#i need both for karina... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jaylaxies · 3 months ago

Text

A REUNION TO REMEMBER

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, public sex, car sex, shower sex, squirting, lots of kissing, slight jealousy, slight degradation (slut) and praising, mentions of drinking, mentions of jay and karina (aespa), and other idols, mentions of nicknames (baby, princess, kitten), more to be added.

WORD COUNT: 15.3k words.

SYNOPSIS: You last met Park Sunghoon when you were attending high school, more precisely, when he had gained enough courage to ask you out, not knowing that the most popular girl of the school was already taken by the senior who was equally as popular. Four years later, your batch decided to hold a reunion back in your town, where you meet Sunghoon again. Only, the problem is that he's hotter than ever and you can't, for the life of you, keep your eyes off him.

PLAYLIST: here!

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N: hihi, angels! i’m done revamping the hoon fic, i hope y’all enjoy reading it <33 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

“There’s absolutely no fucking way he didn’t know!”

You exclaimed, frustration clear on your face, recalling how things went down back in tenth grade to prove your point.

Karina only sighed on the other end of the call, “listen, babe, I love you but you have to take into account how oblivious the poor boy was back then! He studied and skated, that’s literally all he did, that was him,” she spoke, emphasizing on the but part.

You huffed, sitting down on the edge of your bed, nodding to yourself slowly as you let it sink that her point was actually a valid one for once.

“It’s still awkward though,” you mumbled, playing with a loose thread of your sweater.

“It’ll be fine, okay? It’s been four years, and it’s not like you have to talk to him.” Her words were true yet again, and this is why you loved her.

Karina had been your best friend since you were in middle school, she’d always been honest and the social butterfly everyone loved, but at the same time, she was humble and kind, always taking care of the ones around her, not to mention how she was possibly the prettiest girl you’d ever met.

You were relieved to know that she would be with you for the school reunion—an event which was planned thoroughly, it was a big deal.

It wasn’t just a meet up, it was a three day trip back to your hometown, the whole itinerary was planned, as per the usual ritual:

The first day being the reunion dinner night—the most important one out of the three days, a day where everyone shows up clad in their best outfits, a day where they flaunt every bit of success and achievements they’ve accomplished.

The second being the beach day, to make sure no one is left out on the fun factor, also

The last being the night out at the newest club of your city, a night to let loose, especially when it concerns rekindling the old flames (happens more often than not).

The idea itself was thrilling, not to mention how desperately you needed this break, Karina was even quicker to express her excitement by booking two hotel rooms, non refundable at that, for you both as your parents now lived in Seoul, and not in your hometown.

Another sigh left your mouth as you plopped down on your bed, staring at the ceiling while wondering why you even bothered to check the guest list, to check whether Park Sunghoon was invited or not.

It was no surprise when you saw his name in the list, gulping as you recalled the embarrassing incident which took place between you both, the one in which you never got the opportunity to confront him, or explain yourself by any means.

You closed your eyes, revisiting the ever so embarrassing memory.

It was the last day of the tenth grade, your exams had just gotten over and the student crowd was elated, throwing notes everywhere to celebrate the fact that they were not chained to their textbooks anymore, not for a month at least; which caused you to scrunch your nose at the sight of paper wastage, not to mention, the meaningless litter all over.

“Uh—Hey,” a sweet voice called your name at the exact second, succeeding in grabbing your attention.

You recognized him as your classmate, Sunghoon, who was also a good friend of your own friend, Jay.

“Hey! Hoon, right?” You smiled at him, a slight red colour spread on his cheeks at the sight of you.

He nodded, also politely saying ‘hello’ to Karina, who was right next to you before his gaze fell to his fingers as he fiddled with them, his fang-like teeth biting down on his plush bottom lip with anxiety as he worked on mustering enough courage to look into your eyes, only to find your own ones staring at him with curiosity.

“I just—I wanted to ask if you’d like to, you know, go out with me sometime?” He let out the question, unsure of what words he had used and cringing at how shaky his tone was.

He had completely forgotten what he practiced in front of the mirror a thousand times, but he knows for sure that the result was not supposed to come out as horrendous as this one.

Your eyes widened as you looked at Karina with pleading eyes, asking for help. It was no secret that you were one of the popular girls at your school; sweet, hardworking, and humble.

Getting a confession such as this one was nothing new to you, declining politely always worked, however, that was when you were single and not in a relationship with the most popular guy in the school (as cliché as it was), who was also your senior. It was almost like a fanfiction with how the ace of the school, Lee Heeseung, had ended up falling for you.

The news was quick to spread, fast enough for your group chat to go crazy, asking you questions so diabolical which almost made you throw your phone away with embarrassment.

In the span of three days, the whole school was aware of the new ‘it couple’. Except for Sunghoon, that is.

“As, uh, friends?” You winced at how pathetic your question was, which certainly made things ten times more awkward than they were supposed to be.

“N—no, as something more?” Sunghoon helpfully explained, looking everywhere but at your face now.

“Sunghoon,” Karina spoke up, causing you to release your breath, thankful that she was here to control the situation when you could say nothing and feel uncomfortable looking at his disappointed face.

“She’s taken, love! Sorry,” she informed him, his eyes widening and mouth agape.

You wondered if he was genuinely clueless about this, he did look lost to you.

You gasped, suddenly feeling an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as you stared at Heeseung in surprise, who was already looking down at you with a smirk.

“Hey, baby. I missed you,” he spoke up, kissing you right on the mouth, more exaggerated than usual.

Sunghoon witnessed the whole scene, a frown settling on his face, embarrassment clear on his face which was now red and showed clear signs of sadness as he softly said, “e—excuse me,” leaving as soon the words left his mouth, shoulders slumped.

You never met him again, only seeing him with Jay at times.

He was quick to change his school soon after it, knowing that he’d be able to do so easily since the finals were over.

You were going to meet him now.

Your eyes snapped open at the thought of that, you just wished for the trip to be a pleasant one. Furthermore, from your side, you’d make sure to not be awkward around him, pretending as if the whole situation didn’t happen in the first place.

If you’d even get to talk to him, that is.

“Wow, you really are dumb,” Jake laughed uncontrollably once Jay finished telling him the story of none other than Park Sunghoon.

“Shut up,” Hoon mumbled, annoyed that the topic which he had wanted so desperately to be buried in the corner of his heart forever was brought up, once again.

“Wait, but if you knew about them dating then why didn’t you tell Hoon?” Jake pointed the question towards Jay.

“Because he never told me he was going to confess in the first place!” Jay’s eyes widened almost comically as he exclaimed, “and it was exam time, finals at that, Sunghoon had sworn he wouldn’t use his phone till the exams ended, and you probably don’t have any clue as to how big of a nerd he was—”

“Jay! Fucking stop this,” Hoon whined, covering his face with his palm as Jay took out his phone, scrolling to find a picture of Sunghoon.

He looked a lot smaller than he is now, wearing a yellow, collared t-shirt and round specs, lips curved into a small smile as he looked into the camera.

“Holy fuck! You could have been easily casted for the live action of Doraemon, as Nobita, of course.” Jake high-fived Jay after taking a look at the picture, the latter almost falling down with the laugh he had let out, the similarities were uncanny.

“The fuck—Nobita? Oh god this is so fucking annoying, can you guys shut up now? I don’t even want to go and face her ever again,” he snapped, whining like a kid right after.

He had been overthinking about everything that could happen once you meet him again, his brain running at the speed of light with the unless possibilities.

Would you laugh in his face and remind him of how stupid he looked asking someone like you out?

Heck, would you even remember him?

You honestly didn’t have any reason to.

Acting nonchalant didn’t help his case one bit, his self awareness higher than ever, especially when it concerned you.

It mattered to him a lot more than he’d like to admit, your opinion mattered more than he’d like to admit, even after all this while.

A four year gap should have been enough to let his embarrassment fade away, however, all his efforts went to vain once he got invited to the reunion.

“Listen, it’ll be okay. She probably doesn’t even remember you!” Jay tried to make him feel better.

“That’s very consoling, that totally calms me down, thank you very much,” Hoon rolled his eyes, wondering if you’d forgotten him already. It wasn’t as if you both had been close, but you did see each around and during the classes.

He can’t lie, the thought made him sad.

“You definitely have a chance now though, if that makes you feel any better,” Jake let out slowly, noticing the glow up Sunghoon had after comparing him with his old picture.

“Shut up, It doesn’t matter, I don’t even like her anymore,” he mumbled, a light blush creeping up his neck as he did so.

Jake and Jay exchanged a knowing look, putting on a smile as they dragged Sunghoon for shopping while Jay went on talking about what all they should be packing for the three day trip, bringing a genuine smile to Hoon’s face as he looked at his goofy best friends.

Maybe the trip wouldn’t be so bad, he thought.

“Ay babe! You look hot,” Karina winked at you, eyeing you up and down while you glided your lipstick along the expanse of your lips, smacking them together a few times to spread it evenly.

You winked back, “you look hotter.” She laughed just as you said that, engulfing you in a hug.

“Ready to leave?” She asked, getting her luggage out as you followed with a nod, smiling while you got into the cab, Karina being quick to snap a few selfies to mark the start of your trip.

The entire time on your way to your destination, you felt giddy, wondering how everyone looked now, how their life must have changed, did they even remember you, would they even recognize you?

It had been a while since you had last met them and you secretly hoped that you’d get a chance to get laid—your frustrated mind needed this, the studies kept you busy and you hadn’t got time to tend to your personal needs.

Your mind was full of scenarios as you imagined how your stay would go, what all activities you’d do and so on, falling asleep on the plane while envisioning the same.

“Wake up, sleepy head,” Karina shook your arm slightly, waking you up from your dreamland.

It took you a second to realize that the plane was going to land, followed by the announcement of the same and you were still sleepy when you put on your belt, eyes barely open as you wiped your lips with the back of your hand.

The journey was short, and you were checked into your hotel room in no time. As soon as you jumped on the bed, Karina came into your room holding a bunch of skincare products and sheet masks.

“Get up! We need that glow for tonight,” she demanded, plopping on the bed with you as she ushered you to go and wash your face while you mumbled complaints with the need to sleep more.

Skincare was therapeutic for you, however, it also made you sleepy, even more so when the hotel beds were the absolute definition of comfort and pleasure, helping you slip into dreamland in no time.

Your skin felt radiant, so lovingly soft by the time you woke up, also checking the time so see that you had to start getting ready for the reunion dinner at once for you to reach there in time.

“No! You’re not wearing that,” Karina pointed at your trouser outfit, a pathetic scowl on her face, looking at the clothes in disapproval.

“Why not?” You asked, looking at it with genuine confusion. It did seem like a decent outfit to you.

“Because we have to show everyone that you’re still the it girl you were four years back, now hotter than ever,” she mumbled, looking into your luggage as you let her take the matter into her hands, your focus now on styling your hair.

“This!” She exclaimed, getting a dress out which made your eyes sparkle. It was a new dress which you hadn’t gotten a chance to wear before, and she was right, it’s the perfect opportunity for you all to dress up a little.

“Huh? I don’t remember keeping this in my bag,” you looked at her.

“Well obviously, I did,” she flipped her hair, proud of herself.

That was it, the music was blasting, the room was a mess with the makeup sprawled all around, also little articles of clothing as you both dolled yourself up.

“Ready?” She smiled. She looked stunning in that black dress of hers, her freshly coloured hair only added to her beauty.

“Ready,” you confirmed.

“Y/n!” You heard your name, and suddenly you felt warm hands around your body, pulling you into a friendly hug.

Sweet voice and strawberry scent was enough for you to know it was Isa. A big smile spread on your face as you hugged her tighter, looking around to see all of your classmates hugging and talking to each other.

“You look so pretty!” You were in awe, seeing her gummy smile and the pink dress she sported, she was no less than a princess.

“Girl look at you? You’re glowing! You literally grow prettier each day,” she giggled, making your heart melt. She had always been kind and bubbly, another one of the reasons why you were so close to her.

You looked around the restaurant, it was new and the interior was modern, booked for the night for your batchmates. Meeting everyone was like a breath of fresh air.

You didn’t even manage to say hello to everyone before they announced the start of the dinner, asking everyone to take seats, however, one of your old friends Jay was quick to reach to you, his smile as sharp as you remembered it to be.

“As stunning as ever,” he complimented you, hugging your side.

He stood tall in front of you, sporting a scent that gave you the essence of richness which only complemented his black suit, worn with a white button up inside, a gold chain dangling down his slender neck, resting well on his clavicle.

You can’t deny, he looked handsome.

“Thank you,” you said softly, “you look chic as always too.”

A sly smile graced his face, “do I now?” He chuckled, “come on, let’s go and sit,” he said.

You nodded, following him as you noticed that almost everyone had taken seats, Karina waving at you, pointing at the seat she saved, which you gladly took, fixing your dress while you did so as you started rambling about everyone you met till now.

What you had failed to notice, however, was the person sitting right next to you—someone who had visibly stiffened with your sudden appearance. He didn’t move an inch, not until you finally turned your head to look his way.

Your breath hitched, and you prayed that it wasn’t visible how your eyes widened by just a fraction, your mouth stayed agape, and your body frozen, all at the mere sight of Park Sunghoon.

Glow up would be an understatement, he looked like a completely different person without his specs and baby fat resting on his cheek.

His eyes were the perfect shade of chestnut brown colour, it was the first time you had looked into them so clearly, face sculpted with a sharp jawline and pointed nose, lips naturally shaded into a glossy reddish hue, his fangs peeking out by a midge, and hair parted to the side, styled accordingly to match his black button up.

“Hey,” a deep voice snapped you out of your observation session and you realized that it was him.

“Sunghoon, hey. It’s been a while,” you smiled at him softly, hoping that he didn’t notice you staring at him just a second back, mentally slapping yourself for reacting that way.

Meanwhile the boy was surprised to learn that you indeed did remember him, his heart beating a little faster now that he was in such a close proximity with you.

It was something he had ran through his mind a few times—the possibility of you both running into each other, the possibility that you’d care to remember him, the possibility that you would talk to him, however, now that it was actually happening, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty, absolutely no coherent thought graced his mind.

“You look so beautiful,” he whispered mindlessly, mouth opening again as he realized what he had said out loud, “uh—how have you been?” He quickly asked, mentally slapping himself for being such a mess.

That only made you smile further, a glint in your eyes as you replied, “thank you, Hoon. You look really handsome too.” You let out almost in a whispered breath, and you did mean it.

Your words made him smile, which displayed his fangs. Everything about him intrigued you all of a sudden, his presence affecting you in a way you didn’t think it would, your curiosity higher than ever.

Before you could talk more, the servers came out, bringing the starters as everyone chatted excitedly at your table, Karina pulling you to her side rather abruptly as you yelped while she whispered in your ear.

“Is that him? Fucking hell, Y/n, you couldn’t say yes then but it’s not too late—just four years, do it now!” She rushed to speak into your ear, making sure no one else heard it but you.

“Karina shut up, I just met him,” you whispered urgently with wide eyes to warn her.

“So? You have three whole days to be with him! And to be honest, he looks like he knows how to give a girl a real good fuck—” you covered her mouth, not letting her finish the sentence.

“Oh lord! I’m not going to do that!” You exclaimed, taking a bite of your soup, mood uplifting at the scrumptious taste.

“But why?” She was almost going to whine before Sunghoon called out your name, saving you from this conversation.

The sound of him pronouncing your name was rather attractive, especially the way he enunciated it so perfectly, your face heating up with the sudden conversation.

“Yes?” You asked too quickly.

He chuckled softly and you swore your name had never sounded any better.

Maybe you were too into studying all this while that even the littlest things made you jumpy.

Or maybe it was the hottest looking man sitting right next to you.

“Could you pass me that napkin, please?” He asked politely.

You were quick to grab one for him as you nodded, not trusting your voice any further, his slender fingers brushed against yours as he took the napkin from you, saying thank you softly, the slight touch of his cold hands made you shiver.

You needed a distraction before you’d make fun of yourself, and soon, you found one.

Yeonjun, who sat right in front of you, was successful in distracting you, asking about your life in Seoul and about what you’ve been studying.

He was also a student like you, although he liked to work as a model in his free time, “it pays well and you get free clothes too!” He explained with a goofy smile.

You felt content, loving how friendly the atmosphere was as if you guys never lost touch in the first place, everyone drinking champagne to celebrate with a cheer that you join in too, maybe this is why people hype up reunions.

Sunghoon was attentive to everything you had said till now, not wanting to eavesdrop yet way too curious to learn more about you, trying his best not to stare at you every few minutes. Your smile made his lips curve into one as well, unconsciously at that.

The dinner concluded soon, everyone getting up and gathering for a round of group pictures.

Sunghoon’s hand brushed against yours in the process, succeeding in giving you goosebumps again, which he didn’t fail to observe this time.

“Are you cold?” He asked, noticing your goosebumps.

You didn’t have any better explanation, and you couldn’t possibly tell him that he was one responsible for it.

“Oh—yeah, a bit,” you answered, looking at the height difference between you both, his body looked buff underneath his shirt, his veins visible now that he had rolled his sleeves up.

“Here,” he offered his blazer to you, gently wrapping it around your frame as you could feel yourself being overdosed with his scent—it was attractive, engulfing you as a whole.

“I—thank you.” Your cheeks felt hot as you looked away, trying to control your breathing.

Sunghoon was clearly pleased to see you in his clothes, he had seen you after a solid four years and yet, his opinion about you didn’t change in the slightest, you looked perfect to him.

You both reached the group, you trying to tiptoe more as to ensure your visibility in the picture. It was hard to fit such a big group into a frame, especially when people simply couldn’t stand straight out of pure excitement, posing with silly expressions.

“Y/n! Come here,” Karina called your name, pulling you close for another set of pictures with everyone.

“Listen guys! Tomorrow we’ll meet at the beach by twelve, make sure you reach there on time!” Hyunjin announced.

You loved beaches, the sunlight made the water shine like it hid the prettiest set of diamonds in there, the smell of land and water meeting was soothing to your senses, a place so calming, you could spend hours there just staring at the beauty of nature, just to see the sky switching it’s colours from hues of blue to deepest of the orange to the darkest shade of black.

It all made beaches beautiful and you were excited about tomorrow already.

As you made your way out of the restaurant, you noticed two other people waiting for you along with your best friend, Jay and Sunghoon.

“You’re here! We’re taking a cab together to our hotel, apparently they’re staying over at the same place as ours,” she explained, “they probably have their rooms in front of ours too!” She joked.

Sunghoon looked at you in his blazer, deciding that he won’t even ask you to give it back to him, it suited you too much.

His clothes suited you way too much.

He wanted to spend more time with you, he wanted to sit next to you in the cab and he made sure to sit in between you and Jay, his side pressed against yours.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked softly.

“Oh, yeah. Are you?”

He nodded, loving the arrangement so far. Living in the same hotel meant that he’d get to see more of you while Jay sniggered, causing Sunghoon to elbow him as he let out an ‘ouch’. Opening his mouth to ask you questions now.

“So, Y/n, how’s it going with uni? Do you have a boyfriend or someone special in your life?” Jay asked, knowing that his friend was dying to know the same.

“It’s honestly so hectic but somehow still manageable, I like what I’m doing and I won’t be leaving without that degree so, yes I feel like the hard work would pay in the end,” you explained confidently, “and no, I sadly do not have a boyfriend. It’s honestly hard to go on dates when you barely have time for yourself.”

Sadly you had said yet Sunghoon couldn’t have been happier with your answer.

You’d always been hard working and Sunghoon admires that about you, his focus was solely on you ever since you stepped inside the restaurant and talked to him. It wasn’t easy for Sunghoon to fall for someone, but once he saw you again, it was as if his feelings for you had never left.

Just then, the car swiftly came to a stop, jerking forward slightly as Sunghoon quickly put his arm around your waist, pulling your body into him, securing it.

Some car had successfully jumped the red light, almost causing an accident, but thankfully you guys were all safe and without any scratch as the driver was quick to use the brakes, before driving again, making sure everything goes smoothly now.

“You okay?” He asked, whispering as he cupped your cheeks.

You nodded, unconsciously shifting closer to him and he didn’t make any efforts to move his hand away, letting it rest on your waist while your head rested against his shoulder. You were hyper aware of the proximity but the scare was enough for you to not pay attention to it.

It felt comfortable, his scent, his touch, but more than that, it felt genuine, which is why you closed your eyes, sleeping on his shoulder while his breathing hitched, looking at your sleeping figure.

So pretty, he thought, brushing a few strands of your hair away from your face, tucking them behind your ear, letting his fingers linger there for a while. It felt like a dream to Sunghoon, and he wished that he could get more of this — more of you.

The comfort and your warmth seemingly got to him as well, his head resting on yours as he drifted off to dreamland with a slight smile ghosting on his lips.

“Cute! So fucking cute what the fuck?”

“They look like a couple, woah.”

A series of flashes was quick to disturb your sleep, eyelids slowly opening to see two phones being shoved into your face, clicking pictures of you, the chatter coming from the very same pair of people.

Just then, you realized that the picture in question was not just of you, but of the guy who so gladly let you sleep on his shoulder.

Your eyes widened when he blinked open his eyes too, Karina and Jay laughing at his reaction when he saw you staring at him, face inches away from yours.

His eyes widened comically before he diverted his attention to Jay, slapping his hand away who was busy shooting all of this on his phone, even the cab driver watched it with a fond smile on his face.

“You guys are adorable,” Karina squealed when you got out of the cab, rushing to get back to your room, cheeks heated and heart racing.

Were you embarrassed? Yes. But not even a single cell in your body can deny that it felt good—being close to someone.

“Can you stop pairing us as if we’re school kids?” You deadpanned, rolling your eyes at her excitement.

“Absolutely not, it’s fun.” She shrugged, joining you in the lift, “oh, and by the way, nice blazer you’ve got on,” she smiled, continuing to tease you.

Right, you had to return the blazer to Hoon.

Turns out, Karina was borderline prophetic and both of them were indeed on the same floor as you, your room right in front of Sunghoon’s room as if universe was hinting at something.

“Good night guys,” she sang, leaving for her room, a smirk on her face as she subtly pointed at Sunghoon’s room.

Jay followed suit, leaving for his own room, not forgetting to send a wink your way, which the other boy noticed with a frown on his face.

Your outstretched hand got his attention, his blazer now in your hand, “thank you so much for giving me your blazer, Hoon,” you spoke up.

His nickname comes out of your mouth seamlessly, making him smile.

“You can keep it with yourself,” he started, causing you to tilt your head in a questioning manner, “in case you feel cold again, y’know?”

“Yeah? What if I want you to be the one who keeps me warm if I feel cold tomorrow?” You looked into his eyes, testing the waters to ensure if he was actually confident enough to handle you now.

“I—Yes I can keep you warm,” he stuttered.

“Y’know we won’t be needing the blazer then,” he answered a second after overcoming the initial shock of you saying that, stepping closer to you.

“Perfect. Good night then, Hoon,” you spoke sweetly, a playful smirk on your face, your own heart racing at the exchange.

However, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist the second you turned around, spinning you so you stood right in front of him, hands on his chest to support yourself as your eyes widened at his bold move.

“Good night, love,” he whispered, his finger tracing your jaw, before he leaned in to place a soft kiss on the apple of your cheek, a teasing smile on his face before he walked two steps back, his bottom lip bitten to conceal his smirk as he got into his room.

Your fingers instantly touched the place where he had kissed you. The small display of affection earlier had left you restless and desperate for more, wondering how his lips would feel against the expanse of your skin.

“God, Sunghoon,” you whispered to yourself, eyes closing as you realized;

You wanted more.

“Fuck—oh lord! Faster, please,” you whined, as his fingers pressed against your cunt, rubbing your soft folds in an agonizingly slow pace, his lips planting hot open-mouthed kisses down the valley of your chest.

“You like that, huh?” He asked, mumbling against your skin, biting and sucking on your hardened nipples harshly, doing it enough to imprint marks on your body.

The pain was more pleasurable than you could have ever thought of.

“So fucking much,” you hummed, fingers grabbing onto his roots, tugging his hair slightly.

You cried out of pleasure when he inserted two of his fingers into your pussy, pumping them in and out before he came to whisper against your lips.

“Bet you’ve been dreaming about this—about me,” he smirked.

A moan left your mouth, which he swallowed by kissing you right away, taking all your lewd noises in.

“Don’t you, kitten?” He asked against your mouth, his fingers leading you to your orgasm, the nickname only acting as a catalyst to the high of your pleasure.

All until your alarm rang and your eyes snapped open, a gasp leaving your mouth as you sat up straight in a go, once you came to the realization that it was just a dream.

A wet dream.

About Park Sunghoon.

“Oh god, oh my fucking god, no way,” you groaned, hiding your face into the blanket, pussy tingling with the dream you had a few seconds back, mostly due to how realistic it was.

You had no other option but to hop into the shower and lean against the shower wall, your fingers inching down to play with your soaked folds, rubbing your clit in gentle circles as your phone played a sensual song from your playlist, remembering how Hoon touched you in your dream.

You moaned, shoving two fingers in, curling them inside you with a desperate moan, a moan of Sunghoon’s name, as you bit your lip to conceal your lewd noises, you thrusted your digits with need, till you made a mess on your fingers, breathing hard as you struggled to stand straight.

You looked into the mirror, breathless, realizing just how pathetic your condition was, even more so when you had made yourself cum by thinking of Park Sunghoon.

You wondered how you were ever going to face him after this.

Especially when you had a beach day ahead and the possibility of seeing Hoon shirtless would be high.

Ignoring the fact that you had a wet dream about the man sitting in front of you during breakfast was a tough thing to do, yet you managed it well.

He looked like a prince even in casual clothes and he knew how to make you go crazy by just a wink of his, even giving you the doughnut in his plate, which you wanted so dearly.

His appearance was innocent, unlike last night where he was in a black button up—hot and attractive beyond words, he left you speechless.

“Are we renting a bike or not?” You asked Karina with a smirk after you were done eating.

“I’m down,” she gave you a high-five, “I don’t know about the boys though.”

“Wait, you can ride bikes?” Jay asked, impressed.

“Of course, we can, Jay,” You answered proudly.

“Take us on rides then,” he said, brow raised at the offer.

“Sure, select your rider, we’ll go to the beach on the bike then,” you smiled.

By the time you got ready in shorts and a top, which you wore on your bikini set, the sun had come up and was shining brightly. You had your bag packed with all essentials and two sets of extra clothes because you never know when you’re at the beach, not to mention how much sunscreen you had used to protect your skin.

All four of you got into the lift, and you noticed how you and Karina were wearing the same colours, while the boys were in shorts and t-shirts.

“Who’s coming with me then?” She asked, showing her bike keys.

“I am,” Jay spoke up, as if it was their plan to leave you with Sunghoon, alone at that.

You bit your lip, closing your eyes for a second before turning to look at Hoon, “you’re stuck with me then.”

“Perfect,” he smirked, following you out.

“Wear this,” you passed him the helmet, which he put on.

But your gaze went on his arm, which flexed as he fixed his helmet, the short sleeved t-shirt did nothing to hide his muscles.

You were surely not gonna survive this day.

“Let’s go,” he smiled, snapping you out of your daydream.

“You ready?” A smirk settled on your face as you checked the rear view mirror, looking at Sunghoon, who was quick to send a nod back.

What he didn’t expect was that you’d speed up the second you start the bike, making him jerk forward and hold on to your waist, making you shiver slightly before you began your journey of a total of ten minutes, the beach being close to your hotel.

“Woah, fuck!” You heard the boy say from behind, making you smile as you zoomed past the cars and other vehicles.

“Hold on tight,” you screamed against the wind, loving the light breeze caressing your skin, and Sunghoon’s body pressed against yours.

His arms tightened around you with your command, and your mind wandered to the morning when you dreamt about him.

It did feel good, and you were certain you wanted more.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon was looking around, enjoying the scenery, but most importantly, he was enjoying the time he got to spend with you — his old crush. He leaned in, taking in your scent, smiling at how you didn’t change your perfume still.

He was highly attentive and observant when it came to you.

A series of hooting was heard in the parking lot, where all of your gang was waiting for you four to arrive, thoroughly surprised to see you riding bikes.

“That’s so fucking hot,” Yeonjun came over, wearing only beach shorts, abs on display as he saw you take off your helmet, the scene looked as if it came out of a movie.

“Dang, Junnie, been working out?” you asked, focus now on him as you happily chatted and took his hand, which he offered with his charming smile, and walked towards the beach with everyone else.

Sunghoon watched it all with his jaw clenched, Jay and Karina approaching him with a knowing expression on their faces. He wanted to spend time with you, and he didn’t expect anyone to steal you away from him so soon.

He was pissed.

“Maybe she’d notice you if you remove your SpongeBob t-shirt,” Jay adviced, keeping his elbow on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong with SpongeBob?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Oh god, what would you do without Jay, he’s right by the way. Also, do you have abs?” Karina asked, doing the same from his other side.

“Uh huh—does it matter?” Hoon huffed, shrugging their hands off and walking further.

“It does matter when you’re whipped and trying to impress a baddie!” Jay announced helpfully, making Hoon stop to slap his shoulder.

“Stop shouting for fucks sake!” He warned.

“You’ll never get her at this rate. Trust me, go shirtless and see the magic. Also, stop being a loser and move your ass, go and approach her before someone else does,” Jay said.

Sunghoon simply looked around to ensure that no one was eavesdropping on their conversation, his friend embarrassed him enough and your best friend didn’t help either. Did he actually make it that obvious? He wondered.

Seeing you laughing with Yeonjun did make him want to step up his game.

“Guys! Get changed and then the ones who wanna enjoy the water are free to do that, while those who wish to do water sports, gather around that area,” Taehyun announced, pointing at a shed area meant for the registration of water sports.

You simply wanted to enjoy in the water, so you made your way towards the changing stalls, getting rid of your shorts and top to reveal your bikini, after which, you looked into the mirror to ensure your appearance was okay.

“Love the bikini,” Isa complimented and you cooed at her one piece swimsuit. Everything she wore suited her perfectly.

And Isa didn’t lie, a lot of heads turned to look at you once you were out, some silently admiring your beauty, for instance—Sunghoon, with his eyes fixated on you and your body.

While others, like Yeonjun, didn’t hesitate to show how pleased they were by your entrance, whistling slowly, which flustered you slightly as you rolled your eyes at him, rushing to get under the beach umbrella, eyes darting away to look at Sunghoon, who was already staring at you.

“See you in the water,” Karina left, running away with excitement clear on her face.

That left you two alone under the umbrella.

“You’re not going?” You asked Sunghoon, getting sunscreen out of your bag.

“Just waiting for you,” he spoke smoothly, causing you to look at him.

“Help me then?” You passed him the bottle of sunscreen, turning around with your bottom lip bitten.

Sunghoon took a deep breath, he wanted to touch you in more ways than one. He squeezed out some sunscreen, his cold fingers touching your skin as he applied it on your shoulder with a gentle massage.

His strong hands made you sigh with pleasure, head tilting to give him more access to your neck area, his fingers paying attention to each inch of your back, fingers digging into your inner shoulder with his breath fanning your neck.

He took your name, almost as a whisper.

“Yes, Hoon?” You looked back at him, only to find his face inches away from you.

He came closer, looking into your eyes, “let’s go,” he smiled, heart racing from the proximity and he wasn’t sure how longer he could handle staying so close to you without even kissing you.

“Race you to the water,” you screamed, running away with a smile so big, it naturally made the boy smile as he realized how much he wanted you.

You were fast, but he was faster and his arms wrapped around your waist the second your feet touched the water. Soft giggles left your mouth as he turned you around and ran further, standing in the water with his arms open and a victorious smile graced his face.

“That’s fucking cheating!” You pointed your finger at him, others laughing at your childish bickering as he defended himself with a serious expression, trying not to give in to your pout.

“I don’t cheat,” he came close to say, pouting on his own.

Before you could retort, he started splashing water all over your body, others joining soon and splashing water everywhere.

“Hoon, what the—” You squealed, rushing to splash water back on him, only to trip and fall right into his arms, his hands firmly holding you close to him.

“What? Falling for me already?” He asked, a cocky smirk on his face.

“In your dreams,” you retorted.

“You were,” he shrugged, confusing you yet again.

“Where?”

He hooked his finger and lifted your chin tenderly, making you look into his eyes, “in my dream, last night,” he whispered, leaning in closer, leaving you speechless.

Sunghoon was the shy, nerdy kid who used to sit in the front of the class, always keeping to himself, talking to only Jay.

Now, however, you couldn’t even recognize the guy in front of you. While you found the old Hoon to be cute, you wouldn’t lie when you say that the confidence he oozed now made you want to know him more. The words rolled off his tongue so smoothly, which made you wonder if he flirted with others too.

It seemed as if he was on a roll to make you go speechless, and his plan was working. By the time you turned around to reply to him, you saw him swiftly remove his t-shirt.

Your body stilled as your eyes traveled up and down his body, skin shining with the sunlight that complimented him perfectly. He was lean but muscular, muscles flexing as he took off his SpongeBob t-shirt, abs now on display for everyone to see. He looked flawless.

Karina elbowed your side, eliciting a yelp out of you, “ow fuck—what?” You whisper yelled.

“You’re drooling,” she pointed out, “get that man,” she tapped on your shoulder, pushing you towards him.

However, when you observed some girl, who wasn’t a part of your group, coming close to Hoon while placing her hand on his bicep and asking if he was single, it made you want to run away and not witness the exchange of Sunghoon smirking at the other girl.

Jealousy was a nasty disease, and sadly you were terminal.

Naturally, you made your way out of the water, face hot as you fanned yourself walking towards the beach chairs under the umbrella, not knowing that the boy had no other job but to follow you, politely rejecting the other girl.

You sat down, closing your eyes as you tried your hardest not to think about the dream you had earlier, your desire only fuelled when he flirted with you with that ever so stunning smirk of his.

Seeing him shirtless was your last straw.

You needed alcohol in your system to survive this, to let yourself free. Sunghoon was already resting on the chair next to you by the time you opened your eyes again.

“I’m hurt,” he started, looking your way.

You raised your brows at his comment, “why? I thought you had company.” You took a sip of your drink, enjoying the bitter taste on your tongue and the slight warmth it brought to your throat.

The statement was of immense pleasure to him, especially when he sensed the hint of (read: obvious) jealousy that your words radiated, and he just wished he wasn’t being delusional, his ego boosting alongside his confidence.

Everyone was out of the water by now, the gang was done with their water sports activities as well, coming and sharing their experiences with a loud chatter, also talking about arranging a bonfire as the sky turned into the prettiest shades of yellow with orange and red hues.

“I do have company,” he whispered, coming closer for you to hear, “a very pretty one at that.”

He took the beer bottle from your hand, taking a long sip of it, your eyes fixated on how his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped it down.

You snatched your bottle from him, watching as two drops trailed down his chest and towards his abs.

“Sorry, but you left your pretty company back in the water,” you huffed, smiling sarcastically before leaving to get a shower and change back into your shorts before the bonfire.

Sunghoon held on to your wrist before you could escape, pulling you so your back was flesh against his chest, his lips on your ear, brushing it slightly, “you sound jealous, princess,” he teased.

You turned to look at him, lips an inch away from his, your head tilting, “I don’t have a single reason to be jealous, Sunghoon,” you quipped.

With that, you walked away, knowing well you were jealous when you had no right to be so.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, was having the time of his life stealing your attention and having you to himself. Your reactions only encouraged him to do more, he wasn’t the one to flirt, however, he loved to get a reaction out of you.

Being together for two days was enough for Sunghoon to realize that his feelings for you never faded, it only grew more after spending more time with you. He couldn’t hide the smile forming on his face as you denied being jealous, it gave him hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d have a chance to win your heart. The fragrance of your body mist lingered around him because of the earlier proximity.

He swore it was his new favourite scent.

His eyes followed you, admiring your beauty from afar before he too went to get a shower and freshen up.

“So, you and Sunghoon, huh?” Yeonjun asked, sitting down on the sand next to you.

The shower did make you feel better, the cool breeze and the sunset creating a calming atmosphere, the bonfire in front of you only making it cozier.

The question caught you off guard, resulting in an awkward cough from you, “what do you mean?”

“Come on, anyone can notice the sexual tension between you two, or maybe I’m just observant,” he shrugged, “you can’t deny that he’s hot,” he pointed out helpfully.

“I’m not denying anything, but I don’t think anything will happen between us,” you pouted, watching the man walk towards your group, drying his hair with a towel.

A gesture so natural, but he made it seem so enthralling that you couldn’t help but stare.

“So you do think he’s hot,” Yeonjun followed your gaze with a smirk.

He wasn’t going to let this go, and you were sure of that, a groan leaving your mouth as you divert your attention towards him.

“I’ll help you get his attention, although I think you’re doing pretty fine yourself,” he lowered his voice at the last few words as Sunghoon sat down next to you, passing you his charming smile.

“Truth or dare,” Yeonjun asked you, starting to implement his plan, passing you another can of beer.

Sunghoon looked at you with curiosity filled eyes, jaw clenched slightly as he noticed your closeness with Yeonjun, why is he always around you?

“Uh—truth?” You asked more than answering.

This also gained the attention of your group, everyone cheering to play a round of truth and dare just like the old times.

“That’s boring,” he scrunched his nose, “how about I dare you to kiss or rather, makeout with someone in this circle?”

“Yeah, absolutely not. I’m not playing,” you took a long sip of your beer, ignoring the series of disappointed grunts coming your way.

“Why?” He whined, “I bet anyone would want a kiss from you,” he emphasized, looking around the circle dramatically before he swiped his tongue on his bottom lip.

Sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance, eyes never leaving your face as he saw you disagree, a small smile on his face at your rejection.

Oh boy, was he going crazy with his ever so often mood swings, only when it involved you.

He also wondered if Yeonjun wanted that kiss for himself.

“He’s right I mean, you are beautiful and oh god, I remember the number of proposals you used to get on Valentine’s day,” someone pointed out as a matter of fact.

Seems like everyone was drunk already and the night had just started.

That statement made Hoon go stiff as he remembered his own memory of confessing to you.

“Oh, that reminds me of the time Sunghoon had come to ask you out,” Yunjin mentioned with a mischievous smile, as if everyone was on a mission to have you and Sunghoon in the spotlight.

You closed your eyes, dreading the topic that was about to come up right in front of everyone, moreover, deep down you did wish to hear what Hoon had to say, after all these years.

The said guy groaned, hiding his face when the topic he so desperately wanted to avoid, came up out of nowhere, secretly hoping that you didn’t find him weird after remembering the same.

“Sunghoon confessed?”

“What? When did this happen?”

“Did you reject him?”

A bunch of questions were thrown your way and you looked at Hoon with a panicked face, him doing the same, biting his cheek yet again and looking away in, well, rejection.

“It was in high school, and that’s all we’re telling you,” you answered, dismissing the crowd.

“So you can kiss him as your dare,” someone proudly suggested.

He looked bothered and you frowned, “guys, no. Let’s not make him uncomfortable now, it should be consensual y’know,” you spoke gently and Yeonjun took the hint to change the conversation really quick, daring someone else to drink five shots in a go.

If only you knew how much he yearned for it, yet he was sensible enough to not let it happen in front of an audience; batshit drunk and immature audience if he must say so.

“Hey. Are you alright?” You kept your hand on his surprisingly warm ones.

“You’re cold,” he frowned, intertwining his fingers with yours effortlessly and keeping them inside his jacket’s pocket, “I have to keep you warm, remember?” He said, still looking elsewhere as to hide the evident blush creeping up his face, not sure if it was due to the prior embarrassment or the newfound warmth of your body.

He was nervous, trying his best to divert the topic and you let him, scooting closer to feel his warmth.

“I really did not know you had a boyfriend back then,” he confessed with reddened cheeks, “I was just so fucking busy with exams and—”

“You don’t have to say anything, Hoon. I do understand and I’m sorry for what happened that day,” you tilted your head to look at him, blinking slowly as you finally felt your alcohol kicking in, “you’re pretty,” you whispered.

Maybe you shouldn’t have drank that much, knowing well you can’t handle, or anyone can handle you after you reach that level of drunk.

Hoon was on his fourth can of beer already, his tolerance level not being too high, causing him to get drunk faster—it showed on his face.

His heart hammered against his ribs when you whispered that to him, and he pulled you closer, “you’re the prettiest,” he mumbled, tucking a stray lock of your hair behind your ear.

Everyone seemed to be in their own worlds, laughing at random things, playing music and dancing, however, your drunk self wanted nothing more than to be with Sunghoon, to kiss him, and it took all of your self control to restrain yourself from doing so.

Sunghoon pulled you closer and on his lap, your face buried in his chest and his arms wrapped around you. He wanted you more than ever and being drunk, he couldn’t help but pull you impossibly closer to him.

His palm rested on the side of your waist, gentle caresses sending jolts of pleasure up your spine. It felt too

Despite everything, you did admit how his presence made you feel warm inside, and it wasn’t solely because of alcohol.

He bummed a song under his breath, you almost slept in his hold, his deep voice giving you butterflies. His embrace made you feel wanted, just like you had wanted him, and you indeed were in your own world, soon being disturbed by others saying it’s time to go back.

Someone made you drink water, and soon, you were in a cab with your best friend next to you, Sunghoon on the other side and Jay riding shotgun.

“Good night,” Karina sang out once you reached your hotel, Jay leaving soon after.

“Come with me, I want to sleep with you,” you whined, no control over your mouth anymore, you took Sunghoon’s hand, pulling him into your room.

“Y/n,” he whispered, closing the door behind him.

“Fuck,” he muttered out, seeing you remove your denim shorts, leaving you in your t-shirt as you climbed on your bed.

He followed, discarding his clothes and getting into the bed with you, a blanket covering your bodies. Your back was pressed against his muscular chest, his arm around your waist keeping you in place.

A soft gasp left your mouth as you felt his hot breath on your shoulder, his lips touching your skin, making it burn with warmth, “Hoon,” you softly whined.

“Yes, baby?” He continued placing open mouthed kisses on your skin.

“Kiss me,” you breathed out.

“Would you like that?”

“Yes, so much,” you confirmed.

“I want to kiss you,” he confessed, “but not when we’re drunk. If you ask that of me tomorrow then I’ll do it without question.”

“No—right now,” you mumbled, whining.

“Shh, sleep for me baby,” he said, distracting you with soft kisses on your shoulder again.

“But—”

“Go on, princess, sleep, hm?”

You smiled even though he couldn’t see you, “okay,” you said softly, admiring how beautiful the man was.

You turned around to face him, “good night, Hoon,” your voice came out as a whisper.

“Good night , princess.” You felt his lips on your forehead before you drifted off to dreamland.

A dull ache in your head disturbed your precious sleep. Your eyes opened with a few blinks, settling down on Sunghoon, who laid next to you with his eyes capturing your each movement. You stiffened for a good second, remembering how hot his lips felt on your body the last night.

“Fuck,” you groaned, hand on your head as the effects of hangover started to kick in.

“Here,” he got up, passing you a bottle of water.

“Hoon,” you started, not sure what to say about last night.

“I’ll go,” he says, “I—I didn’t want to make things awkward between us,” he apologized, getting up quickly, putting his clothes on and leaving before you could say much.

“Ugh,” you groaned, hating how the situation turned into what it shouldn’t have been, you wanted him, drunk and sober, in both states.

But he didn’t know that. You were worried if he didn’t want that, or if his gestures were friendly all this time.

His kisses weren’t friendly last night, your mind reminded you, and you let out a series of curses at that, at how desperately you had wanted him to be close to you, all this in a span of two days.

Sunghoon was breathing hard by the time he locked his room, going straight in the shower. He was frustrated. The hot water droplets paired with his flashbacks from the last night, the way you said his name in a whisper, the way your bikini fit you perfectly, and how you looked at him like you wanted him just as much as he did.

He groaned, hand traveling down his skin to pump his semi hardened cock, gulping as images of you invaded his mind. With his head resting against the tiled wall, his fist moved on his length with speed, with need.

He had never jerked off to the thought of anyone before you came into his life again, it was his first time and he admitted, he didn’t know that just the thought of your body pressed against his would make him this hard.

With a moan escaping his lips, he painted the tiles white with his cum, your name leaving his lips as he stood there, breathing hard and deep in thought.

He had to have you.

Tonight.

“We’ll go first,” you tell Karina, getting ready together for the last night — the club night.

“Sure, but why?” she asked, trying to perfect her already perfect liner.

“I don’t wish to face Sunghoon,” you mumbled, sitting down on the bed to wear your heels.

She stopped her movements, turning to look at you, “I thought you guys hooked up last night, it was going well, wasn’t it?” She asked, confused.

“I don’t know, babe. He didn’t do anything yesterday because we were drunk, which was very sweet of him, but then he left this morning without talking about it,” you explained.

“So talk tonight, and maybe do more cause you don’t have much time left,” she reminded you, “maybe go with Yeonjun’s plan too, Hoon would definitely reach out to you once he sees you with him. I’ve seen that he doesn’t really like when Jun’s with you, it shows on his face.”

“Really?” You asked with a frown, “making him jealous sounds very high school core to me.”

“So what? It works!” She smiled, “and I’m ready, how do I look?”

“Stunning, gorgeous, perfect,” you answered, “and I think I’ll take up your advice this time.”

She smirked, “let’s go and get you your man,” she said, coming close to you, getting a shade of lipstick out which suits you through and through, knowing well that it’s the perfect opportunity to use it.

Flashy lights, loud music, drinks and dancing bodies everywhere. It was easy to spot Yeonjun on the DJ stage, vibing to the music feely. Life of the party as always.

“Let’s grab some drinks,” Karina spoke in your ear, the music being too loud for you to hear much from a distance.

You nodded, following her and smiling when you saw a few people from your batch standing there and drinking.

“My ladies, you look hot,” Beomgyu said, kissing your knuckles and ordering drinks for you both.

Seems like making Hoon jealous won’t be a problem after all, especially when everyone has a flirty nature.

You weren’t going to drink today, you had to be sober and in your right mind, so you settled for orange juice instead, the music making you move on your own.

“My lady!” Yeonjun spoke up, popping out of nowhere, pulling you into a hug before he came closer to whisper, “you look stunning,” his eyes shining as he said so, “but I don’t see lover boy, where’s he?”

“Will be here soon I hope,” you replied.

“Dance with me, he’ll definitely come sooner if he sees you with me,” he smirked as you took his hand, taking up on his offer.

Yeonjun was a good company after all, your eyes widening at his bold moves before he pulled you in with a smirk, “lover boy’s here, and he’s looking at us,” he informed you, your eyes moving behind to look at him.

Sunghoon was agitated, fuming almost with the sight in front of him.

He wanted you all to himself, for tonight, tomorrow, and if possible by any means—forever, and he wasn’t going to shy away, not this time.

“Are you just gonna stand and watch while he takes away your girl?” Jay asked from beside him.

“Not today, not this time, Jay,” Hoon replied simply, his eyes following your actions, watching as Yeonjun took you to the bar, Gyu on the other side as you laughed about something you were talking about, whispering in each other’s ears.

Sunghoon scoffed, rolling his eyes as he walked towards you. He didn’t wish to be nice all of a sudden, it was the last night, last possible chance for him to actually do something or regret sitting back forever.

He stood right behind you at the bar, eyes fixated on your face, the shade of lipstick you had on suited you so perfectly that he wanted to ruin it by smashing his lips onto yours, turning you around in a single go and claiming you his.

Instead, he tapped on your shoulder, successfully capturing your attention as you finally looked at him thoroughly — he was clad in black trousers, a loose black shirt with two top buttons kept open, his chest slightly on display. A delicate chain on his slender neck, hair parted to the side to match his look and his defined jaw clenched as he looked at you with a desire filled gaze.

His eyes held a different kind of intensity tonight, almost the kind you’d want to get lost in, his lips curved into an attractive smirk as he finally spoke.

“May I steal you for a moment?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded mindlessly, gulping at how fine he looked.

He didn’t wait for you to follow him, instead, he held on to your wrist and pulled you with him, your eyes widened at his bold move, your feet moving quicker to match his pace as he dragged you out from the back door, to an alleyway which was empty.

“Sunghoon—” you called out his name, but he was quick to push you against the wall.

His eyes looked into yours, they were dark with a feeling you couldn’t quite understand before he leaned in, “remember what you said yesterday?” he asked, nose touching yours, frustration clear in his voice.

“W—what?” Your voice came out shaky, his fingers on your arms were enough to make you shiver.

“Fuck, kitten. Forgot already?” He chuckled and you let out a shaky breath at how easily he called you such nicknames.

“Forgot what?” You asked, looking into his hooded eyes.

“That you wanted me to kiss you,” he leaned in further, his lips brushing against yours with his statement.

“Yeah? And what about it?” you asked, trying to sound stern, as if your legs weren’t about to give out right this second.

He scoffed, “I fucking bet you’d love it if Yeonjun would do that, won’t you?”

“I could be wrong, but I have a teeny tiny feeling that you are jealous, Hoon,” you replied, a small satisfactory smile on your face when you saw him scowl, your index finger resting on his clavicle.

He tilted your head upwards, his slender fingers holding your chin up so you looked into his eyes, “fuck—yeah,” he breathed out, “yeah I am, because I fucking want you all to myself—” he confessed.

“Fuck it,” you muttered midway his sentence, breaking your tough girl act and pulling him closer by his collar, your hand on his shoulder as you pressed your lips onto his.

He was quick to react, pushing you against the wall harder while also pulling you closer by your ass, his other hand on your nape. His lips moved against yours in a perfect harmony, you felt your knees getting weaker as his soft lips kissed you with no intention of letting go—not now, not never.

He separated your legs apart with his knees, pushing it in between them with ease, you pushed yourself further till you could feel his thigh in between your legs, applying pressure to your core which had you moaning into his mouth, almost to the point of drooling.

“Fuck,” he cussed, separating your lips to place rushed kisses on your neck, your head tilting to give him space as you grinded on his thigh, head ringing with the high he gave you just with his kisses.

“Ah—Hoon,” you whined, causing him to stop his actions, his slender fingers wrapping around your neck as he pulled you closer yet again, speaking against your lips.

“I really thought I was over you after not meeting you for four fucking years, baby,” he almost growled, “but nah. I saw you at the party sitting next to me and I realized that I still want you, now more than ever,” he whispered, staring deep into your eyes.

“I—I want you too, Hoon,” your voice came out breathy.

He let out a low laugh at that, “you sure you don’t want Yeonjun?”

He was jealous, he didn’t bother denying that and you admit you found this side of him hot, possessiveness clear in his eyes, which had turned even darker if it was possible.

“His name wasn’t the one on my tongue when I touched myself last night, y’know,” you admitted, not missing the look of slight surprise on his face, “it was yours, only yours,” you tiptoed to whisper in his ear.

A barely there smirk settled on your lips as you tried to leave, but Hoon was quick to pull you back, his hand on the back of your head as he pushed you against the wall yet again, and you loved how easily he handled you, as if your body moved the way he wanted it to.

“You’ll be the death of me, kitten,” he said, “it makes me want to mark you up.”

“Why don’t you do it then?” you whispered, raising your brow as a challenge.

He didn’t need to be told twice, his lips were on yours the very next second, your fingers tugging at his silky roots, sighing in exasperation with the wetness pooling in your underwear, your mind going fuzzy and your insides melting as you let him take control of you.

He nips at your bottom lip, hand traveling down to cup your breasts, squeezing them lightly before he pinches your hardening nipples, your back arched into him as you feel a shiver going down your spine.

Your short dress and its sheer fabric does nothing to help you, your skin feels as if it’s on fire with how passionately he kisses you, pulling you into him with desperation while pushing you back against the wall, your hand going under his shirt, tracing his faint abs softly.

He knows it’s not even nearly appropriate to do this in public, but he can’t, for the life of him, stop his hands from roaming over the expanse of your body, from his fang-like canines to bite your clavicle and his eyes darkening from lust as he sees your body responding to him exactly how he wants to.

“I won’t be able to stop myself anymore,” he grunted, taking your name.

“Take me back to the hotel,” you breathed out, intertwining your fingers with his.

He nodded fervently, hoping that his hard-on won’t be visible as he drags you through the sea of dancing bodies, biting his lip before you both get to the parking lot, getting into the car he had rented earlier.

He tried his best to be a gentleman as he opened the car door for you, bending down to press another sloppy kiss on your lips, the atmosphere warm with how drunk he looked in your essence.

It was hard for him to walk and get into the car himself, especially when you were right there, ready and just as desperate as him, your deep breaths only making him breathless.

His hand rested on your thigh the whole fifteen minutes of the drive, inching upwards with docile squeezes which made you squirm in your seat, low whines leaving your mouth desperately.

“Shh, baby. I’ll have to park the car right here if you keep making such sweet noises,” he warned.

The offer was tempting—tempting enough for you to let out a moan, to which he did what he had to. He swiftly took a turn, parking the car at the empty lane, switching the engine off before he unbuckled his seatbelt.

He turned your way, lips on yours as he unbuckled your belt too, a gasp leaving your lips as he effortlessly pulled you to his lap.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” His thumb traced your lip, which you parted looking up at him with innocent eyes to suck on two of his digits, swirling your tongue around it, your cheeks hollow as you took it in. You could feel his hardened length just under your clothed cunt, which made you move your hips slightly, just to get a reaction out of him, testing the waters.

However it backfired once he smirked against your lips, the warmth of his palm travelling up your body, resting on your clavicle as his fingers closed in around your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze before he thrusted up.

You moaned, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“I want you, please!” you begged, unbuckling his belt as he watched your every move.

“I can’t believe I get to have you now,” he says.

“What do you mean?” You stop to look at him, arms around his neck.

He puts his arm around your waist, picking you up slightly to get rid of his pants and boxers, “you’re the only fucking person I’ve ever wanted,” he says, whispering your name right after, eyes on your dress strap which slid down your shoulder, “tell me what you want, baby.”

Every word he spoke, every sound he made, it all caused an influx of this feeling in your chest—your heart raced, butterflies erupting into a wild fashion as your face heated up with the depth of this situation.

“You. All of you,” you answered in a beat, “I can’t wait anymore, I can’t stop thinking about you, Sunghoon,” you said.

“You don’t have to,” he whispered, kissing a sensitive spot below your ear, “don’t fucking stop, kitten,” he mumbled as he licked your neck, his fingers pulling your panties to the side simultaneously, pressing them to your wetness.

You held onto his shoulders as he rubbed your sensitive folds, his cock poking at your entrance alongside, “such pretty moans,” he groaned, feeling you being a mess in his arms, “all for me?”

“All for y—you!” Your words came out in fragments, legs shaking as he pushed his fingers inside you, your back arching into him yet again. His lips were busy planting kisses all over your tits, ensuring not to leave a single spot, pushing your dress down to reveal every bit of you.

Sunghoon was a patient person, but not when it came to you. You were driving him insane with just how vulnerable and needy you appeared to be in his arms, his eyes fixated on how your chest rose up and down, his own sweat making his hair stick to his forehead, your breaths intertwining as he plunged his fingers harder into you.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, strong enough to leave crescent marks, the sound of your low moans, his grunted murmurs, and the deep breaths interfolded impeccably with the music playing on the radio, reverberating through the car.

Once he felt like you were prepped enough, dripping on his fingers, he swiftly pulled you up, pressing his lips upon yours as he pushed you down on his cock, your walls clenching around his length, the stretch too pleasurable for it to hurt you.

Your fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, scrunching it up as to support yourself against his body, each touch of his igniting your senses. His muscles tensed beneath your touch as your hand unbuttoned his shirt, the cold of your hand juxtaposing the warmth radiating his body.

“You’re not real,” he mused, mesmerized, “so fucking pretty, taking my cock like that.” Sunghoon knew he was far gone when it concerned you, but now that you were actually here, closer to him than ever, he couldn’t help but let his mouth run loose to tell you just how stunning you were.

“You’re mine tonight, huh?”

“So—so fucking yours,” you moaned.

He scoffed, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him, “say it, clearly.”

“I’m so fucking yours Sunghoon,” you gasped, feeling him twitch hard inside of you.

“That’s it, that’s my good little kitty,” he chuckled against your mouth, kissing your swollen lips yet again.

You both muttered a string of curses before you started shifting your hips, his hands on your waist guiding you up and down, eyes closing but he was quick to grab your neck, “look at me when I fuck you,” he said, bucking his hips up to meet yours.

He loved how you looked, hair messy, lips swollen and eyes slightly teary as you tried to form coherent sentences but failed miserably, all of which Sunghoon loved.

You were just as gone for him as he was for you.

“Can you feel what you’re doing to me?” He asked, taking your hand and pressing it to your lower abdomen where you could feel the bulge of his cock sliding in and out effortlessly, given how wet you were, practically dripping all over his lap and the car seat, something that the rental company wouldn’t really appreciate but that was the least of your worries.

“Gonna make you scream my name till the windows fog up with your desperation,” he rasped near your ear and you couldn’t function anymore, not when the hottest man ever had you spiralling for him.

“Sunghoon, H—hoon!” Your voice got louder as you did exactly what he had promised you’d do, making him chuckle against your neck, nipping on the skin with the intentions of leaving marks, his marks, “slow, please!”

You were lying to yourself by now, you didn’t want him to be slow, you just weren’t sure how much you can take before you lose the final string of your sanity—if there’s any left, that is.

“God,” Sunghoon mumbled, “slow? I’ll fuck you hard enough you’ll feel me in your cunt for days, kitten.”

“Fucking hell, I—I’m close,” you moaned, your nails digging into his shoulder.

“Let go, baby,” he said, groaning as he felt your juices coating his dick, your moans louder than before, eyes closed and his name like a mantra on your lips.

He grunted, rubbing your clit as he slid out of your pussy, stroking his cock until he spilled his cum all over your inner thigh.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he breathed out, “not so quick.”

You were fucked, quite literally. He kissed you, once, twice, and again till he was moaning in your mouth, so dazed he could barely function for a minute when you tried catching your breath.

He helped you get into your seat again, not even bothering to put his shirt on as he drove back, jaw clenched, your eyes on him the entire time, pussy tingling as his hand squeezed your thigh every two seconds.

And he didn’t lie, his movements were more frantic than ever as he drove back to the hotel with record speed, making sure to stay and help you look presentable, the small touches of him all over your face made you feel an feeling which you couldn’t quite name, it was indescribable, but you knew it gave you butterflies.

And you wondered how this guy who fucked you so roughly not even ten minutes back could also be this sweet and caring, kissing you every chance he got.

You giggled as you ran into the elevator, a smile gracing his own face at your giddy mood, “I don’t want this night to end,” he confessed.

“It won’t end just yet,” you said, taking out your room card and opening the door, which he closed equally soon as he pushed you against the wood.

He looked perfect, swollen red lips, shirt barely buttoned, hair all over the place, and eyes so shiny as if he held a whole universe in them, or maybe that was just your reflection.

“Kitten,” he sighed, “let me taste you,” he requested.

You looked at him with teasing eyes, a smile of the same fashion gracing your face as you went on, unzipping your dress and moving towards your bed while facing Sunghoon, letting the dress fall along with your underwear, uncovering your bare body to him, as if offering the last morsel of meal to a hungry man.

He unbuttoned his shirt, discarding all his garments. You could finally see him in light, his eyes hooded, body sculpted by the gods themselves, the v-line and his big cock making you gulp as you remembered how good he felt inside you.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered you, to which you obliged.

“God, such a good little girl for me, spread your pretty legs and let me see you, baby,” he spoke, getting in between your legs, his chain dangling down.

The nickname made you shiver, Park Sunghoon made you feel weak, in all the best ways, the way he kissed your thighs, inching closer to your inner thighs, so close to your core which was still wet, all of this made you breathless.

A pathetic whine of Sunghoon’s name slipped past your lips the exact second he licked your pussy, his big hands keeping your legs open, “eyes on me,” he spoke against your wetness, humming at the taste.

He wastes no time in immersing his tongue into your pussy, licking and sucking as you panted, thighs shaking, his tongue tracing your vulva, groans vibrating against your folds, your hips bucking up into his mouth as he delved deeper, pushing his tongue into you.

Your soft folds made him growl, nuzzling closer. Nothing was enough, he couldn’t get enough of you, even the scent of your arousal had his cock twitching, it was harder than ever, almost painful at this point, his nose nuzzling deeper, brushing against your heat.

“H—hoon,” you cried, a tear streaming down your face, your fingers tugging on his hair, which only urged him to growl more into your cunt.

It was so raw, so filthy.

You feel ecstatic as his thumb probes at your narrow depths, stimulating your clit while he pushes his tongue in, “want you so much,” he spoke against you.

“Hoon! Please, can’t wait anymore,” you said, pussy swollen and you needed his cock inside you.

“So needy, and for me?” He asked cockily.

“Y—yes! Please,” you begged.

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” He comes up, kissing you, making you taste yourself on his tongue.

His chain dangled around your collarbone, his intense gaze focused on your expressions as he pumped his cock a few times, his tip on your entrance.

He spit into your mouth, diving right in to kiss and capture your moan.

He pushed himself in with a swift movement, bottoming out. He asked if you felt fine, giving you time to adjust, he moved in and out of you swiftly, body pressed against your warm one, his each thrust getting deeper with the roll of his hips.

You could swear you had never felt this way before, he hit your g-spot so precisely, and the feeling of him being inside you, all raw and thick, made you mewl with pleasure.

“You look so pretty,” he groaned, licking your neck where he had just marked you, “falling apart on my cock like that.”

Your toes curled each time he opened his mouth to whisper something filthy into your ear, making your head spin in a good way.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, your fucked out face, swollen lips and the innocent eyes begging him to go faster made it harder for him to hold back. He, in fact, didn't wish to hold back anymore.

He thrusted in harder, squeezing your tit as you cried out his name, your walls clenching around him, making his length twitch as his fingers dug into your ass, pulling you closer, your tits pressed against his chest, his eyes wild and desperate.

“Can’t get enough of you, it’s like your body was made for me,” he smirked lazily, fangs showing as you told him how you can’t wait any longer, you can’t hold back any longer.

He was just as desperate, not being able to hold his dick twitching in you with a need to release.

“Cum in me!” You moaned out.

That drove him over the edge. You filled with his cum? His warmth dripping out of your soft little cunt? Fuck, he could burst his load right into you but he needed you to be completely, truly okay with it.

“Y/N, are you sure?” He asked, cupping your face, leaning in to brush his nose against yours, foreheads pressed as he breathed in deeply to control himself, just like you, a different kind of warmth spreading through your body.

He had never done that before, neither had you, however, you wanted nothing more than to experience it for the first time and you wanted it with each other.

You nodded, “yes—yes please,” before he pushed his cock harder, as you rutted your hips absentmindedly to ride out your high.

The room smelled like sex, the mist clouding it as your sounds resonated the walls, you didn’t even try to conceal your voices anymore, the dim lights only made the atmosphere hotter.

“Oh, fuck!” He grunted.

Your orgasm ripped through you as you pulled his nape closer for his lips to be on yours, his own climax rushing as you felt the warming sensation of Sunghoon’s cum filling your cunt up to the brim.

You both stilled, taking deep breaths and coming down from your state of euphoria, gulping as you saw him looking right at you.

“C’mere,” he said softly, getting up and watching his cum dripping down on your sheets, gulping as the tip of his ears getting red.

You couldn’t get up, only looking up at Hoon with teary eyes, he swore you looked like a broken puppy to him, which only made him wanna scoop you up in his arms, his muscles flexing yet again as he held you up, kissing the corner of your eye, tasting the salty tear that escaped, courtesy of his cock which provided you with the best orgasm of your life.

“Fuck—ah,” you whimpered, only boosting his ego.

You couldn’t walk, he made it happen.

Which made it his duty to take care of you, biting down on his smile, he chuckled, making you groan and slap his shoulder, only causing him to laugh without hesitation this time, you swore it was the prettiest laugh ever.

“You alright, love?” He asked, eyes shining as you nodded, both walking towards the bathroom.

“God—don’t say that,” you mumbled, shyness creeping through.

“What? My love?” He said again, smiling as he emphasized again.

“Hoonie,” you warned and he only kissed you again, before you pushed him playfully, stepping into the shower, barely holding yourself up.

“Need help, princess?” He asked, eyebrows raised as he stared at your body, and you gave him a look, almost surprised to see him getting hard again.

Oh boy, was he crazy for you.

“In the shower?” You raised your own brows.

“Well, I fear if I was the one who filled you up with my cum, I should be the one to help you clean it,” he whispered, getting into the shower, closing the glass door behind him, sneaking his hand up your waist.

“You’re crazy,” you said, looking up at him with a grin which you did try hard to conceal.

“Hey, it also helps us save water,” he added, smile widening, before he leaned in, lips on your neck, as you felt the warmth of the water cascading down your bodies.

“Missed this?” He asked, shoving his hand between your legs, “god, you’re so full of my cum,” he chuckled proudly as you shivered in his arms.

Sunghoon wasn’t usually this confident, however, seeing you breathless, whimpering and asking for more even though he had just destroyed your cunt was doing something to him, he couldn’t help but admire the sight—something he’d never get used to.

He was gonna get what he’s wanted all along, once wasn’t enough, even a thousand times won’t be enough, he wanted you for the course of his lifetime, eerily romantic thought for someone who was fucking the girl of his dreams in a shower. Lovely.

You pulled him in for another rushed kiss, feeling him smirk against you, chasing your lips as you tried to move back in hopes of whining, but he was greedy enough to grab your nape, greedy enough to swallow all your moans, keeping it for himself.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, fingers teasing your cunt, or what he’d like to say, cleaning your cunt which he so nastily claimed, “not clean enough, hm? I think we’ll have to use a deeper approach.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” you panted, his cock lining up against your wet cunt, and you could only look up at him.

His hair sticking to his forehead, water droplets dripping down his face to your cheek, steam fogging up the glass door as you tried to keep yourself up on the slick tiled surface, his muscles flexing as his veiny hand held you up, his grunt loud as he pushed himself into you yet again tonight.

His thrusts were languid as you tried your hardest to breathe, his head leaning down, with his mouth open, practically breathing you.

“I fucked you so hard and yet you’re so fucking tight,” he grunted, “god—baby, you feel so fucking good,” he muttered. “So fucking good—fucking perfect—mine.”

“Yours,” you mewled out, eyes closing with each of his hard thrust.

Lasting long wasn’t an option, not when you were this close to reaching euphoria, but it was different this time, and you feared what might happen if he went on like this. His cock was so thick, also the biggest you’d ever taken, to the point you could feel its bulge on your lower abdomen.

“Can’t—can’t anymore,” you stuttered, legs shivering to the point your knees gave out and Hoon held you up with ease.

“Doing so good for me baby, let go, hm? Be a good little slut for me,” he rasped.

That tumbled you over the edge, your eyes rolling back as you let out the loudest moan of Sunghoon’s name, thighs shaking as a jet of liquid gushed out of your quivering slit, surprising the boy who let out a groan, filling your cunt again as you squirting all over his cock, the sensation overwhelming you to the point your body almost fell limp in his arms, panting harshly as Sunghoon moaned.

“Did you just—”

“I didn’t—know I could,” you mumbled, hiding your face in his neck, embarrassment creeping through.

He breathed in deeply, kissing you again, “that was the hottest fucking thing you could have done, baby” he mumbled against your lips, “you’re perfect, you did so well for me, you’re my good girl.”

Sunghoon barely held himself up, the way you reacted to him, the way you looked when you let yourself loose, it was going to be etched in his mind forever.

It took you both a while to calm down again, and he kissed you all over to do so, soft pecks all over your face, making you smile lazily at his sudden cuteness. He made sure you were clean and helped you shower properly this time before coming out.

Sunghoon was clingy, absolutely not having it in him to leave your side, observing every move of yours as if trying to memorize every bit of you, even making sure you’re clad in his shirt as you both made your way towards the bed, a soft glow gracing your faces.

“Hey,” he said, getting into the covers with you.

“Hey,” you turned towards him, still feeling giddy.

“I can’t believe you’re real,” he said, touching your cheeks softly.

“Why would you say that?” You asked, keeping your hand on his.

“Before tonight, I had only ever dreamed of being this close to you, I never thought I’d even get to kiss you,” he spoke.

“Hoon, I’ve been thinking about you since we met again,” you told him, brushing his hair with your fingers softly, “actually, ever since I got the invite,” you confessed sheepishly.

That made him smile, “can I ask you something?”

You hummed, “yes?”

“Can we, maybe, if you’re okay with it then y’know—” he fumbled with his words, making you laugh, even the slight lisp of his was so perfect.

“Shh, we’ll talk tomorrow, yeah? Hold me to sleep, Hoonie,” you said, putting your arm around him.

His heart melted at the sight, and what made him happier was the fact that you didn’t just want him for sex, your smile expressed it all. The thought of you actually liking him back, reciprocating his feelings made his heart beat faster, anticipating a future with you.

“Good night, baby,” he kissed you, just like last night. However, he kissed your lips tonight, making you giggle softly as you held onto him tighter.

He stared at you, not being able to hide his smile and wondering how he could ask you out again, especially when it would be easy for him to meet you since you both lived in Seoul.

The trip was officially over, and you could proudly admit that you loved every second of it.

Your flight was the same as Jay and Sunghoon’s, courtesy of you living in the same city, in which he couldn’t help but keep his eyes fixed on your seat. He appeared to be a pathetic puppy who couldn’t help but stare at his owner, gone to the point he picked the same movie to watch as you, talk about being a stalker in love.

Jay was sitting next to Hoon and he desperately wished he could kick Jay out and ask you to be next to him but he managed to behave these few hours. He was happy as long as he could look at your pretty face.

Both Jay and Karina screamed in shock when Sunghoon kissed you at the airport before leaving for their own apartments, he wasn’t shy about his, almost boasting in a way to show off how you were his, almost.

A text popped up on your notification panel as soon as you reached your place, still smiling like a madman while answering all the questions Karina threw your way.

Hoon <3: hey i was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime?

You: as friends?

Hoon <3: god, baby c’mon

You: as friends? 🥺

Hoon <3: Y/N what if i kms

You: as friends? 😁

Hoon <3: okay, fine 😔 nooo, as something more :(

You: fuckk you’re so cute like a puppy

Hoon <3: oh

You: don’t tell me… you like being called that?

Hoon <3: why don’t you try and say it then the next time i’m deep inside your cunt?

You: oh fuck

Hoon <3: is that a yes baby?

You: what if it is?

Hoon <3: that’ll make me very very happy, princess

You: AHAAHDHSJ text me the date and time 😚

You smiled, loving how things had changed from the first time he asked you that question.

It was indeed a reunion that you could never forget.

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#fic : a reunion to remember #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #enha smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios

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domjaehyun · 8 months ago

Text

under the influence (l.dh)

PAIRING ▸ stoner!haechan x fem!reader WORD COUNT ▸ 11.6k WARNINGS ▸ a hint of dubcon (she’s timid but very much likes the attention), pervy!dom!haechan, shy!sub!reader, slight dacryphilia, corruption kink, finger sucking, oral (giving & receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, nipple play (receiving), marking, some cum eating, spit play, groping in public, panty stealing & sniffing PLAYLIST ▸ FYS - john concepcion, sweet release - kevin ross NOTES ▸ hii i hope you enjoy! any and all positive feedback is greatly appreciated, so send me an ask if you liked it or let me know in the tags pretty please :)

As you press the button to call the elevator, you start to get the jitters. They start in your fingertips and travel up your arms to the back of your neck, making the fine hairs there stand on end, and you shudder slightly, shaking your head in an attempt to do away with the sensation.

The doors open with a ding, and you jump at the sound, making Yeri look over at you in alarm.

“Are you okay?” she asks, worries, and you nod, albeit a bit too quickly and vigorously to be convincing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say with a frown, and she rolls her eyes exaggeratedly. “Nothing!” you insist.

“You’re a horrible liar,” Karina reminds you, and your frown deepens. “But if you say so, I guess.”

Relieved, you follow Yeri and Karina into the elevator and lean into the back corner of the shaft, resting your back against where the two walls meet.

“We should watch a movie today,” Karina suggests excitedly, and she and Yeri fall into a discussion that you would join if you weren’t busy thinking about Haechan and whatever stunts he’s going to pull today.

It takes three calls of your name from Karina and a vigorous shake from Yeri to snap you out of it, and you look at them sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Girl, where do you keep going? Every time I look over at you, you’re in la-la land.” Yeri asks, concerned and amused.

“Sorry, I was just… thinking.” you mumble.

“We know that,” Yeri says with a chuckle and roll of her eyes. “Thinking about what, hm?” she presses, and you balk.

“She’s probably thinking about Haechan and what stunts he’s gonna pull today.” Karina supposes, and you frown, upset you’ve been caught.

In your defense, Haechan is always up to shenanigans when you’re around; he pulls at your skirt to fluster you, plays with your hair to get your attention, strokes under your chin just to watch your eyes glaze over—you name it, he’s either done it or is probably thinking about it.

You can’t honestly say his advances are unwelcome because, well, you’ve had a crush on him for the past six months. But something about him is so intense, so jarringly locked in, that it makes you hesitate, and being the object of his full and undivided attention never fails to make you the shyest version of yourself, and you manage to make a fool of yourself almost every single time you get around him, and you have no idea how you’re going to deal with his antics today.

“Girl.” Karina’s voice cuts through the fog in your brain and you blink hard, focusing on your friend’s concerned expression. “You’re doing it again.”

“Oh. Sorry,” you mutter, rubbing your arm awkwardly. “I’m here, for real.”

As the bell dings and the doors open, the three of you file out of the elevator, walking towards the end of the hall to your destination.

“If you need help with him, let us know. We can make up a code word!” Karina suggests helpfully, and you smile, endeared by your friend’s attempt to calm your nerves.

“What should it be?” you wonder, and she screws her face up thoughtfully.

“Blinker.” Yeri answers, and you both turn to look at her. “It should be blinker. Like, if he’s getting too close and you can’t handle it, you can just say you kinda wanna try hitting a blinker or something like that.”

“The last time I hit a blinker, I coughed for ten minutes straight and it was the most painful experience of my life.” Karina recalls, grimacing at the memory. “It’s perfect.”

“Great.” Yeri says, smiling reassuringly at you before the three of you stop in front of the apartment door. Without a second thought, Yeri knocks three times on the door, stepping back to where you two are standing and waits with you for someone to open the door.

It opens a moment later to reveal Haechan standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorframe and the other holding the door, and you wonder how such a simple stance has you short of breath.

He looks at Karina and Yeri, smiling pleasantly, before he locks eyes with you. Slowly wetting his lips, his eyes slowly drag up and down your frame, taking in your outfit and appearance before he meets your gaze once more and drops one eyelid into a flirtatious wink.

“Come on in,” he invites, stepping back to let Karina and Yeri in. When it’s your turn to pass, he moves closer, deliberately blocking part of your way so you have to brush by him to enter, and you’re sure it’s also no coincidence that he’s positioned himself so your chest has to brush against his. You swallow your nerves and continue walking past him, not daring to look back in case he’s looking at you; which, if today is anything like every other day you all hang out, he most certainly is.

Shutting the door behind you, Haechan follows after the three of you into the living room, but waits, standing, by the chair where Mark sits—for what, you don’t know. You wave hello to Mark in his favorite armchair and Jeno on one end of the couch, who greet you pleasantly and resume their tasks of packing the bong and rolling a joint, respectively. Mildly confused but saying nothing at Haechan’s behavior, you take a seat at the other end of the couch, only for Haechan to move at last, crossing the living room to sit directly next to you.

Your throat dries up at the prospect of being so close to him, and you inhale shakily, wanting desperately to roll your eyes back in your head when you catch a whiff of his intoxicating cologne.

Haechan doesn’t say anything for a moment, just rests one elbow on his knee and observes you with his cheek in his palm. His expression is nothing short of desiring as he takes in your appearance, your burgundy pleated skirt and short-sleeved cream blouse apparently quite the fascinating little number to him, causing you to shift awkwardly in your seat and self-consciously tug your skirt down a bit.

“Relax,” he chuckles. “I’m staring at you because you look good,” Haechan compliments, eyeing you appreciatively. “You always look good, though, but today… damn.”

You blink at him, stunned by the flirtatious lilt to his voice, and mumble, “Oh.”

“Oh?” he mimics you, chuckling, and you furrow your brows, frowning at his teasing. His brows lift up as his face brightens with amusement, and he shakes his head slowly with a smile.

“Thank you.” you say softly, and he nods, smile widening.

“You’re so cute.” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. Your eyes dart around, looking everywhere but at him, but he recaptures your attention when he snickers quietly and you meet his gaze to see he’s no longer looking at your eyes, but your lips, and there’s a distinct longing in his stare that unnerves you and, if you’re honest, piques your curiosity. “Did you make it here okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, eyes shifting back and forth from his eyes to your lap before you give into temptation and look at his lips, regretting it instantly when they quirk up into a smirk as he catches you looking. “The bus was basically empty, and it had heating today.”

“Mm, that’s good to hear,” he muses, running his fingers through his hair, and you attempt to hide the way you swallow thickly at the attractive sight. “We don’t want anyone pressing up against such a pretty girl and trying anything sleazy, right?”

“Um…” you trail off, managing to restrain the reply on the tip of your tongue that Haechan is probably the most likely candidate to press up against you and try something sleazy.

“...Right.” he finishes for you, and you nibble your bottom lip.

“...Right.” you echo, and he grins.

“So… Do you wanna smoke?” he asks.

“I do,” you confirm shyly, and he smiles slightly, no doubt amused by your nervousness.

“Good girl. Did you wanna hit my pen? It’s pretty strong.” he offers, and you won’t lie—your brain blanks for a minute at the praise, but you’re pretty sure you manage to recover just in time for Haechan not to notice anything.

“Okay,” you reply hesitantly, and he grins.

“Great—give me one second to get something.” he says before standing up and heading to the back of the apartment to his room. You wait fairly patiently, fingers lightly drumming on your knee as you wait for him to return.

“What’s up?” Mark asks curiously.

“Haechan’s getting something from his room.” you explain, and Mark nods slowly, lips pursed thoughtfully.

Haechan returns from the back of the apartment after a moment with a new cartridge in his hand. You watch with mild fascination as he deftly switches the cartridges in his pen, taking a test pull and holding it in for so much time, you’d swear he’s trying to show off.

When he looks over at you and winks before blowing it out, your suspicions are confirmed.

“This strain is special,” Haechan murmurs to you, and his eyes drop to your lips as he continues, “it’s a ‘horny’ strain.”

“A horny strain?” you mumble, confused, and he nods with a grin.

“It heightens libido.” he adds, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Want some?”

“That’s not real,” Mark calls out from across the living room, and you crane your head to see him. “There’s no actual science to back that up.”

Haechan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No one signed up for your TEDTalk on weed; save it.”

Mark grumbles something about misinformation being the death of society but remains otherwise silent.

Haechan calls your attention back to him with a simple clearing of the throat, and you look back at him to see his gaze heavy-lidded and sultry as he regards you, and you start to wonder if Mark might actually be the misinformed one.

