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wwooyology · 1 year ago

Note

idol sunghoon getting pissed because of his idol gf got into a dating scandal with his co-member, and his gf liked the way he got pissed, so he decided to show her who she really belongs to (??)

「notes」 : anony c'mere lemme just *😚🧠* you gave me an inch, and I swear I took it like ten miles... so lemme just say that I contemplated this and I may or may not have gone a little stir crazy (that and I'm pretty sure I'm ovulating...), so I sincerely apologize for the nastiness you're about to set your eyes upon 🫣🫣

↳ you can find the add-on part here!

Mark Me Yours | P.SH

「pairing」 : idol!bf!sunghoon x idol!fem!reader 「word count」 : 5k

「synopsis」 : the first time you were caught out with jake by the press it was an accident, but after seeing your boyfriend's jealous reaction you couldn't help but want to see more. so you went out with jake time and time again, even going as far as being a little too friendly with jake just to see how much sunghoon could take before he snapped. though your outcome probably wasn't exactly what you had in mind.

「genre」 : smut

「warning」 : cursing, biting/marking, rough makeout session, fingering, oral (m. & f. receiving), usage of toys, begging, degradation, choking, hair pulling, bondage, pussy slapping, clit play, face fucking, cum eating, dacryphilia, squirting, spitting, kinda toxic possessiveness, mean!dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (please don't), orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, photography, breeding kink, creampie, manhandling, slight breath play, sunghoon is a bit sadistic, mentions of a safeword (but it's not used), petnames (princess, baby, slut, whore…), mentions of blood, implications of multiple rounds, lmk if I missed anything!

You lay out lazily on your boyfriend's bed, waiting for him to finish his shower after he had a long day at work. Scrolling through Twitter, laughing to yourself as you come across yet another article, 'Timeless y/n and Enhypen Jake Spotted Together Once Again, Coincidence or Not?' This had to be the third or fourth article within the last two weeks.

When the first article dropped after you were spotted with Jake at a local coffee shop, you were beyond worried about how your boyfriend would take it. However, seeing his face twist in annoyance and jealousy flipped a switch in you. The way his jaw would clench when he’d spot people on Instagram or Twitter talking about you and Jake, or when ship edits started to get posted of the two of you, or even when you were sitting in the room alone with just Jake. It was insanely attractive and left you dripping in your panties.

Sunghoon knew it wasn’t your fault for what the press did or didn’t post, but he also couldn’t help the way that it pissed him off beyond belief every time he saw the photos.

You then made it your goal to see just how much your boyfriend could take before he finally snapped. So you continued to go out in public with Jake, knowing you could be spotted just so you could get a rise out of your boyfriend. After the first week or so, you stepped it up a little bit. Getting a little too friendly with Jake, laughing at his jokes a little too hard, your hands wondering his body a little too much, your voice a little too surly when you talked to him, being just a little too close. Jake, of course, was oblivious to all of your little antics, thinking you were just being friendly and sweet like you usually were. It started to drive Sunghoon up a wall, so much so that he had to avoid being in the same room as Jake so he wouldn’t lash out at the poor boy. Eventually, he caught on to what you were trying to do, and he could feel his blood boil. He could handle you being a brat, but this? He was damn near his wits end, a hair away from snapping.

Coming back to the present, you were snapped out of your thoughts when a knock at the door was heard. Muttering a quick ‘come in,’ you weren’t too surprised to see Jake standing there, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket.

“Hey, Jakey.” You smiled sweetly at the boy who returned your gesture before looking around the room, presumably looking for your dark-haired boyfriend.

And just as you thought, the question fell from his lips, “Where’s Sunghoon?”

“He’s in the shower,” you told him, and Jake nodded before walking over, flopping down onto the bed, his upper body draped over your lap.

“Did you see the new article?” He pouted as he started to pick at the end of your skirt, causing you to smile, but you nodded your head before tilting your phone screen down to show him that you had been reading it. Jake sighed dramatically, his face falling into the side of your thigh, “I hope they stop soon. I’m pretty sure Hoon is gonna strangle me the next time one comes out.” He shivered at the thought, causing you to start laughing.

You knew he was right. Sunghoon has been avoiding Jake like the plague for the past few days. Anger and annoyance are the main expressions he wears anymore. His jaw is always locked tight, afraid he might say the wrong thing. But you were enjoying it, maybe a little too much.

Just then, the bathroom door swung open, ceasing your laughter as Sunghoon walked into the room, towel in hand, drying his damp hair. However, as soon as his eyes landed on you and Jake in his bed, you could have sworn you saw a fuse blow in his head. His eyes darkened into a glare, demanding that Jake leave, not a single bit of room left open for discussion.

Jake nearly levitates off of the bed before rushing out of the room as quickly as he possibly could, not wanting to be at the end of your boyfriend's wrath. You watched with an amused smirk as Sunghoon's eyes trailed from the doorway back to you.

“Is this really that amusing to you?” His voice was cold as he walked towards the open door; it sent a shiver down your spine and your thighs clenching together. You, however, just hummed with a shrug before looking back down at your phone. You peeked over the top of it, excitement bubbling in your chest as you watched Sunghoon slam the door shut before turning the lock. The moment you had been waiting for was finally about to happen; you finally got him to snap. You mentally cheered, completely missing the borderline psychotic gleam in your boyfriend’s eyes.

Sunghoon walked back to the end of the bed, a snarl pulling on his upper lip, revealing his pointy canine. The very canines you wished would mark your body up, leaving behind puncture wounds and bruises even though you would get a lot of shit from your manager and makeup artist. He never did, though, because he knew the stakes; however, now? Now, all of those thoughts. All of the sane thoughts, really. Completely vanished from his mind.

He leaned over the bed, grabbing your outstretched ankle before yanking your body down to him. A small gasp fell from your lips at the sudden action but was quickly quieted when you bit your tongue as Sunghoon hovered over you, slotting his body against yours.

The dark, lustful look in his eyes had your body wiggling in anticipation, a shock rushing through your veins when you felt his erection against your thinly covered core. Thinking back to all of the stuff you did to get here made you giggle because you thought you had finally won. Or so you thought. Sunghoon, on the other hand, found it far, so far, from amusing.

“Well, see how much you’ll be laughing, princess,” He chuckled darkly before his slender fingers wrapped tightly around your throat, causing your breath to hitch, but all the air was soon taken out of your lungs when he kissed you hard.

A cry tore from your lungs when he bit down on your bottom lip before sucking on it. You were sure that it had drawn blood, but your mind was quickly bought elsewhere when his other hand cupped your boob, squeezing harshly.

“You just like the attention, huh?” He growled, nipping at your jaw, “You’re just a little attention whore, is that it?”

You whined as his grip on your throat got tighter, not enough to completely cut off your air supply, but definitely enough to make you feel a little lightheaded. Sunghoon was typically always rough when it came to sex, but this? This was new, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on even more.

“Don’t think I don’t know what your little game was.” His voice was deep, sending shock waves throughout your body, “How you purposely left with Jake knowing the press was watching,” He moved his hand, allowing you to breathe, but not long before he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of your neck causing you to cry out his name, “or how you threw yourself all over Jake…” Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as he continued to bite and suck on your neck, leaving deep purple and red marks. “All for what, huh? My attention? Well, guess what, princess, now you have it.”

You knew you probably pushed him way over the edge the moment he started to mark up your skin. While his hands were tight enough on your body, you were sure they’d leave bruises behind. Then that dark lust that clouded his eyes was the final ringer that let you know, ‘oh I really fucked up’.

“Hoon-” “What’s the safe word?” Oh, you definitely fucked up; you knew he never mentioned the safe word unless he was going to be rough. The two of you only came up with it just as percussion, mainly when you tried something new. But for him to ask now when you could clearly see the anger in his eyes? Yeah, you were screwed.

When he didn’t get an answer quickly enough, he grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together, and moved his face merely inches away from yours.

“What’s. The. Word. Y/n.” Sunghoon snarled, enunciating every word with a glare. Your eyes were wide, not quite out of fear but something else you weren’t sure what to call.

“Purple.” You responded to the best of your ability with his hand on your face, eyes staring into his.

Then he let go of your face before pushing off of your body, standing flat on his feet. You pushed yourself up, eyes on him, ready to ask what he was doing. However, his voice was quick to beat you to it.

“Strip and on your knees.”

The tone of his voice was already enough to leave you dripping in your underwear, but the way his eyes bore into you made your whole body shiver. This new side of Sunghoon was something you never thought you would need, but it is now. You wanted so badly to disobey him, but you knew that if you continued to push his buttons, he wouldn’t hesitate to leave you without cumming.

So, with shaky legs, you pulled yourself to your feet before slowly undoing the button on your skirt and letting it fall to the floor. You could feel Sunghoon’s fiery gaze on you as you pulled your shirt over your head and threw it somewhere in the room. Once you were left standing there completely bare before him, Sunghoon walked over and put his hand on your shoulder, pushing you down onto your knees.

“Now be a good girl and put that pretty mouth of yours to use,” He spoke lowly, his finger combing through your hair until he got to the crown of your head. A whimper fell from your lips as you placed your hands on his thighs to stabilize yourself when he tugged your head back harshly. “And I swear to god you try to tease, I will leave you here tied to the bed with a vibrator attached to your cunt.” The way his upper lip pulled back to show his pointed tooth, you knew he wasn’t lying.

"O-Okay," You choked out as he cranked your neck back a little more, eliciting a cry from your lips. He then let go, standing straight again, allowing you to slightly relax your neck. You wasted no time pulling his sweatpants' string loose before hooking your fingers around the waistband to pull them down. Once his pants were pooled at his feet, you lifted yourself up a bit, mouth watering at the sight of your boyfriend's dick.

Sunghoon then held something out to you, and your eyes went wide at the sight of the little pink egg, “Put this in that needy little hole of yours, and don’t you dare cum without my permission.” Your gaze shifted from the little toy to your boyfriend’s hooded gaze before taking it into your hand.

You kept your eyes locked with his as you brought the toy down to your pulsating heat, rubbing it up and down to collect your slick to use as lube. The slight stretch it offered left a whine falling from your lips, but it wasn’t nearly enough. That’s what you thought, at least, until a sudden vibration caused your whole body to jolt and a moan to slip past your lips. Then it was gone. Sunghoon watched from above as your body relaxed a bit, your eyes shifting to meet his once more.

He then grabbed himself at the base before tapping the head against your lips, prompting you to open your mouth. You parted your lips, sticking your tongue out, letting him drag his tip across your wet muscle, hissing at the contact. Shuffling a bit closer, you encased your lips around his tip, causing him to groan. Sunghoon gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail before thrusting his hips forward, sheathing his entire length in your mouth. Thankfully, your gag reflex was almost nonexistent; otherwise, you were sure you would be a choking mess.

His pace started out steady; his hold on your hair kept your head in place. Until he found his rhythm, and his hips snapped forward, hitting the back of your throat, causing tears to prick at the corner of your eyes. Then the little toy inside of you buzzed to life, causing a moan to tear through your throat, muffled by his dick. The vibrations caused Sunghoon’s head to fall back with a groan.

Your head started to go fuzzy with pleasure as Sunghoon continued to piston his hips until your nose brushed his pelvis bone. The vibrations then kicked up, causing your body to jolt, nails to dig into his thighs, and you to moan around his cock. All of the sensations were overwhelming, and you weren’t sure if you would last much longer, but then Sunghoon’s words echoed in your brain. Knowing that he would punish you even more if you came without his permission, you tried your best to hold it in.

The drag of his cock along your tongue was enough to have your eyes roll back as you pressed the wet appendage against him.

“Fuck, this is supposed to be a punishment, yet you look like you enjoy sucking my dick.” He chuckled darkly before a throaty groan broke from his lips, his hips stuttering as he got closer to his high. You hummed around him, trying to keep yourself grounded, but you nearly choked as he turned the vibrations up to the highest setting. Tears were spilling from your eyes as you screwed them shut, pleasure overriding your senses.

Sunghoon wanted to burn this image into his memory, the tears running down your flushed cheeks. How the mixture of his pre-cum and your saliva dripped from your chin. The dark purple and red bite marks that covered the skin of your neck. The way your hips rocked against nothing but the air as you struggled to keep from tipping over the edge. God, it was a picture-perfect sight; if he could, he would share it with the world. A clear sign that you were his.

The thought of all of your guys' fans seeing it drove him over the edge, his dick twitching in your mouth as he painted your throat white. An animalist growl tore through his mouth as he rocked his hip, riding out his high before shutting the vibrator off. He then pulled out of your mouth, watching as you closed your lips, swallowing his seed without a word. You then opened your mouth once more, tongue lolling out to show him.

He then tugged on your hair, causing you to whine as you stood on wobbly legs. Not giving you a moment to breathe before his lips found yours in a heated kiss. He groaned at the taste of himself on your tongue before maneuvering you back until your knees hit the bed. A gasp fell from your lips as Sunghoon picked you up and crawled onto the bed before laying you flat on your back.

Sunghoon pulled away from your lips, pressing hot, wet kisses along your jugular down to your breast before encasing one of your nipples in his mouth. A breathy moan escaped your parted lips as your fingers ran through his hair, tugging slightly.

A loud cry escaped from your lips, and tears fell from your eyes when the vibrator kicked back to life. Your hips bucking against Sunghoon’s body, and your hands tugging on his hair. The male smirked as your body tensed underneath his, listening to every little noise that left your pretty lips.

“Hoon- fuck!” You cried out when you felt his slim fingers prodding at your entrance, thumb pressed against your clit. There was no way you were going to be able to last long at this rate, but when you met his dark gaze, you knew you had no other choice.

Your back arched off of the bed when he pushed two of his fingers into your pussy, pushing the little egg further in. A lewd, pornographic moan tore from your lungs when it pressed against your sweet spot.

“Found it,” Sunghoon chuckled, pulling his mouth away from your tits to watch as your body convulsed under him. His fingers started to pump in and out of your slick walls while turning the vibrator up.

Your ears were ringing, and your brain was starting to go blank as your body became overwhelmed with pleasure. Moans and cries of Sunghoon’s name fell from your lips like a mantra, and you could feel that little knot tighten to the point of almost snapping.

“‘M close! Hoon, please!” You cried out, back arching off of the bed as your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. Then, just like that, your orgasm was ripped away from you when Sunghoon pulled not only his fingers out but the vibrator as well. Pleas and whines slipped past your swollen lips as your vision focused, but your words were cut short when Sunghoon wrapped his fingers around your throat once more.

“Oh no, baby, you seem to have forgotten.” He left a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips before moving to your ear, “this is a punishment, you’ll cum when I say you can.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you locked eyes with your boyfriend, your mind reeling. This wasn’t how you expected things to go; sure, you knew he was going to punish you, but this? Your whole body was on fire, and the touch of Sunghoon’s finger felt like it was searing your skin, leaving behind traces of his touch.

Your jaw fell slack as Sunghoon slipped his fingers back into your dripping cunt, moving at a harsh pace. His thumb presses down in tight circles on your clit. Cries left your lips as you tried to push your boyfriend's hand away from your sore hole, but he was quick to grab your wrists with a growl, pinning them above your head.

“Don’t be a brat, be a good little slut and take my fingers.” His words stung in all the right ways, and your cunt squeezed around his fingers. Sunghoon smirked before catching your lips in a bruising kiss, muffling all the moans escaping your throat.

Your head fell back as you tried to wiggle your hips away from Sunghoon’s hand, the sensation becoming too much, almost mind-numbing. Sunghoon pulled his fingers out before landing a firm smack on your clit, causing a loud cry to fall from your lips, tears flowing down your cheeks.

“What did I say?” His tone was a low growl, sliding his finger back in.

“Please, Hoon, it’s- fuck! ‘S too much.” Your cries only spurred your boyfriend on, speeding his fingers up.

Broken sobs fell from your mouth as you felt that same knot in your gut reappear, but you knew that he would just rip that away. Your nails dug into the palm of your hand as you tried to ground yourself, but his fingers just kept rubbing your velvet walls in all the right ways, making stars cloud your vision. And then it was gone once again.

Sunghoon’s dick twitched at the sight of your tear-streaked face, loving how your makeup smeared under your eyes, how tears stuck to your eyelashes as you looked up at him with the fuck-out expression he loves so much. His eyes then traveled down the length of your body, your hands pinned so perfectly under his, the love bites that littered your neck and chest, the sheen of sweat that coated your body, then, finally, your dripping cunt. Your slick leaked out onto his sheets, leaving a wet patch. The sight made him rock hard once more, to the point that it almost hurt.

His silence was worrying to you because you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, let alone what he was going to do next. Just then, he released your wrist before leaning over to his bedside table. Your eyes widened as he pulled out the bundle of black rope, shaking your head frantically.

“No, no, I’ll be good, I promise! Sunghoon, please.” You begged, tears streaming from your eyes. However, those pleas were cut short when he glared down at you, holding his hand out for yours. “Sung-”

“Hands. Now.” His tone left no room for negotiation, and with a whine, you placed your hands in his. Watching as he bound your wrists together before pulling them above your head to attach them to the headboard. Once you were locked in place, he leaned down, face mere centimeters away from yours. “Should have thought about that before, huh?” His voice was harsh, his eyes gleaming, almost sadistic. “Maybe I should mark up this perfect body of yours; then maybe you’ll get the idea that you’re mine.”

You bite your lip as he moves down your body, hooking his hands under your thighs, lifting your lower half until your ass rests on his chest, legs hanging over his shoulders. The position was extremely uncomfortable, but that soon slipped away from your mind when his lips latched to the inside of your thigh. Your breathing was ragged, breathy moans and whines falling from your lips as he left bites and marks all along your inner thighs.

Once he was satisfied with all of the marks, he moved down, blowing on your drenched pussy, watching as you clenched around nothing. Sunghoon gathered a ball of saliva in his mouth before letting it drop onto your clit, watching as it trailed down to join the abundance of slick. Your eyes watched his movements, lips tucked between your teeth. He then dived right into your pussy, licking a long stripe from your slit to your clit before harshly sucking on the bundle of nerves, eliciting a strangled moan from your lungs.

“Holy shit!” You cried out as your head flew back into his pillows, hips bucking into his face. Sparks flew across your vision as he held onto your hips, tight enough to halt any of your movements.

Sunghoon then trailed back down to your slit, sticking his tongue in, tasting your sweetness as it gushed out onto his tongue. He hummed at the taste, sending vibrations through your core and making you cry out his name, hands clenched into fists above your head. He continued to eat you out like a starved man while you were a whining mess under him, tugging on the restraints, hoping they would budge, but they didn’t.

“Hoon- fuck, please don’t stop.” You cried out, head falling back as he latched his lips to your clit once more, drawing patterns on the little button. The pillow under your head had your tears stains on it as the salty liquid continued to flow from your eyes at the instrumental amount of pleasure you were feeling.

You begged him not to stop as you felt that knot reappear once more, hoping that he would finally let you have that release. Sunghoon smirked against your core, listening to your choked pleas and moans. His movements didn’t let up as your body started to twitch, a tell-tale sign that you were close.

“Cum for me slut.” He growled against your skin; the mixture of the vibrations and his teeth slightly scraping against your clit had you toppling over the edge. Your body convulsed in his hold, toes curling behind his head and his name leaving your mouth in a borderline scream. It all just spurred your boyfriend on as he continued to devour you, easily throwing your body into overstimulation.

All of your body muscles tensed, and your shoulders grew sore from the angle at which they were placed. You were sure that your legs wouldn’t be usable the next day, nor would your voice, but that was a problem for future you to worry about. Right now, your brain is far too cloudy to think straight, pleasure drowning all of your senses.

A silent scream tore through your lips as Sunghoon placed the little vibrating egg against your clit. Your legs moved to snap close, but Sunghoon was quicker than that, grabbing hold of one of your thighs and keeping it in place. The mixture of the vibrations and his tongue buried in your cunt had your legs shaking by his head, another orgasm already on the horizon.

Inchohent moans and noises fell from your lips as he brought you over the edge once more, eyes squeezed shut. Sunghoon slurped up all of your juices, not leaving a single drop before pulling the vibrator away from your twitching clit. He then kissed the bundle of nerves, causing a small squeak to leave your lips. Your eyes then opened slowly, meeting Sunghoon’s eyes as he looked down at you with a smug look.

As he laid your body down, you could feel your muscles relaxing, and you closed your eyes, trying to catch your breath. However, your eyes snapped open when you felt the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance.

“You didn’t think we were done already, did you princess?” He chuckled, watching the shock on your face morph into pleasure as he slid in with little resistance. Your nails dug into the palm of your hand as a choked sob tore from your lungs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” The word fell from your lips in a rushed chant as Sunghoon’s hips started to slam against yours. “‘S too much, Hoon!” You cried out as your back arched off the bed.

“No, it’s not; just shut up and take it,” Sunghoon growled, hands holding onto your hips with a vice-like grip. A high-pitched squeal broke through your parted lips when his hand came up and wrapped around your throat once more, “who’s pussy is this? Who’s making you feel this good? Who do you belong to?”

“You.” The words choked through your lips, but that didn’t fully satisfy the male; no, he wanted to make sure everyone knew.

Leaning down, he ghosted his lips over yours, “Then say it.”

He then leaned back up and pounded into your sensitive cunt making your head spin, “Fuck! Yours, Sunghoon!” You screamed as your head fell back, missing the sadistic smirk on your boyfriend’s lips.

Sunghoon continued to thrust hard and deep into you, his pace never slowing, and you could already feel another orgasm creeping up. The words came out jumbled as you tried to warn him, his fingers squeezing the flesh on your neck.

You were clenching around his dick like crazy, causing him to groan, “fuck keep doing that, and I’m bound to breed this cunt of yours.” The words only made you clench around him again, making him chuckle, “You want that, don’t you? You want my seed filling your womb until you’re sure to get pregnant, huh?” You mewled at his words, fucked out eyes looking up to beg.

Seeing the expression on your face almost drove Sunghoon over the edge, your tear-stained cheeks and glossy eyes that were begging him to cum inside, then your swollen lips that were parted as you moaned out his name. Fuck he wasn’t going to last much longer. Taking his hand off of your neck, he moved down to press his thumb against your clit, circling it in tight circles. Your hips bucked at his touch as your nerves were set aflame once more. The knot in your stomach tightened to an unimaginable level, but this one felt different. Like your body was about to burst, but before you could even get the chance to warn Sunghoon, your orgasm hit. Your release gushes out in waves, coating your and his thighs. A loud pornographic moan fell from your lips, and Sunghoon cursed under his breath at the sight.

“You fucking squirted, you filthy whore.” He chastises you, his hips stuttering as he feels his high creeping up. A whine fell from your lips as he continued to fuck into you at a harsh pace until he finally tipped over the edge with a groan, painting your gummy wall white.

Sunghoon continued to rock his hips into yours, riding out his high before coming to a complete stop. His eyes squeezed shut, feeling you wrapped around his still semi-hard dick, milking him for all he was worth. Opening his eyes, he let the flutter down to where the two of you were still connected, groaning at the sight of the white ring around the base of his cock. He wanted to capture this moment. So he did.

Leaning over, he grabbed your phone, which had been haphazardly thrown to the side, before opening the camera, ignoring the article you had pulled up. You didn’t even realize what he was doing as you tried to catch your breath until you heard the shutter click. Your eyes opened at the noise, surprised to see your boyfriend aiming the camera down at where his dick was still sheathed inside of your cunt.

Sunghoon could feel himself grow hard again at the sight, wanting nothing more than to make a big mess of the two of you. Swiping on the screen, he switched to the video recorder and hit the little red button before rocking his hips against yours. A whimper fell from your lips as he continued to toy with your puffy cunt.

"Oh, I'm not done with you yet, baby…" he chuckled darkly, his eyes meeting yours. "Far from it."

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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sugarushwriting · 10 months ago

Text

ot7 vampire enhypen (part three). you are their personal (human) blood bank

ni-ki is out of his damn mind (sigh)

jungwon feeds on a human (you) for the first time

sfw with some nsfw innuendos and interactions (groping, making out)

please reblog, comment and like! but please do not repost or translate! not proof read.

next two parts may have some nsfw scenes

thank u for the love and support!

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

you, jungwon, and jay arrived at the hotel a little while ago to set your stuff in the rooms, then went straight to dinner in the hotel’s restaurant.

that’s when you learned jays father owned the hotel (and many others). and that him (his father) was rich. and that his father was still alive as an even older vampire.

“order whatever you want.” jay said to you and jungwon.

neither you or jungwon knew jungwon was feeding tonight. jay didn’t want either one of you nervous during dinner, making the conversation awkward.

you and jungwon only knew that ni-ki was out of his mind (your words not jays) and it wasn’t safe for you to be in the home. sunoo stayed back at the house, with jake and heeseung taking turns on watch to make sure he behaves (which they know he will, but they have to be safe). sunghoon had to stay back as an elder to keep an eye on ni-ki, but also, they were upping the antics used on him to quickly get the human lust out of his system. they didn’t want you there just in case you heard anything.

after dinner, you felt you could combust at any moment with how much you ate. jay made sure you ate.

the three of you took the elevator back up to the suite you were in. it had 2 separate bedrooms with an en-suite each, a huge balcony overlooking the city, a kitchen, and a living room. you looked up the price of the room on the hotels website and glad you were close with the CEO’s son. ($5,000 a night).

“i need you both to sit on the couch. i need to discuss something important with you two.” jay announced and it worried you and jungwon.

“what’s wrong?” you asked sitting on the big couch, and jungwon sat close to you. again, jay opted to sit on the coffee table in front of you both loosening his tie. oh fuck he looked good doing that.

“jungwon is going to feed on you tonight.” jay ripped the bandage off.

you and jungwon gasped. “jay, i—,”

“you’re ready.” jay cut off jungwon.

then you added with humor, “is that why you fattened me up?”

jay smiled. “i just made sure you ate well.”

you huffed. “why are you just now telling us? do the other boys know?”

“only sunghoon. we didn’t want you both nervous. and jake can’t keep his mouth shut so we decided against to tell any of the others until afterwards.”

“can i at least shower first?”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

after your shower, you dressed in another one of jays oversized shirts you took from his dresser. you opted out of boxers or pants, and kept it classy with a thong.

you walked out from jays room to the living room, both boys in a hushed conversation, but when they saw you, their attention turned to you.

“where do you want to be? living room or jungwon’s?” jay asked. “i was also thinking after your feed, you sleep in jungwon’s bed tonight. it’ll test his confidence in his ability to control himself.”

jungwon was shaking his head as if he had disagreed with the plan.

“i can do that.” you stated and looked at jungwon who looked at you surprised. you smiled. you trusted him.

“good. you’ll keep the door unlocked. if anything goes wrong i will be able to sense and hear it and i’ll be by your side in a flash.”

you nodded. “okay.”

all three of you went to jungwon’s room, and you laid down.

“how—how do the other guys typically do it?” jungwon asked.

you smiled, sitting up on your arms trying to ease his mind. “well first, where do you want to feed? jays favorite place is classic, my neck. heeseung prefers my hip or waist, or my sides. sunghoon and jake prefer my upper thighs.” you explained.

you lifted your shirt to show the upper part of your thighs. “sunghoon is pretty possessive over my right thigh, but you can share the left with jake if you want.”

“are you sure jake won’t get possessive?” jay snorted.

“i can handle jake.” you said. “so where do you want to feed jungwon?”

“why do you chose the neck?” jungwon asked and looked to jay.

jay blushed and scratched the back of his head. “uh—it’s more intimate.”

“he does it while we’re having sex.” you said, not embarrassed at all.

here’s the thing, you are their blood bank, you are okay with that. but you’re not their sex toy, and jay made sure to get that through your head. if you wanted to have sex with them, fine, but you didn’t have to.

jay was the only one you’ve had full sex with, as you figured out he likes to feed after your orgasm cause it lessens the pain.

jake and sunghoon have both been between your legs, and it wasn’t just to feed.

jungwon swallowed. “i’ll take the left thigh.”

you smiled, “good choice.”

you laid back down, as jay assisted jungwon in making sure to find a thick part of your thigh. jungwon gave a kiss to your inner thigh, but not as close as jake and sunghoon like to be.

“her body will tell you when you’re done. you need to listen to her, not yourself.” jay stated. “if you get out of control, which i doubt you will, i will force you off of her. you may get upset as you’ll be driven by lust.”

jungwon nodded listening attentively.

“hold my hand.” you said to jungwon and he did. “i’ll let you know.”

jungwon was excited but nervous. his first human feed as a newbie. your blood always smelt so fresh, so sweet, so good to him. he couldn’t explain it. it was a different smell, and as the olders explained, you were a different and better taste too.

jungwon kissed your thigh once more, you squeezed his hand in reassurance, and jungwon’s eyes changed and his fangs dropped. his teeth grazed your skin before it broke through.

you immediately groaned in pain, but soon it felt pleasurable as usual. since jungwon was new, he fed a little harsher, through his lips and teeth.

after a few minutes, jungwon felt your body feel different. it’s done. but his mind was telling him not to stop. to drain you of all your blood. or to turn you into what he was.

“jungwon.” jay warned, but jungwon’s ears weren’t listening.

his body and mind wasn’t either. until he heard you.

“wonie, that’s enough.” you sighed through pleasure and squeezed his hand.

he stopped. he reluctantly removed his teeth, instinctively licking where his teeth once were, and kissed it softly. his forehead soon rested against your thigh.

you ran your hand through his hair. “you did good, jungwon.” you praised. jungwon smiled and chuckled.

he looked up at you. then he looked at jay who looked like a proud dad.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

that night you slept in jungwon’s bed with him comfortably. that was until you woke up to him hovering over you, his eyes had turned red. however, the fangs weren’t out.

“jungwon?” you questioned, and he groaned. he groaned like he was in pain and leaned in closer to inhale your scent from your neck. he kissed your neck then sank his human teeth as he nibbled.

it startled you and you yelped. he leaned up eyes staring right at you, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.

his hand gripped your thigh—hard. “ouch, jungwon.” you groaned and he smiled.

shit.

before you knew it, he pulled your shirt up, and ripped your thong off, his nose going straight to your inner thigh where he last fed.

jay came through the door, but you held out a hand to stop him, and jay listened.

“wonie, look at me.” you pleaded. jungwon looked at you with his red eyes, before his nose ran up your body has he inhaled you.

jay went to move, but you stopped him again. jungwon’s attention turned to jay, and he literally snarled.

“wonie, look at me!” you repeated and took his head in your hands to make eye contact once again. “wonie, are you hungry or do you just miss my taste?”

jungwon closed his eyes, internally battling with himself. “taste—i miss your taste.” he cried through his teeth. he was fighting himself, literally.

“then taste me.” you said, and brought jungwon’s lips to your own.

the kiss was anything but romantic. jungwon was craving you, craving your taste. he was animalistic with the kisses, dominate, often taking your bottom lip in between his teeth.

all while, he was grinding his lower half into you. well, his hard lower half.

you moaned into the kiss, and jungwon took the opportunity to stick his tongue inside your mouth searching for your own tongue. you whimpered just as he used his hands to grab all over your body. he was harshly gripping your thighs, stomach, hips, ass, breasts, anywhere and everywhere as he grinded against your lower half with his. he had a barrier, you didn’t.

the messy make out session didn’t last much longer, as jungwon started to whimper himself, and he stopped grinding as his mouth moved to your neck, stopping the kissing altogether as he took deep breaths.

“it’s ok wonie.” you patted his back and rubbed it. he shook his head.

“im sorry, im sorry, im sorry.” he kept repeating and sniffled. he was still hard as a rock but didn’t move.

“it’s okay—,” you began but again he shook his head.

“jungwon.” jay stated using his authoritative tone.

jungwon got up, “i’ll go shower.” and he immediately ran to his en suite bathroom.

jay quickly came to your side, checking you out. “why did you stop me? it could’ve gone really south.”

“but it didn’t.” you challenged. “you trusted him for a reason and so did i, jay. he stopped. he didn’t feed further, okay?”

“do you want to come sleep with me?”

you shook your head no. “i’m fine jay, i promise.” you told truthfully. you also didn’t want to hurt jungwon, thinking you didn’t trust him anymore.

jay left, and you turned your back to the bathroom, shutting your eyes once more. jungwon’s shower was quick, redressing in nothing more than pajama pants. he smiled at your sleeping figure still in his bed. he got in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissed the back of your neck.

“thank you.” he whispered and you turned to face him, giving him a quick peck on his cheek.

“didn’t know you were so dominating in bed.” you teased and jungwon laughed with a flush to his cheeks.

he rubbed his hand up and down your arm in a soothing gesture. “i’m sorry about that.”

“what matters is that you stopped.” you moved a fringe of his hair. your hand rested on his cheek as you moved your thumb back and forth. you finally took note of his naked chest and smiled. “nice shoulders.” you complimented.

“sorry about your thong.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the next afternoon you three returned to the house. earlier that morning, the university released a statement stating that the incident with the student was an isolated incident and no further danger was present. classes would resume after the weekend.

“what if ni-ki isn’t better?”

“then we kill him.” sunghoon stated with a straight face. you didn’t find him funny.

“he’ll go to a boarding school for newbies who don’t listen.” jay offered as a solution instead.

“that exist?” you and sunoo both asked at the same time.

jay nodded. “yes, in switzerland. my father is on the board of trustees.”

“wait, if you all are up here,”

“he’s fine by himself for now. we knocked him out with something to shut his ass up while his body detoxes.”

“sunghoon!” you scolded.

“any way,” jake changes the subject, “how was the night away at the fancy hotel?”

“it was good.” you and jungwon both said together, then looked at each other and smiled.

“jungwon fed on her.” jay said. “he did good controlling himself. and she did good keeping him grounded.”

“no way!” jakes thick accent came out as he clapped jungwon on the shoulder. “how was it? where did you feed?”

“her thigh.”

“better not be the right thigh.” sunghoon stated, eyes narrowed.

“and the left is better?” jake questioned. “how come you get a thigh to yourself?”

“i’m an elder.”

“alright old man.” jake teased.

“was it scary” sunoo asked jungwon.

jungwon shook his head. “not like i thought.”

you patted jungwon’s head, “he did good and didn’t hurt me.” you smiled.

then jungwon suddenly remembered, “did yall know jay only feeds when he’s being intimate with her?”

you snorted at jungwon saying intimate like he was scared to say the word sex.

jay and heeseung look surprised. sunoo looked disgusted like it was way tmi. sunghoon wasn’t fazed.

“sadly i did.”

you looked at sunghoon confused. you were never loud.

“baby doll, vampire hearing.”

“well shit.”

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

412 notes · View notes

jaystardust · 1 year ago

Text

‎𖦹 ༘⋆𓇼ִ ࣪🐚⋆｡ LIKE HOT SUMMER

Pairing: sim Jake x fem!reader, ft. lee heeseung, sungchan of riize

Genre: brother best friend, beach au, fluff, angst

Warnings: angst, suggestive, sungchan is kind of a toxic ex, cheating, alcohol consumption, slut shaming...

Summary: After a tough school year and a heartbreaking breakup, you escape to a beach house with your brother Heeseung and his best friend Jake. Amidst sun-soaked days and ocean waves, you find an unexpected connection with Jake growing stronger. Just as you begin to heal, an unexpected event stirs up unresolved emotions and complicates your summer retreat.

Words count: 9.4K

The feeling of sea salt drying on your skin, the light breeze flowing through your hair, and the hot sand beneath your feet can seem so near yet so far at the same time.

It was your last day of exams before the summer break, and to be honest, some vacation was needed. It's been a tough year, and as intense as it sounds, it's been hard to combine classes with your part-time job. You were working at a coffee shop near the campus, which was exhausting. That's where you met your boyfriend, Sungchan, well... ex-boyfriend.

The break-up was still fresh, so fresh that you had trouble getting used to it, or at least realizing it.

A week ago, when you had to go to your shift – an unscheduled shift, as you had to replace a colleague – you caught your boyfriend hooking up with one of your colleagues in the supply room... very hygienic, by the way…

As luck had decided not to be on your side on this one, and as if you hadn't already had enough, this summer's vacation would be spent with Sungchan. The trip to Greece you'd been looking forward to had fallen through, and so had the money you'd put into it. Neither the ticket nor the hotel was refundable so close to departure. And it was out of the picture to spend time in the presence of your ex, even if the sea at hand would have been a wonderful opportunity to drown him.

As your older brother, Heeseung, noticed that you were feeling down about not having any plans for the summer due to your recent break-up, he came up with an idea. He knew how hard you had worked all year to make the most of your summer, and it was difficult for him to see you feeling that way.

That's why he offered you to spend the vacation with him and his best friend Jake at the beach. His best friend had invited him many times to his family's beach house. So when Heeseung mentioned your situation to him, he immediately asked if you would like to join them.

You were not very well acquainted with Jake, but you truly appreciated this thoughtful gesture. Even if you knew that he probably just did it to help his best friend, or at least to help him get some peace of mind so he could have a blast all summer with him.

After considering it for some time, you concluded that this well-deserved vacation was a great idea. You'll have all the time you need to unwind and put your break-up out of your mind, even if it means sharing the space with your brother and his best friend. While they are out enjoying themselves, whether by getting drunk or getting laid, topics that hold no interest to you.

---

Sitting on your suitcase so that it could close was not a solution, and yet there were plenty of movies where you'd seen people do it. The only way out was to get some stuff out of it, but that was not an option. The number of outfits you had planned for this trip was not negotiable with the size of your suitcase. And that's why you finally decided to add another travel bag

The boys had already arrived at the beach house, it was agreed that you would join them shortly after their arrival. They'd had to go there a few days before because of some big campfire party on the beach or something like that, but to be honest, you hadn't followed it up. You were too busy organizing your bikini collection when Heeseung came to tell you about their supposedly amazing program.

The plan was for you to take the bus-- the perks of being broke --and for Heeseung to pick you up at the nearest bus station. Knowing that the journey was going to take some time, you took along a book, earplugs, and a sleep mask. Not wanting to be disturbed during the nap you were about to take. It had been an emotional week, and you'd lost count of the sleepless nights you'd spent studying or crying over the fact that you'd been cheated on...

The bus ride seemed to stretch endlessly, with the rumble of the engine and the gentle swaying of the vehicle creating a soothing backdrop for some well-deserved rest. As the miles passed by, you found yourself drifting off into a peaceful slumber, finally able to catch up on the sleep that had eluded you for so long.

When you finally arrived at the small coastal town, you were surprised to find that Heeseung was not waiting for you at the station. Instead, you spotted Jake leaning against his car with a relaxed smile, ready to greet you.

You wiped away any trace of surprise from your face to avoid appearing hostile. You grinned back at him as you struggled towards him with your luggage.

Seeing you struggling with your bags, Jake reacted immediately and came to help you by taking both of them off your hands. "Hey! Let me help you with that."

He lifted them with ease, and it was hard not to notice his biceps flexing as he carried them. You thanked him for this gesture and followed him to his car. You couldn't help but notice the sun-kissed glow on his skin, evidence of the few days he had spent outdoors. His arms, displayed in a sleeveless shirt, revealed his noticeable nice tan.

As you gazed at him, you silently thanked yourself for wearing sunglasses. You didn't want to appear too intrusive, but couldn't help but admire him. The way the ocean breeze played with his hair and the sunlight kissed his skin was simply perfect.

"Hope the ride wasn't too rough," Jake said as he loaded your bags into the trunk. "Heeseung got caught up with a bad hangover, so he asked me to pick you up instead."

"Thank you, Jake. It was fine. Just long," you replied, sliding into the passenger seat.

As you both made your way to the beach house, you couldn't help but admire the short yet scenic drive, with the picturesque coastline providing a perfect backdrop. Despite the beautiful view, your mind kept wandering back to Jake. Heeseung's best friend was even more attractive than you could remember, and his easygoing smile made your heart skip a beat.

The beach house surpassed all expectations with its charming white-washed walls, expansive windows that flooded the rooms with natural light, and an awe-inspiring panoramic view of the ocean. Upon arrival, Jake graciously assisted you with your luggage and guided you to your beautifully appointed room.

"This is your room. Make yourself at home," he said, opening the door to a cozy room with a large window overlooking the beach. The walls were painted a soft, calming blue, and the bed was piled high with fluffy white pillows and a matching comforter.

"I hope you'll find it comfortable. If you need anything, my room is right next door."

"It’s perfect, thank you," you said, admiring the view of the sun beginning to set over the water.

Jake's warm smile lingered in the doorway as he extended an invitation. "We're having a barbecue tonight. You should join us," he said.

"I'd love that," you replied, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. The idea of spending the evening with Jake and Heeseung sounded wonderful.

As the sun began to set, you changed into a light sundress and joined the group outside. The backyard of the beach house was spacious, with a wooden deck that led down to the sandy beach. String lights were hung around the area, casting a warm, inviting glow. Heeseung, looking a bit worse for wear from his hangover, was manning the grill, while Jake was setting up a bonfire nearby. The sound of laughter and the smell of grilling food filled the air, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a sense of peace.

"Hey, you made it!" Heeseung exclaimed with a wide grin as he caught sight of you. "Feeling better?"

"Much better," you replied, sinking into the chair beside Jake, who handed you a plate of delicious food.

"You look great," Jake remarked, his gaze lingering on the delicate fabric of your sundress before meeting your eyes with a warm smile. "I hope you're hungry. We've got plenty of food."

"I am, actually. Thanks," you said, feeling a pleasant flutter in your stomach at his compliment.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself drawn to Jake's easygoing nature and genuine kindness. The conversation flowed effortlessly between the three of you, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like yourself again.

