Gigi's Enha Fic-Mart

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[thatgooster]

Welcome !! <3

Hi everyone! I'm a new writer to enhablr. I used to write when I was younger and unsure and decided to stop. But now I'm reaching out on a new platform to give writing a try again!! (thats just an excuse to write out my fantasies rlly...)

I'm a hybe girlie!! (I stan hybe groups, not the company...)

I'm here to UNLEASH my desires for Enha! I don't have much experience yet so my Do's and Don'ts aren't hard lined but I will figure them out as I go!

Will only write for Enha so do send in your requests or ask any question about me and I will answer!

I'm a full-time uni girlie so if I am slow to respond please do forgive me :(

Leave a comment to be added to the permanent taglist!

Love you guys!!!

[jaylaxies]

CALL OUT MY NAME

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut (multiple scenes), angst, fluff, porn with plot, down bad hee, switch!hee, lowkey subby hee, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), lots of kissing, cunnilingus, blowjob, dry humping, fingering, sexting, phone sex, mutual masturbation, multiple orgasms, marking, crying. mentions of nicknames, messy feelings, lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 24.7k words!

SYNOPSIS: Money can’t buy loyalty, and neither can years of friendship. After your boyfriend and your best friend decide to fuck each other behind your back, the only silver lining is Heeseung—the one person who looks as hollow as you feel. It begins as a petty revenge kiss and a no-strings situationship, but what will you do if it slowly turns into something dangerously real?

A/N: hihi loves <3 sorry for the wait, i had to edit a few scenes but here we are now, i hope you guys enjoy the fic, also i love jaem (sorry jaem), moon nics ricey cameo lets gaurrr <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <3

It really was a sight to see. 

Your best friend pressed up against your boyfriend like they’d invented the concept of gravity, her hands shamelessly roaming under the hem of his shirt while his mouth dragged along the line of her neck. 

No shame, not even a flicker of it. To the drunk, sweating crowd around them, it probably just looked like another hazy corner of the party—two bodies tangled in the dim lights, music blasting so loud it swallowed any guilt, if they cared to harbour any that is, but you saw everything.

To be more precise, you found out yesterday when they got bold enough to fuck each other at your boyfriend’s apartment, and oblivious enough to not notice your presence, or your low chuckle at the depravity of the situation. Instead of feeling mad, you felt that bone deep numbness. Why trust anyone at this point?

Emotionally unavailable, the label had never sounded so accurate, but was it truly your fault when you never felt the need to expect anything from him? It certainly was an experience faking your orgasms for him, but you cared on the deeper levels—well, till you found him balls deep inside your now ex best friend. 

So you sat there now on the worn leather couch, legs crossed, drink dangling from your fingers, watching them like it was just another Tuesday night show.

“Oh hey—you’re here! Have you seen Mina?” 

The voice cut through the haze of music and chatter, slightly breathless. You turned your head slowly, lashes lowering just a fraction as your gaze landed on Heeseung.

He stood a few feet away, tall and striking even in the crowd, dark maroon hair tousled like he’d rushed all the way here. His sharp jaw was tense, brows drawn together in mild confusion as he scanned the room. The leather jacket hanging off his broad shoulders caught the shifting lights, and for a moment, you wondered how he’d react to the news of his girlfriend in the arms of his best friend. 

You tilted your head, lips curving into a slow, amused smile that didn’t quite reach your eye, 

“yeah,” you said, voice smooth as you clicked your tongue, “right over there.”

You lifted your glass in a lazy gesture toward the corner, and Heeseung followed your line of sight. The shift in his expression was immediate and downright visceral. His eyes widened, pupils blown with disbelief as he took in the scene of Mina’s leg hooked shamelessly around his best friend’s hip, her mouth pressed to the underside of his jaw while his hands roamed with practiced familiarity. 

The way they moved together spoke of stolen nights and secret touches—months, maybe longer.

“They’re cheating,” you added lightly, almost conversationally, as if commenting on the weather as you took a slow sip from your drink, “bold choice, doing it in plain sight like this. Guess they figured neither of us would actually show up tonight—I mean, I did mention I wouldn’t.”

Heeseung’s adam’s apple bobbed visible, a flash of hurt brewed behind his eyes, before it ignited this anger within him, “what the fuck—” the words slipped out rather hoarse, broken. 

He didn’t really look at you, eyes locked on them as if he couldn’t look away. Before you could say anything else, he was moving, pushing through the dense crowd with single-minded intensity. You watched his retreating back for a moment, that same curiosity curling in your chest. It would’ve been a sight to stay and watch the fireworks, sure, but you just got up. 

You wove through the crowd without hurry, heels clicking softly up the narrow wooden stairs, each step carrying you farther from the mess downstairs.

The upstairs hallway was dimmer, and at the end of it, the balcony door was wide open, letting the night air slip in. You stepped outside, pulling a cigarette from the pack tucked in your jacket, lips closing around it as you flicked your lighter. 

First drag hit deep, filling your lungs with that bitter, familiar burn. You leaned against the railing, letting the smoke curl out slow between your parted lips, eyes half-lidded against the wind tugging at your hair.

For a minute, everything felt almost peaceful, comfortable even, then the door scraped open behind you, and Heeseung stepped out, breathing hard like he’d run the whole way up. His hair was messier now, dark burgundy strands falling into his eyes, and his face—god, his face was a wreck. Eyes glassy with everything he was trying not to feel, cheeks flushed, mouth pressed into a thin, angry line.

Without asking, he closed the distance in two long strides and plucked it right from your lips.

A surprised little chuckle slipped out of you before you could stop it, and you observed how he took a deep, shaky drag from where your lipstick had stained the cigarette, holding it in for long before he blew the smoke up toward the dark sky. His free hand gripped the railing tight enough that his knuckles went white. 

“Fucking hell,” he rasped, voice rough, “how long? Just—tell me how long they’ve been doing this behind our backs.”

“Since at least yesterday,” you said, “I walked in on them fucking in his dorm, didn’t even have the decency to lock the door,” a faint smile ghosted your lips, “I just closed it again and left.”

Heeseung’s head turned toward you slowly, eyes wide with shock, the cigarette nearly slipping from his fingers, “you saw them and didn’t say shit?”

You shrugged, “what was there to say? They wanted each other, and I’ve never been the type to drown myself that deeply anyway. It just felt odd to see Mina do it, that part did affect me, years of friendship drowned for what? A guy.”

Heeseung let out a disbelieving huff, running a hand through his already tousled hair, “Jaemin was my best friend, man. We’ve been tight since freshman year—shared everything. And now this?” His voice cracked slightly, “feels like a fucking knife in the back from both sides. They looked guilty for a second but didn’t even bother following me here to explain themselves, though they did have the audacity to ask me not to tell you.”

You studied him for a moment through his ramble, the way the balcony light cast sharp shadows across his sharp jaw and the pained lines around his eyes. He looked devastatingly undone, yet there was something resilient in the way he stood there, refusing to crumble completely. The sight stirred a spark in your chest—that familiar free-spirited curiosity. 

You passed the cigarette back to him after a puff, “people reveal their true colors eventually. It’s pragmatic to accept it and keep moving instead of letting it rot you from the inside.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with shared betrayal. Heeseung took another drag, then offered it back, his gaze lingering on your face with astute observation, like he was trying to peel back the layers of your calm detachment, he just couldn’t understand how you seemed so—unaffected?

You crushed the cigarette against the railing and flicked it into the night. That proactive restlessness bloomed brighter inside you, eyes gleaming with mischievous insight.

“Wanna do something fun?” You asked. 

Heeseung blinked, lips parting in surprise, “fun? Like right now?”

“Mhm,” you stepped closer, “are you okay with a kiss, Heeseung?”

His breath hitched audibly, throat bobbing, “a—a kiss?” The word came out hoarse, almost stunned. His gaze dropped to your mouth, lingering, before snapping back up, cheeks flushing darker, “you serious?”

“Very,” you held his stare, “yes or no?”

“Isn’t that cheating?” He looked devastatingly clueless even mumbling that question, and you raised your brow. 

“Yes or no?” You asked again. 

He searched your face, the raw pain still churning, but something hungrier kindled beneath it—curiosity. After a beat, he gave one slow nod making you chuckle.

You took his hand and led him back down into the party’s suffocating crowd, and he followed without asking any questions. In the corner, Jaemin and Mina were still shamelessly entangled, her arms looped around his neck, his hands possessive on her hips.

You stepped straight into their space without hesitation, grabbing Jaemin’s arm to pull him back. 

The sharp crack of your palm across Jaemin’s cheek echoed through the room, his head whipped sideways. Mina stumbled back with a gasp as the crowd around you froze, then erupted in murmurs and the bright flare of phone screens.

“What the fuck?” Jaemin snarled, clutching his reddening face, eyes blazing the instant recognition hit, “w—wait, Y/N?” 

Mina’s face drained of color, “we—we didn’t think you would show up tonight—”

You desperately wanted to laugh, but you maintained your character, cause how were they dumb enough to think that you wouldn’t find out, especially when Heeseung did too. 

“Clearly,” you said, getting ready to lie beautifully, “Heeseung told me everything. How long have you two been fucking behind our backs?”

Whispers exploded outward. Jaemin fumbled for excuses, mouth opening uselessly.

“I didn’t expect this from you Mina,” you mumbled, biting the inside of your cheek as tears started forming in her eyes.

“No—listen to me, we didn’t—”

“Whatever,” you continued, a crystalline laugh escaping you, “be happy with each other, I’ll find someone better.”

You turned away from their frozen faces, and Heeseung stood right there, looking completely wrecked. Your eyes met his, like really met them. For a second everything else including the stares, the phones, the bass—faded into background noise.

He looked at you like you were the only person left in the room, and maybe to him, you were. 

You stepped in close, sliding your hands up his chest. His heart was pounding under your palms, doe eyes full of trust and anticipation for what was to come. Heeseung’s breath caught, but he didn’t move away. His hands found your waist almost on instinct, fingers spreading wide and warm through your clothes, before pressing in to hold on tighter. 

His gaze dropped to your mouth before flicking back up, nodding slightly as he understood the question you asked him earlier. 

Which is why you tilted your head and kissed him.

You slotted your lips against his rather softly, just to test him at first. His mouth was warm, faintly tasting of smoke and the drink he’d had earlier. He froze for half a second, stunned at the easiness of it all, then let out this quiet, broken sound against your lips and kissed you back. 

The kiss turned deeper fast, hungrier. Your tongue brushed his and he groaned low in his throat, the vibration rolling straight through you. You slid one hand into his hair, tugging lightly at the strands, while the other stayed fisted in his jacket, pulling him closer. Heeseung’s grip on your waist tightened almost painfully so, one arm wrapping further around your back to press you flush against him. His chest rose and fell hard against yours. You could feel every shaky breath, the way his fingers trembled just slightly where they dug into your sides.

It was messy, a little desperate. Tongues sliding, breaths mixing hot and uneven, the faint wet sound of it somehow louder than the music behind. He kissed like he was pouring every bit of hurt and anger and sudden want into you as you took it all, giving the same right back.

When you finally pulled back just enough to breathe, Heeseung was completely gone. Lips swollen and shiny, chest heaving like he couldn’t catch his breath, eyes dark and hazy like his brain had short-circuited. A wrecked little sound slipped out of him, half-gasp, half-groan—as he stared at you, dazed and breathing hard.

Your smile embodied satisfaction as you leaned in again and pressed one slow, teasing peck to his parted lips, letting it linger just enough to make his breath hitch all over again.

Jaemin and Mina were staring like they’d seen a ghost with their jaws dropped, faces pale, eyes wide with pure disbelief. The whole party had gone dead quiet around you, everyone watching, phones still pointed your way like this was the best drama they’d seen all year (it probably was).

You laced your fingers with Heeseung’s, gave his hand a light squeeze, and tugged him toward the door.

“Let’s get out of here,” you murmured close to his ear, voice low and a little playful against his skin.

Heeseung didn’t argue, just followed, still breathing hard, fingers gripping yours tight as the door swung shut behind you. 

The cool night air hit your heated skin, and for the first time tonight, everything felt wide open again.

A rather loud screech right next to your left ear woke you up, and you wondered if the world had somehow been corrupted by zombies because there’s no other explanation for such sounds, but your friend made it possible somehow. 

You jolted, heart kicking once before your brain caught up. Sunoo was practically jumping beside your bed, phone in his hand, “one time—one single time I decide to stay in and catch up on sleep and you create a fucking scene? Gosh, babe.”

Winter shoved the door the rest of the way open with her shoulder, hoodie sleeves pushed up to her elbows, hair still a wild mess from her deep sleep. She planted herself at the foot of your bed, arms crossed, eyes narrowing at you, “fuck, Y/N,” she said before her tone got softer, “are you okay? I fucking knew that girl was a snake from the first time she came over. And your boyfriend? I always hated him, al-fucking-ways.”

You were still blinking, eyes half open and not willing to adjust to the brightness. Right then, a chuckle escaped your lips at the memory of last night—and you tried to remember the last time you felt so satisfied (maybe never?). 

Sunoo dropped onto the edge of your mattress without waiting, “I always said we are your besties. The kind who’d help you hide a body, no questions asked. Ride or die, baby.”

You sat up straight, blanket pooling around your waist, and opened your arms because of course they were right, “come here, idiots.”

They didn’t hesitate, Winter climbing on first, wrapping her arms around you like she could shield you from the whole damn world. Sunoo piled on top a second later, all limbs and very dramatic sighs, squishing the three of you into a tangled heap of familiar warmth. 

“Yeah,” you murmured into Sunoo’s shoulder, voice muffled, “you two are stuck with me.”

Winter huffed a soft laugh against your neck, “good, because we’re not letting you deal with that snake ex-bestie and cheating ex-boyfriend shit alone. We’re burning that chapter together.”

Sunoo’s voice came out muffled too, “and—we’re keeping the video forever, that kiss looked cozy girl, what else did you do—”

You let yourself sink into the warmth for a long moment, the bone-deep numbness from yesterday easing just enough to let something real and grateful slip through. The sting of Mina’s betrayal was still there, but it felt distant now—almost coherent in its simplicity. 

People drift apart, friendships end. You’d always known that. What intrigued you more was how easily these two could make the weight feel lighter, their amiable chaos wrapping around you like a promise that some things indeed were here to stay. 

Meanwhile, Heeseung was suffering. 

Jay had shoved his phone into Heeseung’s face, close enough for him to make out, uh, absolutely nothing. It seemed like a blurry mess of lights until Jay yanked it back to show Heeseung a pixel version of you grabbing his jacket and pulling him into what appeared to be a passionate kiss. 

The angle caught the exact moment his hands found your waist, the way his shoulders had tensed then eased up all at once. Heeseung’s ears burned red so fast it felt like someone had lit a match under his skin.

“Bro,” Jay said, grinning, “the video is everywhere, especially on the uni insta page for students. Someone made it into a trend—it’s actually insane.”

Before Heeseung could even form a coherent thought, the bedroom door slammed open hard enough to rattle the frame, scaring both the boys. 

Jake came barreling in, hair still sticking up from sleep, eyes wild, “you bitch—you kissed Y/N? She’s mine—I called dibs on her months ago!”

Heeseung groaned, dragging both hands down his face, “she’s not an object, Jake.”

“Oh fuck you—you know I like her,” Jake shot back, dropping on his knees. 

Sunghoon strolled in next, casual as ever, one shoulder propped against the wall. He let out a low whistle and Heeseung wondered what the fuck is wrong with his friends, “so you’re what? Dating now? That was one hell of a plot twist.”

Jay sniggered, not even trying to hide it, “nah dude, you think he can handle someone like Y/N?”

Jake tried to butt in again, “I can—” but the rest of them talked right over him like usual.

Heeseung sat up slowly, the full reminder of the last night coming right back to him. The slap echoing through the room, the way you’d looked at him right before you kissed him, eyes bright with that reckless spark. The way he’d kissed you back like he enjoyed it. He swallowed hard, throat tight.

“Did I cheat on Mina?” He asked quietly.

The room went still for half a second, all three of them looked at him like he’d grown a second head. Jay let out a disbelieving laugh, “she cheated on you while you were still together.”

“Yeah but I kissed someone else literally a few minutes later—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sunghoon cut in, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Heeseung stared at the blanket pooled over his lap, replaying the kiss again—the heat of your mouth, the way your fingers had twisted in his hair, that soft, teasing peck you pressed to his lips after. It had been the best kiss he’d ever had. The whole situation felt far too complicated for the simple labels his friends were throwing arounf, and yet he couldn’t stop the memory from looping behind his eyes.

Jay sighed, softer this time, leaning back on his elbows, “did it feel good?”

They all looked at him. Heeseung didn’t answer right away, he just swallowed again, the memory burning behind his eyes like it refused to fade.

You on the other hand were absolutely not functioning when Sunoo had a trillion questions lined up for you—all of which consisted of Heeseung. You three had just managed to make coffees when the loud knock interrupted you. A sigh was all you could manage as you opened the door to find your pathetic excuse of an ex standing there with—roses? Wow, he didn’t even have the decency to remember that you were allergic. 

He spoke up before you could, “I know i deserved that slap.”

Well, obviously. 

“I messed up—I swear I don’t want her.” He was looking at you with that pout he mustered whenever you both had disagreements. 

You bit down your laugh, “yeah? So?”

“Take me back, baby, please?”

Right then someone flew past the door, and your mouth hung open as Sunoo straight up landed a kick on Jaemin’s thigh, resulting in him falling down with pain. Now, you laughed freely as Sunoo bent down to warn him, “stay away from her, okay?”

Jaemin turned to look at you, eyes wide, “what—”

“You heard him, we’re over, Jaemin,” you shrugged, wrapping your arm around Sunoo as you both walked inside, Sunoo glaring at man till the door closed shut. 

Jaemin stayed on the ground for a few more seconds, roses scattered around him, a thorn making him bleed just enough for him to roll his eyes.

That went well.

The afternoon sun filtered softly through the leaves of the uni garden, casting dappled shadows across the wooden bench where you sat. It had been three days since the party, and the campus still hadn’t let either of you forget it. Random students kept approaching you in the hallways, the library, even the coffee line—some offering awkward condolences, others straight-up calling the slap and the kiss badass with wide-eyed admiration. 

You sipped your mango matcha slowly, the garden was quiet now, just the distant hum of students walking between buildings and the soft rustle of leaves overhead. You felt normal, jolly even, like it hadn’t affected you, but even you couldn’t deny how good of a kiss it had been. 

Too lost in the pdf in your iPad, you didn’t notice Heeseung approaching until his shadow fell across your lap. He stopped a few feet away, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket, hair still slightly messy and he somehow made it look good.

“Hey,” he said, voice polite as it had always been, “can we talk?”

You looked up, lips curving into an amiable smile, “sure, c’mere sit,” you patted the empty space beside you on the bench and held out your mango matcha toward him, “want some? It’s good.”

Heeseung only cocked his brow, “same straw?”

You blinked innocently, “you’re saying that as if we didn’t make out in front of the entire party three days ago.”

He stared at you for a moment, intrigued cause of your carefree answer, before he reached out and took the cup anyway. He drank without hesitation, the straw brushing his lips where yours had been moments ago, and when he lowered it, the corner of his mouth twitched.

You chuckled, watching the way his shoulders loosened just a fraction, “so—talk, what’s on your mind, Heeseung?”

He handed the cup back, fingers brushing yours for a second longer than necessary, “I’ve been thinking about that night. A lot.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant, but his eyes stayed on yours, “the kiss, the way you just handled everything. I keep replaying it and I can’t make it make sense.”

You tilted your head, taking another slow sip before answering, “what’s there to make sense of? They cheated, we both saw it. I decided not to let it ruin my night and you were there. The kiss happened—simple.”

He let out a short, disbelieving breath, running a hand through his hair, “It’s not simple for me. Mina was my girlfriend, Jaemin was my best friend since freshman year. And so much happened in like—an hour,” he paused, eyes searching your face, “did it really not mess with you at all?”

You shrugged, “It stung a little actually. Losing Mina as a friend after all those years felt kinda—odd? But drowning in it? Not really my thing.” Your lips curved again, “i’ve never been the type to hand my whole heart over and expect it to stay put.”

Heeseung watched you for a long moment, “you make it sound so coherent,” he muttered, almost to himself, “like it’s all just—logical. Meanwhile I’ve been walking around campus getting stopped by random people asking if we’re together now. It’s been three days and I still feel like my head’s spinning.”

You laughed lightly, “same here, a guy offered to buy me coffee because I deserved better, It’s weirdly entertaining.”

Heeseung’s mouth twitched into a half-smile, the first real one you’d seen from him today, “yeah, even my friend Jake was sort of, how do I even put it? But yeah, he wasn’t thrilled, hes got some crush on you.” 

Your eyes sparkled, “wait, isn’t he the cute one with an accent? I like him.”

He shook his head at how you would probably encourage Jake, the thought was rather unsettling, then looked at you again, more serious, “but, y’know—the kiss, that part wasn’t just for show.”

That made you pause for a moment, and you held his gaze, intrigued by the way he was looking at you—like he was trying to figure out how someone could be so calm in the middle of the wreckage.

“So what are you saying?” You asked, voice soft but direct, “you regret it?”

“No,” he answered almost immediately, “I don’t regret it, that’s the problem. It felt good and I keep wondering what the hell that means when everything else is such a mess.”

You leaned back against the bench, letting the sun warm your face for a second, “it doesn’t have to mean anything big, I mean—we both got screwed over.” You watched how pretty he looked under the sunlight, lips slightly red cause he’d been biting them, “maybe we don’t overthink it. Maybe we just—just see where it goes.”

Heeseung took the cup again, fingers brushing yours once more, and this time he didn’t pull away right away, “you’re really okay with that?”

You smiled, “I’m okay with a lot of things, Heeseung. Especially if they feel good.”

Neither of you said anything more for a moment. The conversation didn’t need to be solved today, for now, sitting here with him, sharing the same straw and the same tension, felt like enough.

Heeseung has always been a man of few words, but even those little words seemed to disappear when you were around. And the worst part? You weren’t even aware of it.

You weren’t the one to intrude on anyone’s personal space, and that included Heeseung, much to his relief (or dismay?), he was just—confused.

A week had slipped by since the garden talk, and the quiet tension between you two had only grown heavier. He’d spent the days avoiding Mina’s messages, the knot in his chest tightening every time her name appeared. But you—you were everywhere. In literature class you sat three rows ahead, never together, but he stared. He couldn’t stop noticing the way the light caught the curve of your neck when you leaned over your notes, the soft way your fingers tapped the edge of your pen, the small, absent smile that played on your lips when something in the lecture amused you. Every stolen glance left him more tangled than the last.

Tonight the restlessness had won. He pulled on a hoodie and walked to the 24-hour convenience store near the dorms, craving something mindless like his ride or die—ramen to quiet the noise in his head.

The annoyingly white lights buzzed overhead as he stepped inside, grabbing a basket and turning down the snack aisle, mind still half-lost in yesterday’s class when you’d stretched and your shirt had ridden up just enough to—

He stopped just then, cause you were right there,

standing in the middle of the aisle in soft pink pajama shorts that barely skimmed the tops of your thighs and a matching oversized hoodie that had slipped off one shoulder, you looked unfairly soft and warm, like you’d just rolled out of bed. Your hair was a little messy, and you were reaching up for a pack of strawberry gummies, the hem of the shorts riding higher with the movement.

Heeseung’s mouth went dry, and he wanted to slap himself for acting like a fucking creep.

You turned at the sound of his footsteps, eyes meeting his across the narrow aisle. A slow smile curved your lips, the same one that had been haunting him for days.

“Hey,” you waved at him, like running into each other at midnight in pajamas was the most normal thing in the world, “couldn’t sleep either?”

Heeseung swallowed, stepping closer despite the way his pulse kicked up. The faint scent of your shampoo clinging to your hair, “needed ramen, the boys emptied the fridge I swear,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

You nodded in understanding, “same lowkey—was staring at the ceiling but then decided to get out.” You tilted your head, looking at him a little closer, eyes tracing the tired lines on his face, “you look like you’ve got a lot going on up there. Want to talk about it while we walk back?”

Heeseung hesitated for half a second, then nodded, “yeah, sounds good.”

You paid for your stuff together, the cashier barely glancing up, and stepped back out into the cool night air. The walk was easy at first, with absolutely no words being exchanged, your shoulders brushed every few steps, Heeseung kept his hands in his pockets, but he could feel the warmth of you next to him, the soft brush of your hoodie sleeve against his every time you shifted.

“Been a week,” he said after a few minutes, “Mina keeps texting, and of course I haven’t answered. It feels weird ignoring her, but answering would feel worse.”

You hummed, glancing at him sideways, “I get that. Sometimes the easiest thing is just to let it sit there until it stops stinging, y’know?” Your arm bumped his again as you walked, and you didn’t pull away, “you holding up okay with all of it?”

He just nodded, granting you a smile which made the corner of your lips lift up too, and he asked you the same, to which you laughed as if nothing had even happened. 

It was so nice just walking beside you, even in silence, at this cursed hour of midnight, though Heeseung would argue and say that he felt more awake now than he did the whole day. 

The dorm buildings came into view too soon, but then Heeseung saw something that made his steps falter on the pavement, body going rigid right beside you. It made you follow his line of sight, and of course—Mina was there, walking straight towards his building, head down and mind completely focused on her phone. She hadn’t noticed you yet, but it was clear that she was going to approach Heeseung. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, panic flashing across his features in a way you could feel it reach you too.

Before you could provide him with two words of comfort, his hand slid around your waist, fingers spreading wide and warm through the thin fabric of your hoodie. He pulled you in close, so close that your side pressed flush against his, the heat of his body juxtaposing the chill of the air. His palm was steady but his fingers trembled a little against your hip as you caught the faint scent of his cologne, it was clean and woody, just how you liked it. 

“Play along, please?” He whispered urgently against your ear, voice rougher now.

You only chuckled, leaning into him as if you’d done it before, slipping your arm around his back, fingers resting lightly against the small of his back. Your head tilted up towards him, a soft smile curving up as you looked at him. Heeseung was flushed cause, damn were you good at acting. 

“Got it,” you murmured back.

Mina looked up at the exact moment, eyes widened at the sight, a gasp leaving her lips as she watched Heeseung’s hand slide lower on your back as you reached his dorm door.

You didn’t even realize you were biting your bottom lip until Heeseung’s gaze dropped straight to it, his breath hitched, thumb pausing on your cheek as his other hand came up to cup your face, warm palms cradling your jaw like he was afraid you might pull away.

“Can I?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper, eyes searching yours.

You didn’t answer, just leaned in, closing the small gap between you, and pulled him into the kiss.

Your lips met his softly at first and Heeseung made a quiet sound against your mouth, his hands cupping your face fully now, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek as he kissed you back. The taste of him was faint, a hint of the cherry juice he must have had earlier. Your own hands slid up his chest, fisting lightly in his hoodie as you tilted your head to kiss him a little deeper.

When you finally pulled back, Heeseung’s eyes were dark and a little dazed, lips parted and cheeks flushed. His thumbs were still stroking your cheeks, reluctant to let go.

Mina stood frozen a few feet away, face pale, cause she swore to herself it was an act, but this? It didn’t seem like one. 

Heeseung didn’t look at her, just tightening his grip on your waist and guided you through the door, pulling you inside with him. The warmth of his palm stayed glued to the small of your back the whole way, steady now, like he needed the contact to stay grounded.

Inside the apartment, Jake was sprawled on the couch in the living room, a half-eaten pizza box open on the coffee table, some mindless show playing low on the TV. He froze mid-bite when he saw you, eyes going wide.

You smiled, bright and completely at ease, like showing up at this hour with Heeseung’s arm still around you was the most normal thing in the world, “oh—hey. Jake, right?”

“Y/N? Uh yes—hi, you’re here?” Jake stuttered, making Hee roll his eyes.

You just walked over to him, dropping onto the couch beside him acting all normal though your heartbeat said otherwise, “yeah! Mind if I steal a bite?”

Jake blinked, then grinned like an idiot and lifted the slice he was holding right to your mouth, “here, go for it.”

You leaned in and took a bite straight from his hand, cheese stretching between your fingers as you chewed, “mhm, this is actually good, thanks.”

Jake’s face lit up even more, “right? You can have the whole slice if you want.”

Heeseung stood there watching the whole thing, jaw tight. He lasted about five seconds before he groaned low in his throat, “alright, that’s enough.” He crossed the room in two quick strides, caught your wrist gently but firmly, and tugged you up from the couch, “c’mon.”

You let him pull you up, giving Jake a little wave over your shoulder, “night, Jakey. Thanks for the pizza.”

Jake just waved back, still grinning, “anytime!”

The second Heeseung’s door clicked shut behind you, silence filled the room—it was dim, lit only by the desk lamp, the air suddenly too warm and too small. Heeseung’s back pressed against the door, eyes dark and fixed on you before he walked over and plopped on his bed. 

You clicked your tongue, tilting your head at him, “now she’s gonna think we’re dating.”

Heeseung rubbed a hand over his face, looking genuinely sorry, “yeah—I know. I’m so sorry—I just panicked and pulled you into this whole thing. You didn’t have to go along with it.”

You shrugged, stepping closer until you were right in front of him. Then, without warning, you turned and sat right down on his lap, straddling his thighs like it was the most natural thing in the world. Heeseung’s breath caught, hands instinctively landing on your hips to steady you, eyes wide with surprise.

“I did kiss you first at the party,” you said, “so it’s kinda my fault too.”

Heeseung’s fingers flexed on your hips, holding you there. He gulped, throat bobbing visibly as he looked up at you, “so, now what?” he asked, voice rough.

You shrugged again, still sitting comfortably on his lap, fingers playing with the collar of his hoodie, “it’s your call, Hee.”

You kept talking as Heeseung pondered deeply about his choices. He didn’t register you saying something about how Jake’s face was priceless because Heeseung wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes had dropped to the exposed line of your clavicle where your hoodie had slipped down, tracing the smooth skin there, then moving up to your lips—still a little shiny from the greasy pizza, slightly parted as you spoke. The way you were sitting on him, the soft weight of you on his thighs—it was too stimulating for him. 

He didn’t say anything, just leaned in and kissed you hard, mouth practically crashing into yours, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, the other staying firm on your hip to keep you right where you were. There was nothing hesitant about it this time—it was hungry, deep. His tongue brushed yours, and he groaned quietly into the kiss, the sound vibrating against your lips. You could feel the way his fingers tightened in your hair, the way his chest rose and fell fast against yours, the way his body reacted instantly to having you on his lap like this.

You kissed him back just as hard, hands sliding up his chest to fist in his hoodie. A soft moan slipped out of you when he sucked on your bottom lip, and Heeseung made this low, wrecked sound in response, hips shifting under you.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your mouth, barely pulling back, “this okay? Tell me if you want to stop.”

You shook your head, lips brushing his as you answered, voice already breathy, “don’t stop—keep going.”

He groaned and kissed you harder, tongue sliding against yours as one hand slid under your hoodie, palm warm on your bare back. You rocked your hips down against him and he moaned into your mouth, the sound raw.

You pulled back just enough to speak, forehead resting against his, “we doing this then?” You breathed against his lips, “no strings, just whenever we want or need?”

Heeseung swore you could read minds, “yeah,” he sighed in pleasure, “I want that—you and me, no strings.”

You smiled against his lips and kissed him again, deeper, grinding down slowly, “good fucking boy.”

He groaned louder, the sound vibrating through you as his fingers dug into your thighs, “shit—I’ve been so fucking pent up,” he muttered between kisses, hips rolling up to meet yours, “all week because of you.”

You moaned softly, rocking against him again with a chuckle, “that’s adorable, keep going, yeah? Don’t stop.”

He flipped you suddenly, laying you on your back and settling between your thighs. The new position made you both moan—the weight of him pressing you into the mattress, lips chasing yours mindlessly as his tongue slid against yours, hand tracing higher under your hoodie, hips grinding down slowly. 

“God, you feel good,” he muttered, pulling you down for another kiss.

You nodded, moaning softly into his mouth, “so do you.”

The room filled with the sounds of lips, heavy breathing, and quiet moans as you kept moving together, hands roaming, bodies pressing closer. The conversation faded into breathy words and soft sounds between kisses, and honestly, both of you didn’t care about much anymore. You both were just two horny adults functioning on a verbal agreement with no rules whatsoever. 

Outside in the living room, Jake had just taken another bite of pizza when the first loud moan drifted through the door. His eyes widened with betrayal—the slice slipping from his fingers and landed cheese-side down on the floor with a pathetic splat.

He stared at the closed door for a long second, mouth still full.

“Well—shit.”

You didn’t know that the consequences of spending one night with Heeseung could be so dire, granted you didn’t go beyond some innocent humping which bestowed you with the absolute pleasure of seeing Heeseung desperate and flushed underneath you. 

The question bugged you—why would Mina even wish to leave such a beautiful man who’s very willing to provide pleasure? 

You were still turning that over in your head as you walked down the hallway, iPad tucked under your arm, one AirPod in, but your mind was elsewhere—which was odd considering you never were the kind to just stand and ponder about random things, during the day time at least. The last time it happened was when you were a kid and Zayn had left One direction. 

Regardless, you chuckled at the idea of Heeseung being the one to garner your attention, since you never saw him in that light before—something about friends’ partners being inanimate to you. Either way, you started walking back towards your dorm since the lectures were over, only to be stopped by Mina blocking your path with a scowl on her face. 

You raised an eyebrow, “hey?” 

“We need to talk,” she huffed, looking rather tired, maybe with the way people stopped the second they sensed any drama, and why wouldn’t they? You both were the centre of it given the circumstances. 

“Do we really?” You gave her a lazy look, knowing well it bothered her. 

Her jaw clenched. “You kissed Heeseung. In front of everyone. While he was still with me.”

A couple more heads turned. You could feel eyes on you now, phones probably already sliding out of pockets.

You let out a short breath, almost a laugh, “while he was still with you? That’s rich. Last time I checked, you were the one fucking my boyfriend in his dorm with the door wide open. I walked in on you two, actually. So maybe don’t lecture me about cheating.”

Mina’s cheeks flushed, “that’s not the same—”

“It kind of is,” you cut in, keeping your voice even, “Heeseung didn’t deserve to find out like that, neither of us did, but at least I didn’t sneak around for months like a coward. And yeah, I kissed him—I’d do it again. He’s too good for the way you two treated him.”

Mina’s eyes flashed with anger, “you’re no better than me. You basically cheated too—”

“Bro, are you actually serious right now?”

A tall guy with messy black hair and a skateboard tucked under his arm stepped out from the edge of the crowd. You’d seen him around in a couple electives. He looked Mina up and down, completely unimpressed, having seen the scene at the party in flesh too. 

“Everyone’s seen the video,” he said, loud enough that the people nearby nodded, “I literally saw you and Jaemin at the party. You’re the one who cheated, leave her alone.”

A girl a few feet away nodded like she agreed. Mina glanced around at all the stares, lips pressed tight, then spun on her heel and shoved through the crowd, practically running toward the exit.

You let out a real laugh this time, almost like you couldn’t believe this was real, that your own friend would turn against you in such a manner. Riki turned to you, one corner of his mouth lifting.

“Damn,” he said, “that was satisfying.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, still chuckling as you started walking again, “thanks for stepping in. You really didn’t have to.”

He shrugged, falling into step beside you, “she’s been trying to change the perception, i saw her lying to my friend earlier. Someone had to say it. I’m Riki by the way, or Ni-ki, whatever.”

“Y/N,” you said, bumping his shoulder lightly, “seriously, I owe you a coffee for that.”

“Bet,” he smirked, already pulling his phone out, “just text me whenever. I’m free most afternoons.”

Ten feet away, half-hidden behind a cluster of students, Heeseung had stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. Jay almost walked straight into his back, headphones on so conveniently, he missed the whole commotion. 

“You good?” He asked, lifting one side of his headphones, “Heeseung?” He asked yet again when he didn’t get a reply. 

How would he? When Heeseung was deep in thoughts, the tips of his ears red. Everyone knew he was the guy who kept to himself, not the kind to insert himself into a fight—eventually leading to him never getting into a situation where he’d have to defend himself. 

But you did it so naturally with not a single hint of him witnessing the scene. It was heartwarming to say the least, the way you defended him so casually but your tone clearly portraying the care you harboured for him, even if it was little (as per Heeseung and his never ending self doubt). 

Before Jay could wave a hand in front of his face, Jake came barreling around the corner like he was late for everything in life, backpack slipping off one shoulder. Without missing a beat he lunged forward, locking an arm around Heeseung’s neck and yanking him down into a tight headlock. 

“Spill it right now—the hell did you do with Y/N last night, huh? I’m not letting go till you talk, dude, I swear to god—”

Much to his dismay, Heeseung pushed him off with ease, “the fuck? Get off,” he said, staring at Jake who looked like he hadn’t slept at all. 

Jay was completely lost, headphones now resting on his neck, “what am I missing here exactly? What even happened?”

Heeseung groaned, “nothing happened—” 

“Nah, he took Y/N to his room and then I heard moans. Moans—do you fucking get it? He’s actually fucking her.” Jake ranted, eyes blown wide. 

Jay’s eyebrows shot up, “wait, what? For real?”

Heeseung shoved Jake off properly this time, cheeks burning as he fixed his hoodie, “It’s not—fuck, can you not yell that in the middle of the hallway?”

Jake threw his hands up, looking genuinely offended, “I’m sorry, I was trying to eat pizza and process the fact that my dream girl was getting railed by my roommate. You could’ve at least given me a heads-up, man.”

Jay let out a low whistle, finally catching on. He crossed his arms, which had gotten muscular somehow, “so, you and Y/N? Like, actually?”

Heeseung rubbed a hand over his face, ears still red, “we have an arrangement of sorts. No strings attached, that’s it.”

Jake stared at him like he’d been shot in the chest, “no strings? She deserves love, she deserves aftercare and pampering and—”

Jay was never good at hiding his amusement, especially if it consisted of embarrassing one of his friends, “you sure you can actually do the no-strings thing? You’re the guy who gets attached after one good conversation. Remember that girl from school who just smiled at you in the library and you were googling how to ask someone on a date at two a.m.?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Heeseung muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched with his mind drifting back to you. 

Jake however, wasn’t done. He threw his hands up again, “I’m serious, I even fucking dropped the pizza slice she ate from.”

Jay snorted, “you’re never gonna let that go noq, are you?”

“Never,” Jake said, dead serious, “that could’ve been our indirect kiss.”

Heeseung shook his head, finally starting to walk again so they wouldn’t be late for class, “It’s fine. We’re both adults, it’ll be okay.”

Jay fell into step beside him, clapping him on the back a little too hard, “yeah, okay. Keep telling yourself that, I give it ten days before you’re buying her flowers and writing her name in your notes with hearts around it.”

“Two weeks,” Jake corrected, still sulking, “max.”

Heeseung didn’t bother arguing. He just shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and kept walking, the stupid little smile refusing to leave his face completely.

You, meanwhile, had no idea any of that chaos had just exploded behind you. You groaned, sitting down on the couch, despising the silence that greeted you. Winter had gone to her family home for her cousin’s wedding, and Sunoo had conveniently decided to spend the night over at Hoon’s to torture him with some horror movie. 

And you were here, unsure of what to do tonight, and the newfound interest you’d found within your ex’s best friend. 

Whatever this was, it was definitely going to be interesting.

Turns out, the night wasn’t about to be boring at all. You had just gotten under the warmth of your duvet as your phone lit up, a text brightening your lock screen. Evidently, you seemed to be lurking in Heeseung’s mind as much as he had started persisting in yours. 

Heeseung: you up?  You: that’s such a fuckboy question  Heeseung: oh shit i didnt mean it that way You: hm? what’s it then  Heeseung: js felt like texting 

You clicked your tongue, rolling to your side, phone propped up against your fluffy pink pillow. 

You: mhm sure You: what are you doing rn then

The typing bubble popped up, disappeared, then popped up again—a proper reminder of how Heeseung’s personality shone through even through his texting patterns. 

Heeseung: just lying in bed Heeseung: can’t sleep for some reason

A second later your phone vibrated with a picture, a selfie to be precise. It was rather cinematic how Heeseung appeared to look even prettier with dim lights, messy dark hair falling into his eyes, no shirt, just the chain he always wore catching the light. He looked way too good for someone who was just lying in bed, lips slightly parted and swollen like he’d been biting them. The angle showed the sharp line of his collarbone and that adam’s apple, a few marks evident on his skin, courtesy of you. 

You stared for a second longer than you meant to, completely zoned in how beautiful a few marks made him look. 

You: oh wow  You: don’t you look dashing at one in the morning 

Heeseung only let out a breathy laugh, clearly preening under your praise, as if he hadn’t clicked eight pictures just so he could send you the most perfect one, in his standards at least. 

Heeseung: your turn 

The corner of your lip twitched up as you sat a little, tugged the neckline of your oversized tee down just enough so the soft swell of your tits spilled over the fabric, nipples barely hidden. You angled the camera, snapped it, and hit send without overthinking, knowing that the reply would come within seconds, and so it did. 

Heeseung: fuck Heeseung: you’re actually evil

You laughed under your breath and sent another one right after, taking off your tee fully, letting him know how hard your nipples had gotten already. 

You: now you. don’t be shy baby

Heeseung sent back a shot of his hand shoved down his sweats, gripping himself. The outline was obvious, the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband, flushed and already leaking. Then another one—his hand mid-stroke, thumb smearing the precum over the head. A low, rather shaky breath left his lips in the process, and he swore he hadn’t ever been the type to be so—so evidently horny before. 

You’d say you bring out the worst in people, but Heeseung would contradict it with a goofy smile saying how it’s the absolute best. With that thought, he hit sent. 

Heeseung: this is what you do to me

Your mouth went dry, the picture being enough for you to spread your legs under the duvet, only to push the duvet away entirely before angling your phone properly to ensure the slick on your cunt would be visible in the picture. 

You: see what you’re missing? Heeseung: jesus christ i’m actually throbbing

You bit down on your bottom lip, absolutely letting the pleasure of having Heeseung in control take over. So, instead of texting back, you tapped the voice message button and held it down.

Your voice came through low and teasing, a little breathy already.

“Aw, poor baby, you’re throbbing just from a picture? C’mon, lemme hear how good it feels, hm?”

You sent it without thinking twice, and he was quick to listen, his dick twitching just as he heard your voice. A few seconds later his voice message came back—husky, a little embarrassed, but clearly turned on. 

“Fuck—you’re so mean,” he whispered, which almost came out as a whine, “I’m so hard it hurts. I’m stroking it slow at first, like this—” You could hear the faint, wet sound of his hand moving, “but I keep thinking about how wet you looked in that last pic. Want my mouth on you so bad right now.”

You caressed your clit gently, letting your head fall back at his not so shy admissions. It was hot how he didn’t shy away from speaking his mind. 

“Hmm, good boy—keep stroking just like that. Faster now, I want to hear how desperate you sound for me. Tell me exactly what you’d do if you were here.”

His next voice message was even shakier, breathing heavier.

“I’d pull you on top of me, let you grind on my cock while you tell me how you want it. Fuck—I’d let you use me however you want. I’d suck on your tits while you ride me, make you moan my name louder, please take my name, please?”

You let out a soft, breathy moan right into your reply.

“Yeah? You like when I boss you around, Heeseung? Touch yourself exactly how I would. Tighten your grip—I know you’re close already, aren’t you?”

Heeseung’s voice cracked in the next voice note, barely above a whisper.

“Shit—yeah, I’m so close, your voice is driving me insane. Ah, fuck, wanna bury my face between your thighs right now—”

You were breathing harder too, fingers moving faster. You sent one last voice message, letting your voice be sultry. 

“Then cum for me, Hee. Let me hear it. I want you moaning my name when you do.”

That did it for him, he could barely even keep the phone in his hand, shivering at the hyper awareness of it all, of you. 

Somehow, you knew exactly the predicament he was undergoing, and you decided to spare the poor man, hitting the call button to free his hands. He picked up after a single ring. 

“Fuck—you’re actually perfect,” he panted, the wet sound of his hand still audible. “I’ve never been this gone from just voice messages before.”

You laughed softly, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a quiet moan, “then don’t stop. Stroke it faster for me, yeah? Be good, I want to hear every sound you make while you think about fucking me.”

Heeseung groaned, clearly trying (and failing) to stay quiet because of his friends, who were in the living room. “Feels so good but it’s not enough—I keep imagining you riding me, telling me to go harder, shit,—”

“You’re doing so well,” you praised, clenching around your fingers as he moans out your name, “imagine it’s my pussy instead of your hand. I’m so fucking wet for you right now. You’d slide in so easy, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah—fuck, I would,” he whimpered, “I’d let you use me however you want. I’d let you choke me while you ride me, I don’t even care anymore—”

You moaned louder, fingers curling just right, “yeah, yeah, just keep talking like that and I’m gonna cum, be good c’mon, you’ll cum with me, yeah?”

Heeseung’s breathing turned ragged, desperate little sounds slipping out, “i’m so close—gonna—fuck, Y/N—”

You came first, moaning his name all soft and filthy into the phone. He followed right after with a choked groan, trying to muffle it against his pillow but failing miserably, and god knows what would happen if Sunoo (who was there all thanks to Sunghoon) was to witness this. 

For a long moment the only thing between you was heavy breathing.

Then Heeseung let out a soft, wrecked little laugh, making you grin lazily, “you did so well, Hee.”

He didn’t expect that, making him whine again, and you swore you could run to see him all flushed and blushing, “you’re so perfect.”

Your breath hitched at his whispered words, gulping as you stayed silent, letting your breathing even out. He was quiet for a beat too, but his mind wasn’t stopping at that. 

“Hey, uh I saw what you did earlier, in the hallway, with Mina.”

You blinked, surprised, “wait, you were there?”

“Yeah. I was a little further back, but i heard everything.” His voice dropped, almost like he was in awe, “the way you shut her down for me—defended me like that without even thinking. It was really fucking hot. Couldn’t stop thinking about it all night, that’s why I texted you.”

You let out a low chuckle at how unpredictable he was, “so that’s the real reason you were sending me nudes and moaning my name like a desperate little slut at one a.m., huh?”

If praises led Heeseung to moan, the degradation caused him to cry—not in a bad way of course. It was new for him too, as if he was learning about himself through you. And the voice you heard was beautiful, a broken cry of his desperation. 

“I see you’re into degradation,” you pointed out. 

“Fucking hell, even I didn’t know,” he breathed out, eyes closing. 

You only smirked, getting closer to the phone now.

“Wanna test how it plays out?”

“Why the fuck did Hoon just tell me you’re fucking Heeseung?” 

It was rather hard to distinguish his tone when he sounded both impressed and mad. Turns out, he was mad since he didn’t hear it from you first, then, he was impressed with how fast you moved on. Regardless, he didn’t let you live that down, trying to force the group together, only to see Heeseung squirming and you being absolutely normal. 

You were sitting cross-legged on your bed, still in the oversized hoodie you’d thrown on after your morning shower, when Sunoo burst through the door, Winter followed, sipping an iced latte and looking far too amused for someone who was supposed to be your emotional support. And so another interrogation session took place, which you survived (somehow). 

Other than that, things had been normal. A few changes did occur such as you all having lunch together, even Winter invited her girlfriend, making the group seem livelier than ever. Jake made it his mission to sit next to you each time, and Heeseung—well, he stared at you more than he ate. 

That pattern followed you straight into your English lecture later that afternoon. You slipped into your usual seat in the middle row, barely five minutes late, when Riki dropped into the chair right beside you, and you looked up at him, surprised. 

Heeseung walked in later, eyes on how you greeted the guy easily, and with that, he almost walked into someone. He could only manage to groan, because why wouldn’t you talk to him? To be fair, you did talk to him, like a friend, but never more, no initiation of any sort. Heeseung was the one who texted first, and he didn’t mind, but with how soft hearted he was, he probably wouldn’t mind you texting first either. 

That being said, Heeseung was basically sulk incarnate watching how you made plans to give Riki a coffee for some reason—was it a date? Why would you even like that tall kid? Heeseung knew you better despite the little time he spent with you. It was a given that you didn’t offer much about yourself despite your outgoing personality, but he did know how you played with your nails, how your eyes go wide when you eat something good, and how fucking good you sound moaning his name. 

“We’re all going to the cafe,” Sunoo chirped the second you stepped outside after the class, Heeseung following behind to see all his friends standing there too. 

You did find it odd how he was silent today, too silent, even worse when he didn’t try to initiate any conversation with you, just falling into step with his friends instead. His hands were shoved deep in his hoodie pockets, shoulders a little hunched as the group started moving.

Halfway there he slowed down just enough to tug Jay’s sleeve, voice low and trying way too hard to sound casual, “Hey, can you do me a favour?”

Jay only raised his brow, urging him to continue, “uh, so when we sit down, maybe ask Y/N something that’ll get her talking, like the stuff going on in her life, just anything.”

Jay stopped dead for half a second, then let out a loud, wheezing laugh that practically bounced off the buildings. The sound was so sudden and genuine that you actually turned around mid-conversation with Karina and Winter, eyebrows raised like you were trying to figure out what was so funny. Jay just waved you off, still cracking up as he clapped Heeseung on the back a little too hard.

“You’re actually hopeless,” Jay wheezed, trying to keep his voice down but failing miserably, “just talk to her yourself, what the fuck.”

Heeseung shoved him off, cheeks hot, “shut up, man. Just—just do it, okay? Please.”

They caught up to the rest of the group right as you all reached the café. The usual corner table was free, so everyone piled in. Jake, of course, immediately dropped into the seat next to you like it was his assigned spot now. Heeseung ended up straight across from you, eyes meeting yours, but this time, he didn’t look away. The corner of your lips twitched seeing him this way, and soon, he found himself smiling fondly too. 

Jay sat there as a witness to Heeseung’s internal breakdown, and well, happiness caused by two seconds of your undivided attention. In the midst of it all, everyone gave their orders, famished beyond words for some reason. The table was lively still, Jake trying to initiate conversations with you, even though Heeseung had not so subtly kicked him under the table to shut him up. 

Jay waited until there was a small lull, then leaned forward with that lazy grin of his.

“So Y/N,” he said casually, like it was no big deal, “what’s the deal with you and Heeseung lately? You two been hanging out a lot or what? He’s been weirdly smiley these days.”

Heeseung’s heart did a stupid little flip, face clearly trying to play it cool, but his eyes were glued to you, waiting.

You took a sip of your drink and shrugged, knowing that if you say anything remotely wrong, Sunoo and Winter would be on your ass about it, “it’s nice hanging out with him, he’s funny.”

Jay snorted at how Heeseung’s smile widened, “funny, huh? That’s all you’re giving us?”

Before you could answer, Jake jumped in, mouth full of his cup ramen, which he somehow got into the cafe, “god, I shouldn’t have gotten Shin, I’m telling you, nothing beats Buldak. You team Buldak too, Y/N?”

Heeseung looked rather offended, “nah, Shin’s better, broth tastes better too.”

Jake immediately turned to you with those big puppy eyes, “c’mon, tell him he’s wrong. Buldak or nothing, right?”

Sunoo and Sunghoon couldn’t even stand this, staring at Jake with the same expression of disgust, his fascination for you was genuinely funny. 

You looked up at Hee, who waited for your answer with shiny eyes, then back at Jake again. Maybe teasing Heeseung wouldn’t hurt, right? Especially when he looked so innocent and serious about your input as if it mattered. 

“I mean, Buldak is definitely good,” you agreed with Jake, taking another sip of your mango matcha. 

Jake beamed at the reply, bumping your shoulder. But Heeseung’s smile faltered for a second, and you almost frowned, not expecting him to surrender, “yeah, fair enough,” he muttered, staying silent the rest of the time, eyes flicking up to you every few seconds, while you observed him openly.

Jay only sighed, and somehow Winter was just as exhausted at the exchange, because Heeseung couldn’t hide his feelings to save his life, and you?

You were missing the point of this little conversation entirely. 

When everyone finally started packing up for their next lectures, the group split off in different directions. You noticed Heeseung hanging back a little, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders still hunched as he walked alone. With a chuckle, you jogged a couple steps, and grabbed his hand.

Heeseung startled hard, eyes going wide as he looked down at your fingers laced with his, and how perfect your new acrylics looked, the touch being enough to make a shiver go up his spine, “Y/N—?”

You only walked further, swinging your joined hands, “why so silent today?” You asked, looking up at him with a brow raised. 

He let out a small breath, eyes flickering back to where your thumb brushed his knuckles, “it’s nothing, just thinking I guess.”

“Hm, about how I picked Buldak over Shin?” You tilted your head, “you got all quiet after that. Kinda cute, actually.”

Heeseung glanced away, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself, “It’s not that, but Jake looked happy, so—yeah.”

“Shin’s my favourite actually, I only said Buldak to see you fight back, but yeah,” you shrugged with a smile. 

Heeseung’s head snapped back toward you, surprised, “wait, really?”

“Yeah. Remember that night we ran into each other at the convenience store? You were grabbing Shin too, I noticed.” You pointed out, “and you barely ate anything at the café either. Come over later? We can have ramen together.”

Heeseung’s steps slowed at the implication, and it showed on his face, mixed with the fondness of the simple fact that you noticed such little things. He wasn’t the kind of guy who needed grand gestures, yes he’d appreciate it, but the little things mattered more. 

“You—noticed that?” He asked quietly, almost shy.

You hummed, then leaned up on your toes, lips brushing the shell of his ear, “you can eat something else too if you want.”

That sent him into this mode of short circuiting, and before he could even form a reply, you let go of his hand with a bright, mischievous laugh and took off running ahead across the path, glancing back at him over your shoulder with that same playful grin.

Heeseung stood there for half a second, face burning, your words looping in his head like a damn song on repeat. Then a big, flustered smile broke across his face and he took off after you, knowing he’d catch up to you in no time. 

“Fuck,” he yelled, half-laughing as he chased you down the walkway, “you can’t just say that and run—get back here!”

He really hoped it could always stay this easy with you.

You fell on your mattress with a thud, the springs creaking under the sudden weight of both of you. Heeseung landed right on top, chest pressed to yours, mouth already chasing yours in a hungry, desperate kiss that tasted like the faint strawberry from his drink earlier. 

His lips were hot and insistent, tongue sliding against yours like he couldn’t get close enough, letting out every bit of his frustration into this kiss. One of his hands shoved under your hoodie and straight into your shorts, two fingers gliding through your slick folds before pushing inside you without hesitation. You gasped into his mouth, thighs falling open wider as he curled them deep, stroking that spot that made your back arch clean off the bed.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he breathed against your lips, and you only sank in further, kissing all the way down to his neck, letting an open mouthed kiss linger on his adam’s apple, feeling it blobbing under you as he gulped in need, as if parched. 

Heeseung let out a shaky groan, fingers stuttering inside you for a second before he doubled down, thrusting them deeper, curling harder, “shit—you’re gonna make me lose it just from that.”

You smiled against his throat, sucking lightly, then dragged your teeth over the same spot while your hand kept working his cock in slow, tight strokes. He was throbbing in your palm, hot and slick with precum, hips twitching every time your thumb swept over the head, and you almost moaned cause he was big. 

But it wasn’t enough, you wanted him under you, wanted to watch him fall apart.

You pushed at his chest, flipping him onto his back in one smooth motion. Heeseung let out a surprised grunt as you straddled his thighs, yanking his pants and boxers down just far enough. His cock sprang free, flushed dark and glistening, curving up against his stomach.

Wrapping your fingers around his base as you leaned in to give his tip a slow kiss, making him moan shamelessly, “wait—you don’t have to,” he managed to let out. 

You looked up at him, lips brushing the wet slit as you spoke, “I know, I want to,” you whispered, “been thinking about having you in my mouth since you were sulking on the way here, just to apologize, y’know?”

Heeseung’s breath hitched, “god—you’re serious?”

Instead of answering, you took him in, lips stretching around the thick head, tongue pressing flat against the underside as you sank down. The taste of him filled your mouth, salty and warm, and you moaned softly around his length.

“Shit—baby,” Heeseung’s hand flew to your hair, holding on like he needed something to ground him, his thighs tensing under you, “your mouth feels—so fucking good.”

You hummed in response, taking him deeper until he bumped the back of your throat. You relaxed around him, swallowing, and he let out a broken groan, hips twitching up before he caught himself.

“Sorry—gosh I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. 

You pulled off just enough to speak, lips shiny, a thin string of spit still connecting you to him, “don’t apologize. Fuck my throat if you want to.” You stroked him slow and firm, eyes locked on his, “I can take it, I want you to use me.”

Heeseung’s eyes darkened. He’d never done this before, sure he’d gotten blowjobs, but the permission to take in full control of it? Oh, he swore he was gonna die, “you’re gonna kill me saying shit like that.”

You chuckled and sank back down, taking him all the way until your nose brushed his stomach. You held there for a second, throat fluttering around him, before you started moving, wet bobs of your head, hand twisting around the base.

Heeseung’s head fell back against the pillow, a wrecked moan spilling out, “fuck, fuck—oh my god.” His fingers tightened in your hair, not forcing, but guiding you a little now, testing the waters, “you like this? Being on your knees for me?”

You moaned around him in answer, the vibration making his hips jerk. You pulled off with a gasp, spit dripping down your chin, “I like when you stop being so polite and just take what you want.” You licked a slow stripe up the underside, eyes never leaving his, “you’re always so sweet, Hee, but i also know how desperate you are, won’t you show it to me like a good fucking boy?”

Heeseung’s breath stuttered, it was almost like a switch flipping. His grip in your hair tightened just a fraction more, and when you took him back in, he let himself thrust up a little, shallow and careful at first.

“Like this?” He asked, voice strained, “tell me if it’s too much.”

You pulled off just enough to speak, lips brushing the head, “Harder, I can take it. Use my throat, baby.”

The words seemed to break something in him. He groaned deep in his chest and started moving his hips with more purpose, fucking into your mouth in short, needy thrusts. You relaxed your throat and let him, moaning encouragement around his cock every time he pushed deeper.

“Fuck, fuck—you’re so good,” he panted, voice cracking, “so fucking good at this. Look at you—taking me so deep.” His free hand came down to cup your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek while he watched himself disappear between your lips, “I didn’t know I liked this so much, watching you choke on me.”

You moaned louder, the praise and the way he was starting to lose control making heat flood between your legs. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder, and Heeseung’s head tipped back again, a string of curses falling from his lips.

“Baby—slow down or I’m gonna cum,” he warned, but his hips kept moving, like he couldn’t stop himself,  “you’re really gonna let me cum down your throat?”

You pulled off with a wet pop, stroking him fast and tight, lips hovering just over the tip, “let me taste you.”

Heeseung’s eyes rolled back as he came with a broken moan of your name, hips jerking as he spilled down your throat in hot pulses. You swallowed every drop, working him through it until he was trembling and oversensitive, little whimpers slipping out every time your tongue moved.

When you finally pulled off, lips swollen and shiny, Heeseung was staring at you like you’d rewired his brain. His chest was heaving, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes dark and hazy.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, voice shot, “I didn’t know I could like something that much.”

You wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumb, smirking as you crawled up his body and kissed him slowly, letting him taste himself on your tongue.

“You’re learning fast,” you murmured against his lips. “and we’re just getting started.”

So, you were true to your word, because by the time you both stopped, all breathless and spent, it was nighttime. In the midst of everything, you both had managed to fall asleep tangled with each other. Heeseung was the one to wake up first, caressing your cheek as he stared at how peacefully you slept in his arms. 

He stayed like that for a long minute, thumb brushing the apple of your cheek, watching the way your lashes rested against your skin. Something heavy settled in his chest—not regret exactly, but a quiet, gnawing guilt that refused to leave him alone.

Carefully, he slipped out from under you, tucking the blanket around your bare shoulders so you wouldn’t get cold. He padded over to the window on quiet feet, pushing the curtain aside just enough to look out at the dark sky. The campus lights glowed faintly in the distance, stars barely visible through the city haze.

Heeseung pressed his forehead against the cool glass, exhaling slowly. What the fuck am I doing? The thought looped in his head. He’d loved Mina—or at least he’d told himself he did. They’d been together for over a year. But even on the best nights with her, he’d never felt this—free, this wanted. With you, you didn’t ask him to be anything other than exactly who he was in the moment, needy, desperate, a little mean when you pushed him, soft when you let him hold you after. Just a hint of your attention made his chest feel too full and that scared the shit out of him.

Because he’d sworn he loved Mina. But this? He wasn’t even sure what to name this feeling anymore, and it felt dramatic when nothing had even happened, just freedom and the best pleasure he’d ever experienced. 

The floor creaked softly behind him, making him turn his head to find you sitting up in bed now, hair messy, eyes still heavy with sleep. Without saying anything, you reached for his hoodie that had been tossed on the floor earlier and pulled it over your head. It swallowed you, the hem brushing your thighs as you padded over barefoot to stand beside him.

You leaned your shoulder against the window frame, looking out at the same dark sky. For a moment neither of you spoke.

“You okay?” You asked eventually, voice soft.

Heeseung, however, was in deep thoughts of silent appreciation, because you looked beautiful, you always did, “yeah,” he let out a quiet breath, “I feel like an asshole for even saying this out loud, but—I don’t remember it ever feeling this easy with Mina, even when things were good. With you it’s just different. Like I don’t have to pretend or hold back or be anyone else. I don’t know. That probably sounds stupid.”

You stayed quiet for a second, then bumped your shoulder gently against his, “it doesn’t sound stupid. You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel, Hee, it’s valid. You don’t owe her anything anymore, and you don’t owe me some perfect version of yourself either, okay?”

“You’re too nice to me,” he mumbled. 

You smiled, looking elsewhere for a moment as you gulped, “that’s what friends are for,” you let out. 

Heeseung turned to look at you fully, friends, is that what you were? Because friends don’t do all this. So, Heeseung only managed to muster one question, hoping the reply would be enough of an action to understand if he was truly alone in this or not.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper with the hope to earn even something as little as a nod. 

This means something more, you thought. This isn’t just sex anymore, not for him. Truly, Heeseung wasn’t even the kind to do this, so why did he agree to this? You wouldn’t mind being a rebound for him but him getting attached would be a problem. Would it really, though? You should’ve said no, but you found yourself being entranced by the beauty in his eyes. 

So, instead you stepped closer, sliding your hands up his bare chest, and tilted your face up to his, “yeah,” you whispered, “you can.”

Heeseung’s breath caught as he cupped your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks like you were something fragile, slotting his lips onto yours almost achingly gentle, this almost felt like a question and an answer all at once to him. 

When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he let out a shaky little laugh, pecking the corner of your mouth once. 

The reflection on the window catching on everything you both were too afraid to admit. 

Honestly, the fault was yours for not discussing the boundaries or making one of those contracts like they do in the movies or books (though they never work), cause now, you and Heeseung had been hanging around way more often, some witnesses might even confuse this intimacy for dating. 

Maybe Heeseung was one of them, because when he texted you to come over, you half expected sex, not sitting alongside him learning League of legends at two in the morning. He was unpredictable to say the least, but he did wear his heart on his sleeve, so you could see the bits and pieces of the things he craved, and right now, he craved your time. 

You didn’t mind giving it to him, but it did come with a cost. The second you walked into the room, eyes widening at this small corner of the desk where a mango matcha, a few blue walkers, and a pack of Ferrero Rocher was placed neatly, alongside two packets of cup noodles (just in case). 

To Heeseung, it was normal, and you would have agreed had it been some synonym of aftercare, but no. It was just Heeseung being absolutely willing (and needing) to spend more time with you outside of your fancy little arrangement. 

He had opened the door with a smile so contagious, you mirrored it as he led you inside. A small corner of his desk was full of snacks, a cup of matcha which he knew was your favourite, a couple of Ferrero Rochers because he saw you eating those during the English lecture. You stood there for a second longer than intended, staring at it all, then at the man who had already made himself comfortable on the spare chair, waiting for you with the same gentle smile he always carried around you, making you gulp for a second before you returned it. 

“C’mere? Sit with me,” he said, patting his main gaming chair right next to him, and he half expected you to tease him for doing this, “I swear I’m not trying to be weird, and if you don’t wanna do this we can stop, or you can make fun of me.”

You let out a quiet huff of a laugh and kicked your shoes off before sliding into the chair beside him. Your knee bumped his under the desk and you left it there, the contact warm even through your clothes. Heeseung rolled his own chair closer right away, leaning in from behind you so his chest brushed lightly against your back, one arm resting along the back of your seat while the other reached around to the mouse, and you didn’t notice how he took in your scent with a dreamy sigh. 

“We’re playing League of Legends?” You asked, and he nodded. 

“Have you played it before?” He asked a little hesitant that you’d say you don’t wish to play or indulge in this. 

“Nope,” you said, reaching for the matcha because your mouth suddenly felt dry. The cup was ice-cold, condensation dripping down your fingers as you took a sip, “I’m probably gonna suck at this, just so you know.”

Heeseung let out a small laugh, relieved that you aren’t opposed to this, “that’s fine, we can start from the basics,” he covered your hand with his on the mouse, guiding you through the first clicks. “You just run at people and spin when they get close. Super easy, I promise.”

His fingers were warm over yours, almost careful like he was scared you’d pull away. You felt the way his chest moved against your back when he breathed, the faint brush of his hair against your neck every time he leaned in a little closer to see the screen better.

You clicked around awkwardly and Garen just kind of—stood there swinging his sword at nothing, “this feels dumb,” you muttered, but you were smiling a little, “I look like a robot trying to dance.”

Heeseung bit his bottom lip at the sheer joy of having you play his favourite game, even though you looked lost, confused, and too adorable, “you don’t look dumb. You look cute as hell trying to figure it out.” He squeezed your hand gently and moved the mouse for you, making Garen run forward. “See? Just click on this, okay?”

You tried it and Garen spun like a big metal tornado, actually hitting a couple of the little enemy guys, “oh okay, that was kinda fun,” you admitted, biting your lip to hide the grin. You reached for one of the Ferrero Rochers with your free hand, unwrapped it, and popped it in your mouth. The chocolate melted sweet and crunchy on your tongue, “how’d you know I like this.”

Heeseung shrugged, his shoulder rubbing against yours, “I pay attention to you, sue me.” He took the half you offered him without hesitation, biting it right from your fingers, his lips brushing your skin for a second too long.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the little flutter in your stomach at how brutally honest he was. He pays attention, he set all this up just so you’d feel comfortable doing something he likes. This isn’t what you signed up for, this is him wanting you around, not just in his bed. Stop feeling it. Stop.

The game kept going, as you died a bunch—running straight into the big tower like an idiot, getting smacked by random enemies—but Heeseung never made you feel stupid about it. He’d just lean in closer, chin resting on your shoulder now, arm wrapped a little tighter around the back of your chair, and murmur stuff like, “try backing up a tiny bit next time, yeah?” Or, “you’re getting the spin down though, that last one actually hit three of them, nice.”

You passed him chips from the blue walkers packet, your fingers brushing his every time. He took them without pulling away, crunching quietly while his other hand stayed on the mouse with yours, guiding you through another wave.

Heeseung couldn’t say this out loud but boy was he thrilled. It felt so nice, so domestic to do something so simple with someone (you). He couldn’t help but compare, simply because he didn’t know the basic possibilities of the relationship universe, though you weren’t in one. His ex never spared time for such things, indifferent about his interests, while you were so—sweet. 

“You’ve done this before? Teaching someone like this, I mean?” You asked after a while, “or am I getting special treatment?”

Heeseung went quiet for a second, then let out a breathy little laugh against your neck, “special treatment,” he admitted, no hesitation, “and no, it’s my first time teaching anyone.”

You leaned back into him a little more without thinking, the warmth of his chest solid and comforting against your back, the kind of solace that you had never had the pleasure of experiencing before. Was it supposed to be this easy? 

The snacks slowly disappeared between you—another Ferrero passed back and forth, the mango matcha cup getting lighter with every sip you took. Heeseung kept talking about random shit that had nothing to do with the game. How Jake had stolen his last ramen again, how he stayed up last night thinking about if aliens eat solid food, or if the Thestrals from Harry Potter can see each other or not. 

You told him about the fanpage you had at fifteen, he listened like it was the most interesting thing ever, thumb stroking slow circles on the back of your hand the whole time.

At some point the first game ended. You were still pretty bad, but you weren’t frustrated anymore. Heeseung’s arm had stayed around you the whole time, his chin heavy on your shoulder, breathing warm against your skin.

He didn’t queue another match right away, instead he just sat there for a second, arms loose around your waist, like he was thinking.

“C’mere,” he murmured, voice a little rough as his hands slid to your hips and he tugged you gently, pulling you straight off the spare chair and into his lap like it was the easiest thing in the world. Your back settled fully against his chest, thighs bracketing his, his arms wrapping around you properly so he could still reach everything if he wanted. The chair creaked once under both of you. You fit too well, way too well.

He rested his chin back on your shoulder and clicked into another custom game like nothing had changed, but his arms stayed tight around your waist, like he didn’t want to let go.

“What are we doing, Hee?” You asked in a low mumble. 

Heeseung went still, arms locking tighter around your waist like the question had burned him, he was afraid you’d bring it up and that’s exactly what you did. You felt him swallow hard, breath shaky against your neck.

He opted to answer with his actions instead, turning your face toward him with one hand and kissing you, lips pressing firm like he’d been dying to do it. His tongue slid in right away, tasting like chocolate and the mango you’d been sharing all night. He made this quiet, embarrassed little sound in his throat and kissed you harder, fingers sliding into your hair to hold you there.

You tried to pull back half an inch, though absolutely feeling your heartbeat fastening at how good the kiss, the warmth felt, “Hee, wait—”

He chased your mouth instantly, cutting you off with another kiss, deeper this time, tongue lazy and filthy against yours. His hand slipped under your top, palm hot and a little unsteady on your bare waist, thumb stroking slow circles like he needed to feel your skin to stay sane. He was breathing hard through his nose, cheeks burning against yours, but he wouldn’t let you speak. Every single time your lips parted he was right there again, kissing you quiet, desperate and messy like talking would ruin whatever this was.

“Bed,” he mumbled against your mouth. He stood up with you still in his lap, hands under your thighs, and carried you the few steps across the room. The second your back hit the mattress he was on top of you, settling between your legs and kissing you again before you could even breathe.

This time it was slower but no less intense. His tongue moved against yours in these long, deep strokes while one hand pushed further under your top, palm flat on your stomach, sliding up until his fingers brushed the edge of your bra. His other hand stayed tangled in your hair, tugging gently every time you tried to talk. He was so fucking flustered—ears red, breath shaky, little embarrassed groans slipping out whenever you rolled your hips up into him—but he still wouldn’t let you ask.

Every time you opened your mouth he swallowed it with another kiss, and you groaned, pulling him into you deeper, letting him showcase his feelings through whatever this was, and you understood it, but couldn’t stop it or ask any further, because you knew he’d deflect as if it scared him. 

As if  the only answer he could give was this.

You were decent at saying no, in fact, some might even admit how good you were at it, blunt as fuck. But that ability was limited to the world and it most certainly didn’t apply to this glorious six foot tall man who wished for you to join him at the basketball court. You could have made up some excuse, maybe tell him you have a lab report due, but you didn’t do that—because you wanted to go. 

“This is getting ridiculous,” said Winter, watching you change into a loose t-shirt and old shorts, “you hate sports. You once told me basketball was just a bunch of giants running in circles. Now you’re rushing out at night because Heeseung said come watch me play? And you’re dressing up the part too?”

You shrugged, tying your hair up, “It’s not that deep. I’m bored.”

“Sure, tell yourself that,” she mumbled with her brow raised. 

Well, she wasn’t exactly wrong, but you didn’t care much as you made your way out towards the court which was lit up by some harsh floodlights, looking over to find some guys already deep in the game. You could spot Heeseung, Chenle, Beomgyu, and Sunghoon—t-shirts sticking to their backs. 

Nics (Chenle’s girlfriend) and Moon (Sunghoon’s girlfriend) were already on the bleachers with their chaotic friend, Ricey, who always carried snacks in her bag. The second they spotted you, Nics waved you over with a grin, patting the spot next to her. 

Heeseung was mid-dribble when his head snapped in your direction, the ball bouncing once before he caught it against his hip. Even from across the court you could see the way his face softened, that small, stupidly genuine smile breaking through like usual. He lifted his free hand in a quick wave. 

“Yo, Y/N’s here!” Chenle shouted, grinning like an idiot as he wiped sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt, “perfect timing, let’s do girls versus boys now.”

Nics hopped off the bleachers first, already pulling her hair up, “final-fucking-ly. Come on, we’re making this four on four.”

Moon laughed and stood up too, nudging Ricey, “you in or are you just gonna sit there eating chips the whole time?”

Ricey popped another chip in her mouth before standing, “I’m in, but if I break a nail I’m blaming all of you.”

You didn’t get a chance to sit as you got dragged into the court. Heeseung jogged over to you, still breathing a little hard, hair messy and damp. Up close he smelled like sweat and that familiar woody cologne, and the way he looked at you made you shiver. 

“You actually came,” he breathed, grabbing your arm without thinking much at all. 

“Couldn’t let you embarrass yourself alone,” you replied, stealing the ball from his hands just to mess with him. He laughed, eyes crinkling, and for a second it felt like the rest of the court disappeared.

But boy was it chaotic with Moon just distracting Hoon half the time, Nics and Chenle spent the time arguing—which was clearly their way of flirting, meanwhile Ricey was enjoying the drama in the middle of this all. The game was messy, and oh so loud.

You mostly ended up guarding Heeseung, and he was clearly not focused on winning anymore.

The first time you drove past him, he barely tried to block you, just let you slip by with this stupid little smile on his face. When you scored, he was the first one clapping, muttering under his breath, “fuck, that was hot,” loud enough for Beomgyu to hear and immediately start laughing.

“You’re not even guarding her properly!” Sunghoon yelled, hands on his knees, “you just watched her score and looked proud as hell!”

Heeseung didn’t even deny it, just shrugged, eyes still locked on you as you dribbled back. 

“She’s fast,” he said, but the way he said it was way too soft, and he wondered why he called you with others around when he should’ve done this one on one, but even then, he was thrilled to see you fit in so well with everyone. 

The court lights hummed overhead, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt, your oversized t-shirt clung to your skin in damp patches, the thin cotton sticking to the curve of your waist and the small of your back every time you moved. Heeseung’s eyes kept dropping to where the hem rode up every time you moved, and honestly? You liked it.

You caught the ball again and drove straight at him. This time his hand found your waist right away, palm warm through the damp fabric, thumb brushing under the hem like he couldn’t help himself. You spun past anyway, shoulder bumping his chest, and laid it up clean. When you landed he was still there, fingers lingering on your hip for a second longer than necessary.

“Shit, you’re good,” he muttered by your ear.

Beomgyu groaned loud enough for everyone to hear, “Heeseung, your hand was literally on her the whole time!”

Sunghoon just shook his head, “I can’t watch this anymore.”

A few plays later you slowed right in front of him, dribbling lazy, then hit him with the pout—bottom lip out, eyes big. Heeseung’s shoulders dropped instantly, “come on, that’s cheating,” he whined, but he was already stepping aside, hand sliding to your hip again as you blew past and scored.

Ricey started cracking up from the fence. “He folded. Let’s fucking go!”

Nics and Moon were dying, “Y/N, you’re actually evil,” Moon yelled, “like—look at him.”

The game kept going like that, every time you got near him his hands were on your waist or lower back, like he needed the excuse to touch you. After one layup he caught you around the middle when you landed, pulling you back against his chest for a second, chin brushing your shoulder.

“You’re killing me out here,” he said quietly, thumb rubbing slow against your side.

You turned your head, “stop letting me win so obviously.”

“Can’t,” he admitted, fingers flexing on your hip, “can’t stop you.”

Final possession got you dribbling right up to him. He stepped up, but the second you gave him the pout he let out a soft laugh and just gave up, both hands settling on your waist.

“Go win, baby,” he whispered, not even trying to hide it anymore as you drove and laid it in clean.

Game over.

Nics scooped you up spinning you once while Moon and Ricey cheered like idiots. The second your feet hit the ground Heeseung was there, arm sliding around your waist and pulling you back against him. His t-shirt was damp against yours, heartbeat steady on your back.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured into your hair, thumb still tracing slow circles on your hip under the hem, “didn’t even wanna stop you.”

You leaned into him, grinning, “you had your hands on me the whole second half.”

“Yeah,” he said, no shame at all, “felt too good.”

Heeseung didn’t get to talk more as a fuming Chenle grabbed his collar and dragged him away for what seemed to be some good beating. 

Moon and Nics immediately grabbed your arms at the opportunity and pulled you a few steps away, cornering you near the fence while Heeseung was distracted talking (arguing) to Chenle.

“Okay, spill,” Moon said, “what the hell is going on with you two? Because that was not subtle.”

Nics nodded, still half-laughing, “girl, he had his hands on your waist like every single play. He’s so into you it’s actually funny.”

You tried to play it cool, wiping sweat off your neck with the bottom of your shirt, “It’s not like that. We’re just—hanging out? No strings, y’know?”

They waited for you to say you’re joking, or just laugh, but then none of it came and they gasped, collectively. 

“You’re not serious,” Moon deadpanned. 

Nics’ eyes went huge, “wait. You’re actually serious.”

Ricey let out a low whistle, leaning against the fence, “damn, Y/N. I thought you were messing with us.”

You shrugged, trying to laugh it off, but the sound came out rather shaky. Your stomach did that stupid little flip again, like your body was calling you a liar before your mouth could. The cool night air on your damp neck suddenly felt too cold, and your t-shirt clung uncomfortably to your skin, “I mean, yeah, that’s the deal. We both said it from the start.”

The words felt flat even as you said them. Your eyes drifted across the court before you could stop yourself. Chenle still had Heeseung in that dramatic headlock, ranting about how embarrassing he was, but Heeseung wasn’t even pretending to fight back. His head turned and his gaze found yours instantly through the mess of hair falling in his face. That soft, stupid little smile tugged at his lips like getting chewed out didn’t matter at all. Just you did.

Your chest squeezed as you looked away, but Moon followed your stare and let out a quiet oh, “girl, look at him right now. He’s getting yelled at and he’s still staring at you like that? Come on.”

Nics nudged your side. “he had his hands on your waist literally every single time you got near him. Called you baby in front of all of us. Folded like a lawn chair the second you pouted. That’s a man catching feelings and not even trying to hide it.”

Ricey nodded, arms crossed, “for real. We were all watching, he was playing how many times can I touch my girl without getting called out.”

You swallowed, heat creeping up your neck that had nothing to do with the game anymore, “It’s not like that,” you mumbled but even you could hear how unsure you sounded. The way Heeseung was still looking at you made the label feel thinner than your sweaty t-shirt.

Before anyone could push harder, Chenle finally shoved Heeseung away with one last groan. Heeseung jogged back over, hair wrecked, cheeks flushed, but his eyes were already locked on you again. His arm slid around your waist without hesitation, palm warm and familiar against the damp fabric like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You guys done roasting her yet?” He asked, voice light and a little out of breath. 

Ricey snorted, “not even close.”

Heeseung just grinned and pulled you closer, chin brushing the top of your head. You leaned into him without thinking, the solid warmth of his side against yours making that chest-tight feeling even worse. Or better, you couldn’t tell anymore.

Your newfound friends exchanged a look behind his back, but you caught it anyway.

Whatever this was—it didn’t feel like no strings anymore. Not even a little.

Heeseung always thought that his partner would an extension of his very soul, and he never achieved that. Maybe the saying can be moulded into perspectives of sort, perhaps connection wasn’t about mirroring souls but about finding someone who made the fractures feel intentional, beautiful even.

He mindlessly knocked on the door, heart drumming an uneven rhythm against his ribs, not expecting the door to open so quickly, his breath hitching at the sight of you in front of him. 

Maybe your partner isn’t supposed to be an extension of you, but rather someone who’d stand on the opposite side of the spectrum and still look like a perfect puzzle when fitted together. 

You stood there like a living poem rendered in silk—clad in a breathtaking white gown that slipped over your skin with liquid grace, the delicate fabric catching the hallway’s muted glow, the thin straps tracing the delicate architecture of your collarbones like a lover’s fingertip. It moved with you, shimmering faintly, alive with every subtle shift of your weight. Your hair styled perfectly, lips glossed to a tempting sheen, and the whole vision struck him so viscerally that the air in his lungs simply vanished.

You looked beautiful, like an angel in all white, while he stood in front of you in a black leather jacket, juxtaposing every bit of elegance you exuded. 

Heeseung forgot how to breathe quite literally as time fractured around him. His gaze dragged over you in helpless reverence, while a razor-edged thought sliced through the haze. Are you going out? On a date? With someone else? The image of another man’s eyes tracing that same silk, another hand brushing the curve of your waist beneath it, coiled hot and ugly in his chest, stealing what little breath he had left.

“Hee?” You asked with a smile, tilting your head with genuine surprise, “what are you doing here?”

He gulped, forcing his eyes back up and oxygen to cooperate within him, “you’re breathtaking,” he managed, “I forgot what I came for.”

Warmth crept up your neck at the nervousness of the man in front of you, he was adorable—shifting from one leg to the other, playing with his fingers, as if the simple act of standing there might unravel him completely. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, cheeks flushed a soft rose, and those wide, doe-like eyes kept flicking back to the silk clinging to your body. You could practically feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat from where you stood, the way his throat worked on another swallow, the subtle tremor in his shoulders as he tried (and failed) to play it cool.

“I, uh—” Heeseung rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a small, embarrassed laugh, “I wanted to show you something. I’ve been carrying it around all day like an idiot because I thought you might like it. Figured tonight could be, I don’t know, nice? Just us.”

Your heart gave a small tug, the evening plans you’d been dreading now sitting like a weight in your chest, “god, Hee—I wish I could,” you said softly, “my parents are in town and we have this family dinner thing tonight. It’s one of those non-negotiable things. I was literally about to walk out the door when you knocked.”

Heeseung’s shoulders dropped just a fraction, disappointment flickering across his face before he quickly tried to smooth it over. He nodded, offering you a small, understanding smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, though he was relieved it wasn’t a boy you’d dressed up for, “no, gosh. It’s okay, I hope you have fun.”

He paused, eyes still lingering on you like he couldn’t help it, “but—if you’re not too tired later, maybe we could still meet up? Even if it’s just for a little while. No pressure or anything, I just—I really like being around you.”

All you could manage was a nod, making him smile wider. It was always a surprise at how clearly Heeseung said whatever he meant, and it wasn’t the best thing for your poor heart, which probably matched Heeseung’s pace now. Bidding goodbye was another problem especially when Heeseung stared till you got inside the cab. The dinner was a haze, your mom staring at your zoned out state with a knowing smile. 

“Who is it?” She sighed finally, making you look up in horror. 

“Mom—no,” you warned, knowing just how interested your family was in gossiping, which didn’t exclude gossip about you by any means. 

“What? She laughed, feigning innocence while your dad hid his grin behind his water glass, “I’m just asking. You’ve been smiling at nothing and zoning out all night, now spill.”

Your cousin leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief, “yeah, girl. You look like you’re thinking about someone. Is he cute? Does he go to your uni?”

Heat flooded your cheeks, “there’s no one,” you lied, though the words felt flimsy even to you, “I’m just tired.”

Your mom reached over and squeezed your wrist gently, “mhm, sure. Whoever he is, he’s lucky if he’s got you looking like this. Just don’t forget to eat, okay? You’re glowing, but you’re also not touching your food.”

You groaned, covering your face with both hands as the table erupted into light laughter. The teasing continued with your dad throwing in a dramatic “If he hurts you, I’ll find him” that made everyone chuckle—but you managed to dodge the worst of it, cheeks burning the whole time. By the time dessert came, your family had mercifully moved on, though your mom’s knowing glances never quite stopped.

Meanwhile, Heeseung stood alone on the rooftop of the main university building, the cool night breeze slipping beneath the collar of his leather jacket and ruffling his dark hair. He’d quietly borrowed the keys from the maintenance office earlier—something he wasn’t proud of, but tonight the small rebellion felt worth it. Up here, the view was stunning. City lights stretched out below like scattered diamonds across black velvet, the crescent moon hung low, casting a silvery glow over everything. He slipped an airpod in, letting his playlist fill the silence. 

His hand drifted to the inner pocket of his jacket, fingers brushing the carefully wrapped item inside. He’d wanted to show it to you tonight, watch your face light up, maybe steal a few more stolen moments of that easy warmth you gave him so effortlessly.

Heeseung leaned against the railing, staring out at the glittering skyline while the music in his earpods played on, and he wondered if you were thinking about him too, somewhere across town amid the family dinner. He didn’t mind waiting, in fact, he was good at it when it meant so much to him. Regardless, every couple of minutes he’d glance at the door, half-convinced he was being ridiculous for waiting up here like some lovesick idiot.

As he turned back again, the faint creak of the door was heard, and he went still. You stepped onto the rooftop still wrapped in that white silk gown, the wind caught the hem immediately, making it swirl softly around your legs, and when you smiled at him—he felt it right in the center of his chest.

“Hi,” you said, voice quiet. 

Heeseung pulled the airpods out slowly, letting them dangle from his fingers, “you—you actually came,” he breathed, the words slipping out before he could stop them, his eyes moved over you again, helpless, “in that dress, god, Y/N.”

You walked closer, heels soft against the concrete, “told you I would. Couldn’t stop thinking about whatever you wanted to show me,” a small laugh escaped you. 

He took a half-step closer, “I wasn’t sure,” he admitted, “but I’m really glad you’re here. You look—” he trailed off, shaking his head with a soft, almost disbelieving smile, “I don’t even have the words tonight, you’re beautiful.”

It was foreign, the way you felt all mushy inside with a compliment, granted you got those all the time, but this felt new. You stopped just inches from him, close enough to see the way the moonlight caught in his dark eyes, the faint flush still lingering on his cheeks, “show me, then,” you whispered. 

Heeseung’s breath caught for the briefest moment. Then he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and drew out a small box wrapped in simple paper, tied with a slender black ribbon. He placed it gently into your waiting hands, his fingers brushing yours with a lingering warmth that sent another quiet flutter through you.

You untied the ribbon, letting the paper fall away until the snow globe rested heavy in your palms. Inside the delicate glass sphere, a tiny couple danced beneath an invisible sky—her in a flowing white dress that mirrored the silk clinging to your body, him in a dark jacket that echoed the leather draped across Heeseung’s shoulders. Their hands were joined, bodies turned toward one another in quiet, perfect harmony. When you tilted the globe, soft white flakes swirled around them like the first gentle snowfall of winter, catching the moonlight in tiny, luminous sparks.

A rush of something overwhelming bloomed low in your stomach, as if butterflies unfurling their wings until your chest felt too full, too light. You looked up at him, eyes wide and shimmering. “Heeseung,” you breathed, “this is us. The dress, the jacket, it’s exactly like us.”

He bit his bottom lip, smiling shyly as he nodded, eyes soft with affection that he never failed to display. “Yeah,” he murmured, stepping closer until the globe rested safely between your bodies, pressed lightly against the silk over your heart, “I know it’s a little cheesy, but when I saw it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

It was yet again when he had rendered you speechless so beautifully, a small smile still graced your lips, and you couldn’t hide it, you didn’t wish to hide it, “it’s not cheesy, it’s beautiful, Hee. Thank you.” 

You held the globe for another heartbeat, letting the tiny flakes swirl and sparkle inside the glass, before you turned gently and set it on the wide concrete railing

Heeseung watched you, nervous as he reached into his pocket, pulling out one of the earpods and holding it out to you between two fingers, “dance with me?” He asked, voice hopeful, “I’ve had this song on repeat—uh, I kept imagining what it would sound like with you here.”

It was as if you were facing the real tale of the entanglement after the initial surface level attraction had worn off, which should’ve made it worse, right? But Heeseung, unlike any other potential love interest you’d met, shone brighter after revealing himself day by day. 

You took the airpod from him without a second’s hesitation and slid it in, that familiar, timeless melody of Everybody Loves Somebody filling your ear like an old friend crooning about love that finds you when you least expect it. Heeseung’s fingers brushed yours as he took your hand, threading them together with a quiet certainty that made your breath hitch. His other palm settled at your waist, warm through the silk, and he drew you in until your bodies met, like they’d been waiting all along. You let your free hand rest against his chest, right over the steady thud of his heart beneath the leather.

Heeseung let out a soft, breathy laugh, “fuck, I actually feel stupid right now,” he muttered, “I’ve never danced before.”

You laughed, leaning into his scent further, “you’re doing great, Hee.”

“Yeah?” Another dorky chuckle rumbled through his chest. He adjusted his hold on you, thumb moving in a slow, absent circle at your waist, “I don’t know, lately I keep catching myself doing shit I never thought I’d do. Like stealing keys to a rooftop, buying a snow globe because it reminded me of you. It’s weird, I feel like I’m figuring out all these parts of myself I didn’t even know were there.”

He stole keys, the thought itself made you chuckle again. You’d once read somewhere that the act of loving someone doesn’t stop at accepting them but furthers by coaxing their selfhood out of them—it felt that way for you too because who would have thought you’d be dancing with someone at a rooftop wearing a gown? 

You squeezed his hand gently, “I like that,” you said, “I like that you’re figuring it out with me.”

The proximity was perfect, yet your bodies kept on gravitating towards each other every few steps, and eventually the melody began to fade. You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, the position mirroring that of the snow globe miniatures. Taking another step, you leaned forward just enough to slot your lips against his, almost as if breathing each other in, lips parting at the same time before pressing into a gentle peck. Heeseung exhaled shakily against you, his hand tightening at your waist for a second like he was trying to remember how to breathe.

When you finally drew back, you gave him that smile you knew he couldn’t resist. You slipped the airpod out of your ear and dropped it into his open palm, fingers brushing his one last time. At the same time you reached over, picked up the snow globe from the railing, and tucked it carefully against your chest.

“Night, baby,” you whispered as you turned toward the door.

Heeseung just stood there, completely still, breathing a little harder than before. His eyes were wide and utterly lovestruck as he watched you walk away. The rooftop door clicked shut behind you, but he didn’t move for a long time—just stayed right where he was under the moonlight, that dazed, helpless smile slowly taking over his face.

You were panting as Heeseung pressed his lips on the base of your spine, sending a shiver up your back. He hadn’t been patient pulling you in his bed, turning you over to unzip your dress. He groaned with each kiss as if he was pleasuring himself instead of you while savouring every inch of skin exposed. 

Heeseung pressed his forehead against the middle of your back for a second, breathing hard, “you’re trembling,” he whispered against you, “is my mouth really making you feel that good?” He kissed between your shoulder blades, then higher, until his lips brushed the nape of your neck, “tell me, baby. Tell me how wet you are right now just from this.”

