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muntitled · 1 month ago

Text

Boa

Pairings: Geum Seongje x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're just a kid, caught in a gangster’s crosshairs. What happens when you don’t deliver like you should…

Warnings: Language, Dom!Seongje, Gangsterism, Bullied!Reader, Coercion, Bullying, Extortion, Mentions of Rape, Smut +18 (mdni), Dark fic, Dubious consent, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Desperate Sex, Humiliation, Degradation

A/N: I'm not responsible for the media you consume. I wrote this for me so...

Ever since you've started working for him, you've learned to get extremely acquainted with the floor.

"I'm sorry, Sir…” your voice is brittle as you try to make yourself heard in the suffocating internet cafe, “I'm short on delivery today..."

Hardwood. Tile. Linoleum. It's become all too familiar to you. The floor is all you see in his presence.

You never looked Seongje in the eyes unless he addresses you first. He likes that, you suspect.

It's kept you alive this long so you must be doing something right.

"I got assigned a kid to tutor and..." you clear your throat, not daring to make direct eye contact, choosing instead, to keep your eyes trained on the dirty, cold floor.

The internet cafe is the very last place you'd want to be on a Friday evening. You were caught right in between two challenging essay due dates- one for English and one for AP English. Both hung gravley over your head, threatening to set off your sympathetic nervous system and have you fainting from academic stress. Seeing him was the very last thing you needed.

"That tutoring time fucked with my system and-" despite all your achievements, despite the academic prestige and the boundless knowledge… in Seongje's presence you feel insignificant.

A bug he's letting scurry around for no other reason except his enjoyment. You didn't want to get stomped on. You saw what happened to the other kids under his thumb and it kept you up at night. All that blood. All the merciless sadism.

You aren't dumb enough to hope an exception would be made for you.

"I'm sorry,” you conclude, and for a second, you get no response. He plays his game. His friends remain silent.

That's all until he pushes the bridge of his glasses up further against his nose. A calm, quiet sigh leaves his lips.

“Before you started working for me, do you know what you were?" Seongje doesn't take his eyes off the screen. His fingers run deftly over the keys as he speaks to you without ever really acknowledging you, "You were in an alleyway, about to get raped by Eunjang scum."

"Yes, Seongje, I know-"

"And in return for my kindness, what did I ask of you?"

"FUCK- COVER ME BRO!" Your eye snaps up to the source of the loud and sudden burst of energy. Your frightened and pitiful eyes find a boy seated adjacent to Seongje and his goons. He's bent over his screen, clearly not a part of the group. Clearly far too young.

Your heart sinks when you realize Seongje's eyes are trained on the boy too.

"Ya…” Seongje raises his voice a decimal above the cacophony yet it has you flinching. “Too loud,” he says to the boy, “Didn’t anyone teach you shut up when adults are talking?” he asks monotonously to the boy- a child really- still mourning the loss of his avatar on the screen. He doesn't pay Seongje any mind.

Of course he doesn't. He's a kid.

How could he have known?

He came to an internet cafe to play a game with his friends.

It's the boy's innocence that hurts the most.

He doesn't know that the monsters under his bed are very real.

They walk where he walks.

They don't hide.

They move about freely.

Your heart makes like the titanic and sinks.

"Excuse me for a second." Seongje addresses you politely, finally giving you a fleeting glance before pushing himself out of his gamer chair. You see his entire row of friends (if that's what one could even refer to them as) remain unfazed as Seongje rounds the table to stand directly behind the young boy.

He’s bigger, far bigger as he pushes the rims of his glasses up, staring directly at you

"I know you're smart so you're probably aware that your fuck-up won't be tolerated-” he says to you, despite slithering his arm around the boys neck like a boa as he squeezes. Everyone keeps their eyes trained to their computers. Your fist curls at your side. You want to look away but you can't because you're speaking to Seongje. You wouldn't want to aggravate him further by showing him his mindlessly violence bothers you. So you try not to flinch.

You try not to let the casual violence scare you. How nonchalantly he speaks while an elementary school boy flails in his arms, begging to be released from the headlock making his lips turn blue

“You knew there'd be a punishment,” Seongje is still speaking to you. You hold your breathe in solidarity with the boy choking in his arms, “-for fucking up your delivery-” crimson blossoms onto the little boys face but Seongje keeps his eyes on you, appearing unfazed by the boy flailing like an animal in arms, "And yet you came anyway. That's the kinda work ethic, I like-” he smiles, “I like it alot-"

Eventually, after what feels like forever, he lets go of the boy. You finally breathe as well, watching as the kid slumps forward ingesting the air in horrid gasps.

Seongje bends forward, patting the boy on the back.

"No more interrupting when I speak, yeah?" Whether the boy was new to this particular internet cafe, it was unclear, but you hoped to whatever divine being that he wouldn't dare come back.

"So I'll let it slide-" He turns his attention back to you and you watch, still shaken up as Seongje leaves the little boy to make his way back to his side of the table. When he breezes past you he smells like nothing. Like his eyes, everything about him is empty.

"Thank you, Seongje-"

He nods before adding, "After you get on your knees." The goon sitting nearest to you, all the way at the end of the table, his fingers hover over the keys, and just like before, the room is rid of all air.

"Excuse me?”

He pulls out his chair for you, like some mimic of a perfect gentleman he opens his arm, gesturing you in.

"I want you on your knees, under the desk.” His words hang above you all. It has tears threatening to spill. Bile rising.

“What’s with the face? Its not like I’m asking you to suck my dick,”

"Seongje, I need to get home-"

"If you can't do it yourself I'm more than happy to help."

That has your legs moving into action. In your periphery, it feels as though everyone's watching you. A thing in psychology called the imaginary audience. When you're so self-conscious you concoct this idea of being the center of attention… only this time, it's real. You know they're all watching you. You know no one will do anything about it.

"Under the desk you go," he chuckles before sitting down and pushing his chair back in. You back away, creating intense distance between you. Your back hits dirty wires and your knees press hesitantly down onto the grime just to achieve a more comfortable position. Everything you see is his legs, his friends legs and you're suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to cry.

You want to scream at him to let you go. He's hijacked you from your endless pile of homework and yet the very thought of standing up for yourself causes a sea of nausea.

So you sit there in the dark, not knowing when this punishment would conclude. When would he let you go home? That sends you into another spiral. You've heard Seongje could game for 24 hours straight. Maybe more if he was in close vicinity to food and a bathroom. You knew this internet cafe would close eventually, that gives you the smallest sliver of hope and so you do your time.

Never once does he acknowledge you- the girl under his desk. Unbeknownst to Seongje, you catch one of his fellow gang members sneak multiple glances at you under the table. They all do. Like they enjoy seeing you under here. As time passes, and you slip further and further away from the stress, you realize that down here, on the floor, under his desk, the world is small. It's quite comforting actually and that wasn't the trauma talking.

You've always liked small spaces.

It definitely beat dealing with whatever he had going on up there half the time.

Slowly, your body begins to shut down. Your energy plummets from all the stress and all the thoughts. This is the first time you've been forced into a spot for too long doing nothing. No essays. No tutoring.

Due to tendencies from your childhood that you should've gotten rid of, you find yourself curling up against his leg. He stiffens and you snap out of the exhaustion long enough to reel back. Especially when you see his hand reach under the table. Your heart hammers in your chest, not a single word spoken as his hand searches for something. You move a bit closer until his hand catches on your hair. You wince as he drags you closer, pushing your head against his leg as you had done.

He leaves you there. You try to regulate your breathing as you feel him adjust in his seat above you.

You shift as well. Not your head. He clearly wants you there. But your legs are uncomfortable. You try to kneel and it's ridiculous because your head never leaves his leg.

No position seems comfortable enough until he stretches his leg out, right in between yours and you're made to straddle it. Above you, his fingers are still hitting the keys and you try to disassociate from the fact that his leg is pushing against your cunt. You try to sneak a peek at the surface, his glasses are trained on the screen. Not knowing whether it's your exhaustion making a reappearance but you could've sworn you hear the words, "good girl," release from him in a low drawl.

Something in his tone has you shifting over his leg. Your cunt warms against his leg and you fight the urge to buck against him. All you had to do was remember who it is that you're currently touching. That conscious reminder has you once again hellbent on doing your time with concrete resolve.

That resolve breaks.

It shatters when he eases his back against the chair, enough to once again slither his hand down towards you.

He curls his fist into your hair and tugs.

He pushes you down and lifts you up and you mindlessly follow his movements until you realize he's coaxed you into riding his leg.

He lets go of your hair, satisfied when your hips move out of their own accord.

You hate how good it feels to quite literally be beneath him. You look up and you whimper oh so quietly when you see that small smile play on his lips while his eye remains on the screen.

He's given you new instructions now and so you don't dare to stop moving your hips against him. Despite the damp spot forming on the seat of your underwear. You're not sure what it is that allows you to lose yourself so easily. Perhaps it's all the expectations that melt away when you're doing something so pitiful. You're breaking for him and he's letting you. You're not in control of anything and there's freedom in that.

“F-Fuck-” you didnt mean for the words to slip. There are still other people here but you also couldn't help the wave of pleasure that pushed up so suddenly. Your clit is moving against the fabric of his pants just right and your eyes threaten to roll to the back of your head.

The second that whimper escapes your mouth, he stiffens again.

You watch as he leans back again, this time his hand isn't reaching out for you. It's to ghost over the bulge forming in his pants. Somehow that spurs you on more.

You grind against him desperately and before he can take his hand away, this time you reach up for him.

You watch him closely. The glare from the screen reflects on his glasses. His jaw, tight.

He controls the game easily with one hand, while you bring the other into your mouth.

You're not sure where this other side of you came from. This vixen who rolls her tongue out and forces his index and ring finger into her warm mouth.

He becomes more and more restless… His breath hitching. Seongje's fingers hit the keys more aggressively, while his right hand forces his fingers further down your throat. His hips buck upwards and you can see the damp spot forming where his cock is straining against his pants. He's about to cum in his pants and you're about to cum on his leg and it's far too much for you.

You know his friends are about. You try to preserve even a sliver of dignity but it all goes out the window.

“Fuck-” he spits out, slamming his fist on the table before abandoning the game. There's a fire in his eyes as he sits back to watch you peer up at him with complete and utter desperation.

“What a fucking slut-” he snarled, cleaely audible enough for not only him but his friends too. It has your mouth snapping open. Your back arches as you try to watch him watching you cum on his leg.

You've never held his attention for this long and it sends you off the edge.

“S-Seongje-” you barely squeak out as your cunt spasms against his leg. You rut uncontrollably, spurred on by the name That fell from your lips as if your body needed a reminder of just who it was making you cum. Your tormentor.

It has you seeing stars.

For all of 11 seconds.

Until it comes crashing down on you. Your pitiful act has you reeling. Mind spinning.

You don't want to look up at him but you have nowhere else to look. Your heart sinks when you see a smile form slowly across his lips… Somehow you knew you'd never be rid of him.

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teliphone · 4 months ago

Text

Limerence

Summary: Your relationship with Jaeyi is far from normal. It’s toxic, suffocating and obsessive. Students around you stay away from you to avoid trouble with Jaeyi. A new student enters which stirs things a little. Maybe she could be your escape? Or maybe it leads you to sink deeper into Jaeyi’s trap.

Warning(s): Smut, Jealousy, Obessesion, Slapping, Chains, Fingering, Overstimulation

Word Count: 3.5k

Yoo Jaeyi and you walk down the halls next to each other… or rather you’re trying to keep up with her. Her hand tightly wraps around yours, pulling you to match speed with her. You let out a small grunt of pain at how hard she’s gripping. She stares forward, ignoring everyone. You spare one glance to the side. Students mumble with each other as they stare at you. They quickly look away when you make eye contact with them. It’s quite sad, you have soon realized. No one dared try to talk to you ever since you got into a relationship with her. All your friends have left you without any reason. You’re constantly stuck with Jaeyi and it's starting to drive you crazy. The only space she allows you is by letting you sit alone at your desk. She sits a few rows behind you, so she can watch every movement you make.

Jaeyi drags you into her science lab. The little mice run around in their cages. It creeps you out. You never understood how she could easily test on those innocent mice. You pull back slightly to stop her. She narrows her eyes and finally turns around to look at you. You drop your shoulders in annoyance. You aggressively jerk your hands away from her before crossing your arms.

“What are you doing?” You fum. She breaks into a smile as she straightens her back.

“I want to spend time with you,” She chirps. You roll your eyes and let out a laugh of disbelief.

“I’ve been with you all day. Can’t I just spend some time somewhere else?” You huff. She turns around and walks deeper into the lab. She opens one of the cages and picks up a small mouse. She completely ignored you. You can feel your frustration building up. You hate when she blatantly ignores you.

“I am leaving,” You mumble before walking towards the door. You didn’t wait for her response. You knew she was going to find you anyway. No matter how far you try to hide and escape from her, she always seems to find a way to get you. It scares and baffles you. But what scares you the most is if she leaves you. She has removed everyone in your life… all you have left is her. You need her. You pause at the door handle.

“I’ll… text you,” You hesitate before exiting. Jaeyi secretly smirks as she lifts the mice to her face.

“Cute,” She mumbles directing it to you.

Class today is different. You stare at the new student, Woo Seulgi, standing in front of the class. She looks innocent and lost. Your eyes scan down to see her fidgeting with the ends of her uniform. Your lips broke into a small smile. You wonder if she could survive in this toxic school. She makes eye contact with you and you smile at her—a small one with no further meaning. You didn’t pay much attention to her after that. Returning to working on your homework. Suddenly you feel a presence beside you.

“...Can I sit here?” She softly asks. Her doe eyes are cute. The students in the room mumble against themselves. Your seat is usually empty. No one wanted to disturb your studying and gave you space. But truthfully it's because they don’t want to get in between you and Jaeyi. They fear what she could do to them.

“Yes,” You finally answer. You didn’t care what Jaeyi would think. You've had enough of her controlling your life. You can hear a couple of students softly gasping and mumbling. Seulgi smiles and takes a seat. You stare at her a little bit before looking down at your textbook. Jaeyi quietly analyzes the scene before her. Her facade doesn’t break. In fact, she smiles. It gets her excited. She finds you cute for trying to break her rules and not knowing what it will cause you.

It’s a few minutes after break and you walk back to class. You slide the doors of the classroom open to find it empty. You return earlier than the others. You make your way to your desk til a phone notification catches your attention. You scan the room to make sure you aren’t mistaken. You locate the noises coming from Jaeyi’s desk. You look around to make sure no one is around. Her phone buzzes against her desk a few more times. You couldn’t help but find it interesting that she would leave her phone. With curious eyes, you go to look at her texts.

‘Please delete the video’

‘I apologized!’

‘I’ll do anything you want!’

Your eyes widen in confusion. What video is this person talking about that they desperately want Jaeyi to delete it? Is she blackmailing someone? Before your thoughts can continue, the door slides open. You quickly glance away from her phone. Jaeyi stands at the door staring back at you. There is an unreadable look on her face. She smiles, but her eyes are emotionless. You slightly gulp and avert your stare. You walk to your desk and act like you weren’t caught red-handed. Jaeyi slowly walks past you while staring at you. You feel your heart racing. She takes a seat on her desk and lifts her phone. Her eyes swiftly read the text messages. She glances up from her phone to stare at you with heavy-lidded eyes.

She knows you saw it.

She slides off her desk. You hear her footsteps coming closer from behind. You unconsciously straighten your back. Your awareness heightens. She places her hand on top of your shoulders and grips. Your breathing hicks. She leans her body down til her lips touch your ears.

“Don’t tell anyone,” She whispers softly. You secretly clench your fist underneath the desk. She smirks and tilts her head to look at your face. You quickly stand up to get away from her. Her presence is too suffocating. The sweet scent of her perfume is enough to make your brain numb. Your action causes her to widen her eyes and step backward. You tug the green uniform closer to your body before glaring at her. You fascinate her without even trying. From behind, you can hear the sounds of more students entering the room. They all freely talk amongst themselves happily.

“I don’t care what you do as long as it doesn’t involve me,” You speak in a low tone. Little did you know, it does involve you. Everything Jaeyi does involves you whether you like it or not. Her lips slowly turn into a small smirk. You didn’t wait for her response and turned your body around. Right at that moment, a student accidentally bumps into you. The drink in her hand falls onto the white of your shirt. You can feel the cold liquid seep into the cloth. She gasps and immediately starts apologizing. You are stunned for a moment before forcing a small smile.

“It’s okay,”

“No no, I will pay for you,” She splutters. She starts running her hands over your shirt to try and clean it. Her face expresses such stress and embarrassment. Her movement causes the liquid to spread, making your shirt translucent. You softly grab onto her wrist to stop her.

“I said it’s okay,” You repeat. She stops moving and stares at you with pitiful eyes. Her poor heart feels like it’s escaping her chest. She nervously looks over to see Jaeyi staring at her with a blank expression. You let go of her hand and start walking to the door. You expect Jaeyi to follow you, but she doesn’t. You secretly feel sad and disappointed about it.

You enter the bathroom and slowly take off your uniform. This leaves you with just a bra on. You plop the white shirt into the sink and switch on the water. You quietly listen and watch the water drench your shirt. You tilt your head to look at the ceiling and let out a deep sigh. What a hassle. You didn’t have an extra pair of shirts meaning you would have to wear this wet shirt back to class. You reach down into the sink and start scrubbing the material. After a few minutes of scrubbing, you lift the shirt to examine it. Water drips at the edges. Good enough. You wring the shirt til it's somewhat dry and put it back on. The coldness makes you shiver. You just have to suffer through til the end of class.

You take a seat, slightly shivering. The air feels so cold against the wetness of your shirt. It feels uncomfortable having to be in a class like this. You avoid the stares of other students as you take out your textbooks. Among the students, one is particularly more interested. Jaeyi can't stop staring at you as you try to pay attention to your homework. Her eyes slowly examine your back. She sees the wet damp on your back and tilts her head. The wetness has made your shirt slightly translucent. Your bra is so visible, it's almost humorous to her. She can’t help but think it’s like you want her to see it. She starts to smirk and shift against her seat. You’re so exposed, yet you don’t even realize it. You lean forward to straighten your back. Her eyes dilate at the full view of your back. She nibbles her bottom lip as she starts to fantasize about you, specifically your bra.

She imagines herself running her fingers down your spine to tease you. She traps you between her body and your desk. You would blush so cutely as she leans her face close to yours. It drives her crazy how reactive you are.

“Stop it,” You glare at her, slightly pushing against her shoulders. She pushes you to sit on your desk. She quickly slides her body between your legs. She smirks and brings her hands to the front of your wet white button-up.

“Stop?” She hums as she starts to unbutton the first button. By the third button, she can see your bra peeking out. You shyly look away while biting your lips. She slowly finishes off the last button and quickly tugs your shirt aside to expose your front to her. Finally, after seeing your bra through the shirt, she can see it fully. The cold air touches your bare skin. Your cheeks start to burn bright red. Her eyelids become heavy with lust. She brings her hands up to cup your boobs. Her thumb harshly rubs against your nub. Your breathing hicks. You shut your eyes to save yourself from making more noise. Her two thumbs grind against your sensitive nub while groping the soft plush. She repeats the action over and over til your boobs start to become red from her touches. You tilt your head back and let out a soft moan. She smiles at your reaction and rewards you by kissing your neck. You try to clench your thighs together, but her waist stops you. Your lower stomach feels funny. Suddenly you couldn't handle her touch anymore. It’s making your brain turn into mush. You grip onto her wrist causing her to stop. She leans back and widens her eyes in surprise. Your breathing shakes as you glare up at her. Her eyes were black like the void, unreadable.

“Do you want me to stop?” She asks softly.

“...Yes,” You breathe out. You didn’t understand why you said yes. The feeling was too much… but it was also so good. She pauses, deep in thought before her eyes quickly shift.

“Okay,” She simply responds. She removes herself from your body, leaving you breathless on your desk. Your front is still completely exposed. She smiles at the redness on your chest. As you try to collect your thoughts, you hear a camera click. You quickly glare up to see her snapping a picture on her phone. A picture of your touched boobs. She smiles brightly and slides her phone back into her pocket.

Jaeyi clenches her thighs underneath her desk. She couldn’t believe that just imagining about you caused her to feel turned on. She grips her pencil and smiles. Laughing at herself for being so needy. It’s silly to her. She forces herself to look away from your innocent body and back to her textbooks. This little game you’re playing is just the beginning.

Seulgi begins to notice how see-through your shirt is. Her eyes widen, and she swiftly takes off her jacket, gently placing it over you for cover. You turn to meet her gaze, and she offers a soft smile before shifting her focus back to her homework. With a smirk, you touch the hem of her jacket, hoping Jaeyi noticed the gesture. She surely did. Though her expression stays neutral, her grip on the pencil tightens, turning her knuckles pale.

Jaeyi’s room is dark and cold as she slams you against her wall. She traps you between her hands. You grunt in pain at the impact. You could tell your shoulders are going to be bruised again. You glare up at her eyes in hatred. Her eyes dilate and you can see the pure jealousy in her eyes. Her tongue brushes the inside of her cheeks. Thoughts swirl inside her head. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. She’s so jealous. So easy.

“You’re laughing?” Her voice low. You playfully move your eyes from her lips to her eyes while you poke her lower stomach. Your fingers slowly drag up to grip her collar. You tilt your head and lean closer to her face. Her eyebrows lift in amusement.

“You don’t control me,” You whisper. Her eyes darken as she smirks. You shove her back and attempt to walk away. She quickly grabs your wrist and spins you around. You fight against her, but she is surprisingly strong. Her hands naturally wrap around the back of your neck, forcing you to look at her. Your eyes feel like sharp knives while hers look warm.

“I’m going to prove to you I do,” She hisses. She presses her lips against yours softly. You try to move away, but the hand behind your neck locks you. Her tongue brushes against your closed mouth. Her fingers gently rub your neck. While she kisses you, she pushes you onto her bed. She quickly grabs your hands and pins them above your head. Her knee secretly slots between your legs causing you to moan. With your mouth open, she can deepen the kiss.

“Kiss me,” She begs. You try to squeeze your legs together, but her legs block you. You jerk your body, trying to get away from the source. You can feel yourself getting turned on. She leans away from the kiss in frustration. Her eyes are lidded and lustful. Your chest moves up and down fast. She dips her mouth down to your neck to lick and suck. You accidentally let out a soft moan. She smiles and bites down on your skin. She pulls away again to look at your eyes.

“Your moans are sweet,” She hums. Her voice is so soft and seductive. You feel your heart skip a beat.

“Fuck you,” You snap, feeling your cheeks turn red. She smiles and dips down to your ears. Her breathing tickles you.

“Stop fighting me,” She mumbles. She sticks out her tongue and licks the outer shell of your ears. You twitch against her body, squeezing your eyes shut. She knew every spot to get you hotter. With a quick movement, she unclasps three buttons from your shirt to reveal your bra. She licks her lips and squeezes her legs together. She’s been turned on since earlier.