“Want some?” he repeats his question from earlier, and you hesitate, making him roll his eyes and chuckle. “It’s not gonna bite you.” As you shift closer to take the pen from him, he holds it out of your reach with a glint in his eye. “I might, though,” he murmurs, and you swallow thickly.

He scans your frame, eyes lingering on your almost outstretched hand, and takes a slow, deep pull from the pen, not holding it in for nearly as long before he’s leaning towards you suddenly, making you yelp and draw back.

“Relax,” he mumbles, some of the smoke slipping from his mouth. He cups your chin in his hand and tugs gently to get you to open your mouth before leaning closer, so close that you fear your lips might touch, leading you to attempt to pull back; however, Haechan’s grip on your chin tightens, a clear sign to stay where you are, and he blows the smoke into your mouth slowly. You’re deeply flustered at first, but your instincts kick in as you inhale the secondhand smoke, holding it in your lungs for a couple of seconds before blowing it back out.

When you’re done exhaling, you expect to pull back, but Haechan’s grip on you hasn’t loosened, the male now studying your lips with an intensity in his gaze that gives you a twinge of anxiety and something else you don’t have it in you to identify.

“You ever shotgunned before?” he asks softly, and you shake your head as much as his hold on you will allow. “You did a good job.”

“Thanks,” you mumble meekly. “Can you let me go now?”

He rolls his eyes slowly, lips quirking into a cocky grin as he does just that, releasing your chin and sitting back. “If you say so.”

“Thanks,” you mutter quietly, and he flicks his brows upwards in acknowledgement, gaze scanning you before lingering for a moment by the side of your face. “What is it?”

“You have something in your hair,” he says, gesturing to near your ear. When you fail to retrieve the foreign object, he tsks in dissatisfaction before leaning over and gently removing a single white feather from your hair. “Probably from the pillows.” he explains, the backs of his fingers gently grazing your ear as he pulls back. When you squirm away from his touch slightly, the contact too sensitive and ticklish, Haechan chuckles softly. “Look how nervous I make you.” His fingers return to your ear, gently stroking the shell of your ear, and your face blazes with embarrassment and something else as he hums softly. “Even your ear is hot. Do I make you hot anywhere else?” He drops his hand, fingers lightly skimming your upper thigh, and you just about jump out of your skin, cursing internally when you see the delight in his expression.

“Thanks for getting the feather out of my hair,” you say in a desperate attempt to navigate the conversation elsewhere, but it seems Haechan isn’t quite set on letting you off that easily.

“Oh, come on,” he presses, sitting closer to you and leaning so close you can smell his (delicious) cologne. “Don’t tell me your heart isn’t racing right now.”

It is, you think grimly. That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid.

“Haechan, leave the poor girl alone,” Karina calls from the other end of the couch, and the momentary waver in Haechan’s attention on you as his eyes dart elsewhere is all you need to scoot further back and smooth your skirt out with a vigorous clearing of your throat.

When Haechan looks back over at you, you’ve thankfully managed to regain a semblance of your composure, your gaze politely but pointedly focused at your hands in your lap.

“Pretty girl, you want another hit of the pen?” Haechan offers, and you think back to the way Haechan clutched your chin earlier to shotgun you, finally shaking your head in refusal. “Okay,” he relents, reaching into his back pocket for something and frowning before pulling out an empty hand. “I have something for you.” he says before standing up and heading back to his room.

He emerges once more with a half of a red gummy cube sticking out of his mouth, sitting back down on the couch and draping his arm over the back so it’s ghosting just over your shoulders. “Bite,” he urges through closed teeth, and you shoot him a wary look. “Bite,” he stresses, and you falter, not sure if you should.

“Is it an edible?” you ask cautiously, and he rolls his eyes, an amused chuckle leaving him.

“Yes. Bite.” It’s not a request, and instead of getting huffy about him bossing you around, you’re more surprised than anyone else when you lean in and carefully bite the other end of the gummy, tugging your half away from his mouth before chewing it. It’s sweet and sugary, but there’s a definite strong aftertaste, a tongue-drying, almost numbing sensation that reminds you it was more than just a little snack. “See, you don’t mind sharing with me, right?”

You don’t answer, instead sitting back and pulling out your phone to fire off a quick text to your group chat consisting of the two girls sitting a little ways away from you and your fourth roommate, Yurin, who usually frequents these hangout sessions but had to pass this time to study for midterms.

you [18:11pm] SOS

you [18:11pm] he keeps being all TOUCHY TOUCHY what do i do?

You set your phone down on the couch face down and stand up, heading to the bathroom to calm your nerves.

Little do you know, your phone buzzes while you’re gone, Haechan’s curiosity getting the better of him as he flips your phone over.

Luckily for him, and very unluckily for you, you don’t have a privacy setting on your Messages app notifications, meaning that any incoming texts can be read by any prying eyes, no passcode necessary.

yurin big trouble mister [18:14pm] maybe tell him how you get all TOUCHY TOUCHY with yourself to the thought of him 😁

karina bo bina [18:16pm] god could you be any more crass??

yurin big trouble mister [18:17pm] LMAOOO i couldn’t help it the joke was right there

yeri berry [18:18pm] you’re laughing. our dear friend is about to get consumed by a weed smoking incubus and you’re laughing.

Haechan snorts to himself in amusement, deliberately leaving your phone face-up for your return. You enter the room shortly after, picking up your phone and scrolling through your notifications with a small frown bordering on a grimace.

“What’s got you all upset, pretty?” Haechan asks, feigning curiosity, and you flinch, locking your phone and tossing it in your lap in a panic. “And now you’re jumpy, too? What’s on that phone that’s got you so stressed out, hm?”

“Nothing,” you answer far too quickly for your liking.

“I don’t think it’s nothing,” Haechan persists, voice lowering in pitch and volume as he moves closer to you, eyes bright with excitement and something else you can’t quite place. “I think there’s something incriminating on that phone.”

“Incriminating?” you mumble, dazed and flustered, and Haechan nods slowly, lips curling into a wolfish grin.

“Incriminating like… nudes, maybe,” he muses, tapping his chin thoughtfully, and at the sight of your confused face, shakes his head. “That must not be it. Maybe a message of some sort… from a friend…” You freeze as you realize exactly what’s going on, and Haechan’s grin only widens now that he can tell you know that he knows. “Wonder what you look like when you… how did she put it? ‘Get all touchy touchy with yourself’ to the thought of me.”

“Haechan,” you murmur, heart rate quickening as you try to think of any possible way out of this conversation. “It’s not what you think it is.”

“I think it’s exactly what I think it is.” he counters with a mischievous wiggle of his brows, and you whimper in panic, desire starting to blaze in his eyes at the sound.

“What were you doing looking at my phone, anyway?” you accuse, cursing to yourself as your voice shakes slightly.

“I’m nosy,” is all he offers in response. “And, oh, please, you wanted me to see that text. You wanted me to know that late at night,” he teases, pulling your hand closest to him away as you squeal and try to cover your ears, “you touch your pretty little pussy,” he forces your hand back down between you two with a chuckle, “and think about me.”

“Could you lower your voice, please?” you mumble nervously, and he just laughs.

“You don’t want everyone to know that you’re into me, do you?” he remarks, and you swallow thickly, looking down at your lap. “I’ll keep your little secret. For a price.”

You study him out of the corner of your eye suspiciously. “What price?”

He strokes his chin thoughtfully before leaning back and draping his arm behind you on the couch. “I’ll let you know.” His voice is teasing but there’s an ominous edge to his voice that makes you gulp.

“Hey, Yeri?” you call, and her attention is on you instantly. “Remember when, um, you hit that blinker earlier? How’s your throat feeling?”

Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly in understanding and she rubs her throat gingerly, frowning deeply. “It’s still sore. Wanna come get some water with me?”

“Yes,” you accept the offer gratefully and practically spring up from the couch, following after Yeri and ignoring, to the best of your ability, Haechan’s little snicker from behind you.

“You wanna switch seats?” Yeri asks in a low, concerned voice as you two enter the kitchen, and she laughs when you hesitate.

“I mean, I like it, I just… need a quick break.” you mumble, and she nods, pouring herself a glass of water. “Could you guys, um, hear him earlier?”

“No… why?” she scrutinizes you, and you blink, flustered.

“He saw the group chat texts.” you mutter, and her eyes widen in alarm, setting her glass down a bit too harshly, the loud clink resonating throughout the room.

“I’m gonna kill Yurin.” she hisses.

“Not if I get there first.” you huff, and she snickers. Footsteps sound out from the living room, making their way to the kitchen, and Yeri pauses. “It’s not Haechan,” you assure her. “I think it’s Karina.”

Sure enough, Karina enters the kitchen, and Yeri looks at you in surprise. “How’d you know?”

“I recognize the footsteps.” you explain with a shrug. “Plus, the guys are wearing house slippers and we’re in, like, socks, so it makes a different sound.”

“Okay, little miss super spy.” Yeri teases with a laugh, and you giggle, pushing her playfully. “Have you recovered, you think?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, smiling. “I’m ready to go back out there.”

“What’d I miss?” Karina whines, and Yeri looks at you expectantly.

“Haechan saw the texts about me… at night… that Yurin sent.” you explain carefully, and Karina lets out a loud gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth.

“I’m killing her.” she groans, and you and Yeri chuckle.

“Get in line, girl.” Yeri says, and Karina snorts in amusement.

“You’re gonna be okay if we go back out there, right?” Karina asks worriedly, and you’re briefly overcome with appreciation for your friends.

“I’ll be okay, I’m pretty sure. I’ll just say blinker again if anything goes wrong.” you confirm, nodding resolutely, and the crease between Karina’s brows fades away as she relaxes.

You three make your way back to the living room, fully preparing to sit back down, but thankfully, before Haechan can torment you further, Jeno inadvertently saves your life and whatever’s left of your dignity by standing up from the couch abruptly and clapping his hands together. “I’m hungry. Diner?”

“I would kill for waffles,” Karina agrees, and Mark and Haechan also stand and start to grab their belongings as you all make your way to the door and slip your shoes on.

As you shuffle between Yeri and Karina for protection and wait as the elevator descends to the indoor garage of the apartment complex, a tickle starts to build in your throat, making you clear it quietly, then more insistently when the sensation persists.

“You okay?” Haechan asks, hand poised over your back to pat it in assistance, and you nod.

“My throat is just… a little dry,” you mumble, and Haechan nods in understanding, reaching into his jacket and handing you a Blow Pop. “Thanks,” you mutter, pleasantly surprised as you unwrap the lollipop and stick it into your mouth. By the time the doors open on the garage floor, the flavored saliva produced by the sweet treat sitting in your cheek has almost entirely soothed your throat, and you’re feeling significantly better.

The six of you make your way to where Jeno’s and Haechan’s cars are parked beside each other and stand behind the two cars, silently deliberating amongst yourselves.

“Well, I call shotgun.” Mark calls out, and Jeno unlocks his car, Mark sliding into the passenger seat.

“There’s no way all six of us are gonna cram into Jeno’s car,” Yeri remarks incredulously.

“Yeah, definitely not, because my middle backseat’s seat belt isn’t working and the airbag sensors are fucked up, so it’s a seat belt or nothing in my car.” Jeno laments, and your skin starts to crawl as you realize where this might be heading.

“So your car only seats four… and there are six of us…” you say slowly, pulling the lollipop from your lips with a muted wet pop that has Haechan eyeing you like a lion about to corner the slowest gazelle of the herd. Usually, there are seven of you, so even if you had to ride with Haechan, there’d be a third body present in the form of the lovably boisterous Yurin.

Curse Yurin’s midterms, and curse Yurin for sending that text, and curse yourself for leaving your phone where Haechan could see, and curse Haechan for being nosy—

“I’ll ride with Haechan,” Karina offers, noticing the way you become more and more quiet as you sink further into your worries.

“No, you won’t.” Haechan says, leaning against his passenger door. Everyone looks over at him, and he just pushes off of the door, opening it and pointing directly at you. “Get in.”

“Oh, gosh.” you mumble, and you’re not sure if it’s the weed effect making you feel sluggish or you’re really that apprehensive, but you feel a bit like a puppet with sandbags for shoes, your feet hesitantly shuffling, dragging, scuffling towards Haechan’s passenger door.

“It’s an eight-minute drive,” Yeri calls to you sympathetically, and you nod, shooting her a feeble thumbs up that you don’t even believe. “We’ll see you soon!”

“Yeah,” you croak, feeling very much like a lamb being led to slaughter, and Haechan smiles sweetly at you, baring all his teeth as you sit in his car. He closes the passenger door and crosses over to the driver’s side, opening the door and getting in.

When Haechan finishes settling down into the driver’s seat, checking his mirror views and pulling up the GPS to the diner, he straps himself in and looks over at you, eyes scanning your frame for something—you don’t quite know what. Seemingly done with his inspection, he leans closer to you without warning and reaches for the seat belt buckle in your chair, pulling it out and over your body as he clicks it into place. The whole while, he’s invading your personal space, your breath catching in your throat as you realize his face is close enough to yours that you could probably count his lashes if you wanted to.

He turns his head ever so slightly, eyes locking on yours, and you blink rapidly in alarm, rendered immobile as he studies your face.

“You look so cute, all innocent and helpless like this.” he murmurs softly, and the tiniest of squeaks escapes you, his eyes flashing with glee at the sound. “Now stop looking at me like that,” he warns, “or I’ll kiss you.”

You blanch, trying immediately to make any other expression than the one you didn’t even know you were sporting, and he chuckles before sitting back in his seat and starting his car. He turns the air conditioning on—a strange choice, considering it’s a bit nippy outside—and pulls out of his spot, starting to drive towards the diner.

It doesn’t take long for you to get cold, goosebumps gradually appearing on your arms and legs, but you’re a bit too nervous to say anything, instead suffering in silence. You clasp your hands together in your lap, rubbing them together for warmth, and, as he stops at a red light, Haechan looks over at you, watching in fascination as you shift in your seat for any sort of friction that could warm you. After a moment, you notice his eyes fixated pointedly on your chest, and you spare a glance down to see, to your alarm, that your nipples are hard, starting to poke through your clothing, and you curse internally for wearing a thin, lacy bra that does nothing to conceal your stiffened buds.

He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, smirking in what seems like satisfaction, before refocusing his attention on the road. You cross your arms over your chest protectively, tucking your fingers into the crooks of your elbows as he drives down the road.

“We’re here,” he announces after some time, pulling into a parking spot in front of the diner and turning the car off. The cold air blowing through the vents shuts off, much to your relief, and you unbuckle your seat belt before he gets the chance, practically flinging yourself out of the car into the significantly less cold night air.

As you all file into the diner, you notice a man staring very pointedly at you and your bare legs and your chest, where your nipples have yet to go down.

Haechan scans the room, catches sight of the man, and follows his gaze back to where you stand, his jaw clenching.

“Put this on,” Haechan murmurs, shrugging off his jacket and offering it to you. You start to take it, eager for warmth, but pause, looking at him suspiciously.

“Why?”

His gaze flicks over your shoulder at where the man from earlier sits, and understanding dawns on you. “Just—put it on for me?”

You nod, gratefully accepting the jacket, and Haechan steps closer, draping it over your shoulders and helping you put your arms through the sleeves.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, and he nods.

“You look cute in my jacket.” he remarks with a small smirk, and your cheeks warm.

“Thank you,” you mumble, and he trails his tongue along his bottom lip before gesturing for you to follow after him with a jerk of his head, a quick peek past him revealing the hostess who’s arrived to take you all to your seats.

When you arrive at the booth, Haechan’s right by you, gesturing for you to go in first. You do so without complaint, preferring the inner seat anyway, but it’s when Haechan slides in next to you that you realize your mistake as he closes you into the booth corner, the main obstacle between you and freedom from, well, him.

As the hostess passes out menus and you all start to look them over, you feel the side of his hand resting against the side of your thigh, making you attempt to shift away from his hand, the touch too intimate for you to handle at the moment.

Somehow, his hand finds its way back against your leg, palm turned up slightly as he lightly grazes his fingertips along your thigh, and you suck in a sharp breath, doing your best to pass it off as a cough when Haechan looks over at you, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I think I’m gonna get the breakfast platter,” Yeri says excitedly. “It comes with pancakes, eggs prepared how you want them, homefries, and your choice of meat.”

“That sounds so good,” you reply thoughtfully. “I think I want a burger.”

“Yeah, a burger sounds good,” Haechan agrees, eyes slowly sliding over to study your reaction as he flattens his palm against your leg, slowly sliding it up to caress your upper thigh. Your reaction must be nothing short of rewarding, as you jolt so forcefully that you shake the table slightly, and he chuckles softly.

“You okay, girl?” Karina asks, worried, and you nod, swallowing thickly.

“I just, um…felt a tickle on my ankle. Thought it was a bug or something.” you mumble, and she nods, eyebrows still furrowed in concern.

“I know I said waffles earlier, but I kind of want these barbecue ribs,” Karina says, pointing at an entry on the menu, but you can barely make your gaze focus on where her finger touches the menu because Haechan’s hand is still very much on your thigh, and to make matters worse, you think you like it.

His hand slides up higher, the side of his thumb slipping under the hem of your skirt, and you raise your glass to your lips in an attempt to act natural, hoping and praying no one notices the way your hand is shaking slightly.

Haechan leans in closer to you, murmuring in your ear, “This must be a dream come true for you, huh?” He grips your thigh firmly, not even attempting to play it off as a casual touch anymore, and you barely manage to stifle your yelp of surprise in time. “Must have been wanting this for so long,” he breathes secretively, smiling lips grazing the shell of your ear so subtly, no one else would notice unless they were paying unnaturally close attention.

You, however, do notice. Not only do you notice, but you suck in a sharp breath of surprise, the sudden movement making the water in your cup slosh forward and spill out slightly, a few droplets dripping down your chin.

You suck your teeth in mild irritation, glaring at Haechan as you reach for your napkin, but he’s faster, his free hand coming up and wiping the liquid off of your chin.

“Um, thanks.” you mumble, and he nods, locking eyes with you as he licks at the pad of his thumb, cleaning off the water droplets with his mouth. “Oh, dear Neptune.” you whisper to yourself, feeling more and more overwhelmed by the moment. “Where is this waitress—I need to eat something.”

“Yeah, we should let her know we’re ready to order,” Mark says, waving a hand out to flag down the waitress. As she approaches, you sneak a peek at Haechan, whose expression is surprisingly calm and neutral given the sensual, slow circles he’s drawing on your upper thigh with his thumb.

Haechan’s hand slips further in between your legs, getting dangerously close to your core, and you decide that’s enough play time for him, clamping your legs together forcefully.

“You trapped my hand, pretty girl,” he points out with a growing grin, and you ignore him even as he continues, “I didn’t know you liked it that much.”

You still don’t give him a response, staring stubbornly out the booth window, and he chuckles before withdrawing his hand from your legs with such ease that you wonder if he was ever really stuck there.

“Oh, we’re doing the silent treatment? Copy that.” he muses, nodding slowly in understanding, and you can’t help but wonder what else he has in store for you.

Today, the energy in the room is entirely different—and you don’t like it one bit.

Haechan won’t even acknowledge you today; his eyes skip over you when he scans the room like you’re not even there, or, worse, he seems to be looking completely through you at times, completely unaffected by your presence.

“Girl, did you piss Haechan off or something?” Yeri whispers to you, and your brows knit together as you shake your head. “He hasn’t made a single move on you all day.”

“I know,” you mutter bitterly.

“Maybe he’s sick,” Karina supplies in an attempt to help, but her words practically fall on deaf ears as you stare burning holes into the side of his face as he laughs at something Mark said.

“I’m about to be sick,” you mumble, your stomach twisting uncomfortably as your somewhat secret crush that used to be obsessed with you treats you like you’re nothing more than a couch cushion.

You don’t know what’s come over you, but when Haechan gets up and heads towards the kitchen. you find yourself standing to follow, mumbling that you’ll be right back to Karina.

Haechan stands with his back to you at the kitchen island, pouring a can of something—it looks like Monster—into a glass, and you take a moment to admire his slender yet lean build, the curve of his shoulders and the perfectly mussed up state of his hair—

“I know you’re there, you know.” he says calmly, and your eyes widen as you immediately attempt to look busy doing anything other than blatantly ogling him. He turns right when you’ve reached for a bag of Ruffles chips and raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You have something you want to say?”

“What do you mean?” you ask, slightly thrown off-guard, and he blinks at you impassively.

“I noticed you staring at me,” is all he says in response, and you blanch, pursing your lips carefully.

“Haechan, are you mad at me?” you ask softly, and he smirks.

“And why do you ask that?”

You fidget with the hem of your skirt nervously, averting your gaze to look at the granite countertop. “Well, you… haven’t talked to me all night.”

Haechan doesn’t say anything for a concerningly long time, prompting you to look up at him and immediately wish you hadn’t. He looks beyond smug, and painfully attractive as he leans in slightly, not close enough to get in your space but close enough to send a thrill down your spine.

“You were giving me the silent treatment the other day, right?” he reminds you, and you hesitate, realizing you were the cause for his radio silence. “I was just returning the favor.”

“Well, don’t.” you say with a frown, and he raises his eyebrows, amused and surprised.

“Why not? Did you miss me or something?” he teases, and you balk, losing all your nerve as quickly as you’d found it.

“No!” you answer quickly, and he arches an eyebrow skeptically, prompting you to continue, “No, I just—”

“You and I don’t really talk much, anyway,” Haechan muses, leaning his back against the island as he regards you with a cocky glint in his eyes. “So what is it you really miss, hm?”

“Well—” you struggle to find your words, and something softens in Haechan’s gaze, the cocky twinkle now accompanied with a smile bordering dangerously on fondness.

“You miss me messing with you, don’t you?” he asks, and at your lack of response, nods in confirmation. “You miss me touching you?” he questions, dragging out the syllables excruciatingly slowly. He sucks his teeth when you still don’t reply and says, “I know you do. You know you do. Now just admit it.”

“I can’t,” you protest weakly, and he shrugs, raising his hands in surrender.

“You want me to touch you again? Give me what I want.” He sounds dead serious and painfully unwavering on his stance, prompting you to whimper quietly to yourself, too wrapped up in your own nerves to notice the way his eyes darken at the sound of your desperation.

“I want you to touch me.” you mumble shamefully, and his lips quirk up into the beginnings of a smile.

“Come here; say it again.” he urges, beckoning you closer, and you hesitate, making a challenge flash in his expression before he’s poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek and chuckling. “Don’t make me come over there.”

“I want you,” you say, “to touch me,” you repeat your words from earlier, trying desperately to look anywhere but at him.

You can see him crossing the distance between you in your peripheral vision, your insides tensing with anticipation as he gets closer and closer. To your utter disappointment, he continues to walk as if he’s going to pass you, only pausing to tilt his head to the side in a patronizing display of faux sympathy.

“Good girl. Now, was that so hard?” he chuckles, not even giving you a chance to respond before he continues his path out of the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

What in the absolute hell did you just get yourself into?

You’re coming back from the bathroom when you quite literally almost run into Haechan in the hallway.

“Sorry,” you say, stepping to the side to get past, but he steps to the same side. You laugh awkwardly before stepping to the other side, only for him to do the same, his movements far too calculated to be a mistake, and you come to the realization that he’s intentionally blocking your path. “Haechan?” you ask quietly, nervousness creeping into your voice, and he chuckles.

He takes a step towards you, prompting you to take a cautious one backwards, and his smile widens as he advances on you, slowly but surely herding you back towards the bathroom. When your back hits the nearby wall, your eyes widen, and he mocks you, briefly widening his eyes in faux surprise before flicking his brows up suggestively and placing one hand on the wall by your head on the side you could escape from, successfully trapping you in a makeshift corner.

“You’re so cute, really.” Haechan sighs, smiling fondly at you, but there’s a devious twinkle in his eye as he regards you.

As he closes in on you, your body is alight with nerves and anticipation, and you decide to try again, feebly calling, “...Haechan?”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he quiets you soothingly, reaching up with his free hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Don’t act like you don’t want this, baby.” As if to prove his point, he presses his knee between your legs, thigh pressing up against your clothed core, and a poorly restrained moan bubbles up in your throat.

“Haechan—” you whine, and he shoots you a smug smile.

“See, baby? I know you want it. You know I want it. That’s why you always wear these tiny fucking skirts whenever you come over,” he states, hand dropping from your face to tug at the hem of your skirt, and you gasp—both at the sudden yanking and the insistent pressing of his thigh against your core. “You like it when I do this. Bet you were waiting for me to slip my hands under your skirt to touch you.”

“Mm-mm,” you protest, but the way your hips move against him, rolling back and forth and grinding wantonly in search of relief, is telling another story, Haechan arching a brow skeptically.

“Mm, no? You don’t like it? But, wait… what was that you said in the kitchen earlier?” he questions, a taunting lilt to his words. “‘I want you to touch me,’” he echoes your earlier request in a poor imitation of your voice. “Well, I’m touching you, baby—don’t you like it?” When your only reply is a small nod, he shakes his head disapprovingly, gaze darkening. “Words.”

“Yes,” you whimper, breath catching in your throat when he rewards you with a firm upwards press of his thigh into your core. Your movements speed up slightly as you feel that familiar tightening sensation in your abdomen, your climax not far ahead.

“Are you gonna cum just like this?” he asks, and there’s a hint of amusement to his words but it’s almost entirely overtaken by the heavy desire in his voice.

“Mm-hm,” you whine softly, your desperation peaking as your high gets closer and closer.

“Beg me to let you cum.” he urges, and you’re already so far gone that your shame is all but done away with.

“Please, Haechan, can I cum?” you pant urgently, a slight pleading quality to your words as you feel the beginnings of your climax, pleasure blooming between your legs in a gush of warmth. “Please?” you whimper, and something in him snaps, Haechan lurching forward and cupping your face in his hands to hold you in place as he kisses you deeply, his tongue tracing along your lower lip as you tremble and moan weakly into his mouth.

When you move to pull away to breathe, he clutches your face more firmly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and exploring at his leisure, all the while ignoring your muffled, plaintive cries for air.

“Haechan, I can’t breathe,” you rasp out finally, and he lets you go with a shaky inhale and an unmistakable reluctance.

“You are so goddamn addicting.” he pants, and his hands drop to your hips, resuming the motions you weren’t aware you’d stopped. “Keep going.”

His hands keep guiding your movements, practically dragging you back and forth on his thigh as he kisses you again. This kiss is messier than the last as he sucks on your tongue and pulls back to trail his lips down your neck, stopping just above your pulse point and sucking hard, a gasp escaping you at the pleasurable sensation.

“Mine,” he grunts against your throat, sinking his teeth into a new patch of skin and sucking there, too, without a doubt leaving some form of mark behind. “All fucking mine.” he repeats, clutching your hips tighter and dragging you up his leg and closer to him, lips parting from your neck with a loud, wet pop and connecting with yours eagerly. “Gonna fucking ruin you, princess.”

“Hae—” you barely get the first syllable of his name out before he’s sealing his mouth over yours again, fingers creeping into the kiss to pry your mouth open.

“Open,” he mutters, brows furrowed in concentration. When you oblige, he taps your tongue impatiently until you let it hang out of your mouth, Haechan sucking in a deep breath as he eyes you appreciatively. Without any warning or preamble, Haechan spits directly onto your tongue, and you whimper, voice cracking slightly. “Swallow. I’m gonna do it again.” You swallow his saliva, the extra moisture in your mouth jarring but not unwelcome, and return to your previous pose of your mouth open with your tongue hanging out.

He grins and leans in again, hovering over your waiting tongue as he drops a long, clear string of saliva from his puckered lips down to your mouth. “Don’t swallow.” He pulls back from you slightly and pushes his middle and ring finger into your mouth, the cool silver of his ring catching your taste buds as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, gliding them against your tongue to collect as much wetness as he can. “Good girl,” he coos, pleased, and you’re embarrassed by the rush of warmth between your legs that appears at the praise. “Need them nice and wet for you.”

Not wasting a minute, he snakes his slick, spit-covered fingers past the band of your underwear and starts to stroke over your folds, digits gliding amongst your arousal with embarrassing ease.

“You’re a mess down here,” he remarks, eyes alight with glee and something wild, primal as he teases you. “You like me that much? Hm?” He seems not to need an answer as he grins cockily at you, eyes scanning your face intently to drink in your every reaction to his touch, no matter how small. He trails his fingers up, up, up until he’s brushing the underside of your clit, and you jolt, flinching away.

“Haechan, that’s sensitive—”

“I know, baby,” he coos. “That’s exactly why I’m doing it.” With the hand not currently in your underwear, he laces his fingers with yours, the back of his hand pressed against the palm of your own, and trails your linked hands down your body to join his other hand in your underwear. “Show me,” he rasps, and you blink at him, too far gone to fully understand exactly what he means. “Show me how you do it when you’re alone—when you think of me.”

Cheeks blazing, you realize you’re in no position to refuse, so you guide his hand into massaging your clit in circles, your abdomen tensing reflexively whenever his fingers graze the sensitive underside of your clit.

“Talk to me, baby.” he urges gently, and you whine in protest, the fire in your face increasing nearly tenfold. “Wanna hear that pretty voice tell me how you touch your little pussy.”

“I just rub it in circles like this,” you mumble, voice slightly husky with desire, and the shift doesn’t go unnoticed, if the intensifying of Haechan’s gaze means anything.

“You don’t go inside?” he asks softly, and you shake your head.

“Doesn’t feel good when I do it,” you whimper, and he sucks in air sharply, swearing under his breath as he watches your face twist in pleasure. It’s all too much for you, having his undivided attention on you like this, and you look away, a shudder traveling through your body as another climax approaches.

“Look at me,” he coaxes, and you reluctantly oblige, pleading eyes locking on his as your peak gets closer by the second. “Only look at me.”

“Okay,” you agree, the last syllable coming out like more of a squeak, and he smiles brilliantly, the hand not pleasuring you slipping out of your underwear and lifting your shirt up to reveal your breasts in your thin, lacy light blue bra. Leaning down, he wraps his lips around one of your nipples through the fabric and starts to suck, tongue swirling around the stiffening bud so wetly that his saliva starts to darken the fabric, the warmth of his spit seeping through the fabric.

He sucks at your nipples with an almost ferocity, alternating breasts like he can’t get enough of either, and his hand snakes around your back to unclasp your bra, Haechan pushing the garment out of the way as soon as it’s loose and latching onto your nipple with a low groan of satisfaction.

As he flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue, his fingers stroke you closer and closer to your high until you’re so close you can practically taste the sweet, heady feeling of ecstasy. “Show me what you sound like when you cum, baby.”

“Oh—shit—oh, my God,” you hiss as your eyes screw shut tight, pleasure coursing through your body as your orgasm travels through your system. “Feels so good,” you whimper, and he hums in agreement.

“Say my name, baby.”

“Haechan—” you moan wantonly, and he lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl as he tugs at your nipple with his teeth.

He doesn’t stop attending to your breasts until he’s certain he’s milked every last second of bliss from your body, alternating between sucking and flicking and swirling his tongue around the buds until you go limp, your body slumping against the wall for support.

Finally, he pulls his arousal-coated fingers from your underwear, trailing them over your bottom lip before pushing the digits into your mouth to suck.

You do so with an embarrassing amount of eagerness, and are just as surprised as Haechan when he pulls his fingers from your mouth and you whine in protest.

His brows shoot up into his hairline and you feel heat blazing furiously in your cheeks as he regards you with a mix of surprise and an expression that looks close to impressed.

“You like to suck, yeah?” he murmurs, and you nod hesitantly. Something flashes in his dark eyes, and he grins. “Wanna suck something bigger?”

Hesitant but undoubtedly excited, you nod, and he wets his lips before setting about unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans.

As he does, you slowly sink to your knees, and when he looks up from his pants to see you kneeling before him, he lets out a loud swear that you fear might blow your cover.

As you stare in awe at his impressive size, you realize you’re less worried about getting caught than you are about having to stop. He watches you watch him with amusement and fascination, but the undercurrent of desire runs strong as he clicks his tongue to get your attention.

You look up at him, and he licks his lips, exhaling a small puff of air before wrapping a hand around his base.

“This is the prettiest sight I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he praises, and you smile, heat rising to your cheeks once more. Lowering himself slightly, he cups your breasts, pressing them together and grunting, “I’m gonna fuck these one day. But now?” he says, releasing them and stroking your chin affectionately. “I’m gonna fuck this pretty mouth.”

“You ever suck someone off, baby?” he asks in a low voice, and you shake your head, making his eyes slide shut in bliss as he squeezes himself harder. “Fuck, I’m your first?”

“Yes,” you mumble shyly, and he coos affectionately at you, leaning down slightly to cup your chin with his free hand.

“Remember when you were sucking that little lollipop the other day?” he asks, and you nod. “It’s kind of like that. Use your tongue, and the wetter it is, the better.”

You nod carefully and sit forward, letting your jaw drop open.

“Fuck, baby. Tongue out for me?” he grunts, and you oblige, letting your tongue drop out of your mouth and lie flat for him. “So good, baby, just like that,” he encourages, leaning forward and guiding the head of his cock into your mouth.

It feels strange but not unwelcome, and you suck gently at the head of his cock, more focused on using your tongue to explore the intrusion in your mouth. Based on the way Haechan’s breathing shallows and quickens, you suspect you’re doing a pretty good job.

“Baby, you’re so good at this,” he groans, his head tipping back before it snaps back up as he seemingly realizes he’d rather watch you. “Mouth looks so pretty wrapped around my cock like that.”

You can only manage a whimper as you boldly press forward, taking more of his length into your mouth, and he sucks in a sharp breath as you swirl your tongue around his length before tentatively flicking it over the slit in the head of his cock. He groans weakly and, emboldened, you do it again, Haechan letting out a delicious little grunt that spurs you to kick it up another notch.

You start to bob your head, doing your best to alternate between bobbing and licking, and Haechan shudders deeply, his hand releasing the rest of his cock and moving to cup the back of your head, fingers slipping into your hair.

“Just like that—fuck—” he hisses, biting his lip as he watches you suck him off, skill increasing with every movement. When you push forward a bit too suddenly, eager to impress him, you choke briefly on his length, throat constricting slightly as your gag reflex activates slightly. “Oh, shit—”

Despite the slight ache to the back of your throat, you keep sucking, moving forward slower this time to allow your throat time to adjust to his size. When you massage the underside of his tip with your tongue, wet muscle gliding over the ridge of skin, he moans your name and it’s one of the most rewarding sounds you think you’ve ever heard.

“So good,” he pants as you bob your head up and down, and his length twitches in your mouth, giving you a hint that he’s close. “Gonna cum, baby.”

You move your head faster, sucking his length to the best of your ability with all the tricks you just learned, and his fingers grip your hair tightly as he spills into your mouth, his hips sluggishly thrusting forward as he shallowly fucks your mouth.

“You,” he grunts, helping you to your feet so you’re face to face and kissing you deeply, “are a fast little learner.” His tongue slips between your lips and he explores your mouth eagerly, licking at your tongue and inner cheeks as you whimper, dizzied by the fervor of his kisses.

“Baby,” he mumbles into the kiss, the urgency in his voice waking you up slightly, “I wanna eat you out. Can I taste you, princess?” When you nod, he grins brilliantly. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

He drops to his knees and slides his hands up from your ankles, hands slipping under your skirt to caress your hips. Pulling your underwear off, he drapes one of your legs over his shoulder, warm, slender fingers spreading apart your folds to get a better look at you.

When you whine softly in embarrassment, he shushes you gently, murmuring, “I just want to admire you for a second, baby, please?” He ducks his head under your skirt and sucks in a sharp breath when he’s met with the sight of your core, folds glistening with your arousal. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he breathes in awe, and before you can reply, his mouth is on you, upper lip resting just above your clit as his tongue strokes along your folds indulgently.

“Oh, my God,” you whisper, stumbling back slightly to lean against the wall behind you. Haechan moves with you fluidly, massaging your clit with his tongue as his fingers clutch your thighs, kneading the flesh with greedy, rough movements.

Tongue moving downwards towards your entrance, he prods the tip of it against your hole, chuckling when you jolt and squirm under his actions. “Don’t be shy, baby, I just want to taste.”

You nod even though he can’t see you, and he must be able to tell, because his tongue pushes forward, slowly breaching your entrance. You suck in a loud breath as his tongue delves further into you, occasionally coming out to slurp up the arousal dripping from your hole.

“Tastes so good, baby,” he moans, his nose rubbing against your clit as he slowly starts to move his tongue in and out inside of you. The feeling is strange but amazing, a slightly ticklish element to the pleasure you’re receiving as he tongue-fucks you.

Slurping loudly and moaning even louder, Haechan loses himself in your core, alternating between tongue-fucking you and licking at your folds and clit, leaving sloppy wet kisses that make your mind spin.

“Yeah, you like that?” he grunts, sucking at your clit hard before slipping his tongue out to stroke the sensitive underside of the sensitive bud. “You like when I kiss your pretty pussy? Hm? Do you like it when I make out with your sweet little pussy?”

“Yes,” you whimper, fingers clutching at his head over your skirt. When you get a good grip on him, you start to pull him closer, wanting more of his touch.

“Always so good—so shy and innocent.” Haechan murmurs, words slightly muffled from his oral ministrations on your pussy. “Now look at you; look how bad you’re being.”

“Haechan, please,” you breathe, and he turns his head to suck at your inner thighs, no doubt leaving a mark or two in his wake.

“Wanna see just how bad I can make you be.” he coos before surging forward to lap at your core eagerly, losing himself once more in the taste of you. “Fucking delicious, baby, you taste so good for me.”

He sucks and licks and kisses—even nibbles a bit—until your legs are shaking and your grip on his hair is iron-clad. You briefly consider the extremely compromising position someone might find you in if one of your friends walked down the hall and are surprised to find that not only do you not care, but there’s even a smidge of excitement when you think about getting caught like this, with Haechan’s head under your skirt and your breasts exposed.

“Haechan, I’m—I think I’m gonna—” you pant out, and he nods fervently, tongue slipping out of your entrance to flick your clit back and forth rapidly, a sharp whine slipping from you.

“Cum for me, baby—cum all on my tongue.” he urges, pulling you closer as he feverishly laps at your clit and entrance, shaking his head from side to side rapidly to run his tongue along your core back and forth. “That’s it, pretty girl, just let go.” he purrs, coaxing your climax out of you, and you do just that, letting the coil wound tight in your abdomen snap and letting the pleasure flood through your body.

“Haechan—” you whimper, and he hums soothingly as his tongue massages your clit once more, thoroughly milking your orgasm for all its worth. When the trembling of your legs has calmed down slightly and you’ve started to breathe normally once more, he pops his head out from under your skirt and winks up at you, chin and lips covered in your arousal.

“You’re addicting, baby; could eat your pussy for hours.” he says as he rises to his feet. A look downwards grants you the sight of his erection, fully hard once more, and you swallow thickly before looking up at him only to see that he’s already watching you with a small grin on his face. “Think you can handle one more?”

You’re nodding before you even realize it, and Haechan beams at you, drawing closer and closer until you’re flat against the wall.

Nudging your legs apart, he settles between them and aligns his tip with your entrance, looking up from where your bodies meet to your face.

“Ready, baby?” he asks, and you nod carefully, eyes drifting back down from his face to where the thick head of his length presses against your core. “Good girl,” he breathes before pushing into you slowly, covering your mouth with his palm as you gasp out loudly. “Baby, they’ll catch us if you keep making noise like that.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, but it’s a muffled apology given that Haechan’s hand is still firmly clasped over your mouth. “So full,” you whisper in awe, and he chuckles lowly in your ear, lips pressing to the spot just behind your lobe.

“Feel so tight around me, baby,” he grunts, his labored breathing in your ear telling you that he’s just as affected as you are. “So fucking good—”

“Haechan, move,” you whisper urgently as he bottoms out in you, and he obliges, pulling out to the tip and pushing into you again. A loud whoosh of air escapes your lungs, and he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, making you let out a loud whimper that would have been much louder had Haechan’s hand not muffled it.

“I’m starting to think you want to get caught.” Haechan murmurs with a smile on his lips as he kisses along your jaw and moves his hand to kiss you.

“Mm—! No, I don’t—” you insist through your cries of pleasure, and he shakes his head with a taunting grin.

“Yes, you do,” he teases. “You want all our friends to come in this hallway and see me fucking you like the perfect little fuckdoll I always knew you could be.”

“Hae–chan—” you stutter, tiny noises leaving you with every powerful thrust of his hips. He’s so good, so big and thick, and he’s filling you up just right and hitting all the right places, and it becomes too much very quickly, an overwhelming amount of pleasure rushing through your body as he fucks into you. If it couldn’t get worse for you, he reaches between you two and his fingers find your clit, rubbing it in quick circles just like you showed him earlier. “Fuck—stop—too much—”

“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?” he coos, shifting himself to angle his hips into you just right so that every snap of his hips sends his tip fucking directly into your g-spot.

You feel warmth behind your eyes, the telltale pricking at the corners that you know all too well, and the first tear drops before you can wipe it away, another tear following after that as the pleasure all but consumes you.

“Aw, baby, don’t cry, it feels good,” he consoles you, reaching up with his free hand to wipe your tears away.

“So good—too good—” you babble, and he laughs at that, brows furrowing at the end as you clench around him.

“It can’t be too good, baby—you’re not making sense anymore.” he says with a playful lilt, and you whimper, more tears falling as you sniffle pathetically. “Fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry.”

“Wanna cum—Haechan, please let me cum—” you beg, and his movements stutter, Haechan looking at you in surprise.

“Yeah? Baby wants to cum?” he grunts, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as your walls flex around him again. “Fuck, I love when you do that—feels so good—cum for me, baby.”

Not needing to be told twice, you promptly fall apart around him with a messy string of swears and “please” and utterances of Haechan’s name as your nails dig into his forearm, making him wince slightly. You’re sure you look a mess, eyes wet and glossy as tears stream down your cheeks, but Haechan’s drinking in your appearance like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Baby—I’m close—fuck—” Haechan grunts. “Gonna cum—where do you want it?”

“Want it inside of me, please—” you croak weakly, and he lets out a sound that’s a mix between a smug chuckle and a moan.

“Can’t believe you were skittish as a mouse just the other day, and now you’re begging for my cum. Want me to fill you up?” he pants, hips driving into yours with reckless abandon.

“Please—” you whimper, and he swears under his breath.

“Fuck—take it all, baby,” he urges, hips pressing into yours as he buries himself in you and empties his load. “It’s all for you,” he says breathlessly as his length twitches inside of you.

He stays inside of you for a moment, both of you attempting to catch your breath, before he slowly pulls out, tucking himself back into his pants and helping you fix your skirt back into place. To your confusion, he hooks his fingers in your underwear, pulling the thin, arousal-soaked fabric down and off your legs.

“Um…” you start, and Haechan looks over at you, brows raised expectantly. “Those are mine,” you state, pointing at the fabric in his fist.

“And now,” he hums, bringing them to his face and inhaling deeply, eyes sliding shut in bliss just in time to miss your scandalized expression. “They’re mine. C’mon; you should use the bathroom.”

He loops his fingers around yours, other hand stuffing your underwear in his back pocket as he leads you to the bathroom.

When the door closes behind you, you sit down on the toilet with slightly shaky legs, taking a moment to think about everything that just occurred.

You would have never in a million years thought that you’d have sex with Haechan, let alone in the hallway—let alone, with your friends in the very next room. However, as you think over the events that just transpired, your body is filled with a warm thrum of satisfaction, and you can’t seem to find an ounce of regret.

“Girl, where the hell were you?!” Karina exclaims, fussing over you as soon as you reappear in the living room. “We’ve been texting and calling for ages!”

“Oh,” you mumble, pulling your phone from the little pocket in your skirt. “It’s been on Do Not Disturb,” you explain sheepishly, and Karina rolls her eyes hard.

“Don’t do that again. You had us worried sick. What were you even doing for so long?”

“Um… well, Haechan and I,” you start, casting a side glance to the couch where Haechan sits and hesitating slightly when you see that he’s watching you intently, not an ounce of shame in his expression. “We hooked up.” you say finally, straightening your back slightly and standing up taller.

Yeri’s jaw drops. “About damn time.” she remarks, and you narrow your eyes at her.

“Hush, you.” you huff, looking over at where Haechan sits once more. He locks eyes with you and grins, patting the empty spot next to him and wiggling his eyebrows playfully, and you smile, looking away from him to address your bewildered friends. “I’ll explain everything later—”

“Yeah, yeah, just go, girl.” Karina chuckles. “He’s waiting,” she sing-songs, and you elbow her slightly before shooting them a bright smile and a small wave and making your way to sit next to Haechan.

When you sit down, Haechan drapes his arm around you on the back of the couch, and you can feel the heat creeping to your cheeks.

“So,” he says carefully, taking a hit of his pen and exhaling slowly before he continues, “I know this is a little backwards of me, but… do you wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”

“I’d like that,” you reply with a bashful smile, and he grins, relieved.

“Great. Now in the meantime,” he says, looking pointedly towards the hallway before looking back at you expectantly, “I have a nice ass TV, snacks, and a strong ass edible with your name on it in my room. You down?”

You don’t even hesitate. “I’m down.” you agree, smile widening, and he nods, satisfied. He stands from the couch and offers you his hand, which you take as he pulls you to your feet.

As you trail after him towards his room, fingers still locked with his, you can’t help but notice the familiar peek of fabric sticking out of his back pocket, and your eyes widen in alarm.

“Haechan!” you whisper loudly, and he looks back at you with raised brows. “My, um, underwear is sticking out of your pocket.”

“So?” he answers simply, and you pause, brain buffering for a moment.

“So?”

“Yeah. No one knows it’s your underwear but you and me,” he points out as you reach his bedroom door. He swings it open and gestures for you to enter first, head dipping down to your ear as you pass by. “So it’s our little secret.”

“Oh,” you mumble, thinking it over. “Okay.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says encouragingly, guiding you to his bed and gesturing for you to sit down. “Now, what do you want to watch?”

“Uh, we can watch Family Guy,” you suggest, and he looks at you, pleasant surprise written on his handsome features, before he nods and picks up the TV remote.

“Good choice,” he praises, sitting down beside you against the headboard of his bed. “Perfect show to play in the background while we make out.”

“Oh—” you stammer, blinking in surprise, and he snorts, eyes fond as he scans your bashful demeanor.

“I’m kidding.” he assures you, and you can’t help but frown slightly. Unfortunately for you, this doesn’t go unnoticed by Haechan, and he chuckles. “You wanted to make out, didn’t you?”

“A little bit,” you mumble, and he grins, leaning in closer to you.

“That can be arranged.” he murmurs, still smiling as his lips meet yours.

#haechan smut #nct smut #donghyuck smut #donghyeok smut #lee donghyeok x reader #lee donghyeok smut #lee haechan smut #haechan x reader #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #lee donghyuck x reader

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smutoperator · 3 months ago

Text

Stress Relief

Yu Jimin (Karina) x Male Reader

Tags: 69, airplanes, anal, ball play, big tits worship, birthday gift, body worship, creampies (anal and vaginal), cum on tits, (lots of) deepthroating, dirty talk, full nelson, massage, motorboating, oil, pile driver, pussy grinding, rimming, sloppy cocksucking, squatting, superslut, (plenty of) titfucking, tits, tits and more tits

Word count: 8662

Happy Karina Day!

After long months of touring, Karina needed stress relief. Her beautiful body was aching, and she wanted to relax after such a long, tiring schedule. After some long searching, she had finally found the right place to do that.

"Welcome to my massage clinic," you greeted Karina as she went to your room. "By the way, I saw that today is your birthday, so the massage is free," you told her. "Thank you," she politely said.

"Go to the shower and get your body wet; it's better for the massage," you commanded Karina, who obliged. She took her clothes off and poured some water on her beautiful nude body before grabbing some soap to massage her big tits as you waited for her outside.

Karina stayed for a few extra minutes in the shower, giving special attention to washing her massive boobs, shaking them as the water poured all over her jugs, before emerging from it wearing a towel.

"You won't need these today; here we only do massages without any clothes on," you told Karina, who took her towel out. Her body was truly wonderful from head to toe. Her lustful honey thighs, her hot, imposing frame, and, of course, her beautiful big tits.

"Get on the table," you said to Karina as she laid her hot body on the table, pressing her boobs against it. "This is going to feel so good; I've been needing one of these for a while," she told you, who started your massage running your hands over her body. "Your hands are such a good stress reliever," she said.

You brought some oil and poured it over Karina's back before running it down all the way to her legs. "I see your body is already very wet, but I'll help it get even wetter," you said, spreading the oil over her body as you massaged her. You pushed your hands closer to her arms and back, getting within striking distance of her big jugs, but not touching them yet.

"I'm feeling so relaxed now; you're hitting the perfect spots," Karina said to you. "Thank you," you replied, moving down and massaging her ass for the first time. "Oh God, that's so perfect," she said as you put your hands in there. "I'm making sure you'll feel really good and relieved of any stress, Rina," you told her.

You poured some extra oil close to Karina's genital area, massaging it very carefully to not touch her pussy, before moving down and placing your hands between her sexy thighs. Karina smiled as you added more oil, spreading her butt a bit and massaging her close to her asshole. "Ohhhh, like that? That's so amazing," she answered.

You finally made your move, massaging Karina's pussy and shoving a couple of fingers inside it. "Oh, fuck," she moaned as you dug deeper inside it. "Ahhhh, I love this massage; keep going, your hands are so good in my pussy," she told you.

"Oh my God, you're making my pussy so fucking wet, fuck," Karina said as you increased the speed on it. "Yes, baby, rub my clit like that," she told you. "Can you feel your pussy gripping around it?" you asked her. "Oh yes, I love the way it wraps around your fingers, fuck," she answered.

Karina moved just enough for you to grope her tits from behind the table. "Yes, rub my tits just like that," she said. "As you wish," you told her before moving around her waist. "Get up a bit," you told Karina, who got herself on all fours on the table, letting you massage her boobs. "Oh, that's perfect, your hands all over my tiddies, please them," she said just as the loud sound of an airplane flying over your outdoor massage clinic.

"Keep going, baby, worship those big fucking tiddies," Karina said as you now put both your hands on it. "Kiss me," she asked, you obliging and kissing her neck with your hands still all over her boobs. "Oh yeah, baby, rub my nipples," she said as you moved your attention towards them as you kept kissing her.

You kept playing with Karina's tits, pinching them and putting your hands between them. "Yes, squeeze them; I love that," Karina said as you pressed them with both hands. "Oh my God, just like that, play with them," she said as you increased the pace, making her boobs slap against each other before giving them a couple of slaps that made her moan.

"Ahhhh," Karina moaned. "Turn around," you told her as Karina lay on the table with her front fully exposed to you. You picked up some more oil, pouring it all over her boobs. "I love the sensation of it hitting my tits," Karina said, before you resumed your boob massage, your massive hands roughly the same size as her massive jugs.

"Let me take care of both of them," you told Karina, taking turns massaging her left and right boob. "Oh my God, that's so good," she said as you placed your hands right on her areolas before moving one of them down to her pussy. "Your body is so beautiful," you told her. "And I love your hands massaging it," she answered.

You spiced things up and moved your mouth towards Karina's left boob, sucking it for the first time. "Ohhhh yeah, yeah, wrap your mouth around it. I love the way that tongue fills, oh my god," Karina says as you move rather fast, quickly switching between her boobs and adding your tongue to the massage. "That's so fucking hot, ahhhh, yes," she says.

"Fucking swallow those tits," Karina commands as you suck them like a baby. "Keep going, take turns between them," she says as you sweep your tongue all over her boob area with another airplane passing by. "Slap them in your face," she tells you, and you oblige and hit them against your face. "You look so sexy doing that," she says. You kiss Karina a couple of times. "My tits taste so good in your mouth," she tells you as you move from behind, Karina suddenly making a request.

"I want your dick massaging my big tits," she says.

"As you wish," you tell Karina, pulling your pants down and kissing her. She opens her mouth for you to feed your cock to her, your hands all over her big tits while she chokes on it. "Yes, yes," you can hear her saying as it gets muffled by your big cock, Karina grabbing your shaft to deepthroat it.

"Put those balls in my face," Karina says, rubbing them against her mouth before you start fucking her face and hitting them against her chin. "Oh, it tastes so good," she says to you.

"You want more?" you ask Karina, who promptly answers. "Yes, I want it so bad, please, put it down my throat," she says, sticking her naughty tongue out. "There you go," you say, grabbing her waist and pushing your shaft down her throat, Karina spitting all over it as she gags on your cock just as another plane passes by.

Karina strokes your cock and shoves it in her mouth while you reach to massage her pussy. "Slap it in my face," she says, and you oblige before getting on top of her and sitting on her beautiful princess face as you get ready to fuck her amazing tits.

"Oh yeah, let me eat that ass," Karina says as she grabs your butt as soon as you sit on top of her. "Look at you, such a nasty girl," you tell her as Karina starts rimming you in perfect sync to your thrusts between her tits. "Yes, baby, fuck my tiddies while I lick this dirty ass," she commands, aggressively moving her tongue against your bunghole while you fuck her fun bags.

You pick up the pace on the titfucking as Karina licks your asshole. "That feels good," you say to her, squeezing her tits as hard as you can to increase the grip on your cock. "You're my little slut today, birthday girl," you tell her, plowing Karina's boobs hard and massaging them.

"No wonder they are so popular," you tell Karina as you quickly grow addicted to her big tits. "Oh baby, I love feeling those big tits between my cock," you tell her. "And I love feeling your balls hitting on my neck," Karina answers.

"Oh my God, lick my pussy just like that," Karina says as you bend over her body, stretching as hard as you can to eat her cunt out. She grabs your balls and pushes them to her mouth, sloppily sucking them as you lick her pussy. "Fuck, you eat my clit so good," she says.

Karina gets back on all fours on the table, turning around as you stand up and grab her hair to fuck her face, her big saggy boobs bouncing hard as she gets plowed.

"Get on that table; let me worship that big, fat cock," Karina tells you. "I can't wait to get that big fucking dick inside me," Karina says, stroking it as she kisses you. "I want you to fucking beg me for it," she continues.

"Nice and tight on that cock, yes baby," Karina says. "Are you ready to use me like a proper whore? To fuck me like a real man?" She asks you as she keeps pressing your balls with her hands.

Karina gets on top of you and kisses you, moving from top to bottom of your body before finding your cock. "Oh my gosh, I love this big fucking cock in my mouth; let me worship it," she says, throating it and spitting on it a few times. "Yeah, baby, fuck," you tell her as Karina gets very sloppy.

Karina puts a lot of pressure on your cock. "Grind it on my hands, that's what I want," she says as she squeezes it hard with both of them. "I'm gonna use every part of my body to please this dick," Karina promises, opening a bottle of oil and lubing it before pouring it on her tits.

"Getting those tits nice and tight around that cock, making it fucking throb," Karina says as she squeezes your shaft back between her tits. "Let me slam it down on that big fucking pipe," she continues as she moves her tits really fast, pushing you to the edge with an incredibly hot boobjob as her jugs smash against your hips.

You start pushing your cock upwards between Karina's boobs. "Just destroy these titties, use them like it's your personal fleshlight, look how perfect your cock is around them, it fits so well," she tells you, spitting on your cock as it pops out of her boobs. "Let me get it extra fucking wet; I love using that cock for my pleasure," she says, slowing it down.

"Fuck those titties like you mean it," Karina commands, making you push hard. "Use these fucking balloons," she says, shaking her boobs and smiling as you pound them, before rubbing your tip around her nipples and teasing you with some slaps. "Just what I deserve for my birthday, don't you think?" she asks you. "You definitely deserve it," you tell Karina. "Do you think I can earn that cum? cum?"she asks, jerking your tits off before pulling a move that would drive you insane.

Karina pushes the tip of your cock against the entrance of her pussy. "Ah, fuck," she says as she starts grinding your shaft against her clit. "Just teasing it, baby, I can't wait to feel it inside me," she says. However, as she moves her hips around your cock, you suddenly surprise her.

"Oh my God," Karina says as you explode all over her crotch, painting it with your seeds. "Poor baby, couldn't resist the urge for that tight little pussy," Karina says as she tastes your cum. "Delicious," she says. "But don't worry, baby, I'll give you another chance.

"Oh shittt," you scream as Karina deepthroats your cock, getting it instantly hard and cleaning the cum out of it. "You're such a good fucking slut," you tell her. You start pushing your cock against her throat, fucking her beautiful face. "Choke on it, slut," you tell her. "I love when you make me suffocate on it," she says, getting it even sloppier as she spits on your cock.

"Holy fuck, it's so hard again it can barely fit in my mouth," Karina says as you plow her face hard, making her let out gagging sounds. "MORE," she begs as you almost make her puke with your cock hitting the depths of her throat. "Let me get those fucking balls," Karina says, diving down and worshipping them as she strokes your cock".

Lick my fucking balls," you tell Karina, who gets really sloppy down there, taking your sack. "I'm a sloppy fuckwhore. You like when I stroke your cock like that?" Karina asks you, giving you a sexy stare. "Fuck, you taste so good, I'm so addicted to having those balls in my mouth," she says, getting back to sucking them.

"Are you ready to destroy this pussy, baby?" Karina asks you as she strokes your cock even harder. "Yes," you answer her. "Such a good boy. But first, you'll have to worship it," she answers.

Karina lies on the table and spreads her legs. You dive to lick her pussy, her pushing your head against her folds. "Yeah, baby, lick it like that, ahhh, YESSS, FUCKKK," she starts to moan. "Give that pussy what it needed, open that fucking pussy," she tells you as you pick up the pace.

"You're so good at that, yeah baby, make me fucking cum," Karina says as she grinds her hips against your face, her legs trembling. "OH FUCK, OH FUCK," she screams as you hit the perfect spots. "Play with it, use it like a fucking toy," she commands as she moans, her beautiful hair dropping down the table while her nipples get fully erect.

You keep tonguing Karina's clit as you put a pair of fingers up her cunt, earning you more praise from her. "You do it so well, so fucking amazing," she says. "FUCK," she screams again, you putting a lot of pressure in her folds and making her closer and closer to cum.

"YEAH, FUCKING WRECK THAT CLIT, OH MY GOD," Karina screams as you get her really wet. "You make my pussy feel really amazing; I love the way you worship me," she tells you.

"I want that fucking cock. I want it so fucking bad, please," Karina says as you now do the teasing, slapping it against the same clit that made you cum just moments ago. "I deserve it, please give me that birthday gift," she begs.

"AHHHH," Karina screams loudly as you finally put it in her pussy. "Right where it belongs," she tells you as you pin her long legs against her huge tits and fuck her in a missionary position. "Yeah, yeah," she screams, your cock hitting very deep on her as she fingers her clit.

"Give me every fucking inch, make me cream all over it, OH FUCK," Karina moans, grabbing her big tits and squeezing them together. "Oh yeah, right there," she tells you as you hit the perfect spot. "I love it so much," she says to you.

"Fucking use me," Karina begs as you continue to pump her pussy, her spreading it out for you while squeezing your cock inside of it. "Fuck, you're so fucking deep I can feel it in my stomach," she tells you. "That's what I like, that's what I fucking like; your cock is so perfect inside me," she continues to say as you fuck her at a very steady pace.

Karina kisses you as you two get engaged in more passionate fucking, but soon she gets back to the dirty talk. "Fuck me like a dirty slut, making me fucking cum," she commands as you push harder, clapping your body against hers.

"Hmmm, I love the way this pussy talks to me," you tell Karina as you hear queefing sounds coming out of her cunt. She rubs her clit, nodding as you pound her slowly but very deep. "FUCK, IT'S BULGING UNDER MY STOMACH. YOU FEEL SO GOOD INSIDE ME, OH MY GOD," she screams as you bury your cock inside her.

You massage Karina's big boobs as you keep fucking her. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," she screams. "That's what you want, isn't it?" you ask her. "YES, YES, THAT'S WHAT I WANT," she answers, her mouth wide open as your cock hits all her sensitive spots. "FUCK, YOU HIT ALL THE RIGHT PLACES," she screams.

"THAT DICK IS SO FUCKING HUGE, GIVE ME ALL," Karina screams as you make her boobs bounce hard at each thrust. "Such a good gift for me," she says. You turn your attention to her big, bouncy tits, slapping them as you fuck her. "YES, BABY, SLAP MY FUCKING TIDDIES, PLEASE," Karina begs as you hit them hard and make her scream.

"Oh my God, that's the best massage I've ever had," Karina tells you as you now choke her. "Tell me what you are," you say to her. "I'M YOUR DIRTY FUCKING WHORE, BABY," she answers you, rubbing her clit as you get rougher and rougher with her, but she always keeps smiling as your cock destroys her pussy just as she asked to.

"OH MY GOD, I'M GONNA CUM, I'M GONNA CUM," Karina tells you as she fingers her clit while you grope her tits hard. "FUCK, I'M CUMMING, THAT DICK IS SO FUCKING LONG," Karina screams as she creams all over your cock. "Looks like your pussy really loves it,"

"Please my nipples, baby," Karina says as you rub her tits after making her cum. "Turn around," you tell Karina, who quickly follows and puts her ass up for you. "Put it right back in there," she commands, you fucking her from behind and fingering her asshole. "AHHHH FUCK, YES," she screams as you spank her ass. You grab her waist and quickly pick up the pace, making her boobs jiggle hard. "FUCK, SLAP MY FUCKING ASS," she screams following another spanking.

"OH YEAH, BABY, PUT THAT FINGER IN MY ASSHOLE, OH MY GOD," Karina screams. "Fuck, stretch it out; that's such a good sensation," she tells you. "Look at you, such a good slut taking all that cock," you tell her.

"YES, BABY, KEEP MASSAGING MY HOLES," Karina screams as your thumb gets deeper in her asshole. Her moans get louder, her tits get bouncier. "It feels so good in my tight fucking pussy," she tells you. "I love how deep you go inside me," she continues.

Karina goes insane, moving her hips against your cock, before you decide to tame her, pinning her boobs against the table and pounding her hard. "FUCK, YES," she says, you thrusting so hard you almost lose your breath. You grab her arms, using her like a fuck toy and making her boobs bounce like a pinball at every thrust. "Fuck me hard like that," she tells you, pushing you to the limit.

"YES, YES, YES, YOU'RE FUCKING ME SO GOOD, DESTROY THAT FUCKING PUSSY." Karina screams as you start to groan, putting her into a crazy prone bone position, pinning her whole body, and fucking her so hard she has to slow you down a bit. She tries to push herself against your cock one more time, but you won't let her, using her like your perfect toy.

"Oh yeah, slide it in and out of it," Karina tells you. "Fucking use your body for my pleasure; you're so fucking perfect inside me," she continues. Her legs tremble again. "That's so fucking sexy," she then says. "FUCK, THAT'S SUCH A GOOD DICK," she continues to scream.

"You take my cock with such perfection," you tell Karina. "That's because I'm a whore, and you fuck me just like one," Karina answers you as you massage her shoulders. "FUCK, OH YES, JUST MAKE MY FUCKING TIDDIES BOUNCE WITH THAT DICK," Karina begs, you reaching from behind to grope them.

"OH YEAH, THAT'S THE BEST FUCKING FEELING IN THE WORLD," Karina tells you as you massage her big tits while stretching her out. You spank her ass again, clapping hard against her clit. "Make me feel every inch; that's so good," Karina tells you. "YES, YES, YES," she repeats as you attack her cunt, her putting one of her legs on the table and one out.

"FUCK YES, FUCK IT'S SO DEEP, YOUR COCK IS SO FUCKING LONG, AHHHH," Karina screams loudly. You grab her right leg. "OH MY GOD," she screams, you groping her tits as she stands on just one leg, Karina moaning like a whore as her cunt gets obliterated. "FUCKING DESTROY MY FUCKING HOLE," she screams, almost losing her balance.

"OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH FUCK, THAT FEELS SO FUCKING MAGICAL," Karina screams. "Goddamn," you groan as her cunt squeezes your cock. "I wanna feel my pussy all used up after this massage," she tells you as the pounding never ceases. "USE ME, YES, USE ME," she keeps begging, her boobs turned into loose balls. "That's so perfect," she continues.

You pin Karina against the table, smashing her tits hard. "I love that rock-hard dick inside my pussy," she tells you. "Fuck, stroke your cock inside my pussy," she begs you as you reach from behind to grab her boobs one more time. "SO DEEP, SO DEEP, OH FUCK," she screams. "It is where it's supposed to be," you tell her.

"Let me suck that fucking cock. I want you to fuck my face again," Karina says, getting on her knees and bobbing her head on it. "Take my balls," you tell her, making her gag. "Look how good you are worshipping them," you tell her before putting your right foot on the table and plowing her face, making her boobs jiggle hard for an amazing view.

"Show me how much you love that cock," you tell Karina as she keeps choking all over your cock, taking it balls deep in her mouth. "I'm so needy for this dick; it feels so good inside my throat," she tells you.

"Let's go for a ride," you tell Karina, lying on the table. But Karina wants to tease you a bit, letting you motorboat her while she strokes your cock. "Look how juicy that cock is," she tells you as you make loud noises between her shaking boobs. "You love those big tiddies in your face, don't you?" she asks you.

"How about you wrap them around my dick again?" you ask Karina, who moves to titfuck you a bit before she gets ready to ride on your cock. As she climbs on top of the table, she still teases you a little more. "Rubbing every inch of that fucking pussy," Karina says as she grinds your cock against her entrance one more time.

"Nice and slow," Karina says, spinning on your cock as she gets it back inside her. "Ohhhh," she moans as she lets herself get impaled in a reverse cowgirl position. "Oh yes, just feel that wet fucking pussy on you, baby," she says as she moves with very slow pumps, feeling every inch of your cock before moving a little faster.

"Oh, I love to tease that fucking cock; just move up and down it like a good slut," Karina says as you reach your hands to grab her boobs. "I give you one thing, and you want it all," she says.

"There you go, just pound that pussy, baby," Karina tells you as she continues to bounce on your cock, her jiggling jugs driving you crazy. "OH FUCK," she screams as you suddenly follow her instructions, drilling her pussy from up top. "OH MY GO, OH MY GOD," she moans as your balls all of a sudden are smacking hard against her clit.

"AHHHH, AHHH, AHHHH, AHHHHH, FUCK, YES, YES, YES," Karina repeatedly screams as she gets pounded, her tits getting completely loose. "OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH FUCK, YES," she continues to scream, you grabbing her waist and sparing her no room to breathe.

Karina slows down, letting you rub her clit as she spreads her legs. "Oh yes, baby, use my pussy like it's your little fleshlight," she tells you as you resuming pumping her hard. "Let me just grind on it," Karina says as she slams your cock. "Let me fucking use it; I'm gonna fucking cum all over that dick," she says as she fasts up and down it really fast. "I'M COMING," she screams, closing her legs and eyes and just relieving the pressure by covering your cock with her juices.

"You make my pussy so wet," Karina says as she pauses the riding for a bit to let you taste it, grinding on your face as you savor her divine honey. She sucks your cock sloppily, tasting herself on it while you spank her ass. "OH YEAH BABY," she screams as she feels your palms on her cheeks, you two having a nice 69 and fighting to see who is the hungriest, Karina winning the battle as she goes all the way down to your asshole and eats it out one more time.

Karina flips around for another round, this time in a cowgirl position that will allow you to see her beautiful big bazookas bouncing as she rides that big dick. You grab her tits as Karina picks up some grapes and feeds them into your mouth. "You must be very hungry," she tells you.

"Hungry baby, rubbing his hands all over my milk bags," Karina says as she's all smiles riding your cock. You now rub your hands in her ass as she bounces on your cock. "Oh yeah, let me go up and down it," she tells you before bending over in your direction as you use your hands to spread her ass while she shoves her big boobs in your face.

"That's my fucking dick, oh fuck," Karina says as she bounces hard on it. "Yes, baby, spank my ass," she tells you as you hit it, but that doesn't slow her down, quite the opposite.

"I want you to fuck me," Karina says. You follow her instructions, pumping from down low once again. "OH MY GOD, MAKE MY TIDDIES BOUNCE ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE, AHHHHH, FUCKING POUND ME," Karina screams as you destroy her pussy hard. "AHHHHH, FUCK, USE MY FUCKING PUSSY, YES, YES, YES, YES, AHHHHH," she loudly screams, you enjoying her tits hitting your face countless times.

You use all your strength to fuck Karina. "Your pussy is so fucking wet," you tell her. "Right there, baby, that cock is so perfect," she tells you. "OH MY GOD, RIGHT THERE, I'M COMING," Karina screams as your thrusts only get faster. But she doesn't give up, squatting on your cock with all her prowess. "Oh shit," you groan as Karina regains control, her fast riding driving you closer and closer to cum.

"Take every inch of my fucking walls, baby," Karina tells you. You grab some of the oil and rub it in her ass. "Yeah, baby, make my ass shine because you're gonna fuck it soon," Karina teases you as she keeps bouncing. You rub the entrance of her asshole. "Oh my God, I love that," she says.

"You wanna make me cum again, don't you? That dick is so fucking good, I don't wanna stop," Karina says as your thrusts duel her bounces. "FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM," she screams, creaming all over your cock while you keep rubbing the oil over her ass.

"I can't believe this big dick fits inside me so fucking perfectly," Karina says as she keeps moving up and down it, her big tits bouncier than ever. "Oh yeah, fucking use it, let me see," Karina says, looking from behind and watching herself get stretched out.

"KEEP GOING, KEEP GOING, OH FUCK, OH FUCK, OH FUCK, HOLD ME DOWN AND POUND ME," Karina screams as you wrap your arms around her. You start to groan, getting closer and closer to cum as her walls squeeze your cock hard. "Such a magical cock," Karina says as she shakes her ass.

Karina slowly bounces on you again, her pussy so wet you can hear the puddling noises every time you hit deep in her pussy. "Stroke your fucking fleshlight, baby, use your little fucktoy like that. Are you ready to fucking your load inside my pussy?" she asks as you attack her pussy and rub her anus one more time.

"Use that fucking pussy until you fill it to the brim," Karina commands, inviting you once again to cum inside her. "I'm gonna cum," you alert her. "Oh, I can feel it fucking throbbing," she answers. You spread her cheeks, and you explode inside Karina's pink pussy, letting it leak out into your torso as your cock keeps pulsating even after unloading on her.

"Oh my God, there it is," Karina says as she digs out your load from her pussy. "Such a good girl," you tell her. "Thank you," Karina says, cleaning your cock to the fullest and then licking what dripped into your belly. "I can't wait for that cum to breed my pussy. What a fucking nice load, what a great cock for my pussy," she says, massaging your balls again.

"Wanna fuck my ass next? It needs a good massage too; it needs to be destroyed by this big fucking cock. "But first, let me get this cock back to full strength," Karina says, using, like always, her most lethal weapon. No matter how many times she wraps those big balloons over your cock, receiving a titfucking from Karina will always be a unique experience, and she quickly shows why.

Karina licks your tip as she slams your cock between her tits, soon getting you hard again. "Putting it right where it fucking belongs, stroking that cock with those big fucking titties," she says as she moves rather quickly. "I love squeezing that hard dick; it's so hot when they are wrapped around my tits," she says, spitting on your cock.

Karina gets on top of the table as you kiss her. "Take control, fuck those jugs," she tells you as you guide your cock between them, getting on top of her. "Oh yeah, massage your cock in my tits again," she says as you push hard, grabbing her big tits and playing with them.

"Your dick is already so rock hard again," Karina says. "Put your tongue out," you tell her, trying to reach it as you thrust hard against her boobs and make them bounce. You slap your cock against her jugs before squeezing them. "Fuck those tits hard and think of you destroying my ass. I want you to give me what I fucking want," she says.

"Let's go inside," you tell Karina, taking her to a more intimate, darker room with a pair of large beds. Karina shoves you against one of the beds. Are you ready for this asshole?" she continues to ask you. "Of course," you answer her. She teases you again before shoving. "Feel my wet fucking mouth all over that cock," she says as she deepthroats you.

"Let me worship that cock first. Is that ok for you? You like when I stroke your cock like that?" Karina asks you. "Make me your little sloppy fuckwhore," she says, teasing you again with more licks. "Your cock tastes so fucking good after cumming," she says. "Let me savor both those fucking balls one more time," she continues.

Karina warms your balls up with her usual precision, making you groan as she keeps stroking your dick. "Right there," you say as she worships it before throating your cock slowly, bobbing her head all over your dick. You pump upwards, trying to fuck her face and make her gag.

"FUCK, THAT'S GOOD," Karina says as she spits all over your dick. She kisses you, alternating between romantic moments and pure slutiness that drives you insane. "Looks like I'm the one doing the massage right now," Karina says.

"Your cock is so wet already, but my ass is really tight; you'll have a hard time sliding in," Karina tells you, adding some extra spit to it. "Fuck, Rina, you're such a nasty whore," you tell her, trying to fuck her face again. "Yes, baby, I'm a whore that loves making a mess of this cock," she tells you.

"Bang those jugs, fuck them hard," Karina tells you as she goes back to smash your cock between her tits. "Be a good boy, fuck those tits harder," she asks you, making a mess of your cock as she pushes it hard. "Good girl," you tell her, Karina deepthroating your cock between her jugs. "So slippery," she says as you try to pump your cock up.

"I'm such a big-tit whore, one that wants you to fuck those big fucking tits harder and faster," Karina tells you. "No fucking breathing, I don't want this cock breathing between my tits at all, I'm gonna squeeze it as hard as I can," she tells you.

"Fuck, baby, that cock is so thick between my tits, it can barely fit. I can see you're rushing all the blood from your body to it. You really want to fuck my tight little ass this bad," Karina says.

"Put those fingers in my mouth," Karina commands, and you oblige, using your remaining free hand to pour some extra oil on her boobs. "Oh yes, baby, get them shiny," she tells you, then licking your tip for a little more teasing before giving your shaft another hard titfucking. "Oh my God, I love watching you fucking them," Karina says.

"Prepare my asshole," Karina tells you as she gets on her knees on the opposing bed. You start giving Karina's backdoor a little massage, before shoving your tongue in her butthole. "Oh yeah, baby, use that magic tongue," she tells you.

"You look so fucking good licking that ass; that's so good," Karina says as she rubs her pussy. You give her asshole some quick tongues and then dive your face on it before replacing it with a pair of fingers. "It's so big, just like your cock," Karina tells you.

You finger-fuck Karina's asshole, her pussy getting very wet as you spank her ass and shove your fingers deep in her anus. "Perfection, those fingers in my ass are perfection," Karina tells you.

"I want to fuck your ass so bad," you tell Karina. "Then beg me for it," she answers, grinding against your cock as you grab her tits. "Good boy, massage my tits, show me the good masseur you are," she says. "Please, baby, let me fuck you," you tell her.

"No, no, no, you have to keep begging," Karina says. "Keep rubbing my tits and I'll consider," she continues. "But first, let me rub my pussy a bit on this cock," she says, giving you her classic killer grinding that makes you crazy while you play with her boobs.

"I think it's time, baby," Karina says as she slides your cock in her ass. "You want that fucking cock in my ass, baby?" she asks you as she slowly pushes it down. "Yes," you tell her. "Say please," she answers. "Please," you tell her.

Karina struggles at first with your thick length. "Oh my fucking God, that fucking dick is so big," she says as soon as it gets deep inside her. "Let me just use that cock, play with it," she tells you, but you quickly try to pump it up.

"So tight," you tell Karina as you hear queefing sounds coming from her asshole as she starts to bounce. "I agree, it's so fucking big and tight," she tells you, trying to pick up the pace. Her squats are incredible. "AHHHH THAT'S GOOD, OH MY GOD, YOU FEEL SO FUCKING PERFECT IN MY ASS," she says as she queefs again.

"OH YEAH, LIKE THAT, LIKE THAT," Karina says as she starts shaking her ass and grinding on your cock while she bounces, taking a little sideways motion as opposed to the squats she had started with. "THIS IS WHAT I FUCKING LIKE, THIS IS WHAT I FUCKING CRAVE, FUCK," she screams as her fast bounces make the bed creak.

Karina goes back to her crazy squatting, almost snapping your cock in half as she goes so fast it goes out of her ass. She slows down a bit, feeling it deeper in her butt, but quickly spreads her ass and goes back to squatting on your dick. "Yes, baby, suffocate that big dick inside my hole, claim my ass as yours," she says as she continues to bounce.

"OH FUCK, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, IT'S SO FUCKING PERFECT IN ME," Karina screams as she continues to squat on your cock. "Oh yeah, baby, fuck me back," she says as you try to pump back up. "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE, AHHHH," she screams, spreading her legs and welcoming your hard thrusts up her butt.

"AHHHHH FUCK, OH MY GOD, I'M IN HEAVEN," Karina says, moving even more insane with her bounces. "Right where it belongs, in my fucking ass," she tells you. "Pound it, baby, pound it," she tells you. She quickly flips sides, sitting on your cock in reverse. "OH YEAH," she says, resuming the hard bouncing, her cheeks making loud sounds against your hips. You grab her bouncy butt. "It fits so fucking perfect in my ass," she says.

"FUCK ME BACK, FUCK ME BACK," Karina commands as you start pumping your cock up her ass. your balls smashing against her skin. "AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, YEAH, I'M CUMMING," she screams as she gets drilled hard. "Oh my God, that's heaven," she says again. "Just use it, just use my fucking ass," she says.

You slow down a bit, Karina, trying to bounce. "Yeah, baby, give it to me, nice and fucking hard," Karina says as she goes back to bouncing hard on your cock. "I love getting all this fucking dick," she says.

"You do? Then take it," you tell Karina, her spreading her legs as you fuck her ass at the speed of light. "OHHHHH FUCKKKK," she screams, her long legs shaking as she turns into your anal fleshlight. "OH MY GOSH, OH YEAH," she says, bending her legs.

"Be gentle, baby, your cock is really big," Karina says. "I love when you put your fingers in my pussy," she continues as you reach to massage her clit. You also reach your other hand to grab her tits. "Keep going, baby, stretch my asshole, take it deep, right there, keep going like that, that's the perfect fucking pace to make me cum," she says.

"Make me cum, make me cum," Karina begs as she spreads her legs wide. "Fuck, finger that clit, I'm gonna cum," she continues as you keep pounding her. "FUCK BABY," she screams as you push harder and harder, almost making her lose her balance.

As Karina finally shows weakness, you seize the opportunity to grab her legs and put her under a full nelson. "Fucking destroy this asshole, just fucking use it," she says. "Oh my God, baby, just fuck me good, GIVE ME MORE, YEAH, YEAH," Karina says.

"FUCK ME HARD, I'M GONNA CUM, YES," Karina screams loudly as her legs start to tremble. The full nelson doesn't last for long as you fuck Karina so hard you suddenly explode inside her asshole when she clenches it around your cock. "AH YEAH BABY," she screams as you spread her gape and push your cum out of her ass.

Karina quickly picks up the pieces, licking the cum that oozed out of her ass. "Eat my ass while I stroke my cock; your beautiful face will quickly make me hard," you tell her, jerking yourself off as Karina gives you a nasty rimjob. "Fuck, you're so good at eating my ass," you tell her as Karina spits in your butthole and savors it like a demon, tonguing it in an insane way.