“So wet,” you gasped, pushing your hips back against him, “Hee—please.”

He let out a broken groan and shoved your panties to the side with impatient fingers, not even bothering to pull them off. The thick head of his cock nudged against your slick entrance, hot and heavy, before he sank into you in one long, relentless thrust.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound guttural as he bottomed out, stretching you wide, “you’re soaking my cock, baby. So fucking tight and wet for me.” He pulled back slowly, then drove in again, harder, the wet slap of skin echoing in the room, “listen to that. Hear how greedy your pussy is for me?”

You cried out, fingers clawing at the sheets as he set a deep, punishing rhythm, each stroke dragging perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you.

“Heeseung—oh god, yes—” your voice broke on a moan, tears of overwhelming pleasure already stinging your eyes, “harder—please, I need it harder.”

Heeseung cursed under his breath and fucked you deeper, hips snapping forward with filthy precision, “like this?” He panted, voice hoarse “you want me to ruin this pretty little pussy? Tell me how good it feels, baby. I want to hear you fall apart.”

“It feels so good,” you sobbed, pushing back to meet every thrust, “you’re so deep—fuck, Hee, I can’t—”

The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, white-hot and devastating, until it finally snapped.

“I love you—” the words tore out of you, raw and desperate, “Heeseung, I love you—”

He froze mid-thrust, buried to the hilt inside you, body going completely rigid.

“What?” His voice was barely a whisper, shocked and trembling.

You whimpered, hips twitching helplessly around his cock, the confession spilling out again in a blurry, broken rush, “I love you, I love you so much—”

Heeseung pulled out suddenly, making you whine at the loss. In one swift motion he flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with wide, dark eyes and a chest that heaved like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“Say it again,” he demanded, voice hoarse and shaking as he stared down at you, one hand cupping your jaw, “look at me and say it again, baby. Please.”

Your eyes were glassy, lips parted on a shaky breath, but the words seemed to have blurred, your face disappearing right in front of his eyes as you said, “I love—” 

He woke up with a sharp, ragged gasp, bolting upright in his own bed, heart slamming violently against his ribs. The room was dark and silent except for his own frantic breathing. Sweat slicked his skin, and when he looked down, the front of his sweatpants was soaked with a warm, sticky mess.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered hoarsely, dragging a trembling hand down his face, cheeks burning with heat.

It was hard for him to contain himself when this is all he could dream of the past six days, feeling it deep despite it being a dream. Wet dream was fine really, but the confession that echoed? Yeah, that definitely made Heeseung feel eccentric because he needed to hear that for real despite the terms of the relationship between you both. It was bound to bloom into something more.

You two had fallen into a rhythm that didn’t need a label really. He showed up outside your lectures with your stupidly specific drink (matcha), the one with the exact ratio you liked, because he’d paid attention the one time you made a face at the wrong version. You’d started leaving your oversized hoodie at his place just so you could steal his instead and he could wear yours, the sleeves swallowing your hands while you lounged on his bed scrolling through your phone. He noticed how you always tugged at your bottom lip when you were thinking too hard, how you stole the last sip of his drink without asking, how your shoulders relaxed the second you kicked your shoes off after a long day. You noticed the way he rubbed the bridge of his nose when he was tired but too stubborn to admit it, the soft little hum he made when something tasted exactly right, the way his eyes lingered on you a beat longer than necessary whenever you laughed at something dumb he said.

You weren’t calling it dating, you weren’t calling it anything. But you also weren’t fighting it. You’d never been the type to deny yourself something that made you feel good, and Heeseung made you feel good in a way that snuck up on you. So you let yourself have it without the complications of overthinking. 

Later that morning, Heeseung walked across campus still half-dazed from the dream, that stupid, lingering smile refusing to leave his face. The memory of your voice saying those three words kept looping in his head, well, until a voice didn’t wish to hear ruined his train of thoughts. 

“Well, well. If it isn’t the thief.”

Heeseung slowed to a stop and turned. Jaemin stood there with his arms crossed, wearing the same smug, pissed-off expression he used to think was charming.

Heeseung let out a dry, humorless scoff, “thief? That’s fucking hilarious coming from the guy who was literally balls-deep in my ex while we were still together.”

Jaemin stepped closer, eyes narrowing, “whatever helps you sleep at night. You really think you’re gonna keep her interested?” His voice dripped with condescension, “Y/N doesn’t do soft boys. All that cute shit you do, y’know? All that bringing her drinks, playing with her hair, looking at her like she’s the only person in the room? She’ll get bored so soon. She needs someone who can actually keep up with her, not some pathetic, whipped little romantic who gets all starry-eyed at the sight of her.”

Heeseung forced out a dry laugh, “yeah sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Jaemin stepped even closer, that ugly little smirk twisting his mouth, “you’re playing house while she’s used to getting fucked properly, I’m sure you’re not offering much to at all, you’re nothing but a rebound to her,” he scoffed once, and walked away. 

But the damage was done, because yes, Heeseung was soft, almost a whipped little romantic who let you take the lead when things got heated, how you pinned his wrists down or told him exactly how you wanted him, and how much he fucking loved giving in to you. The dream from this morning flashed behind his eyes again, your voice breaking on those three words while he was the one completely undone above you. Now it all felt suddenly pathetic, like something Jaemin could point at and laugh at.

Jealousy, envy, insecurity, these were the things he didn’t wish to feel, and gladly so, he never felt that with you, so why was an outsider here to remind him of his so called weaknesses? It felt like a spiral how he skipped the next lecture and pondered on Jaemin’s words. Did you actually not enjoy your time with him? Was he enough? Did you want a more intense relationship? Was it just a rebound?

He couldn’t find the answers to any of those questions, and managed to ignore every single text and call that came his way, letting himself cool down on the rooftop yet again. 

What he essentially forgot was how communication wasn’t a part of the relationship but the very pillar that ran practically any relationship on this earth, this being the very first instance of him not being able to express himself—something he did so freely around you. 

And so, the day passed without him replying to you. 

You felt the absence like a missing pulse. 

“You look crazy checking your phone every two minutes,” Sunoo pointed out, and you huffed, grabbing your phone again to stare at the unread texts you’d sent him through the day. 

The screen glowed mockingly in the low light of your dorm room, the blue bubble of your last message still floating unanswered beneath the others, heeseung? talk to me. you okay? i’m coming over if you don’t answer. Just silence that didn’t sit right with you. 

Sunoo flopped dramatically across the foot of your bed, legs kicking up behind him, while Winter perched on the windowsill, she watched you with that knowing tilt of her head, the one that always preceded a lecture of affection. 

“Babe,” she said, “he’s been ghosting the group chat too, something’s off. Like, capital-O off.”

You set the phone face-down on the blanket, but your fingers still twitched toward it. Sunoo nudged your ankle with his socked foot. 

“Go, seriously, and if he’s being a dramatic little shit, tell him Sunoo said to grow a pair and answer his damn phone.” His grin was bright, “you’re so in love it’s pathetic.”

Your lip only twitched, and you didn’t admit nor deny it. It was too early to even overthink what happened, was he drowning himself in self destruction while embracing pain for absolutely no reason? Regardless you frowned with disdain, pushing yourself up to actually do something about the situation, choosing to wear his hoodie he gave you a few days earlier. 

You didn’t bother fixing your hair or changing out of the soft shorts you’d been rotting in all evening. This wasn’t about looking put-together, it was about the fact that Heeseung had never once left a message on read without answering, in fact, he was the one who usually texted first, shared his problems, and discussed any and everything this world has to offer. Whatever had him locked down like this, it had teeth, and you were done waiting for him to chew through it alone.

By the time you reached there, a feeling of nervousness washed over you. Jake pulled the door open almost immediately, like he’d been hovering behind it. His eyes were wide, hair sticking up in about six different directions, and he looked so relieved to see you that it almost hurt.

“Jesus Christ, you’re here,” he sighed, stepping aside so you could slip in, “he got back from class and just shut down. Told me to fuck off when I asked if he wanted pasta. Jay tried the concerned roommate bit and got the door slammed in his face. This isn’t—he doesn’t do this, y’know?”

You nodded, throat tight, “I know.”

Jake hesitated, then added almost sheepishly, “if he’s being a dick, tell him I said to stop being a dramatic prick or i’ll take you away, or whatever.”

You gave him a chuckle and headed straight for the bedroom door, hoping that it wouldn’t be locked. It wasn’t, thankfully so, and you pushed the door open before you could talk yourself out of it. Heeseung sat on the edge of the bed in those black sweats that hung too low on his hips, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. His hair was a mess, like he’d been running his hands through it for hours. The silver chain sat against his collarbone, rising and falling with these tight little breaths. He looked exhausted, hollowed out even.

He heard the door and his head snapped up.

For a second his eyes went wide, like he couldn’t believe it was really you standing there. The whiplash of emotions was too much, especially when you were clad in his hoodie with sadness gracing your pretty face that he really always wished to see happy. He stood up so fast the bed creaked, crossed the room in two strides, and pulled you against him like he’d been waiting to do exactly that all day.

His hands were rough as he grabbed your nape the second the door closed shut behind you, breathing hard as your lips parted to ask a question, but he only closed his eyes, slid his hand up to your head as he pushed you against the door, pushing his lips against yours in a messy claim. 

He can be rough, he can be the one to give you pleasure, of course he can. His fingers tightened in your hair, tilting your head exactly how he wanted it, tongue sliding in deep. You tasted the faint cherry from whatever he’d been drinking, felt the way his chest heaved against yours like he’d been running.

“Missed you,” he mumbled right into your mouth, the words half-bitten off by another rough kiss, “fuck, I missed you so bad today.”

“Heeseung—wait, what the hell happened—” you tried, but he swallowed the question with his mouth, sucking on your bottom lip hard enough to sting before dragging his teeth down the side of your neck. His free hand shoved under the hem of the hoodie, palm sprawled over the expanse of your waist, fingers digging in like he needed to feel skin right now

“Shh,” he breathed against your throat, voice wrecked, “don’t talk. Just—let me.” He sucked a mark right below your ear, like he was stamping proof that you were here, that you were his. His hips pressed forward, pinning you tighter to the door, and you could feel how hard he already was through his sweats.

The force of him made your breath hitch, your back flush against the cool wood while every inch of him burned insistent. He was never like this, not with you. Heeseung had always been careful, as if afraid that wrong move would make you slip away. But tonight something had snapped in him, and the way his fingers trembled just slightly against your skin told you he knew it too. He was trying to prove a point—to himself, to the ghost of Jaemin’s voice still echoing in his head—that he could be the rough, ravenous version he thought you wanted.

He spun you around so fast your palms slapped against the full-length mirror on the back of his closet door. The cool glass kissed your bare chest, making your nipples tighten instantly. Heeseung’s chest pressed flush to your back, one hand sliding up to grip your jaw, forcing your head up so you had no choice but to look at your own reflection—parted lips, eyes already glassy. 

“Look at yourself,” he rasped, “look how fucking pretty you are when you’re like this for me.”

His other hand snaked down your stomach, fingers dipping between your thighs without warning. Two thick digits pushed inside you in one smooth glide, curling instantly against that spot that made your knees buckle. You gasped, forehead dropping forward until it rested on the mirror, but Heeseung’s grip on your jaw tightened, yanking you back up.

“Eyes open, baby. Watch, yeah?” 

It most certainly was hot to see him take control, but you couldn’t understand the sudden switch, the implications, your mind was too foggy with the way you’d missed him through the day. Heeseung was too in his head, as if on some mission to make you feel good—which he always achieved, yet was not satisfied. 

He pumped his fingers slow and deep, twisting them on every drag out so you felt every ridge, every knuckle. The wet, slick sounds of your pussy taking his fingers echoed obscenely in the quiet dorm room. In the mirror you watched it all: the way your lips parted on a shaky moan, the flush crawling down your neck to your chest, the way your tits pressed and flattened against the cool glass with every rock of your hips. Heeseung’s reflection behind you was devastating—dark hair falling into his eyes, jaw clenched tight, that chain around his neck swaying every time he thrust his fingers harder.

“God, you’re so deep already,” you whimpered, hips rocking back to meet his hand, “keep going like that, yeah, just like that, Hee.”

Heeseung groaned low, forehead dropping to your shoulder for a second before he forced himself to look up again, as if in pain, “that’s it. Fuck, listen to how messy you sound. You’re dripping down my wrist, baby. Such a good girl for me.”

You bit your lip, eyes fluttering, but he tapped your jaw again.

“Don’t close your eyes. Want you to see how pretty you look when I finger fuck you like this.”

“Bossy tonight,” you teased breathlessly, even as your thighs started trembling, “I like it, but you’re gonna make me cum already if you keep rubbing my clit like that.”

“Good,” he rasped, thumb circling faster, fingers curling relentlessly, “cum for me. Right now. Let me see it.”

You moaned his name loud, walls fluttering and clenching around his fingers as you came, slick coating his hand. Heeseung kept working you through it, slower but deep, murmuring against your neck, “that’s my girl—fuck, you’re so pretty when you cum. Look at you shaking for me.”

He pulled his fingers out slowly, then brought them to your lips.

“Taste yourself, baby, hm? C’mon, open up.”

You sucked them clean, eyes never leaving his in the reflection, and he cursed under his breath the second your tongue swirled around his fingers. 

“Fuck—you’re gonna kill me.”

Before you could catch your breath he dropped to his knees behind you, hands gripping your hips and yanking you back so your ass arched toward his face.

“Keep watching the mirror,” he said, voice hoarse with need, “I want you to see me eat this pussy like I’ve been starving for it.”

Then his mouth was on you, as filthy as he could manage. His tongue dragged slow and broad from your clit all the way up, and you moaned loud, hands sliding down the glass.

“Oh my god, Hee—”

“Mhm, fuck, you taste even better after you come,” he groaned against you, the vibration making your legs weak, “spread your legs a little wider for me, baby. Let me get deeper.”

You did, pushing back against his face. His tongue fucked into you while his nose nudged your clit, then he sucked your swollen clit into his mouth hard.

“Yes—right there, don’t stop,” you panted, “your tongue feels so fucking good, baby, keep sucking like that.”

Heeseung moaned into your pussy, one hand reaching around to rub your clit while the other spread you open wider, “tell me how much you like it,” he mumbled between licks, voice desperate, “tell me you love my mouth on you.”

“I love it—fuck, I love your mouth, Hee. You’re so good at this—shit, I’m gonna cum again if you keep going like that.”

He sucked harder, tongue flicking fast, fingers joining to curl inside you, “then let go again, right on my tongue. I want to feel you fall apart while you watch yourself in the mirror.”

Your second orgasm crashed over you even harder, a high pitched moan leaving your mouth, almost as if you were chanting his name like a mantra, thighs shaking violently as you came on his tongue, and Heeseung licked you through every pulse, slow and greedy, humming happily like he couldn’t get enough.

You were still trembling when he finally pulled away, breathing hard against the inside of your thigh. His eyes met yours in the mirror for a second, looking all desperate, almost frantic before he stood up and turned you around. His hands were shaking as they gripped your waist.

“Come here,” he said, voice rough, like the words were being dragged out of him. He kissed you immediately, with the need to taste the way you’d just fallen apart for him, “bed. I need you on the bed right now.”

You nodded, legs still unsteady, and he didn’t wait. He lifted you, your back hitting the mattress a second later. He climbed over you fast, knees bracketing your hips, but instead of diving right in he paused, hovering above you, chest heaving. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, and for a split second you saw the soft Heeseung underneath all that intensity—the one who always checked on you, the one who was terrified of messing this up.

“You really want this?” He asked, voice cracking a little even though he was trying to sound sure. His hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing your skin like he couldn’t stop himself, “all the way, me inside you. Tell me you want it, baby, please.”

“I want it,” you whispered, reaching up to pull him closer by his chain, “I want you, Hee. Stop holding back.”

He let out a shaky breath and nodded, like he was steeling himself. He shoved the rest of his clothes off as you watched the pretty boy in front of you. It was clear how he wanted to prove a point, and you were gonna let him, granted he wasn’t in the mood to talk, his faint muscles flexing was distracting you as well, but yeah, you were letting him take control. 

He gripped your thighs and spread you open wider, breathing hard as he tried not to stare to the point he starts drooling because, lord, you looked absolutely stunning all spread out on his bed, looking up at him with need, bottom lip bitten. He lined up, the blunt head of his cock pressing right against your entrance, and for a second he just stayed there, breathing hard, eyes flicking up to yours like he was still fighting whatever storm was in his head.

“Tell me again,” he said, “tell me you want this.”

“I want this,” you breathed, pulling him down into a messy kiss, tongues sliding deep right away, “I want you inside me, Hee. Stop thinking and just take me.”

He groaned into your mouth and pushed forward.

The first inch stretched you open, slow and thick. You both gasped against each other’s lips.

“Fuck—you’re so tight,” he muttered, forehead pressed to yours, hips trembling as he held still, “just the tip and you’re already gripping me like that. You okay?”

You nodded quickly, nails dragging lightly down his back, “keep going, I can take more.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, almost desperate, and rolled his hips forward on the second thrust as another inch sank in. The burn was sharp but so fucking good your back arched.

“Shit—baby,” he groaned, voice cracking. He sucked a hard mark right under your jaw, teeth grazing your skin as he pushed in a third time, slower, letting you adjust, “you feel—gosh, you feel unreal, i’m trying not to lose it already.”

Your nails dug in harder, scratching down his shoulder blades as he gave one more careful thrust and finally bottomed out, hips flush against yours. The full stretch made you moan loud into his mouth, legs tightening around his waist.

Heeseung stilled completely, breathing ragged against your neck, trying not to whimper, “talk to me. Does it hurt? Tell me the truth.”

“A little,” you whispered, “but I love it. You feel so deep already. Move, baby, I need you to move.”

He started with slow, deep rolls of his hips, grinding against you on every stroke like he was still trying to stay in control. But you could feel the tension building in his body, the way his fingers dug into your thighs a little harder each time.

“Yeah? Like this?” He asked, voice rougher now as he snapped his hips forward a little sharper, “you want me to fuck you harder?”

“Harder,” you moaned, nails raking down his back again, leaving red lines, “don’t be gentle tonight. I want all of it.”

He dropped his head to your neck and bit down hard, sucking yet another dark mark into your skin as his hips suddenly slammed forward. The thrusts turned brutal, the bed creaking loudly under you. His chain slapped against your chest with every snap of his hips. He was fucking you like he’d been holding back for months—desperate, almost punishing strokes that knocked the breath out of you.

“Fuck—fuck, baby,” he groaned against your throat, voice completely wrecked, “you’re taking me so fucking good. This pussy is mine tonight. Mine.”

You cried out and he kissed you again, tongues sliding messily while he pounded into you without any rhythm left. His hips stuttered, slamming harder, faster, completely mindless now, like every doubt in his head was being fucked out with every brutal thrust.

“Shit—I can’t—can’t slow down,” he panted, “you feel too good, gonna fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow.”

He was gone—eyes hazy, sweat dripping down his chest, hips snapping wildly as he lost himself inside you, chasing that raw, desperate need to prove he could be everything he thought you wanted. His chain bounced wildly against your chest, his fingers digging bruises into your thigh like he needed something to hold onto. 

You were right there with him, body tightening, moans spilling out against his mouth, when the intensity tipped over into something too much, too fast. Your hand shot back, fingers digging into his hip.

“Heeseung—stop. Stop for a second.”

He froze mid-thrust, buried to the hilt, every muscle locking up at once. His breath hitched hard against your neck. For a long second the room was just the sound of both of you breathing, ragged and uneven. You could feel the panic crashing over him. 

“Fuck—did I hurt you?” His voice cracked, he pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes already glassy with tears that spilled over when he blinked, “shit, I’m so sorry—I got too rough, I didn’t mean to, I was trying so hard not to be soft and I just—fuck, I thought if I fucked you harder you’d want me, you’d stay, I—”

His lip trembled. Another tear slid down his cheek and landed warm on your skin. He looked completely shattered, still deep inside you, like the idea that he might have hurt you was breaking him apart right there.

You cupped his face with both hands, thumbs gently brushing the tears from under his eyes, “baby, shh. You didn’t hurt me,” you whispered, voice soft, full of warmth, “not even a little. I promise. You feel so good, Hee. C’mon breathe with me, okay?”

He stared at you, eyes wide and wet, lips pressed tight together like he was trying not to fall apart completely. He gave the smallest shake of his head, refusing to speak at first.

You leaned up and kissed him, just a gentle press of your lips until he softened into it, a shaky little exhale leaving him. When you pulled back you kept your forehead against his, thumbs still stroking his cheeks.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, “I can feel it, baby. Something’s been eating at you. Please talk to me.”

Heeseung swallowed hard, eyes fluttering shut for a second as another tear slipped free. His voice came out small, cracked, almost ashamed.

“Jaemin cornered me after class,” he whispered, “uh—he said I’m too soft, fucking whipped. That I’m just a pathetic rebound and you’d get bored of me in a week because someone like me could never keep a girl like you. Said you need someone who can actually fuck you right, not some gentle loser,” his breath hitched, “I just—I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. I wanted to prove I could be what you need, I know this isn’t what you wanted, our whole FWB thing.”

You stayed right there, forehead pressed to his, thumbs still gently wiping his tears as you looked at him with nothing but softness in your eyes, heart hurting at how the guy who makes you the happiest was reduced to some loser by your pathetic excuse of an ex. 

“I like you exactly how you are,” you let out, heat creeping up your neck, the position only making you feel more with his cock still buried deep in you. 

“Y—you like me?” He gasped as you licked his tear away, “really?”

“I do, Hee. I forgot about the whole no strings arrangement long back, I found myself wanting to spend more time with you, and who am I to deprive myself of happiness?” You chuckled, “you can’t force your feelings to go away, or change yourself, y’know? Fuck Jaemin, he doesn’t know shit, he could never make me cum and he definitely could never make me feel the way you do.”

Heeseung let out a shaky, broken exhale, his forehead still resting against yours as fresh tears welled up, “I thought—I thought I was ruining everything. I was so scared you’d realize I’m just the rebound, and you’d leave. I didn’t want to lose you, so I tried to be someone else tonight. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, “you didn’t ruin anything, Hee, not even close. You could never ruin this. I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere, I don’t mind you being rough or soft, yeah?”

He swallowed hard, “I don’t want to be rough, I never really did. I just, I thought that’s what you needed from me. But I want to be soft with you, can I—can I do that? Please?”

You couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped you, the sound made his lips twitch, and then he was smiling—small, shy, and so genuinely relieved it made your heart squeeze. He immediately hid his face in the crook of your neck, embarrassed, his breath warm against your skin as he let out a quiet, shy laugh of his own.

“Stop laughing at me,” he mumbled into your neck, but you could hear the smile in his voice, the way his shoulders relaxed.

“I’m not laughing at you,” you whispered, still chuckling as you threaded your fingers through his hair, “I’m laughing because you’re adorable, and I like you like this. Exactly like this.”

Heeseung lifted his head just enough to look at you again, eyes still glassy but now shining with something brighter as he managed another kiss, pouring every unsaid feeling into it. When he pulled back, his voice was soft. 

“I love you,” he breathed out, “I’m so in love with you. I don’t want no-strings, I want everything. Mornings where I wake up and you’re stealing my hoodie. Nights where we fall asleep tangled up like this, and I want all of it with you.”

You smiled against his lips, heart so full it felt like it might burst, “I’m falling in love with you too, Hee, I want all of that with you too.”

He whined, kissing you all clumsy, rolling his hips in long, loving strokes that made you feel every inch of him. The pace was unhurried, like he wanted to savor every second.

“Feel that?” He whispered, forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked on you, “I love being inside you like this. I love feeling you around me—so warm, so perfect.”

You moaned softly, legs wrapping tighter around him as you rocked up to meet his slow thrusts, “you feel so good, baby.”

Heeseung smiled again with a giggle, hiding his face in your neck for a moment before kissing along your throat, “you’re so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, “the way you look when I’m inside you, the little sounds you make, I could stay like this for hours. Just loving you, just making you feel good.”

His hand found yours, lacing your fingers together and pinning it gently above your head while the other slid down to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, tender circles. Every thrust was accompanied by quiet words—I love you, you feel incredible, never letting you go, whispered against your skin like prayers.

You squeezed his hand, “I love how you make me feel safe, don’t ever change, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise, i just want to make you feel loved. Every single day.”

The room filled with nothing but the soft creak of the bed, your quiet moans, and his gentle praises. He kept the pace slow and deep, grinding against you on every thrust so your clit rubbed perfectly against him. His lips never left your skin—kissing your neck, your jaw, your mouth, your collarbone like he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion as he rolled his hips again, “I’m so lucky you’re mine. So fucking lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one, baby. Now keep loving me just like this, I never want this to end.”

Heeseung smiled against your mouth, eyes shining with pure adoration, and did exactly that—loving you slow, deep, and full of so much tenderness it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared.

Just the two of you, and the moonlight in the room. 

MEANWHILE:

You shushed Heeseung for the nth time as he smiled against your palm, but you were serious, peering down the hallway from the narrow alcove where you’d both hidden behind a pillar.

“Stop smiling, you’re going to get us caught,” you whispered, though your own grin was fighting to break free.

Heeseung only chuckled quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your wrist, “can’t help it. You look so adorable trying to be all serious.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart felt warm as his arms stayed wrapped around your waist from behind, chin resting on your shoulder.

The classroom door finally swung open. Students spilled out, and then Jaemin stepped into the hallway, laughing loudly with his friends.

The second you saw him, you stepped out without hesitation, you lifted the chilled cup and poured the entire icy matcha straight over his head from the first floor, the aim being too good to your surprise. 

Jaemin gasped, stumbling back as green liquid drenched his hair and hoodie, “what the fuck—”

Loud laughter exploded from the crowd around him. Phones came out instantly, people whistling and clapping, and you didn’t stay to admire your work.

You grabbed Heeseung’s hand and ran, both of you sprinting down the side hallway until you ducked into an empty stairwell, breathless and laughing.

“Oh my god, his face,” you wheezed, back pressed against the wall.

Heeseung leaned over you, one hand beside your head, smiling so beautifully it made your knees weak—eyes crinkled, full of pure adoration and joy.

“You’re insane, taking revenge for me again,” he said softly, “and I’m so in love with you.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek. He leaned in and kissed you sweetly, so full of everything you two had become. When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he was still smiling that same breathtaking smile.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You kissed the corner of his mouth, grinning, and you did mean it with your whole heart as you proceeded to say. 

“I love you more.”

THANK YOU FOR READING

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© jaylaxies | tumblr

[jaylaxies]

BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, angst, fluff, porn with plot, slow burn, multiple smut scenes, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), lots of kissing, cunnilingus, blowjob, dry humping, fingering, car sex, mutual masturbation, spit kink, multiple orgasms, marking, crying. mentions of nicknames, pda, messy feelings and bets, subtle mentions of jaywon. lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT: 30.9k words

SYNOPSIS: Jake is utterly oblivious to the fact that you are well aware how his sudden devotion to you is stemmed from nothing but a pathetic little bet. He is also unaware of the fact that you have been matching his energy, playing your part so convincingly that the line between performance and truth starts to blur, and you are not sure what is real anymore. OR, the classic bet trope twisted into bet inverse.

A/N: hihi loves <3 so i finally used my 2 year old idea and made it into a fic, it was soo fun to write and i could not have done it without doll (ily for sprinting w me always), i hope you guys enjoy it <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <3

CHAPTER ONE: Raised stakes. 

If there was one word to describe Jake, it would be carefree.

Some deeper parts within him would care to disagree, however, he had perfected this art of burying them six feet under layers of easy smiles. At twenty-three, Jake was the hot Physics student pursuing Masters with a killer arm (or leg in this case) on the football field. 

He had always been good at drowning out uneasiness with a bright grin, a well-timed joke that he somehow laughed at harder than the others, the easy way his hand would find the small of someone’s back as he guided them through a crowded party. It worked, it always worked.

Hardworking to a fault, he balanced brutal training sessions, demanding coursework, and still found time to be the social glue of every group he touched. Clumsy in the most endearing ways—tripping over his own feet during victory celebrations or spilling his coffee down his jersey—he’d just laugh it off, turning mishaps into stories. 

So, in a word, Jake Sim was considered to be carefree by any living creature that had the slightest pleasure of meeting him.

And to put it simply, he enjoyed it. He basked in the attention thrown his way, not in a way that would label him as arrogant, it just came to him as easy as, well, breathing. All that effortless energy around him kept him sane, coming from a loving family, to having friends he could call his second family, he truly cherished it to the core. 

Tonight the spring kickoff party in the quad thrummed under strings of warm fairy lights, the bass from the speakers mixing with the scent of grilled corn (to Jay’s absolute delight), spilled beer, and early cherry blossoms. Jake stood right at the center of it all, lean athletic build relaxed as he leaned against the brick pillar, red solo cup in hand, black hair falling in soft tousled waves. He ran his fingers through it absentmindedly while Heeseung gestured wildly mid-story, the group around him already cracking up at the enthusiasm of it all. 

“—and then she just looks at me after the game, all flushed and smiling, and says you looked really good out there tonight. Next thing I know we’re back at her place and I’m thinking, damn, maybe I should score more goals if this is the reward,” Heeseung said, smile wide as he took a swig from his cup.

Jay laughed at that, “you’re too fucking easy,” he mumbled, taking a bite of corn, pairing it up with vodka right after. 

Sunghoon leaned back against the pillar, smirking as he shook his head, “you two are hopeless, now let me tell you guys about what real pleasure is—”

“Spare us the details,” Jeno mumbled, a tad bit tipsy with the amount of booze he’d been consuming, Jaemin holding him up, but his mind was elsewhere, planning something rather crazy to wash out the usual mundane conversation. 

Jake’s laugh rolled out bright, head tilting back and shoulders shaking with genuine amusement, “you guys are practically whores,” he clicked his tongue, “but yeah—nothing beats that post-game high when someone’s waiting for you looking like that. Makes all the bruises worth it.” He bit his lower lip lightly, still grinning as he scanned the lively surroundings, eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. 

Across the grass, you stood with Jungwon and Karina near the low stone wall, Jungwon had dragged the two of you here earlier, insisting it would be lowkey fun because his Jay hyung had invited him and “it’s not like we have to stay forever.” The music played in the background, but your attention stayed on them—sharp little remarks about random campus drama, Karina’s latest story about a disastrous blind date, the usual easy flow that made the noise somewhat bearable. 

Jungwon glanced toward the center of the party, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips as he watched Jake’s group, “Jake’s in full golden-boy mode tonight. Look at him— Jay says he’s the same off the field, always cracking jokes even when everyone’s half-dead from practice.”

Karina nodded, swirling the last of her drink slowly, “It’s almost unfair how he does that, wish i could’ve been that extroverted honestly.”

You followed their gaze without meaning to. Jake was mid-laugh again, black hair falling messily into his eyes as he ran a hand through it. The light catching the sharp line of his jaw, the way his whole body seemed to lean into the moment. Everyone around him was leaning in too, feeding off that bright, effortless warmth. 

It made something tight and irritated coil low in your stomach. Not jealousy, no, just exhaustion at the performance of it all. The way the entire party seemed wired to orbit one guy who never seemed to run out of smiles or energy.

You shrugged, “he’s too loud. Must get exhausting pretending the world’s that fun all the time.”

Jungwon bumped your shoulder lightly, his laugh soft and familiar, “c’mon, he’s not that bad. Jay swears he’s actually decent when you get him one-on-one. But yeah, he looks a wee bit too jolly tonight.”

Karina smirked, eyes glinting with teasing as she glanced at you, “you’d probably shut him down in two seconds flat if he ever tried talking to you. I’d pay to see that.”

You pressed your lips together for half a second, the thought of Jake Sim turning that sunshine smile on you—of him thinking he could just waltz into your carefully guarded space—sent a flicker of pure distaste through you. You weren’t interested in being another notch, another story he told his friends the next day. 

Your life revolved around the quiet satisfaction of getting things right, majorly focusing on, well, studies. Romance, especially the loud, golden-boy kind, had no place in it.

“Exactly,” you said, tone edged with dry sarcasm, “not interested. Let’s grab something from the food trucks and dip before it gets worse. I’ve hit my limit on forced fun for one night.”

You didn’t mind being in the crowd as long as your friends were with you, however, you did mind the exhaustion creeping upon your body. No one but you were to be blamed for it. Going to the gym in the morning, catching up on lectures later, getting groceries, and now being at a party—you’d tired yourself out with the simple mindset of being busy is a blessing. It was true to some extent, albeit not in a way that your friends would agree. The conversation didn’t dull as you started making your way out to eat with your best friends. 

On the other side of the quad, Jake was only half-listening to the guys now, he felt himself getting comfortable in his smaller circle, it was exactly the kind of night Jake usually loved.

But his eyes kept drifting. 

It wasn’t as if it was his first time seeing you, especially when Jungwon was always around too, it was merely the fact that you kept your distance, always. Jake wasn’t blind, he appreciated beauty which you carried around effortlessly. The lack of general courtesy to acknowledge strangers? Not so much. 

You looked like you wished to be anywhere but here (which was true), making him wonder why. He ran his hand through his hair, messing the soft waves before smoothing them back down, a habit he barely noticed anymore.

Jaemin, who had been unusually quiet for the last minute, suddenly leaned in closer, voice dropping low enough that only their small circle could hear over the music, “wanna make things interesting?” 

Jay groaned, knowing his proposal would cause damage in the name of merriment, because that’s how Jaemin thrived. Sunghoon was rather interested in knowing what was gonna be the deal here, and so, he continued. 

“See her? Jungwon’s friend?” The group turned and looked your way, Jay already opening his mouth to stop him, but of course, Jaemin was quicker, “make her fall in love with you in a month.”

“Wait—me?” Jake echoed, the word half-laugh, half-disbelief, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes the way it usually did.

Jaemin leaned in closer. His grin was sharp, almost scary, “yeah, you, in one month. Make Jungwon’s friend fall for you, hard. Like, actually in love with you to the point it gets public.”

Jay’s head snapped up so fast the corn on his plate nearly toppled, “Jaemin, no. She’s not—fuck, she’s not gonna be interested, at all. I literally know her, she keeps everyone at arm’s length, especially guys like Jake, no offence.”

Sunghoon’s smirk didn’t falter, but his eyes narrowed, interested now in a way that made Jake’s stomach twist, “stakes?”

Jaemin didn’t hesitate, “If Jake wins—makes her say it out loud, in front of us—he gets the M4. Keys, papers, the whole matte-black beast. Mine for a month, and if he wants to keep it after that, it’s his. No take-backs.”

The circle went quiet for half a second before Heeseung let out a low whistle, cup frozen halfway to his mouth, “your car? The one you won’t even let me sit in without a fucking background check?”

“Yep.”

Jay dragged a hand down his face, shoulders tight, “Jake, this is messed up. You’ll hurt her, and then you’ll feel like shit, and she’ll hate you, and the whole group’s gonna be stuck in the middle because Jungwon’s her best friend. This isn’t a game, It’s gonna blow up in both your faces.”

Jake’s fingers found the back of his neck, then slid up into his hair without thinking. He messed them further, his eyes drifting across the quad again to where you were still walking away with Jungwon and Karina, posture straight, silver ring catching the light as you twisted it mindlessly. 

He should say no. He should clap Jaemin on the shoulder, laugh it off, steer the conversation back to the upcoming football match or the thermodynamics midterm that was currently trying to murder all of them. 

But something stubborn flickered in his chest. The same part that hated the idea of failing at the one thing he was supposedly best at, making people feel seen. You hadn’t even looked at him twice. 

One month, one girl who looked like she probably just needed someone nice to talk to and share her worries—right? 

Jake bit his lower lip for half a second, the way he did when he was locking in on a tricky play. Then the grin came back as bright and effortless, the one that always worked.

“Deal,” he said, not confident at all, though great at hiding it.

The group exploded, clearly not okay with the idea itself. Jay groaned louder, already shaking his head, “you’re both idiots. This is gonna end badly.”

Sunghoon just laughed under his breath, leaning back against the pillar, “I’ll take that bet too. Odds on Jake cracking first?”

Heeseung was already pulling out his phone, demanding proof in the form of media. Jaemin slapped Jake’s shoulder hard enough to make his red solo cup slosh over the rim.

“Day one starts tomorrow, Jakey. Better bring everything you’ve got.”

Jake laughed again, but when it settled, it left something quieter behind. Something that tasted a little (a lot) like doubt.

Later that night, when the place had emptied and the only sound left was the low hum of crickets, Jake lay on his back in his room. The mellow playlist he always played when the noise finally stopped drifted from his phone. His small notebook—the one no one ever saw—was open on his chest, a half-finished football formation doodled in the margin. He wrote one line.

She doesn’t like loud spaces, or crowds. 

He closed the notebook, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and exhaled into the dark.

“What the fuck am I doing?” He whispered.

Across campus, you were already in your room, bullet journal open on your desk, silver ring still on your finger. You didn’t know about the bet yet. All you knew was that Jake Sim had never looked your way before last night, and something about the way his eyes had followed you across the grass fell off.

You pressed your lips together, biting the inside of your cheek once, then wrote in the tiniest handwriting in the margin of tomorrow’s schedule.

Keep your distance from Jake Sim.

CHAPTER TWO: Bet inverse?

Jake’s alarm went off at 6:47 in the morning like it always did, but this morning he didn’t bother hitting snooze. He stayed there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, the bet from last night practically sitting on his chest. Jaemin’s evil smile and Jay’s warning kept on repeating in his mind.

He should have let it go, instead, he rolled out of the bed, pulled on his black hoodie and shorts, laced up his running shoes after freshening up. He knew where Jungwon lived, the dorms near the science buildings where there was always an influx of food carts nearby. 

The distance wasn’t long per se, but his breathlessness certainly made it seem like it was, and the little hope he had to spot you in the cold of this morning.

The sky was soft gray before the sun decided to show up, and Jake’s lungs were burning in a way that made him feel good, hair sticking to his forehead by the time he slowed to jog near the coffee cart. 

To his absolute luck, he spotted you right there as you thought what you should order from the coffee cart, looking too proper in your jeans that fit you just right as if it wasn’t so early in the morning, and he took a moment to observe you, breathing hard, wiping his face on the sleeve of his hoodie. He stepped up beside you, the scent of your perfume overtaking his senses. 

His friends called him weird for this rather peculiar habit of his where he leaned in too much to get a sniff of, well, practically everything. So, it was hard fir him to control himself at the moment.

“Y/N,” he said, voice low so it wouldn’t startle you, “uh—hey.”

You turned, eyes meeting him before you granted him the smallest nod of acknowledgement, “Jake.”

The barista waited and Jake kept his hands in his hoodie pocket so he wouldn’t fidget, “one Americano for me, and whatever she’s having—I’ll cover it.”

You frowned at this because Jake truly had no reason to be talking to you here, much less paying for your drink, “you really don’t have to.”

“I know.” He offered a half-smile, the real one, “but I want to. We’ve been around each other enough—Jungwon’s parties, that study hall last semester. Felt kinda stupid that we’ve never actually talked.”

You studied him a second longer, like you were trying to decide if this was a line or just politeness. Then you told the barista your usual—vanilla latte, extra shot, and stepped aside while the machine hissed to life.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward exactly, Jake could feel the bet sitting heavy in his throat, but right now it was better—the way your perfume kept drifting over every time the breeze picked up. He wanted to lean in again, but he didn’t.

When both cups came out he handed yours over carefully, no fingers touching, just the warm cardboard passing from his palm to yours.

“Uh—thanks,” you said simply before you started walking.

He fell in beside you, matching your stride without crowding your personal space. The path was empty enough to give you both privacy which you didn’t need as his heartbeat felt a little too loud in his ears, and for the first time, he found himself being nervous to talk to someone. 

After half a minute you spoke again, “so how do you always act all nice for people you barely know?”

His lips curved, “I don’t do that, not really. Usually I’m the one everyone expects to keep things light,” he mumbled, “I saw you last night, you looked—bothered? Made me wonder what it’d be like to actually talk to you instead of just watching.”

You took a sip, wondering how he so casually admitted to staring at you, “and what’s the verdict so far?”

He glanced sideways, the early light was starting to hit the side of your face, “still figuring it out. But the coffee seems like a decent start.”

You didn’t smile, not really. But something in your expression eased, and it made him feel a little accomplished, as if he’d won something small and fragile that could disappear any moment.

The path split ahead, biotech building looming on the left. You slowed, turning to face him fully. For a second the guarded look cracked open, and he caught something underneath it—irritation, maybe, or the faintest flicker of curiosity you didn’t want to admit to.

“I’ve got lab,” you said. 

Jake nodded, the easy warmth still on his face even though his stomach twisted with how badly he wanted to ask one more question, “yeah, of course. See you around, Y/N.”

You gave one small nod then turned and walked toward the doors. He stood there until you disappeared inside, the taste of black coffee bitter on his tongue and the ghost of your perfume still clinging to the air around him. He breathed it in once, almost guilty, then let it go.

Back in his dorm he dropped onto the bed still in his hoodie, the room quiet. The small notebook he never let anyone see was already open on his lap. He stared at the blank page for a long moment, before writing: Vanilla latte with an extra shot, morning lectures in lab 291.

He closed the notebook, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and stayed like that until the pressure behind them eased.

Meanwhile, you were beyond confused narrating it to Karina later, who gave you a dry chuckle, “yeah, don’t entertain him,” she said, and you scoffed—as if you’d ever do that. 

But three days had passed since the party, and it was as if Jake had made it his personal mission to accidentally run into you whenever you least expected him to. Somehow, he had managed to get your schedule, which is why he was standing outside your lecture on the very next day. 

Jake was a poor actor and highly unaware of the same, so his exclaimed Oh, Y/N, felt rather comical to you, granted he had two coffees in his veiny hands. You chose to ignored him, face pulling into a natural smile for a second, and he stood there shocked, only to realize you were waving at Jungwon who stood behind him.

Jake stood there for a few minutes, not moving even when you had left while Heeseung and Sunghoon stood right there, judging him. Your smile—as brief as it was, had been pretty, too fucking pretty, and doubt crept up Jake. He wondered if he’ll ever be able to coax that smile out of you himself.

The thought followed him through the rest of the day, sharp enough to make him reroute his afternoon lecture so he happened to be near the vending machines right as you stepped out of lab. He was there again the morning after that, leaning against the wall outside the biotech building with a single vanilla latte in hand, the extra shot already marked on the side in the barista’s neat handwriting. Each time he appeared, he kept his voice low, never demanding more, though it felt like a blow to his ego how you actively tried to avoid him. He genuinely wished to talk to you (for the bet, of course).

By the third afternoon the rain had started, insistent against the library windows. You had slipped into the far back study nook, the one buried behind the tallest reference shelves, you needed it—needed to bury yourself in studies and forget how Jake’s persistence was beginning to thread through your days like a melody you couldn’t quite shake.

You pulled out your bullet journal and started annotating protocols for the upcoming lab, pen moving with sharp precision, and you felt a presence behind you. You were most ready to snap at Jake, but it was Jaemin who found you instead.

He dropped into the chair across from you, smirking, like he had been waiting for this exact moment, “Jake’s been hanging around you a lot lately,” he said, voice light but knowing, “you might fall for him.”

You set your pen down slowly, “what makes you think I’ll fall for him?”

Jaemin’s smirk deepened, “well, chances are less but certainly never zero.”

You frowned, irritation rising, “what do you want, Jaemin?”

“I was getting to it.” He leaned forward, eyes glinting, “I wanna propose another bet since I’m bored and I clearly care for you.”

“Another bet?” You asked, brain finally working. Jake was following you around for a fucking bet, you should’ve known. 

Jaemin watched your face change and his grin widened, “I give you thirty days to make him fall for you. And I mean truly head-over-heels kind of fall, then reject him, then you win, since you clearly don’t care about him.”

You stared at him, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, “I don’t want to be involved playing with feelings.”

“If he didn’t care for your feelings, why are you holding back?”

“Cause I’m not like him?” 

“Fair, but here’s the deal—” Jaemin leaned in closer, voice dropping.

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“It’s fun.”

“You’re insane.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“What is he getting out of this?”

“My car.”

Another scoff left your mouth at this, and Jaemin said he’d give you anything you wanted if you’d win. Nothing was in your mind honestly, but you were too pissed to let it go.

“And what will I get?”

“A chance to absolutely shatter Jake’s ego, and that trip to Paris with your friends, you’ve been eyeing it for a while now.”

“How the fuck did you—”

“I have my ways,” he shrugged, but his eyes, oh his eyes were glimmering with joy. He almost seemed like a Cheshire cat. 

So you agreed. Jaemin only smiled, walking away from you now, leaving you rather disturbed. 

As if the universe itself had been listening, Jake walked past the end of the aisle at that exact moment, eyes scanning the shelves until they landed on you. You met his gaze head-on and gave him the smallest smile you owned, and he paused mid-step, lips parting like he might say something, then you looked away, not bothering with him anymore than you had today.

The game had just begun. And this time, you were the one holding the cards.

CHAPTER THREE: Ignorance isn’t bliss 

You ignored Jake. 

It was rather easy to do so despite all the plans you had brainstormed to make him fall in love with you hopelessly. The day had been too hectic, and to say you were exhausted would be an understatement—even the slightest voice would absolutely make you scream out in frustration given the state of your mind. Which is why you found yourself sitting in the bleachers, all silent and calm. 

Truth be told, you didn’t wish to get into this mess by any means, however, Jake wasn’t one to give up. You scoffed at how he’d trade any stranger’s feelings for a stupid car, and even then he’d be celebrated for winning a bet. 

Jake didn’t know why but the past few days had been weird for him. He couldn’t understand why you smiled at him in the library only to abruptly disappear from the face of the earth next—and yes, it bothered him because the time was ticking by. Maybe Jake was a lucky guy, cause right then, he found you at the bleachers, sitting up there as if trying to hide from the world. 

It was clear you didn’t wish to be disturbed, by Jake of all people, but his feet carried him before his mind could keep up, and that’s how he found himself sitting three seats away from you, prepping to show his absolute best flirt game, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “are you okay?”

“Why are you everywhere?” You exasperated, finally turning to look at him despite knowing he’d found you before. 

For once he didn’t jump in with some easy line. He just sat there a second, elbows on his knees, watching you like he was actually trying to read the mood instead of skating past it.

“I saw you from the path,” he said, “you were up here alone, I figured I’d check if you were okay. That’s it.”

You let out a sharp breath, the exhaustion from your day mixing with the frustration that had been building since Jaemin dropped his little bomb about the bet. This is all fake, you reminded yourself. He’s only here because he wants that stupid car, that bet. 

“Checking in, right. You’ve been turning up at the coffee cart, outside my lectures, the vending machines, now here. I’m not in the mood for whatever this is.”

He shifted one seat closer, jacket creaking a little, but still left space between you, “I’m not trying to push. I know it probably comes off like I’m in your face every day. It’s just—you always seem like you’re carrying a lot and you’re doing it alone. I guess I wanted to see if you were actually alright or if you were just pushing through.”

You turned to face him, eyes narrowing, “pushing through is what students do, Jake. I don’t need an audience for it.”

“Yeah, I see that,” he said, gulping as he stared at your side profile, “you’re pretty resilient about it. Most people would’ve already vented to someone by now—and maybe you did to your friends but yeah.”

“Resilient?” You let out a short laugh, “or just tired of everyone expecting me to perform. Unlike the quintessential golden boy who’s always got a smile ready.”

Jake winced, looked out at the empty field for a second, then back at you, “golden boy—ouch, fair though. That’s the label I got stuck with.”

You crossed your arms tighter, “so, why are you up here trying to talk to me instead of being there with your friends? It doesn’t add up.”

He rubbed his palm over his knee, “uh—with them it’s nonstop noise, like I love my friends but it’s all just football practice, jokes, keeping the energy up no matter what. With you—it doesn’t feel like I have to be that version of me.”

You scoffed, how cliché, “right. So now the guy who’s always the center of everything suddenly wants to sit in silence on the bleachers?”

Jake leaned forward a fraction, elbows on his knees, “there’s this whole dichotomy between what everyone sees and what’s actually going on inside. Talking to you, it’s not like that.”

“Not like that,” you repeated, the words coming out flat, “how convenient, Jake.”

He swallowed again, eyes flicking to your face as you said his name, “It’s not convenient, It’s just true. You don’t expect me to keep the vibe going, y’know? You just say what you think.”

You felt your chest tighten. He sounded so damn eloquent even when he was lying, “you’re really good at this, you know? Making it sound like you actually get it.”

“I’m not trying to be good at anything,” Jake said, voice dropping, “I just keep showing up because every time I do, I see more of the real you. Not the version you show everyone else.”

You let out a breath, he could definitely get a few points for acting, “okay, so listen then—my lab did suck today. Equipment kept failing, I’m behind on three lectures, and I came up here to be alone, that’s it. Nothing exciting.”

“Hey—i didn’t ask for exciting,” he said, staring at the way your fingers still twisted the ring, “my day was shit too—coach rode us hard about tomorrow’s game and I barely studied for my midterm. Sometimes I just want to sit somewhere and not pretend everything’s perfect.”

You stared at him, “so you picked me to sit with? Out of everyone on campus?”

“Yeah,” Jake said simply, meeting your eyes, “because you don’t expect anything from me. You call me on my shit. It’s nice, I guess.”

“Whatever, I’m fine keeping my distance and acting like you care won’t change that, okay?” 

“I do care,” Jake let out too quickly, surprised at his own words, “that’s the part you don’t believe, but it’s true.”

The conversation was getting too real, too fast, and the knowledge of the bet made every word feel like a trap, “It’s exhausting trying to figure out if any of this is real or if you’re just—”

Mid-sentence, just as your voice rose, Jake closed the gap by embracing you into a hug. His arms wrapping around you without hesitation, one hand settling at your back, the other across your shoulders. The dark jacket was soft against your cheek, still warm from the afternoon sun, carrying that clean, steady scent that was just him.

You practically froze as his heartbeat thudded against your ear—fast, as if the move had surprised him too. It was warm, really warm, making everything feel a little less heavy for a second. Even though you knew this was all part of the cursed bet, the gesture was still something, making your eyes sting. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had held you like they actually meant it.

Jake’s own breath caught as he held you. His pulse wouldn’t slow down, guilt and something else he couldn’t pinpoint made his heart seem heavier. For those few seconds he just held on, chin resting lightly against the top of your head, breathing you in like he could somehow make the whole stupid situation disappear.

It was awkward, because you in fact did not reciprocate the hug that well, proceeding to pull back with your cheeks burning. Jake’s hands stayed on your shoulders for half a second longer than they should have before he let go, looking just as thrown as you felt. He closed his eyes, biting on his bottom lip too hard, panicking cause for once, he didn’t know how to handle the situation. 

The anxiety only rose as you grabbed your bag, planning on getting up, however, his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, “I’ve got a game tomorrow—It would mean a lot if you came, no pressure. You don’t have to stay the whole time or cheer or anything. Just come—if you want to for a break.”

You didn’t answer right away, watching him mutter it out all breathless, hair messy and cheeks seemingly red now. You barely caught on to his words, still processing the warmth, but a part of you did wish to reject him on the spot and walk away before the things got more complicated. 

Another part wondered what would happen if you actually showed up, since you did have your own bet to take care of. 

CHAPTER FOUR: Like a rom-com actor 

The next afternoon the stadium was already packed and buzzing when Jake stepped onto the field for warm-ups. He was supposed to be loosening up his legs, listening to the coach bark instructions, getting his head in the game. Instead his eyes kept flicking up to the stands every few seconds. The wind was blowing hard across the pitch, constantly shoving his black hair into his eyes no matter how many times he tried to push it back.

Jay jogged over and bumped his shoulder, “dude, earth to Jake? You’ve been staring up there like you’re waiting for the love of your life to appear. You good?”

Sunghoon, who was retying his cleats a few feet away, let out a low laugh, “he’s been doing it nonstop. Head snapping up every ten seconds. What’s got you so distracted today? You never get like this before a home game.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a casual laugh even though his stomach was doing flips,  “I’m fine, just looking for someone.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, exchanging a quick glance with Sunghoon, “someone? As in a specific someone who’s basically a bet? Damn, this must be serious if it’s got you this antsy within a week.”

Jake didn’t get the chance to answer, because he finally spotted you.

You were sitting a few rows up with Jungwon and Karina, the wind tugging at your hair the same way it was messing with his. The second your eyes met his across the field, Jake’s breath caught hard in his throat. His heart slammed against his ribs because—you actually came? For a second he forgot how to move, just standing there staring like an idiot while the wind kept pushing his hair everywhere.

You gave him a small smile and lifted your hand, waving at him softly.

Jake’s whole face lit up before he could stop it. Without thinking, he waved back enthusiastically, arm swinging high and wide as if he was trying to reach you from the middle of the pitch. His hair flew wildly in the wind as he did it, the motion so eager and over-the-top that Jay choked on his water and Sunghoon doubled over laughing so hard he had to grab onto Jay’s arm to stay upright.

“What the fuck—” Sunghoon wheezed, “you just waved like a little kid who spotted his mom after school. I’ve never seen you do that in my life.”

Jay was cracking up too, wiping water off his chin, “yeah he’s absolutely finished. Down horrendously bad and it’s not even been a few days.”

“Guess we know who’s gonna lose the bet,” added Hoon in a singsong voice. 

“He never stood a chance honestly.”

Meanwhile, around you, a bunch of girls in the stands noticed Jake’s dramatic wave and immediately started squealing, waving back excitedly and calling out his name like he’d waved at all of them. A few even stood up, cheering for him loudly.

You raised an eyebrow, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and slight disbelief, “damn,” you muttered, glancing at the crowd, “he sure is famous.”

“And a player,” added Jungwon. 

“And an asshole,” quipped Karina, arms crossed over her chest. 

You had told them, of course you did, and watching them get so enraged on behalf of you did make you feel tons better, which shouldn’t have been the case since they did threaten to chop Jake’s dick off, but hey, the way Karina said it was quite comical. 

Down on the field Jay spotted Jungwon in the stands and lifted his hand in a casual wave with a clueless grin on his face like nothing in the world was wrong. Jungwon just stared back with his jaw tight, not waving back as he was convinced Jay already knew about the bet and was somehow backing Jake up, and the thought made his expression go hard.

You nudged Jungwon’s side with your elbow, keeping your voice low, “c’mon, be normal, wave back or he’s gonna think something’s weird.”

Jungwon let out a reluctant huff, but he finally lifted his hand and gave a small, stiff wave. Jay’s grin widened like nothing had happened at all, and he turned back to the field, completely oblivious.

Karina groaned beside you, pulling her knees up to her chest against the wind, “I still can’t believe we’re freezing our asses off here when we could be on your couch watching Harry Potter for the nth time.”

You let out a small laugh despite everything, the sound almost swallowed by the growing roar of the crowd as the teams lined up, “you said you’d come for moral support.”

“Yeah, well, moral support is currently questioning every life choice that led me here,” she muttered, but there was a reluctant smile tugging at her lips anyway, “at least the view isn’t completely terrible.”

The whistle blew and the game kicked off in a whirlwind of motion. You tried to follow the ball, the quick passes, the way the players cut across the pitch, but your eyes kept drifting back to Jake. He moved with this radiant energy that pulled focus without even trying, hair whipping in the wind, legs eating up the grass, every sprint full of that effortless, captivating drive. The crowd’s cheers rose and fell in effervescent waves, but you didn’t feel any better, still suffering with that familiar push-pull of suspicion and something warmer you really didn’t wish to name.

The first half was all back-and-forth tension, both teams trading chances without anyone breaking through. Jungwon kept up a quiet running commentary under his breath, trying to keep things light, while Karina complained about the cold seeping through her jacket and how much better butterbeer would taste than the lukewarm soda they were selling. You nodded along, but your attention stayed glued to Jake, much to your friends’ dismay. Every time he glanced toward the stands, even mid-run, your chest did this annoying little flip, which pissed you off. 

Then the second half heated up. The score stayed locked until the final minutes, the air thick with anticipation. Jake got the ball near the edge of the box, dodged one defender, then another as he cut inside. The crowd held its breath as he struck it clean, a powerful curving shot that sailed straight into the top corner, past the keeper’s desperate reach.

The stadium lit up into celebration but Jake didn’t celebrate with the team right away. He turned straight toward the stands, eyes scanning until they found you. Then he pointed, right at you, his whole face breaking into this bright, almost whimsical smile as he jogged backward, arm still extended like he was making sure the entire world knew exactly who that goal was for. His jersey had ridden up in the sprint, revealing the sharp, glistening lines of his abs under the stadium lights, every defined ridge catching the late afternoon sun for a fleeting second before the fabric fell back down.

Your heart raced, oh that traitorous little thing, thudding hard enough that you could feel it in your throat. Heat rushed to your cheeks even as the knowledge of the bet sat heavy in your stomach, whispering that none of this was real. Still, for that split second, with the roar of the crowd and his hair messy in the wind and that radiant look aimed straight at you, it felt too much. Too real perhaps? Too dangerous regardless. The enigmatic pull of him was getting harder to ignore, and you hated how easily your body responded anyway.

Karina snorted beside you, rolling her eyes so hard it was almost theatrical, “oh my god, could he be any more performative? Pointing like he’s the hero in some cheesy romance movie, puh-lease.”

Jungwon chuckled quietly, but his eyes flicked to you with that same protective glint from earlier. You didn’t say anything, just stared down at the field as Jake got swarmed by his teammates, the final whistle blowing and the win sinking in. The crowd was still cheering wildly, but all you could feel was the lingering echo of that pointed finger and the confusing satiation it left within your chest.

Jungwon turned to you, voice low so only you could hear, “so, you’re actually going through with the plan?”

You let out a long sigh, shoulders dropping as you pushed yourself up from the bleacher. The metal was cold under your palms, “yeah, I kinda have to now. It’s the only way to beat him at his own game.” 

Karina stood too, brushing off her jeans with a dramatic huff, “let’s get out of here before I turn into an icicle, you better make him drop down on his knees, babe.”

You nodded, hugging them both, but instead of heading toward the exit, your feet carried you toward the locker room area. You hated this part already, leaning against the brick wall, arms wrapped around yourself against the biting wind, you waited, every second dragging like you were standing there on purpose just to prove a point to yourself.

The door eventually did swing open and you watched Jake stepping out, hair still damp from the shower and curling softly at the ends, a fresh black hoodie hanging loose over his frame. He was laughing at something one of the guys said behind him when his eyes landed on you, causing him to stop mid-step.

For a second he just stared, surprise flickering across his face before it melted into this softer, brighter, almost disbelieving expression. His lips parted, and then he broke into the biggest, most genuine smile you had seen on him yet. It was radiant, boyish in how uncontained it was, his eyes lighting up like you were the best part of his entire day, and it made your throat go dry.

“Hey—you’re still here,” he said, voice warm and a little breathless as he walked straight over to you. 

You pushed off the wall, trying to keep your expression casual even as your heart picked up speed, “you played really well out there. That last goal was incredible, it was the first time I experienced the whole stadium going crazy,” you said, completely ignoring the part where he dedicated that goal to you.

Jake’s smile grew even wider, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. He ran a hand through his damp hair, still looking at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were standing there, “you really stayed for the whole thing. God, that means a lot. I kept looking up into the stands and there you were. I—it motivated me, I can’t even explain it.”

He looked so happy, so openly thrilled, his eyes bright and captivating under the fading stadium lights. The way he was looking at you, like your presence genuinely made his day, made something dangerous flutter in your chest despite the reality of it all. You stepped a little closer, heart hammering, and did what you had to do.

You rose onto your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, letting it linger for a second, “Uhm—I’ll see you around,” you murmured against his skin, starting to pull back.

But Jake’s hand gently caught your wrist, stopping you. His touch was light, almost careful, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he held on too tight, since this did seem like a dream to him. Behind him, Heeseung had paused in the doorway, watching the whole exchange with an amused little smirk he wasn’t even trying to hide.

“Wait,” Jake said softly, still processing the kiss, his thumb brushing once over your skin, “you’re leaving already?”

You swallowed, “yeah. I have an assignment I need to finish tonight.”

He nodded, but didn’t let go right away, “right, of course.” Then, a little shyly, he added, “there’s a party at the house tonight—but if that doesn’t work, we’re having a smaller one at the dorm in a few days. Just the guys and whoever shows up. You should come, I promise I’ll make it worthwhile for you.”

You hesitated, the warmth of his fingers and the hope in his eyes making it harder than it should have been, “I’m not really a party person, Jake.”

“I know,” he said quickly, voice gentle, “that’s why I’m telling you it’ll be chill. No pressure at all, just come hang out for a bit. I’ll even make sure there’s something better than cheap beer. Please?”

The way he looked at you, so earnest and a little nervous, made you feel guilty just a smidge. You could feel Heeseung’s amused gaze on the both of you, but you kept your focus on Jake.

“I’ll think about it,” you said finally, offering a small smile.

Jake’s eyes lit up like you’d already said yes. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

You gave him one last nod before gently pulling your wrist back and turning to leave, but Jake’s hand caught your wrist again, gentle in his action, like he couldn’t let the moment slip away just yet. He gave a light tug, drawing you back toward him until your back pressed against his chest. For a heartbeat you felt the solid warmth of him behind you, the faint dampness of his hoodie, the steady rhythm of his breathing. Then he leaned down, one arm slipping loosely around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

His lips were plump and soft, warm from the shower, staying there for a second longer than necessary. The touch was rather unhurried, sending a quiet shiver through you that had absolutely nothing to do with the wind.

“Jake—”

When he pulled back, he bit his lower lip, eyes bright and a little shy as they met yours, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, voice hopeful, like the words were a promise he was already holding onto.

You managed a small nod, heart still stumbling over itself, and finally stepped away. The spot on your cheek stayed warm long after you turned the corner, and you wondered how this game was gonna end. 

CHAPTER FIVE: Soaked and blue balled. 

She gets cold so fast, shoulders hunch up the second wind hits.

She keeps twisting the rings on her index and ring finger.

She has a faint dimple on her right cheek.

She fits perfectly in my ar—

Now, Jake had not the faintest clue where he was going with this, yet he kept on writing under the pretence of keeping all the minute observations in a precise manner for his advantage. He stared at the page for another moment, then shut the notebook and tossed it onto his desk. 

The ever so unforeseeable rain had started hammering against his window, and he watched one single raindrop cascading down the surface before he sat right up, grabbing an umbrella to head out without any destination in his mind. Well, he did have to bring Jay back from Jungwon’s dorm (who was facing this taxing challenge of acting normal around his hyung). It didn’t go beyond that really.

He wasn’t used to this silence and peace, he never really went out in the rain, calling it the perfect time to just play games with his friends. However, it was truly hard to pinpoint what made him rush out like this, only coming back to reality once he reached the lecture hall area. He was about to keep walking when he saw you pushing through the doors with Haechan beside you. Jake knew him, he was Jeno’s friend and also one of the dude who fucked around a lot.

Jake wasn’t any better by any means, but he hadn’t even thought of such a thing in the past eleven days. He simply stopped, watching how your umbrella showed no signs of cooperating in this windy weather, and your shoulders were starting to hunch in the same way Jake had noticed during his half time game yesterday. 

He jogged to you, dismissing any other thought, especially the one that sounded a lot like Jay’s voice laughing at him for being too involved, “hey—wait up!”

You turned around, rain evident on your lashes already, and in that fleeting second, your mind was quick to admit his beauty under the dimness of the evening. 

He lifted his umbrella higher, covering you completely as you lowered yours, the wide canopy shutting out the worst of the storm and pulling the two of you into a small, private bubble.

“Jay’s over at your dorm with Jungwon right now,” he said, a little out of breath, water dripping from the ends of his hair. “He needed some notes or something. I was heading there anyway to pick him up. Come on, my umbrella’s bigger.”

You glanced at your own umbrella, which was flapping uselessly, “I have one.”

“Yeah, but it’s not doing you much good,” Jake replied, stepping closer so the shelter stayed perfectly over you. His shoulder brushed yours as you started walking, “seriously—you’ll be soaked before you even get halfway. Let me walk you.”

Haechan gave you a quick, amused look and muttered something about seeing you in lab tomorrow before disappearing down another path with a wave, making you roll your eyes as he made missy faces, which Jake noticed.

The two of you fell into step under the umbrella. Jake kept it tilted toward you even when it meant his own left side kept getting wet. The closeness was apparent, his arm warm against yours, the faint clean scent of his shampoo mixing with the wet earth and rain. Every time you stepped around a puddle, his sleeve brushed your wrist, sending a small spark up your arm.

For a minute the only sound was the rain. Then Jake spoke, voice low and a little playful, “you know, I was halfway convinced you’d avoid me today after yesterday.”

You let out a small breath of laughter, “I thought about it, then I remembered I don’t own a boat and the campus flooded.”

He grinned, glancing down at you. The way the rain made your lashes look darker, the little droplets clinging to your skin, made his stomach flip, “lucky for me then. I would’ve been stuck walking alone, getting soaked, feeling so sorry for myself.”

“You’re still getting soaked,” you pointed out, noticing how his left shoulder was dark with water. Without thinking you shifted a little closer under the umbrella, your arm pressing more firmly against his.

Jake bit down his smile, “worth it. Besides, you’re warm and It’s nice.” His voice dropped a fraction, “are you always freezing or is it just me that brings the chill?”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips curved despite yourself, “It’s the rain, genius. Though you do have a habit of making normal things seem complicated.”

“Complicated in a good way, I hope,” he said, the words light but his eyes searching yours for a second longer than necessary. His free hand brushed yours again as you both avoided another puddle, and this time his fingers lingered for half a second before he managed to pull himself back.

The rain kept falling, steady and heavy, but under the umbrella everything felt smaller, rather warmer, you noticed how steady his breathing was, how the warmth of him seemed to chase away the chill seeping into your bones. He bit the inside of his cheek because in that moment, he wasn’t really acting, the wanton ease you provided him with was too real.

“You’re weird,” you muttered, clearly not meaning any bit of it, and he knew the implication behind it, or maybe it was his maladaptive daydreaming.

The dorm building appeared through the silver curtain of rain. Jake slowed deliberately, drawing the last few steps out as if the walk could stretch forever. When you reached the small covered overhang by the entrance, he lowered the umbrella but didn’t step away. Instead he moved in closer, guiding you gently until your back met the cool brick wall. The overhang sheltered you both from the downpour, but the world narrowed to the narrow space between your bodies and the solid wall behind you.

He was close now, so close you could see the tiny freckles across his cheek, the way his damp hair curled softly at the temples yet again, the faint flush across the bridge of his nose from the cold. His gaze moved over your face with quiet hunger, taking in every detail—the way rain glistened on your skin, the soft flush on your cheeks, the faint dimple that appeared when your lips parted slightly. You looked so pretty like this, natural and glowing in the dim light, and the sight made his throat tighten.

You raised your eyebrow, heart hammering against your ribs, “Jake?”

He only smiled, slow and unsteady, biting down on his bottom lip as he leaned in closer, closer, until the space between you was almost gone. His eyes dropped to your mouth, dark and wanting, then lifted again to meet yours. In that suspended second neither of you were thinking about the bet, about the car, about the game you were both playing. There was only the rain, the warmth of his breath against your skin, and the dizzying pull that made everything else disappear.

Right then the dorm door swung open with a loud metallic scrape.

Jay stepped out, nearly walking straight into the moment. He stopped short, eyes widening as he took in how close you and Jake were standing against the wall.

“Whoa, Y/N?” Jay said, a smirk already spreading across his face, “am I interrupting something?”

Your eyes widened in realization and you slipped sideways, ducking under Jake’s arm without a word. You pushed through the door and disappeared inside, cheeks burning, the echo of the almost-kiss still buzzing hot in your mind.

Jake stayed frozen, then groaned hard. He turned and leaned back against the same brick wall, eyes falling shut as the rain continued to fall around him, umbrella now lowered. His heart was still racing, loud and unsteady, the ghost of your warmth lingering against his chest. 

He let out a slow breath, jaw tight. I’m going to kill Jay.

CHAPTER SIX: Jaemin the instigator. 

Jake had only read a few books in his life, only one of which had a plot that truly stuck with him as someone who was never an avid enjoyer of reading literature. There was a line that kept replaying in his mind lately, more often than he cared to admit.

As soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to happen.

Funny enough, it was from Winnie the pooh. 

It isn’t a romantic line, not even remotely, but he manages to fit it into his narrative perfectly, especially during the quiet. Mind drifting back to when the rain had been dripping from the eaves and your back had been against the brick and he’d leaned in close enough to feel the warmth of your breath. The bet had started as a stupid game. Now it felt like the kind of quiet adventure he hadn’t seen coming.

Unfortunately, the distraction followed him to the practice field. 

During a simple change-of-direction drill, his mind slipped again. The ball came low across the turf and Jake planted his left foot to cut inside, making his ankle roll with an ugly twist. It wasnt anything dramatic, just a sharp flare of pain that shot up his calf and dropped him to one knee, breath hissing between his teeth.

Jay reached him first, crouching down fast, “shit, Jake, what the hell? You good?”

Heeseung slowed beside them, still breathing hard, “dude, you’ve been completely zoned out all week, like—really zoned out. This bet is fucking with your head too much, just call it off, man. For real.”

Sunghoon hung back a step, arms crossed, watching quietly, “coach is gonna notice, y’know? It’s not worth it.”

Jake sat back on the grass, testing the ankle with a careful flex, the place already swelling under the sock. Minor, probably, but it hurt enough to make his eyes sting for a second,“It’s fine,” he muttered, forcing the usual half-smile, “just a tweak—I’m good.”

From the edge of the drill Jaemin let out a soft, pleased laugh, “or this is actually perfect timing. Wounded-puppy Jake? She’s gonna eat it up.” He clapped Jake on the back once, “I’ll handle it. You just stay looking all soft and grateful.”

Jay shot him a sharp look, “Jaemin, I swear to God—”

But Jaemin was already jogging off to find you. 

You were stepping out of your last lecture when Jaemin fell into step beside you, which was kind of scary. 

“Jake’s in the medical room,” Jaemin said casually, making your eyes go wide at the sudden voice, “twisted his ankle pretty bad at practice. Trainer’s got him taped up with ice, might even sit out the next game if it swells.”

A flicker of worry did pass through your head, but then you shrugged, “hm, kinda sounds minor.”

Jaemin’s smirk was small, “c’mon, this is perfect for the bet. He’s all vulnerable right now, best time for you to go and play nurse, make him fall a little harder. You’re already halfway there anyway.” He bumped your shoulder lightly. 

You sighed, the worry sitting heavier than you wanted to admit. Pretty bad, he’d said, “fine—I’ll check on him.”

Jaemin grinned, satisfied, “atta girl.” He peeled off toward the dorms.

You told yourself you weren’t going to bring anything. But the cafeteria line was short, and the smell of warm rice and simple broth pulled you in anyway. You ended up with a container of congee, a cold can of the original red bull, and two slightly squished steamed buns. Your hands stayed steady, but your pulse? Yeah, it didn’t.

The medical room door was halfway open. You knocked once with your elbow and stepped inside.

Jake was on the padded table, left leg propped up, ice pack soggy at the edges. His practice jersey hung open, undershirt damp against his chest, dark curls still messy and sticking to his temples. He looked tired—shoulders a little slumped, the usual bright energy dialed way down. For a second you just stood there in the doorway, and Jake’s eyes lifted to meet yours.

He gulped at the sight of you, the way a few strands of hair had slipped loose after class, the small crease between your brows that you probably didn’t even realize was there. You looked pretty like this.

Jay and Heeseung were hovering nearby. The second they saw you with the bag, they exchanged a quick glance.

Jay cleared his throat, lips twitching, “well, look who showed up.”

Heeseung pushed off the wall with a low chuckle, “we were just leaving anyway. Coach wants us back on the field.” He gave Jake’s shoulder a gentle clap. “Don’t be an idiot, yeah?” The two of them slipped out, the door clicking shut behind them and leaving the room suddenly quieter. 

Jake cleared his throat, bottom lip bitten as he observed you walking closer, “I—you didn’t have to come,” he mumbled, flustered all of a sudden. 

“You’re really being shy at me visiting you? Aren’t you the flirt of the campus?” You chuckled, “but yeah, heard you fucked up your ankle pretty bad, figured you’d be hungry.” 

His ears flushed red, “yeah, well—I wasn’t expecting anyone here, least of all you showing up here with food,” he shifted on the padded table, wincing a little, “thanks, genuinely. I was mentally preparing myself to order takeout today.”

You set the bag on the counter, pulling out the container and a spoon, handing them over. Your fingers brushed his, absorbing the warmth of his skin, and he took the food with a grateful smile. 

He peeled the lid back and took the first bite. His eyes fluttered shut for half a second. “God, this is actually really good,” he murmured, “way better than anything I would’ve scavenged later.” He ate quietly after that, the spoon scraping softly against the plastic, but every few bites his gaze lifted to you. 

You dragged the plastic stool closer and sat down beside the table, elbow resting on the edge near his good leg, watching the way his throat moved when he swallowed, the small crease between his brows when he shifted his ankle, the way his damp hair fell across his forehead. He looked softer like this, stripped of the usual energy—which you had grown accustomed to.

“Does it hurt too much?” You asked.

Jake shrugged one shoulder, “throbs like a bitch when I put any weight on it. Nurse said it’s just a swelling, I’ll survive.” He took another bite, then glanced at you again, heart warm at the sight of you going out of your way to be here—even though it stemmed from Jaem’s instigations. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. I know you had a full day.”

“It wasn’t that far out of the way,” you lied, because admitting you’d gone to the cafeteria on purpose felt too revealing, “besides, someone had to make sure you didn’t try to be a hero and walk on it.”

He let out a low chuckle, “guilty, I probably would’ve.” He set the container down for a moment, fingers brushing the edge of the table near your arm. The contact was light, accidental, but it stayed there a second too long, “you’re really something else, you know that?”

You felt the heat creep up your neck but didn’t pull away, instead, you leaned in a little closer, resting your chin on your folded arms on the edge of the table, “eat the rest before it gets cold, idiot. I’m not carrying you anywhere.”

Jake grinned, small and crooked, but his eyes stayed soft on your face. He kept eating, slower now, like he was dragging the moment out. Your eyelids grew heavy. The day pressed down on you all at once—the lectures, the walking, the quiet ache of pretending this was still just part of the game. You let your head rest fully on your arms, cheek against the cool edge of the table, close enough that your breath stirred the fabric of his shirt. Just for a minute, you told yourself.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but the warmth of the room, the steady sound of his breathing, the faint scent of ginger and him all mixed together, and your eyes slipped shut completely.

Jake went completely still.

He set the spoon down without a sound and lowered himself back onto the table until he was lying flat, turning his head so he could look at you properly. You were right there—head pillowed on your arms on the edge of the table, breathing slow and even, lashes dark against your skin, lips slightly parted. A strand of hair had fallen across your face. He reached out without thinking, fingertips barely grazing it before he caught himself and pulled back.

Would it make any sense for Jake to feel this unexpected emotion he still couldn’t quite pinpoint? Maybe his friends were right, he didn’t really need to follow through with whatever the bet was about. It really wasn’t worth hurting you, or himself—but then, did you even think of him as someone close to you? Perhaps as a friend at least? 

He let out a slow, shaky breath, and resorted to watching you—the way your shoulder rose and fell, the way your fingers formed a cute fist, how you let your guard down enough for your body to trust itself to fall asleep right next to him. Perhaps it was something small, yet to him, it was grand. 

So, he just lay there, inches away from you, letting the silence settle as his mind spun in circles he couldn’t stop.

CHAPTER SEVEN: Holy stalker

“So, you spent hours sleeping with him?” 

“You’re literally wording it wrong Jungwon.”

“And you almost kissed right outside the dorm—”

“Can you guys stop?” You groaned, but Karina was far from done, she was just getting started actually.

“—you can’t fucking lie to us, like genuinely you were smiling when you came in yesterday and today. What’s next? Fucking him at a party?”

“Oh god—nothing is happening, what is wrong with you both?” You stand up from the couch, turning to stare at both your friends, who sat rather comfortably with their arms crossed.

“This is not nothing, I’m just asking you, what’s the end point? Where would you draw the line, hm? If it requires physicality for him to actually fall in love with you, would you do it?”

Well, Karina did have a point. 

“We’re grown adults with active sex life so, why would that change anything?” You finish, almost defensive. 

Karina’s eyebrows shot up so fast it was almost comical. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, that wicked grin spreading slow across her face, “oh my god, listen to you. Active sex life, babe, you haven’t had dick in months and now you’re out here acting like it’s no big deal if Jake Sim rails you for the sake of the bet? Be so fucking for real right now.”

Jungwon nearly spit out his coffee, “Rina—”

“No, no, let me speak,” Karina cut him off, waving a hand without breaking eye contact with you, “I’m not judging, I’m just saying—if he’s already got you smiling like an idiot and almost-kissing you against a wall in the rain, what’s stopping you from seeing how far it goes? You gonna let him fuck you on the kitchen counter just to watch his ego implode when you ghost him after? Because honestly? I’d pay to see that. But don’t lie to yourself and say it’s all strategy when you’re feeling that way for him.”

You felt your face burn hot, “It’s not like that. I’m not—god, I’m not planning on sleeping with him, okay? I’m still in control.”

Karina barked out a laugh, “look, I love you, but if you’re gonna play this game, at least own it, and you’re allowed to enjoy the ride before you drop him and collect our Paris trip. Just don’t catch feelings and cry to us when the car means more to him than you do.”

Jungwon rubbed the back of his neck, looking equal parts amused and concerned, “she’s got a point, even if she’s saying it like a psycho. Just be careful, I still don’t trust him around you, but you’re always welcome to cry to us.”

You threw a pillow at Karina’s head. It bounced off her shoulder and she just cackled harder, “you two are the worst. Go to class before I actually kick you out.”

They finally dragged themselves up—Jungwon pulling you into a quick, tight hug and muttering, “text me if it gets weird,” before heading out, Karina pausing in the doorway to shoot you one last teasing smirk, “If you do end up letting him hit, at least make him beg first. Love you, bitch.” The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the dorm suddenly, blissfully quiet.

You let out a long breath and flopped back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. Your lab had been cancelled last minute—the TA had blown up the group chat at 8:47 with some excuse about electrophoresis set up not working—and now the whole morning stretched out empty in front of you. 

Too much time to think about yesterday, or the day before that, or—

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, thankfully breaking the train of your thoughts. You grabbed it lazily, expecting another spam message from the group chat. Instead it was an Instagram DM.

jake.sim: hey

didn’t have your number so i figured i’d slide in here like a normal person instead of showing up at your door like a creep 

Your lip twitched, just a smidge, because of course Jake would find your instagram and text out of nowhere. 

you: hi and you still managed to sound like a creep anyway

The three dots popped up instantly, like he’d been waiting with his phone in his hand.

jake.sim: fair actually  listen, random question is your oven working? mine’s been dead for two days and i’m craving something sweet

You stared at the screen, thumb hovering. Of course he had friends with working ovens. Half the football house probably had better kitchens than you did. But he was asking you, specifically.

you: yeah it works why

jake.sim: can i come bake a cake at your place? i’ll bring everything just wanna spend time with you, if that’s cool

Your stomach did a stupid little flip, and you groaned. What have you even come to?

you: sure door’s unlocked if you’re fast enough

Twenty minutes later there was a soft knock. You opened it to find Jake standing there in his black hoodie and grey sweats, hair still a little damp from a shower, maybe. Arms full of grocery bags, and he looked unfairly good, but when he shifted the bags higher on his arm you caught the tiniest wince in his leg. He hid it fast with that easy grin.

“Hey,” he breathed out, staring at just how comfortable you looked in shorts, “thanks for letting me invade, i come bearing burgers to show my gratitude.”

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, trying to ignore the way his eyes dragged down your bare legs for half a second before snapping back up, “didn’t you say you wanted a cake?” You raised your eyebrow. 

His grin turned a little sheepish, “cake’s the whole point, yes. Burgers are just—extra, i saw you eating this with Jungwon two days back so—”

“So you are a stalker—”

“Just observant,” he finished quickly, stepping inside as you moved out of the way. The door clicked shut behind him and he realized that your flatmates were not home, leaving the place to you and him, “not in a creepy way though.”

You just nodded, as if humouring him, eyes fixed on his hands—which were veiny as hell somehow—unpacking the stuff including flour, sugar, eggs, and well, every ingredient needed for a good cake, before giving you a burger (he got two extras, just in case).

Hopping on the edge of the counter, you unwrapped the burger as he took all the bowls out with you pointing around the cabinets. The room itself was silent but his eyes? Pretty shameless, you’d admit, because his focus was more on your ridden shorts than the flour.

Jake caught himself after a second, lips twitching like he knew exactly what he was doing, “you really gonna sit there and not help me?”

You took a bite of the burger, chewing slowly while holding his gaze, “you’re the one who begged to come over and use my oven. Eyes on the bowl, Jake.”

He laughed under his breath, and went back to the flour, but the glance he stole at your legs was anything but subtle, “easier said than done when you’re sitting right there looking like that,” he mumbled to himself as he started scooping ingredients, movements smooth despite the way he kept most of his weight on his left leg, “pass me the sugar?”

You did so without getting down. He reached past you anyway, arm brushing the side of your thigh, and didn’t pull back right away. When you finally slid off the counter to actually help, he didn’t give you much space, he handed you the whisk and stepped right behind you, chest brushing your back as he reached around to adjust your grip on the handle.

“Easy circles,” he murmured, voice dropping close to your ear, “you can be gentle with it, y’know?”

Be gentle with me—is what he wished to say, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit how much he enjoyed your grumpiness as well, and he was almost eager to find what more you had to offer. 

His hand stayed over yours, so warm and steady, the other settled lightly on your waist, thumb slipping under the hem of your tank top to brush bare skin. You could feel every small shift of his body against yours, the clean scent of his hoodie mixing with the butter and vanilla already in the air.

“You’re crowding me,” you said, dry but not moving away.

“Am I?” His thumb traced one slow line along your hip, “didn’t hear you telling me to back up.”

You elbowed him lightly, feeling lightheaded, because it was odd how he actually achieved to bring out your playful side in what? Fourteen days since his bet started. But it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, “focus on the cake, not my legs.”

He leaned in, “trying and failing pretty badly.” His thumb traced one slow circle on your hip, right where your tank top had ridden up, and your pulse jumped harder. The touch was light, but it felt deliberate, like he was testing how long you’d let him stay this close.

The banter stayed easy after that, but every word felt—crazy. He teased you about not knowing how to bake (you actually didn’t). You told him he was being annoyingly precise for a guy who claimed he just wanted to hang out. Finally the batter came together, perfectly thick, smooth, and chocolatey. You scraped it into the pan he’d already greased, and Jake slid it into the oven without a word. He set the timer, then turned to you, leaning against the counter with that crooked grin.

“Twenty-five minutes,” he said, eyes flicking over you again, “think we can behave ourselves till then?”

You raised an eyebrow, still catching your breath from how close he’d been, “you’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself.”

Before he could answer, you flicked a leftover pinch of cocoa at his cheek—light, almost absentminded, but enough to leave a small dark smudge, shocking yourself at the easiness of it all. 

Jake blinked, then his grin turned wild, “oh, it’s like that?”

He scooped a small handful of leftover flour from the counter and flicked it right back at you. It exploded in a soft white cloud across your tank top and collarbone. You gasped, eyes widening, and retaliated instantly—grabbing more flour and tossing it at his chest. Another puff burst between you, dusting the front of his black hoodie and catching in his hair.

“Seriously?” He laughed, already scooping more, “you started it, babe.”

You tried to duck behind the island, but the kitchen was tiny and he was faster, even with the slight limp. He caught you around the waist mid-step, pulling you back as he flung another handful. Flour went everywhere—exploding in soft bursts across your arms, your hair, the counter. You twisted in his hold, laughing despite yourself, and managed to smear a streak of cocoa down his cheek before he spun you again.

He couldn’t explain it, but having you laugh so freely in his presence—him making you laugh, yeah, it felt pretty damn good, and this smile was way better than you had given Jungwon in the earlier days of Jake chasing you—not that he was comparing (he was).

Your back hit the edge of the counter, both of you breathing harder now, covered in white powder and cocoa streaks. His hands stayed locked on your waist, thumbs pressing in, meanwhile yours ended up fisted in the front of his hoodie, pulling without thinking. Flour clung to his lashes, dusted his hair, streaked across his jaw. Your heart was hammering, butterflies rioting in your stomach, every inch of you hyper-aware of how close he was, how warm his body felt through the thin layers between you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, eyes dropping straight to your mouth, “you’ve got flour on your lip.”

“So do you,” you whispered.

Jake didn’t wipe it away. He leaned in slow, giving you every chance to stop him. Your breath caught again, but you closed the last inch anyway.

His lips were just as soft as they appeared to be, but more hungry than you could fathom, or manage. It felt consuming, the way his mouth moved against yours with this urgency but also a silent battle of him holding back. A low sound rumbled in his chest when your lips parted, granting his tongue the excess it so desperately craved. 

It slid in slow, tasting faintly of the bitter cocoa and flour, your heart slammed against your ribs so hard you were sure he could feel it. Butterflies erupted low in your stomach, fluttering all around hard enough, it made your thighs press instinctively around his hips. 

Bet. Bet. Bet.  

The words flashed sharp in the back of your mind, but it dissolved rather quickly when Jake’s hand slid higher under your tank top, palm hot and rough against the bare skin of your back, fingers spreading wide as if he was trying to cover the expanse of your skin. His other hand stayed locked at your waist, thumb digging in just enough to anchor you against him while he kissed you deeper—slower, learning the shape of your mouth. 

Everything else was forgotten for both him and you. All that existed was the warmth of his body pressed flush to yours, the faint scratch of his hoodie against your arms, the way his breath hitched when you tugged harder at the front of it.

“Yeah—fuck, like that,” he murmured against your lips, “kiss me back harder, c’mon, pretty.”

And so you did, tongue sliding against his in a messy push-pull that made his breath hitch, “you came over here to bake a cake,” you managed between kisses, sarcastic even as your hips rolled forward to meet his, “not to end up grinding on me in my kitchen.”

Jake laughed low against your mouth, the sound wrecked, and pressed his hips forward harder, letting you feel exactly how hard he was getting through his sweats, “pretty sure you started the flour fight, sweetheart. Don’t act like you weren’t waiting for this.” He kissed you deeper, tongue stroking yours in a filthy rhythm while he ground against you slow and deliberate, the friction pulling a sharp breath from you, “there, yeah. Feel that? That’s what you do to me every time you look at me like that, so fucking pretty.”

“Shut up,” you shot back, nipping his bottom lip hard enough to make him groan, then soothing it with your tongue. You rocked your hips right back into his, matching his pace, “you talk too much.”

He grinned against your mouth, that cocky little curve you could feel more than see, and rolled his hips again, slower this time, dragging right where it made your breath catch, “and you fucking love it.” His hand tightened on your waist, holding you steady as he kept that steady, grinding rhythm, “but keep doing that with your hips—yeah, baby, just like that—fuck.”

The oven timer went off, making you realize exactly how much time you’d devoted to this unholy activity.

You both froze, foreheads pressed together, chests heaving. His lips were swollen, eyes dark and glassy, breath hot against your mouth. Jake let out a rough, breathless chuckle, still holding you close, thumb stroking slow circles on your waist like he couldn’t stop touching you, “cake’s done.”

You dropped your head to his shoulder, a quiet laugh escaping you too, “this is insane.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, lips brushing your temple before he kissed the corner of your mouth once, lingering for a few seconds, then helped you slide down off the counter, hands steady on your hips the whole way, like he wasn’t quite ready to let the moment slip away.

It felt too—intimate, not that the act of making out wasn’t on par, it clearly was, but this? It carried more emotion than just your everyday lust. 

While the cake cooled on the rack, he prepared the frosting, letting everything take place before he reached into one of the bags and pulled out a small box of candles, trying to focus on regulating his breathing, and you started with your eyebrows lifted.

“Candles? For a random cake?”

He shrugged, cheeks going a little pink under the flour, “It’s for you, actually. Kinda a thank you? You sat with me after the practice when my leg was fucked, nobody else would’ve stuck around like that. Figured I owed you something sweet.”

You stared at him for a second, because this felt too genuine again, “Jake, that’s—”

“Crazy?” He laughed softly, lighting the candles anyway. They flickered golden in the morning light, “yeah, maybe. But you make me want to do crazy shit.”

You shook your head, the word “dork” slipping out quiet and fond before you could stop it. He just grinned, making you blow the candles, and yet again, you indulged in his theatrics before he managed to cut two big slices, sliding one over to you.

The cake was actually perfect, and it was clear that there wasn’t anything Jake Sim couldn’t do, maybe he couldn’t make you fall for him, but even you weren’t too sure, granted that you’d been smiling, and it wasn’t fake by any means. You took a bite and hummed in surprise, Jake watched you the whole time with a satisfied look on his face.

Then he scooped a bit of frosting onto his finger and held it out, eyes locked on yours, “here—try it this way.”

You leaned in and took it off his finger with your lips, slow. His breath hitched hard, and when you pulled back, he brought the same finger to his own mouth and licked the rest off, shameless and unhurried, tongue dragging over the pad like he was tasting you instead of frosting.

“Fuck,” he murmured, stepping close again, hands finding your waist like they belonged there, “you’re gonna kill me, YN.”

If domesticity with you felt like this, then Jake swears he can give up his parties just to spend an extra minute holding you close to his heart—which never lied. Jake was never dumb, not even now. He had always been quick to acknowledge his feelings, which screamed at him that nothing else mattered in this moment, just him and you. When you started to look in his eyes again, you gulped.

Because all that existed was him looking at you like this was exactly where he wanted to be.

CHAPTER EIGHT: Redbull gives you wings 

“The fuck?” 

Jay frowned, staring at his best friend. 

The sight was diabolical to say the least, the smile on Jake’s face despite it all—idiotic. There was no way to describe it, at least for Jay, who couldn’t fathom what absurd war Jake had gotten into to return back home with flour on his hair and body, and wait was that a Tupperware full of chocolate cake in his hands?

Jake didn’t bother with explanations, simply dropping the box on Jay’s lap, courtesy of you packing some up saying how he’d managed to make way too much for a single person. 

With how loud Jay’s voice had been, Sunghoon and Heeseung managed out come out of their rooms, equally as confused.

“Explain,” Sunghoon muttered, sitting next to Jay and grabbing a piece of cake.

“Nothing really, i just went to bake a cake with Y/N,” he managed to let out, still dazed. 

“And she decided to maul you with flour?” Heeseung winced, brushing some power off of Jake’s hair, “seems like you lost the fight.”

“C’mon, she started it, so of course I didn’t stop at that—and things, uhm, escalated.”