But beneath the surface, there was a tension brewing, a silent acknowledgment of the forbidden nature of your growing attraction to Jake. Heeseung may have been your brother, but there was an unspoken rule about his best friend being off-limits.

As the night wore on, the deep navy sky was adorned with twinkling stars, creating a mesmerizing spectacle overhead. Despite the enchanting atmosphere, you couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to be closer to Jake. But you pushed those thoughts aside, reminding yourself of the complications that would arise if you were to act on your feelings.

You thought of every shared laugh and exchanged glances, the connection between you two only grew stronger, deepening with every passing moment. And for the first time in days, you went to bed thinking about things other than your breakup.

The next morning, the sound of waves crashing against the shore and the faint calls of seagulls served as your natural alarm clock. You stretched languidly in bed, feeling more rested than you had in weeks. The gentle warmth of the morning sun filtered through the curtains, inviting you to start your day.

You took your time getting ready, savoring the peace and quiet. The beach house was still and calm, the boys probably still asleep or nursing their hangovers. After slipping into a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, you headed downstairs to find some breakfast.

In the kitchen, you found Jake already up, sipping on a cup of coffee and scrolling on his phone. He looked up as you entered, his face breaking into a smile.

"Morning," he greeted, setting his mug down. "I made some coffee. Want some?"

"Yes, please," you replied, returning his smile. "Thanks."

He poured you a cup and handed it to you. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I have in a long time," you admitted, taking a sip of the rich, aromatic coffee. "This place is amazing."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it," he said, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "We were worried you might find it a bit overwhelming, especially after everything you've been through."

You appreciated his concern but shook your head. "No, this is exactly what I needed. Thank you for inviting me."

Jake shrugged modestly. "It was the least we could do."

You both fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying your coffee and the tranquil morning atmosphere. Heeseung stumbled wearily into the kitchen, with his tousled hair and bleary eyes. Despite his fatigue, he wore a warm smile.

"Morning, sunshine," you teased, watching as he squinted at the bright light streaming in through the windows.

"Ugh, morning," he grumbled, reaching for a cup of coffee. "What are you guys up to today?"

"I was thinking of going for a swim," Jake said, glancing at you. "You up for it?"

"Absolutely," you replied, feeling a thrill of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him.

The water was refreshingly cool against your skin as you waded into the ocean. Jake was already out further, diving into the waves with ease. Heeseung had chosen to remain at the house, still recovering from his rough night and promising to join you later.

You took a deep breath and dove under the crystal-clear water, feeling the stress of the past few weeks melt away. When you resurfaced, Jake was gracefully swimming towards you, his radiant smile contrasting against the dazzling backdrop of the sparkling sea.

"This is perfect," you said, floating on your back and looking up at the clear blue sky.

"Yeah, it is," Jake agreed, floating beside you. "I'm glad you came here."

You turned your head to look at him, feeling a rush of affection for the boy who had shown you such kindness. "Me too."

For a while, you both just floated there, enjoying the serenity of the moment. Then, Jake's playful side emerged as he splashed you with water, making you laugh.

"Hey!" you protested, splashing him back.

A water fight ensued, full of laughter and playful shouts. It was a liberating feeling, letting go of your worries and just having fun. After a while, you both retreated to the shore, exhausted but happy.

You collapsed onto the sand, catching your breath. Jake sat beside you, his damp hair glistening in the sunlight.

"Thanks for that," you said, looking over at him. "I haven't had that much fun in ages."

"Anytime," he replied, his gaze meeting yours. There was a moment of silence, the air between you charged with unspoken feelings.

Before you could say anything, Heeseung appeared on the deck, waving you both over. "Lunch is ready!"

Reluctantly, you got up and followed Jake back to the house. The rest of the day passed in a blur of delicious food, beach games, and laughter. However, as the sun began to set, you found yourself drawn to Jake once more.

That evening, as the sky turned shades of orange and pink, you found yourself sitting on the beach with Jake. Heeseung had retired early, leaving the two of you alone.

"Tell me something about you I don't know," Jake said suddenly, his gaze fixed on the horizon.

You thought for a moment. "I used to want to be a marine biologist when I was a kid," you confessed. "I loved the ocean and everything in it."

Jake smiled. "I can see that. You seem so at peace here."

"Yeah," you agreed, feeling a pang of nostalgia. "What about you? Any childhood dreams?"

"I wanted to be a pilot," he said with a chuckle. "Flying seemed like the ultimate freedom."

"Do you still want that?" you asked, curious.

"Not really," he admitted. "I've found other passions."

"Like what?"

"Like music," he said, surprising you. "I love playing the guitar. It’s become a big part of who I am."

"I had no idea," you said, genuinely intrigued. "You'll have to play for me sometime."

"I'd like that," he said, his eyes meeting yours. There was a warmth in his gaze that made your heart race.

The moment stretched out, filled with possibilities. You wanted to lean in, to close the distance between you. But the fear of what it might mean held you back.

Instead, you just smiled at him, "It's getting late. We should probably head back."

Jake nodded, though a subtle flicker of disappointment crossed his face. "Yeah, you're right."

As you walked back to the house, the tension between you remained, simmering just below the surface. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to wonder what it would be like to give in to that tension, to see where it might lead.

The days at the beach house began to blend in a blissful routine. Mornings started with coffee and easy conversation with Jake, followed by long, lazy afternoons spent on the beach. Heeseung often joined you two, but there were moments when it was just you and Jake, and those were the times you cherished the most.

One evening, after another barbecue dinner, Jake suggested a walk along the beach. The air was cool and refreshing, and the moon cast a silver glow over the water.

You walked in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the gentle crash of waves and the occasional call of a seagull.

"Can I ask you something?" Jake's voice broke the silence, his tone tentative.

"Of course," you replied, curious.

"How are you really doing? With everything that's happened... with Sungchan," he said, his eyes searching yours.

You sighed, looking out at the ocean. "It's been tough. I thought I was over it, but being here, away from everything, has made me realize how much it still hurts."

Jake nodded, his expression sympathetic. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. You deserve so much better."

"Thanks, Jake," you said softly, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "It's getting easier, though. Being here helps. You and Heeseung have made it better."

"I'm glad we could help," he said, his voice sincere.

You continued walking, your hands brushing occasionally as you walked close together. Each touch sent a spark of electricity through you, and you couldn't deny the growing attraction you felt for Jake. But you also knew that pursuing anything with him could complicate things, especially with Heeseung being your brother.

Later that night, after the walk, everyone decided to sit on the deck and have a few drinks. The sound of laughter filled the air as they shared stories and reminisced about old times. The stars overhead twinkled brightly, creating a perfect backdrop for the evening.

After several drinks, you felt the alcohol coursing through your veins, making you bolder and more carefree. Heeseung had already stumbled off to bed, leaving you and Jake alone under the stars.

After a short while, Jake noticed you yawning and realized it was time to tuck you into bed.

"Jake..." you slurred slightly as you made your way through the room, leaning closer to him. "You told me that if I needed anything, your room was next door. Do you remember?"

"Yes, of course, Y/N," Jake replied, his brow furrowing with concern. "What do you need?"

You looked at him, your eyes filled with a mix of longing and desperation. "I need you."

Jake's eyes widened, and he took a step back, his face conflicted. "Y/N, you're drunk. I can't—"

"Please," you whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

Jake gently took your hand, his expression pained. "I can't, Y/N. Not like this. You're not thinking clearly, and I don't want to do anything we'll regret."

Tears filled your eyes as you nodded, understanding his reluctance. "Okay," you whispered, pulling your hand away. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," he said gently, his voice filled with concern. "Let's get you to bed, okay?"

He kindly ushered you through your room, making sure you were comfortable before he left. Ensuring that you were settled in before bidding you goodnight. As you lay in bed, the events of the night unfolded in your mind like a vivid movie, and you found yourself experiencing a complex blend of embarrassment and relief.

Jake had done the right thing, even though it stung in the moment. You knew that you needed to sort out your feelings and find a way to move forward without the haze of alcohol clouding your judgment. And as you drifted off to sleep, you resolved to face your emotions head-on, knowing that Jake would be there to support you, no matter what.

The next morning, you woke up with a slight headache, the events of the previous night replaying in your mind. You cringed at the memory of your drunken confession to Jake and wondered how you would face him. Taking a deep breath, you got out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, hoping a strong cup of coffee would help you feel more human.

When you entered the kitchen, you found Jake already there, making breakfast. He looked up and smiled warmly at you. "Morning. How are you feeling?"

You managed a small smile in return. "A bit hungover, but I'll survive. Thanks for helping me last night."

Jake poured you a cup of coffee and handed it to you. "No problem. How about some breakfast? Might help with the hangover."

You nodded, grateful for his kindness. As you sat down, you couldn't help but notice the way he moved around the kitchen with ease, his presence comforting.

After a few moments of silence, you decided to address the elephant in the room. "Jake, about last night... I'm sorry if I made things awkward."

Jake sat down across from you, his expression gentle. "You don't need to apologize, Y/N. I understand. You were vulnerable, and the alcohol didn't help. But I'm glad we didn't do anything we might regret."

You nodded, appreciating his honesty. "Thank you for that. I guess I was just feeling a bit lost."

"It's understandable," he said, reaching out to squeeze your hand briefly. "But we're here for you. And I'm here for you, as your friend."

His words brought a sense of comfort, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. "Thanks, Jake. I appreciate it."

The rest of the day was spent in a relaxed manner, with you, Jake and Heeseung enjoying the beach and each other's company. The awkwardness from the previous night slowly faded away, replaced by a renewed sense of camaraderie.

One evening, a few days later, you found yourself sitting on the beach alone, watching the sunset. The colors were breathtaking, and the gentle sound of the waves provided a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. You had been reflecting on your time at the beach house, the moments shared with Jake, and how much you had grown to care for him.

As if on cue, Jake appeared beside you, sitting down on the sand. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," you replied, smiling at him.

You both sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the sun dip below the horizon. Finally, Jake broke the silence. "I've been thinking a lot about what you said the other night."

You turned to look at him, your heart beating a little faster. "You have?"

He nodded, his gaze steady. "Yeah. And I want you to know that my feelings for you haven't changed. I care about you, Y/N, more than just as Heeseung's sister."

Your breath caught in your throat. "Jake..."

Before you could respond, a voice interrupted the moment. "Y/N?"

You turned to see Sungchan standing a few feet away, looking awkward and out of place. "Sungchan? What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you," he said, his eyes darting between you and Jake. "I realized I made a huge mistake, and I want to make things right."

Jake tensed beside you, his jaw clenched. "I don't think now is the time, Sungchan." You answered.

Sungchan ignored him, focusing on you. "Please, Y/N. I know I messed up, but I still love you. Can we at least talk?"

You felt a wave of conflicting emotions. Part of you wanted to tell him to leave, but another part of you felt a need to get closure. "Fine. Let's talk, but not here. Jake, I'll be back soon."

Jake's eyes softened as he nodded, though you noticed a flicker of frustration in his expression. "Okay. I'll be here if you need me."

You walked a short distance away with Sungchan, just far enough to have a private conversation. "What do you want to say, Sungchan?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes filled with regret. "I know I hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I was an idiot, and I don't expect you to forgive me right away, but I want to try and make things right. I miss you."

You shook your head, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. "Sungchan, you cheated on me. You broke my trust, and that's not something you can just fix with an apology."

"I know," he said, his voice cracking. "But I want to try. Please, Y/N."

You looked back towards Jake, who was watching you from a distance, his expression unreadable. Turning back to Sungchan, you sighed. "I don't know, Sungchan. You've hurt me so much. Being here has helped me start to heal, and I don’t want to lose that progress."

"I understand," he said, his shoulders slumping. "But I love you, Y/N. I do. I was a fool, and I want to prove that I can change."

You felt a pang of confusion and hesitation. You had loved Sungchan deeply, and part of you still did. But the betrayal was a wound that hadn't fully healed. "I need time, Sungchan. I can't just jump back into things."

He nodded slowly. "I'll give you time. But please, think about it."

You watched him walk away, feeling a strange sense of relief mixed with uncertainty. Returning to Jake, you sat back down beside him, the weight of the conversation heavy on your shoulders.

"Are you okay?" Jake asked, his voice filled with concern.

"I don't know," you replied honestly. "Sungchan wants to make things right, and part of me still cares about him. But I don’t know if I can ever trust him again."

Jake's jaw tightened, and you saw a flash of jealousy in his eyes. "He hurt you, Y/N. Don't forget that."

You sighed, leaning into him for support. "I know. It's just... complicated."

Jake wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "It's okay to be confused. Take the time you need to figure things out."

You appreciated Jake's comforting presence and the warmth of his embrace. The waves continued their rhythmic dance, and the stars began to twinkle above, casting a serene glow on the beach. The complexities of your feelings for Sungchan and Jake weighed heavily on your mind, but you knew that rushing into any decision wouldn't be wise. For now, you decided to enjoy the tranquility of the moment, enveloped in Jake's comforting presence.

–--

The next morning, you woke up with a renewed sense of clarity. You decided that while Sungchan deserved a chance to explain himself, you needed to focus on your own healing first. You couldn't rush back into a relationship that had caused you so much pain without giving yourself the time to fully understand your own feelings.

You took a deep breath and stepped out onto the deck, the salty breeze playing with your hair and the sound of waves crashing against the shore providing a soothing background. Heeseung and Jake were already there, chatting and enjoying their morning coffee. The sight of Jake made your heart flutter, but you reminded yourself to stay focused on your own well-being.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Heeseung greeted with a grin. "We were starting to think you'd never wake up."

"Good morning," you replied, smiling as you grabbed a cup of coffee and joined them. "I just needed a little extra sleep."

Jake's eyes met yours, a spark of warmth and something deeper lingering in his gaze. "Sleep is important. You deserve all the rest you need."

You felt a rush of gratitude for his support. Despite the complicated emotions swirling within you, you felt a sense of peace being there, surrounded by the calming waves and the company of people who genuinely cared about you.

The day was spent enjoying the simple pleasures of the beach. You, Heeseung, and Jake walked along the shoreline, the sand warm beneath your feet and the ocean breeze tangling in your hair. The rhythmic sound of the waves provided a soothing backdrop as you explored the coast, collecting seashells and marveling at the intricate patterns etched into each one.

Jake found a particularly beautiful shell, its surface iridescent and shimmering in the sunlight. He handed it to you with a soft smile. "This one's for you. It reminds me of you – beautiful and unique."

You blushed, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thank you, Jake. It's lovely."

Heeseung interrupted the moment with a playful shout. "Hey, look at this one!" He held up a large, conch-shaped shell and blew into it, producing a surprisingly loud sound. You and Jake burst into laughter, the sound mingling with the crashing waves.

As you continued walking, the three of you came across a smooth stretch of beach perfect for skipping stones. Heeseung, ever the competitive one, challenged you and Jake to see who could skip a stone the farthest.

"I used to be the champion of skipping stones," Heeseung declared with a grin, selecting a flat stone and expertly sending it skimming across the water's surface.

"Challenge accepted," Jake replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He picked up a stone, giving you a quick, encouraging glance before sending it flying with a flick of his wrist. The stone bounced across the water, outdistancing Heeseung's.

"Not bad," you said, smiling at Jake. You chose a stone and took your turn, but it only skipped a couple of times before sinking. "Okay, maybe I need a bit more practice."

Jake laughed and moved closer to you, his hand brushing against yours as he handed you another stone. "Here, let me show you."

You felt a jolt of electricity at his touch, your heart racing as he positioned himself behind you, his arms guiding yours in the correct motion. "Just like this," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. Together, you sent the stone skipping across the water, this time managing several bounces before it sank.

"Much better," Jake said, his voice filled with pride.

You turned to face him, your heart pounding. His eyes lingered on yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. The connection between you was undeniable, and it left you both exhilarated and terrified.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the heat became more intense, and you decided to take a swim. The water was refreshingly cool against your sun-warmed skin, and you relished the feeling of weightlessness as you floated on your back, staring up at the clear blue sky.

Jake swam over to you, his presence both comforting and electrifying. The way the sunlight danced on the surface of the water reflected in his eyes, making them appear even more captivating.

"This feels good," you said, smiling at him, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

"Yeah, it does," he replied, his voice soft. "Being here with you makes it even better."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt a rush of emotions. You were acutely aware of his proximity, the water doing little to diminish the heat between you. But before you could respond, Heeseung called out from the shore, waving you over to join him for a game of beach volleyball.

Reluctantly, you and Jake swam back to the shore. As you reached the shallows, Jake offered you his hand to help you out of the water. You hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it, feeling the strength and warmth of his grip as he pulled you up.

"Let's show Heeseung what we've got," Jake said with a wink, his playful confidence infectious.

The three of you set up a makeshift volleyball court using driftwood and an old fishing net Heeseung had found. The game was filled with laughter and friendly banter, the competitive spirit between you all making it even more enjoyable.

Despite your best efforts, Heeseung's volleyball skills were impressive, and he quickly took the lead. Jake, however, was determined not to let him win without a fight. He dove for the ball with impressive agility, his athleticism on full display.

At one point, Jake managed a spectacular save, sending the ball soaring back over the net. He landed in the sand beside you, grinning up at you as he caught his breath. "Not bad, huh?"

"Show-off," you teased, unable to keep the admiration out of your voice.

As the game continued, you found yourself growing more comfortable, the tension between you and Jake easing into a natural rhythm. The playful competition brought out the best in all of you, and for a while, you were able to forget the complexities of your emotions and just enjoy the moment.

By the time you all collapsed onto the sand, sweaty and out of breath, the sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon. Heeseung declared himself the winner with a triumphant grin, while you and Jake laughed and applauded his victory.

"Okay, okay, you win," Jake conceded, still smiling. "But next time, we'll be ready for you."

Heeseung laughed, patting Jake on the back. "We'll see about that. Good game, guys."

As you lay on the sand, watching the sky change colors, Jake turned to you with a thoughtful expression. "Thanks for today, Y/N. It was fun."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the sun. "Yeah, it was. I'm glad we did this."

Jake's eyes lingered on yours, and for a moment, you felt that familiar spark between you. But before either of you could say anything, Heeseung called out, suggesting you head back to the house for dinner.

You got up, brushing the sand off your legs and following Heeseung. Jake walked beside you, his shoulder occasionally bumping against yours in a way that felt both accidental and deliberate. Each touch sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to close the distance between you and let yourself fall into his embrace.

Dinner was a casual affair, with Heeseung manning the grill and Jake helping to prepare the sides. You set the table on the deck, the warm evening air filled with the scent of grilling meat and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

As you all sat down to eat, the conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and stories from the day. Jake's hand brushed against yours under the table, and you felt a rush of heat at the contact. He didn't pull away, his fingers lingering against yours in a way that felt both comforting and tantalizing.

After dinner, you all decided to take a walk along the beach. The moon had risen, casting a silvery glow over the water and turning the sand into a sparkling carpet. You walked between Jake and Heeseung, the three of you talking and laughing, the day's events still fresh in your minds.

At one point, Heeseung stopped to examine a particularly interesting shell, giving you and Jake a moment of privacy. You turned to Jake, your heart racing as you met his gaze.

"Today was amazing," you said softly, feeling the intensity of his stare.

"It was," he agreed, his voice low. "I wish every day could be like this."

You felt a pang of longing at his words, the same longing reflected in his eyes. Before you could respond, Heeseung called out, showing you the shell he'd found. The moment was broken, but the connection between you and Jake remained, a silent promise of what could be.

That night, as you lay in bed, you replayed the events of the day in your mind. The way Jake's eyes lingered on you, the feel of his hand brushing against yours, the electric charge of his touch. You couldn't deny the growing attraction between you, but you also knew that you needed time to sort out your feelings.

You drifted off to sleep with thoughts of Jake, the warmth of his presence a comforting balm to your soul. For the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of hope, a belief that things could get better.

–

The next morning, you woke up with a mix of determination and dread. You had agreed to meet Sungchan today to discuss what had happened, but the thought of facing him made your stomach churn. You knew it was necessary to get closure and to move on, but it didn't make it any easier.

As you stepped out onto the deck, you found Jake and Heeseung already there, enjoying their morning coffee. The sight of Jake brought a sense of comfort, but also a flutter of nerves. He looked up, his eyes filled with concern as he noticed the tension in your expression.

"Morning," Jake said softly, his gaze lingering on you.

"Morning," you replied, forcing a smile. "I'm meeting Sungchan today."

Jake's jaw tightened slightly, a flicker of jealousy crossing his eyes. "Do you want me to come with you?"

You shook your head, appreciating the offer but knowing you needed to face this on your own. "Thanks, Jake. But I think I need to do this by myself."

He nodded, his expression softening. "Just know that I'm here if you need me."

With a deep breath, you left the beach house and headed to the café where you had agreed to meet Sungchan. The walk seemed to take forever, each step weighed down by the impending confrontation. When you arrived, you saw Sungchan sitting at a table, looking uncomfortable and out of place.

"Y/N," he greeted, standing up as you approached. "Thanks for coming."

"Let's get this over with," you said, taking a seat across from him.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence. Sungchan fidgeted with his cup, avoiding your gaze. Finally, he spoke. "I know I messed up, Y/N. And I'm really sorry. I want to make things right."

You sighed, feeling the weight of his words but also the anger and hurt they couldn't erase. "Sungchan, you cheated on me. You broke my trust. I'm not sure there's any way to make that right."

He looked up, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and something darker. "I know I made a mistake, but it feels like you've moved on pretty quickly. I saw how you were acting with Jake."

His words stung, the accusation laced with jealousy and bitterness. "Jake has been a good friend to me, that's all."

Sungchan's expression hardened. "Really? Because it sure looked like more than that. You were practically throwing yourself at him. It's like you couldn't wait to get over me."

Anger flared in your chest. "That's not fair, Sungchan. You don't get to judge how I handle my feelings after what you did."

He leaned forward, his voice low and harsh. "Maybe if you hadn't been so easy to replace, I wouldn't have looked elsewhere."

The words hit you like a slap, leaving you breathless with shock and hurt. "How dare you."

"Just calling it like I see it," he said, his tone dripping with disdain. "You were all over Jake. Maybe you were just looking for an excuse."

Tears filled your eyes, the pain of his words cutting deep. "I don't have to listen to this." You stood up abruptly, knocking over your chair in your haste to leave.

"You know I'm right," he called after you, but you didn't look back.

You walked back to the beach house, tears streaming down your face. You tried to compose yourself before you arrived, but the emotions were too overwhelming. As you reached the door, you quickly wiped your eyes, hoping no one would notice. But as you stepped inside, Jake was there, his eyes immediately locking onto yours.

"Y/N, what happened?" he asked, concern etched across his face.

You shook your head, trying to hide your tears. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

But Jake wasn't convinced. He gently took your arm, guiding you to your room. "Come on, let's talk."

Once inside, you broke down, the weight of Sungchan's words finally crashing down on you. Jake held you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

"He said such awful things," you sobbed. "He made me feel like it was my fault, like I was the one who did something wrong."

Jake pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with anger and tenderness. "None of this is your fault, Y/N. Sungchan is just trying to manipulate you. You're amazing, and you deserve so much better than him."

You looked up at Jake, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. He gently wiped away your tears, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Thank you, Jake."

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "I care about you, Y/N. More than you know."

The intensity of his gaze took your breath away. Before you could overthink it, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his. The kiss was filled with all the emotions you had been holding back – the pain, the longing, the desire.

Jake responded instantly, his arms tightening around you as he deepened the kiss. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared passion and comfort.

As the kiss ended, Jake pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Are you okay?" he whispered.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I am now."

Jake smiled back, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. "Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."

You spent the rest of the evening together, talking and holding each other, the connection between you growing stronger with every passing moment. For the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of hope and happiness, knowing that you were finally moving forward with someone who truly cared about you.

The next morning, you woke up wrapped in Jake's arms. The warmth and comfort of his presence made it hard to get up, but the sunlight streaming through the window signaled the start of a new day. You gently extricated yourself from his embrace, careful not to wake him, and headed to the bathroom to freshen up.

As you looked at your reflection, the events of the previous day replayed in your mind. Sungchan's harsh words still stung, but Jake's comfort and support had made all the difference. You knew you were on the path to healing, and you were grateful for Jake's presence in your life.

After getting dressed, you went to the kitchen to make breakfast. The smell of coffee and pancakes soon filled the air, and you heard Jake stirring in the other room. Heeseung joined you shortly after, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Morning, sis," Heeseung greeted with a yawn. "What's for breakfast?"

"Pancakes!" you replied, setting a plate in front of him.

"Smells amazing," Heeseung said, digging in with enthusiasm.

Jake appeared moments later, his hair tousled and a sleepy smile on his face. "Good morning," he said, his eyes lighting up when he saw you.

"Good morning," you replied, feeling a flutter in your chest at the sight of him. "Breakfast is ready."

The three of you sat down to eat, the atmosphere relaxed and filled with easy conversation. Despite the lingering tension from the previous day's confrontation with Sungchan, you felt a sense of peace and normalcy returning.

After breakfast, you decided to spend the day at the beach. The sun was shining, and the water looked inviting. Heeseung suggested a new friendly competition of beach volleyball, and you eagerly agreed, excited for the distraction and for the volleyball revenge.

As you set up the net, Jake walked over to you, his expression serious. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay, Jake. Yesterday was tough, but I'm feeling better today. Thanks to you."

Jake's expression softened, and he reached out to gently squeeze your hand. "I'm here for you, Y/N. Always."

The game of volleyball was just what you needed. You, Jake, and Heeseung played with enthusiasm, the friendly competition lifting your spirits. The laughter and playful banter helped you forget about Sungchan and focus on the present moment.

---

As the sun began to set, you all decided to build a bonfire. The glow of the flames cast a warm light on your faces as you roasted marshmallows and shared stories. Jake sat next to you, his arm casually draped around your shoulders, a silent reassurance of his support.

Heeseung went inside to grab more marshmallows, leaving you and Jake alone by the fire. The crackling flames and the distant sound of the waves created an intimate atmosphere.

"Jake," you began, turning to face him. "I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. You've been amazing."

Jake smiled, his eyes reflecting the firelight. "You don't have to thank me, Y/N. I care about you, and I want to be here for you."

You felt a surge of emotion at his words, and before you knew it, you were leaning in to kiss him. The kiss was gentle at first, but it quickly deepened as you both gave in to the passion that had been building between you.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless. Jake's eyes were filled with intensity, and he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "I've wanted to do it again for so long," he admitted, his voice husky.

"Me too," you whispered, feeling a mix of excitement and vulnerability.

Jake leaned in to kiss you again, and this time, there was no holding back. The connection between you was undeniable, and you both knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

---

The next few days were filled with moments of closeness and shared affection. You and Jake spent your mornings walking along the beach, your afternoons swimming and lounging in the sun, and your evenings sharing stories and laughter around the bonfire. The bond between you grew stronger with each passing day, and you felt a sense of happiness and contentment that you hadn't felt in a long time.

One evening, as the sun set in a blaze of colors, Jake took your hand and led you down to the water's edge. The gentle waves lapped at your feet as you walked along the shore, the sky painted in hues of pink and orange.

"Y/N," Jake said, his voice soft. "I've been thinking a lot about us. About what happens when we leave here."

You felt a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving the beach house and returning to reality. "Yeah, me too."

"I don't want this to end," Jake continued, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I know things will be different when we go back, but I want to be with you. I want to make this work."

Your heart swelled with emotion at his words. "I want that too, Jake. More than anything."

He smiled, his eyes shining with happiness. "Then let's do it. Let's make this work, no matter what."

You nodded, feeling a sense of determination and hope. "Yes, let's. do it"

Jake pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was filled with promise and love. As you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you knew that this was just the beginning of your journey together.

---

The last night at the beach house was bittersweet. You, Jake, and Heeseung sat around the bonfire, reminiscing about the past weeks and making plans for the future. There was a sense of finality in the air, but also a feeling of excitement for what lay ahead.

As the fire burned low, Heeseung excused himself to go to bed, leaving you and Jake alone. You turned to him, your heart heavy with the knowledge that this was your last night at the beach house.

"I'm going to miss this place," you said softly, looking around at the familiar surroundings.

"Me too," Jake replied, his voice filled with emotion. "But we'll always have these memories. And we'll make new ones."

You smiled, feeling a sense of comfort in his words. "Yeah, we will."

Jake leaned in to kiss you, and you melted into his embrace, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours. The kiss started slow, gentle, but quickly deepened, becoming more urgent as if he was trying to convey all the emotions he had been holding back. His hands cupped your face, his touch tender yet firm, and you could feel the warmth of his palms against your skin.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the heat radiating from his body. The world around you seemed to blur and fade away, leaving only the two of you, tangled in each other. Jake's hands moved from your face to your waist, his fingers tracing soft patterns along your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

As the kiss grew more passionate, you felt a surge of desire coursing through your veins. Your hands roamed over Jake's back, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt, and you could sense his breath hitch as your touch grew bolder. The taste of him, the feel of his lips moving against yours, was intoxicating, making you dizzy with longing.

He captured your lips again, his kiss more demanding, and you responded with equal fervor. You could feel the hunger in his touch, the way his hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. His fingers found the hem of your shirt, and with a gentle tug, he lifted it over your head, leaving you exposed to the cool night air.

Jake's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his gaze filled with admiration and desire. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his hands trailing down your sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You felt a flush spread across your cheeks at his words, but there was no time for embarrassment. You reached for his shirt, pulling it off in one swift motion, your fingers grazing the smooth skin of his chest. The feel of his bare skin against yours was electrifying, and you couldn't help but gasp as his hands found their way to your back, pulling you even closer.

The night air was filled with the sound of your mingled breaths and the gentle crash of the waves in the distance. Every touch, every kiss, seemed to heighten your senses, making you acutely aware of every movement, every sensation.

Jake's lips left yours to trail kisses along your jaw, down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You tilted your head back, giving him better access, and he took full advantage, his mouth leaving a path of burning kisses down to your collarbone.

As the night wore on, the connection between you and Jake grew stronger, the bond forged in shared desire and deep emotion. Every kiss, every touch, seemed to bring you closer together, weaving an unbreakable thread between your hearts.

You lost track of time, lost in the pleasure of each other's embrace, the world outside forgotten. The stars wheeled overhead, a silent witness to the love and passion unfolding beneath them.

As you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. The feelings and connection between you were strong enough to withstand anything, and you felt a deep sense of contentment knowing that this was just the start of your journey together.

The night might have been filled with passion and desire, but it was the trust that you shared that truly made it special. As you drifted off to sleep, you felt a sense of hope and happiness that you hadn't felt in a long time, knowing that with Jake by your side, you'll be safe.

---

The next morning, you packed your bags with a mix of sadness and anticipation. The beach house, with all its memories and moments of closeness with Jake, had become a sanctuary, a place where you had found healing and hope. Leaving it behind was bittersweet, but you knew you were also embarking on a new chapter with Jake, and that brought a thrill of excitement.

Jake helped you with your bags, his touch gentle and reassuring. As you both loaded the car, Heeseung appeared, his usual playful grin in place. "Well, it’s been an amazing summer, hasn't it?"

"It really has," you agreed, glancing at Jake, who gave you a warm smile in return.

Heeseung pulled you into a quick hug, then turned to Jake with a knowing look. "Take care of my sister, alright? I might be her older brother, but I’m not that oblivious or blind."

You felt your cheeks flush, realizing what he was implying. "Heeseung, we—"

He held up a hand, cutting you off with a laugh. "No need to explain. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not as oblivious as you might think. I don't usually take that many naps.”

Heeseung gave you both a warm smile, his playful demeanor softening. "Seriously though, take care of each other."

Jake laughed, clapping Heeseung on the back. "I will. Thanks for everything, man."

"Yeah, yeah," Heeseung said with a wink, his finger pointed like a gun in Jake's direction. "Just remember, I know where you live."

You rolled your eyes, feeling a mix of embarrassment and affection for your brother. "Alright, enough with the threats."

With one last look at the beach house, you climbed into the car. The drive back to campus was filled with laughter and shared memories. Jake recounted funny moments from the summer, making you laugh until your sides hurt. The bond between you felt stronger than ever, fortified by the time you had spent together and the experiences you had shared.

As you drove, the scenery changed from the serene coastal views to the bustling streets near your campus. The familiar sights brought a pang of nostalgia for the summer you were leaving behind, but they also stirred a sense of excitement for the future. You glanced at Jake, feeling grateful for his presence and the promise of what lay ahead.

When you finally arrived back at the campus, Jake parked the car and turned to you, his eyes filled with love. "Welcome back," he said softly, leaning in to kiss you.

"Thank you," you replied, your heart swelling with happiness. The kiss was sweet and tender, a preview of all the good things to come.

As you stepped out of the car and looked around, you saw your friends and classmates, their faces filled with curiosity and excitement. Some waved, while others approached to greet you. It felt strange and yet comforting to be back in the familiar surroundings of your campus.

One of your closest friends, Karina, hurried over, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Y/N! You're back! And... Jake?" Her gaze shifted between the two of you, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "So, what’s the story here?"

You exchanged a glance with Jake, who squeezed your hand reassuringly. "It’s a long story," you said, smiling. "But the short version is that Jake and I are together now."

Karina's smile widened. "I knew something was up when you kept mentioning him in your texts. I'm so happy for you!"

As more friends gathered around, you felt a sense of warmth and belonging. Everyone was eager to hear about your summer, and you and Jake shared stories, each one bringing laughter and excitement.

Throughout the day, Jake stayed by your side, his presence a constant source of comfort and joy. The transition from the serene beach house to the lively campus was made easier by his support and the love that had blossomed between you.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the campus, you and Jake found a quiet spot under a large oak tree. You sat together, his arm around you, watching as students milled about, catching up with friends and preparing for the new semester.

"I can't believe summer is over," you said softly, leaning into Jake.

"It might be over, but this is just the beginning for us," Jake replied, his voice filled with conviction. "We have so much to look forward to."

You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment and excitement. "I know. And I'm ready for whatever comes next, as long as we're together."

Jake pressed a kiss to your temple. "We will be."

The evening air was cool and refreshing, and you felt a deep sense of peace as you sat there with Jake. The challenges of the past were behind you, and the future was filled with endless possibilities. You knew that there would be ups and downs, but with Jake by your side, you felt ready to face anything.

As the campus lights flickered on, casting a warm glow over the grounds, you realized that this place, with all its memories and promises, was where your new journey with Jake would truly begin. And you couldn't wait to see what the future holds.

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Taglist : @heelovesmeknot @dreamiestay @anormieee @citylightsdoll @tiffanyyamarr-blog @ak-aaa-li @capri-cuntz @dreamiestay

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riwoops · 3 months ago

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ㅤ✶ㅤ págos latte and bagels .ᐟ p.sh

𝓢tarring —﹙박성훈﹚stressed bf ! park 𝒮unghoon x sweet loving partner ! 𝑔𝓃 ! reader 𝒾𝓃... sunghoon regretting his major and confessing it to you ! wc. 1.2k 𒀭 college!au est. fluff physical touch sliiiiight angst reader & hoon study classical philology cuz i luv greco-latin culture sm so yeah 💔 doesn't really influence in the story, i just felt like squeezing it somewhere lmao

( SUMARIO ✦ ) sunghoon seriously doesn't know what got into him when he decided to get a bachelor's degree in classical philology. college is stressful — all the new subjects, the teachers, the constant coursework and research that he has to do in order to finish his degree's final project… he's literally about to dropout and needs to tell someone now.

७. ꕤ 𝓡eblog & 𝓵ike for a smooooch !

another day, another class your boyfriend is late to.

"sorry!" he says loudly, slamming the door close behind him as he makes his way next to your seat. he was clearly embarrassed for disrupting the lecture although it's become a habit at this point.

it is 9:40. the class finishes at 10:05.

the teacher doesn't even flinch when he steps inside the room, nor when he apologizes for being late again as he got used to the boy doing it in all of his classes — instead, the professor continues as if nothing had happened, as if a very red and flushed sunghoon didn't just sit down beside you.

you give him a quick glance before fixing your eyes completely on him once you notice his state.

"baby, what happened?" you whisper confused and worried. sunghoon was grasping for air while he was taking his stuff out, trying miserably to focus on what’s left of the lecture.

"the bus arrived ten minutes late..." he replied back, a bit of disappointment and annoyance present in his voice. your once worried expression turns into a playful one, leaving any serious thought you had aside.

“i seriously cannot stand this anymore” and as soon as sunghoon whispers to you through gritted teeth, you notice how his fists clench on top of his notebook as he runs a hand through his hair. this makes you frown, bringing back your worried thoughts as you were unsure of what he meant by that.

“hoonie, baby, is everything alright?” your voice comes sweet like honey, making your boyfriend relax for a split second before he tenses again.

this is weird.

he’s usually not this stressed — you can see in his movements that something’s going on.

“i’m thinking about dropping out” he finally declares after some seconds of silence, gaining a surprised gasp from you.

oh damn.

you really did not expect that.

“i’m just– this is so stressful” he breathes out, closing his eyes momentarily before turning his head to you “i'm literally being exploited here. i barely have any free time and, honestly, i don’t even like dead languages!” he concludes, his voice picking up some speed as he vented to you.

a skeptical hand is placed on his tigh, making his eyes glance at you tiredly.

“i’m sorry” he finally mumbles, his voice genuine at the words.

“it’s okay” you give him a soft smile, caressing his leg reassuringly as you try to brush it off. you're still in class and you have many hours left to talk deeply about what he had just brought up to you, to talk about him dropping out.

it continues sounding so unreal to you.

you were actually enjoying the degree you both were specializing in — classical philology. you've always liked latin and greek and felt pretty much attracted to the ancient culture, to its history and how many modern words evolved from these two languages.

but ever since you started college and met sunghoon, you could tell he didn't enjoy it as much as you did. he was always complaining about how difficult everything was, how the modules kept eating him alive and how he wasn't actually liking it as he thought he was going to do.

college was killing him, and you knew it, but you never expected him to get to the point of leaving the major just a few months before graduating.

once your short yet very much necessary rest began, you both decided to go to a coffee shop near the campus.

the smell of freshly baked pastries and bread, especially bagels, filled your nostrils as you both made your way inside the cozy building.

"so..." you cleared your throat softly, not wanting to bother him about what you're about to ask "when did you think about... that?" the question finished being formulated with the word feeling quite foreign in your tongue — it really did shock you.

sunghoon sighs heavily, his hand coming near his neck and scratching it lightly as you found a table for two. before he could even say anything, he interrupted himself.

"we should order something first" he suggests, getting up from his seat and walking towards the counter. you already knew what he was going to order, the usual — for you it was a bagel filled with cream cheese and salmon with peach tea on the side, for him it was an iced latte with a bacon and egg sandwich.

he came back with the orders in two trays, giving yours first before sitting down.

"i'm thinking about leaving the major" sunghoon repeats once he is sat, finally explaining to you the reason behind it "because i've never actually enjoyed what we're studying. honestly, i'm not even sure when and why i decided to study this" he exhales and continues ranting, frustrated by the decision he took and how much he regretted it.

it really was killing him.

"and i don't know... i'm aware of how much you do like this and i really appreciate you've always tried helping me but, seriously, this is not for me" his rambling comes to an end, his eyes fixing on yours as he waits for your turn to speak now. he's scared, staring at you, feeling concerned about your opinion.

all you have to do is show him a mild smirk and repeat the same reassuring words you told him when he had entered the first class of the day for sunghoon to finally relax.

"it's okay, honey. i don't hate you for making such a strong decision, it's your life and i'm here to support you. i don't want you staying here just because of me" the words come out of your mouth so lovingly, making him loosen up even more as you go on. "and if i'm sincere, i'm happy you even got to that conclusion because that means you know who you are and what you like" you grab one of his hands, caressing its back with your thumb as you kept your gazes locked.

sunghoon nods deliberately, glad you didn't discourage him about it and instead supported his decision. he smiles back at you.

"thank you" he whispers, bringing your hand closer to his lips and planting a gentle peck.

in a comfortable silence you sense sunghoon still feeling doubtful, frightened about what he's about to do on his own. it doesn't really matter though, as long as he's got you by his side everything's fine.

maybe he won't be in your class anymore, maybe you won't have him as close as you do right now and maybe your paths won't be fully aligned, and that's probably the least important thing right now. sometimes love is about still holding hands through the detours.

and right now, you're still holding hands.

that's more than enough.

requests are open!

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woniescheeks · 9 months ago

Text

The Book That Knows | l.hs

Synopsis: A day where reality and fiction collide, a seemingly normal day for you spirals into terror when you discover a mysterious book in your home. The book eerily mirrors your life, with each page recounting events happening in real time.

Genre: Ghostface!Heeseung, Psychological Horror, Thriller, Supernatural Fiction, Suspense

W/C: 3.9k

Warnings: Violence, Psychological Horror, Supernatural Elements, Manipulation, Implied Threat of Death, Betrayal, Cursing

A/N: Sorry it took me a long time to post something new. University has been stressing me out and i just never had time to just sit down and write. Don't be afraid to send me requests, I'll make sure to try and answer all of them. And i will try to post often. I hope you enjoy!

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*

It was a dreary Sunday afternoon when you first heard about Ghost Face on the news. You weren't paying much attention at first, mindlessly flipping channels as the rain poured against your window. But something about the chilling report on the television caught your ear, making you pause.

The anchor’s voice, calm but laced with tension, described a recent string of brutal murders happening in a nearby town. The killer —known only by the alias "Ghost Face"— had yet to be caught. The mask they wore, white with hollow eyes and a twisted, grinning mouth, had become infamous. What made it all the more terrifying was how they blended into the victims' lives, often posing as a friend, a neighbor, someone familiar — until it was too late.

