pairings faerie!taehyun x reader, faerie!yeonjun x reader
warnings violence, death, death of animals, smut (specific tags will be listed before each chapter), childhood trauma & mentions of abuse, jealousy, controlling & yandere relationship dynamics, unprotected sex, original characters but they only last for small amounts of time & act as story catalysts, fem! reader
˒ ˒ want a look into the world? here’s the pinterest board !! ༘⋆
it’s a small world. you were aware of this, but you were made to really understand it when you ran into an old classmate at the grocery store on a snowy, cabin vacation. how strange is that? even more so when he shows up once more at the door of your cabin, frozen from the cold and needing your help.
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ㅤㅤ៶ㅤ ( 🗝️ ) ･ 6.9k
𝖕airings ˒ yandere!taehyun 𝑥 reader
ℊ ; smut ˒ thriller ˒ yandere
𝖜arnings ˒ dubcon, baby trapping, dark & yandere themes, taehyun has a warped view of the world, doggy, rough sex, mentions of breeding, stalking, he’s off-putting, possessiveness & jealousy… duh!, hard dom taehyun, nasty freaky stuff, he’s pretty icky, unprotected sex, brief mentions of no contraceptives, creampie, biting and hickeys, obsession, DDNE please read these and decide for yourself if you’re comfortable reading!
✎୭ ashlynn's note this one is a delicious gift from 🍵 anon!!! i’ve never gone this dark. IM KINDA NERVOUS. i really hope you like it!! please let me know if i miss any tags!
﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist
“Taehyun?”
The man turns around, brow pinched and eyes searching for who’d said his name. When those sharp, intelligent eyes land on you, familiarity passes over them. In the black, there’s a shine, and the shape of them softens into something else; something you’re more used to, on him.
“Hey,” he says. His arms are full of supplies and groceries. Knitting his strong brows together, he says, “What are you doing out here?”
You toss the chips you’d been grabbing before you noticed him into your cart. It falls with a crinkle down onto the mountain of other snacks just like it. You should probably pick up some real food, too. The others shouldn’t have made food your job. If it was up to you, the cabinets would be stuffed with an array of quick snacks. Cooking isn’t really your strong suit.
“I’m gonna spend a few nights at a cabin here with some friends. We wanted to find some snow, since it never snows back home,” you say, and then you laugh at the absurdity of finding someone from your hometown all the way out here. What are the odds of that? Especially since everybody graduated and scattered out into their own moving lives. “What are you doing out here?”
He reaches up to push his glasses up his nose, an easy smile on his lips. The sight of it brings back memories.
Taehyun and you had not been the closest in high school. You were in different crowds, and he kept to his own anyway. But the few times you two did interact, by some assigned group project or an incidental brief exchanging of words, he was nice enough.
He changed a lot, though. If someone were to ask you yesterday if you remember him from school, the image you would’ve imagined is at stark odds with the man standing in front of you now. Where the long, lanky limbs and unsure demeanor of a boy once was, there is now all the confidence of a man. The angles of him are sharper, more defined and chiseled. And, his shoulders… He’s gotten broader, too. The butterflies in your belly are strange; It’s strange feeling like this over a man you might not have looked twice at years ago. He wasn’t ugly by any means, back then. You just… had an eye for other things. Your palate was different. It’s like when they say that the popular crows peaks in high school, and it’s the ones you didn’t expect that are the ones that age well. Taehyun certainly did.
He answers, “Touché.” Stepping back, he lets another customer push their cart through the gap between you. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. What have you been up to? Back home for break? It seems like everybody from school moved on. It’s nice seeing someone from our class.”
It’s not an answer to your question, but the snow gear and thick jackets in his arms tell you enough. He’s seeking snow, too. Snow birding is really the only way that you might see snow, here. Snow really only ever comes to the mountain peaks. Speaking up over some storewide announcement that makes the bustle around you impossibly louder, you say, “Oh my god, right? That’s what I was just thinking.” You make your tone light—the kind of saturated sweetness that comes with small talk, all manufactured and stilted. It’s not necessarily awkward; you just are clumsy with this kind of conversation. You just ramble to fill the space. “I… Just have been working. Never went to school. Did I tell you that you look good? What have you been up to?”
For a moment, you think you see a glimpse of something… strange pass over his eyes. Something that makes you feel weird—one of those hair-rising feelings that you cannot explain, but feel innately to your core. A primal hunger being fed, a twitching of his lips, as though vindicated. It’s gone in nothing more than a blink of an eye, and barely even was there in the first place. You’ve got a mushy brain from driving all day, anyway. What a strange thing for your mind to make up, though.
“Nothing much. Work for me, too,” he says, shrugging. “Finally got the chance to get away from it, and decided to come out here.”
Another shopper comes shoving themselves between you. Clearly, your catching up is an obstruction on their very important, very urgent shopping trip. Taking the hint, you tell Taehyun, “I get it, believe me. But…” You gesture at your groceries. “I’ve gotta finish up shopping before everybody gets here. It was nice seeing you! I wish I could linger, really.”
He offers you an easy smile, letting his crossed arms fall away from his chest and shaking his head. “No big deal. I’ve got some stuff to pick up, too. Have a nice one, yeah? Don’t get caught in the blizzard, or anything.”
Snorting, you dip your head goodbye and say, “I’ll try not to.”
❅
The hardwood floors creak beneath your flustered pacing. “Are you serious? How long is it gonna be?”
“I’m sorry? I didn’t expect someone to slash our fucking tires?” Your friend’s voice cuts in and out through the speakers, one of the few hollow sounds in the cabin. Aside from you and the decor, it’s empty. “I’m sorry that you’re stuck out there, but there’s nothing we can do. You’re going to have to wait it out for a few days. At least until we can get there.”
Gritting your teeth, you give her a tactful Okay, bye, and thumb the big red button. The sound of the call ending echoes, too. Curling your arms around yourself, the whole place feels big and haunting. The howling of whipping wind and snow against the windows doesn’t help.
Someone had slashed their tires, and now you’re going to be here alone. For days. If being alone wasn’t already making knots of your belly, that was. It’s startling: going out of your way to slash someone's tires, but making no attempts at stealing the car or anything in it. Either it’s personal, or somebody just wanted to ruin somebody else’s day. Both leave a sour taste in your mouth.
Your every limb goes rigid at a thump, and in the corner of your eye, there’s movement. When you whip your head to look fully in that direction, all that moves in the window is snow like haze and the trees bending in the same violent wind. Nothing but night and the storm.
Beside yourself, you inch toward the window to look closer. Tugging a thick, willowy curtain to one side, you do a scan.
Sat in the snow, dusting over with heavy white flakes as you look, are a pair of glasses. You are not stupid enough to go out and get a closer look.
❅
With the fireplace roaring, the place doesn’t feel so empty.
You waited all day for the snow to stop coming down so hard. If you’re going to be alone here for days, you want to go out and spend the daylight away around other people.
Really, you just don’t want to be in this cabin all by yourself. You have a bad feeling. It;s unfounded, maybe. But you do.
The snow does not stop falling, and the wind does not stop blowing it into thick piles. It’s everywhere: the whole entire yard is coating thick with it, and so is your car. Could you even drive away in this, if you needed to? Maybe after thirty minutes of plowing snow. You’ve at least kicked enough of it away from the porch to open the door.
At some point, hope for doing anything but toiling around in here dwindled away. With what embers of excitement for vacation you have left, you tugged on some knitted socks and played Christmas classics off your phone.
You’re still playing them as you decide to cook something up. You’re not the best cook, but what do you have to lose? It’ll only be you eating it. If it goes awry, you’ve still got snacks to make into a meal.
The kitchen comes alive while you work. You tug out all the pots and pans that the cabin owners provide, clicking the stove on while you dance and hum along to the songs that you’d seemingly come out of the womb knowing. Pulling the fridge open to the song of Silver Bells, you decide on something ambitious and set ingredients out over the counters.
You don’t even get to slicing before there’s a knock at the door. Three very solid, very resounding knocks. The knife makes a clattering sound as you let it drop to the cutting board.
There shouldn’t be anybody out here. Maybe your friends got the car up and running, and forgot to let you know. Your heart thrums wildly as you swipe your phone up to shoot a quick text.
At the top of the screen, a text comes in from an unknown number. It stops you. Your belly does a frantic swoop, a thousand different thoughts swarming and shoving to be the one at the forefront of your mind.
+1 [678-999-8212]
Hey, it’s Taehyun.
+1 [678-999-8212]
I’m sorry if this is weird, but I’m the one who just knocked at your door. I wanted to hike up to my cabin but I’m lost as hell right now, and recognized your car outside
+1 [678-999-8212]
Thought it would be better to ask you for help instead of a random.
You take a moment to blink at the glow of the screen. Taehyun was the one knocking on your door? That both settles you and kicks up more questions. What are the odds that you both rented out cabins from the same people? The world is small; you’re reminded that a lot, these days.
Sliding your phone into your back pocket, you head for the door. He’s got to be freezing. It’s coming down hard out there.
The door swings open to Taehyun’s face just as frost-glazed as you expected. His jaw chatters and his nose and cheeks are a deep, winter-pink. Despite it, his mouth pulls into a friendly smile—the kind that illustrates in the humorous corners that he is aware of the absurdity of his situation, as well. He keeps his hands tucked into his pockets, a thick winter jacket zipped up to the top dusted at the shoulders with fat snowflakes just the same as on top of his coal-black hair.
“Oh my god,” you say. A laugh seeps through the cracks. “I’ve got the fireplace going hot. Do you wanna come in? How long have you been out there?” Stepping to one side, you offer him entry into your home. Temporary home, that is.
He tries to rein in the shivers, you can see it in the smile he’s got plastered on his face and the way he buzzes and trembles around the edges like the bitter cold is trying to push against his skin and escape him. “If it doesn’t bother you,” he says, stepping in past you. When he passes, thick in the air, he smells like smoke and the dark woods—it’s musky and familiar, but also haunting in the way that the wilder edges of a forest could be.
He smells nice. Really nice. The kind of blend of manly musk and cologne that makes a woman look twice. It makes you look twice as he passes, at least.
Him standing there now, eyes roving over the cabin’s wood walls and the knitted gaze and the fire whispering from the living room, you realize how strange it is to be here with an old classmate that you haven’t seen for at least three years. How awkward it is.
“It doesn’t bother me at all. You did scare me a bit, though,” you say, shooing the wispy chill away with a close of the door. “I’d rather you not freeze to death out there. It’s, like, ten degrees.” You tuck your arms across your chest. “What made you go hiking in this? It’s been nasty today. I haven’t even been able to leave.”
His cheek twitches with a dimple. Even back in school, you noticed that. Then, it’d fit right into his face. Now, it’s a delicious contrast against his angled face. “Sorry I scared you. I knew it’d be weird, but… Yeah, I was freezing out there. I seriously thought I was going to die.” Hair brushes over his eyes, their cunning and sharpness something that draws you in. Like two black pools of eerily still water, they beckon you in a way that you can’t quite digest. “It wasn’t too bad down by the car, and I didn’t know there was a whole damn trail up here, so I… yeah. It got bad.”
Snorting, you nod. “I bet.” You’re not sure what else to say; your mind freezes over in an impermeable frost. You tap around with a pick to try and find words, but there’s no getting through it. You hardly know him. What do you talk about? What are you going to talk about, considering the fact that he’s no doubt going to be here for some time? Until it stops blizzarding so hard outside, at least.
Charging through the tense moment with a brassiness that you do not remember him carrying back then, Taehyun nods a gesture toward the kitchen and the dinner you’d been in the middle of making. “Making something?” he says. The low, warm light of the cabin washes over him and make his face something cozier than it’d been standing frozen at your front door. It also makes a show of the angles of his cheek as it turns, and the tall line of his nose. Something on him is missing. You can’t capture the notion or put your finger on it, but somewhere in the depths of memory, you feel like there was something there that isn’t here with him now. Maybe it’s a different styling of his hair from the last time you saw him, wind-swept as it is now. Or maybe you’re just stir-crazy.
“Yeah.” You nod, watching in place as he ventures into the kitchen. Narrowing your eyes down, you try to pinpoint the thought. Is it something small? A pair of earrings? “I was gonna cook up something warm for dinner, but I’m not the best cook. I don’t burn anything, but… it’s never great, you know?”
Taehyun tugs his jacket off his arms, and you confirm that it’s not a certain jacket or something. “I’ll help,” he says, discarding the heavy thing. “Make myself useful.”
“Oh!” you say, bringing your hands together in realization. “Are you not wearing your glasses? Holy shit, I’ve been staring at you thinking something was wrong, but I couldn’t tell what it was.”
He furrows his brows, corners of his mouth twitching. The look passes over his face in nothing more than a split-second, before something else plasters over it. He crinkles his nose and says, “Huh. I didn’t even notice…” The knife you’d left to let him in glints as he picks it up to assume where you’d left off. “Didn’t you say that you were here with some friends? Is everybody asleep already?”
You trace the lines of his face where those brown glasses had rested the last time you’d seen him. He must’ve forgotten them in his cabin this morning, or something, before he went out. You grab a pot and fill it over the sink for noodles. “Actually, they all got caught up back home. It’s literally just me here for days. I’ve been so bored.” Over your shoulder, you add, “I’m just making some fettuccine and chicken.”
“Caught up?” he says, voice casual and occupied. The sound of the knife against the cutting board as he slices follow his words.
“Yeah. Someone messed their car up bad… Like, knife to the tires and the windows were smashed in all over the seats. It was fucking terrifying.” Clicking the stove on, you set the pot to boil.
Taehyun doesn’t answer for a few minutes. You look over your shoulder and find him working in the chicken still. He answers, his eyes dragging up to you for a quick moment before making sure he doesn’t cut a finger off, “Did they steal anything?”
Turning to him fully as you wait for the water to bubble and turn over, you say, “That’s the weird thing. They didn’t steal or anything, they just fucked it up and… left.”
“Huh,” he says, furrowing his strong brow down at his working hands. “Yeah, that’s weird. That’s some personal shit. Maybe someone had a shit day.” The end comes out around a breathy laugh.
“Yeah, maybe.” You crack open the cardboard flaps and pour the noodles into the pot. “Still… scary.”
Taehyun takes over the cooking, and you’re happy to entrust dinner to him. He works diligently, and the sight of his back as he stirs and chops and seasons—it’s mouth-watering. This way, you can fully admire him as he does. You’re not much help, anyway. Instead, you just start the gentle hum of Christmas music once more and stay out of his way.
It’s nice to have somebody here. The howling of the wind and the echoing of your own movements back to you has started to become haunting. Maybe having Taehyun here is a bit unconventional, and it really should be your friends here with you, but having him here is the better outcome than some creep being the one knocking at your door. It’s nice to have him here in case that does happen, too.
It’s not like he’s bad company, or anything, either.
When the entirety of the cabin is full with the smell of warm dinner and your conversation, you swoop back in to offer help with something you can manage. Stepping beside him, indulging in his rich scent once more, you plate the dinner he’d made for you. Steam dances up from it and beckons your tastebuds. “You’re, like, a Michelin chef. What the hell? Thank you.”
He doesn’t answer, and in the corner of your eye, you catch his knuckles going white around the counter’s edge where he leans his weight into the arm. Frowning, you go to look up at him.
It leaves his face when you catch it, but you find him looking down at you… different again. Darker, as though the pupils at the center have grown hungry and eaten up the chocolate there. You think you see his jaw tightening and a hard swallow bobbing in his throat, too. His face is so close like this, you can see the plush turn to his lips and the darkness beneath his eyes, and even the chap of his lips.
Flustering, you take a step back and do your work there. You’d stepped way too close to him. Does he think you’re weird? You’ve always been the type with a scarce personal bubble; you forget that others don’t work the same.
“It’s nothing much,” he finally says. It’s cool and collected once more. “I make this all the time. It’s one of my favorites.”
Handing him his plateful, the chicken glistening with glaze and the noodles a swirl of cream and garnish, you say, “You’ll have to write down the recipe for me, or something. I totally want to make it for myself.”
Accepting it with another easy grin, he says, “Yeah, sure.” He forks a bit of chicken off the plate.
The smile does not reach his eyes.
❅
The longer you look at it, the worse the feeling gets. Black and scrawled in wobbling lines, jagged and dark in places where he’d gone over a line a few times, you just… feel like you’ve seen it all before. It’s a smokey, tainted memory, far-off and obscured no matter how you squint your eyes.
Why do you remember it? Why does the sight of it crawl like dread under your skin and wilt? Sure, you went to school with Taehyun, but you don’t really think recognizing his handwriting should feel like this. Who even pays attention to the handwriting of somebody you interacted with once or twice, anyway?
God. You are dramatic. You kick your legs out of the comforter, swelteringly thick and quilted with a gaudy winter pattern of reds and browns and whites, and fold up the paper to place it on the darkwood bedside table.
The click of you flicking the white switch on echoes off the bathroom’s tiled walls. You reach for your toothbrush on the counter, and then the world goes dark around you.
You freeze, eyes frantically blinking and straining against the blackness to adjust. The power’s gone out. There’s a few beats where you stand stricken in place, toothbrush in hand, thrown for a loop.
The rest of the cabin goes out with a thunk as the power to the heater dies, too. You swear. Of course—if the lights are out, the heating system goes too.
Your journey down the hallway is a stumbling of legs and the grooves of the wood-paneled walls against your fingertips. It’s the pitch black of night out here, too. The only thing you can see is the static that fills up the gaps when it’s dark. “Taehyun?” you try. Is he asleep already? You don’t even know where the room he’d taken for the night is, relative to where you are now.
Nothing answers you for a few moments, and then from an opening door, light floods like a miracle. The shape of him, the light from his phone’s flashlight just enough to dimly illuminate his features, comforts you. His hair is ruffled, like he’d just drug himself from bed.
“Power went out,” he says. It’s awfully loud, now that you two are the only sounds in here.
“Yeah, it just gave me a heart attack. I was up brushing my teeth.” Why hadn’t you thought to use your phone’s light? “The heater… Do you think they have a generator, or something? The fireplace doesn’t really do much…”
He features glow in as he moves the phone. “Probably. It’s fine, my room’s got a fireplace in it for now. We can close the door and get it warm in there.”
It’s better than nothing, you suppose. The floorboards are creakier underfoot than you remember them being, courtesy of the dead silence fallen over the little old cabin.
You climb into the bed, the surface even the knitted blankets cold and plush, while he works on kindling a fire. “This is so far from where I thought I’d be when I booked this place.” Sad joke, that’s for sure. You deliver it with a dry humor, because at this point it’s even a little funny. When it rains, it pours, you guess.
He readjusts the logs, dry and perfect for burning, into a point. Poking and prodding, Taehyun hums distractedly, “Not having fun?” He has a way of asking you things with perfect disinterest as if he cares more about the answer than he lets on.
You snort at the dry and flat delivery. “Friends haven’t even gotten back to me, I’m snowed in, and I’m locked in here with a total stranger.” You draw out the last word as a joke, your smile painting the tone playful, but it’s the truth. You don’t know Taehyun one bit. It’s just as strange and unpredictable as the other things on the list of things that have gone awry. “I guess I had a good dinner, so I can’t be complaining too much.”
Curling up to his full height, he takes a knee and settles into the bed beside you. “Make some room for this stranger, won’t you? We should probably try to use our body heat.” All of his jokes, as charismatic as he was earlier, sound off-kilter now.
Laughing, you go to say something that riffs off his joke. It dies in your throat when he doesn’t join you. In an awkward sort of panic, you wince and say, “Yeah, it’s freezing. We’re gonna die in our sleep, seriously…” For the past free days, you’ve had plenty of time to imagine how you might die some slasher-esque death out here. An intruder, monsters from the forest, bears… You didn’t imagine it would be the cold that would be getting you. Lame.
Ridiculously, you crawl under the covers. You don’t know why you do; maybe it’s the way he’s completely serious about it and watching you with expectation hanging under his eyes like shadows, or maybe because it’s true that you might actually get so cold in your sleep that you die if you don’t. Either way, you do. You don’t know which way to settle: facing him or with your back turned to him. Both are strange, but which is stranger?
Facing him, you decide that turning your back to him just doesn’t settle in your soul right.
“Weird night,” he agrees, sliding himself under the blanket’s covering. The same blanket that you lay in. “But…” he says, eyes flickering over you laid there. He looks as though he’s going to say something else, but he decides against it. “Sleep good.”
He does you a favor and turns his back to you.
❅
Night still holds the world in its claws when your eyes flutter open.
You shift to try and find that perfect position that’ll lull you back into sleep, slipping your legs over the sheets and shifting your cheek against your arm and wiggling your hips against the solid pressure behind you.
The pressure behind you. Stilling, your eyes fly open.
The weight of Taehyun behind you, his chest rising and falling, and the warmth of him, pierce through sleep’s haze like a white-hot knife. You’re all the way on his side of the bed, pressing your bottom into him. Shame creeps its wicked way from your chest and then out through your skin, blazing the skin of your cheeks. You push up on an elbow to scoot back to your side of the bed as slow and covertly as you can manage.
Fingers like teeth, biting the skin of your waist, stop you. Your heart jumps.
“Don’t move.” Taehyun’s breath and words curl out over the juncture of your neck like a chill. He lets you sit in the heaviness of the moment for a moment, your heart thumping against your ribs like a frightened bird in a cage, before he says, “It’s weird. Weird that when I suggested you sleep in my bed, you looked so nervous. But, look where you are now.”
Your voice comes out strangled. “I’m sorry.”
When his palm slides down from your waist to brush over your belly, you begin to think that it’s not an apology that he wants. Your stomach does untamed dips and rolls. It’d been the cold that you were afraid of, but now it’s the blistering heat that blooms where his touch goes that grips you.
“That didn’t take very long.” Like a trail of growing, raging fire, he takes that hand and brings it down the lengths of your body. Over your hip, and then down the supple curve of your ass, and then down the back of your thighs, where he toys with the notion of slipping it between the seam there. “It never did take much for you to give those men your body. Give them what was mine. Don’t worry, I’ll make it right. I’ll make you right.”
Your mind turns over itself, a thousand stray, blinding thoughts bursting at the seams and all asking for your attention. You don’t know which to start with; you don’t have the slightest clue what he means. Asking any of them out loud seems absurd, and the notion crumbles to dust when he brings his arm down your front to cup your heat.
“Face in the bed, ass up.” He commands it in your ear like ice: absolute and biting. “It’s how you like it, isn’t it?”
Doggy is how you like it. You don’t know how Taehyun would know that. What you do know, though, is the way the simple words kindle hungry fire in your cunt. Dragging yourself from the heat of the mattress in a bleary, glazed-over mess of limbs, you paint yourself into an obscene picture: your cheek presses into the mattress, blazing with disbelief, your eyes wide and gone and the mess of your hair obscuring them, and your back the delicate arch of sex and sinfulness as you display your ass high in the air for him.
When you look at him to see how he likes it, you don’t find the man that you saw in the grocery store, nor the man that you let into your cabin. The look you find, vacant and overflowing with an untamed hunger, raises the hair on your skin. It’s off.
“Taehyun,” you say. It’s really just to speak—you don’t have words.
He runs a hand down the curve of your back. His voice comes from behind you, now. “This should’ve been just mine. But you never did look my way, did you?” Your body jumps when his hands find your hips and the fabric in the way of your skin there. Hooking his thumbs under both the waistband of your bottoms and your panties, he drags them down your thighs in a slow crawl. Each inch of blazing skin bared to the air tingles against the cold and under his gaze as you feel his eyes eat it up.
That’s what his eyes do: they eat and they eat, taking up the space around them like ever-hungry blackholes until there is nothing but their absence of light and their heaviness. That was the pull you remember in the store—a force like gravity beckoning a perverse finger at you and leaving you nowhere to go but toward him.
He pulls the fabric until it’s bunched at your knees. Prodding a finger, just the very end of it, at your hole. Your body flutters at the crumbs, belly turning. “Why didn’t you look my way?” he asks, not looking you in the face as he does. Like he’s wrapped up in old anger and vindication. Like it still bugs him to his core, so much so that it rotted him out. The rustling of him working on his pants has you twitching and shifting hot against the covers.
“I don’t know what you mean.” You’re only able to choke out the words, heart jumping up into your throat as he takes his hand up your back, pins and needles following his path and pushes your head into the mattress by the back of the neck.
Breath hot over your cheek, he says, “Is this what you want? To be fucked like an animal?” You know he means the position, you with your face in the pillows and ass in the air without the decency of eye contact or the intimacy of brushing chests. Your mouth goes dry. “You’re better than that. But, if it’s what you like, I’ll fuck you like it.”
You have a thought. It’s fleeting and fuzzy like the rest of your mind, but you catch it just long enough to turn it over once. When you’d seen Taehyun, you were struck by how much more he now looked like the kind of guy you might go after than the lanky, off-putting boy he used to be, and how he’s set on how you like to get fucked. Like he catalogued what you liked and became it. You out that from your head—nonsensical, considering the fact that you’d interacted a handful of times and that there’s no logical way him saying doggy was your favorite aas anything more than coincidence. You think. You hope. Because the other option was horrifying.
The tip of his cock at your entrance sends the thought to smoke and the aftermath clogs your cognitive function. Your mouth falls open as he presses some inches in, slow and enriching. But then he pulls the slight length out to collect some slick and tap his cockhead to your clit. You jolt against the sheets.
When he slides back in this time, he makes sure to brush your hair out of your face to watch every last inch of you taking him reflected in the furrowing of your brows and the glassiness of your eyes and the pink of your cheeks.
He stills when he reaches the hilt, his hips flush to your ass, his shadow falling over you as he leans to bring his ear to your mouth. “You should’ve looked my way. Things could’ve been so different. It’s okay—I’ll make you realize. I know who you really are. I’ll wash this all away and clean you up and make you good again.”
He doesn’t leave space for words or thought. Not enough for you to taste the rust like rot over his iron words. Planting his heels on the bed and shoving your face further into the bed, he starts his hips in a rhythm that has your breaths stuttering and achy wines clawing out from the prison of your chest. He does not move precisely, nor is the bucking of his hips pointed, but it’s a crashing sort of ruin. It doesn’t matter if he finds that spot inside of you. He’s going to consume your every sense: he steals the taste in your mouth and replaces it with himself, steals your hearing with his pants and grunts, steals your sight as his cock twists your insides up, and steals your ability to feel anything but him. He steals your breath, too. Just as a wicked little souvenir.
“Hhh—fuck, Taehyun, holy shit,” you say. A procession of crude and mewled cries come tumbling out your mouth after your words. No matter now you filter your sounds to try and maintain your decency, he just drags them from you anyway.
Bringing his hand up to splay his hand over the entirety of the back of your head rather than the delicate back of your neck, he grits out, “Filthy mouth.” He punctuates the words with the hollow smack of his skin against your ass. It’s the sound of sex incarnate—your ears burn just hearing it clashing against the rest of your debased sounds. “And it’s just for me, now. Isn’t that fucking great? None of those pigs are gonna touch what’s mine again. Not after this. You—” His voice tightens when a certain spot he nudges in your cunt sends it clinging to him and sucking him back in at every return. “You were really testing the limits to my patience. Do you know that?” He drags his hand over your face, smearing obscenity over you with just his tainted touch. “Of course you fucking don’t. You don’t notice shit. It’s why you let the world walk all over you. It’s why you need me.”
As hard and fast as he fucks you, he doesn’t exchange full strokes for it. He pulls completely out of you each time he snaps his hips back, and then meets your ass in burning collisions when he slips his cock right back into you. You struggle for breath, trying to feed your oxygen-starved brain to contend with his snarled preaching. Never once do you catch a full chest of air, though. It turns your thoughts liquid, stupid and simple. “Taehyun—Taehyun,” you say, throat tight. The sheets are stifling against your clammy skin, and the hair around your neck is damp. You take fistfuls of the bunches fabric and his other hand on your hip to ground yourself.
You are beyond grounding. All that floats in your head, one bare thought, is the beginnings of terrifying tightness in your lower belly. Only the sharpest things shove through the shadow permeating your mind. Nip. Bite. He drags his teeth over the soft curves of your shoulders and the expanse of your back. Anywhere he can reach, really. His mouth paints you in aching splotches—the kind that will speak of him should anybody other see your body. The kind that speaks already of who they belong to. You eyes and throat burn.
Taehyun brings that hand he’d been molding into the fat of your hip and curls the muscle-corder forearm across both of your hip bones. A bar. A cage. His solid chest works similarly as he blankets himself over you, speaking into your wild tousle of hair. “Fuck–Gonna cum now.” The friction of his cock against your walls becomes something more unpredictable. The tightening of that knot, just on the verge of a snap that might reverberate through you and crush you into nothing more than bitten flesh and eroded virtue, sits on the horizon. It’s a terrifying thing to be rushing toward. “A—and then they’ll realize that you’re mine. They’ll never put their goddamn hands on you again. Not when your body will have me written all over it.” You can hear the tightness of his gritted jaw, the words seething like black, festering corruption. They fall over your skin and taint you, too. No longer do you shake and tremble against him with innocent little squeaks. Gilt with his words as he speaks them, your body stiffens and your cries go hoarse and pitiful. You try not to think about how you sound. “Isn’t it so fucking good? We’re perfect together. You’re perfect for me. Do you know how many—how many times I fucked my fist thinking about you like this? All I ever wanted was for you to realize that we are so much better than the rest of them. It’s always meant to be us. Why did you let them touch you? Ruin your perfect skin?”
All you manage is a heaved cry. He pins you to the mattress and begins fucking you into it. In the black of your eyelids, you watch purity go to dust.
“Take my load. Stay still,” he says. His voice goes soft, somewhere near a whisper. Like he’s gotten everything he’s wanted, now.
You squirm beneath the weight of him, hips reining against the arm he holds you there by the hips with. Alarm bells ring, booming and thunderous, but in this state of mind, they sound like the music of climax. To the beat of the bells and his hips, blazing through your reddened bottom and your utter inability to breathe, you go tumbling toward that terrifying release.
Taehyun’s steadfast pace stutters. “It’s okay,” he tells you, clearing your clammy face of hair once more. His face is right in yours, his eyes heavy and consumptive. “Just let it happen. I’m gonna breed you up, and then it’ll be forever. We’ll be forever. Can’t let you get away again. Not when I’ve got you now. I need you to take it. Can you do that for me?”
Managing one last mhm, all your sounds catch in your throat. You stop meeting halfway, muscles twisting and turning and raging against the profound, terrible wash of it. Eyes flying open, your cunt clings to him, insides fluttering and rippling in a way that begins delightfully, but toes the line of dreadful as his cock continues to tighten them further. Lightning strikes from your core, crawling and crackling from it. It moves your thighs, convulsing them in tandem with the same release wreaking havoc in your stomach.
Cursing low in your ear, he fucks you frantically, fingers planted on your hips. His cock twitches against you a few times, and then the arm he’s supporting himself on collapses down to the elbow and he’s pinning you and shooting white-hot cum right into you. Your shoulder takes the imprint of his cheek as he nips the shoulder he hangs over. His hips twitch, rolling to ride out his high with deep, chesty groans, and then jumping up to spurt a little bit more into you. His panted breaths fall against your skin like fire.
You blink bleariness away from your eyes. For a few long minutes, that’s all you do. Your chest races so much so that you feel the pulse in your neck and the thumping of it where it rests. Your insides are liquid and intangible, blood slow just as slow as your thoughts.
When reality seeps back through your veins, though, Taehyun’s tugging his chest from your sweaty meeting of bodies. His fingers dig right into the reddened skin where his hips had abused your bottom to hold you open. To view you and the drip of his seed from your body.
The sensation has you swallowing hard. Holy shit, you are stupid. So painfully stupid. So, you’re just letting men cum inside while you’re not on birth control, now? Ones that you haven’t seen since school? Ones that talk like… that?
Tapping your thigh and pressing a hot kiss to your outer hip, Taehyun says, “I’m gonna go check the breakers. You take it easy here for a second.”
Whiplashed, you nod. There goes that pristine, normal mask again. You watch him go, heaving yourself up from the nasty bedding to be greeted by the musk of sex humid in the air. You think a thousand little thoughts, watching the wall as you go far away in your mind.
Everything that he said… That was not just a little weird, or a little kinky. It was bone-chilling. The taste in your mouth, still tainted by him, sours.
You pull out your phone. Pressing it to your ear, your blood runs sluggish still with each ring of the outbound call.
The cabin owner’s voice comes staticky through the speakers, asking you what you need help with. You ask about the power outage and where the breaker might be, debriefing him on Taehyun ending up here because he wasn’t able to make it to his own cabin, and how you think that the storm outside might be why the power’s gone out.
The cabin owner’s answer makes you pale.
It’s not a crashing realization. Not a thundering storm reaching its climax, nor a firework plasma and explosive at its center but flashy as it sparkles, nor a searing knife to the gut. It’s a slow, dreadful feeling, sinking to the depths of the ocean with a weight around your ankle and the realization that there is no getting back to the surface. It is drowning with water in your lungs, knowing that you swallowed that water down.
You know why you recognize that hand writing, and you know why Taehyun was missing his glasses, and you know why he had your number even though you have no connections, and you know why he was able to find your cabin by your car despite never having seen it, and you know why your friends never made it here. He, long and spindly legged, the spider, did not even panic when you grazed by the hints toward what he really was. You were all ready in his web, anyway. All he had to do was wait it out and watch you, caught, oblivious, squirm. And, squirm you did.
“What other cabin?”
﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist
✎୭ ashlynn's note AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! i’m sorry this one came out later, i had to make that ending tie up well.
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coming from someone who has been struggling to focus reading as of late, I found myself absorbed in your prose and hanging onto your sentences line after line. (an achievement because ive been skimming works sm im ashamed to say i actually read any of them properly unless i’ve reblogged or reviewed it.)
I thought of dming you as i read but i wanted to focus on just reading without switching apps or typing away mid paragraph. i giggled at the line where you said i wouldn’t have looked at him twice before, I absolutely wouldddddd mama.
my goal initially was to start tsfawc, (i know ur sick of me saying this but im trying ;;;;;;) but this was equally satisfying and thrilling to read.
It was horrifying, eerie most of the times, the mood of the text would shift from good and well with that constant underlying feeling that something very bad is abt to happen (pun unintended).
you built this up beautifully and i found myself in constant admiration of your lexicon like it was just so ughhhhh healjckwj dhkqjdlqjdj dhqkuxoqjdn hskqndkwjdj, yeah.
completely got floored when i got to the scene about the tires, the cabin, the snow, the slow isolation of mc from her friends (where do i find a man like him?) and that he knew all the details of her preferences. it gives me a lot to think about whether he had talked to the man she’d been with, are they okay? are they alive?
so many memorable scenes and dialogues that made my my imagination race. #fuck it’s genius. i rlly liked the line she said abt him being a michelin chef, just the arrangement of words was heart eyes heart eyes, i think i just like the way all those dialogues came out. the ones where they’re in bed too and knowing that he wasn’t asking.
haunting, vivid, poignant 🫰saranggae and happy pride, ash!! thank you for this mesmerizing tale, i told my chingus i was reading this art book (which i am) but i took a break to read smut (typical me… ah)
edited: because i forgot to mention the playlist. angel playing was so fucking sick of you. it was eerie and dark and scary and i was trembling in my boots, fuck you. and then every breath you take started playing and i was like nooo this is such a happy song but you positioned it so purposefully. i just became utterly speechless upon realization
Your heart and mind seek him for reasons no words could describe — an irony not lost on you, a writer, a weaver of words. And yet, when it comes to him, even you fail to stitch together the language to explain his existence in your life.
⊹₊ wc; 17.6k
Nobleman!Choi Beomgyu x Noblewoman!afab!reader
chapter tags: inspired by regency era but not entirely accurate elements, heavy slowburn, reader faces misogyny, mutual pining, yearning, use of original characters
i hold this story, the characters, and the world close to my heart. the amount of joy this writing it has brought me in immeasurable. i hope you love it as much as love i've poured into creating it.
Story ml .☘︎ ݁˖ Next chapter
"Your eyes," Lord Kim mused, swirling the wine in his glass as he leaned forward slightly. "Light brown yet sharp—like honey edged with steel. Quite a rare beauty."
A polite, nearly derisive chuckle escaped you as you lifted your teacup to your lips, the porcelain brushing against your smile. You neither confirmed nor denied his words, merely letting the silence stretch between you, knowing full well how such men loathed being left without acknowledgment.
You were the eldest daughter of a noble family—sharp of mind, elegant in manner, poised in every regard. Yet beneath the carefully painted smiles and effortless charm, there was a deadly wit that cut deeper than any blade. An aspiring writer, a woman with ambitions deemed unseemly by the very society that entertained itself with whispers of your supposed impropriety. They smiled at you in ballrooms and parlors, exchanging pleasantries with feigned warmth, only to turn and condemn you the moment your back was turned. Well, not all, but still many.
Not that it ever stopped you. If anything, you found a thrill in it—the way masked conversations at masquerade balls and polished words at grand gatherings became your battlefield. Insults were merely invitations to play, and you had long since mastered the game. Funnily enough, for all your wit and defiance, the parade of suitors never ceased. Each day brought a new gentleman, another hopeful fool eager to claim your hand in marriage. But you knew better. You had always known better. Their interest was not in you but in what you could offer—your father’s wealth, your family’s status. And so, you did as any well-educated woman would.
You rejected them. With grace, your words wrapped in silk, but with finality all the same. And as Lord Kim awaited a reply, his expression expectant, you merely lowered your cup and offered him a smile that did not reach your eyes.
"My lord, how very poetic of you."
His lips curled into what he likely assumed was a charming smile, confidence glinting in his pale grey eyes. “A rare beauty indeed, and one that any man would be fortunate to—”
“Acquire?” you finished smoothly, tilting your head as if in contemplation. “Forgive me, my lord, but you speak as though I were some coveted artifact in a collector’s cabinet.”
The words were spoken lightly as they spilled from your rosy lips, almost sweetly matching your saccharine smile, yet they sliced the air like a sharp knife. His mouth opened, then shut, like a gaping fish as his pathetically composed charm wavered. Then, the faintest pink dusted his cheeks—not of flattery, but of embarrassment.
“Hardly, my lady,” he recovered, his chuckle laced with forced ease. “Though I must confess, I do find you endlessly fascinating. Your mind, your wit—it is rare for a woman to possess such sharpness.”
“Ah,” you mused, tapping a finger lightly against the rim of your teacup. “And here I thought my value rested solely in my rare light brown eyes. How reassuring to know that my mind is tolerable as well.”
His chuckle faltered, but he pressed on, leaning forward as if to close the space between you over the table. “You wound me, Lady Kang. I only meant to admire you. I do believe we would make quite the pair, you and I.”
A beat of silence passed before you let out a soft hum of amusement. Setting your cup down with an elegant clink, you met his gaze with a sharp glint flashing in your honeyed orbs—something that made his confidence topple over.
“My lord, I have found that men often mistake admiration for possession, much like one might marvel at a wild bird before placing it in a gilded cage.” You lifted a brow. “And as lovely as that sentiment may sound, I fear I was not meant to be caged.”
His lips parted, a retort surely forming on his tongue, but you rose to your feet before he could voice it. You smoothed a hand over the silk of your gown, the deep emerald fabric catching the warm glow of the chandelier above.
“I do hope the tea was to your liking, my lord. I find it particularly suited for washing down words that turn bitter upon the tongue.”
His jaw tightened ever so slightly, but you did not stay to witness his floundering attempt at recovery. With a graceful dip of your head, you turned and left the drawing room, the train of your gown trailing behind you like the final stroke of an artist’s brush upon a masterpiece.
Beyond the doors, the evening air was crisp, the scent of distant rain clinging to the breeze. A wry smile ghosted your lips. Another suitor bested. Another conversation played like a well-written scene.
And tomorrow, without fail, another would take his place.
The following morning, aside from Maya’s ever-loyal presence, your only companions were the steady rhythm of carriages rattling over cobblestones, the occasional clip-clop of hooves punctuating the crisp morning air, and the thin mist curling at the edges of shopfronts. The scent of fresh bread and damp earth lingered in the breeze, a fleeting reminder of last night’s rain.
A cool gust of wind slipped past and you shivered slightly before wrapping your shawl more securely around your shoulders. The deep emerald folds of your gown skimmed the pavement as you passed by familiar faces. A nod here, a polite smile there—acknowledgments exchanged only with those who conveyed.
“Lady Kang, a pleasure as always,” called Mr. Lee, tipping his hat as he stood outside his tailor’s shop.
“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Lee,” you replied smoothly, meeting his gaze for just a moment before continuing forward.
Maya, ever at your side, leaned in conspiratorially. “They’re staring again,” she whispered, her voice low but laced with indignation. “Especially those two gentlemen by the bakery. And that woman by the flower stall—oh, I know she has something horrid to say.”
You merely exhaled through your nose, unbothered. “Let them.”
Maya scoffed, quick to defend. “If anyone so much as breathes the wrong way near you, my lady, I’ll tackle them into the mud.”
That earned a quiet chuckle from you. “I trust you would.”
“With all my heart!” she huffed, puffing up her chest. “They can glare all they want, but none of them dare approach. They know better.”
“And if they don’t?”
“Then they’ll learn when they’re face-down on the street,” she declared, making you bite back a laugh.
With Maya's fiery loyalty echoing in your ears, you finally reached your destination—a modest yet distinguished establishment nestled between a bookseller’s shop and an apothecary. The dark wood sign above the door bore the name Westmere Publishing House, its golden lettering gleaming even beneath the overcast sky.
Inside, the air was warm, comforting in contrast with the outside ambiance, laced with the tender scent of aged paper and ink. A grandfather clock ticked softly from the far corner, its steady rhythm a backdrop to the gentle rustling of parchment and the quiet murmurs of literary discussions.
“Lady Kang,” a warm voice greeted.
You turned to find Mr. Alistair Lennox rising from behind his desk, a welcoming smile gracing his features. A man of keen intellect and unwavering integrity, he had been one of the few in his profession to treat your writing with the respect it deserved, rather than dismissing it as an amusing hobby for a noblewoman.
“Mr. Lennox,” you inclined your head. “I hope the morning finds you well.”
“Better now that you’re here,” he mused, gesturing towards the armchairs before his desk. “Come, sit. I had Mrs. Porter prepare some tea—I recall you have a preference for blackcurrant.”
A pleased hum left your lips as you settled into the chair, Maya standing dutifully near the door. Lennox poured the tea himself, steam curling into the air as he handed you a cup.
You accepted the delicate porcelain cup with a faint smile, letting the warmth seep into your fingers before taking a slow sip. The tart sweetness bloomed on your tongue. Lennox, however, did not drink.
“Now,” he began, settling into his own seat, “I must say, your latest manuscript… intriguing, as always.”
You took a careful sip before meeting his gaze. “You hesitate.”
Lennox chuckled. “Ah, you never miss a thing, do you? It’s not hesitation, my lady, merely consideration. Your writing is evocative—there is no denying its brilliance. But your themes…” He exhaled. “They challenge certain conventions. That is not a flaw, mind you, but the industry is slow to embrace change.”
You watched as he flipped through the pages, his gaze sharp despite the amusement in his tone. His fingers paused on a particular passage, and he tapped it lightly before reading aloud:
‘He is a man with coal-stained hands, hands that build and break and bleed. The city calls him nameless, faceless, another thread in its grand tapestry, easily unraveled. But to her, he is not nameless. Not faceless. He is a man. And she, born to silken sheets and idle afternoons, has learned that wealth is merely another kind of prison.’
A silence stretched between you, save for the soft clink of porcelain as you placed your teacup down. Lennox looked up, a smile peeking under his gray mustache.
“A noblewoman falling in love with a man of lower birth—a factory worker, no less.”
You leaned back in your chair, lacing your gloved fingers together over your lap. “Not love,” you corrected. “Understanding. She sees him, truly, and he sees her. They are bound not by romance only but also by the realization that neither of them is free.”
Lennox let out a low hum, tracing the rim of his teacup though he still did not drink. His brows furrowed slightly, deep in thought. “Your portrayal of class disparity is unforgiving to society, my lady.”
“It is honest.”
“That is precisely why it will be met with resistance,” he murmured, adjusting the sleeves of his coat. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, gauging your reaction. “The lords and ladies you write of—self-indulgent, callous to the suffering beneath them—many will see themselves in your words, and they will not take kindly to it.”
“They need not take kindly,” you replied smoothly, gloved fingers trailing the gold rim of your saucer. “Only take notice.”
Lennox sighed, rubbing a hand over his chin, but there was an unmistakable glint of both hopefulness and disquietness in his gaze. “You do enjoy stirring the pot, don’t you?”
You smiled then, slow and knowing. “If the pot boils over, it was never stable to begin with.”
“Dangerous words, my lady.” He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
“I have never feared danger, Mr. Lennox.”
The grandfather clock chimed the passing hour, a draft ghosting through the room, carrying the faint scene of petrichor from an open window. Outside, the city bustled on, oblivious to the quiet revolution bound in the pages between you.
Lennox studied you a moment longer, then, with a resigned exhale, closed the manuscript. “Very well. I will see it through, but do not expect an easy road.”
You traced the rim of your teacup with a thoughtful finger. “You mean they are unwilling to accept the notion that a woman might write about more than love and pleasantries.”
His lips twitched. “Something like that.”
“I refuse to soften my words to soothe their sensibilities.”
“I suspected as much.” He leaned back, eyes appraising you with something akin to admiration. “Your work deserves to be read in its truest form. I will push for it, but you must be prepared—as I mentioned, there will be resistance.”
A lesser writer might have balked at the prospect. But you? You merely smiled. “Then let us give them something worth resisting.”
Lennox chuckled, shaking his head. “I have no doubt you will.”
And with that, the conversation shifted to logistics—edits, print schedules, the inevitable backlash that would follow. But opposition had never stopped you before. And it certainly would not stop you now.
Maya tugged at your sleeve, eyes bright with insistence. “My lady, just a moment—I must get bread for today’s breakfast from Roselyne’s.”
You exhaled a quiet breath, indulging her with a small nod. The bakery stood beside a flower stall, and the scent of baked goods curling with the fresh fragrance of the new blooms pulled you in. She hurried inside, promising to be swift, while you dallied by the door looking at the colourful arrangements of flowers.
A breeze stirred against your skin, light yet invigorating, brushing past like a whispered greeting from the changing seasons. The street in front of the bakery held a rare stillness, the city’s usual clamor softened into a gentle hum. Drawn by the cool touch of the air, you stepped further outside, closing your eyes for a moment, letting it fill your lungs—
—but it was knocked out of your lungs the very next moment when something barreled into you.
Your balance wavered, feet slipping slightly over the uneven stones beneath you. “Ah—” Your voice barely escaped, the world tilting just enough to send a spike of disorientation through you. But a strong hand caught your arm, steadying you before you could stumble further. A figure pulled back, just as swift as he had collided into you, long strands of black hair shifting against his skin as he turned away.
“Forgive me,” the stranger murmured, the words clipped yet polite, already stepping past you.
You barely caught a glimpse of him—just the dark hair that rested against his nape. By the time your mind caught up with your body, he was already disappearing into the street, swallowed by the slow-moving morning crowd up ahead.
“My lady!” Maya’s voice cut through your thoughts as she rushed out of the bakery, hands firm on your arms, checking you over. “Are you alright? What happened? Did someone—?”
You blinked, the world snapping back into focus. Your hand absentmindedly clasped around to feel the ghosting warmth left on your arm by the stranger.
“Nothing,” you murmured at last, brushing your hands over your sleeves. “It was nothing.”
Maya’s brows knit together, her gaze flicking toward the street where the figure had vanished. “If someone dared push my lady—!”
You let out a quiet breath of laughter. “You would tackle them?”
She huffed. “And more.”
Shaking your head, you linked your arm through hers, steering her back toward the carriage. “Come, or we shall be late for breakfast.”
The morning sun filtered through the grand dining hall, casting a golden glow over the long table adorned with porcelain and silver. The scent of freshly baked bread and brewed tea mingled in the air, yet any notion of a pleasant breakfast waned the moment your eyes landed on her—your aunt.
Seated beside your mother with a posture too stiff and a gaze too critical, she regarded you with the same thinly veiled disapproval she had worn for years. It was a wonder she still attended these meals when her distaste for you—and everything you represented—was no secret.
Still, you held your composure, inclining your head in the barest acknowledgment before moving past her.
"Good morning, Mother," you said warmly, pressing a kiss to her cheek before taking your seat. "Is Father not joining us?"
"He had to leave early for the academy," she replied, offering you a gentle smile as she poured your tea. "He sends his regards."
A shame. Your father’s presence would have at least softened the atmosphere. The conversation shifted as your mother set down the teapot. "Ah, I meant to tell you—I have arranged for a tutor for your brother."
You lifted a brow. "A tutor?"
"Yes, dear," she said, stirring her tea absently. "I thought it best to bring in someone with experience, given your own work."
You straightened slightly, setting down your fork with a quiet clink. "Mother, you know I am more than capable of handling his studies."
"And I know how you bury yourself in your writing," she countered, eyes warm but firm. "I would rather not distract you from your ambitions."
Your lips parted in protest, but before you could speak, a sharp voice cut through the conversation.
"Ambitions," your aunt scoffed, dabbing at her mouth with a silk napkin. "A lady should concern herself with finding a husband, not burying her head in ink and parchment. No respectable man wants a woman who has already given her heart to books."
A heavy pause filled the space.
Maya, standing dutifully nearby, remained perfectly composed, save for the way her fingers curled tightly around the pitcher she was holding. Your mother, though ever poised, let out a sharp sigh of disapproval glancing at your aunt.
"How fortunate, then, that I have no need for a respectable man." You took a bite of your bread.
Your aunt’s eyebrows bristled.
Smiling sweetly, you set your silverwares down, eyes gleaming. "I have always been under the impression that a man of true quality would value a sharp mind over an empty head, but perhaps such men are rare in your circles, Aunt."
