chaconnehoon-reblogs

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

Omg😵‍💫 this is actually cinematic I need to add this to the rec list on my main !

harvest of purity — sunghoon [ 박성훈 ]

pairing ⦂ sunghoon ⨯ fem. reader

synopsis ⦂ au in which an innocent, shy, and faithful sunghoon takes a summer job as a farmhand. he’s never indulged on his desires until the farmer’s daughter shows him a taste of sin. although riddled with guilt, he cannot deny or escape the new rousing feelings that impurify him. especially when she's set on ruining him every chance she gets.

genre ⦂ smut, slow burn romance, strangers to lovers word count ⦂ 29k tags ⦂ fluff and angst, repressed desires, innocence loss, guilt and shame, exploring relationships, falling in love, southern gothic vibes, summer au, clingy down bad sunghoon, ‘mean’ morally gray reader, both are weirdo loser freaks content advisory ⦂ mdni ! dark-ish content ⚠︎ sexually explicit content in four scenes: handjob, oral (m. rec.), dry humping, thigh fucking, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption!kink, degradation!kink, praise!kink, switch!hoon, he whines whimpers and cries; religious themes, concepts, corruption, and criticism; manipulation, animal death, blood, intense scenes, abusive parenting, gun mention and use

note ⦂ poured my heart out. i hope you love it as much as i do. dedicated to my other evil, off-putting, and/or weird girls┊reblogs and feedback encouraged ⇀ playlist ⸝⸝ masterlist 🌾

　You’re not sure what life in your small town was like before you were born. You can imagine it’s not too different from what it is now though. The thing about old country towns is they never seem to change. Open fields and miles of farmland. Two gas stations, one grocery store, a few family owned vegetable stands or in-home produce product shops. Only one notable neighborhood where the majority of the townspeople lived if not hidden somewhere else in the countryside. And too many churches to keep track of if the abandoned ones were included in the count. 

You like to think your parents were happy before you too. Hopeful and optimistic when offered to take over your uncle’s farm. Excited for the next step in their relationship after their marriage. They were the ideal family dream coming to life: high school lovers, engaged after graduation, married, a career handed to them through family with a large property of land and lovely farmhouse. All that was left was to grow that family. To have children to not only help tend the fields and animals but run around barefoot, all smiles, and wide eyed. 

You were positive that it was something they wanted. 

But life couldn’t have been that easy for them; it would’ve been too gratuitous of a blessing.

The day you were born, your father knew there was something greatly wrong with you. He claimed that on the day you ripped your mother open, screaming and crying, that God spoke to him for the first time. He called it divine intervention. Believing the birth of your soul was a red-herring of all that was set to come but God would show him the light, the truth: that you were nothing short of evil and needed saving. 

That year on the farm there was nothing but death. It only furthered your father’s harsh thinking of you. The crops and produce either died or rotted before it had the chance to grow or ripe. The animals were dropping dead from unknown illnesses. Every female livestock that gave birth passed in doing so. Barely any profits were made that year. Taxes were rising and so were the prices of nearly everything. It was a huge toll for your family, especially when raising their first child. Before you were even conscious of the situation everything was already deemed your fault. 

Through the harrowing struggle, your father’s optimism turned to resentment. He claimed that bringing you to the farm was not like bringing a daughter home, but a corrosive parasite. He believed that you were the reason for the life being sucked away from their perfect farm life. So, he turned to the only thing that he could trust to save the family from your curse: God. Begging and pleading through prayers every morning and night to the sky for a better season. 

He studied religion here and there before taking over his brother-in-law's farm but with the farm failing for the first time, he took a change of career paths. He was already well known among the locals, close with the church goers in the community. And somewhere along the way, he managed to start preaching himself. Nearly every christian in your town moved churches to follow where he went. Like sheep to a shepherd. 

If only they knew what you did, what he was truly like behind the closed doors of your home. How his devotion was turning to violence. Day by day, becoming uglier. 

While your father busied himself with his new found family, often away from home on the farm, the crops and animals began to thrive again. Slowly but surely, growing and regaining health. He would say it’s God’s doing, a small taste of His salvation. 

Your early years were mostly troubled by the relationship of your parents. Too young to fully understand their disputes, drawing at the kitchen table with their yelling sounding the house. It was always about you, that much you knew. Because you watch and you listen. Quick to learn that they tried for another child but never had any success. They wanted someone else to be their baby. Something that felt more like a blessing than you. Your father constantly spitting in your mother’s face that you were the rot to the fruit of her womb. And then he would always end up leaving by slamming the door and your mother would always join you at the table with tears and a bottle of wine. You always just watched, listening in silence. Perhaps just born resilient.

Growing up was different for you compared to most of the kids in your town. You never had the opportunity to make many friends being homeschooled. The only time that was spent around others your age was kindergarten. Kindergarten was short lived because of your behavior; the teachers at school were concerned about you. How you were mean, rough, and sinister with your actions towards others. Picking on the kids you were simply interested in because of how different from you they were. Drawing pictures of gutted cattle or dead, half developed baby chicks still in their shell and giving them as gifts to the teachers. Sharing to classmates the cruelty of farm life and why it was pretty with a smile. 

Your father loved to find out about this, you could see it in his eyes. The way they were wicked and screamed I told you so to your mother. You didn’t understand why it was bad or caused trouble. You were only having fun for the first time. The way the kids ran away crying or the teachers wore faces of shocked horror, it made your insides light up in joy. A new feeling—a sense of excitement. You didn’t know it was sick. And of course, it was taken from you. You were removed from school and your mother became your teacher. Your classmates became stuffed animals and the real ones in the barns. It was hard for you to find that joy you briefly felt with others. 

Sometimes you had a glimpse of it again when your father would punish you. But even that you grew sick of. The mess, the stench of it all. Sticky and red, worse in the heat of summer. He drilled the sick moto for his actions into your head, “I know no punishment, only mercy.”

Father took you both to church more often after that. He had a false image to uphold afterall, one of a happy, God loving family. In his ego he had to prove that his preaching and prayers could fix you, save you. But that was only admitted at home, loud and scary to your mother. Your poor mother, weak and defensive of you, eventually waved her white flag. You wished she kept fighting for you and that she wouldn’t begin to see you the way your father did. 

Childhood and adolescence was a string of questions about yourself. Never quite finding out what made you so bad to be seen as devilish when all you thought of yourself was curious. Perhaps just unlucky to be correlated with negative happenings on and off the farm, always gone without a chance of understanding. Despite it all, you knew well enough the way your parents talked and looked at you was without unconditional love. 

On your 17th birthday, the family dynamic made the biggest shift to be experienced. 

At this age, you had such a strong sense of independence and with the lack of parental guidance and monitoring, you would leave town when you could. Ride your bike down the long road to the bus stop at the center of town and take the bus into the city over. Your mother was generous with allowance and you saved your money well, only spending it on books or trips to the movie theater. A form of escape that allowed you to learn more about the world and all the things your parents tried to keep hidden from you. A way to learn how to be human. 

So when your father was tearing your room apart in search of the same gift he re-gifts you every year, he found some things that made his stomach churn. Every year for your birthday he rewrapped the same, first ever, bible he’d given you. Funny enough that he gave you anything at all considering he never even referred to it as your day, only his day of revelation. And to his disgust, on his sacred day, he found books and journals of explicitly detailed copulation and debauchery. 

He almost fainted. Stumbling over his own feet, hands shaking as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the words on the pages. That was the only time you smiled on that day. Just for a second. And then a glimpse of hell broke loose. 

In a rage, he destroyed everything. Your mother stood next to you in tears, telling him to stop and stop. Her hands covered her face but she saw everything through her fingers. You only watched in silence, hands balled in fists by your side. A silent hatred and anger coursed in you. He called you names that no man of God should, especially to his own daughter. 

“You’re a disgraceful deviant of Satan! I should’ve known. My own day of revelation is a curse!” You watched him rip pages apart, his voice booming through the house. “Years spent praying for you and this is how you turn out?! Succumbing to nothing but a dreaming whore?!”

A part of you liked his mean words. It was so rare for him to use such colorful language. 

You knew what would come next. He was going to have you ‘cleansed’. Something he always did when he discovered something new and sacrilegious of you. 

But it didn’t come. Because there was no dying, old sheep on the farm at the time. He did make a promise to not forget though. A promise to have you washed in sacrificial, blessed blood on a day you least expected. 

Your father left after that, leaving you and your mother behind. He moved to the city to continue his preaching at a larger church. He became known as the closest reverend to God for miles and miles. Lost in his ways, he only made visits when he needed to sort things out for the business of the farm.

You were content with his departure, yet couldn’t quite understand why your mother missed him. As far as you’ve seen, he was never kind towards either of you. 

　But now, it’s several years later. And although you’re free of your father’s heavy presence and homilies, he still makes his trips to the farm. You can feel the air change whenever he does, as if you’ve gained a sixth sense for his coming. Naturally intuitive to things having spent your childhood walking on eggshells in your own home. 

And today, the air feels particularly chill for summer. The breeze sweeps in through your open window. The forecast called for nothing but sunshine all week, yet there’s an angry, dark cloud hanging over your farm. A foreboding feeling shivers through you, and you know he’s going to fulfill his promise today. You sigh and slide out of bed. “Let’s get this over with.”

You spend the morning doing your usual routine. Brushing teeth, washing your face, then dressing in farm work attire. Your breakfast consists of tea and your mothers homemade strawberry scone. Next is tending to the animals. Your mother usually takes care of the crops and gardening. It’s a quiet and early morning, as most are. The both of you keep to yourselves, just doing what needs to be done day by day. 

The sound of a car is heard coming down to the long dirt road and you know who it is by the sound. It’s a fancier vehicle than the one he left this property with years ago. A meaner part of you likes to think his greedy hands got into that mega church’s donations but you’re too self aware of the successful farm your family owns. 

Your father parks in front of the house and your mother is quick to rush over to him, presumably with many questions: How have you been? Are you hungry? Thirsty? What brings you here so early in the month? 

You roll your eyes at her desperation to cling onto the relationship that clearly ended when you were a child. 

You place a hand on your hip, leaning your weight to the side that isn’t carrying the heavy bucket of chicken feed. Walking away from the coops and back towards the shed by the house, you make eye contact with your father despite only taking a glance. 

He watches you with narrow eyes from the lowered window of the car he’s still sitting in, very much not listening to a word your mother is saying. 

He calls your name before you can open the shed. Spinning on the heels of your boots, you turn around with raised brows of questioning. 

He mouths the words sacrificial tree as he exits the car. Your mother sees this. She wears pained disappointment as she scurries away. Presumably to the barn where the sheeps and lambs are kept. She might as well be a sheep too, you think. 

The bucket slips from your fingers and drops to the patchy dirt grass by your feet with a thud, spilling over in a mess that will be cleaned later. 

You don’t bother giving him a nod of understanding. You just turn around and begin your walk to the tree line where the man made path is. Knowing it would take some time for his preparations, you walk to the lake that’s hidden behind the farmland. 

It’s a brief walk through your familiar woods. Once at the short wooden dock, you sit down at the end, taking in the gloomy summer scenery. A light fog hugs over the water. You bring your knees to your chest, in your sitting position, and hug yourself the same way. 

This is your favorite place out of all the land your family owns. It’s serene, mostly. Always quiet. You’re the only one who comes here. And it’s nice to swim with when the weather warrants it. There’s a feeling here that’s hard to feel anywhere else you find yourself. Sometimes you imagine what it would be like with someone else, but you doubt it would be as nice. Trouble has a way of following you, it seems. You frown at the thought. 

It’s silent like this for a few minutes, just you trying to find a sense of calmness before the impending chastisement. Then you hear some rustling of leaves, heavy footsteps following. You don’t turn around yet, you only wait for the call of your name. Your time of tranquility is too brief. You sigh before giving yourself a squeezing hug. 

“It’s time,” the reverend calls out loudly, “quickly now, we have new farmhands arriving soon.” The sound of his feet walking away is when you stand. You wave a goodbye to the foggy lake before parting ways. Your feet move unconsciously, taking to where your body knows to go. 

Leaves crinkle underneath your boots and twigs snap. The trees’ branches sway in the gentle morning breezes that pass. 

In the mix of the small forest, man made crosses of sticks or plywood are spaciously scattered. Like a graveyard to all your bad doings. Most small but one large. Old rotted wood that stands crooked and begging to fall over right next to the largest, strongest tree. Your eyes, that are trained to ground, move upwards the cross and then to the tree. Your father stands there with a large knife in hand. Your mother waits cautiously not too far away. Her demeanor is frightful as if this is the first time. Coward.

An old sheep hangs by its hind legs from a sturdy tree branch. Unmoving and defenseless. Big beady, dumb eyes look in all directions but you. You think it must feel the same guilt as yourself, sorry that its life purpose is to embarrass you, make you hate what you are. 

“God told me to make a sacrifice to prove my faith. He guides my hand in washing your soul clean of sin. So here I am with our blessed, dying lamb.” He’s said this every time. His voice is always miserably rehearsed and preacher-esque. 

You thought long ago that this was their, the lambs, only use on the farm. It’s a shame. All that devotion has made him so ugly and violent. 

You make small steps closer to the lamb. It’s whining in bleat baas and mehs. Does it know what’s happening? Is it scared? You like the lambs, sheeps. Pure white, soft, and docile. They never fight back. They just take it. I doubt they need restraints. You could hold them above me just the same and they’d never resist. 

“Move faster, for the love of God. Yeah, stand right there underneath like you know how to.” He instructs you, annoyed. His patience running thin as the distant sounds of a truck makes way down the dirt road to the farm property. 

“Okay…” You don’t fight him, with arms crossed behind your back and a hand squeezing around your own wrist, you move closer. Maybe you’re a lamb too. 

Maybe all your father really was is the executioner. 

He raises the knife as he begins to speak, it slides over its cotton, white throat but does not cut, “Revelation 7:13-17 Then he told me, ‘These are those who come from the great tribulation, and they’ve washed their robes, scrubbed them clean in the blood of the Lamb. That’s why they’re standing before God’s Throne. They serve him day and night in his Temple. The One on the Throne will pitch his tent there for them: no more hunger, no more thirst, no more scorching heat. The Lamb on the Throne will shepherd them, will lead them to spring waters of Life. And God will wipe every last tear from their eyes.’” He slits its throat in a quick, harsh movement. The blood spills just as fast, squirting spurts of red before it comes pouring down onto you. “Face up,” you obey even though it brings you rage, “it ought to cleanse those unholy thoughts I know that are still in there.” 

Head raised to the sky with eyes and mouth squeezed shut, you let it consume you. Warm, thick and wet washes down from your head onto your clothes then down to your feet. The smell of animal, metallic iron covers you. It’s sticking to your hair, eyebrows and lashes. You can already feel your clothes clinging to your skin in the dirtiest ways. 

You stand there, drenching in the its blood. Your father speaks again, firm and slow, “Say it with me now, ‘I know no punishment, only mercy.’” All you feel is the animal’s rain of life flooding you.

You open your mouth to speak but are quick to spit and cough out the blood that manages to get into your mouth. Smack. 

“I don’t have time for this,” his voice sounds like an echo, your head is ringing from the harsh swing of his hand. The skin of your cheek stings. He hits like a bitch, you think. “Say it with me now, dammit!” You can feel him wipe his bloodied hand on the side of your shirt. 

You step back from under the red shower. “I know no punishment, only mercy.” Your words align with his in the perfect paced harmony you’re trained to do so. Enunciated, slow and strong, through gritted teeth.

There’s a beat of silence before the sound of your parents footsteps walking away. 

Standing there in red, yet to open your eyes, you breathe out a shaky sigh of defeat. It sounds more like a growl. With the mostly clean hands you kept safely behind you, you bring them up to wipe the blood from your face. You don’t dare to look at the dead animal in front of you. Being covered in it is enough alone to make you feel sick. 

You think of going back to the lake, jumping in and letting the blood wash off you there, but knowing you’d either walk back with further drenched clothes or naked didn’t seem like options you wanted to deal with either. So you just head back to the house. It’s a slower walk than need be, but you just felt like avoiding the eyes of the newcomers, hoping they’d be off in the fields or in a barn by the time you walk through. You feel numb. 

You’re wrong though, by the time you’re passing the barns and coops, the group of new farmhands are already lined up outside the horses’ stable. Your mother is talking to them, although not all are paying attention. Only a few pairs of wide eyes follow you. Catching the sight of you must really shock them but you can’t blame them. Something about this makes you excited. You stop in your tracks and look around to see if your father’s car is gone. It is. The realization feels like a wave of relief and it suddenly feels brighter outside already. 

You take a glance down to your disheveled appearance. Shirt, pants, and boots painted like the barns. You look back to the group, brushing the soiled hair back from your face. Some pieces stay stuck, in the early stages of drying against your skin.

It’s safe to have a little fun. 

You begin a slow walk over to the group. You take a headcount and there’s five of them. Two younger men, closer to your age. The other three look a bit older, not by much but definitely older. Your mother is yet to turn around from whatever rundown she’s giving them. Too dense to even recognize that now none of them were paying any attention to her. 

You creep up beside her and open with, “Hello,” your voice is louder than even you’ve heard it be in a long time. It’s nice to be heard, noticed. You usually avoided the farmhands, but this summer was going to be different. You decided this on the walk over. 

Being cooped up on the farm for so long made you different, it’s obvious to anybody. Not properly socialized in your developmental years caused you to be an anomaly to the ones who did come across you. Enigmatic from far away and up close. Now isn’t the greatest example though, the situation is too clear as to why. 

Your mother turns to you, gasping and jumping back slightly in the shock of your gross state and sudden introduction. “My goodness, girl, whatta ya doin’ here like this?” Her voice is hushed, clearly unsettled with the situation. 

They all just stare at you, open mouthed and bewildered. You take the time to get a good look at each of them up close. Your eyes follow their faces individually down the line. And then they stop. 

At the end of the line is a man more beautiful than the ones you’ve seen in the movies. You feel stuck in time, left with parted lips, staring at the man before you. And far too intently for your character. He stands tall, sharp, pale, and elegant. What is a boy like this doing here? He averts his eyes from you, clearly uncomfortable by what’s before him. He looks uneasy, shifting his weight foot to foot with his hands behind his back. His pretty eyes glance around from you to your mother to the other men and the ground. He simply doesn’t know what to do with himself. You find it dangerously darling of him. 

You don’t even realize the small smile that takes your lips. You step closer to him and he steps back, now looking at you with wide eyes of small fear. You extend your hand to him, it’s coated in drying blood. He gulps and the sight, his adam’s apple bobbing in such a biteable neck stirs something in you. This will be far more fun than you intended. 

You say your name softly for introduction and step a little closer, “Nice to meet you," you feign cuteness as much as you can, looking up at him through your blood clumped lashes. It’s clear to everyone there is something off; there’s little to no real emotion behind your voice and face. 

Your mother eyes you suspiciously as you corner the handsome man, but she says nothing. Sometimes she fears you too. 

He looks from your eyes to your hand, having an internal battle with himself on what to do, “Ah, I am Sunghoon... Nice to meet you too.” His politeness must be stronger than his frighteness, because he takes his hand in yours and shakes it gently. His hand is large in yours, nearly covering it entirely. You squeeze it hard, your eyes never leaving his, trapping him in the scene. 

He wants to look away, to hide somewhere. The way his skin crawls tells him he’s a prey already in the mouth of a predator. And you know he’s nervous under your intense gaze because your hand feels like a lamb is still bleeding above you. His palms are sweating, and it’s nowhere near hot enough for that yet. Your smile grows to a smirk. 

Although you’re wearing the lamb, having Sunghoon’s hand in yours made you feel like a wolf. 

　Sunghoon’s first day of his summer job starts off duller than he imagined. The sun isn’t out this morning and it only intensifies his anxiousness, as if the grey skies reflect his inner emotions. He’s already new to the area, away from home and staying in an apartment not far from his college in the city. A private, christian school that he studied hard to get into with his friend. He wishes his best friend and roommate, Jake, was joining him in this job, but Jake already had plans to teach at a summer soccer camp for kids through their school. 

He found this opportunity through the college church they attend together. A reverend from another church in the city came to visit one Sunday, handing out flyers to the young men in hopes of finding farm help. The pay is good and the bus fairs to the small town over where the farm’s located is covered. He’s never done work like it before, nevertheless was he going to let a simple offer pass him up. 

Things are going smoothly to start, being told how to care for, clean, and feed the animals to crop preservation. Everyone would have their own specific roles on the farm. Sunghoon was assigned the easier of the tasks, either feeding animals or watering and fertilizing the vegetables and fruits crops. He learns there are already regular farm workers that would come throughout the week to collect produce, material, and use the machinery for the more laborious work. And if she wasn't around when needed then they could ask any of the regular employees for assistance or find her at the house. 

As the farm owner is about to give details on the horses’ maintenance, a girl saunters in. And the anxious feelings become of Sunghoon all over again. His eyes are wide, taking in her appearance. The smell of the farm dissipates and putrid copper takes over. The worst part is how calm she appears, and the fact that she’s unbothered with all that she wears. 

He thinks his brain short circuits, everything seeming muffled and unreal. He doesn’t even realize he introduced himself or touched her. It all was too quick and unfamiliar for him to grasp. 

He watches as she walks away, back to the house that sits slightly over the hills and valleys of the property. His expression is blank, blinking slowly at the strange girl then down to his hand that’s stained red too. 

“Don’t pay her no mind,” the woman speaks up, she sounds as if she’s warning them. “Just get yer work done and when everyone’s finished y’all can head back home. I won’t ask too much of ya in yer first month here, alright? That might be a different story later.” She tries to end the statements in humor with her forced laugh. 

Sunghoon nods but his eyes don’t leave his dirty hand. The other men nod along too and give their ‘yes, ma’ams’ in return. 

The woman continues walking them around the farm, listing rules and guidelines they must follow, along with advice and tips for the work they’ll be doing. 

The day flows as easy as it can for Sunghoon. He doesn’t talk much with the other farmhands. He also doesn’t know them well enough to be comfortable in their conversations, so he just exists in awkward silence, sometimes reacting. While they can joke around and find fun in the work, his mind keeps wandering off to the girl from earlier, to you. How your empty eyes held onto his and small hand even tighter. He thinks the palm of his hand still burns from the interaction. 

Around the afternoon time, Sunghoon and the guys are sitting around a picnic table near the house. The sun is beating down on them all now while they chug down water and eat their lunch. The owner was kind enough to provide their refreshments and meals. They were all thankful. 

She adds that there’s a small lodge up the dirt road. It’s a little old but homey and has space with two spare bedrooms if they need to wash up or rest at any time. It was originally built for the farm workers that worked late and needed a place to stay if need be. 

Once done, the boys stand up and talk about what they have left to do. The next bus back to the city isn’t running for another two hours so they speak of taking some leisure time and exploring the farm property. Meanwhile Sunghoon is still sitting, watching them huddled in conversation. He wipes some sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as they begin walking towards the fields.

Sunghoon, taking what the farm owner had mentioned previously, decides that he’d like to stay inside to get away from the beating sun for a while. So he gathers his trash to throw away in the bin by the road near the house’s mailbox and begins his walk to the lodge. 

Once inside he takes in the rustic, outdated furniture. It’s a little dusty and the floorboards creak beneath his feet but he finds it somewhat comforting. The living space has two couches by an old stone fireplace, a center table with board games and cards, a kitchenette, and a large dining table with enough space to seat six people. 

The decor is very farmers-life-esque. From a cow print rug in the small kitchen area to the antlers mounted on the wall near the dining table. There’s scenic southern paintings hung up along with antique crosses and prints of bible verses, all adoring the faded and peeling floral wallpaper. Above the fireplace hangs a painting depicting Jesus healing a blind man. 

He walks down the only short hall in the lodge to find the two spare bedrooms the woman had mentioned along with a bathroom. He takes this time to wash his hands thoroughly and splash some cold water on his face. With his hands resting on the sink, he stares at himself in the mirror. The cold drops of water slip down his face, jaw, and back into the sink. 

In his mind he’s questioning whether or not he’s sure of this job. It’s all too different from what he knows and he can’t help but feel out of place here. With a sigh, he drops his head and watches the water slip down the sink. 

He jumps slightly at the sudden sound of the front door opening and closing, not expecting the others to join him here quite yet. No noise follows the action for a moment, not even footsteps. Then there’s the sound of a click, like the door is being locked. He straightens his posture and peaks out the bathroom door, listening for their voices or any sound other than silence. It offers nothing to him so he begins to feel tense. 

“Hello?” Sunghoon calls out skittishly, but there’s no response. His heart rate picks up a little and he starts to think the boys are trying to pull some sort of childish prank on him. He leaves the room and makes slow steps down the hallway to the main area of the lodging house. 

As he rounds the corner he doesn’t find any of the boys there though, he just sees you. His heart jumps at the realization. Sitting on the couch, in overall shorts and nothing else. Bare legs crossed and hands against the couch by your sides as you watch him peer around the corner with apprehension. You’re  just sitting there, leaning forward and waiting for him to come find you. 

Cowardly, Sunghoon makes a half turn. He presses his back against the wall of the hallway as if he could hide away or disappear into it. He even closes his eyes, thinking of a quick prayer to save him from this circumstance. 

“Are you pretending to be shy or are you really this cute?” Your voice is teasing, and he can hear the wicked smile in it without seeing. 

Feeling caught, he just sighs and slowly makes his way to the living area. He tries not to look at you, thinking you are too revealing. So he looks everywhere else and then to large windows that give view to the farm; none of the guys are in sight. Most likely somewhere goofing off. All he can see is the fields and farm buildings standing large in the distance. 

He doesn’t move and speaks softly, “I should probably go find the others-”

You speak before he can finish his attempt of an excuse, “Come sit with me.” You pat the space on the couch next to yourself. Your voice sounds welcoming but he knows there’s an undertone of mischief. 

He makes a quick glance to you and sucks in a breath at the view of your body that’s exposed from your overalls. The glimpse of the curve of your breast disappearing under the denim already makes him feel like he’s seen too much of you. And he has. He’s never seen such bare skin on a girl and he’s never been alone in a room with one either. 

“Come sit with me, now.” You’re more stern this time, demanding in a gentle way. Your hand makes small movements, soothing over the material of the couch like you’re warming the space for him. 

He visibly swallows as he makes his hesitant steps over to you. His heart is racing and with every beat there is a question of his strength. He sits down on the same sofa but not directly next to you like you want. You smirk nonetheless and turn to face him, sitting with your legs criss-cross now. 

With your elbows to your knees you hold your head in your hands, watching the side of his face. You’re again realizing how sculpted his features are. Dark thick hair on his head, eyebrows and lashes too. An array of moles sprinkle his pale face. A sharp nose that sits above pink, full lips. You wonder if he knows of his own beauty. It’s fascinating to see such a person like him in front of you. 

He’s sitting with perfect posture, not relaxing into the couch. Alert like a deer that’s waiting for too sudden of movement to pounce away. His eyes just watch the table, reading through the names of the board games that lay there as a way of distracting himself. He’s awkward. 

“Uhm… d-does your family own this farm?” he tries for small talk to break the silence. His bottom lip finds itself between his teeth as he makes one quick look over to you. Luckily your overalls sit high up or he’d have a full view of your chest. He can’t help but think of the fact and it makes him shift uncomfortably. 

“Do I make you nervous?” you question, seriously so. Brows pulled tight in a furrow with a straight face. You lean in even closer to him, watching for every change on his face. 

“Yes,” his response is honestly quick and ends with a tight lip, like he’s holding his breath. He is yet to comprehend what is happening, still in a whirlwind of thoughts of what could—will—happen. 

“Why?” Your head tilts slightly to the side, it makes him think of his roommate briefly. And man does he wish he were here to ease the tension. 

He doesn’t want to admit that he’s never been in such close proximity with a girl alone before, so he just clears his throat and remains quiet after doing so. 

Curiously, you bring a hand up with a pointed finger and brush the tip of it over the mole on the side of his nose. He jolts back at the sudden touch, his cheeks flushing a warm pink. His eyes now watch you with gentle confusion. He touches the same spot you did with a trembling hand. 

“You have a constellation on your face. So many moles… Do you have a girlfriend?” 

His face burns a little more, both from the observation and the question. He shakes his head, sitting himself further into the couch and further away from you. He can’t quite understand the situation. Are you messing with him? You seem too serious for such. Maybe you’re just weird like he initially thought. Either way he can feel his faith slipping; he is cupping holy water in hands during an earthquake. 

“Did I do somethin’ wrong? Am I not pretty?” You pout to be playful with him, acting as if his actions are offending you. He takes it literally though. 

“No!” his hands rest on his knees and he holds them hard, trying to find stability despite sitting down. “Y-you are… pretty,” his words grow quieter, like he’s sharing a secret. “I just don’t know you or why you want to talk to me.” 

“Hm.” You lean your head back against the couch. With your eyes still on his face, you speak just as quietly, “I’m still trying to figure that out too.” After some beats of muted air you speak up again, but with more presence, “You came to work here. Why?” 

“A man was handing out flyer ads at the church. I wanted a summer job.” 

Is he always this direct and boring? And church, of fucking course. You roll your eyes, pushing yourself off the back cushion and even closer to the man. Your knees touch the side of his body and his thigh. He looks like he’s trying to control his breathing, to feign lack of disturbance, but his face says everything you need to know. 

You place a hand on his thigh and his whole body stiffens at the action. Your smirk to yourself. It’s only resting there on the top of his jeans. “You act like a girl has never touched you before.” You give him a soft squeeze and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Well? Has a girl ever touched you?” 

He shakes his head quickly, “No,” he breaks, feeling overwhelmed and wrong, “and I don’t think you should be. It’s against the churches values-”

“At your age you still follow the rules?” Your hand slides lower and back up his thigh, it’s a slow and teasing motion. There’s enjoyment in how scared he’s becoming. 

Sunghoon knows that this is only going to lead him down a path he swore to God not to take. And if his parents were to know that in his first year away from home in the summer since college was locked in a lodge with a promiscuous girl he’d have it handed to him. The thought of their wrath makes him shiver all the more. 

“I just don’t want to sin.” His eyes close and he bites down onto his lip again. He no longer cares if a stranger sees him as a loser or prude. His virtue is being tested in real time, and he’s feared facing this battle many times in the night because even in his dreams he loses. 

“I’m only touching you. How is it a sin?” The tone of your voice changes, it’s soft like the hand that moves closer to in between his thighs. Your fingertips press into his clothed skin here and there, curiously feeling him up. You just try to get a reaction out of him. There’s a warm feeling in your stomach that you don’t recognize; it’s faintly familiar. 

“Your hand isn’t supposed to be… there.” He makes a strained sound, something like a low whine, as your hand ghosts over his cock. 

You look down to your movements for the first time and realize he’s sporting a half chub. You snicker quietly, cupping him in your palm. “Then why are you getting hard, Sunghoon? Do you like the way I’m touching you? I bet you’ve thought about doing this before too.” 

He makes another noise, a whimper. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes and accept what’s happening. He also can’t find it in himself to stop you, or get up and leave. This wasn’t just a struggle with evil’s temptation but his own biological nature. Something yet to be explored, something that’s been scratching at his ribcage for years to be fed. 

There’s too much he can’t admit in this moment. Starting with how he enjoys the sound of your voice, the slight accent and dialect difference he picks up. How the way his name leaves your lips makes him want to crumble like a burning church. And how he silently likes the fact he can’t control the way his body is reacting to your hands on him. 

It’s all wrong, wrong, wrong. And he is weak.

“Answer me, Sunghoon.” Your hand presses down on him, feeling the growing hardness under your palm. You give him a small squeeze, massaging over the bulge. To your surprise he feels big. Your eyebrows quirk at this and then you look back to his face. A single tear runs down his face and you find satisfaction in it. “Lying is a sin too,” you remind him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his hands fist the couch cushions at his sides. He grips the material so tight that his knuckles turn pink through the pale of his skin. His chest rises and falls through slow and deep breaths. 

“You shouldn’t feel sorry for something that makes you feel good.” You palm over him a few more times, drawing out little moans and whimpers from him. He’s struggling to sit still. You can even feel him try not to push his hips back up into you; if only he would admit that he wants it. He’s practically pulsing beneath you, like there’s never been such a rush of blood to his cock in his life. You sigh dramatically and pull your hand away from him, sitting back to give him space. “That’s too bad. A good dog will always be loyal, huh?”

His eyes shoot open when he feels your hand is gone. He looks at you desperately with wet eyes, a small pout to his lips. You make him feel sick for wanting to ask why you stopped, or if he did something bad for you to take away his short-lived pleasure. 

You smirk at his expression, so pitifully beautiful with want. “Have you ever touched yourself?” you ask, placing your hand over his that hasn’t let go of the couch. It takes you back when he flips his hand around to hold onto yours, clingy and wretched. His thumb brushes over your knuckles. Repulsed, you react quickly and take your hand away from him at his impulsive intimacy. It makes him frown with a meek whimper. 

He shakes his head slowly, looking down to his lap. “I can’t.” He knows he’s not allowed to. His father was adamant through his puberty that he mustn’t succumb to his body’s natural taste for sin. He was told that sometimes the devil had a funny way of sneaking into a man’s mind. That Satan would haunt boys in their sleep to wake them up with guilt of uncontrollable lust to be like him. 

“But you like when I do it, right?” You rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him. His eyes look from your face to the thin opening of your overalls where your chest can be seen from the angle. He bites down hard and nods slowly. You coo, moving your hand back to his still hard, clothed cock. “I can make it go away if you want. You want that?” 

He’s battling all the repressed things he’s been too afraid to explore; fearful of the swing of his parents belt he felt once long ago after being caught in a misunderstanding. In spite of it, he nods again. “It hurts.. Please, help me.” His voice is so quiet. Even he doesn’t want to hear his own pathetic begging. 

Your fingers find the zipper of his jeans then you tug it down slowly as you stare at him. “You have to pull them down for me, okay? I can’t help you with just this.”

Sunghoon freezes for a second knowing he has control over being the one to take out his own cock. Yet apprehension leaves in a breath. Then he’s pulling the clothing down to his knees with frantic haste. You didn’t expect him to take everything off so fast but there’s a sense of pride in how eager you’ve made him become in such a short time. 

You weren’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. His cock is as beautiful as him. Pale and raging pink, crying at the tip much like his eyes. He’s also big, bigger than you knew dicks could be. You thought they’d be ugly, gross and worm-like. But his is clean and pretty. It’s your first time seeing one in person; you wouldn’t let him know that. 

You take him bare in your hands, feeling him like a foreign object. More curious of his body than in his pleasure in the moment. His body tenses then relaxes against the couch. A shaky, breathy moan leaves his lips. His eyes flutter at the contact of skin. 

You squeeze him, making his moan weakly again. It’s heavy in your hand. Truly just a stick of warm flesh. A part of you wants to squeeze him as hard as you can just to see if it can break, but you withhold on hurting him for now. Not wanting to scare him too much in hopes of exploring him further through the summer. 

Your hand wraps around the length as much as it can, pads of fingertips brushing over every vein and curve as you slowly move your hand up and down. When your thumb circles around his tip and flicks the leaking hole, his body lurches forward with a loud cry of a moan from him. You wonder if he’ll cum in the next few seconds of simply touching him. 

“I think you’re a slut for a little pleasure, Sunghoon.” You use your palm to gather his precum, circling over the tip to smear the thick cream around. Then you drag it back down himself, wetting his cock in his own prerelease. It slides easier now, your hand. You move faster, jerking him off in lazy, inexperienced motions. Not that he would know anyways. “You gave into lust so easily, didn’t you? Must’ve wanted this for so long. Your body’s nasty, eager for it.”

In his ears, you make the nasty words sound delicious. And he wants to devour more and more, like the starved man he is. His hips snap up into your hard, sudden and rough. You wrap your free arm over his shoulders, a hand sneaking up into his hair to tug aggressively on the thick dark locks. You’re pulling his head back, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t be a whore. I’m helping you. I didn’t say fuck my hand.” 

“Ahsh- I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he whines, tears burning his eyes, “it, it f-feels good. I feel so good.” His head falls to lean against yours, face burying into your hair. His head makes little shakes as he begins to cry, telling himself no, no. 

“Shut up...” You don’t like how close he is to you. You only like doing so to tease him, but when he does it, it makes you feel a fiery anger in your chest and belly. Uncomfortable. Smothering.

Your hand works in sloppy motions. Pumping his pulsing cock to reach his orgasm. At the tip your wrist makes flicks with your thumb, working him up further and further. 

He stutters out incoherent apologies into your hair throughout his sobs of wanton, whimpering moans. Everything about his body is sensitive to the new sensations. He can’t help but move his hips up into your hand, humping the small fist that’s fucking down onto him. 

Confused by the warm, tight feeling flexing of his abdomen he whines against you, “I can’t- I can’t take it. My body feels weird now. Mmph, ‘m sorry. I don’t know what’s h-happening.” His body feels volcanic, ready to burst. 

You continue your movements, jerking his reflexing length until he’s cumming into your hand. It’s a heavy load of thick, creamy mess. His voice is too close to your ear as he moans a drawn out needy sound. Your face remains plain while you pump him until he’s milked dry. His body flinches and curls into yours through the aftershocks, clearly overstimulated and over-sensitive. His arms snake around your waist to pull you against him.  

You stare down at your hand that was earlier covered in the blood of a lamb and now the cum of a virgin. It looks like fucking snot, you realize with repulse. Without thinking you bring your hand up and lick the strange release. Your face scowls at the unknown taste so you just wipe the rest on your overalls. “You are disgusting,” you mutter. 

Sunghoon remains silent aside from his sniffles, eyes peeking through his bangs to watch what you’re doing. He still hasn’t stopped clinging to your side, as if you could save him from his first lustful sin. 

You push yourself up and off the couch, his body slightly falls to the side where he was leaning on you but he catches himself. He watches you with sad, scared eyes. You stare blankly in return then look out the window to see the group of men walking around the picnic table they ate at earlier. 

“Farmhands will be leaving soon. Clean yourself up in the bathroom.” You don’t spare him another look, you just walk to the front door, unlock it, and leave. You ignore the way he looked like a sad abandoned puppy. Something about it angered you in the same way he was being clingy. 

You walk back to your house with a slight skip to your steps. As you step through your front door, you’re about to head upstairs to your room but stop in your tracks because your mother speaks.

“Hate him all ya want,” your mothers words slur, she speaks slowly and tired-like, “but he was a good man. He used to love me… And then you came along.” You turn to the living room on your left where your mother lays on the couch, wine glass in hand and eyes heavy lidded. “I know what yer capable of. I’ve seen the things ya do on this farm, in this home.. When ya think no one is watching.. He just might be right about you.” You glare at her now. “There is something evil in ya, child. Leave that boy outta yer wickedness.” 

Her wine glass falls to the floor from her fingers and she groans, turning to her side. You stare at her for a moment before walking up to your room. 

Meanwhile Sunghoon spends his next 20 minutes in a spiral of guilt and shame. He cleans himself up in the restroom like you told him to. Then waits, watching outside the window for when the boys are gathered around the truck they drove in from the bus stop to leave in. It was hard for him to get the tears to end. He fell right into sin’s lustful trap and it made him feel so- No, it only made him feel hurt. Stupid. Bad. 

On his bus ride back into the city he prays. Sitting in back, alone with his indignity, and head bowed low so no one could see his red rimmed, glossy eyes. Time goes by so fast that he nearly misses his stop to get off. 

He ignores his roommate when he’s home. Jake, excited and curious of Sunghoon’s first day, is left cold. Sunghoon showers for longer than usual. He scrubs so harshly at his skin he turns red; unable to feel clean no matter how much he washes. He doesn’t eat dinner because he feels he doesn’t deserve to. He gets into bed earlier than most days too. He tries to sleep but the day haunts him, keeping him awake. 

He’s up all night in tears, face in his pillow with the blanket thrown over his head, trying to hide from He who watches. The begs of forgiveness seem endless. 

“Dear God,” he whimpers, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” He doesn’t sleep much that night because he can’t find it in himself to stop humping into his mattress in hopes to chase and achieve the feeling you gave him earlier. His hips rock his aching hard cock into the bed, anguished yet titillated. “Please, forgive me. Forgive me. I’m so sorry.” He continues to cry, drowning in his pillow, knowing he will do it again. 

　The next day on the farm is an early morning for everyone. Sunghoon sits quietly in the truck with the other summer volunteer farmharms. They talk amongst each other about the day’s schedule of duties and tasks. He struggles to keep his eyes open, head leaning against the window despite its bumps from the uneven dirt road. He thought about calling it quits on the whole job after yesterday, but couldn’t bring himself to. It’s for selfish reasons too. The ones that deepen his guilt. 

The arrival to the farm is quicker than anticipated. Sunghoon forces himself to be more alert and awake, starting to pick up on the conversations between the others as he exits the parked truck. 

“Do you think it’s still hanging there?” One says. “The lamb of slaughter?” Another dumbly asks with a snort. “Well yeah, dipshit. You guys think that girl did it? She was weird as hell.” A third voice chimes in, “Being covered in blood and then leaving a dead animal hanging from a tree is creepy as fuck. The lady was right, stay the hell away from her.” He laughs. The others walk away in continuous chatter, leaving Sunghoon by the truck. 

Sunghoon is confused by this conversation and deeply disturbed. He doesn’t follow or press them with questions though. But it will give him much to think about for the day. He’s so exhausted from the lack of sleep, he wonders if he even heard them all correctly at all. Yeah, your whole introduction was strange but killing an animal and acting like nothing happened and then toying with him on the same day? Was all that really something a girl like you would do? He can’t say for sure because he doesn’t know you. 

He goes about his morning tasks lazily. His mind is too busy with the thoughts of you. He thinks of when or if he’ll see you today. You haven’t shown around the farm all day. It’s only an hour before noon, he tries to rationalize with himself. He still ponders throughout his work. What time will you come? Will you mysteriously show up like yesterday? Will you touch him again? Will you let him feel good? Is he forgivable or going to burn in hell for wanting more?

He shakes his head to rid it of the thoughts. Perhaps he’s too hopeful. After lunch time he goes back to the farmers lodge to take a nap. At least that’s the realistic excuse he used. He struggles to even fall asleep because he’s so anxious about listening for any sound of you possibly coming back here. 

His eyes, sullen and tired, just can’t stay open after half an hour of waiting. So eventually he does fall asleep. You never show up. When he wakes up from his long needed nap he somehow feels worse knowing you didn’t visit than he did committing his first sin. 

The following day of work is a repeat. He doesn’t see you at all yet you occupy all of his thoughts. He thinks badly of himself for many reasons. 

　On the fourth day, you finally decide it’s time to check up on the poor boy. You watched Sunghoon mope around the farm for two days and it was cute at first but you’re getting bored again. You did like how his eyes were always searching around, hopeful that every sound he heard from behind or around corners was you. Knowing you had such an effect on him made you wonder how much more you could do to him. 

From the window of your room, you watch when they all arrive. Your mother greets them like she does in the mornings and gives them all tasks that need to be completed for the day. It’s Thursday which means she’ll be out for a few hours to go into town and sort out business for products: cow and goat milk processing for cheeses and soaps. At least you assume considering you overheard her phone call about such the day prior. 

You spend the morning around the house, reading and snacking on fruits, waiting for your mother to leave so you can proceed with your plan. There was some effort into your appearance today. You wear a spaghetti strapped white babydoll dress, lined at the bottom with sewn embroideries. It’s simple and flows nicely above your knees when you walk. You hate it because it alludes to soft purity but at least it feels good to dress light in the summer heat. And it might make you all the more approachable to feeble Sunghoon. 

After about an hour, your mother finally leaves. You give it about 10 minutes before you’re shoving on your boots and leaving the house. Some of the blood from earlier in the week still stains the brown leather; you did clean them off but clearly not to the best extent. You’re okay with that though, it seems prettier this way to you. 

Looking and walking around the property, you see the scattered farmhands busy with different things. The sun isn’t kind today, it’s piercing in brightness and temperature. The sweat begins to seep from your pores in a matter of minutes, making you feel sticky. You run a hand through your tangled hair, fingers getting caught in unbrushed knots that you yank through anyways. You don’t see Sunghoon anywhere that’s directly under the sun. You continue to search around the farm, gaining a few cautious looks from the other workers. As you walk past their gazes you wear a wry smile with a tilt to your head. They look away quickly after being caught staring. 

Some wandering in and out of the different barns and coops are done. He wasn’t in any of them though.  You greet the animals you pass by and give pats to some of the cows. “Have you guys seen him nearby? I’m not a fan of hide and seek.” You mumble to one of the goats, scratching lightly beneath its chin while it chews away at grains and hay. It maas in return. You pull your hand back out from the stable then leave to continue the manhunt. 

It’s when you’re walking by the horses’ stables that you see they’ve already been cared for, telling you that someone was here already. You glance to the smaller shed nearby, having a suspicious inkling that it's where Sunghoon is. You walk to the shed and see yourself inside. And he is. He has his back turned to you, standing at a work bench table and cleaning something off. 

You walk up behind him, the sound of your footsteps being dulled by the scattered hay on the wooden floors; he doesn’t notice that you entered the space, clearly lost in his own thoughts. You tap his shoulder which makes him spin around in surprise, dropping the brushes he was cleaning. 

Sunghoon’s eyes are wide at the sight of you standing so close to him. You can tell he’s lost sleep by the dark circles around his eyes and how his complexion is impossibly paler. His mouth is stuttering to find words, opening and closing. 

You step closer to him and he steps back, his backside now pressing against the table. It wobbles on the uneven wooden stilts that hold it up. Reflexively, his hands reach back to hold onto the table, but he’s using it for his own stability. You simply stand there in between his legs, staring up at his face and taking in all the details that differ from the last time you saw him. He swallows, quietly watching your face in return. 

“I haven’t seen you around.” Sunghoon speaks first, his voice a soft surrender. You feel his breath on your face. 

“I know. I saw you though. You missed me.” You state bluntly, taking note of the little fangs he has for teeth. He probably bites good, you think, licking the back of your own teeth. 

“If you saw me then why didn’t you…” he trails off into a quiet again, closing his eyes for a moment with a sigh. “I wouldn’t call it that.” His eyes open again as he feels your hands on his chest, sliding up his white tank and underneath the sleeves of his denim jacket to his shoulders. He bites down, suddenly stiff. 

Ignoring his response you continue, “How can you wear this when it’s so warm out?” Your hands slide over his shoulders and down his toned arms, the jacket slips down to reveal the toned limbs. Your eyebrows raise at the sight yet your face remains relatively blank. “You’ve got muscle. Good for farm work.” Small hands continue to run over the smooth milk-like skin, learning every curve of his lean built physique. It’s not sexual, just exploratory. 

Sunghoon sucks in a breath, watching you inspect him. He begins to feel flustered, relishing in the contact of skin on his. You notice his tense body and ask him if it’s okay, to which replies a raspy stutter, “Y-yeah.” Your hands slide down his arms and back up to his shoulders. Then down his chest and body to stop at the waistline of his jeans. He has a nice body; he must be athletic. You don’t care to ask in what ways. Your fingers dip into his jeans just slightly to pull him in closer to you, he gasps, his growing cock pressing against your stomach. 

“Sunghoon,” You ridicule him, tsking under your breath at the pressure you feel of his arousal. “Already?” You look up at him but he can’t meet your eyes, feeling embarrassed. You play with the waistline, your fingertips running back and forth between the denim and his skin. “Is this sinning?” It’s a soft question yet mocking. He only shakes his head, nervously gnawing at his bottom lip. “Do you want to?” He whimpers, slowly nodding his head. You take your hands off him, crossing your arms. “You have to tell me. Look at me and tell me.” 

He looks back at you dispirited. He knows that you know what he wants. And here you are making him admit it outloud, both to you and God. “Please.” He begs quietly, hoping it only reaches your ears and not the sky’s. “I want you.” 

There’s that feeling again. The lit match that falls from your throat to the gasoline of your stomach that erupts in flames. Fire to your abdomen and loins; it’s an angry feeling, sparked by his honest admit of want, and for you specifically. You watch him with narrowed eyes while mumbling, “you revolt me.” 

He doesn’t reply to your venomous insult. It stings to hear the degrading words in both his heart and pants; he thinks himself disgraceful too. 

You drop to your knees, hands finding place back on his jeans to undo his zipper. He stares down at you in bated breath, hands still gripping tight on the table behind him. His are pulled down slowly, purposely so. You watch him writher, body and face. “Did you do it again?” you question, looking up at him from below. He would never avow to how the sight of you on your knees alone makes him ache all the more. 

He wants to tear his eyes away from you but he can’t. The image of you in your white dress on the ground before him needs to be burned into his memory. He stutters a mumble of words but you don’t catch anything, if he even said a coherent response at all. You ask again, pinching his thigh. He tries to hum over the strained noise in the back of his throat, “Yes.. I mean no! B-but I didn’t touch myself.”

You try not to giggle, biting the inside of your cheek. Knowing he wanted to feel that way again but couldn’t on his own gave you a funny sense of power over him. One of your hands traces the outline of his hard cock through his boxer briefs. “You make a mess?” He shivers at the feeling of your breath on his suffocating length. He breathes out a ‘no’ while you lick a strip over the material. “Why not? I showed you how.”

He moans softly, trying not to let his hips chase after the feeling that he’s been after for days. “You know I can’t,” he exhales. You roll your eyes, mouthing and licking at him languidly. Your hands are still half tugging at the material that keeps him hidden. A faint pool of precum quickly stains his boxers. 

“Sunghoon,” you look up at him with your chin resting on the bulge. He swallows hard, acknowledging you with a hum. “You will never be free from it. The sin I let you taste will forever linger on the tip of your tongue, begging and licking to taste more in crave. No holy blessed water can possibly cleanse you even if you drown in it.” 

His bottom lip pouts out with a little droning whine. He should defend himself, say that his faith is stronger than he is and that his soul is saveable by mercy. But a part of him also feels that doesn’t want to be. His eyes begin to well with tears. 

“Not even a god could make you pure again,” you give him a small smile and pat his naked thigh before pulling down his underwear. His cock now free slaps his stomach to which he breathes out heavily. You grab him with both hands, giving him one last look before taking the leaking head into your mouth. Hands working on him steadily. 

“T-that’s dirty!” he leans forward with a low sounding moan, his hands on your head and in your hair. Your eyes go wide at this. “Why would you put that in your mouth?!” he gasps, the warm wetness around his tip making him dizzy. “This is so vulgar, oh God, forgive me.�� he cries, not pulling your mouth off of him but holding you there. 

You circle your tongue around the tip and over his leaking slit, licking the beads of precum that leak out. It makes your grimace before you lean back, a wet pop as your mouth leaves. “Enough of your penitence, and take your hands off me.” It sounds like a warning to which he complies without question, only a hushed apology. He’s the one who wants to be touched anyways, not you. 

You take him into your mouth again, your lips wrap around him in a painful stretch to accommodate his size. He sits heavy on your tongue that lays flat underneath, doing what you can with it. Your hands at the base work around him, jerking and squeezing him like you did before. You weren’t really sure what you were doing, mainly just mocking the actions you read about in books. It seems to be working for Sunghoon regardless because he can barely hold himself together. Whining and whimpering through fat tears, whole body shuddering from the overwhelming wet heat of your mouth. 

His jaw goes slack, mouth hung open only to elicit a breathless moan. His head rolls back on his neck and his eyes flutter to a close. The feeling of your mouth wrapping around him is hot heaven. His body trembles with the new, sweeping sensation. Stomach already tight with contracting muscles. He thinks he could pass out. 

Watching his face, him, discover and feel pleasurable sin is slightly euphoric to you. You’ve seen it in movies and read of it in books, but it was something you never quite fully explored yourself. There’s been a few instances that you did touch yourself; it always felt empty or like something was always missing. There’s little to no excitement when doing it alone in shameful hiding. Witnessing, causing such debauchery is different somehow. Safer in ways you didn’t dwell in thought on. You do wish he would stop crying about it, you find it pathetic of him in a provoked way. 

Involuntarily, he thrusts himself down your throat with a guttural groan. You gag and cough around him, tears sting your eyes that make you squeeze them shut—refusing to let a single one dare to escape. Now it felt like a challenge. One to which you wouldn’t back down in fear of looking weak. 

Your hands hold his thighs roughly, bruisingly so if you had the strength. You move his body in a small back and forth motion, encouraging him to continue his movements. You’re looking up at him with glazed over eyes and a slight nod. He chokes a sob at the sight, you on your knees not to pray but to devour him.

“Ah, I- I’m sorry. Your mouth is so wet, so warm.” He starts off with shallow thrusts, dragging his cock along your wet muscle. His hips stutter while his world seems to be crashing down. “This is so dirty. You look so dirty. And—ngh—it’s.. it’s so good. It’s so good,” he babbles, pushing himself as far down into your mouth as he can. His tip kisses the back of your throat making you gag around him. Your nails digging into the flesh of his strong legs. He can’t stop moaning and whimpering, becoming a slave to pleasure. 

He watches your face. Hollowed cheeks sucking and swallowing around him, the tightness of your throat around him hugging and contracting through chokes that reverberate your body to his cock. The spit that leaks from your lips and all over him is obscene, such a sinful mess. He so badly wants to grab your head and force himself down further, but his nails dig into the wood of the table instead. 

“Hm, I can’t—” he moans your name, thrusting rougher now. His whole body crumbling in on itself, chasing the feeling of release. 

Then there’s the sound of footsteps and a few voices that follow. Sunghoon sucks in a deep breath, taking a fist to his mouth to bite down onto. He looks at you in fear because of the proximity of the other farmhands right outside. This only makes you smirk around him, a glint of evil in your eyes. He shakes his head hurriedly, stopping his movements—as if that would make you both disappear. 

You push yourself off his cock, licking over your cracked and saliva covered lips. You bring a finger to your lips and shush him. “Be quiet or they’ll find out what a nasty whore you are. Unless you want that.” Your voice is quiet and raspy from the abuse of him fucking himself down your throat. You stare into his eyes intently before taking him back in. He glances from you to the door of the shed, his body shaking. 

You slurp and suck him up, purposely loud and sloppy. A hand jerking off the base that doesn’t quite fit in your mouth. He cries quietly with his mouth open, meek and desperate sounds escape that he can’t withhold. “Please…” He’s whimpering, begging for something that he doesn’t know the context of. 

“Do you think the extra feed is in this one?” A voice questions, the door being opened just a crack. 

Sunghoon quickly tries to bend down for his jeans but you slap his hand away, pushing him back into the table. You grip his thighs and force yourself to take all of him down. You gag around him, eyes never leaving his panicky and fucked out face. His face silently begs for you that enough is enough but you don’t stop, because a part of you knows he doesn’t want you to either. 

“It doesn’t hurt to check, does it?” The other replies with a light chuckle. “Could take a break for some shade too while we’re at it.” The door opens slowly with an agonizing creak, sunlight barely pouring. 

Each passing second feels like an eternity to him. The door is still only cracked, not enough for them to see inside but it’s cutting it close. His cock twitches at the thought of being caught with his dick down the throat of the farmer’s daughter. A blazing adrenaline rushes through him. 

Sunghoon can’t bear it any longer. His hands find purchase on the back of your head, pushing himself completely into your mouth. His hips stutter with a whimper on his lips as the hot cum pours down your throat. “Ah, sh- ngh!” You smack at his legs for him to release the hold, choking for air to breathe. You instinctively swallow around him, consuming his load of sin.  

“You dumbass! The horses are already fed, let’s just go for a water break.” The door slams back on itself to a close. Their footsteps can be heard walking away. 

Sunghoon breathes heavily, letting go of you. His body instantly relaxing back with his elbows on the table to support him. Meanwhile you fall onto your ass, a hand around your throat while you gasp for air through rough coughs. “What the fuck did I say about putting your hands on me?” You rasp before coughing again. The taste of him sits on the back of your tongue no matter how much you swallow. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “we shouldn’t get caught.” He pulls his pants and boxers back up then extends a hand to you, an offering to help you stand back up. 

You scoff, ignoring his hand and stand up on your own. You brush the dirt and stray strands of hay from your knees. “Whatever. We both got what we wanted.” You start to turn for the door to leave the shed with the thought of brushing your teeth in mind. 

Sunghoon, confused as to what you could’ve gotten out of helping him, just reaches for your hand. He grabs you and pulls you back to look at him. His eyes are sad, maybe even a little afraid by your haste to leave. “Y-you’re just going to leave me again?” He sounds broken by the fact. 

“What?” You can’t help but breathe a laugh, “Did you expect me to do more?” You ask with raised brows. 

“No! No, not like that.. But..” He swallows his pride, “I- I don’t know. Just don’t leave yet. Please.” 

You blink at him, scanning his features like a robot in calculation. The pleading of his expression and his words aggravate you. A fiery burning to your insides and the skin that he touches, that he reached for. You look down to his tight grip on your hand before yanking it away. You don’t say anything more, and neither does he. He wipes his eyes from whatever salty wetness is still there. 

A moment of silence solidifies your decision. You beckon him to follow you out and he does. 

For the rest of his work day you remain. You try not to think about why. But subconsciously you know it’s because for the first time someone willingly wants to be by your side. At first you imagine it’s because of what you’ve done for him—gave him what any man desires: pleasure. A man falling into temptation is far too easy. 

Though he doesn’t ask for more and he doesn’t bring it up. Almost like it never happened. 

It seems like he really just wants to be around you. There’s little said between each other. It’s just idle farm work with company. And it’s more peaceful than you expected it to be. He didn’t touch you, question you, or do much at all to bother you in general. 

Sometimes he stares at you, but you do the same to him. He even gives a sheepish smile when he catches you; it doesn’t get returned. That doesn’t bother him though. He thinks you look beautiful on the farm in your dress with dirt covered hands and hair messy from the wind. He hopes to tell you that one day but for now he stays shy, still weary and afraid. 

The sun shines relentlessly unless a cloud mercifully passes by. The breeze is rare yet kind. The animals make their sounds to sing a collective song. The trees and crops sway like waving hands of hellos and goodbyes, depending on where you’re headed to or from. It’s not so bad. 

　Two weeks go by. Time flies by for both you and Sunghoon. He comes to work during the week, and he spends his weekends missing you. He doesn’t know what you two are to each other, and he’s too scared to ask. There’s definitely been changes to the dynamic, however. Subtly so. You still don’t smile, or let him touch you. You roll your eyes and insult him if he’s too emotional. But you’re there. 

Certainly not everyday, but most, you spend his work days with him. It’s easier to be around one another. There can be small talk, usually about the farm or the weather. Still much to be learned about on a personal level, but he’s fine with the pace of the relationship (outside of the unholy acts that are committed). Sometimes you even end up helping him. Or at least he thinks of it that way. In reality you don’t like how he does things and take over to do it yourself. 

You still tease him in your cruel ways. Always ending with him in a mess because he’s easily worked up by your handsy curiosity. He caves into you every time because he can’t fight the divinity that you show him. 

There are other times where you confuse him. You suggest a water break knowing he’d gone hours without hydration under the summer heat. You insist on having him take a break under a roof away from the sun when his skin gets too sweaty or red. Which is followed by a reminder that sunscreen is important if he wishes to keep his milky complexion. It’s critical statements that you provide him, but he can’t help to think it’s a weird way of showing you care. 

Sure, it could be seen as you selfishly saying these things because it’s what you want for yourself, but in the back of his mind he’s very aware of how you watch and cater to him. It makes his heart jump every time and butterflies swarm his stomach. He can’t help it. The little things, the small acts of kindness—that you might not even intend—make him delusionally overthink. 

On the third weekend since starting his summer job, Jake can’t help all the questions he’s been building up and dying to ask. Jake doesn’t understand what Sunghoon has been going through, especially when his moods change so drastically. At first, Sunghoon was self isolating and pouty, clearly in his own head and sulking. But then he would come home from work beaming with an afterglow to his aura. And then on the weekends he was back to his reclusive, depressed state. 

Sick of being left out of Sunghoon’s inner turmoil, Jake finally pesters his friend. 

“When are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Jake stands in the doorway of Sunghoon’s room, staring at his friend who’s laying face down in his bed. 

“I don’t know…” Sunghoon’s words are muffled in his pillow. 

Jake walks in with a sigh and sits at the end of the bed. He playfully slaps Sunghoon’s leg. “Dude, just tell me. You’re obviously going through something. You know I can keep a secret. I won’t judge.” 

Sunghoon rolls over on his back, his hands clasped together over his stomach as he stares up to the ceiling. He confides in Jake, telling his story from the beginning of when he first met you. He stutters over his words when he admits to the sinful acts he partook in with you. He tells Jake of his guilty conscience and how he enjoyed indulging in the feelings. Then he tells Jake about how he simply likes your company even without the sexual circumstances involved. How he’s mystified by your complex personality and only wishes to know you more. However, he does leave out the viciousness of your nature, since a part of him doesn’t quite believe in it. 

“It seems like you’re starting to develop a crush.” Jake laughs lightly, “And if it’s about religion, don’t overthink it too much. Nobody dies completely pure.” He reassures him. “You should show her more of you. That you like her too.” 

Sunghoon groans and covers his face at the terrifying suggestion. If only you were that easy to approach in such a vulnerable way. “I guess… I’ll consider it.” 

The next day is Sunday. Jake and Sunghoon attend church as normal. Sunghoon participates less in his prayers and songs than usual. His mind is too preoccupied with all he has going on in life. He feels guilt and frustration. 

Sunghoon, lost in his own world, fails to realize that his best friend—Jake—battles something similar internally. 

You’re never as alone as you think you are if you take a better look around. Everyone is riddled with their own self disgust, guilt, or shame. How else would the churches be so full? 

　Entering the fourth week of summer should feel easier than it does for Sunghoon. The work seems to be picking up regarding responsibilities. The weather is only becoming less forgivable. The peak is yet to hit, but that only means the seasonal storms are right around the corner. More care is needed in the fields and barns in terms of protection in case of unpredictable weather. 

Aside from the work, Sunghoon is anxious because of you. He hasn’t seen you yet today and he feels nervous about it. Perhaps he has grown too clingy, finding close comfort in knowing you’re there with him on the farm. There’s a sense of safety when you’re in the line of sight; you make things easier for him and he enjoys the presence. 

While he’s watering plants and checking the sprinklings through the fields, an older man approaches him. It’s a familiar face that he’s seen around a few times over the past month. The man waves with a smile and Sunghoon does the same. 

“It’s amazing what you’ve done, boy.” The man begins, Sunghoon questions where he’s going with the start because he’s just an extra hand of help and doesn’t feel he’s accomplished or improved the farm in drastic ways. “I’ve worked here, hm, well I’ll be damned! Nearly 15 years! And I’ve never once seen that farm girl talk to anyone. Much less spend time.” the man chuckles. 

“Oh!” Sunghoon blushes and hopes it’s only mistaken as feverish from the summer. He smiles small and stares down to the bundle of plants he brought with him to the farm today. He feels special knowing this much of you. “She’s something…” 

“Sometimes I’d see her talk to herself and the animals.” The man pulls out a cigarette and lighter to smoke. “She’d walk around aimlessly like a ghost. Used to scare the hell outta me.” As he laughs, smoke escapes his lungs. He wheezes a little before continuing, “But now she follows and watches you like she’s worshipin’. If only she did the same with her daddy. Although with a face like yours, I can’t blame the girl.” 

“Pardon? What do you mean by that?” Sunghoon, bemused, watches the man smoke and laugh between weak coughs. “She has a dad?” His last question is overroad by the man who speaks over him. 

“You keep up your work, kid. I outta get back to mines too.” And then he’s walking away with a low chuckle, shaking his head to himself. 

Sunghoon’s aware of your mother. He always thought it was just the two of you running things. He’s never once seen a man, your father, leave the house or so much so be around it. This gives him more to think about, especially on the fact that he still doesn't know much about you at all. You’re still an enigma to him, but he wants everything. 

By the afternoon when all the guys are finishing up their break, you finally come out of the house. With the sound of the front door opening, Sunghoon is quick to straighten his posture and find your eyes. You’re already looking at him, watching him and his surroundings with no expression. His cheeks burn and he can’t help the smile forming on his lips. 

Two and a half days without seeing you feels like so much longer. 

He stands up from the picnic table, grabbing his newspaper wrapped bundle of greenery and shyly hiding it behind his back. He walks over to you, tripping over his feet as he approaches the porch steps to the house. You stand there in front of the door but at the top of the few stairs, arms crossed and amused. 

He’s diffident, arms behind him and modestly attempting to hide how nervous he feels on the inside. His stomach is doing flips, his heart racing. On top of already sweating. He feels like he could throw up his lunch right in front of your feet. He swallows thickly before slowly bringing his hands out in front of himself. 

“I,” he clears his throat, “ehem, I got these for you.” With outstretched arms, the bundle of flowers shake in his trembling hands. He suddenly feels he’s too nervous to even meet your eyes, so he watches the chipped paint wood of the front porch steps. 

You just stand there, watching him with wide eyes and your heart in your throat. Your mouth is lost for words, glancing around at the few farmhands who haven’t left yet and are staring at Sunghoon’s exchange in a similar bewilderment. Some are trying to keep themselves from bursting out into laughter.

“Are you some kind of stupid?” You whisper harshly for only him to hear, snatching the flowers out of his hands. “Why the hell would you do this?” Your words like your tone are mean, but in your chest there’s a raging pounding. It’s a seething raw emotion that doesn’t know how to be dealt with. You’ve only just stepped out of the house and your body feels like it’s inside a furnace. 

Sunghoon’s head shoots back up to look at you, his face and heart drop. “I-I’ve never had a girlfriend before so I wasn’t sure what to do.. This is what boyfriends do, right?” He takes a hand to scratch at the back of his head. Inner turmoil takes over and he thinks he’s fucked up. He bites at his lip, doing his best not to instantly cry in regret. 

You notice this and sigh, irritated. You look from the neatly wrapped white roses and tulips and back to Sunghoon. “So you are stupid,” you mumble before taking your own bottom lip between your teeth. A part of you wants to sneer, but you spin on your heels to hide the warmth that floods your face in substitution. “I’m throwing them away,” you announce, opening the door and walking back inside your house. 

Sunghoon, broken, just drops his head and turns back. A few of the farmhands are snickering from not too far away, chattering among each other and eyeing Sunghoon. He wishes God would smite him on the spot from the humiliation. 

Wanting to avoid everything for a little while, he thinks of heading to the lodge to lay down in hiding. But before he can walk away, the front door of your house swings open once more. He glances back at you, meeting your eyes like he always seems to do. 

“Done for the day already?” You call over to him, now leaning over the banister of the porch with crossed arms. 

Sunghoon, unable to refute you, offers a weak smile and shakes his head. “No.” 

He walks back over to you and you meet him halfway. You don’t say anything else. You don’t bring up the fact that he had bought you flowers or confused the odd relationship you share for dating. It’s cute in all its blind innocence, but that just goes to show you that you have more work to do with him. 

You don’t think of messing with him today. He’s distinctly grown too clingy with how much time you’ve spent with him. Yet you can’t ignore him either. The two of you carry out the rest of the day’s farm work in silence. The inner fury you feel with him doesn’t seem to go away, despite how he hasn’t said much or even brushed skin with you. 

You don’t know how you’re remaining pacific by his side. The rampaging of your heart strings tug like a screaming instrument just from being next to him. How he can keep walking tall, stare at you when he thinks you aren’t looking, or even smile at you is beyond what you know is capable of humans. Men like him only existed in books and movies. You wonder if he’s perhaps playing a game like you.

By the time he’s in the truck to go back to town to catch a bus into the city, you’re sitting at the lake dock. Criss crossed legs, a bouncing knee, and fingernails being ripped at by your teeth. You stare blankly at the water, hoping for that sense of serenity to encapsulate you. It never seems to come. It just feels cold.

So you decide on punishing him for making you feel this way. 

You don’t leave your house for the next three days. You don’t make yourself known, heard or seen. However, you’re peeking out every window of your house to get any chance of a view of him. You hate yourself for being so curious of him in the first place. What was supposed to be good fun has only left you feeling angry. Taking his innocence was never going to heal you, or even make him like yourself. In fact, it’s making you sicker.

And on the night of the fourth Thursday, you’re laying in bed staring at your ceiling. A stuffed animal is hugged tightly to your chest. You can’t sleep and you can’t stop thinking about someone for the first time in your life. No amount of tossing and turning, counting sheep, or button presses to your distorted singing, stuffed bear made it easier. 

Somehow, you ended up punishing yourself. You always had a knack for that, historically, but this time felt different. It actually kind of hurt. Being alone came naturally to you, but tonight it hits you just how lonely you’ve always been. 

　Friday, the farmhands are huddled on the front porch of your house. All the animals are safely away in their designated homes thanks to their help. It started to storm in a heavy downpour only minutes ago. What started out as a dark gray gloom and windy rain quickly turned into an early flooded property, illuminated by strikes of flashing lightning and roaring thunder. 

You stand dry under the protection of the porch roof by the front door. Watching and listening to your mother suggest the shaking cold, soaked men take shelter in the lodge until the sky lets up so they can head home. 

Sunghoon hasn’t spared a look to you all day, but you know that he feels his eyes on you. It’s in the way he shifts awkwardly amongst the men that ignore him. How his eyes are trained low and unfocused yet always trying to move in your direction. His wet hair falls over his face, concealing his emotions you wish to dissect. He comes off as stoic but you know he wears his heart on his sleeve; how his body language speaks volumes. 

Your mother pushes past you to get back inside, saying she’ll check the basement for a spare heater that the boys could use at the lodge. There’s something in you that makes you move without thinking. Suddenly a hand is tugging at the bottom of Sunghoon’s damp jacket for his attention. The material is too thin for this weather and the thought of him becoming sick crosses your mind. 

“It’s warmer here,” your words, for once, came out soft. Too much so, being lost in the cracking sound of thunder. He looks at you through his bangs. The wave of alleviation from whatever he was dealing with is palpable. His eyes and body almost look relaxed. You tug him towards you once more, insinuating that he follows you. 

He does. Like whatever subconscious emotion made you approach him also made him follow you in. As he steps in, he notices the indistinguishable vibes of the farmer’s lodge. It’s updated and cleaner, but similar in aesthetics. A shotgun sits leaning up against the wall by the front door. His brows furrow and eyes narrow. “Those aren’t safe to have lying around…” he mumbles. 

You tug him towards the staircase to walk up, “It’s protection. Only my mother and I are here,” is mumbled back as you lead him up the wooden, creaking stairs. Your feet move light and quick, like a mouse in a home not theirs. If your mother saw you, there would be unnecessary consequences. And the possibility of your father’s involvement would only worsen such. 

Sunghoon cautiously steps into your bedroom, his body tenses at the sound of you shutting and locking the door. He feels on edge, wrapping his arms around his shivering body and soaked clothes. You move around him to sit on your bed, telling him to remove his sopping attire. He does so with shaking hands, leaving him in nothing but his underwear. He shyly looks around the room while using his hands to cover his manhoon. 

His eyes scan over you, sitting quietly on your bed with a look of contemplation that stares past him. A wooden cross hangs on the wall above your bed, the dark wood matches the decadent bed frame. The nightstand nearby has a pile of books and journals with a low light lamp and unlit candle. 

The large window has sheer white curtains drawn open and a vase on the windowsill. A glass vase filled with the flowers he gave you earlier in the week. His heart aches at the sight of the still healthy white roses and tulips, and a smile graces his lips. You liar! You kept them! Is what runs through his thoughts. 

Without Sunghoon realizing, you got up to grab a towel and drape over the back of his shoulders. He’s taken aback by your ghost-like actions, but offers you a small smile of appreciation. “Thanks…” 

You nod for response and glance from him to the vase of flowers he was lost in thought over. You didn’t have it in to explain yourself, mostly because you didn’t understand why you had done so either. 

He dries himself off and finds a place to sit at the end of your bed. You’re on the other end with your back pressed to the headboard, watching him, counting every mole you can find on his pale canvas. The stuffed animal you sleep with is being mindlessly fumbled around in your hands. 

Sunghoon turns to face you directly, he reaches a hand out, eyes shifting from your face and the winged bear. You shoot him a mean look at first, only holding it closer to yourself before your face softens to slowly extend it out to him. 

He takes it with careful hands and looks down to inspect the old toy. Its cream colored fur is dirtied and matted with age. The holographic satin wings on the back have loose stitching and its halo is crooked. Across the chest of the bear reads ‘Jesus Loves Me’ but it’s obvious the sewn name Jesus has been ripped away at. One paw has a red heart embroidered saying ‘press me’. His thumb brushes over the button heart before pressing down. The bear sings in a distorted happy voice the lullaby of Jesus loves me. 

“His name is Saint Michael,” you say quietly and he almost doesn’t catch it. Sunghoon can only breathe a laugh because he finds the dichotomy cute. You almost laugh too, but bite your tongue and look back to your empty hands. You don’t know it but he can see you try to fight your little smile. To him, this moment means more than anything; he’s starting to see you’re more tender than you realize. It brings him a sense of surety in knowing that he can break you like you to do him. 

Silly as it may seem for a troubled girl, the bear was the only comfort you had throughout childhood. There was no kindness from your father, no solace from your mother, no guide in knowing life or love. But there was Saint Michael, the stuffed angel bear; he may not have defended you in battle but he hugged you back, and that was enough to cherish him like a deity. 

Sunghoon crawls across the bed and sits himself next to you, too close for your liking, but you don’t push him away. He hands the stuffie back to you and you place it on the nightstand to face away from you. You lower yourself in the bed, shuffling under the covers of the blanket and he does the same. His skin naked bare yearns for more warmth, yours specifically. 

You feel him turn on his side next to you, pressing up against you despite there being enough space on the bed. His movements are awkward and nervous like he is. You feel a certain pressure against your thigh that isn’t his bones or limbs. You spare him a glance, he doesn’t know if it’s a warning or dare. 

“...Have I ruined you?” You wonder aloud, looking back to the ceiling. 

“No,” he answers quickly, shaking his head against your shoulder. The way he’s missed you in his desire to touch you, hands tingling with want to snake around your waist and pull you in tight. “I think I just want you all the time now. I can’t help it, m’sorry.” He sounds ashamed in his soft mumbles. 

“I’ll only keep stripping all that purity from you. Once it’s mine it’ll remain mine, you know that right?” You look back at him before brushing some of his drying hair from his eyes. He tries to lean up into the touch but your hand is taken back. “And I will pretend it’s healing all that’s missing from me. Do you really want to be mine, Sunghoon?” Your words are so gentle yet laced with threat. 

“Yes,” he exhales, “I want to be yours. Let me be yours please.” It’s hushed, a secret prayer with hope. His hips push further into the skin of your leg, where the hip meets the thigh. He wouldn’t mind going to Hell if it meant more time with you. 

“You beg like a needy barn animal in heat.” You use a hand to cup his face, he sighs into the hold as he eyes flutter to a close. You push your leg in between his, terribly close to his exposed and vibrating body. “So hump me like one.” 

“W-what?” he stutters out before licking over his lips, his thighs squeezing around the plush of yours now trapped in his. His eyes already wet with desperate want, staring back at yours.

“Do it. Like it’s mating season and you want to claim me before anyone else.” 

A cracked voice whine falls from his lips and he begins to roll his growing bulge against you. You watch as he sucks in breaths between quiet breathy moans. His pink, plump lips pursing and falling open. His eyes try to stay on your face, how close you are to him, but they fall shut sometimes in his basking of rapture. It’s a slutty sight of a faith-sickened boy. 

He loves the little to no proximity that there is. His hands find place on your waist, and he’s aware of how that makes you feel, but he can’t stop it. He wants more and more of you. His hands slide up under your shirt, the feeling on your bare skin in his hands makes his body shudder. Untouched, warm flesh for his large hands to explore and learn every curve of. 

Even you stiffen at his exploration, holding in your breath as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe. Your shirt lifts up more with his hands and the exposure is daunting like you’re revealing your insides. 

The pit of your stomach lights up and you're frozen under his clutch. The pads of his fingers hold you so tight as if he’s scared you’ll disappear. His cock is raging and you can feel every pulse of blood that his heart beat floods to. He’s humping into you desperately, chasing the euphoria that he could never find on his own. Such a delicate, shy boy now driven by lust and longing. 

“You’re pathetic and disgusting. You’re practically fucking me through our clothes,” you murmur while you try to push his hands down off you, but his grip won’t let up. Instead his nails dig further into you, a barely sounding broken noise escapes you from the pain. This makes his body collapse further into you, his head dropping between your shoulder and neck. His movements are sloppy and rushed. 

“N-no, I’m still good. You make me feel good, I am so good,” he whines, tears beginning to fall from his eyes to your shoulder. You try to imagine his holy water is washing you clean but it only singes. 

“Tell me that only I make you feel good, that you’re only good for me.” 

“Only you—can only be you to make me good,” he cries against your warmth, rocking himself into you roughly. His leaking cock begins to twitch against you and his hips won’t quit their stuttered jerks. 

You hum lightly and run a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He looks up at you with those desperate, wet, dark eyes and you can’t help but acknowledge how pretty he is like this. His puffy cheeks are flushed pink as the tip of his nose. “Only for me,” you mumble.

“Yes, thank you, I am yours. Yes.” His breaths are jagged and heavy. There’s a coiling in his abdomen that feels borderline explosive. You were right, he craves this feeling. It’s surreal to him how he’s gone so long without it. His arms wrap around you completely now, holding you down while his body rolls on top of yours, situated between your legs. His heart hammers against your chest; he wants to mold into you, to become a singular rot. 

You squeak a gasp, being caged down by him. Your heart beats with the same veracity. One of your arms wraps around his waist to hold his back while the other holds the back of his head that hasn’t left the safety of your neck. He continuously sobs through meek moans. His hair tickles your skin like sparks while his lips brush over your jaw and neck making the tingle feel like crackling flames. 

Under his weight you feel yourself slipping in both confidence and dominance, your body wanting to sink down in submission from the unknown comfort of his control. Your heart aches and you feel something you’ve never felt before. You think you’re scared of it, yet your body pulls him closer. Hand in his hair, tugging with fearful aggression. Nails piercing the skin of his shoulder blade. You’re pliant under his heavy thrusts and sounds of sin. 

The rain pours harder outside with whips of harsh winds smacking the window. It’s almost like God’s wrath is screaming to be seen, to shout that He is watching. 

Sunghoon’s hard cock is relentless against your core. The rough grind of him is stimulating in ways   you’ve never felt before, your body sensitive and starving for more. You squeeze your eyes shut and moan within your closed mouth, hating yourself for feeling this way because it was never supposed to be about you. You are betraying yourself more than your fathers.

The sounds you try to withhold make Sunghoon weaker. He feels uncontrollable, only becoming needier and hungrier with his movements, “I can’t stop. I can’t stop.” He whines, begging for you to vocalize how you feel it too. 

You feel like you’re breaking underneath him, and it feels shameful. Like every harsh word your father ever spat at you was true now that you’re a part of the experience and not just the cause. Everything is too much. It takes every ounce of strength you have to turn both of your bodies over. Now sitting up on top of his lap, you can finally breathe again, sighing in relief. He whimpers at the distance between you both but also from the view of you. 

He moans your name softly as he grips your hips, pushing himself up into your clothed pussy like he’s fucking you. Your hands push down on his shoulders. You stare into his eyes with a plain expression and contrasting sharp eyes, grinding your hips back down on top of him. It’s hard to ignore the way it makes you feel, watching him fall apart beneath you as his pulsing cock fucks against you, but you manage. 

“Cum for me,” you demand quietly, “make a mess and imagine it’s inside me.” 

“Holy fu—ngh,” his entire body spasms and shudders with a low groan falling from his open lips. His movements slow down only to become lazier and uncoordinated. You can feel the warm wetness he spills soak through your thin pajama shorts and underwear. 

“You’re right. You are good for me,” you coo softly, cupping his face and using your thumbs to wipe away the tears. Your hips circle and swivel slowly on him until his quivering cock finishes cumming. 

Sunghoon has a sparkle to his wet eyes. The way the gentle praise left your lips makes him melt, and he can’t stop the flickering glance between your eyes and lips. He breathes heavily through his post clarity. Still he basks in your touch with a hopeful look in his eyes. His tongue slides over his lips before he’s leaning up towards your face, hands affixed to your waist to pull you closer to him. 

This makes a wave of panic wash over you, knowing what he wants to do. You shake your head no and pull yourself away, slipping off of his lap only to turn away from him. 

“None of that. It’s not what-” 

And then there’s a press of lips to your cheek. Your face burns as if a hot coal was what kissed your face. Your eyes go wide, turning to see the boy sitting up next to you. He only wears a shy smile as he sees your reaction.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a week now,” he admits with a small laugh. “Not exactly there but that’s fine. I wish you would let me help you feel good too.” he whispers, looking back to the windowsill where the gifted flowers stood in their vase with the raging storm as their backdrop. 

“That’s dumb and I don’t need to,” you reply, still watching him stare forward. Your chest feels painful; it’s an ache like shattered glass trying to piece together in the wrong ways. Stabbing but trying.

“I think you deserve to,” he argues. “But I understand if it’s not what you want. I was really touchy and I shouldn’t have been because you don’t seem like it. I was too caught up in the moment.” His mind goes to the mess he’s still sitting in and he feels self-conscious all over again. “Is it embarrassing how much I need you?”

You blink at him, swallowing the words that were never going to come out because you didn’t even know what they should or would be. So you settle with a simple, “No.”

You think it would kill you to admit how much you actually always wished to be wanted, needed, or loved. A bigger part of you didn’t think you were worthy of it, let alone capable. The world had such a way of saying otherwise. Until it brought Sunghoon to you; the boy who showed you feelings and experiences you never thought possible. 

As if he could read your mind, he asks, “Why did you choose me out of everyone?” He falls back onto the bed, laying down and pulling the blanket over himself. 

“I think you reminded me of a lamb.” 

“Pardon?” His brows furrow. 

You lay back down next to him, facing him like he is to you. “Pretty, white, and docile. You were so nervous when I first saw you—sometimes you still are.” You even laugh a little. “When you shook my hand I knew I could do anything to you because you’d let me.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” He smiles wide, scooting closer to you. 

You scoff with an eye roll, leaning further away from him. “Oh shut up, you’ve seen a mirror.” 

And then it’s his turn to laugh a little. He looks at you like you’re the reason the sun rises and falls. It kind of hurts you to see him like this because it reminds you of your initial rotten intentions and how they’re dissipating the more you’re with him. 

Time passes faster than the two of you realize. There’s light banter and easy conversations. You learn more about Sunghoon. Where he goes to school, what he studies, and who his friends are. He tells you of the sports he used to do and what he does in free time with his best friend. The more you learn about him, the more you understand his naivety and how despite what you’ve done, he won’t change. There’s something lovely about it. 

You don’t have much to share about your life the way he does, at least not in the same light. But you show him your favorite books, drawings you made over the years, and share the stories of movies you found interesting. He savors the moment of you simply confiding, enjoying the more he can know about you. 

The storm passes later in the evening. So caught up in borrowing time, the rain has slowed down to a simple pitter patter. The clouds dispersed and the setting sun only came through to say goodbye to the day. 

The sound of the truck that the farmhands use to take back to town is heard roaring to life, signalling you and Sunghoon that it’s safe and time to head out. 

Sunghoon jumps out of bed but by the time he’s shoving himself into his still damp jeans and looking out the window, the truck is already speeding down the dirt, now mud riddled road. 

“They just left without me,” he breathes out. “I’m used to them leaving me out, but t-this is.. How am I going to get home?” He looks back to you with sad eyes, not the light they had earlier. He’s not shocked by their actions, but he is disappointed. A hand runs through his hair in his stress. 

“Should I kill them?” Your question is brazen, body and voice eerily still in your seriousness. 

“W-what?!” he whispers in shock, freezing for a moment. 

“I’m joking.” You sit up and watch Sunghoon resume getting dressed. “I think you should head back to the lodge for the night. There’s a washer and dryer for your clothes. And spare food for dinner too.” 

Sunghoon nods slightly, “your jokes are weird, but okay.” He looks like he’s thinking of something, taking his bottom lip between his teeth in thought before speaking again. “Can you stay with me for the night at least?” he asks shyly. 

“No,” comes out quicker than you intended. “...But I guess I can walk with you there.” 

He nods again but now with his signature small dimpled smile. You almost forgot about being angry at the other farmhands for taking it away. 

You have to make sure the coast is clear before leaving the house. You tiptoe down the halls and stairs, weary of where your mother is inside the house. To your luck, she’s in her usual state. She’s passed out on the couch with two empty bottles of wine on the floor. The television volume is low, playing a rerun of the reverend’s sermon; the devil himself of your childhood, preaching about how he lost his child to the otherside. 

With a finger to your lips, you silently signal for Sunghoon to be quiet and to follow you out. 

Once safely out of the front door, you take his hand in yours and start running for the lodge. The tall boy is behind you, so you don’t get to see the bright smile on his lips or in his eyes as you run through the light run towards the lodge. 

Now standing in the front doorway of the farmer’s lodge, wet from the sky all over again and still hand in hand, Sunghoon bravely speaks up.

“I don’t like it when you disappear on me,” he breathes out shakily, honestly. “Nobody else sees me like you do,” he squeezes your hand tighter in his, feeling you begin to pull away. “Come with me into the city tomorrow. We can- I’m not sure yet, but I’m sure I want more time with you.” 

His eye contact is unwavering, begging. Both of his strong hands hold onto yours. You glance from your hand then back to his pleading expression. He will always remain so sweet, no matter what you do to him. 

“I felt less lonely before I met you,” you confess, eyes unblinking as you stare up at him for a long pause. “I’ll meet you here in the morning.” 

In only seconds, he’s pulling you into a hug. His arms wrap around you so tightly as he holds you to his chest. You go stiff in his arms, forgetting how to breathe for a moment. What feels suffocating at first turns into a warmth you’ve become all too familiar with, and it was never anger. The indignation you always wear is just a hand me down from your parents; it doesn’t fit you right even though it’s comfortable. 

With a shaky exhale, you wrap your arms around him too. The hug surrounds you like a blanket of unknown comfort. Your ear pressed to his chest listens to the sound of his racing heart. You can feel the pound throughout his entire body too. Every emotion held within is trying and fighting to be seen. It’s still so cold from the rain but he feels contrast, only warm. His lips press a kiss to the top of your head, making your body burn even more and your hold all the tighter. 

　True to your word, you meet Sunghoon at the farmer’s lodge the next morning. He seems happier than usual. Very giddy to be spending a weekend day with you without work in the way. No distractions or excuses to leave. Just the two of you and a new day with zero obligations.

Because you had a spare bike, you both are able to peddle towards town to the bus stop together. Having made these frequent trips alone, you’re familiar with the owner of the gas station at the stop. He’s a deaf older man, and it surprises Sunghoon that you know how to sign and ask him to hold onto the bikes until you’re back. You tell Sunghoon that you learned some basics from reading a book you bought a long time ago. 

Stunned, Sunghoon realizes that you went out of your way to do so for one man who watches your bike while you endure solo trips. You, the odd girl who was mean and sinful, used your money and learned a language for one man who did a simple favor. He’s learning more to admire you for by the day, and it’s crazy to him how you don’t see your own charm. 

Sunghoon pays your bus fares even though you insisted on being capable of doing so yourself. Sat in the middle of the bus that’s only barely half filled, he asks if there’s anything you’d like to do for the day while in the city. Nobody has ever asked you such an effortless thing, and you like it more than you imagined. Just uncomplicated curiosity of your wishes. 

“The book store. The small yellow one on main street. Maybe see a movie if anything is worth seeing.” You shrug, spewing out the usual things you do. Looking around the taken bus seats, you notice some familiar faces. 

“That sounds nice,” he smiles, “our first real date! I think there’s a cafe near that book store too. Do you like coffee?” 

Your cheeks burn as you stare at him in bewilderment, “you think we’re going on a date?!” 

“Of course we are,” he laughs like it’s obvious and wraps an arm around your shoulder, looking out of the window. All that the town can offer him other than you passes by. “I’m a fan of americanos. You seem like you’d take your coffee black.” 

“I don’t even like coffee,” you mumble, turning your attention out of the window as well. “Tea is nice though.” You add in, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Hm. I can see that too,” he hums as he pulls you closer into his side. 

So much can change in such little time. You’ve experienced this many times in one life. How one day can open a new door to a path otherwise not taken. Showing Sunghoon more of you has made him bloom into a larger ray of light. He seems more comfortable, and now you’ve become the awkward one. 

The ride to the city doesn’t normally take this long, or at least you don’t think it does. Every second with him by your side makes the experience feel brand new. The theme of time being unreal is common with him, you’ve discovered. It’s when you’re in the bookstore and see a holiday sale that you realize it’s not even June anymore. 

While Sunghoon looks for books for his upcoming college semester, you find yourself in genre sections you never really cared for before. The dark and racy ones were fun to bring home, sure. But innocent, cliche romance was always something cringey to you. Now if you change your perspective to that of research then it’s less daunting, right? Perhaps you’d make sense of all the things you’re discovering about yourself and him. Yeah, that’s convincing enough. 

He teases you at the checkout counter when he sees what you picked out. Your face flushes in embarrassment and you can’t even bite back at him or defend your choices. So you smack him with the book on the way out while he laughs and makes jokes that aren’t very funny. 

The two of you do manage to catch a movie. You honestly didn’t care to see one, but having to sit silently in a theater for at least an hour and half seemed like enough time for him to, hopefully, forget and drop the whole book situation. It’s a summer slasher film. A group of teens go camping and the plot is very ‘who done it’ style. Overall, it’s a fun choice. You have your turn to laugh and joke when Sunghoon gets jumpy or scared. 

After the movie, you both end up at the cafe Sunghoon mentioned while on the bus. There was something painfully intimate about everything today. But especially sitting down to eat with him. Not even your mother could meet you at the table anymore. 

“You seem softer today,” Sunghoon states, setting his half-drunk coffee down. “Almost nervous. Is it because we’re out together for our first date? Or just the people in general?” 

You raise a brow at his brazen curiosity and observation. “Maybe you’re rubbing off on me,” you play with your fork to move around the barely touched food in front of you. “Or maybe it’s a bit of both.” 

“If you come to the city enough to know sign language for the man who watches your bike, do you like it better than the countryside?” 

“Don’t know. I’m used to the quiet life, but leaving it behind and pretending it’s not there is nice too.” 

“What keeps you there?” 

“The scenery. The air. The lake. Being friends with the animals.” You look up from the plate to Sunghoon who is watching you like a lecture: attentive and learning. “I’m not very good with people, so I think it suits me alright.” 

“You’re good with me though,” he argues softly.

“No, not really. I wish I was more like everyone else,” you inhale deeply as your eyes wander around the bustling cafe. There’s a choir of laughter, conversations, and social dynamics you would have to study to master. “If I were a good person, everything would be easier.” 

“...but I like you as you are,” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear, watching you shift in your seat. He doesn’t think you’re not a good person, and it hurts that you see yourself as such. 

As Sunghoon speaks, there’s a chime that follows as the front door of the cafe is swung open. A disheveled man stumbles inside, heavy feet stomping the tile floor to attempt to stabilize his disorientation. The man burps obnoxiously loud, and many eyes find him with the grand entrance. 

He scratches at his lengthy, unkept beard as he looks around. When his sunken eyes find you sitting at the table nearby his eyes grow wide and his mouth falls open. His hand shakes with a pointed finger in your direction, “y-you! The girl from the reverend’s sermon!” He’s loud, capturing the attention of everyone now. His sloppy movements make way towards you and Sunghoon; you feel everything within you freeze, and your heart knocks at your chest fast and hard with anxiety.  

He slams his hands on the table, causing your plates and drinks to rattle. He reeks badly of alcohol and his crazed eyes never leave yours. You swallow thickly, fight or flight mode still trying to understand the situation before you. Meanwhile Sunghoon, worried and confused, slowly begins to stand up and grab your bags. 

But you, you’re frozen staring at the messy man who talks of your greatest hate. Your hands tremble on the table. 

“I thought the reverend made you up for stories, but my God! You’re the real living thing just like the pictures; his only sin,” he laughs boisterously in your face and you try not to gag. “I saw him a little whiles earlier, ya know,” his voice goes quieter, it’s taunting even. You wish to remain calm but your eyes tremble and a frown takes your face. “I should go find him and tell him you’re here. He really-”

Sunghoon takes your hand, practically dragging you away from the table. You almost fall from your seat, like a baby deer just learning to walk, there’s little strength to your legs. 

“It’s not too late! You can be on the right side of things!” his voice ricochets off the walls of the now quiet cafe. “If I can be saved by his preaching, so can you! Look at me!” His mad laughter follows you and Sunghoon outside. 

Sunghoon watches you stand on uneasy feet, zoned out staring at the sidewalk. It didn’t take much to put the pieces together that the drunken man was talking about your father. Your father being a reverend who’s not in the picture gave him much to wonder about, but now isn’t the time. He just wanted to get you somewhere away from this memory. 

He crouches down in front of you. You slowly blink back to reality, now looking down at his back. You don’t want to speak so you poke his shoulder in questioning.

“Hop on. Let’s go somewhere else.”

“What if I’m heavy?” you look at the bags he’s already holding, feeling that you too are a burdened weight he doesn’t need to hold. 

“I’ve got good muscles, remember? Good for farm work,” he’s patient and calm with you while his eyes watch the man from outside the glass cafe windows. “Come on, baby.”

Without thinking, you end up on his back. He carries you on his back, strong arms holding your legs while yours are loosely around his neck. Your insides are a flared up hurricane but at least that allows your body to forget the empty ache you left at the cafe. With your chin hooked over his shoulder, you watch the many people and downtown stores that pass by.

Sunghoon doesn’t exactly know where he’s walking, but thinks it’s best to end the day here and return you to the bus stop. He’s never seen that look on your face before—the one you had when the man was loud in your face. He didn’t like it, and he’s sure you hated it. You looked intimidated, or afraid. 

“Would you kill him for me?” you watch the side of his face, “the reverend, I mean.” 

He stops in his tracks and turns his head to look back at you, “w-what? I can’t kill someone… and you should joke like that.” he panics, looking around to see if someone was listening to the wild conversation and request.

“Yeah, I know. I’m fucking with you,” you look away to hide your smirk, “and only half joking.”

“Did you believe him before?” He starts walking again, but this time at a slower pace knowing the bus stop isn’t too far now. 

“Who? My dad or Our Father?” There’s a use of air quotes at the end of your question. 

“Both?” his head tilts. 

“Neither,” you confirm. There’s a pause for thought and Sunghoon waits for you to further explain. “My relationship with both is too similar. They’ve both known me my whole life, right? Seen all of my wrong doings and in return shown wrath through unnecessary punishments called forgiveness. In what good world is tolerance violent?”

“What do you mean? What did he do?”

“Sometimes, after my mother set the table for dinner, he would knock my plate to the floor. Tell me to eat off the ground like the animal I was or starve.” Sunghoon frowns at this, coming to a slow stop when he sees the bus shelter bench. “Sometimes I had days and nights locked in the barns, but he switched it up to the basement when I was too close with the animals.” You laugh a little, but he senses the pain behind it. “I watched him kill the animals, too, only to smother me in their blood. Beatings were rare, but I think only because he despised the thought of even touching me.”

Sunghoon slowly sets you down to the ground and breathes out your name safely, taking your hands into his. He looks at you with sorrow, like he was the one who endured it with you. 

“God’s orders, am I right? My father, the church goers, speak of God like they’ve seen his face and heard his voice, but they haven’t. I would’ve by now too.” 

If He was really in everything, all around, why did He always turn a blind eye? Why does He pretend to not know you? It only made it harder to believe in—something that would bring you here, torture you then watch you suffer for not living how it pleases. God wants to be believed in, but so do you. Only you would never beg for compassion. 

Sunghoon squeezes your hands in his, “I don’t think you should stay there. You never deserved that… even if you’re volatile and strange… because you’re also kind and caring. It’s why I like you. It’s their fault for not seeing that,” he reassures. “I haven’t been through what you have, and I can’t understand. I-I mean I can try to, ya know… it’s not like I’d leave if I didn’t.” His words begin to stumble nervously, not confident in its sympathy reaching you where needed.

You laugh nervously, trying to tug your hands away from his grip that doesn’t let up. “Okay sure whatever, this is really embarrassing now…” You swallow hard and find difficulty in meeting his eyes. 

That’s all that matters, what he said to you, but you didn’t have it in you to say it. He already knows it though, smiling small and holding your hands still. Without words or excessive displays he can still see it in your eyes, the subtle comfort of acceptance. 

He could never blame you for your nature. He sees your anger as you just trying to be strong all while being sad. Whether you are his lover or executioner, he would accept you as you are every time with open arms, receiving hands. Even more readily, now.

　Even more time has passed since knowing Sunghoon. Summer has never flown by so fast. The calendar doesn’t exist to you anymore. It’s only the days you see him and the days that you don’t. The season will be wrapping up in the next few weeks, but only for him. He has to return to his regular scheduled routine of pursuing education while you will stay here, on the farm. It’s rare for you to feel this emotion: fear. You are scared of losing him. And the concept is something you do your best to avoid thinking about because it makes your skin itch with anxiety. It crawls over you like something that needs to be cut out. 

And then an idea hits you. Something far more deep-seated than everything else you’ve done with Sunghoon that would solidify that this summer is real and yours. Something that will always stay; a reminder that good things are possible despite how the world has made you. 

