you're the whole world and the world is mine.

by night, you’re holed up in your sleek penthouse, the city skyline glittering through the windows as you craft content for onlyfans. the cash flows in...more than you ever thought possible...because the guys who subscribe are hooked.

especially the ones your age, mid-20s, who lose their damn minds every time you drop a new post. you keep it anonymous, though, always filming from the collarbone down, never showing your face.

it’s your little shield, letting them project whatever they want onto you while you stay untouchable.

your top subscriber is a guy who's user is pentagon.gyu.

he is the one who keeps things interesting. he’s shy in his messages, all stutters and soft words, but when it comes to buying your personal content...custom videos, private photos...he’s possessive as hell, dropping cash like it’s nothing to keep you to himself.

you’ve done sex calls with him before, his voice low and hesitant at first, then intense, like he’s holding back a flood. well, because he was.

there’s chemistry there, crackling through the phone, but you don’t know him. you do not know his face, not his life, and he doesn’t know you either.

come daylight, and you’re a different person. you’re out in the world, blending into the crowd like it’s second nature. you visit your family, chatting with your mom over coffee like nothing’s out of the ordinary. you wander through farmers markets, picking out ripe peaches and fresh herbs, or sign up for ceramics classes where you spend hours shaping clay into lopsided bowls. sometimes you hit the gym, sweating it out in leggings and an oversized hoodie, keeping it lowkey.

you dress modestly...loose sweaters, nice baggy levi jeans, sneakers...and no one would ever peg you as the girl who rakes in thousands by night.

it’s a quiet life, a normal one, and you love how it balances out the chaos of your other world.

one night, everything collides.

your friend se-mi invites you to her party, and you figure, why not? you slip into an black tube top that hugs your frame just right and a pair of faded levi blue jeans, casual but cute.

your arm tattoos are on full display, though...those fine-line stars swirling around your right arm, a mini galaxy you got inked years ago because it felt like you.

it is the same tattoos pentagon.gyu’s rambled about in his messages, obsessed with how they shift when you move. you don’t think about that as you head to se-mi’s place, though. you’re just there to have a good time.

the party is alive when you arrive...music thumping, people spilling out onto the balcony, drinks sloshing in red cups. if you had to guess, there is maybe a hundred people in this small house.

you find se-mi by the bar, laughing with some girl while some purple hair guy raps his head off... clearly he is trying too hard. the guy's name is thanos.

another dude, namgyu, lingers nearby, quieter, watching the room with this steady gaze. you don’t know them, but they’re friends of se-mi’s, so you figure they’re cool.

you’re chatting with her, sipping something fruity, when thanos swaggers over, laying on some ridiculous rap to get your attention.

“yo, girl, you’re a vibe, let me slide in, take you for a ride,” he drawls, grinning like he’s god’s gift.

you force a smile, trying to be nice, but it’s not your thing.

“uh, thanks, but i’m good,” you say, keeping it light. he shrugs and keeps going, undeterred.

namgyu, though, he’s still watching. the guy's eyes snag on your arm...those stars...and you don’t notice the way his jaw tightens.

he knows that he knows those tattoos. he’s seen them a hundred times in your personal videos, memorized the way they curve around your skin.

when thanos finally peels off with se-mi because the dj calls them over, namgyu doesn’t move. he steps closer, hands in his pockets, and his voice cuts through the noise.

“well its nice to finally meet you, fantasygalaxy.”

you freeze. the drink in your hand feels heavier, the air thicker. you turn to him, wide-eyed, heart slamming in your chest.

“w-wh-what’d you just say?” you ask, voice shaky, hoping you misheard. he tilts his head, casual as hell.

“don’t play stupid. i know it’s you.” your mind races. no one’s ever recognized you outside the app...your face isn’t even out there.

you try to laugh it off, grasping at straws.

“fantasygalaxy? what’s that? some sci-fi thing?” but he’s not buying it.

he steps closer, voice dropping... “if it makes you feel better...i’m pentagon.gyu.”

your stomach lurches. this is the guy...the one who’s dropped 20 grand on you in the last few months, who’s whispered your name through the phone like it’s a prayer.

“you’re serious?” you manage, barely above a whisper.

he nods, and there’s this awkward beat where neither of you knows what to say.

“yeah. been a fan for a while,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, almost sheepish, “didn’t think i’d run into you here, wasn't even aware that you were good friends with one of mine.”

you don’t know what to do, so you gesture to the bar.

“uh, sit?”

he follows, and you both settle onto stools, the party fading into the background. it’s weird as hell at first...tense, like you’re waiting for him to turn into some sleazy asshole.

he doesn’t. he’s just… namgyu, sitting there, sipping a beer, glancing at you like he’s trying to figure you out.

“so,” you start, fidgeting with your drink, “how’d you know it was me?” namgyu smirks, just a little.

“the tattoos. your body. i’ve seen enough of your stuff to put it together. wasn’t expecting the face, though. you’re prettier in person.”

you flush, caught off guard.

“thanks.” it’s not creepy, not the way he says it...just honest. you relax a bit, leaning on the bar.

“you’re not gonna, like, tell anyone, are you?”

he shakes his head fast.

“nah. not my style. your secret’s safe with me.”

there’s a pause, then he adds, “i’m not some weirdo, y’know. just… a guy who likes what you do.”

you talk for hours after that, the awkwardness melting away. he’s not thirsting, not pawing at you like you’ve seen other guys do with other sex content creators.

he’s chill, funny even, telling you about his job at as a club promotor and how he stumbled onto your page one late night after another man recommended your page to him.

“didn’t mean to get hooked,” he admits, laughing.

“but those stars? they’re kinda my favorite.” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling.

“you’ve said that before. on the calls.” he blushes, caught.

“yeah, well, it’s true.”

it’s 3am when you glance at the clock, the party thinning out.

“i should find se-mi,” you say, sliding off the stool.

“tell her i’m heading out.”

he nods, hesitating like he’s about to say something.

“i was gonna give you my number,” he starts, but before he can finish, you pull out your phone, heart pounding.

“here,” you say, typing it in and handing it over.

“text me. maybe we can… i dunno, meet up sometime.” his eyes widen, like he didn’t expect it.

“for real?” he asks, and you nod, swallowing hard.

“yeah. just… don’t be a creep, okay?”

“promise,” he says, grinning as he saves it. you give him a small wave, then slip away to find se-mi, your mind spinning.

you know you’ll see him again... pentagon.gyu, namgyu, whatever he is.

a few days after the party, you’re texting namgyu, fingers hovering over the screen as you figure out what to say.

it’s weird, this shift from pentagon.gyu, your faceless top subscriber, to this guy you’ve met in the flesh. he’s the one who suggests meeting up, casual at first.

“wanna grab coffee or something?”

when you agree, he switches it up.

“actually, how about my place? i’ll cook. nothing fancy.”

you hesitate, stomach flipping. this isn’t just coffee. this is real, physical, crossing a line you’ve never crossed before.

all of your sex work has been digital photos, videos, calls...safe behind a screen. now it’s namgyu’s apartment, and you know where it might lead.

still, you say yes.

you show up at his place, a modest one-bedroom with mismatched furniture and a faint smell of burnt toast. he tried cooking, apparently, and failed.

you’re nervous, shifting in your sandals, wearing a cute olive green halter top, your tattoos peeking out from your sleeves.

he’s nervous too, stammering through small talk about his day until the tension’s too thick to ignore.