“You teased me all day,” She whispers. She lets go of your wrists and places both hands on your boobs. You lay submissively, not trying to move away and she smiles. She starts pressing her fingers into the softness of your chest. Her eyes glued onto them like she’s addicted. Your nipple hardens and exposes themselves on the surface of the bra. Her eyes flicker up to watch your reaction as she brushes her thumbs against them. Your head tilts back a little and hum a soft moan. Her tongue drags down to the middle of your chest. Her hand continues to squeeze your boobs aggressively. You bring your hands down to her lower neck. You gently gesture her head to look back up.

“Kiss me,” You blush. She lets out a giggle and moves her body up to capture your lips again. You feverishly move your lips against hers. Her lips feel so soft and plump. You feel like you're floating. She tilts her head, bumping her nose against yours. She keeps the pace to match your needy ones. Her brain turns into a mess when you slightly bite her bottom. She pulls away from the kiss, her chest moving up and down. Her fingers move to unclasp the rest of your buttons. She helps you get out of your green school uniform. She starts taking off hers as well but leaves on her black bra and panties.

You bring a hand up to cover your red cheeks. You feel embarrassed being the only fully naked one. It makes you feel so vulnerable before her. Just how she wanted. She wants to show how much power she has over you. She moves to the side to grab something out of her bed drawers. Your heart starts to hammer against your chest when you realize what she’s holding. There between her hands is a small silver collar with a small chain. She returns between your thighs and gestures for you to sit up. You obey and she clasps the collar around your neck. She tugs the chains for fun causing you to jerk forward. She pecks your lips.

“Turn around,” She smiles. Your response is too slow making her tug the chains again. You grunt and it clicks into your head to start moving. You turn your body til you're on all fours, your bottom facing her. You gulp nervously because you can no longer see her. Suddenly you feel a hard slap on your bottom causing you to cry out. Her eyes darken and she smiles sinisterly.

“You know you’re not supposed to talk to anyone but me right?” She reminds you before slapping again. You bite your lower lip to stop yourself from crying out.

“I am just protecting you,” She whispers. She tugs the chains harshly making your head tilt back. You choke against the collar, tears starting to form.

“Say you’re sorry,” She demands. She slaps you again and smiles when she sees your ass turning red.

“S-sorry!” You cry. She places her cold hands gently against your bruised bottom. She rubs them a little then runs her fingers down to your slit. She rubs your core and chuckles. You’re shamefully wet. It’s like she didn’t have to do much for you to turn into a dirty mess for her. She rubs your juice around your clit. You moan and jerk your body. She continues to circle your clit til she can feel your juices spilling from your core.

“Please,” You beg, jerking your hips to chase her fingers. She smirks and tilts her head.

“Yes?” She purrs.

“...Please put it in,” You blush.

“Anything for you,” She hums before shoving two fingers into your core. You gasp at the sudden feeling of getting full. You squeeze your eyes shut and grip onto the bed sheets. Your eyebrows furrow in pleasure. She moves her fingers in and out slowly, watching closely at how your hips jerk against her. She feels more turned on and bites her lips. She lets you ride her fingers for a moment. Listening closely to your quiet moans. But you’re moaning too quietly for her. She tugs the chains hard causing you to tilt your head back. It chokes you. She starts moving her hands fast, abusing your walls. You cry out loudly.

“You react so well,” She mumbles to herself. The sounds of your wet core against her fingers become embarrassingly loud. You moan so sweetly it sounds like a melody in her ears.

“I’m going to come,” You choke. She moves her fingers faster and tugs the chains harder. You feel so sinister in this position. It makes you roll your eyes back and moan. Her two fingers slide easily against your wet gummy walls. After a few more strong thrusts, you come onto her fingers. You let out a loud high pitch moan. Your silk runs down her knuckles and she chuckles. She lets go of the chain and slows down her movement to let you catch your breath. She pulls out her wet fingers and rubs your clit. Your body shakes and jerks from overstimulation. Just when you thought it was over, you felt her fingers thrust into your core again.

“I am going to make you come over and over til you turn dumb,” She snickers, slamming her fingers knuckles deep. You cry out and jerk your body away from her, but the chains limit you from moving away. You claw at the collar, but find it useless as your body bounces at each of her thrusts.

“I want to numb your mind til all you think about is me.”

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giogiobb · 1 month ago

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Off The Radar

Geum Seong-Je x Reader

tags: vulgar language, sadomasochism, smut, shotgunning, smoke play, choking, overstimulation, dacryphilia, scratching, biting, auralism, cream pie, pet names, mildly toxic relationship.

Takes place after the scene in episode 7 where Seong-Je saves Jung-Tae from the union members.

It has been a few days since you heard from Seong-Je, and honestly, it’s not a big surprise that he is off the radar again. However, he always calls you on the third day at the latest. He left you wondering why it was different this time, and the radio silence from him was starting to become troubling.

You sat at your desk, bouncing your leg up and down, anxiously chewing away on your fingernails. Reaching towards your phone, you hurriedly found his number and tried to reach him again. “The number you dialed is not available…” Voicemail, again.

You stood up and started pacing around your room, wondering what to do and how to find him. You weren’t the biggest fan of Na Baek-Jin, but he was your best option at this point.

You went through your contacts and found his number to call him. “Hello?” an uninterested voice came from the other side. “Hi, Baek-Jin. How are you?” You spoke with hesitation. “What do you want from me? Don’t know where Seong-je is?” He asked with annoyance. “Actually, yeah. Can you tell me where he is?” You asked nervously. “Hmm.” He said after a bit of silence and hung up on you.

A minute later, he texted an address. It’s an address to a warehouse that you had never heard of. You quickly thanked him and sneaked out of the house without alerting your parents. Though they wouldn’t even care if they saw you leave.

You ran your way there as it surprisingly wasn’t too far away, and your fear of not seeing him even tonight grew a pit in your stomach, making you rush. You reached there and took a moment to catch your breath before sliding the door open and walking in.

His head shot towards the sound of your foot shuffling in, almost dropping his newly lit cigarette onto the ground. He looked confused and stood up to walk towards you.

You let out a sigh of relief before lunging yourself at him and hugging him with all the strength you could gather. “I missed you. Were you here all this time?” You asked with a hint of worry. “What are you doing here?” He asked in his raspy voice. You let go of him and looked towards his face. Caressing a fresh scar on his face, you smiled softly until you realised that he hadn’t called you for days, for no fucking reason. Slowly, your expression changed from shocked to anger, and before you knew it, you slapped him across the face.

The cigarette in his mouth went flying to the other side of the room. He slowly turned his head to you with his jaw locked in anger. “What the fuck was that for?” He asked sternly. “You haven’t called me for days, what’s wrong with you? You usually send me a text at least.” You shouted at him with annoyance. However, slapping him and shouting at him was the last thing he needed from anybody, especially not from his girlfriend. His pent-up anger was not going to do either of you any good tonight, and he knew it.

He glared at you before reaching his hand to the back of your head and began dragging you towards the couch by your hair to push you onto it. It took you a second to realise that you had fucked up as he scowled towards you before reaching into his pocket and getting a new cigarette. He lit it and took a long drag of smoke from it before sighing.

He bent down to your eye level before gripping both your cheeks using his hand with bloody knuckles. It felt so harsh to the point that your eyes started to tear up in fear. Seong-Je isn’t a bad boyfriend, but he has his moments which make you fear him, and this was one.

He took a slow drag of the cigarette, eyes locked in with yours, and blew the smoke towards your face. You felt yourself start to cough because of it, but his grip on you became stronger until he spoke. “Though you’re my girlfriend, what gives you the right to slap me, huh? You think you’re so tough, princess.” You began squirming in your seat, uncomfortable, scared, and aroused.

A little secret about you is that you love when Seong-Je is terrifying. You love when he speaks to you sternly in his low voice, because you trust him enough to know that he would never truly hurt you. He noticed your squirming before letting go of your face with a harsh enough push to be thrown onto the couch.

You moved up towards the couch when you saw him get on the couch to climb towards you while taking a long drag of smoke. You didn’t know what his next move was and it made you curious. He grabbed your throat and bent down to kiss you roughly. Shotgunning smoke into your mouth, teeth clashing and saliva dripping from the sides. It felt as if you both were fighting for dominance but of course, he easily won and pushed his tongue into your mouth exploring it. You felt the smoke taste in the back of your throat and his glasses dug deep into your cheeks which hurt to the point that you reached towards it and pushed it over his head. He pulled away and reached for the glasses to set it down on the table next to you both before resuming with the kiss. Both your hands were now wrapped around his bloody hand that was on your throat to try and remove it. As the minutes went on, you felt the lack of oxygen in your body.

He finally lets go and you gasp trying to take in as much air as you can into your lungs. He looked at you with a smug smirk on his face as you struggled to breathe. You felt his hands reach towards your shirt and unbutton it slowly. You reached towards his zip-up hoodie and began unzipping it as your hands trembled with desperation.

He took his hoodie off and then pulled your shirt from your arms and tossed it to the side before unbuckling your bra and doing the same to it. You suddenly felt shy when you realised how naked you were compared to him. You tugged his shirt that was under the hoodie indicating that he should take it off. “What, should I be as naked as you now?” He asked teasingly. You nodded shyly, all while hiding your breasts under your arms.

He obliged accordingly, because he wanted you as badly as you wanted him. Maybe even more than you did. He grabbed your arms with one hand and pinned them above your head onto the couch before grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing it while licking the other like a hungry animal. You felt yourself become wetter, making you arch your chest towards his face, wanting more. He left little nips and hickeys across your chest and neck before moving to lick your stomach.

He let go of your hands and looked upwards at you before biting the elastic waistband of your shorts to pull it down. Your hand went onto his hand that was still on your chest, and you moved it to your nipple, wanting some more friction to try and relieve how aroused you felt.

He used his other hand to take off both your panties and shorts fully and placed his cigarette on the table next to you both. Afterwards, he settled his hands on your waist, gripping it tightly as he dipped his face down towards your heat, giving it kitten licks just to tease you. Your hand flew towards his hair to try and push his face towards you more, wanting to reach climax. He began licking you more aggressively, mouth covered in your wetness.

You couldn’t help but start rolling your hips against his face and moaning loudly as he stimulated your clit. His one hand reached downwards and circled your entrance before plunging two fingers into you. He began fucking you with his fingers that reached deep inside you. You felt yourself going lightheaded with all the stimulation that was starting to become too much. You indicated this by trying to push his face away from you.

He looked up when you began trying to push him away from you. He began getting more excited feeling you try to fight the pleasure he gave you. His hand easily took both of your hands and locked them into place like before and began kissing you making you taste yourself all while fucking you with his fingers. He felt himself growing a boner in his pants, which was starting to become bothersome because of how aroused he was. Not even seconds after he began kissing you, the climax washed over you aggressively, making you moan into the kiss.

He slowly let go of your hands and lips to examine your fucked-out face that was filled with bliss as you slowly caught your breath. He removed his fingers from you, making you shiver a bit. He then moved to unbuckle his belt and jeans. He took his belt and brought your hands together to restrain it, before flipping you over onto your stomach. “Ass up, beautiful.” He quietly spoke into your ear before biting it. You felt the pain of the bite, making you quickly obey his words.

He gave his cock a few pumps before burying himself in your wetness. He groaned in satisfaction, because believe it or not, he missed you so much, even though he would never say it to your face. You felt so full and was trying to adjust to his size after weeks of not doing it, as you both had been busy even before he went off the radar.

He began a slow pace before fastening, creating a rough rhythm, making you whine and making him moan. He reached over to the cigarette to take long drags of smoke while fucking you. After all, doing it with you was ecstasy to him because he worshiped your body like no other. While he did love you so much, he also loved to see you cry in pain.

An idea popped into his head as he was fucking you, which caught you by surprise. Your eyes widened as you felt hot circles of burn on your butt. It didn’t take you long to realise that he was putting off the cigarette on your butt. You panicked and began fumbling with his belt on your wrists. “What are you doing?” You asked hurriedly, trying to see. He chuckled and said, “What do you think?”

He then tossed the cigarette to the side before licking his hand to calm down your burn marks. You quietly sobbed as he did it because, one, it hurt and two, it felt good at the same time that you felt embarrassed. He noticed that you were crying and couldn’t help but smile. He reached to your hair and pulled your head up from it and took a good look at your face before licking your tears and peppering your face with kisses. You couldn’t help but whimper as you felt loved, how ironic. He whispered in your ear, “You know I love you, right?” You knew very well, after all, he was always loyal to you no matter how he treated you at times.

He always looked after you when you felt down about anything. Whenever a guy would even look at your way or try to approach you, he would be like a guard dog ready to fight them off. He treasured you a little too much to the point that he was scared of how possessive he felt over you. “Yes my love, I know.” You croaked out weakly but happily.

He flipped you over to admire your face while he fucked you deep. He placed a palm of his hand on your lower stomach while holding your waist so he could feel himself fuck you. This pressure pushed you over the edge making you see stars and made him groan.

After a while of doing so, he got rid of his belt on your wrists so you could reach out to him and hug him as he fucked you to reach his climax, but Seong-Je always puts your sexual needs above his and makes you reach it before him.

He kissed you as he held you close, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as your fingernails scratched his back with aggression. He locked his eyes onto yours before giving a few final thrusts which made you both reach the climax together. You couldn’t help but bite his shoulder to mask your moan as he filled you up with his cum. This made him moan and groan a little too loudly than he would’ve preferred, which you loved.

You let go of his shoulder and peppered a few kisses from his shoulder to his face while caressing it. He pulled out of you and laid beside you while breathing heavily and hugging you close to him.

You felt his heart beat loudly against his chest. At this point, you didn’t even care for an explanation as to why he gave you radio silence for longer than you would’ve liked. He was there, and you were in his arms; it was all you needed to feel all the comfort in the world.

hope you guys enjoyed this. ♡

word count: roughly 2260 words

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slaybinnie · 25 days ago

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ALLEYWAY BOY

╰┈➤ sieun x fem!reader

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), violence, explicit language, no sexual protection.

about: while at your new school, one student catches your attention. when you help him during a fight you’re welcomed into his friend group. now in university, sieun begins to open up more, emotionally and physically.

⤷ WORD COUNT: 5k

The classroom was loud with chatter as everyone waited for the teacher to arrive for the first class of the day. You had transferred to Eunjang High School just a week ago and were still trying to find your place among the complex social hierarchy.

No one really stood out except one person. You noticed him immediately. A boy sitting alone by the window, his face expressionless as he stared outside. Something about him drew you to him. While everyone else moved in groups, laughing and talking loudly, he existed in his own bubble. You had occasionally seen him hang out with three other boys but most days he was to himself.

Oh. You’re looking at Sieun?” Whispered the girl sitting next to you, catching you staring. “He doesn't talk much. He transferred a little before you. Apparently he killed someone at his old school.”

You nodded, trying to look disinterested even as your eyes kept drifting back to him.

Your chance to actually meet him came a few days later. You had stayed late at school to complete a makeup test and were walking home alone when you heard yelling in the ally way. You should’ve taken that as a sign to turn around and take a different way home but curiosity got the better of you.

You looked around the corner and saw four guys surrounding someone. When they moved around, you caught a glimpse of Sieun, standing there with the same frown on his face.

“You think just because you took down Seongje means we’re scared of you?,” one of them was said.

Sieun's voice was quiet but firm. “No.”

What happened next was so fast you barely registered it. One moment one of the guys was lunging toward Sieun and the next moment he was on the ground clutching his stomach. The others rushed in but Sieun moved with a quickness, fighting back.

In less than a minute, all of them were on the ground. The first guy Sieun took down pulled out a small knife, and that's when you gasped involuntarily. Everyone froze. Sieun's eyes snapped to where you stood, and in that moment of distraction the knife-wielder lunged. Without thinking, you shouted, “Behind you!”

Sieun dodged it just in time, the blade missing his face by inches. He grabbed the guys wrist and twisted until the knife fell to the ground.

All four boys fled and Sieun turned to you. You expected him to show anger for you interfering but his face didn’t show anything actually.

“You should go home,” he said finally. “It's not safe here.”

“You're bleeding,” you pointed out, noticing a cut on his cheek.

He touched it softly. “It's nothing.”

Instead of leaving, you dug into your bag and pulled out a packet of tissues and a small first-aid kit your mother had insisted you carry. “Let me help.”

For a long moment, he just stared at you. Then, to your surprise, he gave a single nod and leaned against the wall, allowing you to dab at the cut with a wipe.

“Why did you warn me?” he asked suddenly. “You don't even know me.”

You focused on cleaning the cut, avoiding his intense gaze. “Should I have let him stab you instead?”

He exhaled a breath. “Most people would have run away.”

“Well I didn’t want to see a fellow Eunjang student hurt,” you replied with a smile on your face.

“Yo, Sieun!” a voice called. Three boys approached, the one with a basketball jersey frowning when he saw the signs of a fight. “What happened?”

“Nothing important,” Sieun replied, straightening up.

The basketball jersey boy's eyes shifted to you, suspicious. “Who's this?”

“A classmate,” Sieun said before you could answer. “She helped.”

The introduction was short and sweet. You learned that Baku was the one with the jersey on. Junate and Gotak were the other two boys. These were the boys you had seen Sieun hang out with every now and then.

From this moment you were cautiously accepted into their friend circle. Sieun rarely spoke to you directly at first but sometimes you would catch him watching you when he thought you weren't looking.

It took months to break his walls down with you. You had slowly earned his trust and got to learn about the story behind his fighting skills and the way he kept everyone at a distance. You learned about his troubled past, his friend in the hospital, and got to know his personality more.

By the start of your senior year everything was starting to look up. Suho, Sieuns hospital friend, had woken up, Eungjang high was no longer bothered by the union and your friendship with Sieun developed into something more.

One year later and you’re all now in University. The campus coffee shop was loud with voices and machines as students rushed to grab their caffeine before afternoon classes. You sat at a corner table, textbooks spread across the surface as you tried to make sense of your class assignment.

University life had been treating you well, balancing classes with part-time work and a social life was challenging, but manageable.

Sieun hadn't changed much since high school. His face still carried that same deadpan expression, sharp eyes that softened only for you, and a quietness that intimidated most people. What did change was your goals for him and you.

Since starting university, you'd made it your mission to get more reactions out of him. It had become something of a game between you and him trying to maintain his composure while you tried your best to break it.

Sieun walked in the coffee shop, his dark hair slightly messy from the breeze outside. He looked so good. Despite being your boyfriend for almost six months now, the sight of him still made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” he said, sliding into the seat across from you. “Sorry I'm late. The professor wanted to discuss my project”

You smiled, pushing your untouched ice tea toward him. “No problem. How did it go?”

“Better than expected.” He reached for the drink, his fingers brushing against yours. Even after months of dating, these small touches still sent electricity through your body. “He thinks I might be able to submit it to receive a full ride scholarship.”

“That's amazing” Your genuine excitement made him bow his head slightly, still unused to praise despite his talents.

Sieun took a sip from your drink, using the same straw you had been using. When he realized what he'd done, a faint blush crept across his cheeks. He quickly set the drink down.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at your face.

You couldn't help but laugh. For someone who had faced the craziest situations in high school, it was interesting how flustered he could get over such small intimacies.

“Sieun…” you started, taking another sip from the same straw, “ you know sharing drinks is what couples do.”

His blush deepened. “I know that.”

“Do you?” You leaned forward, resting your chin on your palm. “Because sometimes I wonder if you remember we're dating.”

Sieun's eyes met yours, embarrassment written all over his face. “Of course I remember we’re dating.”

“Then why do you still get so flustered when I do this?” You reached across the table and gently brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. As expected, he stiffened slightly before relaxing into your touch.

“I'm not flustered,” he insisted, though the color in his cheeks said otherwise.

You laughed softly. “Sure baby.”

Honestly, you found his shy reactions adorable. Sieun had always been reserved, even after you'd started dating. Breaking through his walls had been a slow process but every small victory felt significant. You loved to see him gradually allow himself to be vulnerable with you.

“How's your assignment going?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

“It’s going horribly,” you admitted dramatically. “This subject makes no sense to me.”

Sieun scooted his chair around to sit beside you, his shoulder pressing against yours as he looked at your textbook. “Let me see.”

As he began explaining concepts you found yourself watching the movement of his lips more than listening to his words. When he paused to see if you were following, you impulsively leaned in and kissed his cheek.

He froze mid-sentence, eyes widening. “What was that for?” he asked, voice slightly cracking.

"I just wanted to kiss you,” you replied with a shrug. “Is that okay?”

Sieun swallowed hard. “Yeah... it's okay.”

You smiled and turned back to the textbook, acting as if nothing had happened, though you could feel the tension radiating from him. You had to have a nice balance with Sieun, pushing just enough to help him become comfortable with affection without overwhelming him.

For the next hour, you studied together, gradually shifting closer until your thighs touched under the table. Every so often, you would find excuses to touch him. You’d reach across to point at something in the book and let your arm rest against his. Each touch left him momentarily flustered before he composed himself again.

“We should get going,” he said, closing his textbooks and glancing at his watch. “We're supposed to meet the others for lunch in twenty minutes.”

You groaned, remembering the lunch plan. “Do we have to? I was hoping to have you to myself today.”

A small smile played on his lips. “They'll never let us hear the end of it if we bail.”

“Fine,” you sighed dramatically, gathering your books. “But you owe me.”

“Owe you what?” he asked, helping you pack up.

You leaned in close, your lips nearly brushing his ear. “Time. Just us. No interruptions.”

The blush returned full force, spreading from his neck to his ears, and you couldn't help but laugh softly. There was something addictive about making Sieun flustered.

As you walked across campus to meet your friends, your hands occasionally brushed until Sieun finally took the initiative and laced his fingers with yours. It was a small gesture, but knowing how much he disliked public displays of affection, it meant everything to you.

The campus restaurant was crowded when you arrived, but you spotted your friends immediately. Baku was gesturing wildly, telling some story that had Juntae rolling his eyes. Suho noticed you first, waving you guys over.

“Finally!” Baku exclaimed as you sat down. “We thought you two might have gotten distracted.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“We were studying,” Sieun said simply. “Unlike some people.”

Gotak laughed. “He's got you there, Baku. When's the last time you stepped foot in the library?”

“Libraries are for people who have to read to learn,” Baku said with a big grin, tapping his forehead. “Me? I just stand near smart stuff and it jumps into my brain!”

“Is that why you're failing statistics?” Juntae asked dryly making the whole table laugh,

As your friends fell into their usual banter you noticed how clam Sieun was. This friend group was good for him. Everything felt right.

“How's the new apartment?” Suho asked Sieun between bites of his lunch.

“It's alright,” Sieun replied with his typical shortness.

You rolled your eyes. “What he means is that it's great but he's still living out of boxes because he refuses to properly unpack.”

