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cutehoons02 · 5 days ago

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Cause I always think about you

Spiderman story (Jake)

*pairing: mysterious Jay Batman x student Girl

*trope: grumpy boy x sunshine girl

*synopsis: From being little “Sim,” Jake’s younger sister to protect and adore, you’ve become the sharp-tongued girl, a little rebellious and capable of holding your own against anyone especially Jay, your brother’s best friend. Even though he insists you’re just a nuisance, bringing chaos day after day, he can’t take his eyes off you, nor can he control the jealousy that burns inside him every time another guy gets too close. You and Jay are like light and darkness, you think with your heart, he with his head. You seem so distant, and yet so close, especially when you argue, tease each other, and the attraction between you grows silently, hidden behind your constant back and forth but the more you try to play with him, to peel back and reveal his softer side, the more he hardens, torn between the desire he feels and the fear of admitting to emotions that could change everything in your lives. Because Jay isn’t just any guy. Like your brother, Jay is a "vigilante" and he knows for certain that if anyone were to discover his obsession with you, you would become his greatest weakness and Batman can’t afford to be weak.

*tags: Jay and Y/n have always teased each other, Jay is gruff at first with Y/n, Y/n is slightly cheeky and a bratty girl but with a big heart, fluffy moments, jay pretends not to tolerate Y/n but deep down he's been in love with her for a long time, lots of kisses, a lot of tension, constant bickering, touchy couple, masturbation (F), wound care with kisses, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex (don't horny ppl) +18, statement, jealousy, possession and rich vibes, pet names (Barbie,darling)

Living in New York without a car had never been a problem for you. In fact, you had always felt perfectly at ease getting around by subway or taxi, headphones in your ears and either a mango matcha or a caramel macchiato in hand. The only exception came in recent months, when twice a week you had to attend a masterclass on fashion show reviews held at a satellite campus in a more peripheral area of the city. It wasn’t deserted—there were plenty of students and professors around—but at that hour of the night, the neighborhood took on a different atmosphere, and for a girl, it wasn’t exactly safe. Classes always ended late, almost at midnight, and the thought of taking three different subway lines to get home made you feel anything but secure. So, every Wednesday and Friday, your older brother, Jake, would come to pick you up, waiting outside the lobby in his grey-and-black McLaren, parked far too conspicuously. A loud, flashy “lifesaver,” annoying in its own way, but one that spared you the anxiety of the nighttime journey and honestly, spending an hour in the car with your brother was a welcome distraction from exams and your looming thesis, because Jake made you feel safe but also never judged.

That night, however, as you stepped through the glass doors of the building with your laptop clutched to your chest and your bag slung over your shoulder, you froze under the lobby’s streetlight. Jake’s McLaren wasn’t there. Instead, a matte-black Lamborghini Aventador SVJ waited in front of you, the kind of car that intimidated anyone who happened to pass by: aggressive, elegant, and obscenely expensive. It didn’t even look parked it looked posed, ready to devour the asphalt and the gaze of whoever dared to look at it and behind the wheel wasn’t just anyone.

It was Park Jongseong….aka Jay, your brother’s best friend since they were fourteen. Jay was the kind of guy who could charm half the world into thinking he was approachable, while in reality hiding far more than he ever let on. And you knew that all too well. Unfortunately for you, it had only taken seeing him once to never forget him again. You were barely fourteen the first time he had shown up at your house, a psychology book under his arm, carrying himself with that serious, good-boy demeanor—trying to act a little too grown-up for his age. Out of all the boys you had ever met, he had been the only one not to falter for even a second under your smile, not to look back at you twice, even when you knew you were the center of attention, not to give you the effortless attention that everyone else always showered you with and maybe that was exactly what had doomed you, because you hated when someone didn’t give you the recognition you wanted. And now he was there, sitting in his black Lamborghini, sharp jawline lit by the streetlamps, dark messy hair you used to love before he started slicking it back with “grown-up” gel, and those predatory eyes that always seemed to study everything and everyone.

Jay was too much, too handsome, too intelligent, too mysterious for his own good and you hated him for the simple fact that he had never given you the satisfaction of falling at your feet. You were the queen of the campus, and he had known from the very first day he saw you that you would always be the center of attention, but him… he wasn’t interested in that part of you and that was exactly the problem because you wanted, more than anything, to be seen by him for who you really were.

Your pink satin Miu Miu ballerinas, topped with crystal bows, tapped quickly against the pavement as you walked toward the Lamborghini, and the contrast almost made you laugh. A predator’s car: dark, lethal, menacing waiting for you on the other side of the city, while you approached in glittering little princess shoes. The mismatch was strange, but it made your heart race a little more than you would have liked.

The passenger-side window slid down slowly, and Jay’s perfect profile came into view. You caught the sharp lines of his face, his chiseled jaw, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. He didn’t even glance at you, as if he could sense your presence without ever bothering to acknowledge it. Hugging your bag to your shoulder, you leaned slightly toward him, trying to pull his attention.

“What are you doing here, Jay Park? Don’t tell me you lost a bet and my brother forced you to come all the way across the city to pick me up!”

You said it with a bold smile tugging at your lips, but he didn’t react not even a flicker. Your mouth fell into a small, childlike pout until his voice finally cut through the air. Deep, slightly husky, colored with that unmistakable Northwestern American accent.

“Get in, Barbie. It’s late, and I’m not in the mood to play with you.”

You rolled your eyes at the sound of that nickname falling from his lips. Barbie. Always that damned word… He had branded you with it the very first time he saw you at fourteen: wearing a pale-pink designer sweater, a flouncy skirt with embroidered roses, ballet flats, a high ponytail with a white scrunchie tied in a bow and, of course, your braces strung with every shade of pink. From that day on, he never missed a chance to call you that and all because you were obsessed with pink. There wasn’t a single day you didn’t wear at least one detail of it. Sometimes it was your nails, other times your bag. Tonight, it was your Miu Miu denim skirt with jeweled buttons and your crystal-bow flats. Pink had become your signature, your trademark. Some girls had their red lipstick, others their perfectly bleached hair every six months, or a ring they never took off. You had pink.

And he knew you hated it when he called you Barbie. It was his favorite way to drive you crazy.

The scissor door lifted with a sleek, wing-like motion, and you bent down to slide into the car. For a second, your breath caught. Black leather, gold accents, touchscreens everywhere it felt more like stepping into a spaceship than a racecar andthen there was the scent: light tobacco, a hint of cherry sweetness, and vanilla undertones. Only one name came to mind. Tom Ford. One of Jay’s favorites.

You buckled your seatbelt but couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. Jay’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel before he started the engine, the roar echoing like a living beast. You shifted in your seat, crossing your legs slowly, your denim skirt riding up just a little. Of course, he didn’t so much as twitch to look at you, which only deepened your pout and that restless prickling under your skin.

Why wouldn’t he give you even a glance? You weren’t ugly. Quite the opposite, you were one of the prettiest, most popular girls on campus, with a line of guys constantly DMing you on Instagram, begging to take you out. So, with an exasperated huff, you turned toward him dramatically.

“You know, it’s usually considered polite to greet someone. Especially someone you’ve known for… what? Eight years? Yes, exactly eight years. By now, I’m practically family to you,” you said, watching him closely with a sweet smile.

You saw his veined hand rake through his hair, soft, messy, blessedly free of gel tonight. That hair had always been one of the things you wanted to touch the most.

“I don’t need to greet you, Barbie,” he muttered, eyes fixed straight ahead, as though you didn’t exist. You folded your arms across your chest, pretending to be offended.

“Oh? And why wouldn’t you want to greet me?” you asked, your gaze lingering on his hands as he shifted gears. This time, his lips curved into a faint smirk...like he wanted to see how far you’d go just to make him notice you.

“Because if I turned to look at you, my eyes would inevitably land on something pink. And I hate pink, Barbie.” Your mouth fell open at that. Hating pink? Really? Sure, he was always brooding with you, but you never imagined his distaste stretched beyond your personality to the very colors you wore. Rolling your eyes theatrically, you shot back:

“You know, Jay, studying fashion has taught me a few things. And I think I finally understand why you’re so obsessed with black. It’s a color that speaks of mystery, power, wealth… and yes, allure. But do you know the perfect combination? Black and pink. One side is mystery, the other a touch of the ethereal, the enchanting princess-like. It’s a contrast that always works.”

You leaned in with a sly smile and, without fear, nudged him lightly with your elbow. Your words buzzed playfully in the air of the car, and though he kept his eyes locked on the road, the subtle clench of his jaw and the quick, almost imperceptible glance he shot your way betrayed him. He was listening. Maybe even carefully.

Your eyes sparkled as you kept talking.

“If someone asked me to choose between Marilyn’s pink gown in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and Audrey’s black Givenchy dress in Breakfast at Tiffany’s… I honestly wouldn’t know what to say. One is pure sensuality, the aura of a diva who knows exactly the power she has over others. The other is timeless elegance, the air of a career woman who knows her worth and I’d like to give both impressions to the people I meet.”

This time, Jay’s head turned ever so slightly, his eyes flicking over you for a second before returning to the road. Hisvoice, low and husky, cut through the silence of the car.

“You’d pull off both without even trying, Barbie. In fact, I think you should lean more toward black outfits, and if you really love pink, use it as an accent something that makes it stand out. But me? I’d always choose black. Any occasion.” He said it while driving across the Brooklyn Bridge as if the entire thing belonged to him, and your eyes widened before a daring smile lit up your face.

“Wait… was that a compliment? Hold on, hold on...did you just give me your first compliment?” you asked, covering your mouth with your hands and kicking your legs like an excited child. He exhaled, a half-smile tugging at his lips, though it never quite reached his eyes. Still, you caught it—the way he struggled not to keep his gaze on you, even if he didn’t want you to notice.

“Don’t get cocky, Barbie. It’s just an observation. You’ve got the body and that… aura. You could wear a trash bag and still find a way to make it look… cute. With your personality. Or with all those accessories you hoard.” A mischievous chuckle escaped your lips, your eyes glinting with amusement. Maybe, just maybe, Jay did find you intriguing, but he was just too afraid to admit it. After all, you were his opposite: you were light, he was darkness; you were chaos, he was pragmatic; you loved color, he wrapped himself in black. And perhaps, without even knowing it yet, the two of you completed each other.

“Wow. Jay Park admitting I wouldn’t look ridiculous even in a trash bag… I’m writing that in my secret diary. Because this, right here, is not an ordinary day.” You saw him roll his eyes, his fingers tightening on the wheel, before he shot you a glare.

“God, you’re insufferable,” he muttered, glancing out at New York at night his favorite hour to be alive.

“And yet, here I am. In your car. Not Jake’s,” you said, leaning in toward him with that defiant glint in your eyes.

“Speaking of which, why isn’t my brother here? Don’t tell me you lost a bet…” You knew all about their stupid wagers, especially since the seven of them shared each other’s darkest secrets and never missed a chance to make the loser do something embarrassing or unbearable.

“Jake’s busy. He’s got a statistics exam tomorrow.” His voice was flat, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and you tilted your head, thoughtful.

“Oh, right… he did mention that last week. But I didn’t think it was tomorrow. If he’d told me, I would’ve called someone else. You know what’s weird, though? I would’ve expected him to ask Heeseung or Sunghoon to come get me. Not you. I mean...I’m not complaining but you knows I always try to talk to you, and you never pay me any attention. It’s like you’ve disliked me from the very first moment we met.”

You crossed your arms, fixing him with an accusatory stare. Jay stopped at a red light and finally turned his head fully toward you. His eyes roamed over you slowly, as if he were reading straight through you, and the corner of his lips tugged into a faint smirk before he spoke.

“Just because I don’t talk to you much… doesn’t mean I don’t see you. Or that I don’t know you. Or that I don’t know exactly what you like and what you hate.” Your throat went dry at his words. So the pragmatic, mysterious Jay had been watching you all along—just without showing it?

“So you do watch me, huh? Interesting. Want me to tell you what that means? It means that deep down, you pretend not to notice me so you can look different from everyone else. But the truth is, you like me. And what you really think of me isn’t what you show.”

He raised his brows, a dry cough slipping past his lips, before shaking his head. The light turned green, and the car leapt forward with a growl.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a little too full of yourself, Y/n? And don’t get clever with me, Barbie. You’re not ready for what I’d really think of you.” You bit your lip lightly, a sudden shiver running down your spine because you were far too curious about what Jay actually thought of you. A small pout formed on your lips.

“I already know what you think of me, Jay,” you said in a teasing voice, glancing at him slyly from the corner of your eye as he wove past the cars, most of them pulling aside to let him through like he was a king claiming the road.

For the first time, he really turned fully toward you, not just a glance, but a slow one that scanned you from head to toe as if he wanted to X-ray you. His eyes slid over your soft white Ralph Lauren sweater, adorned with the pink embroidered logo on the side, then lingered on your Miu Miu skirt with tiny sequins catching the streetlights and the glow from the storefronts, on your long legs covered only by thin heels that made you look like a princess, and finally on your face: you had long beautiful lashes, cheeks flushed from the cold and the approaching autumn season, hair loose with a faint fruity scent that wasn’t too strong, falling over your shoulders and inevitably grazing your slightly ample curves for your frame, and the gloss on your lips made you seem even more…tempting. And he didn’t want to give in to you because you didn’t know it, but Jay was fighting a silent war within himself. To him, you had always been a thorn in his side: he hated flashy girls, loud ones, obsessed with colors and useless frills. But you… You were different, or rather, you were everything he should have avoided in his dark life, yet you were the only thing that continued to draw him in like a moth to a flame.

It drove him crazy to think that he had seen you grow up with pink braces, glittery backpacks, and spoiled little-girl expressions, and now you had become a woman the entire campus desired. But he didn’t want you like everyone else; he didn’t want you to show off, not to brag. No, Jay wanted you to break; he wanted every smile, every pout, just for himself. He wanted to be the only one to make you blush, the only one who could caress you like a fragile doll or press you against leather seats like a woman to ruin without remorse. He ran his tongue over his lower lip as he accelerated, the roar of the Lamborghini punctuating his thoughts, and then, in a low voice, he asked: “And what would you know, Barbie, about what I really think of you?” You straightened slightly in the seat, adjusting your skirt over your bare thighs, and replied with a somewhat challenging air, lifting your chin as if to project an aura of superiority: “Easy. You’ve known me for a long time, and I’d bet my life you think I’m just a brainless Barbie. Always talking about fashion, obsessed with pink and luxury things you probably think I’m one of those girls who chase the first boy to be the queen of campus. Basically, to you, I’m a frivolous little girl, blunt and used to getting everything I want with a snap of my fingers.”

You lowered your gaze, knowing most people didn’t like you because you weren’t afraid to be yourself. Those words hit him harder than you intended. Jay’s jaw clenched, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he gripped tighter. Frivolous? Superficial? Seeking attention? No, he couldn’t accept that. You attracted attention even without trying, and that drove him mad. He couldn’t stand your way of speaking, laughing, teasing like it came naturally. That’s what made him lose it. Because he knew that if he ever took you seriously, he would never let you go. He shot you a sharp glance, ran a hand through his wavy hair, and turned back toward you: “Don’t say bullshit, Barbie. You have no idea how little that you just said resembles who you really are. I’m telling you, you have no clue what I think of you and maybe you shouldn’t do.” You tucked your hair behind your shoulders with a slow, almost distracted gesture and looked first around the car, then at him with an innocent smile that was anything but naïve. You tilted your head and whispered: “So? What do you really think of me, Jay?” You brought a finger to your lips and tapped it curiously, and he clenched his jaw—a tic you had learned to recognize when he was irritated or cornered, and you loved seeing him like that, exasperated by your questions or statements. “Better if you don’t know, Barbie,” he said with a hoarse but slightly amused voice, knowing you were too curious for your own good. You made a slightly angry face because you wanted to know what that boy really thought of you. For a moment, the engine seemed to be the only sound in the air. Then Jay turned sharply and cleared his throat.

“Alright, if you’re so curious to know what I think of you, I’ll tell you. I indeed think you’re a Barbie, that’s the nickname I gave you, and I don’t regret calling you that from the first day I saw you. Sometimes you’re spoiled, arrogant, but not frivolous, because I see how much effort you put into what you want, into fashion, into your future… I see more than you think, even if you don’t realize it. And the thing that drives me the most insane is that you never use your beauty to get anything. You don’t settle for admiration, you want to conquer everything on your own.” He bit his lower lip lightly. “And sometimes you drive me crazy, Barbie. With your impertinence, that sharp tongue that never stops… I swear, sometimes I just want to…” He cut himself off, but it was too late you had heard everything. You widened your eyes, surprised at how much truth there was in his words. Slowly, you crossed your legs, sliding your skirt slightly higher, and leaned toward him, whispering with a cheeky smile near his earlobe: “And how exactly would you make me shut up when I tease you, hmm?” You watched his knuckles tighten on the wheel. Jay rolled his eyes as if trying to banish the thought of you so close, and finally, he snapped at you: “…You really don’t want to know. Because the only way I can think of, Barbie, has nothing to do with words. It would be shutting you up with my mouth on yours… or pinning you against the seat until you forget your own name.” He said it with a smirk, his eyes on you, and he knew he’d won the second your lips parted to reply, but no sound came. The silence that followed was razor-sharp. You just stared at him, half shocked, half wearing that defiant little smile you couldn’t suppress. Jay turned his gaze back to the road, eyes hard, knuckles whitening around the wheel betraying the fact that he had let slip far more than he wanted. And he hated the power you had over him.

The moment those filthy words escaped, Jay cursed himself. He wasn’t even supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be the one picking you up, he was supposed to be out watching the city. But Jake had asked, with that desperate puppy tone he reserved only for him, because Jay was the hardest to sway. And you… Well, you complicated everything. The thought of you being alone, an hour from the apartment in the middle of the night, had clenched his jaw instantly. New York at night didn’t forgive. He knew that better than anyone, with what he did in secret as a vigilante. The idea of you walking these streets alone, where danger lurked at every corner it drove him insane. He would never leave any girl like that, least of all you. And you… You had been the problem from the very first moment he saw you next to Jake. You’d been a thorn in his side for years, and tonight you were testing his limits more than ever. After his half-confession, he stayed silent eyes locked on the road, hands gripping the wheel, breathing slow and controlled. But you couldn’t stop yourself. Your restless, teasing nature betrayed you. You turned toward him with that infuriating smile that made you even more unbearable in his eyes.

“So, you imagined shutting me up with your tongue… or with something else?” You didn’t even get to finish the sentence before Jay shot you an icy glare and clamped a hand over your mouth to silence you. His palm was hot, firm, covering your lips perfectly. “Don’t push me, Barbie. Conversation’s over.” He pulled his hand away slowly, and you stayed quiet for a beat. Jay thought the look he’d given you had finally shut you up. But then, with a faux-innocent sweetness that was anything but innocent, you whispered: “But you didn’t answer… so, is it the tongue? Or something else?” Jay’s jaw tightened so hard you could almost hear it crack. Without a word, he slammed his foot on the accelerator. The car roared, leaping from 60 to 130 in seconds, and you screamed, clutching your seatbelt as your eyes went wide at his lack of patience. “Are you insane?! Slow down, Jay!” you yelled as the Lamborghini tore through the streets of New York.

“I’ll slow down if you shut that mouth of yours. Choice is yours, Barbie,” he warned, his voice sharp enough to make you bite your lip and nod. One look was all it took to know he meant it this time.

The rest of the drive was thick with tension. You watched him from the corner of your eye, fascinated by how hard he seemed to be holding himself back, while he pretended to ignore you—yet couldn’t quite suppress the weight of having you so close. When you finally pulled up in front of the apartment building, he cut the engine. You smiled at him.

“Thanks for the ride… Jay.” You half expected him to get out, maybe walk you in to make sure you got inside safely. But instead, he stayed seated, his gaze hard and fixed straight ahead.

“Don’t mention it. And don’t make a habit of it, Barbie. I’ve got work.”

You blinked at him, incredulous. You hadn’t even asked for this ride your dear brother had. “At this hour? One in the morning and you’re off to work? What are you, part of some secret agency?” you teased, laughing under your breath.

His lips curved into a faint smirk. “Not your business, Barbie and remember sun eats the hours.”

You stepped out of the car, confused, shaking your head. You gave him one last look as the scissor door lowered and the Lamborghini roared to life. He stayed parked, watching until you disappeared safely into the lobby. Only then did he peel away, swallowed by the night and the city that never slept and you were left standing there with a single question gnawing at you more than all the rest:

Where the hell did Jay Park go at one in the night?

That Tuesday night, you lay sprawled on your bed, staring at the ceiling like it might have an answer for what to do with yourself. The exam the day before had gone well, but the boredom was eating you alive. You texted Stella, hoping to drag her out, but she was already getting ready for yet another sappy date with your brother. You pulled a dramatic pout. Of course, you were happy for them you’d shipped those two for years, and now they were finally together but at the same time, their constant lovey-dovey displays grated on your nerves. Maybe because you had never been in love.

Sure, you had been in love with the handbags in your closet, the limited-edition heels, the sparkling accessories you collected. But with a person? Never. And secretly, you hoped that one day it would happen, that someone would make you feel special enough to give yourself completely.

You’d tried texting Sunoo and Jungwon, but they were still stuck at campus in one of their boring lectures. So you got up and peeked outside the landing. Two cars caught your eye instantly: Jay’s Lamborghini and Sunghoon’s BMW. A mischievous smile crept onto your lips before you even realized it.

You got dressed—or rather, you didn’t. You padded out into the hall still in your loose black oversized shirt, long enough to skim your thighs, with just your pink Skims culottes underneath and let’s be honest they looked very good on you. You bit your finger with a devilish little grin.

“I wonder what Jay would think if he saw me like this… maybe he’d scoff, call me the same frivolous Barbie as always… or maybe his eyes would drop and that’s when I’d win.”

You giggled at the thought and rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, Sunghoon opened up, smiling that shy smile of his. He was Jay’s opposite in every way: porcelain skin, thick brows, deep dark eyes with tiny moles scattered across his face, a skater’s body, and sculpted arms that made half the female population swoon whenever he wore tank tops on campus. To you, though, he had always been nothing more than a good friend.

“What brings little Sim to our humble abode?” he teased, leaning on the doorframe, letting you pass under his arm. His bicep flexed as he rested against the door, and you rolled your eyes. Those arms looked bigger every time you saw him in a tank. Inside, your gaze wandered across the apartment almost immediately, searching for traces of Jay without even bothering to hide it from one of his closest friends.

“I was bored… Stella’s out with Jake, and I was about to die of loneliness,” you said with a theatrical pout.

Sunghoon dropped onto the couch, stretching out with a nod.

“Since Jake got a girlfriend, he’s turned into an even bigger love-obsessed puppy… not like he wasn’t already orbiting around your best friend 24/7.”

You burst out laughing. Hearing the so-called Ice Prince complain about someone else’s romantic antics was hilarious, especially since you’d never seen him so much as glance at a girl. You secretly couldn’t wait for the day he’d fall head over heels, just to see him squirm but Sunghoon didn’t miss the way your eyes kept scanning the room. He raised a brow, smirking.

“I know for a fact you didn’t come here just because you were bored… and definitely not to see me, Y/n. Don’t worry, I’m not offended,” he chuckled.

You feigned indifference, shrugging. “Have you by any chance seen...” You didn’t even finish your sentence before the bathroom door opened and time seemed to freeze.

Jay stepped out wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants, hanging low on his hips, clinging to the muscles of his legs. The waistband dipped just enough to reveal the edge of black boxers. His dark hair was still damp from the shower, falling messily across his forehead but what made your throat tighten wasn’t his face..it was his chest.

Golden skin, droplets of water trailing lazily down over hard pecs, along the sculpted lines of his abs, disappearing beneath the elastic of his sweats. The perfect V-line cut into his hips. And then you noticed them—bruises. Purplish blotches, brown shadows, and little scratches were scattered across his torso. They weren’t the kind you got from a pickup basketball game against Heeseung. These looked like strikes, blows, fights. Your breath hitched and of course, your mind betrayed you.

God… pants that low should be illegal for your sanity. And those drops… sliding down his body like that? Those bruises ifthey’re from a fight, they make him even more dangerous and if they’re from… oh hell no, don’t even think about it. Jay, hands on someone else… because you would’ve wanted to be that girl.

You bit your lip, staring openly, shamelessly. Your gaze dragged from his chest to his face, back down to his hips. Jay clenched his jaw—your audacity, your lack of shame, drove him insane. Part of him thrived on it, loved that you couldn’t hide how you looked at him. But another part couldn’t stand being under that kind of spotlight. From the couch, Sunghoon chuckled, the whole thing looking to him like a Netflix drama unfolding in real time.

“So that’s the real reason you came…” he teased, eyes flicking from you to his best friend.

You spun toward him, cheeks flushed, glaring but your attention snapped back instantly to Jay. He’d stopped in the doorway, towel slung carelessly over his shoulder, dark eyes locked on you.

“What are you doing here, Barbie?” he asked, irritation sharp in his tone at finding you in his space.

You leaned casually against the kitchen wall, swinging one leg playfully, flashing that sly little smile you knew got under his skin.

“I was bored at home… Sunoo and Jungwon are still stuck at campus, Heeseung’s in the studio, and Niki’s probably sketching all night. Then I saw your cars downstairs,” you gestured toward the lot with a little flick of your hand. “So surprise! I thought I’d drop by and visit my brother’s best friends. No harm in that, right?”

Your grin was all trouble. From the couch, Sunghoon dragged a hand down his face, already bracing for disaster. Whenever you and Jay shared a room, sparks flew, and not the safe kind. Still, his eyes betrayed him. They dipped over your legs, slender, toned, tanned and for a split second, he prayed you were at least wearing shorts under that oversized shirt. If not… Jay would murder him just for looking.

Because, hell, he was 22. A guy notices a pair of gorgeous legs every guy would and of course, when he glanced back up, Jay’s glare was already waiting, deadly, possessive. Sunghoon barely smothered a laugh, fully aware he’d just risked his life… and yet, just like you, he secretly enjoyed provoking Jay.

Heeseung and Sunghoon were the only ones who knew about Jay’s little or maybe not so little obsession with you, the one he’d been carrying for years and you, oblivious (or maybe not), simply crossed your arms beneath your chest and stepped closer to him. Even with the ten centimeters of height difference, you felt it like both a challenge and a strange kind of safety. You loved taller guysespecially this one, the boy standing in front of you with his clenched jaw and piercing presence that made something in your stomach flutter.

Was this what people meant by butterflies? You’d thought you’d felt them back in high school, when that older guy had kissed you, but… no. That was nothing compared to what Jay made you feel now.

“Right… you come here because you’re bored, dressed like that?” Jay muttered, brushing past you toward his room. “Or maybe you came to get someone’s attention in particular?”

You bit your lip, amused, tilting your chin up in that provoking way he hated.

“I didn’t come here to get anyone’s attention. Because if I wanted someone’s attention…” You snapped your fingers dramatically. “…I’d have it. Just like that.”

You flashed a tiny smirk. Jay closed his eyes for a second, taking in a deep breath, his jaw tight enough to crack. You were infuriating, childish, and shameless. But what really set his blood boiling wasn’t your words it was Sunghoon, still laughing under his breath.

Worse: he caught Sunghoon’s eyes flick down to your bare legs again. In a heartbeat, Jay’s glare snapped to him, sharp and deadly. Sunghoon immediately threw up his hands in surrender, still amused. Jay knew his friend wasn’t actually interested in you, Sunghoon wouldn’t last ten minutes tangled up in your claws anyway. But the possessiveness burning through Jay was a minefield. He hated showing it, hated letting anyone see. Yet deep down… he liked it. He liked that people knew you were his even if you didn’t know it yet.

Jay’s gaze dragged back to you, tracing from your legs up to the oversized black shirt draping over your body. He hated it not because it hid you, but because it didn’t hide enough. The hem ended too high, leaving too much of your thighs exposed.

“What a shame… seems like there’s at least one person here who isn’t giving you the attention you want, Barbie.” His words were sharp, cutting, as he walked past again toward his room.

And then, without looking back, his voice dropped low and commanding:

“Go put something on.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. It wasn’t even a request. It was an order.

And suddenly you realized that’s what drove him crazy. The thought of you, standing here, in his space, in practically nothing. The thought of someone else’s eyes on you besides his.

“I don’t take orders from anyone,” you said, using that bratty tone you knew perfectly well how to wield and that he hated hearing. You stepped closer, closing the gap between you.

“And besides, I want to be comfortable too. Like you… shirtless.” You gestured to his golden, droplet-speckled chest, Jay shook his head slightly, thinking about putting you in your place, but he had to behave in front of Sunghoon; otherwise, that idiot would run straight to Jake and spill the thousandth scene you and Jay had enacted.

“I’m shirtless because this is my house, Barbie. And in my house, I do what I want,” he said matter-of-factly.

You advanced another step until you were just inches from him. You could feel the heat of his body, the scent of soap lingering on him. You tilted your chin, smirking defiantly.

“This is my house too,” you countered. “So I can do what I want. If I feel like walking in here in just a sports bra and panties to visit one of my brother’s friends…” You bit your lip, teasing. “…I can do it. And by the way, spoiler: nobody’s ever complained about how I dress.”

Jay’s jaw tightened. He wanted to say how many times he’d cursed you for the way you dressed or rather, didn’t dress to visit other people. He looked you over from head to toe before replying:

“Judging by the address… and the mailbox… your apartment is downstairs. This floor? It’s mine, Sunghoon’s, and your brother’s.” He tilted his head, a sharp look in his eyes. “Tell me… Stella, before she was Jake’s girlfriend, came half-naked into our place? Huh, Barbie?”

For a moment, you were speechless, ready to retort but Jay smirked slightly, that satisfied little grin that made your blood boil. He thought he had silenced you. Turning, he strode to his room, leaving you behind but you followed with your eyes, and then, a mischievous grin spreading across your face, you walked down the hall to his door.

Inside, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, drying his hair with a towel. Every movement made his biceps swell, his forearms tense and veiny, his golden skin practically glowing under the salt lamp in the corner. You bit the inside of your cheek, thinking silently that it wasn’t fair that someone could be that beautiful.

“It’s not the same,” you blurted. “She wasn’t the sister of any of Jake’s friends. Of course, it was different for her. I… I’ve grown up here. You’ve seen me grow.”

Your voice was a little too loud for Jay’s liking. He snapped his gaze up at you, eyes scorching.

“I don’t have time for this bullshit,” he said quietly. The words hit you like a punch in the stomach. But before you could respond, his eyes flicked to the door and with the corner of his vision, he saw Sunghoon’s silhouette at the handle. Seconds later, the door clicked shut.

Jay rose to his feet, silently striding to the door and testing the handle but the door was firmly locked from the outside.

“Sunghoon,” Jay’s voice was low, dangerous. From the other side came Sunghoon’s calm, teasing laughter.

“Don’t be an asshole. Open the door and let Y/n out of my damn room.”

“Ah, I just say… you need… cohabitation. Spend the night together, maybe get a little friendlier, more civil. And tomorrow morning, when you’ve made ‘peace,’ I’ll let you out. Good evening, my friends.”

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth with your hand. The thought that Sunghoon the Ice Prince was suddenly on your side was hilarious.

Jay leaned slightly toward the door, teeth clenched, jaw rigid as stone.

“Sunghoon, I swear… if you don’t open this door right now, I’ll make you sleep on the landing for a week and you know I’m not kidding.”

From the hallway came a stifled laugh, and then you heard Sunghoon’s footsteps fading away. Jay turned back to you, eyes closed. Now you were alone.

Instead of feeling intimidated by his gaze, you chuckled softly, tilting your head slightly to the side.

“You know… maybe Sunghoon’s right? Maybe we should spend some time together. You could learn to be a little more… civil with me. After all, we’ve been teasing each other from morning to night for years, and we don’t exactly get along.”

Jay snapped his head toward you, frustration burning in his eyes. He thought of all the times he had to act like your older brother instead of Jake. The night he had to walk you home half-drunk and miserable because you saw a boy you liked kissing someone else. The time he had to pretend to be your boyfriend when you went to the movies with a boy who seemed like a prince to you, but was actually a jerk, and you’d texted him SOS. And the time he had to save you in the treehouse at the beach house.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered. “From the first day I saw you, I knew you’d only bring trouble. And look at you now… I was right. I don’t understand how Stella’s still your friend after all these years. You’re a hurricane of emotions. I’ve never met a girl like you in my life.”

You bit the corner of your lip and then lifted a strand of your soft hair, twirling it between your fingers, pretending not to care about his words.

“Without me, all your nights would have been so boring. Birthdays, holidays, even the games we played as kids… admit it, I’m the spice, the drama, the life of the party. You included, Jay. You would’ve been bored without me, too.”

You smiled faintly. He shook his head, letting out an exasperated sigh. But inside, a few images flashed through his mind: nights when he had seen you laughing with other boys, the cold shiver that ran through him at eighteen, the uncontrollable urge to rip them away from you because he wanted you only for himself. The thought made him shiver something he’d never admit, not even under torture but you had been a drug to him from the very first moment he saw you.

He moved toward the small couch against the wall, the one with his guitars resting on it a black Fender with gold details, a glossy Gibson, and a Martin. He flopped back, interlacing his biceps behind his neck, unintentionally displaying the definition of his muscles and the V-line disappearing under his slightly low sweatpants.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, you wandered among his things as if browsing a luxury boutique, trying to figure out what a person truly liked. You noticed his perfume collection: Tom Ford Noir, Bleu de Chanel, Dior Sauvage, Maison Francis Kurkdjian Baccarat Rouge 540, all perfectly aligned. Then his open wardrobe caught your eye: Saint Laurent jackets, Amiri shirts, Rick Owens pants, Balenciaga Triple S sneakers, and limited edition Jordan 1s. Below the shelves, a neat row of premium liquor bottles: Macallan whisky, Japanese Hibiki, and a single bottle of Louis XIII worth more than half your wardrobe.

You turned toward him with a sly half-smile. Jay didn’t take his eyes off you, watching as if everything you touched instantly became yours. Without asking, you tried on a Saint Laurent jacket, and he thought you looked stunning in his clothes but he shook his head when you spoke.

“Nice room,” you broke the silence with a cheerful tone. “Honestly, I imagined it like this… but it’s extremely dark. My room is the total opposite. The only color flooding this room is that salt lamp it really gives off a nice scent. But you know what it needs? A pink pillow, or maybe a pink Prada shirt from the new collection coming out soon.”

Jay immediately scoffed, rolling his eyes slightly. “Barbie, I already told you...I hate pink.”

You crossed your arms, tilting your head to the side, and replied without hesitation, “Pink and black are a perfect match. They show elegance and sweetness but also darkness and frivolity… kind of like us.” You gave a small smile. Jay closed his eyes at the words “us two” coming from your mouth.

He chuckled and stretched, answering in a slightly cold tone, “There’s no ‘us two,’ Barbie.”

A pout formed on your lips, and you stepped closer to him. “Well… for now, you never know what the future might have in store for us!”

He closed his eyes to ignore you, and you took the opportunity to let your gaze wander over him: the sharp line of his collarbones, his still-tense biceps, the golden chest rising and falling… and then you noticed a purplish mark along his ribs, a thin scratch under his arm, and a fading green bruise near his thigh. You knew he boxed to release anger or adrenaline, but you didn’t realize boxers could get hurt like that, especially with protective gear.

“Did you get hurt boxing?” you asked softly. Jay’s eyes snapped open, jaw tightening.

“That’s none of your business,” he replied, grabbing a vintage ’80s band shirt and pulling it over himself in a quick motion, covering both the bruises and his irritation. He then flopped back onto the couch, one arm behind his head.

“Go to bed, Barbie. It’s past eleven, and you have class at nine tomorrow.” You twirled a strand of hair around your fingers in a coquettish manner and responded,

“Aww, how sweet. You’re even a stalker who knows my schedule by heart… should I be worried, Jay?”

He huffed, and if you knew he secretly monitored your every move from morning till night, you’d understand he knew your classes, where you got that stupid green matcha-mango drink, where you did Pilates, your favorite stores for makeup, skincare, and clothes. Yes, he was slightly a stalker, but in a good way.

You stepped even closer, placing your warm hand lightly on his wrist. You felt his muscles tense under your touch. He opened his eyes, looking at you with irritation.

“And now what?” he asked, eyeing your hand on his wrist.

“This bed is yours,” you said, pointing to his bed. “You should sleep here. I can take the couch.” Jay shook his head. “I know how to behave politely. You sleep on my expensive, comfortable bed. I’ll settle here. I’ve already spent countless nights here studying for exams.”

“Mh… was that a dig?” you teased.

“Take it however you want,” he replied. You didn’t want to give him the victory, so you leaned even closer, almost pleading in a playful tone.

“Come on, Jay… I don’t have the strength to lift you. Your bed is huge. We can even sleep together. I promise I won’t invade your space, and I won’t cling to you like a koala. I’m not obsessed like my brother.”

“No, I’ll stay here, Barbie. No problem,” he said.

Yet when you tried to lift him for fun, his body shifted slightly as if he’d almost given in. Your grip slipped, and you ended up falling onto him, laughing because you never imagined you’d fall onto Jay’s chest. When he heard your cheerful laughter against his chest, his stomach tightened immediately. He felt your small hands resting on his warm chest, and the rapid beating of his heart hit you why was it racing like that?

His eyes locked onto yours, unable to look away. Yours were playful, but his jaw was tense, and his large, strong hands rose to your hips, holding you close but with a surprising gentleness. You caught a small smile on his lips.

You lifted your face closer and said,

“You know… deep down, you’re a lot sweeter than you want me to believe. And maybe… I’m not that annoying to you after all.” Jay froze for a moment, realizing with irritation how delicately your cheeks had flushed while staring at his face so close. And he thought:

Even inside her, there’s pink.

“Don’t talk nonsense, Y/n.” Yet his hands had remained on your hips for minutes now, and he hadn’t pushed you away, even though he could have at any moment… in fact, he kept you there almost as if it were something you did every day. You noticed his breath had quickened, his eyes shifting from your pupils to your lips and back again, as if terrified of giving in. You leaned a little closer, whispering his name with a playful yet sweet tone: “Jay… if you really didn’t like me like you pretend, you would’ve already pushed me away, knowing you. But look where I am.” Your eyes traced your bodies pressed together, your body practically lying on top of his, feeling every tense muscle beneath you. He swallowed hard, his hands tightening on your hips, jaw clenching even more. “You drive me crazy, Barbie,” he murmured, and you let out a small laugh. “That’s my favorite part of the day, you know? Annoying you a little, teasing you until you lose your patience!”

He rolled his eyes in exasperation, but your gaze stayed locked on his face. You noticed the natural pout of his full lips, always seeming ready to snap at you, yet making you want to kiss him even more. In that moment, desire outweighed fear. The fear that he would push you away was huge, and you wondered: if you kissed him, what would he do? Would he raise a hand to his mouth, claiming your kiss disgusted him, or would he lean in and keep kissing you? So you leaned forward slowly, closed your eyes, and without giving him a moment to react, pressed your soft lips against his. Jay seemed completely taken aback when he felt your lips on his. He expected a teasing, fleeting kiss a gesture from an impudent girl meant to provoke him and drive him crazy but you didn’t pull away. You stayed there, your lips barely touching his, in a contact so gentle that it made his eyes widen. He immediately tasted the faint hint of your peppermint lip balm cool, sweet, and fresh, essentially the embodiment of your personality.

Then he tightened his hands on your waist and took control of the moment. With a slow, deliberate movement, he parted his lips slightly against yours. You held your breath for a moment, and when you realized he hadn’t pushed you away or tried to escape, your heart did little flips of joy. You placed one hand on his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat sync with yours, and with the other, stroked his cheek, drawing him closer. Your lips began to move together timidly at first, then with growing boldness as if discovering that this kiss already meant something beyond all the arguments, glares, and bickering of the past years. In short, it was a kiss that balanced the inexperience of two people who had waited too long with the pent-up hunger of those who had restrained themselves. Sweet, yet burning all at once.

“Mmh… Jay…” you moaned softly, and his eyes widened as if that sound had struck him deep in his soul. He didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath as you’d pulled back slightly; he returned to kissing you, this time with a hunger that made you tremble. His tongue brushed yours slowly but with purpose, and you shivered at the sensation of his lips and tongue playing with you. You welcomed it without hesitation, responding with the same intensity, caressing his jaw tenderly and weaving your fingers through his soft, dark hair. A low moan escaped his throat, and you smiled against his lips.

“Christ…” Jay murmured under his breath, but you heard it clearly, and felt his grip on your hips tighten, as if he’d realized he never wanted to let you go. You let out a quiet giggle, still pressing your lips to his, and he cursed himself silently because you were driving him crazy even in the middle of a kiss that was consuming him from the inside.

This second kiss was different from the first. If the first had been a timid, almost sweet exploration, this was pure fire: your lips moved with force, your breath mingled, and his tongue entwined with yours in a rhythm that made your head spin. His large hands slid along your hips as if testing how perfect you were around him, while you held him close with your fingers tangled in his hair, your nails grazing the back of his neck, eliciting another deep moan from him. When you finally pulled apart, both of you with swollen, flushed lips, your gazes were filled with tension, desire, and unspoken questions both wondering, why the hell hadn’t we kissed sooner?

His breathing was ragged, chest rising and falling quickly, and you couldn’t resist teasing him:

“Seriously, you kissed me like that… all for an irritating girl you don’t care about? Pff… you’re in trouble, Jay,” you said with a small smile.

His gaze hardened slightly, and he released his hold on your hips, replying, “We’d better go to bed. Now.”

At that moment, you realized that deep down, Jay didn’t tolerate you because he found you… maybe too interesting for someone like him. You stepped away from his arms to head to bed, a satisfied smile plastered across your face.

It had been exactly one week since that kiss...seven endless days in which Jay had literally vanished into thin air: puff.

No more car parked outside the building, no more coffee shared at the campus café when you happened to run into him, no more sarcastic remarks or bickering, nothing at all. And when you tried with a trivial excuse to greet Jake at the guys’ apartment, it was useless because Jay hadn’t shown up; your eyes wandered countless times to his door, but it always remained closed, as if you didn’t exist.

You were angry. Angry and hurt, even if you would never admit it out loud. If he wanted to act like before, completely ignoring you, well, he didn’t know who he was dealing with, so you decided to try the digital approach. If he didn’t want to face you “in person,” there were social media and messages and it was 2025, after all. So you sent him a message.

From Y/n🩷: You know this isn’t how you behave, right? Are you seriously ghosting me? Come on, Jay, don’t tell me you can’t even handle a kiss!

You hit send, and deep down, you already knew he wouldn’t reply. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the message was rea but that was it. No response, no emoji, a complete digital silence. And it was driving you crazy because Jay wasn’t the type to ignore anyone not with that perfect model-boy image he always projected but with you, he was doing exactly that.

Meanwhile, on the other side of New York, at the specialists’ headquarters, Jay stared at the screen of his phone where your message blinked in the chat. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, capable of typing anything: a short, sharp sentence, a sarcastic remark, a light insult something he always used with you but nothing. In a fit of anger, he threw the phone onto his desk and sighed.

Since that kiss, the memory of your lips on his, the peppermint-scented lip balm, the combination of sweetness and challenge it all kept coming back. Why did everything feel so complicated after just one kiss? He should have pushed you away, maybe even stopped you but instead, he had done the exact opposite: he had kissed you back, and he had enjoyed it too much. Now, every time he saw you… every time he thought of you… he felt that damn urge to kiss you again and it wasn’t okay. The cowardly option, the safest one, was simply to ignore you.

That evening, you finished the last seminar of fashion journalism, and the class had gone on late, 11:45 PM. Everyone had already disappeared, and the campus was practically deserted, lit only by street lamps casting long, lonely shadows on the asphalt. All you could hear was the autumn wind and the distant clatter of the subway rails. You hugged your coat tighter around you, phone in hand, waiting to see Jake’s car pull up but nothing. So you texted him: Where are you?

A few seconds later, he called, out of breath:

“Shit, Y/n, don’t tell me you had class even the day before a holiday.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed lightly. “Welcome to the world of fashion, Jake. They don’t care if it’s Christmas, Easter, or Thanksgiving.”

Jake sighed, glancing around because he was too far away, and answered, “Damn. I’m across the city with Heeseung and Niki in the studio. It’d take me an hour and a half to get to you. I’m really sorry.”

You could hear his sincerity, so you replied, “It’s okay, Jake. I’ll take the subway. It’s not the end of the world.” You heard a murmur in the background, then Heeseung’s voice clearly:

“Ask Jay, he could probably go get her.”

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard that name Jay, the guy who had been ignoring you for weeks just because you had kissed him, and who now seemed to appear in the conversation out of nowhere. Instinctively, you reacted:

“No. No one needs to help me. Don’t worry, I’ll take the subway myself.” Jake ran a hand through his hair, and you could hear the guilt even through the phone.

“At least send me your live location. I want to know where you are.” You sighed and opened the group chat to share your real-time location.

“Okay, but stop being an anxious brother. Don’t worry, I won’t wear headphones, I’ll manage the transfers at busy stations, it’ll be fine,” you said, starting your walk toward the subway station.

Through the speaker, your brother’s voice came again:

“Promise me you’ll call or text me at the slightest problem.”

As soon as you stepped onto the subway, you instinctively tried to stick close to a small group of people, feeling safer with other passengers around: some fiddling with backpacks, some scrolling through their phones, others reading books. But three stops later, the car had almost completely emptied. You glanced around, and at the far end of the carriage, only two men remained looking suspicious: worn jeans, leather jackets, eyes too intrusive to make you feel at ease.

And it wasn’t enough. At the next stop, a small group of slightly older boys got on, reeking of smoke and recently lit weed. You wrinkled your nose, and their loud, obnoxious laughter filled the car. You tensed immediately as you noticed one of them sizing you up, approaching with a sly, insolent grin.

“Hey, little princess, all alone at this hour?” His tone was rough, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You looked away, pretending not to hear him, your phone trembling slightly in your hand as you quickly typed a message to Jake:

Y/n🩷: I’m getting off at the next stop and taking a taxi, or if there are people on the platform, I’ll take the red line.

A few seconds later, your brother replied.

Jakey🐶: What’s going on??

You swallowed, trying to stay calm, and glanced up as you felt one of the boys getting a little too close.

Y/n🩷: A group of guys… they’re trying to get my attention.

You didn’t even have time to hit send before one of them plopped down heavily on the seat next to you, the acrid smell of smoke hitting you like a cloud.

“Hey, beautiful… who’s this Jakey you’re texting?” His grin widened with malice. You answered quickly: “He’s… my boyfriend.”

The boy laughed and leaned slightly closer. “Ah-ah, yeah, right. I don’t buy it for a second.”

You rolled your eyes in exasperation. The train screeched to a halt, the doors sliding open, and you didn’t hesitate: you jumped up and bolted out. Luckily, you saw some people on the other side of the platform, but to reach them, you had to cross that damned tunnel. You cursed yourself for wearing heels cute and perfect for a night out, but awful for running.

You glanced back, and your blood ran cold. The boy who had been harassing you had followed you and was now running toward you. You clutched your phone, keeping your eyes on the ground, and quickened your pace until you collided violently with something, or rather, someone. Your head hit something hard, solid, and warm. You closed your eyes, silently praying it wasn’t another one of the group or a psychopath.

Then, a familiar scent, tinged with something dark, reached your nose. A shiver ran down your spine. You lifted your gaze, your mouth slightly open. Standing in front of you, draped in a long black cloak that hung heavy to the ground, was Batman.

It wasn’t Halloween, it wasn’t Carnival, and it wasn’t a joke.

In the city, there was only one person who patrolled the streets like this, going viral every week on social media for his heroic deeds. People called him Batman—sometimes even “the city’s Spider-Man.” He returned stolen property, stopped acts of vandalism, especially protected women from attacks at night, and uncovered countless illegal sites. You stared, almost hypnotized.

He was at least ten centimeters taller than you, not a gym colossus, but his muscles were sculpted and defined beneath the suit. The mask covered almost the entire face, leaving only the line of his lips exposed. And yes, despite your fear, you found yourself staring at them.

But he didn’t look at you. Not even a glance. Instead, he stepped in front of you, shielding you completely, the cloak spreading slightly to cast a menacing shadow that alone was enough to make your blood run cold.

The boy who had been chasing you stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide and filled with near-terror.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” Batman demanded in a low, gravelly voice. “N-nothing…” the boy in front of him stammered, spinning around and running off. Batman didn’t move, but he pulled a small device from his glove and, with a swift motion, snapped a few photos. You could see the blue glow of the hologram as it sent the data directly to someone someone who was probably the police. So… he really did cooperate with them? Batman slowly turned toward you. His eyes, hidden in the shadow of the mask, seemed to study you carefully. You, on the other hand, felt small and vulnerable under his gaze. Your hands were still trembling, and without a word, he took them in his own. The contact of his leather-gloved hands made you flinch they were cold and rough, yet beneath that material, you felt warmth, strength, and the presence of a good person. “You’re safe now,” he said quietly, and you nodded, lowering your gaze to your shoes, almost unable to hold that presence. It was strange because you hardly ever felt vulnerable, and you never showed it, it was like a weapon for you. “Th-thank you…” You murmured, barely audible. He let out a soft sigh as he looked at you. “It’s my job as a vigilante.”

When you lifted your gaze, his grip on your hands tightened slightly, and without another word, he guided you toward the station exit. His cape flowed behind him like a black wave. You followed his long, decisive steps, mesmerized, staring at his back the sculpted lines under his suit, his long legs moving with natural authority. It was hypnotic. It was absurd that at that moment Jay crossed your mind; that physique, even those eyes… maybe it was the adrenaline and fear playing tricks on you. “Where are we going?” you dared to ask, your voice still shaky from the adrenaline. “I’m taking you home.” He didn’t look at you, but the tone left no room for objections. Before you knew it, you were inside his car and not just any car: a beast of power and luxury, a matte black Lamborghini that looked straight out of a futuristic movie. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized… Jay also drove a Lamborghini, but his was sportier and glossier. You immediately shook your head, trying to push the thought away. Really, Y/n? With a man like Batman next to you, and you’re still thinking about Jay? God, you were seriously obsessed… You turned to look at him as he started the engine, studying his profile. You wanted so badly to pull off the mask and see who hid beneath that authoritative voice but you shook your head and asked instead, “How did you know I was in danger?” He cleared his throat.

“There are cameras in all the tunnels and subway stations in our headquarters. If we see someone in trouble, one of us vigilantes intervenes. I was already in the area tonight,” he said calmly. You nodded, staring at him too intensely—you couldn’t help it. The line of his jaw beneath the mask, his full, firm lips… something about it felt far too familiar. He noticed. A corner of his mouth lifted, almost amused, and he looked at you. “Do you like what you see? Or do you want a photo so it lasts longer?” he said, chuckling not arrogantly. You blushed and pouted slightly, hiding it behind a small smile. “Don’t joke… tomorrow, when I tell my friends, especially my brother they won’t believe me if I don’t have a photo of the famous Batman. You’re everywhere on social media by now. Maybe even more viral than Spider-Man because everyone finds you mysterious and captivating.” A deep laugh rumbled from his throat inside the mask, and Jay cursed himself silently for letting that sound slip. He shouldn’t have, not with you because every time he let you see him a little closer, the risk only grew.

He thought, I just want to take off this damn mask and tell you that nothing will ever happen to you as long as I’m here,clenching his jaw. But if you knew, you’d be in danger, and I could never forgive myself.

“Alright, you can take a photo, but then delete it after you’ve shown it to your friends and your brother.” You looked at him, surprised and a little suspicious.

“Why do you trust me? You’ve just met me.” Batman shrugged, and his answer came calmly: “Intuition.”

The car sped through the night streets of New York, neon lights, street lamps, and signs reflecting off the windshield, creating patterns that seemed to carve his masked profile even more sharply. You, however, couldn’t take your eyes off him. The silence in the car felt unbearable, so your naturally curious nature kicked in, and you began peppering him with questions.

“So… you don’t work for the police, right? You’re independent?” you asked, intrigued by his life.

“I’m a city vigilante,” he replied without hesitation. “I cooperate with the police, but sometimes I have to keep certain criminals as… ‘allies’ to survive, otherwise they’d take me out. Let’s just say I exist in a kind of limbo, which is why I’m one of the most mysterious superheroes around.”

You nodded, knowing there were other heroes, since Spider-Man had left the scene shortly after Batman appeared.

“And who trained you? Because you don’t look… improvised,” you said, gesturing to his physique.

“I taught myself. Mistakes, broken bones, falls… the city teaches you fast if you pay attention. But when I joined the vigilantes’ headquarters, I learned from the veterans how to train differently—both physically and mentally.”

“And you’re never scared? Like… ever?”

He chuckled softly, a low sound that made your stomach vibrate because it was strangely familiar.

“Fear is always there, but if you use it, it becomes a weapon in your favor.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open, realizing that his answers were sincere, not performative or arrogant. Yet the more you observed him, the more a strange feeling stirred inside you: the way he held the wheel, his slightly uneven breathing when you stared too long, that tight jaw that felt oddly familiar… To distract yourself, you changed the topic.

“Okay, but at least tell me… under that mask, are you handsome? Or is it just to look cooler?” you teased, tilting your head with a smirk. Finally, his chest moved in a barely noticeable sigh, like a stifled laugh.

“And what if I’m ugly under this mask?” he said, glancing at you sideways.

“Mh,” you pretended to think, touching your chin, “then at least you’ve got the shoulders and the voice to make people forget your face.”

He shook his head slightly, in such a human and almost sweet gesture. You noticed the car slowing down, and soon realized he had stopped in front of your house.

“Wait… how did you know where I live?” He shrugged, as if knowing your address was the most trivial thing in the world.

“Every person in the database has a profile. I saw where you study and where you live.” You nodded, but something didn’t add up, he knew too much, too many details. Still, you decided not to press, not with the man who had just saved you.

“Thank you… for everything.” You bit your lip and added, “Is there a way… Can I repay you? Anything you want in return?”

He looked at you and shook his head, then added, “There’s nothing I want. It’s my job.” But then he asked you something that made you flinch slightly.

“But you have to promise me one thing.” You nodded eagerly and said, “Anything.”

“Never give up, especially when you meet someone who shuts down, who’s afraid of their own emotions, their own feelings… you have to pull them out.”

You froze for a moment, feeling the words were almost… personal, and a shiver ran down your spine. Why did those words seem to speak directly about Jay?

You leaned slightly toward him with a mischievous smile to break the tension. “You sound like a psychologist under that mask… are you sure you’re not a student by day and a vigilante by night?”

He tensed slightly, as if you’d touched a raw nerve. Without thinking too much, you leaned in and planted a quick kiss on the mask-covered cheek a small, swift gesture that made you blush immediately afterward.

“Stay safe, Batman.” He stayed frozen, like stone, then barely nodded. You got out of the car, and he remained there, fingers gripping the wheel tighter than necessary, thinking:

Damn it, Y/n… stop doing this to me. Soon, I won’t be able to hold back who I really am.

The evening after your “adventure” with Batman, you were bursting with excitement and couldn’t keep it to yourself, so at dinner you told the group every single detail.

“Guys, you won’t believe this… last night Batman saved me,” you said, and there was a moment of silence, only the sound of cutlery. Then Stella burst out laughing.

“Wait, WHAT? Batman? The guy? The one viral on TikTok with the Batcar and that Lamborghini that probably costs as much as an apartment in Manhattan?”

The others exchanged looks, a mix of disbelief and amusement, and Jungwon shook his head with a smile.

“Y/n, maybe you had too much pumpkin spice latte? Maybe it was just a masked guy.”

Heeseung, however, teased you mercilessly.

“So let me get this straight… you were on the subway, being chased by some guys, and coincidentally, the city’s most famous vigilante shows up and even drives you home. Yeah, right, that’s a total Netflix story.”

Only Jake stayed silent, fork paused halfway to his mouth. You looked at him closely and noticed that shadow of surprise, almost a flicker of recognition, which disappeared as soon as he lowered his gaze to his plate.

You didn’t say anything, but it planted a seed in your mind and you noticed that Jay wasn’t there… again.

“But Jay… where does he always go at night?” you asked, trying to sound casual while setting the table. Jungwon cleared his throat and glanced around.

“Ah… Jay studies psychology. Basically, he’s one of the few nerds in the group, and he’s probably stuck in the library.”

“Mm.” You limited yourself to that sound, unsure whether to believe him. Always at night? Why did he disappear every time something strange happened?

And so, almost without noticing, another whole week passed without him leaving any trace. No messages, no sarcastic jokes, no silent eyes following you, Jay was ghosting you, and for someone who could have anyone, you hated that attitude.

October 31st arrived with a rush, and you were over the moon because you loved autumn: the copper and orange leaves fell onto the wet sidewalks, the air smelled of rain and cinnamon, the cafés were full of carved pumpkins and steaming pumpkin spice lattes, and Halloween, your favorite holiday, was finally here. You and Stella were in front of your bedroom mirror, laughing like crazy as you adjusted the final details of your costumes for the upcoming party. Stella, as a vampire pirate, was a spectacle: a frayed mini skirt, a red corset that highlighted her curves, an eye patch, and makeup that made her look seductive and deadly at the same time. You’d even added two fake bite marks on her neck and smudged her lipstick a bit to make her even sexier and wilder. You, on the other hand, had gone for something decidedly bolder: a “killer bunny” outfit. A tight black skirt with small sparkles that caught the light when you moved, highlighting your hips, with a fake knife patch sewn on the side. Your pink glittery tank top accentuated your chest, making you both adorable and provocative. Finally, the bunny ears, pink glittery lip gloss, and a light blush on your cheeks completed the look, giving you that “baby doll” vibe that made heads turn.

Stella looked at you, mouth open, and said, “You’re illegal. I swear, Y/n, someone will have to kill all your suitors if they want you all to themselves.” You giggled, rolling your eyes. “Maybe… hopefully someone is interested at the party.” She winked at you while straightening her hair with the flat iron. “Eric will be there, you know he can’t wait to see you in costume.” You pouted instinctively because Eric was the classic popular, charming guy who always flirted with you—but you weren’t interested… at least not like you were with Jay. In your mind, every time you imagined someone else, the only silhouette that came to your mind was always Jay’s. And it shouldn’t be that way, especially now that he had ignored you for days. Tonight, you just wanted to have fun: dance, laugh, let loose, and maybe forget for a few hours that grumpy, arrogant guy who was driving you crazy.

The student house was in Williamsburg, one of Brooklyn’s liveliest neighborhoods, full of young people, bars, and nightlife. From a distance, the building stood out with its orange and purple-lit windows. Outside, dozens of carved pumpkins smiled eerily, fabric ghosts hung from trees, and fake cobwebs covered the fence.

As soon as you opened the door, the bass of the music hit you. Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado was playing, and the living room was packed with masked students dancing and drinking from cauldrons filled with punch. The lights were dim, veiled by orange and purple lamps; in every corner, candy lay in plastic pumpkins, and gothic decorations added to the vibe. Stella shouted over the music, grabbing your hand, “Jake and the others are in the back.”

You followed your friend, heels clicking on the wooden floor, and hugged your leather jacket tighter around your exposed skin. When you stepped out onto the back porch, you found everyone gathered around the drink table. Heeseung was behind a makeshift DJ booth already mixing tracks, and everyone had a costume:

Sunghoon is an elegant vampire, looking perfectly in character.

Niki, over-the-top and a little creepy, as the Joker with a torn smile.

Jake is hidden behind a Ghostface mask.

Sunoo is a terrifying killer clown.

Jungwon is a psychotic ghost with fake chains.

Heeseung is a murderous priest, complete with a bloody cross.

But your eyes immediately landed on Jay, leaning on the railing with a red cup in hand, laughing at something Niki had said.

His “costume”? Not exactly a costume, but… an unmistakable reference. A black mask covering half his face in a Batman style no cape, wearing a black designer shirt unbuttoned just enough to show the top of his golden chest, dark jeans, and a red mark on his neck like a fake scratch. You burst out laughing, shaking your head.

“Come on, Jay! Batman? Seriously? You could’ve chosen a better disguise… you’ll never be the real Batman!” you said, grabbing a drink.

He slowly turned to you, his gaze scanning the pink of your outfit, then back to your eyes, and finally rolling his eyes with a half-smile full of disdain.

“And you, what exactly are you dressed as, Y/n? I thought at least on Halloween you’d ditch the pink… but I was wrong.”

You took a sip of punch, determined not to lower your gaze.

“Killer sexy bunny. I took inspiration from Mean Girls.”

He nearly choked on his drink, laughing as he observed how the grey-and-pink ears gave you a baby doll look, how the skirt was far too short for his taste, and how the heels made you slightly taller.

“Killer bunny? Give me a break… I thought I’d see you as Barbie. Actually, you’re always dressed like this, so it wouldn’t even be a costume.”

You stopped dead at his words, cheeks burning with irritation.

“Oh, look who’s talking. At least I have imagination. You’re just a cheap copy of Batman. Actually, no! The real Batman was insanely hot, sweet, cute… definitely not like you.”

You realized you were teasing him on purpose, and Jay, with his annoyingly calm demeanor, tilted his head slightly as if studying your words.

“Oh yeah?” he replied, a smirk in his eyes. “So you admit you found him hot.”

“Of course I did!” you said without thinking. He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear.

“Prove it. What did you like so much about Batman?”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. In reality, you had seen very little of Batman: dark eyes, black hair peeking from the mask, and a glimpse of lips he immediately hid. You thought half of New York’s male population could have the same features.

Jay knew it, reading it in your eyes and you hated him for it. He leaned sideways, warm breath close to your ear.

“Have a good evening, Barbie.”

He winked at you, stepped back, and walked away with Jungwon and Niki, leaving you alone. You watched him leave, silently cursing him.

You hated Jay with all your heart. He was insufferable, arrogant, with that laugh that annoyed you more than anything else, and yet, as you watched him across the porch, chuckling with Niki and two girls dressed as sexy witches, an almost uncontrollable urge bubbled inside you to go over and say, “Girls, forget it, you’re just wasting your time with that idiot.” But you didn’t. You turned away and decided to ignore him.

The party was actually amazing: the music was pumping, people were dancing in the living room, others were laughing around the tables with drinks, and you had danced and joked with Stella almost the entire evening. You had even stopped at the photo booth decorated with witch hats and horror-themed frames, letting yourselves strike ridiculous poses and laugh endlessly. Yet your nerves remained tense because of Jay. “I’m going to get another mojito,” you said as you got up from the couch. “Okay, but come back right away!” Stella shouted from Jake’s lap, who was holding her tight. Jake looked up at you seriously. “Five minutes, Y/n. These parties are full of weird people and drugs. I don’t want anyone getting you into trouble.” You rolled your eyes, knowing he was only trying to protect you. “Okay, Dad,” you said, and made your way through the crowded hallway until you reached the drinks table.

There were pots filled with colorful punches: fluorescent green, blood red, and a lighter fruity one. You poured yourself the least alcoholic one and took a sip. But as soon as you turned, you bumped into a hard chest. You looked up sharply and met the determined, sparkling gaze of Eric, who was dressed as Tōshirō Hitsugaya, a manga character: silver hair, black uniform with a white kimono over it, looking down at you with a decidedly sexy smile. “Wow,” he said in a low voice. “You’re beautiful… no, sexy.” A playful giggle escaped your lips, and you thanked him. “You’re not bad yourself, and your costume is really cool.” Eric raised an eyebrow, pleased with himself, and gestured to himself: “Just the costume? Or am I not bad either?” Your eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement, and you pointed him up and down. “The whole package.” His smile widened, and he extended his hand. “Dance with me?” You bit your lip slightly, glanced around, then nodded.

Eric took your hand and guided you to the center of the living room, where the purple and orange lights flashed to the beat of the music. The crowd around you was warm and energetic, and you began to move to the rhythm. At first, you were a little stiff, swaying your hips slightly, but Eric leaned close to your ear. “Where’s the Y/n I know? The one who always has fun at parties?” “She’s still here,” you replied with a cheeky smile. He stepped closer, his hand naturally sliding near your waist, guiding your movements closer to him. With a smooth gesture, he placed your arm over his shoulder, and now you were dancing more intimately: your hips against his, bodies moving perfectly in sync with the music. His gaze burned into you, and you bit your lip while thinking of an excuse to leave because you didn’t want to dance at all. “So tell me… is there someone occupying that little head of yours?” You choked on your saliva, wondering if it was really that obvious that you thought about Jay too often. You froze, unsure what to say, but Eric didn’t wait. His lips lowered slowly toward the curve of your neck, brushing your skin with a heat that made you catch your breath. Yet he never kissed you because a hand grabbed your arm firmly enough to pull you aside, and your body bumped slightly against a familiar chest. When you turned, you found Jay, his face partially covered by the black mask, staring coldly first at you and then at Eric. His eyes burned with restrained anger as they fixed on Eric, who raised his eyebrows, surprised but not intimidated.

“What the hell is going through your mind, Y/n?” he growled at you. You tried to respond, but Eric intervened in a teasing tone:

“We were just having fun, you know—an innocent dance, that’s all.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, almost disdainfully, and said, “She doesn’t have fun with anyone… especially not with you.”

The words made you angry, and you shot back, “Wait, what? Jay, I was just dancing! And anyway, why do you care who I have fun with?”

Jay’s jaw tightened as he glared at you. “I care too much, and that’s the problem.” His voice was sharp, and without another word, he started walking, dragging you along with your wrist still held tightly in his hand.

“Hey!” you protested, trying to free yourself. “Where the hell do you think you’re taking me? I want to stay at the party!”

“To hell with the party,” he snapped without turning around. “And to hell with all those guys who were staring at you like you were fresh meat.”

Your cheeks flushed red, and a nervous laugh escaped your lips. “Oh my God… you’re jealous?”

He paused for a moment, turning toward you with a dangerous half-smile.

“Jealous? Don’t get ahead of yourself, Barbie. You’re too… predictable to make me jealous.”