“so, uh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “you wanna…?” he doesn’t finish, but you know what he means.

you nod, heart racing. “yeah. let’s do it.”

it’s awkward at first, standing in his living room, until he pulls you onto the couch. you’re kissing, his hands shaky but eager, and you can feel how bad he wants this.

“fuck, i’ve dreamed about this,” he mutters against your lips, voice rough. you slide off the couch, kneeling between his legs, and he freezes, eyes wide.

“yo, you don’t have to—” he starts, but you cut him off, tugging at his jeans.

“shush, i want to.” it’s your first time doing this in person for sex work, and your nerves are buzzing, but there’s something about his mix of shy and desperate that makes you want to.

you pull him out, and he’s already hard, twitching in your hand.

“shit,” he breathes, head tipping back as you lean in, lips brushing the tip. you take him into your mouth, slow at first, testing it out, and he’s a mess instantly.

“oh fuck, oh fuck, you’re so good,” he groans, voice cracking. he’s pathetic in the best way...hands gripping the couch, hips jerking like he can’t control it.

you bob your head, tongue swirling, and he’s losing it, whining your name...your real name, not fantasygalaxy...over and over.

“please, don’t stop, fuck, i need you,” he begs when you pull back for a second, teasing. his desperation’s vulgar, raw, and it spurs you on.

“you’re so fucking hot, I can’t...please,” he gasps, practically sobbing as you take him deeper.

it doesn’t take long. he’s too wound up, too obsessed with you, and when you hollow your cheeks, he’s done for.

“i’m gonna—fuck, i’m cumming,” he chokes out, and then he does, hot and messy in your mouth. you swallow, wiping your lips as you pull away, and he’s still trembling, chest heaving.

you stand, expecting that to be it, but then he’s sliding off the couch, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“more,” he pleads, hands grabbing at your thighs.

“please, i’ll do anything, ju--just let me taste you.” namgyu's eyes are wild, needy, and you can’t say no.

you give in, letting him tug your jeans down, and soon he’s got his mouth on your center, clumsy but eager, moaning into your skin like he’s starved for it.

weeks pass, and things shift.

it’s not just sex anymore...though that happens plenty. you and namgyu start hanging out, mini dates sneaking into your routine. lunch runs where he insists on paying, late-night takeout at his place while you watch shitty movies, walks through the streets of hongdae where he shyly grabs your hand.

you still post on onlyfans, and he’s still pentagon.gyu, dropping cash on your content like the loyal subscriber he’s always been, but now it’s different.

he’s not just a fan anymore...he’s yours. you’re exclusive, a quiet agreement that settles in without much fuss. he doesn’t care that you keep working; he loves it, even, says it’s hot knowing you’re his outside the app.

one night, sprawled on his couch after a lazy hangout, he’s got his arm around you, scrolling through your latest post on his phone.

“you’re so fucking unreal,” he murmurs, kissing your temple. you laugh, nudging him.

“you’re biased.” he grins, all teeth.

“maybe but i’m the luckiest bastard alive.”

who knew, huh? your favorite subscriber, the shy guy who begged for you on his knees, turning into your boyfriend.

life’s funny.

masterlist

as shitty as his old life was, he couldn’t have been happier to have it back. promoting club pentagon again, getting high every weekend, slipping right back into his little trashy life.

plus, now he had something he didn’t have before. you.

he’d met you there, in the games, and he’d been doomed from then on. it was a strange sort of thing, really. nam-gyu was never the type to feel things. at first, he actually thought he’d caught the flu. then he figured it was just some kind of ptsd after the games—which, to be fair, he definitely had, but that was a whole other thing. but no, the tingling in his fingertips whenever he touched you, the stupid flip his stomach did when you talked... that wasn’t a mental disorder, no matter how much he tried to convince himself it was.

he’d never felt that way about a girl before. almost... caring. maybe it was more than caring, but he’d never admit it. anyway, you and him were in some kind of limbo. you weren’t something, but you weren’t nothing either. you hung out multiple times a week, texted semi-regularly, and had messy make-out sessions more times than he could count—but less than he would’ve liked. never more than making out, though. and yeah, that thought crossed his mind sometimes. he wasn’t an expert on these things, but he’d taken girls to bed for much less.

you always seemed to stop things right before they got too intense, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him. having to beat his meat every time after hanging out with you wasn’t exactly fun. but somehow, you seemed worth it. so he, the most impatient man in the world, had decided to be patient. for once.

anyway, even though he knew you weren’t really used to clubs, he figured he’d invite you to club pentagon. he wanted you to have a fun time, see where he worked, see how his life was before the games. he wanted you to let loose a little.

"thanos will be there, it'll be fun," he’d said, and it hadn’t taken much to convince you.

so there you were, the cold biting at your legs in your short skirt, gripping your purse tight as you eyed the long line of people waiting to get in. then, skipping it—feeling very glamorous all of a sudden.

"i'm, uh, friends with nam-gyu," you said, the words coming out almost like a question as the bouncer looked you up and down. you gave your name, and after a moment, he finally spotted you on the list, letting you in without much fuss.

as you stepped into the club, you were almost left in awe. you'd never really liked clubs—not really. when all your friends started partying, you gave it a shot before deciding you preferred a more chill vibe. getting drunk with friends, sharing a blunt, that sort of thing. but then again, the shitty clubs your friends dragged you to in your teenage years couldn’t compare to club pentagon.

several stories high, you could barely make out the ceiling. lights of different hues illuminated the space, smoke spilling from canisters, the bass-heavy music pulsing from a dj booth stationed at the center of the main floor. to say it was packed was an understatement, and you didn’t wonder why. the place was incredible.

you looked around, suddenly awkward. what now? what were you supposed to do? where were you supposed to go? how—

"nam-gyu!" you called out, spotting him weaving through the crowd toward you. he glanced up at you, nodding in greeting. kept it cool. he always kept it cool.

nam-gyu wasn’t expecting you to look this good. which, in hindsight, was a mistake.

your hands found their place on his shoulders before you even thought about it, familiar but not entirely effortless. still getting used to this. to him. to the way he let you in but only just enough.

"you came." he smirked slightly. his hand found your waist without thinking, the fabric of your shirt soft beneath his fingers. he barely had time to process it before you leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. barely there. almost shy.

you weren’t used to that either. you pulled away just as quickly, catching the way nam-gyu’s dark eyes flickered over you before he schooled his expression into something more detached. not detached enough, though. the way his thumb ghosted over your side told another story. he was playing it cool. always.

"this place is super cool," you said, spinning slightly to take it all in.

the music pulsed, deep and low, the bass rattling the floor beneath you. the air smelled like expensive liquor and cheap cologne, bodies pressing close under flashing lights.

nam-gyu scoffed, pleased despite himself. "yeah?" he chuckled, tilting his head at you, his expression settling into something smug. "c'mon, i’ll show you the vip section."

and of course, you let him.

he led you through the club, already losing track of its winding paths, but nam-gyu moved like he owned the place. and he liked it—you could see he liked it. guiding you like he held any real power, his hand still pressed firmly to your lower waist as he did so. he liked being the one guiding you, showing you his world like it meant something. like he meant something here. and maybe he did. maybe you saw it too.

