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he closes his eyes, replaying the moment: you grinding low during the choreo, hips swaying in a way that was too tempting, your laughter echoing in the green room afterward as you high-fived everyone, your touch lingering on his arm just a second too long. "fuck," he mutters, stroking himself slowly at first, imagining it's your hand instead. in his mind, you're there with him, straddling his lap, whispering his name while you ride him, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. he pictures the way your lips would part in a moan, how you'd grip his shoulders, nails digging in as you chase your high. his pace quickens, breath hitching, the fantasy building — you arching back, crying out as he fills you up. sweat beads on his forehead, and he bites his lip to stifle a groan, coming hard with your name on his tongue. panting, he stares at the ceiling, guilt mixing with satisfaction. tomorrow's practice is gonna be torture.

PARK JONGSEONG

jay wipes down the kitchen counter in the dorm, trying to distract himself from the chaos of the day. you'd all been filming a cooking segment for en-log, and you — assigned as his partner — had been a total tease without even trying. bending over to grab ingredients from the lower shelf, your skirt riding up just enough to flash a glimpse of thigh, or the way you licked sauce off your finger while tasting his dish, eyes meeting his with an innocent "mmm, so good, jay." it was torture, his mind racing even then.

now, late at night with everyone asleep, he locks himself in the bathroom, turning on the shower to mask any noise. steam fills the air as he steps under the hot water, but it's your image that heats him up. he leans against the tiles, hand wrapping around his length, pumping steadily as he remembers: you giggling when flour dusted your nose, leaning close to wipe it off him, your breath warm on his skin. in the fantasy, it's not the kitchen — it's here, you pressed against him in the shower, water cascading over your naked body as you drop to your knees. "let me take care of you," you'd say, lips wrapping around him, sucking slow and deep while your hands tease his balls. he groans low, hips bucking into his fist, imagining your tongue swirling, eyes looking up at him all needy. the thought of you swallowing him down pushes him over, cum spilling onto the shower floor as he whispers your name, body trembling. he rinses off, but the ache lingers — he wants the real thing.

SIM JAEYUN

jake flops onto his bed after the long rehearsal, muscles aching but mind buzzing. today's practice had been intense, with you leading the vocal warm-ups, your voice smooth and sultry as you hit those high notes effortlessly. but it was when you stretched afterward, arching your back in that tight tank top, nipples faintly visible through the fabric, that really got to him. you caught him staring, smirking with a "what?" that made his cheeks burn.

alone now, door locked, he doesn't waste time — pants shoved down, hand fisting his cock as he scrolls through his phone for a quick pic from the group chat, one of you mid-laugh from earlier. but it's the memory that fuels him: you bending during dance breaks, ass on display in those leggings, or the way you hugged him post-rehearsal, body pressing close enough to feel your heat. he imagines pulling you into the empty studio, hands roaming under your shirt, pinching those perky nipples while you whimper. "jake, please," you'd beg, and he'd spin you around, bending you over the mirror, thrusting into you from behind. the fantasy plays out — your moans echoing, walls clenching around him as he pounds harder, watching your reflection shatter with pleasure. his strokes speed up, thumb circling the tip, and he cums with a muffled curse, spilling over his hand. wiping up, he sighs, knowing one glance from you tomorrow will start it all over again.

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon skates lazy circles on the empty rink, but his thoughts are far from the ice. earlier at the fanmeet, you'd worn that off-shoulder top, leaning forward to sign albums and giving him (and probably others) a teasing view of your cleavage. you turned to him with a smile, asking for a pen, your fingers brushing his in a way that sent sparks up his arm. professional as ever, he played it cool, but now...

back in his room, lights off, he sheds his clothes and slides under the covers, hand gliding down his abs to grip himself firmly. the cool air contrasts with his growing heat as he recalls: you biting your lip during the Q&A, legs crossed in that short skirt, or the accidental brush of your thigh against his under the table. in his head, it's post-event, you sneaking into his hotel room, stripping slow while he watches. "hoonie, touch me," you'd whisper, guiding his hand between your legs, already wet for him. he'd finger you open, then flip you onto all fours, sliding in deep with a groan. the rhythm builds in his mind — slapping skin, your back arching as he pulls your hair, hitting that spot until you scream his name. his hand moves faster, twisting at the head, and release crashes over him, sticky warmth coating his fingers. he cleans up quietly, but the crush burns brighter — how long can he hide it?

KIM SUNOO

sunoo scrolls through tiktok in bed, but his feed blurs as memories from the photoshoot flood back. you in that sheer blouse, posing with effortless grace, wind machine blowing your hair just right to accentuate your curves. during breaks, you shared snacks with him, feeding him a strawberry with a wink that made his heart skip. innocent? maybe, but it ignited something fierce.

with the dorm quiet, he dims his phone and lets his free hand wander, palming himself through his boxers before freeing his erection. soft gasps escape as he strokes languidly, picturing the scene: you alone in the dressing room after, calling him in with a sultry "sunoo, help me unzip?" he'd oblige, hands trembling as the fabric falls, revealing lace underneath. in the fantasy, you push him onto the couch, grinding on his lap, lips crashing in a heated kiss. "want you so bad," you'd moan, sinking down onto him, riding slow at first then frantic. he imagines your breasts in his face, sucking marks on your neck as you bounce, tight heat enveloping him perfectly. his pace matches the vision, hips lifting off the bed, and he cums quietly into a tissue, body shuddering. smiling to himself, he wonders if you feel the tension too — maybe one day he'll find out.

YANG JUNGWON

jungwon reviews the day's vlog footage on his laptop, pausing on clips of you. leader duties had him organizing the group outing, but watching you splash in the pool, bikini clinging to your wet skin, laughter ringing out — it was distracting as hell. you cannonballed right next to him, surfacing with a grin, water dripping from your lashes like some siren.

laptop shut now, he lies back in the dark, hand dipping into his sweats as arousal builds. he tugs rhythmically, mind replaying: you toweling off, fabric hugging every curve, or the way you leaned on his shoulder during the group photo, scent intoxicating. fantasy takes over — he pulls you into the changing room, locking the door, mouths hungry as clothes hit the floor. "wonnie, fuck me," you'd plead, legs wrapping around him as he lifts you against the wall, thrusting deep and steady. the imagined sounds — your gasps, the wet slap of bodies — drive him wild, hand flying faster. he envisions pinning you down, pounding until you're both spent, cum leaking out as you tremble beneath him. climax hits hard, spilling over his knuckles with a low moan. catching his breath, he thinks about tomorrow's schedule — being around you is sweet agony.

NISHIMURA RIKI

riki bounces a basketball in his room, but it's no use — the energy from the dance battle still lingers, especially with you as his opponent. you matched his moves step for step, body rolling in ways that were hypnotic, ending with a hip thrust that had the hyungs cheering but him flustered. post-battle, you ruffled his hair, calling him "cute" in a voice that wasn't sisterly at all.

ball forgotten, he crashes onto the bed, shoving a hand down his pants, gripping hard as need takes over. he's young, but the crush is real, fueled by today's tease: your tank top riding up mid-spin, exposing toned abs, or the sweat-slicked neck he wanted to kiss. in his wild imagination, you corner him in the practice room after everyone leaves, pushing him against the mirror. "riki, show me what else you can do," you'd say, hands exploring as you drop to your knees, taking him in your mouth with eager sucks. he'd thread fingers in your hair, guiding gently at first then deeper, your throat tight around him. the thought evolves — you bent over, him sliding in from behind, young stamina letting him go hard and fast until you both collapse. strokes frantic now, he cums with a gasp, wiping away evidence. blushing, he hopes you never guess his secret fantasies.