That condescending tone made you grit your teeth, but you didn’t stop following him until you reached the parking lot. His black Lamborghini gleamed under the streetlights. With a decisive gesture, he opened the door, and instinctively, you thought you’d get in on the passenger side—but no. Jay climbed into the driver’s seat… still holding your wrist, and you stared at him, incredulous.

“What does all this mean, Jay?” you asked.

He lowered his gaze, lips twisting into a sarcastic smile.

“It means you’ve been good, Y/n. You had my attention from the very first second you walked in with that ridiculous little skirt, that pink tank top showing too much, and… those stupid bunny ears.”

You shot him a glare.

“I don’t care about your attention,” you said, trying to pull away, but he pulled you closer.

“I hate two things in life: liars and people who act like children. Guess what? You’re both.”

“Then let me go. If I disgust you that much, what’s the point of holding me?” you challenged him.

Jay bit his lip as if holding something back, and suddenly, he yanked you toward him. Before you knew it, you were straddling him, your knees pressing against the leather seats, your faces just inches apart.

The scissor door of the Lamborghini closed behind you with a sharp, metallic click, cutting you off from the chaos of the party. You were straddling his lap as Jay slowly lifted his hand to his face and removed the black mask. His dark eyes studied you intently as his fingers raked through his disheveled hair, leaving you breathless. He seemed too real, too handsome, too… the guy who had saved you in the subway. “I’m tired, Y/n,” he said in a husky voice, and you could feel his heart pounding right beneath your hands, which clutched at his shirt. “Tired of pretending I don’t want you, tired of watching you act like a cheeky little girl just to get my attention, and tired of not showing you how much of that attention was already all on you.” His words hit straight in your stomach, and you never imagined they could sound so effortless coming from his lips. You lowered your gaze, thinking this couldn’t be real. “Then why were you so mean? Why didn’t you answer my messages? Why did you disappear… as if you were scared of our kiss? I don’t understand you, Jay, honestly.”

Jay clenched his jaw and then sighed, resting both hands on your hips, gripping them tightly as if he wanted to anchor you to him. “I… I’m not very good at this, Barbie, but when I saw that guy trying to get close to you…” He paused, and you noticed him slightly biting the inside of his cheek. “I realized I wanted to be the only one who could touch you, and I swear I’m sorry for everything—the jokes, the cynicism, the distance. I didn’t mean to… but you drive me crazy.” Your heart raced, and you lifted your face, wrapping your arms around his neck almost without thinking. “If you’re no longer afraid of what you feel for me… kiss me. Make me understand that you really want me, Jay.”

He didn’t wait a second his lips traced along your jawline, leaving tiny shivers wherever they touched. When he reached your neck, he began kissing it softly, leaving faint marks that quickly grew longer and more intense. You felt a sudden, small bite as he nipped your skin, drawing a stifled moan from your lips. “J-Jay…” your breath broke in a whisper as your head tilted back slightly, and he chuckled, pleased to hear you moan his name so quickly. One of his hands slid lower, under your butt, pulling you even closer, your pelvis brushing against his as if trying to merge with him. His other hand traveled slowly up your thigh, and every touch on your bare skin was not a mark, but a reminder that from that moment on, you were his, he would explore and study every part of you to know where you were most sensitive to his touch. “May I?” he asked against your skin, his lips continuing to pepper small kisses and nips, and you nodded, unable to speak.

"Good girl," he grumbled, and his thumb traced lazy circles on the inside of your thigh, he brushing you higher and higher where your panties were, and every time it came closer your skin lit up with electric shivers; when the touch became more intimate over your thin panties, you felt breathless and immobilized. "Jesus, Barbie, are you all wet just for me?" he whispered in your ear. "And I thought you liked playing hard….you're just a naughty little girl with a sharp tongue, but your body has been mine for years…" You bit your lip and a clearer moan slipped from your lips and as his lips came back up your neck, mixing kisses and little hickeys that left marks on you from all over you clung even more to his shirt as if it were the only thing that kept you anchored to reality as his hand drew lazy and provocative circles right over the thin fabric of your panties and your breath became labored as you felt his slightly calloused finger touch your center.

"How long have you dreamed of him touching you like that, Barbie?" You shook your head and clenched your lips so as not to give in to his provocations and did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how long you had wanted him….for too long you have been waking up with your heart beating too much and your body damp and his imaginary hands on you in your dreams that were at some tender and others dirty to the point of making you ashamed. "If you don't tell me the truth, I won't touch you as you deserve." Your gaze slowly rose until it crossed his, and your voice trembled, but the words came out anyway: "For too long…I hope to be kissed, touched… and be yours." A grin cut off her perfect face and for a moment, he was thinking: 'Christ, I'm fucked,' Because that confession destroyed him inside, and it was the same thing that he also felt for you, because he wanted you all along and now that you were there not by obligation but by choice, he knew that he would never leave you again.

His hand moved slow but firm, shifting your panties aside, and a shiver ran through you when the cooler air hit your damp skin and you felt the touch of his slightly calloused fingers on your clit, teasing you with small circular motions that made you moan softly as you clung to him. “Stop… teasing me like that,” you panted, and his smile turned more into a smirk. “As you wish, Barbie.”

And without a second thought he slipped a finger between your swollen, wet folds and slid inside you with disarming ease, and he himself cursed under his breath: “Christ… you’re already dripping for me, so tight and warm…”

The moan escaped your throat as you felt his finger curl inside your gummy walls and you whimpered: “J-Jay… oh God, yes…”

Your body arched over him and your head tilted slightly back, leaving your neck exposed to his voracious kisses, and he watched you, captivated, while his finger moved slowly inside you, curling just enough to seek that spot that stole your breath away.

“Look how beautiful you are on top of me,” he said softly. “You’ve always been so cheeky with me that I should’ve put you in your place from the start, but it was worth it to drive you crazy, because look at you now… you’re on top of me with your legs spread, craving my touch.”

Another moan tore from you and your hand flew into his hair, tugging almost angrily as if that could bring you relief, and he groaned but didn’t stop. “You want me to drive you even crazier, huh?” he murmured with a wicked smirk while moving his finger inside you with a slow, deep rhythm that made you lose your mind. You nodded quickly while biting your lip to stop yourself from screaming, and Jay chuckled low. “Good girl, Barbie, but just nodding isn’t enough… do you want another finger inside you? Do you want to feel how well I can fill you up? Then say it out loud.”

Your breath hitched and in a broken, breathless whisper you confessed: “Yes… please.”

Jay told you to lift your hips a little, and you obeyed his order without even thinking, raising yourself slightly over him, and Jay took advantage of that space to slide your panties slowly down your thighs, freeing you even more. An unexpected reflection in the rearview mirror revealed your image to him: your legs slightly spread over him, your body already trembling just from his touch, and you were a vision only he should remember and see for the rest of his life.

“Christ… look at what you’re making me do, Barbie.” And without hesitation he slipped a second finger inside you, and your body reacted instantly; you felt your hot walls welcome him eagerly, and a cry of pleasure escaped your lips when you felt his fingers buried completely inside you, filling you so well.

“JAY… it feels so fucking good!”

He smirked in satisfaction at seeing you bent to his power, moaning above him docile and wild at the same time and he realized he had you in the palm of his hand. It wasn’t just him who was fucked over you, but you too were lost for him.

He began to push his fingers inside you with a studied rhythm, slow and then suddenly deeper into your wet folds, and you couldn’t stay still because your hips started moving on their own, always seeking more of his touch, finding the perfect rhythm with his thrusts.

Your hands were trembling, one pressed against the window to feel a little of the coolness for relief, while the other got lost in his hair, tugging hard as you whispered into his ear, your voice broken with pleasure: “You’re so handsome… so exciting… but I’m afraid that… someone might see us…”

He grabbed you more firmly, his mouth almost glued to your ear as he growled against you: “No one will ever see you like this, Barbie. Only me. The windows are tinted, and this show will be burned into my mind alone, because you are mine.”

His fingers slid in and out of you mercilessly, and your little moans filled the car, mingling with his slow but heavy breaths—proof of how much he was enjoying watching you like that. Then suddenly, he pushed one of his fingers deeper at a different angle, and a wave of pleasure hit you so hard that you bent forward and screamed, unable to hold back: “Oh my God, Jay!”

A cruel, satisfied smile spread across his face as he asked if that was your magic spot. You tried to answer, to retort as always, but the only sound that came out was a broken moan. “You can’t even talk. Where’s the little know-it-all girl who used to act cocky all the time?”

Your lips trembled as you tried to answer back, but your voice betrayed you. “She’s… still here… but… I’m about to… c-cum…”

His hand moved even more decisively, his palm pressing and teasing your clit with his thumb, brushing it in rhythm while his fingers kept penetrating you. “Oh no, Barbie,” he murmured with a perverse smirk, “you don’t come until I say so.”

His fingers pumped inside you incessantly, each thrust deeper and more insistent than the last, until you completely lost control of your body. Your legs trembled on top of his, and your eyes began to fill with tears from the overstimulation. A small sob escaped your lips as you begged him: “Please, Jay… let me cum… please…”

When Jay heard that sob, he lifted his gaze to you. His eyes met your teary ones, and a satisfied grin curved his lips as he watched a tear slide down your cheek. He chuckled. “Look at what I’m doing to you, Barbie… you’re the most beautiful thing that exists: crying, writhing, and begging me for a fucking orgasm… you’re almost pathetic… but from now on, I’ll want to see you like this every single time.”

His thumb pinched your clit harder, and a wave of pleasure exploded inside you, making you cum around his fingers. They slowed but never stopped, still pumping more gently inside you as if he wanted to see you writhe for him even longer.

Your juices ran down his fingers and between his knuckles, and he cursed under his breath. “Christ… you’re a mess. Look how well I made you cum all over my fingers…”

Exhausted, you collapsed against him, resting your body on his chest and hiding your face in the crook of his shoulder, seeking refuge from the shame and the intensity of what had just happened. With a faint voice, you sighed against his skin: “It was so beautiful…”

Your eyes still glistened with the afterglow, your body shivering with leftover tremors, while Jay slowly pulled his fingers out of you, still glistening with your arousal, and looked at you softly. “Lift that pretty face, Barbie.”

You shook your head slightly, embarrassed by what had just happened, but he didn’t need you to repeat it twice. With his free fingers, he took your chin and gently lifted it, forcing you to look at him, and then, with the hand that still carried traces of your excitement, he let his fingers glide around his lips, tasting you right in front of your widened eyes.

“You’re… crazy?” you murmured in disbelief, your lips parted, and you felt your little pussy clench at that raw yet sexy sight. He chuckled and said: “I’m crazy about you, Barbie. Crazy about your body, your moans, everything you are. And from now on, you won’t need to tease me anymore to get my attention!”

You shook your head, heart pounding, and looked him in the eyes with a question that slipped out almost on its own: “Is this… some kind of confession?”

Jay stared at you, leaned closer, and whispered softly: “Call it whatever you want. A confession… a promise… or a curse, because from now on you’re mine, Barbie, and I’ll never let you go.”

Those words melted you, and he slid his arms around your body, hugging you tightly against him. You felt him press a small, surprisingly tender kiss into your hair while you let yourself sink completely into his embrace, whispering with a faint voice: “Don’t run away from me anymore…”

For the first time since you’d known him, his reply wasn’t a joke or a tease. Instead, he whispered, clutching you to him: “That will never happen again, Barbie, I promise you… I won’t run anymore.”

Since Jay had made it clear that he was interested in you, he had become a little more “soft” with you, even though you never managed to stop teasing him. Wednesdays and Thursdays had quickly become your favorite days of the week, because it wasn’t your brother anymore who came to pick you up at the journalism campus—it was Jay. Every time you saw him step out of his black car, walking with that confident stride and his eyes glued only to you, a shiver ran down your spine. And, punctually, he always showed up with something in hand: a snack he made himself like a chocolate muffin or apple slices with cinnamon; a drink, which could range from hot chocolate to your obsession with mango beverages; even a bag of pink fizzy gummy candies once, which he had bought only because they were “pink,” and you loved that color.

“You’re… cute, you know that?” you had said while chewing on your strawberry fizzy candies that tingled slightly on your tongue, and he had raised an eyebrow, chuckling.

“I’m not cute, Barbie. You’re the one who never eats anything and would live off sugar and coffee.”

“But I do live off sugar and coffee!” you shot back, sticking your tongue out at him, and he made a disgusted face at the bright chemical pink, though you noticed the small smile tugging at his lips.

And then, when you were in the car, he could never sit still, his hand was always on your thigh, his fingers sometimes tracing slow circles on your bare skin whenever you wore skirts or dresses. And sometimes you’d even get lost in some parking lot, spending long minutes just kissing: he’d push you against the seat with his deep kisses, and you’d laugh between one kiss and another, telling him that if he kept it up, you’d never get home.

“Maybe that’s my plan, Barbie. Keep you stuck here and never let you get home.” he murmured while sucking lightly on your skin, and you realized that Jay was truly clingy with you, very touchy—and you couldn’t have liked it more.

“Jay… you’re terrible,” you had laughed, clinging to his shirt before he silenced you again with another kiss.

At home, things weren’t much different… when your brother shut himself in his room with Stella, you would slip into Jay’s room as if it were an already established habit, and it was as if your pink energy invaded every corner. Every time you went there, you left something of yours behind: a pink hair clip on his nightstand, your lip gloss, your sparkly pink headphones, even a tiny cactus in a pink pot that you had “accidentally” forgotten.

He always grumbled at you about it:

“Christ, it’s like Barbie marked her territory. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found a glittery unicorn under the bed.” he muttered with a chuckle whenever he came into his room and found something of yours. And yet, beneath that façade of annoyance, you noticed he never moved anything… if anything, you caught him sometimes casting a distracted glance at your hair clip, as if he had gotten used to having you there even when you weren’t.

You spent hours together: studying, watching movies, or simply getting lost in endless conversations while lying on his bed. You talked without filters about a million things, and he only half-listened, throwing you those looks now and then that said everything: You’re insufferable, but I can’t stop wanting you here with me.

Some evenings, though, he disappeared. He told you he had to study for psychology, that night was the best time for it, and you pretended to believe him but part of you always noticed how evasive he was. You didn’t push too much, though: you preferred to focus on the moments you had together. And those moments were full of provocations and bickering buthealthy ones.

He took you shopping between boutiques and chic cafés, and to tease him you tried on pink dresses, cropped sweaters, skirts that made heads turn as people passed by. Jay would watch you with narrowed eyes as you admired yourself in the mirror, pouting in those little ways you knew he loved.

“Are you staring at me?” you asked with a sly smile, adjusting the new Chanel skirt that hugged your figure.

“I’m checking to make sure you don’t cause too much trouble,” he said, observing how the skirt fit you perfectly but also how it was just a little too short.

“What kind of trouble? This kind?” You had tugged the skirt up a bit higher, flashing him your lace panties, and his jaw clenched as he closed the fitting room door, reaching you in just two long strides.

“Barbie… fix that skirt before I decide to rip it off you right here in front of everyone.”

You laughed, gave him a little push, and pulled him into an embrace.

“Mmm, it’s so much fun making you lose your patience, Jay. You really can’t handle a dose of pink, huh?”

Sometimes, your intimacy shifted into the kitchen, where Jay cooked incredibly well and you perched on the marble counter with your legs dangling, rambling about how you and your brother survived only on instant ramen.

“It’s not my fault cooking is overrated.”

“No, Barbie. Talking too much is what’s overrated.”

And he would lean in, cutting you off with an unexpected kiss, his warm mouth silencing you instantly. You smiled against his lips, then wrapped your legs around his hips.

“You have no idea how crazy you make me. You’re sweet, yes… but also stubbornly defiant. And I want you exactly like that, always.”

For days, it was all anyone talked about: Batman everywhere. In the newspapers, on TV, trending on Twitter and TikTok and every time his name came up, a strange sense of pride twisted in your stomach, as if that vigilante belonged to you in some way. Because you had actually met Batman, he had saved you, and since that day, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. And yet… the more you watched his videos, the more he reminded you of Jay; not just his build and that confident posture, but the way he held his broad shoulders, his narrow wrists, and then his voice that low, rough tone he even used with the cops the same one he scolded you with whenever you acted spoiled. One time, you had asked him directly, pointing at one of the bruises on his neck: “And these? Don’t tell me you got them from studying psychology.” He had barely looked up from his books with that infuriating calm: “You know I box. It’s normal to take hits, even scratches, from an opponent. Ask Niki, he trains like me too.” You had pouted, but deep down, you weren’t convinced. So that evening, knowing Jay was in the library studying, you had started digging like a little detective: news articles, forums, Reddit threads. Some said Batman worked with the police, others that he was very young, maybe even a student. And then that rumor about Batgirl… a partner, another vigilante by his side. And your blood boiled, because maybe you were jealous of a girl who might not even exist. The next morning, the first thing you did after waking up was scroll through Instagram and there he was: a viral video of Batman. Your jaw dropped as you saw him catching thieves at Van Cleef & Arpels your favorite brand, as if fate was mocking you.

Two had managed to escape with $400,000, but he had chased the others. And then—the part that froze your blood—the rescuers’ comment: “rushed to the hospital after being slightly stabbed and beaten.” A wave of worry washed over you, and you opened Jay’s chat. You saw he hadn’t been online since 9:15 the night before. You texted him: “Hey, are you okay?”

A moment later, the message was marked as read—but no reply. You called him, heart pounding, but nothing he didn’t answer. That’s when you decided to go to the apartment he shared with the others. Inside, you found Sunghoon sitting with his phone in his hand. He glanced at you and put a finger to his lips as if to shush you. You frowned. “Where’s Jay?” From the hallway, Jake and Heeseung appeared, faces tense as violin strings. “He’s not home. He’s studying,” your brother said, but your eyes had already spotted Jay’s backpack abandoned near the couch. Crossing your arms, you approached it. “Jake, I’ve known you forever. I can tell when you’re lying, so don’t play games with me. His bag is here…so where is he?” Heeseung ran a hand through his hair, visibly torn, and finally, in a barely audible whisper, said: “At his penthouse in Manhattan.”

Your eyes widened. Since when did Jay have a personal apartment? Okay, you knew he was basically the richest of the group, but a penthouse in Manhattan? You had never even known he had another place—another life and suddenly all those mysteries around him became even bigger.

The car sped through Manhattan traffic, silence in the cabin heavier than the noise of the city outside. Heeseung kept his eyes fixed on the road, hands steady on the wheel, until finally his voice cut through the void:

“You know… strangely, you’re not asking questions. Or babbling.”

You looked at him sideways, arms crossed, lower lip caught between your teeth, before answering softly with a sigh:

“I want to ask Jay the questions. And I want him to give me the answers, preferably the truth about his life… actually, about his double life.”

Heeseung gave a half-smile and nodded.

“I’ve never seen him like this with anyone. He’s always been… distant about feelings. With us, he’s more than a friend, almost a brother. But with you… You’re the one who drives him crazy, who makes him lose control and at the same time, you’re the only one who softens him, maybe even makes him real.”

His words stunned you, you hadn’t thought his closest friends would notice such a drastic change in Jay because of you. You stayed silent, though your heart felt warmer.

When you reached the building of Jay’s apartment, the elevator doors opened, and Heeseung entered a code without looking at you. Before letting you go, he said simply:

“I’m not coming up. I saw him earlier, you’ll find him on the couch… or in his room.”

You turned to him, confused, and asked how you were supposed to know which one was his.

With a small smirk, he answered:

“The one with the best view of the city.”

The doors closed, and your heart pounded as the elevator rose. A ding announced your arrival, and the doors opened onto a breathtaking penthouse. Spacious, modern, with massive windows flooding the place with Manhattan’s endless lights. You saw three sofas, a giant TV, an open kitchen… a world Jay had never shown you.

Then, the sound of a muffled groan made your blood run cold. You turned and there he was.

Jay, half-reclined on the sofa, his torso slouched against the cushions. His hand flew to his face when he saw you, as if to hide his expression. You noticed the tight bandages on his right bicep, fresh scratches on his face, and his leg propped up on a pillow.

You froze, then stormed toward him, voice raised:

“Do you want to explain what the hell this apartment is? Why do you read my messages and don’t reply? Why do you’ve got bandages on your arm, your leg like that and the scratches? Huh, Jay? And don’t you dare tell me it’s from boxing, because otherwise I...”

You didn’t finish, because he cursed under his breath and removed his hand from his face.

“God… I’ll kill whoever brought you here.”

Those words hit you like a slap. Not an “I’m okay,” not a “don’t worry.” You realized maybe he didn’t want you in thisworld of his. A lump formed in your throat, and you collapsed onto the other couch, eyes glassy as you stared at him. His jaw was clenched, his hands gripping his face, body tense as if pushing everyone away. Silence fell heavy, broken only by your breaths. Finally, in a timid whisper, you said:

“Jay…”

He lowered his hands, then slowly gestured with his uninjured arm a short movement, as if to say: Come here. Hesitant, you rose and walked nervously toward him, then simply let yourself fall beside him. He opened his arms and pulled you against his chest. His scent was the same comforting as he wrapped you up, and you clung to him like you feared he might vanish at any moment.

“I’m sorry… for shutting you out of my life. For keeping you out of my mess.”

You closed your eyes, burying your face in his neck, murmuring:

“Maybe there’s a reason. Maybe you really don’t want me in your life.”

You felt him tense beneath you, but you continued, your voice trembling with fragility and anger:

“Maybe you’re ashamed of me. Because I’m too loud, too much. I know a lot of people don’t like me. Maybe you don’t either. Maybe you’ve realized… You don’t want me in your life.”

A heavy silence and then Jay cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. For the first time, his eyes didn’t just hold their usual intensity there was pain, anger, and something deeper. Something that left you breathless.

Your words had hit him like a punch to the gut, and he replied:

“Don’t you dare say that again or even think it, Barbie. Fuck...I don’t want to run from you. I’d lock you in my house twenty-four-seven just to keep you close. I push everyone away especially you, because I’m scared. Scared of hurting you if I don’t come home safe after a night out. Scared of seeing you cry… not from pleasure, but from fear you might lose me any moment. And you’ve figured it out...I am this way because I wanted to tell you that night… when you kissed me on the cheek on the way home. I should’ve taken off the mask and told you I… I want to protect you from this shitty world and...”

You didn’t let him finish, you surged forward and crushed your lips to his.

Jay groaned instantly, kissing you back first with gentle restraint, as if afraid to break you. But after a few seconds, his mouth grew hungrier, fiercer. With his good hand, he gripped the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you close, refusing to let go. His tongue found yours, alternating tenderness and hunger. Trembling, you clung to him, arms wrapping tighter, until your body naturally straddled his lap, half sprawled, half seated on his hips. His chest rose beneath you, and every groan that vibrated against your mouth melted you more.

When you finally broke apart, your breaths were ragged, lips swollen and red. In the softest whisper, with a smile, you murmured:

“Thank you, Batman.”

He squinted with a smirk.

“You’re welcome, Barbie. It’s my job to protect you.”

You couldn’t resist leaning down again tilting his jaw slightly with your fingers, baring his neck. That’s when you saw it: a birthmark, shaped like a butterfly, almost a tiny heart. You pressed a kiss to it. Then another. And another.

Jay’s breath caught, but you didn’t stop, you kept leaving wet kisses and nips, the sounds echoing in the penthouse. Your lips sucked greedily at his honey-toned skin, marking him with bruises only you could recognize. With playful bites from your canines, you teased him, and his reaction came fast.

Jay’s hands clamped down on your hips, holding you tight as you continued claiming him with your mouth.

“Holy shit…” he cursed through gritted teeth. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

You chuckled softly, letting your warm breath brush his neck.

“Tonight, I’ve got you in the palm of my hand, Jay.”

You felt his body tense, his grip on your hips tightening, as if to reclaim the control you were stealing from him. His gaze locked onto yours, and in that instant, you knew, you had really driven him mad. Your hands slid slowly beneath Jay’s black hoodie, and at once his body stiffened. He held his breath, as if he didn’t want you to realize how much you were breaking down his control. But he failed: a clear shiver ran across his warm skin, little tremors rippling down his back. A playful, wicked smile curved your lips.

“What are you planning, Barbie?” he asked, voice low and rough, his eyes flicking down at you. You shrugged, feigning innocence, then carefully slipped the hoodie off his shoulders. The garment slid down, revealing that amber-toned chest, sculpted with abs yet marked by bruises and scratches, remnants of his nights as a vigilante. Your breath caught. He was stunning, but the sight of his wounds squeezed your heart. You leaned down, your hair falling over part of his chest, and began brushing your lips over every mark. Gentle kisses, like caresses. At first, the contact made him tense, but then he relaxed. Each time your lips touched a bruise, Jay let out a soft groan, his hand gripping the couch tighter. “Fuck… I don’t deserve you,” he muttered, voice low, as though confessing something that burned his throat to admit. You paused, lifting your gaze to him. “Maybe you’re right,” you said with disarming honesty. “But that won’t stop me from taking care of you even if it’s just with my kisses.”

He dropped his eyes, biting his lip, and nodded. When your tongue lightly grazed a small cut on his side, he let out a louder moan then chuckled softly, almost embarrassed. “You’re tickling me.” You looked up with mock offense, biting your lip. “Strange… when I kissed and licked your birthmark, it didn’t seem like you were ticklish.” Without waiting for a reply, you lowered your lips to his neck, right above the butterfly-shaped mark. You tormented it with kisses, gentle bites, and slow licks that made him grit his teeth and throw his head back. “You’re unbearable…” he groaned, his hands flying to your hips, gripping as though he wanted to chain you there. Your mischievous smile widened, and you whispered into his ear: “You know… You have a birthmark, but I have two moles shaped like hearts.” Jay caught your face with his hand, forcing your eyes to meet his. His gaze burned. “Why have I never seen them?” You giggled, teasingly pinching his chest. “You’ve definitely seen one. But you didn’t notice it’s always hidden under my bra strap, here…” You lowered yourself slightly, pointing to the area high between your collarbone and chest. Jay stared at the spot with obsessive focus, as if etching it into memory, then lifted his eyes back to you. “And the other one? Where is it?” You pouted, shaking your head. “That one you’ve never seen… It’s in a more intimate place.” Jay’s brows shot up, his mouth parting in disbelief. “You’re kidding.” “No.” You shook your head firmly.

Slowly, you took his hand, guiding it downward until his fingers brushed the edge of the lingerie beneath your oversized hoodie. You lifted the fabric just enough to reveal the dark lace of your panties. Then, with a slow, charged movement, you placed his fingertip right on the precise spot near the elastic. “Here,” you whispered, biting your lip. “The other heart.” Jay’s breath hitched, breaking in his throat. You felt his fingers tremble against your skin, his gaze burning as he fought between desire and fear of losing control. “Shit, Barbie…” he murmured, voice low and ragged. “You’re killing me.” He stared at you wide-eyed, lips slightly parted, as though he couldn’t believe your words. Running a hand through his soft hair, a low growl escaped his throat. “That little mole… only I get to see it. No one else.” You shrugged, biting the inside of your cheek. “Well… you’ll see it when you’ve earned it.” His jaw tightened, but a spark of amusement flickered in his eyes. “The problem is… deep down, I’ve already earned it. And you know it.” He said it in that tone he always used to hide how much he actually cared about you.

You bit your lip, that arrogant but true answer pulling a smile from you. Tilting your head, more curious, you asked: “Tell me the truth, Jay… why do you do it? Why are you Batman?” Jay sighed softly, his eyes drifting from you as though peeling off that armor was too hard. “Because I’m not like Spiderman, born with alien powers. I don’t have anything special… except a sharp mind and the determination I’ve carried since I was a kid. I trained myself, body and mind, to fight crime. That’s why I study psychology too, I know fears, traumas, the darkest thoughts… and I know how to use them. And thanks to a friend inside the police, I learned tech too. Technology is as much my weapon as my fists.” You listened seriously, but a small smile betrayed you. You couldn’t hold back you burst into a soft laugh, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes. “A certain vigilante told me you shouldn’t push people away for no reason. That you have to fight for someone when they shut down. And I trust what he told me.” Jay froze for a moment, his eyes searching yours. Slowly, a tender smile curved his lips. “That person… must be a lot wiser than he seems.” You smiled back as silence fell softly in the room. Inside, Jay felt wrecked. “Christ, this girl… she’s stripped me bare more than any mask, more than any wound. It’s not just attraction; it’s that I can’t imagine a single day without her chaos, without her voice, without her teasing. I love her. I fucking love her. And that terrifies me.”

The emotions boiling inside him left him speechless, but instead, he lowered his head and pressed the sweetest kiss to your forehead—as if to brand you, yet also to promise you’d be safe with him. With your lashes lowered and a faint smile on your lips, you thought maybe, from that moment on, Jay would finally learn to open up to you more.

Lately, Jay had opened up to you more than you could have ever imagined, and you were happy to see him slowly stop running from his emotions, finally putting you first in his not-so-ordinary life.

The first time you showed up hand in hand at a university party, your brother’s group reacted exactly as you expected.

Jake’s eyes widened, and he muttered, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Ni-ki literally stood there with his mouth hanging open, staring at you as if he had just witnessed a miracle.

Heeseung and Sunghoon, however, exchanged a knowing glance and smiled, since they were the only ones who already knew that their “brother” had been hopelessly in love with you for years.

“Finally…” Heeseung sighed.

“It was about time these two got together and stopped fighting over nothing,” Sunghoon added, shaking his head.

Your brother wasn’t angry, though. He just wanted a private word with Jay, and the conversation was brief but crystal clear:

“I’ll tell you one thing, Jay. If you hurt her… I’ll make you pay, no matter how long we’ve known each other.”

Jay didn’t flinch; he held his gaze steady, serious as ever:

“Don’t worry. I don’t intend to lose her, not even by accident.”

Stella, on the other hand, hugged you tight when she found out.

“I knew it. It was the most obvious thing in the world that Jay would fall into your clutches.”

You laughed, hugging her back, but admitted that it wasn’t just him who had fallen, you had too. She looked at you with the tender eyes of a best friend before quietly asking:

“Do you love him?”

You tried to dodge the question with jokes and laughter, but eventually sighed and confessed:

“Yes. I love him. And maybe I’ve loved him for a long time. I love teasing him, I love having his attention even if it’s just for a second of my day, just watching him… And now that we’re together, I realize we’re both lost. Sooner or later, one of us will say those words… I love you.”

Meanwhile, Jay had officially moved into his Manhattan apartment, and without even realizing it, you had started invading and coloring it with your personality. In his dark, minimalistic kingdom, pink hair ties, Dior lip balms, glittery makeup palettes, and even a pink orchid on the table appeared. In his enormous shower, beside his expensive black and gray products, your Sakura-scented shower gels gleamed. Every time he noticed, Jay would chuckle softly, shaking his head, but never failed to grumble:

“You’re turning my apartment into a Barbie’s house, damn it.” Yet he never touched a thing. He never moved them in fact, he left them there, as though to remind himself that you had finally become a real part of his world and his life. One time, while you were cuddled together on the bed watching Formula 1, you pressed closer to him, inhaling his scent until you caught him off guard. “Wait a second… you don’t smell like your usual body wash. This is Sakura. Did you use my Rituals shower gel?” you asked, climbing up a little, sniffing at his skin to confirm. You saw him blush faintly and look away before admitting: “I wanted to understand why you’re so obsessed with that scent. So yes, I used it.” You burst out laughing, smacking his chest. “Look at you, the great Batman, stealing my pink shower gel. Let’s just say that since you’ve been with me, you’re no longer a dark vigilante… I’m turning you into my Ken.” “Cut it out,” he grumbled, pulling you closer, but the tiny smile tugging at his lips betrayed how much he was actually enjoying it.

And then there was that night on a mission, adrenaline pumping, when he reached into the pocket of his jacket for the small knife he always kept hidden there. But instead of weapons, his fingers brushed against something else: a tiny pink heart-shaped embroidery. The moment he saw it, a smile spread across his lips despite everything. Only one person in the world could have stitched a piece of herself into his Batman suit you, with your obsession with pink and your passion for sewing.

When the mission ended, he sent you a photo, and immediately got your reply:

“It’s your new lucky charm!”

Jay chuckled at the message, biting his lip as a thought hit him:

“Christ… It’s done. This girl has completely wrecked me in just a few months. She’s not only in my pockets—she’s everywhere. In my bed, in my shower, in my head, even in my missions. There’s not a corner of my life without her. And I… I’m seriously fucked.”

That evening, you were in Stella’s room, surrounded by nail polishes in every possible shade of pink, a couple of magazines left half-read, Chinese takeout cartons scattered across the bed, and a soft playlist filling the space with your laughter. You were deeply focused on your pedicure while Stella tapped away on her laptop, scrolling through Twitter, until suddenly, without lifting her eyes from the screen, she asked:

“Hey… but besides Jay, a.k.a. Batman, have you ever met his… gang? You know, I met Jake’s teammates and they’re honestly all amazing at their headquarters. And, guess what? There are even girls working with them some of them are heroines too.”

You lifted your eyes from the endless row of nail polish bottles, wrinkled your nose, and shook your head.

“No. When Jay’s with me, he just wants to be… a normal guy. He doesn’t want me worrying or getting dragged into that part of his life.”

Stella nodded slowly, biting her lip like she was weighing whether to say something or not. Finally, she sighed.

“Okay… I need to show you something, but don’t freak out. And remember, I’m telling you, girls are working with them too. For example, Jake told me only he and Jay are actual vigilantes, while the others are specialists who collaborate across different dimensions.”

You raised an eyebrow at her, unimpressed.

“Don’t dance around concepts you don’t even understand. In my head, there’s only Earth’s universe and the dangerous one Jay belongs to. Why would I freak out?” you asked, folding your arms.

“Because I know you. And you’re slightly territorial—especially when it comes to Jay.”

The word territorial hit you like a slap. You immediately stiffened, set the nail polish down on the nightstand, and moved closer to the laptop.

“Show me.”

Stella pressed play on a video, and it didn’t take you long to recognize the dark figure of Batman your Batman, who had just finished rescuing hostages. Everything seemed normal until, on his way back from the scene of the robbery, you saw him… with a girl in his arms. Not just any girl.

Red hair. A model’s body. A black leather suit that clung to her like a second skin. A mask covering half her face. She looked like she had stepped straight out of a comic book—and yet she was right there, real, alive, being carried bridal-style by Jay.

The blow of jealousy struck like lightning when, once he placed her in the passenger seat, that girl leaned in and pressed a kiss on his cheek.

Stella immediately lowered the laptop's volume, but it was too late. The video was viral, and the comments were already flying below:

“Is Batman taken?!”

“OMG, who’s that redhead? She’s gorgeous!”

“Batman and Batgirl? They’re the couple we’ve all been waiting for!”

“Their chemistry is insane, don’t even deny it.”

Your hands snapped shut the laptop with a sharp crack that made Stella jump.

“Okay, calm down,” she tried to say, raising her hands in surrender. “She’s probably just a teammate. And that kiss… maybe she was injured, or in shock! I can’t imagine how hard it must be for them, risking their lives every single day.”

You looked at her with an expression that could have set the whole room on fire.

“Injured, huh? Then let’s see what Jay thinks if I go to Heeseung or Sunghoon, wrap my arms real tight around them, and then kiss them. Not on the cheek. But almost on the lips.”

Stella’s eyes widened in disbelief, completely at a loss for words. She knew you too well: that wasn’t an empty threat. You were genuinely jealous. With your lips pressed into a thin line, you shot to your feet and stormed out of the room.

Stella stayed behind, sighing and shaking her head before grabbing her phone and typing a quick message to Jay:

SOS. Y/n just saw the viral video of you and your mission partner. The one who kissed your cheek… let’s say she’s pissed. You’d better talk to her the second you get back, or she’ll explode. And maybe explain that you guys work with women too, not just men.

In the past few days, Jay had been nearly exasperated; not by the missions, not by the endless psychology exams that kept him awake until late at night… but by you. Or rather, by your calculated silence, the cold replies to his messages, the sharp remarks that made it crystal clear that the damn video with Batgirl was still stuck in your head.

You were sitting on your couch, legs pulled to your chest, phone in hand, the screen lighting up constantly with his name: Jay. You let it ring a little just to drive him mad, and when you finally picked up, your voice was cutting.

“Hello, Batman? Aren’t you with your redhead tonight?” The silence on the other end was followed by a low laugh.

“So you’re still jealous.”

“Me? Please,” you scoffed, pretending to be indifferent. “I don’t care about a couple of staged kisses…”

“Oh, so you admit you watched the video closely,” he shot back, amused. You bit the inside of your cheek not to give him the satisfaction.

“Of course. Hard not to when it’s everywhere on every social media and even on the Times Square big screens. But don’t worry, I’m not jealous…”

Jay knew you too well. He could see you weren’t exactly jealous but rather territorial, and honestly, that made it almost exciting for him.

When you went out with the others, he noticed it: you didn’t pay him the same attention as before, instead laughing and joking with everyone except him. Once, he even caught you chatting way too close to Sunghoon, your hand nearly brushing his arm, and Jay walked right over, jaw tight and that ironic smile plastered on his face.

“Interesting. I didn’t know you enjoyed Sunghoon’s company that much.”

You looked at him innocently with those eyes you already knew drove him crazy.

“Oh, Jay, weren’t you busy with your mission partner? I wouldn’t want to disturb you.”

He brushed your hair back with two fingers, leaning in to graze your ear.

“So you are jealous after all.”

Your body stiffened for a second before you lifted your chin proudly.

“And if I were? Should I feel guilty about it?”

Jay’s lips curled into a sly smirk as he whispered against your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine.

“No, I feel incredibly flattered… I never thought my girl was this… territorial.”

The night the bomb really went off, you walked into his Manhattan apartment in a loose pink hoodie unzipped just enough to show hints of bare skin and the edge of your bra, grey sweatpants hugging your hips, and a determined stride that betrayed your mood. You were ready to pick a fight with Jay, and you found him at the table, laptop open, notes scattered, and the speakerphone on. The voice coming through wasn’t a professor’s or a classmate’s. No, it was thatvoice. A soft, melodramatic female voice you had grown to despise.

“Jay, I don’t want to work with anyone else… I only want you. You’re the only one who understands me, and I’m not about to partner with one of your crazy friends.”

Your blood ran cold, your hands prickled, and to make it worse, Jay’s tone was gentle when he replied: “Hanna, you know perfectly well that one day I won’t be a vigilante anymore. There will be other heroes, other specialists. You just need to team up with one of them. I’m sure you’ll get along.”

Without thinking, you stormed across the room, snatched the phone from his hand, and pressed it to your ear. “Listen to me, Hanna,” you hissed, your tone sharp as a blade. “Stop calling him every time you need something. Jay isn’t yours. He never was and never will be. He’s mine and if he tells you to figure things out on your own, then figure it out yourself and find someone else to bother, because my boyfriend isn’t here to save your ass every time.”

You didn’t even wait for her reply. You hung up and tossed the phone on the table, eyes shooting daggers at Jay, who was sitting there with one eyebrow arched and his lower lip caught between his teeth, as if barely holding back a laugh.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” you growled. He raised his hands in mock surrender, but the curve of his mouth remained wicked. “So… you’re not denying it anymore?”

“Denying what?” you snapped. He rose slowly, two strides bringing him right in front of you, his finger brushing under your chin.

“That you’re jealous.”

You folded your arms over your chest, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks. “And if I were?” you shot back, defiant.

Jay chuckled. “Then you should know… seeing you like this turns me on like crazy.”

“Asshole,” you spat, trying to walk away, but he caught you around the waist, pulling you tight against his chest. He leaned down, lips ghosting over yours with his breath hot. “Say it again.”

Jay slid you effortlessly onto his lap, strong hands gripping your hips like he’d never let you go. His lips curved into a conspiratorial smile before he bent his head, trailing a line of warm kisses along your skin starting at your neck, drifting lower to the edge of your open hoodie, grazing the curve of your breast, then down toward your hips. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, as if to show you that no one else existed in his world but you. A shiver ran through your spine, and before you realized it, you pressed yourself even closer to him, thighs tightening around his waist.

“J-Jay…” you stammered, not daring to admit out loud how jealous you truly were of every other woman in existence. He lifted his gaze just enough to catch yours. “Stop acting like a child,” he murmured with quiet authority. “You know I only think about you… not since we got together, but for years.”

Your eyes fell as his mouth teased and nipped at the edges of your bra, lips alternating between soft bites and deeper kisses against your skin. A moan slipped from your lips as his mouth worked its way up and down, marking you with heat.

“J-Jay… I…” your voice cracked, your fingers buried in his hair. “I’m tired… I can’t take it anymore.”

He chuckled low, teeth sinking into the curve of your neck just enough to leave a mark, branding you as his. “Tired of what?” he whispered between kisses, his teeth grazing your skin to draw out another whimper. “What can’t you take anymore, hm?”

A small, needy sound escaped you as you pulled his hair hard enough to make him look at you. “I need you,” you confessed, your voice raw.

He froze for a beat, then you dragged him down to you without hesitation. Your mouths crashed together, and the kiss that followed was anything but sweet—it was angry, hungry, charged with every fight, every jab, every provocation, and every night you’d spent secretly craving each other but too stubborn to admit it. Your tongues tangled instantly, no hesitation, while his hands slid under your sweatpants, fingertips grazing the hot skin of your thighs. He groaned into your mouth:

“I’m tired too… tired of fighting you. I want you… I’ve wanted you for too damn long.”

A sigh slipped from your lips as you nipped gently at his lower lip, drawing a guttural groan from him, and then you let your tongue slide into his mouth, claiming what had always been yours. “Then don’t wait any longer,” you panted between kisses, “because I want you too… and I’m never leaving again.”

Jay lifted you suddenly, whispering against your lips, “Perfect… because I’m not letting you go, not even if you beg me. You know what drives me crazy?” he teased with a wicked grin as he nibbled your ear. “That you always act like such a spoiled little brat… but under me, you tremble like a fragile girl.”

A sly smile curved your lips and you began to move lightly on top of him, your body brushing against his. His fingers slid under the waistband of your sweatpants, and you let out a soft moan. “Jay…” you whispered, biting down on your lip.

“Tell me exactly what you want, Barbie,” he murmured, his fingers grazing over the thin fabric of your underwear. “Or should I find out myself?”

You shot him a challenging look, cheeks flushed. “Find out if you can.”

Your answer made him laugh, and in one swift motion he tugged down your sweatpants, leaving you in just your lingerie. “God, look at you in these little sets…” he cursed under his breath, licking his lips. He leaned in, parting your thighs slowly, letting his hot breath tease your skin as his eyes locked shamelessly on you. Then, with deliberate slowness that made you squirm, he tugged at the edge of your underwear with his teeth, the pace driving you insane.

Pinned beneath him, wrists caught above your head, you arched your back with a strangled whimper. “Oh, damn… Jay…”

He glanced up at you with a wicked grin. “Hear how good my name sounds on your lips?”

Jay braced himself over you, his lips wandering down your stomach, leaving light kisses and playful marks as if he wanted to brand you with his attention. Soon his hand swept your hair aside as he pulled off his hoodie, revealing his toned chest, sculpted abs, and that sharp V-line that made you swallow hard.

Your trembling hands couldn’t resist trailing over his warm skin, sliding slowly down his stomach until they stopped just above his hips. You shot him a mischievous look. “You know I find your V-line incredibly sexy, right?”

Jay rolled his eyes, though a smirk tugged at his mouth. “Christ, you’re insufferable,” he muttered, leaning down to reclaim your lips. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, commanding.

“Open them,” he whispered against your mouth, and you obeyed, shy but eager. He pushed them higher, almost to your chest, pinning you in place with his strength. “That’s it… good girl,” he murmured before lowering his lips again. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of driving you crazy like this.”

His kisses turned torturous first at your knee, then higher, lingering at the soft skin of your thigh. You moaned quietly, one hand tangling in his hair, the other clutching the couch fabric tight. His kisses grew fiercer, alternating between teasing bites and heated presses of his lips, leaving faint red marks on your skin.

“If you keep this up, Jay, you’ll cover me in marks!” you scolded breathlessly.

“Perfect, Barbie. That was my intention, so tomorrow, or even in the next few days, when you wear those ridiculous little skirts, pretending to be the good girl you’re not, everyone will know you belong only to me. They’ll see that someone is always waiting for you at home at the end of the day.”

You blushed, eyes wide, and snapped back, “You’re such a jerk!” He only smirked before lowering his mouth higher, leaving a dark mark just above your most intimate spot. You cried out, “Jay!”

“What is it, Barbie?” His voice was pure provocation as his fingers brushed lightly over your sensitive nub. “Weren’t you the one always teasing me? Now deal with it.”

Your breath turned ragged as his lips finally pressed right where you craved it most, sending a shiver through you that made you moan loudly. “Oh, God…” you gasped, clutching at his hair.

Jay smiled against you and murmured, “Look at how wet you get, just for me…”

You bit your lip, a sound of both frustration and pleasure escaping. “Stop talking to me like that…”

He looked up with a wicked glint. “No..because I know you love it.” Then his tongue slid slowly across your folds, making you jolt.

“Jay…” you whimpered, your legs instinctively trying to close, but he held them firmly apart. “Don’t close them, sweetheart,” he ordered in a low, commanding voice. “Let me enjoy the view. I’ve dreamed for years of teasing you, of making you moan and silencing you with my mouth somewhere other than your lips.”

He didn’t give you time to respond. His tongue moved languidly over your sensitive bud, slow and sensual, each stroke drawing a helpless moan from you. Your hands flew to his hair, gripping hard. “Please… I want your tongue,” you begged, voice trembling.

He chuckled against you, the vibrations making your body quiver. “Do you deserve it, sweetheart?”

You huffed, nose scrunching, and nodded desperately. “Yes....I damn well deserve it.”

He shook his head, amused, but then paused when he noticed the tiny heart-shaped beauty mark near your thigh. He bent down, pressing a tender kiss to it, whispering a hushed curse. “Beautiful… just like the rest of you.”

Then he returned to your center, this time with hunger. His tongue drew slow, perfect circles over your swollen clit, alternating between quick flicks and long, deep sucks that made you unravel. Pleasure surged through you so intensely it stole your breath, your back arching on its own under his touch. “Oh, God… yes, Jay!” you cried, legs instinctively tightening around his neck. But your grip on his hair was too harsh, and Jay growled, low and animalistic. In a flash, he pinned your wrists above your head with one strong hand, holding you firmly down against the couch.

“One: you’re too loud,” he said seriously. “Two: stop abusing my hair, Barbie, or I’ll tie your hands.”

You blushed, letting out a small laugh as you bit your lip, and then you replied with a boldness that made the boy above you snap. “Maybe I’d even like that.”

You shouldn’t have said those words, because without warning, Jay pushed a finger deep inside you all the way to the hilt. A scream tore from your throat as your back arched violently. “Ohhh fuck…!” you gasped, your hips moving on their own against his hand.

He smirked, clearly satisfied, moving his finger slowly and deeply while his tongue greedily teased your clit. “Now you’ll learn not to laugh at me.”

You looked at him, panting. “Asshole… you’re driving me crazy.”

Jay quickened his pace, his finger sliding in and out faster, the heel of his palm grinding against your most sensitive spot. With his free hand, he gripped your hip tightly, holding you down. “That’s exactly where you like it, isn’t it?” he whispered against your heated skin. “Look at you trembling… dripping wet just for me. Say it.”

“I… I’m wet for you,” you moaned, eyes squeezed shut as your head fell back from the pleasure. But Jay either hadn’t heard clearly—or maybe he had, and he just wanted to hear it again.

“Louder,” he ordered, curling his finger against your tender walls.

“I’m wet only for you, Jay!” you screamed, and he grinned. “Good girl. That’s what I want.”

His finger slid in and out with slow, deep thrusts, curling perfectly against your most sensitive spot each time, while his other hand kept your wrists pinned above your head, denying you any freedom. Your breath grew ragged, chest rising and falling like you were drowning.

“Jay…” you whimpered softly, twisting your hips against him. “Let me go… I want to touch you too… I swear I won’t hurt you.”

At last, he released your wrists. His hands slid down to grip your hips tightly, keeping you pinned while his finger continued working inside you. With no anchor left, your hand clawed at the edge of the couch, knuckles white, your moans rising higher and sharper—until you felt it: a second finger easing its way in, stretching you even more. A broken moan escaped, almost a whimper.

“Ohh… fuck, Jay…”

You writhed against him, thighs trembling, as he worked both fingers in a slow but devastating rhythm. His tongue never left your clit, tracing perfect circles and figure-eights that left you quivering.

“Look at the way you move…” he murmured against you. “You can’t even keep still, I’m making you feel so good.” His tone was mocking, taunting, but dripping with desire.

“I’m… I’m about to come,” you confessed, and he lifted his gaze just slightly, watching you whimper with pleasure. “You want to come, huh?” he teased, flicking your clit with his tongue even more. “Yes… yes, please!” you panted, eyes glassy with need. “Then tell me… who’s the only one who can make you come like this? Who’s the only one allowed to touch you here?” His fingers plunged faster into you, making you cry out. “You… you, Jay!” you nearly screamed in desperation, but he ordered, “Louder.” “Only you, Jay! It’s only you!”

His smirk was the last thing you saw before his lips closed around your clit again, sucking greedily while his fingers thrust harder and deeper. The pleasure detonated inside you: your body clenched around him, thighs trembling in little spasms that shook you all over as you came with a strangled scream. A single tear slipped down your cheek, unnoticed, as you were completely lost in ecstasy.

Jay pulled back slowly, leaning over you, and brushed the tear from your cheek with his thumb, his expression softening just a little. “Good girl… my Barbie,” he rasped. “You came so hard for me, you even started crying.” He pressed a tender kiss to your temple before biting your lip again.

Jay shifted back, peeling off his sweatpants with a slow, deliberate motion, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him, biting your lip as you followed the flex of his muscles under his skin. He dropped onto the couch like a king on his throne and crooked his finger at you in a commanding gesture. “Climb on.”

“Seriously?” you chuckled, raising a brow as you pushed yourself up, still trembling faintly from the orgasm. “Are you giving me permission to… dominate you?”

He shrugged, that cocky smirk etched across his face. “I’d bet money you’ll dominate me for a little while… then you’ll get tired, and you won’t last long riding me.”

You gawked at him, coughing like you hadn’t heard right, then scoffed. “Your ego is embarrassing.” Jay chuckled lowly, lifting a shoulder. “It’s not ego, Barbie—it’s just facts.”

You shot him a glare, but your body betrayed you, sliding onto his lap. The moment you straddled him, you felt his cock—hard, hot—pressing against your still-sensitive center, and a moan slipped from your lips at the same time he let out a guttural growl.

You began moving slowly against him, grinding back and forth as if testing the friction, and each brush of his tip against you made you shiver. You leaned down, catching his neck between your lips, biting gently at his skin. “You’re such a bastard,” you whispered between bites, while his hand kneaded your breast roughly, the other slipping down to your clit, teasing with skilled fingers.

The moan that left you was almost a whimper. “I can’t take another orgasm like this… I want you inside, Jay,” you begged like a desperate girl. He chuckled against your ear. “Didn’t think you’d be so needy for my touch, for me to be inside you, Barbie, not when you’re always teasing me.”

You didn’t answer. Your hands slid down to his boxers. “Lift your hips.”

When you tugged them down, the sight left you breathless—his cock sprang free, thick, long, the swollen tip flushed a deep pink, slapping against his tense abs. A small gasp slipped from you, followed by a teasing pout. “It’s a shame I’ve never seen it before… because I would’ve...”

He cut you off, pressing a finger against your lips. “Now’s not the time to praise my cock,” he growled with a half-smile that made your stomach clench. “Now’s the time to feel it inside you.”

The finger slid away, and you caught it between your teeth with a playful nip. He growled again, hands gripping your hips tightly. You braced your hands on his broad shoulders, lifting yourself slightly as you felt him align with you, cruelly precise. The swollen tip pressed against you, sliding just inside before retreating, making you jolt and arch with pleasure. The teasing thrusts drove you mad, need clawing at your insides.

“Jay… stop it,” you whispered, a mix of plea and command, clutching harder at his shoulders. “No more teasing… I’m ready to take you.”

He smirked, dark eyes glittering with mischief. “I’m all yours, Barbie… let’s see if you can handle me.”

You lifted yourself just a little, and in that instant he guided his shaft slowly against you until your body welcomed him in. The slide of his length made you shudder and tense at the same time because the sensation was devastating: he stretched you, filled you, and yet it felt like your body had been molded perfectly for him. Both of you moaned almost in unison, and his fingers dug hard into the flesh of your hips, gripping you as if he were afraid you might slip away. “Fuck…” he growled under his breath, “You’re… so tight. I’m meant to stay inside you forever, Y/n.”

A shiver ran down your spine and, with a gasp, you opened your eyes to look down at him: the sight of him beneath you, completely lost in the pleasure, his face contorted with the feeling of being inside you for the first time, made you tremble even harder. “You’re… so big, Jay…” you whispered, surprised and utterly surrendered to that reality, and he chuckled, leaning in to kiss your neck. “Just wait until you get used to me… then you can start moving. Because if you stay still like this, I won’t last long,” he muttered, and you nodded before lifting yourself slightly at the hips, feeling his cock slip out only to sink back in slowly. Your voice broke into a moan every time he filled you again, the rhythm slow, measured, but enough to drive you both insane.

He followed every one of your movements, his hands sliding down to your ass, gripping it tightly and guiding you with each thrust to savor the feeling of having you all over him. Every time you bounced lightly, he pushed deeper, and the air was filled with your moans of pleasure mixed with his groans. “Christ, Y/n… feel how you’re taking all of me…” he panted, biting his lip. “Ride me like that… show me you’re mine.”

His hoarse voice shot through you like a jolt, and you started riding him with more conviction, your body quickly finding the rhythm of his hips, your hot walls squeezing him tighter with each thrust. Your breasts bounced in front of his eyes, full and soft, and Jay seemed to lose every bit of control at the sight of your body fitting so perfectly with his. He lifted himself slightly, stretching forward, and caught one of your nipples between his teeth, sucking on it greedily. “Ah-J-Jay!” you cried out, your head falling back as waves of pleasure coursed through you. His tongue teased your sensitive bud, nibbling it before sucking harder, all while his cock thrust deeper, filling you completely. Every time you bounced down on him you felt how perfectly he fit inside you, each stroke tearing moans from your throat, the sounds of your bodies colliding filling the room along with the city noises outside New York. “That’s it… show me how you ride your king, Barbie. I want to hear you scream only my name.”

His voice made you moan even louder, your body moving desperately against his, the sensation of his tongue on your breast combined with the relentless fullness of his cock dragging you closer and closer to the edge. You placed a hand on his hard stomach, pushing him back slightly until he was leaned against the couch, and for a moment you had him sprawled beneath you. The sight of his strong body under your control pulled a whimper from your lips. Jay always ready to dominate you, was right there at your mercy. But he wasn’t the kind to surrender completely; he just shook his head, and that arrogant smile spread across his lips. “Don’t fool yourself, Barbie… I’ll never lose control with you.”

That challenge lit you up even more, and you lifted yourself only to slam back down harder, his cock spearing deeper than before. A cry of raw pleasure ripped from your chest as your muscles clenched spasmodically around him. “I want to feel you… I want you to come inside me,” you confessed between broken moans, no longer holding anything back.

His eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his face at your request. “What?” he stammered. “I… I’m clean, but I’ve never done it without protection.” A shiver raced down your spine, and you bit your lip, rolling your hips against him as you whispered in a trembling voice, “Neither have I… but I’m on the pill. I want to feel you… really feel you, Jay.”

A strangled curse escaped his lips as he watched you ride him, and he pushed himself up on his forearms, driving deeper. The swollen tip of his cock pressed right against your sweetest spot. “Oh God! J-Jay!” He smiled through the sweat dripping down his temples. “There? Is that your spot, baby?”

You nodded, eyes glassy and filled with tears of pleasure you couldn’t hold back, and each time he thrust and you bounced on his cock, the tears rolled down your cheeks. He looked ecstatic at the sight. “Don’t hide them…” he growled in your ear. “I want to see you cry for me...every time I decide to make you come, every time I claim you as mine.”

A sob tore through you, and between desperate moans you gasped, “I-I’m coming, Jay… I’m about to come!” That was when he rose fully upright, grabbing you under the ass with both hands and lifting you, slamming you back down onto him with forceful thrusts. His cock filled you to the very last inch, perfectly hammering your G-spot, while his thumb found your swollen clit and toyed with it mercilessly. “Come for me, Barbie you deserve it. I want to feel you squeeze me, I want you to soak my cock while you scream my name,” he growled, biting down on your skin.

ay reached out and grabbed the blanket draped over the edge of the huge couch, wrapping it around the two of you in a warm, soft embrace. You rested your head on his chest, right where his heart was pounding hard, biting your lip as you couldn’t stop thinking about what had just happened—because it had been the most beautiful, most intense, most real thing you had ever experienced. And yet… the thought cut through you like a blade: why hadn’t he told you he loved you, too?

You had never been in love before, had never wanted anyone with that same hunger, that same desperation. And you wanted him with every fiber of your being. But you knew your own character too well: stubborn, complicated, difficult. You feared that for Jay you might only be a special fling, but still just temporary… one of many, destined to bore him sooner or later. Truth be told, you had never been lucky in love or friendship—everyone had grown tired of you eventually. Everyone, except Stella and your brother, of course.

As his fingers gently stroked your back, as his breath lulled you like nothing in the world could touch you, that question kept burning inside. And so, you stayed silent for far too long.

Jay, lying beneath you, didn’t seem in any hurry to move. One hand traced slow circles on your bare side, his fingertips barely brushing your skin as if sketching something only he could see. You didn’t know how to act you had never in your life felt this restless, your heart pounding too fast, words stuck in your throat, the sensation that if you spoke you’d break down crying in front of the boy you loved.

So you tried to get up slowly, as if you could escape the suffocating vulnerability wrapping around you. But Jay noticed immediately. He shot you a curious look, his brows furrowing as he asked, “Where do you think you’re going?”

You bit your lip, unable to withstand those dark eyes studying you. You looked around, desperately searching for some excuse that would make sense… but nothing came. And as the tension rose, a small tear slipped down your cheek. Jay sat up right away, worry flashing across his face as he cupped your face.

“Hey, baby…” he said, his voice both gentle and worried. “Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong? Was I too rough?” His fingers brushed your cheek, wiping away that drop he knew wasn’t from joy or pleasure. He had promised himself he’d only ever make you cry from one of those two things.

You shook your head and managed only a whisper: “No… it was perfect.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he tucked a strand of sweaty hair behind your ear, tilting his head slightly. “Then what’s wrong?”

You shrugged, unable to answer, and muttered only: “It’s stupid…”

Jay shook his head, his thumbs stroking your skin gently. “There’s nothing stupid if it makes you feel like this. Tell me what it is, Y/n. I want to know.”

You suddenly hugged him, clinging to his chest as if you could hide inside him. Jay froze for a moment, then chuckled softly, his tone slipping back into teasing. “You know, deep down you’re just like your brother Jake… a clingy girl.”

Normally, you would’ve teased him back—answered with sarcasm or punished him with a little bite on his neck. But this time, you stayed silent. And that threw him off, because you could talk even to walls when you were bored. Slowly, his smile faded, and in a low voice he said, “You’ve been so quiet… ever since you told me you love me.”

Your body stiffened immediately, and you felt your cheeks burn. In a small, trembling voice, you replied: “I… I don’t expect you to say anything. If you don’t feel it, it’s better if you stay quiet… I told you because I truly felt it… not because I expected anything.”

Jay remained silent for a few seconds, studying you as if trying to read inside you. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smile curved his lips. He gently lifted your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look at him, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. In a low voice, he whispered: “I love you, Y/n.”

Your heart seemed to explode in your chest, and you almost lost your breath when he kissed your cheek more firmly and repeated: “I love you, Y/n.”

Finally, his lips met yours in a shy, gentle kiss that sent shivers through you. This time, his voice was a little louder as he said: “I love you, Y/n… Maybe I’ve been too ashamed to say it until now.”

Tears filled your eyes, but this time they were tears of joy. Seeing you cry from happiness made Jay feel a thousand times better, and you smiled at him, your voice trembling as you whispered: “I love you too, Jay.”

He chuckled softly and pulled you into a tight embrace, as if he wanted to merge with you. Jay realized that perhaps all those years of teasing, playful fights, little scenes, and stolen glances had led to a pure love between the two of you.

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p0ckykiss · 1 day ago

Text

secret desires - park sunghoon

SUMMARY -> park sunghoon is a respected, well loved professor and husband. all his morals seem to go out the window when he catches himself yearning for a certain student with big eyes and a contagious smile.

WORDS -> approx. 7k

WARNINGS -> professor park sunghoon, age gap, university student female reader, reader is a little nerdy and shy, sexual tension, cheating, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, mild degradation, blowjob, oral (female receiving), no protection sex

“professor park," you hesitatingly began, clutching onto the strap of your book bag. “i really want to apologize for not turning in the assignment yesterday. i’ve just—it’s been a long hectic week, and i forgot there was even work due.”

sunghoon pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as you talked, his eyes softening from the reasoning. he sighed, but came to the conclusion that since you rarely missed handing in work that he could forget about it this time.

"i understand," sunghoon assured. "you know i don't accept excuses lightly, but i'll make an exception this time."

you whispered a small ‘thank you’. you both went quiet, the only sounds being the few students who stayed back to collect their books and notes; accompanied with the faint tick of the clock on the wall. you felt the weight of your own breathing and were all too aware to the intense beating of your heart.

sunghoon began to look through the small pile of papers he had on his desk. he pulled one out and handed it to you.

“i’ll give you another chance,” sunghoon said, his tone firm but not unkind. your eyes widened at the extension of grace. “take this extra copy home with you and work on it tonight, then hand it in to me tomorrow after class at my office.”

you nodded, and reached for the paper in sunghoon's grasp. your hands brushed against each other, causing electricity to fly through the both of you. your fingers twitched at the contact, but you quickly retreated with the paper now in your hand.

sunghoon pretended to seem unphased, but his heart raced at the fleeting touch. he itched to reach back out to you, to feel the soft surface of your skin again—but he held himself together.

"thank you," you blurted, louder than you intended before bowing. a fellow student strided by you two, saying a quick goodbye to sunghoon as they walked out of the classroom. you cleared your throat. “thank you for allowing me this second chance.”

“of course, y/n. you’re one of my best students, and i trust that you will get yourself back on track.” sunghoon smiled softly, and you nodded wordlessly as you carefully put the assignment in your bookbag.

the last student exited the classroom, and it became quiet between the you two once more. you looked up, and sunghoon noticed the pink dusting on your cheeks, and how you averted your eyes when they made contact with his.

"i'd better go," you said with a small, nervous laugh as you gestured your head over to the door. “thank you once again, sir. i won’t disappoint you.”

sunghoon made an affirmative noise, unable to gather the right words to respond. he watched as you quickly slipped out the main door, the sound of your retreating footsteps fading into the distance.

the classroom was now fully emptied. it was just sunghoon now, and that fucking annoying clock that coincided with the inner turmoil that his conscious suffered through.

god, he knew it was wrong. not only was it completely unacceptable for a teacher to feel towards a student, he was also a married man. he knew he needed to push aside the feelings that had been growing inside him each passing day—but every time he saw you, a hidden force of desire threatened to break every ounce of his self control.

no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards you. he was drawn to almost everything you did, like the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your favorite subject, the way you eagerly took notes throughout class, or how you chewed your bottom lip when you were deep in thought—it was all too much.

in attempt to distract himself, sunghoon picked up his pen and stared at the blank page in front of him. he had so much to prepare for tomorrow's lecture, so he began writing notes for himself and things to remember for the chapter they were going over. even as sunghoon began to write, his thoughts kept wandering where he didn’t want them to go, and it was an extreme challenge to keep them focused on what was in front of him.

his marriage vows, his responsibilities, and the rules of student and teacher academic relationships weighed heavily on his mind. the piles of paperwork at his desk weren’t helping ease his stress either.

with a heavy sigh, sunghoon decided he had done enough for the afternoon. he wasn’t going to complete much if his head wasn’t in the right place. as he stood up, the chair scraped against the floor. he desperately needed to get out of the building and clear his head.

packing up his papers in his briefcase and grabbing his coat, sunghoon stepped out into the corridor to return to the comfort of his own home.

driving home, sunghoon just couldn't shake the image of your hand making contact with his. he could still feel where your fingers touched, the phantom sensation burning into his skin. he couldn’t forget the obvious shyness you carried after the touch, how it made you so irresistibly tempting and sweet.

he took a deep breath when he pulled into his driveway. the lights of the house were on, and the guilt from earlier began to settle in him once again he thought of his wife, how she was likely waiting for him inside, expecting him to be the husband he vowed to be—the husband she deserved.

sunghoon stepped into the house, and the scent of his wife’s perfume warmly embraced his senses. he could hear her humming happily in the kitchen as he hung up his coat and took off his shoes.

with a final, deep sigh, he attempted to compose himself before he went to greet her. he pushed his conflicting emotions down in hopes that they would disappear at least for the night. unfortunately for him, some things just refuse to be silenced.

the smell of dinner welcomed him as he entered the kitchen. sensing sunghoon's presence, his wife turned around from her cooking with a sweet smile. it slowly faded when she saw the somber look on his face.

"everything okay?" she asked, concern etched in her voice. she set her wooden spoon down and moved closer to him, holding onto his arms gently.

"just a long day," he reassured, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. he leaned down and kissed her soft, familiar lips.

and no, he didn’t necessarily lie. it had been a long day with all the assignments he had to grade, but that was far from the reason why dread exhibited itself on his face.

“well, you can eat a good meal and take things easy tonight, love.” her soft smile returned and she rubbed his arms reassuringly.

she moved away and began to set the table for their meal. he sat down, and they shared dinner together. her conversations and company were a good distraction to prevent his mind drifting to where it wanted. she was good at making him feel better. she was so sweet, and she was more than a good wife, but.

she wasn’t you.

and nothing sunghoon could say to himself could make him think any differently.

the two finished dinner, and with their regular routine, she cleared the table while he washed the dishes. she came up from behind him as he faced towards the sink and kissed the back of his neck.

