Being A Reveluv Is Exhausting Like Wdym I Get To Stan A Group With Flawless Dancers, Singers, Visuals

being a reveluv is exhausting like wdym i get to stan a group with flawless dancers, singers, visuals and rappers but have to watch them get absolutely no attention

faded (사라졌다) — jeong jaehyun (정재현)

✧.* 18+

in the dim light of the abandoned warehouse, shadows wove intricate patterns across the walls, a testament to the broken windows and the remnants of long-forgotten machinery. the air was thick with the pungent odor of decay, and the floor was strewn with shattered glass and rusting metal scraps. amid this desolation, a figure moved with an unsettling grace, a quiet elegance that seemed incongruous with the setting.

his eyes, sharp and cold, scanned the room with a calculated detachment. they were like twin shards of ice, reflecting a mind that saw the world not as a tapestry of human experiences but as a cold, dispassionate experiment. he was a sociopath, a term that had been plastered across his dossier and whispered among his colleagues, yet the reality of it was far more profound than any clinical definition.

to observe him was to witness the eerie beauty of a machine in motion, devoid of the warmth that usually defined human interactions. his movements were precise, almost mechanical, each step measured and deliberate. the absence of empathy was not merely a gap but an abyss where emotions should have been. when he spoke, his voice was smooth and calculated, a perfect instrument of persuasion devoid of the imperfections of genuine human emotion. his words were delivered with a chilling calmness that could disarm and manipulate with equal ease.

yet, in his eyes, there was something more than mere coldness—a profound emptiness that spoke of a soul stripped of emotional resonance. it was as if he viewed the world through a glass barrier, witnessing the intricacies of human suffering and joy without ever truly engaging with them. this detachment granted him a chilling clarity, allowing him to observe and exploit the weaknesses of others with unnerving efficiency. he could mimic the gestures of kindness and concern, but they were nothing more than hollow echoes of what he could not feel.

the warehouse was his sanctuary, a place where he could revel in his isolation and indulge in the dark thoughts that occupied his mind. here, away from the prying eyes of society, he was free to dissect the nature of his own being and the roles he played. in the flickering light of a solitary bulb, he contemplated the human condition with a dispassionate curiosity. the contradictions of his existence fascinated him—how he could so easily simulate emotions he could never truly experience, how he could manipulate others with a mere flicker of charm, and how he remained untouched by the very forces that drove others to despair or elation.

as he stood amidst the debris, a sense of profound solitude enveloped him. He was a being of intellect and precision, existing in a world of feelings he could never truly grasp. his mind was a labyrinth of strategy and calculation, each thought meticulously honed to serve his purpose. he was a creature of logic in a realm of chaos, a master of a game whose rules he understood but whose essence remained forever beyond his reach.

and yet, despite this chilling detachment, there was an undeniable truth that lingered in the shadows of his consciousness. beneath the veneer of calculated indifference and the mask of emotional vacancy, he was still human. his actions, though devoid of conventional empathy, were driven by a deeply rooted sense of self-preservation and a pursuit of his own desires. in his solitary reflections, there was a flicker of the same existential questioning that plagued the rest of humanity—a search for meaning, a quest for identity, and a confrontation with his own mortality.

in that abandoned warehouse, amidst the debris of a world he navigated with clinical precision, the true nature of his humanity lay bare. it was not in the warmth of human connection or the depth of emotional engagement but in the quiet recognition of his own existence. he was still bound by the same inescapable truths that defined all humans—the quest for understanding, the struggle for control, and the inevitable confrontation with his own limitations. it became clear that despite his chilling detachment and calculated demeanor, he was still human, after all.

jeong jaehyun stumbled out of the warehouse, the weight of his actions pulling him down like a leaden shroud. the night air was crisp and harsh against his skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating gloom he had just escaped. his hands, stained with fresh blood, trembled uncontrollably as he stared at them in horror. the crimson splatters seemed to mock him, painting a grotesque tableau of the violence that had just transpired. each step he took was uncertain, as if the ground beneath him could give way at any moment. his mind raced, trying to make sense of the chaos, but the cold, rational part of him remained eerily detached.

as he wandered onto the street, his disheveled figure moving erratically, a car approached in the distance. jaehyun's gaze was fixed on the bloodied hands, his thoughts mired in a growing sense of doom. the headlights of the car grew brighter, and he vaguely registered the sound of its engine roaring closer. to him, it seemed as though the man in the sky was reaching down to punish him for his sins, an abstract punishment for a crime he felt he could never fully comprehend.

the car’s headlights blinded him as it neared, and with a sudden, frantic lurch, he realized he was standing in the middle of the road. instinctively, he threw up his hands, but the vehicle did not slow. the screech of tires and a sharp, agonized honk pierced the night as you slammed the brakes, narrowly avoiding hitting him. the car skidded to a stop, its headlights illuminating his battered form.

your eyes widened in shock as you took in the sight before you. you rushed out of the car, your heart pounding with adrenaline. jaehyun, in his state of shock and confusion, flinched as you approached. he was convinced that you were another threat, someone who had come to finish what had been started. but as you drew closer, your gaze softening with unexpected concern, he was taken aback.

“get in the car,” you said abruptly, ignoring his stunned expression and the blood on his hands. your tone was calm, almost serene, a stark contrast to the tension that crackled in the air. he stared at you, bewildered. “who are you?”

you didn’t respond immediately. instead, you gestured toward the open car door, a silent invitation. with no better options and an overwhelming sense of dread, he climbed into the back seat, his movements slow and hesitant. as you slid back into the driver’s seat and shut the door, you glanced at him through the rearview mirror. your eyes met his, and to his utter disbelief, you smiled. “why are you helping me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with disbelief. “it’s good karma,” you replied with a gentle, enigmatic smile.

jaehyun stared at you in stunned silence, the absurdity of the situation washing over him. “it’s hard to believe you’d help a stranger everyone wants dead.” you chuckled softly, the sound almost musical. “well, you’d have to keep that a secret. my brother’s a cop.” for the past month, his face had been plastered on the screen of every news channel imaginable, as he had been one of the prime suspects regarding the suicide of a high school teacher. one that turned out to be a homicide in disguise.

his eyes widened in shock, and a heavy silence filled the car. you glanced back at his bloodied hands in the mirror. “you must’ve done it, judging by what just happened,” you said. he shook his head vehemently. “i didn’t do it,” he said, his voice raw and earnest. “i didn’t kill anyone. i gave the guy a good beating, that’s all.”

you smiled softly as you turned into your driveway, the car coming to a smooth halt. “he must’ve deserved it,” you said, your tone light and almost amused. jaehyun sat in stunned silence, his thoughts swirling in a tempest of confusion and fear. as the car settled, he looked at you, a mixture of gratitude and wariness in his eyes. in this fleeting encounter, he had found a peculiar semblance of solace, a stark contrast to the chaos that had so recently defined his life.

you guided jaehyun into your home, your hand gentle yet firm on his arm as he stumbled over the threshold. the dim lighting of your hallway cast long shadows, but there was a warmth in the air that contrasted sharply with the cold, sterile atmosphere of the warehouse he had just left behind. his breath came in short, ragged gasps, and he could feel the weight of the night pressing down on him, thick and suffocating.

“don’t worry,” you said softly, catching his wary glance toward the door. “my brother’s working the night shift. we won’t be disturbed.”

his skepticism lingered in his eyes, a dark cloud of doubt that refused to dissipate. but he nodded, too exhausted and disoriented to argue. you led him further inside, the soft creak of the floorboards the only sound that accompanied your footsteps. the house was modest, cozy, with a lived-in feel that suggested safety, a stark contrast to the barren emptiness he had known for so long. there were framed photos on the walls—smiling faces, captured memories that spoke of a life filled with love and warmth. it was a world so foreign to him, yet so alluring in its simplicity.

you brought him into the bathroom, the light flickering on with a quiet hum. the stark white of the tiles seemed almost too bright against the dark stains on his hands, a brutal reminder of the violence that had so recently unfolded. you turned on the faucet, the water rushing forth in a steady stream, and guided his hands beneath it. the warmth of the water was soothing against his skin, but it did little to wash away the guilt that gnawed at the edges of his mind.

as you gently scrubbed his hands, he watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. there was a calm determination in your expression, a focus that belied the gravity of the situation. you didn’t flinch at the sight of the blood, nor did you recoil in fear. instead, you worked methodically, your touch gentle and sure, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. mever had he encountered someone so sympathetic, so willing to help without question, so utterly fearless in the face of danger.

when his hands were finally clean, you handed him a towel, your fingers brushing against his as you did so. “come with me,” you said, your voice soft and inviting. he followed you down the hallway, past the living room where a small lamp cast a warm glow over the furniture, and into a bedroom. you opened the closet, pulling out one of your brother’s shirts—a simple white button-down, clean and neatly folded. “here,” you said, handing it to him. “it should fit you.”

jaehyun hesitated, the shirt hanging limply from his grasp. “why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. there was no fear in your gaze, only a quiet understanding that seemed to pierce through the layers of detachment he had built around himself. “because you need help,” you replied simply. “and because i can.”

he studied your face, searching for any sign of deceit or ulterior motive, but found none. there was only sincerity, a rare and precious thing in his world. with a nod, he began to change, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were testing the reality of the situation. you turned your back to give him privacy, busying yourself with gathering the discarded clothes. he slipped into the shirt, the fabric cool against his skin, and as he buttoned it up, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort—a sensation he hadn’t experienced in what felt like a lifetime.

once he was dressed, he looked at you, a question lingering on his lips. “how are you so sure i won’t kill you?” you turned to face him, that same soft smile playing on your lips. “because i know you’re not a killer,” you said, your tone light yet firm, as if the idea was the most obvious truth in the world.

the words struck him like a bolt of lightning, sending a shockwave through his mind. never had he heard those words before—words of belief, of trust. they resonated deep within him, filling a void he hadn’t realized existed. for so long, he had been defined by what others saw in him, by the darkness they projected onto him, but in this moment, you saw something different. and god, did it feel good to hear those words.

you led him to the kitchen next, the warm, inviting space filled with the faint scent of spices and home-cooked meals. he sat down at the table, his body tense and alert, while you moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. the sound of pots and pans clinking together, the hiss of the stove as you lit the burner, the gentle hum of the refrigerator—it all blended into a soothing symphony that lulled his mind into a state of wary calm.

as you cooked, he watched you closely, unable to tear his eyes away. there was a grace to your movements, a quiet confidence that radiated from you. It fascinated him, this effortless display of empathy and care. he wondered how someone could be so willing to help, so fearless for their own safety, when he had seen the worst of humanity.

you placed a simple meal in front of him—a bowl of soup, steaming hot, with a slice of bread on the side. the aroma was comforting, a reminder of something he couldn’t quite place, something from a past life that felt more like a distant dream. he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the smell hit his senses, and his stomach tightened in response.

“thank you,” he said quietly, almost as if the words were foreign to him.

you smiled, watching him as he took his first hesitant bite. there was a vulnerability in his expression, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name. you studied his face, the sharp lines of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, and wondered how someone could seem to lack so much empathy. what had shaped him into this detached, calculating figure? what had stripped away the warmth and left only coldness behind? but despite the questions swirling in your mind, you didn’t pry. you simply let him eat in peace, your presence a quiet reassurance in the background.

when he was finished, you took the dishes away, your movements gentle and unhurried. the night was wearing on, and you could see the exhaustion etched into his features, the weight of the day pressing down on him like a heavy burden. you led him to a small guest room, the bed neatly made with fresh linens. it was a modest space, but it was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environments he was used to. “i’ve made up the bed for you,” you said, smoothing out the blankets one last time. “you should get some rest.”

he stood there, hesitant, as if the idea of sleep was something foreign to him. but as he looked at you, your kindness and calm demeanor slowly chipping away at his defenses, he nodded. “thank you,” he said again, the words feeling more natural this time, though still tinged with disbelief.

you gave him one last smile before stepping out of the room, closing the door softly behind you. the silence that followed was almost deafening, and as jaehyun sat on the edge of the bed, his mind raced. he couldn’t rest, not with the chaos swirling in his thoughts. the events of the night replayed over and over, but now they were interwoven with images of you—your calm smile, your gentle touch, your unwavering belief that he was something more than what the world saw.

he lay down, staring up at the ceiling, but sleep refused to come. the bed was too soft, too comfortable, and his mind was too restless. he turned over, his eyes drifting to the door, half-expecting you to return, to tell him it had all been a mistake, that you had seen him for what he really was—a monster, a sociopath, someone incapable of true human connection. but the door remained closed, and the only sound was the faint hum of the house settling around him. in the stillness of the night, jaehyun’s thoughts were consumed by you—his unlikely savior. he couldn’t understand it, couldn’t comprehend why you had helped him, why you had risked so much for someone like him. the warmth of your smile lingered in his mind, a beacon in the darkness that threatened to engulf him. and as he lay there, staring into the void, he realized that for the first time in a long while, he felt something. it wasn’t quite hope, but it was close—a faint glimmer of something better, something he had long since forgotten.

but sleep still eluded him. his mind raced with thoughts of you, and the fear that it was all too good to be true gnawed at him. he couldn’t shake the feeling that this kindness, this sanctuary, would vanish as quickly as it had appeared. but for now, in this quiet room, he allowed himself to believe, if only for a moment, that he wasn’t completely alone in the world.

jaehyun awoke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the thin curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. for a moment, he remained still, his mind drifting in the hazy space between sleep and wakefulness. the events of the previous night felt like fragments of a distant dream, too surreal to be real. but as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, the solid reality of his surroundings began to settle in. the warmth of the bed beneath him, the quiet hum of the house, the faint scent of something comforting in the air—it all grounded him, pulling him back to the present.

he turned his head slightly and saw you standing in the doorway, your presence calm and reassuring. you were watching him with a soft smile, as if you had been waiting for him to wake up. the sight of you, so real and tangible, dispelled any lingering doubt he had. this wasn’t a dream. you were real. the kindness you had shown him, the safety you had provided—it was all real.

“good morning,” you greeted him softly, your voice a gentle lull in the quiet room. jaehyun sat up slowly, his body still stiff and sore from the night before. “morning,” he replied, his voice rough from sleep. he hesitated, unsure of what to say next. the words felt heavy on his tongue, weighed down by the unfamiliarity of expressing gratitude. but when he looked into your eyes, the sincerity there made it easier. “thank you, again.”

you shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “there’s no need to thank me, kaehyun. i’m just glad you’re okay.” there was a pause, a silence that felt both comforting and heavy with unspoken words. he broke it first, glancing at the clock on the wall. “i should get going. i have a busy day ahead of me.”

you nodded, understanding, though there was a hint of concern in your eyes. “qre you sure you don’t want any breakfast before you go? it’s no trouble at all.” he shook his head, standing up from the bed and straightening his borrowed shirt. “no, i need to get moving. but i appreciate the offer.”

you walked him to the door, the quiet of the morning enveloping you both as you stepped into the hallway. “take care of yourself,” you said, your voice filled with genuine concern. “i’ll see you around?” jaehyun paused at the doorway, turning to look at you one last time. there was something in your eyes, something that tugged at a place deep inside him that he had long thought dead. he didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to make sense of the connection that seemed to have formed between you in such a short span of time. but he nodded, the gesture small but full of unspoken meaning. “yeah,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “i’ll see you around.”

with that, he stepped out into the cool morning air, the door closing softly behind him. the world outside was still waking up, the streets quiet and the sky painted with the soft hues of dawn. as he walked, the events of the previous night replayed in his mind, each step taking him further from your home but not from the thoughts of you. your kindness lingered with him, a warmth that refused to fade even as the cold morning air bit at his skin.

as jaehyun made his way down the street, lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the car approaching from behind until it slowed down beside him. he glanced over, his eyes locking with those of the driver—a man with a stern expression, his gaze sharp and scrutinizing. there was something familiar about him, something that sent a shiver down his spine. the man’s eyes flicked down to the shirt jaehyun was wearing, recognition dawning in his features. it was your brother.

the moment seemed to stretch on forever, the tension between them palpable in the air. jaehyun’s heart pounded in his chest, the sudden realization that your brother knew who he was, and more importantly, what he was suspected of. he could see the gears turning in your brother’s mind, the connection being made between the shirt jaehyun wore and the one hanging in your brother’s closet. it was a small detail, but it spoke volumes.

the car sped off, leaving jaehyun standing in the middle of the sidewalk, a chill running down his spine that had nothing to do with the morning air. he cursed under his breath, realizing the trouble that was now headed your way. but what could he do? what could he say that would make a difference? he shook his head, forcing himself to keep walking, but the image of your brother’s piercing gaze stayed with him, a stark reminder that his problems were far from over.

meanwhile, your brother drove in silence, his mind racing with thoughts of you and the man he had just seen wearing his shirt. his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his mind filled with the gruesome images from the case that had been haunting him for weeks—the case he was sure jaehyun was involved in. he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that you were in danger, and it was all because of that man.

he pulled into the driveway with a screech, his anger bubbling just below the surface as he stepped out of the car. he slammed the door shut and marched into the house, his footsteps heavy and filled with purpose. the moment he saw you in the kitchen, his eyes narrowed, his voice laced with barely contained fury.

“were you with him?” he demanded, his tone sharp and accusing. you turned to face him, surprised by the sudden intensity in his voice. but you didn’t flinch, didn’t back down. you met his gaze head-on, your own expression calm but firm. “yes,” you admitted, your voice steady. “i was with jaehyun.”

your brother’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “are you out of your mind?” he snapped, the anger finally spilling over. “do you have any idea who that man is? what he’s accused of?” you held your ground, refusing to let his anger sway you. “he didn’t do it,” you said softly, but there was a conviction in your voice that made your brother pause.

“how do you know?” he demanded, his voice rising with frustration. “how can you be so sure he’s not playing you? that he’s not dangerous?” for the first time, you hesitated, the answer on the tip of your tongue but too complicated to put into words. you couldn’t explain the way you just knew, the way you had looked into jaehyun’s eyes and seen something that no one else seemed to see—something that told you he wasn’t capable of the horrors he was being accused of. but how could you explain that to your brother? how could you make him understand?

your silence spoke volumes, and your brother shook his head in disbelief, his expression a mix of anger and fear. “you’re too trusting,” he said finally, his voice tinged with desperation. “you can’t just believe in everyone. this isn’t some fairy tale where the bad guy turns out to be good in the end. this is real life, and people like him, they don’t change.”

“he’s not who you think he is,” you tried to argue, but your brother cut you off, his frustration boiling over. “stay away from him,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “i don’t want you anywhere near him. if you see him again, you call me. do you understand?”

you looked at him, your heart aching at the fear and anger in his eyes. you knew he was only trying to protect you, to keep you safe, but you also knew that he was wrong about jaehyun. but what could you do? you couldn’t fight him on this, not without risking a rift between you. so you nodded, even though every fiber of your being wanted to protest, to argue that jaehyun wasn’t the monster your brother believed him to be. “fine,” you said quietly, your voice tinged with resignation. “i’ll stay away.”

the morning air was thick with the promise of rain as you made your way to the local store. the clouds overhead hung heavy and dark, a stark contrast to the bright resolve in your heart. you had no intention of staying away from jaehyun, no matter what your brother had said. there was something in the way jaehyun looked at you, something in the depth of his eyes that told you he wasn’t what the world believed him to be. your brother’s words echoed in your mind, but they couldn’t drown out the quiet, persistent certainty you felt. so, you went about your day as planned, pretending that nothing had changed, that your brother’s warning wasn’t still ringing in your ears.

the store was quiet when you arrived, the usual hum of life dulled by the oppressive weight of the storm that threatened to break. you wandered the aisles, picking out the things you needed—a few groceries, some toiletries, nothing too out of the ordinary.bBut as you reached for a carton of milk, you couldn’t help but wonder if you should pick up something extra, something you might offer jaehyun should you cross paths with him again. the thought brought a small smile to your lips, a secret shared only with yourself.

your basket filled, you made your way to the register, exchanging pleasantries with the cashier as you paid for your items. the moment you stepped outside, however, you were met with the harsh reality of the storm that had been building all morning. the rain came down in sheets, pounding against the pavement with a ferocity that took you by surprise. you paused just outside the door, bags in hand, as the rain soaked through your clothes almost instantly. you raised an arm to shield your head, but it did little to protect you from the downpour.

you cursed under your breath, glancing around for any cover you could find, but the rain was relentless. it was as if the heavens had opened up, and you were caught in the middle of it with no escape. you shivered, the cold seeping through your clothes, and just as you were about to resign yourself to the wet, uncomfortable walk home, you felt something warm and dry settle over your head.

startled, you looked up, your heart skipping a beat as you found jaehyun crouched beside you, his jacket held above both your heads as a makeshift umbrella. his presence was like a jolt of electricity, unexpected yet oddly comforting. his face was calm, expressionless even, but his actions spoke louder than words ever could. “where did you come from?” you asked, your voice laced with surprise as you stared at him.

he didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed ahead as he guided you under the shelter of his jacket. “it doesn’t matter,” he finally said, his tone flat, almost detached. “you’re going to catch a cold if you stay out here.” there was something so inherently touching in his words, a care that seemed almost out of place given the stoic expression on his face. his voice was devoid of emotion, but the simple act of shielding you from the rain said more than any words ever could.

a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of your lips despite the rain. “you must feel like a gentleman,” you teased lightly, trying to coax a reaction out of him.

he looked at you then, his dark eyes reflecting the storm around you both. “i think it’s better not to feel,” he replied, his voice as calm and steady as the rain pouring down around you. you couldn’t help but scoff, shaking your head slightly. “yeah, right,” you murmured, though there was no real bite to your words. you knew better than that. he might try to hide it, but you could see the turmoil beneath the surface, the conflict he kept buried deep within.

without another word, jaehyun guided you toward the bus stop, his jacket still held protectively over your head. the rain continued to fall in torrents, but the small shelter of the bus stop provided some relief. you both stepped under it, and jaehyun finally lowered his arm, letting the jacket fall to his side.

“thank you,” you said, your voice soft as you looked up at him. the rain had plastered your hair to your face, and you could feel the cold biting at your skin, but you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest at his gesture. “that was really kind of you.” he shrugged, his expression still guarded. “it’s the least i can do.”

there was a pause, the sound of the rain filling the silence between you. you studied him, noting the way his hair clung to his forehead, the way his clothes were as drenched as yours. and yet, there was a quiet strength in him, a resolve that made you believe he would do this all over again if it meant keeping you safe. “are you headed home?” you asked, breaking the silence. he nodded, his gaze flicking to the side before returning to you. “yeah, but i hope to see you soon.”

something about the way he said it, so simple yet so heavy with unspoken meaning, made your heart flutter in your chest. before you could respond, jaehyun turned to leave, the jacket still clutched in his hand. but instead of taking it with him, he draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of the fabric immediately comforting against your cold, wet skin. you opened your mouth to call after him, to tell him to take it back, but before you could get the words out, he was already gone, disappearing into the rain like a ghost. you stood there for a moment, the jacket draped over your shoulders and the scent of him lingering in the air around you. the rain continued to fall, but it was as if the world had gone still, the only sound the steady rhythm of your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

you pulled the jacket tighter around yourself, a small smile playing on your lips as you turned back toward the bus stop, the weight of his actions settling over you like a warm blanket. despite everything—your brother’s warnings, the suspicions that surrounded him—you knew you couldn’t stay away from him. there was something in him, something that called to you, something that made you want to believe in him. and as you waited for the rain to let up, you knew deep down that this wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.

jaehyun’s apartment was a place where silence reigned, a heavy, oppressive silence that seemed to seep into the walls, swallowing any hint of life or warmth. the space was eerily empty, devoid of anything that might give it the feeling of a home. the only light came from a single, bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting long, harsh shadows across the room. the walls were bare, painted a dull, lifeless gray that matched the concrete floor beneath his feet. there was no furniture, save for a single chair in the center of the room, where the cries of a man echoed off the walls, growing louder with each passing second.

the man in the chair struggled against his restraints, his hands tied tightly behind his back, his arms bound to the sides of the chair. q towel was wrapped around his face, tucked cruelly into his mouth, muffling his desperate pleas. his eyes were wild with fear, darting around the room, searching for some escape, some way out of this nightmare. but there was none. the only thing he could see was jaehyun, standing in front of him, his expression as cold and emotionless as the room itself.

his eyes were fixed on the man, unblinking, as he crouched down in front of him, bringing himself to eye level. his face was a mask of indifference, betraying no hint of the thoughts that might be running through his mind. he didn’t speak right away, didn’t acknowledge the man’s muffled cries. instead, he simply watched, his gaze steady and unyielding, as if he were looking right through him, into the very core of his being.

the man’s cries grew louder, more frantic, as he realized there was no mercy in those cold eyes staring back at him. he shook his head violently, trying to dislodge the towel from his mouth, trying to make himself heard, to beg for his life. but jaehyun didn’t move, didn’t react. he simply waited, letting the man exhaust himself in his futile struggle, until finally, his movements slowed, his cries turning to quiet, broken sobs.

and then, in a voice that was almost too calm, too measured, jaehyun spoke. “it’s a shame you told your sister to stay away from me.”

your brother’s eyes widened in horror, his muffled cries returning with a renewed intensity as he realized the gravity of those words. he thrashed against his restraints, but there was no escape. jaehyun remained still, his gaze unwavering as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small, sleek handgun. the metal glinted ominously in the dim light, and the sound of the gun being loaded echoed through the empty apartment like a death knell.

his expression didn’t change as he continued, his voice eerily calm, almost detached. “all of this could’ve been avoided.”

there was no anger in his tone, no trace of the emotions that might accompany such a statement. it was as if he were commenting on the weather, or discussing something as mundane as the time of day. your brother in the chair could only watch in terror, his cries reaching a fever pitch as jaehyun calmly raised the gun, leveling it at his forehead. the silence that followed was deafening, the weight of it pressing down on the room like a suffocating blanket. and then, without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

the sound of the gunshot was deafening in the small, enclosed space, reverberating off the walls with a violence that shook the very air around them. your brother’s head snapped back, his body going limp as the life was extinguished from his eyes in an instant. blood splattered against the walls, dark and wet, staining the dull gray with a stark, vivid red. the room was still again, the only sound the faint, echoing ring of the gunshot that slowly faded into silence.

jaehyun stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as he tucked the gun back into his pocket. his face remained expressionless, devoid of any hint of what he might be feeling. there was no remorse in his eyes, no regret, only a cold, unfeeling detachment as he looked down at the lifeless body slumped in the chair. for a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the man he had just killed, as if contemplating something, though what, no one could say. and then, without a word, without a second glance, he turned and walked away, leaving the apartment as empty and silent as it had been before. the door closed behind him with a soft click, and the only evidence that he had ever been there at all was the body left in his wake.

the silence in your home was a stark contrast to the tension that had lingered in the air earlier. your brother was gone, his absence marked only by the note he had left on the fridge. you saw it the moment you walked into the kitchen, a small scrap of paper taped to the metal door, the words scrawled in his familiar handwriting: “had to pick up a few more shifts because of the case. don’t wait up.” you read the note twice before crumpling it in your hand and tossing it into the trash. it wasn’t unusual for him to be gone, especially with the weight of the ongoing investigation. you brushed off the small twinge of unease that had settled in your chest and tried to push your thoughts elsewhere.

you spent the next hour lounging around the house, flipping through tv channels, but nothing could hold your attention for long. the rooms felt empty, hollow almost, and the silence that once brought you comfort now only served to remind you of the isolation. you moved from the couch to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the bedroom, restless and bored. eventually, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror, contemplating your reflection. the idea of heading out had been growing steadily in the back of your mind, a distraction from the loneliness that clung to you like a second skin.

you decided to go to the bar. it wasn’t a place you frequented often, but tonight, the thought of being surrounded by people, the hum of conversation, and the dim lights felt like exactly what you needed. you took your time getting ready, not rushing the process. the dress you chose was one that always made you feel confident, a deep, rich color that clung to your figure in all the right ways. it wasn’t overly revealing, but it had a certain elegance to it, a subtle allure that drew the eye. you spent a few extra moments on your makeup, accentuating your features, adding a touch of color to your lips, and just enough liner to make your eyes pop.

as you stood back to admire your reflection, you couldn’t help but smile at how you looked. stunning, even if it was just for yourself. before you left, you grabbed jaehyun’s jacket, the one he had draped over you in the rain. you wrapped it around yourself, the fabric still carrying the faintest scent of him, a mix of something clean and crisp, yet undeniably masculine. it was comforting, in a way that you couldn’t quite place, as if wearing it provided an extra layer of protection.

the bar was dimly lit, the kind of place where people went to forget the outside world for a while. the warm, amber light filtered through the haze of cigarette smoke, casting soft, flickering shadows across the room. the low hum of chatter and the clink of glasses filled the air, blending together into a background noise that was almost soothing. you found a seat at the bar, ordering yourself a drink and settling into the solitude of your thoughts.

the first sip of your drink warmed you from the inside out, easing the tension in your shoulders as you let yourself relax. the bartender was friendly enough, offering you a smile as he set your drink down in front of you, but he didn’t pry, didn’t ask questions. he could probably tell you were here to be alone, to enjoy your own company, and for that, you were grateful.

you sipped your drink slowly, savoring the burn of alcohol as it slid down your throat, your eyes drifting over the scene around you. people moved through the space in pairs or groups, laughter and conversation flowing freely between them, but none of it reached you. you were content in your bubble of solitude, letting the world fade into the background. but then, out of nowhere, you felt it—a presence behind you, the sensation of someone standing too close, invading your space. you stiffened slightly, your hand tightening around your glass as the man leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“hey, beautiful,” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, dripping with the kind of false charm that set your teeth on edge. “what’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone? wouldn’t you rather come home with me?”

you resisted the urge to recoil, instead forcing yourself to stay calm as you replied, “i’m not interested.”

but he didn’t take the hint. his hand grazed your lower back, fingers trailing over the curve of your hip before dropping lower, brushing against your ass with a familiarity that made your skin crawl. “come on,” he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance, “don’t be like that.”

you were about to turn around and shove him away, your irritation boiling over into anger, when suddenly, his touch was ripped away. there was a blur of motion, and before you could fully register what was happening, the man was on the ground, sprawled out at your feet.

jaehyun was on top of him, his expression a mask of cold fury as his fist slammed into the man’s face, again and again, the sickening crunch of bone meeting bone echoing through the bar. the man’s cries of pain were muffled by the impact, blood splattering across the floor as jaehyun’s blows grew more violent, more relentless.

you were frozen in shock, your mind struggling to process the scene unfolding in front of you. jaehyun’s expression was one of terrifying calm, his movements precise and controlled, but there was something in his eyes, something dark and dangerous that sent a chill down your spine.

“jaehyun, stop,” you finally found your voice, reaching out to grab his arm, trying to pull him off the man. but it was like trying to move a mountain—he was immovable, his focus entirely on the task at hand, the brutal act of violence he was committing with such cold detachment. “jaehyun, please!” you pleaded, your voice trembling as you tugged harder at his arm, desperation creeping into your tone.

it wasn’t until you locked eyes with him, your gaze pleading and terrified, that something in him shifted. the hardness in his expression softened ever so slightly, and he paused, his fist hovering in the air, mid-strike. his chest heaved with exertion, and for a moment, the only sound was the ragged breathing of the man beneath him, his face a bloodied mess. slowly, he lowered his fist, his eyes never leaving yours. the bar had fallen silent, all eyes on the two of you, the tension thick and suffocating. the bartender was already on the phone, calling the police, and you knew you had to get jaehyun out of there before they arrived.

you grabbed his hand, your grip firm as you pulled him to his feet. he didn’t resist, allowing you to lead him out of the bar, the two of you pushing through the crowd of stunned onlookers. the moment you stepped outside, the cool night air hit you, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside the bar. you didn’t stop until you were a few blocks away, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing with the events that had just unfolded. you finally let go of his hand, turning to face him, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“what were you thinking?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. he didn’t answer right away. his expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something that told you he wasn’t as unaffected by what had just happened as he appeared to be. he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle given the violence you had just witnessed.

“i couldn’t let him hurt you,” he said quietly, his voice void of emotion, but there was something beneath the surface, something raw and vulnerable that he was trying desperately to keep hidden. you wanted to be angry with him, to demand an explanation, but the words caught in your throat. instead, you found yourself nodding, the adrenaline slowly draining from your system, leaving you feeling weak and shaky.

the night air was cool against your skin as you walked alongside him, leading him back to your house. the streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, and the distant sounds of the city seemed to fade away as the two of you walked in silence. your heart was still racing from the events at the bar, but the tension had begun to ebb away, replaced by a heavy, lingering exhaustion. he walked quietly beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. his face was calm, his expression unreadable, but you could sense the turmoil beneath the surface. the adrenaline of the fight had drained away, leaving behind a man who was clearly grappling with something deeper, something darker.

as the two of you neared your house, you felt a knot of anxiety tighten in your chest. you had been turning over your thoughts since you left the bar, trying to find the right words to say. it wasn’t just about what had happened tonight—it was about everything. about the man standing next to you, and the path he seemed to be walking down.

you slowed your pace, eventually coming to a stop at the corner of the street, just a few houses away from your own. jaehyun stopped too, his gaze shifting to you, his eyes dark and questioning. “i need to tell you something,” you said, your voice soft, almost hesitant. the words were difficult to say, but you knew you had to.

he tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in concern. “what is it?” he asked, his voice low, steady. you took a deep breath, gathering your courage. “you have to stop what you’re doing, jaehyun. you have to change.”

for a moment, there was nothing but silence between you. the street was empty, the night quiet, and you could hear the distant hum of cars in the background. jaehyun’s expression remained neutral, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes, a shadow of doubt or fear that he was trying to hide. he turned his gaze away, looking off into the distance. “i don’t think I can,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. there was a heaviness to his words, a resignation that weighed down on your heart.

you reached out, gently touching his arm, drawing his attention back to you. “please, jaehyun. try, for me.”

those last words seemed to hit him harder than anything else you had said. his eyes met yours again, and for the first time since you had met him, you saw something soften in his expression. his cold, guarded exterior cracked just enough for you to see the man beneath, the one who had buried himself under layers of violence and detachment.

slowly, almost imperceptibly, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. it was faint, barely there, but it was real. “i’ll try,” he said, his voice gentler than before. “for you.”

the relief that washed over you was immediate, a wave of warmth that chased away the lingering anxiety in your chest. you smiled back at him, squeezing his arm lightly before letting go. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion. with that, the two of you continued your walk, the distance between your house and the corner where you had stopped feeling much shorter now. when you reached your front door, you unlocked it and stepped inside, the familiar comfort of home greeting you as you crossed the threshold. jaehyun followed, closing the door behind him.

the quiet of your home was a stark contrast to the chaos of the bar. it felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven from the outside world, and as you kicked off your shoes and hung up your jacket, you could feel the tension in your body begin to ease. you glanced over at jaehyun, who stood near the door, his eyes scanning the room as if taking in every detail. there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, a slight relaxation in his posture, though his eyes remained guarded. he watched you as you moved around the house, his gaze following your every step.

“do you wanna watch something?” you asked, trying to break the silence. you didn’t want him to leave just yet, not when there was still so much unspoken between you. he nodded, his expression softening. “sure.”

you walked over to the living room and settled on the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping through the channels until you found something that caught your interest. jaehyun joined you, sitting down beside you, though he kept a respectable distance. the television flickered to life, casting a warm glow across the room. the sound of the show filled the air, but your attention was only half on the screen. you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, noticing the way his eyes occasionally flicked toward you, as if he was trying to understand you, to decipher the thoughts that were running through your mind.

after a while, you got up and went to the kitchen, the idea of cooking something for the both of you suddenly appealing. the act of cooking had always been therapeutic for you, a way to clear your mind and focus on something simple, something tangible. you began gathering ingredients, moving around the kitchen with practiced ease, and you felt Jaehyun’s presence behind you, watching you.

“you don’t have to do that,” he said, his voice soft, almost hesitant. you turned to him, offering a small smile. “i want to. it’s nice to have someone to cook for.”

he didn’t say anything in response, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. there was something almost vulnerable in his gaze, a quiet appreciation that he didn’t know how to express in words. he watched as you moved around the kitchen, his eyes never leaving you, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment. the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, the tension that had once hung between you slowly dissipating. he offered to help, and though he was clumsy in the kitchen, you appreciated the effort. it was a small thing, but it meant more than he could possibly know.

when the food was ready, you brought the plates to the living room, the two of you settling back on the couch to eat. the television continued to play in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. the conversation between you was quiet, subdued, but there was a warmth to it that hadn’t been there before. as you finished your meal, you leaned back against the couch, feeling content and at peace. he set his plate aside and turned to you, his gaze lingering on your face. there was something in his eyes, something soft and unguarded, that made your heart skip a beat.