You shivered, reaching for the remote to turn off the TV, trying to shake off the eerie feeling creeping up your spine. It was just a story, after all, a terrible tragedy happening somewhere else to someone else. You were safe, tucked away in your cozy home, far from the horrors playing out on the screen.

You had found an old, tattered novel at a second-hand shop the day before — a horror story with a faded cover, its title barely legible: “The Silent Watcher”.

Something about it had drawn you in, though you couldn’t quite place why. The pages smelled of old paper and mystery, and you had a hunch it was the type of book that would get under your skin.

You settled into your favorite chair, the rain tapping softly against the windows, and began to read.

The story started off simple enough: a small town, an outsider moving into a creaky, old house, and a series of strange occurrences. The protagonist, a person with no name yet, began to notice odd things happening around them—a door that wouldn’t stay shut, a strange knocking at night, the sensation of being watched.

As you turned the pages, the descriptions of the protagonist’s life became unsettlingly familiar. They lived alone, much like you. Their house had the same creaking floorboards, the same slightly peeling wallpaper, the same view of the park across the street. You told yourself it was just a coincidence. Old houses often shared these traits, and plenty of horror novels leaned into these types of clichés.

But as you continued, the details grew more specific. The way the house’s front door stuck if you didn’t pull it hard enough. The exact placement of the furniture in the living room. The faint stain on the ceiling in the kitchen that no amount of scrubbing could remove. Every description matched your own home.

You put the book down, your heart starting to race. The rain outside had picked up, and the house was filled with that eerie quiet that comes after dusk. You stood up, walking to the window, peering out at the empty street. The park, with its benches and swings swaying in the wind, looked peaceful enough, but you couldn’t shake the creeping feeling crawling up your spine.

Shaking off the unease, you sat back down and opened the book again. Maybe it was just a trick your mind was playing on you. Maybe you were getting too absorbed in the story. You continued reading, your fingers trembling slightly as you turned the page.

The protagonist was now feeling watched, just like you had when you first noticed the strange coincidences. They began to hear footsteps at night, soft taps in the hallway that made their pulse quicken. You could feel your own breath quicken as you read, the words pulling you deeper into the mystery.

Then came the part that made your blood run cold.

The protagonist, unnamed until now, was given a name—a name that was yours.

You stared at the page, blinking, convinced you were seeing things. The name was printed clearly. Your name. It couldn’t be. Your mind whirled, trying to rationalize. Maybe it was some bizarre fluke, or maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, inserting your own name into the story because of how eerily familiar it had become.

You flipped back a few pages, scanning for when the name first appeared, but it wasn’t there. Your name hadn’t been mentioned earlier in the book. Yet now, it was all over the page, as if it had always been there.

Heart pounding, you turned to the next chapter. The protagonist—you—was walking through their home, checking the doors, locking the windows, making sure everything was secure. As they—you—moved through the house, the words began to describe something new. Something you hadn’t done yet.

You froze.

The book was describing your exact movements, as though it was watching you. " You glance at the clock. It’s 7:14. You place the book down on the side table and stand up, walking to the kitchen to make sure the back door is locked."

Your eyes darted to the clock. It was 7:14.

The book was reading you. Your movements, your thoughts, every detail of your life was being played out in the story, one sentence ahead of your actions.

Suddenly, you felt like you weren’t alone. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, thicker, like something was watching, waiting. You stood up, the book slipping from your hands, and glanced toward the hallway. The faint tapping, the sound of footsteps, echoed from the dark.

You turned to the book, still lying open on the chair. You didn’t want to, but you had to know. With trembling hands, you picked it back up.

"You walk slowly to the hallway, your heart racing. You know there’s something there. You know that, just beyond the corner, it waits for you."

The tapping grew louder. A steady rhythm, like fingers drumming against the wall.

"Your breath quickens as you step closer. You don’t want to look, but you can’t stop yourself. You turn the corner, and there it is. The watcher. It has been waiting for you all along."

You took a step forward, the hallway looming before you, every nerve in your body screaming at you to stop. But you couldn’t. The book was in your hands, and you had to know how it ended.

"The watcher is not human. It never was. Its eyes are fixed on you, unblinking, never leaving, always waiting. And now, you are part of its story. Forever."

You stopped at the edge of the hallway, unable to move. The footsteps had stopped. The house was deathly silent.

Slowly, you closed the book, but you knew it wasn’t over.

You stood frozen at the edge of the hallway, the eerie silence wrapping around you like a suffocating blanket. The book, now tightly gripped in your trembling hands, felt heavier than before, like it was something alive—breathing, watching, waiting. The words haunted you, the image of the watcher lurking just beyond the corner. But there was something else now, a new presence that made your skin prickle with a strange mix of fear and anticipation.

A soft knock echoed through the house. Your heart skipped a beat.

Someone was at the door.

For a split second, you wondered if you should even answer it. Every instinct screamed that something was wrong. But the knocking came again, more insistent this time, pulling you out of your paralysis.

You moved toward the door, the sound of your footsteps unnervingly loud in the stillness. When you finally reached it, you hesitated for a moment, your hand hovering over the handle. The knock came again, this time more insistent, followed by a familiar voice.

"Hey, it’s me, Heeseung. You there?"

Relief washed over you. Heeseung was your next-door neighbor, and more than that, your best friend. He was the first one who introduced himself to you once you moved here. He kept you company and helped you out when things got tough. He was the first one that felt like home. If anyone could calm you down from this bizarre, twisted night, it was him. You hurriedly reached the door knob, almost too eagerly, and opened it.

Heeseung stood there with his trademark grin, a hoodie pulled over his head and a baseball cap barely concealing his messy black hair that stuck to his forehead. He looked like he had just come from the rain, drops glistening on his clothes. His warm brown eyes scanned your face with an intensity you couldn’t place. For a moment, the world outside seemed to fade into a blur of rain and shadows. It was like the space around him didn’t quite exist, only he did—sharp and real, with an energy that made your pulse quicken.

“Hey,” he said, his voice steady, almost too calm for the moment. “I saw your light was still on and thought I’d check in. You okay?”

You blinked, unsure of what to say. The words felt heavy on your tongue. "What.... What are you doing here?"

The man smiled softly, though there was something about it that made your heart race, a mix of warmth and something else —something unreadable. “I’m your best friend dumbass, your neighbour too,” he said simply. “But you seemed like you needed someone right now.” Something about his presence put you slightly at ease, as though he was meant to be there. Like he'd always been there.

But your mind snapped back to the book, the horror of what you’d just read, and the watcher that had been described waiting in the shadows. Could this be another coincidence? Or was he something more—something tied to the terrifying mystery unfolding around you?

"Hey," he said, stepping in without waiting for an invitation, "you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." He wiped the water from his face, his eyes scanning the room like he was searching for something. For a moment, he glanced at the book on the table, its pages slightly open, but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he leaned against the wall, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp.

You almost laughed at how close to the truth that was. "Yeah, I just—" You hesitated, glancing back at the book sitting on the armchair. "I was reading this creepy book, and it’s messing with my head. It… feels too real, Heeseung."

He raised an eyebrow, peeking over your shoulder at the book. "What do you mean, 'too real?'"

You sighed, trying to calm your nerves. "It’s like the book knows what I’m doing. It started describing my house, my movements, even my thoughts. And now I feel like something’s watching me."

Heeseung chuckled softly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Come on, it’s just a book. You’re letting it get to you." Heeseung tilted his head, giving you that playful, reassuring smile that had always made you feel better.

Heeseung was right—this had to be your mind playing tricks on you.

As you looked at him, it seemed as if he wanted to say something but was hesitant. You were about to ask him about it but he then spoke after a moment, his voice soft but firm, “But truthfully, I’ve noticed things too. Weird things. I thought maybe... you’d want to talk about it.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. He had noticed things? Things like what?

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung’s expression darkened slightly, his brows furrowing. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I think you’re being watched. I’ve seen someone—or something—lurking near your house at night. It’s hard to explain, but... it doesn’t feel right.”

Your pulse quickened, fear curling tightly in your chest. Was it the watcher? The same figure described in the book? How could Heeseung know about this? How could he have seen it when you only just read it?

As if sensing your rising panic, Heeseung stepped closer, his voice gentler. “Listen, I know how crazy this sounds, but I’m not lying. I’ve seen it. And I don’t think it’s just a person. I think it’s something worse.”

The book’s words flashed in your mind: "The watcher is not human. It never was."

Your throat went dry. “How do you know?” you managed to ask.

Heeseung hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Because... I’ve been through this before. A long time ago, in another town, another place. It started just like this. The feeling of being watched. The strange occurrences. The book...”

Your heart stopped. The book.

Heeseung followed your gaze to the novel sitting on the table. His face paled slightly. “You’ve been reading it, haven’t you?”

You nodded slowly. “It’s... about me. It knows everything. Every detail of my life, every move I make. It’s like it’s writing my story as I live it.”

Heeseung ran a hand through his wet hair, his face grim. “It’s not just writing your story,” he said, his voice low. “It’s controlling it.”

You stared at him, a sinking feeling gnawing at your stomach. “What do you mean?”

Heeseung took a deep breath, his eyes darkening with the weight of what he was about to say. “Once you start reading it, it doesn’t stop. The book—"The Silent Watcher"—it latches onto you, like a parasite. It watches, it waits, and then it pulls you in. You become a character in its pages, trapped in the story it writes. The watcher... it’s part of the book, part of the story, and it’s after you.”

Your mind reeled. The watcher, the book, Heeseung—everything was connected. But how? Why?

“How do we stop it?” you whispered, dread settling deep in your bones.

Heeseung looked at you, his eyes filled with both fear and determination. “I don’t know if we can stop it,” he admitted. “But there might be a way to survive. We need to finish the book. And whatever happens, we need to make sure it doesn’t write the ending.”

The air around you seemed to grow colder, the walls of your house closing in as the weight of his words sank in. The watcher was out there, lurking, waiting. And the only way to escape was to face the story head-on.

With Heeseung by your side, you knew there was no turning back.

The book still lay open on the table, waiting for you to turn the next page.

Together, you took a deep breath and plunged back into the story, knowing that whatever came next, you were no longer alone in this nightmare.

The rain had slowed to a soft patter against the windows, but inside the house, the tension remained thick. You glanced at Heeseung, whose calm demeanor seemed to waver for a moment as he stared at the book on the table. His earlier words echoed in your mind—"The book is controlling your story. The watcher is part of it."

But something about him wasn’t sitting right.

You shook your head, trying to focus. This wasn’t the time for doubt. You had just discovered that your life, your every move, was being dictated by the book. You were living out its plot, a puppet in someone else’s hands, and now Heeseung was telling you that the watcher wasn’t just some figment of your imagination. It was real. But how did he know so much? How was he so familiar with the horrors unfolding around you?

Heeseung shifted beside you, his eyes scanning the room as if he were looking for something—or someone.

"Do you hear that?" he asked quietly, stepping closer to you. His voice was soft, but the way his eyes stayed fixed on the book sent a shiver down your spine.

You strained your ears. The house was silent, save for the ticking of the clock and the faint dripping of rain outside. "No… What are you—"

He cut you off, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly. "It's closer than you think. We need to be careful."

Before you could respond, something clicked in your mind—something off about him. There was a confidence in his movements that seemed too practiced, too precise. The way he watched the shadows, as if he was waiting for something, felt more deliberate than concerned. And then there was his sudden arrival. Why had he shown up tonight, of all nights? How had he known to come?

As Heeseung stepped away from you, pacing the room like he was calculating something, you caught sight of the reflection in the window. For just a split second, you saw it. The faintest hint of something dark, something familiar—the outline of a mask. It was familiar to the one you saw on the television just moments before. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, but your heart lurched in your chest.

You blinked hard, trying to push the thought away. It couldn't be true. Heeseung was helping you, he was your best friend. He seemed as terrified as you were, didn’t he?

But as he turned back to face you, his eyes meeting yours, something in his gaze had shifted. There was a glint, a spark of something cold, something calculated. You had seen that look before. Not in Heeseung, but in the very stories you had read—where the killer wore a friendly face, a mask hiding the truth underneath.

Your pulse quickened, the room suddenly feeling too small. "Heeseung," you said slowly, your voice barely above a whisper, "why are you really here?"

Heeseung stopped, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched between you for what felt like an eternity. Then, he let out a low chuckle, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I told you—I’ve been through this before. I’ve seen it happen. I’m trying to help you.”

But there was something wrong with the way he said it. The way his voice dropped, too smooth, too casual, as if he was reading from a script. And then, without warning, he stepped closer, his smile lingering just a little too long.

You took a step back, your breath catching in your throat. "Help me?" The question came out shaky, your nerves fraying. "Or are you just watching? Like the book says."

His eyes darkened, and for the first time, you saw it—an unsettling amusement lurking just beneath the surface. "It’s funny," he said, his voice soft, "how easy it is to blend in, to be the hero in someone’s story when really…" He trailed off, a twisted grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

Your heart raced as the truth began to dawn on you. Heeseung wasn’t here to help. He was here because he was part of the story. He wasn’t just a bystander or some random figure from the neighborhood. He was the watcher.

Heeseung leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, and whispered, "You should’ve been more careful. You never know who’s behind the mask."

The room spun as the pieces clicked into place. Heeseung—he was the one watching, controlling the story from the shadows. He had lured you into this twisted narrative, guiding your every move, setting the stage for his own sick game.

And now, you were trapped with him, the very person you thought was your ally.

Fear gripped you, cold and unforgiving, as Heeseung’s hand drifted toward the edge of his jacket. Slowly, deliberately, he reached inside and pulled out the unmistakable white mask, the one you had seen in countless horror movies and nightmares. The very one you saw on TV.

Ghost Face.

He held it in his hand, turning it slowly, watching your reaction with a sick kind of satisfaction. “You really thought you could just read the book and escape?” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “This story was never about escaping. It’s about survival.”

Your legs felt like they would give out beneath you, but you forced yourself to stand your ground. The book had warned you, laid out the plot, but now you realized—you were never meant to win.

Heeseung stepped closer, the mask now in place over his face, his voice deep and distorted as he spoke through the iconic grin. “But don’t worry. I’ll make sure your ending is… memorable.”

Panic surged through you, and before he could move, you bolted toward the hallway, your heart pounding in your ears. Behind you, you heard the low chuckle of Ghost Face, his footsteps slow and deliberate as he followed.

You stumbled through the hallway, your breath coming in ragged gasps, trying to make sense of the nightmare you were trapped in. The sound of Heeseung’s slow, deliberate footsteps echoed behind you, growing louder with each passing second. He wasn’t rushing—he didn’t need to. He had the upper hand, and he knew it.

How did it come to this? Your mind raced as you fought to keep yourself from spiraling into panic. Just hours ago, he was your friend—your ally in this strange, terrifying situation. But now, the realization that he had been the orchestrator of everything, the puppet master behind the mask, hit you like a punch to the gut.

You skidded into the kitchen, eyes scanning wildly for something—anything—to defend yourself. The drawers. You lunged for them, pulling one open and rifling through its contents. A flash of metal caught your eye, and you grabbed a kitchen knife, gripping it tightly in your trembling hands.

A soft, mocking laugh drifted from the hallway. “What’s the plan now?” Heeseung’s voice was calm, almost playful, as he spoke through the Ghost Face mask. “You think you’re going to fight me? You’re in my story.”

His footsteps were getting closer.

You backed up, heart pounding in your chest, gripping the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. “I’m not just going to stand here and let you kill me,” you spat, your voice shaking but defiant.

Heeseung’s figure emerged from the shadows of the hallway, the Ghost Face mask a chilling, distorted smile in the dim light. His head tilted slightly, as if amused by your bravery. “That’s what I like about you,” he said, his voice dripping with a twisted kind of admiration. “Always a fighter. But that’s what makes this fun, isn’t it?”

Heeseung raised a gloved hand, revealing the long, sharp blade of the knife that had been hidden beneath his coat. The sight of it sent a jolt of terror through you. You took a step back, keeping the kitchen table between the two of you, trying to buy time, trying to think of a way out.

“This isn’t a movie, Heeseung,” you said, voice trembling. “This is real life. You’re not going to get away with this.”

Heeseung chuckled, the sound dark and menacing. “But that’s where you’re wrong,” he said, twirling the knife in his hand like it was an extension of himself. “This is a story. And you’re still playing your part. You always have been.”

Your back hit the counter, and you realized you were running out of space. Heeseung was toying with you, taking his time, savoring every moment of your fear.

The book’s final pages flashed through your mind as you were trapped, the chilling truth seeping into your bones. You weren’t just a character in the story anymore.

You were its prey.

#enha #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen angst #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung #heeseung lee #enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha x reader #enha heeseung #ghostface #reader x enhypen #reader x heeseung #engene

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chocochiffonnn · 5 months ago

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Love Box

➸ Pairing: Nishimura Riki x Student! Reader (ft.Jungwon of Enhypen)

➸ Word Count: Estimated 25k.

➸ Release date: 03/02/2025 (March 2, 2025)

➸ Synopsis: The Love Box was a sacred treasure to the students of Decelis Academy where students pour their heart to people they admire anonymously. One of your responsibilities as the Radio Club president was to read the letters from the miraculous box. You previously hoped to have the ideal high school romance, as you were one of the victims of the aforementioned Love Box. Things don't work out as planned, though, and you find yourself in a romantic turmoil again when the recipient of your letter returns from their abrupt absence.

➸ Themes: Higschool lovers to strangers, to lovers again. Fic is set in Japan (though Enhypen members are included and have Korean names lol), heavily inspired from the anime Ao Haru ride, and that one romance J-drama I saw a few years back.

➸ Warnings: Reader gives in quite often, Riki is very much a tease but a shy boy at the same time, a sliver of that love triangle, tooth-rotting fluff, a bit of cursing.

➸ Author's Note: I'm finally releasing my first ever long fan fiction! Hope you guys will support this and wait for its publication, I'm super duper excited for it!

➸ Taglist: Reblog to be a part of the taglist for this fic!

#nishimura riki #enhypen #nishimura riki enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #riki x reader #nishimura riki fanfiction #nishimura riki fanfic #Riki #Niki #Niki x reader #fanfiction #Nishimura Riki x Reader #enhypen ot7 #Enhypen Niki #Enhypen Riki #riki fluff

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i05wook · 2 years ago

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Summer Sickness - Park Sunghoon

pairing: gn! reader x bf! sunghoon

genre: fluff, established au, romance, comfort

wc: 249

summary: It's the middle of summer and god knows how you've managed to fall sick.

author’s notes: thank you so much for the second request Stella!! i hope you enjoy this drabble as well <3

The middle of summer was fast approaching, each day becoming blisteringly hotter than the last, and yet here you were buried deep under the multiple blankets of your boyfriend’s bottom bunk.

Piles of tissues overflowing from the bin beside you, empty blister packs of tablets lay scattered across the bed sheets and nightstand. You’d been bedridden for the past three days, your body absolutely exhausted trying to fight off this summer cold.

"Are you warm enough darling?" Sunghoon asked you as he entered the room, with a fresh, hot bowl of chicken noodle soup which he managed to persuade Jay to teach him to make whilst you were napping. “I’m warm enough Hoon, stop worrying. It’s just a cold silly,” you tried to reassure your ever so doting boyfriend as he placed yet another blanket over you, before he sat down on the edge of the bed.

He insisted on feeding you the soup himself, wary of you exhausting yourself by lifting a spoon to your mouth, when really he actually liked the feeling of taking care of you. After there were only a couple of spoons of soup left in the bowl, you began to feel full and indicated this to Sunghoon. He placed the bowl on the nightstand and began to stand up off the bed until you reached out your arm towards him, grabbing him lightly by the wrist.

"Will you cuddle with me Hoonie?"

And who was he to refuse you when you were sick?

status: open

@bambisgirl @enhacolor @acaiasahi @duolingofanaccount @slytherinshua @redm4ri @enluv @jaelaxies

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wonniethepoo · 1 year ago

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𝕊𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟

🍯ℂ𝕒𝕟 𝕀 𝕘𝕖𝕥 𝕒 𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕤? 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣..🍯

𝕊𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: 𝔸𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕒 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣, 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕘𝕠 𝕒𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕒𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕔𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕘𝕖. 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕁𝕦𝕟𝕘𝕨𝕠𝕟 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖? 𝕆𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕡 𝕓𝕪…

𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕣𝕖: 𝔽𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗, 𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥 (𝕚𝕕𝕣𝕜)

This was your last summer before you had to leave for college. You only had 2 days before you had to go. Sadness took over you when you thought about leavingyour family, friends, but most of all, Jungwon. He had been your bestfriend since 1st grade. You still remember th3 first day you met. You were picking sunflower seeds for your grandmother when you saw a boy your age. He was making flower crowns. “Hi!” Your enthusiastic greeting scared the boy to death. “You can’t sneak up on people like that!” “Oh I’m sorry! I’m y/n!” The boy looked down at his flower crown, “Jungwon. My name is Jungwon.” He handed you the crown and shook your hand. “Wanna be friends?” “Yes! Let’s be best friends,” and the rest was history.

~Present time~

“Why do you have to leave me? You’re literally the only funny person in this town Sunny.” Ever since you guys were little, Jungwon has always called you sunny. “Because there are way more opportunities for me! Besides, don’t you want me to be successful,” The boy pouted, “Oh so I guess you want me to be homeless!” You dramatically stated as you plopped down on your bed next to him. Jungwon rested his head on your shoulder and sighed. “Will you at least visit frequently?” “If I can.” You knew this was going to happen as soon as you got accepted into the university, you just didn’t know it was going to be this hard.

The boy looked towards you, his saddened eyes scanning your face before pulling you into a hug. Tears threatened to escape your eyes, and it felt like a large lump was in your throat. You wrapped your arms around him, Not wanting to see all your packed up belongings, you buried your head into his neck. The hug lasted for about 30 seconds before he pulled away. “Enough of this mushy gushy stuff! Let’s at least go some where before I leave Sunny,” He sounded like he was about to break down in tears and you could tell. You nodded and followed him downstairs to his car.

You loved car rides like these. You looked out the window, admiring in the beautiful scene. The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with a kaleidoscopic display of luminous colors. Though keeping his eyes on the rode, he just couldn’t help but look at you. You looked so beautiful. The sun was perfectly hitting your rose tinted cheeks, and enhancing your beautiful dirt-brown eyes.

you started realizing where he was driving to. He was taking you to the sunflower field you guys met in. “Oh my gosh, this brings me way back Won!” “Yeah I thought we should spend our last moments together in the place we met.” He chuckled and got out of the car, walking to your side and opening your door. “You’re such a gentlemen.” You smiled “my pleasure sunny.” Walking out the car you took in the view once again. Nostalgia hit you. You couldn’t believe you weren’t 6 anymore. “Come here let me show you something.” Jungwon grabbed your hand and led you to a rock in the middle of the field. He sat on the rock and patted it, insinuating you to come sit as well.

“Y/n, we’ve been best friends since we were young. I really enjoyed all the time we’ve spent together. I like you. I-I really really really like you.” You looked at Jungwon, “Wonnie I like-“ before you could finish your sentence his lips connected to yours. It was sweet and sincere. You’ve kissed many boys before but this one was different, You felt love. Before you would run out of oxygen you pulled away. He was flustered even though he made the first move. “Before you interrupted me.. I like you too Wonnie!” You giggled and hugged him. “Also here, I made this a couple of days ago.” He placed a beautiful sunflower crown on top of your head.

“You look so pretty Sunny.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ omg first official fic! It’s probably not the best but I will take CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM (not insults I will block ur ass.) hopefully yall like it lol. 💞💞💞

~ @neoculturecollectives

@euseokz

@heeliopheelia

@panjakes

@mphountitled

#reader x enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fanfic #yang jungwon #jungwon #fluff

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ochacoca · 2 months ago

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never seen a more accurate thing on tiktok

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enhaflixer · 4 months ago

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CUMMING OF AGE

bsfs brother!Heeseung x f!reader - when you ask him to teach you how to masturbate. (pure porn with plot. MDNI 18+, explicit, masturbation, cunnilingus, phone sex, ANGST, fluff too so its fine.) “If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.” “And if she won’t listen…” “I’ll make her.”

You’ve always had a hate-hate relationship with masturbation.

Not the “haha I don’t know what I’m doing” kind. Not the shy, innocent kind. The kind where you tried, over and over again, and every time it ended in that same aching, pathetic way—panties soaked, fingers numb, pussy throbbing, and absolutely nothing to show for it.

No finish. No orgasm. Not even a fucking twitch of satisfaction.

You rubbed and rubbed, like everyone said to. You found your clit. You circled it. Pressed it. Flicked it. Tried soft and slow, then fast and desperate. Tried with spit, with lotion, with fucking coconut oil once. But nothing ever felt right. Just this frustrating hum of almost. Like your body was teetering on the edge of something big and just… refused to jump.

You’d end up sore. Agitated. Your legs would shake, but not the good kind. Your pussy would swell, throbbing like she was mocking you for trying.

It made you feel broken. Or worse—boring. Like your body was wired wrong. Like you’d missed the most basic feminine skill everyone else seemed to be born with.

Girls talked about cumming like it was breathing. Like they could do it in five minutes flat with one hand and a good imagination. You’d hear them talk about shaking through the sheets, arching off the bed, seeing stars—and you’d smile and nod and laugh along, pretending like you got it, like you knew what it was like to get wrecked by your own hand.

You’d never even come close.

You tried toys. You bought a vibrator and nearly cried when it did nothing but make your arms go numb. You tried grinding on pillows until the friction made you raw. You tried porn. You even tried watching yourself once in the mirror like some kind of twisted self-help therapy. Nothing worked.

You’d touch and touch and chase and beg for it in your head—please, just this once, just let me finish, please—and still end up breathless, sticky, empty.

You’d cry sometimes. Just a little. From the frustration of it. From the absolute humiliation of being so fucking horny and not being able to do anything about it.

You hated that about yourself. Hated the way your body seemed to enjoy the build and not the release. Hated the way your clit would throb for attention and then get overwhelmed the second you gave her any. Hated the need. The noise. The mess with no reward.

But the worst part—the actual worst part—was how much you still wanted it. How much you still tried. Like a dog chasing its own tail. Like some needy little loser who couldn’t leave it alone.

You were eighteen, for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to know your body by now. You were supposed to be able to make yourself cum. You were supposed to own your pleasure.

Instead, you were stuck with a pussy that got wet at the idea of being touched and then shut down the second you did.

It made you feel fucking insane.

So you gave up. Mostly. You still touched yourself when you needed to—when it built up too much and made your thighs ache. But it wasn’t about cumming anymore. It was maintenance. A reset button. A pressure valve. You did it in the dark, quietly, quickly, just to shut your body up.

You didn’t even think about pleasure anymore.

You didn’t dare.

Evie—Heejoo, but you only ever called her that when you wanted to piss her off—was your best friend in the world. Ride-or-die since ninth grade, bonded over a shared hatred of your chem teacher and the fact that neither of you fit into your school’s carefully manicured social circles.

Where you were sharp and quick with your mouth, she was soft-spoken and wide-eyed, just sweet enough to disarm anyone who got too close. You balanced each other out. She calmed your storm. You stirred hers.

You were over at her house so often it barely felt like visiting anymore. You knew the code to their garage door. You had your own toothbrush in her bathroom. Her mom kept your favorite cereal in the pantry like clockwork. You even had a drawer in her room, mostly old hoodies and stolen pajama shorts that smelled like her perfume.

It wasn’t unusual for you to spend the weekend there, or three nights in a row, or an entire spring break. Her parents didn’t mind. They liked knowing where you both were—liked having an extra body in the house, even if they never said it out loud.

And then there was Heeseung.

Her older brother. Four years up. Barely a presence.

When you were younger, he was just the older guy who sulked in his room and stole her chargers. Sometimes he’d give you a ride when Evie asked, sometimes he’d walk past you in the kitchen and grunt a greeting, but that was about it. He was there, and then he wasn’t—off to college, off to god knows where, vanishing from your life as quickly as he’d drifted through it.

You had a tiny crush on him once, freshman year. The kind that sparked quick and stupid, fed by his lazy smirk and the way he wore his backwards cap while fixing his car in the driveway. It died fast—suffocated by time and distance and his complete disinterest in acknowledging your existence beyond a nod or a side-eye.

By the time he moved back home post-grad, you barely noticed. He was older now, busier, always in his room with the door closed, voice low behind it, like he was on constant phone calls or late-night games or… something.

You didn’t think about him much. He was just Evie’s brother. Part of the background. White noise.

Your focus was always Evie.

She was the one who held your hair when you puked. The one who lent you a dress before every shitty date. The one who knocked on the bathroom door when you were taking too long and said, “You better not be edge-cumming again, bitch,” like it was the most normal sentence in the world.

She talked about sex like it was just part of the air. Blunt. Effortless. She could make herself cum in three minutes flat. She said it with confidence, like breathing.

You hated how easily it came to her. You loved her anyway.

You always felt safe in her house. Safe in her bed, tangled up under a shared blanket, legs overlapping like twins born too far apart. Her room smelled like vanilla and lip gloss and safety. It felt like yours.

The house settled around you like it always did—quiet, gentle, familiar in a way that made your muscles loosen and your brain drift. Even the silence felt padded here. The hum of the fridge downstairs, the occasional pop of cooling pipes, the subtle click of the thermostat shifting—background noise you’d grown so used to, it almost felt like home.

Evie was out cold beside you, one arm thrown carelessly across your stomach, her breath hot against your ribs. She always slept fast after wine. She always slept on you, too—like her body never quite understood boundaries even after all these years. You didn’t mind. It was comforting, the weight of her. Like a grounding wire for the anxious, electric static building low in your belly.

Sleep wasn’t coming for you, though.

You’d been lying there in the dark for the better part of an hour, phone dimmed to nearly unreadable brightness, eyes burning from the glow. Nothing on your feed caught your attention. You’d scrolled past the same content three times already, thumb swiping out of pure muscle memory.

Something restless twisted beneath your skin, persistent and irritating. Not quite horniness, not quite insomnia—just that same pulsing tension that had been sitting heavy between your legs all night. Like your body was trying to tell you something without using words. You shifted under the blanket, trying not to disturb Evie, thighs pressing tighter together to relieve the dull ache. It only made it worse.

The urge to do something about it had been growing for hours.

You’d thought about sneaking off to the bathroom. You’d done it before—quiet, quick, businesslike. Just enough friction to take the edge off before falling asleep, still unsatisfied but too tired to care. The idea barely tempted you anymore. You already knew how it would end: the usual mess of spit-slick fingers, your clit swollen and sore, pussy wet and pulsing and still refusing to give you anything real.

Just the thought of trying again made you clench your jaw.

It was pathetic, the way your body teased you. Wet for no reason. Needy without payout. Over and over again, like clockwork. Like punishment.

You turned your phone off with a quiet sigh and let the screen go black.

For a moment, all you could hear was the creak of the floorboards expanding under the weight of a settling house. A branch tapping against the window. The subtle drag of Evie’s breathing. You stared at the ceiling, tired but tense, willing yourself to shut down the frustration building behind your ribs.

A man’s voice, deep and casual, barely audible through the cracked bedroom doors. Not enough to make out words. Not yet. Just the soft cadence of speech, rising and falling like a secret being shared too close to the edge of the world.

Heeseung’s door was open. Or cracked. Just enough to let a sliver of sound spill out. You hadn’t even realized he was home tonight.

Your body stilled, like it always did when you felt watched—except this time, you were the one doing the watching. Listening, technically. Just barely.

There was a pause, then a laugh. Not his. Another voice. Someone else. Male. Maybe one of his friends from school, the ones who came and went without warning. You couldn’t place the sound, and you didn’t care.

Your focus sharpened the second Heeseung spoke again.

“It’s not that hard. Girls make it harder than it is."

“If she’s not cumming, she’s not listening to her pussy.”

The sentence dropped like a stone in the middle of your chest.

Not whispered. Not dirty. Just… stated. Like a law. Like fact.

Your fingers flexed unconsciously against the blanket. Heat flushed your neck and settled low in your belly, familiar and unwelcome. You didn’t move. Couldn’t.

There was something about the way he said it. Not performative. Not like he was trying to sound cool. Just calm. Confident. Like the kind of guy who got women off without effort and never thought twice about why.

Every hair on your arm lifted. He didn’t stop there.

“And if she won’t listen…I’ll make her.”

No laughter followed that. No teasing. Just a quiet moment where it hung in the air, unchallenged.

You lay frozen in the dark, heart thudding, mouth slightly open. Your legs ached under the blanket, thighs tense and pressed together. You weren’t just turned on—you were caught. Cornered by something you weren’t supposed to hear and couldn’t let go of.

Something clicked. Not like a revelation, not some dramatic internal monologue, just… a shift. A tilt in the floor beneath your feet. A door opening in a room you didn’t realize you were trapped in.

You didn’t even know what you wanted in that moment.

But for the first time in your life, you wondered—really wondered—what your body would feel like under instructions that weren’t your own.

You tried not to think about it for the rest of the day. Swore you wouldn’t spiral.

You kept the overheard words tucked somewhere tight in your chest, smothered under fake laughter and half-listened stories while Evie walked you through her latest dating app disasters. You made it through brunch, through an entire Target run, through two face masks and one trashy Netflix documentary—and you almost convinced yourself you were over it.

But when the house quieted again that night—when Evie fell asleep curled up on the far side of the bed with her arm draped over a pillow instead of you—you gave in.

You waited a while. Just in case she wasn’t fully out. The kind of sleep that could crack open with the creak of floorboards.

And when her breathing evened out, soft and deep and oblivious, you slid out from under the blanket, grabbed your phone, and slipped into the hallway.

The bathroom door closed with a soft click behind you.

You didn’t turn the light on right away. Just stood there for a second in the dark, breathing.

The air was cooler here. The tiles cold against your feet. The smell of Evie’s shampoo still clung to the room—vanilla and something floral, sticky-sweet. You stared at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, barely visible in the silver sliver of hallway light. Your face looked flushed. Too open. Like something had already been peeled back.

You sat on the closed toilet lid, tugged your hoodie over your thighs, and pulled your phone into your lap.

No buildup. No browsing. You knew what you were looking for.

The video you always came back to. The closest thing you’d ever found to what worked. A deep voice. Slow instructions. Just audio—nothing to watch, nothing to focus on but sound.

It wasn’t him, but it didn’t have to be. Not yet.

Your underwear stuck to the heat between your thighs as you slid it down. Still wet from the tension that had been building since that morning. From the second you saw Heeseung in the kitchen and felt your legs press together automatically.

The wetness should’ve been a good sign.

But you already knew how this would go.

You played the video. Turned the volume down low. Closed your eyes.

Your fingers found your clit easily. Rubbed gentle circles, the way the voice said. You tried to breathe through it, tried to slow down, to listen.

There was too much pressure too soon. Your skin twitched with every touch. The angle was wrong. The rhythm never quite synced. Your body jerked between feeling almost there and feeling absolutely nothing.

You tried harder.

Tried picturing something—someone. His voice. His mouth. The way he looked at you this morning like you weren’t just Evie’s friend, like he saw something else.

That made your fingers move faster. Your hips twitch up from the seat, trying to find something—anything—that would tip you over.

But it never came.

Just heat. Just sweat. Just the same stinging tension in your thighs and the wave that built up, crested, and refused to break.

Your hand dropped. Your chest heaved with a breath that sounded too much like a sob.

You sat there for a full minute in silence, pussy swollen, twitching, soaking your hand—and still nothing. You hadn’t cum. Not even close.

Not even fucking close.

Your palm dragged across your inner thigh as you reached for toilet paper, the wet slick of your own arousal catching against your skin, obscene and bitter and useless. You wiped your hand clean, flushed, washed it under the tap in a daze.

Your reflection stared back at you in the mirror, flushed cheeks, wild eyes, bottom lip bitten raw.

This wasn’t working.

You couldn’t do this by yourself. Not anymore.

The shame didn’t even hit you until you opened the door, stepped back into the hall, and looked toward Heeseung’s room.

You didn’t remember walking from the bathroom to his door. Not really. Your body moved on instinct, fingers still damp with failure, breath shallow and uneven like you’d been running—not down a hallway, but in circles inside your own skin. Everything felt hot and wrong, like you were standing too close to something dangerous and still leaning closer.

The light from under his door was soft, pale blue. The kind of glow that came from a computer screen and sleepless hours. It made the hallway feel colder. Your skin felt clammy beneath your hoodie, thighs still tacky with your own arousal, pulse thudding hard behind your ears. You didn’t even try to calm yourself before raising your hand. There wasn’t enough time. There wasn’t enough anything left.

You knocked.

Soft, quick. Regretted it immediately.

Nothing.

The silence on the other side stretched just long enough to make you feel stupid. You should’ve gone back to Evie’s room. Should’ve locked the bathroom door and buried your face in your hands like you always did. Should’ve swallowed the shame and left it to rot where it always did: at the bottom of your throat.

Your hand was already dropping when the doorknob turned.

Heeseung opened the door halfway, leaning into the frame, and for a second you couldn’t speak. You weren’t expecting him to look like that—hoodie sleeves pushed up to his forearms, collar askew, hair a damp mess like he’d run his hands through it one too many times. His sweatshorts hung low on his hips, legs bare, skin flushed warm like he’d just come out of the shower… or just come. You had no way of knowing which. And it made your brain short-circuit either way.

He didn’t look surprised to see you. Just confused.

His eyes dragged down your body with a slow kind of calculation, and you swore you saw the moment they caught on the way your thighs were pressed together, your bare legs twitching under the hem of your hoodie. The way your breath hitched in your throat. The way your fingers—still wet, still trembling—curled tighter at your side.

He blinked once, brows pulling in slightly.

“You good?”

The question was simple, quiet. But it hit like an echo in a room with no furniture. You were not good. Not even close.

Your voice came out before you could soften it. Flat, direct. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

He blinked again. Caught off guard this time.

“…What?”

“I just need to know,” you said quickly, words tumbling over each other. “Before I say anything. It matters.”

He stared at you for a beat, mouth twitching like he wasn’t sure if he should be amused or suspicious.

“No. I don’t.”

You exhaled like someone had untied a knot inside your chest.

“Fuck.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “What?”

“If you said yes,” you muttered, eyes darting to the floor, “I would’ve had an excuse not to ask you.”

That made him pause.

He shifted his weight, crossed his arms over his chest, leaned into the doorframe like he was settling in. His voice was a little lower when he asked, “Ask me what?”

Your whole body burned. There was no easy way to say it. No casual phrasing. No safe distance between you and the truth anymore. You didn’t have the energy to dance around it.

“You said something last night,” you started, forcing yourself to look at him. “About girls who can’t finish. About how they’re not listening to their bodies.”

He watched you carefully. No expression, just the slow, measured study of a man waiting for the rest.

“I heard it,” you added. “By accident. But it’s been stuck in my head. And I thought—I don’t know, I thought maybe you were right.”

Still nothing. Just his gaze crawling over your face, down to your knees, like he was trying to see where this was going before letting himself speak.

You swallowed, the taste of failure still thick in your throat. “I tried again tonight. Bathroom. Just now. I’ve been trying for years, and it’s always the same. Nothing works. I can’t finish. I touch myself, and it just—goes nowhere.”

Your cheeks burned. You didn’t even know why you were telling him all this. You barely knew the guy. The last time you’d had a real conversation was probably three birthdays ago when he offered you a ride and you said no because he smelled like weed and fuckboy cologne.

But here you were. Standing in front of him like some half-dressed, sweat-slick confession, spilling everything.

And he still hadn’t said a word.

Your next breath shook as it left you.

“I don’t want you to touch me,” you said, quieter now. “I just want to ask… if you’d tell me what to do.”

That got something out of him. A small breath through his nose, not quite a laugh, not quite disbelief. His eyes dropped—lower this time—to your legs again, to the edge of your hoodie, to the bare skin flushed and prickling under the hallway air.

He nodded once toward you, chin tilting. “Your hand’s still wet.”

You froze.

His voice was low, unreadable. “You tried that hard, huh?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

He stepped back.

Just a few inches. Just enough to open the door wider. The light from inside poured out around him, cool and soft and full of static.

He held your gaze.

“Come in. Close the door behind you.”

The door shuts with a soft click behind you, and just like that, the house disappears. Evie’s room, the hallway, your entire carefully contained world—it all drops away. There’s only the low glow of his monitor casting pale blue light across the carpet and the quiet hum of something electric in the corner, like the room itself is holding its breath.

You hover near the door for a second, not sure what to do with your hands, your legs, your shame.

Heeseung’s already sitting, legs wide in his desk chair, turned toward you like he was waiting the whole night for this. He shifts, pushes himself up slightly, and drags the chair forward—lazily, unbothered—until it sits right in front of the bed. Close enough that if you spread your legs, he’d have a front-row seat.

Then he flips the chair around, straddling it backwards like some cocky delinquent in detention, arms crossed over the backrest, chin resting casually on top. His expression doesn’t change. He just watches you.

“Go ahead,” he says, voice calm and low, like this is just another Tuesday night. “Sit.”

You make your way to the bed, legs tense, breath shallow, and perch at the edge like it might bite. Your thighs clench on instinct, hoodie pulled low, trying to shield what you already know he’s seen. You’re still warm from the bathroom. Still soaked. Still aching.

His eyes drift down. Slow. Lazy. No shame.

You fidget.

Heeseung doesn’t move. “Don’t get shy on me now. You came in here asking for a masturbation lesson, not a bedtime story.”

Your lips twitch. You almost laugh. Almost.

He lifts his chin. “Tell me what you usually do.”

The question lands harder than it should. Not because it’s dirty, but because it’s so simple.

You blink. “Like… where I touch?”