“i’m gonna retire to bed early tonight,” she hummed faintly. “don’t stay up too late in your study.”

sunghoon nodded silently, and closed his eyes when she squeezed his waist before slipping away. he detested the way he instantly thought how it would have felt if those hands belonged to a certain someone else.

the moment sunghoon encouraged more thoughts about you, he couldn’t push them away again. he could only wonder what you were doing, if you were working on his assignment by this time. if you were thinking of him too.

after he cleared the sink, sunghoon made it to his study, the walls lined with books that now seemed to look down on him. he sat at his desk, and stared at the framed picture of his wife. her eyes held warmth as they always did; but at that moment he could only feel her stare as judgment, like she could see right through him.

there was a voice in his head that tried to comfort him, one that tried to tell him it was okay to feel this way-–but he knew it wasn't. he was a respected husband and professor, he couldn't betray the trust placed in him.

he rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache coming on with how much stress he had stored inside of him. he couldn’t keep avoiding the work he had in front of him though, so he pushed his thoughts aside and focused on the papers in front of him.

as soon as he finished his notes and reviewed them for his lecture in the morning, he laid in bed next to his wife. she had her arm around his waist as she slept soundly, but she didn’t provide warmth. not the way you could.

he couldn't push away the images of your soft smile that reached your round and wide eyes, the flowery fragrance that follows you around, and the way you bite down on your lips throughout sunghoon's lectures.

the lines between right and wrong blurred, and sunghoon found himself drowning in a hopeless spiral of want and longing once more. it was going to be a painfully long night.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚✎

he hardly got any sleep, but even so sunghoon got up managed to get himself dressed. as he stared into his bathroom mirror, he seriously began to scold himself. he had to find a way to control his feelings, to stop letting them get out of hand and to maintain the boundary that separated him and you. as he adjusted his tie, he made a silent vow to keep his distance, to treat you purely as just a student.

but as his students started filling the classroom, sunghoon found himself purposely eyeing for you. every time a person entered and it wasn’t you, he went back to seeming busy with his papers.

when the final rush of students entered through the classroom door, sunghoon spotted you almost instantly. you were talking with one of the classmates, but as you two walked up the side stairs to get a seat together, you looked around and caught sunghoon's gaze.

for a split moment, everything and everyone else faded away. it only lasted a couple seconds, before you were smiling shyly and looking away, heading off to your seat with your friend.

if anyone else had a glimpse of your encounter, they would think nothing of it. it was so short, so subtle, but to sunghoon it felt like forever. it might be childish to feel like fireworks went off with how your eyes locked—especially with the way that sweet blush creeped onto your beautiful face.

before sunghoon got too ahead of himself, he remembered he’s in a classroom with students to teach. he needed to focus, which was easier said than done.

once all the students settled in their seats and pulled out their laptops along with their notes, sunghoon began his lecture.

it dragged on, every minute passing by slowly. he almost slipped up on his words whenever he’d steal glances at you. every movement, every bite of your lower lip, the tapping of your pen and the way your beautiful eyes would stare right back at sunghoon was extremely distracting.

even so, he continued with his lecture, determined to make it the rest of the way through without messing up. surprisingly, he did.

after closing the lecture up and dismissing the class with what little composure he had left, sunghoon packed his briefcase up and hurried to his office.

as soon as he shut the office door, he let out a deep sigh that he had been keeping stored inside all morning. he regretted telling you to meet him at his office, because at least if he was in front of other students he could control himself somewhat better—but the two of you being alone was dangerous territory.

he tossed his briefcase to the side, and brought himself over to the sliding chair by his work desk. god. he needed to pull himself together.

a knock came from his door, causing him to tense up. he silently prayed he would have the strength to overcome whatever urges that spring up on him. remain professional, he reminded himself.

"come in," sunghoon voiced out loud enough for you to hear.

you came through the door, with your assignment in hand. “hi,” you spoke softly, smiling sweetly. any words sunghoon had in his throat instantly died.

“professor, i finished the assignment.” you proudly announced before you shut the door behind you, the latches clicking quietly in the midst of the tension between you both.

sunghoon's heart ached with a yearning so intense it was genuinely painful. the voice of reason that told him to maintain his professionalism was suddenly being drowned out by his desires.

“i knew you could do it,” sunghoon said, trying to conceal the strain in his voice. “i’ll look over it tonight and give you a grade for it tomorrow.”

he took the assignment as you handed it to him, setting it down on his desk. a few moments of silence simmered between you both, neither of you having the ability to say what was truly on your mind. you lingered by the closed door, playing with the frayed strings of your sweater.

“i wanted to.. tell you how grateful i am, by the way.” you began slowly. you looked up from where your hands fidgeted to meet sunghoon's sharp eyes that makes your knees feel weak. “for letting me try again. you didn’t have to at all, but i really do appreciate it.”

sunghoon smiled warmly, and butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“i was more than happy to assist you,” sunghoon responded simply. “you’re good at what you do, and i wouldn’t want you to feel discouraged for missing one deadline.”

you nodded, a shy heat forming on your face from the compliment. the silence came to accompany you both once more while your eyes locked and searched for an answer to that unsaid question.

“well, i—that’s all, thank you again. i should get going,” you said almost dejectedly, afraid to overstay your welcome despite your wish to linger longer. you bowed and turned to leave.

sunghoon's mind began to scream with barely any restraint, begging him not to let you walk out that door. he needed to say what he felt, he knew you felt something towards him too and he couldn’t let this chance slide without at least trying.

sunghoon quickly got up from the chair, his hand catching your arm.

"don’t," he whispered, desperate. the word was a plea and a command rolled into one. you stopped where sunghoon held you and looked back at him.

for a moment, you both just stood there, the tension between you thickening heavily that it was suffocating. his grip on your arm tightened, while your face was mixed with surprise and something else—something that made sunghoon's pulse quicken.

sunghoon found his body gravitating closer towards yours, and suddenly he could feel warm uneven breath ghosting against his lips. his eyes stayed locked with yours, loosening his grip on your arm to give you a chance to pull away.

but you didn’t move away. you stayed right in front of sunghoon, allowing him to hover over you closely. your eyes searched through his, before glancing down to his lips.

with a groan that barely sounded like his own, sunghoon closed the distance between you, his hand coming to the back of your nape and his other to grab around your waist as he claimed your sweet lips that had haunted his every waking hour.

you gasped between his mouth, but it quickly turned into a sigh, your body melting into the embrace. you gripped onto sunghoon's biceps, and returned the kiss eagerly.

everything sunghoon said to himself last night and this morning went straight out the window, and what could he say? he was a weak man.

you kissed and kissed, barely catching a breath in between. it didn’t take long for it to grow more heated, more desperate, as if you were trying to devour each other. sunghoon could feel the tremble in your body, the way you leaned into his touch.

"professor," you breathed out when you had just barely parted. the title should have sent a reality check back to sunghoon's brain but it only made arousal seep further into the pit of his stomach.

“i got you.” sunghoon reassured, allowing his hands to roam and explore the curves of your body with heightened urgency. it was like all the emotions and tension that had built between you came crashing down the second your lips touched, and sunghoon couldn’t hold anything back anymore. his mouth moved down, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw, your neck.

"you're so beautiful," sunghoon said lowly, pressing his lips alongside your jaw. his hand slipped lower behind, cupping your ass. he squeezed the firm flesh, causing your grip on his arms to tighten. "i want to taste every inch of you." his breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“do whatever you want,” you pleaded, your breathing coming out in short huffs as your body melded into sunghoon's touch. you quickly moved your hands to undo the buttons of sunghoon's shirt.

sunghoon's hands moved to your waist, squeezing before sliding under your shirt to trace the lines of your stomach. your skin was warm and smooth, a blank canvas just begging to be touched.

"you’ve made it so hard for me, you know that?" sunghoon murmured. your eyes darkened, your pupils blown as sunghoon leaned in closer. "you have no idea how long i’ve wanted you.” he captured your lips again, your spit and tongues connecting.

"you don’t even know how much i’ve wanted you,” you confessed, your voice layered with a desperate whine that sent a thrill through sunghoon. "how—how much i need you.”

the confession unlocked something primal deep within sunghoon that had been held back for far too long. he groaned and pushed you down on the desk, papers scattering under the weight—including the assignment that was now long forgotten.

your kiss grew wilder, you both barely could keep your mouths off each other even when you pulled back to catch your breaths.

as soon as sunghoon's chest was bare, your hands were instantly gripping and caressing sunghoon's back and chest with a burning intensity that left sunghoon's head spinning.

sunghoon pulled back to look down at you, who seemed so gone already, eyes half-lidded with desire and your pretty lips parted. sunghoon's eyes then glanced down over your chest, admiring how it was accompanied beautifully with your toned waist. his mouth salivated at the sight. without much thought, he leaned down, mouthing over one nipple before circling his tongue around it. the action gifted him a sweet sound from you, your fingers threaded through sunghoon's hair as a weak attempt to pull him closer.

and sunghoon quickly found out how responsive you were with your nipples. it was strangely endearing, and unreasonably hot. the attention focused on the sensitive buds made your body jerk and grip tighter at sunghoon's hair, spilling sweet sounds that made sunghoon's cock strain painfully in his pants.

a hand trailed down slowly to cup your cunt through your jeans, making your breath hitch. your body was practically shivering with excitement. sunghoon kissed the wet, swollen nipple before kissing up to your ear.

"will you let me make you feel good?" sunghoon whispered into your ear. you could feel the heat of sunghoon's own hardened length pressing against your thigh, and suddenly all you could think about was having a taste.

breathlessly, you slid off the desk and dropped to your knees, gripping onto sunghoon's dress pants. you looked up at sunghoon, wide eyes glazed over with need.

"let me make you feel good first," you whispered back in return, your voice barely audible, but sunghoon heard you loud and clear. sunghoon swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and nodded, encouraging you to continue.

sunghoon's length was straining against his pants painfully, and you couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight. a hand found its way through your hair, and guided your head towards his clothed dick.

you fumbled with the zipper of sunghoon's slacks, your hands shaking as you freed sunghoon's erection from his briefs opening. you almost moaned at how thick it was and how the tip was already beginning to form precum.

you took a deep breath, the smell of sunghoon's musk dizzying to your senses. as you parted your lips, you looked up at sunghoon, keeping your gaze on him as you slowly began leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses across his length.

you were rewarded with a low moan from sunghoon. sunghoon stared back at you with a piercing, hungry gaze that made you squeeze your thighs together tightly.

your heart was pounding in your chest, the thrill of doing something so forbidden coursing through you like a drug. the taste of sunghoon, the smell of him so close and the heavy feeling of his cock on your tongue was something you wanted to get used to.

you started to loosely suck over the head, causing sunghoon's hips to twitch forward and thrust involuntarily. a moan released from your mouth from the sudden movement, and sunghoon groaned from the vibrations.

eager to hear more sounds like that from him, you then took his cock into your mouth with another soft moan. the head of sunghoon's cock already hitting the back of your throat while you made it more than halfway across the length.

wet sounds filling the small space between you. determined to take sunghoon all the way, you hollowed your cheeks, and bobbed your head up and down.

you only gave a few blowjobs in your life, and you never felt like you were any good at it, but the way sunghoon's grip on your hair tightened and his breathing came out more raggedly encouraged you greatly.

“yeah, yeah, fuck,” sunghoon cursed out huskily. “such a good mouth, making me feel so good, baby.”

you flushed from the praise, your mouth moving faster, eager to please. the thrill of hearing sunghoon's voice, so usually composed and controlled all but now reduced to breathless curses and moans only spurred you on further.

sunghoon moaned and his hips began to rock, the movement setting a rhythm that you willingly followed. the sounds you dragged out of sunghoon made your own arousal grow with every second that passed. you didn’t even realize you were rubbing and shifting your thighs together to provide friction to your aching cunt, already wet from pleasing him.

as your tongue swirled around the tip and throat constricted around the intrusion, sunghoon's thrusts became more erratic, more aggressive. sunghoon's hands then guided you further down on his length as he thrusted forward, causing you to gag.

“come on, take it,” sunghoon said, almost growling it out. it sent a shockwave of heat down into the pit of your stomach. “i know you can take it.”

so you did take it, even as your eyes watered–even as your knees began to hurt after being on the wooden floor for so long, but you didn’t care. you stayed right there and took sunghoon's cock in your mouth like a good girl, and sunghoon made sure to tell you just how good you were.

“you’re doing so good, using your mouth so well.” sunghoon rumbled out, making you keen. “god, i could just cum right down your throat.”

you moaned loudly around his cock, squeezing your thighs together tightly again and breathing heavily through your nose. sunghoon laughed darkly, amused by your desperate reaction.

“you want that?” he teased, eager to see how his words could make you fall apart. he tugged lightly on your hair to look you right in the eyes. “want me to fuck your throat and make you swallow my cum?”

whining, you nodded. sunghoon pulled his length out of your mouth, grinning as you chased after it.

“let me hear you say it.” he ordered.

if your cheeks weren’t red enough, they certainly were now. you looked up at sunghoon, your watery eyes and wet, your pouty lips helping with your pleading look.

“want it,” you panted out, voice raspy. “want your cum, wanna taste it, sir. please. fuck it down my throat.”

sunghoon licked his lips, feeling almost crazed with how badly he wanted to ruin you kneeled before him. he wanted to watch you whine, shake and cry under his touch.

with one hand still in your hair, he grabbed his dick and stroked it a few times before slapping the wet tip to your spit slicked mouth. “open wide, baby.”

you obediently parted your lips and took him back inside your mouth, eyes fluttering shut. you kept your hands on sunghoon's thighs to keep yourself steady, and slackened your jaw to allow him above you to use his mouth as he pleased.

his hips snapped forward and fucked into your mouth like a fleshlight, and that only turned you on even more.

sunghoon drove his cock deep into your throat, making you gag each time, but sunghoon didn't ease up. he held you there for a moment longer than was comfortable before continuing back to chase his orgasm. tears fell from your cheeks, your throat aching and begging for a break, but you were anxious to feel that thick, hard cock throb and convulse in your mouth when it finally came time for sunghoon to cum.

which was approaching quickly. you knew he was close because of his sloppy, stuttered thrust and filthy words.

"shit, fuck," sunghoon gasped, his voice strained as he approached the edge of his release. his hands in your hair tightened. “i’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me fucking cum,”

you responded with a whiny moan, hurriedly sucking harder and swirling your tongue. you hollowed your cheeks more to accommodate the farthest you could reach of sunghoon's length once more, and your eyes rolled back for sunghoon to see—and that was his breaking point.

with one last desperate thrust, sunghoon came with a loud groan, his release hot and thick in your mouth. you moaned with him as cum spilled into your throat hotly. you swallowed every drop, your wet eyes never leaving sunghoon's.

you pulled back with a pop, several strings of saliva mixed with cum connecting from your lips to sunghoon's cock head. it was a sight to behold, and sunghoon couldn’t look away even as the aftershocks of his orgasm rippled through him.

"good?" you asked simply with a lazy smile as you licked your lips, voice hoarse from the persistent assault on your throat.

sunghoon nodded instantly, breathless as his chest heaved. he gripped on the side of the desk to prevent himself from having his legs give up on him. he looked down at you, the sight of you still on your knees, disheveled hair and pink cheeks, mouth swollen from the blowjob, was almost too much to bear.

“get up and bend over the desk.” sunghoon instructed, the need for more already burning inside his core.

when it took you a second to process what he said, sunghoon reached down and pulled you up to your feet, and captured you in a kiss once again, tasting his own release on your mouth.

he broke away, and quickly shoved the remaining papers and books off his workspace before pushing you onto the desk right on your stomach. you couldn’t tell if it was the sudden movements or sunghoon's strong arms manhandling you that left you light headed.

an indefinable sound fell from your lips when sunghoon pulled your jeans down along with your panties in a effortless quick motion, leaving them pooled at your ankles. you whined as the cool air hit your skin, but you arched your back to present your ass better to sunghoon.

it earned you a guttural groan from him behind you, and you were soon feeling sunghoon's hands graze against your thighs.

"spread your legs," sunghoon rumbled lowly, which made your breath hitch and more than willing to comply. your heart hammered against your chest as sunghoon's thumbs caressed the sensitive parts of your inner thighs.

“already so wet," sunghoon murmured, his voice so low and almost taunting that it sent goosebumps down your spine. you could feel his eyes set on your leaking cunt. “so eager.”

you whimpered, your cheek pressed against the cool wood of the desk. you expected to feel his hand rubbing against your neglected cunt, but then suddenly sunghoon was going down on his knees, and without warning, his tongue began to circle around your leaking heat.

the action was so unexpected that it caused your body to jolt, kicking your feet back as an involuntary response.

“wait–oh god, professor,” you cried out, attempting to close your legs until a harsh smack made its way on your ass. your eyes widened and you moaned from the impact, whimpering as sunghoon pulled away to speak.

“keep them open.” sunghoon husked out firmly before he spread your thighs further apart with his hands, spitting directly over your hole. he leaned back in, moaning as he lapped and sucked at your entrance with the intensity of a starved man.

you could only lay there and take it, unable to control the sounds that spilled out of your mouth from sunghoon's experienced, relentless tongue.

you gripped onto the sides of the desk, knuckles white from your effort of trying not to reach back to sunghoon. it was too much and not enough. his mouth was so hot against your skin, and his tongue swirled and probed around your hole in a way that had you gasping for air.

sunghoon leaned back, panting heavily as he swiped his hand over your hole to gather some of his spit, causing your hips to jerk forward.

“stay still for me, baby.” sunghoon urged breathlessly, before diving right back into your slickened entrance. you squeezed your eyes shut and moaned quietly as sunghoon's tongue delved deeper, exploring your most sensitive area.

the room was filled with the sounds of his mouth devouring you completely, it was so much stimulation at once that your body began to quake, your body fighting the orgasm that threatened to consume you.

"could stay here for hours, worshipping your pretty hole.” sunghoon murmured, catching his breath.

"sir," you moaned, voice slightly muffled against the desk. you were so close, so very close. "please, i’m– im getting close,”

sunghoon's grip on your thighs tightened, while his other hand crept up your stomach, to your chest and squeezed the flesh. his tongue grew more and more insistent, making your breaths shorter and sharper, moans louder the more you lost yourself in the moment.

the lingering taste of sunghoon on your tongue, the feel of the same man’s tongue exploring your insides—it was dirty and exhilarating, and it was everything you wanted. you desperately wanted everything he would give you until your legs gave out.

“go on,” sunghoon growled, sucking on your hole. “cum for me. show me how good it feels.”

sunghoon's hand going down rubbing on your clit sent you hurtling over the edge. the orgasm ripped through you, the first wave of pleasure so intense it was borderline painful. your body convulsed as your cunt shot out thick ropes of cum, and sunghoon watched as he rubbed you through it, licking his lips as strips of your release spilled to the floor.

you whined from the oversensitivity and sunghoon slowly moved his hand away, praising you softly as you laid there spent—but sunghoon was far from done. his other hand was still spreading your ass, and thighs watching how your hole spasmed from the aftershocks.

sunghoon's dick throbbed, and he cursed with a groan. he opened one of his desk drawers from the side, and pulled out a bottle of lube. he stood up and uncapped the lid, squeezing the liquid directly on your hole. you flinched against the coldness and held back an embarrassingly loud moan as you felt sunghoon lean over you.

"you want me to fuck you?" sunghoon whispered against your ear, his now slicked up fingers teasing at your entrance. you nodded, pressing your forehead against the desk.

“yes, yes, don’t tease, please—i can’t,” you panted heavily, pushing your ass back in hopes to get your desperation across. “want you so bad,”

sunghoon's long index finger slid into you, the uncomfortable burn of the stretch almost too much to handle-–but you didn't fight against it, didn't ask him to slow down or to ease him into it. you needed sunghoon inside of you like yesterday.

he didn’t waste any time adding a second finger alongside the first, quickly and expertly working you open. he curled his fingers upwards, constantly edging towards that heightened sensitive bundle of nerves that made your toes curl. it didn’t take long for those calloused fingers to get you wet once more.

"oh," you gasped, your eyes watering as sunghoon's fingers stretched out your warm heat. “fuck, oh my god,”

“so tight,” sunghoon leaned down and kissed alongside the your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “so warm. you’re gonna feel so good wrapped around my cock.”

you let out a desperate moan from the words. you rocked your hips back vigorously against sunghoon's fingers.

"tell me how much you want me inside you." sunghoon purred, sliding a third digit inside your tight ring.

"i want it," you begged breathlessly. you were so far gone that you could hardly feel embarrassed for how pathetic you sounded. “sir please, i want your cock inside me, i need you, please,”

with a low groan, sunghoon pulled his fingers free and stroked at his cock to get it wet with the excess lube. he positioned himself at your entrance, nudging past the hole. you tensed, moaning softly as you looked back at him.

sunghoon locked eyes with you and gripped onto your hips, slowly sliding into you. he watched how your lips parted in an ‘o’ shape as his length filled you up to the brim.

“does it feel good, baby?” sunghoon hummed out low as he kept his eyes on you, until your head was falling forward against the desk. it was a question that didn't need an answer. your broken moans were all the confirmation he needed.

“yes, yes,” you panted out, rolling your hips back as sunghoon slowly grinded forward. “you’re—you’re so big. feels like you’re—oh, god, splitting me open,”

“imagine if someone walked it, right now.” sunghoon gritted out, the tight grip of your hole making it difficult for him to keep his composure. you looked over to the closed door of the office as sunghoon leaned down to whisper against the shell of your ear. “they’d come in and see you, taking your professor’s big cock up your tight fucking cunt.”

you gasped at the words, choking out a moan as your hips jerked forward, the thought of someone seeing you get plowed into was more arousing than it should be, causing another harsh spike of arousal to rake straight through your body.

“and you take it so good,” sunghoon continued, moaning as you clenched down. “taking it like a good cockslut, isn’t that right?”

“no, no,” you protested weakly through a moan. “i’m not,” but you didn’t even sound convincing to yourself. you enjoyed how it sounded coming from sunghoon's mouth too much, loved even more how it made shame burn on your face.

“oh, but you are.” sunghoon insisted darkly. his hand found a way to your hair, and gripped harshly to lift your hips up from the desk. “you were made for it, angel. made just for me.”

he tilted your face towards him, locking your lips together in a searing kiss, messy and wet as you moaned against his tongue. the angle was a bit hard to work with, but that didn’t stop your desperate frenzy to claim each other’s mouths.

sunghoon let go of your hair and traced his fingers down your back until it rested back on your hip. he slowly pulled out, watching how you shivered as he just barely let the head of his cock past your hole. he slid his cock all the way back in, grunting as he buried himself flush against your hips.

you could feel every inch of sunghoon inside of you, stretching you wide open. you inhaled sharply, shuddering as your tight cunt struggled to fully accommodate to the thick, hard length. the sensation of being so completely filled was overwhelming–and tears slowly began to form in your eyes.

“please,” you sobbed out a moan, causing sunghoon to lean down and trail gentle kisses alongside your shoulder blades and neck.

“shh, it’s okay,” he cooed warmly, still slowly grinding forward in a way that made your legs tremble. “you’re doing so, so good baby. i know you can take more.”

he continued with his slow and deep movement, trying to let you adjust to him as much as possible. he moved back slightly, and you urged him to continue. sunghoon pulled out halfway, and pushed you right back down on his cock by your hips.

you whined out brokenly, eyes squeezing shut as sunghoon pushed inside your heat again. each push inside sent waves of pleasure through both of your bodies. soon sunghoon was building a faster pace with his hips that left you feeling dazed, and you reached back to hold one of sunghoon's hands that glued itself at your hips.

"harder," you slurred out, your voice raw with need. “fuck me harder.”

sunghoon responded with a deep groan, complying by pounding against your cunt with a wet, slapping sound.

you quickly grabbed onto the sides of the desk, trying to keep your balance as the wooden furniture creaked and moved against the hurried movements of your bodies.

sunghoon's grip on your hips was bruising. it kept a delicious burn on your skin, and you couldn’t help but think about the marks it’ll leave, how it’ll make you think of sunghoon's claim on your body every time you look in the mirror.

the thought only sparked more heat down to your cunt; spurring you on to arch your back and meet sunghoon back against each thrust.

your hips moved in a way that made sunghoon feel almost crazed. he found himself slowing his hips down, eyes trained on the way your hole sucked him in.

“yeah, that’s it.” sunghoon breathed, cock twitching as he brought a hand down against your ass. “show me you can work for it, baby. bring that ass back.”

you nodded mindlessly. you propped yourself on your elbows and quickly worked your ass back. you puffed out short gasps and groans as you pushed onto sunghoon's cock, trying to show him just how good you are–how good you can make him feel.

if only you knew that sunghoon didn’t need much convincing. he was so fucking turned on, unable to stop himself from pushing your ass apart with his hands and pulling out; watching your cunt gape and clench around his cock. he inhaled sharply, smacking down on your ass once more as he pushed back in.

"god, you’re irresistible.” sunghoon praised.

"professor, please.”

“say my name,” sunghoon suddenly demanded, with something else layered behind his tone. he threaded his fingers in your hair and yanked you back to lock your gazes together. “say my name.” he repeated, working his hips back up to the pace he had earlier.

you reached back and gripped onto sunghoon's hip, whining as you struggled to keep your eyes on him.

“sunghoon,” you breathed out, your voice unsteady as the air continued to get knocked out of your lungs. “sunghoon,”

sunghoon cursed, grip tightening on your hair, tugging your head back even further to kiss you roughly again. he pulled back, before leaning down to your exposed neck. he bit and sucked onto the soft skin; hips never slowing as your cries grew louder.

his cock slid in and out with loud and obscene squelches, further amplifying the pressure in your stomach that threatened to snap for the second time. your thighs quivered and you knew you wouldn’t last, so you reached back to hold sunghoon's hand.

“sunghoon, i’m gonna cum, fuck, please,”

sunghoon moaned loudly, moving his hands from your hair to grip on your hips, focusing his brutal thrusts where you like the most.

you immediately tensed up, mouth parted in a silent moan as your eyes rolled back, and your second orgasm ripped right through your body.

"there it is," sunghoon panted out, voice filled with pride. he lifted one of your legs and set his foot on the desk, changing the angle as he sank right back into you to chase his own climax. “there’s a good fucking girl.”

and you felt the hot, hard length of his cock press into your entrance again, making a sound from the back of your throat that didn’t even sound like you. you gripped onto the sides of the desk, and cried out through broken moans.

you were so sensitive, but you became obsessed with the feeling of being used even when your body felt like it couldn’t take anymore. your spent cunt twitched in further interest, but you could only babble through the overstimulation, your body burning and twitching like a live wire.

your hole kept convulsing, which sent sunghoon right over the edge. with a breathless groan, sunghoon's hips stilled, and his cock pulsed as he filled your cunt with cum.

you moaned at the feeling of sunghoon's cock throbbing inside you. the sensation alone sent more aftershocks of pleasure through your body. as sunghoon rode out the rest of his orgasm, your legs gave out from under you and you fell limp against the desk, your breathing ragged. your cheek was pressed against the wood, eyes closed as you soaked in the feeling of sunghoon's cock and cum buried deep within you.

sunghoon leaned down and pressed his chest against the your back. he slid one of his hands down, coming to rest on your ass. he gave it a firm squeeze, his fingers digging into the flesh. "good girl," sunghoon murmured, the words rewarding him with a tired giggle from the you.

for a moment, you both stayed in that position, your bodies stuck together with sweat and your hearts racing.

once you both caught your breaths, sunghoon slowly leaned back up and slipped his cock from your puffy cunt with a wet popping sound. cum leaked out, and despite being thoroughly exhausted, sunghoon had to stop himself from wanting to eat you out again.

he grabbed some wet wipes he had in one of his drawers and gently cleaned you up. you both were quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. you were basking in your afterglow and the comforting presence of one another.

you started pulling your panties and jeans back up as sunghoon cleaned himself too. once you were both dressed, you locked eyes and smiled. sunghoon leaned forward and kissed you.

your kiss was gentle now, unlike the first time. there was no rush, no desperation but still desire and affection. sunghoon pulled you closer, and you melted into the embrace. neither of you knew what you were doing, but what you did know is that you would most likely figure it out together.

475 notes · View notes

saailorgoon · 3 days ago

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what is Enhypen even about 💔

#enhypen #enha #lee heeseung #sim jaeyun #jake sim #jay enhypen #park jongseong #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #ni ki #enha x reader #kpop #enhypen imagines

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vampjaeyun · 3 days ago

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PARK JONGSEONG FIC REC LIST

s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst | suggestive is noted | *dark content warning: noncon, horror, yandere, dark themes, etc...

word count lowers as you go down the list (lots of long fics in this one… )

walk the line [ lawyer au ] s

vamp radio [ spider-man/symbiote stalker!jay x fem!reader, *dark content ] s

keep it between us [ bffs ex-boyfriend!jay x fem!reader ] s,f,a

hometown, part two [ small town au, exes to lovers ] s,f,a

the hates everyone except you trope [ badboy!jay x good girl!reader ] s,f,a

to the boy; who was my rival [ rival!jay, university au ] s,f,a

all i see is gold [ millionaire ceo's son!jay x scholarship part-time job!reader, fake dating au ] s,f,a

stuck with me [ zombie apocalypse au, enemies to lovers ] s

babysitter [ chaebol father!jay x younger bratty!reader ] s

nights like this [ stoner+plug!jay x semi-stoner fem!reader ] s

kiss me [ the purge au, *dark content ] s

I don't like your girlfriend, part two [ popular guitarist!jay x fem!reader, university au ] f,a

just like heaven [ brother's friend!jay, 80's au, childhood friends to lovers ] f

my kink is karma [ ex-bestfriend's first love!jay x fem!reader, strangers to lovers ] s,f,a

the marriage law [ forced marriage au, harry potter au, enemies to lovers ] s,f,a

milf hunt! [ college pool boy!jay x milf trope/single mother!reader ] s

souvenir [ dads best friend!jay x fem!reader ] s,f,a

no limits: park jongseong [ uncle!jay , strangers to lovers ] s

unscripted chemistry [ crush bestfriend!jay x fem!reader, high school au ] s,f,a

i always think about you [ rich!jay, best friends to lovers ] f,a

homes not home [ bestfriend!jay x fem!reader, ft. crush!sunghoon ] s

touch me, feel me [ ceo!jay x model fem!readr ] s,f

notoriously yours [ childhood best friends au, fake dating au, college au ] f,a

my boyfriend's in a band [ cold guitarist!jay, strangers to lovers, fake dating ] s,f,a

dad and dollars [ dad!jay x money struggling fem!reader ] s

opposites [ ceo!jay x fem!reader ] s,f,a

sticky [ boxer!jay x fem!reader x boxer!jake , boys next door au ] s

still into you [ doctor!jay, childhood friends to lovers ] suggestive, f

book smart? p*ssy smart [ inexperienced loser!jay x open minded and playful!reader ] s

music to my ears [ music producer!jay, established relationship ] s

please be real [ ex!jay x fem!reader ] s,a

backseat [ brothers best friend!jay x bratty!reader ] s

naturally [ chef!jay x fem!reader, established relationship ] s,f

pushing my buttons [ bodyguard!jay x rich ceo's daughter!reader ]

the night we met [ undergroundfighter!jay, strangers to lovers ] s

biggie in the city lights [ ceo husband!jay x corporate worker fem!reader ] s

tastes like danger [ black spiderman!jay x fem!reader ] s,a

hard cash, easy money [ rich!jay x stripper!reader ] s

N/A [ step-brother!jay x fem!reader ] s

strip club [ virgin!jay x stripper!reader ] s

bite me 'til it hurts [ vampire!jay x newborn vampire!reader ] s

last friday night [ enemies but secretly in love and oblivious au ] f

pretty little baby [ attentive boyfriend!jay ] s,f

just this once [ established relationship, third anniversary au ] s

over me [ boyfriend!jay, movie night au, dry-humping ] s

all yours [ you help jay feel better after a fight au, established relationship ] s,f

please me [ idol!jay x idol member fem!reader ] s

unspoken things [ rich single dad!jay x college student!reader ]

comfortable [ boyfriend!jay x fem!reader ] s

needy for jay [ bf!jay x shy!reader, ovulation week au ] s

wife material [ arranged marriage, innocent + pornstar body!reader ] s

N/A [ pervert bestie!jay ] s

sleepover [ bestfriend!jay, sleepover au ] s

drippin' for discipline [ post gym session bf!jay ] s

so romantic [ husband!jay ] f

N/A [ brother's best friend!jay x fem!reader ] s

just a few kisses [ affectionate drunk!jay, established relationship ] suggestive, fluff

take the risk [ established relationship, parent's home au ] s

stop moving [ thigh riding, dry humping ] s

954 notes · View notes

hrt2chuu · 5 days ago

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀EYES ON ME ✶ THEM SHOWING OFF

⠀IN WHICH 𓈒 𓈒 the rich uni heartthrob is down-bad for you.

⠀⠀• 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊 𓋰 rich heartthrob!enhypen x f!rea⠀ ✶⠀fluff kissing reader && member both like e/o petnames+ wc? 880%

NOA: this is for/dedicated to my one and only bella !! if you see this bella i decided i wanted to write ot7 headcanons for you >< @cielinas

LEE HEESEUNG

you’re casually talking with some of your friends at the quad when heeseung pulls up in his sleek maserati.

“need a ride, pretty?” he calls out to you, ignoring the stares that were aimed his way.

you hum and tease, “i’m fine, thank you.” he doesn’t stop from there. he hops out, jogging over to you and slipping his arm around your shoulders.

“well, for your information, today is actually no is yes day, so you just said yes.” heeseung says, opening the passenger door for you.

you scoff playfully yet you step inside and sit down. “it’s not— but whatever you say.”

he gets inside and buckles your seatbelt for you just when you were reaching for it. “princesses don’t get to do that.” heeseung says, smirking at you as his hand purposefully lingers on your knee.

“you’re such a flir—” cut off by his lips. it was desperate and needy. “no complaining.” he mumurs against your lips, hand on your jaw.

when he pulled away, everyone watching started applauding like it was some sort of standing ovation.

PARK JONGSEONG

jay found you after class, dressed way too perfectly for a normal day.

“you wore that just to make me stare at you, didn’t you?” you ask, letting out a dramatic sigh.

he leans in, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “if staring means you’ll notice me and be mine, then absolutely yes.”

you swat his arm but he just grins, lowering his voice. “the whole campus is watching us right now, might as well let them know we’re becoming official.”

before you can get a single word out, he kisses you on the lips. it was fast, but made a point clear. you weren’t single.

“jay!” you exclaim.

“yes, baby?

SIM JAEYUN

jake spots you near the library, balancing way too many books. he practically sprints to help you out.

“jake, i could’ve done that myse—”

he scoffs. “no. a sweet girl like you shouldn’t be weighing too much on herself.”

then, jake winks, purposefully brushing his shoulder against yours as he walks beside you.

you roll your eyes, grateful but shy. “you’re ridiculous.” he hums and replies casually, “ridiculously in love, yeah.”

then, he takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. your heart races fast as he doesn’t let go and instead, holds your hand.

a couple of students giggled and squealed at the scene. “you could’ve done that when we were alone.” you whisper, clearly embarrassed.

“why? don’t like the audience?” jake asks, before bringing your hand up his lips again.

PARK SUNGHOON

at the café on campus, sunghoon slides into the seat beside you instead of in front.

“won’t people get suspicious and stare if the ice prince sits this close?” you tease.

“let them stare.” his tone is cool, almost normal. but under the table, his hand covers yours.

sunghoon’s thumb strokes gently and your breath hitches. “you really don’t care?”

he looks straight into your eyes and leans in close. “the only person— or even thing i care about is you.”

before you could protest, he presses a kiss to your lips, one hand on your jaw. sunghoon tries to coax your mouth open but he sees the shocked look on your face.

he slowly pulls away and you huff. “great. now we’re going to make it on the campus news.”

“good.” he replies smugly. “let them know you’re taken.”

KIM SEONWOO

sunoo appears at your dorm with a bouquet of roses. he was beaming even before you opened the door.

“another one?” you ask, giggling. he pouts and takes a step closer. “am i spoiling you too much?”

you glance back to your dorm which was covered completely in flowers. “maybe,” you say, smiling cheekily as you turn your head back to him.

“good, because you deserve it.” then, he kissed you on the lips, backing you into your dorm.

you end up on the couch and you finally pull away after a minute. “sunoo..” you whisper.

YANG JUNGWON

during a study session, jungwon drapes his arm around you casually. “comfortable?” he asks, his breath fanning over your neck.

you try to focus on the damn question, glaring at him. “how am i suppose to concentrate when you’re like this?”

“so it is working.” he says, resting his chin on his palm. you shove him away but he catches your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

you could feel yourself turning red as he strokes circles on your palm. being too busy staring at your interlocked hands, he uses this to grab your chin and kiss you.

“always so distracted, baby..” jungwon murmurs.

NISHIMURA RIKI

you’re walking to class when riki appears in his oversized denim tears sweater he practically lives in. he skipped his lecture just to wait for you.

“you shouldn’t be here, ‘ki,” you scold. “but then who’d carry your bag?” he says, snatching it playfully.

you pout slightly, trying to grab it back, but he holds it out of your reach. then, he slings an arm around your waist. “relax, doll. i just like showing off.”

“i cannot with yo—” mwah. a quick kiss to your lips to shut you up. you push him away only to be pulled in for another kiss.

you sigh, surrendering to his relentless kisses. “you never learn from the first time, do you?” he asks. then, he slides a ring onto your ring finger.

©overmura 250902

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rikirush · 1 day ago

Note

freaky ahh anon here, was the blueberry lemon cake good? I DONT KNOW IF ITS JUST ME BUT I NEEEEEEEEEEEED AND CRAAAAAAAAAAVE YEARNING AND DESPERATE ENHA who are so pussy drunk they are on the verge of crying when they pull out

oh my god, the blueberry lemon cake was from so long ago and it was banger. my skills have evolved, i make cheesecake now.. it was even better. thank you for the request freaky ahh anon, please enjoy

—

𐙚 ENHYPEN pull out

Jungwon

Jungwon liked to be in charge. You flipped the script. Riding him hard and fast, you took what you wanted, using his cock. He was wrecked beneath you—hair plastered to his forehead, neck arched back, baring his throat as he gasped your name over and over again. Forcing him to pull out shattered him.

A ragged sob escaped him as he lurched forward, spilling hot and thick across your thighs and the sheets beneath. His cock jumped in his own trembling hand as he tried to coax the last drops out, his other arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Tears pricked his eyes; he looked utterly ruined and impossibly turned on. "Please...let me...just one more...can't think..."

Heeseung

You’d edged Heeseung for an hour, making him beg to come. When he finally got inside you, it was frantic. Short, sharp thrusts that punched the breath from both of you. The sounds were obscene. When you squeezed him hard, he shattered. Pulling out felt like tearing his own skin off.

He choked on a sob, his entire body trembling violently as he rutted helplessly against your hip instead, his cock jerking and pulsing hot come onto your skin while he hid his face in your neck, muffled cries escaping against your skin. His fingers clutched at your shoulders like a drowning man. "Too much...can't...feel everything...please..."

Jay

Jay prided himself on control. This time, he lost it completely. Riding him slow, you watched his composure unravel. Sweat covering his chest, his lips bitten red. The moment your walls fluttered around him just right, he gasped your name. Pulling out was pure agony.

A broken groan tore from him as he barely managed to stroke himself off over your stomach, his cock impossibly hard and leaking even as he came. His eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched tight against the overwhelming sensation, a sheen of frustrated tears making his lashes wet. "Shit...fuck...still so hard...need more..." he rasped, hips still twitching forward uselessly.

Jake

Jake had been gone for a week. The second the door clicked shut, he was on you. Fast, hungry strokes buried him deep inside your wet heat. He fucked you against the wall like he was dying for it, gasping your name, eyes glazed over.

When he finally had to pull out to come, his hips stuttered wildly. He whined high in his throat, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise, trying desperately to shove back in one last time as his cock twitched violently against your thigh, spilling thick ropes while he panted like he’d run a marathon. A tear escaped, tracing a path through the sweat on his temple. "Fuck, fuck...missed this...missed you...so tight..."

Sunghoon

Sunghoon had been on a strict schedule—no release. Two weeks of tension coiled in his frame. The first thrust into your welcoming heat had him whimpering. He moved fast, deep, completely lost in the feeling of your cunt gripping him. When he had to pull out to finish, it felt like failure.

He made a wounded sound, desperate, pressing his forehead hard against yours. His cock strained against your lower belly, pulsing fiercely as thick spurts of come striped your skin. His breath hitched with suppressed tears, voice thick with disbelief and need. "Can't...can't stop...still...fuck...need to be back inside...now..."

Sunoo

Sunoo loved taking his time, savoring you. But tonight, you were too much—too wet, too tight, too responsive. His usual gentle rhythm dissolved into needy little thrusts, his face flushed crimson, lips parted on shaky breaths. Asking him to pull out felt cruel. His eyes flew open wide, glistening with unshed tears of pure frustration.

He let out a soft, broken cry as he slid free, immediately fisting his leaking cock desperately over your pussy. His body shuddered violently with each pulse of come that landed hot on your skin, his whimpers muffled against your collarbone. "No...not yet...wanted to stay...feel so good...empty..." he whispered hoarsely.

Ni-ki

Niki was buried deep inside you, hips snapping in a relentless rhythm that left you both breathless, he finally hit his peak. Telling him to pull out made him freeze mid-thrust with a sharp inhale. A low groan ripped from his chest as he reluctantly dragged himself out, his thick cock gleaming wetly in the low light.

The second he was free, it pulsed violently in his fist, painting your hip and stomach with thick ropes while he trembled from head to toe. He buried his face in the pillow beside you, a muffled cry escaping—half-pleasure, half-frustration—his voice cracking. "Too fast...wanted to stay...feels too good...fuck..." Hips jerked forward pathetically against the mattress even after he'd finished.

459 notes · View notes

heejamas · 2 months ago

Text

HOW I MET SUNGHOON

→ pairing: downbad!sunghoon x fem!reader // ִromcom· friends to lovers · slow burn · smut ࣪· crack → synopsis: sunghoon was always the kind of guy who fell too hard, too fast, the type who thought a shared playlist meant commitment and that liking the same sandwich was fate. spoiler: it never worked out. well, that’s until you showed up. he didn’t mean to fall for you. you were just his friend. the funny, smart, annoyingly pretty friend. it wasn’t supposed to turn into heart flutters and late-night guitar practice. but somewhere between friendly teasing, shared drinks, and the world’s longest friendzone, sunghoon realized he might actually be in love. oops! → word count: 28k // warnings: mdni!! contains explicit content, praising kink, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, switch dynamics, dirty talk / explicit language, face riding

sunghoon was always that type of hopeless romantic guy. not in a write a poem under the rain kind of way, but he used to believe in signs: like if a girl knew all the words to a blink-182 song, she was definitely his soulmate. one time in college, he thought a cashier was in love with him because she gave him an extra ketchup packet. another time, he made a mixtape for a girl he barely knew just because she said she liked the strokes. he even labeled it “volume 1,” fully expecting a relationship to follow. it didn’t.

he was that guy who said “i miss you” before it made sense and thought hand-holding in public was sacred. the guy who overanalyzed text punctuation. the guy who once bought matching mugs after a fourth date because she laughed at his seinfeld reference. spoiler alert: she ghosted him the next day, and he kept the mugs anyway. because love, right? yeah, that’s it. that was sunghoon.

well, until he met you.

but, before he met you, sunghoon was stuck in that loop of almosts and maybes and "it’s not you, it’s me" texts sent at 2 a.m. he had a tendency to turn background characters into main characters in his head. if someone asked for directions on the subway, he’d spend the next hour wondering if he should’ve asked for her number. maybe she liked coffee shops. maybe they could’ve gone to the one on 8th street. maybe they would’ve fallen in love over cappuccinos and sarcasm. maybe he ruined it.

he was, in short, delusional in the most innocent way. and weirdly proud of it, like it was his thing. like being a hopeless romantic was just part of the package, along with his obsession with vintage sneakers, his habit of alphabetizing his dvds, pokémon go and his belief that fate always showed up fashionably late.

he had no idea that the reason would be you.

sunghoon and jay had been living together for a little over a year now. the apartment wasn’t big, and it definitely wasn’t quiet (mostly because it sat right above a bar that played the same six songs on loop every night) but it had decent water pressure, a couch that technically belonged to jungwon, and a fridge that made an odd noise every time someone closed the bathroom door. but they made it work. jay was the cleaner one, sunghoon was the one who always left his hoodie on the kitchen chair, and somehow they found a balance.

they didn’t talk about feelings much, not directly. but every now and then, usually when one of them was eating something straight from the bag or halfway through a bad tv rerun, the topic would come up. on this particular night, sunghoon was lying on the couch with his legs stretched out and one hand buried in an open bag of cereal. he hadn’t even bothered with milk. the tv was on, volume too low to follow, but he wasn’t really paying attention anyway.

“i think i’m gonna die alone,” he said, like he was talking about the weather.

jay, sitting on the floor next to the coffee table with his laptop open, didn’t look up. “what happened now?”

“nothing happened. that’s the problem. i haven’t been on a date in, like, four months. maybe five.”

jay looked at him, unimpressed. “you say that like it’s a medical emergency.”

“it kind of is,” sunghoon said, sitting up just enough to gesture with the cereal bag.

jay snorted. “what happened to that girl from the climbing gym? the one who asked for your number after you slipped off the wall?”

sunghoon stared at the ceiling. “we went out once. she spent the entire time telling me about her ex who lives in canada and how he doesn’t believe in monogamy but they’re spiritually married anyway.”

jay blinked. “okay. next. what about the girl from the bookstore?” jay added, trying again.

“oh, right,” sunghoon said, already regretting the memory. “we had a good first date. coffee, conversation, the whole thing. second date, she brought her roommate. didn’t warn me or anything.”

“why?”

“she said she wanted a second opinion on me.”

jay closed his laptop. “man.”

“i know.” there was a short pause. sunghoon leaned his head back against the couch and let out a slow breath through his nose. he wasn’t trying to be dramatic, he was just tired of the effort it took to get halfway close to something that never turned out to be anything at all. “maybe i peaked romantically at seventeen,” he muttered.

“no one peaks at seventeen,” jay said.

“you did.”

“that’s different,” jay shrugged. “i’m hot.”

jay had been in a relationship for years, since he was 17. like proper long-term, holiday-travel-planning, toothbrush-in-the-bathroom relationship. it was steady, and sunghoon respected that, even if sometimes it made his own track record feel like a string of blurry first dates and weird storytimes.

sunghoon shifted on the couch, grabbing another handful of cereal from the open bag on his lap. “you know what’s sad? the only consistent interaction i’ve had with a woman lately is with some random pokémon go user who keeps stealing the gym at the end of our street.”

jay glanced over, already amused. “what?”

“i’ve been holding it down for team valor since, like, last year. and every night—every single night—this person comes and knocks me out. same user. snoopygirl_98. blue team, obviously. i think she hates me.”

jay raised an eyebrow. “maybe she’s flirting.”

“by humiliating me in front of a 7-eleven?”

“some people flirt differently.”

sunghoon let out a tired sigh, leaning back against the couch. “i just want to feel something again.”

jay reached for the remote. “you wanna go downstairs later? to the bar? maybe someone down there has a thing for emotionally exhausted guys.”

“you think it’s my moment?”

“statistically, you’re due.”

sunghoon didn’t answer right away. he didn’t believe in statistics, he believed in luck. and that night, for the first time in a while, he was about to have some. because you were downstairs.

sunghoon went to the bar with jay mostly out of stubbornness. he said he didn’t feel like going, said it was a weeknight, said the chances of anything interesting happening were basically zero, but still changed out of his old hoodie and put on one that didn’t smell like takeout. the bar was familiar, and warm in the way places start to feel when you’ve been going for long enough that the guy behind the counter knows your usual.

they found jake by the pool table, already halfway through his drink. he turned before they even said anything and grinned like he’d been expecting them. sunghoon gave jay a look and followed them toward one of the tables near the back, where a few other familiar faces from college were already sitting, people they didn’t see that often anymore but still shared enough history with to make small talk easy.

and that’s when he saw you.

you were sitting to the left of jake, stirring your drink with a straw and laughing at something someone had just said. it wasn’t loud or dramatic or exaggerated, but it caught his attention anyway. there was something about how comfortable you looked at the table, how you weren’t trying too hard to be part of the conversation and still somehow felt like the center of it.

he stopped walking for half a second before jay gave him a light push on the shoulder to keep moving. jake started introducing people in his usual scattered way, pointing quickly and not really giving anyone time to react. “this is y/n—she’s a friend from my econ class back in the day—and this is sunghoon, he used to live with me first year. you two haven’t met, right?”

sunghoon nodded once and said a quick “hey,” followed by a smile that he hoped looked normal. you replied with a polite “hey” back, and that was it. a few seconds, not much, but enough for him to realize he was already too aware of how close you were sitting to jake, how often you looked at him when you laughed, how your hand moved when you adjusted your glass.

he sat across the table next to jay, didn’t say much for a while. mostly listened, nodded, laughed when it made sense. but every few minutes his eyes would flick back to you, casually, like he wasn’t really paying attention, even though he absolutely was. there was something about you that made him feel quieter than usual. not nervous, but just unsure of what to do with himself.

about fifteen minutes later, heeseung showed up. he walked in already smiling, already halfway into the group and he greeted you with a hug (longer than a casual one) and slid into the seat next to you without asking. you two started talking right away, and it didn’t look like small talk. sunghoon watched for a few seconds longer than he meant to, then looked away and focused on his drink. he didn’t know your story, maybe you and heeseung were just close, maybe it was something else. he wasn’t going to ask, of course. but he was already wondering if he’d missed his window.

the next few days after that night were... something else. jay didn’t let it go. at least twice a day, he’d throw a casual question over from the other room or while making coffee, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “so, you liked her, didn’t you?”

and sunghoon would roll his eyes and try to sound way too cool for someone who’d clearly been thinking about you more than he wanted to admit. “what, no. she seemed nice. and i mean, she’s cute. i have eyes, i am aware.”

but jay wasn’t buying it. he pushed harder, always the annoying friend who actually cares. “okay, but did you ask jake for her number yet?” sunghoon tried to laugh it off, but the answer was always no.

“i didn’t. she’s way too pretty for me to just go asking like it’s no big deal. and besides, from what i saw, she’s definitely not single. heeseung was all over her, talking like they had some history or something.”

sunghoon tried to convince jay (and himself) that he wasn’t jealous, just realistic. he reminded himself he wasn’t some guy who just jumped into things blindly, especially not when the other guy was heeseung, who’d been friends with them both for years. so instead of asking for her number, he did what he does best: replayed the whole night in his head. every laugh you gave, every way you leaned in when heeseung was talking, the little things he couldn’t quite figure out.

he thought about how quiet he’d been, how stupid he probably looked trying to play it cool when all he wanted was to ask you questions about everything. but most of all, he wondered if there’d ever be a moment where he could just be the guy sitting next to you, not some awkward stranger watching from across the table.

sunghoon was in one of those moods where it felt like nothing ever went his way. you know, the kind of streak where every little thing seemed to slip through his fingers. dates that fizzled out before they even got started, conversations that ended awkwardly, moments that should’ve felt right but somehow didn’t. by the time he met you, he was almost done with all the usual nonsense. he wasn’t expecting fireworks or some perfect romcom scene. he was just trying not to mess things up this time. so when you showed up, he kept his guard up, quiet, careful not to get too invested too fast. he told himself he was being smart, protecting himself from another round of whatever it was that had been happening before.

so on the next week, sunghoon found himself at jake’s place again for another gathering, the kind that felt like a regular thing now even though he was still figuring out what he actually wanted from all this. when he walked in, the first thing that caught his eye was you, sitting in the corner with a group of friends. he tried to act casual as he made his way over, but inside, every step felt like a careful calculation.

his mind raced through possible ways to start the conversation without sounding awkward or, worse, desperate. “don’t mess this up,” he told himself quietly, repeating it like a mantra as he got closer. when he finally reached you, he caught a glimpse of your t-shirt, a band he knew well, mcfly. it was kind of a guilty pleasure for him. back in high school, he’d picked up their songs mostly because a lot of girls liked them, and it had been his secret move to catch their attention. but somewhere along the way, he realized he actually liked the music, even if he’d never admit it out loud. it was one of those small things, but for sunghoon, it was like a secret handshake, a sign that maybe you two weren’t completely from different planets.

he cleared his throat and said, “hey, nice shirt. didn’t expect to see someone else wearing mcfly around here.”

you glanced up, a bit surprised, then smiled. “yeah, i guess it’s not super common these days.”

sunghoon nodded, trying to sound casual but feeling a bit weird admitting it. “i mean, i used to listen to them all the time back in high school. don’t tell anyone, but tom’s songwriting always stuck with me.”

you raised your eyebrows, clearly surprised. “wait, really? you actually like mcfly?”

he laughed quietly, running a hand through his hair. “yeah, i picked up their songs ‘cause a lot of girls were into them, but then i kind of got hooked. it’s like... guilty pleasure, but also genuine.”

you smirked, “guilty pleasure is the best kind, honestly.”

sunghoon felt a little relieved she wasn’t making fun of him. “exactly.”

you both laughed softly, and for a moment, sunghoon forgot to overthink everything. it was just two people, talking about a band, and somehow that felt a lot easier than he expected. sunghoon found himself just wanting to listen to you talk. the way you casually shared stories about concerts and favorite songs felt different from the usual small talk he was used to. it wasn’t like he was trying to impress you or be someone he wasn’t, it was just two people connecting over something simple.

he tried to keep the conversation going, so he asked, “so, do you come to these hangouts often, or is this just a one-time thing?”

you smiled again, “pretty often. it’s nice to see familiar faces and meet new ones.”

sunghoon nodded, feeling a warmth in his chest that wasn’t just from the beer he’d had earlier. inside, he was thinking, yeah, it’s nice to meet you too. but he kept that to himself. for now, he was happy just being there, talking, and maybe, just maybe, hoping there would be more moments like this.

the conversation flowed better than he expected. you talked about concerts you’d been to, favorite songs, weird stories about how you got into the band. sunghoon was surprised at how easy it was to laugh and just be yourself around you. but then, as the night went on, he realized the familiar sinking feeling, the one that hit every time before: the friendzone. you were funny, smart, and clearly someone he wanted to be more than friends with, but the way you joked and leaned into the group, it was clear you saw him like the guy who always had a good playlist, not the one who was secretly hoping for more.

and after that night, things started to slip into something that sunghoon didn’t quite expect. you two began to follow each other on social media. just the usual likes and comments that somehow made his day a little better whenever his phone buzzed. at first, he told himself it was just casual. friends catching up, sharing bits of their lives.

but slowly, he realized it wasn’t so casual anymore. he found himself scrolling through your photos longer than he meant to, replaying your messages in his head, wondering what your smile looked like when you weren’t looking. jay noticed too, because sunghoon was not subtle about it at all. every few days, he’d throw the question at sunghoon like it was some kind of game. “so, are you into her?”

and every time, sunghoon would laugh it off. “nah, man, just friends. nothing like that.”

but inside, he was tangled up in a mess of what ifs and maybe-nots. he told himself he was fine just being friends, that getting too close wasn’t worth the risk. he was tired of things going sideways, of hoping for something that never quite stuck. but the more he tried to convince himself, the harder it became to ignore the way his chest tightened when you popped up on his screen or the way his mind wandered to what it’d be like if things actually went right.

he wasn’t ready to say it out loud, not yet. but the truth was, he was falling, probably faster than he wanted to admit. and every time jay asked, he’d just smile and shake his head, pretending he didn’t feel a thing. pretending was easier, at least for now.

it was a saturday afternoon, and sunghoon had been outside for a solid twenty minutes trying (once again) to reclaim the gym down the street. it had become a bit of an obsession at that point. snoopygirl_98 had taken it over again, and this time, she’d stacked it with an annoyingly strong blissey that just wouldn’t budge. he was pacing in front of the bakery on the corner, furiously tapping his screen, muttering under his breath like it was personal. because, honestly, it kinda was. whoever snoopygirl_98 was, she had been tormenting his team valor pride for weeks, and he was convinced she was doing it on purpose now.

right as he was about to give up and switch to a different gym, a notification popped up on his screen, not from the game, but a message. from you.

[y/n:] hey hoon!! are you busy?

his thumb hovered over the screen for a second, stomach doing that little flip it always did when your name showed up. he stared at it, then at the game, then back at the message. screw the gym.

[sunghoon:] Not really, what’s up?

the reply came fast, like you’d already had it typed and ready to send.

[y/n:] i’m at the mart near your place and i got way too many bags… like an embarrassing amount… and i couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. would you be a hero and help me carry these to my building? 🥺

sunghoon blinked at the screen. and then again. and then stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, processing what just happened. you couldn’t think of anyone else to ask. now, logically, he knew that meant nothing. you were friends, this was a friend thing. helping someone carry groceries was classic friend behavior. textbook friendzone. but still, his chest did a weird fluttery thing, and he could already hear jay’s voice in his head saying something smug like, “not into her, huh?”

he texted back:

[sunghoon:] On my way! Don’t move. Be there in five

he slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and took off in the direction of the store, telling himself it wasn’t a big deal. it’s just a nice thing to do. good karma. neighbors helping neighbors, nothing more. but deep down, as he walked a little too fast and adjusted his hair in the reflection of a parked car, sunghoon knew exactly what he was doing. and he knew exactly why he was doing it.

because, yeah, maybe he was in the friendzone. but he was in the friendzone with you. and that still felt a lot better than being anywhere else.

when he got to the store, there you were, standing on the curb with three overstuffed tote bags and two plastic ones hanging from your wrists, trying to balance them without toppling over. you looked up, caught sight of him, and smiled like it was the most natural thing in the world to call sunghoon out of the blue and make him carry your groceries like some kind of personal delivery boy. and the worst part is that he didn’t even mind.

“you weren’t kidding,” he said, eyeing the bags as he took most of them from you without hesitation.

“i was being modest,” you replied, a little out of breath. “there were two more bags but the guy at the checkout told me to stop.”

“glad someone had the courage to say it,” he joked, and you nudged him with your elbow as the two of you started walking.

at first, it was all easy conversation, nothing new there. you talked about how the store rearranged the snack aisle again, how you couldn’t find your favorite granola, and how the cashier gave you a coupon for cat food even though you didn’t have a cat. he listened, laughed in all the right places, and added his own running commentary. it was the kind of rhythm you two had settled into without ever really trying.

but somewhere between the store and your apartment building, as he adjusted the bags in his arms and looked at you rambling about frozen waffles, something quietly clicked in his chest. he didn’t know when it had started, maybe back at the bar, maybe during some other moment he didn’t register properly, but it was there now, and it was loud.

he liked you.

like, actually liked you. not the fake-crush-you-get-on-a-friend thing. not the maybe i’m just lonely thing. a real, actual crush that made his hands sweat and his thoughts spiral and his pulse skip a little every time you looked at him too long. and he had been telling himself it wasn’t that, because it was easier and because it was safer. but yeah, it was that.

you held the door to your building open with your hip and motioned for him to follow you. “don’t judge the mess,” you said casually.

sunghoon didn’t say anything, just smiled, still mildly stunned by the realization swirling in his head. when you opened the door to your apartment and he stepped inside, it was like stepping into a personality, your personality. there were string lights that didn’t match but somehow made sense together. mugs with little quotes on them. a record player in the corner next to a stack of vinyls that included both taylor swift and metallica. polaroids on the fridge. a half-finished puzzle on the coffee table. a plant that was definitely dying but still hanging in there. it was so you, in every way.

and sunghoon stood there holding your bags, pretending he wasn’t staring.

“you can drop them by the kitchen,” you said, already pulling off your coat and tossing it on the couch.

he did, and then paused, glancing around again. “your place is…” he trailed off, not sure how to say weirdly perfect without sounding creepy.

you looked over your shoulder. “chaotic?”

“adorable,” he said, before he could stop himself.

you raised an eyebrow, amused. “really?”

“uh. i mean, yeah. in a—like—it’s very you.”

he wanted to slap himself. but you just smiled again and started unpacking your bags like it wasn’t a big deal.

and over the next few weeks, things kind of continued. sunghoon found himself falling into this strange rhythm with you. not in a we’re clearly falling for each other kind of way, but in a i’m clearly in love and you keep sending me memes at 2am like that means nothing kind of way. and he didn’t even know how it happened. it was like one minute he was helping you carry groceries and the next he was learning your coffee order, your go-to karaoke song, and the name of the stuffed penguin you’d had since you were six. so the friendzone? yeah, it was thriving. stable. deeply rooted in reality.

“she called me dude today,” sunghoon said one night, flopping onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.

jay didn’t look up from his phone. “right. and?”

“no, but, like. she said it in the friendly way. like a bro way. like a ‘dude, you have to see this video of a cat falling off a table’ kind of way.”

jay glanced over. “so… you’re mad she’s comfortable with you?” sunghoon tossed a pillow at him but couldn’t deny the accuracy.

he was at that stage where he’d memorized your laugh patterns, saved photos from your story by accident, and started recognizing songs from your spotify playlists. he’d accidentally started saying some of your catchphrases. he was, in short, doomed.

you, meanwhile, were obliviously warm and kind and effortlessly funny, the kind of funny that didn’t try too hard, which made it worse. you’d text him stuff like “is this a normal dinner?” with a photo of cereal and pickles, and sunghoon would still stare at his phone for ten minutes smiling like a loser. he hated it. no, he loved it. no, actually, he hated that he loved it.

once, you called him at midnight just to ask if frogs had teeth (they do, sort of), and he answered like that was a perfectly normal thing for a person to do. it was around then that jay gave up even pretending to be surprised.

“just tell her you like her,” he said, halfway through a bowl of cereal.

sunghoon groaned. “i’d rather eat glass.”

“then stop looking at your phone like it’s a shrine.”

“i’m not.”

“you’re literally on her instagram zooming in on her bookshelf.”

“she has good taste in books, jay.”

“sure. tell the bookshelf how you feel.”

sunghoon ignored him, of course. he was committed to the bit now. committed to being your very helpful, very available, very emotionally tortured friend. it was pathetic, but it was also the best he’d felt in months.

jungwon’s birthday was on a saturday, and somehow the group decided that the best way to celebrate turning twenty-something was to put on rented shoes and throw heavy balls down a lane under disco lights. sunghoon hadn’t been to a bowling alley in years, but he wasn’t about to admit that. especially not when you showed up in jeans, a ponytail, and a hyper-specific competitiveness in your eyes that made him slightly nervous.

“you any good?” you asked, grabbing a bowling ball way too confidently.

sunghoon shrugged like it was nothing. “decent.”

“hm. cocky.”

“you scared?”

you raised an eyebrow. “you wish.”

and that was it: challenge accepted. sunghoon spent the next hour entirely too focused on beating you, despite the fact that it was literally jungwon’s birthday and he had no reason to be acting like it was the bowling olympics. but there was something about the way you teased him every time he got a spare, or the smug way you celebrated your strikes like you’d just ended world hunger, that gave him this ridiculous flutter in his chest he didn’t know what to do with.

you stuck your tongue out at him after your third strike in a row. “might wanna switch to the kiddie lane.”

“i’m just letting you win,” he said, deadpan.

“oh? how generous.”

he rolled his eyes, grinning despite himself. he hated how easy it was to like you. he hated how every little joke made him want to high-five his past self for deciding to help carry your groceries that one time. he also hated how that warm, stupid feeling in his chest immediately froze when he saw heeseung walk in.

you spotted heeseung almost instantly and lit up in that way people only do when they see someone they’re extremely fond of. you waved, borderline giddy, and rushed over to hug him like you hadn’t seen him in years, even though sunghoon was pretty sure you’d just posted a story with him the weekend before.

sunghoon watched from the far side of the seating area, trying to act normal. casual. unbothered. he adjusted his grip on his bowling ball even though he wasn’t playing that round and stared at the score screen like it had personally offended him. right. heeseung. the heeseung. the possible thing that he kept forgetting might exist. because you didn’t really talk about it. maybe there was nothing, since you have never mentioned it. and that only made it worse, because it left sunghoon’s brain wide open for theories and assumptions and a quiet, unspoken jealousy that he refused to acknowledge out loud.

jay leaned over. “you good?”

“yup.”

“you look like you’re about to throw that ball at someone’s head.”

sunghoon glanced down at the ball in his hands. “just focused.”

“focused on…?”

“winning.”

“you’re literally not up next.”

sunghoon ignored him. instead, he sat back down, pretended he wasn’t looking over at you and heeseung talking like you were in your own little world, and reminded himself that he was your friend. your helpful, emotionally-stable, always-up-for-carrying-heavy-things friend. he could handle that. probably.

and the bowling alley closed at midnight, but the group was still buzzing with leftover adrenaline and just enough alcohol to make walking in a straight line optional. naturally, that meant the next stop was the bar downstairs from sunghoon and jay’s apartment, their usual post-everything spot. jay had jungwon slung over his back in a chaotic piggyback ride situation, spinning him in slow, clumsy circles as jungwon yelled, “this is the best birthday ever!” with his arms out like a drunk airplane.

sunghoon stood at the bar, balancing on the balls of his feet, waiting for the bartender to finish pouring their next round. his hoodie sleeves were rolled up, and he was doing mental math trying to figure out if they’d ordered six or seven beers when someone stepped up beside him.

“hey,” heeseung said, casual, nodding toward the cluster of friends behind them. “you having fun?”

sunghoon smiled politely. “yeah, i am. it’s alright.”