Right then, Hoon took a big bite of the sweet, regret clear on his face, nose wrinkling, “what the fuck, dude—there’s a whole patch of raw flour in the middle.”

Well, that batch was put in after the flour fight, which would explain the quality difference. 

Heeseung, who had already taken a forkful, shrugged and kept eating happily, “tastes fine to me. A bit lumpy, but the chocolate fixes it.”

Jay refused to touch it, not being polite in the way he pushed the whole container towards Heeseung, “yeah, I’m not eating that. And why do you look like you just got laid?”

Jake rubbed a hand over his jaw, the corners of his mouth still curved up, “we may have gotten a little distracted after the cake went in the oven.”

Heeseung choked, “distracted, how?”

Jake shrugged, not even trying to hide how pleased he was, “by kissing—a lot, oh god it felt good.” 

Jay dragged both hands down his face, “you went over there to make her fall for you and ended up making out with her in the kitchen? Jake, what the hell is going on with you? You’ve barely looked at any other girl in weeks.”

Jake didn’t answer right away. He just picked up a piece of the slightly floury cake and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully even though it really wasn’t that great.

“I’m thankful though, I can finally sleep without having to hear moans each fucking night,” Heeseung shudders, mind drifting back to how loud Jake and his night partners used to be. 

Sunghoon barked out a laugh, “yeah, we went from daily noise complaints to peaceful silence. Did you catch feelings or did she put her tear drop into the cake batter?”

“Shut up, it’s not like that,” Jake mumbled, though the tips of his ears turning red said otherwise, “and we’re not in Descendants.”

They all just stared at him, till he managed to huff, sitting down on the couch which offered no space to him, dirtying it in the process, “it’s just—it’s nice, okay? I don’t have to be loud or use up all my energy around her, it feels calm to be there even in silence.”

Jay almost gagged, “calm? Did you just change your whole personality cause you’re in love now?”

Sunghoon was grinning, “next thing you know he’ll be holding her hand on campus and calling her baby in public, and trust, I’ll be documenting every bit of it.”

Jake threw a small piece of cake at him, missing on purpose, “you guys are annoying as hell. Can we talk about something else?”

The boys kept teasing him for a few more minutes—throwing in dramatic predictions about Jake turning into a full boyfriend and suggestions to get him a I’m in my soft era shirt before finally letting it go and arguing about tomorrow’s practice instead. Jake just leaned back on the couch, half-listening, the small smile never quite leaving his face.

Because he knew things had changed, and so did you. It was a gradual shift, from you tolerating Jake’s presence to enjoying it (well, some part of you did at least). The idea of seeing him often didn’t make you groan in agony, it felt like a routine granted Jake had your schedule memorized to his bones, and he made it his mission to randomly appear and fall in step with you without making it awkward. 

“Hey, got you some coffee,” he’d naturally say, always bringing the latte, but he did make you try out an overly sweet drink which he fancied, and somehow, you didn’t hate it. 

It was concerning to say the least, your friends being more concerned than you, but of course no one was blind to the fact that maybe Jake was more deep in this than you were, and that bit was not an act, not anymore at least. 

It only escalated when one afternoon, you showed up at his practice session without him having you ask, a cold can of coconut berry red bull tucked in your bag. When you tossed it his way, his whole face lit up and he stared at you with such warmth, it seemed like his eyes were shining. It wasn’t a big deal, right? 

Wrong. Jake knew it didn’t take a lot to do something for others, but you’d noticed his favourite flavour—you’d managed to remember it despite him having not mentioned it. 

He was glad it was break time, cause he immediately cracked it open, “you remembered?”

You wanted to slap yourself for how hard it was to not smile at him, so you managed a shrug, “yeah, not a big deal.”

He stepped closer, still in his practice jersey, hair slightly damp from running drills, and you noticed how they’d grown longer, the afternoon sun catching on the sharp line of his collarbone. For a second he just looked at you, “it’s a big deal when you do it.”

The way he said it was enough to send a warm flutter through your chest that you quickly tried to ignore. You crossed your arms, pretending to watch the team stretching behind him, “don’t make it weird, Sim.”

“I’m not,” he replied, but the small grin tugging at his lips said otherwise. He took another sip, eyes never really leaving your face, and he swore, it was the best drink he’d ever had.

It almost felt like you were flying in the moment, as cheesy as it might be, maybe you’d blame redbull for giving you wings or whatever. 

There were other small things too. He started saving you the quiet corner seat in the library because he knew you liked your back to the wall. You’d gotten him a hair tie when you noticed the length of his hair again, and the second he tied his hair, even you were rendered speechless for a moment. 

The way it exposed the clean line of his jaw and the sharp cut of his cheekbones made something in your stomach tighten unexpectedly. You quickly looked back down at your notes, pretending you hadn’t noticed, oh but he noticed, and leaned in till his nose brushed against yours, “how do i look?” he’d asked.

“Good,” you remember breathing out, making him smile and lean in further, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before jogging back to the field, where three of his friends stood with their mouths hung open. It was a rather comical sight for anyone who watched from a distance. 

At least to Jaemin, it was. He was always lurking around, and no one knew what he was trying to achieve. Jeno could only shake his head standing beside him, but well. 

Anyway, as if that wasn’t enough, Jake would send you random memes at 2 a.m. when he knew you were still up studying, and you’d reply with a dry “go to sleep” that always made him smile at his phone like an idiot. 

Jake had truly forgotten about the bet.

The whole stupid game barely crossed his mind anymore. He wasn’t playing anymore. He just wanted to be around you.

You were trying to bury the memory of the bet deep inside too. Every time it tried to creep up, you shoved it back down. You told yourself you were still in control, that this was all part of the plan. But the truth was simpler and scarier—you liked having him around. You liked the easy quiet when you studied together. You liked the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. 

And that terrified you more than anything.

CHAPTER NINE: Jealousy allegations?

“Are you like a hundred percent sure?”

You sighed, plopping on your bed with ease as you stared at Karina, who’d asked you this question at least, give or take, a million times. 

“Yes, I am sure—gosh, you gotta stop,” you mumbled, running a hand over your skirt, while Karina shook her head. 

“Trust me I have a feeling that something will happen tonight,” she exasperated for the nth time. 

Jake was finally throwing that party he’d mentioned after his game a few days back, and to Heeseung courtesy, it wasn’t a small gathering anymore, but a full blown party at their dormitory which won’t even fit the amount of people he’d invited. 

“What would happen? C’mon, I’m really okay,” you tried to reason. 

“Okay? Girl, you’re practically beaming, and you got ready before I did, is that not proof enough?” She went on, doing her eyeliner by side, “you look hot as hell in that skirt by the way, I’ll be praying for Jake.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. The black skirt sat high on your waist, paired with a simple fitted top that showed just enough skin, and most importantly—you felt confident about yourself, which just completed the look altogether. 

“Whatever. Let’s just go before I change my mind.”

Jungwon was already ready and waiting outside, and so you three went on as they both kept mumbling warnings in your ear, as if a child going outside alone for the first time. 

“Seriously, if he gets weird just text me,” Jungwon said, half-joking.

Karina bumped your shoulder. “Or I’ll drag you out myself. I’m still not convinced this is a good idea.”

You just shook your head and kept walking.

The dorm was loud when you stepped inside, music playing from the living room and voices overlapping in every corner. The place smelled like pizza and cheap beer (of course), the usual Saturday night mess. People were everywhere—some chilling on the couches, others crowding the kitchen for drinks.

You hadn’t even taken three steps before Jake spotted you.

He was mid-conversation with Jay near the counter, cup halfway to his mouth, when he froze. His eyes locked on you and stayed there, dragging slowly from your face down to the skirt and back up again. For a second he looked completely thrown, like someone (you) had knocked the air out of him. Then he was moving, crossing the room in a straight line without saying a word to anyone, and Jay only shook his head with a small smile. 

The second he reached you he pulled you into a hug.

His arms wrapped around you tight, one hand splaying across your lower back, the other sliding up to cradle the back of your head. He buried his face in your hair for a long moment, breathing you in like he needed it. You felt his chest rise and fall against yours, warm and solid, completely forgetting your friends who tried to process the situation from a respectful distance. 

“Fuck,” he muttered into your hair, voice low and rough, “you look—I don’t even know what to say right now.”

You laughed softly against his shoulder, letting yourself relax into the hug, “hi, Jake.”

He didn’t let go right away. His thumb rubbed a slow circle on your back, almost absentminded, and when he finally pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes were darker than usual, a little dazed, “you’re actually trying to kill me tonight, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow, fighting a smile, “It’s just a skirt.”

“It’s not just a skirt,” he said, voice quieter. His hand stayed on your waist, thumb brushing the edge of the fabric like he couldn’t help it.

You were about to tease him some more when he finally loosened his hold, stepping half a step back so he could actually look at you properly. His eyes flicked down again, then back up, and he let out a small breath like he was trying to collect himself.

That was when Sunoo wandered over from the kitchen, two cups in hand, spotting you both.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sunoo said, voice bright and easy like it always was in lab, “you actually came. I was starting to think you’d bail after that nightmare protocol we had last night.”

You turned toward him with a small laugh, “yeah, I almost did, Karina basically dragged me here,” you lied easily. 

Sunoo grinned, holding out one of the cups, “here, sprite with lime. I know you hate the sweet crap they make in the kitchen.”

Jake raised his brow, almost ready to scoff because you did like sweet drinks, and whoever this man was clearly didn’t know you enough. 

“Thanks,” you said, taking it, “needed that, the last lab almost killed me too.”

“Tell me about it,” Sunoo replied, leaning casually against the wall, “I spent twenty minutes trying to fix my gel after it kept tearing. Thought the TA was gonna cry with me.” He glanced at your outfit and nodded appreciatively. “By the way, that skirt looks really good on you. Way better than the lab coat.”

You let out a soft laugh, “appreciate it. Lab coat does no one any favors.”

Sunoo chuckled, “right? Anyway, how’s your presentation prep going? You were stressing about the lack of research papers ast class—”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Jake’s hand tighten slightly on your waist. He hadn’t moved away completely, still standing close enough that his shoulder brushed yours.

Across the room, Karina caught your eye from where she was standing with Jungwon near the couch. She raised her brows in a clear what the hell look, while Jungwon just shook his head slowly, arms crossed like he was already bracing himself. Jay, leaning against the kitchen counter with Heeseung and Sunghoon, muttered something that made all three of them glance over. Heeseung smirked, while Sunghoon shook his head again, amused. Jaemin, kicked back on the armchair nursing a drink, was outright grinning like he’d hit the jackpot.

Sunoo kept talking, completely unaware, asking a casual question about the upcoming quiz. You answered easily, laughing at the right moments because talking to Sunoo was just—simple? He was the same bubbly guy from lab who always offered to share notes honestly. 

Jake’s jaw ticked though, he wasn’t happy with this situation at all.

After another minute of the easy back-and-forth, Jake’s hand slid firmly from your waist to your lower back.

“Hey,” he said to Sunoo, voice calm but edged, “mind if I steal her for a second?”

Sunoo blinked, then gave an easy, unbothered smile, “yeah, of course. Nice catching up, Y/N.”

Jake didn’t bother waiting really. His hand stayed steady on your lower back as he guided you through the living room, weaving between people chatting and laughing. You could feel the tension in his fingers, the way they pressed a little harder than necessary against the fabric of your top. He didn’t say a word the whole way down the hallway. The party noise faded behind you, turning into a muffled hum.

The second his bedroom door clicked shut, Jake turned to face you, eyes dark, stepping in close, backing you up until your shoulders hit the door. His hand came up, fingers brushing your jaw, tilting your head just slightly to the side.

“Ignoring me the second he came in to talk, hm?” He asked, voice low as his breath ghosted over your neck as he leaned in, lips barely brushing the skin just below your ear, “looking this good while doing so?”

You swallowed, “Jake, he was just—”

He cut you off by pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss right under your jaw. You felt his teeth graze lightly, then the warm drag of his tongue.

“Answer me,” he murmured against your skin, voice smug, “what was so funny?”

Your breath hitched, “It—it wasn’t anything, just talking about the lab—”

He simply granted you another kiss, slower this time, right by your pulse. His hand slid down to grip your waist, holding you in place as he sucked lightly on the same spot.

“You stuttered,” he said, the words warm against your neck, you could hear the smirk in his voice, “so fucking cute.”

You let out a shaky laugh, even as heat pooled low in your stomach, “you’re actually jealous right now, aren’t you?”

Jake pulled back just enough to look at you, not waiting as he leaned in and kissed you on the mouth—soft at first, almost sweet, like he was trying to shut you up gently. It didn’t last, the kiss deepening fast, his tongue sliding against yours until you were gripping his shirt tighter.

When he broke it, he was breathing harder, “yeah, I am. I don’t like watching you smile at someone else when I’m standing right there.”

You opened your mouth to tease him again, but he kissed you once more, firm, before you could get the words out.

“See?” He muttered against your lips, smirking, “try and be bratty if you want me to kiss you stupid.”

“Jake—” you started, voice already breathy.

He cut you off with another kiss, this one deeper, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours for a second.

“Keep going,” he chuckled, “tell me how ridiculous I’m being.”

You tried, you did, “you’re being ridiculous. Sunoo was just—”

Jake’s mouth was on your neck again, sucking a slow, wet mark right below your ear. You gasped, fingernails digging in his skin now. 

“Wrong name coming out of your pretty lips, baby, try again,” he murmured, kissing the fresh mark.

“You’re fucking jealous,” you managed to say despite his previous confirmation of the same. Maybe you wanted to hear it again, maybe you wanted to feel the conviction of truth behind those words, the reality of it all. 

He kissed your lips hard, swallowing the rest of your sentence, then moved back down to your neck, sucking another mark lower this time.

“Yeah,” he admitted yet again against your skin, “I hate it—hate how easy it was for him to make you laugh like that when it took me days.”

Your head tipped back against the door with a soft thud. He kept going—kissing, sucking, marking you up like he needed to claim every inch Sunoo had made you smile at. Every bratty little comment you tried to throw at him earned you another kiss on the mouth or a deeper suck on your neck until your legs were actually trembling.

Finally Jake straightened up, eyes hungry. Without a word he bent down, hooked his arms under your thighs, and lifted you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you the few steps to his bed and laid you down.

To have you so close to him was a maddening experience, words leaving his lips with ease, “you’re beautiful, you know that?” 

Somewhere between the bet and the reality, you started getting used to his blatant sincerity he put into words. But this praise? It made you sigh blissfully, eyelids fluttering close despite not wanting to be separated from the sight of Jake getting closer to where you needed him the most. 

He crawled over you, settling between your legs, and kissed you again—slow and deep this time.

“Still think I’m ridiculous?” He asked against your mouth, hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher.

You nodded, breathless, “very.”

Jake grinned, that same smug, jealous little smile, and kissed you once more before moving lower. He took his time with your neck again, sucking fresh marks while his hands worked your skirt up around your hips. When he reached the lace edge of your panties he paused, thumb brushing over the delicate fabric.

“These are pretty,” he murmured, hooking his fingers in them and slowly dragging them down your legs, tossing them aside somewhere, taking a note to pick it up later. 

Then he settled between your thighs properly, spreading them wider. He looked up at you, hair falling messily around his face from the small ponytail, eyes gleaming as he mumbled the praises of your beauty as if he was here to worship your being instead of what seemed to be a punishment for making him jealous. 

“Still got something smart to say?” He asked.

You opened your mouth, but the second his tongue dragged over you, slow and so perfectly warm—the words turned into a broken moan.

Jake groaned at the taste of you, the sound vibrating right against your clit. You reached down without thinking, fingers finding the hair tie at the back of his head. You pulled it out, letting his dark hair fall loose, then slid your hand into it and tugged hard.

Jake moaned louder against you, the vibration making your hips jerk.

“Fuck—do that again,” he breathed, voice wrecked. 

You did, tugging on his hair as he ate you out like he had all the time in the world—long, deep licks followed by quick flicks of his tongue that had your thighs shaking around his shoulders. Every pull on his hair earned you another low groan that went straight through you. 

“C’mon, tell me how it feels,” he spoke against you, and you groaned merrily. 

It’s not that you didn’t have any experience before, because you did. But never once a guy made you feel like they actually cared about getting you off rather than them chasing their own pleasure. Their flick of tongues did nothing, but Jake? He seemed like even having his whole face pressed against you wasn’t enough, as if nothing could satiate how desperate he was to have not a molecule of space between you two. 

A lot of things were in your mind, but you could only manage to choke out a few words, “so good—baby, it feels so good.”

If Jake hadn’t already lost his damn mind, your nickname certainly made him lose the last few of his working brain cells. The moan he let out was downright pornographic, and you could swear there wasn’t a sound prettier than that. 

You were completely gone, back arching off the bed, fingers tight in his hair, lost in the wet heat of his mouth and the smug little sounds he kept making against you. 

While you were wrapped up in this little bubble of unadulterated pleasure, outside the things were a bit different as Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon stood together, shaking their heads. 

“He really just dragged her straight to his room,” Jay muttered.

Heeseung sighed, “not even trying to be subtle anymore.”

Sunghoon smirked, “a hundred fucking pounds says they don’t come out for a while.”

Karina, standing with Jungwon near the couch, crossed her arms and muttered, “I knew something was gonna happen tonight.”

Jungwon just sighed, looking resigned, “this is exactly what I was worried about.”

Jaemin, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair with the biggest grin on his face, looking far too pleased with himself.

“This is even better than I planned.”

CHAPTER TEN: Bet versus feelings. 

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

The voice seemed to have echoed, because the same sentence was being uttered at the exact same second inside two different dorms, by two different people. 

First being Jungwon, clearly directed towards you once you were done giving your side of the story to him. 

Jake was undergoing the exact same procedure of questioning, causing Jay to scream in agony. 

Things were clearly going perfectly, Jake was in too deep, you were in too deep, all for the bet, right? Right? 

Because as far as acting was concerned, even it had limits, which certainly didn’t include getting eaten out and fingered all night. Cherry on the top was when you both fell asleep in each other’s arms with Jake caressing your back so gently, you learned the meaning of comfort in its truest scene. 

So, why did it feel so easy when Jake kissed you in the morning, when he walked you back home with ease, talking normally as if everything was fine. Your heart broke a little at the thought of him just using you, and trust was a delicate topic for you. How could you even let yourself think that he actually wanted you when the whole relationship of yours was built on a pathetic bet. Which is why, you let yourself fall in deeper, to feel more of his warmth before it ends.  

Before he could ask what was bothering you, a gentle kiss was placed on his lips, “bye, Jakey.” 

The simple fact that you initiated the kiss had Jake smiling like an idiot before you walked inside your dorm, and he left for his own, heart thumping fast, almost in a way that it was synchronized. 

And now you were here, eyes watering in front of your friends who could only pull you in a deep hug. 

“Y/N, just tell him, just end this I swear,” Jungwon mumbled, and you didn’t know what to say, so you resorted to hugging them both till you fell asleep again. 

Jake on the other hand—he couldn’t stop pacing around as the three watched him like a hawk, eyes moving in sync with every step he took across the living room.

Jay leaned back on the couch, arms crossed, looking way too smug, “I told you you’d fall for her.”

Jake stopped dead in his tracks, spinning around so fast he nearly tripped, “I didn’t fall. I’m not—fuck, okay maybe I did, but shut up.”

Sunghoon let out a loud laugh, slapping his knees “you dragged her into your room in front of everyone. You’re on your knees for her at this point.”

Heeseung was already cracking up, head thrown back, “the way you looked at Sunoo? Pure murder like, he didn’t even do shit.”

Jake groaned, running his fingers through his hair, “you guys are the worst. I was standing right there and she was laughing with him like it was the easiest thing in the world. I hate it.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, “you hate it? Or you’re jealous as hell?”

“Both,” Jake muttered, then dramatically dropped to his knees right in the middle of the living room, forehead hitting the floor with a thud, “I’m so fucked. What the hell is wrong with me?”

Jay let out a loud laugh, leaning forward on the couch, “wrong? It’s literally called love, Jake.”

“On your knees in the living room because a girl, you’re not yours by the way, smiled at someone else? Yeah, you’re fucked.” Sunghoon added helpfully. 

Heeseung clapped slowly, “soft boy Jake is real. We’re witnessing history.”

Jake stayed on the floor for a second, breathing hard, face pressed against the carpet. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying last night—the way you’d gasped his name when he had his mouth on you, the way your thighs had shaken around his shoulders. How he couldn’t stop staring at you even after you came down, all soft and sleepy in his bed, lashes resting against your cheeks, lips slightly parted. You looked so beautiful like that, relaxed and trusting, nothing guarded in your expression for once. He’d kissed your forehead then, slow and careful, while you dozed off against his chest. Later, when he still couldn’t sleep, he’d grabbed his diary and sketched you—just the curve of your cheek, the way your hair fell across the pillow, the small peaceful smile you had even in sleep. It wasn’t weird. It was just—you. He needed to remember exactly how it felt.

He groaned again, louder this time, “I’m so fucked.”

“So you’ve said.”

The boys kept teasing, but Jake was already thinking ahead.

He pushed himself up, hair a mess, cheeks still flushed, “whatever. Laugh all you want, I’m gonna ask her on a proper date.”

The room went quiet for half a second, observing him closely to find out any signs of humour or a joke. 

Jay blinked, “you’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Jake said, grabbing his glasses, “I’m serious.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, still amused but skeptical, “you sure that’s a good idea right now? Things are already messy as hell.”

Heeseung nodded slowly, “moving kinda fast, don’t you think?”

Jake just shrugged, the stupid smile creeping back onto his face, “I don’t care, I want to do it right.”

The problem now was that Jake had never planned a date before, heck he’d never even dated before. He knew that something grand wouldn’t work, not right now at least, so when he woke up the next day, he had a few errands to run. Thankfully, he had only one lecture, after which he found himself running around the campus with a list, more motivated thann he’d ever been. 

By late afternoon he found himself standing outside the biotech building, leaning against the wall near the main exit with his hands in his pockets. He knew your schedule by heart now. When you finally stepped out, backpack slung over one shoulder, he pushed off the wall and walked straight up to you.

You stopped, surprised, but the second he pulled you into a hug your expression softened. His arms wrapped around you tight, one hand rubbing your back like he needed the contact more than air, “hey,” he mumbled into your hair.

You smiled despite everything, pressing your face into his chest for a second, “Jake? What are you doing here? Don’t you have practice right now?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, hands still on your waist, “I skipped.”

“You skipped?” you asked, eyes widening a little.

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit awkward but determined. “I want to take you out right now, just us, if you’ll let me.”

Your heart skipped. He was being so boldly awkward about it, standing there in the middle of the hallway like skipping practice for you was the most normal decision in the world. 

You teased, trying to keep your voice light, “what if I say no?”

Jake’s face fell instantly, that hurt-puppy look laughed at you right in the heart—big eyes, slight pout, shoulders slumping just a little like you’d actually kicked his favorite ball into traffic. It was funny how you could compare him to puppies so often and he didn’t seem to mind. 

“Then—I guess I’ll go back to practice,” he said quietly, voice cracking at the end, “but you’re really gonna say no?”

You didn’t know what to say, skipping classes wasn’t really something you did, unless you were sick beyond your ability to stand, however, a small voice within you screamed, skipping once wouldn’t hurt, right? 

You reached out and took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, sending a shiver up his arm, “lead the way, Sim.”

Jake’s whole face lit up like you’d just handed him the world, and maybe you did. He squeezed your hand once, tight, and started walking, pulling you gently along with him.

You walked side by side across the quad, the late afternoon sun warm on your skin. His thumb kept brushing slow circles over your knuckles, and the simple touch felt so grounding, so comfortable. 

“Where are we going?” You asked after a minute, glancing up at him.

Jake grinned, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “It’s a secret.”

You raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips, “you’re really not gonna tell me anything?”

“Nope,” he said, voice light and playful, “just trust me, okay?”

From a distance near the science building, Heeseung stood watching the two of you with a small smile, “they’re already acting like a couple,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head fondly.

When you reached the parking lot, Jake stopped in front of a sleek black car you didn’t recognize.

You looked back at Jake, “wait—you drive?”

Jake grinned, a little cocky as he opened the passenger door for you, “yeah, borrowed it from Jay. Figured walking you around campus wasn’t gonna cut it today.”

You slid in, the leather seat cool against the back of your thighs. Jake got in on the driver’s side, started the engine, then turned to you, looking a little nervous but hopeful.

“So, uh, what’s your favourite flower?” He asked, voice casual but his fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel.

You raised your brow, surprised by the question, “Tulip, why?”

Jake let out a small, relieved breath. He reached into the backseat and pulled out three bouquets—a bright bunch of fresh tulips, a classic dozen roses, and a smaller mixed one with daisies and soft white flowers.

He handed them to you carefully, almost shy, “I wasn’t sure which ones you liked, so I got a few options. Just in case, thank god you chose one of those—”

You stared at the flowers in your lap, heart squeezing so hard it almost hurt. He had gone out and bought three different bouquets because he didn’t want to get it wrong, for you.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned across the console and kissed him midway through his nervous ramble. 

It was soft and grateful at first, but Jake melted instantly, one hand coming up to cup your cheek like he needed to hold onto the moment. When you pulled back, his eyes were a little dazed, lips parted, that stupid, lovestruck smile back on his face.

“God,” he whispered, thumb brushing your cheek, “you’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

You laughed softly, cheeks warm, and settled back into your seat with the bouquets still cradled in your lap. Jake grabbed your hand again, lacing your fingers together on the center console like he couldn’t stand not touching you.

He started driving, thumb still tracing slow circles over your knuckles, stealing little glances at you every few seconds like he still couldn’t believe you were here with him.

You were so fucked, and now, you didn’t even care. 

The drive was short, just ten minutes out of campus to a quiet spot by the river. You’d passed it a few times before, always packed with students on weekends, but on a weekday afternoon it was practically empty—just the soft rush of water, a few birds, and the warm sun filtering through the trees.

Jake parked and killed the engine, then turned to you with that soft smile you’d grown to love, “wait here.”

He got out, popped the trunk, and came around to your side with a big picnic basket and a folded blanket. You watched him spread the blanket on a sunny patch of grass near the water, setting everything out with careful hands. There were little sandwiches you liked, fresh fruit, the coconut berry Red Bull he knew you’d steal from him, and even a small box of those chocolate cookies you’d mentioned once in passing.

You stepped out of the car, flowers still in your arms, feeling suddenly shy that was very out of your character, “Jake—you did all this?”

He looked up at you from where he was kneeling on the blanket, eyes bright, “yeah. Figured we deserved something nice, just us.”

You sat down beside him, cheeks warm, and he basked in it—the way you ducked your head a little, fiddling with the edge of the blanket, the small smile you couldn’t hide. He loved seeing you like this, unguarded and a little flustered because of him.

The sun got brighter as the afternoon stretched on. After you’d eaten and talked about nothing and everything, Jake stretched out and laid his head in your lap, looking up at you with those pretty eyes. No big smile this time—just quiet, almost reverent.

You reached down, fingers finding the hair tie at the back of his head, and gently pulled it out. His dark hair fell loose around his face. You slid your hand into it, playing with the strands, slow and gentle.

Jake let out a contented sigh, eyes never leaving your face.

“You know I have a dog named Layla?” He said quietly after a while, voice warm.

You smiled down at him, still running your fingers through his hair, “yeah? Tell me about her.”

“She’s a Border Collie. Super hyper, loves chasing balls, but she’s the biggest cuddler when she’s tired. She always knows when I’m having a bad day and just—sits next to me until I feel better.”

You laughed softly, “she sounds perfect.”

He hummed, eyes soft, “she is.”

Time passed easily between you. The river flowed steadily nearby, birds chirped overhead, and the sun warmed your skin. Jake told you how he loved singing but almost never did it in front of people because it felt too embarrassing. You told him how you were terrified of roller coasters and how you liked cats because they were quiet and independent. He almost gasped when you admitted you loved horror movies, cause they scared Jake half to death.

“You ever scream at the screen?” He asked, grinning up at you.

“Never,” you admitted, “do you?”

“A lot,” he mumbled, and you chuckled—that sound becoming Jake’s favourite each passing second. 

Jake’s eyes stayed on your face the whole time, soft and full of something deep. He felt surreal having you like this—so close, so willing, so in love with the version of you that no one else really got to see. The way your fingers moved through his hair, the gentle way you looked down at him, it made his chest ache in the best way. It made no sense how you looked so fucking pretty even from that angle, so perfect. 

At one point he reached up, hand gentle on the back of your neck, and pulled you down for a soft kiss. It was slow, sweet, full of everything you both weren’t saying yet. You got goosebumps all over, your body reacting so perfectly to him, to the quiet love blooming between you.

When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he whispered, “I’m really glad you said yes.”

You kissed him again, softer this time, heart so full it almost hurt.

You could feel how down bad he was—the way his hand rested on your thigh like he needed the contact, the quiet reverence in his gaze every time he looked up at you, the small, content sighs he let out whenever your nails scratched lightly against his scalp. He didn’t say any of it out loud, he didn’t need to, really. It was all there in the way he looked at you.

After a while he sat up slowly, hair messy from your fingers, eyes soft and dark. Without a word he reached for you, hands gentle on your waist as he pulled you into his lap. You settled against him easily, knees on either side of his thighs, and he grabbed your chin with careful fingers, tilting your face down to his.

The kiss was soft at first, full of everything that had been building between you all afternoon. His lips moved against yours like he had all the time in the world, thumb brushing your jaw in the gentlest way.

When he pulled back he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight against his chest. You held him just as tightly, arms looped around his neck, face buried in the crook of his shoulder. You didn’t want this to end, not the warmth of him, not the steady beat of his heart against yours, not the way he made the rest of the world feel so far away.

Jake pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, slow and lingering. You whispered his name, soft and breathless, “Jake—”

He smiled against your skin, the curve of his lips warm and pleased. Then he licked over the same spot, and your breath hitched.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, cheeks warm, “you’re terrible,” you complained, but there was no real heat in it.

Jake’s eyes sparkled with that smug little glint. Before you could say anything else he pulled you back down into a deeper kiss, filled with everything he felt—the want, the softness, the quiet desperation of someone who was completely, utterly, helplessly in love with you. His hand slid into your hair, the other pressed against your lower back, holding you close as the kiss turned slow and emotional, tongues brushing, breaths mingling, hearts beating in the same unsteady rhythm.

You melted into it, fingers curling into his shirt, losing yourself in the way he kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Foggy façade.

It was the third time Jake had rerouted the car to go away from the campus, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, a pout on his plump lips as you pointed out that he was, in fact, not willing to take you home. 

“I just don’t want the day to end, is that so bad?” He spoke so freely and you wondered how he got the confidence to say things like that without sounding ridiculous, his hand stayed laced with yours on the console. 

“You’re literally driving in circles,” you said, squeezing his fingers, “we’ve passed that same coffee shop twice now.”

Jake glanced over at you, eyes bright even in the fading light, “worth it. Every single time I look at you I forget where I’m supposed to be going.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave you away completely, “smooth talker. Take me home, Sim, I have an assignment due tomorrow.”

He made a dramatic whining sound, slowing the car at a red light, “one more hour. Please? I’ll be good. I’ll even let you pick the music.”

You laughed, leaning your head back against the seat, even though you couldn’t deny it yourself, you didn’t wish to go back, “you’re impossible.”

The light turned green and instead of turning toward campus he took another random right, the river still sparkling in the distance behind you. You narrowed your eyes at him, “Jake.”

“What?” He asked innocently, but the grin tugging at his mouth was anything but, “I’m just—taking the scenic route.”

You were still bickering lightly when he suddenly pulled off the main road into a quiet, tree-lined side street and parked under the shade of an old oak. The engine cut off. For a second the only sound was the soft tick of the cooling car and your own heartbeat.

“Jake,” you said again, softer this time.

He turned to you fully, eyes dark and a little desperate, “I can’t stand not kissing you for one more second.”

Before you could even tease him about it, he was leaning across the console, one hand sliding into your hair as his mouth crashed into yours. The kiss was messy and urgent, like he’d been holding back the whole drive. You kissed him back just as hard, fingers curling into his shirt, the taste of the picnic strawberries still lingering on his tongue.

“Backseat,” he mumbled against your lips, already fumbling with both your seatbelts, “c’mon, baby.”

You laughed breathlessly into the kiss, “Jay’s gonna actually murder you if he finds out what we’re doing in his car.”

“Let him,” Jake grinned, nipping at your bottom lip before climbing over the console in that surprisingly smooth way he had. He tugged you with him and you tumbled into the backseat together, legs tangling, laughter bubbling up between more kisses, “totally worth getting murdered for.”

You ended up straddling his lap, your jeans rubbing against the front of his as his hands gripped your waist tight. The humping started almost immediately—slow rolls of your hips that had you both groaning at the friction. Denim on denim felt stupidly good, the thick seam of your jeans pressing right against your core every time you rocked forward.

“Fuck,” Jake breathed, head falling back against the seat as you ground down harder, “even through the jeans you feel incredible.”

You leaned down, kissing him again while you kept moving, slow and teasing,  “you’re so impatient, Jakey,” you murmured against his mouth, smiling when he chased your lips.

“Can you blame me?” He bucked up to meet you, hands sliding under your top to grip your bare waist, “been hard since the river. Watching you play with my hair, looking so fucking pretty, I couldn’t help it.”

The laughter died down into heavier breaths and soft moans, and you fucking loved how vocal Jake was. You kept rolling your hips in lazy circles, feeling how hard and thick he was beneath you. Jake’s hands roamed higher, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts, and every little sound he made went straight to your core.

Eventually you slid lower, kissing down his neck, then his chest, until you were kneeling between his legs in the cramped backseat. Your hands worked open his belt and jeans, and when you pulled him out, his cock was so big and thick it made your mouth water.

Jake let out a shaky breath, fingers gently threading into your hair, “baby, you really don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you said, looking up at him. You nuzzled your cheek against the heavy length first, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along it, feeling it twitch against your skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, low and wrecked. “Look at you—nuzzling my cock like that. So pretty.”

You licked a slow stripe from base to tip, then took the head into your mouth, sucking gently. Jake’s groan was loud, head tipping back against the seat.

“Shit—yeah, just like that,” he panted, fingers tightening in your hair but never pushing, “you look so fucking good with your lips around me.”

You took him deeper, tongue swirling every time you pulled back. He was so thick it stretched your mouth perfectly, and you loved the way he filled you.

“Jaeyun,” you moaned around him, the name slipping out soft and needy.

Jake’s whole body jerked hard, “fuck—say it again,” he groaned, voice breaking, “god, I love when you call me that. Say it again, baby, please.”

“Jaeyun,” you whispered, taking him even deeper, eyes watering a little as you looked up at him through your lashes.

He let out a wrecked sound, hips twitching up just slightly before he caught himself. His fingers tightened in your hair, not pulling, just holding on like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, the way his thighs tensed every time you hollowed your cheeks.

But then his hand slid down to your shoulder, gentle but urgent, “come here,” he breathed, voice rough, “I need you closer.”

You pulled off with a soft pop, lips shiny, and he didn’t waste a secon—he tugged you up into his lap again, hands already working your jeans open. You shoved his jeans down further, wrapping your hand around his cock, stroking him slow and tight while he pushed two fingers into you without warning. The stretch made you gasp, forehead dropping to his shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he muttered against your neck, curling his fingers just right, “all this for me?”

You nodded, breath hitching as you kept stroking him, thumb swiping over the head on every upstroke. The car was getting warmer, windows starting to fog, the cramped backseat making everything feel even more intense—elbows bumping seats, knees knocking, but neither of you cared. You rocked into his hand while he fucked you with his fingers, messy and uncoordinated and perfect.

Jake’s mouth found your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You moaned, head tilting to give him more space, and he took it, kissing, licking, biting down gently before soothing the spot with his tongue. Another mark right below your ear, then one on your collarbone. He was claiming you in the quietest way possible, and it made your stomach flip.

His fingers sped up, thumb pressing against your clit, and you squeezed him tighter in response, stroking faster.

“You feel so good,” he panted, voice low and broken against your skin, “I—I can’t even think straight when you’re like this. I think I lo—”

You cut him off with a kiss, hard and desperate, swallowing whatever he was about to say. Your heart was hammering too loud, the guilt and the want twisting together until it hurt. You weren’t ready, not yet. Not when everything still felt like it was built on something you couldn’t admit out loud.

Jake groaned into your mouth, kissing you back like he understood anyway, fingers still moving inside you, thumb circling faster. You kept stroking him, messy and slick, both of you breathing hard between kisses, bodies pressed so close you could feel his heartbeat against yours.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on yours, eyes dark and glassy, “you’re everything,” he whispered instead, the words thick, “don’t stop, baby.”

You didn’t, kissing him again, slower this time, the act so devastatingly soft, your bodies couldn’t help but react by reaching the peak of unadulterated pleasure you both provided each other with, messy and desperate, but none of you cared in the moment, enjoying the bliss of it all. 

Letting the mess of feelings stay buried under the heat of his mouth.

CHAPTER TWELVE: The forgotten bet

You didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, and somehow hiding in the library was the best you could do to get away from everything you wanted to be close to. Choosing a seat which you normally didn’t opt for was even worse, and the notes in front of you seemed to be in an entirely different language when your mind was elsewhere. 

But someone had this weird idea about the whereabouts of practically everyone in the campus, which is why Jaemin found you sulking in a corner, his smile as bright as ever as invited himself to sit next to you. 

“Bet not going too well, I presume,” he started, breaking your train of thoughts. 

That shit eating grin on his face infuriated more, and there was nothing more you wished to do than punch him at the given moment. 

“What the fuck do you want?” You snapped, not even bothering to look up from the notes that might as well have been written in ancient Greek.

“Relax,” he said, leaning back like he had all day, “I come in peace. Just checking in on my favorite partner in crime.”

You finally glanced at him, jaw tight, “there’s no bet anymore. So, you can leave.”

Jaemin laughed under his breath, spinning one of your pens between his fingers, “sure looks like there is to me. I saw you two at the party,  the way he dragged you into his room right in front of everyone. Then yesterday? Jay’s car parked on that quiet street for almost an hour, windows completely fogged up. Jake came back to the dorm looking like he’d just won the lottery. He’s been skipping practice, smiling at nothing, telling the guys he’s taking you on a date again very soon. He’s in deep, Y/N. Like, actually gone.”

Your stomach twisted. Of course he knew. Jaemin always knew everything that happened on campus.

He leaned in a little, voice dropping but still smug, “you’ve got him right where you want him. One more good date, a couple more nights like yesterday, and he’s gonna say it. The whole i’m in love with you speech. Then you reject him, take the Paris trip, and we both win. Easy.”

You stared at him, chest tight, “you’re actually serious right now.”

“Dead serious,” he said, grin still firmly in place. “This was your plan too, remember? Make him fall hard, then crush him. Don’t go soft on me just because he bought you three bouquets and looked at you with those puppy eyes. You’re winning. Don’t fuck it up now.”

He stood up slowly, tapping the table once with his knuckle, “think about it. He’s already forgetting the car even exists. Finish the job before it gets too messy.”

Jaemin walked off without another word, even though you did scream your answer, garnering the attention of students who weren’t pleased about it.  But yes, he did leave you alone with the heavy knot in your chest and the notes you still couldn’t read.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Too good to be true 

This wasn’t the plan. 

Sitting in the bleachers, supporting Jake, clad in this jacket as if you were his girlfriend. To make things worse, Jake absolutely preened in showing you off, not one care about embarrassment, not when he was the one who had insisted you wear it before the game even started. 

“Looks better on you than it does on me,” he’d said with that easy grin, tugging the collar straight and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead right there on the sidelines where half the team could see. You’d rolled your eyes at the time, but now, with his name printed across the back in bold white letters, you felt the weight of every curious glance from the crowd.

The game was loud to say the least, Jungwon and Karina agreed, but they also silently agreed that your happiness came first, and at the moment, you looked really happy. Jake was everywhere—stealing the ball with sharp precision, setting up plays that made the stands roar, running like the field belonged to him alone. Every few minutes his eyes would flick up to the bleachers, searching until they landed on you. The second they did, his whole face would change. That bright, boyish smile would break through the concentration, and he’d give you this tiny, secret nod like you two were the only ones who understood what it meant.

“I’m not doing it,” you whispered to yourself. 

Jungwon only smiled, “we know—we’ve always known.”

You turned to look at him, “how?” Somehow the question itself made you seem small, especially the possibility of Jake finding out and losing trust in you—seemed way worse. 

“You try to act all tough, but we know how soft you are,” Karina spoke softly. 

“And with Jake? There was no way we didn’t see this coming, you really can’t fool us,” Jungwon added with a dimpled smile, making you chuckle despite the breakdown you were going to have. 

You didn’t realize how heavy the bet felt till you got it off of your chest, eyes watery as you turned to look at Jake in his element yet again, watching how he moved with ease under the burden of the timer ticking. But Jake was really good at what he did, kicking the ball straight into the net as it curled around in the corner left just as the whistle blew in the background. 

You didn’t even realize you were screaming until your own voice hit your ears. You shot up fully, hands in the air, cheering so loud your throat hurt. “Yes, Jake! Go!” The words just flew out of you, completely unfiltered. Jungwon and Karina were jumping beside you, all three of you yelling like idiots. 

Jake didn’t celebrate with his teammates. He broke away from the pile and ran straight for the stands, jumping the barrier in one smooth motion, and before you could even catch your breath he was right there in front of you, chest heaving, that huge, bright grin on his face.

He grabbed your waist with both hands and spun you around once, fast. Your feet left the ground, the roar of the crowd blurring into one big cheer.

“Jake!” You squeaked, laughing but instantly embarrassed as people around you whistled and shouted, “put me down—everyone’s watching—”

He didn’t listen. He spun you one more time, slower this time, eyes locked on yours like the rest of the stadium had disappeared. “Let them watch,” he said, still grinning like an idiot, “I scored that goal thinking about you, I want them to know it.”

When he finally set you back on your feet he didn’t step back. He cupped your face with both hands and kissed you right there in front of everyone—deep, a little messy, his jersey was damp with sweat, his heart still hammering against yours, but the kiss felt steady. 

Your face burned hot the second his lips touched yours. You could feel hundreds of eyes on you, phones probably out, people cheering and laughing, but Jake didn’t care at all. He kissed you like the crowd wasn’t even there, like this was the only thing that mattered.

When he finally pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on yours, he was breathing hard, eyes shining, “I—I, uh,” he tried to find words, but with you looking at him so sweetly, he just melted, “you’re my good luck charm.”

And gosh, you smiled, pecking him softly, reciprocating the exact feelings he’d been harbouring towards you. His teammates were yelling his name from the field, and so he left with a promise to be back soon. 

It’s normal for any sane person to get scared when things feel too good to be true, exactly how they felt for you and Jake, so the flicker of worry didn’t go unnoticed by Jake after the whole team came out. When they came out of the locker rooms, hair damp and smelling like fresh soap, Jake made a face at the idea of the big victory party happening across campus.

He glanced at you, really looked at you for a second, and caught the tiny flicker of worry that crossed your face, clearing his throat, “guys, I’m tired, let’s just go to the dorm and get some food and drinks ordered in.” 

Jake looked down at you again, voice softer just for you, “that cool? We can keep it small.”

You managed a small smile and nodded, “yeah. That sounds perfect, actually.”

He smiled back, the kind of relieved, soft smile that made your chest feel a little lighter, and pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head, “good, let’s go home then.”

Jaemin, who had wandered over to join the group at some point, grinned wide. Jeno, standing a step behind him, shot Jaemin a sharp look and shook his head once, trying to warn him without saying anything out loud. Jaemin just smirked and ignored him completely.

Jake didn’t notice. He was too busy lacing his fingers with yours again, already tugging you gently toward the dorms. It was new to you, the feeling of being held in someone’s arms—in front of everyone, as if the concept of personal space was foreign to Jake, but did you actually want him to let go of you? Absolutely not, even if you won’t admit it out loud. 

Jake hadn’t let go of you once. He kept you tucked right against his side on the couch, one arm looped around your shoulders, fingers tracing lazy little patterns on your arm like he couldn’t stop touching you. Every few minutes he’d lean in and press a soft kiss to your temple or the top of your head or the corner of your mouth, completely unbothered by the others being right there.

Was it really that easy to fall in so deep for someone within a month? Take yourself for example, wrapped up in Jake’s embrace, it certainly did seem true to some extent. 

“You okay? You’ve been quiet since we got back, was I too much?” He asked, thumb brushing the side of your neck, a worried pout on his face. 

You shook your head just a bit, “I’m just happy, you did so well out there, Jakey.”

He sighed with happiness, all worries gone in a second, “couldn’t have done it without you.”

Sunghoon groaned loudly, “dude, you’re so gone it’s painful to watch.”

Jake laughed, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, “leave me alone, man. I earned this.”

You were about to tease him back when the door swung open.

Jaemin strolled in with Jeno beside him, grabbing a slice of pizza from the nearest box and dropping onto the arm of the couch across from you, taking a big bite. His eyes flicked over the scene—Jake’s arm still wrapped around you, the way Jake was still leaning into you like he couldn’t get close enough. Jaemin’s grin sharpened.

“Damn, look at you two,” he said casually, chewing, “still going strong, huh? So Jake, did you finally drop the L-word on her yet? Cause you have two days left till the bet ends.”

You stilled, staring at Jaemin with wide eyes, just like everyone else in the room. Jeno groaned at the back cause he did try to stop Jaem, but to no avail. But it was almost as if he couldn’t pick up context cues, and so he continued, “you told her about it right? Since you’re smitten now, that’s why you’re together, right?” 

“Jaemin,” Jake warned him, his hold tightening on you, “shut the fuck up.”

Jungwon and Karina were ready to take you back, almost jumping to their feet, but that’s not where Jaem stopped. Jungwon was already shifting closer on the couch until his knee pressed against yours, one hand resting lightly on your arm like he was ready to pull you out of there the second you needed it.

“What? You didn’t tell her?” He smirked, now staring right at you, “well, too fucking bad cause she already fucking knows you’re playing her for a car,” he smirked, leaning back against the couch, finally letting the drama unfold. 

Your chest tightened so hard it hurt to breathe. You felt the heat rush to your face, then drain away just as fast, leaving you cold. Jay was staring at the floor like it had answers. Heeseung’s hand froze around his beer. Sunghoon looked like he wanted to sink into the cushions. Karina’s eyes were wide, looking at you knowing exactly how you felt right now—especially after the nights you cried with her. Jungwon’s fingers tightened on your arm because of the same. 

Of course his friends had known the whole time.

You pulled away from Jake’s arm slowly, like your body was moving through water. The walls you’d been trying so hard to keep down slammed back up, higher than before. You felt small, exposed, stupid even. Like every soft kiss, every my girl, every time he looked at you like you mattered had been watched and laughed at behind your back.

You stood up, “I knew it the whole time,” you confessed, observing just how panicked he seemed at the moment, “Jaemin told me everything at the very beginning—how you just bet on my feelings for his car,” you tried to stop yourself from getting emotional, letting a shaky breath out as Jake’s shaking hand held on to yours, “so he asked me to do the same, to show you how it hurts to play with someone’s emotions.” 

His face went pale, and even though he opened his mouth, no words came out, just throbbing pain in his heart, and eyes wide as if he’d gotten punched in the gut. 

Maybe him accepting it would’ve made it better, but for Jake, there wasn’t an option between fight or flight, only freezing on the spot. Everyone stayed silent, watching it unfold and Jay tried to shake Jake’s shoulders, but all he could see was your trust crumpling, and his heart breaking. 

“You—you don’t actually like me?” He asked, voice breaking. 

“I do—I fucking do,” your voice cracked as well, “going through with the bet was not my intention, but what about you, Jake?”

Jake’s hand, still reaching for yours, started to tremble. His mouth opened again, but nothing came out. The guilt on his face was so raw it made your stomach turn. He looked hurt—really hurt, and you weren’t sure how to feel anymore, the hypocrisy of it all sinking in deeper, making everything worse. You’d planned to use him too, you were no better. The walls around you shot up even higher at the absence of words, of reassurance. 

So you asked again, “Jake, was any of it real?” 

Jake finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper, broken, “you—you knew the whole time?”

You nodded, a tear cascaded down the curve of your cheek freely, “yeah. I knew.”

He let out a shaky breath, like the words physically hurt him, “and you still—you let me fall for you anyway? You let me get this deep even though you knew I started it for a stupid bet? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The rise in his voice almost made you laugh, “so now you’re hurt cause I knew? After you started the whole thing for a car? That’s rich, Jake.”

Jungwon stood up right beside you, shoulder brushing yours, protective, “Y/N, you don’t have to explain anything else to him, not right now.”

“No, no—Jake just fucking tell me, is it real?” You waited for an answer, to get absolute silence in return, “Jake?” 

You tried for the last time, just to find tears streaming down his flushed face, but nothing came out of his mouth. He was too in his head, cursing himself, cursing Jaeming for letting it happen, but you? How could he ever hate you? 

Wiping your tears roughly, you let Karina embrace you, who kept glaring at all the boys. It wasn’t awkward for them, they felt guilty too, but knew better than to speak up in between them. 

You stepped back, “fine then—I’m done, we’re done. Don’t follow me, don’t text me. Just stay the hell away from me.”

You turned toward the door. Jake shot up after you, voice cracking, “Y/N, wait—please, just let me explain—”

“Don’t,” you snapped, not turning around.

Karina was already grabbing your jacket, “c’mon, let’s get out of here.”

Jungwon stayed right at your side until you reached the door, then spun around, glaring at Jay, “you should’ve stopped him, you knew what he was doing from the start. You let him play with her feelings like it was nothing. What the fuck, Jay?”

Jay looked wrecked, never expecting Jungwon to get angry, “I tried, man. I told him it was fucked up—”

“You all knew!” Jungwon’s voice rose, “every single one of you sat there and watched her fall and didn’t say a word. That’s fucked up—you couldn’t reassure her after she told you everything, huh, Jake?”

You didn’t wait to hear more, stepping into the hallway, Karina right behind you, her hand gentle on your back,“I’ve got you,” she whispered, “just breathe, okay?”

Behind the closed door, it only got worse, Jungwon’s voice only got louder as Jay tried to explain himself.

As the boys gathered to calm down Jungwon, they completely missed the way Jake got up and headed towards Jaemin. Only the sound of a loud crash got their attention—Jake’s fist connecting with Jaemin’s jaw. 

“You fucking asshole,” Jake snarled, his voice raw and broken. Another punch landed, his knuckles splitting open against Jaemin’s cheekbone. Blood smeared across his hand and dripped onto the floor. Heeseung and Sunghoon tried to pull him back, but Jake was swinging again, tears streaming down his face as he cried freely, angry and devastated all at once.

“Fucking get off me!” He shouted, his voice cracking between sobs, "this is your fault—all of it! You ruined everything!”

Furniture scraped against the floor. Someone yelled for them to stop, but it fell deaf to Jake’s ears. He kept swinging, his knuckles bleeding worse with every punch, tears falling fast down his cheeks, until Heeseung and Sunghoon finally managed to drag him back, both of them breathing hard.

Jaemin didn’t care much, he looked rather amused at the situation as Jeno tried to pull him up in furious whispers of urging him to stop being messy. 

Jake stood there in the middle of the mess, shoulders shaking, blood on his hands and tears still streaming from his bloodshot eyes. He looked completely destroyed.

And you? You didn’t look back.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Salvation

So maybe you did jinx yourself for thinking everything was perfect. However, it made no sense to you, or to anyone for that matter. You weren’t an expert about feelings by any means, yet it was clear to anyone with working eyes that whatever you and Jake had was far from fake. 

Why couldn’t he say it? 

You knew the stakes, you came clean to him, and god knows you couldn’t be mad at him for telling you that it, in fact, started off because of a bit. But the silence hurt. 

“I love him,” you whispered, and Karina hugged you tighter at how raw the confession sounded. 

“I know,” she mumbled, “it’s okay, it’ll be okay.”

You stayed quiet for a while, letting her hold you. The numbness had settled deep, leaving you strangely serene even as your heart ached. There were no more tears left. Just this heavy, enthralling ache that refused to let go.

Karina eventually pulled back and brushed a strand of hair from your face, “I’m gonna make you some tea, okay? I’ll be right back, yeah?”

You nodded mutely and watched her head to the small kitchenette. The soft clink of the kettle and mugs filled the room as you sat there on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. 

Karina was busy with the kettle as a knock came at the door, making her pause her ministrations. She walked over and opened the door just a crack, hoping it’d be Jungwon.

It was Jake.

He looked utterly destroyed. His eyes were bloodshot and had started to swell from crying, cheeks still damp with fresh tears. His knuckles were split open and bleeding, dark red smeared across his hand and the sleeve of his hoodie. He was breathing hard, like he’d run the entire way here without stopping.

Karina’s eyes widened in horror, “Jake—what the hell happened to your hands?”

He didn’t even look at her. His gaze was fixed past her shoulder, desperately searching for you, “please,” he said, his voice hoarse and broken. Without waiting, he slowly lowered himself to his knees right there in the hallway, bloody hands clasped in front of him, “please, Karina, just let me talk to her. I need her to know it was real, I’m begging you.”

Karina stood frozen for a long moment, clearly torn. She glanced back at you, then down at Jake kneeling on the floor, tears still slipping down his face, knuckles dripping blood onto the tiles.

She let out a heavy, reluctant sigh.

“I—come in,” she said quietly, stepping aside, “but if you make this any worse, I swear to God, Jake—”

Jake didn’t even stand up right away. He stayed on his knees for another heartbeat, bloody hands still clasped like he was praying, before he pushed himself up on shaky legs. God, his eyes—they were red-rimmed and glassy, the golden-boy sparkle completely shattered. He looked like he’d been run over by a truck and then backed over again for good measure.

Karina shot you one last warning glance before she slipped into the kitchenette, muttering something about giving you two five minutes and that she’d be right there with a knife if needed. The door to your room clicked shut behind her, leaving nothing but the sound of Jake’s ragged breathing and the faint drip of blood onto your floor.

You stayed rooted on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped tight around your middle like you could physically hold yourself together. Your heart was hammering so hard it hurt. A part of you wanted to scream at him to get the fuck out. The other part—the stupid, traitorous part that had fallen anyway—ached at the sight of him like this.

You swallowed hard, voice coming out sharper than you meant, “what the hell are you doing here, Jake? What now?”

Jake ran a shaky hand through his hair, smearing a thin streak of blood across his forehead, “I don’t know,” he groaned, “I really fucking don’t. You said all that shit after the game and I just—I just froze, okay? I punched Jaemin so hard I think I broke something, and it still didn’t make me feel better. Nothing did.”

You looked away, “so you came here?” 

“Yeah, I came here,” his voice was rough, frustrated. He took another step closer, boots scuffing the floor, “what else was I supposed to do? You just walked off, were my actions not enough for you, huh? I sat in my room staring at the wall like an idiot for an hour.”

You let out a sharp laugh, finally looking at him again, “oh, poor you. Must’ve been real hard.”

“Don’t,” he warned, “don’t do that. You told me you knew everything and you fell anyway. And then you just—left. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

You stood up fast, arms dropping to your sides, “what did you expect? A hug? You started this whole thing. You came after me for a bet. I only played along to fuck you over and now look at us. I’m the dumbass who actually caught feelings, while you couldn’t even admit it in front of your friends.”

Jake’s jaw clenched so hard you saw the muscle jump, “I broke the bet off before the date, Y/N. Before I even took you out. That morning I told Jaemin I was done with the whole thing. He was just stirring shit tonight to fuck with both of us.”

You stared at him, the words hitting like a slap, “you—you what?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I ended it days ago. Because it wasn’t a game anymore, not for me. But you still think I was using you the whole time, don’t you?”

Your hands started shaking, “then why the fuck didn’t you tell me? You let me keep thinking it was all fake while I was falling for you like an idiot? While I was lying to my friends and to myself?”

“Because I was terrified!” His voice cracked, louder now, “I knew the second I said it out loud you’d look at me like this—like I’m the enemy. I didn’t want to lose you and I still fucking don’t. I’m in love with you, okay? Not for the bet or the stupid car.”

You shoved at his chest, hard, but your fingers stayed twisted in his hoodie at the confession. He loves you, and he was never once hesitant to show it till now, “you’re such a fucking coward, Jake.”

“I know,” he breathed, eyes glassy as he pressed closer, forehead almost touching yours, “I’m the biggest coward on campus. But I’m yours if you still want me.”

You yanked him down by the hoodie and pulled him into a deep kiss as Jake groaned into your mouth, hands sliding under your shirt, bloody knuckles rough against your skin, and you could taste the saltiness of his tears on his lips. 

“I love you,” he gasped right against your lips, the words spilling out shaky between kisses, “fuck, I love you—”

You whined into his mouth at how freely he said it now. Jake had always been truthful to his feelings, while you’d been insecure, which is why you couldn’t do much but kiss him back, hoping that it’ll show how you reciprocate the feelings. 

The sharp tang of blood hit your tongue when his injured knuckle brushed your jaw. You pulled back, breathing hard, eyes dropping to his right hand. Only that one knuckle was split open, still seeping a thin line of red.

“Jake,” you muttered, fingers wrapping around his wrist gently and turning it over, “you’re still bleeding.”

He tried to pull you back in, eyes dark and hazy, “don’t care—”

“I do.” You slid off his lap before he could argue, legs a little unsteady as you crossed to the shelf by your desk. Your hands shook slightly when you grabbed the antiseptic wipes, a small tube of ointment, and a strip of gauze. When you turned back he was still sitting on the edge of the bed exactly where you’d left him, watching you with this raw, open look that made your stomach twist in the deepest way—cause gosh, he looked beautiful.

You knelt between his thighs again and took his injured hand. The wipe stung when you pressed it to the cut. Jake hissed softly through his teeth but didn’t pull away. He just stared at your face like the sight of you taking care of him was something he couldn’t quite believe was real.

“You’re really doing this right now,” he said quietly. 

“Someone has to,” you whispered, dabbing the blood away carefully, then smoothing ointment over the split skin. Every small touch felt heavier than it should—the faint tremble in his fingers, the way your own heartbeat was slamming so hard against your ribs it felt like it was echoing in your throat. You wrapped the gauze around his knuckle slowly, and the quiet intimacy of it settled somewhere deep in your chest, warm and aching and terrifying all at once.

When you finished he caught your face with both hands and pulled you up into another kiss as if pouring every ounce of emotions he’d ever felt towards you, his lips slotting perfectly against yours, a bit messy with how reverent he was. He even wish to breathe anymore, just accepting the warmth of your mouth as a way to live. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed against your mouth again, the words vibrating through you, “god, I love you so much it feels like it’s in my bones. Like every time I touch you I remember how close I came to losing this.”

You climbed back into his lap, straddling him, and kissed him harder, hips rolling once against the obvious hardness straining in his sweatpants. The friction made you both moan softly. His bandaged hand slid up your back under your shirt, palm warm against your spine, while the other cupped the back of your neck like he was scared you’d pull away.

He broke the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing ragged. His eyes were glassy, voice cracking when he spoke.

“Do you actually want me?” He whispered, lips brushing yours with every word, “not because we’re both fucked up right now. Just—tell me, if not i’ll just stop. Say it against my mouth, pleasw, I need to hear it.”

Your heart felt too big for your chest, a heavy, aching throb that matched the pulse between your legs. You leaned in until your lips touched his with every syllable.

“I want you,” you breathed right against him, “I want you so fucking bad, Jake. Just you—all of you.”

The second the words left your mouth you grabbed his bandaged right hand and pressed his palm flat to the center of your chest, right over your racing heart. His fingers spread wide, the gauze rough and warm against your skin, and Jake let out this low, broken groan that vibrated straight through you.

“Fuck—baby,” he rasped, eyes fluttering like he was barely holding it together, “for me?”

You’d seen how Jake got during intimate moments, but the way he was acting right now—breathing hard against your skin, you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to handle without confessing all your feelings for the pretty boy in front of you. The fact that he came running so soon, that he wished to clear things up, it was enough. Staying mad at him wasn’t ever a choice when every single cell within you yearned for him. 

“For you,” you whispered gently, eyes never leaving his face. 

He looked stunning to say the least, perhaps the prettiest crier you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. His face was flushed, this beautiful shade of red gracing it, and you couldn’t help but trace your thumb over his swollen lip, “you’re so pretty,” you whispered without thinking twice.   

In one smooth motion he flipped you both, laying you down on the bed and settling between your thighs, his body pressing you into the mattress. The sudden weight of him, the heat rolling off his skin, the way his pendant swung forward and rested cool against your clavicle—it made you shiver. You looked down and saw it, your initials, small and delicate on the silver chain around his neck, nestled right there against your skin.

A soft, involuntary moan slipped out of you.

Jake’s breath hitched hard against your neck, “you see it, baby?” He whispered, his lips—so fucking soft and plush, brushed your throat as he spoke, “got it the next day after our date, been wearing it since.”

“You’re crazy,” you managed to say, but your eyes were shining just as bright as his own, his usual smile stretching, making your heart race faster than usual. 

The proximity was maddening. His chest pressed flush to yours, heart hammering so hard you could feel it through his ribs. The heat of his body soaked into every inch of you, his breath hot and ragged on your neck. He took his time to take your scent in, shamelessly so, doing exactly what he couldn’t when he first talked to you, and swore he was rather drunk on it. 

He buried his face deeper into the curve of your neck and inhaled again, slow and shaky, like he was trying to memorize you, “fuck—wanted to do this when I first met you,” he mumbled, lips dragging along your pulse point, open-mouthed and wet.

You shivered hard, fingers sliding up into his hair and tugging lightly, “then stop holding back now, Jake. Touch me.”

He groaned, “yeah? You want that?” His bandaged hand slipped under your shirt, palm hot and trembling as it cupped your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple until it tightened, “like this? Tell me if it’s good, baby. I need to hear you.”

“Feels so good,” you breathed, arching into his touch, “don’t be gentle. I want to feel how bad you want me.”

“Fuck,” he rasped, voice cracking, “I’m gonna show you how sorry I am. Gonna make you feel it with every fucking inch of me until you know I’m yours.” He pushed your shirt higher, mouth following right behind, kissing and sucking down your chest like he was starving, “god, look at you—so fucking pretty under me. Can I take this off? I need to see all of you, baby. Please?”

You nodded fast, lifting your arms. He peeled your shirt off and tossed it aside, then just stared, chest rising fast, “fuck—these tits. Been thinking about them every night.” His mouth latched onto one nipple, plush lips sucking slow and deep while his hand palmed the other one, thumb teasing the peak until you were squirming.

“Jaeyun—shit, that feels so good,” you moaned, back arching.

“Yeah? You like my mouth here?” he asked, switching sides, tongue swirling lazy circles. “Tell me, baby. I need to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“So good,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair, “don’t stop.”

“Won’t stop,” he sighed in pleasure, sucking harder as his teeth grazed just enough to make you gasp, the pendant dragging cool over your skin with every move of his head. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. You pushed at his shoulders and flipped you both again, straddling his hips, grinding down slow and filthy against the hard line of his cock through his pants.

Jake’s eyes rolled back, a wrecked groan tearing out of him, “Jesus Christ—yeah, keep going, pretty.”

You leaned down, hair falling around both of you, and kissed him deep, tongue sliding against his, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist, as if no amount of kissing could satiate his hunger. 

You pulled back just enough to look at him, lips still brushing and his eyes were blown wide, chest heaving under you. Holding his gaze, you gathered spit in your mouth, and let it drip slowly right onto his waiting tongue.

Jake’s whole body jerked hard beneath you. A wrecked, filthy moan tore out of his throat as the warm spit landed on his tongue. He didn’t even hesitate before swallowing it down with a shaky groan, then leaned right up and licked into your mouth like he was chasing the taste of you, tongue sliding against yours again, ever so messy and eager.

The absolute joy of being here, so free and filthy with Jake despite everything, had you getting freakier by second knowing damn well how Jake would be thrilled, and he did. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with himself if you didn’t accept his apology, or if you’d admit that it was a game to you. But seeing neither was the case, he had to take the next step—to show exactly how much he wanted you. 

“So dirty for me, huh?” He smirked, sucking on your tongue, “fucking perfect, you’re mine, yeah? Made for me.”

“Getting possessive already?” You chuckled deeply, licking up his neck, nibbling on his earlobe, confidence boosting by second at the sight of him shivering with your ministrations, “you like it when I spit in that pretty mouth of yours, Jake? 

He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, gentle but playful, giving it a light pull before letting it go with a soft pop, “like it?” He murmured, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief even now, “darling, I fucking love it. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to be this comfortable with me—this filthy.”

You grinned, rolling your hips down against the hard line of his cock, “then stop talking and do something about it.”

Jake clicked his tongue, rolling over so you were under him again, pinning you to the mattress with his weight, eyebrow cocked up, “bossy tonight, aren’t you?” He teased, lips brushing yours as he spoke.

You traced your finger up his spine, grabbing the hair on his nape with a tug that had him groaning, “why wouldn’t I be? You’re mine now, aren’t you?” You challenged. 

“Claiming me now, hm? Not mad anymore?” He caught your wrist, pinning it beside your head with his bandaged hand while his other slid down to grip your thigh, spreading you wider under him. 

The weight of him was heavenly, you could feel the faint ridges of his abs through his hoodie, the way his heart was slamming against your ribs like it was trying to reach you. His pendant swung forward, cool metal kissing your skin right between your breasts, and the sight of your own initials resting there made you whine yet again. 

“Want me to be mad?” You pecked his neck, “want me to go ask someone else to please me—”

Jake’s head snapped up so fast it was almost comical, “you fucking dare say that again,” he almost groaned, his grip on your thigh tightening, fingers digging in like he needed to remind himself you were really here, “don’t even joke about that shit, the thought of someone else even looking at you the way I do makes me want to lose my fucking mind.”

You blinked up at him, surprised by how quickly the jealousy hit, “Jake—”

“No,” He he you off, voice rough as he shoved your shorts and panties down your legs in one impatient yank, the fabric tearing slightly at the seam. He didn’t care. He tossed them off the bed and settled between your thighs like he belonged there, his big nose brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he inhaled deep, shameless.

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes locked on how wet you were, “you’re actually dripping. All this for me, just for me, hm?”

You tried to answer, but the words died in your throat when he dragged two fingers through your folds, spreading the wetness before pushing them inside you in one smooth thrust. The stretch made your back arch off the bed with a sharp gasp.

“Jake—”

“Yeah?” He curled his fingers deep right away, thumb brushing your clit in slow circles. His nose rubbed against your inner thigh as he leaned in closer, breath hot against your pussy, “keep talking. I wanna hear what you wanna say while my fingers are buried in you like this.”

You clenched around him, hips rolling up to chase the feeling, absolutely enamoured with how possessive he was—maybe that’s what you wanted, him claiming you so freely, “you’re so fucking jealous,” you managed, half-laugh, half-moan, “god—I fucking love you.”

It didn’t take much for you to say it, but to Jake, it was everything. 

His fingers froze deep inside you for a split second. Then he yanked them out so fast you whimpered at the sudden emptiness, but before you could even protest he was surging up your body, cupping your face with both hands, thumbs pressing into your cheeks as he stared down at you like you’d just knocked the air out of his lungs.

“Say it again,” he demanded, chest heaving and eyes wild.

“I love you, Jaeyun,” you whispered, looking straight in his eyes. 

“Fuck—I love you too,” he managed to say desperately, he crushed his mouth to yours, kissing you like he was trying to crawl inside your skin, “i needed to hear that.”

He pressed open mouthed kisses all over your torso, only stopping to take his hoodie off in a go, revealing the faint lines of his abs and the light scatter of freckles across his shoulders. The sight of him all flushed, made heat flood between your legs even more.

He slid back down your body fast, shoving your thighs apart wider. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up even more, his big nose brushed your inner thigh as he inhaled deep and shameless. “Fuck, you smell so good when you’re this turned on,” he groaned, then dragged his tongue in one long, filthy stripe up your pussy, moaning loud when he tasted you, “mine, hm.”

His nose rubbed firm and perfect against your clit as he licked, the pressure making your hips jerk.

“Jake—godd,” you gasped, fingers twisting in his hair.

He looked up at you, lips shiny, eyes dark, “yeah? You like my mouth on you?” He sucked your clit into his mouth, fingers pushing back inside you, curling just right, “tell me, baby, I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel while I eat this pretty pussy.”

“So good,” you moaned, thighs shaking around his head, “your nose—right there, it feels so fucking good rubbing my clit like that.”

He caressed the soft flesh of your inner thighs with his veiny hand, thumb stroking back and forth.

Placing open mouthed kisses on it made it worse (better), and you twitched hard.

Jake’s eyes flicked up to yours, lips curving into a filthy little smirk, “oh? Sensitive here?” He dragged his teeth along the inside of your thigh, then sucked hard, leaving a dark mark right where his thumb had been stroking, “fuck, I love that. Gonna mark every spot that makes you shake for me, yeah? My good fucking girl.”

He didn’t give you time to recover. He buried his face between your legs again, eyes never leaving your face, and just how perfect you looked shaking for him, memorizing every bit of it. 

He sucked harder, fingers pumping faster, nose pressing firm and relentless. “Mhm, cum for me, baby. Let me taste how much you want me right now.”

You came hard, thighs clamping around his head as you cried out his name, pulsing around his fingers while he kept licking and sucking you through it, moaning like your orgasm was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

He didn’t stop until you were whimpering and pushing weakly at his shoulders, over-sensitive and trembling.

Only then did he crawl back up your body, kissing you deep so you could taste yourself on his tongue. His cock was straining hard against his pants, the front completely soaked with pre-cum.

You reached down and palmed him through the fabric. “Take these off,” you said, voice hoarse, “I want to see you. All of you.”

Jake sat back on his heels, eyes locked on yours the whole time as he shoved his pants and boxers down his hips, keeping it on the side. His cock sprang free, thick, flushed dark, and leaking at the tip. He wrapped his veiny hand around it and gave himself one slow stroke, watching your reaction.

“Better?” He asked, a smirk tugging at his swollen lips even as his chest still heaved, “this what you wanted?”

You bit your lip, heat flooding through you at the sight of him so flushed and bare, freckles standing out across his nose and shoulders, faint abs flexing with every breath, cock heavy in his hand.

“Better,” you breathed, sitting up just a little, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his thick length. 

He let out a shaky laugh that turned into a groan when you stroked him slowly from base to tip, thumb swiping over the leaking head, “love your hand, so fucking pretty,” he mumbled, hips twitching forward into your fist, “been hard for you for so long it hurts. C’mon, get on your back, baby, I need to be inside you.”

You lay back, spreading your legs for him. Jake settled between them, rubbing the thick head of his cock up and down your soaked folds, coating himself in your wetness, being thick enough that the first push made your breath catch.

“Easy,” he murmured, voice strained as he pressed in slowly, making you feel every inch he gave you, “you’re so tight—fuck, just breathe for me. I’ve got you.”

It took time. He worked himself in with shallow thrusts, letting you adjust to the stretch, his jaw clenched tight, sweat already beading on his flushed chest. When he finally bottomed out, buried to the hilt, the fullness made your eyes flutter shut and a broken moan slip out of you.

“Shit, Jaeyun you’re so deep,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.

He stayed still for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard, “you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, “like you were made for me. Tell me when you’re ready.”

You rolled your hips experimentally and moaned, “yeah, yeah—please.”

He started slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you, building the pace slowly with steadier strokes that made your back arch and your moans louder. Every thrust pushed the air out of your lungs, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room.

“God, look at you taking me,” he panted, eyes locked on where you were stretched around him, “so pretty and full of my cock.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, “harder, Jake. I can take it.”

He groaned and gave you exactly what you asked for, hips snapping faster, the pendant with your initials swinging between your breasts with every thrust. His veiny hand slid down to rub your clit, drawing eights on them. 

You were moaning his name, right on the edge, when you suddenly pushed at his chest, “wait—I want to ride you.”

Jake didn’t hesitate, in fact, he was already drooling at the image of your pretty tits jiggling right in front of him. He flipped onto his back, pulling you on top of him in one smooth motion. You straddled his lap and sank down onto his cock in one go, both of you moaning loudly at the new angle.

“Fuck—ride me, baby,” he groaned, hands gripping your hips as you started moving. His thumbs brushed your nipples, pinching and rolling them while you bounced on his thick length, “so fucking pretty riding my cock like you own it.”

You leaned forward, pressing your chest to his, and started sucking dark hickeys into the side of his neck, right below his jaw, “I do own it, baby.”

Jake’s head fell back, a low moan escaping him as you marked him up.

“You do, just you” he panted, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, holding you against him while the other kept playing with your nipple, “want everyone to see I’m yours.”

He reached blindly to the side, grabbing his discarded pants. From the pocket he pulled out a delicate silver pendant—his initials engraved on it. He had planned on asking you out properly before Jaemin fucked it up, but he didn’t plan on waiting anymore, caressing your neck as he clasped it around you, letting it sit beautifully on your clavicle. 

“Wear this for me,” he said, voice rough as he watched it bounce  lightly with every roll of your hips. The cool metal rested against your overheated skin, a constant little shock that made you shiver, “now say it. Say you’re mine while you’re riding my cock.”

You sat up straighter, rolling your hips deep, warmth blooming inside you at how beautiful the small accessory was, “I’m yours, Jake,” you moaned, looking down at him, “all yours.”

His eyes rolled back for a second, hands tightening on your hips as he helped you ride him harder. “That’s my girl,” he groaned, thumb still playing with your nipple, “keep saying it. I wanna hear it every time you sink down on me, baby.”

You pressed your face into his neck again, sucking another mark there as you rode him faster, both of you lost in each other, sweaty and desperate and finally, completely real.

Jake’s grip on your hips turned bruising, fingers digging in as he thrust up to meet every roll of your body.

“Fuck—baby, I’m so close,” he panted, voice ragged, eyes half-lidded and wild, “I should pull out, shit, I didn’t even ask—”

You shook your head fast, nails digging into his shoulders as you kept riding him, “It’s a safe day,” you gasped, lips brushing his, “I want you inside. Don’t pull out, please.”

Jake’s breath hitched hard, like the words alone almost broke him, “I can’t ever deny you anything, my love,” he groaned, “not when you ask me like that.”

He slammed up into you twice, burying himself deep as he came with a wrecked moan of your name, loud enough to reverberate, hips jerking as he spilled hot and thick inside you. The feeling of him pulsing, filling you, pushed you over right after—you clenched around him hard, thighs shaking, a broken cry of his name leaving your lips.

For a long moment you both just stayed there, trembling. Jake didn’t pull out, wrapping both arms around you and flipping you gently onto your back so he could hover over you, still buried deep, bodies pressed together with no space left. His chest heaved against yours, sweat-slick skin sticking, heartbeat slamming so hard you could feel it through your ribs.

He didn’t speak at first. He just looked at you, eyes glassy and a little wide like he still couldn’t believe this was real. Then he started kissing every mark he’d left on you tonight—the dark bruise on your inner thigh, the ones on your neck, the one just above your breast. Each kiss was slow, open-mouthed, his nose caressing your skin, warm breath fanning over the fresh hickeys like he was memorizing them with his mouth.

You carded your fingers through his damp hair, letting him take his time.

“I was so ready to beg on my knees tonight if that’s what it took,” he finally whispered against your collarbone, “don’t ever make me do that again.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, still a little dazed, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you on your knees, actually.”

Jake lifted his head, eyes meeting yours, he leaned in and pecked your lips once, letting it linger before he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed like he needed the contact more than air.

“Brat,” he murmured, the word warm and fond against your mouth, but the way he said it was so full of quiet, desperate attachment it made your chest tighten. He stayed like that, still inside you, arms wrapped around you, one hand gently stroking up and down your back while the other traced lazy circles over the pendant now warm against your skin. 

“I love you,” he finally said, cupping your cheek. 

“I love you,” you smiled, letting him be as clingy as he wanted to be. 

“Wanna make a bet?” Jake asked, eyes gleaming as you raised your brow. 

You laughed under your breath, thumb brushing his bottom lip. “Depends. What are we betting on this time?”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “that I’ll spend the rest of my life proving this was the best bad idea we ever had.”

You smiled against his lips, pretending to think which only made him whine further. But maybe, this one was worth spending time over. 

“Bet.”

MEANWHILE: 

Jay was repenting for Jake’s sins, staring up at Jungwon, who still appeared to be dissatisfied, half pressed against the man who kept on mumbling, “sorry, Wonie. I’m sorry Jungwonie, please?”

Jungwon only huffed, arms crossed tight even as Jay clung to him like an oversized koala, “you knew about the whole stupid bet and didn’t say a word. I had to watch my best friend get emotionally waterboarded for weeks.”

“I tried to stop it!” Jay whined, nuzzling his face into Jungwon’s shoulder, “I told Jake it was a terrible idea at least thirteen times—”

“Fourteen,” Sunghoon and Heeseung deadpanned from the couch.

Jaemin, already sprawled in the armchair rocking a fresh black eye and split lip, let out a smug little snort, “relax, you babies. I was trying to get them together.”

Jeno, sitting on the floor looking two seconds from committing murder, dragged a hand down his face, “they didn’t even fucking know each other, Jaemin.”

Jaemin shrugged, completely unfazed, “but I saw the bigger picture.”

Heeseung threw a pillow at his head, “there were better ways, you absolute menace.”

Jaemin dodged it with a grin, “yeah, but none as entertaining.” He popped a chip in his mouth and asked casually, “now who do I do next?”

The entire room exploded at once.

“No.”

“Fuck no.”

“Touch another person and I’m punching you this time.”

“I swear to God, Jaemin—”

Jaemin just laughed, raising his hands like he was innocent, “fine. Jay’s next.”

The poor guy looked up in horror. 

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Jungwon snapped, yanking Jay behind him like a human shield who only blushed at the display of power, “you stay the hell away from him, Jaemin. End of discussion.”

Safe to say, everything was going to be okay. 

THANK YOU FOR READING

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[sunishake]

LHS. ᝰ is writing — "it's completely normal to like your wife you know?"

vol 8. — after the distressing breakup of your five years long relationship you finally decided to settle down and marry the infamous disciplined family friend and the heir of Lee Corporation. What you did not expect was a shy tall guy who stammered three times while saying one sentence and looked at you with stars in his eyes.

𖧧 ָ࣪ 𖧵ֹֺֽ໋໋݊ arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff

note: don't let the synopsis fool you

ʚĭɞ if you liked this don't forget to check out my other works in library

Your friends expected it. Your parents braced for it. But when your long-term boyfriend of nearly five years packed his bags, left your shared apartment, and walked out of your life with nothing but a muttered apology and a shadow of regret in his voice, you didn’t shed a single tear.

Instead, you stood by the door, fingers curled around your sleeves, heart thudding like a dull drum inside your ribs as you watched him go. The soft click of the latch felt louder than thunder. And yet, the silence that followed was even louder.

That was the worst part.

Not the betrayal. Not the abandonment. Not even the mess of memories he left behind, the cracked photo frame he bought you in second year, the shared playlist you couldn’t bring yourself to delete, the faint scent of his cologne in your closet.

No. The worst part was how quiet you became afterward.

You, who once painted the world with laughter, you, who danced barefoot in the rain and burned cupcakes on purpose just to see how far disaster could stretch, you, who used to fill empty rooms with your presence before even speaking.

You disappeared slowly. Like fog rolling into the ocean.

It took months before you left your childhood room again. You’d returned home after graduation, saying it was temporary. That you needed to "rethink things.” Your parents didn’t push. Not when they saw the dark circles under your eyes or the way you flinched when the phone rang. You still hadn’t told them the full story. You couldn’t. How do you explain to your mother that the man you were ready to marry simply changed his mind? That he said you were “too much” one day and “not enough” the next?

That he left without a proper reason. Just a goodbye.

You had just curled up with a blanket and an old journal when your mother knocked on your door.

“Y/n-ah,” she called softly. “Come downstairs.”

You didn’t move. “Why?”

“There’s someone we want you to meet.”

You let out a quiet sigh. “Not today.”

“It’s important.”

You sat up slowly, fingers tracing the corner of your blanket. “Who is it?”

“Lee Heeseung.”

Your breath caught.

The name felt familiar in a distant, foggy kind of way, like a song you once heard in the background of someone else’s life.

Heeseung. The boy with perfect grades, perfect posture, perfect life. The son of your father’s business friend. You remembered vague stories about him growing up, the golden heir. Always abroad. Always busy.

Why would he be here now?

Before you could ask, your mother added, “Just for a few minutes.” And for some reason, you listened.

You expected a stiff man in a starched shirt, radiating cold ambition and forced smiles. What you didn’t expect was a man standing awkwardly in your living room, holding a mug of tea like it was a fragile artifact, and looking more nervous than you felt.

He turned when you walked in and paused. You saw the subtle shift in his breathing pattern.

His eyes met yours, and for a brief second, time bent around the space between you. You noticed the way his gaze softened, then darted away quickly, almost embarrassed. The tips of his ears flushed faintly pink.

You blinked. Interesting.

He bowed slightly. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said.

You gave a polite nod, sitting across from him. “You too.”

You didn’t speak much after that. Your parents carried the conversation, polite chatter about the market, mutual friends, old memories. Heeseung answered like a proper gentleman, straight laced and careful with his words. You watched him more than you listened. There was something oddly... stiff about him. Like he hadn’t been in a room with a stranger in years.

He caught you watching once and looked away quickly, clearing his throat leaving a warmth pooling in your stomach as you directed your eyes at your palms resting on your stomach.

They dropped the bomb after dinner. An Arranged marriage. With Lee Heeseung, the heir and future CEO of Lee Corporation.

“Just think about it,” your father had said, his tone soft, his eyes more so. There was hope in them, but it was cautious, almost tentative, like he wasn’t quite sure whether it deserved to be there. Next to him, your mother looked everywhere but at you. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger as if it were a question she couldn’t answer.

And across from you, Heeseung sat.

Tall. Composed. The collar of his button-down crisp, the sleeves of his dark blazer pushed back just enough to show a silver watch that gleamed under the dining room light.

He didn’t look surprised.

He didn’t look anything.

Only when he spoke did something shift “You don’t have to decide now,” he said gently, voice as even as his expression. “We can meet a few more times. Talk. See if it’s something you’re open to.”

You stared at him.

Not because of what he said, but because of how he said it like he already knew how this story ended. Like he’d already accepted whatever answer you might give, even if it was a no. He didn’t plead. He didn’t push. He wasn’t playing the role of the desperate suitor or the charming stranger trying to win your favor.

If anything, he seemed… resigned.

And you?

You were so damn tired.

Tired of grieving a love that had left you in pieces. Tired of pretending you were still the same girl who once believed in fairytales. Tired of hearing your friends get engaged, move abroad, fall in love again while your life stood still, wrapped in a fog you couldn't shake off.

So you nodded. Not because it made sense. Not because it felt right. But because, in that moment, anything was better than standing still.

The wedding was simple.

Elegant in the way a gentle breeze was elegant, soft, intentional, and fleeting. There were no loud colors, no over-the-top displays of affection, no extravagant celebrations. Just muted tones of white and beige draping every corner of the small private hall. Golden hour light filtered in through sheer curtains, making everything seem like a daydream. A few strings of fairy lights hung above your heads like stars that had descended for just this moment. The music was soft, almost distant, like a memory trying not to disturb anyone.

Only family and a few close friends were invited. That was the way you both preferred it — quiet, contained. No crowd to force a smile in front of. No strangers to pretend for.

You stood at the entrance, your hand gently clutching the silk of your ivory dress. It clung to your frame delicately, elegant in its simplicity. Your hair was pulled back, and gold earrings brushed against your neck every time you moved. They had once belonged to your mother.

And across the aisle, waiting....was him.

Heeseung.

He wore a slate grey suit that fit him too well, paired with a navy tie that brought out the deeper shades in his usually unreadable eyes. His posture was rigid, but not from arrogance. From nerves. His fingers twitched at his sides. His lips parted slightly when he saw you.

And he didn’t stop staring.

You walked toward him slowly, trying to ignore the way your heart thudded against your chest like it didn’t remember this wasn’t a love marriage. This wasn’t the fairytale. It was an arrangement. Something practical.

But then why did he look at you like that?

As though something about you had caught him off guard.

His gaze didn’t lower or flicker away, even when you stood right before him. Even when the officiant cleared his throat and began the short ceremonial script. Even when you reached out your hand. His hand met yours with a tremble.

Just a flicker. Barely there. But you felt it. Both of you felt it actually.

When the rings were exchanged and the final blessing was offered, the photographer gestured gently, asking for a hug for the photos. A staged embrace, a brief moment of closeness for the sake of memory.

You hesitated, and so did he. But you stepped forward anyway, lifting your arms with quiet grace and sliding them around his waist. His body stiffened instantly under your touch, like he hadn’t prepared himself to be held. Like he didn’t think you would do it.

But then slowly you felt him breathe. His shoulders softened.

His arms came up, unsure, before settling loosely around your back. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t passionate. But it wasn’t cold either. It felt… human. And when you pulled away, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you saw it.

The faintest blush spreading softly across his cheekbones, like the sun peeking over the edge of dawn.

You bit your lip, amused. A giggle slipped out before you could stop it. It was light, airy, and very real. The kind of laugh you hadn’t heard from yourself in a long time. Heeseung’s eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting it. But then, something shifted in his expression. Not quite a smile but something close. His lips twitched at the corners, and he looked down, embarrassed.

You didn’t know why, but your chest warmed.

The first night in your shared apartment was quiet. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just unfamiliar. A silence that allowed space to exist between two people without demanding they fill it. You both stood in the living room for a moment, bags still at your feet, before silently choosing opposite doors. You unpacked in your rooms. No drama. No awkward hovering.

Well you didn’t expect to be comfortable anytime soon.

But it wasn’t as strange as you thought it would be.

Heeseung knocked softly after a while, standing at your doorway like he didn’t want to intrude. “Are you hungry?” he asked, voice tentative.

“I was thinking of making something,” you replied, brushing off your hands from folding clothes. “Do you want to help?”

He seemed surprised. “I—I mean, I can. If you don’t mind.”

You didn’t.

So you both ended up in the kitchen.

It wasn’t big, but it was clean. Minimalist, like the rest of the apartment. The kind of space that hadn’t yet been lived in. You gave him the task of slicing the vegetables while you heated the oil. It was an ordinary moment. Too ordinary. But he tried his best to keep up. He worked in silence, furrowed brow, bottom lip tugged between his teeth.

And then

“Ow.”

You turned immediately. “What happened?” He lifted his thumb sheepishly, where a thin line of red had appeared. “It’s not bad.”

A spurge of panick rose as you stammered to find anything you can, fortunately heeseung had his emergency bix ready for moments like this. You grabbed a tissue and dabbed it with alcohol immediately, clicking your tongue. “You’re hopeless,” you muttered, gently pressing it to the cut.

He winced.

“You ever held a knife before?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked genuinely guilty. “Not often.”

That made you laugh almost. The corners of your mouth twitched, but you suppressed it. Barely.

Dinner turned out decent. Slightly over-salted, but edible. You both sat at the table across from each other, clinking spoons occasionally. Heeseung ate slowly, carefully, complimenting the food like he was afraid of insulting you otherwise. When the dishes were cleared and the clock ticked past ten, you curled up on the living room couch with a light blanket, journal in your lap. Random dates, random events, random thoughts. Writing helped. It always had. It made you feel like your thoughts were being listened to.

Heeseung settled into the chair across from you, laptop open, fingers dancing over the keyboard. A pair of glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, making him look softer, more academic than corporate. His brows furrowed again as he read something on the screen. You watched him for a moment. The way he adjusted his posture every few minutes. The way he chewed the inside of his cheek when something didn’t make sense. The way he pushed his glasses up with his knuckle.

He was handsome, yes. Way too much handsome from what you've seen till now.

But he was also strange.

Like a puzzle you didn’t know you were supposed to solve. You tore your gaze away and focused back on your journal until the question slipped out of your mouth.

“You always this serious?”

Heeseung paused mid keystroke. His eyes slowly flicked toward you, clearly startled. “Huh?” You leaned back, head tilting playfully. “Or are you just pretending to impress your very pretty wife?”

A beat of silence.

Then he blinked.

And blinked again.

His face flushed. Not pink. Red. An unmistakable crimson that painted his ears, cheeks, even the base of his neck.

You watched it spread with fascination.

He looked away quickly, clearly flustered. “I, uh—I’m not pretending.”

You grinned, unable to help it. Gotcha

And then you laughed. Finally

Not the soft, polite kind. But a laugh that shook your shoulders. A laugh that sounded far too much like your old self. One that tasted like freedom. Like lightness.

Heeseung stared at you wide eyed, confused, but not unhappy. And in that moment, something inside you cracked open.

Not completely.

But enough to let a little light in.

Enough to remember that this whatever this was didn’t have to be cold or lonely. Maybe it could be… different.

Maybe. Just maybe.

After dinner you followed him, heart awkward in your chest. “We’re married,” you said quietly.

He looked at you. Eyes crinkling a bit “We are.”

You bit your lip. “How does it feel?”

“Like I’m going to pass out.”

You laughed. So did he. And just like that, the room warmed.

You both fell asleep that night, not in each other’s arms, but in the same room. Two souls still cautious. But not strangers anymore. Somewhere between the silk sheets and the soft rustling of fabric, you felt his fingers brush yours again. This time, neither of you pulled away.

The days that followed weren’t perfect but they were real. You cooked breakfast. He cleaned the dishes. You danced alone in the living room. He watched, pretending not to smile.

You fought over the last slice of toast but he shared it anyway.

One evening, he returned early and found you on the balcony, feet up, journal in hand.

He stood there, watching you, quiet.

You glanced over. “You know, for someone who likes his space, you hover a lot.” He gave a small smile. “You’re easy to hover around.” Your heart thumped against chest your walls as you closed the journal.

Heeseung walked closer, placing a cup of tea beside you.

You turned to him, a silly expression playing on your lips “You know...I do notice how much you blush every time I touch you.”

He froze. “No I don’t.” You raised a brow. “You just did.”

His ears flamed. “I’m—That’s not—You’re very—” pretty. He stopped. “Never mind.”

You giggled. “You’re cute when you malfunction.” He groaned into his hands. “I’m regretting this marriage already.”

You reached over, gently flicking his forehead. “Liar.”

You were quiet. Not shy. Not submissive. Just... still. And Heeseung had thought, Perfect. No dramatics. No chaos. No endless talking that led nowhere. You seemed like someone who wouldn’t get in the way of his routine. Obedient. Low-maintenance. Easy to manage.

But stillness, he would later learn, was not the same as simplicity.

You weren’t “easy” in the way he first assumed. You were surviving. He just didn’t see it yet.

The first time you touched him, it was nothing. Really, it was nothing. Just a brief adjustment to the collar of his shirt before a family photo. The fabric was crooked, and you, dutiful, distant, fixed it with all the care of someone folding a stranger’s laundry.