It’s a damn near perfect day. The sun is so bright, and only peers down onto you both through the gaps of the trees. It’s just warm enough. Just quiet enough aside from the sound of Sunghoon’s gentle breathing and natural composition of the nature that surrounds. Rustling of leaves, chirps of birds, and scurrying of whatever life that wishes to not be seen. 

You both sit criss cross at the wooden dock by the lake, simply enjoying the scenery and all it has to offer. His large knee is affixed to yours. If this was early June, you would have moved away. But now it’s a week into August and you wouldn’t have it anywhere else. Just like you always imagined, and secretly wanted, the view is nicer with someone else. 

He didn’t bother asking why you never brought him here before, or why it is that you chose to now. He’s just happy that you decided to at all. 

You slip a hand into your boot and pull out a pocket knife. You flick it open and do a brief inspection of the cleaned blade. The sun glints off the metal as you turn it. 

“Sunghoon, do you trust me?” 

His eyes flicker from your blank face to the blade. He nods slowly with a swallow, “of course.” There’s a subtle apprehension to him. You hand him the small blade and leave your palm facing up, open to him. 

“Cut a diagonal line down my hand,” you point and draw a line down the middle of your palm. 

“Huh, seriously?” he takes the blade confused and concerned with what you’re asking of him. “Why? I can’t hurt you.”

“Do it. Don’t think of it as hurting me, but still do it deep enough to leave a scar.” 

He struggles to understand the situation, but you’re so serious and clearly waiting for him to do as you asked. He exhales deeply, taking your hand in his while the other holds the knife just above the bared skin. Hesitant and slow, the tip of the knife pressed down into your flesh. You wince a little, which makes him pause. You nod, encouraging him to continue and he does despite hating the act. He slices the palm of your hand open just as you wanted. You hate blood, but it’s not so bad when caused by him.

“Shit, it stings,” you swallow through the pain. The feel of open flesh burning and stinging. “Your turn,” you exhale while taking the knife back with your free, unharmed hand. 

“My turn,” he agrees as if all logic has left him and readily displays his palm to you. Deep down, he feels guilty for hurting you, so to make it even he wants to feel the same.

Just as hesitant and careful, you create a matching wound in his hand. A deep enough, bleeding, lesion in his left hand to match  your right one. He cringes at the sight and the pain before looking back to your face. Your expression is so soft yet attentive, almost awestruck. 

“Even when you hurt me you’re gentle,” he remarks, watching you in amazement with a meek smile. 

“I am not gentle. I have sullied you,” you remind him, your eyes attempt to glare but they’re too bright in his. 

“In the softest way, why?” His voice is delicate and still like the lake that sits before you. You blink slowly at him because there are no words to be found. He continues, “I never thought of you as a bad person,” he pauses as you drop the red stained knife, unsure if he should continue at first but does regardless. “And, uhm, I’ve thought a lot about this summer. What I've learned from you. Purity is constructive—like something made to bring shame.” You don’t move, watching him. “I don’t have to be clean to be good…and your hands never made me dirty. Because they never were either.” 

Like an excavator to your tall, strong built walls Sunghoon has knocked your shield down. The facade of your character is breaking down, crumbling into the broken pieces that made it. A single tear escapes your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s rare for you to cry and you’re disgusted with the reality as to why it’s now that you break. Simply falling apart from kind words. 

You try to use everything in you to ignore the heat in your body, to show the anger you think you’re feeling inside. So your eyes remain sharp and strong, boring into his, as they still water. You swallow the dry lump in your throat and without a word, you take his hand into yours to join in a mix of blood. 

At first, you had one goal; one similar to murder. The sparkle he had in his eyes, you wanted to eat—to make them empty—and see the world ugly and godless like you. Yet somehow, somewhere along the way, his eyes shone even brighter. You only wanted to take and take of the innocent boy, but in this moment you realize, maybe I just wanted to give him some of me. 

You wipe the wet drop away from your face with haste, pretending as if it was never there. Whatever blood oath you’re making with Sunghoon allows you to feel something indescribable. You don’t know if it’s deserved, but you smile anyways. Because the indescribable feeling feels like it’s an unknown, unspoken promise. 

He’s seen you smile before with insidious malice, but this time, for the first time, you are really smiling. It’s a raw expression of surfacing emotions, and he returns the emotion like the sun. He thought of you beautiful before but with your brightness finally peering through your clouds, he believes you to be heaven sent. A part of him always wanted to see you cry—usually it was him with tears in his eyes; which is funny, because he wasn’t much of a cryer himself. You just had that way of breaking him down. He knows now he does for you too. And he can tell that you’re probably the type of person who needs to cry the most. 

His hand squeezes yours tighter, a grip so loving, as you bind in one. Neither of your eyes or smiles leave each other until the bleeding stops. 

　A week later, Sunghoon asks you on a date. The summer fair is in town. It’s something like a festival where all the locals from towns around the city come to visit and join in on festivities from carnival games, rides, food, and uncommon entertainments. You think of being mean, denying him the acceptance of the date, but you have always wanted to go. So you said yes without your words: took his scarred hand in yours and nodded. 

The evening sky is a watercolor of warm tones as the sun begins to lay down for the night. The bright lights of the fair illuminate the large open field turned carnival. There’s a sea of people here tonight, and although it makes you nervous inside, having Sunghoon by your side makes the ordeal easier to handle. 

The line for the ticket booth is lengthy but it passes by. You approach the booth, standing a little behind Sunghoon who takes out his wallet to buy your entrance wristband passes and tickets. You look around at the many people: families, friends, and couples, all immersed in their own experience as the music and sounds blend in the background of conversations. 

“Oh wow! You’re really handsome,” the girl at the ticket booth gawks at Sunghoon. She straightens her posture and fixes her hair from her face, “one ticke-?”

Catching this, you step forward and snatch Sunghoon’s wallet from his hands, “he already knows that. Do your job or I’ll feed you to pigs.” You slap the cash amount for what you need down onto the table top with a straight face and mean eyes. 

Her eyes go wide and she hushes an apology, quickly giving you both wristbands and tickets for the evening. She even threw in extra tickets as you stared her down. 

Sunghoon watches you with a flushed face, even the tips of his ears burn red at your jealous threat. You both walk off into the fair, a sheepish smile on his face as he leads you through the crowd with an arm wrapped around your back and hand to your waist. 

“Was that one of your jokes too?” he grins down at you.

“Nope,” you glance at him with a small smile. You weren’t sure what came over you in the moment, but it was something internally deep, and territorial. An innate reaction to someone trying to appeal to something that belongs to you. It felt ugly and you didn’t like it. 

The idea that he could possibly be taken from you was a phenomenon you’ve thought of for a while now. Knowing he has an existing life outside you, outside of this summer, that he would return you made you sick. You’re far from perfect, or the right thing for him, and he could find a safer option if he ever pleased. Pushing the thoughts away is harder than you imagine, so you cling to his side even more. 

You and Sunghoon use up your spare tickets for carnival games. You toss rings around bottles, shoot water guns into the mouth of a clown frame, and throw darts at balloons. The both of you aren’t very skilled at any of the games, but it's fun enough to enjoy the time without winning a prize to show for it. 

Eventually, Sunghoon does find frustration within the ‘rigged’ set up of the games. He even pulls out his wallet for cash when the tickets are gone. You’re surprised at how competitive he is; his determined nature is something that stirs your insides around. You don’t know if you’ve ever smiled so much in your life. 

After 3 rounds of throwing a ball to knock over a moving target, he does manage to win. Going 3 for 3 and not missing a single shot. The excitement you feel when he succeeds takes over and you’re proud, doing little jumps in place and clapping your hands together. 

“You did it! You won!” you exclaim, hugging onto his side. 

He can only smile down at your joyfulness. A fire burns in his heart and he hugs you back, kissing your forehead. “All for you. Which prize do you want?” 

“It’s yours, you should pick it,” you blush, elbowing his side with a shy smile while your eyes keep looking up to the stuffed white lamb with a lace ribbon around its neck and a cushion gold bell adoring the throat. 

Of course, that’s the prize he ends up choosing. It might not be Saint Michael the stuffed bear, but it’s something far happier, cleaner, and softer. 

The stuffed animal never leaves your hold throughout the rest of the evening. It rides the many rides you and Sunghoon do. And sits at the picnic table with you both as you share fair snacks. Popcorn and cotton candy was never so sweet for either of you. Like contentment melting on your tongues. 

Cliche as ever, Sunghoon wants to end the night there with a round on the ferris wheel. The line moves quickly and when it’s your turn to step into the carriage, he takes your hand and sits you down the seat next to him. 

It moves slowly and rocks back and forth with shaky movements that have you gripping the side handles. With an arm around your shoulder, he holds you close to him. The array of flickering colorful lights and people below you feels almost magical. 

Taking your eyes from the heightened difference between you and the ground, you look back to the boy beside you who is already looking at you. The reflection of rainbow luminescence glistens in his eyes. It’s even prettier than the view from the top of the little world you’re in. You give him a shy smile, finding it impossible to look away. 

He says your name in a whisper, taking your chin between your fingers. “Thank you for choosing to let me in.” 

Confused and wide eyed, you watch him lean into your face. You gasp when his lips meet yours before returning the notion. With eyes closed, you melt into his kiss. It’s sweet as all the things you’ve experienced today because of him. 

It’s also as clumsy and messy as a kiss can be for two people who’ve never done so before. However, human nature and desire take over and ease the rest for you both. Lips move over another in a gentle waltz, careful and slow. 

And as if the situation couldn’t get anymore cliche, fireworks light up the sky. At first you thought it was just your imagination and all the books you’ve read flooding your consciousness, but the booming sounds and cheers of the crowd are too loud to not be real. 

You pull away from him first, and he’s already wearing a shit eating grin so wide that you can’t help but roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile back at him. Your face burns in both embarrassment and adrenaline from the kiss. 

After that, you don’t leave the city like you should. The bus takes you both back downtown but neither you or Sunghoon feel it’s time for goodbye. So, for the first time, he takes you back to his apartment. You’ve never been to anybody else's home before, and it’s nerve wracking to say the least. The complex is large and somewhat modern, housing many of the second and third year private college students.

When you step inside, it’s quite plain but at least clean. You’re immediately greeted by a boy shorter than Sunghoon. He has a big mouth smile and shining dark eyes. His hair is shaggy but it suits him. He’s practically bouncing on his toes. You shift yourself behind Sunghoon and hold onto his shirt, hiding slightly from the excited puppy-like roommate. 

“How did it go? Oh, and nice to finally meet you,” he rambles out quickly, “I’m Jake. The best friend and roommate. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He shoots Sunghoon a wink before grinning back at you. He extends a hand for you to shake but you don’t reach out. Something about his eyes doesn’t sit right with you. 

“She’s shy,” Sunghoon laughs a little as he guides you past Jake and towards his room. “It was fun though. I recommend going before it’s gone.”

“Ah, you got yourself a nice little angel, huh?” Jake leans over the kitchen island, watching you both. His smile falters. “I’ll have one of my own some day.” For some reason, you think of him as a secret pervert.

Sunghoon laughs his comment off and tells Jake goodnight before showing you to his room. His room is neat and as simple as a college boy’s room can be. A bed, desk, dresser, closet, and bathroom. One poster of a musician you’ve never listened to and a window with unopened blinds. 

You sit yourself at the end of his bed and he sits down next to you. There��s some awkward silence as you look around, unsure of what you’re supposed to do. He feels similarly to your internal dilemma. 

“I-I’ve never had-”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. Of course he’s never had a girl over. And of course you’ve never been over to a boys house. 

“Are you tired?” he asks, and you lie by nodding your head. So you both get ready for bed. He gives you a shirt to borrow for bed that change into in his bathroom while he changes into sweats and a t-shirt in his room. 

In minutes you’re both laying in his bed under the covers and staring up at his ceiling in the dark room. Not a word is said as you both lay there wide awake and untouching. But you know he’s wanting to by the way his body is shifting and turning, inching closer with every minute movement. 

And before you know it, although expected, his body is nestled closely to yours. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into an embrace. For the most part, he usually does keep his space. Knowing how you are when it comes to physical touch that feels too sudden or invading. But with barriers breaking down more over time, he thinks you’re learning to handle the comfort better. 

“I thought you were tired?” he mumbles, head on your shoulder. His hands trace up and down your arms that are wrapped around yourself like a guard. 

“I lied,” you whisper. Your eyes can’t look at him yet, so they remain aimless to the ceiling. Some moonlight slips through his cracked window blinds, giving you enough view of the spinning ceiling fan. 

“I had fun today. Mostly because you did. I like seeing you happy,” he smiles after kissing your shoulder that’s exposed in the neckline of his shirt too big for you. “And… I liked when you kissed me back,” his voice is quiet and shy-like. 

“Do you want to do it again?” Your eyes shift to him and you can barely see the warm flush to his cheeks. He’s cute. 

Taken aback at first, he just blinks at you with a parted mouth. Then he nods his head slowly, licking over his lips. 

You turn over onto your side to face him and his hands don’t leave your waist. Unsure of what to do with your own, you wrap them around his neck. Good thing they sit behind him and it’s dark in the room because it would kill you for him to notice the slight tremor in your fingers. 

With a scarily racing heart and stiff, trembling body you surge forward to kiss him. His lips are quick to capture yours. Soft and pillow-like, they mold into yours in waves. What starts off as clumsy and unskilled turns into hunger. Something desperate and needy. His grip feels bruising to your hips but in a nice way. In a way you want it to hurt more. 

His nails digging further into your flesh to keep you impossibly close make your lips gasp, or maybe it’s the lack of air, or just both. And instinctively his tongue is licking its way past your lips and into your mouth. He kisses you like he’s starved for it. His wet tongue drags over yours, and your teeth, then as far as it can inside of you. He whimpers, pressing his already hard cock to you as he licks and kisses you open. 

Your stomach has never burned this way before, and you feel the hot sensation all over then down to your core that aches like it’s hungry too. You feel disgusted by yourself but can’t fight the hum you make as you devour him right back. You’re getting wetter every second he’s in your mouth. 

This time, he pulls away first. Panting for air and staring at you with glazed over dark eyes. He licks over his wet lips again, savoring the taste of you on himself. He bites down onto it and a part of you wishes it was you he sunk his teeth in. 

“Can I do what I did last time?” he breathes out, his hips involuntarily jerking up against you at the thought alone. 

While trying to act like you’re not catching your breath too, you say quietly, “do whatever you want.” 

He kisses you again but with more desperation. You try to do the same but you can feel your heart and your head preparing for battle. The way he’s feeling you up and grinding himself on you is in no way unwanted, and that’s part of the reason you’re struggling to maintain presence. 

It’s so much happening so quickly, but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t imagine this happening eventually. Sex was inevitable. The way his body yearns to be one with yours makes you feel special almost. He’s already engraved into you but in his mind he has to be inside of you and it hurts so badly how you think the same. 

But is the last thing that keeps him pure really yours to take? You’ve stripped so much away from him for all the wrong reasons before and now it feels strange. You are no good and that’s all he is. 

The only thing keeping you here, in the moment, is him. His exploratory and gentle yet rough hands, his body grinding into you, his lips that can’t leave yours or your skin for even a second, and the weak wanting sounds that leave them. 

“I need more, please. I want- I need to feel good with you. Please,” he’s whining into your ear. Then pressing kisses along your jaw and neck that are all so tender, slow, and deliberate. Large hands caress you like you’re breakable, as if not already just a body of fragmented pieces made whole and called a person. 

Your still shaking hand reaches down between your two bodies and slips past his sweats. He had the nerve to go commando and you wish you could tease him, but you can’t. You’re lucky you’re even here right now and breathing his air. Your hand wraps around his aching length and gives him a few tugs to which he’s quick to moan. He kicks off his sweatpants while you bring him closer to you. The plush of your thighs trap him; he whimpers against the soft heat of your flesh. 

Your hips grind up into him once, showing him what he should do too. He’s slow to start, rocking himself between your thighs. Slutty and hopeless sounds leave him in a string of his want. His leaking hard cock is so close to your core. Only the thin layer of your underwear keeps him from feeling your clear need for him too. 

Wrapped in each other's arms, you bury your head to his shoulder. You can feel the pulse of his aching desire rubbing and grinding against you. It makes you shiver in sensitivity and cower further into his neck. You don’t bite down onto your lip, but his neck. There’s a sting to your eyes because you hate it—the wet warmth that pools out of you. Your sin sticks to your underwear and your skin like the red raining life of all the animals you made leave the earth; your haunting subconscious correlates with your growing pleasure. 

You know you’re not religious yet every time Sunghoon touches you there’s a divinity to it and it makes your hands want to join in prayer to thank the universe for sending someone like him to you. Because his hands roam your body as if they have in every world; as if there is not one timeline where you have not been made for him. Like you were carved from his rib every time. 

Your body smolders in that angry way it always did whenever Sunghoon got too close to you. Whenever his words were too kind, his touch too gentle, or god forbid when he just smiled at you. That fire is just the divine nature of your relationship, lighting up everywhere he touches and leaving flames in the wake. You thought it was your body rejecting his purity, but you were only denying the likeness. He made you feel good. And in the most ironic way possible. You just didn’t think you deserved it. 

Yet an anguished moan leaves you, rumbling against his skin as you bite down harder. Regardless of it all, he is yours right now. 

The feeling of your sinking teeth in him, the sounds you’re now making, and the damp heat between your legs he can’t stop chasing all makes his head spin. He bites down onto you just the same and it only makes you moan louder. 

“Please,” he’s whining again through the bite. His voice a needy tremble while his hips stutter and thrust between your legs that only squeeze tighter together. The way the fat of your legs hug his raging cock through his desperate grinds makes him chase more and more for that feeling he just can’t seem to reach. The crying tip kisses and pushes up then past your leaking folds every time. It drives you both insane. 

If your body is the fiery lake of creation's deepest pit, then he is the cleanest ocean of earth’s highest point. If anyone could extinguish you, and possibly make you feel whole, it was Sunghoon. 

This is the most horrifying reality you’ve come face to face with. Not just intimacy, but a stronger driving emotion. You have to open yourself, rip open your chest and bare your beating heart in all its naked vulnerability. Let it scream out I like being with you. You have allowed this person into your world that nobody else has dared to step foot in. To see you in such ugly ways yet still extend their arms for you. It’s a terrifying level of closeness that you’ve never once experienced and you don’t know what to do with. You’re beyond perplexed by what he’s done to you, in both terror and awe.  

You pull back from Sunghoon and he pauses everything for a moment to look at you, noticing your wet eyes. Before he can ask what’s wrong you reach down and slip off your underwear. You shift your body and maneuver him as best you can until he’s on top of you. Rattled with concealed embarrassment you remove his shirt and toss it somewhere to the floor, and he does the same. 

You take a deep breath and reach back down to his cock, lining it up with your pussy. You blink and swallow away all the things trying to stop you from allowing yourself him. Pliant beneath him, you grab his shoulders and pull him down to you for a quick kiss. Foreheads now pressed together with lips ghosting over the others, you tell him, “I hate you.” 

Sunghoon only smiles down at you before kissing you once more. With his arms caged around you, he slowly pushes himself forward. The fat tip of his cock fails to go through you, only sliding up and past the wet folds. He whines feeling the warm slick coat the head; his entire body shudders. He nearly cums from that alone. 

He looks at you confused, and nod once while trying to shift your hips around for a better angle. It’s not like you to be so quiet during things like this. It only tells him that for once, you’re nervous about new things the way he was. 

So he tries again, this time a little rougher. He thrusts his hips forward, the tip pushing past the tight walls but still barely in. You whimper at the intrusion and the feeling of you being stretched open. Your hands squeeze hold onto his biceps for purchase. 

The tight sensation of your pussy squeezing his tip feels otherworldly to him. He can’t help but need to sink deeper into you. His cock pushes in further at an agonizing pace until he’s as deep as he can possibly go. His arms shake while he tries to maintain his strength and keep himself from collapsing onto you completely. The wet walls that surround him flutter and try to pull him further inside, making him feel lightheaded. His moans are so needy it’s almost like he’s crying from the feeling. 

“Oh, f-fuck!” you whimper. Having Sunghoon completely inside of you feels so full. You’re stuffed with him and it hurts so good. “You gotta move, Hoon. Feels like you’re splitting me open.”

“You're so tight, mm.” His hips stutter from your words alone and he whimpers again. He pulls himself out halfway while your gummy walls kiss around him in an attempt to suck him back to be filled again. He begins to rock himself in and out of you. It’s inexperienced and awkward, but he gets the hang of it quickly. Doing what feels best for him and what seems to be the best for you too. 

“I hate you. I fucking hate you,” you whisper harshly, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. It all burns while feeling like heaven. Never have you been so full, held so gently, or seen than this summer. You bite back the breaking moans and whimpers. You claw at his skin. You even begin to cry when your hips can’t stop chasing his thrusts. 

“I love you too,” he whispers back. A kiss is pressed to your forehead as his cock pistons you. Sunghoon is smart enough to know you’re a liar. Your mean words that used to hurt him, he now understands. You’re not really a bad person. And you don’t hate him. You were just really damaged and if he’s damned for trying to heal that then he’s fine with that too. 

“I mean it,” your body shudders, feeling his tip pound so far and deep in places inside you that you didn’t know reachable. His fat cock drags out and forces through your tight hole, making you cream all over him more and more. The sounds that leave your body, the sounds your bodies are making, it’s so obscene. Fighting off the disgust and focusing on how he makes you feel is war. It’s so hard for you to win. 

“No you don’t,” he shifts himself to sit on his knees, taking your legs and wrapping them around his waist. He leans forward and kisses both of your cheeks before fucking himself into you again, only harder and faster than before. 

“Ngh,” you moan again through broken sobs, blinking away the tears as you stare up at him. “I’m t-trying to.” 

“I know, baby.” he mumbles before capturing your wobbling lips into a searing kiss. “It’s okay, haah, don’t cry. You’re good. You’re so good for me,” he says against your wet lips. You can only sniffle and try to turn your head away from him in your embarrassment. “No, no.” he takes your chin with his thumb and finger, forcing you to look back at him. His thrusts never letting up during his care. “Look at me. You’re so good to me.” He reminds you over and over. “We’re so good together. I’m yours. you’re mine.” 

“Say it again,” you sniffle through little sounds of sin. Your hand finds a place on his cheek, and your thumb rubs over his lips that wear a smile. 

“You’re so good, good for me. We are so good together. I am yours. And you are mine,” he says softly. His eyes are so filled with love, and if you could see your reflection in his then you would know yours are too. “Say you’re good, baby, it’s okay.”

“I’m good,” you sob through your whimpers, “I’m yours.”

To Sunghoon, the idea of sex was always sacred. Something that’s only done and shared between lovers bound by marriage of the church. But now, he thinks differently. He knows that there is no shame in him loving you now or years later. And he was more than happy to make love to you all night until you believed it too. 

　Perhaps there was a thing such as divine intervention and if God’s timing was alway right, he knew how to be evil with it too. Because the next day, when Sunghoon takes you home, he’s met with your maker. 

Your mother, aware of the frequent trips you’ve been making and how close you’ve grown to the summer farmhand boy, is quick to make a call to your father the night you don’t return home. It wasn’t necessarily because she cared for your well being. You’re more than capable of handling yourself. But it was an excuse to try and get him to come back. Only it doesn’t go how she wanted.

When you see the reverend’s car parked in front of your house, your heart drops. Sunghoon picks up on your tension, He sees how you go blank at the sight and slowly turn back into the empty girl he met months ago. He tries to hold your hand but your fingers can’t move, can’t return the embrace. 

When the reverend walks out of the house with his infamous weapon of sacrificial forgiveness, you know what to do. Your body moves on its own, leaving Sunghoon to reach out for you that walks towards the woods. He goes to follow you and the desolate man that stalks behind, but your mother stops him. She’s hysterical as she drags him towards your house saying, “it’s going to be okay.” But she’s crying. 

Once out of their sight, the reverend takes you by the hair. He yanks your head around, pulling you towards that cursed tree. He’s uncharacteristically rough and your scalp screams for a release but you don’t show it. You don’t even look at the man. Not even when he’s tossing your body to the ground. 

“So you’re whoring around with my employees now, huh? Was ruining this farm not enough for you?” His words mean nothing to you. You dust off the dirt and go to stand again, but he kicks you back down. You tsk under your breath as he speaks again, “I’ve seen all the things you’ve done. Seen you leave my barns with red hands and smile. Cut heads off chickens like an anatomy project. Is he next? That church boy?” 

Now you look up to glare at him. Seeing the reverend was aggravating enough, but to say something about Sunghoon was infuriating to you. “I am not a killer. You are! And those animals were already dead.” You spit at his black leather church shoes. 

“Oh, you disgusting little devient,” he laughs lowly, untying the rope from the tree. “Your cruelty shouldn’t bring you joy. Sick and twisted, I should’ve dealt with you sooner regardless of what your drunk bitch mother protested. I can save the boy when you’re gone.” 

“What?” you shuffle backwards from him, angry and confused as he stalks closer to you until you’re backed against the tree. “All those things I did was because of you. Your righteousness made me rotten!” Your hands shake, gripping at the dirt ground for anything to make the fear stop. You glance up to the empty tree branch then the rope in his hands. Where is the lamb? You think briefly before it hits you. “You’re crazy,” you whisper, “I will not be your martyr… not now what I’m finally-”

“Condemn me to Hell for all I care,” he crouches down in front of you, “This is the last time I’ll be a killer.” He throws the rope to your lap and tells you to tether yourself. 

“Why do you hate me?” The words scratch at your throat. When you were younger, you did want the reverend to hate you. It was when he noticed you most, and it’s all you really knew. But now you’re older, and his disdain never made sense. 

You can’t bring yourself to move even if you wanted to. Was this His plan? To allow you one good thing in life before ending it? Was ruining Sunghoon your final sin? 

The rope shakes with your fingers as you stare down at it. The twine of the rope burns over the palm of your hand where Sunghoon carved his promise. Your throat feels dry, tight and suffocating; choking on everything you’ve ever done. And your eyes still puffy from the night before well with tears all over again. 

“I just do,” he thinks of slicing your neck open right there. So fuck tying you down, you were always secretly another lamb anyways. He raises his knife and the metal sits cold under your chin as he lifts your head up to look back at him. 

“Okay…” you swallow. 

Your eyes squeeze shut and so does your mouth, as you raise your head to the sky with an exposed throat. Why isn’t this easy? Unlike the animals, you do know what’s coming. And it’s scary. Scary not because of death, but because you aren’t ready. You haven’t told Sunghoon goodbye or that you love him back. And the thought of him finding something in this world to hate, is such an ugly feeling to die with. 

And then there’s a loud noise. A booming bang, followed by unsteady feet falling back and the ground rumbling with a thud. 

You open your eyes and your father is on his back clutching his abdomen. He coughs and gasps before raising his hand. It’s dripping in deep red. And you can’t help but smile with tears in your eyes as you exhale a jagged breath.

You turn your head and Sunghoon stands there with the shotgun in hand, open mouthed and wide eyed. 

“Sunghoon!” you scramble to your feet and run over to him, taking the gun from his hands as he’s frozen in shock. 

“H-he was going to- he was about to hurt you. I had to-!” he stutters, his eyes already crying and hands shaking, still feeling the weight and recoil of the gun. 

“It’s okay,” you coo softly. “Just- go back to the house and I’ll be right there, okay?” You rush out. Still in shock and dazed, he blindly trusts you and does as you say. 

When he’s no longer close by, you walk over to the reverend with a blank face. You stare down at him as he tries to crawl away, dirty and bleeding. The smile you make doesn’t reach your eyes. 

You point the gun back down at him, and place your foot over the shot wound Sunghoon created. The man gasps and tries to swat at your leg but you only press the gun further into his face, making him surrender. 

“Divine intervention, huh? Say it with me now. I know no punishment, only mercy.” Your voice is quiet, calm, and mocking of his tone. With the barrel to his forehead, you watch him writhe in pain and cough up a little blood. 

“Go to Hell,” he spits his words like venom. 

“If you say it, I’ll let you live. But if you show your face to me or Sunghoon again, I’ll shoot you right between the eyes.” Your foot presses down harder. You can feel that angry little girl inside of you jumping with joy.. Knowing his God demands to be bled for, and making him know the sacrificial suffering, well it feels good to say the least. “Say it. With me. Now.” Each word pronounced with the growing applied pressure to his shot wound. And then he begs for forgiveness. He’s never seen you smile the way you did when he was below you with those words. Empty eyes were never so alive for him either. He cries and chants ‘I know no punishment, only mercy’ over and over. It was like the most beautiful hymn.

　There wasn’t much to be said about that day. Sunghoon and you just pretend you shared a nightmare. Neither of you talked about it. It was just another thing that tied you together. 

Sitting there in the peak of summer’s heat. A day before Sunghoon returns to college classes. Birds chirp. The leaves of the tall trees thistle in the light breezes that pass by. Sunghoon sits criss crossed and while you have your feet hanging off the edge of the dock, kicking in the water. 

“I’m sorry,” you break the silence. Shocked, he looks over to you. He never would have expected you to apologize for anything. “I was selfish when I approached you. I wanted to take all that goodness out of you and keep it for myself. I thought I wanted to hurt you, but after sharing all this time with you, I realized I was wrong. It’s weird to say it out loud,” you laugh small, awkward, “but I really am sorry. I love you more than even I know.” You stare down to your feet in the water that has gone still. A tear falls from your eye, and down to your cheek. 

“I know. I love you too,” he wraps an arm around your waist. “But now the same sins bind us.” You hiccup silently and turn to look up at him. “Harvest all of my purity, farmer’s daughter.” 

For the first time, you really laugh. It’s bright and loud like the big smile he’s seeing for the first time on his favorite face. It’s morning sunlight that whispers through trees to kiss the forest floor. Birds that sing songs of hope to awake life into a new day. Nostalgic, expansive days of childhood where the concept of time doesn’t exist. To him, you look like the epitome of summer; he doesn’t want this season to end. 

You were never the lamb. Or the wolf. Not an animal at all. Nothing like the ones you grew up with. You were just a girl, scared and alone. But not anymore. Because it’s your last day on this farm, and tomorrow is the first with only Sunghoon. 

“Your humor is poetry.” you continue to laugh until tears prick your eyes all over again. You love it. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be funny.” he looks away shyly, blushing. It only makes your giggle more, but you stop to press a kiss to his cheek. He blushes harder. 

“I’ll keep doing it, harvesting all of your purity, for as long as you’re good.” you say with a smile. 

“Do you promise? I am always good, especially with you, so it could be a long while.” He bumps your shoulder playfully with a laugh. 

You take his scarred hand in yours and you laugh like he did, pure and true, “I do.”

© fangel ┊ do not copy, repost, modify or translate my content ໒꒱ tysm for reading, ⌗unlearn shame ⌇ taglist @tinycatharsis @simjaexy @leehsngs @511rkive @beomluvrr @jjongsaengzz @slvtella @jaerisdiction @kkamismom12 @rayofsunshineeee @nshmrarki @m3wkledreamy @hanjisbeloved @filmnings @stercul1a @hooniesfvngs @moriwori @sleepyhoon

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

Aj 🥹 this was such a beautiful fic to come back with

On the Roof || S.JY

stranger!jake x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), cream pie, fingering, marking and biting, sex with a stranger, weirdly fluffy, petnames (princess, baby), mentions of bad relationships with parents, alcohol, comforting, do not have sex with strangers you meet on a roof, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 9.7k synopsis: when you stumble across a boy on your apartment rooftop, you can't help but invite him to stay. a/n: hi! it's me. this is my first work back and honestly, it's not great but i just needed to get back in the swing of things so please be kind. I missed you guys a lot and the time away was exactly what i needed. thank you all for understanding, and i love you unconditionally!

The winter air tickles your senses as you push open the large, unfairly heavy door to your complex’s rooftop. It might be bitter, but it’s welcomed - your body creating unnecessary heat from both the walk up the three flights of stairs and the discomfort of your day. 

Your shift was hard, too hard. Considering it’s a brand new year, you had stupidly thought that people would be a lot nicer to public service workers, yet you were proven wrong. With countless patients’ loved ones screaming down the phone to you, doctors barking demands at you because they see you as lesser than them, and not to mention the one man who decided that spitting in your face was a rational reaction to you politely telling him that he can’t see his grandmother who was in the middle of an operation.

Safe to say, you’ve had better shifts as a hospital receptionist. 

But there was always one place you could count on to take a deep breath and reset. The rooftop. It’s quiet, overlooks the city, and helps you put into perspective that murder is not the answer to your life problems. But sometimes, God, you wish it was…

Gravel crunches beneath your feet as you make your way to the chairs you so perfectly placed underneath the solar-charged fairy lights, which hang half-arsed off the unused 1990 aerials. It’s not really how you would like to decorate the place, if you had it your way, you would have it looking reminiscent of the rooftop from Wish You, the same one you committed to memory as Lee Sang kissed In Soo for the first time. But since you’re not even supposed to have access to this part of the building, you’ll count the pathetic attempt at creating sanctuary as a win. 

The lights guide you to your seat when you see a figure hunched over, one hand holding a beer and the other holding his head. This is not what you were expecting to see. No one comes up here, not past 10pm anyway. There is one neighbour who occupies the premises when he needs a smoke without his wife knowing, but he works the night shift. So this person is new.

“Um,” you begin, clearing your throat ever so softly to alert them of your presence without giving them an acute heart attack. “Hi?”

Their head jolts up from their hand, eyes wide and face shocked. Clearly, they didn’t expect to have company tonight either. 

You focus on the figure in front of you – a boy, no older than yourself – scrutinising his features with a careful eye. As a woman, being vigilant around unfamiliar men has become second nature, an unfortunately ingrained habit of self-preservation you have mastered since before you can remember. So, your mind ticks through the usual checklist: is there a need to run? Are your shoulders getting that deep tingle that crawls up to your jaw? Is your gut making you want to vomit? None of those alarm bells ring. Instead, you’re met with something else entirely - uncertainty, maybe even sympathy.

The boy seems…fine, at least on the surface. No initial gut-wrenching unease claws at your insides. Emboldened by the absence of any red flags, you take another ginger step closer, studying him in detail.

His large, tired brown eyes peer out from behind thick-rimmed glasses, the weight of exhaustion evident. The glasses sit securely on his pretty thick nose. His lips, naturally full and a muted pink, are set in a neutral line, though the light could be softening their actual colour - it’s hard to tell beneath the hood’s shadow. Greasy, near-black hair clings to his forehead, unkempt but thick. 

His outfit doesn’t fare much better to be honest; a mishmash of layers that hints at desperation more than deliberation. Faded grey jeans hang loose and crinkled, clearly worn more than once without a wash. Over a white t-shirt sits a black hoodie, topped off with a jacket far too big for him, the kind of size that suggests it doesn’t belong to him at all. The entire image strikes you in a way that leaves concern pricking all over your chest.

Steeling yourself, you step closer again, your voice soft but firm. “Are you okay?” The question is sincere, meant to come across as a kind gesture - like when you let a cat sniff around your hand before you just go in for the pet. Your eyes meet his, offering as much warmth as you can muster. There’s something about the way he sits, cold and crumpled, that pulls at your humanity.

At first, his expression flickers, betraying something fragile beneath the surface. But it doesn’t last. In an instant, his jaw sets, and his shoulders square in a defensive shift. His cheeks hollow as his tongue presses against them, words unspoken but clearly brewing. The moment hangs in the air, heavy and awkward. 

It’s as if your simple question has poked at a bruise, tender and raw. You’ve touched something buried, and for reasons you can’t yet work out, his reaction irks you. Of all things to take issue with, why this? What on earth had he expected - for you not to ask a very valid question? Perhaps it’s the day you’ve had that’s caused the unnecessary offence on your behalf.

He averts his gaze, the connection between you severed. Instead, he tips back the beer bottle in his hand, his focus shifting to the cityscape below. The quiet glug of liquid slipping down his throat is the only response you get, and it grates against the care you offered.

A flicker of irritation sparks within you. Perhaps it’s the brush-off, or maybe it’s the contradiction in his actions. He’s sitting here in your space, looking like the embodiment of a cry for help, yet recoils at the smallest act of kindness. Still, you don’t back down. Instead, you shift your weight and tilt your head, keeping your tone neutral but unwavering.

“Fine, If you don’t want to talk, that’s sound,” you say, folding your arms against the cold. “But sitting out here, looking like the world’s chewed you up and spat you out…people are going to ask questions like ‘are you okay’ or ‘what’s the matter’. Just saying.” You huff out and follow his gaze to the city. People are having a much better day than you out there, and envy jabs at you.

For a moment, you think he’ll continue ignoring you; his shoulders remain tense, his grip on the bottle firm. But then he sighs, the sound long and weary, like air escaping a deflating balloon, one being pinched and controlled. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, a surprising Australian accent whistling through the wind.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, though the words lack conviction. His eyes remain fixed on the horizon, steadfastly avoiding yours.

“You’re a terrible liar,” you counter, letting a small, dry smile tug at your lips. “And you’re also not allowed up here.”

A tense silence follows, broken only by the chug of a train in the far distance. It’s not exactly comfortable, but neither is it unbearable. You find yourself wondering who he is and what’s brought him to this specific rooftop. 

“You can’t get up here unless you��re a tenant,” you blurt out, trying to get any morsel of information from him. You figure the quicker you find out what he’s doing here, the quicker you can find a solution for him to leave and then have your safe space back to yourself. You might have sympathy for him, clearly having a hard time of life, but so are you - and your comfort outweighs a total stranger who can’t even bother to look your way.

“Okay,” he says bored, sipping his beer again. 

“That’s your invitation to either tell me that you moved in recently, or, your queue to leave because you’re trespassing.” 

“Invitation declined.”

He is so rude, you think to yourself, though you wonder whether you should just call him out for it and at least gain some reaction for him. 

Instead, you park yourself in the seat next to him, huffing as you drop down. “Well I’m not leaving until you do,” you state matter-of-factly, attempting to not let his presence ruin your mood even further. You suppose, if he sits and shuts up, you can at least pretend he isn’t here invading your space.

Though technically, you’re invading his, but you get the idea.

The boy side-eyes you, a small, angry smirk etching onto his cold rosey face. “Yeah? Well, you’re gonna be here for a long fucking time.” He spits his words out, frustration laced within each syllable, though you can tell it’s not directed towards you. The boy is so far in his own head that you begin to realise that any discontentment he might have has less to do with you and your presence, and more to do with the reason he’s hibernating on your rooftop.

So, you sit back, and leave him be. To be honest, you’ve dealt with far worse and crabbier people today, in comparison, this boy is like rainbows and kittens.

Closing your eyes, you let the white noise of the night take over you, infiltrating all your tension and disdain towards the day, and settling you into a comfortable silence. The fairy lights above add a serene atmosphere that you crave after work, the faint lights providing some fake warmth. They were not easy to get up there, but a few falls and tangles later, you realised that all the scrapes and twirls were worth it.

The hooded boy beside you peaks over, finally taking you in as more than an inconvenience. He notices how you breathe in deep, exhaling with a sigh of relief and a cloud of warmth that combats the freezing air. 

It doesn’t take him a minute to realise that you’ve had a bad day too, and a pang of guilt hits him. He’s being unfair to you when you probably just want to relax under the night sky and here he is taking up space. 

He takes up too much space.

Reaching down at his feet, he picks up a bottle of beer from his case, the clinking not even disturbing your quest for serenity. He pokes your thigh with the bottom of the bottle, gaining your attention. When your eyes meet once again, there’s a sorrowful look on his face, the alcohol a form of apology for being an arsehole. It’s an apology you’ll gladly accept. 

“You look like you could use it,” he murmurs, offering a tight smile as he waits for you to take the brown glass bottle.

You wrap your hand around the base and lift it up in thanks. “I could use ten sambucas and a pint of tequila to wash them down,” you snort out a sarcastic chuckle, beginning to unscrew the cap. You need to thank whatever genius decided that bottle openers were too much hassle and gave people a much easier and more practical way to open a bottle of beer. You hope they’re having a good night.

The boy lets out a laugh, short but genuine, raising his own bottle to his lips. “That bad, huh?” he asks, voice muffled slightly by the glass.

“It gets like that,” you shrug, taking a long pull from the bottle, barely savouring the taste, routing around for the effects of calmness that it will bring rather than its pallet. “Comes with working in a hospital.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity momentarily overriding his gloom “Nurse?”

“Receptionist.” You correct him, hissing out as you absorb the alcohol. Beer is not your favourite taste, a Sex on the Beach is much more appealing, but you would down a tank of gasoline if it meant you could get rid of this stress.

He sucks in an empathetic breath, whistling low as he leans back against the seat. “Yeah, you need a gun, not alcohol.”

The comment catches you off guard, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, you laugh - really laugh. It bursts out of you, raw and unrestrained, carrying away the weight of the day. Life isn’t inherently awful, but it’s lonely sometimes. Working back shift in the hospital makes it hard to keep friends or any semblance of a social life. The most interaction you get that isn’t disgruntled patients or angry phone calls is on twitter with your online friends, but even then, it’s a rise-and-repeat conversation cycle of ‘for real’ and ‘same’ replies to posts you make about Jang Kyungho when no one is looking. 

Not exactly the deep human connection that people need.

So this, being able to laugh and have a bit of understanding for even a second, is comforting. It almost makes you feel bad for cursing the boy out in your head.

Smiling, you extend a hand to him, “Y/N.”

He hesitates for a fraction of a second before taking it. “Jaeyun,” he replies, offering you a smile in return. It’s faint but sincere, a crack in the armour he’s wearing so tightly.

As he grips your hand in his, you feel the ice-coldness on his skin, a clear indicator that he has been up here for quite some time. Or at least out in the open air. It only makes you more intrigued - and with him being a little slither more open with you, you decide to take the nugget and run with it.

So you talk, and talk, and talk. It feels like forever but it’s actually only two hours. Not a lot is said, but you learn some things about him; hobbies, interests, friends, his favourite TV shows and Films. All surface-level stuff, yet it feels like you’re speaking to an old friend. He learns about you too - the same stuff, with added anecdotes about working in a hospital.

But there is one thing that you are dying to know.

“So,” you begin, twisting your patio chair to face him fully, the legs scraping along the asphalt of the roof. “You can guess I’m here after a bad shift…why are you here?” Your face is expectant, waiting for an answer while you drink your beer.

But Jaeyun’s face is overcome with a flash of rage, partly due to your question, but more the fact that your question made him think about the reason he is here. Though, as quickly as his face shows agitation, it dissipates just as fast. Instead, he opts for an obtuse response. “Just wanted to enjoy the view. That’s all.”

“Couldn’t do that from your own building, no?” you tease lightly, humour softening the prodding tone. But your persistence nudges too close to something real. “Oh... did your girlfriend kick you out?” The words tumble out before you can stop them, too sharp and intrusive.

Unfortunately, it’s a habit of yours to be so nosey that it comes off inconsiderate or produces ill-timed questions. In this instance, it’s both.

His grip tightens on the neck of the bottle. The knuckles whiten, the tension visible. For a moment, he studies the label, reading the same ingredients over and over as if they hold the secret to life's greatest mystery - what happened on that fishing trip in Gavin and Stacey.

“My parents did. Yeah.” His confession is sharp, devoid of emotion

Your stomach drops. “Oh...” It’s all you manage, guilt prickling at the edges of your thoughts. You’re so stupid for poking Y/N! You inwardly scold yourself. Obviously, this issue is so much bigger than you can process. Still, your mouth will continue to flap around. 

“Yep.” He pops the p with bitter precision, his tone teetering on the edge of sarcasm. “Apparently, I need to ‘get my act together.’” He says with accompanying quotation marks from his fingers.

“As in?”

“As in I need to be their perfect little boy and follow in my brother’s footsteps - be a lawyer.” The words fall flat, heavy with resentment.

Nodding along, the pieces form enough for you to make your own solid conclusions. “And I guess you don’t want that?”

“Fuck no.” Jaeyun scoffs out a bitter laugh. “I’m more likely to need a lawyer than be one.”

“Ohhh a bad boy huh?” you wiggle your brows, trying to interject some semblance of humour into the moment while sussing him out, to lighten his load even just a smidge. You can’t begin to imagine what his parents said or did to him once he rejected their concept of a perfect life, and you don’t really want him to dwell on it right now either.

He laughs despite himself, a quiet sound that momentarily lightens his expression. “Maybe.” It’s a noncommittal answer, but he seems content to let you spin your own version of events.

Honestly, he is not bad in any shape or form. But when he says he would need a lawyer rather than being one, he means that that career is so absurd that even a goody too shoes like him is more likely to get in trouble before he stands in a suit.

He just wants to live his life without this great expectation, without people demanding he ‘do better’ when he knows he is doing just fine; he’s in a great University, studying music and production, and has a decent part-time job at the record store, which isn’t loads of money, but enough for him to pay his mum and dad digs and still have a life outside their constraints. He’s doing fine, or so he believes.

But fine isn’t enough for his parents. Their love towards their own son is tied to the weight of their expectations, ones he can’t - or won’t - carry.

“So they just…kicked you out?” you ask carefully, noting the sorrow in his features as he turns the events of the past few months in his head. Sympathy creeps back into your chest, any lingering annoyance dissipating along with the last sips of your beer.

“Yeah,” he confirms, sighing and shrugging. “It’s fine.”

“Are you staying with friends or…” You don’t finish the question because you’re scared of the answer; the dishevelled clothes and hair are enough to semi-confirm.

Jaeyun looks up, his gaze catching the glimmer of the fairy lights, their soft glow reflected in his dark irises. “I was, until a few days ago. You can only couch-hop for so long before people start to feel like you’re intruding.”

He holds no malice towards his friends, no bitterness in his tone, and honestly, his best friend Sunghoon said he could stay for as long as it took him to save up for an apartment of his own. But he doesn’t want to take advantage of his kindness, the boy already doing more for him than most would have. Even Jay, his other friend, offered to loan him the money for the first month's rent on a flat uptown. 

But Jaeyun’s pride wouldn’t allow him to take advantage of their kindness. He would manage on his own, no matter how hard it got.

Seeing the pity in your eyes, he waves his hand to brush off your concern. “It’s fine, I’ve scraped up enough money to get rent now. I just need to find a place,” he smiles softly, appreciative of your sympathy even if he doesn’t want it. “I’ll be fine. I’m going looking tomorrow.”

There’s a sense of relief that his words bring you. Although his predicament isn’t ideal right now, it looks like it could be on the turnaround, and for that, you’re thankful.

“If it’s only for one night, do you want my couch?” The offer spills out before you can stop it, surprising even yourself.

Jaeyun laughs heartedly, eyebrows knitting in disbelief and amusement. “You’re fucking stupid.”

“Huh?!” you exclaim in shock. It’s not really the response you were expecting. A yes? Sure. A no? Absolutely. But an insult to punctuate your act of kindness was a curveball.

Sitting up straight, he places his beer on the ground, an amused smile softening his features. “I’m a random man you’ve known for a couple of hours. I could do anything to you in your own home, and you don’t seem the slightest bit worried about that.”

Okay, maybe he has a massive point. You don’t know him and he could literally attack you at any moment. And considering earlier you had to assess him before approaching, it shows that you do have the common sense not to let him stay with you.

But he poses no threat, none whatsoever. He’s just a boy in a fucked up situation, and your kind heart can’t see him freeze; god knows how many nights he’s been out. He’s already reminiscent of Jack Dawson turning into a block of iced body parts.

“Well, you won’t right?” You throw the question back to him. “I mean, to be honest, I’ve let men in my bed for a lot less than a tiny conversation and a beer.” 

As soon as the words tumble out of your mouth, your cheeks flush to match his cold ones, neck tingling in embarrassment. You’ve just confessed that your standards are abysmally low - you’ve slept with men who didn’t even have the decency to buy you a drink nevermind learn your name.

Jaeyun stifles a laugh, rubbing at his eye. “For your pride, I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” The smile on his face is so beautiful that you’re caught off guard a little. Now you wish he was one of the men you let roll around on top of you for a compliment and a ride home.

His expression shifts, returning to a more serious note, though the smile lingers. “Seriously, Y/N. Thank you for the offer, but I only have” - he glances at his watch - “six hours before sunrise anyway.”

“Seriously, it’s no trouble-”

“I’m serious too,” he interrupts gently, slouching back into his seat. “You should go in. It’s cold, and after the day you’ve had, you need sleep.”

“I-”

“Y/N.” His tone is firm but not unkind. “I’m fine. Go. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

His refusal stings in a strange way, the rejection of your kindness more personal than it should feel. But you know better than to argue with someone so resolute. It never ends well. So, with a resigned nod, you down the last of your beer and stand.

“Okay,” you reply, setting the empty bottle aside. “I’m in 4A if you change your mind. I can grab some blankets? Pillows?”

Jaeyun places a hand over his heart, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. But I promise I’ll survive.”

And so, you leave him there, your heart tugging at you to insist, to argue, to make him take shelter in your tiny flat. But your feet keep moving, respecting his wishes.

As you reach the door, you glance back one last time, the words caught in your throat. You just hope he’ll be okay.

_____

The rain lashes, jolting you awake. It’s not the pretty white noise rain that you enjoy, it sounds like hundreds of tiny little pebbles being pelted at your window. Strange. It was forecast as clear skies until at least Tuesday. 

You blink groggily, groaning at the interruption. You can’t have been asleep for more than two hours - if that. Begrudged, you turn your back to the outside, shielding yourself from the rain that cannot attack you. Yet, an unsettling feeling stews in the bottom of your stomach, the kind that makes your heart beat faster and your mouth gain moisture.

It’s not uncommon for you to have random spouts of anxiety, all your life you’ve suffered from it, but this isn’t your typical ‘my brain is going to bring up that one time I peed myself in primary 2 and had to be sent home’ anxiety. This is something more.

Fuck.

Jaeyun.

The thought hits you like a bolt of lightning and your body moves before your mind can catch up. You fling off your pastel pink duvet, slide your feet into your beloved fuzzy slippers, and throw on a housecoat to cover your half-naked form. If you had the right mindset and not half asleep and half in panic, you would have grabbed a rain jacket and some trainers instead.

Thought, without thinking about your own state, the chilly air cuts at your skin as you make your way to the roof. The rain, now mixed with hail, pelts down hard, each sting enhancing your concern. Your eyes roam around near the seated area, one of your hands shielding your eyes from the brutal hailstones, each one nipping your hand in anger. 

"Jaeyun?" you shout, your voice cutting through the storm, only to be drowned out by the constant rain. You get closer to the seats and see nothing. Panic overwhelms you, hot and stifling. "Are you still here?"

As you spin around, your eyes finally land on him. He’s slumped up against the rooftop enclosure which acts as a headboard to an uncomfortable concrete bed. His jacket and hoodie are doing as much to protect him as a candyfloss blanket, each soaked through and clinging to his skin. How can he sleep like this? It makes you wonder if he lied about just how long he had stopped couch-crashing and living out in the open.

Quickly, you drop to your knees beside him, ignoring the puddle that entrenchs your legs, and place your hand on his shoulder as you shake him awake. “Jaeyun?” you bellow, loud enough for him to startle awake and instantly put a guard up.

“Huh?” he mumbles, voice thick with confusion.

“Come on, I’m not leaving you up here,” you inform. This time, it isn’t a question but a demand. You have too much compassion to willingly leave him up here any longer.

Jaeyun’s eyes squint through his water-splattered glasses as he takes in your figure. “Y/N? What the fuck are you doing? You’re soaked,” he states the obvious, yet oblivious to his own state. “Go back inside.”

“Not without you,” you fire back. “Grab your things.”

“But-”

“Either that or I stay up here with you,” you cut him off, voice firm though only kindness shines through.

You can see the conflict in his face, his concern for your drenched state outweighing his stubbornness. He sighs, defeated, and finally nods. “Fine.”

If there is one thing Jaeyun hates to be is a burden, but it seems no matter what happens, he will inconvenience you in some way - might as well choose the drier option.

Standing upright, you extend a hand, offering him some help up, but he refuses. Instead, he grabs the duffle beside him and clumsily gets up, following you down and into your apartment.

As soon as he walks into the warmth, his bones leap with excitement and his shoulders relax in contentment. You flick on the lights which allows him a better view of your personal space. And it is exactly how he imagined it.

Your walls are covered in art and photos of you and your friends, lyric posters from bands he has never even heard of, and a shrine to TO1 in the corner. It’s cosy, lived in, and he feels a massive pang of envy. 

“You can use my shower,” you say while subconsciously tidying up, removing the cups and wine glasses that have piled on the coffee table. “Luckily for you, I like wearing guy’s clothes on my period so I’ll see what I can find to fit you.”

“Seriously, Y/N. I’ll just, dry off with a towel or something, No Stress.” He doesn’t like the fuss but he can’t deny he doesn’t feel a little fuzzy as you make space for him. 

Scoffing, you turn around with a perplexed look on your face. “A towel? Jaeyun, you’re soaked to the bone. You need a shower and then you can have a towel, okay?” 

A grateful grin adorns the boy’s face as he takes his shoes off. “Okay. Thank you, Y/N. Seriously.” Jaeyun nods, clutching his damp duffle as he trudges towards the bathroom. 

You point out the way, adding a quick, “Towels are on the rack, and there’s shampoo, soap, and more in there. Just use whatever you need, okay?” 

With another muttered thank you, he waddles to your bathroom, suddenly enthralled with how the night has panned out. It’s been a while since he had a decent shower, and the ones in the Uni’s lockeroom are made more for a quick wash down than a deep cleanse.

As he disappears into the bathroom, you let out a sigh, glancing around your apartment. It isn’t a mess by your standards, but you suddenly feel self-conscious about the clutter. Usually, when people are up, it’s those who are either only making their way to your bedroom or those who do not care and have known you long enough to understand that you like a bit of mess.

A messy home is a home loved.

The sound of running water echoes from the bathroom, and you take the moment to rummage through your wardrobe. You pull out a pair of joggies and an oversized hoodie that has seen you coming every cycle for the past three years. You can’t get much more comfort than these. They’ll be a bit loose on his slim frame, but they’re warm and dry.

Speaking of which, you glance down at your own rain-soaked state, grimacing. The slippers squelch faintly with each step, and the damp housecoat clings unpleasantly to your skin. Without hesitation, you pull out a baggy t-shirt and some old pyjama shorts, slipping into them after quickly drying off your hair with a towel that’s close by. It’s not inherently clean, but it serves its purpose, so that’s good for now.

Satisfied, you place the clothes Jaeyun will borrow on the sofa before heading to the kitchen. The kettle hums to life as the storm outside continues its symphony, the hail getting more dangerous and cutthroat. A hot cup of tea feels like just the thing to chase away the chill, after all, there’s little problems in life that a good cuppa can’t fix.

Just as you reach for the tea bags, the creak of the bathroom door pulls your attention.

Jaeyun steps out, his damp hair falling messily over his forehead, droplets of water glistening on his skin. A towel sits promiscuously low on his hips, and despite yourself, your gaze trails downward. The delicate silver chain around his neck catches the light, the cross pendant resting at eye level with his pretty brown nipples. Your eyes wander further, taking in the faint definition of his toned abs, the subtle dip hinting at a v-line. And his cock is outlined perfectly to give you an idea of his size and width but you can tell it still doesn’t do him justice. 

You realise with a jolt that your mouth is slightly open, and the train of your thoughts is taking a decidedly inappropriate detour. Heat rushes to your cheeks as your mind conjures up scenarios you’d never admit aloud. A pang of guilt follows swiftly - this boy has been through hell, and he’s come to you for solace, not to be gawked at.

“Sorry,” Jaeyun says, breaking the spell. His voice is soft, a mix of embarrassment and strange pride, as he catches your lingering stare. “I’ll get dressed. I just…didn’t know where the clothes were.”

“Oh!” You clear your throat and nod toward the sofa, purposefully keeping your gaze above his shoulders. “Yep, just there. Help yourself. I think they’ll fit.”

As he moves to retrieve the clothes, you busy yourself with literally anything else - studying the ceiling, adjusting the kettle, anything to avoid the moment and stop trying to catch glimpses of his cock. 

You don’t hear the rustling of clothes though, instead, you just hear yourself breathing, which piques your interest. Why isn’t he changing?

Subtly, your eyes glance over to him and then you see it, the look on his face as he stares at the clothes. You’ve had that look before too, the one that comes with the mixed feelings of disbelief, shame, sadness, hope, and every other conflicting emotion that arises when you’re down and out.

“Thanks,” he whispers, “For all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you reply, taking a few small steps forward. But Jaeyun shakes his head, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“No, really,” he insists. “I…I don’t think I’ve met someone as kind as you in a long time.” His voice breaks on the last word, and he quickly looks away, ashamed of the vulnerability slipping through. 

He has his friends, they are kind and generous much like yourself, but being kicked out of his own family has also shown him the darkest parts of humanity, the ones that he doesn’t let others know that he’s experienced. Truthfully, he’s just a scared boy who needs his family. 

The admission punches through your chest, leaving no room for hesitation. You glide over to him as your arms wrap gently around his shoulders. 

If a cuppa can fix most things, a hug can fix them all.

At first, he stiffens, unsure how to respond, but then he relaxes, his head lowering slightly against you.

“It’s okay,” you murmur softly. “You’re going to be okay. Maybe not right now, but soon.”

Jaeyun’s arms tentatively come up to return the embrace, and for a moment, the storm outside fades into irrelevance. His eyes close and for a change, he believes that it will be fine. This moment isn’t going to last forever, once the morning blooms, he’ll be out of your life and trying to get back on his feet, but he’s thankful for the reassurance and hope right now.

Pulling back slightly, his arms still lingering around you. His eyes, uncertain and yearning, flicker between your face and your lips. Then, without a second thought, he leans in and presses his lips to yours - a fleeting, hesitant kiss that seems to catch even him off guard. 

His lips retract from yours as he draws back, his face flushed with embarrassment and horror. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. Why the fuck would he kiss you without consent when you’ve been so kind towards him? He thinks. His hand twitches at his side, as though unsure whether to retreat or reach out again. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Would it make you feel better?” you interrupt gently, your voice soft but steady.

His brows furrow, confusion flickering across his features. “What?”

“Would it make you feel better?” you repeat, tilting your head slightly. There’s no judgment in your tone, no hesitation. “To kiss me?”

“Really, no, it’s okay-”

This time, you close the distance, your lips capturing his before he can finish the sentence. It’s slow, deliberate, a kiss that tells him you’re here for him despite still being strangers. His initial surprise melts into something deeper, something warmer, as he responds cautiously at first, then with more certainty.

It actually is making him feel better, the human connection, it’s nature's balm.

So he follows your lead, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you impossibly close as his hands splay over your back, covering most of the surface. The way his plump lips move against yours is magnetic, sucking and pulling you into his world. You’ve been kissed more times than you can count - shamelessly to say - but his mouth feels a little different; a little less icky than the others and a lot more like they’re meant to be on yours.

With that feeling charging your bloodstream, your hands fly up to his damp hair, craving to have him on each of your senses. You can’t get enough of him, his taste of beer from the numerous bottles he downed on the roof, the touch of his silky locks that are in need of a haircut, his scent of your strawberry milk body wash mixing in with his own musk, how he sounds when he growls into your mouth, showcasing that he’s just as desperate as you are for this. 

You need him…

Swiftly, your hands trail from his head, down his neck, your nails lightly scratching down his collarbones until you reach the veins just above where you were unabashedly looking not 10 minutes ago. 

Jaeyun pushes your ass against the sofa, bucking up into you, hips deliciously working to place your hand on his cock. God, it feels beautiful, even with the fluffy barrier. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans deeply into your mouth, passing the need from himself into you. Your hand grips his covered shaft as you palm him teasingly. “Don’t do this if you don’t want to.” 

Honestly, he doesn’t want to say anything that will make this stop, his body pulsing with the desire to have you wrapped around him. But he also believes in consent, and while you both might be horny-induced 22-year-olds, you’re also strangers. 

Shaking your head adamantly, you grip his dick harder, smiling at the whimper it draws from him. “I want this, Jaeyun.”

“I suppose, men have been in your bed for a lot less, right?” he chuckles into your mouth. And while it could come across as an insult to some -  that he’s essentially throwing back your own slut-shaming dialogue from earlier -  you feel no degradation or malice behind his words. You can tell he’s playful, under all the dreary circumstances. He’s a boy who has light and laughter built into his DNA. 

Maybe it’s delusion, maybe it’s a soul connection, or maybe it’s the fact that you need to bounce on his cock within the next five minutes or you’ll perish that’s clouding your judgment. 

Either one, you let it slide.

So, playfully, you slap his chest and break the kiss. “Keep talking and you won’t get the chance to see my bedroom.”

“That’s okay, I can fuck you here,” he replies quick-witted, suddenly hoisting you up on the back of the couch, the wood and material digging into your ass not uncomfortably. 

You laugh and so does he, looking into each other’s eyes, and it all feels so right. 

Bringing your hand up to his face, you push his hair off of his forehead and reveal his eyes - the light from your living room dancing in his pupils, much like how they had been on the rooftop, but this time, there is an abundance of happiness that adds to the shine. 

“You’re so pretty,” you confess, that no-filter brain coming into full effect once again. Granted, a much better consequence of it. 

A faint, rose blush crawls across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose, a bashful grin on his mouth. “Thank you. Personally, I think you’re prettier so…”

“Guess we can be pretty together, huh?”

“Pretty good together you mean?” 

Another laugh jumps out of you and you cup both his cheeks, the warmth of them comforting and worth cherishing. You peck his nose. “I should have known a pretty boy like you would be a charmer.”

He shrugs, kissing your nose back, not bothering to rebut. Instead, his hands guide your legs to wrap around him, hands finding your ass, and he lifts you up. You can’t ignore his cock now semi-hard pressing into you as he bounces you into a comfortable position.

Securing yourself, you circle your arms across his shoulders and kiss him once again, letting him lead you down your hallway, anticipation and greed passing through your breaths and tongues. 

“Which one?” he pants out, squeezing your ass as he does so.

“This one on the right,” you point half-arsed, too lost in the moment to give it a full thought. 

Awkwardly due to your wriggling body, Jaeyun opens the door, trying to view a path to which he can reach your bed without falling over your clutter. Shoes and more lay abandoned over your carpet, creating an obstacle, but one he refuses to lose. 

Jaeyun finally reaches your queen-sized bed and gently places you down, his cock pressing into you even more. 

It’s only then that he realises that along the way from your living room to your bedroom, his towel has fallen down, leaving his exposed cock rubbing against the fabric of shorts. “Jesus fucking christ.”

You look at him and see the pleasure on his face, biting his lips as his eyebrows knit together, rubbing against you again. It makes you giggle, you don’t know why, but he just brings it out of you.

The sound from your lips draws his attention back. “What?” he breathes out heavily, cock thumping with need as he humps you again.

“Maybe you should be inside of me while you thrust - kinda how this whole sex thing works,” you playfully jab, biting your lips together to stop from laughing. But he laughs for you, resting his forehead on your chest and shaking his head in amusement.

“Shut up, I’m just excited.”

“I can see that, yeah.”

It’s easy with him, you’re noticing, like you’ve somehow been in a relationship for years and you’ve just come home from a couples date with your married friends, two bottles of red wine consumed, and adoration palpable in the air. You have two dogs, maybe three if you can get your way, and you are the annoying pair that people hate to hang out with because your love for one another never dwindled, not even after all those years.

Maybe you shouldn’t be fantasising about a life with this random man you met on a roof, but that’s where your brain immediately goes each time you banter or giggle with one another.

He’s different.

Jaeyun stands up, letting you see his cock as he pumps it gently, getting it to full mass. The fact that it’s standing at 5 inches already and still growing causes an ache in your stomach. Fuck, it’s going to feel so good inside of you, your walls are already leaking out for it, staining your pyjama shorts. 

His hands grip your shorts and peel them off, hurriedly throwing them on the floor, only adding to the chaos. Your legs instinctively spread and the juices from your excitement gleam in the moonlight, looking like a ripe fruit just ready to be devoured.

And devoured it will be.

Hoisting you down, Jaeyun positions you at the end of the bed until your ass is almost hanging off, kneeling down between your thighs. Not exactly how you thought the turn of events was going, but you are the furthest from mad at it.

“You look so fucking delicious, Y/N.” Jaeyun’s comment makes you feel exposed but not in a bad way, yet, you still want to hide from him. As your legs try to close, he places his large hands on your thighs, shaking his head. “No, princess, the only way you're shutting your legs right now is if you’re clamping my head between them.”

“Jaeyun…” you whine, both at the petname and his breath ghosting over your hardened clit, making it weep again - much to Jaeyun’s delight.

“I know, princess. You need it, huh?” Jaeyun whispers, kissing up your inner thigh and around the area you crave him most. 

The heat in the room is electric, any cold you both felt from the rain now disappeared from your bones and replaced with scorching intensity. Your hips follow the blow of his breath in search of connection but he simply places a chaste kiss on your clit before pulling away, a smirk on his face as he sees you whimper and squeak.

“You make the prettiest noises when you’re desperate, Y/N,” he gloats, though it’s prideful and not arrogant. He means it, and that’s why he keeps teasing you softly, puckering at your folds and giving you just enough to have you humping the air and arching into him.

“I’m never letting you use my shower again,” you laugh in discontentment, your arm flying across your face as you hide in the comfort of your bicep. 

Jaeyun huffs a laugh, echoing your own amusement before he speaks. “I know, I’m being so mean considering you’ve been so kind, huh? You’re just so cute when you’re like this.”

“I’m about to become a bitch if you don’t do something,” you warn lightly, peaking down to look at him under your arm.

“Well, I better get to it then right?”

And with that, his thick tongue stripes up your folds, gathering and savouring your wetness. Your back arches off the bed and pushes just enough onto him that his nose catches your clit. “Fuck!” you bellow. 

The tip of his tongue searches for your nub, and once it hits the spot and your hands fly to his hair, his lips suction around it, almost making out with it. 

He’s not real you think to yourself. You can’t help the jealousy that rises inside of you as your brain works overtime to imagine just how many girls he has had to go down on for him to be this good at eating you out. If there was ever such a thing as a pussy eating contest, you know he would win hands down because he’s already got you chanting his name, punctuated by profanities. 

“Right there, Jaeyun…fuck…” 

His pride swells and he grows more confident, tongue flicking quickly over your button as he drools over your cunt. It’s safe to say that Jaeyun loves pussy. If he could have it morning, noon, and night, and elevensies, he would without hesitation. Especially yours. The taste of your tang and sweetness is enough to put him in a frenzy, long forgetting about his aching cock and focusing solely on drinking you up.  

He humps the air though, as he always does, resembling a dog in heat as he slabbers and grunts into your cunt. He nibbles at your clit and soothes it with his wet muscle, a smile plastered on his face with each movement - your noises urging him on.

He brings his middle and ring finger to your pulsating hole as it clenches around nothing, deciding to give you some more relief. As he plunges in, you scream out in joy, an open-mouthed smile on your face as coherent words get lost in your throat. You clearly don’t get eaten out as often as you deserve, and that just spurs Jaeyun on more to be the best you’ve ever had.

“So wet for me, princess. Taste so fucking good I want to be here for hours.”

And while that sounds nice in theory, you need him inside of you now. His fingers, thick and beautiful, are nice for now, but that 6-inch, throbbing cock is calling your name. So, you pull him away much to your pussy’s weeping plea for him to keep going, his mouth covered in your slick which is perhaps the most beautiful sight you have ever seen -  and you’ve seen the Northern Lights on a crisp autumn morning. 

His fingers never stop though, just curling inside of you slowly, beckoning your climax still. “What’s wrong?” he asks, concern weaving in his tone.

Sitting up on your elbows, you smile and pant, trying to maintain a steady voice while the tip of his fingers presses against your soft spot inside, jaw slacking each time he holds it for a little longer. “I need your cock so back, Jaeyun. I’m so serious.” The words are desperate and real, shamelessly desperate. 

“You sure you don’t want to cum right now? I can do it.” It’s not like he can’t make you cum over and over again anyway. 

Shaking your head, you sit up, hunching over to cup his face. “Please. I really need you to fuck me.”

A primal desire flickers past Jaeyun’s eyes and a quick nod tells you that he needs it too. His cock jumping for joy at the thought of being enveloped in your tight cunt. So, he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, pulling on a show as his tongue weaves through his digits, wide eyes looking up at you with sheer longing. It stirs something inside of you, something that suddenly makes you want to grow a cock and have him choke on it. 

But you quickly shake those thoughts, pulling him up by his hair and kissing him deeply. His tongue now tastes of you and you are so glad you love sweet juices and decided that for the past three weeks, cranberry spritz has been your favourite. 

Jaeyun makes quick hands of stripping you of your t-shirt, leaving you both naked and clawing at one another. 

“You got condoms?” he asks between kisses, trailing down your neck as his hands grip your hips so tightly that the skin turns white. 

But you don’t want that. You want to feel him. Raw and unfiltered. Is it stupid? Of course, it is. But some would say letting him inside your home never mind inside your body is already wreckless, so, what’s another reckless abandonment on your list tonight?

“No. No condom, please,” you mumble against his hair as you kiss the top of his head, your conditioner filling your senses.

Jaeyun freezes his mouth and darts up, eyes seeking yours to make sure he heard you right. “Huh?”

“No condom. I’m on the pill,” you stroke his cheek tenderly, “Please, Jaeyun. Do this with me just once, yeah?”

For some reason, that ‘just once’ pangs in the boy’s chest and he hates the feeling more than anything. He doesn’t want this to be once, he wants this to be again, and again, and then some more. Jaeyun isn’t one to believe in fate but considering he chose your flat complex rooftop out of all the others in the city, and it decided to pour down - even though it’s been dry for the past two weeks - which led to you coming to get him and practically drag him into your home; he would say that doesn’t happen by chance. 

Although, instead of getting in his head, he agrees, lust overpowering his responsibility to be safe. “I want it too, so fucking badly,” he leans down, rubbing his leaking cock on your slit, mouth moving to your ear. “I can’t wait to cum inside you, fill you up and make you suck me in.”

Does he know where this confidence came from? Perhaps it was the way you whispered into the air his name over and over again how good you felt while he ate your pretty little cunt, or maybe it's the fact that if this is your only time under him, he will damn make sure you’re thinking about him for the rest of your life.

The heels of your feet move with his ass as he gyrates his hips, allowing his cock to snag on your clit and elicit a hiss from both of you. Your lips messily leave open-mouth kisses over any skin that you can reach; his neck, cheek, lips, forehead, all of it, the feeling of his glistening skin on your lips addicting.

“Please, Jaeyun. Fuck me. Right. Now.”

Your pleading snaps him into full throttle, his hand guiding his cock to your entrance, his bell expanding and contracting as he slips inside of you. Your groans of pleasure harmonise in the winter night, both your bodies connecting fully as he bottoms out slowly, balls meeting your ass as he pushes in to the hilt.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck, and you lock him in there, fisting his hair and bucking your hips for friction. He fills you up so good you wonder why humans are born empty and not with a permanent cock up their pussy. 

You never want him to leave.

“Move, Yunnie, please.” The tone of your voice doesn’t carry much conviction but portrays your desperation for him. The nickname falling off your cock-drunk tongue much to his happiness. If anyone ever calls him Yunnie again, and it overtakes the way you whimper it out, he will commit murder. Only you can call him that, call him whatever you want, call him by his name, ever again.

Obeying your wishes, he begins to pull back his hips and move them painfully slow back into you, feeling each bump of your walls and how they meld perfectly with the veins of his fat cock. 

While he loves savouring the moment of you taking him in, feeling how your hole adapts to his girth and length, creating way just for him. “Faster, Yunnie. God, please.”

“Asking God to help get what you want is crazy considering it’s me you should be begging,” he chuckles, never increasing his pace. 

“Shut up, please,” you whine out, grabbing his ass and trying to physically move him to speed up.  

“You can ask me to shut up but not beg me to move faster?” he tuts, going even slower, “C’mon, princess. Ask me nicely.”

You want to slap him, a dry laugh coming from your throat as you fight between your pride - telling you never to do as a man says - and your need for him to start jackhammering into you. 

Well, you suppose you can let your pride have a night off for a chance.

“Jaeyun, please, move faster. I’m begging you. Fuck me faster and harder.”

Those sweet yet filthy words send Jaeyun into orbit, and he grants your prayers. With his hands pushing down your hips, he begins to thrust with ferocity, the tip of his cock not punching into your cervix. It’s much more delicious than you ever could have imagined, the way he snaps into your cunt with no restraint, your pussy taking a beating in the best way possible. 

This is heaven.

“Yes, Jaeyun! Yes! Don’t fucking stop, please.” 

And stop he does not. In fact, he lifts your legs over his shoulders and folds you in half, the new angle somehow reaching so deep you can feel him poking your stomach. You have never felt this good in your life. A cock has never made your brain turn to mush or made your hands literally peel the skin from your partner’s back before, yet here you are, chanting incoherent words into his ear and clawing up his shoulder blades.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, princess. Taking my cock so well.” Jaeyun breathes into your neck, nipping at your skin and he marks you right back. His praise makes you smile, kissing all over his face in appreciation for the pleasure he is giving you right now. “Such a good girl, Y/N.”

You could cum that minute, and he feels how you clench around him, sucking him in further, making him tip his head back and move even faster. He wants you to cum together, and with how good your pussy feels, he isn’t far from it.

“You sure you want me to cum inside?” he asks again, trying to gauge whether you could have changed your mind. But you grip his hair and stare into his eyes. 

“If you don’t, I’ll kick you out back into the rain.”

Jaeyun laughs. Hard. Your threat is meaningless because you clearly would never leave him out there again to drown in the winter hail, but it does get your point across. You don’t just want his cum, you need it. And luckily for you, he is happy to oblige. 

So, with your consent, he works on getting you both to the edge, his right hand coming down to your clit and rubbing it in smooth circles, a juxtaposition to his harsh thrusts. And you begin to see stars, constellations, as you arch your back and wriggle under him. The coil in your tummy burns with the insatiable pull. 

“I’m cumming! Yunnie, I’m cumming,” you warn, happiness filtering the air as you buck your hips and match the rhythm of his shaft penetrating you. “Cum with me. Please, baby.”

Baby

His balls tighten at the petname and groans loudly. “Call me that again.”

“Baby, cum inside me,” you repeat within a moan, forcing your eyes open to lock onto his. “Cum with me.”

And just like that, with the final clench of your walls around him, he spurts his white seed inside of you, a primal roar escaping his lips as each rope coats your canal. You cum with him, his name falling from your lips over and over again as you chant out in hymn. 

“Squeeze it, princess. Take it all like you want.” He validates you without ridicule, a grin of glee etching onto his face as his body shakes with the euphoria he feels. You were right, cumming inside of you is much better than a condom.

After a while, both your hearts begin to slow down and his body collapses onto yours. His lips lazily kiss your sweaty skin on the top of your breast, your fingers threading through his now dry hair, the only wetness coming from persperation. Its intimate, despite the newness of the situation, and you can’t help but plaster a smile on your face.

It feels so right.

And you’re not the only one who believes so.

Jaeyun gathers some strength to lean on his arm, cupping your face as he strokes your cheek. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” His voice is wavering due to exhaustion, but it’s overshadowed by sincerity. 

Placing your hand over his, you titter slightly, the sound making Jaeyun’s stomach knot and cock pulse inside you once again. “You mean having sex or staying in my house and abusing my shower privileges?”

“Both.” He murmurs earnestly, pinching your cheek. “I also want you to abuse my shower…when I get one.” The last part of that sentence falters slightly, his voice dipping as if suddenly comping back into his reality.

But you won’t let him dwell in it. Instead, you reach up to kiss him gently, lips expressing the reassurance you worry your words might not. And it seems to do the trick because, in an instant, he’s kissing you back with passion, taking each swipe of your tongue against his as confirmation that you want to have this again and see where it goes. 

It could lead to nothing but it could lead to everything.

And he needs to find out.

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

I wanna slap him 😡 but I wanna kiss him 😽 I’m conflicted but that’s how you know the fic is good

BAJA BLAST - S.JY

pairing. religious stepbro!jake x fem reader genre. drabble, porn w plot warnings. virgin perv jake, stepcest, religious themes, brief mention of alcoholism & death word count. 3.5k smut tags. degradation, dry humping (i guess…), handjob, jake sucks reader’s tits thru her shirt, p in v for like 30 seconds.

a/n. hmm trying to get into darker themes to expand my genres a bit more … not too sure how i feel abt it yet but it was interesting to explore a new trope! i understand darker tropes aren’t for everyone sooo feel free to skip over if this isn’t for you!! <3

———

“You’re disgusting, and you’re not gonna find a God-fearing husband if you keep parading yourself like a slut.”

Jake pries your legs open a little wider, further situating himself between your thighs as he smears his precum on the core of your panties. He glances up at you when you scoff, knees digging into the mattress as he drags the tip of his cock along your clothed cunt. “What?” he sneers, raising a brow at you.

“You have a girlfriend and you’re getting yourself off between someone else’s legs; you’re the slut,” Jake’s cock twitches in the palm of his hand at your insult, you take a mental note of this, “and, I don’t even want a God-fearing husband, whatever that is.”

“It means a religious husband, genius. None of them probably want you anyway, so the feeling is mutual.”

Degrading as it may be, this is the shit that gets Jake off; certainly not his prude, preacher’s daughter girlfriend who only allows him to kiss her for a few seconds at a time, because anything longer than that could be “too tempting”.

He didn’t hate Chaeyoung in the slightest, but he likely wouldn’t have made all that effort to court her had he known she was saving herself for marriage in every aspect. No lingering touches, no suggestive comments, and certainly no racy photos; the poor boy would’ve been fine with her sitting on his lap every now and then if it meant he’d get to jerk off from the weight of someone on top of him.

Much like Chaeyoung, Jake was on the treacherous path of saving himself for marriage, but even he allowed himself a bit of wiggle room. Saving himself entirely for marriage was beyond unrealistic, but he was willing to at least avoid shoving his dick in someone before there was a ring on his finger if it meant he could get off in other ways.

Jake didn’t have the heart to break up with Chaeyoung just because she wanted to stay pure until marriage, but he wasn’t planning on waiting that long to finally get his dick wet. Besides, breaking up with the preacher’s daughter for seemingly no reason was a bad look, especially considering that Jake was the youth pastor at the same exact church.

Aside from the pastor and his wife, Jake and Chaeyoung were the only couple treated as royalty in their church community. They were seen as devoted followers of Christ whilst showcasing what an appropriate, God-fearing, young, Christian couple should look like. From the outside looking in (or even just looking from his girlfriend’s perspective), they truly did resemble a perfect couple.

How Jake got into jerking off between his step-sister’s thighs was a long story.

His original plan was to keep his distance when he first met you a little over a year ago, a few months before his father was preparing to marry your mother. Jake didn’t take kindly to you at first, bewildered on how such a respectful, faith-driven woman such as your mother could produce a daughter the exact opposite of her. Your outfits were entirely too skimpy, you had a horrible attitude, and you had tattoos. In Jake’s eyes, you were the definition of sin.

And that’s exactly why he felt disgusted with himself when he realized he was desperately attracted to you.

It was horrible, the countless nights he’d spent jerking himself off to the thought of you sinking down on his cock and riding him until he passed out. He’s certain his stamina is low and would probably finish in under five minutes, but it doesn’t hurt to dream; and that he does.

Until you showed up to his apartment one Monday morning with a large Baja Blast from Taco Bell and a proposition.

“Taco Bell at ten in the morning, seriously?”

You hadn’t greeted him with a “Good morning!” or “Hey, how are you?” and instead jumped the gun and went straight into, “Hey, you know how my dad died?”

Jake held his front door open, running a hand through his messy, morning hair in confusion as he responded, “Wasn’t it from, like, alcoholism?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Yeah, but I meant like… you know that he’s dead, right? Also, Taco Bell serves breakfast, genius.”

“YN, it’s too early for this.” Jake says with a frustrated sigh, prepared to close the door in your face because it’s way too early to deal with your bullshit.

“I’m getting his inheritance from my grandmother, a huge one.”

Jake tried his best at attempting to hide the look of shock on his face. From his knowledge, your grandparents were loaded; practically rolling in money since the moment they were born. Having your father’s inheritance transferred to you was a blessing, Jake didn’t even want to imagine the useless crap you’d waste that money on.

“Congrats, did you come here to rub it in my face?”

You sighed, slightly embarrassed and a little defeated knowing you’d need Jake’s help. You felt entirely guilty for even coming to him in the first place, the two of you weren’t close and hardly spoke outside of gatherings, the only reason you showed up to his apartment was because you didn’t have his phone number; only his address you had to scroll in your GPS to find from the one time you drove him home.

“No, I’m not here to brag. I need your help.”

Jake hesitantly opened his door wider, allowing you into his home that you nervously pace around in. “Help with what?” he asked, locking the door behind him.

“I don’t get the inheritance until after my grandma dies.”

“YN, are you crazy?! I am not helping you kill your grandmother!”

“What?! Jake, no! God, just let me finish.” An awkward beat of silence passed before you continued, “She says I’m not getting the inheritance unless I get into religion and be involved in church.”

“Yeah, can’t help with that.” Jake took a moment to look you up and down, eyes focusing on the fresh tattoo right under your knee, “You’re gonna need a miracle.”

You followed behind Jake like a helpless puppy as he entered his kitchen, nervously toying with your fingers as you set your drink down on the kitchen counter, “I know we aren’t really close, and that’s partially my fault, but I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out with this.”

“With what, YN? You haven’t said what you’d need me to do.”

“Just, every so often, tell my family that I’m involved in church and help out. Shit like that.”

Jake chuckled, powering on his Nespresso, “As if that’s gonna work. You know your family goes to church, right? What are they gonna think if they don’t see you there but I’m telling them you showed up? They’d see right through it.”

“They don’t go every Sunday! I’ll just check ahead of time and go with them whenever they do go, and on the days they don’t go you’d be able to cover for me.”

Jake sighed with a shake of his head, reaching into his cabinet to retrieve a coffee mug, “It’s not just Sunday service, YN. They also go to bible study and help plan church events. Your family is very involved in the community.”

“Again, they don’t attend every event, right? I’ll go when they go and you cover when I can’t! And, besides, it’s not like they’re expecting me to go to every single event; as long as they think I’m putting in effort I’ll be fine.”

You seemed proud of yourself and your plan, which only annoyed your step-brother even further, because you clearly hadn’t thought this through.

“What’s in it for me?”

You paused, quirking a brow at Jake, “What do you mean?”

“We barely even know each other and you expect me to do this big favor for you for free? Be realistic.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“I want…half of the inheritance.”

“Jake, even you know that’s too much.”

Yeah, maybe he was being a little petty, but it was your own fault for asking for a favor like this and not offering him anything in return. He may not know the exact amount of your inheritance, but based on your reaction, it had to be a life changing amount of money; enough to give him a portion of.

“I’d rather not say what the exact amount is,” you start, looking down at your sneakers, “but it’s a lot, and I’m definitely willing to give you a fraction of it if you help me out. Just not half.”

“How much?”

“For you? Fifty-thousand.”

Jake dropped the ceramic mug to the ground, eyes widening as the cup broke and scattered across the kitchen floor. You flinched, jumping back on instinct while he remained frozen in place. “Fifty-thousand dollars?”

You wanted to tell him it’s truly nothing compared to the amount you’d have leftover, and that you’d offer him more if he insisted on it, but fifty-thousand seems to be enough for him. Instead, you nodded, carefully backing into the living room to avoid accidentally stepping on the ceramic shards.

“Does that work?”

It was too late to pretend your offer wasn’t more than he’d been expecting, but still, Jake had no reason to believe you’d hold up to your end of the deal; even if giving him fifty-thousand dollars would hardly make a dent in what you’d be receiving.

Jake shook his head, “I don’t know you, how can I trust you’ll actually give it to me?”

“You can’t just take my word?”

“The only word I take is the word of God.”

You should’ve seen that one coming.

Jake continued, “I want a down payment that I can receive now; something so that if you don’t pay me, I still got something out of our agreement.”

Intrigued, and a little frightened, you tilted your head at him, “Money?”

Jake shrugged in response, carefully stepping over the shards of ceramic, “Doesn’t have to be, your mom says you don’t have much of it.”

“I have money!”

Jake rolled his eyes, retrieving a broom and dustpan from the hallway closet, “Right, because your part-time barista job pays so much.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “I really don’t know what else to offer you.”

“Better think of something or you’re on your own.”

The sound of ceramic clicking together as Jake cleans filled the silence, leaving you to brainstorm on what he would accept as a down payment offer. Money wasn’t an option, and you didn’t know enough about Jake’s interests to offer him some sort of bribe.

However, Jake is a man. Yes, a religious one, but still a man. If you’re lucky enough, there’s one thing you could offer that no man, not even Jake, would pass up.

“Chaeyoung is saving herself for marriage, right?”

Jake paused, suspiciously glancing at you over his shoulder, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, but yes.”

You nodded, “Are you?”

“Again, not your business, but yes.”

“What about loopholes?”

Jake fully turned around this time, narrowing his eyes at you, “YN, where are you going with this?”

You shrugged, defensively raising your hands, “What if I was your loophole? Like, I help you get off however you want without actually having sex, so it won’t count as sinning. And, trust me, I won’t tell anyone.”

Jesus Christ, you seriously wanted the inheritance that bad?

Jake immediately wanted to accept the offer and drag you straight into his room, but he couldn’t; he had to be nonchalant about this or risk you revoking your suggestion.

He faked a look of disgust, a confused, twisted snarl on his face as he responded, “But, you’re my step-sister; isn’t that wrong?”

You shrugged, “I don’t care if you don’t. Plus, we’re adults and we barely even know each other, it’s not like our parents married years ago and we grew up as siblings.”

Fair point, not that Jake needed any further convincing.

“I’m not offering you this again, by the way. You either accept it now or you’ll never get the chance again,” you warn Jake, taking a seat down on the edge of his couch.

After a few long moments of pretending to weigh his options, Jake extended the end of the broomstick in your direction, slowly using the handle of it to lift your skirt. You didn’t react, your eyes following the edge of the broomstick as Jake continued his actions. He lowered his head slightly, confused as to why he couldn’t see your panties, until he realized.

You weren’t wearing any.

He cleared his throat, quickly pulling the broom away before leaning it up against the wall. “Sure, whatever, I guess. As long as you don’t tell anyone.”

Easiest deal of his life.

Jake made sure you kept to your end of the deal, and maybe took some advantage of it.

The first incident occurred a few weeks after the agreement, when Jake had to cover for you upon missing Sunday service due to you being hungover.

“She was up all night designing flyers for the coat drive next week,” Jake addressed your mother’s concerns, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “she really wanted to come to today’s service, but I told her she should get some rest.”

Your mother clutched her heart, staring up at Jake in complete awe, “YN? My YN?”

Jake nodded, a sheepish grin on his face as he responded, “The one and only.”

Your mother was skeptical, tilting her head at her stepson with her brows furrowed, “Just doesn’t sound like something she would do, unless there was something in it for her, of course. You’re not covering for her, are you?”

Jake faked a laugh, “The only thing YN is covered in is the blood of Jesus Christ.”

…And apparently Jake’s cum only a few hours later.

“…Now, guess who’s stuck designing flyers for the coat drive? Me!”

“I told you I would do it, you little brat,” your fist tightens around Jake’s clothed cock and he groans, squeezing his eyes shut at the new, uncomfortable, yet pleasant sensation.

You were slightly off-put and a little humored when Jake showed up to your apartment requesting, “A handjob but I, like, keep my boxers on. Like, just do it through my clothes.”

“Wouldn’t you rather…have your boxers off?”

“Are you nuts? I’m not letting you touch me,” he’d said, unbuttoning his dress pants as he lowered himself on your mattress.

You obliged his request, awkwardly rubbing him through his boxers, watching as his facial expressions changed so quickly and constantly. His brows would furrow then relax, lips would twitch before sinking his teeth in them, all while he tried his best not to finish embarrassingly quick.

Which didn’t work.

Jake was already on the edge of cumming when you lowered your head down to his groin, placing a small peck against the head of his clothed cock, the material sticky and wet from his precum.

His body jolts at the touch, arching off the mattress with swears spewing from his lips as his orgasm washed over him. He shoves his boxers down in record time, grinning to himself when you groan in agony when his cum lands on your cheek.

Had you been literally anyone else, maybe Jake would’ve felt bad that he came so quickly and didn’t have the energy nor interest to give you anything in return; but he didn’t. This was an agreement, and as long as the two of you held to both your ends of the deal, there was nothing to feel bad about. He didn’t owe you anything else.

Surprisingly enough, the arrangements weren’t happening as frequently as Jake hoped they would.

You immersed yourself into the church community, showing up to Sunday Worship and Bible Study as if it were a second nature. Jake should be proud, really, that you’re serious about being devoted; even if it was under the premise of obtaining your father’s inheritance, but he’s pissed.

He waited weeks for you to slip up, intentionally scheduling a Bible Study session or some church fundraiser at a time where he knows you’ll be busy and have no choice to skip, but you show up.

To every fucking event. Until you don’t.

Your younger cousin was getting baptized and you missed it, and if it weren’t for Jake making up some lame excuse and covering for your ass, your mother would’ve gone ballistic on you.

Jake’s happy to cover for you, though, knowing he’d be getting something in return not too long afterwards.

After weeks of feigning, that simple slip up was how Jake found him back between your thighs, pumping his cock along the outline of your cunt through your thin panties.

“Whatever,” you sneer, propping yourself up on your elbows, “marriage is the last thing on my mind right now.”

Jake rolls his eyes, pausing and grateful at the fact that he has a better of your tits. For some godforsaken reason, the air conditioner in your home is always on full blast, and despite assuring your guests that you don’t feel that cold, your body certainly says otherwise; if the way your hardened nippled poke through your shirt is anything to go by.

He licks his lips, pumping his dick a little faster as he leans down and traces his tongue along your clothed nipple. You’re saying something, maybe asking him what he’s doing or to keep going, but he can’t hear you; having you like this is new territory for him, nothing else in the world mattered at this moment.

His saliva stains your t-shirt as he continues, moaning against your chest as he flicks his tongue against your bud. Jake lightly traps your nipple between his teeth, tugging on it just enough to sting before releasing it once again, lapping his tongue against it as if to apologize.

Your hand moves to his hair, giving it a tight grip as Jake moans before shoving your arm away entirely. “Are you insane?! Don’t touch me!”

“But-”

“Wait.”

Fuck, that felt good. It wasn’t much but it felt so fucking good.

He needed more of you, fuck all this waiting for marriage bullshit. He tried his best for as long as he could, and he doesn’t want to fucking wait anymore.

“I wanna try something,” he mumbles, wasting no time in pushing your panties to the side. The sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his mouth water, and Jake swears he can hear a choir of angels singing as he stares down at it in awe.

“Jake, I thought-”

“Fuck that,” Jake is quick to cut you off, already knowing what your next words were, “I don’t wanna wait anymore; show me how.”

“How to what?”

“The one thing you know how to do.”

“Oh, fuck you. You’re such an asshole.” You say, but it doesn’t stop you from maneuvering your right hand between your bodies and gripping the base of Jake’s cock, encouraging him to scoot forward as you guide him directly to your hole.

You don’t move him any further, making the choice of letting Jake decide whether he’s serious about this.

He is.

He presses the head of his cock further into you, squeezing his eyes shut as you wrap around him so snug and perfect. He stills his movements, head dropping to your shoulder with a groan.

It’s already too much and he’s not even halfway in. It feels too good, so wet and warm and tight, better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“Fuck…”, he mumbles into your shoulder, taking note of how none of this barely had an effect on you.

“It’s okay,” you assure him in an oddly sweet tone, “try moving.”

“I can’t, think I’m gonna come if I do.”

“You’ll be fine, just-”

Jake lets out a loud, frustrated groan as he raises his head away from your shoulder, “You wouldn’t fucking get it.”

Jake spent too many countless nights imagining this very scenario, and now that it’s finally happening he can barely even handle it. Everything feels too good and it’s all too much for him to bear.

He pulls his dick out of you entirely, giving himself a few hard pumps as his impending orgasm approaches. It looks almost painful, the way he’s gripping and pumping his cock, how red his tip is, you’re surprised a few tears don’t slip from his eyes when he finally does finish, painting your thighs with his cum as his body trembles.

He rests a shaky hand on your knee, grip on his cock softening as he makes a mess across your panties, thick, white ropes of cum staining your underwear.

“Fuck,” Jake mumbles to himself as he steadies his breathing. He’s never came this hard before, to the point where he feels exhausted and genuinely empty.

“Are you…okay?” You ask, cringing at the sticky feeling between your thighs.

Jake nods slowly, sitting himself up as he tucks his now-softened cock back into his boxers, “Let’s, uh, get cleaned up so we can go.”

His head his spinning as he rises from your bed, a dizzy feeling coming over him as he stands. Fuck, maybe this is why he should’ve waited for marriage.

“Go where?”

“Bible study is starting soon,” he explains, “if we leave now we can stop by Taco Bell beforehand, I need a Baja Blast.”

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

Now wait a minute this was so good I had to read part 1 first then come back for part 2…sleepyhoon thank you for coming across my feed I will now be binge reading all your fics 🙏

part 2 - read part 1 here

✰ pairing. — emo!hs x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend’s older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 10k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, friendship betrayal, mention of drugs/alcohol, smut [ cunnilingus, rough sex, …idk how else to describe it ] reader and hs are both 18+, minors dni, cliffhanger.

✰ a/n. PART 3 IS IN THE WORKS PART 3 IS IN THD WORKS PART 3 IS IN THE WORKS

✰ perm taglist. @intromortal @aanniikkaa @meetletsinmontauk @lovelyyf @right-person-wrong-time

———

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out?” Chaeryeong is glaring daggers at you upon opening the front door, arms crossed across her chest as she eyes you. Her lips are twisted into a disgusted snarl, you’ve never seen her this upset before.

You swallow the lump in your throat, “Find out about what?”

She cocks her head to the side, squinting her eyes at you, “Don’t act like you don’t know.”

Fuck, you’re screwed. If there were a list of all the reasons why you shouldn’t have had sex with Lee Heeseung, the simple fact of him being your best friend’s brother would be number one.

With closed eyes, you let out a relieved sigh. As much as you wanted to wait to tell Chaeryeong about hooking up with Heeseung, it’d be an enormous weight off your shoulders not having to hide it any longer. It’d only been a few days since it happened, but you hate keeping secrets from her.

“How’d you find out?” You question, chewing on your bottom lip.

“My parents told me, duh.”

Holy crap, Heeseung told his parents the two of you had sex? Why the fuck would he do that?

“They did?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“Well, yeah!” Chaeryeong finally uncrosses her arms, demeanor completely changing as her gaze softens, “Why didn’t you tell me your sister got engaged?”

Thank God you didn’t elaborate any further.

“Oh! Because they probably aren’t gonna last.” You respond, stepping into the Lee household once Chaeryeong allows you to enter. It’s been a few days since you’ve been here, mostly due to the fact that you were completely avoiding Heeseung.

The empty condom in his trash bin had been plaguing your mind nonstop, you could barely even sleep from how embarrassed you were. Why did he fake his orgasm? What if he didn't fake an orgasm and just shot a blank? Did you do something wrong? Was he not attracted to you? Why was the condom empty?

Seeing him in person would’ve only intensified the thoughts roaming in your head, so you avoided him at all costs up until now. You’d promised the Lee siblings that you’d finally see Twilight with them and their friends despite not being able to function correctly around either of them.

Chaeryeong snickers, following you into the living room. “Ooh, that’s not nice.”

“It’s true, though,” you explain, “she’s still so young, only a few years older than your brother. I mean, can you picture Heeseung getting married in a few years?”

The regret from that question fills you almost immediately.

“Sure,” Chaeryeong responds, pausing to greet the eager doberman charging at her. “As long as he finds the right person; he’d get married in a heartbeat.”

You want to ask what Chaeryeong’s definition of “the perfect person” would be for Heeseung or the type of girl she’d be willing to set him up with. It’d probably be the unnamed, mysterious redhead you recently dreamed about curb stomping (yikes!).

You don’t respond to this, taking a seat on the sofa when the sudden shout of your name has you flinching. It’s Chaeryeong’s parents, excitedly greeting you with open arms as you politely stand to properly hug them. “I feel like it’s been so long since we’ve seen you! How’s your family? We just heard the news about your sister!” Mrs. Lee ambushes you with questions, all while cradling your face.

“About how she’s making the biggest mistake of her life?” You half-joke.

Mrs. Lee playfully waves a hand in your direction as she steps into the kitchen, her husband only a few feet behind. “Oh, don’t say that. I’m sure the two of them will be very happy together.” She turns to her husband, grabbing his hand, “I just can’t believe Imogen is getting married. I still remember when she first started high school.”

Mr. Lee sighs in disbelief. “I know,” he mumbles, nodding at you. “You’re up next soon, huh?”

“Maybe she can marry Heeseung,” Mrs. Lee joked, opening her fridge, “set him straight.”

There’s an idea.

“Gross, Mom. Don’t wish that on her.” Chaeryeong groans in disgust as she plops down next to you.

Well, that answers your previous question.

“We should probably get going, right? To make it in time for the trailers?” You ask.

