✦kenz

“please, please, please.”

it’s the only phrase jake seems to be able to get out, because he’s uttered it twelve times within the past five minutes alone. it’s hard for him to say anything else when your hand is moving so painfully slow that he has to blink back tears.

“you can take it, baby. ask for it nicely and i pinky promise i’ll let you cum.”

jake’s stomach tenses, his fingers gripping his shirt to the point the fabric wrinkles. he’s been holding it above his navel for the past fifteen minutes while your hand moves up and down on his slick cock. it’s so good, it’s so good, it’s so good—

“fuck, fuck, mommy—‘m gonna cum!” he squeaks out, the name falling naturally from his swollen lips. it’s so natural, in fact, that it makes him freeze. he opens his teary eyes to meet yours, but you’re already grinning in that way that tells him he’s fucked.

“mommy?”

“shut up,” he groans, tipping his head back against the headboard. your laugh makes his spine tingle and a rush of heat travel its way from his stomach to his cock. it twitches in your hand, oozing precum to make the slide easier on your hand. “please, just… keep going.”

“ask me nicely.”

“i did—“ jake knows arguing gets him nowhere. he sighs, his lips curling downward into a frown. jake pushes his hips forward into your hand, licking his lips. “please, let me cum. i’ll be real good, i promise.” his voice cracks halfway and you know he’s two strokes away from finishing.

“no, do it like before.” his brows kiss together in confusion while his glassy eyes search for some sort of meaning to it in your face. “c’mon. call me mommy.”

his cheeks were previously a pale pink shade from the heat rising in his body, but now they’d become a vibrant shade of red. he opens and closes his mouth like a fish before pressing his lips together tightly and whining. “you can’t be serious—f-fuck!”

“dead serious. go on, jakey.”

he knows you take pleasure in his embarrassment. who wouldn’t with the way the flush spreads to his ears, his lips purse together, and his eyes look at you like he’s pleading for mercy. he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing as if it were trying to show off all the hickey’s you’d left on and around it.

“… don’t make me, baby.” he whispered it so softly, so sweetly, that you almost consider giving in.

but where’s the fun in that?

“i can do this all day, baby. can you?” his lips part to let out a strained moan when your hand speeds up. the slick noises of his cock are so audible it brings him shame. his head hangs, forcing him to watch as his abs contract violently from the pleasure and his cock bobs like its trying to escape your hand.

“baby, ple… oh, fuck.” jake’s head tips back and his brows pinch together. he’s devastatingly beautiful when he’s trying not to give in. “fuck, just…”

your hand slows to almost a stop, making him groan in frustration. how can you be so cruel? he wants it so bad, so bad the tears in his eyes collect at his waterline. oh, this is the best part—his lips begin to curve downward into a frown like it’ll help him hold back tears any better, the bottom one trembling. he sniffles once, twice, then whimpers. as if on cue, the tears fly down his rosy cheeks. some drip straight down to soak his shirt, others follow the route down his chin and to his neck. he’s so pretty you almost let him finish.

almost. your hand resumes its previous speed. he resumes his previous babbling. “please, i cant, i cant, i—oh, shit.”

“it’s only one word, ikeu. you can do it, can’t you?” the encouragement along with the pure need vibrating through his body is enough to make him nod dumbly, his nose tip reddening like a bunny.

“mommy, please. please, please, lemme cum, ‘m so good—fuck, fuck, oh!” he gasps, almost doubling over when you don’t stop. his hand grips your wrist so hard it might leave bruises. after all, he’s just a big strong man who lets you dumb him down.

“‘s so good… mmm—‘m gonna cum. please, can i? f-fuck!” his words are starting to slur together, his saliva pooling at the tip of his tongue. his eyes shut tightly, his hand leaving your wrist to grip the sheets.

“go ahead, baby.” it’s all he needs to hear to spill over your hand.

“mo-mommy, fuck—!” his cum dribbles over his slit, running down the side of his cock and onto the back of your hand. it happens so quickly, he doesn’t know when it started. a loud moan escapes him involuntarily, his jaw goes slack, and his head lolls back against the headboard. he doesn’t have much to give, but he gives all that he has.

he pants, his shaky hand reaching out to weakly grip yours. it’s a complete turn around from his earlier grip, like he’s now tamed. “s-stop, no more…”

“you can give me another.”

jake blinks dazedly. he’s in for a treat, isn’t he?

a/n: blair where were you!!! you all cry out in unison… i Was schooling. and then i lost the energy to write. and then bts went on tour and im ovulating… ALSO im not a mommy kink person but for some reason sub ikeu w a mommy kink speaks to me. originally i wrote this for jungkook so ntm… Jungkook i miss u.

did anyone else see that one sub!koo tiktok…. no? Ok!

Tuesday was supposed to be ordinary.

The kind of day that disappeared as quickly as it arrived. You finished your morning lecture, replied to a few student emails, stopped by the grocery store on your way home because you'd promised to cook dinner. Nothing remarkable. Nothing that hinted your life was quietly approaching a fault line.

The apartment was supposed to be empty.

You remembered that detail clearly later. He'd told you that morning, half asleep, mumbling something about a meeting running until six. You had the whole afternoon to yourself, or so you'd thought, planning the pasta you'd make, the wine you'd open, the ordinary comfort of a Tuesday night at home. 

You unlocked the front door as quietly as always, balancing a paper bag of groceries against your hip. Then you heard laughter. A woman's laugh, low and familiar, drifting down the hallway like something out of a memory you couldn't quite place. For one suspended heartbeat, your mind simply refused to process it 

Then it did. Your best friend.

You took another step down the hallway. The bedroom door wasn't completely closed. It didn't need to be. Some truths don't ask to be witnessed completely. You already understood, before your conscious mind caught up, that whatever was happening in that apartment wasn't meant for your ears. 

The quiet intimacy of two people who had forgotten the rest of the world existed. Neither of them heard it. Or maybe they did. You didn't stay long enough to find out. There were no questions. No tears. No dramatic confrontation worthy of a movie scene. Because what explanation could possibly undo what you'd already seen?. You turned around before they could notice you. The front door clicked shut behind you with barely a sound. 

Two years of engagement, gone.

Two years of wedding plans scattered across your dining table. Two years of apartment hunting, shared grocery lists, lazy Sunday mornings, and conversations about children you thought you'd have someday. 

You don’t remember the walk to your car. You remember sitting behind the steering wheel with the keys in your hand and staring blankly at the windshield as the city morphed into streaks of bright light. It was just a blur of street lamps, head lights, and everything moving around you while your world was standing still. For a brief moment, you noticed that your hands weren’t shaking. You thought that was strange too. The way that your body had just suddenly gone still and cold and you were just as motionless as your body, like a state of shock had frozen you just outside of the situation.

You couldn’t say how long it was, but what you knew was that you suddenly found yourself standing in front of your closet. Your eyes were drawn to what was at the very back and hidden from view, your black dress. You hadn’t seen it for years.

"It's a little too much," he'd once said with an easy laugh.

"Too short."

"Too noticeable."

You remembered smiling then, folding the dress away because it hadn't seemed important enough to argue about.

You pulled it from the closet and let it fall over your body, the fabric cool and unfamiliar against your skin, hugging you in ways you'd forgotten you were allowed to be seen. It felt like putting on a stranger. Someone who wasn't trying to be agreeable anymore. Someone who had nothing left to protect and nothing left to lose.  You left the engagement ring where it was.

After leaving your phone in your purse, you grabbed your keys for the second time and stepped into the dark. You had no idea where you were headed but felt a certainty in your chest about leaving the life you had. You felt like you could not spend one more moment inside the life that no longer felt like it belonged to you.  

.

.

.

Tuesday hadn't given him any warning either.

Jungwon's shift had ended late. A delivery that ran longer than expected, hours stretched thin by complications that weren't anyone's fault, just the unpredictable nature of the job. By the time he clocked out, his scrubs still smelled faintly of antiseptic, his feet aching in a way that had become so routine he barely registered it anymore. All he wanted was his own bed, maybe food he didn't have to think about. 

He let himself into her apartment with the key she'd given him two years ago, the metal worn smooth from years in his pocket, attached to a keychain shaped like a tiny stethoscope. A joke gift from early in their relationship, something she'd laughed about giving him, something he'd kept clipped to his keys ever since without really thinking about why. 

The shower was running. Her tablet was face up on the kitchen counter, screen still lit from a notification. He hadn't meant to look. He told himself that for weeks afterward, though it stopped mattering fairly quickly whether he'd meant to or not.

A name he recognized. A string of messages that didn't need much context. Photos that answered questions he hadn't known to ask. He stood there in his work clothes, badge still clipped to his coat pocket, and read enough to understand that ‘residency's exhausting’ had been covering for something else entirely for months, maybe longer.

He didn't move at all, actually, just stood there in the kitchen with his hands loose at his sides, feeling something inside his chest go very still and cold. He didn't throw the tablet. 

She stepped out of the bathroom in a towel, damp hair pushed back, and stopped short in the doorway when she saw Jungwon standing there. Badge still clipped to his coat pocket, tablet lying face up on the counter exactly where she'd left it. Something in his stillness told her immediately that the evening wasn't going to go the way she'd planned.

"Jungwon?" Her voice came out careful, testing. "You're back early."

He didn't answer right away. He just looked at her, and she followed his gaze to the tablet, and whatever color was left in her face drained out of it in an instant.

"How long," he said. Not a question. A statement in the shape of a question.

"I—" She pulled the towel tighter around herself, a reflexive gesture, like modesty mattered now, of all moments. "Jungwon, it's not—"

"Don't." His voice remained quiet and level, the same tone he used when he had to tell a patient's family something they didn't want to hear. "Don't tell me it's not what it looks like. I read enough."

Her mouth opened, then closed. For a long moment, the only sound in the apartment was water still dripping somewhere in the bathroom behind her.

"How long," he said again.

She sat down slowly on the arm of the couch, like her legs had stopped being reliable. "Since spring," she said quietly. "Maybe a little before that."

"Spring." He turned the word over like he was checking it for a fracture. "Daeun, that's eight months."

"I didn't plan for it to happen." Her voice cracked slightly, and he almost hated how convincing it sounded, how rehearsed and unrehearsed all at once. "We were just–we started as friends, and then residency got so heavy, and you were always working, and he was just there, and I don't know, it just…"

"I was working," he repeated flatly. "Right. Because I have a job that saves lives, and that's the excuse."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" His voice finally rose. "Because from where I'm standing, you've had eight months to tell me. Eight months of me asking if you were okay, if something was wrong, and you telling me it was just residency. Eight months of me believing you."

She didn't answer that. There wasn't an answer that would have helped her.

"Six years," he said, quieter now, almost to himself. "Six years, and I find out like this. Off a notification on your tablet."

"I was going to tell you." Her eyes were wet now, genuinely, and some old, tired part of him almost felt sorry for her, which made him angrier at himself than at her. "I've been trying to figure out how, for weeks, I swear—"

"Don't," he said again, softer this time, because he didn't have the energy left to argue about her intentions. "It doesn't matter anymore. You could've told me in June. You could've told me in September. You didn't." He stopped, pressed the heel of his hand briefly against his eyes, then dropped it. "That's the part that matters."

"Jungwon…"

"I have to go." He was already reaching for his coat.

"Can we at least talk about this properly? Please. Don't just walk out,"

He paused at the door, hand on the frame, and looked back at her.  Tear streaked, still somehow looking for a version of this conversation that ended somewhere softer than where it actually was.

"There isn't a version of this where I stay, and we talk it through.”

"So that's it?" Her voice cracked properly now. "Six years, and you're just leaving? No fighting for it?"

He almost laughed, though nothing about it felt funny. "You didn't fight for it either," he said quietly. "Not for eight months."

He didn't wait for her response. The door closed behind him just shut, quiet and final, the same way the whole relationship seemed to be ending: without the drama it probably deserved, just a soft, ordinary sound marking something enormous coming apart.

He drove without any destination in mind, the radio off, the city sliding past in a blur of red lights, he stopped out of habit rather than attention. Six years. He kept circling back to the number like it might rearrange itself into something smaller, something easier to hold.

He ended up parking outside a bar he'd never been to. Not his usual place near the hospital, where someone always seemed to know his face even without the coat. Tonight, he didn't want to be recognized. He didn't want to be Dr. Yang, careful and composed, the boy faced physician everyone had to double take before trusting. He just wanted to sit somewhere dark and stop being anyone in particular for a while.

He loosened his tie in the car before he went in. Small, useless gesture. It didn't make him feel any less, as something had just been quietly taken from him.

.

.

.

The bar was louder than you expected for a Tuesday, but you didn't care. Noise was better than silence. Silence gave you room to think, and thinking was the last thing you wanted tonight.

By the time the bartender slid your fourth glass across the counter, the sharp edges of the evening had softened. The ache in your chest hadn't disappeared; it had simply become distant, like hearing thunder several miles away.  You shifted on the barstool, crossing one leg over the other. The black dress rode a little higher against your thigh, and for the first time in years, you didn't bother tugging it back down.

He would've hated that. The thought came uninvited. You emptied the rest of your drink before it could linger. 

That's when he sat down beside you. Close enough that you noticed before you even looked. He was handsome. That was your first thought. Your second was that he looked far too young to be sitting alone in a place like this. His white dress shirt was neatly pressed except for the loosened tie hanging around his neck, as though he'd started the evening trying to hold himself together and abandoned the effort somewhere along the way. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, exposing tired hands wrapped loosely around a glass he barely touched.

His gaze remained fixed on the amber liquid, unfocused, like he expected answers to settle at the bottom if he waited long enough. There was something strangely familiar about the way sadness sat on him. You almost didn't say anything. Almost.

You looked away. It wasn't your business. You weren't here to notice strangers. You were here to forget yourself. A minute passed, or maybe two. The bartender asked if either of you wanted another round. Neither of you answered. Without thinking, you let out a quiet breath.

"You look like you got dumped."

The words escaped before you could decide whether to keep them. Your voice came out flatter than you'd intended, stripped of humor, carrying more exhaustion than wit.

He turned toward you. Not offended, just surprised. For a heartbeat, neither of you spoke. His eyes searched your face, lingering there with quiet curiosity, as though he couldn't decide if you were teasing him or speaking from experience. Then his gaze drifted lower to the diamond still resting on your left hand. A ring that caught the warm bar lights just enough to betray you. One corner of his mouth lifted into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"You still have your ring on," he said softly.

You followed his gaze, staring at the diamond as though you'd forgotten it was there. For a long moment, you simply twisted it around your finger.

"I forgot to take it off."

It wasn't entirely true. You hadn't forgotten. You just hadn't found the courage. His eyes met yours again.

"You look like you got dumped too."

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

"I did."

He gave a slow nod.

"So did I."

The words settled between you with the quiet understanding that only strangers could sometimes share. Neither of you asked for details or explanations. For tonight, it was enough to know that the person sitting beside you understood exactly what heartbreak looked like.

He glanced at your empty glass. "Another?"

You shook your head. "I think I've had enough of pretending a drink is going to fix anything."

Something about that made him almost smile, the first real one you'd seen from him all night, small and tired but genuine. "Yeah,me too."

The bartender came by again, and this time Jungwon was the one who waved him off, reaching instead for his wallet. You didn't argue when he paid for both of you. Some nights, you didn't have the energy left to insist on independence.

Outside, the air was cooler than you expected, sharp enough to cut through the haze just slightly. Neither of you moved toward a taxi right away. You just stood there for a moment under the bar's dim sign, the city noise a distant hum around you, both of you clearly aware that the night hadn't decided yet what it wanted to become.

"I don't usually do this," you said, not quite looking at him.

"Do what?"

"Any of this. Bars. Strangers. Standing outside at midnight, not knowing what I'm doing."

"Neither do I," he said. Then, after a pause, quieter, "I don't want to go home yet, though."

You understood exactly what he meant, because you felt the same thing sitting heavy in your chest. Home wasn't home anymore. Home was an apartment with echoes you couldn't bear to hear. Home meant seeing the engagement ring still circling your finger. Home meant admitting that tomorrow would arrive whether you wanted it to or not. For the first time that evening, you really looked at him.

He couldn't have been much younger than thirty, though his face carried an unmistakable softness that made him seem younger than he probably was. His tie still hung loose around his neck, his hair slightly disheveled, exhaustion written plainly across features that were almost unfairly handsome. 

He looked as though someone had reached into his life that morning and quietly removed the future he'd expected. That may be why he looked familiar.

"There's a hotel two blocks from here," you said.

He didn't ask if you were sure. He just nodded, like he'd been waiting for someone to say it first.

Neither of you filled the silence with questions about names, jobs, or the people who had broken your hearts. Some things felt strangely unimportant. Inside the elevator, your shoulders brushed for the first time. Neither of you moved away. 

The door had barely clicked shut before the tension that had been simmering between you in the elevator boiled over. There was no slow buildup, no romantic preamble; there was only a desperate, starving need to feel something other than the hollow ache in your chests.

Jungwon turned to you, his face flushed from the alcohol and the heat of the moment. He looked so young, almost innocent, but the look in his eyes was raw and hungry. He reached out, his hand cupping the back of your neck and pulling you into a kiss that tasted of whiskey and grief. It was a collision, teeth clashing, breaths hitching as you both clung to each other like survivors of a shipwreck.