Maya coughed—too sharp to be anything but a stifled laugh. Your mother, hiding her expression behind her teacup, exhaled lightly, the corners of her lips threatening to curve. You wanted to mention the scandalous part of her husband’s infidelity, but you decided to save that for some other time. Lucky for your aunt, you were feeling generous.
Your aunt, for her part, sputtered, her lips parting and closing as though searching for a retort that would not come. You merely tilted your head in mock sympathy, waiting—watching—as she fumed in silence.
"Well," she finally huffed, picking up her knife and fork. "We shall see how long such ideas last, my dear."
"Oh, I do believe they shall last quite a while," you mused, lifting your teacup. "After all, unlike certain opinions, my ideas have substance."
This time, Maya had to turn away completely, shoulders trembling. Your mother took an exceptionally long sip of tea, eyes closed. And just as your aunt’s expression soured further, your mother smoothly redirected the conversation.
"The tutor I mentioned," she said, setting her teacup down, "is the son of an old friend of mine. You perhaps do not remember him as you were very little. His name is Choi Beomgyu, and he is a year older than you. He will be arriving later this week."
Choi Beomgyu.
The name did sound familiar, but unfamiliar at the very same time—like certain smells from one’s childhood that trigger an overwhelming sense of nostalgia yet you couldn’t quite grasp the feeling of longing in your palms.
"He comes from an esteemed family, and he is quite studious and well-mannered. I think he will be a fine tutor for your brother."
You hummed noncommittally, turning back to your plate. An extra presence in the house was the least of your concerns at present—but still, the name lingered in your mind longer than expected. For now, however, you would deal with the matters at hand—like the way your aunt still stared daggers at you across the table.
You simply smiled at her, making sure it was sweet enough to irk another reaction out of her, then went back to your breakfast.
A week had passed since your mother first mentioned the tutor. You had not thought much of it then—people came and went from your home as easily as the changing seasons. Some as guests, others as suitors, all predictably forgettable.
A soft breeze ghosted through the sheer curtains, carrying the scent of damp earth and lingering autumn chill. You might have surrendered to the warmth of your sheets—had it not been for the relentless force that was Lee Maya.
“My lady,” came her singsong voice, already too awake for your liking. “It is time for your horse riding practice.”
A low groan was your only response as you turned over, pulling the covers over your head.
Maya was having none of it. “Come now,” she cajoled, tugging insistently at the blankets. “The horses await!”
“They can wait longer,” you muttered, voice muffled against your pillow.
Maya gasped in mock offense. “Abandoning your beloved steed? Scandalous! Why, if your aunt heard of this, she would say—”
“‘How terribly unladylike!’” you finished for her, cracking one eye open. “Oh, the horror.”
Maya snorted before giving one final, merciless tug, dragging you from your cocoon of warmth. "Up, up, before I fetch the cold water."
Despite your protests, the routine began—Maya moving with routined efficiency, dressing you in your riding attire: a crisp white blouse with a high neck, its full sleeves flowing with each movement. Then, the final act of defiance—pants.
Oh, if your aunt saw you now.
By the time you returned from the stables, your pulse still thrummed with the exhilaration of the ride, the cool morning air clung against your skin. The familiar sight of the manor greeted you—its grandeur as eternal and old as time. But something was amiss.
A carriage stood at the entrance. Not one of yours.
Maya, already ahead of you, had paused by the steps. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, hands clasped behind her back as if restraining herself from bursting with whatever news she held.
You pulled your gloves off slowly. “Maya.”
She bit her lip, nearly vibrating in place. You arched a brow.
“The tutor,” she finally whispered, eyes darting toward the door. “He is here.”
Right. The tutor for your brother. You had almost forgotten.
Maya all but dragged you inside, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “He is with your mother in the drawing room now. Oh, my lady, I must say—” she clutched her hands to her chest—“he is terribly handsome.”
You huffed a quiet laugh. “Is that so?”
Maya nodded fervently as she led you through the halls, each step bringing you closer to the drawing room. And then—just as you reached the threshold—you saw him.
The scene before you could rival a famous painter’s artwork. Your mother sat with an air of elegance, her tea untouched as she spoke. Across from her, dressed in a well-tailored suit, sat a young man. Your gaze swept over him instinctively, cataloging details with the sharp precision you had honed over years of navigating drawing rooms filled with strangers.
He was tall, his frame lean but unmistakably strong beneath the crisp folds of his clothing. His hair was a deep, inky black, falling in soft, slightly tousled layers that framed his face; a natural shine catching the light just enough to emphasize its silky texture. The length grazed just past his ears, with the front strands parted slightly off-center, allowing a few wisps to fall delicately over his forehead.
He smiled, leaning forward slightly, speaking to your mother in a voice too low for you to catch. Then, with impeccable grace, he reached for her hand, bowing his head as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
A gesture of respect. One you had seen countless times before.
And yet, for some reason, you could not look away.
Your mother laughed lightly at something he said, and you—standing just beyond the doorway—felt something foreign settle in your chest from the mere scene.
Maya, ever the menace, nudged your arm. “Told you.”
You exhaled slowly, schooling your expression into one of polite neutrality.
He was handsome, yes. A fresh face among the endless line of suitors who had graced your home.
But unlike them, he was not here for you.
“Get the bath running, Maya.” You turned on your heel, dismissing the lingering thoughts as easily as you dismissed the tutor’s presence. You had work to do.
The manuscript for your latest project was complete, sealed away, soon to be scrutinized by those who would either fear or admire your words. Your next book awaited—an entirely new world demanding to be shaped, a story yearning to be told.
You hoped for the tutor to settle into his place in this house just fine.
In the living room, seated across from your mother, Beomgyu carried himself with an air of grace, basking in the warmth of familiarity. A soft smile played on his lips, the kind that carried both warmth and restraint, as if every word he spoke was carefully measured, thoughtful in its delivery.
“It has been years since I last saw you,” your mother said, a trace of nostalgia in her tone as she studied him. “You were but a boy when you left. And now look at you—how time has changed things.”
Beomgyu inclined his head, his gaze respectful. “Change is inevitable, my lady,” he said, his voice a smooth, velvety timbre. “But some things remain—like fond memories and kindness received.”
She smiled at that, pleased. “Your studies abroad must have shaped you well. I hear you spent much of your time immersed in philosophy and literature.”
“I did,” he affirmed, “and I found great joy in it. The world is vast, my lady, and there is always more to learn. But knowledge, I believe, is wasted if not used to help others.”
Your mother gave an approving nod. “A noble pursuit.” She set down her teacup, the fine porcelain clinking softly. “You must make yourself at home here. Do not hesitate to look around the house for your comfort.”
“You are too kind,” Beomgyu said, his smile deepening just slightly into a boyish grin. “And I am grateful for the opportunity. My mother assured me that this household is one of warmth and dear friendship. I am honored to be here.”
Your mother’s expression softened. “It means a great deal that you accepted the offer of tutoring. My son will benefit from your guidance.”
He gave a slight nod, ever the picture of a gentleman. “I will do my best, my lady. Education is a privilege, and I hope to help where I can.”
Beneath his polished manner lay ambition—not the reckless, self-serving kind that so often plagued men of high standing, but an earnest desire to use his intellect to make a difference. Having spent years among scholars and thinkers, he had learned to wield knowledge as a tool, not just for personal gain but for the betterment of those who needed it. When the opportunity to tutor was presented, he had accepted without hesitation—not merely out of duty, but out of belief. And if his mother had assured him that this was a house of trust, then he would see it as such.
A butler soon led him to the study room, where he settled into an armchair by the grand oak desk. The shelves stretched high, filled with volumes of literature and philosophy, their spines worn from years of appreciation. It was a space of thought, of discussion, and of ambitious pursuit.
He traced a finger along the gilded title of a familiar book, exhaling softly. There was a sense of belonging here, an understanding that he had stepped into a home where minds were meant to be cultivated, where curiosity was not just indulged but encouraged. And in that moment, he knew—he had made the right decision in coming here.
Minutes later, the door creaked open, and in stepped a young boy—your younger brother. He was around seventeen, soft-spoken and gentle in demeanor. His movements were meek that of a fawn, almost hesitant as he approached.
Beomgyu rose from his seat and offered a welcoming smile, his voice warm. “You must be the young master. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Your brother nodded, his expression polite yet uncertain. “It’s… nice to meet you as well, sir.”
“There’s no need for formalities,” Beomgyu said lightly. “I am here to guide you, not to intimidate you.”
That seemed to ease him a little. Beomgyu gestured toward the chair across from him, waiting until your brother was seated before beginning the lesson. But before delving into studies, he took a different approach—one that made all the difference.
“Tell me,” Beomgyu said as he arranged the papers before him, “what do you enjoy learning about?”
The question caught your brother off guard. Tutors usually dictated subjects, never asked preferences. After a brief pause, he mumbled, “I… like history.”
“A fine subject,” Beomgyu remarked. “Stories of the past shape the present. Do you have a favorite historical figure?”
Your brother hesitated, then answered, “Alexander the Great.”
Beomgyu smiled. “A fascinating choice. A conqueror, a strategist, a man of vision. Do you admire him for his strength or for his mind?”
Your brother blinked, considering. “His mind,” he admitted softly. “He was brilliant.”
“A scholar before a warrior,” Beomgyu mused, nodding approvingly. “You have an eye for intellect. I think we’ll get along just fine.” He punctuated his sentence with a wink.
The conversation eased the boy’s initial nervousness, and soon, the lesson began in earnest. Beomgyu spoke to him not as a mere student but as an equal, offering him space to think, to speak, to form his own ideas. It was a kind of teaching that encouraged rather than commanded.
Somewhere in the midst of their discussions, your brother mentioned you.
“She’s quite well-read too,” your brother said, shifting slightly in his seat. “More than anyone I know.”
Beomgyu glanced up with mild curiosity. “Ah, your sister?”
He nodded, but his voice lowered, almost hesitant. “Though she can be a bit intimidating.”
There was no malice in his words, only hushed truth. He admired you more than anyone, but he also knew of the battles you fought—how society viewed you, how you stood against it. He chose not to elaborate further, offering only the vague statement.
Beomgyu tilted his head slightly but did not press. Instead, he smiled—ever-gentle. “I’m sure she’s lovely.”
Your brother said nothing to that. He only looked down at his papers, a faint, knowing smile on his lips. Beomgyu, perceptive as ever, took note of it but let the moment pass.
The lesson carried on, but the thought lingered in Beomgyu’s mind. A bit intimidating, is she? He found himself intrigued, though he did not let it show. Respect first, always.
But curiosity… curiosity had a way of unraveling things in its own time.
The amber glow of the sinking sun in the horizon filtered through the tall windows of your study. The room, your personal refuge, was a sanctuary of solitude and intellect. It was here that you had spent the entire afternoon, quill in hand, weaving words onto crisp parchment, lost in the rhythm of your work.
Maya had long since succumbed to exhaustion, no doubt asleep in her quarters after you had firmly insisted she take a break. The house, aside from the occasional distant murmur of conversation or the faint clinking of silverware being tidied away, was tranquil. The household staff—those who came and went for daily duties—had long since departed, leaving only the trusted butler and Maya within these walls.
A dull ache settled between your shoulders, coaxing a sigh from your lips as you leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. The exhaustion of the day pressed against your spine, a reminder that even the mind, no matter how disciplined, needed respite. Deciding a brief reprieve was in order, you rose from your seat, smoothing out the fabric of your blouse before making your way downstairs for a glass of water and perhaps a moment of fresh evening air.
As you descended, the hushed quiet of the manor allowed every step to echo softly against the polished floors. Passing by the study, murmurs from within halted you in your steps. You paused, careful to remain unseen, as your gaze settled through the slightly ajar doors.
Beomgyu was moving around, his face vibrant as he animatedly, passionately explained something. His hands gestured fluidly, his voice carrying warmth, sometimes rose an octave, sometimes downed. Your brother, usually so reserved, was positively beaming—eyes alight with unrestrained enthusiasm, laughter slipping from his lips with unfiltered delight. It was rare to see him so at ease with a stranger.
The sight tilted your head slightly in curiosity. A quiet chuckle escaped you before you turned away, leaving them to their lesson as you resumed your path toward the kitchen. Your mother, as you soon discovered, was absent—likely out with her circle of friends, engaged in the evening gossip of the elite.
After fetching your water, you strolled toward the garden, embracing the crisp air and the lingering scent of damp earth from the previous night’s rain. The stillness soothed your mind, the solitude a welcome embrace as the breeze teased the loose strands of your hair. You took your time, savoring the rare peace before returning inside.
Meanwhile, in the study, your brother closed his books with a satisfied sigh. The lesson had concluded for the day, and as he gathered his things, he glanced at Beomgyu. “There’s a library upstairs,” he mentioned offhandedly, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. “Mother mentioned you are free to look around the house as you please.”
Beomgyu, intrigued, offered a grateful nod. “I would like that.”
His student then excused himself, eager to join his friends for the evening, leaving Beomgyu in the company of the elderly butler. The older man, ever watchful, regarded him with mild amusement before speaking. “Will you be needing anything, sir?”
Beomgyu shook his head politely. “No, thank you. I appreciate your concern.”
The butler gave a small nod of approval before departing, leaving Beomgyu alone in the quiet of the house. Curiosity now stirred within him—your brother’s mention of the library had piqued his interest. He was always drawn to books, to the knowledge they harbored, to the ideas that breathed between their pages.
He made his way upstairs, footsteps light against the polished wood, trailing the hallways with a sense of caution. He had yet to learn the layout of the house, and as he navigated through the dimly lit corridor, he turned into a room, expecting to find walls lined with bookshelves and a collection of literature awaiting him—which he did find, but unbeknownst to him, it wasn’t the library he was looking for.
Instead, he stepped into your study.
The room wasn’t large, but it held a distinct sense of grandeur. Crescent-shaped seating wrapped around tall windows, where pale evening light filtered through the glass. Books lined the wall shelves, the desk space, even the wide sills—some stacked neatly, others left open, marked by neat annotations. A writing desk sat against the far wall, occupied by a typewriter, parchments, and a modest vase of fresh baby’s breaths.
Beomgyu took a slow step forward, his gaze drawn to the books. Some of these titles were rare—ones he had only read about, never seen with his own eyes. His fingers brushed the spine of a well-worn volume, curiosity tugging him closer. Then his eyes fell upon the stack of loose papers on the desk, scripts of some kind. He walked over to the study desk, leaning in to take a better look.
"It’s improper to sneak around."
The cool voice startled him. Beomgyu turned sharply, finding you leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. Your sharp gaze, hooded slightly, held him in place. The warm light of the setting sun cast a glow against your features, making your amber-brown eyes gleam like smoldering embers. However, there was no warmth in your expression, and clearly no trace of amusement.
For a moment, Beomgyu faltered. Your brother was right. You were intimidating.
Yet, before he could gather his manners, something clicked in his memory. "It’s you," he blurted before he could stop himself.
Your brow arched. Misunderstanding his words, you stepped further inside, exhaling softly. “Ah, I forgot—my reputation isn’t to everyone’s appetite.”
Beomgyu’s confusion was evident, and he hurried to explain. “No, my lady, I meant—I saw you days ago. On the road. I nearly—” he paused, then continued with a sheepish chuckle, “—rode straight into you. I had just arrived in town that day.”
You hesitated, studying him carefully. As his words sank in, a memory surfaced—black strands of hair catching the morning light, a fleeting grip around your arm, a murmured apology before vanishing into the street.
So it had been him.
The realization settled within you, an odd sense of recognition threading through your thoughts. How small the world could be sometimes. So he hadn’t meant it as a slight against your name. With the realization came along a bashful chiding of your own prejudice.
With a measured nod, you conceded, "I see. My apologies, then."
Beomgyu exhaled, relieved, only to stiffen again at your next words. "Though I must say, I didn’t take you for the kind of gentleman who would invade a lady’s secluded space. Quite indecorous."
His posture straightened immediately, embarrassment rushing in like a wave. "I assure you, that wasn’t my intent. Your brother mentioned a library, and I assumed—"
You allowed a ghost of a smirk. “You are in a library,” you interrupted, amused despite yourself. “Just not the one you were looking for.” You motioned toward the bookshelves around you before adding, “This is my study.”
Realizing his mistake, Beomgyu stepped back instinctively. He dipped his head earnestly. "My deepest apologies, my lady. I overstepped."
You held his gaze for a moment before deciding to let it go. He was to be present in your house for the foreseeable future, after all—no sense in making an enemy of him over a single misstep.
Turning, you ambled toward your desk, fingers skimming over your papers, but you noted that he hadn’t left. Beomgyu’s gaze, now free of tension, wandered back toward the bookshelves.
"You have quite the collection," he mused. "More extensive than even the libraries I frequented overseas."
You didn’t glance up. "It’s not for display. I’ve read them all."
"I don’t doubt it."
Your fingers paused over a book near your desk. Without looking at him, you asked, "And do you read, Lord Choi? Or do you only admire titles?"
His lips twitched at the clear challenge in your tone. "I read. Quite a lot, actually."
"Oh?" You lifted the book, glancing at its spine before tossing it lightly onto the seat beside you. "Then tell me—what is the central philosophy of A Dissonance of Ideals?"
The question was a trap. The book was rare, barely printed beyond its first run due to its controversial stance on class and freedom. Most men you’d met boasted of their intellect, only to flounder under scrutiny.
But Beomgyu did not flounder.
"That true liberation is not granted—it is taken," he answered smoothly. "The novel challenges the notion that freedom is bestowed upon the deserving, arguing instead that the oppressed must seize it for themselves. The protagonist, despite being of noble blood, aligns himself with those deemed lesser, and in doing so, sees the fallacy of his own privilege."
A stunned silence graced you. He held your gaze without hesitation, the smile on his lips was calm, not a trace of bluffing. You felt a small, reluctant flicker of intrigue.
Leaning back against your desk, you let out a quiet hum. "Not a bad answer."
Beomgyu huffed a short laugh. "High praise."
"High praise is reserved for those who deserve it." You observed him a moment longer before turning your attention back to your desk. "But at least you’re not entirely hopeless."
He chuckled, but there was something thoughtful in his eyes as he looked at you. This was no ordinary noblewoman before him—no delicate lady who needed to be flattered or coddled. You were sharp and quick-witted. But what struck him the most about you was that you're unapologetic.
He felt like a moth drawn toward smoldering flames in your presence.
The door creaked, and Maya’s voice cut through the moment. “My lady, I—” She paused mid-step, blinking at Beomgyu as if only just realizing he was there. Her eyes darted between the two of you, before slowly widening like saucers. Fortunately, she kept her mouth shut.
You exhaled, shifting your attention to her. “Did you rest properly?”
“Yes, my lady.” Maya nodded, still watching you both curiously.
“Good.” You turned to Beomgyu, voice composed once more. “It’s getting dark, Lord Choi. You must need rest. Maya will escort you to your carriage.”
Beomgyu inclined his head. “It was a pleasure, my lady.”
You nodded. Then, as an afterthought, you said, “I hope my brother wasn’t difficult to teach.”
Beomgyu’s lips curved slightly. “Not at all.”
The warmth in his gaze, so inviting, almost made you smile. But you merely nodded once more as he followed Maya out.
Left alone in your study, your eyes drifted to the bookshelves once more. Your fingers trailed the spine of a book that he previously touched before you murmured, “How interesting.”
The storm raged through that night, rattling the windows and drumming against the roof in an unrelenting downpour. The roads had turned to treacherous mud, the trees bending and swaying under the force of the wind. Unsurprisingly, Beomgyu did not arrive for his tutoring session the next morning.
Yet, despite knowing the obvious, you found yourself standing by the tall windows of the library, gaze flickering toward the entrance of your house, searching for a carriage that was not one of yours. The thought struck you as ridiculous—you had no reason to anticipate his arrival, and yet, there you stood.
Shaking off the thought, you returned to your desk, burying yourself in your work as the storm outside continued its merciless reign. Hours passed, the flickering candlelight casting shadows over parchment, the scratching of your quill filled the room with a symphonic rhythm.
A knock at the door drew your attention. The elderly butler entered, carefully holding a sealed letter. "A message for you, my lady. From Mr. Lennox."
You set your quill down and took the letter, breaking the seal with a letter opener. As your eyes scanned the contents, a wave of relief washed over you. Your manuscript has been accepted. Soon, it will be published.
The battle was only half-won—now, you would wait for the world to cast its judgment upon your words.
The following morning, Beomgyu’s carriage rolled through the now-cleared roads toward your manor. Seated inside with him was his mother, her gaze lingering on the passing scenery before settling upon her son.
"How are you finding it here in town?" she asked, her voice gentle yet inquisitive.
Beomgyu shifted slightly, considering the question. "It is different from what I’ve grown used to. Everyone has been quite kind."
His mother hummed in agreement. "And the Kang household? How do you find them?"
Beomgyu's expression softened slightly. "They have been welcoming. I had no reason to expect otherwise, but even so, their kindness is something I have come to appreciate."
As his words settled, his mind drifted unbidden to you. To the unfortunate series of mishaps that had marked each of his encounters with you—the collision outside the bakery, the intrusion into your study. He let out a quiet sigh before speaking again.
"I was thinking of stopping by the library after today’s lesson. To buy some… flowers."
His mother turned to him, eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. She knew her son had always been rather interesting with his mindset and choice of words, but still it didn’t help with her brewing curiosity. "Flowers? From a library?"
Beomgyu had spoken too hastily. He didn’t wish to explain his choice of words to his mother yet. It was an idea that occurred to him late at night before he fell asleep thinking of you.
His mother, ever perceptive, caught the misstep and pressed further. "For whom, exactly?"
He opened his mouth, ready to answer, only to falter. A realization struck him—he did not know your name. Not once had it been spoken to him. Your mother had referred to you only as her daughter, your brother as his older sister.
Catching his hesitation, his mother blinked in mild disbelief. "Beomgyu, surely you are jesting. You have been in their house and do not even know the young lady’s name?"
Beomgyu’s eyes widened at how easily she caught on. He was just a boy who could not hide anything from his mother. Heat crept up his neck. "It… never came up."
His mother shook her head, caught between exasperation and laughter. "You must ask her yourself. A gentleman must not assume but rather seek to know with due respect."
Beomgyu could only nod, more embarrassed than he cared to admit. But before she could move on, curiosity still sparked in her gaze. "But tell me, why exactly would you be searching for flowers in a library for her?"
His shoulders stiffened. There was no graceful escape from this conversation now. So, he told her everything.
By the time he finished recounting his series of missteps, his mother was shaking her head, exasperated. "Oh, Beomgyu," she murmured, half-laughing. "You must properly apologize to the lady."
The carriage began to slow as they reached her designated stop. Before stepping out, she turned back to him one last time, offering a knowing smile. "And do not forget again, son. It is discourteous."
Beomgyu only sighed, watching as she disappeared into the bustling street. As soon as the carriage door shut, he exhaled deeply, running a hand over his face before instructing the driver to continue on.
The library awaited him first. Then, your manor.
Rain pattered lightly against the windows as Beomgyu sat with your younger brother, his lesson drawing to a close. The sky outside was a murky gray, the air thick with the scent of petrichor. On the table beside him, a package rested. He had yet to see you today.
As he contemplated whether to entrust the gift to your brother or seek out Maya to deliver it, a flicker of movement outside in the distance caught his attention. Through the blurred glass, he glimpsed a lone figure wandering through the garden.
"She’s out again for the rain," your brother remarked, following his gaze.
Beomgyu blinked. "In this weather?"
"She likes the rain."
A low and foreboding roll of thunder grumbled in the distance. Beomgyu sighed slowly, feeling the ever growing presence of the package beside him. He hesitated before asking, "Does she prefer company?"
Your brother tilted his head in thought, then shrugged. "You should probably find that out on your own."
Beomgyu did not need to be told twice.
The first drop of rain that touched your skin was cool, a soft whisper against the lingering warmth of the evening. The next ones came heavier, a rhythm quickening into a pace urgent and relentless. You walked forward, letting the grass dampen the hem of your gown, inhaling the earthy scent of rain. It was calming, this solitude beneath the darkened sky.
Then, just as the storm began to truly break, a voice called through the downpour.
You turned, blinking against the misty veil of rain, only to see Beomgyu walking toward you.
He was a mess.
Perplexity gripped you. Beomgyu stood several paces away, utterly drenched, his fine suit ruined by the merciless rain. The once-pristine white of his collar was soaked through, the deep navy fabric of his coat clinging to his frame, now a shade darker with moisture. His pristine shoes were now mud-ridden, his long black hair plastered against his forehead, dripping rivulets of water down his cheekbones. Through all of that, he was grinning at you.
A beautiful mess, you corrected yourself.
"Lord Choi," you called over the storm, incredulous. "What on earth are you doing?"
Beomgyu exhaled, lifting a hand to swipe at his rain-slicked lashes, an utterly useless effort. Then, his grin faded into a sheepish smile.
"My lady," he said, voice warm despite the chill in the air, "I never got your name."
The rain drummed around you, the world narrowing to the space between you and the foolish man standing in the downpour.
You stared at him for a moment, utterly, truly perplexed. "You came out into the rain for that?"
"Yes," he admitted easily.
Something about the simple honesty of it made you laugh, breathless and disbelieving. You didn’t even fight the trickle of warmth trailing down your chest. “You do keep surprising me, Lord Choi,” you muttered, your voice drowned by the rain, and as you studied him for a beat, an idea sparked to life.
"Very well," you mused, lips curving into a small smile. "If you desire my name, you must earn it."
His brows lifted, intrigue flickering in his dark eyes. "And how shall I do that?"
The rain dripped from your fingertips, tracing cool paths against your skin. "A riddle," you declared. "Answer correctly, and I shall tell you. But if you fail…" You turned slightly, glancing toward the garden’s stone archway in the distance. "You must catch me before I reach the arch."
Beomgyu let out a small, breathy chuckle, shaking his head. "You wish to make a game of it?"
"Why not?" you challenged. "Do you accept?"
His smile deepened, eyes crinkling into crescents as he gave a long nod, before meeting your gaze through the curtain of rain. "It would be discourteous of me to refuse."
You took a steadying breath, the rhythm of the rain matching the anticipation curling in your chest. You recited:
"I have a heart that does not beat, a home but no doors. What am I?"
Beomgyu’s brows furrowed slightly, his mind working through the puzzle.
You waited only a breath before you turned sharply and ran. The sound of splashing footsteps followed a second later.
"You didn’t even give me time to think!" Beomgyu called, his voice half-laugh, half-exasperation.
"You should be quicker, then!" you tossed over your shoulder, skirts damp and heavy as you sprinted across the grass.
The archway was ahead, framed by ivy, its stone glistening with rain. Just a little further—
"A book!"
—The answer rang through the storm, triumphant.
You faltered slightly, laughing, but did not stop. "Yet," you called back, breathless, "you must still catch me!"
"You are entirely unfair!"
"You are far too slow, Lord Choi—"
His hand caught your wrist before you finished speaking.
You were turned swiftly, rain-soaked and breathless, your back meeting the cool stone of the archway as Beomgyu’s presence loomed close, his breath shallow from exertion.
His fingers, though chilled from the rain, were gentle where they curled around your wrist. Drops of water clung to his face, trailing down the line of his jaw, his lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling from the chase.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound between you was the steady downpour of rain, the distant rumble of thunder, and the sound of your entangled breathing between the small space.
Beomgyu’s gaze softened, his fingers loosening but not quite letting go. "My lady," he murmured, voice rich with something you couldn’t name. "Will you keep your promise?"
Your own breath was uneven, though not entirely from the run. Your eyes fell onto his hand that was holding yours, then met his gaze, and in that moment, you felt a flicker of something warm passing between you.
"Very well, Lord Choi."
You stepped closer, the scent of rain and earth wrapping around you both. He was still catching his breath, his chest rising and falling, but he did not move away. Droplets clung to his lashes, sliding down the curve of his cheek, and for a moment, you hesitated—so close you could hear the quiet hitch in his breathing.
Then, voice hushed as if you’re passing a secret with the wind, you whispered your name into his ear.
The words were warm against his skin, softer than the rainfall that dripped from your lips. A secret given, and just as swiftly, you slipped past him, the space between you vanishing as you walked toward your home, leaving him standing under the arch.
Beomgyu remained where he was, his posture unmoving, as if still caught in the moment. His lips parted slightly, shaping the syllables of your name in a reverent murmur, testing the way it curled on his tongue.
Your name tasted like sunlight, like warm honey trickling down his throat curling into the very veins of his heart, seeking abode in the empty space. Like something distant yet achingly familiar, something he had reached for without knowing he had wanted it.
A quiet exhale left him, his fingers twitching faintly as he recalled the package he had left inside. His original intent had been simple—an apology wrapped in parchment and intent. But now, he found himself unable to give it to you just yet.
No, not until he had written your name on it.
Maya was cleaning the windows when her eyes traveled outside, only for her breath to catch in sheer horror. The cloth in her hand nearly slipped from her grip as she stumbled back.
“My lady—!” she gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.
You stepped through the entrance, rain-soaked from head to toe, water dripping from your sleeves onto the polished floor. Your hair clung damply to your skin, but you merely smiled as Maya rushed forward, her expression switching from disbelief to outright panic.
“You went out in the rain again?” she cried, wringing her hands. “My lady, you’re going to fall ill one of these days! Have you no care for your health?”
As you were about to offer a reply, Maya’s eyes flickered past you, and she nearly reeled back. Her panic-stricken gaze landed on the man stepping in behind you—Choi Beomgyu, drenched in equal measure. His fine suit was utterly ruined, his dark hair plastered against his forehead, his shoes carrying a trail of rainwater and mud. And yet, despite his disheveled state, he remained funnily composed.
Maya gawked at him, then at you, then back at him, her brain clearly short-circuiting.
Beomgyu, ever polite even in such a situation, gave her a slight bow. “I apologize for the mess.”
Maya, on the verge of losing her mind, let out a strangled sound and scurried away in search of towels, her mutterings barely coherent. “This is—this is absolutely—oh, heavens above—”
Before you could so much as smother your amusement, a new presence entered the room—your mother. She came to a slow halt in the corridor, eyes sweeping over you both. Her expression was unreadable, utterly still, but the prolonged silence said enough.
Beomgyu stiffened ever so slightly beside you, then inclined his head, bowing deeply. “Lady Kang,” he greeted, his voice low and respectful. “I must apologize for my appearance and for the state of your home.”
Your mother said nothing at first, her gaze shifting between the two of you—her sharp eyes noting the way water still dripped onto the floor, the subtle heave of your shoulders from exertion, and the fact that, for the first time, you looked entirely unbothered in the presence of a man.
You, on the other hand, pointed in Beomgyu’s general direction without sparing him a glance. “His state is not my fault. He did this on his own.”
Your mother’s lips twitched slightly at that, but she withheld her comment.
Maya returned in a flurry of movement, shoving towels into both your hands before ushering you toward the fireplace. Your mother, after her curious silence, finally spoke. “Lord Choi, the storm has worsened. You should remain here until the rain subsides.”
“I appreciate your kindness, my lady,” Beomgyu said, voice warm yet firm, “but I shouldn’t impose any longer. I will return home at once.” He accepted the towel with a grateful nod and dried his hands before wrapping it around his shoulders.
Then, with a final bow—to her, to Maya, to you—Beomgyu turned toward the door. His departure was swift, but as he reached the threshold, he glanced back at you, lingering just a moment longer.
Then, with the faintest curl of his lips, he stepped into the waiting carriage and disappeared into the night.
Silence followed in his absence.
Your mother turned to you now, arching a single brow. It was a silent inquiry, one laden with quiet curiosity, but you merely deadpanned, “What?” before turning on your heel and making your way toward your room.
Your mother and Maya stood there, watching your retreating figure disappear up the stairs.
After a long pause, Maya whispered hesitantly, “Lady Kang, is she…?”
Your mother exhaled, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. “Who knows?”
Yet, deep down, she already did. It was still too early to assume, but in a long while, she felt a glimmer of hope.
Your mind, against your own wishes, wandered to Choi Beomgyu more often than you cared to admit.
You had met countless men—suitors of all ages, noblemen with polished shoes and sharper tongues, men who sought your hand not for who you were, but for what you could offer. To them, you were an acquisition, a means to an end, a prize to be won and caged. You had long since learned to navigate their intentions, to parry their flowery words with razor-sharp wit, to dance around their expectations with a smile that never quite reached your eyes.
But Beomgyu... that man intrigued you.
With every brief exchange, every moment shared, the feeling took root. He was proving to be unlike the rest—not because he lacked ambition or purpose, but because he carried himself with an ease unburdened by arrogance. He was learned but never boastful, kind without expectation. Unfiltered warmth and pure knowledge wrapped his entire being.
At least, for now.
So, you decided to watch him. To study him as you had studied countless others, to see if he was different or if he, too, would prove predictable. But till now there was nothing to scrutinize.
He came to the manor, tutored your brother, exchanged pleasantries with your mother and the household staff. Whenever your paths crossed, he offered you that warm, polite smile, never lingering longer than propriety allowed.
Nothing less, nothing more.
Yet, the fact that you continued to notice was enough to unsettle you.
“My lady.” You were pulled from your thoughts by the voice of your instructor. “That’s enough for today.”
Exhaling, you dismounted from your horse, handing the reins to the stable boy as the exhaustion settled deep in your limbs. The ride had been long, and though you normally relished the freedom it brought, today, you felt weighed down.
You arrived home, your boots pressing damp imprints into the grand marble floors as Maya rushed to greet you at the entrance. The moment she saw you, her lips parted in a quiet scolding, but before she could speak, hesitation flickered across her face.
“My lady—”
“I need a bath,” you murmured, already loosening the buttons at the collar of your shirt as you strode past her, shoulders heavy with weariness. “Prepare it for me.”
Maya hesitated, her fingers twisting into her apron. “My lady, I must warn you—”
You were far too exhausted to fully comprehend her warning.
Stepping into the living room, you were greeted by an unfamiliar figure lounging comfortably in one of the embroidered chairs. His presence was enough to still your steps, irritation prickling along your spine even before he spoke.
Lord Park Bokyung.
An older man whose hair was tinged with grey, bulky body that barely fit into the chair. He studied you, dark eyes raking over your disheveled state—your untucked shirt, the dirt-streaked boots, the absence of any attempt at ladylike decorum. A grin spread across his lips, crude and condescending.
“Well, well,” he drawled, turning to your mother, who sat stiffly across him, lips pressed into a thin line. “It appears the rumors were right. Your daughter does enjoy hobbies quite unbefitting of a lady. She is in such desperate need of a husband.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “A man must tame her before she ruins herself entirely.”
Your mother winced at his words but quickly straightened, her gaze sharpening. “Lord Park,” she said coolly, “please weave your words with caution when speaking of the members of the Kang estate in their own house—specifically, my daughter.”
Bokyung had the audacity to laugh, shaking his head as if amused by a child’s naïveté. “Ah, my lady, you misunderstand me. I jest, of course.” His voice was thick with feigned innocence, though his smirk betrayed his amusement. “My words are spoken out of concern—after all, what is a woman without a guiding hand to keep her from folly? I won't expect her to understand, she's still young after all.”
Your mother cast an apologetic glance at you. She hadn’t expected him any more than you had, and you could tell she regretted his presence entirely.
But regret would not erase the insult.
Something inside you cooled. A sharp, piercing sort of stillness settled in your chest, smoothing away the irritation and replacing it with something far more dangerous.
You turned, walking toward the far end of the room where two pistols rested mounted upon the wall. Fingers trailing over the polished wood, you spoke, voice terrifyingly calm.
“If a husband’s purpose is to keep me safe, then I would like to test his ability to do so.” You lifted the pistol from its display, and in one swift motion, you turned and aimed it directly at Lord Park.
The butler stiffened. Maya let out a strangled gasp, hands flying to her mouth. Even your mother, ever composed, shifted in alarm. The air in the room tensed with horror, every eye locked onto you, onto the weapon steady in your grip.
Bokyung’s amusement vanished. His body went rigid, his smirk faltering as his gaze darted between your face and the barrel now trained upon him. You almost laughed out when his chaperons cowered in fear behind him. This was the first time since your arrival, his composure cracked.
“You jest,” he said, but his voice lacked its prior confidence.
You hummed, tilting your head as if considering. “Do I?”
The man, his pride pricked, glanced at the assembled guests—your mother, Maya, the butler, his own chaperones. To refuse would be an admission of cowardice. To accept would be to entertain a lady’s absurd challenge.
His lips pressed into a thin line. “Very well.”
Under the veil of the blackened sky, the targets were being set in the garden. You stood quietly by the side, watching as Lord Park took his position.
From the balcony of the study, your brother leaned against the railing, amusement dancing in his eyes as he observed the unfolding spectacle. Beside him, Beomgyu stood, silent.
“The fifth one this week,” your brother mused, exhaling.
Beomgyu turned to him, brows raising slightly. “Fifth what?”
“Suitor.” Your brother glanced toward the garden, then smiled. “But this one must have said something particularly stupid.”
As the targets were prepared, Maya fidgeted beside the elderly butler, her hands clasped tightly together. Her unease was palpable, her eyes darting toward you before she whispered, “She should not have to prove herself to the likes of him.”
The butler, who had served your household for decades, merely sighed. “Do not worry, child,” he murmured, his voice low. “Have faith in her.”
Lord Park stepped forward, gripping the pistol with stiff fingers. He adjusted his stance, clearing his throat as if to reassert his shaken confidence. He raised the weapon, inhaled deeply, and fired.
The bullet whizzed through the air, entirely missing the target and flew somewhere beyond the distance. The silence that followed was deafening. His mouth opened and closed as he scrambled for an excuse, his face paling beneath the weight of failure. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he lowered the pistol, his fingers tightening around the grip as if it were the weapon’s fault and not his own.
A quiet hum left your lips. You stepped forward, rolling back your sleeves, feeling the familiarity of the pistol as you lifted it with the ease of someone who had done so countless times before.
You raised your arm, gaze steady and unlike Lord Park, you did not hesitate to fire the moment you locked your target. Your finger pressed the trigger in a decisive motion.
The bullet struck the center of your target. Without pause, you cocked the pistol again, exhaled a low laugh, and fired once more. The second target—his—was knocked down in an instant.
The echo of your shots still resonated when silence fell, heavier than before.
Lord Park gaped, mouth opening and closing uselessly. A flush of humiliation crawled up his neck as he scrambled to find something, anything, to say. The gathered onlookers remained motionless, their gazes flickering between you and the man who had so thoroughly been put in his place.
You turned to him, expression unreadable, then offered him a small, polite smile.
“How unfortunate,” you murmured, handing the pistol back to the elderly butler. “You speak of a husband keeping me safe so that I may not engage in such ‘unladylike’ activities—yet you cannot even strike a target.” You dusted off your cuffs, already losing interest. “It seems I must continue looking for one more capable.”
With that, you turned and strode away, leaving behind the stunned onlookers and the seething man who had just been thoroughly humiliated, but as you moved, your gaze flickered toward the study balcony. Your steps faltered.
Your brother was grinning, his mirth barely restrained. Beside him, Beomgyu stood frozen, his lips slightly parted, and his eyes—wide as they burned with something perilously close to awe. As if he were seeing you for the first time. As if, in this very moment, you had unraveled something within him he hadn’t even known was tightly wound.
His gaze curled around you like an invisible thread, weaving and pulling, suffocating every molecule of your being. Your breath stilled in your throat, your pulse faltering against your ribs. A warmth so foreign, so dizzying, crept up your neck, nipping at the edges of your composure.
Then, before the feeling could root itself any deeper, you tore your gaze away. Without another glance, you quickened your pace, lifting a hand to your lips as if that alone could smother the telltale flush dusting your skin.
But behind you, Beomgyu watched your retreating form with an intensity that bordered on reverence. His grip tightening ever so slightly against the railing; that man was utterly captivated.
Rain pattered lightly against the windows as you sat in your study, fingers pressed against your temple. After the day’s ordeal, exhaustion curled at the edges of your being, but irritation prickled beneath it like an itch that refused to be soothed. You had tried to lose yourself in work—letters to write, manuscripts to review—but nothing had been accomplished. Your mind was restless, drifting between frustration and weariness, a battlefield of thoughts refusing to be silenced.
A gentle knock at the door pulled you from your stupor. You blinked, momentarily dazed, the warmth from your bath still lingering against your skin. Before you could respond, your mother stepped inside, her presence a quiet balm against the chaos in your head.
Her eyes immediately softened as she took in your tired posture. "You had quite the eventful morning," she murmured, closing the door behind her.
You exhaled through your nose, pressing your fingers against your temple. "If by eventful you mean another insufferable suitor, then yes, quite so."
She chuckled, approaching the desk. "Maya is still recovering, poor thing. She nearly fainted when you challenged Lord Park to a shooting match."
A small smile tugged at your lips. "Perhaps she should develop a stronger constitution. It will not be the last time."
Your mother sighed, her expression turning fond but tinged with quiet concern. "My dear, you are formidable—of that, I have no doubt. But even the strongest warriors grow weary."
You met her gaze then, something inside you wavering. She always saw through you. Always knew when your edges began to fray. A moment passed before you murmured, "I am tired."
She reached out, smoothing a stray lock of hair from your face. "Then rest, my love. You do not always have to fight."
The words settled into your chest, warm and gentle, yet their meaning was something you weren’t sure how to grasp. Your mother did not press further. She simply kissed the top of your head, lingering for a moment before stepping away. "Good night, my dear."
"Good night, Mother."
You remained seated long after she left, her words circling your thoughts. Just as sleep threatened to claim you, another knock sounded at the door. This one was softer, almost hesitant.
"My lady, it’s me. Beomgyu."
Huh? He still hasn't left for home? You blinked, the unexpected sound of his voice pulling you upright. You weren’t sure why, but your heart gave a small, unsteady lurch.
From the other side of the door, he continued, "I understand if you do not wish to speak. If you are busy or seeking solitude, I will not intrude."
You stood slowly, your bare feet silent against the wooden floor as you approached the door but did not open it. You imagined him standing just as close on the other side, his presence inducing warmth in the space between you.
A pause. Then, in a softer tone, he said, "I brought you flowers. As an apology. For the times I have crossed the line."
An apology? You felt the first curl of disappointment bloom within you, a familiar sting that came when expectations fell short. Of course. Bringing gifts to soften you, to charm his way into favor—it was a move you had seen time and time again. Was he truly just like the rest?
Your grip on the door tightened. The temptation to simply walk away, to block him out as you had with so many others, nearly won over.
Then he spoke again. "I will leave them on the cabinet beside the door. I hope you like them."
Silence followed. You waited until the soft echo of his retreating footsteps faded. A minute, then another, until you were sure he had truly gone. Only then did you pull the door open, peering into the dimly lit corridor
Your gaze dropped to the cabinet. But instead of a bouquet, a thickly wrapped package sat in its place, secured with careful folds and a precise knot. Your brows knitted in confusion as you lifted it into your arms, its weight unexpected.
Frowning, you stepped back into your study and set the package onto your desk, fingers working to untie the string. “What on earth is this, Choi Beomgyu?” you murmured, a tinge of exasperation lacing your tone.
The wrapping fell away, and you froze.
Books.
Not flowers — books.
Four, no, five of them, each title graced with the name of a flower—The Language of Lilies, By the Rose Garden, Wild Violets in Bloom. Your fingers skimmed the spines, tracing the embossed letters, flipping through the pages as disbelief washed through you like steady waves. The realization struck like a slow dawn breaking over the horizon.
You flipped one open, the delicate rustle of pages filling the quiet room. And there, scrawled in elegant script on the inside cover—your name.
You opened another. And another. Each one the same, and each made your heart stutter.
A laugh—soft, disbelieving—escaped your lips, your fingers tracing over the pages as a delicate warmth unfurled in your chest.
"Oh, he is so charming…" you whispered to yourself, shaking your head.
Your earlier judgment of him wavered, crumbling ever so slightly, and that made you feel truly relieved.
Mornings at the manor was always a quiet affair, a tranquility that settled into the bones like a well-worn melody. You reveled in it, taking in the stillness as you descended the grand staircase, your footsteps muffled against the plush carpet. You hadn’t planned on anything out of the ordinary, just a simple breakfast before retreating to your study, but as you entered the dining hall, your gaze landed on an unexpected presence at the head of the table.
Your father.
It had been a while since you last saw him at breakfast. Duty often pulled him away early. But today, he sat in his usual place, sipping his tea, eyes warm as they met yours.
“Good morning, my dear,” he greeted, setting his cup down with a quiet clink.
“Good morning, Father,” you responded, slipping into the seat beside from him. “It’s been some time since we shared a morning meal.”
He chuckled. “Far too long, I’d say. But I’m here now.” A pause. “And I have something to discuss with you.”
You raised a brow, waiting.
“The Academy is hosting a gathering soon. An evening party,” he explained. “It might be in your best interest to attend. There are people—important individuals—who would take great interest in your work.”
The Academy. The very heart of knowledge, innovation, and education in the country. A place that held both opportunity and scrutiny in equal measure.
“Connections,” he continued, cutting into his meal with his silverwares. “They can open doors for you. Doors that even your talent alone might take years to unlock.”
You tapped a finger idly against the table, considering. It wasn’t that you feared the whispers or the disdain of those who thought a woman had no place in intellectual circles. You had endured far worse. But the idea of making strategic alliances, of meeting those who truly saw you beyond the title of ‘Lady’—that was something worth contemplating.
Your father must have sensed your hesitation. “Of course,” he said, “there will be those who will sneer. But you can handle them, can’t you?”
You scoffed softly. “That goes without saying.”
He smiled, a rare softness in his gaze. “Then come. With me there, no one will dare lay a finger on you.”
The evening air was crisp as your carriage pulled up to the grand banquet hall of the Academy. You stepped out, fingers resting lightly on your father’s offered arm. The midnight blue of your gown shimmered under the golden glow of lanterns, understated yet commanding. You had no desire to stand at the center of attention, yet you knew the moment you stepped through those doors, eyes would turn.
And they did.
It was something you had long grown accustomed to—the force of scrutiny, admiration, curiosity—all blended together in an awkward blend of cacophony. You held your chin high as you walked beside your father, nodding politely to those who acknowledged you. The hall was a grand expanse of polished floors, glittering chandeliers, and the hum of intellectual conversation. A world of scholars, professors, and thinkers—something about the ambiance made your nerves jitter.
Your father led you through the crowd, stopping before a man who bore an air of elegant authority and importance.
“Han Sohyun,” your father introduced, “one of the Academy’s finest minds.”
The older gentleman turned to you, eyes bright with interest. “Ah, at last. The young lady of the Kang family.”
You inclined your head in greeting. “A pleasure to meet you, Lord Han.”
“The pleasure is mine,” he said warmly. “I must say, I’m quite an admirer of your work.”
That gave you pause. You had expected the usual pleasantries, the carefully measured words that spoke of tolerance rather than genuine appreciation. But there was sincerity in his tone. Your father was right.
“You have read my works?”
“Of course,” he replied, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Your insights on historical literature are fascinating. I dare say your writing carries a depth many scholars fail to achieve.”
You blinked. Praise was not unfamiliar, but to hear it from someone of his stature, in a space dominated by men who often dismissed you, was something else entirely.
Through the course of conversation, you found yourself engaged in discussions more stimulating than you had anticipated. Han Sohyun introduced you to others, opening doors to connections you had never thought possible. But the moment that struck you most was when he mentioned his daughter.
“She looks up to you, you know,” he said softly once the conversation mellowed around you. “Your work, your defiance in the face of societal expectations—it inspires her.”
A slow warmth spread through your chest. You had never sought validation, but to know that your words had reached someone, had made an impact—it was an accomplishment in its own right.
The night wore on, and eventually, you excused yourself from your father’s side, seeking a moment’s reprieve in the garden. The air outside was cool, a welcome contrast to the warmth of the banquet hall. You breathed in deeply, exhaling the tension that had expectedly settled in your shoulders after engaging in conversations with people of high statuses.
The soft murmur of conversation from the banquet hall faded behind you, replaced by the rhythmic rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. The sky stretched endlessly above, an ocean of inky blue speckled with silver stars. It was these moments of solitude that you always sought and loved.
Then, from the corner of your eye, you noticed a figure—nearly obscured beneath a canopy of pink bougainvillea. It was easy to miss him, sitting on the ground, lost in the shadows. But you caught the faint silhouette of tousled hair, the gentle rise and fall of his breath. You blinked in surprise.
You took a few steps closer before speaking, your voice breaking the quiet. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
Beomgyu startled slightly, turning his head up to look at you. Under the soft glow of the garden lanterns, his expression shifted from surprise to soft acknowledgment—underlying with the impression that he too wasn't expecting you here. “Ah,” he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck, “just taking a break. Talks of politics and wealth suffocate me.”
Of course, he'd be invited. That man is no less than a scholar himself, so his presence in such a banquet is far more natural than yours.
You hesitated, glancing toward the direction of the party. “I should go,” you murmured, not quite meeting his gaze. “Being seen with me might taint your reputation, and I wouldn’t want that.”
Beomgyu tilted his head, an easy smile playing on his lips. “Then it makes the two of us, my lady. I fear I’ve already given the lords the impression that I’m uninterested in their conversations.” He patted the ground beside him, an invitation. “Stay, if you’d like.”
After a moment’s deliberation, you lowered yourself to sit beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you. The pavement beneath was cool, but the warmth of his presence nearby was enough to keep the chill at bay.
“Thank you for the flowers,” you said, a teasing lilt in your voice as you turned to him. “Even I could never think of such an idea.”
Beomgyu chuckled softly, tilting his head ever so slightly. “As long as my lady likes them, I’m glad.”
“It was brilliant, truly. You…” You paused, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the lace trim of your gloves. “You broke my expectations.”
His eyes gleamed with curiosity, the corner of his lips curling into a coy smile. “Expectations?”
Realizing your blunder, you quickly averted your gaze, feigning interest in the pebbles near your feet. “Never mind,” you muttered.