“I have a system,” Sieun defended himself.

Sieun had moved into his own place just a month ago, leaving the dormitories for a small studio apartment off-campus. You had helped him move, shocked by how few items he actually owned.

“You should see it,” you told the others. “The only decoration he has is a plant I bought him, which is somehow still alive.”

“It's just a place to sleep,” Sieun shrugged. “I don't need much.”

Baku leaned forward. “So, Y/n, how often do you stay over at this minimalist paradise?”

You kicked him under the table while Sieun suddenly became very interested in his food.

“None of your business, Humin,” you replied sassy.

The truth was, while you had been to Sieun's apartment many times, your relationship had progressed slowly in physical terms. Sieun wasn't one to rush, and you respected his pace. You were fine as long as he was by your side.

As everyone prepared to leave for afternoon classes, Suho pulled you aside briefly.

“He seems good,” he said quietly, nodding toward Sieun who was arguing with Baku about something. “More settled.”

You smiled, watching your boyfriend's rare animated expressions. “I think he is. You being here is definitely a big reason why”

“It’s not just me. It's because of you too,” Suho continued. “He was always so... contained back then. Even with me. You've given him something the rest of us couldn't.”

“What's that?”

“Permission to be a normal guy,” Suho said simply. “To care about something besides survival.”

Before you could respond, the others joined you, and the moment passed. But Suho's words stayed with you as you and Sieun split from the group to head to your next classes.

“I have to finish a lab report tonight,” Sieun said as you guys reached his next class. “But maybe after…”

“After?”

He met your eyes, something determined in his gaze. “Maybe you could come over. We could watch that movie you've been talking about.”

You smiled, knowing the invitation was not just to watch a movie, but to spend time together in his personal bubble. “I'd like that.”

For a moment, he stood there, seeming to debate something. He looked around quickly to ensure no one was watching and leaned in to kiss you briefly. Before you could react, he had already pulled away, a flush spreading across his cheekbones.

“I'll text you when I'm done,” he said rushed, then turned and walked into the building, leaving you standing there with a surprised smile.

It was 8:30 when you got the text from Sieun, "Lab done. Come over if you still want to.”

Pf, of course you still want to. You quickly washed up and headed over to his apartment, giving his door a soft knock. The door opened almost immediately, revealing Sieun in a simple black t-shirt and gray sweatpants. His hair was damp from a recent shower. He looked so handsome.

“Hi,” you said, suddenly feeling a little nervous without knowing why.

“Come in,” he replied, stepping aside to let you enter.

The apartment was indeed minimalist, just as you'd described to your friends. A bed in one corner, a small seating area with a couch and coffee table, a tv stand with a tv, a cute small kitchen, and a desk with a laptop, the plant you gave him, and neatly arranged textbooks on it.

But something was a little different. You noticed immediately that he had finally unpacked some of the boxes. A bookshelf now held his small collection of books and a few framed photos, including you in them. One of the two photos with you in them was from the end-of-year festival in high school.

“You unpacked,” you said, unable to keep the surprise from your voice.

Sieun shrugged, but you could tell he was pleased that you'd noticed. “Had some time after finishing the lab report.”

You moved to examine the photos more closely. “I can't believe you kept this,” you said, picking up the festival photo.

“It was a good day,” he said simply, coming to stand beside you.

You remembered it well. A day full of fun. The day had ended with him awkwardly asking if you wanted to “maybe go out sometime,” his confidence completely absent as he stumbled over the words.

Setting the photo down, you turned to face him. “I can put on the movie,” you said picking up his remote and turning on the TV, “but I'm also fine with just talking if you're tired.”

“I’m good with the movie,” he replied, “I made food. Nothing fancy, just ramen.”

“Fancy ramen or instant?” you asked with a smile.

“Somewhere in between.” He gestured to two bowls on the coffee table, steam still rising from them. You noticed he'd added eggs, green onions, and a few other ingredients to elevate the simple dish.

After putting the movie on you settled onto the small couch suddenly aware of how intimate the space felt. You had been here before, but something about tonight felt different. Sieun joined you on the couch, sitting close enough that your shoulders touched.

For the first twenty minutes, you both ate and watched in comfortable silence but as the main characters in the film shared their first kiss, you became hyperaware of Sieun sitting beside you.

Setting your empty bowl aside, you casually leaned into him. After a brief moment of tension, he lifted his arm and placed it around your shoulders, allowing you to rest against his chest. You could hear his heartbeat, slightly faster than normal.

“Is this okay?” you asked softly, tilting your head to look up at him.

Instead of answering, he surprised you by leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle but lingered longer than his usual hesitant kisses. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with an emotion you rarely saw him display.

“More than okay,” he finally answered, voice slightly rough.

You reached up to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertips. He remained perfectly still under your touch, watching you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“I've been thinking,” you said softly, “about us.”

“What about us?” His voice was quiet.

“About how far we've come. From that day in the alley to here.” You continued tracing patterns on his skin, moving to his neck where you could feel his pulse jumping beneath your touch. “You used to flinch when I got too close.”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “I wasn't used to it.”

“And now?” you asked.

Instead of answering with words, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his hand moving to the small of your back to pull you closer. The movie continued playing but it was completely forgotten as you lost yourself with Sieun's lips against yours.

When you finally broke apart you couldn't help but smile at the cute look on his face.

“I'm still not used to it,” he admitted quietly. “But in a different way now.”

“Explain,” you encouraged, your hand now resting on his chest.

Sieun took a moment to gather his thoughts, “Before, it was unfamiliar. A little uncomfortable. Now it's unfamiliar because it feels too good. Like I don't deserve it.”

Your heart ached at his words. Despite all your time together, parts of his past still haunted him.

“You deserve every good thing, Sieun,” you said firmly, taking his face in both hands so he couldn't look away. “Every single one.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “I'm trying to believe that.”

“Let me help you believe,” you whispered, and kissed him again.

The kiss deepened quickly, a year of careful restraint giving way to something more urgent. Sieun's arms tightened around you, pulling you practically onto his lap as his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, then your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

His usual composure was slipping, and you reveled in it, your hands sliding under his t-shirt to touch the warm skin beneath. You felt his muscles tense at the contact, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he made a low sound in the back of his throat that sent heat flooding through your body.

“Sieun,” you breathed, needing to hear his response, to know he wanted this as much as you did.

“I'm here,” he mumbled against your skin, then pulled back slightly to meet your gaze. “I'm always here with you.”

Something about those simple words, the sincerity behind them, made your heart swell. This was Sieun. He was a man of few words but had deep feelings. He expressed himself through actions rather than speech. You loved him.

Slowly you moved to straddle his lap, careful to make sure he was comfortable with your weight on him. Your eyes never left him to ensure this was okay. His hands settled on your waist, his breathing was noticeably uneven now.

“Is this too much?” you asked, knowing his boundaries had always been important to respect.

He shook his head, but still looked slightly overwhelmed. “Just give me a moment.”

You stayed still, watching the emotions play across his face. His hands tightened on your waist, then relaxed again.

“I've wanted this,” he admitted softly, the confession clearly difficult for him. “For a long time.”

“Me too,” you whispered, leaning forward to press your forehead against his again. “We can go as slow as you need.”

A small smile pulled at his lips. “We've been going slow for years.”

The observation, so accurate and yet so unexpected coming from him, made you laugh. “True. But that's okay.”

His smile widened slightly, and in that moment, he looked younger, lighter, and unburdened by the weight he always carried. You vowed to yourself to make him smile like that more often.

Sieun's hands moved from your waist to your back, pulling you closer until your chests pressed together. “Maybe,” he said, voice low, “we could go a little faster now.”

Your breath caught at his words. “I'd like that.”

Siuen grabbed your hand and dragged you towards his bed. He gently pushed you down on the bed and followed you down. He captured your lips once again and you sighed into the kiss. Your hands found their way under his shirt and traced his stomach. Sieun shivered at your touch.

You tugged at the hem of his shirt and he understood, pulling his shirt over his head. The sight of him shirtless wasn't new to you. You had seen him like this before but the context was different now. It was more intimate. Your eyes traced his chest, faint scars littered all around, reminders from his past.

Sieun watched you look at his chest, heat rising to his cheeks. “Your turn,” he said softly, his fingers playing with the edge of your top.

You sat up, allowing him to remove your shirt. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you in your bra. His hand came up to trace your face all the way down to the curve of your cup. His hand found the clasp of your bra and hesitated for just a moment until you nodded. He unfastened your bra, the straps sliding down your arms.

Your chest was bare in front of him and your nipples hardened when the cool air touched them. Sieun reached to touch your breast, gently gliding his hand against them. You couldn't help but shiver at the contact, your body responding to his exploring hands.

“You're beautiful,” he whispered.

You reached up to touch his face, drawing him back to your lips. The kiss deepened as his hand continued to caress your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple and pulling a soft moan from your throat. The sound seemed to embolden him, his movements becoming more confident.

Sieun broke the kiss and moved his head down towards your left breast. He looked up at you, making eye contact before kissing your nipple then sucking it into his mouth.

The pleasure that crashed through you was immediate and intense. Your back arched slightly, pressing your breast further into his mouth. Sieun's free hand moved to your other breast, thumbing over your nipple as his tongue swirled around your other nipple.

“Sieun,” you gasped, your fingers threading through his dark hair, holding him to you.

His mouth moved to your right breast, giving it the same attention while his hand replaced his mouth on the left.

Sieun pulled back and thumbed at your nipples to make up for his mouth moving away. He was breathing hard and his eyes were full of lust. Sieun kissed your nipples one more time before his hands moved to your waist, his fingers tracing the waistband of your pants.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed, lifting your hips to help as he carefully slid your pants down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear.

Sieun took a moment to look at you, his eyes traveling over your body with such intensity that you could almost feel it like a physical touch.

“Your turn,” you said with a small smile, copying his earlier words.

He removed his sweatpants, leaving both of you in just your underwear. The sight of him nearly took your breath away. His erection was evident and you could see a tiny bit of pre-cum seeping through his boxers.

“Sieun.”

“Hm?”

“I want your fingers so bad.” You said while grabbing his hand and placing it to where you needed him the most.

Sieun leaned in to kiss you. His hand slipped beneath your underwear and you gasped against his mouth as his fingers found you wet and waiting.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his movements slow and careful.

“More than okay,” you assured him while you guided his hand to your core.

Sieun was a quick learner. He watched your reactions carefully, noting what made your breath hitch, what made you moan. When he finally found your clit a moan was ripped out of you. “Fuck Sieun! Right there! Keep going.”

Sieun nodded, feeling emboldened by your response he grew more confident in his movements. He rubbed your swollen clit a bit faster and harder, making you squirm more and more. He lowered his head to your breast, lips closing around your nipple as his fingers worked between your legs. The dual sensation had you moaning his name, your hands tangling in his hair.

Siuen pulled off your breast and moved his fingers down towards your hole, circling your entrance. “Tell me what feels good,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving your face as he kept circling your entrance.

“Everything you're doing,” you breathed, gasping when he slowly slid a finger inside you. “Oh Sieun…”

He added another finger, stretching you gently as his thumb continued to work your sensitive bud. The dual sensation had you moaning beneath him, your hands clutching his shoulder.

“Sieun. Baby,” you gasped, “I'm close.”

“I got you,” he murmured against your skin. The tenderness in his voice combined with the movement of his fingers sent you over the edge. Your body shuddered as waves of pleasure washed over you with Sieun's name spelling out your lips.

As you came down from your high, you opened your eyes to find him watching you with a mix of awe and satisfaction. “Did I do good?”

You smiled lazily up at him, getting cuteness aggression from him wanting approval. “Of course you did, baby.”

You then reached for him, wanting to bring him the same pleasure he'd given you. Your hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, wrapping around his cock. Sieun's breath hitched, his eyes closing briefly at your touch.

“You’re so hard, baby. Did you get turned on making me feel good?”

Sieun just nodded.

You smirked, and guided him onto his back. You removed his boxers then straddled his thighs before stroking him again. His eyes never left yours as you stroked him, learning what he liked by the subtle changes in his expression, the way his breath caught, the tension in his muscles.

You pulled your hand away making Sieun whine. He quickly shut up when you leaned down and kissed his tip. You licked from his tip to his base, then backwards, teasing him before finally taking him in your mouth fully.

Sieun's head fell back against the pillow, a low groan escaping his throat. His hands hesitantly moved to your hair, not pushing or guiding, just connecting with you as you sucked him off. The sounds of soft gasps and quiet moans encouraged you to continue, taking him deeper.

“Y/n,” he breathed, his voice ragged. “That feels...ah. So good.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, the vibration making him tense beneath you. His breathing grew more erratic as you continued. It was intoxicating to see him like this.

After a few minutes, his hand tightened slightly in your hair. “Wait,” he gasped. “I'm close. I’m going to-”

You pulled back, wiping your mouth as you looked up at him. “Sorry. I want you to cum inside of me.”

Sieun’s eyes widened but he nodded, complying with anything you said. You pulled him in a heated kiss. “I’m going to ride you.. With no condom, okay?” You whispered against his lips.

“Okay.” Sieun agreed, straightening himself against the headboard.

You positioned yourself above him and lowered yourself slowly until you were stuffed with his cock. Both of you gasped at the sensation. You stayed still for a moment to adjust. Sieun's hands gripped your hips, his eyes locked on yours.

“You okay?” he asked, always concerned for your comfort even in his own pleasure.

“Perfect. You?”

“Good but, fuck. You’re so tight.”

You giggled before moving your hips up a little, careful not to pull off of him, then slammed back down his cock. The both of you moaned, Sieun moving his head into the crook of your neck.

You again started to slowly go up and down, Sieun was still hiding his face on your neck. He was biting his lips, trying to keep himself from moaning too loud. You were so tight around him, he thought he was going to die as you continued your motion on his cock.

You started to get a bit winded and Sieun noticed. Sieun surprisingly rolled you guys over and took charge, pushing into you softly. You both were close, desperation evident from the way you were whining and on the way he was sloppily rubbing your clit while thrusting.

“Sieun, I’m close. Please. Let’s cum together.”

Sieun nodded and sped up his hips, his thrusts becoming more desperate as he chased both your pleasure and his own. His fingers worked against your clit with renewed determination, his movements becoming more confident with each of your soft moans.

“Y/n,” he gasped, his voice strained. “I can't hold on much longer.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you. “Then don't,” you said, your hands gripping his shoulders. “Let go, baby.”

His rhythm faltered as he drove into you one last time, burying himself deep. You felt him pulse inside you as he came, the sensation triggering your own release. Your walls clenched around him as waves of pleasure washed over you both. Sieun's mouth found yours in a messy, passionate kiss that swallowed your cries of pleasure.

For a moment, you stayed locked together, hearts racing, bodies trembling with aftershocks. Sieun's forehead rested against yours, his breathing gradually slowing as he came down from his high. When he finally opened his eyes, they were filled with such tenderness that it made your heart ache.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

You smiled, still feeling the pleasant hum of satisfaction throughout your body. “More than okay.”

He made and a move to pull out of you but you wrapped your legs tighter around him. “No stay.”

Sieun laughed a little, “Y/n I need to clean you up. My cum is still inside you.”

You pouted, “I don’t care.”

“You’ll care when we’re getting plan b from the pharmacy,” Sieun joked.

You punched his arm jokingly while laughing, “Stop. I’m on the pill anyways.”

Sieun visibly relaxed at your words, a small smile playing on his lips. “Still I need to clean us up.”

He carefully pulled out of you and rolled you to face him. His arm draped over your waist, keeping you close as his dark eyes studied your face.

“I love you.” He said it so quietly you almost missed it.

Your heart skipped a beat. Those three words. He'd never said them before even though you’d known how he felt for a long time. Sieun showed his feelings through actions, not words, but hearing it spoken aloud made tears well in your eyes.

You tilted your head up to look at him. “I love you too. So much.” You pressed a sweet kiss to his chin “And I am so happy.”

You laid your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, occasionally stopping to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Stay the night?” he asked after a while, his voice hopeful.

“Obviously.” You replied, content.

────୨ৎ────

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to message me and request stuff! I havent written in forever but WHC woke me up from the dead. <3

#weak hero class x reader #weak hero class 1 #weak hero class 2 #yeon sieun #sieun #sieun x reader #yeon sieun x reader #whc #whc1 #whc2 #whc1 x reader #whc2 x reader #whc x reader #whc smut #weak hero class smut #kdrama imagines #kdrama smut #whc imagines #weak hero class

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anonimusunnoaniswriting · 22 days ago

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Geum Song Je X Reader | MDNI 18 + Smut, Dark Themes, Red flag (obviously, its Seong Je) Reader used to be Na Baek Jin's girl. Now he's dead. But fortunately for her Geum Seong Je is taking up his abandoned responsibilities. Including you. idk what else.

Part 2 is here | Part 3 is here

The end of Na Baek Jin would have always spelled doom for you.

Once upon a time, you had hoped that you’d have the opportunity to go back to a better life – your previous life – but that was just a pipe dream. Your previous life held a previous girl. One that didn’t exist anymore.

It had been a cold, wet day that you’d caught the eye of the young delinquent. Not particularly good at school or at sport, best at keeping your head down and managing your own affairs, he’d caught you trying to scurry past him and his gang that evening, after you’d finished up cram school; your head bowed, trying in vain to fend off the worsening drizzle. He – recognising the uniform – signalled one of his underlings to bring you to him.

Worried that he would beat you up, you had stammered out a “P-please I just want to go home. I have no money.”

The statement made the guys around you laugh.

“Money?” Na Baek Jin had asked. This upper lip twisted into a cruel smile that would send shivers down your spine. “I have—” He stopped mid way. Thought for a moment and then started again. “Well, if you can’t give me money, then I think it’s best you give me your company.” He held your chin in his hand, lifting your head blowing gently into your face.

After that, Na Baek Jin kept you by his side. He helped you with school work, resulting in your grades getting better. You left the cram school and spent every evening with him. But when it wasn’t school work – there were other things…

Baek Jin always treated you with a gentle hand. You had seen how badly those fingers could hurt and yet, they knew the other too. Soft lingering touches at your waist. Burning trails left on your sin that remained long after the two of you had parted for the day. And worst of all, a need for him that, somehow, would never be satisfied.

For Baek Jin, pleasuring you was as much of a delight as his math solutions. He’d work you for hours, slowly pumping his fingers in and out – deliberate drawn out movements – till you were no more than a dripping wet mess. Your sweet begging, calling out his name, tears dampening your lashes – it never failed to spur him on. His cold calculated moves stood out in contrast to your scorching body; leaving you gasping when he suddenly died…

***

Na Baek Jin was gone. The Union was in disarray, and the two boys, once his closest stooges, were laughing with no care for who might see.

Geum Seong Je entered the funeral room alone. Everyone else had already left, even Baku, dragged away by his friends – who tried to comfort your weeping figure but quickly gave up seeing your lack of response. Seong Je called out to your hunched over form, and kneeled down to meet your eye. You didn’t look up.

He placed a finger under your chin, lifting your head to his. His thumb brushed against your lower lip. Such a gentle touch, so much like Baek Jin. He wasn't wearing his glasses and you could see the little mole under his eye clearly.

“You’re not alone.”

You nodded your head.

“I’ll be taking over the Union. And I’m taking you with me. I know Baek Jin would have wanted the same.”

Something about the certainty in the tone of his voice made you wonder if he had orchestrated the whole thing. The fight with Eunjang, the heightening pressure. A thought crossed your mind. What if he had done it all to make sure he got that coveted spot at the top…

Seong Je lifted you off the cold floor with ease. You were carried out in his arms while wide eyed glances were ignored. The bright fluorescent lighting hurt your eyes and he encouraged your head to seek refuge in the crook of his neck. He smelled sweet. Sweat, men's deodorant, and an undercurrent of iron. You took a deep shuddering breath.

“Where are you taking me? Seong Je?”

“Home.”

The cab driver waiting outside barely spared you a second glance. Perhaps visions like this were commonplace at the exits of funeral homes. The man wouldn’t have stopped to wonder whose funeral you had been attending. Perhaps he thought Seong Je was a kind friend, or an elder brother. Someone with thoughts that were pure and wholesome. But the iron grip on your wrist as he pulled you into the makeshift bed at Daesung Motorcycles spoke differently. His chest was hot.

Hotter than Baek Jin.

Immediately you felt a pang of guilt and pulled yourself away. Seong Je’s eyes bore into you watching you fight him.

“Tsk — what, what is it? Not soft enough? Need more pillows?”

You shook your head. “Seong Je… I love Baek Jin. I– I–”

He clicked his tongue again. “Whatever you need darling. I’ve waited this long. I can wait a little more.”

You felt your heart pounding against your rib cage. “What do you mean, you’ve waited? You know I was with Baek Jin. Did you know he would die? Did you– did you–”

The man cut you off with a searing kiss. The shackle on your wrist tightened. You gasped for air but he climbed on top of you with ease. Suddenly you were all too aware of how short your skirt was, and how easy it would be for a person like him to pull off your underwear.

“Baek Jin—”

“Stop!” The sharp order overpowered your whimpers. “He’s dead! He’s not here anymore… I am.” His voice was so steady, almost reinforcing the idea in your head about the manner of your lover's death. But underneath it all you knew, there was more to it than what was visible.

Seong Je smirked and got up. "I'm not going to force you. You're gonna want me. You're gonna crave me. You're gonna beg for me." He cocked his head to the side. Almost adorably. "That'll be so much more fun."

Your eyes followed his figure as he walked to the doorway to the adjoining warehouse, and suddenly you couldn’t help yourself. “Why?”

He half turned. The lights from the street painted him in dark gold. “I’ve always imagined what you’d sound like.”

You lifted yourself off the mattress, shooting him a quizzical look.

“What you’d sound like, moaning my name.”

He left the room, you heard the click of the lock.

Sleep came to you easily, but it wasn’t restful. Your night was plagued with visions of Baek Jin’s body, lying beaten and bloodied. Alone. His black eyes seemed to be asking you for something. Help? An explanation? Revenge? You couldn’t tell…

............................................................................................................................ Part 2 is here | Part 3 is here

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iloveaustinelvisandmannymore · 1 month ago

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Don't save me.

Pairing: Geum Seongje x reader.

Summary: People told you that he was dangerous. A wild card. Not to be trusted. The redist red flag but didn't they know you're colorblind for him?

Warning: Toxic relationship, Bullying, Violence, Cheating?Arguing, Verbal abuse, Choking, Cream pie, P in v, Dirty talk, Plot with Smut?

You can't recall the last time you felt truly and undeniably happy. It has been so long since you laughed so hard that your stomach ached or smiled so broadly that your cheeks hurt. It's been a while since you experienced that exhilarating feeling of euphoria.

Middle school, you think.

Faint memories of laughter and jokes circulating, untouched lunches, and that once warm sensation. High school. Little you thought how cool and wonderful it would be.