“i’m glad you and y/n got close,” heeseung said, tone sincere. “she’s mentioned it a few times. says you’re easy to talk to.” sunghoon blinked and heeseung chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “i mean it. she doesn’t say stuff like that about just anyone. i think she really appreciates your friendship.”

sunghoon nodded slowly, a small smile forming on his lips. part of him warmed at the idea that you talked about him at all, that maybe he wasn’t just another background character in your life. maybe you actually noticed him, his jokes, his presence, his friendship. but then again, that was the word. friendship. and hearing that from heeseung — heeseung, who might very well be the guy you curled up with at the end of the night inside sunghoon’s head — made it land like a compliment wrapped in a punch.

so sunghoon gave a small nod, grabbed the tray, and turned back toward the table with a practiced smile, careful not to drop anything or show too much on his face.

the night had mellowed into that sleepy, blurry stage where everyone was too tired to keep the party going, but not quite ready to say goodbye. the staircase outside sunghoon and jay’s condo was full of muffled laughter and shuffling feet. jay was half-carrying, half-dragging jungwon toward the entrance, mumbling something about him always passing out like a toddler on holidays.

sunghoon trailed a few steps behind them, eyes on the floor, brain already shifting into autopilot. he was thinking about how he’d need to find an extra blanket for jungwon, and how the couch springs were going to wreck his back by morning, and how weird it was that every night with you ended the same: him pretending he didn’t want to stay longer.

“sunghoon?”

your voice cut through the entrance. he turned around to find you a few steps down on the staircase, looking up at him. your makeup was a little smudged from the night, and your hair was a bit messy from the wind, but you looked so relaxed. like you’d had a good time, like you didn’t want it to end just yet.

“hey,” he said, walking back toward you.

you smiled, warm and sleepy. “i had so much fun tonight. like, actual fun. not just polite fun.”

he chuckled. “me too.”

“we still haven’t settled the bowling score though,” you added, a teasing glint in your eyes. “we’re technically tied, and i don’t like leaving things unresolved.”

sunghoon blinked. “so you’re challenging me to a rematch?”

“obviously,” you grinned. “i want a proper win next time.”

he nodded, a little slower than he meant to. “yeah. okay. i’m in.”

and you just smiled at him like that answer had been a given. like you knew he’d say yes, like this was easy. normal, friendly. but as he turned back toward the apartment, your words kept echoing in his head. “i had so much fun tonight.”, “i want a proper win next time.”

it wasn’t just what you said, it was how you said it, the way you looked at him, like the night wasn’t fully over until you said goodnight to him specifically. it sent his thoughts spiraling in that annoyingly hopeful way he tried so hard to avoid. maybe he wasn’t imagining things. maybe it wasn’t just him, falling into another crush he couldn’t manage. maybe there was something… there.

and yet, as he followed jay inside, stepped over jungwon’s half-unconscious body sprawled on the rug, and shut the door behind him, he still couldn’t tell if he was being seen the way he wanted to be seen. he was getting whiplash from hoping too much and pretending not to. and somewhere between getting a glass of water and setting up a pillow for jungwon, he realized he was completely, hopelessly, predictably into you. as if that wasn’t obvious already.

over the next few weeks, sunghoon slowly started to realize just how tangled up he was in his feelings for you. he found himself checking his phone a little more often, hoping for a message, and when you did invite him out, he tried to play it cool even though his stomach was doing flips.

most of the times you hung out, it was at gatherings with friends, the kind of casual, loud hangouts where it was hard to have a serious conversation. you would appear in the middle of a group, laughing and teasing someone, and sunghoon would catch himself watching you more than the game or the conversation. he kept guessing, quietly, that maybe there was something going on between you and heeseung, especially since you seemed close, comfortable around each other in a way that made sunghoon’s stomach tighten a little. but he never brought it up. not to you, not to jake, not even to himself out loud. it was easier to assume something was there than to face the uncertainty.

then, one evening, jake mentioned an ex of yours during a conversation, like a name dropped in passing. heeseung’s reaction caught sunghoon off guard. “that guy was such a jerk,” heeseung said, his voice low and almost protective. “you deserve so much better. you deserve someone who actually is, at least, not a jerk.”

that moment clicked something in sunghoon’s head. if heeseung was talking like that, maybe there wasn’t anything going on between you two after all. and that thought was both a relief and a reason to panic. because it meant the way was clear, but it also meant time was running out. you were amazing, and he was pretty sure there were plenty of other guys out there, sliding into your dms, trying to get your attention.

he started to feel a weird mix of excitement and anxiety, like a kid realizing he was finally allowed to play the game but also realizing how fast the clock was ticking. he wasn’t sure what to do with all those feelings, so most of the time, he just tried to keep calm on the outside while his mind raced ahead, imagining how to not mess it up.

one evening, sitting on the couch with jay scrolling through his phone, sunghoon finally decided to open up. he talked about how seeing you made him feel like he was stuck in this weird in-between, wanting more but not knowing how to get there without messing everything up. jay looked up, gave him that familiar sideways grin, and said something simple but solid: “bro, you just gotta be patient. wait for the right moment. don’t go jumping in all dramatic like you usually do.”

sunghoon rolled his eyes but knew jay was right. “yeah, i get it. no mugs with her face on it, no mixtapes, no playlist called ‘songs that remind me of you.’”

“exactly,” jay said, deadpan. “try being normal for once.”

sunghoon leaned back and closed his eyes, but his brain immediately went into overdrive. his mind was something like: okay, no mugs, got it. but what about a poem? no, that’s way too much. maybe a funny meme? too lame. what about baking cookies? wait, does she even like sweets? maybe she’s gluten-free. no clue. okay, no mixtapes, but what if i make a playlist? subtle though, not like ‘this is for you.’ maybe call it ‘songs i listen to when i’m feeling chill’? no, too vague. or maybe a mug but just plain, with a small quote? nah, still weird. what if i write her a note? no, i’m not a middle schooler. or just ask her out straight up? no, no, no. gotta wait for the moment. but when?

he sighed and looked over at jay, who was now smirking. “guess being normal is harder than it sounds.”

and a few weeks later, there was this party, and it was loud, crowded, and exactly the kind of chaos sunghoon didn’t really like. but there you were, halfway through your third drink, giggling at something nobody else had said, and instantly becoming the center of attention. you were funny, charming, and a little bit tipsy, the perfect combination for making everyone laugh without even trying. sunghoon, of course, was watching you with that panicked, how do i handle this look that only his closest friends knew too well.

somehow, the whole group decided that keeping an eye on you was his responsibility. no one said it out loud, but it was like an unspoken rule. maybe it was because he looked like the most responsible one, or maybe because you kept drifting toward him like a magnet, waving your arms dramatically while telling stories with way too much enthusiasm.

“sunghoon, you’re not going to believe what happened to me today,” you slurred slightly, swaying on your feet but managing to stay upright. “this guy at the coffee shop said i looked like a celebrity.” you wiggled your eyebrows and smiled at him, waiting for his reaction.

sunghoon blinked, trying to hide the part of his brain that was screaming she’s drunk and adorable and how do i even respond to this? “uh, that’s… great,” he said carefully, hoping it sounded casual. “you told him you’re famous now?”

you laughed, a little too loudly. “no, i said i’m just famous in my own head. get it?”

“yeah,” he smiled softly, already feeling like he’d lost the ability to say anything clever. “definitely famous.”

you reached out and grabbed his arm, leaning closer. “you’re no fun tonight, sunghoon. loosen up.” your eyes were sparkling mischievously, and sunghoon’s heart did a stupid little flip that he did not want anyone else to notice.

inside, he was running through every possible reaction: play it cool, be chill, don’t stare like a lovesick puppy. smile, laugh when she laughs, don’t mention the fact that her breath smells like cheap vodka. okay, offer her water? no, she’ll think i’m momming her. maybe just get another drink for myself to stay steady? nah, that’s just an excuse to drink too.

while he was debating this internal chaos, you suddenly burst out laughing at your own joke about the coffee shop guy, and sunghoon couldn’t help but smile, feeling himself falling deeper into whatever this was between you two. “you know,” you said, suddenly serious for a second, “i’m glad you’re here. it’s kinda nice having someone look out for me.”

sunghoon’s breath caught. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta do it.” he tried to sound casual, but there was no hiding the softness in his voice.

later, when you were wobbling a little too much to stand by yourself, sunghoon was immediately there to steady you. “i got you,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist as you leaned on him. everyone else just watched and smiled, like this was all part of the plan.

on the way out, you stumbled a bit and he tightened his grip. “thanks for being my human crutch tonight,” you joked.

“anytime,” he replied, feeling like he should say something deeper but all he could think was please don’t fall, please don’t fall.

walking you home was quiet but comforting. you kept mumbling random things about the party and some wild idea for a band you wanted to start. sunghoon just listened, his mind half on your words and half on how lucky he felt to be the one walking by your side. and when you finally reached your apartment, you turned and gave him a sleepy smile. “thanks for tonight, hoon. you’re a good friend.”

he nodded, smiling back, but inside, the familiar mix of hope and panic swirled again. good friend was a start, but maybe he wanted to be more than that. for now, though, he was happy to just get you home safe, and try not to mess up the next time you got this adorably drunk.

you paused at the door of your apartment, a little wobbly and smiling, looking at sunghoon with eyes that were definitely feeling the weight of the night. “hey, you don’t have to walk all the way home alone, you know,” you said, leaning against the wall for balance. “why don’t you just come in for a bit? it’s late, and honestly, i’d be worried about you.”

sunghoon gave a nervous smile, trying to look confident. “nah, i’m good. i’m a big boy, i can handle it.”

he felt your gaze, half intense, half sweet, half amused, as if silently asking, really? so you laughed softly, a little tipsy but sincere. “i’m gonna stay up all night worried if you don’t come in. and my couch is super comfortable, like, really. i could sleep there, and you’ll take the bed.”

sunghoon stopped for a second, his brain trying to decode the innocent but kinda tempting offer. wait, she wants me to sleep on her bed? he thought, feeling his heart speed up just a little. okay, maybe more than a little.

“never,” he said with a playful grin, “i’m never gonna let you sleep on the couch. you sleep on the bed, and i’ll take the couch.”

you widened your eyes like “aha, so you’re saying you’ll stay?” with a mischievous smile, clearly enjoying seeing him flustered.

sunghoon tried to play it cool, but inside his head it was total chaos. okay, breathe. don’t do anything dumb. but damn, this is really nice. “yeah,” he said, “guess that’s the deal.”

you laughed, flopping back on the couch like it was your personal bed already. “good. now i won’t have to worry. and you’ll be close if i need you to save me from any weird noises or monsters.”

sunghoon chuckled. “don’t worry. i’m way scarier than any monster.”

you were already sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, that sleepy, slightly goofy smile playing on your lips. sunghoon stood there for a moment, just watching you, feeling that weird mix of wanting to be helpful but not quite sure how. finally, he cleared his throat, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

“no no no, you should go change and sleep in your bed. don’t stay on the couch,” he said, his voice softer than he intended. inside, his brain was racing — okay, act normal. don’t make this weird. but also, don’t mess it up.

you scrunched your nose, crossing your arms like a kid who just got told to eat their vegetables. “ah, but i don’t wanna get up. it’s warm here,” you complained in that playful, stubborn tone that made sunghoon smile without even realizing it.

he laughed quietly but didn’t back down. instead, he just went over to you, and before you could argue more, he scooped you up effortlessly, just enough to carry you off the couch and start the slow walk to your room. in that moment, his heart was beating way faster than it should, and he caught himself thinking, wow, this is actually kinda nice.

when he laid you gently on your bed, he took a second to adjust the pillow behind your head, smoothing the blanket over you carefully, as if you were something fragile he wanted to protect. he stood there a moment longer, just watching your face, so peaceful now, and it hit him how much he actually cared about you, more than just friends, that was pretty obvious already, but not quite sure how to say that out loud yet.

then, leaning down slowly, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a quiet little promise that he was there and that you mattered. he pulled back a little and said, “i’m gonna close the door, okay? you change, then go to sleep. if you need anything, just call me.”

as he reached for a blanket on the chair, ready to head back to the couch, his mind was a mess of silly thoughts— is this what people mean by 'caring'? man, why does this feel so complicated? i just want her to be comfortable, but now i’m thinking about how nice it is to be close like this… okay, calm down, sunghoon.

he smiled to himself, shook his head lightly, and settled in for the night on the couch, feeling oddly happy and a little bit hopeless all at once.

the next morning sunghoon woke up with a start, his heart still racing from a half-remembered dream. your place was quiet, but there was something different. something warm and inviting that pulled him out of the couch. as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, a comforting smell drifted toward him: the rich aroma of coffee mixed with the sweet scent of pancakes. curious, he stood up, following the smell to the kitchen.

there you were, standing by the stove in a soft, oversized pajama shirt that looked impossibly cozy. the sight of you moving around the kitchen, focused yet relaxed, hit him with a sudden wave of tenderness he wasn’t ready for. his chest tightened, a gentle ache from the simple, quiet moment unfolding in front of him. you turned and caught him watching, a shy smile spreading across your face. “good morning,” you said softly, the casual warmth in your voice making everything feel right. “i thought i’d make us some breakfast. thanks for taking care of me last night.”

sunghoon’s eyes softened as he stepped closer, his heart swelling with something like pride and affection all tangled together. without thinking, you reached out and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. the scent of your shampoo, fresh and slightly sweet, filled his senses, and for a moment he just held onto you, feeling a calm happiness settle deep inside.

“you’re welcome,” he said quietly, voice low and a little breathless. “i’m just glad you’re okay.”

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your smile gentle but full of something more, something unspoken. the world outside the kitchen seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that soft morning light.

so after that morning, sunghoon’s brain basically went on permanent loop mode. and not the cool, chill kind of loop, but the one where your brain is stuck on a hamster wheel powered by a caffeine-addicted squirrel, because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. every little thing reminded him of you: the smell of coffee, the way you smiled, that ridiculous oversized pajama shirt that somehow made you look like both a cozy bear and a secret heartbreaker at the same time.

he started doing these totally unplanned mental movie scenes of you both, like some rom-com that he had zero control over. in his head, there were slow-motion moments, awkward laughs, and a lot of him trying not to trip over his own words — spoiler alert: he always did. and the tragic part was that he knew he was acting like a total dork, but he couldn’t care less. he was deep in the hopeless crush zone, and the sad, funny part was he didn’t even mind being there.

sunghoon even caught himself practicing casual greetings in the mirror, whispering, “hey, what’s up?” but sounding more like, “heyyyy, whassssuuup,” which definitely was not the vibe he wanted to give off.

and sunghoon never really knew how to play the guitar. like, he could barely hold the thing properly without feeling like he was about to break it or accidentally snap a string. but then there was this song, “falling in love” by mcfly, that somehow stuck in his head. it wasn’t even a cool song to brag about knowing, but it had this weird charm, and more importantly, he thought, maybe, just maybe, he could play it for you one day.

so, he went to jay and asked to borrow his guitar. jay raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting sunghoon to give up in like five minutes. but sunghoon was serious, he wanted this. the first few days were pure disaster. his fingers hurt, and every chord change sounded like a dying cat. he fumbled, he muttered swear words under his breath, and jay occasionally peeked in, half-amused, half-worried.

after what felt like forever, with his fingers all raw and sore, he finally managed to play the whole song without collapsing into a coughing fit or breaking a string. victorious but exhausted, he sent you a message: Hey, i learned falling in love on the guitar!

you replied instantly: i want to see you play it someday :)))

sunghoon stared at his phone, heart racing like he’d run a marathon. then, of course, his brain went into overdrive. what if i mess up? what if my fingers slip? what if i sound terrible even after all this practice? but at the same time, there was this tiny spark of excitement that maybe this was a step closer to something more than just friends.

one day, sunghoon was finally doing something with jay that didn’t involve him thinking about you nonstop, which was a true miracle, really. they were just messing around, playing some dumb game on jay’s phone, cracking jokes, and for a moment, sunghoon’s brain was somewhere other than you. then his phone buzzed with that annoying notification again: someone was attacking the pokemon gym right across the street, the one he had claimed like two days ago after a fierce battle.

he glanced at the screen, and sure enough, it was snoopygirl_98, the same mysterious pokémon go player who had been stealing that gym from him every other day. the rivalry was basically legendary in his mind: the fierce battle of sunghoon vs snoopygirl_98. he never actually knew who she was, but he was determined to keep his turf.

without a second thought, sunghoon slipped his phone into his pocket, grabbed his slipper (the one goofy soft slipper he always wore around the house) and said, “jay, hold on. i gotta settle this.” jay just raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, knowing sunghoon’s competitive streak was about to kick into overdrive. so there he was, tiptoeing out of the apartment, half slipping on the soft slipper but trying to look cool anyway. as he crossed the street, he was already imagining the showdown. “okay, snoopygirl_98,” he whispered, “time to see who’s the real champion.”

as he turned the corner onto the street where the gym always stood, sunghoon was already preparing his battle stance, phone in one hand, thumb poised like a dramatic swordsman, ready to reclaim his gym with the same urgency people usually reserved for, like, national emergencies. he was muttering strategies under his breath, rehearsing which pokémon to use first (always charizard, never blissey — blissey was a coward’s choice) when he noticed a familiar shape a few steps ahead, someone standing by the 7-eleven sign, head tilted down, clearly battling on their phone with the kind of concentration that only came from either playing pokémon go or trying to transfer money while your banking app crashes.

he squinted, slowed down, adjusted his slipper, because something about the silhouette made his brain do that annoying thing where it starts connecting dots he didn’t ask it to connect. the hoodie was oversized. the socks were mismatched. the hair was pulled up the way he always secretly thought looked really good on you even though he never said anything because what kind of guy compliments hair logistics? and then you looked up. and it was you. and sunghoon’s brain just stopped.

you didn’t see him right away, too focused on whatever attack you were tapping out on your screen and for a second, he just stood there, frozen, phone hanging limply in his hand like he'd forgotten what apps were, trying to process the fact that snoopygirl_98 — the elusive enemy who had single-handedly ruined his gym stats for months, the digital nemesis he had cursed under his breath more times than he could count — was you. you. as in, the person who still didn’t know he practiced saying “hi” in the mirror before group hangouts, just in case you were there. the person he may or may not have secretly written a list about titled “things she’s said that made me feel weird in a good way.”

and now here you were, standing across from him, completely unaware, committing virtual violence against his snorlax like it was just another tuesday. because it was, in fact, just another tuesday.

he blinked once, then again, then checked his phone, like maybe the app had glitched, like maybe this was some alternate universe where you just happened to have the exact same username as his sworn digital rival. but there it was: snoopygirl_98. blue team. level 37. the destroyer of dreams and the reason he once rage-deleted the app at 2am and reinstalled it ten minutes later because he couldn’t sleep without knowing if the gym was still his.

and somehow, somehow, it was you.

he didn’t know what to do. he couldn’t just walk up and say “hey, remember that gym you’ve been taking over every night for six months? surprise! it’s me, your accidental pokémon nemesis and also the guy who may or may not be in love with you depending on how much eye contact we’ve made in the last week.” no. absolutely not. he had dignity. barely. but he had it. kind of.

instead, he took a cautious step back like a spy retreating from an unexpected recon mission, trying not to make noise as he slid his slipper against the pavement, which unfortunately made a cartoonish squeak that echoed louder than it should have in the open air. you turned, looked up, and your face lit up the exact way it always did when you saw him, like it was just a nice surprise to run into your friend, like nothing weird was happening, like you weren’t holding his gym hostage right now with a smug-looking vaporeon.

“sunghoon?” you said, smiling, completely normal, as if this wasn’t some betrayal of trust that would go down in pokémon go history forums if he ever decided to tell the story.

he opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “hey,” he finally said, voice much higher than usual, like someone had turned the pitch knob on his entire social confidence.

you tilted your head, confused for a second, then pointed at your screen. “you play too?”

and that was it. the unraveling. the full comedic collapse of sunghoon’s internal monologue. because play too? girl. play too? you’ve been personally destroying his soul one blissey at a time and now you were standing there acting like you were new to the whole thing, like you weren’t the blue team villain of his red team nightmares. he wanted to laugh. or cry. or possibly propose. he wasn’t sure anymore.

he forced a smile. “yeah… i dabble.”

you laughed, completely unaware of the hurricane inside his skull. “i’ve been stealing this gym for weeks. i don’t know who keeps taking it back, but it’s kind of my nightly routine now.”

he nodded slowly, like someone who’s just realized they’ve been in a romcom subplot this entire time and everyone forgot to tell them. “yeah. weird. wonder who that could be.”

you grinned. “whoever it is, they’re relentless.”

he blinked. smiled. swallowed the dramatic gasp he wanted to let out. “yeah,” he said again, staring at your phone like it had personally insulted his family. “totally relentless.”

and in that moment, as you turned your attention back to your screen and started strategizing your next move with a seriousness that honestly impressed him, sunghoon realized something that both horrified and thrilled him in equal measure: he didn’t want to win the gym anymore. not tonight. maybe not ever. because losing to you? weirdly… kind of felt like winning.

so the weeks that followed the great snoopygirl_98 2025 revelation were, to sunghoon’s brain, a chaotic montage of unprocessed emotions, late-night gym takeovers, and entirely too many internal monologues that began with “okay but what does it mean” and ended with him staring at the ceiling like always. because now that he knew you were, well, you, he couldn’t un-know it. everything felt different, except literally nothing had changed. you still sent him memes at weird hours. you still texted him “tell me something random” out of nowhere and then rated his answers out of ten. you still walked into rooms like you were casually auditioning for the lead in the sitcom of his life.

and sunghoon, for his part, was trying to be normal. keyword: trying. which mostly meant overthinking every single interaction while nodding like an emotionally competent adult. a simple “hey, what are you doing tonight?” from you became an existential riddle he could only solve through three hours of pacing and a playlist of acoustic sad songs.

he had started categorizing your texts into very serious folders in his brain, like:

folder a: possibly flirty but could be friendly if you squint.

folder b: definitely friendly but still makes his stomach feel weird.

folder c: completely neutral but somehow he read it five times anyway.

folder d: emergency. called him “dude.” instant damage. snorlax lost 400 HP.

and then, as if fate hadn’t already made things complicated enough, you started talking about how i met your mother. at first it was casual. you mentioned you’d been rewatching some episodes and sunghoon, of course, latched on immediately like a drowning man clinging to a life raft labeled shared interests. he texted back something way too enthusiastic, like “WAIT I LOVE THAT SHOW,” and then instantly regretted the all caps but it was too late.

from there, it spiraled in the best possible way. suddenly you were sending each other voice notes about barney’s worst outfits (trick question: barney is always wearing a suit), arguing over whether ted was just misunderstood or annoying (sunghoon was team both), and quoting lines back and forth. and it became a routine, you’d agree on which episodes to watch, then text throughout like you were sitting on opposite ends of the same couch, reacting in real time. and sure, sometimes the timing was off and someone got spoiled by an accidental “OMG LILY JUST SAID THAT” two minutes before the scene actually happened, but it didn’t matter. it was fun. it felt like something, like a shared little world.

and then when you were talking about season two, something about how marshall and lily’s relationship made you feel weirdly emotional in a way you hadn’t expected, and sunghoon had just typed out a Very Deep Message about love and growing up when you interrupted with:

[y/n:] why don’t you just come over and we watch together?

[y/n:] we could watch and order something like real, greasy, perfect food

sunghoon stared at the message like it was a prophecy. he reread it, twice. then a third time, just in case it turned into “actually nvm lol” when he blinked. it didn’t. it stayed there, glowing softly on his screen. and his brain, poor sunghoon’s brain, absolutely exploded.

one part of him went: she invited you over. this is it. this is the crossover episode. but what if it’s just, like, a chill friend hangout? what if she makes you watch the pineapple episode and asks if you relate to ted. and then the final part, the dramatic romantic core of his soul, just whispered: go. wear your good hoodie. the one that doesn’t smell like doritos.

he took a deep breath, typed back something that he hoped sounded effortlessly cool — probably something tragically boring like “Yeah, sounds fun :)” — and then threw his phone across the room like it had personally attacked him with joy.

because yeah, it was happening. he was going to your apartment, again, not for drinking reasons and sleeping at your couch this time, no. you were going to watch how i met your mother together. with food, and possibly blankets. and if the universe was in any way fair, maybe you’d laugh at something he said and nudge his arm and he would not panic.

sunghoon arrived five minutes early, which, for him, was an act of immense restraint considering he’d spent the last twenty debating which snacks made him look more chill. he had one hand clutching a crinkly plastic bag full of sodium and intention, and the other mentally prepared to knock even though you’d already told him, twice, to just come in when he got there. still, he hovered in front of your door for a second, wondering if the zero-calorie soda made him look like someone trying too hard not to care.

you opened the door in a big hoodie and patterned socks, looking like you hadn’t overthought a single thing today, which made him immediately regret every decision he’d made in the past hour, starting with ironing his t-shirt. you glanced at the bag in his hand, raised an eyebrow, and grinned. “you brought the entire snack aisle.”

“i wanted to make sure we don’t need to get up for at least three episodes,” he said, holding it out like a peace offering.

you peeked inside, spotted a rainbow of crunchy nonsense and two sodas, and smiled again, this one softer, and then said, with no sarcasm and no dramatic pause, “that’s actually really cute.”

sunghoon felt the sentence hit somewhere between his ribcage and his ability to behave like a normal human. “cute” wasn’t usually something he processed well. especially not when it came from you, in that tone. he gave a little laugh that wasn’t really a laugh and followed you into the apartment. the living room looked lived-in in the best way. blanket on the couch, half-melted candle on the coffee table, tv already queued up. you tossed a couple of pillows to the floor, sat cross-legged on the couch, and patted the spot next to you with zero hesitation, like this was the most natural thing in the world. he sat, careful not to take up too much space, careful not to do something weird with his hands.

you started the episode, some early season of how i met your mother, and the familiar opening theme filled the room. sunghoon tried to focus on the screen but your knee had already brushed his twice, and you were sitting close enough that he could smell your shampoo, which he refused to think about too long.

you had just grabbed a blanket and casually tossed half of it across his lap like that was completely fine. you shifted your weight, leaning slightly into him, and he told himself it was normal. you were comfortable. this was comfort. comfort wasn’t dangerous. except it kind of was, because now you were sharing a blanket, and the warmth wasn’t just from the polyester.

somewhere around the middle of the episode, you rested your hand on his arm for a second while laughing, just a quick touch, and then didn’t really move it, letting it stay there as you turned to say something about how ted reminded you of a guy you dated in college “but like, if that guy was worse at metaphors.” sunghoon nodded, mostly to cover up the fact that his brain had gone suspiciously quiet, like it was holding its breath.

you shifted again, pulled your legs up, and now your knee was leaning against his in a way that didn’t feel accidental. you didn’t apologize, or move, you just stayed like that, narrating bits of the episode, making comments, stealing a few chips from the bag he’d opened on his lap like you always did, but now it felt different, closer. intentional in a way that made sunghoon’s hands go kind of weird and tingly.

he tried to focus on the episode. really, he did. he watched barney fail another pick-up attempt, watched ted give one of his long-winded love speeches, and watched lily roll her eyes in that way she always did when she knew something before the rest of the group did. and through all of that, you kept your hand on his arm. and sometimes, your thumb moved slightly, like it was drawing little circles. he couldn’t tell if that was on purpose, and he wasn’t about to ask.

“ted tries too hard,” you said eventually, still watching the screen. “like… if he just stopped declaring things every five minutes, he’d probably be fine.”

“yeah,” sunghoon said, trying not to think too hard about how many things he’d rehearsed in the mirror just in case you ever brought up relationships. “relatable.”

you laughed lightly, looked at him sideways. “you’re not like ted, though.”

“is that a good thing?”

“it’s a good thing,” you said. and then, just like that, you leaned your head against his shoulder. not in rom-com way. just a quiet shift, like it made sense.

sunghoon blinked at the tv, which he now couldn’t see properly because your head was in the way, and decided that was perfectly fine. he didn’t need to see the episode. he’d seen it before anyway. probably twice, maybe three times. and you didn’t say anything after that, and he didn’t either. you stayed there, quiet but not awkward, and the blanket warmed up between you. he was very aware of how still he was sitting, as if moving even slightly would ruin the balance of the moment. your hand slipped down from his arm and onto his knee, not like a grand romantic gesture, more like you forgot where your hand was supposed to go and decided it was his knee now. he didn’t know what to do with that. so he let it be.

when the episode ended, you didn��t move right away. the next one auto-started, the theme song rolling in again, and you let out a soft hum, like maybe you were thinking, or maybe you were just full of snacks.

then you said, not looking at him, “we should make this our thing.”

sunghoon turned his head slightly. “what thing?”

“this,” you said. “watching how i met your mother together.”

he nodded slowly, trying not to seem too eager. “yeah. i’m good with that.”

you finally looked at him, that same easy smile on your face, and then you bumped his knee with yours, not hard, just enough to make sure he was still paying attention. he smiled back, heart doing things he would later try to explain to jay using weird metaphors involving elevators and jelly beans. and just like that, he knew he wasn’t imagining things anymore. or maybe he still was. but either way, it felt kind of real. real enough to sit quietly and let the next episode start, your head on his shoulder, your hand on his knee, and the thought in his head that maybe, finally, this wasn’t just another almost.

after that first night, watching how i met your mother together became a thing, not officially, not scheduled, not even discussed really, but it kept happening. every couple of days, one of you would text and the other would know exactly what it meant. snacks were expected, drinks too, sometimes takeout, sometimes just popcorn and half a leftover soda, but always the same couch, always the same routine.

it didn’t start out that physical, but over time, the way you sat next to each other got… closer. more relaxed. you got comfortable first, you always did. you’d throw your legs across his lap like it meant nothing, lean your head on his shoulder when you were too lazy to sit straight, or curl into his side like it was the most natural place to be. and sunghoon would freeze every time, nod like he was fine, then immediately go into full internal system reboot. he’d sit there pretending to be unaffected, nodding at the tv with the intensity of someone watching a government briefing, while you poked his knee or played with the drawstring of his hoodie like it was just a fidget toy. and he never stopped you. not once. not even when you fell asleep on his arm and drooled slightly on his hoodie sleeve. (he washed it the next day but also kind of wanted to keep it that way. he didn't tell anyone that.)

you were always the one to touch first. he was always the one to overthink it. but then one night, it was raining a little outside, and the apartment was warm, and you'd made tea for both of you for some reason, even though neither of you usually drank tea during sitcom reruns. the lights were low, the episode was one of those emotional ones where ted was being dramatic about someone leaving, and you were curled up right next to him, knee pressed to his thigh, blanket half over your lap and half over his. you looked like you might fall asleep again, but you weren’t. you were just quiet and calm, and sunghoon, in a moment of bravery that he didn’t plan and definitely didn’t rehearse, lifted his arm and rested it around your shoulders, not awkwardly, not halfway, but all the way around. solid, like he meant it.

you didn’t react for a second, then shifted under his arm and leaned your head onto his chest without saying anything. you didn’t joke, you didn’t make it weird. you just rested there like you’d been waiting for him to do that for a while. because, well, you were.

he stared at the tv, heart going approximately 800 beats per minute, trying very hard not to mess anything up by existing too loudly.

“this is comfortable,” you mumbled after a moment, voice low.

“yeah,” he said, somehow managing to sound calm even though his brain was short-circuiting. “you have a surprisingly heavy head, by the way.”

you snorted. “excuse me?”

“it’s not an insult,” he said, trying not to laugh. “it’s just. structurally. very dense.”

“maybe it’s full of all the times you’ve secretly checked me out and thought i didn’t notice.”

he blinked. actually blinked. then coughed, because his throat forgot how to function. “what— i— that’s—”

you laughed. you were clearly not taking it that seriously. you were just being you, casually flirty in a way that felt like breathing. and he could have just let it go, he could’ve rolled his eyes and changed the subject and moved on like he always did. but for some reason, this time, he didn’t.

“if i was checking you out,” he said, still looking at the screen, “i wouldn’t do it secretly.”

you looked up at him a little, one eyebrow raised, that half-smile forming on your face, the one you used when you caught him saying something he clearly hadn’t meant to say out loud. “oh?” you said. simple and amused. a bit dangerous.

sunghoon realized what he’d just said about five seconds too late, and he wanted to disappear into the couch, but it was too late now. the sentence was out there, floating in the air. you didn’t say anything for a moment. just shifted again, a little closer this time, your arm settling across his stomach casually, like this was fine, like this was good, and maybe it was. he didn’t say anything else. neither did you. the episode kept playing.

but the energy had shifted just slightly, like something had tilted in the right direction. and for once, sunghoon didn’t try to fix it or overthink it or joke it away. he just sat there, with your head on his chest, your arm across him, and the feeling that maybe, somehow, he’d just started something without even meaning to. and the best part was that you didn’t seem to mind at all.

and it was after that night on the couch that sunghoon started getting a little braver. not confident movie character braver, just small steps. like brushing your hair out of your face without immediately apologizing for it. or letting his hand stay on your knee when you sat close. or making comments that maybe sounded flirty but were delivered in such a deadpan voice that it took you a second to realize he was being serious.

he started leaning in more when you talked. he started answering your texts faster without pretending to wait five minutes like he used to. he made playlists and shared them without labeling them something obvious like songs that make me think of your face (he wanted to, but he didn’t). he was still himself, still sunghoon, still deeply confused most of the time, but there was something about that night that made him feel like maybe you wouldn’t run if he actually tried.

a few weeks later, there was a night out. the bar under the apartment again. the usual crew, some people from college, a couple new friends no one really remembered inviting. sunghoon had no idea what they were celebrating. he asked twice. jay said something about a work promotion, jake said it was just friday, and someone else said it was heeseung’s cousin’s birthday. none of it felt convincing.

but it didn’t matter. everyone was drinking, someone had ordered two baskets of fries “for the table,” and you were sitting next to sunghoon, laughing at something he’d said that wasn’t even a joke, and your hand was on his thigh like it belonged there. and sunghoon, for once, didn’t freeze. he leaned toward you, nudged your shoulder with his, and made some dumb comment about the song playing, but you laughed anyway, then leaned your head briefly on his shoulder and left it there just long enough to make his brain forget how to function for a bit.

everyone else was shouting over each other. jay was trying to convince jake to join him in some tequila shot competition that wasn’t a real thing. jungwon was filming something on his phone that would definitely not make sense in the morning. and sunghoon was sitting there thinking about how your fingers kept tracing circles on his knee, very casually, very slowly, like you weren’t even thinking about it.

and then (of course, because the universe has a sense of humor), some guy appeared, tall. friendly-looking, clearly a few drinks in. not part of your group. he walked up and said something to you. sunghoon didn’t catch the first part, just the tone: the slightly too smooth, trying-too-hard kind of tone. you laughed politely, the way people do when they’re trying not to encourage. the guy leaned in closer, asked your name. said something else that sunghoon couldn’t fully hear but saw you shift a little in response. and something in his stomach tightened.

he wasn’t mad. he wasn’t even surprised. people liked you, obviously. you were warm and funny and way too pretty for him to be sitting next to you in the first place. it wasn’t the guy’s fault, he didn’t know anything. sunghoon should’ve done this months ago, if he had the courage to do it. still, he went quiet. he looked down at his drink, then at you, then back at the guy. he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to do something. you weren’t his, there were no rules.

the guy kept talking. not aggressive, just persistent. you were still smiling, but it looked tighter now. less amused, more tired. and then, suddenly, you turned slightly, reached over, and rested your hand on sunghoon’s arm.

“hey,” you said, looking right at the guy. “sorry, my boyfriend gets kinda jealous.”

and you said it so calmly, so casually. like it was the truth. like this was normal. like sunghoon was your boyfriend and not just the guy who once forgot how to speak when you tied your hair up in front of him. the guy blinked, looked at sunghoon, who was now frozen mid-sip of his drink, cup halfway to his mouth.

sunghoon nodded once. not too fast, just enough to sell it. “yeah,” he said, voice steady. “super jealous. very possessive. not proud of it.”

you gave him the smallest side glance, clearly trying not to laugh, and squeezed his arm like you’re doing great, keep going, oscar-worthy stuff. the guy held up his hands like no worries, totally cool, and backed off without drama. he disappeared into the crowd.

the second he was gone, you looked at sunghoon and grinned. “thanks for playing along.”

he blinked. “yeah. of course.”

“you did the jealous boyfriend voice really well.”

“it’s just my regular voice,” he muttered, eyes still on his drink.

you leaned your chin on his shoulder for a second. “maybe you should use it more often.”

he didn’t say anything. mostly because his entire internal system was shutting down again. but this time, he wasn’t panicking, not really. his heart was definitely doing some weird rhythmic gymnastics and his brain had already started drafting a completely unnecessary analysis titled "what does it mean when she fake-calls you her boyfriend but then also holds your arm and looks at you like that," but he wasn’t spiraling. not in the usual sense.

so he just sat there, letting the noise of the bar blur around him, while you sipped the rest of your drink like nothing happened. and maybe for you, nothing had. maybe it was just a line, a joke. a way to get rid of an annoying guy without a scene. or maybe it was something else. something between the lines. something you weren’t saying out loud yet either.

“i want a terrible burger,” you said suddenly, finishing the last of your soda and setting the cup down with dramatic finality. “like, a bad one. like, i want to regret it in the morning.”

sunghoon blinked, pulled back into reality. “what, like… fast food bad?”

“exactly,” you said, eyes lighting up. “like wendy’s. i want to see a sad lettuce leaf in my sandwich.”

he snorted. “that’s oddly specific.”

you stood up and grabbed your jacket. “come on, boyfriend. let’s go to wendy’s.”

he didn’t correct you. he just followed you out, tossing a quick goodbye to the group still half-yelling about tequila, and stepped into the night air that felt colder than it should’ve after all that body heat and bar lighting. you walked a few blocks, mostly in silence, still a little buzzed but in that sleepy, satisfied way that made everything feel slower. then, right as you were crossing an empty street, you reached out and grabbed his hand. not in a performative way, you just took it, like it was there and you felt like holding it. like you remembered the fake-boyfriend story and decided to keep the bit going. or maybe not, maybe you just wanted to.

“you’re doing great, by the way,” you said, fingers laced through his like it meant nothing. “very convincing. the protective arm thing? ten out of ten.”

he glanced down at your hands still together. he nodded slowly. “i studied for the role.”

you grinned. “you’re a natural.”

he tried not to think too hard about it, but of course he did anyway. because holding hands wasn’t a big deal. except it was, except it was a big deal when it was you. but he kept walking next to you, hand in hand, and his brain just quietly melted. you were still holding his hand. you pointed at the wendy’s sign ahead like it was a beacon of hope. “we feast,” you declared.

he laughed under his breath, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do with all the emotions bouncing around in his chest. he didn’t know where this was going, he didn’t know what this meant. but he knew he wanted more of this — your hand, your jokes, your version of terrible food decisions. and maybe that was enough for now.

the wendy’s was almost empty, just a sleepy guy mopping the floor in the corner and a cashier humming quietly behind the counter. you walked straight to the self-ordering kiosk with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before, tapping the screen. sunghoon stood behind you, close enough that he could read the menu too, but mostly because the screen was small and the space was narrow. it wasn’t like he planned it, he just stepped forward once and then didn’t step back.

you didn’t seem to mind. you were scrolling through the combo options, talking to yourself. “okay, nuggets are too risky. fries, obviously. double cheeseburger, or do you want the one with the weird barbecue sauce again?” you didn’t turn around, just asked, still facing the screen, “what do you want?”

and he wasn’t thinking. not in a conscious way. he was just staring at the back of your head, at the way your shirt was falling off one shoulder slightly, at how close you were, at how warm his chest felt from where you were just standing in front of it like it was nothing.

so he said it. like it wasn’t anything at all.

“you.”

you laughed immediately. the kind of laugh that came out of your nose and mouth at the same time, short and surprised and familiar. you kept tapping the screen like you hadn’t heard him properly, or like he was joking. but sunghoon didn’t laugh, he didn’t say anything else. and you paused.

you turned around slowly, still half-grinning, clearly ready to tease him, but then you looked up and saw that he wasn’t grinning back. he was just looking down at you, like this wasn’t a joke. like he didn’t care that it was happening next to a laminated poster of a frosty.

and something in your expression shifted too. the smile faded, but not in a bad way, just softened, slowed down. like whatever you’d been holding back was now impossible to keep behind the usual banter. so you stared at him for a second, head tilted slightly, like you were trying to decide if you were allowed to do what you were about to do.

and then you did it anyway. you reached up, grabbed the front of his hoodie, and pulled him down toward you. not roughly, not urgently, just with purpose, and he didn’t hesitate, didn’t question it, didn’t even breathe before his mouth was on yours.

he didn’t stop to think about it, didn’t hesitate, didn’t calculate angles or worry about logistics, which was rare for him. he just moved. his heart was doing something that felt like a cross between a drum solo and a panic attack. he could feel the heat rising up the back of his neck, which was annoying because that always happened when he was nervous, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now because your face was right there and your lips were already on his and he was kissing you.

he was kissing you. okay. okay. this was happening.

his first thought was that your lips were soft, which was so cliché and unoriginal he immediately scolded himself internally, but then he had no time to think of anything better because your hands were still on his hoodie, still holding him close, and his own hands had instinctively gone to your waist and stayed there like they knew what to do even though his brain absolutely did not.

it was warm. not just physically, but in that weird way where everything around him felt quiet all of a sudden, even though there was still the distant hum of the soda machine and the soft squeak of the mop across the tile floor. the kiss wasn’t perfect, his nose got in the way a little. he turned his head too far at first and had to readjust, which made him silently panic for a second like wait did i ruin it did she notice oh my god i bumped her tooth, but you didn’t pull back, you just leaned in more.

your mouth tasted like sprite and some other food vaguely artificial and it should’ve been gross but somehow it wasn’t. somehow it just felt real and simple. like this was something you did, apparently. kissed each other now. this was now part of the routine.

his hands gripped your sides gently like he was making sure you didn’t vanish. he didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. three seconds? ten? a full minute? he couldn’t tell. time had stopped cooperating with him. all he knew was that you were kissing him like you meant it, like this wasn’t an accident or a joke or a weird side quest in a long friendship. like this was on purpose.

his brain tried to catch up the entire time. there were at least four full thoughts bouncing around at once, all useless:

1. what if this is a dream and i wake up and i’m still on the couch with chips on my chest.

2. i don’t know what to do with my thumbs. why do thumbs exist?

3. i can’t believe she just kissed me next to a wendy’s totem.

4. i don’t want this to stop.

and then, eventually, it did stop.

you pulled back just slightly, enough to breathe, enough to look up at him. but you didn’t move away. you stayed close, like you weren’t done, like you just needed a second. so he stood there, hands still on your waist, completely unsure of what his face was doing. his mouth might’ve been slightly open, he didn’t know. his thoughts were still lagging a full minute behind his body.

you looked at him and said, “so that’s how we’re doing this now.”

his brain was still stuck on the kiss, but he blinked, nodded once, and somehow said, “apparently.” you tilted your head just a little, searching his face for something, and he realized he probably looked like a deer that had wandered into traffic and liked it. he cleared his throat, but his voice still came out low and uneven when he said, “i’m not complaining.”

you exhaled slowly, and then you smiled again, this time real and unguarded and a little too big. “first kiss next to a wendy’s kiosk. this is what dreams are made of.”

“honestly,” he said, “it’s probably the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me in a fast food place.”

you laughed, resting your forehead briefly against his chest. “mine too. tragically.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy again, but it wasn’t the bad kind of shy. it was the kind that made him want to say things he’d been sitting on for weeks. “so,” he started, “there’s something else i should probably admit.”

you looked up. “okay?”

he hesitated. “you know that gym across my street? the one you’ve been defending for months?”

you narrowed your eyes. “yeah…”

he cleared his throat. “so. uh. i was the one taking it back every time. team valor. red guy with the dragonite.”

your mouth dropped open slightly. “you’re shadyhoon420?”

he winced. “in my defense, i made that username in like 2018. it was funny then.”

“it’s still funny now,” you said, shaking your head. “i thought shadyhoon420 was some twelve-year-old with too much free time.”

“nope,” he said. “twenty-something with unresolved competitive issues.”

you laughed again, full-body this time, like you couldn’t believe it. “you were trolling me for months.”

“i was trying to win,” he said. “you were annoyingly good.”

“you were annoying in general.”

“and yet here we are,” he said, glancing down at you, still tucked into his chest. “making out in a wendy’s.”

you rolled your eyes, but not in the real way. more like you were trying not to grin again. your hands were still holding onto the front of his hoodie, like letting go didn’t feel necessary yet. and he didn’t want you to. his hands hadn’t moved either, they were still resting on your waist, warm and steady, like his body knew what his brain was still trying to accept, that this wasn’t hypothetical anymore, it was real. it had happened. you kissed him, and he kissed you back.

he didn’t say anything else right away. not because he didn’t have anything to say, but because he was still sorting through the fact that for weeks, maybe longer, he’d been inching closer to you in little ways — a leg under the blanket, a hand brushing yours, a text that was maybe too honest — and now suddenly there was no more guessing. you’d pulled him in. you kissed him. you’d looked him in the face like you were just as tired of waiting.

and somehow it wasn’t weird, it wasn’t awkward. it didn’t feel like something they’d both laugh off tomorrow and pretend didn’t happen. it felt like something that had been quietly building in the background, so slowly neither of them had wanted to be the one to name it out loud, until you just did.

and now he was standing there, still in your arms, still close enough to feel the warmth of your breath on his neck, realizing that something had already started. not five minutes ago. not in the middle of the kiss, but way earlier. maybe on that first night on the couch. maybe the first time you texted him about something dumb at 2 a.m. or maybe the first time you knocked his leg with yours and didn’t move it away. and whatever it was, it wasn’t a maybe anymore.

and honestly, standing there in front of a glowing touchscreen that still said “order now” in giant, red font, that felt exactly right. because of course it would be like this, not planned, not perfect. just stupidly casual and somehow kind of perfect anyway.

you pulled away first, but only a little, and said, “okay, romantic moment over. i’m starving.”

“yeah,” sunghoon said, blinking back into functionality. “same.”

you turned back to the kiosk, finally placing the order, laughing again when he insisted on extra fries “because i feel emotionally vulnerable and carbs help.” you didn’t make fun of him. you just nodded like, yeah, that tracks. and when the food came out, you grabbed the tray and headed to the corner booth, the one you two always sat in when the place was empty, which it still was. it felt like your booth now, like it had seen things, like it knew too much.

you sat down first, immediately curling one leg under yourself and holding the burger with two hands like it was sacred. sunghoon sat next to you, not across, not leaving space, but right beside you like always, except this time, his arm went around your shoulders the second he sat down, no hesitation, no awkward pause. and you didn’t just lean into him like before. you really leaned.

your head dropped to his shoulder for a second before you took your first bite, and he felt your whole body relax against his like this was exactly where you wanted to be, and it wasn’t like before. it wasn’t just a friendly lean or a casual touch, it was closer. it felt like something that had been waiting to happen and now finally had.

you both ate in silence for a minute, the kind of silence that wasn’t empty. it was full of whatever this new thing was between you. you passed fries back and forth like it was muscle memory. he picked the pickles off your sandwich without being asked. you stole his soda without warning. and he didn’t flinch when your hand found his leg under the table and stayed there. you’d done this before. sat like this, shared food, leaned into each other, stayed late until the lights started flickering. but tonight it felt different, for very kissy obvious reasons.

sunghoon looked over at you once, mid-bite, and you caught him staring. you smiled with your mouth full and said, “don’t get all sappy on me.”

he shrugged. “too late.”

you shook your head and leaned into him again, chewing quietly, like it was no big deal. but he knew it was, and he knew this was only the beginning. and he also knew — later, when you were walking home and holding hands again like it was completely natural — that he was fully, entirely, probably hopelessly into you. and he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore.

the weeks after that night at wendy’s were weird in the least dramatic way possible. nothing major changed. you were still texting dumb questions to each other and you were still stealing his fries like they were community property. but now you kissed him, now he could hold your hand without pretending he was reaching for something else. now he could rest his chin on top of your head when you were sitting on the couch and no one would say anything sarcastic about it. it was new, but it also felt like it had already been there the whole time, just waiting for someone to label it.

sunghoon had fully expected to be awkward about it. and to be fair, sometimes he was. he still got weirdly quiet when you called him “babe” for the first time, and he once accidentally called you “dude” right after kissing you and spent the next two hours apologizing. but mostly, things were good, comfortable and fun.

you started doing more couple-y stuff without needing to make it A Thing. you grocery shopped together, you did laundry at the same time, folded each other’s hoodies like an old married couple, and argued over the right way to hang dry t-shirts. you went to a mini golf place that was weirdly intense about rules, and sunghoon realized you were more competitive than him, which was saying something.

he started to show you more of the things he usually kept to himself. like his half-written playlist ideas. like the folder of blurry phone videos he took of you without meaning to. like the fact that he still had a high score on fruit ninja and was proud of it. and one night, after you’d been watching some random youtube rabbit hole of early 2000s pop rock videos and you said, “ugh i forgot how much i loved mcfly,” sunghoon sat there in silence for a second before quietly saying, “i need to play falling in love for you.”

he played it slowly, a little shakily. he forgot a chord halfway through and mumbled something that wasn’t a word, but you didn’t laugh. you didn’t make fun of him. you just sat there listening like it was your favorite thing he’d ever done. and when he finished, you kissed his cheek and said, “you’re disgusting. i love it.”

after that, he stopped holding back so much. he let himself be more flirty, more open, more ridiculous. and to his surprise, you were just as bad, maybe worse. you texted him things like “miss ur dumb face” even if you’d seen him three hours ago. you’d randomly send voice notes where you just said “hi” in different tones and asked him to rate them.

and that’s when sunghoon realized something big: you were just as emotionally reckless as him.

you made plans too early. you got soft too fast. you saved pictures of things that reminded you of him and showed them later like it was nothing. and he was so used to being the one who caught feelings first that it completely broke his brain a little. so he started noticing it in small things. like how you’d always scoot closer to him even if there was already zero space left on the couch. or how you remembered random things he said in passing and brought them up a week later like they were important. or how your entire face changed when he walked into a room, even if you were pretending to be cool about it.

and then one night, when you were sitting cross-legged on the floor of his apartment, he blurted something out without meaning to. “did you and heeseung ever date?”

you looked up, blinked. “what?”

“i mean,” he said quickly, “not that it matters now. i just. i always kinda thought there was something there. like before.” you chewed slowly, still staring at him. “like,” he continued, clearly panicking now, “not in a jealous way. i just thought maybe you two had a thing. the way you talked. i don’t know. i used to overthink it. a lot. i almost stopped talking to you once because of it. which is dumb. very dumb.”

you swallowed, still looking at him like he’d just admitted he once ate a shoe. then you said, “sunghoon. heeseung and i bonded over the fact that we both had a crush on the same person.”

he blinked. “wait. what?”

“it was you.” he stared at you, spoon halfway to his mouth, not moving. “i’m kidding,” you said, snorting. “he had a crush on someone else. i just liked you. he used to give me pep talks about it.”

sunghoon’s brain did not know what to do with that information. “so… you liked me back then?”

“yeah,” you said, chewing again. “obviously.”

he was quiet for a long second. then: “cool.”

you smiled at him, mouth full, and kicked his foot under the table. he kicked you back. and that was that.

the first time you and sunghoon went out with everyone again, it was a thursday night. which already made it feel less official, like no one could accuse anyone of being too romantic if it was a weeknight. you and sunghoon had been in your thing for a few weeks now, whatever it was. there still wasn’t a label. no one had said “we’re dating” or “we’re together.”

but he kissed you when he saw you. he held your hand while you scrolled through takeout menus. he stayed up late with you watching videos of frogs in tiny hats. you were his. i mean, probably. almost definitely. he just hadn’t said it out loud yet and neither had you. and now, somehow, you were going to a bar together like that wasn’t the most emotionally dangerous setting in the world.

sunghoon wasn’t nervous, exactly. but he also had no idea how he was supposed to act. was he supposed to sit next to you or leave a one-person buffer zone? was he allowed to have a hand on your back when you walked in, or was that too much? could he kiss your cheek in public? would that be weird? was not doing it weirder?

you, of course, didn’t seem to be thinking about any of this. you wore that skirt he liked. you stole one of his rings before you left the apartment and didn’t even say anything about it. you walked next to him like nothing was different. and for you, maybe it wasn’t. maybe this was all normal. maybe you were normal. sunghoon, meanwhile, was just trying not to look suspicious.

they got there a little late. jay and jungwon were already posted up at the booth like they'd been born there. jake was at the bar talking to someone who may or may not have been his date, or just someone he was bothering. heeseung was somewhere, probably emotionally observing the room from the shadows like he always did. and as soon as sunghoon and you walked in together, everyone looked up. they all did the same thing: that casual glance, followed by the silent smirk, followed by the overly casual “oh hey, you made it” that clearly meant oh hey, we know what’s going on here.

sunghoon didn’t react, just nodded once, tried to be cool. completely missed the chair when he went to sit down and had to pretend he meant to lean sideways.

jay knew. of course jay knew. jay had known before sunghoon even knew. jungwon knew because jay knew. jake knew because heeseung knew, and heeseung knew because heeseung knew everything. and now all of them knew. all of them were being polite about it, but they knew. the only people who didn’t know that everyone knew were you and sunghoon.

you sat next to him, thigh against his, arm slung casually over the back of the booth, like it was no big deal. like you did this all the time. and maybe you did, now. maybe this was your thing. but sunghoon still didn’t know where to put his hand. he settled for resting it on his leg, then moved it, then put it back. he wanted to put his arm around you. he just didn’t want to make it A Thing.

jay raised an eyebrow across the table, very subtle. sunghoon glared at him. you leaned over and whispered something about the drinks being overpriced and then rested your head against his shoulder for half a second like it was nothing. sunghoon felt every cell in his body shift three degrees to the left. he didn’t even hear what jay was saying. he was too busy pretending to be normal. jungwon looked like he wanted to say something. jake looked like he was writing fanfiction in his head.

someone made a toast. someone spilled something. someone brought fries to the table and you immediately took three and fed one to sunghoon without thinking about it, and that’s when he saw the look on jake’s face. pure glee. jake mouthed awww like a traitor. sunghoon blinked and looked at you. looked at the group and realized: they all knew. they were all just pretending not to know.

he looked down at his fry, chewed slowly. whispered, “we’re not being subtle, are we.”

you looked at him, smiled, and said, “do you want to be?”

he blinked again. “not really.”

you leaned in and kissed his cheek. sunghoon thought he might combust, but in a good way. and across the table, jay, jungwon, and jake all gave each other the most painfully smug looks sunghoon had ever seen. it didn’t matter, he didn’t care. you were still close, your hand was in his lap now. you were talking to heeseung like nothing was happening. sunghoon was still alive (probably). and whatever this thing was between you two, it wasn’t labeled yet. but it was something, and maybe that was enough for now.

you left the bar a little past midnight, not totally sober but not out of it either, that sweet spot where everything was a little funnier and a little louder and no one was ready to admit they were already tired. it wasn’t freezing out, but you still tugged on sunghoon’s sleeve like your arms didn’t work and said, “i’m cold. fix it.” so he handed you his jacket without hesitation, which you immediately put on and did not zip up, because apparently the rules of temperature didn’t apply to you. the sleeves covered your hands and the shoulders were too big and you looked stupidly good in it, which made sunghoon feel something deep in his chest he chose not to name.

you walked in silence for a few steps, close but not touching, until you bumped your hand into his once, twice, and then just took it like it was yours. which, at this point, it basically was. “so,” you said, casual, like you hadn’t already been curled up next to him in a booth for the last three hours, “you wanna come over?”

sunghoon blinked. “like… now?”

you raised an eyebrow. “no, next tuesday.”

he blinked again, because his brain had chosen violence and was now playing a full powerpoint presentation of possible meanings behind that sentence. he was trying very hard to be normal, to just smile and nod and say something charming, but instead he said, “uh-huh. okay. sure. i mean, unless you were just being polite and i—”

“sunghoon.”

“yep.”

“do you wanna come over?”

he nodded, fast. “yeah. yes. definitely.”

you grinned like you knew exactly what he was doing: spiraling, overanalyzing, trying to decide if “come over” meant snacks and a rerun or if it meant come over come over.

your place was a ten-minute walk, but it felt like thirty-five because sunghoon’s brain would not shut up. he wasn’t panicking, not really, but he also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this wasn’t just another hangout. something about the way you asked felt different. something about the way your hand kept tightening around his, like you were already thinking about where it would be once you got upstairs.

by the time you were at your door, you were still holding his hand and sunghoon’s heart was going fast enough that he had to pretend he wasn’t out of breath just from standing there. you unlocked the door and looked at him over your shoulder. “you coming in or are you just gonna stand there looking like you’re being peer pressured by a ghost.”

he stepped inside. “i’ve never been peer pressured by a ghost, for the record.”

you tossed your keys on the counter and kicked off your shoes. “there’s a first time for everything.”

he toed off his sneakers slower, trying to figure out where to stand, what to say, how to breathe like a functioning adult. you pulled off his jacket, handed it back to him, and then did that thing where you walked past him, brushing your hand across his lower back like it didn’t mean anything, even though it absolutely did.

he stared at the floor. then at the fridge. then at you, who was now grabbing two glasses and saying something about trying a new wine that tasted like “grape juice with peach” and he had no idea what it meant or what to do with his hands, or his mouth, or his entire existence. because the truth was: he liked you. he really really really liked you. and he’d been pretending not to want more, not to think about what it’d be like to stay over, to fall asleep next to you and wake up next to you and maybe never go home again. he’d been pretending it was casual. because pretending was safer, pretending didn’t risk messing anything up.

and now here you were, in your apartment, handing him a glass of bad wine and looking at him like you were waiting to see if he’d finally catch up. “you okay?” you asked, leaning against the counter, glass in hand, looking a little too pretty for someone under yellow kitchen lighting.

he cleared his throat. “me? yeah. totally fine. great. really calm.”

you tilted your head. “you sure?”

“yep.”

you walked over slowly, standing in front of him now, wine still in one hand, the other reaching up to brush the hair off his forehead. “you’re freaking out.”

“i’m not,” he said, eyes wide.

“you are.”

“i’m— okay, i’m slightly freaking out.”

you smiled and leaned in, close enough that your breath hit his neck. “wanna know a secret?”

“always,” he said, voice lower than he meant it to be, because everything about this moment was doing something strange to his brain.

you leaned in just a little more, like you were going to whisper something, and he instinctively tilted his head toward you, breath caught, waiting. “i’ve been thinking about kissing you all night,” you said, soft but direct, like you were telling him something about the weather. “like, not just kissing. you know.”

sunghoon froze for a second. not cartoon-style. just momentarily lost control of every muscle in his body. his first instinct was to deflect, make a joke, say something stupid. throw himself out the window, maybe. but he didn’t, not this time. because his second instinct — the real one, the one under all the fake calm — was to kiss you right now. fully and properly, like he hadn’t been holding back for weeks.

you raised an eyebrow, watching him short-circuit, and said, “too much?”

he shook his head. “no. i just. wow. okay.”

“you okay?” you asked again, but this time there was a small smile on your lips, and it was very clear you knew the answer.

he nodded. “yeah. i just wasn’t ready to hear that sentence. and now it’s all i’m hearing.”

you laughed a little and stepped even closer, your body brushing up against his. “do you want me to say it again?”

he swallowed hard. “maybe later.”

you bit your lip, not in a calculated way, just like it was a reflex, and something about that made something snap a little inside him. he set his glass down on the counter, gently, like he needed both hands for whatever was about to happen. then he looked at you and said, “i don’t really want to keep pretending i’m not into you in a completely embarrassing way.”

“good,” you said, fingers grazing the hem of his shirt now, slow, testing. “because i was getting kinda tired of pretending not to notice.”

he leaned in finally, mouth close to yours but not quite there yet, and asked, “so we’re not pretending anymore?”

“nah,” you whispered. “let’s be very real.”

and that’s when he kissed you. not like before, not soft or quick or questioning. this one was different. his hands were on your waist, pulling you in like he was done pretending you weren’t all he’d been thinking about. your hands slid up his chest and curled behind his neck, like you were grounding yourself. like you’d been waiting for this, too.

at some point, you mumbled something against his mouth — maybe his name, maybe just a sound — and he breathed out a quiet “god, you make me crazy” before he could even think about it.

you pulled back just slightly, eyes a little dazed, and said, “you’re gonna say stuff like that and then expect me to behave?”

“no,” he said, already leaning in again. “definitely not.”

you were backing him toward the hallway now, hand still tangled in his hair, mouth still on his, and every nerve in his body was firing off in every direction at once, but none of it felt panicked anymore. it just felt like finally. like this was where all of it had been leading: the late nights, the inside jokes, the pretending-not-to-care casual touches that had never really been casual at all.

sunghoon's back bumped softly into the wall and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. your body was pressed to his now, fully, and your mouth moved down to his jaw, then to the side of his neck, slow and unhurried, like you were trying to memorize the way he felt. his hands were on your waist, thumbs sliding under the hem of your shirt without meaning to, like they’d decided on their own that they wanted more. and the thing was, so did he. he wanted more. not just physically, though that was part of it. but everything, all of it. the way you looked at him like he was worth undivided attention, the way you touched him like you weren’t scared of what it meant, the way you weren’t hesitating now.

he had no idea what he was doing, not really. but it didn’t matter, not with the way your fingers had found their way under his shirt now too, trailing up his ribs like you were checking if he was real. he was starting to think he wasn’t. you leaned back just enough to look at him, your face close, breathing uneven. “you good?” you asked, voice low, teasing, but still somehow gentle.

he nodded, barely. “yeah. i just…” you waited, eyes flicking to his lips again, like you already knew what he was about to say. “i really want you,” he said, quiet but steady, “and i’m trying not to freak out about it.”

you smiled, something softer now, less teasing, and leaned in again, your mouth brushing his as you said, “then don’t.”

and he didn’t. he kissed you again, deeper this time, one hand sliding up your back, the other staying low on your waist, anchoring you to him. you pulled him away from the wall slowly, guiding him back toward your room with nothing but your body pressed into his and the way you kissed him like you’d been waiting just as long. his hands were shaking a little, but not in a bad way. in the way that came from finally letting go of all the restraint he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying.

you turned around once, just before stepping through the door, and looked at him, not playful this time, not challenging, just full of whatever this was between you. then you pulled him in by the front of his shirt, and he followed, heart pounding, completely undone by how easy it felt to say yes to you.

he followed you into the room, one of his hands went straight to your waist, pulling you in again, and the other slid into your hair like he was finally done pretending he didn’t want to touch you like this. you looked up at him, mouth parted, breathing a little uneven now, like maybe you weren’t expecting him to get like this, not this sure of himself. “you okay?” he asked, echoing your earlier words, voice low now and just barely smug. “you’re looking a little... distracted.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard for half a second. “you think you’re funny now?”

“no,” he said, fingers slipping under the back of your shirt as he leaned in, “i think i’m winning.”

you didn’t say anything. just kissed him again, rougher this time, like you were challenging him to keep up, and he did. he moved with you, pressed into you, kissed you back like he finally knew he could. he walked you backward without breaking the kiss, hands firm on your waist, pushing you gently until your legs hit the edge of the bed. you sat first, pulling him down with you, and he smiled against your mouth as you tugged at his shirt like you were losing patience.

“you’ve been thinking about this too, huh?” he murmured against your throat, voice dark and teasing, lips brushing that spot right under your jaw that made your knees weak. you didn’t answer, just mouthed at his neck in retaliation. he chuckled. “yeah,” he whispered. “me too. been losing my mind over you.”

“shut up,” you said, though your hands were already sliding under the hem of his shirt.

“make me,” he said, and you actually laughed, this breathless, surprised sound that turned into a half-moan when his mouth found that spot below your jaw you didn’t even know was there. he pulled back for a second, just long enough to look at you. your hair was a little messy, your lips were red, your hands were still on him, and he couldn’t believe he’d spent so many nights trying to act casual about you.

and sunghoon — who had once nearly passed out just from you holding his hand at wendy’s — now had you under him, fingers teasing at your waistband, mouth trailing along your collarbone, fully lost in the way you were looking at him like you wanted everything at once.

you shifted under him, hips tilting up slightly. his hands were more confident now, not just hovering or tracing but gripping, like he didn’t want to miss any part of you. one hand slid up under your shirt, palm warm against your stomach, and he felt you tense just a little, then relax into it completely.

you tugged him closer, thighs parting so he could fit between them, and he fit there like he belonged, grinding down slowly, testing. your breath hitched, nails digging into his shoulders, and that did something to him. he groaned quietly, not on purpose, and you caught it. your fingers were in his hair again, tugging a little now, and he swore under his breath when your teeth grazed his bottom lip. your shirt was pushed up now, not off yet, but enough for his hands to explore, and his mouth followed the trail — slow kisses down your neck, then across your chest, lingering just long enough to make you arch into him. your breath hitched again, and he looked up at you, completely gone.

“tell me if you want me to stop,” he said, serious for a second, low and right against your skin.

you shook your head. “don’t.”

your hands were under his shirt now, greedy and warm, and he let out a shaky breath as you slid them up his back. “fuck,” he muttered. “you feel so good—better than i ever imagined.” he kissed you again, hungrier this time, like he wanted to memorize your mouth. “you’re so fucking pretty, y/n. can’t believe i get to touch you.”

your shirt was off now, just tugged over your head and dropped somewhere behind you, and sunghoon stared for maybe a second longer than he meant to. not out of shock, but because he couldn’t believe you were real. that this was real. that this was actually happening. and then you reached for the hem of his shirt, fingers cool against his stomach, and that was it, he was done pretending he had a single functioning thought left in his head.

he let you pull it over his head, arms moving clumsily, breath already shallow. your hands were on his skin before the fabric even hit the floor, sliding up over his chest, across his shoulders, and he had to physically stop himself from just collapsing into you. you bit your lip when his hips rolled into yours again, slower this time, like he was testing the friction. your breath caught, and you arched into him without thinking. “hoon…”

his whole body shuddered when you said his name like that. “god, you sound so good,” he breathed. “you don’t even know what you do to me.” his hands were back on your waist now, warm and grounding, and he kissed you again, slower, sweeter, like he wanted to savor the taste of you. “you’re not gonna get rid of me after this, you know,” he whispered into your mouth. “not after i’ve had you like this.”

you smiled a little, breathless. “who said i wanted to get rid of you?”

that made him pause for a second, just to look at you again, like he couldn’t believe this was really happening. “jesus,” he muttered. “you’re gonna ruin me.”

you pulled him down for another kiss, hands slipping lower, dragging your fingers across the waistband of his pants. he groaned when your palm brushed over him through the fabric, hips twitching like he couldn’t help it. “fuck, baby,” he hissed, “you’re making it really hard to be gentle.”