A hum was his only response. Beomgyu then exhaled softly before speaking again, his voice thoughtful. “Truthfully, I had considered getting you actual flowers at first,” he admitted. “But then I thought… you might appreciate books more.” He hesitated, then added, almost sheepishly, “If you’d prefer flowers, I can get you some next time as well.”
Your eyes flickered to him with interest, and you let out a soft hum, squinting your eyes slightly. “Next time?” you echoed playfully, watching as his expression froze. “Does that mean you plan to cause more trouble, Lord Choi?”
His lips parted, his entire posture stiffening. “Ah—n-no, that’s not what I meant,” he stammered, his usual composure unraveling in an instant. “I just meant if—if another occasion arose, then perhaps—”
A laugh bubbled past your lips, light and genuine. “It was truly brilliant,” you said, cutting off his flustered attempt at salvaging his words.
Beomgyu blinked at you, still visibly flustered, but the tension melted from his shoulders when he saw the sincerity in your smile. A faint pink dusted his cheeks, but this time, he simply let out a breath and returned your smile, no longer trying to argue his case.
You looked skyward before continuing the conversation. “I heard you’ve been out of town for studies.”
He nodded, resting his arms over his bent knees. “Yes, I spent some time abroad—studying history, literature, philosophy. They teach you many things, but true understanding is something you must seek yourself.”
You hummed in thought. “And did you find it?”
He smiled, gaze fixed on the garden path ahead. “I found pieces of it. Enough to know that knowledge is not merely in books, but in the way people think, the way they live. That is why I enjoy conversations like this.”
You found yourself intrigued. “Like this?”
He turned slightly, his gaze meeting yours. “With people who see the world not as it is, but as it could be.”
Your heart stilled for a moment, caught off guard by his words. He spoke like a scholar, yet he listened like a poet—absorbing every nuance, every thought, as if committing them to memory. You had met many learned men, but few who dissected knowledge with the same precision you did. With him, a conversation felt like not a battle to be won but a world to be shaped.
Beomgyu suddenly let out a soft laugh. “Good heavens, where are my manners? I made a lady sit with me on the dirt.” Rising to his feet, he extended a hand toward you. “There’s a lake just ahead. Would you like to take a look?”
You studied him for a moment. The moonlight cast a glow on his features—soft yet sharp. Slowly, you placed your gloved hand in his, allowing him to pull you to your feet.
As you walked toward the lake, the conversation flowed naturally. You spoke of your works, your manuscripts, your ambition. Beomgyu listened intently, never once interrupting, his eyes reflecting a hushed understanding. Only when you finished did he finally speak, his voice steady and thoughtful.
“You place strong emphasis on class disparity in your work,” he noted. “It’s a subject most fear to touch, let alone dissect so boldly.”
You turned to him, taken aback. “You’ve read my work?”
“I sought it out after hearing your name,” he admitted. “And now, hearing you speak of it—” he exhaled, shaking his head with an almost reverent mirth,“—I find your perspective fascinating. You don’t just write about injustice. You challenge its very foundation.”
A thrill ran through you, unexpected and electrifying. “That is precisely my intent,” you said, excitement creeping into your tone. “Change does not come from mere observation but from questioning the structures that uphold it.”
He nodded, a slow, approving motion. “And you do it masterfully.”
For the first time in a long while, you felt truly understood. His words held meaning, his perspective aligning with yours so precisely it startled you. You found yourself leaning in, captivated, speaking with a kind of excitement you hadn't felt in a long time. So immersed were you in your exchange that you failed to notice the figure approaching—only realizing when a voice, far too chipper, cut through the moment.
“Ah! Lady Kang! I was hoping to run into you tonight.”
You and Beomgyu halted in your tracks. The man before you bowed, hat in hand, a smile stretched wide across his face.
“Harvard Park,” he introduced himself with a glint in his pale blue eyes. “I wished to have your company for the night.” He trailed off, his gaze shifting to Beomgyu before adding, “Though it seems you are already busy.”
He ignored Beomgyu entirely after that, setting his eyes back on you. "I had the pleasure of speaking with your father earlier," he began, his voice velvety smooth. "We discussed matters of great importance, and naturally, your name arose."
You arched a brow, fingers tightening against your sides. "Oh?"
"Indeed," Harvard continued, his tone warm, but there was no mistaking the condescension beneath it. "Your accomplishments are nothing short of admirable. A woman of your intellect and ambition is a rare gem in our society." He exhaled, tilting his head just so. "It is for that very reason that I could not help but consider—our families share an esteemed reputation. With such a union, the benefits would be undeniable."
Your stomach twisted. A union.
Harvard’s smile never wavered. "Of course, I hold the greatest respect for your work. In fact, I daresay you would find far fewer obstacles with the right… support. A name that commands respect, a presence that ensures you are received with the dignity you deserve."
The words alone would have merely irked you. You had long grown accustomed to such insults, wrapped in the guise of concern. But tonight—tonight, standing here before Beomgyu, being reduced to nothing more than a woman in need of a husband—you felt something far worse.
The sharp sting of humiliation settled deep in your chest, curling its way through your ribs like an iron vice. You had been spoken down to before, belittled with pretty words wrapped in condescension, but never in front of someone like Beomgyu. Never in front of someone who had truly listened to you, who had met your thoughts with his own rather than dismissing them. And perhaps that was what made the shame unbearable. Anger was there too, simmering beneath your skin, but it was the humiliation that cut the deepest. Not because of Park’s words, but because Beomgyu had heard them.
The initial flicker of anger threatened to boil over, but before you could gather the words to retaliate, Beomgyu moved.
“An interesting proposition, Lord Park,” Beomgyu’s voice was polite—too polite. “A man must be truly confident in himself to assume his presence is necessary for a lady’s success.”
Harvard’s gaze flickered to him, his mask of charm twitching ever so slightly. "I only speak of what is advantageous for her. Surely, you would not argue that in this world, influence holds great power."
Beomgyu hummed, his lips tilting in a way that did not quite reach his eyes. "Ah, but the assumption remains—who, my lord, decided that Lady Kang requires an alliance to achieve what she already has on her own?"
Harvard stiffened. "That is not what I—"
"But it is what you implied," Beomgyu cut in smoothly, his tone carrying the faintest trace of amusement, as though he were merely indulging an amusing conversation rather than dismantling the man’s carefully chosen words. "And it is rather odd, don’t you think, my lord? That you speak of marriage as a means of assistance, as though Lady Kang were incapable of success on her own?" His voice turned almost pitying, his fingers loosely clasped behind his back. "I wonder, then, is it truly her best interests you have in mind? Or is it simply your pride seeking to lay claim to something beyond your reach?
Harvard blinked, caught off guard, but Beomgyu stepped forward, the polite smile never leaving his face, yet something in his presence had shifted. “It is rather unseemly to speak of marriage as if it were a business transaction, especially without first considering if the lady herself desires it.”
You were silent, eyes widening a fraction at Beomgyu’s sudden change in demeanor. His frame now stood before you, as if shielding you from the shrewd man's line of sight in every possible way.
“Tell me, my lord, does it soothe your ego to believe that a woman’s achievements are only half-formed without a man?”
“I merely thought—”
“That much is clear,” Beomgyu cut in, and though his voice remained even, there was an unmistakable edge beneath it. “But thinking is not the same as knowing, my lord. Perhaps it would serve you well to learn the difference.”
Harvard’s face darkened. “And who the hell are you to speak so boldly?” he spat, his gaze finally locking to Beomgyu, hostility simmering beneath the surface.
The moment his attention veered from you to Beomgyu, something sharp curled in your chest. No. If anyone would take his disdain, it would be you. Not Beomgyu.
You stepped forward with commanding grace, your eyes narrowing as they settled on Harvard. The sheer weight of your icy gaze made him flinch, his jaw tightening. Then, turning to Beomgyu, you allowed your eyes to soften as you slipped your hand through the crook of his arm, feeling the warmth of him even through layers of fabric.
“A like-minded ally,” you said, your voice soft but filled with firmness, meeting Harvard’s gaze once more. “My like-minded ally.”
The words settled in the space between you, and though your intent was to shield Beomgyu, you felt the weight of them in your own chest.
Harvard’s lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze flickering between the two of you. He seemed to realize then that any further argument would only see him losing more of his dignity. With a clipped nod and a forced smile, he stepped back. “Well, it seems I have interrupted something. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Lady Kang.” He barely spared Beomgyu a glance before he sauntered away, vanishing into the dark.
The silence he left behind was heavy, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the night breeze. You exhaled slowly, only then realizing how tightly your fingers had curled around Beomgyu’s arm. You loosened your grip instinctively, but before you could step back, you heard the muffled sound of a breathy laugh.
Beomgyu had raised a hand to his face, covering his mouth as he stifled a whine. Your brows furrowed in alarm. “Are you alright?”
His shoulders trembled slightly before he let out a small, breathless chuckle. “I think my heart is still racing from the adrenaline.” He dropped his hand from his face, revealing an exhilarated grin, his eyes glinting with something unrestrained and bright. “That was—ah, how do I even put it? Worth it.”
His reaction caught you off guard, and before you knew it, laughter bubbled up from your own lips, the tension of the moment unraveling between you. But then, just as the laughter began to settle, he turned to you, his grin shifting into something more mischievous as he squinted playfully.
“Your like-minded ally, huh?” he echoed, tilting his head with mock curiosity.
Your breath hitched. Ah. You had said that, hadn’t you? The realization sent a sudden flurry of warmth crawling up your neck. You hastily withdrew your hand from his arm, stepping back as you cleared your throat. “I—” You hesitated, searching for an excuse, before settling on a weak, “I didn’t think through it enough.”
Beomgyu merely hummed, watching you with keen amusement. Then, with a grin that was entirely too pleased, he said, “I like the title.”
You gave a small nod, sighing as you faced the other way—but it was an attempt to hide the shuddering breath of your unsteady heart. "You can have it then," you said, your voice quieter, almost hesitant.
A shy smile graced Beomgyu’s lips, and neither of you said anything more. The silence that fell upon you two afterwards was anything but uncomfortable. And so, with nothing else to say, he fell into step beside you, walking you back toward the banquet hall.
The golden glow of chandeliers from the hall beckoned you forward, but the cool night air still clung to your skin, refusing to let you forget what had transpired in the garden.
From then on, things began to change between the two of you. Beomgyu became a constant presence—not just as your brother’s tutor, but as someone who you allowed to linger by the bookshelves of your study. He had a way of drawing you into lighthearted debates, weaving questions into conversation as naturally as breathing. When he finished tutoring early, you found yourselves lost in discussions about renowned authors and intricate philosophies, often taking slow strolls through the garden instead of your usual solitary walks, other times in your study—your place on your desk and his on one of the crescent seats around the windows.
Whether he was leaving for the night, walking beside you in the garden, or merely passing by, he would always leave you with something—a thought, a paradox, a moral dilemma—waiting to see how you would respond. And you indulged him, seeing it as an opportunity to understand the way the world in his mind worked.
It was this—his ability to challenge without belittling, to disagree yet still listen, to turn every conversation into an adventure—that made something in you begin to unravel. You weren’t used to it, having a companion like this. Someone who didn’t just hear you but actually cared about what you had to say.
Someone who felt like freedom.
Your newest book had been published, and this time, the reaction was different. The response from the public was far more positive than before, largely due to the younger generation embracing your work with fervor. The lords and ladies from Lennox’s foreboding predictions scoffed at the shift in reception, but their disdain soon faded beneath the overwhelming tide of support in your favor. It was a success beyond what you had imagined.
With this newfound triumph came opportunities—an invitation extended through Han Sohyun to meet with renowned publishers, editors, and authors. It required travel to another town, forcing a temporary pause in your meetings with Beomgyu. A necessary parting, but one that left an aching emptiness in its wake.
The journey proved worthwhile. Discussions with influential figures broadened your perspectives, and you found yourself standing at the precipice of a career breakthrough. It was exhilarating.
During your trip, you wandered into an antique bookstore, allowing yourself a moment of quiet amidst the whirlwind of obligations. Han Sohyun accompanied you, his gaze wandering over the spines as you perused the selection.
Shelves lined with tomes both familiar and foreign surrounded you, the scent of aged paper settling like a comforting presence. Then, in an unassuming corner, your eyes fell upon a rare edition of a book you cherished. The very same edition that sat in your own collection at home.
You ran your fingers along its spine, and an old memory surfaced—your first encounter with Beomgyu in your study. The way he had paused before your bookshelves, fingers grazing the worn leather bindings, fond eyes marvelling at this very book with reverence. He had mentioned it then, an offhand comment, but you had taken note.
Sohyun noticed your interest, stepping closer to glance at the book. "Ah, an excellent choice," he mused, nodding in appreciation. "Are you getting it for yourself? Allow me to pay for it then, dear. Consider it a gift."
You let out a soft laugh. "That's kind of you, but I’ll get this one myself."
“My dear, may I ask why?"
Your fingers traced the edge of the cover, a quiet fondness slipping into your expression. "Because it’s for someone else."
Sohyun regarded you for a moment before nodding knowingly, a small smile tugging on his lips. "I see. Then I’ll let you have the honor."
Without another thought, you reached for the book. You already owned a copy, but this one—this one would be for him.
Beomgyu had not expected your absence to weigh on him as much as it did.
He still visited your home as per his responsibilities, tutoring your younger brother with the same patience and attentiveness as always. But the moments after—when the lessons ended and silence filled the spaces you once occupied—felt different. He had grown accustomed to lingering in your presence, to the ease of conversation that followed each lesson, whether in the study or the garden, debating over literature or philosophy. Without you there, the house felt quieter, and he found himself leaving earlier than usual.
Even the study, which had once become a shared space, now felt off-limits. Though you had given him permission to peruse your collection, he refrained from entering, unwilling to intrude in your absence. Instead, if he truly needed to sate his love for books, he opted for the grand library, often in the quiet company of your family’s elderly butler. Perhaps it was because he disliked being alone, or perhaps it was because the library did not hold the same presence of you that the study did.
At home, when he spoke of the things that stirred his mind or brought him joy, he found your name slipping into conversations more often than he realized. It was an unconscious habit, one he didn’t notice until his mother smiled knowingly at him, or until his older brother teased him for it. He didn’t try to stop himself. Because, for the first time, he had found someone who truly challenged him, someone who met his thoughts with sharp wit and undeniable intellect.
The men who pursued you spoke of your beauty, your grace, your lineage, but not of you. They admired the idea of you, the status you carried, the wealth you could bring, the refinement they could boast of having at their side. But Beomgyu—he did not look at you and see a prize to be won. He saw the sharp wit behind your words, the fire in your convictions, the quiet moments where your gaze softened, the laughter you tried to hide when something amused you more than you cared to show.
The difference was clear: they wanted what you could offer; he wanted you.
The lesson took place in the garden that afternoon, a change of setting Beomgyu often employed to keep the lessons lively rather than dull. He walked beside your brother, listening to his recitations, but his focus wavered. A jittery sort of anticipation thrummed beneath his skin, making him more restless than usual.
Your brother took notice. “You keep glancing toward the gate.”
Beomgyu blinked, caught off guard by the sudden remark. “Do I?”
His student hummed, hands clasped behind his back as he considered Beomgyu carefully. “Looking forward to my sister’s return?”
There was a teasing lilt to his voice that made Beomgyu falter. He cleared his throat, suddenly self-conscious. “Well, she’s been away for some time. It’s only natural—”
“Oh dear,” your brother sighed dramatically. “Have I unraveled a secret?” The teasing lilt his voice carried was familiar, one that reminded Beomgyu far too much of you.
Beomgyu narrowed his eyes but smiled despite himself. "You have a rather mischievous streak. I wonder where you get it from."
The younger one merely grinned. But beneath the playful prodding, there was something else—a careful sort of observance.
Truthfully, he had been studying Beomgyu for some time now—ever since he noticed the way you carried yourself differently around him. He had watched many men attempt to gain your favor, had seen the way you deflected and dismissed them with ease. Yet, with Beomgyu, you were comfortable. He did not know what had changed, or why, but he wanted to see for himself what kind of man had managed to chip away at his sister’s walls.
And though he was younger, though it was you who always shielded him from harm, he had always carried the strong sense of responsibility of ensuring your happiness. If Beomgyu had earned your trust, then he too would extend his own—but not without caution.
“You know,” your brother mused, “you’re good company to my sister. It seems she enjoys your presence. I only hope she is not disappointed in the future.”
For all his youth, there was weight to his words, carrying the warning of a brother who truly loved his sister. Beomgyu stilled, taken aback. A slow exhale left him before he offered a small smile, touched by the sentiment.
“The young master need not worry,” Beomgyu said, voice laced with quiet sincerity. “If I ever bring her disappointment… then you will have the freedom to teach me a lesson.”
He snorted. “Alright, that’s a bit too far. I couldn’t possibly do that to my tutor—my mother would have my head…”
He trailed off mid-sentence, eyes shifting past Beomgyu’s shoulder. His expression lit up, bright and unmistakably fond. Beomgyu followed his gaze.
There, in the distance, standing at the entrance to the garden, was you.
Your brother wasted no time, running forward to meet you. You welcomed him with open arms, letting him embrace you tightly before murmuring, “I missed you, too, Sungcheol.”
Your eyes lifted then, landing on Beomgyu. He stood a few paces away, offering you a small smile. Seeing you again, after so long, made the jittery restlessness in his chest settle.
You were back.
Once your brother finally released you, you informed him that you had brought back gifts from your trip, leaving them with Maya for him to retrieve later.
Sungcheol gasped dramatically. “Why did you not say so earlier?” He turned to Beomgyu, expectant. “Sir, might we take a break?”
Beomgyu nodded, chuckling. “I don’t suppose I have a choice.”
With a quick bow, Sungcheol scurried off, leaving the two of you alone amidst the garden’s blooming roses. Beomgyu took a deep breath, allowing himself to fully take you in after not seeing you for all these days.
“You’re back.” It was barely above a murmur, but there was something beneath it—something that wavered between relief and hesitation.
A breath, and then, you smiled. “I am.”
Standing before each other again, days after your departure, the air between you felt foreign in a pleasant way. The absence had carved its presence between you both, making this moment heavier than either of you had anticipated. It wasn't just time that had passed; it was the steady realization of how much you had grown used to each other, and how much you've missed each other.
You studied him, searching for signs of change in his expression. Beomgyu, on the other hand, felt his breath falter. You were here, standing in front of him, and though he had imagined your return countless times, he hadn't accounted for the way relief would crash into him like a wave.
Without preamble, you reached into your bag and pulled out the book—the rare edition you had found during your trip. "Here," you said, holding it out to him. "I saw this and thought of you."
Beomgyu stared at it, his mind momentarily blank. He recognized the title instantly. His fingers hesitated before finally brushing against the cover, and for a moment, he was transported back to your study, to that first conversation, to the fleeting mention of this very book—a comment he had never expected you to remember. A moment supposed to be lost in time.
"You didn't have to..." he started, voice uncharacteristically quiet, but you shook your head, cutting off whatever words he had been scrambling to find.
“I wanted to,” you countered, your voice softer now, carrying a certainty that left little room for argument. “If anyone deserves this treasure, it’s you.”
Beomgyu had been raised on the belief that actions spoke louder than words. It was a principle he had carried with him, one he lived by. He never expected anything in return for what he gave—never sought acknowledgment, never yearned for reciprocity. And yet, here you were, proving him wrong. This single gesture, filled with such thoughtfulness, left him feeling unsteady.
The book in his hand wasn't just ink and paper carrying timeless history within, it was a proof that you had listened, that you had remembered, that you had thought of him even when he hadn’t been there. The epiphany pressed against the walls of his ribs, too much to hold, too much to release. Beomgyu felt as though he had forgotten how to breathe.
"Congratulations," Beomgyu finally spoke, his voice even despite the erratic beating of his pulse. He tried to ease the restless energy in his chest by focusing on you instead. "Your book’s release—it’s quite the achievement."
You offered him a small smile, gratitude evident in your expression. "Thank you."
A beat passed before he tilted his head, a teasing lilt creeping into his tone. "Do I get the privilege of having my copy signed? Seeing as I’m close allies with the author herself?"
You pretended to consider it, eyes gleaming with mischief. "I’ll think about it."
A soft scoff escaped him, an amused shake of his head following. The freedom that followed from your return into his life once more felt just right, felt like he had been welcomed back into a home he had been searching for his entire life.
The last embers of autumn clung to the trees, their gold and amber hues slowly surrendering to the creeping frost that laced the edges of the world. Yet the air did not feel cold—not when warmth had settled between the newfound company you had found in each other.
Everything felt right.
But somewhere in the distance, seated in the grand living room of his manor with a copy of your book in hand, a pair of pale blue eyes ensured that nothing would remain that way for long.
step brother!lee heeseung x reader [afab] x brother's best friend!yang jungwon
[read the first part here]
genre: smut
concept: after a whirlwind summer of lust, going back to university has you sure you have everything under control. that is until a little slip of your tongue lands you in a pool of hot water. the question is, how are you going to get out of it with both relationships intact?
w/c: 14k
warning: family conversations, uni au, fake (?) dating, partying, drinking, recreational drug mention, stepcest, surprise ending; sexually explicit content, big dick!heeseung & jungwon, multiple positons, multiple partners, double penetration, oral [m. & f. receiving], *road head, sexualization of familial titles [baby sister, oppa, big brother, etc.], bdsm dynamics, sexual punishment, spanking, pain kink, rough sex, degradation, **unprotected sex, creampie
“Hey.” You turn away from your girlfriends to see Heeseung at your back, his hand on the back of your chair. It takes everything in you not to lean up and kiss him in front of everyone. His earring keeps glinting under the fluorescent cafe lights as it sways and he’s staring down at you so intently. You swallow, tilting your head up at him. His eyes dart to your lips and you bite your lip, noticing while hoping no one else did. “Eomma just texted me that she and dad are going to be at work late tonight. Real late, like pouring themselves into bed around dawn late.” You roll your eyes and Heeseung smiles. “So, usual dinner?”
“Yeah, sure,” you reply and Heeseung tilts his head slightly, smile turning sharp around the edges.
Usual dinner. It’s just a code the three of you came up with about late nights where the house is all yours. Your parents are still working late nights, they haven’t changed even a little over the course of the summer, which means that you have full nights where it’s just the two of you. Well, just the three of you, really.
“Cool. See you tonight, baby sister.” You reach over, slapping him on the shoulder, making him laugh. He pushes off from your chair, walking away from the table. You watch him go, realizing that he’s far from alone. Jay, Sunghoon and Jungwon are with him and when they walk away Jay and Sunghoon both offer you a word. You wave while Jungwon rests a hand on your shoulder briefly. You watch him walk away, Jungwon glancing back at you before falling into step with Sunghoon as they all leave.
“Baby sister?” Kazuha says and you look over at your friends. She and Yunjin are looking at you in confusion. “You’re three years younger than him and he’s barely your brother. What’s that about?”
“Ah, it’s just a nickname,” you tell them, tucking your hair behind your ear, shaking your head to yourself. “I told him to knock it off but… I dunno, he just does it. He thinks it’s cute or whatever. I mean, I call him oppa,” you reason out and Yunjin shakes her head at you.
“Oppa is so different. I mean, girls call their boyfriends oppa.” You bite your tongue inside your mouth. “Anyway, the real question is, how the hell do you focus in your own fucking house?” Yunjin asks and you roll your eyes while she and Kazuha both look out the cafe windows. You hesitantly glance as well, seeing the group of guys outside the window. Jake and Sunoo have joined them now, making a loose circle with Heeseung and Jungwon standing together, Heeseung’s arm draped over Jungwon’s shoulders. “No offense, but it’s a tragedy that you’re Heeseung’s sister now. If I lived in the same house as him—” She cuts herself off, looking at you pointedly.
“Shut up,” you giggle.
“No, unnie’s right,” Kazuha insists. “It’s too bad. You know,” she leans forward onto the table, “now that I’m thinking about it, I totally understand why you wanted out of that house. I mean, Heeseung is a lot to look at but Jungwon was staying with you?” You nod, willing your expression to remain blank. “He’s cute too and you don’t have to feel bad about that kind of eye candy.”
“Zuha!” You say, reaching over to shove her shoulder.
“No, no, she’s right,” Yunjin tells you, resting a hand on your arm. “I mean, Heeseung’s totally off limits but Jungwon? Girl, you should’ve worked that angle. You should’ve walked around in a towel and no fucking panties when your ‘big brother’ wasn’t around,” she says, mocking the title of ‘big brother.’ If only they knew.
“You guys are being so inappropriate right now,” you say as if that isn’t half of what you were doing while your parents were on their honeymoon. “Jungwon’s one of his best friends.”
“So?” Kazuha points out. “Honestly, even if you weren’t Heeseung’s sister, he would be a better option anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
Kazuha and Yunjin share a look. It sets you on edge that they seem to know something you don’t. It’s strange because everyone on campus seems to know everything there is to know about Heeseung, Jungwon and their friend group. They’re a popular group of guys, after all. Handsome, fit, smart, athletic, they have everything going for them, of course they have a following, girls and guys that act like groupies. Sometimes university isn’t that much more different than high school and there’s a certain weight given to social currency, of which you have little. Not that it matters much to you.
“Surely you know that Heeseung goes to parties,” Yunjin says and you nod. So many times when he first moved in Heeseung would sneak in and out of the house, the stairs creaking and his bedroom door opening and closing at the wee hours of the morning on the weekends. “Well, it’s been said that he has a habit of going out and hooking up with girls. You know, cheerleaders, dance team members and such.” She lifts a brow and looks at Kazuha. Kazuha glances and then does a double take, jerking back in surprise.
“Not me!” She says, putting a hand on her chest. “I’d never!” Kazuha insists, then looks at you. “But I can’t say… other girls on the team haven’t.” You lift a brow, expectant. “I don’t know!” She tells you, lifting her hands in surrender. “I don’t ask about the other girls’ sex lives.”
“Just saying,” Yunjin chirps. “He’s been known to, uh… get around, so to speak.”
“Okay, but how true is that?” You ask. “And even if it is, that was last year. It’s a new school year and I haven’t heard him sneaking in or out at all since the school year started.” Not that he has to, your brain supplies unhelpfully. If he is in the habit of sleeping around, with you right next door he doesn’t have to anymore. It makes your stomach turn, the idea of being ‘easy pickings’ for your new found step brother. Is that all you really are?
“I dunno,” Yunjin admits. “It’s just been said, that’s all.”
They don’t pick the topic of your step brother or his friends back up but it does sit around in your brain for the rest of the day. You have a hard time even focusing in your classes, tapping your pen against the pages of your notebook, zoning out and staring into space. Your mind trails back to the summer, hours spent fooling around with the two of them.
Your fingers are forced to grip the edge of the sink as Heeseung presses a hand down in the middle of your back, between your shoulders, bending you over the countertop. His other hand is gripping your hip, forcing your hips back against his as he thrusts his hips forward, burying himself inside of you. Your eyes are rolling back, your shorts around your knees while his sweats are pooled around his ankles.
“That’s it, baby. Take that fucking cock. Take it so well, don’t you?” He teases you, biting his lower lip as he pounds inside of you, your whole body shaking with the strength of his thrusts. The counter is the only thing keeping you upright against his brutal thrusts, the intensity with which he’s taking you.
“Such a good girl,” Jungwon mutters into the valley of your chest as you rock on his cock, your knees pressing into the couch cushions, your legs spread on his lap. His hands are digging into your thighs as he kisses your chest, your arms wrapped around his neck, cradling his head to your skin. His sweats are stretched around his thighs while your clothes have been discarded on the floor, leaving you naked while he’s still mostly dressed.
“C’mon, c’mon,” you whine, picking up the pace. His mouth drifts across your chest, wrapping his lips around your nipple. “Jungwon!” You yelp when he bites down, tugging softly. When you look down he looks up at you, eyes dark. He leans forward again, sucking at your tit as his eyes close, his other hand coming up to play with your other nipple, twisting and pulling at it. “Oh, god,” you groan, tipping your head back as you start to bounce desperately on him.
Your arms are shaking, trying to keep yourself above Jungwon as he splits you open on his cock, sweat beading along your hairline, in the creases of your joints as Heeseung slowly starts to push into your ass. Your eyes roll back as Jungwon smirks up at you, legs parted around your hips while Heeseung braces himself with a hand on your shoulder, the other on your hip. You feel so full, both of them pushing so deep inside of you, the pressure too much on both sides of your walls. You’re practically trembling between them, trying to stave off the orgasm that’s building inside of you.
“Close,” you whimper out.
“Oh, baby, we just started,” Jungwon tells you, kissing your collarbone.
“It’s gonna be a long night for you if you’re gonna come for us already,” Heeseung warns you, pushing in to the hilt. You flinch, shaking through the pleasure pulsing through you. It’s all so much, the heat wrapping you as they both lean into your space, so close, so deep inside of you. Both of them experimentally thrust into you and you nearly collapse on top of Jungwon, Heeseung’s hands the only things keeping up hovering above him.
“Miss. Y/L/N,” your professor calls out and you blink out of your stupor, trying to swallow down the desire in your throat, ignoring the wetness dampening your panties. “No opinion?” Your professor asks.
“I’m sorry?” You reply.
“You usually have an opinion on this topic. Not today?” They ask and you shake your head.
“No, not today.”
You take the bus back to the house after your classes that evening and lean your head against the window. The bumping of the bus keeps you alert but still your brain drifts away from you. It seems to be constantly doing that lately. It’s like all you can think about lately is them.
“Don’t take your eyes off the road,” you warn Heeseung, unbuckling your seatbelt. Heeseung glances at you from the corner of his eye, driving down the highway towards Sokcho, towards the guest house. You, however, lean over the center console, hands creeping over his thighs.
“What’re you doing?” he asks, but doesn’t look away from the road. His fingers flex on the steering wheel as you palm his cock, leaning down over his lap. “Baby sis- oh!” His eyes widen, hips jumping in surprise as you pull open his shorts, pulling his cock out. “Oh my God, I’m driving,” he says, breath turning heavy as he white knuckles the steering wheel.
“Never heard of road head?” You comment. “Don’t crash,” you tease him and then wrap your lips around the tip. Heeseung bites back a groan, trying to keep his foot steady on the gas pedal as you slowly take more and more of him into your mouth. You swallow around him, hands on his thighs to steady yourself as you start to bob your head in the narrow space between his lap and the steering wheel. Heeseung takes a hand off the wheel to rest it on the back of your head, trying to force you further down. You gag but do as he directs, breathing through your nose to open up your throat, taking as much of him as you can.
“That’s it,” he groans, fingers fisting in your hair. “Take all that cock. So eager for my cock, you’ll suck my dick in the car. What a filthy fucking cockslut.” You moan and he shivers. “Ah, fuck,” Heeseung moans. Your fingers dig into his thighs, slurping wetly around his cock, the salty flavor of precum coating your tongue as he gets harder, swelling and pulsing against the roof of your mouth.
You don’t know how long you’ve been sucking him, for how long he’s been driving, when he curses and the car turns abruptly. You pull back, looking out the windshield to see him pull off on the shoulder. You smirk to yourself, leaning back to let Heeseung put the car in park. He turns to you then.
“Well,” he says. “Finish what you started,” he tells you, cock throbbing between his thighs under the steering wheel. You lean over the console and take him into your mouth again, this time Heeseung putting his hands on the back of your neck and your head, forcing you further down. You choke wetly before getting used to it and taking as much of him inside as you can, the head pressing insistently against the back of our throat. “Fuck yeah,” he groans, pushing his hips up into your mouth. You press your hands down on his thighs, digging your fingers in as you swallow around him, running your tongue up and down the shaft. When he lets up you pull back to suck on just the head, moaning as his cock leaks all over your tongue. You pull back and replace your mouth with your hand, leaning towards your step brother with a smirk. “Little sister’s such a desperate little whore, isn’t she?” He asks, cupping your cheek in hand. “Can’t go a day without my cock in one of your pretty little holes.”
“You just taste so good, oppa,” you tell him. Heeseung kisses you, hissing into your mouth when you squeeze on an upstroke, circling your thumb over the head. You fuck your tongue into his mouth, Heeseung opening his mouth further to let you as you stroke him fast and hard. He groans into your mouth, fucking his hips up into the tight circle of your fingers.
“Close,” Heeseung grunts into your lips and you part from his lips, leaning back down to take him in your mouth. He drops his hand to the back of your neck again, squeezing a little bit as you bring him to the edge. “Fuck. I’m gonna come. Swallow it, baby. Swallow me down.” You lower down even further, hollowing your cheeks to suck hard. “Oh, shit.” He throbs on your tongue, hips jerking as he comes. Warm spurts of cum fill your mouth, forcing you to pull back, swallowing around him. You stroke your hand over the rest of him, squeezing up the shaft to get every last drop out of him. When you pull back you look at him, sticking your tongue out.
Heeseung takes you by the chin, tipping your head to see. Not a drop of cum remains on your tongue. He leans forward, tongue meeting yours first. You giggle, beckoning his tongue into your mouth, kissing him wet and filthy. He unbuckles his seatbelt and pushes you back into your seat, leaning over the console. He backs you up against the door, hands dropping down to your wrap, the only covering on top of your bathing suit bottoms. He hastily unties it and pushes your legs apart, pulling the crotch of your bikini bottoms aside.
“Ruining your swimsuit already?” He teases into your mouth. “Naughty.” He gets down on his elbows on the seat, pressing one leg to your chest while the other hangs over the seat into the footwell to give him room. You tilt your hips up, holding your knee with one hand while the other lands in his hair. It knocks his sunglasses off of his head as he lowers down to your cunt. He looks up at you as he buries his face into your pussy, immediately licking and sucking at your cunt. Your head tips back against the window, the glass starting to fog. You hold his head against your cunt, his mouth making quick work of you.
One of his hands comes up, two fingers pushing inside of you. You moan, eyes closed as he starts to finger you, the sound of your wet cunt loud in the cabin of his car. Aptly, Chase Atlantic starts to pour from your playlist as he sucks at your clit, curling his fingers inside of you. Your panting and moans syncs up to the song as you writhe against his face, fingers tight in his hair, pulling softly. Heeseung groans into your cunt, scraping his teeth against your clit, sending fresh waves of pleasure-pain through you.
“Close,” you gasp out. “So fucking close.” Eagerly, he fucks his fingers harder into you, dripping spit over your clit messily from his tongue, only to suck at you wetly, making a complete mess. You can feel your slick and his spit dripping down your cunt towards your ass the longer it goes on. He shoves his fingers in as deep as he can, relentlessly pressing his fingertips into your g spot when he curls his fingers up, playing you like an instrument.
“Hee—” You cut yourself off with a gasp as you come. Heeseung fucks his fingers in and out of you, forcing more and more cum out of you, coating his digits in your milky release. He sucks at your cunt, lapping at you, drinking you down. When he pulls back you finally let go of your knee, fingers slipping from his hair. He brings the fingers just inside of you up to his mouth, sucking your release off of them.
“I taste good? No, baby,” Heeseung says, licking his fingers clean. “You taste good.”
You yelp as Jungwon lands another spanking on your ass. You’re bent over his knees, your bathing suit bottoms pulled to the side to reveal the entirety of your ass cheeks to him. Your ass stings, turning red underneath his palm. He slaps your other cheek, making you whine into the couch cushion, your swimsuit bottoms getting even wetter with every slap to your burning, bruised ass.
“Have you learned your lesson?” Jungwon asks and you nod against the couch cushions. “And what have you learned?”
“Not to be so greedy,” you say, lifting your head from the cushions. He spanks you again, making you whine. “That I was naughty.” Smack! “That only filthy sluts suck cock in the car.” Smack! “That I’m a filthy cockslut and I deserve this.”
“And how many was that?”
“Twenty,” you gasp out.
“That’s a good girl. See, you can be good. You just choose not to,” Jungwon tells you. “You choose to be a filthy slut who can’t control herself. A nasty little brat.” He fists your hair in a hand, pulling your head back, arching your back where you’re bent over his knee. “Now you’re going to make it up to me.”
“Yes, Wonnie,” you agree, breathless. He shoves you off his lap, onto the floor. The hardwood floor hurts your already bruised, stinging ass but you don’t dare get back up as Jungwon drops to his knees between your legs. The huge glass windows and glass doors of the guest house cause light to pour in, allowing anyone who might be passing by the ability to look in. Jungwon doesn’t care though as he opens the front of his shorts, shoving them down to reveal his cock, hard and ruddy red, aching between his thighs. He forces your legs open, spreading you open.
“You’re gonna be a good girl for me now,” he tells you, his hands trailing from your knees to your thighs, to your swimsuit bottoms. He pulls the crotch aside, letting him align himself to your slit. You watch with bated breath as he teases his tip against your entrance, bringing his hands up to your shoulders, pushing you down against the hardwood floor. “You’re gonna stay right here and let me use this pussy. Right where anyone could see me using you. Because that’s all sluts are good for, putting on a show.” You whimper, nodding up at him. “Good girl.” His cock presses into you and your eyes roll back.
He stretches you open on him, your back arching and forcing your shoulders down into the hardwood flooring. It hurts, especially as he holds you down, keeping you pinned down to the flooring. The shiny, lacquered flooring of the guest house aches against your bare shoulders and against your tailbone as Jungwon fucks you hard and fast. It’s obvious he doesn’t care about you, he doesn’t care either way if you come, this is all for him. This is your punishment.
Your nails dig into the seams of the hardwood floor, knowing you’re not allowed to grab at him, knowing it’s supposed to hurt. Jungwon leans over you, letting go of your shoulders just to grab you by the thighs, wrapping them around his waist. It forces your hips harder into the floor, your tailbone aches, and yet you can feel pleasure pooling inside of you. The spanking already has you on edge, your pussy making obscene squelching noises around his cock as he pounds into you. You look up at the ceiling, tip your head back to look out the windows, the sun pouring down over the two of you, the green tops of the trees swaying in the breeze. It all starts to blur in your vision as you inch closer and closer to your orgasm.
“You take direction so well,” Jungwon tells you, leaning down to kiss your neck. “At least you’re good at one thing.” You whimper, arching further into him. “C’mon, baby, clench that cunt around me. Make me come, and I’ll stop. You know how to make it stop hurting.” You don’t want it to stop hurting, the hard press of him inside of you, the ache in your hips and shoulders and ass, it feels so good. Still, your cunt spasms around him, a consequence of your impending orgasm. You gasp, feeling him force himself as deep as possible inside of you, fucking his hips down into your cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out, your orgasm crashing through you. Jungwon digs his fingers into your thighs, bullying his way inside of you despite the way your cunt tenses, so tight around him he can barely thrust into you anymore. It hurts, how hard the fucks you to get over the edge, but it’s a means to an end as he finally comes inside.
“Fuck,” he groans, cock throbbing inside of you. He spills inside of you, filling you with cum. Your body finally collapses in on itself, against the floor. He drops your legs against the floor and pulls out. Streaks of white decorate his cock, cum spilling out of you onto the floor. “Good thing the guest house has hardwood floors, huh?” He comments, watching as his own cum spills onto the floor of his parents’ guest house.
You blink back to the present as the automatic voice informs you they’re approaching your stop. You get off the bus once there and head home, letting yourself inside. The inside of the house is just the same as it is every day, but you can hear someone shuffling around the kitchen and the dining room. No doubt it’s Heeseung, he’s been getting home before you this semester since he took earlier classes. You walk into the dining room to see him setting out the dinner he must’ve picked up on his way home. You pause in the doorway of the foyer, looking over at him.
“Hey,” he says, clearly knowing you’re there. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” you reply, coming into the room. “Can I ask you something?” You ask, approaching him. Heeseung looks over at you, resting a hand on the back of a chair. “It’s sort of personal,” you admit, taking your school bag off and hanging it on the back of a different chair.
“Nothing too personal for my baby sister,” he comments and you roll your eyes at him. He smirks. “What do you want to know?”
“Are you sleeping with anyone else?” You ask. Heeseung pulls back a bit, clearly surprised by your question. He crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head at you. “I only ask because… well, I don’t care if you’re sleeping with other girls but if that’s the case, maybe I should be making you wear a condom,” you suggest and Heeseung scoffs.
“Okay, first of all, I’m clean. I get tested at the campus clinic at least once a month so I’m not going to give you anything. And no way you’re gonna get me to wear a condom when I know you’re on fucking birth control. I look at that case on the bathroom counter every morning,” he points out. You shift slightly, embarrassed at being called out. “Secondly, where is this even coming from?” He asked, lifting a brow at you.
“I dunno, I just… I heard some stuff. Around campus.” Heeseung drops his arms and closes the gap between you two. “I don’t care—”
“It sounds like you care,” he says, resting a hand on your waist.
“I don’t care!” You insist, crossing your arms over your chest. Heeseung smiles at you, pulling you in by your waist. “You can sleep with whoever the fuck you want, I don’t give a shit. I mean, I slept with—” You cut yourself off when you see the look on his face, brows lowered and lips pursed. You smirk and he lifts a brow at you. “I slept with someone at the club, after all,” you add knowing how much he hates it. Heeseung digs his fingers into your waist, a silent warning. “You can sleep with whoever you want. Maybe I will too.”
“Don’t you dare,” Heeseung warns you, voice low. “You have—”
“Cock at home? You have pussy at home,” you remind him. “But who’s to say that it’s better than eating out?”
He kisses you, just a shade into painful. You smile into his lips, you love riling him up. His hands slide over your waist down to your hips, back to your ass. You lift your arms to rest on his shoulders while he digs his fingers into your ass, pulling you against him. You gasp into his mouth, letting him fuck his tongue into your mouth as he presses your hips against his. He’s already half hard, the shape of him pressing into your hip.
The sound of the door opening causes you to part from him, shoving him back. Jungwon would’ve called out but no one does, making you sure it’s one of your parents. Heeseung wipes at his mouth, adjusting himself in his jeans as he turns away from the foyer entrance. You look over just as your dad walks out into the great room, hastily toeing off his shoes.
“Hey, dad,” you greet him.
“Dad,” Heeseung greets him, shortly.
“I thought you were working late tonight,” you comment, running a hand through your hair.
“I am! Really, I am,” he says, already heading for the hallway. “Forgot some documents in my office. I’m not even here, according to the office, I’m not here!” He assures you, disappearing down the hall. You watch as he goes and once the door to his office is closed you turn to Heeseung, who looks back at you.
“I’m not sleeping with anyone,” he whispers vehemently and your eyes widen, glancing back to the hall. Heeseung takes your face in hand, turning you back to face him. “So don’t you dare try eating out on me. No one else is ever gonna taste as good as me anyway.”
“Hee—” He kisses you, making you shove him back. “Heeseung!” You scold him softly, Heeseung smirking at you. “He’s right—” He kisses you again, twice more, and then pulls back.
“I know.” You glare, turning back as the office door opens again. You turn to see your dad rushing back towards the door. “Leaving already?” Heeseung asks as though he wasn’t just kissing the man’s daughter, his step sister, less than a minute ago.
“Gotta get back to the office. You guys are good tonight?” He asks and you both nod in agreement. “Alright. Well, don’t wait up for me or your mother. Your mom has a midnight shift and I’m being bullied into going out with the guys after work.” You tilt your head at him, giving him a hard look. “I know, I know. I promise I won’t get too drunk. Home by 1, okay?”
“Okay,” you tell him. “Don’t let them bully you too hard.”
“I won’t. Bye, sweetie,” he tells you, heading out. The door closes and locks behind him. The both of you wait, listening for the tell tale sound of his car pulling away. Ten seconds later you both hear the crunch of the wheels on the driveway, the car engine getting distant. You turn back around, being greeted by Heeseung’s lips.
He grabs you by the waist, putting you on the table, standing between your legs. You wrap your arms around him as he crowds into your space, letting his mouth trail down your throat. You tip your head back, letting him kiss over your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin. Heeseung keeps going, hands going for the button of your jeans as he sucks at the base of your neck, working on a bruise that you’re sure you’re going to have to cover for the next three days.
“I have pussy at home, baby sister,” he tells you, unbuttoning your jeans and unzipping the fly. “Why would I go out for something when I already have one that tastes so fucking good.” He slides a hand into your panties, fingertips finding your clit. You moan, tipping your head further back. “Mm, maybe I’ll have dessert first tonight.”
Mornings might be the only time all of you are in the house, you and Heeseung getting ready for your classes at university while your dad drinks a pot of coffee before work and your step mother gets changed to take on another shift at the hospital. The four of you have mostly gotten used to moving around one another, you coming down from your morning shower while Heeseung is already eating breakfast, doing some last minute studying at the table. Your step mother rushes past you to prepare a thermos for her morning while your dad leans casually against the counter, checking his emails while sipping from his mug.
You go over to the table, setting your bag down on top of the table to make sure you have everything with you, your laptop and textbooks and notebooks all stacked on top of one another. You chew on your piece of toast, your fingers faltering briefly on your pencil case when you feel Heeseung’s hand on your thigh under the table.
You’re both on the other side of the table from the kitchen, hiding your legs and his hand from your parents view. You rip off a bite of toast, tossing the rest of the slice onto your plate as Heeseung strokes the backs of his fingers up and down your thigh, your shorts clearly too short. You pull your pencil case out of your bag, unzipping it to check inside. You drop it, writing utensils skittering across the floor. Everyone looks at you and Heeseung drops his hand.
“Just my pencil case, sorry,” you tell your parents, who go back to what they were doing. You drop down to your hands and knees though, halfway under the table. You collect your pencils, pens and highlighters, hastily shoving them into your pencil case. While under the table though you set your pencil case aside and run your hands up Heeseung’s thighs. Heeseung clears his throat above you but doesn’t push you away, letting you cup his clothed cock in hand, squeezing softly.
“Y/N,” your step mother calls out and you drop back to your hands and knees, popping up above the edge of the table with your pencil case in hand. “Sweetie, do you have a pair of earrings I can borrow?” She asks, touching her ear. “I couldn’t find my gold studs this morning.”
“Oh, sure,” you agree, pushing your pencil case into your school bag. “I should have a pair you can borrow.” You step around Heeseung, meeting your step mom on the other side of the kitchen island. The both of you head up the stairs together, to your room.
You give your step mom a pair of earrings of yours, simple golden studs that match the necklace she’s wearing. She sits down at your vanity to put them in and you hover nearby, waiting to see if she likes them.
“You know, Y/N,” she says and you hum, “I’m so glad that you and my son are so close.” You try not to panic, nodding in agreement. “Heeseungie’s a great kid and I was so worried when I started seeing your dad that you two wouldn’t get along. Your dad mentioned he had a daughter and we… well, we put off telling the two of you about our relationship because we were so worried you wouldn’t get along. He’s a bit older than you and you’re both in university, we worried that you wouldn’t have anything in common.” She moves to the other earring. “I’m really glad that we were worried over nothing. You and Heeseung seem like you’ve gotten really close really quickly. I mean, even his friends like you. You’re close with Jungwon too, right?”
“Yeah,” you agree.
“Anyway, I say this because,” she pauses, turning to you, “I want us to be close too. I mean, I’m glad you and Heeseung managed to build a close sibling relationship and I’m so glad you wanted to call me eomma.” You nod in agreement, smiling at her, while some semblance of guilt gnaws at your stomach lining. “But I want you to know you can tell me things. Anything, really.”
“I know I can,” you agree.
“You do?” She asks and you nod. “Okay. Even if it’s… about boys?” She asks and you swallow. “Because you know…” she taps the side of her neck and you gasp, covering the side of your neck. You thought you covered it enough, that no one would notice, but clearly not well enough. “Your dad wouldn’t have noticed but, y’know, a girl knows.”
“Right,” you mutter. “I’m so sorry. I mean— It’s not that I don’t trust you—”
“No, I know,” she says. “I get it. I mean, your dad and I just got married. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me about it. But if you do, I’m a good listener. And I promise I won’t judge or anything. I just noticed and… you never said anything about having a boyfriend.”
“No, I didn’t,” you admit, rubbing your fingers over the marks on your throat. You can’t tell her who gave them to you, but you don’t want to lie to her. Neither of the guys who are giving you hickeys are your boyfriend. At least, they’ve never said so. “Uhm… it’s complicated.”
“Complicated,” she sighs and then laughs softly. “College boys are so complicated,” she agrees, getting to her feet. “I know how it is. But you’d tell me if it was… someone close to you?” She wheedles and you glance away. “No. Okay. I get it,” she brushes off but you can tell from that tone that your avoidance hurts her. It’s the last thing you want to do, especially given everything you’re already lying to her about.
“No!” you burst. Admittedly, lying to everyone is sort of wearing you down. It does suck that you can’t talk to anyone about the boys you’re with because no one would understand. You can’t tell people you’re sleeping with your step brother and some people would even side eye you for seeing your step brother’s best friend. It’s complicated and difficult and frustrating where you’re at and telling anyone would be nice. Even if it’s just a part of the truth. “I just— uhm…” you swallow and she looks at you patiently. “Don’t… don’t tell my dad,” you say and she mimes zipping her lips.
“I’m a safe,” she assures you, making a gesture like throwing away the key. “You can trust me.”
“It’s, uh… it’s Jungwon,” you say and her eyes widen. “We’re not… I mean, it’s recent. Like, once school started.” The lie just spills out of you and it’s like you can’t stop it. “We’re not together, we haven’t even told anyone else, we’re just… like I said, it’s complicated. My friends don’t even know and Heeseung—” You clam up.
“Does he know? That you’re seeing his friend?” She asks gently, resting a hand on your wrist.
“Yeah…” you murmur. “He’s… the only one who knows.” It’s not a lie, technically.
“I see,” she says. “Well, you know, Jungwon’s a good kid,” she says and you nod. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders, he’s very smart and respectful and from a good family.” You sigh heavily, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. She’s just being nice, trying to be supportive, but all these attributes have nothing to do with why you are seeing Jungwon. “I don’t think it would be such a bad idea if you started seeing him. What does Heeseungie think?”
“He just knows. He doesn’t…” You shake your head. “I don’t think he has an opinion.”