“Yeah.”

You hesitate. “I usually just go straight to my clit.”

“Figures.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “And then what? Rub the fuck out of it ‘til it gets sore and wonder why it doesn’t work?”

Your mouth falls open in a small gasp. “Excuse me?”

He shrugs one shoulder, unbothered. “Don’t take it personal. That’s what most girls do. It’s not your fault you think the goal is speed over sense.”

You don’t respond, but your silence is answer enough.

He leans in a little, forearms resting on the chair back, gaze glued to your bare thighs. There’s no hunger in it—not yet. Just observation. Like he’s assessing you.

“If your pussy had a voice,” he says smoothly, “she’d be screaming at you to chill the fuck out.”

You’re quiet for a long second. Because the worst part is… he’s not wrong.

He watches you squirm, and something like amusement passes over his features. Not cruel, but smug.

“Take your time,” he says, gentler now. “You rush her, she locks up. Doesn’t matter how wet you are.”

“…She?” you murmur, lifting a brow.

Heeseung shrugs again, like it’s obvious. “Yeah. She.” His eyes flick to yours. “You don’t gotta name her or write poetry about her, but you should probably stop treating her like a vending machine.”

Your laugh breaks before you can stop it. Quick and sharp, nerves bleeding out of your throat. “You’re so annoying.”

“And yet, you’re still here,” he says with a smirk, eyes dark. “Go on. Show me how you start.”

Everything tightens. You feel the weight of his voice low in your belly.

You don’t move right away.

He raises a brow. “You said you didn’t want me to touch you. That’s cool. But I need to see what you’re doing wrong.”

Your breath hitches.

Your hand moves on instinct—slow, shaky—and dips beneath the hem of your hoodie, then under the band of your panties. You’re already wet. Embarrassingly wet. And when your fingers graze over your clit, you flinch. It’s too sensitive. Too much. Your hips jerk a little, and you pretend not to notice the way his eyes follow the motion.

You rub. Once. Twice. It’s not bad. It’s what you always do.

But still—nothing clicks.

Heeseung tilts his head. “You’re too stiff.”

“I’m nervous,” you admit quietly.

“Don’t be.” His voice drops half an octave. “You look hot.”

The way he says it—it doesn’t sound like a compliment. Just a fact. Like he’s telling you what time it is. Like your soaked fingers and clenched thighs are something he’s been picturing all night.

“You’re thinking too much,” he adds. “Trying to force it instead of feel it.”

Your hand stills.

He leans forward slightly, his voice quieter now, more intimate. “Try this. Press your hand flat. Just hold her. No rubbing. No tapping. Just… feel her.”

You hesitate, then obey.

The flat of your hand settles between your legs, heat blooming up your arm from the contact. Your whole body clenches around it.

“Feel that?”

You nod. Barely.

“That’s what she likes,” he murmurs. “You’ve been poking at her like she’s a fucking keyboard. No wonder she’s not putting out.”

You let out a breathy laugh—half scandalized, half aroused. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re soaking through your panties,” he says, deadpan.

Your breath catches. Heeseung doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t look away.

He sits there like he’s got all the time in the world. Like he’s doing you a favor. Like he’s enjoying this. You’re not even sure he’s hard yet—but he will be. You can feel it building. Between you. In you.

He lets the moment hang.

Then: “Now—slow circles. Don’t speed up unless she tells you to.”

“She doesn’t talk,” you whisper, teasing without confidence.

His gaze is heavy. Steady.

“She does,” he says, voice like heat sliding under your skin. “You just haven’t been listening.”

The room feels hotter now.

Not just the air—your skin, your mouth, your thighs. Sweat clings to the backs of your knees, damp beneath the bunched-up hoodie, and your panties are so wet they’re practically glued to one thigh. Your hips keep twitching without your permission, rolling up slightly with every pass of your fingers. It’s not graceful. It’s not some porn fantasy. It’s messy and uneven and real, and Heeseung is watching every second of it like it’s the only thing worth watching.

You keep thinking you should feel embarrassed. Ashamed. You’re spread open on his bed, hand stuffed between your legs, whining softly every time you stroke a little too hard and have to ease back again—but you’re too far gone now to stop. Your cheeks are flushed, lashes wet, lips parted, and you can’t look away from him.

He hasn’t blinked once.

Heeseung is still straddling the backward chair, elbows resting on the top, chin on one hand like this is casual. Normal. Like you’re just some half-naked girl jerking off in front of him for practice and he’s your substitute teacher for the night.

The only thing that’s changed is his posture.

His knees are spread wider than before. His forearms are tense. One hand grips the edge of the chair a little tighter every time your body jerks, and you don’t miss the way his jaw flexes every time your breath stutters or your voice cracks.

You’re doing this to him.

But not enough.

Not enough to make it stop hurting. Not enough to make the ache go away. Not enough to finish.

You’re trying. God, you’re trying.

Your fingers rub in slow circles, not too fast now. You’re listening. You are. But your body keeps tensing at the edge, like it’s scared to fall off the cliff it’s been building for years. Your hand’s cramping. Your clit throbs. Your stomach clenches like you’re close—and then it dips, again and again.

It’s good. So good.

But it’s not enough.

You choke on a frustrated sound, somewhere between a sob and a moan, and your free hand fists the blanket beneath you like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Heeseung speaks, finally, voice low and steady. “Still rushing her.”

“I’m not,” you whisper.

“You are. I can see it.”

You shake your head, breath stuttering. “I’m not trying to—I swear, I’m—” You gasp. “It’s just—it’s not—”

You stop. Words catch in your throat. Your hips are rocking now, involuntarily, chasing a sensation that keeps pulling away the second you get close. Your fingers are wet, your pussy’s pulsing, and it still feels like you’re just rubbing up against a wall.

“It’s not enough,” you breathe out, broken. “I—I can’t—fuck—she’s not listening.”

Heeseung leans forward slightly, something sharp flashing in his eyes.

“Oh, she’s listening,” he says. “You’re just not talking to her the right way.”

You whimper. “Then tell me what to say.”

That makes his mouth twitch—just barely. Like he’s been waiting for that.

“Tell me what she’s feeling first.”

“I—” Your voice cracks. “She’s tight. Warm. I feel her—pulsing. Like she wants something but—she’s not opening.”

He tilts his head slightly, gaze dark. “She wants to be filled.”

You nod.

“No,” he says. “Say it.”

Your chest heaves. Your hand hasn’t stopped moving, rubbing slow, desperate circles around your clit. “She wants to be filled.”

“Say it like you mean it.”

“She wants to be fucking filled,” you whine. “She’s throbbing—she’s soaking—fuck, I can feel her squeezing nothing.”

Heeseung exhales slowly, eyes flicking down between your legs again.

“There you go,” he murmurs. “Now she’s talking.”

Your fingers glide lower, catching more slick and sliding back up. Everything’s soaked. You’re dripping down onto the sheets, and your thighs are trembling from the strain of keeping your hips lifted just right.

“She needs more,” you pant. “She’s clenching—she’s starving—”

Heeseung’s hand flexes around the edge of the chair again. His voice drops, almost to a growl. “So feed her.”

You moan—high and breathy—and press harder, circling your clit faster now, the way your body wants. Your lips are wet, your fingers slipping, but it doesn’t matter. Everything is slick and hot and alive.

“You’re soaked,” he mutters, eyes burning into you. “Look at your fucking fingers.”

You do. It’s obscene. Your hand shines in the light, your fingers coated in slick. You barely recognize your own body like this. Ruined. Responsive.

“She’s begging,” he says softly. “And you’re finally listening.”

You whine, eyes squeezing shut. Your free hand presses against your lower belly, trying to hold the heat in. Your pussy twitches at the pressure.

“She’s so fucking greedy,” you gasp. “She won’t stop pulling—I can’t—I can’t keep up—”

“You don’t have to,” he says. “She knows what she’s doing. Let her take it.”

You don’t even realize how loud you’ve gotten until you hear yourself moan again—shameless, cracked open, shaking from the inside out.

Your legs spread wider. You’re not trying to hide anymore. Not from him. Not from yourself.

You’re right there.

You’re going to break.

He’s just watching. Like it’s his favorite thing he’s ever seen.

You’re right on the edge, and this time it’s not teasing.

It’s sharp. Fast. Inevitable.

Your legs are trembling now, hips jerking with every motion, and your fingers are soaked—slipping against your clit, coating your inner thighs, dripping down the crease of your ass like your body’s trying to fuck itself open. Every stroke sends another wave of tension through you, and there’s no holding it anymore. Your body is begging. Your pussy’s leaking, twitching, clenching around nothing—and Heeseung watches like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You don’t even realize you’re moaning until you hear it echo back at you in the small room. High-pitched. Desperate. Wet.

The sound of your pussy is louder now too. Sticky and obscene, each rub slicker than the last. You can hear it every time you roll your hips into your palm.

Heeseung doesn’t say a word for a second too long.

You lift your head, eyes glazed over, panting.

His eyes are darker now. Half-lidded. Focused on your pussy like he’s reading it better than your face.

He shifts in his chair. Spreads his knees wider. His hand dips into the front of his sweatshorts, slow and casual, like he can’t ignore it anymore. You catch a glimpse of his fingers wrapping around himself—and your breath catches so hard your vision blurs.

He’s so hard.

His voice comes out deeper. Filthy. Measured like it’s the only thing anchoring him in the room.

“Look at that messy little cunt.”

Your body jerks at the word. You’ve never heard it said like that. Never felt it hit like that.

Heeseung strokes himself once, slow and firm under the fabric.

“She’s drooling all over your fingers. So fucking hungry. Bet she’s never been this loud for you before.”

“She hasn’t,” you breathe. “She never—she never—”

“You’ve been starving her,” he says, still jerking himself lazily. “Touching her like she’s a problem instead of a fucking meal.”

Your hand speeds up, and he sees it. Hears the slap of slick. You’re humping into your fingers now, sloppy and desperate and so close you could scream.

Heeseung leans forward, one elbow braced against the back of the chair.

“You wanna cum, baby?”

You nod frantically, but it’s not enough.

“Use your words.”

Your voice comes out cracked. “Yes. Please—I wanna cum—I need it—”

“Need what?” he pushes.

“I need her to fucking break,” you sob. “She’s clenching—she’s begging—she needs to cum, she needs it—”

“Then let her,” he growls. “Don’t fucking hold it. Let her make a mess.”

You whimper, fingers frantic, back arching off the bed.

And that’s when he says it—low and hot and foul.

“Let her fuck your fingers, slut.”

You snap.

Your body locks up, then shatters. You cum so hard your legs shake, hips jerking forward, thighs squeezing around your own hand as your pussy gushes over your fingers in sticky, messy waves. The moan that rips from your throat is broken, cracked, half-wet from tears.

It doesn’t hit you right away.

At first, there’s just white. Blinding. A full-body seizure of pleasure as your cunt clenches around nothing, soaking your own fingers, mouth open in a moan that doesn’t even sound like you.

It crashes over you fast. Wet. Messy.

You cum harder than you ever have in your life—harder than you thought was even possible—and your body just keeps going, hips jerking, slick dripping past your knuckles, your voice cracking on every gasp.

Heeseung is still there.

You know he is. You can feel his eyes on you, feel his breath in the space between your bodies, but you can’t look at him. Not right now. Not like this.

And then it fades.

That warm, bright static in your brain flickers out. Your thighs twitch. Your hand finally drops, fingers soaked, wrist aching, clit too sensitive to touch again.

What’s left is the sound of your breathing. The slick, wet mess beneath your hips. The embarrassment flooding in all at once like a second wave.

Reality slams back into you hard.

You’re laid out across his bed—sweaty, flushed, thighs spread wide and soaked all the way down to the crease of your ass. Your pussy’s still twitching, swollen and glistening, your panties bunched at one knee, hoodie halfway pushed up your stomach.

Your fingers shine in the low light. Still wet. Still shaking.

You sit up fast, panic sweeping over your skin like ice water. “Shit—fuck.”

Your hand fumbles to pull your hoodie down, yanking it over your thighs, shoving your panties back into place even though they’re absolutely soaked through. The fabric clings wetly to your pussy and only makes the mess feel worse.

Heeseung hasn’t moved.

Still in the chair. Still one hand inside his shorts. He looks completely unbothered. Calm. Like you didn’t just cum your entire soul out in front of him.

You can’t meet his eyes.

He watches you fuss with the hem of your hoodie, your hands still trembling slightly as you try to make yourself look decent.

“Didn’t say stop,” he says mildly.

You glare at him, cheeks burning. “I came. Pretty sure that’s the goal, right?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Just surprised you’re acting all shy now. That pussy was practically talking thirty seconds ago.”

“Jesus—” you squeeze your eyes shut, bury your face in your hands.

Heeseung grins. Not mean. Not mocking. Just amused.

“You do realize how loud you were, right?” he adds. “I thought the bed was gonna snap in half.”

“Please stop talking,” you groan, voice muffled.

“You were crying,” he says like it’s a compliment, hand still lazily palming himself under his shorts. “That shit was beautiful.”

You peek at him through your fingers. He’s still hard. Still watching you with that same steady calm, like this is fine. Like this is normal.

He doesn’t even seem fazed.

That somehow makes the ache between your legs flare again. Weak, overstimulated, but greedy.

You clear your throat. “I didn’t realize I—um. That I could… do that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Cum?”

You shoot him a look.

Heeseung laughs, finally letting go of himself. “You’ve been fighting her for years. All I did was give you directions.”

You tuck your knees up into your chest, arms wrapped around them. You feel like you just stripped naked in front of someone who stayed fully clothed—and now he’s just lounging there like you didn’t just show him the most private part of yourself.

You sit in that awkward silence for a few seconds longer.

Heeseung stretches, chair creaking slightly. “So,” he says, tone casual. “Lesson two tomorrow?”

You blink.

“…There’s a second lesson?”

He smiles slow, eyes dropping to your thighs again. “You think she’s done learning?”

Your pussy twitches beneath your soaked panties.

Your legs are still weak from the first night when you leave.

Just a few days back home. Just a quick visit. You didn’t think it would matter—but the second you cross the county line, your pussy starts aching like she knows she’s been abandoned. Like she misses his voice already.

You think about texting him before you even unpack your overnight bag.

It starts that fast—barely through the front door, barely through dinner with your parents, barely through pretending to care about someone’s new side hustle or whatever cousin just had a baby, and already your mind is slipping.

Already you’re restless. Already your body feels too awake. You can still feel the slick sticking to the inside of your thighs from last night, from the way he sat in that chair like he was doing you a favor while you touched yourself for the first time like it meant something. It hasn’t gone away. The ache stayed with you.

That trembling throb between your legs that didn’t fade after one orgasm—or two—or three. And now, here you are. Sitting in your childhood bedroom like you didn’t just learn how to listen to your pussy in someone else’s bed with someone else’s voice in your ear.

You last all of twelve hours. Maybe thirteen if you count sleep, but that’s cheating. You keep checking your phone like a freak. Not even for a message—just to see his name.

You scroll through the notifications like maybe he’ll magically show up. You open his contact. Stare at the little circle icon. You type a text. Delete it.

Type again. Delete. Pace the room. Pull your hair up. Let it fall. Lie on the bed. Toss the blanket off. Roll onto your stomach, then your back, then sit up again because your body’s too hot and your thoughts won’t stop dragging back to the sound of his voice saying “Good girl. She’s listening now.”

You try to distract yourself. Put music on. Stare at the ceiling. Scroll through reels. But the tension is building and it’s not casual. It’s deep. It’s mean.

Like your pussy’s crawling up your spine and whispering call him over and over again. And finally, like a fucking addict, you give in.

You don’t try to be subtle. Your fingers tremble as you type the message—“Can I call you?”—and hit send before you can regret it. Your breath catches in your throat. Heart pounding. Shame twisting in your gut like you’ve already crossed a line and he hasn’t even replied. But then your phone buzzes. Two texts in a row. You click without thinking.

No. I’ll call you.

Speaker on. Hands ready. Nothing else.

You don’t even get a second to prepare. The call comes in instantly, and you fumble to answer it, press speaker, toss the phone onto your pillow and sit back, legs shaking under your blanket. You’re wearing nothing but a big t-shirt—no bra, no panties. Like your body already knew what was coming.

His voice is in your ear the second the line connects.

Low. Thick. Wrecked.

“You waited all day just to fuck yourself to my voice, didn’t you?”

The sound alone makes your thighs clamp together. You can’t answer. You don’t know what to say. You feel called out, ruined, exposed, and he hasn’t even seen you.

“You’re pathetic,” he breathes, and it’s not cruel—it’s reverent. Like he’s turned on by the depth of your desperation. “You left for less than twenty-four hours and she’s already starving.”

Your breath comes out shaky. “She hasn’t shut up.”

“I bet. That little pussy’s been crying for attention, hasn’t she? Soaking your panties, throbbing for no reason. Did you even try to touch her?”

Your hand slides down your stomach. Shame floods your chest. “I tried last night.”

“And?”

Your fingers drift over your mound, soft and slow.

“…Didn’t work.”

“Of course it didn’t.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “Because she’s not trained to your fingers. She’s trained to my voice.”

You nearly choke.

“Take the blanket off.”

You do.

“T-shirt stays. I want you messy under it. Like a filthy little secret.”

You obey, chest rising. The air hits your bare skin and your nipples pebble instantly under the thin cotton. You slide your hand under the hem and find yourself dripping already—your folds slippery and warm, your clit throbbing at the first brush.

“Fuck. You’re already wet.”

You don’t answer.

“Don’t ignore me. Say it.”

You whimper. “I’m wet.”

“Where?”

Your hand slides lower. “Everywhere.”

“Let me hear it.”

You drag your fingers through your folds, then lift them to the mic.

Squish. Slick. Wet.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “She’s fucking leaking for me.”

“She won’t stop,” you pant. “She’s been clenching—she’s needy. I can’t—I can’t even think straight.”

“She doesn’t need you to think. She needs you to listen.”

You nod like he can see you.

“You touching your clit yet?”

“No,” you whisper. “Just teasing.”

“Don’t tease her. Feed her.”

You obey. Your fingers find your clit and press slow, warm circles into the swollen skin. Your hips twitch immediately. Your body jolts with relief. Like it’s been waiting for this.

“Fuck. That’s it. Let her roll her hips. Let her grind on your fingers.”

You do.

And you moan. Loud. Wet. Pathetic.

“You sound like you’re crying.”

“I might be,” you choke out. “I’m—I’ve been on edge all day. She’s screaming—”

“Then shut her up.”

Your fingers move faster. Your breath turns ragged. The slick is everywhere now—coating your palm, sliding down your ass, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can hear it—slap, slap, slap—and you know he can too.

“God, listen to her,” he says. “She’s fucking talking again. Slapping wet, loud as hell, crying to be filled.”

Your thighs start to shake.

“Don’t you dare stop.”

“Heeseung—fuck, I’m close—”

“She wants to cum. So let her.”

You cum hard, back arching, legs tensed, voice cracking open around a sob as your pussy convulses around nothing—just your fingers, just your shame, just his voice dragging it out of you with nothing but command.

“Again,” he growls. “Don’t you dare take your hand off her. You begged for this. You waited all fucking day for it.”

You keep going. Because you can’t stop. Because this is his now.

You don’t get a break.

Heeseung doesn’t let you.

After that first call—the one where you came so hard you swore you saw stars—you thought maybe the tension would ease up. Maybe you’d get to breathe. But you don’t. Because the second you wake up the next morning, there’s already a text waiting for you.

Morning. She hungry?

Your pussy clenches on reflex.

You bite your lip, cheeks flushing under the covers.

Yes.

His reply is instant.

Good. edge yourself until you’re shaking. No cumming. No cheating. You’ll send me a pic of your fingers when you’re done.

That’s it. No teasing. No sweet talk. Just commands. Direct. Cruel. And of course—you obey.

You finger yourself that morning with shaking hands, grinding into your palm in the silence of your old bedroom with one hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. You stop just short of release three times. Your panties are soaked. The sheets beneath you are ruined.

You send the photo.

Two slick fingers, gleaming. One droplet hanging from your wrist like a taunt.

He doesn’t reply until hours later.

Beautiful. Don’t clean her up. Let her stick to your skin. I want her to haunt you all day.

That’s how it starts.

Sometimes it’s a call. Sometimes it’s just a photo prompt. Sometimes it’s voice notes—low, slow, whispered filth that you replay in the bathroom on full volume with your thighs clenched so tight you can barely breathe.

Another day: make a mess on your favorite pair of panties. Send proof. Don’t wash them. Fold them and put them in your drawer like a secret. Like she remembers.

When you can’t call—family dinners, company in the house, a wedding event—he doesn’t complain. He just adapts.

He sends you three voice notes in a row, each one filthier than the last.

“Are you wearing panties right now?”

“She’s wet just from this, isn’t she?”

“Put your phone between your legs. Let my voice buzz against her while you grind.”

You do. In the middle of the day. On the edge of your childhood bed. With the door locked and your hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sound of you cumming on command.

Every time you text him, he knows what you need before you say it.

On your knees. Two fingers. Say my name when you finish. That’s all.

You cum like a trained animal.

By the end of the fourth day, you’re overstimulated and aching. Your cunt stays warm. Your clit stays swollen. You can’t think straight without hearing his voice. You can’t fall asleep without a pillow between your legs and your phone under your ear, replaying the way he said your name like it tasted good.

He doesn’t let you get comfortable.

I want her ruined by the time you get back. Wet stains on your thighs. Bruised from your own fingers. No excuses. You belong to me now, yeah?

You’re at the dinner table when the text comes in.

There’s a bowl of pasta in front of you. Your uncle’s talking about traffic. Your mom’s pouring more wine. And your phone buzzes in your lap—one tiny, harmless vibration you almost ignore until you see the name on your lockscreen.

Heeseung.

Your chest tightens immediately. A hot ripple runs down your spine. You unlock it under the table, heart already picking up speed, thighs pressed tight together like that’s gonna help anything.

You expect a voice note. Maybe an instruction. Instead, it’s just a single message.

Don’t open this here. I’m serious.

You excuse yourself. Bathroom. You try to walk casually, but your legs feel unstable, like your body knows what’s coming and is bracing for it. You shut the door. Lock it. Sit down on the closed toilet seat. And then you open the message.

It’s not a photo. Not a voice note. Just a block of text.

And it destroys you.

I want you dripping. Right now. I want your thighs sticky. I want your pussy hot and twitching and swollen like she’s just been edged for an hour and she’s still not allowed to cum. I want her pulsing around nothing. Squeezing air. Leaking like she misses my cock even though she’s never had it. That’s how good I want her trained. That she misses me even though I’ve never fucked her. I want you to slide your hand into your panties and feel her spit for me. Feel how filthy she’s gotten just from reading my words. Not even hearing my voice. Just letters on a screen and she’s frothing like a brainless little thing. I want her throbbing. Sore. Pink. Aching. I want you to pull your panties to the side and look at what I’ve done to you. How she opens for nothing. How she clenches for nothing. How she cries, fucking cries, when she doesn’t get touched. I want her messy. Slutty. Wet enough to embarrass you. Wet enough you can’t clean it up with one tissue. Wet enough that if someone walked into that bathroom right now, they’d smell her. No fingers. Not yet. Just pressure. Palm down. Let her hump. Let her grind. Let her get yourself dirty. She knows what to do. She doesn’t need permission anymore. You’re gonna leak down your leg just reading this, aren’t you? She’s already twitching. Already soaking. She knows what she is now. A thing that exists to be used. To be made wet. To be trained.

You stare at your screen. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.

And you feel it—that slow, steady drip.

You slide your hand down between your legs and whimper when your fingers meet your panties—soaked through. Hot and sticky, your folds puffy and swollen, everything throbbing with need.

You spread your legs wider. There’s no stopping it. You have to.

You push your panties aside, just like he said, and when you look down, your cunt is shining. Slick lips parted, clit swollen and begging, a string of wet clinging between your folds when you breathe too hard.

You cup her with your whole palm and rock once.

You grind again. Harder. The heel of your hand pressing directly on your clit. Your hips move faster, panting now, forehead pressed against your bent knee as your pussy humps your own hand like she’s starved.

You’re fucking yourself with no fingers. Just pressure. Just filth. Just his words rotting your brain and your pussy loving it.

You don’t stop until your legs lock, jaw clenched tight to muffle the moan that rips through your throat. Your pussy convulses, grinding down hard, cumming in waves against your own palm until you’re crying silently, thighs soaked, panties a mess, body twitching from the force of it.

When it’s over, you’re wrecked. You sit there in silence. Breathing heavy. Panties still pulled to the side, hand drenched, cunt gaping and twitching like she’s still looking for him.

You snap a photo.

Not of your face. Just your hand. Soaked. Ruined. Slick covering your wrist, dripping down your knuckles.

You send it. No caption. A minute later, his reply lights up your screen.

That’s how she’s supposed to look. Every day until you get home.

You don’t even knock.

You could, but what’s the point? He told you to come over as soon as you got back. No texts. No warning. Just a short message yesterday night:

You better show up dripping.

And you are.

The shorts you wore are damp at the crotch, your hoodie clinging to the sweat on your lower back. Every shift of your thighs against the car seat on the drive over made you squirm. By the time you’re standing in front of his door, your cunt is throbbing. Empty. Trained. Starving.

He opens it like he already knew you were there.

Barefoot. Hoodie. Nothing underneath.

He stares at you for a second, quiet. His eyes drop to your legs, to the way you’re fidgeting, clenching, trying not to press your thighs together. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t speak.

Just opens the door wider and lets you in.

You step past him. Silent. Heat prickling under your skin. His presence is loud, even without words. You can feel the pressure building already—your pussy knows. She’s aware. Aware of the air, of the scent of him, of how close he is now after five days of only hearing him through a speaker.

He closes the door behind you. And waits.

You turn to him, hands still curled into your sleeves. “I did everything.”

He lifts a brow. “Yeah?”

You nod. Swallow hard. “Every day.”

Heeseung steps forward slowly. Stops in front of you. His eyes flick down, over your body, like he’s looking for confirmation.

“You leaking?”

Your breath catches. “Yes.”

“Prove it.”

Your heart slams against your ribs. But you don’t hesitate.

Your fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and tug them down in one smooth motion. They hit the floor and you step out of them, bare underneath, thighs sticky and glistening. Your hoodie barely covers your hips now. One inch higher and he’d see everything.

He doesn’t touch you.

“Show me,” he says, voice low.

Your breath hitches again—but you drop to your knees. Not because he asked. Because your body knows what to do now.

You kneel between his feet on the hardwood floor, hands moving to part your thighs so he can see. You pull the hoodie up to your waist and slide two fingers between your folds—dripping. It spreads so easily. Glossy. Viscous. Your pussy folds open for your own touch like it’s nothing new. Like she’s been practicing all week.

You keep your eyes on him the whole time.

And when your fingers come back up, soaked and glistening, you hold them out. Heeseung watches you in silence.

Then leans forward, slow and deliberate. He takes your fingers into his mouth and sucks—deep, slow, tongue curling around them like it’s a reward.

Your hips jerk slightly. Your cunt clenches hard. He pulls off with a wet pop and stares down at you.

“She tastes trained.”

You nod.

“She beg yet?”

You exhale. “She never shut up.”

He clicks his tongue. “Yeah?”

Then he grabs your jaw. Fingers firm but not rough, tilting your face up to his.

“You want her filled?”

You nod again. “Please.”

“Not yet,” he says. “She’s not ready.”

“I’m ready—she’s so ready, I’ve been—”

“I don’t care what you think. You’re not here to make decisions. You’re here to do what I say.” He lets go of your face. “You wanna get fed? Earn it. Lay down. Show me how she begs.”

You scramble onto the bed.

Flat on your back. Legs spread. Cunt on display. Dripping.

You’re already on your back, knees drawn up, thighs spread and trembling, cunt pulsing with heat that’s been building all week. You don’t try to hide it. You can’t. Your pussy’s wet. Loud. Lips glossy and parted, folds flushed and twitching like she knows the moment has finally come. She’s been teased. Trained. Denied. You’ve been filling her with fingers and pressure and your own voice, but never this. Never him. And now he’s standing at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like he’s finally ready to eat.

But he doesn’t touch you first.

He picks your shorts up off the floor, turns them inside out—and finds your soaked panties tangled in the legs. He peels them out slowly, sticky with your slick, the thin fabric darkened and clinging to itself. You watch, breath caught, legs still open, burning with shame as he brings them up to his face.

And sniffs.

Deep.

He inhales like it’s a fucking ritual. Eyes half-lidded. Thumb pressing into the crotch to smear the wetness around before dragging it across his lip. His tongue flicks out—tastes it.

“Jesus fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “She’s been marinating in this.”

Your body jolts. Your hands fist the sheets.

“She’s loud, too.” His voice drops lower. “I haven’t even touched her and she’s already talking. Look at her. Fucking twitching. Dripping. Spreading herself open like she knows who she belongs to.”

“Heeseung—” You whimper.

“Shut up.”

He tosses your panties to the side and climbs onto the bed, slow and smooth, eyes never leaving your cunt. He settles between your legs and just kneels there for a moment. Breathing her in. Hands on your thighs. Pushing them wider. Spreading you so open you can feel the air hit your slick.

You’re soaked. You know it. You can feel it, the slick sliding down into the dip of your ass, the way your folds part with every breath, your clit poking out, hot and swollen.

He just stares.

“You fucking trained her like this,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You really did it. Came like a good little slut every night just to keep her hungry.”

“She’s starving,” you whisper, voice shaking.

“I can see that.”

His thumbs press into the crease of your thighs, holding you open. His face lowers. Inches away. His breath hits your folds and your hips twitch violently.

He doesn’t lick you.

Not yet.

He just hovers. His nose skims your inner thigh. Then up. Right up the slick slit, dragging his breath across your folds until your body shudders. He breathes her in again—this time slower. Longer. Right at the source.

“God,” he mutters. “She fucking smells like obedience.”

You sob.

And then he spits.

Right on your pussy.

Hot. Heavy. Messy.

It splashes over your clit, drips between your folds, mixes with your slick and makes everything worse.

Your hips roll. You can’t stop it.

“Don’t you fucking move,” he growls. “She’s getting attention. She better stay still.”

And finally—finally—his tongue drags up your slit. A long, slow lick from hole to clit that ends with his mouth wrapped around it, sucking hard.

Your hands fly to his hair. Your spine arches off the bed.

But he pins you with one forearm across your stomach and doesn’t stop.

He eats you like a man starved. Like you’ve been feeding her for him. Keeping her ready. Keeping her needy. His mouth is everywhere—tongue licking up everything you’ve been saving, spit and slick and mess pooling under your ass while he moans into you.

“That’s it,” he groans against your clit. “Let me taste five fucking days of begging.”

You cry out, thighs clenching.

But he slaps your pussy with his hand—sharp, wet, punishing.

“Open.”

You go limp. You can’t fight it. You don’t want to.

He eats you like it’s personal. Tongue flat. Licking. Circling. Spitting again. Your clit’s too swollen, too sensitive, but he doesn’t care. He mumbles into you—filth you can barely understand because he’s too focused on devouring.

“She’s so fucking loud. She won’t shut up. You hear that?”

You do.

Your pussy makes noise with every lick—squelching, wet, obscene.

“I didn’t even fuck her yet,” he growls. “And she’s already creaming.”

You try to cum. You try.

But he pulls back just as your thighs start to shake, just as your stomach seizes.

“Nope. She’s not getting fed all the way until I’ve felt her on my cock.”

You nod frantically, fingers gripping the sheets, desperate.

Heeseung leans back, licking his lips, chin soaked, eyes wild.

“She’s ready,” he says. “She’s starving.”

He’s already got two fingers hooked inside you when he tells you to open your mouth.

Not to kiss him. Not to speak. Just to take it.

He shoves his fingers past your lips—soaked in your own slick, the same fingers he’s been curling deep inside your cunt, dragging against that spot that makes your eyes roll back. You gag around them, moaning as the taste floods your tongue—salty, sour, yours. He pushes them down onto your tongue, presses hard until your spit leaks out around them and drips down your chin.

“Swallow it,” he mutters, eyes locked on your face. “That’s what obedience tastes like.”

You do. Of course you do.

Because you’d do anything he says.

And he knows it.

He wipes the slick from your lips with his thumb, drags it down your throat, then shifts forward—kneeling between your trembling thighs, lining himself up with your soaked entrance like he’s been waiting years for this moment.

You stare down at his cock, thick and flushed and leaking at the tip, and your whole body tenses. You’re already open, already dripping, already fucked dumb—but none of it’s going to prepare you for this.

“Look at her,” he mutters under his breath, dragging the head of his cock through your folds, smearing pre-cum across your clit. “She’s fucking begging.”

“She wants it,” you pant, voice shaking. “Please—”

He doesn’t give you time to finish.

He presses in—slow, deep, cruel.

The stretch hits you all at once. Your back arches. Your breath leaves you in a choked gasp, and your pussy clenches hardaround him, sucking him in inch by inch like she never wants to let him go.

“Ohhh, fuck,” he groans. “She’s trained alright.”

You moan. Loud. Desperate. Writhing beneath him as he bottoms out, his hips flush against your ass, his cock buried all the way to the base.

She’s full.

Finally fucking full.

Your cunt grips him tight, fluttering around his cock like she’s been starving for it—and she has. Every inch of him hits something you didn’t know existed. Your body shakes under the pressure. You’re soaked. Stuffed. Used. And you want more.

“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she is.”

“She’s yours,” you gasp. “She’s a hole—your hole—she’s been waiting for this—”

He pulls out halfway, then slams back in.

You scream.

“You’re goddamn right she’s mine,” he snarls. “You trained her just to take my cock.”

You nod frantically, crying now, pleasure too thick in your throat to hold back.

He starts to fuck you in earnest—hard, relentless, loud. Skin slapping skin. His cock slick from your wetness, dragging through every twitch and squeeze, pressing deep, deeper, forcing your body to stay open for him. You feel it in your stomach. Your spine. Your fucking brain.

Every thrust knocks your thoughts loose. And you want to thank him. You want to feel him. You want to taste him.

So you lift your head—try to kiss him.

You lean up, lips parting, mouth open and begging.

He pulls back.

His hand grabs your throat, presses you flat into the mattress. You gasp, eyes wide, blinking up at him in confusion. He smiles. Cruel. Mocking.

“No,” he says coldly. “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”

Your breath shatters.

“Kisses are for good girls,” he spits. “You’re just a trained little hole.”

Your pussy clenches around him so violently he groans.

“That’s all you are now, isn’t it?” he sneers. “A stupid little cunt that opens on command. You get used, not kissed.”

Tears spill over your cheeks.

And you cum. Just like that.

From the words. From the shame. From the humiliation.

Your pussy spasms around his cock, soaking both of you as you scream into his hand still wrapped around your throat. Your hips jerk. Your vision goes white. But he doesn’t stop.

He fucks you through it, hips pounding, cock punching into your oversensitive cunt like he’s trying to reprogram you from the inside out.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Let her milk me. Let her show me how much she needed this.”

You’re sobbing. Gasping. Too wrecked to speak.

“Fucking knew it,” he groans. “You were never gonna be satisfied until you got split open.”

He leans down, mouth right by your ear.

“But don’t ever reach for a kiss again. Sluts like you don’t get kissed.”

You’re already limp when he flips you.

Your body gives out so easily—shoulders pressed into the mattress, arms numb, legs trembling, hips cocked up on instinct the second he yanks you onto your stomach. His hands drag you by the waist like a ragdoll. Like something boneless, brainless, ruined. Your face is buried in the pillow. Your cheek sticks to the fabric. You’re crying, still, but there’s no shame left. Just the raw ache of your cunt pulsing around nothing—because he pulled out.

You whine, pathetic and wordless, hips rolling back into the air, leaking down your thighs.

“Still hungry?” he mutters behind you.

You nod into the pillow.

“Say it.”

“She’s empty,” you whimper. “She’s twitching—she wants you back in—she’s not done—she’s never done—”

You gasp when the head of his cock slides back in. Just the tip.

He doesn’t give you the rest.

You wiggle. Cry. Press your ass back against him and moan when your folds stretch again, split open all over his length.

“You trained her to take it,” he says. “Now you’re gonna train her to keep it.”

He presses forward.

His cock buries to the hilt in one brutal thrust, and your whole body spasms. Your hands claw at the sheets. Your cunt clenches so violently it forces a sob out of your chest, high-pitched and broken. You’re still sensitive. Still throbbing from the last orgasm. But he doesn’t care.

He starts fucking you again like he owns you.

The slap of skin echoes in the room, wet and obscene, his cock pounding into your raw pussy like she’s just a hole to conquer. You don’t even try to move anymore. Your body takes it. Open, obedient, used.

“You like that?” he pants. “You like being my little fucktoy?”

“Yeah, you do. You’re trained now. A good little cocksleeve who comes when she’s told. Cries when she’s full. Cums from being humiliated.”

“I do,” you choke out. “I’m yours—I’m your toy—just your fucktoy—use me—use her—”

“That’s it,” he growls. “That’s what she wanted, isn’t it? Not kindness. Not kisses. Just cock. Just someone to shove it in and remind her she’s nothing but a messy, wet little pussy.”

He thrusts harder. You scream into the sheets.

“She’s so loud,” he snarls. “So fucking wet. She’s gushing. Every time I pull out she cries.”

You don’t even recognize your own voice when you cum again.

It’s raw. Ugly. Loud.

You scream—clawing at the sheets, nails ripping fabric, your body wracked with spasms as you squirt all over his cock, wet exploding out of you in waves, soaking the bed, your stomach, your thighs. You can’t stop it. You don’t want to.

He fucks you through it—harder.

“Let her break,” he growls. “Let her fucking split.”

And when your body finally collapses, hips falling, spine trembling, Heeseung doesn’t even slow down.

He grabs your hips, hauls you up, and drives in deep one more time—and stays there. His cock pulses inside you. Thick. Hot. Flooding you.

You feel it. You feel his cum shoot deep, thick ropes filling your already ruined pussy until your belly aches with it.

He stays inside. Keeps you cockwarmed, plugged full, hands rubbing down your spine like this is the aftercare.

Not words. Not love. Just being kept full. Like you should be.

You barely breathe. Your eyes are glassy. Your mouth’s open. You feel him lean over you. Feel the slow drag of his lips against your ear.

“You’re not starved anymore,” he whispers. “She’s fed now. Finally.”

You nod. Barely. Weak. Fucked out. His cock twitches.

“She’s still twitching,” he murmurs. “She wants to sleep like this.”

You wake up to the burn in your thighs.

The stretch. The ache. That slick-dried, too-sensitive sting between your legs from being filled for hours without a break. Your skin’s flushed. Clammy. You shift slightly under the covers, still half-asleep, and you feel it—him.

Still there. Still inside you.

You blink. Breathe. Try to make sense of your body—but the pressure between your legs is still warm. Your cunt clenches instinctively, and his cock twitches in response.

A slow, deep ache spreads in your gut.

His arm is draped over your waist. His chest is pressed against your back. He’s asleep—soft breaths on your shoulder, jaw resting against the side of your head. And his cock is still buried to the base in your pussy. Warm. Heavy. Plugging you full like it belongs there.

But something else creeps in too.

You lie there for a moment. Silent. Still. Pussy fluttering, heartbeat slowing, and that awful little ache growing in your chest. The one that started the second he pulled away last night. The one that settled into your ribs when you reached for him and he said “You don’t deserve to be kissed.”

You swallow. You whisper it before you even think about it.

“Are you really not gonna kiss me?”

It’s soft. Not needy. Just… there.

His breath shifts against your skin. His arm tightens slightly around your waist.

You almost regret asking.

Until he exhales through his nose and mutters, voice rough and low and real, “I’m still fucking inside you, you brat. You think I’m gonna spend the whole night cockwarming my favorite pussy and not kiss her in the morning?”

You twist under him, face flushed, and turn your head over your shoulder—and his mouth is already there.

No hesitation. He kisses you hard.

Mouth slanting over yours, tongue sliding in with no patience, lips full and hot and filthy with morning breath and spit. You moan into it, deep and broken, cunt clenching around his cock again like she’s reacting to the kiss like it’s touch.

His hand grips your jaw, thumb dragging over your cheek as he devours your mouth. He licks into you like he means it—like you’ve earned it—like he’s been wanting to do it since before he ever called you a slut.

You’re whimpering into his mouth when it happens.

Your lips slide against his, sticky with spit, your breath still uneven from how long you spent crying into the pillow, your cunt still fluttering weakly around his cock. He hasn’t pulled out. He’s still inside you. Still twitching, half-hard again already, thick and warm, stretching your still-leaking pussy while your body curls back into him, needy and clingy and soft in a way you didn’t get to be last night.

His hand cups your jaw now. Gentle. Finally. His thumb drags along your lower lip, slow and possessive, like he’s re-learning your mouth after denying it. His tongue pushes into you with unhurried filth, and your hips shift just barely, like your cunt’s trying to pull more of him in. Like she doesn’t even know how to be empty anymore.

And then you hear it.

“Heeseung?”

It’s distant. Not loud. Sleepy. But your blood freezes.

“Hey—have you seen Y/N?”

Evie. She’s awake. The breath dies in your throat.

Your eyes fly open. Heeseung’s hand freezes on your jaw. Your whole body locks. His cock is still deep inside you, softening now, but still heavy. Still leaking. You can feel him dripping down your inner thighs as your brain flips inside out with panic.

“Shit,” you mouth, barely audible.

Heeseung exhales through his nose, calm, but his arm is already tightening around your waist like he’s trying to figure out his next move in real time.

“Y/N?” she calls again. “Where’d you go?”