© jongst4r, 2025

Your thumb was caressing the underside of him, touching a prominent vein that made his body tense. Your mouth felt like heaven around his cock, your tongue hot and wet and massaging him in ways his own hand could never compare. Fucking you was a thousand times better, but he could never get enough of the view of you on your knees between his legs. There was something about it that would get him rock hard in an instant.

You were just getting started, and he already seemed like he was ready to come. Pulling off, you stroke him vigorously, a sharp breath punching out of him when you move your hand too fast.

He grunts as his hips push up into your fist. He wanted to run away, but there was nowhere for him to go. Your chest was pressing into his knees, and he would actually punch himself in the dick if he interfered with the view of your pushed-up cleavage.

“Stop,” he grits out, “I’m gonna come.” Ni-ki digs his fingers into the leather couch, trying to keep his bearings because now you look far too encouraged after he said that. With your eyes locked on his, you let your tongue fall out of your mouth, saliva dripping and coating his dick. This is porn. This is quite literally real life porn.

You smirk when Ni-ki sinks into the couch and throws his arm over his eyes. “Come in my mouth,” you purr, flicking the tip of his cock with your tongue.

Everything feels ten times worse because he’s not looking at you right now, but he knows exactly what kind of face you’re making. Your dark, seductive eyes zeroing in on his weak state as your lips push up into a saccharine smile. It sends him over before he can even register it, your lips suctioning the head of his cock in an instant and drinking up his release.

He groans, unable to handle you literally sucking the life out of him, but you’re still not done. You spit and slurp around his tip more, joy flooding you when he lets out a pained sound, his cock extremely sensitive after just finishing.

He’s gonna die. Ni-ki thought you were gonna end him, right there, with your mouth encasing him in orgasmic, wet warmth and his balls tensing up, ready to spill another load.

You took him to the back of your throat in one swift push, the heavy thickness of his cock filling your mouth beautifully. You moaned around him and watched him shudder as you peered up through your lashes.

It couldn’t have been any worse timing for Jake and Heeseung to walk in with a new video game in hand. Ni-ki mentally cursed his beautiful girlfriend for forgetting to lock the door, but technically, he shared half the blame because he saw the look in your eyes as you palmed his cock and told him to pull down his pants. Unfortunately, all the blood had left his brain and shot straight to his boner. There was no clear thinking when he knew what you had in store for him. A mind-blowing, overstimulating, body-shaking blowjob that he was now coming to regret. 

“Oh shit,” Jake cursed when his eyes landed on you between Ni-ki’s thighs with your nose flush to his pubic bone.

Anyone could grasp the situation with a glance. What made Ni-ki really regret letting you seduce him was the fact that he was right on edge, so the shock of them walking in, coupled with the pleasure of your succubus-like mouth, made him come harder than he ever had.

His body hunched over as you continued to swallow him down, not caring much that you currently had an audience. If anything, you felt you were saving a bit of Ni-ki’s dignity and preventing further trauma to his hyungs by keeping your mouth around his cock. Your lips were kissing the base of him, meaning they couldn’t see anything other than Ni-ki coming like a fool with your pretty mouth working him over. 

“Get out get out get out,” Ni-ki frantically wheezes. He was not looking up. That was not an option right now. Not when he was experiencing the most intense blowjob of his entire life, and he could physically feel his soul vacating his body.

They were not moving fast enough for Ni-ki, though, and you were no help. You moaned around his cock as you swallowed the last of his cum, the vibrations practically killing him if he didn’t already feel like he was dead. His stomach caved and his hands flew to squeeze your shoulders, a silent plea for you to stop before you made him any worse off.

Extremely red-faced, Heeseung grabs onto Jake’s hoodie and drags him out of the room. Ni-ki hears a high-pitched ‘sorry’ from one of them on the way out. They both needed counseling after what they just witnessed. And a cold shower.

When you heard the door slamming, you slowly pulled off his cock, a devilish smile curling on your lips as you licked them clean of any spit or cum. With a deep huff, Ni-ki tucks himself into his pants before you can get any other ideas. He can already imagine what the group chat is gonna look like later on today, and he knows that if you had it your way, you would really give them something to talk about.

Ni-ki narrows his eyes at you when you stand up. “You were enjoying that too much.”

You kick the door shut behind you, "Cause men are the worst and I'm tired of kissing so many frogs just because I want a prince!"

"Tell me more."

He says softly and sets his laptop aside as you dramatically throw yourself onto the end of his bed with a groan loud enough to let him know you're genuinely upset. You stare at the ceiling before you start ranting again. "First of all, he had the personality of a plastic spork and I'm not even joking, the conversation was so bad, like a solid three out of ten."

"This man," you continue, pointing accusingly at absolutely nothing, "had the audacity to insinuate that he would only pay for dinner if I was going home with him!"

Jace's eyebrows immediately pull together. "What? That's so messed up."

"Exactly." You sigh before sitting up abruptly again. "He said it like he thought it was charming and sexy too. Like I was supposed to giggle and throw my panties at him across the table."

You watch as Jace grimaces at your words, "Please tell me you didn't stay after he said that?"

Damn. How do you tell your best friend that not only did you stay you actually went home with this guy and had sex with him? If you could call that sex.  "I was very horny, okay? I'm literally ovulating and I thought ugh maybe the sex could be good?" Yeah, that works.

"Oh come on, Y/n. You're better than that." He seems so disappointed in you that you have to try to ignore the fact that he even let the conversation get this far.

"And not to add to your disappointment but the sex absolutely sucked. Just added a body to my count and that brings me to a whoppingggg...two." You say and start giggling to yourself

Jace lets out the most disbelieving laugh imaginable. "Oh my God."

"It was so bad, Jace. Like genuinely horrible. I've had more chemistry with self checkout machines." That manages to get a startled laugh out of him. "He kept asking me if I liked that every three seconds."

If you'd just slow down to take a look at your best friend's face, you'd see a smirk you'd never seen before but of course you don't cause you're so mad at the whole situation, more at yourself too. "And then when I tried to—like—guide him a little?" You gesture wildly. "He got defensive."

"Hmm, defensive how?" He asks, eyeing you weirdly now. "Defensive like when I tried to guide his fingers to my actual clit he—"

Your words are cut off by the door swinging open and your irritation immediately flares at the sight of who is standing in the doorway, shifting your gaze back to the twin on the bed, you let out a groan of annoyance. "Seriously, Jake? Can you give us five minutes of peace?" you mutter, rolling your eyes toward the doorway, expecting to see Jace's twin brother hovering there with his usual grating smirk.

But instead the room just goes dead silent and curiosity forces you to actually look at the person standing in the threshold. You rake your eyes over him, ready to snap some insult about him intruding on your conversation but the words die in your throat. Because why is he standing there so confused and wearing his brother's clothes and carrying his textbooks?