“He does, he just doesn’t want to give it. Typical boy,” she says, shaking her head. “Well, I will not tell your father. He doesn’t need to stick his nose on his daughter’s personal business, especially if you’re not dating him.” You smile shyly at her. “But if you ask me, I think Jungwon would make a lovely boyfriend. I think he would treat you well.”
Images of sitting on his cock, his cock shoved down your throat, being bent over his knee as he spanks you red and aching flit through your mind.
“Yeah,” you struggle out. “Maybe he would.”
You find Jungwon in one of the courtyards, sitting with a few of his friends. You don’t know any of them except for the guys that are also part of Heeseung’s friend circle, Sunoo and Sunghoon. You walk right up to them, unconcerned with the eyes on you as you approach Jungwon. Jungwon turns to you though as you come up to him, Sunoo having tapped his leg and motioned to you as you approached. He looks at you expectantly, curious as to why you’re coming up to him on campus, your trysts being confined to your house or the guest house this past summer.
“Hey,” he greets you. “Heeseung’s not here,” he informs you and you nod.
“I know. I came to talk to you.” His eyes widen slightly. “We need to talk.”
“Right now?”
“Right now,” you agree and Jungwon hops off the picnic table, picking up his bag. He tells the others that he’s leaving and Sunghoon’s eyes dart between the two of you while Wonyoung and Yujin wave him off. Jungwon joins you and the two of you leave the courtyard together. You’re unaware of the eyes following you or the murmur that follows the two of you. Jungwon, however, is well aware that your appearance is strange and is going to start rumors across campus but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t eager to hear what people are going to think.
You lead him towards the cafe, intending to talk to him where other people will see you, in a way that doesn’t seem suspicious. You can tell people you’re working on a class project or studying the same subject right now or something, something innocent if other people can see you. Jungwon, however, isn’t as willing to go along with it as he suddenly grabs you by the elbow and pulls you back, away from the sidewalk. You stumble over your feet, gasping as you’re suddenly yanked backwards, off the beaten path.
You’re startled to find yourself backed up against one of the school buildings, Jungwon leaning into your space. He smirks at you, caging you back against it with his body. He’s taller and broader than you, he blocks you in easily. You go to step around you but he rests a hand on your stomach, pinning you back with his fingertips pressing into your stomach.
“Jungwon—”
“Must be pretty important,” he comments and you huff at him, leaning back against the white brick of the building. “What’s so important you had to talk to me right now?”
“I…” you sigh. “Heeseung’s mom cornered me this morning.” He leans back, letting his hand drop from your stomach. “She started saying all this stuff about being close with me and- and wanting to make sure I could trust her. She noticed…” you point to your neck, the concealer heavier than normal as you reapplied once she noticed, trying to make sure no one else would. His eyes dart down to your throat and then back to your face. “She started asking all these questions and I just… I cracked under the pressure. I- I-”
“You told her I gave them to you,” he says, his lips tilting up into a smile at the corners. “You told her I was the guy. So she wouldn’t think it was Heeseung.”
“I’m sorry,” you say with a sigh. “She promised not to tell my dad and I told her only Heeseung knows so… I mean, she probably won’t say anything to you. I told her it was complicated.”
“Complicated,” Jungwon breathes with a laugh. “Putting it lightly.”
“Look, I told her we’re not dating,” you insist. “So don’t worry about it. I just wanted you to know, in case you’re over and she… says something or implies something or… whatever.”
“You know you can’t hide it forever,” he informs you and your eyes widen in surprise. “Someone’s gonna figure it out. Maybe not about you and Heeseung but someone’s gonna know you’re seeing someone.” He flicks your hair back away from your neck, brushing his fingers against your throat. “You’re just making things worse for yourself by trying to hide it. People are going to find out you’re lying, and imagine how that’s gonna go.”
“What’re you trying to say?” You ask.
Jungwon leans forward and kisses you. You gasp, grabbing his shoulders to push him off but Jungwon just pushes you back against the wall, a hand on your waist, his other hand resting on the wall beside your head. He kisses you aggressively, lips and teeth and tongue, forcing his way into your mouth. You’re not even that far out of the way, just slightly off the beaten path, anyone could see you but Jungwon doesn’t stop. He keeps kissing you, moving the hand from the wall to cradling the side of your neck. You stop trying to fight him off, meeting him every stroke for eager stroke, his tongue in your mouth, a soft moan leaving your lips. Jungwon drifts from your mouth, spit slick and swollen from his lips, to your cheek, making his way down your jaw and neck. You protest when he bites, sucking at the skin just underneath your jaw.
“Won—”
“At school, you’re my girl,” he tells you and you swallow. “Hm? According to everyone else, you’re my girl.” He pulls back, brushing your hair from your face. “You know what they say. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. As long as you’re sleeping with him, no one can ever know, but you’re gonna need a cover story if he keeps leaving those bruises all over you.” He presses his thumb into the side of your neck, making it ache. “So, here’s your options. Keep acting like nothing’s going on and someone is going to call you out on your bullshit. Or, be my girl.” You sigh to yourself. “No one’s gonna ask any questions if they think I’m the one who’s putting those bruises all over you.”
“You are,” you point out.
“Okay then,” Jungwon tells you, smirking. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
You idiots decide to make a competition out of it, you think to yourself. But you bite your tongue because that’s only gonna get you in trouble. You really don’t know how far Jungwon is willing to take this game and you’d prefer to not be sexually punished on school grounds.
“Okay,” you relent. “You want to be my boyfriend, Yang?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” You can’t tell how genuine he’s being.
“Sunghoon told me the most interesting thing today,” Heeseung says, letting himself into your room. He closes the door behind himself, locking it. You sigh to yourself, turning in your chair to look at him. “He said you grabbed Jungwon while you were on campus today,” he says, sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on his hands. You lift a brow at him. “And then someone saw the two of you sucking face by the Sciences hall a little bit later.” You roll your eyes while he lifts a brow at you. “I didn’t think you were into exhibitionism.”
“You’re saying that to me?” You retort and Heeseung clicks his tongue. “It was Jungwon’s idea.”
“I don’t believe you,” he laughs.
“It was!” You insist. “As if you’re not two of the most depraved motherfuckers I know,” you say. Heeseung leans forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Eomma cornered me this morning, asking me about the hickeys you two keep leaving all over my neck.”
“And you said?”
“I said it was Jungwon,” you admit and Heeseung nods. “Look, it’s a safe choice. If I tell everyone Jungwon is the one who’s putting bruises on me no one is going to think twice. I can’t tell anyone the truth so, according to everyone else, Jungwon is the one I’m seeing.” Heeseung purses his lips, glancing over at you. “You know I’m right.”
“I know,” he says, getting up. “Look, I have no issues with sharing you with Jungwon. You’re the desperate slut who wants two guys.” He comments, walking up to you. You open your mouth to retort but he wraps his fingers around your throat, shutting you up. You press your lips together as he squeezes gently around your neck. “What? No retort? You are learning,” he teases you and you glare up at him. “I guess brats can learn new tricks.” He pats your cheek condescendingly and you resist the urge to press your thighs together. You never thought being degraded would turn you on so much. “I don’t mind that Jungwon wants you in public, that doesn’t matter to me. Just so long as you don’t forget about the cock that’s waiting for you at home.”
“Yes, oppa,” you tell him, glaring up at him.
“That’s my baby sister,” he coos. He kisses your lips, biting at your lower lip until it stings.
Word gets around the campus far faster than you would like it to, in fact by the next day everyone is talking about you and Jungwon. You’re generally a well kept person, you don’t talk to a lot of people, you have a small circle of friends, so your name suddenly being in everyone’s mouth is less than preferred. The murmurs after Heeseung moved in with you were more than enough, being Jungwon’s ‘girl’ is a bit more than you really want to deal with.
“Don’t take it so personally,” Jungwon tells you, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. It’s strange and foreign, the way that Jungwon has started to treat you. It was fine when it was just sex, when it was obvious you were both carnally attracted to each other, but suddenly he’s become… tender. “You know how people can be, talking about stuff without knowing anything at all. You’re just the latest topic of conversation, things will die down and people will move on.”
“Yeah, when?” You ask, turning to him. Jungwon shrugs, bringing his hand down to rest it on your thigh. Normally he would be trying to push it between your legs but his fingers are curled innocently halfway down your thigh, his index finger swirling circles into the inside of your leg next to your inseam. It stirs something in you but it’s less raging tidal waves and more lapping at the shoreline.
“Eventually,” he tells you. “You’re upset,” he concludes.
“Shocking,” you comment, your brusque nature coming out without meaning to. Jungwon removes his hand from your thigh to instead take your hand in his, pulling you up from the bench. You stumble to your feet and he drags you down the hall, away from the lecture halls.
You didn’t mean to end up loitering outside of Jungwon’s lecture hall but he could read you right off, which was sort of frustrating to deal with. Somewhere along the way, he and Heeseung had started to read you much, much easier than you could read them. You wonder if it’s because they’re boys or because their behavior is erratic but in the end, it doesn’t matter. Trying to understand the two of them is like trying to find your way through a labyrinth, every time you think you’re onto something, there’s a new wall keeping you out.
He pulls you down the hall and, after taking a cursory glance around, pulls you inside a nearby, unlocked closet. You’re not even surprised anymore, you stumble into the dark room and let your messenger bag drop off your shoulder. Jungwon pushes you back against the door, pinning you to the hardwood.
“Are you mad at me?” He asks and your brow furrows. Of all the questions, this isn’t what you were expecting.
“Why do you think that?” You ask, shifting awkwardly against the door.
“Because it was my idea,” he tells you simply. “If you’re mad at me just say it.”
“I’m not,” you reply. “Why, do you have a guilty conscience?” You ask him, crossing your arms over your chest in the narrow space between your bodies. Jungwon smirks at you. “If I said yes, what would you do? Would you apologize?”
“I’d make it up to you,” he says instead, and then his hands fall away. “I wouldn’t need to apologize because I’d make everything better.” Jungwon bites his lip and drops to his knees in front of you, making your breath catch. He pushes the hem of your shirt up, fingers tucking into the waistband of your jeans. “Do you want me to make it up to you?” he asks, pressing a kiss just beneath your navel.
“Yeah,” you agree, breathless. “Make it up to me.” Jungwon unbuttons your jeans, unzipping the fly and then pulls them down your hips. He leaves your underwear on, your usual thong wrapped around your hips. He kisses his way down your legs, pausing to kiss the inside of your thighs as he peels your jeans down to pool around your ankles. He pulls one of your feet out of your jeans, kissing the inside of your knee and then hooks it over his shoulder.
He kisses up the inside of your leg again and you drop your arms, instead running your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his eyes. In the dark of the closet his eyes still glint up at you, sucking kisses up the soft inside of your thigh. He leaves little aching bruises on his way up, pushing your hips against the door to hold you down. You wait quietly, watching as he makes his way to the apex of your thighs, taking a hand from your hip to hook a finger in your underwear, pulling it aside.
“Already wet for me?” He asks, running his thumb up and down your rapidly wetting slit. You hum softly, nodding your head as he spreads you open. “Gonna make you feel so good.” Jungwon presses a kiss to your clit, sending a shiver through you and then lays the flat of his tongue over it, laving over the bundle of nerves languidly. You tighten your fingers in his hair, trying to urge him closer.
While he would normally tease you, he moves in closer like you’re telling him to, running his tongue all down your slit, tasting you. You moan above him, biting your lip hard to try and muffle it. You have no idea who might be walking by, the last thing you need is someone to know someone is fooling around in a fucking janitor’s closet. Still, you begin to rock your hips against his face, Jungwon sticking his tongue out to let you rut your hips against his face, smearing slick and spit all across his face as you do so. He moans into your cunt, eyes fluttering shut as you use his mouth to get yourself off.
“You always talk so much,” you sigh, tilting your hips further. Jungwon moves his hand from your hip to your ass, holding you against his face. His other hand keeps a tight grip on your thong, out of the way so you can have full access to his mouth. “Turns out the best way to keep you quiet is to ride your face.” Jungwon moans into your pussy, sucking and licking at your clit, your labia, sticking his tongue up inside of you. “Ooh, fuck. That’s it. Use your tongue to fuck me. Make me come on your face.”
He guides you hump his face faster, pressing you harder against his mouth. You can feel your clit throbbing, the hot press of his tongue inside of you pushing you closer and closer to the edge, an ache building inside of you. He presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing tight circles into the sensitive nerves, making you shake. Your breath comes out in heavy pants as you rock your hips frantically, trying to get yourself over the edge. Your slick is practically dripping down his face, running down his chin as he eats you out, slurping wetly at your cunt.
“Fuck,” you gasp out, cradling his face against your cunt. Jungwon’s tongue curls inside of you, your rocking rubbing him right up against your walls, making you shiver. You’re chasing it, the heat building inside of you until it shakes through you, Jungwon’s thumb pressing hard against your clit, your cunt spasming around his tongue. You can faintly hear Jungwon licking at you, swallowing you down through the roaring of your blood in your ears as you come all over his face. You have to lean back against the door, trying to catch your breath as your orgasm continues to roll through you.
He brings your leg down to the floor and you look down to see him wiping at his mouth and chin, trails of slick and spit running down his jaw. You lift a hand, pulling the sleeve of your sweater over your hand to help him out, running the cuff over his cheek and jaw.
“Gonna get cum on your sweater,” Jungwon points out to you with a breathless laugh.
“It’s my cum,” you retort and he grins. “What’re you gonna do about that?” You ask, glancing down meaningfully at his crotch. Even with his jeans on there’s a prominent bulge in the front of them, his cock clearly hard and straining against the zipper.
“I’ll handle it,” he tells you.
“Why would you handle it when my pussy’s right here,” you point out and he smirks at you. “Get your dick out. I think this door will hold.”
You start to get used to spending time with Jungwon, before and after your classes, studying together, and getting lunch. It becomes part of your routine, which you don’t mind at all. Jungwon seems to be softening the more time you spend together. Not when you fuck, which doesn’t seem to be slowing down but is actually happened at a higher frequency because he’s finding more innovative ways to try and take you while you’re on campus. You’ve been fucked in bathrooms, closets, library study rooms, he’s getting creative. You don’t mind it, being the center of Jungwon’s attention is kind of special.
Sometimes you glance over at him and have to do a double take because Jungwon is looking at you so gently it kind of takes your breath away. Your last boyfriend was in high school and he was shit, he cared so much more about his studying than you at all, so you don’t why he even bothered to date you. You’ve never been looked at like this before, never been attended to the way Jungwon does.
It makes you feel special. It makes you want to lean into this, Jungwon’s arm on your shoulders, the kisses he presses to your lips, and hand he slides into the back pocket of your jeans. You’re not sure how true all this is, but it feels real and it’s kind of nice.
The only problem is that Heeseung seems to be pulling away.
“I’m busy,” he says when you lean in the doorway of his bedroom. You frown, stepping into his room and closing the door behind you. He sighs but doesn’t stop you when you drape yourself along his back, arms around his shoulders. “Y/N,” he tells you, lifting his head from his studies.
“I miss my big brother,” you coo, kissing the side of his neck. He breathes in a deep breath. “He used to take such good care of me.”
“I have a test coming up,” he tells you and you huff. “C’mon, now’s not a good time.”
“If you’re stressed, let me help,” you offer. “I thought you liked fucking my mouth.”
“I have a lot to review. Just… not tonight,” he brushes off. You frown, pulling back. “Don’t you have some studying to do or something?”
“Fine,” you grump, getting off of him, “but don’t come crying to me when your dick aches.” You walk back over to his bedroom door.
“You’d drop to your knees if I asked,” he comments idly and you glance over at him, hand on the doorknob.
“For someone who insists that I have cock at home, you certainly make me go out a lot lately.” You yank the door open, stepping out. Heeseung sucks on his teeth, closing his eyes as you slam the door shut behind you.
You start to notice it even more when you’re with Jungwon on campus, that Heeseung starts to regard you as just his sister. You didn’t think it would hurt your feelings but as Jungwon draws you closer, Heeseung steps away. If you’re with Jungwon on campus, Heeseung won’t even approach you. If you parents are out late, he won’t even utter the words ‘usual dinner’ to you anymore and you usually end up going home with Jungwon, letting him fuck you into the mattress. Being with Jungwon is great, the more time you spend with him the more and more you like him but the fact is, you still miss Heeseung as much as you don’t want to admit to it.
“I’m not enough?” Jungwon jokes when you’re lying in bed together after another athletic romp in the sheets. You slap him on the chest and he laughs. “I’m kidding. I kind of miss him too, y’know? We had a good time when we were with you.” You wonder briefly if you should be insulted by that comment, but you’re not. You agree with Jungwon, fooling around with the both of them was always fun.
“What the hell is up with him? He barely even looks at me at home, y’know that?” You comment, your head on Jungwon’s shoulder. “I swear I offer to suck his dick every day now and he completely brushes me off. It’s like he’s not even into me anymore.”
“I don’t think so,” Jungwon says, squeezing you gently with the arm he has draped around your back. “I think he’s feeling… left out.”
“He’s your best friend, and I’m his step sister,” you point out.
“You can never be with him in public,” Jungwon points out and you frown. “Not as long as your parents are together.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Let me handle it,” Jungwon says and you look at him, a mischievous smile on his lips. “I know how hyung works. I can get him back in bed.”
You are never listening to Jungwon again, you think as you approach the house party that’s pulsing at the end of the street. The place belongs to a friend of a friend of Jake’s, you think, but you’re not sure. Half the university was invited, including Jungwon and Heeseung’s friend circle and Jungwon told you to come. You managed to wrangle Kazuha and Yunjin to come with you, the three of you approaching the house arm in arm. It smells like alcohol and sweat and weed and the place is shaking with bass, the bottom floor of the family house strobing with neon lights. You’re hesitant to enter but you agreed to Jungwon’s harebrained, unexplained plan and Kazuha and Yunjin will not let you back out anyway.
The place is crowded, hot and confusing from the moment you step inside, Yunjin dragging you further into the house towards where she thinks the kitchen might be. There’s a crowd of people around the doorway so you think she might be right, your hand around Kazuha’s elbow to make sure you don’t lose her in the thick of it all.
You have a drink that might be 70% alcohol in hand when someone sidles up to you, an arm around your waist.
“You came,” Jungwon says, kissing you. You kiss him back, Yunjin and Kazuha sharing a look at the obvious public display of affection. “You guys came too. Good, I’m glad,” he says, looking at your friends as soon as he’s done with you. “I would hate for my girl to come to a party alone.” You elbow him, making him laugh.
“Wow, declarations already? You guys are getting serious,” Yunjin teases you.
“It’s not,” you insist.
“Not yet,” Jungwon says and you turn your head, giving him a hard look. “I gotta go, but I’ll catch you later, okay?” He says and you nod. He kisses your temple, whispering in your ear, “Hyung’s already here. Be upstairs in two hours.” It makes a shiver run through you. He kisses your cheek once more and then leaves, leaving you with your friends.
“Damn,” Kazuha says, shaking her head to herself. “You know, I said you should be with him but I can’t believe you actually got with him.”
“Poor Heeseung,” Yunjin comments, “has to watch you suck face with one of his best friends all the time.”
“He doesn’t watch us,” you tell them, rolling your eyes. “And it’s like you said, he’s my step brother!”
“Still, a crime,” Yunjin tells you. “C’mon, it’s crowded in here,” she changes the topic, grabbing your wrist.
“It’s crowded everywhere!” You shout over the din of music and chatter around you. They pay you no mind, dragging you out of the kitchen and into the living room where the music is loudest.
You misplace both of them in short order, which doesn’t surprise you. People are playing beer pong in the den, someone’s smoking weed downstairs, people are draped all over the place. You’ve run into half the basketball team, the dance team and a handful of the astronomy club. The bathroom is locked because someone is moaning, loudly, inside of it and you’re two drinks deep by the time two hours have elapsed. You haven’t seen Jungwon anywhere, you’re kind of tipsy and off kilter as you attempt to trudge up the stairs. You also haven’t seen Heeseung you realize, but continue up to the second floor anyway.
The second floor is a lot dimmer and quieter than the first floor and there are couples all over the hallway, making out and copping feels up and down the walkway. You have to edge past a couple of girls trying to have sex with their clothes on to get further down the hall. There’s a bedroom that’s unoccupied that you slip into, closing the door behind you. You land on the bed with a sigh, your head spinning from alcohol consumption and what might be a contact high, you’re not sure.
The door to the bedroom opens and you look up, finding Heeseung standing in the doorway. He looks momentarily surprised then torn, turning abruptly away from you to look back.
“That’s my step sister, no way,” he says, turning to the guys behind him. It’s Jungwon, of course, but Jake and Sunghoon are also there, the three of them clearly having goaded him into this.
“You agreed to the dare!” Sunghoon insists. “We said the girl upstairs. We never said what girl!” He’s drunk, you’re not sure he would’ve agreed to this asinine dare concept if he wasn’t. Clearly, Jungwon knew what he was doing, and he was using his drunk friends to his advantage. That and Heeseung’s inability to turn down a dare, no matter what it is. It is all in your favor though.
“She’s—”
“Not related to you by blood,” Jake points out. “Besides, all you have to do is get your hand up her skirt.” You glance away, suddenly embarrassed by the situation. Jungwon never told you what this nonsense plan would entail, he didn’t tell you Heeseung was being goaded into doing something so borderline inappropriate with you. The idea of getting to be with Heeseung is what drew you in, not the idea that his friends are also going to know.
“Heeseung,” you say, standing up. Heeseung looks over his shoulder at you. He looks hesitant in a way you’ve never seen him be before. “C’mon, just get it over with. Or your friends are gonna think you’re a pussy.” Heeseung gives you a look while Jake and Sunghoon giggle, Jungwon lifting a brow at you.
“Fine,” he bites out, “but you’re not watching.” He insists, closing the door on them, shutting it tightly. The room is suddenly almost pitch black and your eyes have to adjust to the darkness. You can hear Heeseung approach you, feel the heat of him when he gets close enough. “This was your plan, wasn’t it? You wanted me to touch you again?” He hisses in the darkness.
“No—”
“Slut,” he tells you and you swallow. “I see that hasn’t changed.” He shoves you backwards onto the bed, knocking you onto your ass. It feels like it did all those months ago, as he climbs on top of you. “This what you wanted?” He asks, his features coming into focus as your eyes get used to the darkness. “Go through all the work, devise this little plan just so I’ll fuck you again, huh? That’s how bad you want my cock?”
“If I say yes, will you fuck me?” You ask, breathless.
“What about your boyfriend? What would he think?” Heeseung retorts, hands on either side of your head.
“Fuck him,” you tell him. “After all this shit, you care about what Jungwon thinks? You don’t even care about what my dad thinks. You don’t even care about what society thinks. Anyone else would think you’re a sick fuck, putting your cock inside your sister. Now you’re scared?” His jaw clenches. “Too scared to fuck me. You are a pussy.”
He gets off of you to instead grab you by the waist, manhandling you onto the bed. The mattress is hard and the bedding is scratchy and foreign underneath you but it doesn’t matter when Heeseung climbs back on top of you. He takes your face in his hands, kissing you hard on the mouth. You moan into his lips, having missed this. His mouth opens against yours, licking into your mouth as he lets his hands drag down your body.
Over your neck and chest, groping and squeezing your breasts, making you moan into his mouth desperately. Heeseung quiets you by shoving his tongue into your mouth, practically fucking your mouth as his hands keep going, down your waist, towards your hips. He wraps his large hands around your thighs, pushing them down to the bed to spread you open. It aches, the strain in your muscles when he forces you open for him, the action bunching your skirt up around your hips, exposing yourself to him.
“I’m gonna fuck this pussy so hard, you’re gonna beg me to stop,” he warns you, lips brushing yours, letting go of you to undo his belt. It clinks in the quiet of the bedroom, so loud it makes you clench around nothing. “Your big brother’s gonna take such good fucking care of you, baby sister.” You moan against his mouth and he kisses you again, biting at your lips. He pushes his jeans down, letting his cock bob out of his boxers, half hard. He aligns himself to your cunt, thong pulled aside, and doesn’t give you time to adjust, shoving inside in one hard thrust.
You yell, surprised by the sudden thrust. It hurts, the way he stretches you open, the way he buries himself inside of you. Your eyes roll back as he hauls you into his lap, your thighs over his as he fucks you hard and fast. Little yelps escape you without thought, your cunt aching, the tip of his cock pounding your cervix with every hard thrust. You have to grip the pillow underneath your head, gasping through his thrusts as he fucks you desperately.
“Fuck, this fucking pussy,” he bites out. “Still so good. This pussy’s so fucking good, baby sister’s got such a good pussy, huh?” Heeseung mocks you. You cry out, head thrown back into the pillow as he takes you as rough as he pleases. “Yeah, does it feel good? Does it feel good when I make it fucking hurt?”
“Yes,” you gasp out. “Oh, God. Oh, God,” you sob, shaking through the pleasure that threatens to consume you. Your cunt squelches with the most obscene noises as he continues to fuck you, getting wetter and wetter as he fucks you manically. You can’t even open your eyes, you’re trembling, shaking through every thrust.
“Desperate little slut,” he accuses you. “Filthy fucking whore, begging me every night to fuck her. Begging me for cock, asking every goddamn night if she can suck me off. If she can please, please have my cock in her mouth,” Heeseung mocks you. “I’m sick? You want your brother’s cock so bad, don’t you, baby?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine out. “Yes, please. Please. Please give it to me. Please, I want it.”
“Oh, you’ll get it.” He leans over the top of you, fucking down into you, making you cry out. His hands find yours, and you let him thread his fingers through yours, keeping you pinned down. His fingers slip right between the gaps of yours and you whine, forcing your eyes open to look up at him. “Open your mouth,” he tells you and you do, tongue out. He spits down into your mouth, his spit running down your tongue, further inside. “Swallow like a good girl.” You do and he shivers. “My good baby sister,” he coos. You gasp through every thrust, eyes closing.
“Heeseung,” you whimper. He shoves into you, grinding his dick hard into you, sending sparks of pain up your spine, the waves of which ebb out into pleasure. “I’m gonna- fuck.”
“Come around me,” he urges. “Come on my cock, baby.”
It shivers through you, shaking all the way through your body. You can barely think, your cunt spasming around his cock. Heeseung leans down, hiding his face in your neck, groaning as he forces a few more thrusts into your tight pussy. You whimper, the drag of his cock inside of you overstimulating your sensitive walls. He tenses up above you, coming inside of you, filling you up. You can feel the heat of it, the throbbing of his cock, the way it seeps out around his cock, too much to stay inside of you.
“Stop avoiding me,” you whisper into the dark, the both of you catching your breath, sweat cooling on your skin. “I did miss you.”
“What about Jungwon?”
“I thought you didn’t mind sharing.” Heeseung pulls back to look at you. “I can like more than one man.”
“You like me?” He asks, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. You roll your eyes, squeezing his hands gently where your fingers are still laced with his.
“You make being your sister very, very difficult,” you inform him. Heeseung kisses you, long and slow and almost sweet.
Heeseung climbs off of you, slowly pulling out. It aches and he kisses your shoulder gently as a silent apology. He gets off the bed and you lie there, sweaty and tired and sated, cum literally leaking out of you for a few moments while Heeseung tucks himself back into his jeans. You look up at him, watching him put himself back together. As soon as he has he reaches a hand out to you, helping you sit up.
“I’m dripping,” you inform him and he smirks. “Wipe that fucking look off your face. I’m a mess. I can’t go out there like this.” The door opens and Heeseung steps forward to cover you, your face hiding in his chest. The door closes and Heeseung glances over, letting out a breath and stepping back. You look around him to see Jungwon standing there with a roll of toilet paper in hand. “Someone let you in the bathroom?” You comment, getting to your feet with Heeseung’s help.
“With luck, it was open,” he says, approaching the two of you. He tears off a section of toilet paper and gets down to his knees, cleaning you up. He also pulls your thong off, shocking a surprised noise out of you. You step out of it when he pulls it down to your feet and stands, handing it to Heeseung. “Your prize,” Jungwon says, looking directly at you as he says it.
“Much obliged,” Heeseung says, also looking at you. You tilt your head at him. “That was the dare. Get the panties off the girl in the bedroom upstairs," he explains, tucking your underwear into his back pocket.
“Oh, you two are so sick,” you tell them, shaking your head at them.
“So are you,” Heeseung reminds you, kissing you. Jungwon kisses you as well the moment Heeseung pulls back.
“You guys wanna kiss now?” You quips. Heeseung and Jungwon share a look and you shake your head, waving a hand. “You know what? Don’t.”
“Are you sure?” Your eomma says for what must be the hundredth time ever since Heeseung told her he was moving into his own place with a couple of the guys. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, watching her fret over Heeseung, as she has been this whole day. Heeseung stays still, like a good son, and lets her push his bangs away from his face, your dad carrying the last box of his things into the apartment. Jungwon and Jake are watching with thinly veiled amusement as Heeseung finally raises his hands to take her hands in his, stopping her. “I mean, you don’t have to move out! We just moved in with your dad and Y/N, you can stay there until you’ve finished school!” She reasons and Heeseung nods along, but clearly just to placate her. “I just don’t understand why you feel like you have to move out. You don’t! There’s more than enough room for you at home and this apartment,” she turns abruptly, putting her hands on her hips, surveying the small apartment. “Well, it’s just not big enough for three boys,” she insists.
“Eomma, I already signed the lease,” Heeseung says and she huffs at him. “It’s fine! It’s a good apartment and it’s in a good neighborhood and I’m living with Jungwon and Jake!” He gestures to his friends, who smile at her but it doesn’t lessen the worry lines in her forehead. “They’re two of my best friends, we’re all responsible. It’s fine. I told you, I just want to move out. Try living on my own,” Heeseung reasons with her.
“You’re so young!” She says and Heeseung sighs heavily. “You’re still in school! What’s the rush?”
There is no rush but you hop off the counter and share a look with Jungwon, who resists the urge to smirk. You walk around the squabbling mother and son to help your dad with moving the boxes to the side of what will be the living room. Right now it has a single sofa, a media center and a small TV in it. They have a long way to go to make this a home, but it’s a start.
“Honey,” your dad says, resting a hand on your eomma’s shoulder. Heeseung gives your dad desperate eyes and your dad brings your step mother closer. “I know it’s hard to imagine, but they’re growing up. Heeseung wants to try living on his own. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before Y/N decides she wants to move out too—”
“Don’t say that!” She argues and Jake stifles a snort. “Y/N’s still only in her second year of university, she’s so young! She’s our little girl.” You don’t turn away from the boxes in front of you because you already know Heeseung and Jungwon are making faces at your back at the term ‘little girl.’
“Well, we can’t stop them from becoming adults,” your dad reasons.
“Ugh, fine,” she relents but she’s clearly not happy about it. “But you know you can always come home, right?” She tells him and Heeseung nods.
You don’t know whose idea it was to move into this apartment, but it’s not a bad place and you don’t mind helping them all move in. Heeseung is right, it is in a good neighborhood and with all three of them living in the small apartment, they’ll be able to handle rent and utilities easily. You wander further into the apartment, towards the back that has a large window that looks out over the main street. It’s a drab, boring view right into the center of the city, four stories in the air and not an elevator in sight but it’s a starter apartment. You put your hands on your hips, startling when someone slides their arms around your middle.
“You like it?” Jungwon asks, hooking his chin over your shoulder. “You’re gonna be over a lot, it’d be a shame if you hate it.” He kisses his way across your shoulder, revealed by the strap of your tank top.
“You live with Jake too,” you point out and Jungwon hums into your skin.
“I wouldn’t worry about Jake,” he says and you roll your eyes. “It’s nice, right?”
“You didn’t need to move out,” you inform him but Jungwon ignores you in favor of kissing your shoulder, up to the crook of your neck, further towards your jaw. “Stop it, my dad’s right there,” you tell him, reaching back to swat at his thigh.
“He’s still trying to talk your step mom down,” he tells you and you giggle.
The three of you end up having to spend several hours talking your step mom down from trying to physically drag Heeseung back home and find a way to get him out of the lease. You spend dinner at the new apartment, ordering in while Heeseung and Jake show her around the place, insisting that it’s very well cleaned, the maintenance team is good, she has nothing to worry about. You have to spend that time trying to talk your dad down from interrogating your boyfriend, which is about as much fun as you expected it to be.
“So you’re a… music production major?” He asks and Jungwon nods in agreement.
“Yes, sir.”
“And that pays well, that degree?”
“Dad!”
They don’t end up leaving until the sun has long since gone down and dinner has been cleared away. Your parents hesitate in the doorway though, checking with you.
“I’m just gonna stay a little later with the guys,” you say and your dad narrows his eyes skeptically. “It’s fine, Heeseung and Jake aren’t going anywhere,” you point out. He eases up slightly, your step mom smiling softly at you. “I’ll be home soon.”
“Midnight,” he warns you.
“I’ll be home by midnight,” you agree. He nods in agreement.
“I’ll walk you guys down,” Jake offers, hopping off the couch to take your parents downstairs. You, Heeseung and Jungwon wish both of your parents a good night, waving until the door closes behind them. All three of you stand around, waiting as the sound of their footsteps gets more and more distant. The sound eventually fades away entirely, and then Heeseung has you by the waist, reeling you in.
“I thought they’d never leave,” he complains, kissing you hard. You reach out blindly but Jungwon fills the space quickly, his mouth finding your neck while his hands fumble with your shorts. Heeseung’s hands slide up your shirt, skimming over your bare waist to cup your chest, squeezing at your bra clad breasts. You gasp into his mouth, Jungwon shoving your shorts down so he can push a hand in between your legs.
“Jake’s coming back!” You remind them, words half lost in Heeseung’s lips. Heeseung moves to your throat and Jungwon lifts his head to kiss you again, quieting you.
“I told you, I wouldn’t worry about Jake,” Jungwon whispers into your lips, pushing his tongue into your mouth the next second.
“Oh my god,” you groan, each hand in either boy’s hair. You can feel spit and slick dripping down your slit, pooling on the edge of the counter as Heeseung and Jungwon both suck and lick at your cunt. Heeseung’s tongue is pushed up into your cunt while Jungwon sucks on your clit, the two of them both indulgently eating you. They’ve been at this for so long, you practically ache with oversensitivity but it’s too good to stop them. You lean back against the kitchen cabinets, gasping through waves of pleasure that run through you.
They’re both so intent about it, trading places every so often so they can both taste you, so they can both tongue fuck you and suck on your clit. You’re shaking, trembling through every wave of pleasure, gasping loudly as Heeseung grazes his teeth on your clit, an edge of pain against all the relentless pleasure. You hold him closer to you and he sucks harder at your clit, while Jungwon spreads your pussy open with his fingers, shoving his tongue as deep inside of you as possible.
“I’m gonna come again,” you whine, rocking your hips up towards them. Heeseung pins you down, burying his face further into your cunt, sucking and licking at your clit, Jungwon licking around your entrance. You don’t know how long they’ve been at it but you’ve come twice already and they’ve got you dangling on a wire again. Pleasure pulses through you, deep in your hips, heavy and waiting.
Fingers suddenly plunge inside of you and you shout, hips trying to buck up against Heeseung’s hands holding you down. They curl up against your walls, fucking hard into you until you’re coming, spilling onto the counter and dripping down the cabinets. You tremble on the countertop, fingers fisted in their hair as you come, eyes rolling back, trying to catch your breath.
When they pull back both of them are wiping their mouths of your slick and cum, Jake smirking at you as he sucks your release from his fingers.
“Shit, hyung, no wonder you were so willing to get her alone at that party,” he comments, watching as your chest heaves through every labored breath.
“I told you, Jake,” Heeseung says, eyes raking over your gasping form while Jungwon licks his lips. “There are benefits to moving in with Jungwon and I.”
a/n: *DO NOT ENGAGE IN ROAD HEAD. IT'S DANGEROUS AND STUPID. I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO SAY THIS, JUST DON'T DO IT.
**there is discussion of std / sti testing as well as the use of birth control in the above work, that being said, i still recommend the use of condoms while having sex. please, if you are having sex please be sure you are taking precautions. it's just safer! safe sex saves lives!!
this is a duology, so there's only two parts, so this is the end of the line for stupid games! i hope you guys liked my surprise ending, it all just sort of came together for me towards the end there and i love it. i hope you enjoyed it as well. thanks for loving this idea so much, i never imagined all this love. so thankful to all of you!
step brother!lee heeseung x reader [afab] x brother's best friend!yang jungwon
genre: smut
concept: your father suddenly moving his fiance and her son into your family home is enough to throw your life into a tailspin. add in the appearance of your future step brother's close friend and some completely unexpected sexual tension and suddenly you don't know which way is up anymore.
w/c: 13.8k
warning: family conversations, vague uni au, extensive discussion of dick sizes, sexual tension, reader hooks up with a stranger, stepcest, open ending; sexually explicit content, masturbation, big dick!heeseung & jungwon, dub con, rough sex, degradation, sexualization of familial titles [baby sister, oppa, big brother, etc.], shower sex, light spanking, multiple positions, sexual punishment, oral [m. & f. receiving], throat fucking, orgasm denial, light clit slapping, cumshot, *unprotected sex, creampie [**please let me know if i missed anything!]
To say that you were surprised by your father’s relationship would be an understatement. He didn’t even tell you he was seeing anyone and all of a sudden he’s engaged and this woman and her son are going to be moving into the house. You have nothing against your father being in a relationship, he’s more than welcome to, but you don’t know anything about this woman or her son or what their circumstances are. It’s all so sudden, the house being twice as full as it was previously, your step brother moving into the spare room right next to yours. You don’t even know how old this guy is or what he’s like.
You’re surprised when you meet your father’s fiance and her son to realize that you do know this guy. In fact, you go to the same university as him. His name is Heeseung and he’s a few years your senior, you’ve shared a class or two with him and you’re in the same year as his friend, Jungwon. You greet him as politely as you can, the boy in question meeting you just as politely. Clearly you aren’t the only one who’s been blind sided by this change, so at least you’re on an even keel about that.
While your father and soon-to-be step mother get on with their wedding plans, you and Heeseung begin a tenuous relationship. His room is right next to yours, you have to share a bathroom (which isn’t the worst thing but you don’t love having to hide your period products now that a boy is sharing your bathroom with you), the two of you keep running into each other in the hallways or the stairs or the living room. You don’t mind, you’re just not used to having to share space with someone else. You’re an only child and it’s always been you and your dad since your parents divorced so it’s taking some getting used to.
“It’s just growing pains,” your father says, helping you make dinner. You rinse the rice a little more aggressively than entirely necessary because it’s frustrating. You want to believe him, you and Heeseung will get used to each other, but right now all it feels like is that the two of you keep getting in each other’s way.
You and Jungwon share more classes than Heeseung and you because you’re in the same year so, inevitably, the two of you cross paths during this time. You’re packing up your bag, stuffing your textbook into your messenger bag along with your notebooks when Jungwon meets you at your table. You look at him, surprised to see him at the corner of your desk.
“Y/N, right?” He asks and you nod. No surprise he’s not familiar with you. You’re not especially popular, you have friends but you’re not outgoing, you don’t go to parties or try to be liked, you’re in school to get a degree more than anything. Jungwon though, he’s pretty popular. Heeseung too, it’s half the reason you recognized him when you met him for the first time. Both of them are on the university basketball team, they have a lot of friends and they go to parties every once in a while. At least, you assume so considering you’ve been hearing Heeseung sneaking back into the house at ass o’clock in the morning on Saturdays and Sundays since he moved in.
“Yeah,” you agree. “What’s up, Jungwon?” You ask, picking your bag up to hang on your shoulder.
“Heeseung hyung just moved in with you, right?” Jungwon asks and you shift awkwardly, wrapping your hands around the strap of your bag. “I mean, he mentioned, that’s all. His eomma and your appa or whatever.”
“Yeah, they moved in with us,” you agree. “What about it?”
“Well,” he lifts a hand, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “hyung and I have this partner project we have to work on for the semester and we’d been doing it at mine but hyung mentioned your place was bigger so he suggested we do it at his, but he also mentioned the whole… family thing.” You nod slowly in understanding. “So, I just wanted to make sure it was cool.”
“I mean, it’s for school, right? And even if it wasn’t, you’re Heeseung’s friend so… I mean, it’s not just my house,” you point out and Jungwon nods. “So, don’t even worry about it. Living room’s yours.”
“Cool,” Jungwon says. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.” You nod in agreement, Jungwon heading out of the room. You sigh to yourself, following after him shortly, resigning yourself to your fate.
Being Heeseung’s younger step sister is your new future, whether you like it or not.
Jungwon starts coming by the house after classes every Tuesday and Thursday to work with Heeseung on their semester-long project, sometimes staying late into the evening. You don’t think much of it, you usually stay out of their way up in your room, only coming down to the living spaces to get something to eat or drink. You hardly pay them any mind at all.
They, however, pay you all the mind.
There are some habits you haven’t actively put any thought into changing ever since Heeseung and his mother moved in, most of which are the way you dress. When you get home from class you still immediately take your bra and your pants off, changing into sleep shorts. It’s far more comfortable and you don’t think anything of it because your dad has never said anything to you about it. You’re a young lady, and his daughter, he doesn’t care. However, this is something Heeseung has taken notice of.
He can’t help the way his eyes follow you around when you’re in the house, especially when you come home after classes, beeline to your room only to come out without a bra and wearing the tiniest shorts he’s ever seen. Your ass is barely covered by the material and he knows you wear thongs just because he’s seen your ass so much and never so much as glimpsed a panty line. It’s hard for him to pay attention to anything else when you walk around the house without a care in the world, your nipples showing through your thin shirts. Heeseung’s even seen you come out of the bathroom after a shower once, clearly having forgotten he was even there and wrapped only in a towel. He stopped right in the doorway of his bedroom and you didn’t even notice he was standing there. He watched droplets of water run from your neck down your chest, disappearing in between your boobs, the towel wrapped around you doing little to disguise your body, the arm you had under your breasts giving ample lift to your chest and offering a little bit of cleavage. He stepped back into his room, shutting the door and pressing his back to it, having to grip himself through his shorts, praying his erection would go away. No way he was getting a boner over his future step sister.
Then again, he had no idea you were so attractive. He didn’t even know you went to the same university as him, let alone the same classes. You’re not especially well known across campus, not that you aren’t kind and funny and friendly, but you don’t put yourself out there like him. Heeseung’s first time meeting you was when he moved in, he was practically floored by the knowledge that you two went to the same college (it’s a big college, but still) and he didn’t know you. The problem is that now he has to face the fact that he’s living with one of the most attractive women he’s ever seen and she’s absolutely off limits. It’s so hard, no pun intended, to keep living with you and fighting off erections at every turn with the way you walk around the house.
He wasn’t even able to really warn Jungwon because he didn’t know. Jungwon knew you better than Heeseung, you shared more classes with him, so he was aware of you, even if you’re not friends. He’s seen you around campus, in his classes, but kind of always assessed you the same way as everyone else. You’re pretty, kind, friendly, put together, not much else. He always knew you were beautiful, that was apparent, but you’ve never dressed in a way that really showcased your figure, tending towards a comfortable style. It makes you cute but far from sexy in his mind.
The way you dress at home though, Jungwon’s jaw nearly dropped when you came down the stairs the first time he was studying with Heeseung and you were in those shorts, braless. You walked right past them without a care in the world, Jungwon’s eyes immediately falling to your ass, barely covered by the cotton shorts. When you came into the room he had to actively fight a blush when you asked if either of them wanted something to drink.
“We’re good,” Heeseung told you and you nodded shortly, turning to head up the stairs. Jungwon watches you, noticing that Heeseung is doing the same, as you walk up the stairs. The both of them could practically see up your shorts, a noise escaping Jungwon when he realized how little underwear you’re wearing. “I know,” Heeseung mumbled, looking over at him. “She does it all the time,” he insisted, voice low.
“She just dresses like that, around the house?” Jungwon asks and Heeseung nods, tongue tucked behind teeth.
“It’s like she doesn’t even realize,” Heeseung confirms.
And you don’t. You don’t think about it at all, the way Jungwon and Heeseung watch you. Soon enough, the way Heeseung and you end up running into each other in the hallway stops being an accident but you don’t realize that either, the way that he’ll brush up against you when he sidles past you, his hands brushing against your waist. You don’t pay it any mind when Jungwon comes into the kitchen when you’re in there, leaning over your back to get a glass down from the cupboard, apologizing the whole way when he ends up pressed against your backside. You brush him off, leaving shortly while Jungwon has to adjust himself in his jeans, hoping you didn’t notice that he was half hard. It’s just part of your normal routine, moving around them, not realizing that nothing is accidental about the way they keep running into you or brushing against your body.
“Hey,” Heeseung says one night while you’re in your room, door open, studying on your bed. You’re lying on your stomach, feet in the air behind you as you study your notes. He glances down at your chest, squished against your bed and offering even more to the eye from how low your tank top is, your shorts still barely covering your ass. You lift your brow, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. “Uh, Jungwon’s staying the night, just so you know,” he finishes.
“Oh,” you say. “In yours?” You ask and he nods. “Alright. Thanks for letting me know, I guess?”
“I just didn’t want you to be surprised if you get up in the morning and he’s in the bathroom,” Heeseung offers. You nod in understanding. “You going to bed?”
“Shortly,” you sigh, looking back down at your notes. “Gender Studies work,” you say, tapping your pen against the page of your notebook.
“Good luck,” he offers and then slips away. You smile to yourself, turning back to your notes.
You stay up much later than you planned, trying to finish your Gender Studies notes and getting a jump on your Communications work as well. You don’t end up turning in until nearly two in the morning, cursing softly to yourself as you have a ten a.m. class. You close your textbook, putting your school things away and step out to do your nightly routine. You glance at Heeseung’s door, shut tight and dark around the edges. Usually, if Heeseung’s awake, there’s some kind of noise coming from the door and either the bright overhead white light or pulsing neon lights are seeping out from the frame of the door. He and Jungwon must be asleep, you think to yourself, going into the bathroom to brush your teeth and do your skincare.
When you go back to your room, you hesitate after turning off the lights. You close the door, locking it, and walk over to the wall you share with Heeseung. You press your ear against it, listening for some kind of sound. Nothing comes through the thin wall, confirming to you that he and his guest are asleep on the other side. Satisfied with that, you go to your closet and root around in the bottom drawer of your sock drawers, finding your vibrator.
You haven’t gotten off in weeks. Living next to Heeseung made you so paranoid about masturbating that you haven’t even touched your toys since he moved in. With him definitely asleep though, you pull it out of the drawer and walk over to your bed, climbing under the covers and shimmying your shorts down your hips. Your thong stays on as you get comfortable, turning the vibrator on.
You’re ultra sensitive from not having touched yourself in so long so you slide the vibrator over your clothed cunt, flinching from the intensity. It’s on the lowest setting and you already know you’re going to come so hard when you get there. You run the tip of the vibrator up over your slit, feeling around until you can find your clit. The moment you touch over your clothed clit with the vibrator a gasping moan jumps out of you, causing you to slap a hand over your mouth. You’re louder than you thought you would be, arousal already beginning to course through you and make your thin panties stick to your folds.
On the other side of the thin wall, Heeseung hears you. His bed is pressed up against the shared wall, the same as yours. He’s not fallen asleep yet, still scrolling on his phone. Jungwon is doing the same, lying on the blow up mattress at the foot of Heeseung’s bed, clearly not having heard anything. Heeseung pauses at the sound though, leaning back against his headboard to keep listening.
Carefully, you bring your hand down from your mouth, tucking your fingers under the straps of your thong to pull it off. The thin crotch material is starting to soak through and you toss it over the edge of the bed, setting your vibrator aside to part your pussy with your fingers, running your fingers gently over your cunt. You’re already so wet, pent up from weeks of not touching yourself, slick leaking all over your fingers as you do. You can’t control the little gasps you let out as you run your fingers over your sensitive folds, up and down and back up to touch your clit. You moan softly as you circle your clit with your fingertip, the bundle of nerves already throbbing underneath your fingers.
“Jungwon,” Heeseung whispers. Jungwon looks up and Heeseung nods to the wall. Jungwon’s brow creases but he closes his phone and gets up. He crawls onto the bed, Heeseung pressing a finger to his lips to indicate he be quiet. Jungwon joins him on the bed and Heeseung points to the wall. Jungwon leans his head against it, listening. “Do you hear that?” Heeseung whispers.
Through the wall, Jungwon can hear you gasping and whining. The walls aren’t very thick in the house, clearly, because he can hear every noise you make. It’s obvious what you’re doing on the other side of the wall and his mouth falls open, the corner of his lips turning up a little at the realization. Heeseung presses closer, listening intently.
“Fuck,” you curse to yourself, picking your vibrator back up. You turn it back on, holding your folds open to touch the tip to your clit. Your whole body flinches, unused to the intensity of the vibrator, a loud moan escaping you on accident. Both of the boys hear it clearly from how loud you are, Heeseung biting his lip while Jungwon smirks to himself. You bite your own lip in an attempt to quiet yourself but you rock your hips up against the vibrator, desperate for more. It feels so good, slick leaking profusely from you as you circle your clit with the tip, bringing yourself closer and closer to the edge. It’s not far off, it’s building so fast inside of you you already know your orgasm won’t take long.
Your gasps and moans come through the thin wall, pouring out of you quickly, you certainly unaware that you’re being loud enough to attract an audience. You have no idea Heeseung and Jungwon are listening in, palming their cocks to the sounds you’re making. Heeseung resists his own urges to moan as he rocks his hips against his hand, Jungwon pressing hard on his own dick. Both of their shorts have obvious tents from how hard they’re getting, listening to you get off.
You take the vibrator off of your clit and slide it up and down your cunt, gathering your slick on the toy. You’re clenching uselessly around nothing, your cunt practically aching with the desire to be filled. You spread your legs further, allowing you to tuck the tip inside of yourself. It aches a little bit but in the best way, the way your walls are unfamiliar in the stretch of something inside of you. You take it slowly, sliding it deeper and deeper inside of you, your eyes rolling back as moans pour from your mouth. All thoughts of being quiet have fled you now, your own desperation fueling you to get yourself off.