“then don’t be.”

he let out this low, disbelieving laugh like you’d just told him the best secret in the world. tugging your skirt and panties down, he kissed his way along your hips and lower, dragging his mouth over your skin like he was savoring you already. “every part of you… perfect,” he whispered, eyes flicking up just once to see your chest rising, lips parted. “i wanna touch you everywhere.”

and he meant it. his hands were warm and steady, spreading over your thighs, your waist, your stomach, exploring you like you were something rare. he took his time, like he’d waited too long to rush now, brushing his fingers gently along your inner thigh, coaxing goosebumps to rise under his touch. you were already shivering with anticipation when he kissed the inside of your knee, then higher, then higher again.

you whimpered, hips lifting involuntarily, and he kissed down your stomach slowly, lips dragging over your skin like a promise. his hands settled on your thighs, thumbs stroking gently over the soft skin there. then he paused, and his eyes flicked up to yours, darker now, but still so soft.

“can i taste you?” he asked, voice quiet but low with need. “please, baby. i need it.” your breath caught. your fingers threaded through his hair almost instinctively as you nodded, thighs parting just a little in silent answer. “yeah?” he breathed, kissing the inside of your thigh. “you’ll let me take care of you?”

“yes,” you whispered, already trembling. “sunghoon, please.”

he groaned, like that was all he needed to hear. “thank you,” he murmured, kissing higher. “gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.”

and then his mouth was on you, tongue sliding between your folds with that slow, deliberate stroke, and your whole body jolted under him.

“fuck—so sweet,” he groaned, his voice muffled against you. his fingers came up to part you gently, spreading you open so he could really taste you. “you’re unreal, baby. can you feel how wet you are for me?”

you gasped, back arching, one hand gripping the sheets while the other tangled in his hair like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. he groaned again when you tugged, clearly enjoying every reaction he pulled from you. he licked into you like he was starved for it, slow at first, methodical, dragging his tongue in long strokes and humming low when your thighs tensed around his shoulders. then, when he sucked your clit into his mouth, you cried out, hips bucking off the bed, and he held you down firmly, not letting up for a second.

“that’s it,” he said against you, his breath hot and his tone ragged. “so fucking good for me.”

you couldn’t even speak, just moaned and gasped, feeling your whole body coil tighter and tighter as he kept working you over with that perfect mouth. your thighs were trembling now, breath shaky, every nerve strung taut. he reached up, lacing your fingers with his, grounding you just as the pressure tipped over into something explosive. “come for me,” he murmured, voice low and coaxing. “let me have it.”

and you did. you shattered beneath him, shaking, your body clenching and curling in on itself as the orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and overwhelming. you called his name, half gasp, half cry, pulling at his hair with one hand and squeezing his hand tight with the other. your body stuttered, hips twitching, thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t stop until your whimpers turned desperate, overstimulated and wrecked.

“okay,” you panted, tugging weakly at his shoulder. “okay—hoon—please…”

he finally pulled back, lips shiny, cheeks flushed, and eyes completely wild with awe. he looked like he’d just seen god, and maybe he had. you. unraveling for him, only for him. “you’re…” he started, voice rough as he crawled back up your body, kissing your stomach, your chest, your throat, your jaw. “you’re fucking perfect. i’ve never—never wanted someone like this.”

you cupped his face as he hovered over you, and he leaned into your touch instantly, forehead pressed to yours, his breathing still ragged, like he couldn’t believe any of this was real. “you don’t even know what you do to me,” he whispered, voice hoarse and low. “i’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.”

you kissed him again, slower this time, your fingers brushing through his hair, and he deepened it with a quiet groan, like he needed to taste you to keep himself grounded. when he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his eyes were wild and soft all at once, like he was overwhelmed by you. “feel that?” he murmured, pressing his hips down against yours. “you make me this fucking desperate, baby.”

you gasped when he rolled his hips again, perfectly slow, perfectly cruel. “can still taste you on my lips,” he said, kissing you once more. “i want you to taste it too.” the kiss this time was messier and you could feel yourself melting into it. he kissed you like he wanted you ruined, like he needed you wrecked and shaking and breathless. and you were close already, so close again from just that, from the way he said your name like a secret prayer.

“turn over for me,” he whispered suddenly, voice dipped in reverence. you did, your body trembling a little with anticipation as you shifted onto your stomach, heart racing. he traced your spine with his fingers, slow and deliberate, until both hands settled at your waist. “you’re unreal,” he whispered, and he meant it. “do you know that? the way you sound, the way you feel… i could lose my mind just looking at you.”

he leaned down then, mouth brushing the back of your shoulder, trailing kisses down your spine as his hands slid down, thumbs spreading gently over your hips like he was committing every inch of you to memory. “you drive me crazy,” he murmured. “every time you look at me, every time you laugh… fuck, i’m so gone for you.”

and when he kissed the back of your thigh, slow and lingering, you felt it everywhere, like heat blooming under your skin. “let me take my time with you,” he said, kissing his way back up. “wanna make you feel good. wanna make you remember this.”

you could only nod, breath caught in your throat, hands fisting the sheets beneath you. because sunghoon didn’t just want to touch you, he wanted to worship you. his hands smoothed over your hips, firm but reverent, as he bent down, pressing a kiss to the base of your spine. “you’re shaking,” he murmured, voice laced with awe. “still so sensitive, aren’t you?” you nodded, cheek pressed to the sheets, body already reacting to the weight of his touch. “but you’re taking it so well,” he whispered, one hand sliding between your thighs, coaxing them apart again. “you’re such a good girl for me.”

you gasped when his fingers found you, already soaked, still fluttering from the last time. “look at this,” he groaned, dragging his fingers through the slick mess he left behind. “this pretty little pussy just begging for more.”

you whined, pressing back against his hand without even meaning to, and he chuckled low behind you. “you want it again?” he asked, voice almost gentle. “need me to make you feel good, baby?”

“yes,” you breathed. “please.”

that was all he needed. he leaned down again, kissing the swell of your ass before spreading you open with both hands. and then he dipped his head, tongue sliding between your folds. you cried out, hips jolting, the sudden pleasure overwhelming. he groaned, licking you from behind like he was starving for it. you buried your face into the mattress, fingers clawing at the sheets, the stretch of your body making every sensation sharper.

his hands gripped your thighs as his mouth worked you open all over again, licking and sucking with the kind of desperation that made your knees weak. and then his hand slid under you, fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit as his mouth stayed on you, wet and relentless.

“that fucking pussy tastes so good,” he praised, voice breathless. “give it to me again. wanna feel you come on my tongue, baby.”

you were already spiraling, the pressure building fast and hot, your whole body wound so tight you could barely breathe. “fuck, sunghoon—i’m—”

and you did, again. shaking, crying out, your body going completely still before collapsing into tremors, overwhelmed by the heat of his mouth and the soft, dirty praise spilling from his lips. he didn’t stop until you were whimpering, twitching under him, begging him to stop, begging him to keep going, you couldn’t even tell anymore.

when he finally pulled back, panting, mouth glistening, he kissed your lower back and whispered: “you’re fucking perfect. i’m not done with you yet.”

he watches you as you turn over slowly, still catching your breath, your skin flushed and glowing, hair sticking to your forehead in messy strands. you’re a vision, wrecked and beautiful, lips swollen, eyes glassy, your chest rising and falling like you’ve just survived something holy. his gaze drags over you, slow, reverent, like he doesn’t know where to look first. like he wants to worship everything.

“fuck,” he breathes. “look at you…” you blink up at him, dazed and buzzing, legs still trembling from the last time he pulled you apart. his hands settle on your waist, grounding you. his thumb rubs soft circles into your skin like he’s easing you back into your body, not rushing, just feeling you.

“can i?” he asks, voice low and hoarse. there’s something almost shy in the way he says it, like he’s trying not to ruin the moment, like despite everything, he still needs to be sure you want this too.

you nod once, still breathless. “yeah,” you whisper. “please.”

his pupils darken, breath stuttering in his chest. the way you say please, oh, he could fall to his knees again just from that. he kisses you, slow at first, deep, aching, his tongue brushing yours like he’s trying to memorize your taste. and then it turns hungry, hands gripping your face like he can’t believe he gets to touch you, like he doesn’t want to come up for air. “you’re everything,” he murmurs against your lips, voice shaky. “i mean it—everything. i wanna make you feel so fucking good again.”

you let out the softest whimper, and that’s all he needs. he kisses down your jaw, your neck, between your breasts, leaves open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, taking his time. he’s not in a rush, he wants to savor you. his hand trails down, fingers brushing your inner thigh, and you part your legs for him instinctively. you’re still so sensitive, every little touch making you twitch, your hips lifting up to meet him. “this pretty pussy’s still so wet,” he groans, almost in disbelief. “you’re unreal, baby.”

his fingers slip between your folds again, dragging through the mess he made earlier, and you let out a gasp, hand flying to his wrist. “shh,” he soothes, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “i got you. just wanna make you feel good. let me take care of you, yeah?”

you nod, lips parted, already melting under his touch. he kisses you again, messy and hot, and then without warning he slides two fingers in deep, curling them just right. your mouth falls open in a silent cry, hips jerking. “that’s it,” he praises. “fuck, i love how you take me. your pussy is clinching around my fingers, baby.”

his fingers keep working you open, his mouth back on your neck, sucking dark marks into your skin like he wants to leave proof that he was here. and just when you think you’re going to fall apart again, he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “you’re mine, right?” he asks, voice like gravel. “please say it, baby”

“i’m yours,” you breathe, and it comes out shaky, desperate.

he groans like he’s losing his mind. “good girl.”

his body hovered over yours, warm and steady, and when your eyes met, something shifted, like the air grew heavier, thick with everything you both had been holding back. he kissed you like a thank you, like a silent prayer, like he couldn’t believe you were real and his all at once. then he leaned back on his knees, eyes locked on yours as he brought his hands down to the waistband of his jeans. he popped the button open with a quiet click, dragging the zipper down slow, teasing, but there was a kind of quiet urgency in his movements too, like he couldn’t wait another second to feel you again.

when he pushed his jeans and boxers down, your breath caught. he was big. thick and flushed and perfect, tip already leaking, heavy against his stomach. your mouth went dry, heat curling low in your belly as you stared, he was so pretty it almost hurt, like every inch of him was made to ruin you.

his eyes watched your face carefully, catching the shift in your expression. “yeah?” he rasped, cock twitching under your gaze. “you like what you see, baby?”

you nodded before you could think, heart hammering, thighs already pressing together. “you’re perfect,” you whispered, almost breathless.

his lips parted at that, something dark and tender flickering behind his eyes. he leaned in, hand wrapping around himself as he hovered over you again, dragging his tip through your slick folds, slow and deliberate, teasing your entrance. “fuck,” he murmured, voice ragged. “say you want me, please.”

“i want you,” you breathed, hips lifting. “hoon—i need you.”

he groaned like the sound of your voice broke something in him. and when he finally sank into you, slow, deliberate, like he wanted to feel every inch of you claiming him back, it stole the air from your lungs. he bottomed out with a shudder, forehead pressed against yours, hand cupping your jaw like he needed the grounding just as much as you did.

his tip presses in first, thick and hot, and even though your body is already soaked and aching for him, the stretch is still overwhelming. your walls flutter around him, trying to pull him deeper, but he takes his time. his hands grip your hips, grounding you as he inches in further, every slow push making your body arch and your breath catch. “fuck—baby,” he chokes, eyes fluttering shut as he feels the way you clench around him. “you feel so good… so tight. taking me so perfectly.”

you can barely hold still. your fingers grip his lower back, your mouth falls open, and a moan tears from your throat, raw, needy, helpless. he leans down, chest brushing yours, and presses soft kisses along your collarbone, whispering into your skin between every word like a prayer. “you’re unreal. unreal, baby. fuck—”

your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him in further, and he groans deep and guttural, like he’s losing control. the last inch pushes in slow, your bodies finally fully connected, the heat between you almost unbearable. you both go still for a second, breath mingling, your hearts racing in sync. your walls flutter around him again, adjusting, and his forehead drops to yours. “you okay?” he breathes, voice wrecked, like it’s taking everything in him not to move.

you nod, eyes glazed. “so full,” you whisper. “feels so good.”

he groans softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “yeah? i’m gonna take care of you, pretty girl. i promise.”

and when he finally starts to move slowly, with deep thrusts that drag against your most sensitive spots, you swear you see stars. his hips roll into yours with precision, his body fitting against you like he was built for this, for you. every stroke hits just right, every whispered praise against your cheek making you melt further into the mattress.

“you’re doing so good,” he pants. “taking me so well. your fucking pussy feels so fucking good around my cock, baby.”

you reached for him with shaking hands, fingers sliding into his hair, pulling him up to meet your mouth in a hungry kiss. he groaned when your tongue slid against his, his body still trembling from the last time you came undone under him. but this time, you weren’t just going to take. you wanted to give back, to feel him fall apart for you too.

“lay back, hoon,” you whispered against his lips, voice still wrecked and sweet. “let me ride you.”

his eyes widened slightly, dark and heavy with heat, but he nodded, eager, desperate, completely at your mercy. he sank into the pillows, breath stuttering when you straddled his hips and reached between your bodies to guide him in. you both gasped at the stretch, the slick slide of him filling you again. but now it was your rhythm, your pace. slow at first, grounding yourself on his chest as you rocked your hips forward, letting him feel all of you. his hands gripped your thighs, mouth open in a silent moan as he looked up at you like he was watching something holy.

“fuck, baby,” he breathed. “you feel—jesus, you feel perfect.”

you rolled your hips again, a little faster, loving the way his voice cracked, the way his fingers dug deeper into your skin. his head fell back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut, and you leaned down to kiss along his throat, his collarbone, your name falling from his lips like a prayer. “look at me, hoon,” you whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth. “wanna see your face when you fall apart.”

he did, eyes locking with yours, glassy and wild and reverent all at once. “keep going,” he begged, barely coherent. “just like that. you’re so good. keep riding me, baby. i’m not gonna last.”

you smiled, breathless, sweat-slicked skin sticking to his as you kept moving, kept grinding, kept giving him everything. and when his hips bucked up and he cried out your name like it was the only word he remembered, you knew you had him, ruined and wrecked and completely yours. “please, baby, i need,” he begged, barely coherent. “let me cum inside you, fuck— i need to fill you up, princess.”

you smiled and nodded, breathless, sweat-slicked skin sticking to his as you kept moving, grinding down on him with a rhythm that had both of you teetering on the edge. his hands roamed your body like he couldn’t get enough, gripping your hips, sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing over your ribs. like he needed to memorize you. “fuck, look at you,” he groaned, eyes locked on where your bodies met. “riding me so good. taking me so deep. this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it?”

you nodded, dazed, moaning as you bounced harder, chasing the high that was coiling tight in your belly again. and he didn’t stop talking, not for a second. “you feel that, baby? how tight you are around me? fuck, i’m losing it,” he breathed, voice rough and reverent. “you’re gonna make me cum inside you, such a good girl, fuck!”

you leaned down, kissed him hard, swallowing the broken sounds spilling from his mouth. he kissed you back like he needed it to breathe, tongue desperate, hands sliding up to cup your face. you were already there, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, body shaking from how deep he was hitting, how full he made you feel. and when you clenched around him again, when your orgasm hit with dizzying force, he lost it with you, hips stuttering, hands gripping your ass as he came with a strangled moan, burying his face in your neck while he filled you up.

you held each other, trembling, hearts racing. you were still catching your breath, chest heaving, skin slick with sweat, when he slid out of you, slow and careful, like he didn’t want to let you go just yet. you barely had time to whimper at the sudden emptiness before he was shifting, lying back against the pillows with a look in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

“come here,” he murmured, voice hoarse, one hand trailing down your spine. you blinked at him, legs weak, but then he grinned, lazy and wicked, and pulled you up gently by the hips. “wanna taste you like this,” he said, guiding you forward until your thighs were straddling his face. “wanna feel the mess you made all over me.”

your breath caught. “sunghoon—”

“shh,” he whispered, eyes dark and blown wide. “you’ve been so good for me. let me be good for you now.”

he didn’t wait for permission this time. his hands gripped your thighs and pulled you down onto his mouth like he’d been starving for it. his tongue was filthy, flat and firm and everywhere, licking you clean, then messy again, kissing and sucking and moaning against your skin like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

you cried out, hips rolling without thought, thighs trembling around his head. and he took it, wanted it, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you steady. “fuck—sunghoon,” you gasped, one hand in his hair, the other braced on the headboard.

he groaned into you, the sound vibrating through your core. “that’s it, baby. ride my face. come on—fuckin’ use me.”

your thighs shook harder with every swipe of his tongue, every slick, obscene noise echoing in the room, and when he closed his mouth around your clit and sucked just right, your whole body went rigid. and when he pressed his nose around your clit and held your hips and made you grind around his face, oh god, you lost it. “that’s it,” he murmured, breathless and soaked, licking you through it. “come all over my face, baby. let me feel you fall apart again.”

and you did again. and again. until your body gave out, and you collapsed into him, trembling, boneless, his arms around your waist, kissing your thighs like they were sacred.

“you’re unreal,” he whispered, voice thick with awe. “how the fuck did i get so lucky?”

his grip softened as he felt you tremble above him, and when you finally started to come down, your thighs still quivering around his face, he slowed. but his mouth didn’t stop. he kept kissing you with soft, kitten licks, gentle, rhythmic, like he was savoring every last drop of you. little hums vibrated against your skin as he pressed sweet, worshipful kisses between your folds, almost lazy now, like he was calming you down with his tongue.

you gasped softly, too sensitive, your hips twitching with every warm, delicate lick. “can’t get enough of you,” he whispered against your heat, nuzzling between your thighs. “you taste like heaven, baby.”

he let go of your waist just enough to guide you off him, helping you lie down on the mattress with shaky limbs. and then, slow, almost reverent, he climbed over you. he kissed your inner thighs first, lips soft and warm and open. then the swell of your hips, your stomach, your ribs. each kiss was slow and full of something deeper, like he was memorizing you now, not just your body but you, soaking in every inch.

“my pretty girl,” he murmured against your skin. “my favorite thing in the world.”

his mouth reached your chest, kissing over your heart, then up the column of your throat, slow and smiling. by the time he reached your lips again, your eyes were already fluttering shut, your body humming with warmth. he kissed you sweetly, lovingly. no rush. just the kind of kiss that said you’re mine, i’ve got you, i’m still here. and when you sighed into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair again, he whispered, “i want to make you so happy.”

you were both lying there, still breathing a little unevenly, not quite ready to move. the room was warm in that quiet, post-everything way. your leg was draped over his without thinking, one of his hands resting on your stomach, steady now, grounding. the other hovered in the space between your ribs and your hip, like he wanted to touch more of you but didn’t want to push anything too far than he already did.

and sunghoon wasn’t staring on purpose, he just couldn’t stop looking at you. your hair was messy. your skin was warm. you had that look on your face like you were pretending to be calm but weren’t. and he couldn’t stop replaying the last hour in his head, not even the specifics, just the fact that it happened. it happened, you happened, with him.

you wanted him. he couldn’t believe it. because this wasn’t some almost. this wasn’t a flirty text or a maybe-lingered hug or a “did that mean something?” moment. this was real, it happened. you were here in his arms. naked. smiling. breathing slow. and the truth was — it was the best thing that had happened to him in a long, long time.

not just the sex. that was insane, amazing. unfair, honestly. but it was more than that. it was how close you let him be. it was the way you looked at him like he wasn’t just some guy. like you’d been waiting for him just as much as he’d been waiting for you. and he was trying to memorize it all. the heat of your skin under his hand. the curve of your smile when you caught him staring. the weight of your leg over his, like you weren’t planning to go anywhere.

you turned your head toward him, cheek pressed into the pillow, eyes still lazy and soft. “you’re staring.”

he blinked. “no i’m not.”

“you literally are.”

he swallowed, trying not to smile. “okay. yeah. but respectfully.”

you raised an eyebrow. “what does that even mean?”

“means i’m just... taking it all in,” he said, quieter now. “i don’t know. trying to make sure this wasn’t a dream or something.”

you didn’t laugh at that. you didn’t roll your eyes or change the subject. you just looked at him, and he looked at you, and for once, he didn’t say anything else. because for the first time in a long time, everything he wanted was already here. and he wasn’t gonna miss a single second of it.

so he shrugged, face somehow more relaxed than you’d ever seen it. “just means i’m admiring you without being weird about it.”

“you just called me your favorite thing in the world like five minutes ago.”

“and i meant it,” he said, no hesitation. “top tier. no notes.”

you smiled, then looked up at the ceiling. “this is weird.”

sunghoon blinked. “like... weird in a good way or weird like we should never do this again and i should move to another country?”

“no, dumbass.” you laughed. “like weird that this actually happened,” you said. “we’ve been circling each other forever and now we’ve crossed into, like, very naked territory.”

he turned onto his side to look at you properly, propping himself up on one elbow. “you say that like i wasn’t already fully in love with you the second you stole my last fry that one night.”

you laughed, soft and tired, and scooted closer. “you’re such a dumbass.”

“i contain multitudes,” he said, smiling.

you leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, just because it was there. just because you could now. after a few quiet seconds, he added, “i also might’ve... rehearsed stuff. in my head. like this. this whole night. not, like, in a creepy way. just. i thought about it a lot.”

“how much is ‘a lot’?”

“you don’t wanna know.”

you looked at him, eyes narrowing. “sunghoon.”

“like... entire imaginary scenarios,” he said, face slightly red now, voice muffled as he dropped back onto the pillow. “dialogue included. you said very flattering things in my head, by the way.” you started laughing, trying to muffle it into his shoulder, and he groaned. “this is the worst post-sex confession in history.”

“no, this is peak you,” you said. “romantic and slightly unhinged.”

“you make me unhinged,” he muttered, then covered his face with one hand. “i’m never speaking again.”

you reached over, peeled his hand away, and kissed his cheek. “don’t worry. you already said everything right.” he went quiet after that, just looking at you again, softer now. less flirty. more like he couldn’t believe you were real. you held the look for a second, then nudged him again. “also, i still can’t believe your pokémon username is shadyhoon420.”

“why would you bring that up now,” he whispered, betrayed.

“because you just made me see god and now i’m ready enough to bully you again.”

he groaned again, dragging the blanket up over his face. you laughed and curled into his side anyway, and even though he was pretending to be dramatic, his arm pulled you in without hesitation. and that was how you stayed. warm, tangled, slightly wrecked, and fully, unapologetically into each other.

the week after was weird. not in a bad way, just different. like, sunghoon hadn’t really planned what came after sleeping with you. his brain had mostly stopped at oh my god it’s happening, and never got around to figuring out what do i do now that it did. turns out: what he did was text you every morning like he hadn’t just seen you eight hours ago. send you playlists like he hadn’t already made three for you. randomly show up with coffee and snacks like he wasn’t trying to see you again that night anyway.

he was down bad. and he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.

he came over two days later with your favorite ice cream. not because you asked, not even because you hinted. just because he passed a convenience store and thought, she likes that one with the caramel stuff, i should get that. you answered the door in pajama shorts and one sock, took the ice cream, kissed his cheek, and said “you’re so obsessed with me” like it was a joke, but he just said “yeah” and followed you inside like it was true. because it was.

he slept over again that night. and the night after that. and the one after that. and by monday, all his stuff was still technically at his place, but his phone charger, his cologne, and three pairs of socks had somehow migrated to your apartment. you made fun of him for the socks, and he said it was “for emergency purposes,” which didn’t even make sense, but you let it slide.

you, on the other hand, got more chaotic just in a very you way. you started kissing him in the middle of sentences. reaching under his hoodie in the middle of a movie. you’d say stuff like “should we go to bed?” with your hand already halfway down his back, and when he asked “to sleep?” you’d just grin and walk off like you’ll see.

you also started calling him ridiculous things in front of other people. “my man,” “baby,” “loverboy.” jay almost choked on his drink when you casually said “sunghoonie, pass me that” in the middle of a group hang. sunghoon blinked three times in a row and handed you the drink without speaking.

you were reckless with it. you sat in his lap at his apartment like it was a chair. held his hand in public. bit his earlobe once while he was trying to explain something about pokémon raids and ruined his entire train of thought. he was spiraling, but, like, happily.

he said “i like you” at least twice a day, sometimes for no reason. he told you your hair looked nice even when it didn’t. he got quieter whenever you wore his clothes but didn’t take them back. once, when you said “you’re kinda clingy now, huh,” he just said “yeah. sorry. can’t stop.”

you didn’t mind. you teased him constantly but kissed him just as much. called him ridiculous but curled into him every night. and when he said “i think i like this version of us,” you said “me too,” and kissed the corner of his mouth like you planned to stay that close for a while. maybe longer.

sunghoon had been thinking about asking you to be his proper girlfriend for, like, a week and a half. well, technically longer. emotionally since day one. but officially? yeah, one and a half weeks of pure, uninterrupted chaos in his brain. the problem wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask you. the problem was that he wanted it too much. he wanted to do it right. he wanted it to be special, but not cringe. romantic, but not too much. surprising, but not out of nowhere. he didn’t want to scare you. but he also didn’t want you to think he was casual about this. he wasn’t. he was emotionally unwell about it, actually.

so, naturally, he did the worst possible thing: he asked jay for advice.

they were at their place, sitting on the floor, jay had just beaten him at mario kart for the third time and was in his usual post-victory smug mode when sunghoon blurted out, “do you think now’s too soon to ask her to be my girlfriend?”

jay blinked. “you literally sleep over at her place more than your own.”

“i know, but, like... we haven’t said anything. there’s been no official label. it’s like... unofficially official.”

jay stared. “sunghoon. you watched her floss her teeth while you sat on the counter eating cereal and telling her she looked cute. it’s not unofficial.”

“yeah, but what if she thinks it’s too soon?”

“too soon for what? be so fucking for real, bro.”

sunghoon groaned and flopped backwards onto the floor. “i can’t just casually be like ‘hey do you wanna be my girlfriend’ while we’re ordering chicken nuggets or something.”

“why not?”

“because this is the most important relationship of my life and i want it to sound like i’m not twelve.”

jay, full of support and zero delicacy, said, “then don’t say it while you’re ordering chicken nuggets.”

sunghoon glared at the ceiling. “useless.”

still, he spent the next few days trying to figure it out. he made a mental list of possible locations. cafes were too noisy. your apartment was too... your apartment. the bar had too many witnesses. he considered writing it down. he considered saying it in a whisper and pretending it slipped out. he considered doing nothing and just dying instead.

then it happened on a wednesday. you were walking out of a little local bookstore you dragged him into, laughing at something he said, your hand linked with his like it belonged there. the woman behind the counter, older, smiley, had said, “you two are cute. your boyfriend’s so patient.”

you laughed, still flipping through the book you bought. “i know, right?”

you didn’t correct her. you did not correct her. sunghoon short-circuited for a solid five seconds. he tried to keep walking like a normal person, but his grip on your hand got a little tighter, and his brain was already in full meltdown mode.

boyfriend. she said boyfriend. and you didn’t say oh no, we’re not dating, or oh, we’re just hanging out, or he just follows me around like a sad dog. you agreed, you claimed him. it counts. it totally counts.

he waited a whole five minutes before blurting out, “so. about that boyfriend comment.”

you glanced up. “what about it?”

“you didn’t, like... correct her.”

you tilted your head. “should i have?”

he blinked. “i mean... no. no, not if you didn’t want to.”

“i didn’t,” you said simply.

sunghoon’s brain made a sound like dial-up internet for a second. he swallowed. “cool. yeah. just checking.”

you stopped walking and looked at him. “wait. is that— were you trying to ask me something just now?”

“what? no.” he paused. “yes. maybe.”

you smiled. “sunghoon.”

“okay, yes. yes,” he said, running a hand through his hair and suddenly regretting everything he’d ever said to jay. “i’ve been trying to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend for, like, ten business days. but i kept spiraling. and then you didn’t correct that lady and i had a full-body reaction.”

you laughed, leaning into him slightly. “you could’ve just asked me.”

“i know, but i like you so much that my brain stopped working and i didn’t want to mess it up.”

“you think calling me your ‘favorite thing in the world’ before asking me to date you wasn’t already kind of intense?”

“i blacked out that night. i don’t remember saying that.”

“you did.”

“okay. good. just making sure i’m consistent.”

you leaned in and kissed his cheek, still smiling. “sunghoon, obviously i want to be your girlfriend.”

he blinked. “really?”

“yes.”

he hesitated, eyes narrowing like he’d just remembered something haunting. “even after finding out that i was your sworn enemy on pokémon go for, like, four months?”

you started laughing immediately. “you mean when you admitted you were shadyhoon420, the gremlin who stole my gym every tuesday at 3 a.m.?”

“i was fighting for my honor,” he said, dead serious.

you grinned. “and now we’re dating. weird plot twist.”

he smiled, a little crooked. “great plot twist.”

you squeezed his hand again, leaned your head on his shoulder as you walked, and said, “don’t worry, boyfriend. i forgive your crimes.”

sunghoon was never recovering from being called “boyfriend” out loud. he almost tripped on the sidewalk. he grinned, slightly dazed, like someone who just won the lottery but doesn’t know where to cash it in. you grabbed his hand again and kept walking, like it was already decided. and honestly, it kind of was.

you ended up at his place that night. neither of you really said it out loud, but that was kind of the routine now. he still pretended he needed to “grab something” from his apartment just to have an excuse to follow you around his kitchen while you made popcorn. you still pretended to ask if you were staying over when you both knew your toothbrush had lived there for two weeks. he let you steal his hoodie again. you let him kiss you every time he walked past you, which was often, because he kept “forgetting things” in the living room. at some point you both crashed on the couch with your legs over his and his head resting against yours, some episode of how i met your mother playing in the background.

he was barely listening. you weren’t either. it was just there, familiar and comfortable. then, somewhere between the episode where ted steals the blue french horn and barney pretending to have a fake job at a bank, you turned to him and said, “you know what the best part of this is?”

“the popcorn?”

“okay, second best.”

“me?”

“third best.”

he laughed, nudged your knee with his. “okay, what’s the best part?”

you turned to face him fully, your chin resting on your hand now, your expression weirdly serious but also like you were holding back a laugh. “one day,” you said, “i’m gonna tell our kids this whole story. the gyms. the snacks. the pokémon betrayal. all of it.”

he blinked. “kids?”

“future,” you added quickly. “far future. relax. no one’s getting pregnant during a rerun of season three.”

“okay. just making sure.”

you grinned. “and when i tell them, i’m gonna look them in the eyes and say: and that, kids, is how i met sunghoon.”

he stared at you, then he burst out laughing, then he kissed you. and when he pulled back, smiling like he couldn’t help it, hoodie half falling off your shoulder, popcorn completely forgotten on the floor, he said, “you’re so annoying.”

you leaned into his side. “you’re obsessed with me.”

he kissed your forehead. “yeah,” he said. “i really, really am.”

and that was that. no big speech. no sweeping declarations. no fireworks or dramatic music or anything you’d write into a script. just two slightly ridiculous people, curled up on a too-small couch, limbs tangled in the kind of way that only happens when you’ve stopped pretending to need personal space, one of them wearing a hoodie that never belonged to them in the first place, both of them halfway through a rewatch of a sitcom about love and fate and timing, while very quietly, and maybe without fully realizing it, living proof of all those things was sitting right there beside them.

and that, kids… is how you met sunghoon.

author’s note: okayyyyy i wrote this as a little gift for my best friend aka my sister, and it’s actually the first time i’ve written for sunghoon since nicest guy (which feels kinda wild) andddd i’ve always loved how i met your mother!!! my fav show everrrr nd i wanted to write something that felt like that yk just full of funny warm happy momentssssss nothing too heavy, just soft and slow-burn feelings hehe i hope you enjoyed it as much as i loved writing it ♡

my masterlist // perma taglist: @rairaiblog @nqdirr @iyoonjh @saeris-world @jayparked @solonenova @izzyy-stuff

© all rights reserved @/heejamas — do not repost, copy, translate, or modify my works without explicit permission. these are works of fiction and are not meant to represent real-life actions, thoughts, or personalities of any public figures

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smmulllll · 17 hours ago

Text

Oh my lord

I cried more than I thought I would 😭 I normally don't do the whole step-cest relationship thing but this was so well written

The Domino effect of both their stories and how they both needed one another

The line of "did you want a boyfriend or a father" I had to put my phone down and reevaluate my life 😭

I felt diagnosed and tortured at the same time

If you're not really into these types of stories I genuinely think this is a good one to read regardless, the emotional build up makes it so much more than just smut

daddy’s girl

pairing ↠ dilf!sunghoon x (f) reader (ft. bf!jake)

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, age gap (18+), unprotected sex, stepcest, underaged drinking, toxic relationship, reader is barely 18, this is like extremely gross don’t say you weren’t warned

summary ↠ sunghoon has been your stepdad since you were maybe thirteen or fourteen. at first, you didn’t want anything to do with him - not to go to his and your mom’s wedding, not to move to his state, and definitely not to live in his house. you had convinced yourself that all men were the same. but sunghoon was nothing like the father that had abandoned you at the worst possible time and left you to deal with your emotionally unavailable mother. he was kind, sweet, caring. and as you grow older, you find yourself falling for the one person you should never, under any circumstances, want.

wc ↠ 20k

a/n ↠ my first real fic all year 🥹 as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

for as long as you could remember, you had never been particularly fond of your boyfriend’s friends.

they were outright obnoxious, and even that was you being kind and considerate. their voices boomed loudly and their laughter rang out, and the demeaning remarks they made too often to be mere jokes always made you a little uncomfortable.

though they knew better than to make any lewd comments about you, at least. most of them were about a pretty girl wandering the party, or their girlfriend of the week. but you weren’t dumb. you saw the way they looked at you every now and then, judging you. scorning you. tearing you apart.

no comments were spoken squarely to your face, but you knew they were conjured. it made you wonder what they said to jake when you weren’t there on his lap, and you wondered if he chimed along.

thick clouds of smoke loomed in the stuffy air, making it difficult to breathe. you coughed into your fist, feeling your throat itch. honest to god, you had absolutely no clue how they smoked that shit. the one time jake had coaxed you into putting a joint to your mouth, you had thought you were dying.

jay said something that abruptly made the group of boys burst into laughter. you jolted, lifting your head from jake’s shoulder. he tightened his arm, which was looped around your back, holding you against him. “jake?” you whispered.

“hm?”

you were reluctant to say anything, knowing how he would likely respond, but you didn’t want to be here anymore. “can we go somewhere else?”

jake exhaled through his nose. you knew he didn’t want to leave. to him, these nights with his friends were harmless little exploits that made his life a little easier.

it didn’t help that he was already annoyed with you. when he swung by earlier to pick you up, he looked you up and down, and the first thing to leave his mouth was a disgruntled, “why do you always dress so childishly?”

you had never thought of your bright colors and cute patterns as inherently childish. matter of fact, the cute, brown top with stitched teddy bears you were wearing was one of your favorite shirts.

“why do you want to leave?” jake asked softly, gently rubbing your back in hopes of soothing you.

“it’s too noisy,” you complained, peering up at him.

jake could have rolled his eyes. fuck’s sake, it was a party. obviously, it wasn’t going to sound like a prayer hall. “if you smoked a little, it wouldn’t bother you.”

“i don’t like smoking.”

“that’s because you’re not used to it, baby,” jake reasoned.

“i don’t want to get used to it,” you mumbled. “you guys all pass around the same joint. you’ve basically kissed each other. which means that when you kiss me, i’m kissing all of them.”

jake groaned, “you’re so dramatic, you know that, sweetheart? it’s just a joint.”

“can you please just take me home?” you pleaded. between the rings of smoke hanging over you and the resounding thud of music and the cacophony of loud voices, you felt like you were suffocating.

jake was silent for a few moments, jaw tight. something tightened in your chest, recognizing the look on his face as something angry. before you could change your mind, jake pushed you off his lap, watching you scramble onto your feet, and spoke, “gonna call it a night early, gang. my special princess over here is too good to hang with us.”

jungwon groaned. jay rolled his eyes. heeseung snickered, not so discreetly looking at your legs, and said, “bye, princess.”

jake flipped him off and guided you away, murmuring, “come on, baby.” his hand was on the small of your back.

the two of you pushed past the bundle of people partying in the main room, which was easier with your tall, respected boyfriend in tow. your shoulders relaxed when you were outside. you were happy to be breathing in the fresh air rather than smoking and doing whatever else people could get their hands on.

jake opened the door on the passenger side of his car, letting you climb inside. by the time you were on the road, his hand was on your thigh.

you didn’t mind that. jake was a very touchy boyfriend and he always had his hands all over you. the attention was something you needed, something you craved. it was just safe enough to make you feel wanted within the boundaries of your control.

but then, after maybe ten or fifteen minutes, his hand started to move. you tore your gaze from the window down to the motion on your lap, stomach churning as you sensed his hands slipping further and further. then, your eyes went up to his face. his eyes were on the road, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

everyone was nervous about losing their virginity. everyone was scared of firsts. but for you, it was a little more than that. you weren’t scared of what happened during the act; you were terrified of what came after.

would jake still want you after you gave him what he’d been coveting? would he come back for more? could you meet his expectations, compare to the fantasies he’d crafted in his mind and had been hoping to enact?

you couldn’t know for sure. once you gave him what he wanted, you had nothing to keep him around anymore; nothing to rein him back in after the night was over. and the last thing you wanted was to be alone again. it had been okay, the ice, the nip, when it was all you’d ever known, but now that you had known how it felt to be warm, you didn’t want to remember how it felt to freeze.

“jake,” you called out softly. “what are you doing?”

“nothing, baby,” jake lied sweetly, feigning innocence. all the while, his hand was continuing to move up your leg. slowly, but surely.

when he got too close, you decided that you were more than a little uncomfortable and gingerly pushed his hand away, as if not to upset him. “babe, i don’t think that’s a good idea.”

jake forced a smile, and somehow, that was more unnerving than if he had screamed at you, exasperated. “goddamn it, woman,” he murmured. “you already dragged me away from my friends. the least you could do is make it worth it.”

you swallowed, guilt hitting you like a punch in the chest. but the anxious stirring in your stomach was a thousand times worse, a million times louder, and potent tenfold. “i’m sorry,” was all you could bring yourself to say.

jake scoffed, refusing to look at you. which was probably not so bad, all things considered. “yeah, you should be,” he grumbled.

your eyes watered, but you looked out the window and tried to think of happier, kinder times. you didn’t want to cry, not until you were alone where no one could see. you hated crying in front of others. it was embarrassing. to say nothing of the fact that whenever jake reduced you to tears, he called you a crybaby, and he’d already made you feel childish enough.

the rest of the drive home was silent, save for the sound of the wind blowing through your hair and the occasional honking; your only refuge in the midst of your struggle to be the perfect girlfriend. the cool night breeze calmed you, soothed you, and traffic felt familiar. it was oddly comforting, being stuck between two things with nowhere to go.

a feeling you knew all too well.

the only downside was that the longer you stayed there, hardly moving, the longer you had to pretend everything was okay and try desperately not to sob.

it felt like forever before you were finally back home. you immediately got out of the car, having assumed that jake wanted nothing more to do with you right now.

to your surprise, he sighed and willed himself to get out of the car, walking you to your front door.

you peered up at him, trying to read his face, trying to understand where he was at and where you had pushed him. “are you mad at me?” you asked timidly, as if you didn’t truly want to know the answer.

jake took his time to answer, exhaling quietly. “no, baby,” he said after a moment. “i’m not mad. but you can’t avoid sex forever, you know. that’s what people do. it’s natural.”

he said it so outrightly, so bluntly. as if it was really, truly just another thing that everyone did, that had no risk and no consequence. you admired his fearlessness sometimes, wondering how his life had unfolded for him to be so bold, and realized you knew very little about him. “i know,” you whispered.

jake reached for your hand, tenderly brushing his fingers over your knuckles. “but?”

you released a shaky breath. jake understood you, some ways better than others. he may have been completely clueless in some regards, but your body language was not one. shy, you confessed, “but i’m scared.”

“why are you scared?” jake asked, keeping his voice soft and level. “do you not trust me, sweetheart?”

“no, i do,” you replied, though you weren’t entirely sure if that was true or not. “but what if it’s not what you’re expecting?”

jake chuckled, as if that was absurd. “baby, relax,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “you could never disappoint me.”

your eyes got a little wider, a little starrier, watching him as if he was your whole world. “are you sure?”

“yeah, i’m sure, baby,” he told you, pressing a final kiss to your lips. “goodnight, sweetheart.”

“goodnight,” you whispered, watching him slowly start to back away. “text me when you get home.”

jake bobbed his head in acknowledgment and started to walk back to his car.

you unlocked the front door of your house, hoping to god your mother wasn’t somewhere lounging around or smoking. your stepfather didn’t enjoy when she smoked inside the house, but he was gone for the weekend. which, to her, meant his rules didn’t matter.

there was no sight of your mother when you walked into the house. but you blinked in surprise when you saw your stepfather’s favorite coat hanging on the rack in the foyer. you didn’t know people actually had those until you moved in with him.

sunghoon was in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up halfway to his shoulders, drinking coffee out of a mug you’d designed for his birthday when you were roughly fourteen. it was stupid and kind of ugly, but the fact that he still drank from it, even after four years, warmed your heart.

“daddy?” you called, stunned. you weren’t expecting him to be here for another day.

“hey, doll,” sunghoon greeted, setting down his mug for a second. “you look surprised.”

you nodded your head. compared to what you heard in endless amounts of fiction, sunghoon didn’t go on many business trips. one a month, usually, for less than three days. “i thought you were coming back tomorrow?”

“we were able to wrap things up early,” sunghoon explained briefly. he didn’t like to bore you with the details of his job, though you often asked him about it, which was somewhat endearing.

“oh,” you mumbled. you tried not to show how happy you were. most times when you were alone here with your mother, you tried to go out as much as you possibly could, which was the only reason you had agreed to hang out with jake and his friends tonight.

“yeah.” sunghoon’s eyes flitted over your body, making you feel a little self-conscious. he would habitually remember to pick up his mug and wince at how hot his coffee was. “you look cute.”

you blinked. sunghoon always complimented the way you dressed, often reminding you how cute and beautiful you were. you wished your boyfriend was more like that. “thanks,” you replied, coming over to hug him.

sunghoon set his mug down again and threw his arms around you, gentle as ever. but he smelled something on you that he didn’t exactly love. “you went out with that boy again, didn’t you?”

“how did you know?”

“you smell like weed,” he answered bluntly.

your cheeks burned. the smell had followed you home, clinging to you. you didn’t notice it on yourself, but you knew how much he hated it. “i didn’t smoke,” you told him. “i was just next to them.”

sunghoon chuckled. he knew that. you hated the mere smell of smoke, always scrunching up your face whenever it stuck to your mother or whatever spot she’d chosen to get high at. “you don’t need to explain yourself to me, doll. i know you.”

you nodded, even more embarrassed. reluctantly, you pulled away and sat on the barstool next to him. it was late and you were kind of sleepy, exhausted of having to try so hard, but you wanted to talk to him.

ironically, it was silent for a moment as sunghoon sipped his coffee and you tried to think of what to say. sunghoon spoke first, mentioning offhandedly, “i don’t like your boyfriend.”

you sighed, resting your head against the island. “i don’t really like him, either.”

that threw sunghoon off. “so why are you still dating him?”

“i don’t know,” you huffed.

sunghoon’s eyes were fixed on you, wanting to get to the bottom of it and willing to confront the issue that you weren’t. you had no business staying in a relationship you weren’t content with. “is he threatening you?” he asked.

your shot up, eyes widening. “no, he’s not making me date him.”

if anything, that only served to make sunghoon even more alarmed, and he pressed, “what is he making you do?”

“he’s not making me do anything,” you replied quietly, knowing that wasn’t the best way to put it. “it’s just that… he wants to have sex.”

“and you don’t?” sunghoon finished for you. the topic didn’t make him feel awkward or uncomfortable, even if you were, by law, his daughter. he was the one person in the world you could talk to about anything and everything without fear, and he took great pride in that.

you shrugged, repeating, “i don’t know.”

“well, you gotta know something, baby,” sunghoon teased. “do you, or do not you?”

ignoring the way the pet name made you feel, you tried to think about it, hard. “i mean, he’s cute. and he’s nice enough most of the time,” you murmured, engrossed in thought. “but i guess i don’t really trust him that much yet. and i don’t want to give my body to someone i don’t trust.”

sunghoon hummed in understanding. “you know that’s not a bad thing, right?”

you sighed, shoulders slumped. “i guess.”

sunghoon placed his hand on your cheek, his touch feather light, as if you had a fragile warning on your forehead. “you can do so much better than him,” he whispered. “i know you’re going to do whatever you want at the end of the day, but as your father, i’m going to look out for you.”

but could you do any better? jake was your first boyfriend in years. maybe he wasn’t perfect, but he was better than all the failed talking stages you’d been through. if you held onto the good memories, the ones like only a moment ago where he held you tenderly and touched you with affection, you could bear the hurt.

but there was nothing like that with sunghoon. the way he touched you now, his hand on your face, was something you could always expect. “thank you for that.”

sunghoon shook his head. “you don’t need to thank me. it’s what i’m supposed to do.”

no, you have no obligation to do that, you thought to yourself, bemused. for nearly five years, he had been going above and beyond for you, treating you as if you were his very own daughter. you couldn’t understand it.

but you appreciated it. you appreciated everything. the way he reminded you how beautiful you were, the way he spent time with you even when he was exhausted, the way he listened to your problems and told you everything was going to be okay. without him, you would be so much more broken.

but you didn’t let your thoughts wander there. it was too much suppressed pain that you weren’t ready to uncover. “daddy, are you tired?”

sunghoon shrugged. “not really. i probably won’t go to sleep until around two. why?”

“do you want to watch a scary movie with me?” you asked, hopeful. yearnful.

sunghoon could see it in your eyes. he had learned to become very good at reading you after so long, though you’d always worn your emotions on your face. especially when you were thinking. it was very hard for you to lie. chuckling at the thought, he replied, “why not?”

you smiled, removing his hand from your face to slip your fingers through his as you hopped off the barstool, and led him to the living room.

the two of you settled on a nightmare on elm street and you went on to complain about how much you disliked eighties horror, much to sunghoon’s amusement. he tried to remind you that the technology and equipment available decades ago wasn’t the same as in the current age, but you didn’t budge.

apparently, you found the movie so boring that you fell asleep watching young johnny depp get devoured by a mattress. your head was on sunghoon’s shoulder, the couch blanket draped over you as you snored softly.

when you woke up, you were in your bed, cocooned inside your comforter instead and surrounded by stuffed dolls as birds chirped outside your window and the morning breeze whistled through the air.

none of which you had time to enjoy or even perceive, because the thing that had jolted you awake was the sound of a fist banging against your bedroom door. you groaned and willed yourself to climb out of bed, grumbling something underneath your breath, and threw the door open exasperatedly.

your mother was standing there in her robe, eyes red. “why didn’t you wash dishes?”

you fought a groan. that was the first thing to come out of her mouth? really? “wasn’t aware i was supposed to,” you said groggily.

clearly, that wasn’t a satisfactory answer. “i don’t want to wake up to a dirty kitchen. we’ve been over this.”

you could have rolled your eyes at that. then, clean it up yourself, you retorted in your head. it wasn’t like you had made the mess. “you cooked while i wasn’t here and i didn’t have any.” i didn’t think i needed to clean up after you.

“that doesn’t mean shit,” she snapped. “you don’t have a job, you don’t do anything around the house. you need to take some responsibility.”

with that, your mother turned and walked away.

you closed the door and exhaled through your nose, trying to calm yourself. you had been awake for less than five minutes and she had already managed to piss you off.

and over the most ridiculous thing. it couldn’t have been that hard to clean up after herself instead of trying to make it your problem. maybe you didn’t have a job, but she didn’t either. and the only reason you apparently didn’t do anything around the house was because you never did anything to destroy it in the first place.

and because you very rarely left your room when your mother was there. something about her presence left you on edge. there were many times you went hungry just because you didn’t want to pass her in the living room on the way to the kitchen for a snack. for as long as you could remember, the familiar sound of her bracelets rattling and her sandals tapping the floor had made your heart race.

in the middle of trying to undo your frustration, you thought of something. you had woken up in bed, even though you’d most definitely fallen asleep on the couch with sunghoon, and you had no memory of making the journey upstairs.

which meant he’d carried you.

your heart fluttered. something about that thought - the thought of a bigger, stronger man carrying you - did unspeakable damage to your brain. you knew he was your stepfather, knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help but picture what else he could do with all that strength.

it was also worth mentioning that you were very vulnerable when you were just lying there innocently, asleep. he could have done anything to you if he wanted. if only he had wanted it.

almost the whole day had passed when, to your surprise, you had gotten a text from jake inviting you to hang out with him again. you had assumed he’d want time to himself after last night. but you wasted no time in getting ready, doing something different with your usually dolly makeup, and putting on a miniskirt to seem a little more mature.

you had been close to walking out of the front door, hurriedly walking past sunghoon and your mother who were sitting in the living room, until you heard your mother say, “come back. now.”

you slowly grinded to a halt, muttering annoyances to yourself, and forced a smile as you spun on your feet. “yes, mother dearest?”

“where the hell are you going at this time of night looking like a whore?” she asked, snappy.

you tried to take that in stride, but it was hard. she never failed to hurt your feelings.

your mother didn’t even give you the opportunity to respond before she demanded, “take that off.”

you stood your ground. “no.”

your mother looked at you like she wanted to lunge at you. ever since you had turned eighteen, which wasn’t even that long ago, you had gotten bolder. “if you leave wearing that, you’re just begging for it. don’t come crying to me if something happens.”

your eyes stung. how could she say something like that?

sunghoon made a face and put a hand on her shoulder, trying to stop her before she went too far. “doll,” he said to you, taking over. “i know you’re an adult now, but we still want you to be safe. i don’t know where you’re going, but i don’t trust this world enough to honor that wish. can you change, please? for me?”

switching on a dime, you replied meekly, “okay, daddy,” and went back upstairs to change your skirt.

your mother gawked in disbelief. then her expression flashed to anger. “why does she listen to you and not to me?”

“you called her a whore,” sunghoon replied, unsurprised. “i wouldn’t have listened, either.”

“i said she looked like one.”

sunghoon sighed. “that doesn’t make it any better. you know she’s sensitive. either way, you shouldn’t have said that.”

your mother said nothing, sulking. in her mind, it didn’t matter the delivery. she was your mother and she didn’t enjoy being disrespected.

the skirt you changed into was a little longer, at the least halfway down your thighs. you had been quick to change, grateful your bed was still littered in pile of skirts you’d handpicked (and would unfortunately have to clean later), and rushed outside to slide into the passenger seat of jake’s car.

the party he took you to tonight was better than the last one, at least. there were probably still people smoking and partying hard, but jake had you in the kitchen, where thankfully few people were.

jake handed you one of two red plastic cups with some kind of liquid in them. “here you go, baby.”

though you accepted the cup, you looked at it with scrunched brows, then back up at him. “what is this?”

“a mix of things,” jake replied with extreme vagueness. “just try it, sweetheart.”

you didn’t question him, just turning the cup up like it was juice, which you quickly realized couldn’t have been further from the truth. you grimaced, ears and throat burning, and put a hand on your chest. “what the fuck?”

jake furrowed his brows, feigning innocence. “you don’t like it?”

you shook your head. you’d had alcohol before, a few times when you were maybe fifteen and had sneakily took a shot of tequila from your mom’s pantry, but you had grown out of that. plus, you were still underaged in terms of drinking. “no, it burns,” you complained. “i’m not supposed to drink anyway.”

“you have such a stick up your ass,” jake teased, taking the cup from you and throwing back a gulp like it was nothing. he was only a year older than you, nineteen, and had no business drinking, either.

you shook your head in disapproval, though you knew it probably wasn’t much worse than him smoking.

“here,” he said, giving you the other cup he had been holding. this one was clear. “try this one. i think you’ll like it.”

you were reluctant, considering how much you disliked the first one he’d given you, but with how expectantly he was looking at you, you grabbed the cup and took a tentative taste. your eyes widened. it tasted like juice.

jake chuckled at your reaction. “good, right?”

you nodded, taking another sip. which became another, and another, until your head started to feel a little woozy. by the time you started to recognize it, you were already more than tipsy.

jake hoisted you into his arms like it was nothing and sat you atop the counter, draping his hands over your exposed thighs. “you look so pretty today,” jake mused aloud, admiring your skirt. “you get all cute for me?”

“yeah,” you murmured, eyes fluttering. it was all you could do to keep them open and suddenly, you wanted to go to bed.

“sleepy drunk, aren’t you?” jake asked, moving his hands to your waist to keep you upright. “heeseung’s room is upstairs. wanna go to bed, baby?”

you did, but certainly not here. you were drunk, not stupid. with you and him alone in a closed bedroom, there was no telling what all he would and wouldn’t do. and the fact that it belonged to heeseung only strengthened your hesitation.

“no, it’s okay,” you told him, shaking your head softly. you gingerly pushed yourself off the counter and onto your feet. “i’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

jake grabbed your hand, not wanting to let you loose just yet. “let me help you.”

“it’s okay,” you repeated, brushing him off. your heart thudded, nervous. “stay here.”

jake begrudgingly let you go, watching you disappear in the crowd with his jaw set. you just always managed to evade him, didn’t you?

you stumbled a little at first, but found your balance, making your way through the flock of other drunk partygoers. you gripped the railing for dear life as you climbed up the stairs, searching for the bathroom.

it was by the grace of god that you were able to find it and lock yourself inside without walking in on a couple trying to touch and feel on each other. you sighed in relief, digging around your bag for your phone. you had to get out of here, now.

with two incorrect attempts, you were able to enter your password and immediately went to your contacts, dialing the one person you knew you needed at a time like this. the one person who you could trust would be there for you no matter what.

sunghoon picked up on the second ring, answering, “hello?”

“daddy?”

even if it was only one word, sunghoon could hear in your tone that something wasn’t right. “yes, doll? is something wrong?”

“i think i messed up,” you murmured, grabbing onto the sink counter to stabilize yourself.

sunghoon’s brows stitched with worry, even if you couldn’t see. “what did you do? are you okay? are you hurt?”

“i don’t feel so good right now,” you replied, feeling drowsy. “i drank and i shouldn’t have, and… can you just come pick me up? please.”

you heard shuffling in the background, like he was already moving. “send me your location.”

fifteen minutes later, give or take, sunghoon called you and told you that he was outside.

you grabbed your phone and unlocked the bathroom door, heading straight for the stairs and making a beeline for the front door, wanting to leave before jake could spot you and do more damage. the second you saw your stepfather’s car, you hurried over, nearly tripping over your own legs.

thankfully, you were able to get inside his car without any problems, shutting the door and dragging the seatbelt over you.

sunghoon glanced at you, relieved to see that you were in one piece, but still worried. “are you okay?”

you nodded your head, sighing in relief just as the seatbelt clicked. “i’m okay,” you said, quiet. “thank you.”

sunghoon knew he should have been scolding you for drinking when you were only eighteen, but he was more concerned about your wellbeing at the moment. “why were you drinking?” he asked softly.

you swallowed, knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer, but you had to be honest. “jake gave me a cup and told me to try it.”

sunghoon exhaled, starting the car. if you were going to talk about jake, it was best that he was far, far away from wherever he was. “he’s no good for you, you know that?”

you turned away and looked out the window, eyes watering.

sunghoon glanced over for a split second and reached out with his right hand, his left one gripping the wheel. “i don’t mean to make you cry, baby. but you know i’ll never lie to you.”

“i know,” you whispered, trying to fight the tears. god, you hated how you couldn’t control them, how they fell at any minor inconvenience and there was nothing you could do to stop them.

he would never understand; no one could. the reason you went back to jake even though you knew in your heart of hearts that he was just another boy that would never love you. hell, you hardly understood yourself. it was fair, considering you couldn’t say that you loved him either, but you felt something.

and it was this unidentified something that kept you tied to him like a knot rather than severing the bond. you didn’t love him, no, you hardly trusted him, but you liked him enough. he was your second best.

though sunghoon’s eyes were on the road, he still had a tender hand on yours, squeezing it firmly. “why do you keep hurting yourself like this, doll? you’re too smart to be fooling around with boys like that.”

“he’s all i have,” you said, your voice feeble.

sunghoon’s brows furrowed, confused. “that’s not true. you have me, you have your mom, and you have tons of friends and family that love you. what makes you feel like he’s all you have?”

family i feel disconnected from, friends i only show half of myself to, and an emotionally unavailable mother who wants to control my whole life, you thought with a resentment you had been nursing for years.

you swallowed it down, even though it was bitter and lingered on your tongue, and answered softly, “because sometimes, when he’s not angry, when he’s not smoking or drinking or trying to hook up, when he’s listening to me and looking at me like i mean something to him, i get to feel like he loves me.”

sunghoon didn’t skip a beat. “and how many times is that, baby?”

that hit you like the ceiling crashing down on your chest. all your life, you had just wanted somebody to love you. you had just wanted to feel like you mattered to someone and you had gone through great lengths just to hear it from another person’s mouth. you had always tried.

the only person in the world you never had to try with was your stepfather. the man had gone out of his way, since you were thirteen years old, to treat you like his own. at first, you had wanted nothing to do with him - not to go to his and your mother’s wedding, not to move to his state, and most definitely not to live in his house. you had convinced yourself from a young age that all men were the same.

but sunghoon was nothing like the father that had abandoned you just when you needed him most and left you to deal with your mother who was incapable of expressing any affection to you in a normal, healthy manner. sunghoon was kind, sweet, loving. he was patient with you, spent quality time with you, spoiled you with gifts and listened to your problems.

all things your father did when you were a little girl, when everything had been okay, once upon a time.

it was only natural that you found yourself gravitating towards him more often than not, wanting to be around him, wanting to hear his voice, wanting to hold him and spend every waking moment with him. and it was only even more natural that eventually, your heart began to flutter around him.

but you suppressed it, because you weren’t that dumb. you knew there were no chances of him reciprocating your feelings, not when he loved you with the love of a father. but the nipping void inside you was still there, and it had never felt more empty.

you knew it would be a bad idea to look at sunghoon, so you kept your eyes fixed on the gleaming towers and lights shimmering on the water as he crossed a bridge. “i know it doesn’t make sense,” you willed yourself to respond. “it doesn’t make sense to me, either.”

for a moment, sunghoon was silent. he may not have understood, but he wanted to deliver his words in the right way. in the end, he chose compassion. “feelings don’t always make sense, especially not right away, and especially not when you’re young and experiencing them for the first time. but that doesn’t mean you have to let them control you.”

arms crossed, you grumbled, “easier said than done.”

“i know it is, doll,” sunghoon whispered. “i know it is.”

something in his tone made you finally turn to face him. your eyes glimmered and you begged, “please, don’t tell mom.”

sunghoon looked conflicted, like he was weighing his options, but he knew what the most effective choice would be. “i won’t, but you can’t keep doing stuff like this, kiddo. it worries me.”

if there was anything you hated, it was that pet name. “i’m not a kid. i’m eighteen.”

“and thirty days,” sunghoon added dryly.

he said that like it meant something. you retorted, “what, are you keeping track?”

“i’m just good at quick math.”

you scoffed. it was probably true, considering all the things you saw him calculating when it came to complicated business things you never understood, but that didn’t make it any better. “okay. how old are you?” you asked knowingly.

“thirty-nine.”

“what’s thirty-nine minus eighteen?”

“twenty-one,” sunghoon answered without any forethought.

more than twice my age. you knew that. not that it was hard to figure out, but that wasn’t the point. at some point, you had become obsessed with those numbers, crafting a delicate list of reasons why it could never work with your stepfather. the age gap, the marriage, the this and the that.

but on the other hand, none of those things really mattered to you. you may have still been young, but you were an adult now. a legal adult.

“besides,” sunghoon continued, seemingly unaware of where your mind had wandered. “i’ll always worry about you, no matter how old you are.”

your heart did exactly what you didn’t want it to do, what you had been trying to fight against for god knows how long now; it soared.

if you weren’t regretting your night enough already, you definitely were by the time you went inside the house, realizing everything you had to do before you dropped into bed. “god, i have to shower and take off my makeup,” you grumbled, walking with a stammer.

sunghoon kicked his shoes off by the door and grabbed your hand, lest you fell and hurt yourself. “i’ll help you.”

your eyes flickered in surprise. “you don’t have to do that.”

“it’s okay,” sunghoon replied, already steering you upstairs. “you need some guidance.”

you didn’t know what he meant by that, or maybe you did and you were simply in denial, but you didn’t ask.

sitting you atop the counter in your bathroom, sunghoon picked out the pack of makeup wipes that were already sitting there and gently began to wipe your face, pushing a stray braid behind your ear. he seemed focused, eyes squinting and his thicks brows furrowing.

you were focused too, watching him intently the entire time. it was difficult to ignore the way your heart raced when he got so close, the way your body seared with heat when he touched your cheek. it wasn’t necessarily even affectionately, which only served to make you more disappointed in yourself.

but sometimes, when you were staring hard enough, much like right now, you noticed more than just how handsome he was. you noticed the little scrunch of his brows when he was concentrating, you noticed the way his chest rose and fell as he breathed. when it was as quiet as it was right now, you could even hear his breathing almost as subtle as the faint scent of cologne on him that had worn throughout the day.

maybe it was somewhat obsessive, but you didn’t do it on purpose. sunghoon made it easy to tune the world out and ignore everything that wasn’t him.

after washing your face, sunghoon grabbed you something to wear and asked, “need anything else, doll?”

“no, daddy. i’ve got it,” you replied, grabbing a towel for your shower. the water was running behind the curtains. “thank you.”

sunghoon grinned softly and bent down to press his lips to your forehead in a tender kiss. “goodnight, baby,” he whispered.

“g’night, daddy.”

the door closed. you hated knowing that you were alone, that he wasn’t right there with you. at times, you got tempted to do things you used to do when you were younger, crawling into bed with him in the middle of the night, but it wouldn’t be appropriate. no matter how much you hated being separated.

you usually liked to milk time with him for all that it was worth, especially because he was always working. you stole the seat beside him at the dinner table, you watched him mend items in the house, and you spent a lot of time on the couch of his study when he was taking calls and doing paperwork.

once you had gotten redressed after your shower, you slipped into bed with a sigh. there was always tomorrow.

the cereal boxes were pushed too far back again.

you couldn’t reach them. even standing on your tippy toes, waving your hand aimlessly in hope of even scraping the damn corner of a box of cinnamon toast crunch, they were just too far. “ugh,” you whined, irritated.

sunghoon watched. his eyes were less on your challenging endeavor and more on the swell of your ass peeking from underneath your tiny nightgown as you rose off the heels of your feet onto your toes, noticing the way it jiggled when you stood normally again. there was a pang of guilt in his chest, watching you like that, but at the end of the day, sunghoon was just a man.

“i’ll get it,” sunghoon insisted, standing up from the bar to swing over without even having to ask which one you wanted. he routinely saw you only eat the same cereal.

you thanked him when he grabbed the box of cinnamon toast crunch and placed it securely into your hands. walking over to the counter where the milk and bowl were waiting, you noticed sunghoon come up behind you. at first, you thought he was just watching for whatever reason, so you ignored the thud in your chest at his proximity and poured the cereal.

then, you carefully grabbed the milk, not wanting to spill it accidentally. you had been guilty of that before. without warning, his hands dropped below your waist and cupped your cheeks, making your eyes go wide. “daddy,” you gasped out, bemused. “what are you doing?”

sunghoon shushed you, giving your neck a fleeting kiss before he shifted his attention back downwards, pushing your nightgown up so that it would bunch around your hips. “quiet,” he whispered.

“daddy, the milk,” you whined, having lost control of your grip when he touched you, catching you by surprise.

most of it had spilled out of its container, the bowl overflowing with streams of milk dripping off the counter that would stink if not cleaned soon enough. but some of it had splashed onto your face, chest and tummy. “shh,” sunghoon repeated. “don’t worry about it. you can milk something else.”

your face warmed in realization just as he began to press himself against you from behind, and the very big, very hard bulge in his pants made your mouth run dry.

or maybe it was the morning breath. because you woke up, sighing quietly at first, and turned to stretch your arm from underneath your blankets.

“what the fuck,” you grumbled a few minutes later when it dawned on you exactly what kind of dream you’d just had.

sure, you’d had dreams about sunghoon before, but they were nothing to write home about; they were entirely random and didn’t make logical sense, or they were simple and mundane, and very often, you didn’t realize they were dreams at first because they were so realistic that they could have been memories.

that was definitely a dream. you couldn’t imagine sunghoon doing anything like that to you. well, you certainly could, but that wasn’t the point. it wasn’t realistic whatsoever, other than him extending himself to help you.

it made you horny to think about. everything about the dream had physically felt so real to you; sunghoon’s hands on your ass, his bulge pressing against you from behind, and his warmth radiating onto you hotly enough to make you melt.

part of you was tempted to go back to bed, ignoring the faint chirps of birds outside your window and the light reaching through white and pink curtains. if only you could have stayed asleep a little longer, just to see how it ended. if only sunghoon would have ever felt that way about you too, then maybe it could become true.

but he wouldn’t. and even if he somehow did, sunghoon was at work by now. so you did the one you never thought you would do.

“hello?” jake said when he picked up the phone.

your heart sped. you were about to propose something that you were none too sure about, but something had to be done about the festering ache between your legs. your fingers weren’t satisfying you anymore; they hadn’t in years. “jake,” you whispered. “hi.”

“hi,” jake repeated dryly, wondering what you wanted. you could hear in his tone that he still wasn’t particularly thrilled about last night.

you swallowed the lump in your throat. “i’m sorry for running away last night,” you murmured. “i didn’t want to abandon you like that. i was just… scared.”

jake made a noise, but it was so quiet and distorted that you couldn’t decide what to make of it. “you were scared,” he replied, echoing your words again.

you gave a deep, prolonged exhale. you knew that you were running out of time with him, that one day, he would grow sick of your excuses and your stalling. “i knew that… you were trying to have sex,” you explained. “and i didn’t… i didn’t feel comfortable. i was drunk. and then you said we were going to heeseung’s room, and i got even more worried.”