You groaned into his mouth, your hands sliding up his chest to grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there wasn't a sliver of air between your bodies. He backed you up against the door, the thud of your back hitting the wood echoing in the quiet room. His tongue pushed past your lips, claiming your mouth with an urgency that made your toes curl.

"Please," you whispered against his lips, though you weren't even sure what you were asking for.

He didn't answer with words. His hands slid down to your hips, lifting you effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your skirt riding up to your hips as he carried you toward the bed. He dropped you onto the white linens, his body following immediately, pinning you down with a weight that felt grounding and necessary.

Jungwon’s hands were frantic, stripping away the barriers of clothing. He pulled your dress over your head and tossed it aside, his eyes scanning your naked body with a mixture of awe and desperation. When he stripped off his own clothes, you saw the lean, toned muscles of a man who didn't look his age, his cock already hard and pulsing, straining against the air.

He didn't waste time. He moved between your thighs, his fingers sliding down to find your pussy. You were already soaking, the friction of the night and the emotional turmoil making you ache for him. He slid two fingers inside you, stretching you open, while his thumb worked your clit in a rhythmic, punishing pace. You arched your back, a loud moan escaping you as you neared the edge.

"Look at me," he murmured.

You opened your eyes to see him watching you, his expression a mask of longing. He positioned the head of his cock at your entrance, pausing for a heartbeat before thrusting deep inside you in one heavy, seamless motion.

You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he filled you completely. The sensation was overwhelming. The stretch, the heat, the sudden fullness that silenced the noise in your head. He began to move, his thrusts deep and rhythmic, driving into you with a primal intensity. Each hit of his pelvis against your ass sounded like a wet slap in the quiet room.

"Fuck," he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "You feel so good… shit, so tight…"

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down for another bruising kiss as he picked up the pace. He wasn't being gentle; he was fucking you with a desperation that mirrored your own, as if by driving himself into you, he could push out the memory of the woman who had betrayed him. You met every thrust, tilting your pelvis up to take him deeper, wanting to feel every inch of him.

The friction built, a coil of tension tightening in your lower belly. Jungwon’s movements became shorter, faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He shifted his grip, grabbing your thighs and pinning them back toward your chest to open you up even more. The angle allowed him to hit your cervix with every plunge, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your spine.

"I'm close—" he choked out, his muscles straining.

You felt your own climax rushing toward you, a tidal wave of release. You gripped his biceps, your voice breaking into a series of high-pitched whimpers. As you peaked, your pussy walls clamping tight around him in rhythmic spasms, Jungwon let out a low, guttural growl. He gave one final, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt, and shuddered violently as he came.

You felt the hot, thick jets of his cum pumping deep inside you, filling your womb with a warmth that felt almost spiritual in its intensity. He stayed buried inside you for a long time, his forehead resting against yours, both of you panting, your hearts beating in a synchronized, frantic rhythm.

As the adrenaline faded, the silence returned, but it was different now. The loneliness was still there, but it had been blunted. Jungwon slowly withdrew, the wet sound of his cock leaving your body echoing in the room. He didn't pull away completely; he rolled onto his side and pulled you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin.

Neither of you spoke. There were no names exchanged, no promises of a second meeting. You just lay there in the dim light of the hotel room, two broken strangers sharing a bed, clinging to the fleeting comfort of a night that neither of you would ever forget.

.

.

.

A month passed by.

Long enough for the memory of that night to start to blur at the edges. Sometimes you thought you invented some of it.

You remembered the warmth of whiskey better than you remembered his face. His tie, loosened. How he’d just listened, without asking questions. A pair of tired eyes that had looked at you as if they knew something that nobody else knew.

All else had blurred, melting into the sort of memory that belonged to another version of you. You never came back to the bar. If he did, you wouldn't know it. And if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have known that either. That was maybe how it was always supposed to be. Life went on, as indifferent as ever. 

Life had moved on, in its own stubborn manner. You got out of the apartment. You’d gone and blocked your ex-fiancée’s number. You weren't going to speak to your ex-bestfriend, and you hadn't. It was a mercy in itself. Your students didn't know that anything was different. They looked at you like you were just their lecturer. Untroubled. Unbreakable.

You could almost pretend your life hadn’t fallen apart. For three hours at a time. That was enough. Until it wasn’t. It began on a Thursday. Not with nausea or vertigo. Only a date. 

You were standing in your kitchen, waiting on the coffee machine to finish brewing, when the thought came unbidden. Your monthly. Your brow wrinkled. You counted backwards, almost absentmindedly. Then you counted again. The answer was the same. It's late.

This was not normal.

Your body was always predictable, almost stubbornly so. Even in college, when your roommates complained about irregular cycles and surprise cramps, yours came like clockwork, and you didn’t bother tracking it anymore. You put your coffee mug down, untouched. 

"It's the stress," you whispered to the empty apartment. It must have been. 

It made sense, didn't it? The breakup, the move, months of your nervous system running on fumes. Bodies did strange things under pressure. You'd read that somewhere, or maybe you just wanted to have read it somewhere. 

You gave it a few more days. Then a week. The coffee you'd started craving black suddenly turned your stomach. Smells you'd never noticed before. The neighbor's cooking, the detergent in your own laundry, sent you running for air that didn't feel like it was choking you. 

One day a co-worker came into your office with take out. The smell alone would have you running for the nearest bathroom. You said it was the flu. Food poisoning.  Anything.  All of it. Except for that one possibility that’s silently trailing you from room to room.

By the time you found yourself standing in the pharmacy aisle staring at a shelf of boxes you never had reason to buy before, some quiet part of you, dreading, already knew. 

You stood in front of the shelf longer than you needed to. So many different brands. Different promises. Different prices. As though any of them could deliver a different answer. You bought two.

As soon as you were home, you didn't wait long to do. Sat on the side of the bathtub, phone timer ticking away before you began to look at your hands and realise they weren't even yours.

Two lines. Then two more.

You sat there for a long time after that, the tile cold beneath you, your mind doing the math it didn't want to do.  The date, the timeline, the one night that had blurred into something you'd tried hard to forget. There was only one night it could have been.

Your heartbeat stumbled.

"No..."

The word escaped before you realized you'd spoken aloud.

You remained there for what felt like hours, staring at the tests resting in your hands as though they belonged to someone else. 

There was only one person. One night. One stranger, with tired eyes and a loosened tie and a sadness that had looked so much like your own it hadn't frightened you. You didn't even remember his name. You didn't know his address. What was his work. If you'd ever see him again.  You pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes. A man who existed in your memory as nothing more than tired eyes and a loosened tie, and you look like you got dumped, too.

You didn't know how to find him even if you'd wanted to.

A baby.

The words refused to settle. They hovered somewhere just beyond understanding, too large to fit into the quiet routine you'd been stitching back together over the last month. You were thirty two. Recently single. Still learning how to sleep in an apartment that echoed because there was no one else in it.

You'd spent years building a career you loved, teaching future educators how to nurture children with patience, consistency, and kindness. Ironically, you'd never decided whether motherhood belonged in your own future. You always assumed there would be time to figure it out.

You thought you had more time to decide that. You thought, if it ever happened, it would happen with someone you trusted, someone who'd chosen it with you, not a stranger from a bar whose last name you didn't even know. 

You thought about how easy it would be to end it before anyone had to know it happened at all. No one would ask questions. No one would even know there was something to ask about. You could keep moving forward exactly the way you'd planned, pick your life back up, untangled, unremarkable, the way it was supposed to look after a breakup like this. Clean. Simple.

You sat with that thought for a while, testing its weight, waiting to feel relief.

It didn't come.

Instead, you found yourself thinking about your own mother, who used to tell you that she'd never once regretted having you. Even though your father had left before you turned three. Hardest thing I ever did alone, she'd said once, and still the only decision I never doubted. You'd never fully understood what she meant by that until this exact moment, sitting on a bathroom floor with a truth in your hands you hadn't asked for.

You thought about the years you'd spent in classrooms full of small kids who trusted easily, loved easily, hadn't yet learned that people could hollow you out from the inside without warning. You'd built a career around believing children deserved good beginnings. You wondered, cruelly, whether you were about to fail that belief the moment it became personal.

Then you thought about the alternative. The quiet, empty version of your future you'd have to live with either way. A yes, you might regret, or a no, you were fairly sure you would.

You pressed a hand flat against your stomach, feeling nothing yet, nothing you could point to, and still somehow feeling everything.

A slow breath escaped you.

"I don't need him."

The words were barely louder than a whisper. You said them again.

"I don't."

You weren't trying to convince yourself. You already knew they were true. You didn't need a husband. You didn't need a wedding. You didn't need promises made by someone else to make this decision for you. If this child entered the world, it would be because you chose them. Not because of guilt.

You knew exactly what waited beyond this bathroom door. Questions, whispers and mostly it would be judgment. Forms with blank spaces labeled Father. A future that would be more difficult than the one you'd imagined for yourself. None of that disappeared simply because you'd made a decision. But neither did your resolve.

For the first time since walking into that apartment on Tuesday afternoon, you realized your future no longer felt defined by something that had been taken from you. It was being shaped by something you had chosen. You slowly pushed yourself to your feet and looked at your reflection in the mirror. You looked exhausted. Your eyes were swollen, your hair a mess, your expression still carrying traces of the woman who'd had her heart broken.

But beneath all of that, there was something new. Resolve. You rested your hand over your stomach once more.

"Okay," you whispered to the tiny life only you knew existed.

A faint smile tugged at your lips despite everything.

"It's you and me now."

The words sounded impossibly small in the quiet apartment. Yet,  somehow, they were enough.

.

.

.

The dream came to him three nights in a row.  Always the same, dissolving the moment he woke, leaving only fragments behind the way real dreams rarely do.

In it, he stood in a garden he didn't recognize, thick with fruit trees heavy enough that their branches bent low toward the ground. A woman he couldn't see clearly handed him a single peach, round and impossibly ripe, still warm like it had just been pulled from sunlight rather than a branch. 

He always woke up right after that. Nothing more happened. It didn't need to.

He didn't think much of it, not really. After all, dreams rarely made sense, and he'd learned a long time ago not to chase meaning where there probably wasn't any. Still, on the fourth morning, he found himself mentioning it to Sunoo over coffee in the hospital break room, mostly out of the strange, itching need to say it out loud to someone.

"I keep having this dream," he said, staring into his cup. "Same one, a few nights now. There's a garden, and someone hands me a peach. That's it. That's the whole dream."

Sunoo lowered his own cup slowly, staring at him with an expression somewhere between disbelief and barely contained excitement. "A peach?"

"Yeah."

"Ripe? Whole? Someone handed it to you directly?"

Jungwon blinked at him. "Yes? Why does that matter?"

Sunoo set his coffee down entirely now, leaning forward like Jungwon had just handed him the best gossip of the year. "Do you seriously not know what that is?"

"It's a dream about fruit?"

Honestly, Sunoo never wanted to face palmed himself, but hearing the dumb answer Jungwon gave him got him a reason to. 

"It's a taemong." When Jungwon only stared blankly back at him, Sunoo let out a groan of disbelief. "A conception dream. My grandmother used to talk about these constantly. Fruit, animals, sometimes fire or water, show up in a dream right before someone in the family finds out they're having a baby. Whole ripe fruit like that, handed directly to you? That's about as classic as it gets."

Jungwon huffed, unimpressed, turning his cup slowly between his hands. "You can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious. It's not just some old wives' thing.  Half the moms I know still swear by it. My cousin dreamed about catching a fish barehanded, and two weeks later, she found out she was pregnant. My aunt dreamed about a dragon curling around her arm and had twins."

"That's confirmation bias," Jungwon said flatly. "People remember the dreams that match and forget the ones that don't."

"Sure, sure, very scientific of you, Dr. Yang." Sunoo waved a hand, entirely unbothered by the skepticism. "But you're not the one who usually has these dreams, that's the funny part. It's not always the mother. Sometimes it's the father, or a grandparent, sometimes even a close friend if the dream's strong enough. But if it's the father dreaming it..." He trailed off, grinning now, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "That usually means it's already happened. The universe is just running a little behind on paperwork."

Jungwon rolled his eyes, though something in his chest had gone strangely tight at the words, an unease he couldn't quite explain rationally. "I don't believe in that stuff."

"You don't have to believe in it for it to be true," Sunoo said, entirely too pleased with himself. "That's kind of the whole point of a folktale, isn’t it?"

Jungwon didn't have a response for that. He just sat there, turning his coffee cup slowly in his hands, telling himself it was nothing. Probably just stress, exhaustion, and an overactive mind conjuring strange images after too many back to back shifts. He didn't have a girlfriend anymore. There was no one in his life the dream could reasonably be about.

He didn't let himself finish that thought all the way through.

"It's nothing," he said again, mostly to convince himself. "Just a weird dream."

Sunoo shrugged, tossing his empty cup toward the trash with practiced ease, clearly unconvinced but willing to let it go. "Sure. Just a weird dream."

Jungwon didn't think much more of it after that. Not consciously, anyway. But the image stayed with him regardless, lingering somewhere quiet at the edges of his following days.  A garden, a peach, and a stranger's hands offering him something he hadn't known, yet, that he was already holding.

.

.

.

The clinic wasn't one you'd been to before.

A coworker had recommended it months ago, so excited about the obstetrics department that you'd written the name down without a second thought. It was near campus, near enough to squeeze in an appointment between lectures without sacrificing half your day to traffic.

You wish. That was it. Comfort. Distance from your former life. A doctor who didn’t know your story. Somebody who would see one more first time patient. That's all.

You sat, one leg bouncing under your chair, fingertips tracing the edge of the bracelet wrapped loosely about your wrist. You'd practiced the appointment on the drive over. If they asked about the father, you would tell them as you have been rehearsing it in your mind. 

We're not together.

If they pressed further, then—

I'd rather not discuss it.

Simple.

"Y/L/N?"

A nurse called your name, and you followed her down a hallway that smelled like antiseptic and lavender hand soap, into a small exam room with a poster of a fetal development chart on the wall that you deliberately didn't look at too long.

"Dr. Yang will be with you in just a moment," the nurse said, and left you there with your paper gown and your racing thoughts.

You didn't think anything of the name. Yang wasn't uncommon. You sat on the edge of the exam table, hands folded in your lap, running through the questions you wanted to ask — due dates, next steps, whether the exhaustion you'd been feeling was normal or something to worry about.

Then the door opened.

"Good afternoon, I'm Dr. Yang Jung—"

The sentence didn't finish. It just stopped, cut clean in half, the way a record scratches when the needle's yanked away too fast.

You looked up. And your whole body went cold.

He remained frozen in the doorway, one hand still curled around the handle like he'd forgotten how to let go of it. The patient chart in his other hand slipped slightly in his grip, not enough to fall, just enough that you noticed his fingers had momentarily stopped remembering their one job. Recognition moved across his face almost instantly, undisguised, unrehearsed, nothing like the practiced composure a doctor was supposed to walk into a room with.

The overhead lights were full on him now. Clinical, unfriendly, not like the dim gold haze of that bar a month ago. No booze to take the edge off. No shadows to hide the details And you couldn’t miss him. Same face. Same eyes that witnessed you break against a hotel room door. Quiet and searching, in a way that had seemed to him that night the only honest thing left in the world. Except the face was on a man in a white coat. A stethoscope draped around his neck. His name stitched in careful navy thread over his heart.

Yang Jungwon.

Neither of you said anything. The seconds stretched, thin and unbearable, the fluorescent hum of the room suddenly deafening in the silence. As if hoping he was mistaken. He wasn't.

"...You?"

It barely qualified as a word. More breath than voice. Your mouth had gone completely dry. The sentence never got a chance to finish. Neither of you needed it to.

You weren't doing much better. Your hands had grown cold, and sat in your lap, fingers pressed together hard enough to leave imprints. The paper gown crackled a little with each too-quick breath. You’d spent a month talking yourself into believing that night belonged to some other you, reckless and grieving and gone by morning. And here he was, a white coat, a stethoscope around his neck, his name stitched over his heart, undeniably real, undeniably the same man.

Neither of you said anything. 

His gaze dropped. Not to the chart. To your left hand. The engagement ring was gone. Then, almost involuntarily, his eyes moved lower. To the file tucked beneath his arm. He looked at your name. Gestational age. Estimated conception date. The room became impossibly quiet. His jaw tightened. Not because he was calculating. Because he already had. He didn't need the dates. He remembered the night. The chart simply confirmed what he already knew.

he genuinely thought you were oblivious to his whole.. predicament. but you had never been more sure of anything in your life. you noticed the pink cheeks, the tent in his sweats, the things he'd mutter during sex:

"make you a mama.."

"gonna fill you up so good.."

"fuck, please take this.."

you weren't stupid, and he wasn't very subtle either. it was endearing how the supposed 'scary boss' could be reduced to such a sap when it came to conceiving.

a week later, he'd just finished an especially long day at work, the fatigue clear on his face. for once, he wasn't in a rush to undress you and push you down on the bed. instead, he grabbed your wrist wordlessly and walked lazily to your shared bedroom. you waited, but he didn't give you any commands like he usually did.

"need you, baby." finally, something familiar. except there was no authority in his voice, just surrender. the gears shifted in your mind. lee heeseung.. wanted you to initiate this? oh, you were absolutely going to abuse this opportunity.