Why is the custom silver bag chain you had to hunt down for Jace's birthday hanging from Jake's bag?

Your stomach drops in a sickening free fall sensation. If that's Jace...then who the hell are you sitting next to?

"What are you even talking about?" the twin standing in the door asks, his voice threaded with a weary frustration. He looks between you and the bed, his brow furrowing deeper. "Jake, I told you—I don't know how many times I have to say this—stay the hell out of my room when I'm not here. Why are you even here?"

You slowly turn your head to look at the person sitting on the bed and he's already watching you, his gaze no longer just amused, it's now sharp, and terrifyingly aware of the fact that you have just realized exactly who he is. He's also completely dropped the persona of his brother he'd been carrying, there's something in the way his eyes can go from earnest and sweet just like his brothers to predatory so quickly.

This isn't the first time, maybe that’s why you feel the sting that makes your vision blur with heat so quickly. Jake has made a sport of this, a twisted game of shadows where he slips into his brother's life just to see how long it takes for you to figure it out. But your anger isn't just directed at him this time around, it's the way he makes you feel so stupid you can’t stand. You've known Jace for years, he’s your best friend and yet you just laid your entire sexual history bare to a predator in a compression shirt because he mirrored an earnest tilt of the head and a quiet "Tell me more."

Jace lets out a breath that sounds more like a groan, "Jake," he says in a frustrated but practiced tone. "Get off my bed. Now."

Jake doesn't move immediately, still lingering in the dip of the mattress and watching the way your chest pants with outraged breaths. Only when Jace takes a step further into the room does Jake finally rise, moving with an infuriating lack of urgency and stretching in the mirror. You watch as his muscles pull taut against that borrowed shirt—Jace's shirt.

"Relax, professor. I'm leaving," Jake says, his voice losing the faux earnest quality he'd used to bait you just a moment ago. Now he’s just Jake, arrogant and loud Jake. "Mom called. She wanted me to tell you that if you don't call her back by six to confirm for Sunday dinner, she's going to stop by your lab and embarrass you in front of your recluse friends."

"That could have been a text, Jake. A five second text. You didn't need to come here."

Jake tilts his head, a lazy, jagged grin cutting across his face. "I know," he smiles wider, the amusement dancing in his tone. "But where's the fun in a text? I prefer the personal touch."

He begins to move toward the door, his shoulder intentionally brushing yours as he attempts to pass. But then he stops and leans in, letting the heat radiate off his skin in a way that makes you want to scramble backward but you're pinned by the stupid audacity of his proximity.

His lips hover inches from the shell of your ear, dropping his voice into a low volume that Jace couldn't possibly catch over the sound of his own frustrated rustling.

"For what it's worth, baby doll," he breathes, "I could definitely get you off. And I promise you wouldn't have to show me where anything was. I'd find it just fine on my own."

So now, Jungwon is alone in a sea of legacy kids and meatheads, feeling the heaviness of the fraternity's history pressing down on him from the dark wood paneling of the walls.

At the front of the hall, the requirement officer stepped onto a raised platform. He was a senior with a cold smirk that suggested he enjoyed this part of the job a little too much, he definitely enjoyed the way the room went dead silent as he leaned into the microphone.

"Congratulations on making it this far, pledges," he began, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. "But before you get your pins, there is one final requirement. A test of charm, stealth and most importantly, this is a test of audacity."

"By midnight, every one of you must retrieve a pair of panties from a girl currently residing in a sorority house. And because some of you cum socks tried to raid a laundry hamper last year, there's a new rule—you must return with the girl in person. If she isn't here with you by the time the clock strikes twelve, do not bother coming back at all."

A collective groan rippled through the hall but Jungwon didn't move. While the other guys started panicking and checking their contact lists, a spark of memory ignited in his mind.

He didn't have many connections on campus yet but he remembered a girl he'd bumped into during a motivational seminar during orientation week. He'd thought you were cute, smart too but in the chaos of that first week, he'd forgotten to get your name or your number. He only knew two things—you were a freshman just like him and you were rushing a sorority on campus.

He checked his watch, it was already 10:50 PM. He had less than two hours to find a girl whose name he didn't know and convince you to participate in a ridiculous fraternity hazing ritual.

Jungwon couldn't stop the rush of pure disbelief he felt thinking of how ridiculous this was, he had expected something difficult, perhaps even something a little humiliating but this was a proper fucking nightmare. He didn't just want to finish this for himself anymore, he also wanted to get through it just so he could hold it over Jake's head for the rest of the semester.

The cool night air hit Jungwon's face as he shoved past the heavy oak doors, his mind already racing through the grid of the greek row. His anger toward Jake hadn't fully dissipated but it was being rapidly replaced by a singular focus.

He knew the top tier houses were clustered on the north side of the row. If you had succeeded in your rush and looking the way you did, he had no doubt yeah no doubt you had, you'd be in one of those three houses.

He reached the steps of the first house, the music from an indoor social thumping through the brick walls. He took a breath, smoothed down his shirt and prepared to start the search. He didn't just need those panties, he also really needed the chance to finally finish the conversation he'd started three weeks ago.

Jungwon didn't waste any time, he was swinging open random doors, bracing himself for screams or a face full of pepper spray but instead he was met with a bizarre sense of normalcy. The girls inside the house weren't even flinching, they were mostly lounging on beds or scrolling on their phones, looking at the sudden influx of frantic freshmen with a mixture of boredom and amusement. He figured there had to be some long standing or unspoken agreement between their houses, from a tradition passed down through years of greek life that made this ridiculous raid an expected annual event.

The house was quickly becoming a circus, with guys everywhere, some attempting smooth pick up lines that fell flat, while others were literally on their knees, begging for a scrap of fabric like their lives depended on it.

Jungwon shook his head, trying not to laugh as he watched a fellow pledge nearly burst into tears over a refusal. He turned to scan the main dining area and that's when the world seemed to sharpen.

Because there you were, sitting at the long oak dining table, tucked into a conversation with another girl. You were leaning back, laughing at the absolute absurdity of the boys swarming the room. The moment your eyes drifted toward him, the laughter stayed on your lips but your expression shifted into a look of genuine recognition.

"Oh," you say, your voice cutting through the chaos of the room as you tilted your head. "Orientation boy?"

Jungwon't heart did a strange skip, he'd spent a month kicking himself for not getting your name or number after that seminar and now, standing in the middle of a panty raid, he felt like he'd finally caught the break he'd been looking for.

"I'm surprised you remember, it's Jungwon, by the way," he said, closing the distance between you, his confidence returning tenfold. He leaned against the table, ignoring the other pledges scrambling around.

"Y/n."

"I've spent the last three weeks trying to remember your name and here you are, laughing at me while I'm in the middle of a crisis."

You let out a soft laugh, resting your chin on your hand as you look him up and down. "I didn't even know you were the fraternity type," you tease. "I figured you were more into...I don't know, overachieving? Since you attended that seminar willingly."

Jungwon scoffs, a hand going to the back of his neck as he shifts his weight. "I'm really not but my friend spent a solid month dragging me into this and swearing it was the only way to survive freshman year, just to bail on me tonight. Now I'm the one standing in a sorority house with a deadline."

"That's tough," you say with a playful look in your eyes. "But hey, if you need a pair of panties that bad...you can have mine. Consider it a favor for a familiar face."