"look who it is!"

the voice cut through the air just before you reached the top of the short staircase. thanos. loud as ever, his grin splitting his face as he all but threw himself up from the couch. the two girls draped over him barely had time to react before he pulled away, arms open wide as he closed the distance between you.

you barely had time to brace yourself before he engulfed you in a hug, laughter rumbling from his chest. the scent of cologne and alcohol clung to him, heavy and overfamiliar, like he had been here for hours.

"damn, lookin' good!" he said as he pulled away, giving you a quick once-over—no real interest behind it, but enough to make you giggle.

it really was crazy how being stuck in some life-or-death games could make people this close in such a short time.

"okay, chill." nam-gyu rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile on his lips, his hand never leaving your waist.

thanos ignored him. "have a seat, señorita." he gestured toward the black leather couch, and you, along with nam-gyu, walked over to sit down. thanos dropped back into his seat, slinging his arms around the two girls, who seemed more than happy about it.

you ordered a drink as soon as you saw an opening, your nerves slowly starting to settle. though, judging by the weird looks you got for passing on the white powder on the table and the little bags of funky-colored pills, not everyone was on the same page.

there were other people you didn’t recognize lounging on the couches—probably some of nam-gyu’s friends or co-workers. thanos started rattling off introductions, including the girls, and as the alcohol finally started running through your veins, you felt yourself relaxing, settling into the atmosphere a little more.

you weren't sure how much time had passed, but the warmth of the alcohol was settling into your limbs, making everything feel just a little bit softer. the music vibrated through your chest, the flashing lights casting shifting colors over the VIP lounge, and you were beginning to understand why nam-gyu liked this place so much. it was loud, chaotic, a little grimy—but undeniably alive.

"you good?" nam-gyu leaned in, voice low against your ear. his breath was warm, his hand sliding from your waist to rest on your thigh, fingers pressing absentminded circles into your skin.

"mhm," you hummed, tilting your head toward him. "it’s actually kinda fun."

"yeah?" he smirked, like he knew he'd be right all along. of course he did. "told you."

his hand squeezed your thigh lightly before retreating, but not before dragging his fingers a little too slow against your skin. you rolled your eyes, but you didn't move away.

"hey, hey!" thanos suddenly called out, raising his arms to make sure everyone was listening. "how about we play a game?"

some people groaned, others laughed. a game?

"what game?" someone asked. thanos smirked, clearly pleased that he had everyone's attention.

"never have i ever," he said, his grin widening as more groans followed.

"aren't we a little too old for that?" you asked, smirking like the idea amused you.

"i'm not." he shrugged. "are you girls?" he leaned back, and both girls shook their heads vigorously.

you turned to nam-gyu, who seemed more interested in watching you than the conversation. your cheeks warmed when you caught him staring.

"wanna play?" you asked. he just shrugged. he wasn’t really into these kinds of games—he wasn’t into any games, really—but he didn’t care enough to argue. whatever passed the time.

eventually, everyone gathered around the table, all eyes on thanos as he ordered a round of the strongest drink he could think of for everyone.

the first few rounds were harmless enough. “never have i ever gotten a secret tattoo.” “never have i ever been arrested.” stupid things. you sipped your drink when necessary, laughing at some of the stories that followed, the warmth of the alcohol sinking deeper into your skin. nam-gyu barely participated, only taking a sip when he absolutely had to, but his hand had found its way back to your thigh, his fingers drumming absentmindedly against your skin.

then the questions started shifting.

"never have i ever hooked up in a club," one of thanos’ girls said, grinning like she already knew the answer for most people here. a bunch of hands reached for their drinks, nam-gyu included. you hesitated just a second too long before passing. his eyes flicked toward you, but he didn’t say anything.

the next one wasn’t any better.

"never have i ever had a one-night stand," some guy threw out. almost everyone drank. except you. you felt it before you even looked—nam-gyu was watching. his fingers stilled against your thigh for half a second before they resumed their lazy tapping, like he was processing something.

it wasn’t weird, not really. plenty of people hadn’t had one-night stands before. but it was the way you hesitated every time, the way your fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed.

"never have i ever had sex in a public place," thanos threw in, laughing when half the group groaned.

nam-gyu took a sip. you didn’t.

you looked up at nam-gyu, meeting his gaze for just a second too long. you knew what he was thinking. knew he was piecing it together. maybe he’d already suspected—maybe he already knew—but this was confirmation, wasn’t it?

"wait," thanos interrupted, a slight crack in his voice from how drunk he was. "you're cheating!" he pointed at you.

"what? i'm not." you frowned, confused as everyone turned to look.

"c’mon, your glass is almost full. you haven't been drinking."

he wasn’t wrong. sure, you’d taken your fair share of gulps, but considering most people were on their second drink—some even on their third—it was true.

a flicker of anxiety crept in, the alcohol in your system making you let out a stupid giggle. "i'm not cheating," you shrugged shyly.

"she hasn’t been drinking on the sex ones. i've seen it."

your smile vanished completely. one of the girls next to thanos had spoken, but it was nam-gyu you worried about. you’d caught him noticing earlier, but you kind of hoped he wouldn’t actually put the pieces together.

hoped he wouldn’t realize you were a virgin.

but now, with everyone watching, you were running out of luck.

"yeah, because... because i haven't done some of those things."

it was normal, you told yourself. being a virgin. the right time had never come, and you weren’t about to give it up for some scumbag at a club. you knew you shouldn’t be ashamed. but this? definitely not something you wanted everyone to know.

"what?" some guy blurted out, brows furrowed. "those were easy. you're telling me you never had a one-night stand?"

you pressed your lips together awkwardly. what did he expect you to say?

meanwhile, nam-gyu hadn't stopped watching you, his hand—resting on your leg—now completely still.

it was driving you nuts.

but as you looked over at thanos, you knew it was definitely over for you. a slow smile crept onto his previously confused expression as realization dawned. "holy shit, you're a virgin!"

your stomach twisted. a hot wave of embarrassment rushed up your neck, burning under the weight of every pair of eyes on you.

"what? no," you scoffed, trying for casual, but it came out a little too forced, a little too breathless.

thanos’ grin stretched wider. he could smell bullshit from a mile away. "oh, come on," he laughed, leaning forward like he was about to drag this out, like he was about to make it a thing.

panic prickled at the edges of your brain. you needed to get out of here. fast.

your phone. yes. a perfect excuse. you yanked it out of your bag, squinting at the screen like you’d just received the most urgent message of your life. "shit," you muttered. "i gotta go."

you were already pushing up from your seat before anyone could react. nam-gyu's hand slid off your thigh, his fingers barely catching against your skin before falling away completely.

"wait—what? already?"