"strip," you say this time. he obeys without question, shrugging his blazer off and unbuttoning his shirt.

when he was bare from the waist up, your fingers grazed the fastening of his pants, toying with the zipper and grinding the bulge against the heel of your palm. he let out a shudder. you undid his belt, tossing it onto the floor where it landed with a metallic thump and slid his slacks down his legs.

he hummed, low and knowing. "i remember wanting to try something with that.." he says, eyeing the belt you just discarded. you knew that tone all too well. seems like your reign of dominance was short lived.

your clothes disappeared one by one, all but your panties, which he hastily shoved aside. he hissed and bit his lip at the sight of your glistening entrance.

"look at that.. gorgeous." he emphasized his words by running his middle finger along the slippery slit. "so fucking wet for me.." you try to rub against his finger, desperate for contact, but he pulls away with a chuckle. "wait, sweetheart."

with that, he kicks off his boxers and grabs the belt from the floor. "hands and knees, baby." you settle into the familiar position, quietly aware of what's coming. heeseung groans as his hand wraps around his dick, pumping himself a couple times. "you just tell me if it hurts, mkay?" you nod.

he glides his thumb over the beads of precum on his tip and spreads your legs before plunging in. you moan at the lack of prep but take it regardless. a few seconds later, there's a harsh sting on your ass, one much harder than just his palm. you whimper in both pain and pleasure, the dual sensation of his thrusts and the belt ecstatic.

when you show no signs of discomfort, he leans down – pressing his chest against your back – and kisses the spot under your ear. "taking it so well, taking me so well.. m'gonna give you my kids tonight. i promise." you nod mindlessly, your senses completely overwhelmed in the best ways.

he sits back up and grips your hips, pushing you back to match his erratic pace. heeseung's whispered curses are the only sound in the room besides the slapping of skin and the occasional creak of the bed. you bite your lip to stay quiet, hands clawing frantically at the sheets for some sort of grounding. his cock pressed against all the right spots inside you and you teetered closer to the edge with every passing second.

"hee.. gonna cum-" before the words finish leaving your mouth, his pace doubles in speed.

"me too, baby. m'so close." your eyes roll back, back arching as you finish with a borderline pornographic moan. his hips thrust a hoarse yelp is ripped from his throat as he spills his load deep inside you. both of you don't move, just panting against each other and coming down from your highs.

heeseung gives you a shallow thrust before pulling out completely and flopping down on the bed next to you. the belt lays forgotten as the foot of the bed as he pulls you against his chest, kissing you gently all over your face. "so perfect for me.. my perfect girl." almost like a habit, his hand rests on your lower stomach, unthinkingly rubbing the skin like he can already imagine the life blooming in there.

in a rare moment of vulnerability, he buries his face in your neck and mutters: "why aren't you pregnant yet..?" your eye twitches when his voice cracks. "i've been filling you up for weeks now.. just give me a baby, please."

your fingers tangle in his hair, scratching his scalp lightly and kissing his hairline. "it will happen soon, baby. we can keep trying." he nods but it was almost unconvinced, like he already felt defeated.

it wasn't until a week later when you both realized how wrong he was.

you woke up on sunday morning feeling like absolute shit. extreme nausea and vomitting, a deep ache in your bones that didn't want to go away no matter what painkillers you took. of course, heeseung was there for you; holding your hair back as you crouched over the toilet, or running off to the pharmacy, but a part of him was silently praying that this was he thought it was.

he returned from the pharmacy ten minutes later, finding you right where he left you in the bathroom. he passed you some pills he bought and.. a pregnancy test. you looked up at him. "seriously? do you think..?" he nods.

"it's worth a shot." he steps out of the bathroom, giving you privacy to do the test. the door opens a couple minutes later, the stick laying on the counter. "results in three minutes," you whisper. while waiting, you quietly admit: "my period was due four days ago." his breath hitches right as the timer he set on his phone goes off.

two lines.

the tears filled in both your eyes before you could stop them – heeseung fell to his knees right in front of you, forehead resting against your stomach. he kissed the spot multiple times, muttering hushed thank yous.

and that's exactly how you ended up here: eight months pregnant with a heeseung that would rarely leave your side. the aforementioned side effects of baby fever he was suffering from had intensified tenfold. even in pregnancy, he still made sure you felt good.

he would spend hours going down on you, head buried between your thighs thanking you for the best gift he's received. even when you'd already cum three times and you begged him to stop, he stroke your hipbone, coaxing another orgasm from you while whispering: "one more. i know i can do it, baby." but it would never be just one more.

your body's curves became accentuated with the extra weight, only fueling his obsession with your tits. he'd come up behind you while cooking or washing dishes and cup the plush flesh in his hands. when he's going to bed? you know his hands will be on them by morning.

he took as many days off from work as possible (which was a lot considering he's his own boss) to stay at home with you, cooking for you, massaging you, or comforting you when you felt especially sick. honestly, you couldn't ask for a better partner.

and when it was all over? your little boy, heejae, was finally in your arms. albeit exhausting, the first few months were the best months of your lives. heeseung took a.. very extended paternity leave and was at home 24/7. he helped with the baby a ton, but he was a bit distracted at times.

"nngh- fuck! i could stay here forever.." he had successfully found a new target on your body – your breasts. the same ones that he worshipped before were now swollen, tender, and always leaking. god, it was even better in front of him that it was in his fantasies. currently, his face was shoved in your chest, sucking and toying with your engorged nipples, hand stroking himself furiously.

"mmmh, putting that baby in you was the best thing i've ever done, shit-!" his orgasm crashes over him hard, cum shooting onto your stomach with a throaty groan. you just bite your lip in response. recovering from his haze, he gives you that smug half smirk before collecting his release onto his fingers and shoving it into your mouth. when you part your lips to show him you swallowed, he rewards you with a series of gentle kisses.

"i love you so much," he murmurs.

"mm, love you too, hee."

when he wasn't busy getting off and remembered he actually had fatherly duties, he was pretty useful. he would clean up spilled food, bathe, and even change diapers. he made sure he was there for all the firsts: first steps, first words..

"yn! he just said dada!" when you rushed over, heeseung cooed for his boy to say it again. "heejae, say it again. daaaaa.. daaa.." he just babbled again before saying something that sounded dangerously close to mama. heeseung deadpans.

"no, i'm serious! he said it before." you laugh.

"whatever you say."

heejae was only six months old when heeseung decided he wanted more. one evening, after tucking heejae into his cot, heeseung found his hands roaming your breasts and stomach again, a habit he'd developed during your pregnancy.

"hm?" you hum, prompting him to explain the affection.

"nothin'. just think about how amazing heejae is. wouldn't kill to have another one, right?" as if trying to sway your answer in his direction, his lips found your neck, peppering little kisses and sucking light hickeys onto the skin that's been unmarked far too long.

you sigh. "he's not even a year old, hee."

he whines. "fuck, please. i need to fill you up again, please, baby," he begs.

you almost crack a smile while your fingers trace his face and trail down his chest. "maybe."

you see his eyes darken in a split second. he lunges forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

"let's make one more, then."

it was a long night.

an: i've tweaked 17 times today he did that backshots dance and his titties out?? like yes

‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎© piercedjake july 2026 ‎‎ ⋆˙⟡

You tilted your head back on the bed, moaning as you ran your fingers through your folds, wet sounds filling your room.

The red recording light of your laptop blinked in front of you, pointing directly at the spot where your fingers dipped into your entrance and cutting off above your bare chest. You never showed your face.

The friction sent jolts of pleasure down your back, the tight coil of heat between your legs growing with every second. 

Your free hand gripped the sheets, fingers turning white as you felt your climax approaching. You put your thumb on your clit, rubbing fast and hard circles as your orgasm crashed over you, drawing a silent gasp from your lips as your mouth dropped open. 

You arched on the bed, your breasts bouncing as you collapsed onto the mattress with a spent thud. Your breaths were ragged as you panted, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds before sitting up and ending the recording. You dragged it to your drafts folder before closing your laptop and heading for the shower.

After half an hour of edging yourself on camera, you were always a sticky mess. But it was all worth it for the money. Three weeks on OnlyFans, and you were already halfway to the 1k you owed your parents for fucking up your dad's car. You had insisted that a cat ran in the road, and you just had to swerve, but your older brother Jay smelled the weed on your breath before you’d even finished your carefully constructed cover story. He’d sold you out without a second thought, almost as angry as your parents at your recklessness.

They said you were an embarrassment, a damper on the Park name. But you knew from the tinge of fear in your mother's eyes that they were mostly just scared. Scared that they could have lost you.

You swore that you’d never do it again, but it wasn’t enough. So your dad decided the best way to learn would be to take it out of your bank account. The only problem? You were hopelessly broke.

As much as you were embarrassed to admit it, you had always relied on your parents' money. While your friends all held part-time jobs in high school, you would go to the mall, dragging Jay around to buy the newest designer purse or jar of face cream you didn’t need.

And now you were months away from going to college, and after the car situation, your parents made it painfully clear they were done spoiling you. 

So you tried. You tried looking for a job, handing in your meagre resume at fast food places and clothing stores. But no one ever called you back, and you were starting to think you’d be living at home for the rest of your life.

But then, one night, at 12:23 AM, you were staring at your phone, scrolling through Instagram comments, when you saw them: a strand of those sex bots begging for followers.

A light bulb went off in your head like a spotlight, and you looked down at yourself in your oversized shirt and underwear. Why work when your best source of income was right in front of you? Your body.

By 1:00 AM, you had made an OnlyFans account, and by 2:00 AM, you had posted your first video, your skin hot and flushed after touching yourself. You watched as subscribers and tips flooded in, and by the end of the week, you had $200 in your bank account.

It shocked you how easy it was. Play with your tits, do a bit of moaning, and bam, money. 

Men were so easy.

But after a few days, you noticed that one particular account kept popping up in your feed. It always left the biggest tips and was one of the first viewers to pop up on every video. The username was simple, designed like it was meant to blend into the background: zedlover01

You didn’t think much of it; it made sense that people would have favorite creators as they do on any social media site. But you couldn’t help but be curious. Who was he? A 40-year-old man in his mom’s basement? A run-of-the-mill pervert? Or maybe he was like you, a college kid looking for a bit of a thrill.

You were sitting on the couch in the living room, brainstorming ideas to spice up your content, when the front door opened.

Jay’s voice filtered into the room, accompanied by the voices of his annoyingly attractive college friends, Jungwon and Heeseung. 

You’d always crushed on them in that quiet, thrilling way, blushing if they met your eyes too long, stomach fluttering if they said your name a certain way. It helped that they were sweet, especially Heeseung. He’d always ask if you wanted to join whatever game they were playing on the TV, if you wanted a ride somewhere, or if you wanted him to make you an extra ramen packet. Every time, his warm eyes would brush over you like gentle lapping waves on a beach, making your legs feel weak under you.

You wondered how they’d react if they knew what you did in your room every night.

“Hey y/n!” Jungwon said, plopping onto the other couch next to Jay. “How’s the job search?”

You pursed your lips, keeping your expression neutral. Of course, Jay had told them. The day Jay kept a secret from Jungwon would be the day you won the lottery.

“Ok, I’m still looking.”

Heeseung sat on the couch next to you, keeping one cushion spaced between you. “My brother works at the dollar store by the mall. I could ask him to recommend you.” 

His gentle voice swept over you, making you feel strangely relaxed. You smiled politely. “Thanks, Heeseung, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jay snorted from across the room. “y/n wouldn’t be caught dead in a dollar store. Her tastes are way too expensive.”

You glared at him. “That’s not true! Dollar stores are…nice.”

“Have you even been in one before?” Jay asked, his eyebrows raised.

You looked down at your lap. “No…”

Jay smiled. “I rest my case.”

Heeseung chuckled. “It’s ok, y/n, no pressure at all, just thought I’d ask.”

“No, no, I really appreciate it; I’m just…keeping my options open.”

For just a second, something on Heeseung’s face shifted. His eyes narrowed, an almost imperceptible flicker of knowing behind his pupils, as if—just briefly—he could see right through your lie. But then it was gone, and his easy smile returned. “Of course, I understand.”

Pretty soon, the boys had shifted to playing games. Jay pulled up Mario Golf, fitting, since the other unspoken part of your punishment was going to the course with Jay a few times a week. Your parents called it ‘sibling bonding time,’ clearly meant as a way to tame your delinquent brain, as they hoped to have your brother's sense of responsibility rub off on you. (although they didn’t say that last part out loud).

Like always, Heeseung offered you a controller, but you declined, not wanting to embarrass yourself any more times than you could control in front of him. When you played with Jay, you always ended up hitting the ball into the bunker.

The three of them took turns swinging with their Joy-Cons, the room filling with a mix of curses and celebrations as the balls either completely missed the hole or flew straight towards it. 

Heeseung was surprisingly good, and every time he stepped up to swing, your eyes traveled from the flex of his bicep up to the focused intensity in his eyes, his hair falling softly over his forehead.

He’d swing and get his ball right next to the hole, causing Jay to groan and Jungwon’s eyes to widen. Then he’d turn around, a laugh stumbling from his lips as he met your eyes. You would nod at him with an equally giddy smile, finding its way onto your face, and for just a second, you swore his gaze dropped down to your lips.

It was so brief you thought you’d imagined it, but the damage was done, and a swell of heat traveled up your neck as he sat back down next to you, the single cushion between you suddenly feeling way too small.

As you watched Jay and Jungwon take their turns, you realized you were hyperaware of Heeseung’s movements. You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing over every time he ran his fingers through his hair or bounced his leg, making the couch tremble under you. You just kept wondering how soft his hair was, or how much you wanted to bounce on his lap…

You inhaled sharply, wiping the image from your mind. This was not the time to be having fantasies about your brother’s best friend. 

But Heeseung noticed. 

His Bambi eyes flicked over your face, watching the way you pursed your lips and shifted in your seat. Even though you felt his gaze like a brand on the side of your face, you didn’t look at him, instead forcing yourself to watch the screen, letting Luigi’s disappointed face distract you from the needy pressure between your legs.

Then, Heeseung stood up for his last turn. He got into position, chest turned towards you, and face tilted towards the screen as he readied his shot. While the others held their breath as they looked at the screen, your gaze lingered on the slight parting of his lips, wondering how they’d taste.

Jay’s voice cut through the room. “Let’s go, zedlover01.”

You watched Heeseung’s entire body go still.

It took a few seconds for the familiarity of the name to click, but when it did, you momentarily stopped breathing.

Slowly, you raised your eyes to Heeseung’s. He had been staring at you, clearly assessing your reaction, but the second he saw the cold shock of realization on your face, he tore his eyes away like your gaze burned him. 

The action alone ruled out any coincidence. 

He glanced at Jay. “Don’t call me that.” 

Jay cocked his head, clearly confused. “But it’s your name; you use it on every game we play.”

“Is Heeseung Hyung embarrassed?” Jungwon said teasingly, noticing the line of red creeping up Heeseung’s neck.

He ducked his head, jaw tight as he looked at the screen. “Just…let me focus.”

The boys went quiet, shooting each other bewildered glances. 

You were staring at your lap, a roar of emotions running through your head that you weren’t sure how to acknowledge. Heeseung—your brother’s best friend, the boy you’d been crushing on for half of your life—had been watching you fall apart in front of a camera for weeks. And not just watching, but paying, obsessing, treating your videos like the newest episodes of his favorite show.

He’d seen you naked, he’d heard your moans, and he’d liked it. 

If Jay ever found out, he’d murder both of you. Heeseung out of anger, and you out of disappointment.

But what Jay thought was the least of your concerns. Because now Heeseung was sitting back down on the couch after he botched his shot, his cheeks the same shade as his pink hair as he scraped his palms up his thighs. 

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, the space between you so thick with tension you thought you could cut it with one of Jay’s specialty knives. You had to escape; you had to get away from him. Just to get one second to catch your breath and process everything away from your brother's watchful gaze. 

So while Jungwon was taking his shot, you moved. You slipped off the couch and headed straight for the bathroom, feeling Heeseung’s eyes on you the entire time. Your surroundings were a blur as you moved through the house, and the second your feet hit smooth tile, you shut the door behind you, leaning your back against it and breathing deeply. 

The sounds of your panting echoed through the large bathroom, the quiet helping to calm the rapid beating in your chest. You closed your eyes, imagining Heeseung’s gentle smile curved into a silent gasp as he watched you touch yourself. You imagined him sitting with his back propped against his headboard, fingers running over his shaft as he listened to you—the girl he’d practically grown up with—fuck herself on her bed. And here he was, talking to you like nothing had changed, even though everything had. 

You cursed as you realized that just thinking about it made you wet.

A familiar, needy heat gathered between your legs, making your finger tremble as you thought about relieving yourself. You couldn’t deny that Heeseung’s face had popped into your mind a few times as you filmed—nothing detailed—just glimpses. Flashes of his hand or his warm smile, sinking into a smirk as he ran his hand up your thigh. 

You forced yourself to your feet, trying to ignore the aching pressure as you splashed some water on your face.

That’s when a gentle knock sounded at the door.

“Hello?” You said.

A soft voice sounded from the other side. “It’s me.” He paused, then added like an afterthought. “Heeseung.”

You sighed. Of course, it was him. You wanted to tell him to go away. To go back to his friends and pretend none of this ever happened. But the way his voice made your panties dampen said otherwise. You dried your face, and before you could stop yourself, you were reaching for the door.

