ot7

freaky Engene

[honmineee]

Wrong Number, Right Person.

Pairing: Ni-ki x Reader (Main), Heeseung x Reader (Main)

Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff

Tropes: Neglectful Boyfriend, Best Friend to Lovers, Sick Fic (Cramps/Period Comfort)

Warnings: Emotional neglect, lying, minor angst.

Summary:

One year with Ni-ki has yielded nothing but cold shoulders and empty promises. Left alone in bed, crying from agonizing period cramps, you finally reach out to his best friend, Heeseung, just looking for a distraction. But when a casual text reveals that Ni-ki lied about coming home to you, your heart breaks completely. You expect to spend the night alone in the dark—until a knock on your door reveals Heeseung standing under the porch light, arms full of snacks, a heating pad, and the exact warmth your boyfriend refused to give.

Ni-ki [08:14 PM]: Can’t come over tonight. Out with the guys.

You stare at the screen, a hot water bottle pressed desperately against your stomach as another wave of cramps hits you. One year. You’d been together for a whole year, and it still felt like you were begging for scraps of his time. No 'are you feeling okay?', no 'do you need me to bring you anything?'. Just a cold, dead end.

Tears prick your eyes, a mix of hormonal exhaustion and pure, heavy loneliness. You just need someone to talk to. Someone to distract you from the ache in your abdomen and the hollow feeling in your chest.

Your fingers hover over your contacts. You can't text Ni-ki again—you refuse to beg. Instead, you tap on a name you probably shouldn't.

You :[08:22 PM]: Hey... sorry to bother you. Are you busy?

You don't expect a fast reply. He's Ni-ki's best friend; they're probably together. But barely a minute passes before your phone buzzes.

Heeseung [08:23 PM]: Never a bother. Just finishing up some gaming. What’s up? You okay?

Just seeing those two words—You okay?—makes a tear finally slip down your cheek. It’s so simple. So effortless. Why was it so hard for Ni-ki to ask that?

You: [08:25 PM]: Not really. Just having a really bad night. Cramps are killing me and I'm just... feeling kind of down.

Heeseung [08:26 PM]: Ah, the worst. Hang on, did Ni-ki not bring you the heating pad? He told me earlier you weren't feeling well.

Your breath hitches. Ni-ki knew. He knew you were hurting, and he still chose to go out.

You: [08:28 PM]: He’s out with you guys, isn’t he?

There’s a long pause. The three dots appear, disappear, and then reappear.

Heeseung [08:31 PM]: No. He said he was going home early to check on you. He's not here.

You : [08:32 PM]: Oh. I see.

You lock your phone and press it face down on the mattress. The physical ache in your abdomen is nothing compared to the sudden, hollow drop in your chest. He lied. He knew you were miserable, used you as an excuse to leave his friends, and then just... went somewhere else.

You pull your knees tighter to your chest, letting the hot tears finally spill over, blurring the dim outlines of your bedroom. A year of your life, and you were completely invisible to him.

Fifteen minutes pass in a miserable haze of pain and quiet sobbing. You’re so trapped in your own head that the soft, rhythmic knocking at your front door almost doesn't register.

Knock, knock, knock.

You frown, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your oversized sweater. Ni-ki wouldn't knock—he has a key. Forcing yourself upright, you fight through a sharp wave of cramps and drag your feet down the hallway. When you swing the door open, you lock eyes with the last person you expected to see.

Heeseung is standing under the porch light, still wearing his black leather jacket, looking a little breathless. In one hand, he’s holding a convenience store plastic bag; in the other, a brand-new box containing an electric heating pad.

"Heeseung?" your voice cracks, raw and completely betraying how much you’ve been crying.

His eyes soften instantly, a look of pure, protective worry crossing his face. He takes a step inside, closing the door behind him to shut out the chilly night air.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice low and soothing. "I called Ni-ki three times. He didn't answer. I knew you were alone, and I... I couldn't just sit at home knowing you were hurting."

He holds up the bag, giving you a small, comforting smile. "I brought the heavy-duty heating pad. The plug-in kind, so you don't have to keep microwaving that old water bottle. And I guessed on the snacks, but I got the sweet stuff and the salty stuff just in case."

The sheer effortlessness of his kindness catches in your throat. You look from the bag up to his warm, sincere eyes, and before you can stop yourself, a fresh sob escapes your lips.

Heeseung doesn't hesitate. He sets the bags on the entryway table and steps forward, wrapping his arms securely around you. He smells like the cool night air and faint cologne—a safe, steady anchor.

"I've got you," he murmurs, gently resting a hand on the back of your head, pulling you close. "You're okay. Let's get you taken care of, alright?"

You nod slightly against his chest, gently breaking the hug. The sudden absence of his warmth leaves you feeling a bit exposed, but you give him a small, grateful smile before turning toward the living room.

Heeseung follows closely behind, the soft rustle of the plastic convenience store bag trailing after you. Even in your cramped, dimly lit apartment, his presence feels grounding. He doesn't awkward-out or look around uncomfortably; his focus is entirely on you.

"Sit, sit," he insists gently, gesturing to the couch the moment you reach it.

You sink into the cushions with a quiet sigh, pulling your knees back up to your chest to guard against another impending wave of cramps. Heeseung immediately drops to one knee on the carpet in front of the coffee table, unboxing the electric heating pad with practiced efficiency.

"Where’s the nearest outlet?" he asks, looking up at you. The living room lamp catches the soft lines of his face, making him look incredibly gentle. "I want to make sure the cord reaches the couch comfortably so you don't have to stretch."

You point to the wall just behind the sofa. He nods, plugging it in and waiting a few seconds for it to warm up before handing the plush fabric pad over to you.

"Here. Put it right where it hurts."

As you take it and press the soothing heat against your abdomen, Heeseung turns his attention to the plastic bag. He begins setting your favorite snacks on the coffee table one by one, like a quiet offering. He even bought a bottle of water, twisting the cap off to loosen it before placing it within your reach.

"Ni-ki is an idiot," Heeseung says softly, his voice dropping an octave as he stares at the snacks. It’s the first time he’s openly criticized his best friend to you, and the weight of it hangs heavy in the quiet room. He looks up, meeting your gaze with total sincerity. "You shouldn't have to ask for this. You shouldn't have to be alone right now."

"Right he's an idiot he doesn't even care about me, I don't know, but Does he knows he has a girlfriend, I don't think he knows, he's probably cheating right behind my back.."

Your voice cracks on the last word, the heavy suspicion that’s been brewing in the back of your mind for months finally slipping out into the open. It feels dangerous to say out loud, especially to Ni-ki's best friend, but the exhaustion and pain have stripped away all your defenses.

Heeseung freezes. The hand he had extended toward the snack bags drops onto his knee.

For a long moment, the only sound in the living room is the low hum of the refrigerator and the quiet, heavy rhythm of your breathing. Heeseung looks down at the floor, his jaw tightening so hard you can see the muscle flex. The betrayal stings twice as bad because Heeseung is stuck in the middle—caught between his loyalty to a childhood friend and the absolute wreckage standing right in front of him.

"Hey," Heeseung says softly, his voice dropping to a low, commanding whisper that instantly pulls your gaze back to him.

He moves from the floor, sliding onto the cushion right next to you. He doesn't cross the boundary of touching you again, but he sits close enough that you can feel the steady radiation of his warmth. He looks directly into your tear-stained eyes, his expression dead serious.

"Don't do that to yourself," he says, his tone fiercely protective. "Don't sit here and think you're not enough to keep someone's attention. If he’s doing something stupid—if he's out there messing up the best thing he’s ever had—that is entirely on him. It has nothing to do with your worth."

He lets out a harsh, frustrated breath, looking away for a split second before locking eyes with you again.

"I don't know where his head is at lately," Heeseung confesses, his voice laced with a raw honesty that makes your heart skip a beat. "But I know if you were mine? I wouldn't be anywhere else but right here. I wouldn't give you a single reason to doubt me."

"Well I don't know what to do heeseung..I guess it's time for this moment that I've been wanting to do since ni-ki started acting stupid."

The words hang heavy in the quiet space between you, charged with the sudden shift in the room. Heeseung doesn't move, his eyes tracking the exhaustion etched into your face, but you can see the subtle hitch in his breathing. He knows exactly what you mean. The breaking point you’ve been pushing away for months has finally arrived.

You reach for your phone on the coffee table, your fingers trembling slightly, but your grip is firm. You unlock it, open the chat that has brought you nothing but silence and cold excuses, and stare at Ni-ki’s name.

Heeseung watches you, completely still. He doesn't stop you, nor does he urge you on. He just stays right there beside you, a silent, steady anchor as you finally claim your own peace.

With a final, shaky breath, you type out the words you should have sent weeks ago.

To: Ni-ki [08:54 PM]: We're done, Ni-ki. Don't bother coming by.

You hit send. Before your mind can second-guess the decision, you press down on his contact name, hit block, and toss the phone face-down onto the couch cushion beside you. It’s over. A whole year, ended in a single sentence.

The moment the phone hits the fabric, a strange mixture of relief and heavy grief washes over you, and your shoulders slump.

Heeseung lets out the breath he’d been holding. Slowly, deliberately, he reaches out and places his hand over yours, his large, warm palm completely covering your cold fingers. He gives your hand a gentle, grounding squeeze.

"You're brave," he murmurs, his voice incredibly soft, filled with a deep respect that makes your chest ache in a completely different way. "I know that wasn't easy."

You look up at him through a fresh blur of tears, your voice barely a whisper. "What do I do now?"

Heeseung’s thumb gently brushes against the back of your hand, a slow, comforting rhythm. A small, tender smile touches the corners of his lips, trying to ease the heaviness in your chest.

"Now," he says softly, his dark eyes holding yours with total devotion, "you let me take care of you. Eat some snacks, let the heating pad do its job, and just breathe. You don't have to worry about him ever again."

You let out a long, shuddering sigh, the heavy weight that’s been pressing down on your chest for the last year finally starting to lift, leaving a dull, exhausting ache in its place.

"I know..." you whisper, your voice trailing off into the quiet room.

You look down at where his hand is covering yours. The contrast is almost overwhelming—Ni-ki’s touch had felt so cold and fleeting lately, like he was always looking for an excuse to pull away. But Heeseung’s hand is steady, warm, and completely there, anchoring you to the present moment.

Heeseung notices your gaze and shifts slightly, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles one more time before gently pulling his hand back, giving you a bit of space so you don't feel crowded. He reaches over to the coffee table and grabs the bag of sweets you like, tearing it open with a soft rustle.

"Here," he says, offering the bag to you with a soft, encouraging tilt of his head. "Doctor’s orders. You need the sugar, and honestly, you deserve a break from thinking for at least the rest of the night."

You take a small piece, the sweet taste a welcome distraction from the bitter reality of the breakup. As the electric heating pad finally hits its peak temperature, sending a deep, soothing warmth through your aching stomach, you lean back into the couch cushions. For the first time in months, you don’t feel like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Heeseung grabs the TV remote, turning it on and flipping through a streaming menu to find something light and mindless to put on in the background.

"Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?" he asks quietly, keeping his eyes on the screen to give you a moment of privacy as you wipe away the last of your tears. "I can crash on the armchair, or I can head out whenever you want. Whatever makes you feel most comfortable."

Heeseung pauses, the remote still held loosely in his hand as he turns his head to look at you. The soft, shifting light from the TV screen reflects in his eyes, highlighting just how deeply your words hit him.

He sets the remote down on the cushion between you, his entire posture softening. A gentle, genuine smile spreads across his face—the kind of look that makes you feel completely safe, completely seen.

"You never have to thank me for this," he says, his voice dropping into a low, quiet register that feels incredibly intimate in the stillness of the room. "Seriously. I mean what I said. You deserve to be taken care of, especially when you're hurting."

He shifts slightly, leaning his elbow on the back of the couch so he can face you fully, giving you his undivided attention.

"I'm just glad I checked my phone when I did," he adds softly, his eyes searching yours with a warmth that makes the lingering chill of the breakup melt away. "Just rest now, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

You nod, a wave of pure exhaustion finally catching up to you. With the physical relief of the heating pad and the emotional weight of Ni-ki finally lifted from your shoulders, your eyelids feel incredibly heavy.

Seeing your nod, Heeseung’s smile grows even softer. He reaches over and gently pulls the plush blanket from the back of the sofa, shaking it out before draping it carefully over your shoulders, tucking you in without breaking your comfortable boundary.

"Close your eyes," he murmurs, his voice a soothing, low rumble in the dim room. "I'll be right here."

You let your head sink back into the cushions, letting the quiet audio of the TV and the steady, comforting presence of Heeseung lull you to sleep. For the first time in a year, you don't feel lonely.

In the morning

The harsh, unyielding morning light filtered through the blinds, casting thin lines of gold across the living room carpet. You blinked against the sudden brightness, your senses slowly returning to you. The sharp, agonizing cramps from the night before had finally ebbed away into a dull, manageable ache, thanks to the continuous warmth of the electric heating pad still pressed against your stomach.

You shifted slightly, the soft rustle of the plush blanket reminding you exactly where you were. You were still on the couch.

For a second, the quietness of the apartment made your chest tighten with a familiar, old loneliness—the ghost of Ni-ki’s neglect. But as you sat up, pushing the tangled hair from your face, you realized the heavy, suffocating weight that usually occupied your thoughts was gone. You had ended it. You had sent the text, blocked the number, and severed the cord.

Your eyes scanned the room, looking for the boy who had anchored you through the storm. The armchair was empty. The TV was turned off, the remote neatly placed back on the coffee table next to the half-eaten bags of snacks and the empty water bottle.

Then, you saw it. A small, torn piece of notebook paper resting on the edge of the table, weighted down by a fresh, unopened bottle of juice.

You reached out, your fingers tracing the neat, steady handwriting.

"You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you. I plugged the heating pad into the wall outlet so it wouldn't die, and I locked the door on my way out. Please drink the juice and try to eat something. I'll text you later to check on you. — Heeseung"

A small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of your lips—a feeling so foreign it almost ached. It was a stark, undeniable contrast to the last year of your life. With Ni-ki, you were always searching for hidden meanings, decoding blunt texts, and begging for a shred of presence. With Heeseung, everything was just... clear. Safe.

Later that afternoon, the crisp air bit at your cheeks as you walked down the bustling street near the university campus. The sun was bright, but the wind was cool enough to justify the oversized jacket you wore. Beside you, Heeseung walked at a relaxed pace, his hands shoved deep into his leather jacket pockets.

He had texted you a few hours after you woke up, casually asking if you wanted to grab some fresh air and get a proper meal. You had jumped at the chance. Being alone in the apartment made the reality of the breakup feel too loud, but being next to Heeseung made the world feel steady again.

As a group of loud students passed by on the sidewalk, forcing the two of you closer together, you hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then, acting on an instinct you didn't quite understand, you reached out and slid your hand around Heeseung’s arm, clinging softly to his sleeve.

Heeseung froze for a split second, his footsteps stuttering. You looked up, suddenly worried you had crossed a line, but as his eyes met yours, the tension melted from his shoulders. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he adjusted his arm, pulling it slightly closer to his side so your hold was secure, a quiet, unspoken acceptance passing between you.

But the warmth of the moment was instantly shattered.

You felt Heeseung’s posture stiffen entirely, his arm turning to stone beneath your fingers. His eyes locked onto something—someone—further down the block.

You followed his gaze, and your breath caught in your throat.

Walking straight toward you, his leather jacket open and his expression dark, was Ni-ki. He looked disheveled, like he hadn't slept, but the moment his eyes dropped to your hand wrapped tightly around his best friend's arm, his face contorted into pure, unadulterated rage.

"What the hell is this?" Ni-ki’s voice boomed, cutting through the ambient noise of the street as he stopped abruptly in front of you.

You instinctively stepped half a beat behind Heeseung, your grip tightening on his arm.

Ni-ki didn't even look at you. His eyes were burning holes straight into Heeseung’s face, his chest heaving with volatile anger. "Are you serious right now, Heeseung? What are you doing with my girlfriend?"

Heeseung didn't flinch. He stepped forward slightly, shielding you from Ni-ki's towering presence. His voice was incredibly calm, but it possessed a dangerous, icy edge you had never heard from him before.

"Girlfriend?" Heeseung let out a low, humorless laugh, his eyes narrowing. "She’s not your girlfriend, Ni-ki. She’s mine."

The word hung in the air like a match dropped in a powder keg. Mine.

You knew Heeseung only said it to hurt him—to force Ni-ki to face the reality of what he had thrown away, to twist the knife of jealousy into a boy who had taken everything for granted. And it worked entirely too well.

Ni-ki’s eyes turned completely feral. "What did you just say?"

Before you could even process the movement, Ni-ki lunged forward. His fist flew, connecting sharply with the side of Heeseung’s jaw with a sickening thud. The force of the blow tore Heeseung’s arm from your grip, sending him stumbling back against the brick wall of a storefront.

"Heeseung!" you screamed, your voice cracking with sheer panic.

Heeseung wiped a sudden smear of blood from his split lip, his calm demeanor completely evaporating into raw, defensive adrenaline. He didn't hesitate. He lunged back, throwing his weight into Ni-ki, shoving him hard into the pavement.

The fight was messy, fueled by months of unspoken tension and suppressed resentment. Passersby stopped, gasping and pulling out phones, but you were entirely blind to them. All you could see was the brutal flurry of fabric and fists. Ni-ki threw another wild punch, his knuckles catching Heeseung squarely across the eyebrow, splitting the delicate skin open. Heeseung countered, driving his fist into Ni-ki's stomach, knocking the wind out of him until two older men from a nearby cafe finally rushed over, throwing their arms around both boys to tear them apart.

"Let go of me!" Ni-ki roared, thrashing against the grip of the man holding him back. Wipeable blood dripped from Heeseung’s eyebrow, staining his cheek, but he stood his ground, breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he stared his former best friend down.

Ni-ki’s eyes finally snapped to you, frantic, furious, and bleeding from his lip. "You cheated on me," he hissed, the words laced with venom as he pointed a trembling finger at you. "A whole year, and the second I'm not looking, you're sleeping with my best friend? You're a liar. You cheated on me!"

Something inside you snapped.

The lingering fear, the exhaustion, the months of crying yourself to sleep in a dark, empty apartment—it all rushed to the surface, breaking through the dam of your silence.