"Oh my God, that asshole is so perfect," Karina says as she pushes back up to stroke your cock and bob her head hard on it. "Ah, fuck," you say as she deepthroats you again. "Fuck, let me see how much farther I can take it," you say, putting one leg around her head and pushing down as she chokes on your cock.

"AHHHH, OH MY GOD," Karina screams as she gets more insane. "Oh, I love the way your cock fucking feels in my mouth," she says, moving her mouth all over your balls, going so insane that she not only wants you to fuck her ass, but she also starts fucking yours, reaching her hands to finger-fuck your asshole while never leaving your balls from her mouth as she spits all over them. "So sexy," you tell her.

Karina gets on her knees, worshipping your balls one more time as she squeezes her tits. "Oh my god, these balls are so perfect in my mouth," she says, getting very sloppy. "I'm a lucky girl, getting such a good massage," she tells you, giving your cock another deepthroat and smiling as she licks your torso as well.

"You like seeing my pretty face abused with that cock?" Karina asks as she slaps it in her face. You bring your cock and push it down her throat, Karina sliding under you to lick your asshole.

"Fuck those tiddies again, I know you like it," Karina says, pushing them up for you to bang them for the hundredth time, yet you still feel like it's the first with the way she squeezes them around your cock. "Just like that, baby, look in my eyes while you fuck my big fucking jugs," she tells you as you keep pushing, Karina sticking her tongue out like a hungry slut.

Karina bobs her head on your cock like a crazy girl; the more she takes it in the ass, the more insane she gets. "I love tasting my ass," she tells you. She swallows all your balls, licks your asshole, and makes a mess of your cock. "Oh yeah, baby, that's good, but I want more in my ass," she tells you.

Karina gets herself sideways as you enter her in a spooning position, spreading her ass. "Yes, yes, baby, that's perfect, keep going," she tells you, her boobs bouncing with each thrust. "Look how naughty your eyes look when you fuck me," she says.

You quickly pick up the pace, slamming your cock in Karina's asshole and clapping your balls against her skin. "CLAIM IT, CLAIM THAT FUCKING ASS WITH YOUR BIG FAT COCK, CLAIM THAT FUCKING HOLE," she commands as you put your fingers in her pussy. "Oh baby, you're making me fucking throb," she says as she spreads her pussy for you.

"This is what I've been dreaming about. Give it to me. Give me what I want. Stuff that cunt while you fuck that ass, FUCKKKK," Karina moans. She spreads her ass and shows you her pink, cum-filled gape, now stuffing her own hands in her cunt as you drill her ass at full speed and make her boobs jiggle hard.

"Yes, baby, jerk your cock off in that asshole, make me fucking explode all over that cock," Karina says as she gets closer to her orgasm. "AHHHHH," Karina screams, her legs shaking again as you hit deep in her ass. "GOD, YOU'RE MAKING ME CUM AGAIN," she says.

You promptly lick Karina's juices from her pussy before going back to her ass, her fully spreading her legs and letting her boobs freely jiggle as you attack her ass. "Make me fucking squirt," she tells you and promptly gets it. "Open your legs," you command her, shoving your fingers in her pussy to make her cum. "AHHHHHHHH, FUCK, I'M CUMMING," Karina screams.

"Lick my pussy and let me taste it too," Karina tells you as you kiss her and feed her juices to her mouth, quickly going back to pound her ass as soon as you get there. "OH FUCK," she screams. You rub her body, paying special attention to her tits while she spreads her legs. "I love how you fill my asshole; I love it so much. Feed it with your big fucking cock. Give me what I need. I crave that fucking cock inside my ass; I fucking crave it," she commands, sticking her tongue out.

You finger Karina's pussy nonstop, making her cum hard. "There you go," you tell her. "KEEP GOING, KEEP GOING, IT'S SO GOOD, PLAY WITH MY FUCKING PUSSY, I WANNA CUM AGAIN," she says. "Wow," you say as Karina squirts hard. "You like using me like a fuckdoll, don't you?" she asks.

"AH YEAH, FUCK MY ASSHOLE, FUCK," Karina screams, you slapping her honey thighs to calm her down a bit. "Keep that thumb in my pussy, make me squirt," she begs you, but you instead take your whole hand, making her shake one more time. "OHHHHHH FUCKKKKK," she loudly screams.

You and Karina share kisses as you let her suck your cock for a little bit. You let her bob her head on your cock and savor her asshole before grabbing her hair and plowing her face. "Right there, gag on it," you tell her as she does it perfectly, going back for another sloppy blowjob shortly after, you massaging her boobs as you fuck her face. "Keep taking it, so good, there you go," you tell her as you shove your balls down her throat and make a string of spit come out of Karina's chin.

Karina moves to the other bed as she gets herself on all fours. "Put that dick back in my ass, right where it belongs," she tells you as you shove your cock back inside it. "Yeah," she moans as she feels you penetrating her again, firmly grabbing her waist. "Use it, fuck that tiny little asshole," she says, making her boobs freely bounce.

"Open that ass for me," you tell Karina, who spreads her cheeks wide. "Look at that nice little gape for you," she says as you tease her before going back to pounding. "Oh yeah, baby, that hole is fucking begging for it. I love that fucking cock. Oh, baby, you're so fucking perfect in me," she says.

The doggy pounding continuing, you slap Karina's butt and enjoy her tits bouncing. You take a little break to lick her asshole but quickly resume pounding it. "YES, GOD, FUCK, PLEASE, PLEASE," Karina begs as your assfucking only gets more and more intense. "Don't spare an inch, take it all, fuck it," she keeps commanding.

"I'm your anal princess, baby; my ass is all yours, fuck," Karina moans, reaching to finger her pussy. You spread her butthole and spit on it, enjoying her gape and staring at the cum you already deposited on it.

"Stay there," you tell Karina, putting her body upside down and putting her in a piledriver position. You tease her, going in and out of her ass. "Put it right back in," she says, you grabbing her tits and pinching them while she licks her nipples and you fuck her ass, Karina covering her queefing cunt with her hands.

Karina softly moans as you destroy her ass. "OH BABY FUCK, FUCK," she screams, her legs pressing against her big boobs as she looks at you from below. You mount on top of her, pounding her really hard. "AHHHHH, FUCK, I LOVE EVERY FUCKING INCH OF IT IN MY ASS, WRECK IT JUST LIKE THAT," she screams. "Take it, take it all, fuck," Karina commands as your balls clap hard against her cheeks, your cock drilling her ass so hard she collapses into the bed.

"You seem tired, Rina," you say to her, putting her back in a more romantic missionary position. "Let me give you one final massage," you say to her, inserting your cock in her ass as she spreads her cheeks. "Give me more, please, one last massage," she begs you.

Karina massages her pussy as you fuck her ass very nice and slow. "Yeah, baby, worship that asshole," she tells you as you tease her, going slowly in and out of it. "That's what I fucking like. Take it all, dirty boy. Take every fucking inch of me, yeah," she moans as you take it slow and deep in her ass. "Fuck it nice and hard," she tells you, you picking up the pace. "AH YEAH," she screams. "Keep going until you make me fucking cum one last time," she continues.

"I love watching you go in and out of my asshole, just teasing it," Karina says as you keep taking it slow. "I love the way you play with my asshole," she continues. You then spit on her pussy. "I love the way you sloppily spit on my cunt," she keeps going. "I love you, baby; you make me feel so fucking amazing," she finishes, truly a girl in love.

"YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, FUCK," Karina screams. "You make me feel fucking fantastic, like the best whore in the world," she tells you as you kiss her. You take your time, Karina now so horny her asshole queefs at every single one of your slow thrusts. "Do you hear it? That's the sound of me getting turned on," she says.

"I think I'm ready for that cum. You want to give that big fucking load all over my tits?" Karina asks you. "Come for me, baby, give me your fucking masterpiece and cover my tits," she tells you.

You get on top of Karina to bang her tits for one last time. "Yeah, fuck them, fuck them, nice and fucking tight, fuck it until you paint it with your cum," Karina says as you grope and squeeze her massive boobs hard as your cock slides up and down between them like your life depended on it.

"Look at you, you fuck those tits so well," Karina says just as you start to groan. "I can feel it, oh my God, paint me, make me your art," she says as you pop all over her tits, her sticking her tongue out as you cover her chest with your cum.

"I love eating all that cum. I'm a semen demon. I made you drain your balls all over my hot body four times," Karina brags as she grabs her boobs and licks them. "Look how sensitive you are, baby, you came so hard you're shaking" she continues, stroking your cock and rubbing her hands against your still throbbing tip while giving you a big smile.

"Thank you for your load; your cum tastes so good," Karina says as she bobs her head on your cock and lets you fuck her face and tits one last time, sticking her tongue out to lick the tip as you titfuck her.

"What a fucking day; that was an incredible massage," Karina tells you. "Absolutely, and for that I'm going to give you a lifetime pass; you can come back here anytime you want. Every time you need stress relief, call me, and I can give it for free," you say to her.

"Thanks," Karina says as she heads back to the shower, taking long minutes there masturbating and remembering the day she had with you. As she gets back dressed, she kisses you and heads away, you looking at her beautiful body as it disappears on the horizon, hoping your next time with her won't take long to come.

#karina smut #aespa smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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hyuckiefluff · 5 months ago

Text

nasty habits | park jisung

pairing: pervy!jisung x camgirl! reader

genre: smut, a little bit of fluff at the end

summary: what happens when you find out that your top spender as a cam girl isn’t some rich old guy, but an awkward boy from your campus?

wc: 20k+

warnings: cam girl activities, usage of sex toys, cursing, loss of virginity, sub!jisung, masturbation (like a lot of it), oral sex (fem.receiving), jisung is his usual introverted self (and only loud during sex), a lot of sexualization and just overall horniness lol. lmk if i missed anything!

a/n: heeey loves! i was absolutely floored with the amount of love that my latest fic got, so here i am with another one for you. this is my first jisung fic so im excited but also nervous bc jisung is one of my biases. idk why it took me so long to write him. but anyways i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. ps; y/n is terrible at recognizing people or remembering names and i’m only putting that here bc it comes out a few times in the fic lol (she’s just like me fr), ALSO, this is loosely inspired by BJ Alex. oh and one last thing, the idea for this fic or at least the characters’ dynamic was inspired by this tweet.

your college days have been, for the most part, unremarkable in the best way. you pulled decent grades, had a solid group of friends, and were generally well-liked.

but despite being somewhat popular, you managed to keep a lot about yourself private.

and by that, you mean the secret life that only a handful of your closest friends knew about.

after all, being a cam girl wasn’t exactly your average college hobby.

you don’t remember how it started, it was likely on a whim born from equal parts boredom and curiosity. at first, you had no idea what you were doing. your streams were awkward, your lighting was bad, and your concept was nonexistent. but after a few months, you found your niche and became kind of a big deal on the platform.

granted, the website you streamed on was pretty obscure. it was the kind of place you could name in public, and nobody would so much as glance your way. still, you made decent money. enough to pay for your first two years of college entirely out of pocket.

you never flaunted it, and most of your friends didn’t care to pry. they only ever joked about it, like they were doing now after you casually mentioned how much you’d earned last month.

“girl, what the hell. maybe i should start camming too,” giselle said, eyes wide as she stared at the number on your screen.

“you say that like it’s a joke, but i’m dead serious,” karina chimed in, striking a dramatic pose in front of the mirror. “i checked my bank account yesterday and almost cried.”

“i mean, i’m not saying you should, but if you need pointers…” you teased, shooting them a wink

“for real though, you’ve gotten so much confidence from this,” giselle pointed out, leaning back against the bed frame.

“oh yeah, nothing boosts your self-esteem like a 60 year old man telling you your ‘princess bits’ are so pretty he busted one in his pants,” you deadpanned, propping your chin on your hand.

“okay, they can’t all be old men,” karina snorted “like can you see their profiles or anything?” she asked, abandoning the mirror and flopping onto the bed beside you.

“not really. just their usernames and how much they’ve spent on my channel.”

“wait, check your top supporter!” giselle said, bouncing a little in excitement.

you scrolled through the dashboard until his username popped up. the moment your friends saw how much he’d spent on you this year, they both let out a loud gasp.

“what in the sugar daddy is this?” karina said, laughing in disbelief. “eighteen thousand dollars? that’s literally my entire tuition!”

“i don’t get the full amount, though. the site takes a cut, then there’s taxes and all that,” you clarified, shrugging.

“still! that’s insane,” giselle said, shaking her head. “honestly, i don’t feel bad about you paying for our sushi nights anymore.”

you laughed, leaning back into your pillows.

“but aren’t you even a little curious about who this…” karina squinted at the screen, “andyp4rk02 is? i need to know everything about this man.”

“i mean, of course i’m curious. but there’s no way to find out,” you said, twirling a strand of hair absentmindedly.

“unless…” giselle said, dragging the word out with a sly grin.

you raised a brow. “unless what?”

“haechan.”

you frowned. “what about him?”

“he could probably hack into this thing,” she said with a casual wave of her hand, as if that wasn’t a completely ridiculous suggestion.

“giselle, he’s a computer science major, not a dark web hacker,” karina said, rolling her eyes.

“okay, but remember when i got locked out of my netflix? he did some tech magic on his computer and got my account back.”

“yeah, because recovering a netflix account is exactly the same as hacking into a cam site,” you said dryly.

“i’m just saying, have you seen his setup? it’s literally something out of a spy movie,” giselle insisted.

karina shrugged. “it wouldn’t hurt to ask him…”

you hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i don’t know, guys…”

“oh, come on,” karina said, nudging your shoulder. “don’t you want to know who this guy is?”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

they somehow managed to convince you, which was how you found yourself shivering outside haechan’s dorm, rubbing your arms to keep warm. the air was biting, and as always, haechan wasn’t picking up his phone.

“when he opens this door, i’m kicking him straight in the balls,” you muttered, bouncing on your toes to stave off the cold. giselle was furiously rubbing her hands up and down your arms and karina’s, trying to share what little warmth she had.

“we should’ve called earlier,” karina said through chattering teeth, her lower lip trembling. “he might not even be in.”

giselle huffed dramatically. “okay, this is ridiculous.” she stepped back and cupped her hands around her mouth. “lee haechan, come out right now!” her voice echoed down the street, startling a group of students walking by.

“haechan! get your ass down here!” you joined in, your voice cracking slightly in the cold.

karina gave a small, pitiful laugh. “he lives on the second floor… there’s no way he heard that.”

before she could finish, the door creaked open, revealing one of his roommates. you recognized him immediately but, as usual, couldn’t recall his name. he was younger than you by a year and usually kept to himself whenever you visited.

“uh… hey?” he said, blinking at the sight of the three of you standing there like frostbitten strays. he leaned awkwardly against the doorframe, clearly wondering why three girls were yelling outside their dorm at 9 p.m. on a tuesday.

giselle, ever the charmer, broke into a dazzling smile. “hi! thank you! we’re here for haechan.”

“okay,” he said quietly, still eyeing you all with suspicion. “he’s probably in his room playing league or something.” he stepped aside slowly, letting you in.

“thank you,” you muttered as you walked past, catching the way his gaze immediately dropped to the floor when you made eye contact.

once inside, you didn’t waste any time. storming up to haechan’s door, you knocked violently before pushing it open without waiting for an answer.

“what the hell—” haechan swiveled in his gaming chair, his startled expression melting into a sly grin as soon as he saw you. “hii, girls. to what do i owe the pleasure?” his tone shifted into his mock customer service voice as he leaned back, giving you his most charming smile.

giselle jabbed a finger into his shoulder, making him wince. “were you jerking off, or is your phone shoved up your ass? why didn’t you answer our calls?”

“sorry, i was mid-round, and my phone was on silent,” he said, rubbing his shoulder and smiling sheepishly.

karina folded her arms and sat on the edge of his bed, only to spring back up with a grimace. “ugh, have you even left your room this week?” she asked, glaring at the mountain of empty takeout containers and water bottles scattered across the floor.

“it’s winter break,” haechan said, turning back to his computer and clicking out of the game. “of course i haven’t.”

giselle gestured dramatically at the mess. “you’re one step away from being in a hoarders episode, dude.”

haechan ignored her, spinning in his chair to face you again. “so, what brings such beautiful company to my humble abode?” his eyes lingered on you pointedly.

“he only looked at y/n while saying that. wow.” giselle placed a hand on her chest in mock offense.

“she’s not gonna suck your dick, haechan,” karina said flatly, shaking her head.

“i didn’t even say anything!” he protested, deflating slightly in his chair, his pout almost comical.

“anyway,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “i need a favor.”

haechan perked up immediately. “anything for you,” he said with a wink, which earned an exaggerated gagging noise from karina.

you crossed your arms, leaning against the desk. “okay, first: how’s your hacking game these days?”

“eh… like a seven. why?”

“do you think you could, uh, hack into angel corner?”

his eyebrows shot up. “oh, oh.” he swiveled back to his computer, clearly intrigued. “i mean, i’m not super familiar with their system—it depends on their encryption layers and backend coding. but…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the desk. “it shouldn’t be too hard. why do you want me to hack them, though?”

you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, trying to look as innocent as possible. “just… curious about one of my subscribers.”

giselle chimed in unhelpfully. “her top subscriber.”

haechan spun his chair back around, narrowing his eyes. “and what exactly do you want to know?”

you hesitated, glancing at karina and giselle. the truth was, you hadn’t really thought this through.

“everything,” karina said firmly, her eyes glinting with a kind of mischievous excitement.

haechan smirked, leaning back in his chair. “okay, but what’s in it for me?”

giselle thought for a second and then grinned, throwing an arm around your shoulder. “y/n will sit on your lap while you do your nerdy shit.”

haechan shot out of his chair, clapping his hands. “deal!”

“huh?! i did not agree to this.” you immediately protested.

“c’mooon,” giselle said with a pout. “don’t you want to know?”

haechan patted his lap smugly. “don’t worry, baby. i don’t bite.”

groaning, you finally gave in, muttering curses under your breath as you sat on his lap. he sighed contentedly, spinning back toward his computer. with a few quick clicks, he opened a screen that looked straight out of a movie just as giselle said before. lines of code and strange tabs you didn’t recognize.

“how do you even know how to do this?” you asked, leaning slightly to the side to avoid touching his chest.

“self-taught,” he replied with a shrug.

“great,” you muttered. “i’m trusting a bootleg hacker to invade my subscriber’s privacy. that’s just fantastic.”

“hey, relax,” haechan said, grinning. “you’re in good hands.”

“can we get this over with so i can get off you?” you groaned, shifting uncomfortably on haechan’s lap.

“why? i’m cozy,” he said with a cheeky grin, snuggling into your back. you retaliated with a flick to his forehead.

“ow!” he yelped, immediately rubbing the spot. “i’m so nice to you and all you do is hurt me.”

“you’ll cope. now, what’s this?” you asked, pointing at the maze of numbers and codes flickering across the screen.

“this,” he said, his brows knitting in concentration, “is me trying to break through their firewall… which is a lot more complicated than i thought.”

“well, obviously,” karina chimed in from behind you, inspecting her nails, only half invested in the conversation. “that site probably has CEOs and politicians on it. maybe one of them is your top subscriber, because who else has eighteen thousand dollars to blow on a cam girl?”

“what?!” haechan yelled, whipping around so fast you nearly fell off his lap. “eighteen thousand?!”

“that was my ear,” you muttered, steadying yourself.

he cleared his throat dramatically, but his ears flushed pink. “right, sorry. anyway—oh, wait, i’m in!”

“wait, really?!” you leaned forward in excitement, your hands clutching the edge of his desk. “oh my god, that’s so cool, i could kiss you right now!”

“please do,” haechan replied, staring at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“be a man,” karina said, smacking him on the back of his head as she moved closer.

“okay, so… bad news or good news first?” haechan asked, his smug grin returning as he reclined slightly in his chair.

“just rip the band-aid off,” you said, crossing your arms. “what’s the bad news?”

“your top spender is smart. like, annoyingly smart. the only personal info he filled out was his gender, and for his name he used a zelda character.”

“what a virgin,” he added with a laugh.

“look who’s talking,” giselle shot back.

“hey, i’m not the one spending thousands on a cam girl who wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole,” haechan retorted, his tone defensive. “and for the record, i do get some action, thank you very much.”

“sure you do,” karina muttered, rolling her eyes. “anyway, what’s the good news?”

haechan grinned like a cat who’d caught a particularly juicy mouse. “i can get his IP address.”

“wait, for real? what are you waiting for?” giselle leaned in, her eyes darting to the screen.

“hold on.” you hesitated, guilt prickling at the edges of your excitement. “isn’t this… a bit much? like, it feels illegal.”

giselle waved a hand dismissively. “please. we’ve come this far… we can’t leave with just this. we already knew he was a guy. only a man would be that desperate.”

“and besides,” karina added, “you’ve been sitting on this nerd’s lap for twenty minutes. make it worth something.”

“touché,” giselle said, nodding. “by the way, you can get up now.”

“yeah, but…” you paused, shifting slightly. “he was right—his lap is cozy.”

“told ya,” haechan said smugly, shooting you a wink. “so, should i pull up his IP or what?”

you sighed covering your face with your hands, hoping it would make the shame and ethical gray area feel a little less overwhelming “ugh. fine. just do it.”

haechan’s fingers flew across the keyboard, a blur of taps and clicks as lines of code scrolled rapidly across the screen. within three minutes, he sat back triumphantly.

“got it,” he said. but then his smile faltered, his brows knitting together in confusion. “wait… that can’t be right.”

“what?” you dropped your hands and leaned forward. “what’s wrong?”

karina’s eyes widened as she stared at the screen. “isn’t that…?”

giselle’s voice was barely above a whisper. “isn’t that this dorm?”

you all stared at the address blinking on the screen. it was the exact building you were sitting in.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“you’ve all been staring at me for the past three minutes, and i’m feeling very threatened right now,” haechan said, his voice trembling.

the three of you stood in front of him, arms crossed and glares locked onto his soul.

“well, we just think it’s way too much of a freaky coincidence that her top spender just so happens to live here,” giselle said, her tone accusatory. “care to explain?”

“wait, wait, wait,” haechan stammered, his hands flying up in surrender. “you’re not seriously implying i’m the top spender, right? cause that’s just—” he laughed nervously, “—ridiculous!”

“oh, is it?” karina quipped, raising a perfectly arched brow. “you’re always flirting with y/n and acting like a simp. what’s a few thousand dollars for your ‘queen’?”

“oh, come on!” haechan groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “i’m naturally a flirty guy. that’s my thing! and where do you guys think i’d even get that kind of money?”

he gestured around the room to back up his claim. the pile of ramen cups and the stack of free campus hoodies spoke louder than he ever could.

“besides,” he added, dropping his arms, “i’m not even subscribed to her channel. i admit i checked it out a few times after y/n told me about it, but i promise i’m not a weirdo or anything. you’re my best friend, y/n.”

his voice softened at the end, and you felt yourself relaxing slightly. haechan might be a flirt, a tease, and a relentless pain in the ass, but he wasn’t the kind of person to keep something like this hidden from you.

“he’s telling the truth, you guys,” you said finally, breaking the tension.

karina tilted her head, sizing him up. “yeah, i didn’t think a bum like him would drop that much money on you anyway.” she scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. “he asked me for five dollars the other day… by the way, give me back my money.”

“dude, it was five bucks! let it go,”

“let it go?” karina shot back. “i could’ve gotten a latte with that!”

“okay, okay,” giselle cut in, waving her hands to calm them down. “if it’s not haechan, who else could it be? is there anyone in this dorm who’s… obsessed with you?”

you blinked, thinking hard. “not that i know of. i mean, i don’t really talk to anyone here except for haechan.”

“how many guys live here?” giselle asked, turning to haechan.

“including me? 5,” he said, counting on his fingers. “but i’m pretty sure jeno has a girlfriend... so that leaves mark, jaemin, and jisung.”

“since when has having a girlfriend ever stopped a man from doing something shady?” karina deadpanned, crossing her arms.

“true,” haechan admitted with a shrug, “but let’s be real, girls… all of them are full-time students barely scraping by with part-time jobs. i doubt any of them have that kind of cash to drop freely.”

“you never know,” giselle chimed in. “isn’t mark’s brother the dealer on campus? maybe he borrowed some money.”

karina snorted. “you’re forgetting mark is practically a saint. the guy’s too religious and too much of a goody two-shoes to even think about something like that.”

“okay, what about jaemin?” giselle countered. “he’s always wearing designer stuff. what if he’s secretly loaded?”

karina gave her an incredulous look. “have you seen jaemin? he’s got a different girl drooling over his shoulder every other day. i don’t think he needs to subscribe to a cam girl to satisfy himself and i’m sure all those were gifts from desperate girls”

“then that leaves jisung,” you said slowly, the name clicking into place. “wait… isn’t he the one who let us in earlier? the freshman?”

karina nodded. “oh right, the tall awkward kid. that would explain why he couldn’t even look at you.”

“wait, jisung?” haechan burst out laughing. “no way. the kid’s barely in his twenties! you’re telling me he somehow scraped together eighteen thousand dollars to spend on y/n?”

“well, he does live in this building so that makes him a suspect…” giselle reasoned, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“ugh, this is getting too weird,” you muttered, pacing the small room. “are we really saying jisung might be the guy?”

“i mean, you never know,” karina said with a smirk. “quiet ones are always full of surprises.”

haechan groaned, flopping back into his chair. “this is turning into a bad episode of CSI”

“if he’s the top spender, that means he has a thing for y/n,” giselle said, grinning. “we should just ask him directly.”

“absolutely not,” you said quickly, your face heating up.

“why not?” karina teased. “we’re already halfway to solving this mystery. might as well get the confession.”

“no, i think this has already gotten out of control… you guys are too caught up on finding who it is but personally i don’t care that much, i’m fine with not knowing”

“really, even after finding out he’s living in this very dorm?” karina asked walking up to you.

“yeah. i don’t care.” you were lying and they could probably tell by your face but, surprisingly, they didn’t press you.

“okay, fine. let’s go home.”

“i think we should have a sleepover. what do you think, girls?” haechan said and you responded by throwing a pillow at him as you exited the room.

“damn, not even a thank you.” he said, rubbing his head.

you sprinted back into the room and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. “thank you!” you said sweetly.

“and clean your room, it stinks!” you yelled from the hallway.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

winter break had ended, and after coming back from visiting your family, you’d mostly forgotten about the fact that your top spender lived in one of your best friend’s dorms.

but your dismissive attitude disappeared as soon as the new term started.

suddenly, you were hyper-aware of every one of haechan’s roommates. even the ones you’d previously ruled out. like, why was jeno suddenly smiling at you from across the dining hall? and was that… a smirk you saw on mark’s face as you walked by? certainly not—you had to be imagining things. you were just being extremely paranoid.

“hey, gorg!!!” giselle greeted you with extra enthusiasm, practically bouncing into the room.

“you’re happy today,” karina observed, raising an eyebrow.

“i am! i really think i cracked this case, y’all.”

you sighed, already bracing yourself. “enlighten us,” you said flatly.

karina rolled her eyes. “you do know no one cares anymore, right?”

giselle ignored her and continued. “by the way, how were you guys’ breaks?” she asked casually before immediately cutting herself off. “never mind, we’ll get to that later. listen, i was in line for food earlier, and guess who i saw?”

when neither of you spoke, she dramatically continued, “jaemin.”

“fork found in kitchen. of course he’d be at the cafeteria during lunch,” you said, unimpressed.

“no, but listen! i said hi to him, and he flinched so hard he nearly dropped his phone. then he tried to hide it.”

“maybe somebody sent him nudes or something,” karina said, shrugging.

giselle shook her head, leaning in conspiratorially. “no, but catch this… he asked if i was here alone, and when i pointed at you”—she turned to you with a wide grin—“he blushed furiously.”

you tsked, slumping back in your chair. “that still proves nothing.”

“okay, but isn’t it suspicious?” giselle pressed. “why would he blush that hard just because i mentioned you?”

“because he’s a human being with a working circulatory system?” you shot back.

karina snorted. “for real. giselle, you’re acting like you just uncovered a government conspiracy.”

“you guys are just blind,” giselle huffed, crossing her arms. “mark my words… it’s him. jaemin’s the one.”

“even if it was him, what am i supposed to do with that information? march up to him and say, ‘hey, thanks for the eighteen grand’?”

“you should,” karina said with a smirk. “at least get him to buy you lunch.”

giselle sighed dramatically, feeling like she was surrounded by fools. “fine. don’t believe me. but when this all comes out, just remember i called it first.”

“boo!”

haechan’s voice was directly in your ear, and you jumped so hard you nearly spilled your coffee all over yourself.

“what the hell! i almost ruined my new skirt,” you snapped, quickly checking to make sure no drops had actually landed on the fabric.

“did you buy that with jaemin’s allowance?” he teased, a grin stretching across his face.

you responded by flipping him off, which only made him laugh as he slid into the seat next to you.

“you heard everything?” karina asked, giving him an unimpressed look.

“hard not to,” he replied casually. “in case you didn’t know, gi, your discreet voice is about as discreet as a foghorn.”

giselle rolled her eyes. “thanks for the input, hacker boy.”

“i’ve already said to drop the topic,” you cut in, frustrated. “what if one of them hears? and! you guys are being so obvious about it… don’t think i haven’t noticed the pointed stares you keep giving to every guy from the dorm. i’m sure they’ve noticed, too.”

“we’re just trying to help,” giselle said, stabbing at her salad with unnecessary force.

“and i do appreciate it,” you replied, though your tight smile probably said otherwise, “but i’d appreciate it even more if we all just moved on.”

your tone made it clear that the discussion was over, and the table fell into an awkward silence.

you felt a little bad about shutting them down so abruptly, but the truth was, you didn’t want them to figure out who your top spender was. not because you cared about protecting his identity, exactly… but because you feared that, in the process, they’d also find out the full truth:

you’d already interacted with him before.

not just casually, either. your top spender had paid for private sessions. more than once.

you still didn’t know what he looked like since he’d never turned on his camera but you could probably recognize his voice. a voice that, no matter how much you tried to ignore it, had been replaying in your head ever since that night you found out he was likely a student in this university. a deep voice that had a habit of making your heart race despite your best efforts to stay professional.

“i know you said to drop it, but is it just me or does hae’s nerdy friend keep looking this way every few seconds?” karina asked, nodding subtly toward a table a few feet away.

you turned your head, catching a glimpse of jisung sitting by himself, fiddling with his phone. “maybe he wants to sit with us,” you shrugged. “call him over, hae.”

“yo, jisung!” haechan called, raising a hand to wave the taller boy over.

jisung froze in place, his eyes widening briefly before he hastily shoved on his headphones and scurried away like a startled deer.

you frowned, puzzled. “what was that about?”

“that was so weird,” giselle snorted, biting back a laugh.

“ah, he’s just awkward like that,” haechan said with a casual wave of his hand. “probably saw me sitting with gorgeous girls” he locked eyes with you as he said this “and got scared.”

“anyways,” you rolled your eyes, but the slight twitch at the corner of your lips betrayed your amusement. “i have to go.”

“part-time obligations?” karina asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly.

“possibly,” you shrugged nonchalantly as you got up.

“can i come?” haechan asked.

you rolled your eyes at haechan’s hopeful grin as he stood up. “you wish,” you said, pushing him back into his seat before grabbing your bag and heading out.

your destination wasn’t your dorm or the library. instead, you made your way to the small studio you rented off-campus, tucked far enough away to avoid suspicion.

the studio was modest, just big enough to fit a bed, a desk, a small bathroom, and your filming setup. the air smelled faintly of vanilla, thanks to the diffuser you kept running to set the mood. locking the door behind you, you exhaled deeply and began preparing for the night.

the routine was familiar, almost comforting. you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water relax your muscles as you mentally ran through the checklist. after drying off, you slipped into your costume for the night—a delicate white lace dress with baby blue accents that hugged your body in all the right places.

at the vanity, you carefully applied your makeup, adding just enough to transform yourself into collette, your cam girl persona and paired with a small mask that covered your eyes and half of your nose. the wig was the final touch, a wavy style that framed your face perfectly, making you almost unrecognizable from your day-to-day self.

“let’s see,” you adjusted the camera angle to capture the bed and the soft glow of the fairy lights behind it.

you glanced at the table beside the bed, where the new toys you’d promised to showcase were neatly arranged. taking one last look in the mirror, you marveled at how different you looked.

“all right,” you muttered to yourself, glancing at your reflection one last time. “let’s get this show started.”

you hit start on your stream, and the chat immediately flooded with messages, emojis, and tips.

“hi, guys!” you greeted, your voice shifting into a higher, sweeter tone. “missed you all so much during the break.”

the messages came in rapid-fire:

“omg collette’s back!”

“you look stunning as always.”

“been waiting for this for weeks!”

you giggled, leaning closer to the camera so that your cleavage filled the frame. “you’re all too sweet. did you miss me that much?”

the chat practically exploded with affirmations, and the pings of tips coming in made you smile wider.

“i see you guys like the new outfit,” you teased, slowly standing to give them a full view of your legs, moisturized and shimmering under the warm light. “but i didn’t just dress up for no reason. i have a surprise for you tonight.”

you reached for the toys on the desk, holding one up for the camera. “look what i got during the break,” you said, biting your lip playfully. “i thought you’d want to help me break them in.”

the tips surged as viewers expressed their excitement, but one notification caught your eye. andyp4rk02 has tipped $100.

you grinned, recognizing the username instantly. “hi, andy,” you said, your tone dropping to something more intimate. “you’re late today. i thought you’d ditched me for someone else.”

a new ping followed, this time $50, accompanied by a highlighted message: “sorry ;) private livestream later to make it up to you?”

you laughed softly, leaning back on the bed. “hmm,” you tapped your chin thoughtfully. “i think i can squeeze you in on my busy schedule.” with a wink, you moved to grab one of the toys, careful not to linger too long on a single viewer.

“shall we begin?” you asked, spreading your legs slightly to reveal that you were wearing nothing underneath the flimsy lace dress.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

on the other side of the screen, jisung sat in his dimly lit dorm, his face illuminated only by the glow of his computer. he’d barely made it back in time, his breath still heavy from the sprint across campus. it didn’t help that the second he clicked into your livestream, you were already spread out on the bed, teasing the camera with that perfect smile.

he adjusted his glasses nervously, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. his heart was racing, but not from the run. no, it was from you. when you spread your legs, his breath hitched, and he felt his stomach tighten.

“you’re late today,” you’d said, and jisung shivered. god, it was like you were talking directly to him. well, you technically were, but still.

almost as if on autopilot, he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down. his fingers wrapped around himself, and he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the screen.

the angle of the camera was perfect. from his perspective, it was easy to imagine that it wasn’t the pink dildo but his own dick sliding in and out of you.

“fuck,” he whispered under his breath as you slid the dildo inside yourself, your lips parting in a perfect "o" shape as you let out a soft moan.

“feels so good,” you breathed into the camera, your lashes fluttering. “can you make me feel good, too?”

“yes,” jisung groaned, his voice shaky as he gripped himself tighter. “god, yes.”

your moans grew louder, your body arching in a way that made his pulse skyrocket. his brows furrowed, and he bit down on his lip, trying to keep quiet so none of his roommates would hear.

you tilted your head back, the camera catching the curve of your neck and the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. “don’t stop,” you whimpered.

as your voice came through his headphones, sultry and sweet, he muttered to himself, “so perfect. so perfect it’s insane.”

his hand moved faster, his mind filled with nothing but the image of you—so close, yet so untouchable.

he leaned closer, his breath fogging the screen for a moment. “god… i can make you feel so much better than that piece of plastic,” he muttered, his tone almost resentful.

“you don’t even know what i’d do to you,” he whispered

in a minute, jisung came hard, his entire body jerking as his cum shot up and splattered directly onto his keyboard and monitor. he barely registered the mess he made until he heard the faint crackle of his PC struggling under the assault.

“no, no, no—fuck!” he exclaimed, his voice cracking as he scrambled to wipe the pc with the sleeve of his hoodie.

it was too late. the screen flickered, the image of you mid-moan freezing for a few painful seconds before the whole system shorted out with a pathetic wheeze and went black. jisung sat there in stunned silence for a moment, his hand still clutching the stained hoodie sleeve.

“shit…” he muttered, not out of concern for his destroyed PC but because he was now going to miss the rest of your live.

this wasn’t the first time this happened. clearly, his setup was already on its last legs from similar incidents but it still sent a wave of frustration through him.

he slumped back in his chair, running a hand through his damp hair. “guess i’ll just have to catch the replay,” he mumbled, though the thought didn’t satisfy him nearly as much.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the first day of the semester loomed the next morning. you had promised yourself this was the year you’d start fresh. on time to every class, taking meticulous notes, and becoming the academic weapon you’d always meant to be.

of course, none of that happened.

you didn’t hear your alarm because you’d been up until 3 a.m. doing private livestreams for your top subscribers. normally, private sessions didn’t last more than 20 minutes, but andy had an uncanny way of distracting you with his playful, teasing messages, keeping you hooked well past the scheduled time.

you ran into your first class fifteen minutes late, panting slightly and trying not to look as frazzled as you felt. the professor shot you a disapproving look, but a quick apologetic smile from you had him stammering and waving you off. men are so simple, you thought smugly.

after quickly scanning the room, you noticed all the front-row seats were taken which left you with no choice but to settle near the back. you sighed and headed to an open seat in the second-to-last row, cursing your luck.

on your right sat some frat guy you vaguely recognized from the same house as karina’s boyfriend. his name escaped you, but since he was already asleep with his mouth hanging open, you didn’t bother introducing yourself.

on your left, the person was less immediately recognizable. he was hunched over, hoodie drawn tight around his face, typing furiously on his laptop. his long, slender fingers flew across the keyboard with precision, but he didn’t seem remotely aware of your presence.

you cleared your throat softly, hoping to get his attention. nothing.

you tried again, slightly louder this time, but his focus didn’t waver. finally, you tapped his shoulder lightly.

“excuse me, did i miss anything important?”

his fingers froze mid-typing, but he still didn’t look at you. instead, he tilted his laptop slightly in your direction, revealing a neatly formatted list of bullet points. most likely corrections to the syllabus the professor went over at the start of class.

“oh,” you said, caught off guard. “can i take a pic of that?”

he gave a small nod, still not meeting your eyes.

you quickly snapped a photo and smiled. “thank you so much,” you said, your tone warm as you instinctively squeezed his forearm in gratitude.

you felt his entire body stiffen under your touch, his arm tense as if you’d zapped him.

“mhm…” he finally muttered, his voice low and rough from disuse.

you glanced at him again, catching a glimpse of his side profile as he adjusted his hoodie. sharp jawline, glasses slightly askew, and lips pressed into a thin line as he quickly returned his focus to his laptop.

you tilted your head slightly, curiosity piqued. something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it.

“well, thanks again,” you said softly, giving him one last smile before turning back to face the professor.

behind his laptop, jisung exhaled shakily, the spot where you’d touched him burning.

jisung knew you were one of haechan’s friends. he’d watched you walk in and out of the dorm more times than he cared to admit. you were always laughing, tossing your hair over your shoulder in a way that made jisung’s eyes land on you unavoidably.

normally, he wouldn’t even glance twice at the girls his roommates brought around. they were all the same: loud, shallow, and obsessed with their reflection in any shiny surface.

but you weren’t like them.

he’d noticed it the first time you came over. how your voice was softer, more melodic, how you smelled like warm vanilla instead of the overpowering floral perfumes he hated. he remembered catching a glimpse of you bending down to grab something off the floor and how his gaze lingered too long on the curve of your legs before he snapped his head away.

since then, it had only gotten worse. it annoyed him that his brain seemed to remember every little detail about you. the way your lips always looked plump and shiny, as if you’d just licked them. how your laugh was this low, throaty sound that made his chest feel tight.

it was frustrating, how easily you wormed your way into his thoughts.

and now, here you were, sitting next to him. jisung felt trapped, his senses overwhelmed by your closeness. the faint rustle of your skirt, the way your knee accidentally grazed his thigh, the soft, almost unintentional hum you made as you shifted in your seat.

he knew it was all normal, just small, insignificant things. but to him, it felt like you were doing it on purpose. when you tapped his shoulder, jisung’s heart practically jumped out of his chest. his first thought was how warm your hand was.

his second thought was how unfair it was that you could touch him so casually.

“did i miss anything important?” you asked, your voice sweet, your smile even sweeter.

jisung didn’t respond right away. he was too busy trying not to look at the way your lips curved when you spoke. he knew if he opened his mouth, something embarrassing would come out. so instead, he tilted his laptop screen toward you, his fingers twitching against the keyboard. you asked if you could take a picture, and normally he didn’t like sharing his notes but he nodded before he could even stop himself.

“thank you so much,” you said, your voice dripping with warmth. and then, as if to kill him on the spot, you squeezed his forearm lightly.

jisung felt like static electricity was zipping through his body. his skin tingled where you touched him, and he stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge how his breath hitched.

she doesn’t even know what she’s doing, he thought bitterly, his jaw tightening. so damn oblivious.

when you crossed your legs, jisung’s eyes flickered downward before he could stop himself. he caught the briefest glimpse of skin, the hem of your skirt riding up just enough to reveal more of your thigh, and his face flushed.

stop it, he scolded himself, tearing his gaze away.

but he couldn’t help it. he hated himself for it, but he couldn’t stop the way his imagination spiraled. he wondered what it would feel like if you touched him for more than a second. if your fingers lingered. if you looked at him the way you looked at your stupid phone.

his hands curled into fists under the desk, nails digging into his palms. he shifted uncomfortably, trying to will his body into behaving, but your proximity was making it impossible to think straight.

when the professor announced that these would be your assigned seats for the semester, jisung nearly groaned out loud. six months. six months of sitting next to you, of your bare legs grazing his, of your infuriatingly sweet perfume clouding his brain.

how am i supposed to survive this?

jisung clenched his jaw, his gaze flicking to the faint sparkle of lotion on your legs again.

she probably doesn’t even know how many guys in this room would kill to sit where i’m sitting right now, he thought, biting the inside of his cheek.

and yet, despite everything, jisung couldn’t help but feel a sick sort of satisfaction at being this close to you. like he was privy to something no one else was.

and as messed up as it was, he liked that you didn’t know. that you had no idea how much space you took up in his mind.

he glanced sideways at you again, the corner of his lip twitching as you absentmindedly adjusted your skirt.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

jisung bought a new pc, but it wouldn’t be delivered until the end of the week due to delays in the post office. he hated waiting. the old one had been perfect for watching your livestreams but now he was stuck with his laptop. the smaller screen didn’t do you justice. everything felt cramped and wrong, your image reduced to something far too small and impersonal. it frustrated him to no end.

so, in his growing desperation, jisung resorted to something he swore he wouldn’t do: borrowing haechan’s pc. at first, he only asked when he knew haechan would be out for hours, spinning some lie about needing to work on assignments that required a better setup for coding. surprisingly, haechan didn’t question him. he barely seemed to care, too busy running off to hang out with you and your group of friends. lately, you all seemed closer than ever, constantly whispering and giggling amongst yourselves.

not that jisung cared, of course.

but ever since you’d started sitting next to him in class, he couldn’t help but notice you even more. the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs every six or seven minutes or tapped your temple when the professor talked about a complicated topic. he hated that he was paying attention to things he usually wouldn’t. it was a complete waste of time.

today, jisung was forcing himself to focus. he had an essay due tomorrow, and he’d been putting it off for way too long, distracted by you (clearly) and everything Collette— streams, photos, even the grainy replays he managed to dig up online. last night was supposed to be productive, but instead, he’d spent hours rewatching one of the camgirl’s older private streams. by the time he passed out, his laptop was dangerously close to falling off his bed, his boxers halfway down his legs, and his dick sore after a night of relentless jerking off.

he made his way to the library, determined to lock himself in one of the private study rooms and finally finish his work. he needed to focus. no distractions, no excuses.

but when he opened the door to the room he’d booked, all of his resolve shattered.

you were there.

your books and laptop scattered across the table, and you were leaning over, reaching for something just out of your grasp. jisung froze in the doorway, his breath catching as his eyes landed on you. or, more specifically, the strip of black lace peeking out from under your skirt.

he knew he should look away. but his body didn’t seem to get the memo. instead, his eyes remained fixed on the sight, his chest tightening as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room.

his fingers twitched at his side, gripping the strap of his bag until his knuckles turned white. why are you wearing that? he thought, the question racing through his mind before he could stop it. are you wearing it for someone?

you shifted slightly, turning your head as if you sensed someone behind you, and that was enough to snap him out of his trance.

“uh—sorry,” jisung croaked, his voice cracking embarrassingly. he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat. “i—uh—this is... my room. i mean, the room i booked.”

you turned fully to him, startled at first, but then your expression softened into a smile when you realized it was him.

“oh, jisung!” you said brightly, smoothing down your skirt. “i didn’t realize this room was taken. sorry, i’ve just been so distracted, i guess i wasn’t paying attention.”

he forced himself to meet your eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. you recognized him now. during the first week of the semester, you’d seemed to be trying to place him in your mind, but he figured you finally connected the dots and realized he was haechan’s roommate after all.

“it’s... fine,” he muttered, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. the sound echoed louder than it should have, making him wince. “i didn’t know anyone would be here.”

“well, i can leave if you want,” you offered, gesturing toward your scattered books and notes. “but if you don’t mind sharing, i really need to finish studying for a test tomorrow.”

jisung hesitated, his mind racing. on one hand, the idea of sharing a small, enclosed space with you was borderline terrifying. but on the other hand, the thought of you leaving made his stomach twist in a way he didn’t like to think too hard about.

“no need,” he mumbled, setting his bag down at the far end of the table. “you can stay.”

you beamed at him, and he felt a weird mix of pride and dread settle in his chest.

“thanks! you’re a lifesaver.”

you turned back to your laptop, leaving him to settle into his seat. jisung tried his best to focus on his essay, but his eyes kept drifting to you: the way you twirled your pen between your fingers, the way your lips pursed as you concentrated, the way your skirt kept riding up with every slight movement.

he bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his gaze back to his screen. his essay wasn’t going to write itself, and the sooner he finished, the sooner he could escape this.

but as jisung stared blankly at the screen, the words refused to come to him. his mind was too fogged up, the image of your black lace panties flashing at him. he could still feel the phantom heat pooling uncomfortably low in his stomach.

he adjusted his glasses for the tenth time in five minutes, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie sleeve. he needed to concentrate, needed to shove every inappropriate thought out of his head and focus on the stupid essay that was due in less than twelve hours.

but every tap of your pen, every soft sigh as you read your notes pulled his attention like a magnet. he could feel his skin prickling under the weight of his own thoughts, and it was starting to make him nauseous.

you shifted in your chair, crossing one leg over the other, and jisung caught a glimpse of your bare thighs again. he wondered how soft they’d feel under his fingers. he clenched his jaw, staring harder at the blinking cursor on his laptop. just focus. just write.

“hey,” you said suddenly, your voice soft but startling in the quiet room. jisung’s head snapped up so fast his glasses slipped down his nose.

“yeah?” he croaked, his voice coming out embarrassingly hoarse. he cleared his throat and tried again. “what’s up?”

you held up a book. “do you know anything about this? it’s for my history class, but i’m kind of lost on what the professor’s looking for.”

jisung blinked at the book, trying to register the title through the haze clouding his brain. the sight of your manicured fingers gripping the edge of the hardcover didn’t help his focus.

“uh… yeah, i think so,” he mumbled, his words fumbling over themselves. “i took that class last semester. what’s the assignment?”

you slid your chair closer to his, flipping the book open to a highlighted section. jisung stiffened as you leaned in, your shoulder brushing against his.

he could smell your perfume better now. it made his head swim, and his palms sweat.

“here,” you said, pointing to a passage. “i’m supposed to write an analysis on this, but honestly, it’s not making any sense to me.”

jisung forced himself to look at the page, his eyes skimming over the text even though he couldn’t process a single word. your proximity was unbearable, and the way you tilted your head to look at him made him hyper-aware of every inch of space between you.

“um,” he started, his voice cracking again. “it’s… about, uh, symbolism, i think. like how they use imagery to—”

his words faltered as your leg shifted, pressing briefly against his under the table.

“oh, i get it now!” you said, your eyes lighting up as you turned back to the book. “thanks, jisung, you’re really helpful.”

he swallowed hard, nodding stiffly as you returned to your side of the table. his hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his laptop, trying desperately to block out the lingering warmth of your touch.

as the first hour dragged on, jisung realized he’d barely touched his essay. instead, he found himself cataloging every little thing you did, learning more about your quirks and mannerisms than the topic he was supposed to be researching.

he noticed the way you squinted slightly when reading something closely. do you need glasses? the thought struck him out of nowhere, and the idea of you wearing a pair made his throat tighten and his dick stir to life.

you only seemed to use blue highlighters and matching blue post-it notes. the monochrome dedication was oddly satisfying to watch. jisung noticed you had a habit of twirling the highlighter between your fingers when you were deep in thought, the motion almost hypnotic.

when you weren’t sipping on your drink or snacking on something you’d fidget endlessly, picking up your phone, or tapping your nails on the table in an uneven rhythm. once, you opened an app but closed it just as quickly, as if scolding yourself for getting distracted. jisung smirked at that.

he noticed the way you pouted while typing, your lips forming a subtle, natural curve. every time you got stuck on something, you’d grab a blank page from your notebook and start scribbling aimlessly sometimes doodling stars or flowers in the margins, other times writing the same word over and over like you were trying to etch it into your brain.

you also had a habit of adjusting your necklace every few minutes, fiddling with the pendant as if grounding yourself. jisung wondered if it had some kind of sentimental value.

and then there was the small gasp you let out every time you found a passage you liked, quickly followed by you underlining it with almost comical precision. jisung thought it was cute, though he tried to push that thought away.

by the time the second hour rolled around, he was practically vibrating with tension. not just from the overwhelming presence of you, but from his own failure to accomplish anything.

you sighed softly and closed your laptop, stretching in your seat with a lazy grace that made his stomach flip. the movement caused your shirt to ride up slightly, exposing a sliver of skin and a tiny birthmark just above your hip bone.

jisung’s eyes widened. it was a small, and it was a flushed, pinkish hue, vaguely resembling the shape of a flower petal—or maybe a heart if he squinted.

why does that look so familiar?

he frowned, his brain scrambling to piece together the connection. it snagged at him, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. had he seen it on you before? no, that didn’t make sense.

and then it hit him.

his heart stuttered as he remembered one of the streams he’d watched not long ago… collette’s stream. she’d been wearing lingerie that night, black with sheer panels, and at one point, she’d adjusted the waistband, revealing a glimpse of a tiny birthmark right above the hip.

holy shit.

jisung’s face burned as he realized the truth, his hands clenching into fists under the table. he couldn’t believe it. the girl he’d been obsessing over online, the one he’d jerked off to more times than he could count, was sitting right next to him.

he stumbled out of his seat, movements clumsy and frantic as he fumbled to gather his things. his hands trembled slightly as he zipped his backpack and he mumbled some half-formed excuse about having plans with haechan. the words tumbled out so quickly they were barely coherent. before you could even process what he was saying, let alone respond, he was already at the door, practically tripping over himself in his rush to leave.

“what an odd kid,” you giggled to yourself, shaking your head at his bizarre behavior.

he was strange, sure, but undeniably cute in his awkwardness. you’d always had a soft spot for guys who didn’t know what to do with themselves, and jisung was no exception. there was something endearing about the way he seemed perpetually out of place, like he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. but beneath the oversized hoodies and baggy sweatpants, you could tell he was hiding something.

he had broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his clothes in a way that made you want to see more, and you still hadn’t forgotten the time he’d stripped off his hoodie on that unbearably hot day. the hem of his shirt had lifted with it, giving you the briefest glimpse of his waist, narrow and impossibly toned. you’d been thinking about that moment more often than you’d like to admit.

sitting next to him in class had only amplified things. you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted toward you every few minutes, his gaze lingering on your legs before he quickly looked away, as if he thought you wouldn’t notice. that’s exactly why you made it a point to only wear skirts to that class; short ones, ones that made it impossible for him not to look. it was a game, one you were starting to enjoy far too much.

you liked his hands too. he had large hands with long, slender fingers that flew clumsily over the keys of his laptop. you caught yourself staring at them during class, imagining how they’d feel against your skin, the way they’d grip your waist or tangle in your hair. you wondered if they were soft or if they’d leave a pleasant roughness behind.

his glasses added to the appeal, big-framed and slightly crooked on his nose. they couldn’t hide his soft, pretty eyes, though, or the moles scattered across his pale skin. every detail about him seemed perfectly crafted to make him irresistible in the most unassuming way.

but then there was the question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind, the one you couldn’t seem to shake: was jisung really your top spender? your friends had been so sure, pointing out all the coincidences, and you couldn’t deny that it was starting to feel like too much to ignore.

you smiled to yourself at the thought, unable to help the way your lips curled into something slightly wicked. haechan had mentioned how much time jisung spent in his room, his activities hardly a secret if you listened to the muffled sounds that occasionally slipped through the walls.

the idea made your pulse quicken, a thrill running down your spine as you considered how to take things to the next level. if jisung was your top spender then he was already yours in ways he probably didn’t even realize.

you toyed with the idea of making the first move, testing the waters to see just how far you could push him. he was skittish, easily flustered, and you had no doubt that one well-placed touch or whispered word would send him into a complete meltdown.

you suspected that if you really went for it, jisung might just have a heart attack on the spot. and for some reason, that thought only made you want to do it more.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the next time you met him in class, you decided it was time to confirm once and for all if he was into you. you dressed for the occasion, a skirt that showed just enough leg to make him squirm, paired with a low-cut top and your favorite push-up bra, the one that made your boobs look perfect. you threw on a sweater for good measure, unzipping it casually when you sat next to him, just enough to reveal the curve of your collarbones and the top of your cleavage.

“hey, jisung!” you said, your voice soft and lilting.

he barely looked at you, his lips moving in what you assumed was a greeting, but it was so quiet you couldn’t make out the words. he didn’t hold your gaze for more than a second, and from the way he kept staring at his laptop, you wondered if he’d even noticed the effort you put into your outfit.

you leaned in slightly, catching the faint scent of his detergent mixed with something musky. “sungie?” you whispered, your voice low and sweet.

his jaw clenched at the nickname, and his hands froze over his laptop keys. “hm?” he finally managed, his eyes flickering up to your face for the briefest of moments before darting away again.

“do you want to work on the project together?” you asked, tilting your head innocently.

his brows furrowed as he blinked at you, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and panic. “what… what project?” he stammered, his voice shaky, his breath audibly hitching when his gaze unintentionally dropped to your chest.

“the one he just announced,” you said, nodding toward the screen where the professor had outlined the details of the group assignment.

you watched as his Adam's apple bobbed with a nervous swallow, and he peeled his eyes away from you with visible effort. “oh… uh…” he trailed off, biting his lip. the gesture drew your attention to just how plush and soft they looked.

“if you don’t want to, it’s okay,” you said, leaning back slightly, your pout deliberate and perfectly executed. “i just thought since you helped me with my assignment last time, you’d be a good partner.”

he glanced at you again, his gaze lingering this time, as if trying to gauge your expression. your wide, hopeful eyes seemed to make his decision for him. “okay…” he mumbled, the word barely audible.

“really? yay!” you said, your voice bright with excitement as you reached out and wrapped your hands around his arm in a playful squeeze. the movement was quick, but enough for your chest to press lightly against him, the warmth of your body radiating through his hoodie.

jisung stiffened immediately, every nerve in his body firing off alarms. the combination of your softness and the faint scent of vanilla clinging to your skin was almost enough to send him over the edge. he inhaled deeply, trying to keep his composure, but the air felt thick and suffocating, and he was perilously close to letting out a moan that would’ve humiliated him in front of the entire room.

“i promise i won’t be a burden,” you added, flashing him a dazzling smile that showcased your perfectly sized teeth. “i’ll do my part, i swear.”

he nodded mechanically, his brain too messed up with the feel of your body against his and the lingering image of your lips curling into that smile. “y-yeah…” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly.

as you turned your attention back to the professor, jisung exhaled slowly, his pulse racing. his hands gripped his laptop so tightly his knuckles turned white, and he realized with growing dread that this partnership might actually kill him.

when class ended, you stayed behind, which was unusual since you were usually one of the first to dart out the door. as jisung zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, he noticed you looking at him expectantly. he panicked. did he have something of yours?

jisung glanced nervously at his belongings, double-checking as if your pencil or notebook might have somehow ended up with him. but you didn’t say anything. the silence stretched awkwardly until you finally stood up.

since the rows were so narrow, your movement brought you close… too close. jisung gulped as you stepped into his space, your perfume wrapping around him. he tightened his grip on his backpack straps.

“do you wanna start working on the project now? i have classes every day, and my evenings are pretty busy, so…” your voice trailed off meaningfully. jisung knew. oh, he knew. your evenings were reserved for livestreams. his evenings were also reserved for your livestreams. obviously, the project couldn’t cut into those sacred hours.

“uh, okay… do you wanna go to the library?” he managed, pushing his glasses up his nose. they kept sliding down because he had to crane his neck to look at you from this close distance.

“sure! next time, we can work at your dorm. i’d offer mine, but we have a strict no-boys policy in the apartment,” you said with a laugh, then added, “though my roommates break that rule all the time.”

“what about you?” the question tumbled out of jisung’s mouth before his brain could intercept it. his eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe he asked that

but you didn’t seem fazed. instead, you grinned. “you know, a lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” you teased, throwing in a wink that made his brain implode just a little.

as you spoke, jisung’s gaze flitted over you again—your mannerisms, your voice, that unmistakable charisma. the longer he looked, the more it hit him like a sledgehammer to the face. how had he not recognized you as collette sooner? sure, you wore a mask on the streams, and your hair was styled differently, but it was unmistakable now. you were her. and yet, standing here in front of him, you felt even more unattainable.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

at the library again, you couldn’t find a private room since you hadn’t booked ahead, so you settled for a secluded table tucked into the corner of the study area. it was jisung’s favorite spot on campus, not that he’d ever admit that to you. he didn’t want to look more like a loser than he already did.

you’d tied your hair up in a ponytail, and jisung wished you hadn’t. the simple change opened up your neck and collarbones, exposing more skin for his eyes to betray him over. he swore he could count the faint freckles scattered across your shoulders if he stared long enough. and, god, did he want to.

jisung sighed, pressing his palms into his eyes in an attempt to reset his brain. he needed to focus. if he was going to make it through this study session, he needed to stop thinking about your freckles or how your lip gloss shimmered every time your mouth moved.

focus, jisung. he started mentally listing the least sexy things he could think of: spongebob, frogs, khaki jeans, loud chewing. he even dredged up the memory of his fourth-grade math teacher, a grumpy woman he was convinced secretly hated him. it worked, until he realized you were talking to him, and he’d been staring straight past you like an idiot.

“sorry, what was that?” he blurted, blinking rapidly and focusing in on your glossy lips forming the last word of whatever you’d said.

you tilted your head slightly, your ponytail swaying with the movement. “i said, do you want to split up the research? or do you just want to work on the same section together?”

“uh…” jisung’s brain scrambled for footing, his face heating up again. “splitting it up is fine. yeah. let’s do that.”

you smiled at him, and he swore it felt like the library got ten degrees hotter. “great! i’ll take the first half, and you can take the second?”

“sure,” he mumbled, fumbling to pull out his laptop. as you turned back to your notes, jisung caught himself glancing at your neck and down to your cleavage again. frogs, he thought desperately. frogs. khaki jeans. loud chewing. but none of it helped.

he needed a cold shower. desperately. every time you leaned into him, jisung’s resolve cracked a little more. he was barely hanging on as it was, his left hand glued to his lap, pressing down in a feeble attempt to hide the semi he’d been sporting for the last twenty minutes.

“what do you think of this?” you asked, sliding your laptop toward him. your voice was sweet, your tone light and inviting, but jisung couldn’t focus on anything except how close you were.

“that’s good,” he mumbled quickly, trying to sound casual even though his throat felt like sandpaper.

“really?” you tilted your head, eyeing him skeptically. “you say that about everything i show you.”

“cause you’re really good at this,” he blurted out. he pressed harder on his lap, his fingers twitching in frustration.

you laughed softly, the sound making his heart stutter. then, to his horror, you gave him a slow once-over, your eyes narrowing slightly as you studied him. “you okay? you look tense.”

“yup, all good,” he said too quickly, his voice high-pitched. he glued his eyes to his laptop, pretending to focus on the passage in front of him, though the words blurred together into an unintelligible mess. please stop looking at me, he begged silently. please.

but instead, you cocked your head, resting your chin in your hand. “you know,” you began thoughtfully, “you sound like someone i know.”

jisung froze. fuck.

his mind went blank, panic flooding his system. his ears burned, and he felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. did you figure it out? do you know?

“but it couldn’t possibly be,” you said, shaking your head slightly as you turned back to your notes. “you’re too different.”

he released a shaky breath, his heart pounding so violently it felt like it might burst through his ribs. his lips pressed into a tight line as he risked a glance at you. so you did remember andy. jisung had assumed that with so many followers, even your most loyal supporter might fade into the background of your memory. but the private livestreams, the filthy words jisung had whispered that made you moan harder, all the praises and compliments he showered you with—it seemed those had stuck with you. because you remembered his voice.

“i’m gonna use the restroom really quick,” you said, standing up abruptly.

jisung’s eyes followed you as you walked away, the sway of your hips distracting him momentarily before reality snapped back into focus. as soon as you were out of sight, he groaned, his shoulders slumping as he looked down at his lap and the unmistakable tent that had formed there.

he needed to take care of this. now.

standing up, jisung winced at the sensitivity and began making his way toward the bathroom, his head down in an attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone. but just as he approached the hallway, he caught the sound of muffled voices. one of them raised, the other low and pleading. his steps faltered when he recognized your voice.

he crept closer and pressed himself against the wall, just barely peeking around the corner. there you were, gesturing wildly, your brows furrowed in anger as you stood toe-to-toe with someone jisung instantly recognized as sungchan, the captain of the basketball team.

“i told you to leave me alone,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “texting me from taro’s phone? really? now you’re dragging other people into this? why can’t you just understand that i want nothing to do with you anymore?”

“y/n, please,” sungchan said, his tone dripping with desperation. “i don’t know what else you want me to do. i’ve apologized a million times, and i’ve cut all communication with her. i haven’t seen her in months.”

he took a step closer, but you shoved him back by the chest.

“you should’ve done that before fucking her, don’t you think?” you laughed bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“hey, it didn’t mean a thing to me, you know that,” sungchan said, his voice softening as he reached for your hip and squeezed. “you’re the only one i want.”

your body stiffened at his touch, and you glared up at him. “don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he didn’t move, his grip firm.

jisung’s jaw clenched. his fists balled at his sides as his eye twitched. why the hell was this guy touching you when it was clear you didn’t want him to?

“c’mon, baby,” sungchan purred, leaning in dangerously close to your neck. “you know i’m the only one who can make you feel good.”

before jisung could stop himself, he was stepping out from behind the corner. he cleared his throat loudly. the sound startled no one, so he did it again, this time pairing it with a sharp, “hey.”

his voice came out deeper than he expected, reverberating in the narrow hallway.

sungchan’s head snapped up, pulling away from your neck as he turned to look at the interruption. your eyes widened when they landed on jisung, standing there taller than usual, his broad shoulders squared.

“just wanted to check if you were alright,” jisung said, his gaze fixed on you, his voice steady.

sungchan’s expression darkened as his grip on your hip tightened. “and who the hell are you?” he spat, his tone venomous.

jisung didn’t flinch at sungchan’s hostility. his dark eyes flickered to your hip, where sungchan’s hand still rested, and then back to sungchan’s face.

“her partner,” jisung said evenly, his tone calm yet carrying a subtle edge. technically, he wasn’t lying, you were his group partner. “and she doesn’t look too comfortable right now.”

you glanced at jisung, your lips parting in surprise. sungchan let out a dry laugh, his hand finally dropping from your hip as he turned to fully face jisung. he towered over most people, but jisung stood his ground, unbothered by the difference in height.

“you’re her partner?” sungchan sneered, looking jisung up and down with a smirk that screamed condescension. “you don’t seem like her type.”

jisung’s jaw tightened, but his expression remained neutral. he looked at you instead, his voice softening slightly. “you sure you’re okay?”

your lips pressed together as you nodded quickly, your hands fidgeting at your sides. “i’m fine, jisung. really.”

but sungchan wasn’t done. “jisung, huh?” he repeated, his smirk widening. “sounds familiar. oh, wait—” he tilted his head, mockingly stroking his chin. “aren’t you that quiet little nobody who’s always hiding in haechan’s shadow?”

jisung didn’t react to the insult, though his nails dug into his palms. “that’s me,” he said with a shrug, his voice still maddeningly steady. “and you’re the guy who can’t take a hint and harasses girls.”

sungchan’s smirk dropped instantly, his expression hardening. “what did you just say?”

“you heard me,” jisung replied, his voice low. he adjusted his glasses with one hand, his confidence only making sungchan’s irritation grow. “she asked you to leave her alone, didn’t she? or was that too complicated for you to understand?”

you blinked at jisung, momentarily stunned at his boldness. sungchan, on the other hand, took a step forward, his fists clenching.

“listen here, you little shi—”

“stop!” your voice cut through the tension. both jisung and sungchan turned to look at you. you stepped between them, your expression firm as you faced sungchan. “i meant what i said, sungchan. this is over. stop calling me, stop texting me, stop showing up where i am. just—stop. i don’t want to see you anymore.”

sungchan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring as he stared at you. “fine,” he finally said, his voice clipped. “but don’t come crawling back when you realize no one else is gonna treat you like i did.”

jisung couldn’t hold back the quiet scoff that escaped him, and sungchan shot him a glare before storming off down the hallway.

as the echo of sungchan’s footsteps faded, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly. you turned to jisung, your expression both grateful and embarrassed.

“thanks,” you said softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “you didn’t have to do that.”

jisung shrugged, his face a little pink as he adjusted his glasses again. “it’s no big deal. i just… couldn’t stand there and do nothing.”

“still, i appreciate it. my knight in shining glasses” you gave him a small smile.

jisung’s ears burned at the nickname, and he looked away, suddenly very interested in the floor. “ha, yeah.”

you laughed lightly “c’mon,” you said, gesturing toward the library’s main area. “let’s continue working”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you continued having sessions for the project after class, and slowly, jisung started coming out of his shell. he still mumbled and stuttered every now and then, especially when your attention lingered on him for too long, but he was starting to hold actual conversations now. and once he got going, it was hard to stop him. he’d gush about the most random things, like his favorite video game characters or how much he hated remakes of old horror movies. sometimes, he’d pull up conspiracy theory videos about aliens on his phone, his voice picking up speed as he rambled about the possibility of extraterrestrial life.

“i mean, think about it… how could we be the only ones in this massive universe? that’s just statistically improbable,” he’d say, adjusting his glasses as he leaned closer to show you grainy footage of a supposed UFO. you’d nod along, amused by his enthusiasm, even if half of it went over your head.

you also learned jisung had a thing for metal music. he shyly pulled out his phone one day to show you his collection of signed albums from bands you’d never even heard of. “this one’s from when they did a secret show in busan,” he explained, his fingers tracing the signatures like they were sacred artifacts. “and this? their first album. impossible to find in good condition.”

“wow, you’re really into this,” you said, smirking as you scrolled through the pictures. “so... are you in a band or something?”

he flushed immediately, shaking his head. “no, no! i’m not cool enough for that,” he muttered.

you couldn’t help but smile. “i think you’re cool,” you said simply, and his ears turned pink.

but jisung’s curiosity didn’t stop at music or aliens. he was fascinated by the simplest things. one time, you brought a new lip gloss to class—the kind that didn’t smudge or rub off no matter what. jisung had been so impressed that he begged you to show him how it worked.

“wait, so it stays on? like, even if you eat something? how?” he asked, eyes wide as you swiped some on the back of your hand.

“even if i kissed you right now it wouldn’t come off”

“oh… w-what’s in it? do you have the ingredients list?” he stuttered, his hand coming up to his face to hide the blush on his cheeks.

you laughed. “are you serious right now?”

“yes! this is pretty cool,” he said shyly. “i need to know.”

he was, all in all, a total nerd. but you found that endearing. you liked how he could get so passionate about the smallest details, even if he didn’t realize how cute he looked when he did it.

what you wanted to know most, though, was if he was really loaded. after all, someone had to be, to spend eighteen thousand dollars like that. one particular evening, while you were working on the project at a cafe, you decided to subtly bring it up.

“so... you said you tutor a lot of students, right?” you asked, stirring your iced coffee.

jisung nodded, flipping through his notes. “yeah. it’s decent money, especially before exams.”

“and you... do homework for them too?” you added, raising an eyebrow.

he hesitated, looking a little guilty. “only when they pay extra,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “but yeah. it’s not a big deal.”

“huh,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “you must be really good at it to make that much money.”

“i mean, i guess,” he mumbled, avoiding your gaze. “but it’s not that much.”

“you sure about that?” you teased, giving him a knowing look. “because eighteen thousand isn’t exactly chump change.”

his head snapped up, and for a moment, he looked like a scared hamster. “w-what?” he stammered.

“nothing,” you said, smiling innocently.

he went back to his notes, but you didn’t miss the way his hand trembled slightly as he flipped the page. interesting.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the next time jisung almost had a heart attack because of you was after one particularly grueling day of tutoring half of sungchan’s frat. he’d spent hours going over equations with guys who clearly had no interest in learning and had been on edge the whole time, doing his best to avoid running into sungchan himself. all the bravery he’d mustered at the library had definitely worn off.

he finally made it back to his dorm, exhausted and ready to collapse, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight of you sitting prettily on the edge of his bed, flipping through one of the XXX magazines sitting on his desk. his eyes widened, and his mouth opened to say something, but no words came out.

you noticed him and laughed at his expression. “one of your roommates let me in,” you said, your voice light and teasing. “i think his name’s jaemin?”

jisung blinked, his brain struggling to process. “uh… yeah, jaemin,” he managed to stammer.

“i came to see haechan, but he wasn’t in,” you explained, crossing your legs in a way jisung was so familiar with now. “so i thought i’d pay my new best friend a visit.”

his stomach did a full somersault as he realized you were talking about him. “oh… uhm, hi” he said weakly, scratching the back of his head as he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him.

“hi,” you echoed with a grin, holding up the magazine. “some interesting reading material you’ve got here.”

“t-that’s not mine,” he blurted out, his face flushing red. “it’s haechan’s. i swear.”

you tilted your head, clearly unconvinced but too amused to care. “no need to be embarrassed,” you said casually, placing the magazine back on his desk. “you’re not the first boy in whose room i’ve found porn.”

jisung’s ears burned, and he had no idea how to respond to that. “right…” he muttered, shifting awkwardly.

“your room’s cleaner than i expected,” you added, glancing around.

“did you think i’d be messy?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“hmm, more like… sloppy,” you said, arching a brow in a way that could only be described as suggestive.

jisung swallowed hard, unsure if you were flirting or just messing with him. either way, his brain was short-circuiting. “oh?” he said, his voice coming out higher than he intended.

you laughed and leaned back on your hands, watching him with that same playful glint in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m just messing with you.”

he let out a small, nervous chuckle and stepped further into the room, trying to act like your presence wasn’t completely throwing him off. “so, uh… what brings you here?” he asked, carefully setting his backpack down.

“just bored,” you said with a shrug. “and since you’re my new best friend, i figured you’d entertain me.”

he blinked. “entertain?” shit, he almost got hard just hearing that.

“obviously,” you said, grinning. “you’re way more fun than haechan anyway.”

jisung doubted that, but he wasn’t about to argue. instead, he sat down at his desk, desperately trying to ignore how pretty you looked sitting on his bed.

“how about you show me how to play that game you talked about?” you asked, walking over to him and resting your arm on his gaming chair.

jisung blinked up at you, startled. “you wanna learn how to play League of Legends?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

“sure. it sounded fun when you told me about it,” you said with a casual shrug.

“uhm, okay then,” jisung said, his voice a little higher than usual as he leaned to flip the power switch on his PC. then he paused, realizing he didn’t have an extra chair. “wait, let me go borrow haechan’s chair,” he said quickly, jogging out of the room.

when jisung returned, chair in hand, his steps faltered. you were leaning over his desk, your skirt riding up just enough to show him what color were your panties today. his first thought, entirely unhelpful, was how badly he wanted to bend you over that desk. his second thought, unfortunately delayed, was that you had turned on his monitor.

and on the screen, clear as day, was his account page.

“so, it was you,” you said, the tone of your voice laced with triumph.

jisung’s eyes widened, panic flaring to life. “what—what are you talking about?” he stammered, dropping the chair with a clatter.

“andyp4rk02,” you said, your voice lilting with satisfaction as you turned to face him, crossing your arms. “i felt it was you. but i’m glad to have a confirmation now.”

jisung froze, his breath catching in his throat as his brain scrambled for something to say. “i—uh—what—”

“you’re not even gonna try to deny it?” you teased, stepping closer to him, the corner of your mouth quirking up in a smirk. “honestly, i was starting to think i was crazy. but you just confirmed it.”

“i—it’s not—” jisung’s voice cracked as he tried to speak, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.

you tilted your head, watching him struggle with an almost predatory gleam in your eyes. “relax, jisung. i’m not mad,” you said, your tone softer now, though it didn’t erase the teasing edge. “in fact…” you took another step closer, your voice lowering slightly. “i’m intrigued.”

“huh?” jisung’s voice was barely above a whisper, his throat dry as he tried to process what you were saying.

“the one thing i’m most curious about,” you said, taking a step closer, your tone casual but your gaze sharp, “is how you… a freshman, who doesn’t seem to have a job besides tutoring, managed to splurge thousands of dollars on me?”

jisung swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “i just…” he mumbled, looking away, his ears burning as he avoided your piercing gaze.

“c’mon, don’t be shy.” you leaned in slightly, your smirk widening. “andy would’ve bent me over that desk over there and started spilling every single thing i asked for.”

jisung’s eyes snapped up to your face, wide with shock. how did you know exactly what had flashed through his mind mere seconds ago?

“s-sorry,” jisung stammered, looking like he wanted to shrink into the floor. “this is just… are you really not uncomfortable? with me, i mean?”

“why would i be?” you asked, tilting your head as though the question itself was ridiculous. “i’ve gotten to know you better now. i know you’re not a weirdo or anything.”

jisung blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky wasn’t blue. “but i—i mean, with everything i said to you before… all of that—”

“all of that was online,” you cut him off smoothly, your tone light. “and honestly? i think it’s kinda cute how much you adored me. well, adore me,” you corrected with a sly grin.

jisung’s jaw dropped slightly, his face somehow heating even more. “you… think it’s cute?”

“of course,” you said with a soft shrug, your tone so casual it was almost disarming. “you’ve been sweet this whole time, even when you were trying so hard to hide it. honestly, i’m flattered.”

your lips curled into a teasing smile as you leaned in just slightly. “but now, i want to know—” your voice dipped lower, warm and slow. your eyes locked with his, drawing him in without effort. “how did you manage it? the money, i mean.”

jisung swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he struggled to form a coherent response. “well… uhm…” he shifted nervously, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “i… saved up a lot of money since i was a kid,” he began, his voice quiet but steady as he forced himself to meet your gaze.

“i made a system,” he continued, his words gaining a bit more confidence as he explained. “i cashed a lot of favors, even in school. i’ve been doing other people’s homework since primary, practically. also…” he hesitated, his eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before darting back to you. “my dad… he started giving me an allowance every month when i was 14, and i never really used it for anything. so… i’ve just been saving. for a long time.”

you tilted your head slightly, clearly intrigued. “wow,” you murmured, crossing your arms in thought. the movement wasn’t intentional—or maybe it was—but it pushed your cleavage up just enough to make jisung’s brain stutter.

his eyes flickered down for half a second before he froze, his face turning crimson. his chest tightened, his breath shallow, because he was sure that if he so much as brushed against you right now, he’d moan like some desperate, pathetic fool.

“that’s… impressive,” you added, breaking the silence, though your tone had shifted, tinged with something almost playful. “you must’ve been really dedicated to saving all that up.” your words hung in the air, light and teasing, but your gaze lingered, as if searching for something deeper.

“y-yeah,” jisung stammered, his hands fidgeting by his sides. “i guess i’ve just… always been good with managing money.”

“clearly,” you said with a grin. you leaned in slightly, your voice dropping just enough to send his heart into overdrive. “it’s kinda sexy, you know.”

jisung’s brain went blank, his entire body tensing as if he couldn’t process what he’d just heard. sexy? he repeated in his mind, struggling not to outwardly combust. his mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out, and the only sound was the faint hum of his computer in the background.

“you okay?” you asked, your smile widening as you noticed his wide-eyed expression.

“y-yeah,” he managed to croak out, though his voice cracked slightly.

“relax, jisung,” you said, stepping closer, your fingers brushing the edge of his sleeve. his breath hitched, and you couldn’t help but smile at how utterly helpless he looked under your gaze.

“i-i am,” he stammered, but the way he gripped the desk behind him for support said otherwise.

you laughed softly, tilting your head as your hand slid up his arm, fingers ghosting over his bicep before trailing down to rest lightly on his chest. “sure you are,” you murmured, leaning in so your lips were just inches from his ear. “you’ve been nervous since you entered the room.”

“i… i’m not nervous,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“oh, really?” you teased, letting your hand slip under the hem of his shirt. your fingertips grazed the warm skin of his stomach, and he jolted, sucking in a sharp breath. “but you’re trembling.”

“t-that’s not—” his words were cut off when your other hand came up to brush the hair out of his face, your touch gentle yet firm as you tilted his chin up to meet your eyes.

“you’re so cute,” you whispered, your thumb lightly grazing his jawline. his eyes widened, his lips parting slightly.

“you’ve been so sweet to me, sungie,” you continued, your voice dropping lower. “how could i not want to thank you?”

“t-thank me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you leaned in, pressing a featherlight kiss to his cheek, so close to the corner of his mouth that he let out an involuntary whimper. “mhmm,” you hummed, your lips brushing against his skin as you moved to the other side, leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jawline.

jisung’s breathing was ragged now, his chest rising and falling rapidly as your hand slid further up his shirt, your nails grazing lightly against his ribs. “is this okay?” you asked softly, your lips hovering near his ear.

“y-yeah,” he managed to choke out, his voice trembling.

“good,” you murmured, pressing a kiss just below his ear, then another on the side of his neck. his hands gripped the edge of the desk so tightly his knuckles were white, and he let out a shaky breath, his head tilting slightly to give you more access.

you smirked, trailing your lips back up to his cheek, stopping just short of his lips. “you’re so quiet now,” you teased, your fingers lightly tracing circles on his stomach. “no more stuttering?”

“i… i don’t…” jisung panted, his words trailing off as your lips brushed against the corner of his mouth.