But his throat closed.

And later that night, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, he found himself staring at the spot your fingers had grazed. Like it had left a burn.

Heeseung loved that. He loved that he was starting to notice things.

The way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were nervous. The way your voice softened when talking to plants, like they were old friends. The way your eyes darted around the room when you were overwhelmed but trying not to show it. He hated how easily his heartbeat betrayed him.

Once, you fell asleep on the couch wearing his hoodie. He had walked into the room to ask if you wanted tea. Stopped. Stared.

And nearly had a cardiac arrest.

You looked smaller somehow, curled into the armrest, face turned into the fabric that used to smell like him. The hoodie dwarfed you, sleeves swallowed your hands, and you breathed so softly he thought you might disappear if he blinked.

He didn’t touch you. Didn’t dare. Just stood there and watched you sleep like an idiot, pretending it meant nothing that you’d chosen his hoodie over the dozens in your wardrobe. He told himself it was fine.

Until it wasn’t.

Because one evening, you hummed while watering the plants near the window, barefoot in your pajamas, and something twisted painfully in his chest.

You looked… light.

Like whatever darkness you were dragging around had loosened for a second.

And he thought, She still has it. That light. It’s just buried.

But then someone flirted with you at a company party. Some friend of a friend with too many teeth and not enough respect. The guy leaned in too close when he spoke to you, smiling like he knew you, fingers brushing your elbow as he laughed.

And Heeseung saw red.

He was across the room, drink untouched, shoulders tense. The man’s hand hovered near your lower back, and Heeseung didn’t even remember moving, just that he was suddenly there, standing beside you, one hand on your waist, his tone calm but sharp enough to bleed.

“She’s taken.”

The man backed off. Quickly. You glanced up at him, startled. “I was handling it.” But inside you were going absolute nuts. THAT WAS SO FUCKING HOT WTF.

“I know,” he said, eyes never leaving yours. “Didn’t like watching.”

You fell in love with Lee Heeseung. You weren’t sure if it was real, if your brain was just weaving comfort into romance. But the way he looked at you made you feel real. Grounded. Heeseung didn’t flirt. He didn’t chase. But he remembered. He remembered the one time you said you hated sleeping with the door closed. He remembered your favourite scent was lavender, not rose like everyone assumed.

He remembered the time you offhandedly said you always wanted to stargaze, but no one ever took you.

And he remembered you. Even on the days when you couldn’t remember you.

You sat at the breakfast table, spooning cereal into your mouth, pretending not to notice how Heeseung kept glancing at you over the rim of his coffee mug. You were wearing his hoodie, not for sentiment, but because it was soft and smelled like cedarwood and something vaguely comforting.

He cleared his throat. Loudly.

You blinked at him. “Yes?”

He tensed. “What? Nothing.”

“You’ve been staring for five minutes.”

“I wasn’t—” He cut himself off. “You just have milk on your lip.”

You wiped your mouth while giggling “That’s your excuse today?”

He went red. “You’re imagining things.”

“I’m imagining you blushing every time I breathe?"

He said nothing. Just took a long, slow sip of his coffee and looked away. You leaned your chin on your hand. “It’s okay, you know.”

“What is?”

“Liking your wife.”

He choked on his coffee. You handed him a napkin, laughing, and Heeseung groaned into his palm. “Why are you like this?”

You smiled. “Because you like it," and god.... poor Heeseung swore if his gorgeous wife doesn't stop terrorising him anytime soon.

The day began like any other. Soft sunlight filtered through the lace curtains as you flipped the page of your journal, pen poised above the paper. A list of dates stared back at you. Appointments, grocery items, a friend’s birthday next week. There were tiny corrections in the margins, crossed out reminders, swapped days and scribbles you didn’t remember making.

You blinked at them, brow furrowed.

You always kept your journal close. It wasn’t just a habit anymore, it was a lifeline. Your memory had been slipping, barely noticeable at first. A word forgotten. A date misremembered. But lately, the fog had thickened.

You tapped the pen against your palm, trying to recall what you’d written five minutes ago.

“Y/n?” Heeseung’s voice came from the hallway, sleepy and warm. He peeked into the room, his hair tousled from bed. His tie hung loose around his neck. “Did you see my cufflinks?”

You pointed to the dresser. Heeseung stepped in, brushing a kiss over your temple without a second thought. You smiled, heart tugging. His affection had changed. He’d become gentler, softer. He didn’t look at you like he was tolerating a contract anymore, he looked like he was slowly learning how to love.

And you… you were starting to believe in it.

“I’ll make us coffee,” you said, standing a little too fast.

The world tilted sharply and you didn’t even register the fall.

You woke up to beeping machines and Heeseung’s panicked voice floating somewhere near your ear. His hand gripped yours like a lifeline, tight and trembling.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, over and over. “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

Doctors ran tests. Your blood pressure, blood sugar was normal. Heart rate was stable. CT scan was clear. They told you it might’ve been a stress induced fainting spell. Nothing serious.

But it felt serious. You could see it in Heeseung’s eyes. The quiet way he watched you that night, tucking you into bed, fingers ghosting against your forehead. You felt it in your bones too. Something had shifted inside you. And it wasn’t just fatigue.

That night, as you lay beside him in bed, your voice broke the silence “I used to think love was something safe.” He turned his head to you, still half-awake, droopy eyes slowly meeting yours. “But it’s not,” you whispered. “Not always. Sometimes… it just leaves you.”

Heeseung didn’t say anything. But his fingers found yours beneath the covers and squeezed, tender.

“It left me once. Completely. And I’m scared if I ever feel it again, it’ll do the same.”

Your throat closed, you didn’t tell him you were in love with him. But your eyes did. They searched his, trembled with quiet confession, and Heeseung… oh, he was unraveling from the inside. He said nothing. He only gathered you into his arms and held you so tightly, so fiercely, that your breath caught.

And then he kissed your forehead like a promise.

Like he’d never leave.

The warmth didn’t last forever. A shadow crept in slowly, just as your memories began to slip through your fingers like grains of sand.

You fainted again three days later.

This time, it wasn’t dramatic or alarming in the way most people imagined fainting would be. There was no dizziness or shortness of breath. Just silence. Just a quiet, mundane moment, laundry on your lap, socks in your hand, sunlight spilling through the windows like everything was perfectly normal, and then…

Black.

A blink later, you were waking up to the sound of footsteps thundering down the hallway. Heeseung’s voice, frantic and cracking at the edges, shouted something unintelligible into his phone. There was desperation in his tone, something close to begging, and when you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was his silhouette pacing like a man unraveling thread by thread.

You groaned faintly, and the sound jolted him. “Y/n!” The phone clattered to the floor as he dropped beside you, his knees hitting the hardwood. His hands hovered over your shoulders, afraid to shake you too hard, afraid to touch you too softly.

You tried to speak, but only a croaky sound came out.

“Jesus, don’t do that again,” he breathed, brushing a stray hair away from your face with trembling fingers. “You scared the hell out of me.” You blinked at him, mind still foggy, body weak. And then perhaps to deflect the weight in his gaze, perhaps to avoid your own rising dread, you smiled faintly and said,

“Maybe I’m pregnant.”

The words hung in the air like they didn’t belong there. Heeseung stilled.

“Preg—what?!”

You blinked again, suddenly aware of what you’d just said. “I was joking—obviously—I mean, we haven’t even—oh my god—”

His entire face flushed crimson. He scrambled upright, running a hand through his hair like the heat on his cheeks could be shaken off. “Why would you even say that?!”

“I don’t know!” you blurted, still breathless. “I was just—I don’t know—it slipped out!”

“I—okay, well—” He turned away for a second, then turned back just as fast, blurting out, “Would you… want to?”

Silence.

You blinked again, a faint blush creeping on your cheeks this time “What?” you asked softly. He cleared his throat, swallowed, tried again. “I mean not now—not like this, I just–if we ever did...you know like if we were ready—would you want to have a kid with me?”

You just stared at him. Eyes round, heart skipping, stare that peeled you open from the inside and left every thought exposed.

He panicked. “Shit–I didn’t mean it like that. I just–God, I sound like a lunatic. I’m sorry—”

“No,” you interrupted, and your voice, though small, was steady now. “You don’t.”

Heeseung’s breath caught.

You reached forward, hand brushing over his where it hung awkwardly by his side. Slowly, you entwined your fingers, tugging gently until he let himself sit beside you on the couch. He didn’t speak, neither did you.

The silence felt soft this time, tender, warm in its own way.

“I see a future,” you murmured. “And you’re in it.”

He inhaled sharply, chest rising like he’d just been given permission to breathe again. His hand tightened around yours instinctively, and then without another word he pulled you into him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and his around your waist. He held you like you were something fragile and precious. His chin dropped to your shoulder, and you felt his lips press into the crook of your neck, featherlight. Then the top of your head. Then again and again.

The crown of your skull. Your temple. Your hair. Tiny kisses, barely there, like he couldn’t help himself.

His hands moved up and down your back, long strokes, slow and careful like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. Like he wanted to trace your shape into his memory forever. You leaned into him, pressing your cheek against his shoulder, listening to the way his heart thudded so loud it echoed through his chest.

“Heeseung,” you whispered.

“Hmm?”

“You don’t have to be scared.”

He said nothing for a long moment. Then, softly, “You’re the only thing I’m scared of losing.” That’s when you knew...he meant it. Every trembling, terrifying word. It wasn’t just affection. It wasn’t just comfort. He loved you. Quietly, desperately, in the way only someone who’s afraid of not being enough ever could.

But you couldn’t say it back.

Because something in your chest twisted whenever the words reached your throat. You wanted to. God, you did. But how could you, when a part of you knew you might forget the weight of those words one day?

So instead, you just pulled him closer.

Let his warmth anchor you. Let your silence be love. And he accepted it like it was all he needed.

For now.

You weren’t supposed to forget things like this.

It started with little slips. You misplaced your favorite pen, the one you always kept clipped to your journal. You put milk in the pantry instead of the fridge. Called Heeseung’s PA by the wrong name, twice.

You told yourself it was stress.

But you started writing everything down. Grocery lists. Things to do. Things you’ve done. Just in case. You didn’t tell Heeseung. Not yet. He’d been watching you more carefully lately, even after the hospital said you were fine. Normal vitals. Normal bloodwork. Just a little fainting from low blood sugar, they said.

You smiled at Heeseung when he brought you tea in the mornings. Laughed when he’d forget his tie and you’d fix it for him before he left for the day. Kissed his knuckles goodbye.

And then, at night, when he was asleep next to you, you wrote.

Remember: His coffee is black with half a sugar. He hums when brushing his teeth. He hates losing control. He loves order. But he loves you, even when you’re chaos.

Your handwriting trembled some days.

You couldn’t afford to forget him.

Until something happened which shook your whole world. You were out for a small grocery run, just around the corner of your cozy apartment.That afternoon, the sky had been unusually dull for mid spring, kind of gray that made everything feel quieter. You were reaching for a carton of oat milk when someone said your name.

A voice you hadn’t heard in years, soft, hesitant. Drenched in familiarity

“Y/n?”

You froze mid-motion. Hand halfway to the shelf. The fluorescent lights above flickered like they always did in that dingy corner aisle. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

But you did anyway.

Jongseong.

There he stood. Your ex. Five years of history packed into one lean frame and a stupidly familiar jawline, he hadn’t changed much, still wore that same brand of denim, still had his hair pushed back like he hadn’t really tried but somehow looked effortlessly put together. Still had that look in his eyes, like he was constantly on the verge of saying something meaningful. You wished you could’ve walked away, wished your feet moved. But your body betrayed you. You stood rooted, staring at the man who had left you broken on the bathroom floor that night so many years ago.

“Hi,” he said, cautiously, as if testing the waters.

You let out a shaky breathe, recovering. “What the hell are you doing here? ”

His lips curved into that apologetic smile, the one that once made you forgive things you never should have. “Shopping. Just moved back last month.”

Of course he did. A painful silence settled between you, thick like humidity before a storm. You hated how your heart still reacted, a strange, erratic beat that had nothing to do with affection and everything to do with trauma. You glanced down at your cart. Laundry detergent, a bag of oranges, ice cream you knew Heeseung would pretend not to like but eat anyway.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said, voice low. “You look…”

“Don’t.”

That shut him up. He nodded, eyes darting around. “I heard you got married.”

You responded by muttering a quiet 'hm' and stepping back. “I—I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said finally, breath hitching. “For how I left. For all of it. I was a coward. I know that now.” You closed your eyes for a second. Let the words wash over you like cold water. They didn’t heal anything. Didn’t change the nights you’d spent alone wondering what you did wrong.

“I don’t need your apology,” you said, quiet but firm.

He took a step forward, then another. You didn’t move. You should have, but it was too late. He pulled you into a hug before you could protest. His arms wrapped around you like old muscle memory. You felt nothing.

No heat. No pain. Just a dull ache — like pressing on a bruise that had already begun to fade.

You let it happen.

Maybe out of shock. Maybe because you needed to feel nothing for a moment. Then you pushed him back.

“Don’t do that,” you said, voice sharp.“I just—” He looked desperate now. “I miss you, Y/N.”

“I don’t.”

He recoiled like you’d struck him. And maybe you had.

Your hands were still trembling when you stepped out of the grocery store. The air outside was thick with city noise, buses hissing past, horns blaring somewhere in the distance but everything around you felt strangely muted. As if the world had taken a step back, blurred its edges, dulled its colors.

He had touched you.

He had hugged you.

And you had frozen. Stiff, shocked, disgusted. You didn’t even know what scared you more, the fact that he dared to wrap his arms around you, or the fact that, for a split second, you didn’t pull away fast enough. You could still feel the ghost of that hug clinging to your skin like grease. You wiped your arms with your sleeves again and again as you walked, as if scrubbing the moment off could make it disappear.

It didn't.

Halfway back to your apartment, your vision started to blur. The world tilted to one side. Your legs stumbled, heart racing in your chest, a noise ringing faintly in your ears.

And then nothing.

You woke up under hospital lights, too white, too sharp, sterile brightness. A cold breeze hummed from the AC. Your wrist had a hospital band. Your head throbbed.

“Miss?” the voice of a young nurse stirred beside you. You nodded.

It was third time in one month. And the last two times you’d brushed it off, too little sleep, maybe low blood sugar, maybe stress. But this time felt different. Your limbs still felt heavy. Your memory hazy. You sat up slowly as the doctor entered, young, calm, and professional, with a clipboard in his hand and a thoughtful expression behind his glasses.

“We ran some tests while you were unconscious. Vitals look stable, but I want to ask a few questions.”

You nodded absently, already reaching for your journal. The leather cover had softened from overuse. You opened it and began jotting something down under the last entry, the date, the name of the hospital, a reminder to track symptoms.

The doctor noticed.

“You carry that with you often?” he asked.

“Always,” you replied, not looking up. “It helps me keep track of things. Sometimes… I forget details. Or what day it is.”

He tilted his head. “How long have you been doing that?”

“For months....more than half a year to be exact...”

“And before that?”

“I....don't remember ” you said simply.

The next ten minutes passed in quiet tension as he asked you a series of questions. Your age, your name, your address.

Easy enough.

Then what day it was, the current year, who the president was.

You fumbled. You knew it. You did. But in that moment, it slipped away like mist through your fingers. You blinked hard, tried again. But your mouth stayed still.

The doctor’s voice was gentle. “Y/N… I’m going to be honest with you. Some of the signs you’re displaying memory lapses, spatial confusion, fainting episodes they’re consistent with early onset Alzheimer’s disease.”

You stared at him. What?

The words didn't make sense. Not at first.

That was something older people got. Grandparents. Not someone in her twenties. Not someone like you.

“That's not possible,” you murmured. “That’s not—people my age don’t get that.”

“It’s rare,” he agreed, “but not impossible. Especially when there’s a genetic predisposition or trauma involved. We’ll need to run more scans, cognitive assessments, but... I’d advise preparing for the possibility.”

The room closed in.

You were still holding your pen. You hadn’t even finished your sentence in the journal “What happens now?” you asked, your voice brittle.

“You be careful,” he said quietly. “You start documenting everything. You let someone close to you know. And… you prepare. Because things might start getting messy from now on.”

You nodded.

You didn’t cry. Not yet. There was a storm going inside you. What happens now? Instead, you turned to your journal and wrote everything down.

Because if your brain was going to fail you…you needed your words to remember.

Heeseung noticed the emotional shift before anything else. You became quieter, guarded again. It reminded him of how you were when he first met you, polite, careful, full of silences that hurt more than shouting.

He didn’t understand why.

You weren’t pulling away physically. You still reached for his hand, still leaned into his chest on the couch. Still smiled at his stupid jokes. But something behind your eyes had dimmed.

Heeseung didn’t press. At first. Then, one afternoon, he caught you staring blankly at the laundry machine. You’d loaded it three times and hadn’t turned it on.

You didn’t even notice him standing behind you until he touched your arm.

“Are you okay?”

You blinked. “Yeah. Just... zoned out.” He didn’t believe you but he nodded anyway. That night, you sat on the balcony with your journal in your lap. The stars were faint, the city always swallowed most of them. Still, you looked up and whispered to yourself

“I hope I remember what the sky looks like.”

Heeseung’s promotion came two weeks later.

CEO.

The letters barely held any weight in your mind, but they meant everything to the company and to him. It was the culmination of years of dedication, late nights, near flawless discipline. He had been groomed for this position since the day he stepped into his father’s office, and now he finally stood at the top. There was a celebration, of course. Lavish, gleaming, all sharp suits and champagne glasses. You were expected to be there, not just as his wife, but as his partner, the quiet, polished figure beside the man of the hour. A photograph for the headlines. A name in the caption.

And so, you helped him get ready.

He stood in front of the mirror while you adjusted the lapels of his charcoal suit, the one you had picked for this night months ago, long before the diagnosis, long before your world started folding in on itself. It had a clean cut, regal structure, and a dark sheen under warm lighting. He looked like a leader. Like someone people would follow.

Like someone who deserved everything good in this life.

You moved closer, fingers brushing over his shoulders as you smoothed down the fabric. Then the tie — a deep navy silk one that complimented his skin. You looped it slowly, methodically, the way you’d done a hundred times before, but today your hands were a little shakier. When you finished tightening the knot, you adjusted the collar, folding it just right.

And then… you met his gaze.

He was looking at you the way he always did when he was proud of something. Eyes full of stars. That small boyish smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. The kind of smile that made your heart ache because he still saw you not the version that was slowly slipping through cracks, but the version that had once walked into his life like a spark.

“You’re really good at this,” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “Should I be worried? You might have a secret career as a stylist.”

You chuckled weakly “Only for you.”

Heeseung grinned, a hint of pink on his ears as he lowered his head shyly. He had always been like this, confident in the boardroom, decisive in crisis, but hopelessly soft around you. “When are you getting ready?” he asked “I mean, not that I want to rush you, but… should I help you with your dress too?” It was teasing, yes. But the sincerity in his tone turned it fragile. Tender. As if he wanted nothing more than to make you feel cared for.

You couldn't meet his eyes anymore.

Your smile felt forced, stretched across your face like something stitched on. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips quick, light, almost mechanical then pulled back and murmured, “I’ll go change now.”

You walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind you.

Locked it.

The moment you turned around, the first sob escaped before you could stop it. Your back slid against the door, and you dropped to the floor, your knees folding beneath you.

You cried.

Not the loud, guttural cries of heartbreak. These were quieter. More dangerous. Cry that hollowed you out from the inside. The kind that didn’t shake the walls but carved themselves into your ribcage like scratches from within. Because how could you stand beside him tonight? How could you wear a smile and pose for photographs next to someone so perfect, so capable, so destined while you were falling apart in silence?

You didn’t deserve to be in those frames. You didn’t deserve the warmth in his voice or the light in his eyes. Heeseung wasn’t just beautiful, he was good. A man who’d carry the weight of the world and still ask how you were doing. He deserved someone strong. Someone helpful. Someone who would hold his hand and not forget the reason why she loved him.

Not someone who would make his life harder. You pulled your knees to your chest, pressing your forehead against them, biting back the next wave of sobs. Tears soaked through the fabric of your dress before you even realized.

And then came a knock. Gentle, hesitant.

“Y/N?” His voice. Muffled through the door, but heavy with concern. “Are you okay?” You panicked for a moment. Could he hear you crying? Could he feel it through the wood? You scrambled to your feet, wiping your face with trembling hands. “I’m fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Just… changing. I’ll be out in a minute.”

A beat of silence.

“Okay,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced. You heard his footsteps retreat, but slowly. Like he was still half-listening. You turned to the mirror.

Your eyes were red. Your lips were trembling. Your heart was still fractured in your chest.

But you smiled. You forced it. You fixed your face, did your makeup, washed your cheeks with cold water. You put on your dress, the one he loved and stepped into the role you needed to play tonight.

His wife, His person. And maybe a ticking clock he hadn’t heard yet.

Everyone at the office practically worshipped him that day. Heeseung stood on the stage like he was born for it, tall, composed, every line of his suit sharp, every word he spoke deliberate. The perfect heir, finally crowned. You watched him from the back of the room, fingers loosely threaded in front of your dress, the heels you wore pressing too hard against your ankles. He scanned the crowd with those piercing eyes of his, unreadable as ever, until they landed on yours. His gaze softened. Just a flicker a small, private moment no one else caught.

You smiled. Clapped along with everyone else. Even mouthed a “congratulations” later, when he walked off stage and found you again.

But it ached.

The pride did. The smile. The applause. The knowledge that this moment belonged to him, but not fully to you.

Because you’d seen it all evening.

That woman Heejin, his PA hovering just a little too close. Laughing at his jokes like she’d memorized the rhythm of his humor. Knowing the stats, the reports, the number of interviews scheduled, the name of the board member’s wife who just had a baby. She touched his arm like she had every right. Whispered in his ear and was so dangerously close to adjust his tie like it was second nature.

You told yourself it didn’t matter.

Heeseung was with you throughout the whole event. When he wasn’t being pulled away to speak with department heads or board directors, he returned to your side. He introduced you formally. Called you his wife. Smiled that same smile that always softened at the edges when it was just the two of you. Still, it felt like a storm was swelling beneath the chandeliers.

The whispers began slowly, it curled around your ankles and trailed up your spine like a chill. Faces half turned. Brows raised. Smirks too subtle to name. For a moment you thought you were imagining it.

Until Heejin, heels clicking, ponytail high made her way to Heeseung and whispered something in his ear while holding her phone to his face. His jaw tensed. The sharp intake of his breath wasn’t loud, but you felt it like a slap.

He didn’t say anything. Just handed the phone back, eyes suddenly blank. You took a step forward, concern prickling in your chest, but before you could reach him

Your own phone buzzed.

One notification. Then another. Then another.

You froze as the screen lit up with a forwarded image and a text chain that had clearly been passed from one employee to another.

A picture.

Of you and Jongseong.

Your arms around each other in the middle of a grocery store aisle. His head tilted, mouth close to your ear. The caption was cruel —

"The new CEO’s wife already bored? Guess Heeseung’s cold heart wasn’t enough to keep her warm."

The room spun for a second. You gripped your clutch tighter, your breath lodged in your throat. You remembered that day. Every nauseating second of it. How you’d walked out of the store in shock and disgust that you’d let your ex touch you. How the encounter made your stomach churn. How you’d fainted halfway to your apartment the third time in a month. How you woke up in the hospital, and how that day changed everything for you.

But none of that was in the photo.

Just a snapshot. A second. A cruelly timed frame that looked like you were holding someone you still loved.

You barely made it through the rest of the event.

when you returned home, Heeseung was quiet.

Too quiet.

He removed his tie slowly, hands shaking in the low light of your shared bedroom. You stood by the dresser, unsure whether to speak first. The silence between you throbbed, thick and pulsing like a bruise.

“I didn’t know about the picture,” you breathed out, finally. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

He didn’t look at you. Just nodded. “Okay.” But that okay was hollow. A placeholder. You stepped closer. “I didn’t know someone took it. It wasn’t a… moment. It was nothing. I told him to stay away.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, still not meeting your eyes. “Did you?”

You blinked. “Yes.”

He licked his lips, exhaled. His voice cracked when he spoke. “Do you still love him?”

The question hit you like a punch.

“No,” you said too quickly. His eyes finally lifted to yours. Red rimmed. Vulnerable in a way he rarely showed. “Then why did you look like you did?”

You hesitated. “I didn’t. That photo—”

“No,” he interrupted gently, almost apologetically. “I’m not blaming you. I just… I don’t know how to ask this without sounding like I’m accusing you, but… was I not enough? Am I… not enough for you?” It broke your heart to hear him ask that. To hear that insecurity come from someone who had always seemed so sure of himself so composed, so precise. “You’re more than enough,” you said. “God, Heeseung, you’re everything. That day… I was in shock. I didn’t want him to touch me. I felt disgusted the second he did. And after that— I—" you stopped, more like the words abruptly run out of your brain. What exactly happened after that? You wanted to reach out to your journal but at this moment it felt like a foreign subject in that room.

He stared, breath caught in his throat “after that what?”

You opened your mouth. But nothing came out.

So instead, you reached for him. Sat beside him. Took his hand in yours “I felt like I didn’t deserve you,” you said honestly. “You’re… perfect. And I’m not. I’m going to ruin your life.”

He shook his head, eyes stinging. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” you whispered.“No.” He squeezed your hand. “I’ve ruined every relationship I’ve been in because I’m quiet. Closed off. I tried to do better with you. I tried to laugh more, talk more, open up. I don’t know if that scared you. Maybe I overwhelmed you—”

You didn’t let him finish. You pressed your mouth to his.

Soft at first. Like reassurance. Like apology.

But it didn’t stay soft. Your lips opened. His hands found your waist. Yours slid to the nape of his neck. He pulled you into his lap, clutching you like he didn’t want you to vanish. It was desperate. Heated. His mouth moved against yours with all the frustration and confusion he couldn’t put into words. His tongue tasted of hurt, of longing, of too much and not enough all at once. Your hands explored his jaw, his chest, the familiar planes of his body.

You gasped into his mouth when he gripped your thigh, and he caught the sound with his own lips, like he couldn’t stand to be away from you for even a second.

Clothes shifted. Hands wandered. You both chased each other’s warmth, each other’s breath, each other’s forgiveness. Your bodies tangled, your mouths pressed again and again, as if trying to remember what this meant what you meant.

When it was over, you lay against his chest, both of you breathless.

He held you like you were something breakable. You clutched the fabric of his shirt in your fist like he was your anchor.

Neither of you spoke.

Because sometimes, silence wasn’t emptines.....sometimes it was healing.

You stayed like that until sleep found you, nestled in the wreckage of that night, hearts still beating wildly but at least for now still together.

The next morning, he woke up alone.

Your pillow was cold.

Your phone was gone.

So were you.

Heeseung tore the apartment apart. Every room, every drawer, every closet. He called everyone. Checked hospitals. Airports. Police stations.

Nothing.

It was like you’d never existed.

Except for one thing

Your journal.

You’d hidden it behind the books on the shelf. It fell when he yanked the entire stack down in a frenzy. He opened it with shaking hands. Inside, he found pages pf him. Notes, memories, doodles of his face, stupid jokes, coffee orders, days he looked happiest, days he looked tired, the way he kissed your temple after work, the time he asked if you wanted kids and you couldn’t stop laughing.

But nothing about you.

No fears. No timeline. No diagnosis.

Until the last page.

Your last entry....probably

If you’re reading this, I probably forgot to tell you...I didn’t mean to leave like this. But I was so scared, Heeseung. I’m still scared. Alzheimer’s, That’s what they said. I’ll forget my name. My home. Maybe one day… even you. But I wrote you down so I wouldn’t. Because how could I forget the only place I ever felt safe?

He found the prescriptions next, right in between the pages, crumbled hard truth. His hands were shaking and he dropped the journal.

You weren’t in any of the places that made sense. Not your mother’s. Not your childhood home, the hospital where they gave you that impossible diagnosis, not even that quiet little beachside cafe you loved as a teenager, the one you once told Heeseung you’d run away to if life ever got too loud.

Heeseung checked them all. He didn’t stop looking. His PA begged him to rest and his board of directors hinted at taking a leave. Tabloids started speculating that you had disappeared because of him but that was not enough to make him stop looking for you. He ignored it all.

You were gone.

And all he had left was a journal where you remembered everything about him… but not a single word about yourself.

It destroyed him.

Every scribbled sentence felt like a goodbye in slow motion.

You wrote down his allergies, his favorite tie, the way he bit his lip when he was nervous. You even wrote down the first time he ever said your name like it meant something. But nothing — nothing — about when you first forgot your keys. Or when you got your test results. Or when you decided that loving him meant leaving.

Heeseung knew you did it to protect him.

But he didn’t want protection.

He wanted you.

At nights, Heeseung found himself on the beach. The sky quiet, no stars and too much cloud. Just the sound of waves, soft and endless. He remembered what you said once about wanting to see stars

“I feel like I belong to the sea. It forgets everything and still keeps going.”

He stared at the ocean for a long time. Then whispered, “I won’t forget you. Even if you forget me.”

Back in Seoul, your disappearance became public. Someone leaked the hospital records. Someone else found the journal. It was only a matter of time. Suddenly, the narrative changed. You weren’t the runaway wife anymore.

You were tragically sick. Young. Beautiful. Doomed.

The world grieved you like a ghost while you were still breathing somewhere. Heeseung hated it.

He hated that they mourned your memory while he still clung to your toothbrush. Hated that your name became a headline when it used to be a whisper only he was allowed to say that gently. And through all of it, the noise, the press, the pity he kept looking.

Weeks passed.

The world moved on.

He didn’t.

It was almost six months later when the knock came. A strange, hesitant rhythm, three soft raps, then silence. It wasn’t the knock you get from someone delivering mail or asking for a favor. It was the kind that came burdened with weight. With grief. With something you weren’t ready to hear. Heeseung opened the door, expecting a stranger. And he was though somehow, not entirely.

The man looked about his age. Disheveled, eyes filled with exhaustion and rimless glasses around them, lips trembling like he’d rehearsed this moment too many times only to still not be ready.

“Are you… Heeseung?” he asked, voice rough, tight. Heeseung blinked. “Yes. Can I help you?”

The man swallowed, then took a deep breath like it hurt to say her name. “I’m Jake. I—

I’ve been taking care of Y/N.”

Heeseung didn’t register it at first. But then the words unfurled inside his chest like shrapnel.

“I found her,” Jake continued, “about six months ago. On the street. She had fainted. Hit her head pretty bad.”

Everything around Heeseung went still. His fingers gripped the door tighter.

“You what?”

Jake nodded, frantic now. “I tried to help her. I brought her to the hospital. I wanted to call you—believe me, I did. But she… she begged me not to. Said you’d worry. Said she just needed a moment away.”

Heeseung felt his world turn inside out. “So she’s with you?” Jake’s expression shattered. “Yes...but I can't do this anymore. ” He stepped forward, desperate now. “Please, can I come in?”

They sat in silence for a moment on opposite ends of the couch. Jake’s fingers trembled around the cup of water Heeseung handed him. “I’m sorry,” Jake murmured, voice cracking. “I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t know if there’s a right way to explain any of this.”

Heeseung nodded stiffly, not trusting himself to speak. Jake looked down. “She didn’t remember much that day. Just bits and pieces. She kept asking for directions to a bakery that closed years ago. She was mumbling about… socks, a couch, stars. It didn’t make sense at first.” He paused to take a breathe “But there was something about her. Something… delicate. She didn’t want to be seen as fragile, but she was. She had this quiet kind of sadness. Like she was running from her own mind.”

Heeseung’s throat felt like sandpaper.

“I brought her to my place,” Jake continued, wiping his eyes. “It was closer than the hospital. She stayed for a few days. Then… weeks. And I just… let her.”

There was guilt in every syllable.

“I should’ve called you. I know that. But I—she asked me not to. She said she wasn’t ready to go back. That she needed time. And after everything she told me—or tried to tell me—I didn’t want to force her.”

Heeseung finally found his voice, low and raw. “Told you?”

Jake let out a weak laugh. “Pieces. Fragments. She kept scribbling on papers. I read one by accident one night when she forgot where she hid it.” That hit Heeseung in the chest. “She still wrote?”

“Obsessively,” Jake whispered. “Dates. Events. What you wore. The first time you laughed during breakfast. The time you hugged her when she thought no one would.” He looked up at Heeseung with a hollow sort of respect. “She didn’t write about herself. Just you.”

The silence that followed was cruel.

Then Jake broke it, voice cracking open. “I didn’t plan on falling for her. But it happened.”

Heeseung’s fingers curled into fists.

“I think… I think I fell in love the moment she offered to fold my laundry. She said she couldn’t sleep unless the room was organized, so she started arranging things, my books, labeled my kitchen spices.” He gave a humorless laugh. “She even asked me one night what tie I’d be wearing the next day. I told her I was a kindergarten teacher—I don’t wear ties. I don’t even own one.”

Heeseung looked at him, and something inside him twisted.

Jake’s next words came with a crack.

“She said she loved me once. Looked me straight in the eye and said it. But I knew—God, I knew—she didn’t mean me.”

Heeseung's chest ached.

“She looked at me like she loved someone. But there was no warmth in it. No spark. Just muscle memory.” Jake’s hands trembled harder. “Every day, she did things I knew weren’t meant for me. She’d ask me if I remembered the constellation we saw last December. I’ve never gone stargazing with her. She made tea the way you liked it. She even called me 'Seung' once.”

Heeseung felt the blood drain from his face.“I tried to be enough,” Jake whispered. “I told myself if I loved her hard enough, it wouldn’t matter that she was forgetting. That I wasn’t the one she loved. But I’m not strong enough. I can’t keep lying to myself. I’m going crazy.”

His voice finally broke. “She’s still in love with you.”

Heeseung sat frozen, pain slicing through every nerve. Jake covered his face. “I didn’t come here to fight. Or to beg. I came because I can’t hold this anymore. She’s slipping, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to keep her grounded.”

He looked up, red-eyed. “But maybe you do.”

Heeseung didn’t sleep that night. Jake left after an hour. Not because he wanted to, but because he said staying longer would feel like he was asking for permission.

Heeseung wandered back into the old room you used together. It still smelled like you. The scent hadn’t left, even though you had. He sat at your desk and opened one of the drawers.

And there it was.

Your journal. The one with the frayed corner and ink blot on the back. His hands shook as he turned the pages.

February 3rd – Heeseung laughed today. Actually laughed. I think it was because I burnt the toast and blamed the toaster, but I want to believe it’s because he’s starting to feel safe around me.

March 19th – He looked at me like I was someone worth choosing.

May 1st – I told a joke. He didn’t laugh. I think I messed up. I think I’m slipping again. Heeseung, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry. I wanted to remember. I wanted to stay.

Heeseung pressed the pages to his chest and let himself cry.

Because you didn’t run away. You simply… forgot your way back. And now he had to find you before the memory of him disappeared too.

The storm had passed, but the ruin it left behind still trembled beneath Heeseung’s ribs. The next morning, sunlight spilled pale and cold over his apartment floor, but there was no warmth in it. Just silence. Thick. Suffocating. Jake had left the address on a wrinkled piece of paper, scrawled in shaky handwriting like his hands were trying to outrun guilt. Heeseung held it tight as he stood in front of the door now, frozen not from fear, but something worse.

What if you look at him and see nothing? He didn’t knock. He just stood there for a second. Then another. Then the door opened from the inside. You stood barefoot, hair pulled back loosely, wearing a familiar oversized cardigan. His cardigan.

But the eyes that met his weren’t familiar at all.

You frowned.

“Who are you…” your head tilted, voice uncertain. “Why do you look so sad?”

It wasn’t a joke anymore. It wasn’t teasing. Your voice was too sincere, too puzzled. Heeseung’s heart dropped into a bottomless void.

He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t even breathe. So he stepped forward and hugged you. He didn’t ask. Didn’t wait. He just pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly it nearly broke both of you.

“I missed you,” he whispered, voice trembling against your ear. “I missed you so goddamn much.”

For a beat, you didn’t move. Then your fingers clutched his shirt. And you began to cry.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” you said, voice cracking. “But you… you feel familiar.” He nodded into your shoulder, gripping you like an anchor in a storm.“You’re warm... but so familiar ” you mumbled, cheek pressed against his collarbone now. "Heeseung...why are you sad?”

His tears spilled freely now.

Behind them, Jake watched from the hallway, shoulders stiff, arms crossed, mouth quivering.

When you turned slightly and met Jake's eyes

You blinked. Shifting suddenly,Then asked, “Who are you?”

Silence.

Jake’s lips parted. But no sound came.

A second passed. Then another. He blinked once, twice, swallowed the storm threatening to choke him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered.

Heeseung didn’t speak. Didn’t turn.

Jake’s eyes glistened. But he smiled anyway, as if giving you up was the easiest thing he’d ever done. He turned away and went into the other room. A silent retreat.

That night, Heeseung stayed. He didn’t sleep. Neither did you. You curled against him on the couch, wrapped in past like a quilt. He tucked you into his side like he had never lost you. Your hand rested on his chest, fingers twitching every so often like you were trying to remember something with touch alone.

In the silence, you whispered, “I want to go.”

He turned to look at you, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Where?”

You shook your head, confused. “I don’t know. Just… away.”

“Away from what?”

“I don’t know that either,” you said. “But I want to go. With you.” Heeseung kissed your forehead, gently. “Okay.”

Jake woke up to an empty house. No voices. No breathing. No you. He called out once. Twice. Silence answered.

His heart seized.

Then he saw it, on the dining table. A phone. No, not a phone. A voice recorder. The kind Heeseung used sometimes when working through business proposals aloud.

He pressed play. And heard Heeseung’s voice. Soft. Tired. But steady.

“Jake…I know you probably hate me right now. Maybe you should. But I need to say this before I go.

Thank you.

Thank you for finding her when I lost her. For caring for her when I didn’t know how. For loving her in the quiet ways that kept her alive.

I read the journal.

I know now that she didn’t leave because she wanted to forget me. She left because she was scared I’d forget her. Or worse, that I’d watch her forget me. But Jake… she remembers something. Somewhere deep down, in the part of her soul untouched by time or illness or fear...she remembers love.

And I’m going to remind her. Every day. Until the stars go out. I’m taking her away. Just the two of us.

She wanted to go. So I’m taking her where the sky’s clear and quiet. Where the world slows down.

I’m going to show her the stars.”

The recording stopped. Jake stood there for a long, long time. He didn’t cry right away. Instead, he sat down at the kitchen table. Fingers trembling, he reached for the cross that hung from his necklace.

Clutched it. Pressed it to his lips. And closed his eyes.

“Take care of them,” he whispered. “Please.”

And then he cried. For you. For Heeseung. For himself. For the cruel poetry of loving someone who never truly belonged to you.

THE END

©sunishake

[lululoveyy]

this made me kick my feet, laugh and cry so be warned!!

[mssishipi]

YOUR TURN — hyung line

YOUR TURN — 1. A phrase used in a gangbang to tell the next person waiting that it’s time for them to step in and get involved. 2. A slut’s opportunity—the moment when it is finally her chance to act, indulge, and surrender herself after others have already taken theirs. The phrase emphasizes delayed gratification, where the receiver eagerly awaits her turn to be used or to participate after hearing others go before her.

content tags/warnings: hyung line x reader, reader is horny and desperate, men are assholes, inspired by the show series euphoria. explicit content (smut): porn with no plot at all, gangbang, face fucking, facials, nipple play, fingering, oral fixation, unprotected sex, degrading language, pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling etc), double penetration, protected anal sex, slapping, hentai like expressions, handjob, overstimulation, tits fucking, squirting, lack of verbal consent in some scenes, choking, pain play, creampie, this is straight up porn but have a potential romance at the end. lmk if i missed something. WC: 17.2K

It wasn't like you were some kind of slut, right?

Who were you kidding? Any girl with a working pussy would drool if she stood close enough to those four men. Not just because of their looks, not just because of the sharp edges of their jawlines or the way their eyes seemed to strip people down without touching them, but because how they confidently carried themselves. Their scent. That mix of cologne and sweat that made your throat dry the second they passed by. It wasn't normal, not the way your body reacted. Not the way your thighs pressed together when you thought of them. But you kept telling yourself it was. It had to be.

Lee Heeseung, Park Jongseong, Sim Jaeyun, and Park Sunghoon. 

Four names that rang louder than any lecture in your university halls. Four names whispered in bathrooms, shouted across freedom walls, written down in anonymous confessions like some fucking campus legends. Everyone knew them. Everyone wanted them. And everyone, at least once, wondered what it would be like to be touched by them.

People pretended to sneer at their lives, at the rumors tied around them, but the truth always leaked through—envy, hunger, the kind of desperate need nobody wanted to admit out loud. Because deep down, every damn rumor about them only made them more untouchable, more godlike.

And then there was that one rumor. The one that tore through the university like wildfire.

The gangbang story.

The most scandalous, dirtiest thing anyone had ever whispered, and yet nobody could stop talking about it.

Nobody could prove it. Nobody knew if it was just a story made up by someone bored, but fuck, if it had been real... if it had been real, then you weren't sure what was worse. The fact that people called it disgusting or the fact that it made your whole body clench with jealousy.

How fucking scandalous. How fucking disgusting.

And how fucking pathetic that every time you thought about it, your chest got tight, your mouth went dry, and all you could think was: if that rumor had ever been true, if those four had ever taken a girl like that, then why the fuck wasn't it you?

"Someone caught Jake making out with a girl from Tourism!"

"Someone said Sunghoon's been fucking that sophomore from another building!"

"Have you heard that Jay is smoking at the back of the building while the TA sucks him off? Geez, what a lucky girl."

"And that cheerleader said Heeseung likes girls who can spread their legs wide!"

Your hands gripped your pen tighter, knuckles turning pale, jaw clenched as the chatter bled into your ears. Every fucking sentence was the same—different girls, different places, different dirty details—but the same four names, always the same four names. It was exhausting, it was maddening, and it was starting to chew holes into your focus.

"Stop it," you hissed finally, snapping your head up to face the group of girls clustered near the corner. "There are people here who are trying to study. Maybe try doing that instead of running your mouths about men and their sex lives. Do you have no shame?"

The table went quiet, their smirks twitching as they shared quick glances between themselves. One girl rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, but none of them pushed back. They just leaned back into their seats, whispering low but not low enough, as if they wanted you to hear every giggle, every stifled laugh.

You tried to turn back to your notes, but your pulse wouldn't settle. You're not annoyed that they were gossipping.

You were jealous.

Jealous that every rumor had someone else's name attached to it. Jealous that every filthy story, every detail, every moan that lived in their words belonged to another girl and not to you.

Fuck! It's unfair! It's so unfair! Why was it always someone else? Why did it have to be another girl they kissed, another girl they bent over, another girl who got to hear their voices from fucking?

You exhaled sharply through your nose, trying to drown it out, trying to stay steady. But every word of theirs came back to the same thing. Their dicks. Their moans. Their fucking. And all it did was remind you that you hadn't had a single taste of any of it, not even once.

Fuck it. When was it supposed to be your turn?

You tried. God, you fucking tried. You started dragging yourself to every fraternity party you caught wind of, even ones you had no business going to, all in hopes of catching just one of their eyes. You would push through sweaty bodies and strobe lights, pretending to dance, pretending to laugh, only to learn that Jay had already gotten bored and left long before you even stepped in. The disappointment would choke you, but you still kept showing up. 

Like some desperate puppy waiting for scraps.

You started waxing everything, every inch of your body, until your skin burned. You bought bottles of expensive perfume you couldn't even afford, ones that clung to your clothes and hair until it made you dizzy. You thought maybe, they liked girls who smelled clean, who looked like they had their shit together, but deep down you knew it didn't matter. Because how would they ever notice when you didn't even have the guts to open your mouth?

"Uh... do you know, like, how to talk to Heeseung?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual while your eyes betrayed you, glued to the tall figure across the library.

He was sliding books off a shelf, completely unaware of the way your whole body went tense, your throat dry, your palms slick with sweat. Even from a distance you swore you could smell him, that same maddening warmth that clung to him whenever he walked past.

Your friend blinked, eyebrows raised as though she couldn't believe the words had actually come out of your mouth. "About what? You know damn well he doesn't talk to girls in public. People only talk about how he fucks them hard and then disappears. No contact. Nothing. Ever." She scoffed, dismissing it with a wave of her hand, before her gaze sharpened on you. A smirk tugged at her lips and she let out a loud laugh that made your ears burn. "Wait. Don't tell me you're actually planning something. You think you're gonna get him to fuck you?"

Her laughter made your eye twitch. You felt her gaze scan over you, up and down, picking apart everything you were, everything you weren't. She reached over, patting your shoulder in a way that only made you feel smaller.

"It's okay to dream big," she said, lips curving into a cruel little smile, "but let me shatter that for you. He would never, okay? Hmm?"

Something in your chest snapped at her words. Anger rose, clinging to your ribs until you thought you'd choke on it. How fucking dare she? How dare she look at you like that, laugh at you like you weren't even worth a second glance? How high did she think of herself, how low did she think of you?

But you swallowed it, burying the sharpness down where no one could see. You curved your lips into a laugh that sounded almost real, almost lighthearted, even though your nails dug into your palm under the table. "Silly you," you said sweetly, tilting your head like it didn't sting, "I was just trying to interview him for sports journalism. Don't get too talkative about fucking, though. It sounds like you're reflecting your own frustrations."

You smiled brighter, watching her expression falter for just a second before she scoffed again and turned back to her notes.

You needed to think. You needed to dig deeper into yourself, to find a way, any way, because you refused to lose. You refused to accept being invisible.

Every single morning became a routine.

You would drag yourself out of bed before the sun even touched the sky, forcing your heavy eyes open as you stood in front of the mirror. You styled your hair until not a single strand was out of place, you layered makeup carefully until your reflection looked like someone worth noticing, and you scrubbed your skin until it stung, until it shone smooth under your fingertips. Your closet was picked apart daily, clothes scattered across your floor, until you found the outfit that made you feel like you could walk down the hall with your head high, like you were worth a second glance.

And every time, when the clock struck the hour you knew they would be walking down the hallway, you stood ready. Shoulders straight, steps measured, chest tight with nerves as you waited for them to pass. You tried to look effortless, confident, perfect. But it shattered you every single time when none of them looked your way. Their eyes stayed forward, their voices low between themselves, their expressions unchanged as if you were nothing more than air. Your hands would grow limp at your sides, your confidence bleeding out of you as you glanced behind your shoulder, mouth parted slightly, helplessly staring at their broad shoulders moving further and further away from you.

The frustration followed you. At night, you laid in bed with their faces behind your eyelids, your thighs pressed together until you couldn't stand it anymore.

You touched yourself with the thought of them, not just one but all four, surrounding you, using you, making you theirs in every filthy way you had imagined. You came undone to fantasies of their hands pulling your hair, their voices groaning against your ear, your body stretched thin for them, and the pleasure left you gasping, sweating, shaking in the dark. Yet as soon as it ended, as soon as your heartbeat slowed, you already hated yourself. Because no matter how hard you wanted it, morning would come again, and the cycle would repeat. You'd wake up early, fix yourself to perfection, pass them in the hallway, and watch them ignore you.

The days blurred into each other, but the whispers always found you. Another rumor spread like fire, another story about them with another girl, and it burned you alive from the inside.

You wanted to scream at how unfair it was, how humiliating it felt that you couldn't stop aching for something you might never get. Sometimes you almost laughed at yourself, at how pathetic you must have looked, stuck between jealousy and desperation, unable to let go.

"Wow, what perfume do you use? You smell so good!" Your classmate's voice cut through your thoughts one day, her hand brushing casually across your arm. "And your lotion too? Your skin feels amazing."

The touch startled you, and the question almost made you snap. "It's just Victoria's Secret," you hissed automatically, jerking your hand slightly to free yourself. But the moment you saw her surprised face, you realized what you had done, and quickly masked it with a sweet smile. "Sorry, I'm in a bad mood, forgive me? It's Velvet Petals. But I exfoliate with Dove first. That's probably why."

Her lips curved into a bright smile, her eyes scanning you with something almost admiring. "It's okay! You look really, really, really pretty, you know? And you're so sweet. I just hope you don't fall into the wrong hands."

The way she said it made your stomach twist. You knew exactly who she was talking about, and the mocking tone in her voice when she mentioned "wrong hands" made it worse. Those fuckboys. That's what they all called them, as if the four of them weren't the most wanted men on campus, as if everyone's mouths didn't water at the thought of being ruined by them.

You held your smile, but inside, the anger returned, pulsing hotter than before. They all thought they were above you. They all thought they could talk about them like that and laugh at you for wanting something they secretly wanted too. They were liars, hypocrites, hiding their hunger under judgment while you carried yours openly in your chest.

You pressed your lips together, leaning closer to her so your words came out soft, almost playful. "Maybe falling into the wrong hands isn't always such a bad thing."

Her eyes widened slightly, confusion flickering across her face as you sat back again, smiling politely like nothing had happened.

But in your head, the thought echoed, louder, heavier, filthier.

If those hands were theirs, you would fall gladly.

The party was dragging, the music pounding but lifeless, the people are drunk but boring. You wondered for the tenth time why you even bothered showing up.

The whole campus had been buzzing about this night, everyone whispering about how it would be wild because they would be here. But the most boring part of it all was exactly that—they weren't.

No sign of the four men everyone was expecting. And for that, you hated yourself a little. You hated that you had wasted another expensive outfit, another spritz of your favorite perfume, another hour in front of the mirror just to sit there and look pretty for nothing.

Your cheek rested lazily against your hand as you swirled the watered-down alcohol in your glass. Your eyes lingered on the girl across the room, perched on the couch, laughing with a group of guys who had crowded her like she was the crown jewel of the night. She looked so damn proud of herself, flipping her hair and soaking up their attention like it was worth something.

You almost felt bad for her—because those men? God, they were fucking ugly. The kind of guys who had nothing going for them except being loud and drunk enough to fill her space. And she was pretty, too pretty for the trash sitting beside her, too wasted to notice she could do better.

You sighed, your eyes dropping back down to your glass, watching the last pieces of ice melt into nothing. Maybe you should leave. Maybe you should give up, call it another wasted night, drag yourself back to bed where you could rot under the covers and imagine what it would feel like if the four men ever actually noticed you.

"Hi."

The single word pierced through the noise around you. Your breath caught, and you nearly threw your glass across the table. Your back went ramrod straight as you turned, your heart slamming against your ribs so hard it hurt. When your eyes landed on the figures behind you, everything inside of you went still before spiraling into chaos.

Jake. Sunghoon.

Two of them. Standing there. Talking. To you.

Your throat closed, your tongue heavy, your thoughts shattering into broken pieces as if the universe had finally played its sick joke on you. What the fuck was happening? Jake and Sunghoon—out of everyone in this crowded room—were standing in front of you, looking at you, waiting for you.

"H-Hi?" The word slipped out, so small, so shaky you almost cringed at yourself.

Jake's smile spread, his gaze running over you like he was unwrapping you with his eyes. He didn't hide the way he lingered on the pink silk dress clinging to your body or the way his eyes glinted when he caught the gems glittering delicately across your skin. The weight of his stare made your thighs press together without you even thinking about it.

"Where's your friends?" He shifted his hands casually into his pockets, flashing a smile. "I organized this party, you know. I almost felt bad seeing you sitting here alone."

You swallowed hard, the words tangling on your tongue. This was the moment you'd been waiting for, the one you had begged for, dreamed of, touched yourself over. And yet, your body betrayed you, trembling as you almost flinched under the weight of their presence.

"M-My friends a-are... uh... there." Your shaky hand lifted, pointing weakly toward the dance floor, and the second you did it you wanted to melt into the floor and disappear.

Sunghoon's low laugh broke the air. He leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes fixed on you as if he could see straight through every flimsy layer of composure you were trying to hold together. "And they exclude you? What bad friends you have."

The closeness of him made your brain dissolve. His perfume, his cologne, the sharp tang of alcohol still lingering on his lips—God, you wanted to taste it, to drown in it. He didn't even touch you, but his nearness was enough to make your body tense, your lips parting before you realized it.

"Want to join us?" Sunghoon asked smoothly.

"W-Where?" you squeaked.

"Well, we can drink outside—" Sunghoon started, but Jake cut him off with a voice that left no room for argument.

"At Heeseung's private room." His tone was steady, certain, his stare locked on you, waiting for your reaction.

For a split second, Sunghoon's eyes widened at Jake's bluntness. You caught the quick glance he shot him, an unspoken message passing between them, before his smirk slid back into place. He didn't need to argue. He didn't need to say a thing. Because the moment the words "Heeseung's private room" left Jake's mouth, your body had already betrayed you.

Your lips trembled, your voice breaking into a whisper. "Yes."

And there it was—the one word that sealed everything.

Jake's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he tilted his head ever so slightly, studying you like you had just handed yourself over. Sunghoon's grin widened, his teeth flashing as he straightened up, amusement flickering in his gaze.

"Good girl," Jake murmured under his breath.

Your chest tightened, your breath caught, and every ounce of you screamed that this was it. The moment you had been waiting for, the moment you had dreamed of, the moment you could never come back from.

And you didn't fucking care.

The door creaked open and Heeseung froze at the threshold, his tall frame stiffening instantly as his eyes landed on the scene.

Jake had one hand tangled in your hair, his cock buried between your lips, his head thrown back as he groaned through clenched teeth. Sunghoon was draped across your back, his chest pressing heavily against you, his hand pinching and rolling your nipples mercilessly while his lips brushed your skin, leaving icy trails that made you shiver.

Your body was positioned like some offering—hands and knees spread like a cat, ass swaying slightly with every thrust of Jake's hips.

"Seriously?" Heeseung's voice was carrying irritation. He shut the door, though he didn't walk away.

The noise made you whimper, muffled around Jake's cock, the vibration of your moan sending shudders up his spine. Jake gritted his teeth and hissed through a laugh, thrusting harder until the blunt head of his dick slammed against the back of your throat. He held you there with one firm grip in your hair, pushing until your nose bumped against the hard plane of his stomach. Your eyes watered, your chest heaved, but the desperation inside you drowned out every thought of resistance.

It hadn't started like this. At first, it was only drinks, games, laughter and teasing, until Jake leaned forward and suggested body shots. You hadn't even hesitated; the heat of their attention had already melted through you, and Jake had almost laughed at how quickly you had fallen into their hands.

And now, here you were, drooling and choking on his cock while Sunghoon twisted your nipples until your whole body jerked with every pinch.

"Your favorite member is here," Jake taunted, his gaze dropping down to you, then flicking toward the figure standing silently by the door. His smirk widened as he forced another thrust into your mouth. "Bro, she's been asking where the fuck you were. You took so long, she already came in her panties just from Sunghoon teasing her tits."

Heat shot through your face as the humiliation wrapped around you. Tears streamed freely down your cheeks, staining the gems near your eyes, but none of it stopped you from flattening your tongue against the base of his cock, licking every inch you could reach while your throat spasmed around him. The shame twisted into a  darker, sharper, more intoxicating feeling than you ever imagined.

This was it. This was the dream. The one you'd fucked yourself to in silence night after night, the one you had burned for. And now you were living it, choking, moaning, tears streaking your face, every filthy detail of it everything you had ever wanted.

You couldn't see Heeseung clearly from where you knelt, but you felt him. His gaze was heavy, dragging over you, making your pussy clench at nothing. You knew he was watching the way your lips stretched around Jake's cock, the way your chest heaved as Sunghoon tortured your nipples, the way you looked so fucked out and desperate already.

"The rumors about us are already spreading, and you have the guts to do this?" Heeseung's voice finally cut through with restrained anger. He stepped closer, his shoes quiet against the floor until his shadow stretched across you. You could feel his eyes on your crying, messy face, and it only made your cunt throb harder, soaking your panties.

Jake laughed through a groan, his hips grinding against your lips as his cock slid deeper. Sunghoon joined him with a low chuckle, his cold mouth pressing into your nape as his fingers tugged the straps of your dress down your shoulders. The silk slipped easily, baring your chest fully to Heeseung's view, your nipples stiff and swollen as Sunghoon's thumb and finger rolled them until you moaned around Jake's length.

"Come on," Sunghoon murmured against your ear, his voice is taunting. "You know we always love sharing." His lips traced your skin as his hand pushed your dress lower, exposing more, leaving nothing for modesty.

Heeseung's jaw tensed, but his eyes betrayed him. He couldn't look away. His cock stirred against his pants, hardening slowly with every sound that left you, with every pathetic little whimper muffled by Jake's cock. He watched the tears streak down your face, the way your hand lifted shakily from the floor, reaching for him.

Your fingers trembled as they hovered against his thigh, then slid higher until they brushed over the hard bulge in his pants. Your eyes lifted toward him, glassy, half-lidded, drowning in tears and lust, staring directly into his.

Heeseung exhaled sharply, his composure cracking.

And when your palm pressed firmer against him, stroking lightly through the fabric, his cock throbbed in response.

Your back arched off when Heeseung's hands moved to his belt. The sight alone was enough to make your chest tighten and your pussy throb, your body reacting with a hunger you couldn't disguise. Sunghoon caught it immediately, his laugh was low against your ear, mocking the way you looked so desperate without shame. He shifted off you, giving Heeseung room.

"Does Jay know about this?" Heeseung asked, his eyes shifting toward Jake and Sunghoon as if demanding an explanation even while his hands were already pulling at his clothes.

Jake's grin widened, still slick with your spit as he slid his cock from your mouth. "It's a surprise," he answered simply, as if that explained everything. His hand squeezed the back of your neck one last time before releasing you, and your body slumped against the mattress, chest heaving, throat raw. But before you could even recover, Heeseung's hands pressed against you, guiding your body flat onto your back, his touch so commanding you followed without question.

The world tilted when the fabric of your dress slipped from your shoulders, your body fully bared under their stares. Sunghoon leaned close again, his nose brushing your cheek as his voice dipped. "Look at those pretty eyes." His words curled into your skin, and you whimpered before turning toward him, your lips crashing into his. The kiss was messy, desperate, your mouth opening wide for him, your tongue tangling with his like you could pull the heat out of him and swallow it whole.

Jake's fingers hooked your panties and dragged them down your legs, his eyes glued to the slick mess between your thighs. The moment he saw your pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing, a growl broke from his throat.

Heeseung's response was just as guttural, his eyes narrowing as he dropped down onto his knees beside Jake, their shoulders brushing as if they were competing for the same prize. Without hesitation, they lifted your legs, spreading you shamelessly open, one of your thighs resting on each of their broad shoulders.

Sunghoon didn't let you breathe. His mouth consumed yours, his tongue pressing harder, his teeth tugging your bottom lip as his hand cradled your jaw, keeping you locked against him. You barely managed a moan into his mouth when the first hot lick dragged across your clit, the sudden sensation shooting up your spine that you tore yourself away from Sunghoon's kiss. Your eyes flew down, wide and dazed, only to meet Heeseung's sharp gaze staring up at you while his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking with deliberate, teasing pulls.

Your mouth fell open, your chest rising and falling rapidly, but you didn't dare blink. You couldn't miss the sight of his face buried between your legs, his tongue flattening against your sensitive bud and flicking so slowly it bordered on torture. Your thighs shook, trying to close, but his grip on your hips was unyielding.

"Hey," Sunghoon muttered, his fingers squeezing your chin until your eyes snapped back to him. His gaze was dark, narrowed, a flicker of jealousy twisting in it. "I was the one who found you. Give me some attention."

Your whimpers came small, but you still obeyed, your hand trembling as he guided it down between his legs. The hard ridge of his cock was burning against the fabric of his pants. The moment your palm pressed against him, your body shivered from the weight of him.

They were massive. You had heard the whispers from other girls, but no rumor had prepared you for the truth. Your fingers wrapped around him, squeezing gently through the fabric, and Sunghoon's lips parted, his breath catching as his hips rocked into your touch.

"Fuck," he groaned, head dropping to your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin as if your touch alone was enough to push him toward the edge.

And then Jake bit down on your inner thigh, hard enough to make you cry out, his tongue following the sting with a wet, sucking kiss that left your skin marked. Heeseung's lips abandoned your clit, only to press lower, his tongue flattening against your dripping entrance before slurping noisily at the wetness pooling there. The sound was obscene, messy, and you moaned louder than you ever had, the combination of Jake's teeth marking your thighs and Heeseung's mouth devouring you unraveling every last thread of composure you had.

"Shh." Sunghoon's voice was ragged as his hand pressed against your jaw again, his hips grinding into your palm while his other hand fumbled with his belt. His pants dropped down his thighs, and when he freed himself, your eyes widened, your mouth watering instantly at the sight. His cock was flushed and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum, so thick it almost made your stomach flutter with fear.

Your legs were trembling uncontrollably, but you couldn't close them, not when Jake and Heeseung had you pinned wide open, their mouths swapping positions greedily between your clit and your entrance.

Jake was hungrier, reckless with the way his tongue plunged into you, his lips sucking against your folds so loudly it drowned out even the bass from the music downstairs. You could feel him moan against you, his hands gripping your thighs tighter, his whole face buried as if he wanted to drown in your pussy.

"Say ah," Sunghoon knelt in front of you, his cock gripped tightly in his hand. You obeyed instantly, your lips falling open, your eyes wide and locked on his face.

The expression he wore was enough to make your stomach twist—his brows drawn tight, his lips parted as if he were biting back a curse, his gaze focused entirely on your mouth as though nothing else in the world existed.

"So eager," he whispered hoarsely, his cock brushing against your lips as pre-cum smeared across them. "Fuck."

Heeseung rose slowly from between your thighs, his lips and chin slick with your wetness, his chest lifting heavily with each breath. His gaze drifted down over your trembling body, then to Sunghoon's cock hovering dangerously close to your lips, before his large hands moved to your chest. The weight of his touch was deliberate, kneading the softness of your breasts, his thumbs dragging over your nipples until they tightened again under his attention.

The combination was unbearable, your body jerking at every angle, twitching against their hands and mouths as if you no longer had control over it. Sunghoon's sudden pace had your cheeks hollowing, his cock stretching your lips as he thrust with low, restrained groans.

At the same time, Heeseung's fingers twisted your nipples mercilessly, sharp flicks that sent heat rushing to your core, and Jake's tongue was buried inside you, fucking your entrance with wet, eager strokes. Each movement pulled you in a different direction, your body caught in the middle of all three of them until you felt yourself unraveling at the seams.

Your head was spinning, dizzy from the sensation. The world tilted and blurred, your muffled moans spilling out against Sunghoon's cock, your tears streaking down your cheeks. It was overwhelming, but in the best way, better than anything you had ever experienced, better than every fumbling encounter that left you aching and unsatisfied.

This was hunger given form, this was desire being fed by three men who knew exactly how to break you. Every flick of Heeseung's fingers, every thrust of Jake's tongue, every push of Sunghoon's cock made your stomach coil tighter and tighter, until the knot inside you threatened to snap.

And then it did.

You came so hard it tore a strangled cry out of your throat, your body convulsing with the force of it. The orgasm crashed into you violently, your back arching off the bed, your legs trembling as Jake's hands clamped down on your thighs to keep you open.

You almost bit down on Sunghoon from the shock of it, your mouth clenching, your throat spasming, and he pulled back with a sharp hiss, his hand replacing himself on your lips to keep you from choking. But Jake didn't stop; he didn't even pause. His tongue twisted deep inside you, lapping greedily at everything you gave him, his head moving side to side as if he wanted to drink you dry. He held you down through every wave, prolonging the orgasm until you thought your body might tear apart from how hard you were shaking.

"Fuck, ah—fuck, shit," Sunghoon cursed above you, his voice breaking into a groan. His grip tightened on your jaw as his release hit suddenly, hot ropes of cum splattering across your face in quick, forceful bursts. Some streaked down your lips, some across your cheeks, and one stray spurt landed in your eye, stinging faintly but drowned out by the overwhelming tide of pleasure still wrecking your body.

You barely processed it, too lost in the pulsing aftershocks of your orgasm and the relentless flicks of Heeseung's thumbs still torturing your nipples. The sensation was too much, every nerve in your body stretched taut as Jake's mouth sealed back over your clit, his tongue circling lazily as he wanted to drag every last drop of climax from you.

Your sobs broke into gasps, your chest rising sharply, your face sticky with Sunghoon's cum, your throat raw from the moans you couldn't stop. And still, Heeseung's eyes stayed locked on you, darkly watching you writhe.

"I need to fuck her already," Heeseung finally muttered, already standing.

Jake stopped what he was doing and glared at him, his jaw clenched. "Who the fuck said you were gonna be first? I was the one who talked to her. I was the one who had her on her knees until now." His hands went to his shirt, ripping it over his head before shoving his pants down impatiently, his irritation burning through every motion.

Sunghoon sighed, throwing his head back, eyes half-lidded as he grabbed your shaky hand and wrapped it around his cock. "You two are always fighting about this shit," he muttered, ignoring the tension and letting you stroke him, his hips lifting slightly into your fist. His lashes fluttered shut as a low groan escaped him. "Fuck, that's it. Don't stop, baby. Just keep going. That's all I need."

"Fuck off," Heeseung snapped as he took a step closer. "You've both had enough time playing with her. I've been waiting, and I'm not standing here any longer."

Your eyes darted between them, your chest rising in short, desperate pulls of breath, before landing on Sunghoon again. He was still focused only on you, his hand over yours, guiding you up and down his thick cock. "Feels so fucking good," he groaned, his voice breaking, his neck exposed as his head fell back.

"That's why I get to be the first to fuck her," Jake shot back, standing tall now, his cock hard and throbbing against his stomach. His smirk was sharp, challenging. "You were late. I've been making her drip for me."

Sunghoon leaned closer to you, his breath hot against your ear, his lips brushing the corner of your jaw. "Ignore them, baby. Just focus on me." His other hand slid around your waist, tugging you closer until his lips pressed firmly against your neck. He kissed you hard, then nipped at your skin, his teeth dragging up to your jaw before biting again. You gasped at the sting, your hand stroking him faster, your wrist straining with the effort.

"Such a good girl," he moaned, his lips vibrating against your throat. His fingers slipped down your belly until they found your soaked pussy again, circling lazily around your entrance. The teasing pressure made you jolt, your moans tumbling out helplessly as he finally pushed one finger inside. Your walls clenched instantly, wrapping tight around him, and his sharp groan against your ear told you exactly how much he liked it. "So tight," he whispered, almost to himself, before sinking another finger inside.

"Sunghoon—" your voice broke, whimpering, the heat spreading too fast through your core as his hand worked inside you.

"Keep those pretty legs open for me, baby," he murmured, his lips dragging down to your shoulder, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. "Need to stretch this pussy for all of us. You want that, don't you? Want to take us all?"

Your only answer was a frantic nod, your lips trembling as your hand gripped his cock tighter, pumping him faster even as your own body shuddered from his fingers curling deep inside.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself too much, Sunghoon," Jake hissed, stepping forward. His hand shot out, pulling you roughly away from Sunghoon's grip.

You whined at the sudden loss, your body immediately protesting the absence of his fingers inside you.

"Shhh, darling," Jake cooed mockingly, wiping at your cum-stained face with his thumb before pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. His mouth was demanding, tasting, his teeth nipping at your lower lip before pulling back with a smirk. "Me and Heeseung will make you feel so fucking good. You want that, don't you?"

"Yes," you whimpered without hesitation, nodding quickly, your desperation spilling through. You turned on your hands and knees before they could even tell you, body moving on instantly because you knew. You'd heard the whispers. You knew this was how Jake liked to fuck—rough, from behind, with no mercy. "Please."

Jake's laugh was low, almost breathless as he stared at your ass. "Fuck, you don't even need to be told. So hot like this." His palm cracked against your cheek, the sting making you moan as he spread you open with his hands.

Your eyes flicked up, catching Sunghoon again—he was watching with his lip caught between his teeth, his hand wrapped tight around his cock, stroking lazily as his gaze devoured you.

And then your eyes trailed higher, locking with Heeseung, who was standing in front of you, holding the base of his thick cock as if offering it to you. You opened your mouth instantly, ready to take him, but instead he grabbed your chin, tilting your head until you were forced to look up at him.

You sucked in a sharp breath when Jake's tip pressed against your soaked pussy, your entire body stiffening at the stretch before he even entered. His grip on your waist was bruising, anchoring you in place.

"Shit," Jake groaned under his breath, his voice breaking into a growl as he pushed in deeper. "How long has it been since you've been fucked like this? You're tight as fuck."

Your whimpers filled the air, your eyes locked on Heeseung's as he squished your cheeks between his large hand.

"Talk," Heeseung demanded, his eyes burning down into you. "Don't just sit there like a pretty little toy. Tell us what you want. Say it."

The moment he said it, Jake shoved his cock all the way inside you, the sudden fullness making your head drop forward with a cry.

"Moan louder. Scream our names. Tell us what to do to you," Heeseung ordered, pushing you to the edge as Jake's thrusts started to slam into you from behind.

"I—" you stammered through gasps, your body buckling under the rhythm. "I've been dreaming of this since first year." The confession tumbled out without filter, every word dripping with desperation.

Your honesty ripped a sound from both Jake and Sunghoon, low groans that mixed with the slick sound of your body being fucked. Heeseung's gaze hardened, his nostrils flaring as his jaw clenched. Jake's thrusts grew harsher, his hips snapping against you with punishing speed.

"W-want all of you to use me—fuck me, please!" you squealed, your voice cracking as Jake's cock found that spot inside you and hit it mercilessly.

Jake's laugh was cruel, his words spilling out between moans. "Yeah? That's why you gave in so fucking easy? Thought we'd have to drag it out of you, but you just spread those legs like the slut you are." His hand clamped down on your arms, dragging you back onto his cock as he fucked you harder, each thrust shaking your body forward.

Tears pooled again in your eyes as you shook your head weakly, your voice breaking between cries. "N-not a slut! D-don't call me that—ah, f-fuck! Jake!"

But he only thrust faster, slamming into you, groaning at how you clenched so tightly around him the harder he degraded you.

"Yeah?" Jake's voice dropped to a whisper, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Then why the fuck are you here like this? Why are you dripping on me if you're not exactly what I called you?" His thrusts grew erratic, pounding straight into the softest spot inside you, making your knees tremble, making your nails dig into the sheets until your knuckles turned white.

You couldn't even answer him at first, because the way he was fucking you made your thoughts scatter, your mouth falling open as broken sounds spilled out. But then Heeseung was on you again, his hand fisting in your hair, pulling your head back so you had no choice but to meet his eyes.

"Come on," Heeseung murmured. His thumb brushed over your trembling bottom lip before tightening his grip on your hair, forcing your mouth open slightly. "Ignore him. Tell us what you need. Use that pretty voice."

Your chest heaved, your lashes fluttering, every nerve in your body screaming for more. "Want you—" your voice cracked, "want you all to fill m-my pussy up." The words came out broken, but loud enough for all of them to hear. Your body arched as another wave of Jake's thrusts sent shocks of heat through you, and you sobbed through your moan. "G-give me your biggest load, make me your toy for tonight—ahhh!"

Your scream broke off when Jake's hand slipped down, his fingers pinching your clit hard before slapping it over and over, sharp little bursts of pain crashing into the overwhelming pleasure. The mix had your eyes rolling back into your skull, your mouth falling open as drool slipped from the corner of your lips.

"Yes! Fuck, yes!" you squealed, your voice hoarse, your body jerking helplessly as the coil in your stomach twisted tight, tighter than before. Your thighs shook violently, your legs threatening to give out beneath you if it weren't for Jake's grip anchoring you in place. Every nerve screamed release, but he didn't stop, his cock drilling into you, his fingers punishing your clit until you were certain you'd break.

"Where do you want it?" Jake grunted against your neck, his thrusts almost brutal now, each one stealing the air from your lungs. "Where do you want me to cum, huh? Say it."

Heeseung tugged your hair harder, forcing your eyes to meet his again, his dark gaze pinning you as if daring you to answer wrong. Sunghoon's low groans filled the room behind them, the sound of his fist gliding over his cock only making the moment heavier.

Your lips trembled as you tried to form the words, every part of you shaking, drowning in pleasure, drowning in them.

"Anywhere," you gasped. "In my mouth, in my face, in my body, in my pussy—just fucking cum anywhere in me!"

"Fuck!" Jake groaned. His palm came down on your clit with a sharp slap that had your legs trembling so violently, your pussy clenching down on him with merciless tightness. The shock sent your body into another wave, your scream cutting through the air as you came hard around his cock, your walls fluttering, soaking him with everything you had.

The way you pulsed around him dragged him over the edge, his hips snapping forward with reckless speed until his cock throbbed and spilled, his hot cum spilling deep inside you in thick spurts that made your stomach twist with satisfaction. The moment you felt him paint your walls, you let out a long, broken moan, almost sobbing at how good it felt, how badly you'd needed it.

Heeseung finally let go of your hair, stepping back just far enough to watch you crumble under Jake. His eyes were locked on the mess between your legs, on the sight of Jake's cock still buried in you while his cum leaked out in slow, obscene drips.

His hand slid down his abdomen until he was stroking himself openly, his jaw tight, his breathing heavy. The look in his eyes told you he was seconds away from joining, and that thought made your clit twitch with aftershocks.

Sunghoon's chest rose and fell sharply as he leaned back, still stroking his cock at a steady rhythm, his gaze locked on you. His lips parted, his breathing uneven.

Jake's body eventually stilled, his forehead damp with sweat, his chest heaving with each breath as he looked down at your trembling frame. He pulled back slowly, letting his cock slide free from your swollen pussy. The moment he did, his cum began to spill out in a steady stream, dripping down your thighs and pooling between them.

He had never finished that hard before—he knew it, and from the stunned silence, so did the others. Even Heeseung's brows had furrowed at the sight, as if he couldn't believe how much you were leaking.

Your eyes fluttered half-lidded, your lashes wet with tears and sweat, your breaths shallow and uneven. Your body was heavy, limp from the storm that had wracked you, but somewhere deep inside, you found the strength to move your fingers, twitching weakly against the sheets. You weren't done. You couldn't be. You wanted more—you needed more. Your body begged for it, trembling but eager, your pussy clenching around nothing as if calling for another cock to fill you.

You forced your eyes open again, vision blurred with sweat and tears. And then—

"You're into this shit again?"

That voice. Deep, familiar voice, it cut through everything—the ringing in your ears, the haze in your mind, the pounding of your own heart.

Your pussy clenched instantly, as if your body recognized him before your brain could, a sharp rush of need flooding through you at just the sound.

"Took you long enough, Jay," Sunghoon muttered with a crooked smile, though his hand didn't stop stroking himself.

Jake looked up too, his chest still heaving, his hand dragging across his sweaty forehead, annoyance flickering across his features. Heeseung paused mid-stroke, his gaze narrowing, his jaw flexing as his attention shifted from you to the man at the door.

And you—your throat went dry, your lips parted, your heart slamming painfully against your ribs. Jay was here. Finally!

A soft, broken whine left your lips as your body shifted toward him. Jay's eyes sharpened, his expression was unreadable as he stepped fully inside, closing the door behind him. His gaze swept over the room, over Jake still breathless, Sunghoon stroking himself lazily, Heeseung looming above you, and finally, it landed on you—sweaty, trembling, your face flushed and messy, your eyes wide and glassy as they reached for him.

He didn't move immediately. He just stood there, silent, his jaw tight, demanding the others explain without him saying a word.

But Heeseung didn't give him the chance. He gripped your legs firmly, dragging you down the bed until you were flush beneath him, your body spread and waiting. Jay's eyes narrowed as he caught the sight of your hand twitching toward him, so close yet so far, the longing in your movement almost pathetic in its honesty.

Before you could call out, Heeseung pinned your arms above your head, his fingers curling around your wrists with unrelenting strength. His mouth brushed the shell of your ear, his voice low and taunting. "No more waiting. I've already held back long enough."

And then without warning, he pushed his cock all the way into you in one brutal thrust.

Your scream ripped through the air, your body arching violently as he bottomed out, stretching you so suddenly you could hardly think. The slick of Jake's cum inside you made it easier, made it wetter, but it didn't stop the sharp, overwhelming sting of being filled again so completely, so roughly.

"Fuck—yes," Heeseung groaned, his forehead pressing briefly to your temple as he steadied himself, though his hips didn't slow. "Need to bury my dick inside this pussy before anyone else tries to stop me. If I wait another second, I'll lose my goddamn mind."

He began to pound into you without mercy, each thrust shaking your body, pushing you deeper into the mattress. The sound of it mixed with his growls and your cries until it was all one desperate rhythm. His pace was punishing, desperate, as if he needed to erase the traces Jake left behind, like he needed to make sure you remembered him the most.

Your eyes flickered open through the haze, and there's Jay.

He was still standing where he'd closed the door, but now his chest rose heavily. He was watching you, not Heeseung, not Jake or Sunghoon, but you—his gaze locked on your face, on the way your lips trembled around moans, on the way your eyes begged for him even while another man fucked you senseless.

The sight of him like that—stoic, his stare pinning you harder than Heeseung's grip ever could—made your walls spasm tight around Heeseung's cock. You couldn't move forward, couldn't reach Jay the way you wanted, Heeseung's weight pinning you down just as Jake had before. It was maddening, being fucked this hard while Jay stood so close yet untouchable.

"Look at you," Heeseung groaned, his pace ruthless, his cock battering your soaked cunt. "You're dripping, squeezing me like you never want me to leave. You love it—you fucking love it."

And he wasn't wrong.

Your mind was spiraling, torn between the brutal pleasure flooding your body and the heat of Jay's eyes locked on you.

Heeseung's hand slid up the side of your face, his fingers pressing into your cheek as he tilted your head toward him. The moment your lips brushed against his, you melted, kissing him back feverishly, moaning into his mouth as he swallowed every sound. His thrusts didn't falter, his cock dragging mercilessly against that spot inside you that had you unraveling so quickly, another orgasm barreling through your overstimulated body before you could even brace yourself. Your legs shook violently, your cries muffled by his mouth as you shattered around him again.

Jake, still hard and needy, didn't wait any longer. He stepped closer, ignoring Jay's looming silence, his cock already heavy and dripping. Sunghoon followed, stroking himself lazily, his smirk curling as he looked down at your messy face and trembling body. Heeseung adjusted his body and hold, his hand locking tightly around your waist as he slowed just enough to grind into you deliberately, rolling his hips in a way that pressed cruelly against your swollen clit and that spongy spot inside, teasing you, forcing more whimpers from your lips even as your body tried to recover.

When Jake and Sunghoon moved to either side of your head, you reacted instantly. Both your hands reached out to wrap around them, your fingers straining around their girth. A muffled moan escaped you, your eyes fluttering, as Sunghoon leaned lower, his hand sliding to your breast, kneading it roughly.

The sensation made you gasp, your lips parting, and Jake took the opportunity to rub his cock against your tongue. You sighed in bliss, your throat vibrating as you licked the tip, your saliva mixing with the sticky fluid still clinging to him from earlier. You sucked eagerly, slurping him down before switching, letting Sunghoon feel your tongue glide along the underside of his length, licking from his base to his leaking tip. All the while, Heeseung's thrusts grew sharper, pounding harder, each one jarring your body as he lost the battle with his own restraint.

"Fuck, you really wanted this, huh?" Sunghoon groaned, watching your lips wrap around him before sliding free. His hand tangled in your hair, guiding you lower, feeding himself into your mouth as his hips rolled slowly, deliberately. "Moaning with three cocks on you, and enjoying every second of it."

Your eyes watered as you let him push deeper, your throat tightening, but the messy desperation in your moans proved his words right. You pulled off with a wet gasp, kissing the head of his cock, smearing saliva across it before whispering against him.

"Love your cock... so much," you breathed, your lips brushing the tip, your eyes flicking immediately past him—toward Jay. That gnawing ache inside you swelled, and before you could stop yourself, your whine tumbled out. "Is Jay not gonna join?"

The room stilled at your words.

Jake chuckled dryly, tugging your wrist tighter around his shaft before thrusting into your hand with rough, impatient strokes. "You've got three cocks already and still not enough for you?" His voice dropped lower, his pace quickening as he fucked into your fist. "Can't even handle us together, but you're begging for more. God, you're insatiable."

Heeseung growled low in his throat, his thrusts growing faster, harsher, punishing you for even speaking Jay's name. Sunghoon hissed through his teeth as your grip on him tightened, his thumb brushing your spit-slicked lips.

"S-sorry!" you squeaked, your back arching violently as the three of them claimed every inch of your body with greedy, unrelenting hands. The sensations collided into each other, overwhelming, making it impossible to tell where one touch ended and another began.

Your skin burned under their palms, every squeeze, every slap, every tug forcing your body to twitch and your chest to heave with broken sobs of pleasure.

"Focus on us, you fucking bitch," Heeseung growled, dangerous enough to make your cunt clench so tight around him that his hips stuttered. He cursed, gripping your waist harder, his cock slamming into you with renewed force, each thrust demanding your full attention, demanding that you forget everything but him, but them.

Your eyes rolled back, your lips trembling, but you couldn't stop glancing toward Jay, couldn't stop feeling that magnetic pull toward his stare.

Jake grunted, his hand tangling roughly in your hair, yanking your head toward him as his cock brushed against your lips again. "Ignore him. You hear me? He's not the one inside you right now—we are. So open your fucking mouth and focus," his cockhead smearing across your tongue before pushing in, forcing your throat to stretch around him again. The taste of him mixed with the mess already dripping down your chin, and you moaned around his length, gagging slightly when he pushed deeper, his hips jerking at the sound.

Sunghoon, never content to let the others take more than him, pressed closer, his fingers pinching your nipple until you whined. "That's right. You're ours tonight, baby. All ours."

His hand slid lower, spreading you wider for Heeseung's relentless thrusts, his fingers brushing your clit in circles that made you sob.

Your words came out slurred. "Y-yours! All yours! F-fuck—I can't—ahh, I can't take it—"

Heeseung cut you off with a growl, thrusting deeper, harder, the bed frame slamming into the wall with each movement. "Yes, you can, slut. You'll take everything I give you." Your walls clenched even tighter around him, milking his cock.

"I'm not a fucking slut!" The protest tore from your throat just as another orgasm ripped through you, your body spasming violently.

Your legs tried to slam shut against the unbearable pleasure, but Jake and Sunghoon caught them instantly, spreading you wider, keeping you open, holding you there as Heeseung continued pounding into you mercilessly. Your moan stretched high, long, broken in its desperation as tears streamed down your face.

Heeseung pulled out abruptly, your cunt fluttering around nothing, before plunging three of his fingers inside you. The sudden stretch made your entire body jolt upward, your scream breaking into sobs as he fucked his fingers into you with a brutal pace. His palm pressed hard against your clit with every thrust, his thumb flicking over the swollen bud, making your vision blur and your mind scatter.

Your body shook violently, your head thrashing from side to side, your voice rising in hysterical sobs that filled the room. "Stop! S-stop! I'm gonna—I'm go-going to pee! Stop, wait! Please, wait—!"

Your arms tried to push them off, tried to squirm free, but Jake and Sunghoon pinned you tighter, one hand on each wrist, one grip on each thigh, keeping you spread open for Heeseung's relentless assault.

Heeseung's eyes darkened, his jaw clenched as he kept driving into your pussy with his fingers, your slick coating his hand, dripping down his wrist, the sound of it loud and wet. His cock twitched angrily in his other hand as he stroked himself in slow pulls, groaning low in his chest. "Come on, sweetheart. Don't fight it. Let it out for us. Show us how much you need us."

Jake leaned closer, his lip caught between his teeth, his eyes fixed on the mess between your thighs. The obscene squelching filled his ears, making his cock ache again. "Fuck—listen to her pussy. She's about to—" His words cut off with a groan as his own hips rutted helplessly into the air.

Your high-pitched scream tore through the room as the dam inside you finally snapped. 

A gush of hot liquid burst from your pussy, splattering over your stomach, your thighs, the sheets beneath you, drenching Heeseung's hand and face as he ducked lower, moaning against the spray. The force of it made your ears ring, your vision blur, your body convulse helplessly.

It was humiliating, overwhelming, devastatingly good. You sobbed openly, your face slick with tears and spit, Sunghoon's cum already drying against your skin, and now your own release coating everything around you. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your legs twitching and kicking weakly until Jake and Sunghoon finally let them fall open to the side.

You curled inward, your arms wrapping protectively over your chest, your body folding small as though you could hide. But the sheets were soaked beneath you, the air heavy with the scent of sex, the room echoing with your broken cries.

"So good," Heeseung's lips parted against your soaked skin and licked at the mess you left on his face. His eyes fluttered shut, his strokes on his cock tightening, his hand gliding through the mixture of your slick and squirt.

"Get the fuck to the side. I'm going to taste it." Jake's hand already twitched toward you, greedy and impatient.

Sunghoon's laugh came rough and breathless, his chest rising and falling as he lazily stroked himself, his eyes locked on the wet ruin between your thighs. "Bro, shut the fuck up. You already had your turn. It's my turn now."

Sunghoon leaned forward, dragging his tongue over your cheek, licking at the tears that stained your skin before pressing a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"Step aside. I'm not done yet." Heeseung shoved Sunghoon out of his way, his hand already on your thigh, forcing your legs apart with a strength that made your body jolt.

"W-wait—" your voice broke, a weak sniffle escaping as you tried to catch your breath, your chest heaving rapidly, overstimulation already threatening to unravel you further.

The stretch of your thighs, the way Heeseung's fingers pressed into your skin, it all made you flinch with both anticipation and fear. You weren't sure if you could take more, but your body betrayed you, your cunt twitching at the thought of him filling you again.

"Dude, no fun," Sunghoon muttered, irritation coloring his tone as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, still tasting you there. His cock twitched in his fist, but he leaned back with a scowl.

"Three of you step back. You can't even take care of her." Jay's voice cut through the air, commanding, silencing all of them in an instant.

Your head turned instinctively toward him. The sound of his voice sent a violent shiver down your spine, your pussy clenching around nothing as though it had been waiting only for him. Your chest hitched, your lips parting on a desperate little whimper that you couldn't hold back. "J-Jay..."

Jake scoffed from the other side of the bed, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, but the flash of annoyance in his expression didn't hide the way his chest rose faster, as if even he knew Jay's presence shifted everything. "She's fine. Don't act like you're the savior now."

Jay's gaze flicked toward him, before returning to you. He moved closer until he stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at your trembling body. "She's more than fine. She's a mess. Look at her." His jaw tightened as his eyes roamed over you—your soaked thighs, your trembling legs, your chest that still rose and fell unevenly. His voice softened. "She's mine to take care of."

Heeseung growled low in his throat, clearly unwilling to back off, his body still hovering over you. "We've already broken her in. Don't come here acting like you own her now." His fingers dug into your thigh harder, spreading you wider as if to make his point.

Jay's expression didn't shift, though his eyes burned darker. "Then move. Or I'll make you."

You breathe heavily, looking at the both of them. And you—your body trembled violently, torn apart by the clash of their voices, but deep down you knew what you wanted. Your lips quivered, the words slipping out before you could stop yourself. "I... I want Jay..."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Heeseung froze above you, his eyes narrowing dangerously, while Jake let out a low laugh, though the jealousy in it was sharp. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, biting his lip as though amused but also curious to see what Jay would do.

Jay leaned closer, his hand reaching out to brush your messy hair away from your face, his touch surprisingly gentle after all the roughness you'd endured. His thumb stroked over your damp cheek, wiping at the dried tears. His gaze softened as he looked at you.

"Here I thought I was your favorite," Heeseung muttered, finally releasing the tight grip he had on your leg. Beneath the teasing, a mix of bitterness and disappointment that made your chest ache even in your haze.

Jake snorted, throwing a smirk in Heeseung's direction. "Don't flatter yourself. She probably still thinks you're her number one. She just wants another cock inside her because that's what sluts do." His words were cruel, but his retreat was obvious, stepping back from you, his chest still heaving.

Heeseung only shrugged at that, but his eyes flicked to you once more before he turned his head away.

Your lips trembled, guilt and shame mixing with the raw need still burning inside you. You tilted your head toward Jay, your voice coming out as the weakest of whispers. "D-do you want me to clean up first?" The moment the words left your mouth, your chest tightened—afraid he might flinch, afraid he might see you the same way Jake just called you.

But Jay only smiled softly, shaking his head as though the thought was absurd. "It's alright, angel."

The simple reassurance broke something in you. Your eyes stung all over again, but before the tears could spill, his mouth was already moving lower, pressing a trail of unhurried kisses along your inner thigh. Each press of his lips lingered. By the time his lips hovered just above your swollen core, his pointed nose brushing lightly over your sensitive clit, your back had already arched off the sheets in anticipation.

You gasped softly, when his tongue finally slid against you. Hot, steady, and so focused, his tongue swirled around your folds before slipping inside you, teasing your oversensitive walls with a precision that made your breath catch in your throat. The contrast to the brutal pace you'd been enduring was staggering—he wasn't just eating you out, he was savoring you.

Your hands flew instinctively to his hair, trembling fingers tangling into his dark strands as you moaned helplessly, your chest rising and falling with every wave of sensation he drew from you. "J-Jay..." His name slipped from your lips brokenly.

He hummed against your cunt at the sound, the vibration making you twitch as his tongue moved deeper, stroking places inside you that made your toes curl. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you still when your thighs tried to clamp shut around his head from the overwhelming pleasure.

Behind him, you could feel the others watching—Heeseung's silence heavy, Jake's low scoff, Sunghoon's quiet hum of approval—but all of it blurred into the background when Jay moaned against you, drinking you down.

You whimpered, tugging at his hair as your hips bucked weakly into his mouth. "S-so good... I can't, I c-can't hold it—"

Jay pulled back just enough to glance up at you, his lips glistening with your slick, his eyes dark but soft. "Then don't. Let go for me, angel. Just me."

And with that, he dipped his head again, his tongue flicking against your clit with quick, precise strokes while his fingers slid inside you, curling expertly until you were screaming, until your body was trembling so hard you thought it might break apart.

Jay let go of your trembling body, his lips brushing once more against your temple before he finally shifted back. The bed dipped under his weight as he knelt at the edge, the leather of his belt creaking faintly as his fingers tugged at the buckle.

You knew the night had only just begun, but here in this room it already felt like you had been devoured whole, like there was no way out.

"Have you ever been fucked in the ass?" Jay's voice broke through, deceptively calm, his palm gliding down the curve of your thigh, rubbing in a slow rhythm as if coaxing you into trust.

Your lashes fluttered, your chest seizing as though his words had cut the air straight out of your lungs. "H-Huh?" Your voice cracked, eyes wide, searching his expression for some sign of softness that might match the way he'd just held you.

From your left, Jake let out a muffled laugh, the sound harsh against the fragile silence that followed your confusion.