"I cheated on you?!" you yelled back, the sheer volume of your voice surprising even yourself as tears finally spilled over your cheeks. "Are you out of your mind, Ni-ki?! Look at me! Look at what you've done to me for the past year!"

Step by step, you walked right up to him, completely unbothered by the crowd, completely unbothered by his anger.

"You forget I even exist! You never give me attention, you never tell me anything sweet, you treat me like an absolute chore! Last night I was curled up in bed crying from agony, and you knew it. You knew I was sick, and you used me as an excuse to leave your friends just so you could go somewhere else and lie to me!"

Ni-ki flinched, his furious expression faltering for a split second as the weight of his own actions was laid bare in front of the street.

"You left me alone in the dark!" your voice cracked, a heavy, ragged sob tearing from your throat. "I didn't cheat on you, Ni-ki. You abandoned me a long time ago. Heeseung was the only person who actually cared if I was alive last night. We are done. We've been done. Don't you dare ever look at me again."

Without waiting for his response, without caring about the stunned silence of the street or the look of sudden realization on Ni-ki's face, you grabbed Heeseung’s hand. His fingers were shaking slightly, his knuckles scraped and bleeding, but he held on tight as you pulled him away from the scene, walking as fast as your legs could carry you back toward the safety of your apartment.

The heavy wooden door of your apartment clicked shut, finally sealing out the chaotic noise of the world outside. The silence of the hallway was deafening.

You let out a long, trembling breath and turned to look at Heeseung. He looked terrible. The split across his eyebrow was still sluggishly bleeding, a dark crimson line trailing down the side of his temple, and his lower lip was already starting to swell and discolor.

"Sit on the bathroom counter," you instructed softly, your voice still rough from crying.

He didn't argue. He followed you into the small bathroom, hopping up onto the edge of the counter while you retrieved the first-aid kit from the cabinet. Your hands were shaking as you pulled out the antiseptic wipes, cotton pads, and ointment.

You stepped between his knees, leaning in close to inspect the damage. Heeseung sat perfectly still, his eyes tracking your every movement as you gently pressed a damp cotton pad against his eyebrow to clean away the blood. He winced slightly, his sharp jaw tightening, but he didn't pull away from your touch.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your heart aching as you saw the bruising forming near his eye. "This is my fault. You shouldn't have gotten hurt because of me."

"It's not your fault," Heeseung murmured, his voice low and raspy. He reached up, his warm, uninjured hand gently catching your wrist, stopping your movements for a moment. His eyes were intense, holding yours with total sincerity. "Don't apologize for his stupidity. I'd take a hit for you any day. You know that."

You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. The closeness was overwhelming—the scent of his cologne mixed with the metallic tang of blood, the steady rise and fall of his chest right against yours.

You cleared your throat softly, gently pulling your hand back to finish dabbing the ointment onto his split lip. You tried to focus on the task, but the question that had been burning in your mind since the sidewalk finally slipped past your lips.

"Heeseung..." you started, keeping your eyes on his lip as you applied a small strip of medical tape to his eyebrow. "Why did you say that out there?"

He stayed silent, watching you.

"Why did you tell him I was yours?" you asked, finally dropping your hands to your sides and looking directly into his dark eyes. "I know you wanted to make him jealous, but... it felt different."

Heeseung let out a long, heavy breath, leaning his head back slightly against the bathroom mirror. A faint, self-deprecating smile touched his uninjured side of his lips.

"Because it wasn't just to make him jealous," he confessed softly.

Your heart did a violent flip against your ribs. "What do you mean?"

Heeseung slid down from the counter, stepping closer to you until there was barely any space left between you in the small bathroom. He looked down at you, the defensive wall he usually kept up completely shattered by the adrenaline and the raw emotion of the day.

"I’ve wanted to say those words for a very long time," Heeseung said, his voice dropping into a quiet, vulnerable register that made your skin tingle. "Long before you and Ni-ki ever started dating."

You stared at him, completely speechless, your mind scrambling to process what he was saying.

"I loved you first," he whispered, the truth finally tumbling out into the open after a year of silence. "Before he ever even noticed you, I was planning on telling you how I felt. I had everything ready. But... Ni-ki found out. He got jealous, he got competitive, and he moved faster than me. He confessed to you before I could, and because he was my best friend, I backed off. I thought... I thought if he loved you, he’d treat you right. So I forced myself to be just the supportive friend."

Heeseung reached out, his thumb gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek, his touch incredibly light and tender.

"But watching him neglect you for a whole year? Watching you cry because of him while I had to sit on the sidelines and pretend it didn't rip me apart?" His voice cracked slightly, his eyes swimming with a year's worth of suppressed pain. "That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. So when I said you were mine today... I meant it. I don't ever want to see you hurt by anyone else again. Especially not him."

Your breath caught in your throat, the walls of the small bathroom suddenly feeling like they were closing in. You stared up at him, your eyes wide as your mind scrambled to process the weight of his words. A year. A whole year of feeling invisible, of wondering what was wrong with you, while the person who actually held your heart in his hands had been standing right next to you the entire time.

"Heeseung..." you whispered softly.

The name was barely a breath, a fragile sound that trembled with the sheer shock of what was happening. You couldn't believe it. It felt like a dream born out of your worst night of exhaustion, a cruel trick of your mind—except the warmth of his thumb against your cheek was entirely too real.

As the reality of his confession sank into your chest, a fresh, heavy tear slipped from your eye, tracking over his skin.

Heeseung’s expression softened even more, a look of profound tenderness crossing his bruised face. He didn't pull his hand away; instead, he let his palm rest gently against the side of your face, his thumb catching the tear before it could fall.

"Don't cry," he murmured, his voice laced with a quiet desperation as he leaned down slightly, bringing himself closer to your level. "Please don't cry. The last thing I ever want to do is add to the tears he caused you."

"I just..." You swallowed hard, your hands instinctively reaching out to rest against his chest, feeling the rapid, heavy thudding of his heart beneath his shirt. "I had no idea. You were always so careful around me. You never gave me a reason to think..."

"Because I had to," Heeseung confessed, a raw, self-deprecating laugh escaping his lips. He closed his eyes for a brief second, leaning his forehead gently against yours. The proximity was intoxicating—the scent of him, the heat radiating from his skin, the quiet safety of his space. "Every time you smiled at him, every time you complained about him being cold and I had to tell you to give him another chance because he was my friend... it was killing me. But I didn't want to ruin your happiness if you really loved him."

He opened his eyes, staring directly into yours with a fierce, unwavering devotion.

"But you're free now," he whispered, his grip on your cheek tightening just enough to ground you. "And I'm not backing down this time. I don't care about the consequences. I just want to show you how you're actually supposed to be loved."

The air in the small bathroom shifted instantly, the heavy angst of the past year evaporating into pure, electric tension. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, your fingers tightening against the fabric of his shirt, pulling him just a fraction of an inch closer.

Heeseung’s breath hitched. His dark eyes dropped to your lips, searching, waiting for any sign that you wanted this as badly as he did.

"Heeseung," you breathed, and that was all the permission he needed.

He leaned down, his mouth catching yours in a kiss that was a whole year in the making. It wasn't the tentative, fleeting touch you had grown used to; it was deep, possessive, and desperate, filled with all the unspoken words and hidden glances he had forced himself to swallow for months. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and Heeseung used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his large hand sliding from your cheek down to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair to hold you completely steady against him.

Your hands tracked up his chest, wrapping around his neck, pulling yourself up on your tiptoes to bury yourself in his warmth. He let out a low, ragged groan against your mouth, his other arm winding tightly around your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he backed you out of the bathroom and into the dim hallway.

You didn't break the kiss for a single second. He guided you backward until your knees hit the edge of your mattress, both of you tumbling down onto the unmade sheets.

Heeseung came down over you, his hands pinning your wrists gently to the mattress beside your head, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your head spin. But as he shifted his weight to get closer, his thigh brushed firmly against your lower abdomen.

A sharp, sudden spike of a cramp flared up, making you involuntarily gasp and tense up beneath him.

Heeseung pulled back instantly, his eyes wide with sudden panic. The haze of passion in his expression immediately cleared, replaced by pure concern. "Oh god—I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? Your stomach?"

You let out a breathless, slightly embarrassed laugh, your cheeks burning bright red. "No, no, you're fine. It's just... my period. I forgot for a second."

Heeseung blinked, and then a incredibly soft, amused smile broke across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners despite his bruised eyebrow. He let out a breathless chuckle, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.

"Right. The heating pad," he murmured, his voice still deep and raspy from the intensity of the moment. He rolled off you, lying on his side next to you and pulling the heavy blanket up over both of your shoulders. "As much as I want to keep kissing you, doctor's orders take priority."

He reached over to the nightstand where you had moved the electric heating pad earlier, plugging it back in and gently sliding it under the blanket, placing it right over your stomach. Then, he wrapped his large arm around your waist from behind, pulling your back flush against his chest, holding the heating pad securely in place with his palm.

"Better?" he whispered into your hair, his breath warm against your neck.

You nodded, melting completely into his embrace. You were tangled in the sheets together, your heart still racing from the kiss, but wrapped in a warmth that Ni-ki had never given you.

The next week passed in a blur of soft, easy transitions. Without the constant anxiety of a failing relationship hanging over your head, your apartment felt lighter. Your period had finally ended, taking the physical ache with it, and for the first time in a year, you felt entirely like yourself again.

Tonight had been your first official date with Heeseung. No hiding, no lingering shadows of his former best friend—just the two of you at a quiet, late-night diner, laughing until your chest hurt, holding hands across the table under the warm glow of the neon lights.

By the time Heeseung unlocked your apartment door, the clock had long passed midnight. The apartment was cool and dark as you stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind you and sealing out the quiet hum of the city.

You turned around to take off your jacket, but before your fingers could even reach the zipper, Heeseung’s hands were there. He gently slid the fabric off your shoulders, letting it drop carelessly onto the entryway chair.

When you looked up, his eyes were dark, heavy with a patience that had finally run out. A whole week of waiting, of being careful, of holding back—it all culminated in the intense glance he leveled at your lips.

"I've been thinking about this all night," Heeseung murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration in the quiet hallway.

He didn't wait. He stepped into your space, his hands coming up to cup your face, his long fingers anchoring into your hair as he brought his mouth down to yours.

The kiss was entirely different from the desperate, frantic one in the bathroom a week ago. This was slow, deliberate, and dizzyingly deep. A soft sigh escaped your throat, and Heeseung caught the sound, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he pressed you back against the closed front door. The cool wood against your back was a stark contrast to the absolute fire of his touch.

His lips parted yours with a practiced, intoxicating rhythm, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones. You reached out blindly, your hands gripping his shoulders, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt as you pulled him closer, wanting to erase every inch of space between you.

Heeseung broke the kiss for a fraction of a second, his breath hitching as his lips tracked down the line of your jaw, his stubble scraping pleasantly against your skin. He found the sensitive pulse point at your neck, nipping lightly before sucking the soft skin, making your knees go completely weak. You whimpered, your fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him back up to your mouth.

"The bedroom," you breathed out against his lips, the words a desperate whisper.

Heeseung let out a breathless, raspy laugh, his eyes flashing with dark heat. He didn't break contact, keeping his mouth pressed to yours as his hands slid down to your waist. In one smooth, effortless motion, he hoisted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

He carried you down the short hallway, the heavy thud of his boots the only sound in the apartment. You kissed him through the darkness, your hands mapping the broad lines of his back, completely drunk on the smell of him and the safe, consuming weight of his body.

When his knees hit the edge of the mattress, he tumbled down with you, hovering over you in the center of the bed. The dim moonlight filtered through the blinds, illuminating the sharp angles of his face, his messy hair, and the faint, fading bruises on his lip and eyebrow—a reminder of exactly who had fought for you.

Heeseung pinned your wrists to the sheets beside your head, his large palms locking yours down, though his grip was incredibly gentle. He looked down at you, his chest heaving, his dark eyes tracing every detail of your face in the shadows.

"No cramps this time?" he whispered, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his voice laced with a dangerous, heavy affection.

You smiled up at him, your heart hammering wildly against your ribs. "No cramps."

"Good," Heeseung murmured, leaning down until his lips were barely a millimeter from yours, his hot breath fanning over your skin. "Because I'm not letting you go tonight."

Heeseung didn’t give you a chance to reply. He closed the tiny distance between you, his mouth melting over yours in a kiss that felt completely limitless. Without the underlying panic of the week before, this was pure, unadulterated devotion. His lips were soft but demanding, parting yours with a slow, heavy rhythm that made your head spin.

He released your wrists, his large hands immediately sliding down to frame your jaw, his thumbs sweeping across your cheeks as if he were trying to memorize the exact contour of your face. You let out a soft, shaky sigh into his mouth, your arms instantly wrapping around his neck to pull him down as close as physically possible.

A low, ragged rumble vibrated in Heeseung’s chest at your compliance. He shifted his weight, his thigh sliding between yours, the heavy denim of his jeans a delicious friction against your bare legs. The sheer heat radiating off his body was overwhelming, erasing the cool midnight air of the bedroom entirely.

His lips left yours, tracking a path of burning kisses down your jawline to the sensitive dip beneath your ear. You gasped, your head tilting back into the pillows as his teeth lightly grazed your pulse point. Every touch was deliberate, laced with a reverence that made your chest ache.

"You have no idea," Heeseung breathed against your skin, his voice incredibly rough and deep, sending a shiver straight down your spine. His hands traveled down to the hem of your sweater, his warm palms making direct contact with the bare skin of your waist. His hands were large, slightly calloused, and so beautifully warm. "How long I’ve had to pretend I didn't want this. How long I’ve had to look away when you walked into a room."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes heavily hooded, filled with an intensity that made you feel completely consumed. His thumbs stroked the soft skin of your sides, anchoring you to the mattress.

"I'm never looking away again," he whispered, his gaze dropping to your lips before he bent down to take them again.

This time, the kiss was deeper, hungrier. Your fingers tangled in the soft, messy strands of his hair, pulling him closer as you arched your back into his touch. Heeseung groaned, his grip tightening on your waist as he pulled your hips up to meet his, completely burying you beneath his frame. The scent of his cedarwood cologne and the clean, masculine warmth of his skin filled your senses until you couldn't think of anything else. You were entirely safe, entirely cherished, completely drowning in him.

Heeseung broke the kiss for just a second, his breath hitching as he looked down at you in the dim moonlight. The heat in his eyes was undeniable, a silent question hanging in the air. You met his gaze, your hands moving down to the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward in a clear answer.

He sat up on his knees, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulled the soft cotton over his head and tossed it blindly to the floor. The shadows of the bedroom caught the sharp lines of his shoulders and chest, a sight that made your breath hitch. Before you could even think, he leaned back down, his hands slipping under the hem of your sweater. His large palms were warm against your bare skin as he gently lifted the fabric, helping you slide out of it until it joined his shirt on the floor.

The sudden coolness of the room faded the second Heeseung came back down over you. The direct contact of his bare chest against yours was electric, a rush of pure warmth that made you gasp against his lips. He unbuckled his belt with a quick, practiced movement, kicking out of his heavy denim jeans before helping you slide out of yours, stripping away the final barriers between you.

Now completely untethered, Heeseung pulled you flush against him, the full weight of his body pressing you deep into the mattress. His hands traced the curve of your hips, pulling you up to meet him as his mouth found yours again—sweeter, deeper, and completely unrestricted. Every touch was heavy with the realization that you were finally, completely his, wrapped together in the quiet sanctuary of the sheets.

He closed his eyes for a split second, his jaw clenching as he pushed all the way into you, burying himself completely within your warmth. The absolute finality of the movement sent a wave of heat straight to your core, making you cry out softly against his skin.

Heeseung didn't hold back anymore. His hands locked firmly underneath your thighs, lifting your legs higher around his waist to pull you even deeper against him. He began to move in a heavy, relentless rhythm, his chest slick with sweat as he drove into you again and again, each deep stroke completely overriding your senses until your thoughts were entirely consumed by the friction of his body against yours.

"ahh you feel so good baby" heeseung said with low voice letting out moan, before speeding up and going deeper "I didn't realize what I've missed this whole fucking year"heeseung said before going lower and kissing you again.

"heeseung, your dick is so big" you said letting out a loud moan, after breaking the kiss, and gripping tightly at his shoulders, he let out a groan.

"fuck ...ahh..I'm..close.." you said while gripping more tight on his shoulders, after that you orgasm hit like a wave, while you let out a loud moan, but heeseung didn't stop.

"oh fuck..I'm also close..ah.."heeseung said breathing hard, in seconds he came and filled you up with his cum.

"oh..yes..babyy.." he said still didn't pulled out, after some minutes he finally takes out, And his cum dripping on you, he finally kissed your forehead, before collapsing next to you.

While he was laying next to you, he pulled you closer, your back hitting his bare chest.

"your completely mine now." He said while kissing your head.

[honmineee]

𝒽𝑒𝑒𝒿𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒶𝓊𝒹𝒾𝑜

Heeseung trying to push his buttons until Jake finally snaps and decides to show him exactly who is in charge tonight by giving him the best blowjob

Warning (MDNI) wear 🎧

( A/N : Guysss TYSMMM for 100 followersss love youuu, here's a giftt 💗)

[honmineee]

SUNOO AUDIO. (MDNI)

[honmineee]

Look what you've done. Y JW

𐙚 Pairing : Enemy! Jungwon × fem! reader

𐙚 summary: Jungwon is your ultimate college rival, living to push your buttons just to see you get angry. Your worst nightmare comes true when the professor pairs you together for a mandatory project. You’re determined to just survive the assignment—until a video call from your friend Yunah accidentally leaks a secret you desperately wanted to keep hidden. Jungwon overhears everything, but as his teasing intensifies, the playful rivalry suddenly shifts into a dangerously heavy tension that neither of you can ignore.

𐙚 now playing : Earned It" by The Weeknd.

𐙚 ₊˚ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 / 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 (𝟏𝟖+) ⊹ 𐦍

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Content: Hypersexual!Jungwon, somnophilia, teasing, manipulative behavior, rough sex, overwhelming sex, overstimulation, clit play, squirting, light boob play, finger sucking, tattoo kissing, cunnilingus, lots of marking (fr), unprotected p in v (don't do this to urself), creampie.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You sighed loudly enough for him to hear, and he was smirking. You packed your things getting ready to go out before he come to you and annoy you again. But guess what he came to you blocking your way.