The second you turned the lock, he was slipping inside, closing it behind him with a firm click, his back leaning against the polished wood as he stared at you.

You felt like you were looking at a different person. Gone was the polite smile and the caring eyes, replaced by a firm stare and barely contained desperation. 

“y/n, listen, I found your account by accident, and I didn’t even know it was you until a few days later…” He trailed off, eyes drifting to your lips like they were hypnotizing him. “Then I just couldn’t stop.”

Your breath caught, the ache between your legs pulsing like a reminder.

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I wanted to, but I didn’t really know how without freaking you out.”

“I’m not freaked out.”

“You aren’t?”

You snorted. “Well…maybe a little. I’m just surprised.”

He sucked in his bottom lip, looking at you shyly. “In a good way?”

The words made your stomach flip. You bit back a smile. “How’d you know it was me?”

Heeseung stepped towards you, fingers twitching at his sides as if he wanted to touch you but wasn’t sure he should. He smiled softly. “The Weeknd poster above your bed. The bottom half was showing in one of your videos, and I recognized it instantly.”

Your eyes narrowed, but a smile tugged at your lips. “How do you know I have that poster? Are you sneaking around my room?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Jay went in to grab your hairdryer or something one time, and I might have taken a peek.”

You gasped, putting your hand on his chest and shoving him slightly. “You creep.” But there was no venom in your voice, and you didn’t pull back your hand.

Heeseung looked down at it, his eyes darkening slightly. 

You felt his heartbeat against your palm and could swear it was speeding up with every second. 

His hand drifted up and rested over yours, holding it against his chest. He looked at you, his eyes searching. “When I realized it was you, something…changed.”

You bit your lip, the air in the bathroom humming with the tension. “How so?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every time I closed my eyes, I heard the sounds you made in those videos, and wanted nothing more than to be the one causing them.”

You exhaled slowly, unknowingly moving closer to him.

He continued. “When I heard about the accident, I told myself I was giving you money to help you out, but I never skipped a single upload.” Heeseung’s other hand cupped your face, tilting your chin up so you were meeting his eyes. “It’s like you unlocked a part of myself I didn’t know was there, and now that it’s awake…I don’t know if I can ignore it.”

He was so close that your breaths mingled in the air, intertwining like twin flames. The pressure in your core was so intense that you could feel your inhibitions slipping away, fading until the only thought in your head was Heeseung’s lips.

“What if I don’t want you to ignore it?”

Heeseung made a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan, his eyes glassy and dark. “Don’t say what you don’t mean y/n.”

“Heeseung, just kiss me.”

His lips crashed onto yours before you could blink, and just like that, everything vanished. You didn’t think about Jay and Jungwon being in the other room, or what it meant to kiss your brother’s best friend; there was only Heeseung: his mouth, his hands. They roamed over you like they’d been reaching for you as long as they could move, your skin tingling wherever he touched. 

Your lips moved together in a desperate clashing of teeth and tongue, and when his hand found your waist and a soft moan escaped your lips, he swallowed it, enveloping your mouth under his with claiming intensity. 

He moved you until your back hit the sink, and braced himself against the counter with one hand while the other moved up to tangle in your hair. Heeseung kissed you like he was sick, and your lips were the antidote, smiling as you moaned into his mouth. 

He pulled back to bury his head in your neck. “Your sounds are so beautiful, baby. I never want them to stop.”

“Heeseung!” You gasped. The coil of heat between your legs was twisted so tight you wanted to cry. It wasn’t a question anymore. You needed him, and you needed him now. “Heeseung, please, need you inside me.”

You felt him still against your neck, and he leaned back to press his forehead against yours, eyes glazed as he panted. “Are you sure? Once I start, I can’t promise I’ll be gentle.”

You nodded, channeling every bit of need into your voice you could muster. “I’m sure, Hee, it hurts so bad.”

He smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Ok, baby, I’ll help you; don’t worry.” He tugged at the zipper on his jeans, groaning as his erection sprang free, a drop of pre-cum already gathering at the tip.

Your eyes widened at his size, and just the image of him filling you up made you whimper. 

Heeseung’s hands found your waistband, pulling down your shorts and panties in one fluid motion. He cursed when he saw your glistening lips, already soaking wet and aching for him. 

“How long have you been like this?” He breathed.

“All day. The second you walked in the door, I was wet for you.”

“Fuck.” He hooked his hands under your thighs and lifted you onto the counter, your bare ass hitting the cold surface, sending a shock up your spine. He gripped your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. “As much as I love hearing you, you need to be quiet ok? If your brother hears us, we’re dead.”

You ran your hands up his chest, the pressure so dizzying you could barely hear him. But somehow, you choked out a yes, and finally, torturously, he aligned himself with your entrance.

When he pushed into you, you had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from moaning. You buried your face in his neck, taking in air in shallow gasps as you fought to stay quiet. The way he filled you was agonizingly good, eons better than using your own fingers on camera. You had no words to describe it, nothing to say except his name as you murmured it into his ear over and over again: “Heeseung, Heeseung, Heeseung…”

When he finally bottomed out, he stopped and sighed, breathing in time with you as he brushed sweaty strands of hair out of your face. “Still ok?”

“Yes.” You breathed, “more than ok.” You tangled one of your hands in his pink hair, pulling him into a messy kiss as your hips trembled under his grasp.

He groaned, melting into your touch, and as his tongue slipped into your mouth, he moved. It wasn’t gentle; it wasn’t testing; it was brutal. 

Heeseung pulled out almost fully before slamming back into you. You couldn’t stop a choked sob from ripping out of your throat, but he was ready. He put his hand behind your neck and kissed you hard, creating a sealed chamber with your mouths that muffled every sound. He moved against you mercilessly, the friction of his shaft scraping against your walls so overwhelming you thought you were going to pass out.

You clutched at his shoulders, feeling the lean muscle flex under your fingers as you searched for something to ground you. He moaned as your thumb drifted over his nape, sending a fresh wave of pleasure down your back.

Somehow, you were being quiet, with your muffled moans mostly drowned out by the slapping of skin and the squelch of your juices around his cock. 

But you weren’t done, the coil in your core still being twisted to its limit. You hooked your legs around his back and pulled him closer, causing both of you to groan into each other's mouths as the angle deepened. 

You could feel Heeseung’s thrusts getting shaky, his breathing more ragged, and you knew he was close. You began to grind against him in tune with his thrusts, your bodies rocking against each other in a filthy image.

Heeseung’s groans turned into desperate whimpers as you rocked against him, and you disconnected your lips as his thrusts became a rapid chase, both of you breathing hard as you held on to each other.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He said, his eyes wide and wrecked. “Like you were made for me.”

You were too far gone for words and were halfway through saying his name when your orgasm swept over you. It was like the breaking of a dam, a rush of wetness dripping between your legs as your walls clamped down with a sudden snap.

Heeseung buried his face in your neck to muffle his moan as he came apart after you, his back spasming as you milked him dry. You held onto him through it, kissing his sweaty neck as your bodies trembled and twitched together, still connected as a sticky mess tumbled down between you.

His hands braced the counter around you as his breathing slowed, and for a few seconds, you stayed there, existing in the moment when you’d crossed the line and become as close as your bodies allowed. 

Then Heeseung pulled out of you, exhaling sharply as he left the warmth of your walls. Without a word, he grabbed some toilet paper and started cleaning you, his soft hands brushing down your thighs as he sopped up every drop of his cum. 

When he was done, he stepped between your still-open legs and kissed you. This time, the kiss was gentle and sweet, full of possibilities and an uncertain future. You felt a stirring in your gut, but it wasn’t arousal; it was excitement. Anticipation for a relationship you had yet to consider, and a life that now felt more livable with Heeseung in it. 

Suddenly, nothing felt impossible.

He smiled as he pulled back, eyes tracing your face like he was trying to memorize it. “Would it be bad if I said I’m glad you messed up your parents' car?”

You laughed. “Maybe a little?”

He kissed your nose. “Even if it led me to you?”

“I’ve always been here, Hee.”

“But you weren’t mine.”

You smiled, studying the face of the boy who’d always been familiar but now felt like home. “Is that dollar store job still on the table?”

He tilted his head, a strand of hair falling over his eye. “You actually want it?”

“Well, I can’t really keep doing OnlyFans…”

Heeseung leaned into your arms, burying his head in your chest and wrapping his arms around your lower back. You could feel his grin against your shirt. “I’ll call my brother tomorrow.”

You giggled and stroked his hair, letting the moment sink over you like the heat of the sun on a chilly day. 

There was only one problem: How the hell were you going to tell Jay?

Taglist: @kristynaaah

you scoffed, mumbling under your breath. “i like you too, idiot.” sunoo thought he misheard what you said and came closer so he can hear you better. “what did you just say…? could you repeat that for me, please?” you sighed, defeatedly and embarrassed. “i said… i like you too, sun—“ he cutted you off by smashing his lips against yours, like he’s been starving. the way their mouth moved in sync, the wet and smacking sounds filled the living area.

the temperature is rising, hot and steamy. you tried to pull away from him but his grip on your waist got tighter. “where do you think you’re going, mhm? i’m not done with you yet…” he can’t get his hand off of your body, touching you in places where you’ve been craving to be touched by him. “there…fuck, don’t you fucking stop.” you demanded, meanwhile he tutted, disappointed from your bratty behavior. your friend slapped your bottom and you jolted out, startled. “behave, or i’ll leave you like this—whiny, soaked panties, because you’re so fucking demanding, hah…”

“sorry… i’m sorry, sunoo. i’ll be good.” you closed your eyes, tight and begging for forgiveness. you badly need to cum. “good girl, you really know how to listen.” he pry your legs open, wide and ready for him to devour you like you’re his prey. “you know… i’ve been holding myself back from claiming you in front of your parents and tell them that we’re faking every little stunt we did.” he confessed. “because i couldn’t keep pretending that i am not in love with you, [name]. so, let me make you feel good, yeah?”

he pulled the fabric to the side and saw how your pussy glistened from the slick. sunoo licked his lips as he leaned closer to your gushing cunt, giving it kitten licks before he bite the soft flesh not too harsh—and sucking it afterwards. he hummed in satisfaction, “fuck, you taste so good, sweets. i’ve been thinking about this, about you.” you tried to process what he just blurted out, but the feeling of his tongue and mouth doing wonders on your pussy isn’t helping… at all.

you feel like you’re floating, surrounded by the clouds and all shit like that. sunoo didn’t stop lapping at your cunt, he even slid his tongue inside you to feel how soft you are and slurp all the juices leaking over your hole. “hng—shit—you’re so good, sun. so fucking good. i’m going to cum….” the guy below you is flustered, cheeks morphed into crimson from the praise that slipped out of your mouth, his cock kept twitching in his pants, like it wants to be freed.

“cum on my mouth, [name]. wanna taste you.” sunoo thrust his tongue inside you with a finger, sliding in and out of you to help you from your climax. as you came on his mouth, like what he’s been babbling about. you heaved a breath, tired and legs numb. he suddenly got up without letting you call out for his name. you thought that he might leave but then, he came back holding a black blindfold and you noticed that sunoo is hiding something behind his back. “why are you frowning, pretty? we’re going to play a game and you have to guess what object is it, hm? come closer, let me put this blindfold on you.”

you blinked, flabbergasted. it’s not because you feel uneasy, but, you did not expect sunoo to be this freaky. “wait… shit, i should have told you first. tell me, are you uncomfortable? i’ll put it back and we’ll stop.” he was staring at you, feeling guilty from disregarding your permission. and yet, you only sit up straight, “i’m not that boring, sunoo. it’s just—surprising that you’re into this. you know… it’s hot.” you admitted without feeling ashamed, because it’s a fact. kim sunoo is hot.

he merely raised his eyebrow. after that revelation, you were now blindfolded and sitting on the edge of the bed—awaiting what’s coming. you almost missed the grunt sunoo let out just by watching you, clueless and hair a mess. “open your legs, sweets. first, i’ll smear something on your pretty cunt—then, eat it and you’ll have to guess as i put my mouth on you, get it?” you unknowingly gulped, nervous, because you don’t know what will happen if you guess it wrong. as you spread your legs in front of him, he knelt down and applied a cold object on your pussy folds.

“mhm… this is better than eating it in a normal and boring way. love your pussy, pretty. so bad.” he mumbled while licking and sucking the mysterious cold stuff between your thighs. you instinctively raised your hips, gesturing him to keep eating you out. abruptly, sunoo pulled away. your cunt is a mess—sticky with his saliva and the food he just finished gobbling down.

he stood up and gently grabbing your cheeks to kiss you. you practically forgot that this is a game, your thoughts are filled with sunoo and not even trying your best to guess what he just ate in your sopping core. “you have to guess it or no cumming? choose.” you whined because you couldn’t think properly and perhaps, he’s playing with you—a revenge, where it took you long enough to let him touch you and make you feel good. “mint cho… mint choco ice cream.”

you’re already celebrating in your head, not knowing that sunoo, your friend is smirking as if you said something funny. “wrong,” that made you freeze on your seat and you feel agitated because he is making fun of you for getting it wrong. “what the fuck do you mean i got it wrong? that’s mint choco, your favorite.” you can’t see him but his smirk is replaced with a grin, meaning you cannot cum today. “it is mint choco, pretty. did you seriously think i’d only put an ice cream in your needy little cunt?”

you mindlessly pressed your thighs together, apprehensive, due to the fact that he mixed something with the ice cream and so turned on by the way his voice shifted to deep and raspy tone. “w—what did you put in there?” he playfully tapped his cheeks, acting like he’s thinking deeply about it. “can’t tell you, sweets. not yet. you just have to relax and let me take care of you, hm?”

kim sunoo laid you down on the soft mattress, delicately. you are laying down, flat on your back. a pillow sitting under your lower back, so your body won’t be in pain after and it will be easy for him to fold your body in half. “put it in already… please? wanna feel you, sun.” you sobbed, as you felt the dampness between your thighs, flooding, over and over. the guy hovering above you scrunched his nose in annoyance, “you’re so insufferable, makes me want to leave you here.” he huffed, before adding. “i’ll jerk off with the thoughts of your pussy wraps around my cock, so perfectly. do you want that, huh? you keep testing my patience today, [name].”

you shake your head, gripping the duvet cover on either side and biting your lower lip to contain yourself from making noise that might anger him more. “i—i’ll be good, ngh.” thereafter, sunoo stripped off his clothes and leaving you only with your lace panty. you can hear him spitting, and imagining how his spit coated his length. your friend noticed the way you tried to close your legs. “uh-uh. keep them open for me, sweets. i love seeing your pretty cunt react for me.” when he said that, you could feel yourself leaking and making a mess on the bed.

“i hate waiting, you know?” he uttered, as he glides his cock on your clit down to your leaking hole. “mhm, look at you. you’re dripping. you want this so bad, don’t you?” he took a glance at you. “not as much as i do.” he whispered while you yelp, a loud-piercing sound bounces off the room as sunoo entered you abruptly. “so big.” your breath hitched from how his shaft stretches you open. he badly wants to slam his cock in you, yet he restrained himself since he will feel bad if you get hurt because of his impulsive act.

you told him that he can move and he did it with a slow-agonizing pace. sunoo quietly whimpers as he felt your gummy walls squeezing him like a vice. it feels good how each stroke is making you dizzy. meanwhile, sunoo is hissing and cursing under his breath above you. “god, your cunt fits so well around my cock. hah. you’re so perfect, my pretty.” his pace switched to brutal with need in them, secretly saying he loves you to the point that he can’t bear to lose you. sunoo pressed your other leg against your chest. the mushroom tip hitting and kissing the cervix which made it more pleasurable.

soon after, he is laying down beside you with his cock, still buried himself to the hilt, along with a force drive of his length thrusting in-and-out of you. “i’m coming… ngh, sunoo!” you screamed his name, and the guy holding your thigh, grinned from satisfaction. thank god, the room is soundproof or else there will be noise complaints. “that’s right, come for me, sweets. come all over this cock.” his heavy breathing and your cries mixed together with the intense pleasure building up from the two of you.

“mhm… i’m close too, pretty. shit.” sunoo rasps out as he snapped his hips for the last time, before liquids spurting out of the head. it was never ending, like he saved all of it just to fill you with his cum. your friend finally pulled out of you, followed by the mixed juices leaking out of your abused hole. their chest rising with heavy breaths slipping out of their mouth, exhausted. “sleepy—so sleepy.” you mumbled, still out of breath. sunoo only kissed your forehead, “sleep, i’ll clean you up later, hm? good night, pretty. i love you.” and then, you nestled yourself against his barrel chest, mumbling. “love you too, sunnie…”

it’s aphrodisiac chocolate. the stuff he mixed in on his mint chocolate ice cream, a moment ago, that he smeared in your fat and swollen cunt. the reason you were out of it—cock drunk, begging him to use you and make you as his personal cum dump. something that he can secretly use when he needs to satisfy himself.