“Yeah, we should.” Chaeryeong responds, tilting her head up towards the staircase, “Heeseung! Hurry up and come downstairs! We’re ready to go!”

“Gimmie a minute!” He shouts back, and a chill runs down your spine. It’s been too long since you’ve heard his voice. The last time you saw him, he was lying naked in his bed; you’re not sure how you’ll survive being around him all night knowing what your last encounter was like.

As promised, Heeseung is sliding down the staircase a minute later and nails the landing. He’s wearing a black Twilight shirt featuring the leading couple, black cargo pants, and, of course, black sneakers. He looks like his usual self until you take a closer look and notice the reddish-black eyeshadow that decorated his eyes. It wasn’t much, just enough to make his eyes pop, and it complimented him perfectly. A second later, you see the black nail polish neatly coated on his nails. You have to blink a few times to ensure this is real life and you’re not trapped in a wet dream.

He strolls into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from his parents before digging through the fridge. His mom clears her throat, crossing her arms at him.

“What?” He asks, retrieving a two-liter Mountain Dew bottle.

“Seriously, Heeseung? The makeup? The nail polish?” She questions, clearly frustrated.

Heeseung cocks his head, unscrewing the soda bottle’s lid. “What’s wrong with it? Chaeryeong’s wearing the same thing.”

“Son, you know that’s different.” His father interjects.

Heeseung takes a swig of the soda before responding. “Why? Because she’s a girl?”

“It’s not like that, hon. It’s just…we didn’t make a big deal of it when you first started the piercings, and the tattoos, and the hair dye, but this…it’s a little much. Don’t you think?” His mother asks.

You want to step in and tell his parents that Heeseung is old enough to make his own decisions and express himself as he pleases, but it’s not your place. Instead, you cheer silently when Chaeryeong surprisingly interrupts the discussion. “Did you guys seriously force him to come back home just to criticize how he presents himself, or would you rather have a peaceful summer?”

“We aren’t trying to criticize him, Chaeryeong. We’re just looking out for our child.” Mr. Lee responds.

“It’s a special occasion, Dad. Is it bad that I wanted to look nice for—” Heeseung abruptly cuts himself short, quickly glancing in your direction before returning his attention to his parents. “...to go see Twilight with my friends?”

What was that about?

Silence passes, and the three stare at each other until Mrs. Lee sighs defeatedly and says, “No, there’s nothing wrong with that, sweetheart. I hope you guys enjoy the movie.”

“We will,” Heeseung responds, closing the soda bottle lid and placing it back in the fridge. He heads for the front door, beckoning you and Chaeryeong to follow behind. He’s eager to leave the house, quickly swinging the front door open and jogging towards his car.

You and Chaeryeong say goodbye to her parents with a promise to be home by eleven before following in Heeseung’s footsteps, who already has the car running. As you wait for Chaeryeong to finish locking the front door, Heeseung rolls down his window and shouts, “Hurry up! Let’s go!”

“Will you calm down?!” Chaeryeong throws back, rolling her eyes as she finally removes the house key from the lock.

You follow her towards Heeseung’s car, sliding into the backseat as you pretend not to notice Heeseung watching you through the rearview mirror. He wants you to look at him, but you refuse, busying yourself by buckling your seatbelt and convincing Chaeryeong to do the same. Once Heeseung is convinced you’re not going to do so much as glance at him, he puts the car in drive and pulls into the road.

Chaeryeong talks your ear off in the backseat about whatever comes to mind while you keep your eyes on the window. It’s hard to not notice Heeseung glancing back at you through the mirror at every red light or stop sign, but you don’t dare meet his gaze.

The movie theater’s parking lot is crowded when you arrive; it takes Heeseung a few minutes to eventually locate a spot. A smile is plastered on his face as he parks the car, eager to see some of his closest friends after being separated. He informs you and Chaeryeong to disregard anything foolish he friends may say, claiming they arrived early to smoke behind the movie theater, so they’re more than likely too high to function properly.

Heeseung shrugs when Chaeryeong asks why people do that, shoving his hands into his pockets as the three of you make your way towards the theater entrance. “Some people say it makes the movie experience better.”

You want to ask Heeseung if he’s ever been high, but you can barely even bring yourself to look in his direction; let alone ask him a question. So you’re silent as the three of you enter the movie theater, instantly spotting Heeseung’s bandmates in the far corner.

Well…Heeseung’s bandmates and one other guest.

The bubbly redhead greets you guys first, running up to Heeseung with open arms as if they haven’t seen each other in a million years. It makes you want to vomit.

You look away as they hug, directing your attention to the concession stand employee who had apparently already been watching you. His name tag reads ‘Jake’, and he resembles a slightly younger version of Heeseung, with the same dark hair and similar lip piercing. His eyes stay on you until a customer blocks your path, and you’re back to watching Heeseung reunite with his friends.

“Hey, you were the one at that party, right? With Chaeryeong?” The redhead asks, squinting her eyes at you.

“Yeah.” Is all you respond with, because why in God’s name is this girl talking to you right now?

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Scar,” she introduces herself, extending a hand for you to shake.

Chaeryeong interjects, grabbing ahold of your wrist while glaring at Scar. “Your name is Scarlett.”

She drags you along to the ticketbooth, mumbling about she doesn’t like nor trusts Scar. When you ask for her reasonsings, she responds with, “I don’t need one. I just don’t like her.”

At least you’re on the same page about that.

Still, you can’t help but wonder why Chaeryeong has a distaste for Scar. You have your petty reasoning for disliking her, but Chaeryeong (more than likely) has better knowledge of Scar’s personality, so whatever reasons she has for disliking her could be legitimate.

You’re thinking of this as Heeseung is ordering the tickets for everyone, asking the employee to give him a minute when the friend you recognise as Jay starts tapping his shoulder. “We should go see Saw instead, it just came out.”

Heeseung looks genuinely confused at the suggestion. “What? No, we came here to see Twilight.”

“So?!” Jungwon chimes in, eyes as red as the devil, “Come on, dude, you’ve already seen Twilight, don’t you wanna see something new?”

“Fuck no, we’re literally in the middle of buying the tickets.” Heeseung reminds everyone.

“I kinda wanna see Saw, too.”

“Same.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I do, too.”

Heeseung whips his head around at his sister, “What? Even you?”

Chaeryeong scoffs, “Well, yeah! Twilight just seems boring in comparison.”

“Come on guys,” the employee interrupts, “you’re holding up the line.”

Heeseungs turns towards you. “Do you still wanna see Twilight?”

Truthfully, you want to go home; but seeing how excited Heeseung was for the movie made you feel something, so you nod. He lets out a relieved sigh.

He moves out of the way to allow his friends to buy their tickets first, slipping his sister cash to pay for hers; to which she initially rejects. “I don’t need your money,” she claims.

“Just take it, Chaeryeong. I brought it for you.”

From what you can make out, it’s enough to cover her ticket and grab something from the concession stand. The pair of siblings may bicker a lot, but it’s nice to know Heeseung still looks out for his younger sister whenever he can.

Chaeryeong reluctantly accepts the money and purchases her ticket, you watch as Heeseung follows suit; ordering two tickets for Twilight and stopping you from opening your purse. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I have enough.” You reassure him.

Heeseung laughs to himself, “Why are the two of you like this?” He questions, fishing out crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and handing them to the cashier who sighs in annoyance, straightening and inspecting each bill before placing it in his register.

You don’t know why Heeseung insists on being so nice to you despite your persistence on not speaking to him. A part of you wonders if he thinks this is some kind of date now that the two of you will be separated from the group. It doesn’t matter, you don’t know why you’re thinking too much into it.

Once all the tickets have been purchased, the seven of you head towards the concession stand. Chaeryeong debates pushing herself to the front of the long line, claiming that the theater should make accommodations to those who’s movie is starting sooner. Or something like that, you can’t really focus with the way Jake is staring at you. You’re used to guys staring all the time, but they tend to shyly look away upon making eye contact.

Jake is quite the opposite, staring you down every chance he gets. Your skin feels hot, and you’re suddenly growing anxious under his gaze.

When the group ahead of you has finished ordering and is heading off into their theater, you’re sure to stick close to Heeseung as you approach the counter. Jake eyes him over once before returning his gaze to you. “What can I get for you guys?”

Heeseung takes the liberty of ordering a large popcorn for the two of you to share, and doesn’t even get mad when you request a slushie instead of a fountain drink. He doesn’t let you pay of course, swatting your hand away when you absentmindedly reach for your purse. “You seriously have to stop doing that.” He mumbles, handing Jake the cash.

Jake is quick to prepare the popcorn and Heeseung’s drink, but takes his time when making your slushie. He’s sure to fill it to the brim, and you’re worried it may accidentally overflow and leave a sticky mess. “You didn’t want candy or anything?” He questions, handing you your drink.

You shrug, “Maybe Twizzlers, but—”

Before you can finish, Jake is reaching under the counter then sliding you a pack of Twizzlers. “On me.”

“Oh, are you sure?” You ask, hesitant to accept the free candy.

Jake sends Heeseung a cocky smirk before he responds, “Yeah, enjoy the movie.”

You thank Jake and pretend to not notice the death glares the two boys are sending one another before walking with Heeseung to your theater. “That guy was weird.” He comments.

“Yeah.” You agree, but it’s definitely not true. Jake was friendly and clearly interested in you, unlike Heeseung who was sending you nonstop, draining mixed signals. If his definition of weird is someone who is straightforward, then perhaps you should start going after weirdos.

Once you’re settled in your seats in the back of the theater, — per Heeseung’s request — he clears his throat then says, “So, I tried messaging you on Facebook. Didn’t get anything back.”

“Oh, sorry. I haven’t been using Facebook that much.” You reply, hoping your lame excuse is believable enough.

He nods, eyes bouncing between you and the movie trailers playing in the background. “Yeah, I figured.” He says. When you don’t respond, he continues, “I would’ve asked Chaeryeong for your number, but I didn’t want her to get suspicious or anything.”

“That’s smart.” You admit, nodding in agreement.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asks suddenly, his full attention to you.

You finally make eye contact, and the expression on his face makes your heart sink. He looks genuinely concerned and confused by your sudden coldness. You hate being so mean to him, but you’re too embarrassed to explain the real reason why you’ve been avoiding him. So you nod and say, “Just a little tired.”

It’s clear he doesn’t believe this, the same expression is still on his face as he refocuses on the movie trailers.

You hate how awkward it feels to be around him now, never in a million years would you have guessed the two of you would end up like this. A week ago you would’ve been overjoyed at the idea of being on a movie date with Heeseung; and now you’re considering leaving early and catching a taxi home.

The two of you remain silent as the rest of the trailers play on, and Heeseung immediately sits up in his seat when the lights finally dim and the curtains are being pulled back further. He’s incredibly quiet throughout the movie aside from a muffled chuckle every now and then; he even side-eyes anyone making too much noise.

You enjoy Twilight nonetheless, agreeing with Heeseung that you do in fact dress like Bella Swan from time to time. When he asks if you liked it as you’re exiting the theater, you tell him it was very nice, and that you hope there’ll be another movie.

Heeseung smiles at this, tossing his empty cup in a nearby trash bin. “I’m sure there will be. Maybe they’ll even cast you as Bella’s stunt double since you already have the clothes.”

“Shut up.” You tease, and it feels nice to be able to joke around with him as usual. Maybe you’ll finally have the courage to tell Heeseung why you’ve been so distant these past few days.

Saw doesn’t get out for another few minutes, so you’re stuck waiting in the lobby for Chaeryeong and everyone else. Heeseung gestures towards the nearly empty slushie cup clutched in your hands, “You get free refills on that, I think.”

You take his word, strolling over to the concession stand. Jake spots you immediately and gestures for you to skip around the line. You shake your head, but he still beckons for you to come over. You feel bad, but the line has gotten longer since you were first here, and you really don’t want to wait in a long line just for a refill.

“What flavor?” He asks once you’ve slid him your cup.

You tell him anything is fine and he gets to work, combining the cherry and blue raspberry flavors. “How was the movie?”

“It was good. The vampire stuff was cool.”

“Have you seen Saw yet? It just came out.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“It’s so good; if you wanna give me your number maybe we can see it together some time.”

What is it with guys offering to take you out to a movie they’ve already seen? You’re not complaining, it’s just odd.

Jake is clearly interested in you and has offered to take you out. You'd be silly to pass up on this guy just because your current relationship with your longtime crush is at a standstill. So you accept, scribbling your phone number down on a napkin with your name underneath. He makes a promise to call you once his shift is over, and that he looks forward to seeing you.

When you turn to meet up with Heeseung, he’s gone. You catch him storming out of the theater, hauling ass to his car.

You run to catch up to him, calling out his name and begging him to slow down.

When he finally does stop, there’s a look on his face that you’ve never seen before. He gets angry all the time, but this was something completely different, something unrecognizable.

He was hurt.

“So you were just using me, huh?”

What? What is he talking about?

“Using you for what?”

“To lose your virginity. You just wanted to get it over with, right?” His voice is slightly hushed now, but still loud enough for you to feel embarrassed about anyone passing through the parking lot.

“Heeseung, what are you talking about?”

“You used me to lose your virginity, so when you date other guys you can tell them you’ve had sex before. Is that what this is?”

This accusation hurts, considering that Heeseung was the only guy you’ve ever been interested in romantically and sexually. You don’t know where this theory is coming from, but you don’t like it.

Heeseung continues before you respond, “I tried reaching out and talking to you, and you just blew me off! And yet here you are giving your number to random guys! Am I not good enough for you?!”

“It’s not like that, Heeseung!” You don’t mean to raise your voice at him, but you can’t help it. Both of your emotions were at an all time high.

“Then what is it like?!”

Here goes nothing.

There’s already tears forming as you go to explain yourself. “I didn’t reach out to you because…because I was embarrassed.”

“You were embarrassed to have sex with me?”

This is bad; really, really bad. Much worse than you could have ever imagined.

It’s started raining by now, and if Heeseung noticed it, then he doesn’t seem to care; allowing the raindrops to stain his outfit and ruin his eye makeup.

It feels like a scene from a movie, him standing there in the pouring rain waiting for a response while you stumble over your words to formulate one.

“No!” You yell in reassurance, “No, no, no. Of course not. I was embarrassed because I know you didn’t finish. I just thought maybe I did something wrong or maybe I didn’t do enough.”

Heeseung quirks a brow at you, “What makes you think I didn’t finish?”

You really hate that he’s making you explain this. “I saw the condom afterwards; it was empty.”

“You went digging in my trash can to find the condom?” Now he looks more disgusted than confused; this is going so horribly.

“No! I saw it when I went to get my phone off the charger.”

Heeseung takes a minute to process everything, scratching his chin in deep thought. You can’t tell what he’s feeling, but he does look hurt. It makes you regret avoiding him in the first place.

“So, you were prepared to never talk to me again over an empty condom?” Despite his tough demeanor, he’s clearly shaking as he questions you.

You want to say no, that it wasn’t a case, but you can’t bring yourself to lie to him again. So you say nothing. Heeseung nods at your lack of response before turning around and walking towards his car. You remain still, frozen in place, watching as he sits on the hood of his car and smokes a cigarette.

If it weren’t for Chaeryeong finishing her movie within the next few minutes, you would’ve walked the entire way home.

———

This bitch is driving you crazy.

Your older sister, Imogen, is home for a few days to start her wedding preparations. The fake bridezilla persona she's putting on bothers you the most, bursting out in tears at the most inconvenient times or having a breakdown about selecting a theme. Deep down, she doesn't care about any of this bullshit; she's like you about parties or big events.

"This is literally the biggest day of my life, and you're being so fucking difficult." Imogen snarls at you, pouring herself a cup of coffee. You're sitting a few feet away on the kitchen counter, staring out the kitchen window. Despite Imogen's occasional yelling and snarky comments, all you can think of is Heeseung.

It's been an entire week since the movie theater incident. You haven't stopped by the Lee household not once, telling Chaeryeong you fell ill and don't want to get her sick. It's another lame excuse, but she buys it, opting to talk to you on the phone daily until you recover.

You have yet to speak to Heeseung; but it's not like you've tried. The idea of messaging him on Facebook and not receiving a response makes you anxious, and it's hard to believe you subjected him to the same torture not long ago. It doesn't help that Scarlett is suddenly all over his page, commenting on nearly every one of his posts, writing on his wall, or tagging him in pictures. Your recurring dream of curb-stomping her is back in full force.

You sigh at your sister, "Whatever you say, Imogen."

She waves dismissively at you, "Please, don't even talk to me right now."

You hop off the counter in annoyance and stomp off towards the staircase, mumbling, "Fucking drama queen."

"Language." Your mom warns you, flipping through one of the several bridal magazines your sister has stacked on the coffee table.

Imogen scoffs, setting her mug on the counter. "I'm the drama queen? Whenever I talk about my wedding, you throw a fit."

"Why are you pretending to care about this stupid wedding and that stupid boy you barely even know?!" You shout back from the staircase.

"If my wedding is so stupid, then don't come!"

"I don't even want to go to your stupid wedding with your stupid fiancé and your stupid red velvet cake that no one's going to fucking eat!"

This is probably the dumbest fight you've ever had.

Imogen doesn’t respond to this, advised by your mother no to and to just let you stomp up the stairs in a furious rage. You make a beeline straight to your desktop, waking up the computer with a shake of the mouse and entering your password.

Facebook is already open once you’ve signed in, Heeseung’s page staring right back at you. You’re ashamed to admit you’d been cyber stalking him, but you really didn’t have any other choice. Seeing him in person would’ve been too much, but you still want to make sure he’s doing okay.

There’s a new post up when you refresh the page, you chew on your bottom lip as you anxiously wait for it to finish loading.

It’s a picture of his dirty Chuck Taylor’s perched upon a wooden stool. You recognize the background immediately, he’s in the treehouse in his backyard. You and Chaeryeong would spend hours up there as kids, giving each other manicures and exchanging secrets; now you can barely look her in the eye without bursting out in tears. You hate how complicated things have become.

There’s a light tap against your door that has you swiveling around in your chair. It’s Imogen, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed. “Who’s that?”

“Chaeryeong’s brother.” You respond, scrolling to a photo that actually shows his face.

Imogen steps further into your bedroom, squinting her eyes at the computer screen. “Oh, yeah. Hasn’t changed much, has he?” When you remain silent, she asks, “Would it be wrong of me to assume he’s the real reason why you’re so upset?”

You sigh, letting your shoulders drop. “You’d be very correct, actually.”

She nods in understanding, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “So, what’s going on? You like him?”

“We kind of like each other, I guess.” You mumble. To be honest, you’re not quite sure how Heeseung feels about you right now.

“And Chaeryeong doesn’t approve of it?”

You snort, “Chaeryeong doesn’t know. There was nothing to tell her at first, but things have changed.”

“Are you guys dating?”

“No. We actually haven’t talked in a week. I may have hurt his feelings.”

Imogen nods towards your desktop, “Where is he now?”

You shrug, “Home, I guess.”

She stands, stretching out her limbs. She glances around your room, locates a jacket dangling lifelessly from your doorknob, and tosses it to you. “Let’s go.”

Taking an impromptu trip to the Lee household had you sweating. What if Heeseung doesn’t even want to see you? What if Chaeryeong catches you talking and asks what’s going on?

Each concern you raise is instantly shot down by Imogen, claiming you’re creating excuses to avoid seeing him, how you’re only imagining the worst possible scenarios. You appreciate her overwhelming support but can’t help the nervousness creeping through your body as her car approaches the Lee household.

“Remember, be apologetic but not desperate,” Imogen informs you, putting her car in park in front of the house.

“I am desperate.” You remind her.

“Well, don’t let him see it. You got this.”

You thank your sister one last time for the advice before stepping out of her car. You’re careful to avoid being seen from windows as you make your way into the backyard; not entirely sure what you’d say if Chaeryeong were to catch you.

You scale the tree quickly, silently praying the old wooden steps are stable enough to hold your weight.

You sigh in relief once you’ve reached the top, only to groan at the sight of Scarlett sitting across from you. She looks up from her iPod with a bright smile, quickly pulling out her earbuds as you enter the treehouse. “Hey, stranger! Watcha doing here?”

Her enthusiasm really makes you sick. “Came to see Heeseung,” you pause to glance around the tiny, wooden deathtrap, “but he’s nowhere to be found.”

“He’ll be back soon; went to use the bathroom,” Scarlett informs you, running her hands through her hair. “So, you guys really like each other, huh?”

What? She knows about that?

“Heeseung told you?” You question, trying your best to appear unbothered. You’re unsure where she’s going with this, but you have no reason to trust her.

Scarlett nods, “We tell each other everything. So when he told me you guys weren’t talking, I may have devised a plan to help you come around. You do use Facebook, right?” She smirks

Holy shit, all the posts of them together were to make you feel jealous enough to have a conversation with him; and your sworn enemy was the mastermind behind it. It was all a ploy to get under your skin, and you fell right into the trap.

“You’re a stubborn little thing, though. Didn’t think it’d take you so long.” She comments, slipping her jacket on.

You shrug, “I didn’t think he’d want to talk to me.”

“Heeseung always wants to talk to you. I don’t mind it, though. You seem good for him.”

Aside from Chaeryeong, Scarlett is probably the last person you would’ve expected to be supportive of your relationship with Heeseung. So, to hear she’d been secretly rooting for you behind the scenes nearly gives you whiplash. You almost feel wrong about your dreams of shoving her face into the pavement.

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “So, nothing is going on between you guys?”

Scarlett grimaces as if you deeply offended her, “Of course not! Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute, but not my type. His sister is cute, though.”

Woah.

“Chaeryeong? Lee Chaeryeong? You’re into her?” You ask, completely stunned.

“Hell yes. Hey, do you think you could set us up? Heeseung would never.”

“You do know that Chaeryeong can’t stand you, right?”

Scarlett excitedly nods, “I know, it’s kind of a turn-on.”

You hold your hands out to stop her from elaborating any further. Scarlett has surprised you in more ways than one in less than five minutes. You’re sure any new information would’ve made your head explode.

“I’ll…try my best.” You promise; not quite sure how Chaeryeong would feel about the idea of Scarlett liking her.

“For what?” A voice interrupts, causing you and Scarlett to direct your attention to the treehouse’s entrance. And there he is, in all his gothic glory.

“Girl talk, none of your business,” Scarlett responds, making room for Heeseung to crawl in.

“Fine. You keep your secrets; I’ll keep mine.” Heeseung groans, sitting between the two of you.

“Will do. I’m outta here. Got a hot date with a box of hair dye. See you suckers later.” Scarlett waves goodbye as she exits the treehouse, reminding you of your promise before disappearing down the steps.

Heeseung clears his throat, sweeping his hair away from his eyes. "So—"

"I'm sorry," you cut him off, "I should've reached out and talked to you, but I was just too embarrassed and didn't know how to approach you about it. I really like you, and I wasn't using you to lose my virginity. I mean, you're the only person I've ever been interested in. So, again, I'm sorry."

He sighs, "I understand why you were embarrassed, but I promise it had nothing to do with you."

"Then what was it?"

Heeseung anxiously scratches the back of his head before he responds. "It's just that…sometimes…it takes me a little bit longer to, uh…to finish."

Oh.

"Is it because of your…size?" You can't help but wonder.

Heeseung snorts, "What, you think I'm big?"

"I'm out of here." You joke, faking as if you're about to leave.

"Wait, wait, wait." He stops you, "I was only kidding. I never really thought size played a factor in it, but every guy is different. But, still, that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy us having sex. I mean, you had already finished, and I didn't want to tire you out just for my sake."

Knowing he had a perfectly reasonable explanation makes you feel even worse about spending all that time avoiding him. You want to tell him you wouldn't mind him tiring you out, that the idea excites you, but you refrain.

A beat of silence passes, and you ask, "But, I'm sure if there's something that you're really into, then it wouldn't take as long for you to finish. Right?"

Heeseung nods, "I guess."

"Then, what is it? What are you into?"

He coughs, tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. "Um…I guess I'm into…roughness?"

Ah.

"That's not a big deal. A lot of people are probably into that."

"I mean, it's fine either way, but I mostly prefer when girls are kinda rough with me. Fuck, this is embarrassing."

"It's not!" You reassure him, placing a gentle hand on his knee, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me."

Heeseung stares at your hand on his knee before placing his own on top. You twist yours upwards and interlock your fingers, not missing the smile that forms on his face. His bangs have swept into his eyes again, and you use your free hand to move them out of the way. "It was my first time, too, by the way."

You snort, "You don't need to say that just to make me feel better."

"I'm serious," he continues, "I mean, I've gotten pretty handsy in the past, but nothing like what we did."

You shake your head, "I don't buy it. You seemed so experienced like you knew what you were doing."

Heeseung shrugs, "I mean, I'm not completely innocent. I may occasionally watch certain videos and read certain stories from time to time."

Porn and smut. Beautiful combination.

He shakes his head, "You still don't believe me; how come?"

You sigh, memories of the night before he left for college flashing in your mind. How you ran home in tears, how he only responded to Scar's comment on Chaeryeong's Facebook post. It almost hurts to think about. "The night before you left for school, there was an opened condom wrapper on your floor. I just figured…you know."

Heeseung nods at the memory. "I wasn't gonna go to the dorms the next day. I was planning on running away, that's why I gave you that bandana. After my parents helped bring my stuff to the dorms, I was gonna put everything in my car then take off."

You're having a hard time processing this information. Why would Heeseung plan on running away? What does this story have to do with the empty condom?

He continues, clutching your hand even tighter. "I only told a few people I was leaving, and there was this one girl who came over to say goodbye. She'd been really into me for a while and was heartbroken that I was leaving. We were about to hook up, hence the condom wrapper, but I couldn't do it."

"Why?" You question.

"Didn't feel right. I wasn't into her the same way she was into me. Just couldn't do it." He explains, eyes staring deep into yours. You believe him; you know he's being truthful.

"What made you decide to stay?" You ask.

"For Chaeryeong," he answers, "I couldn't just leave her like that. And for you, too."

Though you've felt it for many years, telling Heeseung you love him is too soon. But you want to, so very badly.

"I'm glad you decided to stay." Your voice is barely a whisper now as you try to stop yourself from tearing up.

He nods, "Me too."

You sit in comfortable silence for a minute, clutching each other's hands. You wish you could stay like this forever.

"I just realized you never told me if there's anything you're into." He points out.

You shrug, "Just you." And it's true: Heeseung is the only person you've ever been interested in. Everything he says and does is genuinely attractive to you.

He drops your hand gently, using it to tilt your head towards him, and he kisses you.

You're quick to cradle the back of his head as his hands snake around your waist, deepening the kiss. You move to straddle his lap, slowly pushing him onto his back. He grunts in surprise, breaking away from the kiss. "You—"

"Stop talking." You demand before your lips intertwine with his once again. With one hand on his chest, you reach to grab a fistful of his hair and tug lightly, earning a satisfied moan from him. You're not used to being rough with guys, but you're sure Heeseung enjoys it with the way his erection is pressing up against your thigh.

Reluctantly, you pull away from him and sit up, staring at him sprawled underneath you in complete awe. "Alright, I'll message you my number so we can text. See you later."

"No! No, no, no. Please don't go." He pleads, holding you in place when you go to stand, "Just stay a little longer, please."

You smile down at him, fighting the urge to stay in the treehouse. "I can't. Imogen is waiting out front. We'll see each other soon, okay?" You promise, planting a kiss on his forehead.

Heeseung nods, drumming against the floor as he watches you crawl out of the treehouse. "Don't be too surprised if I seem extra excited to see you next time." He calls after you.

"Trust me, I won't."

———

Heeseung is the first boy to ever sneak in through your bedroom window.

He carelessly tosses his backpack in first, cringing when it lands on your carpeted floor with a loud thud. Though you’ve assured him your parents are heavy sleepers, he’s still worried you’ll get in trouble if he makes too much noise and accidentally reveals himself. “Sorry,” he apologizes, hand gripping your forearm as you help pull him in.

“It’s fine,” you whisper back, “they’re not gonna wake up.”

“Still,” he grunts, using his upper body strength to pull him further into your room. “Don’t want you getting in trouble.”

It’s a day after the treehouse incident; as promised, you sent Heeseung your number and spent all day texting back and forth. Despite not being big on texting, you admire how Heeseung likes to keep you updated on what he’s doing and how he checks up on you to ensure you’re okay.

“We’ll be fine, but just in case, I did make room for you in my closet in case you have to hide.” You inform him.

Heeseung stifles a laugh, “Good to know.” He settles himself on the edge of your bed, moving over once he realizes he’d sat on a pile of clothing. “Oh, were you about to shower?”

“I was,” you answer, moving the clothing over to your nightstand, “but I’ll wait until after you leave.”

He has to stop himself from making a joke about joining you in the shower. He nods, leaning down to drag his backpack towards him, “Guess what I got today.”

“What?” You question, legs folded underneath your body as you sit beside him.

Heeseung slowly unzips his backpack, careful not to make too much noise before rummaging through it and clutching something in his hand. He momentarily turns his back towards you, clips something to his shirt, then turns back around.

There’s a name tag on his chest now with his name scribbled in black ink and a little star next to it. “A job?”

He nods, “At that music store, Spin City. Need to start saving up before classes start. Plus, I wanna take you out somewhere nice before summer’s over.”

You gulp, “Like, a date?”

“Yeah. I mean, unless… I don’t know. I just kinda figured…” He trails off, suddenly worried he may be scaring you off.

You grab ahold of his hand, “I know, and trust me, you’re perfect, and I want us to be together. But, the night we saw you at that party, I did ask Chaeryeong if she would be upset if I was into you. Surprisingly, she said she wouldn’t mind as long as I talked to her before making a move on you. And, well…”

“We made a move on each other without telling her,” Heeseung finishes for you.

You nod, “Exactly.”

He sighs, “So, I’m guessing that means you wanna wait before we make things official.”

“Yeah. No matter what, I still want to be with you. But it’d be best for all of us to get her on board with this first. Show her how much we truly care for each other, and make sure she’s okay with it. So she knows my relationship with you won’t affect our friendship, and vice versa.” You explain. Heeseung’s eyes never stray from yours, listening intently and nodding at everything you say.

“That’s fair,” he agrees, “It’s a good idea. Do you want me to talk to her? Or for us to talk to her together?”

You shake your head, “She’ll definitely freak out on you; it’s best if I do it alone first, then you talk to her afterward.”

Heeseung leans back against your bed, resting his head on your pillow. It’s funny how different your aesthetics are; he looks perfectly out of place, sprawled on your baby pink pillow surrounded by teddy bears. “When?”

“I dunno,” you respond, lowering yourself until your head rests comfortably on his bicep. “Doesn’t have to be right away. As long as it’s before we move into the dorms.”

“We shouldn’t wait too long, though. It’ll only make things worse.” Heeseung mumbles, pulling you closer to him.

“I know. I’ll have a talk with her soon, I promise.”

You interlock pinkies to solidify your promise and ease his nerves. You hadn’t realized how anxiety-inducing this was for Heeseung as well. The idea of Chaeryeong not approving of your relationship had him genuinely worried.

“But, you should know that no matter what—” he starts.

You cut him off, “I know.”

———

The hands that once purposely dumped slime in your hair are now tugging your panties down your legs.

“Can we try something?” Heeseung asks with a mumble against your lips, your soft blue underwear now clutched in the palm of his hand.

“Like what? I actually make you come for once?” You joke, earning a laugh from Heeseung.

“Don’t worry about me.” He presses another kiss against your lips, “You trust me?”

“Of course.” You respond, sitting up in Heeseung’s bed as he moves backward, never breaking eye contact with you. He pushes your skirt up slightly but pats your hand away when you go to remove it altogether.

“Leave it on.” He commands, bringing himself at face level with your cunt.

You’ve never felt this shy in your life, grateful your bunched-up skirt created the tiniest barrier between having Heeseung see you all flustered. Never had you been this intimate with a guy, especially not a guy you technically weren’t even dating.

His thumb is circling your clit before you have the time to protest, to tell him he doesn’t have to do this just for your sake, but the feeling of his fingers pressed against you has you at a loss for words.

“This okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You respond, tilting your head upwards to stare at the ceiling.

Before you know it, his middle and index fingers are pressed against your opening, eliciting a gasp from your lips. At your reaction, Heeseung slips his finger into your entrance, thumb still playing with your clit. He insists on being teasingly slow today, wanting to draw out every moment and observe your reaction.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you in a slow, consistent motion, an amused smirk on his lips when he hears your breathing become ragged. Abruptly, he slips his fingers out of you, moving your thighs to rest them atop his shoulders.

“Wait, you don’t have to—oh fuck.” You’re cut off by Heeseung pushing himself forward, placing a sudden kiss on your clit that has your hips jolting in the air. His hand grabs your waist and licks at your slit, keeping you in place as he gently returns your body to his mattress.

His growing erection is the last of his worries, all too focused on dragging his tongue across your cunt. He flattens his tongue, pulling the wetness upward until he’s circling your clit again. In search of something to grab onto, your hands grip the bed sheets until Heeseung reaches forward, moving your hand over to grip his hair.

His eyes are closed when you look down at him, and you swear you can hear him moan as he eats you out. You try your best to keep the noise down out of fear someone will hear, but you can’t help but yell out when he’s back to fingering you, all while circling your clit with his tongue.

Your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face further into your pussy, and he lets out a satisfied groan. It’s embarrassing how quickly your orgasm approaches; everything with Heeseung is so intense. He knows this, eyes fluttering open to watch your expressions. Black eyeshadow is smeared across his eyelids as his eyes focus on your own, hands gripping your thighs as he tongue circles your clit.

His fingers are relentlessly pumping into your cunt now, contrasting against how teasingly slow his tongue is moving. He pulls his mouth away, lips glistening with your arousal, and asks, “You close?”

You don’t respond directly, but the grip you have on his hair gives him all the answers he needs before he’s diving back in. It doesn’t take much for you to come after that, a final kiss pressed on your clit, sending you over the edge and coating Heeseung’s fingers.

Heeseung doesn’t stop there, still continuing to lick and suck your clit until you’re begging him to stop from the overstimulation.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “Was that good?”

“That was literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You respond. Heeseung lets out a laugh as he crawls up next to you. “I should be upset with you, though.”

“What?” He questions, peppering your face with kisses, “Why’s that?”

“I came over to talk to your sister about us, and you distracted me.”

“How’d I do that?”

“Because! You came downstairs in your eyeshadow. Then you were all like, ‘Oh, hey. I cleaned my room; wanna check it out?’” You mimic a deep voice that sounds nothing like his.

“I apologize for putting on eyeshadow, bringing you to my room, and eating you out. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“I guess.”

You both laugh at this as you move to pull your skirt down. “Hey, how’d you realize you like it when girls are rough with you?”

Heeseung shakes his head as the memory returns to him, a shy smile on his face as he glances over at you. “A little while ago, I was picking on Chaeryeong for something. I don’t even remember why, but it got to the point where my parents were telling me to stop, and I wouldn’t. Then, you just started yelling at me out of nowhere, and I don’t know why, but it was the hottest thing ever. I was in awe. I really thought you were gonna slap me. Since then, it’s just been a turn-on of mine.”

“Wow. That’s actually kind of pathetic.” You tease.

He groans, “Please don’t say that. You’re gonna make me hard again.”

Laughter is shared between you once again before you lean your head down to rest on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat making you feel calm. A comfortable minute of silence passes before you have to address the unfortunate inevitable, “Chaeryeong should be here soon, right?”

“Yeah,” Heeseung mumbles, “within the next ten minutes.”

You sigh, “Next time I come over, I’ll have to tell her about us.”

———

The next time you stop by the Lee household, Heeseung has you bent over in the backseat of his car.

His finger digs into your waist as his cock is plunging into you at full force, emptying all the thoughts from your brain. You still haven’t fully adjusted to his size, but you don’t care; the pain of being split open makes you come faster. It feels better.

Heeseung insisted on taking things slow, telling you that you’d need to adjust to his size, but the moment you sunk your dripping cunt onto him, he was under your spell.

Your body lunges forward with every rough stroke Heeseung gives you, hands buried in your hair as he pulls you up against his chest. His hand moves from your hair down to your neck, tilting your head back while applying the slightest bit of pressure against your throat. Your eyes close out of instinct as tears form in the corner of your eyes before trickling down your cheeks. He kisses them away one by one before settling his lips on your neck. You make a mental note to check yourself for hickeys afterward.

You’re coming around him before you realize it, body spasming as you grip the driver’s seat headrest. Heeseung shows no signs of stopping or slowing down; in fact, he’s sped up even faster since fucking you through your orgasm. He lets go of your neck to push down on your back, left hand gripping your waist while the right intertwines your fingers with his.

A few strokes later, he’s finally coming and jokes about showing you the used condom as confirmation.

You shake your head, gesturing for him to pass you the shorts he’d tossed in the front seat. “I can’t believe I let you trick me again.”

“What?!” He exclaims in utter shock, reaching in the front seat to grab your discarded clothing, “How exactly did I trick you?”

“I came over to talk to Chaeryeong, but then you were all like, ‘Hey, come look at my car; I just got it washed.’” You playfully roll your eyes, searching around the backseat for your underwear.

“Can I keep these?” He asks suddenly, the most nonchalant expression on his face as your panties dangle from his middle finger.

You scoff, reaching to snatch them from him, confused when he retracts his hand. “I think I will keep them until you talk to Chaeryeong. Since it was you who wanted to talk to her first.”

“Then, I guess I’ll get them back tomorrow because I’m definitely talking to her today.”

Except you don’t.

You spent the entire summer sneaking around with Heeseung and procrastinating about having that talk with Chaeryeong. It was anxiety-inducing, to say the least, and you had no idea how she’d react. You tell yourself she won’t be upset as long as you assure her your friendship won’t be affected by you dating her brother.

You’re scheduled to move into the dorms within a few weeks, so it’s best to sort things out now before you all live under the same roof, unable to avoid one another. Heeseung doesn’t seem nervous at all. In fact, he’d given you a pep-talk the day before you showed up at their home.

“She can’t stay mad forever.” He pointed out, eyes sealed shut as you do his eyeliner.

“I know,” you mumbled, adjusting yourself on his lap, “but that girl can hold a grudge.”

“Right, but this is you we’re talking about. You mean a lot to her, to both of us, actually.”

His words play in your mind as you enter the Lee household, following Chaeryeong into the kitchen. “Baking something?” You ask, a sweet, decadent scent hitting your nose.

“Brownies for some stupid bake sale my parents are having. Help me clean up?” She asks, pouting her lips at you.

“Sure.” You agree, under the assumption that there wouldn’t be much to even clean up.

Boy, you were wrong. It’s like Chaeryeong used every dish in the house to make one sheet of brownies. There’s no backing out now; you already agreed to help, and it’d be best to stay on her good side for now.

She gets to work rinsing each dish before handing them to you to load the dishwasher, moving quickly to get everything done faster.

“What a beautiful friendship.” A familiar voice comments; you fight back a smile as Chaeryeong groans at her brother.

“You wouldn’t know; you don’t have any friends,” Chaeryeong responds, laughing at her words.

“Neither will you, soon,” Heeseung whispers back, groaning when you swat him in the chest. “Any brownie batter left?”

“None for you. Shouldn’t you be at work?” Chaeryeong asks, handing you another dish.

Chaeryeong takes a break from rinsing off the dishes to bicker with Heeseung for a minute. You tune out from the conversation, dipping your fingers into the leftover batter bowl and gathering the chocolate on your fingers.

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Heeseung says. When Chaeryeong finally directs her attention elsewhere, Heeseung takes the opportunity to grab your wrist, bringing your fingers up to his lips before sucking the chocolate off them.

Your eyes practically bulge out of your head, nervously glancing behind you to ensure Chaeryeong hadn’t seen anything. You swat at Heeseung’s chest for the second time, and he laughs as if you’re being overly dramatic. It’s odd how surprisingly calm he is about everything. His demeanor would have worried you if you didn’t trust him so much.

Heeseung wipes the renaming bit of chocolate around his lips before mouthing ‘Good luck.’ You give him a nervous smile, watching as he slips past Chaeryeong and leaves out the front door. You get back to work, making small talk with Chaeryeong as you help her load the dishwasher.

It’s now or never.

“So,” you start, “we’re gonna be living together soon.”

Chaeryeong smiles, “Finally! God, I can’t wait to have some freedom. My stupid curfew is a major cock-block. Right when things are finally getting good on a date, I have to go back home. So fucking frustrating. There’s literally cobwebs in my vagina.”

You snort, loading the final dish into the washer. “Well, you won’t have that problem anymore.”

“I know. And maybe you’ll even find someone worthy even to date you.” Chaeryeong jokes, hopping on the kitchen counter.

“Uh, what if I already have found someone…worthy enough?” You question, pressing a few buttons to get the dishwasher going.

“As if.”

“Chaeryeong, I’m serious.”

She sighs, still not buying your confession. “Alright then, who is it?”

“...Your brother.”

A beat of silence passes, and then Chaeryeong doubles over in laughter, nearly slipping off the counter several times in a matter of seconds. It takes her a minute to catch her breath, clutching her collar for support as she regulates her breathing; even tears are forming in her eyes. “Holy fuck, can you imagine? You and my brother? Jesus Christ.”

“Look, there isn’t an easy way to say this, but we really do like each other. We’ve been…together this whole summer. Well, not officially; I didn’t want to put a label on anything without talking to you about it first.” You finally confess. The weight on your shoulders doesn’t immediately drop as you expected; it’s like the load has gotten heavier.

Chaeryeong has a blank expression as she stares at you, eyes darting around the kitchen as she processes the information. “You’re serious?”

You nod.

She shakes her head, eyes closed as she asks,“What kind of friend are you? You’re that desperate for a boyfriend you go after the only boy you know? My brother?”

Fuck.

“Chaeryeong, please, let me—”

She cuts you off, hopping off the counter and inching towards you. “So, what? All this time, you were using me to get close to Heeseung? Out of every fucking guy on the planet? Ones that have spent years throwing themself at you?”

“No! Of course not! Chaeryeong, I never even imagined myself in a relationship with him until this summer, I swear!” Your voice trembles as Chaeryeong approaches you.

“Oh, really? You expect me to believe that, huh? So it’s just a coincidence that you guys suddenly got together right before we’re all gonna be living in the same building?”

“I know it doesn’t sound great, but—”

“I think you should go.” Chaeryeong cuts you off calmly, her sudden change in demeanor shocking you. A moment ago, she looked angry enough to hit you, but now, she seems a few seconds away from breaking down in tears.

You nod understandably, telling Chaeryeong to take all the time she needs and to call you when she’s ready to talk.

She doesn’t say a word as you exit her house, and you wonder if you’ve just lost the best friend you’ve ever had.

———

“I’ve never seen her this angry, Heeseung. I thought she was gonna hit me or something.” You groan, ear pressed up against your phone as you rant to Heeseung.

It's been a few hours since you left Chaeryeong’s house; Heeseung had promised to call you during his break to hear how the conversation went. You’re still shaking as the memories flood back to you, how your best friend in the world accused you of using her. What a fucking joke.

“She’ll get over it, trust me. Y’know, before I called you, she spent five minutes yelling at me over the phone. Five fucking minutes, and I just took it. She’ll be fine.” He says, following up with a loud slurping noise that suggests Heeseung has chosen to have ramen for lunch.

It’s astonishing how calm he’s managed to stay this entire time.

You flip over on the couch, head resting on the armrest as you stare at the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna lose her. She’s a fireball, for sure, but she’s my fireball. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“I just told you you’re not gonna be without her, okay?”

“...Okay.”

There’s a knock at your front door, most likely from the pizza delivery Heeseung had sent to your house.

“I gotta go. The food is here. Are you still stopping by after your shift?”

“Of course. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” you stand, making your way to the front door. “I’ll save you some pizza.”

He chuckles at that, “You better. I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

He what?

“You what?” You pause, hand on the doorknob.

“I love you, and I’ll see you later.” He hangs up.

You don’t have time to process his words; the knocking at your front door happens again.

Twisting the knob, you’re met with Chaeryeong staring back at you. “Chaeryeong? What’re you—”

“I don’t care if you date Heeseung.” She claims, storming through your front door, “If you guys want to be together, then I’m not standing in the way. But I will not be your friend if you date him, so it’s either him or me.”

You follow Chaeryeong into your living room, your pulse quickening upon hearing her ultimatum. “Chaeryeong, that’s not—”

“Before you choose…as a girl, and as your friend, I have to be completely honest with you.” She sighs, fingers nervously raking through her hair as she sits on your couch. “I called Heeseung after you left, and he talked to me about you guys.”

You nod, taking a seat next to her. “Okay, and…?”

She sighs again, taking your hand in her own. “Everything he’s ever told you was a lie.”

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

Good Boy- S.JY

𐂯 Sim Jaeyun x Fem reader

Synopsis: After moving back to your home town, you’re warmly welcomed by an old friend. He’s still the same friend he’s always been, except now he’s the owner of an adorable puppy hybrid.

WC: 3.7k

Warnings: Smut, puppy hybrid Jake, not a/b/o, cursing, etc

Smut warnings: !!!omo(piss)!!!, public humiliation, begging and crying, dom Jake but he’s desperate, spit/drool, dry humping, etc…

This is fiction and these scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are accurate in real life, MDNI!

A/N: I rewrote this three times and it was supposed to be posted two months ago…enjoy!

Jake has always loved having guests over, but you’ve by far been his favorite. He only met you about two weeks ago when you moved back into town and stopped by to greet Heeseung— Jake’s owner and your long time best friend.

The first time he met you he immediately noticed your scent. The sweet vanilla and honey aroma attacked his senses, his mouth watering almost instinctively like he’s prepared to sink his teeth into your flesh and mark you as his own.

“Jake! This is my best friend, she just moved back into town”. Heeseung’s voice interrupts Jake’s daydream, indirectly reminding him to pick up his slack jaw that was probably covered in drool by now. Heeseung motions towards you, one hand placed very lowly on your back, making its way to squeeze at your hip.

You smile at Jake, slowly walking up to him and extending your hand. He looks at it for a moment, then looks up at your face with big glossy eyes, then finally takes your hand in his own. His palm is warm, almost comforting as he gently shakes your hand.

“Nice to meet you, big boy”. Your voice is low and sultry, making Jake’s cheeks flush a deep shade of red. He looks away embarrassed, only for his eyes to find their way to Heeseung who has a smug look on his face.

You’re still smiling, only this time taking your hand out of Jake’s and instead reaching into the purse hanging off of your shoulder, turning back to him and muttering a quiet, “As a greeting gift.” You add a wink along with your words, handing Jake a well-sized bag of his favorite snack.

His ears perk up, tail shooting straight up and wagging, all while he has the pearliest smile on his face. “Enjoy.” You whisper to the pup, adding a wink along with a gentle head pat right between his ears. Heeseung joins you, ruffling Jake’s hair and walking past him towards the kitchen while he offers you a snack.

From that moment on, Jake has always anticipated the days you’d stop by, especially the days you’d bring gifts.

His favorite gift so far, was one you had gifted him not long after meeting.

It was Saturday, meaning Heeseung didn’t have work. So why was he gone so early in the morning? Sure, it was only 9am, but Jake knows how much Heeseung enjoys sleeping in at any given time. What is so important that Heeseung is choosing over his beloved sleep?

There’s only one answer, and it just so happens to be walking through his front door at the moment. Just like every other day, you enter his home next to Heeseung with a pearly white smile and that addictively sweet aroma.

“Hi, Jakey!” You slip your shoes off quickly before walking over to Jake. He stiffens, ears slightly dropping when you raise a hand to pat him on the head. Caught off guard, Jake doesn’t have time to hide his reaction to you petting him, and you see it. The way he slouches into himself with a shy smile, though his tail is wagging in excitement .

You, on the other hand, try to contain your fond smile as you watch Jake’s eyes glisten while your hand continues to pat his head, now smoothing down the soft fur on his ears.

His heart feels like it’s about to explode out of his chest when you lean down, face too close to his, and whisper, “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

He feels his stomach drop, a mix of fear and curiosity filling his tummy. “It’s outside. It’s too heavy for me to lift so would you be a good boy and bring it in yourself?” Your words leave Jake dizzy, mind on autopilot as he hops off of the couch and unlocks the front door, eyes widening when he spots the giant box.

Skeptical, Jake kicks the box a few times, cautious that you may be pulling some kind of prank on him. “It’s a gift, puppy, bring it inside.” You laugh through your words, noticing the way Jake seems hesitant.

With one big huff, Jake lifts the box and takes a few big steps leading him into the living room. He drops the box down with a grunt, blowing his bangs out of his face and wiping the sweat off of his neck.

“Go on.” You come to stand next to him, patting him on the shoulder softly. “Open it.”

Jake’s eyes narrow for a second, still not fully trusting that this isn’t just some big joke to you. Opening the box slowly, Jake questions your motives.

Why would you get him a gift anyway? It’s probably something tiny and useless that you put in this comically large box to trick him. Or it’s something embarrassing that Heeseung told you Jake was in need of, like potty training mats. Or, it’s nothing and you actually gave him this empty box to humiliate him. All thoughts in Jake’s head pause for a moment as he opens the box.

There’s no way you bought this for him. With his jaw hung loosely and heart clenching in his chest, he feels his eyes burn in warning of potential tears making their way to escape.

Inside the box holds the same shag material pet bed that is almost identical to the bed you had recently bought your own pet, but this one is the appropriate size for a hybrid.

“Do you like it?” Your voice is soft, almost comforting as you smile at him.

Jake doesn’t respond, instead diving straight into the box to take the bed out. He kicks the box out of the way, placing his bed in the middle of the living room where he throws himself onto it.

He lays there on his tummy, humming to himself as thoughts race through his mind. How would your body feel pressed against the soft material? How would his body feel underneath yours? Maybe you’ll stay the night and test out his new bed with him?

“Jake? Aren’t you forgetting something?” Heeseung’s voice pulls Jake away from his fantasies. Jake always forgets to say thank you after receiving a gift, he just gets too caught up in excitement.

Sitting up, Jake tilts his head, confused and cloudy minded. He clumsily makes his way to stand up, only for Heeseung to interrupt him again. “Actually…” Heeseung trails off, eyes darting to your face quickly before finding Jake’s. “I think you should go take that to your room now, uh, Jay’s coming over right now and I don’t want it to be in the way.” Heeseung speaks in a rushed tone, grabbing your arm and leading you to the kitchen.

Jake sits there, stunned and puzzled, wondering why Heeseung is acting different all of a sudden. Turning to pick up his new bed, Jake only bends slightly before noticing the heavy weight between his legs.

“Oh no.” Jake whispers to himself, swinging his bed around to cover his front in an attempt to hide the tent forming in his pants. Scurrying upstairs, he slams his bedroom door, locks it, then immediately tugs his jeans down to his ankles.

𐂯

After that incident, Jake always made sure he was careful and in control of his hormones, at least to the best of his hybrid ability. Although, he swears he can smell your aroma getting stronger, almost sweeter every time Jake just happens to get a little too excited.

He knows you’ll probably never see him in any way other than being a cute hybrid puppy, but he secretly hopes he’s not just smelling things, things like your arousal.

Today is another anticipated day, you and Heeseung planned a game night, and considering it’s already 9pm and freezing outside, you should be getting here any minute.

Hauling his fluffy bed off of the ground and over his shoulder, Jake carefully makes his way down the staircase and into the living room, whining to Heeseung. “Can I please keep this out here tonight? It’ll just be us three and God knows how long a round of Monopoly lasts.” Jake pouts, thick bottom lip glossy and puffy trying to convince Heeseung.

“Fine.”

“Yippee!”

Jake’s celebration is cut short when you ring the doorbell, his heart suddenly beating faster. “I’ll get it, you keep setting up the board.” Heeseung calls out to Jake, who whines in disagreement. “But I have to pee!” Jake cups his hands in front of himself, dancing on his toes while his bladder aches. “You can use the bathroom after.” With that, Heeseung skips to the door, opening it with a big smile and arms wide and greeting you with hug.

Jake hears your voice greeting Heeseung, then the sound of your giggles when his owner complains that he hasn’t seen you in so long and he can’t last a week without seeing you, all while the poor puppy’s hands shake in excitement as he sorts out Monopoly money.

Your scent immediately fills the house, Jake’s ears twitching and his tail wagging subconsciously, thumping against the hard floor in a fast rhythm. He finishes setting up the game board, then runs over to greet you at the door.

All thoughts leave his mind when he stops in front of you, your eyes leave Heeseung’s figure and find Jake.

Sure, it’s only been a week since he last seen you, but that is one week too long and he’s been waiting so patiently, he just can’t help himself.

Bouncing on his toes, he lunges forward and clings onto your smaller frame, pulling you down onto the couch with him.

“I missed you so so much and I’ve been so good waiting for you!” Jake’s praise towards himself makes you laugh, your body relaxing under his for a second until he finally stands up, still bouncing off the walls.

“I missed you too, puppy- oh!” You pause, eyes widening and mouth falling open, speechless.

Jake struggles to stand still, a confused pout finding his lips, waiting for you to keep talking. Expecting you to keep swooning over him, his mind starts racing until he feels the warm wetness engulfing the crotch of his pants and trailing down his leg.

Heeseung takes a few steps towards the couch, his own feet frozen in place when he notices the wet spot on Jake’s blue jeans. “Oh, Jake…” Heeseung sounds concerned, his voice soft and almost comforting.

Jake finally looks down, feeling humiliated at the sight of his drenched jeans, his own piss darkening the fabric of the crotch and down the length of his right leg.

How embarrassing, he thinks to himself, how stupid could he have been to literally pee himself out of excitement, especially in front of you?

“You should go clean that up.” Heeseung speaks again, coming to stand in front of your body to hide Jake from your view. Jake only nods, gulping down his embarrassment as he slowly waddles to the bathroom.

Except he slows down when your scent catches his attention again, only this time it’s stronger, sweeter, and he feels half of his blood rush to his head while the rest rushes between his legs. He turns back to look at you, noting the way you’re already looking at him, at the mess he made of himself.

Slightly embarrassed, incredibly arousing.

𐂯

Jake hasn’t seen you in two weeks— that’s a new record. Since his accident last time, he’s only heard your voice over speaker phone when you talk to Heeseung, or he’ll catch a glimpse of your smile when the call switches over to FaceTime.

He knows it’s because of what happened, and he knows Heeseung feels embarrassed for him, possibly even more than Jake does himself. Yeah it was embarrassing, but that’s what made it so arousing.

It’s not every day Jake turns someone on by accidently peeing himself, it’s never actually. And that’s what makes it so exciting, he embarrassed himself and you liked it. So much that he could smell the way your slick dripped out almost instantly.

He huffs to himself, running his hands through his hair a few times until he settles on a reflection he likes. Or a reflection you would like. After these two agonizingly slow weeks, you and Heeseung’s other friends, Jay and Sunghoon, have decided to celebrate—something about Sunghoon landing a new high paying job.

Whatever it is, Jake doesn’t care. All he cares about is you, more specifically seeing you try to avoid eye contact and pretend like you didn’t leave a puddle of arousal on the couch cushion when you left the other night.

Finally finishing up his look, he exits his room at the exact same time Jay and Sunghoon push open the front door. His ears perk up, butterflies fluttering in his stomach when he realizes you might be with them.

Except you’re not, and you don’t show up after 30 minutes of the other guys drinking and playing video games. They try making conversation with Jake but all he does is slouch further into the couch, the same spot you sat weeks ago. You don’t show up for 30 more minutes, Jake’s heart slightly aching at the thought of you changing your mind, and it hurts more at the idea of you avoiding him.

He’s not hurt for long tho, as the sound of a car pulling into the drive way and turning off brings him back to life. His ears stand at full alert, his butt almost hovering off of the couch as he anticipates your arrival.

When the doorbell finally rings, he’s the first one to spring up, practically running to swing open the front door, only to come crumbling into himself when he finds only the food delivery guy standing with his hands full of takeout bags.

Jake groans, lazily grabbing the bags of food from the man and goes to close the door—stopping when the delivery guy leaves and you appear right behind him.

“Hi, Jakey!” The puppy feels like he could faint, his heart beating rapidly and his eyes nearly going crossed at the sight of you stepping into his home.

You take it upon yourself to close the front door and grab the delivery bags out of Jake’s frozen hands, giggling to yourself when the other three men throw complaints towards Jake, saying he’s taking too long with the food. He just stands still, blinking once, then twice, then finally his bones nearly burst out of his body with the way he jumps at you, this time picking you up and spinning you around.

You cling onto him, your smile wide and painful. He lets you down gently, almost drooling at the way you look at him after so long. “I take it you mised me…” your voice is teasing but Jake doesn’t care at this point, not when he feels the warm liquid running down his thigh and staining his jeans once again.

Unlike last time, he stairs into your eyes, relaxing his body and allowing himself to empty his bladder in full confidence.

You gasp, standing straight up and glancing over towards your friends. Heeseung is the first to notice, his own body going stiff before he sighs and runs a hand over his face. That brings Jay and Sunghoon’s attention towards you, and they both drop their jaws in shock.

“Dude…”

“Jake…”

Feeling a little embarrassed but entirely horny, Jake waddles up the stairs awkwardly, understanding that there’s a routine now when he makes his way towards the bathroom to take a shower.

“He’s never done that before…has he?” Jay still stands frozen in shock, throat dry from how long he stood with his mouth open. Heeseung just shakes his head in response. “Once, the last time she came over.”

Sunghoon guffaws, looking at you with tears of laughter in his eyes. “Do you seriously make him piss himself?” His slightly question offends you, and you scoff out at him. “I don’t make him do that, he just does it! Maybe he can’t help it…” You know he probably can help it, but you’d rather stay on the safe side and defend him anyways.

“I better go check on him…make sure he’s not embarrassed or anything.” You know your excuse is weak, but you ignore whatever comments are made when you turn your back to your friends and walk up the stairs.

You arrive, taking note of the silence on the other side of the door. He should be showering by now, but with your ear pressed up against the door you hear nothing. You bring your first to knock at the door, but before you can make contact with the wood, your arm is being tugged and you’re pulled into another room.

Your butt lands onto something soft, and you look down to see the soft pet bed you had gifted to Jake. Looking up, your eyes trail up the frame in front of you until they reach Jake’s face. He looks confident, horny, and maybe even a little annoyed.

“Jake…are you-“ He cuts you off, grabbing your cheeks softy with one hand, forcing your lips into a pout, while his other hand holds him up so he can lean down just an inch away from your face.

His eyes meet yours, then travel down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “I’ve wanted you for months.” He spits, slight aggression laced in his words. “I’ve been suffering, watching you sit around with Heeseung like you belong to him, like you don’t belong to me.”

Sure, it’s a little scary how possessive Jake is towards you, considering you’ve never spoken about anything even slightly related to what’s happening now. Yet you’re not complaining.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve touched myself here.” He looks down at his bed, noticing the way one of your hands plays nervously with the soft fur. “I think about the day you gifted me this so often…always so grateful.”

You gulp, eyes blinking slowly, mind hazy with lust. “Then show me.” You whisper, barely having time to think before his lips slam onto yours.

His kisses are bruising, the grip he has on your face worse. It aches when he lets go, instead grabbing your shoulders and turning you to lay on your stomach. You feel him climb on top of you, the hard bulge he offers presses against your butt.

He grabs your chin, bringing you to lay one side of your face onto the bed while he leans over you awkwardly, shoving his tongue into your mouth with no warning. You moan when he slides his tongue against yours, it’s warm and messy but you don’t care when he feels so desperate rutting against you.

“So dirty.” He groans against your lips, referring to the way he’s grinding against you, still in the jeans he pissed himself in just ten minutes before. “But I know you like it.” He ends his sentence with another kiss, almost drooling into your own mouth like he can’t help it.

He can’t help most things, the way he drools, his own bladder, and certainly not the way he feels about you. Sure you make him incredibly horny but you also make his heart ache and he silently wishes he went about his feelings another way.

But he couldn’t care less with the way you arch against him, your ass perking up and meeting his hips with each roll and sway. “So fucking nasty.” He kisses down your cheek, your jawline, and finally your neck where he presses his nose against the sweetest spot he can find. He whimpers, completely falling apart at your aroma and body moving with his.

“Please…please it hurts.” You whine, pressing against him harder, bringing one leg higher so he can really grind against the wet patch between your legs. It doesn’t feel quite right though, so he grabs the waistband of your bottoms and harshly pulls them off of your legs.

He snarls, biting and sucking at your neck then licking to soothe the pain. “Yeah? It hurts?” He grinds harder, the hand that’s not holding himself up grips your now naked thigh, pulling it impossibly higher so your shin now rests against his own thigh.

Your legs are tangled and twisted uncomfortably, but the pleasure feels too good to even care, the knot in your stomach aching and feeling too sensitive to last much longer. “I’m close, puppy.”

“Call me that again.” He whines this time, his body begging with each roll of his hips. “Puppy-hnng!” He somehow presses harder, almost painfully when his soaked jeans rub against your wet heat, only covered by your thin panties.

He pants against your ear, humping against you embarrassingly fast, his demeanor switching completely. “God—I’m gonna cum.” He bites your neck again, humming at the metallic taste his canine teeth draw from your skin. “Yes, yes puppy, cum with me.” Your eyes water, the pleasure too much to handle as his bulge rubs back and forth against your puffy clit.

He moans, groans, and whimpers the most pathetic noises until he finally releases, his breath hitching before he lets out the loudest cry as long spurts of cum ruin his already messy jeans.

His noises push you to the edge, letting the knot in your stomach come undone and release your own orgasm, clenching around nothing but continuing to grind back onto Jake’s sensitive cock.

No man has ever made you cum from dry humping, and you think maybe you might only need Jake from now on. Your core aches, still humping and throwing yourself back against Jake until he whines from overstimulation, gripping your waist to keep you pinned against his fluffy bed.

He drops himself against you, eyes closing and breathing heavily against your ear. It’s warm and comforting, almost enough to fall asleep underneath him if it wasn’t for the sticky mess in your underwear.

“So…” you whisper, giggling when he kisses your cheek to let you know he’s listening, “round two in the shower?”

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

If there was a fanfiction literature award I think drunkhazed would take the prize home

Epilogue: Dear Lord When I Get To Heaven Please Let Me Bring My Man (p. sh, l. hs)

banner credit: @simpjaes🩷

pairing. step-brother sunghoon x female reader x step-brother heeseung

genre. I Would Give Up Heaven If I Had To.. AU, pwp, M/F, heavy on the angst in this one, fluff💀

warnings. morally grey characterizations(mostly Sunghoon), profanity, toxicity, sibling rivalry, mommy issues, daddy issues, anxiety/depression, Phantom of The Opera references, death, time jumps, pregnancy, no smut warnings *gasp*. minors DNI.

wc. 16.8k+

now playing. Young & Beautiful//Lana Del Rey

for @ncdeeh, the biggest fan of this series out there🖤

———————————-

Germany. 

It feels like a movie when you arrive and get off of the train. Smoke blows around, different accents sing through the air, and your breath visibly shudders in front of your face.

Heeseung’s cheeks deepen with color, he insists on carrying your bags. He knows you’re still in some state of shock, too stunned by everything that has unraveled in the last 48 hours.

“The hotel my dad booked us isn’t too far from here, I’ll order a cab for us.” He nods, directing you to follow him.

Innate instinct takes over, it’s time for him to be a man. To embody the role his father has the past few years of his life. He needs to serve and protect you now, because would you really be running off if not for him? Is he not partially to be blamed for drastically altering your life?

“We’ll only be here for a couple of weeks, then we can head back to France if you want. My dad said he’d cover everything.” Heeseung is really trying to make this as easy as possible for you. Maybe he’s feeling more guilty than he anticipated, especially after seeing your solemn expression.

“Yesterday was so fucked up.” You barely mutter, throwing yourself onto the hotel bed. “Can’t believe I did that.”

“We don’t have to talk about it.” In fact, he’d prefer not to… 

“I feel like such an awful person right now.”

You shouldn’t, given Sunghoon’s track record but this isn’t you. You would never go out of your way to use your body to manipulate and hurt someone this way..

“Don’t worry about it, alright? You don’t need to worry about me forgiving you. It’s like it never happened.” Heeseung grabs a hold of your hand, smiling softly. “Today’s a new day.”

Worry about forgiveness? Forgiveness for what. You contemplate asking, opening your mouth only to receive a gentle kiss. His lips pressed to yours with a tinge of fear. He’s afraid, probably as scared as you are.

“We need to talk Hee,” you shove at his shoulder, sitting back up. “About your mom, Jian, even Miyeon.. I don’t know, I feel so unsettled.”

“Whatever you want to know, I’m an open book for you.”

And you talked, for hours and hours. Ordered room service as you paced around the hotel room and delved deeper into his life. Picking up the small hints and marks of Sunghoon scattered throughout each memory and story. Late into the night you wore each other down to an empty bottle once full of emotions.

Heeseung cried, told you everything. How his mother offered him his first drink. He fought tooth and nail to make her stay home, to stop entering the local bars and waste her life away. She was never the same after the divorce, never explaining to him why or how it happened. She couldn’t after some time, couldn’t speak more than slurred speech, could barely keep her eyes open for longer than a few hours.

“My brother was jealous of that.” He nods, interlocking his fingers. “He has no idea that I was living through my own personal hell. I was living with a fragment of who my mother once was, by the end.. that wasn’t her. She would call me by my dad’s name a lot, yell at me, throw all types of insults at me.”

The more you listened, the more your heart broke. Sunghoon had no one, and Heeseung didn’t either. They could have at least had each other..

“My grandparents were too old, tired. Grandma was showing signs of early dementia and grandpa could hardly walk without hurting himself.” Heavy pain laces his tone, blinking back tears without looking at you. Not wanting to see the pity or hurt on your face for him. “Mom died in my arms, at the hospital. I didn’t want it to be real, sometimes the memory hits me out of nowhere and I feel so empty. I feel as useless as my dad says I am.”

There’s nothing to be said after he spills his soul wide open for you. Everything makes sense, the jealousy between him and Sunghoon. The unspoken truth that neither of them could even begin to see past their blind hatred for each other. 

“He’s right, I should have done more.” Heeseung trembles, failing to fight his tears any longer. They roll down to his chin, shaking off with the chatter of his teeth. “I should have helped her somehow.”

“You were a kid.” You try to help, knowing this is above your capabilities. You hold him, clean his tears, scratch through his scalp, and he lets it all out. Every fear, every thought that plagues hik, the root of his pain that started the day his parents tore apart their family. 

“I wanted to be above this, try to have a normal life when I moved back home to live with my dad.” He sighs, sinking deeper into your hold. “He hates me. Maybe I remind him too much of her.”

Even the richest of rich shouldn’t always have kids, even if they are more than able to afford to. Mr. Park clearly had a detachment from his sons, most especially Heeseung..

“I told you, he wanted me to ask Miyeon out first. I don’t know why Sunghoon took that bullet for me. I kind of hoped that it was because he doesn’t hate me, but after this..”

“I think if he knew everything, he would have never put you through all of this again Hee. Not that he deserves an excuse, but I want to believe your brother isn’t actually as evil as he wants us to perceive.”

“I hope he’s not.” Heeseung stares off into the void, sniffling. “If only because I still feel bad, that he grew up without us. Especially after living with my dad again, he’s such an emotionless prick.. it’s no wonder my brother always made fun of me when I’d cry. Moving back home without my mom was hard for me. I felt like a stranger in my own house, as if I didn’t belong there.”

Nothing can excuse Sunghoon’s behavior and actions of course, even if you questioned everyday what his experience was living alone with Mr. Park throughout his primitive years. How did all of that time without a motherly figure alter his life? The way he thinks? That stone cold heart of his you’d come to know. 

How could the two of them be so different and yet the same. Heeseung who handled his feelings by expressing his emotion and pain, never scared to shed a tear. Who would lay his head on your lap and kindly ask you to hold him, to stroke his hair the way his mother used to. Who walks around with the open wound in his heart proudly displayed.

Sunghoon, for the little amount of time you had him in your life, he couldn’t do the same. Couldn’t bring himself to open up, to tell you how he really feels. He held back, masked his feelings with anger and harshness; a shield, really. He needed someone to be there for him, to help him understand himself..

And as you lived your life and settle into your loft in Paris, you slowly let those thoughts get to you. Each day he crossed your mind, and you shoved those thoughts down deeper, kicking dirt over the growing pile to keep them buried alive. You could not feel guilty nor sorry for him, or you’d break.

Many nights came and went by staring at his name in your list of contacts, blocked by his brother the day you got on a train to get away from him. You knew that reaching out to him would only lead to your demise, because maybe when Heeseung kisses you, you shut your eyes and can taste Sunghoon’s lips.

Maybe you have to bite down on your tongue to not moan his name. Maybe when you’re extra tired, you swear that your boyfriend resembles him too much, that you can almost picture him being the one walking through the front door of your loft. 

Maybe you can’t stop yourself from imagining the other side of the coin, how everything could have gone if you had given Sunghoon a chance.

And despite how perfect your relationship has been, you can’t ward away those curiosities. Can’t fight your mind when you shut your eyes and begin to count the different beauty marks dotted around Sunghoon’s face. 

You try to ignore those thoughts, to replace them with only new memories of Heeseung, but maybe you give up one day.

Maybe you allow the fantasy of what could have been to infiltrate your head, and maybe you enjoy it more than you are willing to admit.

———————————-

~one year later~

Three hundred and sixty-five days to be exact. But who’s keeping count? 

Sunghoon is. He bought a physical calendar at the airport before flying back home with your mother and father. 

That flight had really been excruciating for him. The one upside is that the seats next to him were originally reserved for you and his brother. He could at least wallow in his misery alone. 

And he did, for a few hours at first. The long flight home spanned for over half of a day and time ticked by more slowly than usual. He tried to read, paid for the wifi to use and distracted himself with some games, browsed through the movies the airline had to offer. Nothing could stop his mind from racing, stuck in the idea of you.

Because that’s all this was right? The idea of you.

That idea that you could fix him, because maybe that’s what he wants. He wants to be fixed. Sunghoon knows all of his social problems, his dad didn’t pay for an overpriced therapist for nothing. After the divorce, he hadn’t handled the situation so great. 

Mr. Park had never wanted to be a father, he was very successful straight out of university after earning his degree rather fast thanks to his own father’s name. Generational wealth had done its due diligence to breeze him through the educational system. The last thing he wanted was to share the money consistently expanding in his bank account with children and a wife. Not when he was having a blast playboying around from country to country on private jets, schmoozed and bribed with free luxury alcohol, grand dining experiences only ever allowed for the wealthy and famous.

His father, Sunghoon’s grandfather, had other plans in mind for him. That's where his mother came in. She was an intern at his grandfather’s company, a girl with a squeaky clean reputation. He set them up on a date, insisting that his son lock in a wife before he cut him out of his will. Growing tired and furious with each new headline of his son out and about partying with celebrities.

It was time for him to get serious. That's business, investors would take him more seriously as a family man as opposed to some messy international playboy. 

So, he got married. 

Was he in love? No, absolutely not. But then along came the birth of first son Heeseung and he had no choice but to accept his title as a wed father. This was his new life.

A miserable life of work, countless business trips, screaming baby cries keeping him up all throughout the night, and a nagging wife constantly accusing him of cheating. 

Things were bleak compared to his world only a year prior, and then Sunghoon came along and everything only seemed to grow worse with time.

The boys—his boys, had no way of knowing and understanding their parents' unhappy marriage. They were given every toy, playset, console, and every shiny new expensive device on the market without question. 

Sunghoon had always been closer to his mother given his father’s packed schedule. He loved her, always lit up and giggled when she’d pick him up from school and ask about his day. He can still remember the scent of her perfume, soft and sweet like a batch of fresh cookies. Her loving hands would pinch his cheeks, hoist him up onto her hip until he became too large to do so.

They’d chat for hours into the evening after school, all about his day, what activities he did in class. Any new friends he made, helping him to complete his homework. Heeseung would usually whine for dinner first, rubbing his stomach with big eyes directed at their mother. She really really never failed to show them how much she loved them both.

That’s what hurt and confused him the most for years after the last time he saw her. His father dragged him away from her at the airport, and he kicked, he screamed, he cried and threw a tantrum. 

‘That is enough Sunghoon.’ His dad said to him firmly, gripping his shoulders and standing him back onto his feet. ‘No son of mine will embarrass this way.’

He was a kid, not even a teenager yet. Dealing with an explosion of raging hormones while losing his mom and brother. None of it seemed fair, and he cried, he cried for months, for over a year. Screamed at by his father in return, the only parent he had left to care for him. He would throw money at Sunghoon, tell him to wipe his face and go buy himself something to cheer up. That was always his answer to dealing with his overly emotional distressed son.

He tried to keep in touch with Heeseung, but his dad forbade it. Didn’t want him to be influenced by his siblings' new life or manipulated by whatever false narratives his mother would be likely to create. 

After a good year of dropping his grades, teachers contacting his father full of concern, and a son that barely opened his mouth to speak, Mr. Park slid a pamphlet across the dinner table.

‘Therapy, son.’ He cleared his throat, setting down his fork to sip his glass of wine. ‘It’s high time you grow up and become a man. No son of mine will enter high school with below average grades. I have expectations of you.’

Therapy. That was his father’s next plan to fix his broken heart. To grant him emotional relief of all his pain. 

It helped, at first, to understand why he feels what he feels. Why he acts out the way he does, why he hurts so deeply, why he can’t fathom having hope.

It worked until it didn’t. 

Maybe Sunghoon had reached a certain point of maturity that snapped his mind out of his misery. Maybe he never let it go, maybe it became a part of him. One with his misery, embracing it and not allowing it to ruin his life anymore.

‘I don’t think I need this anymore.’ He told his therapist after two years with a thin smile on his face. 

He tried to talk him out of canceling his future sessions, tried to explain that this was more beneficial for him than he realized but Sunghoon had opted for another form of therapy. 

Years of being spoiled instead of nurtured and loved by his parents led him to sports. He took up weight training. Started to see his arms build muscle, the lines in his stomach grow deeper, his stamina strengthened. 

His depressed thoughts lessened by the dayc more focused on how built and lean he could get. Visiting a trainer and nutritionist to change up his diet to nothing but protein to make him stronger, bigger, more intimidating.

His dad couldn’t call him weak anymore. In fact, Sunghoon hasn’t cried a day ever since he cut off his therapist. That damn croc of shit tried to get him on a prozac prescription, often spoke of stronger antidepressants.

He didn’t need any of that bullshit.

No.

Sunghoon knows exactly what he needs. 

Three hundred and sixty-five days and he hasn’t missed one gym session. It’s the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up. Craves the burn in his muscle, the pain and soreness he experiences after. He needs to lick off the sweat that lines his upper lip, shake off any before it can reach his eyes and clump his dark eyelashes together. 

He’s been working out like a maniac ever since that fucking family vacation. Spending countless hours in the basement gym his father and your mom never step foot inside of. They’re hardly ever home anyway, too busy frolicking around traveling the world in luxury.

He can’t complain, except for days such as today when he enters the kitchen to make himself a protein shake and his step-mother beams the largest smile at him.

“Sunghoon! Come say hi!”

“Oh mom, no please, I really have to go. I’ll be late for class!” The line cuts immediately after before he can even answer your mother.

It’s always the same, you always have to go. You’re busy, your connections bad, you have plans with Heeseung. 

“Aw shoot.” Your mom sighs, closing her ipad. “Next time.” She gives him a wary smile on her way out of the kitchen. 

There is no next time, you’ve successfully avoided him for a fucking year now. His brother never contacts him, the texts he tried to send you bounce back, his phone calls never go through. He tried at first to contact you somehow, emails, embarrassing phone calls attempted in the middle of the night when he knew you’d be awake given the time difference. Even fucking carrier pigeon would be a useless option.

You obviously want nothing to do with him. Both of your parents are too oblivious to understand the amount of effort his own fucking brother has made to avoid speaking with him. How neither if you ever ask about him, how he’s been, if he’s healthy.

Sometimes it hurts when he allows his mind to drift deep enough into those thoughts. That’s when he really takes it out on the gym punching bag. Lunging his shoulder so hard into it one day that he had to wear a sling for the rest of the week. 

It’s times like this he wishes he could be anywhere but here. That he could get away and go back to a safe place that felt more like home than whatever this bullshit is. Days like this stir up old memories of his mother, how she would cradle him and read him bedtime stories. How she carefully held his hand while grocery shopping even though she had to bend at her waist to do so and strain her back.

How he never got to say goodbye to her. Has never even visited her grave. He never got answers, how could she so easily abandon one of her kids. Maybe she never loved him..

And now he asks himself different questions, about another woman he thought, perhaps even hoped, could love him. Was he a fool to believe that you might actually have feelings for him? Fuck if you didn’t play with his emotions and mess with his head enough.

He let you, he let you dog walk him like a fucking idiot. It hurts of course, especially when he’s laid in bed and can’t sleep a wink even after tiring himself out with some midnight cardio. He stares at the ceiling, ponders the time he spent with you. How much you changed and unraveled right before his eyes.

It’s not that he wants to have feelings for you. The truth is, he gave his father an ultimatum for the first time in his life. He’d finish school, collect his degree, and run whatever fucking sector his dad needed his face plastered across as the CEO. Young Sunghoon Park, the next generation of power. 

But he did not want to continue his fraudulent relationship with Miyeon any longer, he refused to fall down that same path his dad had. To grow old with someone who only stayed with him by force. 

Needless to say his father was disappointed, of course. The old man reprimanded him and argued about what a waste of time it’s been to build a relationship with Miyeon’s father to merge their companies. The real end goal was really to take down his competitors and buy them out, not merge shit. Sunghoon held his guard, he relented and stuck to his word.

He’d be his father’s working bitch, work harder than any asshole that graduated from Harvard and Yale, but the decision of his future wife would be his own. The one thing his dad could no longer have control over- the mother of his children, his partner, the woman he’d walk down the aisle towards.

He hadn’t thought too deeply on the matter until you came into his life and turned his world upside down. 

He never felt an emotional tie to Miyeon even when they began dating. They tried at first, too young to comprehend why they were being made to meet up at Dave N Busters with limitless funds to play games all night and order as many fries as they could manage to eat. She had let him know real quick that he simply wasn’t her type.

‘Pretty boys like you do nothing for me.’ 

And if he was being honest, she didn’t quite spark his desires despite her good looks and charm. They got along better as friends and made a pact to continue on with their relationship to keep their parents equally satisfied.

‘My father keeps dragging me to these business ventures to meet his colleagues' sons. I need my weekends back.’

Their agreement worked out great for both of them. Sunghoon would use those alleged dates with Miyeon to hit up parties and clubs. He started to gain a reputation around campus for having a great body and an insatiable need to fuck like a beast. With his dad remaining none the wiser to his weekend escapades, he felt as if life couldn’t get any better.

And then you came along. You showed up and gummed up the works. 

It’s hard to say if Heeseung really saw you first, not that he can stake claim off a look.. but Sunghoon knows that he wanted you first. It’s possible he had only planned to add you to the enormous growing list of girls he had conquered in just the past year. Maybe he just wanted to fuck you to say that he did. To soothe his raging ego with the knowledge that he can and will always get what he wants.

It was too easy really, you needed a tutor. And if Sunghoon knew how to do anything, it’s to pass a class with the highest scores and grades. He wasn’t valedictorian for nothing. Years of his father talking down to him about failing Physical Education of all classes after the split with his mother never allowed him to hit that low again. He studied and worked his ass off day and night to earn better grades, to be the teacher's favorite, to get a spot on the dean’s list.

Sunghoon hadn’t planned to keep fucking you. A few times maybe, for fun, to piss his dad off even if he never found out. But when he heard you inside of Heeseung’s bedroom..

When he saw the way the two of you looked at each other. When his older brother swept you away and off your feet cosplaying as some fucking humble prince to help you escape from an awkward first meeting with Miyeon; that—that pissed Sunghoon off.

Not Heeseung who also forgot about him for years, who got to live with the one parent they had that could give a fuck about either of them. That likely came home after school to home cooked meals. He’s sure their mother still brushed his hair even as a teenager. Still woke up the house on Sunday mornings loudly singing along to her favorite songs as a teenager. That motherfucker really had the audacity to portray himself as a saint in front of you.

And that truly made his blood boil. For a moment, no more than a few seconds.. he felt a tinge of jealousy.

Not only did Heeseung get to have their mother’s love in the end, but he was also going to have you.

Call him a monster for reacting the way that he did, but seeing his brother happy for the first time since he’d moved back in with their father; that made his blood pressure spike. 

Why should Heeseung have it so fucking easy?! Why does everything work out for him?? Sunghoon’s sick of it, he’s been sick of that waste of space moping around the house. Taking up time in the living room playing his stupid fucking video games, never even bothering to ask him if he’d want to join him.

Not that he would, never wanting to hold a conversation with that moron he’s forced to call his sibling. His feelings may have been superficial, greedy and childish.. at first, but maybe that’s why he never fucked a random hook-up more than a handful of times. He never permitted himself to grow attached, to release those emotions that could weaken him. He tried so hard to protect the vulnerable shattered boy that grew without love, that he nearly forgot he even once existed.

That’s why this has hurt more than anything he’s felt in years. Because he hasn’t been able to feel. He hasn’t poured anything from his cup in so long that just one splash spilling out was enough to leave him empty.

He finds himself alone in the gym again. Glancing around at everything he’s left in place. The way his equipment shines thanks to the maids that clean up around here. How his mini-fridge stays stocked with energy drinks and electrolytes without him being required to lift a finger.

Easy. Such an easy life. Why would he ever want to leave this? Why would anyone.

Would you have ran off to Germany if not for him? Would you have stayed with Heeseung all of this time if he had just let you be? Thousands of questions with no answer swarm his thoughts when he zones out deep enough. A good vigorous workout can typically cure that, grunting through the burning pain that shoots up his back and arms. 

Sweat pours and he twists side to side to spray the droplets away from his eyes. Too fearful of ever catching himself in the mirror again with any type of wetness rimmed so close to his iris. The one time he did had him dropping to his knees, scrubbing a small towel at his face until his skin turned an angry red and not one bit of sweat remained.

Crying is for weak little bitches like his older brother. Always crying to get his way instead of putting up a fight.

Hearing your voice today for only a few seconds, the line beeping when you ended the call.. the thought wrinkles his eyebrows, burns inside of his nostrils. Twitching his nose to make that feeling go away, that hallowing in his chest. Not even a year apart had softened you? These days of nothing, you weren’t at all curious?

Pain. Pain squeezed at his lungs. Subsiding it as over exerting himself by lifting weights that are too heavy. He drops them abruptly and goes to chug water. Dragging a towel across his forehead, leaving his hair sticking up in different directions. 

Heartless, a heartless girl with no compassion. Unless his brother had really manipulated you to act this way.. he had his suspicions. That Heeseung had fucked you up as much as himself.. took advantage of the sweet soul he’d come to know. Refusing to believe that what you shared had meant nothing..

It certainly hadn’t meant nothing to Sunghoon. He tried to fuck other girls, even went on dates and forced a smile on his face through each boring one. He couldn’t forget you, everything around him led back to the memory of you.

Perhaps even who he wanted you to be for him.. and time and time again he failed to convince himself that this was your choice. That you chose his brother..

There was just no way.

Sunghoon came to workout to get away from his mind. To shut you off for an hour or so. He can’t deal with this right now. Why did you mom have to be on a video call with you right now?!

Stomping over to the ipad, he scrolls through different playlists in search of something to blast the echo of your voice away. Something obnoxiously loud to drown out his mind.

He should have hit shuffle and gone back to his reps. The universe couldn’t taunt him any harder as your name shows up in bold letters on the screen, recommending him a playlist you must have saved on here when you’d use his gym.

He would have deleted it by now if he had noticed, and he should. He should tap the screen to remove your shitty playlist for good. But he doesn’t, he hits play instead and the room floods with your screamy tortured emo crap. This woe is me wah wah wah music that you and his brother bonded over. Teenage angst at it’s finest as some grown man wails through his sound system and his hands fall limp to his sides. It’s the same shit he’d hear coming from your now unlived in bedroom. The muffled guitar from your headphones. 

Why didn’t he just hit delete? Now he can’t stop his nostrils from flaring, his teeth gritting together, the tremble running down his forearms to his hands.

It’s been so long since Sunghoon last shed a tear. It happened last on that flight while he sat alone, about six hours up in the air. He put on some cheesy romcom movie to watch, fully expecting to fall asleep 10-15 minutes in. He should have chosen something else, of course he landed on some ridiculous movie with a love triangle plot.

‘I like you just the way you are.’

Sunghoon had to hit pause, fighting the tears filling up his eyes as he struggled to not blink. If he blinks, the one singular tear dangling near the corner will spill down his cheek. He’ll have shed an actual fucking tear. 

Stupid fucking Bridget Jones Diary, he’ll never watch this crap again! Instead he shut off the movie and dabbed away the tear that managed to get past his cold will. No one saw that happen anyway, only he has to know that some sappy romance film brought him to tears.

That won’t happen again. Except that when he landed and finally got home, took a shower and laid in bed; he couldn’t stop thinking about that dumb movie. Who did Bridget fucking pick?!? She couldn’t have chosen that asshole Daniel Cleaver..

Not after Mark Darcy told her he liked her embarrassing ass just the way she is. He threw a fit that night learning that there was 3 Goddamn movies he’d have to get through to find out who this woman ends up with. Not a wink of sleep was had that night as he sat at his computer and found streams of each one go watch in order from start to end.

Sunghoon.. Sunghoon couldn’t stop repeating that line. 

‘I like you just the way you are.’ What a load of shit..

Maybe his heart tightened and his pulse slowed down for a minute, everything on the plane went still, his ears popped, and he felt something he didn’t believe to be possible..

Love.

This has to be why girls watch this crap.. 

What he would give up to be liked just the way he is. That’s how you made him feel, accepted. You saw his darkness and still let him in. That cut him deeper than anything. Losing you to his brother hardly mattered compared to the thought that you accepted him, you liked him for exactly who he is without needing change..

“Stupid stupid stupid.” He slaps at his skull, crouching down by the speaker to tuck his chest into his knees and take shallow breaths. He chose to ignore these panic attacks and nights without sleep, lying to himself that he’s fine. He’s completely fine. That these unanswered questions and intrusive thoughts don’t consume him. That he doesn’t scream in the shower and punch at the tile out of anger, frustration and deep pain that he continues to shove down.

Taking a few minutes to shut off his kind and recuperate himself, he drags his weight up by gripping onto the speaker stand. Slamming his palm down to power off the machine before anymore of your playlist can shake the gym walls and stab the knife lodged in his chest even deeper.

He limps slowly to sit properly, patting around his sweats for his phone. Taking another minute to catch his breath he unlocks the device and searches through his contacts to make a phone call.

“Hello?”

“Yeah.” He licks at his dried lips, rubbing his chest to help his breathing return to normal.

“Sunghoon? What’s going on?”

“Miyeon, I need to see you.”

———————————-

“You look like shit.” 

“Thanks.” Sunghoon opens the front door wide for Miyeon, ushering her in toward the living room. His parents aren’t home meaning he won’t have to deal with his father’s pestering questions or wishes of them getting back together. That’s not why she’s here.

Miyeon’s as pretty as ever, her hair shines and bounces as she walks. The scent of sweet cotton candy trails behind her, and her mini-skirt flicks up with each step she takes ahead of him. She’s beautiful, she always has been, and still he feels nothing for her.

“Alright, what was so urgent that you needed me to weasel my way out of the annual tennis finals at the country club? My dad’s not happy.” She huffs, smirking and rolling her eyes. “Not that I’ve loved spending my summer paraded around a bunch of rich spoiled frat boys.”

“How’s your boyfriend?” Sunghoon asks, sitting down next to her.

“Sad, he misses me.” She pouts. “I miss him more.”

“And when will you tell your father about him?”

Miyeon’s lips tighten, hiding a grin. “When will you tell your father that you left me for your step-sister?”

Of course Sunghoon told her, he had to. He had to tell someone and in many ways, Miyeon may be his only friend. It wasn’t easy but he needed someone to understand, to reassure him that he’s not going insane. 

‘You can’t possibly be losing your mind Hoon, you never had it to begin with.’ 

She wasn’t the best of help, but she listened, and she told him that he’s a freak. But a valid freak nonetheless.

“I can’t tell him.” Sunghoon nods, nervously playing with his hands. “Haven’t been on his good side ever since I told him that we broke things off. He’s been on my ass about internships and school. Nepotism must skip a generation.”

“You’re going to inherit his company, don’t be so crass. It’s unbecoming, tarnishing your cold stoic vampiresque image.” She teases, flicking his chin. “You’re definitely a shell of the man I knew. She did a real number on you.”

He hates that she’s right. He knows that his confidence has been rocked, his mind drowned beneath the thoughts he can’t escape. He wouldn’t even know how to keep his guard up anymore to block Miyeon’s sassy jabs. “I guess she did.” 

“What is it, Hoon? You could have anyone. Why did it have to be your step-sister?” She crosses her legs, head tilted to the side observing him. All she needs now is a notepad and pen to tap her chin with. She should study to psychoanalyze, really.

“She could have been anyone.” Sunghoon agrees with that. Step-sister or not, he can’t pinpoint the exact reason you caused him to spiral. “But I like her.”

“Why? What’s so special about her?”

It’s not one thing, but a bit of everything. If he could really take away the superficial and shallow reasonings beyond you being his type physically, sexy and alluring, it would come down to the energy between you. The tension and heat. He often questions if that would fade with time once you stop fighting him. If you would ever stop fighting him even if he was able to call you his.

The back and forth with you really does turn him on not only sexually but emotionally. Awakening feelings he forgot could exist. Even now without contact, with no way to reach you, he feels that pull. He feels taunted and defeated, and it’s pitiful how much he loves it. He loves that between him and his brother, you may have been the victorious one after all.

“Would you judge me if I said I feel a connection to her?” He sighs, slumping into the couch seat. “That sounds stupid, right?”

“Not at all.” Miyeon shifts to look at him, offering a small smile. “Sounds normal. You’re crazy about her because it’s more than sex, if it wasn’t you wouldn’t still be hung up on her. A guy like you doesn’t have it hard, you wouldn’t even know what it is to struggle even if you were slapped across the face with it.”

“I have it hard.” He grumbles, glaring at her. “You know what I’ve been through.”

“No you don’t Hoon.” Miyeon laughs, pointing a finger at him. “You think that because your life hasn’t been perfect, everything hasn’t gone your way, that other people wouldn’t sell their soul to live the way you live? We’re so incredibly out of touch with the real human struggle, our biggest hassle is seeking love.”

“So what? I’m not worthy of love because I’m some fucking wealthy brat?” He snaps, getting angrier by the second.

“We’re all worthy of love. You’re just not used to having to try hard, to earn what you want..” Miyeon reaches for his hand, breaking his rage for a moment. “If you expect love, you have to give love. She’s not your mom, she’s probably just as scared as you are of all of this.”

“She loves my brother just fine.” 

“From what you’ve told me, he loves her too. I didn’t know back then, but the way he rescued her from having dinner with us would have swept me off my feet.” She shrugs, frowning at him. “And do you know where he is now? In Paris, with her. He gave up his life for her.”

“Because he hates me.”

“Or because he loves her.”

Sunghoon’s mouth twitches, he refuses to believe that. Heeseung isn’t capable of loving anyone other than himself, he’s selfish.. 

“And you? You’re here, sitting on a couch talking to me as if I am your therapist.” Miyeon continues, cocking an eyebrow at him. “What’s your excuse?”

“What? I’m supposed to go to Paris and stalk her?!” 

She shrugs, raising her hands and nodding. “How could that be any worse than everything else you have already done to her? Listen,” fully turning to face him, she grabs both of his hands. “You need to talk to her, tell her how you feel.”

“She won’t speak to me.”

“Don’t give her a choice.” Miyeon says, grimacing. “It’s not the best advice but you don’t have time for this anymore. You’ve been moping around for a year still hanging onto old memories of this girl. She may not even be the same person you felt a connection to anymore. Aren’t you tired of not knowing?”

“You think I should go to Paris? Corner her when she’s not with my brother?” A light flickers behind his eyes, staring ahead deep in thought.

“I didn’t say all of that but, you need to do what you need to do.. get your girl or lose her forever.” 

She’s right, isn’t she? How could Sunghoon not realize this on his own? He thought giving you time, that you would come around on your own and realize how much he loves you. That he only did what he did because he wants you. That his brother would never compare to him..  

“Poor girl.” Miyeon mumbles, smacking Sunghoon’s shoulder. “Don’t let your greed to win overshadow what you feel for her. Put her first, for once.”

Maybe he needs more friends, perhaps another opinion could have talked him out of this. His father couldn’t complain when he approached him with the idea of finishing up his company internship(aka bitch work) in France, given that he would be taking over the European sector of his father’s company. 

So he packed his bags with nothing else planned. No place to call home, no thoughts other than finding you. The flight was long and lonely once again, but he made use of his time and brushed up on French, repeating key words and phrases he’d likely use often. 

It was crazy, all of this has been crazy. Miyeon told him to not stress much on his outlandish behavior, it’s not as if falling for your step-sibling sounded normal to begin with.

And maybe, he could fall out of love. He could go on with his life without another thought of you, without another painful grip around his heart. 

At least he hoped for an outcome close to that, of discarding his heartache. Of forgetting your name. But that couldn’t be the case.

No. He sat in the hotel lobby where he’d overheard you had taken on a summer job, and he saw you. He stayed by the corner, in the shadows, pretending to wait for his taxi driver's arrival. He watched you walk through the front doors, and he gasped. His chest caved in, his grip on the chair's arms tightened, and he leaned forward. He watched you move like slow motion, as if you were never real, and his stomach fluttered. 

He knew right then this may never be over.

Maybe it’s for the best that only Miyeon knew of his plan. To lure you up to his suite and get you alone at your place of work. You can’t leave if he does that.. and sure, maybe it’s not the most ethical approach. Maybe it’s invasive and even deplorable, but what choice have you left him? 

Phone number, blocked.

Emails, ignored.

Your living space? Shared with Heeseung. 

How else is he supposed to get to you?

This makes sense, planning out a way to trap you alone in his suite with him. Sneaking up on you, showering you with outrageously expensive gifts, and getting on his knees to purpose.

Now Miyeon had not made that suggestion, but Sunghoon concluded no other statement could make it clear how serious he is about you. How much he wants to prove his love to you, that’s why he hopped off of his flight and immediately rushed to one of the most luxurious reputable jewelers in all of Paris. A fat diamond rock to adorn your finger would be the perfect way to express his love, right? It’s not as if he even knows your ring size, having to take a wild guess and make note to adjust it later if necessary.

Everything about this plan is very *him* if he thinks about it, and you should expect no less from him. He’s eccentric like that, always pulling something ridiculous. He’s sure you recall when he purchased that pearl necklace for you simply because you’d been admiring it. How else would he make a grand comeback into your life?

Maybe he is crazy, or maybe you made him crazy. He smiled as he spoke to you, his palms grew sweatier the more his pocket weighed down with the leather box encasing your future engagement ring. The gloves were a real nice touch to not leave any of his grubby fingerprint marks on the silver band, nothing to ruin how pretty the ring would beam from your ring finger. You didn’t seem to like the gloves, but ah well..

‘I won’t give up on what my heart believes is real.’

He couldn’t believe the words leaving his lips, really. Could hardly hold himself together with how loud chest was pounding. 

‘Please, say yes.’ He begged, and his tongue felt so heavy dragging through his pleading. The backs of his eyes burned, his stomach churned, his knees trembled on the ground. If not for the cool breeze of air conditioning swarming through the hotel room, he’s sure he’d be sweating enough to soak through his suit.

It’s been so long since he’s touched you, since he’s seen your eyes focused on him, since he’s held you. Nervous hands clutch at your waist and bring you to stand. The look of awe and disbelief written across your face fills his chest with warmth. This could be worth all of his waiting and suffering, if you open your mouth and say that one word that can bring you together again.

“No!” A firm slap flies across his cheek. Snapping his neck to the side and nearly dislodging his jaw, he blinks for a minute to regain himself. Shifting his mouth muscles around to stop the lower half of his face from going numb.

More than the pain scorching through his face, he couldn’t turn off the ringing going off between his ears.

NO?!?!?!??!

Sunghoon’s cheek burns, his chest muscles twitch, and a searing pain erupts in his heart. He can feel it this time, no denying that his heart is literally in severe pain, causing him to reach for the area. He turns to glare at you, dropping the box with the ring from his grip. 

“What is wrong with you! You come here, to my job!!” You shout, shoving at his abdomen. “And you fucking ask me to marry you?!? Are you insane! Are you God damn kidding me! You can’t be this crazy, you just can’t be!”

He hears you, he does, but not really. Because the pain in his chest blooms, he steps back with each shove you deliver, and more of his internal hurt spreads. The butterflies flapping inside of his stomach lose their wings, they collapse to their death and he grabs a hold of your wrists before you can push him away again.

“You left me.”

It’s hard to look at him, harder to hear his voice. To feel his large hands wrapped around your delicate wrists. It’s harder to look away and find the ring by your feed, the ring he seriously thought you’d accept and wear on your finger? That you’d say yes?

“I was never with you.”

“Tell me,” he swallows, lifting your arms up and crossing them over your chest. Holding you in place. “Tell me that I mean nothing to you then. Let me fucking move on and forget about me, let me go.”