"Going somewhere?" he asks, leaning against the doorframe and effectively cutting off your only exit.

The smirk on his face says he knows exactly why you're rushing to pack your things, and he's thoroughly enjoying the fact that he's the reason you're trying to escape. He crosses his arms, looking entirely too pleased with himself, and doesn't budge an inch.

"You sighed so loud I thought the roof was coming down," he teases, tilting his head with a mocking look of concern. "Are you really going to walk out on me like that?"he said still smirk on his face.

"can you get out of my way I'm tired, don't have time for you" you said tiredly while holding your bag on your shoulder.

He smirks widely "I'll let you go this time, because your gonna work with me remember?" He said while slipping his hands on his pocket getting as he step out of the Way. You just roll your eyes and walk out of the classroom. Spotting your friend Yunah down the hall, you quickly catch up to her, and the two of you make your way out together.

Yunah notice that you're little quiet. "Hey y/n are you feeling well?" she asks, her tone laced with worry "yeah I'm not good, because I have to deal with jungwon tonight" says, angrily crossing her arms. Yunah laughs. "It's not funny," you say, narrowing your eyes. "But why do you have to deal with him?"she questions, folding her arms.

You groan, letting your head drop back against the lockers. "Because the professor made him my mandatory project partner. We have to finish the first draft by tonight."

Yunah’s eyes widen, her previous amusement instantly vanishing into pure pity. "Oh, yikes. Safe to say you won't be surviving the night?"

"If I end up in jail for murder, you're bailing me out," you mutter as you and Yunah push open the heavy glass doors of the campus building.

She laughs, bumping her shoulder against yours as the two of you begin the walk back to the dorms together. The late afternoon air is nice, but you can't even enjoy the break from classes, your mind completely consumed by the dread of having to deal with Jungwon later tonight.

"You know, if looks could kill, the campus sidewalk would be in pieces right now," Yunah said, glancing sideways at you with a grin. "Are you still stressing over the Jungwon situation?"

You let out a heavy sigh, adjusting the strap of your backpack. "He's just impossible, Yunah. I feel like he knows exactly how to get under my skin, and tonight we're stuck in a confined space until this draft is done."

Yunah laughed, nudging you again. "Oh, come on. He’s annoying, sure, but look on the bright side—at least he's nice to look at while he's making your life miserable,Just promise me you won't let him distract you,"

"Distract me? Please. I'd rather stare at a blank wall," you scoffed, though the nervous flutter in your stomach said otherwise.

You were about to say more, but Yunah’s eyes suddenly widened as she looked past your shoulder. A knowing, mischievous smirk spread across her face.

"Oh, he's here," she said, quickly grabbing her bag and getting up to leave. She leaned in slightly, giving you a playful nudge. "Good luck dealing with him tonight," Yunah said, giggling as she practically sprinted away before you could even grab her jacket to stop her.

You froze, your heart doing a sudden, violent thud against your ribs. Slowly, you turned around to face the entrance.

Standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, was Jungwon.

A slow, lazy smirk spread across his face as he watched Yunah practically flee the scene.

"Am I really that terrifying?" he asked, his voice low and smooth as he walked over to you. He stopped just a little too close, looking down at you with dark, amused eyes. "Or was she just saving herself from witnessing you suffer through this project?"

You swallowed hard, quickly gathering your notebook to hide how nervous he made you. "Let's just get this over with, Jungwon. We can use one of the study rooms here."

Jungwon chuckled, a rich sound that sent a strange shiver down your spine. He reached down, effortlessly picking up your heavy backpack for you. "Change of plans. The wifi in the dorm lounge is lagging today, and I don't feel like being interrupted every five minutes. We're going to my place."

Before you could even open your mouth to protest, he turned on his heel, expecting you to follow. "Come on. The sooner we get to my apartment, the sooner we can get to... work."

"What do you even have in here? Feels like you're carrying bricks," Jungwon murmured, swinging your backpack over one of his broad shoulders with effortless ease. He fell into step right beside you, his hands slipping casually into his jacket pockets. "Are you preparing to run away from me, or do you just like suffering?"

"Give it back, Jungwon. I can carry my own things," you snapped, reaching for the strap.

He didn't even flinch, simply sidestepping you with a lazy, amused grin that showed he knew exactly how much he was getting under your skin. The crisp evening air was cool against your face, but your cheeks felt burning hot just from being this close to him. You picked up your pace, practically marching down the campus sidewalk toward the edge of the college grounds where his apartment complex was located.

"You're walking so fast," his voice dropped lower, smooth and dripping with mock innocence as he easily kept up with your frantic strides. "Relax. I don't bite... unless you ask nicely."

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes widening as you glared at him. "Excuse me? We are going to your place to finish a college assignment, Jungwon. Keep your mouth shut if you're only going to say things like that."

Jungwon stopped too, turning around to face you fully. He tilted his head, a slow, dangerous smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as his dark eyes locked onto yours. He took one deliberate step closer, crowding into your personal space until you could smell the faint, expensive scent of his cologne.

"Woah, take it easy," he chuckled softly, raising his hands in a fake gesture of surrender. "Your mind is going down a pretty dangerous path, sweetheart. I was talking about peer-reviewing your draft harshly. What exactly did you think I meant?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, completely humiliated as he turned back around and continued walking, leaving you to swallow down your frustration and follow him into the trap of his apartment building.

Jungwon unlocked the door. "Ladies first," he said, holding it open while waiting for her to get inside.

So, she got inside.

The moment the heavy front door clicked shut behind them, the distant sounds of the campus completely vanished. The apartment was dead quiet, dimly lit, and smelled exactly like him—a mix of clean laundry and that faint, expensive cologne. The sudden isolation made her stomach do a nervous flip. She stood awkwardly near the entryway, clutching the straps of her jacket as if it could protect her from the tense atmosphere.

Jungwon tossed his keys onto the counter with a loud clatter that made her jump slightly. He dropped her heavy backpack onto the couch, then turned around slowly, unbuttoning his outer jacket.

With the door locked and no one else around, that polite, classmate act he had been putting on outside completely dropped. His dark eyes locked onto hers, heavy and intense, tracking the way her chest rose and fell with her nervous breathing.

"Make yourself comfortable," he murmured, his voice sounding entirely too low and smooth in the quiet room as he took a slow step toward her. "Like I said... we have a lot of work to get through tonight." Jungwon said after going to his room to get his things.

She watched him disappear down the short hallway before finally letting out the breath she had been holding. Her heart was still beating way too fast. Trying to look as professional and unfazed as possible, she sat down on the couch, opening her computer and waiting for Jungwon to come back.

The soft glow of the laptop screen illuminated the dim living room, making the space feel even smaller and more intimate than it already was. She tried to focus on her document, but her eyes kept darting back toward his bedroom door.

A moment later, the sound of his footsteps returned. Jungwon walked back into the living room, holding his own laptop and a couple of notebooks. He had ditched his heavy jacket, now just wearing a loose, soft-looking shirt that made him look effortlessly casual—and entirely too distracting.

Instead of taking the armchair across from her, he walked straight over to the couch, his dark eyes fixed on her screen as he prepared to sit down right next to her.

"Should we start?" Jungwon said, looking at her as he sank into the couch cushions, settling entirely too close to her side.

"Obviously. If we don't, what should we do?" you said, annoyed, refusing to look at him as you tapped your fingers impatiently against your laptop keyboard. You just wanted to get this over with without losing your mind.

Jungwon saw you were annoyed. Instead of backing off, he just smirked and let out a low chuckle, clearly amused by how easily he could rile you up. He didn't say another word, simply opening his laptop and starting to work.

For the next twenty minutes, the only sound in the apartment was the frantic clicking of keys. You tried your absolute best to focus on your sentences, but it was impossible. Every time Jungwon shifted his weight, or every time his shoulder lightly brushed against yours, your train of thought completely smashed to a halt. He was giving off so much heat, and the quietness of the room only made you hyper-aware of his every breath.

Suddenly, the typing next to you stopped.

You kept your eyes glued to your screen, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see him slowly turning his head to look at you.

"Is there a reason you've been staring at the same paragraph for the last ten minutes?" Jungwon’s voice broke the silence, smooth and laced with that signature, mocking undertone.

You stiffened, your fingers freezing over the keyboard. "I'm editing," you lied through your teeth, finally turning your head to glare at him. "It requires thinking, Jungwon. You should try it sometime."

Jungwon didn't snap back. Instead, his smirk widened, his dark eyes dropping briefly to your lips before locking back onto yours. He leaned back against the cushions, tilting his head as he evaluated the nervous flush creeping up your neck.

"Right. Editing," he echoed softly, closing his laptop just an inch—not completely, but enough to show you that his attention was now entirely focused on you. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're completely distracted. Am I really making it that hard for you to focus?"

"Don't flatter yourself," you scoffed, trying to pull your laptop closer to your lap to create some sort of barrier between you. "I just want to finish this, get my grade, and leave."

"Then let me help," he murmured. Before you could protest, he leaned over, his chest crowding right into your space as he reached past your arms to type a command on your keyboard. His shoulder pressed firmly against yours, his expensive cologne completely taking over your senses. "Let's see what you've actually got written down so far, sweetheart."

"don't Call me sweetheart," you said, your voice trying to remain steady despite how fast your pulse was jumping.

"Why?" he said, looking right at you. His face was so close you could literally feel his warm breath against your skin.

Your heart dropped for a second before you quickly turned away, your cheeks turning a deep pink. But before you could escape his gaze, he gripped your jaw, his fingers firm but gentle as he forced you to look right back at him.

You could feel your heart was about to explode. Driven by pure panic, you quickly got up, moving so fast as you tried to escape from that intense moment.

"I need water. Do you have water?" you said, looking anywhere but at him while waving your hands in front of your face because it felt entirely too hot.

Jungwon’s hand hovered in the empty air where your jaw had just been, his fingers slowly curling back into his palm. He leaned back against the couch, watching your flustered meltdown with a slow, highly satisfied smirk. He didn't look mad at all that you ran away—in fact, he looked like he thoroughly enjoyed knowing exactly what he did to you.

"Kitchen's right through there," he murmured, tilting his head toward the counter. "Help yourself, sweetheart. Take all the time you need to cool down."

She quickly goes to the kitchen getting water while her heart was still beating fast.

"what the fuck was that..?"you said, finally walking back into the living room after about fifteen minutes.

Jungwon was still sitting on the couch, completely focused on working. His computer was resting on his lap, his fingers moving fast across the keyboard as if nothing had even happened. Seeing him so completely unbothered made a strange mix of nerves and heat flutter in your stomach, like something flying around frantically.

At the sound of your voice, his fingers paused over the keys.

Slowly, Jungwon closed his laptop halfway and looked up at you. That lazy, infuriating smirk was already creeping back onto his lips, his dark eyes locking onto yours with total amusement.

"Took you long enough to come back, hm?" Jungwon said, his voice entirely too smooth as he leaned his head back against the cushions to look up at you.

You crossed your arms tightly over your chest, trying to ignore the way your heart gave another stupid, violent thud at his tone. "Don't change the subject. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You can't just... grab me like that."

Jungwon let out a low chuckle, a sound that felt way too intimate in the quiet apartment. He set his laptop onto the coffee table, freeing up his hands before shifting his weight on the couch. He patted the empty space right next to him, the exact spot where you had been sitting before you fled.

"I was just making sure you were listening to me," he murmured, his eyes glinting with a dangerous sort of amusement. "But if a little eye contact makes you panic for fifteen minutes in my kitchen, maybe we really should focus on the assignment."

He tilted his head, his smirk widening as he caught you biting your lip. "Come back here. Let's finish the draft."

For the next 1 hour, they kept doing their work. The room was mostly quiet except for the constant clicking of keyboards and the turning of pages. You were so tired, your eyes straining against the glare of your computer screen, that you finally closed your laptop halfway and looked over at him.

"Can we take a break?" you asked, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

Jungwon paused his typing, looking over at you. He scanned your tired face, a softer, less intense expression crossing his features for just a split second before his usual calm demeanor returned.

"I'll get some energy drink," he said, setting his laptop aside and walking toward the kitchen.

You leaned your head back against the couch, closing your eyes and enjoying the quiet for a moment. A minute later, the sound of his footsteps returned. Jungwon came back after, two energy drinks in his hands, giving one to you. The cold metal of the can felt refreshing against your palms as you took it from him.

"Thanks," you muttered, cracking the tab open.

Jungwon sat back down, much closer than before, opening his own drink. "Don't mention it," he murmured, taking a slow sip while his eyes locked onto yours over the rim of the can. "We still have a long night ahead of us."

After that, suddenly Yunah calls you—a video call.

Your phone lit up on the coffee table, the loud buzzing breaking the heavy silence of the room. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw her name. You quickly picked up your phone and answered her, holding the camera up so she could only see your face, trying to act as normal as possible.

"Hey!" Yunah’s face popped up on the screen, her background showing her cozy bed back at the dorms. She was grinning from ear to ear. "Just checking in. Did you survive the first hour? Is he making you suffer, or are you guys actually getting work done?"

"We're working, Yunah," you said quickly, your voice a little strained as you tried to keep your eyes fixed on the screen. Your cheeks were still a little pink, and you desperately hoped the camera quality wouldn't betray you. "We just took a break for some energy drinks."

"Mhm, sure," Yunah giggled, leaning closer to her camera with a mischievous look. "Just don't forget what I said. Watch out for him. He's dangerous when he gets people alone."

Right at that exact second, you felt the couch cushion sink right behind you.

Jungwon didn't just stay in his spot. He deliberately leaned over, shifting his body until his chest was practically pressed against your back. He slipped his chin right over your shoulder, deliberately crowding into the camera frame so Yunah could see him.

"Who's dangerous?" Jungwon murmured directly into your ear, his voice incredibly low, husky, and entirely too intimate. His warm breath fanned against your neck, sending a violent shiver straight down your spine.

On the screen, Yunah’s jaw completely dropped.

"J-Jungwon?" Yunah stammered through the speaker, her eyes darting between your wide, panicked expression and Jungwon’s calm, smug face right over your shoulder. "Wait... you guys are at his place? Alone? With ur crush..?" The last part came out as a whisper.

You couldn't even form words. Your entire body was frozen, pinned by the heavy weight of his chest pressing against your back. You could feel the solid, steady rhythm of his heart beating right through his shirt, contrasting sharply with your own frantic pulse.

"We're just working on the project, Yunah," Jungwon spoke up, his voice incredibly smooth as he stared directly into the phone camera.

But while his face on screen looked completely innocent, his hand was doing something else entirely.

Beneath the view of the camera, hidden safely below the edge of the coffee table, Jungwon reached out. His fingers brushed against your bare thigh before his hand slipped down, wrapping firmly around your knee, squeezing it just enough to let you know he had you completely trapped.

Your breath hitched, a faint gasp nearly escaping your lips. You glared at the screen, trying with everything in you not to react, but the heat of his palm through your clothes was making you dizzy.

"Right... the project," Yunah said, her voice dropping to a nervous whisper as she picked up on the thick, suffocating tension through the screen. "Um, I actually forgot I have to... do something. I'll talk to you tomorrow!"

Before you could beg her to stay on the line, the screen flashed black. She had hung up.

The apartment fell into a dead, dangerous silence.

Jungwon didn't move an inch. He kept his chin resting on your shoulder, his dark eyes shifting from the blank phone screen slowly up to your face. His smirk returned, sharper and more dominant than before, as his hand on your knee slid a few inches higher.

"Now," he whispered against your ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your lobe. "Where were we?"

She quickly got away, practically scrambling to the other side of the couch to put some distance between them. Her hands were shaking as she grabbed her computer, desperately pulling it onto her lap like a shield.

"Right, we were here... at this part," you said, your voice nearly cracking as you stared blankly at the glowing screen. You couldn't even read the words; your vision was completely blurred by the adrenaline rushing through your veins. Your knee still felt hot where his hand had just been pressing into your skin.

Jungwon didn't chase after you this time. Instead, he just sat back against the cushions, stowing his hands casually behind his head as he watched you try—and utterly fail—to act professional.

A low, deep chuckle vibrated in his chest.

"You're tracking changes on a blank line, sweetheart," he pointed out, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners with pure amusement. He let his arms drop, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, bringing his gaze level with yours from across the couch. "Your hands are shaking. Are you really that scared of me?"

"I am not scared of you," you lied, your voice dropping to a fierce whisper as you finally snapped your eyes up to meet his. "I am trying to pass this class, Jungwon. But you're making it impossible."

"Am I?" He tilted his head, his smirk fading into something much more intense, his gaze dropping to your lips before locking back onto your eyes. "Or am I just making it impossible for you to keep pretending you don't feel exactly what's happening right now?"

You stayed silent, the truth hanging heavily in the air between you. You couldn't look him in the eye, your fingers tightening around the edges of your laptop until your knuckles turned white.

"Now tell me," Jungwon said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming entirely too low and serious. He slid closer across the couch cushions, closing the distance you had just tried so hard to create. "What did Yunah mean by that?"

You kept your gaze glued to the screen, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. "She didn't mean anything. She was just joking."

"Joking?" Jungwon echoed softly. He reached out, his long fingers gently but firmly brushing against your arm until you had no choice but to look at him. His dark eyes were burning, searching your face for any sign of a lie. "She didn't look like she was joking. And you definitely didn't look like you thought it was funny."

He leaned in, his shadow completely enveloping you as he cornered you against the arm of the couch.

"With your crush..." he repeated Yunah's words slowly, letting the phrase roll off his tongue as a smug, dangerous smirk finally broke across his face. "Is that what I am to you, sweetheart? Is that why you've been blushing and running away from me all night?"

"N-no," your voice came out shaky, the denial dying on your lips before you could even finish the word.

Jungwon let out a soft, breathy laugh at your lack of coordination. He leaned in even closer, crowding you against the armrest until you could feel the dangerous heat radiating from his chest. He didn't look convinced at all. In fact, seeing you break down like this only made his eyes darken with total satisfaction.

"No?" he murmured, his voice a low, raspy whisper that sent a shiver straight down your spine. "Then look at me and say it. Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me right now."

He reached out, his thumb gently tracing the line of your lower lip, forcing you to look up at him. His touch was electric, completely erasing whatever thoughts you had left about the assignment.