“why?”

“i don’t like heeseung,” you admitted, although you thought it would be obvious by now. “he looks at me weird.”

“baby,” jake sighed. you could hear how frustrated he was. “heeseung’s not gonna hurt you. he just likes to have a little fun. but if it makes you feel better, i’ll try to keep him in line.”

you were only half relieved. “thank you.”

“now, is that why you called me? to tell me heeseung makes you uncomfortable?” he asked.

“no,” you stammered, playing with the hem of your shirt in attempt to distract yourself from your nerves. “there’s something else i wanted to tell you.”

“what is it, sweetheart?”

you blurted, “i think i’m ready.”

you could practically feel jake perk up. “like, seriously?” he asked, stunned.

“yeah,” you replied, but it weak. there was a bit of regret in your chest when the word left your mouth, but you tried to swallow it down and keep it there. “i’m ready, jake. right now.”

jake was ruffling through something, probably his drawer. “shit,” he said, excited. you wondered if his heart was beating even half as fast as yours was. “where are you right now?”

“home.”

“can i come over?”

“yeah,” you muttered again. he lived far enough that you had time to wash up a little and get your mind together. “my dad is at work and my mom probably won’t be home until later. it’s just me.”

“i’m on the way,” jake said without missing a beat, quickly hanging up.

you took a deep breath, trying to relax yourself. jake was your boyfriend. you were supposed to call him when you had needs; itches that needed scratching.

it was a conflict that had been warring in your mind for weeks, maybe subconsciously months. on the one hand, your lust was only centered around sunghoon and you were afraid of having sex with jake for more reasons than one. but on the other, the human desire for release had ran to a peak and now it was unignorable, your body begging to be satiated.

you knew what the most prudent choice would have been: dumping jake, getting over these unrational feelings for your stepfather, and no longer settling for men that treated you as less than what you deserved. but what did you look like being alone again, waiting for someone to decide they loved you, especially when your heart belonged to someone who could never be yours?

clearly, you were in no way in the position to make prudent choices. not when the need burning inside you outweighed the reason.

time went by faster than you thought, considering that jake didn’t particularly live nearby. you had spent the better half of that time in your own head, wondering what would happen, and the sound of the doorbell ringing jolted you out of your thoughts.

your heart was pounding with all its might as you made deliberately slow, steadys steps down the stairs and to the front door where you knew jake would be waiting. seeing his face when you opened the door only made you more anxious.

jake, on the other hand, beamed when he saw you. you weren’t sure if you had ever seen him smile at you like that before. “hey, baby,” he greeted, stepping inside.

“hi,” you murmured, shutting the door behind him.

jake coiled his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest. his alluring, familiar scent put you at ease a little more. “i missed you,” he whispered, fingers sliding underneath your shirt to draw patterns on your navel, almost as if he could sense your need for comfort. “you ran off on me last night.”

your smile was sheepish as you apologized again, “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay. i know why you did it,” jake said, glancing around as you led him out of the foyer little by little. “i just realized i’ve never been inside your house.”

that was not only true, but intentional; for obvious reasons, you didn’t want to be in the house with jake by yourself, but you also didn’t want him around your parents, either. your mother would find some way to embarrass you and the few times sunghoon and jake had met, there was strange tension in the air.

based on your mother’s behavioral patterns and those interactions alone, you had made the unilateral decision that it would be better for everyone involved if you kept your relationship with jake outside. “yeah,” you said, happy to think about anything but what was to come. “it’s better that way, don’t you think?”

jake chuckled, nodding his head. when he saw the stairs, he instinctively started heading that way. “yeah. i don’t think your dad likes me very much.”

“he’s just protective,” you replied, although you remembered sunghoon telling you outright that he didn’t like your boyfriend.

“you don’t need protecting from me,” jake told you, slipping his hand down from your navel to your hand as you started up the steps. “have you been telling him mean things about me?”

define mean, was what you answered in your head. if anything, you had probably described jake too kindly, too gently. he had never hurt you, at least in the sense that he had never put his hands on you, but he was aggressive in other, more hurtful ways. “no, i told him the truth.”

“and what’s the truth?”

“that i love you,” you lied. “and i want to do this with you.”

jake looked like the happiest man alive, and something told you that it was unusual for him to be more enthusiastic in this moment than almost any other moment he’d spent with just the two of you. but the fear that had kept you close to him for so long was the same fear that had held you apart, and it was the same fear telling you to be silent.

but when jake opened the door to your bedroom, his face fell. “what’s all this?”

your brows furrowed. “…my bedroom?”

“yours?” jake echoed, apparently appalled as he scanned your bedroom from left to right.

the main culprit, however, seemed to be the miscellaneous plushies thrown about your bed. “oh,” you whispered, confused. your mother had found it childish and voiced her unwanted opinion every now and then, but you never thought it was so bad.

jake scoffed, “what are you, thirteen? i’m not fucking you on that.”

“but, jake,” you started, noticing him turning back around. your stomach churned. he was leaving.

shaking his head, jake threw the door open and said, “you really have to grow up, baby.”

you followed him, frantic. you knew he could your footsteps as you trailed behind him down the stairs, but he didn’t bother turning around, as if he had already decided he didn’t want to see you anymore. “jake, please don’t go,” you begged.

he didn’t listen. he didn’t even look at you, not until he made it to the front door and said, “goodbye,” followed by your name. then, he walked out the door, passing your mother on his way out.

as if this afternoon couldn’t get any worse.

as soon your mother stepped through the door, looking like she had been awake for the past twelve hours doing god knows what, she went, “really? you turn eighteen and think you can just do whatever you want? why the hell are you bringing boys over?”

you were already on the verge of tears and you didn’t have the strength to put up with her, so for the first time in your life, you chose to walk away. she called after you, demanding you to come back, but you ignored it and raced upstairs to your bedroom.

it hurt more than it should have, watching jake leave like that, watching him go despite your pleas. maybe because it felt all too familiar. your brain recognized the feeling belligerently attacking you and your heart weakly surrendered to it, still too broken.

maybe you were always too broken, maybe that was why they never stayed. this is what men do, you told yourself through hot, wet tears. they take what they want, and then when it becomes even a little too much for them, they leave. nothing will change that. they won’t change themselves.

sitting alone by yourself in your closed bedroom with only your stuffed toys to bear witness to your suffering, it still felt humiliating. you had already come to the conclusion that what you felt for jake was not love, at least not of a romantic nature. and yet for the life of you, you couldn’t wrap your head around why it still hurt so bad.

it was a dizzying, throbbing ache that only persisted the longer you sat on the carpeted floor, weeping. for a fleeting moment, you were twelve again, old enough to recognize your first heartbreak but not enough to put a name to it. you remembered like it was yesterday, watching your father’s back as he walked out of the door, hauling the last of what he would bring with him into his new life, and leaving you in the old chapter.

there was a certain shape of hopelessness that you’d molded into, the loud, petty arguments and traded hits culminating in the few seconds it took to realize that you didn’t mean as much as a toothbrush, a watch, a box of wrenches or an old, wrinkled tee. because if you had, maybe he would have taken you, too.

and maybe if you meant more to jake than what was between your legs, he would still be here now. denying him sex for so long made you feel powerful; he was wrapped around your finger at some point, submissive, so to speak, and willing to do anything with the hopes that you would give it up. you took advantage of that. you used him so that for once in your life, you could feel wanted and in control.

and as you had ultimately come to expect, your woeful thoughts soon wandered to the greatest manifestation of your desires so far: sunghoon. it only seemed just that the world would taunt and tantalize you with the most perfect man you’d ever known, the only one you could ever trust with your heart.

the cards had been dealt so that you had just enough access to admire how much of a dream he was, but not enough to let you slip away; you could doze off, vaguely picturing what it would be like in a world where the steep heights and pitless hollows of your affection could be reciprocated, but every time, you would be jolted back awake.

the more you thought about it, there had to be a reason why you seemed to want things more after coming to find there was no feasible way you could make them yours - because you wanted control.

control, particularly over your own life, was something you had long wanted yet long been denied. you wanted to be able to make decisions for yourself without having your circumstances be shaped around the decisions of others. you didn’t want to suffer the consequences of a choice you had no say in. you wanted to reap what was rightfully yours.

seeing someone like sunghoon, someone that you knew you could never have, only made him attractive tenfold. until now, you never noticed how this manifested similarly in other parts of your life, like in your overwhelming urge to prove yourself. to be the adult it seemed like everyone doubted you could be.

that’s why it’s so hard for me to accept denial and handle rejection, you rationalized as you peeled yourself off the floor and onto your bed, having finally stopped sobbing. because i’ve been denied simple pleasures my whole life, and yet people try to deny me even more.

thinking back to the little girl you once were, the one that was full of life and imagination, the one that foolishly had hoped her mother and father would stay together, the one that was innocent and naive, and knew nothing about how brutal reality truly was, you couldn’t help but burst into tears all over again.

because that little girl didn’t deserve to have to grow up so quickly. if you could have undone it all, if you could have spared that little girl the trauma of crying herself to sleep as she heard her parents arguing down the hall, if you could have stopped her dad from leaving for years, if you could have stopped her mom from inviting man to man into her life, you would have done it in a heartbeat.

and then there was the part of you that had always craved romance, the part of you that remained unfulfilled. combining this lifelong grapple with control with an unattainable lover, it was no secret why you wanted to prove the stars wrong.

just this once, you wanted to know that you deserved good things too.

after a long moment of drifting between the sickness in your mind that had been infecting your thoughts, you eventually cried yourself to sleep. it was something you hadn’t done in years, but when you woke up, you almost felt better.

you dragged yourself out of bed and slipped on your house shoes, trudging downstairs while mumbling prayers about how you hoped you wouldn’t bump into your mother. you knew she would give you an earful about earlier.

to your surprise, rather than your mother, sunghoon was in the kitchen. he turned when he heard your heavy footsteps. “hey, doll,” he said, shutting the refrigerator.

you grumbled a response and waved weakly, moving past the island so that you could join him near the refrigerator. you would have opened it yourself, but sunghoon beat you to it, handing you a water.

when your eyes widened a little in surprise, sunghoon snickered and asked, “what else do you drink?”

he had a good point there. it was rare you drank anything but water in the house, not that you had a specific reason for it. it was just a habit you hadn’t broken. “and what if i was hungry?” you asked playfully, accepting the water from his hands.

“you wouldn’t have touched the refrigerator, because you always get everything delivered.”

you gasped in mock offense. “hey, i cook sometimes!”

sunghoon chuckled. “yes, you do, doll. but i know not to expect you to cook anything if you look like you just crawled out of bed.”

you hummed, sitting down at the island and twisting the cap off the water. you didn’t realize how long you had been asleep, but it had to have been a while if sunghoon was home.

sunghoon followed you, sitting beside you. he didn’t say anything for a minute, wanting to carefully think over his words so that they came out as intended. “i went up to your room earlier to talk to you about something, but you were sleeping, so i left you alone.”

you glanced over at him, finishing your swig before you asked, “talk about what?”

“your mother wants me to address your… disobedience, as she puts it,” sunghoon started levelly.

you sighed, slamming your head against the counter. of course, she did. “i guess she told you jake was here earlier?”

“she did.”

you were almost certain that that woman just didn’t want you to breathe. she had been able to control you less and less over the years, and the more you resisted, the more determined she seemed. like mother, like daughter. “well, it’s your house. if you don’t want me to have boys over, then fine, i respect that. but she doesn’t have the right to police me.”

“it’s not just the boy,” sunghoon replied, although he had his own set of grievances about that. “she feels like you’re becoming rebellious in general.”

you almost rolled your eyes. “and why couldn’t she tell me that herself?”

sighing, sunghoon said, “because she pointed out that you only seem to listen to me, not her.”

“yeah, because it’s surprising i’m more inclined to obey someone who knows how to have an actual conversation than someone who just wants to yell and doesn’t care to hear me,” you retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm. “daddy, she’s been trying to control my life since forever. i’m sick of it.”

“i know how you feel, doll, but you haven’t exactly been making smart choices lately, either,” sunghoon answered gently, resting a hand on your knee. “like your boyfriend, for example.”

“i told you, i don’t like him.”

sunghoon didn’t skip a beat. “and i asked you, why are you dating him, then?”

“god, you just don’t get it,” you grumbled, opening your water bottle to take another large gulp.

“then, explain it to me,” sunghoon said gently, eyes meeting yours with a reservoir of adoration. “make me get it. i’m here to listen to you, baby girl. i want to understand you, but i can’t do that if you don’t let me in.”

but you couldn’t let him in, not that far, because then he would see something that startled him. it was easier to break your own heart over and over than it was to risk his opinion of you changing, all for some closure. “i don’t want to talk about it.”

sunghoon heaved a breath. he absolutely despised when you froze him out. he wasn’t stupid; he noticed that you were only this less forthcoming when it came to the topic of your boyfriend that he couldn’t understand for the life of him why you kept seeing. every time he thought he’d had a productive conversation with you about him, sunghoon heard something else about that boy.

something more infuriating than the last.

you stood up from the barstool, an idle box of cereal on top of the refrigerator catching your eye as you did, and you remembered the dream you’d had about him that inspired everything to happen today. “i love you, daddy,” you whispered, throwing your arms around him. “thank you for trying.”

“i’ll always try,” sunghoon told you, voice featherlight.

you believed him, you truly did, but it hurt to think that he was the only man that would ever say that to you and mean it. “i know.”

sunghoon placed a hand on his shoulder before you could leave, hoping to get one more sentence in. “i know it’s not easy for you, doll, but can you try to appease your mother every now and then? for me?”

you stifled a sigh, nodding your head. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do, daddy,” you murmured.

sunghoon smiled softly and pat your shoulder.

for the next couple of days, you pathetically waited by your phone, hoping to hear from jake again. normally, he would text you the day or two after an unresolved argument, apologizing profusely until you gave him a satisfactory answer.

or in other words, until you forgave him. but on the third day, you knew something was wrong. you hadn’t even argued, and yet he was ignoring your existence as if you had committed the most unjustifiable crime against humanity ever recorded.

this is really it, you thought fretfully, heart swelling with dread. he doesn’t want me anymore.

you tried to act like it didn’t hurt, like he didn’t wield this immense power over you, but you knew you were lying to yourself. and that jake had lied to you. he had said that you could never disappoint him, after all, but you were fairly certain that ship had sailed.

it was half past noon when you noticed a notification on your phone from one of your friends, an attachment with a text that read, hey, did you break up with jake? just asking because someone sent me a photo of him kissing another girl yesterday night.

surely enough, the attached image was of jake swallowing some other girl’s face, blurry in quality, but you knew your boyfriend’s face when you saw it. he had his hands round her waist, holding her close exactly like how he’d held you, only it seemed like it’d been so long since he’d touched you like that.

only one minute ago, you had been convinced that you had no more tears left to cry. staring at the image, pieces of your wounded heart dropping heavily to your stomach, you didn’t realize you were crying until the phone went black by itself and you faintly saw your reflection in its screen, mirroring you.

whatever had happened between you and jake the other day, you didn’t consider it a breakup. it was your understanding that you were still together, given that he hadn’t necessarily said something to indicate the opposite. maybe you were mistaken, but that didn’t make it feel like anything less of a betrayal.

but to call it a betrayal implied some level of trust, a level deeper than you thought you had possessed. your feelings for jake were complicated, but you knew that you had trusted him not to stab you in the back the second it was turned. you had trusted him to take care of you, to protect you. you had trusted him not to hurt you.

now that you thought about it, you weren’t sure why. the past couple of weeks alone had been hell, his advances becoming more frequent than ever now that you had turned eighteen, and he had always shown signs of wavering. but you ignored them. you were desperate to fill the void left behind by every man you’d ever loved.

torn from head to toe with the sting of emotion, you pushed open your bedroom door and went straight for your parents room. fortunately, it was empty, neither of them home to watch you sulk; the last thing you wanted was for your stepfather to see you sobbing over a boy he hated, and for your mother to say that she told she so.

the first place you touched was the closet, where you knew sunghoon kept his hoodies. you missed him. you missed him in ways you’d never genuinely known him, or felt him, or possessed him. perhaps it would have made more sense to say that you longed for him, but in your heart, those moments you’d dreamt of felt real sometimes.

taking one of his cozy, black hoodies down from where they hung, you hurriedly threw it on, quickly engulfed by its size. it was comforting. the smell was, too. if you closed your eyes, you could pretend that sunghoon was there, holding you in his arms and whispering in your ear that everything would be okay in the end.

you pinched the loose material of the hoodie that was dropping around your body as you sat on the floor and held it to your nose, eyes fluttering closed. he had been wearing it around the house a lot lately. you were very fond of the way he smelled. it was heavenly and masculine, but also safe and familiar.

it was uniquely his own, and, breathing in the scent of sunghoon, you exhaled calmly, pretending that he could want you.

his scent had another effect on you, too. it made you feral, to say the least. though you were mostly used to it, when you saw him for the first time after a while, it made you feel like a ferocious animal, hungry with lust and ready to pounce.

for a moment, you tried to be stronger. you tried to pull yourself together and remind yourself that this man was your stepfather, the man who was married to your mother. but the shame could only contend with the gravity of want for so long until one finally emerged triumphant.

you pulled the hoodie over your head and stared at it for a second, like you were giving yourself one final chance to not do something you’d regret, but lust prevailed over reason.

with nothing to hold you back, you wiggled out of your favorite pair of tiny house shorts, temporarily tossing them aside. you grabbed a hold of the hoodie and bunched it into shape between your thighs, slowly rocking your hips into it.

your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to think of something that would help get you off, every thought you were capable of developing revolving around your stepfather. what most of them had in common, however, was the vivid picture of sunghoon on top of you, weight crushing you hard as he rutted into you nice and deep.

it was too arousing to think about, what he would feel like buried so many inches deep inside you, face tensing as he fucked you with total abandon. you wanted him to lose self restraint, to whisper in your ear that he loved you, that he wanted you, that he needed you. and only you.

your needy hips moved faster. the muscles in your thighs were spasming, your whole body alive with the sparks of desire that were killing you slowly. breathy pants escaped your mouth, your jaw slacking as your body worked harder to exhale. you couldn’t breathe through the thick, muddled haze of your uncontrollable hunger.

how could you? the mere sight of sunghoon made your heart hammer sometimes, because it knew what it wanted. your entire body, at this point, knew what it wanted, but more importantly, it knew what it needed. you couldn’t shake the idea that sunghoon was good for you. that he was meant for you.

maybe thinking of sunghoon as some exquisite gift sent from the gods as a reward for enduring so much in so little time, rather than a titillating manifestation of everything you wanted but could never have, was merely an extreme sign of desperate coping, but you couldn’t help yourself. you deserved him, more than your mother ever would.

you could make him feel so good, if he only gave you the chance. if he only let loose for a moment and let himself indulge in the wonders between your legs that called out for him and sang his name. you didn’t know what you were thinking, almost letting another man claim what was so surely his, even if he didn’t know it yet.

one of your hands pushed up your skirt and you squeezed your breasts, imagining it was sunghoon’s bigger, stronger hand instead. your hips were now moving with a mind of their own, rough pants getting louder, and you thought of sunghoon touching you with just as much fervor and need. it felt more like you were hoping.

the heat in your core finally reached its peak and you orgasmed with a shaky moan, trying to milk the high for all it was worth, but the relief disappeared just as quickly as it had come. you sighed, hole throbbing emptily, and you inspected the hoodie for any signs of your arousal leaking through your underwear.

you pushed it aside and lied down on the floor, catching your breath as you tried to shake the guilt. you hated how much of a slave you were to this insatiable need, sinning in return for only a fleeting second of relief. but more than that, you hated settling. if you had it your way, sunghoon would have been fucking you every night.

the thought made your thighs clench against each other. sometimes, you foolishly hoped sunghoon would come into your room at night and ravage you in your sleep, fucking you awake. you knew he was so tired when he came home from work. he deserved to come home to a young, tight hole. and he deserved to use it whenever he wanted, however he wanted.

knees kicking up, your eyes shifted underneath your parents’ bed, and you noticed something hidden underneath. your curiosity got the better of you and you reached out to grab it. a tiny box came into your hands, and for a moment, you just looked at it, wondering what was inside.

there was no better way to find out than having a look yourself. you figured it was sunghoon’s, given that it was on his side of the bed, and that knowledge only made you want to open it more; you were itching to know everything about him.

your brows furrowed when you opened the box. the first thing you saw was a picture of a teenaged girl, maybe about thirteen or fourteen. you were confused about why he had it, but there were more pictures stacked beneath. the more you glanced through them, the more you realized she looked a little too much like sunghoon.

those cute, deep dimples, his deep, honey eyes, and his peachy, plump lips. you gasped, coming to only one reasonable conclusion: this was his daughter. but if true, why had you never seen her, or heard him speak about her?

you had to assume that he loved her. for one, he was keeping pictures and belongings of her beneath his bed. other than the photos, you saw a necklace with an initial that wasn’t his own, a charm bracelet, a bottle of feminine perfume and other items. a part of you felt like this was something you weren’t supposed to see, and out of respect, you put everything back just as you had found it and slid the box underneath the bed.

it felt like a violation of privacy and there was a pang of regret in your chest, but you couldn’t help but have questions. though sunghoon would be coming home later than usual tonight, so even if you somehow mustered the courage to ask him, it would be a while before you got the opportunity.

you reached out to grab your shorts and put them back on. the only thing left for you to take care of was sunghoon’s hoodie, which you weren’t sure what to do with. you could have put it back as if nothing had ever happened, but you would have felt bad if you didn’t wash it.

so, you did. mostly everything you did from that point on was to distract yourself from thinking about sunghoon. every now and then, you remembered what had happened with jake and there was a throbbing ache in your chest, but you pushed the thoughts away.

it was easier to think about sunghoon, to wonder how many things you really knew about him, this man that had taken on the role of father for the past five years of your life. after all, it was never him coming to you for advice on life, but you supposed that made sense. he was older than you, had gone through many of the things you were experiencing for the first time, and had the benefit of hindsight.

still, you were curious about him and the many years that had shaped him into the person he was now. were they kind? every person had their fair share of hardships and encounters with adversity, at least in some fashion, but you hoped he’d had it relatively easy. you knew what it was like to suffer and you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy, much less him.

the efforts to distract yourself went on for so long that you even ended up making dinner, considering that your mother wasn’t home for whatever reason and you figured sunghoon would be hungry when he came back; you were hungry, and you hadn’t even done anything but think about him excessively.

like clockwork, sunghoon came in through the foyer and went to the kitchen, spotting you putting the finishing touches on dinner. “you’re cooking?”

you laughed at his surprise and nodded your head, turning off the stove. “i’m basically finished now,” you chirped, donning oven mittens. “i told you, i cook sometimes.”

sunghoon leaned against the counter, watching you take a pan out of the oven. “smells good,” he commented, humming in approval. “is your mother home?”

“nope,” you replied, setting the pan down on the stove. you had no idea where she was, nor did you care as long as she was safe.

“mm.”

you turned around to face sunghoon, taking a deeper look at him. he looked tired, exhausted even. you knew he would always deny how bad it was, though. “hungry?”

sunghoon bobbed his head and set a hand on his stomach. “starving.”

you and sunghoon sat down at the table beside each other and ate dinner, talking in between bites. your heart warmed to see how delighted he was while eating, the smile on his face at the first spoonful putting one on yours. your relationship with your mother had always been strained, but you had to thank her for teaching you how to cook.

while you had contemplated bringing up what you had seen earlier during dinner, every time you tried willing yourself to mention it to sunghoon, you got nervous and didn’t follow through. it wasn’t like it was something you were supposed to know about and you knew that by mentioning it, you would be telling on yourself.

not only that, but you didn’t know how sunghoon would feel about telling you about it, or if he would even want to talk about it. the last thing you wanted to do was overstep your boundaries, which was something you probably had already done the second you went into his bedroom and pried into his personal belongings.

after the dishes were washed, something sunghoon volunteered to help you take care of, you followed him into the living room where he usually went to relax after work. you managed to stay quiet for all of fifteen minutes before the guilt overwhelmed you and you apologized, “i’m sorry.”

sunghoon turned his attention way from the television to look at you, brows furrowing. “for what?”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. you could have gotten away with it, but it didn’t feel right not to mention. “i went into your room today.”

sunghoon didn’t mind you being in his bedroom, but it was unusual that you were there when you had your own. “why?”

you smiled anxiously, fidgeting with your hands. that was the important part. you left out what you had done with the hoodie, deciding he didn’t need to know that. “i just did,” you replied, your voice quiet. “but that’s not the part i’m apologizing for. i saw something under your bed. and, i looked through it.”

sunghoon’s face changed, something more melancholy tensing his features. “oh.”

“i’m sorry,” you repeated, faint. the look on his face made you feel even more guilty than you already had.

sunghoon pat the top of your head, as if he knew that you needed the reassurance. “it’s okay,” he said, smiling thinly. “i guess you have questions now, don’t you?”

you nodded reluctantly. those questions were essentially all you had thought about it since you discovered that box underneath his bed. “i do, but… you don’t need to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

“it’s alright,” sunghoon replied, exhaling. that shroud of melancholy was still hanging over him. “she was my daughter.”

your heart stopped. “…was?”

for a moment, sunghoon was silent and he didn’t immediately respond. you wondered if you had said the wrong thing, overthinking everything you were doing. he exhaled yet another breath and replied, “she passed away six years ago. car accident.”

that explained everything, but now you felt worse than you had before and it was killing you. “daddy…”

it looked like it pained him to talk about it, but he did it anyway. “i was married before i met your mother,” he explained. “everything was good. we had a few problems, but hey, no marriage is completely perfect. my ex-wife took our daughter out and they were coming back home when they got into a car accident. she wasn’t paying attention. she lived; our daughter didn’t.”

you were silent. you didn’t know what to say.

tensing a little, sunghoon continued, “we had a divorce because i blamed her, and i couldn’t stand to be around her anymore. i don’t think i can ever forgive her for being so reckless.”

“i wish that never happened to you, daddy. you didn’t deserve that,” you said compassionately.

“you lost someone, too.”

the thought of your father left a sour taste, and to be frank, you never wanted to think about him again. “yeah, my dad left me, but at least the bastard’s still alive. if i wanted to talk to him, i could. but you don’t have that option.”

sunghoon’s eyes flitted over you and he reached out to push your hair out of your face. “that’s why i want to protect you, doll. you mean more to me than you will ever know.”

there your heart went again, acting a fool at the smallest words and actions. “you mean a lot to me, too.”

after much internal wavering, sunghoon reluctantly confessed, “i was never going to tell you this, but when i met your mother, part of what i liked about her was that she had a daughter. just a year younger than my daughter would be. and i wanted her back. i wanted her back so badly. so to me, it felt like god was giving me a second chance.”

your eyes flickered. you had always wondered what it was he liked about your mother in the first place. they made a strange pair; he seemed so different from her type, and his personality was much softer than hers. “really?”

“that’s why i tried so hard in the beginning to grow on you. even though it couldn’t have been more obvious that you didn’t want anything to do with me,” he told you lightheartedly.

you giggled, remembering how much you had been against your mother getting married to this man you barely knew. “you’re a great father,” you whispered. “thank you for not giving up halfway.”

“i’ll never give up on you.”

you were beaming. “i know.”

this conversation had taken a different direction than you had initially expected, but ultimately, you were happy with it. you had been so afraid of him getting upset with you, and though it would have been justified, you knew rationally that it just wasn’t in his nature.

at least, not when it came to you. you had noticed the anger bristling within him when he spoke of the mother of his child; it made you angry on his behalf. but even then, sunghoon’s anger was nothing like the kind you had grown up surrounded with. it wasn’t loud, aggressive, or dangerous. it was quiet, composed, restrained.

much like the rest of him.

in the time that you had spent thinking about sunghoon’s life and all the secrets it contained, you had figured something out about yourself. “i’m going to break up with jake,” you announced.

though he didn’t expect the topic change, sunghoon couldn’t hide his relief. “what took you so long?”

you chuckled, because that was a good question, to be fair. “well, for one, at least to my knowledge, he hadn’t cheated on me until now,” you retorted.

the anger was back, only this time, you swore it had a more hostile air to it than ever. “he did what?” sunghoon exclaimed.

you shrugged your shoulders. it wasn’t that it didn’t bother you, because it did. come to think about it, it mostly hurt because you would have never done the same thing to him, no matter how much you lusted after your stepfather.

taking a deep, frustrated breath, you explained, “yeah. long story short, when he came over the other day, it was because i had agreed to have sex with him. but when he saw my room for the first time, he basically called me childish and said he wasn’t doing it there. then he marched out.”

sunghoon shook his head, but he wasn’t surprised. at least you had enough self-respect to end it now. he was starting to become afraid that he would need to shake some sense into you.

jake had served a purpose. he was unbelievably handsome, undoubtedly smart, and told you everything that you wanted to hear. he distracted you from what you were really after, and in return, you ignored what he was really after.

there was a large part of you that felt ashamed for lying to yourself for so long. but now you were being honest. you owed yourself that much. “i was so stupid. part of the reason i didn’t want to have sex with him was because i wanted him to stay, and i wasn’t sure if he would still choose me afterwards. i was scared he would get what he wanted and leave. but the reason i agreed to have sex with him was because i could feel him getting bored and pulling away. and in the end, he left me anyway.”

you had already decided you weren’t going to hold it against him, because you were both guilty of something. you had lied to each other, taken advantage of each other, and bled dry each other. both of you had tried to force something that was never really there. you would never forgive him for cheating, but you could understand him leaving.

sunghoon listened intently, watching your face as you talked about your relationship and what went wrong. he picked out his words, not wanting to be blinded by his lack of disappointment. “you’re not stupid for wanting someone to like you.”

your eyes met his. i want you to like me, you thought to yourself, wishful. “am i stupid for staying even though i knew deep down that it wasn’t really me that he liked?”

“no, doll,” sunghoon replied gently, bracing a hand on your knee. “you’re just disillusioned.”

you chuckled. “you sure you’re not just saying that?”

sunghoon squeezed your knee, giving you comfort that he knew you needed. it would be complicated, you already knew, coping with your feelings for him now that you wouldn’t have jake’s shenanigans to distract you. not that they really ever helped. “you’re young. even your mind has a mind of its own. i think it’s only stupid if you make the same mistake twice.”

you hummed, knowing that that probably wouldn’t be happening. you weren’t the type of person to jump from relationship to relationship. you were too afraid of abandonment for that. you could only handle so many of them before you snapped.

as sunghoon looked at you, he couldn’t help but feel guilty, thinking maybe he should have done more to keep you safe from a boy like that. but you were an adult now, and he was trying to give you the space to take care of yourself on your own. “did you ever really like jake?” he asked after a pause.

“i think i just liked feeling wanted,” you murmured, ashamed of your own stupidity.

sunghoon let that sink in. he knew you had been dealing with certain insecurities for years, and the thought that he still had yet been able to help you made him feel worthless. “what kind of boyfriend do you want?”

there was a lull of silence as you thought about it thoroughly. you had liked jake because you thought he could be everything you should have wanted, but he wasn’t necessarily your type. “someone who’s tender,” you decided, something jake selectively was. “someone who’s assertive, protective, and takes care of me.”

“mm.”

your heart was racing, but somehow you found the courage to add, “someone like you.”

sunghoon tried to rationalize that, he truly did. in his mind, the idea of wanting someone who embodied the traits of a strong father figure was a perfectly normal desire. but he wasn’t an idiot, and he could hear everything you didn’t say, and recognize the sudden change in your body language.

because you didn’t want a boyfriend; you wanted a father.

sighing, sunghoon relaxes his eyes for a second before he opens them again, taking in how fragile you appear and feel beneath his heavy hands. “doll, you’re my daughter.”

“stepdaughter,” you corrected in a heartbeat.

sunghoon ignored you, continuing, “and you’re so young.”

“i’m eighteen,” you replied, heart thudding so fast you couldn’t stay still. “i’m an adult.”

sunghoon didn’t seem pleased, or convinced for that matter. it was as you feared; he would always see you as this little girl that needed saving. “you may legally be an adult,” sunghoon started, quiet. “but mentally, you are still a little girl.”

that stung. you never knew sunghoon was capable of it until now, but he had really burned you with such few words. your eyes even burned with the threat of tears. “if that’s how you feel,” you murmured, standing up from the sofa.

sunghoon softened, immediately regretting having ever said anything. “doll, wait.”

you didn’t, making a beeline straight for the stairs. you weren’t sure what you were expecting. he thought of himself as your father and he was married to your mother. why would he see you like that?

why did you see him like that?

to make matters worse, sunghoon didn’t follow you. you didn’t turn around, but the lack of footsteps behind you wasn’t lost on your ears. pretending it didn’t bother you, you went to your bedroom, shut the door, and dropped on your bed.

maybe you should have been grateful that your biggest problem in life was unreciprocated feelings. you knew there were all too many things you had to be grateful for, especially things sunghoon provided for you, like education and a nice home and fatherly love. there was no good reason to expect more than that from him. maybe you were just greedy.

or maybe you were needy. at worst, you were a little bit of both, but that wasn’t completely your fault. when bred from incompetence and instability, no one could rationally expect anything but insanity. if no one had ever given you a fair chance at normalcy, then no one could expect you to know how to reinvent yourself into something ordinary.

it was just so exhausting to be continuously rejected, because you were too this or not enough of that. you never knew how to be what anyone wanted. you never knew how to make anyone stay. just once, you wanted someone to care for you the same way you cared about them, and nothing less.

just when you were beginning to accept that you were hopeless, there was a knock on your door. wiping at your eyes, you reluctantly called out, “it’s open.”

sunghoon came in, shutting the door behind him, heart clenching in his chest when he noticed your reddening eyes. “calm down yet?” he asked.

you shrugged your shoulders, but murmured, “i don’t know if i’ll ever calm down.”

he could tell that you didn’t just mean the exchange downstairs; no, whatever storm was raging and rushing within you unbeknownst to him, it was only festering. “i try not to say the wrong things,” sunghoon said, slowly coming to sit beside you on the edge of your bed.

you knew that. it was something you had come to like about him. he was careful, loving. it was never his intention to hurt anyone. but he was only human, and humans made mistakes and had lapses in judgment. “maybe you weren’t wrong. maybe i’m just immature.”

“maybe a little bit,” sunghoon told you, frank, but lighthearted. “but i could have said it a little better.”

you rolled your eyes, almost feeling better already. but the faint echo in your heart had yet to cease. “you don’t need to sugarcoat everything for me all the time, you know.”

sunghoon hummed. you were saying that, but he knew that he could break you into pieces if he wanted. tinier, more insignificant pieces than the ones you already were broken into. but he wouldn’t. he was realizing the full scope of power he wielded over you, and now that he knew, he wanted to be cautious. “i think i understand you now.”

your eyes leapt up to his face, almost like you were begging for that to be true. “what do you mean?”

“why you do the things you do,” sunghoon continued, dabbing at a tear that had fallen down your cheeks. “you don’t want a boyfriend. you want a father.”

saying nothing, you fidgeted with your thumbs and held your breath. you weren’t used to having your heart laid flat on the table.

sunghoon stopped you, setting his palm on the back of your hand. “you want me,” he said, making you wish you could disappear. “and that’s why you kept saying that you didn’t really want jake, but never explained to me why you kept dating.”

you leaned your head on his shoulder. “i love you so much, daddy.”

sunghoon’s heart was pounding in ways it hadn’t in a long time. “i know you do, baby girl. but you know that this isn’t right.”

“i don’t care.”

sunghoon sighed. “i’ve known you since you were thirteen, doll.”

“so? am i thirteen right now?”

“no, but you’re barely legal.”

“i’m legal. you don’t need to put unnecessary adverbs in front of it. i’m not some kid, daddy.”

there was no doubt that sunghoon was trying to change your mind, hoping to say something that would make you realize how foolish this was. too bad for him, you were too far gone. “your mother…,” he started.

“i don’t care,” you repeated a little harsher. “you told me yourself, you basically married her for me. and all she does is leech off you. i know it and you know it. we don’t even know where she is right now. say that you love her more than you love me, say it!”

“i don’t like your tone right now, doll,” sunghoon told you, stern, but level.

obeying the silent command in his voice, you quietened, murmuring, “i’m sorry, daddy.”

sunghoon sighed, stuck between a rock and a hard place. he put a hand on your thigh. “but you’re right. i do love you more.”

“then, prove it,” you whispered, inviting him. daring him. prove that you love me. prove that you’re just as sick as i am. prove to me that i have you in every way, that i’m not alone.

sunghoon knew that he shouldn’t. he was considering everything you had failed to acknowledge - your mother, his marriage, proper morality, and the fate of his relationship with you. but where he had been ignorant to your fermenting feelings, he hadn’t failed to notice exactly how much you had grown up.

the way your body had matured. the way you’d began coordinating your signature scents into something that was indisputably yours. the way your taste in fashion had changed from fluffy, pink skirts to short ones that were one wrong move away from flashing your plush cheeks and the cute, thin fabric of your underwear clinging tightly onto your cunt it just hardly concealed.

sunghoon had, too, noticed, and been rather fond of, how you were usually the meekest thing in the world only for him. with enough conditioning, in a world that was darker, he could put a gun in your hand and turn you into his little obedient vixen. you just wanted to heal him, please him, satisfy him.

but it would be wrong. and sunghoon had once prided himself on the fact that he did everything right. he got the most compelling grades in school to prove that he had genuine smarts to pair with his wealth, he went to a top university and worked hard, he got a job straight after graduation, met who he thought was the perfect woman, married her, bought a opulent house with her, and had a beautiful daughter with her.

so what if he still had to repeat a couple of steps, and so what if he had messed up on a few? at least he didn’t mess up on you. the only thing he regretted when it came to you was not completely noticing, not doing more to keep you from struggling.

you were more than just a reclaim of what he had lost. sunghoon didn’t think of his first daughter when he thought of you, not anymore. with you getting older and growing into your own person, your own way of life, it was difficult to see her in you. so, he accepted you as your own person, and in turn, he let go.

but that fact didn’t make him feel any less guilty or conflicted. you were still his stepdaughter, and you trusted him to protect you. your mother trusted him to protect you. everybody trusted him to guide you, steer you, lead you.

looking into his brown, troubled eyes, you instantly knew what it meant. he needed some persuasion, something to hinder his overthinking.

“please,” you pleaded, resting a hand on his lower abdomen just as gingerly as the way he handled you in mind and in body. he was still in his work shirt, broad shoulders catching your eye as you succumbed to the urge to rub your smooth palms over them.

look at you, begging him to fuck you. gazing up at him with those big, hopeful eyes with a shimmer that was so sweetly sparkling he almost mistook it as innocent. but he knew better. those were eyes that hoped for corruption, that sought comfort in destruction, and that were molded into the puppet of pain.

you lowered your hand again, stopping just shy of his crotch hidden by his work pants. fumbling with the fly, you looked into his eyes, searching for something. any indication that he was resisting. but you only saw him watching like even he didn’t know what he wanted.

it was surprising. you had been half expecting him to put his hand over yours and stop you, to remind you again that this was wrong and he didn’t see you how you saw him, but he just kept his eyes focused on you as if he was trying to see just how far you would go.

testing the waters, you undid his pants and went straight for his cock, the sound of a strained grunt making your cunt clench around emptiness. it was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard. you had imagined pulling those sounds out of sunghoon, closed your eyes and immersed yourself in a resewn fabric of another reality, but nothing measured up to hearing it for yourself.

sunghoon knew that things were rapidly approaching the point of no return and he groaned, “doll…”

“make me stop,” you whispered, gently wrapping your fingers around him and moving your hand in a relaxed motion. “make me stop, daddy.”

it wasn’t for lack of trying. sunghoon closed his eyes, wanting to will himself to be the rational person in the room since you had forwent reason entirely, but the second your small, supple hands tightened around his shaft, he knew he had failed.

he didn’t want you to stop. and you you didn’t want to stop, either.

you beamed victoriously, his silence being a telltale sign that he had succumbed to the same infectious wanting that had long plagued you. you moved your hand only a little faster, endeavoring to stroke him hard. it seemed that with every touch and movement of your wrist, his breathing was growing louder, more labored.

when he was fully hard, you had to suck in a gasp. you weren’t sure how you were going to fit every inch of him inside you, and the only thing that seemed clear was that you had your work cut out for you. nevertheless, you still wanted to make him feel good, so you glanced up at him and said sweetly, “tell me what to do. teach me, daddy.”

you caught a quiet, “fuck,” from underneath sunghoon’s breath as he heard what you had said, on the verge of losing his mind altogether, and it was doing unmistakable damage to his psyche. doing the right thing was no longer an option. all that was left was ache and need. without it, you didn’t know who you were.

releasing a shaky breath, sunghoon brushed his thumb against your bottom lip with affection and whispered, “take it in your mouth. go slow and gentle.”

you nodded your head obediently, opening your mouth just wide enough to fit his girth between your parted lips. the first inch was fine; the second inch had its complications, given that you hadn’t adjusted to the pressure of his cock in your mouth and breathing through your nose. by the third, you folded, withdrawing.

“i’m sorry,” you murmured, feeling like you should have at least been able to do that much.

sunghoon shook his head, smiling, and smoothed a hand through your hair. “that’s okay, baby,” he said, understanding. “try again.”

you sucked him into your mouth again, right between your lips, cheeks hollowed and everything, but for some odd reason, you couldn’t relax. you already felt like you were about to gag and it was only the first couple of inches. when you tried to take another, you had to pull back again.

there was a faint burning in the back of your throat. you didn’t even notice that a few tears had fallen from one of your eyes until you pulled your mouth off. you frowned, unable to shake the fear that you would disappoint him somehow if you couldn’t do it.

“you’re okay,” sunghoon reassured you, patting your head. “you’re okay, doll. i promise.”

with another nod, you decided to give it one more go, determined. not only because you wanted to prove yourself, but because you wanted to make him feel good. you couldn’t think of anyone that deserved it more than he did.

this time, sunghoon held your hair comfortably behind your head and caressed the strands as you tried to pleasure him once more, accepting what you could into your mouth bit by bit. you were less tense than before and it enabled you to concentrate on breathing and not overwhelming yourself too quickly.

afraid that you would gag again if you tried to take another inch, you decided to use your hand to take care of the remaining amount that wouldn’t fit. fortunately, it seemed to work; your mouth kept one part of him company, and your hands moved to prevent the other from becoming too neglected.

sunghoon moaned, curses falling here and there. you could feel the wetness soiling your underwear and he hadn’t even done anything yet. his voice was low and deep, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core. minute by minute, you became more and more aware of how aroused you were, and your mind, friend and foe, tempted you with pictures of what it would be like to finally have sunghoon inside.

to your surprise, sunghoon cautiously pried you off his cock, making you look up at him and wonder if you had done something wrong, but all he said was, “i don’t want to come yet.”

your thighs squeezed together in excitement. if not now, then later. and if not in your mouth, then hopefully deep, deep inside.

“daddy,” you called out, somewhat timid. “are you gonna fuck me?”

sunghoon was maybe a few seconds away from short-circuiting and it was admirable that he hadn’t done so already, all things considered. he didn’t reply immediately, having to catch his breath. “do you want me to?”

“yes,” you replied in a heartbeat.

the room felt hot, and sunghoon couldn’t tell if it was real or it was in his head. “say it.”

it was a little awkward for you to say it so bluntly, but given that you had come this far, you might as well. “i want you to fuck me, daddy.”

sunghoon grunted and said something that sounded like, “come here,” as he gingerly pulled you off your knees and back onto your mattress. before you even blinked, he was pressing his lips to yours, enveloping them in a sweet, fiery kiss.

it felt like a daydream. maybe because you had dreamed of him before and this captured the exact floaty, cloudlike feeling of his arms cushioning your body in a dream, only the speeding thud in your heart making it undeniably real.

you couldn’t liken it to any kiss that you and jake had shared. while you would admit that jake was objectively a good kisser, almost everything you did together lacked passion; there was no spark behind even the most tender of touches. and yet somehow just being this close to sunghoon made your whole body scorch with the fever of suppressed want.

sunghoon slowly forced himself away and began to descend down your body, tugging your shorts down your thighs. heat filled your cheeks when his fingers hooked under your underwear next, but you raised your hips so that he could pull them off. what caught you by surprise, however, was when his tongue flicked over your sensitive flesh.

you gasped, a jolt making your body snap. “wait, daddy, you don’t need to. i’m already wet enough.”

that you were. sunghoon could see plain as day how your wet folds glistened with an arousal that had been building longer than he could ever imagine, gone ignored and neglected no longer. “i know,” he grunted out. “i want to.”

then without another word, sunghoon went to town. he started slow, gentle; his larger hands were firm on your plush thighs as he held them apart, almost as if he expected you to eventually resist him. for now, though, there was no need; he was tasting your devotion on his tongue, in no apparent hurry to let this moment end.

your breaths were becoming increasingly heavy, and a part of you still couldn’t believe that this was really happening - sunghoon was in between your legs, prepared to make you seen every star that hung in the night sky. you did what you could to commit the sight to memory, refusing to let it get away.

sunghoon wanted to see you unravel. you nearly died when he pressed his tongue deep inside you, abruptly tearing a sweet cry out of your mouth. the muscle wandered over your walls, savoring what he would feel soon enough. but for now, he was more than content to gather every bit of your arousal on the very tip of his tongue and make you feel sensations unimagined.

“god, you taste so good, baby,” sunghoon groaned, hands clamping tightly around your thighs. “so goddamn good.”

it was from that moment forward he lost control; his self-restraint broke; he was consumed with abandon. sunghoon licked and sucked at your bundle of nerves, drawing out more noises than before. your hips jerked as you laid sprawled out before him, entirely at his mercy.

just the way you always wanted.

“does that feel good, baby?” sunghoon pulled away for the shortest second to ask. “do you want me to slow down?”

you shook your head, hands desperately fisting the sheets. “no, please. don’t slow down. down stop,” you begged.

hearing you say that only made sunghoon harder, but he was still a man with some inhibitions if it meant drawing out the pleasure you felt at his hands. “just tell me if you need me to switch things up, okay?”

then he went back to work. this time he steadily worked two fingers into you, and you knew without a shred of doubt that you were positively ruined. they were long and thick, much more compared to yours; you would probably feel his cock for days to come.

you could feel yourself devolving into pure madness. sunghoon’s fingers were working you open at the same time his tongue flicked over your clit, and you could hardly keep still, your body convulsing every which way. if not for how tight his hands were around your trembling thighs, you wouldn’t have been able to keep them spread for him.

“daddy, please don’t stop. i think i’m gonna come,” you said between quick pants.

“i know, baby girl. just relax for me.”

with every nerve in your body going haywire, you felt anything but relaxed. between your thudding heartbeat and the ecstasy shooting its way through your spine, your body was bursting at the seams with fervor. but you tried for him. you couldn’t think, at least. there was too much physical stimulation to allow for passing thoughts.

sunghoon only had only goal in mind and that was to make you feel nothing short of the absolute peak of pleasure. he could see what things your body was responding to best and he took advantage of every reaction you had to offer, twisting his tongue the way you so clearly loved.

you couldn’t handle it anymore, and something within you snapped; you cried out, back arching off your fluffy pink bed, jake and the stupid stuffed toys the furthest thing on your mind as warmth fluttered in your stomach.

“that’s it, doll,” sunghoon crooned. “you’re okay, baby. i promise. just let go.”

all the while, his fingers didn’t stop as he spoke. they kept moving as he assured you between gentle kisses to your thighs, almost as restless as your entire body was. “daddy,” you whimpered, thoroughly wrecked.

“i know,” sunghoon whispered, lips flush against your skin. “you did so good, doll. so good for me.”

sunghoon got up from his knees and draped himself over your body, leaning down to kiss you breathless. though you tried to ignore it, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you and just the feeling itself was mouthwatering.

“so perfect,” sunghoon murmured, pulling back to pepper kisses down your jaw. “did you really think daddy wasn’t gonna make sure his doll was taken care of?”

you had nothing to say, so you just watched him begin to peel off what was left of both of your clothes, piece by piece. when you completely naked, you noticed sunghoon’s unbudging eyes stuck to your figure. “do you think i’m pretty, daddy?” you asked with a smile.

“pretty?” he murmured, brows stitched in amazement. “you’re… you’re beautiful, doll. don’t you forget it.”

you wanted to hear him say that a thousand times over.

even as sunghoon moved to reposition himself between your legs, you could hardly believe that this was actually - genuinely - happening. but every touch of his body had felt so real, and you’d dreamed of moments like this enough to know the difference. giving you one last chance to back out, sunghoon asked, “are you sure you want to do this, baby?”

“please,” you begged. the brushing of his tip against your slick folds made your mouth run dry. “i need it. i need you.”

that was all it took for sunghoon to push inside you, slow and steady as ever. you sucked in a breath, your hands already clenching the sheets again as he coaxed the head of his cock deeper inside your sticky cunt.

“oh my god,” you gasped out.

sunghoon chuckled. “i’m barely inside you, baby.”

you knew that, but the feeling of him inside you even this far was enough to make your mind unravel. you’d imagined that it would be a tight fit, but despite him preparing you to take him, that seemed like an understatement. though you were nothing if not purely determined. you would take all of him, no matter how long it took.

sunghoon’s brows furrowed the deeper he sunk into you, his jaw slacked. “god, you’re so tight,” he murmured. to sunghoon, this was the moment that cemented everything into reality, the moment that made everything true. the tight, wet feel of you stretching around his cock as he moved deeper and deeper was too insane to be imagined even if he tried. and he had tried.

your chest and core fluttered at the compliment. you enjoyed the praise. knowing that you were satisfying him, that you were pleasuring him the way he was pleasuring you, was something that filled you with an immense sense of accomplishment. there was nothing you wanted more than to serve him, than to be his girl.

sunghoon took his time, still hardly moving. every time he heard you abruptly suck in a gasp, his hips ground to a stop, wanting to give you time to adjust. he knew better than anyone that he wasn’t lacking in the size category, and the last thing he wanted was to make his sweet girl’s first time uncomfortable. for the right reasons, he wanted to give you a time to remember.

“do you need a minute, doll?” he asked, one brow lifted as he glanced down at you.

you shook your head. “no, it’s okay. you can keep going.”

“you sure?” he pressed. it would be a lie if he said he wasn’t dying to move even deeper, but not at your expense.

not to mention that your mother probably wouldn’t return until after midnight, but that was another conversation.

“i’m sure, daddy,” you replied, reaching out to cradle his face in your hands. you didn’t want him to look away. “don’t stop.”

“fuck,” sunghoon groaned. you watched his lips part with the noise and felt his cock become buried further inside your cunt, working you open for him. he was taking his sweet time, because you both knew that if he was going to destroy you, he was going to make every second of it count.

“daddy, are you almost done?” you asked quietly.

“halfway, babe,” sunghoon told you.

you gawked. “halfway?”

sunghoon shushed you with a kiss, pushing himself yet another inch within your heat. he couldn’t wrap his mind around how perfect you felt around his cock and he wasn’t even fully seated inside you yet. you tried to focus on the way his lips moved against yours, but not even that could distract you from how he was stretching you out beyond belief.

“daddy, you’re so big,” you whined.

“i know, baby girl,” sunghoon replied softly, a hint of guilt on his face. “almost there, i promise. does it hurt?”

“a little bit,” you admitted. “but i can take it.”

sunghoon swept his finger over your bottom lip. “you sure, baby?”

you nodded your head. for him, you were convinced that you could do anything. and on top of that, there were no bounds to the things that you would do for him.

when sunghoon’s length had finally penetrated you to the very end, he stilled again, giving you a moment to recover before he started. it felt like an eternity before he actually moved, but when you gave him a nod of approval, he slowly drew back and penetrated you again. you were at a lost for words. nothing had ever been inside you that deeply. there were your fingers and maybe a hair brush, but neither rivaled the depth of your stepfather’s thick cock as he began to take you like you were his.

because you were.

“jesus christ,” sunghoon hissed. “you feel so good, doll. do you know that?”

“you feel good too,” you stammered out.

sunghoon took that as a sign that he was doing everything right, which was more than enough for him to relax. his mind was reeling. the mere wet sound of your skin meeting was making him lose control, and that was to say nothing of your pretty moans. the way you desperately called out for him was almost too much to bear.

you reciprocated his feelings. with every deep, guttural grunt that escaped sunghoon’s mouth, your body was less and less yours. he owned you, head to toe, inside out. you were more than prepared to surrender everything to him, to let him claim all that you were. because you relied on him. you needed him. and little did you know, in some twisted way, he needed you even more.

sunghoon’s hands were balled at your sides, clenching the sheets fiercely. he dreaded hurting you, but imagine his surprise when you grabbed a hold of his hands and redirected them to your perfect hips. “you can hold me, daddy,” you reassured him. “please. i won’t break.”

and even if you did, you were willing to let him put you back together. sunghoon could feel whatever remained of his restraint crumbling into pieces, and he held your hips in his palms tightly, his eyes boring into yours. his gaze, as relentless as it was, wasn’t challenging; it was piercing, loving, understanding. he saw you, he knew you, because you were familiar. you were what kept him whole.

something made sunghoon hold you even tighter. there was a thought that struck him. you needed him to take care of you, to depend upon, to guide you. and he needed you to bring back a purpose which was unfairly stolen from him. he knew it was wrong, that it was sick, but it couldn’t be helped. you had become everything to him, and there was no way in hell he was going to let that go.

“i need you,” he panted, his hips keeping a comfortable pace that you seemed to enjoy, judging from how you continued to throb and moan. “i need you so much, doll. you don’t understand.”

you shook your head, arms wrapped around his neck. you wanted to be inseparably close. “i do understand, daddy,” you insisted. “i need you too.”

sunghoon felt heat surging through his stomach. he said your name. “i love you.”

your lips curled into a smile. your body shook with rapture, so much that you thought you could cry. “i love you too, daddy. i love you so much. i’d let you have me whenever. i’m yours and i wanna take care of you.”

“mine?” sunghoon repeated, so quietly it could have gone unheard if not for how close his face was to yours.

you nodded your head.

sunghoon prodded, “all mine? and not that stupid little boy you call a boyfriend?”

the mere mention of jake made you feel disgust and you knew that you were over him, for good. “won’t see him anymore, daddy. i promise. i never wanted him. i always really just wanted you.”

sunghoon didn’t even bother willing himself to keep calm after he heard you say that. he was insane about you and he didn’t care to hide it anymore. “always?” he repeated.

you hummed. “the first time i came was on that bunny rabbit right there.” you turned your head to gesture towards the stuffed animal.

sunghoon saw it and his eyes darkened as he pictured you mounting the poor bunny, grinding your hips against it as you wished and hoped and prayed it’d soon enough be him bringing you pleasure. he wondered exactly how many times you had used it. how many times you had thought of him.

you cried out as his hips began slap against yours faster, but you took it. sunghoon wasn’t particularly rough, but each thrust drove you closer to insanity than the last. wrapping your legs around your waist, you drew him closer, your arms around his neck and his big hands firm at your hips. “fuck,” you stammered.

“you think about me a lot?” sunghoon asked.

you nodded your head eagerly. “yes, all the time!”

sunghoon was unrelenting. he lowered his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, before he let it fall and pressed, “how much do you think about me?”

“every day,” you told him honestly. “there’s not one day… where i don’t.”

“every day?” sunghoon repeated. “you think about me fucking you every day?”

“sometimes i dream about it,” you confessed.

sunghoon groaned. he had dreamed of you too. he had constantly tried not to think about you in that light, but he couldn’t help what he dreamed of. “i dream about you too,” he whispered. “of making love to you and fucking you full of my cum. will you let me, doll?”

“yes,” you answered him without a second of hesitation. “please, daddy. come inside me!”

sunghoon almost came just from hearing those words, but he couldn’t yet. not before he felt you tighten around his cock with climax. removing his hand from his hip, he began to toy with your sensitive clit, eager and desperate to make you come, to see you come, to feel you come.

your body arched into his hand, knowing who its owner was and willing to submit to his every whim. it felt like your mind was floating somewhere between earth and heaven, lost in space where there was no life, no time. only infinity.

it wasn’t long before your vision brightened white and you swore you could see every star. your legs tightened their grip around his waist as you shuddered with ecstasy, and your mouth hung open as you moaned.

“that’s it,” sunghoon crooned. “good girl. you’re amazing, doll.”

you stilled after a moment, sated.

the sensation of your cunt gushing tightly around him as you orgasmed made sunghoon moan himself, and you listened to the sounds of your heat kneading his cock as he used your cunt to push himself to the end. it had felt so good to you too; having something to grip on as you came made the experience all that much better.

“come for me, daddy,” you said, trying to coax the orgasm out of him. “come inside your doll… i need it.”

that did it. hearing you referring to yourself as his doll sent him completely over the edge and you gasped out loud when you felt sunghoon dumping his thick, sticky hot load into your cunt with the deepest grunt of your name. it was so good, so warm. you held eye contact with him the entire time, not once daring to look away even as his hips slowed to a stop.

for a long moment, you both simply lay there in each other’s arms, neither of you wanting to move when you were this close. but you did pull him in for another heated kiss, because you couldn’t think of another way to somehow bring yourself even closer. sunghoon kissed you back passionately, holding your body against his protectively, almost as if he was afraid you’d be taken from him too.

you thought nothing could ruin the moment. then, out of the blue, your phone rang. you and sunghoon both let out a collective sigh of exasperation and you withdrew to peak at your phone on your nightstand, wholeheartedly expecting it to be your mother.

your eyes went wide when you saw that it was jake.

and you wouldn’t have answered it, but you needed to call it quits anyway. though you initially planned to meet him in person, in that moment, you decided he didn’t deserve to see you again in his life. “hello?” you answered.

“baby, you picked up,” jake said, sounding amazed. “listen to me, baby. i’m so sorry i haven’t been answering your calls. i just needed some space, you understand that, right?”

before he could utter another word, the phone was abruptly snatched from your hands. “don’t call my daughter again, or i swear to god, i will find you, and then i will fuck you up,” sunghoon hissed.

he hung up without another word and tossed the phone to the side.

you gawked at his words, but you both felt the way you’d throbbed. “daddy!”

“quiet,” sunghoon said, withdrawing from inside you. “now show me what you did to the bunny.”

#park sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #enha x reader #park sunghoon x reader

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enhastqr · 4 days ago

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𓉸　18+

jake grabbed your hips as his fat cock drilled into you from behind. your eyes rolled back from the pleasure and behind you, he groaned while biting down on his pretty plump bottom lip. in the room all you heard were your sweet high pitched moans that sounded pornographic, skin clapping, the sound of his ball hitting your ass, and him. he sounded so fucking perfect, each groan, moan, or whimper had you clenching around his dick. and god, did he know how to dirty talk. “you like that? hm? you like this cock drilling into your tight pussy?”, “that’s it, baby. fuck yourself on your dick.”, “i’m gonna fill this pretty pussy up”, “gonna fuck you until you cream all over my cock.” he knew what you wanted to hear and that only enabled your orgasm to come quicker. especially when those words came out with that hot accent of his. you could simply unravel just from it. he was pounding into you, like there was no tomorrow. with his tip hitting your cervix, you could feel him in your stomach. “please, jakey! i need to cum.” he slapped your ass, hard leaving his handprint behind. the feeling made your body jerk and cum hard making the male behind you grip onto your hips tighter. “i didn’t say you could cum. now, you’re going take this dick like a good girl and don’t try to run from it.”

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intromortal · 2 months ago

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⭑ INCH BY INCH ⸻ park sunghoon

you have a boyfriend gifted with a pornstar cock, but he refuses to use it on you, too scared he'll end up hurting you. so your best shot is to devise a plan to get him to crumble, and even if things don't unfold quite as expected, what matters is the result anyway... right?

starring ⋆ f!reader x park sunghoon, besties!jaykewon

this work contains ⋆ smut ⋆ minors so not interact ⋆ barely any plot, way too much smut, sunghoon being diabolically hung, my extremely poor attempts at humor, established relationship, nasty nasty shit... brat tamer sunghoon, alcohol consumption, implied driving under the influence, jealousy, slut shaming (not from hoon), a tiny bit of violence, blood, size & bulge kink, fingering, dry humping, slight degradation, partially clothed sex, a freaky voice message, edging & overstim, oral (f!rec), mutual masturbation, lube, squirting, unprotected sex ⸻ rules m.list

length ⋆ one shot ⸻ 23.6k words

⭑ NIA ⸻ i'm in pain and my period is abt to start ANDD antibiotics fucked my stomach up so if you see typos no you don't. anyways. big fat cock. who agrees!! shoutout to my homies vivi and stella for putting up with my ass and deactivation threats anytime i write anything ever!!! and for having read this before anyone else

Having a dick so big multiple people suggest you make a career out of it isn't half as nice as it sounds, Sunghoon would know that better than anyone.

Even before getting any experience, he'd been aware of just how comically large his dick was. He'd known ever since he had to go out of his way to search for porn with ‘massive cock!’ in the title for it to look anything like his, and even then he often found himself thinking they had to be exaggerating a bit for the sake of clicks.

Turns out, the comparison with real life average sizes is even more ridiculous.

He knows it sounds silly, there are hordes of men out there that would pay good money to swap places with him—his dear friend Jake being the first in line.

Sunghoon still cringes when he remembers the first time he'd oh so innocently asked Jake for his opinion on the matter. Truthfully, all he wanted to hear from his bleached blonde friend was some reassurance, maybe how it was all in his head, or how at the end of the day the right person would love and appreciate every part of him no matter what, or whatever you tell people in situations like these. His first mistake was believing Jake out of all his friends would do the most tactful thing.

“That thing’s like—fucking huge!” Jake shrieked, grabbing Sunghoon’s phone out of his hands, every protest falling on deaf ears. “There’s no fucking way, man.”

“It’s not that b—” Sunghoon tries to speak, but Jake stops him before he even gets a sentence in, calling Jay’s name at the top of his lungs.

“What are you—”

“WHAT,” Jay yells back from the kitchen, over the deafening sound of the food processor in use, annoyed by Jake’s continuous interruptions that day. Of which at least four were to show him some nasty looking recipe he found on tiktok.

“You gotta come take a look at this!”

At the time, Sunghoon was still vaguely uncomfortable around Jay. He was nice enough, and he was a great roommate, so there was that at least. It was a good trade off because the other option was staying at the way too crowded shitty dorms, and he liked the privacy that this deal got him. He wasn't always on board with it, Jake had to talk him into it when high school ended, but he swore him and Jay would be the bestest of friends if only he could let his reservations behind for a little, at least give him a chance.

Sunghoon moved away halfway through the second year of high school, and for a while it felt like Jay had swapped places with him and taken the life he was supposed to live for himself. First his best friend, Jake. Then the girl of his dreams, the one he never found the courage to confess to, you.

Thing is, while Sunghoon could recognize Jay had done absolutely nothing wrong to him per se, he still felt betrayed by him in a way. Truly it was just envy.

The food processor comes to an abrupt halt, and all that can be heard from the other room is a deep sigh, followed by the sound of dragged footsteps as their tall friend walks into the messy—in the way only college boys living spaces can be—living room with resignation. “Fine. But this better have nothing to do with Cheetos or tacos.”

“Much better.” Jake winks at him, nudging Sunghoon’s hands away with his elbow, the younger hissing in pain. “Behold,” he turns the phone towards an unassuming Jay, aware of the fact he's about to change the older's view of Sunghoon forever.“Sunghoon’s monster of a cock.”

Jay’s hands stop on his apron, (the ridiculous one with a bodybuilder torso and cheetah boxers Jungwon got him for a secret Santa) and his mouth hangs open for a second too long, before he comes back to his senses and notices how Sunghoon slumps back on the couch, cheeks burning red. Jay swats the phone out of Jake’s hand. “What the fuck is your problem, dude.”

“What? I’m just saying it’s way larger than average!”

“He’s uncomfortable.” Jay says, going back to drying his hands on the apron. “Leave him be.”

This only makes Sunghoon’s cheeks redder, his ears a bright pink too. Jake scoffs, eyeing him suspiciously. “Sure. I’m sure having a porn star cock must be so mortifying. Who even complains about stuff like this?” he snickers before making his voice a pitch higher. “‘Poor me! My dick’s too heavy! What will I do!”

“Oh my god,” Sunghoon runs a hand through his hair, pulling the ends a bit. “It is not that big.” He looks at Jay for support, expecting him to disagree with Jake.

Jay’s gaze falters to his pants for a split second. His mouth twists but he remains silent.

“Not you too.” Sunghoon's hands now hold his face as he sinks into the cushions further, legs spreading. “Just say what you wanna say.”

“I mean…” Jay gestures towards Sunghoon's crotch. “I suspected you were big but… that’s crazy, man.”

“It’s not that cra—”

“Yes it is! You’ve got a fucking gas storage tank in your pants and you wanna sit here and tell us it’s not crazy?” Jake says, exasperated by that point. “And stop playing dumb. It’s big. That’s good. I’m sure the ladies go crazy over it. Or the gentlemen. Or whoever it is you fuck.” He kisses his teeth, muttering under his breath. “Lucky bastard.”

“Jake’s right, Hoon. I don’t know why you're so… negative about it. It's a good thing."

“I wouldn’t know,” Sunghoon mutters under breath, more to himself than to the guys, but it’s still loud enough for them to catch it.

“Oh? Then whenever the time comes, you’ll see how much they’ll love it,” Jay says.

"I'm just worried." Sunghoon tries his best to avoid both sets of eyes staring intently at him. "What… what if I end up hurting someone?"

Jake coos, then moves closer to Sunghoon on the couch, his breath fanning over his ear as he whispers, “Always so concerned about other people. Aren't you such a cutie pie?”