What a load of bullshit.

A pained grunt escaped your clenched teeth as a strong kick to your stomach sent your body crashing against the steel gray lockers. Your head struck hard against the metal, and your body crumpled to the floor.

"Are you going to open that smart-ass mouth again, or should I just keep going?" Ha-yoon's makeup-caked face sneered. You didn't know why you snorted back a chuckle nor why a small, sarcastic smile had crept onto your lips.

"You think this is funny?" she screeched, her hand rearing back.

"Ha-yoon, cut it out," Eun-kyung's angelic voice said as her dark eyes finally glanced up from her manicured nails. She pushed off the wall, and Ha-yoon backed away immediately.

'Just like a loyal puppy. Obeying her Mistress's order'

Eun-Kyung sighed through her nose like she was tired of wasting her time. She squatted down, allowing her silky raven hair, which was pulled into a ponytail, to fall over her shoulder. With her elbows resting against her thighs and her cheek resting on the ball of her fist, she gazed at you with a look of boredom and disinterest.

"You're fucking pathetic when you run that mouth. It almost seems you like pissing me off." Rage flicked through her irises as she quickly grabbed your hair and slammed your head against the lockers. "Unless cunt!" She yelled and slammed your head again, harder.

Your vision blurred and your ears rang. Black surrounded the edge of your vision before you passed out. Cruel laughter and fading footsteps were the last thing you heard.

When you came too and began to walk to your small apartment, your head ached and throbbed. Despite that, it was manageable if you took some pain medicine.

You were going out with Seongje, your long-time boyfriend, at a new club with some guys from the Union and you won't let a headache and a few stupid bruises stop you from seeing him. Being with him made you feel so alive; with him, you were respected by the gang. You were Seongje's girl. And nobody was foolish enough to mess with you unless they wanted to be beaten to half to death.

Dating him wasn’t always a smooth ride. Arguments were common, and so were screaming matches. Things were thrown, and surfaces were punched, but he never hit you, nor did he aim at you. You understood he wasn’t a good person, yet he loved you in his own flawed way.

The dark club pulsed with music, and you could feel the rhythm with every step you took as Seongje led you, his arm draped casually over your shoulders. Flashing lights danced wildly around the room. Bodies moved, jumping and grinding against each other.

The group chose a round table to sit at, and soon it was cluttered with cigarette ash and empty bottles.

Sang-Ook, Dae-Ho, and Du-Ho were boys who attended the same school as Seongje and played together at Internet cafes. The twins were already drunk, laughing to themselves, and talking to Sang-Ook about which woman he was going to try to fuck and making crude jokes. Normal gross boy talk.

Seongje didn't say much; instead, he stared blankly while listening to the other boys, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close. You weren't interested in their conversation, so you simply snuggled into his side. You didn't know why he wanted to be there, but you followed him wherever he went unless it was related to gang activities.

Your eyebrows furrowed; the sudden pressure on your bladder was becoming too strong to ignore.

"Seongje," you whispered in his ear. He responded with a low hum of curiosity, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly with the sound. After a moment of hesitation, you shyly admitted that you needed to use the bathroom. Seongje chuckled, pulled out his favorite pack of cigs from his tiger-printed windbreaker, and lifted one to his lips, "Go," he ordered, nodding toward the direction of the bathroom.

"I'll be right back." You quickly got out of the booth. "Better. I don't like waiting." He lit the end of the cigarette and inhaled the gray smoke into his lungs.

You sighed in relief as you exited the stall and turned on the sink water. As you washed your hands, you remained unfazed by the sounds of the bathroom door opening and the clicking of two pairs of heels on the tiled floor. The two women giggled among themselves, and you could feel their intense stares directed at the side of your face. While drying your hands, you glanced at the wide mirrors above the sink.

A sickening dread dropped into the pit of your stomach as you caught sight of the familiar coral dye and blue highlights. Ha-yoon and Seo-Yeon.

'How were they here? Did they know you were going to be here? If they were here, doesn't that mean..'

You dared to meet Ha-yoon's gaze in the mirror. A mischievous cruelty sparkled back; she knew something, and if you didn't feel dread before, you certainly did now. Your breath quicked as you rushed out of the woman's bathroom.

You need to grab Seongje and go.

You stopped a few feet from the booth. This had to be a dream, a messed-up nightmare, but the painful shattering of your heart told you this was all happening.

Eun-kyung's honeyed giggles cut through the roaring music. Her black hair flowed over her shoulders like a river, her skimmy pastel dress fit her like a second skin and her soft pink lips curled into a flirty smile that beamed brighter than the lights that painted her and Seongje in rosy red as she idly played with his sliver chain—the chain you got him.

He simply sat there, his arm resting on the top of the booth above Eun-Kyung, his eyes intensely focused on her. His expression was unreadable, and when her beautiful eyes met his, you couldn't bear it any longer. You choked back tears as you pushed and squeezed past the people having the time of their lives.

You sniffed, your legs aching from the many rounds of walking you did in the nearby park for almost an hour. You didn't want to go home immediately; too much of him was there, from the many nights he stayed over.

You wiped the fading tears from your cheeks as you bent slightly to take off your shoes, throwing them down carelessly. Dragging your feet toward the couch, you paused and squinted your eyes. A figure was sitting there, a small red dote appeared from the darkness and the following smoke floated out in the illumination of the kitchen light. You inhale sharply and switch the living room light on.

Seongje stared at the blank TV screen for what felt like several seconds before adjusting his glasses. Slowly, he turned his head toward you, and his eyes fixed on your face. To anyone else, he appeared cool and unbothered, but you knew him better than that.

He was enraged.

"Where were you?" He leaned forward to put out his cigarette. "Why does it matter? You clearly were very busy when I came back from the bathroom." you shot back, your words sharp. He paused at your pointed response before finally extinguishing his cigarette in the wolf-shaped ashtray. "You let her..you let her touch you..and you didn't tell her to back off. Did you enjoy her company that much?" you asked, your voice breaking at the thought of the two of them together.

"You think I'd cheat on you? I may be a lot of things but a fucking cheater Isn't one of them." He spoke in a faux calm tone as he backed you into the hallway and into your bedroom.

"S-Seongje.." You warned.

"I thought My girl wasn't a dumbass." He ridiculed, a cruel smile stretching on his lips as he backed you more and more towards your bed

"Don't call me dumb! I'm not stupid! You jackass!" you snapped before letting out a surprised noise as you fell onto your bed, trying to escape from him. "Oh no, baby," he cooed mockingly. "I work with incompetent, useless punks. You're stupid if you think I would cheat on you with some one-and-million whore. Don't worry, though. I'll show you who I really belong to." Seongje shrugged off his windbreaker, letting it fall to the floor, and crept onto the bed after kicking off his pants and underwear.

You should be mad, pissed at him, shouldn't feel your treacherous cunt heat up, and gush slick but watching as he took off his shirt and threw it to the side, bare except his glasses and his chain. He was lean, and muscular in ways that counted, and his cock. His dick twitched as if sensing your admiring gaze.

He was above average length, so thick it struggled to stand up completely, and veiny. The glans was a darker shade than the rest of his skin; the slit oozed a pearl of pre-cum. And a trimmed bush around the base of his dick. His member was just as fine as him.

You happily helped him take off your clothes until you were both as naked as the day you were born. Seongje smirked smugly, the bedroom look you gave him made him want to take you right there but the urge to tease you won over. Seongje wrapped his arms around your spread legs and pulled your ass on top of his thighs. His dick slid between your folds, coating himself in your wetness, and the tip rested on your bud; he drew back and snapped forward, giving himself a pussy job.

"Just fuck me!" You cried as he continued to fuck your lips and clitoris. "I don't know. Should I?" He questioned. You cried, frustrated, and bucked your hips to try and fail to trick him inside, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I accused you of cheating. Now fuck my brains out!" You screamed; Seongje simply hummed a 'good enough,' drew back until his cock head caught on your entrance, and he rolled his hips.

You both let a groan as he pushed into your tight, wet, gummy depths. The action alone was close enough to make you cum. His cock, lay heavy on your walls, and his veins brushed against those spots until he bottomed out. You grabbed his hands that gripped your hips and threw your head back, moaning loudly as he pulled out and slammed into you, "Can't believe, you think I'd give up this pussy," He grunted, thrusting harshly, the bed banging against the back wall "this is my fucking pussy. Mine." He growled pushing his hair away from his face before grabbing your neck, his fingers squeezing the side of your throat.

You gasped and moaned as you held his wrist, your eyes rolled back, "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry-" you blabbed, drooling. Seongje laughed meanly, his eyes shined amused "Look at this. Did I already fucked my girl cockdrunk?" He released your throat and lifted your hips up more, making him reach deeper; the loud clapping of skin, the moans, groans, and cures along the embarrassing squelching of your cunted filled the room. Seongje's glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and his chain smacked against his sweat, glistening chest. Frustrated, he tore the glasses off his face, tossed them beside your head, and leaned down, his body covering yours. His large groped and knead your ass as he kissed you passionately. You wailed into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as you cummed.

Seongje pulled back, grunted as his eyes flutter shut, his hips slamming into your hips, his fast pace because sloppy as his dick twitched. He grunted one more time as his hot cum spilled into your pulsing pussy, painting you white from the inside.

"You were meant to be mine.." Seongje spoke up after you both cleaned up and laid together. Your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat lull you to sleep, "We were meant to be" he whispered into your ear, your eyes finally closing. If this was a dream from your otherwise miserable life you didn't want to wake up.

#weak hero geum seong je #weak hero class two smut #weak hero class two #weak hero kdrama #geum seongje smut #geum seong je x reader #seongje x reader

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starvrse · 5 months ago

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MARK OF POSSESSION

pairing : kang noeul x fem!reader

summary : noeul just wanted what was best for you. and what was best for you was her.

warnings : controlling nd obsessive noeul, hair pulling, choking, blood, cutting, knife, (not ina freaky way more like in a “bitch where u going” way) etc.

unnecessary bs : short story, like uhh 3.5k words

noeul knew what was best for you. It wasn’t just a belief—it was a certainty, one she clung to with an iron grip. she was convinced that no one else could give you what she could, that no one else understood you like she did. her love, her care, her unwavering devotion—these were all you needed. and she would do whatever it took to ensure you realized that, even if you didn’t see it yet.

she would weave herself into your life, gradually, gently at first, until it was impossible to imagine a day without her presence. her love wasn’t just nurturing—it was a force that suffocated, one that turned your world into a place where only noeul’s vision could thrive. every decision you made, no matter how small, would be filtered through her. it wasn’t manipulation, she would say. It was guidance. you could always rely on her to make the choices that were best for you—because she knew what those were.

when others tried to get too close, she’d subtly pull them away, perhaps with a smile, perhaps with a suggestion that wasn’t quite as innocent as it seemed. “you’re spending too much time with them,” she’d murmur. “don’t you think we’d be happier just the two of us?”

her obsession wasn’t just emotional—it was calculated. she kept track of every detail about you, cataloging your habits, preferences, fears. she understood you better than you understood yourself, and that made her indispensable. noeul had a way of making you feel special, of making you feel like no one else could care for you the way she did. but in doing so, she also made you feel small, dependent on her attention and approval. she made you believe that your happiness was her—without her, you would be lost.

she never let go. she couldn’t. she believed that if she ever lost you, she’d lose everything. and that was something she simply couldn’t allow.

the girl already felt like she’d lost so much. people had come and gone, promises had been broken, and trust had been shattered in ways she couldn’t fix. but you? you were different. you were the one thing she couldn’t bear to lose. the thought of it alone made something twist in her chest, a panic she couldn’t quiet. she had given so much to be here, to be with you, to make you see how perfect things could be if you only allowed her to take the lead. and now, now that she had you, she couldn’t risk losing you too. not after everything. not when you were the only thing left that made sense in her chaotic world. you were her last chance, the one thing that could fix everything. so if it meant controlling, guiding, helping you see that she was the best choice, then so be it. she couldn’t afford to lose you. she wouldn’t.

noeul’s smile was sweet, her voice soft, but there was an edge to it that made you hesitate. “you know i only want what’s best for you,” she’d whisper, brushing your hair out of your face with careful fingers. her touch lingered, possessive in a way you couldn’t quite name. “no one else will take care of you the way i do. no one else loves you like i do.”

and for a while, you almost believed her. almost.

“noeul,” you started, your voice barely above a murmur as you stared down at the coffee mug she had placed in front of you. “don’t you think this is… too much? the constant texts, the calls—it’s suffocating sometimes.”

her expression didn’t falter, though her eyes darkened. “too much?” she repeated, her tone laced with quiet disbelief. “i’m only looking out for you. you need someone to keep you grounded, to make sure you’re okay. you’d fall apart without me, yn. you know that.”

you flinched at her words, guilt pricking at your chest despite yourself. she always had a way of twisting things, of making you question whether you were being ungrateful for her care.

“it’s not that i don’t appreciate it, but—”

“then don’t push me away,” she interrupted, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “you don’t realize how fragile you are. how much you need me. but that’s okay. i’ll keep reminding you until you do.”

there was something suffocating about the way she looked at you, like you were the center of her world and she wouldn’t let you forget it. her love was a weight, heavy and unyielding, and no matter how much you tried to squirm away from it, it always pulled you back.

you swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the mug as you tried to meet her gaze. “noeul, i’m not fragile. i can handle myself, you know. i don’t need you to—”

“to what?” she interrupted, her tone deceptively soft, though her eyes were anything but. “to care about you? to make sure you’re safe? yn, do you hear yourself? you’re lucky to have someone like me. someone who actually gives a damn about you.”

her words stung, sharp and cutting, and for a moment, you felt the urge to apologize, to tell her she was right, even though deep down, a part of you screamed that this wasn’t normal.

you set the mug down carefully, the sound of ceramic against wood breaking the tense silence. “that’s not what i meant,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “but it’s like… you don’t trust me. you don’t give me any space.”

noeul tilted her head, her expression unreadable, though her lips curved into a small, unsettling smile. “space?” she echoed, almost amused. “is that what you think you need? space to what—hurt yourself? make bad decisions? let other people take advantage of you?”

you shook your head quickly, your heart pounding. “that’s not fair, noeul. i just want to feel like i can breathe without you hovering over me.”

her smile faded then, replaced by a look of quiet intensity that made your stomach churn. “breathe?” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “yn, you don’t understand. i’m the only reason you’re still standing. without me, you’d fall apart. you don’t know how much i’ve done for you. how much i’ve sacrificed.”

she leaned in closer, her hand reaching out to cup your cheek, her touch almost tender. “you think you need space, but you’re wrong. what you need is me. you’ll see that, eventually. even if i have to show you myself.”

the way she said it, so calm and assured, sent a shiver down your spine. you wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but the weight of her gaze pinned you in place, stealing the words from your lips. all you could do was sit there, trapped under the suffocating warmth of her affection, wondering how things had spiraled so far out of your control.

you pushed her hand away, your voice rising as the knot in your chest snapped. “noeul, you don’t get it! i’m not some fragile, helpless thing that needs you to save me all the time. i can make my own choices, live my own life! you don’t get to decide everything for me!”

her expression froze, her smile dropping as her eyes darkened, the warmth in them turning ice-cold. for a moment, she didn’t say anything, just stared at you like she was trying to decide whether you had really just said that.

“you think you can handle yourself?” she said quietly, her voice eerily calm. “that’s funny, yn. really funny. because last time i checked, you couldn’t even figure out what you wanted for lunch without my help.”

“that’s not the same thing!” you shot back, standing now, your hands shaking. “you treat me like i’m some kind of child who can’t do anything on their own! i’m tired of it, noeul. i don’t need you watching my every move!”

her jaw tightened, and for the first time, the calm facade cracked, a flicker of something raw and dangerous crossing her face. “watching your every move?” she repeated, her voice rising. “you call it that, but all i’ve ever done is take care of you. because no one else will, yn. no one else cares enough to do what i do.”

you shook your head, stepping back as her voice grew sharper, more frantic. “maybe i don’t need someone to care that much! maybe i’d be better off—”

“better off without me?” she cut you off, her voice sharp like a whip. she stood now, her presence overwhelming as she loomed closer. “don’t say that, yn. don’t you dare say that.”

you faltered, but the frustration bubbling inside of you refused to be snuffed out. “why not? it’s the truth! i feel like i can’t even breathe around you anymore, noeul. you’re always there, always controlling everything—”

“controlling?” she snapped, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and something deeper, more desperate. “you think this is control? do you have any idea what it would be like without me? you’d be lost, yn. completely, utterly lost.”

“no, i wouldn’t!” you yelled back, your heart pounding in your chest. “i’d be fine, noeul! i can live my life without you smothering me every second of the day!”

her eyes flashed, and for a moment, the room seemed to grow colder. her voice dropped, low and venomous. “you think you’d be fine? you think anyone else could handle you the way i do? you’re wrong, yn. you have no idea what’s out there. no one will ever love you the way i do. no one will ever put up with you the way i do.”

the words hit like a slap, and for a moment, you stood there in stunned silence, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. but even as the doubt crept in, you forced yourself to speak. “maybe they wouldn’t,” you said, your voice trembling but firm. “but that doesn’t mean this is okay. it doesn’t mean i have to stay.”

her face twisted, her mask of sweetness gone entirely now. she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “you’re not going anywhere, yn. you think you have a choice, but you don’t. you need me, whether you want to admit it or not. and i’ll make sure you realize that, one way or another.”

the air felt thick, suffocating, as her words hung between you. you wanted to run, to scream, to do anything—but her gaze held you captive, her obsession wrapping around you like chains you couldn’t break.

you turned on your heel, heart pounding in your chest as you made your way to the door. “i’m leaving, noeul,” you said, your voice shaking but resolute. “this isn’t love. i can’t do this anymore.”

you didn’t wait for her response, your hand already reaching for the doorknob. the thought of freedom, of finally escaping the suffocating grip she had on you, spurred you forward—until a sharp, searing pain tore through your scalp.

“you’re not going anywhere.” noeul’s voice was sharp, laced with fury as she yanked you back by your hair, forcing a cry of pain from your lips. your hand shot up instinctively, trying to pry her grip away, but her hold only tightened.

“you think you can just walk away from me?” she spat, dragging you back toward her. her other hand found your neck, her fingers pressing down hard, cutting off your air as panic flared in your chest. “after everything i’ve done for you? after everything we’ve been through?”

“n-noeul—stop,” you choked out, clawing at her hand as you struggled to breathe.

but she wasn’t listening. her face was twisted in a mix of rage and desperation, her voice rising with every word. “you’re mine, yn. do you hear me? mine. i’ve given you everything, and this is how you repay me? by trying to leave me? by abandoning me?”

tears streamed down your face as your vision blurred, your body thrashing in a desperate attempt to free yourself. “please… stop,” you gasped, your voice barely audible as the world began to fade around you.

your vision blurred, the edges of your sight fading to gray as noeul’s grip on your neck tightened. panic surged through your body as you clawed at her hands, your nails scraping against her skin, but she didn’t let go. her face was a twisted mask of fury and desperation, her voice rising above your strangled gasps.

“you’re not leaving me, yn,” she growled, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “you don’t get to leave me.”

your strength ebbed away, your limbs growing weak as darkness began to creep in from the corners of your vision. you could barely hear her words anymore, her voice muffled like it was coming from underwater. your hands slipped from her wrists, falling limp at your sides as your body betrayed you.

“you belong to me,” was the last thing you heard, her voice a venomous whisper, before the world faded to black.

the suffocating pressure on your throat was the last sensation you registered before everything disappeared, leaving you trapped in a void of silence and unconsciousness.

“you don’t get to leave me,” she hissed, her voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes. “you belong to me, yn. and if i have to hurt you to make you see that, then so be it.”

your head throbbed as you slowly regained consciousness, a dull, pounding ache radiating through your skull. the air was cold, damp, and unfamiliar, carrying a faint, metallic scent that made your stomach churn. your fingers twitched against the rough, uneven surface beneath you, and as your eyes fluttered open, the dim light of a single bulb above you cast eerie shadows across the room.

you were in a basement.

panic surged through your veins as you tried to sit up, only to feel the sharp tug of something binding your wrists behind your back. the rough texture of rope bit into your skin, and you struggled against it, the reality of your situation crashing over you like a wave.

“oh, you’re awake.”

her voice sent a chill down your spine, soft and sweet like honey, but laced with an unsettling edge that made your blood run cold. you turned your head sharply, your eyes landing on noeul as she stepped into the light, her expression calm, almost serene, but her eyes burned with an intensity that made your heart race.

“w-what… what are you doing?” you stammered, your voice hoarse and shaky as you tugged against the ropes.

she crouched down in front of you, tilting her head as she regarded you with an almost pitying smile. “you left me no choice, yn,” she said softly, her voice dripping with feigned regret. “i couldn’t let you walk away. you don’t understand how much you need me. how much i need you.”

you flinched as she reached out, her fingers brushing against your cheek in a mockery of tenderness. “but it’s okay,” she continued, her voice low and soothing, as if she were comforting a frightened child. “you’ll see soon enough. you’ll understand why this is for the best.”

“noeul, this isn’t right,” you said, your voice trembling as tears pricked at your eyes. “please, just let me go. we can talk about this—”

“no,” she interrupted sharply, her calm facade cracking for just a moment as her eyes narrowed. “you don’t get it, do you? you don’t need anyone else. you don’t need freedom. you don’t need choices. you need me.”

her voice softened again, and she leaned closer, her lips curling into a small, unsettling smile. “and now, you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again. i’ll take care of you. i’ll make sure you’re safe. even if it means keeping you here forever.”

your heart raced as her words sank in, and you struggled harder against the ropes, desperation clawing at your chest. but noeul simply watched, her smile never wavering, as if she were savoring the sight of you realizing just how trapped you were.

noeul crouched in front of you, her movements slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring its prey. the flickering light above cast shadows across her face, highlighting the sharp edge of her smile and the unsettling glint in her eyes. in her hand, you noticed something new—a knife, small and sleek, its edge catching the dim light as she twirled it absentmindedly between her fingers.

“you know,” she started softly, her voice almost a whisper as she tilted her head, studying you. “i love you, yn. more than anyone else ever could. more than you’ll ever understand.”

you froze, your breath catching in your throat as the blade glinted in her hand. every muscle in your body screamed at you to move, to run, but the ropes binding you held firm, leaving you helpless beneath her piercing gaze.

“so why,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly, as though she were on the verge of tears, “do you keep playing with me? why do you keep trying to run away? don’t you see how much this hurts me?”

she leaned in closer, the knife lowering to your thigh. your breath hitched as the cold metal pressed against your skin, just barely grazing it. her touch was delicate, almost careful, as if she didn’t want to harm you—yet.