"yeah, sorry," you said quickly, grabbing your coat, your bag, whatever you needed just to make a clean escape. "totally forgot i had something early tomorrow. can’t stay."

someone called after you. maybe thanos. maybe one of the girls. you weren’t sure. you weren’t listening. you were already weaving through the crowd, heart hammering, barely remembering to toss a quick "bye!" over your shoulder before the club swallowed you whole.

still sitting on the couch, nam-gyu's mind was spinning, and he was barely even drunk.

of course you were a virgin.

it all made sense now. the way you looked at him sometimes, the hesitation, the way you could go from teasing to flustered in seconds. the way you pulled back like you weren’t sure what would happen if you didn’t. and maybe he should’ve known, maybe it was obvious, but somehow, it still caught him off guard.

he hazily glanced toward where you'd just left, the rest of the crowd still laughing and talking around him.

nam-gyu wasn’t the type to walk girls home.

but then again, he also wasn’t the type to like girls.

so he did the only thing that made sense—he downed the rest of his drink, got up without bothering to say goodbye, and pushed his way through the club.

it was late. the streets were dangerous. he didn’t want you to die or whatever.

when he finally stepped out, the streets were dark, damp from earlier rain, and the air was sharp against his skin. he scanned the sidewalk, found you a few blocks ahead. you were walking fast, arms tucked close, head slightly down.

he hated this. hated how he cared. hated how natural it felt to push through the lingering crowd, to break into an easy jog—casual enough to not look stupid, but fast enough to close the distance. he just hoped everyone else was too drunk to remember him, of all people, running after someone.

“hey!” he called out once he was just a few steps behind you.

you turned at the sound of his voice, startled.

he caught the flicker of something on your face before you wiped it away—too fast, too practiced. a tear.

“nam-gyu?” you asked, confusion in your voice. “what—”

“i’ll walk you home.” he shrugged, casual, like it was no big deal. like it was just something to do. he shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he caught up to you, his face carefully neutral.

you gulped. the last thing you wanted was to be around him right now.

“okay.” you trailed off, unsure of what else to say. how had it come to this? you’d survived hell together, yet suddenly, everything was so awkward. he wondered the same thing as he walked beside you, lighting up a cigarette.

you felt bad. it wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it. a million times, actually. nam-gyu seemed so experienced, so mature, and you were just… a virgin. all those times you’d stopped things before they got too heated, all those times you’d held yourself back.

you weren’t even boyfriend and girlfriend. you didn’t want to burden him with the responsibility of taking your virginity. it was stupid, but you knew how men felt about it. they didn’t want some little girl who didn’t know what she was doing. they didn’t want to deal with it.

so ever since the games, ever since you two had started… whatever this was, you’d felt like you were leading him on. you knew you couldn’t keep it up forever. sooner or later, he’d find out and leave. you just hadn’t expected it to be this soon.

after a whole block in silence, he finally spoke.

"so you're a virgin?" nam-gyu blurted out, though he already knew the answer.

it wasn’t a judgment, just an observation—dry, matter-of-fact. he took a slow drag from his cigarette, the ember flaring briefly in the dim light before fading into the night air.

you cursed under your breath, shutting your eyes like that might somehow erase the last ten minutes of existence. as if not seeing him would make this less mortifying.

“…yeah.” the word barely made it past your lips, your voice low, hesitant.

when you finally risked a glance at him, he wasn’t even looking at you. his gaze was fixed on the cracked pavement, the faintest furrow in his brow betraying some kind of thought process.

you sighed, arms crossing tightly over your chest. “i know it sucks. i’m sorry for not telling you, but it’s not exactly something that comes up after almost dying multiple times playing kids’ games! like—hey, i know we just survived the most traumatic experience of our lives, but by the way, i’m a fucking vir—”

"'s fine."

the words were abrupt, cutting your rambling off before you could spiral any further.

you blinked, arms falling to your sides as you realized you’d been gesturing wildly, like that might somehow defend your own inexperience. meanwhile, nam-gyu just kept walking, cigarette perched between his fingers, deep in thought.

"really? you're fine with it?" you asked.

the truth was, nam-gyu wasn’t exactly thrilled.

it wasn’t even about you being a virgin, not really. it was the fact that he’d thought about fucking you ever since the games. which was humiliating enough to admit to himself. a man had his needs, after all. but once again, he found himself in the unfortunate position of giving a shit.

he exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw.

"…yeah." his voice was low, clipped. he wasn't mad—just thinking. weighing his options. where would this leave you?

he hated himself for liking you this much. not being an asshole was unfamiliar territory.

"if you don’t wanna have sex, i understand," he added after a beat.

you widened your eyes. "no, no!" you rushed out. "i do wanna have sex."

his brain stalled.

you swallowed, hesitating as he watched you, gaze steady but sharp, like he was trying to read between the lines. you shifted, tucking your hands into your sleeves. "i've just… never done it. and i don’t know… i didn’t wanna bother you or… anything."

it sounded beyond awkward.

nam-gyu frowned, processing. not because he thought anything bad about it—just because it never occurred to him. he’d assumed you weren’t interested in having sex at all, or that you were waiting for some deep, poetic reason, for someone that wasn't nam-gyu. but now you were here, telling him this, cheeks burning, voice all soft and uncertain.

and now he had to keep his shit together.

"so… you want me to, like…" his dick twitched in his pants, betraying him immediately. no way this was happening.

"i mean—only if you want to…" your cheeks were burning, you were sure of that now. you felt like a teenager talking to her crush.

if he wanted to? his jaw went slack for a second, a breath slipping out as he stared at you. it was barely a question.

"fuck yeah, i want to," he let out, low and firm, like he needed you to understand.

something shifted then. the air got tighter, the weight of the moment settling between you. you bit your lip, eyes flickering over his face like you were still trying to wrap your head around this. then, slowly, a smile crept onto your lips—breathless, nervous, electric.

"okay." you let out a shaky little laugh, grabbing his wrist. your grip was warm, solid, like you’d made up your mind and there was no going back now. "okay, let’s go."

nam-gyu nodded, following your lead, his heart hammering in his chest as he picked up the pace. your apartment wasn’t that far.

the apartment was quiet when you stumbled in, breathless, a little drunk, and buzzing with something you didn’t quite know how to name. nam-gyu followed, the door clicking shut behind him as he leaned back against it for a second, exhaling like he was trying to steady himself.

the air between you was thick, charged with a long time of yearning. your heartbeat thrummed in your ears as you toed off your shoes, glancing over at him. he was watching you, the way he always did—like he was already thinking ten steps ahead, figuring out how this was going to play out.

he hadn’t touched you yet. he was letting you decide.

so you did.

you took a step closer, then another, until you were right in front of him, your fingers hesitating before curling around the hem of his jacket. his breath hitched, just barely, and that was all the confirmation you needed.

you pushed up onto your toes, closing the space between you. his lips were warm, the taste of smoke lingering faintly as he kissed you back. he let you set the pace, his hands coming to rest lightly on your waist, thumbs brushing against the fabric of your dress.

it wasn’t the first time you’d kissed, but something about this was different. more urgent. more deliberate. maybe because, for once, there was no stopping this time.

your fingers tugged at his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders. he let it fall to the floor, his hands finally pressing into you properly, gripping your waist, pulling you closer. a quiet sound slipped from your lips, and you felt the way he stiffened at that, his grip tightening.