The boys weren't exactly wrong, but with big dick come great responsibilities—as Jake said. Yup, roll your eyes at him, not Sunghoon. He's innocent—like having to finger and eat out your partners for what feels like an eternity before even trying to push the tip in, which is not exactly the best situation to be in as a virgin. Current Sunghoon thinks that's the best part, but it took a while to get here.

Sunghoon has always been a very patient man though, a gentle giant in every sense of the phrase. The last thing he would ever want to do is inflict pain accidentally on another human being.

When he got his first actual girlfriend, he'd been so nervous and honestly quite scared to have sex with her. So he got on Google whenever he had free time to study ways to make it as comfortable as possible, watching all kinds of video explanations or reading through feminine pleasure blogs written by women for women specifically, because that's where Jay told him the good stuff was at.

By the time he got to actually have sex with her, his mind was so overwhelmed by all this information that he essentially forgot how to even think. It was anything but romantic, so deeply embarrassing Sunghoon still cringes even after all this time when his mind betrays him and reminds him of it while trying to fall asleep at night.

And then, to add insult to injury, his girlfriend cheated on him and left him for this guy she'd only just met, because 'it might not be as big, but at least he knows how to use it'.

Heartbroken and with an hurt ego, Sunghoon did that thing all boys do when their first relationship doesn't work out: hit the gym and promise themselves they're never gonna fall in love ever again.

That second part ended up failing, because from the moment you showed up at his doorstep to visit (your now ex boyfriend, but a beloved friend nonetheless) Jay and Jake, five different bags around you, with eyes as big as saucers and staring at him like he had invaded his own apartment, all the feelings younger Sunghoon had for you hit him like a brick to his nape all over again.

You two dating came as a shock to everyone around you, mostly because while you were aware of Park Sunghoon's existence and vice versa, you'd never given it too much thought. You remembered him as the scrawny kid with the cute moles from math that you used to always catch staring. He was often around Jungwon because they were neighbors, but was way too shy to even say hi to you. That, and he was also always around Jake—who you were not exactly fond of, given his reputation—so you steered clear of him when you could manage to.

Then, when the third year of high school started, you stopped seeing him around, and Jungwon told you he had moved away to follow his dad's business. You wouldn't admit it at the time but the hallways seemed duller than usual for a few days, but that probably was also due to Jake not being as loud and energetic with his best friend gone.

Last year of high school, you went on a few dates with Jay from history class, and while he was the closest you have ever thought a man to be perfect, you both agreed you worked better as friends than anything more. Usually that means 'you're cool but I'm gonna try my best to not have to say hi to you if I see you around', but Jay is so wonderful, you actually kept in touch and became quite close, even if platonically.

By the time the year ended, you had a very tight group of friends consisting of yourself, Jungwon, Jay, and even Jake—who, for the record, isn't nearly as bad as all the crazy rumors make him out to be. It saddened you that it took so long to find your group, but you were grateful you had one nonetheless, a lot of people never get that luxury, so you weren't about to let a little graduation get in between you all. You spent a good five days consoling Jake that no, no one was going anywhere and yes, you will all be best friends for life.

But then college started, and it became difficult to stay in touch because Jay and Jake had to move. Jake reassured you that you and Jungwon would be more than welcome to visit and stay over at their apartment—which you found funny because that is technically not Jake's apartment at all, at least not until Hoon moved in too and the three of them started sharing the costs, but he has a way of making every place he steps foot in his, like he's meant to be there, so Jay let it slide.

So the first thing you did when you finally had some free time was getting on the cheapest flight available to go visit your friends. Heavy luggage in hand and stained sweatpants on, you were dumbfounded when the one who opened the door for you was none other than Park Sunghoon, and not Jay like you expected.

He was no longer the shy kid you remembered him to be, and he had grown nicely into his features, his hair now a jet back instead of the brown you were accustomed to see. Over those two weeks you realized that while you have know Sunghoon all your life, you had never really seen him, and it made you want to go back in time and hand a little paper note to the shy boy always staring at you during class.

Your head sinks further into your pillow with a whine, the case enveloping it sporting gray spots of wetness, where your tears and drool had accumulated over the last torturous half an hour Sunghoon spent fucking you open with his fingers. You don't know what he means, because you feel like you could take his entire fist by now, that's how wet you are. If your pillowcase is such a mess, you don't even wanna think about what your bed sheets look like.

"I can– take you," you protest, breath hitching mid sentence at a particularly deep curl of his fingers inside you.

"Yeah?" Sunghoon quirks an eyebrow at you, moving his thumb to suddenly hover over your clit. It's not a full touch, nor does he really move it from there, but just the expectation of it has your walls involuntary flutter around his digits. A wicked grin overtakes his face, in a way you think it would clash with his prince-like features. But it looks right at home on him, the canines poking out only adding to his devilish charm.

"Then what's this? Gripping me even tighter," he says against your lips again, like he can't pick between kissing you or speaking, like anything he does he needs to do it with your taste on his mouth. He shakes his head, pouting at you before you get the chance to retort. "Squeeze me this tight when I'm inside you, and I'll believe you're trying to push me out, baby."

The press of his length against your thigh doesn't help, and when your eyes roll to the back of your head, half the reason is the new spot he's now reaching making you see stars, the other is your frustration with him. You know he's huge, and you know he cares about your comfort above all, but a little sting as he bottoms out inside you would be a hundred times better than the 'prep' he's subjecting you to. It took so long to even get here, and now he plans on making you wait even more? You have half the idea to push him off of you and get on top of him, take what's yours. If he's not gonna believe you can take him, you might as well just show him.

Of course, that wouldn't work, because Sunghoon is infinitely stronger than you are and the only thing you would accomplish is looking stupid thrashing under him as he keeps you pinned down. Probably with one arm only too, to really get his point across.

"Add another finger then." There's a certain bark in your tone that makes him chuckle. That's all it is: bark and no bite. You can do nothing but demand, and demand, and demand again, but if he's not willing to give it to you, there is close to nothing you can do about it. And it makes Sunghoon's cock twitch against the slick skin of your thighs. He loves knowing he has you at his mercy.

"Woah!" he gasps, and the fake surprise only irritates you further. Or at least that's what you tell yourself, because Sunghoon doesn't miss the way you clench around his fingers whenever he talks to you like this. "Missy, you're so bratty today… where are your manners?"

The retort is ready on your tongue, but the words mold into a surprised hiss when he actually prods your hole with a third digit, feeling around for a way to slowly ease it into you. You fear it won't be as easy as you hoped, but you also don't want to back down now that he's giving in.

"Just put it in." You angle your hips to give Sunghoon easier access.

"Easy there." He leans back on his knees, and you hate how you're so needy. Even when he's still so close, fingers pumping in and out of you at a torturous pace, you crave for every inch of your body to be touched by his, for your breaths to mingle for as long as possible. You wonder how it's possible to miss someone who's right in front of you, but your heart yearns to hear the rhythmic beat of his own against your chest all the same.

You don't get to dwell on it too long, because the sensation of something wet dribbling right where Sunghoon's fingers meet you rips you out of your thoughts.

It takes a few seconds for you to realize what's happening, but when it sinks in, your mouth slowly hangs open in a moan, eyes closed to relish the feeling.

"You like that?" Sunghoon asks, and for once you can't bring yourself to care about the cockiness in his tone. In fact, it's the last thing you could care about—not when his digits are working to spread his spit all over you, and his third finger is slowly making its way inside you right next to the others. It's a tight fit, and Sunghoon can't really move his fingers like he wishes to, but it'll do for now. He can always do it over and over again until you're ready, as long as you keep making those faces for him. "Look at you," he continues. "You were so demanding earlier, now you're falling apart and I'm barely just getting started."

You clench around him hard, body all tensed up as you accommodate the sudden change in thickness.

Sunghoon bends down again when he notices you're not easing up, trailing his way back up your body with pecks, giving you a few on your lips once he reaches your face. "Does it burn, baby?" he asks, the playful edge in his tone from earlier completely gone, smoothed down to the usual soft timbre you love so much. "Do you want me to take it out? I'll make you cum with two fingers, it's okay."

You shake your head. The stretch does burn, but you also want to prove to him that you can take him.

"You sure?" The murmur vibrates against your ear, the sound of his voice close enough to have you arching your back, pushing your stomach against his harder figure. If you had any sort of reservation about continuing, it's totally gone now. His insistence to make you comfortable always ignites pure want in you.

You nod, but your eyes are still screwed shut because of the burn, so it's not enough for Sunghoon to let go yet.

He slows down his movements, trying to help you out, but the whine you let out is enough to let him know you actually want what he's giving you and more. Still, he needs to hear it. "Use your big girl words, I know you can."

"Wanna keep going."

"Aaand?"

"Please, Hoon." You know you're far gone when you don't even care about how whiny you sound, you would get onto your knees and beg if he asked you to right then. You would want to forget about it right after, but still, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Thankfully, your boyfriend is very nice to you, so 'please and thank you's are enough to keep him satiated, at least for now.

"Good girl."

The praise goes straight to your cunt, further tightening the grip you have on his fingers. Sunghoon is flattered, but that's not what you need in that moment. So he reminds you.

"Take deep breaths, baby. It's only gonna hurt more if you don't ease up."

"Hoon, want more."

"I know baby, I know. But it'll feel better if you stop tensing up. Here, follow my breaths and let go." He kisses both of your shut eyelids. "Eyes on me, pretty. Okay?"

You obey him like it's second nature, but when you open your eyes and you're met with the downright angelic sight of your boyfriend, black strands of hair framing his face and his chain dangling slightly from his neck, you don't understand how you're supposed to calm down. He starts taking deep breaths, ones you try your best to mirror. And despite what you thought, the focus on your chest rising and falling and the warmth in Sunghoon's eyes does make the stretch a lot better. You were enjoying yourself before too, all things considered. Now it's different, you're struggling to keep your sounds in, and any other time you would be mortified by how much wetness is seeping out of your cunt, but Sunghoon's presence is relaxing in a way no one else's has ever been for you.

The more you explore each other's bodies, the more you start to think that maybe, just maybe, there is not a single thing you could do with Sunghoon that you would ever regret. The safety of a judgment free zone with someone who obviously cares deeply for you makes the experience so much better than you could have ever imagined. What other people did to you, no matter how pleasurable, just didn't measure up to what Sunghoon does with you. And you haven't even gone all the way in.

"Theeere we go, see how much better it feels when you're not being a brat?"

Sunghoon is careful with you, watching your every reaction and studying your expressions so he can learn exactly what makes crumble and what brings you closer to the edge, what makes you forget you have to breathe and when to pause so he can drag your pleasure out for as long as he wants, for as long as you can handle. His cock is rock hard, casually rutting against you from time to time. You have half a mind to reach into his boxers and help him out, but you're not sure you could do a good enough job at it, not when he's starting to bend the tips of his fingers to reach right where you need him.

You can feel yourself getting closer, so you grab his wrists—whether to stop him or push him further, you don't know yourself. What you do know, is that just fingers have never felt this good before, and if you had the choice to feel like this forever, you would take it.

The sudden grip doesn't deter Sunghoon, it encourages him instead. His movements are faster, deeper, but still just as precise. It's like he already knows the ins and outs of what brings you pleasure. "Gonna come all over my hand, baby? I know you're close."

You nod desperately, throat too raw and dry to produce sounds more complex than little whines—which Sunghoon finds adorable, he can't wait to find out what sounds you make when he's splitting you open on his cock. He coos, and that alone almost makes you cum. Almost, because what really does you in is his thumb moving to finally circle your clit, really touch it.

Your body tenses up again when your vision goes a searing white, but Sunghoon's other hand finds your thighs right away to prevent you from caging his hands between your legs. He worked hard to make you cum, so you're not gonna take the sight of your fluttering pussy away from him, not when he has rightfully earned it.

"You did so well," he says, his hand caressing the skin of your inner thigh as a reminder to relax your muscles, his thumb slowing down its movement on your clit as your walls flutter around his digits at longer intervals each time.

You eventually even out your breathing, your vision still a little fuzzy, but you feel lighter and content. Once Sunghoon is sure you're okay, he pulls you in for a sweet kiss, like he wasn't just rearranging your guts with his fingers alone moments ago.

"Perfect, you're so perfect," he whispers between kisses, landing a wet smack on your nose when you scrunch it in response. "You're always gorgeous but this—fuck, you're beautiful." He keeps kissing you, each kiss waking up a different butterfly in your stomach. You feel giddy like you haven't ever since you were a kid running through the meadow on a spring evening. You giggle when he reaches the valley of your breasts, and run your fingertips through his hair, his head resting on your chest.

"I love you," Sunghoon whispers, and for the first time in your life you know those words to be true, no hidden intention behind them, no cruel joke waiting for you at the end of the line. It feels right when they're coming out of Sunghoon's mouth.

"I know, I love you t—what are you doing." It's much more of an accusation rather than a question, because you see the little wicked glint in his eyes as he resumes kissing his way down your body—first down your navel, then between your thighs.

"Showing you how much I love you, duh." He spreads your legs as open as he can get them before you start protesting again. "Besides, I haven't gotten a taste yet."

You should stop him, because suddenly you're reminded of how he still hasn't come yet, and you would feel bad to neglect him. The look in his eyes though—needy, almost feral— keeps you pinned right in your spot. "What… about you?"

Sunghoon looks at you, genuinely confused. "What about me?"

"Yeah, I should be… helping you out." You glance down at him, and the wet patch on his boxers makes you clench around nothing. Had you not witnessed first hand how messy Sunghoon can get, you would assume he cummed already. Knowing that's only pre though, makes saliva flood into your mouth at the mere thought of your boyfriend's cock pumping load after load down your throat. Screw 'not hurting' you, you would be happy gagging and choking endlessly around him if it meant you got a tiny little taste.

"Oh baby, but you are helping me out. Just lay back and let me." Sunghoon pops two of his fingers in his mouth, tasting the residues of you high still lingering on his skin, rich and divine on his tongue. "So good, now let me get a real taste."

He trails his wet fingers up your body, relishing in the way you shiver under his touch when he brushes over your nipples. He grabs your face once he reaches it, and forces you to look at him. "Wanting to please me… aren’t you such a generous girl? So, so good for me. So eager to please, you’re so cute.” He doesn't miss how your lip twitches in response to his words, and how your hand slides between your thighs and how they close around it. “But, I'm still not done.”

“But—”

“Shhh,” he silences you right away. He parts your lips with his thumb, and your response to it is immediate, sucking on it without needing to be told what to do. You swirl your tongue around his finger eagerly, as if trying to show him what he is missing by not letting you take his cock out his pants. “See? So perfect for me. Such a pretty and obedient girl, am I right?”

You nod subconsciously, like he has you under a spell, ready to comply with anything he asks out of you. Maybe he does.

“I know that’s right.” Sunghoon takes the thumb out of your mouth, coating your lips with your own spit as he caresses them with it. “Then do what you’re told and lay back. I can fuck you another time. Now spread those legs for me mkay? Yeah, just like that. So much we can do in the meantime."

"I just don't get why he won't stick it in me."

"You have such a way with words."

You throw a fry at your best friend, only to get more irritated when he catches it midair with his mouth. Jungwon chews it loudly with his mouth open—because he knows it annoys you to death—then washes it down with his coconut milkshake that he won't let you get a sip of because 'using the same straw as me counts as cheating now that you're dating Sunghoon'.

"Okay but why? You're a man. What's the thought process behind this? Tell me."

"Girl, it's your boyfriend. You tell me."

"What if he doesn't fine me att—" A fry hits you right on your forehead, and it's like the impact activates your brain cells, because of course Sunghoon finds you attractive, that is not the problem.

"Now, let's be honest with ourselves please. None of that shit."

Your back hits the bed with a soft thud, arms spread out as you stare at the very familiar ceiling of your room. A sight you've been taking in quite often recently, while trying to come up with a plan to get Sunghoon to dick you down good.

Jungwon shoves a fist of fries in his mouth, barely chewing before speaking again. "I don't get why it's such a big deal."

You roll onto your side, facing the blonde little gremlin occupying the space next to you. "It's a big deal because— why is your ass on my pillow. Jungwon get—"

He silences you by feeding you a handful of fries from the container on his lap. "You were saying?"

You gulp them down quickly before replying, because you're civilized enough to do so, unlike someone else. "We've done it all, and I know he's scared of hurting me, but I can also tell he's holding back. I'm ready– I've been ready. It's just… whenever I think it's gonna happen he pulls back so suddenly, like he's restraining himself."

"Mhh… you've talked to him about this, right?" Jungwon looks at you in a way that feels entirely too judgmental, like skipping the communication part is something you do often enough for it to be a pattern. Something he needs to check off of a list before he gives you more advice.

He's not completely wrong. As in, at one point in your life you had made an habit out of assuming people's thoughts and intentions, but that is in the past. And those people are not your Park Sunghoon.

The polaroids messily scattered on the wall above your desk, like someone had dropped them and they'd defied gravity to stay there, glimmer as the sun starts its golden descent into the horizon. Old, more ruined around the edges ones you took right after Jungwon got you a polaroid camera with his very first salary from working at an ice cream shop over the summer. Pictures of sunsets and dumb words carved into sandy beaches, of thumbs digging into teenager Jungwon's dimples. Newer, glossier ones that you took when Sunghoon gifted you a new camera, after the one Jungwon got you finally broke down after years. You'd cried so hard that day, because it had felt like growing up.

The charger is still hidden under all the mess of receipts in your comforter's drawer, you still hope one day the pink sticker covered camera will turn on if you charge it long enough.

But some things are meant to stay in the past, and better ones are always hiding behind the corner, ready to come your way.

You aren't the young girl with the pink polaroid camera anymore, just like you're not the girl that is scared to voice her thoughts and troubles any longer.

"Of course I have."

"And?"

"Won, he just tells me I need more prep. I've had plenty of that, trust me. Like, he's spent the last month using this toy on—"

"Okay, okay I get it. I trust you, spare me the details."

"—Point is, I'm more than ready. I know it's gonna be uncomfortable and a bit painful at first, he's like… so huge it's—"

"I get it."

"—but that's a given with how big he is. I think it's just… him being nervous, really."

"Have you… tried to, uhm. Take charge? Maybe you calling the shots would make it easier for him to let loose." Jungwon looks down on his lap as he plays with the rings adorning his fingers. You wouldn't say he has ever been particularly shy per se, not when it comes to discussing your sexual life, even in heavy detail. He was the boy your mother made you take a bath with after a whole day of rolling around in dirt as a kid, because his wasn't around a lot of the time. The same boy who has seen you toothless and with horrible haircuts, who has seen all your embarrassing phases. Talking to Jungwon was much more akin to talking to yourself rather than venting to a diary, because he stored secrets in his heart that you would never be comfortable writing down on paper. Except he also calls you a dumbass when he needs to.

It's been a little different ever since you started dating Sunghoon freshly out of college, but you imagine it can't be helped since Jungwon is also very close to him.

You take a deep breath, shoulders slumping with the motion. Yeah, like that would ever work. "He doesn't give up dominance ever, really. I have tried a few times but…" you trail off, thoughts suddenly plagued with images of Sunghoon putting you back in your place instantly whenever you tried to take charge. You have already given it some thought, a lot of thought, actually. What wouldn't you do to have Sunghoon under you and at your mercy, so responsive to every touch, perhaps even tied down. Yeah, you're gonna have to bring it up more seriously to him, maybe then he would let you—

"Are you seriously fantasizing about dominating your boyfriend right in front of my cheddar fries?"

But you're gonna continue that thought another time.

"Let's see then…" Jungwon continues, evidently determined to find a solution to your problem. "Maybe act out? Would that work? Mhhh… I don't know, you're already very annoying day to day and he puts up with that…so."

Jungwon genuinely looks like he is putting so much thought into it, somehow it makes it more offensive.

"Yeah. And who grew up next to him? You. Exactly. You trained his patience, if anything," you retort, but Jungwon doesn't even give you the satisfaction of acknowledging it, because you both know that you do love to be a nuisance to your boyfriend whenever you get the chance.

"Wait." Jungwon perks up after a seconds of deep thought, making the plushies on your bed fall on the floor, but the situation is so dire that you don't scold him. Instead, you cast a hopeful glance in his direction. Please let his brain cells work for once in his life.

"Isn't Hoon like, terribly jealous every time someone brings up that time you and Jay dated in high school?"

The cogs in your brain turn, and if someone was to walk into the room at that moment they would be able to smell the fumes coming out of your and Jungwon's head.

Jungwon continues, though he doesn't need to, because you have caught what he is hinting to already. "You need him to snap? What better reason to if not some good ol' jealousy. Am I right?"

But of course he is, that little gremlin genius.

"And, it just happens that a few high school acquaintances are organizing a get together soon. You know people will bring up you and Jay, just drag Hoon along. It's fate."

"Have I ever told you that you're my bestest friend ever and that I owe you my life, Won?"

Your plan is not working out as expected.

Getting everyone on board took you and Jungwon some time, but they all eventually agreed to come along. Sunghoon himself was the one with the most reservations, since he moved away halfway through high school and he missed a good chunk of it. Most importantly, he missed how you and the others became friends in the first place, so he's always been a little bitter about it.

Calling it a plan was an overstatement. You wore a skimpy little outfit, black miniskirt and sheer thighs, and bet on someone bringing up how you and Jay used to date in front of Sunghoon. You hoped that would make him jealous enough to grab you and drag you home, maybe teach you a lesson that you would inevitably learn nothing from.

Instead, you get sulky Sunghoon with a beer in his hand, looking at you like a kicked puppy as you and Jay make conversation with your old acquaintances. It doesn't help that Jungwon refuses to pick up his phone so you two can come up with something quick to stir the night towards your desired outcome.

The call goes into voicemail again, and you sigh for the hundredth time that night as you end it and open up his chat to type in another text.

"No answer yet?" Jay asks, smoothing his pink dress shirt. He's always the classier looking guy in the room, no matter where he goes, but the hue of pink he chose for the night makes him stand out further in the sea of swarming bodies.

You shake your head. You're in a quieter corner, away from the thumping speakers, but your throat is sore after all the screaming you did over the deafening music. You thought you would get used to the volume when a few of the people at the reunion suggested moving to a club across the street to end the night with a bang, just like the old times, but it somehow got progressively worse instead.

From your side, Jake puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles to catch someone's attention, and when it doesn't work, Jay laughs at him.

"Sunghoon looks bored, I think we should call it a night," Jay says.

"Bored? He looks like he's gonna murder the next poor soul that steps too close to Y\N," Jake takes a swing of the drink he's holding, something that looks like aged whiskey. Very much unlike anything Jake would order. He hisses after the liquid burns his throat, even when diluted by the melted ice. "Jay, my man, your taste is so ass."

You give the interaction a half hearted laugh. Despite your original plan, you hate seeing Sunghoon so uncomfortable, especially when you know he only came along to make you happy. He insists he doesn't belong surrounded by people who pretend to remember who he is and keep bringing up stuff that happened in the past expecting a glint of recognition from him. You tell him there are multiple people with a similar experience to his even when they attended all years, you tell him he belongs anywhere as long as you and the other guys are there. He tells you those are the people that don't get invited to these sort of events.

"It's getting late anyway, maybe we should just go," you say, checking your notification bar for any sign of life from Jungwon. Still nothing.

"I'll go get Won." Jake throws back the remaining drink, scrunching his eyes and hissing at the bitter taste he still isn't accustomed to.

You take a second to scan your surroundings, and the swaying mass of sweaty bodies makes you nauseous. You used to love getting rocked back and forth by the music, uncaring for a single thing in the world if not the overwhelming love you felt for everyone and everything around you when alcohol buzzed through your system. When you were younger, it felt like ibuprofen for your soul. Now, it only amplifies the hurt in your chest when you think about how heavy this night must have been for your boyfriend.

Before you can make your way to him, someone grabs your attention.

"Jay! And you over there, it's been a while."

You instinctively turn towards the loud voice, finding a vaguely familiar face cockily grinning in your direction.

"She has a name." Jay takes a deep breath and gives you a look, his jaw tense, and that alone is enough to let you know right away the guy in front of you is nothing but trouble.

The guy continues as if you weren't even there to listen to the conversation. A ghost. "Doesn't matter, being your girlfriend is all she was known for back then." He takes a swing of his beer, taste as bitter as his voice. He's very obviously drunk out of his mind, words slurring and step unsteady, but his words annoy you anyway.

"Excuse m—" you try to interject, but he speaks right over you.

"You two back together?"

Jay looks like he's seconds away from punching him, but you simply shake your head no. "Oh! No, and I'm not single actually. My boyfriend's here—" you turn around to look for Sunghoon where you last saw him, and beam when you find him right as he walks up to you. His shoulders relax just the tiniest bit when he notices how relieved you look when you meet his gaze, the way you reserve that look to him only, the way you light up as soon as you spot him. "There he is! Perfect timing, baby."

Sunghoon slides a hand around your waist possessively, placing a soft kiss to your temple to really get the point across. "I was looking for you."

Truth is, he wasn't. He had his eyes on you the entire time, but you were playing with your rings and kept readjusting your clothes as the conversation was unfolding, and Jay looked uneasy too, so he figured nothing good was being said.

"Yeah, sorry! Just catching up with friends from back in the day. Y'know, reminiscing and stuff. Have you seen Won around?" You want to diffuse the situation before the idiot in front of you says anything he might regret. You want Hoon to be a little jealous, not for him to get you all kicked out of a party because someone decided to run their mouth a little too much. Your hand finds his exposed biceps, and it looks like he made the right choice by stepping in, because now that he is all up in your space, you're visibly more comfortable.

Sunghoon shakes his head. Last time he caught a sight of Jungwon in the crowded space was when the night had barely started, and he wore a cowboy hat as he shoved his tongue down some girl's throat. Good for him. "He's probably… catching up with acquaintances too."

You look like you are about to say something, but the nameless guy interrupts you before you get a single word out. It gives Sunghoon all the more reason to dislike him, even before he listens to what he has to says. "And you are? I don't recall seeing you around."

"Oh! Hoon just moved to a different school halfway through high school, but we're all friends," Jay replies instead, familiar with his best friend's feelings about his high school years.

"Then why is he here?"

Sunghoon's jaw clenches. You squeeze his arm as if to remind him you are next to him, and he melts instantly into your touch.

"I'm here because my girl and my friends are. Now if you'd be so kind, we are trying to have a nice night, and you're interfering with that." Sunghoon turns around, holding you against his chest as he starts to make his way to the bar to grab another beer.

"Yeah? You know your friend and your girl used to fuck? Maybe they still do."

Sunghoon was raised to be a patient man. One that counts to ten before reacting, a man who wouldn't even hurt a fly. So it must be the alcohol fueling his actions, because before he realizes what he is doing, he grabs the guy by his shirt, knuckles white as a ghost making the material wrinkle in his hold. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Sunghoon knows he is being provoked, but not even Jay trying to step between them can do anything to calm his anger, not when the poor bastard spits on his shirt, then says something that he really shouldn't have.

"I mean look at her." The man laughs, and it's bitter, filled with something more sinister than mere disgust. It's envy. "Are you surprised? She's dressed like a whore."

Sunghoon moves before you have the time to grab him, right fist colliding with so much force against the man's face, his lip breaks on contact. He wobbles a bit, hit taking him by surprise, but he just gathers the blood dripping inside his mouth and spits it by Sunghoon's feet.

"Hey! Hey." Jay grabs the guy's arm, roughly yanking him back as a crowd of people starts to notice the commotion, heading to take a look at what's happening, a few bodyguards included.

"So tough," the man starts a laughs interrupted by winching when his broken lip curls too much. "Take that out on your so called friend—"

Your voice drowns out the rest of the sentence. "Baby, please."

Sunghoon looks at you, and for a second you doubt he sees you. There's so much anger in his eyes, like he wants nothing more than to rip the little bitch in front of him to pieces. They're almost unfamiliar in a way that send shivers down your spine. You hate the fact that you can't tell if it's fear or lust. But the storm behind his gaze clears out for a second when he sees the alarm on your pretty face, just the one you need. "I wanna go home."

No matter the anger coursing through Sunghoon's bloodstream like venom, thick black poison inciting him to turn back and finish the job, his conscience always prioritizes your well being and what you want. So when you take his hand a make a beeline for the exit, he follows without a single complaint.

The car ride back home is uncomfortably silent.

Sunghoon doesn't hum the random tune playing on the radio like he usually does, he doesn't hold your thigh nor does he even spare you a glance, and you start worrying he might be mad at you.

The words said about you earlier sting, but they don't hold a candle next to Sunghoon's silence. You want to speak up, fill the void that is so uncharacteristically awkward, but the words die in your throat the second you try to push them out.

A ding! followed by your phone screen lighting up signals a new notification, and you swipe through your phone to find out if Jungwon has finally made his existence known.

It's a text from Jay. You notice how Sunghoon's eyes dart to your phone for a split second before going back to focusing on the road ahead, his jaw twitching under the street lights.

00:27 AM. Jongie <3: You guys made it home yet?

00:28 AM. you: not yet, you? did you find the others?

Last thing you heard as you dragged Sunghoon out of the club was Jay arguing with both the still nameless guy and two bodyguards who had been notified of commotion next to the bar. Your main goal was to get your boyfriend the hell out of there before he broke someone's face in, but now that you're away from the mess and the dizziness from the alcohol has started to die down, leaving your muscles and bones tired, you worry for your friends too.

00:29 AM. Jongie <3: Heading back now, Jake texted me he found Won.

00:29 AM. Jongie <3: Wasted, ofc. But apparently Jake's taking care of him now.

00:31 AM. you: don't know if i like the sound of that. will they ever let us back in there?

00:33 AM. Jongie <3: Yeah no chance, Won won't be happy when he finds out.

00:35 AM. you: how did him and jake even get home?

You lock your phone for good after Jay confirms Jake mumbled something about a really nice girl with a great rack driving them home, deciding you'll deal with their bullshit another day, when you're completely sober and not worried about what your unusually silent boyfriend might be thinking.

Just in time for Sunghoon to pull into his driveway. He doesn't remind you to take your bag with you as he always does, he doesn't wait for you to be out of the car before heading straight towards his front door. Truth be told, you're more shocked he didn't just drop you off at your own apartment because now you're really sure he must be upset with you.

It's dumb, really. What that guy said is anything but your fault. But your panicked mind makes up scenarios in which Sunghoon knows you wanted to make him jealous, wanted to get a reaction out of him for something as silly as getting him to properly fuck you. It convinces you he has every right to be upset.

His hand twitches in pain for a second while unlocking the door, dried blood—both his and not—staining his pristine knuckles, and it only aids in making you feel worse. You follow him through the entrance, and he waits for you to walk inside before locking the door for the night. It's now or never.

It takes all the courage you can find within yourself to speak, and still your voice comes out uneven, shaky, things your voice has never been when talking to Park Sunghoon. "I'm really, really sorry."

He turns back to you like you just said the most shocking sentence he's ever heard in his life, and he quickly grabs you by your hips when he notices just how scared you look. He quickly realizes you must've mistaken his silent attempt at calming down his anger at the situation for coldness towards you for some reason, and his heart breaks a little at the thought of having made you doubt yourself. When he answers, it's the softest you've ever heard him. "What for, pretty girl?"

Tears well in your eyes when you fail to find the words. You're sorry for so many things, you don't even know where to start. You're sorry for dragging him somewhere he didn't even wanna be in the first place, sorry for taking advantage of his kindness for your own benefit, you're sorry his knuckles are raw and bloodied just because he had to defend you. Above all, you're sorry for being so damn selfish.

Sunghoon carefully caresses your face with his clean hand, so none of that bastard's blood goes anywhere near your pretty features. His thumb swipes across your bottom lip like it's second nature, silently waiting for you to say what's on your mind. He searches your gaze, but you're too busy trying to not burst into tears right there in front of him, so he lowers his hand to your jaw and gently angles your head upwards.

His eyes are kind and warm, no hint of the searing coldness they held mere minutes ago. "None of what happened today is your fault," he speaks slowly, sincerely. He makes sure every single word leaving his lips is loud and clear, no room for misunderstanding or doubt. Sunghoon is smart, he knows you like no one ever has put in the effort to. "I'm sorry if I made you doubt yourself back there, I should've said something. I'm sorry." He sounds secure and confident in what he's saying, but the little unsteady breath and the sharp swallow that come right after betray him. His hand slightly trembles on your skin, and it makes your heart sink even more.

Something else to add to the list. You're also sorry for making Sunghoon feel guilty over your emotions when he never did anything wrong to begin with.

You still struggle to speak, especially when Sunghoon is looking into your eyes as one would towards the light shining through the water surface after holding their breath in far too long, like it means being able to breathe again. There's a devotion in him you've never seen, something actors on a stage cannot replicate, something you don't think words to describe it have been spoken out yet. Something purely unique to you and him.

When your words fail you, you show him your own devotion in a different way.

There's a medication kit Sunghoon got forever ago solely to patch up Jake and Won whenever their Jake and Won antics get them hurt (very often, comically often). Never in your life would you have imagined Sunghoon to be on the receiving end of the care, but here you are.

Sunghoon follows you wordlessly to the couch, giving no protest when you point to sit down while you take your spot next to him.

The saline stings as you carefully clean the wound, but Sunghoon makes no show of it. You finally have a reason to look at somethings else other than his eyes as you gather your thoughts, but he doesn't lose sight of the frown deepening on your face.

Sunghoon watches you intently through his now messy bangs as you hold his bigger hand in yours as if it were made out of the most precious, frail glass. His fingers are way thicker than yours are, but you brush against his knuckles with the cotton just as softly as he kisses your forehead seconds before you let yourself be taken by slumber in his arms every night. He sees all the expressions fluttering on your face, he gives you the time he knows you need. He knows there's something you need to get off your chest.

When the blood stains the cotton instead of his skin, you speak up, "Does it hurt?"

Sunghoon hums in disagreement, the sound dry in his throat. You press into the raw skin a little harder, earning a low hiss from him. "Don't lie to me. We don't lie to each other."

"We don't, but you're hiding something from me." He stops before continuing, his voice a mere whisper, "what's wrong?"

"You got hurt because of me."

"That's not—"

"Yes you did." And once the river of words tumbling out of your mouth starts, it can't be stopped any longer. "I know how you feel about high school and—"

"It's not that—"

"But it is. I don't care if it was five years ago or ten or fifteen, I know you feel a certain way about it and don't lie to me to spare my feelings because it makes me only feel worse. You feel a way about it and I still went out of my way to take advantage of it for such a stupid reason and now I feel like a fucking idiot. And it also got you hurt."

"Baby," Sunghoon says after a moment of quiet, only filled by your heavy breathing. "Hey."

You busy yourself by grabbing the gauze in the little med kit next to you, but you make the mistake of glancing at him for a second, and the little smile dancing on his lips keeps your eyes glued to the sight.

"It's only a few scratches. What's all this really about?"

"I just… fuck, I'm never living this down." You stretch the white bandage over Sunghoon's wound, wrapping it a few times to fully secure it. You take a deep breath, buying yourself more time by inspecting your boyfriend's fingers like they're the most interesting thing you've ever seen in your life. He playfully taps his index against your palm. It makes you smile despite your best efforts not to. "I just wanted to make you jealous."

You say it so quietly even Sunghoon, barely inches away from you, almost misses it. Almost, because you hear the teasing in his tone loud and clear. "Jealous?"

Cat's out of the bag anyway, so you might as well explain yourself. "Before you say anything, Won gave me the idea."

"Of course."

"I just, y'know. Best friend stuff," you say, as if it's the answer to everything.

"Best friend stuff… as in?" Sunghoon keeps prodding, and the faint smile you hear as he speaks without having to take a look at him simultaneously makes you want to grin and roll your eyes at him. You bite your inner cheek instead.

"As in… complaining about my boyfriend…"

"Oh, you must have so much to complain about."

"Well, for starters, my boyfriend doesn't want to fuck me—"

Sunghoon erupts in a fits of boyish giggles when he finally figures out what's going on, delighted to see how embarrassed you are by this whole ordeal. He grabs you by your hips and sits you right on top of his lap so suddenly you let out a little shriek of surprise. "Trust me, your boyfriend would love nothing more than to fuck you through the mattress."

Your hands rest on his shoulders, and you lower your chest against his, noses brushing each other. "Then what's stopping him?"

Sunghoon's warm breath tickles your lips when he whispers, "Maybe he thinks your pretty little pussy can't take it yet."

A warm feeling travels through your body, settling into your lower abdomen, and just when you think he's gonna kiss you, he pulls back and rests his back on the cushion behind him, sinking further into the soft couch and pulling you down with him.

"Hoon—"

"Mh-mh. You haven't told me what Won's idea was yet."

"You know it." You raise your hand to playfully hit his chest, but he's faster than you are and catches your wrist midway with his injured hand.

"I don't know a damn thing," Sunghoon says as he brings his lips to the back of your hand, letting them brush gently against your soft skin before placing a small peck. "Go on, enlighten me."

You pout, but Sunghoon's set on making you talk, and even though you're stubborn and embarrassed, you know he won't let it go until he's satisfied with your response.

And, the slowly growing hardness under your exposed panties, combined with the residuals of alcohol still buzzing through your system are making it hard for you to stand your ground. Not when Sunghoon looks as good as he does with his bangs messily covering his eyes, and fitted short sleeve highlighting his hard chest underneath the cotton. Unfortunately for you.

You move on his lap, adjusting your position so you can feel more of him through the thin material covering you. You crave the harsh coarseness of his jeans on you, for the heat seeping out of him to envelope you fully. You're on top of him, thighs straddling his, yet you feel the invisible push to be even closer. As close as you physically can be.

Sunghoon sees the hunger in your eyes, he has all this time. He too is barely hanging on by a thread, and the self restraint he's miraculously managed to keep until now is dwindling by the second. All the times you've begged for him, all the times he's fucked your pretty pussy open with different toys, bigger and thicker each time. All the times he's had to take cold showers after seeing the raw need for him to claim you fully reflected in your eyes, even after coaxing orgasm after of orgasm out of you. You're so insatiable, but he might be even worse. Once he gives in, he doesn't think he'll be able to let you go ever.

Sunghoon knows you've felt ready for a long time, and even if he thinks you could use more getting used to bigger sizes before he allows himself to finally sink into you, the temptation gnaws at him all the same.

He just needs a little confirmation.

"Tell me, what was this master plan of yours?" he speaks with his mouth pressed to your palm, softly running his nose down to your wrist, allowing himself to bask in the warmness of the scent you chose for the night.

"Won's, not mine."

"That you willingly agreed to."

"I just… wanted to make you jealous." You finally admit, avoiding Sunghoon's gaze at all costs.

"How so? Wearing this tiny little dress?" His voice is lower, more dangerous. He slides his free hand to grab a handful of your barely covered ass, the skirt having ridden up to your waist almost completely. "You know I like it when the attention's on you. They can look all they want, you're mine." The movement causes you to jerk up against his crotch, earning a low grunt from the man beneath you.

"Tell me, baby," Sunghoon rocks you slowly against his hard bulge, caging his bottom lip between his teeth as he takes in your needy and embarrassed form. "How did you plan to make me jealous? Why?"

Your hand slides down his chest and dips under the thin shirt before caressing just over the waistband of his underwear peeking out of the dark jeans. "I thought it would be a smart idea to drag you along to the get together, and I guess I hoped someone would bring me and Jay up. I know how you feel about it and I wanted to use it to my advantage, but I also didn't consider how you'd feel surrounded by strangers reminding you of all the time you and the guys lost. All the time we lost. You came to make me happy and I was being selfish the entire time. You even got hurt because of me—"

"Not because of you. He should be thankful you were there to stop me or I would've broken his ugly face in."

"Still. I'm so sorry. It was childish."

A beat passes without either of you saying anything, and you twitch uncomfortably in his lap.

"Why?"

Your lip trembles, and your heart sinks at the thought of having angered your angel of a boyfriend. Tears well up in your eyes before you even attempt to explain yourself, but Sunghoon gently angles your chin toward him until you're met with his gaze. It's intense, darker than you've ever seen in all your time knowing him. He searches your face for something, and you realize it's not anger casting shadows behind his eyes. It's pure, unfiltered lust.

"Why did you want me jealous?" His voice is raw, like it pains him to produce a single sound, like whatever you answer him with is the honey that will soothe it.

You twitch again, and this time you're not scared, but your insides twist all the same. He rest heavy and hot under you, and you don't know how you'll handle another rejection if that's what this is leading to.

"I wanted you to fuck me, really fuck me. I hoped it would be enough to push you to the breaking point, Sunghoon.“ You swallow hard, and the saliva in your mouth feels thicker than usual. Maybe it is, maybe you're just more aware of all the sensations within your body. "I need you to break."

It's all Sunghoon needs to hear.

He lurches forward to capture your lips with his, harsh and messy, like an animal that has finally broken out of the restraint keeping it chained. His hands roam all over your body, eager to explore every single inch as if it's the first time he ever does.

You reciprocate him with just as much hunger behind every movement, hands slipping from his body to his hair to pull his head back. You grind your hips against his, moves deliberately slow compared to the feverish kiss. "I need you. I don't wanna wait anymore."

Sunghoon moans into your mouth when you release his hair, and he doubles his efforts, sliding his fingers through the wide gaps of the fishnets covering your thighs, big palms fully working you on top of his bulge.

"You want it so bad, baby?" He says between open mouthed kisses, full lips raw and red from the fight with yours. "I'm gonna give it all to you."

Uncaring for the mess of knocked over stuff you two leave in your wake, from Sunghoon's keys loudly hitting the ground to your heels abandoned somewhere on the carpet, you make your way to his room without ever letting go of each other. All around you is just background noise and things you'll think of later, the only thing that seems to matter is to get in bed and get rid of all the pent up frustration clouding your minds.

The door shuts closed and soon your back hits the bed with a soft thud, Sunghoon's hands heavy on your hips and mouth hot on your neck as he carves a wet path on your sensitive skin, caging you between his hard chest and the mattress. He wraps your leg around his middle, and when your cores touch again, you both sigh in relief.

You've spent all this time on the cusp of finally getting something more, waiting—albeit not so patiently on your part—for the right moment, and now that you both know you're just moments away from it, seconds seem to stretch out into hours and even the slightest teasing feels unbearable.

That's what you think, at least. Because Sunghoon is nothing but a tease at heart, and he has very different plans in store for you.

You take advantage of the little moment of pause to undress yourself, but Sunghoon stops you as soon as he notices what you're trying to do.

"Keep it on," he murmurs along your neck, feeling your pulse quicken right under his full lips. He kisses along your collarbones, to your shoulder, exactly where the strap of your dress rests. His teeth graze the material, and he draws back slightly before letting it snap back into place, the slight sting making you jump just the tiniest bit in his hold. "You wanted to make me jealous in this? Then I'll fuck you in it." He mouths his way back up, until he reaches your ear, teeth gently biting right where he knows it makes shivers spread all over your body. "Next time you wear it, my cock is all you'll be able to think about."

You can't hide the way your body reacts to his words, thighs pressing together from the sheer excitement.

Sunghoon toys with the strings of your fishnets, and for a moment you think you should take them off, but he just rips a hole through them, allowing his hand to finally slide underneath them and grab your ass as harshly as he wants. "These were getting on my nerves."

"I can take them—"

Sunghoon silences you with a kiss, slower than the previous one, calculated and meticulous but every bit as passionate. His teeth sink into your bottom lip until you gasp against his mouth, his tongue gently licking away at your lip to soothe the sting. He pulls your core closer to his, unabashedly moaning into your mouth as he ruts his hips into yours.

The tights start to frustrate you the more he works himself against your panties. You want to be closer, you need to feel him push against you completely, and they're in the way. So once again, you try to rid yourself of them.

Sunghoon keeps you still. "These stay on until I tell you to take them off." His tone is commanding, but not abrasive, muffled by your skin. "Understood?"

You barely nod when suddenly he's bending you at his will like you're his to drag around as he pleases, and while usually you would've fought back just for the sake of it, you play nice this time, doing anything to not have him changes his mind and leave you hanging once again.

He sets you on your knees, facing the headboard of his king sized bed, a sturdy and thick thing, wood carved with elegant loops and twirls all around the edges. They gleam and cast shadows alike when Sunghoon reaches over you to turn on the bedside lamp.

The same hand steadies your hip as he lowers himself onto you, pressing his chest to your back and littering kisses from your temple to your neck. "Aren't you such a cute little thing?" he whispers into your ear, chucking when he feels you shudder under his weight. "So needy and desperate, making up plans just to have my cock in your tight pussy." He's so big, so warm. So strong. It makes your knees weak, and you would crumble on the soft mattress if not for his large hand keeping you still. "Should've just come to me right away, should've begged for my cock like the good girl I know you can be." His other hand starts to travel down your body, and your thighs instinctively spread open to accommodate him.

Pride blooms in Sunghoon's heart. You're so pliant for him, sweetly allowing him to touch you all over, your body responding so well to his slightest touch, to his softest word. The trust you have in him makes his cock harder in his pants, but he's always been a patient man. A man that enjoys taking his time playing with his meal before sinking his teeth into it.

That, and you still have a lesson to learn. "But you've been bad, so bad." He bites your earlobe as his fingers hook onto one of the little holes in your tights, right over your throbbing core, so needy and ready to be claimed by him. You hear a loud rip before you realize what's going on.

His fingers immediately find your panties, slick and stuck to your drooling lips, and he starts touching you over them like all the teasing he's subjected you to until then isn't enough to satisfy him. "You'll make it up to me, yeah? You'll make me proud and happy." He licks along the shell of your ear, and your thighs shake, spreading open once more to coax him into touching you better. "I'll only fuck you when I'm satisfied with how sorry you are."

"Hoon—"

"Don't worry, baby." His fingers dip under the fabric, finally really touching you for the first time that night. He slides two fingers between your lips to coat them in your juices as he keeps talking to you in a tone that almost seems belittling, the pout in his voice too heavy and pronounced for it to be honest. "I'll make it worth it. All the time we waited will be worth it. I just have to get you nice and ready, dripping for me."

You have half a mind to turn around and fight him, because you don't understand how you could physically get wetter even if you wanted to be patient and take it. "I'm already wet," you say, and it comes out a little harsher than you intend for it to.

"Look at you," Sunghoon mocks you, the bite in your response only making him chuckle lowly in your ear, the vibrations from the sound make wetness pool on his digits, much to his amusement. "Can't keep the brattiness in check even when you should feel sorry. How can I take your apologies seriously?"

You open your mouth to answer, but his fingers pinch your clit before you get a single word out, replaced by a shriek that sounds something right in between pleasure and pain.

"Less talking." Sunghoon doesn't stop or lessen his touch on your poor sensitive bundle of nerves. Instead, he rolls it between his fingers, coaxing loud moans out of you with every single movement. "More of this."

The bed creaks under Sunghoon's knees as he detaches from your already quivering form and gets up to grab something. You complain with a little whine at the sudden loss, but just a quick glance in his direction tells you to stay still and be patient.

"Where's your phone?" Sunghoon asks. It sounds a lot more like an order.

"My… huh? My phone?"

"Your phone. Where is it?"

You gawk at him for a second, still in the same position despite the dull ache in your knees slowly but surely setting in, your mouth agape as you try to rack your brain for an explanation as to why the fuck Sunghoon needs your phone since he doesn't seem to be planning on offering you one. "In my bag. On the couch, I think."

It's only a few seconds before your boyfriend returns with your phone in his hand, and throws it carelessly on the bed next to you. He returns to his previous position, the warmth radiating from his body soothing you even when you don't know what to expect next.

You'd be lying if you said you don't enjoy this stricter version of your ever so loving and doting boyfriend, thighs clenching at the thought of the danger lurking behind his sweet demeanor.

"Unlock your phone and open Jay's chat." Sunghoon's calm facade is completely gone, replaced by pure fire.

"What?"

"You heard me." His grip on your thighs tightens, possessive and angry. "You're gonna open Jay's chat and record while I fuck your pussy with my fingers, and you'll have him hear how good I make you feel."

You're breathless, adrenaline pumping through your system and ears ringing at the thought of doing something so obscene, with one of your best friends on the other end of it no less. "Hoon, Jay didn't have anything to do with this… we shouldn't—"

"I don't care." Sunghoon bites your neck, sharp canines poking you just enough to elicit a gasp out of you. "You'll do as I say and tell him you won't ever go back."

He sounds so possessive, so unlike any version of him you have experienced, and just this little taste has you obsessed. You love the soft spoken, big sweetheart he always is, and you love the sleeping beast hidden just beneath the surface too. You love the anticipation of what's to come, not knowing which side of Sunghoon you're gonna get.

Your hand trembles as you reach for the phone, his is sure and steady as it makes its descent down to your wet pussy again. Sunghoon takes his time, letting his fingers ghost on your thighs for a little before sliding the panties off of you. You hear him moan behind you, and you're glad you don't get to see what you suspect is him licking off the wetness off the fabric he just rid you of. That would be way too much for you in the moment, you think.

The Jongie <3 contact in your favorites section seems so silly now that you're mere seconds away from letting him hear how your boyfriend fucks you, so you take a few deep breaths in preparation. As if sensing your hesitation, Sunghoon quickly places a gentle kiss to your temple, and just like that, he's back to his caring self. "You said you're sorry, baby. You should show me, but you don't have to."

You press the voice message recording button moments later, heart thrumming loudly in your ears as you slide your finger up so it keeps recording hands free.

"Such a brave girl. So, so good for me." Sunghoon praises you, and it soothes some of the anxiety you feel, his tone thick and sweet as honey, you barely recognize it as the same one that was giving you harsh commands earlier.

The downright filthy sound of Sunghoon's digits spreading your pussy lips open has you cowering in embarrassment, but your boyfriend doesn't care. He needs Jay to hear how absolutely soaked you are. He wastes no time, pushing in three fingers inside you.

Your mouth is hung open in a silent moan, eyebrows knit together and eyes closed, taking a moment to adjust to the sudden sensation. It stings, even when you're so wet it's dripping down your thighs by now, but his fingers are so long and thick the initial stretch is always uncomfortable, despite all the training.

Sunghoon doesn't like that, so he gives you no time, no warning, and just starts pumping in and out of you, curling the tips just like he does when you're about to cum and need the tiniest push. He's unfair, so unfair, because how are you supposed to keep your sounds down like you planned to when he's finger fucking you like it's his life mission to have you come undone in record time?

You don't know if it's an ego thing, or he just wants to make your punishment that much harder. It must be both, because within seconds you're moaning and gasping out in pleasure for him and Jay so beautifully, really putting on a show for the both of them. But it's so hard to focus and remember what you're supposed to say, and the longer the voice message is, the more mortified you'll be in the morning.

For now, satisfying Sunghoon's thirst for punishment and placating the jealousy you yourself caused is your top priority. You'll think about the consequences another time.

"Aren't you gonna say hi? Where are your manners?" Sunghoon's mouth drops to your ear, the movement of his fingers inside of your cunt relentless and not giving you a single second to breathe properly. It doesn't matter to him, how much harder he's making for you to accomplish your task. He basks in it, even. He's proud of how just his fingers are enough to turn you dumb with pleasure.

"I—mh," you try your best to muffle the moans cascading from your lips, to no avail. Even if you managed to do so, the incredibly loud squelching noises in the background would betray you.

"Need a hand?" he laughs dryly, and you feel the faint presence of a fourth finger next to the other three, waiting to slide in and stretch you open further.

"Hoon!" you gasp in surprise.

"That's right, baby. That's who you belong to. Tell Jay."

"I—I belong to—Hoon! I can't!"

His fourth digit keeps prodding around to find a possible entrance, but you're already so full you think any more would actually break you. "How do you plan to let me fuck you, then?"

He's teasing you. You both know you can and you will. It's just a matter of taking it slowly. His finger is suddenly not trying to inch inside you anymore, despite how lost you both are in the moment, your comfort comes first always. It just means Sunghoon will find another way.

He speaks lowly against your ear, but it's enough for your phone to pick it up clearly, "Once I'll split you open on my cock like you've been begging for, nothing else will ever satisfy you. No one else will. Once I claim your little hole, it's mine. Jay's seen how big I am. He knows it too. Tell him whose pussy I'm about to split open."

"Mine." You gasp at a particularly harsh thrust.

"No. Mine." The sheer command in his voice makes you clench even more around his fingers, as if the fit isn't already tight enough. "Try again."

"Yours! It's yours."

"Good fucking girl." He moans against you, his hot breath rising goose bumps all over your skin. "Tell him you'll never go back to him," he adds after a moment, quieter.

The pace he is fingering you at slows down just enough so you can actually get a coherent sentence out, and you're silently grateful for this little show of mercifulness on Sunghoon's part. If not for this, the voice mail would probably end up being an hour long.

"I'll never—mh. Go back to you."

"Good. So good. Now tell him how happy you are with me, happier than you ever were with him. Tell him you love me," he rasps, high on the reassurance you're providing him. High on how obedient you are for him.

"Love Hoon so much, I love him. I love him so so much. Hoon, please." You're a mess, dripping down onto the bedsheets and clamping around his fingers so hard any more would probably cut Sunghoon's blood flow. The more you grip him, the wider you spread your thighs to accommodate him, like you're silently begging for him to be harsher. He has half a mind to fulfill your body's wordless plea.

"Look at you, spreading your pretty legs for me. You like it when I talk to you like this? Does it make your little pussy wetter?"

You're so tight, so wet, and Sunghoon is so impossibly hard. He could cum right there just thinking about how good you'll feel wrapped around him, walls convulsing and milking him for all he's worth with every orgasm he gives you. For every orgasm you bless him with.

A sight for sore eyes, one Jay will never see nor hear. Because as soon as he can sense you climbing up your high, getting so close, your walls fluttering against his curled up digits in preparation and juices plentifully seeping out of you, he grabs your phone and ends the recording himself.

Sunghoon moves, and suddenly you miss the weight of his chest pressing into your back, but the pace of his fingers inside you slows down again. You wail as you feel the climax you were so close to dissipate, and suddenly you feel like invisible ropes are keeping your front tied to the bed. Your back gives in under the pressure, arching in ways that should be uncomfortable but it's the only outlet other than the plentiful sounds being pushed out of you your body has to ground itself in the midst of all the pleasure.

The loneliness your heart feels whenever he deprives you of his body heat for as much as a few seconds has tiny broken sobs and whines lurch out of your throat, but like every single time, Sunghoon is there to soothe you. "I know, baby, I know. Just let me help you feel good. Yeah?"

Even when you're supposedly being punished, he can't help but go a little easy on you, his gorgeous angel. His spoiled baby. But it's okay, because you did such a good job, listened and obeyed to his every command.

Sunghoon's warm breath tickles the skin of your bottom, and his nose brushes up from your mid thigh to your ass, giving you a playful yet gentle bite on the plushy skin. Air gets stuck in your throat in anticipation, but like every single thing he does, he takes his time in savoring all the moments leading up to finally get your sweet taste to coat his tongue like he's craved for this entire time.

You're twitchy and so responsive in his hold, and Sunghoon is enamored with the sight of your fluttering walls trying their best to suck his thick digits in even more. Greedy little cunt for a spoiled little girl. A perfect match.

He watches intently how you react to every single thrust of his fingers inside you, how your knees shake and body flops forward when he bends the tips in just the right direction when you least expect it. He pushes in deeper, and deeper, until you're gushing on his palm, your essence dripping down his wrist and a few droplets down to his elbow too. He registers your every moan, every beg for more, imprints all your sounds in his memory like they're the dearest ones he's ever made.

Sunghoon remembers all your reactions from times you'd consider unimportant, from the little moan when you first bite into anything he's cooked—whether you really like it not—to the way your leg bounces when following the rhythm of a song you said you despised because they played it on the radio too often, to the way your eyebrow twitches when he mentions a name you haven't heard before.

When you catch him with that sweet look in his eyes, staring at you with a toothy grin and canines peeking out, it's because he's watching you and storing everything in his mind, no matter how mundane, no matter how dumb, no matter how silly. It's a no brainer he'd do this in times like these too, even when he's witnessed you come undone under his gaze plenty of times, he doesn't want to miss a single one.

It's not really about learning what brings you pleasure faster and what prolongs it, he's familiar with all of that already, Sunghoon just happens to really enjoy watching you, even if you think it's the most embarrassing thing in the world.

So he does exactly that, inspects you carefully as he keeps fucking you open with his fingers, taking guesses about how hard or deep he should make his pumps, pride blooming in his chest—and cock throbbing in his pants—when you react exactly like he expects. While usually he watches you with a lovesick smile, the grin on his face and fiery glint behind his eyes are different now, hungrier and needier, but every bit as obsessed.

Because that's exactly what Sunghoon is, deeply and unashamedly obsessed with you.

He builds your orgasm up again, brick by brick, flick of his wrist by flick of his wrist, until you're quivering and shaking and begging him to not take it away this time.

"Please," you moan, hand clenching onto the bedsheets beside you so hard you'll be shocked if by the end there won't be a hole ripped in them. "I'm so close."

Sunghoon notices how you hold onto your orgasm, waiting for his approval. It makes his hips twitch forward involuntary, eager to please and eager to give you anything you want. "I got you baby, let go. Let me hear the pretty sounds you make when you cum for me."

It's all it takes for the coil in your stomach to completely snap, and the second your warm walls flutter around Sunghoon's fingers for the first time, you feel a sense of emptiness that lasts only a moment, before you're full again. It's not as thick, shorter but so much wetter, and through the thick fog clouding your mind as your body is overtaken by uncontrollable shivers spreading from your core to every extremity of your body, you realize he just replaced his fingers with his tongue.

Another lightning strike shoots right through you, head to feet, as Sunghoon keeps fucking you through your orgasm with his tongue. You're still fluttering around it and releasing all of your juices right into his awaiting mouth when the ringing in your ears slowly fades, replaced by the downright obscene sounds of Sunghoon slurping up all he can get out of you. It's messy and nasty, the lower half of his face completely coated in your essence but he doesn't care. He wants more.

He moans into your pussy like he's the one being pleasured, and once that single second of bliss between fully coming down from an orgasm and overstimulation setting in goes by, he pulls you in closer when you start moving too much. You're still too sensitive, but if Sunghoon thinks you're greedy, you have to realize he's even worse. Feeling the dull throbbing of your walls as you come around his tongue one time just isn't enough. If it were up to him, he'd have you wet his mouth again and again until you physically can't withstand any more. Until you're barely coherent and slipping into a peaceful sleep, completely tired out.

Sunghoon grabs a handful of your ass with his still dripping hand as he licks a stripe down from your hole into your lips, spreading them open with his tongue to find your clit, throbbing and raw from your previous orgasm. He rolls it between his lips, toys with it with his tongue, uncaring for the way your body pushes away from his mouth. After all the begging you did, you have no business running from it, if you ask him.

"Stay still," he growls into you, both of his hands tied together on your lower back as he fully pushes you down on the mattress with his strength, leaving you nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. He nuzzles his face into you, enveloping all he can get with his warm mouth, sighing and groaning contently with every bit of wetness you gush right on his tongue.

He explores every inch of you, every nook and cranny he can get into, cleaning you up with each lick and wetting you even more with every other. "So fucking good," he moans into you, dragging you back against him when you think you can't physically be closer, when the tip of his nose pushes into your hole and when the only way he has to breathe is through his mouth which is full of you. He pants and gasps against your cunt so much you fear he might suffocate himself just to not come up for air a single time.

Your own face is pushed against the bed, mouth biting down on the cotton fabric beneath you to ground yourself in the immense cloud of pleasure Sunghoon is giving you. He's so lost in your taste he doesn't even remind you to not muffle your sounds, the only thing in his mind is to have you come undone on his mouth once more.

Sunghoon knows he's close to his goal when your little pained whines start turning into longer, more drawn out moans, when you stop running away from his tongue and instead start thrusting yourself back into his hold, back into his mouth. All your senses are ablaze, nerve endings lit and confused but so pleased at the same time. You yourself don't know when the it stopped hurting and became that dull, impending feeling of almost there to something more that both maddens you and keeps you hooked, but you roll your hips anyway in search of just the little nudge in the right direction your body violently craves.

Like always, Sunghoon knows exactly what you need.

"Go on, baby. Touch your little clit for me." His voice is full and rich of that low gravel you barely get to hear, but that has tingles run down your body when you do. "Help me make you cum." Sunghoon lets his tongue run back up from your clit to your slit again, inching closer to your throbbing hole as you let a hand sneak under your body to your pussy, immediately finding your sensitive bundle of nerves.

You're so drenched by now you don't need to wet your hand before drawing circles all over it, dragging it in all the directions you know have your toes curl. Sunghoon likes it messy though, so he gathers a glob of spit and loudly releases it on your cunt, the position making it dribble down right where your hand is working to bring you closer to your peak.

The onslaught of wetness pooling down only adds to the already embarrassingly loud noises coming from your cunt, and you're so wet, your own fingers slip a few times. It doesn't help that your arm shakes under you even when pinned down by your entire body weight when Sunghoon shoves his entire tongue down your hole again, using both of his hands on your lower back to move you so you're fucking his muscle as if it were a toy. His nose drags on your perineum with every movement of your bottom half against his face, and under any other circumstance you'd be mortified, but Sunghoon has a way of soothing you in the most embarrassing situations without really having to do anything but be there with you, like nothing matters in the grand scheme of things when his body is heating yours.

You speed your movements up to match the pace he sets, and with every thrust of his tongue combined with every flick of your wrist, you feel the band in your lower tummy stretch and warm up, until your sight turns searing white and warmth envelops your body from your core to all your limbs in rhythmic waves, first every other second, and then gradually slowing down.

You release on Sunghoon's tongue, and he wastes no time, gulping down all he can manage to, moaning into your heat like he's tasting the most divine nectar. You can't see it as you're busy catching your breath and slowing down your heartbeat as the rush of pleasure dissipates into a calmer buzzing felt all over your body, but Sunghoon's eyebrows crease in the middle, his eyes closed as he commits the taste of your cum to his memory, right beside all the indecent bits of you he treasures in his mind.

Sunghoon pulls his tongue out of you, already missing the way you flutter against it when you come undone, and leaves a trail of pecks all over your bottom, first on the plush of your ass still kept up by his strong hold despite you having completely given up on keeping yourself upright long ago, then all over your thighs, switching from one to the other as he runs a reassuring hand all over your skin, wordlessly soothing you. His palms are big and thick on your thighs as he moves to wrap his hands to the front, steadying you one last time to capture your clit in a gentle suckle, just enough to have your body convulse in overstimulation, but too tired and spent to fight back.

He pulls off of you with a pop after hollowing his cheeks around it one last time. "Did so good for me, baby. You're so perfect."

Without Sunghoon's hands keeping you up, you slump on the bed, completely this time, groaning when the burn in your lower body fully sets in now that you can move it again. It's dull and persistent, and especially fiery right where Sunghoon's hands stayed locked for most of it.

"You okay, pretty? Was I too rough?" He sounds concerned when you take longer than usual to regain your strength, his hands immediately roaming all over your body to massage any sore spot. His touch is light like a breeze but welcome like the sun on a spring day, warming up all the knots in your muscles. The dangerous edge seems to have completely evaporated, only leaving your sweet boyfriend behind. In the moment, it's exactly what you need.

You give him a vague sound of approval in response, but you know it's not enough for him when he gently maneuvers your body around to face him, holding you so carefully one would think him scared of damaging you.

The warm light shining from the night stand casts shadows on his face, but the slight concern etched on his features is bright as day. It's an intimate moment, and you'd giggle because of the sheer difference in his behavior if you had the energy to do so. Instead, you reach for his hand. The same hand that held a bruising grip on you just moments before, the same hand that hit the man who disrespected you.

Sunghoon returns you touch right away, locking your fingers with his as if second nature. You place a featherlight kiss on them, allowing your lips to linger on his salty skin as you speak. "I'm great. Perfect even." It comes out a little raspy, like you haven't fully caught your breath yet, but it's a start.

"Yeah. You are."

"And you? You doing okay?"

Sunghoon gifts you one of his cannot-possibly-contain-it smiles, the ones where he looks down for a split second as his eyes crinkle and somehow smile wider than his lips do. Your favorite kind of Sunghoon Smiles you'd say in the moment, though if you were to compile a list they would all be in the number one spot.

"Perfect, even."

"Hey, that's my line—" you start, but Sunghoon finishes your sentence for you.

"—Don't steal it."

You hum, the taste of skin still on your lips as you bask in the moment for a little, neither of you daring to break the peaceful quiet that wraps like a fuzzy blanket around you. Sunghoon flinches just the tiniest bit when your fingers graze the bandaged scratches, making you ease up your hold on his hand. He immediately squeezes yours to tell you it's okay.

"You know," you say after you let the silence linger for a few more seconds, only your heartbeats and shallow breaths filling the air in the dimly lit room. "You look really hot when you're mad."

Fits of giggles pour in the almost nonexistent space between you—first Sunghoon's, yours following suit.

"I must look super hot when I'm jealous then," he says with that teasing edge in his tone you're all too familiar with. He dips down to catch your lips in a slow kiss, suckling on your bottom lip gently, the corners of his mouth still raised. He hasn't stopped smiling once.

"Absolutely," you say before Sunghoon pecks you again, and then keeps doing it as you try to continue. "And when you're happy—" another peck. "And when you're bored." Another peck. "And when you're—sorry if I say this but you look like a cute kicked puppy—sad.

"So you're gonna keep finding ways to make me jealous, I assume."

It's not meant to be a jab, you know he's being playful. But it stings you just in the right way, and suddenly you're in the passenger seat of Sunghoon's black Bentley again, worrying about having hurt his feelings past redemption.

Like all things you, Sunghoon catches it right away.

"Hey there, it's okay. I'm not upset, baby." Sunghoon's hands are secure around your hips, his thumb running soothing circles on your skin while your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer because it's simply never enough.

"You should be. You're too nice."

Sunghoon presses his lips on your fluttering lashes. "You being a little brat is nothing new. I think I know how to handle you pretty well, don't I?" His breath, minty but also vaguely bitter from the beer still, warms your cheekbone. Sunghoon's proximity to you is intoxicating in ways no amount of alcohol could ever be, and you hate beer, but god, what wouldn't you do to taste it off of his lips for the rest of your life.