You start fucking yourself slowly, easing the toy deep inside of you, the vibrations of it shuttering through you. Heeseung and Jungwon listen intently on the other side of the wall, Heeseung giving up all pretenses and shoving a hand into his shorts. Jungwon follows his lead, the both of them leaned back against the wall, biting their lips to keep themselves quiet, fisting their cocks as you moan. Both of their minds are filled with vivid images of what you must look like, gasping little moans leaving you at the same rhythm they fuck their hands at, assuring them that you must be fucking yourself with something.
You bring your other hand to your clit, rubbing your fingers in circles around it, sending sparks down your spine to settle into your hips. The sound of the vibrator inside of you is wet, obscene with the way you’re trying so hard to get yourself over the edge. Your hands both speed up and your moans get higher in pitch until you’re practically keening, cursing under your breath in hopes of getting off.
“C’mon, c’mon,” you whine, back arching. On the other side of the wall, Jungwon is chanting the came thing under his breath, palming the tip of his cock, and then stroking roughly down the length of himself, wet with precum. Heeseung’s head is tipped back against the wall, eyes pinched shut as he listens to you get off, fingers tight around himself, trying to last, trying to wait until he hears the sweet sound of your orgasm to get over the edge.
“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, your orgasm rushing through you. You press your fingertips down on your clit, which is pulsing under your fingers, cunt spasming around your vibrator. The vibrations keep you shuddering through your orgasm, wetness seeping out around the vibrator. You gasp, trying to catch your breath.
Heeseung chokes on a noise, trying to be quiet as he comes inside of his shorts, Jungwon biting so hard on the inside of his lip he can taste blood when he comes. Both of them seep through their boxers, staining their shorts as they come all over their hands. The sound of your own gasps as you come down from your orgasm makes certain you don’t hear them trying to catch their own breath on the other side of the wall.
Heeseung looks over at Jungwon, who nods slightly. In the darkness of his bedroom, they make a silent agreement.
They have to have you.
When you wake up in the morning, you roll out of bed and head to the bathroom as you do every morning. You’re usually awake well before Heeseung and he doesn’t even shower in the morning so you grab the doorknob of the bathroom door, not even checking to see if it’s locked. You push it open easily, lifting your head only to immediately gasp, turning your head, covering your eyes with your hand.
“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” You insist, looking away, covering the side of your face with your hand. Heeseung looks at Jungwon, who’s leisurely wrapping his towel around his waist while Heeseung tucks himself back into his shorts.
“It’s fine,” Heeseung says, closing the toilet seat.
“No, I, uh, don’t think so. I’ll just… I’ll just go,” you say, turning around. “Sorry again. I didn’t- sorry.”
“No worries,” Jungwon says, tying the towel around his waist. You rush back out, closing the door behind you. You let out a breath, shaking your head to yourself. When you go back to your bedroom, you check the time on your phone.
Barely eight in the morning and you’ve already seen two different dicks. Is this a sign for how the day is going to go?
That night, you bring home dinner for you and Heeseung, your parents both working, as they tend to do. They still haven’t changed their routine from working long hours, due to being single parents for so long, so you and Heeseung are home alone a lot in the evenings, left to fend for yourselves. Tonight, you bring home food for the both of you, a meal and a quiet apology all at once. Heeseung looks up, surprised, when you come home from classes later than usual, putting a box of chicken on the coffee table in front of the couch where he’s stationed himself with his own studying. He looks up at you while you wrap your arms around yourself, giving him an awkward smile.
“What’s up?” He asks, slowly closing his textbook on his notebook.
“Just… dinner,” you say, nodding to the meal in front of him. Heeseung lifts a confused brow. “And… I’m sorry. About this morning.” Heeseung scoffs, shaking his head as he goes back to his studying. “Look, I know it’s not a big deal to you, but it is to me. I mean… I don’t want us to be uncomfortable around each other. And I really feel bad I didn’t get a chance to apologize to Jungwon, I mean—” Heeseung moves his notebook aside, closing his textbook loudly. You cut yourself off as he sets it aside, slowly rising to his feet.
“I’m not uncomfortable,” he informs you. “But you sure seem to be.” You blush, tucking your hair behind your ear, while Heeseung shifts his weight, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Look, it happens, okay? It was early in the morning and you’re usually awake before me. Jungwon and I got up early because we crashed early and he wanted a shower so I went to the bathroom. No big deal. You don’t need to be worried about it, I’m not stressed about you walking in on us.”
“But I saw—”
“What, my dick?” Heeseung asks crassly and you lift your eyes towards the ceiling, inexplicably embarrassed when he doesn’t seem to be. “Whatever. Who cares?” It surprises you that he’s so cool about his future step sister seeing his junk. “And if you’re worried Jungwon is embarrassed about you seeing his, he’s not, okay? Trust me.” He steps around the table to get closer to you. “I know it might be a big deal to a girl for a guy to see her naked, but to a dude? It’s not a big deal, so don’t worry about it.” You nod in understanding, biting the corner of your lip.
Heeseung gets closer to you, standing right at your shoulder and you stiffen up, surprised by his closeness. It’s rare you’ve ever been this close to him, unless it’s a brief moment in passing but Heeseung hovers over your shoulder now, in your personal space. He leans in, lips nearly brushing your ear when he does so.
“And for the record,” he adds, voice low, “Jungwon and I have nothing to be embarrassed about when it comes to our cocks anyway.” Your eyes widen and he leans back, walking towards the kitchen. You turn, watching him go. “You want something to drink?” He calls out, casual as ever. You swallow hard, trying to process his comment. Heeseung looks over at you from the kitchen island. “With dinner?” He prompts and you nod slowly.
“Yeah. Uh, just water is fine,” you tell him and he nods, turning to the fridge.
Heeseung’s comment stays in your brain, sitting at the forefront of your mind for far longer than it should. Mostly because you just don’t know why he even said it? Why would Heeseung make such a comment to you, what was the purpose? Of course the part about you not being embarrassed makes sense but to make such a crass comment about… his dick size? And not even just his, but his friend’s as well. Not only is it inappropriate but it’s just… a little bit strange to you.
You try to brush it aside but it’s hard to ignore, especially because you didn’t get a good look when you saw either of their dicks the first time. It’s like telling someone not to touch something or not to think about something, once you realize you don’t actually know, it’s all you can think about. Is he really that well endowed? Is Jungwon?
That’s inappropriate too, though, you realize. There is no reason you should be so curious about your future step brother’s dick size, that’s ridiculous. However…
Is it so inappropriate to be curious about Jungwon?
You can allow yourself to be curious about Jungwon. You think it might be crossing a boundary to be into your step brother’s friend, but is it really? Jungwon is the same age as you, in comparison to Heeseung who’s a few years older. You share classes, he seems sweet, and he’s very attractive. Would it be so bad to be interested in your step brother’s friend?
Reasoning your attraction and curiosity out, you start to notice Jungwon when he comes over more than before. Thankfully, he doesn’t bring up the bathroom incident so neither do you and the two of you go on about things as business as usual. He comes over, he works on the project with Heeseung, they shoot the shit for hours and he usually goes home. Sometimes he stays the night, but not too often. The only thing that really changes is that when you come down and see him working with your soon-to-be step brother, your eyes linger.
Your eyes linger much longer than they should when you look at Jungwon. You spend long moments hanging around in the kitchen, getting your drink or your snacks slowly, glancing over at them when Jungwon isn’t looking. At least, when you think he isn’t looking. It’s always better when they’re in the living room because you can see them from behind the kitchen island and you can let your eyes roam over all of him.
It’s those moments that Heeseung’s comment comes back around to the forefront of your mind, and your eyes drift from the broadness of his shoulders or the narrowness of his waist down to where his legs are splayed open. He and Heeseung both sit like boys, so they manspread severely, legs dropped open when they sit on the couch. You try your damnedest not to even glance at your future step brother even though his thighs are just as spread as Jungwon’s. Instead, you let your gaze drop down between Jungwon’s legs, trying to assess how truthful Heeseung’s comment was.
It’s hard to tell whenever he’s wearing jeans so you don’t get much from that, usually giving up in short order. But when he’s wearing sweats, when he comes by towards exam season and he’s in casual wear, it’s a little more obvious. He doesn’t wear anything too tight, but clearly Heeseung wasn’t being hyperbolic when he mentioned that they don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.
He’s soft, it’s not like he’s got a hard on when he comes over, but when he pulls his sweats up around his crotch when he sits down, you can see it where it lies against his thigh. Jungwon’s clearly sizable, well endowed for sure. You find yourself subconsciously licking your lips when you see it, turning your attention away when you think Jungwon is noticing you. You usually try to make a hasty escape back upstairs when that happens, hiding away in your bedroom and hopeful to take your mind off the fact that you’re starting to get wet between your own legs.
What you don’t know is that Jungwon knows you’re looking. He and Heeseung both, they know you’ve got wandering eyes ever since Heeseung said that to you. He was hopeful you would get curious, that you might start to look. He’s not surprised that your gaze seems to be mostly fixated on Jungwon, but still, it’s fun to watch you squirm. You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are, shifting against the island when you’re looking at Jungwon, your leaves a little too quick to not be suspicious. They both know what you’re doing, and Jungwon is more than willing to give you a show.
It starts when he starts wearing sweats to the house, adjusting his sweats around his crotch when he sits down, spreading his thighs for you to see. He knows you can see him, he knows you’re looking at his dick, so sometimes he reaches down and adjusts himself. He looks at you from the corner of his eye, resisting the urge to smirk when you start to blush. Sometimes he’ll just bring his hand down, resting it over himself, drawing even more of your attention to him. He’s not done anything too out of pocket yet but he’s thought about it.
He’s thought about letting his hand run up and down his cock, stroking himself over the top of his sweats. Jungwon’s wondered what your reaction might be to that, if you would stay to watch him touch himself, stay to watch him thicken up in his sweats. Would you like it as much as he would?
It’s a bit of a cat and mouse game, the two of you have going on. You just don’t realize that you’re the mouse.
The semester ends, and subsequently so does the school year. Your dad and Heeseung’s mother keep to their unexpected schedule and elope once the school year has ended, leaving you and your brand new step brother to stay in the house, by yourselves, for a whole month. You can’t bring yourself to be surprised by this turn of events but it is less than preferred, considering you and Heeseung are still barely friends. The idea of being alone with him for a whole month isn’t exactly on your list of things to do for the summer off from university.
“He’s a good kid,” your dad tells you when you call him once he and his new wife land in Okinawa for their honeymoon. “I know this is all unexpected and it’s kind of a lot, but you know I wouldn’t leave you with someone I don’t trust.” Begrudgingly, you agree. “Okay then. Besides, you’re only a few years his junior, I’m sure you’re just not used to each other yet. Give it some time. And hey, maybe this is what you need, a little more time just the two of you. Bonding or whatever.”
“Yeah, dad,” you sigh into the phone. “Bonding with my new big brother.”
The only upside to this summer is that you’re not being forced to spend evenings with Jungwon anymore. Heeseung said that they got a great grade on their semester project and that was that. He doesn’t have to hang around anymore, taking up all the space in the brain that you could be using for other things. Like finally going out and maybe finding a guy that will release all your pent up sexual energy that’s being projected onto Heeseung and Jungwon.
(You haven’t stopped thinking about Heeseung. You’ve been actively avoiding it but it’s still there, in the back of your mind, like a skeleton in the closet. As much as you’ve been focused on Jungwon, you literally live with Heeseung, who keeps hovering around you like a specter. His room is right next to yours, you share a bathroom, which you are now religiously knocking on before opening the door. He’s always there so as much as you’ve been trying to direct your sexual repression towards Jungwon, it’s hard to avoid Heeseung.)
At least, you thought so.
“So,” Heeseung says, leaning on the doorway of your bedroom, arms crossed over his chest. You look over at him from where you’re lying on your bed. You sit up, crossing your legs as you do so. There’s a silent stalemate between the two of you, trying not to let each other know how hard you’re both looking. Your gaze is sweeping over him as subtly as you can manage, from his exposed arms in his sleeveless top to the slight dick print in the front of his joggers. His eyes are trying to avoid staring at your nipples where they’re very evidently printed on the chest of your tank top, hesitantly glancing down towards your crotch where he can almost see up the leg of your tiny sleep shorts. “With both of our parents out,” he plows on, trying to bring his attention back to his point, “looks like it’s just us.”
“That would seem to be the case,” you agree. “Why?”
“Would it be cool if Jungwon stayed here a little while?” He asks and you freeze up.
Jungwon. Of all people, of all of Heeseung’s friends, he had to choose Jungwon. You’ve met Heeseung’s other friends, you know he has other friends and yet. And yet.
“Jungwon,” you repeat slowly and he nods. “Why?”
“His sister is driving him crazy,” Heeseung says, walking into your room. He pulls the chair out at your desk and sits down. Immediately, his legs are spread wide open, making his cock even more obvious as the material of his joggers stretches out. You force your eyes to stay on his face. “His noona’s well meaning but she’s engaged and out of school and totally piling on Jungwon whenever his parents nag him. He was hoping it would be cool if he stayed here for a little while, just to get out from under their well meaning thumbs.”
“Why here?” You ask. Heeseung laughs.
“Why else? Our parents are gone,” he points out and you roll your eyes. He makes a good point. “He already told them our parents were cool with it. The only hold up here is you.” You widen your eyes, pointing to yourself. “Jungwon didn’t want to stay if you didn’t say you were down. So, are you down?” He asks, lifting a brow.
You want to say no. You want to say no so bad. The idea of spending however long in this house, with just Heeseung and Jungwon as company, sounds like a nightmare. It sounds like you’re going to slowly lose your mind. But you can’t say no, because the only thing Heeseung’s going to think about you is that you’re a boring, stickler-for-the-rules sister that he’s never going to want to ask for anything ever again. At the very least, you want a decent, civil relationship with your step brother. So you cave.
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” you brush off like it doesn’t even matter. You pick your phone back up and drop back down on your bed. You don’t see the way Heeseung tilts his head, trying to look up your shorts, from behind your phone. “Just let me know when he’s coming by.”
“Sure thing,” Heeseung says, hopping up. “He’ll stay in mine, since I have that blow up mattress,” he tells you, headed for the door. You hum, only vaguely listening, dreading it. “Oh,” he says, stopping in the doorway of your room. He turns back and you look at him, lifting a brow. “Now that I’m your brother… do you want to call me oppa?” He suggests and you scoff.
“I’m good, thanks,” you tell him. He grins, turning away with a laugh.
“Just checking,” he comments. “See you, baby sister.”
“Yah!” You yell, sitting up in bed again. Heeseung’s laughter echoes in the hallway, only getting cut off by his bedroom door closing.
Jungwon comes by the next day and greets you politely. You greet him back, Heeseung taking Jungwon up to his bedroom, an arm wrapped around his shoulders. You quietly pray to every God you can think of that Jungwon doesn’t stay very long.
It takes less than a day for there to be a palpable energy around the house. It’s suffocating, the way that you can’t go anywhere without feeling like their eyes are on you. You know that it’s your brain, dramatizing everything, especially without school or your parents as a barrier between the three of you. Still, it’s enough that you end up locking the doors every time you go to your room or the bathroom. It’s enough to have you on the edge of your seat, feeling like any moment could be the moment one of you is going to snap, and you can’t be sure that it’s not going to be you. This alone convinces you to do something you never do: go to the club.
Your friend Kazuha insists even when you tell her that you’re feeling suffocated by your step brother and his friend. She says, “the school year is over and you are a single woman with no parental supervision. It would be a crime to not go out and do something dumb while you’re free and clear! I’m serious!” She is right, you have to admit to that, so you agree to go out with her and a few other of your other friends, getting dressed up and doing your makeup, the whole nine.
It’s while you’re putting your lipstick on that Jungwon knocks on the doorframe of your bedroom. You call out to him and he pushes your door the rest of the way open.
“Oh,” he says and you look over at him. “Uhm, going somewhere?” He asks, his eyes raking over your figure. It feels visceral, the weight of his eyes on your body. You’re dressed much nicer than you usually do, in a dress even, with your hair and face all done up. When you stand up you have to shimmy your skirt down your legs a little bit, covering your thighs further. Jungwon’s eyes are hot on your skin.
“I am,” you agree. You grab your boots from the rack by your closet, going over to the bed to put them on. “What’s up?”
“Uhm… hyung and I are going out. But I guess… you are too?” He hazards and you nod, zipping the sides of your boots up. “You… want a ride?” He asks but you shake your head, standing back up. You snag your purse from the back of your desk chair, looping it around yourself.
“My friends are picking me up,” you tell him, walking over to the door. Jungwon’s eyes run up and down you again and you can’t help the satisfaction that bubbles up, knowing he’s staring at you like that. It kind of feels like the shoe is on the other foot, with the way that Jungwon can’t take his eyes off of you. “You mind?” You ask and Jungwon clears his throat, stepping back to let you step out of your bedroom.
You head down the stairs with Jungwon hot on your heels, finding Heeseung in the living room, spinning his keyring on his finger. You knew he had a car, but he doesn’t often use it. Traffic in the city is insane enough, taking the bus is just easier than the hassle of dealing with other cars on the road. You get down to the bottom of the stairs and Heeseung looks over, catching his keys in the palm of his hand. His eyes immediately run up and down your figure, taking you in quickly.
“You… coming with us?” He asks but you shake your head.
“Friends are picking me up,” you relay to him as well. He looks around you to Jungwon, who shrugs. “The girls wanted me to go out with them tonight. So, don’t wait up, okay?” You say, reaching over to touch him gently on the shoulder. Heeseung nods, turning his head to watch you go. You snag your keys and open the door, pausing to look back at them. “Have fun, boys!” You chirp and then close the door behind you.
It’s nearly three in the morning when you come back to the house, gently closing the door behind you. You saw Heeseung’s car parked outside, so clearly the guys are already back, and you really don’t want them to know that you’re getting home so late. It’s rare you go out, the last thing you want the two of them to think is that you do this often. You take your boots off, carrying them through the house to avoid making as much noise as possible as you creep up towards your bedroom.
You’ve just opened your bedroom door when the door beside your bedroom opens suddenly. You freeze up, fear coursing through you as Heeseung steps out. In retrospect, you should’ve just gone into your room and you probably would’ve avoided everything that comes after, but you don’t. Instead you stand stock still in the hallway as Heeseung closes the door behind him, leaning back against it with his arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re home late,” he comments.
“Yeah,” you say, lifting a hand to adjust your hair to fall over the shoulder facing him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just about to go to bed.”
“I’ve been awake this whole time,” Heeseung informs you and you swallow thickly. He turns his head to look at you. He looks angry, which is strange and unexpected. “What the hell were you thinking, staying out this late? It’s nearly three in the morning, you know that? You think that’s appropriate?”
“Excuse me?” You ask, set on edge with the way he’s talking to you. “What’s it to you what time I’m coming home from a night out? In case you forgot, I’m an adult and you’re barely my older brother.” Heeseung’s jaw clenches. “You have no right to tell me what is and isn’t appropriate for me. If I want to go out until three in the morning, that’s my business. And I told you not to wait up for me, so maybe you should’ve just gone to bed.” You push your bedroom door open further, stepping inside. Heeseung hisses between his teeth, following you into your bedroom.
You turn around when you hear the door close behind you, opening your mouth to tell him to get out when his hand is suddenly on your waist, pulling you in. You gasp as he drags you closer to him, flicking your hair back from your neck. You lift a hand to cover your neck but Heeseung is faster, grabbing your wrist with his free hand. You’re shocked still by his sudden aggressiveness.
“I knew it,” he says, smirking at you. “Is that why you stayed out so late, you were too busy fucking around with boys?” He shoves you towards the bed, causing you to stumble backwards, landing on the edge of your bed. Your neck is mottled with red and purple bruises from the guy you met and subsequently fucked in the club. You were hoping to keep that to yourself, you didn’t want the guys to know what you were doing at the club. It’s too late for that now though, and your silence seems to only incense him further.
Heeseung is on you the next second, forcing you down onto your bed, climbing on top of you. You struggle to get him off of you but he has your wrists in his hands, pinning them to your bed. You aren’t strong enough to get him off of you, he’s too big and heavy for you to struggle out from underneath. He drags your hands up above your head, holding both of your wrists down with just one of his. He takes your jaw in hand with his free one, forcing you to look up at him.
“Is this what you went out for?” He asks, holding you in place. “Is this what you wanted? Just a filthy little slut, aren’t you? Let a man put his hands all over you, cover you in fucking bruises. My precious baby sister, such a fucking whore.”
“Get off of me!” You complain, still trying to thrash underneath him. “I’m not! You’re just jealous!”
“Oh, I’m jealous,” Heeseung laughs, voice softening into a more mocking tone. “I’m jealous of some punk who put his hands all over you. I have nothing to be jealous of, you’re the one who chose some fucking asshole when I’ve been right here this whole fucking time. Why would I be jealous of some limp dicked punk who probably didn’t even make you come?”
You bite back your retort, because he didn’t make you come. He fucked you in the bathroom stall, too hard and fast for it to be pleasurable at all, and then came into the condom. When he asked if it was good you panted out a, “yeah,” and let it go because it wasn’t even worth it. When you came back to the table the girls asked you if he was good and you didn’t even get a chance to lie before Yunjin was patting your hand and telling you it happens and not to be discouraged. It fills you with so much shame, you’re embarrassed and frustrated because you know your thong is soaked through from being turned on but never reaching orgasm. But you don’t want to give Heeseung the satisfaction.
“You think you’re so fucking good in bed, don’t you?” You retort instead and Heeseung moves his hand from your jaw to your throat, squeezing. It makes your breath catch but you continue. “Think you’re some hot shit, make a girl come so easily. You don’t know shit.”
“I know you’re bluffing,” Heeseung says with a smirk. “I know you’re fucking dripping.” He lets his hand slide down your neck, over your chest, taking his time to squeeze your breast tightly. You resist the urge to moan as he does so, only for his hand to keep going until he’s fisting the bottom of your dress where it’s stretched around your thighs, Heeseung balancing on your legs. He pulls the hem up, nearly to your navel and shoves his hand down between your legs. You gasp as he does so, his hand cupping your wet cunt. “Oh, you didn’t come, did you?” He teases you, and you try to close your legs around his hand. “Ah, ah,” he says, dropping a leg down between yours. He uses his knee to pry your legs further open, allowing him to run his fingers over your wet thong. “Pretty little cunt’s so wet, isn’t it? So wet and needy, I know you didn’t fucking come. I bet you’ve been on edge this whole fucking time.”
“Get off of me.”
“No, baby,” Heeseung tells you, hooking a finger around your thong to pull it to the side. “Why would I get off of you when you’re right where I want you.” He takes his hand back and adjusts to stand between your legs. He pushes his sweats down off of his hips, revealing his cock. You gasp when you look down and see him already standing erect between his thighs. “I’m gonna teach you a lesson, baby.” He guides the swollen head of his cock to your exposed slit, running it up and down, collecting your wetness. You whimper, trying to close your legs but Heeseung’s legs are in the way. “You wanna play stupid games? Well, here’s your fucking prize.”
His cock splits you open when he shoves himself in to the base all at once. You cry out, back arching, eyes rolling as he fills you abruptly. He’s so much bigger than the guy your fucked at the club the stretch of him aches, thick and long and so deep inside of you it feels like he’s inside of your gut. You’re so wet your cunt swallows him up easily, pleasure surging through you immediately. Heeseung groans deeply, the hot press of your pussy around him so much better than he even imagined.
“Look at you,” Heeseung coos, rocking his hips slowly into you. He reaches down to pick up one of your knees, hooking it over his hip. It stretches you open further, giving him more room. “Fuck, you’re so much better than I even imagined. Such a good girl for me, now that I’ve stuffed you with my cock, huh? You’re gonna be a good girl for me?”
“Heeseung,” you whine, hands flexing, wrists pushing up against his palm. He presses down harder, the pressure around your wrists enough to hurt. “Let go, please, let go.” You writhe underneath him, wishing for just that little bit more range of motion, trapped into a pin as you are, making it even more difficult to chase his thrusts.
“Are you gonna be good?” He asks, picking up the pace with his thrusts. The strength of his thrusts shakes you with every push of his hips against yours, the sounds of skin against skin and the bed creaking under your combined movements filling the room. The longer it goes on the wetter it sounds and you nod, desperate. You’re so on edge, so needy to come after your ruined orgasm earlier that you can’t help yourself. Your breath comes out in short little gasps, whining every time he buries himself inside of you. “Yeah, you’re gonna be good for me. Baby sister.”
The name shutters through you. It’s so fucked up, you’re barely his sister but it seems to get him off, the control in those words. At this point, you’ll say anything, you’ll do anything if it means Heeseung gets you to come so you agree.
“Yes, yes,” you whine. “Please, please, oppa.” It just comes out of you. Heeseung groans, hips stuttering like he can’t control it. He lets go of your hands to instead grab your other thigh, hoisting your legs over his shoulders instead. He bends you in half on the edge of your bed, the new angle shoving him in even deeper, pressing him right up against your g spot, hands on either side of your waist. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming, closing your hands around his wrists, nails digging crescents into his skin. Heeseung fucks you hard and fast, but he’s skilled unlike that other guy, he fucks you with such precision you’re shaking, trembling underneath him.
“Gonna make you fucking come,” Heeseung promises you. “I’m gonna make you come so hard all over my cock.” You whine helplessly underneath him as he holds you down just by bearing his weight down onto you, pressing you down into the mattress with every thrust. Your orgasm is right there, you can feel it, right at the precipice of falling over, your entire world narrowing down to the feeling of Heeseung’s cock buried balls deep inside of you.
Heeseung rips his hand from yours, your fingers instead fisting the blankets while he shoves his hand between your legs when you begin to writhe around, finding your clit with practiced ease. He rubs your clit roughly, sending a shower of sparks through you. It finally throws you over the edge, your cunt clenching hard around him. Heeseung’s hips stutter again, your cunt so tight around him he can barely stave off his own orgasm. He pulls out of you abruptly, making you whine and then lets go of you to stroke himself quickly. Your legs fall off of his shoulders, hitting the floor and spreading you open for him. Heeseung bites out moans as he jerks himself off, his cock covered in a layer of your cum and slick, messy and wet.
He grunts lowly as he comes, splattering cum all over your used pussy. You gasp at the first spurt of warm cum that sprays onto your cunt and stains your thong where it’s still pulled to the side, dripping over your mound and down over your folds. Heeseung jerks himself off slowly, milking his orgasm, intent on covering your pussy in every last drop of himself. When he’s finally done, cock softening in his hand he lets go of himself and leans over you.
“Open your mouth,” he tells you and you, blissed out and obedient, do as he says. He runs two fingers over your cum covered cunt and then brings them up, pushing them into your mouth. He smears the cum over your tongue, watching as you close your mouth around his fingers, sucking the taste of both of you off of his digits. “What a good girl, my baby sister is,” he coos, pulling his fingers out of your mouth.
When you wake up in the morning, you hesitate in the doorway of your bedroom. You look over at Heeseung’s bedroom door, the door still closed after Heeseung went back to his room last night.
“You won’t tell anyone, right?” You ask, changing out of your club outfit after Heeseung cleaned you up. He scoffs, tossing the washcloth he used to clean you up in your hamper. He turns to you, walking over to turn you around and take your chin in his fingers, tipping your head up. You cover your chest, still only half dressed. He smirks, pulling your hands down away from your breasts. You try to shrink away from him but Heeseung cups one of your breasts in hand, holding you still by your chin as he gropes you, circling your pert nipple with his thumb. It feels better than you want to admit, letting him touch you.
“Why would I ever tell anyone? I wouldn’t want to ruin this for either of us.” He leans down, kissing you. It’s the first time he’s kissed you and he does so aggressively, shoving his tongue into your mouth, tasting the linger flavor of cum on your tongue. He moans into your mouth and you reach out, resting your hands on his shoulders. He lets go of your chin and chest to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you up against him. You moan softly into his mouth, unable to help yourself. When he pulls back, he nips softly at your lower lip. “I won’t tell anyone,” he assures you. “Just as long as you never try to pull at a club ever again. You have cock at home.”
“Yes, oppa.” You can feel it when he shivers.
You go to the bathroom, trying to move past it. Of all the taboo relationships in the world, you’re willingly letting your step brother fuck you. Still, it’s not like you’re the only one who wants it and it’s not like you’re actually related. You wonder if you can reason anything out as you get ready to shower, thinking back to how you reasoned out not feeling bad about being attracted to Jungwon.
God, Jungwon. You almost forgot.
You try to push that thought aside as you start the shower, stripping out of your clothes. You step into the stall once the water is hot, dipping underneath the spray. Starting your shower routine, you pour shampoo into your hand, beginning to scrub it through your hair. With your eyes closed and your music playing and the shower going overhead, you don’t hear anything. You don’t even hear the sound of the door opening.
While you’re washing and rinsing your hair you remain blissfully aware of the person outside the shower stall. They open the shower stall door and you sigh, fully expecting it to be Heeseung. If he’s this insatiable, you don’t know what you’re going to do.
“Already, oppa?” You say, eyes still closed, hair near completely rinsed out.
“Wrong person.” Your eyes open as you straighten your head, finding Jungwon in front of you. You open your mouth but Jungwon curls a hand over your hip, the other covering your mouth, pressing you up against him while silencing you at the same time. “What’s wrong, you were expecting hyung? No surprise there, considering the way you were two were fucking like animals last night.” Your eyes widen, panic lancing through you. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. But everything has a price.” He slowly lowers his hand from your mouth.
You weren’t going to scream anyway, no one was going to come to your rescue. Knowing the two of them, if Heeseung were to find Jungwon in here with you, he might just join in. Then again, he was terribly jealous of the idea of someone else being with you last night. God, you just can’t get a read on Heeseung. He seems like such a nice guy, nice enough that your dad insisted that you would be safe with him, that he trusted him.
Well, he clearly also has no idea.
“You want me to fuck you for your silence?” You ask, lifting a brow at him.
“As if you don’t already want to,” he retorts. “You think I didn’t see the way you would stare directly at my dick this past semester?” You flush, which surprises you because at this point, what do you even have to be embarrassed about? Jungwon overheard you getting fucked by your step brother. “What’s wrong, you really think I’m gonna buy that you’re shy? You’re covered in bruises and I know hyung didn’t do that to you.” Damn the hickeys on your neck. He gently tilts your chin up with a finger. “That guy really made a mess of you, huh? And for what? A subpar fuck?”
“You and Heeseung really have big dick complexes, huh?” You comment, unable to help yourself. Jungwon narrows his eyes at you and then turns you, pushing you up against the wall. You gasp, surprised by the cold tile against your back. He leans in, sliding a hand down your side, towards your hip and then your thigh. He hooks your leg over his hip, your muscles aching from the way you were bent in half just last night.
“It’s not a complex, if it’s true,” Jungwon tells you. He brings his other hand down between your legs, running his fingers over your cunt. “Already getting wet for me?” He asks, pushing his fingers up into you. You grip his shoulders, surprised by the sudden intrusion. You’re still loose from last night but you ache a little bit, your walls protesting against the way he prods at them. “Look at that. You are a filthy slut, aren’t you? Already so desperate to get dicked down again?”
You glance down between his legs and swallow. All those times you saw his dick print in his sweats and you thought for sure he was big, at least you can say you were right. His cock is already protruding lewdly from between his thighs, rosy at the tip with prominent veins running down the side. He’s not bigger than Heeseung but he is plenty big, enough that you already know it’s going to feel like he’s splitting you open.
“What’s wrong?” He asks and you glance back up at him. “Don’t worry, baby, it’s gonna fit. You took Heeseung after all.”
“You guys comparing dick sizes when I’m not looking?” You quip and Jungwon laughs.
“Why? Only men who have something to prove do that.” He takes his cock in hand and pulls you closer, tilting your hips up against his. He slides the head of his cock up and down your slit, the tip bumping your clit with every slide. Pleasure begins to pool inside of you, your cunt wetting further as he does so. “What do we have to prove?” He pushes up inside of you, making you gasp, mouth dropping open as he fills you. “Fuck, you’re still so tight,” he groans, splaying a hand on the wall beside your head as he starts rocking his hips into yours, deeper and deeper, filling you full.
“Jungwon,” you whine, tipping your head back against the wall. The tile is a cool contrast to the heat of his body, the heat of the water still spraying onto you. It grounds you against the way Jungwon is fucking you, faster and faster, your body shaking against the wall. You might actually leave this shower with bruises, the way Jungwon is jostling you with every thrust.
The sound of skin against skin, the slapping of wet skin and your panting and his moans fill the bathroom. It echoes out through the room over the sound of the shower, your music doing little to drown out the sounds of your fucking. You gasp through every rough thrust, clutching hard at Jungwon’s shoulders as he fucks you, the sound of your blood rushing through you is loud in your ears, your cunt pulsing, clenching and unclenching with every precise thrust of his hips into yours.
“Fuck,” Jungwon curses, and then pulls out. You whine at the loss, only to be turned over. Your previously suspended leg lands shakily as Jungwon lets go of you, instead pressing your shoulder to the wall, reeling your hips back with his other hand. Your breasts are pressed against the cool tile, your hands scrabbling against it as Jungwon aligns himself again, sheathing himself back into you with one hard thrust. You moan, eyes rolling back, cheek against the tile as you’re filled again. This time at an even better angle.
“Oh, God,” you moan, trying to fuck yourself back on his cock.
“Yeah, that’s good?” Jungwon asks, pressing his fingers hard into your hips. “That’s what you like, when I take you from behind. When I fuck this tight pussy from the back.” He lets go of your shoulder to bring his hand down on your ass, the smack of his hand on your bare ass echoing through the room. You yelp, the pain shocking your system and making your whole body tingle. “Yeah, you’re a filthy little slut, aren’t you? Getting off on the pain?” He spanks you again, harder, on the other cheek. You whine, rocking your hips back against his desperately.
Pleasure is rolling through you with every thrust, every roll of his hips into yours. The contrasting sensation of being wrapped in the hot humid shower against the cool of the tile and the pressure of his cock stretching you out turning your nerves up to 11, too much for you to focus on. Your pussy clenches around him, trying to draw him in deeper and deeper, not that you think it’s possible, the way it feels like he’s found the angle to shove his cock right up against your cervix. It almost hurts how hard he’s fucking you, and you bring your hand down between your legs, trying to touch your clit, trying to get over the edge.
“Making yourself come?” Jungwon teases you. You whine, nodding against the tile. “You wanna come, huh? You wanna come on my cock?” You whine louder, still nodding frantically. “That’s a good girl. Come all over my cock, huh? Come on me, make me come inside that pussy.”
You double your efforts, trembling every time Jungwon slaps your ass. Your pussy clenches with every strike, your fingers working hard over your clit. You’re gasping, whining, moaning into the tile as Jungwon basically rails you, until you’re coming. Your pussy clenches hard as pleasure rolls through you, white hot and all consuming.
Jungwon gets two more hard thrusts into you, hard enough to throw you against the wall, almost bruisingly hard, and then comes. You can feel it, the wet feeling of him filling you up. And he comes copiously, filling you and then some, causing some of his cum to spill out around his cock. When he pulls out cum trickles out of you, spilling down your thighs and splashing onto the floor of the shower stall.
Jungwon grabs you by the shoulder, turning you back around. You’re still trying to catch your breath when he leans in, kissing you hard. Your mouth is lax, easily allowing him to fuck his tongue into your mouth. You moan into his lips, grabbing at his neck and shoulder while he digs his fingers into your hips. When he pulls back he smiles softly, lifting a hand to brush his thumb over your lower lip.
“I can’t believe I waited this long for this fucking pussy.” He kisses you once more. “I’d never fucking tell anyone about who’s cock you’re taking as long as it means this pussy is mine too.”
You have to finish your shower on shaky legs, climbing out hastily once you’re done to escape Jungwon’s pressing gaze. Once hidden away in your bedroom, you think critically about what you’ve gotten yourself into.
When you go down to the living room, Heeseung and Jungwon are sitting side by side like nothing is different. It sort of frustrates you, the fact that the two of them are lounging around like they are, completely unconcerned. You run a hand through your hair, shaking your head as you go into the kitchen to make yourself breakfast. You’ve just finished eating and are headed back up to your room when Heeseung calls out to you.
“What?” You say, annoyed.
“What’s with the attitude?” He asks, bringing his phone down to his lap. “Am I gonna have to teach you another lesson?” You bite your tongue, shaking your head at him. “C’mere,” he tells you and you cross the living room to him. You have to walk past Jungwon, who is pretending to not notice you, still staring at his phone. You know he’s faking, what with the way he’s got his hand resting over his crotch. Besides, he already gave himself away, telling you he noticed when you would look at him. He’s hardly as innocent as he seems.
You stand in front of your step brother, who reaches over to set his phone on the coffee table. He leans forward, looking up at you as he trails his hands up your legs. You stiffen up, half expecting it but still startled that he’s being so forward about it. Heeseung’s hands drift from your knees to your thighs, up the insides of your legs until they’re sneaking right up the crotch of your shorts. You gasp, your whole body flinching and causing you to grip his shoulders when he shoves two fingers up inside of you.
“Just as I thought,” he says. “When are you going to learn to wear actual underwear around the house?” He asks, pushing his fingers knuckle deep inside of you, completely unconcerned with the thin strip of fabric that makes up your thong. You’re barely wet enough to handle them, two of his fingers stretching you open. Were it not for the way Jungwon’s already fucked you this morning you probably wouldn’t be able to handle it. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he scissors his fingers, opening you wider and your mouth falls open, whining. “Surely you’ve gotten used to living with me by now, you should know better than to walk around in these clothes. You know how men can be. Just can’t help themselves.” He fucks his fingers into you, making you shake.
“Hee- Heeseung,” you shake out.
“So I am going to have to teach you a lesson, aren’t I, baby sister?” Heeseung tells you, beginning to fuck his fingers in and out of you, your cunt beginning to wet around his fingers. You glance to the side but Jungwon isn’t even looking at you, even if he has cupped himself in his sweats, squeezing around the base. He’s getting off on this. “Maybe you’ll learn not to go around the house half naked anymore.”
You’re shocked when you’re suddenly laid out on the coffee table, Heeseung leaning over the top of you. He doesn’t waste any time, pushing his sweats down while withdrawing his fingers from inside of your cunt. You open your mouth to protest but before you can, your head is being pulled back, over the edge of the table, a hand on your throat. You wheeze around the feeling, looking up to see Jungwon looking down at you.
“It’s like hyung told you,” he says, also shoving his sweats down. He’s hard already, despite already having fucked you in the shower. He prys your mouth open with a thumb hooked into your mouth, forcing you to open your mouth as wide as possible. “Men just can’t help themselves.”
He feeds his cock into your mouth, forcing your jaw to stay open. You nearly choke as Heeseung holds your legs up, pushing his cock into your pussy. Your eyes roll back, your fingers gripping the edges of the coffee table as Heeseung starts to fuck you, Jungwon working his own cock in and out of your mouth. You try to focus on opening your throat, allowing him to slide as deep as he can, but it just makes you gag, spit welling in your mouth and spilling from the corners, down your face. You can hear how wet you’re getting from being used, Heeseung’s hips slapping against yours, surely soaking your shorts, which he still hasn’t taken off. Your tears spill from gagging on Jungwon’s cock, messying your face further as Jungwon fucks himself into your mouth.
“This is what you need, isn’t it?” Jungwon says, pressing his hand on your throat, feeling himself when he fucks in deep. You gag and choke around him when he presses in as deep as he can, forcing you to take as much of him as possible. He can feel it when your throat expands around his cock. “Every time you get a little mouthy, we just need to make sure you don’t have the ability to speak.”
“She’s just bratty because she wants cock,” Heeseung says, grinding his dick into you. You whine around the cock in your mouth, Jungwon finally pulling out to let you breathe. You can’t even see, tears stinging your eyes as they drip up the sides of your face with the way your head is hanging over the edge of the table. You’re also starting to get light headed from the angle you’re lying, making you extra sensitive to the way Heeseung is pounding into you, over and over again, shoving his cock so deep you think he might be bullying your cervix.
“Please,” you whine and Jungwon laughs.
“Please what? You need more?” He presses the tip of his cock against your lips and you drop your mouth open again, letting him shove it inside. You gag wetly while he rests his hand on your throat again, beginning to rock his hips into your mouth. “Look at how good you’re being now. Maybe you did just need cock. Is that the problem, you go without dick too long and you develop an attitude problem.” He buries himself so deep into your throat your eyes roll back, barely able to breathe around him.
“If I knew the best way to control you was just to fuck you, I would’ve done this a long time ago,” Heeseung groans out. He brings your legs over his shoulders, making you whine from the stretch on your muscles, leaning over you and gripping the edges of the table for leverage as he fucks into you, fast and hard and deep, your muscles protesting against being spread open. Still, the ache is an edge that keeps you from floating away completely, your pleasure building unrelentingly. You can feel it in your hips, settling heavily between your legs, and the hot weight of Jungwon in your mouth feeding into it. The lightheadedness is getting worse, all you can think about is opening your mouth further, the persistent feeling of being filled from both ends. Jungwon throbs on your tongue and you moan, writhing against Heeseung’s cock.
Abruptly, Jungwon pulls out of your mouth, finally letting you breathe. He looks down at you as he runs his hand over his cock, over and over, stroking himself. He shoves your tank top down, revealing your tits to the room, nipples hard and breasts jiggling with every hard thrust into your pussy. You’re too fucked out to think, moaning and gasping through every thrust, staring hazy eyed at Jungwon’s cock.
He leans forward over you, groaning as he finally comes. When he does he spills all over your tits, covering you in his cum. It’s warm, wet and thick, coating your breasts in pearlescent white. He strokes long and slow over his cock, squeezing on the upstroke to drip every last drop over your tits. Heeseung chuckles when he sees it, your boobs coated in all of Jungwon’s spunk.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Cover her in cum. That’s a good idea, Wonnie.” You’re disappointed, whining when he pulls out. Heeseung rips your shorts off of you, stroking himself to make himself come as well. You writhe around, hoping to come but Jungwon holds you down by the shoulders while Heeseung lets your legs fall to the floor, kicking at your ankles to give him some room.
“No, no, no,” you whine. “Please, I wanna come.”
“Who said you were going to come?” Jungwon whispers and you whine, thrashing around. “Brats don’t get to come.”
“Now be a good baby sister and let your big brother come on you,” Heeseung teases you. “Ooh, fuck,” he bites out, slowly stroking down the length of his cock as he comes all over your hips. It spurts over your skin, dripping down between your legs, staining your thong yet again. You whimper, frustrated and disappointed as Heeseung coats you in his own cum, spilling messily all over you. More tears build in your eyes, your cunt clenching and unclenching around nothing, desperate to get off.
Once he’s done Jungwon gets off of you and you let out a dry sob.
“Oh, poor baby,” Heeseung mocks you. “You wanted to come?”
“Please,” you whimper. “Please, I wanna come. Please, you both made me come so hard. Please, let me come. I wanna come for you,” you babble, desperate enough that all decorum is lost. The idea of begging for an orgasm is beneath you but all strung out and covered in cum, what choice do you have?”
“You wanna come for us?” Jungwon teases you, crouching down to meet your gaze. You sniffle, nodding. “You gonna be good?”
“I’ll be good. I’ll be good, please,” you beg and Jungwon wipes a finger over your spit and tear stained cheek.
“She’s begging.”
“I always knew she would,” Heeseung says. “Stay still, baby, we’ll let you come,” Heeseung teases you, letting his fingers circle your clit. You gasp a shaky moan as Jungwon walks around the table to join Heeseung between your spread legs. Jungwon gets down on his knees and buries his face into your cunt, fucking his tongue inside of you. You flinch, surprised by the sensation while Heeseung plays with your clit, beginning to stroke over your sensitive bundle of nerves roughly. You whimper, your orgasm starting to build again, your hips trying to writhe against their attention.
Jungwon pulls back and Heeseung slaps your clit, making you cry out.
“Stay still,” Jungwon tells you and you try your best to do as he says. Once still again, they resume touching you, Jungwon’s tongue and lips eating out your pussy while Heeseung rubs your clit. You force your hips to stay flat against the table, fighting the urge to buck against Jungwon’s face as they keep going. Your orgasm is so close, your pussy is spasming around Jungwon’s tongue, clit throbbing underneath Heeseung’s fingers.
“Close, close, close—” You whine, trembling with need as you attempt to stay as still as possible, hands clenching the edges of the coffee table. “Fuck, fuck,” you gasp out, only for your body to suddenly tense up, practically convulsing as you come.
Jungwon sucks at your cunt, lapping up your release as you come all over his mouth and Heeseung’s fingers. You shake through it, your orgasm unbearably intense. You can’t think, white spots dance in your vision while you tremble on the table. Even when you’re done, your body is wracked with aftershocks, shaking you down to your very core. When you collapse, muscles weak, against the coffee table, only then do they back off, Heeseung sucking your release from his fingertips.
“Kids!” You pull your feet back from where they were resting in Heeseung’s lap, Heeseung tucking his hand under his thigh as you do so. “We’re home!” Your step mom calls out as they come into the house. Neither of you move and she comes into the living room to see the two of you sitting together on the couch. “Oh. Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?”
“Hey, eomma,” Heeseung greets her. “How was your honeymoon?”
“It was great,” she says. “And you two… got along while we were gone, right?” She says, pointing between the two of you.
“Eomma,” Heeseung laughs.
“Heeseung and I got along great while you were gone,” you assure them. Your dad joins his new wife in the living room, resting an arm around her shoulders. “You were right, dad, Heeseung’s a great guy. We got…” you look over at him and he meets your gaze, “really close while you guys were gone.”
“That’s great!” You dad says. “See, I knew you guys just needed some time together. You know, you are siblings now, so it’s good for you to get along so well.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Heeseung tells him. “Oh, hey, eomma,” he says and she hums. “Jungwon invited the guys and I to his parents’ guest house in Sokcho for a couple of weeks later this summer. It’s cool if I go, right?”
“Of course, I trust Jungwon,” she agrees.
“Well, he actually invited Y/N too,” Heeseung says and your dad tilts his head. “It’s just gonna be us and our friends at his guest house. It’s his parents’ place, so no parties, and it’s all gonna be really safe. But I totally understand if you don’t want Y/N around a bunch of guys for two weeks,” he tells your dad.
“I dunno…”
“Dad, I know these guys,” you tell him. “You met Jungwon and Heeseung’ll be there and I promise we’re not gonna do anything dumb or dangerous while I’m there. Please, can I go?”
“C’mon, yeobo,” your step mom wheedles and your dad sighs softly. “It would be nice for Heeseung and Y/N to hang out together with some of Heeseung’s friends. It means that they want to be friends with her too,” she points out and you can practically see your dad crumbling.
“Okay,” he relents and you grin. “Okay, you can go.” You look at Heeseung, who smiles back. “However,” he adds, “Heeseung, I’m counting on you to take care of my little girl. You’re her brother now, so it’s your responsibility to keep her safe.”
“Dad,” you complain. “I’m an adult.”
“C’mon, your dad’s just worried about you,” Heeseung says, reaching over to rest a hand on your shoulder. “No worries, I’ll make sure I take care of my little sister.”
“That’s my boy,” his mother tells him.
The two of you retreat to your rooms, you saying you were gonna take a nap and Heeseung to call the guys. Your parents wave you off and the two of you rush up the stairs. Heeseung is close behind you, glancing back to make sure they’re not following you. Your bedroom door comes up first, which you open, and then reach back for him. You grab Heeseung by the front of his shirt, Heeseung smirking as you tug him in, closing and locking the door behind you.
He presses you up against the door, cupping your cheek in his hand. You lean up, meeting his lips in a messy, desperate kiss.
Your parents being back might mean that your wanton sex might have to stop, but that’s not going to keep the two of you away from each other. Or Jungwon for that matter. These past three weeks have been nothing less than a sex marathon, with the way the two of them have had you in every place in the house, in every position imaginable.
Heeseung bent you over the kitchen counter, you rode Jungwon in the living room couch, the both of them have taken you in the shower, on the kitchen table, hell, even the floor. Once past your initial uncertainty, it was like the floodgates had opened. You couldn’t take your hands off of either one of them, and neither could they. The taboo nature only made you hotter, desperate to have Heeseung as much as possible without your parents knowing. And Jungwon was just icing on the cake, your step brother’s best friend who couldn’t help himself.
Needless to say, no one else is going on this “vacation” in Sokcho the three of you devised. Nothing more than a golden opportunity for the three of you to keep messing around without prying eyes, without anyone knowing.
“You gonna call Wonnie?” You ask, fisting the front of his t-shirt in your hands.