“fuck,” he muttered, voice rough. he pulled back just enough to search your face, his dark eyes flicking between yours. “you sure?”

you nodded, chest rising and falling with each breath. “yeah.”

a muscle in his jaw twitched. his fingers brushed the side of your neck, then curled around it, his thumb ghosting over your pulse. “we stop if you change your mind.”

you swallowed. “i won’t.”

the look he gave you was unreadable—something dark and determined—before he tilted your chin up, kissing you deeper this time, slower, like he wanted to make sure you felt every second of it.

nam-gyu wasn’t soft—he wasn’t sweet. he wasn’t the kind of man to whisper tender nothings or stroke your hair. he didn’t coddle. but the way his hands moved told you everything you needed to know.

the drag of his fingers down your spine. the slow, deliberate way his palm flattened against the small of your back, pressing you flush against him. the heat in his touch, like he was holding himself back, forcing himself to move slow, to let you set the pace. it sent a shiver through you, and his grip tightened in response, like he felt it too.

you let out a breath, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, and he exhaled sharply against your lips before pulling back just a fraction, enough to look at you properly. his dark eyes roamed over your face, pupils blown, jaw tight.

"you're nervous." it wasn't a question.

you swallowed. "a little."

his thumb brushed against your waist, almost absentmindedly. "yeah. that makes sense."

you let out a small, breathy laugh, but there was an edge of vulnerability to it. he could see it. you could tell.

he tilted his head, watching you like he was trying to figure something out. then he exhaled slowly, his fingers tracing over your skin with a gentleness that was completely at odds with the sharp, rough way he usually carried himself.

"you know i won’t fuck this up, right?" his voice was low, almost casual, but there was something else beneath it. something steadier.

you hesitated for half a second before nodding. "i know." and you did. maybe that was why you'd never let anyone else touch you like this before. because it wasn’t about inexperience, not really. it was about trust.

and god help you, but you trusted nam-gyu.

the realization sent a flush through you, warmth blooming in your stomach as you let your hands slide up his abdomen, tracing the firm lines of chest beneath his shirt. his breath hitched just barely before his fingers flexed against you, like he was restraining himself from just taking.

"you wanna do this?" he asked, one last time, voice rough.

"yeah," you breathed.

his jaw clenched. "then tell me what you want."

you blinked up at him, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that he'd stopped moving, waiting, his hands resting heavy against your hips but not pulling, not pushing.

he was making you say it.

bastard.

you bit your lip, pulse hammering as you tried to work around the knot of tension in your throat. "i—i want you to touch me."

his fingers twitched, his entire body going still for a second. then he let out a breath through his nose, and his grip on your waist tightened.

"yeah?" his voice was just a little lower, a little rougher.

you nodded, heat pooling in your stomach at the way he was looking at you now—like he was barely keeping himself in check.

"get on the bed," he said.

your breath caught.

for a moment, you just stared at him, heart hammering, and then, slowly, you walked to your bedroom, him following you close. you backed up toward the bed, your knees hitting the edge as you lowered yourself down.

he followed, standing at the foot of the bed, watching you with that unreadable expression—half lustful, half like he couldn’t believe this was real. his hands went to his belt, and your eyes flickered down, pulse spiking at the sound of the leather slipping through the loops.

then, instead of undressing fully, he leaned down, hands bracketing your hips, pressing you back against the mattress.

"you ever let anyone touch you like this?" his voice was rough, like he already knew the answer.

you shook your head, breathless. "no."

a low sound escaped him, something dark, something pleased. his hands slipped under your skirt, palms dragging slow over your thighs as he pushed the fabric up. he took his time, tracing the shape of you, pressing just firmly enough to make you squirm.

"you thought about it, though," he murmured. it wasn’t a question. his thumbs brushed the sensitive skin at the tops of your thighs, eyes locked onto yours.

you swallowed hard. "…yeah."

his lips twitched, almost a smirk. "yeah? thought about me?"

your face burned. he was being cruel on purpose, making you say it.

"…yes."

"fuck," he muttered, like the confirmation did something to him. his hands moved higher, fingers hooking into the band of your underwear, but instead of pulling them down, he let them rest there, teasing.

"how’d you think it’d go?" his voice was lower now, almost a growl. "thought i'd just take you fast, rough? pin you down, fuck the innocence out of you?"

you sucked in a sharp breath, thighs twitching beneath his touch. he huffed a quiet laugh.

"bet you didn't think i'd take my time," he murmured, leaning down, pressing his mouth to the side of your neck. his lips dragged over your pulse, then lower, leaving a slow, open-mouthed kiss against your collarbone. "but i like knowing i'm the first one."

you gasped softly as his hands finally moved, slipping under your top, dragging it up inch by inch until he could pull it over your head. your arms instinctively came up to cover yourself, but he caught your wrists, pushing them aside.

"none of that," he muttered, his gaze dropping to your bare chest. he exhaled sharply, running his thumbs along the curve of your breasts before cupping them fully, testing the weight in his palms.

"fuck, look at you," he muttered, voice low and reverent. "so fucking pretty."

you whimpered as his thumbs brushed over your nipples in slow circles. he watched your face the whole time, reading every tiny reaction, every sharp intake of breath.

"sensitive," he noted, almost to himself. then he leaned down, tongue flicking over one peak before wrapping his lips around it, sucking just enough to make you gasp.

heat coiled low in your stomach as he worked, alternating between each breast, slow and thorough. it was overwhelming, the way he was handling you—not rough, not rushed, just taking his time, learning every inch of you.

one of his hands trailed lower, down your stomach, to the waistband of your panties. he paused, looking up at you, waiting.

you nodded, exhaling shakily. "please."

his smirk deepened. "good girl."

he peeled your panties down your legs, his fingers skimming over your skin like he was savoring the moment. you shivered at the sensation, at the weight of his gaze as he settled between your thighs.

“fuck,” nam-gyu muttered under his breath, like he hadn’t been prepared for what he was seeing. his hands splayed against your inner thighs, pressing them further apart, baring you completely to him. he didn’t look away, eyes dark and hungry, his tongue running over his bottom lip like he could already taste you.

your body burned under the scrutiny. you weren’t used to this—being seen like this, having someone take their time looking. you twitched, about to press your legs together, but his grip tightened.

“uh-uh,” he murmured, almost amused. “you’re gonna let me look.”

you swallowed hard, breath catching as he leaned in, his nose brushing the soft skin of your inner thigh. his breath was hot, sending a shiver through you as he exhaled, slow and controlled.

he dragged a single finger up the length of your slit, just enough to make you jolt, to make your breath stutter. "you're soaked, girl. you sure you've never done this before?"

heat surged through you at the teasing lilt in his voice, and you let out a shaky breath. "i—fuck, nam-gyu—"

"yeah?" he smirked, but it wasn’t cocky. it was something else, something almost fascinated. like he was enjoying this in a way he hadn’t expected.

his fingers traced slow, teasing circles over your clit, barely any pressure, just enough to make you whimper. your hips twitched, and his grip tightened, keeping you pinned.