“you make me do these things, yn,” she murmured, her tone laced with both frustration and heartbreak. the knife trailed lightly down your leg, the sensation sending a shiver through your body. “i don’t want to hurt you. i really don’t. but you leave me no choice when you act like this. when you try to leave me.”

tears burned at the corners of your eyes as you swallowed hard, your voice trembling. “noeul, please… you don’t have to do this. i—i’ll listen. just don’t—”

“don’t what?” she interrupted, her voice sharp as her eyes flicked up to meet yours. “don’t remind you who you belong to? don’t show you how much you mean to me?”

her grip on the knife tightened as she pressed it just a little harder against your skin, not enough to cut, but enough to make your heart race with fear. her other hand reached up to cup your cheek, her touch strangely tender as she leaned in, her face mere inches from yours.

“you’re mine, yn,” she whispered, her breath warm against your skin. “and no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to fight it, you’ll always be mine.”

the cold steel bit into your flesh, and a sharp, unbearable pain shot through your leg. you flinched, your eyes squeezed shut, unable to stop the tears that welled up in your eyes. “noeul! please, stop!” you cried, your voice cracking.

noeul’s eyes flickered with something dark, something possessive, as she continued. she carved her name—slowly, deliberately—into your thigh, her movements so precise, as though she was marking her territory, sealing you into her world. each stroke of the knife sent jolts of pain through your body, and you could feel the warmth of blood beginning to seep down your leg.

when she was done, noeul leaned in closer, her lips parting just slightly as she brought her tongue to the fresh cut. the contact was unexpected, soft, and disturbingly intimate as she licked the blood from your skin, her eyes never leaving yours.

“you’ll always be a part of me, yn,” she murmured, the coldness in her voice laced with twisted affection. “and i’ll always be a part of you.”

you shuddered, the feeling of her touch lingering long after she’d pulled away. the tears continued to fall, but there was no escape from her. no way to deny her hold on you.

noeul stood up slowly, her gaze never leaving yours. for a moment, she just looked at you, as if trying to savor the sight of you in this broken, vulnerable state. her expression softened, the hardness in her eyes fading into something almost tender, though it held an eerie edge.

then, without a word, she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead—light and fleeting, like a fragile promise that left you more unsettled than ever.

“i’ll be back soon,” she whispered, her voice softer now, as though trying to reassure herself.

with one last lingering glance, noeul turned and walked out of the room, her footsteps echoing in the silence. each step she took seemed to pull her further away from you, but you knew deep down she wasn’t truly leaving. she was just giving you a moment to breathe… before she came back to tighten her grip once more.

the door clicked shut behind her, but the weight of her presence remained, hanging heavy in the room like a shadow you couldn’t escape.

BOOM SHAKALAKAAA I NEED HER and let’s pretend yns cut isn’t gonna get infected..🌚 i’ll probably end up doing a part 2 w smut idk yet tho lmk if u want it🙏 and hit my ask box if u got any reqs 🥸

#starvrse #kang noeul #kang no eul #kang noeul x reader #squid game x reader #squid game #guard 011 #squid game fanfic #wlw fanfic #squid game smut #gong yoo x reader #kdrama

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freakmcnastyy · 24 days ago

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After last night

Geum Seongjae x f!reader Pt.1

Warnings: mentions of sex, smoking, one-night stand

Note: Heyyy this is my first fan fiction ever, and honestly I’m super nervous. I know Seongjae is supposed to be 17, but let’s just say he’s 18 for safety reasons. Also, English isn’t my first language, so please be kind!

-> Pt.1 / Pt.2 / Pt.3 / Pt.4 / Pt.5

⸻

This isn’t where you were supposed to end up. Not in a stranger’s bed. The club? Fine. But this? No.

How did it happen?

The last thing you remembered was a guy —glasses, orange and white jacket— buying you a drink. And now… this. You were naked, barely covered by a white blanket. Something hard was pressing against your head. You turned to your left.

There he was.

His arm was awkwardly slung under your head like he wasn’t sure how to cuddle. He reeked of smoke and alcohol. You sat up slowly, wincing. The room was a mess —your clothes, his clothes, all over the floor. Your head throbbed, your body ached, especially between your legs.

On the nightstand, you saw a wallet. You grabbed it —not to steal anything, just… curiosity.

Geum Seongjae, age 18. Just like you.

Made sense. That club was full of 17-18 year olds anyway.

You stood up as quietly as you could and started putting on your black dress from the night before. You tried to ignore the dull pain in your body, especially there. You were so focused on leaving, you didn’t notice he was awake.

He sat up in bed.

You turned —your eyes met.

All that wild energy from last night was gone. Maybe it was just the morning daze.

“Morning,” he said, grinning lazily. You felt… weird.

You were already dressed and looking around for your phone.

“Where’s my phone?” you asked.

He yawned. “If you were so eager to leave, why didn’t you just go last night?”

He got out of bed, pulling on gray sweats and a black t-shirt. Another yawn.

“Probably in the car,” he muttered, grabbing his keys from the table and walking out.

He didn’t say anything else, but you followed.

You both headed to the parking lot.

He unlocked the car and gave you a little nod.

You grabbed your phone and purse.

The back windows were still foggy. Handprints. The whole car still smelled like sex.

You tried not to think about it. You turned to leave without a word. He watched you. Longer than necessary. He was used to one-night stands. So were you.

“Wait,” he called out.

You stopped, turned.

You just wanted to go.

He smirked and walked up to you quickly.

“Last night… wasn’t bad. I’d like to do it again.”

Was he serious? Joking? You couldn’t tell.

“I don’t sleep with the same person twice,” you said flatly.

It was your way to avoid emotional attachment.

“I’ll pay you.”

That one hit different. He sounded more serious now.

You stared. “Do I look like someone who does this for money?”

“Not at all. You look pretty decent, actually. The money’s just… an offer. Take as much as you want.”

You could’ve said yes.

Easy money.

And let’s be honest—he was hot. Doing it again wouldn’t exactly be disgusting.

“I’ll think about it,” you said, swallowing your pride.

You handed him your phone to put in his number.

He chuckled.

“Already saved it last night. As ‘Wolf.’ With a black heart.”

Still grinning like an idiot.

You rolled your eyes.

You looked back at him one last time before walking away for good.

He watched you disappear, then went back inside.

The car needed cleaning anyway.

With a bunch of wipes and cleaner in hand, he came back down.

Opened the back door.

That’s when he saw it—a silver sparkle on the seat.

A necklace.

Yours.

Obvious.

He smiled again.

He’d give it back next time.

For now, he slipped it into his pocket.

#geum seong je x reader #geum seong je #geum seongjae smut #weak hero class 2 #weak hero class 2 x reader #lee jun young #weak hero x reader #wolf keum #weak hero kdrama #geum seongje scenario #seongje x reader #one night stand #slight smut #smoking

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sweetandabitspycho · 2 years ago

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Woojin x Reader

Summary:) you give Woojin a blowjob in the hospital

"Please?" Woo-Jin begged holding me tightening his hold on on me. God he just got out of surgery and yet he is horny. How? "No," I laughed trying to get off the hospital bed but he refused to let me up. "Please all you have to do is sit on my face." This shit head. "Nooo- oh." I tried to said but he flipped me so I was sitting on his chest. "He said I couldn't do anything that make me tried or exhausted and pleasing you is not that." He said kissing me. "no let me please you for once." I said moving a hand behind me; grabbing his hard on I rubbed my palm against him. "But-" he tried to talk but I stopped him. "No. You almost died. I want to do it, if you still want to eat me then you can." I said moving his pants and boxers. His cock slipped out hitting his stomach.

His tip a pretty pink color. I kiss his lips one more time before I kiss kiss his thighs. I licked the base of his cock, licking the pre cum off him. "Please take off your shirt." He said looking at me as I only licked the base of his cock. His hips bucked up a little. "If that's what you want." I said kissing his tip. I slowly lifted his shirt and took it off. His eyes stayed on my breast. I gently took him and tapped it on my chest. Light moans except his lips.

I hollowed out my checks before taking him all in. I gagged lightly as he hit the back of my throat. With my nose shoved into his hair I work my way up, as my mouth left my hand moved to where my mouth was. His hands gripping my hair. He gently push my head back down. "God you look like a goddess taking me all." He said as I sucked his tip, until he came into my mouth and I swallowed it

#hong woojin #hong woojin x reader #kdramas x reader smuts #Woojin x Reader smut #bloodhounds x reader smuts #kdramas x reader #netflix kdramas #kinktober #flufftober

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eddielove · 5 months ago

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BOOM SHAKALAKA YES GAWD YES GAWD

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fudgeez · 3 months ago

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The price of Jaeyi's Love

Synopsis: Jaeyi, after two years of intense, almost suffocating devotion to Y/N, suddenly declares that Y/N has become "boring." She breaks up with Y/N with cruel indifference, mocking Y/N's attempts to understand and even instigating subtle bullying to further distance herself. Y/N, devastated, eventually accepts the reality and tries to rebuild her life, returning to her hobbies and pre-Jaeyi routines.

However, the arrival of a friendly and vibrant transfer student named Seulgi, who immediately gravitates towards Y/N, ignites a possessive rage in Jaeyi.

masterlist

Y/N POV

I chuckled, looking at the finished hand gloves. Jaeyi always complained about being cold, so I'd crocheted them for her. Perfect timing, too—her tutoring session had just ended. I walked over, a hopeful smile on my face, and held them out to her. But something was off. Her eyes weren't warm; they were... different. Cold.

"We should break up," she said, just like that. My mouth fell open. My handmade gloves, meant as a loving gift, suddenly felt heavy and useless. "What? Jaeyi, what are you talking about?"

"We're done." Her eyes, which used to sparkle with affection, were now hard and distant.

She turned and walked away, not another word. I heard her tell her assistant, in a clipped, dismissive tone, "Have her driven home."

It wasn't a question, or even a polite request. It was an order, like I was just something to be dealt with. I stood there, stunned, the soft yarn of the gloves now feeling like a cruel joke.

The rumors started soon after Jaeyi dumped me. Cruel whispers echoed her cold dismissal, branding me with a single, cutting word: boring.

It wasn’t just the sting of rejection that hurt—it was the way she had framed me, as if our entire relationship had been nothing more than a dull, predictable mistake.

And then came the bullying.

It wasn’t random. It was calculated, deliberate. A wave of petty cruelty that felt almost personal.

It started with whispers.

"Did you hear? Jaeyi said she nearly died of boredom dating her."

"No wonder. I mean, what did she even talk about? Homework?"

"I still don’t get why Jaeyi even bothered with her. A bet, maybe?"

"More like a pity project."

I kept my head down as I walked through the hallway, but the words clung to me like static. It didn’t matter if I walked faster, if I ignored them. They followed me, weaving themselves into my thoughts like an unwanted song stuck on repeat.

At first, it was just talk. But talk turned into action.

In the cafeteria, as I carried my tray to an empty table, someone stuck out their foot. I barely had time to react before I stumbled forward, my tray tilting, food spilling onto my sweater. Laughter erupted around me.

"Oops." A girl smirked from her seat, barely looking up from her phone.

"Guess she’s as clumsy as she is boring."

"Maybe that’s why Jaeyi left—couldn’t take another second of her monotone voice."

The laughter swirled around me, sharp and cruel, digging into my skin like tiny needles. I clenched my fists, willing myself to stay still, to pretend this didn’t hurt as much as it did.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her.

Jaeyi.

She had been watching. She had seen everything—the trip, the fall, the laughter. For a split second, our eyes met. Something flickered across her face. Recognition? Guilt? I couldn’t tell. But whatever it was, it wasn’t enough to make her stay.

She turned and walked away.

Just like that.

I swallowed hard, the sting of humiliation spreading through my chest.

Kyung and Yeri were standing nearby, their laughter dying in their throats when they saw me. Their expressions shifted, guilt creeping into their eyes.

Yeri fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, avoiding my gaze, while Kyung’s smirk faltered just a little.

But neither of them said anything.

Neither of them stopped it.

Neither of them helped me.

I wasn’t just being rejected. I was being erased.

Jaeyi’s dismissal had sparked the rumors. The rumors fueled the bullying. The bullying left me isolated. And the more alone I felt, the more I believed their words.

Maybe I really was boring.

Maybe that was why Jaeyi left.

Maybe that was why no one had ever really wanted me here in the first place.

Y/N retreated, the vibrant colors of her life fading into dull gray. She sought solace in her old hobbies, sketching in her notebook, losing herself in the lines and shadows, trying to piece herself back together.

Then came Seulgi a whirlwind of sunshine and laughter.

The transfer student, with her bright eyes and infectious energy, sat beside Y/N during lunch, her presence a stark contrast to the coldness that had settled over Y/N’s life.

"Hey! Mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is packed." Seulgi’s voice was light, casual, but her smile was warm, genuine.

Y/N hesitated, glancing around. Empty seats were everywhere. Seulgi could’ve sat anywhere. Yet, she had chosen here.

"Oh, uh, sure." Y/N managed a weak smile.

Seulgi plopped down, setting her tray on the table before glancing at Y/N’s open sketchbook. Her eyes widened in admiration. "Wow, that’s amazing! You’re really talented."

A flicker of something unfamiliar pride, perhaps stirred in Y/N’s chest.

"Thanks," she murmured.

"I’m Seulgi, by the way. New here."

"I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you."

Seulgi's presence was a balm to Y/N's wounded soul. They bonded over art, music, and shared dreams. For the first time in months, Y/N felt a flicker of hope.

A comfortable silence settled between them as Y/N continued sketching. They were at Y/N’s house, lounging in her room, the dim glow of a desk lamp casting soft shadows on the walls.

Seulgi lay on her stomach, chin propped on her hand, watching Y/N curiously.

"So, Y/N…" she began, her voice casual yet laced with curiosity. "Not to be weird, but… why does Jaeyi's fans keep bullying you?"

Y/N stiffened, her pencil freezing mid-stroke.

Seulgi didn’t look away. She didn’t rush to fill the silence with forced chatter. She just waited.

Something inside Y/N cracked.

"Jaeyi… she’s my ex. We dated for two years." The words tumbled out before she could stop them. "And after she dumped me, everything changed. The rumors, the bullying it all started because of her fans."

She expected Seulgi to flinch, to awkwardly change the subject, or maybe even pretend she hadn’t heard. But Seulgi didn’t move. She just blinked.

"Well, that’s stupid. I mean, seriously? They’re that immature?" Seulgi scoffed.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. "You’re… not disgust? Or distance yourself?"

Seulgi raised an eyebrow. "Why would I?"

"Because… they might target you too. Now that we’re always together." Y/N’s voice was hesitant, her fingers tightening around her pencil.

Seulgi let out a laugh—a genuine, carefree sound. "Please, I can handle myself. And if they try anything, I’ll be protecting you too." She grinned, eyes twinkling.

"They’re just a bunch of losers, anyway."

Y/N laughed—a small, breathy sound, but real.

Meanwhile

They Didn’t Know Someone Was Listening…

Far from Y/N’s room, a phone screen flickered to life. Jaeyi’s eyes darkened as she listened to the audio playing through her earbuds.

She had planted a small recording device in Y/N’s room back when they were together, a careless impulse at the time—maybe for fun, maybe for control. Either way, after the breakup, she had forgotten about it.

Until now.

It had been weeks since she last thought about Y/N, brushing aside the guilt and discomfort with distractions. Not until, in the library, she saw something she hadn’t expected—Y/N, laughing.

With someone else.

Seulgi.

She had watched from afar as Seulgi playfully nudged Y/N, stealing her pencil, teasing her about her sketches. And Y/N… she had let her. She had smiled.

Something in Jaeyi twisted.

So when she got home, on a whim, she reactivated the old device, curiosity gnawing at her. What she didn’t expect was to hear her own name.

"Jaeyi… she’s my ex. We dated for two years. And after she dumped me, everything changed. The rumors, the bullying it all started because of her fans."

Jaeyi’s breath caught.

Y/N still talked about her.

Then came Seulgi’s voice, unwavering and filled with warmth.

"Please, I can handle myself. And if they try anything, I’ll be protecting you too."

Jaeyi’s grip on her phone tightened.

Seulgi was protecting Y/N now? Standing where Jaeyi used to stand?

A strange, unwelcome feeling crawled under her skin.

Jealousy.

Regret.

Something else she couldn’t name.

She had left Y/N behind, convinced it was the right choice. Then why did it feel like Y/N had finally found something Jaeyi had never been able to give her?

Why did it feel like Jaeyi was the one being left behind now?

And why couldn’t she stop listening?

The rooftop was quiet, save for the soft hum of the wind rustling against the railing. Y/N stood near the edge, staring out at the cityscape beyond the school grounds, her mind lost in a swirl of emotions. A lone tear traced a path down her cheek, a silent testament to the pain Jaeyi had inflicted.

"Y/N."

A voice cut through the stillness, a familiar, silken whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N turned sharply, eyes widening as she saw Jaeyi standing a few feet away, her expression unreadable. But beneath the surface, a dark current flickered, a possessive hunger that made Y/N's heart pound.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asked, her grip tightening on the rooftop railing, knuckles turning white.

Jaeyi took a slow step forward, her movements predatory.

"I miss you."

Her voice was calm, too calm, a predator lulling its prey. But there was something in her eyes something dark, possessive, desperate, a burning intensity that made Y/N want to run.

Y/N swallowed hard. "Jaeyi…"

Jaeyi’s lips parted, hesitation flickering across her face before she let out a quiet breath, a breath that seemed to carry a weight of unspoken desires. "Come back to me."

Y/N’s heart lurched, a sickening twist of fear and a ghost of longing. "What?"

"Be my girlfriend again." Jaeyi’s voice was firmer now, edged with something almost demanding, a command disguised as a plea. "I was stupid. I shouldn't have let you go."

Y/N inhaled sharply, caught between shock and something deeper something she wasn’t sure she wanted to name, a dangerous pull towards the familiar darkness.

"You—" She let out a hollow laugh, a sound devoid of joy. "You dumped me, Jaeyi. You left me. And then you let them—" Her voice cracked, a raw, exposed nerve.

"You let them tear me apart, and you did nothing."

Jaeyi flinched, but she didn’t step back. If anything, she moved closer, her eyes glittering with an obsessive light.

"I know," she admitted, her voice low and persuasive. "I know I messed up. But I can fix it. I can fix us. I can make everything like it was before. Better."

Y/N clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms. "Why now? Why come crawling back now?"

Jaeyi’s jaw tightened, a muscle twitching in her cheek. "Seulgi. She’s not right for you. She's stealing you from me."

Y/N scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "And you think you are?"

Jaeyi’s hands trembled as she reached out, her fingers just barely grazing Y/N’s wrist, a touch that sent a jolt of fear and a strange, unwelcome warmth through her.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice laced with a dangerous intensity.

"You’re mine, Y/N. You’ve always been mine."

Y/N’s breath hitched, a gasp trapped in her throat. A storm of emotions crashed inside her—pain, longing, anger, and something terrifyingly close to the love she once felt for Jaeyi, a twisted, possessive love that threatened to consume her.

Did she still want this? Did she still want her?

Before she could answer, the rooftop door burst open, shattering the tense silence.

"Y/N! I brought your favorite—"

Seulgi’s voice froze mid-sentence, the cheerful grin on her face fading as she took in the sight before her—Jaeyi standing too close, Y/N’s expression caught between conflict and distress, the air thick with unspoken tension.

A tense silence stretched between the three of them, broken only by the wind.

Jaeyi’s fingers curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms.

"Of course," she muttered under her breath, a low growl of possessive rage. "She just had to show up."

Seulgi narrowed her eyes, stepping forward without hesitation, the bag of food still clutched in her hand, a protective barrier between Y/N and Jaeyi.

"What’s going on here?" Her voice wasn’t playful this time. It was sharp, protective, a challenge.

Y/N swallowed, still reeling, but Jaeyi was the one who spoke, her eyes never leaving Y/N's.

"We’re talking." Her tone was clipped, defensive, a warning. "This doesn’t concern you."

Seulgi scoffed, her eyes flashing. "It concerns me if you’re making her uncomfortable."

Y/N felt the weight of both their gazes on her, a suffocating pressure. Jaeyi’s pleading eyes, filled with a dangerous possessiveness, Seulgi’s concerned yet firm stare, a beacon of safety.

"Y/N," Jaeyi said softly, her voice dangerously smooth, a silken threat. "Tell her. Tell her you still love me. Tell her you're mine."

Y/N’s breath caught, a wave of fear washing over her.

Seulgi shifted, her expression unreadable, a silent question. "And if she doesn’t?" she challenged, her voice low and steady.

Jaeyi didn’t look at her. She only looked at Y/N, her eyes burning with an obsessive intensity, waiting, hoping, demanding.

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut for a brief second, a desperate attempt to regain control.

"Jaeyi…" her voice wavered, a fragile whisper. "I…"

A deep inhale. A slow exhale, a moment of clarity amidst the chaos.

"I’m sorry. But i like what im a now."

Jaeyi’s face twisted—hurt, frustration, something unspoken, a dark, simmering rage.

Seulgi took another step closer, her presence grounding, a solid wall of support. "Come on, Y/N. Let’s go."

---

Jaeyi’s eyes darkened, a predatory gleam in their depths. "You can't have her Seulgi," she hissed, her voice a low, dangerous growl. "She's mine."

Jaeyi sat on the edge of Y/N’s bed, her fingers ghosting over the soft fabric of the blanket. The room smelled the same—warm, familiar, like Y/N. It felt like stepping into the past, into a time before everything fell apart.

Her eyes scanned the room, stopping when she spotted something on the shelves.

A small, wistful smile formed on her lips.

Her gifts—every little thing she had ever given Y/N—were still there. The bracelet from their first date, the stuffed bear she won for her at a festival, the keychain with their initials.

She still keeps them.

For a brief second, Jaeyi allowed herself to believe that maybe—just maybe—Y/N hadn’t truly moved on. That all of this, Seulgi included, was just a phase.

But then she saw it.

A framed picture sitting right beside the memories of them.

Y/N and Seulgi, laughing together, their arms draped over each other, faces glowing with happiness.

Jaeyi’s stomach twisted, her nails digging into her palm.

Seulgi was ruining everything.

Before she even realized what she was doing, her fingers wrapped around the frame. Her heart pounded in her ears, the sound of her own ragged breathing filling the room.

The glass cracked as she tore the picture from the frame, shredding it into pieces, her breaths coming out uneven.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "No, no, no."

She wouldn’t let this happen.

She wouldn’t let Seulgi take Y/N away from her.

Jaeyi exhaled sharply, her grip tightening on the torn scraps of the photo. She had waited too long, watched from the sidelines as Seulgi wormed her way into Y/N’s life, pretending to be her savior.

Enough was enough.

She had a plan. And that plan started tonight.

Jaeyi leaned back against the headboard, her fingers brushing over the old bracelet Y/N still kept.

A smirk played on her lips as she settled in, waiting.

Y/N would be home soon.

And this time, Jaeyi wouldn’t let her slip away.