"You're a terrible liar, sweetheart," he whispered, his eyes dropping to your mouth as his fingers slid down to grip your jaw once again, holding you perfectly still. "Your heart is beating so hard I can practically hear it. So stop running."

Jungwon reached down and pulled the laptop away from your lap, setting it carelessly onto the floor without ever breaking eye contact. The final barrier between you was gone.

Before you could even process the loss of your shield, he shifted his weight, coming over you completely. He pressed his knee into the cushion right beside your thigh, effectively pinning you against the armrest of the couch.

"Now," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dark, husky register that made your breath catch. "No more distractions."

His hand slid up from your jaw, his long fingers tangling gently into your hair to tilt your head back just the way he wanted. You could feel the frantic racing of your own pulse against his palm, but Jungwon didn't hesitate anymore. He leaned in, closing the final few inches between you until his lips were brushing against yours, giving you one last teasing second to breathe before completely stealing your breath away.

She was shocked at first, her eyes widening in absolute disbelief. Her mind completely short-circuited—she couldn't believe her enemy, the guy who drove her crazy and pushed every single one of her buttons, was actually kissing her.

For a second, her hands hovered mid-air, completely frozen against his chest.

But Jungwon didn't let her stay shocked for long. Sensing her hesitation, he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against hers with a slow, devastating confidence that melted away every bit of her resistance. His grip in her hair tightened just enough to anchor her, pulling her flush against him until the entire world shrank down to just the heat of his mouth and the intoxicating scent of his cologne.

Slowly, her eyelids fluttered shut, her fingers finally gripping the soft fabric of his shirt as she stopped fighting and started kissing him back.

After a moment, they broke the kiss, breathing heavily.

The silence of the apartment returned, but it wasn't the suffocating, tense silence from before—it was thick, charged, and completely shifted. Neither of you moved. Jungwon stayed hovering inches above you, his forehead resting lightly against yours as his chest heaved, his breath hot against your face.

The dangerous, mocking smirk he usually wore was completely gone. In its place was a look of pure, raw intensity, his dark eyes fixed on your parted lips before slowly rising to meet your gaze. His fingers were still tangled in your hair, but his grip had softened, almost gently keeping you right where he wanted you.

"Still want to find that blank line on your laptop?" he murmured, his voice incredibly raspy, a faint trace of his usual teasing tone trying to fight its way back through his uneven breathing.

Your hands were still gripping the fabric of his shirt, your heart pounding so hard you were certain he could feel it against his own chest. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, but your mind was still entirely dizzy from the taste of him.

Jungwon let out a low, breathy chuckle at your silence, his thumb slowly tracing the flushed skin of your cheekbone. "Didn't think so," he whispered.

You tried to glare at him, but with your lips still tingling and your chest heaving, it lacked any real bite. "Shut up," you managed to whisper, your voice still incredibly breathy.

Jungwon’s eyes darkened at your words, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across his face. "Make me," he challenged softly.

He didn't give you a chance to respond. Jungwon leaned back down, his mouth dropping to the sensitive skin of your neck, making a quiet gasp escape your lips. His hands left your hair, sliding down to grip your waist tightly, lifting you slightly so you were pulled completely flush against his lap.

The assignment on the floor was completely forgotten. The quiet apartment was filled only with the sound of your frantic breathing and the shifting of fabric as Jungwon completely took control, determined to show you exactly how dangerous he could be when he got you all to himself.

“He’s dangerous when he gets people alone.”

Yunah’s warning echoed sharply in the back of your mind, but it was already too late. You were completely trapped beneath him, and Jungwon was making sure you remembered every single word your friend had said.

"Your friend is pretty smart," Jungwon murmured against your skin, his lips brushing against the highly sensitive spot right beneath your jaw. His voice was a low, vibration that sent a violent shiver cascading down your spine. "She warned you about me, didn't she?"

You gripped the fabric of his shirt tighter, your knuckles turning white as you tried to hold onto reality. "J-Jungwon..."

"But you didn't listen," he whispered, his hands gripping your waist with a sudden, firm intensity that pulled you impossibly closer against him. He shifted, his knee sliding higher between your thighs, completely blocking any thought of escape. "You came over anyway. You sat right here. And now you're looking at me like you want me to ruin you."

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his dark eyes absolutely consuming yours. The teasing, playful enemy from before was entirely gone. In his place was someone dominant, intense, and completely intoxicating.

"So tell me, sweetheart," he rasped, his thumb running over your lower lip, pressing down just enough to force your mouth open slightly. "Are you going to keep fighting me, or are you finally going to admit that Yunah was right?"

"Shut up, Jungwon," you muttered, your voice a mix of embarrassment and utter exhaustion as you tried to scramble off his lap.

But Jungwon wasn't letting you go that easily. The second you tried to shift away, his hands clamped firmly around your waist, his grip anchoring you right back down against him.

"Going somewhere?" he teased, his dark eyes glinting with pure satisfaction as he looked up at you. He tilted his head, his gaze deliberately dropping to your neck—and the smirk on his face widened.

Your hand automatically flew to your throat, your fingers brushing against the sensitive, inflamed skin. You didn't even need a mirror to know what it looked like. The night before had been a blur of overwhelming intensity, and Jungwon had been completely relentless, leaving a dark, undeniable canvas of bruises all along your collarbone and the column of your neck. He had marked you everywhere, making sure anyone who looked at you would know exactly what happened behind closed doors.

"Jungwon, seriously, let me go," you hissed, panic finally setting in as you realized the sheer amount of cover-up makeup you were going to need. "If Yunah sees me walking into the lecture hall looking like this, she’s going to know exactly what happened."

Jungwon slowly let his hands slide from your waist down to your thighs, giving them a slow, possessive squeeze that sent a familiar shiver straight down your spine.

"Let her know," he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, raspy register that always made your knees go weak. He leaned up, his lips brushing right against the darkest, freshest mark on your skin, making you gasp softly. "In fact, I'd prefer it if everyone knew her warning didn't save you at all."

Jungwon, stop," you breathed, though your hands were helpless against his shoulders, failing to actually push him away. The heavy scent of his cologne was completely enveloping you, and the warm friction of his body against yours was making it impossible to think straight.

"Stop?" Jungwon repeated the word like it was a foreign language. He let out a low, dark chuckle, his chest vibrating against yours. "Your mouth is saying stop, sweetheart, but your pulse is telling me a completely different story."

He didn't give you a second to argue. In one smooth, dominant motion, he shifted his weight, trapping you completely beneath him on the couch. The laptop was entirely forgotten on the floor as he pinned your wrists gently but firmly above your head, his dark eyes burning down into yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"You knew exactly what you were doing when you came over here tonight," he whispered, his voice dropping into that raspy, hypnotic register. He leaned down, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your neck, deliberately tracing the exact spots he was about to mark. "Yunah told you I was dangerous. And now you're about to find out exactly why."

You let out a soft, shaky gasp as his hands left your wrists, sliding down to grip your waist with a fierce, possessive hold that completely melted the last of your resistance. You were completely at his mercy, overstimulated by his touch before things had even truly begun.

He didn’t give you a single second to recover. With his hands locking onto your hips, he pulled you impossibly closer, anchoring you to him so securely that every slight movement felt completely magnified. The sheer contrast between his dark, intense focus and the absolute vulnerability of your position was dizzying.

"Look at me," he commanded softly, his voice a low, gravelly friction against the quiet of the room.

When you forced your eyes open, your vision slightly blurred by the sheer weight of the atmosphere, you found him staring down at you with total, unyielding possession. He wanted you to see every single bit of his control. He wanted you to know that there was no running back to the safety of the assignment, no hiding behind the bickering or the rivalry that usually kept a distance between you.

"You're not going anywhere tonight," he murmured against your lips, his hot breath fanning over your skin right before his mouth crashed back down onto yours, harder and more demanding this time.

His fingers dug into the fabric of your clothes, his touch heavy, warm, and entirely unhurried, as if he knew he had all the time in the world to completely undo you. Every point of contact felt heightened, your senses totally overloaded by the rhythm of his breathing, the strength of his grip, and the undeniable reality that the warning had been completely right.

His touch grew heavier, the slow friction of his hands moving along your sides leaving a trail of pure heat in their wake. Jungwon wasn't just taking his time; he was completely dominating the space, ensuring that every small shift of his weight over yours left you entirely breathless.

"Still thinking about the project?" he whispered against your mouth, a low, dangerous vibration that made your eyelids flutter shut. He didn't even wait for an answer, his lips sliding down the line of your jaw to find that sensitive spot on your neck again, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss there that made your fingers tighten desperately into the fabric of his shirt.

The quiet of the apartment was completely gone, replaced by the sound of your own uneven breaths and the rustle of clothing as he shifted, pinning you so securely that the rest of the world completely faded away. Every single boundary you had built up as his enemy was officially gone, completely dissolved under the sheer intensity of his focus.

He pulled back just an inch, his dark eyes dark and completely consuming yours in the dim light. "Tell me you're not going anywhere," he rasped, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek, waiting for you to completely give in.

Jungwon let out a low, dark laugh at your sudden outburst, the vibration of his chest pressing right against yours. Instead of letting you go, his grip on your waist tightened instantly, pinning you flat against the cushions with a sudden, heavy finality that completely cut off any chance of escape.

"fuck you yang jungwon!"

"Watch your mouth, sweetheart," he rasped, leaning down until his lips were practically brushing against yours, his dark eyes absolutely gleaming with dangerous amusement. "You're in no position to be giving me orders right now."

Your defiance only seemed to fuel him. He caught both of your wrists in one of his large hands, securing them firmly above your head against the back of the couch. The sheer strength of his hold made your heart leap into your throat, the reality of how completely trapped you were finally sinking in.

"You want me to let you go?" he murmured, his voice dropping into a dangerously smooth, quiet whisper as his free hand slid slowly up your side, his thumb tracing the heated skin just beneath the edge of your shirt. "After you came all the way over here? After you looked at me like that?"

He leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning over your flushed face as he looked down at your parted lips, utterly unapologetic about the control he had over you.

"We both know you don't actually want to leave," he whispered, his thumb pressing firmly against your lower lip, forcing it open just a fraction. "So stop fighting it."

His fingers migrated higher, sliding up the inside of your thigh, getting dangerously close to your core. "Sweetie, I know you want it. I know you've been thinking about it since that day. My fingers... my cock..."

With a sudden, decisive movement, his fingers slid under the fabric of your panties, finding my clit. I let out a sharp, loud moan.

Jungwon’s eyes flared at the sound, a heavy, dark satisfaction washing over his features. "There it is," he growled softly, his voice thick and entirely stripped of its usual playful edge. He didn't waste a single second, his fingers instantly finding a rhythmic, demanding friction against your hypersensitive skin that made your hips instinctively twitch upward against his hand.

"You're already so wet for me," he whispered, leaning down so his mouth was right against your ear, his hot breath sending a violent shiver down your spine. "Tell me how much you want it. Tell me, sweetheart."

Your hands clutched blindly at the fabric of his shirt, your thoughts completely scattering under the overwhelming stimulation. Every slide of his fingers was deliberate, teasing and punishing you all at once for trying to deny him just moments before. You tried to swallow another moan, but as his thumb pressed firmly against your clit, a fractured, breathless sound escaped your lips, completely giving away how helpless you were under his touch.

Jungwon let out a low grunt, his own breathing turning ragged as he shifted his weight, his thigh locking your legs wide open to give him total, unhindered access. He was completely running the show now, and he wasn't going to stop until he had completely undone you.

"j-jungwon I want it..so bad.."

Jungwon’s movements hitched for a split second at your confession, his dark eyes snapping up to lock onto yours. The raw validation of hearing you finally break, hearing you say those words out loud, sent a visible wave of heat straight through him.

"Good girl," he rasped, his voice deeper and thicker than you had ever heard it before.

He didn't make you beg any longer. His hand slid out from beneath the fabric of your panties, leaving you aching and completely desperate for the sudden loss of contact, but he didn't give you time to complain. In one fluid, dominant motion, he reached down to undo his belt, the sharp click of the metal echoing loudly in the quiet room, freeing his cock.

He pinned your wrists back above your head, his large hand anchoring them effortlessly against the cushions as he shifted his weight, aligning himself directly against you. The friction of his bare heat pressing against your core made your breath hitch, your eyes widening as you realized there was no turning back now.

"Look at me," he commanded softly, his breathing completely ragged as he looked down at your flushed face. "Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart."

With a sudden, heavy thrust, he drove himself completely inside you, burying himself deep within your tight, soaking pussy.

A loud, shattered cry tore from your throat, your head arching back as the sheer, overwhelming fullness of him stretched you open. The sensation was immediate and intense, a violent rush of pleasure that made your entire body tremble beneath his weight. Jungwon let out a low, guttural groan into the crook of your neck, his hips locking tightly against yours for a breathless second as he absorbed just how tight and perfect you felt around him.

"holy shit!- your so fucking tight"He let out a low, gravelly groan right against your skin, his voice completely breathless and rough as he totally lost his usual composure.

He shoved your tank top up roughly, exposing your lace bra. In one smooth move he opened your bra, your breasts spilling free. His large hand covered one immediately, pinching the nipple hard enough to make you gasp.

"you got a tattoo hm? He said, while touching the tattoo that was on your rib "XO?" He said, going faster and harder you could feel every inch of him inside you, The warmth of his breath hit your skin a second before his lips did. He leaned down slowly, his dark hair brushing against your stomach as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss directly over the ink on your rib. A sharp shiver rippled through you at the sudden contact, your fingers automatically tightening in his hair "Definitely dangerous," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and low.

Then he took off his shirt and started kissing your stomach then going up till your breasts with one hand he cups your breast and sucking on the other one leaving a dark red mark, and that made you gasp and playing with your nipples, Your hands locked behind his back, your nails digging viciously into his skin. You wanted to hurt him a little for making you feel this helpless, leaving deep, angry red marks that proved you could be just as dangerous as he was.

"fuck... jungwon..I'm gonna...ah... come" you said voice shaky and low.

"Yes, baby, come for me," he whispered, his voice a rough, breathless growl as he picked up the pace, his fingers deliberately finding your center to push you completely over the edge.

The sudden shift in his pace, combined with the deliberate, agonizing friction of his fingers, pushed you completely over the precipice.

Your head snapped back against the cushions as a breathless, fractured sound was wrecked from your throat. Everything in the room seemed to blur into a haze of white heat—the pulsing bass of the music, the cool air on your skin, and the burning weight of him over you. Your entire body went rigid, your toes curling as a sudden, intense wave of contractions rippled through you, your walls tightly clamping down around him in a desperate, involuntary rhythm.

Your fingers locked into his back, your nails digging deep into his skin, carving raw, angry marks across his spine as you clung to him for anchors.

Jungwon let out a low, gravelly groan right against your neck, his muscles locking instantly as he felt the tight, pulsing squeeze of your climax engulfing him. The absolute loss of control was mutual, shattering whatever restraint he had left as he buried his face in your shoulder, completely undone.

"I'm close, I'm gonna come too," Jungwon ground out, a low, fractured groan ripping from his chest as his grip on your hips tightened to a bruising hold.

A sharp, breathless gasp was forced from his lungs as he completely froze, a sudden, heavy wave of warmth pooling deep inside you as he finally let himself unravel.

"Ah fuck, baby," Jungwon swore softly, his voice completely wrecked and breathless. He stayed heavily pinned on top of you and inside you, his entire weight sinking into the cushions as his chest rumbled against yours with every deep, ragged breath. He refused to pull away just yet, shielding you from the rest of the room as the adrenaline slowly began to fade.

Before you could even protest, his hand moved from your waist, his grip firm and unyielding as he physically guided you over onto your stomach.

"Change of plans," he muttered, his voice a low, gravelly command against the back of your neck.

Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled your hips up, leaving you completely arched and exposed beneath him. The sudden vulnerability of the position made your heart hammer against your ribs, your fingers instantly tangling back into the bed cushions for support. Jungwon didn't hesitate; he settled his heavy weight right behind you, his hands locking onto your hips to anchor you firmly in place before driving straight back inside you, the sudden, overwhelming fullness making you catch your breath as the heat between you flared right back up to a fever pitch.

Jungwon started slow, each deep, deliberate stroke sending a sharp, agonizing wave of heat straight to your core. The agonizingly slow pace was pure torture, pushing you past your limit until you couldn't take it anymore.

"Faster, Jungwon, faster!" you gasped out, the demand wrecked from your throat.

He didn't need to be told twice. A low, dark growl rippled from his chest as his hands gripped your hips with a bruising force, his pace immediately shifting into something incredibly fast and hard. Your breath caught as you reached down, your fingers finding your center to rub against yourself in a frantic, desperate rhythm. The double friction was entirely overwhelming, blurring the room into a haze of white heat as Jungwon drove you both right over the edge.

A broken moan tore from your throat as you squirted hard, soaking his cock, his pelvis, and the sheets beneath you.

Slapping and moaning sounds, loud sound and wet sound filled the room.

Jungwon pulled out abruptly, the sudden loss of warmth making you gasp as he instantly gripped your hips and flipped you over onto your back. Before you could even blink or catch your breath under his heavy weight, he replaced himself with two of his fingers, driving them deep inside you in a fast, relentless rhythm that kept you completely unraveled.

"Come on, good girl, let it all out," Jungwon murmured, his voice a dark, breathless purr as he increased the pace, his fingers moving in a relentless rhythm that had you screaming his name. The intensity was entirely overwhelming, sending you crashing over the edge for the third time as your legs began to shake uncontrollably.

He finally withdrew, but before you could fully recover, he pressed his slick fingers against your lips. "Suck it," he commanded quietly. You complied, your breath hitching as you wrapped your lips around them, the taste of your own arousal filling your mouth before he shifted his weight down, burying his face between your thighs to completely consume you with soft kisses and a devastatingly slow, wet heat.

He slipped his fingers back inside you, switching to slow, lazy thrusts while his tongue delivered soft, soothing licks around your clit, careful not to overwhelm your sensitive skin as the intense heat slowly began to settle.

Another wave of heat washed over you, and jungwon swallowing every drop of it.

"You taste so good," he murmured against your skin, licking you one last time before finally pulling away. With a heavy, exhausted sigh, he laid down flat beside you and immediately wrapped an arm around your waist buried his face in your hair, pulling you back against him until your spine hit his bare, warm chest.