“Sunghoon.”

“No.” He grits, bottom lip trembling. “You don’t get to do this. You want to be with my brother? Then fine, go fucking be with him. But at least let me go.”

“This was all in your head.” You struggle to rip out of his hold, shaking yourself away. “Y-you think you can have whatever you want because of daddy’s money. You can’t have me just because you stomp and jump around like a bra—“

He should have known you wouldn’t give him a clear answer, you’re too weak for him to deny him. He’s too weak to stay away from you. So he cuts you off with a firm kiss, slotting his lips between yours. He’s been craving, dreaming of this kiss for months, to savor your taste once more. 

There’s no push or pull, only tension leaving your body as his soft pout moves against yours and he takes a step closer until the backs of your knees hit the hotel bed.

He deserves this kiss and some, more than anything. For waiting, for staying patient and not losing the little bit of his mind he still has left. A shudder runs up his spine when he drops his hands to your waist and squeezes you, pulling your chest to his. You feel right against him, smell so good, and your lips couldn’t be more heavenly. 

Slowly blinking his eyes open, he takes a few seconds to linger by your lips and take in your softened features. The dreamy look that’s taken over your face. The breaths that fan across his mouth heavier than before. He knows in this moment that you’ll never let him go, because he won’t let you.

“Y-you shouldn’t have done that.” You stammer, reaching for his hands on you. “Think you can just come back into my life and mess everything up again?!”

“Yes, I mean, no.” Squeezing his eyes shut, he shakes his head in disagreement. “I’m not here to mess up anything, I’m here to make this right.”

“There’s nothing to make right.” Loosening his hold on your waist, you manage to move around him. “I have to get back to work, please do not follow me.”

“Please.” He knows he sounds pathetic, reaching for your hand to stop you from leaving. He drags along with you toward the suite entrance without letting go. Stopping when you do and your shoulders slump, letting out a long-winded sigh.

“What do you want from me?”

“A chance.” He says confidently, interlacing his fingers with yours. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel it when we’re together. Call me insane and crazy all that you want, but I know what passes between us isn’t nothing.”

“It doesn’t matter—“

“No, it does though.” Sunghoon cuts you off, using your moment of surprise to loop his arms around your waist again. “Because I’m here, I came here for you. I will not leave until you give me a chance.”

“A chance? I don’t understand, I can’t even begin to understand why you’re still trying. Why won’t you give up?!”

He knows that nothing he says to you will make sense, that even if he admitted how his feelings began to develop you may not like his full explanation. “I’m a lot of things, I’m sure you’re aware. I’m nowhere near perfect, and I haven’t shown you anything impressive really. If you deemed me a monster, I couldn’t argue with that.” He nods, rubbing up and down your sides. “But when it comes to you, I really do believe that you like me despite all of that. I—“ he stutters for a second, looking away to recompose himself. The same rush of heat he loathes finds the backs of his eyes. He can’t cry, not now.

“I think we get each other, you’re scared.” Clearing his throat, he eyes your face for any change in expression. “I’m scared. I’ve been scared. Terrified of how strongly I feel about you. I’m done being afraid.”

“And what do you think I’m scared of?” You ask sternly, tilting your chin up.

“Me.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m a monster.” That’s who he is to you. He’s the evil brother, the one with malicious intent. Spoiled rotten, crazy enough to do just about anything. He knows what you’ve built him up as in your mind, good or bad, there’s too much to repair and no amount of love you may harbor for him can do the job. If it could, you would have said yes. “That’s what you think of me, right?”

“No, Sunghoon.” You whisper, freeing yourself from his hold yet again. “I prefer to not think of you.”

“Why? Why is that?” He questions quickly, moving around you to barricade the door to exit. “Why are you pretending that I don’t exist? That none of this mattered to you.”

An air of defeat settles over you, dropping your head back with a sigh. You shrug and glare at him, unable to stop your gaze from roaming down, back up, and down again to take in how much more masculine and mature he’s become in just a year. Physically, and obviously emotionally. “Do you want me to tell you that I once had feelings for you? That I felt so guilty for months after leaving you alone in that hotel room. That I beat myself up over it, for feeling bad in the first place. I couldn’t even figure out how to feel, if you even deserved my sympathy after what you did.”

“Did you feel bad? For trying to break my heart?”

“No.” Pressing your lips into a thin line, you blink fast to push down the moisture finding its way to your eyes. Confused and annoyed by the look of disbelief that crosses his face, you clench your fists. “My heart let go of the idea of you after I found out about what you did to your brother. You played in my face and tried to manipulate me, I’m not even sure I know who you really are.”

Sunghoon has to fight to not roll his eyes, resting his back against the door he crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m exactly who I’ve shown you, never seemed to be a problem before.”

“Are you? Are you the same nice guy that took me to the Vatican? Or are you that asshole that threatened me in your bedroom?”

“Both.” He shrugs, pushing off the door to get in your face. “Tell me that you didn’t love both, that you didn’t like it when I fucked you the way you deserved.”

“I don’t think you’d be able to handle the truth if I told you what I loved most.” 

Sunghoon squints, licking the backs of his teeth with a hint of annoyance flickering across his face. He shakes his head and scoffs under his breath. “Don’t start.”

“Why? Because you hate to accept that side of yourself? That you can actually feel basic human emotion?” You ask brazenly, reaching for his jaw to drag one of your digits down. “That this sharp cold image is just a facade to hide how broken you really are?”

His neck twists away, snapping his face away from your touch. “Whatever bullshit my brother has told you is a lie. He doesn’t know me, he doesn’t know shit about what I went through.”

“He hasn’t told me much, only what I asked. I know about Miyeon.”

“Pfft,” rolling his eyes, he sets his jaw tight and pins you in place with a furious look. “What about her? I already told you, we broke it off. We never had a real relationship.”

“I know.” Softening your expression, you reach for one of his hands. Not too surprised when he allows you to lace your fingers between his. “I know about that, how your father wanted Heeseung to date her first. And I know that despite everything you’ve pulled, you still have love for your brother.”

Sunghoon lifts your hands, turning from yours to his to admire the size difference between you. How you perfectly fit against his palm, and how much nicer hand would look with a gorgeous ring on your finger. “Even if I did, it’s not enough to stop me from getting what I want. No amount of love for him or my father can stop me anymore, you do realize that, don’t you?”

“I think you’re looking for someone that I am not.” You frown, pulling your hand away. “I’m not the girl that can erase your past or heal you..”

“I don’t need to be healed.” Cupping your face, his thumbs stroke over your cheeks. Eyes dropping shut for a moment as he contemplates kissing you again. He knows better now, than you won’t listen to him if he tries to capture your lips again. “I just need you.”

“No, Hoon..” you sigh, lightly squeezing his wrists. “You’re in pain, whether you understand that or not. And it’s beyond me, above what I am capable of helping you deal with.”

Sunghoon’s fingers tremble against your jaw, slowly dragging his hands down to your throat. “Is my pain all that I am to you?”

“No, but.. I don’t know if your pain is something that I’m ready to handle.” 

Dropping his hands, he takes a step back away from you. No longer standing before the door, leaving you with a clear escape. “Yet.”

Perhaps he’s right, maybe it’s hope, delusion, something along that route. But you can’t find it in yourself to deny him. Only stiffly nodding your head as you make your way to leave the suite. He stops you one more time, licking his pink lips.

“Don’t leave me this way, after all of this. After a year of replaying every memory I have with you.” He says desperately, blinking away tears he’d never allow to pour down in front of you.

“What do you want from me?” You ask nearly as pitifully, fearing how much longer you can stand being around him. Your resolve can only stay so strong, even if you won’t admit that the memories of him have never once left your mind.

“A kiss.” 

“I’m with your brother.”

“One kiss.”

“One kiss and you’ll let me go back to work?” You ask hesitantly, already sensing thick tension building up around you. There’s nothing to stop you from opening the door and walking out, except Sunghoon could grab you.. and knowing him he would. He’d keep you holed up in here for another hour until you crack under his pressure and give into him. That’d be the worst case scenario, knowing in the back of your mind that you’d absolutely succumb to him if you stay in here alone with him much longer.

A small smile plays on his lips, nodding shortly. “One kiss and you’re free to leave.”

“But am I free of you?”

“No promises.” Sunghoon doesn’t bother to ease into the kiss. Making the first move to cup your face. He presses in, leaning his head in to align your lips. 

This kiss that he’s allowed to run rampant in his mind. This kiss that he’s craved for, pictured all of the different ways it would go. How you’d run into his arms, and he’d scoop you up. Maybe even some rain would fall from the sky, because surely even the Gods of the universe had to rejoice in this moment.

Only this is nothing as he dreamt of, this is better.

This is real. The barely there breathy moan that escapes your throat. The heat radiating from your mouth to his. The soft plush of your lips applying pressure against his as you kiss back. And you do kiss back, allowing the tip of his tongue to skim across the seam of your lips. He boldly takes the chance to push in more, eyebrows raised as your mouth parts open around him.

This kiss is more passionate, more intense, blooming life between his thighs. He feels mad once his tongue makes it past your lips, and he licks the roof of your mouth. Licks through the crevices, laps at your tongue. He can’t get enough, moaning as the taste of your saliva meets the back of his throat. He needs more, needs to know how swollen your pretty mouth can get if he keeps going. Pulling back his tongue and slurping, he latches onto your bottom lip. Sucking the plump juiciness between his, biting down harder than intended. 

Excitement builds fast, rushing through him at light speed and his hands. His hands slide down, they land at your chest, teasing the buttons of your blouse. And just like that your lips are gone, leaving him puckered up midair. Dreamily blinking open his glazed over eyes.

“H-huh?” 

The sight of the back of your hand dragging across your mouth is the first thing he sees. Drawing yourself away from him with a firm nod. You hold out a finger toward him and make your way to the door. “Stay right there.”

Sunghoon can’t ignore the way his chest swoops down to his stomach. His groin aches and throbs. Fuck if it isn’t taking every bit of his restraint to stop himself from chasing after you only to slam your back against that door before you can go anywhere. With clenched fists he listens to you, gritting his teeth.

“Will you allow me to call you now?”

��No.”

Sunghoon chuckles sarcastically to mask his pain. Having to hold himself up by clutching onto the entrance table. Practically knocked off of his feet after getting a small taste of you. “I figured as much. Well I always have your address.”

“Hoon.”

“What?” He acts stupid, blinking dumbly with a shit-eating grin. All of this is fake, an act to keep his tears under control.

“Do not show up at my home.”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic, that’s not my style..” he motions around himself. Indicating that he’d much rather track you down at work where he can at least enjoy a luxurious hotel suite. “I’ll be writing to you.”

“Writing??”

“Letters.” He nods surely, playing with the door handle. “I hope you’ll read them.”

Giving him a suspicious eye, you shake your head and begin to turn around to head back to your manager’s office. Scoffing and muttering under your breath. “Whatever.”

“Don’t be a stranger! Alright?” He calls out from behind you. Sighing to himself and dragging two digits across his bottom lip. 

Maybe you didn’t say yes, and sure, you didn’t seem as excited to see him after an entire year as he had hoped for; but one kiss held more than hope. Confirming that you still want him, still think about him. He’d cherish that kiss until you come around and finally accept to let him in. It’s not as if you’ve kicked him out, yet..

———————————-

‘I remember my first time in Paris, I thought to myself city of love? And wondered if I simply did not understand what love must really feel like. Dad had brought me along for a company trip, he wanted me to meet some investors, get my face recognized before I joined his side someday. I watched these old fat bastards chain smoke all night, rave about Parisian women dancing topless at Crazy Horse, drink as if tomorrow would never come. I felt no sense of love, only disgust as I sat there amidst wealth being mindlessly thrown around. 

And now I sit here in the city of love, and I sip on cappuccinos every early morning. I order the same flaky butter croissant from this adorable quaint café near my hotel. I take my time to people watch, relax and soak in the morning sun that has just risen, and I think of you. I think of love.’

He really did write you letters. Every week a new one would come in, addressed from one of your favorite aunts. The first to arrive initially had you excited, hoping she had shoved in a few hundred dollar bills after hearing that you’d been working. Maybe your mother had informed her that she hadn’t been transferring you quite as much anymore. The last thing you anticipated was a handwritten letter from Sunghoon.

Choking on your coffee as you began to read, you cleared your throat and peered around for Heeseung’s presence. Thankfully, he was too deep into his game to notice your wide eyes and the paper in your hand. Sunghoon had really sent you a Goddamn letter.. pen and paper.. what a fool.

You tried to hold back a smile as you continued to read upon realizing this was no mail sent from your beloved aunt. 

‘I think about you and how nice it would be to wake up by your side. To share my morning coffee with you, to cut a croissant for you. To simply take a stroll before I head into work and hold your hand. How much I’d love to see your face glow under this sunrise. I’d buy you flowers from the local vendors, take you on shopping sprees every weekend. We’d be regulars at the opera house, try out all the fine dining Paris has to offer. And when we’re up to it, we could go to the South of France, take the train out to Sweden, Denmark, wherever you wish to visit. That must be love, to enjoy and live through this life with someone who fills your heart.

-SH’

Thousands of feelings swarm around your head as you fold up the paper and tuck it into your pocket. Already planning to stuff it away inside of the jewelry box you only ever open to look at, to remember. 

“Babe, did you check out any of those listings I emailed you?” Heeseung calls out, not moving his eyes away from the computer screen. He leans in too close, jabbing at his keyboard. “Found some really good plots of land and houses that could benefit from a lot of refurbishing in Seattle. I think you’d really like the area.”

It’s been a couple of weeks now since your anniversary, since Sunghoon’s unwelcomed arrival back into your life. You never mentioned your night time visitor at work to your boyfriend, maybe out of fear. Worry and guilt as to how he would react knowing that his younger brother’s booked a suite at your place of work..

Heeseung likely wouldn’t have taken the news well, given your past and how sensitive the topic of his brother always is. You don’t walk on eggshells anytime he’s even alluded to in conversation for nothing.

“Uhm, no, haven’t had time, baby. You know work has been so crazy. Peak tourist season and all.” 

You’re not lying, work has been slammed. You’ve come home night after night completely exhausted. Also tense from looking over your shoulder, afraid and hopeful of the possibility to see a familiar face. It’s not that you want to see him, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself. You’re curious more than anything.. if he’d rear around the corner. If he’d try to bother you while working, what his next step could be..

It’s better this way. Keeping Heeseung clueless to his brother's current location, avoid any possible altercations, and there’s of course no need to mention the kiss. It didn’t mean anything.. you just needed a way out.

“Babe, our lease here ends in a few months. I really want to start planning for the move back.”

This has been happening nonstop for the last week. Even when you’re fucking he brings up moving, rubbing your stomach and mumbling about having kids. Reassuring you that he’ll land a high-paying job once you move. It’s a near guarantee thanks to his last name and father’s connections..

“We could go month to month..” you mumble, pretending to clean up around the kitchen. “You know, if we can’t find a place we agree on.”

The sound of his game pausing fills your living space in silence. Slowly turning to look at you, he tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “But then we’d be here even longer, and I thought—“

“I don’t want to move.” You should have let him know immediately. But impending fear of losing him kept you quiet. Nodding and agreeing to whatever he said as you went on ignoring his texts and emails about moving. Skirted around the subject whenever he brought it up again. Yawned and waved off the conversation in favor of getting to sleep, or taking a shower, anything to make him stop until he came to the realization on his own.

“You don’t want to move?..” moving to stand, he slowly walks over to you. Lips pulled down in a frown. “But I thought we were planning our future—“

“You.” Interrupting him, you anxiously ring your hands together. Knocking your nail beds against each other. “You were planning..”

“Are you—“ he breathes shallowly, reaching for his chest. “B-breaking up with me??”

“No! Hee, no! Not at all!” You fret, running around the kitchen island to grab his arms. “This is why I didn’t want to talk about this! I don’t want you to be upset!”

“So, you lied to me?” He sighs, head dropping. “You never wanted to move?”

“I didn’t lie.. I never told you that I wanted to move.”

“Then, then—why? Why not?” He sounds genuinely confused, tearing your heart apart. You tried to avoid this, didn’t want to have to ruin the peaceful relationship you’ve become accustomed to, too comfortable with. 

“I love living here, in Paris..”

“But it’s—we always complain about so many things! The sewer system, how fast the groceries go bad, the lack of convenient transportation!”

“You, you complain about those things.” Rubbing his arms up and down, you trail down to place your hands in his. “I’m sorry for not being honest. I don’t want you to leave me..”

Heeseung looks as overwhelmed as you feel, forehead wrinkled, lips tightened into a thin line. He sighs and shakes his head, pulling you into a hug. It’s not that you couldn’t make it work.. a long distance type of relationship, but for how long? 

There’s a chance you could wake up one day tired of this, missing your life back in the states. But there’s a higher chance you’ll regret letting him slip from your arms to start a new life without you in America. 

Silence and a tight hug consumes you for the next hour. Calming each other with soothing rubs up and down each other’s backs.

“Now I feel bad, like I’ve been pressuring you..” he mumbles into your shoulder. Squeezing you closer to his front. “God I feel like such a dick.”

“It’s my fault, seriously. You have nothing to feel bad about.” 

No. The only one who should feel bad is you. Giggling over some stupid letter that you should have tore up once you realized who it came from. You should feel bad whenever you’re by yourself, when your boyfriends at work, when you lock yourself in the bathroom alone; and you think about him. Replaying the kiss, the touch of his hands on you, the desperation in his voice. You’re the worst girlfriend, undeserving of a man as good as Heeseung.

“We don’t have to keep talking about this. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Pulling away to look at you, he really tries to force a smile to comfort you. “I was getting home sick, I don’t know.. it was stupid.”

“Not stupid.” You say apologetically. Sorry for things he’s not even aware of..

The rest of the day goes by awkwardly, needless to say. As much as you both continue to assure each other that everything’s okay, and everything will be okay; you know that everything has changed. 

Heeseung drops the topic of moving for the next few weeks, and he tries, he tries so hard to be the best boyfriend to you. Only setting in what a piece of shit you really are for holding him back, for keeping him here with you for your own selfish reasons.

He’s your first love and the thought of losing him keeps you up at night. Staring blankly out into nothing as you quietly debate with yourself over and over again. Weighing out the pros and cons of moving, of giving up your dreams to satisfy his. 

And through your inner turmoil, the letters continue to come. Never questioned by your boyfriend when you explain that your favorite aunt once lived in Paris when she was about your age. You’ve become pen pals sort of, sharing your experiences back and forth.

Another lie.

‘I told my French instructor about you, or well, perhaps I fibbed a little. Told him that I moved here for my girlfriend. She loves Paris, enchanted with the city. He’s really helped me out to improve the little bit of French I had learned back in high school. 

There’s this saying he spoke of when I told him about us. 

Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point

It means: The heart has its reasons of which reason knows nothing. 

Again, I think of you, I think of my heart when it comes to you. The reasons I think that I love you, how they run so deep that I am not sure I will ever begin to understand how we ended up here..

I hope you are well, and that someday you will understand that love is not one dimensional. Our hearts are stronger than we realize. Love you.

-SH’

These letters, they could be another way to manipulate you. Going on two months now, he sends one every week sharing tidbits of his life here in Paris. How lonely it is, how he’s used to being alone, and how even though you are not with him—he is with you.

And then he writes about her, and you have to ask yourself how far Sunghoon’s willing to go to mess with your head. How much of himself is he willing to open up and spill out for you. He claims to love you, shouldn’t he pour himself empty for you?

‘My mom passed away September 26th. The days coming up again. I don’t talk much about her, I know. I am sure my brother has told you enough, how I bawled my eyes out everyday as a child. How much I hurt all by myself. Maybe it’s true that people like me are some of the loneliest.

Someone like me who seems to have it all. That’s what a lot of the employees under me now say behind my back. I hear them, I listen to their snickering words. To their quiet whispers when I arrive and walk through to my office without acknowledging their feeble existences. They think I’m a fucking dick, they’re probably right.

I don’t blame everything on my mother. I pity her the same way I pity my brother. Both too weak to handle their emotions in a way that doesn’t ruin others lives. 

You told me I have love for my brother, that I don’t hate him, and you’re right. I don’t know how you read me so easily, but you do. It drives me crazy, the way you make me feel seen. I go through life with all these eyes on me, but none of them really see me. None of them are actually looking at me.

Ah, I am speaking nonsense, aren’t I? You probably haven’t read a single one of these. Maybe I’m starting to lose my last attachment to this fleeting hope. Not that this hasn’t been worth everything to me. To be able to see you again even if just once, to taste you one last time. I can’t believe I allowed love in only for it to hurt me. 

I wouldn’t take any of this back. I don’t believe I have ever let go of myself this much, the invisible armor I keep up. Thanks to you, I have learned to bring down my defenses.. I really do hate that.

Talk soon, I hope.

-SH’

Each letter dug a deeper hole inside of your chest. Sunghoon never gave you a return address, both of you know there were more than enough ways to reach him. You know exactly where his father’s company is located, his email, his phone number that remains blocked.

He poured more and more of himself into each one. And as much as it pained you to read, you felt the same butterflies or excitement each time another letter arrived in the mail. Hiding yourself at your computer desk to read every new one, muttering to Heeseung that you had some work to wrap up. 

This couldn’t qualify as cheating if you remained contactless on your side, right? Not that repeating that to yourself helped any with the guilt that continued to suffocate you. 

If only you could run to your mother with this problem, let out all of your anguish. How much you’ve been stretched apart by these two men. How they’ve split you down the middle and made you forget yourself.

If they weren’t your step-brothers she’d likely soar to the fucking moon after hearing news of your rapturous love life. Not even your mother had enough faith in you to believe that two Park men could possibly be battling to a bloody pulp to claim you as theirs and only theirs.

As fast as fall came, so did the crushing weight of reality. 

Heeseung’s smile rarely graced your days anymore. His laughter hardly filled your loft. And the uneasy strain between you never subsided. His sadness was hard to ignore and trying to only made you feel worse, guiltier, like such a terrible person.

“Hee, I checked out some of those locations you sent me before.” You mention over dinner. Feeling extra tense after reading another new letter from Sunghoon.

He’s officially moved into Paris, no longer residing at a hotel. His writing was full of excitement this time, cheering happily about finding a place. Insisting you come visit him one day to at least compliment him for hiring a fantastic realtor and scoring a decently priced house with a perfect view of the Eiffel tower. Decently priced for a millionaire, of course.

“Huh?” Heeseung asks, half paying attention. Half distracted by a game on his phone.

“Seattle, right? It’s nice and cold out there..”

Nothing like a humid sunny summer day in Paris, no.. 

“Wh-what? I thought you didn’t want to move.”

You don’t. At all.

“Worth looking at.” You shrug, biting down on your lip nervously. 

It’s not actually, and you’re being tortured by your own subconscious that won’t shut up about this. It’s all you can think about even while you fuck and have great sex. Heeseung’s accepting a future he doesn’t desire for you. And you? You’re greedy, selfish, benefiting off of his pain to fulfill your needs and dreams..

“You don’t want to leave Paris.” He nods firmly, reaching across the table for your hand. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

All you seem to do these days is lie. Lie after lie, failing to convince yourself that you only choose to lie to protect him.

You have to lie, because worse than losing him, you’d hate to be another person that’s let him down. Another comparison to his mother, father, brother, all those who have failed him before you..

“I don’t.” You struggle to say, throat welling up with tears. “But I’m scared. What does this mean for us?”

“N-nothing, I—“

“You’re unhappy.” Saying those words out loud rush tears to brim your eyes. Blinking the first batch out, they scold your cheeks on their way down. “You don’t like it here, you’re only here because of me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” He appeals, sitting up. The game on his phone forgotten about. “I love you, I want to be wherever you are.”

“I know.” Sniffling, you squeeze his hand. Getting up to sit down on his lap and wrap yourself around him. “I love you, and I don’t want you to choose a life that was never meant for you.”

I’ve put you through so much Heeseung. That’s what you wish you could bring yourself to say. That you released his inner demons, went behind his back, selfishly expected him to fix all of your fucked up life himself..

“We can make this work, can’t we?” Heeseung’s first cry makes your heart sink. Clutching onto him, burying your fingers through his hair. You don’t want to ever let go, don’t want to accept the reality of your situation. That he may just be your very first heartbreak.

“Of course we can, baby.”

Lying isn’t always a bad thing, right? Sometimes we lie to spare others feelings. Like when your mother lied to you about cheating on your father, she knew you’d figure everything out in time. But you were too young to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation. She lied so that you wouldn’t hate her or blame her. You lied for the same reasons..

By October, Heeseung had packed up his belongings. The two of you agreed that this wouldn’t be permanent, only until you finish up school and get at least a year’s experience of work. After that was all done, you could revisit the whole moving back to America conversation. Of course you cried and suffered in silence, keeping yourself as calm as you could around him as the days went by. The second you locked the bathroom door to shower, tears would find their way out. You’d sob and cry into your palm. Hoping the shower was louder than your aching chest to drown out the sound of your sadness.

Your mother only side-eyed you when you begged her to not make Sunghoon aware of Heeseung’s departure back to the states. She didn’t pry too much, only clicked her tongue disappointed by the lack of a close relationship you had with her preferred brother.

The goodbye before Heeseung got on the plane to leave you spiraled you into a depressive state for weeks. Only forcing yourself to appear normal when he’d video call you appearing equally miserable. This was the promise you made to each other, to keep your relationship alive. Update each other daily, phone calls, scheduled video chats, texts throughout your days, photos, anything. 

And that worked, at first. Even forcing you both to learn how to get each other off in new ways. Video calls often turned steamy, positioning your cameras to enjoy the view of your private areas as you touched yourselves and moaned. Of course, it was never enough and you’d crawl into the bed he shared with you only 3 weeks ago to cry yourself to sleep

“This was for the best.” That’s what you continued to tell yourself. He was miserable here, already back to smiling big as he used to whenever he answers another video call from you. He’s doing better mentally despite missing your warmth by his side, and that’s what matters.

If you love something, let it go, right?

That’s what Sunghoon did.

Sunghoon.

His letters have piled up, the fourth one coming in today. You stare at them stacked on your kitchen counter sometimes. Trembling hands tempted to open each and swallow down each word like a crisp sip of wine. 

They felt similar. Addicting, butter, sweet, euphoric. To be let inside of someone that not many, if any, have ever been able to know so well.

Maybe this was the right decision for you and Heeseung, as much as it ripped you to shreds to go through with. He once gave up the only life he’d ever known for you, and here you are.. only giving him up.

There are times you listen to the sound of your heart beating only to make sure it’s there. You’re not a heartless monster for choosing yourself first. Neither of your parents were pleased with this news, especially your mother who has been urging you to move and follow along with your step-brother. 

‘At least Sunghoon lives out there now too. I don’t understand you kids, Europe is great for vacation.’

She also pestered you to contact him, to not forget that he is also your step-sibling. That you also should build a healthy strong relationship with him as he will be the one to likely inherit all of Mr. Park’s wealth when his time comes.

‘Heeseung’s wonderful, I was wrong about him.’ She mindlessly chatted with you, holding a yogurt covered spoon by her mouth. ‘I’m so grateful that he took all of that time to look out for you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear he had a crush on you or some type of liking.’

She giggled over the silly idea, finishing her yogurt and ending the call. Not before scolding you to text Sunghoon.

You wouldn’t. Instead, you shoved his unopened letters inside of a drawer and decided to attend your job’s annual Halloween ball. Something that could help to lift your spirits, dressing up a little, dancing and drinking with your coworkers. Why not?

Heeseung encouraged you and helped you pick out an outfit over video call. Leaving your room a haphazard mess of tops and skirts, all types of tights and fishnets thrown about as you tried on various looks for him. The two of you agreed upon a deep blood red coat you purchased sometime last year at a street market that resembled a cape.

“That should be good enough to cover you up on your way over.” He gulped, nervously taking in the skimpy black minidress you chose. Cut low to enhance your breast shape, the fabric clung to your skin tightly showing off all of your shape.

“Good thing I work with a ton of girls, right baby?” You winked, blowing him a kiss. He pressed in closer to the screen whimpering.

“Send me a lot of pictures?”

“Of course, don’t have too much fun handing out candy without me?”

The two of you chatted for a bit longer before you had to let him go. It was already after 8pm and the party had been well on its way by the time you arrived. Many of your coworkers had been hitting the open bar hard, dragging you onto the dance floor right as you arrived.

Halloween tunes from Monster Mash to Thriller blasted through the speakers and everyone had fun dancing. Exactly what you needed, not some grungy Parisian club filled with men attempting to grope you all night. Just a good spooky time with the closest thing you have to friends in this lonely city.

This lonely city that you could run into just about anyone in.

Brava. Brava. Bravissima.

That jawline, those eyes, his curved lips. You’d recognize him regardless of the mask covering half of his face. He’s standing there across the floor, beneath the balcony creating a shadow down his face. Sharp gaze laser focused on you, unblinking, licking his lips when you finally spot him.

How long has he waited? How did he know, and why.. why is he wearing that.

The world really stops, slows down, becomes mute when you see him. That’s Sunghoon’s power over you and he knows it. Floating across the floor to you, he bows forward. The cufflinks on his wrist gleam, the white gloves covering his hands strike visually in contrast against his black suit. 

And that mask, that mask hiding half of his handsome features. This has to be a joke.

“Phantom.”

“Ah, you did not read my letters.” His tongue clicks, and you’re sure a hint of blush spreads across his one visible cheek. 

“I did.” You stammer, squeezing your eyes shut. “N-not the past few, been busy..”

“Well,” reaching out his hand, he smiles. “Trick or treat?”

“Is this not enough of a trick for you?” You can’t help but sneer, rolling your eyes as you take his hand. “What happened to not stalking me at my place of work?

“I’ll have you know I stayed at this establishment for a month. I was invited because I’m now considered a platinum club member guest.” Sunghoon leads you away from the drunken crowd of girls you’d been amongst all night. Head towards the center of the dance floor, his sharp canines shine under the low lights that scatter about the room. “Didn’t think you’d be here, job requirements I’m guessing?”

“Yeah.” 

Not necessarily, but that’s none of his business.

“Not allowed to bring a plus one?” He questions. Making his true curiosity very clear.

“Felt like doing a girls night.” You shrug, lifting his hand to look over his costume. “So, why this get up?”

“Why not? I’m in Paris. Felt like an appropriate costume.” He shrugs back, cocking his visible eyebrow. “Not a fan?”

“That’s hilarious..” you mutter. Falling in line with him as he leads you to dance. “Me? Not a fan of Phantom of The Opera?”

“Let me guess, you’re my angel of music?” He grins, turning you around. His free hand creeping onto your waist beneath your cape. “The mask I wear?

“Good guess.” Sticking out your tongue at him, you snort. “I’m a vampire, obviously.”

“Ah, well, your fangs seems to be missing tonight.”

“Oh? You must be a human to think so naive.”

“Could always bite me if that’s the case?” His smile widens, bending in closer. “Right on the jugular, suck me dry to the bone.”

“You’re too insufferable to pull off Phantom, you know.” 

Sunghoon can’t stop himself from smiling. He even laughs, pointing out a table nearby. “Join me? I do miss this back and forth with you, you know.”

“My coworkers are waiting for me.” You lie, beginning to turn away.

“Come on, I won’t try anything. Promise.” Holding out his pinky toward you, he nods at the table again. “We can’t chat? Like old time friends?”

“We’ve never been friends, Sunghoon.”

“You’re right, whatever we are is so much worse.” He chuckles. Seemingly amused just to be in your presence. “Please? For a little bit?”

“Fine.” You know better than to give him an inch. Sunghoon only knows how to take more and more, but you can’t deny how human he seems now. Those stupid letters go to you.

“Honestly, had no idea you were a fan.” He holds out his hands in defense. Lips dragging down at the corners. “I thought about being a ghost and the Paris opera ghost came up while I googled. Tell me that’s not too perfect.”

“Well, I’m a big fan.” Easing up around him, you stir a tepid drink around. Mostly nursing it instead of drinking. He has to sit close to hear you as music blares, and you try to ignore how good the cologne he’s wearing smells. “It’s probably weird.”

“No no no! Tell me all about it.” Sunghoon couldn’t look happier to be talking to you. Crossing his arms over his chest proudly, he motions for you to continue. “I’m familiar enough to understand.”

“It’s just a really good romance. A tragic one, but good nonetheless.” You shrug, looking over his costume again. “Maybe I’m a sucker for love triangles.”

“I think I’ve caught onto that.” He snorts. Drinking the last sip of his beverage. “Is it like a team Edward or Jacob thing for you?”

“Pfftt.. don’t compare Phantom to that.”

“Well? You must have been on the good guys side. Raoul, right?” Sunghoon taps his chin. “I mean, you know, he was no Edward if you ask me.”

“Can’t stand Raoul.” You mumble. “He wasn’t really that good of a guy.”

“Pftt, tell me about it.” He scoffs under his breath. Lifting both eyebrows at you. “And Phantom, he’s just one hell of a man, huh?”

“You see, I get it. I understand why it’s only implied that Eric and Christine got it on.” You begin to explain, over-using your hands to distract from how awkward this conversation has become. “But, like—it wasn’t enough.”

Sunghoon grins, eyebrows mockingly bouncing up and down. “You little trollop.”

“Trollop?!” You guffaw, rolling your eyes. “You clearly have got to get back to America.”

“No no, don’t try to change the subject.” Snapping his fingers in your face, he nods for you to continue. “Go on, tell me about how you wanted Gaston Leroux to go into extreme detail about Phantom clapping Miss Daaé’s cheeks.”

“Ugh, it’s not that vulgar.” His smile only increases the more you lie and brush around the topic. Blowing out a long gust of air, you stomp and pretend to whine. How the conversation took a flirty tone is beyond you. “Fine! Fine okay! I dabbled in reading a few erotic Phantom of The Opera novels.”

“Do tell darling.” Sunghoon leans in, highly amused. “Got your shit off to some freaky phan-fiction, did you?”

“You’re seriously annoying.”

“I have to know,” he pouts, humming. “How was it?”

“I mean, Christine..” you trail off, bypassing his gaze. “She never really wanted it, I mean she did. But she didn’t—like she..” the tightness budding in your throat causes you to pause, locking with his gaze. “She did, but she acted differently. He really had to make her his..”

His head tilts, cheek dimpling with an arrogant glimmer in his eyes. “Sounds like my kind of girl.”

“Oh yeah? Since when has your style been the difficult type?”

“Sometimes you need to meet the right one to know what you’re looking for.” 

Sunghoon smiles, nodding toward the exit when you don’t keep the conversation going. “The nights still young, want to check out the Halloween parade?”

No. You shouldn’t, but you want to. So you nod and follow him out, keeping your arms pressed tightly against your sides.

Reading letters was definitely a form of emotional cheating, but this, this had to be worse. And deep down inside you knew after this night that Sunghoon Park would never leave you alone. He’d lurk in the shadows, haunt your dreams, chew away at your heart until he could swallow the last beatz

Maybe the darkness that surrounded him reached out toward you for the hundredth time, and maybe you let him in to finally meet yours.

———————————-

~seven years later~

The Eiffel tower is a magnificent sight at night. Lights glow all over the city, reflecting off of the water around. These days you spend a lot of time simply absorbing, taking in the grandiose landscape. 

When morning comes you sit down with a cup of coffee, decaffeinated tea as of late. Stirring a cube of sugar until it melts with the hot water, and you take a deep breath. Paris is romanticized in the media, in reality it’s nothing too special. What makes the city special is the people. From the different street vendors, cafe owners, angry bike riders shouting curses, the snooty designer brand employees bustling and rushing to work. There are certain quirks to the city of love that at times make you laugh.

Because here you are, reminiscing on these last few years. 

Heeseung had moved back after some time, and you couldn’t have been happier. Taking advantage of the short period of time he had no job, you would venture off to other parts of Europe. Finally visited the Swiss Alps during the Winter season. Everything was as beautiful as you always dreamt of, even more with him by your side.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Deep warmth vibrates against your throat. Pressing soft kisses up the side of your neck, he nips at your ear. Complimenting the diamond earrings he’d gifted you on your last anniversary.

“How much I love it here.”

“Can you believe that you almost left?”

That’s right, the flight to Seattle had even been purchased. Making it all the way to your gate before you broke down and cried. The life you’d made in Paris was everything you ever wanted growing up. And he was everything your heart needed. 

“I don’t think you were ever supposed to move back.” Wrapping around your waist from behind, he flattens you back to his chest. Large hands gently resting on the top of your stomach. “I knew ever since that first time, the way your eyes lit up when you stepped off the plane.”

“I hadn’t even left the airport yet.” You scoff, layering your hands on top of his. The sturdy build of his chest eases some of the weight off of your knees, utilizing his strength to lean against. “And I never wanted to leave after that.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Squeezing your hands, he slides them lower to cup around your protruding stomach. Slowly easing your interlaced fingers beneath your bump. “That’s why we’re here.”

Ah yes, there’s three of you to consider now. 

Now, how did this happen? How did you get here? What do your parents think? 

For one, they don’t know.

‘We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.’ He shrugged, ever the type B personality. He never stressed much about anything the way you did. His only stress ever seemed to be you.

‘We hardly ever see them anyway. A few holidays that they make their way over here. What’s my father going to do? Disown me?’ He spoke arrogantly as ever. Smiling cockily and spinning you into his arms to follow him through the living room when you ran in holding a positive pregnancy test.

You’re not even married.

‘You’re having my baby. It’s about damn time.’

God knows he’s been trying to get you knocked up for months now. And maybe he’s right, you’ve worked despite him insisting he can afford to take care of you without your paychecks. But now seemed like the appropriate time to relax, be a stay at home mother.. buy fancy strollers and baby Chanel ballet flats. If you have a girl, of course.

“You ready darling? I know how much you love to stand out here and admire the pollution but we do have dinner reservations.”

“Do we have time to walk?” You ask hopeful, batting your eyelashes. 

“Ahh—“

“Please?”

He’s been such a hard ass ever since you started showing. Making new rules everyday of what you can and cannot do. “I know it’s not far, I saw the confirmation email.”

Clicking his tongue, he playfully glares at you. Rubbing your stomach. “Can’t ever just let me surprise you, can you?”

“Please? Who knows how much longer I’ll be able to see my own feet, let alone walk without waddling.”

Busting into a smile, he nods and directs you to follow him off of the balcony back inside of the house. First, you have to put on a coat, of course, it’s too chilly outside for you to only walk around in a dress. The baby could catch a cold, that’s what he says while getting your arms into a peacoat.

“Already miss wearing my high heels.” You frown at the flats that have begun to take over your closet. Led down the elevator to exit onto the street. His large hand finds yours, taking slow steps to not rush you. Making more effort with his longer legs to keep a light pace.

“Hey, those are $7000 shoes you have on.” He scoffs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “They’re cute.”

“Yeah, they’re cute.” You pout, watching your feet walk down the cobblestone toward the center of town. The convenient location of your ridiculously expensive house was prime real estate, located close enough to everything you’d want walking distance to. 

“They’re cute, you’re cuter.”

“Ahh, you little—“

“Hey.” A nervous smile plays on his lips. Coming around to take a few steps ahead of you, he reaches for the front of your coat and stops you. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“Sunghoon.” You say flatly. Sensing heat climb up your chest despite the crisp night air. “You know I hate when you do this.”

His smile trembles more, biting on his lower lip. “Do you love me?”

“God, I wish I didn’t.” You sigh to hold back a smile. Turning away to not look at how the tip of his nose reddens. The Eiffel towers not too far now, right to your side.. a near perfect spot for..

Him to get down on his knees as he has when you turn back to look at him. 

“I asked you once before if you’d marry me.” His teeth chatter, not from the cold breeze. Blinking at the moisture that rapidly fills his eyes. “You said no.”

“Hoon..”

“And I kept that ring.” The same box from years ago opens up in his hand. The ring he thought screamed your name from the first moment he spotted it in some outrageously priced jewelry store. “I meant what I said back then as much as I do now.”

“You’ve always been crazy.” You manage to say through the wetness filling your throat. Clasping your hands to your face as a sob comes out. 

“Is that why you love me?” Sunghoon’s icy complexion flushes pink. A single tear trickles down his cheek, and his eyebrows scrunch together. Chest beating wildly waiting for you to deny him once again.

“One of the reasons.” You nod, draping one of your hands under your stomach to hold your dress down. “One of many.”

“Do you think that this time, I’ll get the girl?” He asks wearily, holding the ring up. “Will you say yes? Will you spend your life with me?”

“I think that you’ve always had the girl.”

“Good, because I’m nothing without her.” More tears pour down his face. Digging the ring out of the jewelry box, he takes a hold of your hand. 

“Marry me?”

After all of this time, all of this running away, all of these feelings you denied. There is only one answer.

“Yes.”

———————————-

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

what the FUCK

REALISTIC EXPECTATIONS ― S.JY

What should have never been an option became a routine over the years. This year is different though. It’s time to face what’s been done and put an end to it for good…except your step-brother Jake isn’t ready to face it, and your little boyfriend isn’t going to stand in the way of getting what he wants either.  or the one where you made a bad decision in fooling around with your step-brother during your early college days and he refuses to let you put an end to it. 

leave feedback and reblog to support me please! 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 8.9k

PAIRING― step-brother jake sim x afab reader (ft. boyfriend sunghoon)

WARNINGS ― step cest, dub-con/non-con, blackmail, nonconsensual phone sex 

NOTE― MIND. THE. WARNINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALSO, shoutout to anon for giving me this idea.reminder that this is not a representation of me or the idols as real life people. anyway, not proof read.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― non con/dub con, normal size dick jake and mentions of bigger dick sunghoon, implications from jake that sunghoon is actually gay for him, camera use, fisting, degradation, manipulation, phone sex-ish, choking, suffocation, cum stuffing, cream pie, unprotected sex, forced blowjob, crying, break-up implications

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re being ridiculous.” Jake scoffs, leaning against your bedroom dresser with his arms crossed. “We did it last summer, why is this year any different? We always do it.” 

You roll your eyes at him in an attempt to hide the guilt you feel, holding the blanket tightly to your chest in case he tries to pull them off of you again. Jake knows damn well why. Not only should it not have happened last year, or the year before that, or the year before that, but to actively and truly believe it’s something that can continue is something only a mad man would think. 

Not to mention, you have a boyfriend now. A real boyfriend, one who matters in your life.

“Sunghoon have anything to do with this?” He questions you now, reaching for the blanket and tugging. “Come on, playing around isn’t gonna hurt anything. It’s not like anyone is going to know anyway–” 

You huff, yanking your blanket up a bit to pull it from his grasp again. You get why he’s asking and why he’s confused because, well, last summer you were all over the idea like usual. You knew he would expect the same this summer, but honestly, it has to stop. Things have changed. Things needed to change. 

“Jake, we can’t be doing that stuff anymore.” You say as if it’s fine, a bite to your voice that hits him right in the gut. 

In all honesty though, you really do feel guilty. Like you’ve led him on all these years with his sweet, borderline boyfriendly words. You lived in the fantasy with him for a while, like it could work out despite the family ties. There’s a reality though, one that you found yourself living in upon meeting Sunghoon, and there’s a fantasy that you need to pull Jake out of. You feel awful, especially knowing there’s a part of you that would if you could. But…you can’t, nor can he.

Never again. 

Jake feels singled out at this moment. Like he’s the weird one for even asking when you were the one who came onto him when it happened the very first time. All those talks of “we aren’t blood related, it’s not that bad.” and “If our parents divorce, maybe someday we can go on a date or something–” Do they mean nothing now? You’re going to blame him for expecting it?

“Why the fuck not?” He narrows his eyes at you. “Gonna act like you weren’t the one who tried to fuck me at Jay’s party last summer? Acting all high and mighty now, like suddenly it’s so wrong?” 

You look away from him, feeling worse because he’s right. Given, the guilt should have hit you after the first time, but it didn’t. You had your fun pushing boundaries but now that graduation is coming up it’s like..it doesn’t feel right. Did he really just expect the two of you to keep fucking well into adulthood?  Did he expect you to get married to someone else and still get on your knees during family Christmas parties? 

Did he expect to be the one marrying you?

“We have to grow up.” You finally say, shifting your eyes back to him. “This is starting to feel really—gross.” 

“Hey–” He looks at you now, almost pleading. “It’s not gross, we aren’t gross.” He takes two steps towards the bed in a fit of desperation, leaning with his hands now palm-down on your mattress. But…when he tries to follow up on his words, he knows you’re serious.

Realistically, despite having been your step-brother since the beginning of high-school…actively choosing to fuck each other as soon as college started was maybe not the best idea. Hormones were high, the freedom to fuck was blatant, and well…it’s not his fault you’d walk around in all those slutty little pajama shorts and try to jump his bones every time you found yourself alone with him. If anything, you’re the one who pulled him into this. He really did think it was gross at first, but thinking with his dick outweighed that, and then his heart decided to play a part in all of it too. 

He really does think there could be something here if the two of you worked for it. After all, you’re entirely his type, despite marriage ruining it. The breaking of morals eventually became the best part for him, having what his father wishes he could have solely because you’re just a younger, hotter, version of your own mother.

You even said it yourself all that time ago when it first happened. “It’s ok jakey, you’re a guy. guys have needs.” 

Well, what about his needs now?! He was so happy to be able to come home and see you again. He misses you  so much when you’re both away at your respective colleges, and he thinks about you all the time. He should have known that something was changing all those months ago when you stopped texting him back as much as you usually would. Now what? He just has to accept that you’re done?

“You’re seriously not going to give it up?” He pushes his hands under the bottom of your blankets, quickly running his fingers up your legs just to try and encourage a giggle, or a smile from you.

That’s when he notes how you haven’t even shaved your legs. Which, it’s not like he gives two fucks on whether you do or not but like…you always shave. Your skin was always so smooth, plump, soft, and moisturized when you knew you’d be wanting to play around with him. And clearly, you don’t expect to be getting fucked this summer.

Ah, he’s starting to resent you.

“Does that boyfriend of yours know about us?” He finally says, standing tall at the end of your bed and looming much darker than his usual, bright persona. 

You stare at him, eyes widening. 

“Excuse me?” You furrow your brows. “Jake, what the fuck are you sayi–”

Before you can even finish or get a response from him, he’s leaving your bedroom and slamming the door behind him. 

Already you know this is going to be a long fucking summer. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake knew you were a smart girl. You always believe everything he says, but never once has he used that against you until now. That little mention of Sunghoon seems to have made you panic, and he can’t help but find it endearing that you took his threat so easily. Each time he comes home now, from hanging out with your boyfriend, you’re always sitting on the couch like a cute little puppy greeting him with a wagging tail.

If at all, he knows you’re doing it to try and butter him up. To distract him from what you’re taking away from him. Dangling yourself like nothing has changed but denying him time and time again of it. You’re nice, but never this nice. Offering to hang out, watch movies, go out. You’re promising just about everything to him except for the one thing he needs from you. 

He’s thankful though, with all circumstances considered, that the good ol’ parents don’t notice a shift in how you’re acting solely because the two of you have always been close. Even before the sex stuff. You were his best friend. He protected you from highschool bullies, potential assholes trying to steal your first kiss, virginity, and even the first experience of sneaking out. 

Back then, it’s not like Jake ever wanted to be your first kiss, the one to take said virginity, or sneak you out to parties you shouldn’t be at. Truly, he just wanted to protect you. It wasn’t until the two of you were away from each other for the first time as freshmans in college that he felt some type of way towards you. Which, again, was entirely your fault.

Ah, he still remembers that first summer back home walking into the house and being smacked in the face with a sensual, fruity scent radiating off of you. After not seeing you for three and a half months, he was entirely shocked at how much you had changed. You looked…confident in yourself. Like you’d been growing internally and learning what you want in life. He found it very attractive of you, believing that once you get a boyfriend, they’d be very lucky to have you in their life. 

Then of course, you’d bend over in those shorts and look back at him smirking. Like you only saw him as a man now, and not your protective step brother. You’d whine to him about ruined hook-ups, about the frat parties, about all the guys trying to touch you and wishing he was there to keep them off of you. All while…doing that. All while waltzing around like you’d invite him to do the same. 

And you did invite him. That first night has been burned into his memory. The fear, the guilt, the disgust, the love he felt for you. So quiet in his bedroom, giggling to each other with all the lights off in the silence of his room, trying to pretend it was only a one-time thing to satiate a specific need. There was nothing kinky, nothing weird outside of the dynamic of who you were supposed to be to each other.

It kept happening after that, and each time the guilt would wash away with the sweat that always dripped onto you from his temple. You could even say it was shy at first, both of you were very generous to each other. It only started getting dirty as the summers at home continued. 

And now…nothing? After all of that, nothing?! 

If you think you can change so drastically over a single semester, so be it. Jake can change too, and he already has. Both of you now, entirely different compared to that first summer together. You, all jittery and freaked out, him, with all the power. 

You though, truly you’re fucking panicking. If your boyfriend found out about all of this, he’d think you’re a freak. Or a slut. Or a piece of trash. Maybe all three of those things and then some. And you know, you’d think Jake is bluffing…really. Except you got a text from Sunghoon the same night Jake tried to get in your pants. You remember reading those words, the pit in your stomach digging deep. “Your bro is gonna come hang out with me for a bit, you’re coming too right?”

Nevermind the fact that Sunghoon lives an hour away from your hometown, where the two of you get to meet in the middle during active semesters on campus. What about the fact that Jake barely fucking knows him?! Through mutual friends (Jay and Heeseung) all three of you were aware of each other, but you’re the one who got the closest to Sunghoon. 

You’re his girlfriend now. Which, apparently demoted Jake from popular-porn-trope to actual step-brother. 

And that pisses him off. 

So, is it weird for Sunghoon to get a sudden hang out text from a guy he assumed is just wanting to get to know him? No. After all, he knows Jake is your “brother.” What he doesn’t and hopefully will never know is that you’ve fucked said step-brother.

 Is it weird that you don’t go with Jake to see your own boyfriend? Yes. Unfortunately, Jake basically demanded you “stay in your fucking place. if you wanna get fucked so bad, I’ll be home after.” 

Even Sunghoon doesn’t find it weird and texts you everyday as usual. It sucks actually, that he’s so willing to let you do as you please and trusts you to an extent that he doesn’t even ask why you don’t come with Jake. Instead, he’s too busy saying you should definitely join next time, that Jake is super cool and seems to like him a lot. 

The good news: Sunghoon offers no mention of knowing, so…it seems you really do have to stay at home. Empty. Wanting to be next to Sunghoon so bad but forced to deal with any oncoming feelings alone. 

Since when was Jake even capable of being so awful? Since when did he hate you so much?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Jake–please.” You beg quietly, shaking his arm gently in the soft light of the morning. Everyone is sound asleep, which must be fucking nice.

It’s been two weeks now of such loneliness, such lack of sleep, such intense need to just let yourself spiral and drown in anxiety. Jake is barely talking to you now, only giving you sarcastic and evil little smiles from time to time. As if to remind you of what’s at risk. Sunghoon is normal, too normal. So normal, in fact, that he tried to jerk off on facetime last night for you and you ended up crying and apologizing because you couldn’t even get turned on. 

Even if Jake hasn’t told him anything, your relationship is already starting to fall apart because of him. He fucking knows it too. 

“Please,”

“Please, what?” Your step-brother's sleepy voice croaks out, turning himself on the bed towards you with a single half opened eye. 

“I’m losing sleep, please stop doing this to me.”

“No.” He says now, closing his eyes again and turning away from you, nuzzling against his pillow without a care in the world. 

“Please.” 

“Fuck off–” He complains, throwing his arm behind himself to shove you away and surprised to find that you’ve crawled up on the bed with him.

Just like that night so long ago, the first time the two of you broke past any boundaries. 

“I’ll do anything.” You nearly cry, so sleepy, so anxiety ridden, so out of your mind at this point that you genuinely would do anything to feel normal again. 

“Anything?” 

You feel slight relief in his interest, nodding your head aggressively with a broken voice. “Yes! I promise. I swear, anything you want. Please, just–”

“Then get the fuck out of my room.” 

You know better than to disobey at this point. All you can do is sulk back to your room and hope that sleep overtakes you this time. If anything, maybe he will consider your plea in the morning.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s surprising, honestly. Jake didn’t even know he was into seeing you suffer like this, let alone having power over you. He spent so much time protecting you that he never realized how attractive it is to see you fear him. The joy that runs through him now, the orgasms he gets out of it, fuck. Who cares if it’s his own hand doing the work right now? With the thoughts of you doing “anything” like you said, being disgusting, begging, pleading, crying. He might be a little insane for you now, if he wasn’t already. 

And still even today, you look so desperate for any amount of relief. Jake finds joy in the fact that you can’t even go to your boyfriend about it. 

He’s never felt so powerful, truly. Especially now, watching you try to seduce him as if you didn’t deny him of it before. The slutty shorts are back. You’re not wearing bras anymore. You’ll leave the bathroom stark fucking naked if it happens to just be you and him at home.

Ah, heaven on earth. Honestly, his days are so fun now. Save for when he has to hang out with that fucking idiot of a man Sunghoon. What a loser, honestly. Openly sharing all the stuff you’ve done in bed with him like Jake isn’t your step-brother? If anyone is weird, it’s Sunghoon. Hell, Jake isn’t even sure now if the dude would care if he found out that you’ve ridden some related-by-marriage cock before. 

He hates hanging out with him. Always having to hold back the scoffs when Sunghoon is drunkenly slurring out more sex acts you’ve performed on him followed by a love confession and a whine of how much he misses you. As if you didn’t do all of that for Jake first. Ugh, he genuinely can’t believe that you’re even with Sunghoon at all. 

After a little while longer though, with the great days and the annoying hang outs, a nice month into summer vacation– Jake’s been ready to take what he needs. You’ve been begging for it, after all. He loves looking and seeing you so desperate for him to stop the mind games but goddamn it’s getting hard to think straight himself by now.

Thankfully, he’s thinking clearly enough whether it’s through his cock rather than his brain to come up with how he’ll go about it. He waits a little more, cock throbbing in his pants due to not allowing himself to get off in the past two days in preparation for this. 

Every night when everyone goes to bed, you call Sunghoon. And every night, Jake has listened. Tonight though? Sunghoon will be the one listening.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Like clockwork, the parents have gone to bed and Jake hears the hushed muttering just a room over. He’s already standing to his feet, shooting a hand directly to his bulge to adjust it with a silent groan in his throat. Before he can even leave his room he’s rolling his eyes back with another grope of his sensitive cock, almost unable to stop touching himself after denying himself of it. He’s practically drooling at the image of having you all to himself again. The anticipation he feels inside right now is insane. He feels his skin prickle and his eyes are barely able to focus on his own bedroom door out of sheer arousal of what he’s about to do to you.

He composes himself shortly after, as best he can anyway, tiptoeing to your room and chuckling at the way your eyes light up when you see him. He’s ignored you for too long. Not a single response to anything you’ve said to him, hell, he even stopped letting you see him look at you. 

Of course your eyes light up, it means he’s going to stop. It means he’s going to tell you what he wants. 

And you’re happy, even with Sunghoon on the line sweet talking to you about his day like usual. 

“Hoonie, can I call you back?” You ask quickly into the phone, only to see Jake take a seat next to you on your bed and shake his head at you. 

You tilt your head in question, feeling your heart thump in your ears to the point you barely even hear Sunghoon at all. 

“Keep talking to him.” He whispers to you now, nearly just mouthing it. 

You never knew you were so good at reading lips, but you listen to him. Furrowing your brows in question and adjusting your phone against your ear.

“Nevermind, we’re good.” You say in a voice too calm for Jake’s liking. 

And it’s like that for a few minutes as Jake lets you get into the groove of conversing with your boyfriend again before he makes a move. The move he makes? Leaning against you, pressing you back against your pillows, and licking your neck.

He smiles against your skin when he feels it prickle and lets out a whispered chuckle at how much he’s missed the taste of your skin. So warm, so soft. The fact that you’re letting him tells him all he needs to know, despite the way your shoulders stiffen, he knows you’re going to give him anything.

“Gonna let me fuck it again, yeah?” Jake whispers as he moves up against your ear, pinning your arms to your chest, forcing your phone closer to his mouth compared to yours. “Gonna let him hear it too.”

Ah, there she is. You, in all your glory, are already tearing up at the very idea of it. 

“Jake, no.” You say, holding your hand over the speaker and body language trying to twist away from him. 

“You said anything.” Jake corrects you quietly, slapping your hand off of the speaker and quickly thrusting his own hand between your legs.

He chooses not to be gentle with you this time. He’s not going to be what you’re used to, not after that shit you tried to pull with him. His finger pushes in dry, and he smiles at the way you hold your breath and try to squeeze your legs shut to stop him. Sunghoon on the other end is muffled, but still heard by both of you. 

You stay silent throughout his ministrations, pissing him off further, only making him move his hand faster, forcing a reaction, daring you to stop him. 

“Phone.” Jake instructs, loosening his other grip on your hands as a means to let you raise the phone back up to your ear. “Talk.”

You stare at him, feeling the burning between your legs of where your body has yet to do anything more than tighten around his fingers. Still, they drag painfully due to your body feeling no pleasure in this. In fact, you’re afraid. 

You’re afraid Sunghoon will find out, afraid of Jake, afraid of showing that you like what he’s doing, afraid of realizing you’ll always like this, afraid of losing either of them solely because you can only love, fuck, and be with one of them.

And it’s obvious who the one has to be because…the other isn’t possible. It’s just not. 

So, you try. You try to talk, try to relax, try to do everything Jake asks of you solely to prolong the situation enough to where you can find a way to put a proper, healthy end to it. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You finally croak into the phone, having not heard a single word from Sunghoon this entire time and trying not to focus on that same drag Jake only pushes harder into you with that terrifying smirk. 

“I asked if that was Jake I just heard–” Sunghoon responded as brightly as always, bless him. 

“Speaker.” Jake mouths to you, and of course you listen. Reluctantly, but you still do it, shaking fingers hitting the speaker-phone button so Jake can hear what’s being said.

“What are you guys doing? Let me hear what?” Sunghoon continues. 

Jake flashes a full grin at you and wiggles his eyebrows before he’s pulling his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth, then moving back down with three before shoving them back in with even more force. 

“Yeah– Tell him.” Jake says as casually as ever. “Go on, let him in on the secret we’ve been keeping from him.” 

Sunghoon hears Jake all too well, but doesn’t question that it’s anything weird. If at all, he wonders if maybe you two have been planning something behind his back considering you never come over when Jake does. Which is actually weird, but he tried not to question it. He and you are practically attached at the hip during the semesters, so, this would make sense. 

Of course there is a secret surprise for him! 

“I–” You yelp both out of pain and unintentional pleasure, cutting yourself off in a gasp. 

You can feel the pit in your stomach dig deeper and deeper, arousing you when it’s the last thing you could ever want at this moment. You know Jake feels it though, with the slide of his fingers becoming easier, and that permanent smile on his face. 

Sunghoon feels so far away right now…Like, who are you kidding? He can’t get you out of this and you doubt he’d even want to if you were to ever even consider explaining it to him. 

“I–I miss you a lot.” You try to come up with words, missing him being all that you can muster up right now. 

Unfortunately, Jake’s scary smile is less terrifying compared to his face now, where he narrows his eyes and glares straight through you for saying such a thing in front of him. He’s trying to crowd four fingers into you now, making you squirm and squeeze your legs together again. He is quick to disallow you though, forcing one of your legs open with his shoulder and spitting directly on your stretched and pulsing hole. 

“I miss you too baby–” Sunghoon says in a slightly confused voice. “What else?”

You pause, taking a moment to feel Jake between your legs and how much it…god, it feels so good. But– you’re unsure of how to balance speaking with Sunghoon and dealing with Jake right now. If you have to deal with them both at the same time…this isn’t what you’d prefer. 

“I wish you were here right now.” 

Sunghoon smiles on his end, assuming Jake has now left your room due to the silence and lack of hearing him now. 

“Is Jake still around?” He mutters to you through the speaker, because based on your tone of voice, he knows what mood you’re in.

Jake shakes his head at you, encouraging that you lie before focusing back on watching the hole he’s missed so much. The one Sunghoon’s probably played with before, that fucking loser. 

“Nope–J–Just me!” You find yourself forcing a smile as you say it, just to hope your voice comes out in a way that sounds brighter than it feels. 

“You wish I was there?” Sunghoon says now, his own voice growing deeper. “Why’s that?” He spreads his legs out wide against his bed, assuming it’s about to be a regular session of facetime fucking. 

“Mhm,” You accidentally moan, a bit too obvious. “Just feel safe with you when I’m feeling like this.”

Jake rolls his eyes, slowly forcing his thumb in beside the rest of his fingers, growing more angry, more aroused, and more insatiable towards you. 

“How are you feeling right now baby?” 

“Empty.” 

“Wish you were full of something?” Sunghoon smiles, a cheeky voice calling out to you. “Of me?”

You groan at that moment, all of Jake’s fingers stretch you open until you feel knuckles trying to force past the boundary. Your hands shake at the feeling as your eyes cross momentarily, tears prickle from the pain but it feels so…good. And only a moment goes by before you, quite literally, kick Jake away. 

The sudden emptiness you get from that feels so much better, but Jake is too quick to get back up. Fire in his dark eyes as he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you roughly down the bed. There is a small sound that escapes your lips at the action, almost a giggle. You’re quick to tighten your lips though, trying to will your body to stop liking the way Jake is being with you right now. You don’t want this, you don’t like it. You never should have in the first place, and to be honest, you’re trying to force yourself to believe you’re making the right choice in continuing to deny him of this.

It’s only natural that your body wants it, just like it was natural to kick him off of you from the pain, right? And then, Jake reminds you of just how much you regret denying him the first night back home, because he's leaning over you so fast, hugging your waist and forcing all five fingers back into you. 

You kick, squirm, whine, and ultimately shout out a “No, no, no!” despite your hips chasing up to let him, almost to invite him. And–oh, fuck. You forgot Sunghoon can hear all of this. 

“Baby?” Sunghoon’s voice rings back in your ears. “Are you okay? You’re already touching yourself? Why do you sound so–” 

Jake’s own ears are ringing watching your body fight your brain. You still want him. He can tell by the way you look at him with those tear-filled eyes, with the way your pussy is dripping for this, the way your hips beg him to keep abusing you. Who is he to deny you? He has never denied you pleasure. So, he tries to force more, more, more into you. There’s a boundary here, your pussy clenched so tight around his fingers already, but you want him to keep pushing until he breaks the boundary. You want to feel the pain of it and…finally, he does get it in. His entire hand being gripped so tightly that even he seethes out a pained moan for you.

“Fuck–” He holds his fist in place, removing himself from your waist to look at you. “You really took it all.”

There’s tears in your eyes by this point and you can’t tell if it’s from realizing how much you need Jake, or the fact that Sunghoon definitely knows something is up. No words are coming out though, you’re more afraid to speak what you feel than you are of Jake right now.

“Jake?” Sunghoon questions, confused. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” Jake responds with a smile instantly, staring right at you as he begins to fuck a size far too big into you, watching you bite your tongue to keep from showing him how much you love it. 

“Wait–” Sunghoon continues with a pause. “What’s going on?” 

“I couldn’t help myself.” Jake smiles at you, wiggling his eyebrows again. “After all those things you told me about her, I guess I needed to see for myself.” 

And then, you moan. That searing pain inside of you somehow subsides, shaking legs and hands are gripping onto Jake in his entirety now, you’re practically drooling for it.

“I guess you were right.” Jake continues. “She really can take a lot, huh? Bet your dick didn’t feel this good for her though.”

You’re truly unable to comprehend most of what’s happening right now, even the phone vibrating in your hand as Sunghoon goes silent and instead, hangs up before instantly facetiming you. You’re so hyper-fixated on the feeling of knuckles dragging against your tightly clenched walls, choking back every sound or word you want to scream out. 

Jake watches as you cry a bit harder now, probably a bit too overwhelmed with the situation. Like the good step-brother he is though, He’ll take care of it for you, of course he will. 

“What’s the hold up?” Jake laughs, halting his hand as he reaches for the phone and instantly answers it. He stares down as you continue to fuck yourself on it, smiling at your brief whine before he speaks into the receiver with a confident voice. “Cat’s outta the bag.”

Sunghoon is there on the screen, witnessing the way Jake angles the phone more at himself and your hole than your face. His entire fist has disappeared inside of you, glistening with a sticky mess that spills out of you. 

Nothing else is said as Sunghoon stares at it. Jake being a cocky bastard and sticking his tongue out like some idiot frat boy, and then? He hears you.

“Jake, stop!” You cry out. 

He doesn’t stop, in fact, he fucks his fist into you quickly making damn sure Sunghoon can not only see how your wet spurts out around his wrist, but hear it too. 

“Stop what? Showing your boyfriend what you really want?” 

“Hang up the phone!” You cry out again, showing Sunghoon that perhaps…you don’t miss him at all.

Jake isn’t doing anything you don’t want. You just don’t want your boyfriend to witness you be so honest with yourself. 

“Awh,” Jake pouts now, angling the phone back at himself and feeling proud of the way Sunghoon appears to be entirely shocked, mouth hung open, eyebrows furrowed. “But he needed to know, baby, didn’t he?” He adds now, lying the phone down briefly to pull his cock out. 

“Come on now, don’t be shy.” Jake continues with his confidence, picking the phone back up and angling it towards you. 

He intentionally drags his fist in and out of you a few more times before gently pulling it out, moaning at the way it sounds, obsessing over it really. Sunghoon watches in horror at the way you squeeze your eyes shut, sadly wondering what Jake must be doing off screen for you to look so fucking guilty. The horror only grows when he has to watch Jake’s cock come on screen, pussy soaked hand jerking himself off before shoving the head right against your lips.

God, you know Sunghoon hates you now. 

Jake knows it too, and doesn’t care as he uses that same soaked hand and pries your lips apart before pushing it into your mouth. He thrusts forward too quick for you to take a breath, and you feel the leaking tip hit the back of your throat in a way that makes you choke and gag around him. 

Your eyes shoot open, looking up at him and barely able to comprehend the camera just inches from your face. 

Sunghoon has seen you look up at him like this too. Why aren’t you fighting Jake though? Why are you willingly gagging, choking, and drooling all over yourself with such a forceful fuck to your face? You always pull off of him when he tries to thrust even a little bit…but you’re..

“I–” Sunghoon goes to say, still staring at you and the way you’re shamefully getting your mouth fucked open. “That is fucking disgusting.” He finally lets out, but he can’t look away. He doesn’t want to see this but…he can’t bring himself to hang up. 

“Yeah, that’s what she thinks too.” Jake chuckles with a heaved breath, enjoying himself, now angling the phone at his face. “I think she likes it though– wouldn’t you agree?”

There goes the camera again, pointing right at your choking mouth. Jake pushes all the way in too, letting your nose rest against his pelvis and moaning loudly for Sunghoon to hear.

“Shit, see? She’s not even fighting it.”

Sunghoon can’t tell only because Jake doesn’t let him. You’re gripping Jake’s hips and trying to push him out of your mouth, but he stays in place, enjoying the way your choking and suffocating throat jerks him off better than his own hand ever could. 

The best part? He knows you’re only pushing him away to breathe because you weren’t fighting at all at first. In fact, he felt you silently hum against him like you want his cock so bad. So, he’s not actually lying. He just thinks it’s polite to not let Sunghoon know how you’re suffocating right now. 

Oh well. 

Only after your eyes start to fog over and roll back does Jake pull out, relishing in that wet gasp you lend. He looks down at the phone now, wanting to make sure Sunghoon witnessed all of that before realizing he fucking hung up.

Who the fuck hangs up on imagery like that? Fucking idiot, is what Sunghoon is. 

To be fair though, Sunghoon hung up shortly before Jake pulled out. He had to force himself to do it, because he didn’t quite enjoy the way his cock jumped at the image of his girlfriend letting her step-brother fuck her mouth like that. He’s entirely blindsided. Like, not only are you cheating on him, but he had to see it like that?! In 4k?! God, his stomach would be in knots to catch you like this with anyone, but the fact that it’s with…Jake. Of all people.

You’re fucking your own brother. 

None of that matters to Jake though, nor does it matter to you at this moment as the tears continue to pour from your eyes knowing that Jake did this on purpose and for a reason. It’s insane how kind he is to you now that Sunghoon isn’t watching, actually. Lending you a deep, meaningful kiss before sinking back down the bed and resuming his previous position. 

“You liked this.” He comments, seeing if his hand will still fit, and moaning when it does. “You’re so fucking wet it’s insane.”

God, you know he’s punishing you yet you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it because already you can feel the bubbles in your stomach threaten an orgasm. Proving to both Jake and yourself that…you do like it. Never have you even imagined wanting a whole goddamn fist in you before now but–you more than like it. You love it. 

In fact, feeling his hand dragging in and out of you now makes you forget about the way you nearly just died with a cock in your throat. You’re already moaning again, actually. 

And fuck, you promised you’d do anything to keep this a secret, and while doing that anything for him, no matter how willing, he still fucking told. He fucking showed the dirty acts to the last person on earth you’d ever want to see, hear, or know. The crying is a given, from both the anxiety, the fear, and the pleasure because you can’t stop the oncoming orgasm or the love you have for the man giving it to you either. 

The way he holds you through it should disgust you, with his fist buried so deep your orgasm comes in long, drawn out and painful waves. He grips onto you though, whispering more to himself against your thigh than to you, “I’ve got you. I’ll always have you, it’s okay.” 

You don’t want to melt for him, but you do. Even through your ringing ears it’s like your body instinctively hears his whispers when you shouldn’t. The words bring comfort, reminding you that he’ll still protect you even from Sunghoon and what he feels about this situation. Even from your parents, from outsiders, from everything. 

The orgasm feels like it bruises your brain, a throbbing headache coming shortly after when Jake takes on a more gentle persona and pulls his hand from you. He inspects your open cunt for a moment, seeing how wet it is inside for him before it pulses closed and he averts his gaze to his hand. 

Glistening, so wet. You needed that, he thinks. The reminder that he’s the only one who can love you in more ways than you truly need. 

“You did so well.” He compliments, crawling up and over you to wipe those tears with the same hand. 

You don’t move away, if anything you need this comfort now more than anything because you simply don’t know what to feel, or think, or admit right now. You think Jake already knows, he wouldn’t need you to say it simply because he’s always read you like a book. 

“No more pretending you don’t want this.” He says now, in a darker voice. “Even with Sunghoon listening, you moaned my name. I don’t think you remember doing that, do you?”

You cry more, closing your eyes tightly and pretending like Jake’s hand is Sunghoon’s. You really liked Sunghoon, genuinely thought you could have a future with him. Even so, pretending that Jake is him doesn’t bring safety because you almost would prefer it be Jake. A hand you’re so familiar with. 

He had been so awful to you recently, and only now do you realize that…maybe it really was for your own good.

“You don’t need him.” Jake says now, adjusting himself between your legs.“Not when you have me. You know I’ll take care of you.” He continues, slipping his cock deep into your already loosened hole. 

He’s shocked that you still manage to be tight after all of that, but he guesses that’s just how pussies work. Or how yours works, anyway. He knows it more than he knows his own cock at this point, which is insane. 

Feeling him inside of you, so familiar, slightly smaller than Sunghoon– it’s…comforting. The tears that spill from you now are more for missing him than anything. You can’t help it when you wrap your legs around him or throw your arms around his shoulders, shivering and clinging to him like he’s your last line of sanity despite everything about this being entirely insane. 

“Jake–” You moan at how he fucks you, so much softer than with his hand but…normal. Like the first time you ever did this with him. “I really want you but,”

Jake pauses, feeling that same pit in his stomach at how you say those words.

“What you just did to me could ruin my life.” You finally say, still clinging, not at all asking him to stop. “What you’re doing right now, will ruin my life.”

“Don’t be silly. Your life will be ruined without me, baby, you know that, right?” He says, reminding you of who has the power by quickening his hips and pointing his cock directly at your already sensitive g-spot. “You can’t say no to me, you tried and still you want me.”

You nod your head in agreement despite wishing he was wrong. 

“We can’t.” You say to him in a half-groaned whisper. “I’m begging you to stop.” 

If at all, you’re just begging him to stop being what you want. To stop being able to have a hold over you like this. To stop being everything that Sunghoon isn’t and still being the most desirable man in your life. To stop being your step-brother. To stop being a taboo in your life, if only to become someone you’re allowed to need like this. 

“No.” Jake says, unknowing of what you’re actually asking of him. “I’ll never stop.”

With those words, you moan. He’s promising something that neither of you should feel or need, but you accept it. Shocked at the way you feel him inside of you like always, no pain, or lack of feeling from the previous size fucked into you. It’s just…Jake. Intentionally fucking you harder to punish you for words that are actually fighting more for him than against him. 

“Okay.” You whimper, falling silent with your broken voice fading into nothing but cries of the inevitable. 

For all Jake knows, you’re asking him to stop this. What he’s doing to you right now, not for anything else that you meant it for. For your own sake, because you know that after this, you truly may not be able to pull yourself from this fantasy with him. Technically, he’s showing you that he’s willing to hurt you to keep you. To take it from you if that’s what it takes to get what he wants. And that hurts a lot to know, a pain deep within you making you spiral a little more than you ever thought you could.

He’d really go as far as to keep going when you’re crying for him to stop? If just to show you that he…loves you? No, maybe just that he wants this, he wants you. 

You want this, but it’s the fact that he just knows. Even if you say no, even if you beg or plead for him to stop, he’ll just keep going because he knows better than you that you’ll always want him in return. Even if you’re lying to yourself, even if you were able to truly convince yourself that this isn’t at all what you want. Even if it feels like Jake is committing atrocities right now, he knows he’s not. He’s not, even if you say he is. 

And at the end of the day, right now. He truly isn’t. 

You can feel your heart rotting at all that’s lost now. A life with someone normal. A life where you’re normal and can be seen hand in hand with the love of your life as you grocery shop, or get ice cream, or even just take the future dog on a walk. Your dreams are dying, and you can’t stop them. 

You feel a burning pain throughout your body at the force of him now, seemingly trying to fuck your concern away from you. Only now do you open your eyes to look at him, he’s just shapes now. Your tears are messing up the normal clear view you’d have, but you can tell he’s smiling lovingly. 

He doesn’t care that he just ruined your relationship, he doesn’t care that you’re his step-sister, he doesn’t care nor think of how the future could work if he were to keep trying to follow this path, and continue to make you realize you’ll willingly walk down it with him….not when he’s getting this from you. 

Not when he knows that, now at least, he’ll always get what he wants.

You cling harder to him now, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you lift to his shoulder and tuck your face there, replacing your lip with his warm and pulsing skin. Jake is pleasantly surprised by this, after all that he did to you, he really thought he’d have to work harder to get these lips to willingly suck on his skin again without him puppeteering you. 

“Yeah?” He turns his face against your forehead as you suck, still crying and tasting the salt from your tears mixed with the saliva you’re drooling onto him. “Sunghoon can’t make you feel this good?” He continues to talk himself up. 

You remain silent as you try to drown out your thoughts with the pleasure he gives instead, feeling the way his normally gentle hands are rough holding you up, feeling the way your body shifts with each thrust up, hearing the way he breathes for you, speaks for you, and moans for you. 

You hate to say you love it right now. Hate that you let your dream of a normal life die so easily. Hate you love him enough to let him do this to you, really. 

“Jake–” You hiccup, exhausted. “I can’t believe you’d go this far.” 

Only in those words do you realize how taboo and…erotic it is. To have a man willing to not only claim you as his own through forcing jealousy on your boyfriend and pain on you, but you guess the borderline sexual assault is another thing. 

It’s not that you’re into it. In fact, you’re terrified of that. But it’s just…the way he knows you is attractive. The way he will protect you from any situation he caused…turns you on, even if he’s the one you need protecting from. God, the way he’ll fuck you through all the lies you tell yourself. 

Shit.

“I’d go further.” He chuckles, out of breath as he chases the expanse of your clenched walls. “Would’ve brought you to his house and fucked you right there at his front door. Let everyone know.”

You shake your head out of fear of that situation at first, and then suddenly find yourself smiling and losing your mind a bit. God, that would be hot if it were like, you know, not something that would get you disowned by not only family, but literally everyone aside from Jake. 

“Should’ve seen his face, baby–” Jake moans just thinking about it, loving that he has what no one else can have. “Said he was disgusted but…I think he was turned on. Really, couldn’t look away from you sucking my dick like that– God,” He cuts himself off by grabbing at you, shoving you back down and into your pillows, both hands running up your shirt and pushing it up to your collarbone. He gropes and pinches at your tits, half of his plush bottom lip caught between his teeth as sweat drips into his eyelashes. 

“Couldn’t tell if he wished he was me–” A sarcastic laugh. “or maybe even you.” His moans continue to mesh with his laughter, now moving one hand to your neck and leaning down to lick against your lips with another pointed thrust. “I’d never fuck anyone better than I’ll fuck you though.”

“Gotta say, if he wanted it bad enough, he’d look pretty choking on it too. Never as pretty as you.” He continues talking, and talking, and talking. 

You don’t really process his words though, or recognize if he’s being truthful or just making shit up, nor do you care. To be fair, there isn’t anything in this world left to care about aside from him now. Not yourself, not Sunghoon, your parents, or anyone out wandering the world right now. 

“Stop–” You moan at the way he rubs his pelvis against your clit with his now, deeper thrusts. “Stop fucking talking about him.”

He smiles wide against your lips in victory, feeling his muscle tense up at you asking to forget about Sunghoon. And so, he listens to you for the first time since you’ve been home, he fucking listens. 

Jake says nothing now, instead he focuses his hips and notes how now, your pussy feels too used. Or maybe his cock is just numb and oversensitive, he’s not sure. It’s not hard really, to reach down and shove three fingers into you alongside his cock, offering extra sensation to both his balls and the underside of his length as he continues to fuck into you with what he can only assume to be a painful stretch. 

His body shivers with an embarrassing moan at that, rolling his eyes back. 

“You hate him?” Jake says, but it sounds more like a plea for you to agree as he chases an orgasm far too fucking close. 

You don’t respond because at this point his words are just there as fluff in your head. You’re more focused on the insecure feeling inside of you at how he’s had to use his hand to help him get off. It...feels so bad knowing that you can’t give him what he wants after all this. After you promised. And, so, you build up the courage to lift quickly, catching him off guard, and hug him around his neck. 

There, his fingers skew slightly, to the point it’s painful for him to keep them in place and he’s forced to pull them back and instead, hold you up in his own hug as he spirals. God, he missed you so much. Look at you now, after trying to deny him, deny yourself of wanting this. You’re bouncing on him like you always have, frantically moving your hips with no rhyme or reason, solely to get him off. 

He lets out a loud moan, not caring if your parents wake up to it. Not caring about anything but the pussy choking his cock out now. The change in position offered a new form of tightness, and he doesn’t need an extra boost of pleasure anymore. Not with you breathing against his mouth like this, still crying, except now it’s like you’re crying because he hasn’t gotten off yet. 

“Yeah, that’s it.” He nods his head, lips playing with yours with each nod of his head as he squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck, you always know what I like.”

Just like that, all of your insecurity is washed away. You feel him twitch inside of you, and the way his hands nearly bruise you in this hug feels…right. It’s what you need, what you want. 

“He ever cum in you?” Jake pants out, noting the way you aggressively shake your head in an answer. 

And normally, he’d pull out. Normally, there’s a condom involved in this. Not today though, even as you note the familiar sound choking from his throat, and that even more familiar twitch of his cock. You try to pry yourself away from him, palms pressing on his chest as you argue. 

“Jake! Pull out, Let me up!” 

He doesn’t let you though. Instead, he grabs both of your wrists and presses you right back down on the bed, overpowering you through his orgasm and fucking all of that cum right into you. Intentionally, with purpose. 

“No,” He croaks out in a breath, still lost in his orgasm. “I won’t.” 

You try to wiggle away from him still, despite knowing he’s already started cumming. What’s the point now if not just to still have some type of control over your own body? He, again, doesn’t let you, pressing your wrists painfully into your own stomach, forcing you to feel each pulse and spurt of him for the first time through the pressure of his hold.

He’s never done this to you before, then again, This isn’t the same Jake you’re used to no matter how much you try to relate the feelings and love to the Jake you were with last summer. And…you need to lie to yourself right now at how good it feels to have him fuck his cum into you well past his orgasm, because admitting it would be the last thing you could do tonight to really throw you off the deep end. 

He makes you admit it though, still fucking his cock into you regardless of how it’s growing softer and softer by the second. Doing it solely because he knows more cum will drip out as he shrinks back down. He wants to feel each second of your walls clenching, trying to push him out and knowing it never can. 

He holds you down harder now, wincing at his own sensitivity as he plays with himself inside of you, lending pained chuckles and eye rolls with each sound of disgust you make towards him for it. And only after he slips out and can’t manage to fold it back into you does he really look at you. 

Tilting his head with an innocent smile on his face, he releases your hands and shoots his own up to your face, cupping both cheeks before leaning down and kissing you as hard as he can with what little breath he has left. 

“I deserved that.” He says between kisses. “You deserved it.” He sounds slightly irritated saying that part, but his kiss stays gentle and sweet. “You owed me this.”

You’re not sure if he meant any of that, but you find yourself agreeing. 

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

I 100% believe this is a real situation Jake would get himself into—that’s how you know the fic is good.

CUNNILINGUIST ― s.jy (ft. p.sh)

Unfortunately for you, no man has ever given you some good head. Fortunately for you, your best friend is more annoyed by it than you are. It’s just a favor, right? or the one where your best friend jake eats you out as a way to admit his own feelings for you, also, apparently sunghoon existing is an issue.

minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog to give bestie jake conflicting feelings

WORDCOUNT― 16.1 k

PAIRING― jake x afab reader (ft. sunghoon)

CONTENT― a lot of waiting, like to the point it even annoyed me, very fluffy stuff , typical best friends to fuck buddies to “actually, I had feelings this whole time”, jealousy, jake is whiny and needy when he’s horny, reader thinks it’s cute. angst if you’re a baby about it

OTHER CHARACTERS― sunghoon as the mutual friend who bangs reader

NOTE― this was originally written by me on my other blog [@/ncteez], if you’ve read it before, that’s why!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― BIG DICKED BESTIE, pussy eating (he gets IN THERE), masturbation in the form of dry humping a mattress and then into his hand, finger fucking, cum eating, sunghoon hook up, morning sex, lazy fingering, lazy fuck, dirty talk , unprotected sex, awkward build up,raw grinding, no blowjob in sight sorry lmao, deep penetration, cream pie, kind of cum stuffing but like not entirely intentional, cheesy love stuff 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What? Again?” Jake says, leaning back against the couch with a groan and a smack to his own forehead.

“Yeah, so basically he went down on me for less than a minute but expected me to, like, go long enough to ‘swallow’ or whatever.” You continue the story in a frustrated huff, shaking your head in self-pity.

Jake groans louder, leaning himself forward again and swiping his drink from your coffee table to take a long and thoughtful sip. 

“How many times is that, then?” He says between sips, glancing around the room as if he’s in deep thought. “I can’t help but think you pick these kinds of guys on purpose at this point.”

You look at him in mock pain, grabbing his drink and taking your own thoughtful sip of it.

“I dunno, they always talk big game during phone sex and stuff. I figure eventually one of them will live up to it.” You drone on, internally marking your recent date’s name off of your call-back list. 

“Be honest with me, have you ever actually gotten good head? Like how would you know if they’re bad if you have nothing good to compare them to?” Jake asks, letting you mindlessly drink his beverage.

It’s not weird to be having these types of conversations with him, if at all, something would seem off if you didn’t. He’s the only person in your life that you’ve ever felt this close to. At this point, you think he’d have to chase you down with a bloody hatchet for things to be awkward. Which is…kind of interesting, you guess.

“Well, I mean,” You think for a moment too long for his liking, but he gives you the space to finish your answer. “It feels good and all but it’s not like I’ve ever gotten off by it.”

“Correction –” Jake starts, blinking right at you. “You’ve never been given the chance to get off on it.” His bright  smile shows through his words, and you’re sure he’s mocking you at this point.

“Yeah, yeah. Yada, yada. I have terrible taste in sexual partners but to be fair, it’s not like the pool is that big to choose from.”

He nods in agreement, humming as if to end the conversation and still watching you sip at his drink.

“Would you be opposed to–” He pauses, making eye contact with you. “Y’know, I could do it for you.”

You pause, nearly dropping his drink out of your hand but thankfully your grip actually tightens on it instead. You swallow as you look at him, searching his face to see if this is some kind of joke.

“Jae-fucking-yun,” You deadpan, sitting his cup back down on your coffee table and leaning toward him, staring him down. “You’d really do that, for me?”

You bat your eyelashes at him, mostly playing it off as a half-joke just to see if he’s fucking with you or not. 

“How else are you gonna experience it?” 

You stare him down harder.

“You say that like you’re some sort of pussy-eating-god,” You narrow your eyes. “Are you?”

He shrugs casually with his little smile, leaning back on your couch and stretching his arms out. One of his hands lands behind your shoulder and you lean into it. 

“I’d let you be the judge of that if you’re up for it.”

Finally, you decide that he’s definitely not joking and you’re definitely gonna do it because like, that’s your best friend. Experiencing your firsts with him comes almost as naturally as walking. You had your first kiss with him, albeit it was a dare. You experienced your first concert with him, your first break up, your first failed exam, and even your first legal drink in a club. What’s so bad about letting him eat you out?

“Right now?” You ask, quirking your brow and tilting your head.

“Now, tomorrow, next week. Whenever.” He runs his hands through his hair as he says it and only now are you starting to really tune into his features that you’ve already found handsome.

Day after day you’ve seen him on this couch and in other states of dress without really thinking twice about how his lips would feel on you (despite that short first kiss). You’ve seen him kissing all up on other people, you’ve seen him in the club with wet lips from alcohol, you’ve seen him all messy and eating spaghetti at his parent’s house– but for some reason, his lips seem different now. His sleepy eyes seem different, his messy hair seems like something that should be tugged on, his fucking jawline– 

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” He looks at you up and down as if he’s judging. “You wanna go right now?”

You nod slowly, letting the traces of any lusty thoughts you’ve had about him in your life come to the front in waves. Then you quickly shake your head.

“Wait, no,” You roll your eyes more at yourself than him. “I haven’t showered since my date, maybe I should, uh…”

“Uh – yeah. Please do.” He grimaces, that same dopey smile coming back after a moment. 

“Fair.” You roll your eyes. “Gonna go shower then.” 

Part of you wonders if like, he’s being totally legit. For all you know, you’ll get out of the shower and he’ll be too busy doing something else, or like, he’ll go home or something. No hurt in seeing though.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

In the bathroom, you can’t help the feeling in your chest at even the thought that this may be about to happen.

Excitement. That’s what you feel. Not because it’s Jake. Well, maybe a little bit because you wanna see what his tongue is all about but more so because you’re about to get some presumably good head.

You shower thoughtfully, cleaning every part of your body and feeling little goosebumps rise and fall with each sensation of your air conditioning snaking its way past your shower doors. When you get out, you lotion your body so you’re all nice and soft and brush your teeth just in case things go a little further. You’re not expecting it to, but y’know, nothing wrong with having fun if it comes to it. 

After all, he’s doing you a favor by going down on you, the least you can do is smell good, be soft, and totally prepared for if he were to suggest more, right? Right. Anyway, you’re all showered up and opt to just let your hair do its own thing as you throw on your shirt and shorts. You ignore the panties at this point, because why not?

When you get back to the living room, Jake isn’t there. Naturally, you check your bedroom and there he is, still his normal self and lounging against your headboard while flipping through videos on his phone. 

“And she’s back,” he comments, reaching a hand out as if to invite you to your own bed. “Change your mind yet?”

“Not even for a second,” you smile as you take a spot in front of him, your entire body facing him as you pull your knees up and lay your chin against your arms. “Have you?”

He seems to fall into a more serious tone now, locking his phone before tossing it to the side and flicking his eyes up to look at you, scanning your legs in the shorts. 

“No,” he chokes back, shocked to see straight between the gap of your shorts and actually lay eyes on the point of this whole situation for the first time. “And you’re not wearing anything under those shorts.”

You watch his face and the way it turns from your best friend into something you’ve seen time and time again from men you’ve gone home with. It’s sexy on him though, for some reason.

“Figured I’d save you the trouble?”

He smiles, now moving himself toward you and reaching a hand behind to cradle your head. 

“Lay back,” he says softly, in a voice you’ve only heard a few times from him, “you could have left the shorts off too though.” He adds with an even softer laugh.

For some reason, it makes you feel shy. His hand guiding you to lay back all while grabbing the pillow from behind him and placing it under your head so that you’re nice and comfortable.  You watch him look at you and honestly, it’s in a way you can’t remember him ever looking at you before. If this is how he looks at other women, you may be a little jealous. 

It feels more intense right now than you thought it would.

“You’re being weird.” You say offhandedly, looking away from him and trying to keep the heat from flushing to your cheeks. 

“You’re letting me eat you out, how am I being weird?” He leans up from you, putting two hands on your knees but still waiting for your eyes to meet his again. “You want me to act like the other dudes? Dip my tongue in then wrap it up?”

You groan, rolling your eyes back to him and analyzing the way his big hands drape over your knees. 

“Okay, fair.” You admit defeat, feeling his warm palms move down the back of your thighs and to your ass. 

“Lift up,” He says, quickly pulling the shorts off of you when you do as he asks. 

“Oh–” He gasps quietly. “Damn.”

He stares directly between your legs, bracing his hands back at your knees and spreading your legs a bit. He angles his head in different ways to really look at you, seemingly enamored with your pussy as a whole. 

“Look who’s staring now.” You chuckle, instinctively hiding your face from him despite knowing he isn’t looking up at you.

“Yeah– I am,” he admits, now adjusting himself on the bed to lay down, his head easily slotting between your legs as he rests his chin on your lower belly and looks up at you. “You can pull my hair or do whatever, I’m just gonna…like, start I guess. Tell me if it’s something you don’t like.”

As normal as this isn’t, he’s speaking similar to how the two of you had taken on projects before. He typically takes the lead but offers you control more often than not. All you can do is nod at him, trying to comprehend that it’s your best friend’s head between your legs right now.

When he pulls his head back up with one last nod of confirmation, the first thing you feel is his fingers slipping up your folds, the other braced on your thigh and holding your legs open. You release a short sigh of relief at the feeling and he instantly smirks at it. 

“I haven’t even started yet,” He whispers, glancing up at you before fixing his eyes back on the expanse of your pussy. He uses his ring and pointer finger to spread your lips open, and the middle finger to rub against your hole only for a brief moment before he licks his lips and releases his own sigh of relief. “God, Sunghoon would be so jealous right now.”

You look down at him, wanting to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about and why he’d bring up Sunghoon right now, but you find yourself staring at him instead. Breath caught in your throat with the way his eyes meet yours before letting his tongue hang from his mouth as if presenting it to you in a cheeky way.

He’s so fast with it too, with the way he replaces his middle finger with his tensed tongue, forcing you to swallow your words and hold your breath even more. You can feel him lick and nibble against each of your lips before moving inward, flattening his tongue to lick one long, languid, and wet stripe up until meeting your clit. 

He wraps his lips around it, sucking once, hard, before releasing it and pulling back to look at you.

“This okay?”

Goddamn him for making you have to talk right now. You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that he said Sunghoon, fucking Sunghoon of all people would be jealous that he’s doing this right now. That’s definitely a question for later, because yeah, it’s fucking okay. 

More than okay. 

You nod to him, throwing your arm over your eyes and instinctively bucking your hips up towards his hovering mouth. 

“Oh, that was hot,” He groans out his compliment, watching the way you hide your face before he pulls his eyes back down and uses his fingers to spread your pussy open wider, enough to see your hole pulsate when he dips down to blow against it, “I can see how wet you’re getting, Is it because of me or is it just because someone is playing with your pussy?”

You half groan half moan at that, mostly because hearing these words from him is something that feels entirely too sexual. As if he hasn’t already tasted you, as if you’re not spread out by his fingers right now. You ignore his words, yet, your brain holds onto them with white knuckles and your hips buck toward him again.

“Not a talker, got it.” He notes, watching your hips chase his breath. 

He watches for much longer than you’d like for him to, and you’re about to lift up and accuse him of being just like the other guys but he shuts your thoughts off so fucking fast when you feel his lips on you again. 

His tongue explores every part of you, licking and sucking against areas you didn’t even know would feel good until his mouth lands against your clit again. This time, you can’t help it, you grind up and he hums at it as he braces your legs open just enough to skew his head and move his tongue back down. 

He’s slurping. Lost in the moment as he does it. Tasting you in full and getting a warm, pleasant feeling each time your legs try to close and your hips buck up for more. He…can’t believe this is finally happening. Fucking finally.

Unsure if you’d let him, he tries anyway. He stiffens his tongue, circling your hole before pressing just a bit, giving you just enough pressure that you feel frustrated. So frustrated that you’re the one who ends up finishing his attempt at something new. You reach down and lace your fingers in his hair, and let out a soft, needy little moan for him. 

That sound forces one from his chest too, he can’t help it, really. With the way you’re grabbing his hair and holding his head in place, pressing yourself against his mouth so much harder than before. Ah, he really, really loves doing this for you. 

To think any man would already be done? To think anyone could like, not wanna eat you out? Insanity. Stupid, stupid fucking men.

He can taste how wet you are now, truly taste it as he stretches your hole as much as he can with his tongue and another groan of his own. It’s probably embarrassing, truly, but he doesn’t care. 

Both of you are moaning at this point as you hold his head in place and grind your hips harder than you think you are. He loves it, you love it. So much that you really are barely comprehending that your best friend could do this the whole time?! And never told you until now?!

Jake is just as drunk on the moment as you are though. Totally lost in the scent and taste of you as he continues to lap away, constantly trying to prove that you can and will get off from his mouth alone. And honestly? It’s at the point that he figures he can use his fingers now too considering you let him spread you open with his tongue. What’s a little more gonna hurt, anyway?

The taste of you alone has him in heaven, cursing any man who didn’t take advantage of your pussy against their mouth. He can easily slip a finger into a hole this wet and needy, gasping in awe before glancing up at you. 

God, the way you immediately ride his finger, no huff or sound of irritation that he’s pulled his tongue back now. Your face. Fuck. 

He watches as you shamelessly chase the small amount of pleasure he can offer in terms of just head and fingering. He can imagine how hot you’d be without that shirt on, with your legs around his hips, with your mouth wrapped around him. You look blissed out, soaking his finger and keeping your hand in his hair, mindlessly grabbing and scratching at him. 

Making quick work, he goes back for your clit, circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves and noticing how you ride his finger harder. He can’t help but smirk against you when you do it either. 

The movement of your hips constantly humping against him is enough, and he can’t help but groan at the sound of your slick squelching out of you and warming his chin, he can’t fucking help but grind his own hips forward when you act like this. His cock is so painfully hard for you right now, at the taste of you, that all he can do is chase the mattress beneath him. Tensing his muscles and moaning against your clit shamelessly at the jolts of pleasure he gets from it. 

He slips another finger in with ease, feeling how much wetter you’ve gotten in the way the slide is filthy and audible. You groan out at that too, feeling his tongue flick relentlessly against your clit and only now moving your free hand from your face and trailing to your stomach. 

You can’t even talk, so you don’t. You lift your shirt up until you can at least rub against your nipples, just to heighten the pleasure your best friend is so graciously giving you.

His eyes roll back when you do that, only to fall back on you and get a frustrated grunt from him. He’s a bit annoyed that the shirt is still covering you despite your hand under it, fondling yourself. He’s thinking with his cock, so fucking aroused that he doesn’t think twice when he aggressively lifts your shirt up to your chin and watches the way your fingers poke and prod at yourself.

He inhales a sharp breath at the image, and his hips fuck harder against the mattress at that. His fingers speed up and now he’s focused. You feel him all over you from the waist down, his tongue flicking and lips sucking against your swollen clit, his fingers relentlessly fucking into you, your fingers heightening those sensations by playing with your own tits– then, oh, then you notice. 

Jake, you’re best fucking friend, is so goddamn horny that he’s dry humping against your bed and whining out moans against your clit. Probably to avoid asking for more, to avoid making you feel obligated to get him off too, to avoid anything you may not want or consent to. And that’s why he’s your best friend.

It doesn’t take long after that, your hips come to a stop as you watch him get himself off all while getting you off, and you find your orgasm bubbling up much faster than if you’d have imagined solely because of the image in front of you.

“Jake, you’re fucking whining.” You groan almost as needy as he does, rolling your hips up in a stutter. 

He was almost gonna stop, because yeah, he is whining. Gasping for air but only tasting you, only swallowing up the moans you give to him, only inhaling the dull scent of the fruity soap you used when you showered. But, you moan louder after you say that. You like it. You like seeing him act so desperate. So he continues, shamefully reaching one of his hands between himself and the bed and quickly shoving it down his pants, circling around his cock and continuing to fuck into it. 

If he thinks hard enough, you’re what he’s fucking right now, and technically, he is. With his fingers and mouth at least. When your hips stutter more, he fucks harder against his hand and holds his fingers inside of you as deep as he can get them. There, he sucks against your clit until you’re the one whining louder. 