You scramble out of the bed like you’ve been shot. Legs wobbly. Pussy sore. You trip over the blanket as you reach for your discarded clothes, yanking your hoodie on over your head, trying not to scream as your shorts catch on your ankle. You’re still soaked, your panties still twisted around your thigh from where he shoved them earlier, and you can feel his cum still inside you, wet and hot and fucking obvious.

Heeseung’s already sitting up, dragging his hoodie on, running a hand through his hair to make it look like he just woke up.

You’re panicking. “Do I go back to her room? What do I do—what if she’s in the hallway—?”

Heeseung stands up, grabs your shoulders, kisses your forehead once—quick, mocking, cocky—like this is funny to him.

“Bathroom. Now.”

You sprint for it. Just as he opens his door.

His voice is casual. Sleep-rough.

“Yo.”

“You seen Y/N? I woke up and she wasn’t in bed. Her stuff’s still there though.”

Heeseung stretches in the doorway, voice smooth as fucking silk.

“Nah, haven’t seen her. She probably went to the bathroom.”

“She didn’t text me.”

“She probably didn’t want to wake you.”

You’re crouched in the bathroom, hands over your mouth, hoodie soaked at the hem, thighs still trembling. You glance down and see a smear of his cum on your leg, glistening in the morning light like a neon sign of guilt.

“Whatever. Tell her I’m making pancakes.”

“Will do.”

Door shuts. Heeseung turns, leans into the bathroom, finds you crouched by the sink.

“You owe me.”

You punch his chest.

He grabs your wrist. Kisses it.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, voice low. “You’ll pay me back tonight."

It’s early.

Evie’s downstairs making coffee. You can hear the clinking of mugs, the stupid hum of whatever playlist she plays when she’s in a good mood.

You’re in Heeseung’s lap. Hoodie on. No underwear. His back’s against the headboard, his cock deep inside you, and you’re grinding slowly—hips circling, cunt fluttering, hands pressed to his chest to keep yourself upright.

You’re not allowed to bounce. Not allowed to moan.

Just slow, controlled rolls—like you’re milking him without giving yourself away.

“You sound like you want her to know,” he whispers against your throat.

You shake your head. Breathe through your nose. Keep moving.

“Then be quiet, baby. Or I’ll hold your mouth and your hips still, and you won’t cum at all.”

You almost cry. He grabs your ass. Tilts your hips just right.

“If she walks in, you better keep her name off your lips while I fill you up.”

You do. Barely.

You cum with your hand clamped over your mouth, twitching around his cock like you were made for it—and Heeseung cums seconds later, low and quiet, mouth on your collarbone.

Downstairs?

Evie sings along to the chorus.

It’s disgusting.

There’s no other word for it.

You’re on all fours, face buried in Heeseung’s mattress, drooling, moaning, thighs trembling with every wet squelch of his fingers plunging into you from behind. His mouth is glued to your cunt, spit running down his chin, tongue working your clit in slow, sloppy laps while one hand spreads you open—and the other, lower, slick with your cum, is rubbing tight circles around your asshole.

You’re whining his name. Filthy. Wordless. Brain-melted.

“Fuck, she’s drooling for it,” he mutters into your pussy. “She wants both. She’s ready. One in her ass, two in her cunt—you wanna be stretched like a proper little hole, huh?”

Your face is soaked. Your body’s trembling. Your pussy flutters around his fingers, slick squelching with every slow drag in and out. Your rim clenches, raw and wet from the friction. You try to answer, but all that comes out is a pathetic sob.

“Say it,” he growls. “Say what she wants.”

“I want it,” you gasp, voice cracking. “I want you to open my ass—wanna be full, wanna cum like a fucktoy—please—please—”

And then—

“Y/N?”

You hear your name like it’s being spoken through a tunnel.

You freeze.

Every muscle in your body locks.

Heeseung doesn’t move.

You can feel his tongue hovering right at your clit. His finger is still circling your asshole.

And then you both look up.

In the doorway. Mouth open. Eyes wide. Chest heaving.

Evie.

Her face doesn’t go red. It goes white. Like her blood just dropped to her feet.

She stares at your body—at your back arched, knees wide, your ass open, Heeseung’s hand buried between your cheeks, your best friend’s brother with his mouth on you and your spit in his beard.

And then she gags. Audibly. Violently.

Her whole body jolts forward like she’s about to puke right there in the hallway.

“Oh my—fucking—god—” she chokes. “What the—what the FUCK—”

She turns. Presses her palm to the wall. Leans into it. Her other hand clamps over her mouth and you see her shoulders jerk. Once. Twice. A horrible, broken sound crawls out of her throat.

“No—no—no—no, no, no—”

She’s panicking.

Can’t breathe. Her body is shaking so hard you think she might collapse.

“Evie—” you start, voice already wet. “Evie, please—please just listen—”

“DON’T.”

The scream hits like a slap.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t—don’t even say my fucking name—”

You’re sobbing now. Reaching for the blanket. Falling off the bed. Barely able to pull your hoodie down over your sticky, twitching body.

Heeseung moves. Not fast enough. Still shirtless. Still hard. His fingers still glistening.

“Heejoo—”

“DON’T. CALL ME THAT.” Her voice is shrill, raw, wrecked. “You’re my fucking brother.”

She looks at you. Like she doesn’t even know you.

And then her expression cracks completely.

Her face contorts—pain, betrayal, disgust, hatred—all in one devastating collapse.

“You were inside her,” she whispers, and her voice breaks. “You had your—your—you were licking her while you were fingering her ass—”

“You’re both fucking insane.”

You crawl toward her. Not thinking. Just begging. Your knees burn. Your hands shake.

“Evie—please—please just let me explain—”

She flinches.

Flinches.

Like your voice touched her skin. Then she goes still. Her breathing slows. Her hands drop to her sides.

She looks empty.

“Don’t come near me.”

Her voice is flat now. Robotic.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even fucking breathe in my direction.”

You can’t speak. Can’t move. She steps back.

Looks at Heeseung. Then at you.

“You’re both dead to me.”

You don’t remember the walk home.

You don’t remember grabbing your phone, or leaving the house, or what the weather was like. You don’t remember how long you cried, or how many people stared, or how fucking long it took for the heat between your legs to fade into something cold and ugly. You just remember sitting on your bedroom floor—hoodie still wet between your thighs, your underwear balled up in your pocket—and trying to breathe without choking on it.

Because it doesn’t stop. The image. Her face.

Evie, hand over her mouth. Evie, gagging. Evie, stepping back like you were something dirty.

She meant it. Every word.

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t fucking breathe in my direction.”

She meant it.

You try to text her that night. You don’t even know what to say. There are three different messages in your drafts: one with just her name. One that says “I’m sorry.” One that says nothing at all.

They don’t send. You’ve been blocked.

He doesn’t text either. You don’t even know if he can.

The silence is so big it feels like a second death. You lie in bed every night with your phone face-up on your pillow, waiting for it to light up with anything. A call. A voice note. Just a name.

It never comes.

But you still feel him. In your body. In your bones.

Every time you try to sleep, your body curls like it’s expecting to be filled.

Some nights you wake up sweating—panting, pussy twitching—because you dreamed of his voice again.

You still miss him. Even after all of it. Even after how it ended.

Even after Evie’s face broke in half at the sight of you—wet, spread open, her brother’s finger sliding into your ass while you begged for more.

You still miss him. And that’s the part that makes you sick.

It’s been nearly two weeks since you watched Evie recoil in that doorway, hand clamped over her mouth like she was actually going to vomit.

You can’t erase the memory of her face—how disgust bled into betrayal, how her gaze slid right past you like you didn’t exist, then landed on Heeseung as if he were some twisted stranger in her own home. You tried to bury the image, tried to make it small and unimportant, but it lives in your chest now, swelling every time you breathe.

You haven’t talked to either of them since. Not one word to her, not a single text to him.

It’s as if the world paused on that moment: her voice ripping through the room, your body half-naked, his spit drying on your thighs, your stomach churning with guilt.

Now the doorbell rings, and somehow you already know who’s on the other side.

You open it slowly, hesitation weighing on every movement of your hand.

Heeseung stands there in a wrinkled hoodie, dark circles stamped beneath his eyes. He looks thinner—like the shape of him has caved in from the inside out. His hair is unstyled, his shoulders hunched, and the way he stares at you feels desperate.

Neither of you speak for a few seconds, the silence pressing into your lungs.

Then you break it, because you can’t handle him looking at you like that. “Why are you here?” Your voice comes out flat, echoing the numbness you’ve been living in.

Heeseung swallows, gaze skittering between your face and the ground.

“I had to see you.”

The words feel like they’re meant to fix something, but all they do is twist the knife. You give a hollow laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

“You already saw enough.”

He exhales shakily, bringing a hand up to scrub at the back of his neck.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I know that’s not—there’s nothing I can—” He trails off, struggling, guilt carved into every line of his face. When he finally speaks again, his voice strains.

“You think we haven’t replayed it a hundred fucking times?” he asks. “The door. The blanket. You moaning. Me—God—we were still fucking with each other right there, even when she—”

“Stop.” Your voice cracks. “Don’t say it.”

“We saw her face,” his voice keeps going, low and fast and pained. “We saw it, and we still didn’t stop, like fucking animals. I see it every time I close my eyes. I hear her say my name like I was never hers, like you were never her friend.”

You speak,

“I can’t look at you without hearing her gag.”

The confession slashes the air, and his lips part like you’ve slapped him.

“I can’t hear your name without remembering what it felt like to be in her house, in her family, doing… that, while she thought I was asleep down the hall.”

For a moment, neither of you breathe. Then he forces himself to speak, voice cracking.

“I know. I fucking know, and I hate that we didn’t let go even when we heard her. I hate that she looked at us like we were monsters. I hate that part of me still wanted to stay inside you, and part of you still wanted me there, when we should’ve both stopped.”

You close your eyes, replaying Evie’s strangled gasp in your head, recalling the numb disbelief that followed when she told you not to speak, not to look, not to fucking breathe in her direction.

“I can’t talk to you,” you whisper, voice trembling despite your best efforts. “I can’t even hear your name without feeling sick.”

He swallows and nods, like he’s been waiting for those exact words. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he sounds like he’s about to shatter. “I won’t—if you never want to see me again, I understand.” He drags in a breath that rattles in his chest. “I just needed to know you were… alive.”

For a moment, you want to ask him if he’s okay too, if he’s been eating or sleeping, if he wakes up sweating like you do. But you lock it down, because you can’t afford to care right now.

“Well,” you say, and your voice is colder than you intend, “now you’ve seen me. Congratulations.”

A faint tremor passes through him, and he nods once. There’s nothing else. No lecture, no pleading. He just steps back, shoulders slumped, and turns away.

It happens in the grocery store, of all places. You’re pushing a half-empty cart down the cereal aisle, trying not to think about how much quieter life has been since you lost your best friend and the boy you broke her heart with. You’re scanning the shelves for something to distract you when you catch sight of a familiar figure at the other end of the row.

Your heart lurches, your fingers tightening on the cart handle as your stomach flips.

Because there, frowning at the boxes of cereal, is Evie—or Heejoo, or however she wants to be called now. You don’t have time to decide whether you should turn and run or force a hollow smile. She glances up, and your eyes meet. Neither of you moves.

The aisle feels too narrow. Her cart sits between you, an invisible barrier.

She looks different—her hair is shorter or maybe just pulled back in a careless ponytail, dark smudges under her eyes, shoulders tense. She seems hollowed out in the same way you feel.

Some part of you wants to say hey or I miss you or please talk to me, but the words dissolve in your throat. She’s the one who steps forward first, letting her cart roll behind her. Her heels click on the tile, echoing your every heartbeat.

“Having fun?” she asks, and it doesn’t sound like a question so much as a thinly-veiled jab.

You grip the handle of your cart, mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

“Evie—”

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, eyes flicking away like the name itself stings. “You don’t get to pretend we’re okay. You don’t get to act like we’re still friends.”

Her arms fold across her chest, nostrils flaring with each breath, and you feel your own pulse jump in your neck. “I—I’m sorry,” you manage, voice trembling. It’s not enough, you know that.

She scoffs, a breathy, humorless sound. “That’s it? You’re sorry? You think that magically fixes everything?” She gestures sharply, and you notice how tightly she’s clenching her fists. “You screwed around with my brother like it was nothing, and I walked in on—” Her voice breaks, face twisting as she fights off the memory. “I was just the idiot friend who never saw it coming, right?”

Shame flares in your cheeks. You hold your ground, though it hurts to meet her eyes. “I know I betrayed you,” you say. “We—God, I don’t even have the words for how messed up it was. We both knew better. We both let it happen.”

Her hand lifts to cut you off, shaking with the effort. “You think it’s just that you hurt me?” Her voice wobbles between anger and heartbreak. “You hurt him too, you realize that? He was my brother, you were my best friend, and you both blew yourselves up in front of me. Like you had no idea what it would cost.”

Your stomach knots in a way you haven’t felt before. She’s right. It wasn’t just her—it wasn’t just you. It was all three of you, tangling and twisting until it snapped. “I know,” you say more quietly. “And we’re all paying for it. He’s… he’s not okay. I’m not okay. And you’re definitely not okay. There’s no part of this that isn’t broken.”

She lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Do you think that helps? Hearing you say it’s broken doesn’t change the fact that I can’t even look at either of you without wanting to scream.”

You bow your head, voice almost inaudible. “I wish I could take it back.”

She swallows, and for a fraction of a second, the hostility in her eyes flickers with pain. “Well, you can’t.” Her grip tightens on the cart handle until her knuckles whiten, and she exhales shakily.

“I want my brother back, you know. I want my friend back. But I don’t get either of those things, because you two decided to… to destroy what we had.”

Your throat closes up, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

She stares for another few seconds, jaw clenched as she holds herself together. Then she moves around you, snatching her cart by the handle, the wheels squeaking in protest.

“Enjoy the produce,” she mutters under her breath, voice dripping with bitterness as she passes.

It doesn’t happen overnight.

There’s no single conversation that wipes the slate clean, no perfect gesture that makes Evie’s betrayal vanish, no magic wand that repairs the gaping wound in your chest.

But over time—slow, grudging, step by hesitant step—you all begin to realize that staying in this darkness is killing you. Staying strangers, orbiting the same guilt without looking one another in the eye, is worse than facing the truth. And that truth is messy, fragile, and riddled with scars.

It begins with Evie texting you, late at night, a week after the grocery store encounter.

Just three words: We need to talk.

You stare at the screen for a solid minute, heart pounding like it’s trying to break out of your chest.

Your hands shake as you reply, Yeah, okay.

That’s all. No apology, no second-guessing, just acceptance. You wait for her to say when or where, but she doesn’t text back until the next afternoon, telling you to meet her at the park near her house.

And then she clarifies: Just you.

You show up after sunset, nerves jangling in every limb, expecting hostility, or silence, or both.

Instead, you find Evie sitting on a faded wooden bench under a flickering streetlight. She looks smaller than you remember, knees drawn up under her chin, arms hugging herself for warmth. As you approach, you open your mouth to say something—anything—but she holds up a hand, shaking her head.

“Don’t,” she says, voice tight. “Not yet.”

You stand there, awkward and guilty, waiting for her permission to speak.

She lowers her hand and sighs, staring at a patch of dead grass near her feet. “I asked you here because… this is killing me,” she mutters. “Being this angry all the time. Hating you. Hating him. I can’t keep up with it. It’s turning me into someone I don’t recognize.”

Her words break something inside your chest, and your throat goes thick. You sit down on the far edge of the bench, leaving a wide space between you, unsure if you’re allowed to be any closer. “I… I know,” you manage, voice unsteady. “I feel it too. It’s like I’m rotting on the inside.”

She nods once, gaze flicking to you before sliding away again. “I’m not saying I forgive you,” she warns, and you nod, heart pounding. “I’m just saying I don’t want this to be my life anymore. This—rage. It’s not me.”

She exhales, shoulders curling inward. “And I loved you. You were my best friend. And he… he’s my brother, and I loved him too. So how did we all end up here?”

Silence lingers. You fight back tears that threaten to spill.

“We messed up,” you whisper, voice cracking. “We both did. Me and him. We used your house, your trust, your everything for our own messed-up… needs, and it was stupid and selfish and we ended up shattering everything.” You swallow a lump in your throat. “I know none of that fixes it. But I swear to you, we never wanted to hurt you.”

Evie laughs bitterly, a hollow sound. “Well, you did. And I can’t pretend you didn’t.”

Her gaze shifts to the distance, to the halo of light under the streetlamp. “But I don’t know if I can keep hating you. Or him.”

She hesitates, words coming out slow. “I saw him last week. He looked—God, I hardly recognized him. Like a ghost of himself.”

You nod, biting back the urge to defend him or to ask a dozen questions. “He’s… not doing great,” you say simply, remembering his hollow cheeks, the way his voice cracked when he said he couldn’t sleep.

She wraps her arms tighter around herself, rocking slightly. “Neither are we,” she points out. “None of us are okay. And I guess that’s what I’m realizing. That we’re all stuck in the same crater, staring at the same wreckage. Maybe we shouldn’t be trying to fix it on our own.”

Your eyes burn with unshed tears. “What do you want to do?” you ask, feeling the weight of her words press into your chest.

She’s quiet for a long moment. Then she looks directly at you, tears shimmering at the edges of her eyes. “I want us to talk,” she says. “All three of us. In one place. I want us to put it all on the table, no hiding, no running out. Because if there’s any chance of moving forward—together or apart—we have to face it."

“I’ll text him,” she says, voice ragged. “Don’t expect miracles. But I can’t do this alone.”

A teardrop escapes your lashes and slips down your cheek. “Neither can I,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

She doesn’t respond, just stands up and motions for you to follow.

Evie’s living room is dimly lit, and the air feels thicker than it should—as if everything you’ve said to each other in the last hour is still hovering in the space between. Outside, it’s already dark, the muffled hum of passing cars bleeding in through the windows. You’re all drained—physically, emotionally—yet no one moves to leave. Not yet. It’s not finished.

Evie is perched on the armchair, knees drawn close to her chest. You’re on one end of the couch, Heeseung on the other, and there’s still a gulf of guilt and confusion separating you. But you can feel the conversation building toward something bigger than apologies or confessions of regret.

Evie tugs at the sleeves of her sweater. She glances between you and her brother, mouth pinched tight, but her voice is gentler than before.

“I’m not pretending this is easy,” she begins, clearing her throat. “We’ve all hurt each other. I just want to know what you… what you both actually feel.” Her gaze settles on you, question clear in her eyes. “Do you two even care about each other beyond… beyond whatever it was you were doing?”

You swallow, your mouth dry. This is the moment you’ve been pushing down for weeks, refusing to think about. The reason you woke up gasping sometimes, alone in your bed, missing a warmth you never should have craved in the first place. You take a shaky breath, feeling your pulse hammer in your temples.

“I—” you begin, then stop. Your voice wavers, but you force yourself to speak. “I’m in love with him.”

It comes out bare, unpolished, stripped of excuses. You feel the words echo in your chest, leaving you vulnerable. Across the room, Evie’s eyes widen for half a second, and you can see her guard tighten, just a bit.

Heeseung exhales sharply, his head snapping up. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you focus on the floor, heart pounding.

“I know,” you continue, voice trembling, “that he might not feel the same way. I know we started this all wrong, that I messed up your trust, that I hurt you”—you glance at Evie—“and maybe I don’t deserve a happy ending. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t love him just because I’m ashamed of how we got here.”

Evie inhales like she’s bracing for another blow, her arms tightening around her knees.

“You’re saying you love him, even if he doesn’t love you back?” she asks, carefully, like she’s afraid of the answer.

You let out a breath that feels like it’s been caged in your ribs for months.

“Yes. It’s not… it’s not his responsibility. If it’s one-sided, that’s on me.” You glance fleetingly at Heeseung, face flushing. “I don’t expect anything from him, or from you. I just—” Your voice cracks. “I needed to say it out loud.”

Silence envelops the room, charged with tension. Heeseung is staring at you, eyes wide and glossy, like you’ve knocked the air from his lungs. Evie shifts, chewing on the inside of her lip.

Heeseung finally speaks, voice rough.

“You… love me?”

You manage a small, trembling nod. “I do,” you say, meeting his gaze at last. “And if you don’t love me back, that’s okay. I know how messed up this is. I’m ready to… to accept that.”

He looks startled, as if no part of him expected you to be okay with that possibility. His hands flex on his knees, knuckles blanching. Then he breathes out, shoulders sagging.

“God,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievably stupid.”

You flinch, heart jolting—though there’s no real malice in his tone, only a shaky awe and raw disbelief that seems to be tying him in knots. He forces himself to meet Evie’s eyes for a flicker of a second, as if silently asking for permission to go on.

“Don’t call her that,” Evie snaps, voice quivering at the edges. She fixes him with a sharp glare, arms folded tight across her chest. “I don’t care how you meant it—she’s not stupid, and you don’t get to insult her in front of me.”

“Shut the fuck up Evie, one second,” He turns to you, “Because you think I’m not in love with you? That I’d leave you hanging with all this guilt?”

Your heart stutters, the floor tilting under you. “Heeseung…”

“I’m in love with you too,” he says, and the words hang in the air with tangible weight. “I can’t believe you’d be ready to walk away, believing it was one-sided. That you’d… accept it. God, do you have any idea how much it hurts to see you in so much pain, thinking I don’t feel the same?”

A soft sound escapes your throat—some blend of relief and shock—and tears gather at the edges of your vision. Across the room, Evie exhales shakily, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You can see the swirl of emotions crossing her features: anger, hurt, jealousy, and underneath it all, a lingering care for you both.

Heeseung scrubs a hand over his face, then looks to Evie, voice trembling.

“I love her. I know I messed up. We messed up. We never should’ve lied. But I can’t take back how I feel.”

Evie drags in a deep breath. She pushes herself up from the armchair, pacing a short line across the living room. Her head is down, hands in her hair. When she finally looks at you both, there’s pain in her eyes, but not the same raw fury as before.

“Jesus,” she mutters. “You two…” She chews the inside of her cheek. “I hate what you did. I hate how you did it. But if you love each other—really love each other—I can’t tell you not to.”

Her shoulders slump. “I want to be angry forever, but… seeing you like this, I—” She presses her lips together, tears brimming, then sets her jaw. “I guess I just want us to find a way to exist without destroying each other.”

A thick silence fills the space. Your chest feels ready to burst from conflicting emotions—gratitude, guilt, longing, terror. You look at Evie and see the ghost of the best friend you once knew, who might be willing to stand beside you again one day, even if it won’t ever be the same.

You open your mouth.

“I know it won’t be easy,” you say softly. “I don’t expect you to forgive everything in one night. But maybe… maybe we can start moving forward?”

Evie dashes a tear off her cheek and gives a tiny nod.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “Maybe.”

Heeseung watches her, watches you, then rises from the couch. He hesitates, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you. You stand up, heart pounding, and drift closer. Neither of you quite meets in the middle, leaving a careful gap where all your remorse hangs. But it’s less than before.

Evie clears her throat, hugging herself.

“I can’t stay down here with you two being… whatever you are. I need time, okay?”

You nod quickly.

“Of course.”

Heeseung nods as well, voice soft.

“Anything you need.”

She steps back, wiping her eyes, and there’s a hint of a weary smile ghosting across her face, like she’s relieved but not sure how to show it.

“You two can talk, or… or go, or do whatever. I just…” Her breath catches. “I’m gonna go upstairs. That’s all I can handle right now.”

You don’t stop her.

Then you turn to him, tears slipping down your cheeks, a tremulous hope fluttering in your chest. He lifts a hand—tentative, like he’s scared to break you—and cups your cheek, thumb brushing your damp skin.

He exhales shakily.

“I love you,” he murmurs, the words raw with emotion. “I’m sorry for everything.”

You nod, voice catching in your throat as you rest your hand over his.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “But I love you, and maybe… that’s something we can start with.”

His eyes close in something like relief, and he presses a soft, uncertain kiss to your temple. It isn’t a triumphant moment, not the kind of romantic victory you might’ve once imagined. It’s tender, laced with guilt and fear. But it’s also real—genuine and fragile, the only piece of warmth you’ve had in a long time.

Things shift slowly, almost imperceptibly at first. You and Heeseung start keeping your distance whenever Evie’s around—no subtle hand-holding, no lingering touches, certainly no sneaking off to lock yourselves behind the nearest door.

It’s not that you’re ashamed of each other; it’s that you can’t stand the thought of rubbing your relationship in her face. You both know you’re lucky she’s even letting you in the same room without storming out.

So you dial it back. You let your bodies stop running the show.

It’s harder than you expect—he still sets your nerves on fire by simply looking at you—but you remind yourself that Evie’s feelings matter, that you owe her more than just half-hearted consideration. You give her space, which means giving yourselves space too.

No sex. No heavy make-out sessions. No pressed-up-against-a-wall confessions. Just… time and gentle contact.

Heeseung seems as restless as you.

Sometimes, when it’s late and you’re on a phone call—whispering so Evie won’t hear through the walls—he sounds downright desperate.

You can hear his breath catch when you say you miss him, can practically feel the tension radiating through the receiver.

Yet both of you agree: this is how it has to be for now. If you want Evie to believe that what you have is more than just an addiction to each other’s bodies, you need to show her you can exist outside a bed.

So you go on dates. Real dates. Movie theaters, yes, but also bookstore trips, late-night drives to nowhere, strolling through a local fair when it rolls into town.

You hold hands only if you’re well away from Evie’s neighborhood—fearful that any small sign of affection might break the thin thread of tolerance she’s extended.

The first time you walk along the riverside in the evening, sipping cheap coffee from a convenience store, it hits you that you’ve never really done this part before: the tentative, day-to-day romance of building a real relationship. It’s both comforting and nerve-wracking.

You can feel the charge sparking under your skin every time he smiles at you, like you’re seconds away from losing your careful resolve.

But you don’t. Neither of you wants to risk undoing the fragile progress with Evie.

And that progress is slow, but present.

She doesn’t cringe as much when you and Heeseung enter a room together.

She no longer flinches if you happen to stand on the same side of the kitchen.

Maybe sometimes she rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t snap. You see the tension in her shoulders when you’re all in the same space, though—like she’s bracing for some new betrayal.

You can’t blame her. You still offer to leave the moment you sense her discomfort rising. Surprisingly, she’s started telling you to stay.

But the real sign that things might be healing comes one weekend night when Evie texts you, out of the blue:

Girls’ night?

She doesn’t dress it up with a cute emoji or an explanation; it’s bare bones, almost clinical. And you stare at your phone with your heart hammering, wondering if this is a test, or maybe a begrudging olive branch.

You answer with a shaky yes, and spend the next few hours trying not to read too much into it. You tell Heeseung you’ll be hanging out with Evie, and he just smiles—wide and genuine, telling you to have fun, to text him if you need anything.

Evie’s room hasn’t changed much since the night you snuck out of it to see Heeseung. The layout is the same, the posters the same, the bedspread the same. It all feels loaded with history.

She sits cross-legged on her bed, handing you a soda—no alcohol tonight, no false bravado. You sense she wants you both stone-cold sober for whatever might be said.

There’s an awkward pause, and then she gestures for you to sit, too.

For a while, conversation comes in bursts: updates about random classmates, stories from her day at work, small talk about the show you both used to binge-watch together. It’s stiff, but not hostile.

She picks at her blanket, and you notice how she won’t hold your gaze for too long. Yet each minute that passes without snapping or bitterness feels like a victory.

Eventually, she slides a bag of nail polish across the bed toward you. “You, um… you still like doing this, right? It’s been a while,” she mumbles, glancing at your nails.

It’s such a small gesture, but it makes your throat tighten. You nod, and she exhales something that might be relief.

For a solid hour, the two of you paint and chatter, as if practicing how to be friends again. Her shoulders are less rigid. You’re careful not to misstep. Neither of you mentions Heeseung.

At least not directly. But you feel his presence in the air, the unspoken pivot point around which your every interaction revolves. It’s only when Evie finally fixes you with a long, assessing look, half-concern and half-uncertainty, that the moment arrives.

“Are you two, like… okay?” she asks. Her voice is laced with discomfort, but there’s no hatred in it. “You said no more sneaking around. But are you—happy?”

You swallow hard, carefully blowing on your newly painted nails. “We’re… doing our best,” you say. “Trying to be good for each other. Not just physically.”

She nods, lips twisting like she’s turning over your words in her mind. “I guess… that’s what I wanted to know,” she admits softly. “It still weirds me out sometimes, but I’d rather it matter to you than be some… fling.”

A wave of gratitude surges in your chest, making it hard to speak. You nod. “It matters,” you whisper. “I swear.”

She blinks a few times, then sets her nail polish aside. The tension in her shoulders relaxes just enough that her spine curves against the headboard, more comfortable than you’ve seen her in weeks. “Good,” she murmurs, tone stilted but earnest. “Don’t… don’t make me regret trying to rebuild this, okay?”

Your own shoulders slump in relief. “I won’t,” you promise. Your voice shakes with the weight of it. “And if I ever do, you can—and should—kick my ass.”

That draws a small, genuine laugh from her—a sound you haven’t heard in what feels like ages. She nods, letting the humor fill the space that was once suffocating with tension. “Deal,” she says.

You stay up later than expected—talking about nonsense, painting your nails in mismatched colors, occasionally lapsing into awkward silences.

But each time, one of you breaks it before the air can go stale. By the time midnight rolls around, you’ve settled into a strange new normal: not quite what you were before the betrayal, but not strangers anymore. Something between you is mending, fragile but real.

When you leave, she walks you to the front door. It’s still weird, stepping out into the hallway where so much damage happened.

But Evie’s behind you, not in front, and you can’t help feeling that the dynamic has changed in a way that actually might last. You glance back at her, and though she still looks tired, she doesn’t look hostile or betrayed. Maybe just… cautious. It’s enough.

“Night,” she says, one hand resting on the doorknob.

“Night,” you reply, voice quiet. “Thanks, again.”

She nods and closes the door gently behind you—no slamming, no huffing. Just a simple, private goodbye.

As you slip into the night, you realize you’re smiling, mind already whirring with what you’ll tell Heeseung when you see him next. You catch yourself wondering if you’ll meet up for another date soon. Or if you’ll just call him on the way home, excitedly spilling the details of your slow but tangible progress with Evie.

The new place is barely furnished. A couch that’s still covered in plastic. A mattress on the floor. Takeout containers littering the kitchen counter. The floorboards creak with every step. The windows are wide open, and there are no curtains yet. It’s not home—not really—but it’s his.

And most importantly, it’s finally, blessedly, fucking private.

When he opens the door and lets you in, he doesn’t kiss you right away. He just watches you step inside like you’re something he’s trying to memorize. His hands stay in the pocket of his hoodie. His jaw’s tight. His eyes flicker to the bag in your hand, then to your shoes, then up your legs so slowly it makes you feel exposed even though you’re still fully dressed.

You don’t say anything at first. You set the wine down on the counter. You take in the space—empty and echoing—but your skin’s already buzzing. You hear the door close behind you with a soft click, and something shifts.

He clears his throat.

“I haven’t kissed you yet,” he says, voice low. “Not really.”

You turn to look at him. “No.”

There’s a beat.

“Can I?”

You nod.

And that’s it. That’s all it takes.

His hands are on your face before you can blink, warm and rough and needing. The kiss starts soft, but only for a breath. Then it turns—hungry, desperate, filthy. Your back hits the counter with a thud, his tongue already in your mouth, his body pressing into yours like he’s trying to crawl inside you through your lips.

You moan into him, and he groans, deep in his throat, like the sound broke whatever shred of self-control he was hanging onto.

“You have no idea,” he pants, mouth hot against your jaw, “how long I’ve wanted to ruin you in peace.”

Your shirt’s pulled up before you can answer, his mouth already sucking marks down your neck. His hands are everywhere—gripping your tits through your bra, unbuttoning your jeans, fingers slipping into your waistband like he owns the place. Like he owns you.

You gasp as his hand slides between your legs, cupping you through your underwear, his breath catching when he feels the heat there.

“Already wet?” he mutters, voice ragged. “Fucking knew it.”

He yanks your jeans down to your ankles, then sinks to his knees on the kitchen tile without another word. His hands push your legs apart, pulling one up to rest over his shoulder. And when his mouth presses to the soaked fabric of your panties, you cry out—sharp, helpless, needy.

“You wore these knowing I’d take them off with my teeth, didn’t you?” he growls, dragging the fabric aside with his nose, his tongue already lapping through your folds like he’s been waiting for this for months.

You can barely breathe. One hand flies to the counter for balance, the other fists in his hair. He licks you with obscene, wet sounds, groaning into your pussy like the taste is sending him over the edge. You grind against his face shamelessly, whining when he flattens his tongue and drags it up through your slit, over and over again.

“Fuck, Heeseung—please—”

He pulls back just enough to spit directly on your clit. “What do you need, baby?” he pants, thumb spreading it around with tight, deliberate pressure. “You want me to make you cum with my mouth like a good little whore? Is that it?”

You nod frantically, hips rocking against his hand.

“I missed this pussy,” he mutters, diving back in. “Missed how fucking loud she is.”

And she is. Your pussy’s wet, sloppy, noisy, every flick of his tongue echoing off the bare walls. You cum hard, legs shaking around his shoulders, crying out his name as your vision blurs.

But he’s not done.

He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then grabs you by the waist and turns you around, bending you over the counter.

“No more pretending,” he growls in your ear. “No more quiet. You’re gonna scream for me this time.”

He pulls your panties down and spreads you open, groaning like a man unhinged.

“God, you’re dripping. You fucking missed this too, didn’t you?”

You try to answer, but he’s already stroking his cock against your folds, rubbing the head through the mess between your legs, smearing it everywhere.

“Say it,” he demands.

“Yes—yes, I missed it—fuck, Heeseung, I missed your cock—”

He sinks into you in one sharp, brutal thrust, and you wail.

No condom. No pause. Just the stretch of him filling you up in one smooth, devastating stroke.

“Oh my God,” he groans. “You’re fucking swallowing me.”

You’re moaning, writhing, drooling onto the counter. He doesn’t start slow. He doesn’t give you time. He fucks you—relentless, pounding, like he’s been waiting to do this since the moment you first touched him.

Your ass slaps against his thighs with every thrust. Your pussy is loud, the kind of wet, messy squelch that would embarrass you if you could think.

He slaps your ass hard, making you jolt forward. “Listen to her,” he growls. “She’s been crying for me.”

You don’t stop him. You beg for more.

He grabs your arms and pulls you back onto him, using your own body to fuck you harder.

“Keep taking it,” he snarls. “Be my good little cumrag, just like you used to be.”

You scream. You scream for him.

You cum again, sobbing into the crook of your arm, your entire body trembling.

He pulls out and flips you around, lifts you up onto the counter again, and kisses you like he’s devouring you from the inside out. Your legs are trembling so hard you can barely hold them up, but he spreads them open and spits straight onto your cunt, rubbing it in with two fingers, moaning when you jolt at the sensitivity.

“Wanna fuck you on the floor next,” he mutters against your lips. “Wanna fuck you on the mattress, on the couch, against every wall. Wanna ruin this apartment with the sound of your pussy screaming for me.”

You grab his face, breath ragged. “Then do it.”

He throws you over his shoulder and carries you to the mattress on the floor, where he fucks you in every position he’s ever imagined. He keeps you cockdrunk and leaking. When your voice gives out, he fucks you in silence. When your legs stop working, he props them up and keeps going. And when he finally cums—inside you, deep, claiming—he doesn’t pull out.

He just collapses on top of you, both of you drenched in sweat and slick and the aftermath of something feral.

You can’t move.

You don’t want to.

You just lie there, shaking, full, used, satisfied in a way that makes you dizzy.

Heeseung kisses your shoulder and whispers against your skin.

“I’m never being patient again.”

TL: @naurwayyyyy @ziiao @somuchdard @ijustwannareadstuff20 @ddolleri @beariegyu @zzhengyu @annybah @seonhoon @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4ss @starniras @wonuziex @sol3chu @simj4k3

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yeonzzzn · 1 year ago

Text

say my name: sunghoon

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 6.9k

synopsis: you never liked sunghoon. matter of fact, you hate him. he annoys you and makes your blood boil. what makes it worse is he’s your neighbor, attends the same college as you, and even worked his way into your friend group. you refuse to say his name, but he has plans to make you scream it.

genre: neighbors!au, enemies to lovers, smut.

warnings: swearing, reader has an attitude problem, mutual masturbation, using readers spit to jerk off, fingering, cum eating, unprotective sex, doggie, hair pulling, lmk if I missed anything!

You gripped the bedsheets, knuckles turning white and mouth going slack as moans escaped your lips. One of his hands left your hips and moved to your head, pushing your long hair from your face before connecting it to the side of your face, pressing you further into the sheets, another moan leaving your mouth.

He chuckled, “Yeah? You like that huh?” his hand at your hip squeezed and shoved you further onto him, using more force into his other hand to press your face harder into the sheets, “Such a dirty fucking girl.”

You exhaled out, “I fucking hate you,” but had the biggest smirk on your lips as he used every force possible to fuck into you.

Sunghoon smirked at the look on your face, “No you don’t,” he cooed, his hand on your face moving to the top of your head, grasping a fistful of your hair and yanking, pulling you up and connecting your back to his chest, “Say my name,” he growled into your ear, letting go of your hair and snaking his hand down to your heat, middle finger circling your clit in perfect rhythm with his thrusts, “Say. My. Name.”

Your head spun as you thought back on how you ended up in this situation with his cock so deep inside you.

You hated him the moment he moved in next door. You hoped whoever your neighbor would be that they would be better than the last one. The last neighbor you shared a wall with was loud, always yelling at something, banging on the walls, watching TV way too loud, and for whatever reason would leave their apartment door open to “get fresh air,” when in reality you thought it was to shove whatever terrible smell they had inside out.

You were so thankful when you saw your new neighbor was your age. He was handsome, looked smart, was quiet, seemed clean and his best friends were hot.

But you learned soon enough that he was a prick and your hate for him started.

Your first interaction with him was asking if he could turn his music down because it was three in the morning and you had work that following morning.

He opened the door wide, wearing nothing but his tight blue boxers that clearly showed his boner. His hair was a mess, and the giggles of two females could be heard from his bedroom. You tried to drown out their giggles and keep your eyes on his, terribly failing and staring down at his chest, abs…his cock.

He smirked, leaning closer to you, “Like what you see? Want to join us?” Anger filled you instantly. Who the fuck did this prick this he was? He barely moved in a few days ago, has TWO other females in his apartment, and is hitting on you when he doesn’t know you?

You snarled, “Just turn the damn music down!”

He, in fact, did not turn the music down but turned it up.

The rest of that week was hell. Music, alcohol, other females, and his friends flew in and out of that apartment, making you sleep less and less every day.

When classes started back up that following week, to your dismay, you walked into your microbiology class to see him sitting in the corner of the classroom. His hands shoved into his black hoodie, eyes locking onto yours. He smirked, leaning forward into his chair, resting his elbows on the table, and giving you a wink.

If you could drop this class and take it another semester you would. But you were so close to being done with your prerequisites for your major that there was no point in dropping it. Plus you wouldn’t let your prick of a neighbor ruin this for you.

Except he made class hell too. Tossing notes your way, giving you winks, and biting his lips. Always having a comeback to your answer when the professor would ask questions.

You discovered through the class that his name was Park Sunghoon, and the moment you knew his name was the moment you vowed to never say it. To not let that tainted name leave your lips.

Sunghoon only did more to piss you off as time went on. Walking around outside the apartment practically naked, running his hands over his body, and winking at you. Always teasing you at college by how you “wanted” him.

What made things worse, he somehow befriended your best friend. Yunjin invited you to a party one night and you gladly accepted it, wanting one night away from the apartment building and away from Sunghoon.

You walked into the party, expecting to be embraced by your best friend, but instead saw the door being opened by Jake, one of Sunghoon’s hot best friends.

“Oh shit! Hey YN!” his Aussie accent blurted out, “You’re friends with Yunjin too?”

Too?

You peered into her house, seeing Sunghoon’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, red solo cups in their hands as they laughed together with not only your friends but also his.

Yunjin’s eyes widen in excitement at seeing Jake lead you into her house, “YNNIE!!!”

She released herself from Sunghoon and embraced you quickly, “I have some people I want you to meet!”

She introduced you to Sunghoon and his friends, the awkward smile on Sunghoon’s face showed that he had zero clue you were best friends with Yunjin.

“No shit!” Jay exclaimed, “You’re best friends with YN?! Sunghoon is her neighbor!”

Yunjin, mostly in her drunken state, was more excited than she should be, “OH EM GEEE!!” she clapped her hands, “We can be one big happy friend group!”

You found out from Yunjin that she and Sunghoon have a few classes together and even already hung out a few times around campus with his friends when you were busy.

You wanted to break up the friendship but felt way too guilty and didn’t want to be that person to break away a friendship.

So you sucked it up.

For months you tried to act normal, but Sunghoon’s flirting and his teasing only got worse. Making you hate him even more. Oh, but it fueled him to continue.

Even after almost a year, you refused to call him by name, referring to him as stupid, idiot, idiot penguin(after finding out he was a figure skater), and simply just a prick.

You twirl your pencil between your fingers, listening to Heeseung and Yunjin talk about the League of Legends match they had last night. Jake cutting into the conversation.

“Yeah yeah nerds, I have something to say.”

Sunghoon glanced up at his best friend from his homework, “What could be more important than their league match?”

“What the idiot penguin said,” you chimed in, eyes going back down to your homework.