“you’re— different,” he said quietly, his voice almost reverent. you raised an eyebrow, smiling softly. “different how?”

he didn’t answer right away, his eyes searching your face as if trying to find the right words. “gentle,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “sweet.”

the words were simple, but they carried a weight that made your breath catch. you could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you as if you were something precious, something he didn’t quite know how to handle but was afraid of losing. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was filled with unspoken words, with the quiet understanding that something had shifted between you. something that neither of you were quite ready to acknowledge, but that you both felt all the same.

you reached out, your hand finding his, and you squeezed it gently. “you don’t have to be different with me, jaehyun,” you said softly. “just be you.” a small smile tugged at his lips, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of the man he could be—the man he wanted to be, for you.

the night wore on, and as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself slowly succumbing to the warmth of the couch and the soft, comforting murmur of the television. the day’s events had taken their toll, and the quiet, steady presence of jaehyun beside you brought a sense of security you hadn’t realized you were craving. your eyelids grew heavy, each blink becoming slower than the last, until eventually, your head began to tilt to the side. he noticed the subtle shift in your posture, the way your body gradually leaned toward him as sleep claimed you. he stiffened slightly, unsure of what to do. it was new territory for him—uncharted and strange.

he wasn’t used to this kind of closeness, to the softness of another person so near. but as he turned his gaze to you, watching the way your features relaxed into sleep, something inside him shifted. the hardness, the constant alertness that had been ingrained in him for so long, seemed to melt away, leaving behind a quiet, unfamiliar stillness.

you looked so peaceful, so vulnerable. your breathing was slow and steady, your chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. your lips were slightly parted, and a few strands of hair had fallen across your face. he stared at you, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of your features—the curve of your cheek, the soft sweep of your lashes, the way your lips curled up just slightly at the corners, as if you were dreaming of something pleasant. for a long moment, he simply watched you, his mind strangely quiet. there was no rush of thoughts, no internal dialogue. just silence. and in that silence, he realized something—he wasn’t just watching you. he was admiring you.

hesitantly, as if testing the waters, he let his hand fall, his fingers hovering just above your skin. he hesitated for a heartbeat, then let his hand drop to your face, his palm brushing against your cheek. the warmth of your skin surprised him, sending a jolt of something foreign through him—something he couldn’t quite name but didn’t want to ignore. his thumb moved of its own accord, tracing the soft curve of your cheekbone. your skin was smooth under his touch, warm and inviting. he didn’t feel the usual surge of aggression that often accompanied physical contact, nor did he feel the emptiness that had become his constant companion. what he felt was something different—something that made his chest tighten and his breath catch in his throat.

his thumb continued its slow, reverent path, moving down to trace the outline of your jaw. the motion was gentle, almost tender, as if he was afraid of waking you or breaking the fragile peace that had settled over the two of you. his gaze lingered on your face, on the soft curve of your lips, the way your lashes fanned out against your skin. he had never really looked at you like this before, never taken the time to truly see you. and now that he was, he couldn’t look away. you were beautiful.

the thought slipped into his mind unbidden, startling him with its intensity. he hadn’t thought much about beauty before—hadn’t allowed himself to. But now, with you asleep beside him, your face relaxed and free of worry, he couldn’t help but think it. you were beautiful in a way that was more than just physical. it was in the way you had looked at him earlier, the way you had asked him to try, for you. It was in the softness of your voice, the gentleness of your touch, the quiet strength that seemed to radiate from you.

he found himself marveling at it, at the way you seemed to make everything else fade away, leaving only this moment, this connection between the two of you. the foreign feeling in his chest grew stronger, spreading through him like a slow-burning fire. it was warm, almost comforting, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel alone. he didn’t feel empty. he felt something.

jaehyun wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, his hand resting against your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. time seemed to stretch, each second blending into the next, until it felt like the whole world had narrowed down to just the two of you, here on this couch, in this quiet, darkened room. eventually, he felt his own eyelids grow heavy, the day’s events catching up to him as well. but he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the connection between you. so he stayed where he was, his hand still resting against your cheek, his body leaning ever so slightly toward yours.

his eyes drifted closed, and he let himself relax, the tension in his shoulders easing as he finally allowed himself to give in to the pull of sleep. the last thing he felt before he drifted off was the warmth of your skin against his palm, and the last thing he saw in his mind’s eye was the peaceful look on your face. and then he was asleep, the two of you side by side on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of quiet, shared warmth.

the morning light filtered in through the half-drawn curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. you stirred slowly, the warmth beneath you unfamiliar yet comforting. qs your eyes fluttered open, you realized that your head was resting in jaehyun's lap. he was still asleep, his breathing steady and deep, his hand resting lightly against your arm as if even in sleep, he was unconsciously holding onto you.

you blinked a few times, adjusting to the morning light, and looked around. the apartment was still and quiet, almost eerily so. there was no sign of your brother, and you didn’t know whether to feel concerned or relieved by his absence. part of you expected to hear the familiar sounds of him moving around the house, making coffee or getting ready for the day, but there was nothing. just silence.

your thoughts drifted to jaehyun, and as you shifted slightly in his lap, he began to stir. his eyelids fluttered, and then his eyes opened slowly, blinking against the light. for a moment, he seemed disoriented, as if he had forgotten where he was. but then his gaze settled on you, and a softness crept into his eyes that you had never seen before.

“good morning,” you whispered, your voice still heavy with sleep. “morning,” he murmured back, his voice low and husky. there was a brief silence as you both took in the situation, the strange intimacy of waking up like this.

“i’m sorry,” you began, a little flustered, as you started to sit up. “i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable…” before you could finish, he shook his head, quick and sure. “no, it was great,” he said, his tone almost too earnest. there was a sincerity in his words that made your heart skip a beat.

a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you pushed yourself up and off his lap. the cool air of the room made you shiver slightly, but you shook it off as you stretched. “how about i make us some breakfast?” you suggested, eager to fill the quiet with something other than the racing thoughts in your mind. he nodded, watching you closely as you moved about the kitchen. the normalcy of it all felt surreal—cooking breakfast, making coffee, jaehyun quietly observing you from his place on the couch as if it were the most natural thing in the world. but it wasn’t. nothing about this was normal, and yet, you found yourself wanting to make the most of it. to linger in this moment just a little longer.

you focused on the task at hand, cracking eggs into a bowl, whisking them with a practiced ease. as you poured the mixture into the pan, the sizzle of the eggs against the hot surface filled the silence, and you let out a small, contented sigh. “you shouldn’t work so much,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. his voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it that made you pause.

you glanced over your shoulder at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “i like working,” you replied, turning back to the stove. “besides, it keeps my mind busy.” he didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you, studying you, as if trying to understand something that eluded him. the weight of his gaze was almost palpable, and for a moment, you were hyper-aware of every movement you made.

as you continued to work, you didn’t notice jaehyun slowly rising from the couch. he moved quietly, almost predatorily, his eyes never leaving you. there was a tension in his movements, something raw and primal that made him seem like a hunter stalking his prey. but it wasn’t that simple. he wasn’t looking at you like you were prey—he was looking at you like you were something precious, something delicate that needed to be protected. the comparison didn’t even feel right in his mind. no, it was more like he was drawn to you, like you were a rare, blooming flower amidst a field of withering ones. he felt this overwhelming urge to hold onto you, to shield you from the world before you could fade away.

you felt his presence before you saw him, a subtle shift in the air that made you pause. when you turned, your breath caught in your throat as you found him standing so close, his expression intense, yet vulnerable in a way that left you momentarily speechless. his eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by his own actions, but before he could apologize or step back, you smiled up at him, a soft, understanding smile that seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders.

“i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand half-raised as if unsure whether to reach out to you or not. you shook your head gently, closing the distance between you. “it’s okay,” you whispered back, your voice soothing. your hand came up to rest lightly on his arm, your touch grounding him in a way that nothing else ever had.

the two of you stood there, the air thick with something unspoken, something electric that made your pulse quicken. you stared into each other’s eyes, the rest of the world fading into the background. You could see the conflict in his gaze, the way he was struggling with his emotions, with this unfamiliar territory. and then, without thinking, you leaned in.

it was a small movement, almost imperceptible, but jaehyun noticed. his breath hitched, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, he hesitated. but then, something inside him snapped, and he closed the distance between you, his lips finding yours in a gentle, hesitant kiss. the kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, as if he was afraid of hurting you, of breaking you. but as you responded, your lips moving against his with a quiet urgency, he began to relax. his hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he deepened the kiss.

you felt a rush of warmth flood your chest, your heart pounding in your ears as you kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. the world fell away, leaving just the two of you, connected in a way that felt both thrilling and terrifying. jaehyun’s other hand found your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as he lifted you with ease, placing you on the kitchen counter. the cool surface against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, but you hardly noticed, too caught up in the feel of his lips against yours, in the way his body fit perfectly against yours.

your legs wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. you could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding himself back, afraid of losing control. but you didn’t want him to hold back. you wanted all of him—his strength, his passion, his intensity. when he finally broke the kiss, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. his hands were still on you, one resting on your waist, the other gently brushing the stray hairs from your face.

he looked at you then, really looked at you, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. it was vulnerability, raw and unguarded, as if he was letting you see a part of him that no one else had ever seen. and then, without another word, he kissed you again.

this time, the kiss was more intense, more urgent, as if he was pouring all of his emotions into it. his hands roamed your body, exploring, memorizing every curve, every dip of your skin. you could feel his heart pounding against yours, could feel the way his breath hitched every time you moved. you lost yourself in the kiss, in the feel of him, in the way he made you feel. there was nothing else—no worries, no fears, just the two of you, here in this moment, wrapped up in each other. and for the first time in a long while, you felt safe.

you pulled back slightly, gasping for air, your eyes searching his. “i want you,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. jaehyun’s eyes darkened, his pupils dilating with need. he didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you spoke volumes. you reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the chiseled muscles that lay beneath. your hands roamed over his bare chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

he stepped closer, his hands sliding under your shirt, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. you moaned softly, arching into him as he kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just hard enough to leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. you felt his hands unbutton your pants, his fingers deftly unhooking your bra, and a thrill shot through you. this was happening. you were really doing this with him, and it felt right.

his mouth found yours again, his tongue dancing with yours as he pushed your pants down your legs. you stepped out of them, your bare feet brushing against the cold kitchen tiles. he lifted you back onto the counter, his hands supporting your weight as he stepped between your legs. the heat of his body was intoxicating, making you want to melt into him, to never let go.

and then, with one simple movement, he entered you, filling you completely. you gasped, your nails digging into his back as the sensation overwhelmed you. it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before—so raw, so intense, so real. jaehyun’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mix of pleasure and something else—something deeper, something that made your heart ache.

you moved together, finding a rhythm that felt like it had been written just for the two of you. your bodies were one, moving in perfect harmony, as if they had been made to fit together. there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths, the slap of skin against skin, and the quiet moans that slipped from your lips. jaehyun’s movements grew more urgent, his grip on your hips tightening as he pushed deeper, harder.

you could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building, your body tightening around him. “yes,” you moaned, your voice needy. “just like that, jaehyun. don’t stop.” he didn’t. he didn’t stop, didn’t hold back, giving you everything you’d ever wanted from him, everything you hadn’t even known you needed. and when you finally came, it was with his name on your lips, his eyes staring into yours, as if he could see straight into your soul. his own release followed shortly after, his body tensing, his eyes squeezing shut as he buried his face in your neck. you held onto him, feeling his warmth, his breath against your skin. for a moment, you just stayed like that, your bodies still connected, your hearts beating in sync.

once the tremors had subsided, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours. there was something in his gaze that was almost apologetic, but you knew it wasn’t for what just happened. it was for everything else—for all the times he’d held back, for all the things he hadn’t said. but in this moment, you didn’t need words. the connection you shared was more than enough.

you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, feeling the tension in his body ease. “it’s okay,” you murmured, stroking his hair. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.” and in that moment, despite his fears, despite the darkness that lurked beneath the surface, jaehyun allowed himself to believe you. because in your arms, he felt like he could finally let go.

the two of you wandered aimlessly through the quiet streets, the afterglow of your shared moment still clinging to the air between you. it was as if time had slowed down, allowing you to savor the warmth that lingered in your chest, the memory of his touch, his kiss, still fresh on your lips. he walked beside you, his steps measured, his gaze forward, yet you could sense the internal battle raging within him. his mind, always calculating, always detached, now struggled to reconcile this newfound vulnerability. he had spent so long keeping everyone at arm’s length, viewing the world through a lens of detachment and apathy. but with you, something was different. you made him feel, and that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

as you walked together, the scenery began to shift. the neighborhood around you changed, becoming less pristine, more worn. the buildings were old, some with peeling paint, others with broken windows patched haphazardly with plastic. the streets were littered with debris, and the once-vibrant graffiti that adorned the walls had faded into dull smudges of color. it was a stark contrast to the warmth you had just shared, and it made you pause.

“do you really live around here?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with concern as you took in your surroundings. he nodded, his jaw clenched as he continued to walk. there was a tension in his posture, a stiffness that hadn’t been there before. he was used to this environment, to the bleakness and the harshness of it, but he wasn’t used to sharing it with someone like you. he wasn’t used to someone seeing this part of his life, this part of him.

you watched him, noting the way his shoulders seemed to draw inwards, as if he were trying to shield himself from your gaze. without thinking, you reached out and took his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together in a simple, yet deliberate act of comfort. the gesture made him falter, his steps slowing as he looked down at your joined hands, surprise flashing in his eyes.

“you should come over to my place more often,” you said softly, offering him a smile that was both gentle and reassuring. “you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

he stared at you, as if trying to comprehend why you would offer something like that, why you would want him around more, especially after seeing where he lived. but instead of questioning it, he found himself nodding, the words of agreement slipping past his lips before he could overthink them. “i’d like that.”

you both walked in silence for a while longer, your hands still entwined, the weight of the world seemingly lighter with him beside you. eventually, you found yourselves at one of the old buildings, a towering structure with crumbling bricks and rusted fire escapes. jaehyun led you up the narrow stairwell, your footsteps echoing in the confined space, until you reached the rooftop.

the view from up here wasn’t the kind you’d typically associate with beauty. the streets below were cracked and dirty, the buildings surrounding you worn and decaying, the air heavy with the scent of pollution. but with jaehyun beside you, it didn’t matter. the two of you stood at the edge, looking out at the cityscape, the sun slowly sinking behind the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint, sparking it up with the ease of someone who had done it countless times before. he took a slow drag, the smoke curling around his lips before he offered it to you, a glint of something playful in his eyes. you raised an eyebrow, hesitant. you had never been one to indulge in substances like this, and the thought of him relying on them made you uneasy. but you could see the challenge in his gaze, the unspoken dare. he was testing you, trying to see how far you would go for him, if you were willing to step into his world, even if just for a moment.

with a small sigh, you took the joint from his hand, surprising him. “you promised me you’d try to be better,” you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. “i can try for you too.”

he blinked, clearly taken aback by your words, by the way you seemed so willing to step out of your comfort zone just for him. there was something about the way you said it, something so sincere, that it shook him to his core. he watched, almost in disbelief, as you brought the joint to your lips and inhaled. the smoke burned your lungs, and you coughed, but you tried again, this time more carefully, letting the warmth spread through your chest.

his heart skipped a beat as he saw you struggle to relax, trying to embrace something foreign to you, all for his sake. he had never expected this. never expected anyone to believe in him the way you did.

“i’m serious,” he said after a moment, his voice low, almost reverent. “about being better for you.” you exhaled slowly, the smoke leaving your lungs as you looked at him, your eyes soft and full of trust. “i know,” you whispered, and when he asked how you could be so sure, you simply smiled.

“i believe in you,” you replied, and those simple words made his heart flutter in a way he had never experienced before. it was a strange sensation, almost alien to him. he had spent so long feeling nothing, so long numbing himself to the world, and yet here you were, making him feel again.

the two of you passed the joint back and forth, the world around you beginning to blur and soften. the harsh edges of reality dulled, replaced by a warm haze that made everything feel distant, dreamlike. you were faded. the tension that had once been so present between you now melted away, replaced by a deep, shared connection that pulsed between you like a living thing. your limbs felt heavy, your thoughts slow and languid, but you didn’t mind. not when you were leaning against his shoulder, the weight of his arm around you, the warmth of his body grounding you. the world below might have been crumbling, but up here, with him, you felt safe.

jaehyun, too, felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. love, or something close to it, something that made his heart swell and his mind quiet. he had always been a predator in his own world, moving through life with a cold detachment, taking what he wanted without care for the consequences. but with you, it was different. with you, he felt like he had found something worth protecting, something worth holding onto.

he glanced down at you, your head resting against his shoulder, your eyes half-lidded with the haze of the high. you looked peaceful, content, and it made something inside him soften. he wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to feeling so tender, so vulnerable. but he didn’t hate it. not with you.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere, though he wasn’t sure if you heard him. maybe it didn’t matter. maybe you already knew. the two of you sat there in comfortable silence, the city below forgotten, the worries of the world slipping away. and as the sky darkened, the stars slowly appearing above, you both drifted into a quiet, shared peace, content to simply be in each other’s presence.

the days that followed your shared moment on that rooftop were different for jaehyun. the world seemed clearer, sharper, as if a fog had lifted, revealing all that he had been missing. his mind, usually so cold and calculating, now buzzed with an energy he hadn't felt in a long time. it was an unfamiliar sensation, but not an unwelcome one.

he didn’t want to die. not anymore. not when he finally had something—someone—worth living for. the darkness that had clung to him for so long, the apathy that had guided his every move, began to recede. the idea of losing himself to that darkness, of losing you in the process, terrified him more than anything.

for the first time in his life, he found himself actively avoiding the situations that once drew him in like a moth to a flame. he no longer sought out the chaos, no longer indulged in the reckless behaviors that had defined him for so long. the streets that once called to him with their promises of violence and danger now seemed empty, devoid of meaning. he didn’t want to get caught up in any more bad situations. he didn’t want to risk losing you. instead, he spent his days with a newfound purpose, a resolve to be better, to be someone you could trust, someone you could love. he found himself thinking of you constantly, your voice, your smile, the way you made him feel alive in a way he had never known before. every thought of you strengthened his resolve, reminding him of what was at stake. but the shadows of his past were not so easily escaped.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the city, jaehyun found himself alone, standing in an empty alleyway. the air was heavy with the scent of asphalt and exhaust, the quiet hum of the city in the distance. he sparked a cigarette, the familiar burn of nicotine filling his lungs as he leaned against the brick wall, lost in thought.

the sound of footsteps echoed in the alley, and he tensed, his senses sharpening. a woman’s voice cut through the silence, cold and commanding. “i know what you did.”

he turned slowly, his expression calm, controlled, as if her words hadn’t fazed him. the woman stood at the mouth of the alley, her uniform crisp, her badge glinting in the fading light. her gaze was steady, unyielding, as she looked at him with a mixture of disdain and certainty. he took another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke curl around him as he met her gaze. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

she scoffed, her lips curling into a mirthless smile. “oh, i think you do. you killed him.”

his heart skipped a beat, but his face remained impassive, betraying nothing. his mind raced, analyzing, calculating his next move. he could feel the familiar pull of violence, the urge to silence her before she could say anything more. it would be so easy, so quick. but then he thought of you, of the promise he had made, and the darkness inside him hesitated.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated, his voice steady, almost bored.

the officer’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. “it’s a shame. i wonder what your girlfriend would say if she knew you killed her brother.”

her words hit him like a sledgehammer, but he didn’t let it show. the cigarette burned between his fingers, but he didn’t move. the urge to attack her, to end this threat to his new life, surged within him, his muscles tensing, ready to spring. he could see it in his mind’s eye—grabbing her by the throat, the life draining from her eyes as she gasped for air. he could feel the adrenaline, the rush that came with the kill.

but then he saw your face, the way you had looked at him, the trust in your eyes. the thought of you finding out, of seeing the darkness in him, made his heart ache in a way he wasn’t used to. he couldn’t do it. mot because he was afraid of the consequences, but because he had promised you. he had promised to be better. so, he did something he had never done before. he walked away.

he dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his heel as he turned his back on the officer, on the temptation to give in to the darkness. every step he took away from her was a victory, a defiance of the person he used to be. the officer’s voice echoed in the alley, taunting, trying to goad him into a reaction. but he didn’t stop. for the first time in his life, he walked away from a fight, from the violence that had always defined him. and as he walked, he felt a strange sense of relief, a lightness that he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling.

he didn’t look back. he didn’t need to. he had made his choice, and it was a choice for you, for the life he wanted to build with you. the darkness would always be a part of him, lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of weakness. but for now, he was stronger. for now, he had something worth fighting for, something worth living for. and he wasn’t going to let anyone take that away from him. not even himself.

the days without your brother's presence felt like an eternity. every hour that passed was heavier than the last, each second a weight pressing down on your chest. the apartment, once filled with the sounds of his laughter, his footsteps, his voice, now felt eerily silent, as if the walls themselves were mourning his absence. you tried to carry on as if nothing was wrong, telling yourself that he was just busy, that he would walk through the door any moment, but deep down, you knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.

anxiety gnawed at you, a relentless, gnawing ache that twisted your stomach into knots. the pit in your stomach only deepened with each passing day. sleep was no longer a comfort but a battlefield where your worst fears came to life. you couldn't eat, couldn't focus, your mind constantly replaying the last time you saw him, wondering if you missed some sign, some warning that this would happen.

you tried to keep it together, to stay strong, but the fear was overwhelming. it was like a storm inside you, building in intensity until you felt like you might break apart. you needed someone, anyone, to tell you that everything would be okay, even if it was a lie. you needed comfort, a lifeline, something to anchor you before you were swept away by the tidal wave of grief and fear.

without thinking, your fingers found your phone, dialing a number that had become all too familiar. the ringing in your ear was a small lifeline, a thread connecting you to the one person who had come to mean so much to you in such a short time. the moment you heard jaehyun's voice on the other end of the line, calm and steady, you felt the dam inside you break.

“is something wrong?” he asked immediately, his voice tinged with a concern that was still new to him, still unfamiliar.

you tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, choked by the sobs that you had been holding back for days. when you finally managed to get the words out, they were broken, fragmented, spilling out in a rush of desperation and fear. “something's wrong, jaehyun. i haven't seen my brother for days. he hasn't called, hasn't texted. i just know something’s happened, i can feel it.”

on the other end of the line, jaehyun was silent, but the sound of your cries cut through him like a blade. this grief, this sorrow that was not his own, was foreign to him, a bitter poison that seeped into his veins, paralyzing him with its weight. he was used to dealing with pain in others, usually inflicted by his own hand, but this, this was different. it was raw, unfiltered, and it made something inside him recoil, as if the grief itself was a living thing, clawing at his insides.

he wanted to make it stop, to ease your pain, but he didn’t know how. his mind raced, searching for the right words, the right thing to say, but all he could think of was the emptiness, the coldness that had always been his companion. he didn’t know how to comfort, didn’t know how to soothe. all he knew was that he couldn’t stand hearing you like this, couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering.

“he’s probably just busy,” he said, his voice softer than it had ever been. “you know how it is with work, sometimes it just takes over. I’m sure he’s fine. he’ll be back soon, and everything will be okay.”

he didn’t believe the words himself, but he needed you to believe them. he needed you to find some peace, some solace in the chaos that was tearing you apart. as he spoke, he could hear your breathing start to calm, your sobs quieting as his words wrapped around you like a fragile, protective shield.

“thank you, jaehyun,” you whispered, your voice trembling but filled with a small, fragile hope. “thank you for being there for me.” he felt something tighten in his chest, a sensation he didn’t recognize, a mixture of relief and something darker, something more dangerous. grief, foreign and unwelcome, twisted inside him, but it wasn’t the grief he felt for your brother, it was something else entirely. it was grief for you, for the pain you were in, for the vulnerability in your voice that made him want to protect you, to shield you from everything that could hurt you.

but grief was not something he was familiar with, not something he knew how to control. it festered inside him, turning, twisting, until it morphed into something more familiar—anger. his fingers tightened around the phone as he ended the call, his jaw clenching as the unwanted emotions surged through him, overwhelming his usual calm.

the aggression that had always been his default response, the darkness that had always been his shield, rose up inside him, demanding release. he stood abruptly, the chair in his room toppling over as he kicked it, the loud crash echoing in the small space. it wasn’t enough. the rage that had been born of grief and fear was a fire that demanded more destruction, more violence, but he fought it back, swallowing it down as he stood there, panting, his hands clenched into fists. but for all the rage that burned inside him, one thing was clear: he couldn’t let it consume him. not now. not when you needed him. he had to be strong, had to be better, for you. the darkness was still there, lurking just beneath the surface, but for now, he forced it down, buried it deep where it couldn’t touch you, where it couldn’t hurt you. for now, all he wanted was to be the person you needed him to be. and for the first time, that thought, that desire, was stronger than the darkness that had always defined him.

the weight of grief sat heavy on jaehyun’s chest, an unfamiliar sensation that gnawed at the edges of his sanity. he wasn’t used to this kind of emotional turmoil, this festering darkness that seemed to grow with each passing hour. the sorrow he felt wasn’t even his own—it was yours. but it had seeped into him, taken root, and now it was twisting into something he could hardly control.

he had tried to push it down, to bury it beneath layers of cold detachment, but it clawed its way back up, demanding to be felt, to be acknowledged. the grief wasn’t something he knew how to deal with, and so it quickly turned into anger. raw, burning anger that made his blood boil and his hands tremble. anger at your brother for dying, anger at himself for killing him, and anger at the world for making him feel so helpless.

he paced the small confines of his apartment, the walls closing in on him as his thoughts raced, each one darker than the last. his mind replayed your voice, the way it had broken over the phone, and it only fueled the fire inside him. he clenched his fists, trying to focus on anything else, anything that would take the edge off the searing rage that threatened to consume him.

just as he felt like he was about to lose control, a sharp knock on the door echoed through the room, cutting through the silence like a blade. his breath hitched, and he stopped in his tracks, his entire body tensing as the knock came again, louder, more insistent. he knew who it was even before he opened the door, a cold dread settling in his gut.

when he swung the door open, there she was—the police officer from before, her cold, piercing gaze locking onto his the moment the door creaked open. her presence was a reminder of the reality he was trying so hard to ignore, a reminder of the violence that simmered just beneath his skin.

“jaehyun,” she greeted, her voice dripping with the same disdain she had shown before. “i told you, i know what you did.”

his jaw tightened, and he forced himself to remain calm, to keep his emotions in check. he met her gaze with a cold, unreadable expression, trying to play it off like her words didn’t affect him, like he didn’t care about the accusations she was hurling his way. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. but even as he spoke, his mind was racing, trying to figure out how to get rid of her, how to make her go away before the anger boiling inside him erupted.

she scoffed, taking a step into the room, her eyes narrowing as she looked him up and down. “don’t play dumb with me. i know you killed him. and it’s only a matter of time before the truth comes out.” the anger flared again, hot and uncontrollable, and he had to dig his nails into his palms to stop himself from lashing out. he could feel the darkness rising inside him, the need to silence her, to make her stop talking, stop threatening the life he was trying so hard to protect.

“it’s a shame,” she continued, her voice taunting, as if she could sense his inner turmoil and was reveling in it. “i really do wonder what your girlfriend will say when she finds out.”

her words hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. the mention of you, of your connection to this, was like a match to gasoline, igniting the fury inside him to a level he had never experienced before. it wasn’t just anger anymore—it was pure, unadulterated rage, and it was directed at the woman standing in front of him. he wanted to strike out, to hurt her, to make her pay for the pain she was causing, but he hesitated. your voice, soft and pleading, echoed in his mind, a reminder of the promise he had made to you. he had promised to be better, to control himself, for you. but the rage was too much, too powerful, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

before he could think, before he could rationalize, he reached for the gun he had hidden away, the cold metal heavy in his hand. his movements were automatic, driven by instinct, by the need to protect what was his. the officer’s eyes widened in shock as she saw the weapon, but she didn’t have time to react. his finger squeezed the trigger, and the deafening sound of the gunshot echoed through the small apartment, shattering the silence.

she crumpled to the floor, the life leaving her eyes in an instant. the sight of her lifeless body, blood pooling around her, hit him like a tidal wave, washing away the anger and leaving only cold, stark reality in its wake. he stared at her, his breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps, as the full weight of what he had done crashed down on him.

the gun slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor as he stumbled back, his heart pounding in his chest. this wasn’t supposed to happen. he wasn’t supposed to lose control like this, not when he had promised you that he would be better. but it was too late now—what was done was done, and there was no going back.

panic surged through him, a cold, paralyzing fear that gripped him by the throat. he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, all he could see was the blood, the lifeless body that lay at his feet. and all he could think about was you, and how this would destroy you. his trembling hands fumbled for his phone, and he dialed your number with shaky fingers, his heart racing as he waited for you to pick up. when your voice came through the line, soft and filled with concern, it was like a lifeline, pulling him back from the brink of complete despair.

“jaehyun?” you asked, your voice gentle but tinged with worry. “what’s wrong?” he couldn’t find the words at first, his throat tightening with a mix of fear and guilt. when he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, filled with a desperation he couldn’t hide.

“i made a mistake,” he choked out, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “i didn’t mean to.”

your alarmed silence on the other end only heightened his panic, and he could hear you moving, the sound of rustling as you hurried to get ready. “i’m coming over,” you said quickly, your voice filled with determination. “i’ll be there as soon as i can. just hold on, jaehyun. i’m on my way.”

as the line went dead, jaehyun stared down at the body on his floor, the reality of what he had done crashing down on him with relentless force. he knew there was no escaping this, no undoing what had been done. the darkness he had tried so hard to keep at bay had finally won, and now he was left to face the consequences. but all he could think about was you, and the look in your eyes when you found out what he had done. the guilt, the shame, and the fear were almost too much to bear, but he had to hold on. he had to see you one last time, even if it meant facing the truth of what he had become.

the frantic pounding of your heart echoed in your ears as you burst into jaehyun’s apartment, breathless and disheveled. the sight that greeted you was a horrific tableau of chaos and blood—a scene straight out of your worst nightmares. the lifeless body of the police officer lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of crimson spreading beneath her. the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, mingling with the acrid tang of gunpowder.

you froze for a moment, the reality of the scene crashing down on you like a tidal wave. jaehyun stood in the center of the room, his face a mask of anguish and disbelief. his eyes were wild, darting from you to the body on the floor, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “jaehyun,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips. the sheer horror of the scene gripped you, tightening around your chest like a vice. tears sprang to your eyes, but you forced them back, focusing on the man you had come to care for.

he stumbled towards you, his hands reaching out as if to grasp at some semblance of control. “i’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “i didn’t mean to—” before he could finish, you raised a hand, shaking your head with a numb acceptance. “it’s okay,” you said softly, though your voice was strained. “i knew you couldn’t change immediately.”

the words seemed to hit him like a physical blow. his eyes widened, disbelief etched into every line of his face. he looked as though he was teetering on the edge of a precipice, struggling to hold on to whatever shreds of composure he had left.

“please,” he pleaded, desperation flooding his voice. “get angry at me. yell at me. hit me. do something—”

you shook your head, your expression remaining resolute and eerily calm. in the midst of the chaos and the gore, you stood before him, the emotional turmoil contained within you like a storm waiting to break. he looked at you, his gaze searching for some sign of the anger or reproach he so desperately wanted from you. but your face remained a blank canvas, betraying nothing of the inner storm.

finally, he broke, his voice a strained whisper. “i killed your brother.”

the words hung heavy in the air between you, their impact undeniable. for a moment, time seemed to stand still. the intensity of the admission, combined with the grotesque reality of the scene, threatened to overwhelm you.

you took a deep breath, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze. “i know.”

the utter shock on his face was almost palpable. he stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to comprehend the depth of your reaction—or lack thereof. the warmth that had once graced your features had vanished, replaced by a stoic mask of acceptance.

“why?” jaehyun asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “why would you love me and stay with me if you knew everything?” the question was raw, an unspoken plea for understanding that cut to the heart of his own struggle. you took a step closer, your eyes softening as you looked at him.

“because i believe in you,” you said quietly. “i knew you were trying. i knew that change takes time, and that sometimes, sometimes we falter.” the shock in his eyes deepened, his face a canvas of confusion and disbelief. the realization that you had accepted him despite everything, despite the monstrous act he had committed, was almost too much for him to process.

he swallowed hard, the weight of his guilt and remorse pressing down on him with suffocating force. “i’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice breaking with raw emotion. without another word, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. the contact was gentle but firm, a silent promise that despite the horror and the pain, you were still there for him. you could feel him trembling against you, the strong, powerful man reduced to a fragile shell of his former self.

“it’ll all be okay,” you murmured into his ear, your voice filled with quiet conviction. he wanted to live, for the first time in forever. you wanted to live. you wanted to live alongside him, it was all you wanted. you wanted to live.

jaehyun clung to you, his breaths coming in shuddering gasps. the reality of what he had done seemed to sink in fully now, and he was left with nothing but the crushing weight of his actions and the glimmer of hope that you represented. as you held him, the enormity of the situation began to settle, the darkness that had enveloped him slowly giving way to the fragile light of your presence.

the room was filled with an oppressive silence, the heavy weight of the aftermath pressing down on both of you. as you slowly pulled away from jaehyun, his eyes locked onto yours, full of a mix of desperation and confusion. but your attention was drawn to the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs. the tension in the air thickened as an officer burst into view, gun drawn, her expression grim and unyielding.

your heart pounded in your chest, a cold rush of fear gripping you. jaehyun’s gaze followed yours, and for a moment, his eyes widened with understanding, but it was already too late. without thinking, you stepped in front of him, your back facing the officer. the metallic clink of the gun being aimed, the sharp inhale of breath—it all happened in a blur.

time seemed to stretch as you felt a searing pain erupt in your chest, the bullet tearing through your body with a sickening impact. the pain was intense but fleeting, a sharp, fiery stab that left you gasping for breath. the world around you dimmed, a curtain of darkness falling over your vision as you staggered forward. jaehyun’s face contorted in horror and disbelief as he saw you fall, his body moving with a frantic, desperate energy. “no,” he managed to speak, but the sound was swallowed by the cacophony of the moment.

before you could fully collapse to the floor, the officer's gun fired again, the bullet striking jaehyun. he crumpled to the ground beside you, the force of the impact causing him to drop like a ragdoll. the room seemed to close in on itself, the world narrowing to the pain and the two of you lying together on the cold, unforgiving floor.

the silence that followed was filled with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled promises. your breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps, each one more difficult than the last. jaehyun's eyes, once so full of anger and torment, were now filled with an aching sorrow as he stared at you. his tears began to fall, mingling with the blood that stained the floor around you.

with trembling hands, you reached out to him, your fingers brushing against his cheek. his face was a mixture of agony and tenderness as he leaned into your touch, placing his cheek against your hand. the world around you continued to blur and fade, the edges of reality dissolving into darkness.

“i love you,” you managed to whisper, the words escaping your lips with a fragile strength.

jaehyun’s tears fell freely now, his entire being shuddering with the depth of his emotion. “i love you too,” he croaked, his voice cracking with the weight of the confession.

in those final, fleeting moments, the world seemed to dissolve into a haze of shadows and fading light. the pain, the fear, the anguish—all of it began to slip away, replaced by a deep, comforting warmth as you clung to the last remnants of consciousness. jaehyun's presence beside you was a bittersweet comfort, a connection that transcended the immediate horrors of the situation.

as your vision dimmed and the darkness began to consume you, you felt a final, overwhelming sense of peace. the last thing you saw was jaehyun’s tear-streaked face, and the last thing you heard was his whispered confession of love, a promise that would linger even as the world faded away.