You’re shocked at how quickly you’re getting off. Releasing a splash against him in a breathy, choked up sob. Nearly squeezing his head between your thighs to the point he almost misses the way you breathe out strings of praises toward him. But he hears them. 

He definitely heard you say that he looks sexy with your hand in his hair, and god, did he ride off of the fact that you encouraged him to get off with you. Regardless of if you knew if he could or not, regardless of if you knew his hand was providing just enough pleasure for him to do just that. 

There, as your orgasm subsides with his tongue still flicking your sensitive clit, you watch him writhe his hips against your mattress, his eyes slammed shut, and his breath coming out in pornographic moans. So this is what Jake looks like when he cums. It’s desperate, but somehow, it feels passionate too.

You’re all dazed after the fact, pussy pulsing and tingling from the loss of his lips and fingers once he pulls back and lays against your bed with a lazy smile. His pants are uncomfortable, but he doesn’t mind as he wipes his hand across his shirt and watches the way you catch your breath. 

“So,” He tries to say, clearing his throat. “I– um– hope that’s what you needed?”

You’re shy. You’re never fucking shy, especially towards Jake, but god. 

“Um, yeah,” you sigh out, lifting from the bed and looking back at him. Part of you wondering if that’s what it’s supposed to be like when someone gives you good head, or if that’s just…what it’s like when Jake gives head.

For some reason, you genuinely don’t think another man would ever eat you out to that level again. There’s no way, based on experience. 

“It was definitely what I needed.” 

He nods in a shy way, reminding himself that his pants are fucking nasty right now. So, he goes to stand up and extends a hand out to you. 

“Let’s go clean up.” 

You shake your head, not at all wanting to move from this bed. He nods again, pulling your shirt back down for you and leaning to look at you. 

“I’m gonna bring you something to clean up with, and I’m gonna shower.”

You smile at him, a bit dazed as you make yourself comfortable on your messy sheets as you think hard about the fact that this dopey motherfucker really never told you how good he was at this? Rude.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake looks all proud of himself when he comes back to your room and cuddles into bed with you much like he always has. 

“I didn’t expect to sleep over, I have work in the morning.” He whispers in a rasp against your back, curling around you like the perfect big spoon. 

You’re quick to turn on his work alarm on your phone, like you always do when he crashes during weeknights. Because, what best friend doesn’t have alarms set for each other anyway?

After a few more long moments of silence, you try to talk. Mostly because your brain is swimming with the fact that, like, you’re not sure but it’s just– wow. 

“Hey, um–”

“Hmm?” He hums out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” His sudden louder voice causes you to jump, but you relax back into his gasp. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” He responds with mock-confidence, shifting a bit and hugging you closer to him, as if to hide the way he’s trying to make this sound like a joke. For his own comfort, really.

You smile.

“And don’t tell other dudes my secrets.” He adds.

“I won't.”

Jake has his own smile from behind you, wondering if he really is just that good at eating pussy. The truth is, he’s done it a handful of times but he was just really really interested in doing it for you. For…reasons.

・・・・・・THIS WAS ORIGINALLY TWO PARTS, NOW IT’S ONE. YOU’RE WELCOME・・・・・・

“Hey, um,”

“Hmm?” Jake hummed out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that for me?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” He responded in a sudden, louder voice. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” 

You remember the conversation that happened after he went down on you like it was yesterday, and he’s a goddamn liar. Nothing changed in your friendship with him, and he certainly doesn’t ask to eat you out all the time either. If anything, you’ve felt disappointed time and time again with the aftermath of that night.

It’s weighing on you in a strange way. At first, the weeks following the first and apparently, only time Jake went down on you, you almost expected him to ask for a repeat. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted him to ask but he never did. Even when he came over to hang out, even when you tried to lay down hints.

Nothing changed.

In fact, he doesn’t even talk about it. He doesn’t look at you as if he’s tasted you, and he doesn’t act like he came in his palm against your bed, right in front of you. He’s just…Jake. Sweet, caring, aloof, Jake. And you’re just you. Except you want to be someone else at this point. Someone that he does feel differently around after that.

Maybe you weren’t a memorable event for him when it comes to intimacy. Maybe he prefers to pretend it never happened? Maybe he was really just doing you a favor and intending for it to never go past the initial act. Even with his sweet words after the fact. Maybe, that was just to reassure you so it wouldn’t be awkward. 

You’re a version of you who wants to know what the fuck he’s thinking about. Did it taste bad? Did he get cold feet about it all? Arguably, if things did get weird after what happened, you’d feel more comfortable than you do with the situation as it stands. 

It is weird now, but only because it’s not weird for him. 

Even now, as you lay across the same bed where he had his head nestled between your legs, you can almost feel the tingle of what it felt like. The way his hair tickled your thighs, and the way his fingers laid against the flesh of your legs. The sun is beaming in through your windows and it still doesn’t feel as warm as it did when he cuddled against you that night. It’s been weeks and your heart is sick for him by this point. Sick with confusion, angst, lust, maybe even love if you think hard enough. 

You miss him a lot more than before as you throw your hand up to your face in a gentle slap as if to knock yourself out of it. This is insane. Every day you wake up feeling this way, thinking of him, and where you stand with him. It wasn’t like this at first, you truly expected him to come back for more and now you’re just sitting here with a loop of reasons as to why he never did. 

Insane. You’ve gotten head from so many people and didn’t think twice about them the next day, Jake is different though. You knew he would be too.

Why is Jake any different? Why do you miss him so badly right now? Why couldn’t he pick up on it either? Even worse, why do you feel like doing that with him was a mistake?

He’s with his parents for the weekend, and you’re here still thinking about shit that should have been released with your orgasm. 

You haven’t gone on any dates since that day, you haven’t met up with any one other than him to hang out, and at this point you’re starting to feel a little pathetic for falling in so deep. It’s entirely one sided, he makes that very clear.

So, naturally, you hop up with the confidence of a damn lion and decide that today, it ends. You will stop making it weird between the two of you, if he has even noticed anyway. You’re gonna get dressed, look hot as fuck, and sit on your couch swiping left and right until you find a hot piece of man that’s willing to take you out tonight.

That’s when something dawns on you. You remember Jake briefly mentioning Sunghoon to you, which seemed more like an implication if anything at the time. 

Why would Sunghoon be jealous of what happened? You can admit to being attracted to him but it’s not like the two of you hang out often or anything, and it’s also kind of a rule for yourself that you don’t fuck within the friendgroup. Jake was an exception, solely because that’s your best friend. Or, well, was your best friend. 

Now though? Who cares about these little rules you create for yourself? You need a confidence boost. You need your mind to be taken off of this little spiral you keep falling into. Most of all, you need to be proven wrong that you can still get off without it being him. 

So, texting Sunghoon? Easy. 

Thankfully, Sunghoon texting you back at lightning speed seemed even easier for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well, Sunghoon sure did a great job at getting your mind off of Jake for the past couple of hours. 

You lay here in his bed, feeling your body tingle from the sensation of just how well he lived up to the promise of a good time. For hours he touched you, licked against you, fucked you. And yeah, you did fucking enjoy it. 

But why now? Why did you only just decide to give Sunghoon a shot? Why are you lying in his bed, with his heavy arms thrown across you as he snores gently behind you, feeling the need to cry? Why do you wish it was Jake, your best friend who seemed so eager to please and then suddenly leaped ten feet back as if he never suggested it in the first place? 

Your brain is confused despite your body relaxing itself from the state of bliss you were able to experience. You really did enjoy this time with Sunghoon and think that maybe, if you continue to make late night visits to him, the need for your best friend will weaken in time. 

God, if only Jake would just talk about it.

And you fall asleep thinking about that. About how you’ve let your feelings weaken you to the point that it’s genuinely hard to enjoy being pleasured by someone who actually has the capability. 

And, well, you wake up much the same, except Sunghoon was quite quick with his fingers upon waking up himself. Showing you that even if the person you want doesn’t have a thing to do with you, he sure does. 

“Good morning,” He rasps in a sleepy voice, fingers already traveling down your stomach as he hugs up against you from behind. “Glad you finally came through for me.” 

You quirk a brow. Right, Jake is the whole reason you're here. If not for mentioning him, at least.

“I finally came through?” You chuckle, your body jolting at the ticklish sensation of his lips brushing the back of your neck. “You knew I was single, why didn’t you call me?” 

You feel a harsher kiss against your neck, and his fingers only travel further down now. 

“Bro code.” He whispers, dipping his fingers between your still naked thighs. “I’m not overstepping if you’re the one asking for it.” He slides his fingers gently back and forth between your legs, trying to work you up. “And you did.” 

You think hard about that. Bro code, overstepping limits, not coming onto someone unless they do first solely because someone must have asked him not to. And you’d think even harder about who that someone might be, but instead your brain is quickly thrown into the morning sex routine Sunghoon must offer to all of his lovers. 

You enjoy it too, the small moments of bliss where you’re not in your head about what you could have possibly done wrong with Jake for you to end up feeling this way. It’s a brief moment of numbness though, feeling his fingers pleasure you gently can only do so much to quiet your thoughts. 

“Are you saying one of your friends had dibs on me or something?” You laugh in a half-joke, arching your back to rub your ass up and against the bigger and warmer man behind you. 

“You could say that, I’m assuming he missed his chance though–” Sunghoon whispers snidely, now satisfied with how you already drip for him and sliding one of his fingers into you. His other hand, being used to hike one of your legs up and against his hip to open you up for him. “You wouldn’t be here doing this if he didn’t.” 

You clench around his finger unintentionally, pretending you don’t know who you’re both referring to. Mostly because there’s no way in hell it’s your best friend, seeing as how he’s acting like you don’t exist outside of platonic friendship with him. Then again, who else could it be? Jay? Heeseung? Fucking Jungwon? As fucking if. 

“I guess he did miss his chance–” You breathe, now allowing yourself to give into the lazy and slow pleasure being offered. “Deeper.” 

And he listens. Sunghoon goes deeper and deeper with one finger, then two, then three, up until you slip his fingers out of you and plead through your body to have more. Deeper still, holding you from behind, plunging in as if to intentionally fuck the confusion out of you. As if to, maybe, prove that Jake isn’t the only man who can please you now. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When you eventually find yourself walking through your front door, you do feel better. Sunghoon did have some type of capability to make you feel as desired as Jake did. After all, it’s not often that you sleep over with a man, better yet get fucked again as soon as you wake up with him. 

Even so, you know Jake will be back tomorrow, wanting to hang out yet again as if nothing happened. Thankfully, with Sunghoon around, maybe you can pretend alongside him. Maybe even forget it ever happened. 

You can argue that for the first time, you’re even a bit annoyed when you see his name pop up in your notifications with a call as if you’re not right in the middle of texting Sunghoon. It’s not that you were trying to go back over to his house or anything, but man, he sure is trying to get you to come back for a third round already. 

Maybe you just like when people are eager to please you, or maybe you don’t like to feel as if you’re the one chasing another person. Still, you answer Jake, seemingly releasing all of this resentment you’ve built up for him in an instant. 

“What?” You huff into the phone, feeling it vibrate with another text from Sunghoon and wanting nothing more than to see what his fourth reason would be for you to come over not even two hours after you left. 

“What?” Jake responds in confusion  to you. “What do you mean ‘what’?” 

“I mean what do you want? I’m busy.” You huff again with a roll of your eyes, flopping back on your bed. 

“Oh god, something happened.” Jake groans, though he was simply calling you because he missed your voice. “What’s wrong?” 

“No, not really. Was just trying to figure out what I’m doing tonight when you rudely interrupted me.” 

Something is off, Jake can feel it. Your voice has a bite to it, one that feels like you’re mad at him. Not to mention, he knows what you mean when you say you’re trying to find something to do for the night. He tries to reserve his feelings though, despite wanting that something to be him. 

“Oh, I know there’s an event at one of the clubs downtown tonight I think. Jay mentioned it–” He pauses briefly to hear another annoyed breath from you. “You’re not gonna go with him?” 

“Nah,” You wave off dismissively. “I think I’m just gonna go hang out with Sunghoon.” 

You don’t notice at all the brief and panicked silence for a solid second and a half before Jake reacts.

“Wait, what?” He says quickly after managing to process those words, trying not to sound as panicked as he knows he feels. “Sunghoon? Why?!” 

God, he knew he shouldn’t have said anything about Sunghoon that day, but his confidence was overflowing and he couldn’t help but boast at the time. It’s come back to shoot him in the dick, knowing full well that Sunghoon has been trying to get you into bed since he fucking met you. Hearing you ask for him in this context is something that makes his blood run cold. 

“Relax, I was with him last night. It’s kind of like, maybe gonna be a normal thing now.” 

You refuse to pick up on Jake’s tone. He had all the time in the world to make you feel something other than confusion, and this is just fucking petty at this point. He clearly doesn’t want to have anything with you, so why in the hell should you just sit around hoping? Waiting? 

“Sunghoon? You want to fuck Sunghoon?” He asks in a lower tone, trying to convince himself that he has to be mishearing you. You can hear him shuffle around and close a door behind him, showing that he doesn’t want his parents to hear him. But the frustration showing blatantly in his voice is somehow…satisfying. 

“I already did. I figured he would show me a good time since no one else can, and he did.” You shrug with slight disobedience. Resentment bubbling up in your gut to the extent that you almost want to grill him for having any type of opinion about it. 

Jake hangs on those words for a second. “Since no one else can.” 

He really thought he was the one who could do it for you. 

“Yeah, but–”  Jake starts, feeling like a child almost in the way he protests despite not being in a position to have a say in who you sleep with. “You know what? Nevermind. Do what you want.” He adds blankly, hanging up before you can get another word in. 

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong because you acted like he was fully capable of doing everything right. Hanging out with him consistently after the fact, not making it weird, flirting with him, asking him to sleep over. 

He wasn’t sure if he should ask you for more or if he should ask you to be his girlfriend first. The whole reason he’s with his parents right now is because he felt the need to run home to his Mom for girl advice. Embarrassing? Yes, but he really wanted to do things right. He cares about you. 

He needed just one single weekend away, and the second he’s gone you’re out fucking other dudes? Fucking Sunghoon? 

By now, that asshole is probably feeling like he’s on top of the world for getting to touch you. Not even he has done what Sunghoon managed to do with you by now and he can’t help but feel pissed about it. 

Whether you’re his or not, Sunghoon never should have been a fucking option. 

So, he calls you right back, pushing back the feeling of how pathetic it seems considering he’s the one who hung up on you. Then, when you don’t pick up, he immediately feels his stomach drop. 

You must be talking to Sunghoon, you must be setting up a time and place to meet with him. And Jake has heard that Sunghoon knows how to fuck. Other people have said he’s good in bed. Surely, if you’ve already been with him once and you’re still wanting to go back to him, those other people weren’t lying. 

To Jake, it feels like he’s losing you to his own friend with each passing second, and it’s weighing so heavy that spamming your phone with calls to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing right now feels like the right thing to do. In fact, it feels like it is the best thing in the world to do. 

He calls again. You don’t answer.

Again.

“What?!” You answer, annoyed. 

“Why would you even want Sunghoon?! Is he really that much better than I am?” He doesn’t think before he says it, because if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to say it at all. 

It’s his turn to experience that awkward silence because in all fairness, you don’t know how to respond to that. You feel annoyed now, you feel confused and quite frankly, blind sided. Since when did he care? 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You came onto me once and then never followed up.” You dead-pan at yourself in the mirror across your bedroom, speaking into the phone with a voice that seems scolding. “I don’t see why you’re mad that I’m hanging out with Sunghoon. We aren’t dating, Jake.”

“Since when? Who said I didn’t want to do it again?” Jake argues back in a whispered voice, showing you that he still can’t be as loud as he’d like to be. He chooses to ignore that last sentence though, pretending as if it doesn’t strike him in the center of the heart. 

“Nobody! That’s the thing, you haven’t said anything about it. Not that you want to, not that you don’t. You’re just being you and it’s driving me up a fucking wall.”

Pause.

“You’re mad because I didn’t make it weird?” It’s like his brain clicks. 

“Pretending it didn’t happen somehow makes it worse.” You lower your voice, ignoring the string of texts Sunghoon is sending you and listening closely to what Jake might say next. Your heart is racing through this hushed argument, and it feels good to admit that you kept thinking about it, even if he hasn’t.

“I wasn’t pretending that it didn’t happen,” He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I just wasn't sure what the next step was.”

You’re fucking appalled.

“Jake, I have been flirting with you since it happened because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’re the one who didn’t make any moves, so I figured you wanted it to end there.” You sigh loudly, but somehow feel a bit lighter. “Do you have any idea how that fucked with my confidence?”

Jake sighs along with you on the other end of the line. 

“That’s why I was annoyed earlier, and that’s why I’m going to Sunghoon’s tonight.”

“What?” Jake’s voice raises a bit higher. “Still?!” 

It’s the fact that he’s trying to explain himself. Had he known that you were confused by his lack of, um, touching you, he would have done it every day since it happened! Yet, you’re still considering Sunghoon an option? Knife to the heart, honestly. 

Or maybe he’s not being clear enough with you about this. 

You, on the other hand, nod your head as you hum a confirmation to him, smiling and wondering if this conversation will turn into an event that would, perhaps, have you cancel the hook-up with Sunghoon.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You pry.

“You really called him, and now I’m just sitting here in my old room trying to find a way to get to you before he does….again.” An inhale. “ Yes! I’m fucking jealous!” 

You remain silent, trying to pretend that your pettiness isn’t solely to confirm what he seems to be implying to you. Then, an unintentional chuckle leaves your lips. 

“Why are you laughing?!” His voice is raised again, and he doesn’t seem to stop spilling what he needs to say. “I wanted to do that for you for years and you somehow still didn’t know?” He pauses. “I always made it weird between us, what? You thought I treated all of my friends like that?”

You just listen, feeling your heart beat in time with each word he speaks. Strings of sentences like, “I’m going to kick his ass.” and “You thought I’d just eat you out as a friend?! You’re insane.” and “I would have come home last night if you wanted to feel good so badly, why did you have to go see him, of all people?” 

The confirmation of Jake being the friend who forbade Sunghoon from making a move on you is right there, clear as day. 

“Ah, so the Jake I know isn’t the Jake everyone else knows?” You respond, trying to force the tingling feeling in your gut to calm itself. Hearing him be so blatant to you has your heart doing flips, and it’s not an easy task to make it stop.

“Of-fucking-course not!” He rolls his eyes, you can definitely tell. “You had me wrapped around your pinky from day one.”

“And you really thought that, with the way you seemed so uninterested–” You pause, processing his words. “I would have asked you to come home from your parent’s house to get me off? For what? Funsies? You thought I'd be brave enough or selfish enough to ask such a thing?” 

Jake sighs deeply, seemingly fed up with the situation. 

“It wouldn’t be because you are selfish.” He breathes out, almost angrily. “And for the last time, I’m not uninterested. I was just trying to do things right. I don’t just want to fuck you, you know.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell me until weeks after you ate me out?” You smile harder, trying to contain the heat flushing over your cheeks. “Until after I thought I had a pH imbalance and maybe you were just grossed out by me?!” 

“I’m genuinely shocked you didn’t know already. Made me think you weren’t interested enough to like–” He pauses, not wanting to be too telling. “I guess waiting and being polite isn’t really your style. I should have known that though.”

You let him continue, because you can tell he’s simply taking breaths and small pauses to figure out how to express his thoughts to you. 

“You can’t tell me that over the years, you never once noticed how often I stared at you.” He lowers his voice again, softening it to an extent that you actually feel the butterflies fly from your belly to your chest. 

”The fact that I jumped in head first and offered to do that for you? I didn’t think I had to tell you at this point…”He breathes out a chuckle through the line this time. “And for the record, I couldn’t get enough of it. I was just trying to like– I don’t know.”

You listen to him breathe deeply, again. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was in it just for the sex, I guess.”

There. There it is. You’re nearly kicking your feet, feeling him confirm feelings and erase any hint of doubt within you. Despite never truly noticing that he treats you differently compared to his other friends, despite never thinking too hard about the way he looks at you. 

“You acted like it wasn’t a big deal, Jake. I’m not joking. If that’s how you act when you like someone, you shouldn’t blame me for not noticing.”

“I literally tongue fucked you.” He dead-pans. “Friends don’t just do that.”

“I thought we were friends who could do that.” You argue. “But I guess you’re not quite looking to just remain friends, are you?” 

“No,” Jake sighs. “Mom told me I needed to take you out on some extravagant date and express my undying love for you with a handful of red roses, but I guess this is just how it’s gonna be. After all, this is you.” 

“And this is you.” You confirm. 

“I was going to come home tomorrow and try to lie our way to the restaurant, which I still can, if you want. You kind of fucked up my plan though.” 

You pause at his words, suddenly feeling like shit for not realizing sooner. In your defense though, if he really did like you from day one, you didn’t exactly have a chance to see how he would have acted without feelings. The Jake you know is your best friend, and someone you trusted with everything, you thought he treated everyone as well as he treated you. That’s why, when he didn’t change, you couldn’t read him anymore. 

Then again, all of this could have been fucking avoided if he had just voiced it to you. 

“Romance is dead and it’s your fault.” Jake tries to joke, his soft tone somehow coming out even softer as he waits for some type of response from you. 

“So, are we done fighting?” You ask meekly, tapping your finger against your phone and looking up at the ceiling with a smile that by now, you can’t escape. “Since you’ve just expressed your undying love for me and I very much wouldn’t mind going on a date with you so we can work this out face to face?” 

“Are you still going to fuck Sunghoon?” 

You laugh. 

“Oh yeah, for sure–” To his silence, you immediately take it back. “Oh my god, relax. It’s a joke.” 

“Get better jokes, asshole.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What the fuck?” Jake deadpans into the phone, his heart beating far too fast for his health, but vibing with it anyway because by tomorrow night, he’ll be next to you again. “You seriously had sex with her?!” 

“Hey, she’s the one who called me.” Sunghoon shrugs as he listens. “To be fair, Jake, I did tell her that someone else had dibs on her.”

Jake slaps his forehead and rolls his eyes. 

“You’re such a dick– I told you at least three hundred times that I like her! I don’t have dibs.” He gripes, trying to pretend that he’s not imagining Sunghoon with you, the person he wants the most. 

“Damn right you don’t, because she seemed to have a great t–” 

“Sunghoon, stop. I don’t want to know what happened, but like, stop texting her.” 

Sunghoon’s brow raises in curiosity. 

“Ah, did you finally make a move?”

If there’s anything Jake knows Sunghoon won’t do, it’s go for a woman that is actually unavailable. He has his fun, and he’s not one to turn anyone down if he has an interest in them, bro code be damned. And yeah, he’s still a little pissed at him for hooking up with you…but, it is true, Jake made you feel like he wasn’t even an option in his attempts to be a gentleman. 

Still, boundaries need to be set now. Real boundaries.

“I did, and I would really appreciate it if you back off. I’m trying to make something out of this, you know?”

Sunghoon lightens up, sighing at his loss of a would be fuck-buddy that seemed more promising than some he’s had in the past. 

“Jesus, you’re serious about her aren’t you?” He smirks as he speaks, feeling proud of Jake for finally stepping up for himself. “I mean, I can totally see why. Please excuse me as I mourn that sweet, sweet, pu-” 

“Sunghoon.” Jake warns. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“Relax, jesus.” Sunghoon plays it cool, though he actually is mourning it a little bit. “Good on you though. I’ll back off, don’t worry.” 

Jake rolls his eyes yet again, his love-hate relationship with Sunghoon becoming more fond than ever by this point. Only because the confidence he had in himself before all of this wasn’t entirely where it needed to be. It’s true that he wasn’t exactly a pussy eating god before, nor could he even say he’s amazing at sex but, when it comes to you, he can’t help but be excited. He wants to do it all, be it all for you. 

Never in his life has he eaten pussy like that, and never in your life have you felt a mouth so eager to please between your legs. 

Sunghoon could have been something, but he couldn’t have been Jake, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The day couldn’t go by any slower than it already has. 

Jake comes home tonight, and by home, you mean to your apartment where he doesn’t live. 

Your mind goes in loops on what could possibly happen. Scenarios of him getting cold feet and ignoring that any of this happened at all again. Scenes of him unlocking your door, closing in on you, and kissing you before you can even say “hello”. Images of his hands on you, his mouth on you, what it would feel like if he were to…well, oh.

You snap yourself out of it, every bad scenario in your head gets replaced with one where you’ve got Jake working himself on and inside of you. It’s making you feel hot, insane, and entirely too horny for the proposed date night full of talking that needs to be had first. 

Then you freeze, your hand on the handle of your mug as you wonder a bit too hard. 

What if he doesn’t show up at all? 

You did run off the second he left the city and fuck one of your mutual friends. Arguably, you were equally as bad at communicating with him as he was to you during the past few weeks. Sure, you flirted, but was that even enough when he literally put his tongue inside of you “as a friend”? 

God, he’d have every right to not show up. To move on, to never speak to you again. 

You’ve been so stupid. Both of you have, stumbling together but apart into something neither of you could even begin to navigate. For you? Sex is easy. Feelings though? That’s where it gets complicated. Yet, still, you find yourself more willing than ever to let these feelings roam free if he accepts them at face value. 

Solely because of how shitty it felt when you were trying to pretend that Jake was nothing but a one time thing for his sake. 

And when the time comes, after hours of brooding, getting worked up, and feeling insane, you’re looking like a mess when he knocks on your door. So much for looking good for him. You’re an absolute fucking wreck when you open that door and dead-pan stare at him and his bags. 

“Hi,” He smiles, not quite making eye contact because he really is kind of embarrassed by all of this. “I’m here.” 

You step back from the door, eyes remaining on him. 

“You’re here.” You say quietly, watching him step into your apartment and drop his bags. 

You feel his breath before you hear his voice. So much closer than just moments before, right up against your ear, and his arms wrapping tightly around you. 

“Felt like I was gone for too long–” He whines slightly against you, breathing in a breath and taking in your scent. “Didn’t know I could miss you like that.” 

You fucking melt. Out of all of those scenarios and fantasies in your head, this wasn’t one of them. Which goes to show that Jake is the one person in this world who can surprise you time and time again. You’ve hugged him like this hundreds of times, but this one, oh this one. He feels so close after feeling so fucking far away.

“You were gone for two days,” You smile, nuzzling against him and gripping his waist in your own hug. 

“Two days too long, though.” You feel him smile, that little upturn of his lips pushing his cheek up and against you as he chuckles and pulls back.  “We don’t have a lot of time, but we can still make it to the restaurant if you still want to go? I can shower when we get back.”

You pull back, offering him a small nod and feeling a bit let down. You wanted more, especially after that hug. The fact that he can contain himself right now feels isolating. Are you the only one who has a vibrating brain right now? He really wants to have the conversation at the restaurant? 

He really wants to do this the right way?

You look like shit, but arguably he might think he looks worse considering the long trip back to you. Still, the restaurant is the chosen option to have this conversation, and you’re ready to get it over with so that finally the two of you can take a step forward. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The restaurant is nice. There’s a buzz of conversations surrounding the two of you but most of it feels muffled because the only sound you can truly hear is Jake’s hushed and awkward attempts to get the ball rolling. 

“So, I guess that’s why I went to my parent’s house. It’s embarrassing, I know–” He says before you cut him off. 

“Tell me how you felt the past few weeks when we were together.” You say boldly, wanting so badly to have the confirmation that he really does want this, and that he suffered much like you did.

You watch a fan of rosy tint cross his cheeks as he breaks eye contact with you, looking to the table and then back up at you. 

“Okay, um–” He stiffens a bit, glancing around to make sure no one is looking or listening in. “When we weren’t together, it was a lot easier for me to think, but when we were together, I could only really think about one thing.” He admits, nodding to himself. 

You look at him curiously before you see his eyes light up in panic.

“No! No, no. Not like, sex…” He looks down. “I mean, yeah maybe sex too but mostly I just couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make you want me more than anyone else.” 

Your heart swells at his panicked save, and then the words that follow. 

“I think I already did want you more than anyone else.” You admit back to him. “Even if I didn’t know I had feelings until you did that to me– I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

He smiles, reaching over the table as if to ask for your hand. 

“What about you? What did you think about when we were together after that night?” He asks for his own confirmation now. 

“Sex. Mostly, I guess. I felt like no one else would ever be able to make me feel that good again.” You look away, feeling ashamed and seen. “Goddamn, I sound so dramatic.”

Jake snorts, laughing at how he should have expected this but the confidence boost is a happy surprise to him. 

“To be fair though, Jake, I think I had my feelings and my lust for you mixed up.” You continue. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still feel both of those things every time I see you, or even think of you.”

“Feelings and lust?” He nods with a smile and wiggling his eyebrows, his eyes glistening in the warm lighting of the restaurant. 

You nod in confirmation, side eyeing the waitress who walks over to take down your order. 

Both of you are somehow dissociated outside of each other, there’s no way you’re not because you don’t recall what you ordered, nor what he ordered, and he appears to be feeling much the same. The moment she walks away, he’s continuing. 

“I was really that good, huh?” A smirk from him, and a nod from you. 

“What about right now then? How do you feel when you look at me?” He follows up, looking down at the table. 

“Both of those things.” You dead-pan, squeezing your legs together as you look at him and feel the warmth radiating from even this far away. The confirmation of feelings is enough by itself to have your thoughts in the gutter about him, especially after weeks of wanting him. 

Especially after having to be in this stupid fucking restaurant in the first place.

He quirks a brow before lowering his voice, his eyes drooping a bit. 

“Do you have any fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you?” 

God, there he is. That same bold best friend who originally suggested eating you out in the first place. Not entirely unfounded that he said it, but fuck, your cheeks are searing. 

“Jake, we’re in public.” You warn, knowing damn well that you’ve not been able to think of anything else either, but for the sake of the foundation of this relationship, you want to tame yourself a little bit.

“Since we started hanging out, every fucking time.” He continues, ignoring your warning. “I would get so mad when you’d go to your little hook-ups. Sometimes I even wondered if you did it intentionally to piss me off.” 

Your cheeks are still hot, but now there’s a bit of guilt filling you. 

“You really had no idea how badly I wanted that to be me?” He continues with his streak of confidence, unintentionally dirty talking to you solely because he, genuinely, cannot deny his attraction or his feelings for you by this point. “Even right now, I want nothing more than to have you to myself.”

You pause, the guilt leaving you in an instant as it’s fully replaced with Jake’s eagerness to have you in full, finally. 

“Why–” You sigh, dropping your head into your hands to hide your face from him. “Why are we at this restaurant again?” 

You feel his hand reach back over to you, removing your hands from your face and dipping down to look at you. 

“It’s so fucking hard to contain myself right now. I can admit that.” He whispers, blinking at you. “If you feel satisfied with where we stand, I’d be more than happy to leave this table now and prove everything to you.”

An instant nod from you, and an instant confirmation from Jake. 

You’re both out of the restaurant before a single sip of water, before a single visual inspection of the forgotten food the two of you ordered, and before any doubt could creep in to ruin the electrifying atmosphere you were indulging in with him. 

For Jake, his self control wavers with each passing moment as you sit next to him in the car. You look so calm as he drives as quickly and safely as possible back to your apartment, shaming himself for ever considering the two of you go in the first place. Still, the outcome is somehow more satisfying. Both of you wanting to leave just so you can truly be alone together? He couldn’t ask for a better night. 

Still, your calmness contrasts the way his insides vibrate the closer he gets to your place, and he wonders how the fuck you manage to do it. If you were to simply glance at him at the right moment, you’d see his entire body melt in the fantasies of what the two of you may be willing to do tonight. 

Years worth of pining in his head and heart are bubbling up now. You’re inviting him in, you’re accepting him, you’re wanting him back. 

What he doesn’t know though, is that you are quite literally imagining yourself wrapped in chains to this seat. Why? Because if it weren’t for those astral chains, you’d be on top of him in an instant, reassuring him that if there’s anything in the world you’ve wanted within the past few weeks, it’s him. You’d be apologizing for never taking note of his feelings before, and kissing away all of the moments he wished he could have had with you before, replacing them with very real, firm, hot kisses. 

Thankfully though, you manage to tame the beast from within and somehow, so does he. Up until you get through your apartment door and the electrifying atmosphere sizzles away in an instant. 

You expected to have the confidence to, quite literally, jump on him as soon as your door closed. Instead, you find yourself standing in awe at the entryway. 

Jake, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to have you right this moment, speeding and parking crooked be damned, he will not allow it just yet. 

“Listen,” He reaches out to you, pulling you up and against his chest. “I need to shower before I let myself do anything.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief, noting that the awkwardness came from the fact that Jake’s energy is seeping out of him, lust and worry for possibly not being as clean as he’d like to be for this. 

It feels strange, actually. You can imagine you’ve had many hook-ups with men who wouldn’t even consider a shower before inviting you over. 

“Hurry up then, before I decide to call Sungh-” 

“Don’t you fucking dare make that joke right now,” Jake squeezes you tighter against you, hating himself for constantly bringing up reasons to wait. 

“If we are going to like,” He pauses, struggling to say it out of pure nervousness that you might change your mind. “You know, be exclusive, Sunghoon’s name is forbidden.”

You chuckle against him before shoving him back in a playful way. 

“Deal. Now, can you fucking hurry?” You roll your eyes playfully, internally a little thankful for the short moments you will have to prepare yourself for this. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Damn this shower for feeling so good. Jake could fall asleep under the warmth if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been half-hard this entire time and truly fighting with himself on how to approach this situation.

It’s kind of awkward, actually. Knowing exactly what the two of you are about to do but having to wait even for fifteen minutes makes it seem like you both have a scheduled hook up and nothing more. 

It’s not a hook up though. Jake is finally where he’s always wanted to be with you, in your shower priming his body to go absolutely fucking insane on you. Before, when he ate you out, he really was controlling himself. He wanted to do more with you so bad, and now? God…

He’s flushed as he finally makes his way out of the shower, length still stiffening and softening with each thought that passes. He can barely look at himself in the mirror without wanting to laugh at how embarrassing he truly is. 

You’d probably laugh too, and he’d love the sound of it. 

Then, he’s faced with a dilemma. 

You, on the other hand, find yourself lying quietly in your bedroom after doing your best to fix the mess of yourself for whatever Jake may offer. Waiting for him, and ultimately wondering what the fuck is taking him so long when you finally hear the bathroom door open.

Faintly, you can smell your shampoo and body wash that he used as you hear him make his way to the living room and not find you. 

Then, you hear him making his way to your room. He doesn’t open the door any further than it already was and instead, stands behind it quietly before muttering out. 

“Um,” He starts, putting his hand on your door and only peeking his head in. “I wasn’t sure if there was a point to putting my clothes on–” 

Fucking pause.

God, he must sound so stupid saying that, especially after looking into your room and seeing you lying against your bed changed into the exact same pajamas you put on the night he initially made a move on you through the guise of friendship. 

Well, now it’s not even a question and he was right to assume that all he needed to do was wrap a towel around his waist and come to you. 

You watch his eyes travel your body curiously, a smile forming on his face.

“If you’re wondering if I put panties on this time too,” You smile, reaching a hand out as if to invite him to open that door and come have at it. “I didn’t.”

That’s all it takes, really, to have him pushing the door open and not-so-calmly making his way to your bed. 

Seeing his naked and damp chest is one thing, but smelling your scent all over him is another, especially when the first thing he does is practically envelop you with his body and plant his lips straight on your own. 

The first real kiss. Despite his lips having been on you before, you melt into it and find yourself forgetting how differently he’s acting now compared to before. He was so confident, so cocky, and now he’s almost docile. Meek. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He leans back to whisper, adjusting his body so that he’s more comfortable and leaning down on one arm while the other holds your cheek. “Can’t believe you let me eat you out before ever letting me actually kiss you.”

Your face heats up at the comment, making you feel more scandalous than you ever truly tried to be. But he’s not wrong, and you regret making him feel like eating you out was the only way to get to your heart.

Strangely though, it was the way to your heart. Him doing that for you practically threw you into the deep end in search for more, from him, specifically. 

“Can’t believe you decided that you should just eat me out rather than admit your feelings for me.” You counter with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against him again and pretending you can’t feel the weight of his length under the loosely knotted towel on his waist. 

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” He says through the kisses, quickly losing the ability to speak when you lick against his bottom lip and, ultimately, take control of the act.

He wonders what your mouth could do to him. His entire body reacts to the way your tongue flicks and licks against his own, it takes everything in him to try and control himself from pushing too far too soon– until he realizes that there is no reason to control himself now. 

Never has making out gotten him this turned on, and it’s not a surprise because it’s you. 

He half moans, half chuckles into your kiss when he does it, pressing his hips down and against your thigh much like he did previously to the very mattress he’s got you lying against. 

“There’s so much I want to do,” He finally admits, pulling back from the kiss and hanging his head to feel how his cock reacts to the flesh of your thigh. “Please, let me do all of it.” 

You sigh, somehow feeling a pang of arousal radiate between your legs despite not yet being touched there. The weight of him on you is enough, and all you can do is nod and await the ways he intends to relieve himself with you.

Hours of head, he could give. Even more hours of burying his cock between those pretty lips and watching you return the favor for him. His confidence grows as your body moves under him, waiting, waiting, waiting for what he will do next. 

First, he plants another kiss to you, pressing his hips hard against your thigh with a breathy sigh before moving his lips down, against your neck. 

At the same time, his hands work their way up your loose shirt, cupping one breast in his palm and easily teasing your nipple with his fingers. He works his lips down the center of your clothed chest, down to your stomach, and then up again. His nose nudges your shirt up with each kiss, until his lips replace his fingers and he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You’ve never felt so wanted in your life with the way he appears to be savoring you. Leaving his own pleasure neglected once again, his entire focus is on you. You arch your back up a bit, hands shooting to his head and cradling it there against your breast. 

He groans when you scratch against the nape of his neck, wiggling your hips under him and chasing the sensation that his mouth manages to send to your clit. He groans again when your nipple remains firm between his lips, and he begins to nibble. 

And this time, he moans when he manages to trail one of his hands down just to see how much it will take of this to get you wet. He tucks one hand under your shorts, only to find that you’re already dripping, soaking his fingers with a mere single slide up your folds.

“Fuck,” He sighs as if it’s a compliment when he pops his mouth off of you, flicking his head up to look at your already dazed eyes. “Already?” 

You glance away, embarrassed by how badly you want the man who was once your best friend, and is now….more than that. You can feel his fingers graze and gently play around with the heat your body has already released for him, rolling your eyes back each time he pretends he’s going to offer pressure to your clit. 

He’s fucking teasing you, and you know it.

He knows it too, because of fucking course he is. After years of torture, wondering if you’d ever manage to get wet at all with the thought of him, here you are, dripping under him when all he’s done is kiss you and fondle your nipples. 

Briefly, he remembers how needy your hips were when his tongue was seeping into you. He remembers the taste of each thrust you pressed against his face, and the smell of how badly you needed him at the time. 

As used as he was by you that night, he wants nothing more now than to pull those same desperate moans from you, to taste the wet inside of you that no man ever managed to release for you. 

“I feel like I’m going insane,” He finally breathes out, still toying with your folds and keeping an eye on the way your eyes glare back at him. “I want you so fucking bad–” He stutters now, instantly sliding his fingers into you and scooting down on the bed at lightening speed, pressing your loose shorts to the side just to get the taste of you against his lips again.

Your legs instantly shoot over his shoulders, and one of his hands reaches up to hug your thigh against him as his tongue immediately laps at every dip and crease of your cunt. His eyes nearly roll back at being able to experience this again, his fingers holding firm without a single movement just so he can feel your body confirm that you want him just as much. 

The clench around his fingers are enough, and he licks around them only for a moment before returning his lips to your clit and giving you all he’s got. 

All he can feel is your legs tightening around his head, nearly lifting your ass up and off of the bed, all he can hear is his own moans vibrating through him each time he hears you react. 

Arguably, even after that brief moment of teasing from him, feeling his mouth so eager, much like before, sent you straight into a blissed state and made you forget about the restaurant, the shower, the weeks of pining before this. His mouth is so warm, and his vibrating moans sooth your clit through its desperate attempts to beg for more. 

You can’t help the fact that your legs hug his head, or the way your hands shoot down much like before, scratching through his hair before dropping down and spreading yourself open with two fingers solely to expose your clit in full to the assault of his tongue he’s giving you. 

He missed you so much, he missed this so much. Never again will he leave you wondering, from this point forward, you should be well aware that if you so much as pushed him to his knees and lifted a leg over his shoulder, he’d be eating like a fucking king. 

Still, even with his immense love for kissing your pussy until your legs shake, there’s more to be experienced here than just this. His pace slows with the reality of that, and only now does he move his fingers with intent, and he pulls back to see how you’re spreading yourself for him, even as your legs fall from his shoulders.

“Fuck.” He rasps, lips glistening with a mixture of his own saliva and your slick. 

You lend him a drunken smile, nodding slowly as you focus in on the way his fingers scissor you open. Within a blink though, his face is right there hovering above you, staring intently at the way you react to his fingers. 

“You look so good right now, you know that?” He compliments, leaning down again to plant a kiss against you, only pumping his fingers in faster when your kiss appears to be more hungry than his own. “God, I can feel you squeeze my fingers–” 

And it’s true, he’s seeing stars solely because he can feel the clench of your pussy walls pushing his two fingers together, almost pushing against his attempts to scissor you open and curl them into the spot inside he knows you have. He can only imagine how good that would feel if he were to…

His eyes squeeze shut in a drawn out moan at the thought, his own kiss growing more hungry as he releases the towel from his waist and quickens the pace of his fingers inside of you. 

You can feel him press his cock against you, and the weight of it only becomes heavier when his fingers pause inside of you just so he can slip them out and use those same slick-coated digits to hold his length down and against you before he slides it between your lips. Now coating himself in the same wet sensation. 

You listen closely to his moan, knowing that he seems fond of neglecting his own pleasure to the point of doing near-embarrassing things to get it back when he needs it the most. It’s strangled, almost. You can hear him swallow around it when he slides up harshly, bumping your clit and causing your shorts to stretch against the crease of your thigh. 

He seems so…desperate. Yet, he can have anything he wants. 

“Keep it spread open–” He mutters when he feels you try to remove the hand that had been holding your pussy out on display for him. “I want to feel all of it.”

God, you’ve never heard him say something so sexy. Easily you do as he says, now using both hands to hold either side of your pussy open for him, and feeling the underside of his length slide against your hole. 

You let out a pleased sigh, despite your shorts becoming a nuisance at this point. It’s easy to forget you’re still wearing them though, because they only become drenched more and more as the moments pass with Jake.

You can genuinely just assume that his cock must be aching as he does this, leaking all over you. That’s something you don’t mind at all, because the stimulation is far beyond what you could ever ask for. 

“Jake–” You try to speak, only to be cut off by his hand sliding under your head and his lips attaching yet again to you.

There, you can’t help it when you remove your hands and shoot them up to his face. Holding him there, feeling the way his jaw moves when he licks into your mouth in a desperate attempt to get as much of you as he can in this moment. 

His hips fuck forward much like they did into his palm all those weeks ago, and the anticipation of if or when he finally plunges it into you drives you to kiss him just as hard as he does you.

There is nothing but the sound of kissing in the room save for muffled moans from both of you, entirely tangled up together as he does nothing more than grind himself against you. His hand cradling your head and the other still pressing his length down and against you as close as he can manage. Yours, cupping his cheeks as he kisses you, up until you run one hand down to take over for him.

In that moment, with his free and now shaking hand, he pulls back entirely and just looks at you.

He’s out of it, entirely gone from this world as he stares down with his hair drying by the minute from that shower, messy as all hell with darkened hooded eyes. He continues to stare, each thrust against you becoming pointed to the extent that it almost feels like he’s already fucked you for hours. 

And then, you feel it. The weight lifting, your shorts being stretched until they’re sliding down your thighs and off of you, and then the warmth as he adjusts his hips just barely enough to line up with your quivering hole, practically begging for him to stretch you out for the first time. 

His eyes falter only for a moment when he realizes that this is a moment he will never forget. The way you look up at him with glassy and needy eyes, out of breath, seemingly loving him as much as he’s always loved you. 

“Yeah?” He whispers, not breaking eye contact even for a moment. 

“Please.” You mutter out, not fully intending for it to sound so broken.

And as broken as your voice was in that instance, he grows much weaker by it. Dropping his head with a deep sigh, a smile, and then a chuckle.

“You really, really, can’t look at me like that and expect me to be gentle…” He pauses to look at you again. “For your sake, please tell me to slow down.”

You can barely comprehend a word he’s saying when you can feel the head of his cock teasing where you need it the most. 

“Please.” You rasp out again, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing his body forward, ultimately sliding the tip of his length into you yourself. 

“Oh, fuck–” He chokes out before sucking in a breath and letting out a moan at the feeling. His body jerks at the sensation, the sound of your voice, the way you pulse around him. “Fuck, so good.” He continues to mutter, controlling himself for only a few seconds longer just to see if you have the ability to understand that he truly and honestly will not have the ability to go easy on you at this point. 

“Deeper.” You plead, squeezing your legs tighter around him, uncaring of his attempt to control the situation. 

That’s all it takes. Your broken voice already had him shaking, and now he’s giving up any and all control that he could have possibly hoped to have. 

Right there, with your legs hugging his waist, your hands gripping the pillow behind your head, and his hands finding purchase on either side of your shoulders, he sinks himself into you as deep as he can go and feels as if the life is being choked out of him over how fucking good it feels. 

He throws his head back in an erotic and attractive moan of relief, allowing you a glimpse at the expanse of his stretched neck, naked of any marked territory. Still, your vision goes white when the stretch hits you.

So big, so strong on top of you. You can imagine he really could fuck you hard, you hope he doesn’t go gentle on you at all, actually

“Shit, please,” You moan brokenly again, releasing your pillow and gripping his forearms. “Jake, god–” You have no words to describe how good he feels inside of you, you couldn’t begin to fathom trying to explain to him how perfect he is. 

It feels deep, deeper than you ever could have imagined. His length alone should have been enough to tell you that, but you hadn’t yet factored in the girth of it. So heavy inside of you, touching each soft and sensitive surface your pussy has to offer. 

Your body jolts in adjustment, knocking the breath out of you despite him not moving just yet. 

“Shh–” He soothes, not at all actually wanting to hush your cries for him. In fact, he’s simply saying it because he could quite literally release at any moment if you continue to speak and clench him like this. And when he finally looks down at you, he can’t fucking help it.

His hips move at their own volition, and he was right in believing there is no gentle fuck to be had here. He slides out only slightly, with the intent to fuck you as full of him as he can. He wants to stay deep, because you asked, and he wants to keep you feeling stretched around him because he can truly never get over the way you look and sound right now. 

You shake at the feeling of him pressing impossibly deeper into you, keeping his hips flush against you before snapping his hips back more now. A slightly empty feeling inside of you being filled once again within a second. 

His moans sound beautiful, he feels beautiful, and all you can do is stare up at him with watery eyes and a slack jaw, wondering why it took him so long to do this with you.

Wondering why it took you so long to want it at all, when now, you think you could never feel this good with another person again. 

His arms flex in your grasp with each thrust, and his eyes land on each visible part of your body before he weakens his stance and lowers himself to you, hips still fucking you open at a pace that’s only becoming more and more rapid, more and more fucking blinding. 

“Yeah, yeah–” Jake suddenly chimes with out of breath words, kissing you before you can comprehend or respond to those words. “No one has ever reacted like this for me–” He continues, pointing his thrusts harder into you. “Feels so good, so tight around me.” He chokes up at the last few words, stuttering his and picking up a different pace.

This time, those harsh thrusts pull back further, emptying you before slowly pressing into you again. 

“I want you to remember how this feels,” He continues, seemingly rambling against your lips with each slow thrust. “No one will ever fuck you like I will.” 

Your hooded eyes shoot open with arousal at his confident boasting. Those words feel so final, as if it isn’t even a rule, but a logical fact that only the two of you could ever find to be true. 

You can’t even manage a response, and instead moan before tucking your lips up and against his neck, using one hand to grip his hair and skew his head. 

That once naked and markless neck is no more. He is yours, and you’re lucky enough now to know that this is exactly how he wants you to feel. 

“Ahh, you like that?” He questions your reaction to his words, feeling your hips make attempts to meet him halfway with each thrust. “You like when I talk?” He continues to urge your sucking lips to speak out to him, to answer him, to boost his ego just a bit more. 

“So much,” You nearly whimper against his neck, moving your lips to another spot. “Love when you’re confident like this–”

He’s in heaven hearing those words. As if it’s a confirmation that he wasn’t just talking dirty. You both truly take those words and will fuck by them from this point forward. He truly doesn’t want anyone else, and hopefully, you’d never give another person the chance to make an attempt to fuck you the way he does. 

And then the room falls silent again, as if Jake is focused on reminding you with each passing second that he’s never been more sure or right of something in his life. Despite you already believing him, the way his cock pulses inside of you is enough of a reminder even if he had never said it in the first place. 

His pace quickens again, and then slows, and then stutters. Only to fall back into a good rhythm before his entire body starts to shake through the act. 

You wonder if this is it. Is this how his body reacts when he’s about to cum? Is this what his face looks like? Is this what his eyes do? Did his arms strain like this the first time? Did his moans come out as choked and desperate? 

None of that matters, because as quickly as it started, he buries himself into you again and stays in that one spot, shaking and timidly looking down at you. 

“Don’t move, please, don’t move.” He practically begs, losing himself to the way your hips chase the feeling of constant stimulation. “Stop moving.” He pleads again, pulling his chest from you and sitting up on his knees, keeping his cock in place deep within you. 

You watch him, unable to keep your hips still, and he watches you– trying to keep his orgasm under control before seeing your fingers trail down your stomach and to your clit.

There, he loses himself, watching you rub the soft spot just above where his cock stuffs you full. 

“I can’t,” He chokes out, snapping his hips back and allowing himself to get lost in the feeling. “Fuck, I really can’t.” He continues to mutter out, pressing his strings of cum ever deeper inside of you as he feels every muscle in his body tense. 

It feels so sensitive, but he can’t stop moving, feeling his cum fill you up to the point it’s surely being pressed out of you by his desperate length wanting nothing more than to stay inside of you.

You moan through it with him, encouraging him to lose himself inside of you, and he’s so beautiful when he does it. The fact that he does it at all has your body tensing on its own. Teetering on the edge of your own orgasm with the way your fingers almost aggressively chase after the feeling he appears to still be releasing inside of you.

And then, emptiness. You are left empty and dripping, fingers still chasing your release before–

“What the fu–” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of his tongue instantly back on you. As if he’s looping back to the beginning of it all, uncaring of tasting himself solely because through it all, he can still taste you. “Jake, Fuck–yes, right there.” You continue to groan when he replaces his tongue against your hole with his fingers, fucking into you as quickly as he can before nudging your fingers away and taking over the chase of your orgasm. 

You’re entirely amazed by how eager he is to pull it from you, and that alone is enough. The desperate ways in which he decided to pleasure you right in this moment, it’s enough.

Your hands instantly reach for his hair, gripping so tightly that you can hear the pained sound he lets out at the sheer force behind it. You very nearly rub his nose in the mess he’s made of you out of the sheer arousal you feel through your orgasm. 

You’re seeing white, feeling his fingers expertly work you open and somehow don’t feel disappointed at all that you didn’t get there before he pulled out of you. You can still feel him dripping out, fingers squelching and sliding through the mixture of both orgasms inside of you. And his tongue, good lord his fucking tongue, licking up every bit and eagerly flicking your clit at a pace much faster than he offered before.

And now, you find your legs nearly kicking him across the room. As soon as the orgasm subsides, your body goes into overdrive with the overwhelming sensitivity between your legs and all he can do is laugh at the way you practically do kick him.

Right off the bed, actually, he tumbles. 

You lay there, staring into space as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality when you see his messy hair and glistening eyes peek from the edge of your bed at you. His shoulders huffing with each deep breath he takes. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” You manage to gasp out, spread eagle and almost completely naked on your bed save for the forgotten shirt that’s still pushed up to your collarbone. 

He makes his way back up to you, pressing your legs together, lowering your shirt, and planting his heavy dead-weight right on top of you. 

A solid ten minutes pass as the two of you lay there in the mess you’ve both created. Heavy breaths turn to easy, balanced breaths together. You can barely hold your eyes open when he finally rolls off of you and right up against your side. 

“Can I ask you something?” He mutters, throat dry and stomach growling embarrassingly loud. 

“Hm?” You hum out, entirely ready to just sleep in the mess.

“Are you always like that?” He questions, a little hint of doubt breaking his confidence. “Like, did Sunghoon see you act like that too?” 

You crack your eyes open and instantly turn to face him. 

“You’re insane if you think Sunghoon is that good. I’ve never used the word ‘please’ in my life.”

Jake glances away, thinking to himself and letting those words sink in.

“Well,” He starts, pausing and feeling that little pit in his stomach return. “That’s a lie because I’ve heard you use your manners at least twice in the years I’ve known you.” 

You smile, loving that the two of you can still be somewhat catty and playful even after the fact that you just realized how insanely in love with him you are. 

“Jake, no one has ever made me act like this in bed.” You try to reassure him. “I don’t think anyone else could, besides you.”

He smiles with a nod, running his hands down your body before pausing at the half dried cum that managed to make its way up to your stomach. And then? He groans. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s insane really, that all it took for you to fall in love with the person you think you were always meant to love was him admitting it. Even more insane that he decided to take the route that involved faux playful head, with no feelings attached despite his feelings being deeply fucking attached. 

Still, the route taken to get to this point, he thinks, is fitting for the two of you. Especially now that he can look at Sunghoon without wanting to strangle him, and he can look at you knowing you’d very much invite him to strangle you, you know, considering the fact that you’re now trying to explore every sexual realm in the fucking universe with him.

Even with the desperate need to have you under him any chance he gets, and the fucking, and the arousal, none of it shines brighter than the small intimate moments he has with you that aren’t weighed down by pining or lust. 

As playful as the two of you are together, there is so much love here. So much love to still be discovered too, and he can’t help but feel excited by it. 

Romance isn’t dead, despite how the two of you tried to fucking butcher it. 

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

your little brother, my little secret

yn and joy share every secret, until yn returns from university to find joy's little brother jake has become irresistibly hot. maybe keeping just one secret from your best friend won't hurt… right?

PAIRING : best friends little brother!jake x reader

GENRE : smut & angst. jake's (shy) a sub for majority of it. dirty talk, masturbation, degrading + humiliation, & y/n is a menace.

WC : 14k

mdni

you’ve been counting down the days until summer for what feels like forever. you’re returning to your hometown for the entire two months you have until university starts again in september. 

you’ve been driving for miles now, just having to go to a university two hours away from your small hometown. but the summer air is thick and humid, and it blows throughout the car as all the windows are down. 

your best friend, joy, sits beside you. you’ve known her for just as long as she has moved into your small town when you both were ten. since then, you’ve shared everything together; every laugh, every tear… every secret. her family feels like your own, summers spent in their backyard, evenings filled with board games and cards. some nights in high school even included sneaking out to a party and drinking until you thought you’d throw up. 

last summer was different. you were abroad doing an internship for university. and you didn’t get a chance to stay long during christmas break. so, it’s been a while since you’ve actually stayed in your hometown with all its familiarities. 

“jake will be home when we get there,” joy says, loud enough to be heard over the wind and faint music. 

“oh right, how’s he liking university?” 

jake is joy’s little brother. he’s always been shy, introverted, prefers to stay home and play video games instead of going out like you and joy. you remember him as a cute kid, all wide eyed and shy smiles. you don’t remember him having much friends, he’d rather be alone in his room. it’s hard for you to imagine him navigating the crowded university, but you suppose he’s all grown up now. it’s been so long since you’ve seen him, and the thought of how much he changed lingers in your mind. 

“he likes it,” joy says, her long black hair blowing out the window, “he’s excited for summer like we are.” 

you nodded in response, thinking maybe jake would go out with you guys now instead of playing video games in his room all summer. 

“we gotta go to hyunjin’s this week!” joy declares, her eyes lighting with anticipation, “you know he’s throwing a big party this week. and then, there’s that new bar that opened downtown. we have to check it out!” 

you agree with joy. her energy is infectious despite her brash (sometimes too brash) exterior. joy has always been more straightforward and perhaps blunt than you are. when sometimes you can be a people pleaser and a pushover, joy is there to say the words you wish you could say. 

“i can’t wait,” you reply, “it’s been too long since we’ve had a proper night out.” 

joy shoots you a mischievous grin, her confidence unwavering, “oh trust me, yn. this summer, we’re going all out.” 

you roll your eyes at your pretty best friend, pulling into her family’s driveway swiftly. 

you and joy step through the front door of the house, a place that is more familiar and comforting than your own. the place smells like a home cooked meal and you are instantly greeted with joy’s parents’ smiles. joy’s mother envelops you in a hug, her warmth and kindness instantly easing any fatigue from the long drive. 

"oh, yn, joy, it's so good to see you both!" joy's mother exclaims, her smile radiant. "dinner will be ready shortly. you must be exhausted after the drive. please, sit down in the living room and relax."

joy's father joins in, his jovial voice filling the room. "how was the trip? traffic wasn't too bad, i hope?" her parents' genuine concern and hospitality are a stark contrast to your own parents. 

"it was fine, dad," joy replies, her tone affectionate yet tinged with a hint of impatience. "we're just glad to be home for the summer."

you smile over your shoulder at her parents as she drags you to the living room. it looks the same as you remember it; comfy fabric couch, family photos on the walls, lit candles around the room that mix with the smell of dinner. 

joy props her feet up on the coffee table as she starts to scroll her phone. a nonchalant smile plays on her lips, “can’t believe we’re back here.” she says with a sigh.

before you can respond, a sudden noise draws your attention towards the backdoor. two figures emerge, their arms swaying as they laugh and push each other. 

“hey guys,” joy's casual greeting halts their antics momentarily, but it's the sight of you on the couch that freezes one of the boys in his tracks. he stands there, awkward and unsure.

the other boy remains cool and confident as he greets joy and walks over to you both on the couch. he stands in front of you, sticking his hand out in front of your face, “i’m heeseung.” 

you look up at him as he stands, his features are chiseled. his eyes are a deep shade of brown. his smile is almost cocky, but disarming as he flashes it effortlessly. there’s an aura of assurance about him, that he knows he’s good looking and he’s confident about it. 

your hand meets his, “i’m y/n.” your eyes flicker back to the boy who remains rooted to the spot, his expression unreadable as he almost quiets away into the wall. 

“are you gonna come hug your sister, jake?” joy squeaks from beside you, she octaves her voice higher to be annoying on purpose. 

it’s then that you realize who is standing there in the corner– you almost didn’t recognize him. 

the shy, nerdy kid you once knew is now standing before– transformed in a way that catches you off guard. where once stood a lanky teenager, now stands a man that is toned and tanned. his hair is longer and tousled in a way that accentuates his features. he’s taller and broader. 

as you take in his appearance, you can’t help but be struck by how insanely hot he has become. 

he shifts nervously, perhaps sensing your gaze. his eyes turn to joy, “no way in hell am i hugging you.” 

joy's mother breezes into the room with a warm smile, "oh jake, give your sister a hug."

joy springs up instantly, tackling jake in a bear hug that's both affectionate and overly enthusiastic. jake groans, awkwardly patting joy's back as everyone chuckles. heeseung, settles down next to you, a confident smirk playing on his lips, his eyes holding a hint of nothing other than flirtatious. 

"right, yn," joy's mother continues, her tone gentle yet teasing, "heeseung here has been keeping jake entertained since you left."

heeseung chimes in, his voice dripping with sarcasm and humor. "yeah, we're inseparable now," he says with a grin.

you laugh, unable to resist teasing. "oh really? i remember jake having no friends at all."

joy joins in, her laughter ringing through the room. "seriously, all he did was stay in his room playing video games."

"be nice, girls," she says playfully. "joy, come help me with dinner. set up a place for heeseung, too."

heeseung stands up with a mock bow. "don't worry, i'll set up my own place."

joy groans at having to help, leaving you and jake alone in the living room, complaining about why she has to help but jake doesn’t. 

jake settles into the chair directly across you, but his body language shows he’s tense and restless and it suggests that he’d rather be anywhere else. he fidgets slightly, fingers rolling over each other in his lap, his eyes darting around the room and avoiding you. 

“so, joy told me that you’ve been liking university,” you speak, trying to ease him and the awkwardness. 

jake’s cheeks colour faintly, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “uh yeah, it’s fine.” he mumbles, avoiding your gaze. 

you lean back casually, “meet any hot college girls?” 

jake’s eyes widen as he shifts uncomfortably, a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty flickering in his eyes. it’s endearing; how he still seems like the shy, introverted boy you’ve always known, now trapped in a hot guy’s body. 

“n-no, not really,” he stutters out. he can’t seem to meet your eyes when he speaks, his words stumbling over each other in a rush. it’s clear he finds you intimidating in a way, and you wonder what the reason is. maybe you’ll have to play with him a bit to figure it out. 

“really?” you tilt your head, your eyes not leaving him as he struggles to eye you, “i would’ve thought you had girls climbing all over you.” 

jake’s face redden more but he answers you, “no, that’s what happens to heeseueng.” he nods his head towards the kitchen. 

“hmm,” you sit back in the couch. you aren’t surprised that a boy like heeseung would attract a lot of women. he’s confident, outgoing and obviously attractive, but you’re surprised at jake’s answer. 

before you can question him more, joy pops her head in the living room, “come eat guys.” 

jake and you stand up and head to the dining table to eat. you think to yourself that this will be a fun summer as you glance around the room. heeseung eyes your bare legs as you sit beside him and start to eat. jake sits on the other side of the table, trying to not get caught staring at you as his parents ask your best friend questions about the school year.

you're sitting on the couch, tapping your foot impatiently, waiting for joy to finish her chores so you can head out and buy a dress for hyunjin's party this week. she's taking forever, folding laundry meticulously in the living room while you're itching to go. 

“joy hurry up, i wanna go!” you groan out to her, bored of scrolling on your phone as you wait for her. 

she rolls her eyes at you, “it’s not my fault that i’m an adult and have to do family chores, y/n.” 

“i know that! but you could do them faster.” 

she shoots you a look when you groan again, a playful smirk on her face. "fine, then help me," she says, handing you a basket overflowing with clothes. "bring this up to jake's room, it's all his disgusting clothes."

with a resigned sigh, you stand up and grab the heavy basket, muttering under your breath about how slow she is. 

you knock softly on jake's door, holding the basket of clothes joy asked you to deliver. after a moment, his voice replies, "come in." you push the door open slowly, finding jake sitting up on his bed, his feet on the ground facing you. 

"oh, hey yn," he says, his voice a little nervous and shocked once he sees you, his hand flying to hair to calm it. 

ey," you reply with a warm smile, stepping into his room. "joy wanted me to bring these to you. clean clothes," you explain, holding out the basket.

oh, thanks," jake mumbles, “you can just leave it on the floor there.” 

"no problem," you say casually, noticing how he avoids meeting your gaze. 

you step into jake's room, to place the basket down. you take the time to look around the once familiar room. it’s no longer childish, and clearly belongs to an adult. 

you glance at jake as you scan his room. he's sitting on his bed, looking slightly disheveled in grey sweatpants and a baggy sweater, his tousled hair indicating he's just woken up, so you ask him, “were you sleeping?” 

he nods sheepishly, “yeah i was out late with heeseung last night,” he admits, playing with the sleeves of his hoodie. 

you sit down beside him on the bed, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. the new information about his late-night outing intrigues you, prompting a teasing remark. "really? the jake sim goes out late? i can't believe it," you say with a playful smile.

he chuckles nervously, looking away from you. the awkwardness between you is palpable, despite the years of knowing each other. 

you can't help but notice how shy he still seems around you, his eyes avoiding yours as he tries to compose himself.

"are you this shy around everyone, jakey?" you ask bluntly, the nickname perks his interest. 

he glances at you, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "uh, I don't know, I guess," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.

“hmm,” you sit back on your hands on his bed, looking so casual next to his tense demeanor. you decide to keep pushing, wanting to see how far he’ll let you tease him. because you do love teasing men. it’s something that you find fun– more exciting than any foreplay or sex. joy always questions you about it. she doesn’t understand why you find it more thrilling to leave a man wanting more and then doing nothing about it. she likes to get her men swiftly and straightforwardly– like everything else in her life. but how is life fun without any games? “so what did you and heeseung get up to last night? anything… exciting happen?” your eyes hold his, challenging and enticing him all at once. 

jake’s adams apple bobs in his throat as he swallows, his eyes widening slightly at your bold question. “w-we just hung out, went to a bar and lost track of time.” 

“mmm, i see,” you let your gaze travel over him, taking in the cute way his bottom lip juts out. “so you were up late last night then? do you know what i do when i’m up late at night?” you lean towards him now. he stares at your face for a second, gulping when he realizes how close you are on his bed. 

“uh, what?” 

“naughty things.” you shrug nonchalantly. his eyes widen at your boldness and he shifts again, unable to hide his growing arousal. “did you think about naughty things last night, jakey?” 

“n-no,” he stammers, shaking his head, but the flush on his cheeks gives him away. 

you tsk at him, “jakey, you can tell me. i won’t judge. in fact, i might even like hearing those naughty thoughts of yours.” 

jake’s breath quickens as your pinky finger starts to brush against his thigh. “i… i don’t know,” he whispers, his voice hoarse from arousal and sleep. 

“go on,” you urge, your lips curving into a wicked smile, “you can tell me. do you think about me late at night?” 

a sound of shock escapes his throat, and he shifts, trying to ignore the growing hardness in his jeans, “maybe.” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. 

that’s it. you’ve got your in– he’s let you start a little game with him that could potentially make both of you feel good. 

“tell me,” you encourage him, your fingers now stroking his thigh up and down. “what about me do you think of?” 

his eyes squeeze shut, “just… you.” 

you laugh softly at his shyness, but you are so delighted by his response, “i want to hear more from you jake. what do you think about when you’re touching yourself?”

jake’s eyes fly open, a mixture of emotions swirling in their brown depths. desire wars with embarrassment, “i…i think about your body,” he confesses, his voice gaining some strength. “your soft skin, your- your curves. i imagine kissing you.”

you smile at how sweet he is, “that’s such a turn on, jakey.” he looks taken aback at your confession. “tell me what else you’d do to me if you could.” 

he gulps roughly, “i- i’d, make you cum.” 

you tilt your head, intrigued, “how?” 

“with my mouth.” 

you bite your lip at the thought of jake in between your legs, sucking and licking your core, getting you wet, preparing you for his cock. you wonder if he’d make you cry out from how good it would feel. you’re sure he would. 

but then you remember that this is a game. 

“hmm,” you shake your head at him, “you think that you’d make me cum?” you pretend to scan his body up and down, your hand getting dangerously close to his crotch. “we’d have to see about that.” you glance down at where your hand is meeting his body and are pleased to see his bulge, hard and pressing against his sweatpants.

before you can tease him further, his bedroom door swings further open, causing your hand to move briskly away from him. joy leans on the doorframe, her expression a mix of annoyance and impatience. 

“y/n you were rushing me, and now i’m waiting for you,” she groans, crossing her arms. “let’s go!” 

you stand up, giving jake a final teasing smile, “see you later, jakey.” you head towards the door, closing it after you, leaving him with some privacy to take care of the problem in his pants that you had created.

on the weekend, you got ready for hyunjin’s party at joy’s house. you just got out of the shower, your hair soaked and your skin damp and moisturized. 

you wrap the soft, white towel around your body, shaking your hair to get left over water out of it once more before you leave the bathroom to go to joy’s room. 

you step out of the bathroom, as you walk passed jake’s bedroom, his door swings up. his eyes glued to his phone as he steps out of his room. he glances up just as you pass by, and you catch the moment his eyes widen in surprise. his gaze lingers on you, a mix of arousal and embarrassment. like he’s unsure of what to do. 

you don’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on you as you continue walking. there’s a slight flush on his cheeks and his posture stiffens. you smirk to yourself, enjoying the effect you have on him. enjoying the game you can play with him. it feels good to know you can fluster him so easily. 

you walk into joy’s bedroom, hearing her complain about her makeup looking awful already. you turn, giving jake one last glance before you close her door. his eyes quickly dart away, but the memory of his flustered expression stays with you. 

“god my eyeliner looks horrendous,” you hear joy say into her mirror, you turn so your back is facing her and you start to get dressed in the dress you bought the other. 

“it looks good, what're you talking about?” 

joy groans in response as you slip on the dress. you start to do your own makeup and hair, listening to the faint music in joy’s room. 

“do you think heeseung is cute?” joy asks suddenly. 

your face contorts to confusion, “i mean, i guess.” 

“i think so,” 

you whip around to look at your friend, “ew what? he’s your brother's friend.” 

joy shrugs, “so?” 

you turn away from her, instead focusing on putting on mascara, “so, you would let one of your friends get with your brother?” 

joy gags, “god, no. plus who the hell would want jake anyways? he’s gross.” 

you force a laugh to come out of your mouth, “haha, yeah…” you cringe at yourself. 

it’s silent for a moment and you think joy realizes that you’re acting weird at the mention of her brother. 

“ugh!” joy grunts loudly, making you jump and look at her, “i look awful, i’m gonna wash it all off and start again.”

“what? but we have to leave soon.” 

“i’ll be quick.” 

joy dashes out to the bathroom, leaving you to finish up in silence. leaving you to think more about what happened between you and jake so far and how it could affect your friendship with joy. you tell each other everything, but this… maybe you should keep to yourself, at least for a bit. 

when joy decides she looks good (she looks the exact same before she washed it off and restarted), you both head downstairs to leave. your heels click on the steps as you walk down. as you reach the bottom, you see heeseung jake in the hallway, also preparing to head out. 

you let your eyes scan jake, his jeans and loose button up shirt fit him nicely. and his long hair is somewhat styled out of his face. leaving him with a “i didn’t try” look. 

"you guys are going to hyunjin's?" joy asks, her tone casual but curious.

"yeah, we are. i didn't know you guys are, too," heeseung replies, a hint of surprise in his voice.

joy smirks at him, "yeah, we'll see you guys there, oh! i almost forgot my phone." she turns on her heel and heads back upstairs, leaving you alone with the boys.

heeseung's eyes scan you flirtatiously, and he smirks, "you look so good, y/n."

you play along, enjoying the banter, "thanks heeseung, you do too."

heeseung bites his lip, his gaze lingering on you. "maybe you'll save me a dance at the party."

you're momentarily taken aback by his forwardness but quickly recover, used to men like him. "maybe. but you'll have to get in line."

heeseung laughs at your joke, "i will."

joy comes back down, phone in hand. you glance at jake, who has been silent the entire time, his eyes flickering between you and the floor. you wave goodbye to the boys, feeling jake's gaze on you as you leave.

you and joy are driving to hyunjin's party. joy is singing along to the radio, excited for the night ahead. you glance at her and smile, but your mind is elsewhere. you've always played games with men, testing to see if they would submit to you or try to dominate you. it's a defense mechanism, something you've developed over the years to protect yourself.

your parents' rocky marriage and your past relationships have left you scarred. every time you let your guard down, you ended up hurt. so now, you stay in control, never letting anyone get too close. it's easier that way. safer.

you glance at joy again, grateful for her friendship. she's the only one who knows a bit about your past. the one person who knows all of your secrets. 

you and joy step into hyunjin's party, it’s as busy as you remember hyunjin’s parties to be. the music is loud, and the chatter of all the guests is even louder. 

you scan the room, spotting hyunjin across the way. a grin spreads across your face as you make your way over, joy trailing behind you.

"hyunjin!" you call out, and he turns, his face lighting up with recognition.

"yn! it's been ages!" he pulls you into a tight hug, and you laugh, hugging him back. you tell him how you’re so excited to be back in town for the summer and that you’re sure to be back at one of his parties again. 

you move through the room, greeting old hometown friends. familiar faces bring back memories, and you find yourself laughing and sharing stories about your time abroad and life in the big city. the warmth of the alcohol courses through your veins, making you feel lighter, more at ease while in such a big crowd. 

halfway through the night, the buzz from the drinks makes everything feel a bit more vibrant. the room spins slightly, but in a fun, exhilarating way. it's then that you spot jake and heeseung. they don’t blend into the crowd, and your eyes are drawn to them. they’re too tall and handsome to be at this party. 

heeseung approaches you first, a lopsided grin on his face. "hey, y/n! having fun?" he slurs slightly, his breath smelling of alcohol.

you laugh, finding his drunken self amusing. "yeah, a blast! how about you?"

heeseung nods enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "totally. i'm gonna get another drink, though. see you in a bit!" he winks and stumbles away, leaving you alone with jake.

jake stands there, drink in hand, looking slightly more composed but still nervous. he meets your eyes, and for once, doesn't immediately look away.

"hey, jake," you say, taking a step closer. "enjoying the party?"

he nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. "yeah, it's fine.”

you laugh softly as he glances around the crowd, obviously not use to being around so many people yet, “yeah it’s a lot. but it’s good to see you out for once. you never wanted to go out with us in high school.” 

he takes a sip of his drink, gaining a bit more confidence. "it's good to see you too, yn. you look... really nice tonight."

you smile, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the alcohol. "thanks, jake. you look good too."

then jake speaks, but the music and people talking and yelling is too loud for you to hear. and you really want to hear everything he has to say. 

“let’s go somewhere quieter, it’s loud down here, right?” you yell so he can hear you. he nods and doesn’t say anything. 

you turn around and head upstairs, he follows along behind you. you feel his curiosity build. at the top of the stairs, you spot the bathroom and an idea forms in your mind. 

“actually, i need to go to the bathroom,” you laugh, placing a hand on his chest. “wait here, i won’t be long.” 

his eyes widen, but he nods, biting his lip. 

you enter the bathroom, but before you close the door you speak to him again, “actually, i have a favour to ask– could you unzip me? the zippers at the back and i can’t reach.” you gesture behind you. 

his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and nods, following you into the bathroom and closing the door behind you both. you make sure to lock the door. 

you turn so your back is facing him, the zipper on display for him, “just unzip it, please.”

jake hesitates but reaches up, grabbing the zipper and slowly pulls it down, your bare back on display for him. you smile at him once he pulls away and you turn around to face him completely. 

“jakey,” you tease the nickname, “have you thought about me since our conversation in your bedroom?”

jake gulps but nods, his eyes trying to meet yours, trying to look confident, “y-yes.” 

you smile sweetly at him, “what have you thought about?” you take a step back and then jump onto the bathroom counter, crossing your legs. jake eyes your bare legs, the way your dress bunched up at your waist to reveal more. 

“uh, just that i could make you cum, with my mouth.” 

you smile at him, though he’s too busy looking between your legs, your chest and the bathroom wall. “hm,” you pretend to think, “how about we start with you showing me how you can make yourself cum?” jake’s eyes shoot to yours at your suggestion, finally looking at your face since you’ve stepped foot in the bathroom. “i mean, only if you want. but i’d kill to see how you jerk off to the thought of me.” 

you hear jake swallow roughly, “okay.” 

you can’t help the devilish smile spread on your face at his one word, “take your cock out.” 

jake tries to hide his shock, barely believing that this is happening, as he starts to unbutton his jeans and shove them and his boxers down his leg. his semi hard cock springs up, he’s obviously aroused just from unzipping your dress halfway. he’s so easy to get flustered that it turns you on– you know this will be fun. 

“show me how desperate you are.” 

jake’s mouth goes dry at your words as they send a thrill through his body. he reaches down and wraps his hand around his throbbing cock, giving it a few tentative strokes to make it completely hard and needy. 

“that’s it, dirty boy,” you coo, encouraging him, “spit on it. show me exactly how you touch yourself.” 

jake moves so his hand is under his plump lips, and then lets a dribble of saliva pool down onto his palm. he brings his hand back to his hard cock and starts to jerk his cock now. it glides more smoothly now, and jake feels the urge to buck into his hand. 

“do you think about me all the time when your little dick gets hard, jakey?” 

jake’s cheeks burn, but he can’t deny your words, “yes…” he whispers hoarsely into the bathroom. 

“speak louder, jakey– i wanna be able to hear you.” 

“yes, i think about you.” 

you chuckle, it’s only just the beginning but you seem to have him wrapped around your finger.

“and what am i doing? when you think of me?” 

“you touching me, sucking me.” jake manages to croak out, his voice thick with arousal. 

as jake starts stroking himself faster, his breath comes in short gasps. you watch him with hooded eyes, a cruel smile playing on your lips, “you’ll only ever be able to think about me touching you,” you purr to him from your perched spot on the counter, “i only touch real men, men who can last and fill me up. and you…” you shake your head, looking straight at his hard cock, “you’ll never be able to satisfy me.” 

jake whimpres, his hips bucking involuntarily, “i want to please you.” 

you laugh coldly, “please me? you? with that tiny dick? you won’t fill me up. and the way you’re jerking off right now, you won’t last long enough to even try.” 

your taunts spur him on, his hand moving faster and faster. he bites his lip to stifle a moan, wanting to prove you wrong in this little game, but the more he tries to hold back, the closer he gets to the edge. 

“see, you won’t even last with just your hand, how would you be able to last in my pussy?” 

“i- i would try.” jake whimpers out, his eye is threatening to close. his hand starts to slow, wanting to last longer for you. 

you hum at the action, “good boy.” you dig your hand into your thigh, trying to control your own arousal, trying to pretend like you aren’t turned on at all. “now think that it’s me touching you. that it’s my hands stroking your hard cock up and down, getting you close to the edge.” 

you can tell jake starts to think exactly what you tell him, you stand from your position on the counter, you let your face nuzzle in between his neck, your warm breath sends shivers down his spine. “that’s it, pretend it’s me and my spit all over your cock.” jake whimpers out at your words so you continue, “you’re mine to play with, right?” 

“y-yes,” jake nods up and down, his thumb brushing over his sensitive slit before he continues to jerk his cock. 

you can’t say it– due to this character in this game you’re playing with him– but he looks so hot. the way he’s pathetically thrusting into his own palm, covering in his own spit and precum. his lip is tucked in between his teeth, his styled hair has fallen into his eyes. his whimpers and moans as he gets closer to his climax. 

“cum for me now, jakey. let it go like a good boy.” you whisper to him, “this is the only way you’ll ever get off– by jerking off so pathetically while i degrade you.” 

your words push him over the edge. jake cries out, a curse followed by your name. his body tensing as he spills his release, coating his hand and thighs with his cum. you step away from him, trying to ignore the way your pussy is clenching around nothing at the sight. because this is definitely a sight to see. 

“what a mess you’ve made,” you tsk at him, pretending to be disgusted by him, “but i think you need to prove that you can do better– hold out longer. because then maybe, you’d someday get to feel my pussy around that pathetic cock of yours.”

your words make him whimper out. the combination of humiliation, degradation and his intense orgasm leaves jake reeling. he leans against the wall of the bathroom, trying to catch his breath as he’s covered in his own cum and saliva. 

he watches you reach behind you and zip up your dress easily, quickly fixing your hair and makeup in the mirror before you smile at him one last time. 

“now clean up your mess and get yourself together, jakey. we don’t want anyone knowing what happened here, do we?” 

with that, you unlock the door and stride out of the bathroom, leaving jake alone to process what just happened. your heart is still racing and your body feels dissatisfied and yearning for more. but you know that jake has awakened something deep within you– and you can’t wait to play with him again.

you walk into the kitchen the next morning, the light almost blinding after last night's party. the smell of coffee and bacon fills the air, but it does little to ease the pounding in your head. you see jake, joy, and heeseung already sitting at the table, all looking as rough as you feel.

"well, don't you all look lovely," joy's mother says with a chuckle, examining the four of you all hungover and tired. 

as you sit down at the table in front of jake you try to muster a smile and say, "hi, jake," but he doesn't acknowledge you. he stares down at his plate, pushing his food around with a fork. the cold shoulder stings more than you'd like to admit, and you can feel a tightness in your chest.

you focus on your breakfast, determined not to let the hurt show. the last thing you want is for joy or heeseung to pick up on the tension. you take a sip of coffee, hoping it will jolt you back to life, but it only makes your stomach churn.

heeseung groans dramatically, leaning back in his chair. "hyunjin's parties never disappoint, huh?"

joy laughs, though it sounds more like a wince. "yeah, remind me to never drink that much again."

under the table, you poke jake with your foot to get him to look at you, he briefly does, but his warm eyes are now cold and glaring before he looks down at his plate again. 

you nod along, forcing yourself to join in the conversation. "definitely a night to remember... or forget."

jake stays silent, not looking at you again. you glance at him from the corner of your eye, trying to understand what went wrong. heeseung and joy are too wrapped up in their own misery to notice the silent exchange between you and jake. 

you keep your head down, focusing on your food instead. 

after breakfast, you sit back in your chair, hoping the food will settle your uneasy stomach. heeseung stretches and yawns. "how about a movie? something low volume to help with these headaches."

everyone nods in agreement, except for jake. he stands up, his plate still half full. "i'm going back to bed," he mumbles, avoiding your gaze.

you watch him walk away, a mix of frustration and hurt bubbling inside you. "i'll be right back," you tell joy and heeseung. "need to use the bathroom."

you hurry upstairs, your heart pounding. you catch jake just as he's about to slip into his room. without thinking, you reach out and grab his upper arm, forcing him to turn around and face you. his eyes are still cold, distant.

"jake," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "what's going on? why are you ignoring me?"

he looks away, his jaw tight. "i'm not ignoring you. just tired."

"no, you're not," you insist, stepping closer, not wanting anyone to hear. "you've been avoiding me since last night. do you regret what we did?"

jake finally meets your gaze, you can see the conflict in his eyes. once he sees your concerned ones, his cold expression starts to melt and blends into the usual, shy and embarrassed one. 

“talk to me, jake.” 

he sighs, giving in to easily to you like always, “it’s just… you left so quick. i didn’t even get to say goodbye.” 

instantly you realize why he’s upset– your actions flashing in your head from the night before. you bite your lip in frustration at yourself, suddenly you were the one to be embarrassed. you understood how upsetting it can be for the other person to just leave so quick with no aftercare or reassurance. you want to blame the alcohol for your actions the night before, but that’s no excuse. you should’ve stayed for a few minutes. 

“you’re right, jake.” you state, his eyes meeting yours in surprise, “i should’ve stayed longer. i’m sorry– that wasn’t right of me. we should’ve talked more about what we are doing and how we feel about it. you know nothing i said during it was true right? like… about your dick and stuff. it’s all just for fun.” 

jake nods, unsure of what to say but is agreeing with you, so you continue. though, you can’t tell if he truly understands that you don’t mean the words you say during your time together. 

“besides staying longer, checking in on each other, is there anything else you would want? are you okay with what we are doing? with what happened last night?” 

jake gulps but stands up straight, looking at you, determined, “yes, i'm okay with what we are doing–more than okay.” his confession makes you smile, “but, i want to touch you, make you feel good, not just me.”

you bite your lip and think about it, “okay, we can do that– just give me time okay?” 

you usually don’t let the people you are hooking up with touch you or see you naked until you are 100% comfortable with the person. when you trust the person. but you’ve known jake for majority of your life… why would this be any different with him. you could trust him… right? 

“yeah, sure. all the time, just for you.” 

you meet his eyes at his words. he’s always so sweet to you, it makes you feel more guilty for the night before. 

“okay jakey, i’ll see you later.”

“see you later, y/n.” 

jake steps into his room and closes the door with a final wave. leaving you with your pounding headache and nausea. you sigh and head back downstairs to rest on the couch with joy and heeseung. you’ll worry about your situation with jake later when you can think straight.

joy bursts into her bedroom with a squeal, her energy contagious. "oh my god, and i forgot to tell you what happened at hyunjin's party the other day."

you lift your head from the bed, curiosity piqued. "oh god, what?"

joy plops down beside you, eyes wide with excitement. "jeno and i kissed."

you sit up, mirroring her excitement. "what? no way! how did that happen?"

she grins, her cheeks flushing. "we were both pretty drunk, and we ended up talking in the kitchen. one thing led to another, and... yeah."

"oh my god, joy, that's huge!" you exclaim, leaning in closer. "how was it? did he kiss you first? did you like it?"

joy nods, her eyes sparkling. "yeah, he kissed me first. and it was... amazing. but now things are kinda weird between us."

"weird how?" you ask, your mind racing with possibilities.

"he's been acting all distant and awkward," she says with a sigh. "i don't know what to do."

you squeeze her hand reassuringly. "maybe he just needs time to process it. you should talk to him."

she nods, her smile returning. "yeah, you're right. i'll talk to him."

you both fall back onto the bed, giggling. joy turns to you, her expression softening. "ugh, i can't believe i forgot to tell you that. we tell each other everything. i forget you can't read my mind sometimes. i'm so glad we are best friends."

she pulls you into a tight hug, and you hug her back just as tightly. "no secrets between us, ever," joy says firmly.

"right... of course," you reply, but your mind drifts to jake.

you hug joy a little closer, feeling the weight of your own secret.

the heat is unbearable by the end of july, and you're grateful for the relief of joy's family's pool. you and joy have been lounging in the cool water all day, floating lazily and enjoying the rare stillness. the sun beats down, relentless, but the water makes it bearable.

jake and heeseung come out, both in their bathing suits. you can't help but check out jake's body. his muscles are more defined, his skin tanned. he catches your gaze and blushes, looking away quickly. it makes you smile. even after cumming in front of you, he’s still so shy. 

the day drags on, the sun slowly sinking in the sky, casting long shadows over the backyard. heeseung eventually heads home, throwing a casual wave your way. joy decides to go inside, “i need to wash this chlorine out of my hair or else it’ll feel disgusting.” you nod, watching her leave, and suddenly you and jake are alone.

the silence between you holds tension. you float closer to him, your movements slow and deliberate. he seems nervous, his eyes darting everywhere but at you. you find it endearing, his shyness, his awkwardness. he can’t look at you in a bathing suit, how could he look at you naked?

"it's nice out here," you say softly, breaking the silence.

he nods, glancing at you briefly. "yeah, it is."

you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he's holding himself so tightly. you move closer, your fingers brushing against his under the water. he tenses, but doesn't pull away.

"you've changed a lot, jakey," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

he finally looks at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable. "so have you."

you tilt your head to the side, intrigued, “how so?” 

he hesitates, his gaze flickering away before returning to meet yours. "you're more... confident. and, uh, you seem happier."

you try not to frown as his words bring you back to when you were in highschool. your parents were going through a divorce, your idiot highschool boyfriend cheated on you and you weren’t doing well in school. the only thing you really had was joy and her family that welcomed you in so warmly. you guess you forgot that jake had seen you at such a dark time. 

"yeah, those were tough times," you admit softly, your fingers trailing absently through the water. "but things got better."

he nods, watching you with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "i'm glad they did. you deserve to be happy."

"thanks, jake. that means a lot."

he shifts closer, his movements tentative and careful. "i always wanted to say something back then, but i didn't know how."

you raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "say what?"

"that you weren't alone," he says quietly. "that i was there for you, even if you didn't see it."

the vulnerability in his voice makes your heart ache. you reach out, your fingers brushing against his arm. "that’s sweet of you, jakey."

he looks at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“you said, you wanted to make me feel good too, right jakey?” you ask, your voice practically purring. 

jake gulps at the sudden change in atmosphere. the sun is dipping down in the sky, you’re in a bathing suit that brings out the colour of your eyes, and now you’re talking about him making you feel good. he feels like he’s in heaven. 

“y-yeah, if you want.” he replies shakily. 

you smile at his sweetness once again, “then go on and touch me.” you command, “prove to me that those fingers of yours are good for something.” 

jake hesitates, knowing that his pleasure is entirely dependent on yours now. but slowly, he reaches out and places his hands on your hips– the first time he’s ever touched you. “if your fingers can’t make me feel good, then what hope does your cock have?” 

you watch jake’s face, enjoying the desperation and determination in his eyes.

slowly, jake’s hand goes under the way, tracing the hem of your bathing suit bottoms. you have to bite your lip to hold back your gasp. his fingers trace over the cloth of your swimsuit, until they hover over where your clit is. 

jake begins to rub in slow circles, gently at first, then with more pressure as you struggle to hold back a soft moan. 

“hm,” you pretend to scold him, “do you even know how to touch a woman, or have you been too busy jerking off all by yourself?” 

“i, i know how to pleasure a woman– i know how to pleasure you, i can pleasure you.” jake is determined as his fingers continue to rub your clit faster. you briefly close your eyes, the water around your core turns you on more. 

“you should, because imagine how embarrassing it would be for heeseung to come out here and see me having to fake my moans because of you.” 

jake’s movements slow for a moment and you realize that you’ve found another way to play with him. a sly smirk spreads across your face, “didn’t realize that anyone could walk out her and find you with your fingers against my pussy?” 

“n-no,” jake whimpers out, his eyes darting from your face to the backdoor. 

you laugh at his worry, “relax,” you tell him seriously, “they can’t see what we are doing under the water– it’s too dark.” 

he nods, and picks up the pace of his fingers against your clit. 

you let out a moan, “that’s it, you’re doing better than i thought, jakey.” you glance down at where his hand is curving against your body. 

because truthfully, he was making you feel good. he was alternating between small circles and moving your clit side to side. the friction from your bathing suit rubbing against your clit made you squirm in the water. 

you reach up, deciding to reward jake, and slowly pull the straps of your bathing suit top down, letting the fabric fall away to reveal your breasts. jake’s gaze flicks to them, and your breath quickens. he’s looking at your breasts like they are the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“you want to suck on these, don’t you?” you ask, running your fingers over your nipples, now hard from the cool water and his gaze. “beg me, and maybe i’ll let you.” 

without missing a beat, “please, y/n, let me pleasure you. i want to taste you so bad.” 

you smirk, satisfied with his answer, “good enough, let’s see what your mouth can do.” 

you guide his head towards you, and he takes a nipple into your mouth, sucking gently at first, then with more fervour as you moan quietly. your hands tangle in his long hair, holding him close to you. 

“t-that’s it, that’s good.” your voice betrays you as you speak. you can’t forget who’s in control here. 

jake’s tongue flicks and teases, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. you pull his closer, his fingers on your clit don’t stop. you start to grind your hips against his hand, your breathing becoming ragged as jake brings you closer to the edge. 

"oh, fuck, i'm getting close," you whisper, my voice hoarse with desire. “i want to cum all over those pathetic little fingers of yours."

jake’s tongue works faster, knowing that your orgasm is close and with a final grind of your hips, you cum. your body shakes with pleasure as you let your head rest in jake’s neck to muffle your moans. he holds you firmly against himself, letting you ride out your orgasm. 

finally, you pull away from him, panting and your eyes mix with satisfaction, “good boy,” you whisper, running your fingers through your hair, getting it out of your face. 

jake fights the urge to kiss you, knowing that it would be wrong (it’s all you want). so instead he asks, “are you okay?” 

you want to laugh but you’re too worn out from your orgasm, “yeah i am, i’m just hungry.” 

it’s jake’s turn to laugh, “you want to get out and get some dinner.” he offers you his hand to help pull you out of the pool. 

you take his hand, letting him help you out, “yeah, i’m starving.” 

you both climb out of the pool, the cool evening air hitting your damp skin. he hands you a towel, and you wrap it around yourself, shivering slightly.

as you head towards the house, you glance back at him. "you coming?"

he nods, following you inside. there’s a look in his eye that sends a shiver down your sprint. it’s a mix of infatuation and adoration and it scares you. he’s your best friend's little brother. what you two have going on is only a game, meant to be for fun. 

but then why do you have this fluttering feeling in your chest everytime you see him?

"i can't believe you're leaving me here," you complain, sprawled across joy's bed as she packs to leave for the cottage with her family.

joy rolls her eyes, stuffing clothes into her bag. "it's only for three days."

"yeah, but that feels like a month to me."

joy laughs, shaking her head. "when we get back, we'll continue our summer of fun. we only have a month left."

you groan, letting your head fall back against the pillows. "don't remind me."

you watch as joy zips up her bag, her movements brisk and efficient. she glances at you, a fond smile tugging at her lips. you know she's excited about the trip, but the thought of being without her for three whole days feels unbearable. you wonder what you’ll do without her… and jake.

"i should go home," you say, pushing yourself up from the bed. "it's getting late."

joy turns to you, pulling you into a tight hug. "text me if you need anything."

"of course," you reply, hugging her back just as tightly.

you pull away and head for the door, it's only three days, but it feels like an eternity. but, maybe it’ll give you some time to think about what’s happening between you and jake. 

you wake up to your phone buzzing on your nightstand. you groggily reach for it and squint at the screen, reading joy's message.

 joy : [yn, jake isn't feeling good at all so we are leaving him home alone for the weekend. would you mind checking up on him sometimes?? thank you so much ily]

you sigh and rub your eyes before typing back,

you : [yeah sure, have fun this weekend]

lying back down, you think about how awful it is for jake to not be feeling well during the summer. you hope he's okay, and a pang of concern hits you as you imagine him alone in the house.

later in the day, you decide to bring him some soup for dinner, knowing he probably won’t cook for himself. 

so when the sun starts to set again, you walk up to the familiar path on the door to joy’s house and knock softly, hoping jake is awake and feeling better. when there’s no answer you point, and take out your set of keys, unlocking the door with the spare key that had given you years ago. 

you walk inside the house, it’s eerily quiet without the usual chatter and noises of people being home. heading upstairs, you stop in front of jake’s bedroom door, which is closed. you knock softly, “jake? it’s y/n.”

here’s a pause before you hear his muffled voice, “just go home, y/n.”

you’re taken aback. “i have soup for you.”

“not hungry,” he mumbles.

you sigh, pushing the door open anyway. his room is dark, the curtains drawn tightly shut. you see him lying in his bed, blankets pulled up to his chin. you rush to his side, concern etched on your face. “jake, are you okay?” you start, reaching out to feel his forehead. “let me take your temperature. oh my god you must be really sick– have you taken any medicine?” 

he shrugs you off aggressively, sitting up abruptly. “i’m not sick!” he snaps.

you’re taken aback and confused. “but, joy said you aren’t feeling well…”

“well, i lied, okay? so you can leave. i’m fine,” jake says, his voice laced with frustration, but his eyes can’t stay on yours for long. 

you sit on jake's bed, refusing to leave when he’s like this, "why did you lie to them, jake? what's wrong?"

he sighs, covering his face with his hands. "i just needed to be alone for a while."

"what's happened, jake?"

"nothing happened, y/n."

silence falls between you, the room feeling heavy with unspoken words. you watch him, his shoulders tense, his face hidden. you both sit there, processing the weight of the moment.

finally, you break the silence. "is it about me? us?"

jake looks up at you, his eyes filled with something that tells you you’re right. 

"well, what is it? i'm here now, let's talk."

jake sighs but sits up straight, trying his best to look at you. "it's just, i don't understand what this is. i mean, why me?"

"what do you mean why you?"

"because there's so many other better guys that you could get, l-like heeseung."

you tilt your head, confused. "why would i like heeseung?"

"because he's like a real man, one that i'm not. one that could please you a-and fill you up." his words echo the ones you speak when you fool around with each other, and your heart aches knowing that he’s been taking your words to heart. that he’s locked himself away in his bedroom for the weekend because of you. 

you smile and explain yourself, "jake, i don't like guys like heeseung. my university is filled with guys like heeseung. my attraction is to guys like you, kind, sweet ones that have no idea they're hot. if i liked heeseung, i would be with him and not you, right?"

he shrugs, "i guess."

"i think you're insanely hot, jake, you know that, right?"

jake looks at you finally, shocked. "you think i'm hot?"

you giggle, "of course, that's why i'm doing this thing with you. why’d you think i was doing this with you if you didn't think i was attracted to you?"

he shrugs, "because i'm like the only one around really in this small town."

"jake, i am attracted to you, and only you."

jake smiles, "i'm attracted to you too, y/n– you know i think you're beautiful."

it's your turn to blush now but you sigh, “the things i say to you when we fool around aren’t true. it only makes this, foreplay thing, fun, right?” you feel the need to explain yourself, “you like what we do together, right?” and jake nods immediately and it makes you want to giggle, but instead you reach your hand out, your thumb rubbing against his warm cheek. it’s cute how he instantly melts into your touch. he looks so pretty against your hand. 

you can’t help but lean in close to him, leaving only inches between both of your faces from connecting, “you know, jake,” you whisper to him, “if you want something, all you have to do is ask.” you see confusion cross his eyes as he takes in your words, “just ask, and if i say no, then we can do something else, no harm done, right?” jake nods slowly as he analyses the meaning of your words, “just ask.” 

jake swallows roughly, fighting his inner urge to look away from you– but he keeps his eyes on yours when he speak, “can i kiss you?” 

you smile at his simple request. how could you think he’d ask something dirty of you (though you would’ve said yes to anything to him), when the jake you know has always been so sweet. 

you don’t answer him but instead lean in so your lips meet his. they’re soft and warm. and the kiss is sweet and romantic. your heart begins to palpitate, and it scares you. you've never felt like this when you've kissed someone before. the sensation is new, and thrilling and slightly overwhelming. 

you pull away first, your breath slightly unsteady. you look at jake, whose eyes take a while to flutter open again, clearly so entranced by your kiss. his gaze is filled with wonder and a hint of disbelief, as if he's trying to process the reality of what just happened.