‎© envil (‘26). ─── all rights reserved.

taglist ⋮ @wonscapes , @tojiworshipper , @wonderikii , @evansfangz , @lilyhaslowiron , @pix3lkitten , @ryukumi , @taetaewonwon , @whymsikl , @kristynaaah , @yangw0ni3 , @yoanalovesyouuu , @gracesalvatore , @luvv1anime , @fxreverzora , @evaflms , @nikiasaurus , @aineest4r , @scarint , @enhaxlhs , @starqrsz ꨄ︎

oral (f. rec), fingering, pussy slapping (ikr), switch!reader, switch!sunoo, protected sex (that’s a first), riding, squirting, praise play, dirty talk, somnophilia, nipple play, handjob, orgasm control, overstimulation. lmk if i forget any

If you asked anyone else in this hallway why they were emptying their bank accounts for the Enhyphi raffle, they’d definitely name a specific fraternity boy and for three years, you had walked right past the huge glossy advertisements without a single second thought.

The annual charity draw was practically a campus holiday by now, a week long massive spectacle where thousands of students aggressively vied for the ultimate prize, which was a fully customizable, all expenses paid date with one of the fraternity’s elites. To you, it had always looked like a superficial circus and since the rotating charities never personally resonated with you, your cash stayed firmly in your wallet.

But this year’s flyer had a different footnote.

All proceeds go to the local Leukemia Research Clinic.

The words hit like an actual tap on your shoulder. Suddenly, the post lecture chatter of the corridor faded into the background, and the memory of a sterile hospital room from two years ago along with the fading smile of your aunt and the helpless anger of watching a disease steal someone away piece by piece.

It felt entirely bizarre to connect that lingering grief with the most coveted bachelors on campus. Yet, your hand was already unzipping your tote and your fingers were finding the edge of your wallet. Sure, a raffle ticket wouldn't bring your aunt back but for the first time in your college career, you felt like the money was actually going somewhere that mattered.

The walk from your building to the center of campus usually took five minutes but today the concrete pathways felt tight, completely choked by an unusual influx of students all moving in a single direction. You tucked your strap higher on your shoulder as you followed the crowd and the closer you got to the quad, the more the ambient buzz of campus life sharpened into something loud and bass heavy.

When you finally rounded the edge of the library, the brick path finally opened up and the sheer scale of the event hit you.

You stopped at the perimeter of the grass and let your eyes scan the transformation. The university lawn was now barely visible beneath a sprawling maze of interconnected white and blue canopy tents, thick black power cables snaked through the grass and a sea of moving bodies. Enhyphi hadn't just thrown a fundraiser—they had literally built a temporary carnival.

You slowly stepped onto the lawn, slowly navigating around a group of freshman girls who were frantically checking their makeup in their phone cameras. Looking to your left, you watched the crowd cluster around the wooden frame of a kissing booth. A guy in front of you paid his five dollars, stepped up on his toes and blushed furiously as one of the handsome frat boys leaned over the counter to plant a quick and overly exaggerated smack on his cheek, which prompted a loud cheer from the line behind him.

The smoky scent of charred meat grew thicker when you walked deeper into the crowd, making you glance towards the smoke plumes rising from a massive grill. Two frat boys, who were completely shirtless despite the slight afternoon breeze, clad in nothing but denim shorts and grease stained aprons, were putting on a full performance for a crowd. One was dramatically flipping hotdogs into the air and catching them on a spatula while the other barked out prices like an old school carnival worker, his defined chest was covered in a faint layer of ash.

You kept moving, using your eyes to search through the banners until you spotted the rather large sign reading RAFFLE TICKETS HERE — $10 A PIECE.

Your chest tightened slightly as you took in the view, the line was a long, looping serpent of people, starting right under the main tent, coiling past the grill stand, wrapping completely around the concrete fountain and stretching back toward the steps on the opposite side. You actually stopped in your tracks and let your hand drop from your bag zipper. The volume of the crowd was ridiculous and the thought of standing in the sun, surrounded by loud music and screaming students made your bedroom suddenly feel like a distant paradise.

You took a half step backward. This is ridiculous, you thought to yourself. I should just go to my room.

But as you stood there, fully ready to retreat, you kept your eyes on the front of the tent. A frat boy with a megaphone was efficiently handing out blue paper slips and making the process quicker. The line shifted and a solid block of ten people moved forward seamlessly, the queue compressing by several feet in a matter of seconds. They were running the booth with military efficiency, safe for the chatty girls that took their time flirt a little before stepping out of the line.

You looked back down at your purse in your tote and thought of the footnote on the poster, so you took a breath. You stepped onto the worn grass, walking to the very end of the line and taking your place behind a girl texting furiously on her phone.

It only took forty five minutes of shifting your weight from one foot to the other on the trampled grass to finally bring you to the front of the queue. The constant thud of the bass from the speakers and the shout of the megaphone had started to give you a dull headache but the relief of finally being next in line kept you grounded.

The girl in front of you, the one who had been glued to her phone the entire time stepped up to the folding table and tossed her long hair over her shoulder.

"Hi! I'd like a hundred tickets, please," she said with performative sweetness as she leaned closer with her palms on the table.

You blinked and leaned slightly to the side to see if you had misheard her but she was already sliding a crisp black credit card into the frat boys hand, with her eyes locked onto him.

He was incredibly handsome, wearing a backward baseball cap and a tight fitted tee with a name tag that said Jake pinned to his chest pocket. He looked up with a perfectly practiced frat boy smile spreading across his face as he took her card. "A hundred? Wow. Someone's trying to guarantee a win today."

"Well, hopefully," the girl giggled and fluttered her eyelashes. "I'm really hoping I win you, Jakey. I already planned our whole date."

Jake didn't miss a beat. He chuckled in an indulgent way that clearly showed he was used to this kind of attention every single day. He leaned in a little closer to her as his eyes gleamed with a playful but highly effective charm. "Is that so? Well, the odds are pretty competitive this year. Tell you what...maybe you should buy another fifty just to make absolutely sure. Give yourself that extra edge."

You watched in stunned silence as the girl didn't even hesitate. "You know what? You're totally right! Make it one hundred and fifty," she said, nodding eagerly as if he had just given her real financial advice.

You couldn’t stop your mouth from actually falling open. Your jaw was practically dropping to the grass as you did the mental math, one single raffle ticket was ten dollars. Ten dollars. That meant she had just casually dropped fifteen hundred dollars on a piece of plastic and a tiny slip of paper, all for a chance to go to dinner with a guy in a baseball cap.

One thousand five hundred dollars, you thought, staring at the back of her head in utter disbelief. That was insane work, a level of wealth and obsession that completely threw your brain offline and reminded you exactly what kind of madness this fraternity generated on campus.

"There you go, sweet thing," Jake said, with a smooth voice as he slid a clipboard and a pen across the table toward the girl. "Just write down your dorm, room number and your phone number right there. You know, so we can find you when your name gets drawn."

While she eagerly grabbed the pen, your eyes shifted to the guy standing directly to Jake’s left. He was leaning his hip slightly against the edge of the table with his arms crossed over a crisp white and blue jersey. The energy radiating off him was nothing short of pure amusement, he was watching the girl sign her money away with a look that said he knew exactly what kind of power the Enhyphi boys wielded in this school. It was written all over his face, like this effortless and teasing satisfaction that they could just flash a handsome smile and convince a student to drop a small fortune for a mere chance at their attention.

Finally, the girl scooped up her massive stack of blue slips, gave Jake one last lingering wave and stepped away.

Your chest tightened a bit as you took a half step forward, suddenly under the bright canopy of the tent.

"Hey there, gorgeous. Welcome to—" Jake started, letting his customer service smile snap back into place as he reached for a fresh roll of tickets.

But he didn't get to finish, the guy to his left suddenly moved and cut Jake off entirely. Standing closer to the table now, the bright afternoon light caught the sharp and impossibly symmetrical lines of his face and you instantly recognized him—It was Kim Sunoo and the small, silver rimmed name tag pinned to his jersey confirmed it, though his striking cat like eyes and flawless complexion were already a staple of campus gossip.

Without breaking eye contact with you, Sunoo smoothly extended an arm and subtly shoved Jake backward by the shoulder. It wasn't aggressive though, it was just a dominant but seamless reclamation of the counter space that sent Jake stumbling back a step with a startled mutter.

Sunoo rested his hands on the table and shifted in just a fraction. The teasing smirk he had been wearing a second ago quickly melted away and now he had a remarkably warm gentle smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

"Hi," Sunoo murmured, his voice was surprisingly deep and grounding amidst the blaring music of the quad. "How many tickets can I get for you today?"

A sudden wave of shyness washed over you, making your fingers feel a little stiff as you reached into your purse to pull out a single ten dollar bill. Holding it out to him, you immediately felt incredibly small and acutely aware of the fact that the girl before you had just dropped a literal rent payment while you were standing here with the bare minimum.

"Just...one, please," you said softly, offering him a polite smile and hoping that would make him decide not to make fun of you. But you braced yourself for what you considered the inevitable anyway, you fully expected Sunoo to glance over his shoulder at Jake, share a silent joke and laugh at your expense, so you were practically bracing your shoulders to take the hit of their collective judgment, completely aware of how your wrinkled ten dollar bill would be a drop in the ocean of how much they made today alone.

But to your surprise, the mockery never came.

Instead, Sunoo’s neat fingers brushed against yours as he took the bill with his touch entirely too gentle. He slid a single blue paper ticket into your hand and never once let his feline eyes waver from your face.

"Man," Sunoo murmured, his gaze locked entirely on your face while he addressed his fraternity brother. "I think the universe is really looking out for us this year. All the prettiest girls on campus are buying tickets."

The unapologetic weight of his stare made it perfectly clear who he was talking about, he wasn't looking at the crowd or at Jake. He was looking at you.

And that made a sudden wave of flustered energy rush through your whole body. Your brain completely short circuited under the intensity of his undivided attention and when you opened your mouth to give a standard response, the words caught in your throat.

"I—uh—t-thank you," you stammered, the words tumbling out in a disjointed stutter.

Jake raised a sharp eyebrow from behind Sunoo and knowing smirk pulled at the corner of his lips as he watched your composure completely unravel.

Sunoo on the other hand, just let out an incredibly sweet chuckle that made his eyes crinkle at the corners again as he tapped the clipboard resting on the table. "Just write down your information right here, beautiful. Don't forget your dorm number."

Your fingers felt entirely too clumsy as you snatched up the pen, your handwriting coming out slightly shakier than usual while you quickly scribbled down your name, phone number and room details. The second the pen left the paper, you clutched your single blue slip tightly in your palm and offered both boy a breathless nod, before practically sprinting away into the safety of the campus crowd to escape the heavy warmth of Sunoo's gaze tracking your every step.

And as you walked away, all you could think about was how you’d never felt anything like that in your life. Even your high school crushes and exes hadn’t made you feel the way Sunoo had just made you feel in that moment.

A week and some days passed rapidly and the energy of the fundraiser quickly fell into the background of your memory. Your routine swallowed you whole again, ever unchanged and steady. You attended your lectures, ate your meals at the campus diner or your room and spent hours buried in your textbooks. The only real highlight of the last couple of days had been a video call with your cousin and you described the absolute circus of the frat festival, specifically the girl dropping fifteen hundred dollars on raffle tickets, she had let out a dramatic groan through the screen.

"Nothing like that ever happens here," she had whined and face planted into her pillow. "I wish I went to your school. My campus is a literal graveyard of joy."

You had laughed loudly and shook your head at her. "Ilham, you go to an ivy league, shut up. You're literally going to be a millionaire and I’m going to live off you."

She had just rolled her eyes, completely unimpressed by her own prestige, before your conversation drifted into lighter gossip.

Now, it was finally Friday night—your favorite night of the week and the bliss of a completely clear schedule was yours to enjoy. All your assignments were submitted, your technical labs were done and you were a full week ahead in all your classes. There was zero academic pressure weighing on your shoulders. You were freshly showered with your skin warm and smelling of your favorite body wash, dressed in a new pajama set. You’d gone all out to make this a cozy night in by also splurging on some new quality sheets. A heavy bag of takeout had just been delivered to your door and the mouth watering scent of your favorite cheat meal was already filling the small space of your dorm room.

You crawled onto your bed, propping your pillows up against the wall and opened your laptop to load up Off Campus, fully prepared to lose yourself in the scenes of the new show because Garrett Graham and Hannah Wells had completely stolen your heart over the last few days. You were entirely ready to unwind, isolate yourself from the rest of the university and do absolutely nothing for the next forty eight hours.

But the exact second you picked up your chopsticks and you were just about to take your first bite, a clear knock echoed against the wood of your dorm door, catching you completely off guard. You froze with your chopstick full of noodles halfway to your mouth, your brows furrowed as you stared confused at the solid wood of the door.

It was really surprising, mostly because your dorm room wasn't exactly a high traffic social hub. No one really ever came to visit you unannounced, especially not on a Friday night.

Your mind immediately began to spin, racking your brain for anyone who could possibly be standing on the other side of the door. Was it your lab partner? maybe realizing you needed to re do a circuit calculation? Or was it your mom dropping off a surprise care package? No she would’ve called you before she even got on the freeway. Or had your cousin somehow broken out of her college an hour to show up at your door as a surprise? No cause Ilham was bad at keeping surprises a secret. None of the answers made an ounce of sense, so you figured it was probably just your RA doing a routine floor check or a fellow student from your floor looking to borrow a cup of ice or some laundry detergent.

You set your chopsticks down on the edge of the takeout container and exhaled a puzzled sigh as you slid off the bed. You unlocked the door with a quiet click and pulled it open, the greeting already dying in your throat before it could even cross your lips because standing in the dim lighting of your dorm hallway was Kim Sunoo.

He was looking devastatingly handsome, his appearance just as sharp and perfectly put together just as it had been on the quad days ago. He was leaning slightly against the doorframe with a gentle expression on his face, completely contradicting the chaotic fraternity world he belonged. Your brain pulled a complete blank with the absurdity of the visual failing to register in any way. Of all the people you had guessed during those few seconds of walking to the door, the literal campus sweetheart was nowhere near the list.

You blinked and darted your eyes past his shoulder to the door on your left, then to the one on your right, fully expecting to see a frantic student waving him down, telling him he was at the wrong door. There was no way he was actually standing outside your room.

Looking back at him, you cleared your throat. "Are you...lost?"

Sunoo let out a thoroughly amused chuckle, his shoulders shifting slightly as he shook his head. "No, I'm pretty sure I have the right room. I'm here to take you on your date."

"What date?" you asked, feeling your brain completely stall.

"The raffle?" Sunoo prompted, tilting his head with a small smile. "From last week? You bought a ticket."

Your eyes widened as the realization hit you like a physical slap. It all came rushing back in a tidal wave and your jaw nearly dropped for the second time that week. You had actually won?

"Wait," you stammered, gripping the edge of the door a little tighter. "If I won, why didn't anyone text or call me first? You can't just show up at someone's dorm."

"I did," Sunoo said, pulling his phone from his pocket and tapping the screen before turning it toward you. A thread of unanswered green text messages and a missed call to your number stared back at you. "You never responded. Honestly, I was starting to get a little worried, so I decided to just come and check up on you myself."

A heavy wave of panic set in, leading you to take a deliberate step back into your room, trying to retreat into the safe sanctuary of it while keeping the door between you.

"Look, Sunoo, there’s been a mistake," you said quickly, raising your hands up in a defensive gesture. "I didn't actually intend on winning. I only bought that ticket because of the charity, literally just to donate. You should just take this opportunity to go out with a girl who actually wants to go or someone you really like. Basically...I'm just not interested."

Sunoo’s smile completely dropped and his lower lip pushing out into an exaggerated pout that looked entirely too endearing on his pretty face. The clear divide between his usual polished persona and this sudden, puppyish disappointment was deeply unfair and it almost disarmed you right then and there.

"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked softly, his dark eyes dropping to look down at you through his bottom lashes. He leaned a little closer against the doorframe as a teasing spark returned to his face. "I swear there’s nothing intimidating about me."

"No!" you shot back quickly, feeling flustered at the accusation. You cleared your throat, trying to regain your footing. "No, I'm not intimidated. I'm sure you're very sweet, Sunoo, really. It’s just...I don’t date. At all. So it’s really nothing personal."

The pout returned again, looking even more genuinely upset this time, as if the rejection actually stung him but the heavy cloud faded as quickly as it came and a clever glint took its place.

"You don't date at all?" he repeated and you couldn’t help but notice how incredibly persuasive his voice was. "Here’s the thing, I already paid for the reservation and the money already went to the clinic anyway. You’re just going to sit in here and eat by yourself on a Friday night? Why not think of it as a free and incredibly high quality meal with zero strings attached. If I’m completely boring, you can walk out after the appetizer. Deal?"

He offered you that warm, genuine smile again—the same one that had disarmed you at the raffle booth. There was no arrogance in his pitch, just an incredibly sweet charm that made your flat rejection feel entirely unnecessary.

"What do you mean you already paid for a reservation? I thought the dates were fully customizable. What if I want to go to an arcade or something?"

That seemed to catch him off guard as his eyes widened and he scratched the back of his neck. "Okay, maybe I got a little too eager when your ticket number got pulled from my pool."

"You got eager?" You titled your head at him, not fully understanding his words.

"Okay, let's reset," he murmured, sneakily avoiding your question, his voice dropped into a gentle cadence. "Forget the reservation. What’s your absolute favorite thing to do? Or your favorite place to eat around campus? We can just do that. No pressure or awkward small talk. Just two people hanging out, so it’s not really like a date date at all."