Whoever is up there must be gracious because your prayers are answered the very next second, with Sunghoon ghosting his lips on yours, looking at you with tenfold the intensity and fire from earlier, like someone drenched the space behind his eyes with gasoline and lit it up without you noticing it. The switch is so sudden, and by now you should be used to this, but you don't think you ever will. Not when your boyfriend is looking at you like he might devour you whole any moment, and you'd let him. You'd love to let him.

"Act out all you want," Sunghoon says, voice dripping in possessiveness, right against your awaiting mouth. You want to swallow every last bit of it. "Go out there in short little skirts barely covering your ass. Make up all the silly plans you want, even ones where Jay's involved. Let everyone get a good look at you because that's all they'll ever fucking get." His hand reaches for your inner thigh, then folds it to give himself better access. His bulge is heavy and hard against your bare core, the weight of it enough to have you shiver and mewl, but when Sunghoon starts grinding his hips into yours, the noises spill out of you like you have no control over them. "At the end of the night, after you've had your fun, you'll always come back to me. In my bed, soaking my pants with your little pussy because you only get wet like this for me."

It's embarrassing how fast you feel like you could come again, but Sunghoon's hard thickness slides so perfectly over your folds even through the fabric, and the harshness of his jeans catches your clit every so often in such a delicious way. His pants are soaked through in your essence, both of you moaning and panting in each other's mouths so messily you don't even know if it could be classifies as a kiss or a mere exchange of spit.

"You're mine," Sunghoon rasps, like his life depends on it. He fumbles with his pants, depriving you of the mouth watering friction. You make a few noises of complaints, but his teeth are quick to sink into your bottom lip to silence them. "A spoiled little brat. But mine."

The heaviness of him finds your dripping core again, this time so much warmer, only his underwear separating your most sensitive parts from touching. It's the closest you've ever been to feeling his cock on you, and it's overwhelming. Electricity shocks run through your body when he starts moving his pelvis against you, completely coating the already damp material with the mix of your arousal and release. He's not unaffected—his own precum shows up right where the little slit in his tip is, the fabric of the boxers a darker shade of gray there.

"Mine to love, mine to discipline, mine to train. Mine." You don't know wether the hoarseness coming from his throat is due to the anything but proper activity you two are partaking in or simply the raw need for you to really let his words sink in, but the effect it has on you is clear. The proof is right where your cores meet.

You tentatively roll your hips into his, movements emboldening when you earn a few low grunts from him.

"This pussy is gonna be mine too now. Mine to worship and please. Mine to fuck open like she never has been before. I'm gonna ruin you for everyone else. You want that, right?"

You nod frantically, your hips running after Sunghoon's in a relentless chase, like they have a mind of their own.

"Say it. Say you want me to ruin your little hole."

"Ruin it—Hoon, please."

His hips falter when he hears just how desperate you sound, his eyebrows scrunched up in the middle and you can tell he's biting down on his tongue to ground himself. It only encourages you.

You reach for his boxers, wrapping your hand around the outline of his bulge and trying to contain your facial expressions at the reminder of just how ridiculously large he is. You squeeze it with your palm, his eyelids fluttering closed and his chest heaving from your touch alone. You try not to think too much about how outrageously wet the fabric is, all thanks to you. "Please, I need to feel you inside," you beg, arms pushing your tits—now basically spilling out of your dress—together and looking up at him with the most innocent doe eyed expression you can muster up.

Sunghoon's jaw leaps, and you feel like under a microscope as he watches you. "Little minx you are." He reaches for the first drawer of his night stand, rummaging though it quickly before pulling a tiny bottle out of it. It's lube.

"I don't need—"

Sunghoon silences you by spitting right on your pussy, your complaint turning into a whimper at the contact. "You do, baby. You need all the help you can get." Complaining more will get you nowhere but tucked into bed, still needy, horny and with a wet pussy, so you decide to play your cards cleverly and let him do his thing.

You paw at his boxers, fingers dipping into the waistband and trying to tug them down to get to the prize hidden behind. You spread your legs open even more as Sunghoon rips a larger hole into your tights, the veins running down his arms slightly bulging from the effort.

The sudden coldness of the lube dripping down on your puffy folds surprises you enough to rip a little yelp out of you, and Sunghoon's wide palms find their rightful place on your thighs, pushing them against your hips and lower stomach. He takes a good look at your cunt, spreading you open to his liking and leaving no inch of your skin hidden from his sight. "Such a pretty pussy." Your joints still ache and burn from all the exertion they already endured, but Sunghoon's words are like a soothing balm for your body and mind. "Prettiest cunt in the whole fucking world, all wet and ready for me to fuck."

You finally manage to free his cock fully, despite his filthy words sending waves of weakness through your body, and immediately wrap your palm around the middle, mouth watering when your thumb doesn't reach your other fingers. Not only is it way longer than average, it's also thick beyond comprehension, perfectly curved to hit all the right spots in you and so fucking veiny you can feel more slick pour out of you in anticipation. You quite literally cannot stop gawking at it, trying to move your hand up to his tip, just as thick if not thicker than the base, and you gulp as you watch beads of semi transparent liquid pour out of it.

"What is it, baby?" Sunghoon asks, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he tries to not buck his hips into your hand. "We can stop if you want."

"No!" Your grip around him tightens, earning a gasp and a shallow thrust from him. Your thumb swipes over the head to spread his need all over, making it easier for you to slowly jerk him off. "Please," you add, quieter, afraid he might take the opportunity away from you.

The sight of you laying down so prettily with your much smaller hand enveloping his length, has all the blood in Sunghoon's body rush straight to his groin. He could cum at any moment, just from having you right in front of him like this, but he's set on making it worth the wait.

"You're so fucking hot like this." His hand finds your cunt again, fingers spreading your folds open so he can take a good look at the sensitive bud he loves so much, finding it so swollen he wishes to just bend down and suck on it again.

Once the lube fully coats his digits, he brings them down to your hole again, prodding it just enough to make sure it's slick with the cold essence. He squirts more of it right onto his cock while you keep fisting him as best as you can, spreading the lube all over it until all that can be heard in the room is the loud squelching noises and both of your heavy pants and low groans. His fingers keep rubbing your folds, coaxing more of your own arousal out of you, the feeling so distracting the pace you set on his cock falters a bit. To compensate, you add your other hand too, milking him with both at the same time.

"Fuck yeah, just like that," Sunghoon moans, and he looks divine above you with his lip caught between his teeth, gaze flickering from where his hips have started fucking into your fists, to where his fingers are playing with your pussy, like he cannot decide which view is best.

His cock throbs in your hands every time your hold tightens or your movements get faster, and you're stuck watching every reaction. His chest heaves, sometimes he looks like he forgets to breathe and then he has to make up for it. His cheeks are flushed, and when you notice how his bangs are sticking to his forehead because of the sweat accumulating on his hairline, you suspect he might be close.

"Gonna come?" you ask, battling your lashes at him, hoping he'll do just that from your hands alone. That's enough to wake him from his daze, and you almost regret asking when he breaks free from your hold and stops playing with your pussy.

The disappointment is short lived, because without wasting any time, Sunghoon brings your legs close together around his cock and sets both of your feet on one of his shoulders. He fucks your thighs just like that, with slow thrusts, making sure to slide his cock between your folds and let you feel every single vein running down his length. "You'd love that wouldn't you? Me coming all over your pussy. You're so fucking messy."

The shirt still covering his torso leaves close to nothing to the imagination now, clinging to every ridge of his abs and chest because of the sweat, and you're basically drooling at the sight. The feeling of Sunghoon's cock between your thighs and on your cunt is too much for you already, clit throbbing with need every time his tip catches on it, balls pushing against your hole every now and then, but you make the mistake of looking down when his thrusts get faster, and the view you're met with has you absolutely obsessed.

The head of Sunghoon's cock peeks out from your thighs every time his hips move forward, red and leaking so fucking much on your lower tummy it looks like he's cumming all over you already. But then it just keeps going, reaching close to your belly button, and when his head rests right on it, your mouth goes slack. It's one thing to see how big he is normally, but to have it compared directly against you, it makes the room spin in circles and your body feel even weaker. You need him inside you now.

"You like the view, baby? That's how deep I'm gonna be inside you, how deep I'll be fucking you," Sunghoon laughs, a little manically, and you hate how much it turns you on, like you need to be any more than you already are. "You'll feel me riiight here." He stops his thrusts to tap his cock on your stomach, the sounds of the tiny slaps reverberating through the room. "All up in your guts."

You gasp out his name when his hips go back to working his cock between your thighs, in an attempt to get his attention, but he already knows what you want.

"I know, baby. I know. Just a little more I promise." His gaze flicks up to meet yours, watching you intently for any sign of discomfort, any indication that you might want to stop. He knows it's unlikely—Hell, he's sure you were about to beg him to fuck you for the nth time that night just now—but he needs you to be absolutely sure. The weight on his chest, the slightest hint of uneasiness looming over him despite all the excitement fades in the background when all he finds on your face is pure lust, unfiltered need for him.

The pace slows down a little, and Sunghoon keeps eye contact with you as he speaks with his full lips brushing the skin of your ankle, giving you a few kisses there to ease up any anxiety you might feel. "Are you sure, pretty? We can wait a bit more. We don't have to—"

"Hoon. For the love of God just put it in or i might actually die within the next two minutes."

An amused wheeze tickles your skin, followed by a gentle nibble right where his lips kissed you. He rests your legs back down while he still kneels on the bed "Alright, alright."

He's spent all this time preparing you, telling you to take it slow for your own well being, but as you watch the way his eyes hesitantly shift focus around your body, you think maybe he's not the one ready yet. "Hoon?" you catch his attention, voice meek but it's like music to his ears, always.

Sunghoon hums in acknowledgement, but he looks deep in thought. His thumb follows the ridge of your jaw to your chin, then swipes over it a few times as if to encourage you to continue.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Had a change of heart? Weren't you just about to die a few seconds ago?"

"I'm asking you."

He exhales, then bends down to place a soft kiss right on your parted lips. "Of course I'm sure. I'm just…" He trails off, but you already know what he's thinking.

"You won't hurt me," you say, keeping eye contact to really get the point across. "Besides, even if you did. I'd enjoy it a bit."

The corner of his lips lift up, and you know you've finally cracked through him. "I suppose you would."

His elbow rests by your head, while his other hand grabs his cock and gives it a few pumps in preparation—not that he needs it, Sunghoon doesn't think he's ever been this goddamn hard in his entire life. "Give me a few taps anywhere if you want me to stop, if it helps you can bite me when it hurts." He positions himself, hand still guiding his tip to your leaking entrance, but doesn't push in just yet. "Where should I cum?"

You're about to lose your mind, hips slowly rolling against his tip to try to coax it inside of you and he's still talking instead of doing something about it. "Huh?"

"Where do you want my cum baby? You won't be able to talk when I'm fucking you."

The sheer seriousness in his tone has shivers run down your spine, but you don't dwell on it too long. "Inside. Anywhere you want just please—Oh my god."

The sting of his tip slowly pushing in stops you from finishing your sentence. It's a mild discomfort for now, but the feeling of it stretching you open is better than any of the toys you and Sunghoon experimented with could've ever provided. He's just getting started, but your mouth is already ajar, and more wetness seeps out of you when your boyfriend rewards you with the most beautiful moan you've ever heard.

"God, it's like she's begging me to slam all the way in." His thumb swipes over your clit in circular motions to help you ease up so the first few inches aren't too harsh on your poor drooling pussy, and even though the tip isn't even the entire way in, the sight of his cock slowly disappearing inside your heat quickly shoots up to his favorite spot. "Deep breaths baby, remember what I taught you—No, don't tense up, it's okay. You've got this."

Your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head, pleasure and discomfort blending into one slowly as he waits for you to adjust. How are you supposed to not clench around him when he's encouraging you like this? It's beyond you.

Your hand shoots to grab Sunghoon's muscular biceps when he starts moving again, and he stills right away, waiting with bated breath for the taps to come.

They don't.

"Is it all in yet?" you ask, because truly, you feel so fucking full already, fuller than you have ever been. But the amused look on Sunghoon's face tells you exactly what you need to know.

"I mean." He moves a little more, and the burning—even if eased up a bit by all the juices and lube coating both of you—resumes. "A little more than the tip is."

"The tip?"

"The tip." Sunghoon thrusts out gently before pushing in again, both of you moaning at the same time. "I can fuck you with just that, it's enough to make you come harder than you ever have." He doesn't wait for you to tell him what to do, opting to give you shallow thrusts to test the waters, his thumb never parting from your clit.

The way you shudder and the little sweet sounds you make because of his tip alone has his stomach knot in all kinds of ways and his cock leap and throb so much it fucking hurts. Sunghoon would want nothing more than to shove it in and claim you fully, mold your pussy around his girth so perfectly no one else would ever be able to give you a cock half as good as his—like he would let that happen in the first place.

You're writhing under him, legs kicking a little when he feels the slide in and out slowly get more comfortable and slippier. That doesn't mean you're not clenching around him so hard he could cum at any given moment, but for your own pleasure—and his, really. He wants to shoot his load as deep as he possibly can—he tries to hold off to the best of his capabilities.

But fuck if it's not the hardest thing he's ever tried to do.

He almost breaks when your own hand reaches down for the one working on your pussy, smaller palm attempting to cover the back of his and to coax it into moving faster. There's a bit of drool on the corner of your lips, and you look so wrecked already, Sunghoon hates how a shiver runs down his spine at the mere thought of how you'll look like when he's balls deep inside you. "Hoon—fuck. I want more."

He coos at you, pretending he's not a wreck himself, pretending the thread thin sliver of sanity he has left isn't the only thing preventing him to fold your legs all the way up to your chest and fuck you into oblivion, but the arm next to your head shakes with restraint, and the knuckles on his fist are ghostly white by now, even if you're too blissed out to pay attention. His voice is shaky, uneven, but his words are careful and patient, even when you'd rather them not be. "We gotta get your pretty parts used to it first baby, come like this just once, it's only the last stretch."

Your whines turn into moans when his movements on your clit fasten and his tip nudges inside you a little deeper, just enough to momentarily satisfy your craving for more.

"Aren't you a greedy little thing," Sunghoon rasps, holding back his own impending orgasm with all his strength, beads of sweat now rolling down his neck deliciously, and you kinda wish you could bend forward and lick them off of him. "Asking for more, and more, and more after the stunt you pulled today. My pretty baby," his thumb pushes more forcefully on your bud, making it hurt so good for a second as you adjust to the pressure, then giving you harsher drags, meant to have you come undone and quivering under him in no time. "So desperate for cock you just had to go ahead and try to make me jealous. You like it when I'm jealous?"

You gasp, nodding frantically as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach tighten more and more, an embarrassing amount of slick pouring out of you and running downwards.

"You're so fucking lucky this is the first time we do this," his voice is rough, an octave lower than usual. "Or I would've bent you over and fucked you so silly the second we got home without stretching your pretty pussy open. But I'm so kind. Thank me for it."

You clench hard around him at his words, toes bending because you don't know what else to do with all the pleasure coursing through you, and he gives a gorgeous deep groan in response. "I'm gonna—"

"Then thank me for it."

You come around him hard, harder than you ever have, thank you's pouring out of your lips like a broken prayer, entire body shaking head to toe from the intense orgasm. The buzz in your ears persists for a while as you try to come down from it, and you can see but it feels like you can't, like your brain isn't registering any of the images your eyes capture. Bright, static, dark spots, so many things at once. It feels like you blacked out for a second even if you didn't, all your senses dulled to make space for all the other sensations your climax provides.

When you slowly start to regain power over them, you're met with the sight of Sunghoon panting like a dog, eyes closed and fist wrapped around his cock, the head poking out and redder than you've ever seen it, looking like he just ran a fucking marathon. Somehow, he managed not to cum. He was so close though, so close he had to pull out the second your walls started to involuntary flutter around him or he would've been done for.

The tight black shirt is still clinging to him like a second skin, and the first coherent thought of yours after the fog around brain clears is to get him out of it as soon as you can. You tug at the hem, still panting and blood buzzing from the release. "Off."

Sunghoon doesn't answer you with words, but he rips the shirt off his torso, throwing it somewhere on the floor behind him. His hands are shaky as they travel from your waist to your hips, then reaching your thighs, spreading you open further in front of him and allowing him to take a look at the big mess you—both of you, really—made. Sunghoon's cock is rock hard, tip oozing enough precum to make all the prep you've endured so far pointless. (Not really, you know better than that.)

Sunghoon goes back to nudging his tip on your hole, just holding it there without pushing in quite yet, casting a last questioning glance your way because he needs the reassurance that you're okay with this one last time before he fully commits.

When you nod, he slowly eases himself back into you with a low moan accompanying the motion, this time his gaze holding yours. The face you make as his tip stretches you open makes it a hundred times harder for him to keep his chill, wanting nothing more than to say fuck it and pound you stupid like you've been begging him to do ever since things first got handsy between you two.

The burn isn't nearly as bad as it was the first time, leaving space for so much more pleasure to course right through you, and you can't help the relieved sigh that leaves you when his tip is fully back inside you again, like it's a need for you to be filled by it. And Sunghoon sees that. He sees the fire in your eyes, the greediness slowly pooling behind those pupils he loves so much, how your hips look for his even if taking any more in hurts.

His hips jerk forward more than he intends them to, but he can't help it, not when you're looking at him like he's the prey. More of your wetness coats him, and both of you loudly moan into the night.

"You feel so fucking good, baby," Sunghoon whines, actual tears filling his waterline because he can't believe how much you're gripping him, pussy fluttering around his girth with every little bit he pushes forward, welcoming him like no one has ever done. "Tightest little pussy ever."

The hold on your thighs is bruising, but it helps you stay at least a little grounded so you wouldn't have it any other way. Whenever you think you're too full and cannot possibly take anymore, you feel a little more of Sunghoon's cock slide in you, so you get on your elbows with what little strength you have left and take a look for yourself. He's barely halfway in, and the burning sensation is starting to set in again. It hurts, but it hurts so good, you need more and you need less at the same time.

"Yeah, that's right, angel. Watch how your greedy needy cunt swallows me." Sunghoon's eyebrows are creased, sweat now not only dripping from his scalp, but little droplets constellating his broad chest, following the paths preset by his sculpted physique, all the way down to his vline. A mouthwatering sight.

"So full," you sigh, eyes never leaving from where you're connected, clit throbbing the more he fucks his cock into you, begging for a lick of attention.

"You'll be so much fuller. Can you behave and handle that for me, mhh?"

You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding along to his words and sneaking down your hand to play with your clit when you come to the conclusion that Sunghoon's hands are way too busy gripping your plushy skin like his sanity depends on it.

"Smart girl," he praises.

The wetter you become, the easier and more pleasurable the slide is. Sunghoon watches you for any sign of unbearable discomfort, slowing down when you bite your tongue or picking his speed back up when you bless him with those precious needy whines of yours. "You're doing so well, my gorgeous girl. So fucking amazing, making me feel so good already, God, you're perfect."

His words of encouragement play a big part in easing the pain for you, soothing you enough to make it easier for you to not tense up when his cock nudges a particularly sensitive spot inside of you. Your hand flies to your lower belly and you swear you feel him right there, so much deeper than you've ever had anyone—or anything—be.

"There we go," Sunghoon puffs out like he's been holding himself back from breathing this entire time, his pelvis grinding against your folds deliberately. And you finally realize he's all the way in for the first time ever. "Squeezin' me so tight, are you scared I'll run away?" He pulls back a bit before fully thrusting inside again, the curve of his cock aiding in making him hit all the right spots you could've never reached yourself. "No fucking chance. Not after I've got a taste of this. Gonna fuck your pretty pussy open every fucking night, until I've trained her to take me in without any complaints."

He sets a slow pace, not wanting to overwhelm you just yet, then adds, in a softer tone, "Does it hurt too bad, baby?"

If he keeps the back and forth up for much longer, you're gonna end up getting whiplash. But between groans and higher pitches sounds, you manage to answer him. "Any more and you would've popped me like a balloon."

Sunghoon giggles as he bends down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, hands finally loosening his grip on your legs and traveling all over your body. "You begged, and begged and—"

"I'm not complaining, am I?" you ask, breaking the kiss and resting your forehead on his, the saliva string connecting you two shining under the warm light of the lamp. "Harder."

Sunghoon complies instantly, speeding up his movements and giving you actual thrusts instead of the messy mix of grinding and nudges he'd taken a liking to. His hot, wet mouth finds your neck, too greedy and selfish, in desperate need of hearing the beautiful sounds you make instead of swallowing them down. His tongue skates over your pulse point, a shiver traveling down your entire body when he gives you the lightest nibble right there before licking it up again in apology.

"I can still taste you in my mouth." His breath tickles the wet skin of your neck, your front arching into his when goosebumps appear all over your exposed arms. "Always want to—mh, taste it. You'll let me eat your pretty pussy again after you gush on my cock?"

Even if you want to reply, you really can't, not when the pace he's drilling into you at is knocking the air out of your lungs, and the bolder his movements get, the more you understand why he asked where he should cum before even staring. You want to look at him, take in every expression on his beautiful face, but the pleasure is too much to handle and the only thing that seems to help is closing your eyes and letting them roll back into your skull.

Your lips are raw from all the biting, and you're so incredibly thankful when Sunghoon's hand swats yours away from your clit to replace it, allowing you to sink your fingers into his broad shoulders, clawing at them with every languid thrust he gives you. He feels so perfect, filling you up to the brim and then some more, stretching you out so fucking good you suspect you won't ever be able to scratch the itch if not with his cock.

"I'm in love with this fucking pussy, baby," he moans, loud and unapologetic, making his way with open mouthed kisses down your neck, then following the line of your clavicle, only to dip down between the valley of your breasts. Your tits have spilled out of the tiny little dress due to bouncing around with every precise thrust Sunghoon gave you, and your nipples are perky and hard, begging for his attention right in his face.

"And your tits, fuck. So pretty, I'm gonna eat you right up." He licks a stripe on one of your hardened buds before enveloping it fully between his lips and sucking on it lightly, sighing contently into it when you push your tits on his face further, loud whines spilling out of you.

The very familiar band in your tummy starts to tighten again the more he works on your nipples and clit at the same time, thrusts never once faltering. All of your senses are heightened to such a degree you don't even know what to do with yourself anymore if not lay under Sunghoon and let him absolutely ravage you, not a single thought but 'feels so good' crossing your mind. But it's fast, too fast, and you want it to last for longer, want Sunghoon to keep fucking you for hours until the only word you remember is his name.

You try to push his hand away from your clit, only earning a reprimanding yet gentle bite on your nipple, a warning. "I c-can't."

"Can't what, pretty girl?" He rolls your nipple between his lips, lapping away the tingling sensation the nibble left on it that has you jolt in his hold. "Use your words."

You throw your head back in frustration, feeling the impending climax approach you once again, the nth that night. "Don't want it to end," you gasp, using up all the strength left in you form a coherent sentence.

Sunghoon coos at you. Fucking coos at you only to deepen the strokes of his cock inside you, angling his hips to reach even deeper. "Cum for me baby, I'll just keep fucking you."

Your thighs shake as they wrap around his waist to pull him closer, his hips switching to grinding his cock into you instead of thrusting it, the fat tip poking the most delicious sensitive parts of your heat. You gasp and wheeze, claw and scratch and draw blood from his skin but it never hinders or stops his strokes. You clench around him time and time again, wrapping around his cock so nicely Sunghoon can feel his own orgasm build up in the pit of his stomach.

You come around him with a silent scream, every single part of your body twitching under him as he keeps fucking into you, now chasing his own high. He still takes a moment to watch you and how beautiful you look at the highest of your peak, eyes glazed over and mouth hung open, sweaty skin glistening so beautifully he wishes to be a painter and capture it forever. It's a sight he's never gonna grow accustomed to, and it has his stomach twist in knots. "That's it baby, so fucking gorgeous, keep cumming for me like that, milking my cock so well."

Even in the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body looks for his, hips rolling into his as if to silently ask for him to cum inside you, now that your voice has completely failed you.

"Just a bit more. We're almost there, my perfect little baby, so good for me," Sunghoon is babbling too by now, so damn enamored with the sight of you trying to keep your twitching under control even though you're still cumming around him and teetering on overstimulation so he can fully savor his own high. "The most perfect angel girl ever. I love you so fucking much."

Your head is light and Sunghoon's words reach you as if in slow motion, muffled by your own blood buzzing in your ears. You're completely drenched, and the bedding underneath you is too, but neither of you can bring yourselves to care. The slide is not painful anymore, and everything feels so warm and slippery, you never want it to end.

The image of Sunghoon still grinding and fucking his cock into you, his pace now reduced to a desperate mess and nowhere near as precise as it was, clears up slowly as your ears stop ringing, but your pleasure never does. You don't know if you're still cumming or if Sunghoon fucking you just feels this good you can't tell the difference, but you feel like you're on cloud nine and lighter than you've ever been.

Sunghoon's torso is completely glistening, and you feel some of that slick coat your skin too when he bends your legs into you, folding you against the bed and hitting even deeper inside you.

You're a moaning mess as he pistons his dick inside your heat, dragging perfectly against your gummy walls. You look down and see a bulge poke your lower tummy with each deep stroke of his. The sight alone is enough to have you on the edge again, but it feels different this time, like you cannot possibly contain what's about to happen.

"Hoon—"

"Shh," he silences you, hair a sweaty mess and dripping all over your figure. The squelching sounds of his skin slapping against yours, connected by white strips of slick on both of your thighs get even louder when his pace gets faster, the hand that played with your clit suddenly pushing down on the bulging of your stomach. "Give it all to me, soak my fucking dick—fuck, I'm gonna cum baby, gonna cum so deep inside you."

You cannot stop the dam from breaking, juices shooting out of you so suddenly you're taken aback too, coating his entire lower abdomen in it. Your cunt throbs around him so hard, almost like it's trying to push his cock out of you. You can't think of anything, cannot fathom anything that's not Sunghoon, and his perfect cock, and how good you feel, going completely limp on the bed.

He moans louder than you at the sight of your wetness drenching the bed and his cock. "Fuck, take it all baby. I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm—"

His hips stutter one final time against you, burying his cock deep inside you and shooting his seed in multiple thick spurts as deep as he possibly can, filling you up perfectly. He dips down to catch your mouth in a messy kiss, panting into your mouth even as you two are still both trying to catch your breath from your orgasms, but your lips on his are all the oxygen he needs.

"I love you," you whisper into the kiss, your words finally having found the way out of your throat again.

Sunghoon hums, his body weakened and tired but still hovering above you instead of slumping on you. "I love you more." He gives you a sweet peck like he wasn't just putting you through the matters moments ago. "You were perfect, baby. Did so amazing." He lets his body go beside you on the bed, dragging you between his arms and grimacing when the wet mess you made on the covers touches the back of his body. "A rag won't be enough."

You smile, weak but content. "And who's fault is that?"

Sunghoon pretends to think about it, but from the look on his face you can tell the answer is ready on his tongue. "I think it might be yours for being too hot I couldn't help myself."

You swat your hand on his chest, but there's no force behind the gesture.

"Aaand for making me jealous."

A groan leaves your lips, your arms coming up to cover your face. "How am i gonna ever face Jay again after this."

Sunghoon's chest vibrates against your skin. "You'll think about that after I clean you up."

You make a low noise of complaint, rolling over to push yourself on top of your boyfriend's body, hands resting on his toned chest as you reach for his huge cock and slowly sink yourself onto it, head thrown back in pleasure even if it's not fully hard anymore. Sunghoon's breath catches in his throat as he watches you lower yourself against him again, your head finding refuge on his shoulder. "Later."

You stay like that for a while, breaths slowly synchronizing in the peaceful quiet, Sunghoon's cock comfortably nested in your heat while his fingers lazily ghost over the entire expanse of your back. You could fall asleep at any moment, but you raise your head one more time to look at your boyfriend, his half lidded eyes meeting yours instantly. "You did not strike me as the type of guy to edge himself that much."

"Just go to sleep."

BONUS

You roll over to tentatively search Sunghoon's bedside table, ignoring the sound of the lube bottle hitting the floor, until the cold screen of your phone meets your spread hand.

Sunghoon is snoring lightly behind you, his nose nuzzled against your nape, and you hope to not wake him up as you unlock your phone. You recoil when the light that feels like a million suns momentarily blinds you, but even that is not enough to discourage you from completing the life-or-death task ahead of you.

You open up messages—promptly ignoring Jay's "never do this shit again. you two are nasty."— and click on Jungwon's chat, not wasting time to watch the several unloaded video files sitting in it (you can easily recognize the blonde silhouette of Jake's hair in half of them, so you're free to assume it's nothing of particular importance anyway) to type a quick text.

05:34 AM. You: mission accomplished ;p (cancel the hiking thing we planned for next week unless you carry me yourself. your girl can't walk)

Shockingly enough, he replies within the minute.

05:35 AM. twin: you shameless being (a whole week is crazy)

05:37 AM. twin: whatever, but I'm dragging you out for brunch so you figure out your means of transportation yourself. we need to catch up

05:38 AM. You: crazy night for both of us i assume

05:38 AM. twin: oh you have no idea

#mortal works #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #enha smut #enha x reader #sunghoon fanfic

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avikadostoast · 1 day ago

Text

MEMOIR OF A PHOENIX - LHS ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Synopsis. In a war riddled world you find an injured soldier lying outside your house, he happens to be from the enemies side but despite that you care for him and that care would suddenly blossom into love. Heeseung and you navigate life in a world of war and forge a new life based on compassion, love and rebirth LIKE THAT OF A PHOENIX.

Pairing. Soldier!Heeseung x fem!reader

Genre/Warnings. angst, minor fluff, forbidden love, major character death, forced proximity, smut (mdni), p in v, unprotected sex, war au, reads like a memoir, a lot of crying, violence, a brief scene of Y/N being assaulted, a lot of blood and wounds, themes of war and peace, aftermath of a war, green flag Heeseung

Word Count. 8.3k

a/n. Please note that this should not be taken be seen as a source of information about the war, this is fiction. Although this has been inspired by many instances of history, books and movies, I myself have not been a victim of a war. Also there is an immense amount of Phoenix symbolism in this story and that is cause I have been obsessed with the song Phoenix by Stray kids. This is by far one of my favourite stories I have written and I hope you guys enjoy this. Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. divider by @saradika-graphics

The nights weren't peaceful like they used to be. Ever since the war started between Asteria and Riverfield, everyday was spent living in fear.

You were hiding behind the door, your hand sealed over your mouth. Even a single sound could alert the enemies of your presence. You had heard torture stories from your late father, even a single careless mistake could cost one their life.

Everyday you would pray about the well being of your brother Jisung, currently fighting in the trenches. When he first received his uniform he was filled with happiness, feeling proud he was given such a great responsibility of protecting his country. But every letter, more regretful than before, talking about how he wished he stayed with you and took care of the farm and animals instead of potentially throwing away his life for the greedy leaders of the nation.

The thumping of boots stopped after a while, you took your hand off your mouth placing your ear near the door just to double check, the soldiers were truly gone.

You got up rubbing your sweaty palms against your skirt, you got out to take the clothes from the hanger outside, which had been waiting outside for hours.

Placing the clothes inside the basket, you heard the leaves rustling and the groans of a man. Your body immediately froze, “Are they still here?” you thought to yourself. Bending down you tip-toed where the noise was coming from.

An exhausted soldier lying on the ground was what you saw, the man was still breathing-his shotgun laid beside him as he held his hand on his chest.

Your hand pushed the leaves covering his body, when you got down to his thigh, you saw a large red patch of blood forming on his trousers.

You couldn't let this man suffer right in front of your eyes, you didn't see his face or his uniform as it was too dark. “What if he was from the enemy's side?” You thought to yourself.

You shrugged that thought off, irrespective of where he came from he was still a human who should not have his life taken away from him. You dragged his heavy body inside the house.

You laid him on the ground, pulling his trousers down revealing the gushing wound. It was deep, like a knife was shoved deep into the area. Looking at the wound would be enough to give you goosebumps.

You ran to get your emergency med kit, it wasn't much but you wished it would be enough to treat the wound. You pulled honey, antiseptics and boiling water to clean the wound.

You got down on your knees, with all your stuff beside you, taking your tweezers and removing the debris from the wound, it was ugly and brutal. Rubbing all the antiseptics and honey on the wound to completely clean it and finally finished it by wrapping up his thigh with the cloth.

Your eyes took in every part of his body, his coat had the dreadful symbol of the Riverfield army. You pushed his hair away from his eyes, his skin was youthful- he looked the same age as you. His hair was wet from the sweat accumulating on his forehead.

You sighed getting up, it was time for you to head off to sleep. The moment your back hit the bed a sudden comfort engulfed you, it had been a long painful day, days would continue to be like that until the war stopped.

Heeseung woke up to the humming of a female figure, he slowly opened his eyes to see a proper ceiling, with a fan attached to it. “Strange,” he thought to himself, he was clearly not in the camp, the last thing he remembered was an enemy soldier slashing his thigh with a bayonet slash. He was immediately shot but Heeseung was left behind, deemed a liability to be taken back to the base with them.

He turned his head to see the back side of a woman standing in front of the counter as if she was preparing something. You turned around with a bowl in your hand.

“W-where am I?” His voice dry, like he hadn't sipped water in days, he tried getting up but there was a sharp sting in his thigh, like someone ripped his thigh open and ripped his muscles off.

“In my house, I found you lying on the ground,” you replied simply, pulling him up and resting his back on the wall making him sit up, you mixed the bowl of Dakjuk in your hand and placed a spoonful in front of his mouth.

His eyes looked at the soup then at you, “is this laced with poison?” his voice was cold.

“If I wanted to kill you I would've left you outside and let you suffer.” You simply replied.

“You should've” he murmured, your hands dropping “I should've died last night, now I am just an idiot fool with nothing and a crippling leg.”

You placed the bowl in front of him, “feed yourself then” you got up and walked away, opening the door and barging out of the house.

You went to the cows and got started on putting food for them.

You saw the enemies to be less than human- maybe even monsters. They killed your men in the trenches just to get a mere piece of the land. You wouldn't mind if he died- or did you?

Heeseung was inside thinking about the time before the war- when he was happily spending time with his family. His time in the military made him hopeless that he wouldn't get to see his family again. He thought of the fact maybe getting saved is a sign of hope maybe he would get to reunite with his family again.

You pushed open the door with a jug of milk in your hand. You were just walking across the house, “Thank you” the soldier spoke up.

You looked over to him shaking your head in disbelief, coming closer to him getting on his eye level you asked, “what did you say?”

“I said thank you” his voice was genuine.

“Why did you change your mind?” You asked.

“Because if I was dead right now there wouldn't be a possible chance of going back to my family.” He firmly replied.

Something switched in Y/N, it was the first time she thought of an enemy as a human with genuine feelings rather than a monster.

You didn't know what to say, you stayed silent for a while letting all your thoughts process, leaving the house was risky enough, leaving the country was just dangerous.

“It's hard but I believe in you” Your voice laced with sympathy, Heeseung gave you a soft smile at what you said.

You got up and picked up the empty bowl, happy that he was eating your cooking.

“Wait-” he loudly said, holding your hand.

“Why are you helping me?” He asked, suspicions clouding his head.

You sighed, you went to the drawer, opened it pulling out a letter and a photograph.

“This is my brother Jisung,” you held up the photo showing a picture of a kid-not much younger than him. "He is currently in the army on the other side." you told him.

You pulled open the letter and showed him what Jisung wrote to you a week ago,

“Dear Y/N

I hope you and the animals are safe back at home. I wouldn't say I am in the best condition, I saw my best friend get his leg amputated right before my eyes yesterday.

I miss you and can't wait to get back home soon, the fight has been stretched on for months, I want to go back home and get married to Irene and live in a farmhouse.

I just hope to make it alive by the time I am home. I love you sister

-Jisung”

you closed the letter after it ended, “I just hope someone would be there to take care of him on the other side when he is injured like the way I am doing with you.” Your eyes glossy like you were about to cry.

“Don't worry he will return home safe.” He replied.

“What's your name?” You looked up at him.

“Heeseung…Lee Heeseung, you?” He told.

“Y/N… just y/n” your teeth glinting as you flash him a smile.

The day went by quickly, engaging in chores, cooking up dinner for two people now along with your animals.” The day would go by like a breeze, it was at night when terror occurred.

After the dinner you prepared his bath, filling the bathtub with warm water. His arm around your shoulder as you walked him to the ledge of the bathtub.

You unbuttoned his uniform, his body was filled with scars like blades were dragged across his skin, his muscle felt tense as you touched it.

“When you're done shout my name, I will be getting your clothes ready.” You told him, picking up his clothes and closing the door till a small gap was left.

You brushed and folded his clothes, a few pictures falling out of his pocket. The pictures contained a family of four, and one where Heeseung was with another guy surrounded by cars.

“Y/N,” Heeseung yelled loudly from the bathroom, you placed the pictures carefully and made your way to the bathroom.

“Here are some of Jisung's old clothes” you placed the pile of clothes on the side and helped him get up wrapping a towel around his body.

you helped him get on the couch to change the cloth wrapping his wound.

“So you gonna tell me how you got stabbed in the thigh” you wrapped a piece of the cloth around his thigh.

“A person from the opposition caught me off guard and stabbed me there” he simply replied.

“Why did you leave your troops though” your hands still focused on his wound.

“I didn't leave” he replied, “they thought of me as a liability now more so they thought it would be better to leave me here than waste the energy in taking me back to the camp.” His voice trembled as he told everything.

Your hands stopped working as you looked up at him, it made you gain empathy for him more. He was injured and rather than taking him back they left him discarded like he wasn't human.

“I am sorry that happened” you told him,

“Don't be,” a small smile formed on his face that trembled from agony, “you're the first person who has taken care of me in a while.” His voice was firm.

You let sleep take over him, not leaving the couch till you were hearing snores coming from. Finally he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Slowly removing yourself from the couch you made your way to the bathroom.

You did your night routine before heading off to your bed. Your mind laced with thoughts about Heeseung, “Was he really the good guy you thought of him to be?” It was a question that continuously popped in your head. From what you knew about him till now he seemed sensitive, even though he was in the army it didn't seem like he would be hiding something.

The next morning you woke up before sunset, you made your way to the kitchen and prepared bone broth.

Heeseung woke up, sitting up straight he pushed his body up in an effort to stand up but miserably failed as only two steps in he fell flat on his butt.

The loud thump made you turn your head. “Oh Heeseung!” You panicked. You rushed towards him as you placed his arm around your neck and took him to the dining table.

“You shouldn't be wondering like that.” You scolded him, thankfully he wasn't hurt.

“I will go to town today and hopefully get you some crutches!” You said enthusiastically, “then you would be able to walk carefully.”

You placed the prepared bone broth in front of him, he began taking sips little by little. “I found these in the pockets of your coat” you placed the pictures in front of him. “Thank you” his hand tenderly touched the pictures like they were his prized possessions.

“Any story behind them?” You asked curiously,

“This is my family at my graduation.” He told for the photo with him and 4 other people,

“What about this one?” You pointed at the one with him and another man surrounded by cars.

“That’s me and my brother Sunghoon inside my dad’s car dealership” he spoke, his fingers grazing the picture, “I graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering, I was going to work with cars under my dad.” He told you.

“So you know everything about cars?” You asked him. He nodded

“So why be here in the army? You seem like you have an entire life ahead of you” you asked. “It is mandatory to be in the army right now” he simply said like it was the norm.

In Asteria the military wasn’t mandatory, too many young people would give away their life, there were barely any other opportunities. It seemed better to die in the war as a patriot than of hunger. While Riverfield was filled with elites, rich and a better economy where you could do anything.

“When the war is over, I will be able to go back home and work under my dad again!” His eyes shining from the thought, “The automobile industry was barely affected by the war, in fact there will be an increased demand.”

Something switched in you, he was another guy with big dreams and aspirations that were destroyed by the war-just like Jisung. You didn’t want the war to ruin another man’s dream.

“You know, I wanna help you get home” you suddenly spoke up, Heeseung’s eyes widened at your statement not believing you were willing to help.

“Thank you” his eyes held more emotion than his words, overwhelmed someone was showing him this much empathy.

You covered your face with a cloth. You were covered head to toe in order to not provoke any unwanted attention.

The village was not like it used to be, the once bright sunny skies were accompanied with damp grey cloudy ones, the once grassy lands were now muddy and the houses were crumbling down.

The town suffered the same fate too, the same crumbling houses and shops with the same muddy patches.

“That will be 9000 won.” The lady said as she gave you the crutches.

You looked in your purse and counted all your notes to see you only had 10,000 won.

You handed the 9000 won to her, leaving you with only 1000 won and the crutches.

You sighed, regretting the purchase. What if Heeseung started walking by tomorrow itself. You knew for a fact selling milk and the government subsidy wouldn’t be enough now that two people were living in the house.

“Singers needed for the military hall, pay 20,000 won per hour” a flyer stuck on the wall read. You picked up the flyer as you read thoroughly through it. It was a risky job, the hall was near the enemy’s base, the hours were at night and it said the job required being attractive but the pay was good.

You read the location of the flyer and made your way towards the location.

“You want to apply for the singer position?” The guy asked behind the table.

“Yes,” you replied.

“Take off your mask and coat,” he ushered you with the cigar in his hand.

You knew this part would be coming, you were still trembling as your fingers removed your mask and unbuttoned your coat revealing your corset underneath.

The guy’s eyes wandered around your body and face, taking in every inch of your body, he wasn’t just observing you to see if you were fit for the job, his eyes had lust in them.

“You’re hired” he said simply, you were taken aback by the response, “you won’t check my singing?” You asked.

“These bastards aren’t here to listen to your singing,” he replied smugly, “you start today, come here at 8:30PM sharp no tardiness is tolerated.” He handed you an ID with your name on it.

You went home right after that, upon arriving you saw Heeseung with a drawing pad in his hand.

“What are you drawing?” You asked him, startling him with your presence.

“Uhh just designing some cars,” he showed you the drawing pad, the pages were brown and crinkled like water and coffee was spilled over it. The drawing was a picture of a car surrounded by various machines with some writing beside it.

“Do you draw often?” You asked, “you could say that,” he flipped through the pages, “my university life was filled with drawing and science.” He told you.

“How was your university life?” He asked, turning his head towards you.

“Uhh I didn’t go.” Your voice is laced with embarrassment. Heeseung’s eyes widened, “you going to go then?” He asked curiously, you slowly shook your head.

“I was expected to be the lady of the house after my mom died,” you told him, your hands fiddling with the ends of your skirt, “I always wondered how it would be like, to go to art school, get a degree and be independent.” Your lips forming a smile thinking about a life like that.

You got up, you picked up a black sketchbook,

“These are all my drawings, you showed him each and every page of your sketchbook, one thing he saw very often- a Phoenix, multiple drawings of Phoenixes whether them being in a landscape or just a simple doodle.

“You must really like phoenixes” he spoke flipping through the pages.

“Yeah!” You replied, “I believe when I die I will be reincarnated into one.”

“They aren't real though,” he giggled, you gave him a small pout “I still like them, maybe reincarnated as a Phoenix in a book” you whined.

“Haha why though?” He asked

“They just inspire me, how they fly, light up the night and raise their wings, they are just so fierce” you told him.

He smiled at how passionate you were about a fictional animal, “you do remind me of a Phoenix” he sarcastically said.

“I know right they are so me” you jumped from excitement. He laughed at your childishness, he couldn't believe someone could be this mature but have such a child-like innocence.

“The soup is in the fridge and I have kept the clothes inside the bathroom, you can sleep on my bed if you want.” Your hands fidgeted with the doorknob as you were getting ready to leave. You were more comfortable leaving Heeseung alone now that he got his crutches.

“Where are you going though?” He asked you, you were quiet for a while, your mind searching for a good reason, “just going to help my friends.” You replied, before he could say anything you were out the door.

You reached the hall at sharp 8:30PM, you were given a small dress and were asked to put on some light makeup, “next time come with makeup on.” The guy said tossing the makeup bag to you.

You got up on the stage, the lights shined on you as you started singing the song. The audience was filled with drunk soldiers from the Riverfield army. Their eyes showed lust rather than praise, guys hooting, whistling and passing sexual comments.

It was dreadful for the first five minutes but later on you imagined it wasn’t these men you were singing to-you were singing to Heeseung, thinking that just made everything much more bearable.

The stage was filled with notes that the army men threw at you, your show ended after 2 hours and you bent down to pick all the notes.

“Here’s your 40,000 won” the guy handed you over the money, “you are expected 2 days in a week at the same time.” He informed you.

You nodded your head and went away, putting the money in your pocket along with the tips. A guy chauffeured you to the village since it wasn’t safe for you to walk home alone.

“Y/N you're back!” Heeseung chirped from your bedroom as he saw the front door opening. He noticed you looked different, your bare face covered with red shades from makeup.

“I will just change and come.” You told Heeseung and closed the doors to the bathroom. Heeseung knew you didn't visit your friend and that you were lying but he didn't feel he was in the position to accuse you.

You came in 15 minutes, your face bare and your clothes replaced with comfortable cotton pajamas. You opened the covers to lay beside Heeseung, his side of the bed having the lamps on as he drew in his book.

You scooted towards his side, “what are you writing?” You asked.

“Just illustrating my car design.” He replied, showing you the notebook.

The car was way more detailed, the different parts with writing written all over the page, “what does this say?” You asked, looking at the writings around the page.

His fingers traced each and every word, even though you didn't know anything about cars you still listened attentively, his passion for cars and his beautiful voice were enough to make you listen.

He kept reading every word not realizing you had dozed off a while ago.

“The engine will use petroleum-” his head turned towards you, your head rested on his shoulder and your eyes shut. He pulled the covers on you and turned off the light.

“Good night y/n” he whispered softly.

Life felt way better now that Heeseung was living with you, you hadn't realized how much of a deep void Jisung's absence left in your life, the feeling of finally being able to look after someone made you feel life was normal again even when it wasn't.

It wasn't like Heeseung completely depended on you, he was willing to help you out whenever he could. Cutting the vegetables, helping you with repairing the appliances in your house that had been broken since you were in elementary school and he even read his journal filled with cars to you before bed.

“Ahh Heeseung your wound is finally healing” you wrapped the final layer of cloth around his thigh, the bleeding had stopped a few days ago, the area still sensitive but was being replaced with clots slowly.

“Yeah I can see” he replied

“Maybe you can leave the house with me,” you told him.

His eyes widened at the suggestion it wasn't safe for you to go outside let alone him.

A sudden knock on the door interrupted your conversation.

“I will get that,” you replied.

You opened the door to see Police Jaehyun holding a letter in his hand.

“Good morning Y/N, long time no see” Jaehyun sneered clearly drunk as he leaned against the wall.

“Good morning Jaehyun,” you gave him a soft smile.

“This was left on your doorstep,” he handed you an envelope, the back signed with the name Jisung. “Thanks” you replied, almost shutting the door on him.

“You must be lonely ever since Jisung left” Jaehyun's hand slipped between the door as he pushed himself in against your will.

His head turned to the right to see Heeseung sitting underneath the coffee table.

“W-who is that?” Jaehyun stuttered. Your mind went quiet thinking of a reply that wouldn't make him suspicious

Heeseung slowly got up, realizing his cover blew up he was about to raise his hand when-

“He is my fiancé” you blurted out a lie.

Jaehyun's drowsy eyes suddenly in shock, “you're married?!” He asked.

“No, we will be soon.” you said in an effort to push him off the door

When he was finally outside you reached over to Heeseung, “you're safe!” You squealed in happiness.

Heeseung gave you a soft smile, “I like how you called me your fiancé” he spoke slightly flustered.

Your cheeks flushed, that was the first thing you blurted out-maybe it was your subconscious.

“Do you have anyone waiting back home?” You asked, bracing yourself for the answer he would give.

“N-no” he stuttered, blinking his eyes rapidly. He had been surrounded with guys his entire life- from school to university and even the army. Y/N was the first girl in his life he ever spent this much time with.

You giggled, “let’s get married then,” you told him.

His breath hitched in his throat, you furrowed your eyebrows seeing his reluctance, “you don’t like me?” You asked.

“Nothing like that Y/N” he replied, “it’s just…”

He stopped speaking, trying to process his thoughts. He wanted to see a future with you, where he is able to lift you up in his arms and call you his but he never knew what the future held for him. Seeing the volatile situation of the world, there may be an end where he doesn’t get to live the happy ending with you.

“It’s just I don’t know what the future holds for us but hopefully it holds us two together” he finished his sentence.

You felt your heart sink, even though he was truthful it wasn't something you wanted to accept-a future where he wasn't yours.

How stupid you were to even think you had a future with Heeseung, although he had the same physical features, the same manners and the same language he was still considered an enemy, someone if you married you would be considered a traitor.

You didn't continue the topic the rest of the day.

But you did receive the letter from Jisung-

"Dear Y/N

I hope you're doing well, yesterday missiles were blasted to our camp site, many people were killed but luckily I am alive, just have a bit of injury on my abdomen region.

The good news is that according to Lieutenant Kim there is a treaty being discussed that may put the war to an end forever.

I miss you and Irene a lot and can't wait to come back home-hopefully soon.

Yours, Jisung"

Your mind tensed when you read that he hurt himself, worried if he will come safe or not. You immediately kneeled down and started praying, “oh god please help Jisung and let him come back home alive.” You murmured continuously.

“Y/N what happened?” Heeseung asked, pulling you up.

“I-It's Jisung” you stuttered, tears spilling out of your eyes, “he's injured”

Heeseung felt his bones tense, he didn't know Jisung but being injured was a big deal, either you were discarded or were asked to still fight.

You hugged Heeseung tightly as you cried on his shirt. His arm wrapped around your waist and the other one stroked your hair, “he's going to be alive I promise” he whispered in your ear planting a small kiss on the top of your head unknowingly he started crying too.

It was kinda crazy to think about it. One moment you were smiling with Heeseung-a possibility of getting married to one another and now you were crying and worried deeply about your brother.

Your tears were replaced with hiccups, you two just sat there trying to process everything.

“Jisung is probably being taken care of.” Heeseung broke the silence.

“The world is so cruel sometimes,” you replied, your eyes devoid of any hope.

“Don't say that, maybe he is being taken care of by someone.” He told you, caressing your hand.

He pressed his fingers around your cheeks as he moved your face up, “He’s still alive, being taken care off, we both will pray for everything to get better.”

You hugged him once again, assuring yourself everything will be okay and he will come back home safe.

The atmosphere completely changed in the house, Heeseung and you prayed in the evenings for the recovery of Jisung, you felt grateful that whenever you would whimper or panic throughout the day Heeseung would be there to hug you, he started becoming the shoulder you could cry on.

The environment definitely changed in the house, the house felt gloomy and sad, not happy like it used to be. A lot of your time would go into praying for Jisung’s well-being, sudden tremors or panics attacking you but Heeseung would be there to hug you and be the shoulder to cry on.

It was the night of your shift, the same men with the same look of lust in their eyes even though the job was the same your perception of them drastically changed-before you saw them as lustful idiots and now you saw them as killers who were responsible for harming Jisung.

The town felt way safer than before now that there was a treaty being discussed. It was ordered by the government from both sides to loosen up the tension hence the workers at the bar stopped giving you car rides back home.

“Y/N you were fantastic there” Jaehyun sneered behind you. You turned around just to be greeted by his breath smelling like alcohol and cigarettes, “uhh thanks” you replied and started taking fast steps.

“Now where are you going?” Jaehyun pulled you by the wrist and shoved you against the wall.

“Leave me alone, I have a fiancé” you whined, his lips running across the nape of your neck.

“I don't see him here though” he replied and put his hand on your chest. You placed your hands in front and pushed him with your entire strength.

“Oh no you don't bitch” he pulled you by your hair when you were about to run, he slapped you once on your face and kicked you multiple times in the stomach. He pulled you by the collar of your shirt, “Jaehyun no please” you pleaded but he already ripped half of your shirt. As he grabbed your chest. “What is your fiancé going to do about this now?” He smugly replied and left without a dent of worry.

You walked back home, your hands pulling your shirt to cover the sight of your chest as tears fell from your eyes. You quietly opened the door expecting that Heeseung was fast asleep but instead you saw Heeseung sitting on the floor with his journal.

“Y/N what happened?” He rushed towards you seeing your bruised face, “n-n-nothing” you stuttered.

“C’mon Y/N let me ice that for you” he pulled you towards the couch and went to the kitchen to get the supplies.

He iced your face gently afraid he might hurt you if he pressed too hard. “You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he said, “just know you’re safe with me.” He gave you a soft smile assuring you of that fact even though inside he was hurting seeing you like this.

“I was coming back from the hall and Jaehyun punched me.” you spoke up after remaining silent, “the hall?” Heeseung asked, confused.

“I was working as a singer” you told him, his hands froze, the job was dangerous that’s where you would sneak out every few days.

“W-why were you working there?” He felt guilty about the fact you didn’t trust him enough to tell him about the job.

“The pay was good and I needed to support the house plus I was saving up so you could go back home when everything was calm.”

Heeseung started crying as he hugged you, “I am sorry for being such a burden” he said in the midst of his cries, “don’t say that,” you softly replied, “you were the best thing that happened to me.”

You gently pressed your lips against Heeseung’s, pulling him by the neck. He kissed you back and pulled you by the waist, like you were a doll-delicate and fragile. The kiss felt earned, like it was a reward for all the hardships you two endured together and the bond you formed along the way. It was beautiful and memorable.

After Heeseung tugged you under the covers he got out of the house for the first time, the opposite to your house lies the police station, with a smoking Jaehyun sitting comfortably on his seat.

“Hello how can I-” Jaehyun was interrupted with a punch straight to his face, falling straight to the ground. Heeseung got down as he twisted his arm around his back, “this will make sure you don’t touch a single woman again.” He replied, twisting his arm until he heard his bone crack. He got up and left without looking back.

Y/N resigned from her job after that, seeing that she collected more than enough money.

“The peace treaty between Asteria and Riverfield has been established by the presidents, the soldiers are expected to come home tomorrow” the radio played the news. It was a moment of triumph for both the nations, a dispute of 19 years was coming to an end. You prepared Jisung’s favourite oxtail soup to celebrate him coming home, while Heeseung cut the vegetables.

There was a knock heard from the other side, you wiped your hands on your apron as you walked to open the door. On the other side was a soldier, “Y/N right” he asked, giving him a simple nod he handed you over an envelope.

“I am sorry to tell you that your brother Jisung passed away a few days ago due to a critical injury.” You felt your world crash before your eyes, Jisung was gone forever, “his grave is in the memorial and here is the envelope with the money from the government, I am sorry for your loss.” He finished his sentence and handed you the envelope.

“Thank you” you muttered and closed the door. You looked at the envelope seeing 100,000 won inside, you threw the envelope across the room and screamed. 100,000 won was how much his life was worth, if it weren’t for this war maybe he would’ve been here, living normally with his whole life ahead.

You started throwing things around as you screamed and cried frantically, “Y/N no” Heeseung pulled you back, his chest against your back trying his best to comfort you. You stepped as you fell to your knees.

“100,000 won…” you said, “Jisung’s life was only worth 100,000 won”

Heeseung stayed quiet, nothing he could say would make it better.

You freed yourself from Heeseung’s grip and went to the kitchen to pick up the knife, it was about to touch your wrist, “Y/N what are you doing?” Heeseung again held you back, preventing you from letting the knife touch your skin.

“You think Jisung would want you to kick yourself?” Heeseung asked you, “he’s in a better place in heaven, away from the cruel nature of the world.” He told you.

“This life is not worth living,” you cried, the person you deeply cared about was dead.

“Then don’t,” Heeseung told you, “leave this life, come with me to Riverfield and start a new one, I will pay for your art school and we will leave all this behind.”

You turned your head towards him, your eyes red and tears dried, “I would be the most selfish person if I did that,” you told him, “you won’t be selfish Y/N, it will be the first time you choose yourself before anyone else.” He held your cheek in his hand as he kissed your forehead.

Later on that day you and Heeseung walked to the memorial, the park that was once filled with flowers and greenery was filled with graves, you both looked around among the hundreds of graves till you found one with the name carved Jisung.

You placed the flowers on Jisung's grave as you bowed down as a sign of respect. You get on your knees in front of the grave and Heeseung does the same.

“I am sorry Jisung,” you said, facing directly towards his grave, “I wish you were here with me right now, it's sad that you were so excited to fight for the country which couldn't care less to save you or not.” Tears started forming as you continued, “I-I- hope you're in heaven with people who actually care about you.” You finished by bowing at the grave for one last time. It was the last time you will see Jisung forever.

You packed all your clothes as you were getting ready to leave today, ships had started making trips to Riverfield. Heeseung was excited to go back home but the thing he was excited about was starting a new life.

The trip on the ship was smooth, it only took 5 hours to cross Asteria to Riverfield. Crazy how two countries this close could be at war with each other for so long.

It was another 2 hour drive to Heeseung’s house, when you finally arrived your eyes couldn't believe what you saw. Heeseung’s house was massive like you knew he came from a place of wealth but his house screamed royalty and it was beautiful as well, with a massive gate and a huge garden with pebbled boundaries.

Heeseung rang the doorbell and was greeted by a woman in her fifties who was visibly shocked, “Oh my god Heeseung,” she pulled him in a tight embrace, "they told me you were dead.” Her tears fell on Heeseung’s coat as she tightly hugged him, afraid to let go.

“I would’ve been dead” he told her, “But Y/N saved me mother” he pulled your hand as he hugged your waist.

“Oh Y/N” his mother took your hands, “thank you for saving my son’s life.” she kissed the back of your hand. You gave her a soft smile, “Don’t be” you replied, “you raised him well.”

“Mr. Lee and Sunghoon, come down” Heeseung’s mother shouted. An old man, the same age as his mother came down, his eyes widened when he saw Heeseung, “my boy” he rushed to Heeseung as he took his face in his hands.

“You are alive?” he asked, his hands shivering from the overwhelming excitement of seeing his boy.

“I was saved by Y/N” he took in your hand as you bowed to his father, Mr. Lee stopped you by holding your shoulders, “Thank you so much Y/N” he smiled as he hugged you.

Heeseung’s mom escorted you to his bedroom, the floor was polished hardwood despite the fact no one was living there, there was a cabinet filled with awards and car models, a desk filled with papers and the coziest bed you’ve ever seen.

That day you slept like a baby in Heeseung’s arms, the first time you felt safe even though there was an overbearing guilt of leaving Asteria behind, you couldn’t wait for this new life.

The first few days were an absolute bliss, waking up to the sun rising, you were accepted quickly into the Lee family, often helping Ms. Lee with the chores and cooking. Heeseung would often take you out of the house to the park for walks, he even enrolled you in Riverfield art school where you spent most of your time. Life was finally feeling calm and restored.

“Heeseung and Sunghoon, I have great news,” Mr. Lee said while everyone was eating their food on the dining table. “The war has brought an increased demand for the need for cars, the government has invested 25 million won in the company for new cars.”

Heeseung froze, he already predicted that the war would increase the demand of the war but seeing the opportunity given still shocked him.

“That's amazing me and Sunghoon will start working on it tomorrow” Heeseung spoke and Sunghoon nodded. “That's my boy!” Mr. Lee responded proudly.

Now the routine drastically changed, instead of just you getting prepared in the morning Heeseung did too, he started going to the factory the same time you left for art school. In the factory he was manufacturing the automobile parts, prototype after prototype wanting to get it perfect to the last minute detail.

Even though life got busy you two made time for each other. He would tell you about what he had been up to in the factory and you showed him your drawings, again filled with Phoenix but it was beautiful nevertheless.

“The sunrise looks so beautiful from here” you told Heeseung. You both were on your regular evening walk, it was a peaceful path around a mountain near Heeseung's house. The sun rays would brightly shine across the horizon from afar, another day had gotten over.

You both stopped on the top of the hill to admire the view, but Heeseung was too busy taking in the view beside him as the rays of the sun illuminated your face highlighting your face.

“Isn't this perfect Heeseung?” You asked him, turning your head towards him but you just found him smiling as he looked in your direction.

“Y/N you know how much I love you” he said as he got down on one knee, you pressed your hands against your mouth-no way he was going to do what you expected.

He pulled out a velvet box from his pocket, “will you marry me?” The four letters you had always dreamt of hearing, your heart was beating rapidly too overwhelmed to say anything you just gave him an assuring nod followed by a hug.

The ring was beautiful, it was an elegant teardrop shaped diamond placed in a thin gold band.

The garden was decorated with white flowers, with chairs and a long carpet with a beautiful arch on the end. It was everything you saw in the movies, maybe even better. Your dress was a white poofy sparkling with intricate lace and a long veil accompanying the look. You didn’t feel anxious at all, maybe overwhelmed but you were just excited for what this new chapter held for you.

You were walking down the aisle, your eyes never left Heeseung, he was wearing a suit that fit him perfectly, his hair was slicked back but it was his eyes that stole the look-the look of pure unwavering awe the way he couldn’t believe this was real.

The chairs were filled with Heeseung’s side of the family but there was one seat which was empty, it was meant for Jisung. Ms. Lee’s face had tears streaming down her face and the others looked happy for you two, it was the first wedding that took place in the wedding after a war.

When you finally reached towards him, he let out a breath that he was holding on to. Your hands eloped with his like they were made to fit there. His touch was solid and anchored you to this perfect moment.

“Mr. Lee, do you take Y/N as your wife, to love her and cherish her through good and hard times?” the priest asked

His answer was firm and clear, “I do”

“And do you Ms. Y/N take Heeseung as your husband, to love and cherish him from this day forward.” The priest asked you.

“I do” you answered the question

“You may now kiss the bride,” The priest announced.

Heeseung didn’t need to be told twice, he pulled you by the waist gently as he pressed his lip to yours, sealing the start of a new life and a new chapter. The hall was now filled with cheer and clapping to commemorate you two.

The rest of the wedding day was filled with dancing, eating and multiple people coming by to congratulate you. It felt ethereal like you were living a fairytale, married to the man who you thought you had no future with to living a happy ever after with him. This was all you could ask for.

“Ahh my feet hurt” you pulled your dress up to see red patches forming around on your toes, the band of your heels gripping your heels tightly. It is the end of the wedding day and you two are getting ready to head off to the bedroom.

“No problem” Heeseung said and the next thing you knew you were picked up by Heeseung in a second, his hand on the back of your knee and the other one on your back as he carried you bridal style. The entire time you fluttered your legs and giggled like a middle school girl who had just been asked out by her crush.

He laid you gently on the bed as he took your heels off, his hands massaging your toes in an effort to heal them. You got up and unzipped the back of your dress, revealing your white lace bra and underwear which you picked specifically for tonight, when you were dress shopping with Ms. Lee.

“Oh” Heeseung got surprised, he put his hands over his eyes in an attempt to give you privacy. You laughed at his innocence, “you can open your eyes honey.” You told him, “Can I?” He slowly pulled his hands away from his eyes to see you in your white lace bra and underwear.

His eyes shimmered with glee, he couldn't believe the prettiest woman he had ever seen was now his wife.

You put your arms towards him, ushering him to come forward and hug you. He quickly embraced you, making you fall back on the bed. Your lips quickly found his, kissing him like you had been deprived for years, it was sloppy, sweet and filling.

Your hands quickly pulled Heeseung's coat from his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt. You pulled away to admire his upper body. The fresh scars you saw a few months ago were now faint, he gained a bit of weight but his muscles were still defined, he was still the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

His hand moved along your back as he unclasped your bra revealing your breasts, he looked at you to get your consent to which you nodded. He fondled your breasts with care, you just smiled at his innocence, so many months together and he still treated you like you were the most fragile thing ever.

“God you're beautiful” he murmured under his breath as he kissed you.

Heeseung pulled his trouser pants down along with his boxers as he positioned himself along your entrance. It was both of your's first time so he made sure to be slow and gentle. He slowly shoved his length inside your pussy, moaning as you pulled him towards yourself.

He quickened his pace, your body jolted from the waves of pleasure arching your back as you scratched his back.

You both came together as he plopped down on the bed. His mind was still blown from everything that was taking place, how he met you just a few months ago, how you two fell in love and just now made love on your wedding night.

“I love you” Heeseung broke the silence staring right at you, you turned your head from the ceiling towards him, “I love you too” you gave him a soft smile. The rest of the night you cuddled and dozed off to sleep.

The design of the car after months of hard work had been finalized and the first car from the Lee automobile enterprises was finally made, it was a medium sized, efficient car that took extremely little fuel and it was extremely cheap to make. Everything the government needed for a car.

The car was called The Phoenix, it was a homage to your love for Phoenixes and how they represented your and Heeseung's entire journey of rebirth. From the ruins and the pain you two endured throughout the war to the freeing life you both were living as if you two arose from the ashes that kept you back.

A week after the mail came into the house, unknowingly you picked it up and opened it, your eyes not believing what you read, “Heeseung and Sunghoon come down,” you shouted. Two incredibly sleepy men came down, “Y/N what’s wrong?” they asked and all you did was hand over the envelope. The two guys read each and every line immediately waking up from their sleep. They couldn’t believe it, the stamp of approval for the manufacturing had come, meaning that they would finally be able to mass produce the cars.

The two brothers hugged each other, they couldn’t believe their creation was going to be used by millions of people now.

It was the first time you took a step inside the factory, the first time you got to see a Phoenix being made. The car was beautiful and homely, something you would commonly see on the road. You touched the metal phoenix on the front of the car, it felt oddly familiar.

“It’s your drawing,” Heeseung said, “I took that from your sketchbook.” You felt proud, being part of this entire journey, living your life with Heeseung beside you and now your art being seen on one of the most popular cars inside the country.

“Thank you” you replied, Heeseung suddenly diverted his attention to you.

“For what?” he asked,

“For this life.” you told him as you went up to hug him.

“Y/N you’re the reason I am alive today.” Heeseung murmured as he planted a small kiss on your forehead.

Life didn’t turn out like you wanted it to, but it was for the best. You loved your newfound family and the peace that came with it. Forever grateful this is the life that you woke up to everyday.

The End

taglist @kristynaaah

#enhypen smut #enhypen #heeseung smut #heeseung #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung x you #enhypen fanfiction #enha x reader #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x y/n #enhypen imagines #kpop smut #smut

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