“you don’t what?” you asked, pulling back just enough to meet his dazed gaze. his eyes were half-lidded, his face flushed, and his lips parted as he struggled to catch his breath.

before he could answer, the sharp buzz of your phone vibrating broke the moment. you blinked, startled, and jisung let out a shaky exhale, his head dropping back against the wall in relief… or frustration.

“hold that thought,” you said, your voice still low as you reached into your pocket. your fingers lingered on his stomach for a moment before you pulled away completely.

jisung watched in a daze as you checked your phone, your lips pressing together. “looks like i’ve got to go,” you said, slipping the device back into your pocket.

“w-what?” he stammered, his voice cracking again as he stared at you in disbelief. “y-you’re leaving?”

“for now,” you said with a wink, stepping back and smoothing your skirt. “don’t miss me too much, okay?”

jisung could only nod dumbly, still leaning against the desk like his legs might give out at any moment.

“oh, and jisung?” you added, pausing at the door. he looked up, his wide eyes meeting yours. “you might want to take care of… that.” your gaze flicked downward for just a moment, and his face turned a brilliant shade of red as he scrambled to adjust his shirt.

you laughed, shooting him one last playful smile before disappearing out the door, leaving him flustered, breathless, and utterly unable to think about anything else but how good your lips felt on his skin.

that night, jisung lost count of how many times he jerked off. by the time he was done, he was so spent he didn’t even bother cleaning up properly. he passed out with a mess of cum smeared across his abdomen, his sheets damp and sticking to his skin.

the sound of retching woke him up.

he groaned, squinting as the sunlight poured directly onto his face. blinking sleepily, he turned his head to see haechan standing at the foot of his bed, his face twisted into an expression of pure disgust.

“look at the state of you…” haechan said, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. “seriously, dude, your dick’s gonna disintegrate if you keep going like this.”

“get out,” jisung groaned, voice hoarse. he rolled over, pulling the blanket halfway over his head to shield himself from both the sunlight and his roommate’s judgment.

“i would, but i have a message from y/n,”

jisung sat up at the sound of your name. his heart pounding as if he’d been jolted with electricity.

“she said she can’t meet you at the library today…”

jisung froze, the sudden buzz of energy deflating into cold panic. “oh,” he said softly, his voice laced with disappointment.

his mind immediately began spiraling. were you avoiding him? now that you knew he was andy, did you think he was a creep? were you disgusted? did you regret what happened yesterday? every terrible scenario played in his head as he stared blankly ahead, anxiety tightening its grip on his chest.

before he could spiral further, haechan continued, dragging out his words for dramatic effect.

“…she said she wants to meet you somewhere else instead.”

jisung’s head snapped toward him. “what?”

“she said she sent you the address and tried calling, but your phone’s off.”

his eyes darted to the floor where his phone lay facedown. practically leaping out of bed, he stumbled over the blanket, barely managing to stay upright as he grabbed the phone and plugged it into the charger.

“relax, dude. she’s not breaking up with you,” haechan said with a smirk.

“shut up,” jisung muttered, his focus entirely on the phone as it turned back on. when the screen finally lit up, he saw your message waiting for him.

his thumb hovered over it before he opened it. the address you’d sent was for a studio about thirty minutes away from campus. jisung frowned, his mind racing again. why there? what kind of place was it? and more importantly, how was he supposed to get there?

he groaned, already planning how he could convince jeno to lend him his car for the evening. but before he could get too far into his thoughts, he noticed haechan still standing there, arms crossed and a suspicious look on his face.

“what?” jisung asked, narrowing his eyes.

“nothing,” haechan said, but the grin spreading across his face said otherwise. “have fun tonight.”

with a wink, haechan strolled out of the room, leaving jisung standing there, equal parts nervous and excited, as he tried to figure out just what you had planned.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

by the time jisung reached the address you sent, he was soaked through to the bone. his hair sticking to his forehead, dripping rainwater down his face, and his clothes clung to his skin, cold and uncomfortable. jeno had flat-out refused to lend him his car, so jisung had to take the bus. the bus stop was two blocks away, and by the time he’d sprinted there in the pouring rain, his sneakers squelched with every step.

he stood now, breathless and drenched, staring up at the old building in front of him. the windows were grimy, and the exterior had an eerie, almost abandoned feel to it. with a reluctant sigh, he pushed the heavy door open and stepped into the lobby. it was completely quiet. the reception desk was empty, and no one was in sight, so he made his way up the narrow staircase to the third floor.

when he reached the door, his heart was hammering. should he have texted to let you know he was here? was he being too forward? after a beat of hesitation, he knocked, his knuckles tapping softly against the wood.

the door swung open after his third knock.

there you were, looking impossibly beautiful. your pink flowy dress caught the light, the fabric swirling around your legs as you smiled up at him. he’d never seen you wear a dress like that before. your makeup was flawless, more than usual, and the sight made his breath catch in his throat.

"you’re really punctual," you said with a soft smile, stepping aside to let him in.

but jisung didn’t move at first. his eyes scanned the space around him as he took it all in.

“is this…” he breathed in disbelief.

“welcome to collette’s studio.” you patted him lightly on the back, gently pushing him further inside.

“i wanted you to see it,” you continued, walking ahead, your fingers brushing against the smooth white sheets of the bed that dominated the center of the room. you glanced back at him with an expectant look.

jisung felt like he’d been dropped into one of his wet dreams. "i’m…" his words faltered as his senses overloaded, trying to catch up with what was happening.

"in shock?" you giggled softly, the sound light and airy. "you’re the first person i bring here."

"really?" he asked, his backpack slipping off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a soft thud.

“you brought your notes?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips.

"yeah…" he stammered, feeling foolish now. "aren’t we gonna finish… the project?"

your gaze locked with his as you moved closer, your presence drawing him in. his eyes flicked nervously to the neon sign hanging on the wall.

"hm, we can… or we could do something more fun?" you suggested, your voice a soft temptation. you stepped closer, until there was barely any space between you two.

jisung tried to keep his composure, but his body betrayed him. every inch of him stiffened as you moved into his personal space.

"i have a proposal for you, sungie," you said, your voice lowering, honeyed and sweet. your hand found its way to the back of his neck, your fingers tracing the skin there lightly, coaxing a soft sigh from his lips.

"y-yeah?" he breathed out, eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment at the sensation of your touch.

"would you like to guest on my channel?"

jisung’s eyes snapped open, disbelief painting his expression. “what?… y-you mean… do a livestream with you?”

he could barely comprehend what you were saying, his brain scrambling to process the words. "but you… you never do that… it’s always just collette."

you smiled softly, a glint of something mysterious dancing in your eyes. "you’re right, but for a while, i’ve been thinking of changing that. i just never found anyone i trusted enough for it."

jisung’s mind was racing. he couldn’t believe this was happening. you, asking him? how many times had he imagined being in this room, taking you in that very bed? but now that the opportunity was right in front of him, he was frozen. what if he wasn’t enough? what if he couldn’t satisfy you like you wanted?

“it’s okay if you don’t want to… it was pretty sudden of me to ask this,” you said, sensing his hesitation. you slowly withdrew your hand from his neck, leaving him cold and wanting more.

jisung panicked. he didn’t want you to think he was rejecting you, but the fear of embarrassing himself in front of not only you but a whole audience gripped him tight. what if he couldn’t live up to your expectations?

but then again, the thought of you finding someone else to do this with made his stomach twist with anxiety. he couldn’t back down now.

with shaky hands, he finally nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "i’ll do it."

“really?” you asked, your voice tinged with genuine surprise. you hadn’t expected him to agree. jisung didn’t exactly strike you as the type to willingly step into the spotlight, let alone in this particular way. this had every potential to go sideways.

but there he was, standing in front of you, his expression a blend of nervousness and determination. he looked like he was trying to keep himself from bolting.

you extended your hand toward him, watching as his gaze flickered down to it. he hesitated, just for a moment, before his much larger hand engulfed yours. his touch was clammy, his grip tentative, but it was enough.

“have you done this before?” you asked, glancing back at him as you led him toward the bed.

he looked utterly petrified, like a deer caught in headlights, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. “a livestream, you mean? uh… yeah, i’ve—uh—seen a few… i mean, no! not seen, done! wait, i mean—”

you chuckled softly, cutting off his flustered rambling. “no, silly. i meant… is this your first time having sex?”

your tone was so casual and devoid of any judgment that it caught him completely off guard. his entire face went up in flames. he nodded slowly, his lips pressed into a tight line.

your smile softened, and you stepped closer, placing your hands lightly on his chest. “then, we should practice before turning the camera on, don’t you think?”

he swallowed hard, his lips parting in a nervous attempt to respond, but no words came out. he simply nodded, his breaths shallow and uneven when you pushed him down onto the bed.

you reached for the straps of your dress and slid them off your shoulders, the fabric slipping down your body and pooling at your feet. jisung’s eyes went wide, his lips slightly parted as he stared at you. his gaze flickered nervously, starting at your feet and slowly working its way up, lingering on the delicate white lace of your underwear. he looked like he was on the verge of tearing up.

you moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. the sudden pressure made him suck in a sharp breath, his hands hovering awkwardly at his sides.

“tell me what you like,” you murmured, leaning in just enough for your lips to ghost over the shell of his ear.

“w-what do you mean?” his voice cracked, and he looked up at you with wide, panicked eyes. his hands were still frozen in place, unsure of what to do, so you gently took them and placed them on your waist.

“you can touch me,” you said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “when you watch my streams… what do you like?”

his whole body tensed, his fingers spreading hesitantly over your waist. he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, but at the same time, he couldn’t seem to look away. “uhm… i-i don’t know… i… i pretty much like everything,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“do you like when i use the toys?” you asked, your lips brushing against his as you spoke.

“y-yes,” he breathed, the word coming out shaky and unsteady.

“do you like it more when i lay down or when i sit?” you asked, trailing your hands under the hem of his shirt and tugging it up.

his breath hitched as you motioned for him to stand. he obeyed, his movements clumsy as he pulled off his shirt and hesitated with his pants. his hands trembled as he pushed them down, leaving him standing there in just his boxers, his face burning crimson.

“uhm” he started, his voice cracking. he swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the floor before flicking back to you. “when you sit?”

the second the words left his mouth, you pushed him gently, and he stumbled back onto the bed with a gasp. the flush on his cheeks deepened, spreading to the tips of his ears, as he looked up at you with anticipation.

“good,” you murmured, your fingers trailing along his chest. “then let’s see if you like this more.”

the sight of you straddling his lap made jisung’s throat go dry, his mouth parting slightly as his breath quickened. was this really happening? was he actually about to lose his virginity with the girl he had spent countless nights fantasizing about? every inch of him buzzed with nervous energy, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he might actually cry—happy tears, of course, but still tears.

before his mind could spiral further, he felt the soft press of your lips against his. the sensation was so unexpected and overwhelming that he whimpered without meaning to. the sound would’ve embarrassed him any other time, but he was too lost in the moment to care. his lips parted instinctively, allowing your tongue to slide into his mouth, deepening the kiss.

your fingers threaded into his hair, massaging his scalp, and a low moan escaped him. the warmth of your touch was intoxicating, but then your hips shifted, brushing against the hardness in his boxers, and jisung gasped into your mouth.

“shit,” he whispered, his voice shaky as his hips jerked up in response, pressing himself against your core. the friction drew a needy, broken moan from you that he immediately wished he could record and replay for the rest of his life. his head fell back slightly, breaking the kiss.

“how does that feel?” you murmured, grinding your hips against him again. “hm?”

“g-good… so… go—” his words trailed off, his eyes snapping open as he caught you unclasping your bra. the sight of you now bare from the waist up making him forget how to breathe.

he’d seen you topless before on your livestreams, but this was something else entirely. now, you were right in front of him, real and tangible. your breasts were perfect, even better than his wildest dreams, and his hands twitched on your hips, desperate to touch but unsure if he even had the right to.

“go ahead,” you said softly, as if you’d read his mind.

jisung hesitated, the thought flashing through his mind: am i even worthy of this? but before doubt could take hold, you grabbed his hands, guiding them to your chest.

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his fingers trembling as they cupped the warm, supple flesh. the softness beneath his palms made his head spin, and he instinctively squeezed, earning a quiet hum of approval from you. “so… perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, shyness seeping into his tone.

you smiled at him and leaned in closer, pushing your chest into his hands. his thumbs grazed over your nipples, and you bit your lip, the simple action making his heart feel like it might pound out of his chest.

“you’re doing so well, sungie,” you praised, your words wrapping around him like a warm blanket. he felt his confidence grow just a little, his hands becoming bolder as he continued to touch you, mesmerized by how soft and warm you were.

“c-can i…?” he trailed off, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.

“go ahead,” you encouraged, and his mouth descended hesitantly, leaving a tentative kiss on the curve of your breast. the feeling was so new that he couldn’t stop the soft groan that escaped him.

jisung pressed his lips against your skin again, this time lingering a little longer. he felt the soft rise and fall of your chest beneath him, and it was mesmerizing. the warmth, the way you smelled faintly of vanilla, and the soft sighs you let out as he kissed along the curve of your breast—it was too much for him, and not enough all at once.

you tilted your head back slightly, giving him more room, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he kissed lower. his tongue darted out, shyly tracing your skin, and he heard you hum in approval. the sound sent a jolt straight through him, and his hips involuntarily bucked up into yours, pressing against your core.

“that’s it, sungie,” you murmured, your voice like velvet, guiding him. “you can touch more if you want. i don’t bite”

the teasing lilt in your voice made his entire face flush, but it also spurred him on. he let one hand wander, sliding up your side hesitantly before it cupped your other breast. his touch was still timid, his thumb brushing over your nipple experimentally. when you gasped softly and your hips shifted against his, jisung nearly lost it.

“does that feel good?” he asked, his voice barely audible, shaky and full of nerves.

“mhmm,” you nodded, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear. “you’re doing so well.”

the praise made him braver, and he leaned back slightly to look at you. your hair was slightly mussed, your lips parted, and your eyes were hooded as you gazed down at him. you looked like a dream, like something he’d only ever dared to imagine in the privacy of his own room.

jisung’s breath came in shallow pants as he watched you. your skin was soft, and your scent filled his senses, making it impossible for him to think about anything else.

“take these off too,” you murmured, your fingers tugging lightly at the waistband of his boxers.

his entire face burned crimson as he nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he hooked his thumbs under the fabric and began to slide them down. his heart was pounding so hard he thought it wasn’t normal, but the thought of stopping never even crossed his mind.

you leaned back just enough to give him room, watching as he pushed the boxers down his hips, his movements awkward and nervous. once he kicked them off completely, he sat there, completely bare before you, his hands fidgeting at his sides as he avoided your gaze.

“hey,” you said softly, reaching out to tilt his chin up so he’d look at you. “don’t be shy. you’re perfect, sungie.”

his eyes widened slightly at your words, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“you’re really cute when you’re flustered, you know that?” you teased, leaning in to kiss him again. this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, and jisung melted into it, his hands finally moving to rest on your waist.

you shifted in his lap, pressing your core against him, and he gasped into your mouth, his hips jerking up instinctively.

“s-sorry,” he stammered, pulling back slightly, his face a deep shade of red.

“don’t apologize,” you said, brushing your fingers through his hair. “you’re doing so well.”

your praise made his chest swell, and he swallowed hard, his eyes flicking down to where your bodies were pressed together.

“touch me more, sungie,” you encouraged, taking his hands and guiding them up your sides, over your ribs, until they were back on your chest.

his fingers trembled as they cupped you, his thumbs brushing over your nipples experimentally. when you let out a soft moan, his confidence grew, and he leaned down to kiss your neck, his lips trailing lower until they found the curve of your breast.

“just like that,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair again as he continued exploring your body.

your hands slid down his back, your nails grazing his skin lightly, and jisung shivered under your touch. his own hands started to roam more boldly, tracing the curve of your waist, the small of your back, and finally settling on your ass.

you shifted again, grinding down against him, and he let out a choked moan, his head falling against your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

“you’re so sensitive,” you murmured, kissing the side of his neck.

“i… i c-can’t help it,” he stuttered, his voice shaky. “you’re… you’re just…”

you smiled, pressing a finger to his lips to hush him. “it’s okay, sungie. just let me take care of you.”

he nodded, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continued to move against him. every touch, every kiss, every sound you made drove him closer to the edge, and he didn’t know how much more he could take.

you leaned back slightly, reaching between your bodies to tug your panties down, and jisung watched with wide eyes as you discarded them. he couldn’t believe this was happening, like any moment he might wake up in his bed, alone and frustrated.

“are you okay?” you asked, your voice soft as you looked at him.

“y-yeah,” he said quickly, nodding. i just can’t believe this is real, he wanted to say but he was scared he’d sound like a loser.

“wait a second,” you said, sliding off his lap, the sudden loss of your weight making jisung let out a soft, involuntary hiss.

his eyes darted down, and he realized—much to his horror—that his dick was now standing proudly at full attention, no longer constrained by his boxers. in his mind, it was almost mocking him, like it was giving him a thumbs-up for finally letting his hand rest after all those nights of longing for you. jisung felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over him, and his first instinct was to grab a blanket or pillow to cover himself.

just as he was about to reach for one, his attention was drawn to you. you were bent over by your bedside drawer, rummaging through it with an air of purpose. then, you pulled something out, holding it up for him to see… a shiny silver wrapper.

a condom.

jisung felt like his heart stopped beating for a second as he stared at the little package in your hands. something about seeing it made everything feel impossibly, undeniably real.

“ultrathin… so you can feel everything,” you said casually, your voice laced with amusement as you turned back toward him.

goodness, she’s gonna kill me. jisung thought, swallowing hard as he swore his dick twitched at your words.

“you’re quite big, sungie…” you mused, crawling back onto the bed with a grace that made his breath hitch. you moved toward him slowly, your eyes dark with intent. the way you approached him reminded him of a lioness stalking her prey.

“let’s see if it fits,” you added, a playful smile on your lips as you straddled his thighs.

jisung was completely frozen, his pulse pounding in his ears as he watched you unwrapping the condom with practiced ease. your hands moved so skillfully, the shiny material glinting faintly in the light. then you paused, looking up at him with a question in your eyes.

“may i?” you asked softly, your voice almost sweet, though your expression held that same predatory confidence.

“y-yeah,” he stammered, the word barely audible as he nodded frantically. in his mind, he was screaming, please, yes, god, yes.

the corner of your mouth quirked up as you leaned forward. your fingers were gentle but firm as you grasped his dick, and jisung couldn’t stop the shuddering gasp that escaped his lips. you slid the condom over him with ease, the mix of precum and the lubricant on the condom making it glide smoothly down his shaft.

it fit perfectly.

“fits you like a glove,” you murmured, your tone teasing as you leaned back to admire your handiwork.

jisung didn’t know what to do. his hands twitched at his sides, his mouth slightly open as he tried to breathe through the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.

then, without warning, you slid up his body, settling back onto his lap. the sudden pressure against his dick made him let out a low, shaky moan.

“ready?” you asked, your voice softer now, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned forward.

jisung swallowed hard, his wide eyes meeting yours. “y-yeah,” he croaked, his voice cracking slightly.

you lifted yourself slightly, aligning him with your entrance. jisung was trembling under you, his hands gripping the sheets as if holding on for dear life.

"breathe, sungie," you whispered, stroking his chest gently. his wide, panicked eyes met yours, and you smiled softly to reassure him.

he nodded quickly, forcing himself to take a shaky breath. when he exhaled, you sank down just a little, the tip of him slipping inside. his whole body jerked in response, a desperate, broken moan escaping his lips.

“fuck…” he muttered, his head falling back against the pillow. his grip on the sheets tightened, his knuckles turning white. the heat, the wetness, the feeling of you was unlike anything he’d ever imagined.

“good?” you asked, tilting your head as you hovered above him, testing his reaction.

“s-so good,” jisung gasped, his voice trembling. “so… tight… warm…”

you couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction, but you didn’t tease him. instead, you lowered yourself further, slowly taking him inch by inch. jisung’s breathing grew heavier with every movement, his hips twitching upward involuntarily as if his body couldn’t help but chase the sensation.

"easy," you murmured, pressing a hand against his chest to still him. "let me take care of you."

jisung nodded dumbly, biting his lip as he tried to stay still. his eyes were fixed on you, watching every little movement you made in adoration.

when you finally took all of him, you let out a soft sigh of relief, adjusting to the stretch. jisung, on the other hand, looked like he was seconds away from imploding.

"you're... you're perfect," he blurted out, his voice breaking with emotion.

you laughed softly, leaning down to brush your lips against his. “you’re pretty perfect yourself, sungie.”

you gave him a moment to catch his breath, your hands gently running up and down his sides to calm him. when you started to move, lifting yourself slowly and sinking back down, his head shot up from the pillow.

“oh my god—” jisung groaned, his hands flying to your hips instinctively. “oh my god, oh my god…”

his grip was unsure, as if he didn’t know whether to hold on tighter or let go. his hips bucked slightly beneath you, and you gasped at the unexpected movement.

"you're doing so well," you encouraged him, your voice breathy but soothing. you leaned forward, kissing the corner of his mouth before nipping at his jaw.

jisung whimpered at the praise, his hands sliding up your sides as he tried to ground himself. his lips found yours again, and this time, he kissed you with a bit more confidence, his tongue shyly seeking yours.

you rolled your hips against him, drawing a strangled moan from deep in his chest. his reactions were so genuine, so raw. it made your heart race just as much as his.

“faster,” he whispered against your lips, surprising both you and himself. his cheeks flushed red immediately after the word left his mouth.

you smiled, pressing your forehead against his as you obliged, picking up the pace. his grip on your hips tightened as he tried to meet your movements, his breaths coming faster and more uneven.

“you’re close, aren’t you?” you asked softly, brushing his damp hair out of his face.

jisung nodded rapidly, his eyes squeezed shut as his whole body tensed beneath you. “i—i can’t… i can’t hold it,” he stammered, his voice breaking with desperation.

“it’s okay,” you reassured him, your voice gentle. “let go for me, sungie.”

the permission was all he needed. with a choked cry, jisung’s hips jerked upward, and he came harder than he ever thought possible. his whole body trembled as he gripped you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder as he rode out the waves of pleasure.

you held him through it, running your fingers through his hair and whispering soft words of encouragement. when his breathing finally started to slow, you leaned back slightly to look at him.

his face was flushed, his chest heaving, and his eyes glazed over as he tried to process what just happened.

“you okay?” you asked, stroking his cheek gently.

jisung blinked up at you, a dazed but blissful smile spreading across his face. “y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice hoarse. “that was… amazing.”

you laughed softly, leaning down to kiss him again. “you did so well, sungie.”

he blushed at the praise, his hands resting on your thighs as he tried to steady himself. “thank you,” he mumbled shyly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“don’t thank me yet,” you teased. “we’re just getting started.”

the next day...

“sungie,” you said, your voice soft and slightly breathless. you were sprawled out on your couch, your notes and research scattered across the coffee table, all but forgotten.

“last night’s livestream got the most views i’ve had in months,” you murmured, looking down at him. “they must like you.”

jisung looked up from between your legs, his glasses fogged and slightly crooked on his face. his lips were swollen and glistening with your arousal, his cheeks flushed a deep red.

“really?” he asked, only half-interested. but before you could respond, he dove back down, his eager mouth finding your folds once again.

a sharp gasp left your lips as his tongue traced over you. this was already the second time today he’d eaten you out, and he’d only gotten better since his first attempt this morning.

earlier, you’d guided him through it, patiently showing him what felt good, what didn’t, and how to read the reactions of your body.

jisung’s long tongue worked wonders, licking and teasing in ways that had you gripping the cushions for dear life. when he sucked gently on your clit and flicked his tongue over it in quick succession, your thighs quivered against his head. he took note of the way your hips bucked involuntarily, doubling down on the action and making you cry out.

“you’re such a quick learner,” you panted, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly to spur him on.

he hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your core. the sound was almost self-satisfied, as though he was proud of the way he had you unraveling beneath him.

the combination of his inexperience and raw enthusiasm was intoxicating. jisung wasn’t just doing this to please you. he genuinely wanted to understand every inch of you, to learn what made you tick and what brought you to the edge.

and he was succeeding.

your thighs clenched around his head, your body arching off the couch as he alternated between languid strokes of his tongue and quick flicks against your most sensitive spot. “s-sungie, oh my god,” you whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening.

he pulled back just enough to look up at you, his glasses messier than ever. “does that mean i’m doing good?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled, and for a second, his shy, eager-to-please demeanor broke through.

you let out a breathless laugh, your hand cupping his cheek affectionately. “you’re doing amazing, baby.”

his lips quirked into a bashful smile before he returned his attention to your core, determined to coax another round of trembling moans from your lips.

jisung park, you thought as you teetered on the edge of bliss, was quickly becoming an overachiever in the best way possible.

a/n: my inbox is always open for any comments about the fic! thank you for reading <3

#nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct imagines #nct smut #nct dream fic #nct dream smut #nct #park jisung #jisung x reader #nct jisung #jisung smut #jisung x you #nct fic #nct moodboard #jisung imagines #nct dream x you #nct dream

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cloudtransprncy · 4 months ago

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Ningning x Karina x Male Reader | 18k words Tags: 3sum, blowjob, deepthroating, spit play, hair pulling, breast play, nipple play, dirty talk, dominance, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, body worship, rough sex, two hot bitches feral for cock

Bio can wait. The two baddest bitches at school just told you to skip class with them. Who the fuck would say no? Especially when its Karina and Ning.

no this is not in the same universe as "dumb" :P

The moment you push through the doors to your school's dance room, you know your plan for a solo practice is finished. Karina and Ningning are sprawled against the mirror wall, a perfect picture of cool indifference that somehow makes the empty room feel smaller.

They're wearing what they always wear—simple but devastatingly effective. Karina in high-waisted gray sweatpants that pool slightly at her ankles, paired with a fitted black long-sleeve crop zip up that rises just enough when she stretches. Ningning in similar wide-leg pants but with a simple white off-shoulder top that somehow makes her collarbones look like art. Both outfits say "I barely tried" while looking impossibly put-together.

They're those girls at school—the ones with presence, the ones who command attention without trying.

Everyone on the dance team is attractive in their own way—but they have that something extra. You've seen it countless times during team practices: the way other dancers give them space, how even the coach seems to hold their breath when they perform.

Karina's scrolling through her phone, platinum blonde waves cascading over her shoulders as she absently twists a strand of Ningning's dark hair between her fingers. Ningning has one AirPod in her ear, her dark eyes drifting up to catch yours before you even announce yourself. The contrast between them is striking—Karina's cool blonde presence against Ningning's warm, dark features—perfectly complementary in the way they occupy space.

"Of course," you mutter, dropping your bag near the door with a thud that's maybe a little louder than necessary.

Of course they taking up the whole floor (they're not)

You try to play it casual, hyper-aware of every movement you make. That's the thing about being dancers—you notice details. Sometimes you catch Karina's eyes lingering on you during practice, or notice how Ningning always ends up stretching near you, but you tell yourself it's nothing. Just the usual dance team dynamics. You're all physical people; boundaries blur. It doesn't mean anything.

Ningning stretches her arms over her head. "What are you pissed for? There's like, so much space."

"I need the whole floor to go full out," you say, gesturing vaguely to the room. "I'm working on that new combo."

Karina snorts without looking up from her phone. "Yeah, because you need the entire studio to practice the same eight-count for an hour."

Ningning laughs, then tilts her head slightly. "You wanna dip with us instead?" Her blonde-tinted waves fall over one shoulder as she shifts to look up at you, dark eyes expectant.

You're instantly torn. Dance has made you disciplined—fit, clean, and sharp on the floor—and that same discipline usually keeps your grades steady. Usually. But there was that chem test last week. And the English paper you turned in late. And now Bio tomorrow, which you're definitely not prepared for.

"Can't," you say, even as your eyes drift to where Karina's top meets the waistband of her sweatpants. "I've got a test next period. If I bomb another one, Coach will bench me for sure."

Karina finally looks up from her phone, golden-rimmed eyes locking with yours in the mirror. Your reflection stands tall behind theirs, and for a moment, the three of you make a symmetrical composition in the glass.

"That's cute," she says, a smirk playing at her lips. "Choosing bio over us." She shifts, her shoulder brushing against Ningning's, and something passes between them—some silent communication that makes Ningning bite her lower lip to suppress a smile.

"Pussy," Karina adds, the word landing soft but deliberate.

The question hangs in the air, and something in the atmosphere shifts. They're still draped against each other—Karina's head now resting on Ningning's shoulder, Ningning's fingers absently playing with the hem of Karina's top—but their attention is fully on you now. The casual indifference is gone, replaced by a focused intensity.

Karina's eyes narrow slightly, calculating. Ningning's lips part, just barely, like she's already anticipating your answer. The way they're looking at you makes your skin prickle with heat. It's the same look they get right before a performance—that blend of challenge and confidence that says they know exactly how good they are.

The logical part of your brain is still calculating how many points you need on tomorrow's test to maintain your eligibility for the showcase. You've already been warned about your grades. One more missed class and you might actually get suspended from the team. This isn't just about one bio test anymore.

But there's something about the way they're waiting, bodies still intertwined but faces turned toward you in perfect symmetry, that makes the decision feel momentous. Like this is some kind of turning point.

Your jaw ticks, just barely.

"Fuck it," you say finally, slinging your bag back over your shoulder. The relief on their faces is subtle but unmistakable, like you've passed some test you didn't know you were taking. "Say less."

The reason is simple, even if your GPA will suffer for it: you just wanted to hang with the two baddest girls at school. And when they both smile at you—Karina's slow and knowing, Ningning's bright and wicked—you can't bring yourself to regret it.

Not yet, anyway.

…

Ningning's house is just a short drive through the sprawl of suburban Southern California. By the time you arrive, all three of you are armed with Slurpees from a 7-Eleven pitstop—yours blue raspberry, Karina's cherry, and Ningning's a swirled mix of both that she sips like she's solved some great mystery of flavor.

Her room is exactly what you'd expect—a perfect blend of cozy and chaotic. Fairy lights wrap around the ceiling fan, with climbing ivy trailing down from the fixture, casting soft shadows across the walls. Posters cover nearly every inch of white space—Frank Ocean, SZA, Tyler the Creator, Tate McRae, Billie Eilish—with a round mirror breaking up the collage. Monstera plants thrive in the corner next to a small white bookshelf. The whole space glows in the afternoon light filtering through the windows.

You settle on the carpet, back against her bed, Slurpee in one hand, a bag of sour gummy worms in the other. But Karina? She's sitting directly on Ningning's lap, legs draped over hers, body leaned back lazily against Ningning's chest like they've done this a hundred times before. No hesitation, no awkwardness—just pure, easy closeness. They fit together the way bad bitches always do, like they know exactly how to take up space.

Leon Thomas hums from a speaker in the corner, his smooth vocals and the soft R&B bassline weaving into the atmosphere, just enough to fill the comfortable silence.

"Let's play a game," Karina says suddenly, her cherry-red nails tapping idly against Ningning's thigh.

"What kind of game?" You ask, already suspicious.

"Just questions. Truth only." Ningning grins, absently running her fingers through Karina's platinum hair. "I'll start easy. Who's the hottest on the team?"

You glance up from your drink, already knowing exactly where this is going. It's a setup. A trap.

You take a second, not too long, just enough to make it seem like you're actually considering your answer. But you know there's only one right response—the one even they would agree on.

"Chaewon."

"Fuck, such an obvious answer," Karina groans, throwing her head back dramatically. "She's so fucking hot."

"Ugh," Ningning adds, biting her lip. "I tried making out with her at Jungwoo's party last month and she wasn't feeling it. I almost died."

They exchange knowing looks, satisfied, like they'd already predicted your answer before you even opened your mouth. Karina leans back further into Ningning, reaching for her own Slurpee.

"Your turn," Ningning says, nodding at you.

You think for a moment. "Best dancer in the crew?"

"Me, obviously," Karina says without hesitation.

Ningning rolls her eyes but doesn't argue.

"Fair," you concede with a smile.

"My turn," Karina says, her voice dropping slightly. "Ever hooked up with anyone from the team?"

The question hangs in the air. It's an escalation, but not entirely unexpected.

"Yes," you answer, taking a sip of your Slurpee.

Their eyes widen simultaneously. "Who?" Ningning demands, leaning forward.

You shake your head. "That wasn't the question."

Karina narrows her eyes. "Sneaky. I respect it." She turns to Ningning. "That's definitely our next question."

"What about you two?" you ask, deflecting.

Karina shrugs. "Not with anyone from the team."

Something in her inflection makes you pause. "But with each other?"

They exchange a look, this one different—a silent communication you can't quite read. Without saying a word, Karina turns her head, meeting Ningning's eyes with a smirk. Ningning doesn't hesitate. She cups Karina's face and pulls her in, capturing her lips in a kiss that's anything but casual.

Jesusfuckwhat.

Karina's hand slides up to Ningning's neck, fingers tangling in her hair as their mouths move against each other. Ningning's other hand drifts down, boldly palming Karina's breast through her top. You watch, frozen, as Karina lets out the faintest sound against Ningning's lips.

Is this actually happening right now? Your throat goes dry as you try to process what you're seeing, your Slurpee forgotten in your suddenly tense grip.

When they finally part, Karina's lipgloss is smudged, and both are breathing heavier, their eyes dark when they turn to gauge your reaction. Neither says anything—they don't need to. The answer is written all over their flushed faces.

And they're just gonna act like that didn't happen? Like they didn't just—

"Your turn," Karina says, her voice noticeably huskier now, acting like she didn't just have her breast grabbed in front of you. "What's your biggest turn-on?"

You blink, trying to recalibrate. The game is apparently still on, despite the fact that your brain is still processing what you just witnessed.

You swallow. "Someone who takes control without asking."

Ningning smirks, running her thumb across her bottom lip to fix her smudged gloss. "Noted."

What the fuck is happening right now?

It's Ningning's turn, and she doesn't hesitate: "Who on the team did you hook up with?"

You consider lying, but decide against it. "Yujin."

That night in her car after the showcase. Her skin under your hands, the way she bit her lip to stay quiet...

"Shut the fuck up," Karina's jaw drops, her eyes widening with what looks suspiciously like jealousy. "Are you serious?"

"She's hot as fuck too, what the hell?" Ningning looks genuinely offended, sitting up straighter, dislodging Karina slightly. "How are you pulling the baddest girls and we didn't even know?"

Karina narrows her eyes. "When did this happen? And why didn't she tell anyone?"

Because she asked me not to tell anyone. Because it was just that one time. But you just shrug, enjoying their reactions more than you should.

The questions heat up rapidly.

"If you could do anything to anyone in this room right now, what would it be?" Karina asks, fingers now tracing patterns on Ningning's arm.

You consider your words carefully. "I'd rather show than tell."

"Bold," Ningning says with approval. "But you'll have to wait your turn."

"Ever watched porn with someone else?" Karina asks, changing tactics.

"No."

"Wanna start?" Ningning challenges, raising an eyebrow.

The game accelerates. Boundaries blur. Questions become increasingly explicit.

"Where's the riskiest place you've hooked up?"

"What's something you want to try but haven't yet?"

"Have you ever thought about either of us while getting yourself off?"

"If you could do anything to anyone in this room right now, what would it be?"

Your answers grow bolder. Theirs grow filthier. With each revelation, the space between you shrinks, though neither of them has moved from their position.

"Have you ever fantasized about being with two people at once?" Karina asks, no longer pretending this is just a game.

"Yes," you admit.

"Anyone specific in mind?" Ningning presses.

You look from one to the other, letting the silence answer for you.

With each answer, the air in the room grows thicker, charged, until Karina finally shifts on Ningning's lap to face you directly.

"You're pretty hot, you know that?" Her voice is smooth, casual, like she's just stating a fact. She doesn't look at you when she says it, just keeps tapping her nails, waiting to see how you react.

Ningning hums in agreement, finally meeting your gaze. "Especially when you dance."

You shift slightly, a near-imperceptible reaction, but they catch it. Of course they do. Dancers notice everything. The way your grip tightens slightly on your cup, the flicker of something unreadable in your eyes before you school your expression back into something neutral.

You keep your cool. You're unsure where this is going, but you don't back down.

Karina stretches her arms above her head, arching her back slightly against Ningning. The movement causes her top to ride up, exposing a sliver of skin at her waist. It feels too deliberate, too precise to be casual. Your mouth goes dry.

They know exactly what they're doing.

Ningning's hand settles on Karina's hip, fingers splayed possessively as she adjusts her position on her lap. You can't help but track the movement. The room suddenly feels ten degrees warmer, and you shift your position on the floor, grateful you're sitting cross-legged.

Karina takes a long sip of her Slurpee, her eyes never leaving yours over the rim of the cup. When she pulls away, she runs her tongue slowly over her cherry-stained lips, catching a drop.

Jesus Christ.

You blink rapidly, heart pounding against your ribs. Heat crawls up your neck, and you're acutely aware of every inch of your body—especially the parts now responding all too obviously to their performance.

They exchange one last look, a silent confirmation passing between them. Ningning's eyes darken slightly as she tilts her head, expression unreadable but sharp, like she's weighing something in her mind.

Then, just like that, she drops it.

"Yo, be honest, would you fuck both of us?"

Did she really just ask that?

The shift is immediate.

This isn't happening. This can't be happening.

Everything in the room feels different now—the air heavier, charged with something unspoken. Your heart hammers against your ribs as you process the question, trying to read their expressions for any sign they're messing with you.

You're caught between laughing it off or taking it seriously. But when you look at them, really look, you realize—

They're serious.

"Are you—" you start, voice catching slightly. "Is this for real?"

Instead of answering, Karina slides off Ningning's lap in one fluid motion, the kind of movement that reminds you why she's first in every formation. She kneels in front of you, close enough that you can smell her perfume—something expensive and subtle that's been driving you crazy all afternoon.

Her eyes never leave yours as her fingers find the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath to trace along your stomach. The touch sends electricity up your spine.

"We've been thinking about this since that showcase last month," Ningning says, her voice softer than usual as she moves to join Karina. "The way you danced that night..."

They were watching me?

Karina's mouth crashes into yours with unexpected hunger. It's not just a kiss—it's a claiming. Her tongue slides against yours, hot and insistent, tasting like the cherry Slurpee and something sweeter underneath. She sucks your bottom lip between her teeth, tugging just enough to make your breath catch. Her hands fist in your hair, pulling you closer, angling your head exactly how she wants it.

When she finally releases you, your lips are tingling, slick with her spit. You barely have time to gasp before Ningning turns your face toward her, her fingers digging into your jaw.

Her kiss is even more aggressive—open-mouthed and demanding. Her teeth graze your lip, biting down just hard enough to sting before soothing the spot with her tongue. You feel Karina's mouth on your neck now, sucking hard enough to leave marks, her hands shoving your shirt up roughly.

"Fuck," you breathe against Ningning's lips as Karina's nails rake down your chest.

Is this actually happening? Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Without warning, Karina's hand finds the back of Ningning's neck, pulling her away from you. For a brief second, you think something's wrong—until they crash together right in front of you, mouths colliding in a kiss that's nothing short of filthy. Karina's tongue slides along Ningning's bottom lip before pushing inside, Ningning moaning into her mouth, hands gripping Karina's waist to pull her closer.

Your hands move on instinct, reaching out to touch them. Fingers grazing Karina's sides, palm flat against Ningning's lower back. They don't stop kissing, but Karina reaches blindly for your hand, guiding it higher along her body until you're cupping her breast through her top. Ningning breaks the kiss just long enough to suck in a breath when your other hand slides down to grip her ass.

They continue making out, but now it's a performance for you as much as it is for them. Karina bites Ningning's lower lip, tugging it between her teeth while looking directly at you. A string of saliva connects their mouths when they briefly part before diving back in, messier this time, wetter. Ningning's hand finds the back of your neck, keeping you close, letting you feel their breath, almost encouraging you to join.

When they finally pull apart, both their lips are swollen, shiny with spit. Ningning pulls you in for another kiss, the taste of Karina still on her tongue. You can taste both of them now, the flavors mingling as Ningning licks into your mouth with deliberate slowness. Karina's fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. She drags her tongue up your throat, teeth scraping along your pulse point.

Ningning's fingers twist in your hair, yanking your head back further to expose more of your neck. The sharp pull sends a jolt straight to your groin. She works her way down the opposite side from Karina, leaving a trail of bites and kisses that make your skin burn. You're trapped between them, their bodies pressing against you from both sides.

The sensation of their mouths—one on your neck, one on your collarbone, then trading places with practiced coordination—is overwhelming. Karina sucks your earlobe between her teeth while Ningning's tongue traces the hollow at the base of your throat.

Then they're kissing each other over your shoulder again, but it's nothing like the controlled display from earlier. This is raw, messy, desperate. Karina moans into Ningning's mouth, their tongues visibly sliding against each other. Ningning's hand is still in your hair, Karina's palm flat against your chest, feeling your racing heartbeat. You watch, transfixed, as Karina's teeth catch Ningning's bottom lip, as Ningning's fingers tighten in Karina's platinum hair.

"Get the fuck up," Karina breathes when they finally pull apart, her lips swollen, a flush spreading across her chest. She grabs the front of your shirt, hauling you to your feet.

Ningning's already pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly aside. Her hands immediately explore your torso, fingers tracing the definition in your abs, your chest, your shoulders. Karina drops to her knees, working on your jeans, her knuckles deliberately dragging against your hardness through the denim.

"Goddamn," Ningning whispers, lips against your ear as her hands slide around to grip your ass. "Been wondering what you were hiding under those practice clothes."

"Sit," Karina commands, pushing you backwards until you hit the edge of the bed and drop down.

They stand before you, and for the first time, you get a moment to just... look. To really take them in.

Karina unzips her long-sleeve crop top with deliberate slowness, revealing an expanse of smooth skin inch by inch. Her collarbones cast delicate shadows, her shoulders slim but toned from years of dance. When the top finally falls away, the black lace of her bra is a stark contrast against her pale skin, barely containing her full chest. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her sweatpants, pushing them down her hips in one fluid motion, stepping out of them gracefully, her curves unmistakable even in the fading afternoon light.

Ningning watches your reaction to Karina, a smirk playing on her lips before she pulls her own shirt over her head. Her body is different—more delicate frame with gentle curves, her light blue bra a perfect complement to her fair skin. She stretches her arms overhead, an unnecessary movement that's purely for your benefit, showing off her slender waist and the subtle definition in her stomach. Her sweatpants come off next, revealing slim legs that somehow look even longer than they are.

They stand there for a moment, letting you drink them in. Karina in black lace, Ningning in light blue cotton that somehow looks just as sexy. Their dancer's bodies—Karina's fuller curves and Ningning's delicate frame—on full display.

Holy fucking shit. This cannot be real.

"Like what you see?" Ningning asks, head tilted, eyes dark with want.

Words fail you entirely. You just nod, mouth dry.

They move toward you in perfect tandem, the bed dipping as they climb on either side of you. The heat of their bodies is scorching against your skin. Karina's mouth finds your chest first, her tongue tracing a wet path from your collarbone down to your nipple. She bites down gently, watching your reaction through hooded eyes. Ningning works on the other side, her lips softer but no less insistent, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your shoulder.

Their hands explore every inch of you—Karina's nails scraping down your abs, Ningning's fingers tracing the V-line of your hips. You feel Karina's teeth against your ribs, leaving marks that will be visible tomorrow at practice. Ningning's tongue darts out to taste the salt on your skin, her hands gripping your biceps, feeling the muscles tense under her touch.

They work their way down your body with agonizing slowness. Karina's mouth blazing a trail along your stomach while Ningning's lips press against each vertebra of your spine. The dual sensation of their tongues—one hot against your abs, the other tracing the dimples at the small of your back—has you practically panting.

"Fuck, he tastes good," Karina murmurs against your skin, her words vibrating through you.

"Let me," Ningning replies, and suddenly they're trading places, Karina's weight shifting behind you while Ningning moves to kneel between your legs. She presses her mouth to your stomach, tongue dipping into your navel, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your jeans.

Karina's breath is hot against the back of your neck, her full breasts pressed against your back, nipples hard even through the barrier of her bra. "You like that?" she whispers, her hands sliding around to your chest, fingers pinching your nipples just enough to make you hiss.

Ningning looks up at you from under her lashes, a wicked smile on her lips as she moves lower, her mouth now hovering just above the visible bulge in your jeans.

Karina slides around to your side, impatient. "Let's see what you're working with," she breathes, hunger evident in her voice.

Karina's mouth finds yours again, swallowing your groans as she continues to grind against you. Ningning turns your head, breaking the kiss so she can claim your mouth instead. You feel Karina's lips trail down your neck, your chest, moving lower with clear intent.

Their hands work at your jeans in tandem, Ningning popping the button open while Karina drags the zipper down with agonizing slowness. Karina's mouth finds yours again, kissing you deeply as Ningning tugs your jeans down your thighs, taking your boxers with them. She pulls them completely off your legs, tossing them somewhere behind her, leaving you fully exposed as your cock springs free, harder than you can ever remember being, already leaking at the tip.

"Oh my god!," Karina breathes, breaking the kiss to look down, genuine surprise in her voice.

Ningning crawls back up, pushing Karina aside to get a better view. "Let me see," she demands, her eyes widening as she takes you in. "Goddamn."

"Fuck, no wonder Yujin kept quiet about this," Karina says, wrapping her hand around you, testing your girth with her fingers barely meeting around your shaft. "Selfish bitch kept this all to herself."

"I can't believe our first threesome is with a dick this good," Ningning murmurs, her eyes fixed on Karina's hand stroking you slowly. "Wish I'd known what you were hiding under those practice sweats."

Karina nods in agreement, her thumb collecting the bead of precum from your tip and smearing it down your length. "Goddamn, we picked the right guy to skip with today."

Their reactions send a surge of confidence through you. The power dynamic shifts—their impressed expressions giving you an unexpected edge in whatever game you've all decided to play.

Maybe I can handle these two after all.

Karina recovers first, her confidence returning as she slides back onto your lap, this time with just her underwear separating you from her heat. She takes your hands, guiding them deliberately to her body—one to her breast, the other to her hip—while leaning in to kiss you deeply. Her tongue slides against yours, claiming your mouth as she grinds down against your exposed cock, the thin fabric of her panties already soaked through.

"Touch me," she commands against your lips, and you don't need to be told twice. Your fingers knead her full breast, feeling the hardened nipple through the lace as your other hand grips her hip, guiding her movements against you. The wet patch of her panties drags against your length, the friction making you both groan.

"Fuck, your tits feel even better than they look," you murmur against her mouth, gaining confidence as you squeeze harder, making her gasp.

Ningning circles behind you, her knees bracketing yours on the bed. Her hands slide over your shoulders, down your chest, her lips finding your ear. "She thinks she's in charge," she whispers, her teeth grazing your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine, "but we both know better, don't we?" Her fingers pinch your nipples, the sharp pain making your cock twitch against Karina.

You're sandwiched between them—Karina's weight on your lap, her body rolling against yours in a perfect rhythm, the lace of her bra scraping against your chest as she moves, and Ningning pressed against your back, her breasts soft against your shoulder blades, her breath hot on your neck. Karina's mouth leaves yours to trail along your jaw, down your neck, sucking hard enough to mark you, while Ningning's hands roam lower, one sliding between you and Karina to wrap around your cock.

"Fuck," you hiss as her cold fingers encircle you, giving a slow, tight stroke that has your hips bucking involuntarily, pushing you deeper into her grip and harder against Karina's core.

Karina moans at the increased pressure, her head falling back, platinum hair cascading down her back as she rocks harder against you. The movement pushes your cock along her slit through the thin fabric, the head catching on her clit with each stroke.

"I knew you'd feel this good," Karina breathes, eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure as she watches your face, her lipstick smudged, her cheeks flushed. She takes your hand from her hip, guiding it between her legs, pressing your fingers against the soaked lace. "Feel what you're doing to me."

Your fingers press against her through the fabric, feeling the slick heat there. You can feel how swollen she is, how wet, even through the barrier. You rub your thumb in slow circles, watching her face contort with pleasure.

"Goddamn," you breathe, feeling her wetness seep through the lace onto your fingers. "You're fucking soaked."

"Can you blame me?" she says, grinding harder against your hand, her movements becoming less coordinated as pleasure builds. "Who knew you were hiding all this..." She gasps as your thumb presses harder, her eyes fluttering shut momentarily.

Ningning's hand continues to stroke you, her grip tightening just beneath the head on each upstroke, twisting slightly in a way that has your thighs tensing. Her teeth find the junction of your neck and shoulder, biting down hard enough to make you groan. "Don't forget about me," she whispers, her other hand reaching around to pull Karina's face toward her.

They kiss over your shoulder, messy and aggressive, all tongues and teeth, while their hands continue to work you both. You watch, entranced, as Karina moans into Ningning's mouth, her hips still moving against your hand, Ningning's fingers still wrapped tight around your cock.

The image of them kissing while touching you, while grinding against you, is almost enough to push you over the edge right there. You feel the familiar tightening, the building pressure. Ningning must sense it because she squeezes the base of your cock, staving off your orgasm.

"Not yet," she breathes against Karina's lips. "I want more than just my hand on him."

Karina pulls back from the kiss, lips swollen and wet. "Greedy bitch," she says, but there's no real heat behind it, just desire. She grinds against you one more time, the friction delicious but not enough, before lifting herself off your lap.

Before you can process what's happening, Karina drops to her knees between your legs, shoving them apart roughly. Her nails dig into your thighs as she positions herself, looking up at you through her lashes, a wicked smile playing on her lips.

"Hold on," she says, sitting back on her heels. She reaches behind her head, gathering her platinum hair in her hands. The movement lifts her chest, her arms raised, exposing the soft skin of her armpits and stretching the fabric of her bra against her breasts. She works quickly, twisting her hair into a messy bun at the top of her head.

The sight of her—arms raised, back arched slightly, body on display—makes your cock twitch with anticipation. She catches your reaction and smirks, knowing exactly what she's doing.

"Fuck, I need to taste it," she murmurs, her breath hot against your length. She runs her tongue from the base to the tip in one long, slow stroke, maintaining eye contact the entire time. When she reaches the head, she pulls back slightly, letting a string of saliva fall from her lips onto your cock. She works it in with her hand, coating you before wrapping her lips around the tip, sucking hard enough to hollow her cheeks.

Ningning watches intently from beside you, her hand absently stroking your thigh. As Karina works you deeper into her mouth, Ningning reaches behind her own back, unclasping her light blue bra. She slides the straps down her arms slowly, revealing her small, perfect breasts, the nipples already hard.

Your hand instinctively reaches for her, palm cupping the soft weight, thumb brushing over the hardened peak. She sighs at your touch, leaning into your hand as she watches Karina suck you.

The sight alone is almost enough to make you cum—Karina, the girl half the guys at school would kill to talk to, on her knees with your cock in her mouth, her platinum hair pulled up to give you a perfect view, while your hand explores Ningning's bare breast.

Karina takes you inch by inch, her tongue pressed flat against the underside, creating delicious pressure as she sucks. Her hand works what doesn't fit, twisting in tandem with her mouth's movements, spit already making her fingers glide smoothly along your shaft. You feel the vibration of her moan around you as she takes you deeper, the hot, wet pressure of her mouth making your toes curl.

She pulls back just enough to speak, her lips still brushing against your tip. "Fuck, you taste so good," she breathes, her eyes heavy-lidded with genuine pleasure. "Better than I thought you would."

She descends again, moaning around your length in a way that tells you she's enjoying this just as much as you are. The vibrations from her throat send shockwaves of pleasure through your cock.

"Jesus Christ," you breathe, your free hand instinctively going to Karina's hair, tangling in the loose strands that frame her face. She moans around you as you tug slightly, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure up your spine.

Just as you're settling into the sensation, she's yanked backward, Ningning's hand fisted in her hair, pulling hard enough to make Karina yelp.

"My turn," Ningning says, her voice sharper than before, edged with hunger. She moves between your legs, but first reaches behind Karina, unhooking her bra with practiced ease. "Take this off. I want to see you."

Karina complies, shrugging the black lace from her shoulders, her full breasts bouncing slightly as they're freed. Your mouth goes dry at the sight—both of them now topless, their dancer's bodies on full display.

Ningning sits back momentarily, mimicking Karina's earlier motion as she gathers her hair, arms raised above her head, body stretched long and lean. The position emphasizes the delicate curve of her waist, the subtle definition of her stomach. She secures her hair in a high ponytail, a few strands falling to frame her face.

"Much better," she says, settling between your legs. Rather than starting slow, she spits directly onto your cock, the warm saliva dripping down your length, trickling over your balls in a sensation that makes you shiver. She spreads it with both hands, stroking you a few times before wrapping her lips around you.

The first slide of her mouth around you is electric—different from Karina's technique, more aggressive from the start. She takes you deep immediately, your tip hitting the back of her throat, the muscles there contracting around you in a rippling sensation that makes your vision blur momentarily. You feel every millimeter of her throat closing around your head, squeezing in a way that's almost too intense.

She pulls back, gasping for air, but her eyes are bright with excitement. "Fuck, you're so big," she breathes, stroking you with her hand. "Feel so fucking good stretching my throat." She dives back down with enthusiasm, humming in satisfaction as she takes you deep again, the vibrations traveling through your entire length.

Karina moves to your side, pressing her now bare chest against your arm. Your hand immediately finds her breast, significantly fuller than Ningning's, the nipple stiff against your palm. You squeeze gently, drawing a soft moan from her as she watches Ningning take you deep.

The dual sensation is overwhelming—Ningning's hot mouth around your cock, taking you deeper than Karina had, her throat constricting rhythmically around your tip with each swallow, while your hands explore Karina's body, feeling the softness of her skin, the firmness of her breast in your palm.

This is not real life. This cannot be real life.

The sight of Ningning on her knees, lips stretched wide around your cock, eyes watering slightly as she takes you to the back of her throat, is almost too much. Her technique is different from Karina's—less teasing, more focused on depth and suction, her hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave marks. Each time she pulls back, you feel the cool air against your saliva-slick skin for just a moment before she descends again, taking you impossibly deep.

Karina presses closer, guiding your hand to her breast again while she watches Ningning work. Your fingers pinch her nipple lightly, drawing a soft gasp from her that turns into a smile. She leans in to kiss your neck, her teeth grazing your pulse point as Ningning continues to suck you, the wet sounds of her mouth filling the room.

"You're doing it wrong," Karina says after a minute, tugging Ningning's hair hard enough to make her release you with a wet pop, a thick string of saliva still connecting her lips to your glistening cock. She moves between your legs, gently pushing Ningning to the side.

Ningning doesn't move far. Instead, she shifts to your other side, pressing her small, firm breasts against your arm, guiding your hand to touch her as Karina had done. The contrast between them is striking—Karina's fuller, heavier breasts against Ningning's smaller, perkier ones, both equally perfect in different ways.

Your hands explore their bodies as they continue taking turns with your cock—feeling the taut muscles of their dancer's bodies, the softness of their breasts, the hardness of their nipples against your palms. Karina arches into your touch, more vocal in her enjoyment, while Ningning responds with subtle shifts of her body, pressing herself harder against your hand.

Karina pushes Ningning aside, but instead of taking you directly into her mouth, she gathers saliva and lets it fall in a long, obscene strand onto your cock. The warm wetness slides down your shaft, pooling at the base and dripping onto your balls, the sensation making your cock twitch visibly. She spreads it with both hands, one working the shaft while the other focuses on the head, applying more pressure on the upstroke. Her technique is more deliberate—twisting motions, varying pressure, her thumb occasionally swiping over the sensitive spot just beneath the head.

"Watch and learn," she tells Ningning before taking just the tip between her lips, sucking firmly while her hands continue their assault, working you with practiced precision. Each stroke is wetter than the last, her spit making obscene squelching sounds as she pumps you. You feel the suction of her mouth intensifying as she hollows her cheeks, the pressure building at the base of your spine.

She releases you with a gasp, her eyes glazed with arousal. "So fucking good," she moans, jerking you faster. "Love how you throb in my mouth." She's not performing anymore—the pleasure in her voice is raw and genuine as she takes you in again, moaning around your length like she's tasting something delicious.

Not to be outdone, Ningning moves closer. "Let me show you how it's really done," she says, nudging Karina to share. She gathers a mouthful of saliva and lets it drip directly onto your cock where Karina's hands are still working, the added wetness making the glide even smoother. The warm spit runs down to your balls, the tickling sensation making your thighs tense.

Then she ducks lower, her mouth finding your balls. She takes one gently between her lips, sucking lightly while Karina continues working the shaft, their combined efforts making your head spin. The contrast between Karina's firm strokes and Ningning's gentle suction creates a dual sensation that has you groaning, your hands tangling in the sheets.

Ningning hums against your sensitive skin, the vibration traveling up your shaft. "Mmm, I can feel you getting closer," she purrs, her breath hot against your balls. "Getting harder for us." She sucks again, moaning like she's savoring the taste and feel of you, her enthusiasm unmistakable.

Karina watches Ningning with growing arousal, her own breathing heavy. "He tastes so fucking good," she tells Ningning, almost reverently. "Like you wouldn't believe."

"Fuck," you groan, hips lifting involuntarily, the muscles in your stomach clenching. "This really your guys' first threesome? There's no fucking way you're both this perfect at this."

They exchange a look, something passing between them that you can't quite read. Then, without warning, they both move at once. Karina releases your cock from her grip, allowing Ningning to take you deep into her throat in one smooth motion, her nose pressing against your stomach as she swallows around you. The tight squeeze of her throat has you seeing stars, the rhythmic contractions milking your length as she holds herself there, her eyes watering from the effort. You hear a muffled moan vibrating around your cock as she takes you, a sound of pure pleasure that makes your hips buck involuntarily.

The sensation is indescribable—hot, wet pressure surrounding every inch of you, her throat muscles rippling involuntarily around your head, her tongue pressed flat against the underside of your shaft. You feel yourself hit the back of her throat and then push beyond, into the tighter passage that spasms around you.

When she pulls back for air, a thick strand of spit connects her lips to your cock. Before it can break, Karina leans forward, connecting her mouth to Ningning's through the spit strand, the two of them sharing a messy kiss with your cock between them. Their tongues visibly slide against each other, spit passing between their mouths before both turn their attention back to your cock.

"Holy shit," you breathe, unable to look away as they kiss, their tongues visibly sliding against each other, spit passing between their mouths before both turn their attention back to your cock.

Now they work in tandem, taking turns—Karina sucking the head while Ningning strokes the shaft with spit-slicked hands, then switching, Ningning taking you deep while Karina's hands massage your balls. The constant switching, the different pressures and sensations, the visual of them trading your cock between their mouths, is mind-bending.

Karina pulls off with a gasp, a line of spit connecting her bottom lip to your cock. Ningning immediately takes her place, but not before Karina spits directly onto your length, adding to the mess. Ningning works the extra wetness in with her hand before taking you deep again, her eyes watering as she pushes past her gag reflex.

The competition escalates further. Karina yanks Ningning off by her hair, replacing her mouth with her own. She takes you as deep as she can, gagging slightly but pushing through it, determined to outdo Ningning. When she comes up for air, Ningning is ready with another gob of spit, this time letting it fall into Karina's open mouth. Karina takes it, letting it mix with her own saliva before dripping it all onto your cock.

"Fuck," you groan, watching the exchange with wide eyes. The sight of Karina's mouth open, receiving Ningning's spit, then the combined wetness falling onto your cock, is filthier than anything you've ever seen.

They're getting progressively sloppier, wetter, messier with each passing minute. Ningning holds your cock at the base, pointing it toward Karina's waiting mouth, but before Karina can take you in, Ningning spits onto the head. Karina smiles, working the wetness in before adding her own spit, creating a growing puddle of saliva that drips down onto your balls.

The visual is obscene—both of their faces are wet with spit, their lipstick long gone, hair messed up from where you've grabbed it, eyes dark with desire as they work you between them. Your cock is coated in a sheen of their combined saliva, glistening in the fading light of Ningning's room.

The wetness is incredible—warm spit running down your shaft, pooling at the base, dripping onto your balls and beyond. Each stroke of their hands spreads it further, creating a slick, frictionless glide that has your toes curling. The sounds are just as filthy—wet suction, obscene slurping, the squelch of saliva between their fingers as they stroke you.

Then they change tactics. Instead of taking turns, they position themselves on either side of your cock. Karina takes the head into her mouth while Ningning works the shaft with her tongue, both of them moving in a synchronized rhythm that has your thighs tensing. You feel the different textures—Karina's soft lips sealed around your tip, the suction of her mouth pulling at you, while Ningning's tongue traces patterns along your shaft, occasionally dipping lower to tease your balls.

When they switch, it's seamless—Ningning taking the head while Karina's tongue traces patterns along the underside. Their eyes meet over your cock, some unspoken competition still driving them, but now they're working together to destroy you completely.

"He tastes so fucking good when he's about to cum," Karina whispers to Ningning, her voice raspy with desire. "Can you taste it?"

Ningning nods, her lips never leaving your skin. "Mmm, getting saltier," she agrees, moaning as she takes you into her mouth again. She pulls off with a wet pop. "Love how he twitches on my tongue."

Their obvious enjoyment, the way they're talking about you like you're some delicious treat they can't get enough of, pushes you even closer to the edge.

The most obscene moment comes when they both press their open mouths to either side of your shaft, essentially making out with each other with your cock between their lips. Their tongues slide against your skin and occasionally touch each other, sharing spit as they work you from base to tip. The sensation of both their tongues, both their mouths, both their breaths against your most sensitive skin has your head spinning.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you groan, your hands fisting in the sheets, hips lifting involuntarily. "I'm gonna—"

"Not yet," Karina says, pulling back, her hand squeezing the base of your cock hard enough to stave off your orgasm. Her lips are swollen, her chin and chest slick with spit and precum. "We're just getting started with you."

Ningning's eyes are dark with want as she looks up at you, her mouth and chin equally wet, a strand of saliva still connecting her bottom lip to the side of your cock. "We haven't even decided who goes first," she says, her voice raspy from taking you so deep.

Karina wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, her gaze predatory. "And I'm not done showing off what I can do with my mouth."

Is this actually my life right now? How the fuck did I end up here?

The tension between your need to cum and their determination to edge you builds to a breaking point. Just as you think you can't take anymore, Ningning makes a decisive move, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you backward onto the bed.

"My turn to feel good," she announces, climbing up your body with predatory grace. Her small, perfect breasts hang above you as she straddles your chest, knees pressing into the mattress on either side of your torso. "Scoot back," she commands, waiting for you to shift until your head is properly on the bed.

Without hesitation, she moves forward, positioning herself directly over your face. Through the thin fabric of her panties, you can see how wet she is, a dark patch spreading across the cotton. The scent of her arousal hits you—sweet and musky and intoxicating.

"Show me what you did to Yujin," she demands, lowering herself until her covered core is just inches from your mouth.

You reach up, hooking your fingers into the sides of her panties, pulling them to the side to expose her completely. The sight of her pussy makes your mouth water—she's got a neat landing strip of dark hair leading down to otherwise perfectly bare lips. The contrast of the carefully maintained strip against her pale skin speaks to her personality—controlled yet still wild underneath. Her folds are delicate, pink and glistening with arousal, already swollen and parted slightly, revealing the deeper pink within. She's absolutely soaked, her wetness visible from her entrance all the way up to her small, perfect clit that peeks out from beneath its hood.

"Fuck, you're pretty," you murmur before lifting your head to run your tongue through her slit in one long, firm stroke, tasting her fully for the first time.

"Shit," she gasps, her thighs trembling slightly as she grips the headboard for support.

You continue exploring her with your tongue, learning what makes her breath hitch and her thighs quiver. You trace around her entrance, gathering her wetness before moving up to circle her clit, alternating pressure and speed to keep her guessing.

Meanwhile, Karina hasn't forgotten about your cock. You feel her mouth envelop you again, picking up where they left off, but with a new urgency. She takes you impossibly deep, her throat constricting around your head as her hands massage your balls.

"Don't forget about me down here," she whines when she comes up for air, her hand replacing her mouth as she strokes you firmly. "Just because she's getting your tongue doesn't mean I'm done with your cock."

The dual sensation—Ningning's wetness on your tongue, Karina's mouth and hand working your length—creates a sensory overload that makes your head spin. You grip Ningning's thighs, pulling her more firmly against your face, your tongue diving deeper into her heat.

"Fuck, your tongue is fucking insane," Ningning moans, her hips beginning to roll against your mouth with more purpose. "The way you—shit—the way you flick it right there."

You focus your attention on her clit, alternating between fast flutters and firm circular motions, watching her reactions to learn exactly what drives her wild. Her thighs tense and tremble around your head, her breathing becoming more labored.

"Oh my god, oh my god," she chants, grinding herself shamelessly against your face now. "Your fucking tongue, holy shit—don't stop, please don't stop."

From below, you hear and feel Karina's response—the wet suction of her mouth intensifies, her pace increasing to match your efforts on Ningning. The competition continues, each trying to divert your attention and pleasure to themselves.

"He's already shaking," Karina observes after pulling off your cock with a wet pop, her hand continuing to stroke you firmly. "His cock gets harder every time you moan, Ning."

Ningning looks down between her legs at you, then back over her shoulder at Karina. Without breaking the rhythm of her hips against your mouth, she reaches back with one hand. Karina meets her halfway, their fingers intertwining in a brief moment of unity despite their ongoing competition.

"Fuck, I think I could die on his tongue," Ningning confesses, her voice thick with pleasure but not quite at the breaking point. "No wonder Yujin kept coming back."

You feel a surge of pride at her words, doubling your efforts, flattening your tongue to provide a broad surface for her to grind against while occasionally dipping into her entrance. Her taste is addictive—tangy and sweet with a hint of something uniquely her. Your chin and lips are completely coated in her arousal now, the obscene wetness making filthy sounds with each movement.

As amazing as it feels having Ningning on your face, you're acutely aware of Karina working diligently between your legs, her mouth and hands tag-teaming your cock with relentless precision. Each time you feel yourself getting close, she backs off just enough, squeezing the base or slowing her rhythm to keep you right on the edge.

"You taste so fucking good," you murmur against Ningning's pussy, the vibration of your words making her gasp. "Could eat you for hours."

"Please," she whimpers, her body trembling with the effort of restraining her orgasm. She's close—you can feel it in the way her thighs tense, see it in the flush spreading across her chest, hear it in the pitch of her moans.

But before she can tip over the edge, you pull back slightly, easing the pressure on her clit, focusing instead on long, slow strokes through her folds. Her frustrated groan makes you smile against her wet flesh.

"Evil," she hisses, recognizing what you're doing—giving her just enough to keep her on the edge but not enough to push her over.

Two can play at that game.

You feel a newfound confidence swelling within you. Making Ningning tremble above you while Karina worships your cock below has awakened something primal and commanding. You're done being the passive recipient of their attention.

You grip Ningning's hips firmly, lifting her off your face despite her whine of protest. "Move," you tell her, your voice rougher than usual. "I want to try something else."

Ningning slides off you reluctantly, her chest heaving, lips swollen from biting them to hold back her moans. Karina looks up from between your legs, her chin wet with spit, eyes questioning.

"Get on your hands and knees," you tell Karina, sitting up and pointing to the middle of the bed. "Facing Ningning."

Karina's eyebrows raise, a slight smirk playing on her lips, but she complies, crawling into position on all fours across the bed. Her platinum hair falls around her face as she looks up at Ningning, who's watching this shift in dynamic with undisguised interest, still breathing heavily from her near-orgasm.

You position yourself behind Karina, taking a moment to appreciate the view—the elegant curve of her spine, the swell of her ass, the way her hair cascades down her back. You run your hands over her skin, feeling the goosebumps that rise in the wake of your touch.

With deliberate slowness, you hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her thighs. The reveal is exquisite—unlike Ningning's landing strip, Karina is completely bare, her pussy smooth and flawlessly waxed. Her lips are fuller than Ningning's, her pink folds more pronounced, glistening with an abundance of arousal that's already begun dripping down her inner thighs. She's swollen with need, her entrance visibly pulsing as you watch.

"Fuck, look at you," you breathe, running a finger through her slick folds, collecting her wetness. She's so wet it makes an obscene sound, a lewd squelch that fills the room. "Soaked just from sucking my cock."

Karina looks back at you over her shoulder, eyes dark with want. "What are you waiting for?" she challenges, but the slight tremble in her voice betrays her desperation.

You grip your cock, still slick with their combined spit, and drag it through her folds, coating yourself in her wetness. The head catches on her clit, making her gasp and arch her back further.

"Please," she whispers, and the vulnerability in that single word hits you hard.

"Look at Ningning," you command, waiting until she turns her head forward.

Ningning has positioned herself cross-legged in front of Karina, close enough to touch, her eyes darting between Karina's face and your cock poised at her entrance.

This is it. This moment. After all the teasing, all the build-up, you're finally about to be inside one of them. The significance isn't lost on you—or them, judging by the anticipation crackling in the air.

You position yourself at her entrance, gripping her hips firmly with both hands, and then thrust forward in one smooth, relentless motion, burying yourself to the hilt inside her.

"Fucking hell!" Karina cries out, her arms nearly buckling from the sudden intrusion. She's impossibly tight around you, hot and wet and perfect. Her inner walls grip you like a vise, pulsing around your length in a way that nearly makes you cum on the spot.

"Goddamn," you hiss through clenched teeth, fighting for control. "So fucking tight."

You hold still for a moment, both to let her adjust and to regain your composure. The sensation is overwhelming—better than anything you could have imagined. Better than Yujin, better than anyone you've been with before.

Slowly, you pull back until just the tip remains inside, watching your length emerge coated in her arousal, before driving back in with deliberate force. She makes a choked sound, somewhere between a gasp and a moan, her fingers clutching desperately at the sheets.

"Eat her out," you command Karina, nodding toward Ningning. "Show her what that pretty mouth can do."

Ningning's eyes widen at your directive, but she doesn't hesitate. She scoots closer, positioning herself so her pussy is directly in front of Karina's face. Karina leans forward eagerly despite the distraction of your cock still pumping into her, her tongue darting out to taste Ningning.

You establish a rhythm, your hips meeting Karina's ass with increasingly forceful thrusts. The wet sounds of your bodies meeting fill the room, mixing with Karina's muffled moans against Ningning's pussy and Ningning's sharper gasps.

"That's it," you encourage, your hand sliding up Karina's spine before tangling in her platinum hair, pulling just enough to arch her back further. "Make her feel good while I fuck you."

The visual is pornographic—Karina on all fours, her face buried between Ningning's thighs, her ass raised high as you pound into her from behind. Your cock glistens with her arousal each time you pull back, her wetness making the glide effortless despite how tightly she grips you.

"Fuck, she's good with her tongue too," Ningning moans, her hand coming down to grip Karina's hair, holding her firmly in place. "Not as good as you, but still—ah!—still fucking amazing."

The praise spurs Karina on, making her work harder to prove herself. You can feel her determination in the way she pushes back against your thrusts, meeting you halfway, taking you impossibly deeper.

You bring your hand down on her ass in a sharp slap, watching the flesh jiggle and redden under your palm. Karina jerks forward with a muffled cry, her inner walls clenching around your cock in response.

"You like that?" you ask, doing it again, harder this time.

Her answering moan, vibrating against Ningning's core, is all the confirmation you need. You develop a rhythm—thrust, slap, thrust, slap—each impact making her tighten around you, each moan making Ningning gasp.

"Fuck, don't stop," Ningning pants, her hips rolling against Karina's face with increasing urgency. "She gets better every time you spank her—fuck!—it's like she's trying to earn it."

You can tell they're both getting close, teetering on the edge of release. Karina's pussy is gripping you with almost painful intensity, fluttering with each thrust in a way that signals her approaching orgasm. Ningning's thighs are trembling, her chest flushed, her breathing ragged as she grinds against Karina's eager mouth.

But you're not ready for this to end. Not yet.

You pull out of Karina suddenly, making her whine against Ningning's pussy. At the same time, you reach forward to pull her away from Ningning, denying them both their release.

"Not yet," you tell them, your voice rough with desire but commanding in a way that surprises even you. "I'm not done with either of you."

They both look at you with identical expressions of frustration and arousal—lips swollen, eyes glazed, cheeks flushed. Karina's mouth and chin glisten with Ningning's arousal, while Ningning's thighs are visibly trembling from how close she was.

"Don't forget about me," Ningning says, her eyes fixed on your cock, still hard and slick with Karina's juices. "I want to feel that too."

"You had his mouth," Karina argues, turning to glare at her friend despite her breathlessness. "My turn to have something."

"Your pussy isn't the only one that needs attention," Ningning shoots back, crawling closer to you. "He obviously likes how I taste better anyway."

"Bullshit," Karina scoffs, reaching for your cock possessively. "He was practically shaking inside me. Weren't you?" She looks up at you, seeking confirmation.

The competition between them reignites, both vying for your attention, both desperate to be the one who makes you lose control first. But you've found your footing in this dynamic now, no longer overwhelmed by their beauty or intimidated by their confidence.

You know exactly what you want to do next.

After pounding into Karina with increasingly forceful thrusts, your control begins to waver. The wet heat of her pussy, the sight of her platinum hair bouncing with each impact, the obscene sounds of your bodies meeting—it's all becoming too much.

"Fuck," you growl, suddenly pulling out completely with a lewd, wet sound. Your cock springs free, glistening with her arousal, bobbing heavily in the air between you. Karina whimpers at the loss, looking back at you over her shoulder with confusion and frustration in her eyes.

You take a deep breath, fighting for composure, and shift backward until you're settled against the headboard. Your cock stands at full attention, slick with Karina's arousal, veins prominent against the flushed skin, pulsing visibly with each heartbeat.

"Get over here," you command, voice rough with barely restrained desire. "Both of you."

The frustration on both their faces at being denied release only heightens your newfound confidence. Their flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and desperate eyes tell you everything you need to know—they're as close to the edge as you are.

"Ningning," you command, your voice leaving no room for argument. "Come ride me. Karina, you're on ball duty."

Their eyes widen at your sudden assertiveness, but neither hesitates. Ningning practically scrambles toward you, her small breasts bouncing with the movement, eyes dark with hunger. She straddles your thighs, positioning herself above your cock, while Karina crawls between your spread legs, her platinum hair falling around her face as she looks up at you with a mixture of surprise and arousal.

Holy shit, who am I right now? When did I start giving orders to the two baddest girls at school?

You take a moment to truly look at Ningning hovering above you—her skin glistens with a fine sheen of sweat, making her body gleam in the scattered light. Droplets trail down between her breasts and along the defined lines of her dancer's abdomen. Her dark hair, once perfectly styled, now falls in messy strands around her face where it's escaped her ponytail. The contrast of her disheveled appearance against her usually perfect composure makes your cock throb with anticipation.

You reach up to trace the elegant curve of her collarbone, your finger dipping into the hollow at the base of her throat where sweat has pooled. Impulsively, you lean forward to lick the salt from her skin, dragging your tongue along the defined ridge before sucking hard enough to leave a mark. She gasps at the sensation, her hands gripping your shoulders for balance.

"You taste fucking incredible," you murmur against her skin, your lips moving down to capture a bead of sweat trickling between her breasts. "Even your sweat is sweet."

Her head falls back, exposing the long, elegant line of her throat as you continue to explore her body with your mouth. Your hands roam freely, cupping her small, firm breasts, feeling the weight of them in your palms, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. They're incredibly responsive, stiffening further at your touch, drawing a whimper from her lips.

"Please," she whispers, her voice so different from her usual confident tone. "Need to feel you inside me now."

Ningning hovers above you, her entrance just brushing against your tip, teasing you both. You've had enough teasing. Your hands grip her narrow waist, fingertips digging into her soft skin as you pull her down onto your length in one forceful motion.

"Oh fuck!" she cries out, her body going rigid as you fill her completely. She's even tighter than Karina, her walls gripping you like a vise, her heat enveloping you in a way that makes your vision blur momentarily.

Her pussy feels different from Karina's—tighter, with more texture, gripping you in rhythmic pulses that suggest years of dance have strengthened muscles you're now benefiting from. Every tiny movement sends lightning through your nerve endings.

This cannot be real life. There's no way I'm inside Ningning right now with Karina watching. No fucking way.

You feel Karina's presence below, her breath hot against your thighs as she watches Ningning take you. The anticipation of her mouth on you while you're buried inside Ningning makes your cock swell even harder.

"Move," you growl, your hands still gripping Ningning's waist, guiding her into a rhythm. She begins to ride you, her hips rolling with a natural fluidity that showcases her dancer's body. Unlike Karina's more controlled movements, Ningning rides you with complete abandon, her head thrown back, small breasts bouncing with each drop of her hips.

Your hands slide from her waist to her ass, squeezing the firm globes, feeling the muscles flex and contract as she moves. Her skin is impossibly soft despite the toned muscle beneath. You spread her wider, your fingers digging into the supple flesh, controlling her movements even as she sets the pace.

Sweat drips down her temple, following the curve of her jaw before trailing down her neck. You lean forward to catch it with your tongue, tasting the salt of her exertion, the evidence of how hard she's working on your cock. Her hair has come further undone, dark strands sticking to her damp neck and shoulders, the ponytail now hanging by a thread.

"Fucking hell, you're deep," she gasps, her internal muscles clenching around you as she adjusts to your size. "Shit, shit, shit."

You feel Karina's mouth on your balls, her tongue lavishing attention on the sensitive skin while Ningning continues to ride you. Her lips are impossibly soft, contrasting with the occasional graze of teeth that makes your hips buck involuntarily. She sucks one into her mouth, the wet heat surrounding you from below as Ningning envelops you from above.

The dual sensation—Ningning's tight heat surrounding your cock, Karina's wet mouth on your balls—creates a pleasure so intense you have to grit your teeth to maintain control. Your hands tighten on Ningning's ass, fingers dipping between the cheeks, exploring every inch of her.

"Look at you," Karina murmurs against your skin, her breath hot and teasing. "Already about to bust for her. Your balls are so tight."

She's not wrong—your entire body is wound like a spring, tension building with each drop of Ningning's hips, each swipe of Karina's tongue. You can feel the pressure building at the base of your spine, your thighs tensing with the effort of holding back.

Her observation spurs you to reassert control. You tangle one hand in Ningning's hair, finding the loose ponytail and wrapping it around your fist before yanking her head back sharply, exposing the elegant line of her throat. The remaining hair tie snaps, releasing a cascade of dark waves that fall around her shoulders. She gasps, her pussy clenching around you in response, her rhythm faltering momentarily.

"Fuck, I love when you pull my hair," she moans, her pace increasing, taking you deeper with each drop of her hips. Her nails dig into your chest, leaving crescent-shaped marks that sting deliciously, adding tiny crescents of pain to the overwhelming pleasure.

You pull her down to crush your mouth against hers, swallowing her moans as you thrust up to meet her movements. Her lips are swollen from earlier kisses, softer now, yielding to your assault. You taste yourself on her tongue, mixed with her own unique flavor and the lingering sweetness of the Slurpee from earlier. The combination is intoxicating.