Jungwon's eyes widen, his breath going uneven for a second. A rush of excitement hits him, thinking of how this would probably be the easiest win of the night but then he pauses. He looks at you and the reality of the request settles in. Taking something so intimate from a girl he actually kind of likes, especially under the watchful eyes of fifty other guys, suddenly feels uncomfortable.

"I—uh...I should probably say no," he mutters, his ears turning a faint shade of pink. "I mean, thank you but it feels weird. Like I'm just taking advantage of the fact that we met once."

"Don't be so tense, Jungwon," you say, standing up from the table. You check the time on your phone to see that it's only eleven. You have an hour before he needs to be back in his house.

"Tell you what. We can head up to my room and hang out for a bit. We'll catch up and talk about how much orientation sucked ass and then you can take them when it's time to head back. It'll be less weird if we aren't standing in the middle of a circus, right?"

Jungwon looks around at the chaos, at the begging, the shouting, the sheer desperation of the other guys and then back at you.

The choice is pretty easy.

"Yeah," he says, a small smile finally breaking through his frustration. "That sounds a lot better than standing here."

Jungwon follows you up the stairs, the noise of the chaotic raid downstairs fading into a dull hum as you reach the quiet corridor of the freshman wing. When you push open your door and step inside, the room is dimly lit, smelling faintly of cinnamon and your expensive perfume.

The moment the door clicks shut behind, he's completely stunned that you turn and immediately press your lips to his. It's not even a tentative brush, you press your lips to his in a confident kiss that catches him entirely off guard. Jungwon's eyes widen in shock and his brain panics causing him to instinctively stumble backward. He isn't looking where he's going and so his head connects with the solid wood of the door with a dull echoing thud.

"Ow—!" he winces, reaching up to clutch the back of his head.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" You pull away instantly, your hands hovering near him, unsure whether to touch him or keep your distance. "Are you okay? I—I'm so embarrassed. I thought...I completely misread the signals, didn't I? I am so so so sorry, Jungwon."

He groans softly, rubbing the sore spot but he manages to give you a pained laugh. "It's okay, really. My head is just...a bit harder than I thought. You don't have to apologize."

You sink onto the edge of your bed, twirling your fingers into the loose thread of your skirt and looking everywhere but at him. The confidence you had downstairs has evaporated and now you feel extremely vulnerable.

"I'm just...this is really my first time away from home," you admit quietly. You tell him about your strict parents and the years of living under their thumb, where every move was monitored by even your overprotective older brother. "I guess I just thought college was supposed to be like the movies—all about hooking up and being bold. I thought that's what people did here. I didn't mean to make it weird."

Jungwon slowly lowers his hand from his head, his expression softening as he looks at you. The mission for the fraternity feels so silly now. He sees the girl from the seminar again—the one who was just trying to figure out where she fit in.

"Hey," he says gently, stepping away from the door to stand in front of you. "You don't have to put on an act for me. I'm just a guy who got ditched by his best friend and is currently failing a hazing ritual. I think we're both just trying to figure this out."

Jungwon watches the way you're tucked into yourself on the bed and all the frustration from the night, including the anger at Jake and the pressure of the frat completely drains away. He takes a step closer before sitting right next to you, his shadow falling across your lap, and reaches out to gently tilt your chin up so you have to look at him.

"You don't have to follow some movie script," he says with a voice that sounds way steadier than he feels. "And you didn't read the signals wrong. I just wasn't expecting you to be that brave."

He leans in, pausing just inches from your lips to give you every chance to pull away. "Slowly this time," he whispers, a playful smirk on his mouth.

You let out a breathless giggle that vanishes the moment his lips touch yours. This kiss is so sweet, soft enough to make your head spin and you don't want it to end. But as his hands find the back of your neck, pulling you closer, the sweetness quickly catches fire. He darts his tongue out and the kiss turns hot and a little rough.

He moves on had to your waist and you take that as your cue to immediately straddle his lap. Jungwon's breath hitches as he feels the weight of you, your heat radiating through his clothes. He's confident, sure but he was a high schooler only three months ago and he's never had a girl this gorgeous so eager and needy in his lap.

"W—Wait—we should...we should probably slow down," he mutters against your mouth, even though his hands are grabbing at your thighs and ass, his heart is even hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

"Please?" you whisper in a shaky plea as you lean down to trail kisses along his jawline. "You're so hot, Jungwon. Please just touch me."

The sound of his name on your lips, followed by a beg like that, snaps the last of his composure. He does what he thinks is ideal, sliding one hand up to cup your breast through the fabric of your baby tee. He's so careful, almost doting but the sensation makes you gasp and you don't let him stay that careful for long.

You reach down, grabbing his other hand and guiding it firmly beneath your skirt to the waistband of your panties. Jungwon's eyes widen in shock but there's a jolt of pure electricity surging through him as he feels dips his fingers past the waistband and feels how slick and wet you already are.

Damn, he thinks, his head falling back as a low groan escapes his throat. You're a horny little thing, aren't you?

He stops overthinking, if this is how you want to spend your first real night of freedom, he's more than willing to be the one to show you exactly what you've been missing. Jungwon finds your flow quickly, his fingers sliding against your damp pussy with a confidence that rivals his own racing heart. He lets out a surprised huff of air against your skin. "You're so wet," he murmurs. "I haven't even really started yet."

He shifts his focus to your neck, his lips and teeth grazing the sensitive skin there while his thumb finds your clit and he begins to rub in steady, firm up and down strokes that make your breath turn into shrieking whines.

The sound of your own voice in the quiet room makes you feel like such a bad girl. You can almost feel the weight of your parents' expectations, their certain disappointment if they could see you now—straddling a boy you barely know in a dimly lit sorority room. But the guilt only seems to highlight the pleasure, making every touch feel forbidden and electric.

"Poor thing," Jungwon whispers against your ear, his voice laced with a sudden and somewhat protective heat. "You've been wound so tight, haven't you? Just waiting for someone to let you loose."

You're already shaking, your thighs trembling against his hips as you involuntarily start to hump his hand, like you can't help yourself. The need is overwhelming, like a physical ache that demands to be satisfied. You're so eager and desperate that you end up overpowering him, your weight shifting until you push him back against the pillows and he lets out a choked groan as he hits the mattress but he doesn't stop his hands.

You're basically riding his fingers now, moving with frenzied jolts that make him see stars. He watches you from below, your hair messy and your eyes blown wide with lust and he can't help but imagine what it would feel like to have you riding his dick with that same horny intensity.

"You're incredible," he gasps, his fingers working faster as he tries to keep up with you, his thumb is still rubbing your clit while another finger is prodding at your hole cause he's unsure whether you're a virgin or not. "Mmm. Just like that—Fuck—You're so pretty."

All it really take his him pinching your nipple a little and you let out a scream muffled against the back of your hand, your body shaking as the sweet friction of his fingers finally sends you over the edge. "Jun—Oh shit! I thi...I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

You look so beautiful thanking him for making you cum that he can't help but smile, he can't help but think of the other things he can get you to thank him for as you collapse against chest, trembling and babbling incoherent sentence while the aftershocks of the orgasm wave through you.