You looked back at your laptop screen, then back at his expectant face and found your defenses crumbling. Somehow, without even really trying hard, he seemed to be talking you right out of your own room.

The rigid walls you had built up over the last three years began to feel incredibly fragile under his steady stare. You looked down at your socks and a sudden thought popped into your head. There was this one legendary but incredibly elusive pop up taco place just off campus, they only opened on Friday nights and the line was notoriously brutal, always stretching from sunrise to sunset and making it nearly impossible for a busy student like you to catch them.

"Well..." you started hesitantly as you looked back up at him. "There's this pop up taco place down on the corner of this busy street two blocks outside campus. It's only there on Fridays but the queue is always insane. I've been wanting to—"

Before you could even finish describing the tiny pop up truck and the chaotic crowds, Sunoo’s entire face lit up.

"Wait, are you talking about the pop up on third street?" He interrupted with his eyes wide and glittering. "The one with the handmade corn tortillas and the lime marinated flank steak?"

You instantly lit up as well, your initial shyness completely forgotten as your eyes matched his excitement. "Yes! Exactly that one! Oh my god, I love their tacos so much but I’ve only ever managed to actually wait out the line and eat them once since I started school here."

"Well, you are in luck," he said, reaching for his phone again with an effortless flourish. "The family that runs that truck? Their oldest son is literally one of my closest friends from high school. I have his mom's number." He unlocked his screen, opening his contacts as he looked back at you with such a persuasive warmth. "Give me two minutes to make a quick phone call and I can guarantee we skip that entire line and get a fresh batch handed straight to us. What do you say?"

The sheer temptation of those tacos, combined with the utterly charming way he had just destroyed your entire defense, left you completely putty in his hands. You looked down at your pajamas and let out defeated laugh. He had really done it, he’d smoothly and flawlessly convinced you to go on this hot date date with him

"Give me fifteen minutes," you said, another laugh escaping you as you gestured down at your clothes. "Let me change out of these."

Sunoo’s smile widened, obviously satisfied with his victory. He stepped back from the threshold, giving you a little more breathing room, even though his eyes still held that magnetic pull. "Take your time, beautiful. I’ll be waiting in my car right out front, it's a black sedan parked by the main curb."

With a final smile, he turned and strolled down the hall, casually tucking his hands back into his pockets.

You closed the door, listening to the click of the lock echo in the suddenly quiet room, your heart was thumping a little faster than usual in your chest.

How did I let a fraternity boy talk me out of my Friday night takeout plans in less than five minutes? You shook your head but a helpless smile tugged at your lips as you walked over to your closet.

Sliding the wardrobe doors open, you stared at your hangers, suddenly hit with the classic dilemma—what do you wear to a non date that is secretly totally want to be a date?

It was just a casual taco pop up, so turning up in a dress or anything overly formal would look like you were trying way too hard. But you also couldn't go out with Kim Sunoo, who looked like he stepped out of a clothing ad even in a casual jersey wearing your oversized hoodie.

You combed through your options, cringing as your fingers brushed past your heavy workshop overalls. You wanted something that felt effortless but still pulled together and in the end you settled for your favorite pair denim shorts and a cropped knit sweater.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and convinced yourself it was cute enough, like you looked liked you just threw it on while secretly hoping you actually looked good enough to stand next to him.

It was the perfect balance of cute and comfortable enough for eating tacos on a Friday night. You quickly patted your cheeks and let out a grounding breath to calm the nervous flutter in your stomach.

It's just a casual hang out, you reminded yourself, pointing a finger at your reflection. Just a free meal with a really hot guy who’s not even into girls. No big deal.

With your phone and keys tucked safely into your shoulder bag, you locked up your room and headed down the stairwell. The cool evening air hit your face the second you stepped out of the building's main entrance and your eyes instantly searched the curb.

As he said, a polished black sedan was parked right under the street light and he was leaning back against the driver's side door, with the bright blue light of his phone screen illuminating the soft lines of his handsome face as his thumbs flew across the keyboard.

It was almost like he possessed some kind of sixth sense because before your sneakers even cleared the bottom step of the concrete entryway, his head snapped up and second his eyes found you, a wide smile broke across his face. He slid his phone into his back pocket, allowing his focus to take you in from head to toe with an appreciative twinkle that made you feel shy all over again.

"Look at you," Sunoo said softly as he stepped away from the car. "I really like that sweater on you."

Before you could stumble over a response or let out another nervous stutter, he was already rounding the hood of the car with a confident stride, he reached out to grasp the handle of the passenger door and pulled it wide open for you. He bowed his head slightly, carrying a gentlemanly smirk on his lips as he gestured for you to step inside.

The interior of his car smelled faintly of expensive cologne and clean leather. As soon as Sunoo slipped into the driver's seat and started the engine, the smooth hum of the car filled the space. He shifted into drive and navigated away from your dorm with one hand casually resting on the bottom of the steering wheel.

"Alright, so mission taco is officially a go," he said, casting a quick glance your way. "I called up my friend's mom while you were getting changed and told me to just walk right up to the truck when we get there."

"Wow, look at you with the vip connections," you said, a soft laugh leaving you before you smiled at him. "That's actually amazing, thank you."

"Hey, I take my taco promises very seriously," he teased.

As he drove, he kept the conversation completely effortless and breezy. He asked about your classes and how your semester was going, he wanted to know what you usually did to unwind when you weren't buried in schoolwork. Every time the car came to a halt at a red light, he would turn his head completely to look at you, giving you his undivided attention while you spoke.

Up close like this, you found yourself getting entirely too distracted. There was something undeniably captivating about the way he drove, it was with this relaxed surety exuding from him, the easy going grip of his hand on the wheel that almost made him seem straight. There was a level of magnetic assurance that was deeply attractive to you and you felt a sudden warmth pooling in your stomach, very turned on by how smoothly he carried himself.

Before you could get too lost in your thoughts, he pulled the car into a gravel parking lot and the tires crunched to a stop.

You hadn't been to this spot in months and it had completely transformed. Instead of just the lone taco truck you remembered, the lot had turned into a bustling night market. A variety of different food trucks were parked in a wide circle, each one serving up something different like gourmet sliders to churros. In the center, string lights were draped overhead attached to poles, casting a golden glow over a cluster of wooden tables and chairs. The air was thick with the delicious scent of grilled meats and spices, and the whole space was humming with the lively sounds of laughter and chatter blended with the sizzle of food hitting hot flat tops.

Sunoo killed the engine and hopped out, making sure he opened the door for you before you could even reach for your handle, just like he did the first time.

He casually led the way through the crowd, walking with an innate authority that easily cleared a path for the two of you. As expected, his friend’s family truck had the most brutal line in the entire lot, weaving halfway down the block. But Sunoo didn't even hesitate when he walked you straight past the waiting crowd, heading right up to the order window at the front.

The middle aged woman working the window was in the middle of counting change but the very beat she looked up and spotted his face, her eyes creased with immediate fondness.

"Oh, Sunoo, darling! Look at you!" she exclaimed in a voice brimming with genuine affection. "It is so good to see you, sweet boy!"

"Hi, Auntie," Sunoo smiled at her, propping his elbows against the counter with a respectful tilt of his head. "It's so good to see you too. How has business been tonight? Looks like you're completely crushing it."

"Oh, you know how it is, always busy, always crazy!" she laughed, waving a hand in the air before pointing her thumb toward the back of the truck. "Go on, head right around to the back door. The boys are back there."

"Thank you, Auntie," Sunoo smiled and turned back to you, an all too aware spark in his eyes as he took your wrist and led you around the side of the vehicle.

He pulled open the back door of the food truck, stepping into the heat and steam of the kitchen space, bringing you right along with him. The second you stepped inside, another man working the prep line looked up from the grill. His face split into a massive grin the moment he recognized Sunoo.

"Look who it is! Sunbun! Timed that perfectly, man," he yelled over the hiss of the meat, immediately reaching over to the counter and scooping up a heavy brown paper box. He handed it straight to Sunoo and the cardboard was already venting an absolutely incredible aroma of fresh cilantro and perfectly seasoned meat. "Fresh off the grill. Enjoy, baby."

Sunoo turned to you with a bright grin, lifting the heavy brown paper box in the air like a trophy. "Tada!"

You couldn't help but let out a loud laugh and clap your hands at the ease with which he had bypassed a two hour line. Seeing your reaction, Sunoo immediately placed his free hand over his chest and bent at the waist, performing a dramatic faux bow as if he were a classical performer thanking a stadium crowd.

"Thank you, thank you, you're too kind," he joked as his eyes danced with endearing humor.

He led the way back out into the center of the gravel lot, threading through the lively buzz and the warm glow of the string lights until he found an empty wooden table near the edge. He pulled out a stool for you, gesturing for you to take a seat. "Wait right here for a minute. I'm going to grab us something to drink."

"Sure," you smiled before settling into the chair and watching him walk off into the crowd.

True to his word, he was back within less than five minutes, carrying two large plastic cups filled with a pale yellow liquid. "Here you go. The truck two down has the absolute best lemonade in the city. Trust me on this."

You took a sip from the straw immediately and the refreshing balance of sweet and tart hit your tongue. You let out an appreciative hum, nodding in total agreement with. "Oh wow. You weren't lying, that really is incredible lemonade."

"Told you," he said, looking incredibly pleased with himself as he sat down opposite you.

He was being completely gentlemanly, taking charge of the setup so you wouldn't have to lift a finger. He carefully unlatched the cardboard tabs of the large paper box, folding the lid back to reveal a stunning arrangement of street tacos, stacked closely together and piled high with finely diced onions and vibrant wedges of lime. Sunoo picked up one of the amazing looking tacos, supporting the double corn tortilla expertly and set it right in front of you on a clean napkin.

You clasped your hands together in pure anticipation, your mouth practically watering from the rich aroma wafting up from the table.

You picked it up, squeezed a bit of lime juice over the top and took a generous bite. The flavor was an absolute explosion—the perfectly seasoned meat melted in your mouth, perfectly cut by the sharp onion and fresh herb. You instantly closed your eyes and let out a blissful sigh of pure contentment as you chewed.

When you finally opened your eyes, you looked across the table at him, your expression full of real gratitude. "Sunoo, seriously...thank you so much. This is amazing."

Sunoo let out a soft laugh as he watched you savor the food with such intense appreciation. "You look like you just had a religious experience," he teased gently, his eyes glued to your happy expression for a second longer before he picked up a taco of his own. "Alright, let's see if it lives up to my memory."

It did.

You chewed your taco and nodded along as Sunoo delved into the most ridiculous story about an incident at the frat house involving a lost mascot costume and three gallons of neon green punch. His storytelling was animated and his hands moved to punctuate the jokes, you actually found yourself laughing so hard you had to set your drink down to keep from spilling it.

Slowly, the laughter died down into a comfortable silence. You took a sip of your lemonade, allowing your eyes to drop to the table as a thought that had been lingering in the back of your mind for months resurfaced.

Sunoo seemed to be incredibly perceptive, he tilted his head and set his taco down on his napkin, his sharp eyes tracking the sudden shift in your expression.

"What?" he asked with curious smile dancing on his lips. "You got so quiet all of a sudden. I can practically hear your gears turning from over here."

You hesitated while rolling the plastic straw between your fingers before looking up at him. "Can I ask you something? Safely?"

"Sure," he murmured, resting his forearms on the table, completely intrigued.

"Well..." you started, clearing your throat slightly. "I kind of...always thought you were gay. And honestly, I always wondered why the frat wouldn't just put your name exclusively in the guy's ticket pool. You know, since guys buy tickets too. That way the gay ticket buyers on campus could actually end up with the gay guys from your fraternity."

Sunoo blinked, he appeared to be completely caught off guard for a little over a second before an amused laugh bubbled out of him. He shook his head and shifted slightly back in his chair.

"Ah, campus rumors," he chuckled. "Well first of all, I'm not gay. I'm bisexual. And second of all...my name is in both pools. If a guy's ticket had been drawn, I'd be out here eating tacos with him instead."

Oh.

You felt heat in your chest at the correction. "Oh. Right. But..." You squinted at him, trying to piece together the gossip you'd overheard all over campus in the last year. "I thought you were dating that hot guy, Sunghoon? Isn't that why everyone thought that?"

The second the words left your mouth, Sunoo's entire demeanor shifted into nothing short of unfiltered mischief. The cat like smirk returned to his face full force and his eyes flashed with a sudden, teasing energy.

"Oh?" Sunoo purred, shifting back over the table, his tone lowered. "You think Sunghoon is hot?"

Your heart did a quick flip in your chest. "No! I mean—that's not what I—" You completely fumbled, using your hands to wave wildly in the air as you tried to backtrack. "I didn't mean it like that!"

"Is Sunghoon your type?" Sunoo pressed further, not even trying to hide the delighted grin blooming across his face as he watched your composure disintegrate entirely.

"No, no, no," you repeated quickly, shaking your head so hard your hair flew across your face.

"Why not?" he teased more, resting his chin in his hand, like a cat that had just cornered a mouse. He was clearly enjoying every single second of seeing you so flustered. "You literally just called him a hot guy. Don't take it back now."

"Well, yes! Because Sunghoon is objectively hot!" you defended yourself, your face burning as you tried to logic your way out of the trap. "Like, just biologically. Everyone on campus talks about how good looking he is and honestly, everyone also talks about the two of you together."

Sunoo gave you a satisfied hum and his teasing expression softened just a fraction into something more sincere, though the playful glint in his eyes remained.

"Well, everyone on campus is slightly behind on the news," Sunoo said, taking a slow sip of his lemonade. "Sunghoon and I were dating. Past tense. But that's completely over now." He set his cup down and shifted his eyes back onto yours with an undivided intensity that made the surrounding night life noise fade away. "Like I said...I'm bisexual. Not gay. And right now, I'm entirely single and I'm sitting here with you."

"Okay, fair enough," you mumbled, trying to process the revelation about him and Sunghoon while taking another bite of your taco to give your hands something to do.

Sunoo watched you chew, a soft smile lingering on his lips before he rested his chin on his palm. "So, answer me this. Why did you choose this year to finally buy a raffle ticket? What changed?"

You arched an eyebrow at him. "How do you know I haven't bought one in previous years? Maybe I've been a loyal supporter of your fraternity's fundraising efforts all along."

Sunoo rolled his eyes and let a dramatic huff escape him. "Please. I've worked that booth every single spring since I was a freshman. If you had stepped up to my table before, trust me, I would have noticed you."

The absolute certainty in his voice made a familiar warmth fill your stomach. To hide it, you cleared your throat and decided to just give him the real answer, telling him all about Ilham’s mum—your aunt, how much she struggled and eventually passed away. So this year, the specific charity they were sponsoring actually hit incredibly close to home for you. You explained that you usually avoided the chaos of greek life events on the quad but seeing that specific foundation on the flyer made you want to drop at least a little bit of money to support it.

Sunoo's playful demeanor softened completely as you spoke. He listened intently and nodded in true understanding of your reason, his eyes reflected a gentle empathy that felt worlds away from his usual persona.

"Your aunt would’ve been really proud of you. That's really sweet," he said softly when you finished. "It makes sense why you wanted to chip in." Then, a coy smile made its way to his mouth again and his eyes twinkled with mischief. "But...why didn't last year's charity hit close to home? If I remember correctly, the proceeds went to the local veterinary clinic. And didn't you spend almost your entire sophomore year volunteering there?"

You froze, pausing your cup of lemonade halfway to your lips to stare at him, your brain entirely shutting down and rebooting in such a short amount of time, all because you were trying to figure out how on earth Kim Sunoo, a guy who lived in a perfectly different social stratosphere than you, knew such an obscure detail about your sophomore year schedule.

"Wait," you stammered, setting the cup down with a sharp click. "How do you even know that? I barely told my own friends I was volunteering there."

Sunoo's confident expression suddenly faltered and for the first time all night, his cool, unbothered exterior cracked just a little. He quickly looked away from you and his eyes darted to the string lights overhead. And then he took an oddly intense interest in adjusting the plastic straw in his drink while a faint pink hue began to dust the tips of his ears.

"I mean..." he mumbled, his voice dropping into a slightly defensive tone as he refused to meet your eyes. "I just...I saw you there. A couple of times. It's not a big deal."

Seeing the faint pink tint on his ears, you decided to show him some mercy and not press any further. You let out a knowing hum and let the subject drop, allowing the tension to melt back into the comfortable rhythm you'd been building all night.

"Actually...I have something else to ask you." You said, to which he tilted his head and gave you a welcoming nod.

"Go ahead. I'm an open book."

You held back for a bit then just came out with it. "Why are you even in a frat? I don't know, I guess I've just never thought it really fit your personality."

He shook his head a little, looking down at his food for a moment. "They're not all bad," he said, a slightly defensive but entirely fond note entering his voice as he gestured vaguely with one hand. "They're actually really great guys. I know there are a lot of stereotypes about frat guys and trust me, I do get why people think that way. But for me, it was different."

He hesitated and you watched his expression turn unusually grounded, very different to his normal bright demeanor. "Throughout high school, I didn't really have friends. Not real ones, anyway."

Your eyebrows knit together in genuine surprise before you could stop them. You stared at him, feeling thrown off by the admission. Sunoo was effortlessly charismatic, he was the kind of person who seemed like he would have been at the absolute center of every social circle since childhood. "Wait, really?" you blurted out, unable to hide your surprise. "No way. You seem like you would've been the most popular guy in school."