"relax," he murmured, his voice low, almost gentle. "let me make you feel good."

then he leaned down.

you barely had time to register the shift before his tongue was on you, warm and wet and unbearably slow. your breath caught, your fingers twisting into the sheets as his mouth worked you open, his tongue dragging through your folds, lazy and thorough.

"fuck," he muttered against you, his voice rough. "you taste so fucking sweet."

the way he said it sent a fresh wave of heat pooling in your stomach. his hands pressed into your thighs, spreading you wider, keeping you open as he ate you like he had all the time in the world.

it was overwhelming—the way he was licking you, slow and deep, like he was savoring it. like he was getting off on this just as much as you were. his nose brushed against your clit with every stroke of his tongue, and it was too much, not enough, all at once.

your back arched, a desperate sound slipping from your lips. he groaned low in his throat, the vibration sending a shudder through you. "that's it," he murmured, his voice almost slurred against your skin. "let me hear you."

one of his hands slid up, his thumb replacing his tongue on your clit, rubbing slow, tight circles as he pressed his mouth lower, flicking his tongue against your entrance, teasing the edge.

"nam-gyu—" your voice broke on his name, breathless and desperate, and his grip tightened.

"fuck, you sound good," he muttered. his tongue pushed inside you, and the sensation sent a sharp bolt of pleasure up your spine, made your thighs shake.

"think you can take me?" he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. "gotta get you ready for me."

you gasped as he pushed a finger inside, slow and steady, curling it just right. he groaned at the way you clenched around him, his tongue lapping up every reaction, every sound.

"shit," he muttered. "so tight. gonna feel so fucking good."

the words alone made your stomach tighten, the heat coiling low, winding tighter and tighter. he added a second finger, stretching you open, thrusting slow, deep, his tongue still working your clit.

it was too much. the pressure built fast, overwhelming, unbearable. your thighs trembled around his head, your fingers tightening in his hair.

"i—" your breath hitched, your body tensing.

he growled low in his throat, his fingers pressing deep, his tongue flicking faster, relentless. "come for me."

and you did.

the pleasure hit hard, shattering through you, knocking the air from your lungs. your back arched, your body tightening around his fingers, and he groaned against you, drinking in every last tremor, working you through it, drawing it out until you were shaking beneath him, gasping for breath.

only then did he finally pull back, his breath ragged, his lips slick and swollen. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes dark, almost feverish as he looked at you.

"fuck," he muttered, voice rough, almost awed.

he climbed up over you, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, then your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. his hands framed your face, thumbs brushing against your skin, steadying you.

his exhale was sharp, controlled, but his grip on your waist betrayed him—fingers digging in, like he had to hold himself back from wrecking you completely. his forehead dropped to yours for half a second, just long enough for you to feel the way his breath came heavy, ragged.

"you're gonna kill me," he muttered, half a groan, half a laugh, before he pulled back, eyes flicking down your body—like he was trying to commit every inch of you to memory. his fingers traced your thigh absentmindedly, like he still couldn't believe you were letting him touch you.

then he sat back, unbuttoning his jeans.

your breath hitched as you watched him work, his knuckles going white with how tightly he was gripping his belt. the leather slid through the loops with a sharp snap, and your thighs pressed together instinctively at the sound. his lips curled slightly—he noticed.

"don't get shy on me now," he murmured, voice thick with amusement, but he wasn't smirking anymore. no, his expression was darker, sharper. his fingers moved with slow, measured precision as he unzipped his jeans, pushing them down just enough to free himself.

your stomach flipped.

you had no idea what you'd been expecting, but whatever it was—it wasn't this. he was…big. thick. a flush creeping up his shaft, his tip swollen and slick with arousal. you stared, suddenly feeling very aware of your own inexperience, of the way your body still trembled faintly from the orgasm he'd just given you.

nam-gyu noticed.

"yeah?" his voice was rough, teasing, but there was something else beneath it—something dangerously satisfied. his fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, giving it a slow, lazy stroke, like he was savoring the moment. "that nervous?"

you swallowed hard, forcing your eyes back to his face. he looked wrecked, his dark hair falling into his eyes, his mouth slightly parted. his chest rose and fell heavily, like it was taking effort not to just pin you down and take—

"i can take it," you said, before you could second-guess yourself. your voice was breathless but steady, your chin tilting up just slightly in challenge.

his jaw locked.

for a second, he just looked at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips, like he was seeing you—really seeing you—for the first time. then, suddenly, his grip on your waist tightened, dragging you down the mattress until your thighs framed his hips.

"yeah," he murmured, almost to himself. his hand brushed over your stomach, your hip, sliding back down between your legs. his fingers traced your entrance, feeling the way you were still soaked for him. "i think you can, too."

your breath stuttered as he pressed two fingers inside you again, stretching you open. his thumb found your clit, rubbing soft, teasing circles—not enough to push you over, just enough to make your breath hitch.

"nam-gyu—" you gasped, hips twitching under his touch.

his free hand came up, catching your chin, tilting your head so you had to look at him. his eyes were dark, blown out with something almost ravenous.

"you still sure?" he murmured, voice low. "tell me you want it."

your pulse pounded.

you could feel how badly he wanted you, how much effort it was taking for him to hold back. and yet—he still gave you the choice. he was still waiting.

your heart clenched.

"yes," you whispered. "please."

his restraint snapped.

the second your lips formed that word, he was on you—pulling his fingers from your slick heat, gripping himself, pressing the thick, flushed head of his cock right against your entrance. he didn't push in. not yet. instead, he rocked against you, rubbing his length along your slit, smearing himself in your wetness, letting you feel every ridge, every inch of his size before he even tried to fit.

your breath hitched. your nails dug deep into his forearms, your body instinctively tensing.

"relax," he murmured, voice tight, nearly hoarse, like he was fighting against the instinct to just take. his free hand smoothed up your thigh, over the curve of your waist, warm, steady, grounding. "breathe."

you tried. you really did. forced your lungs to expand, to exhale, to let go of the tension gripping your muscles. but the second he started to push in, all that breath stuttered out in a sharp, broken gasp.

it was too much. the stretch, the slow, inch-by-inch burn as his cock forced your body to open around him, to take him. a kind of ache you’d never felt before, raw and overwhelming—too much and not enough, like your body was fighting him even as it craved more.

"fuck," he gritted out, his jaw clenching so tight you could see the muscle jump. his hands flexed against your skin, his entire body trembling with restraint. "jesus, baby—you're so fucking tight—"

your stomach flipped at the words, heat pooling deep in your core. he never talked to you like that. never called you things like that. but now, here he was, panting above you, voice wrecked and reverent, murmuring praise like he couldn’t help it.

after a few seconds, you whimpered, hands gripping his shoulders. "more."

his control broke.

he pushed in, slow but deep, a smooth, deliberate thrust that seated him all the way inside you in one stroke. your breath tore from your lungs, your back arching as the stretch bloomed into something fuller, hotter, the ache curling into something dangerously close to pleasure.

nam-gyu groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. "holy fuck," he rasped, voice wrecked, almost pained. his fingers dug into your hips, like he was holding on for dear life. "so fucking good—you're so tight, so perfect, fuck—"

your pulse pounded in your throat, your entire body thrumming with sensation. there was still a burn, still that overwhelming fullness, but beneath it was something else—something deeper, something good.

you shifted your hips, testing, trying to ease the pressure.

his entire body locked up.