Y/N fumbled with her keys, the events of the rooftop encounter still swirling in her mind. Seulgi's comforting presence had been a lifeline, but the echo of Jaeyi's words "You're mine." clung to her like a chilling shadow.

She pushed open the door to her room, expecting the familiar quiet, and froze.

Jaeyi was there.

She sat comfortably in Y/N’s favorite chair by the window, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. Her presence was both unsettling and commanding, like she had always belonged there.

A wave of shock, then fear, crashed over Y/N. "Jaeyi? What are you doing here?"

Jaeyi rose gracefully, a slow, knowing smile playing on her lips. "I came to see you, of course."

Before Y/N could react, Jaeyi was in front of her, closing the distance in one fluid motion. Then her lips were on hers.

The kiss was sudden, deep, and intoxicating. Jaeyi’s hands slid along Y/N’s waist, pulling her in, her touch both possessive and desperate.

Y/N stiffened at first, her mind screaming at her to stop this, to push Jaeyi away. But her body betrayed her.

The familiarity of Jaeyi’s touch, the way her lips moved with a hunger that felt all-consuming—it stirred something buried deep within.

She hesitated, caught in the heat of the moment, allowing Jaeyi to take more, to claim more.

Jaeyi smirked against her lips, sensing her surrender. Her hands explored—fingertips tracing Y/N’s spine, pressing into her hips, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Just as Y/N felt herself slipping completely into Jaeyi’s control, Jaeyi abruptly pulled away. Her eyes burned with something dark and triumphant as she stepped back, tilting her head toward the corner of the room.

"Look," she whispered, her voice disturbingly calm.

Y/N followed her gaze on Jaeyi's phone.

And froze.

A large container sat in the corner of unknown room.

Inside—bound, gagged, bruised—was Seulgi.

Y/N’s breath hitched, horror clawing at her throat. "You..." she gasped, her entire body going rigid.

Jaeyi smiled sweetly, almost mockingly. "She was getting in the way," she purred, running a lazy finger down Y/N’s arm. "But don't worry, she'll be fine. As long as you do what I say."

Y/N’s stomach twisted.

"Jaeyi, please... let her go."

Jaeyi lifted Y/N’s chin with a single finger, forcing their eyes to meet.

"Be with me," she murmured, her touch deceptively gentle.

"Be mine, like you were always meant to be. And she won’t get hurt."

Y/N’s mind spun, trapped between a terrifying ultimatum and the magnetic pull of Jaeyi’s presence. She wanted to run. She wanted to fight. But Seulgi—Seulgi was helpless, suffering because of her.

She had no choice.

A deal with the devil.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I'll do it. Just... please don't hurt her."

Jaeyi’s smile widened—a dark, victorious gleam in her eyes.

"Good girl," she murmured, leaning in for another kiss.

Y/N didn’t resist this time.

Jaeyi pushed her back until she hit the bed, guiding her down with slow, deliberate movements. Her lips moved from Y/N’s mouth to her jaw, then down to the sensitive skin of her neck, leaving a trail of possessive marks.

"You belong to me," Jaeyi whispered against her throat, her hands roaming lower, claiming every inch of Y/N as if she were already hers.

Y/N gasped, torn between the horror of the situation and the undeniable pull of Jaeyi’s touch. Every kiss, every movement, was a silent demand—give in to me, and Seulgi lives.

And so, she did.

As Jaeyi’s lips captured hers once more, Y/N let herself drown in the twisted pleasure of the moment. This was her pact, her surrender.

Her price to pay.

And Jaeyi made sure she felt every second of it.

Y/N was making a lot of noise, moaning loudly, because Jaeyi was using her tongue to give her a lot of pleasure. Jaeyi had been doing this for a while, and Y/N was very wet.

Jaeyi teased her, asking, "Do you like that? Do you really like my tongue?" Y/N couldn't answer with words, only moans. She tried to pull Jaeyi's head closer, wanting more, but Jaeyi stopped her.

Jaeyi wanted to control the situation. She wanted to make Y/N wait and enjoy every moment.

She moved her tongue in different ways, teasing Y/N and making her feel very good.

Y/N's body moved a lot because she felt so much pleasure. Jaeyi watched Y/N's face, enjoying how much power she had.

When Y/N was about to have a very strong feeling of pleasure, she made a loud cry.

Jaeyi let her enjoy that feeling, and then stopped.

Jaeyi looked up at Y/N and said, "Good girl," like she was praising her. She enjoyed having control over Y/N's pleasure.

Jaeyi watched Y/N, a predatory gleam in her eyes. Y/N was a mess, completely undone, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. Jaeyi savored the sight, the way Y/N's chest heaved with each ragged breath, the way her lips were swollen and parted, the way her eyes were glazed with a hazy satisfaction.

"You're such a mess," Jaeyi purred, her voice laced with a dark amusement. "So needy."

Y/N, still lost in the afterglow, could only whimper, a soft, pleading sound that sent a thrill through Jaeyi. She reached out, her fingers tracing the dampness at Y/N's entrance, eliciting a gasp.

"Still want more, don't you?" Jaeyi teased, her touch light and teasing. "Can't get enough, can you?"

Y/N's hips bucked involuntarily, a silent plea for more. Jaeyi chuckled, a low, throaty sound that vibrated through Y/N's core.

"Such a good girl," Jaeyi murmured, her fingers slipping inside, slowly at first, then with increasing urgency. Y/N's moans returned, louder this time, desperate and demanding. Jaeyi watched, her eyes burning with a possessive intensity, as Y/N writhed beneath her touch, completely at her mercy.

"You need me, don't you?" Jaeyi whispered, her voice a seductive poison.

"You need my touch, my control."

Y/N could only nod, her body a testament to Jaeyi's words. Jaeyi smiled, a cruel, triumphant smile. She had won. She had broken Y/N, molded her into the perfect, obedient plaything. And as Y/N's cries of pleasure filled the room, Jaeyi reveled in her victory, her heart pounding with a dark, possessive satisfaction.

821 notes · View notes

mymelllllinda · 7 days ago

Text

You Poor Thing - Han Su-Gang x F!Reader

Being a foreign exchange student in a Korean high school isn’t just hard — it feels like a cruel social experiment. I barely keep up with the lessons and I laugh too late, answer wrong, mispronounce things so often I’ve stopped flinching when someone snorts. But none of that compares to Han Su-Gang.

cw : dark!su-gang (if that's possible) , noncon/dubcon, slapping, sexual harassment, hair pulling, gaslighting, bulling, blackmail, pictures taken without permission, breaking & entering, stalking and a bit angst.

word count : 10k (my first 10k fic & it took me a week to finish it)

This was requested.

The classroom door slams shut behind me, and thirty heads swivel like they’re synced, eyes slicing into me like scalpels. Every morning, it’s the same walking into this sterile, chalk-dusted hell with my back straight and jaw tight, pretending I don’t hear the whispers or see the smirks. Pretending I’m not completely drowning.

Being a foreign exchange student in a Korean high school isn’t just hard it feels like a cruel social experiment. I barely keep up with the lessons, get lost in half the conversations, always translating words in my head while everyone else is two steps ahead. I laugh too late, answer wrong, mispronounce things so often I’ve stopped flinching when someone snorts.

But none of that compares to Han Su-Gang.

That smug bastard.

From the day I transferred, he zeroed in on me like he was hunting something. Not with fists or open mockery that’d be too easy. No. Su-Gang prefers a slower, sharper game. Smirks. Whispers. Brushing past me just a little too close in the hallway. That slow, lazy drawl when he says my name, like he's tasting it, and he knows exactly what it does to me.

“Yah,” his voice purrs behind me now low, teasing. “Why so stiff today?”

I don’t need to look. I can smell him cologne sharp and expensive and feel the heat of his body as he moves closer. His presence wraps around me like static before I even turn.

I don’t turn.

I keep my eyes locked on the blackboard, pretending I understand a single thing scrawled across it. Pretending I don’t feel his breath brush my ear as he leans in, close enough to cross lines no one else dares to.

“You get lost again on the way to class?” he murmurs. “Or just hoping someone would come find you?”

My fingers tighten around my pen until it creaks.

He laughs softly in a mock-innocent. “aigoo, don’t look so tense. I’m just being friendly.”

Friendly. Right.

Han Su-Gang doesn’t know the meaning of the word.

He drops back down into the seat behind me, just like he always does, and taps the back of my chair with his shoe. Light. Deliberate. A signal. A warning. Or maybe just a reminder.

That I’m not invisible here.

Not when I’m Su-Gang’s favorite target.

And the day hasn’t even started yet.

Throughout class, he keeps playing with my hair.

It starts subtle a light tug on a loose strand when the teacher isn’t looking, like he’s testing how close he can get before I react. Fingers brushing the ends, slow and deliberate, until I can’t focus on a single word being written on the board. My scalp tingles, nerves stretched thin. I grit my teeth and ignore him. Pretend I don’t feel it. Pretend I’m not about two seconds away from snapping.

He’s behind me, so I can’t see his face but I feel it. The smirk. The quiet satisfaction in every tiny invasion. No one else seems to notice. Or maybe they do, and they’re just too smart to get involved.

I sit perfectly still, heart pounding under my uniform shirt, jaw locked so tight it aches. If I move, he wins. If I say anything, he gets what he wants. I just need to survive until the bell.

And then, finally, it rings and I’m on my feet before the last echo dies. My bag's already slung over my shoulder, my heart pounding with the relief of escape. I just need to get out of this room and away from his stare, his voice, his everything.

“Oh? Where you going? Running away like a scared little bitch?”

Su-Gang’s voice slices down the hallway just as I turn the corner. Like he didn’t make the last hour unbearable. My pulse kicks up again, thudding in my ears. I keep walking. Fast. I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking back.

I’m already late for my next class Mrs. So’s.

A new teacher. Young. Fresh out of university or something. I haven’t even spoken to her yet, and now I’m about to barge in late on her first day seeing me. Perfect. Just perfect.

I reach the door and shove it open, breath still uneven. Everyone inside turns toward me like I’ve interrupted a sermon. I drop my gaze immediately and mumble, “Sorry.” My voice is barely above a whisper. Mrs. So nods politely, says nothing, and gestures for me to take a seat.

I head straight to the back. Far corner. I sit down, still feeling the heat in my face, still trying to calm the rush in my chest. But less than a minute later, the classroom door bursts open like it’s been kicked in.

Su-Gang strolls in.

And he’s not alone. His little entourage files in behind him, laughing like they own the place. One of them bumps into a desk on purpose. Another whistles, obnoxious and loud. It’s a whole show.

Mrs. So straightens up behind her desk. “Excuse me. You’re late. What do you think you’re doing?” Su-Gang doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink. He just keeps walking, hands in his pockets, shoulders loose and cocky like nothing in this room not even the teacher matters. His eyes flick lazily across the students until they find me.

And lock. My stomach knots.

“We got a little held up,” he says smoothly, mouth curling into that too-slick smile. “Sorry we missed your big debut, seonsaengnim.”

A few students laugh under their breath. Mrs. So opens her mouth, probably ready to call him out but then she hesitates. Just like the other teachers. Just like everyone else. One look at Su-Gang and suddenly nobody wants to push.

“Take your seat,” she says finally, voice clipped.

He does.

And as he moves past desks, his eyes never leave me. Not for a second. Like I’m some unfinished thought he plans to come back to.

He drops into the seat one row over, diagonal from mine. Close enough to see everything. Close enough that I can feel it again that pressure. Like a spider watching a fly settle into its web. The corner of his mouth twitches, and I can’t tell if he’s smiling or sizing me up.

Probably both. I shift in my chair and glance away, heart pounding so loud it’s hard to hear Mrs. So start the lesson. I feel his gaze crawling along my skin, patient, hungry, like he knows he has all the time in the world.

And worst of all? No one else seems to notice.

About halfway through the lesson, something lands on my desk.

A folded piece of paper.

I don’t need to look to know who it’s from. I feel his eyes on me before I even touch it, like a heat source pressed against my side. I hesitate for a second. Then I unfold it under the desk, keeping it hidden behind my textbook.

"Detention room. After school. You better be there."

Nothing else. No smiley face. No signature. Just instructions, written in a sharp, aggressive scrawl. My throat tightens. I stare at the words. My skin feels clammy. My fingers twitch like they want to tear the note in half, but I don’t. Not while he’s watching.

So I do the only thing I can.

I nod. Just once. Subtle. Barely a movement. And that makes him smile.

The rest of the class passes in a haze. I pretend to listen, nod at the right moments, even force myself to write something down. But I’m not really here. My mind’s racing too fast. I keep thinking about the way he looked at me earlier. Like he was already imagining something I haven’t agreed to. Like he was building a scene in his head, and I didn’t even have a say in it.

When the bell rings, I stand up fast and slip out with the crowd before he can corner me. I don’t look back. I don’t go to the detention room. I don’t even pretend to head that way.

Instead, I make a sharp turn down the back hallway, heart hammering. Past the supply closets. Past the broken lockers no one uses. Toward the back exit with the crooked fire door that barely latches. I push it open. It groans like it hasn’t moved in weeks.

Outside.

I don’t stop. I don’t check my phone. I don’t breathe until I’m three blocks from the school and halfway down a side street that leads to the convenient store. I think I made it. I think I actually got away.

But what I don’t know. What I don’t see is Su-Gang standing at the second-floor window above the back lot. Watching. He saw me slip out. He watched the whole thing. His smile is gone.

Replaced by something flat and cold. His hands rest on the windowsill, fingers tapping slowly. Rhythmically. Like he’s counting seconds or imagining someone’s neck. He stays like that for a long time, even after I’m out of sight.

When one of his friends finally finds him, laughs, asks, “Yo, she stood you up or what?” Su-Gang doesn’t turn around. He just mutters, voice low and terrifyingly calm, “She thinks she’s clever.” Then silence. A long beat.

And then, quietly

“I’ll show her what clever looks like.”

The next morning, I walk through the front gates like nothing happened. Like I didn’t run. Like I didn’t leave him standing there with a note and a plan and no one to play his little game with.

I keep my back straight. Shoulders loose. Head held just high enough to seem unbothered. My heart’s still thudding a little too fast, but I’ve trained my face into something blank. Unreadable. I even fake a yawn, just for show. If I look scared, I lose. And I can’t lose.

The halls are already crowded. Noise bouncing off the lockers. Shoes squeaking. Teachers barking half-hearted warnings about morning assembly. I focus on the stairs ahead, textbook clutched to my chest like a shield.

I almost believe I’ve pulled it off. That maybe, just maybe, he’ll let it go. Then I feel it.

A hand slams into the back of my head, fingers curling tight into my hair, yanking it back so hard my knees nearly buckle. The scream gets caught in my throat. The hallway tilts as I’m dragged backward, spine arching, the world spinning in a blur of color and confusion. People stop. Some gasp. Some just stare.

But no one moves.

“Think you’re smart?” Su-Gang snarls above me, voice right at my ear, rough and wild and nothing like the lazy, teasing tone he always uses. “You think you can run from me?”

His hand twists deeper into my hair, roots screaming. My scalp burns, eyes watering. My hands shoot up to grab his wrist, but his grip is iron.

He jerks me sideways, pulling me into the middle of the hallway. I stumble after him, dragged like a puppet, books scattering to the floor. Everyone’s frozen, too stunned to even blink.

My shoes skid uselessly on the polished tile.

“Su-Gang, what the hell!” someone calls out a teacher maybe but it’s distant, foggy, like it’s coming through water. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t look back. He pulls me past classroom doors, past staring students, past lockers slamming shut.

“Was it funny?” he growls, low and vicious. “Running like that? You think that was clever? You think I wouldn’t see you?”

I can’t even speak. My scalp is on fire, my breath short and sharp. “Let me go,” I manage through clenched teeth, but it comes out weak. Pathetic. And he laughs.

That soft, familiar laugh except now it’s twisted. Unhinged. “I told you to come,” he hisses. “I asked nicely. But you want to act like I’m some joke?”

His grip tightens. My neck jolts back.

A classroom door swings open down the hall. Another teacher steps out, voice raised in alarm, but I don’t catch the words. Su-Gang finally slows, turns slightly, still holding me by the hair. And smiles.

Right at the teacher. Polite. Then says, smooth as ice, “Just having a talk. She doesn’t mind.” The teacher hesitates. Looks at me. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

Su-Gang leans in. “You say one word,” he whispers, lips brushing my ear, “and I’ll make sure you really have something to run from next time.” The teacher backs off. Just like that.

He lets go of my hair like he’s finished playing with a toy he’s grown bored of. My knees nearly give out, but I catch myself, heart pounding so hard I can hear it behind my ears.

He doesn't even look at me when he says, “Follow me.” Just two words. But they hit like a blade. I don’t move

Students linger around him, watching with amusement, like they’re waiting to see if I’ll disobey. No one laughs, though. Not now. The air feels wrong. Dense.

He turns his head slightly, just enough for me to see the edge of his smirk. There’s no threat in his voice. There doesn’t have to be. We both know what happens if I say no. So I follow. Up the stairs. Out of sight.

Through the metal door that groans open at the top of the building and closes behind us with a thick, final thud. The rooftop stretches out around us, windless and empty. Concrete walls on all sides. The city below hums, oblivious. The sky is pale, sun bleeding through the clouds, too bright and too cold at once.

His friends are already here. Lounging. Laughing. Scrolling through their phones like this is just another break between classes. And I’m just standing there. Stiff. Out of place. Out of air.

Su-Gang sits on a ledge like he owns the building. He pulls a lighter from his pocket, flicks it on and off, even though there’s nothing to light. Just for the sound. The flash. The rhythm.

He doesn’t look at me for a while. Then he does. His eyes drag over me, slow and invasive. I cross my arms. Big mistake.

He tilts his head and finally says, “Unbutton your shirt.”

I stared at him like he grown two heads. The rooftop drops silent. He stares at me, waiting.

There’s no smirk now. Just that cold patience. Like he’s giving me a test he already knows I’ll fail. “I’m not—” My voice catches. “I’m not doing that.”

His tongue clicks. Then he stands. Slowly. Like he’s tired of repeating himself.

“I said,” he murmurs, “unbutton your shirt.” I take a step back.

One of the others stands too. Just the sound of his shoes scraping the ground makes my spine lock. I glance at the rooftop door behind me. It’s so far.

Su-Gang walks toward me, and I can’t help it I flinch. His expression twists with delight. Something ugly. “You’re scared again,” he says, voice soft like a lover’s. “I like you best like this.”

He stops right in front of me. Reaches out. His fingers skim the first button of my shirt. I slap his hand away without thinking. Silence. His friends shift. One lets out a low whistle. But no one steps in.

His smile doesn’t fade, but something behind it changes. His eyes narrow. Like he’s finally decided I’m not playing the part he wants. Then his hand moves.

Fast.

A crack slices through the air before I even register what’s happening.

Pain explodes across my cheek. My head snaps to the side. My breath catches. My vision blurs for a second, white-hot and stunned.

The sound of it echoes, not just in my ears but deep inside me, like the world just tilted wrong. I don’t fall, but I stagger, one foot dragging against the rooftop concrete. My hand flies to my face, clutching the sting. My skin throbs under my palm, pulsing where his knuckles landed. Warm. Humiliated. Tears well up immediately.

I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek to hold them back, jaw trembling with the effort not to break. Not in front of him. He just watches me. Detached. Like he’s studying his own reflection.

His smile returns, slow and sharp, like the sting on my cheek isn’t even real to him. “Maybe now,” he says softly, voice thick with something darker than anger, “you’ll listen when I tell you to do something.” Then his eyes flickersomething glinting behind them.

Excitement.

“You’ve got a little fight in you today,” he murmurs, stepping closer, gaze dragging over me. “Good. That makes it more fun.”I can’t breathe.

This isn’t just teasing anymore. This is a game I never agreed to play and I already know how it ends. Badly for me.

Su-Gang doesn’t say anything at first. He just looks down at me, hand returning to the first button on my shirt. And then He starts to unbutton them. One. Two.

My whole body is stilled, blood screaming in my ears. I feel the cool air touch my skin, inch by inch, and all I can do is stare at the concrete behind him and try not to collapse. He leans in, breath hot on my cheek. “You know,” he murmurs, “if you wanted attention, you could’ve just asked. Acting like you’re so shy, but look at you.”

Three.

His fingers brush the fabric. Slow. Calculated. “Underneath all that pretending,” he says, “I bet you like being watched. I bet you're getting off on this, aren't you?” My hands shake. My nails dig into my palms. I don’t cry. I won’t. But then he reaches the last button. And just as his fingers graze it—

The rooftop door slams open.

“Han Su-Gang!”

The voice cuts through the air like a bullet. He pauses. We both turn.

Mrs. So storms across the rooftop, her heels loud and sharp against the concrete. Her face is pale with fury. Her eyes aren’t wide with fear they’re narrowed with rage. Su-Gang’s hand drops casually from my shirt.

I clutch the fabric, step back, hunch in on myself like I can disappear. Mrs. So stops just a few feet from us. The wind is louder now. Or maybe it’s just the blood rushing through my head. “What the hell are you doing?” she demands, voice rising. “What do you think this is?”

Su-Gang just smiles. That empty, shark-eyed smile. “Teacher,” he says smoothly. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“You had her cornered. You had your hands on her shirt—”

He shrugs, all fake innocence. “She came up here on her own. Ask her.” His friends shift awkwardly behind him, but no one speaks.

Mrs. So doesn’t buy a second of it. “You think you can get away with everything because you’re rich and no one’s ever held you accountable?”

Su-Gang’s smile slips slightly. “You’re not special,” she spits. “You’re just a coward who picks on people weaker than you.”

The rooftop is dead silent. I stare at her…this stranger who just walked into hell without hesitation. I feel my knees buckle. She sees it.

“Come here,” she says to me, gentle now. “Come stand behind me.”

I do. I move like a ghost and stand behind her like she’s a wall between me and something feral. Su-Gang’s voice comes low, mocking. “Getting involved, huh? Bad idea.”

She doesn’t flinch. “You want to hit me?” she says, eyes locked with his. “Go ahead. You think I’m scared of someone like you?” His hand clenches once. Then he turns away. But something in his smile before he walks off—too slow, too deliberate—tells me this isn’t over.

Not even close.

I don’t remember getting back inside. One second, I’m on the rooftop with Su-Gang’s breath still hot in my ear. The next, I’m sitting on a chair in an empty classroom, the door closed, the windows dim with late-afternoon light.

My face still stings. Every heartbeat pulses in the bruise spreading under my skin. Mrs. So sits in the chair across from me, hands folded tightly in her lap. She’s silent for a long time. Watching me. Not like she’s waiting for me to speak like she’s trying to decide if she should.

I keep my eyes on the floor. The tile is cracked near the edge of my shoe. I focus on that. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” she finally asks, voice low, careful. I shake my head. I want to. I need to. But the words stay trapped in my throat. Like if I say them out loud, it’ll make everything real again.