Your free hand slides up her sweat-slicked back, feeling each vertebra, each ripple of muscle beneath her skin. You trace the definition of her shoulder blades, the delicate curve of her spine, the subtle dimples at her lower back. Her body is a masterpiece of lean muscle and subtle curves, honed by years of dance but still undeniably feminine.

Karina's not content to be forgotten. She moves from your balls to nip at Ningning's thighs, leaving small red marks that make Ningning jerk and gasp above you. Her teeth graze the sensitive skin where thigh meets ass, leaving a trail of light bruises that will remind Ningning of this moment for days to come.

Then she presses her tongue flat against the place where your bodies join, tasting both of you with each of Ningning's movements. The added stimulation makes Ningning shudder, her inner walls fluttering around you. Karina's tongue slides up to tease Ningning's asshole, circling the tight ring of muscle before dipping back down to where you're connected.

"Oh god," Ningning whimpers, the added stimulation nearly pushing her over the edge. Her movements become erratic, desperate, her inner walls fluttering around your length in warning.

You can feel how close she is—her thighs trembling against yours, her breathing shallow and rapid, her pussy contracting in those telltale rhythmic pulses that signal impending orgasm. Her eyes are unfocused, lips parted, a flush spreading from her cheeks down her neck to her chest.

Not yet. I'm finally in control here, and I'm not letting it end this fast.

You're not ready to let her finish yet. With a sudden burst of strength, you lift her off you entirely, eliciting a cry of protest that cuts off when you manhandle her to the side, practically throwing her onto the mattress beside you.

Her body bounces slightly with the impact, her hair splaying across the sheets like dark ink, chest heaving with exertion and denied release. Her skin is flushed pink, nipples tight peaks begging for attention, thighs still spread with the memory of having you between them. A thin sheen of sweat makes her entire body glisten, highlighting every curve, every muscle, every dip and hollow of her dancer's physique.

"My turn with Karina," you state, your voice rough with arousal but commanding enough that neither questions you.

Karina's eyes darken with desire as she moves to take Ningning's place, but you stop her with a hand on her shoulder. Her skin is hot to the touch, slightly damp with exertion, surprisingly soft despite the toned muscle beneath. You can feel her pulse racing beneath your palm.

"Get your ass up here," you direct, indicating your face. "Wanna taste you while you ride me."

Her breath catches, pupils dilating until her eyes are nearly black, a fresh wave of arousal evident in the way she presses her thighs together momentarily. She complies immediately, positioning herself over your face, facing your feet, while reaching back to guide your cock into her waiting heat.

The position allows you full access to her pussy with your mouth while she controls the depth and pace of penetration. The view is spectacular—her round ass hovering above your face, her slick, swollen pussy lips parted and ready, the perfect curve of her spine leading up to her platinum hair cascading down her back.

As she sinks down onto your length, you grip her hips, pulling her core against your mouth simultaneously, your tongue finding her clit with unerring precision. The taste of her explodes across your tongue—tangy, sweet, with an underlying muskiness that's uniquely hers, different from Ningning's flavor but equally intoxicating.

She cries out, her body jerking at the dual penetration, her inner walls clenching around you. You feel her thighs trembling on either side of your head, her weight shifting as she struggles to maintain balance in the face of such intense stimulation.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," she chants, beginning to move on your cock while grinding against your mouth.

Where Ningning rode you with wild abandon, Karina's movements are calculated, controlled—each roll of her hips designed for maximum pleasure, each contraction of her inner muscles deliberate and devastating. She knows exactly how to angle herself to take you deepest, how to twist to hit her most sensitive spots, how to clench around you to create the perfect pressure.

Your hands roam her body, one gripping her hip to guide her movements, the other sliding up her sweat-slicked torso to find her breast. It fills your palm perfectly, heavier than Ningning's, the nipple stiff against your skin. You pinch it between your fingers, rolling it, tugging slightly, feeling her inner walls contract around your cock in response.

Your tongue works her clit relentlessly, circling the swollen bud before flattening against it, applying perfect pressure as she grinds down. Her taste becomes more intense as her arousal builds, her wetness coating your chin, dripping down your neck. You trace her entrance with your tongue, feeling where your cock stretches her, the tight ring of muscle yielding to your thickness.

That's the difference between them—Ningning all passion, Karina all precision. Both fucking incredible in completely different ways.

Ningning watches for a moment, her chest heaving, before moving to participate again. She positions herself beside your head, leaning down to whisper in your ear, her voice husky with arousal. Her breath is hot against your skin, her lips brushing your earlobe with each word, sending shivers down your spine.

"She thinks she can take you better than me," she murmurs, her hand trailing down to massage your balls as Karina continues to ride you. Her fingers are cool against your heated skin, gentle yet firm as they cup and roll, occasionally dipping lower to feel where you stretch Karina open. "But I had you deeper. I felt you throbbing inside me."

Karina hears her and responds with a particularly skillful twist of her hips that makes you groan against her flesh. The movement changes the angle, taking you impossibly deeper, her inner walls rippling along your length in a way that makes your toes curl.

"He's rock hard inside me," she shoots back, looking over her shoulder at Ningning with a triumphant smirk. Her platinum hair sticks to her sweat-dampened back in places, strands darkened by moisture. "Like, literally throbbing."

Their competitive banter continues as they trade positions again, this time with Ningning straddling you in reverse, her back to your chest. The view is spectacular—the elegant line of her spine, the subtle dimples at the small of her back, the perfect curve of her ass as she positions herself over your cock once more.

She sinks down slowly this time, savoring each inch as you fill her, her head falling back against your shoulder with a gasp when you're fully seated. Her hair, now completely free from its ponytail, spills all around you, tickling your chest, your neck, your face—dark, silky strands that smell faintly of coconut shampoo and her own unique scent.

Karina kneels beside you, her mouth finding your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before soothing it with her tongue. The contrast of her platinum hair against your skin is stark, beautiful, the strands sticking to your sweat-dampened chest as she moves.

You grip Ningning's hips, guiding her movements as she rides you with increasing urgency, her head falling back against your shoulder. Your hands slide up her torso, feeling the taut muscles of her stomach contract with each movement, the delicate ribs beneath her soft skin, before finding her small, perfect breasts.

They fit perfectly in your palms, the perfect handful, nipples stiff against your fingers. You pinch them lightly, rolling them between your fingers, feeling her pussy clench around you in response. Your mouth finds the side of her neck, tasting the salt of her skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark that will be visible for days.

"Fuck, the way you fill me," she gasps, her hand reaching back to tangle in your hair, pulling you into a messy kiss over her shoulder. The angle is awkward but intensely erotic, her tongue sliding against yours as she continues to move on your cock.

Her body is a furnace against yours, heat radiating from every inch of her skin, her sweat mingling with yours where your chests press together. You can feel her heartbeat, rapid and strong, her pulse fluttering beneath your lips when you break the kiss to suck at the sensitive spot beneath her ear.

Karina's hand slips between Ningning's legs, her fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles that make Ningning's rhythm stutter. "Let me help you," she offers, her voice innocent but her eyes calculating as she watches Ningning respond to her touch.

It's not cooperation so much as an extension of their competition—each trying to prove they can give and receive pleasure better than the other. Still, the effect is the same: Ningning moaning loudly as Karina's fingers work her clit, her pussy clenching rhythmically around your length.

They might be competing, but holy shit does it work in my favor.

You break the kiss to watch them, fascinated by the shifting dynamic. Karina leans forward to capture Ningning's mouth in a passionate kiss, swallowing her increasingly desperate moans while continuing to work her clit. Their tongues visibly slide against each other, the kiss open-mouthed and filthy, a performance as much for your benefit as for their own pleasure.

Your hands slide to Ningning's ass, spreading her cheeks, feeling where your cock disappears into her tight heat. The visual of them kissing while Ningning rides you, Karina's fingers visible between her legs, is almost enough to push you over the edge.

Sweat drips down your temple, your chest, your back—every inch of you is damp with exertion, muscles burning with the effort of maintaining control. The room smells of sex now, the sweet musk of their arousal mixed with sweat and the faint coconut of Ningning's shampoo creating an intoxicating blend that fills your lungs with each ragged breath.

"Switch," you command, your voice strained with the effort of holding back your orgasm. "Karina on my cock, Ningning on my face."

They separate reluctantly, exchanging a look that speaks volumes before repositioning themselves according to your instructions. The brief moment it takes them to adjust gives you a chance to regain some control, your breathing ragged, your cock throbbing painfully with need.

Karina sinks down onto you with a satisfied sigh, her pussy still incredibly tight despite how wet she is. Ningning straddles your face, her thighs bracketing your head, her scent intoxicating as you pull her down onto your waiting tongue.

What happens next is the most seamless teamwork you've seen from them so far. Karina leans forward to kiss Ningning deeply, their breasts pressing together as they move in synchronized rhythm—Karina riding your cock with deliberate precision, Ningning grinding against your tongue with increasing desperation.

Their hands explore each other's bodies, pinching nipples, tangling in hair, tracing curves with obvious familiarity. It's clear this isn't the first time they've touched each other this way, but the addition of you between them brings a new intensity to their interactions.

They work together now, their earlier competition forgotten in favor of a united goal: pushing you past the point of control. Karina's inner muscles contract around you in waves, milking your length with expert precision. Ningning grinds against your tongue with shameless abandon, her wetness coating your chin, her thighs trembling on either side of your head.

"Fuck, he's gonna cum," Karina observes, feeling your cock swell and pulse inside her. "I can feel it."

The sensation is overwhelming—Karina's pussy gripping your cock like a vise, her inner walls rippling along your length with practiced control, while Ningning floods your mouth with her arousal, her taste growing stronger as she gets closer to her own release. You feel the familiar tightening at the base of your spine, the tension building in your balls, the telltale throb of impending orgasm.

Ningning looks down at you between her legs, her eyes dark with desire. "Not yet," she says, both to you and Karina. "We're not done with him."

They exchange another look, some silent communication passing between them, before they both lift off you simultaneously. The sudden loss of stimulation makes you groan in frustration, your cock twitching in the cool air, your mouth still chasing Ningning's retreating heat.

"What the fuck," you hiss, your voice rough with need.

Are they seriously edging me right now? After I was finally about to—

They smile at your frustration, identical expressions of satisfied mischief on their flushed faces. The power dynamic shifts again as they move to position themselves on either side of you, their hands trailing teasingly across your sweat-slicked skin.

Your body is hypersensitive now, every touch amplified tenfold. Karina's fingers along your ribs feel like fire, Ningning's breath against your neck like a physical caress. Your cock stands proudly between you, harder than it's ever been, the head swollen and purple, veins prominent against the shaft, a bead of precum glistening at the tip.

"We told you," Karina purrs, her fingers wrapping loosely around your aching cock, not providing nearly enough pressure. The touch is maddening—just enough to keep you on edge, not enough to provide relief. Her platinum hair falls across your chest as she leans over you, a few strands sticking to your sweat-dampened skin. "We're not done yet."

"You'll cum when we say," Ningning adds, her tongue darting out to flick across your nipple, sending a jolt of electricity down your spine. Her dark eyes hold yours as she does it again, teeth grazing the sensitive peak before soothing it with her tongue. The contrast of sharp pain and soft pleasure makes your cock jerk in Karina's loose grip.

Your earlier dominance wavers in the face of their united assault, but you're not ready to surrender control completely. With a growl, you reach out, one hand tangling in Karina's platinum hair, the other gripping Ningning's hip hard enough to leave marks.

You feel the damp heat of Karina's scalp as you fist her hair, the moisture from her exertion making the strands cling to your fingers. On Ningning's hip, your fingers dig into the subtle curve, feeling the contrast of soft skin over firm muscle. Your grip is possessive, commanding, a clear statement that this power struggle isn't over yet.

"No," you state firmly, pulling Karina's face close to yours. Her platinum hair falls around you both like a curtain, individual strands clinging to the sweat on your face and neck. You can smell her shampoo—something expensive and floral—mixed with the musk of sex and the salt of her sweat. "I decide when this ends."

The authority in your voice makes both of them freeze, their eyes widening in surprise before darkening with renewed arousal. Karina's pupils dilate so completely her eyes look almost black, while Ningning's lips part on a shaky exhale.

"Yes, sir," Karina whispers, the unexpected honorific sending a shock of pleasure through your system. The word falls from her swollen lips with surprising naturalness, as if she's been waiting for the opportunity to say it.

Sir? Oh fuck, that's hot coming from her mouth.

Ningning nods her agreement, suddenly docile under your grip. "Whatever you want," she adds, her voice softer than you've heard it all day. The contrast between her usual sharp-tongued confidence and this new, yielding tone makes your cock throb painfully between you.

The surrender in their responses ignites something primal within you. You pull Karina into a bruising kiss, your teeth catching her lower lip hard enough to make her whimper. Her mouth opens immediately under yours, tongue sliding against yours in eager submission. Her platinum hair tangles around your fingers as you hold her in place, controlling the angle, the pressure, the depth of the kiss.

When you release her, her lips are even more swollen than before, a tiny drop of blood where your teeth caught her too hard. The sight of it—evidence of your intensity—makes something dark and satisfied unfurl in your chest.

You turn to Ningning, claiming her mouth with equal ferocity, your tongue pushing past her lips in a clear mimicry of what your cock has been doing to both of them. She yields immediately, moaning into the kiss, her small hand coming up to grip your bicep, feeling the muscle flex under her fingers.

The taste of them mingles on your tongue—Karina's cherry-sweetness, Ningning's slightly spicier flavor, both layered with the salt of sweat and the unique taste of their arousal from when they rode your face. The combination is intoxicating, driving you to deepen the kiss, to take more, to claim her completely.

You break the kiss, looking at them both with undisguised hunger. Their faces are flushed, lips swollen, eyes glazed with desire. Sweat makes their skin gleam in the fading afternoon light, highlighting the contours of their bodies—the swell of Karina's breasts, the elegant line of Ningning's collarbones, the defined muscles in both their stomachs from years of dance.

"Get on your backs," you command. "Side by side. Now."

They scramble to comply, positioning themselves as instructed, their earlier bratty competition replaced by eager compliance. They lie beside each other, legs spread, bodies on display for your approval. The contrast between them is striking—Karina's fuller curves and platinum hair against Ningning's more delicate frame and dark waves.

Both are covered in a fine sheen of sweat, their skin flushed pink with exertion and arousal. Ningning's small breasts rise and fall with her rapid breathing, the subtle definition in her stomach more visible now as she lies flat. Karina's fuller curves create shadows and valleys across her body, her platinum hair spread out across the pillow like spilled moonlight.

You move to kneel between them, looking down at the feast before you—Karina with her full breasts and perfectly waxed pussy, Ningning with her smaller, perkier breasts and neatly trimmed landing strip. Both of them flushed, breathing heavily, watching you with identical expressions of desperate need.

Your own body bears the marks of your encounter—small crescent-shaped indents from their nails, light bruises forming where their mouths have been too eager, sweat dripping down your chest and back. Your cock stands painfully erect between you, harder than you've ever been, throbbing with each heartbeat.

"Now," you say, your voice calm despite the fire raging through your veins, "let's see which one of you can take me better."

They exchange a glance—half challenge, half solidarity—before turning their attention back to you, waiting for whatever comes next.

I've got the two baddest dancers at school spread out for me. Bio test be damned—this is worth getting benched for.

And what comes next will test all three of you to your limits.

You move between them, your body radiating heat, muscles tense with anticipation. Your hand trails up Ningning's inner thigh, feeling her tremble beneath your touch, while you lean down to capture Karina's mouth in a hungry kiss.

"I want it first," Ningning demands, her voice a mixture of need and command. Her slender fingers wrap around your wrist, trying to guide your hand higher between her legs. The desperation in her tone sends a fresh surge of arousal through you.

Karina breaks the kiss, her breath coming in short pants against your lips. "Make him choose," she challenges, her eyes locked on Ningning's, then flicking back to yours. "Let's see who he really wants."

Jesus, even now they're competing. And I'm supposed to pick?

You pull back slightly, looking between them—both flushed, panting, their bodies on display just for you. An idea forms, something that will satisfy them both while maintaining your newfound control.

"I choose both," you state, your voice leaving no room for argument. "But I'm calling the shots."

Without warning, you move over Ningning, positioning yourself at her entrance. She's so wet you can see it glistening on her inner thighs, pooling slightly beneath her on the sheets. The head of your cock slides through her folds, gathering her arousal, the contact drawing a whimper from both of you.

When you finally push inside, the wet sound is obscene – a lewd squelch that echoes in the room, matching Ningning's sharp gasp as you stretch her open.

"Fuck, you're splitting me in half," she cries out, her back arching off the bed, small breasts pointing upward as you fill her completely. Her inner walls clamp down around you like a silken vise, rippling with involuntary spasms that nearly end you on the spot.

The sensation of her tight heat surrounding you again nearly makes your vision go white, but you hold on to your control by a thread, fingernails digging into your own palms as you fight the urge to come immediately.

You don't give her time to adjust, setting a brutal pace immediately, each thrust punctuated by the wet sound of her arousal and the sharp slap of your hips against the backs of her thighs. Her legs wrap around your waist instinctively, heels digging into your lower back, urging you deeper.

"God, don't stop," she gasps, each word punched out of her with your thrusts. Her hair splays across the pillow in dark waves, sticking to her sweat-slicked temples and cheeks. There's something almost painful in her expression as she takes you, a mixture of pleasure so intense it borders on agony.

You shift your angle, driving deeper, searching for that spot inside her that will make her fall apart. When your cock brushes against it, her reaction is immediate – her entire body seizes, back arching further, a broken sound torn from her throat.

"There! Right there!" she sobs, eyes wide and glassy, unfocused with pleasure. "Oh god, I'm gonna—"

But you haven't forgotten Karina. Your hand finds her core, two fingers sliding easily into her wet heat, thumb circling her clit with deliberate pressure. She gasps at the contact, hips bucking up to meet your hand.

"I need more than fingers," she demands, voice cracking with need as she watches you pound into Ningning. "She's hogging you."

You lean down, capturing one of Ningning's nipples between your teeth as you continue thrusting, the dual sensation making her cry out louder. The taste of her sweat-slicked skin is addictive – salt and something uniquely her that makes you want to lick every inch of her body.

Your fingers pick up speed inside Karina, curved perfectly to hit her g-spot while your thumb continues its assault on her clit. Her hips rise to meet each thrust of your hand, grinding against your palm, seeking more friction.

"I can feel how wet you are," you tell Karina, voice rough with exertion as you continue pounding into Ningning. "Soaked through. All for me."

Sweat pours down your back, drips from your forehead onto Ningning's chest, mingling with the perspiration already coating her skin. It slides between her small breasts, pooling in the hollow of her throat. Impulsively, you lean down to lick it away, tasting the salt on your tongue, feeling her pulse hammering beneath your lips.

The room fills with the sounds of your collective panting, moaning, the wet slap of flesh, the squelch of your fingers in Karina's pussy, the creak of the bed frame protesting your vigorous movements. The air is thick with the scent of sex – musky, primal, intoxicating.

Ningning's nails rake down your back, leaving burning trails that sting deliciously. Her inner walls flutter around you, signaling her approaching orgasm. Her eyes, which have been locked on yours, suddenly squeeze shut, brows drawing together in intense concentration.

"I can't—it's too—" she gasps, words failing her as pleasure overtakes her ability to form coherent thoughts.

You pull out suddenly, leaving her empty and gasping, hovering right at the edge of release. Before she can protest, you shift to Karina, removing your fingers from inside her only to replace them with your cock in one swift movement.

"Finally," Karina gasps, body arching up to meet your thrust. Her pussy welcomes you with a gush of wetness, the lewd sound filling the room as you bottom out inside her. She's different from Ningning—slightly less tight but wetter, hotter, inner walls undulating around your length in deliberate pulses that suggest years of practice.

Her legs immediately wrap around your waist, ankles crossing at the small of your back, pulling you deeper. The change in sensation is mind-bending – from Ningning's tight grip to Karina's silky heat, both equally devastating to your self-control.

Now it's Ningning's turn to receive your fingers, sliding easily into her abandoned pussy, still stretched from your cock and dripping with arousal. You find her g-spot with unerring accuracy, applying firm pressure that has her keening, back arching off the bed.

"No fair," she whimpers, eyes glassy with frustrated tears. "I was so close."

"You'll get your turn again," you promise, voice barely recognizable through your labored breathing. "Want to make it last."

You lean down to kiss Karina as you thrust into her, swallowing her moans. Her mouth is voracious against yours, tongue tangling with yours, teeth nipping at your lower lip. One of her hands tangles in your hair, pulling hard enough to send sparks of pain-pleasure down your spine.

"Feel how fucking wet I am for you?" she pants against your lips, inner muscles clenching deliberately around your length. "Been thinking about this since I first saw you in homeroom."

The confession, unexpected and raw, sends a fresh surge of arousal through you. Your hips stutter in their rhythm before driving deeper, harder, drawing a choked cry from her throat.

Beside you, Ningning grows impatient with just your fingers. She rises to her knees, moving closer until she can press her body against your side. Her small breasts brush against your arm, nipples hard points of contact that make your skin tingle.

"Let me help," she murmurs, surprising you as her hand slides down to where you're joined with Karina. Her slender fingers find Karina's clit, circling it with a practiced touch that suggests this isn't the first time she's touched her friend this way.

Karina's reaction is immediate – a sharp gasp, inner walls clenching around you, back arching to press her breasts up toward you. Her platinum hair fans out across the pillow, damp strands sticking to her flushed face and neck.

"Fuck, Ning," she breathes, using a nickname you've never heard before. "Just like that."

The sight of Ningning's darker fingers against Karina's pale flesh, the contrast of their skin tones as they work together to maximize pleasure, is possibly the hottest thing you've ever seen. Your cock throbs inside Karina at the visual, drawing a knowing smile from both girls.

"You like watching us together, don't you?" Karina purrs, voice thick with satisfaction. "Been playing with each other since sophomore year. Wondering when we'd find someone worth sharing."

The casual revelation sends your mind reeling, imagination filling with images of them together – Karina's head between Ningning's thighs, Ningning's fingers buried inside Karina, their bodies entwined in countless configurations.

Holy shit, this is actually happening.

You increase your pace, pounding into Karina with renewed vigor while maintaining the curl of your fingers inside Ningning. The awkward angle strains your wrist but the dual sensation of both their bodies clenching around different parts of you is worth any discomfort.

Suddenly, you withdraw from Karina, her disappointed whine cutting off as you move down her body. Your tongue finds her clit, sucking the swollen bud between your lips while three fingers thrust into her soaked entrance. She tastes incredible – tangy, sweet, with an underlying musk that's uniquely hers.

"Oh my GOD," she cries out, thighs immediately clamping around your head, one hand fisting in your hair to hold you in place. "Right there, don't you dare fucking stop!"

Your free hand continues working inside Ningning, her wetness covering your fingers, dripping down your wrist. The position is challenging but the sound of both girls moaning, their bodies writhing on either side of you, spurs you to push through the discomfort.

"His tongue," Karina gasps to Ningning, eyes wild, pupils blown wide. "You have no idea."

Instead of responding with words, Ningning leans down to capture one of Karina's nipples in her mouth, teeth grazing the sensitive peak. The unexpected cooperation between them – Ningning pleasuring Karina while you work between her legs – creates a tableau of feminine beauty that's almost artful in its eroticism.

You alternate between them, mouth moving from Karina to Ningning, fingers filling whoever doesn't have your tongue, never letting either girl get too close to the edge before switching again. Their frustration builds with each denial, whimpers turning to pleas, then to demands.

"Please," Ningning begs, voice cracking, a tear escaping the corner of her eye to disappear into her hairline. "I need to come so bad it hurts."

"Let her finish," Karina surprises you by saying, her own voice shaky with need. "Want to watch her fall apart on your cock."

The request – so unlike her earlier competitive attitude – makes your decision for you. You move up Ningning's body, positioning yourself at her entrance once more. She's so wet now that you slide in effortlessly, her body accepting you with a soft squelch that should be embarrassing but is just incredibly hot.

"Yes," she hisses, hands immediately finding purchase on your shoulders, nails digging in. "Fuck me like you mean it."

You comply, setting a relentless pace that has the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust. Her small body takes everything you give her, inner walls gripping you like a vise, fluttering with the beginning of her orgasm.

"Look at me," you command, one hand moving to cup her jaw, forcing her gaze to meet yours. "Want to see your eyes when you come."

Her gaze locks with yours, dark irises nearly swallowed by dilated pupils. There's something raw and vulnerable in her expression that contrasts sharply with her usual guarded demeanor. A single tear tracks down her temple, disappearing into her hairline—overwhelmed by sensation, by the intensity of feeling you so deep inside her.

You grip her small, firm breast in one hand, thumb brushing over the hardened nipple, while your other hand finds her throat. Not squeezing, just resting there, feeling her pulse race beneath your palm. The gesture is possessive, dominant, and her response is immediate—pupils dilating further, inner walls clenching around you.

"Going to come," she warns, voice thin and reedy, barely audible over the sound of your bodies meeting. "Don't stop, don't stop, please don't—"

Her words dissolve into a high-pitched keen as her orgasm crashes through her. Her pussy spasms around you in powerful waves, each contraction stronger than the last, milking your length with incredible strength. Her entire body goes rigid beneath you, back arched so dramatically only her head and hips remain on the mattress.

The sight of her coming undone – face contorted in ecstasy, throat working as she gasps for air, body surrendered completely to pleasure – burns itself into your memory with crystal clarity.

You continue thrusting through her orgasm, prolonging it, feeling each aftershock ripple through her overstimulated body. Only when her whimpers take on an edge of discomfort do you finally pull out, your cock glistening with her release, harder than it's ever been, angry red and pulsing with need.

Before you can move, Karina pushes you onto your back with surprising strength, swinging one leg over to straddle you. Her eyes are wild, desperate, platinum hair hanging in damp strands around her flushed face, lips swollen from kisses.

"My turn," she growls, positioning herself above your cock. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."

She sinks down onto your length in one fluid motion, taking you to the hilt with a satisfied groan. The wet heat of her pussy surrounds you, different from Ningning's but equally intoxicating. Where Ningning was all tight, gripping heat, Karina is velvet smoothness with deliberate control, her inner muscles rippling along your length in waves that suggest she's done her Kegels religiously.

"So fucking thick," she gasps, beginning to ride you with the perfect combination of speed and pressure. Her larger breasts bounce with each movement, nipples stiff peaks begging for attention. You reach up to cup them, feeling their weight in your palms, thumbs brushing over the sensitive tips.

She leans forward, changing the angle, her platinum hair falling around your faces like a curtain. The new position has the head of your cock dragging against her front wall with each movement, hitting that spot that makes her thighs tremble.

"Right there," she breathes against your lips, not quite kissing you, just sharing breath. "Can feel you so deep like this."

Ningning, still trembling from her recent orgasm, moves to join you. She positions herself beside you, her small hand sliding down your chest, over your stomach, to where you and Karina are joined. Her fingers find Karina's clit, circling it with practiced ease while her mouth finds your nipple, teeth grazing the sensitive peak.

The dual sensation – Ningning's mouth on your chest, Karina's pussy gripping your cock, the visual of both girls working together to maximize pleasure – sends jolts of electricity down your spine, coiling at the base, threatening to push you over the edge embarrassingly quickly.

"Not yet," Karina commands, reading your expression with unsettling accuracy. She slows her movements, rising until just the head of your cock remains inside her before sinking back down with agonizing slowness. "Want this to last."

Ningning shifts positions, moving behind Karina now, her small hands reaching around to cup Karina's breasts, taking over where your hands just were. The visual is incredible – Ningning's darker skin against Karina's paleness, her delicate fingers pinching Karina's nipples as she continues to ride you.

Karina's head falls back against Ningning's shoulder, throat exposed, eyes closed in concentration as she chases her pleasure. Her inner walls flutter around your length, the beginning of what promises to be an intense orgasm.

"She's close," Ningning murmurs, looking down at you with dark eyes, her chin resting on Karina's shoulder. One of her hands slides down Karina's stomach to find her clit again, rubbing in tight circles as Karina continues to ride you with increasing urgency. "Can feel how tight she's getting."

The sight of them together – Karina bouncing on your cock while Ningning touches her from behind – combined with the incredible sensation of Karina's pussy gripping you like a silken vise, brings you dangerously close to the edge again. Your balls tighten painfully, pressure building at the base of your spine, every muscle in your body tensing with impending release.

"Gonna come inside you," you warn, voice tight with the effort of holding back. "Can't wait any longer."

"Yes," Karina hisses, movements becoming more erratic as her own orgasm approaches. "Fill me up. Want to feel it."

Her platinum hair sticks to her sweat-slicked back, strands darkened by moisture. Beads of sweat roll down between her breasts, along her stomach, glistening in the fading light. The scent of sex fills the room – musky, primal, intoxicating – mingling with the faint coconut of Ningning's shampoo and the cherry sweetness of Karina's lip gloss.

Behind her, Ningning continues her ministrations, one hand on Karina's clit, the other reaching down to cup your balls, feeling their tightness, the way they draw up close to your body as you approach your peak.

"He's about to explode," Ningning announces, voice husky with renewed arousal despite her recent orgasm. Her fingers massage your balls gently, adding another layer of sensation that pushes you closer to the brink. "Can feel how tight they are."

Karina's movements become more deliberate, grinding down on each downstroke, creating a corkscrew motion that has the head of your cock hitting every sensitive spot inside her. Her inner walls flutter around your length, the telltale beginning of her orgasm.

"Don't stop," she gasps, eyes locking with yours, pupils so dilated her blue eyes look almost black. "Please, I'm so close, I'm right there—"

Her words cut off as her orgasm hits, body going rigid above you, thighs clamping down on your hips with bruising force. Her pussy contracts around you in powerful waves, each pulse threatening to pull your own release from you. Her face contorts in pleasure, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent scream, a single tear tracking down her flushed cheek as the intensity overwhelms her.

The visual of Karina coming undone above you – head thrown back against Ningning's shoulder, throat working as she tries to breathe through the pleasure, body trembling with the force of her release – combined with the rippling contractions of her pussy around your cock, finally shatters your control.

You grip her hips hard enough to leave bruises, fingertips digging into the soft flesh as you thrust up into her spasming heat. The first pulse of your orgasm hits with such intensity that your vision whites out momentarily, pleasure radiating from your core outward until every nerve ending is alight with sensation.

"Fuck, I'm coming," you growl, the words torn from your throat as you empty yourself inside her in hot, powerful spurts. Each pulse seems stronger than the last, your entire body seized in the grip of the most intense orgasm of your life. Your hips buck uncontrollably, driving deeper, prolonging the pleasure for both of you as her inner walls continue to milk every last drop from you.

Karina collapses forward onto your chest, her body still trembling with aftershocks. Her skin sticks to yours with sweat, her breathing ragged against your neck. Behind her, Ningning strokes her back gently, fingertips tracing the knobs of her spine with surprising tenderness.

For several minutes, the only sounds in the room are your collective breathing, gradually slowing as your heart rates return to something approaching normal. The scent of sex hangs heavy in the air, mingled with sweat and the faint traces of their different perfumes – Karina's expensive floral scent, Ningning's lighter coconut notes, both now thoroughly blended with the musk of shared pleasure.

Eventually, Karina shifts, wincing slightly as she lifts herself off your softening cock. A mixture of your release and her own arousal follows, dripping onto your stomach in a lewd display that somehow still manages to send a weak throb of interest through your spent cock.

She collapses beside you, one arm thrown across her eyes, chest still rising and falling with slightly labored breaths. Ningning moves to your other side, curling against you like a satisfied cat, her small hand coming to rest possessively on your chest.

The three of you lie there in sweat-soaked, satisfied silence, the reality of what just happened slowly sinking in as your brain begins to function again. Your body feels simultaneously weightless and heavy, every muscle pleasantly exhausted, skin hypersensitive as you come down from the most intense experience of your life.

Ningning's fingers trace lazy patterns across your chest, occasionally circling a nipple, making you twitch despite your complete exhaustion. Her head rests in the crook of your shoulder, damp hair tickling your skin. You can feel her heartbeat gradually slowing where her small breasts press against your side.

Karina reaches for your free hand, intertwining her fingers with yours in a gesture that feels surprisingly intimate after everything you've just done. Her thumb strokes the sensitive skin of your inner wrist, sending tiny shivers up your arm.

"So much better than bio class," she murmurs, voice still slightly hoarse from all her moaning. "Worth missing that test for sure."

You laugh, the sound pulling from deep in your chest. "Coach is gonna kill me when I get benched, but yeah... definitely worth it."

Ningning lifts her head to look at you, dark eyes still soft with lingering pleasure. She leans in to place a gentle kiss on your lips – so different from the desperate, hungry kisses you shared earlier. This one is almost sweet, her lips soft and yielding against yours.

When she pulls back, Karina immediately takes her place, claiming her own kiss. Her style is different – a little deeper, her tongue briefly tracing your lower lip before she pulls away with a small nip that makes you gasp.

"We should make this a regular thing," Karina suggests, trying to sound casual despite the hint of eagerness in her voice. Her fingers continue their gentle exploration, trailing down your stomach now, circling your navel, deliberately avoiding your spent cock.

"Mmm," Ningning agrees, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "Next time I go first though." The competitive edge is back in her voice, though softer now, wrapped in playfulness rather than genuine rivalry.

You find yourself laughing again, equal parts disbelief and delight. "There's going to be a next time?"

"Duh," they say in unison, then exchange a look and burst into giggles.

Karina props herself up on one elbow, pushing damp platinum strands behind her ear. With her makeup smudged and her hair a mess, she looks younger somehow, more like the girl who sits behind you in English rather than the untouchable dance team captain.

"I wonder if Yujin would want to join us sometime," she muses, glancing at both of you. "Now that I know about your little secret hookup."

Your face heats up at the mention of what you thought was your private encounter. "You think she'd be into this?"

Ningning shakes her head slightly. "She kept that whole thing with you totally quiet. Didn't even tell us, and we tell each other everything." She shoots a meaningful look at Karina. "She might not be into sharing."

"Maybe," Karina concedes with a thoughtful expression. "But I've seen how she looks at Ningning during practice."

Ningning rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of a blush on her cheeks. "Whatever."

"And I'm still determined to finish what Chaewon started with you at Jackson's party," Karina continues, poking Ningning's side playfully. "Before she chickened out."

"She didn't chicken out, she just got weird about it," Ningning protests, but there's a wistful quality to her voice. "Said she wasn't ready or something."

"Trust me," Karina says confidently, "if she saw what I just saw, she'd definitely be ready. We just need to ease her into it."

Your eyes widen at the casual way they're discussing expanding this... whatever this is. Your cock gives a valiant twitch despite being completely spent, drawing knowing smirks from both girls.

"Look at that," Karina teases, glancing down at your slight movement. "Someone likes the idea."

"Don't break him," Ningning warns, reaching across you to flick Karina's arm lightly. "We need him functional for next time."

Karina catches Ningning's hand, bringing it to her lips for a quick kiss before releasing it. The gesture speaks to a depth of connection between them that goes beyond the competitive dynamic you've witnessed so far.

"So what do you say?" Karina asks, blue eyes fixed on yours, one eyebrow raised in challenge. "Ready to be our regular class-skipping buddy?"

"With benefits," Ningning adds with a suggestive smile, her hand drifting dangerously close to your cock again, though it's far too soon for you to respond.

You think about your day just hours ago – boring, predictable, defined by classes and swim meets and the constant pressure to maintain your GPA. Then you look at these two incredible girls curled against you, their bodies warm and soft, offering something you never imagined would be within your reach.

"Bio test was today," you remind yourself aloud, wincing slightly. "I'm definitely getting a zero."

"You can make it up," Karina says with a dismissive wave. "Just tell Mr. Park you were sick or something."

Ningning nods in agreement, her fingers drawing circles on your chest. "No one's gonna believe you'd skip for no reason anyway. You're like, annoyingly responsible."

As they continue chatting, arms draped across your body, heads resting against your shoulders, you find yourself wondering what exactly you've gotten yourself into. The dance team's secret hookup? Their shared boyfriend? The guy lucky enough to be their favorite distraction?

Whatever this is, whatever label might eventually apply, one thing is certain: there's no way you're backing out now.

Bio test be damned, you think, pulling both girls closer as you sink into the comfort of Karina's bed.

This is definitely worth getting benched for.

#malereader #kpop smut #cloudtrnsprncy #cloudtsmut #smut #karina x reader #ningning x reader #karina #ningning

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prael · 6 months ago

Text

Day 1: Scandal

Aespa Karina x male reader smut

words: 4,260 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

They're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster. People scrambled in the aftermath, but the damage had been done, the proverbial milk spilt. And oh, did the milk spill alright. It sounds like everyone had tuned in right around the country. Hell, right around the world.

If they didn't catch it live, then they certainly caught the post-game replays.

There are a lot of those going around.

No amount of damage control could have prevented it from exploding all over the Internet and into every gossip rag imaginable. But damn it if her PR team hadn't tried to stop it anyway. They had gone on the offence—attacking everyone and anyone who had even so much as hinted at the incident. Filing every legal document they could just get it removed.

It doesn't matter. The damage is done. The ties are cut and you're both hung out to dry.

Well before it happened, there had been warnings. Karina was still fresh off the back of her first Dispatch leak. The two of them weren't even really dating. Two young, rich and hot adults were just fooling around, so once it hit the press and the online articles came in, she took the axe to that relationship right away. She could always find another dick to ride on.

That she did; your dick, and damn did she ride it.

It was a friend of a friend thing. You know one of those 'I showed this girl your picture and she wants to get to know you' things. To be honest, you thought it was a joke. Of course, you did. How often does some K-pop starlet want to have dinner with you?

Anyway, three months down the line and you're two and half months deep into, well, being deep into her.

Her apartment is nice. Her bed is nicer, or at least it is with her in it.

You spent night after night together doing every nasty, carnal thing she wanted. She loves it. You would come to realise she's a bit of a nymphomaniac—and you fucking love it. But, even still, you kept it casual. Kept it quiet.

Didn't work too well.

There was a close call, once.

You put it down to getting a little too comfortable. The guard slipped for just the briefest moment of weakness. Though, if anything, you would at least put part of the blame on the whole system. See, Karina can't catch a flight without the entire thing being documented. She arrives at the airport and they're all there waiting with cameras in hand to get the latest snap of her airport fashion as she comes out of the van. They know what flight she's on and the exact departure time, and then when she lands there's another group of fans waiting.

So it goes without saying, you two can't just waltz in there hand-in-hand. So you book the same flight, seated far enough away from her that no one would question a thing. You shouldn't speak, not until you're safely at the other end and in the privacy of the hotel room, but Karina is Karina.

So she texted you, this one time in the departure lounge. A twenty-minute window and directions to the toilets of the private lounge. There, in the small cubicle, you slipped down her jeans, turned her around, bent her over and made her feel good.

It was quick and messy. Nothing like how the sex would be in her hotel later that night. You had her cheek pressed against the door of the cubicle, your hand covering her mouth to stifle the noise, and your dick going balls deep in her hot pussy while her hand rubbed away at her clit. It was desperate and hungry—more the need to release the sexual tension than to enjoy it.

But damn was it fun.

She deepened the arch of her back and presented herself just that bit more for you and you watched every inch go inside her with each thrust. Watched as your cock spread apart those soft pussy lips of hers and vanished into the warm embrace of her body. Her ass shook as your hips slapped against it and eventually, her legs trembled so much that you had to wrap your arm around her waist to keep her up.

But when you came—and you came deep—someone entered the bathroom. Their presence was unknown until you heard the faucet run. For a brief, horrifying moment you thought it might be someone waiting to bust you.

A security guard or maybe a tabloid reporter ready to get their story. The scandal of the century? Not quite.

Just another passenger. They didn't even realise who they were next to as they washed their hands. But the idea that you both could've been caught, had Karina let that moan slip or if you hadn't just stopped pounding her against the door so hard that it rattled the hinges.

Afterwards, with your spent dick sliding out from between her tight thighs, it was something Karina whispered in your ear. She said, "That was close. We'll have to be more careful."

If only you knew just how careless she was about to be...

See, it was a pretty normal evening. She texted you a time to come over, and you took all the usual precautions. (There's a side door into the block and a service elevator that Karina made sure to get the passcode for.) Admittedly, you got there five minutes early, but it wasn't the first time it had happened, and since the first time, Karina made sure to leave a sock on the bedroom door just in case it happened again. She was streaming, you see, an Instagram live session. One of those things where the adoring fans get to listen to their idols talk about themselves, or their day, or sometimes with Karina, something a little out of the ordinary.

So you waited. A drink of water, sitting on her couch, and letting curiosity take over. You opened up her Instagram, watched her for a few minutes, and smiled to yourself because, as usual, she was simply being Karina. No topic, just rambling, but there were thousands watching anyway, because well, why wouldn't they?

A smile crept onto your face as you watched, knowing that she was in the next room, just looking that good, and soon enough you would be in there ravishing her. There were thousands upon thousands of other people, jealous of you without even realising you existed, who would give almost anything to be in your shoes—to be able to do the things you do to Karina. Fuck, some of them would probably sell everything they owned.

Then she started saying goodbye to people. Signing off, wishing them a good night, whatever. So you locked the phone and waited until she came down the hallway.

She was moving quickly, right towards you. Bare feet hitting the wooden floor in hurried little slaps. She jumped right into your lap without so much as a 'Hello', and she clamped her legs, clad in tight yoga pants, around your waist. She grabbed either side of your face and kissed you, a hand reaching back and pulling on the hair at the base of your skull as she did.

And it wasn't soft either.

It was fierce and aggressive. Her tongue forced its way into your mouth, pushing against your own, flicking over your teeth. She ground herself against the erection growing beneath her and breathed hot breath against your lips while biting down on the lower one.

"You," she gasped. "Take me to the bedroom... Now."

"Hi to you too," you joked, putting your arms under her butt.

She was so very easy to carry. Maybe because you had done it so many times before. But she had always been a light little thing, so slender apart from exactly the places you would want her to be big. It always made it so easy to pin her against the wall with her leg over your shoulder, to press her up against the shower and bounce her up and down on your cock while steam filled the bathroom. But mostly it was great because you could easily throw her down on the bed.

Tonight wasn't going to be any different.

Except it was, wasn't it? But neither of you knew that just yet.

As you walked toward her room, holding her gorgeous body up with nothing but a firm grasp on her ass, she kept whispering things to you. Whispered them right against your ear, her voice low and husky as she did. She told you about all the things that she wanted you to do to her. The things that she wanted to do to you. Like some raw, filthy script of a play long overdue to be performed.

"...and then I want you to put it right back in my pussy and cum in me again and again," she said it right as you pushed through the door. Look, Karina's room isn't that huge, but when you're dying to get your cock into her, going all the way to the bed seemed like such a pain when there was a perfectly good wall right there. You turned and pinned her against it.

There you two stayed for a while, locked in that embrace, kissing and nibbling. She wrestled your shirt off over your head while you peeled up her sports bra. You bent your head down to her chest and kissed along the valley between her breasts. Her soft skin warm against your lips, and you kept pressing them down on her, leaving faint wet marks until you reached one of those pert pink nipples. You cupped her tit and you sucked. Hard.

A little whimper of appreciation followed by a slight tremble through her body was the response.

You went from one to the other. Fingers caressing one and your mouth on the other, switching between them, never fully committing to either, keeping her guessing as to which nipple would feel the bliss next. Karina knew what she wanted, and she simply wouldn't wait. Maybe the rush to get fucked could be blamed for all of this.

See, while you sucked her tits, she pulled down her leggings and her underwear. Maybe it was desperation, maybe it was convenience, but she didn't even pull them past her knees. Instead, as you continued your adoration, she unbuckled your belt and let your trousers fall to the floor. Your underwear didn't last long either. She gave a couple of lazy strokes up the length of your cock, just enough for her to feel it getting hard. Enough for her to know you could give her what she needs.

She twisted between you and the wall and leaned against it; her tits pressing against the white paintwork, and she stuck out her ass. "Don't hold back," she instructed. "I need it."

For all the focus you gave her tits, Karina does have a hell of an ass.

So with her arms up above her head and grasping high, she looked perfect. The swell of her hips, the curve of her ass—it was just to be grabbed and slapped. Those legs looked fucking perfect, slightly muscled from hours of dance practice but still so thin and lean. And between them... fuck. If there's such a thing as a pussy so good it should win awards then Karina better prepare her speech.

You weren't gentle.

Gentle doesn't work for her. Gentle is boring. Normal. Vanilla. Karina's tasted it all before and she's bored. You won't remember the first time she said those words to you. She made you promise not to judge her but she told you exactly how depraved and slutty she really wants to be in bed.

So when she said, "Fuck me hard," you did exactly that.

Spit on your cock was enough to get it slick. You stroked the tip up and down across her waiting pussy a couple of times and found the right place. Then you slid it right inside her, letting it rest buried for just a moment before you pulled back. You didn't even go halfway before you thrust it right back into her. Right down to the balls. Deep as you can go.

A pleasured hiss passed over clenched teeth as her cheek pressed against the wall and she nodded, just once, telling you that she wanted more. You fucked her harder, feeling her hot insides clench at your cock. Her hips smacked against the wall with each thrust, the room echoing with the sounds of your flesh coming together. The squelch of her wet hole was barely audible over her cries. Cries that steadily increased in volume the longer you held her against the wall, the more aggressively you bucked your hips against her, the harder you drove your dick into her body.

"Don't stop!" she cried out as her legs shivered.

No danger of that.

Maybe you should have.

Karina was struggling. To not fall apart in your hands, to hold herself against the wall, but also just to keep breathing as the intensity of your deep pounding washed over her, making her shudder and shake in front of you. One of her hands flew down to between her legs. The tips of her fingers went in a circle around her clit.

But as much fun as taking her against the wall was, she would fall if you continued.

So you did what you knew you could so easily do, just threw her. Her quivering body collapsed onto her bed after a small stumble. Right into the one place in the room, she shouldn't be.

See, Karina was sitting just here, maybe ten minutes earlier. You were watching, on your phone. She had chatted and joked and waved goodbye, just where you were about to fuck her.

She clambered up the bed and onto all fours, looking back at you with lust-drunk eyes, urging you on, needing to be fucked some more. So you crawled right up behind her, took a grip of those beautiful hips and you slipped your cock back inside her.

One stroke and you bottomed out within her.

Two strokes and she began moaning again.

By the third, you were slamming her forward with each push.

The bed creaked in protest as you hammered yourself into Karina, keeping up with what she wanted as she pushed back at you, meeting every buck of your hips with equal force and speed. At least one orgasm tore through her body. You felt it in the way her body contracted around your thick shaft as you drove it deep inside her, but also heard it in the way she screeched through gritted teeth. Saw it as she clawed at the blankets, grabbing handfuls of material and pulling at them as her body tensed up.

"Cum," she pleaded with just the one word.

And that's what you did. Her little pussy made sure of it. Feeling her spasm around you, squeezing your throbbing cock so tightly that you couldn't resist but join her in ecstasy. So you flooded her sweet cunt, sending ropes of cum into her waiting body, painting her walls, feeling every inch of her pussy pulse as her body urged yours to give her everything it had. Her cries mingled with the heavy panting as you emptied your balls within her.

You couldn't keep it up. Fucking Karina sometimes feels too intense, takes so much energy out of you, makes your muscles burn. So you had to withdraw from her and rest back on your haunches, catching your breath, your heart racing. But Karina is Karina.

She turned around and before you could move, she had taken hold of your thighs and moved forward. Her lips wrapped around the tip of your glistening cock and began sucking on it. As her tongue rolled across the slit and along the underside, tasting your seed and her own juices combined. Her cheeks hollowed, eyes staring up at you from behind damp hair and you felt her moans reverberating through you.

How can she do this every time? How can she make you recover so quickly? Because you did. No sooner had Karina placed her head in your lap than you grew hard again. You were left fighting that war against conflicting desires: whether to push her off and have her again or keep the pleasure of having her mouth on you. Every swirl of her tongue across the sensitive parts of your cock, the feeling of her lips gliding along its length, her throat opening and the tightness taking your crown.

"Oh shit..." you groaned. "Are you trying to kill me?"

She didn't answer but you noticed her hips wiggle slowly side-to-side.

It wasn't long before she relinquished the grasp she had on your thighs and let you pull her into position. A roll onto her back. A pillow under her lower back. You hooked one leg over your shoulder while she held the other out wide, laying right on the edge of the bed. You sank into her again and again, rocking the entire bed with each thrust.

And how you only wish now that you had at literally any point taken a look to your right. Maybe you would have questioned why her phone was still there. Maybe you would have made her check the thing was actually off.

Of course, you know now the mistake that Karina made.

You pushed her down into the bed, pressing her leg against her chest as you fucked her. Fucked her deeply. You had changed the tempo now, switched to something slower, more powerful and purposeful. That load you left in her cunt made the whole thing a mess. You pounded into her and it spilt between you, running down her ass and soaking her bedding. Karina gasped as her second climax crashed through her.

Her phone caught it all.

Every minute.

When Karina came, so loud, so hard, so intense that she didn't know who or where she was, people were watching. Her fans watched. When she said your name as she stared up into your eyes with such gratitude, they were listening. And when you came for the second time, she made sure everyone could hear.

"I feel it," she whispered, her fingers digging into your arms. "I feel it. All of it. Give me more. Fill me."

She pulled at her thighs, spreading herself open and making you groan into the crook of her neck as your throbbing dick pulsed, unleashing another load of thick cum deep within her body, making another wonderful mess. Leaving her already soaked cunt saturated. Together you lay like that, two exhausted bodies wrapped in an embrace, your cock twitching, occasionally releasing a few drops inside her. Karina giggled.

"There's nothing better than that feeling," she groaned. "Nothing... better."

She looked right into your eyes as she said it.

"It's my favourite thing in the world."

So you kissed her, both of you falling into the tangled mass of sweat-soaked blankets while you stayed on top of her. She didn't want to let go, not yet, not while the closeness and warmth were shared. Your bodies pressed together with your softening cock still inside her until eventually you slipped out and came to lie beside her. She nestled up against your chest.

In the silence that proceeded, there was a vibration across the room. Your phone is still in your pocket, somewhere on the floor. You let it ring out, while you lay there, breathing heavily. Again it vibrated. "Ugh," you groaned, "Leave me alone."

"Is someone missing you?" Karina teased.

"Doubt it," you replied.

Karina let her hand trace patterns across your chest, moving slowly towards your hip. You knew the game. Get you hard again, and ride you into the middle of next week. It worked, too. Even though you protested, her hand wrapping around your shaft soon brought it back to life. Sensitive strokes had you squirming and groaning.

"Well, whoever it is will just have to deal with the fact you're mine tonight," she purred.

Then you heard an unusual noise. Another buzz. But not your phone. From somewhere else. But you paid it no attention as Karina got up from your chest, swung her leg over you and began lowering herself down onto you. What started as slow gentle fucking quickly progressed back to something far hungrier and desperate. Her nails dragged lines across your torso, your hands gripping tightly at her waist to steady her. You watched as your cum leaked out of her cunt and onto you as she rode.

You reached between her legs and scooped up a blob, bringing it to her lips.

"Lick it," you told her. "Taste it."

And she opened wide for your fingers and cleaned them up. "That's what you wanted?"

"Yeah. Tell me what it tastes like."

"Tastes like us," she moaned, fucking you faster, pushing you deeper.

Then she leaned back, making a show of the way she rolled her hips against you. Bouncing as she impaled herself on you. Her head rolled back and her eyes closed as another orgasm approached. It built slowly, the intensity growing higher and higher until she teetered on the edge, balanced between bliss and rapture. The way her tits bounced had you hypnotised. Focus locked on her. Ignoring the phone that continued to ring.

She was close. Really close. Riding you frantically. Her moans turned into short desperate gasps until she had no voice left. You heard the scream before and saw how hard she came, but now you had front-row seats to watch it all again. Her muscles tightened and spasmed. Her rhythm faltered.

Your phone rang.

"Shit. Oh fuck!" she screamed, throwing her head back, arching her spine and freezing mid-thrust.

Her cunt gripped you tightly. Squeezing, milking. Urging you to release within her once more and give her that final gift. You felt her leak over you. Watched as her pussy throbbed as she rode out those final moments, struggling to continue as her strength failed. You grabbed her hips and did the work. Thrusting up into her repeatedly. Feeling her cum dribbling down your shaft and over your balls. Fuck, she's messy.

She panted desperately and let her arms drop by her side, staying arched and leaning back. You helped her balance. She needed it.

Your phone kept ringing.

You ignored it. You fucked up into her, wanting nothing more than to cum inside her again. Your muscles burned. You clenched your teeth. The pressure in your lower abdomen was unbearable. But you pounded up into Karina, making her call out with each thrust, while your grip on her probably turned her hips purple. The pleasure in you rose and rose, so fast, so intense, and without warning it broke.

You came again.

Holding her down and shooting your cum deep inside her. Gasping for air as you did, flooding her body with rope after rope until her insides dripped. Her thighs became glazed in the evidence of your passion.

Then you lowered her down to lie against your chest and you held her close. Until her breathing settled and you could hear her purr, "I think you've outdone yourself this time."

"I think you'll kill me," you joked in return.

"But imagine how happy I'd be if you died from giving me too many orgasms."

A laugh. Another vibration. "Whoever that is must really need me," you grumbled.

"Fuck them," she laughed.

"Why, when I can keep fucking you?"

Karina bit her lip. She seemed pleased with that answer. Then you realised that even as you softened within her, she hadn't stopped grinding against you. Making those slow circles, keeping herself stimulated and trying to get you hard again.

"You're relentless," you marvelled.

"And you love it."

"I love-"

There's a bang at the door and then a bell.

Karina groaned. She sighed. She relented.

Then she rolled off your spent cock, letting it slip from her swollen cunt and you both stared at the ceiling. "Maybe they'll go away?" you mused. They didn't.

"Come on," she huffed. "Stay there. Let me get rid of them."

You listened to her walk across the hardwood floor in her bare feet. Unstable steps courtesy of your enthusiastic rutting.

She pulled on a robe and left the room. Your phone vibrated again as she left, so finally you rolled out of the bed, crawled to find your pants and pulled the damn thing out.

More missed calls and messages than you could count, and not just one person. Your friends, Karina's friends, and... Karina's manager? Face recognition kicked in and the phone unlocked. You're staring at Karina's messy bed.

You're staring at Karina's messy bed on your screen.

The icon has the word 'live' beside it.

You're staring at Karina's messy bed on Instagram Live.

Your heart stops beating. Your breath catches in your throat. You swallow nothing. Wait. One. Two. Three.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" is the scream from across the apartment. You look at the phone again. Karina's messy bed, on Instagram Live, with millions of viewers.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

That was when the realisation of your combined carelessness struck you both—separated by a wall, finding out from two different sources.

Now, they're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster.

#Karina smut #Aespa smut #male reader #kpop smut #m reader #Karina x reader #praelmas #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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barnacles34 · 6 months ago

Text

Professional Hazard (And Blue Tongues)

Karina x Male Reader

9k words

18+ smut

'I expected you to have...'

'Grey hair? Glasses thick as tank armor?' You lean back. 'Let me guess—ancient and decrepit?'

'Something like that.' She toys with her iced americano, ice cubes clinking.

'Get that more than you'd think.'

'Can't imagine why.'

'Sure you can't.'

She straightens in her chair. 'Well? Are you going to ask your questions or what?'

'Did you have something specific in mind?'

'I thought you'd at least come prepared.' The sharp edge in her voice softens, adapting. 'After that email you sent.'

'I am prepared.'

'Do you know who I am?'

'I know you're Karina. I know you agreed to fund my little Italian vacation.' You keep your voice flat, unimpressed.

She laughs, short and sharp. 'They really sent someone who knows nothing.'

'Biographers aren't exactly growing on trees these days. Most of them are busy dying off.' [1]

'That's comforting.'

'About as comforting as your enthusiastic response to my email.'

'Ah.' She smirks. 'My monument to hubris?'

'Your words, not mine.'

'Christ, you're not exactly sunshine and roses, are you?'

'If only you knew.'

'Oh, I think I do.' She leans forward. 'People like me—we're your bread and butter. Desperate enough to take the abuse just to get that book written.'

'Quick study.'

'Experience, darling.' She draws out the last word like stretched taffy.

'If immortality's what you're after, we're off to a rocky start.'

'Not even grateful for the Italian holiday?'

You meet her eyes. 'Bribery's nothing new. Don't expect it to polish your image.'

'Tough nut to crack, aren't you?'

'I have what I need.'

'Meaning?'

'Let me put this delicately: my last subject bought me a year at New York's finest.' [2]

'Fantastic.' She rattles her ice cubes harder.

'You know what I think?' She sets down her drink with deliberate care.

'Enlighten me.'

'I think you enjoy this. The whole "unimpressed biographer" act.'

You pull out your notebook, unhurried. 'That'd make a great chapter one. "Local girl psychoanalyzes writer, lives to regret it."'

'There it is again.' Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. 'Tell me, do your subjects usually last long enough for chapter two?'

'The interesting ones do.'

'And the boring ones?'

You flip open to a blank page. 'They get a lovely rejection letter.'

'Which I didn't.'

'Yet.'

She leans back, studying you. The late afternoon sun catches the edge of her glass, throwing prismatic shapes across the table. 'You really don't care that I could walk away right now.'

'The door's right there.' You click your pen. 'But we both know you won't.'

'Because?'

'Because you didn't spend three months negotiating with my publisher just to storm off over hurt feelings.'

'Maybe I just like wasting time.'

'Maybe.' You meet her gaze. 'But people who like wasting time don't usually have a dozen designer brand sponsorships.'

Something shifts in her expression—surprise, maybe, or respect. 'So you did do your homework.'

'I always do.' You position your pen over the blank page. 'Now, shall we begin with the real questions?'

'Shoot.' She shifts in her chair, the late afternoon sun warming the cafe corner we've claimed.

'Tell me about your sister.'

Her eyebrows lift slightly. 'Not starting with the obvious questions?'

'Would you prefer those?'

'No.' She smiles, genuine this time. 'She's a nurse. Like our mom.'

'Close?'

'Very. She's the only person who still calls me Jimin.' She stirs her americano. 'Probably the only person who can get away with it, too.'

'Why's that?'

'Because she knew me when I was just the quiet kid who'd rather read in corners than talk to anyone. Before all of...' She waves her hand vaguely. 'This.'

'Still prefer corners?'

'Sometimes.' She considers the question. 'There's this tiny bookstore in Seongnam. When I go home, I still visit. They have this perfect spot by the window.'

'What do you read?'

'Whatever catches my eye. Last week it was about sharks.'

You raise an eyebrow. 'Sharks?'

'Don't look so surprised.' She laughs. 'They're fascinating. Everyone thinks they know them, but they don't, not really.'

'Speaking from experience?'

She takes a long sip of her drink instead of answering.

'You don't have to do that, you know.' You set your pen down.

'Do what?'

'Deflect. Turn everything into a metaphor.'

She meets your eyes for a long moment. 'Force of habit.'

'Bad one.'

'Says the person who's been matching my deflections word for word.' A half-smile plays at her lips. 'We're quite the pair, aren't we?'

'Difference is, I'm paid to be difficult.'

'And I was raised to be.' The words slip out before she can catch them. Her fingers tighten around her glass.

You wait.

'You're good at this,' she says quietly.

'At what?'

'Making silence comfortable.' She looks out the window. 'Most people try to fill it.'

'Most people aren't trying to understand.'

She turns back to you, something shifting in her expression. 'Is that what you're trying to do? Understand?'

'Would that be so terrible?'

'No,' she says.

'Progress.' You pick up your pen again. 'Though I've just realized something deeply troubling.'

'What's that?'

'Your americano's been empty for ten minutes, and you're still pretending to drink it.'

She glances at her glass, caught. 'Method acting.'

'Ah yes, the classic "I'm too invested in this conversation to pause for a refill" performance.' You wave to catch the barista's eye. 'Oscar-worthy.'

'Says the person who hasn't touched their...' She leans forward to peek at your cup. 'What even is that?'

'Green tea.'

'Pretentious.'

'Says the person who ordered an iced americano in winter.'

'It's barely spring.'

'Case in point.'

The barista arrives with fresh drinks. Karina raises an eyebrow at your cup. 'Still green tea?'

'I'm consistent.'

'Boring.'

'Strategic.' You take a deliberate sip. 'Can't blame caffeine jitters for whatever honesty slips out.'

'Sneaky.'

'Professional.'

'Same thing.' She stirs her new drink, ice cubes clinking. 'So what's next in your strategic interrogation?'

'Thought we agreed to drop the deflection thing.'

'Old habits. Ten seconds at a time.'

'That's oddly specific.'

'It's how I learned to swim.' At your questioning look, she continues, 'Ten seconds of courage. Then you can panic all you want.'

'Does that work?'

'Got me here, didn't it?' She gestures between you two. 'Letting a stranger with a notebook and suspiciously consistent beverage choices pick apart my life.'

'You could always run.'

'To where? Croatia?' She laughs at your surprised expression. 'What? I have dreams.'

'Of Croatia specifically?'

'Of anywhere that doesn't know my name.'

'That's rather poetic for someone who just called me pretentious.'

'I contain multitudes.' She mock-bows in her seat.

'Walt Whitman now?'

'See? You're not the only one who can be insufferably well-read.'

You make a show of writing something down.

You flip to a fresh page. 'Tell me about Croatia.'

'Nothing to tell. Just a place.'

'There are plenty of places that don't know your name. Why that one?'

She traces the rim of her glass again, a habit you've started to recognize as her thinking gesture. 'Have you ever seen those old coastal towns? The ones with narrow streets and buildings that look like they're having conversations with each other?'

'Been to a few.'

'I want to get lost in one.' She looks up. 'Properly lost. No GPS, no itinerary. Just... walking until my feet decide to stop.'

'Most people want to be found.'

'Most people haven't spent years being findable.' The sharpness in her voice surprises both of you. She softens it with a smile. 'Sorry. That sounded more dramatic than intended.'

'Don't apologize. It's the first time you've stopped performing since we sat down.'

'I haven't been—' She stops. Laughs. 'Okay. Point taken.'

'Progress. Again.'

'You're keeping score?'

'Always.' You tap your notebook. 'It's kind of the whole point.'

'And how am I doing?'

'In being honest or deflecting?'

'Both.'

'You're averaging about fifty-fifty.'

'Generous scoring.'

'Strategic encouragement.'

'You're good at that.' She stretches slightly. 'Making people think they're in control of the conversation.'

'Are you not?'

'Please. We both know you've been steering this ship since you sat down.' She pauses. 'Though I will say, you're the first interviewer who hasn't asked about my routine yet.'

'Your routine?'

'You know. "What time do you wake up? What's your skincare regimen? How many hours do you practice?" That whole song and dance.'

'Would you like me to ask?'

'God no.' She grins. 'But I'm curious why you haven't.'

'Because routines are what people do. I'm more interested in who they are.'

'And who am I?'

'Still figuring that out. But I know you crack your knuckles when you're nervous.'

She stops mid-crack, caught. 'Observant.'

'Professional hazard.' You lean forward. 'Tell me something real. Not about routines or schedules or practices.'

'Like what?'

'Like what you think about at three AM when you can't sleep.'

She's quiet for a long moment. 'Sometimes I forget what my natural speaking voice sounds like.'

'What do you mean?'

'You spend so many years modulating everything—your voice, your laugh, your reactions—until one day...' She shrugs. 'One day you catch yourself using your "public" voice to order coffee at 3 AM in an empty convenience store, and you realize you can't remember what you used to sound like.'

'And that bothers you.'

'Wouldn't it bother you? Losing something that fundamental without even noticing it was gone?'

'Is that why we're here? Trying to find it again?'

'Maybe.' She smiles, but it's different now. Unpolished. 'Or maybe I'm just tired of having "public" and "private" versions of everything.'

'Including your voice.'

'Including my entire existence.'

'Right.' You snap your notebook shut. 'We're getting gelato.'

—

[1] The suspicious rate at which biographers are "dying off" has become something of an industry joke. Three prominent biographers mysteriously retired after attempting to write about a certain K-pop company's CEO. Totally not suspicious.

[2] The Plaza Hotel, to be specific. Said subject was a tech billionaire whose autobiography mysteriously never made it to print. The hotel suite, however, maintains legendary status among New York's housekeeping staff for its impressive collection of empty green tea bottles and rejection letters.

—

She blinks. 'What?'

'We're walking.' You stand, gathering your things. 'Unless you have somewhere to be?'

'Are you actually asking, or is this another strategic move?'

'Both. Neither. Whatever. Does it matter if there's gelato involved?'

A genuine laugh escapes her. 'Fair point.'

The early evening air hits your faces as you step outside. She pulls on a cap—more habit than disguise.

'Left or right?' you ask.

'You're the one who lives here.'

'Technically, I've been here three days.'

'And you already know where to get gelato?'

'First thing I do in any city. Professional secret.'

'Ah yes, the biographer's handbook. Chapter One: locate ice cream immediately.'

'Chapter Two: never reveal your sources.' You turn left. 'Unless they're wearing a questionably large cap and hiding from their own voice.'

'Low blow.' But she's grinning. 'Also, my cap is perfectly sized.'

'For what? Smuggling library books?'

'That's... oddly specific.'

'Says the person who just quoted Walt Whitman in a cafe.'

You find the gelato place tucked between a bookstore and a vintage shop. The owner, an elderly Italian woman, lights up at your approach.

'Due?' she asks.

'Sì,' you reply, then turn to Karina. 'What's your poison?'

She studies the flavors intently. 'What's the most unusual one?'

'Professional or personal answer?'

'There's a difference?'

'Professional would be something elegant. Personal...' You point to a vivid blue flavor. 'That one tastes like your childhood imaginary friend made a pact with a Smurf.'

She doesn't hesitate. 'Two scoops of that, please.'

'Really?'

'What?' She raises an eyebrow. 'Scared of a little blue tongue?'

'More scared of what my editor will say when the interview notes are stained cerulean.'

Ten minutes later, you're both leaning against a stone wall, gelato dripping in the warm evening air. Her tongue is, indeed, impressively blue.

'Yah! Why are you taking a picture?”

'Your tongue. I need photographic evidence for my editor.'

She complains, ‘self-respecting people would’ve walked a long time ago.’

‘And let me guess-’

‘Correct. Take a picture if you want.’

'Pulitzer worthy.' You take another bite of your considerably more dignified pistachio. 'So tell me about the sharks.'

'You're still on that?'

'You brought up marine biology in a cafe and then mysteriously changed the subject. I'm invested now.'

'There's nothing mysterious about it.' She licks a drop of blue from her knuckle. 'I just think they're neat.'

'That's the worst deflection yet.'

'Fine.' She pushes off the wall, starting to walk. 'When I was younger, I used to think they were lonely.'

You fall into step beside her. 'Sharks?'

'Mm. Always swimming, never stopping. Everyone afraid of them.' She shrugs. 'Stupid kid logic.'

'And now?'

'Now I think they're just... misunderstood.' She grins. 'That was terrible, wasn't it? Like a bad movie line.'

'Terrible. But honest.'

'You and your honesty fetish.'

'Says the person who just admitted to emotionally relating to sharks.'

She snorts, nearly dropping her cone. 'When you put it that way—'

'Oh, I'm definitely putting it that way. It's going in the book.'

'Absolutely not.'

'Chapter title: "The Shark Whisperer”. I can see it already'

She tries to hip-check you, but you dodge, protecting your gelato. 'I'm revoking your creative license.'

'Too late. The mental image of baby Jimin crying over shark documentaries is seared into my brain.'

'I did not cry over—' She stops. 'Okay, maybe once. But it was a very sad documentary.' [1]

The sun is setting now, painting the cobblestones gold. You pass a street musician playing something soft and acoustic.

'Your sister know about the sharks?'

'Of course. She bought me the books.' Her smile turns fond. 'Still does, actually. Sends them to me randomly.'

'Recent ones?'

'Last week.' She finishes her cone. 'She has... interesting timing.'

'Interesting timing?'

'Mm.' She wipes her hands on a napkin. 'Right after I told her about the interview. She sent me one about great whites. Said something about facing fears.'

'Subtle.'

'About as subtle as your interview techniques.' She eyes your notebook, still tucked away. 'Not writing anymore?'

'Memory's better when I'm walking.' You tap your temple. 'Also, harder to write about blue tongues while walking.'

'Still blue?'

'Devastatingly so.'

She sticks her tongue out at a passing window, checking her reflection. 'Oh god, it's worse than I thought.'

'Crisis?'

'Please. I once had to perform with my hair half-green because of a dye mishap. This?' She gestures to her mouth. 'This is nothing.'

'Half-green?'

'Not going in the book.'

'Already mentally drafting the chapter.'

She groans. 'I'm starting to regret this whole walking thing.'

'Because of the blackmail material or the exercise?'

'Both. Neither.' She pauses by a small fountain. 'It's just... nice.'

'Nice?'

'Yeah.' She sits on the fountain's edge. 'No schedule. No plan. Just... walking and talking and eating questionably colored gelato with a stranger who probably thinks I'm having a quarter-life crisis.'

'Are you?'

'Having a crisis or eating gelato?'

'Now who's deflecting?'

And she pauses again, caught.

She dips her fingers in the fountain water, watching the ripples. 'Maybe I just wanted one normal evening. One conversation that wasn't prepackaged and pre-approved.'

'Mission accomplished, I'd say. Your tongue is literally blue.'

That startles a laugh out of her. 'You're never letting that go, are you?'

'It's going to be a running metaphor throughout the book. Deep, meaningful parallels between blue gelato and the human condition.'

'You're terrible at your job.'

'I'm excellent at my job. I got you to walk around Rome with blue teeth.'

'Is that the measure of success?'

'For this chapter? Absolutely.'

The street lamps are starting to flicker on, and the air has that peculiar Roman evening warmth that begs for a drink.

'Know any good bars?' she asks, as if reading your mind.

'Thought you'd never ask[2]. Fair warning though—my Italian's terrible.'

'Better or worse than your interview skills?'

'Much worse. But I can order Aperol Spritz in seventeen different ways.'

'Useful life skill.'

'More useful than relating to sharks.'

She shoves your shoulder lightly. 'One more shark joke and I'm leaving.'

'No, you're not.'

'No, I'm not.' She grins. 'Lead the way, worst Italian speaker.'

You find a tiny place tucked away from the main streets. The kind tourists don't know about, with mismatched chairs and a bartender who looks old enough to have served Caesar himself.

'Due aperol spritz, per favore.' You ask.

The bartender raises an eyebrow. 'Americano? Il tuo italiano è buono!' (your Italian was… apparently… good.)

'Peggio,' you say. 'Giornalista'

(‘Worse. Journalist.’)

He laughs, already reaching for glasses. Karina slides onto a barstool, looking around with genuine curiosity.

‘He seems pretty impressed by your Italian.’

‘Oh trust me—he wasn’t. He just wanted to be nice. That’s all. The inflections are quite easy to catch.’

‘Alright, whatever you say. Giornalista—.'

You grin at her cute prod.

'How'd you find this place?' She asks; needless to say, she likes it here.

'Got lost my first night here––five years ago. It was either come in or keep pretending I knew where my hotel was.'

'And?'

'Woke up knowing exactly where my hotel was. And how to say "I'm sorry" in Italian.'

She laughs. 'That bad?'

'Let's just say there's a reason I stick to green tea now.'

The drinks arrive, vivid orange against the dark wood of the bar.

'To blue tongues,' you raise your glass.

'And bad Italian,' she clinks hers against it.

—

[1] The documentary in question was "Blue Planet II." Her sister still has the receipt for three boxes of tissues and a plush shark from the aquarium gift shop. The plush shark now sits in her studio, wearing a tiny version of her debut outfit. Her company has tried to mass-produce it twice. She's vetoed it both times.

[2] You were never this humble about your Italian until you talked to an Italian nonna. "Qui giace la dignità di un giornalista" (Here lies a journalist's dignity).

—

'Speaking of bad decisions—'

'We weren't.'

'We are now. Tell me about the green hair incident.'

'Absolutely not.' She takes another sip of her spritz. 'Some secrets I'm taking to my grave.'

'Come on. Half-green hair? There's got to be a story there.'

'There is. A great one. You're still not hearing it.'

'I'll trade you.'

'Oh?' She turns on her stool to face you fully. 'What could you possibly have that's worth my green hair story?'

'Remember when I said I learned to say sorry in Italian?'

'The plot thickens.'

'Let's just say it involved a fountain, three angry nuns, and a very patient carabinieri.'

She nearly chokes on her drink. 'You're making that up.'

'Want to bet your green hair story on it?'

'You know what?' She signals the bartender for another round. 'Fine. But if you're lying, you're buying drinks for the rest of the night.'

'Deal.'

'And no taking notes.'

'Now that's just cruel.'

'Professional hazard,' she mimics your earlier tone, then grins. 'Okay, storyteller. Dazzle me.'

The bartender sets down fresh drinks, and you lean in conspiratorially. 'So picture this: my first night in Rome, about five years ago...'

'Wait.' She holds up a hand. 'We need to establish stakes. If this story doesn't involve all three elements—fountain, nuns, and police—you're not only buying drinks, you're telling me where you actually learned to say sorry in Italian.'

'Counter-offer. If my story checks out, I get the green hair story plus whatever happened at that music show in Busan.'

Her eyes narrow. 'What music show in Busan?'

'The one you just reacted to.'

'That's... that's actually impressive.'

'Five years of professional nosiness at work. Deal?'

She clinks her glass against yours. 'Deal. Now stop stalling.'

'Right. So. Five years ago. I'd just finished an interview with this ancient countess at the bar. I mean, it’s the bar. Who else gets to interview a countess at a bar? That’s like crazy Bourdain-level shit right there.’

She nods along. 'Of course you did.'

'Anyway, she invited me to this wine cellar...'

'Oh no.'

'Oh yes. And mind you, I was already quite drunk. And she was very, very insistent about hospitality...'

Twenty minutes and much laughter later, you finish: '...and that's why you should never trust Google Translate to help you apologize to Italian law enforcement.'

She's wiping tears from her eyes. 'The part with the cat—'

'Hand to god. Still have the scars.'

'Okay.' She catches her breath. 'Okay, you win. That was worth it.'

'Time to pay up. Green hair. Spill.'

'Can I have one more drink first?'

'For courage?'

'So I can blame it on the drink.' She waves at the bartender. 'I still can't believe you showed those nuns your interview notes to prove you weren't a street performer.'

'Desperate times.'

'Speaking of desperate...' She takes a fortifying sip of her fresh spritz. 'Ever tried to fix green hair with grape juice?'

'No.'

'Don't.'

'There has to be more to this story than grape juice.'

'Oh, there's so much more.' She settles into her seat. 'Picture this: it's two hours before a live broadcast. I'm sitting in the makeup chair, feeling pretty good about life. You know, like that particular moment where your face just… shines. Then my stylist walks in, takes one look at my hair, and just... screams.'

'Screams?'

'Full horror movie scream. Turns out the hair dye we used was... let's say "not exactly approved by management."'

'Let me guess. DIY job?'

'Worse. My sister's friend's cousin who "totally went to beauty school."'

'Oh no.' You snort, taking a hefty drink of the remaining spritz.

'Oh yes. So there I am, one side of my head this bizarre shade of swamp-thing green, and everyone's running around like it's the end of the world.'

'Which is when someone suggested grape juice?'

'Actually, that was my idea.' She grimaces. 'I'd read somewhere that grape juice could neutralize green tones. What they failed to mention was that this works for swimming pools, not hair.' [1]

'So what happened?'

'Picture a very expensive wig, three cans of dry shampoo, and me trying to explain to the camera director why I couldn't turn my head to the left.'

'Did it work?'

'Define "work."' She takes another sip. 'If by "work" you mean "did I make it through the broadcast without anyone seeing the grape-juice-tinged disaster," then yes. If by "work" you mean "did I maintain any dignity," then absolutely not.'

'The fans never found out?'

'Oh, they did. Someone leaked a backstage photo three months later.' She grins. 'By then I'd managed to fix it. Mostly.'

'Mostly?'

'My sister still has a strand of green hair she saved. Threatens to post it whenever I don't answer her calls.'

'Effective.'

'Terrifying.' She raises her glass. 'Your turn again. What's the worst interview you've ever done?'

'Besides this one?'

She kicks your chair. 'I'm delightful and you know it.'

'You're something, all right.'

Three drinks in, and the bar's emptied enough that her laugh echoes a little too loudly. She covers her mouth, but it's too late – the old bartender shoots them an amused look.

'Sorry,' she stage-whispers.

'For what? The laugh or the fact that it just shattered three ancient Roman wine glasses?'

'Shut up.' She kicks your chair again. 'I don't always laugh like that.'

'Let me guess – there's a public laugh and a private laugh?'

'There's a whole taxonomy.' She sits up straighter, counting on her fingers. 'Interview laugh, variety show laugh, fan meeting laugh, oh-that's-not-actually-funny-but-you're-my-sunbae laugh—'

'Please tell me you're joking.'

'I wish.' She slumps forward, head on her arms. 'I once had to attend a laughing seminar.'

'A what now?'

'A laughing seminar. Professional instruction on the art of the public giggle.' Her voice is muffled against her sleeve. 'There was a PowerPoint and everything.'

'You're making this up.'

She lifts her head. 'I spent three hours learning about laugh-adjacent breathing techniques while a woman named Mrs. Kim hit a triangle every time someone laughed "inappropriately."'

You stare at her. She stares back.

'That's the most horrifying thing I've ever heard,' you say finally.

'I know.' She dissolves into another too-loud laugh, this one definitely not seminar-approved. 'God, I can still hear that triangle.'

'Is that why you're here?'

'Getting drunk with a biographer in Rome? No, that's just poor life choices.'

'Speaking honest truths to a stranger?'

'Oh.' She straightens up, but there's still something loose in her smile. 'Maybe. Or maybe I just really needed to tell someone about Mrs. Kim and her triangle of terror.'

'Triangle of terror.' You shake your head. 'That's going in the book.'

'Along with the blue tongue and green hair? You're really painting a picture here.'

'It's called character development.'

'It's called character assassination.' She signals for water. 'What else are you putting in there?'

'Wouldn't you like to know.'

'Actually, yes. That's literally why I'm asking.'

'Fine.' You pretend to flip through your mental notes. 'Chapter One: Sharks and Empathy—'

'Oh my god.'

'Chapter Two: The Grape Juice Incident—'

'I'm starting to regret everything.'

'Chapter Three: Laugh Taxonomies by Aespa’s Karina—'

'I hate you.'

'Chapter Four: Why Romans Don't Trust Her With Fountains Anymore—'

'That was you! That was literally your story!'

'Was it? Everything's getting a bit fuzzy.' You tap your temple. 'Must be all that professional memory I was bragging about earlier.'

She throws an olive at you. The bartender clears his throat.

'Sorry,' you both say in unison, then look at each other and start laughing again.

'You know what's really funny?' she says, once you've both contained yourselves.

'Mrs. Kim's triangle?'