✧.*

a/n: goodbye this made me so sad

therapeutic (테라퓨틱) — lee taeyong (이태용)

✧.* 18+

the mind, a vast labyrinth, held within its delicate folds the secrets of every human experience. it was a realm both familiar and foreign, a place where memories danced like shadows on ancient walls, where emotions ebbed and flowed like the tides, and where thoughts wove themselves into the fabric of reality. in that particular domain, the boundaries between the conscious and the unconscious blurred, creating a landscape that was as treacherous as it was beautiful.

for centuries, humanity had sought to understand the mind's inner workings, to decipher the language of neurons and synapses that whispered the truths of existence. yet, despite all the knowledge amassed, the mind remained an enigma, a force capable of both creation and destruction. it could be a sanctuary, a place of solace where dreams flourished, or a prison, where fears and anxieties festered in the dark corners, unbidden and unwelcome.

why do i think the way i do? why do i behave the way i do? why do we find ourselves begging the question, that three-letter question—why? too long has it been a double-edged sword, that question. those who ventured too close to the edge found themselves lost in a labyrinth of their own making, searching for a way out that sometimes seemed impossible to find.

the mind was both a protector and a betrayer. it could shield one from the harshness of reality, crafting illusions and fantasies that soothed the soul. but it could also turn against its owner, unraveling the very threads of their being until they were left exposed, vulnerable to the relentless onslaught of their inner demons. the mind could be a gentle guide, leading one toward healing and self-discovery, or a merciless tormentor, dragging them deeper into the abyss.

the path to mental well-being was not a straight one; it twisted and turned, often doubling back on itself in a confounding maze. it required courage to traverse, or facing the darkest parts of oneself, the fears and doubts that lay hidden beneath the surface. it meant confronting the wounds of the past, allowing them to bleed so they might eventually heal. and it meant accepting that some scars would never fully fade, that they were as much a part of the self as the mind that bore them.

the office you called your own was a home of sorts, a place where the issues of the outside world were left at the door, and the echoes of troubled minds found solace. it was a space curated to ease the burdens carried by those who sought your counsel. the walls were painted in soft, muted tones—an earthy beige that mimicked the comforting embrace of nature. sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, casting a gentle glow that softened the edges of the room and made it feel safe, inviting.

your desk, though functional, was devoid of the sterility one might expect in a clinical setting. instead, it was adorned with books—volumes on psychology, philosophy, and the occasional novel that you found particularly stirring. there was a small plant, a gift from a patient who had once come to you in a state of complete disarray, now thriving under your care much as she had under your guidance. everything in the room was carefully chosen to exude warmth, from the plush armchairs that encouraged relaxation to the subtle scent of lavender that lingered in the air, a calming presence in and of itself.

patients came to you from all walks of life, each bringing with them a story woven from the threads of their experiences, traumas, and desires. there were those who arrived at your doorstep with their defences up, their walls built high. but you had a way with people, a way that transcended the clinical distance that often characterized the relationships between psychiatrist and patient. you didn’t just listen to them—you heard them, truly, deeply. you took in not only their words but also the silences between them, the unspoken fears that hid behind carefully chosen phrases, the way their eyes darted away when a subject became too painful to confront.

your reputation had spread quietly, almost organically. it wasn’t that you were a miracle worker or that you possessed some mystical ability to cure what ailed them. rather, it was your presence, the way you made people feel seen and understood without judgment, that drew them in. you never approached a session with preconceived notions or diagnoses waiting to be confirmed. each patient was a blank canvas, and it was your role to help them paint the picture that best represented their truth, no matter how fragmented or abstract it might be.

pills had always been a contentious issue for you. the pharmaceutical industry, with its glossy advertisements and promises of quick fixes, had never sat well with you. to you, the mind was not a machine that could be fine-tuned with a simple dose of chemicals. it was a complex, ever-evolving entity, influenced by experiences, environment, and relationships. you believed that true healing came not from numbing the symptoms but from addressing the root causes, from understanding and untangling the web of emotions and memories that led to a patient’s distress.

when the need for medication arose—and it did, at times, arise—you approached it with the utmost caution. you prescribed only the smallest doses necessary, believing firmly in the principle of ‘less is more.’ and even then, you coupled any prescription with a robust plan of therapy, ensuring that the medication was merely a tool to assist in the journey, not the journey itself. the low dosages you recommended rarely led to backlash, and your patients appreciated your restraint, knowing that you were not one to dole out pills like candy but rather used them as a last resort.

it was in your interactions with your patients that your true skill shone. each session was a dance, a delicate balance of guiding and listening, of leading without forcing. you never rushed them, never pushed them to confront more than they were ready to face. instead, you let them set the pace, allowing the conversation to flow naturally. and when the time came to delve deeper, you did so with a gentleness that put them at ease.

park minhyuk, a man in his early forties who had walked into your office carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. his face was lined with the stress of a life lived under constant pressure, his eyes betraying a deep-seated weariness. he had been referred to you by a friend who spoke highly of your methods. the first time he sat across from you, he looked hesitant, almost skeptical, as if he didn’t quite believe that talking could help him.

“i’m not sure this is going to work,” he had said, his voice heavy with doubt. “i’ve been to therapists before. they all just tell me to take some pills and come back in a few weeks.”

you leaned back in your chair, studying him with a calm, measured gaze. “i’m not here to force anything on you, mister park,” you replied softly. “i’m here to listen, and we’ll move at a pace that feels right for you. there’s no rush.” he had looked at you then, really looked at you, as if searching for something, some sign that you were different. you met his gaze steadily, offering nothing but the quiet assurance that you were there to help, not to judge.

over time, he began to open up, slowly at first, testing the waters. he spoke of his job, the immense pressure to succeed, the constant fear of failure that gnawed at him day and night. he talked about his family, the wife and children he loved dearly but felt disconnected from, the guilt that weighed on him for not being more present in their lives. as he spoke, you listened—not just to his words but to the pain behind them. you noticed the way his hands clenched and unclenched when he talked about his work, the slight tremor in his voice when he mentioned his children. and when he finally began to talk about the darker thoughts that sometimes crept into his mind, the moments when he wondered if it would be easier just to disappear, you didn’t react with shock or alarm. instead, you nodded, acknowledging his feelings without judgment.

“i understand that it feels overwhelming,” you said gently. “but it’s important to remember that these thoughts, as heavy as they are, don’t define you. they’re part of what you’re going through, but they don’t have to be the end of your story.” he looked at you then, a flicker of hope in his tired eyes. “you really think i can get through this?”

“i do,” you replied, your voice steady and sure. “and i’m here to help you find the way.” his journey wasn’t easy, and there were setbacks along the way. but he returned week after week, drawn not just by your words but by the genuine care you showed. and slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, he began to heal. he started taking more time for himself, reconnecting with his family, finding ways to manage the stress that had once consumed him. the transformation wasn’t immediate, but it was real, and it was lasting.

your practice grew, not because you advertised or sought out patients, but because word of mouth spread. people spoke of you with a kind of reverence, not because you were a miracle worker, but because you offered them something rare in the world of mental health—a safe space where they could be themselves, where they could speak without fear of judgment, where they knew they would be heard.

even those who had been through the harshest of environments—prisoners, veterans, people who had been hardened by life—found solace in your office. they recommended you to others, saying, “you should see her. she’s different. she cares.” and they weren’t wrong. you had found your calling, not in the pills or the textbooks, but in the people who sat across from you, day after day, baring their souls in the hope of finding some relief from the burdens they carried. and you met them with compassion, with understanding, with a quiet strength that reassured them they were not alone.

despite your skill in navigating the landscapes of other’s minds, there was a vast, uncharted territory within your own that you could not seem to traverse. you could guide others out of their darkness, yet when it came to your own, you were perpetually lost, stumbling through a fog that only seemed to thicken with time. it was a darkness that you couldn’t quite pinpoint, a gnawing emptiness that seemed to have no origin, no clear beginning. you often wondered when it had all started, but the truth was as elusive as the peace you sought.

perhaps it began when your father left. you could still remember the day he walked out, his shadow stretching long across the floor as the door closed behind him. the silence that followed was deafening, a silence that you had been trying to fill ever since. you were young then, too young to understand why he was leaving, too young to grasp the implications. but the abandonment had left a scar, a deep, festering wound that never quite healed. you wondered if that was where it all began, this relentless feeling of being untethered, of floating aimlessly in a vast, empty space.

maybe it was when your mother overdosed, her lifeless body found slumped over in the bathroom, surrounded by the remnants of a life that had spiraled out of control. you had been the one to find her, a memory that still haunted you, that still woke you in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. the sight of her pale, lifeless face was seared into your mind, a constant reminder of the fragility of life, of how easily it could slip through your fingers. you had been left to pick up the pieces, to make sense of the senseless, and in doing so, you had buried your own grief, your own pain, deep within you, where it festered in the dark.

there were your grandparents, the last anchors in your life, the last semblance of stability. their deaths had come like a storm, sudden and unforgiving, leaving you alone in a world that seemed to be crumbling around you. they had been your safe haven, the only ones who understood the weight you carried, and when they were gone, it felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath you. alone. that word echoed in your mind, reverberating off the walls of your empty apartment, a constant reminder of your isolation.

you hated being alone. it wasn’t just a dislike; it was a deep-seated fear, a terror that clawed at you from the inside. when you were alone, your mind became a labyrinth of dark thoughts and memories, each corner hiding another shadow, another demon waiting to pounce. the silence was unbearable, suffocating, so you filled it with noise, any noise that could drown out the voices in your head. you couldn’t stand the short sessions with your patients, craving more time with them, more connection, more distraction from the void inside you. the hour would pass, and you would find yourself wanting to reach out, to extend the session, to hold on to the connection a little longer, just a little longer. but you never did. you were their healer, not the other way around.

housework became a ritual of distraction, each chore accompanied by the blaring sound of music that reverberated through the walls, filling the empty spaces with melodies that drowned out the silence. without music, the house felt too big, too empty, too full of memories you didn’t want to confront. you couldn’t sleep without a movie playing in the background, the flickering light and the familiar voices lulling you into a false sense of security. the thought of lying in bed in complete silence, left alone with your thoughts, was unbearable. so, the movies played, one after another, their comforting narratives keeping the darkness at bay for just a little while longer.

but at the end of the day, when the music stopped, when the movies ended, you were left with nothing but the quiet hum of the empty apartment and the stark realization that you were alone. no parents to comfort you, no friends to lean on, no boyfriend to share your life with. just you. and it wasn’t enough. you had poured so much of yourself into your work, into helping others heal, that you had neglected your own wounds, your own needs. you had become a vessel, emptying yourself for the sake of others until there was nothing left for you.

your patients were the only ones who filled that void, the only ones who made you feel needed, wanted. they confided in you, trusted you, relied on you, and for a while, it was enough. but they were temporary, each one coming to you broken and leaving whole, while you remained the same, a healer who couldn’t heal themselves. when they got better, when they no longer needed you, it broke your heart a little more each time, even though you knew it was coming. it was the nature of your work, after all, to help them, to guide them, and then to let them go. but the letting go was the hardest part because it meant returning to the silence, to the emptiness, to the loneliness that gnawed at you, growing stronger with each departure.

you were sitting in your office, the soft glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room as you sifted through patient files and prescription bottles. the clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, but you barely noticed. the weight of the empty office felt like a cocoon, enclosing you in a familiar, if not comforting, solitude. the sterile smell of paper and faint traces of disinfectant mingled in the air, a scent that had become as much a part of your life as the darkness that you couldn't seem to shake.

the faint sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder as they approached your door. you knew who it was before she even knocked—a gentle, almost tentative rap on the door, followed by the soft creak as it swung open. “still here?” your manager’s voice was gentle, but there was an underlying note of concern that she couldn’t quite mask. hara stepped into the room, her eyes sweeping over the scattered files and the bottles of pills lined up in neat rows on your desk. the look she gave you was one you’d seen many times before—a mix of empathy, perhaps a touch of pity, and something else that you couldn’t quite place.

you didn’t look up immediately, your eyes fixed on the file in front of you as you made a show of scribbling a note in the margins. “just wanted to get as much work done as i could,” you said, finally glancing up with a smile that felt foreign on your lips, a practiced expression that you’d perfected over the years. she didn’t say anything at first, just watched you with those knowing eyes of hers. then she moved closer, placing a hand on your shoulder. the touch was warm, grounding in a way that made you want to lean into it, to close your eyes and let the world fall away. but you didn’t. instead, you stayed still, your smile frozen in place.

“you need to rest,” she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that made something in your chest tighten. she squeezed your shoulder gently before letting her hand drop back to her side. “i will,” you assured her, the lie slipping out as easily as all the others. it was what you were supposed to say, after all, what she expected to hear. but you both knew the truth, didn’t you? you weren’t planning on resting, not anytime soon. rest meant being alone with your thoughts, and that was something you couldn’t bear.

she sighed, a soft sound of resignation, and you could see the conflict in her eyes. she knew she should insist, should tell you to go home and take care of yourself. but she also knew what you would say, how you would deflect with that same smile and those same empty promises. so she didn’t push. instead, she gave you a small nod and fished a set of keys out of her pocket. “lock up when you’re done, alright?” she said, holding the keys out to you.

you reached out to take them, your fingers brushing against hers for the briefest moment before she pulled her hand back. “i will,” you said again, and this time she didn’t bother to respond. she just nodded, casting one last glance around your barren office—the empty desk devoid of personal touches, the phone that never rang—before turning and walking out of the room. the door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone once more. the silence was palpable, pressing in around you, but you welcomed it. it was better than the alternative. you turned back to the files, flipping through them with the pretense of work, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in the fog that seemed to constantly hover just at the edges of your consciousness.

you let the minutes tick by, the hours bleeding into one another as you went through the same files, the same bottles, over and over again. you knew there was nothing left to do, nothing left to distract yourself with, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. not yet. not when you knew what awaited you outside—the cold, unwelcoming night, the empty apartment, the silence that you couldn’t drown out. but eventually, the futility of your actions became impossible to ignore. the same patient files stared back at you, the same labels on the bottles mocking you with their uselessness. you sighed, a long, drawn-out exhalation of breath that carried with it all the weariness you felt but couldn’t show. there was nothing left to do, no more excuses to stay.

reluctantly, you gathered the files and put them back in their proper place, the routine motions bringing you no comfort. the click of the lock on the file cabinet echoed in the empty room, a finality that made your heart sink. you picked up the keys your manager had left you, your fingers curling around the cool metal, and stood up. the room was dark now, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlamps outside. you turned off the desk lamp, plunging the room into shadow, and made your way to the door. the hallway was just as empty as it had been when she left, the building silent save for the occasional creak of the floorboards. you locked the door behind you, the keys jingling in the quiet as you slipped them into your pocket.

the night air was cool when you stepped outside, unlike the stale, sterile atmosphere of the office. you tucked your hands into your pockets, your breath misting in the air as you stood there for a moment, letting the city’s sounds wash over you. it was late—nearly two in the morning—but the city was still alive, the distant hum of traffic and the occasional shout from a passerby reminding you that you weren’t completely alone.

but it didn’t bring you any comfort. if anything, it made the emptiness inside you more acute, unlike the vibrancy of the world around you. you weren’t tired, though you wished you were. exhaustion would have been a mercy, a way to escape the thoughts that clawed at you in the quiet. but sleep was as elusive as peace, and you knew that returning to your empty apartment would only make things worse.

so you let your feet carry you down the street, the familiar route to the small bar that stayed open late. it wasn’t much, just a hole-in-the-wall with dim lighting and a jukebox that played old songs, but it was something. a place where you could lose yourself for a little while, where the music and the people could drown out the noise in your head. the bar was nearly empty when you walked in, just a few regulars nursing their drinks and the bartender wiping down the counter. you slipped onto a stool at the far end, nodding in acknowledgment as the bartender approached.

“just a whiskey,” you said, your voice low, and he nodded, pouring you a glass without a word. you downed the first drink quickly, the burn of the alcohol a fleeting comfort, and ordered another. the jukebox played a song you didn’t recognize, the melody soft and haunting, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it. the chatter around you faded into the background, the clink of glasses and the murmur of voices becoming nothing more than white noise.

but the comfort was temporary, as it always was. the bar was closing, the bartender giving you a sympathetic look as he handed you your tab. you paid it without complaint, sliding off the stool and making your way to the door with a wave of thanks. the night was colder now, the wind biting at your skin as you walked back to your apartment. the streets were emptier, the city slowly falling asleep, and you found yourself wishing you could do the same. but as you reached your building, the familiar weight of dread settled in your chest. you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the silence immediately enveloping you, as it did every night.

you moved through the motions mechanically—kicking off your shoes, tossing your keys on the table, flicking on the lights. but the apartment felt as cold and lifeless as you did, the emptiness pressing in on you from all sides. you thought about turning on the television, letting the sound fill the void, but you couldn’t muster the energy. instead, you stood in the middle of the room, staring at nothing in particular, feeling the weight of the silence bear down on you.

it was suffocating, this loneliness, this isolation. it was a constant companion, one that you couldn’t escape no matter how hard you tried. and as you finally collapsed onto the couch, pulling a blanket around your shoulders, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was how it would always be. if you were destined to live your life in this void, surrounded by silence and shadows, with no one to share it with. the night stretched on, the city outside your window slowly quieting as it finally succumbed to sleep. but sleep didn’t come for you, not easily, not with the thoughts that swirled in your mind, the memories that haunted you. so you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, letting the darkness close in around you, wondering if there would ever be a way out.

the morning sunlight streamed through the narrow gap in your curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. you stretched awake, the familiar feeling of weariness hanging heavy in your limbs, but there was something different about today. it was as though a thin veil had lifted, allowing a sliver of anticipation to seep in. you had always been a person of routine, and the thought of returning to your office, of delving back into the rhythm of your work, brought with it a semblance of comfort, a fleeting escape from the solitude that plagued you.

you moved through your morning routine with efficiency, the motions almost automatic. the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen as you prepared a simple breakfast—toast and jam, with a cup of strong coffee to wake your senses. the radio hummed softly in the background, a familiar companion that provided a semblance of normalcy. you dressed with deliberate care, choosing a crisp, tailored suit that made you feel professional and polished, ready to face whatever the day might bring.

the trip to the office was a brief but pleasant ritual, the city streets bathed in the soft morning light, the air carrying the promise of a new day. you relished the routine, the predictable patterns that offered a sense of control. as you approached your building, you caught sight of the familiar facade, the reassuring solidity of it grounding you.

but as you walked through the entrance, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. hara stood waiting in the lobby. her presence was unusual at this hour, and her expression was more serious than usual. you offered her a friendly smile, but she didn’t immediately return it. instead, she gestured for you to follow her to a quiet corner of the building. “you’ve been working hard,” she began, her tone carrying a note of cautious warmth. “and i wanted to have a word with you.”

you paused, a twinge of apprehension flickering in your chest. “am i in trouble?” you asked, the question escaping before you could second-guess it. hara shook her head, her lips curling into a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “no, not at all. well, not yet,” she said, inhaling deeply as if gathering her thoughts.

your heart skipped a beat. “what do you mean?” the uncertainty in her voice sent a ripple of unease through you. “what’s wrong?” she took a moment to collect her thoughts, her eyes meeting yours with a look of barely concealed concern. “you have a new patient,” she said finally, her tone shifting to one of subdued excitement as she watched your eyes light up at the news.

“really?” you asked, a spark of enthusiasm igniting within you. it had been a while since you had taken on a new case, and the prospect of diving into a fresh challenge was invigorating.

hara held up a hand, her expression turning more serious. “don’t get too excited,” she said, her tone taking on a warning edge. “he’ll be your project patient for your internship at the asylum.” the words hit you like a cold splash of water. “the asylum?” you repeated, the dismay clear in your voice. “but i love working here. this office, this environment—i don’t want to leave.”

hara’s face softened, and before you could fully process what was happening, she stepped forward and enveloped you in a hug. the gesture was unexpected, her arms wrapping around you with a warmth and sincerity that contrasted sharply with her usual professional demeanor. for a moment, you let yourself sink into the embrace, the human contact a rare and precious balm against the isolation that had become your constant companion.

“i know,” she said, her voice muffled against your shoulder. “i know how much you love it here. but this is something you have to do for your career. it’s a good opportunity, and it’s important for your development.”

you barely registered her words, too caught up in the comforting proximity of another person. the embrace lasted only a few moments, but it was enough to stir something deep within you—a longing for connection, for understanding, for more than just the superficial interactions of your daily life. when she finally pulled away, you nodded, a sense of reluctant acceptance settling over you. “okay,” you said softly, the word carrying more resignation than agreement.

she gave you a reassuring smile, her eyes reflecting a mix of sympathy and encouragement. “i’ll call a taxi for you,” she said, guiding you toward the building’s entrance. “it’s best if you head over there now. and remember to keep an open mind. this could be a valuable experience.” you followed her outside, the cool morning air brushing against your face. she hailed a taxi and handed you the keys to the office, reminding you to lock up when you finished. you took the keys with a grateful nod and watched as she walked back inside, her figure disappearing into the building.

the ride was a blur of anxious anticipation and reluctant acceptance. the city passed by in a series of shifting scenes, the familiar streets giving way to more industrial landscapes as you neared the asylum. it was a place you had heard about in passing but had never visited—a cold, imposing structure that seemed to loom on the horizon, its architecture stark and unwelcoming.

the asylum loomed before you like a cold, implacable sentinel against the sky, its grim, grey façade cutting through the morning mist. you stood before it for a moment, taking in the sheer scale of the structure—an imposing monolith that seemed to absorb the light, casting long shadows that stretched over the cracked pavement. the windows were narrow, barred, and the walls bore the harshness of age and neglect. there was something distinctly unwelcoming about it, so unlike the warm, inviting atmosphere of your office.

you pushed open the iron door, and a chill seemed to emanate from the very core of the building. the foyer was austere and utilitarian, the air thick with the smell of disinfectant and something else—a faint hint of despair that clung to the walls and floors. the reception area was starkly lit, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glare over the sterile surroundings. it was a far cry from the soft lighting and cozy furnishings you were accustomed to.

the receptionist sat behind a high counter, her demeanor as frosty as the environment. she looked up as you approached, her gaze assessing you with a detached scrutiny. her uniform was crisp and immaculate, adding to the air of clinical precision that pervaded the space. “name and business?” she asked, her voice flat and devoid of warmth.

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the chill that seemed to penetrate your bones. “i’m (y/n) (l/n), here for an internship as the asylum’s psychiatrist,” you said, your voice steady despite the uneasy flutter in your stomach. the receptionist’s eyes narrowed slightly, and her lips twisted into a thin, humorless line. there was something almost predatory in her gaze, a faint glimmer of disdain or perhaps even pity. “follow me,” she said curtly, her tone leaving no room for discussion.

you trailed behind her as she led you through the labyrinthine corridors of the asylum. the hallways were long and narrow, lined with peeling paint and heavy metal doors. the air was heavy, laden with the echoes of distant voices and the occasional clank of metal on metal. you could hear the shuffling of feet, the murmurs and cries of the patients—a cacophony of sounds that was jarringly different from the calm and composed demeanor of your previous office.

as you walked, you noticed the guards stationed at regular intervals. they were stern-faced and vigilant, their uniforms dark and imposing. their presence was a constant reminder of the control and surveillance that permeated every corner of the asylum. you felt their eyes on you, a silent assessment that made you self-conscious. you passed by several cells, their occupants visible through the narrow windows set into the doors. the patients inside were much unlike the composed individuals you were used to. they paced restlessly, their eyes darting with a wildness that spoke of untamed thoughts and unspoken fears. some shouted incoherently, while others simply stared blankly at the walls. the sense of chaos was eerie, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

eventually, the receptionist stopped in front of a heavy door marked with a simple brass plate that read “psychiatrist.” she unlocked it with a practiced twist of the key and pushed it open, revealing a small, spartan office. the room was a stark departure from the warm, inviting space you were used to. the walls were a dull, institutional green, and the furniture was minimal and functional. there was a plain wooden desk with a single chair behind it and a couple of metal filing cabinets against one wall. a solitary window, heavily barred, provided a view of the bleak courtyard outside. the light that filtered through was cold and uninviting, casting long shadows across the room.

the receptionist stepped inside and placed a folder on the desk. “this is your workspace,” she said, her tone as unfeeling as ever. “you’ll be lucky to make it out alive.”

her words were delivered with a chilling finality, and before you could respond, she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving you alone in the sterile, unwelcoming space. the door clicked shut behind her, and you were left standing in the midst of the clinical bleakness that surrounded you. you stood there for a moment, absorbing the reality of your new environment. the emptiness of the room mirrored the uncertainty that was swirling within you. the asylum was a world apart from the comforting familiarity of your office, a place where every detail seemed designed to unsettle and disquiet. as you took in the surroundings, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret for the warmth you had left behind and a growing apprehension for what lay ahead.

you turned your attention to the stack of files on your desk, organizing them with methodical precision. the papers were a jumble of case histories, treatment plans, and patient backgrounds. as you sorted through them, the muted rustle of paper was the only sound breaking the silence of the room. you had just begun to lose yourself in the paperwork when a sharp knock on the door startled you. the sound echoed in the otherwise still space, cutting through the quiet like a sudden gust of wind. you looked up, but before you could respond, the door swung open with a slow creak, revealing two guards.

the guards were as imposing as their environment, their uniforms sharp and unyielding. they moved with an air of efficiency, each holding an arm of the man who followed them into the room. your gaze fell upon him, and despite your initial wariness, you were struck by an unsettling calmness that seemed to envelop him. he didn't resist; instead, he walked with an eerie composure, his movements measured and deliberate.

the man was restrained in a straitjacket, his arms bound tightly and secured with a belt around his torso. the sight of the straitjacket, with its bold white fabric and heavy buckles, seemed almost surreal against the backdrop of the dull office. the restraints were a harsh reminder of the severe nature of his condition, yet his demeanor was unexpectedly serene. as he was guided to the chair across from your desk, you took the opportunity to study him more closely. he was a tall man, his frame lean but solid. his features were striking—a sharp, prominent jawline and high cheekbones that gave him a distinctly aristocratic appearance. his brown eyes, though calm, carried an intensity that seemed to pierce through the confines of the straitjacket, a depth that hinted at complexities beneath the surface.

there was an unsettling grace to his presence, an almost magnetic quality that drew your attention despite the circumstances. his hair was dark and neatly styled, falling in soft waves that framed his face. the contrast between his physical appeal and the harsh restraints was jarring, creating a dissonance that was difficult to ignore. the guards remained by the door, their expressions guarded and unreadable. they exchanged a brief, knowing look before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone with the restrained man. their departure was marked by the soft click of the door as it closed behind them, and the silence that followed was thick and heavy.

you were left in the room with the man, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders. the office, with its cold, clinical ambiance, seemed suddenly smaller and more confining. you took a deep breath, trying to center yourself as you prepared to begin the session. the man’s calmness was a definite contrast to the environment of the asylum. he patient’s eyes remained fixed on you, a quiet challenge in their depths, as if he were assessing you as much as you were trying to understand him. you could sense a subtle tension in the air, an undercurrent of anticipation that was almost overwhelming.

you took a deep breath, the silence in the room amplifying the subtle rustle of papers as you mentally prepared yourself for the interaction. the restrained man sat calmly in front of you, his demeanor a striking contrast to the harsh confines of his situation. you cleared your throat, attempting to steady your voice as you introduced yourself.

“hello, i’m doctor (y/n) (l/n),” you said, your tone measured and professional. “i’ll be working with you during this internship.” as you spoke, the man’s lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. it was a smile that seemed to hold secrets, one that both intrigued and unsettled you. Hhs eyes glinted with an unsettling mixture of curiosity and amusement.

“lee taeyong,” he said, his voice smooth and articulate. the name struck you with the force of a thunderclap. you hadn’t recognized his face immediately, but his name was unmistakable. lee taeyong—an infamous figure known for his involvement in shootings and robberies. his notoriety had led to his confinement in a correctional facility after being deemed mentally unwell. your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your face go pale, the realization dawning with a cold, unwelcome clarity. taeyong’s keen eyes caught the shift in your expression, and a dry chuckle escaped his lips.

“have you heard of me?” he asked, his tone laced with a subtle taunt. you nodded slowly, trying to mask the tension that was creeping into your chest. “yes, i have.”

his laughter was dry and devoid of genuine mirth, a sound that seemed to echo with a dark undertone. “so, are you gonna cure me, doctor?” he asked, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. you squared your shoulders, forcing yourself to meet his gaze with a confidence you didn’t entirely feel. “there isn’t anything i can’t cure.”

his response was immediate, and he leaned in abruptly, causing you to flinch involuntarily. the sudden movement was unsettling, and you found yourself instinctively retreating. taeyong smirked, clearly amused by your reaction. “are you afraid, doctor?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. you steadied your breathing, forcing a calmness into your voice as you responded, “i’m not.”

his eyes widened slightly in surprise. “you’re too pretty to be a doctor,” he remarked, the compliment carrying an edge of mockery. you raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the conversation on track. “why do you think you’re unstable?”

taeyong’s expression shifted slightly, his demeanor becoming more contemplative. “i don’t think i am,” he said, a hint of defensiveness in his voice. “but everybody else does. they think my urges are abnormal.” intrigued, you leaned forward slightly. “what kind of urges?”

his eyes darkened with a certain intensity as he spoke. “i like the fear and the thrill,” he said, his voice carrying a chilling calm. “the screams, the way everyone is powerless against me. it’s exhilarating.”

your mind raced as you processed his words, but you decided to take an unexpected step. you reached for the straps of his straitjacket and began to unfasten them, freeing his arms. taeyong’s eyes widened in surprise. “what are you doing?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

you smiled, trying to project a sense of ease despite the underlying tension. “i thought you might be more comfortable without the restraints.” his gaze remained fixed on you, his expression a blend of astonishment and wariness. “aren’t you afraid i’ll kill you?”

you met his gaze steadily, feeling a strange sense of calmness despite the gravity of the situation. “i don’t think you will.” his brows knitted together in confusion. “how do you know?”

“because,” you said softly, “i don’t believe you’re a bad person.” the sincerity in your voice seemed to take him aback. his eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he looked genuinely disoriented by your kindness. the atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, a tentative bridge forming between the two of you.

taeyong leaned back, his posture relaxing slightly as he began to open up in a way that was both fascinating and ominous. he spoke of his past, his thoughts, and his perceptions with a raw honesty that was unsettling yet compelling. his words were a tapestry of dark desires and twisted logic, but there was an underlying vulnerability that made it clear he was grappling with his own demons.

as the session drew to a close, he looked at you with an unsettling blend of anticipation and something akin to respect. “i look forward to seeing you again, doctor.” he said, his voice carrying an eerie calmness. to your surprise, you found yourself looking forward to it as well. there was something about the interaction, the unexpected connection, that left you both unsettled and intrigued. as you watched him being escorted out by the guards, the weight of the session settled on your shoulders.

the morning sunlight filtered through the blinds of your apartment, casting a warm, gentle glow over the room. yet, despite the comforting start to your day, your mind was occupied with a singular thought—your next session with taeyong. the anticipation was a new and curious sensation, one that both thrilled and unsettled you. there was something compelling about his presence, a magnetic pull that made you eager to continue your interactions with him.

as you prepared for work, you found yourself contemplating how to make the next session more engaging, more comforting for him. the idea of a small gesture—something that might break through the cold walls of the asylum and create a connection—seemed to be the right approach. you decided to get him a gift, a symbol of the positive interaction you hoped to foster.

you ventured out to a small, quaint shop that morning, one filled with charming trinkets and comforting knick-knacks. your eyes scanned the shelves until they fell upon a small, stuffed kitten, its plush fur a soft, inviting shade of cream. it was delicate and unassuming, a small source of innocence amidst the reality of the asylum. you picked it up with a sense of purpose, imagining how such a simple object might ease the harshness of taeyong’s environment.

when you arrived at the asylum, the day’s routine felt different. the walls seemed colder, the atmosphere more oppressive, but the small stuffed kitten in your bag provided a small spark of warmth. as you approached your office, you were taken aback to find taeyong already seated in the chair, an unexpected sight. his presence there, so much earlier than anticipated, stirred a peculiar flutter in your chest. “you’re early today,” you remarked, trying to keep your tone light and neutral.

taeyong looked up at you, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “i couldn’t wait to see you,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of excitement that made your heart skip a beat. the sincerity in his words resonated deeply with you, and a small, inexplicable connection seemed to click into place. you felt a warm flush creep up your neck, but you quickly pushed the feeling aside, focusing on your planned gesture.

“i have something for you,” you said, reaching into your bag and pulling out the stuffed kitten. taeyong’s eyes widened with surprise and curiosity. “what’s this?” he asked, his tone a mix of intrigue and amusement.

you extended the kitten towards him, a smile playing at your lips. “it’s a little gift. i thought it might help make things a bit more comfortable here.” he took the kitten from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief, electrifying moment. as he cradled the stuffed animal in his hands, a look of genuine appreciation crossed his face. “i’m honored,” he said softly, his gaze fixed on the kitten.

you watched as he examined the plush toy with a sense of fascination. “i want you to take good care of it,” you said, your voice gentle. “if you can fight the urge to hurt it, then maybe you can fight the urge to hurt anything.” his lips curved into a mischievous smile as he toyed with the kitten, his fingers brushing over its soft fur.

“is that your way of challenging me, doctor?” he asked, his tone light but edged with an underlying seriousness. you nodded, trying to maintain a composed demeanor. “something like that,” you replied.

the session began in earnest, the conversation flowing with a new ease as taeyong’s attention seemed drawn to the small stuffed animal. he spoke of his past, his feelings, and his thoughts with a candor that was both unsettling and revealing. his insights were intertwined with moments of dark humor and cryptic reflections, making it clear that he was a man of contradictions. at one point, as you listened intently, his hand, still holding the kitten, brushed against a stray strand of hair that had fallen across your face. the touch was fleeting but intimate, a gesture that caught you off guard. you looked up to meet his gaze, finding a depth in his eyes that was both intense and vulnerable.

“i meant what i said earlier,” taeyong said, his voice softening. “you’re too pretty to be a doctor.” you blinked in surprise, trying to process the compliment amidst the complexity of the situation. “what do you mean?” you asked, genuinely curious.

his expression remained earnest, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincerity that was rare in such an environment. “you just don’t seem like someone who should be confined to this place. there’s something different about you.”

the moment lingered between you, charged with an emotional undercurrent that was difficult to define. despite the oddity of the situation, you felt a surprising warmth in his words. it was an acknowledgment of your humanity amidst the dehumanizing environment of the asylum. as the session drew to a close, you gathered your things, the small stuffed kitten resting on the desk between you. taeyong’s gaze followed you with an almost reluctant admiration, and there was a sense of anticipation in the air as you prepared to leave.

“i look forward to seeing you again,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of genuine hope. you nodded, a small smile touching your lips. “i look forward to seeing you too.”

with that, you watched as taeyong was escorted out by the guards, the connection between you both lingering like a faint but persistent echo. the asylum, with all its harsh realities, seemed momentarily softened by the unexpected bond that had formed. as you left for the day, the small stuffed kitten seemed to symbolize a fragile bridge between your world and his. you just weren't aware of how sturdy, nor how fragile, the bridge really was.

the weeks that followed your initial session with taeyong felt like a delicate dance, a precarious balance between professional distance and the growing, unspoken connection that had begun to develop between you. each session became a complex interplay of emotions and revelations, and you found yourself increasingly invested in his progress.

you had begun to believe, with a cautious optimism, that taeyong was making strides. the sessions were marked by moments of genuine insight and self-reflection from him, which seemed to indicate that he was grappling with his inner turmoil in ways that were both constructive and revealing. there was an undeniable progress, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of hope every time you saw him approach with that enigmatic smile.

during one particular session, you found yourself immersed in a conversation about his past, his regrets, and his aspirations. taeyong, with his characteristic curiosity and sharpness, suddenly shifted the focus of the conversation. “what about you, doctor?” he asked, his voice carrying a tone of genuine interest. “what do you struggle with?”

the question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you hesitated. it was unusual for a patient to turn the spotlight onto you, especially someone like taeyong, whose own issues seemed so consuming. you took a deep breath, searching for the right words to encapsulate the truth.