She doesn’t push. “I saw enough,” she says. “You don’t have to explain it to me.” I blink hard. My throat burns. She exhales, rubbing her thumb against her palm like she’s working something out.

“That boy… Han Su-Gang,” she says. “He’s not just acting out. He’s dangerous.”

That word. Dangerous. No one’s said it before. Not out loud. She looks at me then. Really looks. Her eyes are softer now. But there’s steel under them. “Has he done this before?” she asks. “Or something worse?”

I nod. Barely. She swallows. Her expression tightens. “I need to report this,” she says. “He can’t keep doing this to you. Or anyone.” Panic spikes in my chest. “No.” The word slips out before I can stop it. My voice sounds too loud in the still room. “Please don’t.”

She frowns. “Why?”

I can’t explain it. Not properly. Not the looks in the hallways. The silence of the other teachers. The way Su-Gang moves through the school like he’s already untouchable. Like the building bends around him. She sees my hesitation and her voice softens again. “I’m not asking you to stand in front of everyone,” she says. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’ll handle it. I’ll keep your name out of it.”

I want to believe her. But I can still feel the ghost of his fingers at my throat. Still hear the way he said my name like it was already his. “He’ll come after me again,” I whisper. She doesn’t lie to me. She just says, “Then he’ll have to go through me first.”

I try to get through the rest of the day like it didn’t happen. Like he didn’t drag me by the hair throughout the hallway. Like I didn’t see something dead behind his eyes when I said no.

Su-Gang doesn’t speak to me for the rest of the day. Doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t even breathe in my direction. And somehow, that’s worse. The silence isn’t peace. It’s a setup.

I skip lunch again. My stomach’s empty, but my nerves are too twisted to eat. I spend the break in the art room alone, pretending to look at student drawings while my brain replays every second on that rooftop in perfect detail.

I don’t go straight home after school. I take the long way side roads and alleys, avoiding the main streets, just in case. By the time I duck into the convenience store, the sun’s already sinking. The fluorescent lights buzz softly overhead. The warm, artificial air hits me like a blanket.

Normal. Safe. Or close enough. I grab a ramen cup and a drink. Something to pretend I’m okay. Something to keep my hands busy.

I sit by the window in the front corner and peel back the lid. Steam curls up. I wrap my hands around the cup and try to breathe. Outside, the street looks dull, quiet. Almost peaceful.

Until the glass fogs. Not from the ramen. But from A breath.

I was transfixed, unable to move.

A slow, deliberate smiley face forms on the glass right in front of me. Drawn with a fingertip. Then a second line. A heart. And behind the smiley face, Su-Gang’s reflection appears.

Smiling, his tongue slid out slowly, tracing his lips like he was savoring a taste no one else knew. His smile that didn’t reach his eyes that only made your skin crawl.

He exhales again. The glass fogs deeper. The heart glows faint in the low light. He’s not even trying to hide that it’s him. The bell above the door jingles. He steps inside. But he’s not alone. Two of his friends follow, laughing at something he said before the door even shut. He doesn’t grab snacks. Doesn’t say hi to the clerk. He walks straight back and drops into the chair across from mine like we’re meeting for coffee.

“You always run here after school?” he asks. “I was curious.”

I look down fast, pretending I couldn’t hear him. Pretending I can make him disappear by not reacting.

He looks at me like he’s trying to decide what he wants to do with me. Then, without a word, he grabs my wrist. “Come here,” he says, voice low and too casual. I try to pull back, but he’s already moving. In one motion pulls me into his lap.

I gasp.

He wraps one arm around my waist, the other resting across my thigh, holding me there like I belong to him. My hands go stiff, hovering in the air, unsure whether to fight or freeze.

“Relax,” he says, brushing his cheek against mine. “I missed you.”

He presses a kiss to my cheek. Lingering. Like he’s daring me to scream. “You’re soft,” he murmurs near my ear. “I could get used to this.” I want to throw up. I want to disappear. I finally jerk, trying to stand.

His grip tightens.

He chuckles softly. “Don’t be like that. I came here to talk.”

“Let me go,” I whisper. “No,” he says, simply. “Not until you answer a question.” He shifts, letting me face him in his lap, his hands locked on my hips. His eyes narrow slightly. “What did you tell Mrs. So?” My stomach drops. “I—nothing,” I say.

He tilts his head, mouth curling slightly. “You sure?” he asks. “Because if I find out you’ve been running your mouth…” His smile vanishes. “…I’ll make sure you regret it.”

His hand slides slowly up my back, resting between my shoulder blades, just enough to make my whole body go rigid. “You wouldn’t want me to get upset,” he says. “Not when we’re just starting to get along.”

“I didn’t say anything,” I repeat, this time louder, trying to keep my voice steady.

He studies my face like he’s trying to peel it open.

Then, slowly, he smiles again. “Good girl.”

The bell rings.

Another customer walks in. Su-Gang finally loosens his grip, easing me off his lap like he’s letting me go because he chooses to, not because I asked. He stands, straightens his shirt, and leans down to whisper in my ear one last time.

“You’re lucky I like you. Anyone else would’ve already been dead.” Then he walks out. Leaving me there. Shaking. Humiliated. Half of my ramen spilled on the table. I sit there, chest heaving, hands trembling, the taste of his breath still on my skin.

And I know—This is possession.

And he’s just getting started.

It takes me seven days to say something. Not because I’m unsure, or confused, or trying to convince myself it wasn’t as bad as it felt—it was—but because I already know how these things go. I know the shape of silence. I know the sound of disbelief.

Still, on the seventh day, I stay behind after class. I wait until the room empties out, until Mrs. So is gathering her papers and glancing at the clock like she has somewhere else to be. I tell her everything.

Slowly, carefully, like walking barefoot through glass. The rooftop. The convenience store. The way he touched me. The way he looked at me. The way he follows me, like a shadow with a mouth and hands. She listens. Her expression hardens, just a flicker, like a spark trying to catch flame. She says it’s wrong.

That it’s serious. That she’ll go to the principal and take it from here. That I’ve done the right thing.

The next morning I get called to the office. It’s too bright in there, sterile and quiet in a way that feels rehearsed. The principal doesn’t meet my eyes. He speaks in that calm, measured tone that sounds like it was written for a press release. Han Su-Gang is a respected student. His family supports the school. There’s no evidence of misconduct. I should be careful, he says. Careful with words, careful with accusations. I sit there, hands locked in my lap, trying to breathe evenly, trying not to fall apart in front of him. Because I already know what’s happening. It’s not justice.

And when I step out into the hall, he’s there. Su-Gang. Leaning against the opposite wall, phone in hand, like he’s been waiting for the verdict he knew would come. His eyes flick up and land on mine. He smiles. A small, smug thing, like he’s already won. Like he never doubted it.

After that, the story spreads—warped, twisted, gutted of the truth. Apparently I came on to him. Apparently I made it up. That I wanted his attention, then got bitter when I couldn’t handle it. Some girls laugh. Others look through me. No one asks what really happened. Not one. Even the teachers seem to look past me now, like I’ve become something inconvenient. A problem that won't go away.

And Su-Gang? He doesn’t even bother hiding anymore. He waits for me after school, half a block down, just far enough to say he wasn’t following. He sits outside stores I duck into. He shows up on streets I don’t remember telling anyone I walk down. Sometimes I take random turns, double back, change my route. It doesn’t matter. He’s always nearby. Close enough to see me flinch. Far enough that I can’t scream without sounding crazy.

At night, I stop turning on music. I keep my curtains closed. I check the lock on my window twice, then again. The smallest sound makes my heart race. A knock, a phone buzz, footsteps in the stairwell. I don’t sleep. Not really. I just lie there, listening, waiting for something to happen. Something worse.

I try again. I tell a different teacher. She gives me that look—soft eyes, tight smile—that says she believes me and still won’t do a thing. I go to the school counselor. She asks if maybe I’ve misunderstood, if maybe he’s just struggling to express himself. I try a friend. She pulls away mid-sentence, says her parents know his family, says she doesn’t want to get involved.

And slowly, the air changes. People stop looking at me. Or they only look to see if I’ll break. Every hallway feels longer now. Every classroom colder. And the worst part isn’t the fear—not even the moments when I feel his eyes on me and know I’m not imagining it.

I was so stressed out that I didn’t even notice my apartment door was open. I came inside, took off my shoes out of habit, then headed straight to the kitchen. I opened the fridge to grab a bottle of water, and when I turned around, Su-Gang was standing right behind me—with that terrifying smile and the deranged look in his eyes. The sight of him hit me like a weight, pressing down on my chest, stealing the air from my lungs.

I don’t scream. I can’t. My voice dies in my throat before it even forms. My fingers go limp and the bottle of water slips from my hand, hitting the floor with a soft thud that sounds too loud in the silence between us. He doesn’t flinch. He just watches me.

I stagger back, my spine hitting the edge of the counter, but I don’t feel it. I’m too focused on him. On the way his pupils look too wide. On the twitch in his jaw. On that smile—too calm, too pleased, like this moment is everything he’s been waiting for.

“Cozy,” he says finally, looking around my apartment like he’s at an open house. His voice is soft, amused. Like this is funny. Like I’m funny. “Smells like you.”

"Did you miss me?" he asks, voice light, almost playful. But there's something in it like broken glass hidden in sugar.

I say nothing. I can’t. My tongue is dry, glued to the roof of my mouth. My limbs won’t listen to me. All I can do is stand there, shaking, stupidly barefoot, defenseless.

“I was going to wait outside,” he goes on, stepping closer, slow and casual, like we’re sharing a joke. “But I got bored. You took too long.”

He’s between me and the door now.

He tilts his head, eyes flicking over me in that slow, devouring way that makes my skin crawl. “I thought we could talk. Just us. No interruptions this time.”

“What do you want?” I finally manage to whisper. My voice doesn’t sound like mine. It sounds small. Weak. And I hate that he hears it that way.

His smile grows. “You know what I want.”

He moves again, and instinctively I reach for something—anything—my phone, a knife, I don’t even know. But his hand is suddenly on my wrist, fast and hard, and I cry out without meaning to. He squeezes, just enough to make his point.

“Don’t,” he says quietly. “I’m being nice right now.”

My knees threaten to give. He’s too close. I can smell the familiar, expensive cologne he always wears. I can feel the heat of him, radiating off his body like an open flame. It’s worse up close—worse than anything in the hallway or the rooftop or the store. Because now there’s no one else. No distant teacher. No student who might glance over. No fluorescent lights. Just me and him.

He steps closer

“You’ve been ignoring me,” he says, tilting his head slightly, like he’s studying a bug under glass. “After everything we’ve been through.”

“I told you to leave me alone,” I whisper, but it comes out too thin. Too fragile.

He laughs softly, shaking his head like I’m the one being ridiculous. “You don’t get it, do you? I didn’t come here to hurt you,” he says, taking another step forward. “I came here because I care.”

His hand lifts, slow and deliberate, like he’s about to touch me again. I flinch before he even makes contact. His smile widens.

"You’re so tense,” he murmurs, his voice dropping, more breath than sound. “It’s kind of cute." My stomach twists.

He’s too close now. The counter's at my back. The doorway's blocked. My apartment feels smaller than it ever has. Like the walls are leaning in, like the lights are dimming even though nothing’s changed.

"Don’t do this," I manage, my voice breaking. "Please."

"Do what?" he says, mock-offended. "I’m not doing anything. I’m just talking to you. Spending time together. Isn’t that what you wanted?"

I shake my head. “No.”

His expression darkens just slightly. Like the mask slips for a second and something uglier pushes through.

"Then why’d you talk to Mrs. So?"

My breath catches.

"You think I wouldn’t find out?"

I don't answer.

“I told you not to say anything,” he whispers, and this time, the calm is gone. His voice has teeth now. “You lied to my face. That’s not smart.”

He leans in until I can feel his breath on my cheek.

“I could hurt you,” he says softly, almost lovingly. “Right now. And no one would stop me. No one would care.”

He says it like a fact. Not a threat. Like he’s just stating the weather. Like he’s tested the world already and knows exactly how far it will bend for him.

I don’t move. I don’t breathe.

His fingers trail down from my forehead, slow, possessive, knuckles grazing the side of my face like I’m something he’s already unwrapped. His thumb brushes the corner of my lip.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he adds, almost sadly. “I just want you to stop making me the bad guy.”

He leans in again, lips hovering just beside my ear.

“You don’t tell anyone else about this. About me. Not your little teacher friend. Not your friends—if you still have any.” He chuckles softly.

“I won’t,” I whisper, too fast, too automatic, and I hate the way it sounds. I hate how small it makes me feel. But I say it anyway, because I have to. Because I’m not sure what happens if I don’t.

His breath is hot on my neck. His hand settles just above my hip.

“You’re learning,” he says, and he almost sounds proud. Like I’ve done something right. Like this is praise.

Then his mouth grazes my cheek. Not quite a kiss. Not quite anything. Just heat and skin and intent.

“I could stay,” he says. “We could spend the night together.”

The terror pulses so deep in my chest I think I might be sick. I shake my head before I even realize I’m doing it.

“No?” he says, still smiling. Still soft.

Then, without warning, he grabs my wrist and yanks me down the hallway toward my bedroom. I stumble, trying to resist, but his grip is iron. My mind races—how many times has he been here before?

When we reach the bedroom, he shoves me onto the bed. The mattress groans under the sudden weight as I scramble backward, pushing myself toward the headboard, trying to put any distance I can between us.

My hands shake. My breathing is shallow. He just stands there, watching me, that same twisted smile never leaving his face. There’s something in his eyes—something cold and frayed—that makes my skin crawl. I want to scream, to fight, to disappear.

But all I can do is stare back, Then he turns to the door. Clicks it shut. And locks it. That sound—the soft, final click—is a bang to my senses. My breath shatters. He leans his back against the door, watching me with all the patience in the world. Like a lion who knows the cage is locked. “You’re trembling,” he says sweetly, voice thick with something tender and terrible. “Is it fear? Or excitement?” I don’t answer. That’s when he moves. Not like a man. Like a predator.

His hand curls around my ankle, delicate and unhurried, as though he’s holding a teacup, not a girl trembling in her own bed. And then—with a cruel sort of grace—he pulls. I gasp, dragged down the mattress like a doll. My back hits the sheets, my legs falling open just enough to make shame twist low in my gut.

He crawls over me slowly, his tie hanging like a leash between us, brushing my chest. Still smiling. Still soft. Still wearing that goddamn blazer like this is a lecture hall and not my bedroom—like he didn’t just take me from the hallway like a prize he’s been waiting to unwrap. “You looked so pretty just now. All wide-eyed.”

His fingers brush my thigh. Featherlight. A lover’s touch in a nightmare. “No?” he echoes when I shake my head, soft as mist. Tilting his head like a confused child. “Then why didn’t you run?” He leans closer. His breath fans over my throat. “Because deep down, little slut,” His hand traces around my face tenderly. “you wanted me to.”

A low whimper catches in my throat. He shushes me instantly, kissing the corner of my mouth. “None of that, now,” he whispers, velvet-laced. “No tears, no begging.” His other hand trails down, catching the hem of my shirt. “And now,” he says, voice rising with something honeyed and unhinged, “you’ll give me everything else.”

He watches me for a moment longer, head tilted, gaze dragging over my body like a match waiting to be struck. Then, without a word, he moves—fast, precise. He flips me onto my stomach before I can react, the sudden shift knocking the breath from my lungs. I try to twist, to push up, but his hand presses gently between my shoulder blades.

“Shhh,” he breathes, already loosening the tie from around his neck with the kind of slow, deliberate care that makes my pulse scatter. “You’ll like this part.” The fabric is warm from his skin, and it slips around my wrists like a secret. He binds me with practiced ease—neatly, reverently—as if he’s done this in his head a thousand times. Maybe he has. When the knot pulls tight behind my back, a gasp slips from me.

“There,” he whispers, lips brushing my ear as his fingers stroke my hair. “You look like a present… all wrapped up, just for me.” His voice is low, close, too tender to be sane. He presses a kiss just below my ear—then bites. Sharp enough to make me flinch. His hand slides beneath me, under my stomach, and with one slow, possessive push, he lifts my hips. My body responds before I do, knees parting, cheek pressed into the sheets.

I hate how natural it feels. I hate how warm his palm is as he settles me in place like I’m a thing to be arranged. “Look at that,” he murmurs, almost to himself, as he sits back on his heels behind me. “Perfect little shape. Up like you want to be taken.” I squeeze my eyes shut, but it only makes his words sharper. “Such a good girl, staying still,” he croons. “Back arched, thighs soft, hands tied and trembling. You don’t even know how beautiful you are like this.” There’s a pause. Then a small click. My heart skips.

“Mmm,” he hums, pleased, as he lifts his phone and takes the photo. “Don’t worry, baby… just for me. Something to look at when I miss you.” He drags two fingers up my inner thigh, achingly slow. “When I’m alone and hungry and need to remember who belongs to me.” His breath ghosts down my spine. “My little present. My quiet, messy, obedient whore.” His fingers curl around my hip. “You’re going to stay just like this for me. Pretty. Remembering that this is what you craved.” Another soft kiss behind my ear. Another picture. Another piece of me surrendered.

His fingers trail down, slow and teasing, barely grazing the backs of my thighs as he settles behind me. Not quite touching—just hovering. Just enough to make my nerves coil tighter with every breath. “So quiet,” he murmurs, as if he’s speaking to the air between us. “But your body’s already telling me everything.” His fingers finally make contact—light, maddening—drawing invisible lines over my skin like he’s sketching me from memory.

He runs a knuckle just under the curve of my backside, then down, barely brushing the spot that makes my breath catch. “Tense,” he whispers, almost delighted. “Are you scared I’ll like how you taste?” I shake my head, a futile denial buried in the pillow. He laughs softly behind me, the sound honeyed and intimate. “Liar.” Then, without warning, he reaches under the hem of my skirt and slowly—achingly slowly—pushes it up.

The fabric gathers at my waist, baring me to the cool air and his ravenous gaze. “Look at this,” he breathes, palm smoothing over the swell of my exposed ass. “So warm… so soft.” I try to close my legs, but he stops me with a firm hand and a sickly sweet murmur: “Ah-ah. Don’t ruin the view, sweetheart.”

Then his fingers find the edge of my underwear and tug it down. Not off. Just far enough. Just enough to humiliate. “I want it in the way,” he says, voice low and molten. “I want you to feel how barely undone you are.” And then—then I feel him lean in. The first touch of his mouth is like silk over fire. Gentle like he’s worshiping rather than devouring.

A single, slow stroke of his tongue that makes my entire body clench. “Su-Gang,” I gasp, voice trembling, “stop—” But he only hums softly against me, the vibration melting into my skin. “You don’t mean that,” he says, voice muffled, dreamy. “You’re already shaking. Already dripping. You’re mine, baby… and this is how I take care of what’s mine.” His hands slide up to my hips, holding me in place, and then he buries his face between my thighs like I’m something holy.

He eats like he’s savoring a secret, like he has all the time in the world. And I’m trying so hard not to make a sound, trying to stay silent—to resist. But every stroke of his tongue makes it harder. Every soft moan he breathes into me makes it worse. “Still pretending you don’t want it?” he murmurs, licking slow and deep, voice soaked in affection and filth. “Go ahead, baby. Lie to me with your mouth. Your body’s already told the truth.”

He doesn’t rush. His mouth lingers like he’s sipping from something delicate, something rare—tongue sliding in lazy, tender patterns that have nothing to do with urgency and everything to do with ownership. “Mmm,” he hums again, breath hot and sticky against me.

“You taste like berries.” His tongue flicks, slow and deliberate, then retreats just enough to let the cool air kiss my skin. I squirm, breath shallow, legs trembling. He chuckles, warm and terrifying. “Sensitive,” he murmurs, kissing the inside of my thigh. “Are you always this easy to fall apart? Or is it just me?” My fingers clench behind my back, wrists straining against the tie.

I want to move, want to bury my face deeper into the pillow and hide. But he doesn’t let up. Doesn’t give me room to run. “You keep trying to deny it,” he says, brushing his lips just above where I need him. “But I think you like it when I play with you. When I talk to you like you’re already mine.” His voice lowers into a dreamy lilt.

He presses a kiss to the spot just above my entrance, maddeningly soft. “And this?” Another kiss, lower now, warmer. “This is mine now.” Then he dips his tongue in again—shallow, teasing—just enough to make my hips jolt. He groans like he’s the one being ruined. “God, you're so sweet,” he whispers. “I could stay here all night, baby. Just like this. Tied up. Spread out.” He grins against me, licks again, slower.

“Bet you’re so confused right now, huh? Poor thing… shaking like you don’t love it, arching like you do.” His thumb brushes the base of my spine, gentle, reassuring, like we’re sharing something soft instead of something sick. “Don’t worry,” he coos. “I’m not mad at you for pretending. I think it’s cute.” Another kiss. A playful nip. “But I see through you, sweetheart. I always do.” He pulls back just enough to blow warm air against me, making my legs quake. “And when I’m done? You’ll never be able to lie to me again.”

The moment it hits me, I can’t stop it. It shatters through my body like silk torn from the inside out—sudden, deep, humiliating in how good it feels. I choke on a gasp, back arching, toes curling, hands still bound and helpless behind me. And he just moans into me, like my climax is something he can taste, something he’s earned.

My legs twitch, my breath stutters, and I want to close them, to pull away from the pressure of his mouth, but he doesn’t let me. He keeps licking—soft, languid strokes that make me flinch with every pass. “There she is,” he whispers, kissing between my thighs like I’ve just told him a secret. “So pretty when you break.” I whimper, the sound muffled by the sheets, but he only smiles, sitting back slowly, lazily. He gazes down at me like I’m artwork he’s just finished painting—half-naked, trembling, used.

“God, look at you,” he breathes. “I should take another picture.” His tone is teasing now, light and slow, high off my reaction. His hands don’t leave me—one stays curved over the swell of my ass, the other trails down, fingertips gliding between my thighs again, drawing lazy circles that make my hips twitch. “Sensitive?” he murmurs, mock-concerned. “You can’t be done already, baby. Not when I’ve barely started.” He leans over me, chest pressing against my back, lips brushing my ear again. “You feel that? How soft you are now? How open?” A soft laugh. “You gave me that. And now I get to enjoy it.”

His hand slips lower, fingers teasing where I’m still slick, still pulsing. “Don’t worry,” he croons, “I won’t make you come again. Not yet.” He kisses the shell of my ear, then whispers with syrup-thick sweetness, “I just like the way you flinch when I touch you. Like your body knows who it belongs to.” Then he shifts behind me, breath hitching with a new note of pleasure. I don’t have to look to know—he’s rubbing himself.