“I’ll call him later,” he tells you, stealing another kiss. “Right now, I’m going to fuck you with our parents downstairs. So you better be quiet or your dad’s gonna know just how good of an older brother I am to you.” You grin, kissing him again as Heeseung’s hands drop down to the button of your shorts.
a/n: *the characters in the above fic engage in dubiously consensual sex as well as unprotected sex, i do not condone either of these actions as they are both inherently dangerous and irresponsible acts; in real life i urge you to engage in safe sex practices such as the use of contraceptives and condoms and to only engage with partners you enthusiastically consent to sexual activities with and to protect yourself against individuals who engage in dangerous acts such as those described above. remember: safe sex saves lives!
yes, it has an opening ending! i usually never open end things unless i am sure i am going to continue it but in this case, i'm leaving it as is to test engagement with this sort of concept. please do not see it as me withholding content, i am simply reserving judgement to see if you all would want to see more of this and if you do, well... we might have another series on our hands.
i really loved this one and if you've been watching, i've been hinting at this a lot. all the time, really, because it was such a fun, absurd concept to play with. i never thought stepcest would be my thing but i had a great time and i hope you did too! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging so i can get an accurate idea as to whether or not people would like this more of this. otherwise, thanks for reading and i love you! 💕
++++ went to the kpop store and i almost bought a ni-ki album but i decided to spend it on photocards instead guys i cant be trusted with disposable money
⋮ ⌗ ┆概要 ⨾ festivals are your favourite way to let loose, forgetting the growing pains of adulthood, surrounded by good music and better friends. in true festival fashion, your friends adopt another friendship group of guys who make you laugh till your belly hurts and hoist you on their shoulders for your favourite dj sets. the weekend promises everything you could wish for, a chance at romance too. ── ❪playlist❫
festival goer!李灿荣 𝔁𝒻 .ᐟ读者 ── 15.8k
explicit content ⋆ smut (mdni)、fluff、heavy mentions of and scenes of recreational drug use、alcohol consumption、(slightly condescending) dom!anton、 sub!reader、vaginal fingering、oral (f.rec), unprotected sex (don't do this)、creampie、multiple smut scenes、squirting、 petnames used: angel、baby、dirty/needy/pretty girl. guest appearances by: bae & sullyoon (nmixx)、kazuha & yunjin (lesserafim)、heejin & choerry (loona)、ot7 riize. ⌇ℳ.list
⋮ ⌗ ┆便条 ⨾ my sweet labour of love (╥﹏╥) to think, this has been in my drafts since early october of last year, stuck at 2k until last week....we've come so far t-t BIG BIG thank you to the fishbowl server for suffering through this wip and sprinting with me till i finished this. words can't quite express how thankful and lucky i am to have you guys in my life 🥹 while acl anton was the first inspiration of this fic, the rest comes from stories told and memories shared with friends i wouldn't trade for the world. despite how daunting the word count may be, i do hope you can enjoy this fic and find bits of your own story told in here too hehe. much loveeeeee! <333
Summer to you starts in August.
Sure, you'd run your last academic marathon at the end of June, with July spent shackle-free back home where you'd meet up with friends who aren't the same anymore after uni. You'd swelter in the sun, cause havoc in beer gardens and star gaze when the sun finally set after 10. It's the break you've been craving, the aches and pains of academia eased away by the leisure by the warm weather. But it wasn't summer.
Summer to you is the first week of August.
When your university friends and yourself would all pool into your deserted uni town, catching up and reminiscing the night before setting out on a seven hour long drive. First year is when all seven of you go, split between two cars, driving down south to the surfer's paradise of sandy beaches and a blue ocean stretching far beyond the eye. Broadmasters is the first festival you attend, your parents too rigid in fear to let you go beforehand because to them, the only purpose festivals served was for to do drugs.
You can't fault them really, because your first Boardmasters sees you drop your first pill, shapes and colours crossing your line of sight at a rave in the woods. It's an out-of-body experience, pupils blown wide and body brimming with unconditional love as your body moves slow and fluid, as if stuck in honey. Despite the lack of showers and kicked-up sand, it's one of your favourite weekends, long talked after you leave the festival on a cliff. Surrounded by your dearest girls, sticking together in the packed pit of festival goers, pumping your fists to dance and grime. Nothing quite bonds a group of people together like tripping balls, peeing in bushes when the portable toilets are too sickening to enter.
When you're not nodding along to the music, you're swinging through the air of the select carnivals ride, trying not to throw up your breakfast of pains au chocolat and vodka orange juice. When you're not getting a tan on the white beach, you're jumbled together with avid surfers watching the festival's competition unfold, monstrous waves so close you're convinced they'll swallow you whole. And when you leave on Monday morning, sunburnt with sand in between your toes and a hoarse throat, you can't wait to do it again the next year.
So, you do. It becomes a tradition of sorts, the first time you see your university friends since leaving your belongings in your new residence of the upcoming year. The night before is just as good as the festival, all huddled in your new lounge showing off your new festival clothes, sharing jewellery and scourging around for a sleeping bag because Choerry always forgets hers. It's one of the few times your soul feels alive, every inch of it clinging onto the present moment to now, four years later from your first, standing amidst a sea of people, on the grassy grounds you've come to know and love.
Early evening paints the sky in an indigo blue, bright full moon creeping into the sky. This year's different, a year removed from university, but you're trying to make it feel like every other time before. One of Friday night's headliners has got the crowd going, the easy-going atmosphere breathing space in between groups of people huddled around each other. It's the kind of let your hair down sensation your body's ached for, head tipped back as you try and sink into the feelings.
In a crowd full of moving bodies, the only sounds occupying the vast grasslands blare from the stage speakers, shaking with every heavy bass thump. It’s a good way to let go, losing yourself in the motions of the crowd high on house among other substances, inhibitions abandoned to the closed fall of your eyes, serenity your being. A necessary ritual, through the slump of everyday life boggled down by work responsibilities and other non-juggable things. A trip down South with friends sparkled in glitter, rustic clothes blowing in the wind as your arms circle each other, happiness so evident on your faces as your heads nod and worries dissipate.
It’s a time you wouldn’t trade for anything for, something precious in your life that comes with no regrets.
In the swell of the crowd, warm stage lights project outwards, outlining the dancing silhouette of festival-goers. In the few occasions your eyes flutter open, you see your friends exchange words into the ears of guys next to your group, amusement curving your own lips. They’re good-looking, you note, grin widening as the taller one of the group hoists Choerry onto his shoulders, laughter pouring between your two groups.
If not for the tap on your shoulder, you would’ve missed him completely as his soft voice barely meets your ears. “Did you wanna have a go?”
You turn and the world sweeps into a montage, music slowed to reverb as you take his features in one by one. The kind brown circle of his eyes, the sheepish simper in his full lips, his wet fringe curling towards the open space of his forehead. He’s all lean muscles, shoulders like boulders in the grey cybersigilism vest he wears - sturdy enough to support you. However, it’s not his deep outline of his muscles or grunge fashion that grabs your attention, it’s the silver star grill stretched between his canine tooth and accompanying front tooth.
Out your peripheral, his head tilts, snapping you out your gaze. Like this, you can’t fight your fast blinks, not quite believing the sudden attraction rushing over you.
“Why not?” is your non-committal answer.
At your sides, his friends trade sneaky smirks and amused eyebrow raises, whispering in teasing tones. You thank the gods above for the invention of safety shorts, uneasy hands running over any possible creases in your outfit.
“You got a name?”
The divine mix of alcohol and ketamine always did something for your confidence, a good amount of inflation to your ego as your lips curve in a sneaky smirk.
Surprise reflects in the puzzlement of his face, a good-natured chuckle coming from him. “Excuse me?”
“I usually know someone’s name before I do anything like this.”
“In case of emergencies?” he asks, grin lopsided.
“More so common decency,” you chuckle, biting back your grin as he lowers himself to the ground, eyes shining up at you. “But that’s a factor too.”
Anton is the singular thing you remember through your exchange, goosebumps peppering your skin despite its feverish temperature the moment his hands meet it. You blame the race of your pulse on the unpredictability of the situation, surprised yelp blending into the heavy beats blaring off the tree-sized speakers as you’re hoisted upwards, a whole new world on your horizon. Everything looks indescribably small from your view, the sea of dancing bodies like a wave on the shore, your worries smaller too. Anton stands his ground, sturdy despite his two-step, hands hooked around your calves for good measure. Butterflies infiltrate the gooey puddle of your stomach, the flight of their wings giving an impression of euphoria, a lighter feeling within you as you allow yourself to sink into this — the flash of warm lights, Anton’s warm hands and the promise of a good weekend, a great weekend even if you let it.
The cusp of greatness starts when that first beat drops, so distinctly vivid and recognisable in your ears as the lights switch to shades of blue and white. Frantic eyes scan for your friends, the same look in all your eyes as your hands come together with Yunjin, lyrics belted out from the depths of your chest. If not for the vibration against you, you would’ve missed Anton singing along, his friends with shades on, draping over each other with pointed fingers in the air. Not a second later, one of Anton’s friends beckons the rest of your friends over, a shared circle of giddy smiles and clumsy steps. It’s sickening sweet, how a single song brings everyone together, setting fire to your soul yelling I wish you that you were mine at the top of your lungs.
Your balance against Anton never wavers, in the face of your necessary minimized dance moves and the pump of his fist, studded bracelet catching against the flickering light show. The melody boils to a simmer, unoccupied by words and only sounds, the perfect opportunity for your eyes to meet as Anton peers up at you, bliss across your faces in a way that makes you the kind of giddy you haven't felt in a while.
He keeps you on his shoulders for two more songs, the last of your friends let down to your feet as the rest of the DJ set goes on. Introductions are made amid the madness, too many names for your fuzzy brain to keep up with but their good company sticks. Jokes, dance battles and a united sing-a-along make you fast friends, enough that when the set ends, Anton's friends look to your group for what's next.
“The rave in the woods,” Anton’s snapback-wearing, doe eyed friend starts. Your memory traces back in time, Sohee remembered as his name. “Were you guys gonna go too?”
Your friend look amongst each other, giggling like you share a secret. "Of course."
The rave in the woods is a beloved event that without a fail, your friends attend every night. Once the last big acts call it a day, smaller events scatter around for late-night partyers, the rave in the woods one of them. The woodland where you dance into the early hours of the morning is expansive, offering a variety of DJs supplying grime, house and techno to get the crowd moving.
As first year attenders, Yunjin states how vital the experience is, leading with Sungchan who lends an enthusiastic ear while the rest of you trail behind. Groups of your friends, groups of his, a mixture. Like you and Anton, naturally walking alongside each other as the night chill grazes your skin, a welcome break from the blistering sun.
"The glitter stars look good on you," Anton breaks the silence, eyeing the mass glitter stars outlining your eye, in the ironic shape of one too. "It's really creative."
"Thank you. It took a stupid amount of time to do," your cowboy boot kicks at a stray rock, the main field's noise being left behind in search of another.
"Pretty worth it if you ask me."
The woodland is densely populated, all tall scrawny pale trees reaching far beyond the strain of your neck. Low enough for the eye to behold, shiny disco balls hang off the high branches, the poor festival staff having to scale the trees for aesthetics. It does its job though, string lights of the rainbow cascading with flashes that make the space feel like it's been clipped right out of a movie. A smoke machine from various DJ decks blows around the area, cloudy figures moving like apparitions to the elevated eye.
After you and your new group of friends make your way through the Christmas market-like entrance, dark blue swirly patterns projected onto the red sand floor, your girls split off for the portable toilets, a meeting point of a Tiki bar agreed upon. Since it's still early days, the portable toilets don't swim with waste, three to four of people squeezing into the tight space. Baggies get pulled out of socks and bum bag pockets, pills and grained ketamine their inside contents.
"I can't believe I'm letting you use my car keys," Sullyoon moans, breaking her blue pill apart. "If the car doesn't start, you're pushing us back to mine."
"It's your fault for saying to leave my keys at yours," you argue, sniffing the substance with a groan. Kazuha does a shitty job at covering it up, coughing after the fact. "Yeah, thanks."
"You didn't warn me beforehand!" she yelps, squeezing into one of the corners. "You and Jinsol dropping one?"
"Her name is Molly!" Jinsol giggles, handed over half of the pill from Sullyoon. "I've genuinely never felt anything better. I obviously wouldn't push you to do it, but it's great."
"Don't worry, my pink gin gets me high enough for the both of us," Kazuha replies, eyebrow raised to you. "Ready to go?"
One last sniff and a lip-balm swatch earns your go ahead sign, looks of amusement tossed between your girls.
"Must be getting ready for Ant—"
You push her out the door, a stumble of a short ledge her price. Back again outside, the smoke-filled air greets you, a lightheadedness devouring your brain as your group walks back to the agreed meeting spot. There, where Heejin and Choerry purchase drinks for themselves and Kazuha, Yunjin floats over to you. A helpless snicker slips out, your hands cupping her face as your thumb pad swipes a few visible crushed grains on the tip of her nose, her heavy blush only strengthened by her natural one.
Because you can't help but tease, you yank her down her camo cap, her shriek meeting your ears. "What you think? This batch's pretty good, yeah?"
"It's strong, I've only had to do a fingernail after almost k-holing to Wish You Were Mine," she explains, readjusting her cap. "Good song, though."
"The best song, I-" a tap on the shoulder makes your words evaporate, head turning with a sliver of Yunjin's smiling face catching your eyes. "Anton,"
A mellowness lazily tugs at the corners of his lips, his head slightly tilted. "Sorry to keep you waiting. How about I get you an apology drink?"
"Yeah, you took longer than the girls," Yunjin interjects.
Heejin comes up beside her, sipping on her over-priced cocktail. "They were probably sword-fighting in there."
Anton immediately flushes, hands out in alarm. "We were not—"
His platinum blonde haired friend drops onto his shoulders, an arm slung around him with the kind of grin that only speaks of trouble. "He's just shy because he always wins. I mean, how could he not with—"
Anton damn nears folds his neck in half, a sharp look of mortification and warning in his eyes. His friend, who you remember now as Shotaro puffs out a shaky chuckle, patting Anton's chest to slow tempo. "I lied, actually. We were making out. Gotta kiss the homies goodnight, you know?"
Out of nowhere, a head of pink hair — Wonbin — jumps in, pressing a cheek kiss to Shotaro who flinches into himself, buried further when Anton does the same on the other cheek. In a feigned nonchalance, he ignores the unfolding scene of boyish fights and directs you over to the queue, hand curled on your elbow. The mere touch is enough to shoot electricity up your back, correcting the hunched posture.
"I'm good without one," is your gentle decline, every sense of yours heightened. You need to go, expel all your fizzing energy now. "Let's go dance."
Your head turns to the rest of the group, ears flooded with excited shrieks and bumping music. Your foot taps along, body swaying soon after. "You coming?"
"Course," Heejin answers, head turning to the slithering sight beside her.
Sohee slides closer, doing footwork similar to a moonwalk with the wave of his body, ending on the tips of his creased sneakers. Must do this often. "Gotta show everyone who's king."
He shows off a snaggletooth smile, so pure with the flex of his biceps, only for his face to fall when his cap is snatched. His deep pink hair is a frizzy mess underneath, sight unseen three seconds afterwards as he chases after the thief, a manically laughing Sungchan.
Your attention shifts back to Anton, who's in the middle of the world's great facepalm, echoed by the collective chaos of your groups mashed together. The dopamine-inducing sight reflects happiness back on your face, body still moving to the oontz oontz music and ultimately getting carried towards it.
Footsteps follow you close by, a stamped of others following close behind. Ignoring the clumpy sounds of grime, your body shimmies over to the packed crowd of dancing bodies, shoulders sunburnt with glow in the dark face paint on. Deep house moves their bodies, heads hitting every bass beat and you follow along, music travelling through you.
The mob roars to life as the familiar lyrics of The Less I Know The Better come through, speakers blasting the remix of drum snares and heavy bassline. Expressions pull to show their satisfaction, pumping their fists harder with a mean two-step. Head in the clouds, energy bursts through you, your image a mere afterthought as your body moves on its own accord, appreciative yells coming from your group. You soak it in with a grin, the flutter of your eyes capturing the amazement mapped out on Anton's light-drenched face.
Songs go on, the DJ becoming a fan favourite as she remixes crowd pleasers with expertise, bumping along with her excited friends who hop and yell to every beat. Your mind can only hang onto fragments of everything, every blink a snapshot, but it's a movie each time, body bouncing around while you dance with friends. At one point, your fingers thread into Anton's, coaxing him with the words, "Shake your body up and down, let the rhythm take control." It's far better than the multiple take it off lyrics that come and go, but in hindsight, perhaps it could've gone without saying. After all, you thought you'd made it pretty apparent that you liked him.
Eventually, after one too many bathroom trips and songs, your body overheats to an uncomfortable degree, yelling to excuse yourself into Choerry's ear. Eclipsed in hues of orange and pink, she yells she'll go with you. Assuring her you'll be ok, you hear her yell out to text if anything goes amiss as you're shouldering through the crowd, coming out a bit bruised but happy enough to not mind.
Familiarity presents no hesitation in your movements as you wonder off into the woods for a breather, eyes floating between the Island-themed bars run out of caravans and dehydrated festival goers who plot down into any beach chairs available. Perhaps venturing alone into the woods should make you the kind of uneasy that has your eyes bouncing to every possible threat. However, with how large and busy the festival is, even places where the lights are reduced to mere specks, there's always someone loitering around: drunk girls proclaiming their forever-lasting friendship, a couple kissing against a tree, friends huddled with a suspicious chorus of sniffs. It's a bit of a mess; a mess you wouldn't have any other way.
It's only when you've put some distance between the rave and yourself, you hear the call of your name.
"Wait!"
Your ears can't quite believe themselves, a slow turn unveiling your far-fetched guess.
"You didn't have to follow me out," breathlessness hints at your words, a rise and fall of your chest with each step you take. "I would've been fine."
"I needed the breather too," Anton reasons, only his thumbs visible as his hands slip into his front pockets. "Plus, I know better than leaving someone alone the woods."
The woods, as you amble further into, is hauntingly beautiful, unkept and largely left to its natural beauty. The trees are more dense here, branches folding over each other, trunks thicker, less vandalised. The party is distant, the ketamine having worn off and for the first time in repeated thirty minute intervals, you feel yourself relax, back inclined to lean against the tree behind you.
"I don't think the Big Bad Wolf is much of a raver," you laugh, crossed hands against the bark you press into. "He's busy terrorising others in red."
"That's a shame, he'd really blow the roof off the place," Anton says in front of you, a stark silence settling in the aftermath of his words. "Sorry, that was so bad. Don't even— "
"I was wondering when you'd slip up," you can't help but snicker. "No one can be that smooth."
His eyebrow raises curiously.
“You’re making me nervous again,” his words carry over, only loud enough for the trees and you to hear.
“I wasn’t even aware you were nervous,” you answer back, eyes looking left and right, unsure. “Why?”
A humourless laugh escapes him, a hand brushed over his lips to wipe the smile away. “You’re really gonna make me say it?”
You choose silence, pinching your lips together before something clever obliterates whatever following words Anton mulls over. A knit in his eyebrows with a gaze cast to the ground your only tell. It’s informative enough, but you don’t want to get your hopes up.
“Well,” his hand inches closer across the bark, a gulp travelling down your dry throat. “Well, let's just say it's not every day I get to hoist the prettiest girl on my shoulders."
Floored is how best you can describe how you feel, stapled to the tree your rigid body doesn't dare moving against. The only thing that moves in concern with you is the heavy pump of your heart.
"There's 50,000 people here…"
"My statement still stands," he answers, not budging. The silence between you is stifling. "Do with that information what you will. I just figured I'd let you know."
Dead leaves crunch under his mud-scuffed hiking boots, body turned as if to walk away.
"Wait!" you call out, eyes wide like you've seen a ghost. Your chest labours, hand outstretched to Anton whose figure halos with the dulled lights of the faraway rave. "You can't just say that and leave."
His head tilts, arms crossed. Muscles flexing. "I wanted to give you space."
He knows what he's doing. He must, because why else would that easy smile be on his face for if not knowing your next words?
A moment's hesitation almost doesn't allow them to fall. Then, your mind remembers being at the top of the world on his shoulders, how sturdy and safe you'd felt atop them. His warm hands you reached out for on the dance floor, how his eyes could never leave yours even when yours closed. How the current between you is so different to anything you've experienced before, humming just beneath the surface.
"What if I didn't want any?" are your whispered words, head ducked like there's shame in letting things be known. "You…you, come here and fix this."
Anton comes back immediately, stopping not even an inch in front of you. You catch pine notes and the sea breeze from his skin, radiating a warmth the night chill propels your body towards.
"Fix what?" he whispers back, head tilted like he'll lean in. You really want him to. "Say the word,"
"Please," your hand grasps onto the front of his vest, desperate more than aggressive. "Just once."
He hums, considering your words. It kills a little part inside of you.
"You're cute," he says against your lips, a gentle brush. "I'll bite."
Something entirely new happens to you when your lips meet, a gasp muffled against his mouth as you fall apart. Against the rough bark of the tree, your body melts like molten lava, helped only by the loose fumble of your hands against his cheeks, firm hands on your hips. His lips are soft, pursuing you with a gentleness you chase after, arms circling him as your need to be close grows. He groans into your mouth, a soft gasp your response as he presses you further into the tree. When you're through, your body will adorn the marks of his passion, a dull sensation to your back while your world never remains the same again.
"Fuck," his breath fans over your lips, not baring to part from you. "You sound so sweet. Wonder where else you're sweet."
You whimper into him, body running hot as you feel the slide of his smile on your lips. He's holding you like you're something precious, cheeks cupped with the utmost of delicacy and the want just pours out of you, raving your body that desires nothing more to be closer to him. For him to touch you everywhere, to kiss you everywhere too.
"That's it, take my hand where you want it."
Your breath gets caught somewhere in your throat, a blaze set to your skin as your hand tremors over his — knowing where it should go, but not having the gall to follow through. Attuned to your hesitancy, his hand inches by the millimetre down your torso, shiver left in his wake. Eager fingers slot between his for a second, a grasp to take control as you move down until you leave his palm against the safety shorts under your dress.
"You're warm through your shorts. Is that all for me?" He has the audacity to say, smiling to the whine you do. "It's okay, go ahead. You need it, don't you?"
Of course you do. So bad your mind's thrown of rationality in pursuit of the pleasure he may give you. He slots a flexed thigh between your leg, offering a sturdy surface as your hips give out experimental rolls. With so many layers pinched together, the friction generated makes you shiver with a shaky moan, lips trembling away from his. He chases after you, teasing nibbles on your bottom lip done to ruin you, so starved for him your hips rut with every last inch of your need.
A wolf whistle pierces through the night, commending cheers too boyish for your liking following the aftermath. Brought back to reality, your body can only freeze in terror as a group of shirtless guys in reflective sunglasses clap their hands for Anton, teasing raises of their eyebrows from two-tree rows away.
"Oh my god," you part, an immediate side-step behind the very same tree you'd been caught doing…that on.
When the obnoxious men are out of ear shot, dead leaves crunch as Anton shuffles closer, his tongue grazing where your lips last were. If you weren't ablaze in embarrassment, you'd probably climb him like a tree.
"I got a bit carried away there," he huffs, finger pulling at the neckline of his vest. There's minimal visibility here, but enough to catch the heat radiating off him and its accompanied flush. He even has a stray star from your cheek. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just— " your hand swap at the side of your face not plastered with stars, the knot in your stomach still ongoing. "Maybe we should head somewhere more private?"
The suggestion appears to surprise him, eyes flaring with it as his head jerks back a bit. A moment blankets the two of you, his hand raised to run over his throat, consideration heavy in the air.
"You want to?" he asks instead.
Your answer is close to immediate.
"Yeah."
He pauses, allowing for a beat where you change your mind, examine your options, consolidate an out.
It never comes.
"Okay. Did you want to tell your friends you're going? Or did you want my driver's license?" he's already sifting through his back pocket for the sleek leather, flipping it open. "That way, they have my details."
A safety precaution.
One you hadn't really considered. It wasn't often you went off with someone at a festival, the extent being making out with a random during Loyle Carner's set. Rookie mistake, not because your friends clowned you for the rest of the night, but because you'd ruined your chances with Carner who could apparently see you in the middle of the crowd.
However, as you stand before Anton, whose lips are plump with your kisses and moles on his face good enough to bite, you take your chances. Forgoing travelling back to the rave where your friends are and shooting a quick text, the last of your battery used to send his drivers license where he looks offensively good in. Once sent, your brain catches up to the rabbiting in your chest, clustered rave music jumbled in your ears as you look at him with hopeful eyes, the same reflected back at you.
"Should we get going?"
The walk to your tent is relatively quiet, the festival making up in non-syllable form. Fingers intertwined, you wonder if he can feel it — the thump of your pulse under his palm, the clamminess of yours. He's the one whose said his sweet confession and yet here you are, shaking like a leaf. When the idea of his attractiveness crossed your mind, no amount of foresight could've brought you here. It's always in passing, acknowledging handsome guys to your friends with nothing done of the matter. Rejection is the overarching reason, but it didn't apply now. Not in the slightest, his desire to be with you overriding the decency of having you behind closed doors.
Before you get the chance to gulp, your boots thump to a halt, seven-man tent in plain view. It's the first night but the campsite is already chaos — pitched tents, more camp chairs than people while more trash and crushed beer cans litter the patchy greens. Ain't nothing like home.
Through the mess of your bumbag, you somehow manage to find the keys to the tent, shaky hands jiggling the lock. Once both through, you lock back up before standing to your feet, showcasing the common room/Sullyoon's & Jinsol's room. Shades of pastel pink and mint green cascade from the walls of the tent, stray pillows to match. Makeup brushes astray with a trunk stashed with the alcohol you snuck in, the permitted amount perched on the top.
"I think this room is the size of our entire tent," he marvels, hunched over with wondering eyes. If he's nervous, you can't tell. "Sohee, Taro and I will probably end up sharing a bed — not that Sohee minds."
Then, your eyes catch, knowing smirks volleyed. It undoes the bundled nerves in your stomach, if only by a few centimetres.
"Sounds better than my set-up," your voice trails, eyes finding his. "Did you wanna see…?"
His eyes flare, a sinking pit plummeting down your belly. "Yes, please."
Your section of the tent isn't glamorous by any means, yourself and Yunjin having packed so much that you had to settle for sleeping bags, waterproof shells of a bed stationed next to each other. Atop yours, your legs cross, Anton's long limbs stretched instead, but he's close. Close enough for a hint of cinnamon and sea salt to hit your nose, the warm spice of his cologne elevating the summer heat inside the suddenly small tent.
Idle conversation is made: sets you're hoping to catch over the weekend, activities you're waiting to do. There's a lot of crossover, like how you'd both like to go to the mini carnival on the last day, listen to Kings of Leon's set while soaring through the pink sunset sky.
"I couldn't imagine being anywhere better." he says, fingers fiddling with the hem of your dress.
He doesn't say the obvious out loud — with you, but you hear it all the same. React the same too, breaths deepening as your hand inches up to hover his, chocolate brown eyes reflecting up to yours.
"Me being here doesn't have any implications," he states, a gentleness to his features. There's minimal light in the tent, save for the soft peach orange omitted from Yunjin battery-powered light. He's stunning in it, as he is in others. "We do whatever you're comfortable with."
"I know, I just— " you huff, searching for the words, the composure. Since when did he have this power over you? "I never know how to…"
Initiate, take the leap of faith.
You'd hit the ground one too many times doing so.
"It's okay," your hand falls from over his, warm presence to your cheek with his thumb's caress. It's comforting, enough to lean into. "I'm here."
I'll guide you.
The whisper, though never uttered, ripples a chill down your spine, foreheads coming together. Moments pass, close in the intimacy of observation, some shadows cast but your eyes and lips readily in view. This near, you see the mole just beside his nose, like a far dropped tear. His eyelashes do a gradual flutter, pink dusted over the height of his cheekbones. Then you hear it.
Faint, but unmistakable — the thud of his pulse. Your hand searches for it, fingertips ghosting over thin skin, the pump of his heartbeat fast, contesting with yours.
You can't help but chuckle, him following along in the bit of sheepishness you wish you could sink your teeth into. So, you do, head angled up to connect your lips again. Somehow, it's better than the first, the butterflies swarming all around you in a delicate dance, body lurching for his. His hand sneaks to the back of your head, pressing you against him, noses folded over each other. You can't get enough, dull burn so good you're moaning into his mouth while his tongue glides over your pried lips. You part further, because you want more too, like everything him pressing you into the tree promised.
Moving on its own accord, your body folds towards him, a gentle push back as his hands desert your body to support himself, top half shadowing yours. Naturally, your body falls backwards, lowered slowly with your lumpy pillow acting a cushion. Anton kisses you throughout, plump lips the pillow you wished your head would lay upon, drunk off the taste of grape Soju and peppermint. His body brackets yours, arms holding himself up as the rest of him shifts between your legs. You've never hated the shorts beneath your dress more, clothes sticking to blotches of skin.
Like he said, Anton's here. Hands doing a slow ascent up the flesh of your thighs, he gives you every opportunity to say no — it never comes. Consent echoes in the strained whines hanging in the back of your throat, rough fingertips grazing the waistband of your shorts, smiling at the quiver of skin.
No time's waisted as he pulls them off you, tossed away somewhere as your legs cross over his back. It's a crutch you fully lean into, need growing by the tenfold as your slick-lined gusset brushes over the bulge in his jeans, back straightening to the feel. He feels…like a lot, desperation unleashing the moans blending into the quiet lock of your lips. A dampened grunt, deep from his chest, sounds when your hips show the extent of your desperation, core grinding hopelessly against him.
"Shit," he mutters into you. "Hang on, lemme…"
It's the first time your lips truly part since settling atop the sleeping bag, swishing against his movement while his tongue licks away stringed-saliva connecting you two. Further away, he lowers himself, your body hoisting itself onto propped elbows as you beg the question:
"What are you—"
Perfectly slotted between your legs, he peers up at you, pupils fully blown, hands hanging off the hem of your underwear. "Oh,"
Your hand reaches over to his, sheepishness creasing your expression. "You don't have to."
His hand eclipses yours, a firm sincerity in his umber eyes. "I want to."
The only response you manage is a gulp, heat blossoming across your cheeks. All you can do is relax back against your arms, willing yourself not to sound as desperate as you feel while he trails slow kisses down your navel. It's almost trance-like, watching him worship your body, decorating in adoring caresses and chaste kisses, drenching your slick-lined underwear as he picks skin on your inner thigh, gentle love bruises left to remember him by. Hands once fidgeting at your sides curl into his head of waves, teeth sunken into the plump of your lip to conceal your whimpers. A poor job as evidenced by his reserved chuckles, vibration against your skin leading right where you need him — close, but not enough. Hovering, instead of descending where needed.
"Anton," his name comes out in a whine, your expression creased. Drum and bass is alive and well beyond the secrecy of your tent. All you hear is an incessant heartbeat. "We don't have much time. Please."
He pauses high up against your knee, a lasting peck left before he leans his head to your spread thighs, hair tickling your kneecap. "You need me?"
An electric current shoots down your back, brightening your eyes. "I-"
"It's okay, sweet girl," his words hang in the stiff air, kissing a trail from your mid-thigh while you buckle beneath him. He blinks back, seeing right through you. "You're pretty when you can't hide it."
A flush blooms across your sizzling skin, a helplessness to your own desires as features curve into a plead. "Anton, please. I need you — fingers, mouth, anything. Just—"
Words die on your tongue, coming out in a choppy rushed pants as his veined hands pull back your underwear, a string of slick sticking to the wet gusset. The hunger in his eyes intensifies, soiled underwear tossed over his shoulder, forgotten for the sight between your thighs. The fan of his breath enough to make you clench.
"Wanted to do this all night," he muses, a pillowy kiss to your clit. It's a minor action, almost missable, but with a body attuned to his every move, you crumble. He kisses you again just to watch you shudder, only chuckling as he envelopes your clit and folds in a slow, melting kiss.
It's stupidly good, the feeling of his mouth on you as he kisses you like he did in the forest, slow and dizzying. Moving languidly as if to memorise your taste at every angle. Warm pleasure blooms within, coursing through your bloodstream, fingers weaving through his hair.
When you relax into the slow-mouthed kisses, he surprises you with the swirl of his tongue, broad and all over your clit. A high whine slips through, prolonged to a deep moan as Anton licks up from your weeping hole to your clit again, humming into the flesh.
Fingers tug automatically, hair released in afterthought.
“It’s okay,” he chuckles, voice octaves lower. “You can grab my hair. I like it.”
Such innocent words come together, yet paint the opposite. Images quickly shuffle through your hazed-mind, legs wrapped around his middle like a bow as he thrusts up into you, moans and gasps filling the tent. The muscles in his back flexed, beaded sweat a sheen to flushed skin your tongue brushes over, insatiable. He's a bit breathless, as you are, whining low in his throat in a way your ears will remember and burn with. It's so good, it hurts the more you—
"Here?"
Your back bends off the sleeping bag's surface, head lolled back.
"Is this where you're weak?" he rasps, finger curled to nudge deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot.
If not for how good you feel right now, you'd be ashamed of how loud you're moaning.
"Fuck, you sound so good," he grunts, head shaking as he laps at your clit."Want a finger? Why don't you ask me for another?"
Teeth gnaw into the plush of your lip, anticipation rigging your breath ragged as you pant. You're so high off the simple curl of his finger your brain struggles catching up to his words.
"Hm? Want me to finger fuck you?"
That catches your attention, stomach pulling taut. You're nodding, not trusting your voice even if your confirmation still comes out in a breathy, "yes."
"I didn't take you as greedy," his voice haunts the halls of your mind. Distant yet alluring, evoking an endless desire. "It's okay, I'll give you what you want. I'll keep you satisfied."
Another finger slips in, just as easy as the first. An unmistakable squelch reverberates through the flimsy walls of the camping tent, hitting your ears again and again as Anton keeps hitting that spot in you, drowning you further in a pool of ecstasy.
"More," he prompts, voice a whisper. "I wanna hear you more. Do it for me."
You don't mean to, your body just complies. No memory serves comparable to what you're experiencing now, pleasure threshold surpassed as your body floats, carried on the cloud of his hands and mouth.
"You're close, aren't you? You're shaking." There's a lick of condescend behind his words, building you up to your demise. "It's okay, we're not finished here. You can come."
The coil snaps, body coming undone. White streaks before your eyes, head flying back as your hands keep his head between your legs, crashing and burning. Hearing nothing but your own screech, you miss the clear liquid drenching Anton's face, making a small pool atop the waterproof sleeping bag. The man between your legs can't quite believe it, huffed disbelief fanning over your cunt as his fingers work you through the release, kitten licks to your clit eventually bucked off due to overstimulation.
"So sensitive," he remarks after you regain hearing again, body like jelly. "Look at the mess you made with just my fingers and mouth. Imagine what my cock would do…"
Through batted eyelashes, you peer over at him, limbs buzzing. In the shadows of the tent, his lower face shines with your slick, an almost black to his eyes. At least he has the decency to blush so you're not alone, pinkish hue buried beneath his cheek as his hands go for his belt.
The metal clink of his belt buckle echoes, louder than the rave music a short distance away. With parted legs, Anton's eyes would have watched your cunt clench down on nothing but the image of his cock. Except your eyes are trained on each other, layers of clothing peeled back to reveal who you two really are.
You couldn't pry yourself from him if you tried. Not when—
A sudden blare of a Fontaines DC song slices through the tent, Anton the first to look away as his jaw ticks with simmered annoyance. It quickly unwinds when he sees the caller ID, phone screen illuminating his face as he takes the call.
"What's up?"
An deep exhale lets out of your strained lungs, arms tired from being propped. Gently, your head falls to your beloved festival pillow, lumpy from being packed all kinds of wrong ways. Staring up at the ceiling provides you the chance to piece thoughts together. Everything happened so fast, straggling away from your crowd, smitten words, body pushed up against the bark, held hands on the way to your tent — this. You don't have any words for it because frankly, you've never felt this way before. So at the mercy of someone, someone who learns your tells and shows them to you before you can catch wind. It spins you off your axis, discombobulating what you know as the truth, all with his mouth and fingers.
You're so fucking screwed.
"Hey," his voice calls, a gentle guide back to him. He's got his chin dipped to his chest, a wince to his face. "The guys are with Eunseok at the med-tent, apparently he's in a bit of a k-hole,"
You scramble to sit up, pushing your bunched up dress down over your legs. "Oh my god, is he okay?"
"Probably. This happens often — believe it or not. The last time, he thought the pillar in the club was talking to him," his hand ruffles through his hair, a chuckle coming out that doesn't seem all that amused. Slack at his sides, his arms fall, hands securing his belt back in place.
Somehow, the sombre silence compels you to jest. "I can't laugh because the one time I came close to one, I skid the skin off my knees running to the girls,"
His veined hands circles around your calf, ghosting the material upto the faded dark patches over your knees. "You're silly. And need to take better care of yourself."
"I was meeting new people that night — overcompensated with all the mixing," you laugh, sound coming out more breathy than intended, Anton's thumb grazing over the skin. His head of hair dips, a sweet kiss inflicting the rise of immediate goosebumps, something like cockiness leftover in his smile.
"I'm sorry we can't continue," he whispers, slopes of his face emphasized in minimal light. Your heartbeat still prevails over the noise of the festival, house music nothing but a background murmur. "I really, really wanted to,"
Your gaze drops, his erection tucked away, but still very evidently there.
Dryness coats your throat, cleared in an effort to speak. "Me too."
"The guys and I are gonna be at the beach tomorrow," he suggests, caressing. Always caressing. His eyelashes flutter when he looks through them, at you."I was hoping you could make it there?"
The smirk paints itself, a teasing eyebrow raised. "If you wanted to see me in a bikini so bad, you should've said so."
"I'd rather see you in nothing at all," a force pulls at your legs, his strength pulling you to crash land on his lips. Huffed against you, his need cycles between you two, restraint wavering in a shuddered breath. "Let me go…before I don't go at all."
On your feet, your backs are bent to hunch-walk through the low-ceiling tent, zipped out and back into the wilderness of festival life. Humidity clings to your skin, along with kicked up dust and spotty drizzle. Cheers from the makeshift amusement rides hover close by, lights shining into the sky like a signal. They're no match for the stars, devastatingly bright and reflected back in Anton's eyes as his attention falls to only you.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" his thumb glosses over your knuckles, not quite letting you go.
"Tomorrow." you confirm, a steady nod double proof.
A lone lip corner picks up at it, teeth indents made into his bottom lip as he dares to pull away, his touch with you until the top of your fingertips. Then, he starts to disappear, parts of his body disappearing past the mass of camping tents. Your body borders on cold, the welcome breeze turning arctic cold. Teeth chatter call for rubbing hands across your upper arms, watching as he walks to his right, towards the med tent.
Eyes not having left yours, h mouths something like go inside, but you shoo him away, watching each other until neither is visible. Other festival goers come and go, some having DMCs outside their tent while others snog in them. None of them concern you.
Out of the 50,000 attendees, your mind only lingers on one.
Him and his promise of the beach come tomorrow.
At the beach is a welcome break away from the festival. According to earlier forged traditions, before you'd even check out the festival's stalls or hunt for a dealer, you'd have an afternoon dip in the ocean. Surrounded by moss-covered boulder rocks, the beach is the perfect picture of serene. Vast deep blue, waves outlined in calming porcelain with buttermilk sand serving as its barrier. You'd yell and scream, splashing each other in clothes you'd leave outside your tent to dry, hoping they'd still be there after early-morning venturing raves.
You hadn't fulfilled your tradition this year, the growing attraction to your beloved getaway causing nightmare queues driving into the festival. Some people even walked, lawn chairs and tents slugged under their arms with bucket hats of every colour imaginable on their heads. By the time you'd reached the grounds, midnight blue blanketed the sky and Sullyoon's foot hurt too much from clutch use in start-and-stop traffic. Most of your seven member group hangs back before checking out any last-minute sets, yourself and Kazuha wandering off to the lookout cliff, few friends and coupled straggled around the view overlook the dark ocean.
"I'm glad we're doing this," you find yourself saying, arms crossed over knees pressed to your chest. "A lot's changed, but at least this hasn't."
"I am too," she muses with an easy smile. "It's been a…weird year. I don't think I was expecting. it."
Graduating university, finding your feet in the adult world, living miles apart from each other. You'd spent so much time with each other leading up to graduation and over the summer that meetups seemed like they'd never end. Like seeing each other every week was a law of the universe. However, as the seasons changed, life makes the unexpected demand for you to be apart, busied by other aspects that require all your attention. You met up when you could, but sometimes that wasn't enough. Heck, you hadn't seen Yunjin in a year before this.
The wind whistles past your ears, blowing at your hair.
"Yeah," your agreement is hard to hear, softened by longing. "Me neither."
Out your peripheral, Kazuha turns to you, shoulder nudging into the hand picking at grass. "We've still got this weekend and each other after that. Lots of time to make memories too."
A smile does a slow glide across your face. "Like you getting shouted at in the med tent?"
"I was trying to cheer Jinsol up!" she argues, laughing. "She was scared half to death."
"Yeah, that's what happens when you have a bad trip," you face palm, laughing too. "You either be a good friend and sit still or you get out my tent."
"Then we all got kicked out," Kazuha folds into you, head on your shoulder. "That pill was really good."
"Yeah, you were more pupil than eyes," your head leans against hers. "I can't wait for the rave in the woods."
I can't wait to make make more memories with you.
"Me too."
After last night's events, the girls are all teasing smirks and quick-raised eyebrows, not asking questions but pretty damn close to it. Even if you don't volunteer information, they know you left with him, see the soft bruising he left on your chest. In the shape of a heart nonetheless. High school or uni didn't offer the enjoyed hell of having a hickey, so it's a bit new. Pressing into the bruising, covering it with concealer, knowing it'll wash off in the ocean.
On your way there, the chill of the mid-morning tingles numbness into your fingers, you lingering behind your five, side by side with Heejin.
"I could do with a full breakfast after this," she mentions, squinting at the brightness of the clouded sun. "Turns out not being deathly hungover actually diminishes your appetite."
"Who would've though," you play along, some sand getting in between your toes. You're coming up to the flight of stairs leading to the beach, sea breeze fierce enough for squeals. "To be fair, that was our first year here and we got carried away with sneaking in alcohol."
"Those portable charger flasks were our best purchase of the year."
"We got lucky they didn't check all our water packs."
"God bless Yunjin's flirting skills."
"And my VS push-up bra!" she yells ahead, laughter rippling through your group.
Shaking her head, Heejin braces a hand on the rusted metal railing, careful steps onto slanted concrete. "Speaking of bras…."
"Here we go."
A playful shove jostles you towards the opposite railing. "What? Was the tall drink of a man a bust?"
The opposite, actually. "Nah, not even close."
"Oh?"
"But we got interrupted," you sigh, growing beach population dotted amidst the sand. "He said he'd be at the beach today."
"You kept that quiet," she jokes, stepping off the last step. "Well, the beach is pretty big. You'd be lucky if— "
"There they are!"
Not far from where your group clutters around the bottom of the staircase, Anton's friends occupy a spread of the beach, surfboards, tie-dye towels and a sandcastle amongst their many possessions. Some adorn surf vests while others tan shirtless, ocean's droplets trailing their skin. Unfortunately for you, Anton belongs to the latter, in the middle of taking off his surfers shirt.
At the mention of your group, his head emerges from the piece of clothing, blinking his surprise away. For a moment, there's a flare of self-consciousness, the bob of his Adam's apple evident, but when knowing presents itself in his smile, only you remain flustered.
Despite clouds crowding the Sun, your skin burns with a sharp prickle, a sinking drop of want conjured in your belly. Thoughts instantly revert to last night, in the low-light of the tent, his face between your legs, lapping at you like you would quench his thirst. The hint of condescend hanging behind his goading words, how he smiled against—
"You coming?" Yunjin hollers, trance broken. Beyond you, the girls situate themselves within the group, space cleared for your presence. Where Yunjin calls from, she points to a chair conveniently stationed where Anton sits. "Saved you a seat."
As if they couldn't make it any more obvious.
Not that anyone else didn't know. You could the bemused smirks and poorly hid stifled snickers from a mile away.
Looks like your beach day would be everything but relaxing.
Fallen closed, your eyes flutter open, an almost reluctant sigh out your mouth before your flip flops trudge through the grainy sand. Under their comically large parasol, Anton gazes up at you, book stationed in his lap.
"You read?"
"That's what I was thinking!" Yunjin rips open a bag of chips, tossing some in her mouth. "Thought he was doing the whole performative male thing to impress you."
"Well, not that he hasn't from what I've heard," she shrugs at your appalled expression, focus directed to the man next to you. "I'd school you in feminist literature, so don't even try."
A good-hearted chuckle is introduced, featherlight against your spine. "The world doesn't need me mansplaining feminist literature, don't worry,"
"Besides, I don't get the whole performative male trend thing anyways," he explains, sitting back in his chair, hips jutting in adjustment. Your head is on a prompt swivel afterwards. "Were guys not reading books before?"
In sheer coincidence, all six of your friends look at each other before laughter breaks out, the deep, chesty kind that has you doubled over, teary-eyed. The guys look to each other, taken aback.
Except for Sungchan, eyes creased with mirth. "I can't remember last time I read one."
"Think I last read one in like, grade two," Sohee offers.
"Explains why you can't differentiate between you're and your." Anton jokes, teasing smirk not deterred by the fake punch Sohee jabs his way.
Wonbin's nose crinkles, slouching further into his blue and white chair fit for a child. "I tried the whole performative thing, couldn't hack the taste of matcha."
Hovering just behind him, Seunghan rolls his eyes, bleached eyebrows on their last legs. "Clairo was my top artist last year. I've been setting trends."
"Okay, enough with the ego battle," Heejin's eyebrow knit, nodding her head towards the source of her observation. "What's up with the sandcastle?"
It's pretty impressive, all things considered. Dolphins line the exterior of the castle, the two-storey sandy architecture dotted with small plastic starfish and seashells that have somehow found their way into Wonbin's and Shotaro's hair.
"It's halfway made, had to stop since Sohee complained about getting sand in his eye," Shotaro explains with comedic timing, head turned back to witness Eunseok kick up more sand into his eyes, his shriek accompanied with his friend's laugh. "Wanna finish it?"
On her stripped green and white beach towel, she and Choerry share a look. Then shrug. "Why not?"
The communal conversation ends, people branching off into their beach activities of the day: sandcastle building, tanning and going for a dip in the ocean. You fall back into your designated chair, almost winded from the conversation.
"All I did was ask you a question." you muse, swiping the side of your face, laughing a little.
"That's how it always is — with us, anyways," Anton explains, slouching into his chair. He's got black shades on, sitting pretty on his nose bridge, your stomach's residing butterflies alive and well. "Despite how soft we speak, we actually talk a lot."
Your grin's shit-eating, hand clasped over your ear with a lean over to him. "What was that?"
Something about being with him makes you seesaw between playfulness and nervous wreck. It's the only time you welcome the tide changes. "Had to, sorry."
"Don't be sorry. I should be," he adjusts himself with the lift of his hips, his knee knocking against yours. An air of earnestness comes in with the sea breeze, his sunglasses used to push back his hair, nothing coming between his gaze on you. "I left yesterday."
He's said it, acknowledged it. Not pretend nothing ever happened like the other douches you had the displeasure of meeting, with your friends present too.
"To tend to a friend, yes," you heave out, hands running up and down the grain of your cargo jorts. Was it always this hot? "Is he feeling any better?"
Repeated huffs make their way to your ears, attention directed to beyond your mix of friends, Eunseok and Sohee busy themselves with fake jabs and ducked heads. Sohee's motions are more fluid, a jab almost landed to the surprise of them both. Eunseok then prompts him to watch, the older of the two lifting up into a random backflip.
Anton and yourself look at each other, bitten back amusement heavy in your disbelief.
"Yeah, think so," he answers, a chuckle at the end. Then it dulls completely, only waves crashing and distant conversation hanging around. "Did you enjoy? Last night, I mean."
Your breath stutters, an upheaval in your chest. In the slump of your exhale, your head turns away, nails grating into the chair's wooden arms.
"Did you?" you ask. Your throat clears, scratchy and lodged. "We didn't get to you."
"What I get isn't the main priority."
Fuck.
The mouth on this guy.
Suddenly, the heat dials up to intolerance, skin prickling under layers you shoot out your chair to remove.
"You going for a dip? I'm kinda feeling hot."
In the ruckus of you tearing off clothing items, his murmured "Wonder why," hits your ears. A look tossed over your shoulder earns held up hands of surrender, something akin to bashful in his features.
His bones creak as he stands, toned torso in plain sight. It's the very reason why your eyes were averted throughout the conversation, ocean droplets hanging off his body in a mean taunt. He could say the same thing as he watches you shimmy out of your jorts and baby tee, bikini draping your curves like a fitted glove. For what feels like a rarity, he coughs into his fist with the turn of his head, hoping you don't see the blush creeping to his cheeks.
You do.
Timidity melts with hours spent in the sun, easiness in your interactions with Anton and his group that quickly become close friends with yours. Some things may skew under the influence but not your opinion of their group, their playful boyish nature almost endearing to be around. The kind of guys who know how to have fun without the expense of someone else, all good natured fun. After your dip in the ocean, water splashed around while you and Anton revert to your child selves, you join your big group again, spectators and eventual participants in tales traded in the conversation that never runs dry.
Sometime later, when the sun's more gentle on the skin, the girls and yourself trudge your way over to the surf tournament on the opposite end of the beach. The guys hang back to move all their plentiful belongings to the campsite, their seats reserved in the circle you manage to carve out in the tightly packed beach, terrain full of enthusiasts who cheer and clap during warm-ups.
"Hey," Sullyoon calls out, phone brightness on high to show off the photo of Larry the Lobster next to Jinsol's sunburnt face. "Spot the difference."
She earns a shove to their shared beach towel, snickers circling round your group. "Not funny. I thought I re-applied it."
Smacking on gum, Kazuha's line of sight lingers on the surfer girl walking past, golden hair like ocean waves. "Too busy thinking about last night."
Mouth slacking, you knock her knees in surprise. "What happened last night?"
"You weren't the only one who got some, " Sullyoon chuckles, arms crossing around knees she brings to her chest. "We all saw Jinsol make-out with Wonbin in 4K,"
"I was high on molly!" Jinsol protests, looking for believers amongst none. "I loved everyone at that moment!"
Heejin does a poor job at hiding her amusement, digging her feet into the sand. "No one mentioned love," she muses.
"I get it though. If I kissed someone who pulled off pink hair that well, I'd fall too."
A whistle blows, warm-ups over with the MCs's voice broadcasts throughout the beach, string of surfer lingo lost on you as your group simply resorts to clapping, laughing at Heejin's remark.
"I'm not—" Jinsol's voice reaches an all-time high, the sheer volume making her hunch into herself. Fiddle with the hem of her oversized linen shirt."It was a one time thing, okay?"
Sullyoon nudges her with her shoulder, a kinder tint to her smirk. "Didn't look it." her head falls to her best friend's shoulder, a tinge of longing in her tone. "Can't believe I've been replaced."