“i suppose,” you began, struggling to find a way to articulate your feelings. “i've been lonely my whole life.” taeyong’s eyes softened, and for a fleeting moment, the hardness in his gaze seemed to melt away. “no woman like you should ever feel lonely,” he said softly, his tone laced with an unexpected gentleness.

his words struck a chord deep within you, and you felt a sudden, almost overwhelming rush of emotion. you looked up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity. before you could fully process the weight of his statement, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “do you feel lonely with me here?” he asked, his voice a low whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

your heart pounded in your chest, the sound echoing in your ears as if to drown out the rest of the world. the proximity of his body, the intensity of his gaze, and the warmth of his breath combined to create a heady cocktail of sensations. you fought to maintain composure, but the answer came out more as a breathless confession. “no,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

taeyong’s fingers, moving with deliberate slowness, traced a path along your neck. the touch was light but electrifying, a sensation that left your skin tingling and your breath catching in your throat. “you shouldn’t,” he said, his voice carrying an almost imperceptible note of possessiveness.

the weight of his touch, the intimacy of the moment, and the raw honesty in his words created a potent mix of emotions that overwhelmed you. as the session drew to a close, you found yourself grappling with a tumult of conflicting feelings. the professional boundaries that had once seemed so clear were now blurred, and you were left with a gnawing sense of guilt for finding comfort in a connection that was fundamentally inappropriate.

the room seemed colder as you watched him leave, the reality of the asylum returning with its harsh, unyielding presence. you could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the echo of his breath in your ear, and the weight of his words in your heart. the session had brought a confusing mixture of warmth and unease, and as you locked up your office and walked out into the night, the loneliness you had tried so hard to combat felt more intense than ever.

as the days turned into weeks, the asylum’s sterile corridors and echoing chambers seemed to shrink in comparison to the burgeoning world of emotions you experienced during your sessions with taeyong. each encounter with him became a delicate interplay of professional duty and personal connection, weaving a complex tapestry of emotions that you struggled to fully comprehend.

the sessions grew more intense and revealing, both for you and for taeyong. you could no longer ignore the way your heart would race in anticipation of each meeting. the way his eyes would light up when he saw you, the way his presence seemed to fill the room with a bright energy—it was impossible to deny the deepening bond between you.

in one particular session, taeyong sat across from you, the small stuffed kitten now a constant companion in his hands. the stuffed animal had become a symbol of the connection you shared, its presence a silent witness to your evolving relationship. “you know,” he began, his voice carrying a hint of introspection, “i’ve been thinking a lot about what we’ve talked about. you’ve managed to get me to see things differently. i never thought i’d say this, but i think i owe you more than just my progress.”

you looked at him, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected confession. “what do you mean by that?” you asked, your voice steady but filled with curiosity. his gaze was intense, his eyes searching yours with an earnestness that was both disarming and endearing. “you’ve been patient with me, more patient than anyone else ever has. i think,” he paused, choosing his words with care. “i think you’ve made me feel things i didn’t know i could still feel.”

you could feel the weight of his words settling over you, a mix of excitement and apprehension. “and what is it that you feel?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper. he took a deep breath, his fingers absently stroking the kitten. “i feel understood. cared for, in a way I never thought i’d experience again. it’s strange, but i think i’m beginning to look forward to these sessions more than i should.”

the admission struck a chord within you, and you felt a mixture of joy and sadness. joy at the progress he was making and sadness at the realization that your growing affection for him might blur the lines of your professional role. during another session, you found yourself struggling to maintain your composure as taeyong’s attention shifted to you in a way that felt increasingly personal. he leaned forward, his gaze unwavering as he spoke.

“you know,” he said, his voice low and intimate, “i’ve noticed something about you. you seem different when we talk. there’s something in the way you look at me. something more than just concern.” you felt your cheeks flush, a mixture of embarrassment and excitement swirling within you. “what do you mean?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

his eyes softened, and he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against yours. “i think you care about me more than you let on. and i can’t help but feel the same way.”

the admission hung in the air, charged with an electric tension that was impossible to ignore. you felt a surge of emotion, a tumult of conflicting feelings as you tried to process his words. it was both thrilling and terrifying to acknowledge that your feelings for taeyong had grown beyond the boundaries of professional detachment.

as the session continued, his demeanor shifted. he seemed more relaxed, more open, and the connection between you felt more tangible than ever. the way he would smile at you, the way his eyes would linger on yours—it was clear that the emotional bond between you was deepening. you struggled with the guilt and the moral conflict of your growing affection for him, knowing that it was inappropriate yet feeling a profound, undeniable connection.

the day you arrived for your next session with taeyong, you felt an unusual sense of anticipation. the asylum's cold corridors seemed to blur as you walked briskly toward your office, your mind already filled with thoughts of the conversation you hoped to have. but as you reached the familiar door, a pang of anxiety hit you when you noticed the room was empty.

your heart sank as you turned to the guards stationed outside the office. “where’s taeyong?” you asked, trying to keep your voice calm despite the growing concern. the guards exchanged uneasy glances before one of them responded. “they’ve decided to test their luck with another psychiatrist today. wanted to see how he’d react.”

a cold wave of dread washed over you, and you felt a sharp pang of heartache. before you could ask for more details, the silence of the corridor was shattered by a deafening crash. your heart raced as the sound of shattering furniture and frantic shouting reached your ears.

without a second thought, you sprinted down the hallway, your footsteps echoing in the sterile space. as you rounded the corner, you saw the scene unfolding in your office. taeyong, his face a mask of determination, was wielding a chair above his head, his muscles tensed in a show of raw strength. the psychiatrist lay sprawled on the floor, his face a picture of shock and pain. the guards were shouting, their voices a blur as they rushed toward taeyong. “what happened?” one of them demanded, their tone filled with both anger and concern.

his gaze, sharp and intense, found yours amidst the chaos. “i told you,” he said, his voice carrying a fierce determination, “i wanted to see doctor (l/n).”

the room seemed to freeze for a moment as his words sank in. he was swiftly restrained and escorted back to his cell, leaving you standing in the doorway of your office, your heart aching at the sight of the broken scene before you. the guards, now dealing with the aftermath of his outburst, left you waiting alone in the hallway. time seemed to stretch endlessly as you stood there, your mind racing with a tumult of conflicting emotions. when taeyong was finally brought out again, his demeanor was calmer, though his eyes held a deep, unfathomable intensity.

he looked at you with a mix of curiosity and something more personal. “what were you doing there?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with an edge of disbelief. you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze. “i was waiting for you,” you admitted, your voice soft but earnest.

his eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features. “seriously?” you nodded, feeling a strange blend of relief and apprehension. “yes, seriously.”

once back in your office, the atmosphere felt charged with an electric tension. you sat across from him, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of the events. “why did you crash out like that?” you asked, struggling to keep your voice steady. “you were making so much progress.”

taeyong’s expression softened slightly as he reached for the small stuffed kitten that had become a symbol of your sessions. he held it up, its soft fur unmarred by the recent issues. “because,” he said, his voice softening with an intensity that made your breath catch, “i’m in love with you.”

the confession hung heavy in the air, and you felt a surge of conflicting emotions—shock, confusion, and a deep, aching resonance. you stared at him, unable to fully process the gravity of his words. “i am too,” you said finally, your voice trembling with the weight of the admission.

without another word, he leaned forward, his gaze fixed on you with a fierce, unyielding intensity. his lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. it felt wrong, a violation of every professional boundary you had sworn to uphold. yet, the raw, desperate need to connect, to feel something beyond the crushing loneliness that had plagued you, overpowered your sense of propriety.

the kiss was intense, filled with a mix of longing and desperation that made your heart race. his lips were warm against yours, his touch both gentle and insistent. every brush of his mouth, every caress of his fingers, seemed to echo the depth of the emotions you had both been struggling to contain. as the kiss deepened, you felt a wave of conflicting emotions—guilt and exhilaration, fear and desire. the world outside faded away, leaving only the overwhelming intensity of the moment. the walls of the asylum, the rules you had so carefully adhered to, and the boundaries you had maintained all seemed to crumble in the face of the unexpected connection.

taeyong’s hands slid up your body, cupping your tits over your blouse. his thumbs brushed against your nipples, which hardened immediately under his touch. you gasped into his mouth, your body responding with a fiery hunger that was impossible to ignore. his touch was rough, yet tender, as if he was afraid of breaking the fragile bond that had formed between you. his words from earlier played in your mind, and you felt a thrill of arousal that was as surprising as it was undeniable. you pushed back from the desk, the chair scraping against the floor as you stood to face him. your hands found the hem of your blouse, lifting it over your head to expose your bra. his eyes raked over your body, dark with desire. “you have no idea,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “how long i’ve wanted this.”

you stepped closer to him, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. it fell away, revealing your full, round tits. taeyong’s gaze was glued to them, his pupils dilating as he took in the sight. he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as he licked one nipple, then the other, his tongue flicking and teasing until you were moaning with need. your hands found his hair, pulling him closer as his mouth closed around one nipple, sucking hard.

his hands moved to the button of your pants, and with trembling fingers, he unzipped them. you stepped out of them, feeling a sense of vulnerability that was both terrifying and thrilling. he pushed you back onto the desk, his mouth moving down your body as he kissed and licked a trail to your center. his fingers found their way inside your panties, stroking your wet folds.

his tongue darted out, tasting you for the first time. you moaned, arching your back as he explored you with a fervor that left you breathless. he was rough, yet precise, his touch speaking of a hunger that matched your own. you could feel his erection pressing against you through his pants, and the thought of his big dick inside you made you wetter still. his fingers moved to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles that had you panting. your hips rocked against his face, desperate for more. “please, taeyong,” you begged, your voice needy and wanton. “fuck me. make me feel alive again.”

his only response was to stand up, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. his cock sprang free, thick and hard, and you felt your mouth water at the sight of it. he stepped closer, positioning himself between your legs, and without preamble, he pushed into you.

the sensation was overwhelming—he was so much bigger than any man you had ever been with. it was a stretch, a burn that bordered on pain, but the pleasure was so intense that you didn’t care. you gripped the edge of the desk, your nails digging into the wood as he began to thrust, hard and deep. his strokes were punctuated with dirty talk that made you feel like a whore, but it only served to make you wetter, to make you want him more.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, feeling his cock fill you completely. his breath was hot and ragged against your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. “you’re mine, doctor,” he growled. “no better cure than this pussy, fuck.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, and you knew that this was a line you could never uncross. but in that moment, as you felt him thrust inside you with a roar of pleasure, you didn’t care. he was close, his thrusts sloppy as his fingers pulled your hair, your whimpers making his dick twitch.

his hand slid down to cup your ass, his grip tightening as he pounded into you. your tits bounced with every impact, and you could feel his hot breath on your skin as he whispered obscenities in your ear. it was a symphony of degradation and lust, and you were the eager conductor, urging him on. your pussy was tight around his cock, gripping him with every stroke, and you knew you were close to the edge.

suddenly, he pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and needy. you looked up at him, your eyes glazed with passion, and he smirked. “turn over,” he ordered, his voice gruff. you complied, turning onto your stomach and spreading your legs, the cool desk against your burning skin. he stepped behind you, his cock nudging at your entrance again. without warning, he slammed back into you, making you cry out.

the new angle was exquisite, his cock hitting deeper, reaching parts of you that had never been touched before. you pushed back against him, your body begging for more. his hands gripped your hips, his nails digging in as he picked up the pace. “yeah, take it like that, like the slut you are,” he murmured, his voice a mix of praise and command. your cheeks flushed at the words, but you found yourself pushing back even harder, eager to prove his words true. with every thrust, he whispered filthy compliments about your body, his grip on your hips tightening as he fucked you like he owned you.

his hand reached around to play with your clit, his touch sending waves of pleasure through you. your moans grew louder, filling the room. the sound of skin slapping against skin was the only music in the air, a rhythmic crescendo that grew more intense with every second. you felt your orgasm building, your pussy clenching around his cock. “that’s it, doctor. cum for me,” he encouraged, his voice hoarse with lust. and with a final, brutal thrust, you did, your body shuddering with the force of your climax. he followed shortly after, his seed spilling into you, marking you as his.

once the tremors had subsided, he pulled out, leaving you gasping for air. you felt the stickiness between your legs, a reminder of what had just transpired. as you looked back at him, you saw the smug satisfaction on his face, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anger. but it was quickly drowned out by the addictive thrill of the power exchange. you had never felt so alive, so desired. it was therapeutic. and as he stepped closer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, you knew that this was far from over. there was an unspoken promise in his eyes, a challenge for you to come back for more. and you knew, without a doubt, that you would.

as taeyong straightened his clothes, his gaze never left you, the intensity in his eyes as present as ever. he was murmuring something under his breath, and you had to strain to hear his words amidst the whirlwind of emotions you were trying to process. “i feel as if you’ve cured me,” he said softly, his voice carrying a sense of genuine relief.

you blinked, taken aback by his declaration. “are you serious?” you asked, your voice a mixture of disbelief and hope. he nodded slowly, a small, almost serene smile playing on his lips. “yes, i am.”

the room seemed to hold its breath as he began to dress himself, each movement deliberate and composed. your own heart raced as you grappled with the weight of his words. the promise of cure and the possibility of something more twisted together in your mind. he turned to you, his expression serious yet tender.

“i need you to do something for me,” he said, his eyes locking with yours. “anything,” you replied without hesitation, your voice firm despite the storm of emotions brewing within you.

taeyong’s gaze softened slightly, and he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “i need a machine gun.” the request hit you like a jolt. “a machine gun?” you repeated, trying to comprehend the gravity of what he was asking.

“yes,” he confirmed, his voice steady. “if you don’t want to help me, i understand, but i need one.” you were silent for a moment, the enormity of his request settling over you. the ethical and legal implications were enormous, yet the urgency in his tone and the trust he placed in you compelled you to respond. shaking your head, you met his gaze with determination. “i’ll do it.”

taeyong’s eyes lit up with a mixture of relief and gratitude. he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “thank you for curing me.”

the warmth of his touch lingered long after he had left. that night, the enormity of hia request weighed heavily on you, but you were resolute. if this was what he needed, then you would find a way. the loneliness that had plagued you seemed to intensify with the knowledge of his needs, but it also spurred you into action. you spent the evening making discreet, cautious inquiries, your mind racing with worry and determination. you knew the gravity of what you were doing, the potential consequences, but the promise of alleviating your own profound sense of loneliness and his plea drove you forward. finally, after hours of careful navigation through back channels and clandestine meetings, you acquired the machine gun. it was a heavy, ominous object, wrapped in layers of secrecy and dread.

you stored it securely in a hidden compartment of your bag, the weight of it pressing down with a disquieting sense of finality. the next morning, you arrived at the asylum with a mix of dread and anticipation, knowing that the day’s session would be unlike any before. entering your office, you saw taeyong already seated, a patient yet expectant look on his face. your heart skipped a beat as you approached him, the hidden weight of the machine gun in your bag seeming almost to pulse with your anxiety.

“good morning,” you said, forcing a smile. “good morning,” he replied, his eyes immediately catching the glint of anticipation in yours.

you sat down across from him and carefully extracted the machine gun from your bag. his eyes widened in surprise and then satisfaction as you laid the weapon on the desk before him. “i didn’t think you’d actually do it,” he said, his voice a mix of awe and approval. “you said you needed it,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “i wouldn’t let you down.”

taeyong’s gaze softened as he reached out to touch the machine gun, his fingers brushing over the cold metal with a sense of reverence. “thank you,” he said quietly. “i knew you were the right fit for me.” the session continued with a shift in atmosphere. taeyong seemed more at ease, his demeanor less guarded and more open. the conversation flowed with a new ease, and you felt a strange sense of fulfillment. the machine gun, despite its ominous presence, seemed to be a catalyst for something deeper between you.

as the session drew to a close, you found yourself reluctant to leave, savoring the brief moments of connection and understanding. you had made significant strides with taeyong, and the realization that he trusted you so deeply was both exhilarating and unsettling. the rest of the day was spent in a haze of reflection. you sorted through files and paperwork, your mind frequently drifting back to him and the connection you shared. the solitude of your office seemed less oppressive, the quiet punctuated by thoughts of him. each task felt like a distraction from the growing realization that, in taeyong, you had found a source of profound connection.

in the quiet of your office, surrounded by the mundane tasks of your work, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant had shifted. the loneliness that had once felt so encompassing now seemed to have been touched by the fleeting moments of intimacy and connection you had shared with him. you were less alone than you had been before, and yet, the path you were on was fraught with moral and emotional complexity.

the night fell over the asylum with a chilling, almost suffocating stillness. you were at your desk, sorting through a mountain of paperwork, the dim light casting shadows over the piles of files. the routine of your task offered a semblance of normalcy, a brief respite from the whirlwind of emotions and decisions that had consumed you lately. you were lost in the monotony of sorting and filing when an unsettling noise shattered the silence.

the distant sounds of gunshots, crashing furniture, and frantic screams pierced through the walls. your heart leapt into your throat as the reality of what was unfolding outside became painfully clear. Instinctively, you ducked under your desk, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you tried to stifle the rising panic. the noises outside were chaotic, a cacophony of violence and fear that seemed to grow louder by the second.

taeyong’s plan had taken shape, and the asylum was in disarray. he had enlisted the help of several other inmates, each fueled by the same chaotic energy that defined taeyong himself. the sound of gunfire rang out intermittently, each shot a reminder of the danger that now surrounded you. the air was thick with tension, and you could hear the muffled sounds of struggle and conflict as the inmates carried out their rebellion.

the commotion grew closer, and suddenly, two figures burst into your office. your heart pounded in your chest as they grabbed you roughly by the arms. you struggled against their grip, your cries of protest barely audible over the tumult outside. they dragged you to your desk and, despite your frantic attempts to break free, began restraining you with the belts from straitjackets. the leather straps cut into your skin as they bound your arms and legs to the desk, rendering you immobile.

you pleaded with them, your voice trembling with fear and desperation. “please, don’t do this. let me go. i’ll do anything.”

the inmates remained silent, their faces impassive as they completed their task. the office, once a place of calm and control, was now a prison, its familiar surroundings now oppressive and alien. as the last of the restraints were secured, the door creaked open, and taeyong stepped into the room. his appearance was striking against the backdrop of screams. he was calm, almost serene, despite the mayhem that had unfolded. the sight of him brought a mix of relief and dread. you gazed up at him, your eyes wide with terror as you tried to make sense of what was happening.

“taeyong,” you said, your voice quivering. “are you really gonna kill me?”

he walked towards you with an unsettling calm, his expression unreadable. as he neared, he paused, his gaze locking with yours. “i’m not going to kill you,” he assured, his voice soft but carrying a chilling edge. “i just need to hurt you enough to make sure you’ll be mine.”

the words hung heavy in the air, and your heart raced as you watched him produce a small metal device from his pocket. the sight of the electric shock equipment made your blood run cold. it was an instrument of pain, and its presence signaled a new level of cruelty.

to your surprise, taeyong’s expression softened, and he took a step closer. “i know you thought you were helping me,” he said, his tone almost apologetic. “but now it’s my turn to help you.”

the device was cold against your skin as he pressed it to your head. a jolt of electricity surged through you, and your body convulsed involuntarily. the sensation was overwhelming, a harsh intrusion into your consciousness. you felt your mind slipping away from the present, a series of fragmented images and memories flashing before your eyes.

your mother’s face appeared, her eyes filled with pain and sorrow. then, your father, followed by your grandparents, each visage a poignant reminder of loss. the images shifted and morphed, replaced by a vision of yourself with taeyong. you were working together, your roles reversed, with him now a cured man, living with you in a semblance of normalcy. the visions continued, showing a future that was both alluring and terrifying. you saw yourselves speeding down a highway, the police in hot pursuit. the trunk of your car was filled with money, a symbol of the danger and thrill that had become intertwined with your relationship. the exhilaration of the chase was intense, but it was overshadowed by an undercurrent of dread.

the final image was the most haunting. you saw yourself detached, your love for taeyong twisted into something unrecognizable. the thrill had turned into a grim reality, the danger of your actions reflected in the cold, hard truths of your choices. the vision was a cruel reminder of the consequences that awaited you, the stark reality of a future bound by the darkness you had embraced.

as the electric shock subsided, your body trembled uncontrollably. your mind was a whirlpool of conflicting emotions and revelations. you felt a profound sense of numbness, the shock leaving you disoriented and frightened. the room seemed to close in around you, what used to be a familiar space now a prison of your own making. in the end, you wished it had killed you. death seemed more reasonable, more promising, than what the future had in store for you.

✧.*

a/n: requested fic!!! the smut part at least i really dk where i was going with this plot lol

horror shorts (공포 단편)

bangtan sonyeondan (방탄소년단)

✧.* 16+

KIM NAMJOON (김남준)

it took him a week to find where you keep your wifi password. he was worried you’d thrown it away, but there it was in the cutlery drawer of all places. everything about the way you organized things confused him. maybe because you lived on your own, you just put things wherever and however. he knew there was someone else before, he heard you talking about him on the phone. jin? seokjin? anyway, he knew you said it was tough being alone. but you weren't alone, of course. you had him.

there was a crack in your roof where he could see down onto the street below. the roof was small, but he liked his places cramped. he even stuffed a few things up there to make it smaller (just bits and pieces from the recycling, he didn’t think you’d miss them). he could sit with his face against the wall and see down onto the street. that’s where he saw you meeting up with all those people wearing all black. it would've been weird anyway because you never meet anyone, but they were all rubbing your back and holding your hand. he was scared you were going to bring them in but you just went off together.

it really explained a lot that there was someone else before him. like the fact you had two sets of drawers in your bedroom, or how you lived in such a big house all by yourself, and did weird things like leave the password in the cutlery drawer or watch the same show all day on a weekend.

he wasn't one to talk, mind you. he was addicted to his toys. like the cigarette lighter that was fun to flick on and off, or the tube that had all the patterns in you could change. he could look down that thing for hours. he often has. that was what he normally did when you were home. or he just sat back and listened to you do the washing or run a shower or something like that. he crawlled up the walls and hung there with his ear to the pipes, listening to the water rushing by. that kind of thing made him happy. plus you never had anyone around so once he got your schedule memorized, he could move around as much as he needed.

he knew what you had. it was a symbiotic relationship. that meant you helped him by giving me a place to sleep and wifi, and he helped you by eating all the spiders. of course, there was no need to thank him. he fell asleep under the towels in your airing cupboard once (before he found the roof) and he saw you trying to get rid of one that was living under your sink with a broom. he had never seen so much fuss in his entire life. but it made no difference to him how many legs something has, so he just ate them up whenever he found one, and any other thing that made its way into the house without permission.

he tried not take too much food either. he found he could usually survive off the things you left out, or throw away. like the banana skins you tended to throw out. he never needed too much food to get by. he really, really liked butter though. not to eat so much as just to play with. you once left a block out by the window in the sun and it went all melty while you were at work, so he started playing with it. once he’d stuck his finger in once it was hard to stop. he had it looking like a puddle by the end. but then, he realized it was six and you’d be home soon, so he had to press it back into a rectangle as best he could. but then, he heard you opening the door. boy was he startled. he went into the cupboard under the stairs (the one you never went in as it was full of men’s shoes and coats) and he watched you come in through the doorway. but then came the weird part: you didn’t even notice the butter. all you did was make a cup of tea and then give up halfway through and start crying. then you ordered a chinese and barely ate any before throwing it away. that was what he meant about your weird habits.

you cooked dinner the other evening. he noticed because you played music, which you never did, and you made something with took almost an hour and a half with about a thousand ingredients. he crept down to the top of the staircase and he could see you bouncing around doing moves with the spoon. it was so funny, he had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. then he saw something that had him scared. you’d laid two places at the table.

he thought there was someone else in the house and climbed all the way up to the ceiling thinking they’d see him. as he was hanging there, he saw you serving two plates and he couldn’t move for the panic. another person. he just knew he wouldn’t like them as much as you. that they'd ruin everything and make him go all crazy like he used to be. he didn't know what to do. he was ready to hurt them.

then you sat down. you lit the candle on the table and started eating by yourself. nobody else showed up, and after you were done you took the other food and threw it away. even though he was relieved, he felt kind of bad that the other person never showed up. you didn’t seem sad, though. it was like you’d expected it to just be you. after you went to bed, he went through the bin and ate some of the food you threw away. it was delicious.

he knew something was wrong the next day because you didn’t leave for work, and then you ran a bath in the middle of the afternoon. after you’d been in there for ages and ages, he started to get this horrible bad feeling. he crawled down to the landing. the bathroom door was open a crack, so he peeked through. he saw your hand. it was hanging, not in a natural way, and there was this long red line going down it and then he realized.

he ran back upstairs. he was a coward. he hid under his pile of stuff and started to cry. he thought about running away. he thought about the color a pink bathmat went when it was covered in blood. he thought about how much he wanted to be somewhere else. but most of all, he thought about you, and how little sense you make. he was sorry he had lit your roof on fire.

it was the only way he could think to get people to come. it actually worked better than expected. he ran down to the cupboard under the stairs and curled up with his hands over his head until he heard them kick the door down and carry you out. there was a lot of confusion and bad language, but they found you and he heard one say you were still breathing.

so, his favorite place in the whole world was gone now. most of his things as well, though he did think to grab the pattern tube. the rest was just a big black wig on top of your house. but he wasn't scared. you’d get better, and when you came back, he’d still be here. he didn't think it was nice to be alone.

© r/NoSleep

KIM SEOKJIN (김석진)

“hey,” the masculine voice called out.

you told yourself you were just imagining it.

“hey sweetheart,” the masculine voice repeated.

you drew youe knees up to your chest and ducked your head under the blanket, trying to shut out the voice and the cold wind that drifted in through the window, ruffling the curtains. it was as if you were a little girl again, but you weren't. “who are you?” you asked.

“the monster underneath your bed,” the voice replied.

“you’re real?” you asked.

“what do you mean?” he said. “of course i’m real.”

“do you have a name?” you asked.

“of course i have a name, kim seokjin.”

“kim seokjin?”

“yeah,” he said. “something wrong with that?”

“no,” you said. “it’s just not very monster-like.”

“well, my parents didn’t want me to be a monster.”

“really? what did they want you to be?”

“a lawyer.”

“that’s funny,” you said. in fact, you could feel yourself beginning to smile.

“what do your parents want you to be?” he asked.

“dunno, hey jin?”

“yeah?”

“aren’t you gonna scare me or something?”

“why would i do that?”

“you’re a monster, aren’t you?”

“of course, but that doesn’t mean that i scare girls.”

“i thought that was your job.”

“it is my job to scare people,” he responded. “bad people.”

“am i a bad person?” you asked.

“no,” he said, “but you’re not the one i’m here to scare.”

“who are you here to scare?” you asked.

“the man in your closet.”

the skin on your arms went numb. you wanted to ask him what he meant, but you fell silent as you heard a rustling come from the closet. the closet door creaked open, and you could hear footsteps coming towards you across the bedroom floor. you didn’t dare peek out of the blanket. the footsteps stopped, and you could hear heavy breathing next to your head, so you squeezed your eyes tight. the warm sanctuary of the blanket disappeared as it was yanked off you.

you hugged your arms around your knees and prepared for the worst. a scream shattered the night air, followed by the sound of breaking glass. you opened your eyes to take a peek, only to see a knife lying on the carpet next to your bed, blade glinting in the moonlight. your parents rushed into the room and asked you what had happened, but you didn’t know what to say, only that someone had been hiding in your closet and they’d jumped out the window.

your parents called the police and they came right away. they picked up a man called jackson wang sprinting through the streets a couple blocks away. he was covered in blood and broken glass. they found jackson’s car abandoned on your property, and inside they found duct tape, knives, gloves and a video camera.

from what you heard, jackson’s lawyer employed an insanity defense, and he was currently incarcerated in a state mental facility for the criminally insane. you never heard from seokjin again, but the officer who arrested jackson told you that he slept on the floor of the facility.

he told the doctors that he was terrified of seokjin, the monster under his bed.

MIN YOONGI (민윤기)

do not speak of this sheet to any passenger. you are the only human on this flight. 

check the time on your phone after reading this sheet. all rules will apply based on the time of your phone. 

during the first hour of the flight, do not talk to anyone. people may try to talk to you, but ignore them completely.

during the second hour of the flight, you may start talking again, but if anyone mentions the window, do not look outside the window under any circumstances.

if you hear a child crying in the cabin, immediately run to the bathroom.

during the third hour of the flight, the captain will make an announcement. follow the instructions.

during the fourth hour of the flight, do not sit in your seat.

if you make it past the fourth hour, you will need to spend the rest of the flight evading the chaser. you will know who the chaser is when you see them.

he re-read the rules again while chuckling. did they give one of those to every passenger, or was he somehow randomly chosen for this prank? he checked the time on my phone just to humour the list. 7:13am.

that would be the first hour of the flight. suddenly, a young man walked over to his seat and sat right beside him. he gave him a casual side glance and saw that he was carrying what looked to be a laptop bag. “great,” yoongi thought, “he’ll work on whatever he’s doing and leave me alone for the flight”

the man didn’t even bother to exchange a single word with him as he settled down in his seat and put on his seatbelt. he stared straight ahead and completely avoided him. yoongi let him be and started to fiddle with his flight console. some people just liked to be left alone. 

soon enough, the captain made an announcement of the plane starting and the steady hum of the plane engines started to vibrate the entire cabin. the plane started to accelerate until the g-force pushed him into his seat. moments later, he felt the plane rising into the air. he wasn't typically scared of flights, but getting on a flight always made him a bit queasy. this time though, his stomach was in knots, and beads of sweat were running down his forehead. his instincts told him he was stepping into grave danger, but he dismissed his thoughts.

the young man on his left suddenly tapped on his shoulder. he jolted up like he’d just been electrocuted. even through his jacket, the man's hand felt cold. cold and heavy, like a dead person’s hand. 

he turned around and faced the young man. his face seemed, wrong. you know how those realistic human robots could creep people out because of how close to human they were, yet subconsciously we could tell that they weren’t human? that man was giving him that same unsettling feeling and his facial features were just artificial in a way he couldn’t place. maybe it was his eyes. a little too big, the pupils abnormally dilated. or maybe it was his nose, not exactly in the center of his face. or perhaps it was his mouth, lips way too thin and long. he didn’t look obnoxiously fake. in fact, it was those very subtle blemishes in his facial features that made him look like something trying to look like a human. and then he spoke.

his voice was normal. upon hearing his voice, the man seemed to look normal too and yoongi thought he was just freaking out for no reason. “do you wear headphones?” he asked

that was a weird question to ask. sid he want headphones? yoongi was about to open my mouth to speak when he spoke again. 

“how would you feel if i cut your hand off right now?”

what was disturbing wasn’t the nature of the question itself, but the fact that he spoke in such a calm manner. it was as if he was asking him how his day was. suddenly, his mind went to the list of rules that he had subconsciously been squeezing in his hand. the first rule said to not talk to anyone on the flight no matter how much they tried to talk to you. he decided to ignore the man.

he stopped pestering yoongi and returned to work on his laptop. when he looked over at his laptop, he gasped at what he saw on his screen. 

he had a photo of yoongi on his screen. that’s it. nothing else, just a full screen photo of him. before he could process that properly, he looked over at his keyboard and noticed that it wasn’t a standard keyboard. in fact, it really wouldn’t even count as a keyboard. it was made up of oddly shaped keys, all marked with strange letters that he doubt existed. the man continued to stare intently at the photo of me on his screen. it was then that yoongi realized that the list of rules wasn't a joke. suddenly, a flight attendant popped out of nowhere. 

“sir, is this man bothering you?”

“yes he is,” he replied before his voice caught up in his throat. 

in under a second, everyone in the cabin snapped their heads around until they were staring directly at him. their faces, they all looked wrong. inhumane. slowly, their long thin lips curled into wide smiles, and red tears started to roll down their faces. 

JUNG HOSEOK (정호석)

looks like you’re using a new device. please verify your identity with the following security questions.

he hated answering those questions. he resentfully clicked, “ok.”

what was the name of your childhood best friend?

hoseok's hands hovered over the keyboard. two people came to mind—kim namjoon and min yoongi. he hadn’t talked to them in years, but considered them best friends back then. he couldn’t remember which he’d entered when he made the account, so he started with namjoon.

incorrect answer.

this was precisely why he hated these questions. he tried yoongi.

incorrect answer.

he tried first and last names. nicknames. surnames only. each time, the same message popped up: incorrect answer. he sat there, confused, staring at the screen. skip this question, he clicked, finally. but the next question had him even more confused.

what was the name of your high school?

“hanyang cyber university,” he entered.

incorrect answer.

how? frowning, he entered “hanyang cyber university,” “cyber university of hanyang.” every permutation of “hanyang” and “university” he could think of. anything that it could possibly be. but each time, those two words popped up, burning into his brain. incorrect answer.

skip this question, he clicked, and the next question popped up.

do you remember now, hoseok?

he jolted back from the screen. what the hell? his heart pounded and he suddenly felt dizzy. faint. he wiped at his face, feeling the walls closing in. then, he blinked. no. that’s not what it said. he misread it. he reread the sentence:

did you receive a text just now, hoseok?

we’re going to try to verify your account a different way. enter the verification code we sent to (XXX)-XXX-1539...

everything was fine. he picked up his phone and began tapping at the screen—then, jerked his fingers back. what was that? something wet and dark coated the glass, sticking to his fingertips. he wiped the phone off against his shirt, grimacing, and opened the text. fingers shaking, he slowly entered the code into the site.

thank you, hoseok. you’re all set!

he stood up, stretched, and walked towards the kitchen. he needed a drink after all this. after rummaging in the pantry for a few minutes, he pulled out a bottle of soju and poured himself a shot.

as he tipped his head back to down it, he saw the blood.

so much blood, pooling out from something unseen in the family room. his heart beat painfully in my chest as he crept forward. a body. face down. his jean pocket was turned inside-out, and strewn across the carpet were his wallet, his keys. no phone. trembling, he reached for the wallet and pulled out a driver’s license. the first name jumped out at him.

HOSEOK

he reached into his own pocket and pulled out his wallet. but he already knew the truth, now. he wasn’t hoseok. he never was.

he glanced over at his laptop, and the phone, sitting next to it. the bank’s account homepage, filling the screen, showing thousands of dollars ready to be transferred.

he’d done this.

he remembered, now.

PARK JIMIN (박지민)

every night on his walk home from work, jimin listened to true crime podcasts. even though his favorite podcast already released their episode for this week, the app said there was a new one. excited, he let it play.

“it was a nice city—the kind that has mom and pop shops lining the street, the kind where everyone knew your name. but little did the residents know that they would soon be rocked by a horrible crime.”

he stopped at a traffic light. the red glowed in the darkness, glinting off the wet street. a black suv sloshed by. across from him, eerie blue refrigerator lights glowed from inside a corner deli. the chairs all up on their tables, feet in the air. the signal turned to WALK.

“that chilly september evening was no different for the young student. he'd left his shift at the local store and walked back home, except he never made it home.”

young student. local store. damn, this was hitting close to home. he was a part-time student at seoul community college, and worked at the local convenience store. and, of course, he was walking home. he glanced behind him—looking at the alleyway behind the barbeque place, which was dark except for the neon light spilling from the sign.

“his girlfriend reported him missing the next day. the town conducted a volunteer-led search, and after two days, they found something.” dread formed in hiw stomach, anticipating “a body,” but what he heard next was so, so much worse.

“washed up on the shore of seokchon lake, they found a pair of size 9 red converse sneakers.”

he stopped. and looked down at my red converse sneakers, damp from the rain. what the hell? his heart began to pound.

“the shoes were sent to a forensic analyst, who would compare its wear pattern to another pair of his shoes to try and determine if they belonged to the victim.”

a rumbling sound made him jump. he turned, to see a dark suv turning left at the intersection. didn't he see that car a few minutes ago? maybe it was following him, and—

the car passed him and disappeared into the darkness.

come on, jimin. get a grip. converse were popular sneakers. a little out of fashion, but still. 9 was a common men's shoe size. and what college student didn't have some sort of a job? come on.

“after a few weeks, the results came back. the analyst was certain: the shoes belonged to none other than park jimin.”

the blood drained from his face.

park jimin.

his name.

he didn't have time to think. he forced himself to move. he broke into a run. the small shops turned into a colorful blur.

“searching the lake came up empty. without a body, a crime is hard to solve. but police didn't give up. and finally, a witness came forward: someone had seen a car parked at the lake that night, around 2 am. a black suv with tinted windows.”

he whipped around. the street was empty. no people, no cars. no witnesses, said the little voice in the back of his mind, the one that’s watched way too many true crime shows. his eyes scanned the shops. all closed.

“there were six black suv's matching the witness’s description in the area. but one of them, in particular, caught detective lee’s eye. it belonged to jo heemin, a registered sex offender.”

the sound was so soft he almost didn’t hear it over the voice of the podcast. he whipped around—and there it was. two blaring-white headlights behind him. coming from a black suv.

he forced his legs to pump faster. the car didn't speed up; it crawled along, slowly, taking its time. like the driver knew he could catch him, no matter what. he glanced back, trying to make him out behind the darkened windshield—but the headlights were too bright to see anything.