"You were such a good girl tonight, hm?" Jungwon murmured, his voice incredibly low, deep, and rough with sleep as his grip tightened around your waist.

You flushed, burying your face in the pillow to hide the heat rushing to your cheeks. "Shut up!" you grumbled, swatting weakly at his arm. "How am I even supposed to walk to college tomorrow?!".

"Don't worry," he murmured, his lips brushing warm against your skin as he spoke. "If you can't walk, I'll just have to carry you. But for now, just sleep."

You let out a soft, defeated sigh, the sheer exhaustion finally catching up to you as the adrenaline completely faded. Surrounded by his heavy warmth and the quiet hum of the room, your eyes fluttered shut, finally drifting off to sleep with his arms locked securely around you.

The harsh morning light cutting through the blinds was a brutal wake-up call, immediately chasing away the last lingering warmth of the night. You woke up with a sharp ache in your muscles, your body feeling entirely heavy and drained. For a second, everything felt quiet—until you tried to shift and realized Jungwon’s arm was still locked like an iron vise around your waist, his bare chest pressed flush against your back.

Panic hit you all at once as the reality of the clock rushed back. College. You had class in less than an hour.

You tried to carefully pry his fingers off you, but the moment you moved, his grip only tightened, pulling you right back against him with an annoyed, sleepy grunt.

"Stop moving," Jungwon mumbled, his voice incredibly deep and rough from sleep, his face burying further into your shoulder.

"Jungwon, let go," you hissed, swatting at his arm. "We’re going to be late. And I swear, if anyone at campus sees what you did to my neck—"

He cracked one eye open, a slow, incredibly smug smirk spreading across his lips as he looked down at you. He didn't look tired at all; he looked completely satisfied.

"I told you last night, didn't I?" he murmured, his thumb lazily tracing the edge of your hip, sending a reluctant shiver down your spine. "If you can't walk, I'll just carry you. Let them look."

"Then you'd better start lifting weights, because I'm not letting you carry me across the quad," you fired back, though your voice lacked any real bite under the weight of your exhaustion.

With a final, desperate surge of energy, you managed to wriggle out from under his heavy arm and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. The moment your feet hit the cold floor, a sharp ache shot through your thighs, making your knees buckle slightly. You caught yourself on the nightstand, biting your lip to suppress a groan.

Behind you, you heard the rustle of the sheets and the sound of Jungwon sitting up, that quiet, knowing chuckle vibrating through the air again.

"Need a hand?" he asked, his tone dripping with mock innocence.

"Shut up," you muttered, throwing a pillow back over your shoulder without looking.

You forced yourself to stand straight and limped toward the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a firm click. Turning on the faucet, you splashed freezing water onto your face, trying to shake off the lingering haze of the night. But when you finally looked up and wiped the water from your eyes, your breath caught.

The harsh, fluorescent bathroom light spared no details. Scattered across the sensitive skin of your collarbone and stretching up the side of your neck were deep, unmistakable dark marks—vivid reminders of exactly how relentless he had been a few hours ago.

You leaned closer to the glass, gently touching the bruised skin. There was absolutely no way a standard swipe of concealer was going to hide this.

You grabbed the edge of the sink, letting out a frustrated groan. A normal t-shirt wouldn't cut it, and it was far too warm outside for a heavy winter scarf.

You unlocked the door and marched back into the bedroom, completely ignoring the ache in your legs. Jungwon was leaning back against the headboard, running a hand through his messy bedhead, looking entirely too attractive and relaxed for someone who had just ruined your morning wardrobe.

"I need a hoodie. Right now," you demanded, crossing your arms. "And not just any hoodie. Your thickest, highest-collared one."

Jungwon’s eyes drifted from your face down to the vivid marks on your neck, his smirk returning full force. "Is that so?" He swung his legs out of bed, completely unbothered by his bare chest, and walked over to his closet. He rummaged through the hangers for a second before pulling out an oversized, heavy black hoodie that smelled entirely like him—mint and warm cedar.

He walked back and tossed it to you. You caught it, immediately pulling it over your head. The fabric swallowed you completely, the collar resting perfectly against your jawline, successfully hiding every single mark.

"There," Jungwon murmured, stepping closer until he was standing right over you, his eyes dark and satisfied as he looked at you wearing his clothes. "Problem solved. Now you look exactly like you belong to me."

You opened your mouth to fire back a sarcastic retort, but the sheer possessiveness in his voice caught in your throat. Before you could say a word, he reached out, his thumb gently brushing against your bottom lip one last time, a silent promise that this rivalry was far from over.

"I'll make breakfast" he said heading to the kitchen began to cook breakfast still shirtless, only wearing grey sweatpants.

You lean your back against the cool kitchen counter, crossing your arms inside the giant sleeves of his hoodie as you watch him. The familiar, comforting sound of eggs sizzling in the pan fills the quiet apartment, mixed with the rich aroma of brewing coffee.

Jungwon doesn’t even look up from the stove, but a knowing, relaxed smirk tugs at the corner of his lips anyway. He casually moves the pan with one hand, his shoulder muscles flexing slightly under the warm morning light filtering through the kitchen window.

"Like what you see?" he asks, his voice still carrying that deep, gravelly texture from waking up.

You roll your eyes, though you can’t quite stop the small smile from tugging at your lips. "I'm just making sure you don't burn down the kitchen. Some of us actually want to survive long enough to make it to our morning lectures."

Jungwon scoffs softly, turning off the burner. He slides the food onto two plates before finally turning around to face you completely. He leans his hips back against the counter right next to yours, holding out a plate to you. Up close, you can still see the faint, faint scratches along his collarbone from last night—a quiet contrast to how domestic he looks right now, standing shirtless in his grey sweatpants, handing you breakfast.

"Have a little faith in me," he murmurs, his dark eyes locking onto yours as he takes a step closer into your space, completely trapping you between his body and the counter.

You take the warm plate from his hands, but you don't back down, holding his gaze even as he crowds you against the counter. The contrast is dizzying—he looks completely relaxed, yet the sheer physical presence of him standing so close makes the kitchen feel incredibly small.

"Faith has to be earned, Yang," you reply, your voice dropping a bit as you look up at him through your lashes.

Jungwon lets out a low, amused hum, his eyes dropping to the way his oversized collar shifts against your neck, completely concealing the marks he left there. He reaches out with his free hand, his knuckles lazily brushing against the heavy fabric of the hoodie right over your collarbone.

"I think I earned plenty of credit last night," he murmurs, his thumb catching the edge of the collar and tugging it down just a fraction of an inch, revealing a glimpse of the dark, bruised skin beneath. His eyes darken with a flash of that familiar, intense satisfaction. "Don't you think?"

Your breath hitches slightly at the sudden warmth of his fingers against your skin, but you force a sarcastic chuckle, nudging his bare hip with your own to get him to back up. "I think you're going to make us late. Eat your food."

He doesn't budge an inch, but he does let out a soft laugh, finally taking a bite of his own food while keeping his dark eyes locked onto yours.

Instead of sliding past him, you stay exactly where you are, anchoring yourself against the counter as you take a quiet bite of your breakfast. The food is surprisingly good, and the heavy warmth of his coffee mug between your hands helps chase away the last of your exhaustion.

Jungwon notices that you aren't running away, and the smugness in his expression softens into something much more genuine. He eats quietly beside you, the comfortable silence stretching between you as the morning sun climbs higher, casting long, warm shadows across the kitchen floor.

"Seriously though," Jungwon says after a moment, breaking the quiet. He sets his empty plate down on the counter and turns his body fully toward you, leaning one hand on the surface next to your hip. His eyes trace your face, completely serious now. "Are you actually going to be okay to walk today? Because I can call a ride for us."

You look up from your mug, caught a little off guard by the sudden shift from his usual teasing to actual concern.

"I'll survive," you say, nudging his bare side with your elbow. "I just might have to take the stairs a little slower than usual. It's your fault anyway."

"I'm not apologizing," he murmurs instantly, a lazy, dark grin flashing across his face again. He reaches out, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck—careful not to press too hard on the fresh marks—and gently tilts your head up. "You liked it too much for me to ever be sorry about it."

Your breath hitches as his fingers tighten slightly at the back of your neck, his thumb tracing the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. The playful, teasing atmosphere in the kitchen instantly shifts, growing thick and heavy as he pulls you just a fraction of an inch closer.

Jungwon’s eyes drop to your lips, his gaze darkening with an intensity that makes your heart hammer against your ribs. He isn't rushing, completely aware of the effect he has on you as he hovers just a breath away.

"Still so stubborn," he murmurs, his deep voice vibrating right against your skin.

Before you can fire back a reply, Jungwon tilts your chin up and closes the remaining distance, his lips pressing firmly against yours.

The kiss is deep, slow, and possessive—a stark contrast to the chaotic, high-intensity rounds from the night before. This is deliberate and intoxicating, his lips moving against yours with a heavy, lazy warmth that completely melts away any remaining thoughts of your morning lecture.

You let out a soft, defeated sigh against his mouth, your hands automatically rising to rest against his bare, warm chest. The smooth muscles of his shoulders flex beneath your palms as he leans deeper into the kiss, his free hand leaving your neck to wrap securely around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his grey sweatpants. He drinks in every quiet sound you make, completely consuming your senses until your knees feel weak all over again.

Jungwon slowly breaks the kiss, his lips lingering for one final, frustratingly gentle second against yours before he pulls back. He rests his forehead against yours for a brief moment, his breathing a little heavy as a quiet, breathless chuckle escapes him.

"If I don't stop now, we're definitely not making it to campus," he murmurs, his dark eyes fixed on your flushed face before he finally lets his hands drop from your waist.

A whirlwind of a half-hour later, the kitchen is cleared, and the reality of the morning has officially caught up.

You’re standing by the front door, your heavy college bag slung over one shoulder. You adjust the oversized sleeves of Jungwon's black hoodie, pulling the thick collar up a little higher to completely shield your neck from the crisp morning air—and from any prying eyes on campus.

Jungwon stands right next to you, finally dressed in a clean jacket and jeans, though his hair is still effortlessly messy. He reaches for the doorknob, but stops, turning his head to look down at you. His eyes scan your face, checking to see if you're holding up alright after the intense physical toll of the night before.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice back to its usual calm, steady tone, though there's a private, knowing glint in his eyes that only you can recognize. "Remember, if you start limping halfway through the quad, the offer to carry you is still on the table."

You roll your eyes, tossing your head back with a dramatic groan. "If you carry me across the quad, I will actually fake my own death. I mean it. Open the door."

Jungwon scoffs softly, but that familiar, smug smirk spreads across his face as he twists the lock and pushes the door open. The bright, crisp morning air instantly hits you, a sharp contrast to the warm, heavy atmosphere of the apartment you’re leaving behind.

As you step out onto the walkway, your thighs immediately remind you of exactly why you were panicking earlier. You stiffen slightly, forcing your stride to look completely normal, even though every step takes a ridiculous amount of concentration.

Jungwon steps out right behind you, pulling the door shut until it clicks locked. He doesn't say anything, but he easily matches your slower, more deliberate pace, stepping in right beside you. His shoulder brushes against yours as you walk down the path toward the street.

Even without looking at him, you can feel his eyes on you, watching the way you move with an amused, protective focus. He reaches down, his fingers casually brushing against yours in the space between you, a silent, brief squeeze before he pulls his hand back into his pocket.

"The bus leaves in five minutes," he says, his tone completely casual now, acting like any normal classmate as you head toward the main road. "We're going to have to walk just a little faster."

You stop dead in your tracks, glaring at him with pure disbelief. "I can't fucking walk fast," you hiss under your breath, your voice a sharp, furious whisper so no one else on the street hears you. "My legs are literally shaking, Jungwon. If you try to make me run for a bus, I will collapse on the pavement."

Jungwon stops a step ahead of you, turning around with his hands still shoved lazily in his pockets. When he sees the genuine exhaustion on your face—and the slight, uncontrollable tremble in your knees—the teasing glint in his eyes completely vanishes, replaced by a soft, relenting sigh.

"Alright, alright. Chill," he murmurs, stepping back until he's standing right in front of you.

Before you can ask what he's doing, he grabs your wrist and pulls you gently off the main sidewalk, nudging you toward the low concrete wall of a nearby planter. "Sit. We’re missing the bus."

"What? But the lecture—"

"Forget the lecture for a second," he interrupts, pulling out his phone and tapping the screen with his thumb. "I’m calling a car. It’ll be here in four minutes."

He pockets his phone and leans his hip against the wall right next to where you're sitting, looking down at you. A slow, incredibly soft smirk returns to his face as he looks at how small you look swallowed up in his oversized hoodie.

"See? I told you I'd take care of it," he says, his voice dropping into that low, quiet register that makes your chest tighten. "You just have to learn to ask for help."

The car ride was a blur of quiet music and the soft hum of the heater, giving your aching muscles a much-needed break. But the moment the car pulled up to the main gates of the campus, the reality of the situation rushed back with full force.

The courtyard was buzzing with students moving between buildings, laughing, drinking coffee, and reviewing notes.

You opened the door and carefully stepped out onto the asphalt. As your feet hit the ground, you automatically reached up to tug the thick collar of Jungwon’s hoodie all the way up to your chin, ensuring every single dark mark was completely hidden from the world.

Jungwon got out from the other side, slinging his bag over his shoulder. The second his feet touched the campus pavement, his entire demeanor shifted. The lazy, shirtless guy who had been cooking breakfast in grey sweatpants a few hours ago was gone; in his place was the sharp, effortlessly cool student everyone knew.

He didn't walk right next to you, keeping a subtle, unspoken distance of a few paces so it wouldn't look like you arrived together—but he didn't leave you behind, either. He adjusted his stride, slowing his usual fast pace to match your careful, slightly stiff steps as you entered the crowded quad.

As you walked past a group of classmates, one of your friends noticed you and waved. "Hey! You're cutting it close today. And is that... a new hoodie? It's huge on you."

Before you could freeze up or stutter, Jungwon casually walked past, his shoulder brushing yours just enough for you to feel his warmth.

"She borrowed it because she was freezing," Jungwon threw out carelessly to the group, his voice smooth and entirely nonchalant as he kept walking toward the lecture hall. He didn't look back, but as he pulled his hands into his pockets, he glanced at you through the reflection of the glass doors ahead, a dark, private flash of satisfaction in his eyes.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling, quickening your step just enough to follow him into the building, fully aware of the heavy secret wrapped tightly around your neck.

As you reached the top of the concrete steps leading into the main building, a familiar voice cut through the morning chatter of the hallway.

"Hey! Wait up!"

You turned your head slightly to see Yunah jogging up the steps, her laptop bag tucked securely under her arm. Her eyes scanned you quickly, instantly locking onto the massive, oversized black fabric swallowing your frame. A knowing, incredibly sharp look flashed across her face the second she recognized the distinctive mint and cedar scent wafting off the hoodie.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up," Yunah greeted you, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she fell into step right beside you. She leaned in close, lowering her voice so it wouldn't carry over the noise of the hallway. "And what, exactly, is this? You look like you're wearing a tent."

Before you could think of a smooth lie, Yunah’s eyes drifted to the way you were holding the thick collar tightly against your jawline. Her smirk widened, her eyes sparkling with immediate suspicion.

A few paces ahead, Jungwon heard her voice and slowed down just a fraction, pulling out his phone as if he were checking a notification, though his ears were completely tuned into the two of you.

"It's just cold today," you muttered quickly, your face heating up as you tried to walk as normally as possible despite the stubborn ache in your thighs.

Yunah let out a quiet, skeptical laugh, nudging your shoulder with hers. "Right, 'cold.' In late May. And I suppose that's why you're walking like a grandma, too?"

"Shut up, Yunah, before I kill you," you hissed quickly, shutting her up by practically shoving your hand over her mouth.

Yunah muffled a laugh against your palm, her eyes crinkling with pure amusement at how fiercely you were panicking. You quickly pulled your hand back, glancing around the crowded hallway to make sure no one else had noticed your sudden outburst. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, the heat rushing up your neck making the thick fabric of the hoodie feel ten times warmer than it actually was.

A few steps ahead of you, Jungwon suddenly let out a sharp, quiet cough—obviously hiding a laugh of his own. He didn't turn around, but you could see the slight twitch of his shoulders as he raised his phone higher, pretending to be deeply invested in whatever was on his screen.

Yunah brushed a stray hair out of her face, leaning back into your space with an absolute look of victory. "Okay, okay, I'm shutting up," she whispered, raising her hands in mock surrender. "But you're a terrible liar. Next time, at least pick a hoodie that doesn't smell like a walking cologne commercial."

You bit your lip, desperately trying to keep a straight face as the three of you finally reached the heavy wooden doors of the lecture hall.

Jungwon pulled the door open first, casually holding it back with his forearm. As you and Yunah slipped past him into the air-conditioned room, his dark eyes caught yours for a fleeting, intense second. The smug smirk was back, completely unfiltered now that Yunah was walking ahead to find seats.

"Watch your step," he murmured under his breath, his voice dropping into that low, private register meant only for you.

The two-hour lecture felt like an absolute eternity. Sitting still in those hard, cramped auditorium seats did absolutely no favors for your aching muscles, and by the time the professor finally dismissed the class, you were more than ready to get out of there.

The heavy rustle of backpacks zipping and chairs folding filled the room. Yunah stood up first, stretching her arms above her head before giving you another one of her fiercely perceptive looks.

"I'm heading straight to the cafeteria to grab an iced coffee before my next seminar," Yunah said, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She eyed the way you carefully gathered your notebook, taking your sweet time to stand up. "Are you coming, or do you need a few more minutes to... recover?"

"Go ahead," you muttered, giving her a pointed look. "I'll catch up with you later."

Yunah chuckled, giving you a playful wave as she blended into the crowd of students filtering out the main doors.

You waited until the row cleared out a bit before finally standing up, a quiet sigh escaping your lips as your stiff muscles protested the movement. You adjusted the heavy black hoodie, once again pulling the thick collar up to ensure the marks on your neck were perfectly hidden from the lingering students.

As you stepped out into the aisle, you realized you weren't the only one who had lingered behind.

Jungwon was leaning casually against the desk at the very back of the lecture hall, his bag slung carelessly over one shoulder. He had been waiting. The moment his dark eyes locked onto you walking down the steps, a slow, familiar smirk spread across his face.