"don't—" his voice was strangled, desperate. his hands tightened, pinning you down. "don't fucking move, or i’m gonna lose it."

every muscle in his body was taut, locked, like a predator barely holding back from sinking its teeth in. his fingers bit into your hips, warning you, anchoring himself—but you could feel it. the way he was shaking. the way his cock twitched, buried so deep inside you you swore you could feel him in your stomach.

you swallowed hard, pulse hammering, skin burning where he touched you.

it was too much. too deep. too thick. your body fought to adjust, pulsing around him in helpless, desperate flutters.

he groaned, low and guttural, pressing his forehead harder into your shoulder like he was in pain. “jesus christ.” his breath was hot against your skin, ragged, almost like he was laughing. “gripping me so fucking tight. gonna break me."

you shivered at the rasp of his voice, your fingers sliding up his back, feeling the strain in his muscles. the raw need in him. you were doing this to him. you, all wet and trembling underneath him, still adjusting, still unsure—and he was losing his mind over it.

you swallowed, tried to steady your breath. "you can move," you whispered.

his entire body tensed.

you barely had a second to register the shift before he pulled back, just an inch, and then—slow, deep—he thrust in again.

your breath shattered. your mouth fell open, no sound coming out at first, just a strangled, breathless whimper.

then, before you could so much as blink, he started moving—pulling out halfway before snapping his hips forward again, setting a rhythm that had your breath stuttering in your throat.

he wasn't just fucking you—he was making sure you felt every inch of him, dragging it out, taking his time. and god help you, but it felt so fucking good.

"shit—" you gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets.

his hand slipped between you, his thumb pressing right against your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. your entire body jerked, pleasure sparking through your nerves like lightning.

"yeah," he muttered, watching you like he was starving. "that’s it. let me see you fucking fall apart."

nam-gyu’s rhythm grew rougher, sharper—his control slipping, his hips snapping forward with a force that had you gasping, clawing at his back. every thick inch of him dragged against your walls, the stretch now molten pleasure, the overwhelming feeling of fullness making your head spin. his body caged you in completely, heat rolling off him in waves, his skin slick with sweat.

"fuck," he rasped, voice ragged, his breath hot against your lips. "listen to you." his thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing tight, deliberate circles. "moaning like that—so fucking needy, aren’t you?"

"fuck," you gasped, your nails raking down his back, desperate for more.

nam-gyu groaned, dropping his head to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "shit, you're taking me so fucking good," he muttered, his teeth grazing over your throat before he kissed you there—open-mouthed and messy, dragging his tongue over your pulse like he could taste how wrecked you were for him. "never had anyone inside you, huh? no one’s ever had you like this—"

his words made your stomach flip, a desperate, aching heat blooming in your core. you shook your head, gasping. "no—"

"fuck, baby," he groaned. "you don’t even fucking know—" his lips found your collarbone, biting down just enough to make you jolt, his tongue flicking out to soothe the sting. "how long i've been thinking about this. how long i've wanted to have my cock inside this pretty pussy."

his hands slid up, gripping your tits, squeezing, kneading the soft flesh in his palms. his fingers flicked over your nipples, rolling them between his fingertips, and you whimpered, the pleasure making you arch into his touch.

nam-gyu groaned, his tongue darting out to trace the swell of your breast before his mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking hard.

"oh my god—" your back arched, your fingers twisting into his dark hair, holding him there.

he chuckled, a low, breathy sound against your skin, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he sucked again, harder this time, drawing a desperate whine from your lips. his hips kept moving, slow but deep, every thrust sending a new wave of pleasure through you, making your stomach coil tighter.

"you're so fucking good," he murmured against your skin, moving to your other breast, giving it the same attention—his lips wrapping around the stiff peak, sucking, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. "so fucking tight, taking me so well—fuck, i knew you would."

you whimpered, the heat inside you winding tight, too much and not enough at the same time. your thighs trembled around his waist, your nails dragging down his back.

"nam-gyu," you gasped, voice wrecked, desperate. "please—"

"please what?" he pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips swollen, his eyes dark, burning with something almost possessive. his fingers slid down between you, finding your clit again, circling it with slow, precise movements. "tell me what you need, baby."

you sobbed at the pressure, at the way it made your body twitch beneath him. "i—i wanna cum—"

his jaw tightened, his thrusts growing sharper, faster, the wet sounds of your bodies moving together filling the room.

"yeah?" his voice was strained, breathless. "you wanna cum all over my fucking cock?"

"yes—yes—"

"then do it."

he pinched your clit, just the right amount of pressure, and the coil inside you snapped.

your orgasm hit hard, crashing over you in sharp, shuddering waves, making your entire body lock up beneath him. you let out a high, broken moan, your walls fluttering around him, pulsing, milking his cock as he fucked you through it.

"fuck—fuck—" nam-gyu groaned, his hips stuttering as you clenched around him, the tight grip of your body dragging him right to the fucking edge.

"shit," he rasped, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, his fingers digging into your hips as he snapped his hips forward, harder, rougher. "gonna—fuck, gonna fill you up—"

your entire body shuddered at his words, at the realization of what he was about to do, and you let out a breathless, desperate "please."

that was all it took.

he came, hard, his body trembling as he filled you, his grip tightening almost painfully as he groaned your name, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath ragged, wrecked.

the heat of him spilling inside you made your entire body tremble.

he didn’t pull out right away. he stayed, breathing heavy, pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your lips. his hands—no longer rough, no longer gripping—slid soft over your skin, smoothing down your sides, your waist, your thighs, as if he was soothing you.

you were still shaking, your body aching in the best possible way, your mind swimming in a haze of heat and exhaustion.

nam-gyu shifted, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. his lips pressed to your temple, then your cheek, then—finally—soft against your lips.

"you’re a fucking dream," he murmured almost to himself, voice soft, like he couldn’t quite believe this was real.

your heart skipped.

then, before you could say anything, before you could think—

his hips rolled again, slow, lazy, his cock starting to harden again inside you.

"think you can handle another one?"

────────────────────────────────────────────

You’d survived another game, and now you lay in your bunk at the very bottom of a stack of five, enjoying a much-needed sleep. The mattress was thin and the blanket wasn’t exactly cozy, but it may as well have been the comfiest bed in all the world simply for the fact that you had survived another day. You were that bit closer to making it out of this.

And yet, your reward was cut short. 

You found yourself being shaken, a firm hand cupping your shoulder and rapidly rocking you from side-to-side, tearing you out of your dreams and back into the harsh reality of the predicament you had found yourself in. The dorm was quiet, still lit by the golden glow of the piggy bank suspended from the ceiling. It wasn’t lights up, not yet. 

“Awh, you awake too?” a voice you immediately recognized as your ally, Nam-gyu’s whispered from the shadows beside your bed. His hand remained on your shoulder, his fingertips lifting the edge of your blanket just a fraction. “It’s kinda cold, right?”