Jinsol detects it immediately, a kiss laid upon Sullyoon's cooper brown locks.
"I could never replace you."
The same sentiment carries through to all six of you huddled together, reliving every past summer with them at your side. Even when the guys come back and settle in like they'd never left, the feeling never diminishes. A red string of fate weaves itself around your pinkies, another one quietly tethering itself to the man sat behind you.
Waking up Sunday morning fills your body with a satisfied sadness. Every year is like this, shuffling around cocooned in your sleeping bag, chatting in stripped voices with friends who are already reliving the weekend's memories. Again, you swear you'll come back next year and every year in university, that was one of life's certainties. However, now when one or two echo the same sentence, you're holding onto straws as tight as possible, wishing — praying it's true. Because, how after four years of coming here, is this the best year yet?
Excluding Anton's presence, something feels so purposeful about this year. Time carved out with the intention to be together like before, because you're not afforded that casual luxury anymore. Each joke, hug, tumble and song belted together feels all the more special, soul finding its true home in the bodies of your lovely six — the girls you wouldn't trade for anything. Not even for the feeling Anton gives you.
In a way, he feels like a first. A bouquet of them all wrapped in one — the only you've orbited around and hasn't wanted to lose you in the crowd. Hell, he'd even reach for you like he did when your groups split for different night DJ sets. How ever small the action, it still sticks with you, still does as you're munching on pain au chocolats for breakfast, Heejin smiling a chocolate-chip stained smile for your group in the common room. Laughter surrounds you, everyone so happy, even more so when Kazuha leans in with a stuck out tongue as if to lick it. Heejin cowers, Kazhua collapsing into her lap and it's so beautiful it hurts. Your head leans to your closest, Choerry's shoulder sturdy as you've always known it to be. Even though you can't see it, you hear her smile before her head angles onto yours, united like you've always been.
Like you'll always be.
After freshening up and getting dressed for the day, your plentiful jewellery jangles with each step, making your way to the morning stages. Half the festival's still asleep, groggy over the non-stop days and nights partying. You're all plagued with fatigue, but it doesn't make itself known, triumphing over the fuzzy feeling as your arms drape over each other's shoulders, at the barricade of a small-time DJ your group's been obsessed since your second year, his remix all on your music wrapped top five songs. Not many others are at the set, maybe three to four waves of people behind your bodies but it doesn't deter the DJ. He's even smiling, egged on by the obnoxious belting your friends do to your beloved remix, two fingers flicked into the air.
"I thought it was a myth!" Jinsol yells into your ear, a laughing look of disbelief. "A real-life frat boy flick — in the flesh!"
"You're doing amazing, sweetie!" The comment hurls from you, Sullyoon to your right having detached from you to do a frenzied two step, pumping her body with a complimentary frat flick. It's ridiculous, so much that your stomach cramps from long laughter. But it's so needed, all the hours you spend together before and afterwards.
Two sets and a lot of dancing later, you grab fish and chips by the beach, ducking and diving in the sand from overly friendly seagulls. After they've snagged half your meal, you all dip your toes in the ocean, kicking up water with the excuse of cooling off. Eventually, your hands clasp together, patches of sea water embedded into your flowy clothing, a firm promise to comeback sent into the universe.
This time, you don't doubt it to be true.
At the height of early afternoon, after crawling the trampled grounds for other acts and photo opportunities, you eventually settle on visiting the carnival. There's teacups, a Ferris Wheel and rigged games you play anyways, a stroke of luck awarding Choerry a large Care Bear she promises to share group-wide custody with. Your weekend mascot, Kazuha supplies.
In the chaos of ring toss and going dizzying-green on the teacups, you almost miss sight of him. Almost. If not for you bumping into him, hands steadying yourself on his chest.
You blink away the dizzy film across your eyes, swivelled head coming to rest as you feel a chuckle rumble beneath your hands.
"You ok there?"
The same smile plays on his face, figure haloed by the beginnings of a sunset. "Never better."
"Did you enjoy the beach?" he asks, no move done to remove your hands.
His hands come to rest on your hips, your own bubble created off to the side of the rides. Out the corner of your eye, yours and his friends intersect, dishing out hugs like family.
"How'd you know I was there?" your eyebrow quirks, hands smoothing over the collar of his black and white baseball long-sleeve. "You stalking me?"
His eyes crease like you're a comedian. "If I knew your handle, then yes,"
"But there's a seashell in your hair," he muses, one hand retrieving it to put it between you two. Iridescent shell curving itself, pearl white its outer shell. "Is this how you keep it safe for the ride home?"
"You'd be surprised what my hair can keep," you respond, the shrieks of teacup riders a hair width away. "Seashells, secrets."
"What secrets?"
Your hand beckons him over, his head dipped as he lends you an ear, hand cupping around it. On the height of your toes, you whisper. "Kings of Leon are on in five. Let's line up for the Swing Tower."
Anton pulls away, a deep nod his answer. "We should get going, shouldn't we?"
His head turns behind him, flagging his friends close by. "We're gonna ride the Swing Tower if you wanna join?"
"We'll leave you lovebirds alon— " Sohee's silenced by Shotaro's hand over him, rest of his sentences muffled but widely known.
"We'll be right behind you." Shotaro says with a convincing smile, eyes moon crescents behind his thin-rimmed silver glasses.
Another knowing look is traded between Anton and yourself before you lead your group to the queue steps away, Anton's hand a ghost on your lower back. The quiet presence anchors you in place, the floating feeling of a good trip settling in. In the odd gusts of faint wind, you conversate with those closest to you — Seunghan, Wonbin along with Sullyoon and Jinsol. Something about other festivals you've been to over the years, one out of the many mentioned aligning at the start of September.
"Starting off the summer and ending it together," Wonbin gathers, arms folding. "It's like fate, no?"
Somehow, your eyes find Anton's, startled but all too aware, you would've found each other then.
"It is." he answers, only to you.
A long moment keeps you unmoving, the orange sun splaying over his large pupils. Without meaning to, your attention strays, witnessing the downturned smiles of the four others. You're about to breach another conversation topic before the worker maning the queue calls you forward, an onslaught of previous customers shuffling off in a line next to you.
Ascending the rickety metal stairs of the ride, jitters nibble away at your flesh. All the restless anticipation built over the day boils down to now, a time where the excitement crosses over into nervous territory with Anton leading the way. You simply follow along to a swing fit for two, its hot pink shade an eyestrain. You fiddle with your rings the entire way, plotting down with the laboured rise and fall of your chest. A real sense of entrapment comes when the same worker comes over, heavy safety bar crushing you into place.
Somewhere behind you, you hear something akin to Yunjin and maybe Eunseok's yells despite the swing not moving yet. You want to look back, but you're frozen in place, knees weak enough to give out. Thank goodness you were—
Warmth blankets the top of your hand, your palm strikingly cold against the safety bar. What's previously heard as a loud jumble of sound separate from one another, the monster not as scary as your head turns to the hand's source.
Anton wears the sunset on his face, flow between features like a slow moving river. He speaks the same way too, slow like molasses.
"Hey, you're good. We're good," he assures, fingers weaving between yours to push your hand harder against the bar. "Kings of Leon deserves to this kind of listening experience."
You crack a laugh despite yourself, his words not all it takes to make the nerves disappear but enough to make friends with them. The exhausted engine the ride starts up with doesn't inspire lots of confidence, sputtering as if on its last legs. But when your swing starts moving, gliding through the chilled air, a lightness takes up your chest cavity. The hard thud of your own heart demands attention, but when the distinct drum solo ending of Manhattan hits your ears, you're unreasonably giddy, sinking into the notes. Hoots and hollers slice through the flowing air, almost child-like as the swings gain traction, hoisting further into the sky. The sun draws closer, almost like you could reach out and grab it. There's a beauty in how cotton candy floss the sky looks, clouds pastel pink dipped in peach around their edges. Their backdrop is almost purple in nature, light blue having since faded. Moisture collects in your squinted eyes, wind cutting through them while you work overtime to admire the view.
It's not really anything you care for in the lulls of your life, but moments like this make the hues sing to your soul, resounded by the gentle guitar strings of Time in Disguise. In your version of events, Use Somebody played like it would in the perfect coming-of-age film. But life isn't like that, a cookie-cutter of perfect events. Sometimes you get your chips stolen by entitled seagulls and sometimes you're so afraid of heights, you're bending the safety bar with your grip. It's not perfect by any means, but it's pretty damn close to it.
When you're at the top, nothing but clouds and birds around, your head turns beside you. Anton's got one hand raised, fingers spread like he'll catch the wind between them. The sunset does him favours he doesn't need, shadows cast in the sharp angles of his face, a painting of sentimental as his lips part in a silent sing-along. The lyrics amplify out your chest, volume whipping his head round with the flare of life in his eyes. There's a small tremble in your voice, masked by the sky-high winds but even if there's no blanket to hide behind, you're still unashamed. Sharing giggles with each other in lyrics known by heart, each word louder than the last. At the chorus littered with questions, your hand relents, prying off the poor safety bar but tightly-woven into Anton's, kept between your bodies as the other hand extends to catch wind like his did. While you may age years down the line, memory coming and going, you find it hard to say you'll forget this moment — friends' unmistakable cheers adlibs to Caleb Followill's soulful voice, time nothing but a disguise amongst the clouds.
Eventually, when you reach the ride's pinnacle, it comes to a momentary halt. It's not as thrilling stopped, the denseness of being so many feet in the air putting you on the wrong side of weightless, core tensed. A squeeze to your held hands alerts you over to Anton, his finger extended over into the horizon.
"See there?" he gestures to the biggest stage of the festival, an unearthly field worth of people watching the performance. "That's where they are. They're playing I Want You — which is their best song, by the way."
"Why do I feel like you're the type to watch music festivals when drunk?" you ask, playing off distant memories at your uncle's house, sipping on grape juice and beer respectively while watching Glastonbury stages.
He cast you a side glance, trying not to smile. "Are you psychic or in my walls?"
"Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Your held hands fall to your shared lap, his broad shoulder free real estate you take upon yourself to indulge, laying your head down. It's only a scarce amount of seconds before his head leans as well, on top of yours before a yell from behind calls to you.
With a micro shift in your swing, you manage to catch a familiar platinum bob, belonging to none other than Jinsoul. Your head cannot crane further to see who sits beside her.
"It's Sullyoon," Anton supplies with a wink.
"We snapped a really cute photo! You'll like it!" Jinsoul holler mid-air, your thanks and thumbs up thrown her way.
"I think looking at my phone would make me sick."
"Don't worry, I've got it." his hand pats his trouser pocket, pulling out his own. Instead of navigating through AirDrop, he opens up his camera app, lens full of the saturating sunset.
"Get it before it goes," you encourage, clicks off going as the camera captures it landscape and portrait, in different frame settings too.
"They'll be all yours once we're back down," he says, holding the device with his non dominant hand. In an absent tap, the camera flips onto you two, the picture of domesticity pulling your head back slightly. "My bad."
"No, take it." you're scooching closer into the frame when there's no need to, cheek squished into the curve of his shoulder. Searching eyes flicker down to yours in a question of reassurance, your head nod all he needs before he shakes his head to fluff his hair.
Lavender makes its way to your nose, dry shampoo doing the heavy lifting for his hair according to Wonbin tidbit shared in the queue. In near direct sunlight, your eyes squint slightly, spying the peace signs posed behind your backs as he snaps the photo, 1 of 1.
Just as he's stashing his phone away, the ride moves again, swing moving forwards again as the rig lowers. While your fear waits to kiss the ground once back down, a slight longing hangs in the curtains of your emotions, eased by the brush of Anton's thumb to your knuckles, voice louder to sing to Radioactive.
Back on your own two feet is when your hands finally release, clammy in some areas, but a none issue for Anton who only jokingly bumps into your side on the way tothe rest of your group. In the quick discussion of what to do, quickly deciding to catch the rest of Kings of Leon's set, your phone pings in your bumbag. Unzipped, you unlock it, only to be distracted by an Airdrop request from Jinsol. Looking at her, she, Sullyoon and a nosy Sungchan admire the photos, thumbs up sent your way. Once delivered, the image takes up your entire screen.
It's like you're sitting at the height of the world, feet dangling off the swing as the sunset eclipses your faces. Your face is largely unseen, focused on the ahead sunset, but Anton's side profile is most prominent, eyes drinking in every drop of you. The pastel background emphasizes the affection in his expression, an almost honey-like sweetness dripping from his eyes. It's stunning, very much worthy of the thumbs up.
Another notification blocks the picture, an Airdrop message from Nugu6000.
You're about to delete it before Anton's soft voice tells you it's him, the shake of your head his only response. There's 17 photos in total, sixteen of them the breath-taking sky at all angles, your favourite amongst many. The last photo, different from the rest, is your picture together. It's just as sweet as Jinsol's photo, maybe even more because now both your faces are visible, the same sentiment displayed in both.
It doesn't take long to be added to your favourites folder, tucked away with the 16 sky photos, phone turned off to the image of you two hanging at the top of the universe.
For someone who was undecided on going to Kings of Leon's set, you sure knew their lyrics, classics dusted off the shelves of your memory as you bob along with the crowd. No effort's made to venture further like last night, the freedom of the outskirts outweighing the hassle of being swept away.
Live music is an experience you'll always chase, something deep in you seeking raw vocals and strum of the guitar you feel course through your veins. Even with its' dulled ache through the mileage collected over the weekend, your feet never stop moving, two-stepping into the crowd as Anton shadows you, an enthused nod bringing out laughter in you.
In curiosity, your eyes comb over your surroundings, starstruck faces many in the crowd, all sharing the look of enjoyment. Of freedom the music gives, telling a story all up to one's interpretation. The same enjoyment tugs at your lips, eyes falling back to your group who again, enjoy nothing more than each other's company, interwoven in ways that seem like forever. Yunjin and Eunseok have their backs to each other, air-guitaring while Shotaro, Choerry, Sungchan and Kazuha have their arms looped over each other's shoulders swaying, singing obnoxiously loud. The rest nod along, unfamiliar with the words but not the sentiment, the same happiness in them too.
It's a moment you wish you could keep in a glass bottle forever, revisit when life was its clear opposite.
You don't allow yourself to go there, not even by a millimetre, sinking your teeth into the beauty of the moment. The frontman, Caleb, converses with the crowd, band members egging on crowd reactions as a lone drum beat comes. It brings the crowd alive, a call and response created to jump-start the song everyone knows and responds to.
Use Somebody.
Everyone's hands go sky-high, up as they fall into the rhythm of a slow left to right. The weightlessness is there, infectious with everybody in the largest crowd of the weekend. Anton's behind you, a comforting presence as his hand shadow yours, a brief squeeze of your hands making you laugh with the easiness that comes with him, a warm light shining from within.
In your ear, you hear him sing, tender like he wants to charm butterflies. You flock to him regardless, turning back around to get a good look at him. He's tanned beautifully over the past sunny days, beloved by the sun bringing out the deep olive of his complexion. His hair's wind swept, not fussed over since the Swing Tower and he…just looks so content. With everything, with the band performing in front of him, his friends around and your hands in his. Something divine swipes over your figures, dissipating the crowd to only your two souls. Eyes dazzling, lyrics flowing and just the right type of romance.
The kind you didn't think as conceivable in the wake of non-committal jokes. The kind wicked uni boys convinced you you'd do without, only amounting to the promise of a good time.
Again, Anton's eyes crease, a crinkle to his nose. He looks at you like you're something special and even without him, you know it to be true. It's just nice to have him see it too.
Kissing him never gets old, but there's a special kind of kiss done lost in the crowd, Sex on Fire beginning in the background. You smile at the irony, looping your arms around his nape while you rock yourself onto your tip toes, wanting it all. There's leftover sugar grains on his lips, the taste of cinnamon and vanilla ice cream on his tongue. His hands anchor down at your hips, the only thing tethering you down to earth as the rest of you floats. Nothing more consumes your mind more than your lips on him, everything an afterthought as his tongue glides over your bottom lip.
Desperate fingers tangle into his locks of hair, pulling when his teeth catch between your lip, the slightest tug drawing a whine out of you. And he has the audacity to smile afterwards, against your lips like your body isn't hot coal level warm.
When your lungs scream for air, constricted beyond comfort is only when you bear to pry from Anton, eyes blinking apart to focus again. He's so clear to you, wrapped in hues of orange and red, brimming with the same fondness you feel tickle in your chest.
No part of you wants to stop, neither does Anton who goes back in for more. You swear your hear some wolf whistles, but this time all you can do is laugh, pecking him back before your seeking hands grab ahold of his, set in your way as you lead him through the jostling crowd.
On your way out, your eyes catch on Jinsol, shoulders blanketed in Wonbin's embrace as they nod along to the song's last notes. Like clockwork, she catches onto yours, tawny brown eyes wide all before her lips curve into a knowing smirk, the words 'have fun' mouthed before you pass.
It's Friday all over again, same hand clasped and fingers interlocked, you leading him where more awaits. Except there's no jittery feeling nipping at your turning stomach, no tremble of your hand. Just the satisfaction of having Anton all to yourself, all while you can.
Not a moment is wasted, the quick unzip and zip of the tent you've called home for the weekend the only thing you grab ahold of before you're swept off your feet. He brings you impossibly close, demanding hands swallowing the underside of your bare thighs as you jump into his arms, rocking yourself on his growing erection with moans that bleed over.
It's hungry, the way you both move for a surface to fuck on, your back eventually meeting the polyester of your trusty sleeping bag. His hand comes from underneath your head, wanting to cushion your fall but as he comes back up for air, you do too, following him in flimsy kisses as clothes get tossed aside, shaky pants all you hear beyond the quiet festival murmur.
"Anton," you rasp, desperately needy as his mouth trails the sweet skin of your neck, marking his presence. "Don't tease. Not now."
He licks a long stripe against the skin, tasting salt and the unique blend of you that makes him moan. "I won't,"
A chaste kiss presses against you, the brush of his lips the aftermath. "Even my patience has limits."
The gruff of his words pool heat in your swirling belly, a pathetic mess between your legs he firms open with skimming kisses, unable to deny himself a sliver of you. Once his hands hit the waistband of your underwear, pretty accent bow a feast for his eyes, they flicker up to yours. He's all pupils, a slim ring of brown around darkness illuminated by Yunjin's pearl light. The way he's looking at you — like he can't wait to eat you — you're surprised he doesn't rip the material in half, having the decency to peel the soaked material off, watching the string of slick connected to the gusset stretch. A pained sound claws from his chest, canines digging deep into his bottom lip as he watches the vulgar show, all until the material is discarded.
"Poor girl. So wet for me," he says, inching closer to you. Anticipation makes your thoughts race, your only focus pinpointed on the man between your legs. "I'll take care of you now. Just be good for me."
In the echo of his words, he lines himself with your weeping cunt, face contorting into the sweet mix of pleasure and devastation as he slides in. As vaguely gauged in moments of intimacy, he's big, fat tip stretching your hole in a preview for what his hard length brings. Immediately, your legs twitch, idle hands not knowing what to do except claw into the sleeping bag's swishing material, long overdue moans filling the thin walls.
"You're so—ngh," you grunt, eyebrows screwed together, mouth panting. "Fuck."
"You can take it, I know you can," he goads, a teasing curve to his plump lips, back of his finger cascading up your flushed cheek. The hairs on your sweat-slicked neck stand, deep inhale filling your lungs. "Look at how needy you are, squirming for more."
His dense stare bores into your flesh, not addressed as your eyes focus on the view between your legs. Quietly watching, his veined pelvis draws closer, neatly trimmed pubes an airbrush to sensitive skin as his hard cock slides into you, cruel and achingly slow. It's more of a shuddered breath than calm exhale you do as he stretches your walls, quick to come down on him as his hand bruises your hip. Only when he's buried to the hilt can you breath again, a struggling moan climbing out your lips as you peer up with creased brows, the ghost of Anton's smirk all that's left as his mouth parts with pleasure.
"Should've done this ages ago," he remarks, a grunt heaved out his chest. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so good"
An experimental roll of his hips has you gripping at the material of your sleeping bag, his pine oak scent embracing you as he gives you more. A lazy fog begins on the edges of your vision, the rush of blood pounding in your ears competing with the slap of skin, his pelvis and heavy balls smacking against the plush of your ass. It's nasty, the indecent squelch echoing where you two meet, satisfaction curving Anton's red-kissed lips.
"Hear that? Oh, she's crying for me," his sentence ends with a haunting chuckle, cunt clamping down to the filth of it. While he builds a steady rhythm, making sure to touch every inch of your sensitive walls, your eyes roll back, arms shaking to the burst of pleasure quickly overwhelming you. "Just like that, needy girl. Let go, let me make you feel good."
Your toes curl with a teeth-bared grunt, the drag of each vein and ridge pooling a thick, hot ball of insatiable lust in your belly, body hunching into itself. Anton opens the valve to your endless moans, desperate sounds unrecognisable to your burning ears as he goes hard enough to make your breasts jump each thrust.
"That's so good," you wither, willing the tears of overwhelm not to overflow. "You're so fucking good, oh my god."
"No one does it better, right? No one fucks you like I do?"
"Yesyesyes!" the confirmation resounds through the tent, for his ears and yours. You sniffle, close to breaking. "Only you, Anton. Only you."
He grunts, expression taut in restrain."You're so sweet for me, angel," air pushes out his chest rhythmically, echoing the pace of his fast thrusts.
"Harder, harder!" you squeal, white-knuckling the material underneath you. "Give it to me, please!"
"Fuck," he curses out, a momentary lapse in movement used to adjust himself, both hands iron-tight on your humping hips. "You begging gets me so hard. Makes me wanna do filthy things to you."
"Do it!" your hips buck on him, starved for more. "Want it all, Ton."
Determination lining the hard edges of his face, thrusts come down on your body with a punishing force, the breath knocked out of you. Your eyes cross, girthy cock splitting you open in the best way, skin friction licking heat up your bowed spine.
The whole room spins, festival the furthest thing from mind. The world boils to this, to Anton and the only kind of pleasure he gives you, the explosive burst of ecstasy ticking in you like a time-bomb.
"I'll—ah! I'll come if you d-don't slow down," you warn, weak outstretched hand. The high you're on hurtles you towards ground unknown, the inkling feeling drawing slight panic in your eyes that can only slow blink. "I'm gonna p—!"
"Sounds like you don't know your body like I do," he has the audacity to smirk, gold chain beating between his collarbones, chiselled torso something of your wettest dreams. One hand relents off your hip, skin perfectly bruised as it slides between you two, bunched fingers rubbing your clit. "You're gonna make a mess for me, baby. Go on, it'll feel good."
A snake to a charmer, your body moves to his notes, the world imploding all around you. You crash into your orgasm hard, air strangled out your burning lungs as your gasp echoes in the back of your mind, head thrown back with a hard thud. Body no longer yours, it moves on its own accord, thrashing around as the pleasure ripples through every micro cell, cunt shooting out a flood of liquid drenching Anton's lower half and your poor sleeping bag (again). You're too out of it to conceive the matter, much less sheepishly apologize, nonsensical babbles running out your mouth.
"Sit tight, pretty girl. I'm right there with you," his words make their way to you, heavy and tormented. "God, gonna fill you up just right. Have you dripping with my come. You want it, don't you? Don't you, sweet girl?"
He's still working circles over your aching clit, overstimulation creeping in ever so slightly, unimaginable bliss close behind. Your body can only shiver, hard and continuously, hips still bucking to meet his thrusts as he ruts one last time before he stills. His tip jabs hard against your cervix, unleashing a deep-seated scream that forces you into your own orgasm, cheeks gathering moisture as you come with a cry.
It's a long while before the world makes sense again, pulled out of your closest to heaven experience, arms blanketing your eyes. Laboured, your chest heaves, hard pressed for air that makes its way to your brain again, pumping blood slowing in the background. Your core shakes in overuse, not bothering with sitting up and only looking, one eye cracked open with your arms pushing up slightly. In your lethargic film-coated gaze, Anton's top half brackets over yours, pants resounding with a sweat-layered fringe sticking to his forehead, tongue swiping over his lips.
Mid swipe, his eyes flicker over to yours, kindness blooming across his face. He smiles like he's been caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
Seems like his words have caught up to him.
"That was," he murmurs, thumb and index finger ironing out his scrunched eyebrows. "A lot. I'm sorry if that was uncomfortable for you."
"The opposite, actually," you end up saying, surprising yourself and him, owlish blinks shared between the two of you. "I-I liked it — if you couldn't tell."
His eyes drop down to your sleeping bag, clear liquid sat on the waterproof surface. "I had a feeling."
The embarrassment diasrms you, hands running over your hot face while you scramble for words to say. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know I could do that, I'll take care of it."
He laughs like you've told a joke, nose scrunched with a gasp-like laughter. "No hard feelings, I'm glad I could make you feel something good — something new."
Your tongue clicks, enough energy restored to have you sit upwards, scepticism narrowing your eyes. "Should've never believed the girls when they said you're the shy type."
His hand cups around the half of his mouth, voice dropped to a loud whisper. "It's always the shy ones."
You chuckle with him, swatting away his hand, only him to grasp onto you, fingers interlocking in a slow, gentle move. The uptake in your heart rate is comical, breath shallow as Anton's larger hand gives yours a squeeze of comfort, smile like honey.
"I'm glad I came here," he lets you know, eyes on yours as they've always been. "I'm glad I met you."
A homeliness engulfs your heart, body warm and buzzing. "I'm glad I met you too."
Monday is an odd day. The grogginess of non-stop partying finally catching up with your battered body, sandy eyes burning with each lazy blink. Much isn't said as you dissemble your weekend home, packing away your lumpy pillow you really have to replace next year, saying goodbye to Yunjin's pearl light too.
Speaking of Anton, in yet another stroke of fate ─ out of all the cars crawling in the long exiting lines of the festival, their black Land Rover inches right beside yours, surfboards and camping miscellaneous hanging out the back. Along with Sohee and Eunseok, waving to your car.
In the car seat opposite yours, Anton pulls out his wired earphones, looking frontwards where Shotaro speaks from the driver's sear. A nod in your direction is all it takes for the red string to connect again, your smiles instant and everlasting.
A few mouthed words are traded, left to personal interpretation before he hoists his phone up. Projected on his lockscreen is nothing but sheer coincidence, the song playing sending your heart into a series of flutters. A full circle moment to the summer you'd been longing for.
Wish You Were Mine.
And lucky for him, he doesn't have to wish. You are his as much as summer is yours, sea breeze blowing through rolled-down windows as Sullyoon's car chases the sun, fast-tracked to your next adventure.
thank you for reading! („• ֊ •„)੭
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Finally watched Project Hail Mary with some of my 4 leaf clovers this morning and the whole time it was us being heart broken on top of thirsting over ryan gosling + my sweetheart lily falling asleep 😭💞
the way u paused the movie multiple times and restarted just to watch it with me…. #real friends
for context: i was watching things in 2x speed so we weren’t in sync but lily uses the same streaming platform i does, hence. viv came to the rescue and ended up streaming things for us in one device 🙏 everyone say thank yew @arkcumknight69
⭒ author's note: hello everyoneeee !! finally the first chapter of that’s what you get is here!!!!! it’s been SUCH a long time since i last wrote a smau and honestly i’m just really happy to be writing here again 🥺 and i promise you guys this one is not getting abandoned LMAOOO she’s staying with me until the very end because i’m genuinely having soooo much fun writing this story and i hope you guys have just as much fun reading it as i’m having while writing it 😭 i’m gonna try to post a new chapter every 2-3 days!! i already have a good part of it written so hopefully updates will be pretty consistent this time 🙏 i really hope you guys enjoy it mwah!!!!
Package Deal
Ship: Best Friend!Heeseung x Reader x Enemy!Sunghoon
Description: For as long as you were going to be Heeseung’s best friend, you’d have to put up with his other best friend, Sunghoon, who absolutely despises you. Things only get more complicated after an incident that leads people to think you took the package deal.
Warnings: Threesome, Eiffel Tower, MxM action, Dom/BratTamer!Heeseung, Switch!Sunghoon, Oral (m&f receiving), Unproteced Sex, Squirting, Impact Play, Dacryphilia, Creampie, Cum Play, Edging, Overstimulation, Humiliation/Degradation, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Praise, Pussy Slapping, Multiple Orgasms, Sadomasochism, Dry Humping literally this is 90% smut barely any plot, terrible attempts at humor
Wordcount: 15k
A/N: Ahh sorry I keep making the reader not get along with Sunghoon lol. I just love best friends and enemies tropes, what can I say. I hope everyone enjoys this. I started writing it before March and found finishing it cathartic. I still plan to write Heeseung fics in the future and have him be included as a character in future Enhypen fics. You can find the BTS Jungkook & Taehyung version on my blog @littlemisskookie as Group Bonding!
When you first met Heeseung it was for your debate program in University. He was the only one who could match you with for wit, point for point, all within the allotted time and with brevity and well spoken analysis that you were in awe of. Surprisingly the two of you did not become rivals, the way high school you would've fantasized, having read way too much enemies to lovers fanfiction. No, instead you two actually became very good friends, building a friendship based on mutual respect, sticking together even after graduation.
Heeseung was practically perfect in every way except with one minute (major) flaw: his other best friend.
You and Park Sunghoon never really saw eye-to-eye; the moment you crossed paths with his childhood best friend, his original debate partner back in high school, you knew you had entered a battlefield.
It was a never ending fight between the two of you, always vying for Heeseung's affections. Sunghoon had always accused you of being a leech, just another sycophant who would reveal her true colors and nefarious intentions towards his best friend. Apparently they had known each other since childhood, and he had seen a million girls like you come and go. You, on the other hand, found Sunghoon to be an entitled, pompous brat whose rich family provided so much for him he had never been told the word no. He was so used to Heeseung being his and his alone that you had trouble picturing him sharing anything in his life. That was probably the real reason why girls didn't last long around Heeseung.
It didn't help that Heeseung was constantly trying to facilitate things between the two of you, arranging for the three of you to hang out despite both parties' protest.
"If you guys only got to know each other better, I'm sure you'd get along!"
"Won't you guys try, for me? C'mon, I've always pictured what things would be like, the three of us."
"You're both my best friends. Why would anyone choose just one?"
More times than you could count you were invited to hang out with Heeseung, only to find Sunghoon already be there. You tried to get along with the man, really, but it was nearly impossible. He was so possessive of Hee, constantly glaring at the two of you when Heeseung showed you any affection. He always had some snide comment to make about it afterwards, like just seeing you two so close made him want to throw up. You were positively sure at this point that the younger was in love with his best friend, but it was a working theory.
Regardless, anything you showed up to with Heeseung, you'd have to be ok with Sunghoon tagging along as well. Tonight's party was no exception, though you had lost track of the duo when you went to find a drink to drown your sorrows, and then had to do it again after seeing said sorrow to drink over.
You stumbled up the stairs with a heavy heart, downing most of your cup to replace one bitter taste in your mouth with another. To your surprise you see your best friend waiting in the hallway, no Sunghoon in sight, looking just as drunk as you based on the way he was slumped against the wall.
You walked up to him, back pressing against the wall as well, leaning your arm against his for support and also needing the comfort of his body heat against yours right now.
"Hey, where've ya been? I've been looking for you for the past ten minutes I feel," you pouted, taking another sip of the fruity concoction in your cup, the vodka starting to become less noticeable.
The moment Heeseung registered you he glowed, beaming with a goofy, drunk, genuine smile that made you feel safe.
"Hey, sorry! Hoon broke the seal, and I didn't want to lose more than one person in a single night," Heeseung chuckled, grabbing you arm and tucking it against his, pulling you in closer to his side. "How're you enjoying the party?"
You shrugged, unsure if you wanted to mention the sight downstairs you were currently running from. "It's fine, I guess."
"Yeah, I was thinking about the three of us ditching to go to that party on Brunswick, but none of us seem quite capable of driving just yet."
That put a damper on your hopes of Heeseung whisking you away from this place.
"I just remembered, I forgot to show you earlier today the new watch I got from Etsy!" Heeseung's glazed eyes lit up. "Look, it's called a serpent's watch."
Heeseung flashed the fancy accessory on his wrist, the nontraditional wristband being coils of metal that wrapped down his wrist, the clock shaped closer to an oval or diamond than a circle. It really was shaped liked a serpent.
You absentmindedly nodded, fingers brushing over the way the watch wrapped around Heeseung's wrist. Your mind kept drifting from Heeseung's forearms, however, and without sobriety to keep your mind where it should be, tears were soon falling from your eyes.
Hee noticed immediately.
"Hey hey, what's wrong?" Heeseung cupped your face in his hands, thumbs swiping under your eyes to wipe away at the tears. "It's a party, you should be happy-drunk, not sad-drunk."
Your lip trembled as you melted into Heeseung's touch. "It's Jake," you explained, a pout on your lips as you said the name. "Just saw him downstairs with some girl. I just wasn't expecting it to hit so hard, y'know?"
"Aw, baby, I'm so sorry." Heeseung wasn't the biggest fan of your ex, secretly (not so secretly) elated when the two of you broke up. You didn't share the same sentiments, very clearly heartbroken when Jake dumped you to have sex with other girls. Go figure. "It's natural to be upset."
"I just—" You sucked in a breath. "I want to be over it already, y'know? I'm so sick of being pathetic and still crying about it."
"It was only two months ago. I don't blame you."
"You should. You should be sick of me at this point, crying to you about this. God knows Sunghoon is." You blinked away the tears, slowly coming back down to Earth as you grounded yourself further against Heeseung. "I'm sick of me."
"I could never be sick of you, trust me. Jake doesn't know what he's missing out on. Any sane man would be on his knees for you if you so much as asked."
That earned a laugh out of you, effectively brightening your spirit a tiny bit. You sniffled, resting your forehead against Heeseung's shoulder, sighing as you composed yourself. "Thanks, Hee. I appreciate it. God, why can't more guys be like you? There's too many assholes like Jake and Sunghoon around."
Heeseung chuckled at that. "Hey, Hoon's not that bad."
"He is to me."
"You guys just need to work on getting closer, that's all. Find some shared interest or hobby or something. Anything you might like to do together."
You rolled your eyes a bit. "I don't think there's anything like that that doesn't involve violence."
"He likes you more than you think. He just doesn't realize it yet," Heeseung assured.
You heard a knock from inside the bathroom, Sunghoon's voice calling out. "Heeseung?"
"Speak of the devil," Heeseung grinned. He turned toward the door. "What is it?"
"Can you come in here real quick?"
Both you and Heeseung exchanged puzzled glances.
"Are you guys about to get up to some gay shit?" You whispered quietly. "I mean, it's hot, I guess. Am I supposed to keep watch?"
"Dunno yet. Let me see what he needs," Heeseung said, not even bothering to deny the homosexual allegations as he stepped inside the bathroom. Sunghoon was turned away from Heeseung, looking down and fidgeting with something. "Everything ok man?"
"Yes— I mean no— I mean... shit." Sunghoon turned around, letting Heeseung see his situation. Unfortunately for him, the zipper of his pants had gotten stuck onto his boxers and was refusing to budge. "It's stuck," Sunghoon stated the obvious. "I've been trying to get it loose for like, five minutes now."
"Whoo boy, let's see what we're dealing with." Heeseung gave the zipper an experimental tug upwards. Sunghoon wasn't used to having Heeseung's hands so close to his genitalia, but he supposed it was a testimony to how close they were.
Sunghoon leaned against the sink, ears tinged pink with embarrassment as Heeseung yanked at the zipper with reasonable force.
"Hey, watch it man! I don't need you zipping up my balls, too," Sunghoon freaked.
"Relax, it's not— Jesus Christ, this thing really isn't budging," Heeseung hissed, hands starting to become sweaty with his efforts.
Sunghoon's eyes widened. He buried his face in his hands, feeling how hot his cheeks were already getting "Fuck. Fuck, man, what am I gonna do? I can't go out there with my fly like this!"
"I'd be more worried about the fact you spent, like, 500 bucks on these pants." If Heeseung used too much force on this he was at risk of breaking it beyond repair, and he really couldn't afford repairs for Prada the way Sunghoon could.
"Dude, I literally want to die right now." Sunghoon prayed everybody would be drunker than he was, at least enough where he could make a speedy exit without anyone noticing his problem.
"Wait!" Heeseung's head shot up, as though a brilliant idea came to him. "I know someone who's great with zippers!"
Sunghoon's thick brows furrowed, and all he could think about was lightning somehow shooting into the house and striking him down mercifully. "What? Wait—"
"Y/N! Get in here, we need your help!" Heeseung swung open the bathroom door, dragging you inside without preamble or Sunghoon's approval.
You grumbled, eyes narrowed with confusion. "Do I need to aim for you guys or...?"
"No! Hoon's got a bit of a..." Heeseung's eyes flicked down towards his friend's crotch. "...situation."
Your eyebrows jumped this time. "He has a boner?"
"No!" Now it was Sunghoon's turn to interject. He felt like he could die of embarrassment then and there, having to humiliate himself in front of you of all people. "My zipper is stuck."
"Aw, guess that Prada label doesn't guarantee quality after all, does it?" You jutted your lip out in a fake pout, taking your opportunity to jab at him. You were still suffering from the sting of seeing your ex, and Sunghoon was the best target you could ask for tonight. This was just too perfect.
"Hey, be nice," Heeseung scolded. "Will you help?"
"Maybe..." You tapped your cup against your chin, pondering. "If he begs."
"What?!" Sunghoon was shocked by your sheer audacity.
You shrugged, fighting (and failing) to keep the corner of your mouth from quirking up into a smirk. "If you want me to help, you have to say please. It's only polite."
"Oh my god, you're such a bitch—"
"That's not very nice."
"Nice? I can—"
"Guys, stop!" Heeseung interrupted the both of your squabbling, not wanting to be cramped in a bathroom with the two of you shouting in his ear. "Just say please, Hoon."
Sunghoon's eyes practically bulged out of his sockets when he heard Heeseung taking your side. You stuck your tongue out at him like a child, triumphant.
He gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw as he muttered the words. "Will you please help me with my zipper? Please?"
You looked so cheeky and smug, putting your cup down on the sink. Sunghoon suddenly had the urge to bite you. "Well, since you sound so pathetic."
You reached for the zipper, and Sunghoon hissed to resist the urge of slapping your hands away out of annoyance. "I'm gonna get you back for this, I swear..."
"That's not how you say thank you to a favor, Hoonie," you teased, your fingers twiddling with the metal as you tried to yank it up.
"We both know you aren't doing this as a favor." Fuck, you were so close to him. He could smell both the perfume you wore and the alcohol you drank. Now he had to worry about the friction your jerky little tugs were causing.
"Aw, look at you guys getting along," Heeseung smiled, reaching up to pat your head. "I told ya, you just needed to bond a little."
"We are not bonding— ow!" You tried to turn your head to face him, but something caught in your hair. You tried to move again, only realizing that Heeseung's fancy watch was now tangled in it.
"Sorry!" Heeseung apologized, trying to move his hand back but tugging your head along with it, making you howl. "Oh, sorry again!"
"Stop moving!" You reached one hand back to reach for his wrist, trying to pull a few strands away to get loose.
"Can you get lower? It's hard for me to untangle myself at this angle."
"Fuck!" The hand still on Sunghoon's zipper yanked on it in frustration, the tug doing nothing to free it.
"My hand's getting tired up here, it'll be quicker!" Heeseung whined petulantly.
You rolled your eyes and reluctantly sank onto your knees, the cold tile biting against your skin. You were now staring up at Sunghoon, who found the view a lot hotter than he cared to admit.
But he did say he was going to get back at you.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Look at you. Can't believe you're on your knees in a bathroom for me."
You scowled. "It's not for you."
"Right. You're on a dirty bathroom floor for me and Heeseung." Sunghoon snickered at your glare, soaking in your scowl.
You reached up for his zipper with both hands, tugging it back down in another attempt, your other hand gripping onto fabric to pull it out. "You really shouldn't piss off the one with a zipper to your balls."
"That's if you can do your job correctly down there."
"Oh, you can fuck right off— Oh fuck, Hee!" Your head jerked back again slightly, and your eyes scrunched as you winced in pain.
"Sorry!" Heeseung apologized again, patting your head with the unadorned hand. "It's almost out, just a little longer."
"Fuck!" You gripped onto Sunghoon's pants tighter, pulling him closer to you as you jerked the zipper more, feeling some leeway.
Sunghoon grappled onto the sink counter, trying not to fall against you or get hard, his footing unsteady as you tugged his pants closer to your face. If he wasn't careful you were going to end up with his dick print against your cheek. The sound of your little whine made popping a boner nearly impossible. It was difficult too with the sight of you frustrated and on your knees between the two of them, tiny hands scrambling with his zipper, and his mind was going to places they really shouldn't.
Your hand was moving the zipper up and down, desperately trying to get it loose, the tiny bit of fabric bunched beneath slowly giving way. You fisted at the fabric next to it, trying to pull it in the opposite direction so it would give.
"Fuck, I think I'm close," you muttered quietly to yourself, not even realizing how you sounded.
Fuck. Fuck Sunghoon needed to get his zipper fixed now because any second now he was going to get obviously hard, and there'd be absolutely no way of hiding it from you or Heeseung.
"I-I think I might—"
"Shut up, I'm almost there!" Of course you'd be fucking stubborn when you put your mind to something.
"Me too!" His best friend innocently commented, eyes glued on his watch. Heeseung seemed oblivious to Sunghoon's panic, just as focused as you when it came to the task at hand.
You tugged one more time, the slide finally becoming easier and the zipper making its way successfully to the very bottom, no fabric stuck. "Finally!"
Heeseung managed to free his watch with your hair still intact, though it was a mess from the tangles and pulling from prior. "Yes!" He rolled his wrist with satisfaction, his other, unadorned hand now combing through your mess of hair in attempt to smoothe it. "See, that wasn't too bad."
Sunghoon felt entirely too suffocated, and for the first time in his life he was desperately wanting a woman off her knees. "For you," he huffed, feeling hotter by the minute.
It was just then that the bathroom door, which you neglected to lock behind you, swung open.
The three of you must've been a sight: your hands up near Sunghoon's crotch while you were on your knees, Sunghoon's pants unzipped, your hair a tangled mess and makeup slightly smudged from crying. Sunghoon and Heeseung were also incriminating, both sweating a little from their frustration, breathing heavy from their intense focus on very different missions.
Heeseung looked like a deer in headlights as he turned back toward the people in the doorway, the appearance of the situation seemingly dawning on him.
"Um... I know this is super cliché but... this isn't what it looks like."
—
So everybody thinks you had a threesome in the bathroom with the two hottest guys on campus.
That's just great.
It's not like anyone's dick was even out or anything. Sure, you could see how it'd look like you guys were about to have a threesome, but that's a huge difference! Instead, you were getting bombarded left and right with people you've never even met, asking you what happened, what they were like, who was better, who was bigger. They heard some of the things that were being said, you couldn't fool them. The dialogue alone was incriminating. When you told them the truth they never believed you, some giving you a cheeky smile saying, Fine, keep your secrets.
You were starting to think you might as well have with how many people were convinced.
The mere idea of it was crazy. You, having a threesome with your best friend... and his best friend. Who you hated.
Still, your mind kept drifting back to the image of him looking down at you, so pissed, so on edge. You were lucky he seemed so panicked about the zipper that he didn't notice you pressing your thighs together.
You were a horny drunk, you could admit that much. You just didn't imagine you'd be getting horny for Sunghoon of all people.
Or Heeseung.
You thought of the way Hee's fingers carded through your hair, the assuring pat on your head and the way he cradled your face when you were crying. You thought about how he looked from above as well that night, brows furrowed in concentration, biting down on his lip.
Fuck. You can't be thinking of this. It was just a drunken misunderstanding.
You need to stop thinking about fucking your best friend and his best friend. End of story.
There was no way that was ever happening. Sunghoon hated your guts the same way you hated his, and Heeseung was always oblivious to everything.
You just had to pretend that none of it was bothering you.
That's why you were loud as hell as you barged your way into Heeseung's apartment, holding your copy of his key between your fingers.
"Hee! I'm here!" you called, just in case Sunghoon was inside and you were unwittingly put into a trap with him. You stumbled your way into the living room, where Heeseung sat on his huge ass sofa, solo. "No Hoon today?"
"Nah, he's not going to be out of class for another hour at least. I'm all yours 'til then." He was so cocky with it, crossing his fingers behind his head and leaning back, giving a mischievous grin.
"Lucky me," you chuckled, kicking off your shoes to join him.
With an early start to wine and enough time to get you tipsy, your conversation with Heeseung had delved into the topic no one, you especially now, could take off their minds: threesomes.
At first it started with the two of you laughing over how ridiculous the rumor spreading about the three of you was.
"So, I'm guessing you heard the rumors too?"
"Which one? The one about the dean having the same dealer as us, or the one that Sigma Ki has a cuck hazing ritual?"
You lightly shoved at your friend, rolling your eyes. "You know the one."
Heeseung laughed at your annoyance, positively beaming. "Oh, you mean the one about you, me, and Hoon fucking each other in the bathroom? I may have heard about it."
How crazy that'd be. How stupid everyone was for automatically believing it. Then it continued, getting a bit deeper. You were currently ranting about how the concept of it in the general public, and what was deemed as more "acceptable" was two girls with one guy. It had only become a recent phenomenon of a girl getting to have two guys at the same time, the riskiest it was willing to go before still forcing her to choose one of the two. Meanwhile men's fantasies included harems and two women and expectations for girls that had been ingrained in the misogynistic society you were subjected to today.
"I mean, let's be soooo for real," you droned, the alcohol in your system making you bolder with your opinions. "Threesomes with two guys and one girl don't happen in real life. It's just a porn fantasy, and not one that gets delivered enough anyways because visual porn is much more catered to the male gaze. God forbid a woman's the center of attention."
"I'm sure those threesomes happen more often than you think, you know."
"Think about all the threesomes you know of, with real people you know, and measure out how many of those were two girls and how many were two guys. Those specific pairings. Go."
Heeseung pondered for a moment, giving it some thought. "So it's a bit... imbalanced."
"Guys have it so easy!" You whined, sinking into the couch cushions, crossing your arms with a huff. "Girls are constantly expected to be gay with their girl friends. If a girl isn't down to have a threesome with another girl, she's seen as boring. That's why so many of those Tinder couples are looking for a girl. And it's all catered towards the guy. Hell, if I were with another naked chick, the guy definitely wouldn't be getting all the attention. It's like rowboating with a heavy ass robot in the middle. Sure, hypothetically you can get the job done, but overall it'd just be best if the useless piece of junk were out of the picture."
Heeseung cackled at your comment, shaking his head. "You have the strangest way of describing things."
"I'm pretty sure I heard it from some comedian." You waved aside the thought. "Meanwhile, if you ask a guy to have a threesome with his bestie, he'd look at you like you have two heads! It only exists in porn, not real life," you rambled on.
"I'm still sure it happens in real life more often than you'd think."
"No, I doubt that. That's why it's so silly that everyone's so gullible. Guys are always going on about how it'd be gay to have a threesome with another man, but it's just as hot for the girl as it is for the guy in the switched scenarios," you pointed out. "Why else would girls be reading yaoi or reading gay fanfiction when they themselves are not gay men? Get turned on when they kiss?"
"I don't know. Some guys aren't as insecure in their masculinity as you think."
"Oh yeah? Like who?"
"Me."
You scoffed. "You? Yeah right."
"I don't think I'd mind," he shrugged, as though it were the most casual thing in the world.
"Oh really? So if a woman asked if you and your best friend— if you and Sunghoon, were down to fuck her, you'd do it?" Surely Heeseung was just blowing smoke out of his ass. Your sweet Hee? No way. The mere concept of him and Sunghoon actually sharing a girl was enough to give anyone a nosebleed. Like Sunghoon would be capable of sharing in general.
Heeseung stared at the ceiling, as though thinking about it. "Depends on the woman."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I wouldn't sleep with just any woman, first of all, my best friend included or not."
"Fair point." You thought about it for a moment. "Imagine, like, the hottest girl you've ever seen, then. You'd be down to fuck her no matter what."
Heeseung looked at you with a half-lidded gaze, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek. "Is she as hot as you?"
You rolled your eyes at his typical sleazy compliments, brushing it off with ease. He sometimes unintentionally flirted with you like this, riled you up, reminded you of what you couldn't have. At least, definitely not with Sunghoon in the way. It was always innocent banter, some light teasing, like he doesn't know what it does to you. You wonder if he was truly oblivious or if he was just really good at pretending as a way to watch you squirm. "I forget, this whole thing's easy to you. You forget the rest of us plebeians have trouble even getting one person to want us, let alone two. You could probably pick three for one night, easy." You ruffled his hair, pushing his head to the side. "Not all of us look like we could be on the cover of Vogue, you know."
Heeseung pulled you in closer, arm looping around your waist until your thighs were pressing against one another's. "You're hot and you know it."
"Yeah, but I'm not on like, you or Sunghoon's level," you snorted. Hate Sunghoon all you want, you couldn't deny the man creeped into the edges of your mind when you were getting off to the thought of his doe-eyed best friend. How you got to know two such gorgeous men, even in this sense, was beyond you.
"You're prettier than both of us. Sunghoon would agree." Heeseung leaned in and nosed your neck affectionately, and half of you expected Sunghoon to walk in any minute and scold you two for defiling the couch, even though the gesture was surely done with the purest of intentions.
"Doubt that," you chuckled. "I know I'm sorta pretty—"
"Definitely pretty."
"Definitely pretty," you corrected yourself. "But I have no doubt that I get weird stares when the three of us are in public, and people who don't know us wonder how I was able to pull that off."
Heeseung cocked his head to the side, studying your reaction, assessing your words and narrowing his eyes as though he wanted to argue. Slowly, his gaze drifted further down your face, lingering on your lips. "Ask me the question again."
"What question?" You forgot it already.
"Ask if me and my best friend would be down to fuck you."
Immediately your heart jumped. Your cheeks burned at his clarification, and you squirmed in your seat. "I don't think I phrased it like that!" You couldn't help but feel exposed, even though he misread your question entirely.