Jay's hand didn't falter. He pressed a little higher on your thigh, the pads of his fingers stroking, teasing, until finally one circled lower, grazing a place that had never been touched this way before.

His tone was as gentle as before, almost sickeningly so. "I asked," he repeated slowly, "have you ever been fucked in your ass, angel?"

The tip of his finger brushed against your rim and you gasped, the breath caught sharp in your throat as heat and panic flared all at once. Your body jolted, betraying you. You couldn't even find the words, your head turning automatically toward the other three. Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon—all three watching you intently, not a single one offering you an escape.

You shook your head quickly, shame coloring your cheeks as your voice finally stumbled out. "N-No..."

Jay's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "On your arms and knees, then. I'll be gentle with you."

The smile was soft, but you could already feel the deception in it. You should've known by now—Jay only looked gentle when he wanted you to obey.

Your tears hadn't even dried when you felt his finger pressing more firmly at your rim, the tight, foreign intrusion making your body stiffen. The burn was immediate, sharp, a sensation your body didn't know how to handle. He twisted his finger slowly, deliberately, and the stretch made you whimper, your hands clawing desperately at the sheets.

"C-can't take it," you cried, shaking your head, your vision blurring again. Your body writhed under him, desperate for someone—anyone—to stop him.

"Hurts, Sunghoon. It hurts!" Your arm reached blindly for him, searching for comfort.

And Sunghoon leaned in instantly, catching your reaching hand, his lips brushing your temple in mock sympathy. "Shh," he cooed, the sound almost tender if not for the wicked edge beneath it. "I thought you were a good girl? You've been dreaming about us for so long, haven't you? This is what you wanted."

Your sobs shook your chest, but your body betrayed you again—clenching around Jay's finger, trembling from every deliberate twist.

On your other side, Heeseung moved closer, crouching low until his chest brushed against your arm. He caught your free hand and guided it toward him, pressing your palm around his cock.  "Come on, baby. Use those hands. Don't just cry. Make yourself useful while Jay breaks you in."

Jay's finger pushed deeper, the slow stretch pulling another ragged sob from your throat. He watched you closely, his jaw tight, his cock already heavy in his hand as he stroked it lazily. His lips curved again, "relax, angel. Breathe. I'll make it hurt less if you beg me properly."

When Jay finally pulled his finger free, your body sagged in relief—but it was short-lived. The sharp tear of foil reached your ears, and your stomach flipped as the sound registered. You forced your head to lift, desperate to see him, but Sunghoon's hand kept you locked in place, his grip so firm on your hair that you couldn't move. He angled you down toward Heeseung's cock again, your mouth spreading open around him until you gagged.

You heard the faint snap of latex as Jay rolled the condom down his thick length, the squirt of lube slicking the air before his fist wrapped around himself, stroking with slow pumps. You tried to tilt your head to catch a glimpse, but Sunghoon tugged hard, forcing you to choke around Heeseung's cock. Your throat tightened painfully as you coughed against the intrusion.

"Hmp—!" Your cry was muffled, spilling against Heeseung's cock as Jay pressed forward. The blunt head of his cock nudged against your rim, stretching you in ways you weren't prepared for.

Jay's groan vibrated through the room, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he pushed deeper, inch by inch. His hands gripped your ass, spreading you wider, making you tremble as the burn ignited again.

Your throat was stuffed with Heeseung's cock, and every shallow thrust into your mouth came with another humiliating gulp, gulp, gulp. Each noise mingled with Jay's ragged breathing as he sank himself slowly into your ass.

By the time his cock buried itself halfway, your hands had flown to Heeseung's thighs in desperation, nails scratching down his skin as your throat tried to adjust. Heeseung hissed sharply at the sting, then abruptly pulled out, your mouth gasping for air as you coughed and sobbed.

"Bitch," he spat, slapping your cheek with enough force to sting. Your head tilted from the impact, tears spilling harder as you whimpered against the mattress, your body trembling uncontrollably.

The sound of the slap cracked through the room—and the shift in the air was instant. Jay froze, his dark eyes snapping up, his jaw tight. Slowly, he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, his cock still halfway inside your ass as he fixed his glare on Heeseung.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?"

"She fucking scratched me—" Heeseung started.

Jay's glare sharpened, cutting him off. His hand curled around your hip, steadying you as he leaned closer until his lips brushed your ear, his words meant for both you and Heeseung. "Apologize. To her. Now."

Heeseung's jaw flexed, annoyance flashing in his eyes, but under Jay's burning stare, he finally muttered, "...Sorry."

You sniffled, your face pressed to the sheets, too shaken to respond. Jay's grip on your hip softened just enough for his thumb to caress you. "You okay, hmm?"

You swallowed hard, unable to find your voice, and forced yourself to nod against the sheets. Your chest rose and fell in shuddering waves, but you needed him to believe you could take it.

Jay hummed softly, almost like praise. "That's it. Breathe for me, angel. Let me in. Don't hold back." His hips pressed forward again. The intrusion stretched you open slowly, your body fighting to keep up with his size. The burn sharpened into an unbearable sting, and you screamed into the mattress, toes curling tight against the sheets as you struggled not to collapse.

Sunghoon's hand smoothed over your hair, patting your head with a tenderness, so comforting that make you whimper. "Good girl," he whispered, as though you needed his approval just to keep breathing.

Then Heeseung moved closer, his hand sliding between your thighs to press against your soaked pussy.

"Sorry, baby." His palm cupped you carefully, you flinched at first, but when he leaned in, his lips closing over your nipple, sucking hard, the sharp edge of pain dulled under a rush of pleasure. The shift made your back arch violently, the cry that tore from you high and desperate.

"Ahh! F-fuck!" you screamed, voice cracking, torn between pain and bliss.

Jay grunted at the way your body squeezed around him, his hand wrapping tightly around your arm to pull it back behind you like a lever. His other hand gripped your shoulder firmly, anchoring you while his hips snapped forward with force. Each thrust sent a wet smack echoing through the room, skin colliding with a punishing rhythm.

Heeseung groaned against your chest, his tongue flicking over your nipple as his fingers pressed harder into your clit, rubbing circles that sent shocks of sensation racing through your trembling body. The mixture of Jay's brutal thrusts and Heeseung's eager mouth had you thrashing.

You never thought being filled that way could drag such a storm out of you. The sting that had first made you sob now twisted into something overwhelming, a blend of fire and honey that made your body betray you with every clench. Each thrust blurred the line between pain and euphoria until you couldn't separate one from the other, only the dizzy rush that kept forcing cries from your throat.

At some point, you lost track of who was where.

You were a doll passed between them, shifted and handled, your body too pliant to resist, too consumed by sensation to understand the movement until it was already happening.

When Jay lifted you with an arm hooked under your ribs, carrying your trembling weight as though you were light as air, your limbs hung loose, hair falling forward like a curtain, your head lolling against his chest. The world was hazy, sound muffled except for their voices and the unrelenting rhythm of flesh against flesh.

You moaned uncontrollably, the sound spilling out of you even before Sunghoon pushed inside your swollen pussy. He didn't wait, he didn't tease—he slid in deep, and the stretch dragged another cry out of your throat.

Jake positioned himself over you, his hands squeezing your tits roughly, pressing them together around the length of his cock. He thrusted between them with a feral need, groaning at the slick heat as he forced you to keep your trembling arms raised so you couldn't rest, so none of them were ignored.

Your muscles screamed, the burn in your shoulders mixing with the fire between your legs. Yet the harder it became to hold on, the more your moans broke apart into helpless sobs.

"Shit! So fucking good!" Sunghoon moaned, usually he was silent, the one who held back while the others filled the air, but now his restraint had shattered. His moans came rough and guttural, pulled from his chest with every thrust, his expression twisting into something close to pure bliss. Each time his hips met yours, the sound that tore from his throat was louder, rawer, until you realized he was trembling too—losing himself in you just as much as you were unraveling under him.

Your vision blurred at the edges, tears clinging to your lashes, the ringing in your ears drowning out everything but their voices and the wet sounds of bodies colliding. Orgasms tore through you one after another, piling so fast you couldn't separate them anymore. You were trapped in the spiral of it, begging without thought, "Y-yes, fuck, yes—I can't stop—I need it—please, don't stop!"

Your body betrayed you completely, arching up even as you wanted to collapse. The adhesive gems clinging to your eyelids sparkled faintly under the light, miraculously still in place as your eyes rolled back, your tongue slipping free from your mouth with no strength left to hold it in. You were a mess, unrecognizable even to yourself, but they devoured every second of it.

Jake groaned low in his chest as his cock pulsed, spilling over your tits, hot ropes covering your skin until you were painted in him. He slapped your chest once more, watching it smear across your breasts before stumbling back, his body giving out as he dropped onto the mattress, panting heavily, drained but satisfied.

The moment you were freed from him, your lips were claimed again. Heeseung and Jay's mouths fought for space against yours, kissing you with different kinds of urgency—Jay deep and consuming, Heeseung sharp and demanding. Their lips pulled moans out of you you didn't even know you had left, your eyes shut tight as your mouth parted helplessly between them.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon's cock dragged deeper inside you, angling until it brushed that spot that made your whole body spasm. The rhythm of his thrusts grew steadier, more desperate, his hips slamming into you with a pace that made your chest heave and your breath hitch against the mouths kissing yours. He was unrelenting, he couldn't stop himself, your body had unlocked something in him he never wanted to let go of.

Sunghoon's control shattered first. His jaw clenched, veins standing out along his neck as he pushed deeper, his movements rough and unsteady, every thrust dragging a desperate sound from him. His eyes squeezed shut and his head tilted back, a moan ripping from his throat as his stomach tightened, the pleasure consuming him faster than he could handle. He bit down on his lip, but it wasn't enough to stifle the way his body shook while his cock throbbed violently inside you.

You felt the hot flood of his release filling you in long, uncontrollable spurts. It spread thick through your core, making your walls clench tighter as though your body wanted to keep him there, to hold every drop.

The sensation was so overwhelming that your back arched high into Jay's chest. He caught you easily, his large hand spreading over your breast and kneading. His lips swallowed your broken moans, his tongue sliding deep until you whimpered against him, unable to keep up.

Your hips jerked when Sunghoon finally spilled the last of his release, the force of it pushing some of his cum to seep out around his cock. He slumped forward, chest heaving, but his grip on your waist betrayed his reluctance to leave you. He wanted to stay buried, to keep claiming you—but his body gave out, and with a low groan he pulled free, his length glistening as it slid from your swollen cunt.

The loss of him left you trembling, and before you could even breathe, Heeseung was already there. His hand slid between your thighs, fingers parting your slick folds without hesitation. He rubbed over your swollen clit in tight circles, faster, sharper, and your lips tore away from Jay's kiss to scream, your cry echoing through the room as a new wave of sensation tore through you.

Sunghoon's cum was still dripping from your pussy when Heeseung's fingers slapped against your sensitive clit. The sharp sting made your hips spasm, jerking upward uncontrollably, the sound of the wet slap filling the room. Your thighs shook, but Jay's hand on your chest kept you pressed firmly against him, forcing you to take it all.

"So fucking hot," Jay groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing your neck before biting down just enough to leave a mark. He soothed the bite with his tongue before sucking at the spot, leaving his claim branded into your skin while you cried softly beneath him.

"Come on," Heeseung coaxed. He gave your clit another sharp slap that made you gasp, your entire body twitching. "Breathe. Deep. You've still got two cocks waiting for you."

Your body was trembling, the exhaustion in your muscles fighting against the need clawing through your veins. Every part of you screamed for a pause, a moment of stillness, but your lips betrayed you, spilling soft, broken words into the heated air.

"...cock... want more..." you whispered, not even sure if you meant to say it out loud, but the second it left your mouth, they moved.

They shifted you onto Heeseung first, his broad chest rising under your palms as he positioned himself at your entrance. Your thighs burned as you straddled him, but you couldn't stop yourself from lowering down, grinding until his thick tip slid past your folds, the friction making your entire body quiver.

Heeseung's eyes darkened immediately, his hands gripping your waist as he guided you, feeling the way your heat stretched around him.

Jay stood behind you, his movements methodical as he tore open another condom with his teeth. He rolled the latex down over his length with one hand, the other already spreading over your lower back, holding you steady. His touch was careful, deceptively gentle, even as you felt the blunt press of his cock teasing your other entrance.

The stretch made you scream, your head snapping back to his shoulder as his cock slowly pushed inside your ass. Your tits arched forward, bouncing in Heeseung's face, and he groaned like he was seeing heaven itself, his mouth immediately latching onto one nipple. His tongue flicked hard before he began sucking greedily, moaning against your skin, drowning himself in the taste of you might keep him from unraveling completely.

He told himself not to get attached, not to think beyond the raw act of it but as he looked up, catching the sight of your face twisted with both pain and euphoria, your lashes damp with tears, your lips parted, your flushed cheeks glowing, he was gone. So fucking pretty, too pretty for this. His chest tightened, his teeth sinking into his lip, half-lidded eyes watching you lose yourself while he thrust up into you.

"Ahh—fuck! S-so good! Feels so good!" you sobbed, your voice breaking as both of them found their rhythm inside you.

Jay's arm slid tighter around your middle, pulling you back against him, while his other hand anchored hard on your shoulder.

Each drive of his hips made your body lurch forward, and every time he withdrew, Heeseung thrust upward to meet you, their cocks colliding through the thin barrier inside you. The pressure was relentless, unbearable yet addicting. You felt so full, so completely wrecked, yet you didn't want them to stop.

Your head fell back against Jay's shoulder, your throat exposed, your lips trembling as the sounds poured out of you unrestrained. His gaze locked onto you, never wavering, watching every twitch of your brows, every flutter of your lashes, every blissful break in your voice.

His stomach coiled tight when he saw you smile through your moans, blissful grin that said you were floating in a haze beyond reason.

And then—when you let out a delirious laugh, drunk on cock and pleasure—both he and Heeseung nearly lost control.

"Shit... fuck, look at her," Heeseung moaned against your chest, thrusts erratic as your pussy clenched harder, milking him. His thumb found your clit again, circling with ruthless precision, making your hips twitch violently in their hold.

"Fucking cockdrunk," Jake muttered from the side, his voice strained, his hand already wrapped tight around his cock as he stroked himself, eyes devouring the sight of you stuffed full between Jay and Heeseung.

"Unbelievable..." Sunghoon hissed, though his body betrayed his words as his cock hardened again at the sight. His chest rose sharply, his jaw tightening as his eyes burned into you, unable to look away.

And you—you were flying. Your entire body trembled, sweat dripping down your back, every nerve set alight as two cocks pounded into you in perfect rhythm, stretching you in ways you never thought you could handle. You weren't just moaning anymore—you were laughing, delirious, euphoric, because nothing had ever felt this good. The world outside didn't exist. There was only this. Only them. Only the way your body sang under their hands, under their cocks.

You were living your best fucking life, and in that moment, you knew you never wanted it to end.

"Shit—I'm gonna cum," Heeseung groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as his thrusts grew uneven. You couldn't help yourself, couldn't stop your body from pushing back onto his cock, greedy for every last inch.

"Need it—please, I need you to cum inside me—don't hold back," you moaned.

Jay tightened his bicep around your throat, dragging you flush against him as his lips pressed against your temple. "Take it, angel. Take all of him."

The heat in your chest exploded when Heeseung moaned loud and emptied inside you. The sound of his voice made your heart lurch even as your own orgasm tore through you again. Your walls clenched so violently that his cock twitched helplessly, spilling thicker and thicker ropes of cum until you could feel the weight of it stretching your stomach. The mess spilled from the corners of your folds, warm streams dripping down your thighs.

But before the haze could settle, Jay's voice cut through. "Pull out, Heeseung. It's my turn—I want to cum in her too." His arm around your throat tightened, pulling you higher onto him, your back arching as his cock slid free from your ass, still painfully hard.

Heeseung hesitated, his chest heaving, his eyes narrowing like he didn't want to let go of the heat he'd buried himself in. He gave a sharp exhale of frustration but finally withdrew, his cock wet and shining as he let you slip from him.

Jay didn't waste a second. He yanked off the condom, tossing it carelessly aside, then pushed his length inside your pussy still dripping with Heeseung's load. The stretch burned, but the mix of fluids made him slide in effortlessly, and the sensation had your toes curling instantly.

"Fuck—fuck, she's so wet," Jay groaned, his forehead pressing against the side of your head. His pace was punishing, his hips snapping against your ass as his hand gripped your hip to anchor himself.

"Can't hold it—gonna fill you—"

The moment he buried himself deep, his body stiffened, and he spilled hot inside you. His growl vibrated against your ear, the sound of his release mixing with your own helpless moans. You could feel it, the pulse of his cock as he filled you so completely that the mix of him and Heeseung spilled back out, dripping into a sticky mess beneath you.

It took a long moment before they both released you, your body sagging limp between them. You barely had the strength to move when Jake stepped forward, his hand already pumping his length with urgency, his eyes locked on your face. Sunghoon moved with him, their cocks standing tall, both of them crowding your view as you were laid down on your back.

"Open up, baby," Jake ordered.

Your lips parted, tongue falling out on instinct, the salty taste of precum already smearing across it as they fisted themselves harder. Their groans overlapped as thick spurts painted your cheeks, your forehead, your lips, dripping down your neck and into your hair. You swallowed what you could, eyes rolling back at the sheer dirtiness of it, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each ragged breath.

You stared blankly at the ceiling, vision hazy, ears ringing so loud it felt like you were underwater. Your head was spinning, the room tilting, but your body was already being turned again.

Your limbs flopped uselessly as Jake forced his cock back to hardness, guiding himself to your ass, while Heeseung gripped your legs wide, holding you open as though your exhaustion didn't matter.

One by one, they took their turns again, each of them sliding into your abused body, spilling more inside until it felt like there wasn't any part of you left untouched. Your mind was gone, floating somewhere else, your mouth hanging open without sound, and still, they didn't stop.

The last thing you remembered was Sunghoon's icy hands spreading your folds, his voice low with awe as he stared at the mess dripping from your swollen used pussy—thick white streams still spurting.

And then you passed out, swallowed by the overwhelming haze of pleasure and exhaustion, your body twitching even in unconsciousness, your mind lost in the aftershocks of everything they had done.

You woke with a body that felt heavier than stone, every inch aching. The room was quiet except for the soft snores surrounding you.

You shivered, realizing the air was cold against your damp hair and clammy skin, only to notice the weight of arms draped over you—two different hands anchoring you in place. One was around your waist, pulling you back into a solid chest, the other rested lazily on your hip.

You blinked hard, trying to gather yourself, and only then did you notice you were clothed, though barely. Someone had slipped a shirt over you, but it was hiked up high, baring most of your thighs. Heart pounding, you tilted your head, your breath catching when you saw Jay's face so close to yours. His features were peaceful, his brows relaxed, lips parted just slightly as a soft groan escaped him. Even in sleep, he pulled you tighter into his chest.

"What the fuck..." you whispered under your breath, pulse racing as heat rushed to your cheeks.

Your gaze dropped lower and froze. Sunghoon's head rested against your chest, lips slack and still attached to your nipple. His hand was curled around your waist too, fingers twitching. The memory of his face twisted in pleasure, his voice breaking with moans, hit you so hard that your thighs clenched instinctively.

You stifled a sound, your whole face burning.

Carefully, with your fingers trembling, you began to pry their hands off one by one, moving Jay's arm and slipping Sunghoon's hand back over his own body. It felt like sneaking out of something you weren't supposed to survive. But before you could breathe in relief, your eyes darted downward—and you almost screamed.

At the foot of the bed, sprawled across like he owned the space, was Jake. His cheek was pressed into the mattress, lips parted as he breathed heavily, his bare chest rising and falling. He looked so soft like this, so far from the rough, taunting voice that had wrecked you just hours ago.

Your stomach flipped.

"What the hell..." you whispered again, a little louder this time, biting your lip as panic swirled in your chest. You couldn't stay here. Not with the memories flashing in your head.

Ignoring the deep ache in your thighs and the heaviness weighing down your limbs, you tiptoed around them, snatching your heels and dress from the table. The sound of the zipper sliding into place echoed too loudly in your ears as you tried to dress as quietly as possible.

When you finally slipped out and pulled the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, exhaling sharply. Relief barely lasted a second before you froze again.

Someone was sitting in the living room.

Heeseung was perched on the couch, phone in hand, his tall frame hunched slightly forward. The glow of the screen lit his sharp features, but the second the door clicked shut, his head snapped up. His eyes widened as if he hadn't expected you to actually walk out. In a blur, he was standing, pocketing his phone.

"Hey," his voice came out softer than you remembered.

Your whole body stiffened, eyes wide, your pulse hammering in your throat. The room was quiet but the weight of his presence filled it, and you could feel your heart fluttering in panic—or maybe dangerously close to longing.

"It's just five-thirty," he said, glancing briefly at the window where the faintest gray of dawn was creeping in. "We finished at four. Are you... already leaving?"

Your throat was dry. Fuck. He was talking to you. Just standing there, bare-faced and raw from the night before, his voice carrying none of the arrogance it once did. You wanted to respond, but your mouth betrayed you, stuck in silence. You could only stare at him, your gaze trembling before you forced it away, too shy, too ashamed, too overwhelmed.

Heeseung shifted his weight, his Adam's apple bobbing as though he was working up the nerve. Then, in a tone that was almost uncertain, he asked, "Were we too rough?"

You blinked up at him, startled.

"I..." you started, but the words stuck.

His jaw tightened, eyes flickering before he let out a low sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that didn't fit the man who had held you down hours earlier. His voice dropped lower, rough with regret. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to slap you like that. I just... I got carried away."

The sincerity in his tone, the way his eyes searched yours like he needed you to believe him, made your chest ache. You didn't trust yourself to speak, your throat felt raw, so you simply nodded, awkward and small, hoping it was enough.

"I—I... uh... shit." Heeseung's voice faltered.

He was fumbling, caught off guard by the weight of his own thoughts. For the first time, he seemed unsure.

Heeseung had always respected the girls they brought into this kind of mess, but responsibility was something he usually left to Jay, who carried gentleness. Yet with you, the urge was different. It was tugging at him in a way he couldn't ignore, and it unsettled him more than he'd ever admit.

His tongue darted over his lips, his brows knitting together as he shifted closer, still cautious of your fragile state. "Do you... want to leave? I—uh—I can get my car, or call someone, or—wait." He cut himself off, unsure what offer would make sense, what you even needed from him right now.

You shook your head quickly, your hands clinging to your heels. Your voice came out almost too small to hear, but you forced the words past your lips. "T-thank you. I-I can manage myself. Th-thank you... so much."

It was rushed, shaky, like you needed to get it out before your voice betrayed the truth of how fragile you felt. Without waiting for his response, you turned away, your bare feet carrying you in tiny, stumbling steps toward the door. Each step hurt, your body reminding you of everything from last night, but you pressed forward anyway, desperate to escape the heaviness in the room.

"Wait—what's your—" Heeseung started, his hand twitching forward as if he could reach you. But the words fell flat, caught in his throat, and he stopped himself before finishing. His lips pressed together in frustration, a quiet curse slipping under his breath. His eyes followed the curve of your back, the fragile sway of your shoulders, the sound of your unsteady footsteps echoing.

"...number."

The word left him softer than a whisper, too late, almost swallowed by the empty space you left behind.

He stood there for a long moment, staring at the door you'd just disappeared through, torn between running after you and letting you go. His jaw clenched, his hand raking through his hair as he sank back down onto the couch.

He couldn't shake the image of you—the way your eyes had rolled back in bliss, the way you had laughed in the middle of it all, the way you looked at him now as if you wanted to disappear.

And Heeseung felt a kind of defeat that left his chest heavy. First, he was pissed that Jay, of all people, had managed to pull your attention more than once that night. Second, he hadn't even gotten the chance to really enjoy you the way he wanted, not fully, not the way that would have been enough. And third—worst of all—he didn't even know your full name, or what department you were in, or anything beyond that single night where you'd let yourself unravel in his arms and under his hands.

"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand over his face, frustrated at the gnawing ache in his chest. You were too pretty, too delicate, too intoxicating, and it infuriated him that Sunghoon and Jake had gotten their way with you first, splitting you open before he ever had the chance to claim you for himself. The thought of them having your "first" and sharing you so easily left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted you whole, wanted you alone, wanted more than the scraps of a night shared with three others.

Heeseung realized this wasn't just another nameless, faceless memory to throw away. He didn't want this to be the last time. He wanted more of you—your laugh, your trembling voice, your warmth pressed against him. The only thing he had left was the trace of your scent, still lingering faintly on his skin and in the air, that floral sweetness that he couldn't shake no matter how many showers he took. It drove him mad.

"Hey, I tried your perfume and it doesn't smell nearly as nice on me as it does on you." 

Your classmate pouted, watching you rub lotion into your arms after swim class. Her tone was playful, but her eyes lingered longer than usual, narrowing slightly at the fading bruises that scattered along your thighs.

"—Wait, are you okay? What's with all these marks?" she asked, her voice shifting, curious but edged with concern as her gaze dropped to your legs, then caught on your wrist where faint discoloration still traced your skin.

You forced a small smile, your hands moving carefully as though the weight of her stare could dig deeper into your body. "Anemia," you said lightly. "You know how it gets sometimes."

She frowned, unconvinced, but didn't press further. You focused on squeezing another bit of lotion into your palm, your thoughts drifting elsewhere. The bottle was nearly empty, and you hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should buy another or try something different.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since your body had been pushed to its limit, since you had let yourself fall apart in the arms, mouths, and cocks of four men who you never should have gotten tangled with.

As much as it thrilled you to remember, you knew it wasn't something you could ever share. Not with your classmates, not with anyone. This was yours alone.

And so, you smiled at your friend, pretending everything was normal, while inside, you cherished the memory of a night you swore you'd never tell.

You tied your damp hair back, the strands clinging to your neck as you tugged on a sweatshirt and shorts. A light mist of perfume lingered as you sprayed your wrists, your throat, the curve of your shoulder, even down your spine as though you could drown yourself in that sweet comfort.

"God, you smell so good again," your friend whined, fanning herself dramatically. You only chuckled and brushed her off, slipping your bag onto your shoulder before following the group.

The conversation turned quickly, as it always seemed to these days.

"How come those fuckboys keep throwing parties and we never hear a word after? It's like magic," one girl scoffed, and the others broke into agreement, voices overlapping with laughter.

"Right? I swear they must be fucking someone every time," another chimed in, clapping her hands for emphasis. "No way they're just drinking. But no one ever talks. Like—ever."

Their voices carried ahead of you while you trailed behind, smiling faintly, shaking your head as if their words were just another baseless rumor. Inside, though, your chest tightened. If only they knew. If only they could imagine half of what had happened that night. But you weren't about to let them. You had no intention of ever telling a single soul.

That night was a secret carved into you, and the four of them had reputations built on silence—no communication, no strings, no trace.

You sighed, crouching down to fix your shoelace, the chatter of your classmates fading as they moved further down the hall. One of them called your name over their shoulder, urging you to hurry, but before you could respond, the sound of measured steps came closer. A shadow cut across the floor in front of you.

You froze.

Slowly, your gaze lifted from the shoes planted right in front of you. And your heart stopped.

"Found you," a low voice drawled, threaded with satisfaction, almost a taunt.

Gasps erupted behind you, your classmates halting in their tracks.

Your eyes widened. Heeseung was really there, standing over you in broad daylight, surrounded by people, breaking his own rules without hesitation. You couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

Then, without warning, he crouched down in front of you. The tall, untouchable Heeseung—the one who ignored every girl who chased after him, who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with messy attention—was kneeling, his long fingers brushing over your loose shoelace.

"I had a hard time finding you," he muttered, not loud enough for anyone but you to hear. His tone was casual, but his jaw was tight, his movements sharp with frustration as he tied the knot in one clean motion. "It really pissed me off, you know?"

Your throat went dry. Heat crawled up your neck, spreading across your face until you felt the tips of your ears burn.

Why? Why was he here? Why was he talking to you? This wasn't the Heeseung everyone else knew. He never lowered himself like this—not in front of everyone, not where people could see. He shut girls down without a glance, his cold indifference the very thing that made them chase harder. Yet here he was, focused on you with an intensity that made your stomach twist.

Around you, your classmates whispered furiously, unable to hide their shock. Some covered their mouths, others exchanged wide-eyed looks, but no one dared step closer.

"Can we talk?" His voice was steady, but softer than you expected, almost coaxing.

When you finally dared to look at him, his eyes caught yours. They weren't the eyes of the cold, untouchable Heeseung everyone claimed to know. No, they were gentle, wide, almost disarming, like he was looking through you and not just at you. He smiled—small, sweet, almost shy—and your lips trembled against the sudden wave of nerves.

"H-Huh?" Your voice cracked embarrassingly.

Before you could gather yourself, he reached forward and plucked your bag from your shoulder. His hand found yours in the same motion, his long fingers curling around your palm. The contact made your knees weaken, a sharp rush of heat flooding your chest.

Heeseung was holding your hand. Heeseung, who never even let girls close enough to breathe the same air without brushing them off, was lacing his fingers with yours in front of everyone!

"Let's get out of here first, hmm?" His tone carried a teasing lilt, but his grip on your hand was firm.

You could hardly process as he tugged you gently in the opposite direction, away from your frozen classmates whose whispers grew louder. Each step with him felt surreal, like walking straight into a dream you weren't ready for but couldn't pull away from.

Then, as if to seal the knot of heaviness swirling in your chest, his head tilted close, his breath warm against your ear.

"It's now my turn to have you all to myself."

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[mssishipi]

woah 2K NOTES?

thank you so much, horny freaks!

[jakbbzz]

• ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ’ꜱ ᴋɪꜱꜱ 愛心 •

Pairing: 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐮 - 𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲! 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary : She’s always been the quiet, studious girl—lost in her books, ignored and mocked by everyone around her. A world of hurt she hides behind her glasses and trembling lips, convinced no one could ever care for her.Then there’s Niki. Cold, cruel, and impossibly magnetic. The boy who teases her, pushes her to the edge, and yet makes her heart race with every smirk, every whisper, every impossible touch. In a world where he mocks her and she fights to hold herself together, the line between fear and desire begins to blur. Every stolen glance, every harsh word, pulls them closer into a storm of dark emotions, where love hurts, and passion is laced with pain. But can a girl who’s been broken for so long ever survive the boy who might be the only one capable of loving her—or destroying her completely?

Warnings : Bullying, Cursing, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Suggestive Content, Fingering, Praising, Mockery, Oral sex, thats all!

• • •

You were never one for noise.

Books were quiet.

Books were safe.

Books didn’t call you names.

Your entire existence had been built on studying — memorizing textbooks, writing perfect notes, chasing perfect scores. And because of that, people had names for you. Ugly nerd. Teacher’s pet. Attention whore. You heard it all in hushed whispers and giggles when you walked past. You heard it louder when someone was feeling bold.

But you didn’t care — or at least you pretended you didn’t. You swallowed the words, let them rot in your chest, and kept your head down, pen scratching against paper.

You told yourself you didn’t care.

But the truth? It hurt.

Especially when he said it.

Niki Nishimura.

You hated him.

You hated the way his stupid blonde hair caught the light, like he was some kind of main character. It was always messy — too perfect in that careless way — like he woke up late, didn’t try, and still managed to look good.

You hated how tall he was, how he filled every hallway with his presence like he owned it. Those broad shoulders and long legs made him impossible to ignore — he leaned against lockers like they belonged to him, gum lazily in his mouth, shirt untucked, sleeves rolled up just enough to show the veins in his forearms.

Even his smell annoyed you — that stupid sharp cologne mixed with mint gum that stayed in your clothes after he brushed by you.

And those eyes.

God, those eyes.

Dark, narrow, and always looking like they were laughing at you. Like he knew how small you felt every time he cornered you.

You hated all of it.

You hated him.

The boy with the sharp tongue and sharp smirk. The one leaning against lockers like he owned the entire hallway. He had that careless aura — gum between his teeth, laces untied, eyes half-lidded but always calculating. And for some reason, it was you he always gravitated toward.

Maybe it was because you never fought back.Maybe it was because you never cried in front of him.

He liked to remind you how small you were. Sometimes, it was his words — whispered right against your ear when he’d yank you by the hair and pull you back against his chest. Sometimes, it was the way he’d snatch your homework without thanks, or the way you found yourself buying him things with your own money just so he’d leave you alone for a little while.

“You’ll always be my little errand girl, huh?” he had whispered once, his breath hot against your ear as your books threatened to spill from your arms. “So obedient. So weak. I almost feel sorry for you.”

Almost.

You never cried in front of him. Never. But when you walked away, eyes burning, your throat would ache with the sobs you swallowed down.

That afternoon, the classroom was its usual chaos. Laughter bouncing off the walls, paper balls flying, voices loud enough to drown out thought. But you weren’t listening. You never listened. Your eyes were glued to the neat lines of your textbook, tracing each word, every equation, as if the letters themselves were the only friends you had.

And Niki — he was behind you.

Leaning back in his chair, gum cracking lazily between his teeth, eyes narrowed as he watched the back of your head. There was something unsettling in the silence of his stare, but you didn’t notice. You never did.

“Pathetic little thing,” he muttered under his breath, though no one else heard.

Your bubble shattered with a sharp yank.

A sudden sting in your scalp made you yelp softly, your hand flying up to your hair as your book slid off your desk.

You blinked up to see her.

The one girl you hate a lot — a perfect storm of lip gloss and cruelty.

“Well, well,” she sneered, twisting a strand of your hair between her fingers. “If it isn’t the little nerd freak. Still pretending you’re better than everyone else, huh? You think sitting there with your stupid books makes you important?”

Your lips parted, but nothing came out. The heat burned behind your eyes, tears threatening to spill, but you bit your tongue. You always did.

The girl’s grin widened. “What’s wrong? Can’t talk? Or are you too busy fantasizing that one day someone’s actually gonna like you? Newsflash, sweetheart—no one does. Not even your precious teachers.”

You felt your chest cave in at the words. Your fingers trembled against your desk, nails digging into the wood as you tried—tried so hard—not to cry.

And then—

“Let go.”

The voice was low, sharp, and made the entire room pause.

The girl holding your hair scoffed, rolling her eyes. “What’s it to you, Niki?”

His chair scraped back, slow and deliberate. “I said,” his voice was colder now, eyes narrowing as he leaned forward, “let her go.”

The girl faltered. She wanted to argue, you could see it in the curl of her lip. But one look at his glare had her hand snapping back like she’d been burned.

“Tch. Whatever.” She flipped her hair, muttering under her breath as she walked off.

But you weren’t relieved.

You couldn’t be.

Because your vision was already blurring, fat tears clinging stubbornly to your lashes. Before anyone could see them fall, you shoved yourself up from your seat, chair screeching against the floor, and bolted.

The bathroom door slammed behind you.

And finally, finally, the sobs broke free.

Your hands gripped the edges of the sink, shoulders trembling as you bent over the porcelain. Cold water splashed against your face, but it did nothing to wash away the ache in your chest.

The mirror blurred again. You pressed your forehead against the glass, swallowing down the storm inside you until you could breathe again. Then, with shaking hands, you wiped your cheeks, fixed your hair, and forced yourself to look okay.

At least on the surface.

But when you stepped out, you weren’t alone.

He was there.

Niki.

Leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed over his chest, waiting.

You froze.

His gaze trailed over your red eyes, the dampness on your skin, and lingered. He didn’t look smug this time. But he didn’t look kind either. Just… unreadable.

You turned away, forcing your feet to move, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“Are you always this pathetic?” His voice cut through the air like a blade. “This helpless? Running away to cry in the bathroom every time someone says something mean?”

You stopped. Your fists clenched at your sides.

“You let people walk all over you. Do their homework. Buy their food. You don’t even fight back. God, you’re pathetic.”

His words sliced deeper than the girl’s ever did. And maybe that’s why you spun on your heel, teeth gritted, eyes burning.

“Shut up,” you hissed, voice trembling but sharp.

He smirked. Slow. Dangerous. “What was that?”

“I said—shut up.”

He chuckled, the sound low in his chest. “Cute. The little crybaby has a temper.”

Something inside you snapped. You stormed toward him, shoving hard against his chest.

“SHUT UP!” Your voice cracked, tears spilling hot down your face as you pushed him again. “Just shut up! I’m sick of it! I’m sick of you!”

Your small hands shoved at him over and over, but he didn’t budge. Not even an inch. Until his hand shot out, catching your wrist, twisting it easily in his grip.

In a blink, your back was slammed against the wall, his body caging yours in place.

You gasped, squirming, trying to shove him away, but he was stronger. So much stronger.

His eyes dropped to your flushed, tear-streaked face. The anger burning in your gaze. The way your lip trembled even as you glared at him.

For the first time, he thought you looked… cute.

His voice dropped, low and dangerous, lips inches from your ear.

“If you ever raise your voice at me again,” he whispered, “I’ll give you a real reason to cry.”

You froze. Your chest heaved, eyes wide, confusion breaking through your anger.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, that smirk curling on his lips again. “Pathetic.”

And then, just like that, he let you go.

Your knees almost buckled at the sudden release, your wrist aching where his fingers had been.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

You stood there, trembling, your chest tight with everything at once—anger, shame, sadness, and something else you couldn’t name.

The next day felt no different.

Same crowded hallways. Same buzzing voices. Same stares.

Your arms were full of books again, heavy against your chest as you balanced them carefully, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose with a tired sigh. You walked quickly, eyes down, as if the floor tiles were safer than the faces staring at you.

Until it happened.

A foot slid out in front of you. You didn’t see it.

You stumbled, gasped softly, and then— thud.

Your knees hit the ground, sharp pain shooting up your legs as your books scattered across the hallway like broken glass.

A couple of snickers echoed around you.

“Oh—oops,” the guy who’d tripped you drawled, crouching slightly with a mocking smile. “My bad. Guess nerds can’t even walk straight, huh?”

Your lips pressed together, trembling as you bit down hard to stop the tears. You didn’t say a word. You never did.

Instead, you gathered your books with shaking hands, trying to ignore the sting in your bruised knees, stacking page after page as if collecting the pieces of your dignity.

And you didn’t know—

He was there.

Niki.

Standing a few steps back, leaning lazily against the lockers, gum tucked in his cheek as his eyes followed every movement of yours. Watching you on the floor like some fragile, breakable thing. His expression unreadable.

You stood, clutching your books tight, exhaling shakily before forcing your legs to move again.

That’s when his voice came. Low, smooth, dripping with mockery.

“You fall a lot, don’t you?”

You flinched. You always did at his voice.

But you didn’t turn. You didn’t even glance his way. You just kept walking, your steps quick, heart pounding.

He followed. His strides lazy, hands in his pockets, smirk tugging at his lips.

“What’s wrong? Too busy running to class, little crybaby?”

You swallowed hard. Ignored him.

“Or maybe you’re just practicing crawling—since you spend so much time on your knees picking up your precious books.”

Your grip tightened around them. Still, you kept moving.

“You know, you’d be so much more interesting if you weren’t so boring,” Niki hummed, tilting his head as he watched your back. “It’s like you exist just to be everyone’s punchline. Hell, maybe even your family thinks that, huh?”

That stopped you.

Dead in your tracks.

Your shoulders tensed, fists tightening until your knuckles turned white. Slowly, you turned to face him, your eyes glassy but sharp, teeth clenched.

“Don’t,” your voice cracked, trembling but laced with anger, “don’t you ever bring my family into this.”

For a second, Niki stilled. Then he chuckled—low and mocking, raising his hands in fake surrender.

“Whoa. Look who grew claws.”

Your glare could have burned holes through him, but you said nothing else. You spun back around, storming toward your class. He only smirked wider and followed, his footsteps deliberately loud behind you.

Class was supposed to be your escape.

The one place where knowledge drowned out the noise. Where the teacher’s voice steadied your frantic heart.

But not today.

Because he was behind you again.

Your hands gripped your pen tightly, eyes locked on the board as you scribbled notes with precision. Every word the teacher spoke you wrote down, anything to keep your mind off the fact that Niki’s presence pressed against your back like a shadow.

And then—

thunk.

Your chair jolted, a small kick from behind.

You froze, glancing down.

Niki leaned back lazily, foot against your chair leg, smirking at the way you stiffened.

You inhaled deeply, closed your eyes for a second, and ignored him.

Seconds later—

thunk.

Harder this time.

Your jaw clenched. You kept writing.

He tilted his head, watching your every reaction, gum cracking between his teeth.

And then—

THUNK.

The shove was so strong it nearly sent you flying off your seat, your books sliding forward as your chair screeched against the floor.

Your breath caught. Tears welled up instantly, but this time—this time—you didn’t swallow them down.

You shot up from your seat, spinning around, your voice raw as it ripped out of your throat.

“STOP IT!”

The entire class went silent.

Every head turned. Murmurs spread like wildfire.

And Niki—he just sat there. Smug. Leaning back with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed with that infuriating smirk tugging at his lips.

“Well,” he drawled, “guess the nerd finally learned how to talk.”

Your heart pounded, your face burning with shame and anger as the whispers filled the room.

“What’s going on back there?” The teacher’s voice cut through the tension, stern and sharp. His gaze flicked between you and Niki.

“Both of you,” the teacher snapped, “detention. After class.”

Your stomach dropped. Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms as your throat tightened.

“Yes, sir,” Niki replied smoothly, not even pretending to hide his grin.

You sat back down, chest heaving, tears burning so hot in your eyes you thought they’d spill. But they didn’t. They wouldn’t. Not here. Not in front of him.

You wouldn’t cry for him.

Instead, you stared straight ahead, your pen trembling in your hand as your notebook blurred.

Angry.

Ashamed.

Sad.

Everything at once.

Detention.

The word alone felt like a punishment, but being in the same room as him? That was torture.

You sat as far from him as you could, books stacked neatly in front of you, pen scribbling over highlighted notes as if the entire universe didn’t exist. That was the only way you knew how to survive—bury yourself so deep in studying that the noise, the whispers, the cruelty couldn’t reach you.

When you dedicate yourself to learning, it feels like the only place in the world where you matter. Because in your books, you’re not pathetic. You’re not useless. You’re not weak. You’re just someone who understands.

The classroom was quiet, eerily so without the teacher. But you felt his presence anyway. The weight of his eyes on you, heavy, sharp, trailing over you like a hawk circling its prey.

Niki sat slouched in his chair, hands shoved into his pockets, gum rolling in his cheek. He wasn’t reading. He wasn’t doing anything. Just watching you.

Minutes passed. You wrote, highlighted, read. And then—

thunk.

Your chair jolted.

“Yah.”

You stiffened but didn’t turn. Your eyes stayed on the page, pen trembling slightly between your fingers.

Another kick. Harder.

You shut your eyes, a shaky exhale slipping out before you finally turned to him.

“…What?”

He smirked. “Nothing. Just making sure you’re awake, nerd.”

You stared at him with heavy, tired eyes, lips pressed tight, before you turned back around.

But he wasn’t done. He never was.

“Why do you always look like you’re about to cry? Oh right—because you are. All the time.” His voice was low, taunting. “Do you even realize how pathetic you look? Sitting there, pretending your books are gonna save you?”

You swallowed hard. Stayed silent.

Niki leaned forward in his chair, eyes narrowing. “You’re like a broken record. Quiet, boring, useless. And you let everyone walk all over you. Why don’t you ever fight back?”

No answer.

“Seriously,” he pushed, “do you like it? Being everyone’s little punching bag?”

Still, nothing.

“Or are you just scared? Scared no one will like you if you finally open that pretty little mouth?”

That was when you stood.

Your chair scraped against the floor, loud in the empty classroom.

“If you actually want me to fight back,” you said, your voice trembling but sharp, “then fine.”

For the first time, he stopped smirking.

You shoved him. Hard.

“Do you even know what it feels like?” Your voice cracked, tears burning in your eyes. “Everyone mocks me. Everyone laughs. Every single day I wake up and wonder what I did wrong to deserve this—”

You shoved him again, your books threatening to topple from the desk.

“They trip me. They call me names. They make me feel like I’m nothing.” Another shove, harder. Tears slid hot down your cheeks now, unstoppable.

“And you—” your voice broke as you shoved him again, sobbing, “—you’re the worst of them all. You make me feel worthless. Useless. Like I don’t even deserve to exist.”

The last shove was harsh, fueled by every crack in your heart. Your sobs echoed in the empty room as you kept pushing him, desperate to get him away, desperate to make him feel even a fraction of what you felt.

Until his hand shot out, catching your wrist.

In a second, he spun you and pinned you down against the desk, his grip iron, your books sliding to the floor.

You squirmed, sobbing, trying to push him off. “S-stop—just stop!”

His jaw clenched, eyes dark as they burned into your face. He grabbed your jaw harshly, forcing your tear-streaked face up to him.

“I told you, If you ever lay your hands on me again,” he hissed, voice low and dangerous, “I’ll give you a real reason to cry.”

Your breath hitched, sobs choking out of you as your eyes widened, staring up at him with trembling lips.

“Why?” Your voice was so soft, so broken, it almost didn’t sound like yours. “What did I do wrong? Why is everyone treating me like this? Why are you treating me like this? I never did anything wrong. I never hurt anyone. So why—why me?”

Each word came out between hiccuped sobs, your chest heaving, your tears soaking the edge of his hand as he held your jaw.

“Let me go,” you whispered, voice shaking, tears spilling faster. “Please, just—stop.”

“Stop?” Niki’s voice was low, mocking, though something darker hid beneath it. “After all that shoving? After all that screaming? You finally fought back, and now you want me to stop?”

Your chest heaved. “Why are you doing this to me? Why is it always me? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Niki’s jaw ticked. His grip on your jaw tightened, his eyes searching your face. You weren’t lying. You weren’t pretending. You were really, truly breaking right in front of him.

“I just wanted to be enough,” you sobbed, the words trembling out of you like a confession. “I wanted someone—anyone—to see me as more than this stupid, pathetic nerd. But instead everyone just… they laugh at me. They use me. They make me feel like I don’t even exist. Like I’m invisible unless I’m a joke.”

Your lip quivered. You swallowed a hiccup, tears running freely down your cheeks.

“And you—” your voice cracked, choking, “—you’re the worst of them all, Niki. You make me feel worthless. You make me feel like I don’t matter. And I don’t… I don’t understand why. Why me? Why are you treating me like this? What did I ever do to you?”

And for the first time, his smirk faltered. His heart clenched, an uncomfortable twist he didn’t understand.

Your sobs filled the silence. “I just wanted to be left alone… I just want—“

And then

Without letting you finish your sentence

Before he even realized it—

His lips crashed against yours.

He kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle.

It was rough, messy, desperate—like he was trying to silence your sobs, to swallow your pain whole.

Your eyes flew wide, shock flooding your chest as his mouth pressed against yours with a harsh, demanding force. A gasp slipped from you, muffled against his lips, your tears still streaking down your cheeks.

Your mind screamed at you to push him away, to fight—but your body froze, trembling under the weight of his grip and the intensity of his kiss.

His lips moved against yours feverishly, unrelenting, as if he was starving and you were the only thing that could feed him. He kissed you like he hated you and needed you all at once.

When he finally pulled back, your breath hitched. You stared at him with wide, glassy eyes—your lips swollen, parted, trembling.

“Why… why did you—” Your voice broke, too weak to finish the question.

He didn’t answer. His eyes raked over your face, memorizing every detail—your flushed cheeks, the way your tears still clung to your lashes, the way your chest rose and fell in ragged breaths.

“God,” he muttered under his breath, voice hoarse, “you’re driving me fucking insane.”

And then his lips were on yours again.

This time, your eyes fluttered shut. You didn’t know why—you didn’t even want to understand it—but your lips moved hesitantly against his, soft and shaky, a contrast to his rough hunger.

Niki’s hand on your wrist stayed firm, keeping you pinned, while his other hand forced your jaw open. He was relentless, sliding his tongue past your lips, tasting you, claiming you.

The kiss was sloppy, desperate—his teeth tugging at your bottom lip until a broken little gasp escaped your throat.

You hated how weak you sounded. You hated that your body was betraying you.

But the way his mouth consumed yours, the way he kissed you like he was burning alive—it made your knees weak.

He finally pulled away, letting you breathe. Your chest rose and fell in uneven gasps, your lips red and wet from his kiss. You looked up at him with wide, doe-like eyes, tears still glimmering as you tried to catch your breath.

Niki stared at you. His smirk had faded. His chest rose heavily as he dragged his eyes over your face.

“Fuck,” he whispered again, almost to himself.

Before you could even process, he leaned down, his lips pressing to your neck. You let out a tiny, broken whimper as his teeth grazed your skin, sucking harshly against the sensitive flesh.

“Y-you—” Your voice cracked as you squirmed under him, “s-stop…”

But he only smirked against your throat, his words a murmur against your skin. “You think you’re so fragile, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low, mocking. “Pathetic little fool… can’t even keep yourself together, can you?”

You shivered, biting your lips harshly, unsure if you should push him away or melt under his touch.

“Look at you,” he whispered again, teeth brushing your pulse. “Trembling like a scared little girl… so soft, so weak… so desperate.”

Your lips parted, a breathless gasp escaping, and he smirked against your skin.

“You like this, don’t you? You little coward. All hot and trembling for me… and you don’t even know why.”

Another harsh suck made you gasp, your nails curling into the edge of the desk as your body betrayed you again.

“Pathetic little nerd,” he murmured darkly, smirk tugging at his lips. “Crying for me one second, whimpering for me the next.”

And you couldn’t deny it. Not when your body trembled under him. Not when your breath caught at every brush of his mouth.

Sometimes the cruelest touch is the one that feels like fire—and you hate yourself most for not pulling away.

Niki’s lips pressed against yours again with a hunger that made the air in your lungs scatter. His kiss wasn’t soft, it wasn’t tender—it was claiming. Cold, commanding, intoxicating.

You gasped into his mouth when his hand slid down, icy and veined, brushing over your thigh. The contrast between the chill of his skin and the heat flooding your body made your head spin. His fingers caressed lazily, almost mockingly, before wandering higher.

“Wh-what are you doing…?” your voice cracked, unsure if you wanted him to stop or beg him not to.

Niki smirked against your lips, murmuring against your mouth as he trailed sharp kisses down your jaw. “Relax, little one… you’ll like this.”

Your breath hitched when his lips found your neck. He bit—sharp enough to sting, not deep enough to draw blood. You squealed softly, the sound half fear, half something else you didn’t want to name. Every scrape of his teeth made your body jolt.

“Such sweet sounds,” he whispered, his voice low and mocking. “Didn’t think you’d whimper for me like this.”

Your body betrayed you, trembling under his touch. You wanted to push him away, to tell him no—but instead you found yourself frozen, waiting for more. Why did it feel so good? Why did your body crave it, even as your mind screamed confusion?

His hand toyed with the hem of your skirt, brushing the delicate edge of fabric that felt suddenly too thin, too fragile. You shivered, not just from his touch but from the weight of his gaze. Niki noticed. Of course he did.

He cooed in your ear, soft, coaxing. “Don’t be nervous pretty girl..”

Your lips parted in a shaky breath, your chest rising and falling too fast. “Niki…” It was the only word you could manage.

“Say my name again,” he purred, kissing the shell of your ear. His tongue flicked against your lobe, pulling another helpless gasp from you. “You sound sweet when you’re nervous.”

Every teasing word, every mocking murmur, pushed you deeper into a haze. He kissed down your throat again, lingering at your pulse. “You’re burning up,” he whispered, amused.

You tried to deny it, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know what’s happening—”

“Yes, you do,” he interrupted smoothly, voice silk and venom. “Your body knows. It’s begging me.”

You whimpered softly, thighs pressing together for the smallest sense of relief. His smirk widened at the motion, sharp and knowing.

His hand goes higher up now, toying with your underwear before pushing them aside for his fingers to dip into your cunt.

You gasped loudly, shutting your thighs close at the unexpected feeling.

“Look at you,” he chuckled darkly. “So desperate and wet already, and you don’t even understand why.”

Your face burned, humiliation and pleasure tangling until you couldn’t tell one from the other. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. Those piercing, inhuman eyes glowed faintly in the low light, pinning you where you sat.

You felt his finger gently rub at the little bundle of nerves and you quickly shut your thighs and whimpered softly.

He quickly pushes your thighs apart again, not letting you close them, “Let me,” he whispered. “Let me feel that little cunt of yours..”

Before you could answer, his lips crashed onto yours again, harsher, hungrier. His kiss was sloppy, consuming, pulling helpless little noises from your throat. Your hands clutched at his shirt without realizing it, trying to anchor yourself as the world tilted.

He keeps rubbing your clit in slow circles, and god it felt so good, you whimpered softly into his mouth and he quickly swallowed all your whimpers.

When he finally pulled away, your lips were swollen, your chest rising and falling too fast. He kept rubbing your clit, until you felt his finger slowly and gently insert inside you.

You gasped at the feeling, biting your lip at the slightest burning stretch, but he quickly shushes you “Shh, be good for me, little one,” he coos softly, breath hot against your ear. “It will feel good, i promise.”

You decided to listen to him, without you even realising it, you spread your legs further apart for him, and that made him smirk.

He starts thrusting his finger gently in and out, making you moan softly at the feeling, “God your so fucking wet, are you always this wet when I’m around you?” He rasps in your ear.

You whimper and shook your head quickly, that made him chuckle “Liar..” he whispers in your ear.

Then he moves his finger a little faster before inserting another one, you arched your back and let out a moan.

Everything was so overwhelming, everything felt so weird but so good, you were burning, you were shaking, you felt like you were on cloud nine only because of his fingers.

He thrusts his fingers faster and faster, you bury your face into his shoulder and moan “N-Niki—please..” you whined.

He kisses your earlobe, “please what? Let you cum?” He asks softly, but his voice rough.

You nod desperately “Y-Yes! Please..w-wanna cum..” you whimper.

He chuckles, his fingers going faster now, pumping in and out, the loud wet squelching sound of your pussy made you so embarrassed.

Until slowly by slowly you felt your orgasm approaching, you felt like you were about to fall off a cliff.

You pant softly against his shoulder “N-Niki..I-I-“

He coos softly in your ear, “Come on, cum on my fingers baby..”

And you did, with a soft cry that was muffled against his shoulder.

You were panting and shaking, a mess.

The air was heavy when his lips finally pulled away from your neck, leaving your skin raw, burning with the ghost of his teeth. His mocking words still echoed in your head, each one sharper than the next. You hated him for them, hated the way he stripped you almost bare with nothing more than a cruel whisper.

And yet, your body betrayed you—still trembling after your orgasm, still weak.

Niki’s cold eyes flicked down at you once, unreadable, as if he was testing just how much of yourself you’d lost in that moment.

Then, without warning, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you empty, undone, and trembling. No smirk, no parting words, no cruel joke. He simply straightened, adjusted his jacket, and walked out of the classroom as if nothing had happened.

The door shut softly behind him.

And you were left there—alone, breathless, and broken in silence.

You hated him for that.

Author’s Note:

God that was a pretty long for a first post😭 but we yolo🔥🙏🏼 that was my first time writing smut so please don’t judge me, i promise i will get better than this.

[elikajinnie]

P: Player!Heeseung X SuccubusFem!Reader (NSFW 18+)

Warnings: Psychological Manipulation, Obsession, Dark Seduction, Predatory Behavior, Unstable Attraction, Supernatural Horror, Implied Death, Sexual Tension, Desire, Submissive!Heeseung, Erotic Horror Elements, Hypnosis, Minor Stalking, Slight Jealousy, Mind Break, Degradation, Munch!Heeseung, Mean!Reader, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, 69 Position, Touch Deprivation, Edging, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Marking/ Biting, Teasing, Dubcon, Masturbation, Body Worship, Corruption Kink (Reverse.)

Synopsis: When you transfer to a new school, with predatory intent. You set your sights on Lee Heeseung. Drawn to his presence, you find yourself caught between hunger and obsession, questioning whether having a taste will ever be enough, or if you’ll need to keep him forever.

Wordcount: 31.6k

a/n: this is just pure tension and dirty smut.. see this is why i shouldnt write during ovulation... anyways i really wanted to implement a push and pull between you and heeseung!! hope the anon who requested it enjoys! reblogs and commentary are appreciated!

Everybody noticed when you transferred mid-semester.

The school wasn’t the kind where new faces made waves. It was the kind of place where bullies ruled the hallways, nerds got stepped on like gum, and your worth was decided by how expensive your shoes were, who wanted to fuck you, or who was scared of you.

So when you walked through the front doors, like a lit match dropped in a fireplace soaked in gasoline, the entire building lit up.

Miniskirt barely clinging to your hips. Tight, almost sheer top showing the faint curve of your ribs, with one bra strap deliberately slipping off your shoulder. High stockings held by bows that matched the one tied in your hair. 

Cute. Perfect. Dangerous.

You looked like the kind of girl who didn’t even know how much attention she commanded. Like you weren’t doing anything wrong — just being yourself, all dolled up and soft-spoken, smiling politely like no one was choking on their own spit watching you walk past. You looked like every teenage boy’s wet dream as you skipped through the hallways on your way to the counselor’s office — like you hadn’t already set the school on fire just by existing. Your skirt swayed with every step, pleats dancing just above mid-thigh, and your socks hugged your legs like they were made to be looked at. You weren’t walking fast. You weren’t in a rush. You were gliding — like you had all the time in the world to let their eyes follow you. 

And they did.

Some boys leaned forward as they passed, walking just a little slower, like maybe, maybe they’d catch the color of your panties peeking out from underneath. You acted like you didn’t notice. Like the top of your stocking tugging down your thigh was all accidental.

By the time you reached the counselor’s office, the weight of their stares was behind you like heat rising off pavement. You opened the door with a soft smile and a quiet “Hi,” like you hadn’t just left chaos in your wake. The counselor barely looked up. Just handed you your schedule with a tired voice and told you someone would be along shortly to show you around campus. So you nodded sweetly, said thank you, and took the nearest chair with a gentle bounce as you sat. You crossed your legs slowly and popped a piece of strawberry gum between your lips. You chewed with just enough sound to be noticed. Just enough to make the secretary glance your way. She was older, the judgment baked into every tight line on her face. Her eyes scanned the hem of your skirt, the bow in your hair, the way your bra strap peeked lazily from under your top.

You didn’t look back at her. You just smiled softly and kept chewing, pretending you didn’t see the way her mouth thinned like she wanted to throw a jacket over your shoulders and scrub your lips clean.

It was quiet. For a moment. Then the door slammed open.

You blinked, gum slowing between your teeth, as the mood shifted immediately. Someone walked in like he owned the space — tall, lean, a little dangerous. Baggy jeans slung low on his hips. Matching jacket unzipped just enough to show the white tank top beneath it, clinging to his chest in a way that made your head tilt. His hair was messy, jaw sharp, lips set in a scowl like someone had pissed him off the moment he rolled out of bed. And that scent — clean, sharp, sweat and cologne and something that smelled like a bad decision in the best possible way.

Hmm. Bingo.

He didn’t look at you, so you watched him instead.

The secretary clicked her tongue, clearly unimpressed. "Heeseung." The way she said it — like it wasn’t the first time, and definitely wouldn’t be the last — told you everything you needed to know.

So that was his name. Heeseung. Nice.

He grumbled something about how it “wasn’t that deep” and “the pencil slipped”, and that he didn’t mean to fling it across the room and hit someone in the face.

You smirked behind your gum. Trouble. The fun kind. The kind you liked. You crossed your legs a little tighter, popped your gum with a soft snap, and waited for him to finally look your way.

It took a moment.

Heeseung was too busy brushing the secretary off, muttering something about detention being pointless and how “it’s not like the guy died or anything.” His voice was deep, smooth, a little rough around the edges — the kind that scraped against your spine in just the right way. Then, finally, he looked over his shoulder. His eyes flicked toward you lazily — maybe out of habit, maybe just bored curiosity — but the second they landed on you, something shifted. His brows lifted slightly. Just a tick. His gaze dipped lower, took in the length of your legs, the bow slipping at the top of your stocking, the gloss on your lips. And then he looked back up.

You smiled. Not wide. Just enough to be seen. Just enough to say, I noticed you noticing.

Heeseung held your gaze for a second too long. Like maybe he was waiting for you to get shy, look away, fidget. You didn’t. You just blew a slow, lazy bubble with your gum, watching him through your lashes as it popped — sharp and soft at once.

His jaw flexed. He turned back to the secretary like he hadn’t just stared at you like he was starving.

The woman sighed. "You’re already here, Heeseung. You might as well make yourself useful." That caught your attention. The secretary reached for a copy of your schedule, glanced at you like she still thought you were the devil in a miniskirt, then handed it to him with a tight-lipped frown. "Show her around. She’s new."

Heeseung blinked. "Me?"

"Yes, you," she snapped. "Unless you’d rather be cleaning gum off the lockers again." He scoffed under his breath but took the paper, turning back toward you. You were already standing, adjusting your skirt with that same innocent air, gum tucked into the side of your cheek. "Guess I’m your tour guide," he muttered, eyes scanning your figure one more time — slower now, bolder. Like he was trying to figure you out already. You smiled sweetly and tilted your head. "Lucky me." Heeseung grinned back, slow and cocky, the kind of grin that came from getting too much attention and never being told no. He started walking, and you followed beside him, your steps light, your scent even lighter, that faint mix of strawberries, lotion, and something sweeter, something warmer, that didn’t come from anything on a shelf.

“So,” he started, tone casual but dipped in heat, “this is the west wing. Nothing special unless you count the janitor closet people like to hook up in after lunch.” You blinked at him, all wide-eyed and unbothered. “How informative.” He chuckled, glancing sideways like he was testing the waters. “Hey, I believe in a full tour. Might as well know where people lose their virginity.” You didn’t laugh. Just kept walking, that soft click of your heels echoing down the hall. You let him talk. Let him show off. He liked the sound of his voice, especially when he thought it was making you blush. But you didn’t blush. You were patient. You were precise. You were picky with your bait — never reeled it in too quickly, never took more than you needed. Just a slow drip. A gentle rot. Enough to get them hooked. Enough to keep them craving.

Heeseung though… he was different. He was cocky, yes. Arrogant. But not stupid. Not oblivious. There was something about him, the way his voice dipped when he leaned a little closer, the way he tried not to stare at your chest when you leaned forward just enough to tug your sock up higher. He thought he was in control. And that was what made him fun.

He waved his hand lazily as you approached the cafeteria. “Shit food. Don’t even bother unless you like soggy fries and government-grade depression.” You hummed in response, pretending to look around. But really, you were watching him. The way his eyes dropped. The way he swallowed. The way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt like he didn’t mean to. And that’s when you decided: you were going to take him apart. Slowly. Thoroughly. Break him down so deliciously that by the time you were done, there would be nothing left of him but you.

His thoughts? You.

His sleep? Filled with you.

His hands? Shaking when you weren’t near.

You wouldn’t feed on him all at once. No — you were going to savor him. 

And God, wasn’t he a tasty piece of meat?

Heeseung wasn’t the type to chase. Or at least, he thought he wasn’t.

It started subtle. A step that landed just a little too near yours. A brush of his arm against your shoulder when he pointed out a hallway. The way his voice got lower when he leaned in to say something that didn’t need to be whispered. And every time, he’d catch himself. Blink. Pull back. Laugh like it was nothing. Like you weren’t affecting him. Like he wasn’t already circling the drain.

You just smiled softly, eyes wide, innocent, and tilted your head like you didn’t notice. Like you didn’t feel the tension in his shoulders every time your sleeve brushed his skin. Like you didn’t see the way his eyes lingered just a second too long on the corner of your lips when you chewed your gum, slow and sweet. But of course you noticed. You noticed everything. You were already slipping into his thoughts, like smoke under a locked door. He didn’t even realize he was inviting you in.

One moment he’d be talking about the gym, the broken equipment, the coach who didn’t give a shit and the next he’d be trailing off mid-sentence, staring at the bow in your hair like he couldn’t remember what he was saying.

Excellent.

You weren’t just toying with Heeseung — you were poisoning him. Bit by bit. Smile by smile. Lacing yourself into his mind like a drug. Familiar. Addictive. Dangerous. You loved playing with men. Their hunger, their pride. But what you loved more than anything was playing with their ego — their dominance. Watching the confidence crack. Watching the arrogance flicker as doubt settled in their eyes.

Heeseung was no different. He talked like he was in control. Walked like the school belonged to him. Smirked like he already had you figured out. But his fingers twitched when yours brushed his by “accident.” His eyes dropped to your lips mid-sentence. His breath hitched when you tugged your skirt down just a little. You said almost nothing. He said everything.

He was starting to feel it — that itch beneath the skin. That heat blooming in his chest. That confusion. Like he couldn’t tell if he was turned on, paranoid, or both. He kept catching himself. Wondering why he was getting so close. Why your scent made his throat dry. Why his heart beat faster when you looked at him just a little too long.

Poor boy.

The tour had ended, technically. He’d shown you every hallway, every bathroom, every busted vending machine and creaking stairwell. Yet, for some reason, neither of you had left.

You stood in the dim hallway by the back stairwell, where the lights flickered and barely anyone passed through after third period. The silence between you was thick now, almost syrupy. It clung to the walls, to your skin, to the air around him like humidity. Like something he couldn’t shake. Heeseung leaned a shoulder against the wall, arms crossed, pretending to be relaxed, but his jaw was tight, his fingers twitching like they couldn’t decide whether to stay clenched or reach for you. “So,” he said, licking his lips, “you always dress like that, or is it just your first day kinda thing?”

You looked up at him, blinking. Slow. Innocent. “I like bows,” you answered, soft as cotton. That wasn’t an answer. Not really. But he still smirked, like he won something. Like he hadn’t just lost the thread of the conversation entirely. “People are gonna talk,” he added, voice a little rougher. “You show up looking like that, walk around like that…” He trailed off, eyes flickering down your legs, then snapping back up like he was ashamed he looked. “Like what?” you asked, tilting your head. Heeseung opened his mouth, then closed it. Shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

You smiled. “No. I really don’t.”

There was that flicker — just for a moment — of uncertainty behind his eyes. You saw it. Tasted it. He was getting tangled. Fast.

“Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “You’ll survive. This school’s shitty, but it’s not that bad if you know how to play the game.”

You took a step closer. Just one. Not even enough to be inappropriate — just enough to make him flinch ever so slightly. Not from fear. From something else. Like his body reacted before his brain caught up. “Is that what you’re doing, Heeseung?” you asked gently, looking up at him through your lashes. “Playing a game?” Your voice was low, sweet. So sweet it burned.

He blinked. Then laughed under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to shake something off. “You’re weird,” he muttered. “Cute, but weird.” You popped your gum again. It echoed in the stairwell like a snap of tension breaking. But it didn’t break. It thickened. 

He didn’t leave. Didn’t walk away. He stood there, still too close, still watching you, still trying to figure out why his chest felt too warm and his thoughts felt like they were being rewritten.

He didn’t know, yet, that he was being rewritten.

And you already knew how it would end.

It always started like this — soft tension, lingering glances, their pride still intact, their minds still convinced they were in control. They never saw it coming. Not until they were too deep to claw their way back. Not until the ache in their chest had a name. Your name.

Heeseung was still pretending. Still smirking. Still leaning against the wall like his heart wasn’t beating too fast. Like he didn’t just glance at your mouth again. And again.

He didn’t speak, not for a long moment. Because he couldn’t tell if the silence between you was heavy or sweet. If the warmth under his skin was attraction or fever. He only knew one thing: the air felt different with you in it.

He was looking at you like he wanted to say something — anything — but couldn’t figure out what wouldn’t sound stupid coming out of his mouth. You just looked at him. Smiled. Tilted your head like you were curious. Like he was the one being studied. And then you said, soft and simple, “You get flustered easily, huh?” His face didn’t change, but his body did — a subtle stiffening of his jaw, the way his thumb tapped against his arm. Defensive, but unsure why. He scoffed. “Flustered? You wish.”

You blinked innocently. “Do I?”

He clicked his tongue, looking away — but you saw it. The shift in his expression. The brief twitch in his lips. He was slipping, just a little. And you hadn’t even touched him. You could. You wanted to. But no. Not yet…

No one liked a meal that wasn’t tender.

So instead, you stepped past him slowly, trailing your fingertips along the cool railing of the stairwell — your hips swaying just enough, your scent wrapping around the space like a ribbon. Sticky sweet. Lingering.

And Heeseung? He leaned forward without even realizing it. Just a slight shift of weight. Barely noticeable — unless you were watching for it. His body moved before his mind could catch up. Muscles reacting to a pull he hadn’t yet named. His head turned, his eyes locked on the soft swing of your skirt as you walked away — back toward the noise and bodies of the main hallway.

He stood there for half a second too long.

Then he followed. Not quickly, not with purpose. But his legs carried him anyway, a few steps behind — eyes fixed on the dip of your waist, the rise of your thighs, the curve just below your hemline. Mouth slightly open. Breathing shallow. Like he didn’t know whether he wanted to kiss you, taste you, or drop to his knees. 

He looked like a puppy following after something it couldn’t have.

You walked like you didn’t know. Like you couldn’t feel his stare burning holes into the back of your thighs. Like you weren’t already unraveling him with every sway of your hips. You didn’t need to see his face to know what expression he wore. You could picture it perfectly: slightly parted lips, pupils just a little too wide, ego starting to fray at the edges.

The hunger was there. The confusion. The first signs of addiction.

And it wasn’t just him.

As you stepped back into the hallways — now buzzing with students rushing to class, lockers slamming, sneakers squeaking against tile — you felt it again. That familiar hum beneath your skin.

Eyes everywhere.

Male students who slowed mid-step just to look. Teachers who glanced up from their clipboard and stared too long, jaws clenched tight like they forgot they had jobs to do. Even a few girls — not all curious, not all judging. Some looked at you like they wanted to be you. Others like they wanted you. Same expressions. Same open-mouthed hunger. Same desperation.

Ah. The gift you had — it was ecstatic.

You didn't just walk through spaces. You owned them. Without ever lifting a finger. Without saying a word. And the best part? They all thought it was their fault. Their thoughts. Their weakness. Their guilt. How delicious.

You didn’t stop until you reached the door of your next class. Your hand brushed the metal frame gently, almost like a reminder to yourself and then you paused. Turned.

Heeseung nearly walked right into you.

He stopped just in time — but too close, breath catching in his throat. He blinked, like snapping out of a daze, like coming up for air and realizing he didn’t know how deep he'd gone. You looked up at him, lashes fluttering. His mouth opened, then shut. He shifted back half a step, like distance would help. 

It wouldn’t.

"You're following me," you said softly. Not accusing. Not smug. Just… curious. Heeseung scoffed, but there was no weight behind it. “I was showing you around.” The lie was flimsy. He knew it. So did you.

You leaned just a little closer. Not enough for anyone else to notice. Just enough for him to feel the heat of your breath when you said: "Are you always this generous with new girls?" His throat bobbed. He looked like he wanted to say something cocky, wanted to reclaim whatever pride he felt slipping, but nothing came out. Just a half-smirk, shaky at the edges.

Perfect.

You smiled again and stepped inside the classroom. Behind you, Heeseung stayed still. You didn’t see it, but you felt it — the way he stared at the spot where you stood, like maybe if he waited long enough, he’d understand what had just happened to him. But he wouldn’t.

By the end of the day, you had half the school’s male population wrapped around your little finger. Jocks, nerds, theater kids, even a few who claimed to have girlfriends — all of them fell so quickly under your spell it was almost disappointing. Fetching your water, opening doors, stammering compliments. They trailed after you like puppies, eyes wide and glassy, like one smile from you could rewrite their entire sense of self-worth. Weak minds, all of them.

Pathetic, you thought, clicking your tongue as one particularly brave — or particularly stupid — jock reached out a hand to graze your waist in the hallway. Without missing a beat, you slapped your notebook across his chest. Hard enough to make a sound, soft enough to still look cute. “Don’t touch,” you said sweetly, tilting your head. “Not unless I touch first.” Your voice never rose. Your smile never faded.  And yet he stammered out an apology like you’d drawn blood.

Rules were rules. And they all obeyed.

Except one.

Heeseung.

The only one who hadn’t looked at you again since the tour. The only one who didn’t fall into orbit. He didn’t come near you after that first encounter. Didn’t sit beside you in class. Didn’t meet your eyes in the halls. Didn’t stare. Not obviously, anyway. And it… hurt.  A little. But more than that—it exhilarated you. Because his mind wasn’t breaking easily. He was fighting it. Heeseung wasn’t just strong physically. That much was obvious from the first look. But mentally? Resistant. Aware. The kind of prey that bit back.

Oh, you’d picked a good one this time.

You could feel the pull between you, that invisible thread—tight, electric, humming low in your bones. Your hunger ached for him. It called to him. Whispered to him in the background of his thoughts even if he didn’t recognize it yet.

You sat through your last class, eyes on the board, pen lazily twirling between your fingers. On the surface, you looked focused. Attentive. Sweet. But your mind was far, far away.

Daydreaming. About him.

About the way his skin would feel under your fingertips. About the look on his face when he finally gave in—red-cheeked, lips parted, his breath stuttering as he begged for more. You imagined his voice—how rough it might sound when it cracked around your name. How his hands, strong and calloused, might grip your hips like he needed you to keep him grounded. How delicious it would be to have him under you, trying so hard to keep his pride while you took it from him one moan at a time. He’d be stubborn. Of course. You’d make him cry for it. And you’d kiss the tears right off his cheeks.

Your lips curled slightly. Not enough for anyone to notice. But inside? You were starving. And Heeseung… oh, he was going to be a feast.

No—okay—what the fuck. You were going to cry. Not because you were weak. Because you had underestimated Heeseung.

It had been a full week since your transfer. A week of teasing stares, soft smiles, whispered games in crowded hallways. A week where you bled your charm into every inch of this godforsaken school. And yet?

Heeseung was still out of reach.

Not only was he busy — with whatever the hell he did when he wasn’t brooding in his oversized jacket and pretending he wasn’t born to worship you — but he had the audacity to flirt with other girls.

Other girls.

You watched it happen. Watched the way he leaned just a little too close to that loud blonde near the vending machine. How he laughed at something that clearly wasn’t funny just to get a smile. How his arm lingered on the lockers next to someone who wasn’t you. It wasn’t just avoidance. It was defiance. He was ignoring you.

And you? You were starving. You hated what hunger did to you. Made you sloppy. Desperate. You hadn’t gone this long without a proper fix in… God, weeks?

You tried to wait. You told yourself he was worth it. That you could hold out until he cracked. But he didn’t crack. So you went after the small bait. The ones that followed you like flies. The ones who didn’t resist. The placeholders. You batted your lashes. Let them carry your books, offer you gum, trip over their own shoes just to hear you laugh. You let them think they had a chance. Let them think you cared. You leaned into their space and licked the sugar from your lips as they melted in front of you. And when they got close enough, when their breath hitched and their thoughts blurred… You fed.

It eased the ache, just enough to breathe. Just enough to walk straight again. But it wasn’t satisfying. They didn’t make your skin burn. They didn’t make your chest twist with frustration and longing and something you couldn’t even name. They didn’t make your fingers curl in your sleeves with need or your mind go blank in the middle of class just because you thought of their voice.

They were crumbs.

Heeseung was the whole fucking meal.

And now, you were done waiting. He wanted to play this way? Fine.

The next morning, you walked into school like sin dressed up as a schoolgirl fantasy. Your skirt was shorter than regulation by at least three inches — black, pleated, swaying dangerously with every step. No stockings this time. Just bare legs, soft and smooth, and knee-high socks that clung perfectly to your thighs with tiny satin bows at the top. Your top was tighter than it should’ve been, barely buttoned at the chest, the curve of your cleavage peeking out like it hadn’t even occurred to you. A lace-trimmed white bra strap slipped deliberately off your shoulder, just barely hidden by the light cardigan you draped over your arms like an afterthought. Hair up. Gloss thick. Lashes soft. You looked like you belonged in detention before first period even started. And you didn’t care.

You hadn’t even been at your locker for sixty seconds, pretending to fumble through your lip glosses like you were oblivious to the stares crawling up and down your body when you felt it. That presence. That scent. Heeseung.

You didn’t turn right away. You waited. Let his gaze drag up your thighs, over the hem of your skirt, pausing — lingering — on the exposed sliver of stomach between your waistband and top. You felt it, sharp and possessive, like a hand around your waist that hadn’t quite dared to touch.

Then you turned. Slowly. Sweetly.

And there he was, leaning lazily against the locker beside you, eyes dark, jaw tight, tongue resting against the inside of his cheek like he was fighting every instinct in his body. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, voice dipped in heat. “New look?” You blinked up at him. All sugar and softness. “Hmm? Oh, this?” You tugged gently at your skirt, like you just noticed it barely covered anything. “It was warm today. Didn’t think it’d be a big deal.” His eyes dropped. Just for a second. And just like that — you won.

Heeseung’s smirk faltered. His hands slid into his pockets like he didn’t trust himself. His body leaned closer, just a hair, then pulled back again like being near you physically hurt. “Y’know,” he said, licking his lips like he was testing the waters, “most girls wouldn’t get away with that skirt.” You blinked up at him, wide-eyed, lips parted like you didn’t understand. “Why not?” He hesitated. A slow grin curved his lips — back in his element, or at least pretending to be. “Because it’s barely legal,” he murmured. “And you’re walking around like you don’t even know it.”

You tilted your head. Let the silence breathe. “Is it really that short?” you asked, glancing down at yourself with faux concern, tugging the hem lower with two delicate fingers, only for it to ride right back up again.

His eyes snapped to the movement as he exhaled sharply through his nose, a quiet curse under his breath. “Fucking hell…”

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly. Then he leaned a little closer, voice dropping lower. “You always this dangerous, or is this just for me?” 

You smiled, soft and sweet like butter wouldn’t melt on your tongue. “Dangerous? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do.”

You chewed your gum slowly, watching him with that unreadable softness that made people stupid. “You’re acting like I did something wrong, Heeseung.” 

He laughed, but it was quieter now. “No, not wrong,” he muttered. “Just... tempting.”

“Tempting?” you echoed, blinking innocently. “I’m just standing here.”

“Exactly.”

Your lashes fluttered. “I didn’t mean to be.”

He hesitated again, like he couldn’t tell if you were lying or just too pretty for him to care. His gaze dropped once more to your thighs, your lips, the flash of skin beneath your cardigan. “You should be careful,” he said quietly, like it was some kind of warning. “Guys around here don’t have a lot of self-control.”

Your heart fluttered from the thrill. You leaned in, just slightly — enough to tilt the balance again. “But you do,” you whispered, like a secret. “Right?”

He froze. And there it was — the crack in his armor. So small, so perfect. A hitch in his breath, a flash of doubt in his eyes, the barest tremble in the fingers still stuffed into his pockets. You watched him soak in the silence between you, eyes low, throat working around a breath that caught somewhere between restraint and surrender. Then his tongue slid over his bottom lip. Slow. Like he was gearing up for something. Something worse. “Pink’s a good color on you,” he said suddenly. Your lashes fluttered. You blinked, pretending to be confused. “Oh?”

He nodded, eyes dipping again, this time deliberately. Right to the curve of your bra peeking from your top, the little lace bow nestled against your skin. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Wouldn’t mind seeing where else you’re wearing it.” The words hung in the air — heavy, filthy, unmistakable.

And you…

You smiled. Not shocked. Not embarrassed. Just… sweet. Curious. Like you hadn’t fully caught the meaning. Like he’d said something silly, not sinful. “Oh,” you said lightly, “you really like pink, huh?”

Heeseung chuckled and stepped just a little closer. “Yeah. Think it might be my new favorite color.”

Your gaze dropped, ever so slightly — to his mouth, then back to his eyes. He looked proud of himself. Like he thought he’d made you flustered.

How cute.

“I’ll have to remember that,” you said softly, cocking your head. “In case I want to impress you.”

He froze for just a beat too long. It hit him harder than he expected — the way your voice curled at the edges, sweet and soft but laced with something heavier. Something that clung. His tongue darted out again, slower this time, like he was trying to collect himself and couldn’t quite get there.

You stepped back, not breaking eye contact. “I should go,” you said, the corners of your mouth still gently curved. And he watched you walk away — again — completely unaware of how fast the poison was working. Because you hadn’t even touched him yet. And still, he was already hard. Already unraveling. Already yours.

Class was boring. At least, it should’ve been.

The teacher droned on at the front of the room, chalk scratching against the board, while students scribbled notes half-awake. But you weren’t bored. Not with Heeseung two rows over and one seat back — close enough to feel, far enough to make him look.

And he was looking.

God, was he looking.

You shifted in your seat, slowly adjusting your position just enough to let your skirt ride up another inch, the fabric sliding smooth over your thighs, revealing the soft curve leading into the beginning of your underwear. White lace. Tiny bow. Pink, of course. 

You acted like you didn’t notice.

Bent slightly forward as you scribbled in your notebook, the cardigan hanging off your shoulder just enough to expose one bra strap — delicate, lacy, peeking out from beneath your blouse with intentional innocence. You could practically feel his gaze crawling over your skin. And then you glanced over your shoulder, pencil between your lips as you chewed thoughtfully, your lashes fluttering like you were simply lost in thought.

But your eyes met his.

And he looked wrecked. One hand clenched around his pen, the other subtly adjusting under the desk. Legs shifting. Shoulders tense. His jaw was tight, and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he might groan if he didn’t. He tried to cover it. Elbow propped on the desk, hand half-curled into a fist near his mouth like he was deep in thought. But the flick of his eyes back down to your legs betrayed him. Every time you shifted, his fingers twitched. Every time your tongue peeked out to wet your lips, his throat bobbed. When you pulled your cardigan off entirely — slow, quiet, innocent — exposing more of your collarbone and the soft swell of cleavage framed perfectly by your blouse, his entire body tensed like someone had punched him in the gut.

He looked embarrassed. Like he knew he shouldn’t be staring. Like he couldn’t stop.

You twirled a lock of hair around your finger, eyes fixed on the board like you were just trying your best to pay attention. But you didn’t need to watch him to know what was happening. You could feel the hunger coming off of him. Could taste it in the air.

His legs were spread wider now, ankles locked, one hand gripping the edge of his desk so tight his knuckles were pale. And every so often, he’d shift in his seat, subtly adjusting himself in his pants and then leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs like he was hiding the evidence. You glanced back again, this time more openly, and caught his eyes. He didn’t look away. Didn’t even blink. You tilted your head, lips parted like you were going to say something— 

And Heeseung had to look down. He actually looked away, cheeks flushed, jaw tight, hands digging into his thighs like maybe pain would keep him focused.

You smiled. Slow. Satisfied.

Excellent.

He was back on the right track.

You kept the show going.

Stretching in your seat, letting your back arch just enough to press your chest forward. Crossing and uncrossing your legs with that innocent look of fidgety discomfort — as if you weren’t perfectly aware of how your skirt rose an inch higher every time. When your pencil dropped to the floor you bent slowly, legs parted just enough, hips raised ever so slightly from the seat as you leaned forward to pick it up. The lace edge of your panties flashed between your thighs. 

Of course, you had the attention of every guy in the class. Glazed-over eyes. Twitching knees. Shifting chairs. The teacher didn’t dare call on you. The boys didn’t dare breathe too loud when you moved. You were the sun in a sky of moths.

But your attention? Fixed on Heeseung. Only Heeseung.

And that’s when you noticed. He wasn’t falling apart anymore. He was… performing.

Oh?

Interesting.

He leaned back in his chair, arms stretching behind his head, the fabric of his tank top riding up under his jacket to reveal the sharp lines of his stomach, the dark waistband of his boxers peeking out just enough to make your teeth itch. His legs spread wider. Too wide. One hand draped casually down his leg, fingers tapping steady, drawing your eye right to where he wanted it. You watched him glance at you out of the corner of his eye.

Just once.

And then… his tongue ran along the edge of his bottom lip.

Slow. Measured. Purposeful.

Your heart gave the faintest flutter of amusement.

So.

He wanted to play too?

You shifted again, folding one leg beneath you, skirt riding higher than it should as you leaned your elbow on the desk and rested your chin on your palm. You dragged your gaze across the room slowly past the desperate stares of boys who didn’t matter and locked eyes with him again.

Heeseung was already looking. No guilt now. No flinching. Just that calm, cocky gleam in his eye like he’d found his footing and liked the way the game was turning.

You smiled. Not sweet this time. Not soft. This one was sharp. Hungry.

If he wanted to play, he’d better keep up. Because you didn’t play fair. And you never lost.

Eventually, the bell rang. Like the snap of a spell.

Chairs screeched, papers shuffled, and the classroom burst into motion as students rushed out like bees escaping smoke. But not you. You took your time. Slid your notebook into your bag slowly. Gathered your pens one by one. Adjusted your cardigan over your shoulders, then tugged it off again. 

Heeseung didn’t move. He was still lounging in his chair like the bell had nothing to do with him. Jacket shrugged halfway off, arms resting along the back of the seat, legs spread — as if this was his throne, and the classroom was his.

No one stayed behind. Even the teacher left in a rush, mumbling something about copies and coffee.

And just like that… it was quiet.

Just you and him.

Alone.

Your eyes flicked up as you zipped your bag. “Not in a rush?” you asked, voice light.

Heeseung didn’t answer right away. Just tilted his head, eyes slow as they scanned your body — unapologetic, bold now, like whatever restraint he had before had been packed up with the rest of the class. “Not really,” he said finally, voice low. “You?”

You shrugged. “I like the quiet.”

He smirked. “Me too. Especially with company like this.” Your lips twitched — just barely. You didn’t give him much. He didn’t deserve it. Not yet. You stood, smoothing your skirt down just a little, pretending not to notice how his eyes dropped to your thighs again. You slung your bag over one shoulder and stepped out from behind your desk — walking slowly, hips swaying just a bit more than necessary as you crossed in front of him. You felt the heat of his stare trace every inch of your legs, your waist, the slight bounce in your step. But now that you were close, now that the space between you had collapsed into just a few feet, his knees barely inches from your skirt, you noticed something else.

Oh.

There it was.

The bulge pressing against the front of his jeans. Blatant. Heavy. Unmissable now.

He didn’t even try to hide it.

Heeseung sat there like he wanted you to see it. Like this was the price of playing with fire and he was willing to let it burn. Your gaze lingered just a second too long. Not enough to be obvious. Just enough to make his jaw flex. 

Interesting.

He was still pretending to be calm, head slightly tilted, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek like he wasn’t seconds away from snapping in half. But his fists were clenched. His thigh twitched once. And his cock… yeah, there was no hiding it now. You let your eyes trail back up to his face, lashes fluttering slightly. Still smiling. Still playing the part. Like you hadn’t just clocked the physical proof of his unraveling.

You tilted your head, letting your hair fall to one side, just a little. Let your fingers toy with the hem of your skirt. Like you were thinking. Like you were maybe, maybe, about to say something filthy. Something that would break him wide open. But instead, you just said softly: “Don’t be late to your next class.”

And then you turned. And walked. Each step slow, intentional, taunting — the sound of your heels echoing down the hallway as the door clicked shut behind you. You didn’t need to see his face again to know what it looked like.

Frustrated. Red. A little wrecked.

Perfect.

You knew what you left behind by the sound of his shallow breathing, the tension carved into his jaw, the way his cock throbbed against the zipper of his jeans while he sat in a desk like a good boy who’d just been ruined without ever being touched.

God, you could still feel his stare between your shoulder blades. Like he was trying to burn holes through your cardigan with his eyes alone. Like he hated you. Like he wanted to worship you.

Your steps were slow, deliberate. Each click of your heels against the tile was a heartbeat counting down toward something deeper, darker, inevitable. And your body? It buzzed. Not with fear, not with nerves — but with power. Electric, hungry power curling low in your stomach, clawing at your ribs like it wanted out. Like it wanted him. You should’ve been satisfied. You had half the school on a leash. Half the boys — and some of the girls — practically drooling when you passed by. But they weren’t him. They didn’t fight back. They didn’t make you ache like this. And now? Now that you’d seen it? The bulge beneath his jeans, the flush in his cheeks, the unsteady breath through his nose as he tried to pretend he wasn’t falling apart?

Now that you’d felt just how far gone he really was? 

You were starving.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you walked, trying to contain the smile pulling at the corners of your lips. It wasn’t sweet anymore. Not coy. This one was darker. Meaner. Wicked. Because this wasn’t just teasing anymore. This was a slow descent. A spiral. And he didn’t even realize you were dragging him down by the throat.

He thought he was resisting. He thought this was mutual. He thought you were flirting. But you weren’t flirting. You were feasting.

The next days passed like honey slipping down a knife, slow and sticky. And with every passing day, you dressed just a little more… deliberately. Shorter skirts. Tighter tops. Lower necklines. Sheer fabrics. You were art—soft, sugary, and sinful. A walking contradiction of innocence and desire that left every hallway you stepped into a little quieter, a little hotter. But all of it—every move—was for him.

He now stopped sitting near you in class. Stopped lingering in the halls.

He tried, oh, he tried, to keep his distance.

But you knew better.

Because every time you passed him, his eyes found you.

You’d “accidentally” brush past him in the hall, your perfume sticking to the collar of his shirt like glue. You’d lean a little too close when the teacher paired you up, your voice soft near his ear, your breath warm against his skin. You’d giggle sweetly with some other boy just close enough for Heeseung to hear the sound and see the way your hand curled around someone else's forearm.

And still—his gaze never left you.

You could feel it burning into the curve of your ass as you walked ahead of him. You saw it flicker down your chest when you leaned forward in class. And your scent lingered in his lungs like a drug. 

You started catching him breathing through his mouth.

His hands fidgeted in class, bouncing his leg, chewing on his pen cap. You caught him staring at your thighs so hard one day he forgot to blink. His face had turned red. His eyes glossy. He shifted in his seat again and again like he couldn’t get comfortable in his own skin anymore.

Good.

Because comfort was the first thing you took when you hunted someone like Heeseung. You didn’t just tease for the fun of it. You didn’t flirt to pass time. No — when you really wanted the bait, when you were craving, you did your homework. So you made sure to know everything. Where he lived. What he liked. His routines, his favorite snacks, the playlist he looped during practice, the games he stayed up too late playing, the friends he barely responded to anymore. You learned how he always wore layered clothes, even when it was hot. Minimalistic style, simple colors. Not because he lacked taste, but because he liked control. Clean lines. Quiet spaces. And you were everything he wasn’t supposed to want.

You knew he was the captain of the basketball team, with scouts breathing down his neck and a scholarship lined up if he kept his grades and temper in check. You learned how many points he averaged per game. How many girls had failed to hold his attention for longer than a week. You knew he played games late at night — mostly solo, competitive ones that gave him just enough control to pretend he didn’t feel helpless in real life. That he’d rage-quit more than once recently. That his sleep schedule had cracked ever since you showed up. That he’d started skipping out on things. Practices. Meals. Parties.