Sunoo offered a little cynical smile and waved off the compliment with a quiet sigh. "People liked being around me, sure but it wasn't real. It was just a lot of people who wanted to use me for stuff. For status or even favors, whatever. I was always super aware of it."

He cleared his throat then, his expression softened significantly like a warmer memory was taking over. "Until I met Jake and Jay. They were a year above me in school and they were just...the best. They didn't want anything from me cause they genuinely liked having me around. They looked out for me when they didn't have to." Sunoo smiled. "So, I kind of just followed them to the same college when I graduated. They were already sophomores in the frat so I just did what felt natural and joined too. They're my family."

You smiled gently, "That's really sweet," you said to him, looking at him with a newfound appreciation for the loyalty he held for his friends.

From there, the conversation drifted into much lighter waters. Sunoo opened up to you and casually shared the story of coming out as bisexual to his family when he was only fourteen. He told you all about how dramatic he had made the whole ordeal, only for his mom to look up from her cooking and tell him she already knew.

In return, you found yourself sharing things you rarely talked about with people from your school. You told him all about your absolute love for baking, your eyes lighting up as you described your dream of moving out of the dorms next year into a small apartment with a proper kitchen so you could finally start a small baking business.

"You're actually adorable, you know that?" he whispered so softly, you almost didn’t hear him but you did and it made your heart do another violent flip.

Before you even realized how much time had passed, the taco box was completely empty, so were the lemonade cups was and thankfully, the initial awkwardness of the evening had completely evaporated into shared jokes and easy laughter. You casually checked your phone to glance at the time and your eyes widened.

"Oh wow, it's really late," you commented, showing him the screen. "We've been sitting here for hours."

Sunoo glanced at your phone and nodded, a look of faint disappointment crossing his face before he caught himself. "Yeah, you're right. I should probably get you back before the dorm doors do their late night lockdown."

The moment you both stepped back into the quiet interior of his car, you couldn’t help but notice how the atmosphere had definitely shifted. The talkative dynamic you had shared at the table was now replaced by a heavy silence. The drive back to your building felt incredibly tense for absolutely no reason and every time he shifted gears or his hand brushed near the center console, a sharp spike of awareness shot through you. You felt completely squirmy in his passenger seat, only able to shift your weight and stare out the window to hide the fact that your chest was tight and your skin felt entirely too warm.

When he finally pulled up to the curb of your building, he didn't just let you get out. He killed his engine and walked you all the way inside, taking the stairs up in a charged quiet until you were standing right back in front of your room.

You turned around to face him, nervously clutching your bags at your shins. "Well...thank you for tonight, Sunoo. Seriously. I really, really had fun."

Sunoo took a deliberate step closer, the space between you shrinking instantly as the quiet of the hallway wrapped around you. "So," he started, allowing his voice to drop into that magnetic register. "Would you want to do this again?"

You swallowed hard and felt your back nearly pressed against the door. Needing a moment to ground yourself, you reached behind your back, slid your key into the lock, and pushed the door open slightly. But when you turned your head back to answer him, he had closed the remaining distance. He was standing even closer now and the faint scent of his cologne was enveloping your senses.

"Sure," you said shyly, the word barely a breathy whisper.

Sunoo hummed a little amused, a slow smirk playing on his lips as his eyes dropped to your mouth before rising back to yours. "And will you actually reply to my texts this time, angel?"

Your throat felt too dry and your brain was lagging so badly that you couldn't even form real words. All you could manage was a tight nod of your head.

His eyes shifted as satisfaction rippling through his expression. He leaned down even further until his face was only inches from yours and all you heard was a barely audible whisper—"Can I...?" Before his soft lips pressed against yours.

The touch made your heart start to beat so fast, you thought you would have a heart attack. You let eyes flutter shut but after a breathless moment, you gently broke the contact for a mere second to open your eyes and look directly into his hooded ones. The sheer desire reflecting back at you was all it took before you were the one closing the gap and capturing his lips again, this time, the kiss completely shifted.

It became deeper instantly, so urgent and hungry that he let out a growl in his throat as his warm hands came up to securely grip your waist and pull you flush against his chest. You threw your arms around his neck in return and buried your fingers in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck to pull him even closer. His tongue smoothly invaded your mouth, parting your lips with an effortless dominance that made a weak whimper leave you. God—he was a devastatingly good kisser.

Sunoo tore his lips away from yours with a breathless sound, only to immediately bury his face in the crook of your neck, planting hot kisses and sucking down the sensitive skin of your throat, his grip tightening as he anchored your body to his. Your breath hitched completely when you felt his fingers slide smoothly beneath the hem of your sweater, his bare palm making direct contact with the skin of your waist.

A sharp gasp ripped from your lungs at the quick intensity of it. "W-wait," you stammered, your hands shifting to press against his shoulders. "Sunoo, wait—"

The moment the words left your mouth, he stopped and took a step back completely, lifting his hands from your waist in a respectful, immediate retreat, even though his chest was heaving just as violently as yours was.

You leaned against the doorframe for support, feeling your chest get hot and your mind spinning. "We...we should probably stop," you panted, trying to find your bearings.

Sunoo nodded his head in immediate agreement, his own breath coming out in hot shallow pants as he tried to regain his composure. He cleared his throat and tried to form an earnest smile on his pretty face. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I should...I should definitely take you on another proper date before we take things any farther than…than this."

But it was like your body wasn't listening to common sense anymore. You were so intensely turned on, feeling the blood rush so loudly in your ears, that you could barely even process the words coming out of his mouth. The residual heat of his hand under your sweater and the sweet taste of him on your tongue had completely reconstructed your brain.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you shot your hand forward to grip the front of his jacket. With a sudden burst of confidence, you firmly hauled him forward, pulling him right over the threshold and into your room.

Sunoo let out a startled oof as his shoes stumbled over the entryway but the second the heavy door slammed shut behind him and locked with a loud click, any remaining hesitation vanished from both of you. He didn't say a single word, all he could do was simply back you straight into the nearest solid wall, using his hand to grip your jawline as he crashed his lips back onto yours, deeper and way more starved than before.

You toed off your sneakers and the shoes clattered forgotten against the carpet while his fingers were making their way down the front of your sweater. He popped open the buttons one by one and you quickly shrugged the heavy fabric off your shoulders, leaving you in nothing but your thin camisole. Through it all, your lips never left his and the kiss grew deeper, wetter too.

You didn’t even get the chance to gasp and look up at him again, he had hooked his hands securely underneath the jacks of your thighs. He gave a firm tug upward, prompting you to instinctively jump so he could have your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. When he tore his mouth from yours, he went straight for your neck again but this time he didn't stop there. He slid his lips further down, dragging searing kisses across your collarbone and down to your chest, he pressed his mouth right against the exposed curve of your breast above the low neckline of your camisole. A shaky gasp ripped from your throat and you could help the way your fingers tightened in his hair.

The next thing you knew, the room was titling and you were landing softly against the thick comforter of your unmade bed, the impact barely registered because the heat between you both was unyielding.

Sunoo hovered over you for a fraction of a second and his breath came in ragged pants while he quickly stripped off his jacket and tossed it blindly onto the floor. Then he shifted right back down to you, pinning you to the mattress under his weight as he took your lips in another crushing kiss.

As he settled directly between your thighs, he shifted his weight to get closer and that’s when you felt the evident outline of his firming cock pressing through his trousers right between your legs. The slight friction from his movement sent a sweet shiver of heat right to your core, making your hips instinctively twitch up against him as you realized just how far gone he already was for you.

The unexpected fervor of him made your hands frantic, it made you pull your lips away from his with a winded pant, your fingers dropped to his waist to fumble clumsily with the buckle of his belt. He let you try for a brief moment, his chest heaving while he watched your inelegant urgency but as your hands trembled against the leather and iron, a frustrated curse slipped past his lips.

He caught both of your wrists in a firm grip and easily pinned them flat against the mattress over your head with just one hand. The brand new display of dominance made your eyes go wide and your heart hammered against your ribs cause he was hovering over you, completely trapping you beneath his frame.

Using his free hand, he slowly reached down between your bodies. His eyes never left yours and his fingers quickly unbuttoned your jeans and slid the zipper down in one tug. The cool air of the room hit your skin of your belly, making goosebumps spread across your body.

"Lift up," he commanded in a rough mumble.

You arched your back, lifting your hips off the comforter to help him push the denim down your legs, then Sunoo move his weight to the side just enough to let you kick the trousers off, discarding them onto the floor along with his own shoes and jacket.

He slid back between your thighs, resting on his knees to drop his gaze down your body. The thin fabric of your panties was already soaking through, clinging to your skin and showing him the folds of your pussy. Sunoo let out a ragged sigh that was filled with both desire and restraint at the sight.

He looked back up and let his eyes bore into yours. "Talk to me, angel." He whispered, "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

Your eyes went wide as orbs in a flash of shock, you were way too shy and way too overwhelmed by the tension of Kim Sunoo commanding you like this to actually force the words out of your mouth.

Instead of speaking, you broke your hands free from his lingering grip and he let go to let you reach down to hook your fingers into the waistband of your panties, you slid them down your legs slowly. With your whole body feeling like it was on fire and your breath stumbling in your chest, you slowly spread your knees wider right in front of him, using your fingers to gently part the folds of your pussy, exposing your aching cunt directly to his weighted eyes.

Something so hungry settled behind his eyes the second you open yourself up to him, the utter vulnerability of your gesture struck him like a sucker punch and without a word, he reached forward, using his hands to grip the hem of your camisole and slide it up and over your head in one fluid motion, just to toss it away. Your bra followed a second later, the clasp quickly giving way under his expert fingers, the air hitting your skin made your nipples harden but the chill didn't last because Sunoo leaned down and his hot breath fanned across your chest before he pressed a soft kiss to the crest of your right breast. He moved to the left and opened his mouth to securely wrap it around your nipple, he sucked it deep into his mouth, using his tongue to swirl aggressively around the sensitive bud before giving it an intentional nip with his teeth.

A broken gasp tore from your throat, your fingers instantly tangled into the locks on his head, trying to push him closer as your hips twitched off the mattress. "Sunoo—ah," you whimpered.

He gave a low grunt against your skin, clearly pleased by your reaction, he slowly began to work his way down your body. He dragged his lips down the center of your stomach, making his tongue trace a hot line over your ribs, when he got to your navel, he placed a kiss next to it, then placed one on the soft skin of your lower abdomen. Every brush of his mouth was mind numbingly slow but it was building an unbearable tension in the quiet room and you were practically twisting beneath him, just eager for him to reach the ache between your thighs.

When he finally eased between your knees and his handsome face hovered mere inches from your wetness. He leaned in to plant gentle kisses along the sensitive crease of your thigh, making you squirm violently cause your anticipation reached a fever pitch.

He mumbled something you couldn’t make out but before you could even process it to ask what he’d said, he dived in.

The first touch of his tongue was a broad stroke straight up the center of your folds, using it to part them and bury his face completely in your heat. You let out a shriek of a cry, feeling your toes curl into the comforter while he zeroed in on your clit, his lips puckering around the swollen nub as he sucked it directly into his mouth. He used a firm drag and used his tongue to flick against the tip with so much precision that it threatened to blow your mind.

You were totally defenseless underneath him now, having no control of your hands as they left his hair to pull at your sheets, your hips also mindlessly chased the absurdly perfect pressure of his lips against you.

Just when the pleasure began to tighten into a knot in your stomach, Sunoo shifted and snaked his tongue downward, he drove his tongue deep into your leaky hole, like he was mimicking the hypnotic thrusts of a cock. He buried his tongue deeper inside you, drinking you in as your wetness poured over his lips and curling his tongue to stretch it against your tight walls.

"Sunoo! Sunoo, please!" You moaned out loud before throwing your palm over your mouth to cover it, scared of your floor mates hearing your cries from him driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck—I love eating pussy." He said, then slowed down to deliver quick kitten licks to your clit, he tilted his face up and when you looked down for a second, all you could see was lust.

"Have you ever been fingered before, angel?" he asked and you felt it vibrate right against you and you could barely think straight, let alone do the math. "I—I'm not a virgin," you tripped over your words carelessly, you felt that shy feeling again as you tried to form another response that would make you sound at least a little experienced and maybe even cool.

Sunoo responded with an amused sound that sent a quiver right through your whole body, then he lifted his hand and used his slender fingers to press right against the tender opening of your throbbing hole, not actually pushing inside yet but just circling it and teasing the tight ring of muscles until you were practically begging for the contact with every shift of your hips.

"Oh yeah?" he purred, continuing to toy with your entrance. "If you're not a virgin, what's your body count then? Hmm? Tell me."

The teasing question combined with the maddeningly slow rub at your pussy was entirely too much to handle, making your hand fly forward to tangle your fingers firmly into the strands of his hair. With a sudden burst of desperate strength, you pushed his face right back down into your cunt, wordlessly demanding the return of his mouth exactly where you wanted it.

Sunoo laughed right against your inner thigh, all too happy with how demanding and overcome you had become under his touch.

"Eager, aren’t we?" He laughed against your skin, the vibration making you twitch.

He didn't make you wait any longer though while his mouth returned to your sensitive nub, taking it again with a firm laps and sucks, he finally stopped the teasing at your hole. Finally, he slid in a lone finger straight inside your tightness.

A mewl escaped your lips as your walls helplessly clenched around him, your hips bucked upward when he buried the finger all the way to his knuckle, stretching you beautifully while his tongue drove you absolutely insane.

Sunoo caught your rhythm instantly, his long finger pumped deep inside your wet heat with a delicious accuracy. He hooked his finger slightly to catch the sensitive ridge inside you, all the while his tongue never relented its rapid flicking against your now swollen clit. The two fold sensation was completely overwhelming, making you shake and cry out his name but he seemed like he wasn't even close to finished.

With an approving grunt against your folds, he pushed a second finger right inside you and launched into a rapid fire pace. He scissored his fingers inside your pussy, bottoming out while his face stayed buried in your heat. With every upward thrust of his fingers, his nose and lips bumped directly against your clit, providing a blunt friction that threatened to push you over the edge of sanity.

"Sunoo—ah! Wait, please, it's too much, I'm gonna—" You moaned out a string of incomprehensible words, your head thrashing wildly against the pillow as your hands finally ripped at your new bedsheets. Your entire body was taut, like a wire stretched to its absolute limit and vibrating with the impending explosion.

Then, right at the peak of your agonizing suspense, this man pulled his fingers completely out of you, making an aching cry slip from your lips at the sudden loss of friction but before you could even open your eyes to complain, his flat palm came down against your soaking wet cunt.

Smack.

The stinging impact carried in the quiet room and sent a deep surge all over your already overstimulated nerves. Before you could even process the sensation, his hand descended twice more in rapid succession.

Smack. Smack.

The quick blend of the sting and the intense bliss completely broke you. A tearful sob of unalloyed ecstasy left you as your lower half convulsed. Your hips locked, bucking high off the mattress into his hand while your walls were clamping down on air.

"No..." Your fingers dug blindly into the now damp comforter as you tried to blink away the tears of overstimulation. He stayed hovered directly over your shaking thighs with a captivated look in his eyes as he looked down at the dripping mess between your legs.

"No?" he echoed your words in a mocking purr. "But you love it. Look at how your pretty little pussy is gushing all over my hand."

"I—it's too much," you gasped out, shaking your head against the pillow, trying to find your words. "Sunoo, please, I can't—"

Your protest was instantly cut off when his hand came down again to give another resonant slap right against your pussy.

Smack.

You couldn’t even register the impact this time before he slid his fingers right back inside you, sinking them in all the way down. "You can't what?" he asked, his thumb pressing hard against your clit while he pushed his fingers in and out. "Tell me exactly what you can't do while I'm inside you like this."

He pumped them once before ripping them completely out again.

Smack.

Another sharp slap drove the breath right out of your lungs. He was creating an intoxicating cycle of fingering you open and slapping your pussy, and it was so deeply consuming that your thighs began to shake. Your muscles were trembling, now unable to support your own weight as you laid there entirely exposed underneath him.

"Please, Sunoo...please," you sobbed out, feeling like you were completely suspended on the edge and desperate for a release that he keeps dangling just out of your reach.

Seeing you almost broken seemed to make him want to push further, even though his expression softened into that familiar, possessive focus, he still managed to tease you. "Aww. You wanna cum?" He asked you, his tone drifted into something thicker with desire. "You want me to make you cum?"

He left his fingers inside you, finally locking into a pace of pumping in and out of your tightness with such a depth that he was hitting that one spot over and over again. His movements were making wet squelch of your pussy fill the room till it was all you could hear.

As your hips blindly chased the rhythm of his hand, Sunoo leaned down and wrapped his plush lips right around your clit which was now even more sensitive from the slaps he’d given it, one more time. He sucked the swollen bead deep into his mouth and that was all it took for him to finally make you cum. You felt your whole body wound tight like a bowstring, your thighs shaking uncontrollably against his shoulders.

"Sunoo! Oh my fucking g—Ah!" You screamed for him into the empty room, crying out a chorus of breathless praises as your walls clenched down on his fingers in tight waves.

Sunoo didn't slow down for a second, all he wanted to do was drink he in your release and he did, using his tongue to lap up your juices while his fingers never stopped pumping inside you, he was deliberately riding you right through every single convulsion of your orgasm until you completely melted into the mattress, panting.