“i told you, just ask.” you smile at him, your voice as sweet as him. 

jake gulps, and you can tell he wants to speak again, and you wait until he organizes in his head about how he wants to say it. he looks at you again, his eyes looking directly into yours, “can i eat you out? i want to. i want to know what you taste like.” 

your eyes widen at his request, a shiver runs through your body. the side of him that you’ve been craving to see, a glimpse of the confident, assertive man that you know he is when you’re not around. he’s finally taking control, being dominant, and you don’t stop him. 

without further prompting, jake moves toward, getting on his knees on his floor as you sit on his bed. he kneels between your legs, his hands gently pushing your thighs apart. his hands run up your thighs, “wanna make you feel good, y/n.” jake says to you, his voice unwavering. 

“then do it,” you tell him. 

his fingers hook inside your shorts, pulling them down in one swift movement, leaving your core bare before him. you feel exposed to him as he lets his eyes scan your pussy. he lets out a groan once you’re bare before him. 

his tongue darts out, teasingly light as it flicks against your inner thigh. you inhale sharply at the sensation, goosebumps erupting across your skin. he takes his time, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin of your legs, inching ever closer to your center. he’s teasing is so experienced. 

finally, his mouth reaches your core, and he wastes no time in tasting you. his tongue delves into your folds, lapping at your juices greedily. moans escape your lips as his talented tongue teases your clit, circling and flicking it with just the right amount of pressure.

"fuck, you taste so sweet," he murmurs between licks, his breath hot against your soaked lips. "i could eat you out forever."

your hands tangle in his hair, guiding him closer, encouraging him to continue, “would you like that, jakey? being in between my legs forever?” you tease him, wanting to see how far he would push back into the whole dominant thing. you pant, arching your back as he sucks your clit into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he pulls and tugs at the sensitive bud. it makes you cry out. 

“fuck yes, could be here all the time,” jake mutters out against your now soaked pussy. “do you like my mouth on you, y/n? like the way my tongue fucks you?” 

you feel a wave of arousal wash through you and head straight to your core at his words. you’ve never seen this side of him before. and you’re already enjoying it so much. 

"yes...feels so good," you manage to utter, “i love your mouth on my pussy so much. i had no idea you were this good at it.”

jake moans in response, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. he adds a finger, then two, thrusting them into your tight hole as he continues to work your clit with his tongue. you buck your hips, riding his face as waves of pleasure build within you.

"oh fuck, I'm getting close," you warn him, your body trembling on the edge. "don't stop, jake! please!" the use of his full name makes him eat you out faster and harder. 

He grunts in response, holding you firmly in place as he eats you furiously. and then, with one final swirl of his tongue and a hard suck on your clit, you explode around his mouth. your thighs tightening around his head. "hh god, jake!" you scream, your pussy clenching and pulsing as you ride out a powerful orgasm.

jake laps at your juices, reveling in the taste of your release. he continues to lick and kiss your sensitive flesh as the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through your body.

"that was...incredible," you breathe, before he leans up and kisses you, without even needing to ask– it turns you on more. you can taste yourself on his lips, a wicked reminder of the pleasure he just gave you.

“i’m glad you liked it, baby,” his pet name for you makes your legs squirm, “but i really want to know what your mouth feels like wrapped around my cock.” 

you smirk up at him, loving this side of him. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss that is rougher and sloppier than the other ones. 

you pull away first, a thin string of saliva connecting your mouths before it snaps. his breath comes in sharp gasps and you know he's eager for more. with a slow, deliberate movement, you reach for the button of his jeans, popping it open before tugging down the zipper. his hips help you ease his pants and boxers over them, freeing his hard cock.

"fuck, yes," jake breathes, his eyes fixed on your face as you take him in your hands. his length is impressive, thick and veiny, the head slick with pre-cum. you give it a teasing squeeze, enjoying the way he bucks slightly into your grip.

"you like this, baby?" you coo, stroking him slowly, teasingly. "you like the idea of my mouth on you?" without waiting for an answer, you lean forward and swipe your tongue across the tip, tasting the small drop that beads there. "mmm, delicious," you hum, taking him deeper into your mouth, sucking gently.

jake's hands thread into your hair, guiding but not forcing. "fuck, baby, that feels so good. I've fantasized about this for so long. your pretty mouth wrapped around me, sucking me dry." His voice is hoarse with desire, his hips twitching as he tries to suppress the urge to thrust into your hot, wet mouth.

you hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, your lips gliding over sensitive flesh. One hand cups his heavy balls, massaging gently, your thumb brushing the sensitive skin behind them. "You like that, Jake? Want more?" You hum against him, vibing your question straight to his groin.

he whimpers, his grip tightening in your hair. "yes, yes, don't stop. feels too good to stop." he bucks his hips, fucking your face gently, moaning as your tongue teases and flicks. "you're so good at this, baby. knew you'd be amazing." his words are punctuated by sharp intakes of breath as your tongue swirls and dances.

“hm, you’re such a desperate boy.” 

jake scoffs as he looks down at you, suddenly roughly grabbing your hair for you to look at him, “open your mouth wider, i’m gonna fuck your mouth.” he understands the game you want to play, understands that you want to see how dominant he can get. he knows you want to be forced into submission. 

you have to hold back your whimper at his words as they make your pussy clamp around nothing. 

you do as he says, opening your mouth wider for him to slide his entire cock inside of your mouth, reaching the back of your throat. 

“fuck,” a guttural sound leaves his mouth once you enclose your lips around his cock, your throat enwrapping his cock. he tangles a hand into your hair, slowly guiding his cock back out of you. “i wanna hear you gag on me, baby.” 

you moan around his cock, his words adding to the fire that’s lit in your abdomen. 

jake’s hips move gently at first, sliding in and out of your mouth, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat every time. “that’s it baby,” he encourages, his voice harsh as he looks down at you, “take it nice and deep. that’s what i want.”

As his rhythm increases, you sense his building orgasm, and you hum, the vibration making his eyes roll back. his once quiet bedroom was filled with his grunts and curses and the wet sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of your mouth. 

you tap on his thigh and he releases your hair, letting your body lax on the bed and letting you catch your breath. you pull away, a stand of saliva connects your lips to his cock. 

“want you to cum in my pussy, jakey.” 

instantly, you can feel the atmosphere in jake’s room change. he returns to his awkward, shy self and he can’t look at you anymore. you partly wonder if he doesn’t want to have sex with you. 

“i mean, we don’t have to have sex if you don’t wan-” you start to give him an out. 

“- i want to!” jake cuts you off with a rush, and he immediately looks embarrassed, “i mean, i’d like to, if you want to.” 

you smile at him, “are you sure?” 

“yes, it’s just…” jake trails off again, having to gain the courage to say, “i’m a virgin.” 

your jaw unconsciously drops. you’re surprised to hear his confession. you thought he was experienced given how attractive he is. but his admission only makes him more desirable to you. 

"don't worry, jake. we can take it slow," you assure him, reaching out to stroke his cheek. "i really want this, and I want you."

he nods, his eyes nervous but full of desire. you can sense his eagerness, and it makes your pussy throb with anticipation. slowly, you grab the hem of your shirt and pull it off of your head, leaving yourself completely bare to his eyes. 

jake’s eyes widen as he takes in your body. you watch the brown orbs circle your entire core, watching as they move up and down your curves. it makes you giggle. 

“are you gonna get undressed too, jakey? or just me?” 

“n-no, i will,” jake stutters and takes off his own shirt. it reveals his abs that you’ve so desperately wanted to touch and lick the other week in the pool. so now that you’re alone, and you’ve given up some of your vulnerability to him, you reach out and trace the hardlines of his abs. his skin is warm and his chest is practically panting from being so turned on. 

“you’re really so beautiful, jakey.” 

you hear him gulp as he watches you touch him. it turns you on so much to see how quickly he can go from being in control, to being wrapped around your finger again. he’s so versatile that it makes your pussy throb with all the ideas you can do with him. 

you’re watching his adam's apple bob as he swallows, his eyes following your every movement. you push him down onto his bed so his head is on his pillow. you straddle his thighs, feeling the hardness of his dick pressed against your stomach. his hands rest tentatively on his sides, as if he's not sure whether to touch you or not. you take his hands in yours and place them firmly on your body, encouraging him to hold you.

"i want you to feel every inch of me," you whisper, grinding your hips against him. his dick slides against your clit, making you gasp at the pleasure shooting through your body.

"you feel so good," he murmurs, his voice hoarse with need.

you smile, feeling powerful and desired. you lean down, pressing your breasts against his chest as you capture his lips in a passionate kiss. his hands move eagerly over your body now, exploring your curves. you moan into his mouth, your tongue dancing with his.

breaking the kiss, you sit up straight, taking his hands and placing them on your breasts. "touch me, jakey," you encourage him, guiding his fingers to pinch and roll your sensitive nipples. "that's it… fuck. you know how sensitive my nipples are.” 

jake’s eyes are fixed on your breasts as he watches his fingers play with your nipples, making them harden even more. you arch your back, offering yourself to him, and his breath quickens as he takes in the sight.

"i want you inside me," you whisper, positioning yourself above his throbbing cock. you hover just above him, rubbing your swollen clit against the tip of his dick, making him groan and buck his hips instinctively.

"not yet," you tease, denying him entry. "i want to feel you fill me up first."

he nods, biting his lip as he tries to control his urge to thrust into you. you smile at his eagerness, loving how responsive he is to your slightest touch and instruction.

slowly, you lower yourself onto his shaft, engulfing his thick length inside your tight, wet pussy. you moan loudly as you sink down, feeling him stretch you deliciously. "oh fuck, jake... you feel bigger than i imagined," you pant, throwing your head back in pleasure. jake groans out as he fills you up. the way his name rolls off your tongue makes his cock twitch inside of you. 

jakee watches, mesmerized, as your body rises and falls, his dick sliding in and out of your slick core. "you look so beautiful riding me," he breathes, his hands gripping your hips as if he wants to pull you even closer.

you quicken your pace, riding him with abandon. your breasts bounce with each thrust, your nipples rubbing against his chest. "does my tight pussy feel good around your cock, jakey?" you ask, grinding your hips in circles.

"so good... so fucking good," he grunts, his eyes rolling back slightly as he loses himself in the sensations. "i've fantasized about this... about you..."

hearing his admission sends a thrill through your body. you lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as you pound your pussy onto his cock, driving him deeper with each thrust. "you like my pussy, don't you?"

"fuck yes... it's so wet and hot... feels like heaven," he moans, his fingers digging into your hips as if he wants to leave marks. he gulps and you can tell he’s thinking about saying something, your hips enticing him to say it, “you like my cock? the way it stretches you? fills you? i bet, ugh, you can feel how hard it is inside of you.” 

“mhm,” you whimper out to him, loving this side of him, loving when it comes out and makes your pussy squeeze around his cock tighter. 

you sit up straight, your hands reaching behind to grip his thighs as you bounce on his lap. "tell me if you're close, jake. i want you to cum inside me."

he nods vigorously, his eyes locked on where your bodies are joined. "i'm close... so close..." he observes how wet your inner thighs are as you bounce up and down on him. 

You increase your speed, your pussy juices coating his shaft as you slide up and down so quickly, “cum for me jake, fill my pussy with your hot cum.” 

jake grunts out, moaning your name, he arches his back, his body tensing as he releases his load deep inside of you. you feel his cock twitching with each spurt, sending ripples of pleasure through your own body. "that's it, baby... fill me up," you encourage him, continuing to ride him through his orgasm. your own orgasm following his. the twitching of his cock releasing his sperm makes your pussy clamp down, your body shakes and your hands grip onto his chest harder as the orgasm washes through you. 

finally, he collapses back against the bed, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. you sit atop him, feeling his cum leaking out of your well-fucked pussy. you lean down, kissing him softly. "that was incredible," you murmured against his lips. 

he smiles, a mix of satisfaction and awe on his face. "you have no idea how long i've wanted that..."

you trail kisses along his jawline, a sense of power coursing through you. "i think i do,"

you slowly get off of jake and lay beside him, your chest starting to slow it’s movement as you catch your breath. you’re suddenly aware of the cooling sweat on your skin and the sticky mess between your thighs. the post-nut haze starts to lift as you register the reality of what just happened. you scan the room for your clothes, hoping to dress quickly and slip away. but jake is quicker than you. 

jake stands up and goes to the bathroom, wetting a cloth and coming back to your position in bed. he sits beside you, and looks you in the eye for permission to clean you. you nod silently, and let him open your legs. he gently wipes the saliva and cum off of you. the feeling is intense as he takes care of you. 

he presses a soft kiss onto your knee cap and you feel like your heart is gonna explode in your chest from sheer panic. this is all too vulnerable, all too intimate to what you are used to. 

when jake goes back to the bathroom to clean himself, you hurry and dress again. you beeline straight to the front door of the house– not looking at any family pictures on the wall, not being able to bear to see your best friend's face right now. 

padding softly towards the door, you stop to look back one last time. it was just sex, you tell yourself. and yet, you can't shake the feeling that something has shifted between you and Jake. 

just as you begin to pull the door open, you hear his voice call out, soft but insistent, “wait y/n!” your heart leaps into your throat and you turn, seeing jake standing there, fully clothed now. “i have to tell you something.” 

your heart feels like a lump in your throat as you swallow roughly, “what is it?” 

he takes a deep breath, his expression vulnerable. "i like you, y/n. i've always liked you since we were kids. i've just never said anything because i've been too shy and– and insecure. you deserve someone better than me."

your heart aches at his words. "jake, no. you're the best person i know. you don't deserve someone as awful as me." it breaks your heart to see him so insecure, especially around you. you've noticed how he is different when you aren't there, how he's more outgoing and confident.

he shakes his head, his eyes filled with earnestness. "no, y/n, that's not true. you're amazing, and i wish you could see that. i've always been afraid to tell you how i feel because i didn't think i was good enough for you."

"but jake, you are good enough. you're more than good enough." you squeeze his hand, trying to convey just how much you mean it. "i've been hurt before. that's why i don't get into relationships. i'm scared to be vulnerable, to let someone in."

"i understand," he murmurs, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "but i’ll be here for you, whenever you need. i want to be with you.”

you swallow, "but what about joy?"

he hesitates, then says, "i know it could be complicated, but we can figure it out together."

you nod, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety. "i like you too, jake. more than i realized. but i'm scared." 

jake smiles softly at you and wraps his arms around you. you let yourself melt into his arms, taking in his scent and warmth. you feel safe for the first time in your life. feeling safe and being held is all you’ve ever wanted. you didn’t want to be the one in control all of the time. jake allows your walls to be down– allows you to be vulnerable and safe at the same time.

"i'm scared too," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "but i think we can make this work if we try."

you smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "i hope so."

you leave his room, your heart lighter but an anxiety settling upon you. you hope no one gets hurt in this. you’ve been hurt too many times and you would hate to see the ones you care most about being hurt. 

 as you walk down the stairs, you can't help but feel a sense of relief. maybe, just maybe, you could be happy.

you and jake have been seeing each other for a few weeks now, careful to keep things secret. it's not that you don't want anyone to know, but you're not sure how joy will react. she's your best friend, and jake is her little brother. the dynamic is complicated, to say the least. 

one evening, joy is hosting a small get-together at her place. a few friends from high school, some new ones from college, and, of course, jake and you. you and jake have gotten good at sneaking glances, sharing secret smiles, and brushing against each other in passing without anyone noticing.

but tonight, something feels different. the tension between you and jake is palpable, and you catch joy watching you both a few times with a curious look in her eyes. you try to play it cool, but it's hard when all you want is to be close to him.

at some point, jake and you meet in the hallway, away from everyone’s prying eyes. jake takes this opportunity to slip a hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. you smile at him, your heart fluttering at the simple touch. everything he seemed to do made your heart ache more for him. 

"what's going on here?"

the voice makes you rip your hands away from each other. but when you turn and see your best friend, so visibly angry and confused, you know it’s too late. 

you and jake freeze, exchanging a quick, nervous glance. you clear your throat, trying to come up with an explanation, but nothing comes to mind.

"uh, nothing," you stammer, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

joy narrows her eyes at you, then at jake. "nothing, huh? because it sure looked like something."

jake sighs, realizing there's no point in hiding it anymore. "joy, we need to talk."

joy raises an eyebrow. "yeah, i think we do." she crosses her arms over his chest, her eyes glaring at you both of you. 

jake takes a deep breath and looks at his sister, "joy, y/n and i have been seeing each other," he says, his voice steady but nervous.

joy's eyes widen even more. "what? since when?"

"a few weeks now," you admit, feeling the need to finally be honest.

joy looks between the two of you, her expression a mix of surprise, anger and confusion. "why didn't you tell me?"

"because we didn't know how you'd react," jake explains. "you're my sister, and y/n is your best friend. we didn't want to make things weird."

joy stands in her place, her gaze flickering between the two of you, “i can't even look at you right now, y/n. i have to go."

panic surges through you as joy turns to leave. "joy, no please, we can talk about this." you reach out and grab her wrist, desperation in your voice.

she snatches her wrist away, glaring at you. "talk about what? that you’ve been lying to me for weeks? i thought we told each other everything, y/n. this is too much."

without another word, joy storms off, heading back to her room and leaving her party and guests behind. the music and laughter feel distant and hollow as you stand there, guilt and regret washing over you.

you glance at jake, his expression mirroring your own feelings of hurt and regret. you both know the pain you've caused joy. the pain you’ve caused the only person who has stood by you your entire life. 

but jake grabs your hand again, comforting you. you know that you can’t leave this relationship with jake behind. you need to find a way for you to be truly happy with both siblings in your life.

the next day, you find yourself knocking on joy’s bedroom door. the air still heavy with unresolved tension as she opens the door to see you. she groans and walks towards her bed, leaving the door open for you to enter. 

you sit across from joy on her bed, her expression softening as she takes a deep breath.

"i'm sorry for walking away like that," she begins, her voice quiet but sincere. "i've had some time to think, and i realize now that i wasn't upset about you and jake dating. i was upset because you kept it a secret from me. our whole friendship relies on knowing everything about each other."

you nod, feeling the weight of her words. "i'm sorry too, joy. i've been a bad friend. i didn't want to hurt you, but i didn't even know my own feelings towards jake. everything happened so fast, and i was scared."

joy reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "i understand. i just felt left out and betrayed, but i get it now. we all make mistakes,” she nods understandingly. 

"i promise i won't keep anything from you again," you say, your voice filled with determination. "you're my best friend, and i don't want to lose that."

joy smiles, a genuine warmth returning to her eyes. "i forgive you, y/n. let’s move past this, okay?” she opens her arms up, letting you wrap your own arms around her. the hug is tight and loving, like usual. 

as you both pull away, you notice jake standing at the door, a sheepish look on his face.

"i overheard your conversation," he admits, stepping into the room. "i'm really sorry too, joy. i never wanted to come between you two or cause any problems."

joy looks at her brother, then back at you, and smiles. "it's all good, jake. just promise me you'll take care of each other and be honest with me from now on."

"we promise," you both say in unison, causing joy to laugh.

"well, at least we will be sister-in-laws someday," she jokes, making you all laugh.

the thought of marriage might be far too soon, but as you stand there with your best friend and jake, the idea doesn't seem so far-fetched. the three of you hug on her bed. 

you know that maybe someday your best friend would become your sister-in-law, and her little brother would become your husband. for now, you're happy, and that's all that matters.

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

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[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

happy hotwifing ― p.js & p.sh

When a single man moves in next door to you and your husband, it wasn’t difficult for either of you to take interest in what he could offer to the dynamic of your lives together. Unfortunately, the new and interesting man appears to be afraid to admit that he’s curious as to what happens behind your very unlocked front door.  or the one where your husband, jongseong, fucks you in front of the window to help the neighbor get off and then said neighbor shows up at the door a week later. 

minors dni! | reblog to give husband and neighbor a boner

WORDCOUNT― 18.9k

PAIRING― husband jongseong x afab reader x voyeur sunghoon 

CONTENT― husband!jay, bachelor sunghoon, hotwifing/ open marriage, exhibitionism, voyeurism, second hand embarrassment, threesome, smut. 

WARNINGS― mentions of sunghoon’s ex cheating on him, also jongseong is assumed to be bisexual and/or he is attracted to sunghoon too but there isn’t any dude on dude stuff. jongseong does put his fingers in sunghoon’s mouth tho, deal with it. 

NOTE― i wrote this originally on ncteez. i am the same person lol 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― exhibitionism, voyeurism, big dick jay, HUGE dick sunghoon, top/dom(ish) jay, service top/shy/bottom(ish) sunghoon, embarrassment kink???, mentions of porn, masturbation, phone sex kind of?? idk he calls sunghoon so he can listen to the shit he’s seeing, alcohol consumption, finger fucking, clit stimulation, unprotected sex, tit fondling, raw grinding,  oral (f & m receiving), deepthroating/facefucking, making out, dirty talk, pussy drunk men, cock drunk reader, double vaginal penetration, riding, missionary, finger sucking, cum stuffing, desperate desperate people!!! 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon ran from a lot of things. He ran from his ex fiancée when she cheated, he ran from new opportunities out of fear of losing what he already had, ran from a cop once as a teenager for streaking near the old folk’s home. Running wasn’t exactly something he’s fond of but, more often than not it’s what his heart tells him to do.

As stated, the last time he ran away was when his fiancée was found in the bed he paid for with her co-worker. That’s when his need to run came in the most handy, having no qualms with giving her the apartment and everything in it. His job allowed him to leave without much of a financial hit, her’s wouldn’t. 

The ring he bought stayed on her finger for some reason, the home he made became one she shared with any man that wasn’t him. It’s okay though, because to him? She can have it. He’s much more comfortable starting over than she would be. So, that’s what he does. 

He has money, he has a good job, and now he has a lovely house of his own on a quaint little street on the other side of town. Far far away from her. 

Starting over is equally as exhausting as it is exciting but Sunghoon keeps his chin up throughout the process. Making an empty house his new home, working his job as if his entire intimate life didn’t just fall apart, and of course, preparing himself to mingle with the new neighbors. 

A month after moving, Sunghoon had made platter after platter of food for neighbors as his greeting in an attempt to make friends. Many accepted and returned his dishes washed and unscratched. All are friendly to him but the majority of people in this neighborhood are middle aged and a bit out of his league. There is one pair of neighbors who appear more around his age though, and interested in actual friendship with him. The pair who brought his dishes back full of their own offer of a decent dinner for him to eat on his own time. 

Despite the majority of people living on this street being polite and fond of him as a newcomer, this specific couple appears to be the only ones without an entire family. Just like Sunghoon. No children, free time to go out on the weekends, no minivans or babysitters coming every day during working hours. Naturally, he internally clings to the idea of them being his new friends, because his old group of friends consisted of his ex fiancée and her tight-knit group of pompous women and their boy toys. 

Jongseong is the husband’s name, and briefly he met you alongside him a few times. He assumes you must have your own interests to cater to, because each time he finds himself on his own front porch with Jongseong talking and joking around, you rarely come with him. Save for the one or two times you did stay to hang out for a couple of hours.

After a few months, he’s managed to sprout friendship with the man next door who has a pretty wife with a ring on her finger. Sunghoon tries not to internalize that he was supposed to be living the way Jongseong is. Maybe he’s a bit jealous of the happiness in Jongseong’s eyes when he talks about you, or maybe it makes him feel like he either wasn’t good enough as a partner, or his ex simply just didn’t love him anymore. 

Still, even with the slight jealousy, Sunghoon is comfortable around him. He’s never clicked with another man so quickly in terms of friendship, at least not without several shots of hard liquor to get himself comfortable. It’s definitely different with his neighbor. 

The guy is open, kind, and occasionally pretty funny. He comes over a few nights a week with the claim of “man-time”. It’s been at least fifteen times since he officially met Jongseong and comfort comes alongside him when he sits on this porch and they fuck around about menial things. Hanging out with him is arguably like a breath of fresh air. 

Jongseong though, he takes note of a lot of things that Sunghoon doesn’t quite seem to notice himself. One, any time he mentions his wife, Sunghoon’s eyes falter a bit. Two, Sunghoon is clearly a single man and Jongseong can’t quite grasp why that is because he’s a handsome dude, with a level personality. Three, there are slight self-deprecating jokes coming from Sunghoon at least five times an hour and it’s starting to make him wonder. At first it can be funny, but after a while it kind of stops being a joke. 

So, here they are, joking and having a nice conversation on Sunghoon’s porch. It’s a Friday night and Jongseong assumes they’re close enough by this point to really talk. You’re in the back of his mind, making offers, smirking about the new neighbor, laying down the interest flat out after merely meeting with him a few times. If Sunghoon really is a single man, and if he’s as open minded as he seems, perhaps laying down some hints and an invite can help him out of this clear slump that he tries to pretend he’s not in. 

“What about you? Do you have someone in your life?” Jongseong asks after a solid twenty minutes of gushing about you. Internally knowing what he says about you is true, but also trying to sell the idea of how wonderful and sexy you are. He leans back as he studies Sunghoon, noting the way he stiffens at the question. 

Again, it’s clear that Sunghoon is a single man with the way he’s always in this house alone before and after work. On the weekends, he’s sitting on his porch waiting for Jongseong to come join him. Sometimes there’s a doubt though, because looking at him, anyone would believe he is taken. He is down to earth, funny, kind, handsome as hell. Maybe he does see people and Jongseong just never catches it. 

“Ah, no,” Sunghoon avoids eye contact, trying to laugh it off as he confirms Jongseong’s suspicions. He wants to talk about what happened though. He hasn’t been able to talk about it, and honestly, Jongseong seems like a trusted friend at this point. “I was with someone for six years, asked her to marry me, and then we broke it off. That’s why I’m here now.”

“Oh yeah? Starting over, huh?” Jongseong nods politely at him, figuring something like this may have happened. “Can I ask what happened?”

Sunghoon shrugs nonchalantly, looking at Jongseong with a carefree face and a smile.

“She wasn’t the most faithful, you know how it goes with those sorts of things, I guess.” 

Jongseong studies his face a bit more, seeing straight through that carefree attitude and noting the immense amount of hurt Sunghoon must feel. 

“I don’t, actually.” Jongseong starts, watching Sunghoon’s brow rise in confusion. 

“Oh, well isn’t that nice?” He responds with a defeated shrug, almost wanting to roll his eyes. “You might be the first man I’ve ever met who hasn’t dealt with infidelity at some point. Even just as a teenager.”

“On the contrary,” Jongseong says with a smirk, leaning towards Sunghoon as if he has a secret to tell. “We fuck other people all the time.”

Sunghoon stares at him as he processes those words. Unsure of it that means they both are cheating out of spite, or if they’re about to divorce or something. 

“Sometimes in the same bed.” 

Oh. 

“At the same time.”

Jongseong deadpan stares at Sunghoon, searching for a reaction to his words. There have been many times where he and his wife invite someone to their bedroom, and many more times where the person ended up so freaked out that they ghosted the entire situation. Perhaps out of fear that Jongseong doesn’t know what he’s doing with his wife. Many people can’t seem to fathom that possessiveness, jealousy, and competition aren’t part of the deal. 

You married Jongseong and he married you long after the two of you started doing this. The trial period was over before it even started. He loved watching you be pleasured, and you loved the way he looked at you as it happened. Of course, not all of the sex involves other people, but it never hurts the marriage when a third shows up. 

“Oh–” Sunghoon swallows around his dry throat, mind running in several directions at once. He’s not sure how to respond to that information. “That’s cool, I guess.”

Jongseong stays silent, smirking a bit at the way Sunghoon, so tall and broad, stutters to find the words to say. It’s not like he straight up invited him, not yet at least. 

“I couldn’t imagine doing that, considering I just left my fiancée for fucking someone else.” 

Jongseong nods both understandingly and apologetically. People do tend to mix up the two. Is it cheating when he watches another person fuck you? To some people, yeah but, monogamy is natural for many people. 

“I assume she didn’t tell you that she would be fucking someone else.” Jongseong shrugs, leaning back again. “I can imagine that even if she did tell you, you’d not have allowed it, right?”

Sunghoon nods. 

“It puts my stomach in knots to think of someone I love wanting to be with someone else.” 

“That’s fair,” Jongseong starts, glancing away and thinking of how to word what he wants to say. “What if someone else wanted you to fuck the person they love?”

Sunghoon freezes again, unsure of if he’s thinking too hard about that question, or not enough. 

“I’m sorry, what?” He asks defensively, looking his neighbor dead in the eye. 

“I’m not saying you have to take up this offer but, I mean, you’re a single guy. I’m a married guy, with a wife who is incredibly curious about you.” 

Sunghoon continues to process the words, still overthinking it. 

“Is this a joke?” He asks in a quieter voice, whispering as if the entire neighborhood can hear them. 

“Are you attracted to her?” Jongseong continues to press, wondering what it’ll take to get a simple yes or no out of him. He notes the way Sunghoon’s ear goes red, and can’t tell if it’s because of the offer or because he’s afraid to call another man’s wife attractive.

“Here, let me rephrase,” He starts over, leaning forward again. “My wife thinks you’re, in her own words, ‘beautiful.’ She asks about you every time I come home from hanging out here, and she’s starting to get persistent.”

Sunghoon, still at a loss for words, slowly nods. 

“She’s pretty, yeah.” He says, now leaning himself toward Jongseong and raising a brow in curiosity. 

“As a single man, are you looking for love or are you looking for fun?” Jongseong continues, prying answers out of him and smiling at the way it seems he was right in believing there is interest here.

“I just got out of a six year relationship, I’m not trying to do all of that again,” Sunghoon shakes his head in disappointment. “Not for now, at least.”

“So, do you want to fuck my wife?”

Silence. 

Jongseong pinches the bridge of his nose momentarily, seemingly frustrated.

“Look, does it help to know that I want to watch you fuck my wife?”

Louder silence. 

“Okay, you clearly need some time to think. Just, if you’re ever interested let me know. I can open the blinds if you want, like a sample or something.”

Jongseong can see the way his eyes glisten at that offer through his silence. The wavering interest igniting right then and there. Ah, a voyeur, what a perfect addition to this neighborhood of dry vanilla cake. It’s not strange at all to see a monogamous man watching his footing in this situation, but the offer to watch is an entirely different thing from an offer to join right off the bat. Especially since there needs to be boundaries set if he decides he does want to fuck you.

For instance, when did he last get tested? Considering he got duped by his ex, that’s important. Does he like it raw? Does he know the ass belongs to Jongseong only? Etcetera. 

“Can you say something? I’m starting to feel like I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“Ah, sorry. It’s just–” Sunghoon leans back with a sigh of relief at the general questioning being over and done with. “Yeah, I need to think about it.”

“Don’t think too hard,” Jongseong laughs. “It’s getting late so, if you need me I’ll be fucking my wife.”

Sunghoon watches him stand on his feet and follows the action. Feeling both closer to him and also in a rut of wondering if their entire friendship will rely on whether he wants to fuck his wife or not. Should he like, hug him goodbye or something?

He stands awkwardly as Jongseong studies him even more. 

“Just think about it, really. She loves being watched too, if you don’t want to be involved directly.” 

God, he can feel how red his ears and face have become, surely Jongseong knows by now that the interest outweighs the concerns. And as Jongseong turns to head down the steps, he calls out to him. 

“Let’s say I’m interested but unsure of how to go about it, what then?”

Jongseong turns to him and smiles, taking a few steps closer so that he doesn’t have to yell out to him. 

“It’s sex. If you know how to fuck, you fuck.“

“And if I’m not entirely ready to throw myself into your marital bed?” 

“There’s still a couch, and again–” He smirks. “Like I said, opening the curtains isn’t the most insane sexual practice.”

Sunghoon being the person looking through those curtains though…is it really not as insane as he’s thinking it is?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“So…?” You ask as soon as Jongseong comes through the door, clinging to him with doe-eyes and a smile. 

“He seems interested but,” Your husband slides off his shoes and heads straight for the couch to lay against it in a huff. “I don’t know. Just found out his ex cheated on him after like six years, I think the whole idea spooked him.”

“Ah, damn.” You look to the floor, and then make your way onto the couch with him. “What did you say?”

“I asked him if he wanted to fuck you.”

You narrow your eyes at him before rolling them with a frustrated sigh. 

“Why would you ask him straight up like that? I cannot believe you pride yourself in being the talker of our sex life. It’s no wonder we have trouble finding people to join.”

Jongseong looks at you with a fond smirk before shaking his head at you.

“Would you feel better if I told you that he admitted to thinking you’re pretty?”

You smile, warming up next to your husband and feeling entirely safe here. 

“What about if I told you that right before I came back home, he said he was interested and just didn’t know how to go about it?” 

A bigger smile forms on your face as you look up at him, devious eyes glistening in the warm lighting of your living room. 

“I offered that he can just watch instead. If he takes up that offer, it won't be long before he’s banging on our front door ready to show us a good time.”

You reach up to brush some of his fringe out of his face before releasing a dreamy sigh. 

“He’s so handsome. Like, even from here I can tell he must be packing. I hope you’re right.” You say as Jongseong rolls his eyes, knowing damn well that Sunghoon is your type and you’re probably never gonna shut up about him.  “Can’t believe someone cheated on that.” 

“Alright, alright.” He playfully complains, shoving you back against the couch and practically smothering you with his form as he flops down on you. “He hasn’t accepted yet, save those compliments for if he joins. He seems pretty shy, probably likes to be doted on.”

“Ooh, shy?”

“Oh yeah, for sure. He was actually stuttering when I made the offer, I don’t think he noticed how red his face got.”

You chuckle at the mental image of Sunghoon being shy. You only had to meet him a few times to grow interest in him, but on first glance you’d think he would be the dominant type. It’s a welcome change that your husband thinks he’s the opposite.

“Do you think If I joined you next time, he might be more inclined to pull it out or something?”

“Absolutely not. I can imagine he wouldn’t even come out of his house if he saw you on his porch after what I said to him.”

“God, he’s cute.”

Jongseong nods against you in agreement, finally pulling his weight from you and standing on his feet. 

“Yeah, it’ll be fun to see where this leads. Now if you’ll just follow me to the bedroom, I also told him I’d be fucking you tonight so I’d like to make good on my promise.” 

Fortunately for you, Jongseong never makes a promise that he can’t keep.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

For days Sunghoon contemplates the things his neighbor said. Over the short time he’s known him, he clicked into friendship so easily and felt like he could trust him. Apparently, Jongseong felt the same way because spilling all of those intimate details right there during a regular hang out was a bit out of the blue. Then again, he can’t imagine a married man would simply offer for anyone to fuck his wife, so the pros definitely outweigh the cons of this situation.

If it was a joke, he thinks he would know by now. All he’s gotten from Jongseong since then is pleasant conversation as if the offer was never made to begin with. Which somehow makes it worse because he wants to talk about it. He wants more clarity. 

God, since then, he’s had nothing but intrusive thoughts of fantasies he’s never considered before. He’s so horny out of his mind on a daily basis thinking about it, especially now that he doesn’t have his ex fiancée around. Porn has never been so loved by him until now. Even when he was a teenager, he never jerked off this much just to calm his thoughts. 

The various types of porn he’s viewed within the past five days is insane. The post-nut guilt hit him pretty hard at first, sending him into both a sex crazed and sex starved stupor but, the interest only heightened from there as he would eventually start searching up porn related to the exact thing he’s been offered. 

On the sixth night of contemplation, he peeks through his blinds at the house next door and notes the silence. He knows some wild things must happen in that bedroom and he wants to know what it is so badly. Naturally, he starts searching up some keywords without really knowing what any of it entails. 

He watches cuckold video after cuckold video, feeling his opinions of fucking another man’s wife validated by the amount of people who seem to love it the way he wants to. Then, exhibitionism comes into play. He watches at least ten videos involving said kink, his cock growing so pathetically hard at the fact that this could be a reality if he wants. Then, voyeurism.

Good lord, that’s him. All of these videos, at least in the ten more he watches, he can easily put himself in the shoes of watching. Which only makes it more arousing when he lands on a video that is clearly scripted, but entirely too similar to what his kind neighbors offered. 

There, a man watches through his window, palming himself as a woman gets absolutely railed against her own window. The camera pans to and from both ends of the scenario, for five minutes he watches the woman get fucked from the man’s window view, and then for another five minutes, he watches the man pleasure himself from her view as she moans and whimpers for him. 

He watches intently, weeping cock twitching each time he closes his eyes and realizes that if he wanted it, that could be him. He could be the stranger in a window watching his neighbors get eachother off, except Sunghoon isn’t a stranger. 

He doesn’t even need to watch the video to imagine now. Thousands upon thousands of videos comfort him in the idea that yeah, maybe involving himself in a marriage that isn’t his own is okay. Jongseong is a handsome guy, and pretty fit himself. Then there’s you, such a pretty fucking woman, walking around like you don’t like to get fucked by multiple people as your husband watches.

Goddamn, if there’s any couple he’d want to be involved with, it would be you and your husband. 

Okay, maybe he’s interested and maybe that interest plays out the next day. Or rather, the next evening. Another Friday night, when Jongseong usually comes over to hang out except this time Sunghoon doesn’t respond to his texts until much later. Out of both nervousness and his own mind games hyping himself up. 

If he’s gonna watch, he doesn’t want Jongseong to see him a mere hour or two before it happens, at least. 

Now though, ten at night, he hyped up his cock the same way he hyped up his mentality. When he’s horny, it’s much easier for him to work up the courage to lay down his own hints, to show his own interest, and to play along with things he’s never delved into. 

Sunghoon: Hey um 

Jongseong: here I was thinking you were ignoring me or something

Sunghoon: can i ask about something?

Hell yeah he can. 

Jongseong: oh? you finally warmed up to the idea? 

Sunghoon: i’m just curious. 

Jongseong peeps out his own window to see Sunghoon’s blinds very quickly close.

Jongseong: why’d you back away from the window? 

Sunghoon: i don’t know, i feel like a weirdo

Jongseong: i invited you to watch me fuck my wife, Sunghoon. 

No response.

There’s a few moments of silence on Jongseong’s end as he turns to you and flicks his head to the window. 

“I’m ninety percent sure he wants me to fuck you in front of that window right now.” 

“Oh?” You perk up in interest, hopping up from the bed and running over to the window beside your husband and peeking out. “Open them up then. If he watches, he watches.”

Jongseong nods, looking down at the silence of his text messages and smirking. You’re right, if Sunghoon wants to watch, he will. 

And so, as you go make yourself up in the bathroom for a good first impression, Jongseong is quick to work himself up now too. Given, the two of you were about to call it a night and sleep since the day was quite exhausting, this is a welcome change of events. After all, Jongseong knows how you act when you’re both horny and exhausted. He’s sure Sunghoon will love it if he works up the courage to just look.

After a few minutes more of silence from Sunghoon’s message box, you make your way back into the room and stare at the window. 

“Is his bedroom lined up with ours?” You ask, quirking a brow. 

“I assume so, yeah.” Jongseong shrugs, still palming against himself lazily to get ready to put on a show.

“Oh, this could be really fun.” You say, now moving toward the window and pulling at the curtains to move them completely from Sunghoon’s presumed view. 

Jongseong follows suit, raising the blinds so fast that the sound is almost laughable.

“Should I go ahead and take off my clothes, or?” You ask now, noting the way Sunghoon’s blinds are still very much closed. 

“Put this on, tie it loosely and let it fall open for him.” Jongseong smiles, handing you the silk robe you only ever wear when a third is joining you. 

“Oooh, perfect.” You laugh with a wiggle of your brows, stepping away from the window to completely undress and put on the robe. 

Jongseong finally texts Sunghoon again when you get yourself situated, right there in the view of his dark and silent home. 

Jongseong: blinds are open.

Thank god Sunghoon has read receipts on, because right as Jongseong goes to lock his phone and play with you, he notes that it’s been read and instantly glues himself against your back. 

“He knows. Keep your eyes at his window, yeah baby?” Jongseong whispers before snaking an arm around you and slipping it under your robe to instantly rub against your clit. 

You do exactly as he says, gluing your eyes to the window directly across from you as you slightly spread your legs and grip the windowsill. Jongseong is good at this, always great with putting on a show too. You know for a fact that even if Sunghoon doesn’t watch, you’re going to be seeing stars whenever your husband deems it appropriate. 

“You think he’s gonna look?” You ask curiously with a sigh, trying not to immediately lose yourself to the feeling of his fingers against your clit, or the hand he’s currently slipping through your robe to grope and squeeze your tits. 

“We can only hope, until then, just enjoy it.” Jongseong smiles against your neck, kissing the back of it before resting his chin on your shoulder, trying to work you up to where you start to slowly lose your sanity like you always do. 

It works out perfectly for him, knowing that whether Sunghoon watches or not, he’s going to make damn sure you’re taken care of. His fingers expertly slide up and down your delicate folds, and his other hand pinches and rolls your nipple to the point that it’s swollen and sensitive. His kisses against your neck become peppered and gentle as he feels your legs start to shake a bit each time his fingers reach your clit again. 

You try to turn your head to look at him, but he laughs. 

“No, eyes on the window.” He says in a raspy whisper, pressing his barely clothed cock against your ass. Thankfully, he’s adjusted himself to where just the tip pokes out of his boxers and feeling the coolness of the silk robe offer a gentle and soft sensation, it satiates his needs for now. “Feels good even like this, yeah?” He asks, sliding his fingers down to tease with your hole. 

You nod against him, breathing in deeply and turning to jelly against him. You love and hate the way he makes your body react. It’s hard to keep your eyes on that window across from you when you’re being offered sheer arousal right behind you. 

“Mm, you always get so wet when you know someone might be watching.” Your husband compliments you, dipping his fingers in before sliding them out again and running them up to swirl around your clit with more pressure than before. “God, you’re soaking my fingers already babe, he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on–”

You let out a small moan, frustrated that you want Jongseong to be right. If only Sunghoon would take the two of you up on the offer. If only he would actually glimpse even for a moment. You clench at the idea of those blinds opening, grinding harshly against Jongseong’s hand with a desperate sort of sound. 

Right then, you see movement next door. Jongseong can tell with the way your pussy grips his fingers tightly when he slides them back into you, and you let out a genuine and desperate moan. He flicks his eyes up, now noting the movement himself. 

The way you writhe your body at the mere confirmation that Sunghoon is watching is insanely erotic to your husband. Whether it’s out of curiosity or if it’s out of arousal, it doesn't matter. He loves the way you get turned on so fast, and with this being the situation, he’s not surprised that you seem more desperate than usual. Plus, the fact that those blinds stay parted shows that Sunghoon likes what he’s seeing, and you couldn’t be more aroused by the thought of what he must be doing behind the veil of his own window-blinds. 

Jongseong chuckles gently in your ear as you continue to lose your mind on his fingers, he can tell that now you’re moving to turn both him and Sunghoon on, rather than just him like moments ago. You grind more, you whine more, you get increasingly more wet. 

And as you stare forward to the little space in Sunghoon’s window where his eyes sit, you grow more and more frustrated with the way he doesn’t open the blinds up. You want to see him too, you need to see if he’s touching himself.

Jongseong can tell through your frustrated moans that you need more, and like the doting husband he is, he offers a solution fairly quickly. 

“What’s wrong?” He coos, fucking his fingers in again at an angle, deepening them inside of you and holding your waist in place. “He’s not giving you what you want?”

You nod brokenly, finally tearing your eyes from the window and shooting a pleading look to your husband, rolling your eyes back only slightly when his fingertips bump the soft and sensitive spot inside of you. 

“My phone, use it.” Jongseong smiles, holding your waist in place tighter so he can fuck his fingers in at a harsher pace. You tremble in his grasp, unsure if you can even process the idea of texting right now. “Tell him to let you see him.”

You nod, smiling through the sensitivity of your g-spot being repeatedly assaulted, clearly on purpose, surely to have you going fucking feral. Reaching for the phone, your hands are trembling as you unlock it and read over the messages from before with Sunghoon. His curiosity is hopefully strong enough to actually stick around for the next however long, because god, you want him to see you fall apart. 

Jongseong: open your blinds, let me see

Sunghoon watches you text as your body jerks with each hidden movement of Jongseong’s hand under that robe, and when his phone goes off he almost panics. Almost. He drops his cock and grabs his phone in one hand while using the other to keep the split of his blinds open enough to keep watching. Fighting the feeling of appearing like a damn stalker, despite his hips rubbing his achingly hard cock against the trim of the window. 

The way Jongseong stares from behind you, the way you smirk through faces of pleasure at what he’s doing to you, at what he must be saying to you. Sunghoon has never felt so fucking aroused watching someone have what he wants. The way you skew your head to listen to what your husband is saying, the way his hands move to places he can’t see. Arguably, you look like the most fuckable person on this planet at the moment and it’s incredibly difficult to not want to fuck something, anything, right now.

Sunghoon knows he’s done for if he so much as grips his own cock by now. So quickly the thought of doing this made his pathetic cock weep against his briefs, and now, seeing it happen in real time just across the yard. Yeah, he could cum within seconds if he doesn’t try to control it. Upon reading your text though, he finds himself following precise directions and opens the blinds for you to reveal himself. 

His face flushes seeing you in full without the blinds cutting off his peripheral vision. It kind of hits him differently realizing he’s in his own quiet bedroom fucking himself to the image of you propped up against the window for him. It’s embarrassing and he feels entirely pathetic when you look at him like this. Both so far away and so close at the same time. His senses are heightened tenfold the moment he sees you react. 

An accidental moan spills from his lips, the sound breaking the heavy silence of his home and echoing through the walls as if to tell whatever ghosts that live here that he definitely wants to fuck around with the married couple next door. Your attraction to him only heightens the confidence he holds within himself.

You, on the other hand, can feel your arousal drip out of you and onto your husband’s hand at seeing Sunghoon coming into full view. Your hand grips at your husband’s, clumsily allowing yourself to feel the sheer force of how his fingers are plunging into you just at the right moment. You roll your head back briefly, basking in the pleasure of being fucked and watched.

“Keep watching babe,” Jongseong groans himself, flicking his eyes to Sunghoon. “He’s so hard.”

You weakly lift your head again, opening your darkened eyes and looking directly at the man through the window. His hair is a mess, fanning across his forehead, and he’s shirtless, revealing the abs you only assumed he had at first glance. His cock is heavy against his dark gray briefs, stretching the fabric out enough to tell you that, yeah, he is packing. 

You make eye contact with him, staring straight into his eyes as you press your ass back and against Jongseong, who readily accepts the movement and presses his cock directly against you with a soft sigh of his own. 

“Already?” He whispers to you with an amused chuckle, stilling his fingers and dropping his other hand to toy at the tie of your robe, hopefully so it falls open naturally at a quicker pace now that you appear to be losing it. 

“Right now.” You respond in a desperate voice, hiking one leg up against the table off to the side and feeling your robe instantly fall open. 

Your eyes devour the image of Sunghoon’s mouth falling open in what you can only assume is a moan at your naked body being revealed to him and Jongseong’s fingers rapidly fucking into you. Instantly, you shoot your hand to your chest and start toying with one of your nipples for him. Throwing a hungry gaze straight across the way and making obvious suggestions at him through it. 

Jongseong from behind you is seemingly in his own little world when he pulls his fingers out and shoves his boxers down. He arches your back with his palm so that your ass lifts for him, instantly you can feel his cock between your legs. He takes a step back, pulling you with him and removing your leg from the table to position you in a way that if Sunghoon looks hard enough, he can see the way his cock slides between your thighs. 

“Not yet, let’s play first.” Jongseong soothes you through the disappointed sigh of your leg being pulled down from the table. You were so ready to start fucking immediately, but of course he wants to make a good first impression. “Hold your legs together.” He adds.

You listen perfectly, feeling Jongseong’s cock slide easily between your thighs. 

“God, fuck–” He moans, feeling the wetness of you drip down onto his length as you squeeze your thighs together as tightly as possible. “He would go insane over you.”

“He already is,” You chuckle weakly, staring at the way Sunghoon’s hand snakes under his briefs and tugs against himself. “I want to see it so bad.” 

“Mm, yeah, I bet you do.” Jongseong responds mindlessly, loving the feeling your thighs offer to his desperate length. “Tell him then.”

Right then, Sunghoon can see a mischievous little smile form across your lips as he struggles already not to release against his perfectly cleaned window. The way Jongseong manhandles you is one thing, with his hands gripping onto your flesh just to pound his cock between your legs– fuck. But, the way both of you stare straight at him is another. Sunghoon might be obsessed with the way the two of you touch each other intentionally to get all three of you off. So badly does he want to be right there in the room, hearing you in his ear, watching Jongseong kiss across your skin and massage your pretty sensitive pussy. One that he hasn’t entirely even gotten to see yet. 

Then, he jumps as his phone rings. 

From your end, you watch as he jumps out of surprise, glances at his phone, then back at you, shaking his head with a wince as he grips his cock again. 

“He’s not going to pick up.” You comment as the tightened squeeze of your thighs loosen up with disappointment. 

Jongseong is instantly smiling, letting his cock fall from its place of stimulation and is pulling you back, back, back. Offering a full view of him falling back on the bed, and you falling with him. 

“Show him your pussy.” Jongseong says, reaching around you to open your thighs as if you’re a grand prize for this little sex game of trying to seduce a broken hearted man.

Jongseong knows he has an entire list of positions he could do to get Sunghoon just as desperate as you get. Usually, presenting his wife’s pussy at another man is enough to have them making decisions they previously doubted. He hopes Sunghoon reacts the same, because if he’s being totally honest with himself, saying no to you when you’re spread out like this is a fucking sin.

You stare at Sunghoon when your husband spreads your legs, pussy pulsing around nothing more than the stare being directed at it. And there, sitting on Jongseong’s hips with your back facing him, you easily hold your legs open and slide your fingers down to circle your clit. 

You stay like that for a moment, squinting to see Sunghoon’s reaction and noting the way his hand fucks faster under the fabric of his briefs. You want him to go harder, so hard that he needs to take that last remaining bit of clothing off of him so that you can see. Thankfully, Jongseong’s cock lies right below where your ass is sitting , and it’s easy to grasp it and hold it up against your folds. You grid against it gently before swirling your clit along the length of him, still staring at Sunghoon with a smile. As if to tell him, “this could be you.”

The way Sunghoon’s hand moves faster is one thing, the way he looks more unashamed now compared to when you first saw him in that window is another. The way his arms flex as he keeps his cock hidden beneath those briefs, jerking himself off desperately as if you can’t tell he’s struggling not to moan loud enough for you to hear even from here, it’s too fucking erotic. 

Never have you and your husband had a neighbor to play with like this. Typically, you’re being watched in the same room, this is something entirely different. This is insanely arousing and you can feel your pussy clench each time you’re reminded of how fucking sweet this deal could be.

“Keep doing that” Jongseong continues to instruct through a half-moan, feeling the way you rub his length against you as a form of masturbation. “I’ll call him again.” 

This time, you note how the phone rings once before Sunghoon is fumbling to answer. You see the way his hand stills to put his focus on saying “hello?” as if he doesn’t know it’s you and your husband. As if the people calling him aren’t watching him fuck himself. 

Jongseong starts immediately though, his words driving you insane enough to know Sunghoon would have to react in a way that sends him over edge too.

“You wouldn’t believe how wet she is,” Your husband boasts without greeting him back, putting the phone on speaker and lying it next to the two of you. “I bet you would love to bury your tongue in her right now, wouldn’t you?”

Sunghoon nearly stutters as he hears the words, staring at the way you hold Jongseong’s cock right where you want it to grind against. It’s so much to be able to see and hear what’s happening, and it’s like something in his head clicks. He’s so fucking turned on that he feels like he’s going insane, so he puts his normal, level-minded self to rest. No room for embarrassment when his cock is already aching for the couple who seem to want him just as bad. 

“Fuck, yeah,” Sunghoon sighs out, lying his own phone down against the window sill and fucking his hips forward into his hand. His briefs now stretched out to the point that they truly are more of an issue than anything else right now. “I would, god, how wet?”

You moan at how desperate his voice sounds, now pressing your clit directly against the head of Jongseong’s cock and deliberately making yourself moan from pleasure. When he flashes his cock to you though, fuck. Just barely he lowers his briefs, palm teasing himself in such a harsh way. He looks so pretty over there, all alone, watching someone else get to play with you like some kind of pervert. 

“That’s it,” You say, knowing he can hear you. “Let me see you.” 

Sunghoon does, shoving his briefs down entirely now, allowing you to imprint the image of how thick and heavy his length is in your brain permanently. 

“Oh, you’d feel so good,” You half-groan to Sunghoon, now inching your husband’s cock straight to your hole and preparing to fuck the daylights out of him. “I knew you’d have a cock just as pretty as you.”

Jongseong chuckles from behind you, entirely aroused by the way you talk to another man, a more shy man. He can tell how desperate you are by now too, especially with the way you toy with his cock as if you picked it up from a store shelf and it’s not attached to him. He loves it. And when he sits up, wrapping his arms around you to also see Sunghoon, he smiles. 

Both of you are totally fucking gone. Even from here he can tell Sunghoon is losing his mind over you. Thankfully, you deserve nothing less and Jongseong couldn’t be happier to play off of the way you both seem to want each other terribly. 

“See this?” He says towards the phone,  snaking his hand around you to move his cock and spreading your pussy lips. ”Even from there, can’t you see how wet she is for this?”

Both of you can hear Sunghoon’s muffled groan before you see it, his head falling forward against the window as he stares down at his hand and the way he fucks it. You’re entirely satisfied, because you know what he’s thinking. You can see how badly he wants it, and your husband does nothing but remind him of it. 

“Do you want me to fuck him?” You finally ask, pushing your own agenda and rising up on your knees to situate yourself right above Jongseong’s length, where he takes over and holds it in place for you. 

Sunghoon’s eyes shoot back to the two of you and he nods before breathing out a small “Yeah…”

He doesn’t seem like much of a talker, but it could still be stage fright. Even if he isn’t the one on the damn stage. You can imagine he would get better at this if he accepts the invite of your open blinds on more than one occasion. 

Jongseong chuckles again at him, the breathy tone of his voice is quite obvious to him. Sunghoon is holding out, he doesn’t want to cum too soon and end the fun.

“You heard him babe, ride me.” 

Instantly, you’re sinking down and feeling the harsh stretch of Jongseong’s cock pulsing inside of you. Your drawn out moan rings in Sunghoon’s mind as he watches the slow descent. Only now, noting how big Jongseong is, and seeing how well you take it. He twitches in his palm, eyes nearly rolling back to escape the overwhelming arousal that floods his thoughts. 

Sunghoon isn’t sure if either of you are aware, but he can hear how wet you are through the phone. When you slide down and start bouncing, all while staring forward at him, he can hear it pour out of you. The slapping of your ass landing against Jongseong is a beautiful sound, and he does his best not to moan through it and muffle those sounds out. 

He stares straight back at you, thinking hard enough at how he fucks the circle his fingers create. He’s losing his breath when he fucks his fist in time with the way you bounce, tuning into your face and imagining that he’s the one you’re riding. No offense to Jongseong, it’s nearly like he doesn’t exist right now considering he’s almost entirely hidden by you. 

That doesn’t last too long though, because Jongseong makes himself well known through his breathy words. Dirty talking in a way that somehow, Sunghoon still finds himself shocked by it. The words turn him on, he can only imagine how you feel about. 

“Fuck, babe, you’re so tight.” Jongseong says at first, gripping your thighs and basking in the way you squeeze his length each time Sunghoon does something to turn you on. “ All spread out like this for him? So, so good.”

Sunghoon feels so shameless, and for some reason it feels okay. Your husband is dirty talking to you about him and it’s insanely sexy when he hears it. Already stuttering his hips in his palm, especially when he notes that Jongseong moves his hands to your pussy and spreads it open again for him. Offering him the perfect view of his length sliding in and out of you. 

“Would love to see how this pussy gets filled up, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Unsure if Jongseong is talking to you or to him at this point, Sunghoon answers without thinking. 

“Fuck, yeah, fuck–” Sunghoon says with a cut-off groan, holding the base of his cock so tight he feels like he can’t breathe. He can’t release yet, he has to keep going. 

You moan loudly at his breathed out answer, nodding your head frantically at the confirmation, answering for yourself shortly after. 

“Yeah?” You start, encouraging Sunghoon to keep talking. “You think you could stretch me open too? Yeah?” 

And then? He moans brokenly through the phone which instantly has you leaning yourself back, and lying against Jongseong’s chest. He falls back with you, holding you and once again and moving his fingers to your clit, his cock still pounding in at the perfect pace. 

“Fuck, she’s there–” Jongseong grits out, feeling your orgasm wash over you and grip his cock insanely tightly. “Goddamn, feels so good babe, that’s it.”

Sunghoon, watching and listening, instantly releases the grip on the base of his cock, staring straight at the way Jongseong stuffs his length inside of you. Hearing the way you called his name with encouraging words echoes in his head, and then he stutters out a broken sob as he feels his own orgasm wash over him, and just like him, you’re also listening. 

He must hold his breath when he’s close, or maybe he’s just way more shy than he appears to be, considering what he’s doing right now, but you don’t mind as you ride your own high. Ears popping shortly after when Jongseong continues to chase his own pleasure through the mess of your pulsing cunt. 

Strangely enough, even Jongseong is shocked at how fast he cums from this. Releasing a mere two seconds after you relaxed around him. You can feel him pulse inside of you as you lie against him, pussy still on full display, cum dripping out of you in a beautiful scene for Sunghoon’s eyes to devour.

And devour, they do. Sunghoon just stares, head spinning as he ignores the spurts of cum hitting his window and dripping down onto his carpet. His hand is also drenched but he makes no attempt to move afterwards. Arguably, he’s still aroused by the image of the way your husband fills you up like that, and the way you’re so full of his cock that it dribbles out and onto your thighs from around him. 

God, he wants to lick you so bad. Even now, fully spent and his sober-mind coming back to him, he wants to taste you. He wants to taste what Jongseong just spilled into you. 

“Sunghoon,” Jongseong calls out, breaking the silence with an out of breath voice. “You still watching?”

There’s another moment of paused silence.

“Yeah–” 

Jongseong smiles, nuzzling his face against you and your neck as you continue to lean against him out of breath. Slowly, he pulls out of you, once again spreading you open for Sunghoon to see, allowing the rest of his cum to drip out of you. 

“Take a good look, because this pussy went fucking insane over you.” He says, slapping your sensitive clit twice before sliding his hand down and playing in the mess he’s made of you.

Sunghoon does look. He has been looking. Honestly, it’s almost embarrassing at the way his cock twitches with interest again, so fucking fast after having already been emptied. Never has his ex let him raw her like that. Never has he seen his cum drip out of someone. He’s so jealous right now.

“I’ll be coming over tomorrow to discuss this.” Jongseong adds nonchalantly, easily going from filth-talk to casual-talk. “Get some rest.” 

“Goodnight, Pretty boy.” You call out with a dazed smile, finally moving yourself off of Jongseong and adjusting your robe back onto your shoulders. 

And right before Jongseong hangs up the phone, both of you smile at each other at the way Sunghoon lets out, in the tiniest voice for such a broad man, a gentle little “Goodnight.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By morning, Sunghoon nearly forgot Jongseong said he was coming over. It wasn’t until the afternoon when he managed to get the image of you getting off out of his mind that he remembered there’s supposed to be a discussion about it. 

Embarrassment hits him harder than it ever has, thinking about what he was doing for both of you to see. It wasn’t just a show for him, he put one on for the two of you as well. 

When he makes his way back into his bedroom, he tries to ignore the fact that your blinds are still open, and there’s no one in the room. He pauses briefly, once again trapped in the on-going loop of what he saw happening on that very bed just the night before. 

It feels like he’s doomed when Jongseong comes over. He could just not answer the door but it doesn’t change the fact that he lives right next door and he already came all over his window before your very eyes. Before Jongseong’s very eyes. He’s already crossed the boundary into someone else’s marriage and despite loving the idea of it, it’s scary. It’s not something he’s ever considered doing before meeting the two of you, and now, he’s kind of just confused as to how all of this works. 

Like, it almost seems too sweet of a deal. You’re a beautiful couple, who is he to be able to watch what you do with your husband? What’s the catch? 

Well, he comes to find out that there isn’t much of a catch at all. Jongseong shows up with a warm smile and a gift of wine. It felt welcoming but insanely awkward with the way it’s the first time Sunghoon has ever been offered a hug by him.

They hug. Jongseong fucking hugs him to say hello with that expensive ass bottle of wine as if to say “nice cock, my wife loved it.” 

Jongseong does pick up on the awkwardness though, stepping through Sunghoon’s door and inviting himself in. After all, it’s only appropriate at this point. He keeps his smile though, loving the way you woke up in a good mood all thanks to Sunghoon letting his curiosity get the best of him. 

“Don’t be like that,” Jongseong says, glancing around the house and nodding in approval that it doesn’t appear to be entirely barren. He kind of expected the house to not feel like a home, because that’s usually what single men do. “You can back out anytime you want.”

Sunghoon, somehow, feels eased by those words. His heart thumps against his chest at the thought of never doing it again though. Which is kind of weird to him. 

“Sorry, I just don’t really know how to act right now...”

Jongseong offers him a warm smile again, seeing himself to the kitchen and opening the drawers. 

“We can talk about that,” He waves him off, still rummaging through a kitchen that isn’t his own. “You got a corkscrew?” 

Sunghoon nods, trying to make his frame seem as small as possible by tip-toeing past his neighbor with the huge cock and opening one of the only drawers he didn’t get to. He pulls out the corkscrew and hands it to him, making no attempt to look into his eyes even for a second. 

“Oh my god, loosen up.” Jongseong rolls his eyes, shoving Sunghoon by the shoulder playfully and heading back to the bottle of wine.

Sunghoon feels slightly comforted by the fact that maybe he can loosen up with a bit of wine in his system, but getting to that point feels like it’s going to be hell. He’s never felt so embarrassed. 

“Sorry,” He responds in a small voice, grabbing two random cups and following Jongseong. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to expect out of this whole thing, like–” 

Jongseong cuts him off with a wave of his hand.

“That’s why I’m here to talk to you about it. Clearly this isn’t something you’ve done before, it’s not like we didn’t want you to get off or anything. You’ll come to learn that we enjoy this kind of thing.”

He pauses as he opens the bottle, shifting it to the side now to grab two cups and look at Sunghoon. 

“If you end up not enjoying it, there’s always someone else we can find to take up the offer.”

Sunghoon very nearly panics, hoping it doesn’t show plainly on his face as he takes over pouring the wine. Jongseong picks up on people so easily, watching Sunghoon shake his head slightly at the words and pour a suspiciously nervous amount of wine into both cups. 

“That’s the thing though,” Sunghoon says, popping the cork back into the bottle and already taking a swig of his wine. “I did enjoy it. I mean, I do enjoy it.”

Jongseong raises his brow, nodding his head in encouragement and grabbing his own cup before following Sunghoon to his living room.

“Good, I’m glad you had fun. Let’s talk about it then.”

Sunghoon knows it’s inevitable, and hopefully within the next hour, he won’t feel so cautious in talking about it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You know, usually I wouldn’t let her cum so fast,” Jongseong shrugs, standing to grab the bottle of wine and bring it into the living room. “I tend to try and get a few out of her but she just wasn’t going to let me. Did you see the way she grabbed it and sat on me? I couldn’t have stopped her even if I wanted to.” 

The way Jongseong talks loudly and comfortably about it is kind of soothing. Given, this is probably why they’re opting to hang out inside of the house rather than outside. This is a private matter, an intimate one, even. 

“She slept like a rock afterwards, and is now insisting we keep the blinds open at all times to view at your discretion.” 

Sunghoon stutters a bit, scooting his cup towards Jongseong and hoping he pours another generous amount into his cup. Already, since he doesn’t drink too often these days, he can feel the buzz and comfort settles within him as Jongseong seemingly dotes on him. 

“What I’m trying to say is, our blinds are permanently open unless you’d rather not do this. Alternatively, the door is open too, but,” Jongseong pauses so he can sip his drink. “You’re going to need to get tested first if you want that thing anywhere near my wife.”

Sunghoon shifts slightly, squeezing his legs together uncomfortably as his wine bubbles in his belly. 

“I’ve already been tested. My ex cheated on me with god knows how many people, you think that wasn’t the first thing I did?”

“Smart man,” Jongseong claps him on the shoulder, now leaning in a bit too close for comfort if Sunghoon were still in his embarrassed mind-state. “We get that you’re shy about all of this, but I’ve gotta tell you, the way she clenched when you moaned, oh man.”

Sunghoon’s eyes start to shine at the compliment, for some reason feeling like he’s on top of the world hearing that. 

“Felt like I was being strangled, honestly.” Jongseong laughs before going quiet. “So, what do you think?”

Sunghoon pauses, staring at his cup and then at his neighbor. 

“I, um–” He sighs out of frustration, wondering why he can’t articulate a damn sentence with confidence. “I liked watching, I guess. Not sure if I’m ready to just…”

“Come over and fuck my wife?” Jongseong finishes his sentence playfully before immediately gripping Sunghoon’s shoulder and laughing fondly at him. “Take your time. Like I said, the blinds are open and we have a pretty active sex life. I can imagine you’re going to wonder how I’m not milked dry yet.”

He already wonders that.

“But I do want to say, if you decide to actually come over and show her a good time, there are rules to that.” 

Sunghoon quirks a brow, unsure of if his mind is running in a way that will let him take down mental notes. 

“First of all, she’s protected so as long as you can provide proof of your test you can cum in her all you want, she likes that but, you’re not touching her ass.”

Sunghoon nods, shrugging nonchalantly and surprised he even responded that way. 

“She likes it rough but she doesn’t know you well enough yet. Don’t slap my wife, don’t grab her neck with the intention of choking her, and don’t call her any type of degrading name. Not yet, at least.”

Wow, his brain is actually taking down the mental notes perfectly. Even with these rules, he’s not entirely into hitting the person he wants to be inside of, not unless they ask anyway. 

“That’s it. Those are the rules.” Jongseong says with a shrug, taking another drink and tapping his foot on the floor. “What about you? For possible future endeavors, what’re your terms?”

There’s a long pause. Sunghoon is totally unprepared to make rules for a situation he’s never even been involved with before, but he does his best. 

“Well,” He breathes out, blowing a strand of his fringe up from his forehead in a huff. “I don’t know. Don’t put anything in my ass?”

“Well, that’s sucks,” Jongseong deadpans, then nods. “But fair, okay. What else?” 

Sunghoon continues to let his eyes wander around his living room as he thinks of things he doesn’t like sexually. 

“I really don't know. I’ve mostly just had normal sex. I can tell you what I do like?” He admits, knowing that all of this is just in case.

“Alright, go on then.” Jongseong nods, now topping off their drinks. 

It’s actually hilarious to him, hearing Sunghoon list off the most mundane sex acts. He does his best not to chuckle at the mention of “blow jobs, I like those.” Instead, he offers something along with that, interrupting him.

“Ever been deep throated?” Jongseong asks, watching Sunghoon breathe in because it’s like he lost all of his breath trying to list off things he likes. “Like, you know, ever face-fucked?”

Sunghoon nods, then shakes his head, then nods. 

“ I mean, my ex never really let me hold her head in place, but I tried once. And don’t even get me started on the way she would refuse to continue if she gagged even once.”

Jongseong shakes his head in pity.

“Man, you’re gonna love my wife.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well, to put it lightly, Sunghoon might, definitely, insanely, obsessively be in love with you. Not in like the “leave your husband” way but more in like the “i want you so bad and know that i’m allowed to have you if i’d just stop being a little bitch about it” way. 

It’s been another entire week since Jongseong came over to discuss things with him and even more so now, is Sunghoon’s mind in the gutters. He’s thankful he’s good at his job, almost able to do everything needed without much thought behind it because if that weren’t the case, he would probably be fired by now. 

Fired for being too horny at work isn’t something he ever considered would happen to himself, and though it hasn’t and probably won’t, he isn’t too shocked at this point to be learning more and more about these hidden little interests that only came to light when he met you and your husband. 

Those blinds do stay open, and that little bedside lamp in your bedroom has become one of his favorite things. One, because it illuminates the way your body moves when Jongseong inevitably fucks the breath out of you, and two, because it’s actually kind of a nice lamp.

And god, his window. His poor fucking window. Four out of the seven nights since Jongseong came over has he been standing right there, blinds open, getting himself off. He knows he’s a pervert by this point. He embraces it now, knowing for a fact that you’re also embracing it, and even Jongseong is too. 

The embarrassment that hits him after each time he releases hurts much less than the post-nut guilt of all that porn he was watching before all of this happened. He’s not sure why, but there’s something inside of him that tells him it’s because he’s wanted. He’s being fawned over by an entire married couple and it makes his confidence go through the fucking roof. 

That second time he stood at his window, he was still unsure of it. But now, three more sessions later, he finds himself considering the offer of being in the room. Each time he thinks he should do it. You know, like release his cock mid-jerk off session just to run next door and barge into the room to bury himself inside of you, all while Jongseong allows it to happen and praises him for manning up to do it. 

He hasn’t yet though, because most of the time he struggles to pull his eyes away from how fucking good the two of you look together. And you know, to him, when he thinks about actually being in that room with the two of you, there’s still some shame left in him about it. 

Something about the idea of joining a married couple despite how much he loves watching them, the idea of them asking him multiple times to work his body on you, the idea of them leaving their blinds open just so he can get off at his own volition. 

It’s such an insane fantasy come to life and the shame he feels about actually following through stays despite it wavering with each time he watches and listens in by calling you himself to hear you moan. 

Again, by now, an entire week later and several sessions of pure voyeurism, he questions that shame and wonders how much it’ll take to ignore it. Next time for sure he’s going to go over there. Next time, he’s going to put that shame to rest like he did the first time with simply watching. 

That next time doesn’t happen though, because you’re not wandering around your room naked for Sunghoon to see when his alarm goes off. Because yeah, it’s kind of a ritual now to look out the window and nod a little “good morning” to you and your tits.

When he looks outside near the afternoon, both cars in your driveway are gone and it hits him over how fixated he is on the two of you. It feels almost empty seeing the two of you gone on a weekend, when Jongseong is usually texting him to see if he wants to hang out. 

By this point for him, yes, come over please. 

Then, relief washes over him when he hears Jongseong’s car pull into the driveway. The amount of pining within Sunghoon at this moment is driving him insane. It’s only four in the afternoon by this point and his mind is reeling. Going miles a minute and honestly, he needs this overwhelming feeling to be eradicated. 

He needs to do it. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jongseong is shocked as he sits eating his dinner to the sound of a knock at his door. He’s swift when he stands to his feet and answers it. 

“Oh, was gonna text you to hang out after dinner–” He pauses, realizing this is the first time Sunghoon has ever been on his doorstep save for when he greeted them with a meal after he moved in. He eyes him up and down momentarily before smirking. “Well, well, well.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t quite make eye contact as he stands there and shoves the proof of his tests into Jongseong’s chest, already regretting the decision to come over without so much as texting. 

“Showing up looking like this, already hard too?” Jongseong says snidely, glancing at the results and leaning himself against his door frame. His eyes stare directly at Sunghoon’s obvious raging hard-on beneath his pants, then he glances up at his face. 

Sunghoon appears to be both ashamed and proud, presenting himself like a damn virgin. 

“Relax, it’s cool. You can come in,” Jongseong finally says, trying to ease the tension that seems to be festering within his friend. “I’ll call and see if she’s coming home tonight.”

Sunghoon is fucking mortified. Of course he’s bad at timing. Of fucking course he shows up ready to fuck and you’re not even here. Now he’s just left standing just inside of the front door with a desperate and pathetic cock that, for some reason, still isn’t even going down. 

“She’s. not. here.” Sunghoon says to himself loud enough for Jongseong to throw a laugh at him, putting the phone up to his ear after pressing the call button.

“She went to see her parents. I bet the second I tell her you’re standing there like that, hot ‘n hard, she’ll be running red lights.” 

Sunghoon is flushed. Entirely aroused by this whole situation despite the embarrassment. The last thing he needs to admit to right now though, is getting off on the shameful way he’s acting. He knows he looks desperate, and that…for some reason, makes him feel proud. 

He’s so in his head that he doesn’t even hear Jongseong talk to you. Completely misses the way he says into the phone “hey babe, guess who is standing in our living room right now? so hard it looks like he might cry.”

Totally misses the brief pause and then Jongseong’s response of, “yeah, you might wanna rush.”

Luckily for him though, he’s so in his head that time flies as he tries to will his length to go down just a little bit. It’s frustrating, really, to only learn certain things as they happen to him, but like, damn. He really feels like he’s about to burst already, just standing here with a woman’s husband who is knowingly about to let him fuck her. 

“You’re not usually this quiet.” Jongseong finally says to Sunghoon, who is still just standing there in the living room. “You nervous?”

Sunghoon instantly nods, throwing his hands in front of his hard-on and looking at Jongseong. 

“This is the worst, actually,” Sunghoon starts, shifting from one leg to the other and glancing away. “Fuck you guys for being so enticing.”

Jongseong shrugs proudly, offering a smile and then nodding his head as if to invite Sunghoon to sit on the couch. 

“She’ll be here soon, I’m just going to clean up. Don’t think too hard and take off running, she’s excited.”

Sunghoon nods reluctantly, taking a seat on the couch and staring up at the ceiling in defeat. Jumping out of a window sounds pretty nice but by this point he assumes every window he will ever touch probably has his cum on it by now. You know, association and stuff. 

Then, he hears a car pull up and he’s practically throwing himself to his feet. His balance turning him into a clumsy mess, totally forgetting how to navigate his body and entirely losing the ability to know how to navigate this entire situation. 

The good news for him though, is that you practically jump out of your car and sprint for the door. Not even greeting Jongseong when you rush inside and kick off your shoes. 

All Sunghoon knows is that, one second he stands to his feet and gets a head rush, then he hears a door slam, Jongseong letting out a breathy laugh, and then you slamming into him and practically knocking him back down onto the couch.

“All this time you made me watch? And now you show up when I’m at dinner with my parents.”  You playfully scold him, immediately straddling him and grabbing his face with both hands so that he can look at you. “You’re going to have to tie me up if you don’t want me to be all over you right now.”

Sunghoon looks at Jongseong with a stunned expression, receiving a simple shrug in response. 

“You want her to touch you?” He asks, heading for the bedroom and raising his voice to continue. “If not, I do have rope.”

Sunghoon looks at you, still totally stunned by how fucking fast you got on top of him. He’s rendered more speechless than you’ve ever made him, and his cock twitches painfully from the sensitivity of you sitting on top of him. 

He nods politely, dipping his head and looking down. 

“You can touch me.” He whispers, only to be cut off by Jongseong shouting from the bedroom.

“You guys gonna come into the bedroom, or?” He yells, peeking around the corner and shooting a look at you specifically, as if to remind you to pace yourself considering that Sunghoon is entirely new to this and still seems like a deer in the headlights. 

You nod to Jongseong and then lift Sunghoon’s face back up to you again. 

“I can tell your heart is racing,” You say to him in a fond tone, tilting your head playfully. “It’s okay, come on.” You add, pulling yourself off of him and grabbing his hand.

He stares at the way you intertwine your fingers. Feeling like if he thinks hard enough, you’re not married and you’re more into him than just sex. Then again, he doesn’t want to think about that at all. The whole reason he’s so turned on is because this is considered strange to most people he knows. He doesn’t even want to be in love, he doesn’t want to be in a relationship with any single person right now. 

What he wants is this. What he wants is to watch you through his window, and lust over you, and then get to have you. Time and time again. What he wants is for Jongseong to always share you with him, because he can barely cross his own boundaries, better yet crossing someone else's. 

At least with him, you’d be safe. Jongseong wouldn’t have to worry about broken rules or him coming into your home to take full control. This isn’t his relationship, it’s yours, and if the two of you want him involved even with just sex, he’s leaping for the opportunity at this point. 

There, he’s led into the bedroom where Jongseong looks at him with a fond expression. Sunghoon stares for a moment, then looks around the room. It feels like he’s been pining to be in this very room for ages, and knowing he’s standing here right now feels even more overwhelming. 

He glances at the window, looking through it into his own open blinds and the embarrassment hits him twice as hard, which obviously has his cock aching in arousal. He isn’t even ashamed of the little, breathy whimper of defeat he lets out at this moment, rolling his eyes back and furrowing his brows. 

You let go of Sunghoon and take your place beside Jongseong, both of you checking Sunghoon out from head to toe before looking at each other and smiling. 

“I don’t even know where to start,” Jongseong admits, feeling defeated that for the first time in his sex life with you, he doesn’t know how to get the ball rolling. “Why does this feel so intimate compared to usual?”

You laugh, now staring down both of them, wanting nothing more than to fuck and be fucked. The air in this room feels electrifying, and already you have goosebumps rising against your skin. It feels like heaven. 

“Probably because he’s so close to home,” You chuckle, feeling totally in control with two lost men staring at you as if they want to eat you alive. “Isn’t that right, Sunghoon?” You say, taking a step towards him and already lifting your shirt off of you.

Just as quickly as Jongseong loses his ability to be the one in control, he gains it back after seeing how confident you are. He knows for a fact how badly you want to be on Sunghoon right now, and he has no qualms with that, but part of the fun is being able to present you until the third in the room is practically drooling. 

“Not too quickly,” Jongseong warns, pulling you back by the arm and wrapping his arms around you, dipping his head down to kiss your neck and look Sunghoon directly in the eye. “Just look at him for a bit.”

Sunghoon feels so fucking seen right now, his cock still wildly twitching at each word and glance. He very nearly falls to his knees right then, because in all fairness he’s been rock hard all fucking day and intentionally held off so that he would be so out of his mind, that surely he’d fuck you as good as you need him to. 

“Jongie, I’ve been watching him.” You say, leaning against his warmth and devouring Sunghoon with your eyes, “C’mere, Hoonie.” You add, giving both men shortened versions of their names to show your adoration for them at this moment. 

Sunghoon manages to take a step forward without his knees buckling from under him, his eyes scanning your bare torso and the way your chest is hidden by your bra. He can’t not stare, after all, he’s grown accustomed to it by now. He knows what's under that bra and what’s under those pants, but it still doesn’t change the fact that he’s never seen your body this close. He’s never touched you before. 

“Well?” Jongseong looks at him as he makes his way across the room a bit too slowly for his liking. “We have all day, technically.”

Sunghoon switches his eyes over to Jongseong, who seems amused by how enamored he is right now with you. His mind is fairly blank right now, outside of thinking about everything he wants to do, everything he wishes he could say, but still, all he can manage to do is stand in front of you, still not reaching out. He looks at the way Jongseong has you locked in his arms, holding you still against his chest as if to tame a beast from him. 

“You’re so pretty, Sunghoon, really.” You say, blinking up at him and tapping Jongseong to loosen his grip on you. “You can touch me too, you know.”

He’s still reluctant, looking to Jongseong once again for confirmation and receiving a nod. His hands reach out, touching nothing more than your bare shoulder before sliding down your waist and stepping even closer. 

You can feel the warmth radiating off of them as they sandwich you there between them. Jongseong and his confident breaths behind you easily contrast to Sunghoon’s deeper, nervous breathing. You kind of get now why your husband told you to just watch for a little bit longer. Sunghoon is so readable, with the way his eyes can’t find where to land, the way his hands know where they want to go but he clearly holds back from doing too much too soon out of fear that this entire agreement will shatter before his very eyes. 

You hum out happily, leaning your head back against Jongseong and pressing your hips forward, against Sunghoon. Feeling entirely loved, wanted, needed. 

“I missed this feeling,” You sigh out with a pleasured smile, throwing an arm out and over Sunghoon’s shoulder, pulling him even closer. “I bet you’ll miss it too. I bet you’ll keep coming back for it.”

Jongseong hums as well, nodding his head in agreement before blinking over at Sunghoon and lifting a brow. He wonders how long they’re going to stand here staring at each other so, rolling his eyes dismissively, he presses on.

“I want to watch you eat her out.” Jongseong announces, feeling that it’s not too out of the ordinary to make suggestions since Sunghoon appears to be totally blinded by your tits right now anyway.

Sunghoon nods with empty eyes, shortly before you see him physically break out of his presumed trance and take a step back, very nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Wait, really?” He asks, somehow still unsure that this is a thing that’s actually happening as he regains balance.

“Oh, absolutely.” Jongseong encourages him, using the emptied up space in front of you to maneuver you over to the bed. 

Sunghoon watches as your husband sits you down on the bed, grabs two pillows and places them behind you, then shimmies your pants off of you in a very loving way. He doesn’t know whether to be jealous of Jongseong for being able to love someone enough to pleasure them using others or to be jealous of you for being loved so blatantly. 

“Sunghoon,” Jongseong calls out, tapping your legs to spread them out and taking a step back to make room. “Go on.”

Sunghoon’s legs take him there before his brain can think twice. One second he’s looking at you from the angle of the center of the room, the next he’s falling to his knees, staring straight between your legs at the point of his lust for the last however long. Slender fingers gripping your thighs much the same way Jongseong did the first night he saw the two of you together like this. 

It continues to hit him like a freight train. He’s here. He’s doing this. Not even a year ago he was sleeping in a different place, with a fiancée, making calls to find venues for a fucking wedding, and now he’s here. Between the legs of another man’s wife, at his request. 

Why is he so pleased with the drastic change of events? Why is his mouth watering looking at the small damp spot seeping through your panties? Why does he feel like he isn’t even himself at this moment? 

None of it matters, not when you reach out and run your fingers through his hair to urge him forward. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes and breathing out through his nose because it’s been a long time since he felt the loving touch of another person in his hair like this. 

It’s been a long time since he’s felt the warmth of a woman in front of him, and even longer since he last felt this drunk on the atmosphere around him. Your soft fingers scratch against his scalp, and that alone makes his entire body shiver as he nuzzles against your thigh lovingly, leaving his kiss against your skin for the first time. 

Jongseong watches, not entirely used to a man acting like this with his wife. Usually, they’re already trying to get their cock inside of her, but Sunghoon seems to be basking in the touch and feel of it all through each step and in a way, he understands. He was with someone for six years and planned to spend his life with her, he can imagine this is something Sunghoon missed doing, despite the bitch not even wanting to gag on him. 

He feels fond watching the two of you, situating himself on the bed and letting you lean up against him. There, he starts to work your bra off of you, matching Sunghoon’s slowly paced arousal. 

You, on the other hand, feel like your body is catching fire. That little gentle kiss against your thigh was followed by several more, peppered up to your panty line, down to your knees, and then right back up before he even thinks about leaving a kiss against the seat of your panties. 

Which, he does eventually get to doing. Jongseong watches your body jolt at the touch. He can tell you’ve been anticipating it since Sunghoon got on his knees but knows you’re both pacing yourselves for the sake of him being able to enjoy himself. 

Jongseong’s hands do remain on your tits through it, massaging and pinching against your nipples until they’re erect and sending jolts of sensations straight to your clit. Thankfully, Sunghoon appears to be preparing himself to see your arousal up close and personal by this point, keeping his lips right up against it as his fingers toy with the hem of your panties. 

He looks up at you, still searching for confirmation on instinct and can’t help but feel that the green light was given the second he moved into the house next door with the way you both look at him. 

You’re not the only one being loved on right now. He feels entirely taken care of simply for being able to go down on you, and he wants nothing more in this world than to make you feel good. 

So, he does his best. Reaching his arms forward and gripping the sides of your panties before gently pulling them down. He watches as your, by now very wet, panties unstick from your folds as he reveals it to himself and honestly, he doesn’t even care at this point with how he blatantly moans over it. 

And just as you thought he was going to take his time like before, it’s like your entire world is flipped upside down. You take in a sharp and surprised inhale at the way he’s got his tongue on you the second your panties hit the floor. 

Jongseong chuckles at your surprise, internally praising Sunghoon for that sudden jolt of confidence he must have gotten to do that after unintentionally teasing you for far too long. He can feel your nipples react to what he’s doing, and through the sound of Sunghoon’s tongue, his groans through the taste of you, even he feels like he’s going insane just sitting with you against him like this. 

“Ah, fuck,” You moan out, feeling the way his tongue leaves no part of your pussy unexplored. “Fuuuck.” You continue, totally speechless and unable to praise him the way you’d very much like to right now. 

  When you run your fingers through his hair again, feeling the way he moves his head beneath them, the way he stiffens his tongue as he slides it up your entire pussy, then lands on your clit and begins to flick his tongue at such a pace? You can’t help it when your legs nearly close in on him, shaking against his ears.

Jongseong is there though, quickly reaching down to hold your legs open for him. 

“Sensitive?” He gleefully whispers to you, watching the way you grip Sunghoon’s hair in your fingers through the obvious struggle. He knows you won’t answer, which is fine, because he loves when you get like this. Though it’s never through a man simply giving you some good head. 

Sunghoon continues his assault with his tongue, so drunk on the taste of you that all he can do is keep going. Keep tasting, flicking your clit until it’s swollen before sliding back down again and burying his tongue inside of you as deep as it’ll go. Like he can’t get enough, especially with the way your hips wiggle to get away, with the way your fingers try to weakly tug his head away from you.

He hopes this is exactly what Jongseong wanted to see, because he couldn’t be happier to fulfill the request. Moaning into you only to breathe nothing but you back in. His cock still neglected from a full day of arousal, tasting you alone is soaking his pants. Never has he felt so desperate for something. Never.

Even when he can feel the bed shift and your legs close around his head again, he continues. 

“Hold her legs open for me,” Jongseong instructs as he pulls himself off of the bed, now seemingly so aroused that he feels the need to involve himself. He shimmies off his clothing and props himself back up on the bed, directly next to you and easily holding his length to bump against your slacked and moaning mouth. 

You readily accept your husband into your mouth. Instantly taking him as deeply as you can out of sheer arousal. Wanting to do the dirtiest things your brain can come up with solely because of how good everything feels right now. Jongseong loves it, especially with how greedy you seem as you furrow your brows and will yourself to take more into your mouth. 

“Sunghoon,” Jongseong calls out, reaching over to tap his hand that’s putting his obvious strength to use against your thighs to get his attention. “Look.”

Sunghoon does, after sliding his tongue back up and flicking your clit several more times to get those satisfying shakes of your body in reaction. His eyes trail up as he finally takes a breath of fresh air, only now realizing that you’re both entirely naked. 

“If you keep coming back,” Jongseong starts, moving his hand to caress your cheek before holding the back of your head in place. “this” he punctuates with a hard thrust into your mouth, gagging you. “is what you have to look forward to.”

Sunghoon watches as Jongseong holds your head there, continuously gagging, and then he glances down to your pussy and goddamn. You’re clenching around nothing each time you gag, and the moans you’re letting out along with your gags sends him over edge. His tongue is immediately back on you, satiating that clench with his tongue as best he can. 

The sound of Jongseong’s ever expected fond reactions goes unnoticed by Sunghoon as he puts his entire fucking soul into eating you out. 

Thankfully, you’re able to breathe shortly after, kind of. Save for the fact that when Sunghoon’s isn’t knocking the breath out of you, Jongseong is stealing it by blocking your airways with his length and moaning all the same.

The entire room sounds so erotic, and everything still feels like it’s on fire. Your sensitivity subsides as your focus falls to pleasing your husband, leading your hips to chase Sunghoon’s hungry tongue anywhere it goes. 

It stays like this for a few minutes, all three of you seemingly lost in each other before you feel your husband lean over, allowing you to take care of his cock without his help and sliding his fingers straight to where Sunghoon’s tongue is.

There, he easily slides them in, and still, Sunghoon doesn’t stop. It doesn’t phase him one bit. His tongue continues, working around Jongseong’s fingers and sometimes even licking around them to taste the arousal that seeps from deep inside of you. By now though, he’s humping up, wanting more, more, more. Your hips chase his tongue and your husband’s fingers the same way his hips chase nothing.

Jongseong only likes him more by this point. Even the times they have been with curious men, typically they’re not licking your pussy and his fingers. Sunghoon is so peculiar about this, and arguably his lack of experience is what’s making this feel so fucking magical. His attention doesn’t appear to be divided between the both of you, nor does it even appear to be solely on you like he thinks it is. 

He’s treating you both as if you’re one person, one soul, and appears to accept anything either of you offer as long as you feel good and Jongseong is satisfied with how things are going. 

Never has their bedroom been this silent of words either, especially when someone else is involved. There’s always crude words, but at this point all three of you seem to understand that you’re experiencing rather than trying to put on a show. You’re not competing, you’re not rushing for the finish line, you’re just…fucking. Existing within pleasure together.

“He’s a natural.” Jongseong compliments, sliding his fingers up and out of you only to slide them into Sunghoon’s mouth. The man accepts them too, sucking your wet off of his fingers with a pornographic groan at the warmth and taste of them. “Wonder what else he can do?” 

You smile when you pull off of Jongseong’s, now leaking, cock and look down at Sunghoon. He’s already looking up at you, lips glistening much like his eyes are as he plants more kisses up your body. Solely because Jongseong practically hides your entire pussy with the palm of his hand from him as a hint to move his hungry assault elsewhere. 

He does, happily. He’s satisfied even as he kisses up your belly and feels like he doesn’t need to ask to plant those same glistening lips against one of your nipples and fondle it with his tongue just as beautifully as he did with your clit.

He leaves space for Jongseong’s hand when he moves up, trying to be careful to avoid his hard on brushing against anywhere where it’s not wanted, which doesn’t seem to be much of an issue because Jongseong pulls his hand back shortly anyway, pulling off of the bed and studying the two of you. 

You hug Sunghoon’s head while he worships the chest he’s stared at from his window day after day. Jongseong can clearly see how shy Sunghoon is, but he still seems to be doing everything in a way that makes you both love it. At this point, it wouldn’t even matter what he does, he knows you’d go insane over it, and that’s enough for him to allow it. 

He can’t help himself when he leans over you to kiss you, seemingly so in love with you, careful not to accidentally bump Sunghoon’s head from your tit and probably cause some sort of huff or pout out of him. 

“Lay him back.” Jongseong whispers to you through his kiss, pinching your chin to keep your lips on his for a few moments longer before letting you go. 

The way your eyes shine, and the way Sunghoon’s tongue seems to never tire, you’re almost sad to pull him off of you. But you do, nonetheless, guiding him to stand to his feet and finally running your hands up his torso to urge his shirt off of him. 

You stare at his abdomen, touching and feeling each dip of it. His arms are just as nice and toned, and god damn is his cock huge. You could tell from the window, and you can tell here, even while it’s clothed. 

“Off.” You say, tugging him forward by his jeans and sitting yourself up.

He laughs awkwardly at the movement, looking between the two of you and honestly, damn. You’re both so fucking beautiful right now. He’d be delighted to take these pants off, and he does.

Shortly after, you instruct him to lay back on the bed and he’s only getting more and more comfortable with the situation. Doing exactly as instructed, not even embarrassed by his angry and heavy cock twitching in near pain to be touched. 

“God, look at him.” You groan, now moving yourself on the bed to lean on one elbow and trail your fingers up his abs. 

His entire body twitches at the touch, and he winces just a little bit with a sexually frustrated huff. 

“Should I fuck him?” You ask, looking up at Jongseong, who was actively already fisting his length shamelessly at all of the ideas he has in his head that you could to do Sunghoon, or of what Sunghoon could do to you. 

“Do you want to?” Your husband retorts with an aroused moan following shortly after, looking over to Sunghoon and watching the way he straight up nods shamelessly and practically grabs you by the arm to pull you on top of him.

“So eager,” You laugh, throwing your leg over him and instantly seating yourself directly on his cock. Feeling how huge it is, how hard it is. 

Sunghoon moans at that alone, hands shooting to your waist and squeezing so hard that you know it’ll leave a painful sensation later. 

“Go on then, fuck him.” Jongseong says, amused with how badly this man wants it. 

And you do, without much more of a warning. You lift yourself and expertly slide straight down on his pathetic cock. You watch Sunghoon as you do it, struggling to breathe through the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his length and attempting to adjust to his size.

Sunghoon runs his own fingers through his hair now, trying to keep himself grounded by the feeling he’s missed out on for so fucking long. He lets out a deep half-sobbed moan, cursing at the feeling and nearly tearing up at how fucking tight you are. 

“Shit,” Sunghoon grits his teeth, holding your waist still as if to keep you from moving, then he’s wrapping you in a hug and pulling you straight down against his chest. 

Jongseong skews his head, taking a step closer to see how well Sunghoon fits inside of you and damn. Your pussy is clenching every passing second trying to adjust, and his entire body is reacting to it. Naturally, Jongseong has no choice but to grip his cock harder at the scene, biting back his own desperate moan so that he can still appear to be collected about this. 

As you lay in Sunghoon’s arms though, the harsh hold of him keeping you in place, you can’t help but sigh at the searing stretch inside of you. And he, on the other hand, is being driven crazy by the smell of your hair. Honestly, the scent alone is driving him wild enough that it’s a struggle to keep his own hips from writhing with the need to stretch your pussy out more.

“Keep him still while you make room for me.” Jongseong finally chokes out. “Don’t let him cum.”

You breathlessly nod, trying to press yourself up from Sunghoon’s heaving chest just to grip onto his shoulders and bounce against his desperate attempts to stop you. He gives in after the second bounce though, going from trying to hold you down on him to loosening up and almost helping you bounce.

“That’s it, that’s exactly what she wants–” Jongseong compliments, running his fingers up your back and making you shiver. “Right, babe?” 

You try to answer, but you moan out instead with the way Sunghoon’s hands keep you bouncing at such a pace that your g-spot is being repeatedly fucked against. And when he moves his hands to your ass, he loses himself to the pleasure as his eyes darken even more, fucking up now, deeper into you when you slide down on him. 

“So deep,” You nearly sob out, hands reaching out for Jongseong somewhere behind you, and he’s quick to be there for you. 

“I know, baby.” He asks, leaning onto the bed to kiss against your face. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Sunghoon moans before you can, sinking his head further into the pillows and letting himself get lost in the feeling of you bouncing on him. Jongseong was right about this before, you do get wet. Fucking soaked. 

“You can take more, baby.” Jongseong says to you now, seemingly ready to give you more than either of you know you can handle.

Still, you nod, knowing exactly what he’s wanting to do. You adjust the way you bounce, now leaning onto Sunghoon’s chest so that his cock slamming into you is on full display for Jongseong. 

“Slow down for a second, Hoon–” Jongseong says, liking the nickname well enough to use it himself. “Let me show you what sharing feels like.”

And holy fuck, Sunghoon is not prepared for it. He’s shocked that you’re wanting it, with the way you pant out breathless, pained moans against his collar bone as Jongseong makes attempts to stretch you out more than you already are. 

Sunghoon holds onto those little pants, feeling your hands grip against his body as your husband nudges the head of his cock inside, causing both of you to cry out with a desperate sound. 

Inch by inch, Jongseong works himself in, holding his breath and soothing your back throughout the process, up until he’s managed to fit about as much as he can into you and thrusting forward just once to test the waters. 

“Shiiit–” He moans through a laugh, pulling out and thrusting in again, harder. “So tight.”

The reaction is more than Jongseong could ever have wanted. Both of you, clinging to each other through the overwhelming sensation. Sunghoon, probably overly sensitive from the feeling of your pussy gripping him and Jongseong’s cock massaging the underside of it as he chases his own pleasure. Then there’s you, constantly clenching to adjust, letting out little pleased cries that only get prettier and prettier, especially when they’re mixed in with Sunghoons. 

At this point, Jongseong can barely tell which one of you is moaning, but it’s all the same to him and he begins to do the work for all three of you. Loving the way he’s managed to make his wife and another man fall apart beneath him. 

“God, you both love it.” He says, knowing for a fact that you’re both too gone by now to hear him. Which is good, because he can’t hold his own moans in anymore. 

So, he doesn’t. He grips your hips to hold you in place and continues to thrust, feeling your pussy relax with each thrust until even Sunghoon is able to fuck up slightly. And for you, feeling both cocks sliding into you opposite of each other, you really can’t comprehend a single thing outside of pleasure right now. 

You can hardly breathe, so talking isn’t entirely on your agenda, still though. You try. 

“Fuck, fuck–” You breathe out, gripping even tighter onto Sunghoon now.

“So fucking wet,” Jongseong soothes, offering a harsher thrust now that he’s beginning to lose himself to the feeling too.

“So fucking, big–” You say, mostly into Sunghoon’s ear despite your husband having a good size as well. “Don’t stop. Fuck me open–” You moan to him, encouraging him to keep trying to fuck up.

Jongseong smirks at your hushed and out-of-breath words, you always get dirty when you’re super turned on. Plus, the way Sunghoon follows instructions is insanely sexy too.

In fact, he follows your instructions a little too well. Somehow, Sunghoon overpowers both your weight on him and Jongseong’s harsh thrusts. To the point that he actually has to stop moving his own hips because if he doesn’t, Sunghoon will get all three of you off within seconds if he keeps going at this pace.

“Yeah, fuck, yeah,” Jongseong moans in probably the most erotic voice you’ve ever heard come from him before. Because, never in your life alongside him have you heard him have to cut off his comments with a moan. “He likes it fucking rough.”

And he’s not lying. Part of you wonders if Sunghoon has ever been able to fuck this way, because even as you and your husband manage to find room to converse through this, Sunghoon is still gone and lost in his own world. Still holding onto you, and still fucking into you so hard that you’re very nearly releasing little yelps each time he bottoms out. 

Jongseong, on the other hand, knows exactly how your body reacts when you’re getting close. Usually knowing before you do, and he really does his best to keep his composure through this. He does his damndest to hold off, amazed that Sunghoon lasted past the first instance of you sinking down on him. 