"Survied the lecture?" he asked, his voice dropping into that quiet, private tone as you reached the bottom of the steps where he stood.

He didn't even wait for you to answer. Jungwon pushed himself off the desk, stepping directly into your path so you were forced to stop right in front of him.

The lecture hall had almost completely emptied out, leaving only the faint hum of the air conditioning and the distant chatter from the hallway outside. Up close, away from the eyes of your classmates, the effortless, cool-student act he’d been putting on for the last two hours completely dissolved.

His eyes dropped, deliberately tracing the way you were still practically buried alive in his heavy fabric.

"You looked distracted the whole time," he murmured, tilting his head with a lazy, knowing grin. He reached out, his fingers hooking under the oversized cuff of his own sleeve where it completely hid your hand, tugging you just an inch closer. "Were you thinking about this morning? Or last night?"

"I was thinking about how much I hate these chairs," you shot back, though your voice lacked any real bite. You glanced past his shoulder toward the open doors, your heart doing a familiar little flip. "Yunah is waiting for me at the cafeteria. Let go."

"Let her wait," Jungwon countered softly.

Instead of letting go, his hand slid up the heavy sleeve, his warm palm settling against your forearm through the fabric. He leaned in, his mint-and-cedar scent instantly clouding your senses all over again as his lips brushed right against the shell of your ear.

"Walk with me to the library," he whispered, his grip tightening just enough to make your knees feel weak for the second time today. "Unless you're still too sore to keep up."

You pull back just enough to look him in the eye, raising an eyebrow despite the sudden rush of heat his proximity always brings.

"And why should I come with you?" you ask, your voice a quiet challenge. "Besides, I don't want her to wait for me. I promised I'd catch up."

Jungwon doesn’t look even remotely bothered by the rejection. Instead, his smirk only deepens, a lazy, confident glint flashing in his dark eyes. He slowly lets his hand slide down your arm, his fingers trailing off the heavy sleeve before he shoves both hands back into his pockets. He leans his head back slightly, looking down at you through his lashes.

"Because," he murmurs, taking a deliberate, slow step closer until his chest is almost brushing against yours, completely blocking your path to the door. "If you go sit across from Yunah in a brightly lit cafeteria right now, she’s going to keep staring at you until you slip up. You're a terrible liar under pressure."

He tilts his head, his eyes dropping pointedly to the high collar of the hoodie you’re still clutching tightly.

"The library is quiet. It's dark in the back rows. And more importantly..." He leans in just a fraction closer, his voice dropping to a rough, teasing whisper right against your jawline. "...I'm the only one who already knows exactly what you're hiding under there. You don't have to pretend to walk normal around me."

Jungwon lets out a low, breathless laugh, the sound vibrating right against your skin. He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his dark eyes brimming with absolute amusement at your stubbornness.

"What do people usually do at the library?" he asks, his voice thick with a lazy, teasing innocence that doesn't match the heavy look in his eyes at all. "We study. You have exams coming up, don't you? I’m just being a good boyfriend, making sure you actually pass your courses."

You scoff, giving his chest a firm, albeit weak, shove. "Since when do you care about my study habits, Yang?"

"I always care," he murmurs, not moving an inch from the shove. Instead, he reaches up, his fingers gently brushing yours away from the heavy collar of the hoodie. His hand lingers there, his warm thumb lightly tracing the edge of your jawline, his touch surprisingly soft compared to his intense gaze.

"We'll find a corner in the back," he whispers, his eyes dropping to your lips for a fleeting, heavy second before lifting back to yours. "I'll let you review your notes in peace. And if you get tired... you can use my shoulder as a pillow. No one will bother us back there."

He tilts his head, the sharp edge of his smirk returning. "Sound like a better plan than getting interrogated by Yunah over an iced coffee?"

Jungwon’s thumb instantly freezes against your jawline. The smug, lazy smirk on his face vanishes, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated disbelief.

"You're going to what?" he asks, his voice dropping a full octave.

"I'm bringing Yunah," you repeat, a triumphant smile finally breaking onto your face as you watch his perfect composure completely crack. "She wants iced coffee, the library has a cafe on the first floor, and I'm not ditching her. You said it yourself—I need to study. We can all study together."

Jungwon stares at you for a long, quiet moment, his dark eyes narrowing as he realizes you aren't joking. He lets out a sharp, frustrated breath that sounds half like a scoff and half like a laugh, finally dropping his hand from your face. He rubs the back of his neck, looking away for a second as if asking the universe why you have to be so incredibly stubborn.

"You're unbelievable," he mutters, turning his gaze back to you. The intense, private tension that had been filling the empty lecture hall completely evaporates, replaced by his usual annoyed-but-amused fondness. "We are absolutely not 'all studying together.' If she sits at a table with us, she is going to spend the entire two hours trying to figure out why you're wearing my clothes and why you can't sit down properly."

"Then you better be on your best behavior, Yang," you tease, adjusting your bag and finally stepping past him toward the exit.

Jungwon groans softly, but he immediately falls into step right behind you. As you reach the heavy doors of the lecture hall, he reaches over your shoulder to push them open for you, his chest brushing your back for just a split second.

"Fine," he whispers roughly in your ear, a dangerous, low promise in his tone. "Bring her. But the second she leaves to go to the restroom, you're mine."

You don't even give him the satisfaction of a reply. Instead, you just flash him a smug, parting grin, turn on your heel, and head straight down the bustling corridor toward the cafeteria.

Every step is still a deliberate battle against your sore muscles, but the pure victory of leaving Jungwon standing there, thoroughly frustrated, gives you a sudden burst of energy. You can practically feel his intense, burning gaze locked onto the back of your head—or more accurately, onto the back of his oversized hoodie—until you turn the corner and blend into the heavy crowd of students.

The campus cafeteria is loud and chaotic, filled with the clinking of porcelain, the hiss of the espresso machine, and a thick wall of chatter. You scan the crowded room, shielding yourself from the draft of the air conditioning, until you spot a familiar head of hair near the window.

Yunah is already sitting at a small two-person table, scrollling through her phone with a sweating plastic cup of iced coffee resting in front of her.

The moment you pull out the chair opposite her and carefully ease yourself onto the plastic seat—suppressing a tiny wince as your thighs hit the surface—Yunah looks up. Her eyes dart from your face down to the massive cuffs of the hoodie resting on the table, a slow, incredibly sharp grin spreading across her face.

"Well, well," Yunah says, sliding her phone away and leaning forward on her elbows, completely locked in. "Look who survived the lecture. Where’s your shadow?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say smoothly, picking up the extra napkin on the table and pretending to be deeply invested in wiping a nonexistent speck of dirt off your hands. "And he's not my shadow."

"Right, and I'm the dean of this college," Yunah fires back, taking a long, loud sip of her iced coffee through the straw. She doesn't break eye contact for a single second. "You two walked into the lecture hall looking like you were trying to play a game of secret agents, and you've been clutching that collar like your life depends on it since 9:00 AM."

She leans closer across the small table, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "So, are you going to tell me why you smell like a luxury department store men’s cologne section, or do I have to start guessing?"

"I told you, I was freezing," you mutter, finally looking up and trying to give her your best deadpan expression. You lean back against the chair, but a sharp ache radiates through your lower back, causing your left eyebrow to twitch slightly.

Yunah catches it instantly. Her eyes widen in pure, unadulterated realization. She looks at your stiff posture, then down at the giant hoodie, and then back to your burning face.

"Oh my god," she gasps, clapping a hand over her mouth to keep from squealing out loud. "Oh my god. You didn't just borrow it because you were cold. You didn't even go home last night, did you?"

Before you can scramble for a lie to save your life, the shadow of a tall figure falls over your table.

"Is this seat taken?"

You look up, your heart jumping into your throat. Jungwon is standing right there at the edge of the table, his backpack slung over one shoulder and a totally blank, innocent expression on his face. He doesn't even wait for an invitation; he casually pulls up a stray chair from the next table and slides it right between you and Yunah, completely crashing your private conversation.

Your eyes widen in sheer panic, and before Jungwon can fully sit down, you shoot Yunah a frantic, wide-eyed look. You violently shake your head just a fraction of an inch, biting your lower lip in a silent, desperate plea that translates to: If you say a single word, I will actually end you.

Yunah catches the signal instantly. Her eyes dance with pure, evil amusement, but she manages to swallow her laugh, smoothly clearing her throat as Jungwon drops his bag onto the floor.

"Not taken at all, Yang," Yunah says, her voice suddenly shifting into a perfectly casual, innocent tone that would fool anyone who hadn't just seen her clapping her hand over her mouth. "We were just... talking about the upcoming English exam. The syllabus is brutal."

Jungwon slides into the chair, his dark eyes moving slowly from Yunah’s face over to yours. He isn't stupid. He clearly catches the lingering tension in the air and the bright red flush creeping up your cheeks, but he plays along anyway.

"Right. English," Jungwon murmurs, a slow, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he leans his elbows on the table, deliberately invading your space. He looks directly at you, his gaze heavy and full of silent mischief. "I heard the second-round testing is supposed to be really tough this year. You look like you're already feeling the pressure."

You glare at him, desperately trying to keep your hands steady under the table. "I'm handling it just fine," you mutter, giving him a pointed look to back off.

"Are you?" Jungwon asks softly, his tone completely smooth as he stretches his legs out under the small table.

Before you can react, his sneaker brushes against yours, his long leg casually pressing against your aching thigh beneath the safety of the table. You stiffen, your breath hitching as he gives your leg a firm, deliberate squeeze through his jeans—a silent reminder of exactly who put you in this state, right under Yunah's unsuspecting nose.

You quickly clear your throat, desperately trying to ignore the firm, warm pressure of Jungwon’s leg against yours under the table.

"Yunah, we were actually just about to head over to the library to study," you say, your voice a little higher than usual as you fight to keep your composure. You look at her with wide, pleading eyes, silently begging her to say yes. "Do you wanna come with us? We can find a big table in the back."

The moment the words leave your mouth, you feel the pressure against your leg vanish as Jungwon completely freezes.

Yunah looks between the two of you, her sharp eyes taking in your desperate expression and the sudden, subtle tension stiffening Jungwon’s shoulders. She takes a slow, deliberate sip of her iced coffee, letting the silence stretch out just to torture you a little longer.

A wicked, knowing grin slowly spreads across her face. She knows exactly what you’re trying to do—using her as a human shield to keep Jungwon on his best behavior.

"Oh, the library?" Yunah asks, her tone dripping with mock innocence. She looks over at Jungwon, whose dark eyes are now fixed on her with a quiet, lethal intensity that practically screams say no.

"Yeah, you know, for the exam," you press on quickly, nodding your head.

"Man, I would love to," Yunah says, letting out a dramatic, heavy sigh as she slides her empty coffee cup away. "But I actually just remembered I have to go meet Professor Min during his office hours to hand in that late assignment. Such a bummer."

You look at her in pure betrayal.

"But you guys should definitely go," Yunah adds, standing up and slinging her laptop bag over her shoulder. She leans down slightly, giving you a sharp, parting wink before looking at Jungwon. "Have fun 'studying' in the back rows, Yang. Make sure she actually hits her target score."

"Don't worry," Jungwon murmurs, his smooth, smug composure returning in an instant as he looks up at her. "I'll make sure she gets exactly what she deserves."

You stare at Yunah’s retreating back, your jaw slightly slack in pure, unadulterated betrayal. Some best friend, you think, mentally planning the exact details of her untimely demise. She didn’t just throw you to the wolves; she handed Jungwon the leash, waved goodbye, and went to buy a front-row seat to the aftermath.

The heavy, chaotic noise of the cafeteria seems to fade into the background the exact moment Yunah disappears through the glass doors, leaving you completely exposed.

"Well," Jungwon’s smooth, low voice breaks the silence right beside you. "That was nice of her."

You slowly turn your head to look at him, your glare lethal enough to stop a man's heart. "You paid her off. You had to have. There is no way she just abandoned me like that."

Jungwon lets out a soft, delighted chuckle, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks entirely pleased with how the universe is operating today. "I didn't pay anyone. Yunah is just a very smart girl who knows when she's crashing a party."

He leans forward again, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a terrifyingly heavy focus. He reaches across the small table, his fingers wrapping around your wrist where it's buried in the thick cuff of his hoodie, his thumb lightly stroking the sensitive skin of your inner wrist.

"Now," he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave, completely stripping away the playful student act. "Are we going to sit here in the bright lights where everyone can see how flushed your face is, or are you finally going to let me take you to the back of the library?"

Knowing you are absolutely, undeniably done, you let out a long, defeated sigh that deflates your entire shoulders. There is no escape route left. Your human shield has abandoned you, your legs are still completely useless, and the guy sitting across from you has a look in his eyes that says he’s won the lottery.

"Fine," you mutter, looking down at his hand still wrapped tightly around your wrist. "But we are actually going to open a textbook. I’m not failing this exam because of you."

"Deal," Jungwon answers instantly, though the dangerous thrill in his voice tells you he’s barely listening to the part about the textbook.

He lets go of your wrist, standing up in one smooth, effortless motion and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Instead of walking ahead this time, he stays right there, waiting for you to move.

You grip the edge of the table, carefully pushing yourself up. Your thighs immediately protest, a sharp, familiar ache shooting through your muscles that makes your breath hitch. You reflexively reach up to check the high collar of the hoodie, making sure the dark, hidden marks are completely obscured from view.

Jungwon notices the slight tremor in your frame. Before you can even take a step, he moves in close, his broad shoulder subtly brushing against yours to give you some leverage. He doesn't touch you awkwardly where anyone could see, but his body is positioned perfectly to shield your slightly stiff, careful stride as you leave the cafeteria.

"You're doing great, sweetgirl," he murmurs so quietly under his breath it's almost lost in the crowd, his warm breath fanning the crown of your head. "Just a short walk across the quad. Then you can sit down for as long as you want."

"Fine, but we’re stopping at the campus cart first," you say, trying to regain a shred of control as you walk out into the fresh air of the quad. "I need caffeine if I'm going to survive you and English syntax. Grab two coffees. And don't take too much time, I want to get a spot before the third-floor alcoves fill up."

Jungwon gives you a lazy, mock-salute, clearly amused by your sudden attempt to take charge. "Two coffees. Black for me, right?"

"Whatever has the most caffeine," you mutter, pulling the hoodie collar tightly back up to your chin as a light May breeze sweeps across the lawn.

"Stay right here. Don't move an inch," he orders softly, pointing a finger at you before turning toward the small coffee kiosk near the library steps.

You lean back against a concrete pillar, letting your sore muscles rest for a fleeting moment. True to his word, Jungwon doesn't take long at all. He expertly cuts through the short line, uses his phone to tap-pay, and is back within two minutes flat, balancing two steaming paper cups in his hands.

"See? Record time," he says, stepping back into your space and handing you one of the cups. The rich, roasted scent of the coffee temporarily overpowers the mint and cedar wafting off your collar.

As your fingers brush against his taking the cup, his eyes darken with that familiar, intense focus. He glances toward the heavy glass doors of the library just a few feet away.

"Now," Jungwon murmurs, his voice dropping into that low, private register that makes your pulse skip. "Let's go find that corner."

You take a small, cautious sip of the hot coffee, letting the caffeine instantly hit your system before giving him a slight, resigned nod. "Mhm. Lead the way, Yang."

Jungwon’s smirk returns, full and entirely satisfied. He pushes open the heavy glass doors of the library, holding it with his back so you can slip inside ahead of him. The sudden shift from the bright, breezy quad to the quiet, climate-controlled silence of the library immediately makes you feel a little safer. The air smells like old paper, polished wood, and coffee.

Instead of staying on the main floor where all the group study tables are, Jungwon steers you directly toward the back elevators. He hits the button for the third floor—the designated silent study zone, where the stacks are dense, the lighting is dim, and the secluded alcoves are buried deep between rows of reference textbooks.

When the doors chime and open onto the third floor, it’s practically deserted.

Jungwon walks down the narrow aisles, his sneakers making no sound against the heavy carpet, until he finds a small, deeply recessed desk tucked away in the very back corner, completely hidden from the main walkway by two massive shelves of historical fiction.

He drops his backpack onto the floor with a soft thud and turns to look at you, his dark eyes absolutely gleaming in the dim light of the alcove.

"Sit," he commands softly, pulling out the single padded chair for you. "Before you collapse."

You ease yourself into the padded chair, but the moment your weight fully settles onto the seat, a sharp, intense ache flares through your lower back and thighs. A soft, breathless gasp slips past your lips before you can stop it.

You quickly bite your lower lip, your face burning as you frantically look around to make sure no one else heard you in the dead silence of the third floor. Hurriedly, you pull your notebook and laptop out of your bag, setting them down on the wooden desk with an unnecessarily loud clatter just to drown out the sound of your own voice.

Jungwon doesn’t miss a single thing.

Hearing your gasp, he immediately drops to one knee beside your chair, his posture shifting from smug to entirely attentive in a split second. He doesn't care about his books or the coffee; his focus is entirely locked onto you.

"Hey," he murmurs, his voice dropping into a rough, incredibly gentle whisper as he reaches out. His warm hand slides right over yours, stopping you from nervously shuffling your papers around. "Are you okay? Did it hurt that bad?"

The teasing glint is completely gone from his dark eyes, replaced by a heavy, protective sincerity that makes your chest tighten. He squeezes your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles while his other hand reaches up to gently adjust the oversized collar of his hoodie, making sure you’re completely covered and comfortable.

"I told you we didn't have to walk all the way over here if you weren't up for it," he whispers, looking up at you through his dark lashes, his face just inches from yours.

You let out a soft breath, your shoulders relaxing as you look down at him. "I'm fine, Won," you whisper, using the familiar shortening of his name that always softens his sharp edges. "It just caught me off guard for a second. The chair is actually way more comfortable than the ones in the lecture hall."

Hearing you call him that makes a slow, genuine smile replace his worried expression. The tense line of his shoulders relaxes, but he doesn't get up from his knee beside your chair. Instead, he leans his forearm against your armrest, looking up at you with a gaze that is entirely too soft for a public library.

"Good," he murmurs, his thumb continuing those slow, soothing circles across the back of your hand. "Because if you're miserable, I'm going to feel guilty. And I don't like feeling guilty."

"You? Have a conscience?" you tease weakly, though the warmth of his hand is making it very hard to focus on being witty.