He stayed lingering between your quivering legs while your breathes came out in pants and the aftershocks of your orgasm began the fade. He gave your clit one last soft kiss, making your hips twitch weakly against the mattress, then he planted lingering kisses on the smooth skin of your left inner thigh and then your right, treating your body with a different kind of gentleness, far from how he was just slapping you moments ago.

He adjusted himself until his chin was propped on your lower belly and he was comfortably resting his head right against your thigh. He looked up the entire length of your body but your eyes were closed so tightly that your eyelids were practically vibrating, even your hands were still clutching the pillows.

A soft laugh bubbled out of his chest at the sight. "Mmm," he sounded out, letting it vibrate right against your skin. "Are you going to look at me, angel?"

You swallowed hard and felt the warmth spread deep in your chest, you fluttered your eyes open to look down past your chest, only to find his lidded eyes staring back at you. When your eyes met, an all too satisfied smile broke across his handsome face. He deliberately swiped his tongue over his bottom lip and the corners where your wetness still was, he was tasting you entirely unbothered. "You taste amazing," he told you directly and devoid of any hesitation. "Seriously. Perfect."

The bluntness of his praise made your brain completely melt and you let out an embarrassed groan, throwing your head back against the pillow to intentionally look away toward the ceiling to hide just how flustered he was making you.

But Sunoo was not done teasing you. Seeing your reaction, he moved closer with a serious glint appearing in his eyes. "You know...I can go again right now," he told you so confidently and you knew he wasn't bragging either, the hunger in his expression made it incredibly clear that he was entirely serious and he really, truly did love eating pussy. "I could stay down here all night if you let me."

The thought of enduring all that pleasure with the edging and teasing again when you were already completely spent made a bolt of panic shoot through you. Prior to him even moving a muscle, you quickly scrambled backward up the bed, your hands and knees kicked out as you frantically retreated until your back hit the headboard and you were clutching the comforter to your chest.

Sunoo burst into a loud laugh at your escape, his shoulders shaking as he sat back on his heels, to watch your wide eyed expression with a clearer view. He stretched his arm to pick his jacket off the floor and watching him hold the jacket made a different kind of panic hit you, the sudden worry that he was about to walk out the door made you sit up straighter against the headboard.

"Wait, are you leaving?" you asked, ignoring the way your voice was tight with anxiety.

He paused, holding the jacket in one hand as he looked back at you. A heavy sigh escaped his lips and his shoulders dropped slightly. "Because you just scrambled to the other side of the bed, angel," he explained softly, in a voice so full of a gentle restraint, it confused you. He ran a hand through his hair and gestured down toward the prominent tent in his trousers. "Look, we really shouldn't go any further than this tonight. I really, really wanted to—trust me—but I didn't want to rush you."

You stared at him for a beat and the remaining distance between you on the mattress felt too wide. "You're not, I promise," you tried to convince him.

Sunoo froze, his eyes searching yours while he looked like he was fighting an internal battle, his jaw all tight like he was trying to maintain his willpower while your naked body was completely exposed to him.

Deciding to end the hesitation, you asked the exact question that completely broke his mind. "Don't you want to fuck me?"

Sunoo actually stuttered, all his cool frat boy attitude evaporated in a matter of seconds. "W-what?" he blinked, his mouth opening slightly like his brain was slowing down on him.

Before he could recover his senses or talk himself out of it, you grabbed him firmly by the front of his shirt and you pulled him right back down onto the mattress with a surge of confidence. You immediately swung your leg over his hips to straddle his lap and settle right over his thighs. You watched the initial surprise on his face wear off before you leaned down closer to his ear, letting your breath reach his skin. "You should stay," you whispered against his neck, placing a kiss there. "I'm a little bit good at riding dick."

A rough growl left him and a dark smirk sliced across his face. "Oh really? Show me then," he challenged you.

Without breaking eye contact, his hands moved to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his trousers to push them down along with his boxers. Because you were straddling his lap, he only managed to get his pants down to his knees but it was more than enough for both of you. His dick sprang free and you took a moment to admire him, he was a fair size, thick and heavy and absolutely perfect in your opinion.

Slowly, you reached down, using your fingers to close around the pulsing length of him. The moment your hand wrapped around his shaft, your eyes widened because right before your eyes, his dick throbbed and grew noticeably bigger in your palm, filling out your grip until your thumb that was touching your other fingers couldn’t anymore.

A quiet gasp escaped your lips, making Sunoo give you a melodic laugh. "I'm a grower, not a shower, angel," he teased you, reaching up to use his thumb to gently wipe a stray tear of pleasure from your cheek.

But his arrogant laugh turned into a dramatic pout a second later as reality set in. He looked up at you with a look of frustration. "Fuck," he muttered. "I don't have a condom on me. My wallet is in my car."

To his complete surprise, you didn't look even a little disappointed. You simply shifted over and reached your hand toward your bedside table drawer to pop it open and pull out a square foil wrapper, holding it up between your fingers with a smile.

Sunoo gawked at you, "You're really full of surprises, aren't you?" he breathed out, just stunned by your preparation.

You tore the wrapper open with your teeth, placing the latex cap against the tip of his leaking cock and slowly rolling it all the way down the length of him.

The tight friction of your hands wrapping around him caused Sunoo to let out a sharp hiss, his back arched a little off the mattress while his knuckles turned white from gripping your hips.

Sunoo looked down as you aligned his cock to your still wet pussy carefully before pushing up while you sat down in one slow move. The initial stretch was immediate and thick, it forced a whine from your lips as your body unraveled on top of him. He paused for a beat, his hands bracing against your hips as he looked up at your face, checking your expression to see how you took him.

"Feel that?" he murmured in a heavy rumble.

You could only nod your head, your fingers sinking into the muscles of his shoulders as you focused on the feeling of him filling you out completely. He started to move with a calm rhythm, letting you left up until he was completely out before pushing back up and burying himself all the way back inside. The friction was delicious, like a deep heat that had your thighs loosening completely to welcome the pace.

He let out a low groan, clenching his jaw as he picked up the speed. Every thrust was deep and solid, anchoring him to the bed as the wet sounds of your hips plopping down on him met your ears.

You rolled your hips subtly, like you were testing the waters and a strained hum slipped past Sunoo's throat. His hands immediately tightened on your hips, pinning you in place before you could lift yourself up again. "Don't—Don’t do that yet," he groaned, his eyes squeezed shut, looking fully caught off guard by how good it felt just to have your pussy wrapped around his cock like this. "Just give me a second. You're so tight, it's driving me crazy."

A confident smile played on your lips as you looked down at his flushed skin and heavy eyes. "I told you I was good at this," you whispered, deliberately tilting your pelvis just a fraction to watch his jaw clench.

Sunoo hummed loudly at the little bit of friction. "Yeah, you weren't lying," he admitted while that familiar smirk slowly came back to his face as he ran his hands up the sides of your thighs and up to your waist, tracing the trembling muscles. "But I'm starting to catch my breath, baby girl. Why don't you show me what else you can do?"

You slowly lifted your hips at his command, sliding up the heavy length of him until you were barely hovering on the head, then sinking back down all the way to the root. Once you were bottomed out against his pelvis, you began to grind your hips in a rolling circle, deliberately showing off just how well you could control the friction.

Sunoo let out a long breath, his head dropped back against the pillow and he used his eyes to track the circular tilt of your torso. "Yeahhh," he growled out, his voice thick and rough as he watched you dominate him. "Just like that, angel. Keep doing that."

The feeling of him shifting and turning inside your slick walls was completely overwhelming. You threw your head back and moaned out loud. "Sunoo...you're so deep," you whimpered, feeling your internal muscles clench tightly around his shaft with every rolling movement of your pelvis. "You're stretching me so much."

Hearing your undone voice broke whatever tiny shred of control he had left, his expression hardened in front of you and when you were about to go for another roll of your waist, his hands grabbed at your waist. With new strength, he pushed your upper body down toward the side of his and altered your angle completely, then he securely locked arms around your waist, pinning your hips flat against his pelvis so you couldn't lift yourself or escape the depth unless he let you.

Without giving you a second to adjust, Sunoo bucked his hips upward with a forceful thrust, slamming deep into your pussy, his length hit every sweet spot of yours with an unrelenting accuracy. A scream caught in your chest as he kept your lower half locked in place, his hips snapped upward over and over again, totally taking over the rhythm and driving you wild.

Every time he fucked his cock up into you, his length bottomed out perfectly until your mind was threatening to go blank.

He was fucking you so good that you didn't care about anything else, you didn't care that his dirty shoes were dragging across your clean sheets or that the mattress was already ruined from the sheer amount of wetness dripping from your core. None of it mattered except the way he was stretching you open.

"Right there...ah! Sunoo, right there!" you cried out, clinging to his shoulders. Your upper body thrashed against him and your inner walls clenched around him in waves that got tighter and tighter. "It's so deep...you're too deep."

"You like how deep I am, baby? Tell me you like it," Sunoo was getting breathless, a groan came out from him as he thrust up even harder, his pelvis slamming against yours. He looked up at you at the side of him, overly captivated by the way you were taking him. "God, you feel so fucking good. You're squeezing me so tight, you don’t want me to leave?"

"I can't...I can't take all of it," you whimpered, your head falling forward as another heavy surge pushed you closer to the edge.

"Yes, you can," he countered. "Why you telling me you can’t take it?" He asked. "Don’t tell me you can’t take it."

He moved his grip to your back, right at your tailbone. "You're taking every single inch of this cock like a good girl. You were made for me, hm? Look at how perfectly you fit around me."

The praise was so intoxicating, like a delicious mix of control and submission to how good you made him feel. It drove a sudden shift in your body, the tightening of your inner walls let him know exactly how close you were to the edge but then you broke loose from his grip on your waist and sat up straight on his dick. Starting to bounce yourself on his cock all on your own, you lifted your hips high before plunging all the way down, taking every single inch of him in quick bounces.

He fell back against the pillows with an excited grin on his face. He looked hypnotized, like the visual of you alone just dominating the pace had him under your spell. "Yeah, just like that," he panted, his voice taking on a submissive undertone, you could’ve sworn you saw the switch in his eyes. "Use me, ma. Take whatever you want from me."

He let his large hands reach up a path of fire along your waist before moving up to caress your breasts. He cupped them, finding your nipples with his thumbs and pinching them firmly, the quick jolt of pleasure made you cry out and your pace turned even more frantic.

Wanting to connect with you through the intensity, Sunoo tried to lock his fingers with yours but you didn’t seem to be having it. So consumed by the fast approaching orgasm that was coming your way, you shoved his hands away and brought your own hands up to grip at your hair as you threw your head back.

"Sunoo, I'm so fucking close," you gasped out, your torso arching as you kept up the brutal rhythm. "I'm so close—You’re going to make me cum! Ahh!"

He let out a dramatic pout, softening his eyes into a look of mock hurt even though his hips were still trying to match your pace. "You don't wanna hold hands with me?" he complained in a whine.

You completely ignored his teasing and moved one knee to plant your foot flat on the mattress. Bracing both of your hands firmly against his chest for leverage, you started bouncing even harder, using the new angle to drive his length deeper and faster into your pussy.

"Oh, shit," Sunoo eyes grew wide as he lost his mind.

The feeling of your tight walls squeezing him with that much force, combined with the view of you completely taking charge and taking exactly what you needed from his body, was entirely consuming him. The thought of being completely used by you, of being your toy for the moment, turned him on to a dangerous degree. His cool demeanor was shattered and the deep groans he had been making earlier dissolved into needy whines that echoed loudly with every heavy strike of your hips.

"Am I...am I doing good for you?" The words tumbled out in a too eager rush. He fucked up a little, trying to use his hands on your waist for leverage. "Do you like it? Do you like my cock, ma?"

You opened your eyes and blinked past the haze of your pleasure to look down at him. What you found on his face was the absolute neediest expression you had ever seen on anyone. He wanted you to praise him—in fact, looking at the now dilated pupils of his eyes, it was clear he desperately needed it.

You willingly obliged, leaning down slightly so your voice could carry over the wet friction of your bodies meeting. "I love it, Sunoo," you told him, trying to sound as certain as you could so he would know what he was doing to you too. "I love your cock so much. You're fucking me so good."

You could see the praise slap him across the face and he whined out loudly and threw his head back against the pillows. His chest heaved and his jaw clenched tight, shaking at your approval as you continued to take exactly what you wanted from him.

Seeing him like that, so vulnerable and hanging on your every word, made you feel powerful in a way you had never experienced before. The utter thrill of rewriting the social hierarchy right here on your bed made a rush of new adrenaline run straight to your core. You leaned over him farther so you could continue feeding his hunger for approval.

"You're such a good boy, Sunoo," you murmured to him, making sure your voice was dripping with sweet control. "Look at how pretty you look when you're being used."

He let out a shattered sob at the words, his hips lifting off the bed in a weak, involuntary twitch that buried his length as deep as it could possibly go.

"You like being used, hm?"

"Yes! Y/n—Oh my fuck—I love it!"

When a sudden surge of confidence hit you, you slid one hand flat against his panting chest and pushed the fabric of his shirt upward. You tracked down to his chest and pinched his nipple firmly between your fingers.

Sunoo cried out a sound that echoed off the walls, immediately grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away, his eyes wide and blown out from overstimulation. "Ah! Stop, please—stop!" he whined desperately, his head thrashing against the pillow. "You're gonna make me—if you keep doing that, I'm gonna cum right now!"

Despite his verbal pleading, his body was completely betraying him. The absolute overload of pleasure shifted his instinct into overdrive and he began thrusting back up into you from below. His movements were no longer smooth or calculated, they were so uncoordinated now, with his pelvis slamming up against your thighs with a messy hunger.

But even with the lack of coordination, he was hitting that exact spot inside you with every single thrust of his hips. The friction was hot and so devastating, you left like you were in the verge of crying with the way your own body was tightening up, leaving you just seconds away from cumming too.

Your vision blurred at the edges as the orgasm coiled tightly in your lower stomach. Instead of letting go, you leaned your weight heavily onto his chest, pinning him down.

"You're gonna make me cum, Sunoo," you gasped out to him, your voice breaking as you tightened your grip, pinching his nipple even harder against his chest.

"Fuck, okay, okay—then cum with me, please!" he begged in a needy whine.

Desperate to match your pace and drag you over the edge with him, Sunoo let go of your wrist and slid his hand down between your bodies, slipping his fingers through the slick wetness at the base of his shaft until his thumb found your swollen clit. He began to rub you with a fast pressure to match the drive of his hips pushing up into your pussy.

You felt like you were going completely insane, the volume of physical sensation and psychological dominance were blurring together into a dizzying haze. Sunoo felt the shift and his large hand ran back to your hips and gripped the bone with sore might to anchor you down. A guttural sound left him from the very back of his throat, his entire torso stiffened beneath you as he mewled out, "I'm gonna cum—fuck, I'm cumming!"

The latex barrier filled quickly between your bodies, quaking with the heat of his cum but he did not stop thrusting. Even as his own climax tore through him and shattered his strength, his hips kept moving upward into you in stubborn determination, he was focused on making you too and you were so close to the edge you could practically taste it.

The feeling of his thumb rubbing against your clit became too overwhelming and the angle changed again just enough to drive you mad. Desperate for a different type of release, you pushed his hand away from your core while leaning back slightly, your hands shook uncontrollably as you took matters into them. Emulating the aggressive pressure he had used earlier, you entered into switching between rapid rubs and sharp slaps against your swollen clit.

Sunoo stared, pinned to the mattress as he watched you pleasure yourself and ride his overstimulated cock just so you could get yourself off. The explicit sight of you taking total control of your own orgasm while riding out the dying pulses of his release destroyed his senses.

The combination of his stubborn movements and the brutal stimulation from your own fingers pushed you beautifully over the precipice. Your walls clamped down with a vice like tightness, they contracted so violently that your body literally forced his cock to slide right out of you. The sudden, rolling waves of your orgasm took over quickly and your back arched into a rigid line, your fingers digging into your hair as your core gave way, causing you to squirt heavily and repeatedly all over his cock and his lower pelvis. Sunoo’s eyes rolled back as the wet torrent soaked his skin, leaving both of you completely ruined and gasping for air in the tangled sheets.

"Oh, fuck..." he panted as he looked up at you. "That was so hot. You are incredible."

Completely spent and trembling from the aftershocks of the climax, you let your muscles give out, making you slump forward to collapse directly onto his chest. Sunoo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against his warm skin. For a few long moments, the only sound in the room was the synchronized heaves of your breathing, until a quiet chuckle escaped your lips at the thought of what you had just done. Sunoo caught the infection of it and the two of you began laughing softly against each other, feeling as though the high strung tension of the night had finally dissolved into an exhausted but comfortable warmth.

He smoothed a hand down your back, letting his fingers trace the line of your spine as his laughter trailed off into a satisfied sigh. He kissed the top of your head and said something but his voice was muffled by your hair for the beginning part. "—so glad I rigged that stupid raffle."

The words hit your ears like a splash of ice water and the warmth in your chest vanished in an instant. You froze and the sudden stiffness in your shoulders caused his hands to pause their stroking.

You sat up slowly and stared into his face, your eyes wide in disbelief and sudden realization.

"What?"

© nephynes 2026

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