Shaking hands reach between you and Sunghoon, and you’re quick to sit up and lean back against Jongseong instead to let him have access to your clit. Despite his cock slipping out of you slightly, he can still manage to fuck a few inches in at this angle, and honestly it’s a welcome relief because if he continued any further, he worries your clit would be left long neglected by his brain malfunctioning in a sudden orgasm.

You smile in a daze as you stare down at Sunghoon, his eyes droopy and hooded when he opens them, but for the most part remaining closed and focused on fucking you as good as he can. And paired with the sensation of Jongseong rubbing your clit, you’re rendered useless in announcing that you’re close. 

Thankfully, your lovely, amazing, and doting husband knows you as well as you know yourself. 

“Keep going,” He breathes, out of breath and reaching his other hand up to hold one of your tits in his hand, lips going to your neck. “She’s close.”

Sunghoon lets out a choked moan at the same time you let one out, and instantly Jongseong pulls out with a pleased and frustrated moan. 

“There you go baby,” Jongseong coos at you, now focusing solely on rubbing your clit with one hand and fucking his fist with the other. ”Squeeze him.”

God, you do, coming undone wrapped around his relentless cock, pulsing and shaking as Jongseong makes no attempt to ease the orgasm out of you. His fingers only circle your clit harder, and Sunghoon only fucks up harder. 

“Fuck, Sunghoon,” Jongseong calls out, watching the man in awe. “How are you holding out right now?”

Sunghoon blinks up, his eyes totally lost to arousal and he continues to fuck into you far past your orgasm ending, loving the slide of how much wetter you got through it. He feels like he’s fucking half a year’s worth of himself into you, which is fair. Because he definitely is. 

“Look at him babe, tell him it’s okay.” Jongseong continues, wanting Sunghoon to get off so that he can stop holding off on his own. It’s entirely insane how much self-control this man has.

Not even Jongseong himself could withstand this without losing a bit of self control, and yet, god. He really is the perfect third. The perfect neighbor. 

This is an indication that Jongseong is about to go full cuckold and work at himself as you take what you want from Sunghoon, and you really do try. 

Your legs shake around him as you continue to try and ride him, leaning down to hover over his lips in a faux first kiss to tell him to rest his hips, and he does, sighing out a little sound of relief as you take back the control.

He’s never been so fucking turned on in his life, and in all honestly, not even he knows how he hasn’t gotten off yet. He’s needed it all day. He’s needed it all his fucking life, it seems. 

Jongseong studies the way your tired legs work, the pace slowing down minute by minute before he steps in. His control now fully regained as his orgasm fades and he can continue to instruct and enjoy without a wall of pure sex invading his actions. He releases his cock now, stilling your hips and pulling you off of Sunghoon.

The sound alone is somehow filthier than any porn he’s ever heard. Sloppy and wet, paired with Sunghoon’s frustrated groan at the loss of warmth. 

“Hoon, take the lead.” Jongseong says, helping you to lay back and rubbing your thighs to soothe them, only moving you from the position because he knows you’re going to be sore tomorrow. 

Sunghoon, of course, jumps into action immediately. Lifting from his spot and situating himself between your legs with ease. Now being able to see you under him, rather than hovering above him, he feels like he has all the power in the world to treat you right. 

“Anything you want,” He says, already adjusting himself with your pussy and pressing in. “Anything, just tell me.”

You’re entirely endeared by his words and can’t help it when you pull him down in a huff and connect your lips to his for the first time. He melts into it, fucking his hips into you at a slower pace now, deeper, more lazily. 

He’s smelling you and feeling you entirely, every sensation in the world he could ever want is being satiated right now, and he’s not ashamed to whine through it. Pumping himself into you until it hits him, all because you fucking kissed him. 

So hard does it hit him, each thrust milking him entirely of his cum and not trembling once through it. His cock has been sensitive all day, this new sensitivity is welcome to him as long as you continue to lick into his mouth and scratch against his back like this. 

It’s a given that he was a goner the second he got on top, and when he finally empties the last, impossible amount of cum into you, his ears pop and begin to ring. 

“You guys look so cute–” Jongseong coos, helping Sunghoon out of you on wobbly legs before he leans down to scoop some of the mess out of you. “Now, you lay back too,” he adds, still toying with the cum dripping from you. 

He does, relieved and thankful for the rest after that exhausting experience. He’s out of breath when he flops himself down next to you, turning his head slightly to look at you and how content you seem to be. It makes him feel content too, even without your lips against his. 

There, Jongseong scoops some of that cum out of you and slathers his fingers with it, shuffling forward onto the bed to place himself between your legs now. Then, his fingers make their way over to Sunghoon. 

“Taste it.” He says, wondering if Sunghoon will fight the idea of doing it. 

Shockingly, he doesn’t. He opens his mouth with ease and sucks Jongseong’s fingers into his mouth for the second time. You watch, watching the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the taste of himself mixed with you. You groan out, throat dry from the embarrassing amount of moaning before wiggling your hips. 

“Patience, babe,” Jongseong says, not even glancing at you and keeping his eyes trained on the way Sunghoon eagerly licks his fingers clean before releasing his fingers and blinking over to you, and then up at him.

“You’re both going to fucking kill me.” Jongseong lets out, rolling his eyes before training them on you. “Gonna stuff this mess back into you, yeah?”

You nod obediently.

You’re so content, readily accepting your husband in his rightful place and basking in the familiar feeling of his length pressing inside of you. It’s a feeling you know, and a feeling you love despite having already been fucked open by both of them already. 

At this point, it’s not even just arousal in the air. But like, a secret second thing that somehow feels more content than content. 

Jongseong is in love with the way you look right now though, arguably so for Sunghoon too. With his fucked out face looking just as drowsy as yours does despite the sun setting when all of this started. It’s not as late into the night as it seems to feel, which is fine because time seems like it works differently at this moment. 

“Kiss her,” Jongseong says, with a last gift to Sunghoon for fucking you so well. “Thank her.”

He does, because of course he does. He dips in so fast, cradling your face in the same delicate way he touched your thighs from before. Kissing you just as gently, all while Jongseong takes his time to slide into you with such a fulfilling pace that, honestly, if you will it hard enough, you could probably get off another three times if you wanted to.

But you don’t, putting that filthy side of you to rest as you allow your husband to take what he needs. His pace quickening much like Sunghoon’s kisses do, up until you’re bouncing up with each thrust of his hips, and Sunghoon is left chasing your lips. Up, down, up, down. 

He chuckles into it, his teeth catching your bottom lip a few times before chasing your lips harder, all for Jongseong to admire from above. 

And admire it, he does. Loving the way you kiss Sunghoon in a playful way compared to himself. There’s passion here, and it makes it all the more easy for him to work himself up to his own orgasm. 

You’re not shocked at Jongseong’s silence through his own high. Pressing his hips so tightly against yours, trying to bury himself as deeply as he can go to release all of this tension inside of his body. You still feel as full as you did when they both were inside of you, but this is something entirely different. It’s Jongseong, and it still shows that he’s the one person on this Earth who knows you better than you know yourself.

He knows you love to feel his cock pulse inside of you, know you love when it dribbles down your thighs as you wobble to the bathroom, and now apparently, he knows you seem to love kissing Sunghoon through the entire experience. Clenching against his orgasm as if you were already willing to start over from the beginning. 

And just like that, he pulls out and lays on the other side of you, stealing your lips from Sunghoon briefly and kissing you. Both out of appreciation and love.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The clean up was devastating. Poor fucking Sunghoon, never realizing that aftercare is like, a huge important factor to fucking that hard. Which only solidifies it to both you and your husband that he’s clearly never been given the sexual freedom he so needed.

The two of you exchange side eyes at the way Sunghoon expects to shower alone and take care of himself, despite walking straight into a wall on wobbly legs with sleepy, mostly closed eyes. 

You help him to the shower, Jongseong allowing you to join him and clean him up as he sits just outside and waits to ultimately clean himself up this time. After all, Sunghoon was the one who fucked you senseless, the least he can do is learn how to clean up the mess and soothe your muscles. 

Fortunately, he seems to be pleased to learn and eager to put his new knowledge to use. Standing there under the warm water with a blissed out little smile, hands gently caressing your sore pussy as if to soothe your sensitivity. Obviously, it doesn’t work that way but, you still give him credit for it.

By the time you’re done showering, Sunghoon is practically dead weight. Literally fucked himself to sleep, it seems, as Jongseong laughs out and nods to the guest room, which he already made up for him. 

You help him to the room while Jongseong helps himself to shower, where puddles of water remain on the floor. 

Apparently you and Sunghoon both share the trait of not using a towel to step on after a shower. Which is only more of a reason to like him. 

Jongseong likes taking care of people. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When Sunghoon wakes up the next morning, sunlight blaring through closed blinds, his half asleep brain realizes very quickly where he is. 

He’s embarrassed again, but the content feeling in his chest replaces the heavy one he had been holding about the entire situation. He had fun. He liked it. No, he loved it. So much so that for the first time in his life, he’s needed to pass the fuck out immediately after. 

And it’s not long after he wakes up, lying there in thought, that he hears a soft knock at the door.

You’re poking your head in, blinking over at him and admiring his sleep hair. Which isn’t too different compared to his sex hair, and you smile.

“Good morning,” You say, stepping into the room and revealing Jongseong close behind you. “Wanna go again?”

Sunghoon stares at you, and then at Jongseong and his smirk. You’re both fucking insane.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

pls reblog my works ;o; if you do? i love u. if u dont? whyyyyy not?

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

And then I take both of them 🫨

DESPERATE | P.SH

REQUESTED BY ANON: can’t stop thinking about loser!hoon who is obsessed with his best friends situationship and whenever you’re around he’s stealing glances or listening to you and heeseung getting it on through the wall and beating it until you come over early one day and plan to wait for heeseung to come home when you hear him moaning your name

or the one where sunghoon just wants a sliver of that pussy pleeeeease

PAIRING: loser!sunghoon x afab reader (ft.heeseung)

WORDCOUNT: 1.9k

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ It's not that Sunghoon has feelings for you or anything, he just kind of has feelings for the whole...thing you do with Heeseung.

No strings attached wasn't a concept he really understood before he witnessed it not once, but probably upwards of fifty times by now. He'd be forced to see and hear things he was not interested in, forced to note how it truly was a situationship with no strings attached.

Who'd have thought it was possible? 

It wasn’t until maybe the tenth or fifteenth time you’d come over that Sunghoon willingly paid attention. Realizing the world of sexuality doesn’t always have to end in dating. At first, he wondered if he could ever fuck a woman that often and not feel at least a little bit for her. 

And he thinks of you when he goes over the thoughts in his head. How could Heeseung not try to lock you down? After being his roommate for several years, Sunghoon has seen women come and go, most never visiting more than once unless one manages to tame and keep his roommate for like a month and a half before suddenly a new girl comes over.

You’re the only woman who comes this often and doesn’t hold the title of a “girlfriend.” In fact, it looks like neither you nor Heeseung give much of a shit about dating or tying down the other if it doesn’t involve rope burns or messy orgasms. 

He’s intrigued, genuinely. With the way you never sleep over, with the way you knock on the door clearly without a bra and probably without panties too just to wait for Heeseung to use you. With the way neither of you care that Sunghoon sees or hears because Heeseung is too damn busy trying to get in you that he can barely make it in his own goddamn room for it. 

Really, Sunghoon felt awkward about seeing it at first but now? Oh, now he actually feels a bit annoyed when he hears a door close and those pretty moans you always have become muffled and distant. It’s not like he’s getting any, so the more real the sex is in front of him the better it feels when he ultimately gets off in a different room for you. 

Time and time again he’s considered asking Heeseung if maybe he could get a piece of that. Time and time again he’s looked in the mirror after hyping himself to ask, only to realize that he’s a total fucking loser with a cock harder than rock over the idea of tasting someone’s sloppy seconds. 

Heeseung is…a type. The type to fuck and run, the type to fuck well and walk away casually like he knows some girls may chase and still never catch up to get another taste of him. Sunghoon, on the other hand, is his own type. 

The type to fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck, until a ring is involved, until there’s expensive dates and presents, until breakfast in bed becomes a normal occurrence instead of a luxury. Until a woman somehow manages to find sweater vests and buttoned shirts all the way up to the collar somehow more attractive than the combo of ripped tight jeans, platform sneakers, and loose fitted ratty old t-shirts that Heeseung wears. 

Heeseung isn’t boring. Sunghoon is. 

So, why would he ever think he could land the same type of girl Heeseung could? Especially when Sunghoon forces feelings without intention, like? You clearly aren’t looking for anything serious. So for now? He keeps to himself, wondering how, why, where, and when he could possibly partake in such a fun activity. 

Fucking a girl and not giving a fuck about any feelings that could be involved? Can Sunghoon manage that? Would Heeseung even be willing to know his own fuck buddy is over playing with his roommate rather than him? 

Fuck if he knows. He’ll probably never find out either. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s bad. Like, bad bad. 

Sunghoon can’t even get a nut if he’s not thinking of you these days. You’ve been around for close to half a year now and it’s almost normal. Like, he even offers you water if the two of you happen to pass each other in the hallway. Sometimes you’ll even steal some bites of their dinner before you inevitably fuck Heeseing in the hallway on the way to his bedroom. 

It’s nice, but it’s not. 

Anyway, here he is. Alone. 

Another early evening session with his hand so that he can make it through the night without the thoughts of bursting out of his bedroom and joining in on the fun with or without permission. 

It’s weird, actually, for a Friday night. Usually Heeseung would be home by now. 

Usually Heeseung would be three fingers deep in you, blocking off the entirety of the apartment until Sunghoon pinpoints which areas are safe for him to occupy during the session. Usually, you wouldn’t be needing to use the spare fucking key Heeseung apparently made for you without his knowledge?!

There he is, sprawled out and thrusting up into his fist, thoughts of you, in the heat of the moment right before reaching his high when he’s typically whispering or crying out your name in desperation. Honestly? He’s a bit out of it when he notices a shift in the air and a figure at his open door. 

In all fairness, he just so happened to not get up to close his door today. He was too into it, so to say. 

For a few moments he thought maybe he really lost his mind, thrusting up harshly and tightening his fist at the image of you. Has he really gone insane to the point of fucking hallucinating the girl he wants to fuck so badly? Really? Is the that much of a fucking loser? 

Well, yes and no. 

It’s not until he’s moaning out for you again that he realizes you’re actually there, staring at him with a wicked grin and batting your eyelashes. His ears ring at the realization but his hips only chase harder, he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. 

“Awh, Hoonie–” You smile, nick-naming him with ease since you’ve grown to know him well enough. Not that it matters, considering you just heard him moan your name repeatedly. “All you had to do was ask.” 

Still, he doesn’t stop and his mind actually struggles to comprehend your words. After all, you’re speaking so casually to him, like you can’t physically see him lose his fucking mind. 

And you do see it. You watch the way his body shudders and jerks just knowing you’re here. You even see him make the attempt to stop, only for his eyebrows to furrow and his hips to fight against the stalling of his hand. 

He’s feeling too good, and you’re not feeling good enough. 

“Is Hee not home yet?” You smile, still leaning against his door frame, fingers toying with the hem of the large shirt you wore today. 

Sunghoon can’t answer, but he tries, frantically shaking his head through another guttural moan and slap of his fist hitting his pelvic bone. 

“So, then, who's gonna take care of me right now?” You offer, blinking at him and watching the way he finally gains some sort of control. 

Sunghoon goes still, his hand tired and limp as he drops it to his side and you watch his weeping cock fall flat, bubbling pre-cum out against his stomach. 

“W-What?” Sunghoon asks, out of breath with a deep tone. 

“I’ve mentioned it to him, you know?” You smile, tilting your head down to watch as you continue to play with the fabric of the t-shirt. “Asked him if you’d be interested in fucking me too–” You explain, knowing how often he’s watched and definitely listened. Because let’s be real, it would be more difficult to avoid it rather than just accepting that it’s happening. “He said you probably would be.” 

Sunghoon feels embarrassment somewhere inside of him, which is fucking insane considering only now he feels bashful. Not all all because his cock is out and he’s nearly on the brink of tears, but solely because Heeseung must know he’s desperate enough to try and fuck the same girl.

“So…” You drop your shirt, taking a step in the room. “I guess he was right?” 

Sunghoon stays frozen, no thoughts behind those empty eyes. You could move him around like a puppet right now if you wanted to, and he’d probably thank you for it. 

You’re…interested in fucking him? 

Jackpot.

When Sunghoon’s hand moves back up, grabbing his cock and forcing a wince and a pitched groan from his throat, his eyes don’t leave yours until they’re forced to. He can’t help it when they roll back, he needs to cum at this point, whether you’re being serious or not. 

His body is ignited far more than it’s ever been and the need for a release is almost painful. 

As he falls back into the spiral of sexual frustration, it isn’t long before he hears you. Closer this time, with a weight on his bed dipping. Still, he can’t open his eyes because fuck, he’s so close. 

It’s bubbling up in his gut, his muscles are tensing, your voice only heightens the feeling until– oh.

A gentle grasp replaces his frantic and rough one, your sweet, amused chuckle ringing in his ears. Sunghoon still half wonders if he’s just lost his mind to the pleasure, but he knows that grip on him is very real, and very unfamiliar. 

It’s exactly what he needs as the new pace holds his orgasm from hitting, prolonging the pleasure to near overstimulation despite having not cum yet. Sure, the whine he lets out is probably embarrassing, but he can tell you don’t mind, with the way you suddenly dip down and lick his tip.

Goddamn the shiver that runs through him. 

Is this what Heeseung gets to have all the time? All he has to do is text or call and you come over to take him this deep down your throat? 

Fuck, Heeseung will be lucky if he ever sees you again. No way in hell can Sunghoon do this. Fuck without feeling, already he thinks he’s in love with you just from the way you swallow around him like that. The way you let his hands grip your hair, the way you let him push your head down all while pressing his hips up. The way you…..like to be used?????

Oh, he’s maybe obsessed with you.

And you prolong his orgasm for as long as you can, enjoying yourself in the way he’s far more needy than the usual fuck you have in this apartment. Eventually, you lend the perfect lick before burying his cock deep down your throat, all the way until your nose is being tickled by his happy trail. There, you encourage his cum out through hums and pleasant little sounds. 

Sunghoon moans out pathetically. You feel his small, tight thrusts through each pulse, trying to bury himself impossibly deeper despite the way you choke. You knew he was gone from the moment you saw him but now? Oh, now. It’s the fact that he hasn’t noticed Heeseung casually waiting by his still-open bedroom door. You know he’s patiently waiting for his turn with you, and he’ll get it when the time comes. For now, you’re going to give Sunghoon whatever he wants.

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

I crode 😢

I'm a Virgin, Not a Murderer | Finale: If You Jump...

virgin!heeseung x sex worker!reader warnings: smut (mdni), loss of virginity (finally), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, mentions of anxiety, character death, blood, guns and violence, chase scenes, heartbreaking if you care about ynhee w.c: 18.4k finale synopsis: it's the end of the road for you, using up all your nine lives and ending your journey with confessions, hand holds, and heeseung finally popping his cherry. a/n: hi! it's finally the end of the series. personally, i have loved this fic with my whole chest and i'm glad for the love it has received. i hope this ending is up to your expectations because i spent a lot of time on it, making sure it was fulfilling even with the...ending :) hope you all enjoy! as always, reblogs, comments, likes, feedback are all welcome

chapter 3 | masterlist | END

“Don’t fucking move,” a gravelly voice from behind him menacingly says in a low tone. Heeseung feels what he can only suspect is a gun aimed towards his head, the barrel pressing coolly against his skin. The sensation is chilling yet alarming, sending an icy shiver down his spine. His body reacts to the peril, heat surging through him as adrenaline courses through his veins. 

Heeseung's heart pounds erratically in his chest, each beat echoing like a drum in his ears. His breath quickens, the air feeling thick and oppressive, suffused with tension. He risks a glance at you, standing just a few feet away, your eyes wide with terror and confusion. The sight of your fear ignites a fierce protectiveness within him, but he is acutely aware of the danger you both are in.

The gunman's presence is oppressive, his grip on the weapon steady and unforgiving. Heeseung can sense the man's breath on the back of his neck, hot and acrid, mingling with the cold metal of the gun. Every instinct within Heeseung screams at him to act, to somehow disarm the assailant and ensure your safety, but he knows that any sudden movement could provoke a fatal reaction.

Instead, he slowly puts his hands up, surrendering to the threat. “I’m just moving to the side, okay?” he tries to barter with the man like he has any hand in this game. He’s not equipped for being held at gunpoint, knives sure, you come across boys wielding them all over London, but never a gun. His inexperience is hindering him greatly in all aspects of life.

With a grunt from the man behind him, Heeseung takes a small step to the left, his eyes never leaving yours. He’s trying to communicate with you to run, to get as far away from this sudden danger as possible, yet you don’t move, shaking your head due to your own fear-ridden mind.

You’re transfixed with a wave of fear, the man finally coming into your peripheral as Heeseung moves away from you. The last thing you want right now is to be away from the boy you’ve grown so attached to, so seeing him silently beg you to leave him doesn’t register, the thought of ditching him never crossing your mind.

The man pokes his gun harshly against Heeseung’s head once more. “Turn around. Slowly.” The demand is met as Heeseung takes small, slow steps to face the aggressor. What he expects to see is a policeman, finally catching up to you both, ruining the chase-turned-honeymoon and capturing you like rabbits in a trap.

Despite the open air of the abandoned theme park, you can’t help but feel claustrophobic, the wind suddenly turning into ropes as it ties around your throat, rendering you breathless and without words as you come face to face with the man.

Before you is none other than the Brixton killer, the man who brutally murdered an innocent shopkeeper and policeman. The scene was horrific, stabbing the worker 28 times all over his chest and abdomen, and somehow stealing the arriving police officer’s gun and shooting him in the eye. He was sentenced to prison for life without chance of parole, yet after an elaborate escape plan, here he stands in front of you.

“What the fuck are you two doing here?” he asks, a grimace twisting his face as though you were ransacking his home of treasure.

Heeseung swallows hard, looking him dead in the eye. “Just…enjoying the sights,” he tries to joke, and you curse him with all the names under the sun for not reading the situation in front of him.

“Don’t get smart with me, who sent you?” the man waves the threatening pistol between Heeseung’s eyes, causing the boy to clamp shut. Sometimes he has a habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and unfortunately, this is one of those times.

He doesn’t think he has ever been this nervous or anxiety-induced in his entire life, he misses when his biggest problem was an intact V-card and handing in his dissertation.

“N-no one sent us, Sir, we swear! We just stumbled upon this place and I wanted to take a look, that’s all,” your voice is attempting to stay level but some cracks are seeping through as you fight your composure.

“Tell me the truth or I blow your boyfriend’s brains out,” he threatens, the gun pressed firmly against Heeseung’s forehead. The man is not playing around; his eyes radiate cold determination, underscoring the seriousness of his ultimatum.

You shake your head violently, eyes wide enough for the chilling wind to swoop in and create tears in your ducts. “No! No, no, no. I swear, I promise I’m telling the truth.” Full-blown panic fuels your words, your hands trembling as you hold them out in a desperate, prayer-like gesture.

It hits you that Heeseung’s life is in danger because of you. You detoured your plans all because you wanted to visit this rundown park, landing you both in the middle of a one-sided standoff. The responsibility for whatever happens now weighs heavily on your shoulders. This is just like the hotel all over again; you brought trouble to Heeseung’s door because you didn’t think. You are the reason Heeseung is running away.

You have to fix this, you have to save him.

“Please, we accidentally killed a man and now we’re on the run. I made the call to get off the bus to Troon, and that’s how we ended up here, because I wanted to see the park. Please, don’t kill him. Please, I will do anything you ask, just please don’t kill him.”

You lose track of how many times you say please, begging the man to hear your truthful side of the story. The instilled panic causes you to ramble, spewing any words that might convince the man to lower his gun and ensure Heeseung’s safety, even for a few minutes. You're so close to dropping to your knees and praying to the angels above to answer your cries.

Heeseung’s face is a mixture of shock and anguish as he listens to you. His eyes dart between you and the gunman, his mind racing to find a way out. The Brixton killer’s expression hardens, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. The grip on the gun remains steady, but there’s a momentary hesitation. He doesn’t lower the weapon, but the intensity in his eyes dims slightly.

The silence stretches, taut and suffocating. Heeseung’s hand twitches as if he wants to reach out to you, to pull you into safety. But he remains still, every muscle tensed, knowing that any rash action could end in disaster.

“You want me to believe that you and Ken over here killed someone?” He flicks his gun at you for only a moment, not believing you to be a threat. Why should he? You’re two 22-year-olds who got scared of a haunted house and almost had sex in a love tunnel while on the run from police; you’re hardly Bonnie and Clyde.

Heeseung nods slowly. “It’s true, It was an accident but now the police are after us-”

"The police? You brought the fucking police here?" The murderer tenses up again, any lapse in focus gone as he stands straight, staring at both of you with enmity and dread. “I’ve been hiding here for a week. I am not letting you little fuckers get me caught.”

His anger is palpable, his face growing redder by the second. You wish Heeseung would shut the fuck up for a moment. You cherish the boy so much and usually value anything he has to say, but he’s turning into a liability in the face of death.

You bring the man’s attention back to you, hoping to calm him again. “No, no one followed us. They have no idea where we are. We’ve been roaming the borders to keep ourselves on the down low.” Your explanation is feeble and lacks real substance, offering little reassurance of your anonymity with the police.

He assesses you, eyes narrowing as he scrutinises your features. With emotions swirling in your brain, you probably look deranged, eyes wild with threatening tears and jaw clenched tightly. Stepping closer, he moves the gun from Heeseung’s head – much to your relief – and taps his chin with it, as if trying to place where he’s seen you before. The expression of reminiscence on his face is unnerving. You’d think he could have been one of your customers, but that’s impossible. So, you meet his gaze with wary curiosity.

He sucks his teeth before nodding, as if reaching a conclusion. “You’re the motel murderer,” he smirks, his eyes losing some of their anger, replaced by something unsettling. Whatever is going through his mind, you’re thankful because he lowers his guard slightly. His grip on the gun loosens and he pouts in amusement. Both you and Heeseung let out shaky breaths, relieved as the man flicks the safety back on the pistol. Yet, you’re not out of the woods.

“You know,” he begins, tilting his head mockingly, “the news is calling you the Black Widow.” His comment stuns you, freezing the breath in your lungs. Heeseung glances at you with wide eyes, a mix of confusion and curiosity. You blink, trying to process the killer’s words. Black Widow. Why are they calling you that?

Sensing your bewilderment, the murderer continues. “They don’t believe angel face over here is still alive,” he mutters casually, pointing to Heeseung, whose expression mirrors your horror. “Papers are saying you must have forced him to kill for you and then you ate him right up.”

“That’s not true!” Heeseung exclaims, shaking his head vehemently.

“Well, clearly,” the man rolls his eyes in annoyance, looking Heeseung over. “You’ve got people defending you, saying you’re just an innocent lamb that got gobbled up by the big bad wolf.”

Goosebumps form on your skin as he drags out the second unappreciated nickname for you. You knew this would happen. A virgin with a clean track record gets involved with a sex worker and suddenly he’s part of a crime. The inevitability of being blamed for everything sinks your heart into your stomach, the acid churning with anxiety.

You couldn’t imagine hurting Heeseung now. The accusations that you coerced him into murder and then devoured him are preposterous. You’re just a girl trying to make some money and survive, not a conniving murderer.

But what you both don’t know is that back home, Heeseung’s family is defending his name, speaking praises and clearing his name quickly. Meanwhile, you have no one. Neither your brother nor your father has spoken up for you despite everything you’ve done for them. Sure, your brother is estranged and your dad would rather call you a whore to the neighbours than speak to you, but you’d hoped they knew you well enough to believe you wouldn’t murder a man and kidnap another.

The man snarls in amusement, looking back at you. “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if her plan was just that. Bring you here and kill you off on one of these rides.” He directs his gaze at Heeseung, but his sly grin is for you, indicating he’s playing a game you don’t know the rules for.

Tearing your eyes away from the man, your pupils widen with urgency and desperation. “Heeseung, I wouldn’t...”

“I know,” he replies instantly, not giving you a second to explain. He knows you better than anyone now. In the two weeks you’ve been tied to each other like handcuffs, learning everything there is to know about one another, Heeseung knows you wouldn’t hurt anyone unless you had to, let alone kill him for fun, which is what this man is suggesting.

The connection you two share is pure and real, and Heeseung will be damned if he ever thought otherwise.

Heeseung’s reassurance gives you a fleeting moment of comfort, but it is quickly shattered as the killer moves in closer. The distance between you evaporates, his presence suffocating. Heeseung’s eyes widen with fear as the man raises the gun, pressing it under your chin. The cold metal sends shivers down your spine, and you instinctively freeze, every nerve in your body on high alert.

“You know,” he drawls, his voice low and menacing, “there's a reward out for you. I wonder how much I could get off my sentence for bringing you in.” His breath is hot against your face, the smell of tobacco and stale beer nauseatingly close.

The proximity is unsettling, his eyes boring into yours with a predatory gleam. You can feel the tension in his grip, the gun pressing harder into your skin. Heeseung's face is a mixture of horror and helplessness, his hands twitching as if he wants to do something, anything, to get you out of this situation

“You must think you're something special,” the man continues, his voice dripping with contempt. “Running around, causing chaos, thinking you’re untouchable. But you're not. You're just a scared little girl who got in way over her head.”

Heeseung clenches his fists, the knuckles turning white. There's a fire igniting within him, a fierce determination to protect you no matter the cost. His mind races, evaluating the situation with the precision of someone fighting for survival. He watches the man closely, noting every detail: the way he sneers, the way his eyes flicker with malicious glee, and crucially, the fact that he hasn’t disengaged the safety on his gun.

The thought strikes Heeseung like a bolt of lightning. The man, in his arrogance, hasn’t realised the gun isn’t ready to fire. This oversight could be their only chance. Heeseung's eyes dart to you, his heart aching at the sight of you trembling, the gun pressing into your chin. He knows he has to act fast and decisively to get the brute away from you.

Gathering every ounce of courage, Heeseung shifts his weight subtly, preparing himself. His mind hones in on the plan, focusing on the back of the man’s leg. If he can just create enough of a distraction, enough of an opening, you might have a chance to escape. The killer’s attention is entirely on you, his grip on the gun tightening as he revels in his perceived power.

n one swift motion, Heeseung lunges forward and stomps down hard on the back of the man’s leg. The brute lets out a guttural shout of pain and surprise, his grip on the gun faltering. The force of Heeseung's attack sends the man stumbling backward. The sudden movement breaks his focus, and his eyes widen in shock.

You let out a breath, one you’ve been holding in since the gun was pointed at you. However, you don’t get the chance to enjoy the air as Heeseung pulls you into a tight embrace, pressing your head against his chest. His lips brush the top of your head in a tender kiss, a silent prayer of gratitude that your brain is intact and not splattered over the gravel.

The moment of relief is fleeting.

“You little shit!” the man exclaims, abruptly finding his feet and injecting a fresh wave of panic into you and Heeseung. The sheer venom in his voice sends shivers down your spine. You clutch Heeseung tighter, your fingers digging into his shirt as fear courses through you.

Before you can react, Heeseung pushes you behind him, positioning himself as a shield. The brute charges at you both, his face contorted with rage. Everything happens in a blur—there's a sickening thud, and you see the man’s gun raised high before coming down with brutal force. Heeseung tries to block the blow, but the gun's butt slams into his temple with a sickening crack.

“Heeseung!” you scream, the sound tearing from your throat as Heeseung crumples to the ground. The world narrows to the sight of him collapsing, blood trickling down the side of his face. Your heart pounds wildly, a mix of fear, anger, and helplessness overwhelming you.

“It’s Evan,” he replies, wincing as he struggles to hold up his head from the ground. The fact that Heeseung’s main concern is keeping his persona must either mean the gun rendered him dumb or he was already stupid to begin with. You hate to say it’s the latter.

You huff and stomp your feet. “Now is not the time, Hee!” you shout at him, frustration and fear mingling in your voice.

The man’s eyes narrow, his patience wearing thin. “Shut the fuck up!” he yells, waving the gun wildly between the two of you. His face is twisted in rage, eyes glinting with murderous intent.

Just as the tension reaches its peak, a distant sound pierces the air - a siren, faint but unmistakable, growing louder with each passing second. The sudden intrusion sends a shockwave of panic through all of you. The man’s eyes widen in fear and anger, the threat of capture looming over him.

The man’s face contorts with fury and desperation. He knows his time is running out. He points the gun erratically, his movements becoming more frantic. “I’ll get you cunts, I swear on it!” he snarls, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and fear.

He takes a step back, his eyes darting around as he tries to figure out his next move. The sirens grow louder, closer, the promise of prison mingling with the fear of what the man might do next. Your heart races, every second stretching into an eternity as you watch the man’s indecision.

The man takes another step back, his gaze flickering between you, Heeseung, and the approaching sirens. The conflict in his eyes is evident - he wants to finish what he started, but the looming threat of the police forces him to reconsider. With a final spit, he turns and runs, disappearing into the shadows of the park.

Heeseung groans, struggling to sit up, his face pale and bloodied. You kneel beside him, your hands trembling as you touch his face gently. “Heeseung, we need to get out of here,” you plead, your voice breaking. “Please, can you stand?”

Nodding, he holds onto your forearms, seeking comfort in your skin. You quickly wipe away some of the blood trickling into his eyes, the warm liquid smearing across your fingers and rendering your lungs useless as you forget to breathe for a moment. The sirens sound imminent now, a cacophony of urgent wails cutting through the air. Heeseung’s brain feels like it’s thumping against his skull, a sharp, persistent pain stinging behind his eyes from the blow.

“We have to go,” you whisper urgently, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. “Come on, Heeseung, we have to move.”

With a Herculean effort, Heeseung pushes himself to his feet, leaning heavily on you for support. You wrap an arm around his waist, feeling the tension in his muscles as he fights through the pain. Heeseung's steps are shaky, and his centre of gravity sways as he tries to centre himself. His eyes are unfocused, struggling to stay open, but he forces himself to move forward,

You clutch his hand tightly, your grip a lifeline as you guide him away from the scene. The abandoned theme park stretches out like a maze, shadows from the sunset twisting into sinister shapes. The fear gnaws at you, but you push it down, focusing on the need to get Heeseung to safety. Each step feels like an eternity, the weight of the moment pressing down on you both.

Glancing back, you see Heeseung wobble slightly. Your heart clenches with worry. “Are you okay?” you ask, your voice a whisper in the darkness. Heeseung nods weakly, trying to give you a reassuring smile, but the pain etched on his face betrays him.

You lead him through the overgrown paths, the weeds and debris crunching beneath your hurried footsteps. The flashing lights from the police cars cast eerie shadows across the dilapidated structures. You can’t afford to be seen. Not now, not when you’re so close to getting away. If this journey was all to end now, what would it be for?

Every few steps, you glance back, checking on Heeseung. His breaths come in ragged gasps, his face slick with sweat and blood. But he doesn’t complain. He just keeps moving, driven by the same determination that fuels you. You take a sharp turn, ducking behind a rusted old carousel. The horses’ faded eyes seem to watch you, silent witnesses to your desperate escape.

You pause for a moment, catching your breath and listening intently. The cars stop outside the main gate, but the park’s labyrinthine layout works in your favour, muffling the sounds and creating a confusing echo. You look at Heeseung, your heart aching at the sight of his battered face. “We’re almost there,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him.

Luckily, there is an old gate that leads to the forest just behind Joyland, your one-way ticket out of here. Running up to it, you see it has a rusty lock that has seen better days, making it an easy break. There is no time to waste, so you quickly kick the lock, mustering up every ounce of force you have.

“Y/N, watch yourself,” the injured boy groans behind you, his hand holding onto the wound to compress it. He feels like he wants to vomit, the paleness of his skin and the shaking of his fingers evidencing this. He is trying so hard not to pass out, knowing that you both just have to find somewhere to hide, somewhere safe.

Despite being the one in immense pain, he is looking out for you once again and it only spurs you on further to get the door open. “I almost got it,” you inform him, giving the bent metal one final kick before it snaps in half and the door swings open.

You take Heeseung’s hand and pull him through the gate, the dense forest swallowing you both in an embrace of dim sunlight. The sounds of the sirens are muted now, the thick trees and underbrush acting as a natural sound barrier. You hold Heeseung’s hand tightly, your fingers interlaced, guiding him through the uneven terrain.

Every step is a struggle for him, his breathing ragged and laboured. You glance back frequently, your eyes filled with worry, watching for any sign that he might collapse. His face is a mask of pain, but he pushes on, driven by sheer willpower. The forest is a maze of twisted branches and overgrown paths, but you press forward, determined to find a place to hide; at this point you’ll take anything - a hollowed-out tree, a dip in the ground, even that evil witch’s gingerbread house from Hansel and Gretel. 

The sun is beginning its descent, casting long, eerie shadows through the trees. The forest is painted in hues of orange and gold, a beautiful but haunting backdrop to your desperate escape. Your heart pounds in your chest, the adrenaline keeping you moving. Each rustle of leaves, each crack of a twig underfoot sends a jolt of fear through you. You know the police are close, their searchlights sweeping the park behind you. The urgency of your situation drives you on, every muscle in your body aching with the effort.

After what feels like an eternity, you spot a faint object through the trees. Relief floods through you, and you squeeze Heeseung’s hand, urging him forward. “There,” you gasp, pointing towards a cottage house. “We can hide there.”

Heeseung nods weakly, his legs barely supporting him, causing him to let go of your hand and collapse to the ground. The sudden disappearance of his hand in yours sparks alarm bells, and you quickly turn around, eyes wide with panic as you see him on his knees, clutching at his injury. The pain is evident on his face, the vibrations from the blow shaking his entire skull.

“Fuck! Heeseung,” you exclaim, your voice trembling as you bend down to lift his head up, your fingers gently brushing the blood away from his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Heeseung’s eyes flutter open, unfocused and filled with pain. Slowly and unenthusiastically, he shakes his head. “Please, Y/N, go on without me,” he groans, his voice barely above a whisper. Each word seems to cost him immense effort, and you can see the desperation in his eyes but it’s also followed by a gleam of amusement, following the script of so many movies he has watched.

You roll your eyes at his dramatic performance, trying to inject a bit of lightness into the dire situation. “Baby, don’t be so dramatic,” you chide gently, your voice laced with both urgency and affection, the nickname slipping out by accident. “Move those long legs of yours, please.”

Heeseungs eyes widen for a slit second, a large, comical smile on his face. “Baby? I’m your baby?” he asks, the head injury obviously causing him some sort of disillusionment.  

Despite the fear gnawing at your insides, you muster a small smile, hoping to give him some strength. “You can be my baby if you move,” the tone of your voice is a warning sense of playfulness but seems to do the job, Heeseung moving his body with more chutzpah.

You crouch down beside him, slipping your arm around his waist to help him up. Heeseung leans heavily against you, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He can feel your warmth, and the concern in your eyes gives him a flicker of strength. Despite his pain and slightly concussed joking, he’s determined not to let you down.

The cottage is void of cars in the driveway, much to your relief, and you take it as a good sign that no one will be home. It’s an educated guess considering you’re in the middle of piss-pot nowhere and they certainly aren’t catching the bus to work; if there are no cars, it equates to no one being home.

You hope.

Reaching the entrance, you quickly glance in the windows, just to double-check the vacancy of the property. With all the lights off and no sight of a guard dog, you can begin your search for a way in. The oppressive silence and stillness of the house suggest it has been unoccupied for some time.

“Heeseung, just wait there,” you say softly before running up the front steps. The steps are lined with an array of flowerpots, leading you to the entrance door. If movies have taught you anything, it’s that people are often foolish enough to leave keys under pots for emergencies. Frankly, you have never understood this practice yourself; it’s so cliché that if they did do it, robbers had every right to exploit their naivety.

You begin searching under the pots of sunflowers and peonies, feeling the rough terracotta and cool soil on your fingertips. Suddenly, you stumble across a singular gold key. In this moment, it might as well be Blackbeard’s treasure. The key gleams in the fading sunlight as you pick it up, waving it in front of Heeseung triumphantly.

However, instead of relief, Heeseung looks concerned through all his pain. “Y/N, we can’t just go in,” he argues, his moral compass inconveniently emerging at the worst possible time. The boy is bleeding with the police hot on his tail, and he’s worried about trespassing on the property of some affluent vacationers.

“We have to, Heeseung. You’re in a bad way, and the police will be scouring the woods as we speak. Can you just set aside your good heart for a second?” Your words are both careful and harsh, attempting to convey the severity of the situation. There isn’t time to debate the ethics of breaking and entering.

He concedes, gesturing with his hand for you to open the door, his face contorted in pain. You slide the key into the lock and swing the door open, beckoning Heeseung inside.

The interior is cold despite the summer weather. A thin layer of dust covers everything, a good sign indicating that the house has been unoccupied for some time. The foyer is quintessentially British, with tiled floors in mossy green hues and a staircase to your right, featuring a vintage wooden bannister and carpeted steps. The walls are adorned with magnolia panelling, decorated with oak-framed pictures of flowers and their meanings. An un-vacuumed Turkish rug lies on the floor, its colours dulled over time.

Heeseung makes it up the stairs, leaning on your shoulder as you admire the space. If he wasn’t concussed, he might share in your awe of the place, but right now he just needs to sit down and take some painkillers.

You lead him down the hall into a sitting room. The room is inviting and comforting, resembling your gran’s house before she passed away. Heeseung follows your guidance and sits on the couch’s armrest, taking the much-needed weight off his legs and focusing all his energy on holding his head. The bleeding has stopped somewhat, but the battering of his brain against his cranium is the real danger.

“I’m going to find some painkillers and ice. Please don’t die while I’m gone,” you joke, but your eyes reveal your seriousness.

As you head to find the bathroom, your heart pounds with anxiety. You come across a door under the stairs and open it, revealing a tiny cubicle with a toilet, sink, and a mirrored cabinet. With a flicker of hope, you reach for the cabinet, praying it holds the answer to your problems.

Unfortunately, you catch a glimpse in the mirror which reflects a sight you wish you hadn’t seen: your bangs are askew, your eyes bloodshot from stress and holding back tears, and your lips cracked from dryness. You knew the disguise would change your appearance but somehow the experience is changing you from the inside. You have never been bright and chirpy but you have never looked so dull, as though the life is being vacuumed out of you. 

Ignoring your reflection to focus on the real cause of concern, you rummage through the cabinet, your hands trembling. Finally, you find a blister pack of co-codamol amidst the old perfume bottles and bandages. The sight of it brings a wave of relief, knowing that these tiny white pills can begin the mending process.

Clutching the co-codamol tightly, you rush to find the kitchen, your footsteps echoing in the empty house. Each step feels like an eternity, your mind racing with worry for Heeseung and the fear of being caught, after all there is still a chance the police or homeowners could walk through the door any second. 

Entering the kitchen, you are struck by its quaint, rustic charm, with wooden cabinets and a checkered floor. The warm, homey feel of the room is almost jarring given your frantic state.

You fling open the freezer, desperate for ice, but there’s none. A pang of frustration hits you, but you quickly grab a bag of frozen peas, feeling their coldness through the plastic. Wrapping the peas in a tea towel, you focus on the task at hand, trying to steady your breathing. The sense of urgency is overwhelming, your mind filled with images of Heeseung's pained expression and the ever-looming threat of the police.

You fill a glass with water from the tap, watching the clear liquid swirl and fill the glass to the brim. The simple act of filling a glass feels almost surreal amidst the chaos, a brief moment of calm as the water trickles in. It’s a small respite, the sound of the water soothing your frazzled nerves even if just for a moment.

Returning to the sitting room, you find Heeseung still clutching his head. Your heart aches to see him in such agony. You hand him the co-codamol and the glass of water, your eyes filled with concern. “Take these,” you say softly. “And here’s something cold for your head.” You gently place the makeshift ice pack on his forehead, watching as he relaxes slightly under the cool pressure.

Like a mother making sure her child eats vegetables, you watch Heeseung swallow the pills with ease, desperate for the relief they will provide. The cold, crisp taste of water glides down Heeseung’s throat as he downs the glass, thankful for the quench in his thirst. In another life, he might be physically able to run a marathon, but in this one, he’d much rather stick to playing video games and leave running to the professionals.

Slowly, you take the ice pack from his head, the tea towel now embellished with his dark red blood. The wound isn’t too deep despite the blood pouring out; you could easily patch it up with some gauze and plasters.

“I’m going to get the first aid kit. I think I saw one in the kitchen,” you explain while handing him back the makeshift ice pack.

As you return to the kitchen, your emotions surge. The stress of the day, the fear of getting caught, and the concern for Heeseung all swirl within you. The quaint charm of the kitchen feels oddly juxtaposed with the turmoil in your heart. You glance up at the open cupboards and see the dark green box with the white cross on the high shelf, allowing you to let out a small sigh of relief.

Reaching for it, you accidentally knock over a ceramic mug, the crash echoing through the empty house. Your heart skips a beat, your nerves on edge. You freeze, listening intently for any signs that the noise might have somehow alerted someone of you and Heeseung’s presence, as if the fact that they would magically appear. After a tense moment of silence, you grab the first aid kit and hurry back to Heeseung.

You find him where you left him, his eyes closed as he tries to manage the pain. Standing in front of him, you open the kit and lay out the supplies on a side table which holds home to a lamp and a forgotten ashtray. The sight of the sterile bandages and antiseptic wipes brings a sense of purpose, a clear task to focus on.

Ripping open the wipe, you reach to bring Heeseung’s hand, which holds the compress, away from his head and take it from him. “This might sting a little,” you warn him as you carefully clean the wound to stop infection. Heeseung winces but never complains, knowing the more he fights it, the longer it is prolonged.

You work quickly but gently, still focusing on not applying too much pressure in case you aggravate it further. Heeseung’s eyes are focused on your face, causing you to become slightly flustered. The idea of someone watching you do something suddenly makes the task ten times harder to achieve. Your heart races, a mix of concentration and self-consciousness, the weight of his gaze adding an unexpected layer of intensity to the moment.

Heeseung smiles softly as he trains himself on you, his hands settling on your waist and pulling you closer to him. It might be the pills or the fuzziness from the head injury, but he suddenly doesn’t feel anxious to initiate the first move; it could also be that his head was between your legs earlier today.

The touch of his large hands on your waist and the feeling of his thumb stroking your hips pauses your movements, the butterflies in your chest being the only thing you can focus on. The room is silent except for the faint ticking of an old clock on the wall, each second stretching into an eternity.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice a soft rumble that sends a cluster of goosebumps over your neck and arms. His gratitude is sincere, but it brings a pang of guilt to your heart.

“Don’t thank me,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “All of this is my fault.” The weight of your words hangs in the air, a heavy cloud of regret and self-reproach.

Heeseung’s grip on your waist tightens slightly as he pulls you even closer, his hands steadying you. He cradles your face with one hand, his thumb brushing away a tear that you hadn’t realised had fallen. “No, it’s not,” he says firmly, shaking his head. His touch is gentle, his eyes filled with an intensity that makes your breath catch. “None of this is your fault.”

The room around you fades away; the only thing that exists is the space between you and Heeseung. You apply a sterile gauze pad, securing it with medical tape. Your fingers brush against his skin, sending a jolt through both of you. Every touch, every movement, feels charged with electricity, the air between you vibrating with unspoken tension.

Although Heeseung’s words should inject some reassurance into your conscience, you can’t help but think about what the media is saying about you. The thought of being labelled the "Brixton Killer" adds a whole new layer to the guilt that sits at the forefront of your mind.

Heeseung can see your mind leaping over all his affirmations like a horse at the national, causing him to pout and grab your chin. “No.”

“No?” you ask quizzically.

“No. Your brain is telling you something that isn’t true. Whatever you think you should feel guilty for, just know that you shouldn’t.”

Sucking in your bottom lip and tensing your jaw, you try your hardest to clean the blood up, hands shaking as you place the gauze on his wound and seal it tightly with medical tape. It’s hard to believe him when you’re looking at an open wound, the butterfly effect of your client attacking you.

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice a perfect harmony of pain and something deeper. Taking the medical supplies from your hand, he discards them to the side before intertwining his fingers with yours. “You’re not to blame for any of this. I have told you this a million times, and I’ll tell you a million more. You and me are in this together.”

His words hang in the air, a solemn promise that cuts through your self-doubt. Before you can respond, Heeseung leans in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss is gentle, a delicate reassurance that punctuates his sentences. It’s a kiss that says more than words ever could, a tender moment that steals away your fears and replaces them with a warmth that spreads through your chest.

When he pulls back, your thoughts are momentarily silenced by the softness of his kiss. “You know, you’re a good kisser,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the gravity of the situation.

Heeseung chuckles, the sound light and comforting. “I had a good teacher,” he replies, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. He has come a long way from first meeting you and he can’t thank you enough for never ridiculing him, showing him soft bouts of affection and lust that have helped him become stronger and more courageous to do what he wants.

You laugh, the tension easing from your shoulders. “You’re ridiculous.” His attempts to shift the mood from depressing to comfortable working instantly.

“Maybe,” he admits, squeezing your hand gently. “But if I can make you smile, it’s worth it.”

The atmosphere in the room shifts, the weight of your guilt and fear lifting slightly. The warmth of his touch, the softness of his kiss, and the sincerity in his eyes all work together to create a cocoon of safety.

Placing a final peck on your lips, Heeseung stands up and towers over you once again. “Do you think it’s safe to stay here? Just for tonight?” he asks with genuine curiosity, already hoping you’ll give him the much-desired answer of ‘yes’.

But the truth is, you don’t know. If you found this place easily, then the police could find it in an instant. There are so many traces of you that you’ve left behind: the bags on the bus, footprints in the mud and leaves, and also Heeseung’s blood at the park. If they really wanted to find you, they could.

Yet, as you look into Heeseung’s sparkling eyes, the ones that are thinking about a warm bed to spend the night in, you don’t have the heart to be honest. So you do what you think is best and fluff the question. “I think, yeah, we can, as long as we stay on alert.”

Agreeing, Heeseung smiles down at you, his joints already celebrating the prospect of a clean bed to lay on. “We’ll keep an ear out, but right now, all I want is to lie down.”

He takes your hand, pulling you gently upstairs, his steps cautious yet eager. The wooden stairs creak softly under your weight, each step resonating in the quiet house. As you reach the top, you find yourselves in a narrow hallway adorned with faded family photos and antique furniture. The atmosphere is homely and lived-in, the kind of place that feels like it has been loved and cared for over many years.

Heeseung pushes open the first door on the right, revealing a cosy bedroom. The room is small but inviting, with a large bed covered in a patchwork quilt, flanked by mismatched nightstands. The wallpaper, though slightly peeling in places, features delicate floral patterns that add to the room’s calm aesthetic. A well-worn armchair sits in one corner, next to a small bookshelf filled with old, dog-eared paperbacks.

“This will do,” Heeseung says with a contented sigh, letting go of your hand to sit on the edge of the bed. He bounces slightly, testing the mattress, and his face lights up with approval. “Oh, fuck yeah, this will definitely do.” He feels like Goldilocks when she finds the children’s bed, claiming it as her own.

“I’m going to shower,” you tell him, needing a moment to yourself. The events of the day have left you feeling grimy and in desperate need of some semblance of normalcy. Each time you’ve snuck into a motel the shower has been all but appealing with dirty water and rust; this is your chance to take a long, well-earned shower with hopefully some fancy soaps. 

You begin rummaging through the drawers of an old dresser in the corner, hoping to find something to wear for the night. To your surprise, among the neatly folded clothes, you find a set of lingerie, delicate and decidedly out of place in such a homely setting. The white silky fabric and intricate lace make it clear that this was a special purchase, perhaps a forgotten remnant of a romantic getaway. You search through the drawers again, but it seems to be the only sleepwear available.

You hold up the lingerie, raising an eyebrow at the unexpected find. Heeseung glances over, curiosity piqued by your hesitation. “What’s that?” he asks, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips when he sees the garment.

“Apparently, this is all they have for pyjamas,” you reply, your tone laced with amusement.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in actual pyjamas before, it’s like the world just wants you naked all the time.” The comment causes you both to laugh, each chuckle echoing along the patterned walls.

Turning to him, you cross your arms and arch a brow. “I think you are the only man to complain about it,” you snicker, jesting him with a slight punch of feigned hurt.

Your response makes Heeseung’s face drop, his eyelids expanding in horror. “No, no. Trust me, I’ll never complain about it. It’s just funny how it always happens like this.” His voice is earnest, and it’s cute how quickly he defends himself, scared to offend you in any way.

Waving him off, you turn back and shut the drawer, walking over to the ensuite toilet.

The bathroom is small but functional, with a clawfoot tub and a pedestal sink. The tiles are cool underfoot, and you quickly strip out of your dirty clothes, turning on the water and waiting for it to warm up. As you step under the stream, the hot water cascades over you, washing away the grime and stress of the day. You close your eyes, letting the soothing sensation calm your racing thoughts.

Back in the bedroom, Heeseung is changing into some boxers he has managed to find. They are the complete opposite of your sexy two-piece. Instead, his borrowed pyjamas are bright blue, adorned with Homer Simpson’s face and Duff beer cans. He wonders who on earth would ever purchase these never mind wear them. 

As he settles into the bed, the world outside seems distant, the immediate crisis giving way to a fragile peace. The relief from the co-codomol and the springy mattress help him alleviate some of his pain.

Heeseung reaches for the remote control on the nightstand and switches on the TV. The soft glow of the screen illuminates the room, casting flickering shadows on the walls. He flips through the channels aimlessly, searching for something to distract you both from the day's events. Just as he’s about to turn it off, a familiar face appears on the screen, stopping him cold.

It’s Jongseong, sitting in what looks like a studio set-up for a news interview. The lower third of the screen reads, "Friend of Fugitive Lee Heeseung, Park Jongseong, Speaks."

Heeseung’s breath catches in his throat, and he feels the tension ripple through his body. His eyes are glued to the screen, his expression a mix of surprise, fear, and a deep, aching sadness. 

“Jongseong?” he whispers, barely audible. He misses his best friend so much that even seeing him through the television is enough to have his soul shiver in sadness. It was one thing to think about him, it’s another to see him.

On the screen, Jongseong looks tired and worn, dark circles under his eyes betraying his sleepless nights. Heeseung can’t imagine the stress this whole situation has caused his best friend, everyone in the entire scheme knowing about their lifelong bond. Jongseong must have endured so much scrutiny once the news broke out. 

He takes a deep breath before speaking, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. “I’ve known Heeseung for all of my life,” Jongseong begins, his gaze unwavering as he faces the camera. “He’s not a criminal. He’s the most kind-hearted, loyal, and genuine person I’ve ever met. Anyone who truly knows him would say the same.”

Heeseung’s eyes well up with tears, the raw vulnerability in Jongseong’s words piercing through his defences. He swallows hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. This must be what the man that held him at gunpoint meant; his friends and family fighting to tell the world that he isn’t a murderer.

Jongseong continues, his voice cracking slightly. “I miss him. Every day that he’s gone, it feels like a part of me is missing too. If he’s out there, if he can hear this, I want him to know that he’s not alone. We’re all here, waiting for him to come home. And we know... we all know that Y/N is the cause of this.” The refusal to believe he is dead evident in his tone.

In that last sentence, Heeseung’s chest feels like a boulder is being pressed onto it, the air escaping his lungs despite just taking a deep breath. He can’t believe your beautiful name just fell from Jongseong’s lips with such disgust. He feels nauseous that it is his family who are tarnishing your name, giving the media their headlines and false accusations.

You have no one sticking up for you so you’re being painted as this venomous spider that prays on men without so much as a second glance. And yet, you couldn’t have a bigger heart if you tried.

The care you have given Heeseung, the cosmic connection between you is enough to solidify his thoughts. Just as it was back at the theme park, he doesn’t believe any bad word about you, and he’ll be damned if he starts now. You aren’t going to kill him, you aren’t going to betray him, and you certainly aren’t a criminal mastermind who plots murder.

“I don’t believe for a second that Heeseung is guilty of anything other than being dragged along in a scheme,” Jongseong says, his voice gaining strength. “Heeseung, if you’re listening, please come back. If you turn her in then all of this can be over. We miss you, and we need you. I need you.”

The news moves on swiftly to the next article but it isn’t so easy for Heeseung. He would never throw you to the wolves to save himself, not a chance in hell is he ever leaving you, not under any circumstances. When he told you that it was you and him together, he meant it with every crevice of his heart.

He hears the shower turn off and it jolts him to attention, suddenly flicks the channel as though he would get caught watching porn, or worse, Hollyoaks. The TV ends up on some gameshow where contestants try and get money by answering truth or false questions. 

Trying to act natural, Heeseung pats the area of his heart in an attempt to tame its brisk beats, not alerting you to anything he just saw. Considering you already believe that the entirety of this situation is your fault as if Heeseung also didn’t swing the finishing blow to the man’s head, the last thing he wants you to see is someone bashing your name to millions of viewers. 

Stepping out of the bathroom, you are wearing the lingerie you found and the sight of your frame prettily decorated in white causes Heeseung to swallow hard. It’s astonishing to Heeseung how you don’t even register how insanely beautiful you look right now, that look on your face puzzled as you walk towards the bed.

"What is it?" you question, slipping beneath the blankets and snuggling up next to the stupefied boy. “You’ve seen me like this lots of times.”

It’s true, he has, so he shouldn’t be so astonished that you look like Aphrodite’s spawn. Something about being able to appreciate you for every curve and stretch mark in a calm setting is enough to have him gawking like it’s the first time seeing you. 

“Yeah, you just look so…angelic in white,” he confesses, now regretting changing into the Simpson boxers; not quite as elegant.

You tuck into his side, lifting one leg over his to get comfortable, your head resting softly on his rising chest. It’s not uncommon for you to lie like this, the nights you’ve spent together often end up with you like this, trying to gain heat from one another's body as the midnight air sets in.

But now you have no excuse, this is purely for the reason to stick close to him, to feel him under you. His presence has turned into your security blanket, the one thing you need to fall asleep and forget about the problems you face.

Inhaling sharply, you watch the TV but never register its contents, your mind preoccupied. “We need a plan, Heeseung,” you murmur, your breath hitting his abs gently as he rubs your arm. “We’re going to be locked up if we’re not careful.”

Heeseung knows this, as much as Jongseong might think that coming home and handing both of you in will somehow get him off the hook, that’s not how the judicial system works. They’re still going to question him and discuss what happened that unfateful day and he would tell them the truth.

He went to an illegal prostitute, killed a man, and fled. Regardless of the fancy jargon or numerous stories about how it was self-defence, he is still guilty of murder. Plain and simple.

There is an unsettling realisation that he isn’t fit for jail. He can barely walk past a group of chavs without his asshole clenching, so in what world is he equipped to walk into prison, share a cell with a convict, and make it out alive? 

With a heaving chest, he begins to panic and his hand grips your upper arm a little tighter than normal. As you lift your head from his rising and falling chest, you see his eyes widening in realisation. “I can’t go to jail, Y/N.”

Sitting up, you begin to shake your head and refute his thoughts. “Hey, it’s okay, Hee,” you whisper, hand cradling his face with affection and assurance, “We will find a way out, I promise. After all, we’ve gotten this far.”

Your voice is unable to sound too convinced, not with the sirens haunting echoes still fresh in your mind. You know you got lucky today, escaping the law by the skin of your teeth and there are only so many chances you can have like this before the inevitable shackles of prison make their presence known around your wrists.

Heeseung isn’t listening to you, the shake of his head batting away any comforting words that spill from your mouth. “I can’t go, Y/N. They will smell the loser off me. I’m a virgin for fucks sake, they’ll notice it in a minute!” His voice is raised, eyes darting around as his brain conjures up worst-case scenarios, all of which terrify the man.

Shushing him, you try to draw his focus back to you, eyes searching into his for a chance to snag him. “Listen to me, you are not going to prison-”

“Oh course we fucking will, Y/N! You heard how many sirens were after us, not to mention they’ve probably brought extra men to help get that psycho with a gun. We are fucked.”

His interruption mixed with the change in vocabulary from ‘I’ to ‘we’ makes your own brain pulse in panic. You can sugarcoat it and tell yourself lies all you want but the fact of the matter is that there is a higher chance of getting caught than escaping. His outburst leaves you momentarily speechless, the gravity of the situation sinking in. The air feels thick with dread, every second ticking by amplifying the weight of your predicament. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm for both your sakes.

There isn’t anything you can do, Heeseung’s concerns are all valid and very much real. He isn’t meant for prison life and they will pick on him straight away. You would be okay, thinking about the years of building yourself a thick skin and strong backbone, but Heeseung is just finding his confidence, all of it will disappear as soon as he adorns the navy trousers and grey sweatshirt that bunch him with the other inmates. 

However, there is one thing you can do for him if not grant his freedom.

“Then…” you bite your lip and pinch the tips of your fingers in contemplation. “Let’s make sure you don’t go to prison a virgin.”

The words reach the panicked boy’s ears, rendering him speechless. He didn’t mean his earlier words literally, but the offer hangs in the air, a tangible and teasing proposition. He stares at you, processing the unexpected proposition, his mind momentarily distracted from the terror that gripped him.

“You don’t have to do that,” he finally whispers, his voice trembling but touched with a hint of gratitude. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just…” He trails off, his voice faltering.

Climbing onto his lap, you push the covers back and settle atop him, the thin lace and cotton of your underwear providing only a minimal barrier. Your legs trap his sides as you pull him to sit up slightly, his face now angled to meet your empathetic yet lust-filled gaze.

“If we are going to jail, whether it’s in the next week, month, or year, let’s at least spend one night that we’ll remember,” you suggest gently, your voice a mix of compassion and desire.

Heeseung’s eyes widen slightly, his breath catching as he processes your words. “But... are you sure?” he asks, his hands hesitantly resting on your hips. This, of course, isn’t your first time, but he doesn’t want you to feel obligated to do anything or force you into this because of a stupid fear he has.

You nod, your expression softening. “I’m sure. I want you so badly, Heeseung if you’ll let me?” The question comes off shy despite your hands rubbing his chest and shoulders in a subtle attempt to get him to say yes.

Heeseung's eyes soften, his reluctance giving way to a tentative smile. “I want you too,” he murmurs, his hands tightening slightly on your hips, his fingers creating indents in your skin.

When he first came to you, he just wanted to get fucked and have it over and done with, but now that he knows you and your heart, he doesn’t see it as a conquest he must defeat in honour to progress into adulthood. No, now he sees it as giving himself to the one person he worships, the journey you have both been on finally giving him the clarity to understand what he wants. You.

Although he made a point to express his concerns about being a virgin in prison, he didn’t really mean it the way you took it. Sure, it’s a worry for him, but prison is in general. Deep in his heart, he knows that the real cause of his worry is the fact that he could go his whole life without ever giving himself to you completely, never knowing what you feel like or how your bodies move with one another. You are the romance-induced first time he has been saving himself for and he can’t believe it’s about to happen.

You lean in, your lips brushing against his in a tentative kiss. It starts gentle, a soft melding of mouths that slowly deepens as Heeseung responds, his hesitation melting away. Your tongues meet, exploring each other with a mixture of curiosity and growing desire. The kiss intensifies, becoming more urgent, and more demanding, as the need for closeness overwhelms you both.

Heeseung's hands slide from your hips to your back, fingers dancing along your spine. He fumbles slightly, his nervousness evident as he tries to unhook your bra. You smile against his lips, reaching back to help him unclasp it and let it fall away, revealing your breasts. His eyes widen, a mixture of awe and uncertainty as he takes in the sight of you.

God, has he missed these tits. 

“Do what you want Heeseung. I’m yours for tonight,” you whisper into his mouth as you ghost your lips over his, the lack of contact only causing him to whimper out.

Heeseung swallows hard as he uses his hands to massage your breasts, littering them with gentle kisses. His touch tentative but growing bolder as you encourage him. Your fingers find the waistband of his selected underwear and you giggle as you finally take in the sight of them. Embarrassed but determined, Heeseung lifts his hips, allowing you to pull his comical boxers down in one swift motion, freeing his erection.

You shift slightly, positioning yourself to straddle him more comfortably. The thin barrier of your lace panties feels almost painfully teasing against his hardness. One of Heeseung’s hands moves to your waist, his touch both gentle and possessive as he helps you slide your panties down your legs, his other hand rubbing his thumb over your nipple like it was a button on his much beloved Sega Mega Drive. 

You kick them aside, fully naked now, and press yourself against him. Heeseung’s breath hitches as your bodies align, his erection pressing insistently against your wet folds. You kiss him again, more fervently this time, your tongues tangling as the intensity between you builds.

One of Heeseung’s hands slides between your legs, fingers parting your folds and finding your clit. He rubs slow, deliberate circles, drawing a moan from your lips. You break the kiss, resting your forehead against his as you pant softly, your hips rocking into his hand.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly with a hint od desperation as he seeks your approval.

“Just like that,” you murmur, guiding his hand to the right spot, helping the virgin out just slightly. “Keep going.”

His fingers trail lower with your guidance, teasing your entrance before one slips inside, eliciting a shuddering gasp from you. He moves with exquisite slowness, each thrust of his finger deliberate and careful, as if savouring the feeling of you around him. 

You can’t see it due to your eyes closing and losing yourself to his touch but he is holding in his breath, all the new feelings and sensation beginning to overwhelm his senses. It was one thing to see a vagina in the flesh, his mouth tasting you so deliciously only hours before, but for any of his body to be inside of you, even his fingers, might send him into overdrive. It’s warm and not what he was really expecting, though, he didn’t go in with much of a clue to begin with.

If there is one thing books and porn have taught him it’s to start slow and work his way up to thrusting his fingers into you with verocity. He feels around, exploring you and your walls to gage a reaction. In some cases you wince from a shot of uncomfort, other times you let out a low moan followed by an array of profantities. 

Once he finds his rhythm and is confident enough, he adds a second finger, curling them slightly to press against that sweet spot inside you, his palm pressing against your clit. Instinctively, you grip his shoulders and begin to ride his hand, using him to chase your release.

“Fuck,” your breath comes in ragged gasps as he works you closer to the edge. The pressure builds steadily, a coil of heat tightening in your belly with each stroke of his fingers. Your hips move of their own accord, seeking more of the delicious friction he provides. “Heeseung,” you moan, your voice trembling with need. “I’m close…”

He looks up at you, eyes filled with a mixture of concern and desire. “What should I do?” he asks, his voice shaking. 

“Faster,” you urge, guiding his hand with yours. “Just a little faster.”

Heeseung follows your instructions, increasing the pace of his fingers and pressing more firmly against your clit. The knot inside you tightens further, until it snaps, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You cry out, your body trembling as the orgasm washes over you, gripping his shoulders for support.

Heeseung watches you with a blend of awe and desire, his fingers slowing but not stopping as he helps you ride out the aftershocks. When you finally come down from the high, you collapse against him, your breath coming in shallow pants.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers, realising that you’ve come undone thanks to him for the second time that day, his inexperience never being the hinder that he once thought it was. This orgasm was a little more shattering to your body though, the desperation in your subtle grabs to his skin telling him that you were taken to heaven and back and desperately seeking more.

You kiss him again, softer this time, a tender meeting of lips as you both savour the intimacy of the moment. But the need for more still burns within you, and you can feel Heeseung’s erection pressing insistently against your thigh.

Without breaking the kiss, you lift your hips, reaching down to guide him to your entrance. “Let me take care of you,” you whisper, positioning him at your entrance. “Are you ready?”

Heeseung nods, his breath hitching in his throat as his Adam’s apple bobs with the swallow of dry air. This is it, he is finally losing his v-card, and to someone he cares so deeply about. You will never understand the rush of emotions coursing through him as you hover over his length, waiting for consent to take him. You are about to give him his dream, the one he harbors in his heart; not losing his virginity, but being in love.

He thought it before but now it’s so clear to him. All this time you’ve spent with one another, each late-night conversation, opening up to one another in ways only lovers do, and the constant tension of something more underneath the surface level partners in crime you often refer yourselves as. It was all a timeline to falling in love. He doesn’t know if you feel the same, perhaps it’s too fast for you and it’s just his innocent heart that is jumping the gun, but he is so sure of his feelings towards you.

There is no one else in the universe he would rather lose his virginity to.

“I’m ready,” he utters, the thumping in his ears caused by his ear creating a backing track to his confirmation. “I’m so ready, Y/N.” The gleam of pride in his eyes takes you aback for a moment, the words kissing your heart with trust. “Do you have a condom?” 

“No,” you pant out in regret and irritation, the conversation prolonging the feeling of his shaft plugging your pussy up so beautifully. “But I got the implant when I started doing this as an extra precaution, just in case the condom didn’t work.” 

The explanation puts the boy at ease, knowing that there is no need to worry about adding a baby to this madness of a predicament you’re in. Nodding, he silently tells you that he is okay to go once again, inhaling deeply as you line him up with purpose.

As you slowly sink down onto him, both of you gasp at the sensation. You move with deliberate slowness, allowing your bodies to adjust to the feeling of being so intimately joined. Heeseung has never felt something so incredible in his life. Your walls are stretching in real time around him, accommodating his thick size with ease, your juices from earlier acting as a natural lubricant.

Heeseung’s eyes flutter shut, a soft moan escaping his lips as he feels you envelop him inch by inch. Every nerve ending in his body is alight with sensation, the warmth and tightness of you overwhelming his senses. His hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he tries to steady himself against the flood of pleasure.

“Y/N,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper, filled with awe and disbelief.

You smile down at him, your own breaths coming in shallow pants. “You feel so good, Heeseung,” you murmur, your voice husky with desire. You feel honoured to be the first cunt wrapped around the boy’s cock, the feeling of him invading your tight hole and the way his prominent veins add another layer to the pleasure is outstanding causes your eyes to roll back.

It’s not like you haven’t had a cock like Heeseung’s before but for some inexplicable reason, his is erasing every feeling of the others. If this did happen on that fateful first meeting, you wouldn’t have charged him at all, the pleasure you are feeling right now would be enough of a payment.

Heeseung’s breath catches in his throat as you begin to move, a slow rhythm that sends shivers of pleasure up his spine. Each movement is deliberate, a dance of passion and trust as you guide him through this new experience. Your hips grind against his, making his cock rock inside you, each movement sending waves of sensation through both of you.

“How does it feel?” you ask, your voice a seductive purr as you continue to ride him.

Grunting at your movements, Heeseung quickly nods, his eyes wide with an overwhelmed sensation. “Fucking unreal,” he manages to choke out, his voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. He has to apologise to his teenage self for denying him this simple pleasure while his friends were getting their socks rocked.

Your lips curve into a satisfied smile at his response, your fingers splaying across his pecks as you bounce rhythmically on his cock. “I’m glad,” you murmur, your voice dripping with sensuality. “You feel amazing, Heeseung.”

Heeseung moans softly as he tries to keep up with your pace, bucking his hips sloppily, becoming erratic and lacking a consistent pace - not that you mind, you don’t expect him to be fucking you with the skill of a pornstar. The main thing is that he is enjoying it, and by the strangled whimpers and ‘fucking hell’ that leaves his lips every other second, you’re assured that he is.

But this is about teaching him and letting him learn the art of fucking. “Heeseung,” you whisper, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I want you to do something for me.”

Heeseung’s gaze is filled with trust and anticipation. “Anything,” he breathes.

“Let me guide you,” you say softly, your hands moving to cup his face. “Follow my lead, okay?”

Heeseung nods, his eyes wide with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. “Okay,” he agrees, his voice trembling slightly.

You start to move again, slower this time, your hips setting a steady rhythm. “Match my pace,” you instruct, your voice gentle but firm.

Heeseung tries to follow your movements, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. At first, his rhythm is clumsy, his thrusts too quick or too slow. You can feel his frustration building, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he struggles to find the right pace.

“Relax, Heeseung,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss him softly, instilling reassurance into him that taking his time to learn isn’t going to ruin the moment. “You’re doing great. Just feel it.”

Heeseung takes a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. He concentrates on your rhythm, his body gradually finding a better sync with yours. The clumsiness begins to fade, replaced by a more confident and deliberate movement.

“That’s it,” you encourage, your voice a breathy moan as you feel him moving more smoothly inside you. “Just like that, fuck.” You drop your head as the tip of his cock hits just the right spot, kissing your cervix tenderly.

Heeseung’s eyes light up with a mix of relief and pleasure as he hears your words. His hands move to your waist, guiding you as you ride him, his thrusts becoming more confident and sure. The sensation of him filling you with each thrust sends waves of pleasure through your body, your moans growing louder with each movement.

Every thrust brings a gasp or a moan from him, his body responding eagerly to your touch. He feels a mix of sensations - pleasure, awe, a hint of disbelief that he’s finally experiencing this with you. You lean down, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing together in sync with the rhythm of your bodies. Heeseung kisses you back with equal fervour, his need for you evident in every touch and every movement. 

“I never imagined it could feel like this,” he admits between kisses, his voice rough with desire. “Being with you, it’s everything.”

Your heart swells with affection as you feel him opening up, allowing himself to be vulnerable with you in this intimate moment. You continue to move, your hips rolling against his in a steady, hypnotic rhythm. The room is filled with the sounds of your combined breaths, the slick slide of your bodies, and the soft, wet noises of your connection.

“You feel so good,” you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him harder. “So, fucking perfect.”

Heeseung’s breath hitches, a whimper escaping his lips at your words. If he wasn’t lost in the feeling, he would ask if he was being a good boy. His eyes lock onto yours, a mixture of awe and desperation in his gaze. He can feel himself getting closer, the tight coil of pleasure in his belly winding tighter with each thrust. His hands roam over your body, one moving to your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple, sending a fresh wave of pleasure through you.

Feeling a surge of confidence and an overwhelming urge to please, Heeseung leans forward, his lips parting as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. The sensation is electrifying, a new layer of intimacy that sends shivers down your spine. His mouth is warm and eager, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before sucking gently. He hums around your nipple, the vibration adding to the pleasure that courses through your body.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, your head falling back as you give in to the sensation. Your fingers thread through his hair, holding him close as he continues his ministrations.

Heeseung’s thoughts are a whirl of sensation and desire. He’s hyper-aware of every reaction he elicits from you, the way your body responds to his touch, the sounds you make as he lavishes attention on your nipple. He’s never felt anything so intimate, so deeply connected, and it drives him to please you even more.

His tongue flicks over your nipple before he sucks it back into his mouth, his lips creating a tight seal. He alternates between gentle sucks and firmer pulls, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh just enough to make you gasp. The sensation is a perfect blend of pleasure and a hint of pain, heightening your arousal to an almost unbearable level.

Heeseung’s free hand moves to your clit, clumsily finding it after a few seconds to give it some well-deserved attention. The dual sensations make your hips move more urgently, grinding down onto him as your climax approaches.

“Y/N, I’m so close,” he moans against your breast, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He didn’t want to bust a nut quickly and has been holding back as long as he can, determined to make sure this was a good experience for you.

“Me too,” you whisper, your own climax building with every movement. “Don’t hold back, Heeseung. Let go with me.”

With a final, powerful thrust, Heeseung cries out, his body tensing beneath you as he finds his release. The sensation of him pulsing inside you triggers your own climax, and you cry out his name as waves of pleasure crash over you. You collapse against his chest, both of you trembling as you ride out the aftershocks together.

As the intensity of the moment fades, you lie there in each other’s arms, your breaths gradually slowing. Heeseung holds you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively as you both savour the aftermath of your passion. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and sex, but also with a newfound sense of closeness and adoration.

Looking up at him, you smile lazily, tiredness taking over your limbs from the excitement of today and the fucking. “Well, how does not being a virgin anymore feel?”

“It feels,” he pauses, gathering his thoughts as they fight through his post-orgasm haze, “fucking unbelievable.” Heeseung places a soft kiss on your sweaty forehead and inhales your scent, enveloping his senses with you. His gestures are so loving and tender that you feel a ping in your heart, the same kind that you get when you eat your favourite meal or hear the song that gives you butterflies when it comes on the radio.

It feels like home.

“Thank you for letting me be your first,” you pout, kissing his sticky chest. Your lips press against the salty sheen of sweat on his skin, the taste mingling with the lingering sweetness of the moment.

Heeseung’s heart swells at your words, his eyes softening as he looks down at you. “I should be thanking you, Y/N. I am so happy that it was you I had this experience with.” His admission is heartfelt and pure, his voice trembling slightly with emotion.

You can see the depth of his feelings in his eyes, the way they shine with awe and adoration. It’s a look that makes your own heart flutter, the connection between you feeling even more profound in the aftermath of your intimacy. 

Feeling safe and secure despite circumstances that loom on the horizon, you lay your head back on his chest, settling in for the night. You don’t want to move, your body is too spent to care about peeing or your dead weight is making Heeseung uncomfortable. None of it mattered as sleep pulls you in.

“Y/N?” 

“Yeah…”

“I love you.”

Your heavy breathing fills the room, indicating your lulled state. He doesn’t know if you heard his confession but Heeseung doesn’t mind, he just had to get it off his chest, never wishing to keep his feelings from you ever.

“Good night, baby,” the nickname escapes his lips but it feels so right, everything about this moment feels right. Heeseung’s fingers trace lazy patterns on your back as he closes his eyes with a smile on his face, his heart relaxed for the first time in weeks.

He wishes every day could be as good as this one.

_____

Startled awake by an incessant crowing outside the bedroom window, Heeseung jerks up, his body relaxed but his mind still on semi-high alert. The sun's early morning rays filter through the thin, floral curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the quaint cottage bedroom. Dust particles float lazily in the warm light, adding a touch of magic to the peaceful scene. This is the best night’s sleep he has had, not just since you two began this wild chase, but in the past few years. The bed is a cosy nest of crumpled sheets and soft blankets, the scent of last night's intimacy lingering in the air.

Heeseung stretches, feeling the pleasant ache of spent passion in his muscles - even his head feels a million times better after the beating it took yesterday. His heart swells with a mix of pride and joy as he recalls the events of the night before. Losing his virginity this way wasn’t what he expected, but it was everything he wanted. There was a raw, unspoken connection between you both, an intimacy that transcended mere physicality.

Your heart was in it; he could feel it in the way you whispered affection and clawed at his body. There's a pride swelling within him, knowing there’s a high probability that this is the first time you’ve had sex that wasn’t just for survival or a quick cash grab. Last night was different - there was love between you, plain and simple. You didn’t have to say it or even hear his confession to know what it was. The way you both kissed one another as if the world meant nothing when you had each other, the way your bodies connected in a manner some lovers could only dream of.

Heeseung wishes that all of this were under different circumstances, as he always has, but something tells him that, in some whacked-out way, the universe would have put you together no matter what. The room around him is a testament to simpler times, with its rustic wooden furniture, a small dresser topped with a chipped vase of wildflowers, and a single, worn armchair in the corner. 

Turning his upper body to look at you sleeping, the serenity in his chest quickly vanishes and panic arises from the pit of his stomach. You aren’t there lying peacefully, basking in the morning sun like you should be.

His heart bumps against his rib cage as his mind settles on the worst possible scenario. Frantic, Heeseung clambers around the room, searching for any clue as to where you could have gone. In motels you’ve previously visited, you always left a note to say you’d gone to grab some food or ice, but this time there is nothing but a few strands of your hair decorating the pillow where your head should still be resting.

Rolling off the bed, Heeseung quickly grabs his boxers and puts them on, making his way around the house in search of you. The cottage bedroom, once a sanctuary, now feels ominous and empty. He glances around, his eyes darting over the rustic wooden furniture and the small dresser topped with a chipped vase of wildflowers. The morning sun, which had moments ago seemed warm and inviting, now casts long, eerie shadows.

“Y/N?” he shouts loudly, enough to wake every bird and hibernating bats in the vicinity. His voice echoes through the small cottage, mingling with the distant crowing of the rooster.

His mind races with terrifying possibilities. He thinks about how you could have been snatched in the night, but that doesn’t make sense—he would have felt that or heard you scream. Maybe you went for some fresh air and got caught by the police; they might have snuck up on you and cuffed you right there and then. But wouldn’t they have raided the cottage for him too?

Then his face pales, and he stops in his tracks. What if that psycho got a hold of you? He ran in the opposite direction, but that doesn’t mean the psycho couldn’t have made his way in a circle right to this house. What if he had the same idea and wanted to camp out here, and you just happened to be in the kitchen making some tea when he found you? What if he…

Sickness forms in Heeseung’s throat as he dashes to the kitchen, trying to dispel the horrific final “what if” from his mind. The cosy cottage now feels like a labyrinth of dread, every creak of the floorboards amplifying his fear.

“Baby?” he yells again, terror ripping through his vocal cords. “Y/N, please answer me.”

The kitchen, with its quaint, mismatched dishes and the faint smell of musk and nostalgia offers no comfort. Heeseung's eyes frantically scan the room, hoping to find you safe and sound, but the emptiness only feeds his growing panic. His breath comes in short, desperate gasps as he clutches the edge of the wooden countertop, his knuckles white with tension.

Y/N!” His voice cracks with despair, echoing through the silent house. Heeseung’s mind is a whirlwind of fear and helplessness, each passing second feeling like an eternity as he waits for any sign of you. The world outside, with its serene sunlight and gentle breeze, seems cruelly indifferent to his agony.

Suddenly, he feels a hand on his arm, and he whips around instantly.

Your face looks up at him with wonder and concern. “Hey, hey. I’m here, Heeseung,” you say calmly, hoping the soft dulcet tone of your voice can reduce the evident panic coursing through his veins.

Instantly, he hugs you tight, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other wraps firmly around your waist. His nose digs into your scalp as his lips press softly against your cranium as if he needs all his senses to be alerted to your sudden appearance - the only way to calm his unsettled heart.

“Heeseung,” you murmur into his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart against your cheek. “What’s wrong, what happened?”

Heeseung doesn’t respond immediately, just holds you tighter, his breath ragged and heavy with relief. The warmth of your body against his, the familiar scent of your skin, and the steady rhythm of your heartbeat begin to soothe the storm inside him. Gradually, the tension in his muscles eases, and his grip loosens just enough to look down into your eyes.

“I thought… I thought something happened to you,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. The morning light highlights the tears glistening in his eyes, a stark contrast to the fear that had consumed him moments before.

You reach up and gently wipe away a tear that has escaped down his cheek. “I’m here. I’m safe,” you reassure him, your fingers lingering on his face. “Nothing bad can happen to me when I’ve got you, yeah?”

Balancing on your tiptoes, you place a tender kiss on his dry lips, trying to instill in him some comfort that you are fine and alive. To be honest, if it were he who had disappeared without a trace, you would probably be in an even worse panic than he is.

The kiss is charged with a cocktail of emotions, lips neatly brushing one another as you both fall into an equanimity that is desperately needed in this moment of uncertainty. The tension around his shoulders fades as he melts into your touch, the fear and anxiety dissipating with each passing second.

Heeseung’s arms tighten around you, pulling you closer as if grounding himself in your presence. The taste of salt from his tears mingles with the warmth of the kiss, creating a poignant mix of relief and love. You feel his breath hitch, then gradually steady, synchronizing with your own.

When you eventually draw back, your foreheads touch. The world outside continues its peaceful morning, the calm wind and soft natural light now serving as a soothing backdrop rather than a harsh contrast.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” you whisper, your breath mingling with his. “I should have left a note like usual but there is not a pen or paper in this house, can you believe it?.”

Heeseung shakes his head slightly, his eyes still closed, savouring the closeness. “No it’s okay, I’m just glad you’re here,” he murmurs. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.”

You smile softly, cupping his face in your hands. “You won’t. We’re in this together, remember?”

Heeseung nods, finally opening his eyes to look into yours. There’s a depth of gratitude and love in his gaze that warms you to your core. “Yeah, together,” he echoes, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “Where did you go?”

Absentmindedly, you reach up to the gauze on his head and peel it off, inspecting the wound as you explain your absence. “I was looking for a route out of here. And to see if the place is still teeming with police.” 

You grab a clean washcloth from the sink and wet it, gently dabbing the dried-in blood away. The gash looks better, although still open, a protective layer of skin is forming over it. It’s fragile and one rough knock could re-open it, but for now, it’s okay. You tell him to wait there while you grab the first aid kit from the sitting area before returning, setting out to apply a new gauze.

Once you clean his wound with the antiseptic wipe, which hurts considerably less than last night, Heeseung speaks up. “And? Is there a way out of this or are the police everywhere?” He isn’t a fan of you going out there on your own but he won’t dwell on it since you’re back here in his arms. His hands settle on your hips as his thumbs stroke your skin, craving contact with you as much as possible.

He doesn’t know if it was the idea of losing you or the sex that makes him crave your skin on his, but he won’t complain either way, and neither will you.

“There are sirens, faint but they are there,” you begin to explain, your voice disheartened, “I think I found a way out though.”

Heeseung’s eyebrows raise and his hands grip your hips slightly, a mix of curiosity and relief. “Oh?”

“Yeah, there is a dock not far from here, maybe about an hour away. It carts goods from Ayr to Dublin around lunchtime, if what I saw was right. We could sneak on it and get the fuck out of the UK, at least until we come up with a solid plan.”

It’s not foolproof and there are more cons than pros, but any minute, the police could come banging on this door and you’re sure as hell going to get caught then.

Heeseung’s shoulders slump as he processes this new information. “It’s risky, but we don’t have many options,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of doubt. Finding none, he nods resolutely. “Alright, let’s do it. But we need to be careful. One slip and it’s over.”

You nod in agreement, your mind already running through the logistics. “We need to move fast and quietly, the only way to the dock is through the woods and that’s exactly where the police are still looking.”

Heeseung gives a small, determined smile, his hands still tracing soothing patterns on your hips. “I’ll follow your lead,” his voice is low and assured. He really does believe there is nothing he can’t do as long as you’re beside him.

As you finish dressing his wound, you can’t help but feel a surge of determination. The bond between you has only grown stronger through this ordeal, and you’re resolved to face whatever comes next side by side. You share a final look, a silent promise to protect each other at all costs, before you start making preparations to leave.

“Okay, let’s go.”

_____

The woods is much easier to navigate in the middle of the day, however, it does make it easier to be spotted.The woods are much easier to navigate in the middle of the day, but the bright sunlight filtering through the canopy also makes it easier for them to be spotted. Heeseung and you move cautiously, stepping over roots and ducking under low-hanging branches, every sense heightened by the urgency of the situation. The dense foliage provides some cover, but the occasional break in the trees sends your hearts racing as you dart across open patches of sunlight.

The forest floor is a mix of damp earth and fallen leaves, each step a muffled crunch that both reassures and unnerves you. Birds chirp overhead, their songs a stark contrast to the tension thrumming through your bodies. The scent of pine and fresh moss fills the air, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of Heeseung’s dried blood.

You take the lead, your eyes scanning the path ahead for any signs of danger. Heeseung follows closely, his hand occasionally brushing against your back, a silent reassurance that he’s right there with you. The two of you communicate through subtle gestures and quiet whispers, knowing that any loud noise could draw unwanted attention.

In the distance, the faint wail of sirens echoes through the trees, a chilling reminder of the police presence. You exchange a worried glance with Heeseung, both of you quickening your pace. The sirens grow louder, a relentless reminder of the danger closing in behind you.

“We need to move faster,” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the rustling leaves.

Heeseung nods, his expression determined. “Stay close.”

The woods stretch out before you like a labyrinth, each turn and twist another gamble. You rely on your instincts, hoping they guide you true. The sun is high now, casting dappled shadows that dance across the forest floor. Sweat beads on your forehead, both from the exertion and the stress of being pursued.

Every so often, you pause to listen, straining to hear any signs of movement behind you. The sirens are still there, but they seem to be moving parallel to your path, not directly toward you. It’s a small relief, but you know you can’t let your guard down.

As you navigate a particularly thick patch of underbrush, you catch sight of a flash of blue through the trees. You freeze, grabbing Heeseung’s arm to stop him. You both crouch low, peering through the foliage. In the distance, you can see police officers moving methodically through the woods, their uniforms stark against the green backdrop.

“Shit,” Heeseung breathes, his grip on your arm tightening.

You nod, your mind racing. “We need to divert. There’s a stream nearby, if we can reach it, we might be able to throw them off our scent.”

Heeseung agrees without hesitation, and you change direction, angling toward where you remember the stream to be. The terrain becomes more challenging, the ground uneven and littered with fallen branches. You navigate as quietly as possible, mindful of every step.

The sound of rushing water grows louder, a hopeful sign that you’re on the right track. The stream appears ahead, a narrow but fast-moving ribbon of water cutting through the forest. You approach it cautiously, checking the area for any signs of the police.

“We’ll follow it downstream for a bit, then cross over,” you suggest, eyeing the opposite bank.

Heeseung nods. “Good plan. Let’s go.”

ou move quickly along the stream’s edge, the cool air off the water a welcome relief against your heated skin. The babble of the stream helps mask the sound of your footsteps, providing a small sense of security. After a few minutes, you find a shallow spot and carefully wade across, the cold water biting at your ankles.

On the other side, you pause to catch your breath, listening intently. The sirens are faint now, almost drowned out by the sound of the stream. It seems the police have moved further away, at least for the moment.

Or so you think.

Unbeknownst to you, two police officers are intently studying the footsteps you’ve left behind, following the trail with determined precision. They move swiftly through the underbrush, their eyes scanning the ground and the surroundings with practised ease.

“Over there!” one officer whispers urgently to his partner. They pick up their pace, pursuing you with renewed determination.

From their vantage point, they catch a glimpse of you and Heeseung through the trees. They see you clasp hands and begin to run, your figures darting through the forest like shadows.

Heeseung and you run up the forest, hearts pounding in sync with your hurried footsteps. Every muscle in your body is screaming for you to stop, but fear propels you forward. The forest becomes a blur of green and brown, the terrain treacherous with roots and fallen branches. You focus on not tripping, your breaths coming in ragged gasps.

The officers aren’t as nimble and light on their feet as you two are, and you take every opportunity to duck behind trees and try to lose them amongst the branches and foliage. It’s difficult but you create some distance for a minute, never letting up on your track race speed.

Your heart is beating, blood boiling, and head spinning as your legs move on their own. This is it. You think to yourself about how you made such a great deal last night about knowing you would be caught and how you could accept it. But now that the moment is actually here, you’re terrified.

There isn’t a part of you that is ready to be locked up. You’re so young and this was all a misunderstanding, if you just explained it to them, maybe you could get a light sentence. It’s not your fault that the man came in and tried to choke you to death, you had to set boundaries and that’s more than okay, isn’t it?

But the law won’t see it that way. Of course, they won’t, because to them, you’re lower-class trash. That man was highly respected by his family and peers, and you’re just a lowlife prostitute who ruins marriages. You have never seen yourself that way, but this is exactly how the media are painting you out to be. In their eyes, you’re a villain, a scourge. There is no saving yourself from this.

As you slow down, you see the ground before you vanish, patches of brown and green turning into nothing but air. You’ve hit a dead-end, stuck between the relentless pursuit of the police and a deep, yawning cliff that there is no way down from.

Heeseung, a few steps behind, sees you slow down and quickly catches up, his head shaking violently. “Come on, baby, we need to go,” he urges, his voice filled with panic and desperation. Your stuttering steps finally stop, causing his eyes to widen, wondering why on earth you are pausing in the middle of a high-paced chase.

“We’re trapped.” Your voice trembles, eyes distant as you stare into the abyss of the cliff.

Heeseung’s eyes follow yours, and his heart drops. The cliff before you is a sheer drop, the ground simply vanishing into a void of jagged rocks and certain doom. The wind howls up from the chasm, a stark reminder of the peril you face. Behind you, the sounds of the police grow louder, the shouts and rustling foliage a testament to how close they are.

Heeseung pulls you close, his grip on your hand tightening as if he can tether you to safety through sheer will. The forest around you seems to close in, the trees now silent witnesses to your desperate situation. The sky overhead is a bright blue, mocking you with its serenity while chaos reigns on the ground.

“Maybe…maybe we can climb down,” Heeseung suggests, his voice strained, but even as he says it, he knows how impossible it sounds. The cliff face is almost vertical, with only the slightest hint of a path that could easily crumble underfoot.

You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “There’s no way. We’ll fall.”

Heeseung looks back toward the forest, where the shadows of the police are closing in. Their voices are distinct now, every word a nail in the coffin of your dwindling hope. You can hear the commands faintly, the urgency in their tones as they coordinate their approach.

You move away from the cliff, looking up at your partner. “I’ll hand myself in.” 

Heeseung almost chokes on his shock as he hears your words. “What the fuck are you talking about?” He isn’t one to swear at you, not unless he is truly riddled with dread or panic, the curse words slipping easily into his vocabulary due to the cloud in his brain. Sometimes, it is truly the only way to express himself.

“It should give you some time to run. The dock is like 10 minutes away from here, and the boat leaves in 20 minutes. If you run now-”

The words hang heavy in the air, each syllable echoing with the weight of impending separation. You can see the conflict raging behind Heeseung's eyes, the turmoil of wanting to protect you conflicting with the reality of their dire situation. He hesitates, his hands trembling as they cup your face, the touch both gentle and desperate.

“If you think for a second I’m leaving you behind, you’re delusional, Y/N.” His voice cracks, betraying the raw emotion coursing through him. “After everything you’ve done for me? I am not letting you face this alone.”

Your heart clenches at his words, at the fierce determination in his gaze. Tears well up in both your eyes as you stare at one another, each of your souls clinging to the love that is passing through you. There is a commitment between you that most married couples don’t even have; it’s an honour to be loyal and devoted to one another the way you have been.

“Heeseung, please,” you plead, your voice breaking under the weight of your decision. “If they catch us both, it’s over. At least one of us has to make it. You need to live a free life, not one behind bars.”

Heeseung’s jaw tightens, his resolve hardening even as his heart breaks. “No. We’re in this together, no matter what. I promised you, didn’t I? I promised I’d never leave you.”

His words pierce through the chaos around you, anchoring you in the reality of your love. You reach up, covering his hands with yours, feeling the warmth and strength that has always been there for you.

“Heeseung,” you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and adoration. “You’ve been my everything since I’ve known you. You followed me through all of this and I couldn’t be more grateful. But I can’t bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me. Prison isn’t a place for you.”

“And I can’t bear the thought of living without you,” he replies, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ve fought so hard to stay together, to protect each other. I won’t let it end like this. I don’t care what we have to do, I won’t let them take you away from me.”

He knows deep down that if you both get caught, there is a chance he can escape this if the news last night is anything to go by. Jongseong is painting him in a firmly good light, he could get away with this, possibly make them see his side. 

But what life could he live knowing that you’re rotting away in jail for a crime that was completely justified? He could fight your corner but people would just presume it was stockholm syndrome or something else ridiculous, never understanding that he chose this with you, even after you gave him a million chances to leave.

The sirens grow louder, the policemen’s voices are bellowing through the trees, and the urgency of the situation pressing down on you. But in this moment, it’s just the two of you, locked in a gaze that speaks of endless love and unbreakable bonds.

His mind races to find a way out of this for both of you, running isn’t exactly a viable option anymore, there is nowhere to run or even hide. 

Nuzzling his nose against yours, tears cascade freely from your eyes, the salty liquid mixing with the dampness on his cheeks. This intimate gesture makes Heeseung's heart soar, feeling as though he's falling even deeper for you, if that were even possible. Every atom of his being belongs to you, and the two of you are acutely aware of this truth. Your souls are intertwined, embracing each other as you confront this dire predicament together.

He looks around, the desperation in his eyes mirroring your own. His hands slip from your face but remain in contact, fingertips grazing your skin, as if he's terrified that losing touch will cause you to vanish entirely. Heeseung glances at the precipice once again, a lump forming in his throat, his eyes blinking rapidly as the gravity of their situation becomes undeniable.

"We can't stay here," he murmurs, his voice trembling. The sound of sirens grows louder, the authorities closing in. Heeseung's gaze locks onto yours, a mixture of fear and determination in his eyes. "They'll catch us, and everything we've fought for will be for nothing. I can’t fucking lose you, baby. Not when I just got you."

As his words sink in, a valve of emotions opens up inside of you. Fear, desperation, and an overwhelming love for Heeseung intertwine, making it hard to breathe. You realise in that moment that you can't possibly live without him. The thought of being separated, of living without his presence in prison, is unbearable. He is your anchor, your solace, and the love that sustains you. You’ll crumble from the inside out if you’re not together, the codependency and attachment between you all too real.

Heeseung's fingers tighten around yours, his grip both reassuring and urgent. "There's only one way out," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. He looks back at the cliff, the void below seeming both menacing and oddly inviting. "We jump."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, the enormity of the decision circling both of you. Your heart pounds in your chest, the fear of the unknown mingling with the trust you have in him. Heeseung's eyes search yours, seeking reassurance, hoping you'll understand.

“What? Are you crazy?” you ask nervously, looking at the large drop below you.

The wind howls around you, the cliff's edge crumbling slightly under the pressure of your feet. Heeseung cups your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that continue to fall. "Do you trust me?" he asks, his voice breaking with emotion.

"Yeah, I am, but it's the only way if we want to stay together," he repeats, his voice stronger this time. "If we jump, we have a chance. We'll be free, and no one will be able to separate us."