As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and squinted at him in the dark, you noticed the slight shiver in his breath, the way his hand trembled against you. It wasn’t unusual for Nam-gyu to shake, especially when he was coming down from whatever the fuck he and Thanos had gotten into to make it through the day. “You’re cold?”

“Fucking freezing. Move over,” he muttered, his features softening with an endearing tilt of his head. You didn’t need the lights on to know he was pouting, “Please?”

You knew he’d just annoy you until you gave in, so you cut your losses, shuffling over to the edge of the bed and making room for him. Well, as much room as you could– the cot was small, and as he clambered beneath the covers and settled in beside you, it quickly became apparent that there wasn’t room for him at all.

Body-to-body, face-to-face, there was hardly an inch between you. He tucked one arm beneath the pillow, propping up his head. The other hovered as he struggled to find a place for it, letting it dangle above your waist, then down to his thigh, and then up again, tucking it against his chest.

“See, isn’t that better now?” he said, his face just a few inches from yours as his dark eyes– jet black in the night– bore into yours. “I was so fucking cold up there.”

“Your feet are like ice,” you grumbled as his bare toes pressed against your shins. 

He grinned then, mischief sparking in his eyes as he tilted his foot to press his soles squarely on your warm skin. 

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” you hissed, fighting off the instinct to squirm away and instead trapping his feet between your calves. “There. Go to sleep.”

“Mhm.”

You closed your eyes and tried to tell yourself that this was completely normal. The fact that his breath tickled the tip of your nose was fine. That he adjusted his position so that it wasn’t just his ankles, but his calves woven between your legs didn’t mean a thing.

He sighed loudly, contentedly, his head shifting on the pillow beside you. “Mm… you’re so warm. We should do this every night, don’t you think?”

“Go to sleep, Nam-gyu.”

A quiet chuckle sounded beside you, followed by the pressure of his arm, draping across your waist. In the short time you’d come to know Nam-gyu, you’d learned that he placed great value on the concept of personal space… and being up in everybody’s. Not that you really minded. Comforts were hard to come by in the games, and there were certainly worse ways to spend the night. 

You opened your eyes to see his, intently staring, his lips pursed as though holding back a giggle. 

“Now now, Nam-gyu,” you whispered, all too aware of the people sleeping above and around you, “if you wanted to cuddle you should’ve just said.”

He sputtered, a snorting laugh bursting from him that had you clamping your hand over his mouth and trying to stifle your own with the back of your arm. 

“Shut up,” you hissed. “God, you’re so…”

So what? You weren’t quite sure. Concerning, most definitely. Terrifying, yeah… at times. You were definitely glad you were one of the ones in his good books. In fact, he’d saved your life at the expense of two others that very same day. The scarlet staining his shirt was practically pressed to your heart. 

“So…?” he continued, his teeth flashing against the pillow of his lower lip. “So what? C’mon. What am I?”

“Cute,” you settled on, enjoying the way his eyebrows shot up at that. “You know… for a pain in the ass.”

The moment the words left your mouth you regretted them. He lay there, mouth agape eyes wide, “Oh shit, for real? We flirting now?”

“Shut up.”

“We are! We’re fucking flirting. Alright, my turn, my turn,” he whispered, wriggling closer, his finger tips pressed to your lips as if to silence any protest. “You know what you are?”

You shook your head, hoping to appear nonchalant. But your pulse had certainly picked up its pace. 

“Uh-huh. You’re warm,” he said, smirking as if he’d given the smartest and suavest answer possible. God, this fucking guy. But he didn’t stop there. “You’re hot, obviously. Uh… you’re nice. Yeah. Like, out of everyone, you’re the only one who gets my name right every time. Not… like, Nam-su. Or, you know? Asshole. Motherfucker. Or Junkie or whatever.”

He chewed his lip while he waited for you to speak, while you considered your response, while you wondered just how far you were willing to take this. 

Yeah, you were flirting. And you meant it. 

“You're hot too, Nam-gyu,” you said, watching his pretty lips pull into a satisfied smile. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he giggled, covering your mouth with his palm for a moment before pulling it back. “Say it again.”

“What? That you're hot? Nam-gyu.”

“Fffuck…” he whispered, nearly moaning. Tilting his head downward, he pressed his forehead to your chin. The scent of his hair flooded your senses; sweat and blood, and the underlying aroma of him– neither offensive or pleasant but somehow weirdly comforting. Human. “You have no fucking idea what you're doing to me.”

You did. You could feel it brushing against your thigh; growing, twitching just from the sound of his name on your lips. Hard and needy. His arousal stirred yours. 

With heat pooling between your thighs, you lowered your head to whisper in his ear, “What do you think we’d be doing right now if we weren’t in here?”

Those pretty dark eyes shot up to you, his lips slightly parted around a question he seemed to consider. Any other time Nam-gyu spoke first and let his thoughts roll in a while later like an unpredictable storm, but now he was silent. And if his eyes were anything to go by as they danced across your face, his mind was racing. “Huh?”

“What would we be doing right now if we were alone? In your bed…”

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, trembling. Deep ridges appeared between his eyebrows.

“Would we be fucking?”

He nodded. His hips twitched.

“Hard and fast? Or nice and slow?”

“S-slow,” he whispered. “I’d wanna take my time with you.”

It wasn’t the answer you were expecting, and it had you burning up, heat prickling over your cheeks. “Yeah? You on top of me, hm? Pressing me into the mattress.”

“Mhm— fuck…”

“Just your dick?” you asked, adjusting your thigh for him to let him press against it. 

“Huh?”

“How would you get me off? Would you just fuck me with your cock, or—?”

“Tongue,” he ground out, “God, I wanna eat you out so fucking bad. Taste you. Have you pulling my hair while I make you cum.”

“Show me,” you said, near breathless as you lifted your hand to press your fingers against his mouth. 

He was quick to catch on, his eyes falling shut as he parted his lips to tongue and suck your fingertips. A low moan escaped him, the slow rocking of his hips becoming more incessant, more desperate. For a few moments nothing mattered but the dewy heat of his cock rutting against you, the slippery sensation of his greedy tongue flicking over your fingers and making your pussy throb. 

And then his fingers were sliding beneath the waistband of your sweats, lingering just above your clit until you bucked against his hand, making a silent demand to continue. Silent but for gasping breaths and whispered praises. He was damn good with his hands too, his long fingers stroking you deep, the cold silver of his rings pressed against your entrance, the heel of his palm massaging your engorged clit. 

Desperate, needy, Nam-gyu clung to you, shuddering in your arms as he came apart and brought you careening over the edge with him. Swallowing down your moans with slow, hungry kisses that had you forgetting where you were. In those few moments, the world was good. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, that familiar, contagious smile glimmering in the half-light. He raised his fingers to his mouth, lapping at the taste of you like he couldn’t get enough,  “Are we in love?”

You rolled your eyes and he laughed it off, but his words didn’t ring quite so hollow when he fell asleep; warm, curled up with you snoring softly against the crook of your neck, the fabric of your shirt firmly bunched in his hands like he had no intention of ever letting you go.