“he wasn’t just a registered sex offender. he’d been convicted of assaulting a men he worked with, who were on the skinnier side and had short, light hair, just like jimin.”

the car crawled down the road. stalking him, like a lioness stalked her prey. he veered left, onto his dark residential street. just a few more steps.

headlights flashed across him, illuminating my running shadow on the pavement. he didn't look back. he just ran, as fast as he possibly could. the little brown house with the yellow shutters came into view. he sprinted across the grass, grabbing his keys from his pocket. click. he threw the door open, and slammed it shut behind him.

then, he turned the deadbolt, collapsed against the door, and began crying. he heard the rush of the car passing his house, continuing down the road. but he wasn't safe—you weren't home yet. he was alone, in a dark house, with someone driving down the street who knew exactly where he lived. still sobbing, he checked all the locks. then, he called you, who assured him you were five minutes away.

he made his way down the dark hallway and headed into the bathroom. then, he set his phone on the counter, grabbed a clump of tissues, and began to blow his nose. click.

he jumped. whipped around.

but it wasn't coming from outside the door. his phone's screen lit up, the podcast was still playing. he must have hit it when he put the phone down. it had skipped several minutes forward, according to the play indicator.

“what do you think happened to jimin?” the baritone voice asked. he reached for it, to turn it off.

“well, he'd told me he wanted to run away before.” he stopped dead.

it was your voice. clear as day, coming from the speakers.

“he did? why?” the voice asked.

“he wasn't happy with his grades, his job, his parents. he told me sometimes he'd dream of just moving to some random country and leaving it all behind.”

he froze, staring at the mirror. he never said that. never. you—were lying?

“i mean, that was hurtful to me as his girlfriend, you know? i thought we were gonna get married someday. but apparently he didn't feel the same way.”

his heart pounded in his ears.

“so you think he just skipped town, and is happily living his life out somewhere else? rather than being abducted or murdered?”

a pause.

“yes. that’s exactly what i think.”

KIM TAEHYUNG (김태형)

it was as you were sitting alone, again, at night that you realized you needed to change something. this wasn't a life you wanted: children. but you loved taehyung and you knew know somin was his world, so you tried to accept it. you tried. she was cautious though and, despite your best efforts, you never bonded as taehyung hoped you would.  

he popped his head out of somin's room after bedtime stories to tell you that she was feeling scared and he was going to stay with her until she fell asleep. you both knew he would fall asleep too, and you would eat dinner and go to bed alone again.

you decided to make a plan. and you knew it sounded awful, but you’d never agreed to living like this. 

he'd be devasted. he'd miss her. but one day, he'd get over it and then you could live out the rest of your lives together and unburdened. you could travel. taehyung wouldn't have to work so hard to pay for her inhalers. it was the only path forward you could see. you would become enough for him. 

you wouldn't kill her. you weren't a monster. all it would take was a phone call. you bought a burner phone and everything.

the following day, you added extra-strength cough syrup to somin's juice so she would sleep through any commotion. she said it tasted funny, but she was a good girl and drank it at your insistence.

when taehyung asked why she seemed off, you did my best to reassure him she was just tired. for a moment, you considered calling it off, but you could see the light at the end of the tunnel so clearly now.

after somin's bedtime, when taehyung left for a night shift, you arranged the drop at namsan park. at this hour, it should be empty.

you wrapped somin in her blanket and loaded her into the car. your mind kept replaying directions to namsan park, though you’d been there a hundred times.

you made it halfway down the farm’s driveway when a sound from the backseat made your stomach churn. in the rearview you saw somin, still asleep, but her breathing was labored. you forgot her inhaler.

the need wasn’t immediate but you couldn’t risk it. you left the car running and raced back inside. when you returned to the driver’s seat, the air felt different. an unease washed over you.   

“where do you think you're going?” taehyung's voice, a chilling mix of rage and betrayal, came from the backseat. you froze as a shiver ran up your spine. the wire felt cold against your neck for a split second before taehyung pulled it tight.

as you felt your life slipping away, your mind drifted to somin's parents. like the rest of the world, you'd seen them on the news a lot over the last several months. 

how long would they wait at namsan park?

they were so hopeful they'd see their little girl again.

JEON JUNGKOOK (전정국)

jungkook's wife went missing six months ago. you went out to work one day and never came home. it was a horrible shock to the whole neighbourhood, because things like that just didn't happen in your little slice of suburbia. the police launched an investigation, and the neighbourhood watch sent out search parties, but no one ever found any evidence to indicate what had happened to you. your families were devastated. recently, the missing posters have been taken down or papered over. the updates from the police became less frequent and dwindled away. jungkook accepted that, hard as it was to admit, you weren't coming back.

until you did.

a week ago, jungkook was in the back garden watering his petunias, when he heard the garden gate creak open. he jerked his head in that direction and, there you were. exactly the same as you were the day you disappeared. he was in shock. your families had mourned for you, and yet there you were, standing in your garden like you had just popped out for milk or something. when he asked where you had been, you said you didn't know. you couldn’t remember anything about the last six months.

all your family and friends are beside themselves with joy. they almost couldn't believe it. but that was the thing: he didn't believe it.

your families would never believe him, and he couldn’t go to the police unless he want to end up in a straightjacket. but he just knew that the woman sleeping next to him wasn't his wife. he didn't know what to do. he knew he should've been happy, but he wasn't. he was terrified. he didn’t know much about anything supernatural or paranormal, he didn't even like watching horror movies. but something about it all made his skin crawl.

the morning after you came home, he made you a cup of tea. when he handed it to him, you gave him the brightest smile. then, you took a sugar cube from the dish on the table and dropped it into the cup. your house was in chaos with your return, and jungkook was still in shock, so he didn't think much of it at the time, but it had been replaying in his mind ever since. he knew it didn't sound very significant, but you never put sugar in your tea.

then, it was the golf. a few days ago, when you was out visiting your mom, jungkook recorded a golf tournament that was showing. it was one of your favourite golfers that was competing, and you never missed it. once, you even skipped out on an anniversary dinner just to watch a championship. only, when you came home from your parents' and he told you what he'd done, you just seemed unbothered. you said thanks and everything, and then you asked if he wanted to get dinner. you didn't even watch it, and that was just out of character for you.

the final nail in the coffin, proverbially speaking, was jinyoung. just this morning, he came knocking on your door. his excuse was the tray of brownies he carried, but jungkook thought he just wanted to push his way into your morning so that he could see for herself what the situation was. after he left, jungkook called him a nosy busybody. you laughed, kissed his head, and agreed with him. that was when he knew for sure that it couldn't really be you. you always used to get mad whenever he insulted jinyoung, like he didn't have any right to hate him even though he'd been fucking his wife for years. but today there was none of that. he didn’t even try to defend her.

but you know why jungkook was dead certain that woman wasn't his wife? you didn't have a scar. if you were really her, you'd have a scar on the side of your forehead shaped like the golf club he hit you with. but there was nothing. not a mark. honestly, he was close to going out tonight and digging up his petunias, just to make sure you were still under there.

✧.*

spoiled 2 (스포일드 2) — kim seokjin (김석진)

the first part can be found here

✧.* 18+

you had always been the embodiment of a scheming siren, a creature spun from the threads of allure and intellect. every glance, every smile, was a carefully crafted tool, sharpened to perfection. you thrived in the delicate art of manipulation, pulling strings from behind the veil of charm, weaving plots that ensnared the unwary. with a single touch, you could shift the tides of fate, bend them to your will, and watch as those around you danced to the silent tune you composed.

but this time, the game had changed. the role you played was no longer for pleasure or power—it was for escape. your engagement, a gilded cage, had been crafted for you, a symbol of everything you were meant to control but now found yourself ensnared by. the diamond on your finger weighed like a shackle, and the promises made in whispered words felt like chains tightening around your throat.

you twisted your mind, searching for cracks in the flawless facade, knowing that your freedom lay not in confrontation, but in the subtle unraveling of the very threads that bound you. the plans you spun were delicate, a web of deception layered with just enough truth to keep suspicion at bay. every move was calculated, every word chosen with care, to shift the narrative in your favor. you painted yourself as the perfect fiancée, playing the role with grace, all the while nurturing the seeds of doubt and discord in the shadows.

in the past, your plots were for sport, for the thrill of seeing how far you could push the boundaries of control. but now, every step was survival, every twist of fate another step closer to breaking free. you were no longer the siren who lured others into the depths for amusement; you were the one fighting to rise to the surface, to breathe again. the endgame was clear—a way out, a return to the freedom you once commanded with such ease. and so, you continued to weave, to plot, with the same precision and finesse that had always been your trademark, but with a desperation that had never once been a part of your schemes.

the candlelight flickered softly between you and taehyung, casting a warm glow over the pristine white tablecloth, though it did little to thaw the icy silence that hung between you. it was always like this—silent, awkward, a charade neither of you cared to keep up any longer. you barely touched the expensive meal before you, your appetite lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts. across from you, taehyung’s eyes flicked up, dark and unreadable as they met yours.

“you’ve barely touched your salad,” he noted, his voice flat, lacking the usual lilt that others found so charming.

your gaze drifted to the untouched plate, the elaborate dish as unappealing as the life laid out before you. the game you’d played so expertly was wearing thin, and the time had come to take control in a way you hadn’t before. “i want to break off the engagement,” you said, your tone measured, each word a carefully placed stone.

for a moment, you might have thought he hadn’t heard you. he continued to eat, each movement slow, deliberate, as if your words had no more effect than the faint rustle of leaves outside. but you knew him well enough to see the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his grip tightened ever so slightly on the silverware.

“i don’t love you,” you continued, the truth sitting like a heavy stone in the pit of your stomach. it was something you had never spoken aloud, a reality you both had known but never acknowledged.

he scoffed, the sound bitter, as he finally looked at you with those inscrutable eyes. “what makes you think i love you?” you flinched inwardly, the words stinging more than you expected, but you pressed on. “then why are we doing this? let’s break it off now.”

he set his knife and fork down with a deliberate clink, the sound sharp in the heavy silence. his gaze locked onto yours, stern and unwavering, the weight of his words settling over the table. “we’ve known each other our whole lives.” he paused, a slow breath filling the space between you. “when we were ten, i thought you were amazing. you were beautiful and smart. you talked to yourself in japanese, spoke to your cousin in english, and talked to me in korean.”

his voice softened, a hint of something you couldn’t quite place threading through his words. but the moment passed as quickly as it came, replaced by something harder, something that had been there between you for far too long. “but you didn’t like me—you liked my brother.” you stiffened at the mention of his brother, memories flickering at the edge of your mind like shadows in the dark. “what’s your point, taehyung?”

he leaned back slightly, his gaze still locked on yours, unyielding. “you know well that if you break it off with me, they’ll find you someone else. the son of the jeguk group, or one of the twins from min’s hotel. what’s the point?”

the scoff escaped your lips before you could stop it, a sharp sound of disbelief. “i won’t accept anybody.”

he wiped his mouth with his napkin, the movement as controlled as everything he did, but you could sense the simmering frustration beneath the surface. he set the napkin down aggressively, the sound like a final punctuation in this conversation that was rapidly spiraling out of control. “you’ve always been spoiled.” he paused, as if considering whether to say more, then added, almost as an afterthought, “that, i will admit.”

the words hung in the air, a final insult that tipped the scales. you had heard enough. the frustration and the suffocating weight of expectations pressed down on you, and you knew staying here any longer would only solidify the chains you were desperately trying to break. without a word, you rose from your seat, grabbing your purse and coat in one fluid motion, your resolve hardening like ice.

the echo of your footsteps followed you as you walked out, the heavy silence left behind only punctuated by the faint rustle of taehyung’s exhale. you stepped into the cool night air, your eyes scanning for your chauffeur, the last tether to the life you were determined to leave behind. the night was silent, save for the distant hum of the city, and you felt a pang of something akin to relief as you neared the car. the engagement was an illusion you no longer cared to maintain, and taehyung, with all his calculated words and quiet power, was nothing but a ghost in the rearview mirror.

you climbed into the backseat, the soft leather beneath you a stark contrast to the tumult in your heart. as the car pulled away, the city lights blurred into a streak of colors, and you allowed yourself one final glance back. the restaurant, the engagement, and taehyung’s piercing gaze—each of them dissolved into the night, leaving only the road ahead.

the ride back to your complex was shrouded in silence, the weight of your conversation with taehyung still pressing heavily on your mind. the city passed by in a blur of lights and shadows, but your thoughts were elsewhere, turning over the words exchanged, the cold finality in his gaze, and the undeniable truth of the life you were desperately trying to escape.

when the car finally pulled up to the familiar building, you stepped out, the crisp night air doing little to clear the fog in your head. the doorman greeted you with a polite nod, and you returned it with a fleeting smile, your focus already drifting to what awaited you inside. the elevator ride was swift, the hum of the machinery barely registering in your consciousness as you stared at your reflection in the mirrored walls. there was something unfamiliar about the woman staring back at you, something cold, determined—a part of you that had been dormant for far too long.

as you entered the apartment, the soft glow of the living room lights met your eyes, the air thick with the scent of expensive wine. your mother was there, sitting on the velvet couch, her legs crossed elegantly as she sipped from a delicate crystal glass. she didn’t look up immediately, her attention seemingly absorbed in the dark liquid swirling within the glass.

“how was dinner with taehyung?” she asked, her voice as smooth and composed as ever, betraying no hint of concern or curiosity—just a formality, a question asked out of obligation.

you stood in the doorway, your hands still gripping the strap of your purse, the frustration from earlier resurfacing with a vengeance. “i want to break off the engagement,” you said, each word clipped, cold, and devoid of the warmth you knew she expected. she finally looked up, her gaze sharp, eyes narrowing slightly as they met yours. “why? did you two get into a fight?”

the question was laced with casual indifference, as if the idea of breaking off the engagement was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. but the flippancy in her tone, the way she dismissed your feelings as easily as one would a passing remark, ignited something within you—something fierce and uncontrollable.

you snapped, your voice rising despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “just because you can do it for the money, doesn’t mean i can. i won’t.”

her eyes hardened, and she turned her attention back to the wine, swirling it gently in her glass as if your words hadn’t just sliced through the delicate balance of civility that hung between you. “i’ve done everything to give you a good life,” she said, her tone laced with an almost clinical detachment. “you haven’t worked a day in your life.”

she paused, letting the words hang in the air, heavy with the implication that your existence had been one of ease and luxury, that you owed her something in return for the life she had so carefully curated. “you won’t ruin it—not now, and not ever.”

there was no point in arguing with her; you knew that much. the woman before you was a fortress of ice, impervious to any attempt at warmth or understanding. the realization hit you with a cold finality—this was not a battle you could win, at least not here and not now. so you turned in silence, your resolve firm, knowing you wouldn’t put up with this charade any longer.

as you made your way down the hall, the faint sound of your mother setting her glass on the table echoed behind you, but you didn’t stop, didn’t look back. your hand reached for the door to your room, but something made you pause, a feeling—a presence. the guest room door was closed, a subtle but significant detail that sent a pang of anxiety through you. you hadn’t noticed it before, hadn’t even considered the possibility that he might be there.

your heart pounded as you reached for the handle, the cold metal under your fingertips as you slowly pushed the door open. the room was dark, save for the sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the figure in the bed. seokjin was there, his chest rising and falling with the even rhythm of sleep, his features softened in the peaceful embrace of slumber.

your heart softened at the sight of him, the tension that had coiled within you slowly unwinding as you stepped closer, your eyes tracing the familiar lines of his face. there was a warmth in your chest, a certainty that had eluded you for so long—seokjin. the one person who understood you, who saw through the layers of pretense and expectation, who loved you for who you were, not for what you represented.

you stood there for a moment longer, watching the rise and fall of his chest, your heart swelling with a quiet determination. you needed to find a way to break free from taehyung, from the expectations that had been placed upon you since birth. for seokjin, and for yourself. the path ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges and risks, but for the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of hope. turning silently, you left the room, closing the door softly behind you, the decision made. you would find a way out. you had to.

the next morning dawned with a heavy stillness, the early light filtering through the windows as you made your way downstairs. the events of the previous night lingered in your mind, the conversation with your mother, the sight of seokjin asleep in the guest room, all swirling together in a mix of frustration and longing. you moved with the practiced grace of someone accustomed to hiding their emotions, but the tension in your shoulders gave you away.

the ride to school was quiet, the car gliding smoothly through the city streets, each passing building a blur of stone and glass. seokjin sat beside you, his presence as familiar as it was comforting, though the silence between you was laden with unspoken thoughts. you didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to break the fragile peace that hung in the air, so you kept your eyes trained on the window, watching the world pass by.

but he had other ideas. out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shift in his seat, his gaze turning toward you with a hint of mischief. “you always get shy on me after sleeping with me,” he remarked, his voice low, laced with a teasing edge.

your eyes widened at his words, the shock of them jolting you out of your reverie. you whipped your head around to check on the driver, your heart skipping a beat as you wondered if he had heard. your voice came out sharper than intended as you hissed, “keep it down, asshole.”

he chuckled softly, unbothered by your concern, and leaned back into his seat with that same easy confidence that seemed to follow him everywhere. “okay, sister,” he said, the word laced with irony that made you scoff in response.

you glared at him, the irritation bubbling just beneath the surface, but there was no real heat in it. he always had a way of getting under your skin, of pushing your buttons in a way that both infuriated and amused you. but before you could retort, he surprised you by turning serious, the teasing light in his eyes dimming as he observed you more closely.

“don’t look so down,” he said, his tone softer, more considerate than before. you hesitated, your expression shifting as you turned to face him fully, your curiosity piqued by the sudden change in his demeanor. “why not?” you asked, your voice tinged with a guarded hope you couldn’t quite suppress.

he paused, as if considering his words carefully, before finally speaking. “i found a way to nip your engagement in the bud.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words, a thrill of excitement sparking in your chest despite your best efforts to remain composed. but you were careful, your voice calm as you replied, “what did you have in mind?”

he shrugged nonchalantly, a casual gesture that belied the gravity of what he was about to say. leaning back further into the car seat, he crossed one leg over the other, his posture relaxed as he looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. “taehyung’s a man,” he began, his tone light but with an edge of something more. “you can’t forget that.”

his words left you confused, your brows knitting together as you tried to parse his meaning. but he let the silence stretch, allowing the tension to build before he continued. “he just has to get caught in the act.”

“caught in the act?” you echoed, the confusion clear in your voice. your mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of his plan, but you couldn’t quite grasp where he was leading. he didn’t elaborate, leaving you to wonder, to imagine the possibilities. there was a glimmer of a plan in his words, something you could almost see forming in the back of your mind, but it was still too vague, too undefined to latch onto fully. yet, the idea that there might be a way out, that he might have found a solution, was enough to keep your hope alive.

you didn’t press him further, sensing that he wanted to leave you with this kernel of information to ponder over. instead, you settled back into your seat, your mind swirling with thoughts and questions. the silence returned, but it was different now—charged with a sense of anticipation, a promise of something more. as the car continued its journey, the city outside seemed to fade into the background, your thoughts consumed by the plan that he had hinted at. there was so much you didn’t understand, so many pieces missing, but for the first time in a long while, you felt like there might be a way out of it.

the halls of the school buzzed with the usual morning chatter, but you were too absorbed in your thoughts to pay much attention. you stood by your locker, mechanically sorting through your books, trying to focus on the task at hand. the conversation with seokjin the same morning still played on a loop in your mind, each word he’d said etched into your memory, lingering like a half-formed dream. his vague plan had left you with more questions than answers, but a small spark of hope had been lit within you, a fragile thing you held onto tightly.

you slammed the locker door shut with a little more force than necessary, the metal clanging loudly in the otherwise quiet hallway. the sudden noise seemed to draw attention, and as you turned, you were met by a crowd of faces, all eager, all too close for comfort. the voices came at you in a rush, a cacophony of praise and congratulations that made your stomach turn.

“you’ve outdone yourself, (y/n)!”

“congrats—you’re the talk of the town!”

“your stocks are skyrocketing, it must feel good!”

“you’ve reached a new level of money now.”

their words washed over you like a cold wave, their faces blurring together as confusion gripped you. you stared at them, speechless, trying to make sense of what they were saying. the disjointed phrases clattered around in your mind, each one more bewildering than the last. stocks? money? outdone yourself? none of it made sense.

your eyes darted to one of the boys standing near the front of the crowd, a smug grin on his face as he held up his phone, clearly relishing in whatever had caused this sudden surge of attention. without thinking, you snatched the phone from his hand, your fingers trembling as you brought the screen closer, desperate to understand what had happened. and then you saw it.

your heart sank, a heavy, leaden feeling that pulled you down into a spiral of disbelief. there, in bold letters at the top of the screen, was a headline that made the ground beneath your feet shift and crumble—“esther (l/n) and kim hyunsoo's engagement confirmed.”

the words blurred before your eyes as you reread them, over and over, each time hoping they would change, that somehow, this was all a mistake. but they didn’t. they stayed the same, staring back at you with a cold, unyielding certainty. you could feel your pulse quicken, anger bubbling up from deep within, threatening to spill over. your mother. she had gone through with the publishing, had taken the reins of your life without so much as a word, steering you into a future you had desperately wanted to escape. and now, it was real, more real than any nightmare you could have imagined.

your hand shook as you shoved the phone back into the boy’s hand, the look on your face enough to silence any further congratulations he might have had planned. you didn’t bother to look back at the others, didn’t care about the whispers that followed you as you stormed off down the hallway. the world around you seemed to narrow, your vision tunneling as you focused on putting one foot in front of the other, each step fueled by the burning rage that had taken root in your chest.

you pushed through the crowd, ignoring the curious glances, the murmured questions. there was only one thought in your mind now—escape. you had to find a way out of this, no matter the cost. your mother had played her hand, but you weren’t about to fold so easily. not when everything you cared about was on the line. but even as you tried to cling to that resolve, the weight of the situation pressed down on you, threatening to crush the fragile hope you had nurtured.

the courtyard of the school stretched out before you, a tranquil space where students gathered in small groups or walked alone, lost in their thoughts. the late morning sun cast long shadows across the stone pathways, the gentle rustle of leaves providing a soothing backdrop to your racing mind. you walked slowly, your footsteps echoing softly against the cobblestones as you tried to make sense of the chaos that had been thrust upon you.

your mother had gone public with her engagement to seokjin’s father. it wasn’t just a problem—it was an impending disaster, a chain of events set in motion that you had no idea how to stop. the very thought of it made your chest tighten, your mind spiraling as you imagined the consequences. you had always known that your mother had a mind of steel, her ambitions driving her to secure the best future for herself, regardless of how you felt. but this was more than you could bear. seokjin, the one person who had always been there for you, would soon be bound to you in a way that made your love impossible. it felt like you were standing on the edge of a precipice, the ground crumbling beneath your feet.

your thoughts were disrupted by a voice, smooth and familiar, cutting through the haze of your worries. “i take it you’ve seen the news, sister.”

you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. seokjin’s voice, with its calm assurance, sent a shiver down your spine. you shook your head, a bitter smile tugging at your lips as you replied, “it’s all over.”

before you could gather yourself, you felt his presence behind you, the warmth of his body radiating through the air. to your surprise, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. his chin rested on your shoulder, the soft press of his cheek against yours sending your heart into a frantic rhythm.

you stiffened, a protest forming on your lips. “someone could see us,” you whispered, trying to ignore the way your body instinctively leaned into his touch. but his grip didn’t falter. “i don’t care,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, a contrast to the turmoil raging within you. “i just wanna be with you.”

his words, so simple and sincere, made something inside you crack. for a moment, you allowed yourself to savor the feeling, the safety and comfort of his arms, the way his breath tickled your neck. but reality crashed back down on you, the implications of your relationship too heavy to ignore.

you pulled free from his embrace, the loss of his warmth leaving you feeling cold. turning to face him, you searched his eyes, hoping to find some semblance of an answer there. “you think i don’t want that?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of everything unsaid. “even if i leave taehyung, you’ll still be my step-brother.”

he shook his head, his expression softening as he leaned down, his eyes locking with yours. “you have to learn to trust me,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination that both comforted and unsettled you. trust. The word lingered in the air between you, heavy with meaning. could you trust anyone in this world that seemed so hell-bent on controlling your life? you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. there was too much to say, too much to feel, and no way to express it all.

sensing your hesitation, seokjin filled in the silence. “wait for the party tonight,” he said, his tone laced with an unspoken promise. “and you’ll see.”

his words hung in the air, a thread of hope that you weren’t sure you could cling to. but the way he looked at you, the way he seemed so certain, made you want to believe him. he ruffled your hair with a smile, the gesture so familiar, so brotherly, yet tinged with something more. then, without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the courtyard, the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders.

the room was harshly lit, the heavy curtains drawn to keep out the afternoon sun. a silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken tension, as your mother sat at the edge of the long mahogany table, her hands folded under her chin. her posture was one of rigid composure, but the tightness in her jaw betrayed the turmoil simmering beneath the surface. beside her sat hyunsoo, his expression unreadable, a man who had mastered the art of concealing his thoughts. his presence dominated the room, his aura commanding even in the stillness.

a man in uniform stood at attention by their side, his back straight, his face set in a neutral mask. his hands were steady as he reached into his jacket, producing a thick stack of photographs. the slight crinkle of paper as he pulled them out was the only sound that broke the oppressive silence.

hyunsoo’s eyes flicked up, sharp and focused, as he addressed the man. “what do you have to show us?”

without a word, the man stepped forward and began laying the photographs on the table, spreading them out with the precision of someone used to handling sensitive information. the images, once hidden within the confines of the man’s jacket, were now exposed under the dim light. picture after picture, they filled the table, a damning array of moments captured in secret. your mother didn’t move at first, her eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond the table, beyond the room. but as the man continued to lay out the photographs, the urge to look became too strong. she turned her head, her gaze falling on the scattered images, and in that instant, the composed mask she had worn so carefully shattered.

it was all there, in vivid detail—moments of you and seokjin, moments meant to be private, meant to be yours alone. the two of you hugging, your arms wrapped around each other as if nothing else in the world mattered. kissing, your lips meeting his in a stolen moment of intimacy. holding hands, fingers intertwined in a way that spoke of a bond that ran deeper than mere affection. each photograph was a piece of evidence, proof of a love that was as undeniable as it was forbidden.

your mother’s breath caught in her throat, her face paling as she took it all in. she glanced at the images for only a moment before she turned her head away, shame and disbelief contorting her features. her hands trembled as she brought them to her face, her voice breaking as she whispered, “i can’t believe this,”

hyunsoo remained still, his body tense as he absorbed the full weight of what was in front of him. his expression hardened, the lines of his face set in a cold, unforgiving mask. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, controlled, but there was an unmistakable edge to it—a promise of what would come if this scandal ever saw the light of day.

“burn these,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “don’t let the public see them.”

the man nodded, his movements efficient as he began to collect the photographs, each one disappearing back into the stack. he moved with the brisk professionalism of someone who had been through it all before, who knew the stakes and the consequences of failure. within moments, the evidence was gone, tucked away once more, as if it had never been there at all.

your mother’s shoulders slumped, her body folding in on itself as she fought to regain her composure. but the damage was done, and she knew it. “this can’t happen,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud would make it less real, less dangerous. hyunsoo nodded, his gaze fixed on the table where the photographs had been moments before. his voice was as cold and unyielding as steel when he replied, “it won’t.”

but beneath the surface, the cold words masked the roiling sea of emotions—a mixture of anger, betrayal, and determination. in his world, image was everything, and any threat to that image had to be eliminated with ruthless efficiency. your mother, despite her shock and shame, understood that as well as he did. there was no room for mistakes, no room for weakness. what had been seen today could never be spoken of again, buried deep in the recesses of their minds along with the photographs now destined for the fire.

the light of your vanity mirror cast a warm glow across your bedroom, softening the sharp edges of your reflection. you stood before it, your gaze fixed on the image staring back at you. the dress your mother had chosen for tonight was a deep shade of red, the kind that caught the light and shimmered with every movement. it fit you perfectly, accentuating your figure in all the right places, the fabric clinging to your curves as if it had been made for you and you alone.

your hands moved with practiced ease, brushing through your hair, smoothing down the fabric, adjusting the delicate straps that rested on your shoulders. but no matter how perfect you looked on the outside, it couldn’t quiet the storm of anxiety brewing within. the night ahead was shrouded in uncertainty, each minute that passed bringing you closer to whatever seokjin had planned. the anticipation gnawed at you, but you kept it hidden beneath a calm, composed exterior.

a soft knock on the door interrupted your thoughts, and you barely had time to turn before your mother entered the room. she moved with the grace of someone who had spent her life perfecting every gesture, her presence commanding attention even in the quiet intimacy of your bedroom. her smile was warm, affectionate, the kind of smile that could easily be mistaken for love if you didn’t know better.

she came to stand beside you, her gaze meeting yours in the mirror. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled only by the faint sound of music drifting up from the party below. then, she reached out, her fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “you’re as beautiful as you’ve ever been,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of years of expectation, of hopes and dreams she had pinned on you.

you stayed quiet, your eyes still locked on your reflection. the words she had spoken didn’t settle in the way they once might have. Instead, they hung in the air, distant, almost hollow. you absorbed yourself in the mirror, studying the face that stared back at you—flawless, composed, every inch the perfect daughter she had molded you to be. but beneath it all, you felt a hollow ache, a deep-seated exhaustion from the constant performance.

your mother’s smile didn’t falter as she continued, her tone light, almost playful. “let’s hope taehyung will think so too.”

the mention of his name sent a ripple of tension through you, but you forced it down, your face remaining serene. you turned to her, forcing a smile that you knew she would accept without question. “he will,” you replied, your voice steady, betraying none of the turmoil within.

she nodded, seemingly satisfied with your response, before stepping back to admire you once more. “remember, tonight is important. everything we’ve worked for is coming together. you just need to play your part.” the words were meant to be reassuring, a reminder of the role you were expected to fulfill. but they only served to deepen the sense of unease that had settled in your chest. you nodded in response, giving her the answer she wanted, even as your mind drifted elsewhere.

seokjin had been explicit in his instructions: wait. do not enter the party for a good hour, he said, his voice calm and certain as always. he had insisted that taehyung would already be there, that everything would be in place by the time you made your entrance. the trap, whatever it was, would be ready then. you had no idea what he had planned, what steps he had taken to ensure that tonight would mark the beginning of the end for your engagement. but despite the uncertainty, you had agreed. there was no other choice.

as the minutes ticked by, you continued to prepare, each movement precise and deliberate. your mother eventually left the room, her parting words a reminder of the expectations she had placed on you. but as the door clicked shut behind her, you were left alone once more, the silence wrapping around you like a shroud.

you stared at your reflection, the image of a woman who was as beautiful as she had ever been, just as your mother had said. but there was no comfort in that beauty, no solace in the perfection of your appearance. it was a mask, a carefully constructed façade that you had worn for so long you sometimes forgot what lay beneath it. tonight, that mask would be tested. you didn’t know what the plan entailed, or how it would unfold, but you knew that it was your only chance to free yourself from the life that had been planned for you. the life you didn’t want. the life that had been built on false pretenses and expectations you could never truly fulfill.

you took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you reached for the final touch—a delicate necklace that sparkled in the light. as you fastened it around your neck, you caught your own gaze in the mirror once more. this time, you saw something different in your eyes—an edge of determination, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, tonight would be the night everything changed.

the party was in full swing by the time seokjin arrived, the air thick with the mingling scents of champagne and cologne. the grand hall was adorned with opulent decorations, shimmering lights casting a soft glow over the guests as they moved through the space, their laughter and chatter blending into a symphony of indulgence. seokjin made his way through the crowd with an air of casual confidence, a drink in hand, his posture relaxed yet alert. he was well aware of the expectations tonight, even if his role was more passive than proactive.

hyunsoo stood nearby, his gaze scanning the room with a sharpness that belied his calm exterior. he approached his son with a reserved nod. “behave yourself,” he said, his tone a mere whisper against the backdrop of the party’s noise. there was no mention of the photographs, no further elaboration—just the simple command and the weight of its implications. after delivering his message, he turned on his heel and made his way toward another corner of the room, where he would wait for your mother’s arrival.

seokjin watched him leave, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. he took a slow sip of his drink, savoring the taste as he scanned the room. his eyes were alert, his mind already shifting to the task at hand. the trap, he reminded himself, was set to unfold tonight. and then he saw it.

from the corner of his eye, a flicker of movement caught his attention. his face lit up with a sly grin as he took in the scene that was unfolding before him. taehyung played his expected role as the center of attention, surrounded by a group of admirers. it was no surprise—his popularity was a well-known fact, and the jealousy and envy he stirred among those he had left behind were palpable. seokjin’s gaze followed the group, noting the way the girls lingered around taehyung, their eyes filled with a mix of adoration and disdain for you.

two of the girls, their flirtations almost palpable, made their way toward taehyung with an eagerness that seokjin found amusing. he watched as taehyung, seemingly indifferent to their advances, wrapped his arms around their waists. the three of them moved through the crowd, their destination clear—one of the private rooms that had been set aside for more intimate encounters.

seokjin’s smirk widened into a full-blown grin, his eyes narrowing as he took out his phone. he snapped several photos of the scene, the camera capturing every detail of taehyung’s interaction with the two girls. the images were clear and explicit—him holding them close, their hands touching his, the unmistakable intimacy of the moment preserved in high resolution.

he wasn’t finished yet. seokjin knew the power of a well-placed scandal, the way a single image could ripple through society, spreading chaos and discontent. with a few taps, he made sure the photos were in the hands of those who could make the most of them. he texted one of his trusted friends, someone well-versed in the art of media manipulation. the message was concise, yet to the point: “photos of kim taehyung with two girls. get the best journalists and publishers. make sure these see the light of day.”

he hit send and watched with satisfaction as the message disappeared into the ether. the wheels were set in motion, the trap closing in on taehyung. all that was left now was to wait and watch as the carefully orchestrated plan began to unfold. as he took another sip of his drink, his gaze remained fixed on the private rooms. the night was far from over, and there was still much to be done. but for now, he allowed himself a moment of satisfaction.

the party enveloped you as you stepped into the grand hall, the muffled clamor of voices and the soft hum of music greeting you like a wave. instantly, you were surrounded, a whirlwind of faces eager to engage you. questions about your mother’s engagement poured in from all directions, a chorus of curiosity and congratulations that felt more like an invasion than a warm welcome. despite the flurry of attention, you maintained your composure, allowing your chauffer to push back the crowd and create a path through the sea of well-wishers.

your eyes scanned the room, seeking out the familiar face that would provide a semblance of calm amidst the chaos. there he was—seokjin, standing confidently by the bar, his presence a beacon of stability in the shifting tides of social interaction. as you drew closer, you allowed yourself a genuine smile, a rare and fleeting moment of relief.

his eyes met yours, and a grin spread across his face. “you look gorgeous,” he said, his voice a soothing contrast to the cacophony around you. then, with a playful glint in his eye, he added, “sorry, i shouldn’t say that about my sister.”

you scoffed, shaking your head as you approached him. “quite the comedian, aren’t you?”

he chuckled softly, a note of appreciation in his voice as he surveyed you. even amidst the tension, you couldn't deny how striking he looked, his tailored suit fitting him impeccably. but there was no time for pleasantries. you needed to know what he had planned, how the night was supposed to unfold.

he leaned closer, his expression shifting to one of mock seriousness. “don’t insult me just yet,” he said, his tone a mixture of amusement and anticipation. “the plan went through.”

curiosity sparked in your eyes as you asked, “what exactly was the plan?”

instead of answering directly, he pulled out his phone and opened his gallery, his fingers moving with practiced ease. he handed you the device, and as you glanced at the screen, your eyes widened at the images that greeted you. the photos were explicit—taehyung with the two girls, their interaction as intimate as it was public. the sight was enough to spark a mixture of relief and discomfort within you.

you should have felt elation, and part of you did. but the images stirred something deeper—a painful reminder of the far-reaching consequences of tonight’s plan. silently, you handed the phone back to seokjin, your emotions a swirl of complex feelings. he seemed to notice your subdued reaction and raised an eyebrow. “what’s wrong? i thought you’d be happy.”

you shook your head, trying to muster a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. “i am happy,” you assured him, though your voice betrayed a hint of the turmoil beneath. his gaze softened, his concern evident. he could tell that there was more to your reaction than you were letting on. “what’s bothering you?” he asked gently, his tone devoid of judgment.

the question caught you off guard, and you found yourself grappling with an emotion you hadn’t fully acknowledged. “why does it feel like i’m never enough for anyone?” you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

his eyebrows shot up in surprise. without a word, he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. his touch was firm but gentle, a deliberate gesture to convey the weight of his words. “someone could see us,” you protested, trying to pull away, but he held his ground.