"Only for you," Jungwon answers without a shred of hesitation, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a heavy, quiet intensity. He reaches up with his free hand, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles brushing against your warm cheek. "Now, open your notebook before I find something else to do with your lips."

A slow, quiet chuckle escapes your lips, the sound muffled by the heavy silence of the library stacks. Jungwon’s lips twitch into a satisfied smirk as he watches the tension finally leave your face.

You reluctantly pull your hand from his warm grip, reaching over to unzip your bag and pull out your English notebook. The pages are filled with neat, dense lines of syntax notes and highlighted vocabulary—the 94% target score you set for yourself looming heavily in the back of your mind.

"See? I'm actually studying," you whisper, smoothing down the first page and tapping the tip of your pen against the paper.

"I see that," Jungwon murmurs. Instead of pulling up a chair of his own, he shifts closer, resting his chin casually on the edge of your desk right next to your notebook. He looks sideways at the complicated syntax diagrams, his dark eyes blinking lazily. "Looks incredibly boring."

"It's not boring, it's my grade," you shoot back in a hushed voice, though you can't help the small smile tugging at your lips.

Jungwon lets out a low hum, his eyes drifting from the notebook page up to your profile. In the dim, recessed lighting of the alcove, the sharp angles of his jaw look softer, and the intense, quiet focus he reserves only for you returns. He reaches up, his fingers lightly catching the edge of your oversized sleeve again, tugging it just enough to remind you he’s right there.

"Fine," he whispers, his breath warm against your arm. "Study. I'll be right here making sure nobody disturbs you."

You look down at his lazy, handsome face resting against the edge of the desk and poke his forehead with the cap of your pen.

"But you have to help me, Jungwon," you whisper, giving him a stern, albeit totally fond, look. "You're the one who dragged me all the way back here under the guise of being a 'good boyfriend.' So start acting like one and help me review these structures."

Jungwon closes his eyes for a brief second as if your pen-poke actually caused him physical pain, letting out a dramatic, silent sigh. But he doesn't argue. He slowly lifts his head from the desk, his dark eyes gleaming with a mixture of defeat and amusement.

"Fine," he murmurs, his voice a gravelly, quiet rumble in the dead silence of the stacks. He reaches out, his long fingers casually sliding your notebook over so it sits right between the two of you. "What are we looking at? Clause structures?"

He leans in closer, his shoulder pressing firmly against yours as he scans your neat handwriting. The scent of his cedar-and-mint cologne instantly washes over you again, making it incredibly hard to focus on the English grammar rules right in front of your face.

Jungwon taps a finger against a particularly messy syntax diagram you’d struggled with earlier. "This one's wrong," he whispers right next to your ear, his breath tickling your skin. "The dependent clause is misplaced. If you leave it like that, your professor is going to take off points."

You blink, looking from the page up to his sharp profile. "Wait, really?"

"Mhm," he hums smoothly, turning his head just enough to catch your eye. His face is dangerously close now. "I'll explain it to you. But every time I catch a mistake..." He leans in a fraction of an inch, his voice dropping to a teasing, low promise. "...you owe me a proper answer when we get back to my place tonight. Deal?"

For the next twenty minutes, the quiet alcove becomes a bubble of intense, hushed focus. True to his word, Jungwon actually stays on his best behavior, though his version of "best behavior" still involves sitting dangerously close to you, his shoulder pressed firmly against yours.

He proves to be an incredibly frustrating but effective tutor. Every time your eyes start to glaze over a dense paragraph of English syntax, he taps the page with the back of his pen, his low voice murmuring a simplified explanation directly into your ear. He breaks down the complex clause structures with a lazy, effortless intelligence that makes you wonder how he even finds time to study between his own classes.

"No, look at the modifier here," he whispers roughly, his long finger tracing a line underneath your notes. "It’s supposed to connect to the main subject, not the object. You're messing up the sentence flow."

"I am not," you hiss back in a fierce whisper, though you're already clicking your mechanical pencil to erase the mistake. "The textbook phrase was just confusing."

"Excuses," Jungwon hums smoothly, a small, triumphant smirk playing on his lips as he watches you correct the diagram.

You try your absolute best to ignore the way his cedar-and-mint cologne completely fills your senses every time he leans in to check your work. Every few minutes, your sore muscles give a tiny, aching throb, reminding you of exactly why you're wearing his oversized hoodie, but the warmth of the hot coffee and the steady, quiet rhythm of flipping pages helps you finally zone into a productive rhythm.

By the time twenty minutes have passed, two whole pages of your notebook are filled with corrected diagrams and fresh, neat annotations. You let out a long, quiet sigh of relief, leaning your head back slightly as the mental fatigue of the intense study sprint finally hits you.

Beside you, Jungwon notices the shift immediately. He closes the cap of his pen with a soft click and turns his head, his dark eyes fixed on your tired profile with a soft, knowing gaze.

"Finally," you groan softly, dropping your chin into your hand and letting out a long, dramatic sigh. "I am so bored. If I look at one more dependent clause, my brain is actually going to melt right out of my ears."

Jungwon lets out a low, amused huff, casually tossing his pen onto the open notebook. He leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head as he watches your dramatic collapse with total satisfaction.

"Twenty whole minutes," he teases, his voice a quiet, deep rumble that vibrates right through the empty book stacks. "Is that all the endurance you have, sweetgirl? I remember you lasting a lot longer than that last night."

Your face instantly flares a brilliant, furious shade of red. You whip your head around to glare at him, desperately checking over your shoulder to make sure no innocent freshman is wandering the historical fiction aisle.

"Yang Jungwon, shut up," you hiss, kicking him under the table—though you immediately regret it when the movement makes your sore thigh muscles throb in protest. You wince slightly, biting your lip.

Jungwon’s smirk softens in an instant. He drops his arms and leans forward, his dark eyes locking onto your flushed face. He reaches out beneath the table, his hand finding your knee and gently, soothingly rubbing his palm against the fabric of your jeans to ease the ache you just caused yourself.

"Serves you right," he whispers, though his touch is incredibly tender. He slides his chair a fraction of an inch closer, completely cutting off any remaining distance between you. "But fine. You worked hard. You got through the worst of the syntax diagrams."

He leans his chin in his hand, his gaze dropping to your lips for a heavy, deliberate second before meeting your eyes again. "Since you're so bored... do you want to keep trying to study, or are you ready to admit that your human shield is gone and you're completely at my mercy?"

You roll your eyes, but the fierce blush on your cheeks completely betrays you. "I am never at your mercy," you whisper defiantly, though you don't move your leg away from his warm, soothing hand.

"Is that so?" Jungwon murmurs.

The playful smirk slips off his face, replaced by that dark, intense focus that always makes your heart do a dangerous flip. Slowly, his hand slides up from your knee, his fingers tracing a deliberate line up your thigh until his palm rests against the edge of the desk, effectively trapping you in your seat. He leans in close, the scent of his mint-and-cedar cologne completely overwhelming your senses in the cramped, quiet alcove.

"Because right now, we're at the very back of the third floor," he breathes, his voice dropping so low it’s barely a vibration against your skin. "Nobody comes back here. Your little friend Yunah is gone. And you're wearing my hoodie because you can barely sit straight."

He reaches up with his free hand, his long, cool fingers gently hooking under the high collar of the sweatshirt. He tugs it down just a fraction of an inch, his eyes darkening as he looks at the dark, blooming marks hidden against the pale skin of your collarbone.

"Tell me again who's in charge here," he whispers, his thumb lightly brushing against your lower lip, forcing you to look directly into his eyes.

Your breath catches in your throat. The absolute silence of the library surrounds you, making the sound of your own racing heart feel incredibly loud. You grip the edge of the wooden desk, your knuckles turning white as you try to find your voice.

You swallow hard, your pulse hammering against his fingertips as his thumb gently presses into your lower lip. The contrast between the cold, sterile library environment and the suffocating heat radiating from Jungwon is enough to make your head spin.

"You're a menace," you breathe out, the words trembling slightly as they leave your mouth.

"That's not an answer," he murmurs, his dark eyes fixed entirely on your lips. He tilts his head slightly, his sharp jawline cutting through the dim shadow of the alcove. He leans in another fraction of an inch, until his lips are practically brushing against yours, his breath mixing with yours in the quiet space. "Say it."

You close your eyes for a brief second, completely defeated by the sheer intensity of him. When you open them, you look right back into those heavy, demanding eyes.

"You," you whisper softly, the surrender tasting sweet and terrifying all at once. "You're in charge, Jungwon."

A slow, deeply satisfied smile breaks across his face, the dangerous edge in his eyes softening into something fiercely possessive. He lets out a low, ragged breath against your mouth, obviously pleased with the confession.

"Good girl," he whispers against your skin.

He doesn't kiss you—not yet—knowing exactly how risky it is in the open stacks of the library. Instead, his hand slides from your collar up to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling into your hair as he gently pulls your head back just enough to press a soft, lingering, and incredibly warm kiss right against the sensitive skin of your jawline, right over the edge of the high collar.

A quiet, involuntary shiver runs down your spine, and your hands instinctively fly to his chest, gripping the front of his jacket to keep your balance as your knees go entirely weak under the table.

Jungwon lets out a low, ragged hum against your skin, clearly feeling the way you shiver under his touch. His grip on the back of your neck tightens just a fraction, steadying you as he pulls back slightly. His dark eyes scan your face, taking in your heavy eyelids and the deep, dark flush that has completely overtaken your cheeks.

"Look at you," he whispers, a trace of arrogant satisfaction cutting through his low tone. "We've barely been back here half an hour and you're already completely breathless."

"Shut up," you breathe, your fingers still tightly gripping the fabric of his jacket. "Someone is going to walk down this aisle."

"Let them," Jungwon murmurs, though he knows exactly how risky this is. He casually shifts his body, his broad shoulders and back completely blocking the narrow opening of the alcove from the rest of the floor. To anyone passing by, it would just look like a dedicated boyfriend leaning over to help his girlfriend with a difficult syntax question.

He slides his hand down from your neck, his fingers trailing down the soft fabric of the hoodie until he hooks them under the hem, his warm palm making direct contact with the bare, sensitive skin of your waist. You stiffen, your breath hitching at the sudden spark of heat.

"Jungwon—"

"I'm just holding you," he whispers, his thumb tracing a slow, deliberate circle against your hip. He leans his forehead against yours, his dark eyes locking onto yours from mere inches away. "Relax. We still have to study, remember? You need that 94%."

"You're a hypocrite," you mutter, though your heart is beating so fast it feels like it's going to burst.

"I'm a motivator," he corrects smoothly, a slow, devastating smirk spreading across his lips. "Every time you get an answer right on the practice quiz, I'll let you take a break. But if you get one wrong..." He lets his hand slide a little higher up your waist, his touch heavy and full of unspoken promises. "...we stay here until the library closes."

A breathless, quiet laugh escapes your lips, completely helpless against the absurd logic he's using to trap you. "That's not a fair deal at all. I lose either way."

"Exactly," Jungwon murmurs, his thumb tracing a slow, burning line across the bare skin of your hip. "The house always wins, sweetgirl."

With a smooth, effortless shift of his weight, he slides out of his own chair and crowds right into yours. Before you can even protest, his hands grip your waist and lift you just enough to pull you directly onto his lap. A sharp, sudden gasp catches in your throat as the movement makes your sore muscles throb, but Jungwon is already wrapping his arms tightly around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck to muffle his own low, satisfied chuckle.

"Jungwon, seriously, if someone sees us—" you hiss, your hands bracing against his broad shoulders as you sit awkwardly on his thighs, the heavy fabric of his hoodie bunched up between you.

"No one is looking," he whispers against your skin, his voice muffled and deep. He inhales deeply, taking in the scent of the library coffee mixed with his own cedar-and-mint cologne on your skin. "And even if they do, I'm just helping you study. Keep your voice down."

He reaches around you with one long arm, his fingers blindly searching the desk until he finds your mechanical pencil. He presses it into your hand, forcing your fingers to curl around it, before sliding your English notebook right in front of both of you.

His chin rests heavily on your shoulder, his dark eyes staring at the next page of syntax exercises. His chest expands against your back with every slow, deliberate breath he takes, his warmth completely enveloping you.

"Alright," he whispers right against your ear, sending a fierce shiver straight down your spine. "Question one. Identify the independent clause in this paragraph. If you get it right, I'll let you take a sip of your coffee. If you get it wrong... I'm biting your neck."

Jungwon freezes for a split second, his chin still resting heavily on your shoulder. The heavy silence of the third-floor stacks suddenly feels a little deeper, a little more absolute.

Slowly, a quiet, low chuckle rumbles against your back, the vibration sending a direct shiver straight down your spine. He doesn’t move his arms from around your waist; instead, his grip tightens just a fraction, pulling you firmly against his chest.

"A vampire?" he echoes, his voice dropping into a gravelly, teasing whisper right against your ear. His breath is incredibly warm against your skin—a stark contrast to the cold myth. "Is that your excuse for why you're so distracted by me? Or are you just trying to explain away the marks on your collarbone?"

He tilts his head, his dark eyes gleaming with pure amusement as he looks up at your profile in the dim alcove light. He slides his hand up to the back of your neck, his thumb lightly brushing the sensitive skin right below your jawline, lingering where your pulse is hammering away.

"If I were a vampire, sweetgirl, do you really think I’d waste my time helping you study English syntax at two in the morning?" he murmurs, a devastating, sharp smirk spreading across his lips. "I’d have much better ways to keep you up all night."

He taps the tip of his pen against your notebook page, forcing your attention back to the text. "Now focus. Independent clause. Before I decide to give you a reason to keep believing in ghost stories."

"Fine," you mutter, a small, defeated smile tugging at your lips as you look down at the complicated diagram on the page. You try to force your brain to actually process the words, even though the steady, heavy warmth of Jungwon's chest against your back is making it nearly impossible to think straight.

You trace the tip of your pencil along the first line of the text. "The independent clause is... 'The researcher abandoned the project.' The rest of it is just a bunch of qualifying prepositional phrases."

Jungwon leans his head a little closer, his dark eyes scanning the sentence over your shoulder. For a second, he doesn't say anything, just letting his breath fan softly against your neck while his thumb continues that slow, mesmerizing stroke along your jawline.

"Look at that," he finally murmurs, his voice a low, satisfied purr right against your ear. "94% might actually be doable for you. You're lucky you have a good tutor."

"I did that entirely on my own, Yang," you whisper back, though you can't help the slight breathlessness in your voice.

"Mhm. Sure you did," he hums, completely unbothered by your lack of credit. True to his word, he reaches over with his free hand, picks up your lukewarm coffee cup from the corner of the desk, and brings it right to your lips. "Drink up, sweetgirl. You earned your reward. Because for question two, I'm picked a much harder one."

You let out a soft, victorious laugh, a genuine "yayy" slipping past your lips before you can filter it. Jungwon’s eyes crinkle at the corners, a soft, rare expression overtaking his usually sharp features as he watches you take a grateful sip of the coffee.

"Don't get too celebrating yet," he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave as he sets the paper cup back down on the wooden desk with a soft click.

His hand slides right back to your waist, his long fingers spreading wide against your hip, holding you securely on his lap. He leans forward, his chest pressing flush against your back as his chin returns to its resting place on your shoulder. The playful atmosphere shifts in an instant, the air between you turning thick and heavy once again.

"Question two," Jungwon whispers, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, sending a powerful wave of goosebumps down your arms. He uses his free hand to turn the notebook page, pointing to a monstrously long, multi-clause sentence at the top of the next section.

"Identify the dangling modifier," he commands softly, his dark eyes locking onto your profile, tracking the way your pulse flutters at his proximity. "And remember the rules, sweetgirl. You don't get any more coffee if you mess this up."

You stare down at the sprawling sentence, your eyes tracing the lines of text as you desperately try to focus. With Jungwon’s chest expanding steadily against your back and his fingers lightly tapping a slow, distracting rhythm against your hip, the letters feel like they’re swimming on the page.

"The dangling modifier..." you murmur, your voice trailing off as you squint at the syntax layout. "It’s... 'Having arrived late to the lecture hall'?"

Jungwon doesn't say a word for a long, agonizing moment. He just lets out a slow, quiet hum that vibrates right through your spine. You can feel the sharp edges of his lips curling into a slow smirk against your shoulder.

"Wrong," he whispers, his breath warm and dangerous against your ear.

"Wait, no, let me re-read it—"

"Too late, sweetgirl. A deal's a deal," he murmurs.

Before you can even click your mechanical pencil to try again, Jungwon’s hand slides up from your waist to the side of your neck. His touch is firm but incredibly gentle as his fingers tilt your head to the side, completely exposing the sensitive line of your throat and collarbone.

He leans down, the soft strands of his dark hair brushing against your cheek. You let out a quiet, shaky gasp as his lips press right against the warm skin just below your jawline. He doesn't bite—not hard enough to break the skin—but he nips playfully, a sharp, deliberate squeeze of his teeth that sends a fierce, electric shiver straight down to your toes.

Your hands instinctively fly up to grip his forearms, your knuckles turning white against the heavy fabric of his jacket as your body goes completely soft against his chest.

"Jungwon..." you breathe out, a desperate, hushed warning that sounds entirely devoid of any real conviction.

"Mhm?" he hums against your skin, his lips lingering over the fresh mark he just left, pressing a soothing, warm kiss right over it. He pulls back just an inch, his dark eyes absolutely pitch-black in the dim, recessed light of the alcove. "Ready for question three, or do you want to get another one wrong?"

You let out a soft, defeated breath, your fingers loosening their tight grip on his jacket. "Just ask the next one," you whisper, trying to regain your composure while your heart beats a frantic rhythm against his chest.

Jungwon’s smirk broadens, deeply satisfied with the effect he has on you. He repositions his arm around your waist, pulling you securely against him, and taps the page with the back of his pen.

"Question three," he murmurs, his gravelly voice vibrating right through your back. "Find the passive voice verb string in the third paragraph. Take your time, sweetgirl. I'm in no rush."

You force yourself to focus, scanning the messy lines until you find the culprit. "There," you whisper, pointing your pencil at the words. "'Was being analyzed by the committee.' It should be active."

"Correct," Jungwon hums smoothly, pressing a brief, rewarding kiss to your temple. "Look at you go. One more left."

He turns the page to the very last exercise of the chapter. His grip on your hip tightens, his voice dropping into a low, final promise right against your ear.