"It is now." He leaned in closer, invading your space. You instinctively tried to sink further into the couch. Heeseung stopped his face a few inches from yours, arm hooking over the back of the couch behind you, impossible to ignore, waiting on your answer. He nudged at your chin with his fingers to get you to look at him properly, the way his eyes glittered being far too mischevious for your comfort. "Ask it."
You wanted to tell him to fuck off and quit playing with you, but you were also determined to hide how affected you were. This was so unlike him. Typically he was a clueless dolt, adoring, sweet, not this. The last thing you wanted Heeseung to know was how accurately he was now seeing you now. Did he always? Was he just pretending like he didn't know all this time? You didn't want him to see how excited you were getting by some hypoethical question that could never happen for two very big, very handsome reasons.
But this is Heeseung you're talking about. There was a very real possibility he was just bluffing to get a reaction out of you. You were used to him pulling shit out of his ass to make some contrived point.
"Fine." You squared your shoulders, looking Heeseung in the eye. "Would you want to fuck me with Sunghoon?"
There's something that seemed to go dark inside his eyes, his face serious. "Yes."
You couldn't prevent the immediate small exhale of your nose, shaking your head and breaking eye contact. "You're so full of shit. Anything to prove your point and win an argument, huh?" He was exactly the same back in debate, go figure.
You were about to push him aside when you felt a hand on your knee. You stared up at him in surprise, his face still deadly serious.
"I mean it."
His thumb did a small brush against the side of your leg, and it was enough to make your knee jump beneath his palm. Your heartbeat raced, and you're suddenly left shy, as though this weren't your best friend Heeseung.
"I... That still doesn't prove my point!" Your brain was now melting away, and you're scrambling for whatever solid parts were left to form words. Heeseung was saying he wanted to fuck you. With Sunghoon. What kind of sick joke was the universe playing with you? "The likelihood of one guy agreeing to that in the first place is super low, much less two."
"Sunghoon would say yes, too."
You looked at Heeseung as though he were crazy. "Are we talking about the same Sunghoon?"
"Yes."
"Bullshit." You couldn't help but relax a little, reminding yourself of the impossibility, especially where Sunghoon was involved. "He hates me."
"He doesn't hate you," Heeseung insisted.
"He does, too." Your confidence was slowly returning, and for a moment you pay no mind to Heeseung's hand on your knee, your mind now tuning back into debate-mode. "And I know for a fact he'd think you're crazy for even asking and say no."
"He wouldn't. I saw how he was looking at you in the bathroom."
You swore your heart stopped then and there. "You're bluffing."
Heeseung grinned, and you could practically see the devil horns starting to grow. Perhaps the angel act really was a disguise. "Wanna bet?"
"What on?"
His smile deepened. "If he says no, we forget this whole thing happened. Hell, I'll take you out to that trendy little coffee place you love so much. You win."
The unasked questioned stands in the air before you take the plunge. "And if I lose?"
His eyes flicker down to your lips for just a moment, barely long enough for you to catch. "Guess."
You sucked in a breath at that. The thing about Heeseung was that he could never truly be trusted for when he was bluffing and making shit up or when he was saying fact. It was one of those things that made beating him in the moment, with all his deceit and bravado, even more special.
So that's why you found the courage to say: "Call him."
Heeseung didn't even break eye contact with you, whipping out his phone from his back pocket and ringing up Sunghoon, turning it on speaker so it was loud enough for both of you to hear.
When the first dial rang you started to have second thoughts.
When the second dial rang you started to think about how Sunghoon would believe you were a total freak for wanting this, for wanting to be shared by Heeseung and him of all people, and you'd be ready to die on the spot when you next saw him.
When the third dial rang, you started to believe you were being overdramatic, and that it'd go to voicemail and you and Heeseung could have a big laugh and forget the whole thing ever happened. Maybe make it an inside joke between the two of you. What if he had picked up?
And then he picked up.
You were ready to scream when his deep voice came out of the speaker. "Yo."
"Yo, man, what you up to?" Heeseung sounded so casual, and he only smiled when he saw your look of worry and shock as you mouthed at him to hang up.
Heeseung was so close to you that you could hear everything on Sunghoon's end without the phone even being on speaker. "Just got out of class. What's up?"
"Wanted to know if you're free to come over."
"Sure dude. What're you wanting to do?"
Heeseung's eyes locked with yours, his mouth twitching into a smirk. "Y/N."
There's a moment of silence on the line, and you wondered for a moment if Sunghoon hung up at the mere mention of your name.
Finally, he spoke.
"Tonight?" He didn't ask any further questions about what Heeseung means by that. He didn't sound shocked, only mildly curious. Amused. Not even repulsed the way you were anticipating.
"More like now." Heeseung was clearly loving watching you squirm, seeing you panic at the audacity he had to go through with the stupid bet. "How soon can you get here?"
He said it. He actually said it.
There's some noise on the receiver, but Sunghoon sounded calm. "She asked for this?"
"Directly," Heeseung confirmed. "Explicitly, in fact."
Your cheeks burned further with humiliation. There was silence again. "Is she there?"
Heeseung held out the phone, turning down the volume a bit, tilting his head as though with mock pity. Now whatever answer Sunghoon had to give would be right against your ear. "He wants to talk to you."
Your mouth is suddenly dry as he passed you the phone, and you licked your lips as though that'll do any good. "I'm— I'm here."
"Did you really ask for me and Heeseung to fuck you?"
The words almost felt like a caress in your ear, but you're sure you're mistaking a disgusted scowl as a purr of lust. Your mind clearly couldn't be trusted tonight.
You looked back at Heeseung, still close enough for him to pick up on what's being said. You realized you have a chance to deny it all, pretend it was a joke gone too far, a prank. Heeseung would be true to his word, pretend it never happened.
And then your mind raced with everything that could happen.
God, this could be such a bad idea...
"I did."
There was a pause on Sunghoon's end, and it felt as though everyone in the room was soaking in your small confession, like you were in a booth with a priest at church all over again.
"I'll be there in 30."
Sunghoon hung up, the line going dead.
Your head felt as though it were filled with static, absorbing what had just happened.
Heeseung, however, wasted no time, immediately throwing his phone away and focusing all of his attention on you.
You could barely wrap your head around the situation, still trying to comprehend multiple facts at once. Heeseung wanted to fuck you. Sunghoon wanted to fuck you. Heeseung and Sunghoon were both going to fuck you. Now. At the same time.
You rapidly blinked, not even noticing the fact that Heeseung was drawing in closer, crowding your space more than ever.
"Is this—ha, I mean, well— is this for real? This can't be real." You absentmindedly shook your head, as though trying to wake yourself up from a dream.
"It's real." Heeseung's eyes were intense, staring at you in a whole new light now, one you couldn't help but tremble under. "It's happening."
"But— This can't—"
"Yes, it can."
"No, you're just fucking with me with another one of your silly pranks. Was this planned?" You laughed, knowing the idea would be so Heeseung. If they were secretly recording this there's no doubt the look on your face is priceless. You'd kill him if he posted it. "Funny. Fun one. You got me."
"Y/N." He grabbed your wrists, pulling you in so your chest was against his, staring you in the eye. "Sunghoon's going to be here in half an hour."
You stilled in his hold, gulping at his words as you slowly comprehended the truth of them.
"So you're all mine until he gets here."
That made your heart stop.
You were barely able to make out words.
"I... you don't..."
"I do." Heeseung emphasized. "Do you?"
Your mind felt as though it fully shut down, the only thought in your brain being how Heeseung's lips are closer than ever. "What?"
Heeseung didn't get impatient with you, instead being very understanding of the fact that he already turned you brainless without even really touching you. He moved a centimeter closer, his lips barely brushing against yours, like the particles that made up both of you were just passing by. "Do you want this?"
Your mind was in static mode again as Heeseung pulled one of your hands up to his chest, letting you feel his heartbeat against your palm.
"You want me and Hoonie?" Heeseung questioned further, clarifying. "I think we both made it very clear we want you."
Never in your life had you guessed your best friend would say that. You slowly came to terms that this very much wasn't a dream, and that Heeseung was actually saying this to you. "You want me?"
"I'll want you any way I can have you," Heeseung emphasized, a soft smile on his face. "Even with Hoon."
"I... I can't believe you'd both..."
"Hoon understands," he said, moving his lips closer to your pulse point below your ear. "He's wanted this longer than you'd think." His breath tickled your neck, and you shivered. "I'm more curious about how long you've wanted this."
You shuddered and found yourself pulling him closer, wanting to feel more than just his lips lightly brushing against you, teasing you when Sunghoon could be here in less than half an hour. How long had he known? Had he always been observant, and you just projected some oblivious facade onto him?
"You mean longer than the bathroom?"
Heeseung's gaze drifted down to your lips. "Did you?"
"I... maybe." You wanted to be flirtier, more enticing, but you were still somewhat in shock due to recent revelations. You were too stunned to even try to act sexy right now. "I feel like I'm suddenly discovering new things about you."
"There's a lot of things you're about to figure out. Just ask."
"How is it you know what I want?"
"Because, I know exactly how you feel about me," he purred in your ear, moving a lock of hair behind it. You held your breath when you felt the tip of his nose along your neck, so close, raising goosebumps. "I always have..." He dipped his head lower, pressing a small, soft kiss at the center of your neck. "I know how you feel about Sunghoon, too."
You knew there was no way he could miss the way you gulped at that.
"Constantly fighting with him, building up so much frustration... you wanna know he'd take it out on you, don't you?" He pressed his lips again at the base of your throat, sucking softly, whispering the dirty secret into your skin. "Wanna know how I'd tell him to do it?"
"Fuck." You couldn't deny the wave of heat that flooded to your core with his words.
He chuckled, watching you fight back against the urge of curling in on yourself with how aroused you were. His hands gripped your waist tighter as he slowly got off the couch to move in front of you, lips ghosting over the center of your ribcage as he traveled down your body. "Want me to show you?"
"Where's all t-this coming from?" You breathlessly smiled, still trying to grasp the fact that this was all real, and not a serious maladaptive daydreaming episode. Heeseung was always so sweet, so respectful. How were you supposed to predict this side of him?
"From you telling me you want my best friend and I to fuck you," he hissed, giving a small nip now just to have you feel the sting of his teeth on your skin instead.
"You m-made me say it!"
"Yeah? I'll make you beg for it too." He rose up to your face, brushing your hair out of the way so he could look into your eyes properly. "Tell me what you want, pretty girl."
His hand slid up to your neck, not tight, but present, like he wanted to measure your heartbeat himself to make sure you wouldn't lie to him.
You licked your lips, trying to swallow down your doubts of courage. The feeling of being so vulnerable to him in this context was baffling.
"I want for both you and Sunghoon to fuck me. Happy?" You managed to spit out the words, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Heeseung let out a wicked grin, whistling at your attitude. "Oh? Talk back, don't we? Yeah, Hoonie will fucking love you."
He finally pressed his lips against yours, hand sliding up to the base of your head , fingers tangling into your roots and keeping you locked in place as he devoured you, making sure your head wouldn't hurt from being pressed against the back of the couch. He wasn't tender or sweet, the way you probably would've predicted and fantasized about when you first met him, and the small budding crush you had on his cute features hadn't warped into something darker, more lustful. No, he was sure of his movements, kissing you with purpose, actions deliberate as he moved with noticeable skill that could only come from practice. His tongue slid against yours with an ease that made your knees weak.
Heeseung was infuriatingly good at kissing you. You supposed it was to be expected, with how much action he probably saw, face like that and all, but still. He had this way of kissing you that made the rest of the world disappear, with only his hands on your face and his lips on yours to ground you.
You eyes were fluttering shut, and soon you were both moving in tandem, finding a tune that only you two knew. The soft sounds of his lips smacking against yours filled the room, and the grip he had on your roots, pulling your hair properly this time, was driving you crazy.
"Please," you gasped the word into his mouth. He groaned and kissed you some more, his hand tightening as he pressed you further against him. You gripped onto his shirt, the taste of him so irresistible you forgot completely that he was your best friend, and you shouldn't be doing what you're about to with his best friend too.
You subconsciously spread your legs, drawing Heeseung in so you could grind your core against his.
He chuckled into your mouth, one hand moving down to your hip to pin you down and deny you. "Needy little thing, aren't you? We're just getting started. Let me take my time with you."
You wanted to scream at him that you two didn't exactly have time, but found your brain back to mush the moment he began kissing you again, lowering his hips to yours to slowly press his heat against you. His hand stayed on your hip, halting movement from you so that he could control the gradual pace, teasing and torturous as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. It felt so good to be pinned beneath him already, in his arms, like you two were made to fit together.
You moaned against his lips when the fabric of his jeans hit your clit in a particularly delicious fashion. He growled in response, hand cupping your chin better to angle your face a little more to the side, deepening the kiss as he slid his tongue in, letting it coax your lips along with his. He licked his way into your mouth, greedily swallowing more of your moans as the hand on your hip drifted down to your thigh, hitching it over his own hip to grind more securely against you.
He rolled his hips, pressing you further against the couch as you felt him get harder against you, his hand tightening against your thigh as he tried to pull you impossibly closer to him.
"So fucking good," he rasped against your lips, mind spinning at all the soft, weak little sounds that escaped you. "Can't believe I finally get to have you like this."
You kissed him harder, hands pressed against his face, wanting to memorize the feeling of his cheekbones against your fingertips. You gripped onto his hair, his shirt, anywhere you could reach, try to rock back against his hips and fully feel the bulge pressed against your pussy.
"Fuck, Heeseung..."
"Mmf, say that again." He bit your lip before pulling back.
He pressed up at an angle that hit the sweet spot against your clit, and you had no choice but to obey. "Heeseung!"
"Shit, you sound so whiny." He buried his head into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into the skin just to hear another pathetic sound leave your mouth. He sucked hard, and you knew it'd leave a mark. "Hoon's gonna lose his mind," he groaned into you.
You threw your head back, your hips quickening against him. "Hee, please, do something."
He snarled at your impatience, nipping at your neck again in punishment before smacking your thigh. "Be patient," he grit, blunt nails raking over where he slapped you. "You're mine right now, remember?"
You nodded, a shiver running up your spine as his fingers trailed further down your leg before going back up higher and higher, ghosting over the fabric of your underwear.
His thumb brushed over the lace of your panties, and he bit his lip in anticipation. "Shit, I don't think you even know what's coming."
You canted your hips to receive more of his touch. "M-Meaning?"
"Meaning I need to start getting you ready for when Hoon arrives," Hee said. He pulled on the waistband, dragging them down your legs and discarding them to the floor. "I need to make sure you're wet enough for both of us."
Hearing your best friend talk so dirty was enough to send your mind into a tizzy. You grabbed his hand and pressed him right against your sex, eager to not waste time and see how much he can offer you in twenty minutes. Heeseung took the hint, fingers sliding up and down, getting a feel for the glide and slick you've already produced.
"Shit, you're so wet already," Heeseung said in awe, lips parted as he admired the shine on his fingers from you. "Are you excited?"
"O-Obviously." You were barely able to contain the whine when he slides a digit inside, curling it up to search for your g-spot. "It's not every day a girl gets propositioned by a hot guy, let alone two."
He quirked a brow. "Oh? You think we're hot?"
Your cheeks shouldn't burn this much from stating the obvious. "I mean... you're not bad to look at. Don't let it get to your head."
Heeseung's grin only widened. "And Sunghoon?"
You glanced away, squirming a bit as you felt him find the sweet spot inside of you. "He's f-fine I guess."
"Look at you, getting so flustered," Heeseung cooed, bending down to peck at the flush in your cheeks. "You can admit you want him, baby. It's ok."
Hearing your best friend call you "baby" in this context was something else entirely. Before it always felt so casual, something you couldn't read into. Now he was saying it like you were his. Suddenly your hips were bucking against his hand more, your body beginning to take control of your mind.
He was speeding up, and your mind was steadily beginning to melt. "I-I—"
You felt more pressure build up as Heeseung slid in another finger, the wet squelching sounds of your pussy starting to get louder.
"You can tell him when he gets here," Heeseung whispered against your lips, wanting a front row seat to all of your pathetic whimpers and moans while they were still just for him. "He'll be thrilled."
Another whine escaped your lips from Heeseung's ministrations.
"Fuck, why are you so good at this?" You muttered half to yourself, in disbelief that Heeseung was already making you feel better within five minutes than your ex did in five months.
He sucked against your neck, purposefully marking you, humming against the skin as he sloppily thrust his fingers inside. "Mm, you're just easy to ruin. You can't even hide how turned on you are."
You felt heat pool down into your abdomen, your tells showing. "Hee, I'm getting close."
To your dismay he pulled his fingers out of you, giving the side of your neck sweet kisses in apology. "Not yet. You'll need to wait."
He swallowed your whine of frustration, cradling your face in his hands and kissing you, the glide of his tongue against yours somewhat distracting you from the ache left between your legs. His kiss was wet, using just enough tongue for it to feel filthy, making sure you memorized the way he tasted.
Once your orgasm had surely died down he kissed his way down your jaw and your chest, getting on his knees, face all the way down to your now neglected pussy. He sighed with content when he saw how needy and wound up you already were, your body begging him to break it in properly. He couldn't help himself, giving your sex a sweet kiss as well, mouth trapping your clit and giving it the attention it was so desperate for.
Your back arched off the couch as Heeseung began eating you out, the wet muscle traveling between your folds and lapping at all you had to offer, his jaw widening so he could feel more of you. He moaned, and the vibrations made you buck against his mouth. He pinned you down firmly, throwing an arm over your hips, sucking on your clit reverently. Burying your hand in his hair, you let yourself get lost in the pleasure, his tongue dragging along you.
You looked down at him, his lashes long, kissing the apples of his cheeks as he focused on your taste, your breathy whimpers, the way your thighs twitched next to his head when he focused his tongue on the spot right beneath your clit.
"Fu-uck," you moaned, your nails scratching against his scalp as he got you close to the edge again. "Feels so good, Hee."
He moaned into you again in response, making you dig your heels into his back.
Pleasure pooled down to your abdomen, and you felt your abs begin to tighten. Before you could even think about hiding your orgasm from Heeseung, he's pulling away, making you shiver with the cold air against your hitting your bare cunt.
"No!" You whined, losing your grip on his hair as he rose up, rubbing your thighs in apology as he planted his lips to yours, replacing your complaints with the taste of yourself. His hand came up to your throat, not tight, but enough pressure for you to want to lean into it.
Heeseung didn't stop kissing you until your protests died and your muscles relaxed again, and you were just a desperate, breathless mess beneath him.
When he finally let you have air, your eyes were glossy with the second lost orgasm. You slumped over and laid on the couch, panting with tear-brimmed eyes, frustrated beyond belief.
Heeseung gave an apologetic look, like if it were up to him, you'd be cumming your brains out by now.
"Poor baby." He pouted along with you, hand traveling down to gently caress at your folds, spreading them between his fingers and feeling how wet and denied you were. "Bet it hurts so bad, doesn't it?"
You nodded, squirming under his touch, wanting so badly to cum against his fingers.
He didn't give you hope yet, though, sliding his hand up to your lower belly. "It'll feel better soon," he promised, slowly pushing down and applying more pressure. "It'll feel really good once me and Hoon are right here."
You gasped, biting your lip at the thought of them that deep inside you.
As if on cue, the front door opened, revealing a panting Park Sunghoon.
"That couldn't have been thirty minutes," Heeseung laughed, rolling off you as Sunghoon strolled closer to you two, his eyes devouring the sight of you teary eyed, cunt exposed and swollen, ready to be taken. His chest rose and fell as he breathed heavily, nostrils flaring as he stared at you with hooded eyes. The lust was palpable, every muscle in his body appearing tight, tense at seeing you so vulnerable already. Heeseung moved behind you, propping you up so your back was against his chest, adding to Sunghoon's view.
"I may have sped a little," Sunghoon admitted, biting his lower lip. His eyes never left you, as though he were transfixed. "And used the stairs instead of the elevator."
Heeseung squeezed your face, grinning down at you, like he understood Sunghoon's obsession unquestionably. "Hear that baby? You're not the only desperate one."
Your eyes locked with Sunghoon, whose gaze was intense and made it impossible for you to look away.
Sunghoon cautiously raised a hand to your knee, slowly tracing upward as you shivered under his touch. "Has she cum yet?"
"Not yet. I've been edging her. Figured you wouldn't want to miss it." Heeseung moved your hair to the side to kiss your neck, pulling one of your thighs to the side to open you up more for Sunghoon. "She does this cute little whine whenever she's close."
Your cheeks flushed, and your thighs twitched in response. "J-Just hurry up and fucking touch me already."
Sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek, and before you knew it he landed a sharp slap right against your cunt.
"Fuck!" Your back arched, your hips bucking until Sunghoon roughly slammed them back down, planting another smack against your swollen folds.
"Is that how we ask for things?"
"It's how I—fuck!" You couldn't hold back the pornographic moan that tumbled out of your lips as Sunghoon did it again, though this time rubbing your clit after, as though to blur the pain into pleasure.
"Such a mouth on you still." Sunghoon clicked his tongue, as though disappointed. "Heeseung didn't teach you manners while I was on my way?"
"We didn't have much time for our lesson," Heeseung excused, pulling your shirt further up your torso to run his hand over your exposed skin, his touch gentle in contrast to Sunghoon's. "She's still learning."
"How many times did you edge her?" Sunghoon trapped your clit between two of his fingers, applying pressure on the tiny bud to watch you gasp.
"Twice." Heeseung raised the shirt over your tits now, trapping a nipple between his digits similar to Sunghoon.
"Wanna go for a third, princess?" Hoon slapped your cunt again, making you cry out and shake your head, desperate just the way Heeseung described. Still, your reaction every time he strikes your pussy was noticeable.
Sunghoon wasn't going to let you live it down.
"You like when I slap your little pussy don't you? Don't tell me we've got a painslut on our hands."
Your cheeks burned at the term, and your breath caught with embarrassment. Both could see it all over your face that you were getting hot and bothered by how he treated you.
Sunghoon chuckled a bit at that. "Then be a good girl for us, and maybe, just maybe, we'll let you cum."
Your eyes watered even more, but even then, you nodded in agreement, now under the mercy of two men.
Sunghoon smirked, victorious. "Atta girl."
"You should feel how tight she is," Heeseung suggested, giving a reassuring squeeze.
Sunghoon finally sank two fingers into you, making your breath hitch. Sunghoon's gaze darkened, already imagining how your walls would squeeze his cock. "Fuck, what a tight little slut."
Your thighs twitched at the name, and both men took a mental note your reaction to being degraded.
Sunghoon started curling his fingers inside of you, pressing against your g-spot, having the heel of his palm press deep against your clit. He licked his lips, eyes flickering between your pussy and your face, examining your open mouth and your small mewls as he started to work up what Heeseung started, the wet sounds of his digits inside of you filling the room.
"Fuck, you're so fucking wet. Hee must've really worked you up, huh?" Sunghoon purred, sliding in a third digit easily, not missing how your eyes started to roll back as he stretched you out. "Bet you've been dreaming of this since the party."
"S-Shut up," you stammered out. "Says the one who was forming a boner."
"Yeah?" Sunghoon started increasing the power of his thrusts, veins starting to pop out of his forearm as he did so. "Why don't you just shut up and let out more of those pretty moans?"
"Why don't you—"
Your words were cut off by Heeseung pressing his two middle digits against your tongue, rendering you silent.
"Now now, play nice you two," Hee chastised, shaking his head. "I thought my baby agreed to be good, no?"
He slipped his fingers out of your mouth, earning a glare.
"Come here." Heeseung pulled your jaw to face him, kissing you and muffling any insults you had to throw at Sunghoon. His tongue glided against yours, quelling your anger and making you buck up needily against the younger man's hand.
When you broke apart, you weren't even given a second to breathe, Sunghoon's large hand being the one holding your face now, focusing your attention back onto him.
"What? No kiss for Hoonie?" He grinned at your scowl. "Or is Hee's baby too good for it?"
"Give him a kiss, baby," Heeseung encouraged. "Let me watch."
You licked your lips, only allowing for a moment of trepidation before leaning into Sunghoon. His lips met yours readily, hungry as he kissed you, the pace of his fingers quickening with every stroke. He growled when you moaned against his mouth, grinding his palm firmer against your clit in reward. He pressed his mouth against you like he was trying to brand you with his kiss, make you feel it even after he was gone.
He slipped his tongue inside your mouth, demanding, his other hand sliding into the roots at the back of your head, angling your face just how he liked so he could kiss you deeper. He groaned as you whimpered against him, trying to keep up a good fight. He made it look too easy, the effortless way his mouth dominated yours bringing you to shame. He sucked on your tongue a bit, the helpless sound you made in response only making him harder.
When he broke away you were both left staring at one another, gathering breath, analyzing the blown out pupils of one another.
This was Park Sunghoon. The man you were constantly fighting for Heeseung's attention. The one you couldn't spend five minutes with without starting an argument.
You weren't sure which one of you leaned in first, but suddenly you were both slamming your mouths against each other again, but this time hungrier. More desperate. There was a carnal desire in how Sunghoon kissed you now, like he wanted to eat you and make you cry for every bullshit fight you put up against him.
Heeseung was mesmerized, his eyes never leaving you and Sunghoon as you clung onto the younger, trying to bring him closer to you, clawing at his clothes as you expressed your pent up sexual frustration through the kiss. Heeseung's hand slid down between you and Sunghoon's, his digits playing with your clit. You whined against Sunghoon's mouth, your orgasm starting to approach.
You broke away from the kiss, whining just like promised. "Please let me cum this time, please!"
Sunghoon chuckled at how easy you were to break this time, purposefully slamming his fingers against the sweet spot inside of you repeatedly. "Aw, should I? But you were being such a brat earlier."
"Let her cum," Heeseung crooned, sympathizing with you. "She's got a lot ahead of her."
Sunghoon always did have a habit of going along with Heeseung's desires.
But he wasn't going to be nice about it.
"You hear that?" Sunghoon scoffed, grabbing your face and bringing you close to his, his eye contact intense as he studied your pitiful expression. "Congratulations, sweetheart. You get to cum until your brain fucking melts."
You arched against Heeseung as Sunghoon jackhammered his fingers into your cunt, right behind the spot where Heeseung was still toying with your clit. Hee doubled his efforts, pressing down harder, making sure to give attention to the spot right underneath that had your toes curling. Your thighs began to shake as your orgasm overtook you, and suddenly clear liquid was gushing all over both of their fingers.
Sunghoon's jaw dropped open, watching you squirt against both of their hands. He was completely enraptured, mouth dropping open in awe as he watched you shake like a leaf.
"Fuck, that's it, make a mess for me. Make a mess all over Hoonie's fingers," he muttered to himself.
You couldn't stop it, the pleasure coming over you like a tidal wave. You gripped onto both of them to steady yourself, droplets flying out of you as you shook. Neither man stopped, both continuing until you were drained of every last drop, eventually slumping over against Heeseung, the aftershocks of your orgasm riding it's course along your thighs until it was no more.
Both men pulled their hands away, your legs giving residual twitches at the sensation.
"I... I think I ruined the couch.." Your voice had that breathless, cute little whine that made it impossible for anyone to be mad.
Not they would be in the first place.
"You did perfect baby." Heeseung kissed the corner of your mouth. "It's about to get a lot messier anyways."
You were limp and complaint as they both maneuvered you onto all fours, the dark stain forming on the couch mocking from beneath you. Heeseung yanked off his clothes behind you, shedding each article one by one.
The tip of Hee's cock nudged along your entrance, sliding up and down your folds and catching at your clit every time he wanted to watch you cringe from sensitivity. Soon the small shocks would stop, and when you stopped tensing he focused more on your hole, slowly breaching it. It gave way, letting him push inside the first inch.
You held your breath as he started to get the entire tip inside, your walls stretching despite Hoon's thick fingers. Sunghoon cradled your face in his hands, observing your struggle.
"Poor thing. You look like you're about to cry any second."
He leaned in, kissing you when Heeseung got past the tip, now slipping another inch inside you. Hoon's lips were a good distraction, letting you focus on the natural instinct to follow his flow instead of the overwhelming sensation of Heeseung filling you up. Sunghoon slipped a hand down your body, gently twirling his fingers around your clit, coaxing you to let more of Hee in.
"That's it. Let him in. Let him stretch you out so I can have my turn. I'm not allowed to fuck you until after. "
You moaned against his lips. "Mmf— who says?"
You could feel him smile, like you had been let in on a shared secret.
"We made a deal after the party." Heeseung hissed from behind as he sank further into you. "But we had been thinking about it for a while."
You furrowed your brows, trying to form a coherent sentence and not focus on how good Heeseung was stretching you out right now. "W-What deal?"
Heeseung smirked at the expression you wore as he pushed in more, now over halfway inside. "That if we did this..." Both of you let out a strangled noise of pleasure when he bottomed out inside you, his balls now flush against your cunt. "I get first dibs."
Sunghoon laughed, patting your cheek condescendingly. "Bro code."
That's when it dawned on you that you had fallen into Hee's trap, just as he planned. The moment you asked the question, it was game over for you.
Heeseung pulled back some, giving a few experimental, shallow thrusts, letting you get used to the feeling of him. Eventually you stopped tensing up, loosening as you became accustomed to the sensation, your nerves coming alight as he started to go deeper.
"How's that dick feel, baby?" Sunghoon mocked you with the pet name, combing his fingers through your hair in faux comfort, keeping your face angled up so he could drink in every expression you couldn't hide. "Is it just like you've always imagined?"
"Fu-uck you." Your jab lacked it's usual venom, instead becoming breathy at the end as Heeseung hit a sweet spot.
"Ask nicely," Sunghoon bit back.
You were about to respond when Heeseung's hand jotted out in front of you, grabbing Sunghoon by the nape and pressing his mouth against yours, forcing the two of you to kiss to stop your bickering.
"Behave, both of you," Heeseung scolded, gritting it out as he started using longer strokes, letting you feel how long and deep he was every time he pulled out to the tip to thrust back in to the hilt.
Sunghoon seemed to melt against your mouth, not even arguing with Heeseung as he moved his lips against yours. Every moan that escaped your mouth and into his he took greedily, tilting his head to the right to kiss you thoroughly as each of Heeseung's thrusts pressed you closer together.
Heeseung really was such a good mediator.
You broke away for a breath of air, glaring at Sunghoon and his swollen, pouty lips. He glared back, though it seemed to be because you pulled away when he didn't get his fill of kissing you.
"I still hate you," you said, though the words have no bite. Not when each one comes out breathless and weak along with Heeseung's strokes. Not when you give Sunghoon that stare that lets him know that even if you did hate him, you wanted him in equal measure.
"C'mere. You don't need to talk anymore." Sunghoon grabbed your face, making you arch your back further as he started kissing you again, unashamed with the wet, sloppy sounds of your lips smacking together or the low growls that emanated from his chest.
You two stayed making out for a moment, your lips repeatedly crashing against his as Heeseung rocked you back and forth on his cock. Neither of you seemed to mind, though, both breathless and panting into each other's mouths in a mess of tongue and teeth, and you desperately grasped onto Hoon for stability. Hoon sucked on your tongue, moaning when he felt you melt in his arms.
He finally let you go, pulling off his shirt, hands moving to his pants and pulling his flushed, aching cock out with little finesse. He's about the same size as Heeseung, and your jaw already began to ache as you examined the challenging girth.
Sunghoon tapped the tip of his cock against your pouty lips. "C'mon, open that bratty mouth. There's a good girl."
You gave a gentle kiss to the head, and then another, opening your mouth more with each one as you started using your tongue, slowly making out with it the way you would either of them. You closed your eyes, suckling on it a bit, the same way he did on the tip of your tongue earlier.
Sunghoon seemed to be enamored with the sight, jaw dropping open as you slowly progressed to kitten licks, peering up with them with the faux innocent look that only got him harder.
He muttered under his breath, curling his fingers into the roots of your hair and slowly pressing you down further.
You complied as he pushed your head down, opening your mouth greater as the full head was suctioned by your lips.
Sunghoon hissed when you flicked your tongue on the underside of his cock where the head met the shaft, and he slowly sank you down further, the gradual slide of your throat down on him making his toes curl.
Sunghoon tossed his head back, feeling your throat suction around him as he start to fuck it properly. "Oh shit. Don't stop, just like that baby. Fuck, you're so good at this. Your mouth feels so fucking good."
He was decent enough to give a slow pace, following along with Heeseung who did the same in order for you to get used to being filled from both ends. Sunghoon did his best not to buck into your mouth or push too far into the back of your throat. It started to get harder when Heeseung started fucking you faster, though, your body naturally being pushed forward again and again, making you gag further and further down Sunghoon's cock until his eyes were rolling to the back of his throat.
"Holy shit," Heeseung moaned, slapping your ass thrice in quick succession. "My baby's being such a good whore for us, isn't she? Fuck, yes, take it. Suck that dick baby, c'mon."
Fuck, hearing Hee of all people start moaning that you're a whore was spurring Sunghoon on. Slowly his concerns and restraint of getting you used to two cocks melted away. You seemed to be a natural already, and Hoon was always the type to tease and bully what he was secretly fond of. Heeseung was well aware. How else do you break in a toy?
"Look at me. You want both of us? You want to be a greedy little slut for one night?" Sunghoon moaned, hand cradling your throat to feel how he moved inside of it. "'Course you do."
Heeseung slapped your ass again, your yelp muffled around Sunghoon's cock. Heeseung's hooded gaze stayed glued on how your ass would ripple against his hips with every snap. Every time he looked up he'd see Sunghoon's bottom lip trapped between his teeth, the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, the way his eyes never left your face as he tangled his digits into roots.
His grip tightened on your hair as he bobbed your head up and down, Heeseung's thrusts pushing you further down on both of them from either end.
"Fuck, you're both so fucking hot," Heeseung growled. "Such a good slut, taking our cocks like this. You're such a good girl."
Sunghoon grinned, looking down at your pathetic form, forced to take everything they had to offer. Your face was so flushed, your eyes trying to look up at Sunghoon's without rolling back. When he looked up at his best friend he saw his his hands digging into your waist to pull you closer, how his dark stare devoured the view, how his eyes kept meeting Sunghoon's to see if he was also losing his mind. He was. "How does his dick feel? Is he hitting the spot you need?"
You moaned in response, unable to give a clearer answer due to how thoroughly he was using your mouth.
Sunghoon pulled you off for a moment, letting you moan out loud now in tune with Heeseung's thrusts. He tightened the fist in your roots, angling your head to look up at his cocky grin from above.
"You want me to hit it too?"
You bit your lower lip and grinned in confirmation, finally smiling along with him for once. It melted away though into a face of pleasure as Heeseung's hand came around to your front, toying with your clit as his staccato thrusts picked up rhythm.
"Fuck, I'm fucking close," he moaned. "Need to feel you cum around me. Need to feel everything. Need—"
Heeseung's words were cut off by Sunghoon's free hand grabbing his nape and pulling him in, slamming their lips above you. Sunghoon slipped his tongue inside, eyes closed as he angled his head to deepen the kiss, swallowing Heeseung's moans.
Heeseung grunted in Sunghoon's mouth, panting as his thrusts got sloppier and his digits rubbed harder against your clit. Sunghoon's hold on your roots was firm, keeping your neck craned, forcing you to watch how their tongues tangled together and listen to their lips smack, Heeseung's groans turning into whines as he got closer to the edge, all being devoured by Sunghoon.
It was too much, and before you knew it your cunt was spasming around Heeseung's cock, cries muffled around Sunghoon's.
Heeseung couldn't last much longer, hips stuttering as he felt you cum around him, his whimper against Sunghoon's tongue delicious as he buried himself as deep as he could, cumming inside you.
The two men finally broke apart, a spit of string still connecting them before snapping, leaving both breathless with parted, swollen lips.
Heeseung tried to recollect himself, garner his breath, try to regain some semblance of self. Slowly he pulled out of you, both of you winching at the sensation. You collapsed down onto the couch, a boneless heap. Slowly, white appeared at your entrance, Heeseung's cum beginning to slowly trickle out of you.
"Fuck... look at that." Sunghoon reached over and spread your folds, more cum dribbling out. He put a finger in, coating it in Heeseung and you, pumping it in and out, watching you shiver with sensitivity. "Can you take more?"
"Mmfuck," you whined in response, hips wiggling. Whether you were chasing Sunghoon's digit or running from it, you couldn't tell.
"C'mon, baby. Let Hoonie fuck you good. It's about time you both start getting along," Heeseung cooed, running a comforting hand up and down your thigh to ground you.
Sunghoon added another digit again, watching your face contort in pleasure as you squeezed your eyes shut. "Don't you want to make it up to me? All those times you were an annoying brat?"
Heeseung smiled, hand going up to comb your hair out of your face, his deceiptively sweet face reassuring you. "It's time for you two to fuck it out."
You nodded, and soon Sunghoon was repositioning you onto your back, spreading your legs wider, pushing one of your legs up and over his arm, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed in, with both of you sucking in a deep breath. You grabbed onto the arm holding up your leg, biting your lip as he buried in hilt deep. Despite how open Heeseung fucked you, you still felt tight as ever around Sunghoon, and you could feel him right up in your guts the way Heeseung promised.
Sunghoon bit his lip hard, trying (and failing) to contain his grunt as he sank into your heat.
"Holy shit. You feel better than I dreamed."
He gave a small, experimental thrust of his hips, examining how your breath hitched and your thighs clenched. Here you were, fucking the man who annoyed you most, who you were always fighting for Hee's attention. You supposed this was a good way for both of you to get it at the same time, Heeseung utterly entranced as he watched Sunghoon's first few strokes inside of you.
More of Heeseung's cum spilled out of you as Sunghoon pushed further in, the first slide going much smoother due to how much Heeseung filled you up.
Sunghoon's pumps were shallow at first, noticing your small winces from overstimulation and possible soreness. Judging by the slight rasp in your voice that's already started to appear, you were going to need a bit of a recovery period after tonight.
Heeseung was growing impatient, however, believing Sunghoon should've came in you closer to yesterday. He was eager to see you filled to the brim with both him and Sunghoon, to see Sunghoon's cock limp and drained because of you. And here the two of you were, wasting time like always when you could be fucking each other's brains out.
"What, don't tell me you're scared of her now Hoon? After all that talk?" Heeseung laughed, clapping Sunghoon on the back of his nape, pulling him close. "Thought you wanted to fuck her?"
That got Sunghoon going a bit, his next thrust sharper than the sloppy, slow rolls he was giving before. Your breath hitched, the sensitive spot inside you slowly drawing in heat.
"Just—" Sunghoon bit his lip, trying to control himself despite the devil at his shoulder. "Don't want it to hurt."
The laugh Heeseung barked out made him feel silly.
The grin Hee gave you bordered on menacing, like he was reaching his wits end. "Did you forget already?" The sharp smack he delivered to your swollen folds had you curl into on yourself, clamping down on Sunghoon and causing him to rut harder into you, trying to sink deeper in. "She likes it."
Hee's words woke Sunghoon up from his worrisome daze, and he drinks in your expression from Heeseung's action. The way your eyes watered and your lower lip trembled, but also the way you opened your legs further, as though asking for more.
The word pops up in Sunghoon's head again.
"Painslut," he growled.
Heeseung grinned wickedly as Sunghoon began to properly pull his hips back, no longer restraining himself and delivering sharp, heavy thrusts that had his balls clapping against your cheeks. The plap plap plap accompanied by the wet gush of your pussy repeatedly swallowing his cock, as well as the pornographic noises you were both omitting, was music to Hee's hears.
Both of you were staring at each other with such intensity, eyes never leaving one another's as Sunghoon drilled into you, mouth dropping open with yours as you both experienced mind-numbing pleasure with each other for the first time when you were supposed to hate each other.
Heeseung could practically taste the mixed emotions from both of you in the air, and he lived off of it.
"Fuck her open." Heeseung bit his lip, watching Sunghoon pull back and roughly slam into you again. "Harder. Make sure she feels it."
Sunghoon furrowed his brows, delivering a harder thrust, savoring the moan that escaped you as he reached in deeper, tip hitting right against the spot that had you feeling weak.
Heeseung sucked in a breath. "That's it. Now you're doing it. Just look how wet she is for you."
You felt Sunghoon twitch inside you at that. Heeseung's commentary was doing wonders for both you and Sunghoon, both of you getting seemingly more flushed. Hoon's thrusts quickened, his enthusiasm showing as he repeatedly hit that spot that had you gasping again and again and again.
"Fuck." Sunghoon grunted, his grip on your waist tightening as he pumped inside. "Feel that? Feel how deep I am?"
He emphasized his question with a brutal thrust that had you scrambling for purchase, grabbing onto Heeseung as your body began to move with Sunghoon's. "Yes, H-Hoon!"
"Fuck yeah you do. You love this, don't you? Love letting me use you like a little slut." Sunghoon groaned, watching the bulge protruding from your lower abdomen. "Still hate me?"
"Yes," you spat out bitterly, your pride still clinging on in some semblance as Hoon started pounding into you.
Both Heeseung and Sunghoon laughed, and it only made your cheeks burn hotter.
"No you don't." Sunghoon landed a smack against your pussy, feeling you clench around him in response. "Holy shit, you got so tight. C'mon, squeeze me baby. Show me how much this pussy loves me."
The cry you let out was pathetic, unwittingly obeying his command as your walls contracted around him.
"There we go. That's a good girl. So you can listen."
Heeseung hummed, enjoying the sight before him, watching both of you slowly unravel in each other. He saw it coming a mile away. He was just glad he got to see it finally happen first hand.
"I'm just so glad to see my best friends finally getting along." He pressed a kiss against your cheek, the action surprisingly tender given the filth of the situation. He pulled back, moving behind Sunghoon so he could watch the view from his friend's perspective.
Both men watched how coated Sunghoon's cock was in Hee's cum, the white glistening along his shaft every time he pulled back. Heeseung's cum helped make the glide easier, extra lubricant added on top of your already dripping wet pussy. You could feel the wetness coating your inner thighs, and wouldn't be surprised if the surface area only grew as Sunghoon continued using you like this.
"Fuck, that's so hot," Sunghoon moaned, tossing his head back and drilling into you with more fervor, veins popping along his forearms as he slammed his hips against yours. "You're so hot. 'Course a pretty girl like you likes being fucked like a slut."
"So pretty," Heeseung agreed, biting his lip, eyes glued to where both of you were joined. "You're both so fucking hot."
He tilted Sunghoon's chin, turning him to face him as he planted his lips against the younger. Sunghoon was responsive to say the least, pressing against Heeseung harder, his hips stuttering for a moment as his brain tried to keep up. Heeseung's other hand slid down Sunghoon's abs, raking his nails along them to make Sunghoon shiver and open his mouth wider.
Sunghoon panted, his thrusts getting sloppier as he moaned into Heeseung's mouth. You could see glimpses of their tongues dancing together with every part of their lips, the whimpers that Heeseung swallowed only driving you closer to the edge. Hearing Hoon's soft pants and moans, muffled against Hee's lips as he held his face tight in his hand, not letting him free for even a second even as he grew breathless and his whines turned needy, was enough masturbation material for a lifetime.
"Fuck fuck fuck, I'm close," Sunghoon moaned against Heeseung's mouth, the words barely decipherable with how Heeseung was devouring him. He whimpered, the sounds getting cut off or replaced with the sound of smacking lips, Heeseung’s grip firm and unrelenting.
Heeseung finally let Sunghoon go, letting the younger man moan and suck in deep, greedy breaths of air. Heeseung's lips were shiny and swollen, and he stared down at where Sunghoon was absolutely destroying you, his thrusts starting to get sloppier with every pump. "Cum inside."
Sunghoon's eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck—"
Heeseung looked down at you, where your eyes nearly crossed with Sunghoon abusing your g-spot, the prospect of being filled up by your biggest annoyance making your back arch against the cushions.
"You want it, right?" Heeseung reached up and pressed his hand down on your lower abdomen, feeling his best friend through the barrier. "I can feel how deep Hoon is inside you. You want it right here, right? Right where I'm pressing."
He pushed harder, making both you and Sunghoon cry out. "Yes! Please, please Hoon. Cum in me. I'm so close."
Sunghoon's hand moved down to your clit, pressing demanding circles against it to drive you to insanity. "Cum for me then. Make your pussy beg for it."
Before you knew it you were doing exactly that.
"Fuck, that's it," Heeseung hissed. He leaned more of his weight on the hand pressing down on you, his grin mischievous and wicked. "Good girl."
The combined stimulation from both of them had you spasming around Hoon, your walls involuntarily quaking and squeezing his girth as promised. Sunghoon let out a guttural groan, your orgasm triggering his own as he hunched over you, his hips stuttering as he began to coat your insides.
You felt the warmth as he starts to fill you up, some gushing out of you already and between your cheeks. Heeseung stopped pressing down on your stomach and grabbed Sunghoon's ass, having him gasp and rut deeper, cockhead firmly pressed against the deepest spot inside of you.
"Keep fucking her," Hee commanded, his tone leaving no room for question.
Sunghoon did as he was told, continuing to pump into you as you started to cringe from the overstimulation. Sunghoon was too, his groans morphing into weak little whines as he let out every drop into you, fucking you still. You could see the mix of pain and pleasure in his face, his thrusts slowing down as his cock began to soften.
Heeseung squeezed. "Don't stop," he ordered. "Keep fucking her. Don't you dare stop."
Hoon, the loyal, pathetic friend he was, obeyed. His weak, stuttering thrusts continued, overstimulating you both as his pelvis rocked against your clit. His pumps were shallower now, lacking the power from before, as though every thrust now took something out of him. Both of you were left breathless, staring into each other's eyes, tears brimming them as you both broke further under Heeseung's command. The man watched with a shit eating grin, clearly pleased watching your glassy gazes.
Sunghoon's head dipped down, and it took every ounce of strength not to collapse on top of you, humping you slightly with what he had left to give, his hips stuttering and sloppy. You felt a tear fall on your collarbone as he whined, not stopping his movements until Heeseung gently pushed him back.
Both you and Sunghoon cringed as he finally pulled out, the white appearing immediately and trickling down on the sheets. Sunghoon slumped over you, breathing heavily, burying his face in the crook of your neck as both of you finally got to come down from your highs.
It turned out, however, that Heeseung was the hardest to satisfy.
He sneered, pulling Sunghoon off of you and scoffing at how he broke before you.
"What are you doing? Clean her up since she's been so nice to you."
Heeseung gripped Sunghoon by the roots, lifting his head and planting him face first into your used pussy.
Sunghoon obeyed, squeezing his eyes shut as he opened his jaw wider, letting you melt in his mouth. He lapped up Hee's and his own cum readily, humming with satisfaction, his ministrations becoming greedy. You cringed from the sensitivity, but Heeseung didn’t let you run from it, using a hand to pin you down as he leaned over you and kissed the pain away. You tried to focus on how his lips moved against yours, but still found yourself bucking against Hoon's mouth and whining into Heeseung’s.
Heeseung smiled, tightening his grip against Sunghoon's scalp as he pushed him harder against you, chuckling at the tears in your eyes.
"See baby? I'm having him make up for being so mean to you," Heeseung cooed. "What do we say?"
"T-thank you," you weakly stammered out, feeling the coil tighten for the last time.
"There we go. I'll even help."
He shoved your legs further apart to make room for himself, pushing Sunghoon's head lower so he could slide his tongue inside. You gasped when Heeseung's mouth joined, the dual sensation of two tongues against you bringing you closer to an orgasm no matter how much your body screamed.
Sunghoon rose his head up higher, tongue meshing against Heeseungs as both slid over your clit, trapping it beneath the pressure of the two muscles. Neither man seemed to shy away from each other, and you could hear the wet smack of their lips against each other as they made out, your cunt acting as a third.
Your thighs trembled, the feeling of both of them at the same time, and the visual stimulus of their eyes peaking up at you from between your legs, made the final orgasm of the night especially satisfying. You gave what was left of yourself, seeing white and feeling as though you were floating for a moment. Slowly, you came back down, feeling their hands rub soothingly along your legs and waist.
Both were panting just as hard as you, their pink, swollen lips an enviable shade, glossed with orgasm who-even-knows. Heeseung had a smug, calm smile on his face, whereas Hoon had heavy lids, exhaustion starting to set in his bones with how spent he now was.
Heeseung patted your head gently, a stark juxtaposition to his rough demeanor prior. "Back to Earth?" He quipped.
You nodded, post-millionth-nut clarity settling in as you realized your best friend and his just gave you the best sex of your life.
"I guess now I have a better answer for all of those people asking if we've fucked," you joked.
That earned a laugh from Heeseung, and even a grin from Sunghoon, who was usually impervious to your quips.
"You're so cute." Whether or not Sunghoon meant to say that out loud was unclear, and you weren't given enough time to think about it because soon he was having you taste yourself on his lips. And him. And Heeseung.
Heeseung was absolutely thrilled watching his two best friends make out, fucking pervert that he is. Everything went just according to plan, even better than predicted, and now he could finally reap the rewards of all his hard work.
you want to fuck him i want to consume him i want to live inside his skin like a beast in the walls of his house i want to be his birth and his death and his beginning and his end and his undoing and his armageddon and his divine creator i want to eat him whole i want him to love me love me love me love me as the worshippers love the temple and as the temple loves the lamb and as the lamb loves the knife i want to be his vampire i want to be his life i want him to tear me apart i want to create worlds out of him and destroy them and destroy him and have him wake up in the morning next to me i want to call him pretty i want to brush his hair i want to crack him up i want to choke him i want to make him bleed i want to kiss the blood from his skin i want him buried deep inside the wound of my desire i want him to be my best friend i want him to loathe me i want to fight him to the death i want to be his favourite girl his favourite villain i want to be his worst fear i want my fingers in his mouth i want my mouth on his jugular i want to be the only thing inbetween him and death eternal i want my teeth in him i want i want i want i want
titsay
vaporwave
dededos
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
izzy806
stormborns
blakekathryn