“look at me,” he said firmly. “you’re more than enough. no one deserves to have you.”

his declaration was both comforting and startling. there was an intensity in his eyes that spoke volumes, a sincerity that reached through the layers of your self-doubt. after a moment, he let you go, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he did. “especially not that asshole,” he added, his voice laced with an unmistakable edge of disdain.

you scoffed, a mixture of frustration and resignation in your tone as you watched him order a drink for you. “it should be my step-brother, right?” you remarked, trying to inject a bit of levity into the conversation.

he shook his head with a smile, his eyes dancing with mischief. “you won’t have to worry about that either,” he said, his words trailing off into a promise he didn’t fully elaborate on.

the lack of details in his words left you, yet again, with more questions than answers. whatever seokjin had planned, it was clear that the night was far from over, and that the pieces were still in motion. the plan, though shrouded in mystery, had set into motion a series of events that would alter the course of your life. as you took a sip of the drink he had ordered, you allowed yourself a moment of reflection, even if it wasn’t going to last long.

the night had taken on a hazy quality, a swirl of lights and music that seemed to pulse with each beat. you had indulged in more drinks than you initially intended, a decision made in part to celebrate and in part to drown out the chaos of your thoughts. the alcohol had a way of loosening your inhibitions, allowing you to momentarily forget the weight of the life that had been predetermined for you.

seokjin, though equally affected by the night’s libations, kept a vigilant eye on you. his attempts to remain composed were challenged by the sight of you in your red dress, a garment that clung to your figure and accentuated your every move. the way you moved through the crowd, dancing with an abandon that spoke of a desperate need for freedom, left him both entranced and worried.

the dance floor was a mass of swaying bodies, the rhythm of the music a temporary refuge from your reality. for a few fleeting moments, as you lost yourself in the beat, the suffocating constraints of your life seemed to fade away. but the fleeting escape was short-lived. the crowd pressed in around you, and amidst the swirls of movement, you began to feel an unsettling touch on your hips.

you turned to confront the source of the unwanted attention, but the stranger’s face was a blur, the dim lighting and your own inebriation distorting your perception. the smirk on his lips, however, was unmistakable. his voice was a low purr in your ear. “who knew the fiancée was such a good dancer?”

you recoiled, telling him to get lost, but the command only seemed to encourage him. his hands were persistent, his touch increasingly insistent as he tried to pull you closer. panic rose within you as you struggled to break free, but before you could react further, a familiar presence intervened.

seokjin appeared out of nowhere, his face a mask of determination. he pulled you behind him with a protective gesture, his gaze locked on the intruder. the stranger’s look of confusion quickly turned into a grin of recognition. “hey, it’s the step-brother,” he said, amusement evident in his tone.

he stepped forward, his posture exuding authority. “the step-brother’s gonna kick your ass in three seconds,” he warned, his voice a low hiss.

the stranger raised his hands in defeat, a mix of irritation and relief crossing his face as he backed away. seokjin’s presence was enough to diffuse the situation, and the stranger retreated, disappearing into the crowd. turning to you, his expression was a blend of concern and frustration. “haven’t you had enough to drink?” he asked, his tone laced with an edge that cut through the alcohol-induced fog.

you pouted, a hint of defiance in your gaze. “i was just about to have some fun,” you replied, your words carrying a taunting undertone.

he leaned in, his face close to yours, his breath warm against your skin. his gaze was intense, his eyes searching yours with a familiarity that bordered on possessiveness. “are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice soft but commanding.

you felt the pull of his gaze, the way his proximity made it difficult to think clearly. he had always had a way of making you feel both vulnerable and cherished, a combination that left you questioning your own resolve. the tension between you was palpable, an unspoken understanding that you were deeply entwined with each other’s lives.

you looked up at him, a spark of mischief in your eyes. “what are you gonna do about it?” you asked, your voice carrying a blend of challenge and curiosity.

you weren’t really sure when exactly it all happened, as it all happened too fast for either of you to comprehend. the night unfolded in a blur, a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations that seemed to merge together. the pounding beat of the music faded as you and seokjin made your way back upstairs to your room, the path between the club and the secluded sanctuary of your space becoming an indistinct passage of movement and desire. his grip on you was steady, a constant reassurance amidst the swirling chaos of your intoxicated minds.

the door to your room slammed shut behind you, the sound a final punctuation in the disorienting sequence of events. In that moment, everything else seemed to fall away as his lips found yours, his touch igniting a fire that you had tried to suppress. the intensity of his kiss was matched by your own hunger, a desperate need that had been building throughout the night.

your hands were quick to explore, roaming over his chest as you fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. the fabric was a barrier that you were determined to remove, your fingers trembling with anticipation. his hands mirrored your urgency, sliding down your back and waist with a touch that was both possessive and tender as it cupped your flesh, tainted by the fabric of your dress.

he lowered his lips to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. the sensation of his kisses and gentle bites sent shivers down your spine. you couldn’t suppress the sounds that escaped you, a mixture of pleasure and longing that seemed to echo through the room. his teeth grazed your skin, and his voice, a low purr, was almost playful. “so needy,” he murmured, his words a tantalizing tease. “what happened to the girl who just wanted to have fun?”

you shook your head, trying to convey your need despite the haze of alcohol. your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate for the connection that only he could provide. “i don’t want anybody,” you whispered, your voice strained with emotion. “just want you.” the confession hung between you, a raw and vulnerable admission of your deepest desires. hia grip tightened as he pulled you closer, his lips continuing their journey across your skin. the world outside seemed to cease to exist, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of want and need.

his gaze remained locked on yours, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned closer. his tone, taunting and playful, pierced through the haze of your intoxication. “that’s too bad,” he said, the words carrying a mixture of challenge and desire. without breaking eye contact, he deftly pulled at the fabric of your dress, drawing it down from the front until it pooled at your feet, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. “’cause you’re gonna have to beg me.”

the suddenness of his action took you aback, a sharp intake of breath escaping your lips. you shook your head, trying to assert control. “that’s not gonna happen,” you said, your voice a blend of defiance and uncertainty. he didn’t relent. instead, he sank to his knees before you, his hands trailing along your skin as he planted kisses down your stomach. his lips were soft but insistent, moving slowly, deliberately. when he reached the hem of your panties, he paused, his breath warm against your sensitive skin as he grazed his teeth lightly along the edge.

his hands moved to your thighs, fingers caressing and stroking with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of the moment. “seems like i’ve spoiled you too much,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. he spread your thighs apart, his lips continuing their gentle assault with soft kisses, his words carrying a promise that was as tantalizing as it was elusive. “seems like i’m not gonna give you what you want.”

the weight of his words and the intensity of his touch were nearly overwhelming. you needed him desperately, and despite your earlier resolve, your pride melted away in the face of your desire. you swallowed hard, the lump in your throat a physical manifestation of your inner conflict. “please,” you managed to utter, your voice barely more than a whisper, but filled with a deep and earnest plea. “please take me.”

his eyes lit up at your submission, the smirk on his face morphing into a grin. “that’s more like it,” he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. with one swift motion, he hooked his fingers into your panties and pulled them down, leaving you completely exposed before him. the cool air of the room kissed your skin, heightening the anticipation. you stepped out of the fabric, your legs trembling slightly as you waited for his next move.

he didn’t keep you waiting long. he leaned in and placed a single, lingering kiss on your pussy, the contact sending an electric shock through your body. you gasped, your hands reflexively grabbing onto his shoulders for support as he parted your folds with his tongue. his mouth was hot and wet, the sensation of his tongue gliding over your clit making you moan loudly. he was thorough, savoring every inch of you as if you were the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

his hands cupped your ass, lifting you slightly to give him better access. the way he ate you out was like nothing you had ever experienced before. his tongue danced around your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you wild. your legs began to shake as the orgasm built, your nails digging into his shoulders. “yes, yes, please, just like that,” you panted, unable to form coherent thoughts beyond the need for more.

his mouth was relentless, his tongue swirling and flicking with a rhythm that had you on the edge of release. when he finally slid two fingers inside you, the sensation was almost too much to handle. you were soaking wet, your pussy eagerly welcoming the intrusion. the feel of his thick, bare cock pressing against your thigh made your core clench with want. “please, please, fuck me, seokjin,” you begged, your voice hoarse from the passion that was consuming you.

he chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through your body. “i was hoping you’d say that,” he murmured before standing up and wrapping his arms around you. he carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. as he positioned himself between your legs, you could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, the promise of what was to come making your heart race.

his hand reached down to stroke himself, the sight of him touching his own hardness making you wetter. “are you sure you can take it?” he asked, his voice thick with lust. “no condom, baby. gotta take it raw, let me fill you up, ruin your pussy.” the thought was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, but in that moment, you knew there was no going back. it wasn't the first time, but it always seemed like it was with him. each time he claimed you, it left you wanting him even more.

you nodded frantically, your voice a desperate whine. “yes, i’m sure. want all of you, jin. please, just fuck me,” with that, he aligned himself with your pussy and pushed inside you. there was a brief moment of pain, but there always was with seokjin. your body stretched to accommodate his size, but it quickly gave way to an overwhelming sensation of fullness. he was so deep, so big, it was like nothing you had ever felt before, even though he had filled you up more times than you were willing to admit.

his eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of hesitation. finding none, he began to move, his hips pumping into you with a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you moaning uncontrollably. your hands reached up to play with your tits, the sensation of your own touch mixed with the feeling of him inside you was indescribable.

you watched as he took you, his muscles tensing and relaxing with every thrust. his eyes were dark with desire, and his expression was one of pure, unbridled lust. he leaned down, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss as he picked up the pace, driving into you harder and faster. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a reminder of the raw passion that was consuming you both. his cock was thick and unyielding, stretching and filling you completely. every stroke hit a spot that had you seeing stars, a delicious friction that had you begging for more. your nails dug into his back, leaving trails of red against his tanned skin. “fuck, yes, yes, cum inside, please,” you moaned against his neck.

his response was a feral growl, his body moving with a primal urgency. your breath hitched as he reached down, taking one of your nipples between his teeth, tugging and rolling it as his hips pounded against yours. the pleasure was intense, a crescendo building in your core. “yes, yes, like that, just like that,” you whispered, your voice a breathless chant that seemed to fuel his movements.

his hand slid down your body, his thumb circling your clit in time with his thrusts. the pressure was exquisite, a delicate balance that had you teetering on the edge of oblivion. your hips bucked up to meet him, desperately seeking that final bit of friction that would send you spiraling over the edge. “you’re so wet, so tight,” he groaned, his voice strained with his own impending release. “gonna make me cum so hard, baby.”

his words spurred you on, your body responding to the need in his voice. your pussy clenched around him, tightening with every stroke. the pleasure was almost too much to handle, your orgasm building like a storm in your belly. “please, please, i’m gonna cum, jin,” you panted, your voice a desperate cry. with one final, deep thrust, he reached the spot that made your eyes roll back in your head, your body arching off the bed as the most intense orgasm of your life crashed over you.

his own release followed shortly after, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he filled you with his hot cum. the feeling of him coming inside you, with no barriers, was almost too much to bear. it was primal and carnally satisfying. you felt a sense of belonging that was unlike anything you had ever experienced. as he collapsed onto you, his weight a comforting warmth, you felt your body relax into the aftermath of pleasure. his breath was ragged in your ear, his heart pounding against your chest.

for a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. it was only the two of you, tangled together in a mess of sweat and passion. your heart raced as his cock softened within you, the warmth of his semen a stark reminder of the connection you had just shared. “love you so much,” he murmured, his voice still shaky with the aftershocks of pleasure. he kissed the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “love you too,” you whispered back, your voice filled with tenderness that mimicked your submission.

the room was quiet, save for the sound of your mingled breaths and the distant thump of the club's bass. the scent of sex lingered in the air, a heady reminder of the intensity of your encounter. as the world slowly began to seep back in, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret. it was dangerous, you knew. but as he held you close, the only thing that mattered was the feeling of him inside you, claiming you as his own, with no barriers between you. it was a feeling that was hard to walk away from, even if you knew you should.

you awoke to the quiet solitude of the room, a sense of disorientation lingering from the night before. the sheets were cool against your skin, unlike the heat you had experienced hours prior. seokjin was gone, and the absence of his warmth brought a peculiar relief, a momentary escape from the tangled emotions of the night. dressing quickly, you moved into the living room, the house seemingly holding its breath.

the scene that greeted you was one of subdued tension. your mother was seated in one of the armchairs, her face etched with fatigue. seokjin was sprawled on the couch, his expression guarded as he sat next to his father. across from them were taehyung and his mother, both visibly uneasy. you paused in the doorway, your heart racing as you asked, “what’s going on?”

your mother motioned for you to take a seat, her demeanor cool but authoritative. you complied, nodding politely at taehyung’s mother, who avoided your gaze, her eyes downcast. taehyung, too, couldn't bring himself to meet your eyes. the air was thick with unspoken words and suppressed tension.

with a sigh, your mother handed you her phone. the screen displayed a series of news articles and photos—images of taehyung with the two girls from last night, each photograph a vivid reminder of the scene seokjin had captured. the realization hit you hard, but you masked your emotions, forcing a shocked expression as you met seokjin’s gaze. he gave you a reassuring nod, a silent encouragement to maintain your facade.

taehyung’s expression was a complex mix of shame and frustration, but he kept his eyes averted. his mother, her voice trembling with both remorse and desperation, began to apologize profusely. “he wasn’t in his right mind,” she said, her words filled with a pleading undertone.

to your surprise, your mother took the initiative. “consider the engagement terminated,” she declared firmly. her tone left no room for negotiation. taehyung’s face momentarily flickered with a blend of disbelief and something you couldn’t quite place—regret, perhaps, or anger. his mother tried to salvage the situation, suggesting that they could work something out, but your mother was resolute.

“this is unacceptable,” she stated coldly, her gaze steady as she gestured toward your hand. understanding the gesture, you removed the engagement ring, the symbol of a future now lost, and handed it back to taehyung’s mother. your voice was steady as you offered a brief apology, “i’m sorry.”

his mother accepted the ring with a strained smile, but her eyes were filled with a cold, unforgiving disappointment. she turned to taehyung, her voice firm and cutting as she spoke, “you’ve always been a child.”

as they prepared to leave, the weight of the situation settled heavily upon you. the relief of the engagement being called off mingled with a deep, unsettling guilt. in the end, he was in the same situation as you. maybe he, too, wanted to experience the same things you did. maybe he wanted a life of his own, as his own person, rather than his mother’s puppet. he was more mature than you, more ready to accept a life he knew he didn’t deserve if it meant saving his company, his future. that was where your differences started.

your mother’s voice cut through the charged atmosphere, sharp and commanding. “we’re not finished,” she said, her gesture motioning for you to sit back down. you hesitated for a moment before complying, your pulse quickening as a fresh wave of unease washed over you.

hyunsoo, who had been silent until now, leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. “did you really think we wouldn’t find out?” he asked, his tone tinged with a cold edge. the panic you had been holding at bay surged forward, threatening to overwhelm the earlier relief. you and seokjin exchanged glances, your earlier connection now overshadowed by a deepening tension.

your mother’s expression hardened, her eyes narrowing as she addressed you with a piercing gaze. “where did i go wrong with you?” her voice carried a note of both disappointment and disbelief, each word landing like a blow. “never during the last eighteen years did i take you for a whore until now.”

the shock of her accusation hit you like a physical force, your face flushing with a mix of humiliation and anger. you struggled to find your voice, the weight of her words pressing down on you. seokjin interjected with a defensive edge to his voice. “it isn’t like that,” he said. “we’re in love with each other.”

hyunsoo scoffed, the sound laced with disdain. “love? you can love anyone you want, but not your step-sister.” his words were harsh, the finality in his tone making it clear that he considered this a non-negotiable boundary.

seokjin stood, facing his father with a steely determination. “or what?” he demanded, his posture rigid with defiance.

your mother’s gaze shifted back to you, her disappointment palpable. “you’ll stop with this,” she said, her voice cold. “if you think you can choose who you’ll love, choose. choose between the roof over your head, or him.” her words were a final ultimatum, her tone leaving no room for argument.

the room fell into a heavy silence. even hyunsoo seemed taken aback, his usual composure disrupted by the gravity of the situation. the tension was almost tangible, the air thick with unspoken emotions and fractured expectations.

you took a deep breath, feeling a rush of resolve. standing up, you gathered your wallet and phone, your movements deliberate and resolute. turning to your mother, you looked her in the eye, the weight of your decision clear in your expression. “i’m sorry i couldn’t be who you wanted me to be,” you said, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions within you.

without waiting for a response, you walked out of the room, your steps echoing in the silence that followed. the door closed behind you, leaving the fractured family dynamics and the unresolved tensions to linger in the air. the world outside seemed both distant and immediate as you left the comfort of the home you had been so used to. your mother’s decision was finalized, but so was yours. for the first time, you were given the opportunity to make your own decision. you just had to make peace with the consequences.

stepping out into the crisp night air, you found yourself enveloped in a profound silence. the complex loomed behind you, its imposing structure now a symbol of everything you were leaving behind. you looked around, the world suddenly vast and disorienting. the streetlights cast long shadows, the cityscape a blur of darkened shapes and distant lights. your mind raced as you grappled with your next steps, the weight of your mother’s ultimatum still fresh in your mind.

just as you began to gather your thoughts, a voice broke through the stillness. “are you out of your mind?”

the voice was familiar, filled with concern and a touch of frustration. you turned to see seokjin approaching, his features etched with worry. the sight of him, despite the tension, brought a semblance of solace. you scoffed, trying to mask the tremor in your voice. “my mind’s intact,” you replied, though the uncertainty you felt was evident. his eyes searched yours, a mix of confusion and something softer, almost tender.

“why would you do something like this?” he asked, his tone now laced with a deeper concern.

you took a breath, the enormity of the situation sinking in as you spoke. “i love you,” you said, the words coming out as a whisper but carrying the weight of your entire being.

his expression softened, and he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. his touch was gentle, yet it held an intensity that spoke volumes. “i love you too,” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly with emotion. he paused, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “but you can’t lose everything because of me.”

the sincerity in his voice was real, and you shook your head, the tears you’d been holding back threatening to spill. “you are my everything,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

his face contorted with guilt, his eyes reflecting a profound sense of regret. he felt it, the crushing weight of your sacrifice, and it was almost unbearable to witness. the guilt was written all over him, each line on his face a testament to his internal struggle. his shoulders slumped as if the burden of your actions was too heavy for him to bear alone. without another word, he pulled you into a tight embrace. you buried your head in his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart a comforting reminder that you weren’t alone. “i’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice muffled against your hair.

you pulled away slightly, looking up at him with a small, reassuring smile. “it’s okay,” you said, though the enormity of the situation was far from resolved.

as you turned to walk away, the uncertainty of where to go next hanging over you, seokjin called out. “what are you doing?”

you glanced back, your face reflecting your confusion. “i have to find a place to sleep,” you said, the reality of your situation sinking in with each step you took.

he scoffed, shaking his head as if the solution was obvious. “my dad’s hotel is in the other direction,” he said, gesturing vaguely.

the mention of the hotel caused a flicker of confusion to cross your face. before you could ask any further questions, he approached his motorcycle, patting the seat with a sense of urgency and determination. “come on,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “let’s go.”

your mother’s office was unlike its usual vibrant atmosphere. now, it was an echoing void, filled with the sharp clatter of keyboards and the occasional murmur of frustration. she worked through the night, her fingers numb from exhaustion as they flew over the keyboard, her eyes bloodshot and glazed over from the flickering screen.

the room was littered with sketches, fabric swatches, and design mock-ups. empty wine glasses, once filled with red, now lay on their sides, the remnants of her attempts to numb the persistent ache gnawing at her heart. her face was ashen, her usually impeccable appearance now marred by the fatigue of a woman who had pushed herself beyond her limits. the once-fashionable elegance of her attire had degenerated into a disheveled mess, her designer dress wrinkled and her carefully styled hair falling in loose tendrils around her face.

her assistant, a young woman who had been with her through many tumultuous seasons, approached with a hesitant look. “miss (l/n), the files for the upcoming line are ready. do you need anything else?” your mother’s gaze flickered with a detached weariness as she looked at the neatly stacked files. “no, thank you,” she replied, her voice hollow. “just leave them on my desk.”

as the assistant departed, your mother stared blankly at the piles of documents, her thoughts tangled in a web of regret and stubborn pride. she had spent her life crafting an image of control and success, yet now, that facade seemed to crumble under the weight of her choices. the culmination of a lifetime’s work felt like it was slipping through her fingers, and she couldn’t escape the bitter sting of her decisions.

with a final, resigned sigh, she gathered her things—files, notes, and remnants of her shattered resolve—before heading to the waiting chauffeur. the drive to hyunsoo’s hotel was spent in contemplative silence. the city’s lights flickered by the windows, a blur of bright, artificial stars that seemed to mock her inner turmoil. ypon arrival, she stepped out of the car and made her way to the hotel’s entrance. the lobby, as always, was pristine and welcoming, but her presence seemed to cast an air of melancholy. she approached the main desk, where a poised receptionist looked up from her work.

“good evening,” your mother said, forcing a thin smile. “i’m here to see hyunsoo. could you tell me where he is?” the receptionist’s smile was polite but distant. “mister kim is in his office. the elevator is to your left.”

your mother thanked her with a curt nod and headed towards the elevator. as she ascended, the weight of her decisions pressed heavily on her shoulders. each ding of the elevator seemed to echo her mounting dread. when the doors finally opened, she stepped out into the hallway, her footsteps echoing against the marble floor as she approached his office. the door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling out into the corridor. her hand trembled slightly as she pushed it open, the hinges creaking softly. the sight that greeted her made her blood run cold.

hyunsoo was seated behind his desk, his shirt discarded and his posture relaxed. a woman, half-naked and draped across his lap, was adjusting her clothes with hurried, frantic movements. the scene was awful and intimate, jarring unlike the cold, sterile environment of the office.

your mother’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the tableau. hyunsoo’s gaze met hers with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. “what are you doing here?” he demanded, his tone edged with irritation.

your mother’s lips parted in shock, her face blanching as she struggled to find her voice. “i should be asking you that,” she managed, her words barely above a whisper.

hyunsoo glanced at the woman, his expression a mix of indifference and mild embarrassment. the woman scrambled to dress, her movements hurried and clumsy as she slipped into her clothes and gathered her things. with a final, hasty glance, she exited the office, leaving behind a lingering tension in the air.

as the door closed behind her, hyunsoo’s gaze returned to your mother, his eyes cold and unyielding. “it’s just business,” he said, his voice devoid of any trace of apology.

your mother’s stomach churned, a wave of nausea rising within her. the sight of hyunsoo, so casual and dismissive in the face of her turmoil, was almost too much to bear. her heart pounded in her chest, the bitter realization of her own vulnerability and the reality of her situation crashing over her. with a shaky breath and a heavy heart, she turned on her heel and walked out of the office. each step felt like a leaden weight, the finality of her actions settling over her like a shroud. as she moved through the hotel lobby, she tried to compose herself, but the sting of betrayal and the crushing sense of loss left her feeling hollow and broken.

the room seokjin had rented in his father’s hotel was cozy, filled with the warm aroma of the dinner you were preparing. the kitchen was small, just big enough for the two of you, with sleek countertops and modern appliances that gleamed under the soft overhead lights. you stood by the stove, stirring the contents of a simmering pan, the rich scent of garlic and herbs wafting through the air. it was a simple meal, but one that brought a sense of normalcy.

seokjin lounged against the counter, his arms crossed as he watched you with a smirk playing on his lips. his gaze was warm, and there was a twinkle in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. “this truly is a sight to see,” he mused, his voice tinged with playful admiration. he paused for a moment, his smirk widening as he added, “my step-sister making me dinner.”

you couldn’t help but scoff at his teasing, raising the spatula in your hand as if in mock defense. “you need to stop calling me that,” you retorted, shaking your head with a smile.

he chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “you’re right,” he conceded, pushing himself off the counter. he crossed the small distance between you, his presence a comforting warmth at your back as he wrapped his arms around your waist. his voice softened as he murmured against your ear, “the love of my life making us dinner.”

his words sent a flush of warmth through you, your cheeks tinged with a rosy hue as you ducked your head slightly, trying to focus on the task at hand. but his proximity, the feel of his breath against your skin, made it hard to concentrate. when he planted a soft kiss on your forehead, you felt your heart swell with a mixture of affection and contentment.

as you continued to cook, the rhythmic motions of stirring and seasoning bringing a sense of calm, your phone rang, the sudden sound cutting through the peaceful atmosphere. without thinking, you asked him to answer for you, your hands too occupied to pick up the call.

he reached for your phone, his eyebrows knitting together as he glanced at the screen. “yes, doctor cha?” he answered, his voice steady, though you noticed a slight tension in his tone.

at the mention of your doctor’s name, your movements stilled. a flicker of unease crept into your chest, and you turned abruptly, your eyes searching seokjin’s face for any sign of what was wrong. he didn’t meet your gaze immediately, his attention focused on the call. “this is kim seokjin,” he said, his voice calm but edged with concern. “is everything okay?”

the silence that followed seemed to stretch on forever, the seconds ticking by in agonizing slowness. you could feel your pulse quickening, a knot of dread forming in the pit of your stomach. seokjin’s expression remained carefully controlled, but you could see the worry beginning to cloud his features.

finally, he spoke again, his voice quiet. “okay, we’ll be there soon.” he ended the call and slowly lowered the phone, his eyes meeting yours. the look on his face—part sadness, part anxiety—made your heart clench.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, though you weren’t sure you wanted to hear the answer.

he hesitated, his hand reaching out to take yours. “don’t panic,” he began, his thumb brushing reassuringly over your knuckles. he paused, searching for the right words before he finally said, “it’s your mother. she had a heart attack.”

the world seemed to tilt, the floor shifting beneath you as the weight of his words hit you. a heart attack. the phrase echoed in your mind, a sharp, cruel reminder of how fragile everything was. regret and panic surged through you in waves, crashing over the sense of security you had clung to. memories of your last encounter with her, the bitter words exchanged, flashed before your eyes, and the realization that you might lose her without the chance to make things right overwhelmed you.

“i have to see her,” you stammered, your voice shaking as the full force of the situation bore down on you. your mind raced, filled with a cacophony of thoughts—fear for her health, guilt for the things left unsaid, and the desperate need to be by her side.

“we will,” he assured you, his voice gentle but firm. he could see the turmoil in your eyes, the way your breath had quickened with rising panic. “i’m taking you to her, okay?”

you nodded, barely registering his words as he led you toward the door. the room, which had felt so safe and warm just moments before, now seemed stifling, the air heavy with the weight of impending loss. he grabbed his jacket and handed you yours, his movements quick and efficient, though you could see the strain in his eyes. as you left the room, the sounds of the hotel—distant chatter, the hum of the elevator—faded into the background, your focus solely on getting to your mother. the ride down to the parking lot was a blur, and before you knew it, you were standing beside his motorcycle. he handed you a helmet, his expression serious as he watched you fumble to put it on with trembling hands.

“take a deep breath,” he instructed softly, his hands steadying you as he adjusted the helmet’s strap. you nodded, doing as he said, though the breath you took was shaky and uneven. when he was satisfied that you were secure, he swung his leg over the motorcycle and waited for you to climb on behind him. you wrapped your arms around his waist, holding on tightly as he started the engine and the roar of the bike reverberated through your chest.

as he guided the motorcycle out of the parking lot and onto the road, the city lights blurred into streaks of color, the wind whipping past you as you sped toward the hospital. the ride was fast and tense, every second stretching into eternity as you clung to seokjin, your mind a swirl of fear, regret, and a desperate hope that you weren’t too late. you buried your face against his back, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over as the reality of the situation set in. the thought of losing your mother, of never having the chance to reconcile, gnawed at you with a ferocity that left you breathless.

his hand found yours, squeezing it reassuringly even as he kept his focus on the road ahead. “we’ll be there soon,” he promised, his voice barely audible over the rush of wind. and though his words were meant to comfort, they did little to quell the storm of emotions raging within you. all you could do was hold on and pray that you’d make it in time.

the hospital loomed large as you and seokjin arrived, its sterile white walls and harsh fluorescent lights a stark contrast to the darkening sky outside. the ride had been a blur of speed and anxiety, but now that you were here, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you rushed through the automatic doors, the scent of medicine and the low murmur of voices filling the air.

seokjin led the way to the reception desk, his grip on your hand firm and reassuring as he addressed the receptionist. “we got a call from doctor cha,” he said, his voice steady despite the worry that laced his tone. “we’re here to see esther (l/n).” the receptionist glanced up, her expression softening as she noticed the anxiety in your eyes. she nodded and quickly typed something into her computer before giving you both a set of directions. “room 321,” she said gently, pointing down the hall. “third floor, to the right.”

“thank you,” seokjin replied, already moving toward the elevators with you in tow. the elevator ride felt agonizingly slow, the seconds ticking by in tense silence. you couldn’t stop the thoughts from swirling in your mind—what if you were too late? what if something had happened while you were on your way here? the fear gnawed at you, making it hard to breathe.

when the elevator doors finally slid open, you bolted out, seokjin right beside you as you followed the signs to room 321. your footsteps echoed in the hallway, the sound amplifying the urgency you felt in every fiber of your being. as you neared the room, the door opened, and doctor cha stepped out, his expression calm but serious. “doctor,” seokjin greeted, his voice slightly breathless. “how is she?”

doctor cha gave a small, reassuring smile and stepped aside to allow you both into the room. “she had a heart attack, but she’s stable now,” he explained. “she’s going to recover quickly, but she’s not allowed any alcohol for the time being. it’s important that she takes it easy for a while.”

relief washed over you like a tidal wave as your eyes fell on your mother, lying in the hospital bed. her complexion was pale, and she looked tired, but her eyes were open, and they met yours with a softness you hadn’t seen in a long time. the tight knot of fear in your chest loosened, replaced by an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

“mom,” you breathed, your voice choked with emotion as you rushed to her side. for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you wrapped your arms around her, holding her close as if to reassure yourself that she was really there. she let out a weak laugh, her hand coming up to pat your back. “you haven’t hugged me like this since you were twelve,” she murmured, a touch of warmth in her voice that brought tears to your eyes.

you pulled back just enough to look at her, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over. “i’m so sorry,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat as you tried to convey everything you felt in that moment—regret, guilt, relief, and a deep, abiding love. she smiled softly and brushed away your tears with trembling fingers. “it’s okay, darling,” she said, her voice gentle. “i’m here. i’m okay.”

you nodded, though the lump in your throat made it hard to speak. “what happened?” you asked, needing to understand how everything had gone so wrong.

your mother’s smile faltered slightly, and she looked down at her hands. “i broke off the engagement,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

both you and seokjin were stunned, your minds racing to comprehend what she had just said. “what?” you asked, the disbelief clear in your voice. she shook her head, a shadow passing over her face as she avoided your gaze. “it doesn’t matter,” she murmured. “what matters is that i’m sorry. i’m so sorry for everything, for how i treated you.”

the apology took you by surprise, and you stared at her, the shock evident in your expression. “mom, i’m sorry too,” you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. “but i won’t stop seeing him.”

to your astonishment, she nodded, her eyes softening as she looked at you. “i don’t want you to,” she said simply, her words carrying a weight that left you momentarily speechless. you blinked, struggling to process her sudden change of heart. “what?” you whispered, the disbelief making your voice barely audible.

she turned to seokjin, offering him a small, sincere smile. “i’m sorry, jin,” she said, her voice filled with a quiet resignation. “just don’t take my daughter for granted.”

he met her gaze, his expression serious as he nodded. “i never planned to,” he assured her, his voice steady and sincere.

you couldn’t hold back the question that had been burning in your mind. “why?” you asked, your voice thick with emotion. “why the sudden change?”

your mother sighed, her gaze distant as she considered her words. “i got to live in your shoes for a while,” she admitted, her voice laced with regret. “but without you, and it wasn’t worth it.”

the admission broke something inside of you, and without thinking, you hugged her again, your arms wrapping around her as if to shield her from all the pain and regret that had led you both to this moment. “i love you, mom,” you whispered, the words heavy with the weight of everything you hadn’t said before.

she held you tightly, her hand smoothing over your hair. “i love you too, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. whe paused, then turned to seokjin with a faint smile. “a son-in-law is better than a stepson anyway.”

the words were so unexpected, so filled with acceptance and a sense of reconciliation, that they took your breath away. you pulled back slightly, looking at her with wide eyes, the shock still evident on your face. seokjin, too, seemed momentarily taken aback, but then a slow, relieved smile spread across his lips. he reached out, taking your hand in his, and squeezed it gently, a silent promise in his touch.

the room was quiet for a moment, the weight of everything that had happened settling over the three of you. but there was also a sense of peace, a feeling that seemed to promise that things could finally start to heal. you had seokjin by your side, and now, for the first time in a long time, you had your mother too.