He pulls out his damp fingers from your panties, ready to ask you to put your number in his phone but your gaze is locked on the rigid line straining against the denim of his jeans. You do not hesitate, reaching out to grasp him through the fabric, your fingers curling around the length of his hard cock.

"Wait—wait," Jungwon breathes, his voice cracking as he catches your wrist. He is a man of discipline, yes and despite his raw confidence, a streak of genuine protective instinct flares up. "We really…I don’t think we should go that far tonight. I...I don't want to seem like I'm just using you for a requirement."

But you aren't listening to his logic. You lean forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck, your tongue darting out to lick the pulse point that is hammering wildly. You move to his ear, nipping the lobe before whispering another plea that makes his knees go weak.

Jungwon squeezes his eyes shut, his head falling back against the bed. He is just a man, after all and the combination of your wet pussy, your perfume and the way you are practically begging for him is an impossible force to fight. His grip on your wrists loosens, his hands falling to his sides in a silent surrender.

"You're going to be trouble for me, aren’t you?" He asks in a groan but before he can even process the shift in his own resolve, your hands are at his waist. With a clumsy certainty, you pry his belt loose, followed immediately by the pop of his jean button.

You make quick work of the zipper and Jungwon lets out a jagged breath, even helping you by lifting his hips as well as you, so you can drag his jeans down as much as it can go in this position. He is officially past the point of no return and the fraternity feels like a lifetime away compared to the urgency of your touch.

Jungwon's large hands make their way to your hips, the heat of his palms searing through your skin. "Do you even know what you're doing right now?" he asks you.

When you shake your head and give him an honest "No." He suddenly shifts you with a powerful movement, manhandling you until you are positioned perfectly above him. You are sitting directly over the hard length of his cock but there is still a frustrating barrier, your now damp panties and the cotton of his briefs are the only things keeping skin from skin.

The sensation is agonizingly hot and he can feel the moisture from the orgasm he just gave you soaking through your underwear, rubbing against him with every tiny, involuntary shiver you make. He is already pushed to his limit and it doesn't help that you can't sit still.

He isn't surprised when you begin to move on your own, rolling your hips in a feverish attempt to dry hump him through the layers. He grunts and grips your waist tighter until his knuckles start turning white.

"Shit. You're going to make me lose it," he says while trying to match your erratic pace.

"I can't believe it feels this good," you whine, your voice breaking as you roll your hips against him. You lean down, letting your hair brush against his face as you whisper into his ear, "I just...I can't wait to finally have sex. I've waited so long."

Jungwon's heart hammers a disastrous rhythm, he has never felt this desired before and when he looks up at your face, a possessive thought fills his mind—he wants to be the one.

"You really want this, don't you?" he rasps, his hands sliding from your waist to your thighs then your asscheeks, squeezing firmly to guide your movements. "Move for me. Faster, just like that."

You don't need to be told twice, you’re already moving like a bunny in heat, your damp panties making your clit catch on the ridge of his cock head through his briefs. The sensation is overwhelming and when Jungwon feels the usual tightening in his lower stomach, he almost can’t believe it.

No way, he thinks, trying his best to hold back from how badly he wants to moan out and whine just like you’re doing. What the fuck? Am I really going to cum from just a little dry humping?

"Shit...fuck," he groans again, the curses tumbling from his lips as he loses the battle for composure. He reaches up, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you down into a messy kiss.

"I bet your pussy is so tight," he says against your lips, his hips bucking upward instinctively to meet your rhythm. "Don't stop. God, don't stop moving."

He is completely at your mercy, his fingers digging into your skin but the way you are humping him is stripping away every ounce of his self control is driving him mad. Every time you slide forward, the dampness of your underwear catches against him and sends another jolt of pleasure straight to his core.

"My pussy is tight, I can—I can barely get one finger inside." You whine and that does it, your words couples with the drag of your wet lace against his cock is the final straw. Jungwon's eyes fly shut and his spine arches off the mattress as he lets out whine after whine. He is cursing under his breath, his hands clutching your hips so hard his fingerprints will surely linger, as he cums right there in his underwear. In the dim light of your room, he looks so pretty and flushed—his hair messy and his chest panting cause he’s trying to find his breath again.

You watch him with wide, curious eyes, finding the sight of him so pretty in his undone state. "Is that what happens?" you ask softly, tilting your head.

Before he can even formulate a coherent sentence to give you, you reach over to your nightstand and pull out a box of baby wipes, offering them to him with a shy smile. He looks at the box, then back at you, a half delirious laugh escaping his throat. "You're really something, aren't you?" he rasps, taking a wipe to attempt a quick, awkward cleanup.

Despite the pleasure being over, he notices you haven't made a single move to get off him. You are still straddling his lap, your weight warm and grounding against his thighs. He stops mid wipe to look up at you with a gaze that has softened significantly. He doesn't say it out loud but as he feels your arms wrap loosely around his neck, he finds himself hoping that you are the clingy type.

He holds you for a short second, letting his heart hammer against your own. He pulls back just enough to look into your hazy eyes, his mouth opening to ask for a real date, when his eyes snag on the digital glow of your bedside clock.

11:55 PM.

"Shit!" he hisses, the adrenaline of the mission slamming back into him. "We have five minutes!"

The romantic bubble bursts, replaced by a messy, laughing scramble. You do not hesitate to slide your panties down your legs, they’re completely soaked and heavy from your cum but you shove them into his hand anyway and he doesn't even look at them before stuffing the damp fabric into his pocket as you both bolt out of the room.

The run across the row is a blur of cold night air and your hysterical laughter. You are sprinting in your shoes while Jungwon grips your hand like a lifeline. You burst through the heavy oak doors of the grand hall just as the clock begins its first chime of midnight.

Jungwon is bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for air but a victorious smile is etched on his face. He is the last pledge to arrive but he made it. He has the proof in his pocket along with the girl of his dreams by his side and he is so ready to look Jake in the eye and gloat in his face.

The requirement officer from earlier walks down from the stairs, his eyes scanning the room at the less than thirty pledges that managed to make it back with the mission complete but when his eyes land on pair of you. He looks at Jungwon, then his gaze shifts to you and his entire face goes from smug to thunderous in a split second.

"Jungwon," he says in a voice so angry Jungwon has to wonder where he fucked up. "Is that my fucking sister?"

Jungwon's smile disappears, his hand still intertwined with yours. He looks at the officer, then slowly turns his head to look at you, his eyes wide with a horrifying realization.

You offer a weak, not so apologetic wince. "Oops."

nene’s note ── had no real plans on posting this and that’s why there’s no banner, call it ‘enhablr fatigue’ the way i’m so tired of what this place has become. but to those sticking around and rocking with us, thank you and i hope you enjoy this short story 💋 as you know i love feedback.

taglist i ── @fancypeacepersona @usuallyunlikelyfox @starry-eyed-bimbo @strayy-kidz @mheretoreadff @bloomiize @xoenhalover @mamuljji @gabrielinhaa @ieatwon @rialikesbts @lunacrtk @dulcetnostalgia @lovel1z @kristynaaah @c1eod1n3 @kiikiisblog @pqrkjyx @tojiworshipper @loverseon @yazmike @ravenslocked @enhxlvr @mangoescrazy @hees-h0e @stayalittlelonger143 @hazevelyn @sour-chaos @skzenhalove @mochi-mika @simjakersss1009 @isagistar @baedreamverse @jvngw0nlvr @deobitifull @prettygirlthings-world @ravenslocked @ricecakeslove @lenolalalie

© nephynes 2025

So now, Jungwon is alone in a sea of legacy kids and meatheads, feeling the heaviness of the fraternity's history pressing down on him from the dark wood paneling of the walls.