'Besides that.' She accepts the water from the bartender. 'This is probably the worst interview you've ever done.'

'Oh, definitely.'

'And yet...'

'And yet?'

'It's the most honest one I've given.' She pauses. 'God, that sounded way less cheesy in my head. Must be the spritz talking.'

'Blame it on the altitude.'

'We're at sea level.'

'Blame it on the sea level.'

'You're ridiculous.' She's grinning though. 'Is this how all your interviews go?'

'Usually there's less gelato. More gravitas.'

'Gravitas is overrated.'

'Says the woman who attended a laughing seminar.'

'Hey, I'll have you know my triangle-approved giggle is very dignified.'

'Prove it.'

She sits up straighter, arranges her features into something serene, and lets out the most artificial laugh you've ever heard. It's so pristine it's almost disturbing.

'That was horrifying.'

'That was three hours of professional training.'

'I'm concerned about your profession.'

'Join the club.' She relaxes back into her natural posture. 'We have meetings every Tuesday. Bring your own triangle.'

The bartender slides over the check with a knowing look. Last call came and went without either of you noticing.

'Well,' you say, reaching for your wallet. 'I suppose this is—'

'Wait.' She puts her hand on your arm. 'I have a confession.'

'Another one? The green hair wasn't enough?'

'I read your book.'

'Which one?'

'The one about the ballet dancer who quit to become a motorcycle mechanic.'

'Ah.' You sit back. 'And?'

'And I maybe, possibly, completely changed my mind about this whole interview when I read it.'

'Because?'

'Because...' She fidgets with her empty glass. 'You made her sound so... human.'

'As opposed to?'

'A story. A headline.' She traces a pattern on the bar top. 'Most people would've written about the scandal, the career she "threw away." But you wrote about how she names each motorcycle she fixes. How she still dances in her garage at midnight.'

'Ah. That.'

'That.' She looks up. 'Is that why you haven't asked me about any of it?'

'Any of what?'

'Don't play dumb. The headlines. The speculation. The—'

'The triangle-approved responses you've probably rehearsed?'

She laughs, caught. 'Something like that.'

'Here's the thing about headlines.' You start gathering your things. 'They're usually more interesting than the truth.'

'And what's the truth?'

'That sometimes people just want to eat blue gelato and tell embarrassing stories in a bar and talk a biographer’s ears off.'

She kicks your chair again, barely noticeable. 'Even if those stories end up in a book?'

'Especially then.' You stand, offering her jacket. 'Though I might need you to sign a waiver about the grape juice incident.'

'I knew it! You are using it!'

'Chapter title: "The Perils of Amateur Chemistry: A Cautionary Tale."'

She shrugs on her jacket, shaking her head. 'You're impossible. That AI flair was so intentional'

'Says the woman who legitimately attended a laughing seminar.'

'I'm never living that down, am I?'

'Not as long as I have a functioning memory and a publishing contract.'

The Roman night is warm as you both step out of the bar. She stumbles slightly on the cobblestones.

You offer a hand which she quickly grabs.

'Don't you dare put that in the book,' she warns.

'Put what? The graceful interpretation of contemporary dance you just performed?'

'These streets are rigged.' She steadies herself. 'Also, your hotel's this way.'

'How do you know where my hotel is?' You’re not exactly one to remember locations, probably the reason you were able to gain such a repository of ridiculous stories.

'Because it's my hotel.' She grins at your expression. 'What? You think you're the only one who does research?'

'I'm concerned about your stalking tendencies.'

'Says the person who somehow knew about the Busan incident.'

'Professional hazard.'

'You really need new catchphrases.'

The walk is quiet, comfortable. Rome at night feels like a different city—all golden lights and shadow play. A cat watches you pass from its perch on a window sill.

'Don't even think about it,' she says.

'About what?'

'Making some poetic comparison between me and that cat.'

'Please. I'm a much better writer than that.'

'Sure you are, shark whisperer.'

You reach the hotel entrance. She pauses.

'Well,' she says. 'This has been...'

'Professionally catastrophic?'

'I was going to say enlightening.'

'That too.'

The hotel lobby is all marble and soft lighting. Your footsteps echo slightly.

'I have a balcony,' she says suddenly. 'And a really pretentious coffee machine I can't figure out.'

'Is this a cry for help with appliances?'

'This is...' She fidgets with her room key. 'This is me not wanting the interview to end yet.'

'The interview ended somewhere between blue gelato and the triangle story.'

'Then what's this?'

‘Believe or not, some people just like having fun on their Italian vacation.’

‘Haha. Very funny.’

'This is...' You pretend to consider. 'Two people who might be friends if one of them wasn't writing a book about the other.'

'Complicated.'

'Professional hazard.'

'There's that phrase again.' She presses the elevator button. 'Come on. I'll teach you how to laugh properly.'

'With or without the triangle?'

She steps into the elevator. 'Depends on how good you are at making coffee.'

'Now who's the impossible one?'

The doors start to close. She holds them.

'Coming?'

You join her in the elevator. 'For the record, I'm excellent at coffee.'

'For the record,' she mimics your tone, 'that's going in the book.'

Her room is on the top floor, with a view that makes you understand why people write poetry about Rome.

'So,' she says, fighting with the coffee machine. 'This button makes it angry, and this one makes it hiss.'

'Move over, amateur.' You reach around her to press a combination of buttons. The machine purrs to life.

'Show off.' But she's smiling as she heads for the balcony. 'Bring your coffee wizardry out here when it's ready.'

The balcony is small, just enough room for two chairs and all of Rome spread out below. She's curled up in one chair, shoes off, looking more real than she has all day.

'Your professional opinion,' she says as you hand her a cup. 'Is this going to be a good book?'

'Depends.'

'On?'

'On whether you let me keep the shark metaphors.'

She laughs into her coffee. 'You're never letting that go.'

'Never.' You take the other chair. 'Though I might be willing to negotiate.'

'Terms?'

'Tell me something nobody knows. Something that won't make the book.'

She's quiet for a moment, looking out at the city lights. 'I sing in the shower.'

'Everybody knows that.'

'No, I mean...' She turns to face you. 'I sing the old songs. The ones I used to practice when I was just some kid in Bundang with a dream too big for my voice.'

'And?'

'And sometimes I still feel like her. That kid. Especially at night, in foreign hotels, when the city feels like it belongs to someone else.'

'Especially at night, in foreign hotels, when the city feels like it belongs to someone else.'

'Wow.' You let out a low whistle. 'That was incredibly profound.'

She groans, covering her face. 'I know. I'm sorry. That was straight out of a drama script.'

'I was thinking more indie movie. You know, the kind where people have deep conversations on balconies in Rome at—' you check your watch, '—one in the morning.'

'Oh god, we're living a cliché.'

'Complete with coffee and two chairs overlooking Rome.'

'Quick,' she straightens up, 'say something unprofound. Save us from ourselves.'

'My tongue is still kind of blue.'

She peeks at you over her coffee cup. 'Mine too.'

'Better?'

'Much better.' She slouches back in her chair. 'Though now I'm thinking about how this would look in your book. "Two idiots with blue tongues have existential crisis on expensive balcony."'

'Don't forget the part where one of them somehow charmed a coffee machine.'

'And the other one used to sing in her shower.'

'Still,' you correct. 'Present tense.'

'Still,' she admits. 'But if you put that in your book, I'll have to tell everyone about your fountain incident.'

'Mutually assured destruction. I like it.'

She yawns, then looks embarrassed. 'Sorry. It's not the company, it's—'

'The five Aperol Spritzes?'

'That. And the emotional toll of remembering Mrs. Kim's triangle.'

'Tragic backstory,' you nod solemnly. 'Very character-building.'

'Speaking of character-building...' She sets down her empty cup, turns to face you fully. 'This is usually the part in your books where something significant happens.'

'Is it?'

'Mm. Chapter twelve. Always a turning point.'

'You really did read my books.'

'I told you that already.' She's closer now, somehow. 'What I didn't mention was that I figured out your pattern.'

'My pattern?'

'The way you write moments like this.' Her voice is soft. 'When everything gets quiet, and the city's just background noise, and someone's about to do something...'

'Inadvisable?'

'I was going to say brave.'

'Brave is just inadvisable with better PR.'

She laughs, barely a whisper. 'You're deflecting again.'

'Professional—'

'If you say "hazard" right now,' she cuts in, 'I'm going to throw you off this balcony.'

'That would be...'

'Inadvisable?'

'I was going to say "terrible for my book sales."'

She's definitely closer now. 'Your book sales are about to be the least of your problems.'

'Because you're going to kiss me or throw me off the balcony?'

'I haven't decided yet.'

'Well,' you murmur, 'for what it's worth, one of those options would make a much better chapter twelve.'

She closes the distance between you, smiling against your lips. 'Professional hazard.'

You and Karina shared an instant spark that neither of you had experienced. Ever. The moment that first tease left your mouth, it was over.

—

[1] The sentiment of grape juice being able to eliminate green tones turned out to be completely unfounded. Despite this, wine sommeliers around the world have complained about Koreans with their distinct accent asking about grape juice’s ability to change colors.

—

The kiss tastes like coffee and Aperol and something sweet—probably the remnants of that ridiculous blue gelato. It's soft and quiet and perfect, the kind of moment that would sound made up in a book.

She pulls back slightly. 'Your editor's going to hate this.'

'Definitely.' You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. 'Completely unprofessional.'

'Thoroughly inadvisable.'

'Absolutely perfect for chapter twelve.'

She kisses you again, and Rome keeps existing below, indifferent to your small moment of magic. Somewhere in the distance, a church bell chimes twice.

'You know,' she whispers, 'this is usually where you'd write something profound about the city of love.'

'That's Paris.'

'Now who's deflecting?'

'Still you. But I'm starting not to mind.'

She laughs, soft and real—definitely not triangle-approved—and rests her forehead against yours, your breaths intermixing, plenty of intimate eye contact. 'Is this going in the book?'

'What do you think?'

'I think...' Her fingers find yours. 'I think some stories we get to keep for ourselves.'

'I think some stories we get to keep for ourselves.'

'Even after I charmed your coffee machine? That's cold.'

She makes a face. 'You're really bringing up coffee machine prowess right after—'

'Right after you thoroughly compromised my journalistic integrity? Yes.'

'Your journalistic integrity was compromised the moment you let me eat blue gelato.'

'My journalistic integrity was compromised the moment I saw you.' You run your thumb across her knuckles.

Her eye contact wavers and her voice falters, ‘Gosh, you’re such a player.’

‘Flirting has never come so easily before.’ You whisper against her mouth.

'Oh really?'

'Obviously.'

'Which was?'

'Stare at that blue tongue some more.’'

She shoves you lightly. 'You're terrible.'

'And yet.'

'And yet.' She settles on your lap, the forehead to forehead more natural now. 'So what happens now?'

'Well, traditionally, this is where I'd write something about dawn breaking over the eternal city—'

'Please don't.'

'—with golden light catching on ancient stones—'

'I'm begging you to stop.'

'—as two souls find each other under the Roman sky—'

She claps a hand over your mouth. 'I will literally pay you to not finish that sentence.'

You kiss her palm before she pulls it away. 'Isn't that technically bribery?'

'Add it to the list. Right after "compromised journalistic integrity" and "suspicious coffee machine expertise."'

'Speaking of compromising situations...' You glance at your watch. 'It's almost three AM.'

'Worried about your reputation?'

'Worried about your triangle-approved schedule.'

'Bold of you to assume I ever sleep.' She stands, stretching. 'Want to order terrible room service and you can tell me about all the other journalists you've scandalized?'

'That's a very short list. Very enticing regardless.’

'Good.' She holds out her hand.

The night air has turned cooler, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from somewhere below. Her fingers trace the collar of your shirt, hesitant but deliberate.

'What happened to room service?' you murmur.

'It can wait.' Her eyes meet yours, playful but wanting. 'I'm conducting my own interview first.'

This kiss is different from the first. Slower, more certain. The city hums below, a distant lullaby of late-night cars and echoing footsteps. When she sighs into the kiss, it's the softest sound you've ever heard. When she falters against your forceful touches, it’s the softest you’ve ever felt a woman.

She pulls back just enough to breathe, her forehead resting against yours. Her heartbeat is quick under your palm.

'Better than chapter twelve?' she whispers.

You catch her lips again in answer, feeling her smile. The wind stirs her hair, sending strands brushing against your cheek. Everything smells like jasmine and coffee and her perfume—something subtle and expensive that you'll probably spend the rest of your life over-romanticizing.

Because that’s what Karina deserves.

Rome stretches out endless and ancient around you, but all you can focus on is how perfectly she fits against you, how real she feels away from cameras and crowds.

Your lips find hers in the dark, soft and certain now. Her fingers trail up your neck, threading through your hair, pulling you closer. There's an art to the way she kisses—deliberate yet desperate, like she's trying to memorize the moment. Your hands settle at her waist, and she makes a small sound that you know you'll remember forever.

Her lips part against yours, deepening the kiss until you're both breathless. The balcony railing presses into your back—when did that happen?—and her body is warm against yours, fitting perfectly in all the spaces between.

Her teeth graze your bottom lip, teasing. You respond by trailing kisses along her jaw, feeling her pulse jump under your lips. When you find that sensitive spot just below her ear, her sharp intake of breath makes you smile against her skin.

She pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. Her lips are slightly swollen, her careful composure beautifully undone––hair spread everywhere, but just so that she looks ethereal rather than messy. You brush your thumb across her lower lip, and she catches it with her teeth, playful even now.

‘Still planning to put this in chapter twelve?’ she whispers, breathless.

Your answer gets lost somewhere between her lips and… her lips.

Her laugh vibrates against your lips when you finally break apart. ‘We should probably—’

‘Go inside?’ Your lips find the curve of her neck again.

‘I was going to say breathe.’ But her head tilts back, giving you better access. Her pulse flutters under your kiss like a trapped bird. ‘Though inside works too.’

You pull back just enough to look at her. Hair mussed, eyes bright, that perfect composure completely undone. She's never looked more beautiful than she does right now, with the city lights catching in her eyes and her professional smile nowhere to be found.

‘What?’ she asks, suddenly self-conscious.

‘Just thinking.’

‘About?’

‘How this definitely isn't going in the book.’

Her smile turns mischievous. ‘No?’ Her fingers trace patterns on your chest. ‘Not even a little mention of how you completely forgot about journalistic integrity the moment I—’

‘Then chapter 12 would entirely consist of me betraying my profession in order to catch your lips with my teeth.’

‘Wow. You’re bad. Like, real bad.’

‘You have no idea.’

You cut her off with another kiss, swallowing her laugh. Her hands slide up your chest, around your neck, pulling you impossibly closer. The world narrows to just this: her lips on yours, her body pressed against you, the soft sounds she makes when you run your fingers down her spine.

‘Inside,’ she murmurs against your mouth. ‘Before we really give Rome something to talk about.’

You let her lead you through the balcony doors, both of you stumbling slightly, unwilling to break contact. She tastes like promises now, like stories yet to be written. Her hands are everywhere—your hair, your chest, your face – like she's trying to read you by touch alone.

‘Wait,’ you manage, as her lips find that spot below your ear that makes thinking difficult. ‘What about—’

‘If you mention room service right now,’ she warns, ‘I'm going back to my original plan of throwing you off the balcony.’

‘I was going to say 'what about your triangle-approved image?'’

She pulls back, eyes dancing. ‘Oh, that?’ Her lips brush yours, teasing. ‘I think we thoroughly compromised that at the first meeting.’

"Professional hazard?"

"Shut up," she whispers, and kisses you again.

She sighs into your mouth, a soft, vulnerable sound that makes your heart stutter.

Her fingers tangle in your hair, nails scraping lightly against your scalp, sending shivers down your spine. You walk her backward until she's pressed against the wall, her body arching into yours.

You trail kisses down her neck, learning her— the spot beneath her jaw that makes her gasp, the curve where neck meets shoulder that makes her fingers tighten in your hair. Her pulse races under your lips, a rapid drumbeat that matches your own. When you find a particularly sensitive spot, her sharp intake of breath is the sweetest sound you've ever heard.

She tugs you back up to her mouth, kissing you like she's trying to tell you something words can't capture. Her lips are soft but insistent, moving against yours with a rhythm that makes you dizzy. One of her legs hooks around yours, pulling you even closer, and you groan into her mouth.

Her hands frame your face now, thumbs stroking your cheeks as she kisses you deeper, slower, like she's trying to memorize every second. You respond in kind, pouring everything you can't say into the kiss—how beautiful she is like this, how real, how perfectly she fits against you.

When you finally break apart, you're both breathing hard. Her lips are swollen. You rest your forehead against hers, sharing the same air, neither of you willing to move away.

"Still thinking about the book?" she murmurs, voice husky.

You answer by catching her lower lip between your teeth, gentle but playful, and feel her smile against your mouth.

Her smile against your mouth turns into a soft laugh. "I'll take that as a no."

‘Take it as whatever you want.’ Your lips find her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. ‘I stopped thinking about the book long ago.’

She hums contentedly, her fingers tracing patterns on the nape of your neck. ‘Good.’ Her other hand is still tangled in your shirt, keeping you close. ‘Because I have a confession.’

‘Another one?’

Instead of answering, she kisses you again, slow and deep. Her tongue traces your lower lip, and you respond by pressing her further into the wall, swallowing the small sound she makes. One of her legs is still hooked around yours, and when she shifts slightly, the new angle makes you both gasp.

‘That wasn't a confession,’ you murmur against her lips.

‘No?’ Her teeth graze your earlobe. ‘I thought I was being pretty clear.’

Your hands slide to her waist, steadying her. She's intoxicating like this, all careful control abandoned, her public persona nowhere to be found.

‘Jimin,’ you breathe, and feel her shiver at the sound of her real name.

Her response is to pull you closer, kissing you like she's trying to say everything without words. Her lips are soft but certain against yours, and you lose yourself in the feeling—the warmth of her body, the subtle scent of her perfume.

The city continues its nighttime symphony outside, but in here, the only sound is your shared breathing and the soft, desperate noises she makes when you find that sensitive spot on her neck again.

She pulls back slightly, just enough to meet your eyes. In the dim light, her gaze is soft, unguarded. Her thumb traces your lower lip.

‘What?’ you ask, voice rough.

‘I'm trying to decide something.’

"Whether to throw me off the balcony? Because I thought we moved past—"

She cuts you off with another kiss. Her hands cup your face, holding you there as she explores your mouth with a thoroughness that makes you dizzy. You respond by feeling her firm and perky ass.

‘No—,’ she moans when you break apart for air. ‘I'm trying to decide if this is real.’

Instead of answering, you trail kisses down her neck, feeling her pulse jump under your lips. Her head falls back against the wall, giving you better access. When you reach her collarbone, she makes a sound that's half-sigh, half-moan.

‘Feels real enough,’ you murmur against her skin.

Her laugh is breathy, unsteady. ‘I meant—’ She gasps as you find a particularly sensitive spot. ‘I meant this. Us. This whole night.’

You lift your head to look at her. Her lips are swollen from kissing, her carefully styled hair a mess from your fingers. She's never looked more beautiful.

‘If you think I did all of this for the fun of it, you’re clearly missing something.’

‘A gear in the head?’

‘Definitely—’

‘Gosh, how do I allow this sort of petulance?’

‘Because it’s me.’

‘You’re a player.’

‘Only for you.’ You catch her lips, even more wanting—and she forfeits it all.

You pick her up, mussing up her perfect outfit, mussing up her perfect lips. And you finally throw her against the bed.

‘You’re really roughing up Prada’s global ambassador.’

‘And ambassador to a dozen other brands worth billions—couldn’t care less.’’

She smirks, and her arms open, waiting, pliant, obedient.

You rip off your buttoned shirt, tear off your pants; now, there’s truly no way of going back.

‘Wow. That scar is a lot larger than I imagined.’ She’s referring back to the scar that you received during that drunk haze of a night.

‘It was dark. Might’ve even been a lion.’

‘Mm. Heroic. Come here.’

Now, who could ever resist that?

You rip off her clothes, each layer even more decadent than the other. And then, she was there. bra barely containing her breasts, and a layer of dampness along her sexy panties.

‘That was expensive, by the way.’

‘I’ve got a payment plan on course.’

‘Mm. Enlighten me.’

You pull her panties to the side.

She’s dripping wet, nectar spooling right on her pink core. A glorious sheen that makes you stare far longer than you should’ve. She’s red-faced at this point, and her forearms cover most of her sight, and yet, she doesn’t move, doesn’t retreat.

The first lick you place, just a brush against her engorged clit, crumbles every self-regulated triangle-approved behavior she has. Two pants turn fifty, one lick crumbles everything. Her hips coax you in ways gymnasts can’t even replicate, and of course, you oblige.

Soft licks, teases around her outer lips, swollen from all the anticipation and arousal; tonguing at her inner lips, just at the crux of her clit, gets her screaming in ways her deep voice would never register; and above all, she’s orgasming, squirting, losing every pretense in favor of her built up lust.

‘Oh~fuck—’

Her fingers find purchase in your hair, and she softly pulls you in—rides your face like it was all that she ever desired: her eternal wish.

‘Ohmygod! Imcumming!’ Her voice turns mousy, and her pupils go back in pure pleasure, coupled with hip movements thought impossible: this was the greatest pleasure of her life.

You grab her chin, squeeze softly, her cheeks molding to your grasp, and you press a soft kiss right on her kiss-bruised lips. You let her taste herself on your tongue.

‘Good. Right?’

And she nods. A complete personality switch from the playfulness she displayed earlier. Delicate.

Her hands land on your boxers as she melted into your kiss. Once you felt her palm your cock, you groaned right in her ear. She starts softly, stroking. But her strokes grow more all-encompassing as you press harder into the kiss.

‘Fuck. You’re so good for me.’

She mewls back, on the gradient slide of unadulterated pleasure.

Softly, you release your shaft from the boxer. And you press your cock right on her core. Feeling the wet heat, the sticky nectar that pooled to a mindbreaking degree.

‘It goes without saying.’

‘That I’m head over heels for you?’

You grin, ‘Well, that too, but you’re hopeless.’

‘Maybe if we weren’t so compatible.’

You grab a breast, palming it, ‘Well that, that too, goes without saying.’

She smiles, so warmly, every trace of everything else melted off her face––the sort of smile you’d never forget, and the sort of smile you’d want to wake up to… forever.

Finally, you press into her, and her wet heat envelops you, enough to make you groan, enough to make her moan like there’s no greater pleasure––because really, there’s nothing else.

Her pussy clings onto you, a wet suction that is immeasurably soft and yet, a vacuum-seal-like tightness that gets you groaning after every thrust.

Her arms cling to you, and her eyebrows knit, her small face full of emotion—all of it processing how good you fuck her.

‘Oh god. Would it be bad that I want you to declare to the world that you own me?”

‘Chapter 12—’

She cuts you off, ‘Something along the lines of: “Chapter 12: Karina is my fuckslut”’

‘I don’t tolerate Karina disrespect.’ You say, truthfully.

‘Even if it’s by myself?’

‘Especially for that case, sweetheart.’

‘Oh… you’re too good.’

‘You’re blind.’

Most popular idol in the world, and… she’s hopelessly down bad for you.

‘If I’m blind. Then you don’t have eyes—complete darkness.’

‘We’re two of the same.’

‘I’m your biggest fan.’

‘We’re two of the same.’

‘I love you.’

‘You have a way with words, Karina.’ You reply, pressing soft kisses along her jaw, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, thrusting into her harder, sharing breaths.

‘You’ve inspired me.’

And you lock lips with her, the thrusts were becoming a blur, and her moans music to your ears—it was all just… heaven.

There was no technique. Nothing too purposeful. It was all just pure affection, pure love guiding all your actions. And the fact that she’s cumming again was no coincidence.

‘Oh. My. Fucking. God!’ Her head goes back deep into the pillow and you follow suit. Pressing soft kisses that covered every square centimeter of her beauty, kisses that made her giggle even in her most orgasmic moment of her life.

‘If I knew anything that felt like this… I’d be doing it constantly.’

‘Well—’

‘That’s right,’ Karina gives a soft peck, ‘I have you now.’

You could feel her heartbeat, her skin precipitate, and her cunt pulse—it’s just heaven at this point.

‘Are you trying to convince me to follow you?’

‘2 years, finest in New York.’

‘Deal. Though you overbid a little.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Means anything you want, dear.’

The soft slick of her cunt made it nearly frictionless, just pure pleasure for both parties. Her hips gave way every time, an identity of its own, retreating when you thrust too hard, giving in when softer.’

‘Is this like a sugar mommy situation?’

‘Two words I never expected you to say.’ You both share a laugh.

‘I mean that’s what it is right?’

‘A power imbalance? Please. I can get you to buy a New York penthouse for me at this point.’

‘Well. You’re right. But—’

You bring your cock to the hilt inside of her, whilst stealing her lips for a deep kiss. She moans and mewls and gasps—music to your ears. You change positions. You bring her legs to your shoulders, and you begin kissing along her ankle while thrusting inside of her.

This time, you can see the full view. How her breasts bounce against the thrusts, how her slick has completely covered your entire length at this point, and how beautifully her face is framed between it all.

Her mouth’s agape, moaning, giggling intermittently with the jokes shared through eye contact. You bite softly at her ankle then down her legs, to her calves, then releasing her legs altogether to kiss her again.

She fits perfectly against you, small and delicate but the perfect puzzle piece under you. She’s absorbent, aware of your needs, placing soft kisses along the ridges of your eyebrows, rubbing away the day’s fatigue along your jaw and temple.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

‘I didn’t hear.’

You press against her, feeling her breasts spool against your chest, bring your thrust to the hilt, the wetness of her loins pressed against yours, all of them vividly apparent. ‘I love your beauty. I love your humor. I love how clever you are. I love how authentic you are. And I could continue on and on but I’m about to cum.’

Karina sniffled, ‘God, I was about to cry and then you say that.’ She softly smacks your shoulder, ‘just cum inside me and let’s cuddle.’

You oblige, the thrusts turn into a haze of pure pleasure, a desperate moment chasing the local maxima, and finally, you burst inside of her. Cum spooled, all inside her, and she moans so gracefully, staring at you with all the affection in the world.

‘We can worry about this tomorrow.’ She palmed your jaw.

‘Of course.’ You fall onto her, cuddling her.

Both of you are a mess, gross, bodily fluids spread everywhere, and yet, the both of you fell into a deep slumber.

A/N: I'd like to apologize for switching up styles so much (But if you enjoyed this dialogue-heavy work, then lmk!)

#smut #kpop smut #fanfic #male reader #kpop #aespa #aespa smut #karina smut #aespa karina

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helioooss · 19 days ago

Text

v. i want you to need me

synopsis: after a rare drunken night, y/n wakes up in bed next to the most untouchable girl at yonsei: karina. she’s immediately thrown into a mess she never wanted, torn between her own moral compass and the undeniable pull of something she doesn’t understand. some lines, once crossed, can never be undone.

w/c: 10k+

warnings: heavy cheating, implied sex, alcohol, smoking, just normal uni stuff, swearingggg, slow burn

a/n: tell me what you all think about sana

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

jimin’s dorm isn’t like yours.

it’s not like anyone’s, really. it’s more an apartment than a student room — tall ceilings, white walls that haven’t yellowed, windows that stretch too wide for the building they’re in. there’s a couch that looks barely sat on and the scent that clings to the place smells like white musk and the soft kind of vanilla that only comes from a candle someone forgot to blow out.

this space is curated and soft in a way you haven’t seen much of lately.

you try not to think about how out of place you feel; how this isn’t like your lounge, where the cushions don’t match and there’s always an empty mug on the floor. how ryujin would be throwing popcorn at your head by now and yunjin would be complaining about the spotify ads.

here, you’re a guest.

you’re sitting on the floor beside her bed, knees drawn up, heart doing something inconvenient in your chest. minjeong and ningning are sprawled across jimin’s mattress like it belongs to them, shoes kicked off, snacks half-finished between them. a half-open bag of maltesers is wedged against minjeong’s thigh and she’s chewing on the last one with the smugness of someone who knows exactly what she’s doing.

“so,” she begins, voice bright. “what time’s the wedding?”

ningning throws her head back. “god, finally. i was starting to think this was just a fucked up situationship.”

your hands are tucked between your knees and the carpet, grounding yourself. it doesn’t help because the carpet is too clean and too soft and there’s nothing to hold onto.

“it’s not like that,” you mumble.

“please,” minjeong chuckles, shaking her head. “you’ve been looking at her like she’s the sun. or, like, the moon if you’re feeling broody.”

“she always looks broody,” ningning adds.

“true.”

jimin’s leaning against the side of her desk, arms crossed, eyes on you — amused, but not unkind. there’s a gentleness in the way she watches this unfold, like she’s letting them tease because she knows they don’t know the full story.

because they haven’t seen you unravel in the dark of your own room, they haven’t had to hold the silence when the weight of this thing made you too quiet to touch.

“leave her alone,” she defends eventually, and it’s playful, but it’s also hers. the way she says it makes them both settle.

minjeong shrugs, steals another m&m. ningning flops back into the pillow and scrolls through her phone like she didn’t just try to marry you off.

you glance up at jimin, just for a second. her mouth lifts on one side, but her eyes stay serious. she can read you too easily these days, probably always could.

your chest tightens.

this version of her…standing in her own space, defending you lightly, smiling like it’s normal, has made it harder to breathe. it makes you wish the guilt didn’t sit so high in your throat.

it’s worse when it’s good and it feels easy, like maybe it could’ve been this simple all along. you look away as your fingers tighten around the hem of your sleeve.

she walks over a second later and kneels in front of you. her hands land gently on your knees, thumbs brushing small circles into the fabric of your jeans.

you glance at the door, but it’s pointless. minjeong and ningning aren’t paying attention now, lost in whatever they’re laughing at on someone’s story.

“hey,” she says softly. “you okay?”

you nod, but it’s not convincing.

she tilts her head; waits.

you speak without looking at her. “i don’t know how to do this.”

she brushes her fingers along your knuckles. “just be you.”

that doesn’t help…being you is the problem.

being you means carrying everything you’ve been too afraid to say and it’s deeper than that — there’s a pit in your stomach that’s been growing since she asked you to come.

because this is the closest you’ll ever be to being part of her real life. and even then, it’s only half of one.

pressing your palms against your thighs, you try to breathe to slow your thoughts down long enough to match the pace of her touch.

“they’ll like you,” she comforts you in the softest voice. “they will.”

“they think you’re dating jaewook.”

jimin doesn’t say anything for a second. then, gentler: “not for much longer.”

you want to believe her….you really do.

minjeong coughs something that sounds like kiss her already and ningning groans dramatically.

she leans in to kiss you.

she tastes like mint and whatever tea she was drinking before you arrived. she doesn’t rush it. just holds your face like you’re something she’s still learning how to be gentle with.

you don’t realise your eyes are closed until she pulls back.

when you open them, minjeong’s holding up a pretend veil with one of jimin’s t-shirts, and ningning’s got her phone out like she’s documenting the whole thing.

“congrats on the engagement,” ningning smiles.

“don’t forget to invite us to the divorce.”

you roll your eyes, but your throat is tight. your laugh doesn’t land quite right.

jimin squeezes your hand but you’re not ready.

she stands first, offers you her hand.

you take it and follow her out, the door clicking shut behind you, too quiet for how loud your heart’s beating. she mumbles something like ‘get out of my room’ to the girls and all they do is laugh.

there’s a black rolls royce already pulling up to the curb when you step out; your throat closes. it glides to a stop so silently it feels rehearsed — as if the car has been choreographed to arrive exactly here, now, like a scene out of a film you’re not supposed to be in.

your first thought is that it’s blocking traffic. your second is: oh. it’s for us.

the driver steps out, immaculate in a pressed grey uniform. he rounds the car slowly, opens the door like he’s done this for a hundred different people, none of whom have ever had to stop themselves from visibly flinching.

jimin, of course, doesn’t react.

she simply squeezes your hand and murmurs, “one of dad’s cars.”

and that should be funny. and casual. but it lands like a stone in your chest.

the leather seats are too soft, even. you sit stiffly, unsure of what to do with your legs. she settles beside you, reaching for your hand again as if it’s second nature.

perhaps it is for her. maybe pretending she’s always allowed to touch you comes easier than the truth. you feel the car begin to move, the world outside drifting quietly by.

for a moment, it’s quiet between you.

then, because you can’t not ask, your voice slips in, barely above the low hum of the road: “what did you tell them?”

she blinks, turns to look at you, her expression unreadable. “my parents?”

you nod. “yeah.”

she exhales, presses her thumb into your knuckles. “i told them you’re a friend. someone i met recently. someone…special in my life.”

you look down at her hand in yours.

not girlfriend. not partner. and definitely not the girl i love. just special.

you breathe in through your nose. “what about jaewook?”

there’s a pause; you can almost hear the low thrum of traffic through the double-glazed windows. her fingers tighten slightly.

“don’t bring him up tonight,” she answers in a pleading tone.

you glance at her, but she’s already turned away, staring out the window. not cold, something like distant.

your chest aches with something you can’t name. it’s a deep, slow burn — like you’re being hollowed out in pieces.

she clears her throat softly. “what are your plans for the break?”

the change in topic is obvious, but you let it happen.

“working,” you answer. “studying.”

she hums. “you should come away with me.”

you blink. “what?”

“just for a few days. somewhere quiet,” she turns back to you, her eyes softer now. “we could get out of the city. clear our heads.”

you hesitate because you don’t know what that would mean. what you’d be. what she’d allow herself to be.

“depends,” you finally reply.

she smiles; the type that wants to believe everything can still be okay.

but you’re already slipping away, just slightly. you look back out the window and try to anchor yourself to the ordinary; the passing buildings, the hum of the tyres, the slight vibration beneath your seat.

however, your thoughts scream louder than anything else.

what does it mean to be brought into someone’s life only half-visible?

you imagine jimin’s parents: their polished smiles, the weight of expectations wrapped in polite sentences. you wonder if they’ve spoken about wedding dates in whispers over breakfast. if they’ve imagined a son-in-law who never had to be introduced as just special.

the car turns and up ahead, a set of iron gates rise between two massive stone columns, ivy curling up their sides. as it approaches, the gates begin to open automatically, swinging wide with a soft mechanical groan that somehow sounds expensive.

your stomach flips.

you don’t belong here.

the driveway curves gently through a stretch of manicured lawn — no dead patches, no overgrown hedges, just careful perfection. there’s a fountain in the middle of the roundabout, water cascading in tiers. lights glow along the edges of the path. the kind of estate you’ve only ever seen in magazines.

and then the mansion comes into view.

it’s tall and pale and sprawling, all stone columns and symmetrical windows. a place built by people who’ve never worried about bills or bus routes, where voices echo in marble halls and names are carried with weight.

you grip your knee, suddenly clammy through your jeans. you’re still in your seat when jimin touches your hand again.

“hey.”

you turn to her. she looks….too calm. and it probably comes from years of walking into rooms where she never has to explain herself.

her thumb brushes your wrist. “just be yourself. okay?”

you want to laugh, but it would come out wrong because you don’t know what being yourself is when you’re only ever allowed to be part of her in secret.

but you nod anyway.

when the driver opens the door for you, you step out into someone else’s world. one that was never built for you, where love like this doesn’t exist outside the shadows.

the front doors of the mansion swing open before either of you reach the final step. they move like part of the house itself — silent, smooth, handled by someone whose job is to anticipate needs before they’re voiced.

a man in a black suit stands just beyond the threshold, posture so upright it feels performative. beside him, a woman in a pale blouse and soft heels waits with a smile already painted on.

mr and mrs yu.

you recognise her before she speaks — the same eyes as jimin. softer around the edges, but familiar. she steps forward, hands extended, and she leans in for a quick kiss on the cheek that feels too rehearsed to be intimate.

“mum, dad,” jimin greets, voice perfectly even. “this is y/n.”

mrs yu’s smile widens, warm in a way that almost feels real. “so lovely to meet you, y/n. we’ve heard a little bit about you.”

you nod quickly, suddenly unsure what to do with your hands. “thank you for having me.”

“ah,” mr yu clicks his tongue, not unfriendly, but with a kind of deliberate precision. he offers his hand — firm grip, quick release. “welcome.”

his voice is deep, clear. there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes your spine straighten. like he’s already cataloguing you. the posture, the voice, the shoes.

he doesn’t linger, doesn’t offer anything more.

fuck’s sake.

mrs yu steps back and gestures you both in. “come inside, come in — you must be cold.”

you follow jimin through the foyer and it’s ridiculous how big it is. high ceilings, crown mouldings, floors that don’t creak with every step. the light comes from chandeliers you don’t want to know the price of. there’s a curved staircase on one side and a long hallway stretching into quiet, expensive distance.

everything smells faintly of polish and lavender.

she walks calmly, unfazed, because she grew up tracing her fingers along these walls.

you lean toward her as you pass through another arched doorway. “you never mentioned being a crazy rich asian.”

she smiles. “you never asked.”

“i didn’t think i needed to ask.”

“i didn’t think it mattered.”

you raise your eyebrows but don’t push. she nudges your arm, a small grin on her lips and for a second it feels easy again.

mrs yu turns slightly as she walks beside you. “i’m sure this is all a bit much. jimin never really brings anyone over. not even her friends.”

you glance at jimin, but her face is unreadable.

“it’s beautiful,” you mumble quietly.

“it’s old,” she replies, almost fondly. “my husband’s family built the original structure — we’ve done a few renovations since. that chandelier is venetian, by the way. imported.”

you look up, nodding, then catch something along the wall — a long, gilded frame with a photo inside. the whole family. jimin in a pressed white dress, her sister beside her, taller and sharper. mr yu standing between them like a pillar. mrs yu with a hand on each of their shoulders; everyone smiling, perfect and still.

you wonder what it’s like to grow up framed in gold.

you’re led into the dining room next and it’s as dramatic as everything else — wide table, high-backed chairs, tall windows dressed in heavy fabric.

there’s food already on the table: plated starters, baskets of bread, glasses of red and white glinting in the candlelight. you sit where they tell you. jimin slips in beside you before you can object. her leg brushes yours under the table — casual, but deliberate.

you try to focus on the food but it’s quiet. too quiet. the cutlery clinks against porcelain. a butler moves soundlessly in and out of the room.

mr yu finally clears his throat. “how did you two meet?”

you glance at jimin, unsure who should speak.

she answers smoothly, without hesitation. “at uni. we had a class in the same building. i kept seeing her around.”

“what do you study?” he asks, looking to you now.

“law,” you reply. “final year.”

he nods once, like some sort of approval. “ambitious.”

mrs yu smiles as she reaches for the bread. “we’re so glad you could join us, y/n. i know how busy things get during the end of the term.”

“thank you for having me,” you say again because it’s the only thing that feels safe.

you feel her shift beside you and a moment later, she’s reaching for the bottle of red wine. she pours it slowly into your glass, her sleeve brushing your arm.

“you okay with this?” she asks softly, just for you.

you nod, taking the glass. the wine is rich, dry. probably expensive.

jimin pours her own glass next and sits back, hand resting too close to yours under the table. her knee presses lightly against your thigh. she’s pretending not to notice but it’s there. and now you can’t stop noticing it either.

the conversation drifts to jimin’s sister, to the renovation happening on one of the properties, to a cousin who just got engaged. you try to keep your expression polite, interested but you feel it building again — that tension in your chest.

you’re holding your breath through something that shouldn’t be painful, but is.

because she’s here. beside you…pouring your wine, touching your knee, playing this role like she wants to be seen as your girlfriend.

but only by you. never by them; not fully.

and you don’t know what’s worse — that she wants you here or that she still won’t name what you are.

the dinner stretches out like a warm, gilded illusion. food comes and goes, silver dishes passed politely, wine poured with an ease that only happens in houses like this. you don’t recognise half the things on your plate but you eat them anyway. it’s easier than thinking.

and somehow, between the clink of cutlery and the softness of linen napkins, you find yourself talking to jimin’s father more than you expected to. he surprises you, sharp in a way you didn’t anticipate.

he asks what you plan to do with your degree. when you mention that both your parents teach at korea university, he raises an eyebrow.

“ah,” he says, with a small smirk. “the enemy.”

you blink. “since i started at yonsei, dinners become a battlefield.”

he chuckles, loud enough that even the butler standing near the back of the room shifts a little. “depends on the night.”

“mum teaches literature,” you add, like that might soften it. “dad’s in political science.”

“ah, the best combination,” he waves his hand as if that explains something. “i always say: literature makes you dream, politics makes you useful.”

“i think they’d disagree.”

“then they’re proving my point.”

you smile despite yourself. it’s easy to see where jimin gets it — the dry humour, the coolness that masks something warmer underneath.

“you ever consider working corporate?” he asks, somewhere between his second and third glass of red. “we’re always looking for sharp people.”

you clear your throat. “at yu group?”

he shrugs like he hasn’t just casually offered you a future most people would kill for. “why not? we like smart women.”

you try to laugh, try to brush it off. “i’m really not that good.”

and that’s when she speaks up. “she’s top of her class.”

the words come out steady. proud. there’s a curl to her mouth like she’s been holding that fact in for weeks, just waiting for the chance to say it out loud. her hand is still under the table, fingers brushing lightly against yours every few minutes like she can’t quite stop.

“the best friend i could ever have,” she adds, glancing your way.

you nod once, quietly, and don’t correct her.

her mother is still smiling and he gives a slight nod, as if approval has been granted and the conversation can move on. and for a few minutes, it does — talk of real estate, someone’s cousin in dubai, a destination wedding next spring that mrs yu is already dreading.

you sip your wine and watch the way the glass distorts the candlelight when you tilt it just slightly. and for a moment, just a brief flicker, you let yourself believe you’re in the room for a reason that matters. but then — like it always does — the truth finds its way in.

“what day is your flight again, darling?” her mother asks, casually reaching for more bread. “we’ll be in provence the second week, but if you and jaewook are still in italy by then, we can meet up somewhere in between.”

the bread on your plate goes untouched as your breath hitches. jimin’s hand stiffens under the table, but she doesn’t say anything.

what the fuck, you thought.

her father swallows a sip of wine. “shame he couldn’t make it tonight. would’ve been nice to have all three of you.”

and that’s it.

no clarification or awkward laughs, no sudden oh — actually, it’s not jaewook anymore.

you’re not surprised.

but god, does it ache.

your fingers curl into your napkin, slow and controlled. you fold it neatly across your lap, not because it needs folding but because your hands need something to do. your throat tightens around nothing. the food in front of you blurs just slightly at the edges.

jaewook.

still him.

it’ll always be fucking him.

you feel it settle across your shoulders — the weight of what this really is. you were invited because he wasn’t able to go…a replacement seat at a table already set. her best friend, top of her class, easy to bring along. quiet and agreeable. not the boy she kisses in public and definitely not the one they’re planning a european summer with.

just…you.

you nod along as the conversation rolls forward without you. smile when it’s expected, answer a question about school that you don’t really hear. jimin laughs beside you, comments something about her sister’s bad taste in music, pours you more wine.

and still, she says nothing.

you wonder if she hears it too — the silence between the lines. the place where the truth should’ve lived.

you wonder if she’ll say something when you leave. if she’ll reach for your hand again and say, i didn’t know she’d mention him. or the trip i’m planning with him. if she’ll apologise in that soft way she always does, the one that makes you forgive her even when you know you shouldn’t.

but in this moment, she keeps talking.

smiling.

and all you can feel is how cold it suddenly is in a room this beautiful.

the voices around you start to blur. not all at once — just enough at first that it’s like someone’s layered a film over the evening. like the table, the wine, the laughter have all slipped just slightly out of sync with the rest of the world.

someone says something about florence. someone else corrects it — no, they’ll be starting in amsterdam.

you’re still sitting there but the room feels like it’s pressing in on itself.

jimin adds: “it’s not even set in stone yet,” and her mother waves a hand like that’s never mattered. “oh, you always say that. jaewook’s already looking at hotels.”

the ringing starts behind your left ear. dull and high like the edge of a migraine or the hum of old fluorescent lights. you don’t move, pressing your fingers into the napkin on your lap and let the fabric give.

in your head, you hear it again. her voice, low and tired, the night she showed up in your room without knocking. i love you. she whispered it like it had cost her something.

you believed her.

god, you had believed her and she played you like a fool.

you try to replay the moments — the first time she reached for your hand under a table, the night she stood in the doorway of your dorm with a sandwich in one hand and your name in her mouth. the way she looked at you, back when she thought no one else was watching.

but now they feel like film stills. scenes from a movie you loved once, but can’t remember the plot of. you see the way she would smile at you, forehead pressed to yours, lips brushing against your cheek like a promise.

except it wasn’t.

it was borrowed time.

you don’t realise you’re standing until your chair scrapes softly against the floor. they all stop talking. jimin glances over at you, startled.

“are you okay?” she asks, concern written all over her face.

you offer something that’s barely a sentence — a quiet, “bathroom,” or maybe just “sorry.” you’re not sure.

you find your way down the hallway like you’ve done this a hundred times even though you’ve never been here before.

and of course, the bathroom is clean. it smells like rosewater and something more expensive underneath. the sink is built into marble that has no chips or watermarks. everything is pale and gold and the mirror is wide and unforgiving.

you shut the door and lock it. the sound of the latch falling into place is too loud. you stand there for a second, just staring at the back of the door like it might give you answers.

then you take a deep breath.

or try to.

but your chest stays tight as if it’s been sewn closed. there’s no room left to inhale anything that doesn’t hurt. you grip the edge of the sink with both hands and look up at yourself in the mirror.

and there it is: the truth.

you’re not her girlfriend.

you’re not even her plan.

you’re the person she pours wine for while her mother sets the table for someone else. the one she calls her best friend with a smile, knowing you won’t correct her because you’ll sit quietly and play along.

because love has made you soft and fucking stupid and willing.

you press your fingers to your face, trying to swallow it back. the shaking starts in your hands, then moves up your arms, into your shoulders. it’s not loud.

it’s just you, bent slightly forward over a porcelain sink in a stranger’s home, trying to breathe through the moment everything comes undone.

your eyes burn. not like they did before, not with frustration — this is different. a tear slips out and it doesn’t need noise to hollow you out. it just comes warm down your cheeks before you even feel it.

you believed her because you thought loving you meant she would choose you.

you let yourself imagine what it would be like to be hers fully — not in whispers, not in bedrooms with the lights off, but in rooms like that one, with her parents and their careful china and the space beside her not reserved for someone else.

it’s the type of crying that comes with knowing. with the final, gut-deep understanding that the person you love is never going to choose you in the way that matters.

your breath catches, shoulders shaking once and then again. your hand covers your mouth, as if that will keep it in. but the tears come slowly, hot and unspectacular. no gasping, just a quiet, trembling fall — like something inside you giving up the fight.

you think of irene. of how she looked at you like she was waiting for you to admit what you already knew; or taehyung, eyes soft, voice careful, telling you not to wear your heart so openly for someone who never earned it.

your reflection stares back — red-eyed and dull. you wipe beneath your eyes with your sleeve, knowing it won’t fix anything. not the ache.

you want to leave but you don’t know how to move.

so you sit on the edge of the bathtub instead, hands clenched in your lap, breath uneven, heart too loud in your ears.

and you stay there.

because for the first time, you know — this is the end.

this is it. the moment you realise you can’t keep folding yourself smaller just to stay beside someone who won’t stand up for you.

this is where it changes — not because something broke but because you’re done pretending it hasn’t already.

you stay like that. knees to chest, palms open. letting the grief do what it needs to.

the knock startles you. it’s soft, almost careful, but it pulls you out of yourself like a thread tugged loose. you blink hard; for a moment you don’t know where you are. the light above you hums softly, you can’t remember when the crying stopped.

you push yourself off the floor, legs heavy, vision blurred. your reflection in the mirror is wrecked. skin blotchy, lips trembling, eyes red in a way that can’t be wiped clean. you splash cold water on your cheeks anyway and pat down your face with a hand towel that smells too clean, too untouched. you run your fingers under your eyes until the worst of it fades.

another knock, a little firmer this time.

when you unlock the door and open it, jimin is standing there.

her eyes widen the moment she sees you. not because of the tears still clinging to your lashes, but because she can tell. she sees it all over your face — something’s broken. and this time, it won’t go back.

“hey,” she breathes, stepping in quickly. “what happened, are you —”

you don’t mean to cry again but the moment she wraps her arms around you, it’s like something gives way. your hands clutch her coat, your forehead presses against her shoulder and the words start spilling out before you can stop them.

“i can’t do whatever this is anymore,” you whisper, over and over, broken and breathless. “i can’t. this is fucking ruining me.”

she shushes you gently, one hand at the back of your head, the other wrapped tight around your waist. “hey, hey, it’s okay. i’ve got you. we’ll figure it out. just breathe, baby.”

you’re shaking against her now, unable to stop the way your chest keeps folding in on itself. she pulls you tighter. “we’ll get through it. together. okay? just breathe with me.”

you let her hold you, the smell of her perfume — something soft and green, wraps around you like a memory. it used to calm you. now it just makes your stomach hurt.

after a long while, the tears slow because you’ve emptied everything you had left.

you pull back, just slightly…enough to look at her.

“sit,” you say and your voice doesn’t shake this time.

she does.

you stand in front of her, hands in your pocket and heart pounding in your ears. “we’re over.”

her whole body goes still, eyebrows creasing. “what?”

“we’re over, jimin.”

“no,” she answers too quickly, standing too fast, grabbing your wrists. “no, you don’t mean that.”

you pull your arms free and step back. “i do.”

she’s already crying; hands trembling when she reaches for your face and this time you let her touch you, just for a second. her thumbs brushing your cheeks like she’s trying to memorise you. “no, please — i love you.”

you stare at her, jaw tight. “no, you love the way i made you feel. like you weren’t trapped. like there was another version of your life, but you never chose me, not once.”

“that’s not true —”

“isn’t it?” you interrupt. “you’ve made yourself believe your feelings for jaewook are gone, but they’re not. they’re just safe now. familiar. he’s the life your parents approve of, the one you’ve built history with. and i’m just some girl you met that’s in the way of that.”

she opens her mouth, but nothing comes.

“we have nothing in common,” you go on. “you don’t even know what my favourite book is. i don’t know what makes you cry when no one’s watching. we built this on stolen time and secrecy and you called it love.”

her tears fall faster. she grabs for your hand again, holds it like it might keep you from leaving. “i do love you.”

you shake your head slowly. “then why am i still the secret?”

“i’m not ready,” she whispers, lowering her head down. “i…i just need more time. but i’ll choose you, again and again.”

you stare at her, your voice low now. and steady. “then tell me. if you could call jaewook right now, end things, be with me completely — would you?”

she doesn’t answer and that’s all you need.

you nod, looking down at her hand wrapped around yours and peel her fingers off gently.

“you say you love me,” you mumble with such finality. “but you love the idea of me. you wish i were jaewook.”

her face crumples. “don’t say that. it’s not true!”

but the silence that followed your question said more than enough. you step back and wipe your face once more.

you’re done.

and then, without looking at her, you say: “please tell your parents i’m sorry for leaving early.”

she moves forward again, desperate now. “y/n, please. please, just listen. i love you.”

you don’t look at her. not because you don’t want to, but because if you do, you’ll remember what it feels like to fall for her all over again.

you open the bathroom door. her voice cracks behind you, softer now. “please don’t go.”

stepping into the hall, the door clicks shut behind you. she doesn’t chase you. and this time, this is the end. not with slammed doors or shouted words — but with truth spoken in a tone that leaves nothing behind.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the bar is dim and sticky and too loud — you don’t know how you ended up here.

the streets were a blur and now you’re leaning over a counter that hasn’t been wiped properly, asking the bartender for the cheapest shot of vodka they have. it’s the kind of place that smells like old limes and wet wood, where every surface feels touched a hundred times over.

it’s busy for a thursday night. some uni students shouting over pool in the corner, a girl laughing too loudly behind you, someone bumping your stool on the way past and muttering a half-apology. you don’t care.

the chaos works for you right now. it matches something inside your chest that’s still shaking.

your phone vibrates again and you straight up ignore it.

he slides the vodka toward you without asking for a name. you tip it back. it burns all the way down: sharp, sour, pointless. you close your eyes as inhale sharply through your nose; hands trembling as you put the glass down.

twenty-three missed calls from jimin.

leave me alone, you thought, swiping your thumb across the screen and hold down the power button as the light fades.

the world quiets just slightly.

you sit there, watching people, not trying to think. a man two seats over is telling a story that’s making his friends cry with laughter. a girl with glitter on her cheeks keeps checking her lipstick in a compact mirror; you wonder what it must feel like to be that far away from someone.

another shot appears in front of you. you don’t remember asking for it; maybe you did.

you’re halfway through deciding whether or not to drink it when someone slips into the stool beside you.

her perfume gets there first. something floral, warm, a little sweet — oddly familiar.

“you look like shit,” she points out.

you don’t need to look up to know it’s sana. still, you turn to her.

her hair is messy, damp at the ends like she’s run her fingers through it too many times, eyeliner smudged and lips glossy in a way that looks accidental. there’s a looseness to her posture that tells you she’s had at least a few drinks already, maybe four. she leans forward like she owns the bar, one arm slung lazily across the counter.

“so,” she playfully smiles, chin tilted toward your untouched glass. “are you drinking to forget or to remember?”

you shake your head once; tired. “i don’t even know anymore.”

she hums, signals the bartender for something with a flick of her fingers. “classic.”

you stare at her for a moment. the way she exists so unapologetically like every room owes her something: she’s chaos dressed in perfume and charm and too much skin.

but tonight, she looks more undone than usual.

“what are you doing here, sana?” you ask. “this is not your go-to.”

she shrugs. “felt like being somewhere no one expected me to be and look who i found.” you nod, because yeah. same. she glances sideways at you, her expression shifting. “so who broke your heart?”

you laugh once, sharp and humourless. “does it matter?”

“no,” she chuckles and takes a sip of her drink. “but i like knowing things, about you.”

you watch her for a moment. the way she swirls the straw through her cocktail, her eyes refusing to leave yours.

“you still with her or what?” she asks, voice lower now.

you don’t answer; not directly. just pick up your shot. holding it, stare at the way the light bends through the clear liquid.

sana leans closer. “that’s a no, then,” you don’t look at her but you smile, raising the glass and drink. it burns, again. she grins, lazy and dangerous. “your loss, her mistake.”

you rest your forehead against your hand, elbow on the bar. and beside you, she doesn’t move away or ask anything else.

she just sits there, humming under her breath as she sips her drink…like she’s got all the time in the world.

the fifth shot goes down rougher than the rest. not because the vodka changed, but because your body’s caught up to the burn. your stomach’s all heat and sour now, your tongue slightly numb. everything’s spinning at a slow, bearable tilt, like the bar’s decided to rock with you instead of against you.

you slide the bills across the counter with more force than needed, eyes squinting at the total.

“keep the change,” you mumble and you don’t wait to see the bartender’s reaction.

you hear the scrape of a stool behind you and then the familiar click of low heels on wood, trailing after your unsteady footsteps.

the dive bar’s crowd has spilled into the street — a girl sobbing into her phone by the curb, a group laughing too loud as they light cigarettes with shaky hands, some guy in a bucket hat asking for a lighter with no success.

you don’t make eye contact with anyone. just walk, or try to. the footpath dips and rolls beneath you like it’s breathing and you’re not sure if you’re heading home or just away.

behind you, sana keeps pace, heels tapping against the pavement. “you can’t walk like that,” she calls out, slurring slightly, but her voice is firm. “you’ll end up in a ditch. or a song.”

you glance over your shoulder. “i’m not…i don’t need —”

“i’m calling an uber,” she interrupts, holding up her phone. “separate ones, if that makes you feel less dramatic.”

you stop walking, heels turning to her.

she looks like something out of a painting. messy hair falling past her shoulders, lip gloss fading, eyes glassy but stubborn. the moonlight paints her in soft blues and silvers, catching the curve of her cheekbone and the flush of her skin.

and you say it before you even know why. “why do you care so much, sana? look at the mess you are.”

she doesn’t even flinch at your tone. “this is the mess you made out of me.”

her words land with more weight than you expect, cutting through your buzz like a jagged breath. you take a step back, startled by it, but she moves forward, steadying you before your balance tips. her hand against your arm is warm and certain, like she still remembers how to hold you together.

you stare at her, too stunned to speak because she’s right…you left her hanging, dropped her without words and disappeared like she was something easy to forget.

now she’s here, a couple drinks deep just like you, still trailing behind like she’s afraid you’ll vanish somehow. you keep your silence as you turn around and keep walking, slower this time. behind you, she follows. her steps are lighter and uneven. you glance back and notice the way she’s stumbling slightly in those stupid fucking heels.

leaning against someone’s fence for support, you tug off your shoes — battered old sneakers, half-untied and hold them out to her without a word.

“what? no, don’t be —”

“you can’t walk in those if you’re gonna stalk me,” you point out, voice low, tired. “just take them.”

she hesitates, but something in your face shuts her up. she slips out of her heels, gingerly trades them for yours. they look ridiculous on her, too big, laces flapping as she tries to balance.

you scoop her heels up, one in each hand. your feet hit the concrete cold and flat, but it feels better somehow. more honest.

you walk in silence, just two girls carrying too many things.

the park is a few blocks down. patchy grass, crooked benches, a rusted swing set creaking in the breeze. someone left a pizza box under the water fountain. you walk straight to the centre of the lawn and collapse onto it without thinking.

sana stands over you for a second. “you’re actually insane.”

“and barefoot.”

she sighs, then joins you. the grass crunches beneath her as she lies down. her shoulder brushes yours.

you stare up at the sky. too much city light to see stars…though there’s a faint blur, soft and grey.

you think about jimin. what she’s doing. whether she’s still pacing that house, calling you. whether she’s crying into her hands, or justifying the silence to herself.

but you remind yourself that’s not your place anymore. you’re not the girl she loves.

you never were.

“i was hurt, you know,” she pulls you out of your trance suddenly. her voice is soft now, blurred around the edges. “watching you…with her.”

you turn your head. she’s still staring at the sky.

“i’m not as stupid as jaewook,” she adds.

you clench your jaw. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

she snorts, rolling her head to look at you. “you do, but it’s fine. play dumb. you’re good at it.”

you look away.

“it was a slap,” she goes on. “watching you hide for her when you couldn’t even show up for me — i wish you looked at me like that…back then.”

the grass is damp beneath you, seeping into your jeans. your fingers curl into the blades, tugging at them like they’ll offer something real.

“i adored you,” she whispers. “probably still do.”

you feel the ache rise in your chest again. sharp and familiar. her voice is so close, warm and breaking.

your throat tightens because you know you can’t give her what she wants. not now, not when you’re like this. the weight of it all is too much; the fact that it’s her saying these things when she was the one you walked away from without a word.

you don’t know what to say, so you do what you always do. “i’m really sorry.”

her breath catches, like she wasn’t expecting it.

and for a while, you both just lie there. with the city buzzing around you. with your shoes on her feet, her heels in your hands and nothing between you but too many unsaid things.

it’s not long before your heart is beating too fast. not from the drinking — that haze has worn off in waves, leaving only the chill of the grass underneath your back and the weight of too many feelings layered on your chest.

the park feels still, but the world spins around you anyway. you can feel it in the hum of the city, in the ache behind your eyes, in the way your fingers curl tighter around sana’s heels with every passing second.

beside you, she’s lying on her side now, head propped up by her arm. you can feel her gaze on you, warm and heavy, like it always was; as if she’s reading you without permission.

you reach into your coat pocket, fish out your phone and press the button to turn it on. it lights up with missed calls, unread messages. the screen too bright against the dark.

sana shifts, voice quiet. “how long?”

you glance at her. her face is lit by the soft yellow wash of a distant streetlamp. strands of her hair fall across her cheek.

you sigh. “a few months.”

“how many?”

“maybe…five.”

she exhales hard through her nose. “fuck, y/n.”

you turn your head back to the sky. it doesn’t look any different than it did ten minutes ago.

“you’re really something,” she adds, shaking her head, but there’s no bite to it…only exhaustion.

you sit with the truth of it. no more hiding, or saying it wasn’t serious like it ever made it easier.

“how did you figure it out?” you wonder, not looking at her.

she’s quiet for a long moment, so long that you think she’s not going to answer. then: “when you stopped looking at me completely. before karina, you still…i don’t know…you used to look at me. even when we stopped being whatever we were, you still gave me something. guilt, maybe. attention; a glance.”

you look at her now. she’s staring at the grass like it has answers.

“and then at the bar,” she add. “you didn’t even flinch. just looked through me like i was no one and she didn’t look too happy the second i sat beside you,” she says with a bitter laugh. “so, not hard to figure out.”

you nod slowly, shame crawling up your spine. “you’re right.”

she shrugs, like she wishes she weren’t.

you rest your chin against your shoulder, eyes half-closed. “so why do you still hang around?”

she laughs, short and dry. “because moving on from a year of being truly in love with someone who never let you all the way in isn’t exactly a clean break.”

her words land quietly. there’s no edge to them. just a dull, familiar ache.

“i’m sorry, sana.”

“you’ve already said that.”

“i thought you were too good for me,” you mutter, the words slow, as if admitting them aloud might solidify something you’ve never said before. “you were older and smarter. you had your life figured out. i was barely holding mine together, i didn’t know what i wanted and committing to anything felt like standing on really thin ice.”

she wipes under her eye with the edge of her sleeve. it’s dark, but you see the movement. you hear the breath that catches.

“you really hurt me,” she says, almost inaudibly.

before you can answer, your phone lights up in your lap, another call. you look at the name. your stomach twists.

“it’s her.”

sana doesn’t move, doesn’t look away. “answer it.”

your hands shake as you slide your thumb across the screen.

“y/n?” jimin’s voice is soft, breathless. “oh baby, thank god.”

you close your eyes. your chest hurts.

“i just wanted to hear your voice,” she continues. “i didn’t know where you went. i — I’ve been calling for hours. are you okay? are you safe?”

you swallow. your voice comes out hoarse. “i’m okay, i’m safe.”

there’s a pause on the other end and you hear the shuffling of keys.

“where are you?” she asks. “i’ve been at your dorm all night, but you’re not here.”

you hesitate, eyes flicking to sana, who’s still watching you — still here, her expression unreadable.

pressing the phone tighter to your ear, you heave out a sigh. “i’m with…sana.”

there’s a sharp breath on the line until it’s just pure silence.

“i’ll come pick you up,” jimin demands, voice suddenly firmer. “just tell me where.”

“no,” you whisper and your thumb hovers. “not now. or ever.”

“y/n —”

but you don’t wait. you hang up. you stare at the screen for a second, let it burn in your hand. and then, before you can talk yourself out of it, you block her number.

you put the phone back in your coat and don’t say anything.

sana doesn’t ask. she just lies beside you, in borrowed shoes, in the cold, with her heart cracked open beside yours. and neither of you move. not yet.

the silence stretches long after you’ve dropped your phone back into your pocket. it settles between the two of you like fog, slow and low and quiet. your arms are cold against the grass and your back damp.

the night’s caught up with you all at once, and you’re not sure if you feel like throwing up or falling asleep.

she finally shifts beside you, just enough for her shoulder to press into yours again.

you can still feel the ghost of jimin’s voice in your ear, clinging to the inside of your chest. how quickly she moved from relief to control; how ready she was to come and get you, like she still believed she had that right.

you wish it hurt more. instead, it just feels numb, too much noise behind glass.

sana exhales and you glance at her. she’s lying on her back again, arms crossed over her stomach, hair spread messily over the grass. she’s watching the sky like there’s something up there worth seeing.

“you really blocked her?”

you nod. “yeah.”

she doesn’t look surprised, somehow relieved in a way. “good.”

it’s a small word, but it lands like something final.

you let it sit between you.

your fingers uncurl, finally letting go of her heels. they clatter quietly to the grass beside you. she tilts her head slightly, eyes scanning your face like she’s still trying to map it.

“do you think you’ll go back to her?”

the question catches you off guard, you’re too tired to lie. “i don’t know.”

she nods once. accepts it, but something shifts in her jaw. you can see it — the way she wants to say more, but doesn’t.

you wish you could give her something. you wish you had anything left to give.

“thank you,” you say, voice raw. “for being here.”

sana blinks and her lips part like she might respond, but she doesn’t. instead, she leans her head lightly against your shoulder and you let her.

because even though you terribly broke her once, she’s here anyway. even if she shouldn’t be, even if you still don’t know how to love her back — it means something.

and so you sit together, shoes off, hearts messy, the night too long.

it’s just her head on your shoulder, the weight of everything you’ve done and the ache of something that could’ve been, if only you had known how to hold it.

“come on,” she gently utters after a while, lifting her head from your shoulder. “let’s walk…wherever it takes us.”

you laugh, short and breathless. “i might throw up.”

she shrugs like she’s pleased. “even better.”

she stands slowly, brushing the grass off her skirt with the kind of care that’s always been half her charm — the elegance she carried. then she offers both hands, open palms toward you as if she’s done this before…like she’s always been the one to pull you off the ground.

you let her haul you up, even if your legs feel like they’re made of wet cardboard. you sway a little and she catches you again, like it’s reflex.

you glance behind, spot the shoes you dropped earlier. “wait —”

you break from her hold and shuffle back toward them. the grass is damp under your socks, sticking to your skin in clumps. you lean down and squint at the faint logo printed along the insole.

“you didn’t tell me these were prada,” you grin, holding them up.

“does it matter?”

“yeah, actually,” you cradle them in the crook of your arm. “you’re lucky i didn’t sell them on the way here.”

she laughs and starts walking, slow steps that match yours, not in a rush. the streets are quieter now, the late-night buzz thinning out. neon signs hum above shuttered storefronts. the occasional vendor still lingers on corners — roasted chestnuts, instant ramyeon, knock-off phone cases.

you walk pass a flower cart that’s still open, tucked between a closed coffee shop and a laundromat with the lights still flickering.

sana stops and without asking, she points to a rose; pale pink, not too big, delicate.

the vendor wraps it without a word. she pays with a crumpled note from her coat pocket and turns to you, holding the flower out with a small, crooked smile.

you shake your head at her. “you’re seriously giving me a rose while i’m carrying your designer heels?”

“i’m rebranding.”

“as what? unbearable?”

she laughs again, nudges you with her shoulder. the rose smells faintly sweet, almost familiar. you take it anyway.

you walk side by side, your pace relaxed now. your body’s still not settled — the alcohol still humming low in your blood but the weight of the evening has eased a little, just enough to let you breathe again.

“what do you even do now?” you ask after a few blocks.

“hmm?” she looks over, adjusting her coat. “work stuff. sort of.”

“you either do or you don’t.”

“okay…i help out at mum’s company.”

“the real estate one?”

she nods, eyes flicking across the road as you wait for the light. “they needed someone to look over marketing and scheduling stuff, so i’ve been doing that. barely. mostly i just answer emails and pretend i know what i’m talking about.”

you nudge her this time. “you might as well come back to yonsei. you’re around so much like taehyung.

“and you’re there still,” she hums thoughtfully, the corner of her mouth twitching. “tempting.”

“i’d give it a week before you start complaining about group projects again.”

“i’d give it two days.”

you both laugh, easy and quiet. it surprises you how natural it still feels — the way your jokes land, the way she looks at you like she knows exactly what’s coming next. the rhythm is familiar, like a song you haven’t heard in years but still remember the words to.

“so you’re not in a rush to do anything else?”

“not really.” she shrugs. “i’ve got time. and money. and…other people’s expectations keeping me conveniently afloat.”

you nod slowly. “must be nice. being a nepo baby and all.”

“it is,” she chuckles, but there’s something behind it. a quiet admission.

you glance at her. the streetlights make her look softer, older. not in a bad way…just real, like the girl you used to know and the woman beside you are starting to blur into one.

you wonder, not for the first time tonight, what would’ve happened if you hadn’t walked away.

but maybe the answer’s always been the same: she would’ve stayed. and you would’ve still been too scared to hold it.

you shift the prada heels in your other arm and keep walking, matching her step for step. she doesn’t speak and neither do you.

by the time the streets start narrowing and the buildings around you shift from late-night diners and neon signs to apartment blocks and quiet windows, your legs ache in that dull, familiar way that says the night is ending. the city doesn’t feel like it’s spinning anymore, but you’re still not steady. the rose sana gave you is tucked into the crook of your elbow, petals bruising gently against your jacket. her shoes swing from your other hand, one heel clinking softly against the other with every step.

the only reason you realise where you’re heading is when you pass the old café — the one with the chipped brick facade and the teal door that never quite shut properly.

you remember the weeks you both kept showing up there like it wasn’t planned. two iced americanos, one croissant split in half. she used to pick the flaky crumbs off your shirt because she demanded it was her right.

your eyes linger on it. “still addicted to their croissant?”

she shrugs, hands in her coat pockets. “only when i miss you.”

your gaze lands on her but she’s not looking at you. just walking, eyes ahead.

you don’t respond because there’s nothing that wouldn’t open you up too wide. and maybe she knows that too, because she doesn’t press.

she turns to you, arms folded over her chest now, the wind tugging gently at her hair. “you should keep them, the heels.”

you raise an eyebrow. “you want me to babysit your pradas?”

“no,” she mumbles, mouth tilting into a half-smile. “i want an excuse to come back and get them.”

the smile she’s wearing is barely holding together. it’s light and joking, but underneath it is something quieter.

you nod, tucking the shoes under your arm. “i’ll make sure they’re fed.”

she snorts. “and walked.”

“twice a day.”

sana’s apartment building is unremarkable — not fancy, not run-down, just another tall stack of small lives. the entrance is lined with concrete planters, one with a half-dead lavender bush in it, the other empty save for cigarette butts and some plastic wrappers. the fluorescent light above the doorway flickers like it’s arguing with the dark.

she slows as you approach, feet dragging a little.

“this is me,” she begine, stopping at the bottom step as her breath curls into the cool air.

you nod, unsure if you’re supposed to keep going or say something first. the silence stretches again, but it’s not sharp anymore. it just sits there with you, quiet and true.

“thank you,” she hums, turning slightly to face you. “for walking me.”

“you didn’t need walking,” you grin, adjusting your grip on the heels. “you just needed company.”

“yeah,” she smiles at that. “maybe i did.”

her eyes scan your face, searching for something, but you don’t flinch, you let her look.

“i used to imagine this moment,” she admits, her voice dropping a little. “us, outside my door. you saying something reckless, me pretending to be annoyed. you’d kiss me. maybe ask to come up.”

you look at her, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“but now that you’re here like this,” she goes on, with a breath of quiet laughter. “i think i’m okay.”

you swallow. it rests heavy in your chest — not regret exactly, but something close to it. something shaped like it.

she rocks back on her heels slightly. “i’m moving on, slowly. but i think i needed tonight to remember that i can.”

you don’t know what to say. anything would sound too clean, so you nod again, slow and respectful.

“my door’s always open,” she continues, watching you with fond eyes. “not in a sad way, not even in a hopeful way. just…if you ever forget your way home and decide you want me again.”

you stand there, letting the stillness fold around the moment. she reaches out, touches your elbow briefly; just a press of her fingers against your coat.

then, she leans in and kisses your cheek. not in a way that asks for anything — just goodbye, maybe. or something smaller. something kind.

she steps through the door and disappears up the stairwell without another word. you glance up at her window as the light from her apartment flickers on. you don’t mean to linger, but something about it feels unfinished.

her window opens, and then there she is — hair a little messier now, one arm braced on the frame. her breath visible in the cold.

“forget all the bullshit i said, changed my mind on the way up,” she looks down at you. “do you wanna come up for tea?”

you laugh without meaning to.

she grins wider. “i’ve got peppermint and a very expired packet of ginger snaps.”

you shake your head. “you’re terrible at selling this.”

“you came all this way — might as well see what else i’ve got going for me.”

“i’m coming.”

you take the stairs two at a time. the shoes still tucked under your arm, the rose from earlier pressed into your coat pocket. her door’s already open when you reach the top.

she’s standing in the hallway barefoot, your sneakers kicked off near the wall and she looks at you like she’s been expecting you forever.

and for the first time in a long while, stepping inside doesn’t feel like a mistake. it just feels…warm.

she closes the door behind you. no promises. no labels, just the comfort of being wanted, even now. even still.

there’s the faint smell of clean laundry and maybe jasmine, whatever perfume sana wore last week and left on a jumper somewhere.

the first thing you do when you step inside is take off your coat, lay it neatly across the arm of the lounge, then walk over to the entryway where the shoe rack sits tucked into the wall. sana’s heels are still in your hands — you place them down beside her other (also expensive) shoes with more care than you mean to, aligning them so they won’t lean or fall.

next, you pull the rose from your coat pocket. it’s slightly bruised now from the walk, the petals a little crushed at the edges, but still lovely and soft. there’s a glass vase on a side table near the tv, empty except for dust. you fill it halfway at the sink, then nestle the stem inside.

sana notices the gesture, pauses mid-step in the hallway and says nothing; just watches you with something unreadable in her expression before disappearing into the bedroom.

the silence settles around you like breath held in the throat. you take a few slow steps through the open living space and everything about it tugs at something quiet inside you.

the rug is still the same pale beige, fraying slightly at the corners. the bookshelf still leans left, stuffed with too many paperbacks stacked horizontally when there wasn’t space left upright. the second drawer of the kitchen counter — the one that always stuck — is still chipped at the edge. and in the corner of the living room, barely visible behind the curtain, that small dent in the wall from when sana once tried to hang a painting without measuring.

you haven’t been here in years and yet it looks exactly as you remember. she is someone who never saw the point of changing something that worked.

it makes your chest ache in a way that doesn’t feel urgent, just inevitable.

“you need help in there?” you call out when she takes too long, not too loudly.

“nope,” her voice comes muffled, followed by the thud of a closing wardrobe door. “just trying to find something less…constricting.”

you smirk at the word: familiar, dramatic and hers.

a few minutes pass before she reappears, barefoot, hair loosely tied back, wearing a hoodie that’s clearly too big for her shoulders. it takes you a second — and then you know. it’s yours. grey, worn soft at the cuffs, the hem fraying just slightly. it used to be your favourite.

you stare at it for a beat too long. “is that mine?”

she glances down, feigns surprise. “oh? must’ve slipped into my laundry years ago.”

you laugh, a little hoarse. “you’re unbelievable.”

“and comfortable,” she adds, tugging the sleeves down over her hands.

you lean back against the counter, arms crossed, letting your eyes follow her as she moves through the kitchen. she knows where everything is without looking — mugs clinking softly as she opens the cupboard, pauses, mutters something under her breath.

she crouches slightly to check the tea tin, frowns. “where the fuck are my teabags?”

you raise an eyebrow. “that your idea of a welcoming host?”

“i had peppermint,” she groans. “last week. unless my fridge is eating things again.”

“maybe it’s trying to protect you.”

“from what?”

“peppermint tea,” you say and she laughs.

she fills the kettle with water, sets it on the stove and turns the dial. the flame flares. she flinches slightly when she brushes the side with her hand. “shit —”

you move forward instinctively, but she waves you off, shaking her hand out with a wince. “i’m fine. just punishment for poor organisation.”

you hover beside the counter while she spoons loose tea into a strainer, finally deciding on something chamomile adjacent. she passes over a filled mug and you cradle it in your hands like warmth might make sense again.

the television’s already on, volume low, playing a rerun of friends. the one where joey finds out. the laugh track rises faintly in the background, the kind of noise that keeps a room from feeling too still.

you take a seat beside her on the couch, legs pulled up, drink warm against your palms.

“so, you still drink peppermint?” she asks, settling deeper into the cushions.

you raise your mug. “still pretending.”

she stares at you for a second then lets out this low, incredulous laugh, burying her face into the side of the couch. “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“what?”

“you hated it, didn’t you?”

you nod. “always did.”

she throws her head back and laughs again, the sound catching on itself, thinning at the edges like it might tip into something else. she recovers quickly, exhales slow, long. “god, we were so dumb.”

“we were,” you agree, sipping your tea.

the warmth settles in your chest, not from the drink, but from her…from the way she sits beside you like no time has passed, like you hadn’t disappeared on her and she doesn’t carry the weight of that.

“what’ve you been reading these days?” you ask, eyes on the screen.

“some essay collection about unfinished cities. buildings that stopped mid-construction and became part of the landscape.”

you glance at her. “you always did love a metaphor.”

“it’s depressing as shit.”

“so, you.”

she bumps your knee with hers; it stays there “what about you? still planning to leave after graduation?”

you stare into your mug. “i don’t know. some days, yeah. some days i feel like i’d get lost anywhere else.”

“you wouldn’t,” she insists. not like a promise.

you look at her — properly, this time. and she looks at you like she’s always known the version of you you’re trying so hard to become.

“we were young.”

“you were scared,” she replies.

“you were patient.”

“too patient.”

she doesn’t flinch when she says it. there’s no resentment or longing behind it. it’s the softness of someone who’s already made peace with the waiting.

you set your mug down on the coffee table, watching the way the steam curls and fades. the tv drones on, another laugh track, another joke you don’t catch.

“i tried dating,” she admits so quietly you almost miss it. your head turns. she’s staring at the carpet now, legs tucked up, fingers curled around her own mug like it’s holding her back. “a couple of people. it just…didn’t work.”

you wait, letting her take her time.

“no one made me laugh like you did,” she smiles, longing. “or pissed me off the way you did. which i think’s part of the appeal.”

you smile faintly. she looks at you then, eyes steadier than they’ve been all night.

“i’m not asking for another chance, i just want you to know — if you need me, i’m still here. not waiting. just…here. however you want.”

your chest tightens. “i’m not ready and i don’t want to hurt you.”

“i know.”

“but i don’t want to lose you again.”

she leans in, rests her head on your shoulder. her body’s close but not heavy. “then don’t.”

after a while, she lies down along the couch, arms tucked in close to her chest, she pats the space beside her without looking.

you lie down, slowly. her body curves away from yours. the blanket’s barely covering both of you. her foot brushes yours under it, once, and then doesn’t move again.

you close your eyes. and for the first time in weeks — maybe months…nothing inside you hurts. because for tonight, being near her is enough. not everything needs to be fixed. some things are allowed to just exist. gently.

like this.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the first thing you feel is weight — soft and warm across your chest, like a blanket with breath. then the tickle of hair against your neck, the faintest hint of perfume and sleep.

sana’s hair is everywhere, tangled across your collarbone, your throat, her cheek pressed just under the dip of your shoulder. her breath rises and falls in shallow rhythms, lips parted slightly, eyelashes fanned across her cheek. her arms are curled in close, one leg tangled with yours.

the living room is dim, daylight leaking in thin threads through the drawn curtains. the tv is still on, volume low, flickering through an infomercial for kitchenware neither of you would ever buy.

you lie still for a while, your arm numb beneath her, but you don’t move. it’s the kind of quiet that feels earned. the television’s off, the world outside still hushed by early light. your shirt is soft beneath you, her hoodie still faintly smells like detergent and something else you don’t have a name for.

sana stirs awake as you shift; she mumbles something incomprehensible before burying her face deeper into the space between your shoulder and neck. her voice is sleep-rough, barely there. “is it morning?”