✧.*

a/n: writing fluff is so weird ts be corny asl what could possibly be stopping me from ending the story with jackson wang shooting everyone

professor (교수님) — kim namjoon (김남준)

✧.* 18+

the classroom was a haven of knowledge, a place where the boundaries of your mind were pushed and expanded. every time you walked through those doors, you were met with an air of possibility, the faint scent of old books mingling with the fresh anticipation of discovery. all of the professors had ways of making the most complex concepts feel within reach, of turning abstract theories into tangible truths that you could almost hold in your hands.

they spoke with a quiet confidence, their words weaving intricate patterns that painted the vastness of the world before you. each lecture was a journey, guiding you through the twisting paths of philosophy, literature, and history. they had a gift for connecting seemingly unrelated ideas, showing you how the art of renaissance painters could influence modern technology, or how ancient philosophies could still hold relevance in the digital age. under their guidance, you realized that learning wasn’t just about absorbing information; it was about seeing the world through different lenses, understanding the interconnectivity of all things.

you delved into texts that explored the human condition, the nature of existence, and the purpose of life. you wrestled with questions that had no easy answers, questions that required you to look within yourself for understanding. it wasn’t just about gaining knowledge for the sake of it—it was about applying what you learned to your own life, using it as a tool to navigate the complexities of existence.

but among all the things you studied—science, art, history, language—there was one thing that stood out as the most important: the lessons you learned. these weren’t found in any textbook or taught in any lecture. they were the lessons life had already carved into your soul, shaped by your experiences, your failures, your triumphs. under your own guidance, you came to understand that the most valuable knowledge you could acquire wasn’t about facts or theories. it was about the wisdom you gained from living, from making mistakes, and most importantly, from learning from those mistakes. in the end, it wasn’t just the information you gathered that mattered, but how you used it to grow, to become better, and to understand the world and yourself more deeply. if only you had put those lessons learned to better use.

you hadn't been taught the lesson of love, not in the way you had learned about history or philosophy. love was never something you could study in a textbook or learn through the wisdom of others. it was a lesson you learned by living it, feeling it, enduring it. but you had always trusted too easily, believing that everyone who offered you a kind word or a gentle touch had your best interests at heart. it was a trait that made those around you frustrated, watching as you opened yourself up to hurt time and again. even you, in quieter moments of reflection, found yourself exasperated by your own naivety. but you couldn't help it; trusting others came as naturally to you as breathing.

so, it was no shock—no surprise, really—when you got your heart broken for the first time. you were in your early twenties, a time when many had already experienced their share of heartbreaks and fleeting romances. you, on the other hand, had waited. you had held out for something real, something lasting, thinking that by doing so, you could avoid the pain that others had endured. but love, as you learned, didn't work that way.

for two years, you were caught up in what you thought was a love that would last forever. you built your life around it, around him. you imagined a future where the two of you would wake up side by side, where you would make breakfast together in a sunlit kitchen, sharing quiet moments over coffee. you dreamed of nights spent stargazing, your fingers intertwined as you pointed out constellations, finding comfort in the steady light of the north star. your idea of forever was simple, yet profound: it was the promise of a shared life, of growing old together, of finding peace in each other's presence.

his idea of forever was something else entirely. it was a fleeting thing, something that could be found at the bottom of a bottle of vodka or in the anonymity of a cheap motel room. it was in the arms of whoever he could get his hands on first, someone who wasn’t you. the realization that he had been unfaithful—repeatedly, with over fourteen different girls—shattered the image of the life you had built in your mind. every girl was another crack in the foundation of your trust, another tear in the fabric of your heart. it wasn’t just the betrayal that hurt, but the way you had been so blind to it, so willing to believe that what you had was real.

you were devastated, to say the least. the pain wasn’t just emotional; it was physical, a deep ache that settled in your chest, radiating through your entire body. the nights were the hardest. you would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment of your relationship, trying to pinpoint where it had all gone wrong. you wanted to understand how the love you had given so freely could have been so thoroughly disregarded. but no matter how many times you turned it over in your mind, you couldn’t make sense of it.

the worst part was that you couldn’t even be angry with him. you wanted to be—to scream, to curse him for the way he had treated you—but all you felt was a hollow sadness. you were disappointed in him, but more so, you were disappointed in yourself. how could you have let this happen? how could you have been so foolish, so trusting? you had always prided yourself on being smart, on being able to see through people’s intentions, but when it came to him, you had been blind.

the nights following your heartbreak were long, seemingly endless. sleep was a distant stranger, slipping through your fingers every time you tried to grasp it. Instead, you spent those hours in late-night conversations with your friends, searching for solace in their words. their voices were a lifeline, pulling you from the depths of your despair, even if just for a little while. you talked about everything and nothing, dissecting the intricacies of your failed relationship, trying to find some sense of closure that always seemed just out of reach.

those talks were punctuated by silences filled with the quiet clicking of a lighter, the soft exhale of smoke as you shared a joint or two. the haze it brought was a welcome escape, a way to dull the sharp edges of your thoughts, to ease the relentless ache in your chest. it wasn’t a solution, but it was enough to get you through the night, to carry you to the next day. and on those days when the darkness seemed to press in too close, you relied on the small comforts you could control—a coin flipped to decide whether you would indulge in a few too many sweets or abstain from food altogether. it was a way of exerting some semblance of control over a life that felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp.

but after weeks of the same routine, you began to realize that you were merely existing, floating in a limbo of your own making. the conversations, the indulgences, the vices—they were all temporary fixes, distractions that couldn’t mask the hollow feeling that had settled in your chest. you were tired of it, tired of feeling like a shadow of yourself, tired of being weighed down by the remnants of a love that was never truly yours.

and so, one night, as you stared into the mirror, you made up your mind. you were going to step out of the bubble you had been living in, to let loose, if only for a single night. you reasoned that if he could spend two years indulging in every whim and desire, seemingly without consequence, then why couldn’t you do the same for just one night? why couldn’t you, for once, allow yourself the freedom to be someone else, to cast aside the constraints of who you were and embrace something—someone—new?

as you stood there, gazing at your reflection, you barely recognized the person staring back at you. your makeup was bold, the colors striking and uncharacteristic of your usual understated look. the dress you wore was scandalous, clinging to your curves in a way that made you feel both powerful and exposed. it was a look that screamed confidence, even if you didn’t fully feel it yet. but that was the point, wasn’t it? you were going to stop being you for just one night, just enough time to forget, to drown out the memories of a love that had never truly been yours.

you inhaled deeply, letting the air fill your lungs, steadying yourself for what was to come. Yyu weren’t sure what you were seeking—perhaps a fleeting connection, a momentary escape, someone who could make you forget all about him for a few hours. maybe you didn’t need to know. maybe it was enough to simply let nature take its course, to surrender to the night and whatever it might bring.

the club pulsed with a life of its own, the heavy bass thumping through the floor, reverberating in your chest as the neon lights cast erratic shadows across the crowd. bodies moved in sync with the music, a sea of motion and sound that made it easy to lose yourself if you let it. but your mind, despite the alcohol and the haze of smoke in the air, remained annoyingly sharp, focused on anything but the moment at hand.

you leaned closer to your friend, your voice slightly raised to be heard over the music. “did you hear about the new english and philosophy teacher? they’re replacing—”

ahe groaned, cutting you off with an exasperated look. “please,” she begged, placing a hand on your arm, “not tonight. can we just, for once, not talk about teachers or school or anything remotely responsible? we’re here to let loose, remember?”

you hesitated, the words dying on your lips. she wasn’t wrong. you were supposed to be here to escape, to forget, not to get caught up in the mundane details of your everyday life. but old habits died hard, and it was difficult to switch off the part of you that found comfort in routine and order, even when surrounded by chaos. still, you nodded, forcing a smile, and took a deep breath, letting the noise and the lights and the sheer energy of the place wash over you. “okay,” you said, more to yourself than to her. “okay, let’s do this.”

your friend grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she reached for the bottle on the table. the label was foreign, the name of the alcohol something you couldn’t even begin to pronounce. that should have been your first warning, but tonight was all about ignoring those little voices of caution in your head. she poured a shot for you, and then one for herself, the clear liquid shimmering under the lights. “bottoms up,” she said, lifting her glass.

you mirrored her action, the cool glass pressed against your lips as you downed the shot in one swift motion. the burn was immediate, searing down your throat and settling heavily in your stomach. it was unpleasant, but it was also a distraction, a welcome one at that. you had no intention of focusing on the men who watched you from across the room, their eyes lingering on your exposed skin as if you were some kind of display piece. it made your skin crawl, but you forced yourself to ignore it, to focus on the drinking instead. the coin had been flipped, and tonight, apparently, drinking it all away was your new diet. so you did just that. another shot, then another, until the sharp edges of your thoughts began to blur and the leering gazes of strangers became easier to dismiss.

but then, in the midst of it all, you saw him. he was standing at the edge of the crowd, partially obscured by the throng of people. you didn’t see much at first, just a tall figure with a presence that drew your eye. He was turned slightly away, talking to someone, but something about him caught your attention, held it. you found yourself staring, your curiosity piqued in a way that the alcohol couldn’t dull. and then he turned around.

your eyes met, and the world seemed to slow for a moment, the noise around you fading into the background. he was gorgeous, that was your first thought. his features were sharp, striking—high cheekbones, a jawline that could cut glass, and eyes that were dark and intense, holding a depth that made you feel as though he could see right through you. there was a sweet smile on his lips, but it was his eyes that captivated you. there was something almost menacing in them, a contrast that sent a shiver down your spine.

he didn’t look away, and neither did you. for a moment, it was as if the two of you were the only ones in the room, a silent understanding passing between you despite the fact that you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. but that didn’t matter. not tonight. before you could second-guess yourself, you did something you wouldn’t normally do. you flashed him a smile, one that you hoped was confident, maybe even a little alluring, and silently prayed that the universe would take your side for once. that, just this once, everything would fall into place.

you turned back around, the music vibrating through your body as you reached for another drink, your hand shaking slightly as you grasped the cool glass. you brought it to your lips and downed it in one go, the burn familiar by now, comforting in its own way. the alcohol was your crutch tonight, something to hold onto as you navigated this unfamiliar terrain of letting go, of not being yourself for just one night. you prayed silently, to whatever or whoever might be listening, that he would come over. that the universe, for once, would be kind. and as if in answer to your unspoken wish, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

you turned, heart racing, and there he was. the man from across the room, the one whose gaze had pulled you in and held you captive. his smile was easy, confident, the kind that could make anyone believe that the night might hold something special, something just for you. “mind if i buy you a drink?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, carrying easily over the noise. “or have you had enough already?”

you smiled, fighting the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all. fuck, not another drink or you might just convulse, you thought silently. but what you really said was, “you could keep me company, and i might make it worth your while.” he laughed, a sound that seemed to roll through you like the bass in the music, deep and warm. “i like that offer,” he said, as he took a seat next to you, his presence somehow making the world around you feel smaller, more intimate.

there was something about him, something that made you feel like the night was just beginning, like everything before this moment had been leading up to something. you looked at him, really looked at him, trying to decipher what it was that drew you to him, but all you could see were those eyes, that sharp jaw, the way he seemed to belong in a place like this, even if you didn’t. “what’s a guy like you doing alone in a place like this?” you asked, leaning in slightly, letting the alcohol loosen your tongue.

he shrugged, his expression casual, as if the answer didn’t matter much. “felt like it’d be nice for a change,” he replied, before his gaze slid back to you. “what about you?”

you sighed, the weight of the night settling on your shoulders. “i felt it’d be nice too,” you admitted, “but that feeling was dead wrong.” he laughed again, and the sound was a little sharper this time, a little more knowing. it made you pause, a sudden, unwelcome memory resurfacing—a project due tomorrow, something about socrates. you groaned inwardly, realizing how far you had strayed from your usual path, how this was so unlike you.

“a project,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him, the thought slipping out before you could stop it. he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “what about?”

“socrates,” you said with a hint of frustration. “i decided to do one on him, but it completely slipped my mind.” he scoffed lightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “poor choice, aristotle is much more influential.”

“okay, and?” you countered, a spark of your usual self peeking through. “socrates is the more seminal one.” his amusement deepened, his eyes studying you with renewed interest. “i can’t believe a smart thing like you is in a place like this.”

you frowned, the words not sitting well with you. they reminded you of everything you were trying to forget tonight, everything you didn’t want to be for just a few hours. “i don’t want to be a smart thing,” you said softly, almost to yourself. “not tonight.”

something in his expression shifted, softened, as he looked at you. he placed a hand on your thigh, the touch warm and steady, grounding you in a way that nothing else had that night. “are you sure you feel that way?” he asked gently, his voice low, the words carrying a weight you weren’t sure you could handle. you didn’t feel that way, not really. but tonight wasn’t about what you usually felt, or who you usually were. It was about letting go, about being someone else, if only for a little while. so you forced yourself to nod, even though a small voice in the back of your mind screamed that this wasn’t you, that this wasn’t right.

he seemed to sense your hesitation, but he didn’t push. instead, he simply said, “let me help you.” you opened your mouth to ask what he meant, but before you could, he was gently tugging your wrist, gesturing for you to follow him. your vision, blurred by the alcohol and the dim lighting, focused enough for you to see where he was leading you—to the back, to the private rooms. a sense of unease settled in your stomach, but you pushed it aside, telling yourself that this was what you wanted, what you needed.

you followed him, your heart pounding louder with each step. the corridor to the private rooms was dimly lit, the music a dull thrum in the background. as you walked, he glanced back at you, that same smile playing on his lips, the one that had stopped you in your tracks just minutes earlier. “i never got your name, sweetheart,” he said, his voice teasing, yet somehow sincere.

you gave him your name, “(y/n) (l/n),” the sound of it foreign in your own ears, as if it belonged to someone else. “and yours?” you asked, trying to hold onto the last vestiges of caution.

he turned to you fully then, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of mischief and something else, something darker. “namjoon,” he said, the name rolling off his tongue with a confidence that matched everything else about him. “kim namjoon.” and as he said it, you felt the world shift slightly, as if that name carried more weight than you could understand. but you were too far gone to care, too far gone to do anything but follow him, to see where this night might lead, to forget about everything else—your project, your heartbreak, your old self—and lose yourself in the unknown, if only for a few hours.

the private room was dimly lit, the shadows playing across the walls as you and namjoon stepped inside. the door clicked shut behind you, a sound that seemed to echo in the small space, followed by the unmistakable turn of a lock. it felt final, as if you were sealing yourself off from the rest of the world, from everything you knew, leaving only this moment, this man, and the uncertain promise of the night ahead.

you couldn’t help but watch him as he moved, your eyes tracing the strong lines of his body. the way his broad shoulders filled the space, how his black shirt clung to the muscles beneath, made your heart race. his hands, veiny and strong, were relaxed by his sides, but you couldn’t stop imagining them wrapped around you, feeling their strength and gentleness at once. and his eyes—god, his eyes—were the most mesmerizing of all. they were dark, intense, and held a dangerous kind of allure, like something that could either save you or ruin you, depending on how close you got.

a flicker of doubt wormed its way into your mind. you worried you might not be enough, not for someone like him. he was so composed, so sure of himself, and you—well, you were there trying to forget who you were, trying to become someone else for just a night. what if that wasn’t enough? what if you weren’t enough? namjoon must have sensed your unease because his gaze softened, the same easy smile spreading across his lips as he approached you. his steps were unhurried, confident, and with each one, the air between you seemed to thicken, heavy with anticipation.

when he reached you, he didn’t say anything at first. he simply cupped your cheek in his hand, his touch warm, and surprisingly gentle. his thumb stroked your skin, the soft caress sending a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, all you could do was stare up at him, lost in the darkness of his eyes. “you’re not afraid, sweetheart, are you?” he asked, his voice a low purr that sent another shiver through you. it was a voice that could coax secrets from you, a voice that promised things you weren’t sure you were ready for but found yourself wanting anyway.

was it fear that you were feeling? the heat coursing through your veins, the quickened beat of your heart, the way your skin seemed to burn where he touched you—was that fear? you didn’t know, and the uncertainty of it all made you nervous. but you shook your head, trying to convince yourself as much as him that you weren’t afraid.

he didn’t seem entirely convinced. he let out a soft, almost playful, tsk, his thumb still brushing against your cheek. “you should use your words, yeah?” he coaxed, his tone teasing, but there was an edge of seriousness beneath it, something that told you he wanted you to be sure, that he wanted you to choose this, to choose him. “i promise i’m not,” you managed to say, your voice softer than you intended, but steady enough. it felt like a small victory, a way to prove to yourself that you could do this, that you could be this version of yourself, if only for a night.

it seemed to be enough for him. namjoon’s smile widened, and the warmth in his eyes deepened, drawing you in even further. he leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away, to change your mind, but you didn’t. you couldn’t. you were caught, helpless under the spell he was weaving with every look, every touch. when his lips finally met yours, it was like the world stopped. the kiss was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment, tasting it, tasting you. his lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with a controlled kind of passion that left you breathless. he wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pushing for more, just kissing you like he had all the time in the world and was determined to spend it unraveling you, piece by piece.

you responded tentatively at first, unsure of how to match the intensity of his kiss. but he guided you, his free hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other. the heat between you flared, igniting something deep within you, something that made you press back against him, your lips parting slightly as you began to lose yourself in the feel of him. namjoon took the invitation, deepening the kiss as his tongue brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. it wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claiming, a way of marking this moment as something significant, something more than just a fleeting encounter in a club. you could feel the way he held you, firm yet gentle, as if he was trying to tell you something without words, trying to show you how he could make you forget everything, even if just for tonight.

your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping them as if they were the only thing keeping you grounded. his body was solid, reassuring, and the way he held you made you feel small, but in a good way, like you were being enveloped by something safe, something you could trust, even if only for these few stolen hours. he pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss, and rested his forehead against yours. his breath was warm against your lips, mingling with your own, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, breathing together, the air thick with the tension and the promise of what was to come.

“you sure about this?” he asked again, his voice a whisper in the small space between you. his eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt, any sign that you weren’t ready. but you were ready. or at least, you wanted to be. you nodded, your hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. it was calming in a way, a reminder that despite everything, despite the chaos in your own heart, there was something steady, something real, right in front of you. and so, with the taste of him still lingering on your lips, you whispered back, “i’m sure.”

his smile grew, and his hand slid down to the hem of your dress. with one swift tug, he pulled it over your head, revealing your bare skin to the cool air of the room. you felt exposed, vulnerable, but his gaze was like a warm blanket, wrapping around you, making you feel seen and desired. his eyes raked over you, pausing at your tits, your stomach, your hips, and you felt your cheeks flush with heat. he stepped back just enough to take you in, his gaze lingering on your lacy black bra, the one you’d picked out specifically for tonight, hoping it would be enough to catch his eye.

his hands went to his own shirt, and he began to unbutton it, one button at a time, his eyes never leaving yours. the anticipation was almost unbearable, the slow reveal of his chest, his abs, the v of his hips disappearing into his pants. when he was finally bare-chested, you couldn’t help but stare. he was beautiful, sculpted in a way that made your mouth water, and you felt a sudden urge to reach out, to trace every line and curve with your fingertips.

before you could act on the impulse, namjoon stepped closer again, his hand sliding up your back to unclasp your bra. it fell away, and your tits spilled into his waiting hands. his thumbs brushed over your nipples, and you gasped at the sensation, the pleasure shooting straight to your core. his eyes never left yours as he played with you, teasing you, watching as your breath grew shallower, as your eyes glazed over with lust. “you like that, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice a dark promise. and you nodded, unable to form coherent words as he continued to toy with your sensitive flesh, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, tugging gently until you were squirming against him.

his other hand slid down to your ass, squeezing it firmly, and he stepped closer, pressing his growing erection against your stomach. it was a clear message, one that sent a bolt of excitement through you, making you even wetter than you already were. without breaking eye contact, he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “you’re so fucking pretty. can’t wait to ruin you.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, and you nodded, your voice a breathless agreement.

his hand moved from your ass to the hem of your panties, and with a quick pull, they were pooled around your ankles, leaving you in absolutely nothing. he knelt down, kissing a trail from your belly button to one your hips, and you could feel the dampness seeping onto his fingers. his fingers slid down your legs, relishing in the fact that you were completely bare before him. his eyes took in the sight of you, and you could see the hunger in them, the desire that mirrored your own.

his hand slid up your thigh, his thumb brushing against your clit, making you jump. he chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers through your body. “you’re sensitive, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice a purr that made you want to melt into him. “yes,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “good, i like that in a woman.”

his hand slid away, and you felt a pang of loss, but it was quickly replaced by the pressure of his mouth on your pussy, his tongue sliding through your folds, tasting you. your legs trembled, and you had to hold onto his shoulders to keep from collapsing. his tongue was skilled, teasing and probing, making you gasp and moan with every stroke. you’d never felt anything like this before, never been this exposed, this wanton. and as he worked you over, you realized you didn’t care. all you cared about was the feel of his mouth on you, the way he was making you feel.

his tongue circled your clit, and you felt your orgasm building, a pressure that grew and grew until you couldn’t hold it back any longer. you cried out, your body shaking as you came, the sensation overwhelming you. namjoon didn’t stop, didn’t ease up, just kept licking and sucking until you were a trembling mess, your legs barely able to hold you up.

he stood, a smug smile on his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at his erection, straining against his pants. he noticed your gaze and chuckled, reaching down to free himself. “you want it?” he asked, stroking himself, and you nodded, your mouth dry with need. he led you to the bed, pushing you down gently. “spread your legs for me,” he said, his voice a command that sent a thrill through you. you did as he asked, your heart racing as he climbed on top of you. he positioned himself at your entrance, and without any preamble, pushed inside you. you gasped, the sensation of his size filling you up, stretching you in the most delicious way.

his thrusts were deep and deliberate, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars. you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your nails digging into his back. he groaned, the sound sending waves of pleasure through you. “you’re so tight, so wet,” he murmured, his breath hot in your ear. “feel so good around me, baby.”

his hand found your ass, and he began to spank you lightly, the sting melding with the pleasure, pushing you closer to the edge again. you moaned, your hips moving in sync with his, your body begging for more. “yes, like that,” you panted, and he complied, his hand coming down harder, the smack echoing in the room.

his movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in harsh pants against your neck. “you’re gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?” he growled, his teeth grazing your skin. “yes, yes, please, namjoon,” you whimpered, unable to hold back the words that spilled from your lips.

his hand moved to your clit, his thumb pressing down as he thrust into you. the pressure was too much, and you shattered, your body clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. he followed closely behind, his own orgasm ripping through him, his body taut with the effort to hold off until you reached yours.

as you both came down from the high, he collapsed on top of you, his weight feeling surprisingly comforting. you could feel his heart hammering against your chest, matching the beat of your own. he kissed your neck, his breathing still ragged, and whispered, “you’re mine for the night, remember that.” and as you lay there, his cock still inside you, you realized you didn’t want it any other way.

his kisses grew softer, more tender, as his hand slid up to cup your cheek. he pulled out slowly, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness, but before you could miss it too much, he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were straddling him. he was still hard, and the feeling of him between your thighs was enough to make you want more. “ride me, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

you didn’t need any more encouragement than that. you positioned yourself over him, your hands on his chest for balance as you began to slide up and down, his cock filling you with every movement. the sensation was different like this, the angle hitting you in new, delicious ways. you moaned, throwing your head back as you found a rhythm that made your toes curl. namjoon’s hands roamed your body, caressing your tits, your waist, your hips, guiding you, pushing you to go faster, to take him deeper.

his eyes never left yours, watching you with a hunger that made you feel powerful, like you could do anything. and as you moved above him, grinding down on his length, you realized that maybe you could. you felt alive in a way you hadn’t in a long time, free from the constraints of who you were outside of this room.

his thumb found your clit again, and he began to rub it in slow, deliberate circles. your eyes rolled back in your head, and you leaned down to kiss him, your movements growing erratic as you approached the edge once more. he swallowed your moans, his own hips bucking up to meet yours, pushing you closer and closer. you felt it building, the tension coiling in your belly, tightening around his cock. your muscles clenched, and you gripped his shoulders, your nails digging in as you came, your body shaking with the force of it. namjoon’s grip on your hips tightened, his own orgasm following quickly after, his cock pulsing inside you.

you collapsed against him, your breaths mingling, your bodies slick with sweat. his arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and for a moment, you just enjoyed the feeling of him, the way he filled you up in more ways than one. as you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of the night would bring. would it be more of this? or would it end with the club, a memory that you’d cherish forever? either way, you knew you’d never forget the way he’d made you feel—like you were the only thing that mattered, like you were the most important person in the world. and as you felt his heart beating in time with yours, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t need to be anyone else but yourself to be enough.

the pale light of dawn was beginning to filter through the cracks in the curtains when you stirred, the dim glow pulling you out of a deep, dreamless sleep. it took you a moment to remember where you were. the unfamiliar surroundings, the dimly lit room, and the soft, warm body lying next to you—everything came rushing back in a disorienting wave. the events of the night before flashed in your mind, and with them, the realization of what time it must be.

your heart began to race as the panic set in. morning classes. you had morning classes, and you weren’t in your bed, you weren’t even in your apartment—you were still here, in a private room that now felt too intimate, too close. you sat up carefully, trying not to disturb namjoon, who was still sleeping peacefully beside you. the sheets were tangled around you both, his hand resting on your thigh, his chest rising and falling with each slow, steady breath.

your gaze dropped to him, taking in the sight of his relaxed features, his slightly tousled hair, the way the early morning light played across his face. he looked almost boyish in his sleep, the sharpness in his eyes softened, his usually confident demeanor replaced by something more vulnerable. it was a sight that made your heart warm, despite the chaos swirling in your mind. for a moment, you hesitated. there was a strange comfort in being there with him, in the warmth of his presence and the softness of the bed beneath you. part of you wanted to stay, to curl back up against him, to let the world outside wait a little longer. but reality was a harsh companion, and the ticking clock in your mind reminded you that you had responsibilities, a life that didn’t include waking up in a stranger’s bed after a night of reckless abandon.

you gently lifted his hand off your thigh, sliding out of bed as quietly as you could. your feet touched the cool floor, sending a shiver up your spine as you quickly scanned the room for your clothes. they were scattered across the floor—your dress draped over a chair, your shoes lying haphazardly near the door, your bag tucked under the bed. as you gathered your things, you couldn’t help but steal a glance back at namjoon. he was still asleep, his breathing deep and even, one arm stretched out across the bed where you had just been. you paused, taking in the way he looked so at peace, a contrast to the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling.

you dressed quickly, your movements hurried but careful not to make too much noise. the dress, once sleek and form-fitting, now felt slightly wrinkled and askew as you slipped it back on. your fingers fumbled with the zipper, your mind too distracted by the thought of the morning ahead and the fact that you were nowhere near ready for it. just as you reached for your bag, you heard a rustling behind you. you froze, praying he wouldn’t wake up, but when you turned around, there he was—propped up on one elbow, his eyes half-open, still heavy with sleep, but focused on you.

“where are you going?” he asked, his voice rough and low, still laced with the remnants of sleep. the sound of it sent a small thrill through you, even as you tried to calm your racing heart. “i have morning classes,” you replied, your voice quiet, almost apologetic. you weren’t sure why you felt the need to apologize, but something about the situation—the intimacy of the moment, the fact that you were leaving so abruptly—made you feel like you owed him an explanation.

namjoon blinked, his gaze sharpening slightly as he processed your words. he sat up fully, the sheets pooling around his waist as he ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier. “you won’t even let me treat you to breakfast?” he asked, a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. you couldn’t help but smile back, though it was tinged with regret. “maybe another time,” you said, already moving toward the door. “but i really can’t be late for my classes.”

he watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he nodded. “i’ll see you around, then,” he said, his tone easy, but there was a note of something else in it, something that made your chest tighten slightly. you paused at the door, your hand on the handle, and turned back to him. “i had a good time,” you said, the words coming out softer than you intended, but they were true. despite everything, despite the way the morning had come too soon, you didn’t regret the night before.

he smiled again, that warm, disarming smile that had drawn you in from the start. “so did i.” with that, you slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind you. the corridor outside was empty, the muffled thump of music from the club below barely audible through the thick walls. you hurried down the hallway, your mind racing with a million thoughts—what you were going to say if anyone saw you, how you were going to explain the state you were in, and most importantly, how you were going to make it to class on time.

the drive back to your apartment was a blur, your hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly as you sped through the early morning streets. the city was still waking up, the sun just beginning to rise, casting a pale, golden light over everything. you barely noticed, too focused on the task at hand—getting home, getting dressed, and somehow making it to class without looking like you had just rolled out of someone else’s bed. when you finally pulled up to your apartment, you nearly tripped over your own feet in your haste to get inside. the keys fumbled in your hand, slipping once, twice, before you managed to unlock the door and rush inside. your apartment was quiet, the kind of stillness that comes with the early morning hours, and for a brief moment, you let yourself pause, leaning against the door as you caught your breath.

there was no time to waste. you darted into your bedroom, shedding your dress and tossing it onto the bed as you rifled through your closet for your uniform. the blouse was slightly wrinkled, the skirt a little too short for your liking, but there was no time to worry about that now. you yanked the blouse on, your fingers clumsy as they buttoned it up, tucking it into the skirt with a haste that left it slightly uneven, but you didn’t care. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you hurried to the bathroom, and winced. your makeup was a mess, the once-perfect red lipstick now faded to a nude smudge, your eyeliner smeared, leaving dark circles beneath your eyes that made you look more like a raccoon than the confident, put-together student you were supposed to be.

there was no time for a full fix, but you did what you could—wiping away the worst of the smudges with a makeup wipe, reapplying a thin layer of a lighter lpstick, and hoping that no one would look too closely. your hair was another matter entirely, tangled and wild from the night before, but a quick brush through had to suffice. with one last look in the mirror—satisfied that you were at least presentable—you grabbed your bag and bolted out the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you rushed to make it to class on time. you didn’t allow yourself to think about namjoon, about the way he had looked at you as you left, or the way his voice had lingered in your mind, soft and warm. there would be time for that later—maybe.

you made it to class just before the bell rang, your breath still a little uneven from the mad dash across campus. the relief that washed over you was short-lived, though, as you barely had time to compose yourself before you felt eyes on you. you caught soobin’s glance from the corner of your eye—he was the kind of friend who could read you like a book, even on your best days, and today was far from your best.

feigning being startled at your sudden appearance, soobin exaggeratedly flinched, his eyes widening in mock surprise before breaking into a smile. “well, well,” he drawled, his tone teasing, “i didn’t think you were gonna make it. i was about to call search and rescue.” you scowled at him, trying to ignore the way his smirk widened. but before you could retort, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “so, how much is a night?”

his words were laced with humor, but they hit too close to home. you glared at him, a retort already on your lips. “you couldn’t afford it,” you shot back, your tone sharp, but there was no real heat behind it. the truth was too raw, too close to the surface, and you weren’t in the mood to joke about it. as you settled into your seat between soobin and heewon, you could feel the tension beginning to ease—only slightly, though. the classroom was slowly filling up, students chatting idly as they waited for class to begin, but you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

heewon, who had been flipping through her notes, glanced up at you and immediately burst into laughter at the sight of your disheveled appearance. “god, you pull off the messy whore look really well,” she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “almost like hyuna.” you rolled your eyes, not in the mood for jokes. “not today, hee,” you muttered, reaching into your bag to pull out a small mirror. you avoided looking at her directly as you adjusted your hair, trying to tame the unruly strands that refused to cooperate.

your reflection was unkind, showing the toll the morning’s rush had taken on you—your blouse was still slightly untucked, your skirt wrinkled from where you’d hastily shoved it on, and your lipstick was more of a faint suggestion than an actual color. heewon didn’t miss a beat, though. “if i didn’t know you,” she continued, her voice light and teasing, “i’d say you actually had that one-night stand you were talking about.”

the words hung in the air, and you froze, your hand stilling mid-motion as you applied another layer of nude lipstick. your blood ran cold as you slowly turned to look at her, your expression a mask of forced nonchalance. but she wasn’t fooled—her eyes widened in realization, shock flooding her features as she stared at you. “no way,” she breathed, a little too loud for comfort. her eyes darted around the room, but most of the other students were too engrossed in their own conversations to notice. she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “with who?”

you slapped her arm lightly, more out of habit than actual reprimand, and opened your mouth to answer. but before you could get a word out, the door to the classroom creaked open. the sudden silence that fell over the room was deafening, everyone’s attention snapping to the front as the principal stepped inside. he was a tall, stern-looking man with graying hair and sharp eyes, the kind of person who commanded respect without having to say much. he cleared his throat, and the last of the murmurs died away as he addressed the class.

“i’m sure most of you are aware by now that mister im has decided to leave us,” the principal began, his voice measured and calm. “but i wanted to personally introduce you all to your new english and philosophy professor.” there was a pause as he turned to the door, gesturing for the man outside to step in. the classroom was so quiet that you could hear the faint rustle of papers, the shifting of feet—everyone waiting with bated breath for the new teacher to make his entrance. and then he stepped in.

the world seemed to slow down as your eyes locked onto the man walking through the door. everything else fell away—the murmurs of the students, the sound of the clock ticking on the wall, even the very breath in your lungs—all of it disappeared as your gaze fixed on him. it was him. the man you had spent the night with, the one whose name you had whispered in the dim light of the private room just hours before. and now, here he was, standing in front of you as your new professor.

namjoon—no, professor kim namjoon—mister kim? whatever he was going to be called from that point on, froze in his tracks, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. for a moment, he looked just as shocked as you felt, his gaze narrowing slightly as if trying to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. but there was no mistaking it—you were as real as they came, sitting there with wide eyes and a racing heart, just as he was standing there, trying to process the impossibility of the situation.

the principal, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air, turned to namjoon, his voice breaking the silence. “is everything okay?” namjoon blinked, snapping out of whatever thoughts had been running through his mind. he cleared his throat, his expression smoothing into something more composed, though you could see the faint tension in his jaw. “yes, everything’s fine,” he replied, his voice steady, but you could hear the slight edge to it, the barely perceptible waver that only someone who knew him—or had spent the night with him—might notice.

he turned back to the class, his gaze sweeping over the rows of students, but his eyes remained firmly on you as he introduced himself. “i’m professor kim namjoon,” he said, his voice carrying through the room with a quiet authority. “i’ll be your new english and philosophy instructor.” you were stunned into silence, your mind reeling as you tried to process what was happening. the man who had been a nameless stranger just hours before was now your professor, standing there in front of the entire class, his attention seemingly focused on you alone.

there was a brief moment where you thought you might faint, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a lead blanket. but then namjoon’s gaze softened, just slightly, and you saw something there—recognition, yes, but also something else. a flicker of concern, perhaps, or maybe just a shared understanding of the gravity of the situation. and then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the calm, composed demeanor of a professor addressing his class. he began speaking again, introducing the syllabus and his expectations for the course, but you barely heard a word of it. all you could focus on was the fact that your night of recklessness had followed you here, into the one place you had thought was safe, and there was no escaping it now.

as he continued to speak, you forced yourself to sit up straighter, to adopt the same mask of composure he had. but inside, you were anything but calm. your mind was racing, your thoughts tangled in a web of confusion and disbelief. heewon nudged you, her eyes wide as she glanced between you and namjoon, clearly sensing something was off but not daring to ask. soobin, for once, was silent, his usual teasing smirk replaced by a look of genuine concern.

but none of it mattered. not really. because as namjoon’s gaze flickered back to you, just for a moment, you knew that it was far from over. the connection you had felt the night before was still there, humming beneath the surface, and there was no telling where it might lead—or what it might cost you. the bell rang, signaling the start of class, but for you, it felt like the beginning of something else entirely.

namjoon had composed himself almost too well for someone who had just discovered an unexpected connection in his classroom. his voice was steady, professional, as he launched into the introduction of the day's topic—a deep dive into existential philosophy, a subject that would set the tone for the entire semester. his words flowed with an easy confidence, drawing the attention of the entire class, but your mind was a whirlwind, struggling to keep up with the reality of the situation. as he spoke, you found yourself stealing glances at him, trying to reconcile the man who stood before you now with the one you had been so intimately close to just hours ago. every time his eyes drifted toward you, your gaze would dart away, your heart beating too fast, too loud.

just as you were beginning to gather your thoughts, namjoon posed a question to the class, inviting anyone to share what they knew about existentialism. before you could react, heewon’s hand shot up beside you. “oh, (y/n) knows all about that,” she announced, her voice light with an undercurrent of mischief. she shot you a sideways glance, one eyebrow raised as if daring you to deny it.

you turned to face her, your eyes pleading, practically begging her to drop it. but she was never one to back down from a moment like this, especially when she sensed there was more to the story. your warning gaze seemed to only fuel her amusement. namjoon’s eyes flicked from heewon to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “is that so?” he asked, his tone carrying a playful edge that only you seemed to notice. “i figured you’d know it. you probably know most of the plan and program.”

his words hung in the air, the double meaning not lost on you. there was an almost imperceptible pause before he continued, his gaze locked onto yours. “why don’t you tell us what you know?” you swallowed hard, your mind racing to find an answer, any answer. but all you could think about was the night before—the way his voice had sounded in your ear, the warmth of his skin against yours. the memories clouded your thoughts, making it impossible to focus on the question he’d asked.

you opened your mouth, but no words came out. the silence stretched on, heavy and awkward, until soobin nudged you gently from the other side. his elbow digging into your ribs jolted you back to reality, and you forced yourself to speak. “sartre believed that existence precedes essence,” you began, your voice quieter than usual, barely above a whisper. “it means that we're born without purpose, and it’s our responsibility to give our lives meaning through our actions.”

namjoon’s smile widened, a look of approval crossing his face. “outstanding,” he said, his tone genuine, almost too warm. he paused for a moment, his gaze softening as he asked, “what’s your name?” the question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were silent again, unable to form a response. it was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, the classroom and the other students fading into the background. your mouth opened, but no sound came out, the weight of his gaze rendering you speechless.

another nudge from soobin brought you back to the present. you blinked, realizing that you had to respond. “it’s (y/n) (l/n),” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. namjoon nodded, a hint of something unreadable in his expression as he repeated your name, letting it linger in the air. “(y/n),” he said softly, almost like he was testing how it felt on his tongue. “thank you for sharing.”

you could feel heewon’s eyes on you, a mixture of curiosity and realization dawning on her face. she wasn’t a fool—she had seen the way you had reacted, the way namjoon had looked at you, and it didn’t take long for her to start putting the pieces together. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about what she thought, not when all you could focus on was him. he continued with the lecture, but you hardly heard a word of it. every time he turned back to the class, your gaze would drop to your desk, your heart thudding in your chest. the tension in the room was palpable, and you could tell that soobin and heewon were both aware of it, even if they didn’t fully understand why.

after what felt like an eternity, namjoon began handing out sheets of paper, instructing the class to spend the next fifteen minutes writing an essay on the topic he had introduced. you barely registered the words, your mind still caught up in the swirl of emotions from earlier. when he reached your desk, he paused, his movements slower, more deliberate. as he set the paper down in front of you, his hand brushed against your fingers, the contact brief but electric. you looked up at him, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. his eyes locked onto yours, and you saw something in them—a flicker of desire, maybe, or perhaps just a shared acknowledgment of the impossible situation you both found yourselves in.

he took his bottom lip between his teeth, a small, almost imperceptible gesture that sent a shiver down your spine. the air between you crackled with tension, so thick that you could almost taste it. namjoon didn’t miss the look in your eyes, nor did he miss the way your thighs clenched together involuntarily at the sight of him. his gaze dropped for just a second before he looked back at you, his expression unreadable but intense.

heewon and soobin exchanged a worried look, sensing that something was off but unsure of what to make of it. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. all that mattered was the man standing in front of you, the man who had somehow become both a stranger and something more in the span of just one night. namjoon lingered for a moment longer before moving on to the next student, but the heat of his touch stayed with you, lingering on your skin long after he had stepped away. you stared down at the blank sheet of paper in front of you, your mind a chaotic mess of thoughts and emotions, wondering how you were supposed to focus on anything else when the only thing you could think about was him.

you stared at the blank sheet of paper for what felt like forever, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. the memory of Namjoon’s touch lingered on your skin, his presence looming over you despite him moving on to the next student. every word you tried to write felt forced, disjointed, as if your mind was too occupied with the events of the night before to form a coherent sentence. but you pushed through, forcing yourself to focus, to string together an essay that would meet namjoon’s expectations—or at least not embarrass yourself in front of him. you could feel his eyes on you occasionally as he walked around the room, checking on the other students, and every time, it made your heart race and your fingers tremble.

finally, you managed to write something—an essay that was far from your best work, but at least it was done. the bell rang, its sharp sound jolting you out of your thoughts. you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, relief washing over you as namjoon dismissed the class with a curt nod. the scraping of chairs and the shuffling of feet filled the room as everyone stood up and turned in their papers. you gathered your things slowly, hoping to blend in with the crowd, to escape without another encounter with him. as you moved toward the front to turn in your essay, soobin and heewon caught your attention.