“Are we still going with the idiot penguin?” Sunghoon scoffed, “It’s been a year, YN,” he rolled his eyes, “I have a name.”

You shrugged, standing by your statement of never saying his name.

Your friend group soon figured out whatever enemies thing you two had going on but never addressed it, hoping you two would figure it out on your own.

“Anyways,” Jay said, “What is important?”

Jake smiled, “Let’s go to the next city over and party.”

Chaewon’s eyes lit up, “You know, why not?”

Yunjin even seemed interested.

Your little small town had bars and one shitty club. Neither was worth walking into. Going the next city over for a night out didn’t seem like a bad idea until…

“We can get a hotel!” Yunjin said, “That way we don’t have to rush back home and can actually get drunk.”

You were on board until the hotel was brought up, “No. Absolutely not.”

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes at you, knowing perfectly well why you didn’t want to, “Get over it, you’re going. All of us are.”

You protested the whole week against going, yet you found yourself in the very backseat of Chaewon’s car sitting right next to Sunghoon.

You rolled your head back onto the headrest, crossing your arms with a groan, “Can someone PLEASE switch seats with me?”

“NO!” everyone else shouted. Sunghoon just sitting in silence, his arms also crossed, eyes locked onto whatever could be so interesting outside the car.

You’ve only been in the car for an hour and a half, yet it was killing you already.

“You really need to get over whatever hate you have for him,” Yunjin said earlier in the day as she shoved her duffle bag into the trunk, “I don’t understand it, everyone else is fine with each other besides you two.”

You crossed your arms, “He’s just a prick. Has been since I’ve met him.”

Yunjin rolled her eyes, “You aren’t even sure if he even did have a threesome with those girls.”

She wasn’t…wrong. But by the way, his dick was hard in those…tight boxers, there’s no way he didn’t fuck them both.

“Idiot penguin didn’t really do a good job of defending himself if he wasn’t, plus he asked ME to join them.”

Yunjin just sighed, “He hates when you call him that, he actually wants to be friends with you, ya know. We are all friends, you live right next door to each other, just try to get along tonight, okay?”

Yet here you were in the backseat with him wanting nothing more than to jump out of the window and let every car hit you.

The sun started to set, and everyone one by one (except Chaewon and Jay who were driving and the passenger) fell asleep.

A small bump in the road was enough to wake you from your sleep. You yawned and then the pain of the way your body was twisted into the seat kicked in.

With a soft groan, you shifted yourself up, eyes wandering down your legs seeing them draped over Sunghoon’s lap.

His eyes were wide and lips tucked between his eyes as he stared down at your legs. You shifted in your seat, ready to yell at him and pull your legs back but when your foot grazed over his crotch, you were in more shock than he was when realizing you were awake, head snapping to you so fast.

“YN…” he whispers, eyes darting to the front of the car then back to you, “It’s not—“

“Then what is it you prick?!” you whisper back. He had a fucking hard-on?! What the hell was he thinking and doing with your legs?!

Sunghoon quickly placed his hand over his hard cock, trying to conceal it as if it would help make the situation better.

It didn’t.

“And now you’re touching yourself?!” you whispered in a snap, “You’re such a pervert you prick!”

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes down at you, “Will you shut the fuck up and listen for a second, ya?” you thinned your lips in a line, waiting. “You at some point in your sleep shoved your legs into my lap. It woke me up and I was so close to shoving you off me, but you looked peaceful and Jay made me promise to not start shit with you.” Ahhh so they all were in on trying to get you two to play nice, “So I left you alone, but you started shifting around and…”

And he got a fucking boner just from your legs.

“You have a leg fetish or something?” you raise a brow at him.

Only for your legs.

Sunghoon shook his head, “You’re fucking crazy.”

But maybe he was the crazy one. Ever since he’s met you, he’s wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of you. To fuck all that hate you have for him out. To turn that scrunched face full of anger every time you look at him into a relaxed sexual face with you moaning out his name.

He’s never once heard you call him by name. Even when he’s texted you about stuff about hanging out with everyone or for class or homework or literally anything about the apartment you always call him some wack ass name.

Sunghoon has it as his goal to get you to say his name. Whether that’s by him fucking you into the next year, or gaslighting you into saying it somehow. He preferred option one.

He found you so ridiculously sexy. Your attitude always got him going and he couldn’t explain why. Maybe it’s because he wanted to fuck that attitude out, maybe it’s because over the year of knowing you, he’s grown a little crush. Loving the way your eyes light up when a strawberry alcoholic beverage of any kind is placed in front of you. Loving how you smile when you see animals and how you dance around with Yunjin in her living room.

He found it so sexy how you give back every ounce of bullshit he threw at you. So sexy when you wear your tight sweatpants that shape your ass do fine. Finding the small mole above your naval so cute and attractive, mostly when you wear tight crop tops or shorter shirts that lift when you stretch showing off your tummy.

Sunghoon was so down bad for you in many ways that even he wasn’t able to understand it.

He hated you to a degree, but only in a way to keep himself from feeling things he shouldn’t for you.

“I’m crazy?” you burned holes into his eyes when he nodded, “Says the one who got a boner over my legs.”

Sunghoon couldn’t hold it back anymore, slowly palming his cock, “Yeah? And what about it? Your legs are so fucking sexy.” Sunghoon loved your legs and wanted to rub his hands up and down them. Wanted to squeeze the plush of your thighs. Wanted them to straddle him.

You could see it in his eyes, the way his pupils were starting to look blown out and filled with so much lust. He’s never looked at you like that before.

It made your cheeks flush and made you speechless. Your eyes wandered away from his and down to the hand palming himself, watching as his hips slowly shifted up with each stroke of his palm.

It sent heat down your body and pooled between your legs. You hated him, so why was watching him stroke himself so hot to you? Making you want to continue watching him.

“Oh, you so want me,” he whispered, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly sliding his hand down his sweatpants and boxers, letting out a soft grunt and he flung his head back into the headrest, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

You watched how the moonlight and street lamps shined on him as he fucked up into his fist slowly.

“Prick,” you whispered back at him, closing your thighs together in hopes of concealing the rising heat between them. But Sunghoon notices everything.

“You’re so wet, aren’t you? All just from watching me? So dirty.” He was making your blood boil. But the slick between your legs was worse than your anger at the moment, and you knew that he could see it too.

“Shut up,” you closed your legs tighter, trying to fight yourself from looking at him, from looking at how his hand moves under his sweatpants.

“Touch yourself.”

Your eyes widened, “Excuse you?!”

“Shut the fuck up!” he snapped, making you realize you said that a bit too loud, with a groan he repeated himself, “I said touch yourself.”

You snarl at him, opening your mouth to fight back but ultimately stopping when he pulls his hand from his pants and lifts his hips to slide them down to his thighs.

He looked back at you as he wrapped his hand back around himself, a smirk raising, “Close your mouth, you might start drooling, YN.”

You didn’t realize how wide you let your jaw drop at his size…he was huge. Maybe that day you told him to turn his music down, his cock showing wasn’t because of how tight his boxers were…

You closed your mouth, sliding your back into the seat and slouching down, running your thighs even more together.

Sunghoon was loving the way you were looking at him. Loved how you kept darting your eyes back and forth between his face and cock. Oh, the way he’ll tease you about this until his last breath.

He leaned towards you a bit, rubbing his thumb over the tip to spread his precum, “Touch yourself, YN.”

Your heart was racing, your body on fire. You wanted to. So bad. But didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.

Sunghoon let a small moan leave his lips, and you were done for.

You slid your hand down your shorts, your fingers working their way to spread your slick around your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, eyebrows furrowing, “Keep going.”

You stared down at his cock, watching how he bucked his hips in movement with his hand, seeing how his precum leaked from the tip.

But then he released himself, reaching over and stopping his hand below your mouth, “Spit.”

You didn’t hesitate, dripping your saliva into a small pool in his hand. Sunghoon could have came just by the eye contact you gave him as you gave him your spit. Like holy fucking shit it was hot.

Sunghoon spreads your saliva over his cock, hitting his head back into the headrest as his hand glides so easily up and down his shaft, “Oh, fuck.”

You bit your lips and pressed two fingers inside you, letting small and quiet whimpers escape just loud enough for him to hear.

Sunghoon wanted you to expose yourself as he has to you, reaching his free hand to the hem of your shorts and tugging, “Pull’em down.”

So you did. Releasing your fingers from your cunt only long enough to push your shorts and panties down to your ankles and pumping your fingers back into you.

Sunghoon hissed at see you finger fuck yourself. Loving how your hips rolled in time with your fingers. God, he wished it was his fingers inside you.

He looks up to you, seeing that your eyes were still locked onto his cock. He slouched more down into the seat, giving himself more room to pump himself and give you a better view.

You bit your lips tighter and pushed your fingers in faster, knowing damn well you were covering the seat in your juices. But you didn’t care at that moment.

Sunghoon’s hand was on your thigh, spreading your leg more apart, giving you that access to finger fuck yourself faster.

It was driving him up a wall at how you looked right now. You’ve only ever shown him faces of anger, but right now you’re showing him the faces you make when horny and touching yourself. And oh god he was loving it.

He wanted you to look at him while touching yourself. He wanted to see the face you’d make when you cum, wanting you to watch him cum.

“Hey, YN,” he was barely able to whisper, “Eyes on me.”

You locked eyes with him, chills being sent down your spine at his fucked out expression. You couldn’t help but let your imagination run wild. Is this how he looks when he’s having sex? So out of it and lustful?

You wondered how he’d fuck you while you straddled him. Would his hips buck up like they are doing into his fist? Would he go faster? Harder? The thoughts were endless as you stared back into his eyes.

His mouth slightly opened, his lips swollen from how hard he was biting them to keep his moans compressed. He let out small grunts, eyes quickly looking down at how covered your hand was with your wetness, wanting to unbuckle himself and grab you by your thighs until your back was touching the bottom of the seat as he spreads your legs and fucked himself into you.

The thoughts were enough to send him over the edge, “YN,” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

“I’m fixing to cum.”

Your body tensed, fingers moving faster, “Cum then,” you whispered back, your thumb now doing circles on your clit as you pumped yourself.

“M’cumming,” he said with a deep inhale, tucking his lips back between his teeth as he released, his cum leaking out so perfectly and down his hand.

“Fuck,” you whimper, working your fingers faster.

Sunghoon slid his boxers up first, wiping his cum on the inside of his boxers due to not having anywhere else to do so, then slid his sweatpants back over his hips.

He locked his eyes back to yours, seeing how desperate you looked wanting to cum too. He slides his eyes down to your cunt. If it were his hands there…you would have came twice by now.

You wanted to release terribly, but the angle of your hand and the small of the backseat made it difficult for you to chase out that climax. You tensed as you tried to reach for it, calling for it.

Your body froze when Sunghoon’s hand grabs yours, pulling your fingers out of your cunt, “Let me help.”

Usually, you’d protest and yell at him. Call him a prick. Shove him away. But right now you wanted to cum and that priority was above all else.

He replaced your fingers with his. His long fingers slid into you so gracefully, “Fuck you’re so wet,” he moans softly, angling his hand in the perfect spot as he hit your g-spot. Sunghoon couldn’t believe he was feeling you in his hand, feeling your slick pool in his palm, feeling you clench around his fingers. He was already getting hard again.

“Feels good baby?” he whispers in your ear and all you do in response is nod.

Something about his fingers was driving you crazy. The way they hit your g-spot with such ease, the way his thumb brushed against your clit with each movement…

“Say my name,” he says into your ear, pumping his fingers in you faster.

“No,” you say back, your hand flying to his wrist and squeezing it tightly.

“Say my name, YN,” he said again, curling his fingers so deep inside you, your climax nearing so fast you didn’t have time to think, “Say my name baby.”

You opened your mouth, not to say his name, but to moan as you came around his fingers and hand. Sunghoon acted fast enough to press his lips to yours, suppressing your moan from being too loud and letting the others find out what was happening in the back seat.

You closed your eyes at your release, Sunghoon’s fingers still moving inside you slowly, helping you chase out at high.

You kissed him back, without so much as a second thought, you kissed him back.

Maybe you did it as a way to thank him for helping you release, maybe you did it because you wanted to. The lines were blurred and you didn’t know why you let him kiss you.

His fingers slid out from your cunt as he leaned more into you, his tongue spreading your lips apart and making its way into your mouth twirling the muscle around yours.

Once you came down from your high, your eyes opened wide, and shoved Sunghoon back to his side of the car. A chuckle left his lips, “Back to hating me?”

“I never stopped hating you!”

“Right,” he clicked his tongue, as he looked down at his hand covered in your cum, “That’s not what your body said five minutes ago.”

You wanted to call him his usual nickname but stopped short when he lifted his hand to his lips, tongue extending out and licking your cum from his palm then shoved his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean.

Fuck she tastes so good.

Your face reddens, “Prick,”

His eyes roamed down to your cunt, “Pull your shorts up.”

“I hate you.”

—

Once you all arrived at the hotel and checked into your rooms, you quickly locked the door, sliding your back down the wood and covering your face in your hands.

The guilt of what happened was finally hitting you. You masturbated with him. Watch him cum down his hand and even let him make you cum. You let him kiss you, and shove his tongue down your throat.

You felt dirty and in need of a shower to wash away the guilt and feeling of his hand between your legs.

Everyone was supposed to meet down in the lobby twenty minutes after getting to their rooms to change and do whatever else before hitting up the club. It was plenty of time to shower and wash Sunghoon off you.

You scrubbed your body clean and even double-brushed your teeth before sliding into the dress Yunjin and Chaewon forced you to bring, “It makes you look so hot!” Yunjin said, “Fits you in all the right places!”

Well, she was right. The red dress was made of silk and slid down your body perfectly as well as fit you perfectly. It was tight around your frame to show off your curves, shaping your ass and lifting your tits. You slid your feet into matching red sneakers, not caring enough to walk around in heels all night.

You arrived in the lobby, seeing that Jake and Sunghoon were the first ones there.

Just looking at Sunghoon not only brought back your moment in the car together but brought out a different feeling.

You could tell he also showered by how wet his hair still was. His hair was parted perfectly in its normal part, pieces sliding down into his face. His black button-up shirt was tight against his frame, showing his muscled arms and shoulders perfectly. Matching his shirt, he wore black pants that fit him perfectly in a loose way.

Jake mirrored his outfit but in white, going for a whole yin and yang thing. Which made sense for the two of them being best friends and all.

“Wow,” Jake was the first to speak, “You look—“

“Sexy,” Sunghoon finished for him, his gaze eyeing you up and down.

“Yes! Sexy!”

Sunghoon tried to not let his irritation with his best friend show as he watched him practically drool over you. If only Jake knew he was knuckles deep in your pussy not even an hour ago.

Hell, Sunghoon was trying to not drool over you right now. Red was definitely your color and it was doing something to him down in his pants. Especially with the way the tops of your breasts pooled over the top of that dress.

You noticed how he was eye fucking you, earning you to scrunch your nose at him and look away, putting your attention fully on Jake.

Shit, there’s that attitude I want to fuck right out of her.

It didn’t take much longer for the others to arrive and off to the club you all went.

The club was packed. The music you didn’t quite care for and Sunghoon wouldn’t let you out of his sight, following your every move like a hawk hunting his prey.

Everyone else had found their way to the dance floor, shaking some ass and grinding up on random strangers having the time of their lives. That could be you if you didn’t have an idiot penguin on your heels.

You walked up to the bar, waving the bartender over, “Yes ma’am?” he said, his eyes immediately dropping to your cleavage.

“She’ll take a strawberry coconut rum with extra ice please, make it two,” Sunghoon answered for you.

You looked over at him, seeing how closely he stood next to you. Sunghoon wanted to touch you, have his hands on you to show every man in this club to back the fuck off.

“You got it,” the bartender said, giving a small look of irritation at Sunghoon.

Sunghoon just smirked, eyes flickering to his name tag, “Thank you, Choi Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun just thinned his lips out, “Yeah, you’re welcome.” Then he walked off to make the drinks.

Your glare at him didn’t falter, “Can I help you?” Sunghoon asked.

“Can I help YOU? I can order my drinks myself.”

“He was literally eye fucking you, I had to do something.”

You raised a brow at him, “Huh? Is it eating you up so much that other men are looking at me?”

Yes because no one else is allowed to have you.

“Why would I care about that? It’s not them looking, it’s the fact they aren’t just looking. They are undressing you with their eyes and I can’t fucking stand it.”

You’ve never seen Sunghoon so…protective before. He’s never batted an eye at you twice at the clubs and bars back home, letting any and every man hit on you as much as they wanted. What changed between then and now?

Yeonjun returned with your drinks, giving you a flirty smile and glare at Sunghoon before walking away again.

Sunghoon snarled at him.

“Anyway!” You snapped, “How did you know what to even order me?”

Sunghoon chuckled, taking a sip of the alcohol, “I’ve known you for over a year, YN. I’ve seen what you drink when we’ve gone out and at parties. I know you.”

Somehow that hit hard to your heart, that he even paid that much attention to you outside of the constant teasing.

“You hate me, why go through this trouble?” you scoffed, chugging down your drink quickly, wanting to already feel the buzz.

“I hate you, but not in the same way you hate me,” he finally admitted, “It’s not any trouble at all to protect you, I’ve always done it, always shooed off anyone who would hit on you for too long. You just never noticed it.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your memory shoving back in time at every time someone hit on you, how they’d flirt and touch your waist, only for them to leave to grab a drink and never return. Now you know why, Sunghoon got to them.

“What do you mean that you don’t hate me the same way I hate you?”

Sunghoon looked away from you, chugging down the last bit of his drink before tossing it back onto the bar counter and taking a deep breath in.

“You hate me because of how I flirt with you, how I tease you about anything and everything. You hate me for how loud I blast my music, hate me for being loud when Heeseung, Jay, and Jake are over, hate me for the number of females I’ve brought in and out of my apartment, hate me because you think I had a threesome with those girls all that time ago when I actually didn’t, by the way, I sent them home before anything else could happen. And you hate me for competing against you in class, hate me for joining your friend group, the list goes on. But me? I hate you because of how bad I want you.”

He looked back at you, his face softened from his hardened look from earlier at Yeonjun. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was holding everything back.

Sunghoon wanted to yell at you for how stupid you were for not seeing how he felt about you. That his little teasing and acts of flirting were because he likes you. Yeah, he wanted to fuck your brains out along with that nasty attitude of yours, that ain’t no lie, but the moment he first laid his eyes on you his heart wanted to jump out his chest. And after seeing the way you eyed him up that one day you went to yell at him about his music, it tipped him over the edge to always wanting to be that thorn in your side pissing you off. Because it was better than making you feel nothing at all for him.

Sunghoon sighs, “I hate you because I want you so bad. I hate you because you can’t even dare say my name. I hate you for the things you make me feel. I fucking hate you for letting me kiss you in the car because now all I can think about is how I’d get my lips back on yours.”

You stared blankly at him, before nervously shaking your head and letting out a chuckle, “Right. This is just your way of teasing me again.”

“If I wanted to tease you right now, I’d bring up how badly you were gasping at my cock in the car.”

“Shut up!” You snapped, your face reaching the same shade as your dress.

He smirked at you, “All that aside, I want you so fucking bad that I can’t handle it anymore, and by how fucking wet you were for me…” he took a step closer to you, face nearly inches apart from yours, “I know you want me so bad too.”

You swallowed, body shaking from how close he was to you right now. Sunghoon rested his forehead against yours, biting at his lower lip, “Say my name,”

You lifted your face a bit, barely brushing your lips to his, “No,”

Sunghoon’s hands were now at your waist, fingers digging into that sexy dress of yours that he wanted to rip from your body, “God I want to fuck that attitude out of you.”

Your heart was doing flips and you finally understood why: because of the feelings that ran deep within you that you sheltered up and locked away. Finally understanding that’s why he made your blood boil at nearly existing. You were forcing the feelings you felt for him away.

You landed your hands on his biceps, rubbing your thumb over the muscle, “Say my name,” he said again.

You smiled, shaking your head.

Sunghoon just smirked back at you, taking a few steps back and guiding you with him, “I am going to get you to say my name.”

You, for the first time, flirted back, “How are you going to do that?”

He didn’t respond, just kept pulling you toward the entrance of the club and until you were back at the hotel and being shoved into his room.

His mouth found yours, his hands roaming every inch of your body as your fingers trailed down his shirt, undoing every button until the black fabric was lying somewhere on the floor.

Sunghoon shoved his tongue down your throat at the same time he found the zipper to your dress, pulling it down in a shift motion to get you out of it quickly.

His cock was twitching in his pants, so eager to be set free and find its new home inside your cunt.

The moment your dress hit the floor, you were shoved onto your back on the bed, his hands on your hips and pulling you to the edge, looping his fingers into your panties nearly ripping them off you.

“So fucking needy,” you teased him, “Want me that bad?”

Sunghoon hissed, “You have no fucking idea.”

He towered over you, pressing his lips back to yours as his fingers slipped into your soaked pussy. You moaned against his mouth, closing your thighs around his hand.

“Say my name,” he said once again, “I wanna hear you say it.”

You bit your lip, ushering out another no.

Sunghoon was going insane for this little game of yours, it turned him on more than he’d like to admit. Maybe he was actually crazy.

“Say my name,” he said as he pushed his fingers into you harder, curling his fingers at your g-spot, “Scream my name and I might consider letting you cum.”

You slid your hand down to your clit, working your fingers against it, “That's fine, I’ll just make myself cum.”

Sunghoon groaned, swatting your hand from your clit and removing his fingers. Both hands grabbing at your waist and flipping you over, lifting your ass up and making your back arch, “Shit I can’t wait to fuck that attitude of yours away.”

“Funny you think that’s something that can be done,”

He took a handful of your hair and lifted you up, letting out a “Watch me,” in a whisper against your ear, then shoved you back down into the sheets.

You heard the sound of his pants hitting the floor, then felt his tip prod at your entrance, “Prick…”

“What was that?”

“Pri—“

Before you could make out the word, he shoved his length into you, bottoming out then pushing himself back out and then in, not giving you any time to adjust to his size.

You didn’t care though, the pleasure was far too great as he fucked into you like you were a bitch in heat, “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll start thinking twice before giving me attitude again.”

And that’s how you ended up here, back pressed so tightly against his chest as his cock and fingers worked their magic on your body.

You reached your hands up and behind his, fingers tangling into his hair as your brain became foggy.

He fucked into you with the full intention of getting you to scream his name. Of getting you to come so unglued on his cock you’ll be begging him to fuck you some more.

Even with these goals in mind, Sunghoon couldn’t believe he had your body pressed up against his, cock so balls deep into your cunt, and hearing your moans so crystal clear in his ear. He loved it. Loved how much of a mess he was making of you.

He worked his middle finger faster against your clit, “Say my name,” he begged, “Say my fucking name.”

You bit down on your lip, trying with any willpower left that you had to keep from screaming his name. From giving him exactly what he wanted.

Sunghoon kept trying and wasn’t going to stop until his name left your lips. He’ll fuck you until the sun starts raising if he had to, all to hear your pretty voice speak his name.

Your climax was fast approaching, you wanted to cum so bad, and you knew what you had to do to reach it, finally letting go.

“Sunghoon,” you softly moaned.

“Louder,” he growled.

“Sunghoon,” you moaned again.

“Louder!”

“SUNGHOON,” you screamed at the same time you came on his dick, his fingers and thrusts did not slow long down.

“Fuccckkkk yessss,” he groaned, removing his fingers from your clit and using all his weight to push you back down into the sheets, his hands taking yours and lifting them above your head, pounding into you faster and harder than before.

You chanted his name, losing your breath at the ecstasy that filled you.

“That’s it, baby, scream my name like it’s the only name you’ll ever know.”

You continued to moan his name, making it music to his ears and filling his heart with such happiness he didn’t think was possible.

“Fuck, you love hoonie’s cock, ya? Love the way I give it to you?”

“Hoonie,” you cried out, “Fucking love your cock so much.”

Sunghoon gripped his hands tighter around yours, “Cum for me again baby, you can do it.”

You released on him again, your eyes seeing stars.

He pushed your legs further apart with his knees and fucked harder into you, “I’m so in love with you,” he admitted, “I love that stupid ass attitude of yours, I love fucking that attitude out, I love the way you say my name and love the way you look at me while I fuck you. I love you.”

You lifted your head, barely being able to look at him, but you did. You were looking up at him with such endearment. Like he was the one who put the stars in the sky just like he’s the one making you see them right now.

“Sunghoon,” he came undone at how softly you said his name, his seed unloading into your gummy walls, slowing his thrust as he chased down his high, “I love you too.”

—

You both sat hand in hand in the backseat, Sunghoon pinching your cheeks in a teasing manner as he rubbed his nose against yours, his smile so wide.

“Hey,” Jay called from the front seat, “What the fuck happened with you two?”

Heeseung groaned and slung his head onto the headrest, “You don’t even want to know! They were fucking each other's brains out all night.”

Chaewon yawned at the driver's seat, “Be lucky you didn’t have a room next to his.”

“No for real,” Heeseung added, “I got so tired hearing how many times he asked YN to cum for him. Wanted to shove pencils down my ears.”

Sunghoon slapped his friend's chest, “Bring earphones next time buddy.”

Jake and Yunjin looked at each other confused at what happened between their best friends, but going along anyway. Jake always knew Sunghoon had feelings for you and saw how he bottled it up. Jake guessed last night was Sunghoon’s tipping point. And Yunjin always knew you’d break at some point and accept Sunghoon, she just didn’t expect it to be as a lover.

“Anyway,” Jay said rubbing his temples, “Let’s hit the road, I have work tomorrow and need to sleep off more of this hangover.”

Chaewon then started the drive back home.

Sunghoon rested his face back against yours, bringing your lips to his, “Say my name again.”

“Sunghoon,” you whispered between kisses, “Sunghoon, Sunghoon, Sunghoon.”

#myiceprince #park sunghoon #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #reader x sunghoon #sunghoon smut #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enemies to lovers #yeonzzzn writing

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wwooyology · 1 year ago

Text

I'm Yours, You're Mine | P.SH

↳ this is an add-on part to this fic here! read this one first

「paring」 : idol!bf!sunghoon x idol!fem!reader 「word count」 : 2.2k

「synopsis」 : in the midst of your 'punishment,' you are brought to your limit, and for once in your life, you use the safe word. realizing that maybe he had gone just too far, sunghoon reels back and makes sure that you're okay.

「genre」 : smut, fluff, comfort?, idol!au

「warning」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!, cussing, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mentions of passing out, usage of a safe word, kissing, petnames (princess, baby...), aftercare, sunghoon makes up for being crazy, lots and lots of fluffiness, lmk if I missed anything!!

「notes」 : this is a requested add-on by this anon here!

Your vision flashes white as Sunghoon pulls yet another orgasm from your spent body. The moans and cries that fell from your lips were merely squeaks as you had long since lost your voice. Sunghoon’s relentless thrusts into your overly sensitive cunt were causing your brain to fog, pain shooting through all of your nerves.

Sunghoon had lost count of how many times either of you had cum; both of your bodies were covered in the other's cum and sweat. The sheets under your body were drenched in your juices, causing them to stick to your body.

“Fuck baby, you’re begging me to stop, yet you’re still squeezing me so hard.” Sunghoon groaned as he landed one particular thrust causing you to cry out as pain shot through your lower body. His hands that were gripping your hips were sure to leave bruises.

Your hands that he had freed moments ago were wrapped around his forearms, nails leaving crescent marks on his skin. Pleas of him to slow down came out incoherent as he continued to fuck into you maliciously. You couldn’t even warn him nor prepare yourself when another orgasm washed over you, nearly causing you to pass out for the second time.

It was starting to hurt more than it was pleasurable, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take before it broke you completely. So, mustered as much strength as you could, moving your hands to push against his lower abdomen.

“P-Purple.” You breathed out, merely above a whisper, as your eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming from the corners. However, Sunghoon didn’t hear you and slapped your hands away to continue to slam into you, on the brink of his own orgasm. “Purple! Sunghoon, please.” You cried out, your voice hoarse, and all of Sunghoon’s movements slowed, allowing you to breathe for once in the many hours he has had you underneath him.

“Say that again.” Sunghoon wasn’t sure if he had heard you right, but the way your shaky hands were trying to pry his hands away from your body was enough for him to slow to a complete stop.

“Purple. It hurts, Sunghoon, please.” You sobbed, your tearful eyes looking up to meet his, and he could have sworn his heart stopped.

It was like a switch had flipped in Sunghoon’s brain; he loosened his grip on your hips and pulled from your abused pussy, causing you to whine out. As soon as he completely pulled out of you, you scooted away from him, pulling your legs to your body as tears continued to spill down your cheeks.

“Baby…” Sunghoon’s voice was soft as he tried to reach for you but recoiled when you flinched. “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, bringing his hand back to his body before getting off of the bed to grab his boxers.

Pulling them up his hips, he made his way back over to you, his heart squeezing at the sight of your trembling body. He had gotten so lost in the lust and pleasure that he completely forgot to pay attention to your body language like he normally would.

Holding his breath, he reached for your body, grabbing your bicep gently, causing you to look up at him with wide, fear-filled eyes. A sight he wished to never see. He leaned over you, his hand slipping down to your hip as he lightly pressed his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry, princess,” His voice was soft, and your eyes fluttered shut as his warm breath washed over your face. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and we can watch a movie or something, okay?” His thumb rubbed soothing circles on your hip, causing your body to relax a bit. Sensing that you were starting to calm down, Sunghoon pulled away slightly, “I’m gonna run you a bath; just sit tight.” You breathed out slowly as he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead before pulling away completely and making his way to the bathroom.

Walking into the bathroom, Sunghoon turned on the tap, letting the water run warm before plugging the drain. He then walked over to the counter and leaned against it, eyes closed as he beat himself up for going overboard.

Letting out a frustrated groan, he opened his eyes only to see the marks on his forearms from where you had been digging your nails into his skin. Small blotches of dried blood around some of them.

“Fuck me…” He sighed, pushing himself off of the counter before running his hands through his hair. He felt like a complete asshole after seeing the tears that covered your face knowing that they were no longer because of pleasure, and it took you using the safe word for him to realize.

Letting out a long sigh, he looked over at the bath, seeing that it was full enough, so he walked over and turned the tap off. He then grabbed one of the bath bombs that you kept here and placed it in the water, watching it bubble for a few moments before making his way out of the room.

Walking into the bedroom, Sunghoon found you still curled up on the bed, only moving enough to grab the blanket to cover yourself. Your eyes were droopy as you tried to fight the urge to sleep off. He couldn’t help but smile softly at how cute you were, the way your hair stuck to your forehead, and how your lips were parted slightly as you breathed.

“Princess…” he called out to you, and the only response he got was a soft hum as you snuggled deeper into the sheets, causing him to chuckle slightly. “The bath is ready, come on.” He peeled the blanket off of your body, causing you to whine and open your eyes to look at him.

“I don’t wanna.” You grumbled, trying to grab the blanket back, but he just moved it further from your reach. A pout formed on your lips as you tried to give him the best ‘puppy-dog’ eyes you could muster, hoping that he would just let you lie there and sleep.

“I know you love my cum, but you don’t need to sleep with it on you. Unless you really want to.” He teased, causing heat to flush your cheeks as you covered your face. Chuckling, Sunghoon leans down to scoop you up in his arms, a small sound of surprise leaving your lips and your arms going around his neck. He pressed a kiss against your kiss, relishing the warmth your skin brought him before making his way back into the bathroom.

Once you both were in the bathroom, Sunghoon walked over to the bathtub and sat you inside. You let out a soft sigh as the warm water surrounded your body, closing your eyes as you took in the scent of cherry blossoms filling your nostrils.

You moved slightly to make room for Sunghoon because you thought he would be joining you, but you felt him move away from the tub. Quickly opening your eyes, you reached out to grab him, your fingers wrapping around his pinky and ring fingers, causing him to look back at you.

“Are you not getting in?” You sounded disappointed as you looked up at him, your bottom lip jutted out. He smiled softly before grabbing your hand and kissing the center of your palm.

“I need to change the sheets; I’ll join you afterward.” He promised before setting your hand down and making his way out of the bathroom.

On his way to the laundry room, Sunghoon found Jake sitting on the couch, watching something on his phone. Raising an eyebrow, he looked at the older male, wondering why he was just sitting there. Feeling someone’s eyes on him, Jake looked over, meeting Sunghoon’s eyes and taking the earbud out of his ear.

“Uh… hey,” Jake greeted the dark-haired male sheepishly, “there’s food in the kitchen, I was gonna let you know earlier, but you were too busy dicking y/n down.” He pointed towards the entrance of the kitchen, “How is she? By the way, it sounded like you were really giving it to her.”

Sunghoon glared at the boy, having not forgotten why he was in this situation to begin with. Biting back the insults on his tongue, he turned to walk away.

“Don’t let me catch you near her unless absolutely needed.” Sunghoon’s voice was cold, causing a chill to run down Jake’s spine as he watched him walk away.

After starting the washer, Sunghoon made their way over to the linen closet to grab new bedding and made his way back to the bedroom. Making quick work of making the bed, he made sure it was ready for when you got out of the bath. He then walked over to the closest to grab a change of clothes for the both of you.

Hearing his footsteps, you opened your eyes and sat up from leaning back, a small smile adorning your lips. Sunghoon felt his heart squeeze as he saw nothing but love in your eyes. He didn’t feel like he deserved it, not after what happened. He had never been that harsh before, and he never wanted to do it again if it meant seeing that look on your face.

Sunghoon stripped out of his boxers and slipped into the tub behind you as you scooted forward. Once he was settled he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back into him until you were resting on his chest.

That’s how the two of you sat for a little bit, relishing in the warmth of the water and each other. Sunghoon’s hands massaged your tense thighs and hips, listening to your soft moans that would slip out unintentionally. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep himself from getting hard, reminding himself that you had already done more than enough.

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t realize how rough I was.” Sunghoon whispered as he pressed a soft kiss on your shoulder. You just snuggled closer to him, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your lips, placing kisses on each of his knuckles.

“I’m not mad, Hoon.” You promised, interlocking your fingers with his before laying it on your stomach.

He rested his chin on the top of your head, closing his eyes and taking in the scent of your shampoo. "Are you sure?”

You hummed a soft confirmation, leaning back into his chest, your fingers drawing shapes on his forearm. Then you felt the welts, causing you to look down, seeing the crescent-shaped wounds on his forearm.

Noticing where your gaze was, “I’m fine, my love, I’m more worried about you.” He spoke softly as he brought his hand up to trace the bite mark that was on your collarbone. “Do you think your manager would be too mad?”

You lay your head back on his shoulder, looking up at him as you contemplated, “She’ll be fine. I have the next week off anyway.” You shrugged, causing Sunghoon to laugh softly before nodding.

Once the two of you were done with the bath, Sunghoon helped you out of the water before grabbing your towel to dry your body off. You couldn’t help the silly smile that spread on your lips as he turned to grab your clothes.

When he turned back around, you had expected him to hand you your underwear, but instead, he bent down in front of you, tapping your calf softly.

“Lift your leg for me, princess.” You did as told and allowed him to slip your underwear over your hips before helping you put on one of his t-shirts.

After both of you were dressed, Sunghoon refused to let you walk the few feet into the bedroom and opted to just carry you. Your arms hung loosely around his neck as he carried you into the room. Your eyes were on his face, and you studied all of his features in detail, much like you normally do when you’re this close.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” He asked as he softly laid you on the bed, his hands barely leaving your body as he joined you in the comforter.

You just snuggled into his side as he finished getting comfortable, throwing the blanket over the both of you.

“No, I just wanna sleep.” You mumbled into his chest as your arms draped over his abdomen.

Sunghoon nodded, kissing your forehead and turned slightly to switch the lamp off before wrapping his arms around your body. The feeling of his fingers tracing shapes on your back and the sound of his heartbeat under your ear was enough to lull you to sleep, but you had one last thing you wanted to get off your mind before you did.

“You know I love you and only you, right?” You lifted your head to rest your chin on his chest so you could look at him, “I’m yours just as much as you are mine.”

Sunghoon could not help the stupid smile that spread on his lips. “I love you so much, baby girl.” He spoke softly, placing one last kiss on your forehead before the both of you drifted off to sleep.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

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sugarushwriting · 10 months ago

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ot7 vampire enhypen and their human blood bank (you) part two

ni-ki went rogue (yikes)

sfw with some innuendos (the nsfw is coming i promise)

not proof read

reblog, like, and let me know your thoughts! please don’t repost or translate.

kinda like a filler part (?) but still interesting and the next few parts get more interesting (?) please trust me and bare with me!

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

jay had picked you up and brought you straight to the house (actually mansion) the boys lived in. it was in a historic part of downtown, which happened to be no more than a 30 minute walk (5-7 minute drive) to main campus.

historic brick home, built in the 1800s and renovated to fit modern style but also kept the original charm and character. you loved the bookshelves and home library the house had. jay made sure to let you know you were welcome over whenever and that would be your safe space. when you were in the library, none of the boys would bother you. even if they had to feed, they would use the blood bags before bothering you.

5 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms, and a finished basement for entertainment. the newbies all share a bedroom. apparently jay was currently searching for a bigger house.

entering the house, sunoo and jungwon were waiting for you and jay to arrive back.

“where’s ni-ki?” you asked barely above a whisper.

“he’s downstairs with sunghoon and jake.” jay answered.

“and heeseung?”

“went to check on the girl in the hospital.”

you let out a big sigh of distress. you hope she was okay, you really did. but would she remember what happened? would she tell the cops on ni-ki and jeopardize the boys secret?

“what—what happened?” you asked looking at all three boys attentively and walked to were jungwon and sunoo sat. both immediately grabbed your hands in their own as jay sat on the coffee table facing you to explain what happened.

jay and sunghoon, the two being the oldest members (in vampire age) had always reiterated to the newbies how feeding on a human for the first time isn’t something to take lightly. it can be deadly for both sides, as well as the newbie losing control due to lust.

there was a curfew for the newbies. be home by 8 pm, if they needed to be out later, sunghoon or jay had to be with them. absolutely off limits was being alone with someone. not just a girl, but a guy too. a newbie will feed on any human with a heartbeat. you did learn though, whichever the newbie is attracted to though, the longing and lust would be stronger.

sunoo had warned ni-ki not to break the rules, but ni-ki insisted he would be okay. he had snuck out around 12 to go meet the girl. sunoo immediately told the olders when he awoke seeing ni-ki’s bunk below his empty around 1:30 am.

jay and sunghoon went out to find ni-ki, and luckily, it didn’t take long as sunoo had ni-ki’s laptop and saw the messages where they were meeting.

the girl had somehow cut her hand earlier that day, and while out with ni-ki her wound reopened. ni-ki smelt the flesh blood. his eyes changed and before the girl could even scream, his teeth had been embedded into her wrist. his other hand had gripped her other wrist so hard, his nails caused a cut, and he fed on that too.

while jay pulled ni-ki off, ni-ki, covered in blood on his face and shirt, smirked and ran off, leaving a trail. jay went after him. sunghoon stayed back to make sure the girl’s memory was erased from the last 30 minutes. he made sure she repeated,

“ni-ki and i said goodbye. he was not the cause of my accident.”

“how—what happened when you caught him? why did sunghoon leave the girl?”

“sunghoon wasnt going to leave her, but he heard someone coming.” jay explained, “i caught ni-ki in no time. although i’m and elder and he’s a newbie that was hyped on his first feed, i am still faster and stronger.”

jay explained how with ni-ki’s behavior right now, an elder needs to be with him at all times, as he wouldn’t be able to manipulate them. ni-ki also doesn’t have the ability to manipulate the one who changed him—hence why jake and sunghoon was with him.

“can i see him?” you asked standing up.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea, love.” jay shook his head but you pouted.

“please jay.” you begged. “i won’t be scared, i promise.”

“it’s not you being scared of him i am worried about. it’s how his behavior will be towards you.”

“what do you mean?” you crossed your arms. it couldn’t be that bad, could it?

“love, he’s very hungry, thirsty, lustful, right now. he’s chained in our basement in a small, hidden room we have for reasons like this. never thought we’d need it. if he smells you, heck he probably smells you now, he will literally not be able to control himself. his mind, emotions, words, all of it.”

“jay—,”

“no, i will not allow you to see him right now. he’s also very angry cause we are denying him of blood, and draining his body of the human thirst.”

your face dropped, “draining?”

“more like, detoxing. he won’t have blood, well, good, fresh blood for a while. the next day or 2, we will be giving him old blood, that doesn’t taste good, but will keep him alive.”

“and that will help him?”

jay nodded, “yes. it could take 12 hours or it could take 12 days.”

“what about school?”

“it’s already been taken care of, okay?” jay tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, then cradled your cheek. “are you hungry?”

you shook your head. “no just tired.” it was still early in the morning from being woke up out of your sleep.

“go lay in my bed. you can sleep in some of my clothes if needed.”

you smiled. “thanks jay.”

as you went up the stairs, jungwon turned to jay with panic in his eyes. “how am i supposed to feed on her now? i don’t want to hurt her, jay.”

“and you won’t because you’ll have me and one of the others with you, okay? we’ll guide you.”

jungwon shook his head with a sniffle, “i don’t want to lose control.”

“jungwon, if i didn’t think you could, i wouldn’t even had mentioned it as a possibility.” jay soothed, “you have the best control as a newbie that i’ve seen and i mean that.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you woke up next to an empty bed around 10 am. you sat up and stretched with a groan, your bones popping.

going to jay’s ensuite, you brushed your hair and teeth, before going downstairs to a quiet home.

you walked around looking for life (haha) but when you found no one, your eyes turned to the door leading to the basement. your heart picked up as your hand reached for the doorknob.