At the front of the hall, the requirement officer stepped onto a raised platform. He was a senior with a cold smirk that suggested he enjoyed this part of the job a little too much, he definitely enjoyed the way the room went dead silent as he leaned into the microphone.

"Congratulations on making it this far, pledges," he began, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. "But before you get your pins, there is one final requirement. A test of charm, stealth and most importantly, this is a test of audacity."

"By midnight, every one of you must retrieve a pair of panties from a girl currently residing in a sorority house. And because some of you cum socks tried to raid a laundry hamper last year, there's a new rule—you must return with the girl in person. If she isn't here with you by the time the clock strikes twelve, do not bother coming back at all."

A collective groan rippled through the hall but Jungwon didn't move. While the other guys started panicking and checking their contact lists, a spark of memory ignited in his mind.

He didn't have many connections on campus yet but he remembered a girl he'd bumped into during a motivational seminar during orientation week. He'd thought you were cute, smart too but in the chaos of that first week, he'd forgotten to get your name or your number. He only knew two things—you were a freshman just like him and you were rushing a sorority on campus.

He checked his watch, it was already 10:50 PM. He had less than two hours to find a girl whose name he didn't know and convince you to participate in a ridiculous fraternity hazing ritual.

Jungwon couldn't stop the rush of pure disbelief he felt thinking of how ridiculous this was, he had expected something difficult, perhaps even something a little humiliating but this was a proper fucking nightmare. He didn't just want to finish this for himself anymore, he also wanted to get through it just so he could hold it over Jake's head for the rest of the semester.

The cool night air hit Jungwon's face as he shoved past the heavy oak doors, his mind already racing through the grid of the greek row. His anger toward Jake hadn't fully dissipated but it was being rapidly replaced by a singular focus.

He knew the top tier houses were clustered on the north side of the row. If you had succeeded in your rush and looking the way you did, he had no doubt yeah no doubt you had, you'd be in one of those three houses.

He reached the steps of the first house, the music from an indoor social thumping through the brick walls. He took a breath, smoothed down his shirt and prepared to start the search. He didn't just need those panties, he also really needed the chance to finally finish the conversation he'd started three weeks ago.

Jungwon didn't waste any time, he was swinging open random doors, bracing himself for screams or a face full of pepper spray but instead he was met with a bizarre sense of normalcy. The girls inside the house weren't even flinching, they were mostly lounging on beds or scrolling on their phones, looking at the sudden influx of frantic freshmen with a mixture of boredom and amusement. He figured there had to be some long standing or unspoken agreement between their houses, from a tradition passed down through years of greek life that made this ridiculous raid an expected annual event.

The house was quickly becoming a circus, with guys everywhere, some attempting smooth pick up lines that fell flat, while others were literally on their knees, begging for a scrap of fabric like their lives depended on it.

Jungwon shook his head, trying not to laugh as he watched a fellow pledge nearly burst into tears over a refusal. He turned to scan the main dining area and that's when the world seemed to sharpen.

Because there you were, sitting at the long oak dining table, tucked into a conversation with another girl. You were leaning back, laughing at the absolute absurdity of the boys swarming the room. The moment your eyes drifted toward him, the laughter stayed on your lips but your expression shifted into a look of genuine recognition.

"Oh," you say, your voice cutting through the chaos of the room as you tilted your head. "Orientation boy?"

Jungwon't heart did a strange skip, he'd spent a month kicking himself for not getting your name or number after that seminar and now, standing in the middle of a panty raid, he felt like he'd finally caught the break he'd been looking for.

"I'm surprised you remember, it's Jungwon, by the way," he said, closing the distance between you, his confidence returning tenfold. He leaned against the table, ignoring the other pledges scrambling around.

"Y/n."

"I've spent the last three weeks trying to remember your name and here you are, laughing at me while I'm in the middle of a crisis."

You let out a soft laugh, resting your chin on your hand as you look him up and down. "I didn't even know you were the fraternity type," you tease. "I figured you were more into...I don't know, overachieving? Since you attended that seminar willingly."

Jungwon scoffs, a hand going to the back of his neck as he shifts his weight. "I'm really not but my friend spent a solid month dragging me into this and swearing it was the only way to survive freshman year, just to bail on me tonight. Now I'm the one standing in a sorority house with a deadline."

"That's tough," you say with a playful look in your eyes. "But hey, if you need a pair of panties that bad...you can have mine. Consider it a favor for a familiar face."

Jungwon's eyes widen, his breath going uneven for a second. A rush of excitement hits him, thinking of how this would probably be the easiest win of the night but then he pauses. He looks at you and the reality of the request settles in. Taking something so intimate from a girl he actually kind of likes, especially under the watchful eyes of fifty other guys, suddenly feels uncomfortable.

"I—uh...I should probably say no," he mutters, his ears turning a faint shade of pink. "I mean, thank you but it feels weird. Like I'm just taking advantage of the fact that we met once."

"Don't be so tense, Jungwon," you say, standing up from the table. You check the time on your phone to see that it's only eleven. You have an hour before he needs to be back in his house.

"Tell you what. We can head up to my room and hang out for a bit. We'll catch up and talk about how much orientation sucked ass and then you can take them when it's time to head back. It'll be less weird if we aren't standing in the middle of a circus, right?"

Jungwon looks around at the chaos, at the begging, the shouting, the sheer desperation of the other guys and then back at you.

The choice is pretty easy.

"Yeah," he says, a small smile finally breaking through his frustration. "That sounds a lot better than standing here."

Jungwon follows you up the stairs, the noise of the chaotic raid downstairs fading into a dull hum as you reach the quiet corridor of the freshman wing. When you push open your door and step inside, the room is dimly lit, smelling faintly of cinnamon and your expensive perfume.

The moment the door clicks shut behind, he's completely stunned that you turn and immediately press your lips to his. It's not even a tentative brush, you press your lips to his in a confident kiss that catches him entirely off guard. Jungwon's eyes widen in shock and his brain panics causing him to instinctively stumble backward. He isn't looking where he's going and so his head connects with the solid wood of the door with a dull echoing thud.

"Ow—!" he winces, reaching up to clutch the back of his head.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" You pull away instantly, your hands hovering near him, unsure whether to touch him or keep your distance. "Are you okay? I—I'm so embarrassed. I thought...I completely misread the signals, didn't I? I am so so so sorry, Jungwon."

He groans softly, rubbing the sore spot but he manages to give you a pained laugh. "It's okay, really. My head is just...a bit harder than I thought. You don't have to apologize."

You sink onto the edge of your bed, twirling your fingers into the loose thread of your skirt and looking everywhere but at him. The confidence you had downstairs has evaporated and now you feel extremely vulnerable.

"I'm just...this is really my first time away from home," you admit quietly. You tell him about your strict parents and the years of living under their thumb, where every move was monitored by even your overprotective older brother. "I guess I just thought college was supposed to be like the movies—all about hooking up and being bold. I thought that's what people did here. I didn't mean to make it weird."