“we’ll wait outside for you,” soobin said, a smirk playing on his lips as if he knew something you didn’t. your eyes pleaded with him, silently begging him not to leave you alone in this classroom. but it was too late; they were already heading out the door, leaving you and namjoon as the last ones in the room. you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, but you kept your eyes down, refusing to meet it. you set your paper on his desk, trying to make a quick exit.

but just as you reached the door, his voice stopped you. “i didn’t know you went to college here.” you froze, every muscle in your body tensing at his words. you slowly turned around, forcing yourself to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. “i didn’t know you worked here,” you replied, your voice barely steady.

the silence that followed was thick with tension, the air heavy with everything that was left unsaid. you could see the conflict in his eyes, the same uncertainty that mirrored your own. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the situation pressing down on you both. then he cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the silence like a knife. his gaze hardened, the warmth from earlier replaced with something colder, more distant. “please only refer to me as your professor from now on,” he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, the finality of them sinking in. it felt like your heart was physically breaking, the pain sharp and immediate. you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. he paused, his eyes flickering with something unreadable before he continued. “pretend like anything we had didn’t happen, for our sake.”

you nodded, the motion stiff and mechanical, even as the nausea churned in your stomach. it felt like the ground was slipping out from under you, like you were free-falling and there was nothing to catch you. but you forced a small, tight-lipped smile, doing your best to hide the turmoil inside. “see you next period, professor kim,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. without waiting for a response, you turned and walked out of the room, your legs feeling like they were made of lead. every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his words pressing down on you. as you pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, the noise and bustle of the other students barely registered.

all you could think about was the way he had looked at you, the coldness in his eyes, and the realization that whatever connection you had felt the night before was now nothing but a distant memory. you could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the memory of his voice in your ear, but it all felt so far away now, like a dream that had ended too soon. heewon and soobin were waiting for you just outside the classroom, their expressions shifting from playful to concerned the moment they saw you. heewon opened her mouth to say something, but you shook your head, silently begging her not to ask. you couldn’t talk about it, not now—not when everything felt so raw, so real.

the day felt like a blur as you made your way through the bustling hallways, trying to shake off the weight of the morning’s events. you met up with soobin and heewon during your free period, desperate for some semblance of normalcy. the café in the student center was a welcome escape, its warm lighting and soft chatter offering a brief respite from the chaos in your mind. you slid into a booth with them, the leather seats creaking under the weight of your exhaustion. you barely registered the vibrant colors and bustling activity around you, too preoccupied with the events of the morning.

“so,” soobin said, leaning in with an inquisitive look. “what the hell happened between you and professor kim?” you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. with a heavy sigh, you began recounting the events of the previous night—everything from the club, the fleeting connection with namjoon, to the morning’s abrupt encounter in class. your friends listened in stunned silence, their eyes widening with each detail.

when you finished, soobin’s jaw dropped, his eyes darting between you and heewon. “i didn’t expect that,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. heewon, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with excitement. “you’re kidding me,” she said, her eyes shining with admiration. “he’s like, the hottest professor ever. you did good, really good.”

you managed a weak smile at her enthusiasm, feeling a twinge of warmth despite the tumult inside. as you looked around, your gaze fell upon namjoon again, this time surrounded by a swarm of female students. they clustered around him, offering water and engaging in casual conversation. his earlier gaze had been replaced by a smile that was charming but distant, his attention firmly on his admirers. “guess you aren’t his only fan,” soobin remarked dryly, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.

you turned back to your friends, trying to mask the tightness in your chest. “i don’t care,” you said, your voice carrying a trace of frustration. “i’m not allowed to care.” heewon placed a reassuring hand on your arm, her eyes softening with sympathy. “look on the bright side,” she said gently. “you got over your ex, if anything. and maybe, in some weird way, this is a chance to start fresh.”

her words were meant to be comforting, but they only served to remind you of the painful truth. the breakup with your ex had left you vulnerable and searching for validation, and namjoon’s presence had complicated everything in ways you hadn’t anticipated. but you nodded, appreciating her attempt to offer perspective. you managed a grateful smile, the gesture feeling heavy but sincere. as you sipped your coffee, the bitter taste seemed to mirror the complexity of your emotions. the conversation drifted, and you tried to focus on the mundane topics your friends brought up, but your thoughts kept returning to namjoon.

the next day unfolded with a disorienting sense of déjà vu, as if you were trapped in a cycle you couldn’t escape. the english period began with a heaviness in your chest, a reminder of the previous day’s awkward encounter with namjoon. his presence was now a constant, uncomfortable weight, and you braced yourself for another session of tense interactions. he entered the classroom, his authoritative stride commanding immediate attention. he took his place at the front, his gaze scanning the room with a sharpness that made your skin prickle. the air seemed charged with unspoken tension as he began his lesson, his voice smooth but carrying an edge.

throughout the class, it became increasingly clear that namjoon was deliberately targeting you. his questions were relentless, designed to probe and unsettle. his piercing eyes would lock onto you as he asked complex questions about the texts you’d studied. “so,” he said, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of challenge, “can you tell me how socrates’ concept of virtue contrasts with plato’s theory of forms?” you stumbled over your answer, your mind racing to piece together a coherent response. “um, socrates—he believed that virtue was a form of knowledge, right? and plato, well, he thought virtue was tied to the ideal forms?”

namjoon clicked his tongue disapprovingly, the sound echoing through the classroom. “not quite. socrates did indeed view virtue as a form of knowledge, but plato’s theory of forms goes beyond that, focusing on the ideal forms as the true reality of virtue.” the click of his tongue felt like a stinging reprimand, and you could feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. from behind, soobin offered a comforting wink, his eyes twinkling with mischief. you smiled back, grateful for his support, even if you didn’t fully understand his intentions.

as namjoon moved through the rows, he handed back the essays with a stoic expression. when he reached your table, he paused, his eyes scanning your paper. “you can do better,” he said, despite the high mark you’d received. his voice was flat, dismissive, and it stung more than the failing grade could have.

soobin leaned over as his eyes raked over the positive mark on your paper, a smirk playing on his lips. he whispered, “congratulations,” before wrapping his arms around your neck in a gesture that surprised you. he pressed a light kiss to your cheek, the touch warm and reassuring. “well done,” he added, his voice low and almost conspiratorial. you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in the brief moment of affection. it was partly for show, a subtle defiance in the face of namjoon’s scrutiny, but it felt genuine enough to offer a small comfort. as he pulled away, you couldn’t help but notice namjoon’s eyes flicking toward you, his expression unreadable but his demeanor tense.

the moment was shattered when soobin dropped his pencil, its clatter startlingly loud in the quiet classroom. he turned to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and said, “could you get that for me?” you nodded, bending over to retrieve the pencil. the motion was unavoidably revealing, your short skirt riding up just enough to provide a provocative view. you could feel namjoon’s gaze on you, intense and almost overwhelming. as you picked up the pencil, you glanced up to see soobin’s eyes fixed on you, his gaze deliberate and knowing.

you handed the pencil back to him, who responded with a smirk, “thank you, sweetheart.” namjoon’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he watched the interaction. his knuckles whitened around the stack of papers in his hand, the sheets crumpling under the pressure of his grip. the sight of soobin’s gaze on you seemed to inflame his irritation, and he struggled to maintain his composure. the tension broke when he suddenly snapped, “pop quiz.”

the sharpness of his command cut through the room, drawing startled gasps from the students. you looked back to see soobin’s smirk widening, a silent acknowledgment of the provocation. you couldn’t help but return his smirk, feeling a mix of amusement and defiance. as he began distributing the quiz papers, the atmosphere in the room shifted. the playful energy between you and soobin contrasted sharply with namjoon’s stern demeanor.

the bell's chime reverberated through the classroom, signaling the end of the period. as students shuffled to their feet, handing in their quizzes with murmurs of relief, you lingered behind, finalizing your answers and tapping the pencil against the paper. you were the last to submit your quiz once again, and as you made your way to the front, you glanced at the clock, calculating how much time you had before your next class.

with your quiz in hand, you approached namjoon's desk, determined to leave the room as quickly as possible. however, as you turned to head for the door, namjoon's voice stopped you in your tracks. “come here,” he commanded, his tone firm yet laden with an undercurrent of something else. your stomach tightened at the sound of his voice. “is everything okay, professor kim?” you asked, your voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety in your chest.

namjoon's posture stiffened, a subtle shift in his demeanor that you noticed immediately. he adjusted himself in his chair, spreading his legs slightly. as you met his gaze, your eyes flickered momentarily to the front of his pants. specifically, the painfully visible tent in his pants that had been rightfully covered by his desk. now, you were able to get a clear view of it and, fuck, was it obvious. the sight was unsettling, a realization that you forced yourself to ignore.

he leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race. “did you enjoy the show you put on today?” he asked, his voice low and carrying an edge of challenge. you struggled to maintain composure. “i have no idea what you're talking about,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady and focused. your gaze danced around the room, avoiding the direction of his gaze.

his expression hardened slightly. without breaking eye contact, he reached for a stapler on his desk and tossed it lightly in front of you. “pick it up for me,” he instructed, his tone carrying a hushed command. you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his command. his voice seemed to reverberate through you, causing an involuntary clenching in your thighs. you turned around and bent over to retrieve the stapler, your skirt rising above your hips with the motion. the fabric brushed against your legs as you reached for the stapler, the movement eliciting a sharp intake of breath from namjoon.

as you stood up and placed the stapler back on his desk, you tried to keep your gaze forward. namjoon’s eyes followed you, and you could sense the tension in the air thickening. “come here,” he murmured again, his voice softer but still carrying the same underlying authority. you hesitated, fighting the urge to defy him. but the knowledge that resistance was futile made you comply. you approached him, feeling his gaze on you as you moved closer. when you were within arm’s reach, he reached out and drew you gently into his lap, his grip firm yet careful.

you could feel it, the clothed tent in his pants pressing into the bare flesh of your thigh, it sent goosebumps all arouns your skin. his lips brushed against the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “are you happy knowing that the boys are getting off to this ass of yours?” he asked, his voice a dark purr against your skin. you tried to muster a response, a smirk curling on your lips as you said, “yeah, the boys are real nice to me.” the words felt hollow, a weak attempt to mask your discomfort.

namjoon chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck. his hand pressed against you, and you could feel the firmness of his body beneath you. “you don’t need them,” he said, his voice dropping to a deeper, more possessive tone. “you need a man.” your breath caught in your throat, the situation spiraling beyond your control.

his hand slid up to cup your breast, squeezing it gently through your shirt. the fabric was thin, offering no real barrier to his touch. your nipples tightened, and you gasped. “is this what you want?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the peak. “to be manhandled by some immature college boys?” his other hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling your face towards his. his lips captured yours in a bruising kiss, one that was as much about power as it was passion. your body responded instinctively, arching into him. his tongue pushed into your mouth, and you could taste the mint from his gum, a stark contrast to the earthy scent of his cologne.

his hand moved from your neck to the hem of your shirt, sliding it up to expose your bare skin. his teeth grazed your bottom lip before he pulled away, leaving you panting. “now, let’s see how wet you get when you’re being punished by your professor,” he said, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. before you could protest, his hand slid down to cup your sex through your panties, his fingers moving in slow circles. his touch was deliberate, almost cruel in its precision. the fabric of your panties was drenched, and you could feel the heat of your arousal spreading. “you’re so fucking dirty,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “gonna pay for teasing me like that.”

his hand withdrew, and before you could react, his palm connected with your ass in a sharp spank. the sting of pain shot through you, but instead of anger, you felt a pulse of desire. the room around you spun, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. “is that what you wanted?” he asked, his voice mocking. “to be used like this?”

you didn’t answer, but your silence was answer enough. namjoon chuckled again, his hand moving to your other cheek. this time, the spank was harder, and the sound echoed through the empty classroom. you gasped, your legs trembling, but your pussy clenched around his fingers. “yes, professor,” you murmured, the words slipping out despite your attempt to remain defiant.

his hand slid into your panties, his fingers pushing inside you without preamble. you were so wet, so ready, and his touch sent waves of pleasure through your body. his thumb circled your clit, and you moaned, unable to hold back. “that’s it,” he whispered, his voice low and encouraging. “tell me how much you like it when i spank you, and maybe i’ll let you cum on my dick.”

his other hand moved to the zipper of his pants, freeing his thick, hard cock. it sprang out, and you couldn’t help but stare at it, the size of it both terrifying and exhilarating. “you want this, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a gruff challenge. “you wanna be fucked by your professor, right here, where everyone can see?”

you nodded, unable to speak, your body betraying your every thought. namjoon leaned back in his chair, pulling you onto his desk. the cold wood was a shock against your skin, but the heat of his body washed over you as he stepped closer. his pants fell to the floor, and he positioned himself between your legs. “beg for it,” he demanded, his eyes boring into yours. your voice was shaky as you whispered, “please, professor kim, fuck me.” the words were barely out of your mouth when he pushed into you, filling you completely. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that made your vision swim. his hips began to move, a steady, punishing rhythm that had you gripping the edge of the desk for dear life.

each thrust was accompanied by a smack on your ass, the sting mixing with the ache in your pussy. “you’re mine,” he growled, his voice harsh with need. “no one else gets to see you like this, no one else gets to touch you like this.” his words were a blend of assertion and question, and you nodded, your eyes glazed with lust. your silence happened to be a grave mistake, and you realized it the minute he delivered another harsh slap to your ass.

“use your fucking words,” he snarled in your ear, hips pressed against your flesh. you could only whimper, his balls pressed against your soaking slit. but he didn't move, he was gonna make you work for it. “what happens to bad girls?” you gritted your teeth and forced out a whisper, “they get punished, professor kim.”

his hand squeezed your ass hard before delivering another spank, the sting turning into a warm buzz that spread through your body. he chuckled darkly, pleased with your response. “that’s right,” he said, his voice gruff and animalistic. “and what happens when bad girls get punished?” you took a deep breath, trying to keep the tremble from your voice. “they get fucked, professor kim.”

that was all the encouragement he needed. namjoon’s cock slammed into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin punctuating the silence of the classroom. he fucked you hard and fast, his hips pistoning against you with a ferocity that was both terrifying and exhilarating. your legs were shaking, and your knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the desk, but you didn’t care. you were lost in the feeling of him inside you, claiming you in a way that no one else ever had.

his hand moved from your ass to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it in a grip that was tight but not painful. he squeezed slightly, the pressure sending a jolt of arousal through you. his eyes bore into yours, and you could see the hunger in them, the need to dominate and control. “you’re mine, aren’t you?” he said, his voice a low growl.

you nodded, unable to form words. your breath was coming in ragged gasps, and your pussy was clenching around his cock, begging for release. another spank, another squeeze of your neck, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of climax. “say it,” he demanded, his voice harsh. “say you’re mine, and i’ll let you cum.”

“i’m yours, professor kim,” you choked out, the words a desperate plea.

his grip tightened, and he slammed into you one last time, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you. you screamed as you came, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. namjoon’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mix of triumph and possessiveness. he waited, letting you ride out the waves of pleasure before he began to move again, his thrusts growing faster and more erratic. you could feel his release building, his cock swelling inside you. he was close, and the thought of him filling you up with his cum made your pussy clench even tighter. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted, his voice strained. “i’m gonna fill you up, fuck. i’m gonna mark you as mine.”

you could feel your own orgasm building again, a second wave crashing into you as his words sent a fresh surge of arousal through your body. he leaned over, his teeth scraping along your neck as he reached down to pinch your clit. the combination of pain and pleasure was too much, and you came again, your body shaking violently. he grunted, his hips jerking as he released deep inside you. he held you there, his cock buried to the hilt, his grip on your neck unyielding. “you’re mine now,” he murmured, his voice a mix of satisfaction and possession. “no one else will ever make you feel like this again.”

you couldn’t argue with him, not when his cum was still pulsing inside you, not when his scent was all over your body. you were his, and as much as you hated to admit it, the thought thrilled you. his hand moved from your neck to your hair, his grip gentle as he pulled you closer, kissing you deeply. his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting the remnants of your orgasm, and you kissed him back with a passion that matched his own.

the room was spinning, and your heart was racing, but all you could think about was how much you wanted this to never end. how much you wanted to be claimed by him, over and over again. finally, he pulled away, his cock slipping out of you with a wet sound that seemed to echo through the room. he tucked himself back into his pants, his expression unreadable. “now, get out of here before someone sees you like this,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper.

you nodded, your legs unsteady as you slid off the desk. your panties were a ruined mess, so you left them where they lay. your skirt was hiked up around your waist, and your shirt was askew, but you didn’t bother to fix it. you could feel his cum dripping down your thighs, a sticky reminder of what had just happened. you stumbled out of the classroom, the door clicking shut behind you. the hallway was empty, the only sound the echo of your heels against the tiles. your mind was racing, trying to process the intensity of what had just occurred. you hadn’t meant for it to go that far, but the power dynamics had overtaken you both.

as you made your way to the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, his hand on your neck, his cock inside you. your body was still singing with the aftershocks of pleasure, and the sting of his spanks lingered, a sweet reminder of his dominance. once inside the stall, you leaned against the cool metal, trying to catch your breath. your pussy was sore, but the ache was a delicious one, a reminder of his brutal possession. you cleaned up as best as you could, trying to erase the evidence of your transgression. when you stepped out, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

you checked the mirror, fixing your makeup and smoothing your hair. your eyes were wild, your cheeks flushed. you really looked like you’d just been fucked by your professor, and that thought alone sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. you left the bathroom, heading to your next class, your mind racing with thoughts of namjoon. what had just happened between you? was it a one-time thing, or was this the start of something darker, something more intense? you couldn’t stop thinking about him, his voice, his touch, his cock. the way he’d claimed you, the way you’d begged for it. it was wrong, so wrong, but you craved it.

the rest of the day was a blur, your thoughts consumed by the illicit encounter. when you saw him in the hallways, his eyes would briefly meet yours, a smoldering heat passing between you that no one else could see. the tension was palpable, a silent promise of more to come. by the time you reached the evening, you were on edge, desperate for a release that only he could provide. you knew you had to see him again, to find out where this was going, to let him take you apart and put you back together in whatever twisted way he saw fit.

the next day, namjoon was crueler than ever. the moment you walked into the classroom, you felt the shift in his demeanor, an icy coldness that sent a shiver down your spine. his eyes seemed to follow your every move, sharp and unforgiving, as if waiting for you to slip up.

“miss (l/n),” he drawled, barely five minutes into the lecture, “do you even know what the word ‘competence’ means? because, frankly, i’m starting to doubt it.” his words were laced with venom, each syllable landing like a physical blow. you felt your heart sink, the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck as all eyes turned to you. your mouth opened to respond, but the words caught in your throat, your voice betraying you in the moment you needed it most.

“answer me,” he demanded, his tone brooking no argument. “i do,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, but it was clear that your confidence had shattered.

he scoffed, a cold, mocking sound that made you flinch. “then perhaps you should start showing it. this is a university, not a daycare. i expect more from my students.” the classroom was silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. you could feel the stares of your classmates, could hear the unspoken judgment in the air, and it made your stomach churn. namjoon’s relentless criticism continued throughout the class, his every word designed to tear you down, to make you feel small and insignificant.

“is that really the best you can do?” he sneered at one point, after you had answered another one of his questions with trembling uncertainty. his eyes narrowed, and you could see the disdain written all over his face. “how disappointing.” your patience was wearing thin, the fragile hold you had on your emotions slipping with each cruel remark. you wanted to scream, to tell him to stop, to ask him why he was being so unbearably harsh. but you couldn’t. the words refused to come, lodged in your throat like a stone.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the class drew to a close. as soon as namjoon dismissed everyone, you gathered your things and bolted from the room, your vision blurred with unshed tears. you could hear the murmur of voices behind you, the curious whispers of your classmates, but you didn’t care. all you wanted was to get away. you didn’t stop until you reached the empty locker room, the door slamming shut behind you with a deafening echo. the second you were alone, the tears you had been holding back spilled over, your body shaking with the force of your sobs.

“how could he be so bipolar?” you choked out between gasping breaths, your voice thick with hurt and confusion. it was as if he had two completely different personalities, one moment kind and almost gentle, the next vicious and unrelenting. it was too much. the sound of approaching footsteps cut through your thoughts, startling you. you quickly wiped at your eyes, trying in vain to compose yourself, but it was too late. the door creaked open, and soobin stepped inside, his expression filled with concern as he saw you huddled on the floor.

“(y/n)?” he called softly, his voice laced with worry. without waiting for an answer, he hurried over to you, crouching down by your side. “what happened? why are you crying?” you tried to speak, but all that came out was a broken sob. soobin’s face softened, and he reached out to pull you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting.

“it’s okay,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back in soothing circles. “it’s gonna be okay. just breathe.” for a moment, you let yourself melt into his embrace, the warmth of his arms and the softness of his voice soothing your frazzled nerves. but eventually, you pulled back enough to look up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying.

“it’s namjoon, you saw it,” you finally managed to say, your voice trembling. “he’s just, he’s being so awful, and i don’t understand why.” soobin’s expression darkened at the mention of namjoon, his jaw clenching slightly, but he quickly masked it with a soft, reassuring smile. “he’s being an ass,” he agreed, his voice firm with conviction. “you don’t deserve that, you need to stop running to him.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, and you nodded, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “you’re right,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “but i don’t know how to stop.” his gaze softened, and he reached up to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face, his touch tender. “you’ll figure it out,” he said quietly, his tone full of quiet confidence. “and until you do, i’ll be here for you.”

a small, shaky smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the warmth of his words seeping into the cracks that namjoon’s cruelty had left behind. “thank you, soo,” you whispered, your voice thick with gratitude. for a moment, the two of you just sat there, lost in each other’s eyes. then, before you could fully process what was happening, he leaned in and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to your lips.

it was so quick, so unexpected, that you barely had time to react before he was pulling back, his eyes wide with panic. “i’m so sorry,” he stammered, his voice filled with regret. “i didn’t mean to—” but you didn’t let him finish. you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, and kissed him back. this time, it was slower, deeper, a silent reassurance that he hadn’t made a mistake. when you finally pulled away, you could see the relief in soobin’s eyes, and it made your heart swell with affection. “you didn’t make a mistake,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but filled with sincerity.

soobin searched your eyes for a moment, looking for confirmation, before his arms tightened around you. the kiss grew more urgent, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting of mint and something uniquely him. your hands roamed over his back, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, and you moaned softly, the heat between you growing with every passing second. the locker room was suddenly too small, too confining, and you needed more.

without breaking the kiss, you reached down and began to unbutton his shirt, feeling the smooth fabric give way beneath your trembling fingers. his hands mirrored yours, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin of your stomach, sending shivers down your spine. as his shirt fell open, you gasped, taking in the sight of his broad chest, the tattoos that danced across his skin like secrets waiting to be uncovered. you ran your fingers over the ink, tracing the lines as you explored him, and he groaned, his hands finding their way to the hem of your shirt.

you pulled back just long enough to let him lift it over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought. your bra followed shortly after, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of your exposed breasts. without a word, he leaned down and captured one in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as you arched your back, a gasp escaping your lips. the pleasure was intense, a stark contrast to the pain namjoon’s words had brought you just moments ago. soobin’s touch was gentle, reverent, a stark reminder of the way you deserved to be treated.

his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples as he sucked and bit at them, making you whimper. you could feel yourself growing wetter, the ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable. he must have noticed too, because his hand began to drift lower, slipping under your little skirt and finding your panties already drenched for him. you moaned into his mouth, your legs parting slightly to give him better access.

his fingers slid over the fabric, teasing you, making you squirm with need. then, with a wicked grin, he pulled them aside and plunged two fingers into you, making you gasp. his strokes were slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your reactions, learning what made you moan, what made your eyes roll back in pleasure. you clung to him, your nails digging into his back as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

his other hand reached up to cradle your face, his thumb wiping away the tears that had dried on your cheeks. “you’re so beautiful, (y/n),” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent waves of pleasure through your body. “so perfect, so responsive. i want to make you feel good, really good.” and with that, he kissed you again, his tongue delving deep as his fingers picked up the pace, filling you up and stroking that spot inside you that no one else seemed to know existed.

you could feel yourself getting closer, your breath hitching in your chest, your body tightening around his fingers. “soobin,” you moaned, his name a desperate plea on your lips. “yes, baby, come for me,” he whispered, his voice full of desire, and with that, you shattered. your orgasm hit you like a wave, leaving you trembling and gasping for air, your legs giving out beneath you. he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he held you up, his kisses turning gentle and soothing.

as you came down from the high, you became aware of the sound of the locker room door opening and closing, the muffled sounds of someone walking down the hall. soobin’s eyes widened in panic, his hand still buried in your panties, his fingers coated in your arousal. “shit, we can’t get caught,” he hissed, pulling away and hastily buttoning his shirt. you nodded, fumbling to put yourself back together, your heart racing.

you looked around, your eyes landing on a shower stall in the corner, and an idea formed in your mind. “quick, in there,” you urged, pushing him towards it. he looked confused for a moment before understanding dawned, and he grinned, pulling you in after him. the sound of the shower turning on masked the sound of your breathing as you kissed him again, more urgently this time. his hand found its way back to your panties, his touch no longer gentle but demanding, and you could feel his cock, hard and insistent, pressing against your thigh. you reached down to stroke him through his pants, feeling the length and thickness of him, making you even more eager. he groaned into your mouth, his hips bucking against your hand.

his own need was clear, and you knew what you had to do. you sank to your knees, pulling his pants down to reveal his erection, standing proud and thick. without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, your eyes never leaving his as you began to suck. his moans grew louder, his hands tangling in your hair as you worked him with your mouth, eager to bring him the same pleasure he had given you. his taste was new, but familiar in a way that made your stomach flip. you could feel his cock swell even more, and you knew he was close. his grip on your hair tightened, his hips thrusting gently, and you took it as a sign to speed up, to swallow him down deeper. and just as the footsteps grew closer, he came, his release hot and salty on your tongue.

you swallowed, licking him clean as you stood up, your own arousal pulsing between your legs. he pulled you close again, kissing you deeply, his hands roaming over your body. “i want you, (y/n),” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “i want all of you, right here, right now.” and before you could respond, he was lifting you up, setting you on the bench and peeling your panties off, leaving you bare and exposed.

his cock was still hard, and he positioned himself at your entrance, his tip nudging against your wetness. you could feel the size of him, the way he stretched you open even though he hadn't even slid in yet. you desperately tried not to think about namjoon, to focus on the comfort soobin was offering as a friend. his eyes searched yours for consent, and with a nod, you gave it. he pushed in, slow and gentle, filling you completely. you moaned out his name, the sound echoing off the tiles. it was unlike anything you had ever felt before, his girth stretching you in a way that was both painful and exquisite. he didn't stop, though, continuing to move at a pace that was just right, building the tension until you felt like you might come apart at the seams.

his hands cupped your breasts, squeezing and kneading as he thrust into you, his eyes never leaving yours. you could see the passion in them, the way he was losing himself in the moment, and it made you feel alive, wanted. “you're so wet,” he grunted, his voice strained with effort. “so perfect.”

his words were like a balm to your soul, the praise you had been craving, the gentle touch you hadn't realized you needed. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper. “yes,” you murmured, your voice a whisper. “yes, fuck, soo.” his rhythm grew more erratic, his breathing ragged, and you knew he was close. your own orgasm was building, the pressure inside you threatening to burst. “you're gonna cum for me,” he panted, his voice low and commanding. “gonna cum so hard.”

his words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing around him as you screamed out his name. he followed shortly after, his release hot and powerful, filling you up without any barrier. the feeling was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and fear that only added to the intensity of the moment.

as you both came down from the high, panting and trying to catch your breath, you realized what you had done. the comfort sex had turned into something much more intimate, something that would change everything between you. but for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, basking in the warmth of his embrace as the water from the shower washed away the evidence of your shared secret.

his forehead rested against yours, his eyes filled with a tenderness that was new to you. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle. you nodded, your chest heaving with each breath. “yes,” you whispered, feeling a strange mix of emotions. “i'm okay.”

you didn't know how to explain that it was more than just the physical release that had made you feel better. it was the connection, the understanding, the gentle way he had taken care of you when you felt so broken. you knew that this moment would be something you would cherish, something that would sustain you through the storm that was namjoon's cruelty.

but you also knew that you couldn't keep running to soobin every time namjoon hurt you. you had to find a way to stand on your own two feet, to face the demons that were holding you hostage. but for now, in the warmth of the shower, with soobin's arms around you, you allowed yourself to just be. to feel alive and desired, if only for a little while longer.

you could feel the pulse of his cock still inside you, a strangled moan passing your lips as you felt him grow hard inside your pussy, your eyes rolling back at the feeling of him, so lewd and filthy for your cunt, a smirk playing on his face as he began to tilt his hips upward, the overwhelming sensation bringing tears to his eyes. “you really gonna fuck me again?” you practically purred, nails scratching at his chest as his pace began to quicken.

“i have to, you're still dripping for me,” he almost whined, the feeling of your juices drenching his dick just too intense. you pulled him in closer, saving the second blissful sensation of him pulling your cunt apart as he continued to pump his dick into you. you were both unaware of just how loud you were being, as much as you were of the nearby presence, who had been listening to every word with a look of utter anger on his face.

namjoon had been on his way to grab something from his office when he heard the locker room door slam, and the sound of your sobs had drawn him in. he had been torn between leaving and walking in, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. and now, as he heard the sound of soobin's body slapping against yours, as he heard the two of you gasp and moan, his anger grew. he felt like he had been stabbed in the back, the betrayal a cold, sharp pain in his chest.

his hand was clenched into a fist, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from storming in and tearing the two of you apart. instead, he leaned against the wall, listening as soobin whispered sweet nothings into your ear, as he praised your body and made you feel good about yourself. the irony of the situation was not lost on him; the one person who had been so cruel to you was now being the one to console you in the most intimate way possible.

his mind raced with thoughts of what he should do, but in the end, he decided to stay put. he would let this play out, let soobin have his moment of victory, and then he would deal with it. but for now, he had to listen to the sound of your pleasure, the sound of what he had wanted to be his, being given to someone else. and it made his blood boil.

the following day, tension hung heavy in the air, a storm brewing in namjoon's chest as he awaited your arrival. the echoes of what he overheard between you and soobin replayed in his mind, each word twisting the knife of jealousy deeper into his heart. the anger was sharp, intense, and the moment you stepped into the classroom, he felt his blood begin to boil.

you entered the room with a sense of calm, your steps measured and your expression serene. it was a visible contrast to the way namjoon’s heart raced and his jaw clenched in a desperate attempt to maintain his composure. as the lesson began, he made it his personal mission to nail you into the ground with questions, to strip away that calm exterior and expose whatever emotions lay beneath. “miss (y/n),” he began, his voice cutting through the classroom like a blade, “perhaps you can explain the concept of friedrich nietzsche's ‘übermensch’ to the class?”

the question was pointed, meant to trip you up, to make you falter. but to his astonishment, you didn’t miss a beat.

“the ‘übermensch’ is a concept in nietzsche’s philosophy that refers to someone who has transcended the limitations of conventional morality and societal norms to create and live by their own values,” you replied, your voice steady, almost indifferent. “it’s a cornerstone of his idea of life-affirmation, where one embraces their existence fully and creates meaning in a world that might otherwise seem meaningless.”

namjoon’s eyes narrowed, but he wasn’t done yet. “and what about the eternal recurrence? how does that concept tie into the idea of the ‘übermensch’?”

“the eternal recurrence is the idea that life, in all its events, could potentially repeat itself infinitely,” you answered, still without hesitation. “for nietzsche, the ‘übermensch’ is someone who could embrace this concept, who would live their life in such a way that they’d be willing to relive it over and over again. it’s about living with such purpose and strength that one would welcome even the most painful experiences.” namjoon’s jaw tightened, a muscle in his cheek ticking as he fired question after question at you, trying to find a chink in your armor. but you got all of them right, each answer delivered with precision and clarity. and what made his blood boil even more was that you never once glanced at him. not even for a second.

it was as if he didn’t exist to you, and that realization twisted his gut into knots. the way you didn’t acknowledge his presence felt like a slap in the face. he could feel his anger simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over. but what pushed him closer to the edge was the way you looked at soobin. he noticed it—the way your eyes softened when you glanced at him, the way your lips curved into a genuine smile when you laughed at something he said. the sight made something inside namjoon snap. he could feel the pencil in his hand crack under the pressure of his grip, the wood splintering, but you didn’t even notice.

as the bell rang, signaling the end of class, namjoon watched you closely. everyone else filtered out of the room, but you lingered, packing your things with that same maddening calm. when the last student left, his resolve crumbled. “(y/n),” he called out softly, his voice a mere whisper of the authority it usually held. you paused, glancing up from your bag. “yes, professor kim?”

there was a sting in the formality of your response, a distance that hadn’t been there before. it made his heart constrict painfully. he swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. “please, stop calling me that,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of desperation. you tilted your head slightly, the smallest hint of confusion crossing your features. “but that’s what you asked me to call you,” you replied, your tone even, devoid of the warmth he had once taken for granted.

he felt the sting of his own words being thrown back at him. it was true; he had been the one to demand that distance, to keep you at arm’s length. and now he was paying the price. as you turned to leave, something in him snapped. “i’m sorry,” he blurted out, the words spilling from his lips before he could stop them. you froze, your hand stilling on the strap of your bag. slowly, you turned back to face him. “sorry for what?”

“for everything,” he said, his voice thick with regret. he hesitated, the weight of his confession pressing down on him, but he knew he had to say it. “i fell for you the minute i saw you, you know? you looked so out of place in the club, and it drew me to you. but when i realized you were my student, it pissed me off. it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” your gaze softened, the hard edges of your expression melting away as you looked at him. “how do you think i felt?” you asked, your voice gentle, understanding.

namjoon sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i know i’ve been an asshole, (y/n),” he admitted, his voice rough with self-loathing. “but i can’t keep playing this game. it’s tearing me apart.”

you didn’t respond immediately, the silence between you stretching out, heavy with unspoken words. you turned to leave once more, but before you could take another step, namjoon moved. he closed the distance between you in an instant, his arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you against his chest. “please, don’t go,” he whispered, his voice trembling with the intensity of his emotions.

“namjoon,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. “you have to stop. you’ll get fired if anyone finds out.”

“i don’t care,” he murmured, his grip tightening as if he was afraid you’d slip away. “i don’t care if it means i get to be with you.”

you stood there, wrapped in his arms, the weight of his words sinking in. It was a dangerous game the two of you were playing, one that could cost him everything. but in that moment, all you could think about was the way his heart beat against your back, strong and steady, grounding you in a world that suddenly felt like it was spinning out of control. as much as you wanted to fight it, as much as you knew the risks, there was a part of you that didn’t want to let go either. the part that had fallen for him too, despite everything, despite the pain and the confusion and the impossibility of it all.

“namjoon,” you whispered again, your voice barely audible, “what are we gonna do?”

he didn’t have an answer, not yet. all he knew was that he couldn’t let you go. not now. not when he had finally admitted the truth to himself. and as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside the classroom seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a stolen moment that neither of you was ready to end.

✧.*

a/n: this was soo ass but some sweet soul wanted more joon content so i hope they see this and if they don't like it i will def do another one