“barely,” you murmur. “maybe past noon.”

she groans, pulling herself upright slowly. her eyes are heavy-lidded as she stretches, arms raised above her head, hoodie slipping up her stomach. she blinks at you through the strands of hair falling over her eyes.

“you want breakfast or lunch or…whatever time it is?” she asks, rubbing her temple.

you sit up too, slower, still reeling from the weight of sleep and the mild throb behind your eyes. “just coffee, if that’s alright. i’ve got a lecture in like an hour.”

she nods, yawning. “coffee’s fine. use whatever’s there. i think the moka pot still works. oh — and i left some clothes on the bed if you want to shower.”

you pause, your fingers resting at your temple. “you didn’t have to.”

“i know,” she says, pushing herself off the couch. “but i wanted to.”

you stand, stretching. those vodka shots sit at the bottom of your gut like coins tossed in too deep.

the hallway to her bedroom is dim and narrow. the moment you step inside, the smell hits you — faint floral perfume on the bedspread. the clothes are folded at the edge of the bed. yours, but not ones you remember leaving behind. you touch the fabric absently.

everything’s still here. not just the objects, but the version of you that once belonged in this room, in this light.

in the shower, the water is warm and noisy, echoing against tile. you stand with your forehead against the wall, eyes closed, breathing in the steam. the heat helps a little, but your stomach still turns. not from the alcohol…not entirely.

jimin creeps in around the edges — her voice, her hands, her apology over the phone. the way she said your name like it still meant something. you press your eyes shut tighter. the weight of it lands differently now. you’re not angry, but you feel sick in a way you don’t know how to explain.

you towel off quickly. dress in the clothes sana laid out. they smell faintly of drawer wood and lemon detergent as you brush your fingers through your damp hair in the mirror and avoid looking yourself in the eyes too long.

your phone’s now dead, pulling it from your coat pocket and putting it back. you could ask for a charger but you don’t, not today.

the quiet feels cleaner without it.

when you walk back into the kitchen, sana’s seated on the counter, still in your hoodie, legs crossed, scrolling through something on her phone.

she looks up, smiles when she sees you, soft and unguarded. “looking good.”

you cross to her, press a quick kiss to her cheek without thinking about it — it lingers a little too long.

“thank you,” you clear your throat, blushing slightly.

she tilts her head, smile deepening. “for what?”

“for letting me stay over and…this.”

quickly, you turn away before she can answer, walk to the windows and tug them open. light floods in slowly, catching dust motes in the air.

you flick the kettle on and open the same cupboard she did the night before. the tea is still there, barely touched. but you need something stronger. you find the coffee — ground and sealed in a jar with a crooked label and brew it black.

the scent fills the space quickly, bitter and grounding. you don’t drink it. just pour it into a travel mug you find by the sink.

“what are you up to today?”

sana shakes her head, letting out a groan. “sleeping all day. maybe go shopping.”

“what a hard life.”

“so much easier when you’re around,” she playfully bites back. “good luck dealing with jimin.”

you bite your lip, rolling your eyes. “don’t remind me.”

before you leave, you pull a scrap of paper from her notebook and scribble a note. your handwriting is messier than usual, letters uneven.

thanks for the tea and the shoes. maybe dinner sometime this week? – y/n.

you place it beside her laptop. she hasn’t noticed yet, still distracted by whatever’s on her phone. you don’t say goodbye out loud. just slip on your coat, take one last look at her in your hoodie, barefoot, head bowed.

“i’m off,” you look up from the front door, smiling. “see you?”

“see you later, have fun!” she waves as you step out quietly and close the door behind you.

the hallway smells faintly of dust and coffee burns your tongue. you don’t know what any of this means, not yet, but for now…it’s enough.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the lecture passes like fog. you sit through it with your eyes fixed on the front, pen barely moving across the page. your body’s there, but everything else is caught somewhere between the echo of last night and the strange quiet that followed.

the words on the slides blur in front of you. all you register is the sting behind your eyes and the way your body feels, like you’re still curling up on sana’s couch, the taste of black coffee lingering at the back of your throat. you had barely eaten.

the lecture ends and you move without thinking, slipping your notebook into your tote bag and pushing through the doors before anyone can speak to you. you just want to go home.

not even to your dorm — just anywhere private. anywhere karina isn’t.

the air outside is warm and smells faintly of smoke. sunlight pours through the golgen gingko trees that line the pavement. your head still aches while campus hums around you, students filtering out of buildings, bikes passing and someone’s laughing a little too loudly.

there’s something dizzying about moving through a place that feels so normal while everything in you is still reeling. you reach the main gate and glance across the road just as a black mercedes pulls up. tinted windows. clean, polished, like it doesn’t belong anywhere near a uni campus.

the window slides down; her.

“get in,” karina says, voice thin. “i’ll take you home.”

you stare at her for a moment too long, trying to decipher something in her eyes that doesn’t make your head spin. there’s nothing to find. she looks like she hasn’t slept. you’re too exhausted to argue. you don’t want to get in. every part of you screams against it. but your limbs are slow and your lungs ache and your legs are beginning to shake from the cold. so you open the passenger door and slide in.

there’s no makeup on her face, not even the tinted lip balm she used to reapply like muscle memory. her hair’s knotted up in a bun that clearly wasn’t meant to be seen. the jumper she’s wearing is too big, sleeves swallowing half her fingers and the pants don’t even match.

she just looks tired, no, wrecked.

she exhales like she’s been holding her breath the whole time. “you’re okay,” she adds. it sounds like relief; saying it more for herself.

you study her face — the raw edges of it, how her eyes flicker all over you. and you’re so tired, so sick of the push and pull of her voice in your chest. you let the silence stretch for a second too long before saying flatly: “i’m okay, karina.”

maybe it’s to protect yourself or maybe it’s punishment. either way, it lands like a slap.

she flinches at the name. her fingers tighten around the steering wheel, just barely. but she doesn’t argue as she starts driving and you let the silence hang between you like fogged-up glass.

the ache builds slowly in your chest. there’s no energy left for anger, not properly. just this numb, weightless sort of fatigue, like everything inside you has been wrung out.

you start counting things you’ll miss about her. the way she drove you crazy at the worst times. the smug little look she gave you when she knew she had won…her hands, her laugh, her breath warm against your shoulder whenever she fell asleep too close.

you’ll miss her like bruises miss the skin they belonged to.

but then again, you never really had her, did you? not fully; not without consequence.

what happened between the two of you these past few months wasn’t love. it was everything else: longing, want, secrecy, ache.

everything but love.

she speaks again. “i couldn’t sleep. i stayed at the dorm. i was worried sick, my love.”

you let the words hang in the air for a beat too long. “why?”

you don’t look at her because you don’t owe her softness anymore.

she shifts slightly in her seat and her eyes flick down to your clothes; her expression changing. the pieces click together in her mind.

the oversized shirt and hoodie, the joggers that aren’t yours and she already knows. she just wants to hear it.

“whose clothes are those?”

you sigh, your mouth starting to taste like regret.

“sana’s,” you answer, turning your head just enough to see her reaction. “i was at her apartment.”

karina lets out a sound between a laugh and a scoff. the kind that builds out of disbelief. “right. because she’s always just taking care of you, isn’t she?”

your head turns toward her. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” she snaps, jaw clenching. “that she’s clearly still fucking in love with you and you’re playing into it!”

you don’t respond right away. the silence between you grows sharp teeth and you think of sana sitting cross-legged on the couch last night, pouring you a cup of tea, tucking her hair behind her ears like it wasn’t supposed to mean something — the way she looked at you like you were worth the mess…as if she wanted you to want her back.

“and you’re in love with your boyfriend,” you bite back before you can stop yourself. your voice cracks, bitter and tired. “so what the fuck is your point?”

she flinches. “it’s not the same —”

“isn’t it?” you cut in. “you get to play girlfriend when you feel like it. post pictures, meet your parents, hold his hand in public like it means nothing. and then you show up at my dorm in the middle of the night like i’m supposed to be yours too.”

silence slams into the car again. you can feel it thicken, feel it bleed into your bones. she doesn’t say anything but her knuckles are white.

the campus disappears behind you as you watch the road for a while. red brick turns into old terrace houses and you feel the exhaustion settle behind your ribs again. you hate this version of you: the cold one, but you don’t know how else to protect yourself from her.

“pull over,” you say gently now. “let me drive.”

she shakes her head and you catch her wiping under her eyes with the sleeve of her jumper. “don’t do that. don’t pretend like this was just —just something that happened.”

“what was it then?” you ask, heaving out a sigh. “a glitch in the matrix? some fling to get you through your quarter-life crisis?”

her eyes start to shine again. but this time, she doesn’t bother hiding it. “you know it wasn’t that.”

“i don’t know anything anymore…i thought i did.”

“i’ll leave him,” she whispers. “i swear to god, y/n, i’ll leave him right now. just don’t walk away; i’ll do anything.”

you stare at her. not the version that gets followed around campus and not the name everyone knows. just her. the girl who used to stay up late telling you about her mother’s garden, about how sometimes she didn’t want to follow the path carved out for her, about the songs she never released.

and you don’t know which parts of her were real anymore.

“i’m tired,” you let out, voice thick. “i’m tired of being your second choice. of pretending it doesn’t hurt when you smile at him like he is the only person in the room.”

you take a breath that catches in your throat. “i saw you, jimin. all those times you thought i wasn’t looking. and you looked really, really happy.”

she shakes her head, tears spilling now. “i wasn’t. not the way i am with you.”

you close your eyes. it makes it worse because all you can see is her laughing in your hoodie. you see her brushing your hair behind your ear, forehead pressed to yours in the dark.

you shake your head, suddenly too tired again. “i wish it was me. i wish you were proud of me like that.”

she doesn’t have an answer, just reaches out across the space, fingers brushing against yours like a question.

you pull your hand back instantly.

“you think this has been easy for me?” she continues, her voice breaking. “you think i liked lying to everyone? lying to myself?”

you stare at her.

“you didn’t lie to anyone, you were his girlfriend in public and you were still his girlfriend in private — you made me your secret.”

“we could still happen,” she croaks out. “we could make it work. please.”

the fragile belief you’ve been holding to suddenly collapses inside of you. “no, we couldn’t…we were a mistake and you know that.”

you stare out the window again, trees blurring past. the ache sharpens and you want to throw up.

“no,” she breathes. her hand slips over the centre console, fingers reaching for yours again. “please, let me make it right — please give me that chance.”

she finally pulls over in front of your dorm and the engine idles. she doesn’t look at you but her shoulders are shaking as you reach for the door handle.

“please,” she says, not looking at you. “stay. just for a bit. don’t go, not like this.”

“thank you for the ride,” you mumble. “and for everything else, karina.”

and this time there’s no softness in your eyes when you look at her. only the quiet, hollow kind of finality that comes when you’ve run out of reasons to stay.

“don’t look back,” you add.

and then you step out, shuttint the door behind you.

you don’t look back either, not once, not when her sobs finally break out through the closed windows.

not even when your chest burns so deeply it feels like grief.

you just walk.

and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself feel what it means to leave.

to really, truly leave.

the dorm is warm when you walk in, maybe too warm. someone’s turned the heater on too high and the air feels close, thick with the scent of leftover coffee and the cheap jasmine incense yunjin always insists on burning after someone cries.

your eyes sting from the heat and the smell and the quiet — all of it too much, too pressing after the cold air outside. you close the door behind you, drop your bag near the shoe rack and only then notice how still everything is.

then you hear it. that unmistakable shuffle of socks on wood.

“y/n-nie?”

giselle appears first from the kitchen, holding a mug with both hands like she had just been standing there for something to do. her eyes flick down to your shoes, your hoodie, your face —assessing quietly, not pushing. behind her, ryujin and yunjin linger near the lounge, both stiff in place, like they’ve been pacing until the very moment they heard the door.

“you’re home,” yunjin speaks, voice oddly gentle, as if too loud might break something. she’s in pyjamas, hair in two messy plaits, a blanket half-draped over her shoulder like she tried to sleep on the couch and failed.

you nod, swallowing around the dryness in your throat. “yeah.”

there’s a beat of cautious silence. giselle places the mug down on the bench without sipping, then walks over to you, her steps slow.

“we were worried,” she reveals and it’s not dramatic or scolding.

you shrug off your jumper, the fabric damp from the weather and draping it over the back of a chair. none of them move closer, but they don’t pull away either.

the tension isn’t sharp — it’s concern, threaded in a way only people who love you know how to do. no one asks anything yet, as if they’re waiting for permission.

you sigh, rubbing your face with both hands and your voice comes out cracked. “i was at sana’s.”

ryujin blinks. “like…all night?”

you nod, your eyes still focused on the wooden floor. it has a small stain near the corner where giselle spilled hot chocolate a month ago. you never bothered to clean it properly. now you’re staring at it like it might explain something. “yeah, i didn’t know where else to go.”

giselle crosses her arms over her chest as she begins to process what you just told them. yunjin opens her mouth, then closes it again.

“she took care of me,” you add softly. “just…sat with me. made sure i didn’t drown in my own vomit. gave me coffee this morning but that’s it.”

a silence stretches again, this one heavier.

then: “so,” giselle starts, cautious as ever. “what about…well, what happened with jimin?”

you suck in a slow breath. it tastes like regret. “it’s done.”

none of them react right away.

it feels like disappointment and relief all tangled together, like crying after holding your breath too long. you sit on the edge of the couch, hands slack in your lap, trying to breathe through the heaviness sitting on your chest.

“like…actually done?” yunjin says after a moment, her brows furrowed.

“she lied to me,” your throat thickens. “turns out she’s been planning a europe trip with jaewook over the break. she said she was going to leave him, made me believe it. all while booking flights and making dinner reservations.”

the room stills again. giselle’s eyes harden and yunjin sits next to you, her blanket still half-on, half-off, and rests her head on your shoulder. she doesn’t say anything. just that.

ryujin bites her lip. “what the actual fuck,” then disappears into the kitchen and comes back with a half-eaten box of almond pocky. she tosses it in your lap. “you’re gonna need this.”

you snort, barely, but the sound catches in your throat.

giselle walks over and crouches in front of you, one hand on your knee, the other reaching to take your hand. she squeezes gently, like she’s grounding you. maybe she’s always been your anchor and you didn’t notice until now.

“you don’t deserve that,” she assures you, her voice quiet but unwavering. “none of it. not the lies, not the hiding…not being made to feel like a backup plan.”

you blink fast, vision starting to blur. she leans forward and pulls you into a hug. it’s the kind that doesn’t ask for anything back.

“i’m proud of you,” she whispers. “you didn’t wait around for crumbs this time.”

you press your face into her shoulder, throat tight. you don’t cry, not fully, but you feel something loosen as your fingers curl into the fabric of her jumper.

ryujin plops down dramatically on the other side of the couch. “should we start a jimin recovery playlist? i’ve got at least seven breakup bangers that scream ‘i hate you please die’.”

“only seven?” yunjin scoffs. “you’re slacking.”

“i’ve been saving my best material,” she rolls her eyes, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “but don’t worry, we’ll heal your heart with a highly curated mix of charli xcx, revenge fantasy pop and taylor swift if you’re up for it. the spiteful taylor. none of that mature, understanding bullshit.”

you laugh, quietly, but it’s real. the sound feels strange in your mouth, it doesn’t belong to you yet, but it’s something.

yunjin sits up straighter. “and i vote we get drunk next weekend like so drunk you forget jimin’s last name.”

“already forgot it,” you mumble, wiping under your eye with your sleeve. “her name’s karina, remember?”

they all groan in unison.

“disgusting,” ryujin mutters.

“i liked her better when she was just rumoured to be dating that heiress from italy,” yunjin adds, shaking her head. “that era had mystery.”

“we’re not doing eras,” giselle whines, pulling back from the hug but keeping her hand on your arm. “we’re doing healing. and coffee. and maybe a bad horror movie marathon.”

you nod, finally looking at them properly. “thank you.”

you mean it.

giselle smiles. “always.”

the sun has dipped low behind the buildings outside, casting long shadows across the window panes. the wind picks up again, whistling faintly against the glass. winter’s coming in sharp, cold bursts — but in here, in this small flat with its mismatched mugs and blanket piles and people who don’t let you fall apart alone; it feels like you might survive it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

god, you hate this back room. it smells like old denim and the faint lemon of cleaning spray. it’s cramped, cluttered and there are scarves spilling out of bins, old jackets draped over mannequins with missing arms and a stack of shoeboxes taunting you from the corner like they know you haven’t done inventory in weeks. you’re holding a clipboard, pen dangling loosely from your fingers, but you haven’t ticked a single box in the last ten minutes.

taehyung is crouched by the bottom shelf, trying to match a pair of cowboy boots to their brand tags. he keeps making dumb comments under his breath like, “these boots were made for emotionally unavailable women,” or “do you reckon i could pull these off if i dropped out of uni and started busking in hongdae?”

normally, you would laugh. maybe roll your eyes and call him insufferable but you don’t. not today.

“okay,” he says suddenly, standing up and brushing dust off his knees. “no offence, but you’re being kind of a weirdo right now and it’s freaking me out.”

you blink up at him. “i’m doing stocktake.”

“you’ve been counting the same three belts for ten minutes.”

you glance down. this is true. you had forgotten what number you were on.

he tilts his head, crossing his arms loosely. “what’s going on?”

you don’t answer at first. the room’s too small and your throat’s tight like there’s something stuck in it that won’t come loose.

he steps closer. “hey, stop pretending it’s nothing. just tell me.”

you set the clipboard down. slow, like your hands don’t really belong to you. the words come out quieter than you expect. “i ended it.”

he frowns. “with karina?”

you nod. “a few days ago.”

you don’t say anything for a while and neither does he. you pull your sleeves over your hands, wiping your palms against them absently. “i haven’t been sleeping right. or studying. i tried to open my casebook last night and just stared at the table of contents for an hour.”

you swallow. “and she’s still with him. she hasn’t even left him.”

he winces, like he didn’t expect that part. “shit.”

you sit down on one of the old ottomans, exhaling hard through your nose. “you were right…you and everyone else.”

and finally, your voice cracks. “it was just a game to her.”

taehyung moves quickly but gently, crouches in front of you, one knee on the dusty floor. his hands hover awkwardly before landing lightly on your knees.

you laugh, but it breaks midway and turns into a sob. “i feel so fucking stupid.”

your whole body folds in, shoulders quaking. the tears come hard and ugly, the kind you tried to fight for days. you hate crying in front of people, how loud it feels in your ears, how it makes your nose run and your skin feel too thin.

“top of my class,” you mutter bitterly. “but i fall for someone who can’t even be proud of me, who won’t even say my name when other people are around.”

he doesn’t say anything, but wraps his arms around you and holds you to his chest, one hand rubbing circles along your back. he smells like fabric softener and the bakery next door.

you bury your face into his cardigan. he stays quiet, not offering hollow reassurances; just letting you come apart.

and then the bell on the front door rings.

you don’t even look up, but his voice cuts in softly. “hey, give us a sec — oh. it’s you.”

you hear a pause. then his hand gives your shoulder one last squeeze before he pulls back.

“i’ll go get coffee,” he murmurs, standing. “you two talk.”

you sniff and lift your head slightly. standing in the doorway, silhouetted by late afternoon light and soft specks of dust in the air, is sana.

she’s wearing a simple black turtleneck and jeans. her hair’s darker now — dyed black, freshly cut, tucked behind her ears. she looks softer. less like the girl who used to demand attention the second she entered a room and more like the one who made you coffee every morning with a grin on her face.

“hi,” she greets gently. “you look…terrible.”

you try to laugh; it’s shaky.

“thanks,” you croak out, wiping your nose with your sleeve. “great to see you too.”

sana kneels in front of you like taehyung had. she reaches up and brushes your cheeks gently, thumbs catching your tears before they fall again. her touch is light, careful, but not unsure. you didn’t realise how much you missed being touched like that.

“you’re okay,” she assures, more to you than to herself. “you’re okay.”

you shake your head. “i’m a mess.”

“so was i,” she smiles. “after us. you remember?”

you do, of course you do. there were nights she showed up at your door in the middle of the night with swollen eyes and takeout she never touched; the way she apologised for loving you too much, or maybe not in the right way.

you glance up at her again. “you dyed your hair.”

she smiles, brushing a strand behind her ear. “felt like a change.”

“what brings you here?”

“you invited me,” she answrs simply.

you blink. “i did?”

“yeah,” she nods. “you left a note in my laptop case last week. about dinner.”

you remember now — hurried handwriting on a torn bit of paper. you didn’t even think she saw it. you didn’t think anything of it, really.

“when you didn’t reply to my texts after that,” she continued. “i knew something was wrong; unless you wanted to ghost me.”

you drop your gaze again. “it’s been bad.”

“i can tell.”

she reaches for your hand andyou let her take it.

“you don’t have to tell me everything, just…let me be here.”

you don’t say much after that. but maybe you don’t need to. perhaps, just sitting there; knees touching, her thumb tracing the edge of your palm, is enough for now.

sana doesn’t let go of your hand and you don’t pull away. the back room is still, filled with the quiet hum of the overhead light and the distant muffled rhythm of taehyung’s playlist bleeding in from the speakers out front.

you study the edge of her sleeve where it’s fraying a little at the cuff. her thumb keeps brushing back and forth across your palm like she’s absentmindedly trying to smooth out all the jaggedness left behind by the last few months.

“i’m sorry for how i was,” you say quietly.

she looks up at you, but doesn’t interrupt.

“when we ended; i know i wasn’t easy.”

she gives you a small smile, one that tugs gently at the corners of her mouth but doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “neither was i.”

you shake your head, eyes fixed on some scuff mark on the floor. “i used to think you were too good for me, maybe that wasn’t fair.”

“or maybe it was,” she says softly. “i was selfish. i didn’t know how to love without making it about me; it wouldn’t have been the right time anyway.”

your throat tightens again, but not in the same way it did earlier.

“still,” she adds, eyes softening. “i loved you.”

your breath catches in your chest. not from the weight of the words, but the calm way she says them — like she’s not afraid of their shape anymore.

“and honestly, i think part of me always will,” she continues. “but that doesn’t mean you owe me anything.”

you look at her.

her dark hair frames her face in soft waves now, the roots even and glossy, catching little bits of light every time she shifts. her gaze doesn’t falter, not like jimin’s. she isn’t searching your face for permission or forgiveness. she’s just…here.

the same girl who used to bring you croissants and wait outside your tutorials just to drive you home. and the same girl you pushed away.

“i don’t know what i’m doing,” you murmur.

“that makes two of us,” she replies, and finally, finally, it makes you smile.

you lean your head back against the shelf and close your eyes for a moment. somewhere outside, a motorbike revs and a car honks, but it all feels distant, like background noise in someone else’s memory.

sana shifts a little, tucking one knee up as she rests her chin on it. “i know she hurt you.”

you don’t respond.

“and i know it’s not about her anymore. it’s about how much of yourself you gave her, how hard you tried to be enough.”

it’s exactly that; because you bent yourself backwards for a love that never made room for you; because you believed that if you just waited, if you just held on longer, maybe you would be chosen.

“you don’t have to fix it overnight,” she squeezes your hand. “you just have to get through today. and then tomorrow.”

you open your eyes.

“what if i don’t want to feel anything anymore?”

“then feel nothing. just let your body sit and exist. i’ll be here either way.”

you don’t realise you’re crying again until she gently reaches up to wipe at your cheeks, thumbs warm and steady.

you sniff and laugh a little through it. “i’m gross.”

“you’re beautiful,” she reminds you and she doesn’t say it like a line.

you exhale shakily, chest rising and falling with the slow rhythm of finally letting yourself be held together instead of holding it all in.

you nod, almost imperceptibly. “hey, you want to help me count shoes?”

she laughs. “only if you let me keep the jelly sandals in a size too small.”

you roll your eyes. “deal.”

she gets up first, tugging your hand gently until you follow. the world outside is still there, still cold, still complicated. but for now, you’re in this small, overstuffed back room that smells like dust and history and maybe a little bit of burnt vanilla and gasoline station perfume, standing next to someone who knows how to hold space.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the place is nothing like the places you usually go to…unless you were with she-who-can’t-be-named. the lighting is low and gold-toned like everything’s been dipped in honey. even the chairs feel too generous.

you watch sana from across the table. she’s dressed like it didn’t take her any effort at all —high-waisted trousers and a cashmere coat, hair tucked behind her ears, her lipstick a subtle red that hasn’t smudged even after sipping from her wine glass.

she knows which fork to use and she talks to the waiter like she’s done this a hundred times. maybe she has.

it makes you sit a little straighter without realising.

“you’re really leaning into this chaebol heiress look,” you say, trying to sound amused, though your tone comes out a bit too dry.

she blinks at you, then smiles. “i’m not leaning into anything. this is just how i grew up.”

you frown slightly. “i thought your family did real estate?”

“they do,” she replies, lightly tearing off a piece of bread, “and hotels. and department stores. and resorts.“

you stop mid-chew, jaw tightening slowly. “wait, like…multiple?”

“yeah,” she answers, dipping her bread into olive oil. “we don’t really talk about it unless we need to.”

you set your knife down. you feel suddenly underdressed, under qualified and under-everything.

she gives you a knowing look. “don’t look at me like that. you already know half of yonsei’s student body is secretly the next chaebol generation. taehyung’s family owns half the city and we all get jewellery from irene’s family.”

you nod. “right.”

you knew taehyung was rich because his card never gets declined and he doesn’t flinch at 500,000 won bar tabs for two people but you didn’t realise how many of your classmates were sitting on invisible thrones.

in the years you knew her, sana was never flashy.

you laugh a little, pressing your water glass to your lips just to cool your face. “this explains why everyone’s so casually unbothered all the time.”

she chuckles, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “that’s just generational wealth and no student loans.”

the food arrives slowly, each dish set down like a performance. truffle pasta, scallop carpaccio, slices of bread still warm from the oven. you focus on the steam rising from your plate, hoping the heat might settle something in your chest.

sana makes a few jokes about the menu being in italian and the wine being impossible to pronounce. she’s easy to talk to, even when your brain won’t stop whirring.

you’re almost halfway through your meal when you notice her hand pause halfway to her wine glass.

you look up.

her gaze is fixed over your shoulder, her expression suddenly unreadable.

“shit,” she mutters.

you turn.

and there they are.

karina, in a long charcoal coat and glossy black boots, walking side by side with jaewook, who’s grinning at something she just said. they don’t see you at first. you could turn around and stay quiet and pretend this isn’t happening.

but you don’t.

she looks around, her eyes landing on you.

her steps are slow and then she stops entirely. jaewook turns, confused, until his eyes find yours. his face lights up in that smug, entitled way you always hated; like nothing touches him.

sana shifts beside you, her fingers curling slightly against her wine glass. “we can leave.”

you glance at her, then shake your head. “no,” your voice is steady and it surprises you. “i’m fine.”

you place your hand over hers, her knuckles are cold. you squeeze gently.

jaewook approaches with a glint in his eye that makes your stomach twist. “well, well, so it’s you and sana after all.”

you don’t reply.

he leans forward slightly, his tone low and amused. “and you made such a show of denying her in the car.”

you don’t look at karina. you can feel her there, just behind him, still silent.

“have a good night,” you immediately shut the conversation down, keeping your voice clipped and neutral.

he laughs. “don’t worry, i will.”

karina steps forward and grabs his arm, her voice low. “don’t be such an ass — let’s go.”

he lets himself be led away, still grinning.

you stare down at your plate, your appetite’s gone. you hear the clinking of plates, a burst of laughter from the next table, the hum of a song you don’t recognise.

sana moves again, drawing your eyes back to her. her gaze is steady. “tell me about your parents,” she says gently, reminding you that you’re still here. “how are they?”

you sigh. “they’re okay. mum’s still watching every cooking show on earth and dad sends me weather updates from our town like i don’t have the same forecast app.”

she smiles. “that sounds comforting.”

“it is.”

she asks you what countries you would want to visit, you tell her about a childhood obsession with iceland and the way you used to look up glacier hikes online. she tells you about getting snowed in at a ryokan in sapporo and how magical it was. she’s trying, you realise. not to distract you…but to pull you back toward something that isn’t about them.

and for a while, it works. you laugh. really laugh. you lean forward and wipe your mouth with your napkin and let her smile reach you.

before dessert, you excuse yourself quietly, slipping into the bathroom down the hall. the marble counters feel too clean as you stare at yourself for a while, adjusting your hair even though there’s nothing wrong with it.

your cheeks are flushed, your lips are still a little red — you look fine.

but your chest feels tight because sana’s waiting outside and she’s perfect and patient and real, and you want to want her cleanly. fully. without looking over your shoulder.

but you’re not there yet.

and it doesn’t help that the bathroom is too quiet.

you run the tap but don’t wash your hands — just listen to the sound of it, trying to pace your breathing against the rhythm of the water. there’s something behind your eyes that’s ready to crack open if you let it.

there’s a faint crease on your cheek from where you leaned on your hand earlier. your eyes look swollen with too many nights of half-sleep and too many mornings where you woke up already bracing for the weight of the day.

sana had looked at you with so much patience over dinner; her smile came without conditions. she was there; not watching the door or distracted.

definitely not waiting for someone else to call her away.

and yet, when jaewook and jimin walked in, your body still betrayed you and your thoughts still unravelled in the space between their footsteps and the sound of sana’s voice trying to bring you back.

the marble is cold under your fingertips as you grip the edge of the sink. you don’t know what to do with this.

you don’t know what to do with the way sana makes you feel calm and seen and steady; and how karina still manages to set off something just beneath your ribs that feels like longing — or regret — or something worse.

it’s not fair to sana; not when she’s still in there, probably sipping her wine and pretending the lump in your throat didn’t appear the moment karina’s eyes met yours.

you fix your hair slowly, smoothing it behind your ears, avoiding your reflection now.

the door swings open and your breath stops because you know the weight of that presence before you even lift your head.

karina doesn’t say anything right away. the silence is dense — so dense you could carve into it with a knife. you feel her watching you through the mirror, like she’s trying to will you to turn around.

you keep your hands steady, adjusting the collar of your shirt. you don’t want this…not here, not like this.

“have you been fucking her all along?”

the question cuts through the quiet so abruptly that for a second, you think you misheard her. but the cold in her voice is unmistakable as if she’s furious and doesn’t know where to put it.

you turn slowly, meeting her eyes.

she’s standing near the door, jaw set, her hands curled into tight fists at her sides. her eyes are glassy and it makes something twist inside you —because you remember what it feels like to be the reason for that look.

you remember nights when she stared at you the same way, but with tenderness instead of suspicion.

you shake your head at her. “don’t do that.”

“don’t do what?” she spits, stepping closer. “don’t ask questions you clearly don’t want to answer?”

“this isn’t your business anymore.”

her breathing is shallow; she swallows hard. her eyes flicker across your face like she’s searching for something to hold onto.

“you told me you wanted me to choose you,” she continues, voice faltering. “so here i am. ready to choose you. just say it. tell me what to do and i’ll fucking do it.”

you heave out a sigh, but it doesn’t steady you. “you had months, karina.”

“i was scared.”

“so was i!”

“then tell me it’s not too late,” she pleads, stepping forward again. “please tell me there’s still a version of this where i get to have you.”

you close your eyes. for one second; just one.

because this is what she does — she comes back only when you’ve just started to walk away…when the part of you that loved her most has grown quiet enough to let something new begin.

you open your eyes and there she is. just her. small and stubborn and heartbreakingly soft in front of you.

and still — you know better.

“i can’t keep being your almost,” you whisper. “i can’t keep waiting for you to be proud of me in public.”

she looks like she’s about to cry. her mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

you don’t know what else to say.

and then suddenly, behind her — another voice. steady, but sharp with interruption.

“what’s going on?”

you turn around just as sana walks in. she stops when she sees karina. her posture stiffens, like she’s debating whether to walk right back out again.

her eyes flick to you, then back to her. she doesn’t smile. “am i interrupting something?”

but no one answers. not right away.

because you’re still caught between them: one who haunts and one who holds — and for a brief, suffocating moment, you don’t know which way to move.

the silence barely lasts a breath. barely long enough for you to decide because sana’s eyes don’t move from karina’s. there’s nothing timid about her now — none of the teasing charm she wore like perfume over dinner; her jaw is tight. when she steps forward, it’s with the kind of composure that makes your stomach twist.

“you don’t get to do this here,” sana firmly starts, voice low but steady. “not in some bathroom while your fucking boyfriend’s sipping wine two tables away.”

the other girl doesn’t answer immediately. she’s still breathing unevenly, still staring at you like you’re something slipping through her fingers and now she can’t quite figure out how you got this far without her.

she turns toward sana, her voice sharp. “this doesn’t involve you.”

“it does; the second you made her cry on my couch, the second you let her walk away thinking it was her fault. it absolutely involves me.”

your heart’s thudding against your ribs as you try to ground yourself in its coldness. you hate this. the closeness of it, the fluorescent lighting, the way their voices bounce off tile walls and make everything feel louder than it is.

“you think this is about you?” karina snaps. “you think you just get to show up again and erase everything we had?”

sana crosses her arms. “i’m not erasing anything. you did that all on your own.”

your eyes flick between them, your head ringing with the pressure of too many thoughts trying to speak at once.

karina’s lips are trembling now, her eyes red, her hands flexing uselessly by her sides. she looks like she’s holding something in — rage or regret, you can’t tell. she shakes her head, tongue pressed against the inside of her cheek like she’s holding something in.

“you think you’re so much better than me,” she mutters. “but you weren’t there.”

“no,” sana replies, stepping further into the room. “because she didn’t want me there. she wanted you. and what did you do? you left her waiting. you told her things you had no intention of following through with. and then you paraded your boyfriend around like she was the mistake.”

karina looks at you again. her voice is lower now. “you think she’s better for you?”

you swallow hard, refusing to answer. because the truth is, you don’t know.

sana doesn’t make you feel like you have to shrink to be loved, she doesn’t hide you nor weigh her affection with conditions…but she’s not who your heart pulled toward first.

and that’s the problem. maybe the worst thing about it all — that the heart doesn’t care if the hands it longs for have already dropped it.

“she sees me,” you manage, finally. “she doesn’t make me feel like i’m not enough.”

you can’t breathe.

next to you, karina says quietly: “i don’t know how to let you go.”

and it hits you harder than it should.

because that’s the one thing you’ve always known about her — she doesn’t say the truth until it’s already been buried under rubbles of silence.

“you should’ve thought of that before choosing your boyfriend,” sana snaps this time, stepping between you and karina now. “you don’t get to mourn her like you didn’t help break her.”

you take a shaky breath and force your voice to work. “can we just — ” you stop, then try again. “sana.”

her head turns to you immediately, eyes softening.

you don’t know what expression is on your face, but it makes her take a half-step toward you. “hey,” she murmurs, already shifting her posture, “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have —”

“can we go home?” you cut her off. “i don’t want dessert anymore.”

she nods without hesitation.

“of course.”

you turn toward the door, but not before catching karina’s expression. she looks stricken, as if you just took something from her that she never thought you would actually keep for yourself.

part of you wants to say something to soften it. tell her you’re not choosing sides, not really. you’re just choosing peace; but there’s nothing you could say that wouldn’t pull you back in.

so you walk out.

sana trails behind you silently.

your hand brushes hers once as you make your way through the dining room. she doesn’t try to hold it — doesn’t reach — but you feel the warmth of her beside you, steady and quiet and grounding.

you don’t look back, don’t think you ever will.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

vi. i need to want something more (coming)

#kpop x reader #heliooosss #kpop gg #aespa x reader #kpop imagines #aespa imagines #karina #karina imagines #angst #karina x reader #aespa #sana x reader #minatozaki sana

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flwrstqr · 1 year ago

Text

CALL ME YOURS !! (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS: ever since you broke up with your ex, choi jiho, who cheated on you with another girl, you have always wanted to get revenge. when you meet jiho again at school, to prove you were over him and had met a better man, you told him you were meeting someone. you lied and told him you were meeting a random guy who you pointed at on your school's bulletin board for being the top student in the whole school. coincidentally, that guy was lee heeseung, known for his quiet and smart personality. then jiho demands to meet him in real life, hand-in-hand with you, which now you have a huge problem. first, you have to find heeseung, and next, you have to date him.

pairing: topstudent!heeseung x popularstudentfem!reader

genre: fake dating, s2l, romance, high school au, sunshine x cold

warning(s): reader + heeseung being in denial, your ex cheated, kissing, inspired by a k-drama (i forgot which one), two of them being awfully awkward at first, swearing, grammar errors, party, lots of love confusions, does say that winter is dating beomgyu, punching, fighting

word count: 7k

AN: guys im back with a long au, i never really write long aus, so this is slightly new to me. i did proofread it but not super thoroughly so if i made any mistakes, my bad for that .

taglist: @yenqa @mylstserenade @jlheon @naespas @jooniesbears-blog @erehkinnie30 @wonifullove @miumiuisme @shawnyle @dimplewonie @beomluvrr @jiaant11 @teddywonss

ALL YOU WANTED WAS REVENGE. Sweet revenge against your idiotic ex, Choi Jiho.You remember the moment you walked into the girls locker room to go deliver something to your PE coach, only to find the room “empty”. It hit you like a ton of bricks when you stumbled upon Jiho, locking lips with your “supposed” best friend, Kim Haeun, in the girl’s locker room Lip on lip, eyes closed, moving in sync. Heart shattered, tears streaming, you bolted, tripping over a basket of equipment and scraping your knees quickly catching attention of Jiho. His voice trailed after you, calling your name as you fled into the distance.

Losing both your best friend and your boyfriend cut deep. Being single was one thing, but being unable to find anyone who measured up to Jiho was another.

"YN, your standards for men are too high!" Karina remarked from the bleachers during PE.

You shrugged. "They've always been high." For the past 4 months, no one was your type compared to Jiho, the perfect boyfriend in your eyes: tall, handsome, a football player, rich, and occasionally nice.

"It's because of that disgusting asshole," Ningning scoffed.

"He isn't disgusting!" you retorted.

"YN, you need to get over him. This is just becoming toxic, plus you dumped him in front of the whole school ," Giselle chimed in. She was right. You vividly recalled the moment, twenty minutes before the bell, eyes swollen from crying all night but disguised behind makeup, replaying yesterday's scene you witnessed in your mind.

"YN!" Jiho's voice snapped you back to reality, his figure rushing towards you.

"Can we talk?" he asked, breathless.

"Talk about how you fucking cheated on me? Fine, I'll hear you out," you yelled, drawing everyone's attention.

"Can you keep it down, YN?" Jiho snapped.

"Sure I’ll quiet it down when I want to. Go to your girlfriend, Haeun. Why does she have to be my best friend, out of all people?" you glared.

"YN, let's talk inside," Jiho groaned, irritated.

"No, we're done. I never wanted you anyway, you asshole. Just fuck off," you spat, the words stinging even as they left your mouth The next thing you knew the scene spreaded like wildfire at school.

"Are you okay?" Minjeong asked as you sobbed at the lunch table.

"Listen, YN, Jiho wasn't worth it. You saw what you saw," Karina tried to console.

"I don't know... it's just over now," you murmured, head in your hands.

"Maybe it's a sign to find someone better," Ningning suggested.

"I don't know..." you whispered, feeling lost, unable to move on.

“I’m for sure there’s someone way better than him.” Giselle added (biggest lie you ever heard).

MONTHS PASSED AND YOU FOUND YOURSELF IN THE LIBRARY, lending a hand to the librarian in organizing books before school started. As you went about your duties, dropping off books and preparing to fetch more, the one and only, Jiho, stood by the school bulletin board waiting for you. It had been months since the breakup, and yet, the wound was still fresh, a constant reminder of the pain (really yn..)

"I wanted to say a word," Jiho awkwardly mumbled, eyeing you for a reaction, his hands in his pockets.

You reluctantly agreed, "Fine, make it quick. I'm busy."

"I broke up with Haeun," he stated, the words hanging in the air.

"What?" Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"I ended things with Kim Haeun," he said more firmly. His words sank in, but confusion lingered. But why was he telling you this now? Then it hit you—he wanted you back. Yet, on a day when you missed him, you suddenly felt nothing. He had left you for another girl (well, technically, you dumped him), betrayed you, and now he came back because you were his second choice?

"Why are you telling me this?" You managed to maintain calm.

"I still like you, YN LN," he confessed, causing your eyes to widen. You bit your lip, before you could accept his confession like your 5 minute ago self would. Your heart didn’t thump like it did when you were around him. Your hands weren’t sweaty like they were when he looked at you before. Your mind wasn’t racing like it was when Jiho confessed to you for the first time, months ago. It was nothing like any of that–you just felt empty and cold.

"I'm seeing someone," you blurted out, realizing the lie you had just said. Crossing your fingers, you hoped he wouldn't ask about the identity of your "so-said boyfriend"

"Who?" he inquired, raising his eyebrow. Desperately searching for an excuse, your eyes landed on the bulletin board, displaying a list of top students and their ID photos.

Rushing over, you pointed at the first photo and name you saw, "That guy," you said, reading his name, "...Lee Heeseung! I'm dating him."

"Oh, really?" Jiho cast a skeptical glance between you and the photo, a smirk playing on his lips. "Then," he leaned in closer, "how about you introduce me to him, hand-in-hand, next week? I want to see if he's worthy of you." Panic rushed in you, and your throat went dry. You forced a smile and nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Sure," you replied.

"Great, see you next week," Jiho said, turning and walking away. You were officially doomed. Now, you have to find this Lee Heeseung and give him a deal.

YOU WANDERED DURING LUNCH, TRYING TO FIND HEESEUNG. You only heard about him because he got a perfect score on the hardest SAT exams, but you didn't really pay attention.

"Heeseung? Sorry, I don’t know who he is," a girl replied when you asked her about Heeseung.

"It's okay," you smiled politely and left, feeling frustrated.

"I'll never find him," you groaned to Karina, who was with you while you asked everyone about Heeseung.

"Why did you lie to Jiho then? I thought you weren’t over him. Last night, you were giggling at how cute Jiho is and how much you want him back," Karina asked, taking a bite of her apple.

"I don’t know. He was just using me. I knew it because he and Haeun broke up," you explained, letting out a soft sigh. "He saw me as a second option, and I got into this mess because I lied to him about having a boyfriend who's probably some ugly nerd."

"I told you he was using you the entire time! But you didn’t trust me!" Karina scolded you.

"Sorry, I was just blind back then," you mumbled.

Before your last attempt, you walked up to a boy and asked the same question you’d been asking everyone.

"Do you know Lee Heeseung by any chance?" you asked. The boy's eyes widened, and a big grin spread across his face.

"Yes, I do! For what reason?" the boy quickly replied. For the first time, someone knew who he was.

"Do you know where he is then?" you inquired, hoping he could help.

"I do. I’m close friends with him. Come, I’ll show you where he is," the boy replied as you followed him, waving to Karina goodbye.

As the two of you awkwardly made up the long staircase, you arrived at the rooftop of the school. When the boy opened the door, a lonely figure sat by the table, reading a book.

"Heeseung!" the boy called out, causing the figure, supposedly Heeseung, to turn around.

"What, Jungwon?" Heeseung raised his eyebrow, quickly glancing at you and then back at Jungwon.

"YN was looking for you," Jungwon quickly said, nudging you to speak. Heeseung obviously knew who you were, known for dating Jiho and your soft-delicate visuals.

You walked towards him awkwardly, “Uhm…can we talk privately?” Slightly glancing at Jungwon, signaling him to leave quietly. As Jungwon left quietly, you cleared your throat.

“So…” you started off a bit nervous, “I need some help?”

"What help?" Heeseung answered a bit coldly, “If it’s anything studying related, I’m not interested-”

"I need help dating," you blurted, realizing what you had just said.

"What?" Heeseung gave you a puzzled look, "Dating what?"

"I lied to Jiho. Okay, I don’t have interest in you or even Jiho. I lied to him saying that I’m meeting you," you spilled the news. Heeseung had an empty look on his face as you tried to read his expression.

“Why me?” Heeseung arched his eyebrow.

“You were the first name I saw,” you explained, “So can you fake date me? I need it, please,” you pleaded, hoping he would accept your request.

"No, I’m not interested," he turned around, quickly getting his book to start reading again. Your jaw dropped, no one had ever rejected you like that.

"What?" you spat, feeling terrible that you got rejected for the first time.

"I’m not interested in you or in dating. So, I strongly believe that I shouldn’t do it," he said, quickly focusing his attention on his book.

“I’ll do anything!” you begged, feeling desperate.

"Anything?" Heeseung quickly averted his attention to you, dropping his book slightly to make eye contact with you.

"Yes, anything. I’ll do anything," you replied, hoping he would accept it.

"Then introduce me to her," Heeseung answered. You looked confused.

"Who's her?" you raised your eyebrow.

Heeseung’s cheek slightly blushed, it was the first time you saw him so embarrassed. “Karina,” he mumbled under his breath. Suddenly it clicked—he was interested in Karina, your best friend.

You gave an eager look, “Deal! I’ll introduce you to her after all of the fake dating.” You pulled out your hand.

"Deal," Heeseung replied, shaking your hand.

A FEW DAYS LATER, YOU FIND YOURSELF in the convenience store, an unexpected place for someone like you—a popular girl to be at. Your outfit was simpler than usual, baggy gray sweats and a white tank top, with your hair thrown up in a messy high ponytail and an oversized jacket completing the look.

You scan the snack aisle, contemplating your choices, when the doorbell chimes, signaling a customer had entered. Your heart thumps as you recognize the last person you expected to encounter—Heeseung. He's dressed in simple gray sweatpants and a black hoodie, his messy hair somehow adding to his charm.

Your eyes lock momentarily before you both awkwardly shuffle towards each other. "What brings you here?" you ask, surprised to find him in a convenience store at 2 am.

"Why are you up so late?" he counters, swiftly turning the interrogation on you.

"I couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?" you reply.

"Studying," he responds matter-of-factly, grabbing an energy drink before swiftly checking out and leaving. You hurry after him, catching up as he strides down the street.

"Studying late? That's a first," you mutter to yourself, gazing up at the night sky.

"I don’t want to flunk my classes, unlike you," he retorts, avoiding your gaze.

"I'm not that hopeless," you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, you are," he quips, taking a sip of his drink.

"Hey!" you playfully threaten, pulling back your arm as if to hit him. But then something unexpected happens—you catch sight of Heeseung's smile, genuine and endearing. You quickly shake off any wayward thoughts; after all, you're just his so-called “girlfriend”.

"Where do you live?" you inquire, trying to change the subject.

"Stalker much?" Heeseung teases.

"Shut up," you retort, rolling your eyes.

"I live in the house near the college," he answers, disposing of his empty can.

"Do you walk to school?" you ask, trying to prolong the conversation.

"Yeah," he replies.

"Then... do you want to walk together tomorrow?" you suggest, stopping in the quiet and empty streets.

"Walk together?" he repeats, surprised.

You nod and quickly add, "Yeah, you know, for you know..."

Heeseung considers for a moment before agreeing, "Sure."

"Great! I'll come by your place at 7 am since school starts at 7:30!" you smile, remembering to ask for his number. He inserts it into your phone, adding, "Don't blow up my phone."

"I'm not that obsessed with you," you retort.

"I think you are," he jokes.

"In your dreams," you shoot back.

YOU FOUND YOURSELF STANDING OUTSIDE Heeseung's door, feeling an awkward knot tighten in your stomach as you waited, fingers fidgeting nervously. After what seemed like hours, the door swung open to reveal a woman, likely Heeseung's mother.

"Hi, who are you?" she inquired, her eyes curious but welcoming.

"I'm YN LN," you replied, managing a warm smile despite your nerves. "A friend of Heeseung's."

"Heeseung's friend?" Her expression softened into a delighted grin. "I didn't realize Heeseung had such a pretty friend. I'm Heeseung's mother. Just call me Mrs. Lee."

"Mom..." Heeseung's voice interrupted, his presence suddenly beside you as he quickly shuffled to put on his shoes.

"Heeseung, she seems like a sweet and pretty girl," Mrs. Lee remarked before Heeseung darted, closing the door behind him before his mother could say anything else.

"Your mother seems really nice," you commented, attempting to ease the tension.

"Mhm," Heeseung mumbled, his attention already diverted to his book that he quickly pulled out from his backpack.

With a pointed look, you reached out your hand, silently urging him to remember.

Heeseung sighed, rolling his eyes in mild exasperation, but he relented, tucking the book away and clasping your hand in his. The touch sent a jolt through you, a feeling you couldn't quite grasp.

"So..." you began, eager to break the silence. "Where's your class?"

"Class 3-B," he replied shortly, his gaze fixed ahead as if unwilling to meet your eyes.

"Mine's right next door." you exclaimed, hoping to inject some enthusiasm into the conversation. "Perfect! Do you know what this means?"

"What?" Heeseung's response was clipped, his tone guarded.

"That I can come over to your class during lunch!" you declared with a wide grin, trying to lighten the mood.

"I eat on the rooftop, alone." he added, emphasizing the word alone.

"Ah, I forget you’re a loner," you teased gently.

"At least I'm productive with my free time," he retorted.

"Well, today we're together!" you suggested brightly and then with a smirk you whispered, "And I can introduce you to... Karina." The mention of your best friend's name made Heeseung blush slightly.

"Shut up," he groaned, moving to cover your mouth with his free hand just in case you would say anything else.

"Like I want to-" feeling a sudden hard squeeze in your hand "Ow..."

"Now shut up before I squeeze harder," Heeseung warned, though there was a hint of genuine threat in his tone.

"You're no fun," you muttered. Eventually, you arrived at the school, fingers still intertwined as you drew curious whispers from the hallway.

"YN and Heeseung, dating? No way..." you heard a girl whisper by the lockers, causing a flush of embarrassment to color your cheeks. When you reached Heeseung's classroom, you reluctantly released his hand, noticing the tension in his posture as he leaned against the doorframe.

"See you later?" you asked, "I'll be on the rooftop during break."

"Alright..." Heeseung's response was hesitant, but then came an unexpected word that caught you off guard. "...baby." The pet name hung in the air.

"R-right... anyway, bye..." you stammered, feeling a rush of different emotions. You'd been in relationships before, but you were never so flustered for such small things like that. Could it be... you weren't falling for him, right?

HEESEUNG SETTLED AT THE EMPTY TABLE on the rooftop, his gaze drifting across the school grounds. The rooftop held a special meaning for him, offering a quiet place to read, barely visited by others.

“Heeseung!” Your voice sliced through the silence, drawing his attention. He glanced up to see you approaching, two lunches in hand.

With a bright grin, you placed the meals in front of him. “I brought lunch!”

"Thanks," Heeseung replied , his tone cool as he examined the homemade kimbap. As you both sat down, awkwardness settled between you, by the avoidance of eye contact.

Summoning his courage, Heeseung brought a question that had lingered in his mind for months. "Why did you like Choi Jiho?"

Your eyes widened at the unexpected, catching you off guard. You paused, hesitating with how to respond.Memories of Jiho flooded your mind. You had forgotten about him for the past 4 days due to Heeseung being on your mind 24/7.

You cleared your throat, summoning a bitter lie to your lips. "I... uh, he was nice, I guess."

"Did Jiho even like you back?" Heeseung's question cut through the air. That’s when you realized something. You remembered the way Jiho would never defend you in any moment or barely spend time with you. And the time when he did? He would always be on his phone. You realized how stupid you were as you thought the moments where he just wanted attention from the public by kissing you or flirting with you meant that he loved you.

"I... I don't know," you admitted. Deep down, you knew the painful reality—that Jiho had used you.

"Oh, okay..." Heeseung responded, sensing the weight of your words. "So, let's change the top—"

"I know he didn't like me," you interjected, your gaze drifting to the sky before meeting Heeseung's gaze. "I know he was the worst boyfriend I could ask for."

Confusion flickered across Heeseung's features at your sudden confession.

"I was blind. I regret it," you murmured, your gaze falling to your lap. "But it's in the past."

Heeseung regarded you with his usual stern and cold look. "Then why did you tell Jiho you were meeting someone else?"

"Because... I wanted to prove I was happier now," you muttered, grappling with your tumultuous emotions.

"Are you?" Heeseung's gaze bore into yours.

"I... I think I am," you replied

"You 'think'?" Heeseung pressed, his tone firm.

"I'm happier than before," you insisted, though the vagueness of your answer hung in the air.

"That's not specific," Heeseung challenged.

"I can't be specific," you confessed, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "Because I don't know, at all."

"Are you sure?" Heeseung persisted.

"Heeseung, it's my feelings, yes I'm sure," you asserted.

"I'm just physically and mentally curious, so it allured me to—" Heeseung began, but you cut him off.

"Okay, I think that's enough. The bell's going to ring soon. Text me later!" With that, you rose abruptly, snatching your lunch bag and offering a quick wave before descending the stairs back to class.

HEESEUNG LAY ON HIS BED, staring up at the ceiling. He knew he should be studying, but your words about Jiho lingered in his mind. "I'm happier than before." Why was he even pondering such things? Lost in thought, he was jolted back to reality by a faint buzz from his phone. Retrieving it, he found a message from you.

YN LN: heeseung!! all my friends rejected me to go to the mall TT, so wanna go together?? ><

Heeseung paused, a moment of surprise flashing across his features. You were asking him to go to the mall with you? It felt almost like you were asking him out. He composed himself and replied:

Heeseung: Sure. Send location and time, I’ll be there.

Putting down his phone, he realized the weight of his agreement. He had just agreed to go on a date with you. And now, he needed to get ready. Hastily, he rummaged through his closet, seeking out a suitable outfit. Opting for his lone stylish varsity jacket paired with jeans, he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tidy it up.

Rushing to the mall, he found you leaning against a store wall, your attention fixed on your phone. As he approached, a cupid seemed to strike him with an arrow as his cheeks flushed. The simplicity of your outfit and the gentle cascade of your hair rendered you utterly captivating.

You looked up, catching sight of Heeseung's slightly stunned expression, and greeted him with a warm smile, gesturing for him to join you.

"Hi," Heeseung muttered, still awestruck by your beauty.

"Hi!" you returned the greeting with equal warmth. "I just need to buy some makeup for my friends, or maybe myself, and possibly shop around! Anything you need?"

"Not necessarily," Heeseung replied, scanning the mall.

"Okay then, follow me," you said, seizing his arm and leading him to the nearest makeup store. Arriving at the lip product section, you perused the selection of lipsticks, lip glosses, and lip tints. Grabbing a random lip tint, you turned to Heeseung.

"Can I try it on you? I need to see if it looks good on a person," you suggested.

"What? When did I sign up for this?" Heeseung sighed.

"Please," you pleaded, giving him your best pout. "I can erase it right after."

"Fine."

With careful precision, you applied the tint to his lips. The warmth of his breath brushed against your cheeks and neck, sending a flurry of sensations through you. Your heart raced as you admired his perfectly shaped lips, now tinted with color. After smoothing out any unevenness, you stepped back to admire the look.

"Hmm... I think this works," you concluded, grabbing the new tint to go check out and pay for it.

YOU SAVORED THE SWEET TASTE OF vanilla ice cream as you took a bite, sitting side by side with Heeseung on the bench outside the convenient store where you first met. He listened attentively as you shared stories about your friends and family.

"And then Giselle told me—" Your sentence was cut short as Heeseung's fingers delicately wiped a smudge of ice cream from the corner of your lips.

"Mhm?" He hummed softly, encouraging you to continue. Your heart fluttered at his touch, beating rapidly in your chest.

"...y-yeah," you stammered, trying to regain your composure, your gaze drifting to the hues of the sunset painting the sky in shades of blue and orange.

"Are you done with your story?" Heeseung inquired, to which you nodded hastily. You weren't finished, but another word might turn you into a flustered mess.

After a brief silence, you suggested, "How about we go for a walk by the Han River?" Heeseung agreed with a nod, and soon you found yourselves strolling side by side along the riverbank, the gentle sound of water trickling in the background adding to the peaceful atmosphere.

Unexpectedly, Heeseung asked, "Are you going to the dance?" It was a question he wouldn't normally ask.

"The dance?" you raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his inquiry.

"Yeah, the school dance?" Heeseung clarified, his expression tinged with skepticism.

"Oh, well, yeah," you replied, feeling a pang of disappointment as you remembered his feelings for Karina. He didn't like you, so why did you allow yourself to hope for something more?

"Is Karina going?" Heeseung continued, and you struggled to find your voice, your throat suddenly dry.

"O-oh, uhm, I think she's going..." you managed to say, the reality of your situation crashing down on you like a wave. Foolish fantasies had consumed you for the past five days, but now you bit your lip to stave off the embarrassment and tears threatening to surface.

"I think I'm tired. I'm gonna go home now. Bye, Heeseung," you forced a small smile before turning away, walking in the opposite direction. Heeseung watched you go, a confused expression clouding his features as you moved farther and farther away.

LEANING AGAINST THE WALL, you found yourself lost in thoughts of Heeseung, the person who was on your mind day in and day out. Why did it bother you so much if he had feelings for your best friend, Karina? Why did his presence hold such sway over you?

"YN?" Winter's voice broke through your trail of thoughts,snapping you back to reality.

"Oh, sorry, I was zoning out," you replied, trying to shake off the distraction.

"You've been distant all day. Is everything okay?" Ningning's concern was evident in her voice.

"Just tired, didn't get much sleep last night," you reassured them with a forced smile, hoping they wouldn't press further.

"Are you sure?" Giselle's skepticism lingered, her gaze searching yours.

"It's nothing, just life being complicated," you offered, trying to reassure their worries.

"If you need to talk, we're here for you," Karina chimed in, her comforting touch on your hands a familiar gesture she usually did. How you longed to confess and tell them about Heeseung and the jumble of emotions you felt and fought with, but the fear of ruining your relationships with both him and Karina kept you quiet.

At that moment, it came to you: you were in love with Heeseung. It had to be a mistake right? You could never like someone like Heeseung. The way your heart thumped when Heeseung did small actions like hold your hand or even wipe off anything from your mouth.

Yet, you couldn't shake the fear, the fear of history repeating itself with someone like Jiho, selfish and foolish. What was the point of falling for someone who didn't accept your feelings and liked someone else

HEESEUNG HAD REHEARSED EVERY WORD, every breath, for the moment he would finally summon the courage to ask you out for dinner. With trembling fingers, he reached for his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. The weight of his nerves pressed down on him as he prepared to take the risk.

As the phone rang, his heart raced, the sound of your voice on the other end sending a jumble of emotions through him "Hello?" you answered, your voice like music and beauty to his ears.

"Hi..." Heeseung replied, his voice betraying his unease.

"Why did you call me?" you asked, curiosity tinged but yet your voice sounded heavy and drained. Heeseung couldn't help but notice the change in your tone for the past days, wondering if he had somehow caused it. Had he done something wrong?

"I was just wondering if... uhm... you wanted to go get dinner tonight together?" Heeseung's voice faltered slightly, the weight of his question hanging in the air.

"Dinner tonight?" Your voice held a hint of confusion, but there was also a spark of interest. "When and where?" you inquired.

"At the Japanese place down the block, at 6?" Heeseung suggested, hoping you would agree.

"Sure, I'll see you at 6 then," you replied, your voice brightening slightly.

"Right, anyways, bye!" Heeseung quickly ended the call, a rush of happiness coursing through him. He had done it. He asked you out for dinner.

With a sense of pride, Heeseung flopped onto his bed, his phone resting on his chest as. a wide grin spread across his face. He replayed the conversation in his mind, excited for the evening of day.

Meanwhile, on the other end of the line, you couldn't contain your excitement. Heeseung. Lee Heeseung. had. Asked. you. out. to. dinner. You, YN LN. You couldn't help but squeal with delight into your pillow.

Eager to make a good impression, you jumped out of bed and rushed to your closet, rummaging through your clothes in search of the perfect outfit for the occasion.

HEESEUNG SAT NERVOUSLY, tapping the table as he waited for you to arrive. Within minutes, you rushed in and quickly spotted him.

"Hi!" you greeted with a smile, settling down at the table.

"Hi," he smiled back (inside you felt a flutter at how cute his smile was). You both looked at the menu and ordered as the waiter approached. After eating, you quietly walked outside, enjoying the cool evening air.

The dark, cloudless sky revealed a glimmering array of stars. You admired the view, unaware that Heeseung was watching you, captivated by your beauty.

"The stars are so pretty," you remarked in awe.

"Mhm," he replied, still focused on you. Suddenly, you felt his fingers gently tuck a stray hair behind your ear. Your face flushed as butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

"I have a question, YN..." Heeseung began, and you turned to him, curious.

"Do you... want to go to the dance?" he asked. Your heart raced, your stomach churned, and your head spun. He had just asked you to the dance.

"T-the dance?" you stuttered.

"Yeah... I mean, just as... you know, for visual purposes," he tried to clarify.

"Right..." you nodded, agreeing. "I'll go with you." Heeseung's face lit up with a big grin as you accepted his invitation.

"That's great! I'll, um... see you at the dance then," Heeseung said with a small smile and a wave as you both went your separate ways, heading home with a light heart.

As you walked home, your mind buzzed with excitement. The thought of going to the dance with Heeseung made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but replay the moment he asked you, feeling a rush of happiness each time. It was like a dream come true, and you couldn't wait for the night of the dance to arrive.

WEEKS FLEW BY, each one filled with anticipation, excitement, and a series of dates. Finally, the much-anticipated day of the dance had arrived. It had been six weeks since you eagerly marked this date on your calendar. Reflecting on the past four months since you met Heeseung, you knew deep down that you were head over heels in love with him. The moment he asked you to the dance, those feelings intensified.

"Do you think this dress is pretty enough?" you asked, twirling in your knee-length black dress adorned with delicate lace details, a sweetheart neckline, and spaghetti straps. The dress hugged your figure perfectly.

"It's gorgeous," Ningning complimented, deftly assisting with your hair.

"It's perfect, just like you," Winter reassured, adjusting your dress with care.

"Easy for you to say, with Beomgyu as your date," you teased, prompting laughter from your friends.

"And you have Heeseung," Winter smiled, smoothing out the fabric of your dress.

"You two are so cute together," Giselle teased, earning a blush from you.

"I love you guys," you said, feeling grateful for their support as you shared a group hug.

"Even if I'm dating a man, you'll always be my number one," Winter jokes, lightening the mood as you head to Karina's car.

Upon arriving at the dance, the lively atmosphere was perfect. Laughter, music, and chatter filled the room as people talked, danced, and enjoyed themselves. Spotting Heeseung entering the room, you felt a rush of excitement.

He looked perfect in his suit, his hair perfectly styled. Rushing over to him, you greeted him with a beaming smile.

"Heeseung!" you exclaimed. Heeseung looked up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. I

"You look amazing, YN," Heeseung complimented, his smile genuine.

"Thanks, but you're the one who looks stunning," you replied, feeling your heart flutter as you took in his appearance. "Come on, let's grab some snacks and go have fun!"

The next two hours were filled with laughter, dancing, and cherished moments spent with Heeseung and your friends. However, it was until you excused yourself to the bathroom, to then meet Jiho.

"YN," Jiho's voice cut through the noise, sending a chill down your spine.

"What do you want, Jiho?" you asked, your tone laced with irritation.

"Are you here with your 'so-called' boyfriend, Heeseung?" Jiho taunted, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Yes, and what's it to you?" you retorted, your patience wearing thin.

“Yeah there is.” his smirk widened, “Don’t act stupid, I knew everything.”

“God I hate you Jiho.” you spat, feeling your anger rise.

"Come on, YN. Admit you still love me, and everything will go back to normal," Jiho sneered.

“I don’t even like you anymore, Jiho.” you said firmly, trying to keep your composure.

"Oh, really? Maybe this will change your mind," Jiho said, leaning in closer. You felt his fingers slip into your waist, his grip firm and tight. You felt his face leaning closer to yours. You quickly stepped back and pushed him aside.

“Are you fucking crazy?” you yelled.

“YN, why are you so pissed? Not like you like anyone.” Jiho's eyes bore into yours, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I don’t want to fucking kiss you,” you glared, “Now fuck off please.”

“Why is it because of Heeseung? Your fake boyfriend? God, he probably doesn’t even like you YN. He only likes you because you're popular.” he laughed. Your heart sank at his cruel words. The words stung as you heard each word. Heeseung was just a stupid fake boyfriend you had. The two of you had never had a real relationship. A real love. Was Heeseung just playing with your feelings? Did Heeseung even love you like how much you loved him?

"I hate you, Jiho," you whispered before leaving the party alone, your heart felt heavy.

YOU SPENT HOURS lying in bed, staring out the rain-splattered window, your cheeks damp from the relentless stream of tears. Days had passed since the dance, and you hadn't mustered the strength to leave the confines of your home.

"YN, you've been here for hours," Karina's voice broke through the silence, her concern evident as she entered your room.

"Why didn't you text me?"

"Phone died," you muttered, burying your face deeper into the sheets.

"Tell me what's wrong," Karina urged gently, taking a seat beside you.

"I don't know," you confessed, your voice barely audible.

"Come on," Karina coaxed, her comforting presence offering a glimmer of solace.

"Okay, fine," you relented, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Jiho said some awful things to me at the dance. Now I'm a wreck, and I can't face Heeseung. I'm in love with him, and it's tearing me apart."

Karina's eyes widened at the torrent of emotions pouring out. "And you kept this from me all this time?"

"Karina, I didn't know what to do," you admitted, your voice choking with emotion. "I thought Heeseung felt the same way, but then Jiho made me doubt everything."

"How does Jiho know anything? He's not Heeseung," Karina retorted, frustration evident in her tone. "He's just trying to mess with your head."

"But what if he's right? What if Heeseung was just pretending all along?" you sighed, a heavy weight settling in your chest.

"YN," Karina's voice softened, her touch gentle as she sought to comfort you. "How do you know Heeseung doesn't like you? Have you talked to him?"

"I haven't," you admitted, uncertainty clouding your thoughts.

"Then how can you be so sure?" Karina questioned, her eyes searching yours. "Heeseung cares about you, YN. He was worried sick after the dance. He searched everywhere for you and even left the party early out of concern."

"Are you serious?" you asked, a glimmer of hope flickering in your eyes.

"Dead serious," Karina affirmed, her sincerity unwavering. "Talk to him, YN. You'll see."

"But what if I'm wrong?" you hesitated, your fear holding you back. "Just trust me on this," Karina reassured, squeezing your hand gently. "Talk to Heeseung. You'll thank me later." Karina offered you a reassuring smile before enveloping you in an embrace.

HEESEUNG WAS SERIOUSLY DEAD WORRIED about you. He thought you were possibly hit by some car or even worse kidnapped. His thoughts wandered as he tried to think of all the possibilities you were. You stopped even coming to school for weeks.

The memory of the dance replayed in his mind like a broken record, haunting him with unanswered questions. Your sudden disappearance after excusing yourself to the bathroom left him questionable and restless. Desperately, he asked your friends as your friends only left him shrugs and quietness making him uneasy of the situation.

When you finally returned after a week-long absence, Heeseung couldn't help but notice the change in you. You awfully looked tired and you had eyebags. And the most important change, you were avoiding Heeseung. Was it something he had done to mess things up?

Heeseung sat at his usual spot on the rooftop, gazing out at the view, trying to get his thoughts out.

"Look who it is, Lee Heeseung," a voice pierced through the silence, pulling Heeseung from his reverie. Turning, he found Jiho leaning casually against the stairway exit, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Heeseung's girlfriend, huh?" Jiho taunted, his words hitting Heeseung like a sudden blow.

"What did you do to YN?" Heeseung's voice was edged with a mixture of anger and concern, his gaze sharp.

"Nothing much, just a little truth-telling," Jiho chuckled, his demeanor full of arrogance.

"What truth?" Heeseung's tone was laced with urgency, his fists clenched in frustration.

“Just a few things that need to be said. Like how you guys are just dating, nothing more than that.”

Heeseung's jaw tightened as the weight of Jiho's words settled in, his mind reeling with disbelief and anger.

"Do you even know why YN hates you?" Heeseung spat, his voice seething with contempt.

"Why don't you tell me?" Jiho's smirk widened.

"Cause you’re truly an awful person” Heeseung retorted, his patience wearing thin.

“Oh really?” Jiho teased, “I didn’t know.”

Jiho's mocking laughter only fueled Heeseung's rage, his frustration exploding into action as he delivered a swift punch to Jiho's jaw.

"You're really undeserving of her," Heeseung's words echoed in the empty space.

“You could punch me as many times, I don’t care.” Jiho smiled.

“I would but actually I don’t want to see your ugly face, so fuck off.” Heeseung stormed out of the rooftop leaving Jiho alone on the ground.

IT WAS 1 AM WHEN YOU FOUND YOURSELF at the convenience store, clad in your most comfortable clothes, not even caring if people saw you. The rush of cold air from the conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, scanning the assortment of snacks. The scent of sweet delights filled your senses, tempting you to buy more. You reached for a snack when the chime of the door signaled someone's arrival.

Looking up, you were met with the sight of Heeseung standing across the store, his gaze fixed on you. It felt like deja vu, reminiscent of the first time you laid eyes on him. Your throat went dry, memories of Jiho's words echoing in your mind: "He probably doesn’t even like you." Anxious, you bit your lip as Heeseung approached.

"Can we talk outside?" Heeseung's voice broke through the tension. With a quiet nod, you followed him out of the store.

"YN, what's going on?" Heeseung's concern was evident as he confronted you, hoping you would answer honestly.

"Heeseung, it's nothing," you lied

"It's not nothing," Heeseung persisted, his tone firm.

"Okay, fine, I'll tell you. I fell in love with you, but then Jiho made me doubt everything. I thought you probably didn’t even like me, maybe you liked Karina instead. What was the point of being with you if I'm only going to hurt myself?" The words spilled out in a rush, leaving you empty.. Heeseung froze at your confession, disbelief in his expression.

"You like me?" Heeseung's eyebrow arched in surprise.

"I know you don't like me—" Before you could finish, Heeseung silenced you with a soft kiss. His lips were soft and perfect.You felt his fingers sliding into your waist, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. Your lips were moving in sync, in the same passion, kissing each other back. You felt his fingers intertwined with yours, drawing soft circles on the back of your hand.

Pulling away, breathless, you attempted to speak, but Heeseung beat you to it. "I like you a lot, YN. I was in denial of my feelings for months, but I realized I was actually in love with you." You widen your eyes at his confession

"Heeseung, you're not lying, right?" suspicion tinged your words.

"Do you think I would ever lie to you?" Heeseung chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear, a gesture that he would always done

"No, but it all seems non-real," you confessed.

Heeseung's laughter, the sound you cherished the most, filled the air. "Then, will you be my real girlfriend, YN LN?"

"Of course, any day I'll choose you," you smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

MONTHS HAD PASSED and you found yourself in a state of bliss you never imagined possible. Seated on the rooftop with Heeseung, your fingers intertwined, you gazed out into the view before you, the cool breeze enveloping you in a sense of serenity.

"Look how far we've come," you remarked, a smile gracing your lips as you watched Heeseung absentmindedly draw small patterns on your palm.

"Yeah," Heeseung nodded, his touch gentle and comforting.

"I love you, Heeseung," you whispered softly, your words carrying the weight of your affection.

"I love you more," Heeseung replied in a tender whisper, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of your neck as he leaned in to press a series of delicate kisses along its curve.

"Heeseung, that tickles!" you laughed, squirming slightly at the sensation.

"This is your punishment for getting a 60% on the exam," Heeseung teased, his tone playful yet teasing.

"Hey, I'm not some nerd like you!" you retorted, playfully poking his side.

"Nerd?" Heeseung chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"A cute nerd," you amended with a grin, your heart swelling with affection.

"And you're my cute princess," Heeseung declared, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to your lips, his love for you shining brightly in his eyes. You truly were in love with Heeseung, and you weren’t going to deny it.

3K notes · View notes

jaylaxies · 12 days ago

Text

YOURS (MAYBE?) | part I

PAIRING: jake x fem!reader x jay

GENRE: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, smut, fluff, humour, angst, cunnilingus, fingering, choking, blowjob, squirting, multiple orgasms, cum in vag, praises, degradation, double penetration in one hole, threesome, lots of kissing, slight body worship, aftercare, mentions of nicknames, mentions of food, lmk if i missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 16.9k out of 34.2k words!

SYNOPSIs: Your best friend’s wedding was supposed to be the well-earned vacation you’d been dreaming of, the perfect escape and much needed breather. Instead, you’re stuck sharing a room with your ex-rival, and the previously quiet, enigmatic boy from university, both seemingly perfectly poised to turn this trip into a carefully orchestrated plan to woo you. Alternatively: Challengers, but your playground isn’t a tennis court, it is the bedroom which you share with Jay and Jake.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni.

PART TWO: here.

A/N: hihi loves <3 sorry for the delay but the fic is finally here! gosh, this is the longest fic i have ever written, i hope you guys will enjoy it! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Chapter 1: The boy I forgot Vs. The boy I can’t.

Being late to your best friend’s wedding trip was the lowest you could have sunk down, and you did.

Well, granted, it was courtesy of your work which never gave you holidays, but alas, you managed to get a week off, now rushing out of the airport with your two heavy luggage bags, not to mention the backpack and purse you managed to carry along, trying to spot the bride, Karina, who still proceeded to pick you up in the midst of all the wedding preparation chaos.

She launches herself at you even before you had the time to react, engulfing you in a hug so tight as if you hadn’t met her over dinner just the week prior.

“You’re so fucking late,” she screamed, shaking you as you finally elicited a laugh, waving back at her fiancé, Jeno, who was smiling like a puppy seeing his fiancée so joyous.

“Blame my boss, he fucking made me work overtime to the point I had to cancel my flight and take the ticket for the next one,” you groaned, letting the couple help you with your luggage and share everything you’ve missed so far—which somehow didn’t include the room assortment, yet.

Karina chats your ear off the entire ride to the Airbnb villa booked especially for the friends, other families and guests having different villas all to themselves, her voice practically vibrating with sheer excitement, but it’s not until the car takes a sharp turn into a winding hill that your stomach twists with something else—anticipation.

“You’ll love the place,” she says, “and the people—well, mostly.”

You shoot her a look. “Mostly? You let me take care of everything, from helping with your wedding dress to finalizing the flowers and arrangements, but didn’t let me take a single look at the guest list, should I be worried?”

“Let’s just say, there are a few strong personalities. You’ll see.”

You narrow your eyes but let it slide, muttering, “yeah I’m worried.” She’s already looking smug, and you had a bad feeling about it now that your car neared the villa for the next few days, and you did have a slight hint about what was to come, to which you simply prayed for it to be wrong.

It was something straight out of a pinterest board, cream coloured walls, string lights adorning it, the faint scent of gardenia drifting through the slight breeze, cooling down the otherwise warm atmosphere. You’re still staring at the view as you get another hug attack from Winter, who was more than excited to see you after the few weeks you spent away, because you still met up after subsequently completing the university.

A small genuine smile graced your face as you started catching up, “god—wait. I need Karina to finalize the aisle placements, I’m sorry, Y/N, we’ll be back in a second.” She says, rushing away, seeming more bothered than the bride to be herself, who was enjoying every second of it.

You weren’t sure what you expected when you stepped into the villa, but it definitely wasn’t this.

The place looked like something out of a design magazine—open plan with warm wooden floors, arched doorways, and morning light spilling across the ceilings. Plants dangled beautifully from the pots, and a soft ocean breeze danced through linen curtains like the house was exhaling out elegance.

It was like a perfect Pinterest wedding destination, almost like a spot where people would fall in love seamlessly.

Unfortunately, you were not here for love.

You were here for Karina’s wedding, and most importantly, you were especially not here to run into—

“Well, if it isn’t the prodigy herself.”

That voice—you froze mid-step, every muscle in your spine stiffening like instinct. No. Absolutely not, that could not be him, could he?

You turned slowly, already preparing your sigh, and found yourself face to face with none other than Park Jongseong.

Great.

Same perfect posture, same cocky half-smile. Tall, annoyingly handsome, and dressed like the poster boy for a casual rich man at a coastal wedding—open shirt, silver chain, jaw sharp enough to cut glass, eyes dark enough to drown someone, and his heart shaped birthmark on the neck still standing out.

Jay.

Your academic nemesis, your eternal debate partner. The guy who turned every university presentation into a showdown and somehow made you want to win even harder, the guy you swore you hated all three years of your undergrad uni.

You hadn’t seen him since graduation. You’d hoped that would be the end of it, but of fucking course, fate hated you.

“Well, I see you’re still as stiff as ever,” you said, looking bored, hoisting your backpack bag higher on your shoulder, “still studying like a madman, huh?”

Jay gave a lazy smile, eyes flicking over you with the practiced indifference of someone used to winning, his eyes still wandering around your figure before he clicked his tongue, “you’re late.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, already irritated, “I’m fashionably late, there’s a difference, you wouldn’t understand, of fucking course.” You said, pointing at your amazing airport fit.

“I’m sure there’s a spreadsheet in your bag that proves that, you always came over prepared anyway.”

You opened your mouth to deliver a killer comeback—and were immediately interrupted by another voice.

“Woah—woah, I’ve only been here ten minutes and there’s already fights unleashing, huh?”

You turned again, this time finding yourself staring into a face you hadn’t expected at all.

Jake.

Sim Jaeyun, you recognized him immediately—your old batchmate, the quiet one from your year, you remembered him as soft spoken, always with a shy smile, never really one to speak unless called on, only if you omit out recalling that one night when he did talk to you, just one night.

Except now—now he stood beside Jay, lean and sun-kissed, wearing a faded tee that clung just right and black sweatpants that made him look nothing like the awkward boy you remembered. There was a warmth in his eyes, sure—but also something new, a flicker of playfulness, of newfound confidence.

His hair fluffier than ever, lips still pouty but in a teasing manner, and his aura now strong and warm, as if he had a halo around his head.

“Jake?” you said, unsure, but you did remember him, not just the newly transformed version of him.

His grin was unnaturally attractive as he replied, “you remember.”

Barely, you thought, but said instead, “wow, you were—uh quiet.”

Jake chuckled, and the sound was different than you remembered too, richer, more teasing, accent evident in his voice, “yeah. Not so much anymore, I guess.”

Jay scoffed from beside him, “he still is when he loses. Don’t let him fool you.”

Jake rolled his eyes, “ignore him. He gets cranky when he’s not the smartest in the room, Mr. Know it all.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Is that why he always sulked during academic week?”

Jay turned to you with a sarcastic smile. “You were the one who stole my thesis idea in senior year.”

“I didn’t steal it, I simply executed it better.”

“Debatable.”

“Oh my god,” Jake said with a laugh, looking between the two of you, “this is amazing. It’s like watching the academic war off, but, well, this is actually interesting.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, but you quickly caught yourself. No, absolutely no humanizing your rival, not when he was right in front of you.

Jay leaned against the entryway wall, clearly amused, “didn’t expect to see you here, honestly.”

“I’m Karina’s best friend,” you replied with an eye roll as if he was dumb, “of course I’m here.”

Jay’s expression didn’t shift, but something in his gaze sharpened slightly. “Right. Makes sense.”