Jungwon slowly lowers his hand from his head, his expression softening as he looks at you. The mission for the fraternity feels so silly now. He sees the girl from the seminar again—the one who was just trying to figure out where she fit in.

"Hey," he says gently, stepping away from the door to stand in front of you. "You don't have to put on an act for me. I'm just a guy who got ditched by his best friend and is currently failing a hazing ritual. I think we're both just trying to figure this out."

Jungwon watches the way you're tucked into yourself on the bed and all the frustration from the night, including the anger at Jake and the pressure of the frat completely drains away. He takes a step closer before sitting right next to you, his shadow falling across your lap, and reaches out to gently tilt your chin up so you have to look at him.

"You don't have to follow some movie script," he says with a voice that sounds way steadier than he feels. "And you didn't read the signals wrong. I just wasn't expecting you to be that brave."

He leans in, pausing just inches from your lips to give you every chance to pull away. "Slowly this time," he whispers, a playful smirk on his mouth.

You let out a breathless giggle that vanishes the moment his lips touch yours. This kiss is so sweet, soft enough to make your head spin and you don't want it to end. But as his hands find the back of your neck, pulling you closer, the sweetness quickly catches fire. He darts his tongue out and the kiss turns hot and a little rough.

He moves on had to your waist and you take that as your cue to immediately straddle his lap. Jungwon's breath hitches as he feels the weight of you, your heat radiating through his clothes. He's confident, sure but he was a high schooler only three months ago and he's never had a girl this gorgeous so eager and needy in his lap.

"W—Wait—we should...we should probably slow down," he mutters against your mouth, even though his hands are grabbing at your thighs and ass, his heart is even hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

"Please?" you whisper in a shaky plea as you lean down to trail kisses along his jawline. "You're so hot, Jungwon. Please just touch me."

The sound of his name on your lips, followed by a beg like that, snaps the last of his composure. He does what he thinks is ideal, sliding one hand up to cup your breast through the fabric of your baby tee. He's so careful, almost doting but the sensation makes you gasp and you don't let him stay that careful for long.

You reach down, grabbing his other hand and guiding it firmly beneath your skirt to the waistband of your panties. Jungwon's eyes widen in shock but there's a jolt of pure electricity surging through him as he feels dips his fingers past the waistband and feels how slick and wet you already are.

Damn, he thinks, his head falling back as a low groan escapes his throat. You're a horny little thing, aren't you?

He stops overthinking, if this is how you want to spend your first real night of freedom, he's more than willing to be the one to show you exactly what you've been missing. Jungwon finds your flow quickly, his fingers sliding against your damp pussy with a confidence that rivals his own racing heart. He lets out a surprised huff of air against your skin. "You're so wet," he murmurs. "I haven't even really started yet."

He shifts his focus to your neck, his lips and teeth grazing the sensitive skin there while his thumb finds your clit and he begins to rub in steady, firm up and down strokes that make your breath turn into shrieking whines.

The sound of your own voice in the quiet room makes you feel like such a bad girl. You can almost feel the weight of your parents' expectations, their certain disappointment if they could see you now—straddling a boy you barely know in a dimly lit sorority room. But the guilt only seems to highlight the pleasure, making every touch feel forbidden and electric.

"Poor thing," Jungwon whispers against your ear, his voice laced with a sudden and somewhat protective heat. "You've been wound so tight, haven't you? Just waiting for someone to let you loose."

You're already shaking, your thighs trembling against his hips as you involuntarily start to hump his hand, like you can't help yourself. The need is overwhelming, like a physical ache that demands to be satisfied. You're so eager and desperate that you end up overpowering him, your weight shifting until you push him back against the pillows and he lets out a choked groan as he hits the mattress but he doesn't stop his hands.

You're basically riding his fingers now, moving with frenzied jolts that make him see stars. He watches you from below, your hair messy and your eyes blown wide with lust and he can't help but imagine what it would feel like to have you riding his dick with that same horny intensity.

"You're incredible," he gasps, his fingers working faster as he tries to keep up with you, his thumb is still rubbing your clit while another finger is prodding at your hole cause he's unsure whether you're a virgin or not. "Mmm. Just like that—Fuck—You're so pretty."

All it really take his him pinching your nipple a little and you let out a scream muffled against the back of your hand, your body shaking as the sweet friction of his fingers finally sends you over the edge. "Jun—Oh shit! I thi...I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

"Thank you! Thank you so much!"

You look so beautiful thanking him for making you cum that he can't help but smile, he can't help but think of the other things he can get you to thank him for as you collapse against chest, trembling and babbling incoherent sentence while the aftershocks of the orgasm wave through you.

He pulls out his damp fingers from your panties, ready to ask you to put your number in his phone but your gaze is locked on the rigid line straining against the denim of his jeans. You do not hesitate, reaching out to grasp him through the fabric, your fingers curling around the length of his hard cock.

"Wait—wait," Jungwon breathes, his voice cracking as he catches your wrist. He is a man of discipline, yes and despite his raw confidence, a streak of genuine protective instinct flares up. "We really…I don’t think we should go that far tonight. I...I don't want to seem like I'm just using you for a requirement."

But you aren't listening to his logic. You lean forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck, your tongue darting out to lick the pulse point that is hammering wildly. You move to his ear, nipping the lobe before whispering another plea that makes his knees go weak.

Jungwon squeezes his eyes shut, his head falling back against the bed. He is just a man, after all and the combination of your wet pussy, your perfume and the way you are practically begging for him is an impossible force to fight. His grip on your wrists loosens, his hands falling to his sides in a silent surrender.

"You're going to be trouble for me, aren’t you?" He asks in a groan but before he can even process the shift in his own resolve, your hands are at his waist. With a clumsy certainty, you pry his belt loose, followed immediately by the pop of his jean button.

You make quick work of the zipper and Jungwon lets out a jagged breath, even helping you by lifting his hips as well as you, so you can drag his jeans down as much as it can go in this position. He is officially past the point of no return and the fraternity feels like a lifetime away compared to the urgency of your touch.

Jungwon's large hands make their way to your hips, the heat of his palms searing through your skin. "Do you even know what you're doing right now?" he asks you.

When you shake your head and give him an honest "No." He suddenly shifts you with a powerful movement, manhandling you until you are positioned perfectly above him. You are sitting directly over the hard length of his cock but there is still a frustrating barrier, your now damp panties and the cotton of his briefs are the only things keeping skin from skin.

The sensation is agonizingly hot and he can feel the moisture from the orgasm he just gave you soaking through your underwear, rubbing against him with every tiny, involuntary shiver you make. He is already pushed to his limit and it doesn't help that you can't sit still.

He isn't surprised when you begin to move on your own, rolling your hips in a feverish attempt to dry hump him through the layers. He grunts and grips your waist tighter until his knuckles start turning white.

"Shit. You're going to make me lose it," he says while trying to match your erratic pace.

"I can't believe it feels this good," you whine, your voice breaking as you roll your hips against him. You lean down, letting your hair brush against his face as you whisper into his ear, "I just...I can't wait to finally have sex. I've waited so long."