You weren’t just haunting him at school anymore. You were bleeding into his entire world. And he had no idea just how deep you’d gone. You could map out his entire life with frightening accuracy now — not because you needed to. But because you wanted to. Because you only did this when you were starving. And Heeseung was everything you wanted to consume. Not just his attention. Not just his body. You wanted his mind. His will. His pride. His soul. And the more you learned, the deeper your hooks sank in.

You were already inside the places he kept hidden from everyone else. In his bedroom, when he stared at the ceiling wondering why he couldn't get you out of his head. In the locker room, when he clenched his jaw and shook his head to stop himself from imagining your mouth. In his dreams, where your voice was soft, your touch was warm, and your absence woke him up sweating and aching.

The cold shower had done nothing. Not really. It cooled the surface of him, sure — numbed his fingers, made his teeth chatter, left water running down his back like punishment. 

But inside? He was burning.

Heeseung sat on the edge of his bed, towel wrapped low around his waist, hair dripping onto the clean sheets he’d just changed that morning and all he could think about was you. Your voice. Your thighs. That fucking smirk you tried to hide behind innocent eyes.

His hands were clenched at his sides like he didn’t trust them. Like the second they moved, they’d betray him — reach down again like they had last night. And the night before that. And the one before that. He let out a breath, sharp and broken.

He was tired.  Not sleepy. Tired. Exhausted.

From pretending he wasn’t losing his mind. From acting like he didn’t see you every time he closed his eyes. He tilted his head back, stared at the ceiling. Felt the ache between his legs pulse again.

It’s just a stupid want, right? That’s all this was. He just needed to get it out of his system. That was it. That had to be it. If he could just get you into bed… If he could just feel you — fuck you, take you apart the way he’d imagined night after night, with your thighs spread and your voice cracked open around his name — then it would go away.

Right?

He’d stop thinking about the way you smiled at him like you knew what you were doing. Stop dreaming about how soft your lips would be, how tight you’d feel. Stop aching every time he caught a glimpse of your thighs and wondered how far up that lace went. He’d fuck you, get off, get over it — like he always did. Like he had with every other girl who tried to crawl under his skin. Heeseung sucked in a breath, fingers twitching.

But why hadn’t that worked with anyone else?

Why did it feel like the longer he didn’t have you, the deeper you dug into him? Why did it feel like he couldn’t even imagine touching someone else anymore?

His cock pulsed where it strained beneath the towel, heavy and full, leaking just from thoughts of you — just from memory of your voice and that little tilt of your head like you were always daring him to say something wrong. He groaned low in his chest, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, fingers tangled in his damp hair. The towel slipped slightly, barely clinging to his hips as he leaned back against the headboard, his chest rising and falling too fast. His skin felt too tight, too hot, every nerve alight with the ghost of you—your scent, your laugh, the way your eyes seemed to pierce right through him, like you could see every filthy thought he tried to bury.

His hand moved before he could stop it, fingers brushing over the hard length straining against the damp fabric. A low curse slipped from his lips, half frustration, half surrender. He didn’t want to do this again, didn’t want to give in to the way you’d taken over his mind, his body, every fucking inch of him. But the ache was unbearable, a pulsing need that had him shoving the towel aside, as his hand wrapped around his cock, already slick with precum, the evidence of how much you’d undone him without even being here. His grip was tight, almost punishing, as if he could force the want out of himself with sheer willpower. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice rough, broken. He could see it so clearly: you beneath him, skin flushed, lips swollen from his kisses, your nails digging into his shoulders as you begged for more. He stroked himself slowly at first, dragging it out, letting the fantasy build. Your voice in his head, whispering his name, teasing him like you always did, that playful edge that made his blood burn. His pace quickened, hand moving in long, deliberate strokes, thumb brushing over the tip where he was most sensitive. He imagined your mouth there instead, soft and warm, your tongue tracing him, tasting him, your eyes locked on his like you wanted to ruin him. His hips jerked up, chasing the thought, a groan tearing from his throat. “Goddamn it, why you?” he rasped, hating how much he craved it.

He pictured you straddling him, your thighs gripping his hips, the way you’d move, slow and deliberate, making him feel every second of it. He’d grab your waist, pull you closer, bury himself so deep neither of you could think straight. His hand moved faster now, desperate, the slick sound filling the room as he chased that image, that feeling. Your gasps, your heat, the way you’d clench around him when you came, dragging him over the edge with you.

His breaths were uneven, stuttering, his free hand fisting the sheets as his strokes grew erratic. “Come on,” he growled to himself, or maybe to you, to the version of you living rent-free in his head. He could almost hear you, that soft, broken moan you’d make when he hit just the right spot, could almost feel your nails raking down his back, marking him as yours.

The thought pushed him over, his body tensing as pleasure crashed through him, hot and overwhelming. He came hard, a low, guttural sound spilling from his lips, his hand working himself through it until he was spent, chest heaving, head spinning. For a moment, he just sat there, eyes closed, the aftershocks buzzing through him, your name still burning on his tongue.

But when he opened his eyes, the room was empty. No you. No trace of the fantasy that had just ripped him apart. Just him, alone, with the same gnawing ache that hadn’t gone anywhere. If anything, it was worse now, sharper, like you’d carved yourself deeper into his chest.

The next day at school, you stared. Not subtly. Not softly. Intensely.

You watched Heeseung when he wasn’t looking, eyes trailing down the slope of his neck to the veins in his arms. To the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve when he thought too hard. To the space between his thighs when he shifted in his seat, adjusting himself like he hoped no one would notice. But you noticed. You always noticed.

You stared from across the classroom as he hunched over his notebook, pen barely moving, eyes blank. You stared from the hallway when he leaned against his locker like he was bored, only for his gaze to snap to you the second you passed. You stared across the cafeteria when he sat down, looking frustrated and tired, only to glance your way and catch your gaze already locked onto him. And every time he caught you looking, you smiled.

Soft. Pretty. Knowing.

Because you knew. You knew what he did last night. You knew how his hands had shaken against his skin. How he’d groaned your name into the dark of his room like a prayer. How he’d fucked his fist with his teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut because pretending it wasn’t you in his head was a lie he couldn’t tell anymore. 

It made your blood warm in your veins, made your lips curl with something darker than satisfaction. Because he was this far gone and you hadn’t even touched him properly. You hadn’t kissed him. Hadn’t whispered in his ear. Hadn’t even laid a single hand on his skin with real intent.

So when he finally came up to you — sometime between lunch and your next class, tension hanging off him like fog — you preened.

Heeseung looked like he hadn’t slept. His eyes were darker, posture tenser, but his mouth still curled into that cocky smirk like he hadn’t been falling apart in his bedroom the night before, whispering your name into the silence. “You staring at me now?” he asked, stepping too close. You blinked up at him, lashes soft. “I like the view.”

He sucked in a breath through his nose, nostrils flaring slightly. His eyes dipped to your chest, your lips, your skirt. And then right back up. “You’re dangerous baby,” he murmured. You tilted your head. “Am I?”

His smirk twitched — like it wanted to stay, but his pride was starting to splinter again. “You want me that bad, baby?” you asked, voice light, just shy of a whisper. He froze for a fraction of a second. And you knew — you knew — that his cock had just twitched in his jeans. “I think you want me more,” he said, trying to sound steady. “I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

You stepped closer, so close you could see the pulse in his throat. “Good,” you whispered, smiling up at him. “Keep watching.”

And he did. Wide-eyed. Frozen. Breathing like he’d forgotten how. You reached up, slowly — giving him every chance to back away. He didn’t. 

Your manicured finger brushed his chin. Light. Delicate. Barely there. Then, with the softest pressure, you dragged it downward. Slow, smooth, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, then down the column of his throat. His breath caught. His lashes fluttered. And his eyes—his beautiful, fucked-up eyes—half-rolled back for just a second.

Oh...

Heeseung’s shoulders tensed. He leaned in, nostrils flaring, like your scent had suddenly wrapped around him and dragged him down into it. His lips parted, breath shallow, chest rising and falling like he’d just been punched with heat.

Poor boy.

So sweet, so sinful-looking, like something holy had been corrupted and was begging you to ruin it further. You tilted your head, all soft innocence, eyes dipping once down his body. His oversized shirt hung loose over his frame, but not low enough to hide the growing outline pressing hard against the front of his grey sweatpants. Your lips parted just slightly.

Perfect.

You looked back up at him through your lashes, and Heeseung looked—wrecked. Not physically. Not obviously. But there was a haze in his eyes now, something soft and dizzying, like he was drunk on you. His lips were parted, chest rising slowly like he was trying to remember how to breathe in your presence. And then, without thinking, or maybe because you were thinking too much, you leaned in so close your breath fanned across his mouth. Your lips hovered just barely apart, not touching, not even grazing—but there. Present. Pressing against the space between yes and no.

Heeseung didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch. He just looked at you, wide-eyed and stunned, like you’d just knocked the wind out of him.

And oh—

There it was.

The look.

Soft. Sweet. Unmistakably hooked.

His pupils dilated. His cheeks flushed a faint pink, and you swore his whole body leaned forward without meaning to, like he was following the gravity of you alone. He looked at you like his heart was thudding against his ribs, like you were the only thing in the world he could see. Like he’d dreamed this moment before and couldn’t believe it was real. Like he was seconds away from giving you everything. He opened his mouth — just barely. Maybe to speak. Maybe to breathe.  But before he could say anything, you smiled again. That same soft, polite curve of your lips. Innocent. Untouchable.

Then you stepped back. One step. Two. Your fingers brushed the strap of your bag. Calm. Casual. Like nothing had happened at all. “I’ll see you in class,” you said lightly, voice lilting, sweet as ever. And then you turned. Walked away. Let the silence wrap around him like a second skin — tighter, heavier, full of everything you didn’t say. You didn’t have to look over your shoulder to know he was still watching you. Still rooted in place, lips parted, eyes wide, heart thudding behind his ribs like it didn’t know what to do with itself.

And you?

You felt satisfied.

But only for now.

Because that look in his eyes — the way he swayed toward you, the way he held his breath like a kiss would’ve broken him — it was everything you needed to know.

It was lunchtime. The cafeteria buzzed with its usual chaos — chairs scraping floors, trays clattering, the low hum of too many conversations tangled together.

You walked in like always. Slow. Unbothered. A soft sway in your step, your smile light, airy, as you drifted through the room like you belonged to a better place than this. And still, heads turned. Eyes followed. But yours were already fixed on one person.

Heeseung.

He was leaning against the edge of a lunch table, surrounded by people — some basketball teammates, a few girls, all laughing at something he said. You could see the effort in it. The way he sat back casually in his seat, legs spread just enough to appear comfortable. One arm slung along the bench behind the girl closest to him, the other resting lazily against the table.

He didn’t look at you.

But the second you walked into the room — he knew.

He shifted slightly, straightened his back just a little, adjusted the collar of his jacket as the girl next to him leaned in closer. She was pretty. Sweet-faced. Laughing too loudly at something he’d barely said. You stopped beside the vending machine just across the room. Didn't go to your usual spot. Just watched. And there it was. 

Heeseung's eyes flicked to you. Barely a second. Barely a movement.

But you saw it.

Then he looked away — quick, like it didn’t mean anything. Like he hadn’t just checked to see if you were watching. You tilted your head, smiling faintly.

So… He wanted to play now?

How cute.

You didn’t move. Just leaned one hand against the cool glass of the vending machine, watching with quiet interest as he let the girl touch his arm, as he leaned in a little too close when she whispered something near his ear. 

He was being bold now. Flirting. Laughing. Giving out the charm he used to keep tucked away in careful doses and hoping you’d take the bait. Hoping you’d snap. Show your cards. Act like it bothered you.

But you didn’t.

You just smiled wider.

Because oh, poor Heeseung.

He thought that if he played hard enough, smiled at enough girls, pretended to forget the way his breath hitched when your lips hovered over his, he’d get the power back. He didn’t realize what you already knew: He wasn’t doing it to make himself feel better. He was doing it to make you look at him again.

You stepped back from the vending machine, brushed imaginary lint from your sleeve, and turned toward the doors — never once glancing his way again.

But if you had? You’d have seen the way his smirk slipped the second your back turned. You’d have seen him watching you walk away, lips parted, expression flickering with something like panic. Like maybe he’d lost something he didn’t know how to win back.

You had always been patient. It was in your nature — the waiting, the watching, the careful unraveling of things. You didn’t need to rush when the world bent so easily around you. When people handed you their hearts with shaking fingers and no idea what they were doing. So when Heeseung started playing bold, you didn’t flinch. You didn’t chase. You didn’t even blink. You simply turned your attention elsewhere. Briefly. Strategically. And fed.

Not on him — not yet — but on the lesser boys. The ones who followed you with their eyes everywhere you walked. Who flushed red at a single glance. Who tripped over themselves when you spoke their names in a soft voice, as if it meant something. As if they mattered.

They didn’t. They were placeholders. Temporary. Just enough to take the edge off your hunger while you waited for something real. You led them into quiet corners. Empty stairwells. Behind bleachers. The shadows of parking lots just before dusk. Just long enough to let them get close. Just long enough to whisper something sweet, to press your fingertips gently against the side of their neck, to watch their eyes glaze over like they were dreaming. Then you’d feed. And leave them there. 

So it was about time the police started to notice.

Boys found passed out behind dumpsters. Unmoving under bleachers. Eyes wide open like they’d seen God and the Devil in the same breath. There were questions now. Murmurs in the hallways. Cautionary whispers about something strange, something wrong, something hungry.

But you didn’t care. You wouldn’t be caught. You couldn’t be. And besides — you were busy. Because while you toyed with your distractions, you watched Heeseung. And he watched you. 

He had grown desperate. Subtle at first — quiet glances, tense shoulders, narrowed eyes whenever you leaned too close to someone else. But then it escalated. He flexed when you passed, like his presence alone should’ve been enough to pull your eyes back to him. He flirted again, more recklessly this time — leaning close, lowering his voice, touching your arm too casually in crowded halls. He made jokes he didn’t mean, just to hear you laugh. He lingered in places he had no reason to be. He filled the air with his scent, his presence, his need.

Like he was trying to win you back. Like he didn’t realize he’d never had you to begin with. And still… you let him try. You let him get bolder, let him fall deeper, let him think he was regaining ground while you sat high in your quiet little throne, feeding off every glance, every twitch of frustration, every pathetic effort to draw your gaze back to him.

It was adorable.

The way he kept trying, like he didn’t realize how obvious it had become, how everyone could see the way his eyes always found you first, how his confidence cracked every time you looked through him instead of at him.

Heeseung, once untouchable, unreadable, now hung on every glance you gave him. And you gave so few.

But today? Today you were feeling generous.

The hallway was mostly empty. Lunchtime. Everyone else had scattered to the cafeteria or the courtyard or crammed around vending machines. But Heeseung… he’d lingered. Leaning against the lockers again. Looking casual. Like he wasn’t waiting for you. But you knew better. So you walked right past him — same sway in your step, same unreadable smile, and let your shoulder just barely brush his arm.

He stiffened. Didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just turned slightly — like a magnet pulled him.

You stopped. Paused like maybe, just maybe, you hadn’t noticed he was there. And then you turned. Eyes soft, lips parted like the barest question hovered there.

Heeseung stared at you.

You stepped closer, casually, until the space between you shrank to nothing. Close enough to hear his breath hitch. Close enough to see the faint flush climbing up his neck. Your fingers moved first, slow and deliberate, brushing against the sleeve of his jacket. Just a graze, barely there, but his breath caught like you’d pressed your whole hand against his skin. You let your touch linger, trailing down the fabric until your fingertips found the edge of his sleeve, slipping just beneath to graze the warm skin of his wrist. Heeseung froze, his eyes darting to where your fingers rested, then back to your face, wide and searching, like he wasn’t sure this was real. “What—” His voice cracked, low and rough, and he swallowed hard, trying to recover. “What are you doing?”

You didn’t answer. Not with words. Instead, you stepped closer, your body now a breath away from his, close enough that the heat of him seeped into you. Your hand slid up, fingers curling lightly around his wrist, your thumb brushing over the pulse point there. It was racing, hammering under your touch, betraying every ounce of the cool he tried to project. “You’re shaking,” you murmured, voice soft, teasing, but with an edge that made his lips part like he wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. Your other hand lifted, bold now, pressing against his chest, right over his heart. It thumped hard against your palm, and you couldn’t help the small smile that curved your lips. “Nervous, Heeseung?”

He let out a shaky breath, his head tipping forward slightly, like he was trying to anchor himself but failing. “You’re messing with me,” he managed, but there was no bite to it, no conviction. Just a plea, maybe, for you to stop or keep going—he didn’t seem to know which. Your fingers tightened slightly on his wrist, and your hand on his chest slid upward, until it rested at the base of his throat, feeling the quick bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed again. “Am I?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper, your eyes locking onto his. You could see it, the way he was fighting to hold onto whatever control he had left, the way his body leaned into your touch despite himself.

You let your fingers drift higher, brushing along the line of his jaw, your touch featherlight but electric. His eyes fluttered shut for a split second before snapping open again, like he couldn’t bear to lose sight of you. Your thumb grazed his lower lip, just barely, and his breath stuttered, warm against your skin. “You’re killing me,” he whispered, voice raw, and there it was—the crack in his armor, the thing he’d been trying to hide for weeks. His hands, which had been clenched at his sides, finally moved, one hovering near your hip, not quite touching, like he was afraid he’d break something if he did.

You didn’t pull away. Didn’t step back to break the spell you’d woven around him. Instead, you stayed, your body so close that the air between you felt charged. Heeseung’s hand, the one hovering near your hip, trembled for a moment longer before it finally moved, fingers finding the sliver of bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. The contact sent a jolt through him, his entire body shuddering as his grip tightened, skin against skin, warm and electric. A low groan rumbled in his chest, raw and unfiltered, as he pulled you closer, like some primal instinct had taken over, like he needed you pressed against him to keep himself grounded.

Your chest met his, the soft curve of your cleavage drawing his gaze downward, and his breath hitched again, louder this time, a sound that bordered on desperate. You tilted your head, letting one hand slide up to the nape of his neck, fingers threading through the strands of his hair. With a gentle tug, you pulled, just enough to make his head tip back slightly, and the sound that slipped from his lips—a soft, needy whine—sent a thrill through you. His eyes locked onto yours, a faint pink tint shimmering in them, like he was drowning in you and didn’t care to fight it.

His mind was gone, every coherent thought scattered like ash in the wind. You could see it in the way his lips stayed parted, the way his chest heaved with shallow breaths, the way his grip on your waist tightened, fingers digging into your skin like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. Nothing else existed for him now—just you, your touch, your warmth, the way you smelled faintly of something sweet and maddening.

You grinned, mischievous and knowing, reveling in the power you held over him. Your free hand moved, slow and deliberate, tracing the lines of his chest through his thin shirt, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath your palm. Your fingers danced lower, exploring the taut muscles of his abdomen, each touch pulling another small, broken sound from him—whines that he didn’t even seem aware of, each one softer, needier than the last. You bit your bottom lip, watching his reaction, the way his eyes followed your every move, wide and glassy, completely entranced. Your hand lingered at the hem of his shirt, teasing the edge before slipping just beneath, your fingertips brushing the warm, bare skin of his stomach. He sucked in a sharp breath, his body tensing under your touch, and another low groan escaped him, his head tipping forward until his forehead nearly rested against yours.

“You—” he started, voice hoarse, barely a whisper, but it broke off into another whine as your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down his spine. His hand at your waist slid higher, desperate, pulling you so close that there was no space left between you, your bodies pressed flush together, every curve and line molding into him. You leaned in, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, your voice a low murmur. “What’s wrong, Heeseung?” you teased, knowing full well he couldn’t answer, not when his mind was this far gone, fogged over by the spell you’d put him under. “Can’t handle a little touch?”

His only response was a shaky exhale, his eyes fluttering shut as your hand continued its slow exploration, mapping the planes of his chest, the dip of his collarbone, every inch of him that trembled under your fingers. You paused, your eyes flicked up, scanning the hallway. Empty. The faint hum of distant voices from the cafeteria was the only sound, leaving the two of you in a pocket of stolen silence. Your gaze drifted back to Heeseung, his flushed cheeks, his parted lips, the way his eyes—half-lidded and dazed—were fixed on you, waiting, pleading, entirely at your mercy.

A slow, deliberate smile curled your lips as you tilted your head, studying him. Every ounce of his usual confidence was stripped away, leaving only raw need in its place. Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling just enough to make him lean down, his face closer to yours, his breath warm and unsteady against your skin. Without a word, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to his in an open-mouthed, wet kiss that stole the air from his lungs.

You controlled it, your tongue sliding against his, teasing, claiming. Heeseung melted into you, a low, desperate sound vibrating in his throat as he let you take the lead. He didn’t fight it—couldn’t fight it. His hands gripped your waist tighter, fingers digging into your skin, but he didn’t dare move them without your say-so. He was yours to command, his body pliant under your touch, his lips yielding to every shift and press of your mouth.

The kiss deepened, slow and messy, your teeth grazing his bottom lip, pulling a soft whimper from him that sent a spark of heat through you. Your hand at his nape tugged again, angling his head just how you wanted, and he followed, helpless, letting you take whatever you pleased. You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your lips hovering over his, still close enough that you could feel the heat of him, the faint taste of him lingering on your tongue. His eyes were still closed, lashes fluttering, his mouth parted like he was waiting for you to decide what happened next. You grinned, wicked and knowing, your thumb brushing over his swollen bottom lip, feeling the way it trembled under your touch. “Good boy,” you murmured, voice low and teasing, and his eyes snapped open, that faint pink tint now a vivid, glowing hue, shimmering in the dim light of the hallway. Your breath caught, a thrill sparking through you at the sight.

So that’s all it took? One kiss, one taste of you, and Heeseung was fully under—mind, body, everything surrendered to the pull of your spell. You licked your lips, watching his gaze lock onto the movement, his pupils dilating, his breath hitching like he was hanging on your every action. “Take the lead,” you whispered, your voice a soft command, laced with just enough challenge to spark something in him. “Show me what you’ve got, Heeseung.” His reaction was instant, like a switch had been flipped. The pink in his eyes flared brighter, and a low, almost feral sound rumbled in his chest. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him, his body pressing into yours with a sudden, hungry edge. He tilted his head, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but tentative—hot, open-mouthed, and consuming, like he’d been starving for this and you’d just given him permission to feast.

His kisses trailed, hot and wet, along your jaw, down the side of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver. He was bold now, guided by your command but fueled by something deeper, something that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. His lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, and you felt his breath, warm and uneven, as he murmured your name, low and broken, like it was the only word he could remember. You let him, your hands roaming his shoulders, his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed under your touch, the way his body reacted to every move you made. His eyes flicked up to meet yours between kisses, searching, like he was worshiping you with every press of his lips. He was yours, yes, but now he was claiming you too, in his own way, pouring himself into every touch, every kiss, as if he could make you feel the depth of what you’d done to him.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him closer, and he obliged, his kisses growing hungrier, his hands bolder, one slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to graze the bare skin of your lower back. The contact sent a spark through you, and you arched into him, grinning against his lips as you felt him shudder, his control fraying at the edges. “That’s it,” you whispered, voice breathy but still commanding, your lips brushing his as you spoke. “Don’t hold back now.”

Heeseung let out a high, needy whine, the sound unrestrained, his hands, emboldened by your words, slipped lower, finding the hem of your criminally short skirt. With a shaky breath, his fingers slid beneath the fabric, grazing the bare skin of your thighs before gripping your ass firmly, possessively. The contact made him shudder, his hips jerking forward instinctively, his bulge pressing hard against you, unmistakable through the thin layers of clothing. “P-please,” he stammered, his words tumbling out in a messy, desperate rush, barely coherent as drool glistened at the corner of his parted lips. “Please, I—I need—” He couldn’t finish, his voice breaking into another soft whine as his hips moved again, grinding against you in a frantic, almost involuntary rhythm. His grip tightened, fingers digging into your skin, pulling you impossibly closer as if he could merge himself with you.

“Look at you,” you purred, voice dripping with condescension, “so pathetic, humping me like some desperate little puppy.” Your words were sharp, cutting, but they only made his eyes flutter, his breath hitch, a low groan spilling from his throat as he pressed himself harder against you. “Cant even talk, can you?” you continued, your hand sliding up to grip his jaw, forcing him to meet your gaze. His lips parted wider, more drool slipping down his chin as he whimpered, his hips stuttering in their rhythm. “Just a needy mess, begging for me without even knowing what you want.” Your thumb brushed over his lower lip, smearing the drool across his skin, and he whined again, his hands kneaded your ass, desperate, almost bruising in their grip, as he kept humping against you, each movement more erratic than the last. “Please,” he gasped again, voice cracking, “I’ll do anything—anything you want.” His words were slurred, his mind fogged over, every thought consumed by the heat of your body, the way you felt under his hands, the way your voice sliced through him.

You leaned in, your lips grazing his ear, your voice a low, taunting whisper. “Oh, you’ll do anything?” you mocked, your fingers tightening in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him gasp. “Then keep going, Heeseung. Show me how much you need it.” Your words sent a shiver through him, his hips bucking harder, a choked moan escaping as he chased the friction, the pleasure, the overwhelming pull of you. His movements were frantic now, his face buried in the crook of your neck, hot breaths and soft whimpers muffled against your skin as he clung to you, his hands gripping your ass like a lifeline.

But then, the faint sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, voices growing louder, closer. Your head tilted slightly, senses sharp, and a slow smirk curved your lips. You leaned back just enough to meet his gaze, his eyes wide and pleading. “Stop,” you commanded, voice low but firm, cutting through the fog of his desperation. Heeseung froze instantly, a small, broken sob escaping his lips as his hips stilled, his body trembling with the effort of obeying you. His hands didn’t let go, but he was shaking, his forehead dropping against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. Your fingers slid into his hair, patting gently, soothingly, like you were calming a skittish animal. “Shh,” you murmured, your lips brushing the shell of his ear, voice dropping to a whisper. “Take me to the janitor’s closet. Now.”

He didn’t hesitate. With a shaky nod, his arms tightened around you, keeping you pressed against him as he moved, guiding you down the hallway without ever breaking contact. His steps were quick, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, that faint sob lingering in his throat. You let him lead, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along his neck, keeping him tethered to you. His eyes darted nervously toward the sound of the approaching voices, but his focus stayed on you, on the command you’d given, on the need to please you.

The janitor’s closet was just around the corner, tucked away in a shadowed alcove. Heeseung fumbled with the handle, his hands trembling as he pushed the door open, pulling you inside with him. The door clicked shut, plunging you both into dim, cramped silence, the air thick with the scent of cleaning supplies. He didn’t let go, his hands still on you, his chest heaving as he pressed himself closer, like he couldn’t bear even an inch of space between you. 

You looked up at him, his face barely visible in the faint light filtering through the crack under the door, his pink eyes glowing with that same desperate intensity. His lips were parted, still wet, still trembling, and you could feel the tension rolling off him, the way he was waiting, aching for your next move. Your hand slid up to his jaw, thumb brushing over his cheek, wiping away the trace of drool, and he whimpered softly, leaning into your touch like it was the only thing keeping him upright. “Good,” you whispered, voice teasing but edged with control, your lips curling into a smile as you held his gaze. “Now, where were we?”

A grin spread across your face as you held his gaze, savoring the power you held over him. Then, slowly, your hand slid from his jaw, trailing down until your fingers reached the waistband of his pants, brushing over the front of his pants, and you felt him—hard, straining, the heat of him evident even through the fabric. A low hum vibrated in your throat, pleased, teasing, as your fingers pressed lightly against his crotch, feeling the way he twitched under your touch. “Oh, Heeseung,” you murmured, voice dripping with mock sweetness, your grin widening as his hips jerked involuntarily, chasing your hand. “So eager, aren’t you?”

He let out a strangled whimper, his hands gripping your waist tighter, fingers digging into your skin as he fought to stay still, to please you, to follow the unspoken rules you’d set. Your fingers pressed a little harder, teasing the outline of him, and he groaned, low and broken, his head tipping forward to rest against your shoulder as his body shuddered. You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear, voice dripping with amusement. “Look at you, Heeseung,” you purred, your tone sharp and mocking, slicing through the haze of his desperation. “So weak, so needy. Can’t even hold yourself together, can you? Just a touch and you’re already a mess, whining like some pathetic little thing.” Your fingers teased him again, a slow, deliberate stroke over the strained fabric, and he let out another broken whine, his hips twitching helplessly under your hand. “Please,” he mumbled, voice barely audible, thick with need, and you laughed softly, the sound cruel.

“Please?” you mocked, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your eyes glinting with wicked delight. “You think begging’s going to get you anywhere? You’re lucky I’m even touching you.” Your words hit him like a whip, and he shuddered again, his grip on your waist faltering as his knees buckled slightly, his body swaying under the weight of your voice. You tilted your head, considering him for a moment, your grin widening as an idea took shape. “On your knees,” you commanded, voice low and firm, leaving no room for hesitation. Heeseung’s eyes widened for a split second, but he didn’t argue, didn’t hesitate. He sank to his knees in front of you, the movement fluid, his hands sliding down to rest on his thighs as he stared up at you. 

You reached down, your fingers threading through his hair, patting his head gently, almost condescendingly, like you were rewarding a pet for good behavior. “That’s better,” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with control. “Look at you, so obedient. So desperate to please me.” You stepped back slightly, just out of his reach, and his hands twitched on his thighs, fingers flexing like he was fighting the urge to grab for you.

With a slow smile, you tilted your head, letting your fingers trail down your own body, teasing the hem of your skirt. “You want something to look at, don’t you?” you purred, voice dripping with mockery as you lifted the fabric just enough to flash the lacy edge of your panties, delicate and sheer, clinging to your skin in a way that made his breath catch audibly. His eyes widened, zeroing in on the sight, his lips parting as a soft, desperate sound slipped out.

Your hands then moved to your top, tugging it up slightly to reveal the matching bra, the lace intricate and barely containing you, a teasing glimpse of what lay beneath. You let the fabric fall back into place, but not before you saw the way his thighs shook, his knees pressing together as he fought to stay still, to obey. A wet patch had already formed at the front of his sweatpants, and the sight sent a pang through you—part amusement, part something softer, almost pity. “Pathetic,” you said, voice low and taunting, though there was a trace of warmth in it now. “Already making a mess, are we?”

Heeseung whimpered, his head dipping forward, his face flushed with shame and need, but his eyes never left you, drinking in every move you made. His hands clenched into fists on his thighs, trembling with the effort of restraint, and you could see how badly he was struggling, how much he needed release.

You softened, just a fraction, your grin turning sly but not unkind. “Alright,” you murmured, stepping closer, close enough that he could feel the heat of you but not close enough to touch. “You’ve been good, haven’t you? So well-behaved.” Your voice was a velvet caress, and his gaze turned hopeful. “Go ahead, Heeseung. Touch yourself. Show me how much you need it.”

His breath hitched, a shaky exhale as his trembling hands moved instantly, fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants. He didn’t break eye contact, his pink eyes locked on you as he slipped his hand inside, a low, broken moan spilling from his lips at the first touch. The sound sent a shiver through you, but you kept your composure, your gaze sharp, watching every twitch of his face, every shudder that ran through him. “Show me,” you commanded, voice low and laced with authority, your lips curling into a teasing smirk. Heeseung’s eyes widened for a split second, a flush creeping up his neck, but he obeyed without hesitation. His hand tugged down the waistband just enough, revealing himself—hard, leaking, his fingers wrapping around his length as he started to stroke, his gaze never leaving yours.

You leaned back against the wall of the janitor’s closet, crossing your arms casually, letting your eyes rake over him. The sight of him on his knees, sweatpants bunched around his thighs, hand moving in a rhythm that was entirely for you, was almost too perfect. His breath came in short, breathy moans, blending with the faint, wet sounds of his hand, the noises filling the cramped space and making the air feel heavier, thicker. “Slow down,” you said, voice sharp but playful, tilting your head as you watched him. His hand faltered, his strokes slowing immediately, a soft whine slipping from his lips as he adjusted. His eyes stayed locked on you, pleading, desperate for your approval, his chest heaving with the effort of holding back. The wet sounds grew softer, and his moans turned higher, needier, as he fought to please you. 

“Good,” you purred, letting your voice drip with mock praise, your smile wicked. “So obedient, Heeseung. Look at you, doing exactly what I say.” He whimpered, his hand trembling as he kept the slower pace, his thighs shaking beneath him. “Now faster,” you ordered, voice firm, leaning forward slightly to watch him closer. His hand sped up instantly, fingers tightening as he stroked himself quicker, the wet noises growing louder, more insistent, mingling with his breathy moans that spilled out uncontrollably. “That’s it,” you murmured, your voice a low taunt, “keep going, just like that. Show me how much you want it.”

Heeseung hung on every word, every syllable, his eyes glassy and desperate, drinking you in like your voice was the only thing anchoring him. The sexual energy radiating from him was overwhelming, a raw heat that filled the cramped janitor’s closet and seeped into you, making your skin prickle, your pulse race. It was intoxicating, the way his need for you pulsed in the air, the way his every whimper and shudder seemed to feed something deep inside you. This was the fullest you’d ever felt, a heady rush of power and desire, and he hadn’t even touched you, hadn’t even fucked you. The thought alone sent a shiver down your spine, your body humming with the intensity of it all.

His moans grew higher, more frantic, his hand moving in a blur now, the slick sounds blending with his ragged breaths. “P-please,” he gasped, voice cracking, barely coherent, “please, I—I need to cum, please, let me—” His words tumbled out, desperate, broken, his entire body shaking. You leaned forward, close enough that your breath ghosted over his flushed face. “You’re begging so pretty,” you purred, voice dripping with mock sweetness as you tugged your top down just enough to give him a clear view of your tits, the lacy bra barely containing them. His eyes widened, a choked moan spilling from his lips as his gaze locked onto you, his hand faltering for a moment before picking up speed again, driven by the sight. 

“Cum,” you commanded, voice sharp and final, your eyes boring into his. “Now, Heeseung. Do it for me.” The effect was immediate. His entire body tensed, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as his hand worked frantically, his hips bucking into his own touch. His pink eyes stayed locked on you as he came undone, his release spilling over his hand, staining his sweatpants further. The sounds he made—breathy, broken, almost sobbing—filled the closet, mingling with the wet noises as he rode out the pleasure, his body shuddering violently under the weight of it. You watched, your grin softening into something almost fond as he trembled before you, completely spent, his chest heaving. And in that moment, you knew you’d never felt more powerful, more alive, than you did with him kneeling at your feet, utterly yours.

A low groan slipped from your lips, the sound almost primal as you felt the rush coursing through you, like you’d just fed on a marathon of boys all at once. Desire and power thrummed under your skin, a pulse that made you feel invincible, alive in a way that was almost too much. Your eyes locked onto Heeseung, still kneeling before you, a wrecked, beautiful mess. And yet, despite the way you’d drained him, fed off his desperate energy, he didn’t look done. Not even close. His chest heaved, his gaze still fixed on you with that same hunger, like he could go again if you so much as whispered the word.

Oh, excellent. His stamina was unreal, holding up even after you’d feasted on him so thoroughly. He was a whole banquet, a rare find, and the thought made your lips curl into a smirk, dark and satisfied. You crouched down, leveling your gaze with his, and reached out to rub his cheek lovingly, your touch gentle but possessive. Heeseung leaned into it instantly, a soft whimper escaping as his eyes fluttered, seeking more of your warmth, your approval, completely under your spell. “Such a good boy,” you murmured, voice soft but commanding, your thumb brushing over his flushed skin. “Now, listen carefully. Pull your pants up, tie your jacket around your waist, go home, take a shower, and fall asleep.” Each word was sinking into him like a brand, and his pink eyes flickered with obedience, his body already moving to comply before you’d even finished speaking.

You stood back, watching as he rose on shaky legs, his movements slow but precise. He tugged his boxers and sweatpants up, covering the mess he’d made, his hands trembling but never hesitating. Then he grabbed his jacket, tied it around his waist, and without a word, without a single complaint, he turned and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway, his silhouette disappearing into the shadows as he followed your command to the letter.

You leaned against the wall, a slow, wicked grin spreading across your face. Oh, this was the part you loved. When boys were under your spell, they did exactly what you told them to, no questions, no resistance, just pure, unthinking obedience. And the best part? They never remembered. Not a single moment. Whether they were dead or so far gone mentally that their minds couldn’t string together a coherent thought, it didn’t matter. Heeseung was yours for this moment, and when he woke up tomorrow, it would be like none of this ever happened—his mind wiped clean, his body still craving you without knowing why.

The power of it, the control, sent another thrill through you, your skin buzzing with the afterglow of feeding off him. Heeseung had been a feast, a rare delicacy, and you knew you’d be savoring this one for a long time.

The days that followed were quieter. Not around the school — no, the halls still buzzed with rumors, whispers, tension heavy in the air from the boys being found dead, sick, confused. No. The quiet came from Heeseung. He was different now.  Still handsome, still sharp around the edges, but that confident tilt to his smile? That natural sway in his step? Gone.

He was paranoid.

Eyes darting. Shoulders tense. Flinching slightly when certain boys coughed near lockers or spoke too loudly about the police patrols. Like the shadows were starting to move differently around him. Like something invisible had already touched him — and might do it again.

And oh… he was such a pretty boy when scared.

You’d always liked him, but now? Now, seeing him like this — shaken, confused, already marked by you — he was irresistible.

Of course, he couldn’t remember what had happened. He’d woken in his bed, body heavy, heartbeat quick without a reason. A slight ache in his bones like something had drained him , left him hollow, warm, and wired.

He didn’t know it was you.

But he felt it.

You could see it in his eyes when they met yours in the hallway, that flash of recognition that didn’t quite make sense. That subtle fear dressed up like curiosity. Like maybe, just maybe, you were the thing his subconscious whispered about when he was too tired to fight it.

And you?

You simply smiled.

Watched him fall further apart while you stayed pristine and glowing — a little more vibrant now, a little sharper, faster, stronger. 

Feeding off him had done more than take the edge off. It had powered you. And now… now you had to be careful. The police were patrolling more frequently. Teachers whispered. The hallways had eyes. And so for now, you let the hunger settle. Let it curl quietly beneath your skin. Because you had time. And you had a plan. You’d overheard the party plans from someone two lockers down. A house party at one of Heeseung’s friends — Jay, was it? Loud music, too many people, too few sober. Doors left unlocked. Rooms left dark. A place where things could happen unnoticed.

Perfect.

You already knew what you’d wear. How you’d move through the crowd. Where you'd find Heeseung — alone, tense, drawn straight to you like you’d called him there.

And this time you weren’t going to disappear afterward. No more pretending. No more teasing. No more leaving him dizzy with confusion and desire. Because now that you had tasted him — now that you knew how good he was under your spell, how easily he melted, how long he could last — you weren’t going to let him go. 

But first, you needed an address. Where the party was. Where it would happen. Where the music would be too loud and the lights too low and no one would notice if one person disappeared for a while. And really… It didn’t take much. Just a little hair twirl. A bat of your lashes. A soft-voiced question wrapped in something sweet. You didn’t even need to push, most people wanted to help you before you asked.

Jake was no different.

He was standing alone near the vending machine after school, scrolling through his phone like he didn’t really want to be there. Backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, hoodie half-zipped, sneakers tapping lightly against the floor. You approached slowly, calmly, with that careful smile that always worked best when you let it feel just a little shy. “Hey,” you said gently, just enough brightness in your voice to lift his eyes. Jake blinked up from his screen, slightly startled. Then smiled. “Oh. Hey.”

“Sorry,” you said with a soft laugh, twirling a strand of hair between your fingers like a nervous habit. “I overheard some people talking about a party this weekend… Something about Jay’s house?”

Jake perked up, clearly surprised you were asking him of all people. “Uh—yeah. Yeah, that’s right.” 

You tilted your head slightly, widening your eyes just enough. “Do you know where that is? I’m still kinda… bad with directions around here.” That was all it took. Jake laughed once, almost awkwardly, already digging through his phone. “Yeah, hold on, I’ll send it to you. It’s kinda out past the lake, so it’s easy to miss. But it’s a nice place.” You leaned a little closer, pretending to peek at the screen. Close enough for your perfume to reach him, close enough for your presence to make him shift a little where he stood. 

He cleared his throat. “There. Sent.”

“Thanks, Jake. You’re a lifesaver.”

He blinked a few times, dazed. “Yeah. Anytime.” There was a beat of silence, just long enough for him to gather a little confidence, to lean one shoulder against the vending machine and let his eyes linger just a second too long. “You know,” he added with a grin, “if you do show up… I could give you the real tour. Show you a good time. If you find me.”

Smooth. A little cheeky. A little hopeful.

You let out a soft laugh, the kind that sounded like it belonged to someone harmless, like a secret being shared. Then you tilted your head, blinking up at him through your lashes. “You’re cheeky, Jake.”

He smirked, clearly pleased with himself.

You waved with two fingers, the shimmer of your perfectly manicured nails catching the light as you turned to leave. And of course — of course — you pretended not to notice him lean slightly down as you walked away, his gaze dipping low to catch the sway of your hips in that little pleated skirt.

Jake was handsome, sure. Sweet, confident, warm. You could feel the energy rolling off him. He’d be fun, if you let him. Probably even satisfying in his own way. But he wasn’t who you wanted. Your attention didn’t scatter. It focused. And right now, all of it was on one boy.

You didn’t knock. You didn’t wait. You simply appeared.

One second the party buzzed like every other — music pulsing through the floors, laughter echoing through the halls, cups sloshing with something far too sweet for its color — and then you stepped through the door…and everything slowed.

Eyes turned. Conversations hitched. A few people stopped mid-sentence. Others simply stared, caught in the gravity of your arrival.

You didn’t need to speak.  You didn’t even look around right away.  You knew. You felt it — the way the air shifted, how the room turned with you at the center. Because you weren’t just dressed to be seen. You were dressed to be watched.

A tight black miniskirt hugged your hips, just high enough to show the faintest glimpse of sheer lace garters peeking beneath. Your stockings were delicate, nearly translucent, with bows tied just above the knees — pretty enough to pass for sweet, but sheer enough to make hearts stutter. Your top… wasn’t really a top at all. Thin. Tight. Barely-there straps that sat prettily on your shoulders. Fabric clinging to your curves, dipping in ways that made it impossible to decide where to look. A lace trim at the edge blurred the line between lingerie and fashion. Hair? Perfect. Makeup? Lethal in the kindest way.  And your eyes? Still soft. Still innocent. You looked like pure sin wrapped in sugar and satin — all ribbons and perfume and something dangerous humming beneath the sweetness.

Someone spilled their drink. A few boys elbowed each other and immediately started whispering. One of them — maybe a basketball player, maybe someone else you didn’t care to remember — openly dropped his jaw and just stared.

And as your heels clicked over the hardwood, you scanned the room slowly — eyes passing over familiar faces, admirers, victims — until you found him.

You didn’t have to search for him. Because Heeseung was already watching you. His drink was still in his hand, but forgotten — held loosely, fingers clenched just tight enough to keep it from slipping. His mouth was slightly agape. Eyes locked to you like he’d been waiting without realizing, like some part of him had known you’d come and had been holding its breath the entire night. And now that you were here? He was unraveling. You saw it in the way his legs shifted — thighs tightening, almost trembling, like his body wanted to drop to its knees in pure muscle memory. Like something inside him had already submitted, long before his pride could catch up.

He looked…

Delicious.

Dark jeans clinging to his legs just right. A tight black button-up, sleeves rolled to his forearms, the collar open just enough to tease the line of his neck. His skin flushed faintly pink under the golden lights, a few beads of sweat clinging to his jawline — from the heat, or the pressure, or you, you couldn’t tell. Didn’t need to. The hem of his shirt rode just high enough to flash the band of his boxers beneath the denim, a faint glimpse that made your lips twitch, just barely, into a smile.

Well… hello there.

You let your gaze drag up from the faint peek of waistband to the curve of his throat, to the tension in his jaw, to the dazed look in his wide, unblinking eyes.

He hadn’t moved. Not an inch. Not since you stepped through the door. Like moving might break whatever spell had just wrapped around him and sunk into his skin.

And when he swallowed hard — Adam’s apple bobbing, chest rising just a little too fast — you smiled again and started walking. With every click of your heels against the floor, his fingers clenched tighter around the forgotten drink, his breathing grew shallower, and his posture faltered like he’d already forgotten how to stand on his own.

Perfect.

Exactly where you wanted him. The moment your gaze met his… you started to pull. You let it unfurl slowly — that soft, quiet thread of your spell, slipping unseen through the air, like silk dragging across skin. Invisible to everyone else, but to Heeseung? It hit like gravity. 

And oh, how nicely he received it.

Almost instantly, his body changed. His shoulders, once tense, dropped slightly. His spine slackened just enough to look weightless — like the floor beneath him had faded. His drink slipped further in his grip, barely clutched now, and his lips parted without thought.

Then you saw it.

His eyes.

The shift was subtle. Beautiful.

A soft flush of pink blooming across the whites of them — not unnatural, just tinted. Like a petal had dissolved into his gaze and dyed him from the inside out. Like the spell was wrapping its fingers around the edges of his soul.

You smiled. Soft. Patient.

Then — as calmly as if you were going to get a glass of water — you turned, walking upstairs toward the shadowed hallway where the bedrooms were. No rush. No drama.

And just before you disappeared from sight, you crooked a finger behind your back.

Not looking. Not needing to. 

And sure enough—

He moved. Like something inside him had been unlocked. Like his feet were following something his brain couldn’t name. He moved through the crowd without hesitation, bumping shoulders, brushing past people who turned in confusion, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t say sorry. Didn’t look away.His eyes were on you. Only you. Drawn like a tide. Enchanted. Quiet. His soul already leaning forward before his body did. You could feel him behind you now, like a second heartbeat.

The hallway upstairs was dim — quieter than the rest of the house. Just the dull thud of bass echoing beneath the floorboards and the low murmur of party sounds behind closed doors.

Heeseung followed you with slow, steady steps, his breath catching in his throat every few seconds like he didn’t know how to calm it. His hands were at his sides, clenching and unclenching, his eyes dazed but fixed. Focused. Tranced. 

When you reached the door at the end of the hall, you pushed it open without a word. The bedroom was empty. Dimly lit by the soft glow of a small bedside lamp. The bed was untouched. The air was still. You stepped inside first, the scent of you lingering in the space like perfume. Heeseung followed without question. And before he could say a word, your voice cut softly through the air: “Close the door.”

He hesitated — just for a second. His lips parted like he might ask why, but then he saw your eyes. Calm. Expectant. And he obeyed.

The door clicked shut. 

“Lock it.”  Quieter now. Even gentler. But still — a command.

He turned slowly, hands shaky, and twisted the lock until it clicked. A soft sound, but in the silence of the room, it echoed. When he turned back to face you, his chest was rising faster than before. A faint pink flush crept across his cheeks and down his throat. His lips were parted, eyes still faintly tinted — and now wide.

Like he’d just realized what he’d done.

One still glowing with that vivid pink tint, the other—startlingly—his natural hue, a flicker of clarity breaking through the haze of your spell. His hands gripped the edge of a nearby desk, knuckles whitening as he leaned against it, a low groan rumbling from his throat. His body trembled, muscles tensing as if he were physically fighting something invisible, something pulling at him from the inside. “W-what… What are you doing to me?” he stammered, his voice hoarse, breaking on every word. His chest heaved, his gaze flickering between you and the floor, as if he could anchor himself to something, anything, to resist the pull.

You only smiled, letting the silence stretch as you watched him struggle, his body betraying the war raging in his mind. Oh, he’s trying to fight me? The thought sent a thrill through you, sharp and intoxicating. Interesting. Most didn’t even get this far, didn’t have the strength to push back. But Heeseung—he was different. Stronger. And that only made you want to sink your claws deeper. 

You sauntered over to the bed, sitting down with a casual grace, leaning back on your hands and crossing your legs, letting the hem of your skirt ride up just enough to draw his attention. His gaze flickered to you, unable to help himself, and you saw the way his throat bobbed, fighting to hold onto clarity. “I’m not doing anything bad, Heeseung,” you purred, voice soft but laced with a teasing edge, your smile widening as you tilted your head. “I’m just… pushing you toward what you want.” You let the words linger, watching the way they hit him, the way his breath hitched, his body swaying slightly. “You… you don’t know what I want,” he managed, voice trembling, his words more a plea than a defiance. 

You giggled, the sound light and almost cruel, as you leaned forward slightly, letting your gaze lock onto his. “Oh, don’t I?” you teased, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “I’m in your head, Heeseung. In your mind. I’ve got your soul, your heart, all wrapped up in my hands.” You raised a hand, fingers curling as if you were physically holding something delicate, fragile, and his breath hitched again, his normal eye clouding over as the pink in the other flared brighter, overtaking the last shred of resistance.

You strengthened your spell, letting the invisible threads of your power weave tighter around him, sinking deeper into his mind, his desires. His body sagged slightly against the desk, a soft groan escaping his lips as his head dipped forward, his normal eye now fully swallowed by that vivid pink glow. His grip on the desk faltered, his knees buckling slightly as he leaned forward, panting, his face flushed, sweat beading on his forehead. “You…” he whispered, voice barely audible, trembling with a mix of surrender and need. You uncrossed your legs, leaning back further on the bed, your smile wicked and knowing. “That’s it,” you murmured, voice a velvet caress. “No more fighting. You want this. You want me.” His eyes, now fully pink, locked onto you as he nodded shakily, his body trembling with the weight of your spell, his mind completely yours to mold.

“Come here,” you commanded, voice soft but unyielding, your eyes never leaving his. Heeseung moved instantly, his steps unsteady but obedient as he stopped right in front of you. “Strip,” you said, the word sharp, your gaze raking over him. Heeseung’s hands trembled as he reached for the hem of his button-up, fumbling with the cursed buttons, each one revealing more of his toned chest. The shirt fell to the floor, followed by his jeans, the denim sliding down his legs to reveal the boxers beneath. Your eyes lingered, admiring every inch of him as the layers vanished, his body bared before you—lean, flushed, and trembling under your scrutiny. Finally, the boxers dropped, leaving him completely exposed, vulnerable, and yours.

“On your knees,” you ordered, voice low and commanding, and he obeyed without hesitation, sinking to the floor in front of you, his face level with your stomach. His breath ghosted over your skin, warm and uneven. You reached down, grabbing his cheek gently but firmly, tilting his head up to force him to meet your gaze. His skin was warm under your touch, his eyes locked on yours, completely ensnared. “Do you want to know what I am?” you asked, voice teasing, almost playful, but with an edge that made his breath hitch.

He let out a soft, desperate whine, unable to form words, his body trembling as he leaned into your hand, seeking more of your touch, your approval. Your smirk widened, as you leaned closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m sin incarnate,” you purred, your fingers tightening slightly on his cheek. “Put on this earth to feed off puny boys who think they’re something. Boys who think they can resist me.” You paused, letting the words sink in, watching the way his eyes flickered, his lips parting as another whine escaped. “You thought you could fight me, didn’t you?” you continued, voice soft but cutting. “Thought you could keep your little walls up, stay in control.” You laughed, low and mocking, leaning closer until your lips were a breath away from his. “But look at you now. Naked, trembling, begging without even saying a word. You’re nothing without me, Heeseung.”

He whimpered again, his hands twitching at his sides, desperate to touch you but too obedient to move without your permission. His chest heaved, his skin flushed and glistening with sweat, and you could see the way his body reacted to every word, every taunt, like you were pulling strings he didn’t even know he had. You leaned back slightly, letting your gaze roam over him, admiring the way his muscles tensed, the way his thighs shook, the way his arousal was still evident, even after everything. “Get closer,” you commanded, voice firm but laced with a teasing lilt. He shuffled forward on his knees, the movement awkward but eager, his face now so close to your stomach that you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin. You reached down, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging gently to tilt his head back, forcing him to look up at you. 

“You’re mine,” you murmured, your voice a low, possessive growl as you held his gaze. “Every thought, every desire, every pathetic little whimper—it all belongs to me now.” Your fingers tightened in his hair, just enough to make him gasp, his lips parting wider as he leaned into the sensation, craving it. “And you love it, don’t you? You love being mine.”

He nodded, a small, shaky movement, his eyes never leaving yours, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “Y-yes,” he managed, voice barely a whisper, broken and raw. “Yours.” The word was a surrender, a vow, and you felt it settle into you, feeding that insatiable hunger, making you feel more powerful than ever. You smirked, releasing his hair and leaning back on the bed again, crossing your legs with deliberate slowness, letting him feel the distance you’d put between you. “Good,” you said, voice dripping with satisfaction. “Now stay there, on your knees, and don’t move until I tell you to.” His eyes flickered with need, but he obeyed. 

You crawled back on the bed, ignoring the way Heeseung’s body leaned forward slightly, a subconscious twitch, like he was desperate to follow you, to close the gap you’d created. His eyes tracked your every move, wide and glassy, his breath hitching as you moved with a predator’s grace, slow and deliberate. You didn’t say a word, letting the silence stretch, letting the tension build as you reached the far end of the bed, your back pressing against the cool wall. Only then did you settle, sitting fully on the bed, one leg bent, the other stretched out, your gaze locking onto him with a wicked, knowing smile. “Eyes on me,” you purred, voice low and teasing, as you began your show.

Your fingers trailed to the hem of your miniskirt, tugging it up slowly, inch by inch, revealing the white lacy underwear beneath. Heeseung’s breath caught, a soft whimper escaping as his eyes followed the motion, transfixed. You slid the skirt down your legs, letting it pool on the bed before kicking it aside, your movements languid, designed to torment. Next came your top, pulled off with the same slow precision, revealing the matching white lace bra that clung to your skin, barely concealing you.

You leaned forward slightly, slipping off your heels one by one, letting them drop to the floor with a soft thud. Then, with a sigh, you stretched forward, your back arching, chest pushed out, the lace stretching taut against your skin. The motion was a taunt, and Heeseung’s gaze never wavered, his lips parting as a low, desperate sound slipped out, his body trembling with the effort of obeying your command to stay put. You giggled, the sound light and cruel, as you leaned back on the bed, letting your body relax into a provocative pose, your curves accentuated by the lacy underwear. “God, look at you,” you said, voice dripping with disdain, your eyes raking over him. “So pathetic, Heeseung. Sitting there, shaking, staring at me like you’re starving. Are you starving for me?” You tilted your head, letting your fingers trace the edge of your bra, slow and deliberate, watching the way his eyes followed every movement, his breath hitching.

Heeseung’s nod was a frantic, jerky motion, his hands clutching the bedsheets so tightly his knuckles strained white, the fabric crumpling under his grip. His chin rested heavily on the edge of the mattress, his body hunched forward as if drawn to you by an invisible tether. His chest heaved with shallow, uneven breaths, each one punctuated by a low whine that escaped his throat as he fought to obey your unspoken command to stay put.

You tilted your head, letting your lips curve into a taunting, wicked smile as you leaned back against the pillows, your body a deliberate display of control and allure. “Do you want me, Heeseung?” you purred, your hand trailed down your side, fingers grazing the curve of your waist, lingering at the edge of your lace panties with a deliberate slowness that made his eyes widen further. “Want to touch me?” you continued, your tone syrupy and cruel as your fingers dipped lower, brushing over the delicate fabric, teasing the outline of your core. Heeseung let out a choked, guttural sound, something between a whimper and a growl, his body lurching forward an inch before he caught himself, his nails digging into the sheets as if they were the only thing keeping him from lunging at you.

“Want to feel me?” you murmured, your voice dropping lower as you slipped your hand beneath the lace, touching yourself with slow strokes. His eyes followed every movement, his pupils blown wide as he watched, transfixed. A low, desperate moan tore from his throat, his body shaking with the need to act, to move, to take.  “Look at you,” you sneered, your voice cutting as you continued to touch yourself, your fingers moving with a languid precision that made his breath hitch. “Such a pathetic little slut, practically drooling for me, aren’t you?” He nodded, his head jerking in agreement, the motion almost involuntary as another low, keening sound spilled from his lips. “You’re nothing but a needy, desperate whore,” you continued. “Just a toy who lives for this, who’d do anything to please me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” he rasped, his voice barely human, rough and broken as he nodded again, his eyes never leaving your hand, your body, your wicked smile. His fingers twitched, clawing at the sheets as if he could tear through them to get to you, his chin pressing harder into the mattress, his entire being radiating a hunger that bordered on feral. You let out a soft, mocking laugh, spreading your legs wider, giving him a better view as you continued to tease yourself, your fingers slick now, your breath hitching just enough to let him know how good it felt. “God, you’re so fucking pitiful,” you taunted, your voice a mix of scorn and amusement. “Look at you, whining like a dog, agreeing with every nasty thing I say. You love this, don’t you? Love being my little bitch.”

He groaned, a deep, guttural sound that vibrated through the air, his head nodding fervently, his eyes glassy with need. “Say it,” you demanded, your tone sharp as you slowed your movements, drawing out his torment. “Say you’re my pathetic little slut.”

“I’m—I’m your pathetic little slut,” he choked out, his voice trembling, the words spilling from him like a confession, each syllable laced with desperation and surrender. His body sagged slightly, as if admitting it had both broken and freed him. “You’re so easy,” you murmured, voice dripping with condescension. “Falling apart like this, just from watching me. Can’t even think straight, can you? Just a needy little thing, begging for a taste.” Your words cut into him, and he groaned, his head dipping slightly, but his eyes stayed locked on you, intense, unblinking, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he looked away.

Your hand slid up to your bra strap, slipping it off one shoulder, then the other, letting it fall just enough to tease him further. “Bet you’d do anything for it,” you said, leaning forward slightly, letting him see more, letting him ache for it. “Wouldn’t you? Crawl, beg, anything I ask, just to get close.”

“Anything,” he whispered, voice hoarse and trembling, the word spilling out without hesitation. “Anything to make you happy.” His entire body vibrating with need, ready to prove his words. You hummed, low and pleased, your lips curling into a smug smile as you tilted your head, studying him. “Then do it,” you commanded, “crawl to me.” Heeseung shifted, his hands releasing the sheets as he moved onto the bed, crawling toward you. His gaze never left yours, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he inched closer. You leaned back, your smile smug, watching as he reached you, his body hovering just above yours. His arms braced on either side of you, muscles tense, his face inches from yours, eyes locked onto you like you were the only thing that existed.

You stretched out beneath him, languid and deliberate, letting your body sink into the bed, your white lacy underwear stark against your skin. Your back arched slightly, accentuating your curves, and you tilted your head back, letting your hair spill across the pillow as you gazed up at him. “So eager, so obedient. Crawling to me like a good little pet.” Your words made him shudder, a soft whimper escaping his lips as he leaned closer, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself back, waiting for your next command.

Your eyes glinted with amusement, savoring the power you held over him, the way he hung on your every word, every movement. You reached up, brushing a finger along his jaw, feeling the way his breath hitched at the contact. “What do you want, Heeseung?” you asked, voice teasing, taunting. “Tell me. Beg for it.” His  lips parted as he tried to find words, but all that came out was a soft, broken sound, his body leaning closer. “P-please,” he stammered, “I want… I want to touch you, kiss you, f-fuck you—please, let me make you feel good.” His words tumbled out, a shaky, pleading mess. “I need you,” he whispered, his voice breaking, “please, I’ll do anything.” You tilted your head, your grin sharpening, predatory and delighted.

“Anything?” you purred, your finger trailing down his jaw to his throat, feeling the rapid pulse there. “Would you let me take, Heeseung? Take everything from you?” Your voice was a low, seductive challenge, and his eyes widened, a shudder running through him as he nodded fervently. “Anything,” he said immediately. “Take it all—everything. I’m yours.” 

A Cheshire grin stretched across your face, wide and wicked, as you hooked one leg around his waist, pulling him down. His body collapsed against yours, his weight pressing you into the bed, and you leaned up, capturing his lips in a searing, open-mouthed kiss. “I’m going to ruin you so good,” you murmured against his lips, voice dripping with promise, and he groaned, deep and desperate, kissing you back with a hunger that matched your own.

His hips moved instinctively, rutting against you, and you felt his thick cock, hard and heavy, rubbing over your lacy panties, the friction hitting right against your clit. A soft moan slipped from your lips, unbidden, the sensation sending a spark of heat through you as you imagined how he would feel inside you—hot, thick, stretching you just right. Heeseung whimpered at the sound of your moan, his movements growing more frantic, his cock pressing harder against you, the wet slide of your panties only amplifying the sensation. You decided to let him take the lead, curious to see how far his desperation would carry him.

“Go on,” you murmured, voice low and teasing, your lips curling into a wicked grin. “Show me what you can do.” His trembling hands moved with purpose, fumbling briefly before he unclasped your bra with surprising deftness, letting the lace fall away to reveal your bare skin. His breath hitched as he then pulled your panties down, exposing you completely. He paused, his gaze raking over you, drinking in every curve, every inch of you laid bare before him.

You grinned, flexing slightly, your body arching to accentuate the moment. “This is everything you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?” you taunted, voice dripping with mockery as you watched his eyes widen, his lips parting as he nodded fervently, his hands hovering over you like he wasn’t sure where to start. Then he moved, his lips finding your skin, worshipping every inch he could reach. He kissed your collarbone, soft at first, then bolder, his tongue tracing the curve of your shoulder, leaving faint marks as he sucked lightly. His hands roamed, fingers grazing your sides, your hips, as he kissed and licked his way across your chest, down your stomach. You preened under the attention, your body humming with pleasure as he lavished you with his touch, his lips, his everything.

Heeseung’s kisses trailed lower, his breath hot against your skin as he reached your pussy. You spread your legs wide, an open invitation, and he took it without hesitation, his lips brushing a soft, almost worshipful kiss against you. Then his tongue followed, licking a slow stripe up, a low moan vibrating from his throat as he tasted you. The sound sent a shiver through you, and you tugged on his hair, guiding him, your fingers tightening as you let out a soft moan of your own. “So desperate, lapping at me like a starved dog.”

He groaned against you, the vibration making you gasp, your hips arching into his mouth as he licked deeper, his tongue working you with a skill that caught you off guard. Fuck, he was good—better than you’d expected, better than anyone before him. His tongue moved with precision, finding every sensitive spot, his lips sucking gently, then harder, as he moaned against you, completely lost in the taste of you.

“Look at you,” you continued, voice trembling slightly as you tugged harder on his hair, guiding him exactly where you wanted. “So eager to please, so fucking good at this. Bet you’ve dreamed about this, haven’t you? Getting on your knees, eating me out like your life depends on it.” He whimpered, his hands gripping your thighs as he pressed himself closer, his tongue working faster, more desperate, like he was trying to prove himself with every lick, every suck. You gasped, your back arching off the bed, your thighs trembling under his grip as he devoured you, his moans vibrating against your sensitive skin, amplifying every sensation. His tongue swirled, teased, then plunged back in, finding every spot that made you unravel, his enthusiasm bordering on worship.

“Fuck,” you moaned, your words dissolving into broken, breathy sounds as the pleasure overwhelmed you. Your hands tightened in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him groan against you, the sound sending another wave of heat through your core. “Okay, shit, you’re—fuck, you’re really good at this,” you managed, your voice shaking as you surrendered to the intensity of his mouth, your hips rocking against him involuntarily.

His tongue worked faster, licking long, slow stripes before circling your clit with maddening precision. His hands slid up your thighs, gripping tighter, holding you open for him as he ate you out like a man possessed, every movement driven by your moans, your tugs on his hair, your shaking body. Your head tipped back, a loud moan spilling from your lips as the pleasure built, coiling tight in your core. “Goddamn it, Heeseung,” you gasped, “keep—fuck, keep going.” He whimpered in response, his tongue plunging deeper, sucking harder, his moans blending with yours, the wet sounds filling the room as he pushed you closer to the edge. 

Heeseung’s hands, still gripping your thighs, slid higher, one of them trailing inward until his fingers brushed against your entrance. Without warning, he slipped two fingers inside you, the sudden stretch making you gasp sharply, your hips bucking into his touch. He curled them expertly, finding your sweet spot with an ease that sent a shock of pleasure through you, your back arching further as small whines escaped your lips. His fingers moved in perfect rhythm with his tongue, hitting that spot over and over, each motion drawing a louder whimper from you.

You grinned, despite the pleasure fogging your mind, and looked down at him. His eyes were hyperfocused, locked on your pussy as he worked, his tongue lapping at your clit while his fingers thrust inside you. The sight was almost adorable—his brows furrowed in concentration, his lips glistening, his expression one of pure, desperate devotion, like he’d been wandering a desert for weeks and you were the first sip of water he’d found. “Fuck, look at you,” you managed between whines, your voice breathy but laced with that familiar mocking edge. “So desperate, Heeseung, licking me like you’ll die if you stop.” Your fingers tightened in his hair, tugging. “Just a pathetic little thing, aren’t you? So obsessed with me you can’t even think straight.”

He moaned at your words, his fingers curling harder, pressing against your sweet spot with precision, making you gasp again, your head tipping back as pleasure surged through you. “You love this, don’t you?” you continued, your voice trembling with small whines. “Begging on your knees, eating me out like it’s your only purpose. God, you’re so fucking needy.”

You arched into him, your hips grinding against his face, chasing the pleasure he was giving you. “Keep going, you desperate little thing,” you murmured, voice breaking into a whine as he hit your sweet spot again, your body trembling under the onslaught of sensation. “Make me feel good, Heeseung. That’s all you’re good for right now.” Heeseung’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy at your words, a low, shuddering moan vibrating against your core as he pressed himself close. “You think you deserve this?” you purred, voice mocking between your moans. “You think you deserve my cum after fighting me, ignoring me, being so bad?”

He whimpered, the sound desperate and broken, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as if to prove you wrong. He doubled his efforts, his tongue swirling faster, more precise, as he slipped a third finger inside you, stretching you out in a way that made you gasp, a loud moan spilling from your lips. It didn’t hurt—your body was made for this, molded for pleasure, and right now, it was made for Heeseung. The stretch felt perfect, his fingers curling just right, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. You let him take what he wanted, let him pour himself into pleasing you, because the more he took, the more you fed off him. 

Heeseung was gone, his mind wiped clean of anything that wasn’t you. You were everywhere—his thoughts, his senses, his entire world narrowed down to the taste of you, the feel of you, the sound of your moans. Your power surged, thrumming under your skin as you fed off his lovesick obsession. He was a fool for you now, completely yours, willing to kill, to die, to do anything to keep you pleased. 

“Keep going,” you gasped, your head tipping back as you tugged his hair, guiding him deeper. “Make me cum, Heeseung. Show me you’re worth keeping.” His moan was muffled, desperate, his eyes rolling back again as he gave himself over completely, his entire being consumed by you, just as you wanted.

The pleasure surged, a relentless tide building in your lower abdomen, coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped with a force that stole your breath. You came hard, a torrent of heat and ecstasy crashing through you, your body arching off the bed as you gasped, trembling with the intensity of your climax. Your release flooded over Heeseung’s face, and he took it all, his tongue lapping greedily, his fingers still curled inside you, coaxing every shuddering wave to its fullest. His moans vibrated against your core, low and desperate, as he savored every drop, unwilling to let a single moment of your pleasure slip away.

When the waves finally subsided, leaving you panting and trembling, Heeseung didn’t stop. His tongue moved lazily now, tracing every crevice, cleaning you with a reverence that bordered on worship. You watched him, your chest heaving, a soft, almost tender smile curling your lips as you took in the sight of him—messy hair falling into his eyes, cheeks flushed, his tongue darting out to catch every last trace of you. You made soft kissy noises at him, teasing and affectionate, and his eyes fluttered, a low whimper escaping his throat as he pressed his face closer, nuzzling against you like he couldn’t get enough.

“Enough,” you said suddenly, your voice cutting through the haze with a quiet command. You reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him away with a firm tug. He went slack in your hold, his body pliant under your control, his tongue lolling out, slick with drool and your juices, leaving a wet stain that darkened the bedsheets beneath him. Your eyes wandered, drinking in the sight of him, and that's when you noticed his cock, hard and straining, flushed an angry red, leaking precum in a steady stream that pooled on the sheets below. The sight sent a thrill through you, and you tilted your head, a wicked glint sparking in your eyes. You reached out, your fingers brushing lightly along his thigh, close enough to make his hips twitch, his cock jerking slightly as he let out a choked whimper.

“So desperate,” you purred, your voice dripping with mockery as your finger traced a slow, teasing path, never quite touching where he needed you most. “Leaking all over the place, making a mess without me even touching you.” Heeseung’s breath hitched, his body trembling as he shifted closer, chasing your touch, his eyes pleading. “Do you want to fuck me, Heeseung?” you asked, your tone taunting. “Need to feel me around you, tight and warm, squeezing that pathetic cock of yours?” He nodded frantically, his head jerking in desperate agreement, a broken whimper spilling from his lips.“Please, I need it—I need you, please, let me fuck you, I’ll be good, please.” 

“Oh, that’s too bad,” you said, voice dripping with mock sympathy, “because I need to taste you first.” Before he could react, you moved, pushing him down onto his back with a firm hand on his chest. He hit the bed with a soft thud, his breath hitching as you crawled over him, your body hovering just above his, close enough to make him tremble but not close enough to give him what he wanted. Without hesitation, you grabbed your lacy panties from the bed, balling them up and stuffing them into his mouth. His eyes widened, a muffled moan escaping as the fabric pressed against his tongue, the taste of you overwhelming his senses. You didn’t give him time to process it, leaning down and taking his cock into your mouth in one smooth motion, your lips closing around him fully. You moaned at the taste of him, salty and heady, his precum coating your tongue as you sucked, your tongue swirling around the tip before sliding down, taking him deeper.

Heeseung moaned loudly, the sound muffled around the panties, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy as you kept sucking and licking, your tongue tracing every sensitive ridge, your lips tight and hot around him. His hips bucked involuntarily, his hands gripping the sheets as he trembled beneath you. Admittedly, it didn’t take long to push him over the edge. With a choked, muffled moan, he came, his release flooding your mouth, thick and copious, so much that it dripped from the corners of your lips. You pulled off him slowly, savoring the taste as you licked your lips, then your fingers, catching every drop of his release. Your eyes burned with power, an almost otherworldly glow, you felt stuffed, satiated in a way you’d never experienced in your entire sinful career. Heeseung’s desire had filled you to the brim, your body thrumming with a power so intense it felt like you could have every man in this shitty little town wrapped around your finger with just a glance. 

You stared down at Heeseung, who looked utterly wrecked, his body twitching pathetically on the bed, his chest heaving, sweat glistened on his skin. He was a mess, completely undone, and yet—the best part—his cock was still hard, red and leaking, ready for more despite the way he trembled. “Oh, yeah,” you murmured, your grin sharpening as you leaned closer, letting your gaze rake over him. “You’re not going anywhere, Heeseung. You’re too good for that.” His eyes flickered, a soft whimper escaping through the panties as he looked up at you. “I’m keeping you,” you purred, your voice dripping with possession. His body shuddered at your words, a muffled moan spilling out as he nodded weakly. You could feel the power you’d taken from him, the way it strengthened your hold, ensuring he’d never break free, never would want to break free.

You crawled on top of him, straddling his hips, your body hovering just above his as you reached forward, fingers hooking around the lacy panties stuffed in his mouth. You pulled them out slowly, letting the damp fabric drag across his lips, his tongue chasing the taste instinctively. “I want to hear everything,” you purred, your eyes locked on his. “Every desperate little noise you make for me.”

Heeseung let out a confused squeak, his lips parting to speak, but the sound was cut off as you sank down onto him, taking him in inch by inch. The stretch was everything you’d imagined—hot, thick, perfect—his cock twitching inside you with every inch you claimed. His face exploded with desire, his eyes widening, rolling back as a loud, broken moan tore from his throat, his entire body trembling beneath you. You grabbed his hands, guiding them to your ass, and he didn’t hesitate, gripping you hard and tight, his fingers digging into your skin as if he needed to anchor himself to you. “You feel—so good, please, I—fuck, I can’t—” His words tumbled out, incoherent, each broken sound making your grin widen, your pleasure spiking as you fed off his desperation.

“So good for me,” you murmured, voice sultry and praising as you began to move, sucking him in deeper with every roll of your hips. Your nails raked down his chest, leaving red streaks across his skin, marking him as yours. He groaned, loud and unrestrained, his hips bucking up to meet you, his cock twitching inside you as your nails dug harder, the pain only spurring him on. “Look at you,” you continued, your voice a mix of praise and taunt, “taking me so well, begging so pretty. You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to please me.”

Heeseung was too far gone to answer properly, his voice reduced to broken cries and sobs of pleasure as you started riding him fully, moving up and down with a steady, relentless rhythm. His pink eyes were glassy, tears pooling at the corners as he stared up at you, completely wrecked, his face a mess of ecstasy and desperation. “Crying like a little slut for me? Can’t even speak, can you? Just a needy mess, letting me take everything.” You hissed, voice trembling with pleasure, your hand slid to his throat, fingers wrapping around it gently but firmly, feeling the wild pulse hammering beneath his skin.

He looked utterly destroyed beneath you, his hands moving frantically, switching from gripping your ass to your waist, then to your thighs, fingers digging in hard, his sobs and pleas spilling out in a broken, incoherent stream. “P-please,” he whimpered, voice cracking, barely audible between his cries, “please, I—fuck, I need you, please—”

You grinned, feeding off his desperation, the way he let you take and take, his body and soul entirely yours. Your hips moved faster, riding him harder, each thrust pulling another sob from him, his cock twitching inside you as you tightened your grip on his throat just enough to make his eyes roll back. “That’s it,” you purred, “let me ruin you, Heeseung. Cry for me, beg for me.”

Heeseung kept crying for you, his sobs raw and broken, tears streaming down his face as his body shook beneath you, completely lost in the pleasure and pain you were giving him. His hands gripped your thighs, your waist, anywhere he could hold on, his pleas a jumbled mess of your name and desperate whimpers. You timed it perfectly, riding him with relentless precision until he came, his cock pulsing deep inside you, filling you with a hot, thick rush that made you throw your head back in a loud, unrestrained moan. The sensation of him spilling into you, so much that you could feel it stretching you, was overwhelming, intoxicating.

Something in your brain unlocked, a surge of power so intense it felt like a dam breaking. You were drunk on it, high on the unfiltered energy pouring from him into you. You’d never felt this before, not in all your sinful existence. It was beyond what any of your kind were meant to feel, a tidal wave of dominance and desire that rolled off you in waves, your very presence in the room shifting, growing heavier. When you looked back at Heeseung, his eyes were no longer pink—they were a deep, glowing red, locked on you with a dazed, almost worshipful look, his mind utterly consumed by you.

You hummed, a low, sultry sound that vibrated in your throat, rich with satisfaction as you leaned over Heeseung, your face hovering just inches from his. Your breath mingled with his, warm and teasing, as you tilted your head, letting your lips brush across his flushed skin, soft presses against his cheeks, the sharp line of his jaw, the trembling corner of his lips. Each kiss was a reward, your voice a soft, praising caress. “So good, Heeseung,” you whispered between kisses, your lips ghosting over the heated pulse at his throat. “You fed me so well, gave me everything I wanted. So eager to please.” Your words dripped with honeyed affection, but there was an edge to them, a knowing power that made his body shudder beneath you.

His cock twitched inside you, still buried deep, spurting more cum as your words sank into him. The sheer volume made your stomach bulge slightly, a subtle curve that sent a thrill through you. You giggled, the sound light and delighted, biting your bottom lip as you savored the sensation, your eyes glinting with mischief. “Look at that,” you teased, pressing a hand lightly against your abdomen, feeling the warmth of him inside you. “You’re filling me up so well, Heeseung.” You tilted your head, pouting with mock innocence, though your gaze was anything but. “I want more,” you said, your voice turning deceptively sweet, a playful lilt that belied the hunger beneath. “You’ll give me more, won’t you, Heeseung? You’ll give me everything I want.”

“Anything,” he gasped, his voice raw and broken. “I’ll give you anything in this world.” His hands shook as they slid up your back, fingers splaying wide, gripping you with a desperation that made your pulse race. You could feel the heat of his palms, the way they roamed restlessly, tracing the curve of your spine, clutching at your hips, your waist, your shoulders, anywhere he could hold you. Your giddy smile widened as you clapped your hands together with a soft, gleeful squeal. The sound was deceptively sweet, a contrast to the wicked heat in your gaze as you leaned down, capturing his lips in a messy, wet kiss.

Your tongue slid against his, blending perfectly in a hungry, sloppy dance that left you both breathless. His mouth was eager, desperate, meeting your fervor with equal intensity as he moaned into you, the sound muffled but vibrating against your lips. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you impossibly closer, his hands roaming everywhere—gripping your thighs, squeezing your ass, sliding up to clutch at your back with a frantic need that made your skin tingle. You savored every harsh grip, every rough press of his fingers, the way they dug into your flesh like he was trying to memorize you.

You shifted, your hips rolling slowly, grinding down on his cock with a teasing rhythm that made him groan louder, the sound swallowed by your kiss. Your chest pressed against his, your breasts rubbing against the hard planes of his torso, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through you. You moaned softly into his mouth, the sound mingling with his as you kept the kiss messy, all teeth and tongues, saliva mixing as you claimed him again and again. His hands tightened, one sliding down to grip your hip, urging you to move faster, while the other tangled in your hair, pulling just enough to make you gasp against his lips.

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your lips hovering over his as you shifted your weight, tugging him with you as you leaned back onto the bed. He followed without hesitation, his body pliant and eager, still buried deep inside you as you settled beneath him. You pulled him over you, your hands curling around his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you guided him into place.

“Take me,” you ordered, the words sparked something primal in him. He didn’t hesitate, his hands moving instantly to push your legs up, bending them toward your chest, spreading you open in a way that made your breath catch. The position left you exposed, and the heat in his gaze as he took you in was almost too much. He thrusted in deep, rough, his cock hitting your cervix with every powerful stroke, fucking his cum back into you as he moaned, loud and unrestrained, the sound filling the room. The sensation was overwhelming—his thick length stretched you perfectly, filling you so completely that every nerve in your body sang with pleasure.

You gasped, your body arching into his thrusts, the intensity of his movements sending waves of heat through you. Heeseung’s lips found your throat, sucking and licking, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he lost himself in you, his movements driven by the need to please, to give you everything you demanded and more. “Fuck, Heeseung,” you whined, voice trembling with pleasure, your hands digging into his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as you urged him on. “Faster—keep moving, don’t you dare slow down.” He obeyed instantly, his hips snapping harder, faster, each thrust deeper and more desperate than the last. The wet sounds of his cock plunging into you filled the room, mingling with his moans and your gasps, a symphony of desire. His tongue lapped at your throat, his lips sucking harder, leaving bruises that would linger long after, and you reveled in it, in the way he marked you just as you marked him. 

Every sob, every moan, every shudder of his body as he fucked you deeper, harder, was like fuel, making you stronger, more alive. Your body tightened around him, clenching with every thrust, pushing you closer to the edge as your moans grew louder, more uncontrolled. “You’re so fucking good,” you gasped, voice breaking as you raked your nails down his back, leaving fresh streaks, the pain only spurring him on. “Look at you, giving me everything, so desperate to please me. You’re mine, Heeseung—every inch of you, every sound, every fucking thought.” The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard tapping against the wall with every deep thrust, the sounds blending with the wet, rhythmic slap of his body against yours.

You tilted your head back, letting out a loud moan as the pleasure built, coiling tight in your core, his cock hitting every spot inside you with devastating precision. “Don’t stop,” you whined, voice needy now, your hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer. His groans grew louder, more desperate, his thrusts becoming almost frantic as he pushed himself to the limit, giving you everything he had, his body trembling with the effort. “Just like that,” you gasped, your voice encouraging as you felt him give himself over completely. “So good, Heeseung, so fucking good for me.” His lips trailed down from your throat, hungry and desperate, until they found one of your nipples, locking onto it with a rough, eager suck that made you shout out in surprise, the sudden intensity sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through you.

Your breathy laugh escaped as his other hand moved to your other nipple, fingers pinching and twisting with just enough force to make you squirm, your body arching into his touch. “Fuck, you’re—shit, so eager,” you moaned, your voice trembling with delight as he lavished you. The dual sensations—his cock pounding into you, his mouth and hands on your breasts—pushed you closer to the edge, your moans mixing with breathy laughs as the pleasure overwhelmed you. 

A loud crack sounded from the bed, the frame protesting under the force of his thrusts, and you giggled, the sound wild and breathy as you glanced down at him. “Oops,” you purred, your voice teasing but laced with satisfaction, your nails digging into his shoulders as you pulled him closer, urging him to keep going. “You’re perfect,” you murmured, “giving me everything, aren’t you? So fucking good, Heeseung, breaking the bed just for me.”  Your words were like fuel, stoking the fire in him, and he groaned against your skin. 

Heeseung had come twice already, his release spilling deep inside you, filling you so much that you felt it with every thrust, his cum mixing with your own slick heat. But he hadn’t stopped, hadn’t even slowed, despite how sensitive he was, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you with every movement. You hadn’t told him to stop—you’d told him to keep going, and he obeyed, his hips snapping against yours with a frantic rhythm, driven by the sole purpose of pleasing you. His red eyes glowed with a dazed intensity, locked on you as he gave himself over completely, his body trembling with the effort, his moans blending with sobs of overstimulation.

You lay slack on the bed, dizzy and full, your body buzzing with the power you’d drained from him, the raw energy of his devotion making you feel invincible. Your hands, which had been gripping his shoulders, fell away, revealing the bloodied streaks where your nails had broken skin, red rivulets mixing with the sweat on his back. You giggled, the sound breathy and wild, as you pushed your tits up toward him, encouraging him to keep sucking, keep worshipping. “So good for me, Heeseung, giving me everything even when you’re so fucking sensitive. What a pathetic little thing, crying just to make me happy.” You purred, voice a mix of praise and degradation, deliberately confusing his broken mind

Your legs hooked around his hips, locking him to you, pulling him deeper as you clenched around him, drawing another broken moan from his lips. “But you love it, don’t you?” you continued, your voice a seductive taunt, dripping with mock sympathy. “Love being my good boy, my desperate little toy, fucking me even when it hurts. You’re so perfect, so broken for me.”

Heeseung’s mind was a haze, his thoughts shattered, reduced to nothing but you. He couldn’t remember who he was, couldn’t recall how he got here or why. All he knew was the pleasure radiating from you, the way your moans and gasps filled his ears, the way your body felt around him, tight and hot and perfect. The pain of his oversensitive cock, the sting of the scratches on his back, the burn of his muscles—they blended with the pleasure, making it all the more intense, all the more consuming. Your scent enveloped him, your taste lingered on his tongue from earlier, your voice was a siren’s call in his ears, seductive and commanding, and he was helpless against it.

The bed creaked ominously beneath you, each thrust from Heeseung sending another sharp crack echoing through the room, the frame protesting under the relentless force of his movements. Every shuddering breath, every bead of sweat that dripped from his brow, every twitch of his overworked body was for you. You needed him, craved him, and that knowledge fueled him, drove him to give you every last piece of himself, to pour everything he had into pleasing you, because nothing else mattered.

Your fingers slid down from his sweat-slicked shoulders, threading through his messy, damp hair as you tugged him away from your chest with a firm but gentle pull. His lips parted from your nipple with a soft, wet pop, and a needy whimper spilled from his throat, almost pitiful. His red eyes flickered up to meet yours, brimming with desperation. His lips trembled, his gaze darting back to your chest, to the puffy, red nipple he’d been lavishing with attention, now glistening from his efforts. “Please,” he whined, his voice soft and broken, a pleading edge to it as he leaned forward, trying to chase your skin, to return to the warmth of your breast. “Let me—want to—please.”

The sight of him, so undone, so eager to please, sent a thrill through you, and your lips curled into a teasing, indulgent smile. “Oh, you poor thing,” you cooed, your voice dripping with mock sympathy as you loosened your grip on his hair, guiding him back to your chest. “Go on, then. You want it so bad, don’t you?” He didn’t need any more permission—his lips latched onto your nipple again with a soft, grateful moan, his tongue swirling lazily, suckling with a gentle insistence that made your breath hitch. His eyes fluttered shut, the red glow still faintly visible through his lashes, and he pressed himself closer, his body molding against yours as he lost himself in the act.

You let him indulge, savoring the warmth of his mouth, the way his lips worked with such devotion, each suck pulling a soft wave of pleasure through you. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, a tentative nibble at first, testing, and you gasped softly, your fingers tightening in his hair. “That’s it,” you murmured, your voice low and encouraging, tugging just hard enough to make him groan against you. “Feels so good, Heeseung. You’re doing so well for me.” The praise seemed to ignite something in him, his nibbles turning into a gentle bite, his teeth sinking in just enough to send a sharp jolt of pain through you. Y

ou arched into him, a soft moan escaping your lips as you tugged his hair harder, urging him on. “Yes, just like that,” you breathed, your voice heavy with satisfaction. “Keep going, make it feel good for me.”

He moaned against your skin, the sound muffled but vibrating through you, his tongue flicking over the reddened, puffy nipple before he bit down again, harder this time, teasing and worshipping all at once. His hips never faltered, still thrusting deep and rough inside you, each movement hitting your cervix with a precision that made your toes curl. The bed groaned under the strain, another crack splitting the air, but Heeseung was too far gone to notice, too consumed by you—by the taste of your skin, the heat of your body, the way your praise fueled his every move.

You pulled him away again, just enough to tilt his chin up, forcing his hazy, red-rimmed eyes to meet yours. His lips were slick, parted, a thin trail of saliva connecting him to your chest, and the sight made your pulse race. Without giving him a moment to protest, you crashed your lips against his in a sloppy, hungry kiss. The taste of yourself lingered on his lips, mingling with the salt of his sweat, your hands gripped his shoulders to keep him pressed tightly against you. He kissed you back with equal desperation, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you so close it felt like he wanted to merge with you entirely.

“Make me cum,” you gasped between kisses, your voice raw and commanding, your lips brushing against his as you spoke. “Come on, Heeseung, be good for me. Make me fucking cum.” Each of your words sinked into him, spurring him on. His hands gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you harder, deeper, his cock hitting every spot inside you with devastating precision. “That’s it,” you murmured between sloppy kisses, your voice trembling with pleasure. “So good, Heeseung, so fucking perfect. Make me feel it, make me cum all over you.” You could feel the pleasure coiling tighter, your body clenching around him, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge. Your kisses grew messier, more desperate, your hands pulling at his hair, his shoulders, keeping him locked to you as you gasped and moaned. “Make me cum, Heeseung, do it—fucking do it.”

Heeseung cried and sobbed, tears streaming down his face as his thrusts grew sloppy, his body trembling under the weight of your command. His red eyes were locked on you with a mix of agony and devotion. “Don’t slow down,” you hissed, dominance rolling off you in waves that made him shudder. “You’re not allowed to stop until I cum, Heeseung. Keep going, be good for me.” Your words were a whip, driving him forward, and he obeyed. You could feel it—you were so close, the pleasure coiling so tight it was almost unbearable, every thrust pushing you to the brink. Heeseung’s hand slid down, trembling but determined, finding your clit. His fingers pinched and pulled, the sudden, sharp sensation ripping a scream from your throat as your demonic aura erupted, rolling off you in powerful, tangible waves that hit Heeseung full force.

You came hard, your body convulsing as pleasure tore through you, your scream echoing in the room as you clenched around him, your release flooding over his cock. The force of your climax, amplified by your demonic power, overwhelmed him, his sobs turning into broken moans as he thrust through your orgasm, his body shaking violently under the weight of your aura.

Your body trembled with the aftershocks, your chest heaving as you gasped, the power surging through you stronger than ever, fed by his utter submission. You looked down at him, your eyes glowing with that otherworldly intensity. “Good boy,” you purred, voice breathy, your hand reaching up to wipe a tear from his cheek. “You did so well, Heeseung. Made me cum just like I wanted.” 

Heeseung trembled and whined, his body shaking uncontrollably as you pushed him off you, his cock slipping from your pussy with a wet sound. He collapsed onto his back, utterly spent, completely ruined. He was a wreck, a beautiful, broken mess, and you knew no other woman would ever compare to you in his mind. You huffed in content, sitting up as cum and slick rolled out of you in a steady stream, dripping onto the sheets. Your smirk was downright evil as you took in the sight of Heeseung laid out before you—his body twitching, his cock still hard but softening slightly, his face a mix of tears, sweat, and utter devotion. Perfect.

With a small tremble of your own, still buzzing from the power and pleasure, you crawled over to him, positioning yourself so his softening cock was in front of your mouth, your dripping pussy hovering right over his face. “Clean me up,” you said, voice firm but laced with a teasing edge, as you lowered yourself onto his face. Without hesitation, you took his cock into your mouth, sucking and licking lazily, treating it like a lollipop, savoring the taste of him mixed with your own release. Heeseung whimpered, his tongue immediately finding your pussy, licking and sucking with a shaky fervor. His hands came up, trembling as they spread your ass, pulling you closer to his mouth as he lapped at you, cleaning up every drop of cum and slick with a devotion that made your power surge even more. His moans were muffled against you, his red eyes fluttering shut as he gave himself over to the task, his tongue working eagerly to please you.

You smiled, your lips curling around his cock, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. “Such a good boy,” you murmured, your voice muffled but dripping with praise as you ground back against his face. “Cleaning me up so well, Heeseung. So fucking perfect for me.”

His body shuddered at your words, his tongue moving faster, more desperate. You licked and sucked, your movements unhurried, savoring the way he twitched in your mouth, still sensitive from his release but unable to resist you. Your hips rolled back against his face, guiding his tongue where you wanted. “Your tongue’s so good, Heeseung,” you purred, voice dripping with praise as you ground against his mouth, his lips and tongue working tirelessly to clean you, to please you. “So fucking perfect, licking me up like you were born for it.” You dragged your tongue up his cock before digging your thumb into his slit, pressing just enough to make his thighs shake violently beneath you. A muffled sob escaped him, his hips jerking up, but you held him down.

Now the real fun began. Every time you felt his cock twitch, his body tensing as he neared the edge, you pulled back, denying him release. Your lips would leave him, your hand slowing to a teasing graze, edging him mercilessly as his muffled whimpers turned into frustrated moans against your pussy. You didn’t let him beg, didn’t let him speak—every time his lips parted to form words, you ground harder against his face, silencing him, letting his frustration build. His hands, still shakily spreading your ass, trembled with the effort, his body drained of physical energy but burning with an insatiable sexual need.

“Poor thing,” you teased, your voice a mix of mockery and praise as you licked another slow stripe up his cock, feeling it pulse under your tongue. His thighs quaked, his muffled sobs growing louder as you toyed with him, your thumb circling his slit, your lips grazing just enough to keep him on the edge without tipping over. Despite being so full, so drunk on the power you’d taken from him, you wanted more. You were greedy like that, insatiable, and Heeseung was too tempting to let go. 