Jake tilted his head as if he didn’t know, “you and Karina were close in uni?”

“We roomed together all four years,” you said, lips curving, “she’s like my sister.”

Jay gave a half, sarcastic smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “hm, that does explain the pity invite.”

You scoffed as you stepped closer, gaze daring, “are you always this good at projecting?”

“I’m always this good at reading people.”

“Then read this and stay away,” you said sweetly, flipping him off.

Jake blinked, then burst out laughing, leaning forward like the moment was a personal win, genuinely amused, “I’m sorry, that was iconic, never gets old.”

Jay shrugged, shaking his head at you, “she always had a flair for the dramatics, I wonder why she didn’t join the drama society.”

“You’re one to talk,” you muttered, but before Jay could respond, the front door opened again and Isa rushed in, grinning.

“There you are!” She said, grabbing your arm. “Come on, Karina’s doing the room assignments!”

You let yourself be dragged back inside, throwing one last glance at the boys—Jay smirking like he’d already won something, and Jake watching you with a curiosity that sent a shiver up your spine.

Room assignments, right. You could handle that, or so you thought.

The rest of the house was gathered in the living room, lounging on floor cushions and sipping iced drinks and vodka? Well, afternoon drinking is fun, meanwhile, Karina stood in the center, a clipboard in hand and a wicked glint in her eye, that was reserved for you, apparently.

“Okay,” she announced. “Here’s how it’s going to work. We’ve got three rooms for guests. Each one has its own fun layout.”

You narrowed your eyes. That tone was never good, not when she used it looking your way, and you simply hoped that your gut feeling wasn’t right this once.

“Room One, Isa, Winter, Yunjin.”

The girls high-fived and squealed, already plotting aesthetic corners and matching pajamas, and you stood there, knowing what was to happen when you weren’t put up with the girls.

“Room Two, Yeonjun, Heeseung, Beomgyu, Jaemin, and Hyuck.”

Someone groaned in the back, definitely Hyuck, “why do we get the bunk beds?”

Karina grinned, “because you snore, Hyuck.”

Then she paused, flipping the page. “Room three—hm, this one’s interesting.”

Your stomach dropped when it was finally the time to say it out loud.

“No,” you said immediately, “whatever it is you’re about to say, no.”

Karina ignored you, “room three has one double bed and one single, and it goes to—Y/N, Jay, and Jake.”

Silence.

Then the crowd erupted into laughter, Beomgyu complaining about how it should be him with you instead, meanwhile, the girls wondering who’s gonna make it out of the room alive, because with that pairing, someone was bound to murder the other.

“You’re fucking kidding,” you whispered, horrified, already reaching out to Karina who was on the verge of running away, laughing hard at your expressions, “what? No. Are you serious?”

Jay looked up from his drink with mock surprise, as if Jeno had already told him what was to happen, “Huh? That’s unfortunate.”

Jake’s eyes went wide, almost comical, “wait—what? All three of us?” He asked, pointing at himself.

Karina nodded, grinning too wide, still rushing around trying to not get caught by you, “unless someone wants to sleep on the couch?” She asked, chuckling as she hid behind Jeno for shield.

“I’ll sleep in the ocean,” you said flatly, moving back now that you knew Karina was safe and hiding behind a tall, muscular man.

Jake scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, I don’t mind the single bed—unless you want to share.”

Jay choked, not expecting that kind of reaction from Jake, “she’d rather sleep with a thesis on stem cell regeneration.”

“Oh my god, this can’t be happening,” you muttered.

Karina clapped her hands. “Settled! Take your bags upstairs. Good luck.”

You stood frozen as the group dissolved into laughter and chatter, your fate sealed, this trip was going to kill you.

And it hadn’t even begun yet.

Chapter 2: Drunk on you, I lose control.

The moment you walk up the stairs to your room, it’s chaos. Jake brushes past you, grabbing your suitcase with a grin, “relax, I’ve got it,” he says smoothly, his fingers brushing yours just a second longer than necessary.

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your stomach does a stupid little flip at the change in his personality, the confidence he oozes so easily now, “you know I can handle a bag, right?”

“Sure you can,” Jake says, smirking as he sets it neatly by the wall, “but why would I pass up the chance to be your hero tonight? I’m a gentleman, y’know?”

He takes your bag so easily, muscles flexing under the T-shirt he wore, it was evident that he worked out.

Before you can fire back, Jay’s voice cuts through the room, smooth and sharp, “wow. You’re laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

You turn to find Jay stretched out on the double bed like he owns it, arms folded behind his head, a lazy grin pulling at his mouth. His dark eyes track you, sharp and amused at the sudden display of Jake’s chivalry.

“Don’t you have anyone else to annoy, Jay?” You snap.

“Nope,” he says easily with a smirk, “you know you’re my favourite.”

You clench your jaw, grab your clothes, and storm toward the bathroom, not having it in you to stay in the same room as Jay by any means.

Behind you, you hear Jake’s low chuckle, “easy, man.”

“I’m not the one overstepping,” Jay murmurs, and you slam the door shut before you hear the rest.

The second you enter the bathroom, you let out a long breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. You were here for a wedding, sharing a bedroom with two guys. Could this truly get any worse?

You thought a long, hot shower would make you feel better, but it didn’t, because the moment you stepped out in your shorts, you could feel the tension in the room thickening. Jake’s sitting on the single bed, scrolling through his phone, but his eyes flick up the moment you appear, his eyes now fixated on you.

“Hey,” he says softly, “you sure you don’t want the double?”

“I’m good.” You toss your things onto the narrow mattress and meet his eyes, “but thanks, enjoy sleeping together boys.” You threw them a look of mischief.

Jay’s voice reverberated across the room, “damn, aren’t you polite.”

You whip your head toward him, sharp. “You want polite, Jay? Try giving me the damn bed, or actually, the whole room, and leave.”

“Not my fault you came in late, y’know?” Jay says, smiling like it’s the easiest thing in the world, “you snooze, you lose, baby.”

“Don’t you dare call me—” before you could throw something at him, Jake’s up, slinging an arm briefly around your shoulder.

“Come on,” he murmurs close to your ear, too close, enough for you to feel his warmth and scent, “save the murder plot for later, I’m pretty sure you’ll get your chance, I’ll even help, hm?”

And you stepped back, gulping and cursing yourself for getting into this mess, leaving the boys to themselves now.

The villa was alive with noise, soft music bouncing off the walls as your friends’ laughter echoed down the hall by the time you were done taking a tour of the whole place, Heeseung and Jaemin guiding you through it along with Isa.

Only for everyone to gather in the main living room area for drinks and games, just like the old times, they said.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, wedged between Jake and Karina, “I swear you’re the most evil person alive,” you mumbled as the girl only laughed at you.

“Hey! I’m only doing what’s the best for you!”

“And that involves me being in a room with two insufferable men?” You deadpanned, glad that Jake was occupied in a conversation with Hyuck, keeping him away from hearing your words.

“By keeping you near the men who’ll probably make sure all your frustration will be gone by the time the wedding is over,” she smirked and you only shook your head with an expression that screamed ‘save me’.

Jay lounged warmly with his back against the couch, fingers tapping mindlessly against his glass as his eyes were sharp and unreadable every time Jake leaned a little too close—which he did a bit too often.

Jake was fast, a little too fast when it came to occupying any space near you, practically running to sit down next to you, leaving Jay to sit right in front of you, across the table.

“Truth and Dare, let’s fucking go!” Beomgyu screamed, and so did everyone else, while a few groans could be heard too.

“What are we, kids?” You asked with a chuckle.

“No, but we can make some?” Gyu said, wiggling his eyebrows and you shook your head.

“Hard pass,” you replied, eyes flicking up to Jake, who looked visibly annoyed.

“C’mon, Y/N, let’s play at least,” Gyu said, “trust me it’ll be fun.”

You shrugged, nodding alongside as you found no point in arguing with them, urging him to start the game as everyone sat down in a circle, your eyes wandering around, settling on the two of your roommates every few minutes.

The bottle spun, wobbling dangerously before landing on you. That’s just how your luck was.

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Isa giggled softly.

Beomgyu smirked, “Y/N, truth or dare?”

You narrowed your eyes, not thinking much before you said, “dare.”

Without missing a beat, he leaned forward, voice laced with mischief, “then, I dare you to sit on my lap for two minutes.”

The room practically exploded at that—whistles, shouts, Karina gasping and swatting at Jeno’s arm as he laughed, “oh i’m having the time of my life,” she said, trying her best not to laugh at your face.

You shot Beomgyu a sharp look, “you’re a menace, I swear.”

“I know,” he grinned, arms wide in mock innocence, “you don’t wanna make babies so.” He dragged with a smile.

With an exaggerated sigh, you moved toward him, settling lightly on his lap. His hands flew up in surrender, but his smirk didn’t fade, hands now wrapped around your waist to help you sit comfortably.

Jake stiffened watching the whole scene unfold, his grin tightening just at the edges. Across the circle, Jay’s fingers curled slightly against his glass, knuckles whitening as his gaze locked on you.

Two minutes never felt so long, even more so when Gyu couldn’t stop with his flirty remarks every few seconds, yelping when you pinched his arm.

The timer beeped on Isa’s phone, and you slid off Beomgyu’s lap with a triumphant smile, a sigh of relief as you sat back down in your place, “finally survived that.”

“Barely,” Jake muttered, low enough for only you to hear.

A few spins later, Isa’s grin turned sly as you turned out to be the victim of this game again, a huff leaving your mouth as you took another shot of tequila rose, you’d definitely need it. “Y/N—seven minutes in heaven, and we choose the guy.”

You groaned, “you people are beyond evil.”

“Democracy, baby!” Beomgyu cheered, arms thrown wide, “I vote for me!”

“Jay,” Winter declared, biting back a grin, “obviously, the soul tied rivals.”

Your eyes shot up to look at him, only to find his intense stare fixated on you already.

“Oh yes!”

“I agree, Jay for me too.”

“Damn, this will be fun,” everyone kept on agreeing and you only looked at Karina with a glare of accusation, as if she was the reason why this was happening. Which is partly true.

Jake shot upright, “hold on—I have to vote too.”

“Rules are rules, majority already voted for Jay and Y/N!” Isa sang, practically pushing you toward the hallway closet.

The door clicked shut behind you, plunging you and Jay into dim silence.

He broke the silence after two minutes of absolutely nothing but the sound of your breathing, “scared?” He challenged.

You leaned against the wall, arms crossed tight, “oh fuck no, don’t get any wrong ideas.”

Jay leaned casually against the opposite wall, one brow lifting, “please. As if I’d do anything with you.”

You scoffed, “you’d combust before making the first move, never had the balls to do anything but study anyway.”

“How do you know that, huh?” He pushed off the wall, taking a single step forward, “you’re all talk, you know that? Acting as if you know me when you’re no better.”

Your heart jumped as his tone got an octave deeper, but you tried not to look fazed, “yeah? And you’re all ego, challenging me when you clearly always lose.”

Jay’s mouth curved, just slightly—the kind of smile that was all sharp edges, something he reserved only for you. A lot of things had changed over the years, but not his attitude.

He closed the space between you slowly, the air thickening, your breath catching in your throat as he caged you between his arms, hand resting near your shoulder on the wall—not touching you, but just close enough to make your skin feel his presence.

“Flustered yet?” he murmured, voice low and demanding.

“Not even close,” you shot back, but your heartbeat said otherwise. How could you not be immune to anyone who comes this close to you, to the point the scent of their perfume invades your senses?

His gaze flicked over your face, lingering at your mouth for a breath too long—and before either of you could break, the door banged open.

“Time—oh wait, are you guys kissing?” Hyuck’s voice rang through, laughter spilling into the room, with a few screams of questions.

You practically stumbled out, cheeks blazing as you smacked Hyuck on his shoulder, him fake crying on the ground, “nothing like that will ever happen, you idiot.”

“You sure about that?” Jay whispered casually, before walking ahead, his cool mask firmly back in place. Jake’s eyes tracked you across the room, jaw tight, his hand gripping his drink just a little too hard.

The bottle spun again as you settled in your place, and you prayed to stay out of the game by now, you couldn’t handle it no more.

“Jake,” Jaemin grinned, “truth or dare?”

Jake flashed a lazy grin, “dare.”

“Give Y/N a kiss—cheek only though, she’s feisty when you get too close.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the fate wasn’t with you today by any means

Jake’s head tilted, a spark lighting in his eyes, “uh-huh, gladly.”

He leaned in smoothly, slender fingers brushing your jaw as his plush lips pressed a warm, slow kiss to your cheek, your eyes closing at the warmth of his breath, the kiss lingering just long enough that your own breath hitched.

The room turned feral again, Karina happier than ever as she clapped at the little show of affection.

You swallowed hard, caught between a smirk and a flustered laugh, “you guys won’t let me live, will you?”

When you glanced up, Jay’s gaze was razor-sharp, his posture rigid, his glass held a little too tight in his hand as he drank the whiskey in one go, dramatically so.

By the time the game spiraled into chaotic karaoke battles and empty bottles, you slipped away upstairs, heart pounding like it hadn’t settled all night.

Karina cracked her door open, grinning. “Y/N—what the hell’s going on down there?”

You collapsed onto her bed with a dramatic groan, “our friends are out of control.”

Karina tugged you into her room, half laughing at your unenthusiastic state, “spill.”

You buried your face in her pillow. “Beomgyu dared me into his lap, I spent seven minutes in a closet with Jay bickering the entire fucking time, oh god that asshole, will he ever change? And then Jake kissed me on the cheek like he meant it, like I didn’t even remember the guy up till today, kinda? And now he’s hellbent on making his presence known?”

Karina wheezed, clutching her stomach, “oh, you are so in trouble.”

“And who’s fault is that?”

“It’s for your own good, maybe if one of them fucks you good enough—”

You groaned louder, “I want to disappear.”

She smirked, “you’re glowing, by the way, gonna have the best sleep with the boys?”

“Shut up—shut up,” you mumbled again and again, dreading to walk into the room with those two again.

When you finally dragged yourself to the shared room, Jake was sprawled across one double bed, shirt off, hair a stylish mess, eyes gleaming when he saw you.

“Single’s all yours, princess,” he murmured, voice low and teasing.

You shook your head at the nickname, which only made him smile wider.

Jay sat on the other bed, scrolling through his phone, but his gaze flicked up sharply as you entered, as if your presence was too strong for him to ignore.

You collapsed onto the narrow single mattress, pulling the soft blanket over your face, “I don’t want to hear a single word now, go to sleep.”

Jake laughed softly, turning onto his side, eyes glinting in the dim light, making his face glow while Jay shook his head faintly, but the tension hummed in the room like a live wire waiting to cause trouble, wrapping around the three of you.

And as you drifted off, one thought pounded through your head, keeping your body nervous as you realized.

You are absolutely, completely doomed.

Chapter 3: Come right on me, I mean camaraderie.

You didn’t have the best relationship with sunlight, especially when you were tired and well, low-key hungover. The curtains did nothing to stop the streaming rays of the sun, lighting up the room in hues of gold. The single bed wasn’t comfortable per se, but at least you weren’t sharing it with one of those—you froze, thoughts screeching to a halt.

You had turned around to find the two boys, shirtless might you just add, wrapped around each other in perfect yaoi proportions, almost like they were cuddling, a small smile on Jake’s face made the whole ordeal even more amusing.

Oh, this would be a solid picture to use for blackmailing the two.

Jay, who slept like a pretentious vampire—back straight, one arm draped over his forehead—was somehow curled toward Jake, his face half-buried in the pillow. Jake, meanwhile, had an arm slung carelessly over Jay’s torso, his fingers gripping his waist. Their legs were a mess of tangled sheets, and Jake’s knee was nudged against Jay’s thigh like they’d fought for space and called a truce in their sleep.

It’s unnatural how perfectly sculpted their bodies are, which does irritate you, because why do your dorky uni batchmates now have abs and a strong v-line? You shake your head, focusing on the main task again, watching their sun kissed faces sleeping peacefully.

You bit your bottom lip, stifling your laugh as you reached out for your phone, trying to capture the best piece of blackmail material ever, tiptoeing a bit closer so you were on the edge of the bed, a smirk on your face as you angle your camera towards the crime scene, the soft sound of clicking pictures was heard as you did so, but that’s exactly when Jake shifts.

Shit.

Your breath hitches as his lashes flutter, and you freeze, half crouched, phone in hand, wide eyed like a deer caught mid hunting as his gaze landed on you. You expected confusion, embarrassment or maybe even a look of horror on his face.

However, instead, his lips curl into a sleepy, lopsided grin, the one which made him look like a pretty boy, “good morning, stalker.”

You open your mouth, “I—”

You start to move back, fumbling for a response as your brain stops working for a solid second, but he suddenly reaches out—quick despite just waking up, and tugs you forward by the wrist.

You yelp, your balance tipping as you fall onto the bed. Right on top of him, chest to chest.

Jake groans as you land, but it’s not from pain, it’s the smug kind, the kind that means mischief, that just ensures how much he’s enjoying his morning. His arms wrap loosely around your waist, trapping you as he props his head on the pillow, completely unbothered.

“Was I dreaming,” he murmurs, “or did you just sneak over to take pictures of me sleeping, shirtless might I just add?”

“You were practically spooning with Jay,” you hiss, struggling to push yourself up, but his grip only tightens as you squirm around to get up, “I had to document the evidence.”

He chuckles, sleep still thick in his voice. “So I’m photogenic, even unconscious huh? Good to know.”

“Jake, let me go,” you mumble, face heating up from both proximity and the fact that he is completely shirtless and warm, holding you like you’re the most comfortable plushie he owns.

“Didn’t know you were a perv, sweetheart.”

Jake had been shy back in university, barely looked at you even though you shared lectures. You remember his quiet smiles from across the room, the way he’d always seem to vanish when you turned to speak. But this Jake? This version has an attitude in his smirk, confidence in the way he’s comfortably holding you against him like you belong there, though you didn’t miss the faint red that painted his ears.

“Fuck—no. I’m not!”

“You always this much of a menace in the morning?” he murmurs.

You glare at him, “you don’t remember how shy you were back in college, do you?”

“Hm, maybe I do. Maybe I remember everything. Like how you used to wear that oversized navy hoodie during finals week, and bounced your leg when you were nervous.”

You blink, not expecting such a response, especially when he’s this close, too close to you.

“You’re the one who used to stalk huh, not talk.”

“I was terrified of you,” he admits, almost fondly, “but you were hot, so it balanced out.”

“Still terrified?” You ask, raising a brow at his utter truthfulness.

“Terrified,” he answers in a beat, then leans in, “but not enough to let you go.”

And now Jay groans slowly, making you both freeze, and you try to move again.

You push at Jake’s chest, only for him to laugh under his breath and shift his grip. His bare skin is warm under your palms, and you realize, way too late, that he’s still holding you down, your knees are tangled with the blanket, your face far too close to his.

Jay shifts around lazily, not expecting the view of you being on top of Jake the first thing in the morning, “wow,” he scoffed, voice deeper than ever, “am I interrupting something?”

Jay’s awake now and not even mildly amused. Propped up on one elbow, his dark eyes locked on you two, your body sprawled over Jake’s, your hands resting against his chest.

His gaze flicks to Jake’s arm still wrapped around your waist, then to your phone, still clutched in your fingers, then back to your face.

“Good morning to you too,” Jake mutters.

Jay doesn’t respond, instead, he holds out a hand, “phone, now.”

You shake your head, trying to push off Jake again, “Oh—no fucking way, It’s not what—”

“I said give me your phone.”

“Jay—”

He grabs it from your hand before you can blink or say more.

“God—no!”

He scrolls, his face doesn’t show emotions at first—but you see the twitch in his jaw when the first image appears.

He raises his brows, “really? Seven pictures?”

Jake chuckles, “she’s got an eye for detail, or maybe just me.”

“You were cuddling,” you exasperated defensively.

“You’re on top of him.” Jay says, eyes dark as if no sleep was left in them anymore.

“Because he—”

Before you can finish, Jake’s hand finds your waist again and tugs you back down—just enough for you to lose your balance and land squarely on his chest again.

“Jake, I swear I’ll kill you if you don’t let go.”

“What?” He says innocently, “ I’m helping you be comfortable.”

“You’re not!”

Jay’s hand suddenly curls around your upper arm and pulls you back toward him, prying you off Jake like you’re the rope in a damn game of tug-of-war.

“She doesn’t need your help.”

Jake narrows his eyes, “and you think she needs yours?”

Jay’s arm tightens around your waist as he pulls you into his side, your head spinning with whatever these testosterone filled assholes were up to, not making it easy for you to leave, which only made your heart beat faster.

“She needs someone who isn’t playing every side.”

Jake sits up now, a lazy smirk on his face, “uh-huh, says the guy who flirts just to win arguments.”

“I don’t need to flirt,” Jay says coolly, “she already knows I win regardless.”

You scoff at his lie, “excuse me? You do not—“

Jay glances at you, lip twitching up, “see? So full of passion.”

Jake pulls you back toward him chuckling, “you’re delusional.”

You’re officially sandwiched between them now—Jake on one side, Jay on the other, both shirtless, smug, and insufferable. Their legs brush yours, their hands still on you, and neither seems interested in letting go.

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter, squirming. “Let me go—”

“Not until you tell me which picture’s your favorite,” Jay says, holding your phone out.

“I hate you.” You glare at them both, trying to break free, but their combined grip keeps you pinned.

Right then, the door swings open to reveal Karina stepping inside, definitely not expecting the sight she had in front of her, making her stop dead in her tracks, eyes wide, mouth parted.

Her gaze scans the three of you, you caught between two shirtless men, tangled in sheets, your face full of irritation, or was it embarrassment? Both boys looked far too entertained.

Karina raises a single brow, “I knew this would happen but not this quick, oops, anyway, I’ll let you guys continue whatever this is.” She says, pointing her perfectly manicured finger your way.

The door shuts again, followed by complete and utter silence, which is how you finally manage to tear yourself free and bolt up from the bed.

“Oh my god—Karina!” You groan, giving both of the boys a look which clearly said you’re dead, before you took your fresh clothes and rushed into the bathroom, in dire need of cooling yourself down.

Back in the room, Jake and Jay sit in silence. Then Jake tosses a pillow toward Jay.

“You couldn’t give her two minutes without starting something?”

Jay catches it easily, “funny. I was about to say the same to you.”

Jake glares at the door you just disappeared through, “you think she likes the attention?”

“From you? Of course not,” Jay chuckled.

Jake leans back on his palms, “yeah? We’ll see.”

Jay meets his gaze.

Challenge accepted.

Just the slow, silent ignition of a rivalry neither of them plans to lose.

Chapter 4: Common effects of deprivation.

You had rushed out to see Karina post your quick shower, only to find her at the other Villa, with her family. They all were always kind to you, which is why you spent an hour there, talking to everyone and making sure to clarify what exactly went down in the morning to your best friend.

“Fine, but it doesn’t really change the fact that they both want you.” She shrugged, and you sighed.

“Jay hates me and Jake flirts with everyone,” you deadpanned.

“Has Jay ever done anything to harm you?” She cocked her brow.

“Literally always—”

“Not academically,” she clarified and you shut up in an instant, “also, have you seen Jake flirt with anyone else but you since you arrived?”

“Uh,” you tried to think, only to see Karina sitting with a smirk because she knew she was right, “wow, this is annoying,” you mumbled, gulping and looking elsewhere.

“Well, if you do need an escape, I have a task for you and Minjeong,” Karina said, “I need to pick up the necklace set I ordered so you can take a break and go out to get it, plus it’ll give you some time away from the boys, besides, Winter is dying to get the gossip from you.”

You chuckled, “Sure, but I still hate you for doing this to me,” you mumbled, hugging the laughing girl.

“You’ll thank me later, trust me,” she said, only encouraging you to play with those two devils, “you’ll have the upper hand just, trust me,” she said again.

That’s how you found yourself hand in hand with Winter, rushing out of the Villa making sure no one else notices your absence. You laughed when she opted for the golf car to make your exit quicker.

The town was beautiful, especially the narrow boutiques near the coastline, where you juggled the bags on your arms after grabbing the necklace set for Karina, making sure to get her yet another set as a gift from you both.

“So, why was Jake stretching—oops, flexing extra hard during breakfast? And Jay? Acting unbothered but adjusting his shirt every few seconds as if doing an advertisement for Dolce & Gabbana? Which he actually can if I’m being honest.”

You burst out laughing at her statements, “they’re annoying,” you grumbled right after, grabbing your coffee and sitting next to Winter, “I’m actually not sure what’s happening, It’s been one day, like? One! What is going on?”

“They’re fighting for your attention, babe. Jay is not used to sharing it, y’know? Meanwhile, Jake is pushing his luck as best he can, you’re practically being used as a tug of war rope from what i’ve heard happened in the morning.” She smirked, as if asking you to choose one.

“That’s absurd if you ask me,” you said and her smile only widened once she checked her phone as Yunjin and Isa gave her live updates of how the boys were practically crashing out, “oh this is like, olympics level male stupidity if you ask me.”

You slumped a little. “Jay always acted like he couldn’t stand me back in uni. And Jake, he used to blush if anyone looked at him for longer than three seconds. What am I supposed to do with this version of them?”

“You, my dear, are the rope in the world’s slowest and sexiest game of tug of war. I mean, I heard what happened this morning. Two men holding you down on a bed? That’s fanfiction material.”

You groaned, “It wasn’t like that! Jake woke up and pulled me onto him. Then Jay got all weird and—ugh. Then Karina walked in.”

“Yeah, so—fanfic.”

Meanwhile, back at the villa, Jake was pacing around wondering if you were actually mad because of what he did earlier in the morning, is that why you left? Where did you go? When will you come back? Did you get kidnapped?

Jay on the other hand, had read the same page of the book about sixteen times now, not being able to comprehend anything, which only irritated him further.

You got scared as Minjeong laughed, “Oh my god. Yunjin just sent me a picture of Jay reading his book upside down!”

“You’re lying,” you said.

Jay? The smart guy Jay who doesn’t let anyone or anything falter him? That Jay?

She turned the phone to you.

Sure enough—Jay, perched on the edge of a sun lounger, sunglasses on, brows furrowed like he was deep in thought, while holding the book completely the wrong way.

You almost snorted, “looks tragic, is he okay?”

“Clearly, not.” She said, sipping her drink, “honestly, i’d be more concerned if he was okay, also Jake is competing with everyone in the house, doing burpees? Gosh, he needs you to come back stat.”

“This feels illegal for some reason.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said with a grin, “but also—no, wait—definitely flatter yourself. You’ve got the academic heartthrob reading books upside down, and the once shy Jake out here trying to impress you with shoulder definition and burpees.”

You groaned, but it turned into a laugh halfway through. “Okay, but be honest now, does this make me a bad person?”

Winter stopped walking and gave you a look, “no. It makes you someone who’s getting attention from two ridiculously attractive men. You’re not playing with them, when you clearly should. You have the upper hand here, even if you think otherwise. Just follow my lead to survive now.”

You sighed dramatically. “Survive, yeah.”

“Exactly.” She looped her arm with yours, “test them, just test them enough to see if they react, you’ll get your answer then if you don’t believe us.”

“So, what? I rile them up until one of them blasts and I face the consequences?”

“Precisely,” She smirked.

Meanwhile, back at the Villa, Jaemin was laughing at Jake, “maybe three years away from Y/N were not enough for you to get over her, huh?”

“You dare mention any of it in front of her,” Jake warned, and Jaemin held his hands up in surrender.

“But it’s funny, he practically dedicated his whole uni life trying to talk to her, only for Jay to hog up all her attention,” Heeseung chuckled, casually mentioning how Jake had the fattest crush on you.

Jay only smirked, eyes still on the page of his book—not upside down this time, but no one believed he was actually reading. “What attention? All she ever did was argue with me about grades and deadlines.”

“Yeah, and you loved it,” Heeseung added, tossing a grape into his mouth like he was enjoying front row seats to a drama, “come on, man, you used to pick fights with her for fun.”

“She started it,” Jay muttered.

Yeonjun cackled, “Dude. You rearranged your entire thesis timeline just to one-up her submission date. That’s not a competition—that’s obsession, or romantic academia, whatever you prefer.”

Jay’s jaw clenched after he gulped, but he didn’t do much to deny it.

Jake, on the other hand, looked ready to spontaneously combust. “Are we seriously doing this now? What are we, twelve?”

“No, but you might be regressing,” Heeseung said, holding up his phone like he was ready to take notes. “Seriously, you two are like a romcom waiting to happen. If this were a movie, you’d be the brooding lead, Jay, and Jake would be the funny guy who always wears the crazy sweatshirts.”

Yeonjun pointed dramatically between them as if planning something, “don’t worry, gentlemen. I’ll organize another truth or dare game tonight so both of you can publicly fumble your way through kissing Y/N.”

Jay scoffed, “I’m not kissing her, I have standards.”

“I would.” Jake shrugged.

Everyone turned around in silence.

Jay looked like he’d just bitten into a lemon too citrusy, “excuse me?”

Jake smirked casually. “What? If the moment’s right, sure. Unlike some people, I don’t need to fake read philosophy books to avoid my feelings.”

Yeonjun howled. “Gosh. Someone get a camera, this is gold.”

Jaemin wiped away a fake tear, getting his phone out, “do it again. Say it again but slower, more dramatic.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “You’re all idiots.”

Just then, the door slammed open and in marched Hyuck, holding a water gun and a Gatorade, looking mildly caffeinated and completely unhinged.

“Alright,” he said, scanning the room. “Why does it smell like fragile masculinity and repressed longing in here?”

“They’re arguing about who gets to kiss Y/N,” Yeonjun announced, like he was reporting live from the battlefield, using the beer can as a mic.

“I’m not—” Jay started.

“Well, I am—but not in a weird way.” Jake interrupted seamlessly.

Hyuck blinked, then nodded as if it was normal, “cool. Anyway so—grab your shoes. We’re playing dodgeball.”

Jake frowned. “What?”

“Dodgeball,” Hyuck repeated. “Y’know—throwing rubber balls at each other until someone cries of pain or confesses their feelings. Preferably both in your case, drunken Romeo.”

Jay narrowed his eyes with a chuckle, “what kind of deranged therapy is this?”

“The budget friendly kind,” Hyuck said, already loading his water gun for dramatic effect. “Five minutes. Backyard. Loser has to write Y/N a love poem in Comic Sans.”

Heeseung gasped dramatically, “not comic Sans!”

Jake stood, cracking his knuckles. “Fine. Let’s settle this like men—with dodgeballs,” he said, faltering when he heard everyone snigger at how stupid he sounds.

Jay groaned but got up anyway. “If I get hit in the face, I’m writing all of you out of my will.”

“You weren’t in mine to begin with,” Heeseung chirped.

Yeonjun tossed Jay a headband. “Here, for sweat and, well, just fashion in case Y/N comes back to see your sweaty ass.”

Jay rolled his eyes and Jake scoffed, “and I get nothing?”

“Well—”

Hyuck was already halfway out the door. “Let’s go, lovers. I expect no one to play like a good sportsman, I need to tell Y/N crazy stories, so, show your worst.”

As Jay and Jake followed him out, Yeonjun turned to Heeseung and Jaemin with a dreamy sigh.

“Ah—the best wedding ever.”

Heeseung nodded with a smirk, “and they say romance is dead.”

Soon, the backyard beach was full with everyone, gathering around and tying red and blue scarves around their wrist, arm, or neck. Team blue consisted of Jay, Heeseung, Hyuck, and Jaemin.

Red team was full of Jake, Beomgyu, Yeonjun, and Isa who claimed that the boys can’t hurt her by any means.

Yunjin was on standby to judge the game.

Sand was flowing around, testosterone at an all time high with the abandonment of shirts, trash talk on cue as the game started.

Hyuck hurled a ball at Beomgyu’s knees, missing only because Beomgyu was in the middle of retying his shoelace and fell mid dodge, face full of disbelief.

“I’m not even standing upright!” Beomgyu shouted from the ground, “this is practically a hate crime!”

“You’re on Jake’s team,” Jay replied, already winding up for another throw, biceps flexing, “collateral damage,” he smirked.

Jake dove to block it—barely missing, and sent his own shot back, straight toward Jay, but it grazed off Jaemin’s shoulder instead.

“I’m not even the target!” Jaemin screamed, falling dramatically into the ocean foam like he’d been shot.

“It’s just friendly fire guys,” Yeonjun yelled, already running for cover.

The match got dirtier by the second.

Jake tackled a ball midair, skidding in the sand and probably pulling a muscle in the process. Jay threw with enough force to send a coconut tumbling, the shot directed towards Jake. Hyuck started commentating his own moves in third person. Heeseung “accidentally” tripped Beomgyu.

Beomgyu threw himself into the sand, limbs flailing. “I’m innocent! I’m the emotional support teammate!”

“You’re a human shield,” Jay called back, smirking.

Beomgyu lay dramatically in the sand, arms splayed out. “Tell Y/N I died bravely!”

“Yeah, as if that’ll get you anything,” Jake muttered.

“I hope she brings me an ice pack,” Beomgyu groaned. “And love. I deserve love.”

The sun was just beginning to dip when you and Winter returned to the villa, arms loaded with shopping bags and cheeks still puffed with smile from a successful boutique raid and a plan to rile up the boys even more.

You opened the gate with your elbow and stepped inside the backyard patio—only to immediately stop dead in your tracks with the sight laid in front of you.

Because sprawled across the sandy grass was what looked like the aftermath of a dodgeball themed apocalypse slash war.

Beomgyu lay motionless on a beach towel, eyes closed like he was auditioning to be a corpse in a movie. Jake was dramatically stretching his arm like a wounded war hero, hissing in pain slightly. Jay stood nearby with a damp towel over his neck and a scrape on his neck, sulking for absolutely no reason.

“What the hell happened?” You asked, eyebrows raised.

It was almost comical how Jay was at your side in seconds, reaching for your bags before you could blink, which was comical by all means for someone who swore he hates being in your proximity.

“I’ll take those,” he said smoothly, plucking half of them from your arms, “you shouldn’t be carrying so much, that’s heavy.”

Jake was not far behind, “did he just mansplain gravity to you?”

“Shut up, Jake,” Jay muttered.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you?” You asked, dumbfounded, fingers burning from where Jay touched you.

“Why? Jake’s not the only gentleman in the house,” he muttered, close enough for only you to hear.

You looked up at him, not expecting to see his serious face, which only made your heartbeat faster as you gulped as turned away, stifling up your laugh midway.

“Wait, I‘ll help,” Jake said, gathering the two bags left in your hand.

“I didn’t ask any of you for help,” you said, though you made no move to take the bags back.

Behind you, the witness gallery had resumed commentary.

Isa shot up from her spot in the shade and launched herself at you, hugging you as if you’d just returned from war. “Finally! I thought I was going to die surrounded by flying dodgeballs.”

Yunjin stood nearby, arms crossed and face unimpressed, “never—ever, leave us alone with these men again. I’ve aged ten years.”

Beomgyu raised a weak hand from the towel, still flat on the ground. “I’ve been hit repeatedly without any cause.”

You crouched beside him, “why did you even play?”

“I existed,” Beomgyu said solemnly, “and that was apparently enough for me to be targeted.”

“Jay hit him in the thigh. Jake hit him in the back,” Yeonjun added helpfully, sipping from a coconut, clutching his own arm in pain.

You turned to Jake, narrowing your eyes. “Did you aim at his back?”

Jake looked scandalized, shaking his head like a dog.

“Your exact words were, ‘Oops, guess he blocked my shot at love,’” Jaemin chimed in from a hammock.

Beomgyu groaned, “my trauma is now a fuckass punchline.”

Jay reappeared on the patio, having dropped off your bags inside, and walked straight to you with the solemn dignity of someone who just ran errands for a queen. “You left for three hours and everything fell apart.”

“I can see that,” you said, not maintaining eye contact at the sudden appearance of them both, turning toward Jake.

Which probably wasn’t the finest choice either since he was sweaty all over, especially over his torso, trails of sweat dripping down his abs—same with Jay, who’s back was strong and flexing with his stretching.

Jake immediately leaned into the dramatics. “Might’ve pulled something during a save, i’m not too sure—might need a shoulder massage. Or, y’know—moral support.”

You just stared, a smirk on your face right after as you stepped into his space, “you just sprained your ego.”

Beomgyu wailed from the ground. “I sprained my soul!”

Winter, who had quietly been watching all of this unfold with the calm of someone used to unhinged group dynamics, nudged Isa. “Place bets?”

Isa grinned. “Ten bucks Jay nonchalantly offers her juice in five minutes. Jake will say something flirty and completely inappropriate in three. Gyu will fake a limp again, right about now.”

As if on cue, Beomgyu tried to sit up and instantly grabbed his leg. “Ah—uh! The pain—Y/N, ice me again. You’re the only one with healing hands.”

Jay stepped between you, “you’ve had enough ice. Let someone who actually played get some attention.”

Jake opened his mouth, then froze. “Wait, are we fighting over ice now?”

You turned to Winter, deadpanning, “let’s leave again.”

Winter only smirked, “yeah, the boutique was definitely a better place with the young owner flirting with you, helping you try earrings and all—those tattooed arms, yum,” she said.

None of this had happened.

She only wanted you to see the boys’ reaction.

“Who did what now?” Jake asked as if he had just been told that the Villa is haunted.

“Are you not capable of trying your own jewellery?” Jay asked, jaw clenched as he put on a shirt.

“Why? She helped us get a great discount—not to mention she got his number,” Winter said, way too happy as you laughed with her.

“Ahah—Can I have your phone for a second, Y/N?” Jake asked, wanting to check and delete the number of a guy he didn’t even know the name of.

“Way to be subtle, Jake,” Jay deadpanned and you only patted both their cheeks with a laugh, which made them freeze.

Absolute stupid men.

You sighed a second after, already regretting your return. “I swear, if one more person gets fake injured before the wedding, I’m throwing the entire villa into the sea.”

Jake beamed. “That means she cares.”

Jay rolled his eyes. “You do know you look pathetic, right?”

“And you’re in denial,” Jake shot back.

The tension thickened just as someone’s Gatorade exploded in the background.

Chapter 5: Desire never dies.

The bonfire cracked and sparked like it knew it was hosting chaos. A giant circle of mismatched bean bags, folded towels, and stolen pool chairs formed a rough arena around the flames. The ocean breeze was fresh, the fire hot, and the people? Unhinged beyond words.

You were freshly showered, makeup smudged just the right amount to look accidental, legs bare under your oversized hoodie. You claimed it was fate, and Jay hadn’t claimed anything, but he hadn’t stopped looking either.

“Welcome to the bonfire,” Hyuck bellowed, wielding a half melted marshmallow stick as if it were a sword, “where the rules are made up and your dignity—well, it doesn’t matter, except mine!”

Ever so theatrical, that’s Hyuck for you.

“Never did,” Beomgyu said from his dramatic sprawl near the fire, one arm tossed across his face as if he was participating in a Shakespearean play, way too dramatic.

You sat between Winter and Jake, a move that had been totally, completely random—except Jake had slid in before anyone else could, a déjà vu from last night, and Jay had taken the spot directly across from you. His arms were crossed, legs wide, face unreadable.

But his eyes? Those were locked on you like you were a particularly complicated riddle he didn’t want anyone else solving first. Academic issues much?

Isa spun the bottle like she was conducting a séance, her first victim being Yeonjun.

“Truth,” he said, already sipping his beer.

“Did you kiss the Dean’s daughter back in uni, yes or no?” Yunjin asked.

“How the actual fuck—”

“Yeah, we got our answer.” Yunjin chuckled.

Laughter roared, along with whistles especially from the boys. Jake’s knee nudged yours softly.

Then the second spin happened, then third. Fourth. Games, truths, safe dares. And then, of course, the bottle landed on you.

“Y/N,” Isa grinned like a villain. “Truth or dare?”

You hesitated for a second, taking a deep breath.

Jay tilted his head slowly at your hesitation, smirking, “what’s wrong? Scared?”

Jake smirked alongside, “Say truth. I dare you.”

Your head whipped to him. “You can’t dare me before I choose dare.”

Jay’s voice was soft, yet smug, “oh, she’s definitely choosing dare now.”

You gritted your teeth, rolling your eyes as you looked at him and said, “dare.”

Isa’s grin widened, “let’s fucking go—kiss someone’s neck. Dealer’s choice.”

Someone fake fainted as the few others screamed, groaning alongside.

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re all kids, school kids honestly.”

“But well, at least we know how to have fun,” Karina added helpfully, which did make you smile.

You could feel Jake’s presence beside you like a heat layer on skin, you could hear his heartbeat if you leaned just a little closer, meanwhile Jay hadn’t blinked once.

You turned, Jake’s breath caught, barely, but he sat still as you leaned in slowly, one hand on his thigh to steady yourself, the other resting against his shoulder.

Your lips hovered, just for a moment—long enough for everyone to stop breathing—then you pressed a soft kiss to the space just below his jaw.

It was warm, gentle, yet firm, making Jake exhale out sharply, his heartbeat rising at an abnormal pace as you pulled back.

Jay’s expression screamed that he was not amused by any means, not surprised either, or smug. It was simply tight lipped, almost dangerous.

Well, oops?

“Let’s keep going,” he said, his voice low, “It’s my turn, yeah?”

“Truth or dare?” Jaemin asked with a mischievous grin.

“Dare.” He said in a beat.

Beomgyu lit up, ready to stir trouble, “kiss Y/N, but—but somewhere worse than where she kissed Jake.”

You almost choked on your drink, “what do you mean worse?”

“I mean like—worse for you,” Beomgyu added. “Psychologically worse, something that you’ll remember, and since neck’s already taken, do better.”

Jay stood slowly, like he had all the time in the world. His shirt had sleeves rolled up just enough to make you question your moral compass, which was struggling to calibrate in all honesty.

“May I?” he asked.

He didn’t even look at the others—just you, and your heart betrayed you with how fast it pounded, yet, you nodded slowly.

He crouched in front of you, hand brushing your knee as he leaned in—not toward your face, but down to your wrist, and then, with obscene slowness, Jay turned your palm down and pressed his lips to the upper side of your knuckles.

It was gentle, unlike Jay’s personality, but also burning in a certain manner, almost possessive if you squint.

And you felt it all the way up your spine, when he looked back up, his face was close to you, too close for two average rivals. Your mouth was dry by now and Jake had gone statue still beside you.

You were pretty sure someone was clicking a picture of this, which only made it worse.

“That okay?” Jay asked.

You blinked once, clearing your throat as you said, “y—yeah.”

He stood up, successfully hiding the red in his ears, meanwhile Jake looked ready to commit arson.

You should’ve left after the first “kiss someone’s neck” dare. That was your mistake.

But no—you were still here. Sitting around two walking, talking, male ego laced puzzles who had now declared a full-blown psychological warfare via glances, smirks, and accidental touches.

Another round passed and you had to exchange hoodies with Jake, who now sat in your oversized cropped hoodie, sniffing your scent every now and then like a puppy, his own scent engulfing your body.

“New round,” Hyuck announced, kicking his flip-flop at Yeonjun, “no more kiddie dares, let’s get real. Who’d Y/N rather cuddle with during a thunderstorm?”

“Is this still a game or maybe, targeted harassment?” you asked, irritated at the teddy bear like boy.

“Just answer the question,” Winter said, eyes shining like a villain’s apprentice.

Jake was lounging beside you, one leg stretched out, his arm casually behind you, his fingers barely brushing your shoulder, almost warm.

Jay was still across from you, leaning back on his elbows, the firelight making his skin glow golden, his lips set in a flat line like he was already predicting the answer and bracing for disappointment.

Your gaze flicked between them in a sudden competition but you had an answer in mind, you took a breath, making everyone scream as you said “Jay.”

Jake’s body stiffened, not expecting that name coming out of your mouth.

Jay stilled for a second as well, before slowly composing himself, his lips curving into a smirk, despite his heart hammering against his chest, “good choice, smartie.”

“Yeah, nevermind, I’d like to change my answer,” you muttered, glaring.

“No take-backs,” Karina called.

“Oh, but wait,” Isa grinned wickedly, “next one’s for balance. Y/N—who would you fake date to make an ex jealous?”

You didn’t even pause, the answer obvious, “Jake.”

Jake turned to you, that flirty tilt back in his grin, “yeah? Interesting, babe.”

“Why?” Jay asked, sharp.

“She’d eat her ex alive with me on her arm,” Jake said smoothly. “Let’s be real, I’d wear tight shirts and pretend not to understand personal space.”

“As if you do now,” you muttered under your breath.

Jay rolled his eyes, “she doesn’t need a walking thirst trap. She needs strategy, understanding.”

“I’m the distraction, you’re a fucking PowerPoint presentation, who wants that, huh?” Jake shot back.

“Exactly,” you said before they could fight more, “Jake would make them regret, and Jay would make them suffer.”

Hyuck nearly choked on his drink. “That’s the most accurate thing ever said.”

“I have range,” you added with a proud sip.

Jay’s eyes held yours, “you have no idea.”

Oh.

You swallowed hard.

Before anyone could recover, Yeonjun clapped like a conductor. “Alright—final dare of the night. Y/N.”

You met his eyes, accepting your fate, “dare, again?”

Isa chuckled, “whisper the dirtiest thing you want, one to Jay, one to Jake. Well, just say anything that would drive them crazy.”

Everyone lost it, having fun at your expense oh so perfectly, a laugh leaving your own mouth as Winter winked at you, urging you well to rile up the boys.

Jay raised an eyebrow as Jake sat perfectly still.

You stood up, slow and deliberate, first leaning towards Jake, bending down, your lips brushing his ear, giving him goosebumps in the process.

“I want you to pin me down and make me fall apart on your tongue,” you whispered with the newfound confidence, courtesy of alcohol, but you couldn’t deny, you loved playing this game.

How could you not? Not when he inhaled sharply, jaw flexing as his eyes followed you when you crossed, making your way to Jay, who didn’t move an inch. You leaned in, lower this time, lips ghosting his neck.

“I want you to fuck the attitude out of me the next time we argue,” you said as Jay’s knuckles went white around his glass, his face turning towards you, lips almost brushing against your cheek.

You sat back down, cool and composed, Karina let out a dreamy sigh. “God, I love my wedding.”

Everyone laughed, fanning their faces at the sudden increase in temperature too. Jake’s hand was still twitching while Jay didn’t bother blinking, the fire crackled, the silence screamed as the game finally got over.

You stood up first. “I need sleep. And therapy probably,” you muttered.

Jake stood too. “I’ll walk you back.”

Jay was already turning toward the villa. “Don’t bother. I’m headed there too.”

You chuckled, almost scoffing at the two boys and their childish ways. You thought that would be the end of it. A few cheeky dares, some group laughter, an awkward side hug from Beomgyu—but no.

No, apparently hell hath no fury like two competitive men losing a fantasy battle they never even agreed to play in the first place.

Because as soon as the group began dispersing, the fire embers dimming into a warm glow, both Jay and Jake were on their feet.

And closing in.

“Hey,” Jake said, quiet, casual, his eyes were sharp.

Jay’s voice came in just after, low and dry, “so—”

You turned slowly, you could smell it coming, the confrontation. Tension coiled in the air as you were cornered, on the beach, at night, between two men who looked like they could be models for opposing fragrance campaigns.

“Just curious,” Jay said, stepping a little closer, “what made you pick me for the thunderstorm question?”

You blinked, not expecting them to ask this and not what you had whispered, “really?”

Jake crossed his arms, “actually—yeah. That was interesting.”

You opened your mouth, shutting it back for a second, “do I need a lawyer if I don’t wanna answer?”

“Jay for cuddling,” Jake said, eyes flicking to you, “but me for the jealousy plot? I’m just trying to understand the criteria.”

Jay narrowed his eyes, “yeah. Sounds like mixed signals.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, rubbing your forehead.

Jake’s voice dipped, quiet and smug. “Must’ve been a good whisper.” Jake said looking at how intensely Jay looked at you.

“I’ll kill you,” Jay snapped.

Jake grinned, “In your dreams.”

Your eyes widened, a laugh leaving your lips, “you guys are not actually fighting about this—”

“We’re not fighting,” they said in unison, not even looking at each other, making the whole situation more comical.

“We’re having a mature conversation,” Jake added.

“Very mature,” Jay agreed, “so, explain.”

“You want me to explain why I picked each of you for obvious different hypothetical situations?” you asked, incredulous.

They both stared at you—dead fucking serious as if this wasn’t a matter to be joking about at all.

You groaned, stepping back into the moonlight like it would save you, “okay, fine. You,” you said, pointing at Jay, “I picked for the thunderstorm cuddle because, and I hate saying this out loud—you’re stable. You don’t flinch at anything, you know me better, it’ll be safer, only if you behave and calm me down,” you cringed as you said so.

Jay froze on the spot, gulping as he looked elsewhere.

“Safe?” he repeated, like the word offended him. Like it wasn’t the highest compliment anyone had ever paid him.

You turned to Jake, “and you—I picked for the ex jealousy dare because you’re charming, effortlessly. You’d flirt with the plants just to make someone jealous, and somehow it would work, not that I’m charmed so, don’t give me that look.”

Jake’s brows lifted as he tried to look smug but he failed. Instead, he looked stunned. Neither of them said anything anymore. And for a moment, standing between them, you realized the fire wasn’t the warmest thing in this circle.

“But—” you added quickly, stepping back, “that doesn’t mean anything, it was a game, yeah? Chill.” You said testing the waters.

“Right,” Jay said, but his tone had cooled to something unreadable.

Jake nodded once, jaw tight. “Game, yup, got it.”

You looked between them and you swore—for one split second—they both looked at each other and decided simultaneously to back off.

Temporarily.

Like they knew the real game was starting now.

Chapter 6: A Sim and a sin.

It was hard to go back to your room, so you took a detour, talking with Karina about your day, and how she only smirked telling you how proud she is now that you’re finally getting some cock—to which you groaned.

That was basically her mission for her wedding, to get you dicked down.

Alas, you decided to get some well deserved sleep before the wedding rehearsals tomorrow, opening the door to your shared room and immediately regretting every decision that led you to this moment. Because inside, sprawled comfortably across the double bed, was Jake, in your hoodie, still, the same cropped hoodie from earlier, stretched over his torso like a model. One leg bent lazily, the other stretched out, jaw loose from tiredness, but eyes—alert. Watching you like he’d been waiting all this while for you to return.

Your body had the audacity to shiver, to show him that he affects you.

“Hey, princess,” he said, voice low, teasing, almost deeper than usual, “room service good enough for you?”

You didn’t answer, poking your tongue on the inside of your cheek at his blatant flirting, and because just then, the bathroom door creaked open.

Steam blew out, followed by Jay—freshly showered, towel slung low on his hips, water droplets trailing from his chest down to that dangerous dip of his abs.

He ran a towel over his hair and looked up, right into your eyes, pausing for a beat, only to smirk right after, remembering what you had whispered in his ear before he spoke up, “you’re staring.”

You snapped your eyes away, heat creeping up your neck, “you came out here like that on purpose.”

“Sure,” he said, accepting it, “I always forget clothes when I know someone’s waiting for me to fulfill their fantasies, and I’m not talking studies now, you sapiosexual.”

Jake rolled his eyes behind you, “yeah, mate. She’s already halfway there. See this is why you’re single, and she’s mine.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, turning your back to both of them and walking toward the closet.

You didn’t see the look they exchanged behind your back, didn’t see how both of them shifted—sat up straighter, watching you like you were a deer in a den of wolves, which was halfway true.

You rummaged through your bag, flustered, breathing uneven, that’s when the knock came, and you froze wondering who it could be.

Jake grinned, “well, that’s the sound of chaos.”

You opened the door, and there he was—Beomgyu, dramatically hunched, clutching his lower back like a poor animal who was hurt.

“I—I need you,” he gasped, acting perfectly to get his eyes watery.

Jay, towel still firmly in place, muttered, “you’ve got a solid five seconds to disappear.”

“It’s because of you both,” Beomgyu hissed, “you both killed me with your dodgeball bullshit. Doesn’t matter, Y/N, you’re the only one who can save me.”

Before you could react, he was already limping inside like a wounded war general, heading straight to your bed, and you let out a little laugh at his stupid antics.

Jake narrowed his eyes, “oh you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“I’m dying,” Beomgyu whispered, “and her hands are the only thing keeping me alive.”

He flopped onto the bed next to yours with a painful groan, “need your healing touch.”

You chuckled, “why are you like this?”

Jay’s voice was low, flat almost, “again, you’ve got three seconds to walk out or be carried out.”

“Carry me away, go on,” Beomgyu challenged, “do it, muscle boy.”

Jake moved first. “Okay, that’s it.”

He strode over and grabbed the nearest pillow—then smacked it across Beomgyu’s head.

“Gentlemen!” Beomgyu shrieked, almost falling down, “there’s a lady present! Where are your manners, let’s just behave now.”

“I’m trying not to kill you in front of her,” Jake muttered.

Beomgyu rolled onto his back with a dramatic moan, “Y/N, I need you to press right here, just gently, real slow—”

Jay appeared at the foot of the bed, “you want slow?” His voice was low.

Beomgyu gulped.

Jake was beside you now, way closer than he had to be, “god he’s testing us.”

“I’m testing the boundaries of my own trauma here,” Beomgyu corrected, “why are you even naked?” He asked, pointing at Jay who was in towel, and Jake who sported your cropped hoodie.

You reached for the ice pack Jay had set down earlier and leaned over Beomgyu’s back to press it, whispering in his ear, “okay, who put you up to this?”

“Uh—well, Winter and Yeonjun,” Beomgyu whispered back, and you laughed, making the other two boys wonder what was going on, so essentially, you followed his lead, not knowing how crazy Beomgyu could be.

Because, unfortunately, the moment your hand touched his shirt, he moaned. Like, a real moan, soft and dramatic, actually just downright ridiculous.

Jake tensed beside you while Jay’s towel almost fell off from pure rage. Now, that would have been a solid scene.

“Oh my god,” you hissed, yanking the pack back, “yeah, no, you’re done.”

“I was almost healed—”

“You’re almost dead,” Jay deadpanned.

Jake grabbed his arm. “Up. Out you fucking gremlin.”

Beomgyu pointed at you as he was frog marched to the door. “I’ll remember your kindness.”

“You’re crazy,” you muttered.

Then the door slammed and Beomgyu’s moan of “I’ll never forget you!” echoed down the hall.

Then came the silence.

Not the kind that meant the night was over, but the kind that meant it was just getting started.

Jay leaned against the dresser, towel slung dangerously low, water still trailing down his muscular chest like it belonged there. His arms were crossed, but his gaze was anything but casual, it was precise.

Jake was on the bed, still wearing your cropped hoodie, sleeves shoved up, the hem bunched halfway up his abdomen. He looked like a problem, the one you couldn’t solve.

You didn’t bother moving and neither did they.

“So—” you said, voice deliberately low, “those were a weird five minutes.”

Jake grinned slowly, almost challenging, “could have been six if you’d rubbed a little lower.”

You rolled your eyes, “you’re disgusting by the way.”

He nodded, unashamed, “yeah? And flexible for you.”

Jay exhaled softly, “you did look—focused, y’know?”

You turned to him, “for Beomgyu?”

He tilted his head, “still, got a reaction.”

Jake hummed, “not from you, though.”

“What does that even mean?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

He sat forward, straighter, “just saying. Maybe it wasn’t him that had your attention.”

Jay’s voice was low, as he said, “you’re still flustered.”

“I am not—” you paused, cursing internally. “Okay, this is ridiculous.”

You spun toward your suitcase, actually flustered by now, but you didn’t even get two steps before Jake called out.

“You know,” he said, voice deceptively light, “if you wanted someone else to moan your name tonight,” he stretched, a smirk on his face as usual, “all you had to do was ask.”

Jay didn’t laugh, nor did he smile, only bothering enough to say, “you really want to test that theory, Jake?”

Jake raised his hands, “just putting ideas out there, no harm dude, no harm.”

You stared at both of them with disbelief, also feeling it, the heat rising in your chest, curling low in your stomach like butterflies, while also twisting somewhere behind your ribs.

You needed to do better, they wanted to push? You could push back, and so you turned, walking slowly towards Jake first, confident, making his smile falter at the sudden shift in your demeanor.

You stopped right between his knees, staring down at him as he looked up at you, lips parted slightly, breath quieter now despite the rise in his heartbeat.

You reached down, hand grazing his thigh just barely, just a brush, just enough to feel the tension snap through his body like he’d get something he’s been after for ages.

“You really want to be next?” You asked.

“Next in—uh, what way?” He asked, gulping.

You leaned down, placing your hand on his chest over the hoodie, resting your palm there, pressing it further.

“You’ve been acting like you’re ready,” you whispered, “but you’ve barely touched me, Jakey.”

“Is that—an invitation?” He whispered, eyes darkened.

You smiled. “No, it’s just an observation.”

Then you pushed back gently—just enough to stand again, Jake’s face was unreadable, almost like a mix of holy shit and fucking hell do it again.

You turned your back on him then, walking towards Jay who hadn’t moved, his eyes flicking up as you approached him, and when you reached him, the only part of him that shifted was his mouth—twisting into a smirk that he knew drove you crazy.

“You planning on saying something, or will you just stand there looking hot?” you asked.

Jay’s eyes dropped to your lips, a little laugh escaping him at your boldness, “why choose one?”

You stepped closer, close enough that your shirt brushed his stomach faintly, close enough that you could see every drop of water still clinging on to his skin.

Then you reached up, slow, intentional, and slid your hand over his shoulder, across his collarbone, dragging a line down the center of his chest, down his torso.

Just a single finger and it was enough for Jay’s breath to be stilled. You tapped a droplet off of his sternum, “aw, you missed a spot.”

He looked at you, sharper than ever, stepping closer, putting up faux confidence, “why? You volunteering to dry me off?”

“Tempting,” you said as you leaned in, voice softer now, almost like a pity, “but I don’t think you’re the one who needs drying off right now, Jongseongie.”

That was all it took for Jay to lose his smirk, his composure and probably the last bit of sanity he held inside him.

Meanwhile, you smiled, taking a step back, eyes still shining with mischief, before you turned and stood right between both of them, hands loose at your sides.

Jake let out a soft, surprised breath, while Jay still didn’t bother blinking. You stepped back once more, letting them take you in, their arms almost opening to actually touch you.

But then you turned, walking back to your bed, slowly pulling back the blanket as you climbed in, your lip twitching up as you said, “but if either of you still tries to get brave after lights out,” you paused, looking both of them in the eye, “then try knocking. You never know what I’ll say.”

Neither of them spoke after that, they didn’t have to, not when you had clearly won this round. As tempted as they were, they knew you were playing with them, but soon, it would be otherwise, especially with their head gears turning at the fastest possible speed they could achieve.

And their silence? It felt like the loudest thing in the room.

Chapter 7: Cufflinks go on the inside, mate.

This morning was supposed to be peaceful, being the day of wedding rehearsals, you somewhat expected people to be on their best behaviour, not knowing the intense chaos that awaited you, destroying the peace.

Because downstairs, it was no less than a war zone with how Jaemin and Hyuck argued about the pancake toppings, Isa and Yunjin trying to find the lipgloss she lost yesterday, and Winter, who blasted her unhinged playlist on the speaker.

You stood at the center of it like the classic standing emoji, just guarding and sipping on your coffee, silently observing the explosion of the bridal duty chaos that overtook the villa.

Winter sat beside you, sipping on her mimosa, clad in her silk robe, “I have survived Mrs. Kim’s lectures, internships, a rodent in my pants, but this is where I draw the line—a wedding? The wedding of my close friend, mind you.”

You chuckled, “yeah well, you don’t expect the rehearsal to go smoothly, do you?”

Before either of you could reply further, in came the bride with her royal looking robe and hair curlers, clutching her phone as she fumed, “okay, i’ll ask this very respectfully—who the actual fucking fuck changed the seating chart? Why is my dad sitting next to the professor who still sends me weird memes? Actually, who even invited him here?”

You snorted along with all the other girls, “technically, I moved it cause there’s no way your uncle Park should be sitting near the open bar.”

“You literally colour coded my family based off of their chaos level and made the seating arrangement out of it?” Karina asked, disbelief clear on her face, soon turning into an expression which screamed impressive.

She sighed before her eyes landed on you and she launched herself, hugging you tight, almost making you lose balance but thankfully your coffee stayed safe, “you,” she said, leaning back, “your mind is working fine thank fucking god, I need you to wrangle Jay and Jake, your supposed boyfriends, for the rehearsal because god forbid one of them shows up shirtless then you’ll have to be the one to answer my family.”

You shook your head, “god no, why me? You’re the reason why they’re being this stupid too,” you said, accusing her.

“Because they both listen to you, and they’re in love with you,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, Winter and Isa nodding along.

And cue, you are choking on your coffee.

Karina chuckled, “yeah, swallow your truth, babe.”

You couldn’t believe this was happening, it was simply hard to wrap your mind around the fact that the not so shy anymore Jake, and the smartass Jay were actually after you.

It didn’t take you much time to get dressed up in a silky blue dress, not the one you will be wearing to wedding, just something you all ordered together to wear at the rehearsals, while Karina was clad in a white blazer dress with a clipboard, standing next to the wedding planner to orchestrate it all.

“Let the chaos ensue now,” Winter said, high fiving Yunjin.

“Amen,” Isa grinned.

You rolled your eyes, watching Jay and Jake argue about something, halfway dressed up, standing near the aisle.

“Cufflinks go on the inside mate,” Jake said, crossing his arms over his vest, with the top few buttons undone.

“Since when do you care about accessories?” Jay asked, rolling up the sleeves of his black button up.

Yeah, they looked as if they were ready for some sort of magazine shoot, especially with Jake’s curls looking effortless, and Jay’s jawline being sharper than ever, the sun making them shine more than usual.

“God forbid someone tries to look good,” Jake muttered.

“Who do you even have to impress?” Jay pressed.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Jake smirked and Jay only looked annoyed.

The sound of your heels clacking made them look up, and straight to you. There was no subtlety in their reactions, especially when Jake let out a low whistle, eyeing you like you’re the only morsel left for him to devour.

Jay stood up straighter, as if he was more spatially aware now, licking his bottom lip and trying his level best not to make it obvious that he was staring at you, miserably failing as he did so.

“Hey,” you smiled, making Isa chuckle as she watched the interaction from a distance.

“You’re—stunning,” Jake breathed out, losing composure, almost sounding like a pathetic loser.

“You clean up well,” Jay cleared his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

You raise your brow, “just well? And thanks Jakey,” you mumbled, and you swore you saw red creeping up Jake’s ear, almost making him seem like the Jake you knew during uni.

“Trying to be respectful, for now,” Jay replied, maintaining eye contact.

“Wow, that’s a first,” you teased, making the corner of his lip twitch up just a fraction before he composed himself again.

“He’s just saying that to get you riled up,” Jake mumbled.

“Bold of you to assume I don’t always do that,” Jay retorted, looking you in the eye.

You let a breath out, tilting your head with a little smile, “alright, enough of this.”

Karina marched in right then, “okay so, will you guys stop flirting so we can practice walking down the aisle?”

“Let’s go with both,” Hyuck slid in, arm around your shoulder, “would be a great show if you ask me.”

“Oh please, I already know who i’ll be voting off already,” Yunjin said, making both the boys look at each other with doubt.

“Not me for sure,” Jay shrugged.

“Excuse me? Not me for sure,” Jake argued.

You sighed as they looked one second away from arm wrestling, or well, wrestling in general if you must. That’s when you stepped in between them, grabbing Jake’s vest and Jay’s shirt, making them short circuit for a solid second.

“Now, behave before Karina throws you out of the wedding.” You pointed out at the girl, who glared at the boys instantly, her expression full of mischief (at the obvious tension between you three) changing in a split second.

“In position. Now.”

“You heard her, now no more arguments or I’m changing my partner,” you announced and Jay stilled.

“Well, I would love that, I’ll be your partner then—” Jake started.

“Shut it,” Jay said, being the one who is gonna walk with you.

The planner gave a relieved nod at the tension which was sorted now, somehow, till some extent.

“You guys are so dramatic,” Isa muttered, taking her spot a few steps behind with Heeseung, who looked like he was just here for the complimentary champagne.

“I’m literally sweating just watching them,” Beomgyu added.

“Okay!” the wedding planner clapped. “From the top! Groom’s party walks down first, then bridesmaids and groomsmen in pairs, followed by the maid of honor, and finally the bride. Let’s go!”

Karina stepped aside to join Jeno near the altar setup, mouthing good luck to you as she went.

“Shall we?” Jay asked, offering you his arm, giving a look to Jake in the background who clenched his jaw.

“One wrong step and I’m taking over,” Jake muttered to himself.

You linked your arm with his, and he only pulled you closer, to the point you were highly aware of his scent, his body heat, and how he gulped when he felt the proximity too.

“You’re doing this on purpose, right?”

You tilted your head toward him innocently. “hm? Doing what?”

“That dress, that look that smug little smile like you know exactly what you’re doing to me, to Jake.”

The tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You didn’t get a chance to respond, because from behind, Jake muttered, “Keep your voice down, man. She’s walking, not seducing.”

“Who says I can’t multitask?” You said, making Jay hold you tighter, while Jake looked as if he could combust on the spot.

You reached the end of the aisle, pausing in front of the altar. Jay stepped aside, but not before he brushed your waist with his hand, not being subtle about it by any means.

“We should walk together more often,” he whispered, letting you go.

Good fucking lord.

“You do realize I’m not letting him have the last word, right?” Jake said, offering Isa his arm as they moved, his eyes never leaving yours.

Isa patted his shoulder, “oh honey, at this point, I’m just praying we make it to dinner without a physical fight.”

Once the whole party had taken their turns, twice, Karina called everyone back and congratulated them for not fucking up this time.

Then it was the time for the next step, the rehearsal dinner, and you weren’t sure how much of it you could survive, but you were surely looking forward to it, taking a look at Jake first, who was already staring at you, then Jay, who too was fixated on you.

Karina blew her whistle, yes, an actual whistle—snapping everyone’s attention back.

“Alright my stupid little bridal and well, groom party, time to head to the rehearsal dinner. Move before I start pairing you up with random aunts and uncles.”

Jake let out a dramatic groan, “if I have to sit next to Aunt Haeun, I will riot. She force fed me sea cucumber a few minutes back.”

Jay smirked, “want me to hold your hand when she brings out the pickled fishes too?”

Jake cocked his head, eyes sharp, “want to build it outside?”

“Oh my fucking god,” you muttered, pinching the bridge of your nose, “yeah, no, I’m gonna need a shot before dinner, or maybe three actually.”

Right on cue, Beomgyu charged beside you with the energy of someone who absolutely lived for this. “Say no more, princess. I already know where the good tequila is hidden.”

“See, that’s why you’re my favorite,” you told him as he looped your arm with his and started leading you away from the aisle.

“I aim to serve,” he said.

You glanced over your shoulder—only to catch both Jake and Jay already watching you, both visibly annoyed that Beomgyu was the one at your side. Jay stuffed his hands in his pockets and muttered something to himself. Jake’s jaw ticked as he ran a hand through his curls, glaring holes into Beomgyu’s back.

Beomgyu didn’t even flinch, expecting that much, “and the feral boyfriends awaken,” he whispered proudly.

The rehearsal dinner was set outdoors, perfectly decorated with fairy lights wrapped around the low hanging trees, long tables already prepped with starter dishes and temporary name cards.

You were sat between Winter and Jay, with Jake sitting directly across from you, making it easy for him to look your way with lovesick eyes. Way to be subtle.

“One man will surely cry tonight,” Winter winced, clinking her glass with yours as you shook your head.

Jay had gone quiet, only for him to lean over and say, “you smell good.”

“Excuse me?” You said, looking at the man who chuckled, and it sounded way too rich for you to even comprehend.

“Just saying, as no one else has the balls to do so.”

You raised your brows, “is this your way to what? Flirt with me?”

He took a sip of his champagne, “if you want it to be.”

Jake leaned in, “she’s been using the same perfume since uni, nothing new—but yeah, you smell so good,” he said.

“Doesn’t make it any less distracting,” Jay answered.

You tried to calm your poor heart as now the two boys fought for your attention shamelessly.

“Funny, you said you don’t notice perfumes when I asked you about mine before the rehearsal started,” Jake challenged.

“Guess I only notice the people I like.”

You almost spit out the piece of chicken you had just taken a bite of at the absurdity of the situation, and of course, what Jay had said, not to mention the fact that Jake just knows about your perfume.

“Okay hold the actual fucking fuck up, did the Jay Park, the annoying broody old man, just admit he likes his rival?” Hyuck gasped and you groaned, hiding your face.

“Yeah, Beomgyu, bar again,” you said, grabbing his arm.

“Anything you want babe,” he replied.

“Oh yeah? Do tell him about the night, the perfume,” Jake said, leaning back and smirking.

“What night?” Jay asked, tensed all of a sudden and you literally ran as fast as you could, almost bumping into Karina’s mother who asked if you were okay and you nodded quickly.

“Okay, what night? Spill, when did you cheat on me?” Beomgyu asked, almost offended and you rolled your eyes, getting another drink.

“The farewell after party, I was drunk, went out on the balcony, it was raining and Jake followed me, sat down with me, gosh I don’t remember much but yeah he let me lean on his shoulder and told me he loved my scent,” you rambled and Gyu’s smile grew like a wicked man.

“Oh he’s been so down bad since uni,” he chuckled.

“Lord save me,” you groaned, “but it’s okay, we never met again, well, up until now.”

Gyu only laughed harder, leaning on the bar beside you with a dramatic sigh, as if this were the juiciest drama he’d ever come across, which fairly enough, was the truth, “no wonder he clutches his chest every time you wear that perfume and go near him.”

“Oh they’re coming again,” you groaned, trying to act normal, confident.

Jake arrived first, sliding up beside you with a smirk, “hope I didn’t scare you off with that memory.”

Jay came in on the other side, narrowing his eyes at Jake before turning to you. “So—this night he keeps bringing up, care to elaborate?”

You raised your brows, looking from one to the other, “why? You jealous you didn’t have a balcony moment with me in uni, Jay?”

“Wait what?”

You stared at both of them, exasperated and, frankly, two seconds away from running, “okay. Since we’re all apparently incapable of normal interaction, let me lay it out for you guys,” you turned to Jake, “yes, I remember the night, barely, I was drunk okay? You said I smelled good. I leaned on your shoulder. We did not kiss.”

Then you looked at Jay, “and yes, I’m wearing the same perfume. Not because I’m trying to seduce you two idiots, but because I like it, now if you’ll excuse me.”

You rushed out to get your two new glasses of whiskey as the guys stared at you, “she’s a problem, y’know?” Jay muttered.

“And you like that,” said Beomgyu.

“Oh I fucking love it,” said Jake with a smirk.

“Damn, she got y’all feral,” said Gyu.

“Yeah and imagine what will happen if I actually fucking try,” You said, turning and smirking before you walk away fully.

Jake whistled, and Jay smiled just a smidge, both losing their cool.

Beomgyu only smirked.

“Down fucking bad.”

Chapter 8: Double bed caters to three.

You were beyond tired and ready to retire to bed after the intense day you had today, only to find Karina waiting for you right outside your room, a sheepish smile on her face.

She hugged you the second she saw you, “hey, so, Jeno’s great aunt arrived today when she wasn’t even gonna attend the wedding and we don’t have any beds left so we’ve taken yours—I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry please share the bed with your two hot boyfriends who are ready to devour you, okay bye,” she rambled everything in one go, leaving you stunned.

And then, she ran away before you could say anything in return. You stood there, frozen, blinking once, and twice, then your eyes widened.

“Oh fuck—no, absolutely not,” you almost cried out, this couldn’t be happening, not when you had practically teased the boys all day, god no.

You took a deep breath, opening the door with more force than required and were instantly hit with the view of two men, or more accurately, wolves who were waiting for their prey (read: you).

Jay sat against the headboard with his grey sweatpants on and nothing else, his shirt was thrown somewhere across the floor, hair damp from a shower, jawline sharp, and lips red from how he bit them in anticipation the whole time. His arms were folded behind his head, biceps flexed, and eyes focused lazily on the ceiling like he wasn’t diving you crazy.

Jake was on the other side of the bed, laid out like a prince who was carefully, clad in your hoodie from earlier, hood up, soft wavy hair spilling out, collarbones peeking where the fabric drooped just enough to make your imagination run wild, his legs were stretched, one arm behind his head, the other scrolling through something on his phone like he hadn’t been waiting for this exact moment all night.

They both wanted to pounce on you by all means, the difference was, one was aware and flirting, the other in denial but full fledgedly flirting too.

Both their heads turned in sync when they heard you, as if they had finally spotted their prey.

“Welcome back, princess,” Jake chuckled.

Jay’s gaze dragged down your body like he still couldn’t get used to how good the dress looked on you, and imagining how it would look even better on the floor.

You didn’t speak, just slowly turned around in hopes of like maybe, maybe, walking away and sleeping on one of the chairs near the pool.

“Yeah, don’t even try to run,” Jay said smoothly, already sitting up straighter.

“Cute,” Jake added.

“I cannot do this,” you muttered, almost tugging at your hair.

“Hey, we’ll behave y’know?” Jake said.

“Yeah, being gentlemen and all,” Jay added not so helpfully.

“Touch me,” you said, holding up a finger as a warning, “either of you, and I swear I’ll smother you with a fucking pillow.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, unbothered, “you think that’s gonna stop us?”

You stared at him in disbelief, the nerve of these men oh gosh.

Jake just winked, “we’ll be so good, I promise.” He whispered, a hint of suggestive undertone lacing his voice, the kind that made you feel weak in your knees.

“Uh-huh, you’re literally not capable of that,” you said, storming toward the bathroom, “don’t even look in my direction. Turn off the lights. Face opposite walls. Do not breathe near me. No touching I swear to god I’ll chop your hands off.”

You slammed the door and changed into the comfiest, least sexy pajamas you could find, which still somehow didn’t provide enough protection from the two hungry men outside, who were willing to offer you their everything, or better, they knew they were already yours.

So, when you emerged in your tank and shorts, you saw the shift in their expressions. Jake’s smirk flickered. Jay’s eyes lowered slowly, then snapped back up like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, and you hated how warm your skin suddenly felt.

You walked to the bed like it was the new battleground you were sent to with no armour or ammo; and yanked the blanket back, crawling in between them with the slow dread.

Jake exhaled, low and amused, ‘’middle, huh? Bold move, princess.”

The nickname, that fucking nickname, it should have been illegal how perfectly it rolled off of Jake’s tongue, especially laced with his accent.

You glared at him, “yeah, want me to go to Jay’s side then?”

That shut him up for a second, “hey, I’m warmer than him.”

“Oh, the fuck you’re not,” Jay replied.

“See, this is why I’m in the middle, now, say one more word and I will throw hands.”

Jay’s voice came low, “yeah? Don’t make promises you’re not ready to keep.”

You groaned and buried your face into your pillow, muttering, “I’m going to start sleeping in the car, or the pool, or just with Jeno’s great aunt at this point.”

Beside you, Jake leaned in just enough for his voice to reach your ear, completely ignoring your previous comment, “you still smell like that perfume.”

And on the other side, Jay murmured, “it drives me crazy.”

You closed your eyes, rubbing your thighs together to prevent your composure from breaking. This bed was hell reincarnated.

Jay had started behind you like a gentleman, but now his bare chest was flush to your back, his palm low on your stomach—so low you were sure it had stopped counting as innocent a long time ago. His thumb stroked tiny, lazy circles there, each one drawing you closer to a possible cardiac arrest.

Jake, in front of you, had long abandoned the sweet idea of personal space. His leg was tangled with yours, his hand resting right at the upper part of your thigh. That would’ve been fine if his fingers weren’t moving, occasionally touching the edge of your shorts like he was counting how far he could go before you snapped.

Some gentleman they were.

You were still, losing your mind, almost afraid that others would hear the erratic beating of your poor little heart.

“Still awake?” Jake murmured, voice ready to commit sins.

“I can’t sleep with sticky fucking limbs all over me,” you muttered, voice tight.

Jay chuckled deeply behind you, his nose brushing your neck, inhaling your scent, “you seemed pretty comfortable five minutes ago.”

“That was before you started petting me, I was asleep.”

Jake’s fingers only trailed higher, “petting? I wouldn’t call this petting.”

Your whole body tensed at his voice getting deeper each second, body shaking ever so gently as you tried not to lose your composure, because what will these idiots even do if you threaten to actually leave?

“Okay,” you said, breathless, “touch me again and I’m leaving.”

Jay’s lips caressed your jaw, “oh fuck no, you’re not.”

You twisted your body, trying to free yourself from the two horny creatures, flinging off the blanket and sitting up, heart pounding, ready to test them, or well, get them to behave.

“I’m going to Beomgyu’s room.”

Jake lifted his head, jaw ticking, “you’re doing what now?”

Jay propped himself up on an arm, eyes sharp, “I said, no. You’re not.”

“He has a single bed and self restraint, unlike the two of you.”

You stood, reaching for your hoodie and the boys panicked big time, before their eyes darkened at the thought of you in someone else’s bed. Like that’s ever gonna happen.

Jake’s voice went low, “you’re bluffing.”

“If either of you touch me again,” you started saying and they froze before you turned, smiling sweetly, “I’m going to go sleep on Beomgyu’s bed. Naked.”

Then came the silence, loud, dead, almost suffocating.

Jake sat up so fast the blanket fell off his lap, “oh fuck you’re not, you’re not serious.”

Jay was already reaching for you, “try taking one more step.”

“I dare you to stop me.”

Jake stood too, grabbing your waist, “yeah? Try walking out like that.”

Jay pulled you backward by your waist in record time, like he’d done it a hundred times, like he knew exactly how to handle you, and you landed flat on your back between them again, breath stolen from the force of it.

“Guys—”

“You think we’re letting you go to Beomgyu’s like this?” Jay’s voice was low.

Jake’s hand slid over your exposed thigh, firm now, holding you in place, “you wanted a reaction, princess? Congratulations, you got one. Now, get back to sleep.”

You squirmed beneath the blanket, but Jake’s leg hooked over yours again, locking you down.

Jay leaned over you, one hand rested beside your head, “say it again.”

You blinked up at him, voice now faltering, “s—say what?”

Jake’s lips brushed your collarbone, “that you’re gonna go to his bed—naked, hm?”

You stuttered, “I—I wasn’t actually—“

Jay smirked, an attractive chuckle leaving his lips, “right answer, baby.”

He dragged the blanket back over all three of you and collapsed beside you with a satisfied hum, pressing his hand to your stomach again—higher this time.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Jake’s hand was back too, fingers gliding down your inner thigh now, warm and unbothered, “next time, just ask for attention, yeah?”

You let out a shaky laugh, body warm, “you two are impossible.”

“You love it,” they said in unison.

You groaned and covered your face with the blanket, but under it, you were burning.

And their hands? Absolutely everywhere, holding you down with a strong sense of possessiveness.

Oh, you were so in trouble.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

GO TO PART 2: HERE.

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