Of course, this is insantiy. You have known one another all but two weeks and suddenly you're both contemplating dying rather than being seperated by jail cells. So why is your heart beating in agreement?

Your breath shakes as you inhale, your head disagreeing. Not because you don’t trust him, but because you can't bear the thought of Heeseung not breathing at the end of this decision. You couldn’t care less about your own fate, but his life is too precious to waste.

"Heeseung," you whisper, your voice quivering. "I won't let you die. You're too important. The world needs people like you, soft and good." You hiccup a sob as your brain even contemplates the idea. "You’re so, so good, Heeseung."

Heeseung's eyes soften, pain and tenderness illuminating their depths. He presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own in a shared moment of intimacy. “This world isn’t worth living in without you. It doesn’t deserve good people after the cards it dealt us,” he whispers, his voice steady despite the fear that lingers in his eyes.

“I promise you, Y/N, I will find you in every lifetime.”

Those words shatter your heart into pieces. The sincerity in his gaze, the unwavering determination - it’s almost too much to bear. Tears ricochet down your cheeks faster now, mingling with the saltiness of his own.

"Heeseung," you choke out, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't want you to suffer. I can't stand the thought of losing you, even for a moment."

His hands move to cradle your head gently, petting your head, something you’ve come to love with each night spent with him. Often, he would do this to calm you down when you couldn’t sleep, even without asking.

"We won’t lose each other," he says firmly, his voice a lifeline in the storm of emotions. "Not now, not ever. We’ll find a way, no matter what. But right now, we have to take this chance. If not, we’ll never be together again.”

The love that has blossomed between you is so powerful that both of you would rather face death together than be separated. It’s a testament to your commitment, and though it may seem foolish to others, it’s the only choice that feels right. If the alternative is prison and a life without each other, then you would rather take your last breath in each other's arms.

“I never wanted this to happen to you,” you confess, sucking in your lip as you try to keep the last semblance of resolve strong inside of you.

Smiling sadly, Heeseung shakes his head. “Baby, I wouldn’t have this any other way. I found myself through all of this, I got to see the world and take chances, be someone who isn’t scared of literally living their life. You helped me with that, and I wouldn’t trade it for all the stars in the sky.”

You smile back at him, nodding. Your heart understands exactly what he means because watching Heeseung blossom into this confident and headstrong man, something he always wanted to be, is the highest reward both of you could take from this other than the love for each other. You have also grown in ways you never thought possible, letting your vulnerability shine through, and trusting someone with all your chest which would never have happened without him, without this experience.

If you’re going to die now, you’re happy with the person you have become.

Heeseung's grasp on your hands tightens, his eyes filled with ferocious purpose. "We'll jump," he adds, his tone firm and committed. "And whatever happens, I'll meet you on the other side."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the fear of the unknown mingling with the intense adoration you feel for him. Nodding, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the leap. Outstretching your pinky, you hold it to his chest. "Together?" you state, your voice a mixture of resolve and vulnerability.

Heeseung smiles a sad yet determined smile that speaks of a love too deep for words. He grasps your pinky with his, tears welling up in his eyes for the last time; tears of relief and happiness. “Together. Forever.”

He brings your joined fingers to his lips, kissing them gently, a gesture filled with all the love and tenderness he can muster. Stepping closer to the edge, he pulls you with him, his hand never leaving yours. The chasm below yawns wide and dark, dotted with trees and glistening lakes, but in this moment, the bottom holds no fear - only the promise of freedom.

“Heeseung?” your soft voice echoes into the vast horizon.

“Yeah?” he replies, his voice steady and calm.

“I love you, too.”

A tender smile graces his lips. You did hear him last night, his whispered confession reverberating through your dreams, his words and tender touches leaving an indelible mark on your heart.

Heeseung's eyes meet yours, the love and trust between you unbreakable. With a deep breath, you both move closer to the precipice, the ground beneath your feet seems to tremble with anticipation. The authoritative voices are louder now, the world behind you closing in, but none of that matters anymore.

"On three," he says softly, his voice a lifeline. "One... two..."

The final number hangs in the air, a heartbeat away. The world narrows to just the two of you, your hearts beating in unison. With a final, shared breath, you take the leap.

For a moment, everything is weightless. The wind roars past, the ground vanishes beneath your feet, and you are suspended between worlds. Heeseung's hand in yours is the only anchor, a touchstone in the freefall. You glance at him and he does the same, expressions mirroring one another as you face together the inevitable chilling bone crush. You’re happy, in love

And free.

You don’t think about your past with your brother or father, or the brothel, or the man you killed. And Heeseung doesn’t think about his family, or his exams, or the life he left behind. Both of you only think about the short-lived life you shared with one another.

As you plummet into the unknown, you hold onto the promise Heeseung made. No matter where this leap takes you, no matter what lies ahead, you will find each other. In this life, and in every lifetime to come. The vast expanse of the sky, the rush of the wind, and the unyielding grip of Heeseung's hand - this is your freedom, your eternity, your together.

taglist (closed): @yzzyhee @intromortal @zerobaseone-zhanghao @hooniehon @deobitifull @alvojake @sageryuri @slut4hee @binniesbabe @vveebee @minniejenseo @jebetwo @seunghancore @laurradoesloveu @yongbokified @jaehoonii @jaeyunluvr @melonvrs @criminalyun @enhastolemyheart @fakeuwus @flwrhoes @rayofsunshineeee @moonlighthoon @jaehyuniewifeu @en-ternals @haechonly @got-sunghooned @brownsugarbaybee @heeseungspookie @sunpov @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

Ateez come back we miss you

Going two days in a row was not enough I need them every single day for the rest of my life !!!

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

The Doll House Heeseung reference :o AJ being a genius part—127

I'm a Virgin, Not a Murderer | CH.3: Ride or Dye

virgin!heeseung x sex worker!reader warnings: smut (mdni), oral (f.rec), inexperienced heeseung but he is surprisingly good, mentions of struggle with family/trauma, haunted house, there isn't many warnings on this one, it's quite cute...until the end, if i missed any lmk! wc: 16k ch.3 synopsis: the police are hot on your tail and with the news plastering your face on the news, you and heeseung set off up north. however, when you see an old amusement park and change your plans. maybe not your best idea... a/n: hi! if you are reading this just know i love you more than anyone else. i am releasing a day early bc i have some things i want to release later on on the week! this is definitely one of my favourite chapters i have ever written and it's full of fluff and character building so i hope you enjoy it and don't find it boring! thank you for the love on this series and i'll see you back here for the finale <3 reblogs, likes, comments, feedback are all welcome!

chapter 2 | masterlist | finale

“Just do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wait, wait, wait…will it hurt?”

“It’s hair, Heeseung, of course it won’t.”

You roll your eyes at his ridiculous question. Heeseung has clearly had his hair trimmed at various stages of his life, so why on earth does he think this time will be different? Perhaps it’s the fact that you are the one holding the scissors.

Ever since you both discovered that the police are hot on your trail, broadcasting unflattering pictures of you across UK news channels, it has been difficult to keep a low profile. You have tried to stay on the outskirts of the country, weaving through little towns where you hope the residents are too busy tending to their farms or stores to stay inside and watch the news.

So far, your strategy has worked, but too many close calls has instilled fear in both of you. Once, Heeseung wanted to order milkshakes from a small cafe in the Cotswolds and completely missed the massive red flag that your wanted pictures were plastered on the pages of the paper the waitress was reading. Another time, you insisted on staying inside a barn in the middle of Wiltshire, only to be chased out by a rightfully angry farmer brandishing a pitchfork, threatening to call the police.

Hence, here you are in Ayrshire, in a shady hotel that only takes cash, dying and cutting each other's hair. You settled for a jet black and bangs combo, which perfectly masked enough of your face that even you have trouble recognising yourself. Heeseung, on the other hand, insisted on pure white hair, claiming that hiding in plain sight is better than being inconspicuous with a natural shade of chestnut or blonde.

The only problem was that he fought with you for a good three hours, denying the fact that he needed a haircut and insisting that the hair colour transformation was enough. But when he looked into the mirror with his wet mop, he conceded the argument, realising that he looked more like the picture in the paper than ever before.

So here you are with a piece of his long hair sitting stiffly between your fingers as you prepare to make the first cut. Heeseung is staring at himself in the dirty mirror of the room that looks as though it has never seen a spray of glass cleaner in its life and mourns his luscious locks.

As you slice the scissors through his hair, he feels as though it’s his heart that is being snipped apart. The sound of the kitchen scissors rings alarms in his ears and he pouts, shutting his eyes as though you’re torturing him.

“Stop being a baby or I’ll shave it all off,” you warn, your tone resembling that of a mother who has told her child off for the last time and is threatening to send them to bed without dinner.

Heeseung slowly opens his eyes, a glaze of worry and remorse swimming over them. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ve been growing my hair out for a while and I really don’t want another bowl cut.” You can see the memories of the horrendous haircuts flash in his eyes, the taunts from his schoolmates as he walked into school multiple times with a cut that was genuinely as awful as it sounded. His mum used to put a Pyrex bowl on his head and cut around it, refusing to pay the barbers when she was ‘perfectly capable of doing it herself.’

You try to picture what he would look like with a lopsided bowl cut and snort, covering your mouth with the back of your hand, momentarily disregarding safety as the scissors sit loosely in your grip. The snicker doesn’t go down well with your client, and you quickly resort to instilling some ease into him, stroking the back of his head gently.

“Trust me, I’ve been cutting my own hair since I was a teen. I know what I’m doing,” you assure him, despite only one of those statements being true, and it was not the latter.

His eyes shift in the mirror to meet yours, a soft look in them. “Your mum never cut it for you?” he asks carefully, not knowing the full extent of your family or your history with them.

“My mum… she isn’t here anymore, she hasn’t been for a long time,” you admit honestly, deciding to use this opportunity of his distraction to cut more of his hair. The length falls just to the top of his neck, and considering Heeseung has a lot of hair, this is already a massive change.

Heeseung’s expression softens further, his eyes filled with sympathy and understanding. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice sincere.

Shaking your head, you offer him a small smile. “Don’t be, I didn’t really know her since she passed away when I was little.” There are few memories you share with your mum, her presence almost lost in the fog of other moments from your childhood. You think maybe most of them are subconsciously discarded from your mind in the hopes that you miss her less.

However, if you remember one thing about her, it’s the afterschool trips to Woolworths when she would swing you up high over her shoulders and sing ‘Isn’t She Lovely’ by Stevie Wonder, making you feel as though you were a piercing arrow, soaring freely through the crisp summer sky. The memory brings a soft warmth to your chest, a fleeting connection to a time when life was simpler and filled with innocent joy. Maybe that’s why you keep the memory locked in your mind.

Heeseung sits for a minute, imagining what the world would be like without his own mum. She has been the backbone of everything he has ever done, and not having her there just seems unfathomable. He wouldn’t be as kind or generous, that’s for sure - his mum is a beacon of light to those she knows. During the time he has been on the run, he has often wondered what his parents have thought about the articles and radio snippets. But if he knows them well enough, which he does, he knows they’re fighting his corner somehow. This thought gives him a little bit of comfort throughout all of this turmoil.

But do you have anyone at ringside?

“What about your dad?” he pipes up, staring at the scissors in your hand rather than meeting your eyes, as if to make you feel more comfortable with his questions. He wants to subtly express that his queries are out of genuine curiosity and not an interrogation.

You pause for a moment, collecting your thoughts and decide how much you’re ready to tell Heeseung. Then it hits you - you feel so safe with Heeseung that you don’t wish to keep anything from him. The bond you both share is solid enough that divulging your family history and pain seems like the easiest thing in the world.

“My dad…” you begin, your voice tinged with a mixture of sadness and nostalgia. “He did his best after Mum died. But he wasn’t really equipped to handle raising two children on his own. He worked a lot, and when he was home, he was...distant. I think losing Mum broke something in him that he never managed to fix.”

You snip a bit more of Heeseung’s hair, your hands working almost automatically as your mind drifts through the past. “He tried his best but me and my big brother didn’t make it easy for him. My brother is a good person but he just got his soul a little lost, gave his heart to the wrong people and it caused so much fighting in the house that he eventually moved out when he was 16. He didn’t even bother to see me or write me a letter, he just, vanished.”

You have always wondered what happened to your brother, if he found his feet in the big bad world or if it swallowed him whole. There was one time you thought you saw him in Newcastle just by the train station when you were 13 on a school trip but the person was drunk and falling all over the place and you looked away before you could confirm; living in ignorance is easier than imagining your own family struggling.

“Then my dad just…stopped caring. He lost his job and stopped paying the bills,” you wince as you recall how hopeless your father had become. “I tried to help him but there was only so much a little girl can do before she also gives up hope.”

Heeseung knew you were strong, there wasn’t even a millimetre of his mind that thought otherwise, yet, hearing your past somehow brings him a whole new level of respect for you. Essentially, you were on your own your whole teenage years, the most formative and important time of your life and instead of being supported, you were supporting, looking after a man who couldn’t handle the cards that life dealt him.

“Your dad must be worried about you now, though,” Heeseung suggests, trying to find a silver lining amidst the dark clouds hanging over your conversation. But you shake your head, a sad and almost angry expression painting your face as you move to cut the layers into his shaggy hair.

“He cut ties with me once he found out what I was doing,” you scoff, though beneath the scorn, there is a breath of hurt. “He told every family member and friend we had and made sure they shut their doors in my face. He said I was a disgrace and that Mum would be ashamed of me, so I doubt he really gives a fuck.”

The bitterness in your words sends a shiver along Heeseung’s arms. It’s unfathomable to him how a father could turn his back on his daughter when she needed him more than ever. He knows no one turns to selling their body without hitting desperate times. His heart aches for you, and he finds himself wishing he could have been there to shield you from that pain.

It does beg the question that Heeseung has been wishing to ask you for so long. With you being so open and honest with him, this might be the best time to ask—you don’t know if you’ll ever get the chance again to settle his query.

“Why did you start…doing all of this?” he asks gently, his voice filled with genuine curiosity and concern, afraid his question might be imposing.

You pause, taking a deep breath, the scissors momentarily forgotten in your hand. “Money,” you begin to explain, the obvious answer sitting both of you in the face. “Me and Dad needed to make rent, so when I was just turning eighteen, I took any job I could. And let me tell you, there isn’t much out there for a girl with only a high school education.”

Struggling to find a job was something Heeseung had also encountered. However, he was lucky his dad ran a mechanic shop and would give him shifts when he desperately needed the cash between student loan payouts.

“I found this shitty pub near Camden that paid pennies, but it was a job, right? It did us good for the time, and then one day, I was complaining about money - I can’t remember why - and this punter comes up to me and says he knows a guy looking for a girl like me.”

The memory washes over you like a tidal wave, and you can almost smell the stale beer and hear the raucous laughter from the pub. The man was dressed in a suit and tie, clearly just off a busy 9-to-5 shift when he overheard your conversation with one of the other girls behind the bar. He snapped his fingers and called you over, telling you there was an opportunity you couldn’t refuse and promising to triple what you made bartending. What desperate person is going to turn that away?

“It was amazing money, enough to pay rent and the other bills - a little brothel with girls in need of cash like me. The girls were great; we all got along well, probably because we hated the guy who ran the place. I tell you, nothing brings people together more than a common enemy.”

“What did he do?” Heeseung asks gently, his voice a soothing balm to the raw wound you’re exposing.

“He stole our tips and took a cut for ‘room hire,’ which, by the way, was like half of the money,” you bitterly laugh, the sound hollow and filled with frustration. Thinking of all the money that prick owes you and your girls stirs a cauldron of anger inside you.

Heeseung twists his head to look at you, gobsmacked at the idea you were putting your body through god knows what, all to reap no real reward at the end of it. “That’s not fair. He can’t do that.”

“Well, he did. That’s why I left,” you state matter-of-factly, your voice a mixture of defiance and resignation.

The conversation leaves a heavy silence in the room. The snipping of the scissors is the only sound, but the air between you is charged with shared pain and understanding. Heeseung reaches out, his hand trembling slightly and places it over yours, stopping your movements for a moment.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, Y/N,” Heeseung says softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of how deeply you’ve been hurt. He hopes the twinkle of respect and adoration he holds for you shines through. “You deserve to have a good life.”

Taking a deep breath, you feel the weight of your past lift slightly with his words. The encouragement and belief Heeseung has in you, even in these dire circumstances, is all you have ever wanted from someone. If one person could back you up and be there for you, you know you can make it through anything. That’s probably why you’re feeling hopeful throughout this chase.

“You better give me the best life possible then, Lee Heeseung, because I think you’re going to be tagging along for a long time,” you jab, injecting some lightheartedness into the deep conversation. It’s a nice way to punctuate your past, finally letting it all out in the open and getting it off your shoulders.

Heeseung blushes, the scarlet tone washing over his nose and cheeks with shyness. Even the prospect of tomorrow with you makes his heart race, never mind forever.

Almost finished cutting his hair with only the front left to do, you circle around and begin to trim the long bangs. Since he is sitting down on the burst maroon leather seat, you can’t properly see if you’re cutting it evenly or not. If you were in any way a professional, this would be a breeze, but for some reason, you keep cutting one side shorter than the other.

Taking initiative, you move your legs and straddle Heeseung, parking yourself on his thighs to bring you face-to-face with him. It’s the easiest solution to your problem; he’s too tall to stand up because you’ll be reaching, and he’s down too low in the chair. Secretly, it's also because baring your past and being vulnerable has made you a little clingy.

Heeseung’s breath catches in his throat as you settle onto his lap. The proximity makes his heart pound, and he can feel the heat radiating from your body. You focus on your task, carefully trimming the bangs, but you’re acutely aware of how close you are to him. The intimacy of the moment is palpable, charged with unspoken emotions and the lingering tension between you. 

None of you have spoken about the strip club or what unfolded there and considering it’s been practically a week! you think someone would have said something. Instead of communicating about it, you both have lingering stares and steal subtle touches, rather than addressing the feelings you both felt.

Sure, it was lust driven but that’s a feeling that has been sitting at the surface of your chests, bubbling into something maybe just a little bit more.

Clenching his fists and releasing them, Heeseung is physically restraining himself from placing his hands on your hips, his mind screaming that he doesn’t deserve to lay his hands so casually on art as priceless and ethereal as you. Even when you’re in bed and snuggle up to him as you sleep peacefully, he takes a minute to convince himself that it’s okay to hug you into his chest, never feeling like it’s his right to.

It’s how he’s always felt about women, yet with you, it runs deeper than he’s ever experienced. The level of adoration and respect he has for you makes him want to treat you in a way no man has ever done before. You must be so exhausted with men constantly on you that he wants to show you he isn’t going to be like those men, not now, not ever.

Sensing his tensing frame underneath you, you withdraw the scissors from his hair and look at him with concern, afraid you’ve made him uncomfortable. However, as you see his flushed face and trembling eyes, you recognise the same shy boy you met two weeks ago.

“I thought we moved past being nervous with me?” you ask, feigning disapproval to lighten the mood.

Sighing loudly, Heeseung wipes his damp palms on his chest, trying to find a place for them that isn’t your body. “You forget that I’m still a virgin and you’re the prettiest girl on the planet; any man would be nervous in this situation.” His sincerity causes your heart to stop for a moment, the blood that would normally circulate now creeping up to your cheeks, leaving you both blushing messes.

You don’t think you’ll ever get over his compliments or how effortlessly they roll off his tongue. Deep inside, there is a space in your heart reserved for Heeseung, and you don’t know how he got there, but you’re not going to evict him any time soon.

Having him in your heart means you feel more towards him, and that includes emotions of guilt. You’ve never offered to sleep with him, and yes, you know he never expects you to, but part of you wants to. It’s not out of obligation but genuine desire.

However, there is a gnawing anxiety that if you do sleep with him, it will cause the universe to end this wild ride you’re on. You fear you’ll lose him after he pops his cherry, that the only reason he was fated to meet you was for that specific reason. What if, in some cruel joke, the stars drag him away from you? You can’t do any of this without him. He has become your pillar, and as soon as he is taken away, you’ll crumble.

With all these thoughts swirling in your mind, you can only give him a simple hum in acknowledgement, scared that if you open your mouth, you’ll say something silly and scare him. So you continue with your ministrations, cutting his fringe in such a way that it masks his face without completely covering those enchanting, dark eyes of his, the ones that pull you in without needing a second glance.

The room is charged with a subtle tension, but above all else, it’s clouded with serenity. You and Heeseung can sit in the silence of one another and enjoy it. Sharing tiny moments like this almost feels domestic. A large part of you wonders if this is what it feels like to be in a real relationship.

For years, you have longed to be held and loved for more than just your body. In no way do you regret the path you’ve chosen, not even after all of this, but you do wish you could have had the chance to experience just one loving relationship. To hold hands with someone just because you want to be close to them, hugging them in the home you share because your hearts are like two magnets that tremble for one another, and kissing them so tenderly on random Wednesday afternoons as you sit in Hyde Park, reminiscing about how you first met and how nothing in the world matters but the fire between you.

That is all you have ever wanted.

With a longing sigh, you snip the last piece of long hair from Heeseung’s head, inspecting your work for any room for improvement before you’re satisfied, then, you reach for the shitty portable mini hairdryer provided by the motel.

“Alright, let’s dry this off,” you say softly, turning on the hairdryer. The warm air hums gently as you work, ruffling Heeseung’s hair and smoothing it into place. He watches you through the mirror, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken but understood.

Heeseung likes to be looked after as much as he likes to make sure those he cherishes are also safeguarded. He knows that is the relationship you both have, one with give and take, although you more so give because that’s all you have ever known. Yet, as he looks at you now, he wants to change that. He wants to give back to you in ways no one ever has.

The room is heavy with unspoken promises and newfound understanding. You and Heeseung are intertwined in ways neither of you can fully comprehend, yet it feels right, like two lost souls finally finding a home in each other.

As you blow dry the last section, you run your fingers through it, hoping to style it a little but it’s proving difficult with the lack of products and how strangely soft Heeseung’s hair is; you wouldn’t think it went through two rounds of peroxide with lemon juice and a Crystal White hair dye. The pieces fall beautifully to the side of his face, the curtain bang vision you had in your head now coming to life before your eyes.

Finishing up, you switch off the hairdryer and place it back where it belongs before giving Heeseung's locks one final fix. You've never found men with white hair attractive, considering most of your old clients had the colour all over their bodies, but Heeseung looks like an angel straight out of the gates. The stark white hair contrasts beautifully with his darker brows and toned skin, complimenting him in a way that feels almost ethereal.

"All done," you announce, a proud smile spreading across your face as you admire your handiwork. You move off him, and both of you feel a sudden, stinging cold with the separation, your body almost instantly longing to be close to him once again.

He stands up and walks to the mirror to get a closer look. He crouches down, analysing his new reflection. He looks incredibly different, the long, flat, shabby hair he was once so proud of now a distant memory. The pure white threads of almost silk on his head transform his appearance completely. It's amazing what you managed to do with so few resources.

"Y/N, this is...really good," he says, his smile widening as he checks himself out, genuinely impressed. For the first time in a long while, he admires his own reflection. Despite the tired circles under his eyes, they remain wide and vibrant, possibly because he has had the opportunity to spend all morning with you, doing normal, young adult things.

No running, no fear, just the two of you together.

Cocking an eyebrow, you cross your arms in mock offence. "Are you surprised?" you ask, trying to mimic a serious tone despite the small smile on your face, a chuckle bubbling at the surface as you watch his eyes light up and his fingers carefully fix his sideburns.

After about a minute of self-ogling, Heeseung twists around to face you, grimacing as he sucks in his breath and tenses his neck in a fake display of apology. "Is it rude to say yes?"

Tutting, you reach over and punch his arm with more force than you intended, expressing your mock annoyance at his insinuation, even though you know he doesn't truly mean it.

"Ow!" he yelps, instinctively going to hold the now aching muscle of his arm. Pouting, he rubs it roughly to dispel the pain, massaging the nerves that are jittering inside. "You've got some punch on you."

"Yeah, well, I'll use it again if you ever doubt me," you threaten, your voice wavering with a slight giggle. He really is so fragile; you wonder how he's managed to survive living 22 years in this world.

Turning your attention to the mess behind you, you take the scissors and put them back in their case, cleaning up the hair around you. You brush his dead ends lazily with your foot; not the most conventional way to tidy up, but you aren't exactly equipped with a portable brush and shovel. 

Heeseung packs the clothes into the bags you got for 50p out of a charity shop, stealing glances at you as he works. Over the weeks you’ve spent together, he’s come to admire how you never complain, no matter the task. Even now, as you brush up his hair, you don’t grumble when it sticks to your socks. Instead, you wipe it away with ease.

Of course, the task isn’t arduous, but it’s a small example of your resilience. When he asked you to dye his hair and cut it, or even when you were at the strip club, you never once expressed annoyance. You simply got on with what needed to be done.

He finds it admirable, this quiet toughness you possess. It’s a strength he wishes he had inside him. Throughout this journey, he’s often complained about how hungry he is, or how hard it is to sleep on cold floors. And every time, you’ve reassured him, telling him it’ll be okay, giving him something to look towards, even though you were feeling the same way.

Heeseung can’t help but feel a pang of guilt. You’ve done so much for him and he’s been too wrapped up in his own discomfort to fully appreciate it. He wants to tell you how much he admires you, and how much your strength means to him, but the words stick in his throat. Instead, he swallows hard and focuses on the task at hand, determined to help in any way he can.

When you finally finish cleaning up, you look up and catch his eye. Heeseung gives you a small, grateful smile, and for a moment, the weight of the world seems to lift. In that brief exchange, so much is conveyed without words. He wants to be better, to be stronger for you, just as you’ve been for him.

“Thank you,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. It’s not just for the haircut, but for everything - for being his rock, his comfort, his guide through the darkness.

You smile back at him, a warmth spreading through your chest. “Anytime,” you reply, and you mean it. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him, nothing you wouldn’t face together. “Now, do you have your stuff? We need to leave for the bus soon,” you swiftly change the subject.

Heeseung scrunches his features before he quickly releases them, understanding what you mean. Rummaging through the bag in front of him, he quickly retrieves a baseball cap which he puts on carefully to avoid ruining your work, and places a pair of silver-rimmed, oval glasses on his face. “All ready!” He turns to you, the palm of his hand under his chin as he showcases the excellent disguise that he has conjured up. 

Taking in his new appearance, you realise two things: one, you finally understand why people find it difficult to identify Superman as Clark Kent, glasses doing more for disguises than any mask could; he was right about hiding in plain sight, but you’ll never admit it. And two, he looks fucking beautiful.

The hat that makes his ears poke out just a little bit more than usual, the glasses that somehow cover yet accentuate his eyes, paired with the oversized AC/DC t-shirt, baggy Denim Co. jeans, and the trainers he has been wearing this entire time, he looks like something straight out of the ‘your next crush’ section in POP! Magazine. 

Biting your lip subconsciously, your eyes trail his body, your pupils shaking in need. Maybe you have enough time to push him onto the bed and jump-

“You good?” Heeseung asks, a half frown working on his face. 

Shaking your head from the lewd thoughts, you smile, taking your bag from the place on the bed beside him. “Let’s go.”

_____

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Heeseung’s eyes dart around the crowded bus with palpable trepidation, fearing someone might recognise you both. It's his first time using his alias, "Evan," and despite your reassurances that his new appearance is enough to deter recognition, he's planned an elaborate backstory complete with trivia about his fabricated life, including bonus rounds. He doesn’t know when someone might ask him in which primary school his fake grandmother attended, but he has the answer locked and loaded.

His hand is gripping yours tightly, the sweat from his nerves now creating a tiny swimming pool in your connected palms. He doesn’t mean to get clammy but the idea of coming so far and having it foiled on a National Express bus on the outskirts of Ayr is putting him on edge.

You don’t seem to notice his sweaty hands or the elderly woman watching you from across the aisle. Instead, your attention is captivated by the breathtaking Scottish countryside passing by outside the window. The rolling hills of Ayr are adorned with lush greenery, dotted with clusters of ancient trees that sway gently in the breeze.

The bus winds through narrow roads flanked by dry stone walls and vibrant patches of wildflowers. Highland cows, with their shaggy coats and long, curved horns, graze lazily in the pastures. Oh, to be a cow in another life, munching grass all day long without a care in the world. The notion amuses you, and you imagine that maybe, if you're reincarnated, you can come back as one of these peaceful creatures.

The scenery outside is so tranquil that you easily lose yourself in the views. The mountains, the serene lochs, and the quaint cottages all work together to quiet your mind, offering a brief respite from the constant anxiety that has followed you for weeks. For a moment, everything feels right.

However, as soon as something unusual catches your eye, your brain shifts back into gear, thoughts twirling with curiosity. You sit up straight, eyes narrowing to focus. Amidst the idyllic landscape, something stands out - a stark contrast to the beauty surrounding it.

An old, rusty, clearly abandoned theme park appears on the horizon. The sign, once vibrant with its yellow and red paint, now faded and peeling, spells out the name ‘Joyland.’ But there is nothing joyous about the place. The park has clearly been deserted for at least 15 years, left to the mercy of time and nature.

Theme parks are something younger you could only dream of, your dad insisting that it was too far away and too expensive. You understand him a little better now that you’re older, however, that doesn’t quench the little girl inside you and her thirst for the excitement of a Maze of Mirrors or Waltzers.

With a twinkle in your eye and a quickening of your heartbeat, you push Heeseung to stand up in the aisle. He protests slightly, letting out a surprised 'whoa' and a grunt, but you ignore him, clasping his hand tightly in yours. Fighting against the slippery sweat that threatens to break your grip, you drag him towards the front of the bus.

Heeseung's heart plummets, his anxiety boiling over as people start to notice your sudden movement. He tries to reason with you, urging you to return to your seats and abandon whatever impulsive idea has sparked this rush. 

But his pleas fall on deaf ears. By the time his voice filters through to you, you're already tapping the bus driver's shoulder with feigned panic. “Sir, can you pull over, please?” you ask, your voice sweet yet tinged with urgency.

“No can do, Hen. The bus doesn’t stop until we get to Troon,” he explains calmly, giving you a glance through the rearview mirror.

“Please, my boyfriend is going to be sick, and I don’t want to disrupt anyone’s journey,” you plead. The excuse is thin, but if there’s one thing a bus driver hates more than being late, it’s dealing with a sick passenger.

The driver’s eyes widen and he flusters slightly. “Well, there are bags under the seat. Take one of them.”

“It’s not going to be enough. He’s had a drink or two, and you know what that’s like,” you say, your lips forming into a pout as you try anything to get the bus to stop. The longer you stand begging, the further the theme park recedes into the distance.

You elbow Heeseung roughly. The unexpected blow makes him hunch over, breath catching in his throat and eyes bulging slightly. It's the perfect reaction to convince the driver, who nods quickly, his concern outweighing his schedule. “Yes, alright, but only for a minute,” he concedes, flicking the indicator to pull to the left-hand side.

Mentally, you praise Heeseung for his overdramatic reactions to pain. His theatrical flair, usually a source of amusement when he overreacts to a bump or a stepped-on foot, has come in handy. No one can ever say that being dramatic gets you nowhere.

As the bus pulled to a stop, a surge of triumph coursed through you. The driver swung open the creaky door, and you stepped off, immediately feeling the brisk Scottish air kiss your face. Heeseung stumbled behind you, trying to navigate the steep steps of the bus as you tugged him along.

“Are you mad?” Heeseung whispered, his grip tightening on your hand, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. He glanced around, searching for any sign of reason in your decision to abandon the bus for an impromptu adventure through the countryside.

“Maybe,” you replied with a grin, the thrill of spontaneity evident in your voice. Glancing over Heeseung’s shoulder to the bus driver, you flashed a polite smile. “You go ahead, we’ll walk. He could use the fresh air,” you shouted, waving off any objections.

Before the driver could protest, you were already sprinting back in the direction the bus had come from, dragging the bewildered Heeseung behind you. He stumbled at first but quickly matched your pace, his curiosity piqued despite his confusion. The bus pulled away, leaving you both standing at the roadside, free from the constraints of scheduled travel.

“Y/N, where are we going?” Heeseung gasped, breathless from the unexpected burst of activity.

“Just come on, we’re almost there!” you called back over your shoulder, excitement shining in your eyes and a wide grin spreading across your face.

Heeseung caught a glimpse of your infectious enthusiasm and decided to trust in your lead, letting go of his worries and focusing instead on keeping up with you.

As you approached the entrance to Joyland, you slowed your pace, causing Heeseung to nearly collide with your back. He stops himself, grasping your arm to steady both of you. The gates before you are weathered and rusted, the once vibrant red paint now faded and peeling. Vines snaked through the gaps in the iron bars, reclaiming the space that had been abandoned to time.

Heeseung looks up and tilts his head, “Y/N what are we doing here?”

Wistfully, you let go of his hand and walk towards the gates, assessing just how easy it would be to get into the park. Luckily, it is held together with a flimsy lock that could easily be broken with a rock and some force. 

Looking around and ignoring Heeseung’s answer for now, you search for something hard enough to break the padlock with, the ground around you is scattered with lots of handy things; Buckfast bottles, old shoes which you don’t even dare ask how they ended up here, scared of the answer it might bring, and then the golden ticket; a brick that had fallen from the wall that surrounded the park.

Grabbing it, you almost skip back to the entrance, happy that in just one swing, you’ll be accomplishing a dream of yours, even if you can’t complete it in its entirety. You lift your arm up, grasping tight on the ash-red brick before hammering it down. The first time doesn’t work, only rattling the metal against the steel, so persistent as ever, you try again and again until finally, the contraption falls to the ground with a tiny thud. 

Heeseung watches you from afar, shoulders tense from the sound of the breaking lock and your grunts. You must really want in there and he will be damned if he tries to stop you. He wants to pose the question again, wondering what could be so exciting about a shitty theme park that hasn’t seen any joy despite its name in a decade, but you answer it for him.

“I’ve never been to one of these before,” you speak in a hushed tone, scared to disrupt the silence that carries through the wind.

“It’s shut down, Y/N,” Heeseung states the obvious, now standing behind you.

Craning your neck, you look up at him and smile. “Just means there are no queues.”

Pushing open the creaking gate and finally stepping inside, the sound echoes through the stillness of the park. The path ahead is overgrown with wildflowers and weeds, the cracked pavement obscured by nature's reclamation. An old carousel stands in the distance, its paint long gone and its horses frozen in time, a melancholy reminder of days gone by.

The entrance to Joyland is eerily inviting, with pretty moss creeping up the dilapidated ticket booth and the once-bright sign now dulled by years of neglect. The Ferris wheel, its gondolas now chipped and weathered, stands motionless against the backdrop of a clear sky. The roller coaster tracks, twisted and overgrown with weeds, snake their way through the park, hinting at the thrills they once offered.

“Look at this place,” you whisper, awe and curiosity mixing in your voice. “It’s like stepping into a forgotten world.”

Heeseung nods, his eyes scanning the beautifully tragic surroundings. “Yeah, it’s kinda sad to see it like this. It would have been nice for you to see it in its glory,” he says softly.

Having visited countless theme parks in his lifetime, Heeseung can vividly imagine what Joyland used to be like: vibrant with colour, the laughter of children echoing as they dashed away from their parents to ride attractions they were barely tall enough for, and the mingling scents of carnival foods creating a unique aroma of nostalgia.

You both wander through the deserted park, taking in the sights, walking side by side in a peaceful silence. However, Heeseung can’t shake off the feeling of being watched, perhaps because the openness of the area leaves nowhere to hide. There are rides and booths, but someone could easily spot you both if they looked hard enough.

“It’s too exposed here, Y/N. Let’s just go,” he warns, his eyes darting to a moving shadow he’s convinced is real and not just a figment of his imagination. The happiness of imagined memories quickly washes away as he sees what the park really is: a derelict site filled with discarded needles and abandoned rides.

You notice his unease, the way his eyes shift nervously, and know he’s seconds away from dragging you back to the bus. But if this is your only chance to experience a theme park, you’re willing to use every bit of charm you have.

Fluttering your eyelashes and jutting out your lip, you gaze up at him with a pleading expression. “Hee, please,” you begin, taking his hand and swinging it gently. “Just for five minutes?” You cringe inwardly at your own performance but are willing to act the part for the chance to stay - it’ll be worth the bruise in your pride.

Heeseung’s fear is chipped away at your pleas. It’s so ridiculous how easy men are to trick in this day and age, particularly a virgin who is in hook, line, and sinker for you.

“Alright, five minutes,” he finally concedes, sighing deeply. You beam up at him, gratitude and excitement flooding your heart. 

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, you place a kiss on his cheek, eliciting a pink blush to form on his him. Unlike the other times he’s gone flushed in the face, this isn’t of embarrassment but rather contentment and glee.

“There’s a haunted house over there, let's go!” you exclaim, pointing to the weathered, foreboding structure looming in the distance.

Maybe this is Joyland after all.

Maybe he was too quick with his thoughts.

Heeseung swallows hard, trying to mask his apprehension with a weak smile. "Sure," he replies, his voice wavering slightly. He squeezes your hand for reassurance, more for his sake than yours, as you both make your way towards the haunted house.

The building looks like it’s been pulled straight out of a horror film. The once grand entrance is now covered in ivy and the wooden doors hang loosely on their hinges. The paint is chipped and faded, the windows are cracked and clouded with grime, and the sign above the door, which once read ‘House of Horrors’ is barely legible. The wind whistles through the gaps, adding an eerie melody to the desolate ambience.

You step inside first, the floorboards creaking under your weight. Heeseung hesitates at the threshold, his eyes darting around nervously. The light from outside filters through the broken windows, casting long shadows that seem to dance and shift. He takes a deep breath, steeling himself before following you inside.

The air inside the haunted house is stale and thick with dust. Cobwebs hang from the ceiling, and the smell of dampness and decay lingers, infiltrating your nose and causing you to wince. The first room you enter is a foyer of sorts, with tattered red curtains hanging from the walls and a decrepit chandelier swaying gently above. An old grandfather clock stands in the corner, its hands frozen at midnight.

Heeseung keeps a tight grip on your hand, his eyes scanning every corner for signs of movement. "This place is...something," he mutters, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

You squeeze his hand back, giving him a reassuring smile. "Come on, it's just a bit of fun," you say, leading him further into the house.

The next room is even darker, with the only guidance of your steps being from the room before. You can barely make out the shapes of old furniture covered in white sheets, some stained with what you hope is fake blood. Suddenly, a gust of wind slams a door shut behind you, causing Heeseung to jump, his heart travelling from its rightful place in his chest to his throat.

He lets out a nervous laugh, quickly trying to cover it up. "That was just the wind," he says, more to himself than to you.

You nod, suppressing a giggle. "Of course it was," you agree, though you can't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. The atmosphere of the haunted house is getting to you too, despite your brave front. Despite your eagerness to enter the haunted attraction, you hate to admit that you aren’t feeling the best right now, your heart a ticking bomb. 

If you were to go into this house when it was up and running, scare actors and life still instilled within the dark corners then maybe you would feel a little better, but the more you venture into the darkness, the less sturdy your legs are.

In one room, you come across a dusty old mirror, the vision of you and Heeseung echoing back to you, plastering a reassured smile on your face. Both of you look nothing like yourselves yet next to one another, you feel like you’ve found who you’re supposed to be.

As you approach it, a ghostly figure suddenly appears in the reflection, reaching out towards you. You yelp in surprise, instinctively wrapping your arms around Heeseung’s waist and quickly facing away from it, burying your face into his chest. 

He stiffens for a moment, then relaxes, wrapping his free arm around you protectively. Although he also got a fright, he feels himself needing to protect you as a way to pay you back for every time you’ve looked after him. Granted, he wishes it could be something a bit more substantial than a trick mirror but it will do for now.

"It's okay, it's just a trick," Heeseung murmurs, trying to comfort you even as his own heart races, squeezing you tighter. He can feel your body trembling against his, and it takes everything in him to project calmness, to be the anchor you need right now.

“I… don’t like this anymore, Heeseung,” you admit, looking up at him. The dim light casts shadows across his face, but you can still make out the worry etched into his features. You seek comfort in his familiarity, trying to steady your racing heart. Something in your gut tells you to get out of this place, and after ignoring your instincts that fateful day two weeks ago, you refuse to disregard them ever again.

Heeseung nods, rubbing your back soothingly. "We'll find a way out," he promises, his eyes scanning the area for any beacon of light to guide you both. But all he stumbles upon is another door. "I think we’ll need to keep going for now."

It's the worst thing he could say, but you understand he's right. The only way out of here is forward, the door behind you stuck firmly shut.

To ease the tension, Heeseung chuckles slightly. “You know, I didn’t think you were scared of anything,” he chats, trying to keep you distracted as he opens the door to a new, unexplored room.

“I’m scared of a lot of things,” you confess. Your guard is up against the house, but down for Heeseung. After opening up about your past, the wall around your heart doesn't feel the need to rebuild itself. The boy currently holding you under his arm has taken your defences down piece by piece, and you don't hate him for it one bit.

With a look of surprise, his eyes settle on your delicate face as he processes your response. “Really? Like what?” He’s not trying to be intrusive; he just genuinely didn’t think you had any.

“I can’t tell you that,” you laugh, the tension in your body melting slightly, even as you face an old life-sized doll trapped in a box. Your fears are personal, and you believe that speaking them into existence might make them come true. There are two fears trapped inside you that you wish never to see the light of day.

Unravelling yourself from Heeseung’s strong embrace, you timidly approach the looming figure in the box. Its lifelike form is so realistic that you might have mistaken it for a real person. The glass is dusty, and the top right corner has been shattered by something small but mighty. You can’t believe your eyes.

“Heeseung, come here,” you beckon him, your hand gesturing for him to step forward and see what you’re seeing. “Doesn’t this doll look like you?” If you didn’t know any better, you would say that Heeseung had a twin. The doll has the same eyes, nose, and pretty pink lips.

Examining the box, Heeseung reads out loud, “Have your wishes granted by the doll that knows your deepest desires.” He whispers softly, scared that it might be some spell to wake the creepy doll. It does look scarily like him, except this doll has cherry-red hair and dead eyes.

He takes off his glasses and stands next to it. “It really is me, huh?”

Clasping a hand over your mouth, you widen your eyes, taking in the side-by-side comparison. “Hee, that is you, down to your long lashes!” Your eyes dart between them both as you view them.

It's scary, but what's more daunting is staying in this creepy house any longer. You rid your thoughts of any ideas that a shapeshifter has stolen Heeseung’s body and placed it in the comically large doll box, gladly walking away from it.

Giving it one last stare, Heeseung sighs. “I hope someone finds you and gives you a good life.” He wishes the doll a farewell and walks behind you, the unease in his chest dissipating slightly as he follows your determined steps.

Taking the lead, Heeseung opens the next door once again, yet, instead of a room, you’re met with a long, pitch-black corridor that seems to stretch on forever with no end in sight. The air is thick, almost suffocating, and the faint echo of his footsteps reverberates through the darkness.

“I say we run through it,” you suggest, your voice echoing off the walls and adding to the eerie atmosphere. It's not your favourite choice, but you know there's a good chance the exit is right ahead.

Heeseung nods, focusing ahead. “We are good at running,” he jokes, causing you both to laugh. The eerie space fills with a haunting joy, a stark contrast to the oppressive silence that has surrounded you.

Holding out your hand, you offer it to Heeseung. “On the count of three?”

“Three.”

Without a chance to comprehend what he says, Heeseung locks his fingers with yours and starts running, the sudden burst leaving you trailing behind him. Despite the darkness and the unknown ahead, you can't help but laugh, letting him lead you to safety. The adrenaline rush and the sound of your combined laughter make the moment surreal and oddly comforting.

Heeseung glances back at you despite only making out the shadow of you, the only light leaking from the room you were previously in. There's a moment where he can see the smile on your face and it causes his heart to pit a pat in his chest. 

The corridor isn't actually that long, or maybe it’s the fun you’re having, but soon enough you’re both crashing through an emergency exit door, chests rising and falling with laughter and excitement. You feel like a kid again, running around without a care in the world, free from any negative thoughts or the wear and tear that adulthood has bestowed upon you.

The cool, fresh air hits your face, a welcome relief from the suffocating darkness inside. You never thought you would be happy to see the British skies before, suddenly admiring the beauty around you, despite the less-than-attractive surroundings. The contrast between the open, airy countryside and the eerie, claustrophobic house is stark, filling you with a newfound appreciation for the simplicity of the outdoors.

Stealing a glance at Heeseung, you notice how his face, although red from the cardio, looks so different. His eyes are lit up like a child at a Christmas market, his face visibly younger, and there is an air to him you haven’t seen before. He has always been beautiful, but now he looks pure and wholesome, his mind no longer bombarded with anxiety, nerves, or whatever else goes on inside that pretty head of his. The relief and exhilaration from escaping the haunted house paired with a moment of child-like freedom has brought out a serene glow in him.

Heeseung’s eyes meet yours as he straightens his back, his muscles relaxed now that he feels safe. "Now I know why people run through horror games," he chuckles, but his words are lost in the sweeping air, and you fail to register them, still caught in your reverie.

Your silence isolates you both, prompting Heeseung to examine you more closely. Maybe you're in shock from the scare the house gave you, or perhaps you're gathering your breath. He finds it unusual for you to be so quiet. You're just looking at him, lost in contemplation, with an inscrutable face that makes his smile fade somewhat.

"What is it? Are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with worry, his hand gently squeezing yours.

It takes you a minute to realise you’re staring at him, your brain clouded with so many thoughts and realisations that it shuts down for a moment. The overwhelming affection you feel for him leaves you momentarily speechless. Never in your life has a man rendered you incapable of basic human functions. The way he looks in the summer sun, the ease with which he’s starting to smile, makes your heart flutter in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Finally, you shake your head slightly, breaking free from your trance. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you murmur, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Let’s…go find another ride.” Changing the subject seems to be your only way out, so you use the whiplash as your opportunity to bolt before he asks something else.

“Hey, wait!” he shouts behind you in an attempt to slow you down, but you’re already steadily running towards the middle of the park. The crunch of gravel under your shoes is the only sound accompanying your rapid footsteps, the eerie silence of the abandoned amusement park amplifying every movement.

Your eyes scan over the abundance of left-to-die rides, mourning for them as you think about how they have been forced to remain stagnant. Surely they could have been reused somewhere else? Why is it that these particular machines weren’t good enough? The sight of rusted Ferris wheels and dilapidated roller coasters, their once vibrant colours now faded and peeling, tugs at your heartstrings. 

As you weave through the overgrown pathways, you stumble upon something that catches your eye - a tunnel with a large, heart-shaped archway. The sign above it reads “Tunnel of Love,” but there’s no water in the canal below due to sunshine and abandonment. The boats that once floated gently along the waterway now sit dry and cracked, covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. The wooden planks of the dock are warped and splintered, evidence of the neglect they’ve suffered.

Stepping closer, you peer into the tunnel. The walls inside are decorated with faded murals of romantic scenes: lovers in rowboats under a starlit sky, holding hands as they drift through enchanted landscapes. The air is thick with the scent of damp wood and mildew, the remnants of the once-glistening water now a distant memory. The cracked and dry canal floor, once a pathway for swaying boats, now lies abandoned, its purpose long forgotten.

Heeseung finally catches up, panting heavily. “Y/N, please don’t run away like that. Anyone or anything could be out here,” he scolds softly, his voice laced with genuine concern. He gives you a once-over, ensuring you haven't been hurt, scanning your form, checking for any signs of injury or distress. The thought of a rabid animal or some hidden danger lurking in the shadows sends a shiver down his spine. The idea of you being harmed, even by a scratch, is enough to send him into an anxious panic. He doesn’t even want to think about the state he would be in if you suddenly got caught by the police.

You see the worry etched on his face and feel a pang of guilt for making him anxious. “I’m sorry, Heeseung,” you say softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s just…this place, it’s so fascinating in its own way.” You daren’t tell him it has anything to do with your mixed up feelings.

Heeseung’s expression softens at your words. “I know, it’s just…we have to be careful. This place is falling apart, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” His eyes, full of concern, meet yours, and you feel a warmth spread through your chest at his protectiveness.

“I guess this is the wrong time to ask if we can go through the tunnel?” you sheepishly ask, hoping that he will say yes to your request. You have always wanted to go through a love tunnel, even just once.

Heeseung sets his focus down the dark tunnel and pouts slightly in thought. “Does it even still work?”

That is a question you don’t have even the tiniest speck of an answer for, but you can make the assumption that the correct one would be a hard no. Your face forms into a disappointed frown, your hopes of experiencing the ride now dismal.

Upon seeing your disappointment, Heeseung refuses to watch the excitement die inside of you. His mind races, desperate to find a way to make this moment special for you. Glancing around, his eyes catching sight of an old, weathered booth tucked away to the side.

“Wait here for a second, I’ll see if I can get it working,” he says, determination setting in as he walks over to the booth. The structure is small and dilapidated, with a sign above it that reads ‘Operator’. Heeseung pushes open the creaky door and steps inside, brushing away the cobwebs that cling to his shirt. The air is stale, filled with the scent of dust and decay, but he’s undeterred, thankful he is only scared of women and not spiders.

Inside, a control panel covered in grime greets him. It is a chaotic array of buttons, switches, and levers, each labelled with faded, barely legible text. Heeseung squints, trying to make sense of the worn labels: “Start,” “Stop,” “Lights,” “Music,” “Emergency.” He has no idea how to operate the machinery, but the thought of seeing you happy drives him forward.

Heeseung’s fingers hover over the buttons, hesitant. “Okay, let's see,” he mutters to himself, trying to recall any fragments of knowledge about old amusement park rides. He presses the “Start” button, hoping for some sign of life. A low hum fills the booth, and the old, rusted mechanisms of the tunnel creak in protest as they start to move.

Peering out of the booth, he sees a few of the dim fairy lights flicker to life inside the tunnel. The ancient bulbs struggle but manage to cast a faint, romantic glow along the pathway. Heeseung’s heart races with a mix of excitement and anxiety, hoping this will work.

He looks back at the panel and flips the switch labelled “Music.” A scratchy, old recording of a love song begins to play, the sound wavering but still charming in its vintage way. He can’t help but smile, imagining how you must be feeling right now.

“Oh my god, Hee, it’s on!” Heeseung's heart swells as he hears your delighted squeal echoing through the air. Despite the dusty and bug-infested surroundings of the booth, seeing you so excited makes every moment worthwhile. He steps out, wiping his hands on his shirt to rid them of the grime, and walks over to where you're standing by the entrance to the love tunnel.

Your face lights up as he approaches, your eyes sparkling with joy. The soft glow of the tunnel's lights illuminates your features, casting a warm, romantic aura around you both. Heeseung can't help but smile back at you, his own happiness mirroring yours.

"I told you I would try," Heeseung says playfully, a hint of pride in his voice. His eyes sparkle with satisfaction as he glances towards the tunnel entrance. Inside, the flickering lights cast dancing shadows on the cracked walls, and the faint strains of the love song create an unexpectedly enchanting atmosphere.

"And I’ll never doubt you again," you reply with a bright smile, nudging him gently with your shoulder. "Can we just walk through it?" you ponder, noting the absence of water and the cracked boat that would have carried you through a dreamy water ride.

Heeseung chuckles softly at your playful nudge, feeling a warmth spread through him at your words of trust and appreciation. He meets your gaze, seeing sincerity and excitement shining through, and nods enthusiastically.

"Of course we can. Who’s going to stop us? Security?" he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Taking the leap, Heeseung gracefully jumps down into the tunnel, his lanky limbs giving him an effortless advantage. The worn, pool-like ground beneath him feels sturdy underfoot as he kicks away empty vodka bottles and shattered glass.

"Come on," he beckons with a gentle smile, his fingers curling inward to encourage you to join him in the deep space below.

Trusting in Heeseung’s ability to catch you, you sit on the edge and wait for him to position himself below. Heeseung stands ready with his arms outstretched, prepared to catch you. A wave of excitement and nervousness wells up in your chest. His sweet smile and supportive gesture fortify your resolve as you prepare to plunge. 

“It’s okay, just jump, I’ll catch you,” he assures, his face conveying unwavering confidence in his ability to protect you. His voice, serene and certain, echoes gently in the tranquillity of the abandoned attraction.

His eyes never leave yours, filled with a warmth that melts away any lingering doubts. In that moment, his faith in your safety gives you the courage you need to push off the ledge. You’re not scared of heights, just of falling.

You propel yourself forward, the world momentarily blurring around you as gravity takes hold. The rush of wind fills your ears, a fleeting sensation of weightlessness before you feel Heeseung's strong arms enveloping you. His embrace is secure and comforting, anchoring you safely in his grasp.

As you settle into his arms, a wave of relief washes over you, adrenaline slowly giving way to a sense of accomplishment and gratitude. Heeseung holds you close, his touch gentle yet firm, as if reassuring himself of your safety. His embrace is tighter than necessary, his hands cradling you protectively, and you feel the steady beat of his heart matching the rhythm of yours.

“See? I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice carrying a quiet strength and reassurance.

You blush slightly, grateful for his stability as you take a step back, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin, mingling with the surge of emotions coursing through you. Your dynamic shifts significantly in this moment; his confidence and reassurance are new, as is your sudden desire to shy away and twirl your hair.

Standing there, relishing the warmth of the moment, Heeseung softly extends his hand to you as a quiet invitation. His eyes, gentle and comforting, meet yours, softly indicating that he is ready whenever you are. The air around you seems to shimmer with the remnants of the love song echoing softly from the tunnel, adding to the novel ambience.

You peek down at his hand, which looks strong and welcoming. Without hesitation, you reach out, your fingers naturally linking with his. 

Heeseung gives you a pleasant grin, his attention shifting to the tunnel entrance. "Shall we?" he says softly, his tone full of optimism and wonder. His grasp on your hand is firm yet kind, guiding you towards the darker entryway where pink-hued lights flicker and dance against the walls.

Taking a deep breath, you respond with a nod and a broad smile. Together, you enter the tunnel, the ground beneath your feet reverberating softly with each step.

The enchanting atmosphere grows as you and Heeseung venture deeper into the tunnel. The warm lights cast a soft glow on the forgotten walls, illuminating the path ahead with a dreamlike quality. You notice faded murals depicting whimsical scenes of enchanted forests and mythical creatures, their vibrant colours still peeking through despite years of neglect.

The tunnel widens into a larger chamber, revealing remnants of the once-grand attraction. Rusted railings and dilapidated boats lie abandoned, adding to the sense of forgotten magic. You can almost hear the echoes of laughter and the gentle splashes of water that once filled the air.

Heeseung watches you with a delighted smile as you take in your surroundings, your eyes wide with wonder. He enjoys seeing you like this, so full of curiosity and excitement. "It's amazing, isn't it?" he says, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if afraid to break the spell of the moment for you.

You nod, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight before you. "It's like stepping into another world," you reply, your voice filled with awe. 

There must have been thousands of couples who road down this exact path, hearts filled with love for their partners as they took in the different scenes meant to exhibit different kinds of love; a fairyland garden that depicted an elf picking a daisy for his faerie girlfriend, different forest animals around a campfire, each paired with their own lover.

The two of you explore the different sections of the attraction, each one more fascinating than the last. One passageway leads to a room filled with intricate mechanical contraptions, once part of a grand clockwork display. 

In another area, you discover a garden-themed section, where overgrown vines and flowers have taken over, creating a beautiful, natural tapestry. The scent of blooming flowers lingers in the air, a stark contrast to the dusty corridors you navigated earlier. Heeseung picks a small, wildflower and tucks it behind your ear, his touch gentle and affectionate.

"You're even more beautiful than the flowers," he says softly, causing you to blush and smile shyly. Heeseung can feel his fingers tremble slightly but he keeps his confident manner, pushing away his virgin nerves for a minute to give you the experience you deserve.

He is so sweet and you thank the heavens for allowing you to experience this tunnel with him.

Your journey takes you to the heart of the attraction, where a grand stage still stands. The stage is adorned with tattered curtains and faded decorations, but you can easily imagine the grandeur it once held. Before you stands a scene depicting a king and queen sitting proudly on their thrones, hands raised in a waving gesture, greeting their subjects with glee as they hold hands.

“I wanna get a closer look,” you say, your eyes glued to the regal couple. Heeseung nods and follows you without hesitation. “Can you boost me up?” you ask, glancing at the steep wall separating you from the display.

Nodding with an agreeable smile, Heeseung walks over to the wall and kneels beside it, his hands crossed on his knee to create a platform for you to step on. He thanks himself for playing Tomb Raider one too many times, giving him the knowledge to assist you properly without making it awkward.

Offering him a quick thanks, you place your foot on his hands and he lifts you up effortlessly. Your arms shake slightly as you pull yourself onto the platform, but you manage to steady yourself and take in the intricate details of the royal figures.

From your elevated vantage point, you can see the exquisite craftsmanship of the display, each feature carefully carved to bring the king and queen to life. The sight takes your breath away, and you share your amazement with Heeseung, who watches you with a proud smile.

"It's even more incredible up close," you say, your voice filled with awe. 

Wanting to get in on the action, Heeseung searches around, looking for something to help him up to the platform that you seem so amazed by. There isn’t much but rubbish and some strewn, soggy leaves. He would ask you for a hand up but he’s scared he’ll drag you right back down again.

Pacing the area, he finally comes across a ladder which has obviously fallen from the wall, with sections of the steps missing, the rust from the metal enough to make his skin crawl as he thinks about all the time he refused to get a tetanus shot at the doctor's; oh, how that would come in handy now.

Heeseung chooses to take the risk, picking it up and placing it against the wall before hastily mounting it, fearful that it will slip and he'll end up with more damage than lockjaw. 

Fortunately for him, he gets up relatively easily and can finally join you in the delight. His eyes scan the scene before him, and he realises why you were so determined to make it up here. The slight flush on the queen's cheeks and the king's adoring stare at his wife epitomise love, showcasing their devotion as though they were real people.

Whoever made this park put time and effort into every small detail. It’s a shame entire generations will miss out on it.

Timidly, you walk over to the dolls, a lingering fear that they might come to life still gripping you. The haunted house has left your nerves frayed, making everything seem like a potential threat. However, they sit obediently in place, their eyes unmoving and thankfully unbothered as you begin to move them, eager to sit on the throne they possess.

Gently, you place them on the ground beside one another, ensuring they remain together. You turn to the throne and feel the material, testing its sturdiness to make sure you don’t fall through when you sit.

Heeseung watches you with a mix of amusement and admiration. "I think it's safe," he says, offering a reassuring smile, his hand outstretched to guide you to the seat.

You take a deep breath and carefully lower yourself onto the throne. To your relief, it holds firm, and you find yourself seated in the seat of royalty. The sensation is surreal, almost making you feel powerful, and you realise why the monarchy insists on these comically massive chairs.

“Imagine being the queen,” you muse aloud, rubbing the armrests as you commit every fine detail to memory. The intricate carvings of flowers and vines shine back at you as you unintentionally clean away the buildup of dust.

“I’d vote for you,” Heeseung replies, admiring the sight of you seated on the throne.

You look up at him with confusion. “Heeseung, it’s the Prime Minister we vote for, not the queen,” you say, wondering how on earth he confused the two.

He scratches his arm, a nervous habit of his when he feels even the tiniest bit embarrassed. “Oh, well…I’d still vote for you to rule the world somehow,” he says sheepishly, his eyes falling to the floor. He wishes he could pretend he didn't get them mixed up, but in his mind, they all merge together, perhaps due to years of neglect by both parties.

You giggle and swing your feet, enjoying normalcy for once. It reminds you of the conversations you had with the girls, helping one another to learn even the most obvious things. One of them once asked if Essex was a continent, and you had to gently explain cities and countries.

You took those times for granted.

The music suddenly changes to a softer melody, like one from a jewellery box, pulling you back to the present. The beautiful sound carries an air of love around you, filling the tunnel with a tender, enchanting atmosphere.

Heeseung also notices the change and sees the quiet excitement on your face, the elation evident in your eyes. The corners of your lips turn up in a smile, showing him how much you love the song.

Offering you his hand, he bows slightly. "Would the queen like to dance?" he asks, his embarrassment and nerves dissipating as he watches your reaction.

"The queen would be honoured," you reply with a playful smile, taking his hand and standing up. The two of you move into a waltzing position, or at least as close as two amateurs can manage.

Heeseung's hand rests gently on your waist, and you place yours on his shoulder. Your feet move in tandem with his, following his lead as he sways you softly from side to side. The rhythm is simple, almost instinctual, as you both find a comfortable pace. Heeseung twirls you around, guiding you with a delicate touch. The tunnel fills with laughter as you both realise how terrible you are at dancing, your steps more like a gentle walk back and forth rather than any actual dance move.

The flickering lights cast a warm, romantic glow on your faces, adding to the dreamlike quality of the moment. You can't help but feel a sense of euphoria, the combination of the music, the setting, and Heeseung's presence creates a perfect moment of bliss. Each step, each movement, is filled with unspoken words and shared smiles.

Heeseung's eyes never leave yours, and you feel a profound connection with him, as if the entire world has faded away, leaving just the two of you in this enchanted place. His fingers are warm against your back, his grip secure yet gentle, providing a sense of safety and comfort.

As you continue to sway, you can hear Heeseung's soft breaths, matching the rhythm of the music. You lean in closer, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

"You know," you whisper, a hint of teasing in your voice, "your heart doesn't beat as fast as it used to."

Heeseung huffs out a soft chuckle, the sound vibrating through your body. "I guess I'm getting used to having you close," he replies, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. His tone turns slightly more serious as he speaks again, his grip on you tightening slightly. “And I feel safe with you; I think that’s why.”

His confession causes you to look up at him. The sincerity on his face adds weight to his words. The emotion in his eyes is pure, and you know he means it. You've seen him grow comfortable with you over the weeks, but hearing him say it out loud makes your stomach do cartwheels.

Taking his hand, you place it gently over your heart, his palm resting just on top of your left breast. Your actions startle him at first, but he soon relaxes, feeling your heartbeat which matches his own rhythm.

Peering up at him through your lashes, you beam at him. “I guess mine feels safe with you too.”

The moment stretches, the air between you thickening with an electric charge. Heeseung’s eyes darken slightly as they flicker to your lips and back up to your eyes. His hand remains on your chest, the warmth of his palm seeping through your shirt, creating a connection that feels almost tangible.

You can feel his breath on your skin, the soft rise and fall of his chest against yours. Slowly, he leans in, his lips hovering just a centimeter away from yours. The anticipation makes your heart race even faster, and you close the gap, pressing your lips to his in a tender kiss.

The initial contact is soft and tentative, testing the waters. But as soon as your lips meet, an undeniable heat flares between you. Heeseung’s hand moves from your chest to cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

This isn’t your first kiss with him, yet it feels entirely different to the ones you have shared before, although still as intoxicating, this one also ignites your soul in ways you never thought possible, the feeling as though you are opening yourself up to him completely. It could be the romantic atmosphere, or it could be something more.

The kiss deepens, growing more passionate with each passing second. Heeseung’s other hand settles on your waist, drawing you flush against him. You can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, against your own, creating a rhythm that syncs perfectly with the dance of your lips.

Heeseung tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss further. His tongue gently brushes against your lips, seeking entry, and you part them willingly, allowing him to explore. The taste of him is intoxicating, sending a shiver down your spine.

The heat between you intensifies, your bodies pressing closer together as if trying to meld into one. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him even nearer. Heeseung responds with a low groan, the sound vibrating through you and igniting a fire in your belly.

His hand slowly begins to massage your tit, causing you to roll your head back and break the kiss, enjoying the feeling of being touched. Moans escape your throat as you relish in his contact. However, as Heeseung makes his way to capture your lips with urgency, you find yourself falling back, losing your footing and stumbling back onto the throne, dragging the man down with you.

Heeseung panics, terrified that his body weight has somehow hurt you upon impact. But as your lips find his again, all worries melt away with each stroke and swirl of your tongue against his. You are so lost in him that you fail to notice how your head hits the backrest of the throne, likely causing you a migraine in the hours to come.

The surroundings seem to fade as your world narrows down to just the two of you. The throne room, once a grand stage, now a silent witness to your burgeoning romance, adds an air of surreal magic to the moment. The tattered curtains sway gently with the breeze, and the faded decorations glint faintly in light, casting a soft glow that bathes you both in a warm, intimate embrace.

Grabbing your hips, Heeseung shifts you to sit more comfortably on the throne. His lips move from yours to your neck, exploring the tender skin there with a mix of reverence and desire. Your natural scent drives him wild, his nose ghosting over your pulse points before licking and sucking them gently.

The action causes you to whimper, legs spreading instinctively as he turns you into a puddle of arousal beneath him. It’s incredible how a man who has never touched a woman is somehow doing more for you than any experienced man ever could. It’s as if he came straight from a dream factory, complete with the sex function already installed, add-ons included. Even the way he holds you, his fingers digging into your hips just right, is enough to have your hips bucking into his.

"Heeseung," you moan, threading your fingers into his hair. With gentle force, you begin to push his head down, guiding him to where you need him most.

Eyes widening, Heeseung retreats slightly. "Y/N, I-"

"Please, Heeseung," you beg, your face a picture of desperation.

Heeseung wants nothing more than to rid you of your clothes and devour you like his life depends on it, but a constant, nagging fear lingers in the back of his mind: what if he does it wrong? This is the first time he'll even see a vagina up close, let alone have the pressure to please the woman he adores.

Of course, he has watched the porn tapes that Jongseong and Jaeyun somehow managed to collect from a shady dealer in Camden Market, and there are the magazines he looks at for some light reading, but never has he seen one in the flesh. His face goes slightly red, and you can see him retreating back to the boy who first stepped into the hotel room, panic and fear springing to life in his eyes as he contemplates the notion of giving you head.

Reaching over, you run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly in an attempt to ease his mind. "Hee, just do what feels right. I trust you."

The affirmation in your voice, coupled with the tender touch of your fingers, reassures him. Heeseung takes a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with newfound resolve. Slowly, he lowers himself between your thighs, his hands sliding up your legs and parting them gently.

With shaky fingers, he unbuttons your jean shorts and pulls them down, taking your panties along with them. His heart skips approximately three beats as he stares at your heat, its slight glisten caught in the faded overhead lights of the platform.

It's even more beautiful than he could ever have imagined, the heat radiating from it as it calls him closer, whispering pleas to be touched that only he can hear.

Gathering his courage, he starts with tentative kisses, his lips brushing against your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your centre. You can feel his breath, warm and teasing, and it makes your heart race even faster. His hands, steady now, grip your hips firmly, holding you in place as he finally reaches his destination.

Heeseung’s first touch is gentle, a soft press of his lips against your most sensitive spot. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching off the throne. Encouraged by your response, he grows bolder, his tongue darting out to taste you. The initial hesitancy fades away, replaced by a focused intensity as he explores, learning what makes you squirm and moan with pleasure.

The taste is foreign but far from unpleasant. He can see himself becoming addicted to you with each long stripe of his tongue up your folds. He closes his eyes, harnessing all his senses to taste you and hear your heaven-sent moans filter through his ears.

Your hands find his head, pushing him further in as you urge him to be a little more dominant, his soft licks now teasing you as you crave more. “Heeseung,” you begin, eyes closed while you practically hump his face, using his sharp nose to stimulate your nub. “Focus on my clit, please.” The instruction is so breathy that it doesn’t sound demanding at all but rather pleading.

Hearing your soft cries, Heeseung darts his tongue around clumsily until he comes across your sensitive nub, its swollen state making it easier to find. That was a worry of his after hearing countless conversations in uni from girls about men never finding it, yet, he had nothing to be anxious about because, despite other men’s incompetence, he latches onto it quickly, sucking and swirling his muscle around it.

The sounds of his slurping mixed with your groans of pleasure echo around the tunnel, truly transforming it into its branded name. He’s hitting all the spots, although sometimes lacking direction and ruining the rhythm, yet he always manages to find his way back to the spots you crave him.

Every stroke of his tongue, every gentle suck, drives you higher, the sensations building into an overwhelming crescendo. Your hands grip his hair tightly, your hips moving of their own accord, seeking more of the exquisite pleasure he’s giving you.

“Heeseung,” you moan, the sound of his name a desperate plea on your lips.

He responds with a low hum, the vibration adding another layer to the pleasure that’s consuming you. His tongue moves with increasing confidence, drawing out whimpers and cries from you that bounce straight to his semi-hard cock. The feeling of his mouth on you, his hands holding you steady, is almost too much to bear.

Your thighs clamp around his head, trapping him between your legs and signalling your impending climax. The feeling of suffocating at the hands of your pleasure feels like such a heavenly way to die that Heeseung doesn’t mind it one bit.

The tip of his tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, the ridgedness of him stimulating you over the edge and causing you to come undone around him, your entire upper body removing itself from the backrest and hunching over him, your fingers gripping his hair painfully as the high rushes through your veins.

“Fuck!” you scream out, your cunt riding his face as it spreads your juices over him, marking the man as your own.

Heeseung smiles as he feels you cum over his tongue, a swelling sense of pride enveloping his body as he makes you wriggle in ecstasy. He made a girl cum, him, the virgin who only 10 minutes ago hadn’t even seen a pussy before, and now here you are, losing yourself in euphoria all because of him and his newly experienced tongue.

He will give himself a pat on the back later.

Just as you begin to relax, your muscles unclenching and your heart settling into a steady rhythm, the lights above suddenly go out. The warm white and pink hues that had bathed the tunnel vanish, plunging you both into complete darkness.

For a moment, there is silence. The absence of light seems to amplify the sounds around you—the faint echo of your breathing, the soft rustle of fabric as Heeseung shifts nervously. The air feels heavier now, thick with uncertainty and a touch of apprehension.

“Fuck, the ride must shut off automatically,” you conclude, only grounded in your panic due to the touch from Heeseung. 

Heeseung lifts his head from between your legs, sitting on his feet as he looks around for a spec of light. Unlike the haunted house, there are no windows to even offer you a glimpse of light, it is pitch black and suddenly very, very cold.

Feeling around him, Heeseung retrieves your shorts from the ground before manoeuvring around in the darkness to help you put them back on. His heart sinks a little at the sudden interruption because although unconventional and spur of the moment, this could have been his opportunity to lose his v-card, finally ridding him of what he found a burden.

If his cock could talk, it would be sobbing as it gets left in his boxers for one more day. It craves to be inside you but for now, he just needs to focus on both of you getting out of the tunnel safely. 

Standing up, Heeseung feels for your hand in the darkness, gently pulling you up from the throne. “Hold onto my hand but let me go first. I’ll get us down,” he says with determination. His face is close to yours, his breath warm on your forehead, your body so near to his that you could almost feel the heat radiating between you.

Interlocking your fingers with his, you feel his confident movements as he tests the ground ahead. He stretches out his foot, tapping lightly to gauge if there’s solid ground beneath him, repeating the process around him. He’s grateful for the random fireman experience he attended in his last year of high school, recalling the lessons on how to navigate in darkness or low-visibility situations.

He repeats the tapping process four times, methodically feeling his way forward until he finally senses the edge of the platform. The drop feels daunting in the darkness, making Heeseung feel the same sense of vulnerability you had felt earlier. Everything seems more intimidating when you’re smaller and engulfed by darkness.

Heeseung’s voice cuts through the darkness, calm yet laced with concern. “I’ve found the edge. I’ll go first and help you down.” His grip on your hand tightens slightly, a reassuring squeeze that conveys both determination and comfort in equal measure.

“Be careful, Heeseung,” you whisper, your voice resonating faintly in the vast, silent tunnel.

Heeseung guides you to sit on the edge, his movements deliberate and careful. He positions himself next to you, his posture steady as he prepares to descend. “Wait there,” he instructs softly, before shifting his weight and gingerly sliding down the rough surface of the wall.

Each movement is cautious and deliberate. Heeseung avoids taking any unnecessary risks, mindful of the darkness that blankets you both. His hands grip the uneven edges of the wall, his feet finding purchase on the slight protrusions of the structure. He gently eases down until he finally finds stability on the ground.

Heeseung's mind races with unwelcome images of scurrying rats, the darkness amplifying his unease. His skin prickles with imagined sensations, the urge to escape the enclosed space growing stronger with each passing moment. He shakes off the disturbing thoughts, reminding himself firmly that he is in Scotland, far from the bustling streets of downtown New York.

Reaching out in the darkness, Heeseung’s hand finds your legs, and he squeezes them reassuringly, a silent gesture to remind you that he is there, a steady presence amidst the unsettling environment. "Okay, Y/N," he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and encouragement, "you can come down now."

You nod, though he cannot see it, your trembling arms inching closer to the edge. Your heart pounds in your chest, the platform feeling less secure than ever before. "Please catch me," you plead, your voice shaky with fear, hesitant to move until you hear his reassuring words.

"Always, Y/N. I’m right here," Heeseung murmurs, his lips pressing a kiss to your leg in a tender gesture of reassurance, letting his protective instincts guide him through the darkness, pushing aside his usual nervous demeanour.

Taking a shaky breath, you curse Heeseung inwardly for rendering your body weak with his earlier ministrations, his tongue that you were blessing now cursed in your mind. Your legs feel like jelly as you begin your descent, every movement wary. The darkness seems to press in around you, adding to your unease.

Heeseung’s hands are steady and sure as he guides you down, his touch gentle yet firm. You feel his support anchoring you, easing your fall despite the lingering fear. His presence beside you is a constant source of reassurance, his voice offering encouragement whenever doubt creeps in. “I got you, Y/N.”

Finally, your feet touch solid ground, the relief palpable as you stand in the blackout. Your hands find Heeseung’s waist, gratitude flooding your heart for his unwavering support through the ordeal as you stand there embracing one another.

"Thank you," you breathe, your voice a whisper of genuine appreciation as you lean into his reassuring touch. His thumbs graze your waist as he nods, “Like I said, always.”

With your hand securely in his, he moves meticulously and slowly through the maze of darkness and debris. You trust him completely and follow his path to safety. The tunnel echoes with the sound of your footsteps, the only audible reassurance in the otherwise eerie silence. Heeseung's grasp tightens encouragingly anytime you come across an invisible obstacle, his presence serving as a continuous anchor in the unnerving gloom.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity in the blackened tunnel, you emerge into the brightness of daytime at the end. The relief washes over you like a wave, the outside world a welcome contrast to the claustrophobic darkness you just escaped. Heeseung turns to you, his expression softened with relief and pride.

"We made it," he says softly, his voice carrying a mix of exhaustion and triumph. His hand squeezes yours gently. Nodding in agreement, you offer him a small smile back, just relieved to see his face once again.

There, at the edge of the moat, a ladder beckons you both to climb. Its rungs, weathered and rusted, speak of years spent in neglect. Despite its worn appearance, it stands as a symbol of escape and freedom from the underground labyrinth you ventured through.

Heeseung is just glad he doesn’t need to find another rusted tool to help him up this time. With a determined stride, he begins to ascend the ladder, each step bringing him closer to the surface and away from the shadows that had engulfed you moments before. The ladder creaks under his weight, but it holds steady, a testament to its enduring strength despite its aged appearance.

You follow closely behind, feeling the warm sunlight kiss your skin as you emerge from the depths. With each rung you climb, the darkness recedes further into memory, replaced by the promise of open skies and fresh air.

As you reach the top, Heeseung extends a hand to help you over the edge. Together, you stand on solid ground once more, the moat and tunnel behind you now a part of your shared adventure. The world around you seems brighter, more vivid, as if the ordeal has heightened your senses to appreciate the simplest joys of daylight and freedom.

Well, as much freedom as you have considering there is a whole national police force after you.

Looking at your saviour once more, you see your juices still drenched over his face and it elicits a small giggle from you. The sound causes Heeseung’s brows to quirk, questioning your sudden change in mood.

“You have a little something on your face,” you answer his silent question, reaching up to wipe him clean, your thumb brushes over his chin and cheeks, feeling the faint hint of stubble under your thumbprint. 

The moment is so tender despite the lewd action that resulted in this. His eyes fall shut as you continue to clean him, never missing a drop, leaving his mouth last. You lean up and kiss him ever so gently, his lips that are swollen from their labour meld with yours so beautifully, like they are made for you and only you.

As you kiss him, the tension of the moment begins to dissolve, replaced by a sense of intimacy and connection. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if to ensure you won't slip away. The stubble on his face grazes your skin gently, a contrast to the softness of his lips as they move against yours.

There's a lingering taste, a mix of sweetness and saltiness, that stays on his lips from moments before. It's a reminder of the passion shared, now tempered by this gentle act of cleaning up. 

When you finally break the kiss, your eyes meet his, and there's an unspoken understanding passing between you. It's not just about what happened, but about this moment of tenderness and care that followed. 

His fingers trace a delicate line from your waist to your jaw, his touch light yet firm, something u spoken lingering in the air. You lean into his touch, a small smile curving your lips, feeling the warmth of his hand as it cradles your face. The world around you seems to blur and fade, leaving only the two of you suspended in this moment of fragile yet profound intimacy.

Heeseung's heart pounds fiercely in his chest, each beat a testament to the whirlwind of emotions surging through him. Affection and reverence blend together, overwhelming his mind and filling him with a dizzying sense of attachment. Every fibre of his being is drawn to you, the intensity of his feelings almost nauseating in its potency.

He exhales slowly, his breath trembling as he gazes deeply into your eyes. His thumb strokes the apples of your cheeks, his touch gentle. He wants to tell you everything, to lay bare the depth of his emotions he feels for you.

"Y/N," he begins, his voice thick with emotion. "I think I-"

His words are abruptly cut off, his body tensing as he feels the cold, unforgiving pressure of a metallic object against the back of his head. The sudden intrusion of another presence is palpable, the heat radiating from the person standing dangerously close behind him.

"Don't fucking move."

taglist (closed): @yzzyhee @intromortal @zerobaseone-zhanghao @hooniehon @deobitifull @alvojake @sageryuri @slut4hee @binniesbabe @vveebee @minniejenseo @jebetwo @seunghancore @laurradoesloveu @yongbokified @jaehoonii @jaeyunluvr @melonvrs @criminalyun @enhastolemyheart @fakeuwus @flwrhoes @rayofsunshineeee @moonlighthoon @jaehyuniewifeu @en-ternals @haechonly @got-sunghooned @brownsugarbaybee @heeseungspookie @sunpov @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

wow

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

Wet- L.HS

☼ Lee Heeseung x Fem Reader

Synopsis- As temperatures rise, so does Heeseung’s dick.

WC: 4k+

Warnings: smut, one(1) food play-ish scene, water gun fight, cursing, nothing too extreme it’s just pwp

Smut warnings: Verbal and physical teasing, kissing, oral(f), unprotected sex, creampies, voyeurism and they (kinda) get caught, pool/outdoor sex

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are accurate in real life, MDNI!

A/N: This was originally supposed to be written for Sunghoon but I can’t get over that picture of Heeseung so I changed my mind. Enjoy!

You’re so hot

The summer sun warms the exposed areas of skin, but your water soaked shirt keeps you cool in the one hundred degree weather. God damn the sun and its harsh rays—cursing the land with heat waves and rising temperatures that force you and your friends to find ways to cool off.

Heeseung can’t help but stare.

Even as he feels a stream of water hit the back of his head, he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Especially when Jake takes aim and pulls the trigger of his water gun to shoot straight at the center of your chest. God bless the sun.

“Alright, pervert! You got me.” You run a hand through your wet hair, laughing to yourself as you make your way towards your friends and knock water guns with Sunoo as a small celebration.

Jake shoots you one last time, whining about how unfair you play. “Seriously, how did you even get back there? I swear I checked thrice! I want to switch teams!” You poke the muscle of bicep that’s outlined by his own soaking wet shirt, teasing him for his terrible skills at his own game.

“Maybe you should’ve checked better.” With a click of your tongue you prance towards the pool, placing a palm upon the hot pavement to determine the heat. Heeseung watches as you stand up and pull your shirt off of yourself, back arching and neck rolling back as you peel the sticking fabric off of your body to reveal your bikini.

He admires the way you swiftly throw your shirt to the side, grabbing your beach towel and placing it next to the pool to sit on. Plopping yourself onto it, you dip your freshly painted toes into the water and splash them around.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Jay startles Heeseung from his trance, snapping his head to see the younger is now the only person standing next to him, a quirked eyebrow following his question. “I can’t.”

Heeseung replies simply, turning back just in time to notice Sunghoon handing you a small ice cream cone. He’s unable to focus for long as his attention is caught by Sunoo loudly laughing from the pool, where Jake is swimming around with an open mouth, begging Sunghoon to at least attempt to throw his own cone into his mouth from where he stands next to you.

“I don’t think Sunghoon would like that.” Heeseung sighs, shaking his head and deciding his own fate is to watch you from afar. To admire you from a distance.

But Jay wouldn’t let that happen. He doesn’t call himself “Heeseung’s number one wing man” for no reason, which is why he encourages his friend to go after you. Even if Sunghoon seems to be the only guy in your field of vision.

Of course, you’re just friends. At least that’s what you both claim. Heeseung doesn’t believe it though, in fact, he believes you two have been keeping it on the low. He’s created a whole fantasy relationship between his two friends— a fantasy that he isn’t a part of.

“Your first problem is not Sunghoon.” Jay brings up the topic once they’ve made their way into the cool house, alone. “The problem is you thinking there’s something going on between them.” Heeseung scoffs, taking a beer from Jay then turning his head to look at you through the window.

Your ice cream cone is melting in the hot sun, creamy liquid running through your fingers and down your forearm and Heeseung shivers. He’s always known he has a strong imagination, but with the visual stimulation right there; the suggestively colored desert leaving trails of itself down your arm, he can only imagine how his is own cream would adorn your body.

“Are you even listening?” Jay smacks his friend’s head, snapping him out of his scandalous fantasy. “You need to make a move. And I promise you Sunghoon won’t care. Sure, he’s a little protective but he’s your best friend too—he knows what’s best for both of you.”

Heeseung only pays attention to the first half of Jay’s rant, falling back into a trance as you finally lick a long stripe up your forearm, swapping your ice cream cone to the other hand to suck on your messy fingers. He only looks away when Sunghoon grabs your wrist and forces your fingers further down your throat and you gag for a second, then bring your ice cream and spit covered hand to the back of Sunghoon’s head, pushing him into the pool with Jake and Sunoo.

“You’re so right.” Heeseung’s voice is barely audible to Jay. “What-”before Jay can even question him, the older is patting him on the back and muttering a quick thanks you’re the best and rushing outside. Jay stands there for a second, sighs, then quickly entertains himself with an unopened bottle of vodka. He’ll pay Sunghoon back later.

You move your attention from the pool to the house just in time to see Heeseung sitting down next to you. You note that he looks nervous, maybe even shy, but you don’t say anything to humiliate him. Yet.

“Hi, Hee. What’s up?” You chirp out before bringing what’s left of your ice cream to your lips, licking a sensual stripe along the side. You don’t break eye contact with Heeseung as you twist the cone between your fingers, coating the entire expanse with your tongue.

Heeseung gulps, adam’s apple bobbing as he watches a drop of melted cream land on your chest, then can’t help but follow it with his eyes as it glides down your skin over your right breast, then between your breasts, and finally landing somewhere in the covered area of your bikini top.

As if he wasn’t just ogling your body, he looks back up to see you staring at him in amusement, and finally answers your question. “Nothing.”

You nod, smirking to yourself and quickly glancing towards all four of your friends now in the pool. “Nothing, huh?” You repeat and he nods eagerly.

“So what about that?” Your gaze drops to his lap, and only then does he realize how hard he’s gotten over this short interaction. “That seems pretty up to me.” You tease, letting out a giggle before abruptly standing up and stretching out the hand currently holding your ice cream.

Heeseung grabs the cone, confused but so love-struck that he’s barely processing anything at the moment. You push his hand closer to his mouth, watching as drops land onto the crotch of his swim trunks and he once again follows your gaze.

Grabbing his cheek with one hand and pushing the ice cream past his lips with the other, you smile widely at him. “Finish for me, yeah?”

.☼.

If yesterday really happened, then Heeseung is in a slight dilemma. After arriving home last night, he did finish for you. At least, he hopes that’s what you meant by finish. Perhaps you really did mean the yummy treat but he knows you. He knows your double meanings and your teasing jokes.

But this makes his situation all the worse. To anyone else, these interactions would have confirmed your requited feelings for Heeseung, but it’s you. You’re so confusing.

With the way you’re so teasing with everyone, and the way you show affection in questionable manners. Even the way you openly treat all and any of your friends as if they’re your boyfriend.

Heeseung remembers when Sunoo complimented the scent of your lip gloss, so in return you kissed him for a solid five seconds, stating that you “just wanted him to taste it”. Yeah, sure.

Or the time Jake wanted you to clean up his eyebrows for him, which resulted in you sitting in his lap for fifteen stiff minutes applying your entire skin care routine on him.

Whatever you have going on in your head, it confuses Heeseung. Which is why he decided he’s finally going to man up and ask you on a date at your daily pool hang out.

At least, he’s going to try to. Hopefully if you’re not wearing his favorite red bikini. Hopefully if you somehow magically forgot the events of yesterday. Hopefully if he just grows some balls and lets his feelings free for the first time in years. Probably not.

.☼.

It’s safe to say, you did not forget the events of yesterday, you’re definitely wearing Heeseung’s favorite red bikini, and he has not at all grown any balls to even make eye contact with you yet.

He’s been here for an hour. One whole agonizing hour of watching you climb onto Jake’s shoulders and wrestle Sunghoon who is on Sunoo’s shoulders. Thankfully, Sunoo has thighs of steel and is able to keep Sunghoon steady while you push and pull all in an attempt to knock him over.

Heeseung’s jaw clenches and his eyes don’t leave your hands— your hands that are currently touching up every part of Sunghoon’s body. He contemplates leaving now and skipping out on the guy’s night he and his friends hold biweekly.

Your fingers grip Sunghoon’s biceps before making their way to his chest, nails scratching their way down his ridged stomach, letting out frustrated groans as you poke and poke at Sunghoon’s body.

Oh, how Heeseung wishes it was his body you were touching. He can’t take it anymore, standing up quickly and pushing his lawn chair back, where it hits the floor with a loud crash before making his way into the house just like he did yesterday.

The crash distracts you and Sunghoon takes this as an advantage as he swiftly loosens your harsh grip on Jake’s shoulders and pushes you down into the water.

From outside of the pool, Jay sighs to himself before following Heeseung back inside, finding him snooping through Sunghoon’s home bar.

“She’s not going to fuck you if you’re not sober, you know.” Heeseung jumps at the sound of Jay’s voice, almost dropping one of the expensive bottles of alcohol.

He shrugs and continues snooping. “Who said anything about fucking?” His reply is nonchalant but his best friend can see right through his act. “Your eyes say everything I need to know.” Jay laughs to himself but Heeseung doesn’t find it funny.

“Whatever. She’s not into me like that anyways.” Heeseung speaks like he’s trying to convince himself, but Jay can hear the hopeful tone in his voice. “Trust me. She was eye fucking you earlier when you weren’t looking.”

Jay barely gets the sentence out before Heeseung is visibly perking up. “Really?!” His face is bright and his eyes are glossy and wide. “Relax, man. Don’t pop a boner in front of me.” Jay teases his friend and Heeseung rolls his eyes in embarrassment, because he definitely would grow stiff at just the mention of your name.

Jay heads back towards the sliding door but turns back to Heeseung before he opens it. “By the way, Hoon invited her to stay the night with us also.” He smiles to himself before continuing his sentence. “So please try to keep it down if you do happen to make it past first base.” With that, he makes his way back to the pool and leaves Heeseung with a heavy problem in his swim trunks.

.☼.

Heeseung opens his eyes to the sound of obnoxious snoring echoing throughout Sunghoon’s living room. He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep but by the looks of it, everyone else seems to have knocked out by now too. Closing his eyes, he decides to try to fall back asleep. Until he’s startled awake-

“Heeseung.”

Shooting his eyes back open, he sits up from his place on the couch and looks around the dark room. With his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, he can only barely make out your figure kneeling next to him on the floor. “What the fuck are you doing?” He whispers a little too loudly and you stand up, a palm covering his mouth swiftly as you take place onto the couch next to him.

Heeseung is a big man, meaning he already takes up most of the space, leaving you only a small sliver of cushion to sit on. So, you climb up onto his lap to get comfortable— because of course you would. Stiffening up from under you, he makes eye contact with you the best he can with the dim lighting, only the moonlight peeking through the curtains.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You whisper, slowly taking your hand off of his mouth and trailing it down his chest and stomach, finally resting it at his side. Your thumb swipes comfortably there, almost as if you’re reassuring him, letting him know that this is real. “And I’m bored.” You lean in closer to him, your hand now coming up to his chest and pushing him to lay flat underneath you, his head landing softly on the armrest of the couch.

He gulps, big doe eyes looking up at you almost innocently. But you know that’s not the case. You’ve seen the way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. Seeing him drool over you is one thing but seeing him think he’s being slick with it? It, makes you way more aroused than you’d like to admit.

However, it’s taken too long for him to act on his desires, so you decide to do it for him. “Wanna help me?” Your voice is sultry and low, and Heeseung’s tummy feels warm as it stirs with excitement when he nods. Leaning down slowly, you stop as soon as the tip of your nose brushes Heeseung’s. Nodding your head slightly, you rub your nose against his almost domestically, before leaning in and lightly pressing your lips to his.

The kiss doesn’t last long, as you’re quick to pull away and smile. But Heeseung isn’t pleased yet, instead cupping the back of your head with his hand and pulling your face back towards his. Your lips smash together almost painfully, but you’re distracted quickly as his tongue immediately pushes its way into your mouth. It’s warm and wet, strong as it glides against yours in a teasing manner.

You catch his bottom lip between yours, sucking on it for a second before biting it softly and pulling away, watching as it bounces back now glossy and red. Heeseung expects more, but to his surprise, you just jump off of his lap and quietly walk to the door that leads outside.

Looking back, you watch his silhouette as he runs a hand through his hair and sits up again. You turn back to unlock the door, already taking your shirt off to expose your bare torso before turning to him one last time. “You coming?”

.☼.

If anyone had told Heeseung two days ago that he would be not only skinny dipping at 2am with you—but shoving his tongue down your throat as well, he wouldn’t believe it.

But, lo and behold, he currently has your back pressed to the edge of the pool with your legs wrapped around his naked waist, lips locked and swollen.

It all happened in a rush, between you stripping to nothing in front of him to him following your lead and ending up intertwined, he suddenly finds himself in a dream-like state.

Was this really happening? The girl he’s been craving for years is finally giving him a chance? Heeseung feels like happiest man on earth right now, and judging by the little moans you let out every now and then, he thinks you may feel the same.

“Heeseung.” You practically whimper as he drags his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at your warm skin. His lips kiss down your chest softly, landing on one of your hard nipples. He pecks it so so softly, almost afraid of hurting you, but you want it to hurt. Grabbing the back of his head and pushing your chest forward, you encourage him to take your nipple into his mouth and he easily gets the hint.

He’s barely done anything and you’re already shaking in his arms, gripping his biceps and throwing your head back with a loud moan. “Heeseung- I need you to fuck me.”

He stops immediately, then slowly detaches his mouth from your nipple and looks up at you. “Yeah? Want me to fuck this pretty pussy?” He thrusts his hips up, his movements slowed by the water but his cock still manages to brush against your folds. You bite your lip, nodding your head eagerly and Heeseung smiles. “Let me get a taste of it first.”

Without waiting for your response, he lifts you up and places you at the edge of the pool, your pussy sat deliciously in front of where he keeps himself afloat.

He almost drools, noting the way he can still see your slick drip out of you despite your whole body being drenched in pool water. Heeseung wastes no time, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you closer so his tongue can lap at your slit.

The pleasure sends a shock through your body, your back arching almost painfully and your hips push themselves harder against Heeseung’s face. He’s forced so close into your cunt that you can feel each feature—his nose stimulating your clit as his tongue teases your entrance and his plush lips sucking almost obnoxiously all while his chin is already slippery with your arousal.

“Ah-fuck!” He’s only been at it for a few minutes yet you’re already so close. But this isn’t want you want. No, as much as you want to release all over his pretty nose, you didn’t seduce him just to finish so quickly. So, you use all of your strength to pull him off of you and scoot away. “Need you to fuck me, now.”

That’s all it takes for Heeseung to lift himself out of the pool, pick you up, and then throw you on the nearest lounging chair. Thank fuck for Heeseung convincing Sunghoon to buy these at the start of the summer. Otherwise he may have opted for fucking you on the itchy grass.

Grabbing his face, you pull him down, kissing him with a sloppy force while you grow more impatient by the second. “How do you want it?” He’s so polite as he asks, but just the idea of him caring about your pleasure is so arousing. You turn around, placing your cheek on the cushion of the pool lounger and wiggling your ass to taunt him.

It works, of course, and Heeseung takes his place behind you. He slaps his thick girth on the crevice of your ass, feeling the heat between your bodies mix with the humid summer night air. “Hurry, please.” You whine but he just shushes you, dropping his cock to gather your slick on his tip.

You’re tired of waiting, pushing yourself back only slightly to feel him enter you just an inch. “Oh, God.” You gasp, caught off guard by the stretch of just the head. He fights the urge to fully push himself in, instead gently sliding in more, your walls clenching tighter and tighter as each inch stretches you out, a tingling feeling fluttering in your stomach.

He fully bottoms out, standing still with his hands on your hips for a second, before somehow pushing even deeper. You squeak, brows furrowing as you try to ignore the pain of the threatening size currently stuffing you full. You open your eyes, looking back to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes shut.

You reach your hand back and tap his own hand, letting him know he can finally move. He nods, leaning forward a bit to hover his body closer to yours. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” You smile at him for a second, but it’s quickly replaced by an open mouthed moan as he pulls back a few inches, then slams himself back in.

Building up a steady pace, he thrusts a few times before finally letting out his first moan. And God, was it beautiful. “Yes-yes let me hear you, baby.” Your voice is weak as his thrusts push your whole body against the chair, your breath unsteady and shaky with each meet of your hips.

It feels amazing, but you can’t help but feel that Heeseung is trying to be gentle with you, which you don’t want. Pushing yourself back again, you meet his thrusts with quiet hmph hmph hmph noises that catch his attention. “You need more? Yeah? My cock isn’t enough for you, needy baby?” He coos at you but you know he’s still holding back. “Please, Heeseung. More.” Your fragile voice ignites something in him, and you’re suddenly being picked up by your hair.

Heeseung grabs your wrists and pins them to the top of the lounger, romantically intertwining his fingers between yours before aggressively snapping his hips against your ass. You let out an almost-too-loud moan, but it only fuels Heeseung more. Your bodies are close and he can’t pull back fully, so instead he fucks into you at a fast, almost blinding pace.

He watches your ass jiggle as it meets his pelvis, the bouncing fat sending him to an almost trance like state. The only thing that snaps him out of it is your whiny voice. “Harder, Heeseung, harder!” He pulls out fully, not giving you time to process his actions as he sits down on the lounger and pulls you on top of him, slipping his cock back into your heat easily.

Thrusting up once, twice, then a third time, he watches your thighs tremble as you try to hold yourself up for him. He finds it cute, how you’ve teased him for so long only to end up too cock drunk to even ride him. He wraps his arms around your body, pulling you flat against him so you’re chest to chest with your face in his neck.

He slowly drags his cock out of you, then fully shoves it in, a loud squelching noise following. “So fucking wet. So fucking noisy.” He grits his teeth, clenching his jaw as he fucks up into your cunt in an almost inhumane pace. “Ah ah ah, shit! I’m cumming, Heeseung!”

Your warning barely falls from your lips as you clench impossibly tight around him, body stiffening for a second until your toes curl and you feel the knot in your stomach releasing with a tingling sensation spreading throughout your entire body, which then goes limp against Heeseung’s.

This encourages him to thrust harder, chasing his own release that he can already sense creeping up on him. His fingers dig into your ass, nails leaving indents as his hips don’t slow down. The sound of your release mixing with the slapping of his balls on your ass is all too much, and he finally lets himself go.

“Gonna cum in you, baby. Gonna cum so fucking deep-fuck!” He bites down on your shoulder as he cums, hips stilled and cock stuffed so deep inside of you, you’re sure you’ll end up pregnant even on birth control.

He slowly lowers his hips, caressing your back soothingly as if he’s apologizing for his harsh treatment before. “Was that okay? Did I hurt you?” He cups your cheeks to look into your eyes, only to meet your fucked out expression and lazy smile. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

That was enough to almost have Heeseung stiffening up again, if not for the sound of the sliding door opening and Jay’s pissed off voice. “Brought you guys some towels.” He walks out with a hand covering his eyes and the other holding out two beach towels, which he throws on the floor carelessly, then walks back to the door. “I told you to keep it down if you got past first base.”

[chaconnehoon-reblogs]

hii!!! i just read obsession and OH MY GOD it was so amazing, youre a great writer!!!! 🫶🫶 i was giggling for the most part, yn and heeseung are so cute 🥹 i was so surprised with how bold heeseung got throughout the fic, but i think it fit the character! ill be checking out more from you, and im abt to read the follow up of obsession <3 i hope youre well btw :)

You are so sweet🖤 I’m glad you enjoyed my work enough to want to read more, your kind words really mean a lot more to me than you think thank you !!