You denied his orgasm a few more times, each near-release pulling desperate, muffled sobs from him as you slowed your movements, your lips and hands teasing just enough to keep him on the edge. His thighs shook violently, his cock twitching in your grasp, as he writhed beneath you, completely at your mercy. Finally, you decided he’d earned it, your tongue swirling around his tip. His body tensed, a broken moan muffled against your pussy as he came, just a few small spurts, his oversensitive cock giving all it had left. His entire body gave out, collapsing against the bed, trembling and spent, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.

You licked him clean savoring the taste of him as you dragged your tongue along his softening length, his body twitching with every touch. Then, with a wicked grin, you sat up fully on his face, grinding against his mouth a few times, his tongue still weakly lapping at you, driven by instinct despite his exhaustion. His hands fell limp at his sides, too weak to hold you, but you didn’t care. You wanted more, and he’d give it to you, no matter how spent he was.

You shifted slowly, your movements teasing, turning to face Heeseung fully as you straddled his chest, giving yourself an unobstructed view of his utterly wrecked face. His cheeks were flushed a deep red, sweat clinging to his skin, his lips swollen and glistening from your earlier attentions. You smirked, a wicked curl to your lips, as you slid up, settling yourself over his mouth, your dripping pussy pressing firmly against his lips and nose. The heat of your core enveloped him, your slickness coating his skin, and his breath hitched, shallow and ragged, as he let out a weak, trembling moan.

His tongue moved instinctively, slow and tired strokes that lapped at you. He was exhausted, his body pushed beyond its limits, yet he couldn’t stop, his devotion to you overriding everything else. You ground down harder, your clit rubbing against the bridge of his nose, the sharp spike of pleasure pulling a loud, unrestrained moan from your lips. Heeseung groaned beneath you, the sound muffled and weak, his nose buried so deeply in your folds that your scent was all he could perceive.

Your hands found his hair, fingers tangling in the damp, messy strands as you gripped tightly, holding him exactly where you wanted him. “You’re still going for me,” you purred, your voice dripping with a warmth that belied the power you wielded. “So special, Heeseung, so perfect.” You rolled your hips, grinding harder, your clit dragging against his nose with a delicious friction that made you gasp. “Still trying so hard to make me feel good, even when you’re so tired, so spent. You’re mine, aren’t you? I’m going to keep you all to myself, you know that?” Your words were possessive, a vow that sank into him like a brand, and his eyes fluttered, a desperate moan vibrating against your core as he tried to nod beneath you.

“You’ll let me, won’t you?” you continued, your voice lowering to a teasing, almost hypnotic cadence as you rocked against his face, your slickness smearing across his lips and chin. “I’ll keep you so satisfied, so full of me, so consumed by me that you’ll never even think of looking at another girl again.” Another broken whimper escaped him, muffled against your pussy as he tried to nod again, his tongue still lapping weakly, desperately, as if he could never get enough of you. “You have to agree, Heeseung,” you said, your voice turning sharper, more insistent, as you tugged his hair. “You don’t have a choice anymore. You’ve been mine since the moment I set my eyes on you.” The words were a spell in themselves, weaving tighter the threads that bound him to you, sinking into his mind, his soul, until there was nothing left but you. His body shuddered violently as he tried to nod again, his lips and tongue still working, even as his breaths grew more labored, his body trembling with the effort to keep up.

Your body trembled with the aftershocks, your chest heaving as you gasped, the power surging through you stronger than ever, fed by his utter submission. You looked down at him, your eyes glowing with that otherworldly intensity. “Good boy,” you purred, voice breathy, your hand reaching up to wipe a tear from his cheek. “You did so well, Heeseung. Made me cum just like I wanted.”  Heeseung trembled and whined, his body shaking uncontrollably as you pushed him off you, his cock slipping from your pussy with a wet sound. He collapsed onto his back, utterly spent, completely ruined. He was a wreck, a beautiful, broken mess, and you knew no other woman would ever compare to you in his mind.

You huffed in content, sitting up as cum and slick rolled out of you in a steady stream, dripping onto the sheets. Your smirk was downright evil as you took in the sight of Heeseung laid out before you—his body twitching, his cock still hard but softening slightly, his face a mix of tears, sweat, and utter devotion. Perfect.

With a small tremble of your own, still buzzing from the power and pleasure, you crawled over to him, positioning yourself so his softening cock was in front of your mouth, your dripping pussy hovering right over his face. “Clean me up,” you said, voice firm but laced with a teasing edge, as you lowered yourself onto his face. Without hesitation, you took his cock into your mouth, sucking and licking lazily, treating it like a lollipop, savoring the taste of him mixed with your own release.

Heeseung whimpered, his tongue immediately finding your pussy, licking and sucking with a shaky fervor. His hands came up, trembling as they spread your ass, pulling you closer to his mouth as he lapped at you, cleaning up every drop of cum and slick with a devotion that made your power surge even more. His moans were muffled against you, his red eyes fluttering shut as he gave himself over to the task, his tongue working eagerly to please you.

You smiled, your lips curling around his cock, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. “Such a good boy,” you murmured, your voice muffled but dripping with praise as you ground back against his face. “Cleaning me up so well, Heeseung. So fucking perfect for me.” His body shuddered at your words, his tongue moving faster, more desperate.

You licked and sucked, your movements unhurried, savoring the way he twitched in your mouth, still sensitive from his release but unable to resist you. Your hips rolled back against his face, guiding his tongue where you wanted. “Your tongue’s so good, Heeseung,” you purred, voice dripping with praise as you ground against his mouth, his lips and tongue working tirelessly to clean you, to please you. “So fucking perfect, licking me up like you were born for it.” You dragged your tongue up his cock before digging your thumb into his slit, pressing just enough to make his thighs shake violently beneath you. A muffled sob escaped him, his hips jerking up, but you held him down.

Now the real fun began. Every time you felt his cock twitch, his body tensing as he neared the edge, you pulled back, denying him release. Your lips would leave him, your hand slowing to a teasing graze, edging him mercilessly as his muffled whimpers turned into frustrated moans against your pussy. You didn’t let him beg, didn’t let him speak—every time his lips parted to form words, you ground harder against his face, silencing him, letting his frustration build. His hands, still shakily spreading your ass, trembled with the effort, his body drained of physical energy but burning with an insatiable sexual need. “Poor thing,” you teased, your voice a mix of mockery and praise as you licked another slow stripe up his cock, feeling it pulse under your tongue.

His thighs quaked, his muffled sobs growing louder as you toyed with him, your thumb circling his slit, your lips grazing just enough to keep him on the edge without tipping over. Despite being so full, so drunk on the power you’d taken from him, you wanted more. You were greedy like that, insatiable, and Heeseung was too tempting to let go. 

You denied his orgasm a few more times, each near-release pulling desperate, muffled sobs from him as you slowed your movements, your lips and hands teasing just enough to keep him on the edge. His thighs shook violently, his cock twitching in your grasp, as he writhed beneath you, completely at your mercy. Finally, you decided he’d earned it, your tongue swirling around his tip. His body tensed, a broken moan muffled against your pussy as he came, just a few small spurts, his oversensitive cock giving all it had left. His entire body gave out, collapsing against the bed, trembling and spent, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.

You licked him clean savoring the taste of him as you dragged your tongue along his softening length, his body twitching with every touch. Then, with a wicked grin, you sat up fully on his face, grinding against his mouth a few times, his tongue still weakly lapping at you, driven by instinct despite his exhaustion. His hands fell limp at his sides, too weak to hold you, but you didn’t care. You wanted more, and he’d give it to you, no matter how spent he was.

You shifted slowly, your movements teasing, turning to face Heeseung fully as you straddled his chest, giving yourself an unobstructed view of his utterly wrecked face. His cheeks were flushed a deep red, sweat clinging to his skin, his lips swollen and glistening from your earlier attentions. You smirked, a wicked curl to your lips, as you slid up, settling yourself over his mouth, your dripping pussy pressing firmly against his lips and nose. The heat of your core enveloped him, your slickness coating his skin, and his breath hitched, shallow and ragged, as he let out a weak, trembling moan.

His tongue moved instinctively, slow and tired strokes that lapped at you. He was exhausted, his body pushed beyond its limits, yet he couldn’t stop, his devotion to you overriding everything else. You ground down harder, your clit rubbing against the bridge of his nose, the sharp spike of pleasure pulling a loud, unrestrained moan from your lips. Heeseung groaned beneath you, the sound muffled and weak, his nose buried so deeply in your folds that your scent was all he could perceive. Your hands found his hair, fingers tangling in the damp, messy strands as you gripped tightly, holding him exactly where you wanted him.

“You’re still going for me,” you purred, your voice dripping with a warmth that belied the power you wielded. “So special, Heeseung, so perfect.” You rolled your hips, grinding harder, your clit dragging against his nose with a delicious friction that made you gasp. “Still trying so hard to make me feel good, even when you’re so tired, so spent. You’re mine, aren’t you? I’m going to keep you all to myself, you know that?” Your words were possessive, a vow that sank into him like a brand, and his eyes fluttered, a desperate moan vibrating against your core as he tried to nod beneath you.

“You’ll let me, won’t you?” you continued, your voice lowering to a teasing, almost hypnotic cadence as you rocked against his face, your slickness smearing across his lips and chin. “I’ll keep you so satisfied, so full of me, so consumed by me that you’ll never even think of looking at another girl again.” Another broken whimper escaped him, muffled against your pussy as he tried to nod again, his tongue still lapping weakly, desperately, as if he could never get enough of you.

“You have to agree, Heeseung,” you said, your voice turning sharper, more insistent, as you tugged his hair. “You don’t have a choice anymore. You’ve been mine since the moment I set my eyes on you.” The words were a spell in themselves, weaving tighter the threads that bound him to you, sinking into his mind, his soul, until there was nothing left but you. His body shuddered violently as he tried to nod again, his lips and tongue still working, even as his breaths grew more labored, his body trembling with the effort to keep up.

You leaned forward slightly, your hips rolling with a slow rhythm that dragged your clit across his nose, your folds against his lips. Each movement sent a fresh wave of pleasure through you, and you moaned again, louder this time, letting him hear how good he was making you feel. His tongue traced every crevice, his nose pressed so tightly against you that he could barely breathe, and yet he didn’t pull away, didn’t hesitate—because to him, you were everything, the only thing that mattered.

Your smile widened as you watched him struggle beneath you, his face a mess of slick and sweat, his body trembling with the effort to obey. “That’s it, Heeseung,” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with power, “keep going, just like that. You’re mine forever, and you’ll never forget it.” His muffled moan was all the answer you needed, his eyes fluttering shut as he surrendered completely, his world consumed by you and you alone.

The familiar pull in your core tightened, a delicious tension coiling deep in your lower abdomen, building with every grind against Heeseung’s face. Your body thrummed with anticipation, the pleasure swelling to a crescendo that made your breath catch in your throat. You threw your head back, your spine arching sharply as a loud, uninhibited whine tore from your lips, the sound echoing in the room. Your hips moved faster, more desperate, pressing your dripping pussy harder against his lips and nose, not giving him a moment to breathe as you chased the intoxicating edge with relentless intensity. The heat of his mouth, the faint graze of his teeth, the way his tongue lapped at you was all too much, pushing you closer and closer to the precipice.

“Fuck, Heeseung,” you gasped, your voice breaking, raw and trembling with need as you felt the climax looming, so close you could almost taste it. “I’m gonna cum,” you panted. The moment the words left your lips, Heeseung’s response was immediate, visceral. His hands, which had been trembling at his sides, shot up to grip your waist with a sudden, desperate strength, his fingers digging into your skin with a bruising intensity that sent a thrill through you as he surged forward, eating you out with a vigor that caught you off guard.

His tongue plunged deeper, lapping at your folds with a frantic, almost feral hunger, his lips closing around your clit with a suction that made your vision blur. He moaned into you, the sound muffled but vibrating through your core, amplifying the pleasure that already had you teetering on the edge. He was relentless, driven by your words, by the knowledge that you were about to break, and he poured every ounce of his remaining energy into pleasing you, his tongue and lips working in tandem to push you over the edge.

And then it hit. You shattered, a loud, keening whine ripping from your throat as you squirted in his mouth, your release flooding over him in a rush that left you trembling. Your body convulsed, hips grinding harder against his face, drowning him in your essence as you moaned. Heeseung’s moan was weak but desperate, his tongue still lapping greedily, taking every drop you gave him, his lips and chin slick with your release as he surrendered completely to your dominance. You rode out the aftershocks, your body trembling as you ground against his face one final time, savoring the way he struggled to keep up, his breaths ragged and uneven, his nose still buried in your core. 

You slid off Heeseung slowly, your thighs trembling with the lingering aftershocks of pleasure. A soft, teasing chuckle escaped your lips, the sound low and intimate, as you gazed down at him, drinking in the sight of his utterly wrecked form.

His chest heaved with labored, uneven breaths, his body sprawled across the bed, limp and pliant, completely surrendered to the weight of your control. Your gaze trailed lower, and a wicked smirk curled your lips as you took in the mess you’d made of him. His entire lower chin and much of his face were drenched, glistening with a mix of your juices and his drool. The slick sheen coated his skin, dripping in slow, lazy rivulets down his jaw, pooling at the hollow of his throat, and even matting strands of his dark hair against his scalp. His lips were parted, swollen from his efforts, and his tongue lolled out, slack and heavy, glistening with the remnants of your release. Small, choked sounds escaped him—soft, guttural whimpers and gasps, as if he were still trying to process the overwhelming sensation of you, his body too spent to do anything but lie there.

Leaning down, you settled beside Heeseung on the tangled sheets, your skin brushing against his that sent a shiver through his already trembling frame. You pulled him close, guiding his head to rest against the soft, warm curve of your chest, his cheek pressed against you. Your fingers found his messy, sweat-dampened hair, combing through the tangled strands with a tenderness that was both calculated and possessive, each stroke grounding him deeper into the cocoon of your warmth.

His body was limp, utterly spent, yet he clung to you weakly, his arms wrapping around your waist with a fragile desperation, as if he wanted to meld into you, to become part of you entirely. A soft, broken whine slipped from his lips, the sound so delicate and vulnerable that it made your heart twist with affection.

Your fingers tightened slightly in his hair, tugging just enough to draw a faint whimper from him. “So pathetic, so needy, clinging to me like you can’t exist without me.” His body shuddered against you, a weak, trembling response to your words, and you felt his fingers dig into your sides as if he were trying to hold onto you to keep himself from falling apart entirely. “You thought you were so clever, didn’t you?” you taunted, your voice low and venomous, each word sinking deeper into his mind, overwhelming him.

“Thought I was some innocent little thing you could fuck and leave, just like all those other girls you’ve used and tossed aside.” His breath hitched, a choked sound catching in his throat as he shook his head weakly, as if trying to protest. “You thought you were in control,” you taunted, your voice a sultry whisper, “but you’re just my little pet now, aren’t you? So eager, so broken, so ready to do anything I ask.”

Heeseung’s lips found your collarbone, weak and trembling as he sucked lightly, marking your skin with soft, desperate kisses. You let him, tilting your head to give him better access, a low hum of approval vibrating in your throat. “That’s it,” you purred, your fingers tightening in his hair, tugging just enough to make him gasp against your skin. “Mark me, Heeseung. Show me how much you need me.” His teeth grazed your collarbone, a faint nip that sent a shiver through you, and you chuckled. “You’ll never leave me,” you said, your voice turning colder, more possessive. “I’ll make sure of it. If you ever so much as look at another girl, I’ll kill her. Do you understand? You’re mine, and I don’t share.”

His body shuddered violently, a broken whimper escaping as he nodded against your skin, his lips still pressed to your collarbone, sucking weakly as if trying to prove his devotion. “Yes,” he rasped, his voice barely audible, hoarse and trembling. “Yours—only yours.” His kisses grew softer, his tongue tracing the faint marks he’d left, each touch a testament to his need to please you, to belong to you. “Sleep now,” you whispered, your voice softening as you pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead. “When you wake up, you’ll only worship me.” The words hung heavy in the air, a promise and a threat, and you felt his body shudder one last time before he gave in completely, his breathing slowing as exhaustion claimed him. His head rested heavily against your chest, his arms still clinging to you. 

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered one final time, “You’re never getting away from me, Heeseung. Never.” His body relaxed completely, his breaths deep and even.

The morning light slipped through the gauzy curtains, painting the room in a soft, golden haze that danced across the sheets. You stirred from the depths of sleep, a delicious languor pulling at your limbs as a gentle, rhythmic sensation coaxed you awake. It was Heeseung, his lips warm and insistent against the sensitive skin of your nipple, suckling with a slow, instinctive rhythm. He was still half-lost in the fog of sleep, his movements unhurried, as he pressed himself closer to you, his body fitting perfectly against the curve of yours.

A low hum of satisfaction vibrated in your throat. You didn’t move, didn’t stop him—instead, you let him continue, your gaze studying the delicate planes of his face. His features were softened in the morning light, his expression serene yet unmistakably devoted.

Your fingers twitched with the urge to touch him, but you held back, savoring the moment, letting it stretch as you watched him. His dark lashes fluttered faintly, his breath warm and uneven against your skin, and you could feel the weight of his surrender in the way he clung to you, even in sleep. The spell you’d woven over him held fast, its threads binding his mind and body to you in a way that sent a thrill through your core. You shifted slightly, just enough to feel the press of his body against yours, and the motion stirred him further from sleep.

His eyes opened slowly, heavy-lidded and still clouded with the faint, crimson glow of your enchantment—a mark of your dominance, a reminder of the power you held over him. Those eyes met yours, wide and vulnerable, yet burning with a devotion that made your heart race. Your grin spread, a wicked edge to it as you leaned down, closing the distance between you. Your lips crashed against his in a kiss that was messy, hungry, and unapologetically possessive. He melted into it, a desperate moan spilling from his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he pressed himself closer, chasing the heat of you.

His hands fumbled, grasping at your sides, your waist, anywhere he could anchor himself to you, as if afraid you might dissolve into the morning light. Your fingers found his hair, tangling in the soft, messy strands, and you tugged just hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from him, his lips parting further under yours. The sound sent a jolt of satisfaction through you, feeding the fire in your chest.

You pulled back from the kiss, a slow retreat, and watched with a thrill as Heeseung’s lips chased yours, his eyes half-lidded and desperate, a soft whimper escaping him. Your fingers swiftly found his mouth, pressing against his parted lips with a gentle but firm push, forcing him back against the pillows. “Tch, tch,” you tutted, your voice low and teasing, a smirk curling your lips as you shook your head. Your hand slid from his lips to his jaw, your fingers curling with a possessive grip as you guided his head downward with a slow, commanding pressure. “Lower,” you murmured, your voice low and thick with authority, each syllable dripping with expectation. “Eat.”

The single word was a quiet command, and Heeseung’s response was immediate, his body yielding to your will without a flicker of hesitation, crawling down your body, his hands grazed your skin, trembling with eagerness, as he settled between your thighs, his breath hot and unsteady against your sensitive flesh.

Heeseung’s fingers found your thighs, gently but urgently lifting them to drape over his shoulders, spreading you open for him as he positioned himself closer, his face hovering just above your throbbing core. Then, he leaned in and dragged one long, fat lick up the length of your pussy, his tongue broad and firm, tasting you with a hunger that sent a jolt of pleasure through your entire body. You were wet in an instant, your slickness coating his lips as he moaned softly, the sound vibrating against your core, low and needy, his eyes fluttering as if your taste was the only thing grounding him to the world.

He dove in fully, his lips and tongue working with a fervor that made your toes curl, licking and sucking with a desperate, almost primal need to please you. “You call that eating me out? Do it properly, Heeseung.” Your words were sharp, cutting, and he whimpered against you, the sound muffled but needy as he adjusted instantly. His tongue moved with more precision, lapping at your folds, sucking your clit gently before releasing it with a soft pop, only to dive back in, his hunger unrelenting. “That’s it,” you taunted, your voice low, “put that mouth to good use for once. You’re nothing if you can’t even eat my pussy right.”

He moaned louder, the vibration sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you, his tongue working harder, more eagerly, as if your words were fuel to his fire. His hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging into your skin as he spread you wider, his lips brushing against your inner thighs before he bit down softly, leaving faint marks that bloomed red against your skin. He sucked gently, marking you, his eyes flickering up to meet yours, wide and glassy. To him, you were the only thing in the world—his goddess, his purpose. Two of his fingers slid inside you, curling just right to hit that perfect spot, while his thumb found your clit, circling it with a teasing precision that made your hips buck involuntarily, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. “That’s better,” you mocked, your voice breathy but biting, “but you’ll have to do more than that to impress me, Heeseung. Show me how much you want it—show me you’re good for something.”

You leaned back against the plush pillows, your body sinking into the soft, rumpled sheets as waves of pleasure cascaded through you, each flick of Heeseung’s tongue igniting sparks that danced up your spine. “That’s it, Heeseung,” you purred, “you’re doing so well, properly enjoying your breakfast like the perfect little pet you are.” Your words were laced with a teasing edge, but they carried a genuine warmth that made his body tremble. “Such a good boy,” you cooed, each word sinking into his overwhelmed mind like a soothing balm. “So desperate to make me feel good, aren’t you? Look at you, using that mouth so perfectly.” He let out a muffled whimper, his lips never leaving your core as he mumbled against you. “Just wanna make you feel good,” he rasped, the words barely coherent, slurred with need as his tongue darted out to trace your folds, his breath hot and uneven. “Only you… wanna make you happy… s’my only goal.” 

“That’s right,” you murmured, your voice softening with praise as you reached down, your fingers threading through his messy hair, tugging gently to keep him close. “You’re so perfect like this, Heeseung, so eager, so devoted. All you want is to make me feel good, isn’t it? My sweet, desperate boy.” 

“Love this… love you… just wanna make you feel good forever,” Heeseung mumbled against your core, his voice trembling.

“Slower,” you suddenly ordered, your voice laced with an authority that made his body shudder. “Drag your tongue right there—yes, just like that.” He obeyed instantly, his tongue tracing exactly where you directed. “Now suck, harder,” you commanded, your tone sharp and expectant, and he complied without hesitation, his lips closing around your clit with a perfect, intense pressure that sent a jolt of pleasure through you. Your thighs trembled, the sensation overwhelming as he worked his tongue and lips in perfect sync, following your every instruction to the letter. 

The pleasure built, a tight coil in your core unraveling with every precise movement of his mouth, the intensity mounting until it was almost unbearable. With a final, shuddering gasp, you came hard, your release flooding his mouth in a rush that left you trembling. Your hips bucked against him, your fingers tightening in his hair as you rode out the waves of ecstasy. Heeseung didn’t falter, his tongue lapping at you through every pulse, cleaning you with slow, reverent strokes, his lips and fingers never pausing as he savored every drop.

Your body still thrummed with the aftershocks of your climax, a lingering buzz that made your skin tingle as you reached down, your hands making grabby motions toward Heeseung. Your fingers wiggled in the air, a silent command laced with affection, and he responded instantly, his body pliant and obedient as he crawled up the length of you. His skin brushed against yours, warm and trembling, as he settled over you, his weight a comforting presence. You pulled him into a messy, hungry kiss, your lips crashing against his.

He moaned into your mouth, a low sound that vibrated against your lips, his body melting into yours as he surrendered completely to the kiss. Your hand found his hair, fingers tangling in the strands, gripping tightly to guide his head, tilting it just right to deepen the kiss. Your other hand slid to his bicep, fingers curling around the taut muscle, feeling it flex beneath your touch as he pressed himself closer.

As the kiss deepened, sloppy and unrestrained, Heeseung’s hips began to move, a slow, instinctive humping against you, his cock hard and twitching as it pressed against your thigh. The motion was almost involuntary, driven by the overwhelming need to be closer, to feel you in every way possible. You smirked against his lips, a wicked thrill coursing through you at his eagerness, and you threw a leg over his hip, hooking it around him to guide his movements. The angle pressed his hips flush against yours, his cock grinding against your core, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through you both. 

When the sudden sharp, rapid knock on the door shattered the moment. Heeseung’s body tensed against yours, but you held him close, your fingers still curled in his hair. A voice called out—Jay, one of Heeseung’s friends, his tone impatient yet tinged with the groggy edge of someone recovering from last night’s chaos. “Yo, anyone in there? Time to clear out!”

The realization hit you softly—you and Heeseung were still in the guest room of Jay’s place, the morning after the party that had left the house littered with stragglers. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Your eyes flicked to the door as the handle jiggled, a faint smirk tugging at your lips when it didn’t budge. You let out a soft, mock-sad hum, your eyes glinting as you tilted Heeseung’s chin toward you. “Make him go away baby,” you commanded, your voice laced with authority, the spell’s hold tightening in the faint red glow of his eyes—a glow only you and your kind could see. Heeseung nodded, pliant and obedient, and slid off the bed. He didn’t bother covering himself, his marked-up body on full display as he crossed the room, his movements almost dreamlike under your influence.

He unlocked the door and cracked it open just enough to face Jay. “Fuck off man,” he said, his voice flat but firm, the words carrying a weight that brooked no argument. Jay’s eyes widened, his gaze darting from Heeseung’s disheveled, marked-up state to you, sprawled across the bed, posing with a lazy, confident smirk in a room that reeked. Red marks and hickeys littered Heeseung’s skin, his hair a mess, his body bare and unashamed. Jay’s jaw dropped, a stammered “Sorry!” spilling out before he turned and practically bolted down the hall, his footsteps fading quickly.

Heeseung closed the door, the lock clicking back into place with a soft snap, and turned to face you. His eyes, locked onto yours, awaiting your next command. You crooked two fingers at him and spread your legs wider, your body an open invitation. He stumbled forward, his movements eager as if the spell and his desire for you had left him dizzy. You watched him approach, your heart thrumming with the thrill of control, knowing that to Jay, Heeseung looked like wrecked after hitting. But to you, that faint red glow in his eyes was proof of something deeper—a bond only your kind could forge, a devotion that ran soul-deep, binding him to you in ways no one else could ever understand.

You shifted, moving with a predatory grace as you positioned yourself on your hands and knees, your arms braced against the bed, your back arching in a deep, seductive curve. Your hips tilted upward, offering yourself to him as you glanced over your shoulder, your eyes glinting with a wicked, greedy hunger. Your legs spread wider as you shook your hips, the movement sensual and teasing, designed to drive him wild. “Come and take me, Heeseung,” you purred, your voice dripping with need. “I need more of you. Give me everything.” The words were laced with a greed that matched the insatiable fire in your core, your body still full of him, still buzzing, yet craving more—craving the untapped sexual energy you could feel pulsing within him.

Heeseung’s breath hitched as his eyes drank in the sight of you—your arched back, your spread thighs, the way your hips swayed with a seductive rhythm that seemed to pull him in like a magnet. His cock twitched, hard and straining, leaking precum as he stumbled closer, his hands trembling with the need to touch you, to claim you.

He climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, his movements driven by a desperate urgency that left no room for hesitation. Without resistance, he aligned himself with you, and in one smooth motion, he slipped his cock fully inside you, filling you to the hilt.

The sensation caused a shared moan to spill from both of you as the stretch and fullness of his thick length sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your eyes rolled back, a low groan escaping your lips as you gripped the sheets tightly, your fingers clawing at the fabric. Heeseung didn’t pause, didn’t falter—his hips snapped back and forward, thrusting into you. “I love you,” he rasped, his voice hoarse and trembling, the words tumbling out in a desperate, rambling stream as he thrust deeper, his cock hitting all the right spots inside you. “Love you so much… only you… always you…” His words were a fevered litany, each one punctuated by the sharp snap of his hips, his breath ragged and uneven as he poured himself into you. 

You glanced over your shoulder, your voice teasing. “Show me, Heeseung,” you urged him on. “Show me how much you love me.” The words caused his thrusts to quicken, each one deeper, harder, driving into you with a fervor that made your toes curl. His lips found your shoulder, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your skin, hot and wet, trailing across your back as he worshipped you with every movement.  “Only you… I’m yours… forever,” he mumbled between kisses, his voice breaking with desperation as he speeded up, his thrusts relentless. You reveled in it, your grin widening as you felt the power you held over him, his love, his body, his soul—all yours, bound to you in a way that nothing could break.

a/n: ayy so hope you guys enjoyed this disaster!! pls reblog and comment to support me x

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[thatgooster]

WAP, WAP

I read a post about Bp Jay and went feral im afraid. Jay is such a cutie I just want to eat him up sometimes. Imagining him squirming and whining lowk makes my mouth water (I feel like such a pervert lol)

Genre: Non-idol, sub!Jay ; Fem, dom!Reader

Warning! Smut, porn with a bit of plot, Bp Jay, cunnilingus, use of toys, swearing, light violence (not between Jay & reader), fingering, light choking, pussy slapping, aftercare, whining

WC: 2860

"What the FUCK"

A loud shrill from the bathroom jolts you awake one early morning. You scramble up from your sheets as you check your phone, 8.30 AM. However, before you can even begin to panic, you realise, oh, its a Saturday...I don't have work today, silly me. However, it was when you begin to tuck yourself back into bed did you notice the lack of warmth beside you. Your eyebrows furrow, oh right, there was a scream from the bathroom just a second ago. Then it hit you, there was a scream...

"JAY BABY? ARE YOU OKAY?"

You wrestle your way out of the mess of blankets on the bed as you quickly pad over to the connecting toilet in your bedroom. You slam open the bathroom door preparing yourself to the sight of blood, a broken ankle, someone on the floor - any worse case scenario you could think of. But nothing prepared you for the sight you were about to see.

"What in the sorcery..."

There, standing in front of you, was Jay - pants and boxers pooled at his ankles standing in front of the mirror. His mouth was slacked open from shock, his eye blown wide. He was standing so still, you would've thought he was frozen in time from the first glance.

"Where, the fuck...is my DICK"

Jay hears you open the door and immediately looks to you. His eyes started to shimmer, the initial shockwave passing and his emotions coming out full-force.

"Omg, baby...how did this even happen. What are you even doing up so early on a Saturday."

Your arms wrap around his torso as your hand guides his face into your neck, knowing your scent and touch would always calm him down.

"I...I...just really needed to pee, and then I pulled my pants down and tried to grab my dick but... THERE WAS NO DICK TO GRAB..."

Jay sniffles into your neck as you pat and soothe his back.

"There, there baby. Just do your business and we'll go see a shaman and try to find out what happened okay?"

Jay stands upright and you cup his face, using your thumbs to wipe away the free-flowing tears. His nose was starting to redden up and his lips were set into pout. Oh my cute baby... You coo at him and place a quick peck onto his lips before pushing him to finish up whatever he was in the bathroom to do. At the same time, you grab your toothbrush and start to brush your teeth, mentally preparing yourself for the day you were about to have.

After about an hour of getting ready and even more soothing - because Jay was always so emotional when he was around you - you guys finally step out of the house and drove over to the nearest shaman you could find ; hint, it was about a 2 hour drive away, curse this country to be so big...

"So you're telling me, this was some kind of curse? Who would even curse him?"

Your voice raised a decibel as your head received a light smack from the shaman's paper fan. Jay sat beside you quietly, a word unsaid ever since this morning, a pout still very evidently stuck on his face.

"A curse or a manifestation really. I don't see any bad spirits lingering and neither do I see any bad fortunes. Your boy here is really pure."

Your heart skips a beat at that, of course he was, Jay was the cutest and purest boy you'd ever known, you'd doubt anyone would ever curse this cutie.

"I say don't stress too much about it, I don't see any bad juju here so this thing should go away on its own soon enough. In fact, I would say this could spice up your bed life."

The shaman wiggles her eyebrows at you and Jay's face goes pink, the blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears. You coo at his reaction as you place $70 onto the shaman's open palms. You thank her politely and stand up, guiding the two of you back to the car.

"I have something to confess. I might have...kind of...wished it maybe? UNINTENTIONALLY OF COURSE."

Jay spits out as soon as the car doors were closed. Your head turns slowly, wide eyes staring at him. His head remain looking down, fingers fiddling with the strings of his sweats.

"I just, wondered what it was like thats all. I didn't explicitly wish for it. I just thought what it would feel like ya know, having a pussy and all."

Your heart swoons at the shy confession as you lean over the console to grab his face, making him stare back at you with his eyes all wide and shy.

"Oh, baby, I'm not judging you okay? I mean as of right now there's nothing much we can do but wait it out. So don't worry too much about it yea..."

Jay nods his head and you smile, bringing your lips together for a nice, slow kiss.

"Let's head back home. I want to nap..."

Jay giggles as he buckles his seatbelt while you start the car, eager to drive home and cuddle up in bed, exhausted from the morning's activities.

A whole week passes with not much change. You guys headed to work as per any usual weekday, until Friday hit and your friends decided to go clubbing for your weekly gathering.

"Baby let's go, we are gonna be late..."

Jay yells at you from the door while you scramble out after finally perfecting your makeup. He compliments you, as usual, like the gentlemen he is before walking out to the car to drive over to the club in town.

You guys get into the club easily, thanks to your friend's VIP status (CEO things...) and the group is seated at a table in the VIP lounge. The girls and guys break off into chatters, talking about anything and everything while you guys sip on the drinks provided to you by the servers.

The night slowly passes, everyone getting loose and having fun. The girls decide to head down to the dance floor and groove to the DJ that the club had on tonight. However, with the too many drinks that you had, your need to pee arises and you peel yourself from the group to head to the bathroom.

"Hey, pretty. Would you like some company for tonight?"

As you were walking back to find your friends, two random men come up to corner you. Your face scrunches in disgust and politely decline their offer, trying to push your way out between their large bodies. Offended by your answer, the men remain relentless from letting you leave, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you to a more secluded corner of the club.

"Fuck hell let go of me you perverts..."

You kick them with your heals and land good punches to their weak spots, but ultimately, two big men were no match for your smaller figure.

"She said to fuck off you idiots"

A voice rings out and both men get punched straight into the face. Behind them stood Sunghoon and Jay, both taking hits to either men while Wonyoung rushes over to you to ask if you were okay. The fight blows up as the men retaliate, fists being thrown everywhere while you and Wonyoung quickly grab security for help.

"Okay boys, we'll take it from here"

The security pull both Jay and Sunghoon back. You rush over to them, thanking Sunghoon for his help and apologising for getting him injured while he waves you off.

"It's the gentlemen thing to do. Anyway, Jay's my buddy, I wasn't going to let him take them on his own."

You thank him again profusely while you turn to Jay.

"Let's go home hmmm..."

Jay nods quickly as you run back to the table to grab your purse. You wave goodbye to your friends and thank Sunghoon again before heading out to the car. You force Jay into the passenger seat since there was no way he would be driving in that state while your drinks from the night had worn off ages ago, driving back home quickly.

"My strong knight, let me take care of you okay..."

You sat Jay on the couch as soon as you got home, moving to quickly take a gel pack from the freezer so you could ice the bruise forming on his cheek. You kneel between his knees as you press the cold compress to his face, pressing kisses to all of the unmarked skin you could find. Jay frowns while looking at you, still shaken up by the whole ordeal.

"You're okay right?"

You smile at him, assuring him that the men at the club did nothing but grab you a bit too harshly. The pout on his face deepens and you decide to clamber into lap, your weight instantly calming him as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"You were such a good boy baby, they wouldn't be able to do anything to me with how quickly you showed up hmm, my cutest saviour"

You place the gel pack on the coffee table behind you and start to trail kisses down his throat, mind set on rewarding him tonight for his actions. Besides, with the busy week, you didn't have time to test out his new bodily development, and it was time to put it to good use.

Jay lets out a soft whine as you suck a deep mark into his collarbone, hands flying to remove his shirt to you could go lower.

"Let's go to the room"

You get off his lap and pull him up, his body starting to jellify with how aroused he was. You push him down onto the bed and pull off his pants and boxers in one go, Jay's hand flying to cover himself up.

"Nothing to be ashamed of baby, it's just me yea"

You pull his hands away and drag a finger through his untouched folds. Jay's body jolts up as your fingers brushes his clit, sensations he's never felt before making him whimper.

"Fuck, baby, you're so wet. So worked up just from me marking your neck hmm."

Jay nods his head as you push his thighs up, bringing his hands to help you hold himself open. You push down on his inner thighs and bring your face to his core, inhaling that sweet juicy scent.

"God baby, you smell delicious, time for a treat yea"

You stick your tongue out and lick a fat stripe up his folds, collecting all the juices that were slowly spilling out of him. Jay writhes and lets out a loud moan, thighs starting to shiver and close in on you. You tut at him and get up, moving to get the bar spreader to attach them to his ankles.

"Need to taste you baby, can't do that if you're gonna close on me."

Jay bites his lips as his chest heaves up and down, throwing his head back once he feels you breathing on his pussy again. You use your fingers to pull apart his folds, digging your tongue into him to coax the clear liquid out. Jay whines and whimpers, each sound getting louder than the last as you switch between digging your tongue into him and suckling on his clit.

"Gonna...hmmm...cum..."

You quicken your pace at his words, smacking his inner thigh occasionally to feel him clamp up on your tongue. His release comes quick, his whole body shaking as your name leaves his mouth. You give him a few more licks to collect his cum before sitting up, sending a tight smack right onto his pussy, watching him jolt up as his hands come to grip your arms. You smirk as you attach your mouth to his nipples, one of his most sensitive areas, suckling on them like a baby trying to get milk.

"No,no... too much!"

Jay tries to push you off but you retaliate by squeezing a finger into him, pumping it in and out while your other hand roams his sculpted body. He squirms from the overstimulation, not quite calmed yet from his previous orgasm before you started playing with him again. Your mouth releases his nub, a second finger slowly squeezing its way inside him.

"Come on baby, look at me making you feel good."

You coax him into opening his eyes, watching them shine at you while you continue to push your fingers into him, trying to find that spot that would make him see stars.

"Fuck, right there hmph..."

Jay's eyes close involuntarily again with his head thrown back, baring his neck to you. Your free hand immediately comes up, wrapping up his throat and squeezing the sides gently, just enough to slow down the blood flow to his head. Soon, you feel his walls spasming around your fingers, signalling that he was about to cum again. You maintain your pace, making sure to hit the spot with every thrust as you feel his walls tighten, cumming again with his mouth wide open.

You remove your fingers, bringing them to his mouth and forcing him to taste himself. You send another tight slap to his pussy, causing him to moan around your fingers. You climb off of him to walk back to your cupboard, grabbing the dildo Jay loved to use on you. But tonight, you were gonna return the favour. You grab a clip on vibrator along with it and settle yourself between his legs again. Slowly, you take the dildo and push it into him without warning, his eyes flying open and hand moving down to grab yours.

"No. no, already came twice please please, no more..."

Jay whines out as he arches up, the dildo driving in deeper than your fingers could reach, stretching him out deliciously.

"You're a good boy baby, you can take it hmm..."

You rub his thighs in an attempt to soothe him, pushing it in until only the flared base of the dildo could be left seen. You then attach the vibrator to his clit, switching it on to the lowest setting and hearing Jay let out a loud whine again.

"No, no no..."

He chants out hands flying to grip the sheets. You move your body over his, hands using the dildo to fuck him slowly while your lips attach to his, shoving your tongue deep into his mouth. He moans into you, hands coming up to grip your arms instead as you slowly pick up momentum, hearing his pussy squelch around the silicon dick you had in him. Slowly, you pick up the pace again while your mouth attaches to his neck to mark him up more. It doesn't take long before Jay starts to writhe again, his third orgasm coming in hot and strong. His fingers dig into your skin, nails leaving marks, as he arches off the bed again, your name leaving his mouth like a scared prayer. Your hands slowly come down to a halt, the vibrator on his clit still going, sending him into overstimulation.

"Stop, stop please no more, no more..."

He cries out and you take mercy on him, removing the vibrator and pulling the dildo out of him. He whines softly again, eye closed, chest heaving. You move to get off of him and go to the washroom when he pulls you back.

"But...you haven't came yet..."

He whispers softly and you coo at him, moving to get rid of your underwear so that you could sit on his face and let him eat you out.

"Fuck, yea, such a good boy hmm..."

Your movements are careful as he eats you out with fervour, not wanting to irritate the bruise or the light cuts on his face. His tongue darts in and out, flattening against your clit every few licks to send a jolt through your body.

"That's right baby, keep it going, gonna cum soon"

You reach the edge quickly with how long you had been holding up, letting Jay lap everything up while his hands remain clasped onto your thighs. He continues to devour you through your high, making sure to drink up all that you give him before finally letting go.

"Such a good boy...lets clean up okay..."

Jay nods, while you walk to the bathroom to set up a bath before coming back to slowly guide him after freeing him from the bar-spreader. With his legs still jelly-like, he limps slowly to the bathtub and settles down in front of you, letting you pamper him like the sweet, sweet boy that he was.

You whisper praises and sweet nothings into his ear, letting him relax into you while you clean his body thoroughly. Once you were done, you guided him up and back into bed, settling in beside him and pulling his head to your chest. Both of you slowly fall asleep - him to the sound of your beating heart and you to the warmth radiating from his body and sweet smell of his freshly washed hair.

Thanks for reading! The support on my first post was INSANE! Thank you guys sm!! Hope you loved this one as well. Do leave comments on what you guys think! Im gonna start a permanent taglist so comment your username if you want to be tagged every time I post! Also, do leave requests in my mailbox if u have any!!! Hope yall have a good day ahead!!

[spideyriki]

as much as i absolutely love boypussy sunoo or jungwon but imagine one of the more conventionally (jungwon n sunoo are also manly !) manly/ masculine members with a boypussy, specifically jay :(

like meeting jay and he's all buffed out with defined pecs and all but during sex you've got him crying out all pretty, why? because you've been pressing a vibrator against his sensitive clit all night !!!

or imagine buying jay some pretty panties and a small miniskirt, only to bend him over the kitchen counter, pulling up his skirt and pushing the fabric aside and fingering him while he's cooking in the kitchen until he's creaming around your fingers.

or or like making jay sit on your face and he's all flushed from the request because he's noticeably larger and more muscular than you yet he feels so small when you ask him to sit his tight little pussy on your face and you eat him out till he's squirting.

OH and is it just me but does anyone else feel like jay would love getting degraded but like gently?

"baby's pussy couldn't help but make a mess all over me, hmm?"

"you have such a tight little cunt, huh? you need me to stretch it open for you, jay?"

i can totally imagine him getting wet at just the mere way you talk about his pussy.

[heyjayy-deactivated20251018]

╰┈➤ Midnight Awakening - jay

⚡︎ smut somnophilia rough sex.

The room was bathed in the soft, silvery glow of moonlight filtering through the half-open curtains. The air was warm, heavy with the quiet hum of the night. You lay sprawled across the bed, your body relaxed in the depths of sleep, your breathing slow and even. The oversized t-shirt you wore—Jay’s, stolen from his side of the closet—had ridden up slightly, exposing the curve of your hips and the delicate lace of your underwear. The sight was enough to make Jay’s breath catch in his throat as he stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the faint light from the hallway.

He’d come home late, the weight of a long day at the studio clinging to him like a second skin. His muscles ached, his mind buzzed with melodies and choreography, but the moment he saw you, all of that faded. You were his sanctuary, his escape, and tonight, the sight of you stirred something primal in him—a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

Jay moved quietly, his footsteps barely audible against the hardwood floor. He shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall carelessly to the ground, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. There was something intoxicating about you like this, so vulnerable yet so inviting, your body calling to him in a way that made his pulse quicken. He knew you’d talked about this before—whispered conversations in the dark about boundaries, desires, and the thrill of giving yourself to him even in your sleep. The memory of your soft, “I trust you, Jay,” echoed in his mind, fueling the fire that was already burning low in his gut.

He knelt beside the bed, his fingers brushing lightly against your exposed thigh. Your skin was warm, soft, and he couldn’t resist leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss to the spot just below your hipbone. You stirred faintly, a soft hum escaping your lips, but you didn’t wake. Jay’s lips curved into a small, almost predatory smile. He loved this—the way you trusted him, the way you let him take control in these quiet, stolen moments.

His kisses trailed higher, ghosting over the hem of your t-shirt as he pushed it up further, revealing the smooth expanse of your stomach. His hands followed, calloused fingertips tracing the contours of your body with a reverence that belied the roughness he craved. He could feel his restraint slipping, the need to claim you growing stronger with every second. He leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below your navel, and you shifted again, your legs parting slightly as if your body was instinctively responding to him.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured under his breath, his voice low and husky. He climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he settled between your legs. His hands were firm but careful as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down slowly, savoring the way your body looked in the dim light. You were still asleep, your chest rising and falling steadily, but the way your hips twitched at his touch told him you were aware of him on some level, even if your mind was lost in dreams.

Jay’s breath grew ragged as he tossed your underwear aside, his gaze fixed on the sight of you, bare and open for him. He leaned down, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering as he fought the urge to devour you right then and there. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, and he couldn’t help but groan softly at the warmth radiating from your skin.

He moved higher, his lips brushing against your core, teasing but not yet giving in to the full extent of his desire. You let out a soft whimper in your sleep, your fingers twitching against the sheets, and the sound sent a jolt of heat through him. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed you—needed to feel you, to lose himself in you.

Jay straightened, quickly shedding his shirt and jeans, his movements hurried but silent. His body was taut with anticipation, every muscle coiled with need as he positioned himself over you. He leaned down, his lips grazing your ear as he whispered, “I’m gonna take care of you, baby. Just like you wanted.”

With one hand, he guided himself to your entrance, his touch firm but careful, ensuring you were ready for him. You were already slick, your body responding to his earlier touches, and the realization made his head spin. He pushed into you slowly at first, biting back a groan as your warmth enveloped him. You stirred again, a soft moan escaping your lips, but your eyes remained closed, your body arching instinctively into his.

The sensation was overwhelming—tight, warm, and so perfectly you. Jay’s control snapped like a taut wire, and he thrust deeper, harder, his hands gripping your hips with a possessive edge. The bed creaked softly under the force of his movements, but he didn’t care. All he could focus on was the way you felt around him, the way your body seemed to pull him in, even in your sleep.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the rhythm. His hands roamed your body, one sliding under your t-shirt to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple until it hardened under his touch. Your moans grew louder, more frequent, though you still hovered on the edge of consciousness, your body responding to him in ways that made his chest tighten with something more than just lust.

He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a messy, hungry kiss, though you were too far gone to fully return it. Your lips parted under his, soft and pliant, and he groaned into your mouth as he thrust harder, the headboard tapping lightly against the wall. The sound of your soft whimpers, the way your body clenched around him—it was driving him wild.

“Jay…” Your voice was barely a whisper, slurred with sleep, but it sent a surge of heat through him. Your eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, hazy and unfocused, before drifting shut again. The sight of you, half-awake and completely at his mercy, pushed him closer to the edge.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “Just let me have you.”

His thrusts grew more erratic, the need to claim you overwhelming every other thought. His hands gripped your thighs, pulling them apart further as he drove into you, each movement rougher than the last. Your body jolted with each thrust, your moans growing louder, more desperate, even as you remained caught in that liminal space between sleep and waking.

The tension in his body coiled tighter, his breaths coming in short, ragged pants. He could feel you tightening around him, your body teetering on the edge of release, and it was enough to send him spiraling. With a low growl, he buried himself deep inside you, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. The intensity of it left him trembling, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath.

You stirred beneath him, your eyes fluttering open fully this time, a soft, dazed smile curving your lips. “Jay?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep and something else—something warm and sated.

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, his voice softer now, tender. “You okay?”

You nodded, your smile widening as you reached up to cup his cheek. “More than okay,” you murmured, your voice teasing despite the sleepiness still clinging to you. “You’re gonna have to do that again sometime.”

Jay laughed, the sound low and warm, as he pulled you close, tucking you against his chest. “Oh, don’t worry,” he said, his lips brushing against your forehead. “I plan to.”

[thatgooster]

Post-tour break

Kept seeing fancams of tired Riks and just couldn't get this out of my head! Riki coming back from tour finally on a break and you help him to relax!! Subby Riki forever! Lots of whining, like a lot...

Smut content ahead! MDNI !!! Sub! Ni-ki, Dom! F-Reader. Mentions of nipple-play, unprotected sex because this is fictional (unlike you...), p-in-v!, mouth on places that it shouldn't be before a shower, teasing, petnames, light swearing, crying, aftercare. Ni-ki referred to as Riki ~~

WC: 1338

After a month-long of non-stop tours and being out of the country, Riki was finally glad to be able to get back to the comfort of his own home, not the dorms which he had been living in for the past 3 years, but you. Just reminiscing the smell of the baby soap oil which you loved to put into your diffuser has him tearing up, overwhelmed by how much he missed your touch and how tired he was in general. Don't get him wrong, he loved his fans, the ones who allowed him to be on stage and show off his art, but he also needed his long-overdue break and most importantly, he needed you.

"God I missed you so much..."

Riki wastes no time diving on to the bed, effectively squashing you and leaving you with no space to breathe. You giggled as he digs his face into your neck, inhaling and rubbing his head onto you, his dried blonde hair tickling your face. Your hands instinctively reach around his back, soothing him while placing little kisses to wherever you could reach on his face.

"Hey baby, I missed you so much too. How was your trip?"

"It was great but I much rather bask in your presence right now before talking about anything else."

He sighs as he stops writhing on top of you, rolling to the side to finally allow some air back into your lungs. With his face still squashed into your neck, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in, moulding your bodies into one.

You smile as you glance down at him, bringing your hand up to his cheek and caressing it. Slowly, your hand moves down to his neck, rubbing your thumb along his adam's apple as you watch his face start to scrunch up. With his eyes still closed, he lets out a whine,

"Babyyyy, I'm tired, let me rest please."

You don't answer him as you roll yourself on top of him, sitting on his stomach with your legs caging his frame. You lean down to start peppering his face with kisses, slowly moving down to the length of his throat. Your mouth alternates between light pecks and small licks, tasting him and taking in his scent for the first time in a month. Overwhelmed by the atmosphere, Riki's hands clutch onto your thighs, blunt nails starting to dig into your skin.

You stop your actions and move back up, his eyes fluttering open and staring back into yours. His eyes shine, reflecting the tiredness he's tried so hard to hide from the fans, but now that he was finally in his safe haven, his suppressed emotions are starting to shine through. You lean in, your lips barely touching his. He arches up to finally slot your lips together but you pull away quickly, smirking as you tease him. A soft whine escapes Riki and you giggle, leaning back down just to pull away again while he lifts his head up in an attempt to get your mouth on his.

"Thought you were tired ki?"

You tease as he starts to pout, theres a reason the fans often refer to him as a baby duck.

"Just kiss me please..."

He whines out again, his voice going up an octave and eyes starting to shine with unshed tears. Your hands reach down to his shoulders to soothe him as you finally slot your lips with his, diving your tongue into his mouth with no hesitation. Riki lets out a puff of air into your mouth as you kiss, nails starting to dig into your skin. You break the kiss and get him to remove his shirt, allowing you to finally kiss down his naked skin, latching your mouth onto one of his nipples. Riki's back arches up as he succumbs to the sudden pleasure he gets, his breathing getting heavier as you switch to the other side.

Your tongue swirls around the bud as a low whine escapes him again, his hands moving to your head to pull you up as his nipples start to feel sore. You unlatch and lick down his abs, quickly grabbing his hands and putting them back to his side.

"Touch me and I stop, got it?"

He breaths out a small yes as his fingers dig into the sheets instead, your mouth moving lower and nearer towards his growing bulge. You get him to raise his hips and you pull off his pants and boxers in one go, his length springing up and completely hardening after feeling the cold air.

Riki lets out a loud whine as you lick a long stripe on the underside of his dick, eyes clenching tight from the intense pleasure he was receiving. You suckle lightly on the mushroom head before diving down, swallowing whatever you could as your hands come up to compensate for what you couldn't reach.

"Fuck, baby, just like that, please..."

Not even knowing what he was pleading for, tears start to leak out from his tight-shut eyes. A month away from your touch and your mouth was enough to make him go crazy. He had gotten too used to getting his pleasure from you that it took hours of rubbing and your voice talking him through it before he could finally cum while being away.

You pull away and remove all your clothes, sitting back up onto his stomach. Your hands clutch his face and thumbs wipe away the tears, making him open his eyes and look at you.

"Watch me baby"

You lean back and spread your legs, plunging two of your fingers into his mouth to wet them before shoving them up your core to stretch yourself out. Riki's eyes stay glued to the show you were giving him, watching your fingers slowly pump in and out as you add in a third one. Once you deemed yourself ready, you flatten your palms against his chest and raise your hips, slowly sinking down onto his length.

Both of you let out a loud sigh as you finally take him all the way. You look down and caress the bulge slowly forming on your tummy.

"Look baby, it's you..."

You giggle as his eyes zone in on the distended skin, hands coming up to clutch your waist. Usually you would scold him for blatantly disobeying your orders, but right now that was least of your concerns after being celibate for more than a month.

You start to grind your hips, slowly riding him as you try to get used to his size after so long. Your rhythm slowly gains and both of you are panting and moaning, Riki's fingers holding you so tight it would leave marks.

It didn't take long before Riki's whines got louder as your pussy tightens up while moving up and down his length, his dick outright hitting that spot in you that always made you see stars.

"Fuck baby, I'm so close, let's cum together hmm..."

Riki nods his head hard, pulling you down for a deep kiss. Not long after, your core tightens and your orgasm releases violently, causing your pussy to grip Riki so tight that he swears he blacked out for a moment. You continue to move slowly through it, milking Riki in the process as you feel him release his cum deep into your core.

You finally stop as both of you pant into each other's mouth, resting and basking in the other's presence after a month of longing and endless texts of "I miss you" or "I want to touch you so bad".

After a few minutes, you finally get off of him and grab a towel from the toilet. You damp it with warm water to clean yourself and walk back to Riki to do the same.

"God, Y/n, I love you so much"

You climb into bed and snuggled into his chest to whisper the same into his skin,

"I love you so much too Riks"

PHEW! That was long (I wrote this before word counting, idk how people make 30k long fics...). Thank you for making it to the end of my first post and contribution to the MUCH NEEDED Bottom Riki posts! Do comment and let me know your thoughts and how I can improve! I'm new to Tumblr as well so please let me know if theres anything I should've tagged but didnt etc. Hope you have a good week ahead!!

[jongst4r]

lab partner (p. sunghoon)

in which being paired with sunghoon leads to way more than just classwork.

pairing: mean!dom!sunghoon x sub!fem!reader || wc: 10.3k || cw: smut! public sex, degradation, teasing, humiliation, praise, fingering, oral (f. rec), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t.), dirty talk, use of petnames, swearing, marking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, making out, a little angst (and a liiiittle fluff if you squint), a tiny bit of sir!sunghoon, sunghoon is mean but not that mean, mentions of enhypen’s jay and jake, le sserafim’s yunjin and txt’s taehyun || warnings: +18 content, mdni!!! || a/n: when i first started writing this i thought of it as a short drabble but…….i got a bit carried away

you sigh when you walk into class.

yunjin’s seat is empty, her bag nowhere in sight. she had texted you thirty minutes ago: “not going to class, i feel awful 💀 good luck with bio, text me later! <3”

you had replied with a string of panicked emojis, but it was too late already. yunjin was your lab partner, the only reason you got through this class every week.

you walk towards your seat at the end of the class and set your notebook down quietly, half-hoping the teacher would just let you work alone. but then you hear your name.

“since miss huh and mr. sim are absent today, you’ll be paired with mr. park.” you freeze.

you glance sideways, in an attempt to avoid eye contact, but sunghoon is already looking at you.

of course he is.

he’s lounging back in his chair like he owns the place, one arm slung lazily over the backrest of jake’s empty seat, a lollipop in his mouth, smirking like he just won something. your stomach sinks.

you’re not friends. you’ve barely spoken outside of group assignments and hallway glances. but sunghoon is… insufferable: he’s always teasing you for no reason, calling you “quiet girl” or “shy thing” when he passes you, brushing too close when he doesn’t have to.

and worst of all? you’re weak to it.

he shifts to the empty desk beside yours with a loud noise, dropping into the seat like it’s a sofa. the moment he settles, he turns to you with that same slow, lazy smirk that is always adorning his face.

“hi, princess,” he says, voice low and mocking.

you turn your head, immediately pulling your textbook closer. “hi.”

“aww,” he hums sweetly. “don’t be shy! we’re partners now.” he leans in just enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath near your cheek. “guess you’re stuck with me today, huh?”

as the teacher starts explaining the lesson you’ll work on today, you try to focus on your notes — really, you do, but it’s impossible when you feel his eyes on you. watching, enjoying every second of your suffering.

“you always sit so straight,” he murmurs after some time. “so… proper. bet you’ve never even skipped a class.”

you don’t respond.

he grins. “i like good girls.”

your breath catches and you grip your pen tighter, silently praying that your cheeks don’t start burning. but then you feel it, his knee nudging against yours under the desk, casual and deliberate. you gulp.

and he notices.

“are you nervous, baby?” he whispers, voice almost too soft to hear. “or is that just how you always behave when i’m near you?”

your cheeks burn instantly.

“s-stop talking,” you mumble, flipping the page in your book too hard.

he chuckles, low and amused. “god, you’re cute.”

you try to focus on the lecture, eyes fixed on the whiteboard, but it’s no use. every time you glance at sunghoon he’s watching you with that amused smirk, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

his knee presses lightly against yours again and your breath catches, heart pounding in your chest. you clamp your hands over your notebook, pretending to write, but you haven’t written a single word. how could you when sunghoon is right beside you, legs spread out, one hand hidden under the desk and dangerously inching closer to you?

at first, it’s subtle. the light brush of his fingers against your knee like it could’ve been an accident. like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. but you don’t, you can’t. it’s like your body’s frozen.

his fingers linger there, just barely grazing your skin. then, a little bolder this time, he drags the tips up and down slowly, just once, making it clear that this is intentional. he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows what it’s doing to you.

your spine stiffens, thighs tensing slightly. the air between you grows thick, tense, filled with unspoken things. you still don’t look at him. you can’t. if you do, you’ll fall apart right there at your desk. instead, you stare blankly at the whiteboard, at the scrawled words you’re supposed to be copying, but they blur and shift out of focus with every inch his hand moves.

then, just when you think you might explode from the anticipation, he leans in, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath near your cheek, even smell the faint trace of cologne on his shirt.

"keep your eyes on the board," he mutters under his breath, voice low enough only you can hear. “act like you’re paying attention, got it?”

your thighs twitch as he caresses your skin, higher this time. and you try to focus, really, you do, but as his fingers go even higher and graze your inner thigh it’s impossible.

"what, cat got your tongue?" he smirks, watching you squirm. “you’re so quiet all the time, but look at you now. sitting here like a good little toy while i do whatever i want.”

your cheeks burn. you bite down hard on your lip to stay silent, but he notices — of course he does.

“you like this, don’t you?” he says, leaning in, his mouth brushing your ear. “you pretend to be all shy and innocent, but i know you're soaking through your panties for me.”

your breath hitches, and that alone makes him chuckle.

“pathetic,” he whispers, cruel and amused. “you’d let me do anything to you as long as no one else finds out, huh? sitting here letting me touch you like this in class, acting like you’re not loving every second of it.”

his fingers press higher, centimeters away from your panties, and you flinch, grabbing the edge of your desk, knuckles white. he grins.

"aw, baby. scared someone’s gonna notice?" he teases. “maybe they already have. maybe they’re watching you fidget and wondering what’s got the shy girl squirming in her seat.”

you shake your head, breath trembling.

he tsks. “you can beg me to stop, yeah?”

you should be pushing him away. you know that, but your body reacts before your mind can catch up, just like it always does around him.

it’s not the first time he’s done something like this, he knows exactly how to get under your skin. like the time his hand lingered on your waist a second too long when he passed behind you in the library. or that morning in gym class when he caught you staring at the veins in his forearms and raised an eyebrow like he could see right through you.

he never says much. he doesn’t have to. a smirk, a look. the way he leans just a little too close. he’s been breaking down your defenses one touch at a time. you had told yourself that he was just messing with you, that he didn’t mean anything by it. but now his fingers are brushing higher, his breath hot against your cheek, and you're letting him. and the worst part? you want this.

“just what i thought,” he mutters. “such a filthy little thing when no one's looking.”

and then he smirks again.

“stay quiet for me, sweetheart,” he whispers, eyes fixed on your red cheeks. “or i’ll make you beg out loud.”

his fingers hover just above your soaked panties for a moment, the slowest tease. then, with deliberate cruelty, he slides two fingers past the thin fabric, pressing against your wetness. your breath hitches sharply and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to hold back the rush of sensation. sunghoon smirks, watching your reaction like a predator watching his prey. he presses those fingers gently at first, just brushing your clit over your soaked panties, teasing you mercilessly.

“you’re so damn wet for me,” he murmurs, voice dripping with satisfaction. “didn’t think the shy little thing would be this desperate.”

you can feel the air hitting your cunt as he pulls your panties aside. then, without warning, he pushes his fingers inside you, slow and teasing, just a little, curling with precision, searching for that perfect spot that makes your body tremble. your back arches off the seat before you can stop it, a strangled moan caught between your lips.

he waits for you to adjust, watching how you shiver beneath his touch, then presses deeper. two fingers sliding inside with a wet, slick sound muffled by the desk. he moves them in slow, steady strokes, curling and twisting just right to stretch and fill you, making you clench instinctively around him.

“you like that?” he whispers, voice low and husky. “that’s just my fingers, baby, and you’re clenching already. just imagine what else i could do to you if you let me.”

his other hand isn’t passive; it slips under the hem of your skirt, creeping up your thigh with feather-light touches that contrast the deep motion of his fingers inside you. his fingertips find your clit, circling it slowly, teasing in small movements that make your hips jerk involuntarily.

you try to stay still, to not give him the satisfaction, but your whole body betrays you, every flick and press on your clit is pushing you closer to the edge.

sunghoon’s voice drops even lower, thick with amusement. “you like that, don’t you? you like being stretched and touched like a filthy little toy. you’re so desperate you’d let me do this even here, in class, with so many people around us.”

his fingers flick harder over your clit now, and you whimper, trying to bury your face in your arms on the desk to hide the noise you can’t control. but it’s no use. he curls his fingers deeper, rubbing that perfect spot inside you in perfect rhythm with the relentless teasing on your clit. your legs shake, your breath becomes ragged.

“look at you clenching,” he murmurs. “so needy. are you gonna cum just from this? from being fingered like a cheap toy where anyone could see?”

you try to speak, to utter any word you can think of, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it, knowing your voice will be filled with desperate need. so you nod helplessly, your hands gripping the edge of the desk with so much strength it almost hurts.

“you really are my dumb little thing, huh?” sunghoon whispers, chuckling. “go ahead, baby. cum for me. be a good girl.”

and you do — hard.

your whole body shakes, walls pulsing around his fingers, slick dripping down onto his hand. he coos mockingly, fingers still working you through it, riding out your orgasm. your thighs tremble, overstimulated, and you bite down hard on your lip to keep any sounds from slipping out, jaw clenched. he finally pulls his fingers away, slowly, like he’s savoring every second of your dirty encounter. then brings them to his lips, sucking them clean with a smirk that makes your brain short-circuit.

"you taste so fucking sweet," he murmurs in your ear, chuckling as if he’s not just completely ruined you in the middle of class.

your heart is still racing, vision hazy, and you're too dazed to even think. you shift in your seat, thighs sticky, trying to fix your skirt with shaky fingers. the world feels like it’s moving in slow motion. you can’t focus, can’t breathe, can’t believe what just happened, and how easily he’s acting like it was nothing.

you’re still catching your breath when the bell rings. you don’t look at sunghoon. you don’t dare to. you just grab your bag and sprint out of the classroom. or at least, you try, because you don’t even make it two steps before you feel cold fingers curling tightly around your wrist.

sunghoon.

“where do you think you’re going, angel?” he mutters, voice sharp but laced with amusement. “you thought i was gonna let you get away with the little show you pulled in class?”

you glance around the empty hallway, but no one’s around. still, the risk of someone hearing him makes your breath hitch.

sunghoon wastes no time and tugs you down the corridor, pulling you into an empty class without asking. he shuts the door behind him with a quiet click.

“you know,” he murmurs, cornering you, “i’ve never seen someone try so hard to not moan. you were shaking, baby.”

his hand drags slowly down your side, fingers grazing the curve of your waist, and your body responds before your brain can catch up, a sharp shiver runs down your spine. the back of your knees nearly give out when your hips brush the edge of a desk behind you.

"so sensitive," he adds under his breath, eyes flicking down like he’s already imagining what he’ll do next. “what am i gonna do with you now, hm?”

you look at him, cheeks still flushed. your heart is pounding so hard in your chest you swear he can hear it. your back hits the edge of the desk, anchoring you, but your legs still feel shaky beneath you.

“you liked it? that cute little act of yours?” he chuckles, breath ghosting over your jaw.

you don’t answer, you can’t. your lips part, but no words come out, only the soft hitch of your breath as he moves closer.

sunghoon leans in, mouth against your ear. “you’re such a desperate little thing when I touch you. and you like it when i talk to you like this, don’t you?”

your thighs press together instinctively, breath catching in your throat. god, you wish you could say no, but your body betrays you. and he knows it.

his hand snakes under your skirt again, fingers gliding over the soaked patch he left behind earlier, pressing lightly, just enough to make you gasp.

"good girls don’t act like this," he whispers, voice dark and close against your neck. "but you? you sit there, all innocent, begging for it without even saying a word, looking at me with that pretty face."

your thighs clench around his hand, hips twitching forward before you can stop yourself. he notices and grins, slow and wicked.

"ohhh," he coos, dragging the word out like it tastes good on his tongue. "you like when i call you that? pretty? my pretty little mess."

heat floods your cheeks, your chest, your stomach, everywhere. your hands grip the edge of the desk behind you, trying to ground yourself as his fingers slowly tease your clothed entrance. he presses a cruelly gentle kiss under your jaw before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes.

“i bet you’d let me mark you up right now. wouldn’t you?”

you swallow hard, unable to meet his eyes.

he hums, satisfied. “go ahead then. ask me.”

you hesitate. your lips part, then close again. your heart is hammering so loudly you can barely think. and then…

“…please.”

it’s barely a whisper, but it’s there. soft and desperate.

sunghoon smirks. “god, i’m going to ruin you.”

he dips his head to your neck, and when his lips finally latch on, sucking just hard enough to leave a mark, the sharp pull of pressure makes you moan. your fingers clutch at his shirt without thinking.

"shh," he murmurs against your skin, dragging his lips over the spot he just marked, only to suck again, slow, deliberate, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you.

then he trails kisses along your jaw, infuriatingly slow. your head tips back, exposing more of your throat, and he takes his time, tasting every inch like he owns it. you cling to him, hips shifting, trying to chase some kind of friction, but he just chuckles at the way you bite your lip to keep the whimpers in.

by the time his hands move up to knead your breasts over your shirt, thumbs brushing over your nipples through the fabric, he knows.

you’re already gone. your head’s spinning, body humming with overstimulation, and then—

“on your knees,” sunghoon snaps, voice low and sharp.

your body reacts before your mind catches up. you drop immediately, knees pressing into the cold classroom floor. your heart pounds in your chest. you asked for this — wanted it. wanted him to treat you like you were nothing but a toy he could use.

sunghoon barely looks at you as he walks past, shrugging off his shirt and tossing it carelessly over a chair. he takes his seat on the edge of the desk, legs spread, towering above you.

"look at you," he scoffs, gaze dragging slowly down your body, lingering on the way your thighs press together. "always so desperate. bet you were soaking the second i called you 'pathetic' earlier, weren’t you?"

you nod, shame and arousal twisting your mind. your cheeks burn, but you can’t help the way your thighs twitch, seeking friction.

sunghoon chuckles, darkly. “of course you were. little freak.”

he beckons you with two fingers, and you crawl over slowly, like a good girl — because that’s what he wants you to be. when you reach him, he grabs your jaw, tilting your head up until you eyes meet his.

“say it,” he orders.

you blink, confused. “say what?”

his grip tightens slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you listen. “say you like when i treat you like this. say you like being my dumb little toy.”

your breath catches. heat floods your cheeks again, feeling ashamed, but not enough to drown the arousal that’s eating you alive. your lips part. “i… i like it.”

“louder.”

you swallow.

“i like it,” you repeat, voice shaking. “i like when you’re mean to me.”

sunghoon smirks and leans in just enough for his breath to graze your lips. “good girl.”

he pulls you up to straddle his thigh, the pressure of his muscle against your heat making your legs tremble. one hand slipping between your legs, cupping your heat through the fabric of your panties.

“already wet,” he mocks, laughing softly. “you’re pathetic. you know that?”

you nod, moaning softly as his fingers press harder. he moves your panties aside with ease and runs two fingers through your folds — slow and lazy, like he has all the time in the world.

“so needy,” he mutters, teasing your clit with the pad of his finger. “and for what? i haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

you whimper, trying to rock your hips against his thigh for some relief, but his other hand lands on your waist, holding you still.

“nuh-uh,” he scolds. “you don’t get to move unless i say so. you’re my toy, remember?”

you bite your lip, nodding quickly.

sunghoon hums, satisfied, then he finally slips a finger inside. he does it slowly, curling it just right. your back arches immediately, breath hitching.

“god, i fingered you twenty minutes ago and you’re still tight,” he groans. “and you’re clenching like you’ve never had anything inside you. pathetic.”

“sunghoon—” you moan, but he cuts you off with a glare.

“that’s sir to you right now.”

you shiver, voice barely above a whisper. “yes, sir…”

he adds another finger, stretching you out, fucking you slowly, deliberately, like he’s enjoying watching you fall apart inch by inch. your moans get louder, needier, and you cling to his shoulders, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, trying to hold yourself together.

he leans in, lips brushing your ear. “you gonna cum again just from my fingers, pretty?” he taunts. “gonna make a mess like the filthy little girl you are?”

your body trembles, your legs starting to shake. you’re right on the edge, and he knows it.

“c’mon, beg for it.”

“please,” you whisper, desperate. “please let me cum, sir. i need it—ple—”

you moan louder as sunghoon’s fingers sink deeper inside, slow and cruel, keeping you right on the edge. your hips keep twitching but he doesn’t let you move, just keeps you there, needy and whimpering in his lap.

“please,” you breathe, voice wrecked. “please, sir, i’ll be good—just—please fuck me.”

he tilts his head, smug as ever. “you sound so pretty when you beg,” he mutters, pulling his fingers out and watching your body tremble. “makes me want to ruin you even more.”

you’re nodding before he even says anything else, like you’ll agree to anything if it means he will finally fuck you.

sunghoon stands up, undoing his belt with slow, deliberate movements. “on the desk,” he says. “face down.”

you are quick to obey, bending over the cool surface.

he chuckles, pulling your skirt around your hips and shoving your panties down. “fuck…” he groans, watching your dripping folds. “you’re so fucking wet, angel.”

your knees buckle at the sound his voice. you feel the heat of him behind you. and then you feel it, the thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance. you whimper when he just rests there, not pushing in, just waiting.

“tell me who you belong to.”

“you,” you whisper.

“louder.”

“you. i’m yours, sir.”

that’s all it takes.

he thrusts into you in one hard, deep motion and you cry out, your hands scrambling for grip on the desk as he fills you completely.

“fuck,” sunghoon groans behind you, snapping his hips again, harder. “you feel so fucking good like this. tight little cunt just made for me.”

you moan helplessly, cheek pressed to the desk, eyes rolling back as he fucks into you with deep, punishing thrusts. he grabs your hips, dragging you back to meet him with every stroke, skin slapping loudly in the quiet room.

“god, listen to that,” he laughs, breathless. “so fucking wet. all that begging and whining, just to get split open like this.”

you can barely answer — the pleasure is too much, the stretch too good. all you can do is whimper and moan and let him use you like you wanted.

“you’re clenching,” he growls, voice right by your ear now. “you’re gonna cum for me, baby? gonna cum on my cock like a good fucking toy?”

“yes—yes, sir, please—”

his hand snakes around your waist, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles in perfect sync with his thrusts.

“c’mon, show me what a good girl you are.” he whispers.

your orgasm hits hard, it’s almost overwhelming. your whole body locks up, walls pulsing around him, crying out his name like a prayer.

“that’s it,” he groans, fucking you through it. “make a mess for me. that’s my girl.”

he keeps going, deeper and sloppier now, chasing his own release. and then you feel him twitch inside you, the low growl in his throat as he buries himself deep into you and cums hard, filling you completely.

for a moment, after he’s finished, there’s just heavy breathing and the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. he pulls out slowly, fingers trailing lazily over your heated skin as he leans down to leave a warm kiss along your spine.

“look at you,” he murmurs with a smirk, voice low and teasing. “all wrecked because of me.”

you bite your lip, face burning. you don’t dare move, not trusting your legs to hold you up yet. your heart is still racing, your body trembling slightly. sunghoon stays there for a bit longer, eyes looking up and down your back like he’s memorizing the view. then he straightens, tucking himself back into his pants and adjusting his belt with ease. you hear the familiar click of the buckle, but you’re still trying to collect yourself.

“don’t think this is a one-time thing, angel,” he says, voice full of amusement. “you’re mine now, and I’m just getting started.”

you finally glance over your shoulder at him, still bent over the desk, lips parted to say something, but the look he gives you steals every thought straight out of your head.

his smile is wicked. “aw, don’t look at me like that,” he coos, taking a step closer and gently fixing your skirt over your hips. “you’re the one who begged for it, remember?”

you let out a shaky breath, swallowing hard.

“god,” he laughs softly, running his thumb over your swollen bottom lip before leaning in close, voice brushing your ear. “you should see yourself right now. all flushed and fucked out, it's adorable.”

“sunghoon…” you murmur, unsure if it’s a warning, a plea, or just his name falling from your lips like muscle memory.

he hums in response, then tilts your chin up so your eyes meet. “you’ll be thinking about this all day, won’t you?”

you blink at him, still dazed, still aching. and he knows.

“you should, you look pretty when you’re thinking.”

before you can reply, he plants a surprisingly soft kiss on your cheek and turns toward the door. as he opens it, he glances over his shoulder, smirk still playing at his lips.

“try not to get too distracted in our next class, princess.”

then he’s gone, unbothered, like he didn’t just ruin you completely and leave your legs shaking.

and you’re left standing there, heart pounding, lips tingling, and one very real problem: how the hell are you supposed to walk out of this classroom like nothing happened?

you take a second to fix your skirt, smooth your hair, wipe at your cheeks with the sleeve of your shirt. you take a few shaky steps toward your backpack, grabbing your phone with a hand that’s still trembling slightly. you open your messages, ignoring the chaos reflected on the screen — messy hair, flushed cheeks, glassy eyes — and click on yunjin’s name. there’s a half-typed message from when you first walked into class. you delete it and start over.

you: do you think you’ll be sick tomorrow too?

you: just asking

you: no reason

you: like maybe don’t rush to get better. rest up. hydrate. sleep lots. drink tea. rest. a lot.

you stare at the screen, lips pressed tight, and then add:

you: seriously. please be sick again.

your thumb hovers over the send button.

you think of sunghoon’s voice in your ear, the press of his lips to your cheek, that stupid smirk as he walked out like he didn’t just rearrange your guts. you think about sitting next to him again, about his hand on your thigh under the desk.

you hit send before you can regret it.

and you immediately regret it.

then you press your face into your hands and let out a groan, muffled and entirely helpless.

you're in so much trouble.

you told yourself it was just a phase.

just hormones, just bad timing.

but it’s not just that.

you dream about sunghoon. think about him at night when you’re alone, hand between your thighs, biting your pillow to stay quiet while his voice echoes in your head.

you hate that he’s the one who makes you feel like this. hate that he’s cocky, careless, cruel.

it’s been three weeks since that day and you can’t stop thinking about him. not when he keeps on touching you, not when it feels good, too good, so good you can’t even think.

three weeks of sneaking into bathrooms during study period, of sitting in his lap in the back of the library as his cock is deep inside you, of biting your knuckles to stay quiet while his fingers ruin you during class.

three weeks and he still hasn’t kissed you. not really. only bitten lips and bruising touches and words that make your legs shake.

and even though you know it’s wrong, know you should pull away, your body is already choosing for you.

just like it always does when it comes to him.

yunjin came back the next week after the incident, and the teacher still kept you paired with her for “consistency,”. you didn't protest. you couldn’t.

but that wasn’t an impediment for sunghoon. he hasn’t stopped teasing you since that first time. if anything, he’s gotten even worse: touching you shamelessly on the hallway, whispering filth against your ear during group discussions, acting like it’s funny how easy you are now.

it always starts the same way now: a look across the classroom, a tiny twitch of his lip when you make eye contact, and then, after the bell, that slow, deliberate walk past your desk as he brushes his fingers along your arm like it’s an accident. but in reality it’s a silent demand: come.

today is no different.

now you’re alone again — he told you to stay after class, so you did. you always do.

the door clicks shut behind him. he doesn’t say anything at first, just leans against it, looking you over like he’s bored.

“you wore that skirt on purpose,” he says, voice low. “didn’t you?”

you shift in your seat. “no.”

he laughs, dry and mocking. “you’re such a bad liar.”

your cheeks burn. your legs press together under the desk.

he walks toward you slowly. one hand rests on the back of your chair, the other ghosts over your thigh.

“you know i’ve had to sit through two full periods with my cock hard because of you?” his fingers grip your jaw, tilting your face toward his. “i bet your panties are already soaked,” he murmurs. “you’ve probably been aching all day, waiting for me to do something. am i wrong?”

you swallow hard, he grins.

he leans closer, breath brushing your cheek as his hand slides higher up your thigh, warm through the fabric of your skirt. “what’s the point of pretending?” he murmurs. “we both know what you came here for.”

your breath hitches. you want to tell him it’s not true, that you just stayed because he asked, but your thighs are already tensing, betraying you. your heart is pounding in your ears, and he knows. he always knows.

his fingers push the hem of your skirt higher, dragging it up until it bunches around your hips. he grins when he sees your panties.

“lace?” he scoffs softly. “you really did dress for me.”

you shake your head weakly, but it’s useless. he slips a hand between your legs and presses his fingers against the damp cotton, rubbing slow circles over your clothed clit until your body jolts.

“fuck,” he whispers. “you’re soaked already. pathetic.”

your lips part in a breathless whine. he’s not even inside you yet and you’re already trembling. you should stop this. you should tell him you want more than this. but when his fingers hook under the waistband and slide your panties down, you lift your hips without thinking, letting him pull them off.

“spread,” he orders simply, and you do — knees falling open for him, desk chair creaking quietly under you.

sunghoon turns you around and sinks to his knees in front of you, eyes heavy-lidded, focused. you feel the cool air against your skin, the heat of his breath as he leans in.

“look at you,” he mutters. “needy little thing. you’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?”

you nod before you can stop yourself. shame blooms in your chest, but it’s drowned by the ache between your legs.

his fingers trail over your folds, light and teasing, avoiding where you need him most. you let out a soft, desperate whimper, hips twitching.

“aw,” he says mockingly. “you want it so bad you’re shaking.”

he finally drags a finger between your folds, slick coating his skin. then another. slow, deliberate. and then he pushes one finger in — just past the knuckle — watching your face twist as you try not to moan.

“tight,” he murmurs. “always so tight for me.”

he fucks the finger in deeper, curling it slightly, then adds a second. the stretch stings, but you take it, thighs trembling on either side of him. his thumb brushes over your clit at the same time, and your back arches.

“sunghoon—”

he tsks. “keep your voice down, baby. unless you want someone to walk in and see what a mess you are.”

your mouth clamps shut, eyes shut with the effort of holding it in. his fingers work faster now, hitting that sweet spot, rubbing circles over your clit in rhythm.

“look at you,” he breathes, almost to himself. “clenching around me like a whore. you gonna cum just like this? from my fingers again?”

you nod frantically, tears spilling as your thighs twitch and your stomach tightens.

he grins, cruel and beautiful. “do it, then. cum for me. be my filthy little thing.”

you do — choking on the whimper you can’t hold back, body locking up around his fingers as your orgasm crashes through you. you barely hear the wet sounds echoing in the empty room, barely feel the drool on your chin or the tears on your cheeks.

he keeps moving, even as you twitch and gasp, overstimulated. he only slows when you collapse forward, clutching his shoulder weakly.

his voice is low against your ear. “god, you’re so easy now.”

you’re still trembling when his fingers finally slip out of you, coated and glistening. your panties lie discarded on the floor. your fingers weakly gripping the fabric of his shirt as if it’ll keep you grounded, as if you’re not seconds away from falling apart again at the mere sound of his voice.

sunghoon doesn’t give you time to recover. he stands slowly, wiping his fingers on your inner thigh like you’re just a napkin for his mess, not a girl barely holding herself together.

“you always do this,” he mutters, brushing your hair behind your ear with mock gentleness. “act so shy around everyone else, all quiet and sweet… and then the second we’re alone, you’re dripping for me.”

your eyes flutter shut at the sound of his voice. he knows exactly what he’s doing. he knows the way his words make you ache, how every cruel nickname, every degrading comment, digs deeper than just lust. you don’t want to enjoy it, you don’t want to need him, but the proof is between your legs, soaking the chair beneath you.

“you don’t even try to pretend anymore,” he goes on, voice dropping lower. “you just sit there and take it like a good little toy.”

your stomach twists at that, shame and arousal knotted together. you should say something, anything, but all that slips past your lips is a broken, quiet, “sunghoon…”

his hand grabs your chin, fingers digging in just enough to make your breath catch. he tilts your face up until your eyes meet his. his expression is unreadable.

“what?” he asks.

you blink at him, dazed. “i… i can’t—”

he cuts you off with a slow shake of his head, and suddenly he’s moving again, dragging your chair back just enough to make more room. you realize what he’s doing.

his belt clicks open with a soft sound. your breath catches in your throat. you swallow hard. your legs are still spread, panties still off. and he’s staring at you like he already owns you, like he knows he can do anything and you won’t stop him.

because you won’t.

he approaches you as he strokes himself lazily, his other hand curling around the back of your neck, face inches away from you. he doesn’t kiss you. he never kisses you. but his breath is warm against your lips, and for a second, it feels almost intimate.

“you gonna let me fuck you right here, angel?” he whispers. “right on this little classroom, where anyone could walk in and see you like this?”

your body betrays you again. your hips twitch, a soft noise slipping out of your throat.

he grins.

“thought so.” he mocks, reaching for your hips to carry you and sit you on the desk. you watch him kick his lips as he spreads your legs, slowly, teasingly.

he pushes himself forward slowly, the tip of his hardened dick teasing your wet folds, making your breath hitch. your hands grip the edges of the desk like you’re trying to hold yourself together, but all you can think about is how close his face is — how those thick, dark eyebrows furrow in concentration, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his eyes flicker down to your chest before locking back with yours.

sunghoon doesn’t notice the way you look at him. or maybe he does, but chooses to ignore it. his gaze never softens, never lingers on your mouth.

he’s never kissed you. never once. it’s an unspoken rule. but you want it. you want to press your lips to his, to taste him, to make this whole mess feel real. you want to catch him off guard, to break the rules between you both even just once.

but you don’t say a thing. you just watch him, eyes tracing every inch of his face, memorizing the way his breath stutters as he pushes deeper inside you. the slow stretch, the way his body fits against yours.

his hand tightens on your neck, pulling you forward just a little, and his voice cuts through your thoughts.

“look at me,” he orders, voice low and rough.

your eyes snap back to his, and you nod, barely able to breathe.

“good girl,” he says, starting to move again, slow and relentless.

and still, no kiss.

he doesn’t slow down; if anything, his movements grow more deliberate, more possessive. every thrust presses deeper, setting fire to your nerves, pulling a gasp from your lips. you lock your hands behind his neck, fingers tangling in the soft strands of his hair at the nape, needing to hold him still even as he owns every inch of you.

“you’re so tight,” he murmurs, voice low, rasping with hunger. “always so fucking ready for me, no matter how many times i fuck you.”

the way he says it makes your skin flush with a mix of shame and pride. you can feel the muscles in his jaw clench, his breaths shallow, desperate. your eyes catch his, dark and intense, searching yours like he’s trying to memorize the exact moment you lose yourself beneath him.

the rhythm between you shifts, faster now, harder. it’s raw and urgent, like the world outside doesn’t exist. your body arches instinctively. his hands grip your hips, steadying you.

“you’re mine,” he growls low, almost possessively. “nobody else touches you like this. say it.”

your head drops forward, breath ragged, but you manage the words. “i’m yours.” there’s something in the way you say it that makes his grip on your hips tighten just a little.

his face lowers toward yours, eyes dark and intense, flickering with something you can’t quite name. your heart hammers louder, the desperate hope still lighting inside you — is he going to…?

he stays close, so close you can feel the heat radiating from his skin, the roughness of his breath mixing with yours. your eyes flicker to his mouth, lips slightly parted, so tempting, so close. you want to lean in, to close the distance, but your throat tightens and you stay still, waiting for him.

instead, his voice drops to a whisper, thick with raw need. “say it again. louder.”

your voice breaks as you repeat, “i’m yours.” this time more certain, more desperate. and when you do, you see something soften in his eyes, like maybe, just maybe, he’s finally letting you in.

then, without warning, his mouth brushes your cheek. and you want so badly to reach up and pull him closer, you want him to kiss you. god, you want it so badly it feels like your chest is on fire.

and without thinking, you lean in, closing the small space between your faces. your lips brush his, as if asking for something more than the roughness of his thrusts. you want him to kiss you, to break through that invisible wall he’s built so carefully.

but the moment your lips meet his, he pulls back sharply, eyes wide and mocking, a cruel smirk twisting his mouth. “what the hell?” he sneers, his voice dripping with disbelief and amusement. “are you serious right now? i thought you knew we were just fucking. you thought i was your boyfriend?” he mocks you.

he’s still inside you, his hands gripping your hips as if to remind you who’s in control, but his tone is cold, sharp, degrading. the way he looks at you, like you’re some naive fool for expecting anything more than this raw, physical mess.

your lips part in silent shock, the sting of his words almost worse than the sudden withdrawal of his warmth. your body trembles, caught between the want to pull him back and the shame that knots in your chest. he’s right, isn’t he? this is just sex. nothing more.

you don't say anything, not even when he stays inside you, still using your body like nothing just happened, like you didn’t try to kiss him, like you didn’t embarrass yourself in the most humiliating way possible.

you let him finish.

you keep your eyes shut and your jaw tight, nodding numbly through the last few degrading words he spits. and when it’s over, you dress quickly, quietly. you don’t look at him. you don’t let yourself cry until you’re already out of his sight.

and after that, you stop answering.

you ignore his messages. you switch seats in the library. you walk the other way when you see him coming down the hallway. you leave him on read. you don’t even let yourself look at him, no matter how much your chest tightens every time you hear his voice. you pretend he doesn’t exist.

and at first, he doesn’t seem to care. he’s always been cold, indifferent. you tell yourself it’s nothing. he’ll find someone else to bother. he probably already has. maybe it’s better this way.

but a week goes by, and you can feel the shift.

he’s off. the smug, lazy confidence he always carries is gone. not completely. of course, he’s still sunghoon, still handsome and untouchable and a little cruel, but he’s… tense. short-tempered. eyes flicking to you in class like he’s daring you to meet them. leaning back in his chair like he doesn’t care, but tapping his pen like it’s the only thing keeping him from snapping.

he doesn’t understand what happened, why you stopped letting him fuck you, why you’re not melting under his words like before. why you won't even look at him. he doesn’t ask, not directly. he’d never lower himself to that.

but you feel it every time he shifts behind you. every time you catch him staring at you. every time he mutters your name and you don’t turn around.

he’s going crazy, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

you, on the other hand, are just trying to feel like yourself again.

the shame still sits heavy in your chest, and some nights it creeps into your dreams, that moment where you leaned in, where he pulled away like you disgusted him. but it’s quieter now. it doesn’t hurt that much, it’s like a bruise already starting to fade.

so you keep ignoring him. and he keeps unraveling. and both of you pretend it doesn’t matter.

but it does.

badly.

it’s friday again. you hurriedly walk down the hallway, it’s your last class of the week and you can’t wait for it to be over. to not have sunghoon’s presence near you.

you slip into the classroom, eyes scanning for yunjin first — but she’s nowhere to be found. your breath stutters, and you look to jake’s usual seat.

empty.

you stomach twists. “not again…” you whisper.

you don’t even think. you cross the room fast, heart in your throat, voice low and almost shaking as you reach your teacher’s desk.

“sorry,” you say, breathless. “is there any way i could… maybe join another group instead?”

she looks at the room. “but mr. park is also—“

“i-i know he’s not paired either, but we’ve already worked together and sunghoon is—”

you catch the mistake the moment it slips from your mouth. you shouldn’t have said his name. you shouldn’t have looked up.

but it’s too late.

you feel his eyes on you, burning from across the room. when you glance, just briefly, you see him sitting with one arm slung lazily over the back of his chair, gaze fixed on you like he’s trying to figure out whether to laugh or rip the desk in half.

he heard you.

he heard everything.

and he’s pissed.

not just irritated, it’s not the usual smirk, not the cocky eye-roll, but jaw tight, knuckles clenched, tongue pressed hard against the inside of his cheek. like your rejection, your plea not to sit beside him, cracked something in him wide open.

but the teacher hums distractedly and waves her hand toward the front of the class. “sure, sure. go sit with jay and taehyun today.”

you thank her quietly and turn without looking back.

sunghoon doesn’t say a word, but you know he’s fuming.

the bell rings, sharp and sudden. your heart hammers in your chest as you gather your things, eager to escape before sunghoon can corner you.

you run out of the class. you slip past the rows, weaving through the crowd with quick steps. but just as you reach the exit door, a rough hand clamps down on your wrist. you don’t have to turn around to know it’s sunghoon, of course it’s him.

before you can pull away, he yanks you backwards and pushes you into the nearest empty classroom. the door slams shut behind you with a solid thud that echoes in the small space.

he closes the distance between you fast, cornering you against the door. both hands are pressed at the sides of your head, his chest heaving, eyes blazing with a mix of frustration and something you can’t quite name.

“why the hell are you ignoring me?” his voice is low, rough.

he’s mad. really mad. but he’s not yelling, not mocking you. it’s something else, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“you’re acting like i’m some fucking stranger,” he says, voice shaking just a little. “like none of this means anything. you don’t get to just disappear.”

you can see the tension in his fingers, the way his shoulders are tight, like he’s holding back everything he wants to say.

“you don’t answer my messages, you don’t even look at me.” he growls, eyes snapping back to you. “this silence is fucking killing me.”

the air between you thickens, heavy with everything left unsaid.

he takes a step back. “what the fuck did i do?” he spits, voice rough, shaking with frustration. “i don’t get it. i’m not your boyfriend, i don’t owe you shit. so why the hell are you making me feel like this? like i’m losing my fucking mind over you?”

his hands slam down on the desk, rattling the wood. his eyes burn into yours, dark.