“baby doll, what are you doing?”

you jumped with a squeal hearing sunghoon behind you. he had a smile on his face showing his natural pointy k-9s.

“i, uh, i was looking for someone.” you scratched your head. “i walked around the house and didn’t find anyone.”

“that’s because we’re all still asleep.”

“why aren’t you?”

“i sensed you were up to no good.”

“what about jay? he’s not in bed.”

“he’s with ni-ki.” sunghoon said. “and jay made it very clear you are to not go in the basement, no matter how many times you pout and bat your eyelashes.”

you groaned. “fine.” your stomach grumbled. “can you fix me breakfast?”

“you know i’m not the best cook.”

“you’ve been dead slash alive for how long and you still can’t master it up like a chef like jay?”

“no matter how long we’ve been living, there are just some things you’ll never be good at.” sunghoon laughed and he led you to the kitchen.

“what do you want, baby doll?”

“mhmm, pancakes?”

“that, i can do.”

“can i help?” it was jungwon’s voice who joined you both in the kitchen, with sunoo right behind.

“sure. i thought you two would still be asleep.” sunghoon said, then explained how newbies usually sleep most of the day away for at least the first 6 months as they’re building up their strength.

“too worried about ni-ki.” sunoo sighed and sat at the barstool next to you.

“he’s fine.” heeseung’s voice was next to say as you heard the basement door shut.

you quickly turned around. “you were down there with him and jay?”

heeseung nodded. he kissed the top of your head with a “hi pretty,” greeting.

“how do you define, fine?” you challenged.

“he’s not dead—again.”

you smiled at the joke and nodded. “how long have you and jay been down there?”

“just about 3 hours.” heeseung yawned.

“you must be tired!” you gasped and turned to sunghoon, suddenly feeling guilty of having him make you breakfast.

“it’s no worries, okay? i’ll sleep after breakfast is done.” and sunghoon did just that. after finishing the pancakes to feed the whole house, he went back to to his room to sleep.

heeseung explained to sunoo and jungwon that he would be taking them out today to learn to control their urges while in public.

“where are we going?”

“fighting match.” heeseung smirked.

“so violent!” you screwed your face in disgust.

after those three left, jay was still downstairs with ni-ki, jake was still fast asleep, and sunghoon was asleep in his room.

you took the opportunity to go to the library and find a book to read. eventually you fell asleep on the big couch that was in the library.

ni-ki, it was ni-ki. but why were you in the basement?

“help me.” ni-ki pleaded and you went closer to him. poor boy looked pathetic. he was extremely pale and looked as if he hadn’t eaten in years!

“i need to feed or i’ll die.” he said. your feet moved before your mouth. his eyes changed, and his fangs came out.

“feed on me.” you said.

ni-ki’s smile did not look welcoming. his smile looked creepy. the basement light flickered and the next light, ni-ki was covered in blood staring at you. “don’t mind if i do.”

just as ni-ki went to attack, you awoke startled, you too out of breath to even scream. you were gasping desperately for air, and looked around your surroundings.

you were still in the library. the book fell to the ground. your hand went to your head as you felt a headache forming. “what the fuck was that?” you whispered to yourself.

“you okay?” sunghoon asked from the doorway to the library.

you turned with a startle, but smiled and nodded. “i’m good.”

“are you done reading?”

you nodded and got up from the couch putting the book on the shelf. “you need to feed? it’s been a while.” you asked.

sunghoon nodded, “if you don’t mind doll.”

“i don’t.” you said truthfully. another thing you learned is that the older vampires (jay and sunghoon) can go longer in between feeds, especially since their feeds are more intense.

once you reached the doorway to the library, sunghoon intertwined your hands together and led you to his bedroom.

you got in a spot on his bed lying down. you were still in your (jays) shorts, so sunghoon would have no trouble accessing your right thigh. just like jake, his favorite place to feed was your upper thigh.

in no time, sunghoon had his teeth sunk into you. you let out a quick groan of pain with the initial feeling, but it didn’t last long. as sunghoon fed, your mind with fuzzy, and your head fell back on the bed. you don’t remember sunghoon gripping your other leg to make sure you stayed open for him. you don’t remember him finishing, his face stricken with panic as he noticed you weren’t responding to him.

“baby doll, open.” you faintly heard him say.

“what’s wrong with her?” it was jake’s aussie accent.

“i don’t know.” sunghoon said with genuine concern. the guys always made sure you had enough energy and strength before feeds, and they made sure that you knew that. if you didn’t feel well, you were supposed to tell them.

your mouth was opened by jakes fingers and a thick drink was poured down your throat. it was some kind of protein shake to hopefully get your strength back up.

your breathing resumed to a normal rate. you don’t know how long you were out, but you had the same nightmare about ni-ki.

this time when you startled awoke, sunghoon and jake were there. “baby doll, what happened?”

“nightmare.” you said, but sunghoon and jake demanded you told them about it. and when you did, sunghoon wasn’t happy.

sunghoon stormed off out of his room, down to the basement, ignoring jays confused face as he opened the door to the single blocked off room. ni-ki was there, smirk on his face.

“aw man, you’re not who i wanted to see.” he chuckled.

“leave her alone!” sunghoon yelled.

jay rushed in beside sunghoon. “what happened?”

before either boy could speak, they heard your footsteps coming down the basement steps. your eyes glazed over in almost a trance.

“she wouldn’t stop! i didn’t want to hurt her.” jake voiced with worry from behind you.

both sunghoon and jay turned to ni-ki who still had an all knowing smile on his face. “what?” he clicked his tongue. “looks like she wants me to feed on her.”

“ni-ki.” was all you said. before you could step closer, sunghoon slammed the door back, and jay rushed to your side.

“wake up.” he commanded. you did so. his tone was dark and deep, which was probably his authority as head vampire.

“huh?” you looked around confused. you noticed you were in the basement when you saw the pool table. then you panicked looking at jay. “jay,” you began but jay cut you off.

“no worries love. go upstairs and pack an overnight bag. jake, go get jungwon to meet in the living room with an overnight bag as well.”

you didn’t question or argue and went straight upstairs with jake right behind you.

sunghoon and jay discussed amongst themselves. the detox wasn’t working quick enough. ni-ki smelt you from the moment you walked in that door. with sunghoon feeding on you, it got stronger, your smell.

ni-ki had tried to use mind control to let him feed on you. that’s why you were drained so quickly from sunghoon’s feeding.

“i knew it was a bad idea bringing her here, sunghoon.” jay explained. “i’m taking her and jungwon to a hotel overnight.”

“make sure she eats really well.” sunghoon warned, not wanting earlier events to happen again.

jay and sunghoon have decided, it was time for jungwon to feed.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

#enhypen drabbles #enhypen smut #vampire enhypen #enhypen vampire au #enhypen fanfiction #reader x jay #reader x enhypen #reader x heeseung #reader x jake #reader x sunghoon #reader x jungwon #reader x sunoo #reader x ni-ki

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jaystardust · 1 year ago

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𖦹 ༘⋆𓇼ִ ࣪🐚⋆｡ LIKE HOT SUMMER—PREVIEW

Pairing: sim Jake x fem!reader, ft. lee heeseung, sungchan of riize

Genre: brother best friend, beach au, fluff, angst

Warnings: angst, suggestive, sungchan is kind of a toxic ex, cheating, alcohol consumption, slut shaming...(maybe more to come)

Word Count: for now 4.5K but it's just the half

Release: posted!

Taglist : @heelovesmeknot @dreamiestay @anormieee @citylightsdoll @tiffanyyamarr-blog @ak-aaa-li @capri-cuntz @dreamiestay

send an ask/comment to be on the taglist <3

Preview below the cut! (wc:500)

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The feeling of sea salt drying on your skin, the light breeze flowing through your hair, and the hot sand beneath your feet can seem so near yet so far at the same time.

The break-up was still fresh, so fresh that you had trouble getting used to it, or at least realizing it. A week ago, when you had to go to your shift – an unscheduled shift, as you had to replace a colleague – you caught your boyfriend hooking up with one of your colleagues in the supply room… very hygienic, by the way…

That's why he offered you to spend vacation with him and his best friend Jake at the beach. His best friend had invited him many times to his family's beach house. So when Heeseung mentioned your situation to him, he immediately asked if you would like to join them.

166 notes · View notes

heethera · 24 days ago

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˖*°࿐ •*⁀➷ 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧!

➜ summary: you just moved into a new building, right across from three loud guys. two said sorry and the third couldn’t care less.

pairing: pshx f!reader,wc: 14k words , genre: enemies to lovers ish, neighbor!au, fluff, romcom w: rude jokes, cussing, kissing

The elevator doors swung open, and soon you stepped out into the third floor hallway. You looked like you were moving in, which in your defense…you were. The oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder, arms hugging a stack of takeout containers and a cactus you had that had pricked you far too many times, but that didn’t matter. You were finally on your own.

Unit 3B. That was you now.

Your keys jingled in your palm as you found the door, nudged it open with one knee, and stepped into the apartment you’d stared at for months on rental listings. It wasn’t huge, but it had a little kitchen with enough space for your mum’s rice cooker, and a balcony that caught the sun in the morning. You spun around in the centre of the room, grinning, almost knocking the cactus you had just placed on the counter in the process.

And by nightfall, the place felt like yours. Your fairy lights were strung up across your living room. Your fridge held exactly a bottle of soda, some tuna you had eaten an hour ago and a bag of unwashed grapes. You lit a vanilla candle, the one your best friend, Jungwon, made you promise to use so you'd remember him… even while being so far apart. But Jungwon hated travelling, so in his mind, you'd basically moved to another continent.

Jungwon dramatically declared, “You’re practically moving to another country.��

“Jungwon, I’m literally a two-hour train ride away.”

“That’s basically Europe.”

You rolled your eyes at the memory, smiling to yourself.

Still, you were glad you’d made the decision to move. Three years ahead of you… of being on your own, of learning to be independent, part-time jobs, and what you hoped…a future incoming relationship. It should be easy. It should be peaceful. It should be—

“DUDE!!!”

A scream ripped through your wall.

It came from the wall to your right, a thin wall nudged between you and your neighbours. You could hear celebrations. A voice shouted, “THAT WAS INSANE!” followed by a loud thump like someone had jumped off the sofa.

You tried ignoring it at first, burying yourself under the blanket like it could block out noise. But 20 minutes in, another screamed “HE’S OFFSIDE, YOU DUMB—” loud enough to rattle the walls, you snapped.

You threw on your hoodie, jammed your feet into slippers, and marched out the front door like you were storming a battlefield. The hallway was dim and quiet, except for the muffled party behind door 3C. You knocked, hard, but polite.

The door creaked open mid-laughter, revealing three guys mid-snack, mid-game.

“Hi,” you said, tight smile. “Sorry to bother you, but… would you mind keeping it down a little? I’ve got a test tomorrow and it’s kinda hard to focus with all the screaming.”

The one with fluffy hair, cute little eyes, nodded immediately. “Shit. Sorry, sorry. Totally our bad.”

Another one, long lashes and a goofy smile, actually winced. “Didn’t realise it was that loud. We’ll keep it down, promise.”

“Are you new here?” the first one asked.

You nodded. “I just moved in today, actually.”

“Oh shit. Mrs Kim moved out?”

“Damn, we’re not getting her kimchi anymore, that’s for sure.”

“We gotta eat those store-bought ones that taste like ass.”

The second boy looked at you again, more focused this time. “Oh right! I’m Jake! It’s great to meet you! I’m sorry it happened under… unfortunate circumstances. But we’ll be quieter!”

“I’m Jay, by the way,” the first one added with a small grin, pushing his hair back.

You nodded, smiling slightly. At least they were nice about it. Well, two out of three, anyway.

You glanced past both of them, eyes landing on the third boy slouched on the couch, still holding the controller, gaze fixed on the paused screen like you weren’t even there. His jaw clenched once. No name. No hello. Just a subtle, annoyed glance in your direction before he looked away again.

Cool. So he hates you. That’s cool with you.

The third guy didn’t say anything. Just glanced at you once, then turned back toward the TV.

“Uh, thanks,” you said, lips tight, already backing away.

You returned to your apartment and for a blessed thirty minutes, it was quiet.

Then someone scored a goal and the wall shook again.

You blinked slowly at your ceiling, arms folded under your head like the weight of your patience was finally starting to crush your ribs. Okay. So that’s how it was going to be. You frowned.

And that was literally… how war started.

The next morning, fuelled by petty vengeance and two hours of sleep, you grabbed your pastel pink sticky notes and wrote:

“Dear 3C, I’ve played FIFA before. It is not that damn fun for you to be out here screaming. Please tone it down. Regards, the zombie in 3B.”

You slapped it on their door. Nothing changed.

And the next day:

“Dear 3C, I can’t sleep. Kindly shut up <3 With love, the girl one more sleepless night away from writing to the landlord. 3B.”

You half expected them to ignore it. Instead, you found your note missing by mid-afternoon. Gone.

For a moment, you felt powerful. Maybe they’d actually listened.

Then 8:43 p.m. hit and someone in 3C scored a goal so loud you swore the bass from their TV made your candle flicker.

Alright. So it was personal now.

You stormed over to their door again, hands on your hips.. It wasn’t that late. You weren’t unreasonable. You believed in joy. In freedom. But right now? Rage was the only thing pumping through your system.

You shuffled down the hall with your bunny slippers slapping against the floor, hair in a claw clip that was giving up. You looked deranged. And for the first time, you were fine with that. You banged on their door.

The door cracked open a second later, revealing Jake blinking like a deer in headlights. His hair was messy. He looked mildly afraid.

“Were… we being loud again?”

You stared at him, deadpan. “Ya think?”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, okay. I’m so sorry. It’s Sunghoon. He keeps saying it’s not that loud and we were mid-tournament and—”

“Tell Sunghoon that his ego’s not the only thing echoing through these walls,” you snapped, arms crossed. “Some of us are trying to study.”

Behind Jake, you heard a familiar scoff followed by a smug voice yelling, “God, she’s so annoying. We were literally whispering.”

You leaned to the side, locking eyes with the third boy slouched on the couch, controller in hand, feet on the coffee table like the world owed him something. He didn’t even pause the game this time.

You didn’t know what it was about his stupidly symmetrical face but your blood boiled.

“Tell this Sunghoon guy…his whispering sounds like a screeching cat,” you said flatly, before spinning on your heel and marching back toward your door when you heard his aggravating voice.

“Tell her she’s overreacting over a couple of friends simply trying to have fun,” Sunghoon fired back from the couch, not even raising his voice.

You turned your head just enough to glare over your shoulder. “Well, tell him, his shirt doesn’t match his fucking pants.”

Jake looked helpless, standing between you both like a middle child caught in a divorce.

And then, with that same bored tone, Sunghoon called out again, “Well, tell her… those slippers are the best thing she’s worn all week.”

You stopped.

Jake sucked in a breath.

You slowly turned, eyes narrowing. “Tell him he wouldn’t know good fashion if it came with a user manual and punched him in his freaking face.”

Sunghoon finally glanced away from the TV, meeting your eyes for the first time that night. His lips curved into the most irritating half-smile you’d ever seen.

“Tell her–”

Jake stepped in between again, hands raised. “Okay! Okay. We’re gonna turn the volume down. Like, way down. Like you can’t even hear us tiptoe. Right, Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon leaned back against the couch and shrugged. “Whatever. I’m not the one annoying my neighbors at 9pm on a Friday night. Get some friends.”

You slammed your door shut.

War was back on.

The next morning, your plan was simple. A little petty, sure, but necessary.

You stood outside their door in your pyjamas, holding a fresh pack of neon yellow Post-its since your previous ones were used up by the ongoing Post-It war.The hallway was empty. Your bunny slippers made no sound as you padded up to 3C and stuck the first one of the week dead-centre on the door.

“Dear 3C, just a gentle reminder that FIFA will not feed you, clothe you, or give you money. Kindly shut up. PLEASE. Warmest regards, 3B.”

You smiled to yourself and floated back to your apartment.

That night? For the first time…? Silence. Beautiful, blissful silence. You actually managed to revise two chapters and fall asleep before midnight. You woke up in the morning feeling like a changed woman.

But then you opened your front door.

There, taped neatly to your door, was a blue sticky note with surprisingly neat handwriting.

“Dear 3B, you sound like you narrate your life out loud. – 3C.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Narrate your life out loud?” you muttered. “That’s literally called thinking.”

You marched back into your apartment, flung open your stationery drawer.

“Dear 3C, apologies if my internal monologue disrupted your daily FIFA championship. I only talk to myself because your volume settings make it impossible to hear my own thoughts. With all due respect (and ear damage), 3B."

That afternoon, Jay knocked on your door. You hesitated, then opened it a crack. He was holding a bag of convenience store pancakes in one hand.

“Peace offering,” he said. “Also, I think your notes are hilarious. Jake’s been collecting them. I think he’s making a scrapbook.”

You blinked. “Is this a joke or something?”

Jay shrugged, leaning casually against the doorframe. “No! Honestly, it’s kinda refreshing.”

Jake popped his head in from behind, grinning. “Also, your handwriting’s really neat.”

You opened the door a little wider, cautious then shrugged. “You want some… uh… spaghetti? I made it this morning.”

“Spaghetti?” Jay tilted his head.

You nodded. “Yeah. I usually experiment with food. I’m…uh…in culinary school.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “Wait, so you’re like… a chef?”

“Trying to be.,” you said with a shrug, suddenly a little self-conscious.

They exchanged a quick look before barging in like you'd personally handed them invites at the door.

“That’s so cool,” Jake said, practically bouncing as he flopped onto your beanbag. “I burnt instant noodles last week. Twice.”

Jay wandered deeper into your living room, his gaze landing on the dusty old guitar leaning against your bookshelf. “Dude, check it out! She plays the guitar.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, awkward. “It’s just for fun. I’m not that good.”

“I’m sure you’re great,” Jake said, already chewing through a mouthful of spaghetti he’d somehow found, and served himself in a bowl you didn’t remember offering.

You blinked at him. “Did you just—?”

“Plate was right there,” he said through a mouthful. “I took it as a sign.”

Jay nodded solemnly. “She feeds us and plays guitar. She’s better than Mrs. Kim already.”

You sighed and closed the door behind them. “I’m starting to think Mrs. Kim left because of the three of you.”

In between bites, Jake nodded without hesitation. “I think so too.”

“We can be loud,” Jay added, helping himself to another serving.

“Have you thought of… not being loud?”

“We do,” Jay said. “But then we get loud again.”

You rolled your eyes. “Guys, some of us have school and—”

“We have school too,” Jake chimed in, mouth full.

“Okay… some of us care about sleep.”

Jay perked up. “That’s why we got you this.”

He dug into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a tiny box, dropping it into your hands.

You squinted at it. “What’s this?”

“They’re sleep buds,” he said proudly. “They go in your ears and play white noise and, like… ocean sounds or something. Blocks everything out. Even us.”

You stared at the box, then at them.

“Instead of compromising, you got me gear?”

Jake grinned. “Yeah. We like you. We want you to be able to sleep… through us.”

Jay gave you a thumbs-up. “It’s called adaptation.”

You looked down at the sleep buds in your hands and then back up at the two of them absolutely inhaling your spaghetti like they hadn’t eaten in weeks.

You didn’t know whether to kick them out or thank them.

So you just sighed, defeated. “You guys are the weirdest neighbours I’ve ever had.”

Jake beamed. “Aww. You’re the weirdest too.”

And somehow… the next day… they were back.

You opened the door mid-knock, confused, only to find Jay grinning at you.

“What’s for lunch today, boss?” he asked, already halfway through the doorway.

You blinked. “How’d you know I made something?”

“We could smell it,” Jake said, stepping in right behind him, holding up a comically large spoon. “Smells so good. Brought my big spoon today. Came prepared.”

“Uh… I made chowder?”

Jake’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god, I love chowder.”

Jay had already plopped onto the floor cushion, flipping through your Spotify like he owned your iPad. “What kind? Clam? Corn? Pumpkin? Wait… do people put pumpkin in chowder?”

You stared at them, ladle in hand.

“Corn,” you muttered, shuffling back into the kitchen.

Then the day after that… they came again. At this point, it felt less like a surprise and more like a recurring appointment.

“No fucking way. Kimchi stew? This shit is so good!. Jay, you need to try the beef. It’s so soft. How— how’d you get it so soft? Is this like one of those expensive beef? Wakoo?”

“It’s Wagyu, Jake.” You corrected.

“Wagyu~” He sang.

Jay, already mid-bite, nodded with a full mouth. “Can I havefth thefth reshepee?”

You wiped your hands on a dish towel, leaning against the counter with one brow raised. “Do you guys ever eat in your own apartment?”

Jake didn’t miss a beat. “Not when you cook like this.”

Jay pointed his chopsticks at you like he was making a closing argument in court. “This is technically your fault. You fed us once. That’s basically a binding contract. We’re best friends now. Aren’t we, Jake?”

Jake nodded, mouth full. “Mhmff. Whatever he said.”

You sighed, setting your elbow on the table and dropping your chin into your hand. “If you’re gonna keep doing this, at least wash the dishes after.”

Jake saluted you with his spoon like you were the captain of a very tiny, soup-based army. “Yes, chef.”

You looked at the two of them, one already on his third helping, the other stealing more beef straight from the pot, and shook your head.

This wasn’t how your independent, put-together, college life was supposed to go. You were meant to be focused. The mysterious girl on the third floor who only ever came out for groceries and exams.

But maybe… with the two of them barging in uninvited, eating like they hadn’t seen food in years, and treating your living room like it was theirs…

Maybe you wouldn’t feel so lonely after all.

It was 9 p.m. Strangely quiet.

Usually, by now, there’d be at least one goal celebration shaking the walls or someone shouting about a missed penalty. But tonight? Nothing. You didn’t let it bother you. You took it as a win.

The balcony door slid open with a soft scrape. You stepped out into the cool night, cradling your little scissors and spray bottle like sacred tools. Your succulents were arranged in a neat line. A few leaves had started to curl. You knelt down, snipping the dead ends carefully.

You should’ve felt peaceful.

But tonight, something tugged at your chest.

You missed Jungwon. You missed your mom’s mismatched cutlery and the way your dad always forgot he’d already asked about your grades. Maybe even your pet fish, the one that never did much except float around looking confused.

Jay and Jake were friendly, sure. But they weren’t yours. They weren’t part of your before. They didn’t know the town you came from or the versions of you that existed before now.

And even though you thought you’d settled in... even though you were coping...you were lonely.

Without meaning to, you started speaking out loud — just like you always did.

“It’s fine. You’ll do better tomorrow. Tomorrow you won’t feel as lonely,” you said softly as you misted the leaves. “You’ll be stronger. You’re gonna get used to this. You can do it.”

But the lie caught in your throat.

Because you were crying already.

You wiped your cheek with the sleeve of your hoodie, frustrated, betrayed by your own body. You reached for your phone without thinking and hit the contact you swore you wouldn’t keep calling every time you got overwhelmed.

Jungwon answered on the first ring.

“What’s up?” he asked, casual as ever.

“Won…” you breathed out.

There was a pause. Then: “Are you crying?”

“No?”

“I can hear you sniffling, you shit.”

“It’s just—” your voice cracked. “It’s hard. I’m alone all the time. I’ve got no friends. I’ve got no one to talk to. I’m alone, Won.”

“I know,” he said gently. “I know…”

There was a pause. You could hear him shifting in bed, his voice soft and serious now. “But think about it this way, okay? You’re barely in your first month. You’re gonna get used to it. You’re gonna find people. You’re gonna build something here. It just takes time.”

You bit your lip. “You’ll visit if you can, right?”

“I’ll visit,” he promised. “Even if it takes two bloody hours.”

“But you hate traveling.”

“For you, I’d suffer.”

You sniffled. “You’re just saying that so I’ll hang up.”

“You’re right because I’m exhausted from basketball. But also… I love you.”

“Fine,” you mumbled. “I love you too.”

“Chin up. You’re talented and you deserve to be there. You can do this. We’re all counting on you.”

“I know.” You exhaled slowly. “Goodnight, Wonnie.”

“Night.”

You ended the call and sat in silence for a moment, letting the cool night air settle on your skin. The tears had stopped. Your hands still smelled like mint and basil and the faint sweetness of the spray bottle. You stared at your succulents, wondering if they ever got lonely too.

Unbeknownst to you, just a few feet away, out on the connected balcony, hidden by the divider, someone had heard everything.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He’d stepped out earlier, just needing air, needing quiet, needing to be somewhere still for once. And then he’d heard your voice. The words that were not meant for anyone else.

And for the first time, Sunghoon didn’t roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment.

He just stood there in the dark, one hand gripping the railing, heart a little heavier than before.

He understood more than you thought.

And somewhere between your tears and Jungwon’s voice, he changed his mind about you.

The next few days, there was absolute silence. Maybe the food had finally worked some psychological warfare on Jay and Jake. Maybe it was their way of returning the favour. Either way, you weren’t about to question it.

You were grateful, to say the least.

Because for the past week, you’d been moping around your apartment. Living alone and striking out as an “independent bachelorette” sounded empowering in theory, but in practice? Maybe you weren’t one of those girlies after all…y’know the ones on Instagram who made solitude look like a season of self-discovery instead of a series of breakdowns.

It was Saturday. You’d spent the entire morning in bed watching a Netflix documentary about some guy swindling people on Tinder, surrounded by crumpled tissue and scented candle smoke that had long turned suffocating. You were still in yesterday’s hoodie, blanket tangled around your legs.

Three knocks echoed at the door.

You lifted your head from the pillow with a groan, barely alive. The sound came again.

Dragging yourself across the living room, you cracked the door open just a sliver, just wide enough to peek through but not enough to reveal the disaster that was your face, your hair, or your pride.

“Uh.” The voice was hesitant. Familiar.

You squinted.

Sunghoon.

You blinked. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice hoarse from crying and a full night of narrating your own spiral.

“There was a mix-up with the mail,” he said, holding up a small stack of envelopes.

“Oh.” You extended your arm awkwardly through the tiny gap in the door and grabbed the letters. “Thanks.”

There was a pause, “I can see your puffy eyes through the gap.”

You scoffed, immediately pulling the door closer. “You just have to be a smartass about everything, don’t you?”

He shrugged, completely unbothered, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Still standing there.

“…Are Jake and Jay home?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

His expression twitched, almost amused. “Why? Trying to steal my best friends again or—”

“No,” you deadpanned. “I was just wondering. It’s been… quiet this whole week.”

“They went home to visit their families.”

Oh. Right. Come to think of it, maybe that explained why everything felt extra heavy lately. It was the time of year people usually went home. People surrounded themselves with comfort and familiarity. And here you were, stuck in the city because the train ticket home was just slightly out of budget.

“You didn’t go?” you asked softly.

“Can’t,” he shrugged.

“Oh.”

There was a beat of silence. Then he tilted his head.

“Well,” Sunghoon said slowly, “if you ever need someone to emotionally rejuvenate you by pointing out your hair looks like a rat’s nest, you know where to find me.”

The words came with the usual venom but the message behind them landed differently.

You stared at him through the gap in the door. You couldn’t tell if he was trying to be funny, or… sincere, in his own weird, backhanded way. It was strange. You’d only had three full conversations with the guy. And every single one ended in a WWE tournament.

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Are you… being nice to me?”

He clicked his tongue. “Don’t ruin it.”

And with that, he turned and walked back.

You finally got up.

There was no movie-worthy breakthrough moment. Just the dull ache in your head from crying too much and the feeling that if you shed one more tear, your eyeballs might actually eject themselves from their sockets. So you moved. You stripped your bed, tossed the mountain of tissues into a trash bag, sprayed half a bottle of disinfectant in the air, and opened every window.

Your apartment looked like it had survived an apocalypse, which, to be fair, was accurate. But you scrubbed it back to life.

By the time you were in the kitchen, your eyes were still a little swollen, but you’d pressed them with cool spoons and a sad little compress until you could see straight again. Kind of.

You pulled out ingredients from your fridge one by one, lining them up like you were preparing for war. Slicing, boiling, julienning, stir-frying. The sound of the pan crackling beneath the glass noodles filled the silence of your apartment. It smelled exactly like it did when your mom used to make it.

You plated it in a wide, shallow bowl. It was delicious. Of course it was. You took pride in it. You always had. Jungwon used to tease you, calling your hands “blessed by Gordon Ramsay” like everything you touched turned into comfort food. You’d swat his arm, trying not to smile as he reached for second helpings before you’d even sat down.

You missed him. You missed your family. You missed not having to eat alone on a day like this.

Your eyes drifted to the door.

Would it be stupid? To bring food to Sunghoon? You’d never really done anything kind for him. Most of your interactions were lined with sarcasm and insults. And yet… that one line of his kept replaying in your head, “If you ever need someone to emotionally rejuvenate you by pointing out your hair looks like a rat’s nest, you know where to find me.”

So maybe…maybe he meant it. Or maybe you were just desperate for company and your noodles were starting to get cold.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you packed the noodles into a clean container, wrapped a rubber band around it, and found yourself standing in front of 3C. Your feet had walked you here without permission. Your hand hovered in the air, ready to knock, but now… you hesitated. You weren’t here to complain. You weren’t here to yell. And that made it harder.

And just before your knuckles could land on the door, it swung open.

Sunghoon stood in front of you, coat already on, scarf looped lazily around his neck. There was a little shine to his hair like he’d styled it, and he looked surprised, mildly confused to find you on his doorstep without any anger evident in your eyes.

“What?” he said, voice dry.

You blinked, staring at him. You’d never really looked at him properly before. Not when he was this put-together. The gel in his hair, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his scarf sat slightly off-center like he’d thrown it on in a rush. You knew he was attractive. You weren’t blind. But seeing him now?

Sunghoon was actually… pretty handsome.

“I—uh—” you stammered.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Spit it out.”

“I—uh—I made some… stir-fried glass noodles,” you said, stumbling over every syllable. “And I know how much it sucks being alone on a day like this, so I thought… maybe it’d bring you some kind of familiarity. From home, or something.”

You didn’t let yourself overthink it. You shoved the container into his hands, heart pounding.

“Bye,” you mumbled, before immediately turning around and marching back to your apartment like you’d just robbed a bank. The door clicked shut behind you.

You pressed your back to it, eyes wide.

Shit.

Was Sunghoon actually hot?

Sunghoon stood in the hallway, unmoving. The container in his hands was warm and he stared down at it for a couple of seconds longer than he probably should’ve.

Jake and Jay had been raving about your cooking for weeks. At first, he thought they were exaggerating. How good could someone’s food be that it made two of the loudest people he knew voluntarily whisper through a FIFA match?

But he’d seen it with his own eyes, Jake silently fist-pumping the air, mouthing “LET’S FUCKING GO” after a goal, and Jay barely reacting as he scored. They even created a rule: first one to speak puts a dollar in the Silence Jar. A literal jar. With money.

Sunghoon didn’t get it.

And he didn’t particularly care to. Not then.

But now, standing in the hallway in his coat and scarf, staring at the gift you shoved into his hands with flushed cheeks, something felt different.

He had been on his way out, actually. There was a bar nearby, nothing special, just a dim-lit spot with quiet music and decent food where no one bothered him. He usually went there whenever Jay and Jake went back home, like they did this time every year. It wasn’t that he didn’t have family—he did. It just wasn’t… warm. They were always busy. Always somewhere else, even when they were in the same room.

He peeled off his scarf, feet dragging a little as he headed back into the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. He set the container on the kitchen counter, grabbed a pair of chopsticks from the drawer, and opened the lid.

Steam wafted up instantly, sesame oil, soy sauce, garlic, something subtly sweet he couldn’t name. The noodles glistened. They looked homemade. No, they felt homemade.

He picked up a strand and gave it a tentative taste.

His eyes widened before he could even help it.

It was good. Like stupid good. Like how the hell is this girl not running her own restaurant kind of good. Better than anything he would’ve paid for at that bar tonight.

He stood there in silence, chopsticks hovering mid-air, thinking back.

He wasn’t proud of how he’d treated you. Three encounters, three arguments. He remembered each one too clearly. The snark in his voice. The way your expression hardened. The notes on the door.

But it wasn’t really about you.

He hated being called out. Hated being the problem. Maybe it was ego, or maybe it was the way he’d always felt like he had to be put-together or to say the least…controlled. Your presence threw him off. You were loud in a way that was sincere. You didn’t filter your emotions. You wore your annoyance on your sleeve and your feelings on your face.

It irritated him. It also… made him feel something.

And then there was that night on the balcony.

He hadn’t meant to listen. But when he heard your voice cracking through the divider, talking to someone…maybe it was your boyfriend? Your best friend? Whoever it was about how lonely you were, it hit him harder than it should’ve.

Because he got it.

He felt it too.

Being alone in a crowd. Having people around but never really with you. That weight in your chest that didn’t come from sadness exactly…just the absence of warmth.

Sunghoon felt it more often than he cared to admit. He loved Jake and Jay, loved them to pieces. They were the kind of people who filled a room with noise and an energy he couldn’t really place and who made him laugh even when he didn’t want to.

He wanted something more. Something real.

Someone who just… saw him.

He sat at his kitchen counter, staring at the container of glass noodles still warm with steam curling from the lid. He wasn’t usually impulsive. He didn’t do gestures. But maybe tonight called for something a little uncharacteristic.

He stood and reached up, opening the top cupboard where Jake and Jay kept what they called their “emergency date plates.”. The kind of plates you used to impress someone. They only ever brought them out when trying to convince girls they were not, in fact, living in a borderline condemned apartment flat.

He grabbed two.

And then, before he could second guess it, he walked out into the hallway and knocked.

Your door creaked open a few seconds later.

You blinked at him, confused. “What?”

It almost felt like deja vu. Except now, he was you…awkward at the door.

And then it hit him.

He looked at you…like, really looked at you, and for the first time, he realised he’d never actually seen you before.

You were wearing a soft pink sleeveless dress, the fabric loose and falling just above your knees, cinched slightly at the waist. Your hair was tied into a side braid, fringe swept slightly to the side, with a few delicate strands left loose to frame your face. You looked like you belonged in a pastel painting.

Shit.

Were you actually—pretty?

Nope. Nope. Stop that. Sunghoon blinked hard, trying to erase the thought.

Damn it.

You probably had a boyfriend. Someone smart and warm and emotionally available who FaceTimed you every night and wrote you good morning texts. Someone who missed you from back home.

And besides…someone who could cook like you? You could probably bag Jake and Jay at the same time in under a minute if you wanted. Not that you would. But still.

He cleared his throat.

“I, uh…” He held up the plates slightly. “I thought maybe… you could join me?”

He wasn’t good at this. But his voice was steady.

“Only if you want to,” he added, quickly. “I just figured. Y’know. Glass noodles taste better on… plates that aren’t plastic.”

His eyes met yours.

He was trying.

And this time, it was your turn to blink in disbelief.

Sunghoon had returned with the container of glass noodles, now a little colder, a little stickier, but still giving off the faint aroma of sesame oil and soy sauce. You’d reheated it and plated it up, slightly embarrassed that the presentation wasn’t what it had been fresh off the stove, but he didn’t seem to care. Or maybe he did, but you couldn’t tell, because for the first five minutes, you didn’t look at each other.

The clink of chopsticks, the occasional scrape of ceramic, and your ceiling fan. It was awkward. You wondered why he even came. Why he asked in the first place, if he was just going to eat in silence.

“So,” you said.

“So,” he said.

You paused.

“You first.”

“No, you—”

“Okay, I’ll go first,” he said, cutting himself off. He cleared his throat and set his chopsticks down. “I—uh—I just wanted to say thanks. For the meal.”

You blinked. “Okay.” You nodded slowly. “You’re… shockingly formal when you’re not pissed.”

“I—” Sunghoon let out a breath and leaned back a little in the chair. “I was never pissed.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, nodding, eyes narrowed. “Sure.”

“I was annoyed, sure. Who likes being called out?”

“I wasn’t trying to call you out,” you said, tilting your head. “But put yourself in my shoes. I have to wake up at stupid o’clock to learn how to make a soufflé or whatever, and meanwhile, I’m treated to surround sound yelling and the occasional ceiling vibration.”

He gave a small shrug. “Well, we haven’t done it in a while.”

“And I’m grateful,” you replied, lips twitching. “Truly.”

“We got a silence jar and everything,” he muttered, almost like he didn’t want to admit it.

Your eyebrows shot up. “A silence jar?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Jay implemented it. He said if we keep it up, we’ll have enough for extra toppings on our next pizza night.”

You burst into laughter, the sound surprising even yourself. It came out light and real, and you covered your mouth halfway through. “That’s… honestly? A decent plan.”

“It can be,” he said with a grin starting to pull at the corner of his mouth. “Until everyone starts trying to play FIFA like it’s an ASMR video.”

“You guys actually whisper?” you asked, incredulous.

“Well, yeah. You told us to.”

“I didn’t think you would listen,” you said, pointing your chopsticks at him.

Sunghoon shrugged again, his eyes dropping to the plate in front of him. “Well… they changed my mind, so.”

He didn’t say what he was really thinking.

That it wasn’t Jake or Jay who changed his mind. It was that night. The way your voice had carried through the gap in the balcony, fragile and cracking. The way you’d said I’m alone, Won like it was something that had been sitting inside you for too long, waiting to spill. He’d realised then maybe he wasn’t just an annoying neighbour to you. Maybe he was part of the problem. Maybe he’d been making things harder for someone who was already trying to hold it all together.

“So…” he said quietly, eyes on his plate, “why are you alone during the holidays anyway?”

“Couldn’t afford a train ticket,” you said eventually. “I mean—I could have, technically. But that’d mean I wouldn’t have enough money left to buy ingredients for my assignments the next few weeks.”

Sunghoon winced. “Oof. That’s rough. Must suck.”

You gave a little shrug. “Yeah. It’s fine though.”

He knew it wasn’t.

There was a pause. He glanced sideways at you.

“If you ever… feel like you need someone to talk to,” he started, voice casual, “you could just knock. I have FIFA.”

You snorted. “Oh, like I’d willingly join that mess.”

“It’s actually really fun.”

“How fun can flinging a ball across a screen with your thumbs be?”

“It is!” he defended, turning fully toward you.

You raised a brow. “I tried once with my friend and it was so boring.”

“That’s ‘cause you weren’t playing it right,” he insisted, already standing up. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

“I’m not playing FIFA with you.”

“Come onnn,” he whined, grabbing your wrist and tugging you lightly toward his door.

“God, this is gonna be so stupid,” you muttered, dragging your feet even as you followed him out.

Inside his apartment, the lights were warm, the couch sunken in like it had been through a war. You sat reluctantly, tucking your knees up as he handed you the controller.

“Alright,” he said, sliding in beside you. “This is you—Team Two. All you have to do is use the left joystick to move, the right one to look around. This button to pass, this one to shoot.”

You blinked. “So many buttons.”

“It’s easy! Just follow what I say.”

“Okay… so now I just—?” You pressed a button and immediately kicked the ball out of bounds.

“No, no—move left. Left.”

“I am moving left!”

He glanced over. Your tongue was sticking out slightly in concentration, eyes squinted, brows furrowed. He chuckled before he could stop himself, quickly looking away.

Then you screamed, “I DID IT! DID I DO IT?!”

He turned back just in time to see you score.

Sunghoon yelled, jumping up. “Yeah! That was it!”

You stared at the screen, jaw dropping. “Holy shit. I’m amazing.”

He looked at you again, this time longer. Your eyes were glowing, still locked on the TV. Your fingers tapped at the buttons like you already got it down. You bit your lip when you were focused, tongue sticking out just slightly when you were thinking.

And you were cute. So fucking cute.

The match picked up pace. Suddenly it was 2–2, and both of you were leaning in like your lives depended on it. You were yelling at the controller. He was shouting advice. At one point, your knees knocked, but neither of you noticed. The room was loud, just your voices and the music from the game and the way your laughter filled every corner of his flat.

Then it happened.

You scored.

You screamed, controller tossed onto the couch, and before Sunghoon could register what was happening, your arms were around his neck, squeezing him tight as you jumped slightly in place.

“I WON! DID YOU SEE THAT?!”

He froze. Your cheek brushed his jaw, your warmth right up against him. His hands hovered midair like he didn’t know whether to hold you back or not.

And then you let go, plopped back onto the couch, and grabbed the controller again like nothing had happened.

Sunghoon didn’t move.

For the first time in what felt like forever, his heartbeat stuttered. Sped up like it had been woken from a long, indifferent sleep.

He sat there, silent, staring at you as you shouted at your pixelated team.

And all he could think was well that…he hadn’t planned on crushing on the new girl based on one single positive interaction.

God, he was so screwed.

The next few days passed in a blur of almost-conversations.

You and Sunghoon didn’t talk much. Not like that night. Just a few polite waves across the hallway, a quiet “hey” if you caught the elevator at the same time. Respectful nods. The occasional awkward glance if your eyes met for too long.

And then Jake and Jay came back.

And of course, Jake being Jake, invited himself into your apartment before you could even say no.

“I missed your cooking while I was gone,” he sighed dramatically, sinking into the dining chair like he’d returned from war.

“Well, today’s your lucky day,” you said, flipping through your assignment folder and squinting at the week’s task. “Because for today’s assignment, I’m supposed to…” you paused. “Make a really mean chicken pot pie.”

Jake’s eyes lit up. He clapped his hands, nearly tipping his chair over. “CHICKEN POT PIE?!”

Before you could even blink, he leapt up, yanked your door open, and sprinted into the hallway.