"Question four. Last one for the night," he whispers, his dark eyes fixed on your profile. "Explain the difference between a restrictive and a non-restrictive clause. Get this right, and I'll pack up your bags and take you home to bed."

You take a deep breath, drawing on the last of your energy to ace his final test. "Restrictive clauses are essential to the sentence's meaning and don't use commas. Non-restrictive clauses just add extra info and need commas around them."

Jungwon stays quiet for a moment, letting the heavy silence of the library settle around you. Then, a genuinely proud, soft smile breaks across his face.

"Perfect score," he whispers, closing your notebook with a definitive snap. He slides you off his lap just long enough to stand up, immediately gathering your things and sliding them into your bag before zipping it shut. He throws the strap over his shoulder and extends a warm hand down to you, his dark eyes full of unspoken heat. "Come on. Let's get you home."

You stare at his extended hand, then look up at his smug, handsome face. The absolute certainty in his eyes sparks a sudden, stubborn flame right through your exhaustion.

Instead of taking his hand, you deliberately cross your arms over the chest of his oversized hoodie, leaning back into the library chair with a defiant tilt of your chin.

"No," you say, your voice flat and entirely unyielding in the quiet stacks.

Jungwon blinks, his hand remaining suspended in the air for a second before he slowly lowers it. A look of pure, amused disbelief crosses his face. "No? What do you mean, no? You just won the bet. I'm taking you home."

"I don't care," you mutter, glaring stubbornly at the closed notebook on the desk. "I have two more chapters of vocabulary to memorize before tomorrow, and I'm not leaving just because you decided the quiz is over. I'm staying."

Jungwon lets out a low, disbelieving huff, shifting his weight onto one leg as he looks down at you. "Sweetgirl, you can barely keep your eyes open, and you were literally complaining about being bored five minutes ago."

"That was before you started treating me like a charity case," you shoot back, your voice a fierce, stubborn whisper. You reach out, snatching your bag right off his shoulder, unzipping it with a sharp tug, and pulling the notebook right back out. "I need that 94%, Jungwon. I'm not letting you drag me away just because you're tired of sitting here."

The playful smirk completely vanishes from Jungwon's face, replaced by a heavy, hooded stare. He steps closer, crowding right back into your space until his knees are brushing against yours, trapping you against the desk once more. He leans down, gripping the armrests of your chair so he's looking at you dead in the eye.

"I'm not tired, and I don't do charity," he murmurs, his voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet rumble that sends a thrill right through your stubborn defiance. "But you're running on fumes, and you're hurting. If you think I'm letting you sit in this freezing library until sunrise just to prove a point to me, you're losing your mind."

"Watch me," you whisper, opening the notebook to a blank page and clicking your pen aggressively.

Jungwon stares at you for a long, tense moment, the quiet standoff between you vibrating with sudden heat. Then, a slow, dark smile pulls at the corner of his lips.

"Fine," he breathes, his hand sliding up from the armrest to cup the back of your neck, his fingers tightening just enough to force you to look at him. "You want to be stubborn? We'll stay. But I'm not sitting across from you anymore."

Before you can protest, he pulls your chair back, slides right into it himself, and yanks you straight back onto his lap, pinning your waist with an iron grip. He grabs your pen, forces it between your fingers, and whispers roughly against your ear, "Start writing. If you stop for more than ten seconds, I'm packing the bag myself."

You bite your inside lip, refusing to let him see how much his sudden move completely threw you off. Your heart is hammering against his ribs, but you clamp your jaw shut, stare hard at the page, and force your hand to start writing down the first vocabulary word from the glossary in your textbook.

1. Anecdote (n.) - a short amusing or interesting story about a real incident or person.

"Ten seconds," Jungwon murmurs right against your ear, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that makes your hand wobble slightly on the paper. "Nine. Eight..."

"I'm writing, Yang, shut up," you hiss, your knuckles turning white as you press the pen down, fiercely determined to prove you can handle this.

You quickly move to the next word, your pen scratching aggressively against the paper. The heavy warmth of his chest against your back is suffocating, and the iron grip he has on your waist makes it impossible to shift away from the dull ache in your muscles. But your stubborn pride is a powerful fuel. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of winning this standoff.

2. Benevolent (adj.) - well meaning and kindly.

"That's a lie," you mutter under your breath as you underline the definition.

"What was that?" Jungwon asks smoothly, his thumb tracing a heavy, warning circle right over your hip bone. He leans forward just enough to read your neat handwriting over your shoulder. "Benevolent? Definitely doesn't apply to me. Keep going, sweetgirl. You're lagging on word number three."

You glare at the textbook page, your eyes burning from exhaustion, but you click your pen and start the next definition. You're going to finish this chapter if it kills you, right here in his lap, just to see the look on his face when you finally close the book on your own terms.

For twenty-five agonizing, stubborn minutes, you don't stop. Your hand aches, your eyes burn under the harsh glare of the library lamp, and the heavy, unyielding warmth of Jungwon’s body beneath you acts as both a distraction and a strange anchor. True to his word, every time your pen pauses for more than a few seconds, his grip on your waist tightens in a silent, heavy warning, forcing you to keep moving.

But finally, with a sharp, triumphant flick of your wrist, you write down the very last definition of the chapter.

You slam the textbook shut with a definitive, dusty thud that echoes softly in the empty stacks. You drop your mechanical pencil onto the desk, letting it roll aimlessly until it hits your coffee cup, and let out a long, shaky breath.

"Done," you whisper fiercely, your voice thick with exhaustion but dripping with stubborn victory. "Two entire chapters. On my own."

Jungwon doesn't move immediately. For a few seconds, the only sound in the dark alcove is the steady, quiet rhythm of his breathing against your shoulder. Then, a slow, deep chuckle rumbles from his chest, vibrating right through your back.

He leans forward, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin right below your ear as he lets out a hot, ragged sigh.

"You really are the most stubborn girl I've ever met," he murmurs, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly tone full of absolute defeat and overwhelming fondness. He slides his hands down to your thighs, gently squeezing them before effortlessly lifting you off his lap so he can stand up.

Your legs are so stiff you actually sway a little when your feet hit the cold floor, but Jungwon is already there. He catches your waist, steadying you against his broad chest while casually reaching over with his free hand to slide your notebook and textbook into your backpack. He zips it up with a swift, final click, throwing the heavy strap over his own shoulder this time without giving you a chance to argue.

He looks down at your flushed, pale face, his dark eyes hooded and heavy with a completely different kind of intensity now that the studying is officially over.

"Alright, champion," he whispers, his thumb lightly sweeping across your cheekbone as he tilts your face up to his. "You proved your point. You got your vocabulary. Now, we're leaving before I lose the last of my patience and show you exactly what happens to good girls who don't know when to quit."

A quiet, breathless shiver runs through you at the rough edge in his voice, but you refuse to let your guard down completely. You look up at him through your eyelashes, your jaw still set in that stubborn line.

"Is that a threat, Yang?" you whisper, your voice barely audible in the dead silence of the third floor.

"A promise," Jungwon corrects smoothly.

He doesn't waste another second. Keeping one solid, heavy arm wrapped around your waist to support your aching muscles, he guides you out of the cramped alcove and into the narrow, shadow-drenched aisle of the book stacks. The library is completely deserted at this hour, the rows of tall bookshelves stretching out like towering guards in the dim, automatic night-lighting.

Every step you take makes your sore thighs throb, a direct consequence of both his ruthlessness the night before and your own stubborn refusal to leave the wooden library chair. Sensing your slight stagger, Jungwon pulls you even closer against his side, practically carrying half your weight as he navigates the maze of books toward the exit.

When you finally reach the heavy glass doors of the library, the cool, crisp night air hits your face, instantly cutting through the stuffy, coffee-scented fog of your brain. The campus outside is pitch-black and entirely empty, the streetlamps casting long, amber glows over the pavement.

Jungwon doesn't say a word as he leads you down the concrete steps. He holds your hand tightly, his long, cool fingers completely entwined with yours, squeezing gently every few paces just to remind you he's there.

Within a few minutes, you reach a car parked in the shadows of the deserted student lot which it was jays car. He clicks the unlock button, walks you over to the passenger side, and opens the door for you. Before you can even climb in, he reaches up, gently flipping the oversized hood of his sweatshirt over your messy hair, his dark eyes softening just a fraction as he looks down at you bundled up in his clothes.

"Get in," he murmurs, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip one last time. "Let's get you home, sweetgirl. You've fought me enough for one night."

You slide into the leather passenger seat of Jay’s car, the interior still smelling faintly of his expensive woodsmoke cologne. As soon as you sink into the plush cushions, the sheer weight of the last twenty-five minutes hits you all at once. Your muscles go completely liquid, and you let your head drop back against the headrest, your eyes fluttering shut.

The driver’s side door opens and shuts with a solid, expensive-sounding click. Jungwon slides in, tossing your heavy backpack onto the back seat before starting the engine. The dashboard lights up, casting a soft, blue glow over his sharp features as the car purrs to life, the heater instantly kicking in to chase away the midnight chill.

He doesn't put the car in drive right away.

Instead, he leans across the center console, his eyes scanning your exhausted, pale face. You don't even have the energy to open your eyes, but you feel the sudden shift in gravity as he crowds into your space.

"Look at you," Jungwon murmurs, his voice a low, rough purr that cuts through the quiet hum of the engine. "You fought me so hard back there, and now you can't even open your eyes."

Before you can mutter a stubborn retort, his cool fingers catch the edge of your chin. He gently turns your head toward him, his thumb pressing lightly into the soft skin of your cheek. You force your eyes open, meeting his heavy, dark gaze in the dim light of the dashboard.

"You're lucky Jay let us borrow this," he whispers, his thumb sliding down to trace the frantic pulse in your neck, right over the marks he left earlier. "Because if we were waiting at a bus stop right now, I wouldn't have the patience to keep my hands to myself."

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your cheekbone, tracing a slow, burning path down to the corner of your mouth. He pauses there, his breath hot against your lips, letting the tension stretch tight between you one last time.

"Sleep," he commands softly against your skin, a final, possessive promise in his tone. "Because once we get back to the dorms, sweetgirl... you're entirely at my mercy."

With a slow, devastating smirk, he pulls back, shifts the car into gear, and pulls out of the deserted lot, leaving the library shadows far behind.

The drive back to the dorms is a blur of passing streetlamps and the low, steady hum of Jay's car eating up the empty asphalt. By the time Jungwon pulls into the campus residential lot and cuts the engine, the sudden silence is heavy, broken only by the quiet ticking of the cooling radiator.

You don't even realize you’ve drifted off until you feel a large, warm hand gently shaking your shoulder.

"Hey," Jungwon whispers, his voice incredibly deep and thick with his own exhaustion. "Wake up, sweetgirl. We're here."

You let out a soft, protesting moan, burying your face deeper into the collar of his oversized hoodie. Your body feels like lead, every single muscle screaming from the sheer tension of the last few hours.

Jungwon lets out a low, amused huff. The next thing you know, the passenger door clicks open, the cool night air hitting your bare ankles as he reaches into the footwell. Before your sleep-fogged brain can even register what's happening, he slides one solid arm under your knees and the other securely behind your back, effortlessly lifting you out of the seat and scooping you into his arms.

"Jungwon..." you mumble, your eyes fluttering open as you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck to keep your balance. "I can walk."

"Sure you can," he murmurs sarcastically, kicking the car door shut with his heel and locking it with the key fob. He doesn't even look winded as he carries you across the dark pavement toward the side entrance of the dorm building. "That's why your knees were shaking just from standing up."

You're too tired to fight him on it, your stubborn streak completely drained by the warm reality of his chest pressing against yours. You bury your face into his neck, inhaling the sharp scent of his cologne as he navigates the quiet, dimly lit corridors and carries you all the way up to his room.

He manages to unlock the door with one hand, stepping into the dark, familiar space and closing it behind him with a soft click of the deadbolt. The room smells like him, safe and completely isolated from the rest of the world.

He carries you over to his bed, gently lowering you onto the mattress. But as he tries to pull his arms away, your fingers tighten in the fabric of his jacket, pulling him down with you.

Jungwon catches his weight on his forearms, hovering directly over you in the dark. The faint moonlight filtering through the blinds catches the sharp angle of his jaw and the dangerous, hooded look in his eyes.

"Still trying to call the shots?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your lips as a slow, devastating smirk spreads across his face. He doesn't pull away; instead, he settles his heavy weight between your thighs, pinning you to the mattress as his hands slide up to cup your face. "I told you what happens once we got back here, sweetgirl. You're completely out of time."

Your fingers stay knotted in the fabric of his jacket, your stubbornness flaring one last time even through the heavy haze of sleep. You look straight up into his dark eyes, refusing to look intimidated by the way he’s pinning you down.

"I'm not out of time," you breathe out, your voice a quiet, defiant challenge against his lips. "I got the 94% questions right. You said you'd take me to bed."

Jungwon lets out a low, rough growl of a laugh, his chest vibrating heavily against yours. "To sleep, sweetgirl. I said I'd take you to bed to sleep. But you just can't stop pushing me, can you?"

He shifts his weight, his grip on your jaw tightening just enough to command your absolute attention. He leans down, his lips brushing yours with an agonizingly slow, bruising pressure that completely steals the remaining breath from your lungs. It’s a heavy, possessive kiss that tastes like lukewarm library coffee and pure adrenaline, entirely erasing the quiet chill of the room.

When he finally pulls back, his breathing is just as ragged as yours, his dark eyes absolutely pitch-black in the moonlight.

"You're going to be the death of me," he whispers against your mouth, his thumb sweeping roughly over your lower lip.

With a definitive sigh of defeat, he slides off you, rolling onto his back and pulling you straight against his side. His long arm wraps securely around your waist, hauling your back flush against his chest so you’re completely tucked into his warmth. He pulls the heavy comforter up over both of your shoulders, burying his face into the back of your neck.

"Now shut up and go to sleep," Jungwon murmurs, his grip on your hip an unyielding, possessive weight. "Before I forget how tired you are and make you regret being so stubborn."

The heavy silence of the room settles over you, broken only by the quiet hum of the mini-fridge in the corner and the steady, warm rhythm of Jungwon’s breathing against your neck. His arm is an unyielding, possessive weight over your waist, anchoring you so tightly against his chest that you can feel every single beat of his heart.

You stare out into the dark room, the moonlight tracing pale lines across the floorboards. The exhaustion is pulling at your limbs, but your mind is suddenly, fiercely awake. The stubbornness that carried you through the library chapters morphs into a different kind of bravery—the terrifying, reckless kind.

"Jungwon," you whisper into the dark.

"Mhm?" his voice is a low, gravelly vibration against your skin. He doesn't move, his grip tightening just a fraction as if telling you to stop talking and sleep.

"Even when we couldn't stand each other..." You swallow hard, your fingers tightening on the edge of the comforter. "Even when we were completely at each other's throats... I still loved you."

The heavy rhythm of his breathing stops instantly.

The entire room seems to drop into an absolute, breathless vacuum. Jungwon doesn't move a muscle, but you can feel the sudden, intense tension locking up his broad frame. The casual, teasing atmosphere from the library vanishes, replaced by a raw, suffocating gravity.

Slowly, deliberately, Jungwon shifts. He releases your waist, only to grab your shoulder and roll you onto your back, hovering over you once again. In the dim moonlight filtering through the blinds, his dark eyes are incredibly wide, searching your face with a fierce, almost desperate intensity.

"What did you just say?" he whispers, his voice dropping into a rough, dangerous register that sends a massive shiver straight down your spine.

"You heard me," you say, your voice trembling slightly but your gaze remaining stubborn, refusing to look away from him. "I hated how much control you had over me. I hated how competitive we got. But even back then... it was always you. I loved you even when we were enemies, Yang."

Jungwon stares down at you, his jaw clenching so hard you can see the sharp line of it in the shadows. For a long, agonizing moment, he doesn't say anything, his breathing shallow and heavy. The arrogant, untouchable tutor completely disappears, leaving behind something incredibly vulnerable and fiercely exposed.

"You're a menace," he finally breathes out, a low, ragged sound tearing from his throat.

He leans down, his hands framing your face, his long fingers burying into your hair with a sudden, overwhelming desperation. When his lips meet yours, it’s completely different from before—it’s not a tease or a punishment. It’s a bruising, deeply passionate confirmation, a silent admission that he's been harboring the exact same terrifying feelings for just as long. He kisses you until you're completely breathless, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he lets out a shaky exhale.

"If you think you were the only one losing your mind while we were fighting," he murmurs against your lips, his thumb roughly sweeping across your flushed cheek, "you're an idiot, sweetgirl. I’ve been yours since day one."

He pulls you back against his chest, wrapping his arms around you so tightly it almost hurts, burying his face in your hair. "Now go to sleep," he whispers fiercely, his heart hammering violently against your back. "Before I make you say it again."

The fierce, frantic rhythm of his heart slowly steadies against your back, matching the quiet rise and fall of your own chest. The heavy weight of his arm wraps around you like a shield, pinning you flush against his warmth, while his fingers gently entwine with yours under the thick comforter.

With the truth finally out in the open, the stubborn tension that kept you awake all night completely dissolves. There are no more witty retorts left to throw at him, no more vocabulary words to memorize, and no more walls left to build up between you.

"I heard that," you murmur sleepily into the dark, your voice barely a breath.

"Shut up and sleep, sweetgirl," Jungwon huffs softly, though he presses a lingering, tender kiss right into the crown of your head, holding you just a little bit closer.

As your eyes finally flutter shut, drifting off into a deep, long-overdue sleep, a soft, content smile touches your lips. The upcoming English exam, the 94% goal, and the chaotic student life would all be waiting for you tomorrow. But right now, tangled up in Jungwon's clothes and locked safely in his arms, you knew you had already won the only victory that truly mattered.

And that is exactly how it stays. Locked in that quiet, sun-warmed room, wrapped up in his heavy embrace, everything is finally completely settled.

No more adjustments, no more hidden feelings, and absolutely no changes. Just the two of you, exactly where you were always meant to be.

The End.

Omg hi lovesss , this is my first story, this took me two days to finish 😭, and I hope y'all enjoyed reading and if there is spelling wrong forgive me. English is not my first language.

[honmineee]

Sunghoon audio (nsfw)

Jerking him off that he can't handle it.