“i’m mad, yeah. mad because i fucking want you, and you’re pretending i don’t exist. like you don’t want me at all.” his voice drops lower, rougher, rawer. “but goddamn, i can’t fucking stand it.”

he steps closer, chest nearly touching yours, breath hot and uneven. his fingers curl around your wrist, tight enough to leave marks but not enough to hurt. his grip is possessive, demanding, like he’s claiming you.

“do you even know what you’re doing to me?” his voice cracks just a little, like the anger is barely holding back something more dangerous. his eyes burn into yours, but there’s not a trace of the usual mocking, just pure, burning frustration.

he drags you closer, until there’s no space left between your bodies, his chest rising and falling against yours in a rhythm that matches the pounding of your own heart.

“you’re driving me fucking insane,” he growls, voice rough and ragged, “and i don’t understand why you’re doing this. ignoring me like i’m some stranger, like i don’t exist.” his breath fans over your skin. “i’m not used to feeling like this,” he admits, voice dropping to a rough whisper that’s almost too vulnerable for him. “mad, desperate, like i need you more than i need air.”

he tilts his head, searching your face like he’s trying to find an answer buried deep inside you, a reason for the cold silence, for the way you pull away without saying why.

“i’m not going to let you shut me out,” he says, voice hardening again, “not when everything you do it’s fucking killing me.”

his hands slide from your wrist to your waist, gripping you like he’s afraid you might disappear if he loosens his hold. “so stop pretending you don’t want this too. because i know you want me.”

his eyes darken. for a moment, the fierce edge of his anger softens, almost as if he was shutting the wall he’s built around himself.

“tell me,” he breathes, voice rough and low, “just say something. anything.”

without waiting for an answer, without giving you time to pull away, his face drops closer to yours, his breath warm against your skin. his lips hover just inches from yours. and then, he presses his mouth to yours. it’s not soft, just a fierce, desperate kiss that speaks of all the confusion and want tangled up inside him.

his hands tighten on your waist, holding you close as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away the second he lets go. the kiss is rough, urgent, like he’s trying to pour all his frustration and need into that one moment, needing to know if you’re there with him.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, breaths mingling, eyes searching yours for any sign of what you’re feeling.

“please, angel, please…” he whispers.

for a second, you stay frozen.

sunghoon is begging. begging for you. you finally look into his eyes, your breaths mingling. you stay there for some time, just looking at each other. you try to gather your thoughts, to decide whether if this is correct or not.

but it’s sunghoon, sunghoon who is desperate for you. and you’re so weak when it comes to him.

without thinking, your lips part, and you lean in, closing the last fraction of space between you.

your kiss is fierce, wild, everything you’ve been holding back crashing forward at once. your hands dig into his hair, pulling him closer as his lips move urgently against yours. the kiss full of anger, frustration, need.

he groans into your mouth, one hand slipping from your waist to cradle the back of your neck, his grip fierce but desperate, like he’s finally got what he’s been chasing. your bodies press together, heat rising between you as the world fades away

the second his tongue slips past your lips, everything inside you ignites. his hand tightens on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, crushing you against him. your fingers thread through his hair, tugging him deeper into the kiss, desperate for more, wanting to lose yourself. his breath hitches, low and ragged, as his hips press harder against yours, the unmistakable hardness on his pants being even more obvious.

his hands slide lower, exploring the curve of your back, tracing your hips with a rough, claiming touch. every movement is possessive, filled with that maddening mix of desperation and control, and you ache for it. every brush of his skin, every bruising grip making you tremble.

you break apart just enough to gasp, his name barely a whisper on your lips, and he responds by crushing you into him again.

“fuck,” he mutters, voice thick with need, “i’ve been dying to do this. to have you like this.”

his breath is hot against your jaw as his hands wander higher, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, palms pressing hard against your bare skin. the rough touch of his fingers sends shivers down your spine, he grips you tightly, fingers digging in possessively.

his mouth trails down your neck, biting and sucking with fierce hunger, leaving a trail of small hickeys. you arch into him, the ache between your legs growing unbearable as his hands explore the curves of your body.

your hands slide beneath his shirt, tracing the muscles of his back, desperate to feel every inch of him. he pulls away, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it to the floor. your fingers clutch at his hair, pulling him back up to meet your lips, in desperate, gasping kisses. his mouth is rough and demanding, tongue slipping inside, tasting you, claiming you with an urgent need that matches your own.

he grinds against you, his hard length pressing insistently between your thighs. you let out a moan, your body aching for more. his hands roam lower, teasing the sensitive skin just above your waistband.

“tell me you want me, please,” he growls against your lips, his voice low, “say it, or else i’m gonna lose my fucking mind.”

you gasp against his mouth, voice trembling but fierce, “i want you.” your hands tighten in his hair, pulling him closer as the heat between you grows. “i’ve wanted you from the start.”

his eyes darken with hunger, lips curling into a wicked smirk before he suddenly dips his head, leaving your mouth with a trail of kisses down your jaw, neck, until he reaches the sensitive skin just below your ear. his breath fans hot as he murmurs, “good girl.”

without warning, his mouth moves lower, teasing your collarbone, then glides down over your chest. his fingers are quick to unbutton your shirt, brushing your skin, exploring, while his tongue flicks against your pulse point, slow and deliberate, making you shiver. you arch into him, biting back a moan as his lips find the sensitive skin beneath your bra.

“fuck,” he growls, voice thick with need, “you’re so fucking pretty, angel.”

his mouth leaves a trail of kisses down your torso, and before you can catch your breath, his lips part to tease the bare skin at the waistband of your pants, making you moan. he chuckles below you, kissing your hip before sliding your pants and panties down in one swift motion. you hear him groan as he spreads your thighs, finding your dripping cunt.

he looks at you before moving, looking for a sign of discomfort in your face, a sign that you don’t want him. but when you moan as he licks his lips, he takes it as a confirmation. he wastes no time, his tongue slips inside your folds, licking slow circles that make your knees weaken. his hands grip your hips firmly, holding you steady while his mouth claims you.

you bite your lip, eyes closed, letting out soft, shaky moans that only urge him deeper. his tongue moves with a fierce determination, exploring every sensitive inch with a skillful precision that makes your body shudder. the warmth and wetness, the slow, deliberate flicks and strokes, it’s like he’s memorizing you, learning exactly how to drive you wild.

your hands thread into his hair, pulling him closer as your hips instinctively push down against his mouth, desperate for more. as his tongue flicks your clit your breath hitches, and you can’t hold back the ragged moans spilling out.

“f-fuck, sunghoon,” you gasp, voice thick with need, “don’t stop.”

he hums, three low sound vibrating against your skin before he quickens the pace, his tongue darting expertly, teasing, flicking, pressing just right to make your body tremble. every touch sends sparks through your veins, building a heat that threatens to consume you whole.

his hands tighten on your hips, grounding you even as your world spins. “you’re mine,” he murmurs against your skin, voice rough but soft all at once, “only mine.” you nod desperately as you moan even louder.

it takes him just a few more licks for you to cum all over his mouth, a loud cry leaving your lips.

you’re still gasping, skin flushed and slick with sweat, as sunghoon kisses your stomach, his mouth still tasting you. your thighs tremble slightly. it should be perfect — finally, he kissed you, finally, he’s touching you like he wants you, not just your body.

but something inside you is already unraveling again.

his voice is rough when he speaks, low and satisfied. “are you gonna ignore me again after this?”

you freeze. he’s still between your legs, still licking softly at the sensitive skin of your hip, but your whole body tenses at the question. you don’t answer. you can’t.

sunghoon sits up slowly, running a hand through his hair. his eyes trail lazily up your body like he’s memorizing the mess he made, but then he sees your face, the way your mouth is parted, your eyes somewhere else entirely — and his smile falters.

“…what?”

you blink, forcing yourself look at him. your shirt is open, your body exposed, but somehow you feel more vulnerable than naked.

you don’t know how to explain it. how to tell him that you want more than this. that the kiss was good — god, it was so good — but it wasn’t enough. because you’ve tasted the softness beneath his cruelty, and you want it again. you want all of him, not just his mouth or his hands or the way he ruins you against desks and walls.

you want the sunghoon who looked at you like you mattered. like you hurt him when you started evading him.

you wrap your arms around your chest, shielding yourself. you hesitate. the words sit heavy in your mouth. you want to ask, was it just sex again? will you kiss me after this? do you even care that i stopped talking to you, or are you just pissed because you lost your control over me? “i just…” your voice breaks before you can finish.

his brows furrow. “you just what?”

“i don’t want to be the only one who cares.”

the words hang between you like smoke, fragile and heavy.

sunghoon blinks, like he didn’t hear you right. “what the hell does that mean?”

you laugh, a bittersweet feeling on your chest, and shake your head. “of course you don’t get it.”

his jaw clenches. “no. say it.”

you look up at him, eyes burning. “you act like i’m just… a thing to you. a body. something to fuck whenever you feel like it. and then you lose your mind when i pull away, like i’m the one being unfair.”

he stares at you, face unreadable. “i never said you were a thing.”

“you didn’t have to,” you whisper. “you made it pretty clear.”

his silence is loud, too loud, and you hate how fast the tears rise. you blink them back, but one slips free anyway. you wipe it away before he can see.

he notices, his expression shifts.

he meets your eyes for half a second. “listen, i… i’m not good at this shit.”

your chest aches. “so what is this to you, then?”

he’s silent again. and that silence answers your question before he ever can.

you nod, pressing your lips together. “okay, great.”

“no, don’t do that,” he says sharply, stepping forward. “don’t shut down now.”

“why not?” your voice rises, unsteady. “you can’t say what you want. you won’t tell me what this is, what this means to you. and i’m just supposed to keep letting you use me like i don’t feel anything?”

he recoils slightly. like your words landed harder than he expected.

you shake your head, tears stinging now. “i liked you. i like you. even when you’re mean, even when you laugh at me, even when you’re cold. and i hate myself for it.”

“you think i don’t care about this? about you?” he asks, slowly, like the words are foreign in his mouth.

you exhale shakily. “i know you don’t. you only kissed me because you were mad. because you didn’t like that i was ignoring you. it wasn’t because you—”

“stop,” he says, harshly. “just… stop.”

he steps back, running a hand down his face like he’s trying to scrape the feelings off. then he walks to the side, dragging a hand along the edge of the desk, pacing like he’s trying not to explode.

“i don’t know how to do this,” he says finally, voice low. “i’ve never—fuck.” he looks at you. “you think i don’t care, but the second you stopped looking at me, it felt like i was going insane, it fucked with my head.”

your breath catches.

“i was angry because you weren’t there,” he goes on, jaw tight. “i was angry because i thought you were done with me, and i didn’t know why.”

you look at him. “so why didn’t you just say something?”

“because it’s easier to pretend i don’t care,” he says quietly. “it’s easier to pretend it’s just sex than to admit you’ve been in my head since the first time i looked into your eyes.”

your heart stutters.

he walks back toward you slowly, stopping just in front of you. his fingers brush your cheek, soft this time, unsure.

“i don’t know what the fuck this is,” he admits. “but i don’t want to lose it.”

you blink up at him, lip trembling. “sunghoon…”

he leans down, this time gentle, and presses his forehead to yours. his eyes close.

“i don’t know how to do this right. but i don’t want you to ignore me again. i don’t want to go back to not having you.”

your lip trembles.

he takes a deep breath. “i kissed you because i wanted to, but because i couldn’t not. because i was going crazy needing to feel something from you that wasn’t distance.”

you close your eyes too. your arms slowly lower, unfolding from around yourself. your fingers find his skin.

“i just want to stop feeling like i’m the only one falling.” you whisper.

a pause.

“you’re not.”

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

you stay there like that — foreheads pressed together, his hands finally soft against your waist, your bodies close.

and for the first time, it feels like maybe this isn’t just sex.

© jongst4r, 2025

[guliexe]

━━━RAGE QUIT 18+

Gamer!Lee Heeseung x Gamer!Female!Reader

.ᐟwarnings/tags: slow burn, gaming buddies, video game terms, texting, sexting, soft dom!heeseung, shy!reader, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, pet names (princess, baby), praising, dry humping, oral (f & m rec), cum eating, unprotected sex, p in v, confessing, reader is down bad for heeseung, fluff

♡ you started as friends who played games at night—now he’s the one making you moan into his pillow.

.ᐟwc: 15.9k (no proofread)

It’s been a year since Heeseung joined the friend group. Some random guy Jungwon brought into the server one night for a last-minute League match, and who never really left. Every night like clockwork, your group piles into Discord: Valorant, League of Legends, horror co-ops that get you all screaming in sync. Most nights end in swearing, laughing, or someone rage quitting, usually Heeseung, and sometimes everyone. He’s sharp-tongued, quick-witted, and stupidly good at every game he touches. A little cocky, kind of a menace, and unfortunately for you, exactly your type.

You’ve had a crush on him almost as long as you’ve known him. Actually no, you’ve been in love with him, not that he’d ever guess. Or maybe he would. He teases you like he knows you’ll blush, throws in little pet names and innuendos like he’s testing you for a reaction. But you always brush it off as just another part of the bit. You’re just the girl he likes to mess with during late-night ranked queues. It doesn’t mean anything. Even if your heart does this weird flutter thing whenever he says your name.

“Where’s my duo?” you ask the second you join voice chat, headset sliding over your ears. “You bitches better not have started without me.” A chorus of greetings erupts, Jay, Sunghoon, Jungwon, and two others you recognize from another Discord server. Everyone’s already in the Valorant lobby, bouncing around agents and bantering over voice chat. “Calm down,” Sunghoon laughs. “You’re only, like, twenty minutes late.” You correct him, “Fashionably.” Then his voice comes through. Lazier, deeper, more smug than usual. “Nice of you to show up, princess.” You roll your eyes even as your stomach flutters. “Sorry, didn’t realize I had to run my schedule by you.” you shoot back. Heeseung hums in your ear like he’s unbothered. “You do when you keep dodging games just to avoid being carried.” You scoff. “Carried? Please. You’re always the first to die.” Jay cuts in, laughing. “Here we go again.” It’s always like this, bickering that toes the line between hostile and flirtatious, drawing amused reactions from everyone else in the group. It’s part of the rhythm now. You give Heeseung shit, he throws it right back, and everyone else acts like it’s some kind of soap opera they’ve been watching for seasons. “Bet she top frags this round.” Jungwon says, grinning. “She won’t,” Heeseung says at the exact same time. Then adds, “If she does, it’s because I softened them up first.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, snorting a laugh. “Cope harder.” You lock in Clove. Heeseung picks Jett. Predictable. The match loads in, and everyone starts joking over vc while you check your loadout. Your team takes the first site, and somehow the round is over in seconds, three clean shots from you, one assist, and Heeseung’s kill coming in dead last. “Damn, she’s actually carrying.” Jay says with mock awe. “Say thank you.” you say sweetly. “Thank you, queen.” Then someone else, a guy you vaguely know named Kai, who’s only been playing with the group for a week or two, speaks up. “Carry me again like that and I’ll eat your pussy, mama.” You freeze for half a second, just long enough for your brain to register what he said, and then you giggle. Not because you’re actually into it, but because it’s so fucking unhinged. “Yeah?” you say, leaning into the joke. “Say less.” The whole call erupts in laughter. “Bro.” Jay wheezes.“You’re wild for that.” Sunghoon says.

“Don’t test me.” Kai says again, voice still flirty. And then Heeseung speaks. Calm. Too calm. “Jesus Christ, can you not be a pain in the ass for, like, one game?” The laughter stops for a second. You glance at the chat window instinctively, it’s like the air shifted. He didn’t sound like he was joking. Kai lets out an awkward laugh. “Relax, man. It’s a joke.” Heeseung hums, dry. “Then try making a funny one.” It goes quiet again, not dead silence, but that weird kind of pause where everyone’s pretending not to notice the tension. You hear someone’s keyboard clack in the background. In-game footsteps echo in your ears. “You good, Hee?” You speak up carefully. “I’m great,” he says, “Just bored of hearing you flirt with losers.” Your heart stutters. That one didn’t sound like a joke either. Even Jay seems caught off guard. “Yo, that sounded personal.” “It’s not,” Heeseung says immediately. Too quickly. “Let’s just win the round.”

And he does exactly that, goes full sweat mode for the rest of the match. Dashes into sites solo, gets two aces in a row, doesn’t speak unless it’s a callout. The rest of the group fills the silence with jokes and teasing, but you don’t miss the shift. Heeseung always plays aggressive, but tonight it feels pointed. Like he’s got something to prove. To you. Or to someone else, you’re not sure, but your stomach is buzzing.

The match ends with a win, somehow, Heeseung top frags, of course, and Kai logs off without saying goodbye. The group starts leaving one by one. “Alright, I’m out.” Sunghoon yawns. “GGs.” “Same.” Jay says. “I can’t feel my eyes.” “Goodnight, lovebirds.” Jungwon mutters under his breath before he leaves. You scoff. “Shut up.” Heeseung doesn’t say anything. Eventually, it’s just the two of you. Still in voice chat. The lobby music looping softly in the background. You think about leaving, but your hand hovers over the disconnect button and never quite clicks. Heeseung exhales. You hear the soft creak of his chair. Then, “How come you’re not leaving?” You blink at your screen. His voice is different now, low and quiet, not teasing. “I don’t know,” you say. “Didn’t want to so early.” He hums. “Guess that means I scared everyone off.” You smile faintly, chewing on your lip. “You kinda went off on that guy.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. “Yeah. I didn’t like what he said.” You tilt your head. “Because it was gross or…?” There’s a pause. “Because it was you.” he says.vYour breath catches. You wish you could see his face, but all you have is the green ring around his icon lighting up. “…Oh.” Another pause. It stretches long enough to border on awkward, until he cuts the silence with a sudden, dry little mutter, “God, don’t make me say something corny at 3AM. I’ll literally throw myself out the window.” You laugh, soft and surprised. “There it is,” he says, pleased. “I was waiting for that.” You raise a brow. “For what?” you ask. “You always laugh like that when you’re trying not to.” You protest, “i do not.” But your voice is too light, too amused to sound serious. “You do,” he says, and you can hear the grin behind his words. “It’s cute.” Your stomach flips. “Are you flirting with me, Heeseung?” you ask, trying to make it sound like a joke, but it comes out breathy, shy. He lets out a soft laugh. “I don’t know. Are you gonna flirt back this time or just ignore it like always?” You go quiet. Then, “You notice that?”

“Course I notice that,” he says. “I notice everything when it comes to you.” Your cheeks go warm. You look away from your screen, heart thudding stupidly. “…You’re not as smooth as you think,” you mumble. He yawns, loud, exaggerated. “Mmm. Still made you laugh. Still made you stay in call.” You roll your eyes, “You’re impossible.” and smile. “Yeah, but you like me.” You want to say something back. Something playful or clever. But instead, you just go quiet. He doesn’t push. After a beat, he says, softer this time, “You sound tired.” You lean back on your chair. “Mm. Kinda am,” you admit. “But comfy.” “Yeah?” he says. “Stay a little longer?” You nod, forgetting he can’t see you. “Okay.” There’s a long pause where neither of you talk, just the sound of keyboard clicking as he hovers around his screen, maybe checking stats, maybe just filling the silence. Then, quietly, “You know I wasn’t just teasing, right?” Your eyes flick to your monitor. “About what?”

“Earlier. The guy. The flirting.” His voice drops an octave, a little husky now. “I don’t like hearing other guys talk to you like that. Even if it’s a joke.” You don’t answer right away. You’re too busy staring at your screen like it’s going to tell you what to say. “I didn’t think you cared.” you admit. He laughs again, gentler. “I’ve been caring for a while, princess.” Your heart stumbles. You bite your lip. “…I kinda like when you call me that,” you whisper. He hums, satisfied. “I know.” You giggle, sleepy and flustered and way too warm all of a sudden. He lets out a soft sigh, then mutters, “If we were on cam, you’d be blushing, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“That a yes?”

“Shut up, Heeseung.”

He laughs, warm, lazy. “Sleepy girl.”

You giggle softly, cheeks already warm. “You’re so corny, Hee.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “You love it though.” You pause, just a second too long. “Mmm… kinda.” He chuckles, just this soft, fond sound that sinks right into your skin. “Cute.” Your heart skips. You don’t know what to say to that, so you just smile to yourself, suddenly way too aware of how quiet it is now, just you, him, and that little green ring lighting up every time he speaks. Neither of you says much after that. You just sit there in the silence, not awkward, not heavy, just full of something unspoken. Your eyes start to flutter closed. You think you hear him shift in his chair. Maybe yawn. You don’t log off. Neither does he.

It’s almost midnight by the time everyone’s in the lobby again. League this time, ranked. You’ve got your hoodie on, cup of something warm on your desk, legs curled up in your chair. Your screen lights up with everyone’s icons, voices overlapping in Discord. “Why are we doing this to ourselves.” Jay groans as he hovers over his champion. “Because,” you reply sweetly, “we have no self respect.” Then, “Speak for yourself,” Heeseung mutters. “I’m here to carry.” You roll your eyes, “You wish.” smiling already. “Oh my god,” Sunghoon groans. “You two start the exact same way every game.”

“Wait until she dies in lane,” Heeseung says. “Then she’ll blame me like usual.”

“Because you gank at level six like a coward.”

You hear him snort. “Don’t need to gank when you feed their mid laner for me.”

The game loads in. You settle into your rhythm fast, poking, last-hitting, barely listening to the chaos on comms. But every time Heeseung’s voice filters through your headset, you feel it, that lingering buzz from last night. The way he called you cute. The way you didn’t want to leave the call. You don’t know if it meant something. But you feel different now. Every time he says your name, it lands heavier than before. Fifteen minutes in, you’ve got your third kill, and Heeseung’s still climbing his way up in the jungle. You start pushing your lane harder, greedy. “Damn,” Kai says over comms. “She’s actually carrying again?”

“She does that,” Sunghoon says. “Every once in a while.”

Kai laughs. “Shit. If I play support next round, will you reward me, mama?”

You groan, already bracing yourself. “I mean damn,” he adds, “I’d let you leash me any day.”

The call explodes with groans. You groan too, out of habit, “You’re actually insane, dude.”

“You like it,” he says, clearly proud of himself.

You don’t reply, clicking back to lane. You’re not even thinking about it really. Until you hear…nothing. Heeseung’s gone silent. Not muted. Not disconnected. Just quiet. Then your phone buzzes. You glance at it out of instinct, brows furrowing.

Heeseung [12:16am]

tell your little fanboy to chill lol

You glance at the screen, smirking a little. You don’t reply , just keep farming, like your heart isn’t suddenly going crazy.

Buzz.

Heeseung [12:17am]

kinda annoying hearing him talk to u like that tbh

Buzz.

Heeseung [12:17am]

doesn’t even say it right

if anyone’s gonna call you mama it should be me

You choke on your own breath. Your mouse stutters for a second. One of your minions dies.

Buzz.

Heeseung [12:18am]

jk

Buzz.

Heeseung [12:18am]

unless u like it

Your skin is burning. You tuck your phone away without replying, biting back a smile. Across your headset, the match keeps going—Kai’s talking again, but his voice barely registers. You’re not listening to him anymore. You’re only hearing Heeseung. You don’t reply to his messages. Mostly because you don’t trust yourself to. Your fingers are still shaky on the keyboard as the match rolls on. Heeseung’s acting normal again in vc, throwing out short callouts, occasionally bickering with Sunghoon, playing it cool like he didn’t just imply he wants to call you mama.

Your phone buzzes again once, but you ignore it this time. Your lane’s pushing, and your team is moving toward Baron. You focus. You click fast. And when Kai dies again, whining about being “baited,” you’re already ready to kill. You slide in, ult ready, and drop three of them before they can react, smooth, clean, and so fast that Jay literally yells through his mic. “OH MY GOD—okay, she’s cracked tonight.”

“Bro, what was that?” Sunghoon laughs. “Are you sweating?”

You’re already smiling to yourself when you hear it. Low. Offhanded. Just one beat late.

“Good job, baby.”

Everything stops. No one else reacts. But you hear it. Loud and clear. Your brain scrambles. You don’t know if anyone else caught it, maybe he was leaning too close to his mic, maybe it just blended in with the chaos, but your stomach drops. In a good way. In a terrifying way. You go quiet for a few seconds, and then, “…What’d you just call me?” There’s a beat of silence. Then Heeseung’s voice, smooth as ever, “Hm? I said good job.”

You narrow your eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

“Might’ve added something,” he says casually. “You complaining?”

You hate that your face is hot. You hate it more that you smile.

“…You’re annoying,” you mumble, half-giggling.

“Still blushing though.” he replies, grinning into his mic.

Sunghoon: “What did I miss?”

Jay: “I knew something was going on with you two.”

You groan, tugging your hoodie over your mouth. “Play the damn game,” you mutter, but your voice is way too giddy to be taken seriously. And even though everyone goes back to screaming over objectives and team fights, your head’s somewhere else completely. Still stuck on that word. Baby.

It’s the next night. Everyone’s in voice chat again—same group, same vibe. But now you know what he said last time. He knows you heard it. And he hasn’t brought it up since. He’s acting normal again, but you’re not letting him off the hook that easily. The match is halfway through. You’ve just landed a perfect kill steal on Heeseung’s target, claiming the bounty right out from under him. He groans dramatically. “You seriously just took that?” You smirk, leaning into your mic. “Mhm. Had to show off for you, baby.” Silence. Total, absolute, silence.

Jay wheezes. “Wait.”

Sunghoon: “Did she just—?”

You don’t say anything else.

But you can feel Heeseung scrambling on the other side of his headset. He doesn’t speak for a few seconds, which, for him, is a lot. Then he clears his throat. “You trying to start something, princess?” You smile. “Just matching energy.” He lets out a low laugh, little breathless, a little impressed. “Dangerous game,” he mutters. “Careful or I might start taking you seriously.” You tilt your head, pretending to think. “Maybe I want you to.” He doesn’t respond right away. And when he does, his voice is quieter. “…Noted.”

You’re walking behind Heeseung in-game, flashlight beam jittering as you peek into dark hallways. You are playing Phasmaphobia, already regretting letting the boys talk you into this. “Is that—? No, okay, that’s just a shadow.” you mumble, heart racing. Heeseung laughs softly through the mic. “You alright back there?”

“No,” you whisper, sticking close. “Why do you sound so calm?”

“‘Cause I’m brave,” he says casually, like it’s obvious. “You’re the scaredy cat .”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up.”

“You are,” he continues, voice smooth. “Cute though. I like it.”

Your stomach flips. You keep your eyes on the screen, trying to act unfazed. “Not my fault you’re so bad at protecting me.” you murmur. He pauses for half a second.

Then, “Oh, that’s how we’re playing tonight?”

You smile, shy but satisfied. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Mm. You didn’t have to.”

Jay’s voice cuts in on voice chat, “Guys? Where the hell are you two?”

“Clearing the hallway,” Heeseung answers smoothly. “She’s being brave.”

You don’t say anything, but you know he hears your quiet giggle, even through your mic.

It’s almost 3AM when the final round ends. Everyone’s laughing, still on edge from that last chase. Jay’s cackling over some glitch, Sunghoon’s threatening to uninstall the game, and you’re still trying to slow your heartbeat. Then Heeseung’s voice cuts in, calm and lazy through the mic. “Alright, I’m out. I need to shower before I crash.” You blink at your screen, suddenly still. “Damn, it’s that serious?” Jay says, yawning. “Alright, night bro.”

“Night, losers,” Heeseung says with a smirk in his voice. “Later, princess.”

Your stomach flips, but before you can even think of a reply, his little green Discord ring goes gray. Gone. You try not to pout. The call slowly empties, one by one, goodnights echoing into silence until it’s just you. Alone in the lobby, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, still hoping he’d maybe rejoin. But he doesn’t. So you log off too. Toss your headphones aside, get up and do your skincare, brush your teeth, your hair, fluff your pillows. But you don’t feel sleepy yet. You’re scrolling aimlessly on your phone, tucked under your blanket, when it lights up suddenly.

Incoming call: Heeseung

Your breath catches. He’s calling you. At 3:27AM. You stare at it for half a second, then answer. “Hello?” you say, voice soft and a little surprised. “Hey.” His voice is warm, low, a little rough. You can tell he’s laying down too. “I thought you were going to sleep,” you murmur. “I was,” he says, quieter now. “Shower helped, but… I don’t know. Something felt off.” You wait, heartbeat picking up. “Didn’t get to talk to you.” Your lips curve into the softest smile.

“I was waiting for you to stay.”

“I know,” he says. “I wanted to.”

Then there’s a pause, intimate, quiet. “You comfy now?” he asks. “Mhm. Just got in bed.” Another pause. “Wish I could see you.”

You bite your lip. “You’re sweet tonight.” you whisper. He chuckles. “You make me sweet.”

Heeseung’s quiet for a few seconds. Then, casually, “You played good tonight.” You blink, surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Carried my ass a couple times.”

You let out a soft laugh. “I always do.” He chuckles too, low and warm. “You’re not gonna let me be nice, huh?”

“Mm, maybe not.”

There’s a pause, not awkward, just weighted.

“You ever think about playing just us?” he asks, voice a little softer. Your heart stutters. “Like duo by ourselves?” you say quickly, trying to play it cool. He hums. “Something like that.” You bite your lip, smiling into the darkness. “Maybe.” He doesn’t push it. Just lets the silence stretch again. “You sleepy?” he asks gently. You nod, even though he can’t see. “Yeah. You?”

“Mhm.” A beat. “Didn’t wanna sleep without hearing you again.” You go quiet, your heart going crazy. “…You’re sweet,” you whisper. He breathes a little laugh. “Don’t tell anyone.” You smile. “Secret’s safe with me.” There’s one last pause, so full of things neither of you say. Then finally, he says, “Sleep well, princess.”

“Goodnight, Hee.”

He hangs up. But you don’t sleep for a long time.

Discord is chaotic as always—half the team is yelling over each other mid-match, someone’s mic is echoing, and Sunghoon’s pretending to AFK just to piss people off. You’re trying to focus, but your mind’s a little too full of Heeseung. Ever since that late-night call, everything feels shifted. More intense. Every time he talks in call, your chest gets tight. And when his icon lights up just to say your name, it’s worse. “Okay, Saturday—Heeseung’s place?” Jake says. “Yeah, I’m in,” Sunghoon says. “Someone bring snacks.” Then Heeseung, smooth as ever, “You coming, princess?” You blink. Swallow the flutter in your chest. “Uh…yeah. Sure.” you say quickly, trying to sound casual. But barely a beat later, your screen lights up with a DM.

Heeseung [11:45 pm]

u don’t sound excited

Your lips twitch.

You [11:45 pm]

i am

Heeseung [11:46 pm]

lol?

that’s all i get?

You shake your head, smiling to yourself.

You [11:46 pm]

focus on the game hee

There’s a short pause.

Heeseung [11:47 pm]

not when you say my name like that

You bite your lip.

But before you can answer, Heeseung suddenly says in vc, “Yo—who just stole my red buff? I swear to god.” Everyone starts yelling again. The moment breaks, but not completely. It lingers underneath the noise, quiet and warm.

It’s almost 2:30 a.m. when your phone buzzes. You’re curled up in bed, scrolling aimlessly, already half-asleep. The soft glow of your screen lights up your dark room.

Heeseung [2:28 am]

u still up?

You blink at the message, a tiny smile tugging at your lips.

You [2:28 am]

barely

was abt to sleep

Heeseung [2:28 am]

wait

look at this

A photo comes through. It loads slowly, thanks to your shitty Wi-Fi, but when it does, your breath catches. Heeseung, shirtless. Pyjama pants slung low on his hips, just enough to tease, the band of his boxers peeking out. And right in the center of the frame, curled up perfectly in his lap, his small, fluffy kitty, fast asleep.

Heeseung [2:30 am]

isn’t she cute :)

You swallow, staring at the picture a little too long.

You [2:31 am]

so cute

must be comfy there too

The typing bubble appears almost immediately.

Heeseung [2:31 am]

yeah?

u jealous princess?

You grin at your screen, heart racing.

You [2:31 am]

hmm

maybe a lil :3

He doesn’t respond right away. You wonder if you went too far, until your phone vibrates again.

Heeseung [2:33 am]

could make room for u too

You stare at the words, pulse jumping.

You [2:33 am]

bold

Heeseung [2:34 am]

not bold if it’s true

u always look tired after carrying me anyway

You let out a soft laugh, trying to hide the way your cheeks are burning.

You [2:34 am]

i hate u

Heeseung [2:34 am]

no u don’t

you like me too much

You don’t reply right away. Instead, you bite your lip, heart pounding in the quiet dark.

You [2:35 am]

maybe :>

Heeseung [2:35 am]

see you saturday bby

sleep tight

You set your phone down on your chest and stare at the ceiling, grinning like an idiot. No shot you’re sleeping now.

You hadn’t seen Heeseung in two weeks, not in person, at least, but the late-night texts and flirty voice chats had kept him pressed into your mind like a fingerprint. Every time he called you “princess” every teasing message he sent before bed, made you blush behind your screen like some lovesick idiot. So yeah, now that you were about to see him again, you were nervous. Stupidly nervous. You stood in front of your mirror for way too long that afternoon, picking out something cute but not obvious, landing on a short, flowy dress that made you feel pretty. It felt casual enough not to raise eyebrows, but still, you hoped he’d notice. You wanted him to.

You met up with the others at the corner near Heeseung’s place. Everyone was buzzing with energy, talking about what games they’d play, what movies they’d watch, how long they were gonna stay. You tried to laugh along and act normal, but your heart beat louder with every step closer to his house. And then, you were there. One of the guys knocked on Heeseung’s door, you held your breath. A few seconds later, it swung open. He was standing there in a black hoodie and gray sweats, hair a little messy like he’d just run a hand through it before opening up. His eyes skimmed lazily over the group, and then landed on you. They didn’t move for a moment. Neither did yours. “Yo.” one of the others greeted him. Heeseung smirked. “You guys are late.” Then, to you, voice a little quieter, a little warmer, “You coming in, princess?” Your stomach flipped. “Uh, Yeah.” You tried to play it cool, stepping past him like your skin wasn’t already prickling from just hearing his voice up close.

You walk into the apartment, your eyes adjusting to the soft orange glow spilling across the living room. It was warm in there, literally and figuratively, the kind of cozy that made you want to curl into a blanket and never leave. Lamps instead of overhead lights, a couple of pillows tossed lazily across the couch, the faint scent of something like vanilla and laundry detergent lingering in the air. You quietly took a seat on the couch, smoothing your dress under your thighs. The fabric felt short when you sat, but you kept your expression neutral, pretending like you weren’t already hyper-aware of Heeseung moving around behind you. He dropped down into the armchair across from you, spreading his legs slightly, elbows on his knees. The hoodie he wore was unzipped, the edge of a plain white t-shirt barely clinging to his collarbones. He caught your eye for a second, just a second, and gave you a small smile. You looked away first.

The rest of the group slowly filtered into the living room, loud and casual like always. One of them kicked off their shoes and flopped dramatically onto the rug. “So,” someone said, clapping their hands together. “Are we being normal and playing something like Monopoly, or are we ruining friendships tonight with Uno?”

“Uno,” Heeseung said immediately, leaning back in his chair. “No mercy.”

“I’m voting for Mario Kart,” someone else chimed in from the floor. “Get on later and let me kick your ass, Lee.”

“Bro, last time you said that, I fucking stepped on you.”

Laughter erupted across the room. You giggled quietly, tucking your hands into your lap. It was easy being here. Loud, chaotic, but safe, like always. The way it always had been. Except…Except now Heeseung looked at you differently. They eventually settled on starting with a few board games, pushing aside the clutter on the coffee table and pulling out the boxes. Sunghoon opened the food delivery app and started taking orders—half the group wanted ramen, the other half wanted pizza. You stayed mostly quiet, watching it all unfold with a small smile, your knee gently bouncing on the couch. Every now and then, Heeseung’s eyes flicked toward you. When they did, he didn’t look away. He just watched, like he was content to see you sitting there, finally within reach again.

The living room had grown quieter since earlier, the post-game, post-food lull settling into everyone. Someone had queued up a movie, someone sprawled out across the couch and floor with blankets, while the others argued over what snacks were left and who was going to eat them. You slipped away quietly, rising from your seat and heading into the kitchen with an empty soda can in hand. The orange glow from under the cabinets bathed the room in a soft warmth, the hum of the fridge buzzing steadily behind you. You opened it, pretending to look for something, even though you weren’t really hungry. Your heart was beating too fast anyway. You closed the door and turned around, only to find Heeseung standing in the doorway. He wasn’t looking for snacks.

His hands were stuffed casually into the front pocket of his hoodie, his expression unreadable in the dim light. The laughter from the living room felt distant, muffled by the walls between you. He stepped inside slowly, letting the door swing shut behind him. “Been looking at you all night.” he said, voice low. You blinked, caught off guard. “What?” His eyes dropped, just for a second, to your dress—the way it clung softly to your waist before fluttering down your thighs. “That little dress,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You wore it for me, didn’t you?” You scoffed softly, trying to hide the way your stomach turned. “Shut up.” He tilted his head, amused. “What? I’m wrong?” You didn’t answer. He stepped closer. Not touching you yet, just close enough that you could smell the fabric softener clinging to his hoodie.

“You look so pretty, princess.” he said gently. Your breath hitched. The nickname sounded different when he said it here, alone, with the world gone quiet around you. No Discord call. No other people. Just him—tall and warm and real in front of you. “You’re gonna make me blush.” you whispered, glancing up at him through your lashes. He smiled. “That’s kind of the point.”

His hand rose slowly, like he didn’t want to startle you, and he touched your cheek. Fingers warm against your skin. You leaned into it without thinking, eyes fluttering shut. And then he kissed you. Soft and slow. Just enough pressure to make your knees feel a little unsteady. He kissed you like he’d wanted to for a while. And you kissed him back. Your hand came up to rest against the curve of his chest, clutching the fabric of his hoodie like you were afraid to let go. His thumb brushed your cheek. You sighed into him, and he pressed his forehead to yours for a second before pulling back slightly.

Before either of you could say anything, a voice echoed faintly from the other room, “I’ll go grab a beer, y’all want something?” You both froze, then stifled a laugh. Heeseung’s hand lingered on your face a moment longer before slipping away. “You should go,” he said quietly, eyes locked on yours. “Before someone comes in here and ruins it.” You smiled, breathless. “Yeah…” But neither of you moved.

You were the first to step back into the living room. No one looked up, the movie was too loud, and everyone else was too busy bickering over what just happened in the plot. You sank back into your spot on the couch, heartbeat still trying to even out, trying to act normal. Like Heeseung’s mouth hadn’t just been on yours. A few seconds later, he came in too, casually, like he’d just gone to the bathroom or gotten a drink or something. But instead of dropping into his old seat across the room, he sat beside you.

Right beside you. No one said anything. No one noticed. But you did. You were hyper-aware of every shift—the way the cushion dipped slightly under his weight, the warmth of his thigh brushing yours. You didn’t even dare look at him at first. You just stared ahead, pretending to focus on the screen. Then, his hand landed on your thigh. Your breath caught, but it wasn’t like that. It was soft, subtle. Just a palm resting over the fabric of your dress like it belonged there.

He didn’t move it. Didn’t squeeze, didn’t tease. He just…let it be there. And somehow, that was even worse. Eventually, the others started yelling at the TV again, someone shouting “YOU IDIOT WHY WOULD YOU GO INTO THE BASEMENT ALONE?” and the whole room dissolved into laughter. Heeseung’s hand slid away. But only to settle beside your thigh, knuckles just barely brushing the hem of your dress. You hesitated, heart thudding, before you let your pinky drop, feather-light, against his.

And he hooked it, like it was nothing. Like it was everything. You finally looked up at him, hust briefly. His gaze was already on you. He didn’t smile, not quite. But his expression softened, like he was memorizing this, keeping it tucked away somewhere quiet just for him. Your cheeks burned, you looked away, but you didn’t pull your hand back.

It was late when everyone finally started gathering their things. The movie had long since ended, and the energy in the room was quiet and warm, a buzz of satisfied laughter and sleepy goodbyes. Shoes were slipped on, jackets thrown over shoulders, as one by one, people trickled toward the front door. You were the last to follow. Dragging your steps a little, pretending you were still putting your phone in your bag, but really, you were just hoping he’d say something. Do something. And he did.

As you reached the door, Heeseung caught your wrist gently. Just for a second. Just enough to make you stop and glance back at him. He stepped closer, leaning down just slightly. And before you could even say anything, he pressed a kiss to your cheek. Warm. Quick. So casual, but not casual at all. His lips lingered for just a second before pulling back. “Goodnight, princess.” he murmured. Your chest fluttered. You tried to respond, but your words caught somewhere between your throat and your racing heart. All you could do was smile, cheeks burning, as you stepped out into the night. You didn’t even remember saying goodbye to the others. You just kept touching your cheek where his mouth had been.

Another night, another game. Everyone was online, the Discord call full of laughing and yelling as you all loaded into a League match. But it felt different this time. You could feel it immediately, even before Heeseung joined. Your heart jumped a little when his icon lit up green. “Yo.” he said, like always. “Hi.” you replied softly. He hummed, low and warm. “Miss me already?” Someone snorted in the background, Kai probably, but you didn’t even flinch. “Maybe a little,” you said, light and teasing. “Don’t let it get to your head.” He chuckled. “Too late, princess.” Nobody commented. Nobody knew. But you could hear the grin in his voice, and the sound made something tug low in your stomach. You played League. You laughed with the others. The usual trash talk flew back and forth, but the way Heeseung talked to you now? It wasn’t the same.

When you stole a kill from him, he groaned dramatically. “Wow. Can’t believe my own girlfriend would do me like that.” You choked. “Heeseung—!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “Still pending, I guess.”

Kai laughed. “Damn, she’s got you whipped.”

Heeseung only hummed again. “Can you blame me?”

Your cheeks burned, but you didn’t deny it. You just pushed your mic away a little, smiled at your screen, and kept playing.

You were mid-game, headset on, pretending to be fully focused, but your phone kept lighting up beside you. You shouldn’t have looked.

Heeseung [11:26 pm]

u looked really pretty yesterday btw

Your fingers stuttered on the keyboard.

You [11:26 pm]

heeseung please focus i’m literally dying in mid rn

Heeseung [11:26 pm]

how am i supposed to focus when u looked like that in that dress

unfair tbh

Your face was burning. You typed quickly, glancing at your minimap.

You [11:26 pm]

stop distracting me :(

Heeseung [11:27 pm]

can’t help it

u get all shy when i text u and it’s cute asf

You tried so hard to keep a straight face. Then, right when you were getting pushed under tower, Heeseung’s champion appeared in lane. Ganked clean. You got the kill. “Nice!” you said out loud, a little breathless. And then you heard it through the headset. “That’s my girl,” Heeseung murmured. You giggled. Couldn’t even help it. The call exploded.

“Kill me already,” Sunghoon groaned. “Get a room.”

“I’m gonna uninstall.” someone else muttered.

You pressed a hand over your smile, pretending to focus again, but your phone lit up once more:

Heeseung [11:30 pm]

u liked that baby?

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh again. The match was still going, your screen full of chaos, but all you could think about was the heat spreading over your cheeks.

You [11:30 pm]

maybe i didd

The typing bubble popped up right away.

Heeseung [11:30 pm]

yeah?

bet you’d like it even more if i whispered it in ur ear while u were on my lap

Your stomach flipped, pulse thudding deep in your chest. You squeezed your knees together under your desk and stared at your screen, barely registering the game anymore.

You [11:31 pm]

hee.

stoppp that’s not fair :(

Heeseung [11:31 pm]

aww baby’s getting all shy now?

cute

You didn’t answer right away, and he didn’t need you to. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. And when he pinged on the map again to come help you in lane, you swear your hands were trembling.

It was past 2 a.m. now. The group was deep into another League match, your sixth of the night. And the fourth loss. Everyone was tilted. Half-joking, swearing under their breath. But Heeseung…Heeseung was seething. You could hear it in the way he was clicking. Rapid, furious, sharp. His voice had dropped into this low, tight drawl as he muttered, “This jungler’s a bot. Actually brainless.” You shouldn’t have found it attractive. But the heat in his voice, the frustration curling behind every breath, it made your stomach flutter. But then his mic went quiet. You knew that silence. The kind that was dangerous. “Bro, this is unplayable,” Heeseung muttered suddenly. His voice sounded a bit raspy and tired. “I can’t do this shit anymore. I’m out.” Disconnect.

The call fell into stunned silence for a second. Then Sunghoon sighed. “Yikes.” Your heart dropped. You stared at your screen for a long second, your fingers frozen over your keyboard. You hadn’t even typed “gg.” You stayed quiet. Just tried to blink back the weird sting that hit you way too fast. “I’m gonna switch to Valorant,” Jay said. “Anyone else?”

“I’m in,” you mumbled, a little too quickly. You didn’t want to log off. Not yet. Not if he texted. So you launched the game, joined a party, and tried to laugh along with the others, but every second that passed, your eyes flicked down to your phone. Still nothing.

It was almost 4 a.m. by the time you logged off. You barely said goodbye, too drained from the string of losses, but more so from the ache in your chest that had settled there after Heeseung left the call. He didn’t text. Not once. You went through your usual motions anyway. Washed your face, pulled on an oversized tee, got under the covers with your phone still in hand, brightness low, just mindlessly scrolling. Checking Instagram, discord, his profile—more than once. Still nothing. Your screen dimmed. You stared at the faint glow on your ceiling, curled under your blanket, and tried not to overthink it. You told yourself he was just mad at the game, not at you. Your phone eventually slipped from your hand onto the pillow beside you. And sometime after, you drifted off, eyes closed, heart a little too heavy for sleep to come easy.

Buzz.

Your screen lit up softly in the dark. You squinted one eye open.

Heeseung [4:21 am]

sry abt that

Your heart thumped. You reached for your phone with a sleepy hand, your fingers a little clumsy as you unlocked it.

Buzz.

Heeseung [4:21 am]

wasn’t mad at u or anything

And then, after a moment:

Heeseung [4:23 am]

missed ur voice tbh

Your breath caught. Your thumb hovered over the keyboard, your chest warm, a smile curling on your lips as you looked at the screen.

You [4:24 am]

it was boring without u :(

There was barely a pause before your phone buzzed again.

Heeseung [4:24 am]

yeah baby?

That one made your breath hitch. You turned onto your back, screen hovering above your face now, your lips pressing together to contain the smile threatening to break free.

You [4:24 am]

mhm

wanted u there

The typing bubble appeared again. Stopped. Then came back.

Heeseung [4:25 am]

wanted to be there too

but u know how i get with that game lol

You giggled softly.

You [4:25 am]

i do

but u still sounded hot all pissed off like that

You waited, then cringed a little, your heart racing like ‘shit why did i say that’. A second later:

Heeseung [4:26 am]

oh yeah?

u like when i’m mad baby?

should’ve seen me after i logged off

was thinking abt u

Your heart stilled.

Heeseung [4:26 am]

couldn’t stop thinking abt ur thighs

Your hand went to your chest like you could calm the thunder in your heart.

You [4:26 am]

hee.

you can’t say stuff like that rn

Heeseung [4:27 am]

why not?

no one’s around

just me n my sleepy girl

You [4:27 am]

hmm

u like my thighs? :3

Heeseung [4:27 am]

i love them baby

You stared at his last message, your pulse loud in your ears. You swallowed. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard for a moment before you typed.

You [4:28 am]

u love them?

Heeseung [4:28 am]

mmhmm

love how soft they looked when u sat next to me

kept thinking abt how warm u’d feel on my lap

Your thighs pressed together instinctively, breath catching. You hesitated. Then, slowly, like some part of you needed him to see, you pushed the blanket down. Your legs were folded up, thighs squished slightly together. Your tiny shorts clung to you, barely covering the top of your legs. With one hand, you tugged your shirt up just enough to show a sliver of your tummy, skin warm and soft under the low light of your phone screen. Your finger trembled as you tapped the shutter. You stared at the photo for a long moment. You didn’t look perfect, not posed like other girls might be. But something about it felt so real. So you sent it anyway.

You [4:30 am]

here :)

Three seconds passed. Then five.

Buzz.

Heeseung [4:30 am]

jesus baby

you’re gonna kill me

so fucking pretty

Buzz.

Heeseung [4:30 am]

can’t stop looking

want u so bad right now

Your body was warm all over. You stared at his words with your bottom lip between your teeth, your legs slowly stretching under the blanket again, your heart racing faster than it had all night. You type with shaky fingers.

You [4:31 am]

want u too :(

miss u

You don’t even care how needy it sounds, because it’s true. You miss the way he looked at you when no one else was watching. You miss the warmth of his hand next to yours. You miss how soft his lips were on yours.

Heeseung [4:31 am]

fuck baby

wish i could sneak into ur bed rn

kiss u slow n make u feel good

You bite your lip hard. Your whole body feels electric , flushed with adrenaline and want. You prop your phone up for a moment, your hand slipping under your oversized shirt. Your palm covers your left tit, squeezing softly. Your thighs shift and spread slightly as you angle the camera, lifting your shirt a little, enough to show a peek of tummy, the curve of your waist, the swell of your thighs pressed together in the low light. You snap the photo, heart hammering. And before you can change your mind, you send it.

Buzz.

Heeseung [4:33 am]

holy fuck

look at u baby…

can’t believe u sent this to me

Buzz.

Heeseung [4:33 am]

ur unreal

my pretty girl

all mine yeah?

Your legs curl up under the blanket again, warmth spreading between your thighs as you try to calm your breathing, but it’s impossible now, he’s everywhere, in your head, under your skin.

You [4:34 am]

mhm! only urs

want u so bad :((

Your pulse thunders in your ears as you shift on the bed, tugging your shirt higher. You take your shorts off, leaving your panties on, the cotton clinging to your pussy, soaked through, and you let your legs fall open. One hand moves to squeeze your tit, fingers covering your nipple, the curve of your breast spilling out just enough. Your shirt’s bunched under your chin, tummy soft and exposed. You lift your phone, and take a picture. You stare at it for a moment. You feel sick with nerves. Then:

You [4:35 am]

see? :(

You send the photo and immediately regret it. Not because you don’t want him to see it—you do, so badly—but because now there’s nothing. No reply. You stare at your screen, chewing your bottom lip. One minute passes. Then two. Then three. Your stomach twists, nerves bubbling up like soda fizz under your skin. Was it too much? Did you freak him out? You reach for your phone again just as the screen lights up.

Heeseung [4:39 am]

….

Your breath catches.

Heeseung [4:39 am]

princess i’m so fucking hard rn…

You bite down on your lip, heart pounding, legs still spread. His message replays in your head again and again. You can’t help yourself.

You [4:40 am]

proof? :3

The typing bubble appears instantly. Then disappears. Then it’s still again for a moment, until your screen lights up with a photo. He’s shirtless, skin flushed, abs tight. His hand is cupping his bulge through soft gray sweats, and the outline is obscene. Big. Thick. Heavy. You swear you let out the softest gasp, your thighs instinctively rubbing together. He’s huge. You press your phone to your chest, eyes wide, heart fluttering out of rhythm.

You [4:40 am]

ugh hee this is so unfair :((

Heeseung [4:41 am]

wanna make it fair baby

want u to touch yourself for me

You don’t even think. Your fingers are already slipping under the waistband of your panties before you start typing, your other hand barely steady.

You [4:41 am]

i’m already touching myself hee :( can’t stop

Your cheeks burn, your breath shaky as you press down, wet, aching, throbbing for him.

Heeseung [4:42 am]

fuck princess

wish i was there

i’d take care of u so good

you’d be shaking on my fingers

Your head falls back against your pillow as you whimper, reading and rereading his messages. He’s so good with his words, you feel them in your chest, between your legs, everywhere.

Heeseung [4:42 am]

how are u touching yourself baby?

You can’t even think straight anymore. His messages have your body burning, soaked and aching, and your fingers are moving slow, desperate circles over your clit, and all you can think about is him. The weight of his hand. The sound of his voice. His lips saying “that’s my girl.” You need him to see you like this. You pull the covers back just a little, breathing shaky as you lift your phone. One hand slips back under the waistband of your panties, your fingers teasing just enough to make your thighs twitch. You snap a photo. Your hand between your legs. Your panties slightly tugged down. Your thighs soft and parted. You’re trembling when you hit send.

You [4:43 am]

…

Seconds feel like hours.

Heeseung [4:43 am]

jesus fucking christ

look at you

fuck

keep touching yourself just like that

pretend it’s me

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard, the other hand still moving—slow, desperate circles on your clit, slick and messy. You’re so close already it’s dizzying.

You [4:43 am]

i always pretend it’s u hee :(

You hit send, barely able to see straight. It takes him a moment.

Heeseung [4:44 am]

fuck baby

you’re driving me insane

wish i could hear u right now

whimpering all soft and needy

Another sharp flick of your wrist and you gasp, eyes fluttering shut. You are whimpering, broken, breathy sounds you try to muffle into your pillow.

Heeseung [4:44 am]

keep rubbing that pretty little pussy for me

slow circles baby just like i’d do it

make yourself cum for me yeah?

You [4:44 am]

mhm :((

are u touching yourself too?

You send it while circling your clit just the way he told you to—slow, trembling, and wet. You can barely keep your hand steady, your thighs twitching at every glide. A second later, his response lights up your screen.

Heeseung [4:45 am]

yes baby

can’t help it

your pictures, your little sounds in my head

i’m so hard it hurts

That does it. You rub harder, faster, the heat coiling deep in your belly, your hips stuttering into your hand as you let out a tiny gasp, cheeks flushed, lip caught between your teeth. You need more, and he knows it.

Heeseung [4:46 am]

baby

put ur fingers inside for me

pretend it’s my fingers deep inside u

You whimper at the message, already sliding your fingers down lower, slipping them in without resistance. You’re so wet, they glide in easily, your head tilting back at the stretch, the heat, the ache.

Heeseung [4:46 am]

god i wish it was me

wish i could feel how tight you are

i’d fuck u nice and slow

You moan into your pillow, fingers curling, fucking yourself just like he would—thinking about his voice in your ear, his breath on your skin, the way he’d whisper praises in your ear while kissing your neck. It hits hard, your orgasm ripping through you in waves, thighs trembling around your hand, lips parted in a silent cry. You stay like that for a moment, ruined and flushed, before managing to pull your hand away. Still breathless, you lift your phone with shaky fingers and take another photo—your soaked fingers, a glossy string of cum stretched between them.

You [4:48 am]

made a mess for u hee :)

Heeseung [4:48am]

fuck…

fuck princess

i’m gonna cum

You’re still catching your breath when your phone buzzes again.

Heeseung [4:50 am]

you’re unreal baby

so pretty

so good for me

my perfect girl

You smile, cheeks hot, curled beneath your blanket now, the ache between your legs softening into warmth. You type slowly, eyes heavy with sleep.

You [4:50 am]

hee

u make me feel so good :(

want u here

wanna fall asleep on your chest

Heeseung [4:51 am]

i’d hold u so close princess

kiss ur forehead

play with ur hair til u fall asleep

You let out a soft, sleepy giggle into your pillow.

You [4:51 am]

mm that sounds perfect

goodnight hee <3

Heeseung [4:51 am]

goodnight baby

dream of me yeah?

<33

You tuck your phone under your pillow, smile still lingering on your lips as your eyes flutter shut, his words wrapped around you like a blanket.

You wake up to the soft buzz of your phone against your sheets, light from the screen spilling across your pillow.

27 new messages.

Your stomach flips. The group chat is blowing up and your name is all over it.

Sunoo

okay so it’s settled?? Heeseung’s place again??

Jungwon

yup tonight

Sunghoon

y/n don’t forget your controller

Jay

does she even know what’s happening rn

You stare at the screen, frozen. Heeseung’s place. Your cheeks burn as last night flashes in your mind, his voice, his texts, your fingers between your thighs. The pictures you sent. The ones he sent. And now… this? What if it’s weird now? What if it was just fun for him in the moment, but he doesn’t actually want you? What if he regrets it, and you’re showing up like a fool? You’re overthinking. Still, your fingers hover above the keyboard, hesitation burning in your chest. Then a new message pops up.

Heeseung

y/n are u in?

Three words. That’s all it takes to make your heart skip. You wait, ten seconds, twenty, trying not to read too much into it. Then, finally, you reply.

You

yeah :)

You stare at the little smiley face, hoping it doesn’t look too nervous. Hoping he sees it and hears the ‘please still want me’ in your head. Your phone buzzes again.

Heeseung [1:27 pm] (privately)

morning princess

missed u already

You [1:27 pm]

morning hee

missed u too <3

You send it before you can overthink, then hide your face in your pillow, kicking your legs. Your stomach is still tight with nerves, but his reply melts them just enough to let a smile creep in.

You’re staring at your reflection again. For the third time. Your skirt is short, but not too short, you tell yourself, sitting perfectly on your waist. The soft grey cardigan you picked out earlier clings to your frame just enough to show it off, the top buttons left undone so collarbones and chest show. You’re wearing perfume, a subtle one, the same one you wore last time at his place. You look cute. You know you do. You just hope he notices. Hope he wants you still. Hope none of what happened the other night has changed the way he looks at you.

Your phone buzzes again.

Sunoo

on our way! be there in 10

You grab your bag, swipe on a little extra lip balm, and head out. Fast-forward to Heeseung’s front door, everyone’s already inside laughing and talking as you step in. The same cozy orange light glows through the living room, voices echoing through the apartment. And then you see him, sitting on the edge of the couch in a hoodie and sweatpants, hair slightly messy like always, exactly how you like it. He turns his head the second you walk in. And you swear his eyes trail down your body, slow and shameless.

“Hey.” he says, voice low, lips lifting into the slightest smirk. “Hey.” you mumble, already feeling your cheeks warm. “You look cute.” he says simply. Like it’s just a fact. You barely manage a quiet “thank you.” before Sunghoon yells something about Mario Kart and the moment is gone. But not really, because you can feel his gaze on you even when you’re looking away.

The night has that same warm, familiar glow as last time—soft lights casting a gentle hue over Heeseung’s living room, the TV humming low as the next movie rolls. Everyone’s sprawled around the room now, Sunghoon’s half-asleep already with a bowl of popcorn resting on his chest, Jay and Sunoo are arguing playfully about which horror movie is better, and Heeseung’s legs are stretched out in front of the couch where you’re curled up on one end, hugging a fluffy pillow. Your skirt’s ruffled from how you’ve been shifting to get comfy, the neckline of your cardigan dipping slightly as you sink deeper into the cushions. You feel his gaze again, subtle but heavy. You glance up just in time to catch it, and he doesn’t even look away. He just smirks a little. You flush. Again.

Trying to act casual, you tuck your legs under yourself, tugging the hem of your skirt down just a little more. The warmth of the room, the quiet chatter, the way Heeseung hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you walked in, it’s all making you drowsy. By the time the third movie starts playing, your head is dipped against the couch, your cheek pressed to your arm. You fight it for a bit, blinking slow, barely following the plot, but your body is already giving in. Your breathing slows, your limbs go still, and eventually…you fall asleep. Heeseung notices immediately. At first, he just glances over, ready to make a comment, maybe tease you, but the words never come out. Instead, his expression softens. The curve of your lashes against your cheek, the way your lips part ever so slightly when you exhale, it’s enough to make his heart stutter.

He shifts, propping his elbow on the couch, letting his fingers curl against his cheek, watching you in silence while everyone else reacts to whatever’s happening on screen. You’re practically glowing under the dim light, blanket half falling off your thighs, cardigan slipping off one shoulder just enough to make him swallow hard. A while passes like that. Quiet. Intimate. Like it’s just the two of you in the room. Then Jay says something about it being past 3AM, and someone stands, stretching with a dramatic groan. “Should we bounce?” Sunghoon asks, rubbing his eyes. Jay nods. “Yeah, i’m dead. Heeseung, all good?” Heeseung tears his eyes away from you for the first time in a while. “Yeah.” Someone notices you next. “She’s out cold.” Jay leans in, whispering loudly. “You want us to wake her?”

Heeseung shakes his head, protective without even realizing it. “No. Don’t. She’s fine.” And just like that, they gather their things. Shoes are slipped on, phones grabbed off chargers, quiet goodbyes are mumbled, but Heeseung stays seated beside you, gaze still locked on your sleeping form. When the door finally closes and the apartment is quiet again, he stays still. His living room is bathed in that same soft orange glow, the credits roll on the TV, and you’re still there, breathing slow and peaceful, curled up with your lashes fluttering faintly, as if even in your sleep, you know he’s watching. He shifts just a little closer. You stir slightly when you feel the couch dip beside you, your body still heavy with sleep. “Hey, princess,” a voice murmurs, soft and warm near your ear. “Everyone left.” You blink up at him, slow and disoriented, eyes adjusting to the dim light. “Oh…I fell asleep?” Heeseung’s face is close, framed by the golden hue of the room, his smile gentle and just a little smug.

“Yeah,” he says, brushing a thumb lightly over your cheek. “You looked too cute to wake up.” You bite back a flustered smile, pulling the blanket tighter around your body. “You could’ve at least nudged me…” He shrugs, still looking at you like you hung the stars. “Didn’t want to. You looked peaceful.”

Your heart flutters, cheeks warming as your sleepiness starts to fade. He doesn’t move away, his face is still close, his hand resting beside your waist. The room feels warmer than it did earlier, quieter. Like everything outside of this couch doesn’t matter right now. You shift a little, your voice still a bit hushed. “So…it’s just us now?” Heeseung hums, tilting his head. “Yeah.” A pause.“You wanna stay a bit longer?” he adds. “Just us?” And the look he gives you isn’t teasing, not this time. It’s curious and hopeful.

You nod, still wrapped in the blanket, and sit up a little. A quiet yawn slips out before you bring your hand up to rub your eyes, still groggy, still warm from sleep. When you look up at him again, Heeseung’s already watching you, so closely, his gaze soft and heavy, like you’re the only thing in the world worth looking at. His lips are slightly parted, his expression unreadable but so full of something you’ve never seen from him before, not like this. Your heart stutters. Maybe it’s the quiet of the room. Maybe it’s the way he hasn’t looked away from you once. Maybe it’s the leftover warmth from your late-night texts, from the ache you haven’t been able to shake since. But something makes you reach out, slow and uncertain, your fingers brushing against his cheek before settling there gently. His skin is warm under your touch, and his lashes flutter just slightly at the contact, but he doesn’t move away.

Heeseung leans into your hand just the tiniest bit. And then, before you can overthink it, before you can get too scared, you lean in. Your lips press softly against his, barely there at first, just enough to feel the way he exhales sharply through his nose. His hand brushes lightly against your knee under the blanket, but he doesn’t pull you closer, doesn’t rush it. He just lets you kiss him, lets you decide. When you slowly pull back, your breath catching in your throat, you meet his eyes again. He’s smiling, soft, in awe, and he whispers, “Hey.”

A small laugh escapes your lips, bashful and sweet. “Hi.” You don’t say anything else for a second, both of you just sitting there in the glow of the room. And something in the way he’s looking at you, so soft, so wanting, makes the nerves dissolve into something deeper, heavier, needier. So you kiss him again.

This time with more pressure, more feeling, like all the nights of tension are finally spilling out through your lips. Your hand slips from his cheek to the back of his head, threading into his hair gently, and you feel him breathe in sharply when you do. His hands grip your waist and pull you effortlessly into his lap, and you melt against him, thighs bracketing his hips as his touch slides down to caress them slowly, reverently. You sigh softly into his mouth, and he hums in response, the sound low and satisfied. His fingers squeeze just above your knees, coaxing you closer until there’s nothing between you but heat and fabric.

Your arms wind around his shoulders, fingers threading into his hair as the kiss deepens, grows hungrier, but still soft around the edges. His lips break from yours for only a moment, breath shaky against your cheek. “Could kiss you forever.” he whispers, voice rough and thick. Your lips are still barely touching when you whisper it—quiet, breathless, almost like a confession. “I missed you.” He pauses, eyes searching yours, hands still resting on your waist like he’s afraid to let go. His voice is gentler when he replies, like he’s matching your softness.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along the hem of your cardigan. “I missed you too, princess. So much.” You feel your cheeks heat up, but you don’t look away, not this time. Not when he’s holding you like that, not when he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters. A shaky breath escapes you before you murmur, “You have no idea how much I thought about you.” Heeseung tilts his head, his thumb tracing slow circles on your waist. “Yeah, baby?” he asks softly, like he’s afraid to hope. “Tell me.” You press your lips together for a moment before whispering, “I couldn’t stop replaying everything…the way you looked at me, the way you talked to me last night. I couldn’t sleep.” He lets out the faintest exhale, something between a sigh and a groan, like your words hit him right in the chest. “I know,” he says, brushing his nose against yours. “You’ve been in my head ever since i met you.” You look up at him again, shy and aching. “I was scared maybe you changed your mind.”

“Not even close,” he says without hesitation. “You don’t get it…I haven’t wanted someone like this, ever.” Your fingers curl into his hoodie, heart thudding. His lips find yours again, slower, more sure. His hands cradle you like he can’t believe you’re real. “I want you, Heeseung.” For a second, he just stares at you, his grip tightening ever so slightly on your waist. Then he leans in, lips brushing yours, voice dropping into something husky and warm, so low it shoots straight through your spine. “Show me how much, baby.” You don’t hesitate. You crash your lips to his in a filthy, needy kiss—nothing like the soft ones you shared before. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as your body presses flush against his. He groans into your mouth, both arms wrapping around you, dragging you further onto his lap. His fingers slide up beneath your cardigan, caressing the soft skin of your waist, and your hips roll instinctively. Heeseung’s lips move feverishly against yours, and everything about him feels hot and overwhelming, like he’s been holding himself back for far too long. “You drive me crazy.” he mutters against your lips, breathless. You only kiss him harder in response, fingers clutching the sides of his jaw like you never want to let go.

His hands drift lower, until they slip beneath the hem of your skirt. You gasp softly into the kiss when his palms find the soft flesh of your thighs, then higher, until he’s gripping your ass with both hands, squeezing gently but possessively. “You’re so cute, baby.” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice thick with need and affection. You whimper, biting down softly on your lower lip as you pull back just enough to look at him. His eyes are dark, hooded, roaming over your face like he’s trying to memorize every little expression. Your cheeks flush, your hands stay tangled in his hair, your body warm and trembling in his lap. “You make me feel so…” you whisper, unsure how to finish the sentence with how full your chest feels. Heeseung leans in again, kissing you slower this time, his thumbs tracing soft circles over your skin. “I know,” he whispers. “Me too.”

Without even thinking, your hips begin to move , slow, subtle rolls against his lap, just seeking friction, something to ease the ache building between your thighs. You don’t even realize what you’re doing at first, too lost in the feeling of him, the way his hands are holding you, the way his lips feel on yours. But the second you hear him exhale, a deep, shuddering breath, you freeze. “Princess…” he murmurs, his voice all rough and low, like he’s holding back. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your cheeks burning. “Hee…” you whisper, flustered, your fingers gripping his shoulders for balance. “I didn’t mean to—” His hands slide up your back slowly, soothing. “Don’t hide from me,” he says, and you feel him smile softly against your temple. “Keep going, baby.” Your breath catches, and you nod slowly, your lips brushing his skin as you speak. Your hips keep moving against him, soft and needy, your fingers clutching the fabric of his hoodie like it’s the only thing grounding you. “Hee…” you breathe, your voice trembling as your lips brush against the warm skin of his neck. “You feel so good…”

Your soft moan spills out before you can stop it—quiet, breathy, but it sends a sharp jolt through Heeseung. His grip on your waist tightens as his cock throbs beneath you, straining against his sweats. “Fuck, baby…” he groans, his voice rough and low. “You sound so good—gonna make me lose my mind.” You shiver at his words. You try to bury your face even deeper into his neck, cheeks burning. “Stop…” you whisper shyly, squirming in his lap, but not enough to actually get away. “Don’t say stuff like that…” He laughs softly, the sound husky and fond as he presses a kiss to your temple. “Why not?” he murmurs. “It’s true. You’re so fucking cute when you’re like this…all needy and shy in my lap.”

Your body moves again, hips rolling against him with a little more need, a little more desperation. Each soft moan and whimper that escapes your lips only fuels him more, your breath catching every time your clothed core drags along the thick bulge in his sweats. “Ngh…” you whimper, clinging to him. “Mmh—just like that, baby…” Heeseung groans, deep and low, his hands sliding down your waist until they’re gripping your ass again, squeezing it firmly. His fingers dig in just a little as he helps guide your movements, encouraging you to grind harder against him, a soft moan leaving your mouth. “Yeah?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “That what you want, princess?” You nod quickly, too dizzy to speak. He chuckles under his breath, hands keeping you steady as he rocks you against him, the pressure sending sparks through your whole body. “So pretty—so fucking soft—can’t get enough of you…”

His hands slip beneath your cardigan slowly, warm palms cupping your breasts over your bra, and the soft moan that escapes you only makes his breath hitch. “Fuck…” he murmurs, voice low and strained as he palms at you, thumbing over the fabric. You’re trembling, but still, you find the courage to sit back just enough to slowly shrug your cardigan off, cheeks burning as it falls to the couch behind you. You look up at him with wide, shy eyes, your chest rising and falling. His jaw drops slightly. “Holy fuck…” he breathes, eyes glued to the way your breasts spill against the bra, soft and full. He wastes no time, hands grabbing them over the fabric, squeezing them in his palms. “You like them, Hee?” you whisper shyly, barely able to meet his eyes.

He lets out a soft, strained laugh, eyes dark. “Princess,” he groans, “I’m so fucking hard right now, what do you think?” Your whole face flushes hot, lips parted slightly. Still, you manage a soft, almost breathless, “You can take it off…if you wanna,” your voice fragile, and your eyes impossibly big and trusting. He stares at you like you just gave him the universe. Heeseung doesn’t say anything right away, just watches you for a moment, barely holding himself together. Then, slowly, he leans in. His lips find your neck, soft and warm, pressing kisses down the delicate skin like he’s savoring you. Each one slower than the last, trailing lower with every breath you take. Your eyes flutter shut, your fingers threading back into his hair as a shaky sigh slips from your lips.

His hands move with purpose, sliding behind you, and you feel the gentle tug as his fingers find the clasp of your bra. With one flick, it comes undone. The straps fall loose against your arms, and he pulls back slightly, eyes meeting yours. You give him a small nod, cheeks burning. He pushes the straps off your shoulders and lets the bra fall between you. Then his hands return to your chest, palms warm and reverent as he cups you fully now, skin to skin. He groans softly, like he can’t help it, like the feel of you is too much. “So soft,” he mutters, squeezing you gently. “So fucking perfect…” Your head tilts slightly with a quiet whimper, lips parted, body buzzing with heat as he rolls your nipples between his fingers, teasing and slow. “You’re driving me insane, princess,” he breathes, voice thick and low. “You’re too pretty for your own good.”

You lean in just a little, shy but needy, and Heeseung catches on instantly. His hands slide up your sides again, and he brings his mouth to your chest, kissing over the soft swell before wrapping his lips around one nipple. He sucks gently, warm tongue flicking, lips tugging just enough to make you gasp. One of his hands squeezes the other breast while his mouth works you, slow and purposeful. You whimper, back arching instinctively, and your hips begin to move again, grinding softly against the bulge straining beneath you. He switches sides, his mouth now on your other breast, sucking, licking, groaning low in his throat like he can’t get enough of you. “You like it, princess?” he murmurs between kisses, breath warm against your skin. “mhm” you whine softly, your eyes shut tight as you let the pleasure wash over you. He chuckles, proud and a little breathless himself. “Yeah? Then keep going, baby.” he murmurs, voice thick. His hands settle on your hips, helping guide your rhythm as you rock against him. “Just like that.”

His mouth returns to your chest, and the room fills with quiet whimpers, heavy breathing, and the soft sound of his lips on your skin. Your fingers tug gently at the hem of his shirt, your voice barely above a whisper. “Hee…” Heeseung doesn’t hesitate, he pulls his shirt off in one smooth motion and tosses it aside, and you can’t help the soft gasp that escapes your lips. Your eyes roam his toned chest, the sharp lines of his abs catching the dim light. You bite your lip, hands instinctively rising to trace along the ridges, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your trembling fingertips. Still grinding against him, you lean forward slowly, pressing soft kisses to the side of his neck. One after another, each one deeper, needier. His breath catches when your lips suck gently, leaving behind faint red marks, proof of how badly you want him.

He groans, low and raspy, and his hands return to your ass, squeezing hard, pulling you closer as your grinding becomes more desperate. “Fuck, baby.” he whispers, voice thick and strained, his head falling back just slightly as your mouth moves along his neck. His grip on your ass tightens as he helps guide your hips faster, harder—grinding down on the thick bulge straining beneath you. Every drag of him against your clothed cunt sends sparks through your body, his cock catching perfectly on your clit, the pressure unbearable in the best way. Your moans come out higher now, breathy and helpless, and it only spurs him on. He groans low, “You’re gonna cum, princess?” You nod frantically, eyes squeezed shut, hips rocking with desperate rhythm. “Please…Hee, please—”

He doesn’t make you beg more than that. One of his hands slips down between your bodies, under your skirt, fingers pressing against the soaked fabric of your panties. He rubs small, fast circles on your clit, syncing with your grinding, the friction making you cry out. “Shit, you’re so wet.” he breathes, watching you fall apart on top of him. “Feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” And you can only nod again, whimpering, as your orgasm builds sharp and fast in your gut—his voice in your ear, his hands on your body, everything pushing you closer and closer. You tremble as the wave crashes over you, tugging on his hair as your orgasm hits—your soft, broken whimpers filling his ears as you finish, your body melting in his arms. Heeseung wraps you up, his hand stroking gently up and down your back as he whispers, “Good girl…so good for me.”

Still catching your breath, you lift your head, take his face in both your hands, and kiss him deeply, slow and messy and full of all the want that had been simmering between you for weeks. When you finally pull back, your lips are kiss-swollen, your cheeks flushed, your eyes shy, but burning with something he can’t look away from. You shift off his lap, still trembling a little, and settle down between his legs instead. Sitting back on your knees, you look up at him through your lashes, arms resting against his thighs, pressing your soft chest together just a little. “Fuck.” he breathes, his voice raspier now, his eyes dark as they rake over you. His cock is twitching in his pants, straining, aching, just from the way you’re looking at him. Just from you. “Princess…” he says low, barely holding himself back. Your voice comes out breathy and shy, but so full of want it makes his head spin. “I wanna make you feel good, Hee…”

Heeseung’s eyes drop to your hands as they move gently over the hard bulge in his pants, slow and curious, your fingers tentative but so eager. He swears under his breath, biting down on his lip, the way you look up at him so innocent while touching him nearly making him lose his mind. “Shit, baby…” he groans, hips twitching slightly into your touch. “You’re driving me crazy.” You blink up at him, a soft smile tugging on your lips as your hands press a little firmer, rubbing him through the fabric. “Let me?” you ask quietly, so sweet, so soft, like you’re asking for permission to ruin him. He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb along your skin, voice low and wrecked. “You can do anything you want to me, princess.” You give him the softest kiss on the cheek, your lips lingering just a second longer, like a promise.

Then, slowly, with trembling fingers, you tug down his sweatpants and boxers, your breath catching when his cock springs free—big, leaking, heavy against his stomach. Your thighs instinctively press together at the sight, and your lips part slightly, like you’re already imagining how he might taste. “God…” Heeseung exhales, his head tipping back as he watches you through lidded eyes. You wrap both hands around him delicately, like you’re handling something precious, and lean in, placing a soft, innocent kiss right on the tip. Your eyes flick up to meet his as you do, wide, shimmering, so sweet it makes his jaw clench. “You’re so pretty, Hee…” you whisper, kissing him again, lips brushing lightly down the side of his shaft.

He twitches in your hand, groaning low. “You’re the one that’s pretty, princess,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “So fucking pretty…down on your knees for me.” He cups the back of your head gently, fingers threading into your hair as you continue kissing along his length, so slow, so teasing, savoring every second. Your tongue flicks out slowly, tasting the tip, salty and warm. You kiss it again, before dragging your tongue just a little lower, teasing the underside as you hear Heeseung’s breath hitch above you. “Fuck…” he mutters under his breath, his grip on your hair tightening just slightly.

You kiss him again, and then finally part your lips and sink down just a little, taking him into your mouth, the warmth and weight of him making you shiver. The second he’s inside, even just barely, a soft moan escapes you, quiet, involuntary, but enough to make him groan. “You like it, baby?” he breathes, his voice low and ruined. You hum around him in response, sending vibrations up his shaft, and it makes him curse again. You pull back slightly, your lips wet and shiny, looking up at him with that same innocent gaze. Heeseung’s jaw clenches as he watches you. “God, you’re so fucking perfect, princess…” You wrap your lips fully around him, taking him deeper this time, your mouth warm and wet as you start to suck with more confidence. Your hand tightens its grip around his shaft, fingers sliding smoothly as you bob your head up and down, eyes locked on his dark, intense gaze.

A thin strand of drool escapes the corner of your mouth, dripping down his length, but you don’t care, your focus is on him, on the way his breath hitches and his body tenses under your touch. Heeseung groans, one hand curling around your cheek, thumb brushing softly over your skin while the other finds your hair, guiding your movements like a gentle command. “Fuck, baby,” he rasps, voice rough and desperate. “Just like that—keep going.” You obey without hesitation, the rhythm steady and slow, savoring every moment, every reaction from him. You take him a little deeper, the sudden stretch making you gag softly. Your eyes water, tears gathering at the corners, but you don’t stop, driven by the way Heeseung’s low moan vibrates through you. Pulling back just enough to catch your breath, you look up at him with wide, glistening eyes and ask in a quiet, tender voice, “Does it feel good, baby?”

The moment the word leaves your lips, his composure shatters. His grip tightens, jaw clenches, and a guttural growl escapes him.“Fuck…,” he rasps, voice thick with want and disbelief. “You calling me that…I’m losing it.” His hands tighten in your hair, pulling you gently but firmly back down as his hips shift, desperate for more. Heeseung’s hands grip your hair firmly, guiding your head up and down faster now. Your soft moans fill the room, the vibrations sending shivers straight through him. He growls low, voice strained with need. “Shit—I’m gonna cum, princess.” he warns, breath hitching. You pull back just enough, lips parted and tongue sliding out to trace the length of him one last time. Your hands move eagerly up and down his shaft, keeping the pace as you wait for him to let go. His hips jerk forward suddenly, and he curses, fingers tangling tighter in your hair as he shudders, spilling hot and heavy into your mouth. You swallow it all and then lean in, lips parted, tongue peeking out to show him it’s all gone—clean, obedient, just for him.

His eyes darken as he exhales shakily. “Holy shit, baby…you’re fucking unreal.” You giggle softly, cheeks flushed, and crawl back onto his lap. Your lips meet his for a tender kiss, sweet and slow, but he kisses you back harder, possessive now, hands sliding over your hips before squeezing your ass firmly. The sudden smack he lands on it makes you whimper against his lips, body jolting slightly. Then, with barely a second to catch your breath, he flips you over on the couch, your back hitting the cushions with a soft thud, his body hovering over yours. He kisses you hungrily, like he can’t get enough, mouth trailing down your neck, your collarbones, teeth grazing, lips sucking until you know there’ll be marks. You whimper beneath him, arching into his touch, needing more.

He pulls your skirt down slowly, followed by your panties, dragging the soft fabric down your thighs with careful hands, like he’s unwrapping something precious. His breath catches when you’re bare for him, eyes darkening as he settles between your legs. His fingers gently part you, slow and deliberate, and he swipes through your slick with a quiet exhale. “So pretty…” he murmurs, almost to himself, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Embarrassment flutters in your chest and you instinctively cover your face with your hands, cheeks burning. He chuckles softly, voice low and warm. “Why are you hiding from me, baby?”

You don’t answer, you can’t, not when he leans in and presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to you, licking a slow stripe that has your back arching. You gasp, your fingers reaching down to grab at his hair. He keeps going, licking, kissing, sucking, slow at first, then faster, more purposeful. You whimper his name, thighs trembling as he keeps you open with one arm wrapped around your hip. And then, his fingers. One sliding in, then another, curling just right as his mouth never lets up. The combination makes your toes curl, your moans growing softer but needier, your grip on his hair tighter with every flick of his tongue. “Hee…” you whine, breathless.

He groans against you in response, like he could stay there forever, completely lost in you. His fingers are working you open, curling and thrusting in a rhythm that’s already overwhelming. His tongue moves with practiced precision, flicking and sucking at your clit until your thighs are trembling around his head. And then suddenly, his fingers slip out, replaced by both of his arms wrapping firmly around your waist, tugging you closer to his mouth. His hands slide up your body and cup your tits, squeezing gently at first, then harder when you moan. His thumbs brush over your nipples, sending jolts of heat straight through your core. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans between licks, his breath warm and ragged against you. “Could stay here all night, baby. You’re so sweet…so wet just for me.”

You let out a choked sound, high and breathy, your hands flying to cover his on your chest, needing to feel him, hold him, ground yourself. Your hips twitch helplessly as his mouth drags another moan from your lips. “So sensitive,” he mumbles, sucking your clit just right. “So fucking good for me. Can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

You whimper, eyes squeezed shut, fingers squeezing his tighter. “Please…Baby—don’t stop.” you whine. He moans against your cunt, sucking harder now, his fingers rolling your nipples as your body writhes beneath him, overwhelmed by the pleasure building like a storm. Your whole body’s trembling, thighs tightening around his head, your hips bucking up into his mouth without you even realizing. “Hee—” you whimper, breath hitching. “I’m—I’m cumming—”

Your hands clutch his over your chest, knuckles white, your back arching as your voice gets higher. “Fuck, that’s it,” he groans, voice muffled against your soaked cunt. “Cum for me, baby. All over my fucking mouth.” And you do. A broken, high-pitched moan escapes you as your release crashes through your body, your hips stuttering against his face, your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. He groans again at the feeling, his tongue still working you through it, drinking every last bit of it up like he needs it to live. Your thighs tremble around him, your whole body going warm and overstimulated, but he’s still kissing the inside of your thigh, murmuring softly, “That’s my good girl…”

He pulls back from between your thighs, lips shiny, eyes dark and hungry. Still catching your breath, you reach up with shaky arms and hook them behind his neck, tugging him down into a messy, desperate kiss. You moan softly into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. He groans into the kiss, hands sliding under you, one under your back, the other under your thighs, and lifts you like you weigh nothing. You gasp, arms tightening around his shoulders, your forehead resting against his. He carries you through the quiet of his room, the only sound your shallow breathing and the soft creak of the floor beneath his feet. His eyes stay locked on yours, so intense it makes your stomach flutter.

And when he reaches the edge of the bed, he lays you down gently, hands never leaving your body, and whispers, “You’re so perfect like this, princess…” He crawls over you slowly, eyes raking over every inch of your bare body, like he can’t believe you’re really here, like this, under him. His hands trail down your waist, squeezing gently before gliding to your hips, your thighs, your ass. He lowers his head to your neck, kissing and sucking softly, then down to your chest, lingering there, murmuring sweet nothings between kisses.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good.” he whispers against your skin, voice low and rough. You nod, already breathless, lips parting into a pout. “Please, baby…” you whine, fingers slipping through his hair, playing with it softly. His eyes flicker between yours as he pushes his sweatpants down, his voice low and breathless. “My sweet little girlfriend, yeah?” he murmurs, gaze heavy with want, but also something softer. You gasp, heart pounding, but you nod quickly, eagerly. “Yes, baby… please. Wanna be yours, Hee.” He groans under his breath, palming himself through his boxers. “Fuck…” Then he slips them off, his cock springing free once again. He positions himself between your thighs, stroking himself slowly as he looks down at you, completely bare and trembling beneath him. “All mine,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you again, “Gonna take care of you.”

He finds your hand beside your head and gently intertwines his fingers with yours, grounding you, holding you close. “Got you, baby.” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. Then he slowly starts to push inside, inch by inch, his breath stuttering. “God…you’re so tight, princess. Love this pretty pussy…” You whimper, brows furrowed as you cling to his hand, squeezing it tightly. The stretch burns a little, making you wince, your thighs trembling around his waist. He pauses, his free hand stroking your cheek, eyes locked with yours. “You okay?” he murmurs, voice laced with care. You nod shyly, breathless. “Y-Yeah… just go slow, baby.”

As he inches in the rest of the way, your mouth parts in a sharp gasp from the stretch, but before the sound can fully escape, Heeseung leans in and kisses you, swallowing the noise and grounding you with his lips. “Doing so good for me.” he murmurs against your mouth. He stays there, buried deep, holding still, giving you time, kissing your cheeks, your nose, the corner of your lips. You squeeze his hand tighter, chest rising and falling as you adjust to the size of him. “Y-You can move…Hee.” you whisper shyly, blinking up at him with watery eyes. He nods, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Okay, baby. I’ll be gentle.” And then he starts to move, slow and careful, dragging his hips back and rolling them forward again. He keeps holding your hand, his other brushing down your side. Every thrust melts the ache into something warmer, deeper, and you whimper softly beneath him, each sound making his heart clench. “That’s it,” he breathes, kissing your cheek as your lashes flutter. “Feels good now, doesn’t it?”

You nod quickly, lips parted, eyes fluttering open to meet his. “Mhm…feels so good…” Heeseung leans closer, voice rough and low in your ear. “Been thinking about you like this since the first time I saw you…” You gasp, your back arching at his words. “All wet and shy…wrapped around my cock like this.” His thrusts get slower, deeper, savoring every second. “Fuck, you feel like a dream, princess.” Your hands cling to his shoulders, lips brushing against his ear as you pant, your voice trembling but honest, too far gone to hold back now. “I touch myself to your voice…” you whisper, so shy but so desperate.“Every time you spoke, I’d get so wet.” You whine, tightening around him. “So wet for you, Hee… always.” His hips falter at the confession, breath catching in his throat. “Fuck, baby…” he groans, voice rough with desire, and then he thrusts harder, faster, trying to reach deeper just from your words alone.

“You’ve been mine this whole time, hm?” he breathes against your lips. “Getting off to my voice, fuck—dirty little thing.” You whimper, completely unraveling, and he’s loving every second of it. “Please, Hee…wanna ride you, please.” Your voice is all breathy and sweet. He groans low, twitching inside you, the tip of his cock nudging that spot that makes your thighs tremble. “Fuck…yeah, baby,” he breathes. “C’mere.” He pulls out gently, lays flat on the bed, eyes burning into yours as he guides you up. “Come ride your man.” You’re quick to move, desperate, aching. You straddle him with shaky thighs and grab his cock, lining him up and slowly sinking down, whining as he stretches you open again. Your hands splay on his abs for balance, your head falling back at the fullness. “So deep…” you breathe. “F-fuck, Heeseung…” He watches you like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered, his hands gripping your thighs, sliding up your waist, thumbs brushing under your breasts. “That’s it, baby… take what you need,” he says, voice low and full of want. “Look at you…riding me so good already.”

You start bouncing on him, slow at first, then faster, the wet sound of you taking him again and again filling the room, making his breath catch in his throat. Your head tilts to the side a little as soft, high-pitched moans spill from your lips, your eyes fluttering with every drag of him deep inside. “Holy shit…” Heeseung groans, eyes roaming all over you—your flushed skin, your bouncing tits, the way your stomach tightens every time you sink back down on him. His hands move up to your chest, squeezing your tits in his palms, thumbs brushing over your nipples just to hear you whine again. Then down, caressing the curve of your waist, trailing lower until they find your ass, gripping it hard, pulling you deeper on his cock, then suddenly landing a sharp slap to one cheek.

You gasp, a broken moan leaving your throat as your hips stutter. He smirks, rubbing the spot he slapped. “So fucking cute when you sound like that, princess.” Then his hands slide down your thighs, fingers dragging over the soft skin, admiring the way they tense as you keep moving. “Feel so good riding me, baby.” he says, voice breathless.

Your rhythm turns desperate, bouncing faster and harder as your hands cling to his abs, nails digging slightly into his skin. “Want you—so bad, Hee—need you,” you pant, voice high and breathless, “Need to be—under your skin…” He lets out a soft chuckle, the need in your voice making his cock twitch deep inside you. “God, baby,” he murmurs, his hand sliding down to rub tight, fast circles on your clit. “You’re so fucking needy…” You nod, crying out as his fingers work you harder, your thighs trembling. “Hee—Hee, I love you—love you so much—ahh!” His hips twitch beneath you, and he sits up just enough to pull you in for a kiss, messy and deep, all tongue and breath. “I love you too, princess,” he whispers against your lips, “I’ll always take care of you—my sweet, perfect baby.” You nod frantically, fingers tangling in his hair, overwhelmed with pleasure and emotion. “I’m gonna cum—gonna cum for you, Hee!”

“Cum for me, baby.” he groans, fingers still circling your clit as you crash into your orgasm, moaning loud, hips stuttering. He holds you through it, eyes fixed on your face, utterly in love. Then, with a low curse, he lifts you just enough to slide out of you, stroking himself fast and desperate before finishing all over your belly with a strangled moan, his hand trembling from the force of it. You both stay still for a moment, catching your breath, your skin warm and glowing, his cum sticky on you, his arms still wrapped around you as you sit on his lap. He’s pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your hips. “Was that okay?” he murmurs against your skin, voice low and hoarse. You nod slowly, leaning your head against his. “It was perfect.” He smiles, nuzzling your neck, “You’re perfect.”

After a moment, he shifts gently, reaching for a tissue from the nightstand and cleaning you up carefully, his touch tender, eyes always flickering up to check if you’re okay. You just watch him, dazed and dreamy and completely in love. He tosses the tissue aside and pulls you into his chest. You tuck yourself under his chin, your fingers playing softly with his hair. His heartbeat’s still a little fast. “I still can’t believe i did this to you.” he whispers. You smile against his skin. “I always wanted you to do it.” You lie there like that for a while, tangled up, warm and soft, only the sound of your breathing filling the room.

His hand finds yours again, fingers interlacing without thought. Then, very quietly, you murmur against his chest, “Want you to fuck me again, Heeseung.” He freezes. Blinks. Tilts his head to look at you, his eyes wide. “W-What? Now?” You look up at him innocently, smiling, eyes wide and full of mischief. “Mhm!” He groans, dragging a hand down his face as the tips of his ears turn bright red. “Princess…you’re gonna kill me.” You giggle, tugging at his hair and pulling him back down for a sweet kiss.

a/n: got lazy at the end. also left a sneaky easter egg whoever finds it gets a kiss :p idk how this got so long sry if it was annoying

© guliexe