I can hear it in the way his breath slows. I can feel it in the way his hand moves against me—not hard, not fast—just enough to keep me open, helpless, and aware. “This is my favorite part,” he sighs, voice rougher now. “When you’ve already come, and you’re too tired to lie. When I can just watch you… and imagine all the other ways I’m going to keep you like this.” He groans softly behind me. “You’re going to let me, aren’t you?” A kiss to my shoulder. Another warm touch between my legs. “You won’t say no. Not when you already said yes with your whole body.”

And now, here I am — tied, trembling, still slick from his mouth and raw from my own climax, waiting like prey that wanted to be hunted.

I hear it behind me: the soft slide of a belt, the slow zip of a fly, the crinkle of tension easing from his spine. A sharp, wet sound follows — spit, thick and obscene, catching in his palm before a slow, rhythmic stroke begins. I don’t have to look. I feel it in the air. He’s getting ready to take me.

A slow inhale behind me. A reverent exhale.

Then, Su-Gang speaks.

“You know…” His voice is silk dipped in poison, calm and unbothered. “You really shouldn’t look this pretty when you’re trying not to cry.”

His words make my toes curl.

He leans forward, pressing the weight of his cock to my entrance — not pushing in yet. Just settling there. Heavy.

“I could paint a picture of you like this,” he whispers. “Tied up. Split open. Waiting for me like a gift you already know belongs to me.” A slow thrust of his hips — not enough to enter, just enough to make me feel the slick drag along my folds. His cock nudges, teases.

“Beg,” he says, softly. “Or don’t. Either way, I’m going to take what I want.”

And then — with a single, deep push — he slides inside.

My mouth opens in a silent cry. It’s too much, too slow, too perfect. The stretch is hot and aching, every inch making me feel smaller beneath him.

He stills once he’s buried to the hilt.

“Feel that?” he breathes, mouth grazing my ear. “That stretch… that ache…” A slow pull out. A cruelly gentle thrust back in. “That’s mine.”

One of his hands cups the base of my spine, a barely-there pressure to keep me still — not forceful. Final. The other strokes down my side, fingers trailing like he’s reading braille in my bones. His voice remains maddeningly calm, like we’re discussing poetry instead of being split open on his cock.

His rhythm is slow but deliberate now — hips grinding in and out with a possessive control. “Don’t give me that little whimper like you don’t want it.”

I can feel him smiling against my skin.

“You think I didn’t see this coming?” he continues, cock dragging slow, deep strokes that make my back arch without meaning to. “You in that tiny skirt. That quiet way you watched me in class. You wanted this — to be ruined like something fragile and sweet. You just needed someone willing to break you the right way.”

He thrusts harder, once. My breath stutters.

“And that’s me, baby.”

His blazer brushes my bare back. The tie digging into my wrist, holding me still as he starts to fuck me in earnest — deep, smooth strokes, like he’s carving his name into my body with every pass.

“Listen to yourself,” he whispers, biting gently at my shoulder. “That sound in your throat? That’s not fear. That’s submission.”

His thrusts slow again, cruel and controlled. His fingers brush between my thighs, finding the slickness he left behind with his mouth.

“You’re soaked. Dripping like your body knows who it belongs to.”

He rolls his hips in a long, punishing grind. My knees shake.

“Bet you thought you could hide it,” he breathes, voice low and smooth. “But I see everything. Every twitch. Every gasp. Every time you push back just enough to make me think you don’t need this.”

Another thrust — hard. Deep.

“You do.”

He leans forward again, breath warm against my cheek.

“You’re mine now,” he says, a final whisper before he sets a new rhythm. “And after this, you’ll never be able to pretend otherwise.”

His fingers slip between my thighs again—slick, slow, precise—and I choke on a sob. The tension coils tight in my belly, unbearable. He circles that spot with maddening gentleness as he thrusts harder again, forcing my body to surrender to the rhythm he sets.

“Say it,” he murmurs, biting at my shoulder. “Say who you belong to.”

I shake my head at first—pure instinct—and he laughs, low and cruel. The rhythm falters just long enough to make me whimper at the loss. Then he slams back into me and I scream, gasping, because it’s too much and still not enough.

“Say it.”

My knees buckle. His arm catches my waist and holds me up, tight against his chest. “You,” I gasp. “Yours. I’m—yours.”

His grip tightens. The tie digs in. His thrusts become ragged, brutal, as though the words snapped something in both of us. I cry out again, body shaking, every nerve lit, raw and burning with that final edge.

Then—I shatter.

Clenching around him, shuddering as the orgasm crashes over me, white-hot and consuming. He doesn’t stop. He growls something low and inhuman against my neck and thrusts one last time, deep, buried to the hilt, and goes still with a strangled moan.

His breath is hot and uneven on my shoulder. He doesn’t pull out. Doesn’t untie me. Just leans there, breathing me in, cock still throbbing inside as if claiming every last inch.

“You’ll remember this,” he says softly, voice thick with triumph. “Every time you pretend you’re still the good girl.” He presses a kiss to the nape of my neck, almost tender.

“And you’ll know better.”

He stays buried inside me for a long moment, like he owns the silence as much as he owns my body. His chest rises and falls against my back, breath slowing, the weight of him on my back. Then, without a word, he shifts — a deliberate pull of his hips that makes me gasp again as he withdraws, slow and unhurried.

The absence is as much a statement as everything that came before.

I can feel the wet heat between my thighs, dripping down, and I know he sees it too as he stands behind me, fixing his belt with calm, practiced fingers. The quiet click of metal feels obscene in the hush of the room.

“You’re a mess,” he murmurs, amused.

The sound of fabric rustling tells me he’s smoothing his shirt, straightening his blazer. Like none of this shook him. Like he does this all the time. Like he’s already decided this wasn’t a moment — it was a routine.

Then his fingers return to me — to the knot behind my wrists. He undoes it slowly, letting the tie free and it fall away. My arms drop forward, sore and tingling from tension, and I draw a shaky breath.

But before I can move, he’s already guiding me—turning me, tilting my body until I’m on my back, sprawled across the bed like something ruined and displayed.

He leans over me, eyes scanning every inch of my flushed skin, from the marks on my thighs to the dazed, wet look in my eyes. His phone is suddenly in his hand. “Look at you,” he murmurs. “Perfect.”

The click of the phone is soft, almost delicate. He takes one photo. Just one.

“To add to my collection,” he says, smiling.

My breath stutters again. I feel exposed. Under that gaze.

He leans in, phone still in his hand, and catches my face between his fingers — not rough, not cruel, but firm. His thumb strokes my cheek, smearing whatever remnants of tears or sweat are still there, like he’s savoring the aftermath just as much as the act itself. Then he kisses me.

Not rushed. Not hungry. Like I’m his. Slow, and deep, and possessive.

When he finally pulls back, I’m gasping all over again — not from what he did to my body, but from how completely he’s taken over my body.

He smiles down at me, brushing hair away from my face, like he already knows what I’m thinking. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, voice low. “And this? This was just the beginning.”

He straightens, adjusts his cuffs, and starts toward the door—unhurried, composed, as if what he just did to me was nothing more than a casual conversation. At the threshold, he pauses and looks back one last time. His gaze drags over me, bare and breathless in my own bed, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. Like he’s proud of what he’s leaving behind.

Then he turns and disappears into the hallway.

The door closes behind him with a soft click, and I’m alone. The only sound left is my own breathing and the faint, lingering echo of everything he did. Of everything I let him do.

In my own room. My world. And now it doesn’t feel like mine at all.

My bed’s a mess — sheets twisted, pillows half on the floor, the air still thick with sweat and something darker. The scent of him clings to everything. My wrists burn faintly from the tie, my thighs ache with every shift, and my lips are still swollen from the way he kissed me like he owned me. But it’s the silence afterward that feels the cruelest. No soft word. No reassurance. Just… gone.

Like I was a scene to be acted out. A need to be used up. I lie there on the bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling, letting the heat fade from my skin until I’m just cold. Empty. Slowly, I pull the sheets up over me. Just to hide.

I wake to the alarm’s buzz, head pounding.

For a second I forget why I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Then I shift… and the soreness between my thighs reminds me. My stomach knots. I force myself up, push through the routine like a ghost — shower, brush, dress. But nothing scrubs him off.

I dress more conservatively than usual, as if fabric could protect me now. As if he didn’t already take everything he wanted. I glance around my room, still disheveled, sheets half-stained with sweat and spit and…My phone buzzes.

Unknown Number

Attached image: Me. Last night. Face dazed. Wrists red. Legs parted. On this bed. My bed. My world invaded and taken.

Below it:

“Can’t wait to do this again.”

I don’t breathe. The panic starts slow a cold pulse in the back of my throat. I check the number. No name. No clue. But I know. I know. Then — another message, like the first wasn’t enough.

Unknown Number:

“If you tell Mrs. So anything… I’ll ruin what little life you have left.”

I drop the phone. My knees go weak and I sink onto the edge of the bed, hands trembling, stomach twisting in knots. The image still burns behind my eyes — not just the photo, but the memory. The sound of his voice. The way he’d said “mine”.

And now… I can't even scream. Because he made sure I wouldn’t.

School feels different now. Like every hallway is longer, every wall closer, every door hiding something I can’t unsee. I walk with my head down, hands cold, shoulders stiff with the weight of pretending nothing happened. But I feel it with every step. The ache in my thighs. The raw burn around my wrists. The phantom pressure of him still inside me.

I can’t forget.

I move through the morning on autopilot, nodding when I’m spoken to, laughing at things I don’t hear. No one notices. No one ever does. But behind my eyes, everything’s trembling. And beneath my clothes, I’m still wearing last night like a bruise.

I see the back of him first — blazer perfect, hair neat, the same tie he used to bind me now looped neatly around his collar like it doesn’t remember. He’s surrounded by a few guys. Joking. Relaxed. Like he didn’t tear me open the night before and leave me in my own bed like a discarded thing.

I slip into the classroom early and sink into my seat. My hands won’t stop shaking. I stare at the blackboard. I pretend I’m just tired.

Mr.Kim claps his hands once. “Partner project time! Random draw, no trading, so don’t ask.”

The names come fast. A blur.

Then—my name.

“...and Su-Gang,” he says cheerfully. “You two will work together on the bonding unit. Chemistry of connection. Perfect, right?”

There’s light laughter. It cuts through me like a knife. I feel him before I see him—again. The shift in the air. The scrape of a chair pulled beside mine. The warmth of his presence before he even sits. He doesn’t speak right away. Just lets the silence stretch until I almost convince myself I imagined it.

Then he leans in, breath brushing my ear.

“Told you this was just the beginning.”

I don’t blink. I don’t turn. I just stare at my notebook, empty and waiting, while my pulse pounds in my ears.

I nod when Mr.Kim asks if we’re clear on the assignment. I write the due date like it matters. He’s close enough that his knee brushes mine—close enough to remind me I didn’t dream any of it. He’s in my school. In my class. Now assigned to me like some sick joke.

And I realize, right then, with cold clarity: I can’t get rid of him.

He’s not some ghost that will fade. He’s a presence now. Permanent. Invited into my world. My space, my silence, my life—all slowly coiling around him like a noose. After class, I don’t speak. I don’t look at him. I just walk. One foot in front of the other, trying not to run. I turn my phone off. I don’t want to see what else he’s sent.

When I get home, I lock my door and sit on the bed, still unmade from last night. The sheets are crumpled, the pillows still on the floor, the air still holding the memory of his breath, his hands, his voice whispering mine. The room feels smaller now.

I stare at the floor for a long time.

I just sit there, listening to the silence, and realize it doesn’t feel like safety anymore.

It feels like nothing.

And inside me, something hollow grows deeper.

fin

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teliphone · 3 months ago

Text

Narcissus

Summary: Joo Yeri is so attractive that being stared at is common for her. She hears the same compliments all the time. “You’re so pretty.” “You’re so beautiful.” She enjoys the attention she gets, but she specifically loves your attention the most after reading your sick little journal.

Warning(s): Smut, Bullying, Selfish, Stealing, Oral

Word count: 2.5k

You could not help but stare at Joo Yeri all the time. She is just so perfect and beautiful. During class, you would turn your head to the left to sneak at least one glance. She sits in a straight position with her legs crossed. Her slightly curled, long dark brown hair falls past her shoulders. It became a habit to watch her. It feels like a blessing to your soul when you look at her.

Suddenly, Yeri turns her head to look straight at you. As if she already knew you were staring at her. Your cheeks immediately turn red, and you jerk your head back to your textbook. Being caught is the most embarrassing thing, especially if it's her. She lifts her soft hands to hide her smirk and softly chuckles. She tilts her head slowly back to her textbook. It makes her extremely happy when people ogle at her. It stirred something inside her. She put in a lot of effort to make herself beautiful, hoping to attract attention. After a few minutes, you turn your head to gaze at her again. It became a habit.

It's so bad to the point that you accidentally crashed into a classmate while you were staring at Yeri down the hall. The papers the classmate was holding fell out of her grip. You quickly apologize and kneel to collect the papers. The ground hurts your knees as you scatter to grab the paper. You feel your body heat up in embarrassment again. Your classmate rolls her eyes in annoyance. She crosses her arms and glares at you.

“Can you pay attention to where you’re going?” She snaps. You don’t respond and hand her the papers. You stare at the ground to avoid looking at her. She ticks her tongue in annoyance. She snatches the papers out your hands, leaving a small paper cut on your finger. You nibble your bottom lip to avoid making a sound.

“Since we’re classmates, I’m going to give you some advice.” She sighs, “If you want people to take you seriously… you should probably look them in the eye." The other classmates around her start to laugh and snicker. You turn your head to the side, completely opposite of what she said. You feel your heart pounding in anxiety. Your classmate shoves a finger into your shoulders in a teasing way. Her poke hurts, causing you to wince.

“I said look at me,” She laughs. You hear footsteps to the left side of you, but you don’t look up.

“Your voice is annoying me,” You hear a soft angelic ridicule. You can recognize that voice anywhere. You snap your head up to look at your savior. She has a bored look on her face and her hands in her pockets. The classmates nervously laugh and take a few steps back. She brushes her hair away from her face with a shy smile.

“Y-Yeri… You look beautiful today,” She compliments. Yeri tilts her head, her expression not changing. Usually, she loved compliments, but for some reason, it didn’t feel euphoric. She tries hard not to grimace and wrinkle her skin. She sighs in disappointment.

“I said your voice annoys me. Shut up,” She repeats slowly to mock the classmates as if she was talking to a child. The classmates blush in embarrassment. Her friends quickly tug her to pull her away from the situation. They rush down the hall, leaving you with Yeri. She turns her head to look at you. Your heart skips a beat when you make eye contact with her. You’ve never been this close to her before. Her beauty is breathtaking.

“Thank you…” You mumble. Yeri softly chuckles and shrugs her shoulders.

“I was helping myself. I don’t like loud noises,” She explains before spinning her heel to walk away. You drop your shoulders. Your angel is more selfish than you thought. Of course, you expected it to be that way. She’s too perfect… she can do anything to please herself. Pretty privilege. You smile and continue watching her walk down the halls. You didn’t care that she was selfish; she can be. Out of everyone in this school, only she can.

Once you snap out of the trance, you look down at your finger to see the small, dried, bloody paper cut. You let out a big sigh of tiredness.

You sit alone in the classroom, writing in your journal. The pen runs quickly and smoothly across the paper. You slightly hunch over in secrecy. All in your mind is Yeri, like you’re a fan. You write about her beauty. Words lace with admiration, poetry, or flat out lustful. You allow your mind to run freely as your pen tries its best to catch up. You then write about how she “saved you”- making it sound more heroic and romantic than how it actually was.

It was weird, but the more you wrote about her in your silly journal, the more you squeezed your thighs together. Your lustful fantasy about her drove you out of reality. You feel a different type of heat burn throughout your body. You bite your bottom lip and slightly buckle your core against your seat. Your pen starts to slow down a little bit as you try to write out the perfect details of her lips.

“What are you writing about?” The angelic voice crashes in your daydream. You slam the journal shut and stare at the culprit like a deer in headlights. You failed to hear a student walk into the room. Yeri rests her hands on top of your desk and towers over you. She has a playful glint in her eyes. Her hair falls past her shoulders and curtains you. You shamelessly inhale to smell her sweet scent. Her perfume is so good, it's enough to make you roll your eyes.

“Nothing.” You lie. She softly chuckles. Your eyes quickly analyze her glossy pink lips. You feel an itch to write it down in your journal. But you refuse to look away. You need to burn the memory in your mind before she leaves. She slowly scans her eyes to your notebook, then back up to your eyes. Her eyelashes flutter.

“Did you write about your crush?” She asks. Your cheeks turn bright red. You tightly grip onto your journal and nervously gulp.

“It’s nothing really,” You hesitate. She doesn’t buy it. Instead, she leans closer to you as if she were sharing a secret.

“Want me to take a guess?” She whispers. Her close presence leaves you speechless. You try to calm your breathing, but your mind is short-circuited. Her lips turn to a small smirk. She can physically see you lagging and struggling. She decides to tease you one more time. She brings her hands up to brush your hair behind your ears. She can see your eyes more clearly.

Then it happened. Something switched in her mind that she hadn’t realized before.

You have beautiful eyes, and she wants you to become deeply infatuated with her. She wants your eyes to be the ones always staring at her. She looks back down at the journal and clenches her jaw. She wanted to know what you were writing about. If it was about someone else, she would be extremely mad and jealous. She hoped her beauty alone was enough to make you obsessed. The sound of students entering the classroom makes her pull away. She walks to her desk like nothing happened. Once she was far from your presences, you suck in a deep breath. You shove your journal into your bag in a hurry.

You plop yourself onto your bed in exhaustion. You run your fingers through your hair, letting out a shaky sigh. After a little time of thinking, you start to giggle. You couldn’t believe you were almost caught by Yeri. You push yourself off the bed and walk towards your bag. You blindly shuffling around to grab your journal. Your eyebrows start to furrow when you don’t feel it. You open the bag bigger and stressfully look around.

Your journal is gone.

Your heart drops, and your face turns pale. The air feels cold.

“No, no, no…” You panic. Still in denial, you turn your bag upside down and watch all your products fall onto the ground. In stress, you run your hand into your head. You can feel your eyes starting to water. You start praying to God in desperation. You can not let someone read your sinful journal. You quickly grab a jacket and rush to go back to school.

The hallways are eerier and quieter than you expected. You are not used to being in school after hours. You tug your jacket closer to your body. Your footsteps are quick as you rush to your classroom. You slide the door open and zip to your desk. You duck under and check the inside of your desk. Nothing. You pray that you dropped your journal on the streets and a random person picked it up. You never wrote your name in it, so no stranger would know it was you. You hear footsteps coming, and it makes you panic. You think it's the security guard. You try to find a place to hide, but it is already too late.

Luckily, it was Joo Yeri… Yeri? What is she doing here so late? She stands by the door with her hands in her pockets.

“What are you doing here so late?” She asks you.

“I can ask the same thing to you,” You reply. She smiles and slides the door shut. She slowly walks over to you with an unreadable look on her face. You take a step back, but the desk stops you. Her face expresses that she’s in deep thought. Then she smiles, a sinister one.

“Looking for something?... Like a little journal?” She teases. Your eyes widen in shock. She crosses her hands and takes a seat on a desk in front of you. Her eyes are innocent looking, but it’s the opposite in mind.

“The things you wrote about me are interesting,” She smirks. You immediately fall onto your knees. You feel your eyes watering in embarrassment and shame. You have never felt such a deep regret. You could die right now.

“I am so, so sorry,” You splutter. She starts giggling with a hand covering her mouth. Your eyes are glued to her shoes. You feel too much shame to be looking at her in the eyes. She slides off the desk and walks in front of you. Her skirt is all you can see.

“Do you really mean what you wrote?” She asks.

“I’m sorry-”

“Answer me,” She cuts. You clench your fist and suck in a deep breath.

“...Yes,” You confess. Yeri felt a chill run down her body. She feels enlightened. No one has ever said those things about her. The things you wrote about her would usually scare people away, but to her, it was different. She got tired of hearing the same compliments over and over. You wrote things that were specific and true.

She brings her hands down to touch the top of your head.

“You have such a naughty mind,” She giggles as she runs her fingers through your hair. She got tired of seeing the top of your head. She wanted to see your beautiful eyes again.

“Look at me,” She softly demands. You slowly turn your head up obediently. Her eyes dilate, and butterflies flutter in her stomach.

“You make me feel so beautiful,” She confesses. She knew you would worship the ground she stepped on and that you could feed off only of her and nothing else. That’s the amount of infatuation she wants from another person. Everyone else failed to see how needy and horny she could be. She pleases herself all the time during dark hours.

“Worship me,” She whispers. Her heavily lidded eyes stare at you, waiting for your movement. Your heartbeat hammers against your chest. You lean your lips to kiss her thighs. As you continue peppering kisses over her inner thighs, you loop your fingers around her panties. You pull them down and help her step out of them. She quickly gathers her skirt up to let you get closer to her core. You blush as you stare at her perfect pink pussy. You look back up to her. Her eyes are dark and filled with lust. Her chest moves up and down slowly. You lift your fingers to spread her lips apart. You stick out your tongue and give her a gentle long lick on her core.

“Thank you,” You praise before going back to her core. Her thighs tenses each time you licked. Her stomach clenches, and she bites her bottom lip. Your eyes never stop looking at her. You wanted to keep watching how her face scrunched in pleasure. How her head would tilt back, exposing her neck.

You can start to feel her wetness increasing, coating your lips in her silkiness. Your spit mixes in with her juice. You give her more long licks up and down. Her grip on your head starts to become tighter. You run your tongue in circles around her clit. She gasps and thrusts her core into your mouth. Her cheeks are visibly pink. You start flicking your tongue against her nub, and she lets out a delightful moan. She locks her hands behind your head and starts moving her hips. You stick your tongue to let her use you. You place your hands around her upper thighs.

She cusses and moans sweetly. Not too loud, but enough for you to hear. Her movement starts to slow down which allows you to wrap your lips around her clit. You suck hard and her thighs shake. She moans and jerks her clit away. It felt too good, she was gonna come too soon. You lick your lips.

“You look so lovely above me,” You profess. She blushes as she tries to catch her breath. Her hair starts to stick to her sweaty forehead. Before she can calm down, you go back to her core. You flick your tongue and suck faster and harder. You become pussydrunk. Her scent, taste, and moans are so heavenly to you. She shuts her eyes and jerks her core deeper into your mouth. Her moans start to become more high-pitched. Her legs shake uncontrollably.

“Fuck," She moans, "I am going to come.” She looks down and realizes you have been watching her the whole time. That pushes her off the edge, and she comes into your mouth with another high-pitched moan. She moves her core slowly against your mouth to ride off her high.

You pull away from her core. A trail of her juice connects with your lips. She tugs your head to come up. You listen and try to stand up. Your knees are a little numb, causing you to stumble. She quickly wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you into a kiss. Her pump lips move quickly against yours. You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to keep up with her. She moans again when she tastes herself on your lips.

She knew she would taste good.

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