“JAY! IT’S CHICKEN POT PIE!” he yelled like it was a fire drill.

From across the hall, Jay’s voice rang out. “WHAT?! NO WAY!”

And then—another voice joined them.

A quieter one.

“Chicken pot pie?”

You didn’t even have time to react before you were suddenly hosting three grown men in your kitchen, all leaning over your counter.

“Guys,” you said, elbow-deep in flour. “I can’t focus if you’re all staring at me like that.”

“We’re just excited,” Jake grinned, chin in his hands.

“Well don’t be. I’ve never made this before. It might taste like ass.”

“Your hands are basically blessed by Gordon Ramsay,” Jay declared, grabbing a slice of carrot from the cutting board. “It’s impossible for it to taste like ass.”

You laughed, the sound soft and unexpected even to yourself. “Jungwon used to tell me that all the time.”

“Oh he did?” Jay echoed, voice teasing.

Sunghoon stood a few steps back from the others, arms crossed loosely, leaning against your fridge. He hadn’t said much since stepping into your place, but now he watched the three of you.

The way you smiled when Jay made a joke. The way Jake knew where you kept your mixing bowls. The way your eyes sparkled, just slightly, when you laughed about something from home. The way they got it. The way they knew you.

And the way he didn’t.

Sunghoon couldn’t explain it but it made his stomach twist. Tight and strange and uncomfortable.

And then he heard it again.

Jungwon.

Who the hell was Jungwon?

His name sounded too casual. Too affectionate. The kind of name you didn’t just drop without meaning.

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He just looked down at your countertop, at the flour dusting your hands and the delicate way your fingers shaped the crust, and all he could think was—

Why the fuck did he care so much?

You moved around your kitchen with the kind of ease that made it impossible not to watch. Sunghoon’s eyes were locked on you, the way your hair swayed behind your back as you leaned forward to stir something in the pot, the way your sleeves were pushed up.

His heart pounded harder than it should’ve. He tried to brush it off. Maybe he was just hungry. Maybe it was just the smell of garlic and butter making him lightheaded. That had to be it, right?

Except no.

He hadn’t planned on feeling like this today. Not when he woke up. Not when he brushed his teeth and went on his phone and told himself he’d stay in his apartment. He hadn’t even planned on coming over. And that night the two of you shared noodles? He’d chalked it up to vulnerability. Nighttime feelings. Nothing serious.

But now it was noon. He was awake. Sober. And you were still somehow making his chest tighten just by existing within ten feet of him.

God. He hated having a crush.

He didn’t even realise how lost he looked until Jake spoke up from the side, breaking the spell.

“So, is Jungwon finally coming?”

This guy again.

Sunghoon’s head whipped toward Jake so fast it might’ve snapped his neck.

You perked up at the mention, a smile blooming across your face without even trying. “Yeah! He’s coming in two weeks! I actually told him about you guys. He’s kinda excited to meet you.”

That smile. It wasn’t fake. It wasn’t forced. You looked like someone who meant it. Someone who missed this guy. Someone who talked to him often.

Sunghoon clenched his jaw and looked away, grabbing a water bottle off your counter just to do something with his hands. He twisted the cap a little too hard.

He didn’t know who the hell Jungwon was.

But he already didn’t like him.

“He’s coming over?” Jay asked, his mouth still half-full of pie filling.

“Yeah,” you said casually, brushing a stray hair behind your ear as you peeked into the oven. “He’s staying at my place for the week he’s here.”

Staying at your place?

Sunghoon blinked.

He looked around your apartment, eyes scanning every corner like they were going to magically reveal a hidden guest room. But there wasn’t one. You lived in a studio. Everything was in one space. Your bed, your desk, your kitchen, your couch. Except… there wasn’t even a real couch. Just a throw-covered loveseat that barely seated two.

No air mattress in sight. No hidden folding cot. No suspicious lumpy bags that might hold a spare futon.

Just one bed.

His chest tightened.

Where the hell was Jungwon gonna sleep? With you?

He picked at the label on his water bottle, teeth grinding quietly as he stared down at the floor, like it held answers. It didn’t.

He wasn’t even involved with you. This shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t bother him.

But it did. In the most uncomfortable, teeth-clenching, mind-racing kind of way.

You stood in front of the three boys, arms crossed, heart racing slightly under your apron. The chicken pot pie sat on the table…golden brown crust, just the right amount of bubbling over on the sides, the smell of thyme and butter and garlic filling your apartment.

Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon each took a spoonful at the same time like they’d rehearsed it. You watched them, nervous, scanning their faces.

One by one, their expressions lit up. Jake’s eyes widened, Jay let out a satisfied groan. Well… except Sunghoon. Of course.

He stayed still. Always unreadable. But you caught it. The tiny pause, the way his brows lifted just a fraction. He liked it. He just didn’t show it like the others.

“So—” Jake started.

“Good,” Jay finished, already reaching for more.

Your eyes flicked to Sunghoon. Somehow, his opinion was the one you were waiting on. The one you needed.

“So?” you asked, staring at him.

He blinked. “What?”

“How is it?”

“It’s good,” he said, nodding once, tone flat as ever.

Your smile dropped. You frowned. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“What? I just said it’s good.”

“No, you said ‘good’ and then frowned and put your spoon down. Usually it’s ‘It’s good,’ then a second bite. Right, boys?”

Jake nodded enthusiastically, chicken still in his mouth. “She’s right.”

“Totally right,” Jay added, already helping himself to more.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, leaning back slightly. “You’re all being dramatic.”

You scoffed, insulted. “I guess you don’t want seconds then. Tch.”

You clicked your tongue and turned on your heel, storming off toward the kitchen, grumbling under your breath. Your apron fluttered behind you as you moved, and you didn’t look back.

Sunghoon watched your little pout, the way your shoulders stiffened, how you exaggerated every step. He didn’t know why, but he liked your reaction. No, he loved it. He found it ridiculously cute. Too cute, actually. That slight wrinkle in your forehead. The way your voice got higher when you were mad. The tiny stomp in your step.

The moment your back turned, his lips twitched upward.

When lunch ended and the three of them stood by your front door, Jake and Jay turned to hug you dramatically.

“Never move out,” Jake said into your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re just saying that because you get free food.”

“And precisely why we don’t want you to move out,” Jay replied, squeezing you once more before the two of them shuffled out, bickering as they made their way into their apartment across the hall.

Sunghoon lingered. Just behind you.

You turned, raising a brow. “Aren’t you leaving?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” He stepped back slowly, hands in his pockets, gaze flicking to the floor before settling back on you. Then he paused. Like he wasn’t sure if he should say what he was about to say.

“The chicken pot pie was good. I think…” he exhaled, voice quieter, “I think it was one of the best things I’ve ever had.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“It reminded me of home,” he added, eyes still on you now, a little softer than usual. “Not in the way where it’s about the taste or anything… it’s just… you cook like home. If that makes any sense.”

You hadn’t expected that.

Your cheeks flushed immediately. You turned away before he could see it, pretending to fiddle with a dish on the counter, fingers uselessly adjusting an already-clean plate.

“Thank you,” you murmured, voice low, almost shy.

He lingered for a second longer like he wanted to say more. Then he gave a quiet nod and walked out the door.

It was raining.

It was only 4 p.m., but the sky had turned an eerie charcoal grey, clouds rolling thick above the city. Thunder cracked so loud you felt it in your chest, and the wind howled between the buildings, slamming against your windows.

You hated this.

You hated how much you still feared storms even at your age. How useless independence felt when you were stuffing tissues in your ears and jamming earmuffs over your head like you were five again. You turned on every single light in your apartment, lamps, fairy lights, even your microwave light and cocooned yourself under your thickest blanket, barely breathing, eyes wide.

Then the whole building shuddered.

The lights flickered.

And then everything went dark.

You screamed.

Your apartment disappeared into a blanket of pitch black, shadows curling up the walls like ink. Your heart pounded. You scrambled up from the couch, tearing off your earmuffs and patting the walls with shaky hands, trying to find a light switch like that would fix anything.

“Shit,” you whispered, voice trembling. “Shit shit shit.”

You fumbled for your phone. A message popped up from your landlord.

“The building is experiencing a temporary blackout due to the storm. Electricity should resume in an hour. Thank you for your patience.”

An hour? Alone? In this? In the dark? Absolutely fucking not.

You jumped at another violent crack of thunder and instantly rushed out into the hallway. Your blanket trailed behind you like a cape. You beelined for the only door you knew.

You knocked. The door swung open almost immediately.

“No time to explain but I’m shitting bricks here,” you said all at once.

It wasn’t Jake or Jay.

It was Sunghoon.

His brows raised. “The thunderstorm?”

You nodded frantically. “Are Jake or Jay here?”

“They’re asleep.” He glanced behind him, then back at you. “But I could… stay with you. If you want. Until it passes.”

You hesitated.

Then thunder cracked again, louder this time, right above your building.

You flinched. “Okay,” you breathed, defeated.

The two of you sat cross-legged on your couch, sharing a single candle as your only source of light. It flickered between you, casting long, warm shadows on the walls.

“Seems like you’re scared of the thunder,” he said gently.

“Well,” you sighed, voice tight. “I’ve been scared of it since I was younger. It just… gets to me.”

He nodded. “It’s okay.”

You noticed it then…the subtle tremble in his shoulders. He was shivering. From the cold, probably. Your heater wasn’t working without electricity, and the apartment was steadily turning into a fridge. You were wrapped up like a burrito, but he’d come in without anything but a hoodie.

Feeling guilty, you shifted toward him and lifted one side of your blanket.

“Uh…” he looked at you like he wasn’t sure if he was being pranked.

“Relax. I can see you shivering like a dog,” you muttered.

“Oh.” He blinked, then grabbed the other end of the blanket and scooted in beside you.

Now under the same blanket, his body heat pressed faintly against yours. You sat side by side, knees pulled to your chests.

And then, in a whisper, he said, “You know…”

You looked over at him, startled by the sudden softness in his voice.

“I know I’m not as close to you as Jay and Jake are,” he said, eyes trained on the candle, “but… you don’t always have to find them for help.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“I’m saying…” he sighed, eyes flicking up toward you, and then away again. “Never mind.”

“No, what? Just spit it out.”

He exhaled through his nose like it physically hurt to get the words out. “I’m just saying… you could ask me for help too.”

You stared at him, your eyes adjusting to the candlelight flickering between you.

“Oh,” you said softly.

There was a beat of silence. You weren’t really sure what to do with that. But you didn’t want to leave it hanging either.

“I’ll be sure to think of you the next time,” you mumbled, barely louder than the rain still pelting the windows outside.

You felt him nod beside you.

You turned your head slowly, resting your cheek against your knees, eyes drifting toward him. His face was tilted down, lashes long and dark as they blinked now and then, just slow enough for you to notice. His jaw had softened a little. He looked calm, in a way you weren’t used to seeing him.

“Would you rather have a million dollars,” you said suddenly, “or have no problems in the world?”

He blinked, confused for a second, then turned his head toward you. His chin was on his knees now too, and with the two of you curled up in the same blanket, inches apart, it felt almost like whispering under covers at a sleepover.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A good one,” you replied, lips twitching. “So answer it.”

He scoffed a little under his breath. “Uh… maybe no problems in the world?”

“Smart answer. Why?”

He paused, “I think people ruin themselves trying to solve problems that shouldn’t be theirs. If I had no problems, maybe I wouldn’t waste time worrying about all the stuff that doesn’t matter.”

You blinked at him. That was… not the answer you were expecting. It was a good one. Way too good, actually.

“Right,” you said softly, giving him a small nod.

He looked at you for a second longer before his eyes flicked down. “Your turn. Would you rather go back in time or go into the future?”

You puffed your cheeks out, thinking. “Hmm… that’s a toughie.”

Then your eyes widened, the way they always did when you had a lightbulb moment. “Go back in time!”

“Why’s that?”

“So maybe I’d really weigh the pros and cons of moving to a city where I know no one,” you said with a grin, but it faded slightly at the end.

Sunghoon stayed quiet.

“You must really feel alone,” he said.

You blinked, startled. “What?”

“I hear you talking about it sometimes. On your balcony. When you think no one’s listening. You talk about how moving here feels like a mistake.”

You looked away, embarrassed. “It’s not a mistake. I just… miss everything back home.”

“I get it,” he said after a second. “I was like you. Back when I was home, I wanted to leave so badly. Thought being somewhere else would fix everything. But now that I’m here… yeah, I have Jay and Jake, and they’re great, but sometimes I come back to the apartment and everything’s fine and normal and still—I just feel… empty. And I don’t even know why.”

You didn’t say anything for a long time.

You just watched him. His face had turned thoughtful, distant. His eyes unfocused, drifting somewhere past the flickering candle, past your walls, like he was staring right through the quiet that lived in his chest.

You mumbled, “Well, yeah. But… I also don’t regret it. Not one bit.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I mean—I’m here doing what I love. Not many people get to do that. And I made friends with three incredibly annoying people in this building.”

He turned toward you again, eyes narrowing playfully. “So we’re friends now?”

Your cheeks heated up instantly. You glanced away, pretending to roll your eyes. “Are we not?”

He let out a low chuckle, the kind that rumbled softly at the back of his throat. “I’m glad you think we are.”

“So,” you said, tilting your head, “does this mean you’ll finally be nice to me now? Or is that too much character development for one night?”

Sunghoon smirked, eyes flicking to you with a teasing glint. “You want nice? From me?”

“Yeah. Like a full sentence without sarcasm. I feel like that’s a reward I’ve earned by now.”

“You earned a participation medal at best.”

You laughed, nudging him with your knee. “Unbelievable.”

He was already looking at you again—closer this time.

“Hold on,” he said softly, “you have an eyelash on your cheek.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Before you could move, he leaned in.

His face hovered inches from yours as his thumb brushed gently against your cheek, his touch soft but sure. The pads of his fingers were warm. His eyes, now impossibly close, scanned your face with a kind of quiet focus you hadn’t felt from him before. You swallowed.

Neither of you moved.

Your gaze locked, and the space between you slowly disappeared…inch by inch, breath by breath. It wasn’t planned. It just… happened.

Then suddenly, his lips were on yours.

Then it deepened. His other hand pushed the blanket off his head, dropping behind your neck to pull you in, and your hands found their way to his thighs, then to the curve of his jaw. His lips parted just enough, and your pulse jumped as he moved against you.

His hands slid to your waist. He lifted you slightly and shifted you into his lap in one smooth motion. You were now straddling him, knees on either side of his thighs, and he didn’t stop kissing you, not even for a second.

The kiss grew stronger. He tilted his head, hand moving to your chin to pull you even closer, his mouth parting yours with a low inhale as his tongue brushed against yours.

Your hands moved back down, gripping at the soft cotton of his hoodie, when—

Click.

The lights flickered on.

You both froze.

Your faces were still inches apart.

You slowly pulled back, still on his lap. He blinked, eyes searching yours like he wasn’t sure what just happened. Like part of him wanted to keep going, and the other part… couldn’t believe you just kissed him like that.

You stared at each other, the silence heavy now.

His hands were still resting lightly on your waist. Yours were still fisted in the fabric of his hoodie. Both of you breathless.

“I need to go back home,” Sunghoon said suddenly, voice low but rushed. His eyes darted everywhere except at you.

You blinked. “Right. Of course!” you said quickly, nodding way too fast. “Yeah. No—totally.”

He shifted awkwardly underneath you, face flushing as he cleared his throat and muttered, “Probably… need a pillow or something.”

It took you a second.

Then you saw the way he was subtly covering his lap with the edge of the blanket.

“Oh.” Your voice came out small. You quickly scrambled off his lap, cheeks burning so hot they could’ve powered your apartment during the blackout.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, already halfway to your door.

And then, Sunghoon stormed out of your apartment.

It had been a couple of days since you last properly spoke to Sunghoon. Not for lack of trying. You had…more than once. But each time, he’d give you a quick nod, maybe a polite smile if you were lucky, before promptly power-walking away.

Maybe he just wasn’t feeling what you were feeling. Maybe that kiss was a fluke, something in the heat of the moment. Maybe your little new crush was painfully one-sided.

But you pushed it aside. You had bigger things to focus on.

Jungwon was coming today.

You’d spent the entire morning rearranging your apartment, cleaning it from top to bottom, fluffing cushions and spraying perfume not just on yourself but into the air like it could somehow mask how nervous you were. You even did your hair the way he liked it, soft curls and a side part.

And then, there he was.

The door swung open and your best friend stood in the hallway, suitcase in hand and a grin already on his face.

“WON!” you squealed, running up to him and leaping into his arms.

“Hello, idiot,” he said, his voice fond as he hugged you back, lifting you off the ground with ease.

The shout must’ve startled the boys in 3C, because right on cue, the door across the hall creaked open and out came Jake and Jay, both peeking out.

They spotted you clinging to Jungwon like a koala.

You beamed. “Guys! It’s him!”

“The famous Jungwon,” Jay said, nodding in approval as he stepped out.

“And you must be Jake and Jay,” Jungwon said smoothly, setting you down.

Then came the third.

Sunghoon.

He didn’t move from the doorway. Just stood there, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Jungwon turned to him, a friendly smile still on his lips, chuckling. “You must be Sunghoon, then.”

Sunghoon’s gaze narrowed slightly. “What’s so funny?”

Jungwon blinked, caught off guard. “Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat. “She just… told me you were like this.”

“Like what?” Sunghoon asked sharply, the scoff nearly audible in his tone.

Jungwon scratched the back of his neck. “Nothing. She just said you were cool,” he said with a shrug, throwing you a teasing look.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes.

You stood there, suddenly awkward, unsure what the hell had crawled up Sunghoon’s ass. The hostility was as thick as the tension in the air and you hadn’t done anything. Not really.

At least you didn’t think you had.

Just stood there, arms crossed, a stiff expression on his face while Jake and Jay welcomed Jungwon like he was already part of the group. Jungwon, ever the social butterfly, fit in easily, throwing a few jokes around, complimenting the apartment despite its questionable decor, and even teasing Jake about the ugly dinosaur pyjamas he was wearing in broad daylight.

But Sunghoon?

He was frowning the entire time.

You couldn’t figure it out. His jaw was tight, his responses were clipped, and every time Jungwon so much as glanced your way, you saw Sunghoon’s eye twitch.

You walked back to your apartment with Jungwon beside you, chatting excitedly about dinner plans and all the places he wanted to visit during his stay. But when you turned back, just for a second, you caught Sunghoon still watching. Still standing in the hallway.

His arms were still crossed.

And he didn’t look away.

Sunghoon stood there, arms folded across his chest like they were the only things keeping him together. He stared ahead blankly, jaw tight, doing everything in his power not to glare a hole through the wall. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling.

Sure, he knew he had a crush on you. He’d known since the chicken pot pie, probably. Or maybe since you wrapped that blanket around his shoulders. Or maybe long before that. But what he didn’t know was who the fuck Jungwon was, and why he was walking into your apartment.

“Dude,” Jake muttered, throwing him a sideways look. “You could’ve at least smiled.”

“I did,” Sunghoon growled, not bothering to hide his scowl.

Jay snorted. “That was barely a smile. You looked like you were in the middle of passing a kidney stone.”

“Why do I even have to be nice?” Sunghoon snapped. “I don’t know him.”

“Because your crush’s boyfriend just came into town,” Jake replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sunghoon's head snapped to him so fast you’d think he got whiplash. “Boyfriend?”

Jay raised a brow. “Not denying the crush though.”

Sunghoon ignored him. “Let me ask you again. Boyfriend?”

Jake shrugged. “I mean… yeah, I guess?”

“What the fuck do you mean you guess?” Sunghoon hissed, dragging a hand down his face. “He can’t be her boyfriend.”

“But he is,” Jay said with a shrug and an infuriatingly smug smile.

“No, he’s not. He can’t be. Because she and I…” he paused, realising too late what was about to fall out of his mouth. “…kissed. Three nights ago.”

Jake’s mouth dropped open. Jay blinked.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jake finally blurted.

“Nothing,” Sunghoon muttered quickly, suddenly desperate to eat his words.

“You can’t say nothing when you just said everything!” Jake shouted, grabbing Sunghoon’s shoulders and shaking him.

“Tell us right now!” Jay begged dramatically, gripping his own hair.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, flustered. “I—we—kissed. That’s it.”

Jay blinked. “You know we were kidding about the boyfriend thing, right?”

Jake grinned. “Jungwon’s just her best friend.”

“We just wanted to see if you’d admit you liked her,” Jay added, eyes sparkling with way too much joy. “Which you did.”

“No, I didn’t,” Sunghoon argued weakly. “I just said we kissed.”

“Okay, Mr Visceral Reaction every time we mention Jungwon,” Jake teased.

Jay smirked. “Say it. Say you like her.”

Sunghoon groaned, eyes shut tight as if the ceiling could swallow him whole. Then, finally—quietly, begrudgingly—

“Okay. So what if I like her?”

Jay and Jake immediately turned to each other with identical gasps, smacking each other’s arms excitedly.

“Oh my god, he admitted it,” Jay whispered dramatically.

Jake clutched his chest. “It’s happening.”

“You guys are disgusting,” Sunghoon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And if you keep acting like this, I’m never telling you anything again.”

“Okay, okay.” Jake raised both hands, trying to suppress a grin. “We’ll behave.”

“BUT I’M SO EXCITED,” Jay squealed.

Jake smacked him on the shoulder. “Starting now.”

Jay nodded solemnly, rubbing his arm. “Sorry. That one slipped.”

Sunghoon sighed and leaned against the counter, arms crossed again. “I started liking her last month… when you guys went back home for the week. She cooked me stir-fried noodles, and we ate together. Played FIFA. I don’t know. I just… developed a crush on her.”

“That’s so cute,” Jay and Jake said in unison, stars in their eyes.

“Seriously, can the two of you act normal for like three minutes?”

Jake shrugged, still smiling. “I just didn’t expect you to have a girlfriend before me.”

Jay patted his shoulder. “You’ll get there, buddy.”

Jake tilted his head. “You think?”

“Yeah, you have nice eyes. Great personality.”

Jake beamed. “That’s so kind.”

“Can we please get back to my problem for like a minute?” Sunghoon cut in, glaring at both of them.

“Oh. Right.”

Jay cleared his throat and finally looked serious. “Look. We like her. She’s hilarious, and she makes good fucking food. And let’s be real, you’ve never liked anyone. We’ve been trying to get you to double date with us for years and you just stare at your phone all the time. But with her? You’re like... a guy with actual feelings.”

“But now I’m losing to Jung… whatever his name is.” Sunghoon sighed.

“Jungwon,” Jake said. “And no, you’re not.”

“How do you know she doesn’t like him?” Sunghoon muttered, staring down at the floor.

“Because,” Jay said, “if she did, she wouldn’t have kissed you.”

“Unless she’s indecisive or confused or something. I don’t know.” Sunghoon exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I was just… a moment. And he’s her person.”

Jake shook his head. “I’m telling you—just talk to her.”

“Yeah,” Jay added. “Before you spiral even harder and start writing love songs about her. But if you do, I haved like a couple of guitars you could borrow.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. But somewhere, deep down… a part of him hoped they were right.

You were pacing back and forth on your cheap IKEA rug, while Jungwon was laid out dramatically on your bed, arms folded behind his head, thoroughly enjoying the show.

“I’m telling you, he’s avoiding me,” you snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at no one in particular. “We kissed—KISSED, Jungwon—and now he won’t even look at me! I wave, he nods. I say hi, he nods. I breathe in his direction, he—guess what—nods!”

Jungwon hummed, annoyingly calm. “Maybe he’s nervous. Or maybe he wants you to go to him.”

“I do go to him! And then he speed-walks away like I’m the plague!” You groaned, pressing your fingers to your temples. “I’m gonna lose it.”

“Maybe…” he tapped his chin thoughtfully, “you’re just a shit kisser.”

You whipped around and chucked a throw pillow directly at his smug face.

“Asshole.”

He caught it with a grin, clutching it to his chest dramatically. “I’m just saying. Maybe you scared him off.”

“You’re lucky I haven’t strangled you with this blanket,” you muttered, grabbing another pillow just in case.

Jungwon sat up, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt. “You know, sometimes I forget we grew up together because you’re so unpredictable now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He snorted. “You used to be fearless. Remember that Heeseung guy you had a crush on in middle school?”

You blinked. “What about him?”

“You were six, and you walked up to him at recess, said ‘I like your lunchbox,’ then kissed his cheek and ran off.”

“Ah,” you said flatly, “the good old days. That girl’s dead now.”

“She’s not dead,” Jungwon argued, grabbing your wrists and tugging you to sit beside him on the bed. “She’s just… overthinking everything. Look, if Sunghoon doesn’t like you—whatever. But if he does? You’re missing out just because you’re too chicken to tell him.”

You glared. “I hate it when you make sense.”

“I know.” He grinned. “It’s my worst trait.”

“I just—” you exhaled, flopping back beside him. “What if it ruins everything? We literally just got closer. What if I say something and it all goes to shit?”

“Okay, counter-offer.” He sat up straighter. “You tell him, or I will. I will walk down the hallway, knock on his door, and go ‘Hi, my best friend has feelings for you, she also has performance anxiety but can cook a great bowl of chicken noodle soup.’”

“You wouldn’t,” you hissed, swatting at his arm.

“Then do it yourself!” he laughed, dodging your attacks. “Before I start printing flyers and pasting them in the apartment lobby.”

God. Why did he always have to be right?

“Fine.”

Your hand was already on the doorknob, breath caught in your throat, just about to leave when the door across from yours had swung open at the exact same time.

And there he was.

Sunghoon.

You both froze, hands still gripping the doorknobs, blinking.

You cleared your throat first. “Sunghoon.”

He blinked like he hadn’t already been staring. “What?”

You squinted. “Is that the only word you know how to say when I call your name?”

He paused. “Sorry.”

You opened your mouth to say something else but were rudely interrupted by muffled snorts from behind Sunghoon. Jay and Jake’s heads popped out from their doorway like nosy meerkats.

“Hoon,” Jay said in a loud, exaggerated voice, “we need more eggs.”

“Desperately,” Jake added, nodding like this was a national emergency. “Go to the store.”

Then Jungwon peeked out from behind you with an equally suspicious grin. “Oh, and while you’re there, can you grab some ice cream too?”

You and Sunghoon looked at each other.

“What is happening right now,” you said flatly.

Before either of you could respond, four hands shoved the both of you toward the elevator. You stumbled in, the doors sliding shut just as Jay yelled out, “Don’t come back without snacks!”

The elevator stopped at your floor.

Your shoulders brushed as you stood side by side, awkwardly watching the floor numbers light up.

Then, finally, you broke it. “About that day—”

Sunghoon shook his head quickly. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t tell Jungwon.”

You blinked. “What do you mean you won’t tell Jungwon?”

He looked away. “Well, aren’t you like… crushing on him? I wouldn’t want what we did to, you know… ruin your chances or something.”

Your entire face scrunched up. “Won and I? What? Ew. God, no. We’re friends. We grew up together. Thinking about him that way would be like incest or something.”

And just like that, Sunghoon felt like he’d been hit by a shooting star and given a second chance at life. His heart did a full backflip. You were single. You were available.

He couldn’t help it. He smiled.

“Why do you suddenly look so happy?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I’m not.”

“You’re literally smiling.”

“I’m not.”

“We’ve hung out a couple of times and if I’m being honest, I’ve never seen you smile this—”

“Cut it out.” He tried to brush it off, biting back the grin. “I’m just glad.”

“Glad about?”

“Glad that I didn’t ruin your chances,” he said nonchalantly, looking up like he hadn’t just panicked thirty seconds ago.

“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, the golden-orange glow of the sunset casting warmth across his cheekbones. He was handsome. Frustratingly so. “Well… because I actually like this other guy.”

Sunghoon’s smile faltered.

“I haven’t known him that long,” you continued casually, “but he seems cool. I don’t really know much about him yet.”

“That’s… nice.” Sunghoon turned away quickly, jaw tight. He was definitely grimacing. Please don’t let her see that I’m grimacing, he begged internally.

“Yeah, he’s really tall. Really handsome, too.”

“That’s just…” he exhaled. “Great.”

“He doesn’t seem super friendly but he has a big heart. Even if he tries really hard not to show it.”

“Seems like a swell fuckin’ guy,” he muttered bitterly.

“It’s a pity though,” you sighed dramatically, still watching him. “I wish I could get to know him better.”

“Well… anyone’s lucky to get to know you.” He tried to smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. “I know I am.”

You tilted your head. “Not to mention… he lives really close to me.”

Sunghoon’s eyes darted to you. “He does?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, heartbeat accelerating.

“Like how close?”

You took a slow step toward him. “Like… just across the hall close.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “That close.”

Silence settled in the small elevator. You both just stood there, not looking at each other, tension hanging in the air like humidity.

Then, out of nowhere—

“I’m just saying,” Sunghoon said, dead serious, “but Jake sleeps with the lights on and Jay doesn’t wash his hair as often as you think he does.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“I sleep normal,” he added quickly. “I wash my hair. I do proper haircare—shampoo, conditioner, mask, mist. I could do your routine too. For you. If you want.”

You stared.

“I can’t cook, but I’ll try. I can figure skate. I can spin twice in the air. Jay and Jake? Not even one spin. Jay can play guitar, Jake can sing but I can spin, okay? Without getting dizzy too.”

“Sunghoon.”

“And those idiots never clean up after eating your food. Jay doesn’t use coasters. Jake never makes his bed.”

“SUNGHOON!”

He looked at you, breathless. “What?”

You stepped forward. Slowly. Then, you mumbled, “It’s you.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I like you.”

And for once, Park Sunghoon had absolutely nothing to say.

“Okay,” he said. “Cool. Okay. I—wow. Okay.”

You raised a brow. “That’s it?”

He nodded dumbly. “No. Yes. I don’t know. I just—holy shit. You like me.”

You smirked, the smile slowly stretching across your face. “Yes. I like you.”

The elevator dinged. Neither of you moved.

He looked at you again, still dazed. “Hold on, I kinda need a minute.”

You both stepped out into the empty lobby. The sun outside had just dipped below the skyline, casting a pinkish-orange glow through the glass doors. The streetlights flickered on. But you waited.

“It’s been a minute,” you said.

“I know,” he exhaled, hand raking through his hair. “But you like me back, so I kinda need, like… a long minute.”

“Back?” You grinned, the corners of your mouth lifting all the way to your eyes. “So you like me too?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I thought it was obvious from the, uh… word vomit.”

“Well yeah,” you shrugged. “But I didn’t want to assume. Didn’t wanna be narcissistic.”

“I think even if you were,” he muttered, “I’d still think you were pretty cute.”

You blinked. “Did you just—”

“Gross, I know,” he said quickly, face flushing. “I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”

You laughed. “Yeah. But you kinda can’t take it back now.”

“Fine,” he said, pretending to groan. “You’re cute. Ugh. I said it again.”

A MONTH LATER

Jay and Jake found it fundamentally unfair. They were the ones who got close to you first. They were the ones who complimented you, made you laugh, showed up when you needed help. They loved you first or at least, that’s what they told themselves. But here you were, doors locked for the first time in three months, cooking a full-course meal for Sunghoon to celebrate your one-month anniversary.

“You’re not allowed to come,” Sunghoon told them flatly before slamming the door shut.

“But—!” they shouted in unison, already mourning the steak they wouldn’t get to taste.

Word on the hallway was that you were cooking the perfect medium-rare T-bone steak, paired with your signature brown sauce and a vegetable medley so crunchy and flavourful. Meanwhile, Jay and Jake sat hunched on the couch, scrolling through a food delivery app.

“Isn’t it funny,” Jake said, arms folded, “how we were the ones who befriended her first, and now we’re stuck with Burger King?”

“Life’s unfair, bud.”

Back in your apartment, things were a little more romantic. You’d decorated with fairy lights and candles, the room dimly lit. You were still being frugal, splitting every cost you could. But you’d managed to steal two T-bone steaks from the diner you part-timed at.

Sunghoon showed up in a black and white tuxedo, looking like he’d taken the prom theme you had placed as a joke a little too seriously.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“And you look absolutely handsome,” you grinned.

He walked over to the table and took in the spread. “Okay, what do we have?”

“I made the steaks, obviously, and then there’s the vegetable medley… and your favourite—mashed potatoes,” you giggled.

Sunghoon exhaled, shaking his head with a disbelieving smile. “How did I get so lucky?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know either.”

He laughed. “The guys are pissed, by the way. You made me all this, and they’re over there with cold fries.”

“What?” you said, surprised. “I made them something too! Don’t worry.”

“You did?” he raised a brow.

“I had a feeling they’d be hungry if you were over here.”

“Babe, you didn’t have to do that. They’re grown men.”

“Yeah, but technically my assignment this week was pasta and I have too many leftovers.”

“They’re spoiled by you.”

“And so are you.”

“True, but I’m your boyfriend. They’re just two annoying shitheads constantly trying to butt in.”

“I’ll be quick. I’ll just drop the dish off and come back.”

“No,” he said, standing. “I’ll do it. You stay here.”

He kissed your forehead, grabbing the lasagna you’d tucked into the fridge. “You’re too sweet, you know that?”

“He walked across the hall and opened the door to Unit 3C.

Inside, Jay was mid-rant. “I just don’t get it. Sunghoon isn’t even that hot.”

“I mean, he is,” Jake added, “but she deserves better, you know?”

Sunghoon cleared his throat. “I can hear you two idiots.”

They both froze, turning around sheepishly. “We were just joking. We love you, man.”

He held up the dish. “And to think I came here bearing gifts from my girlfriend.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “Wait—is that lasagna?”

“She felt bad we were eating good without you, so she made you dinner.”

“Oh my god,” Jay gasped. “Sunghoon, I don’t mean to be pushy, but please marry her.”

“I can’t,” Sunghoon muttered. “Not when you two are constantly inserting yourselves into my relationship.”

“Okay, okay, we’ll back off. Just—can we have the lasagna?”

“And can you tell her we love her?”

“I am not telling my girlfriend you love her,” Sunghoon snapped. “I’ve barely worked up the nerve to tell her that myself.”

“Wait,” Jake said suddenly, “you haven’t told her you love her yet?”

“It’s only been a month.”

“So… you don’t love her?”

“I do,” Sunghoon replied, almost too quickly. “I just don’t want to come on too strong if she’s not ready.”

Jay and Jake shared a glance before shrugging.

“What?” Sunghoon asked, frowning. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jake cleared his throat. “It’s just… she already said it.”

Sunghoon looked up. “What?”

“Yeah,” Jake replied casually. “You texted her about picking up those heat packs for her cramps, and she went all soft and whispered, ‘God, I love him so much.’ Her words. Not mine.”

Sunghoon stood frozen in the doorway, the dish in his hands suddenly weightless.

You loved him.

“So… you’re saying I should tell her?” he asked, voice quiet, almost unsure.

Jay and Jake both nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely. Especially if it makes her our sister-in-law,” Jay added, grinning.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “God, the two of you can be so annoying.”

“But you still love us,” Jay shrugged. “So what’s the point of complaining?”

He hated that Jay was right.

Back in your apartment, Sunghoon sat across from you, completely transfixed. You were dressed in a soft pink satin dress that shimmered every time you moved. It hugged your shoulders delicately, the neckline simple, elegant. Your hair was curled softly, pinned loosely on one side with a vintage clip, and your lips were glossed just enough to make him stare longer than he should’ve.

And God, you looked so beautiful.

He tried to pay attention. He really did. But his heart was too loud, his thoughts too full. How was he supposed to say it?

Sunghoon had never told anyone he loved them before. Not seriously. Maybe to his mom years ago, right before he left for the city. But this? This felt entirely new.

Because sitting in front of him was someone who made every quiet part of his life feel loud again. You filled in the spaces he didn’t even know were missing. You made his apartment feel less cold, his world a little less grey. And the way he loved you—God, it wasn’t something small. It wasn’t a flicker or a passing crush. It was all-consuming and terrifying and the best damn thing he’d ever felt.

He loved you like it was muscle memory. Like even if he forgot everything else, his hands would still reach for yours and only yours.

“Hoonie,” you interrupted gently, frowning. “You’re not listening.”

He blinked back into focus. “Sorry,” he murmured, smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was just thinking about something.”

“What?” you looked up at him, ur big eyes shining.

Sunghoon unknowingly smiled, his eyes dripping with honey, god he loved you. He wanted to say that. So badly.

“I…I just–uh–feel…that,” His voice trailed off. “You look really beautiful tonight. I mean, you always do. But especially tonight.” He hesitated, the words stuck behind his teeth.

You smiled. “Thank you. You look very handsome too.”

Later that night, the two of you were in Sunghoon’s apartment along with Jay and Jake for the usual game night.

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, your prom-night dress bunched awkwardly around your knees, mascara slightly smudged from earlier laughter, hair pinned half-up. Sunghoon sat slouched in the beanbag beside you, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed in concentration. Jake was lying on his stomach, legs swinging in the air, and Jay had somehow made himself horizontal on the couch.

You and Jake were a team. Sunghoon and Jay were not handling that well.

“Revive me!” Sunghoon yelled.

Jay shouted back, “I’m busy trying not to die, dumbass!”

Button mashing intensified. Trash talk flew across the room.

“VICTORY!” Jake screamed, leaping up like a madman.

You followed suit, springing to your feet and clambering up onto the coffee table in your dress. “GET WRECKED, LOSERS!” you yelled, pointing dramatically at Sunghoon. “THAT’S RIGHT, LOSERS!”

Jake joined you on the table, doing a badly timed robot dance. The two of you jumped in sync, yelling in triumph, while Jay groaned into a throw pillow and Sunghoon watched with a hand covering his mouth, half to hide his smile, half to suppress a laugh.

“You’re all bark, no bite!” you called, face flushed, hair falling loose. “Your character died fourteen times, Hoonie.”

“I let you win!” he shot back, grinning as he sat up straighter. “I was being a gentleman.”

“Sure,” you scoffed, sticking your tongue out at him. “Real chivalrous of you, sir died-14-fucking-times.”

He chuckled under his breath, eyes lingering on you for a second longer than usual. Then, without a word, he stood and walked out of the room.

You blinked. That was...odd.

You gave Jake a gentle shove off the table and followed Sunghoon into the hallway. He was pacing outside, one hand in his hair, the other fiddling with the watch on his wrist.

“Hoon?” you asked, stepping out and gently closing the door behind you.

He jumped slightly, turning toward you. “You scared me.”

“You okay? You just left so sudden…”

“I—uh—yeah. I was just trying to figure out how to say something.”

You tilted your head, arms crossing over your chest. “Say what?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled with a shrug.

Your expression softened. “Are you mad at me?” You sighed. Maybe your little victory dance had been a bit much. “Hoonie?”

“No, baby, I could never be mad at you,” he said quickly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just…”

You stepped closer, teasing lightly, “Do you want me to redo my victory dance? I could. You just have to beatbox, and I’ll take it from there.”

That made him laugh.

“Come on,” you grinned, starting to move your body in the most ridiculous way. “I’m pretty sure I should’ve been a dancer instead of a chef.”

He laughed again, this time louder and then, before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.

“Oh my god, I love you.”

You blinked. Your smile faded. Your brain, for one impossible second, completely short-circuited.

“Did you just say you love me?” you asked, heart hammering.

His eyes widened in sheer panic. “No?”

“I heard it.”

“You misheard.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped, practically vibrating. “You love me. You love me!”

“Fine!” he burst out, throwing his hands up like he was under arrest. “I do! I love you, okay?”

You smiled, “You do?”

“Of course! I love the way you talk too fast when you’re excited. I love how you make my idiot friends feel like they matter. I love that you make me feel whole. That when I’m with you, I don’t feel hollow anymore. You… you make me feel like I’m not empty.”

You grinned so wide it hurt. “That’s because you’re not.”

“I used to be,” he said helplessly, gesturing vaguely like he was mourning his past self. “I was mysterious. Brooding. Sexy, even. And now? Now I smile at cat videos you send me on TikTok. Look what you’ve done to me. This is all your fault.”

You scoffed, “My fault?”

“Yes! Who else could it be?” he said, breathless, like the truth had been waiting at the edge of his tongue for too long. “You walk into my life with that stupidly perfect smile, that laugh that makes everything feel lighter, those eyes that somehow hold the whole damn sky and now I’ve got feelings. Big ones.”

He took a shaky breath, pausing for a minute.

“I used to think I was fine on my own. But now? I get out of bed just because I know I might see you. I hear your knock and my whole day lights up. For the first time, I feel like I know what living really means. It’s you. Loving you. That’s it.”

You leaned in and kissed him right in the middle of his rant.

He blinked, dazed.

“You sure talk a lot for someone who usually says nothing,” you murmured, forehead resting against his.

“I do it when I’m nervous,” Sunghoon whispered, and then kissed you again.

“I find it cute,” you mumbled between kisses.

Sunghoon grinned into the next kiss, backing you up step by step toward your apartment door, his hands finding your waist. “God,” kiss “I love you,” another kiss “so much.”

You let out a breathless laugh. “You’re very handsy for someone who claimed to be brooding and mysteriou.”

“I told you,” he whispered, lips brushing your jaw as he reached behind you, fumbling for the door handle, “you ruined me.”

Your back hit the door with a thud. He fumbled with the knob like he was drunk on you, eventually pushing it open and guiding you inside.

He kicked the door shut with the back of his foot.

You were still laughing into his kiss. He walked you backward until your knees hit the bed and you dropped onto it with a squeak.

He climbed over you, hands on either side of your waist, face flushed, heart in his throat.

“I fucking love you,” he said again, like it wasn’t real until he repeated it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, eyes sparkling. “I love you too.”

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