Jungwon's heart hammers a disastrous rhythm, he has never felt this desired before and when he looks up at your face, a possessive thought fills his mind—he wants to be the one.

"You really want this, don't you?" he rasps, his hands sliding from your waist to your thighs then your asscheeks, squeezing firmly to guide your movements. "Move for me. Faster, just like that."

You don't need to be told twice, you’re already moving like a bunny in heat, your damp panties making your clit catch on the ridge of his cock head through his briefs. The sensation is overwhelming and when Jungwon feels the usual tightening in his lower stomach, he almost can’t believe it.

No way, he thinks, trying his best to hold back from how badly he wants to moan out and whine just like you’re doing. What the fuck? Am I really going to cum from just a little dry humping?

"Shit...fuck," he groans again, the curses tumbling from his lips as he loses the battle for composure. He reaches up, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you down into a messy kiss.

"I bet your pussy is so tight," he says against your lips, his hips bucking upward instinctively to meet your rhythm. "Don't stop. God, don't stop moving."

He is completely at your mercy, his fingers digging into your skin but the way you are humping him is stripping away every ounce of his self control is driving him mad. Every time you slide forward, the dampness of your underwear catches against him and sends another jolt of pleasure straight to his core.

"My pussy is tight, I can—I can barely get one finger inside." You whine and that does it, your words couples with the drag of your wet lace against his cock is the final straw. Jungwon's eyes fly shut and his spine arches off the mattress as he lets out whine after whine. He is cursing under his breath, his hands clutching your hips so hard his fingerprints will surely linger, as he cums right there in his underwear. In the dim light of your room, he looks so pretty and flushed—his hair messy and his chest panting cause he’s trying to find his breath again.

You watch him with wide, curious eyes, finding the sight of him so pretty in his undone state. "Is that what happens?" you ask softly, tilting your head.

Before he can even formulate a coherent sentence to give you, you reach over to your nightstand and pull out a box of baby wipes, offering them to him with a shy smile. He looks at the box, then back at you, a half delirious laugh escaping his throat. "You're really something, aren't you?" he rasps, taking a wipe to attempt a quick, awkward cleanup.

Despite the pleasure being over, he notices you haven't made a single move to get off him. You are still straddling his lap, your weight warm and grounding against his thighs. He stops mid wipe to look up at you with a gaze that has softened significantly. He doesn't say it out loud but as he feels your arms wrap loosely around his neck, he finds himself hoping that you are the clingy type.

He holds you for a short second, letting his heart hammer against your own. He pulls back just enough to look into your hazy eyes, his mouth opening to ask for a real date, when his eyes snag on the digital glow of your bedside clock.

11:55 PM.

"Shit!" he hisses, the adrenaline of the mission slamming back into him. "We have five minutes!"

The romantic bubble bursts, replaced by a messy, laughing scramble. You do not hesitate to slide your panties down your legs, they’re completely soaked and heavy from your cum but you shove them into his hand anyway and he doesn't even look at them before stuffing the damp fabric into his pocket as you both bolt out of the room.

The run across the row is a blur of cold night air and your hysterical laughter. You are sprinting in your shoes while Jungwon grips your hand like a lifeline. You burst through the heavy oak doors of the grand hall just as the clock begins its first chime of midnight.

Jungwon is bent over, hands on his knees, gasping for air but a victorious smile is etched on his face. He is the last pledge to arrive but he made it. He has the proof in his pocket along with the girl of his dreams by his side and he is so ready to look Jake in the eye and gloat in his face.

The requirement officer from earlier walks down from the stairs, his eyes scanning the room at the less than thirty pledges that managed to make it back with the mission complete but when his eyes land on pair of you. He looks at Jungwon, then his gaze shifts to you and his entire face goes from smug to thunderous in a split second.

"Jungwon," he says in a voice so angry Jungwon has to wonder where he fucked up. "Is that my fucking sister?"

Jungwon's smile disappears, his hand still intertwined with yours. He looks at the officer, then slowly turns his head to look at you, his eyes wide with a horrifying realization.

You offer a weak, not so apologetic wince. "Oops."

nene’s note ── had no real plans on posting this and that’s why there’s no banner, call it ‘enhablr fatigue’ the way i’m so tired of what this place has become. but to those sticking around and rocking with us, thank you and i hope you enjoy this short story 💋 as you know i love feedback.

taglist i ── @fancypeacepersona @usuallyunlikelyfox @starry-eyed-bimbo @strayy-kidz @mheretoreadff @bloomiize @xoenhalover @mamuljji @gabrielinhaa @ieatwon @rialikesbts @lunacrtk @dulcetnostalgia @lovel1z @kristynaaah @c1eod1n3 @kiikiisblog @pqrkjyx @tojiworshipper @loverseon @yazmike @ravenslocked @enhxlvr @mangoescrazy @hees-h0e @stayalittlelonger143 @hazevelyn @sour-chaos @skzenhalove @mochi-mika @simjakersss1009 @isagistar @baedreamverse @jvngw0nlvr @deobitifull @prettygirlthings-world @ravenslocked @ricecakeslove @lenolalalie

© nephynes 2025

⊹

There were seven of them.

Seven loud, annoying ass, inseparable boys who took up too much space at every party, every hallway, and every parking lot. They were always together, skateboards under their arms, half-finished coca-cola cans in their hands, laughter echoing too loudly through college apartments that definitely couldn’t fit all of them.

You really weren’t supposed to be part of them. Even thought they we’re weird at first.

The first time they saw you, you were standing alone at some shady off-campus house party.

You were leaning against the kitchen counter in low rise jeans and a baby tee, flipping your pink bedazzled Motorola shut and open again because you didn’t know what else to do with your hands.

It was Sunghoon who noticed first. “Why is she by herself? She looks nice.” And then all seven of them ended up standing in front of you like a mildly intimidating boyband.

You don’t remember how, but that night you were adopted into their friendgroup.

You’d been with them ever since.

Especially Riki.

—

You and Riki were never stable.

You were either disgustingly in love or dramatically broken up. There was no in-between.

You’d ‘break up’ over anything:

Because he didn’t call you back fast enough. You helped another guy with his homework. He didn’t let you borrow his clothes. You told him smoking was unattractive.

And once because spilled an entire cup of Sprite on your Juicy Couture bag, which you spent your entire salary on.

You cried like a baby. He’d rolled his eyes and said, “It’s just a bag. Get a new one.”

You didn’t speak to him for a week.

The friend group suffered… Riki got quieter. You got meaner. The air felt heavy every time you were in the same room.

Until Jungwon snapped.

“I can’t do this,” he’d said, rubbing his temples. “You two are exhausting. Apologize. Now.”

You tried to act careless but you both folded in under five minutes and ended up in your bedroom.

—

You hated being called popular, but you weren’t invisible.

People knew you.

You had that early-2000s glow. Glossy lips, hoop earrings, low-rise everything. Professors remembered your name. Girls whispered about you. Boys stared a little too long.

Riki? He had baggy jeans sagged so low you could always see which brand of underwear he was wearing, Calvin Klein most days, sometimes something knockoff that you’d tease him about constantly.

“Pull them up,” you’d hiss in the middle of the mall, grabbing the waistband of his jeans and yanking it higher. “You’re embarrassing me.”

He’d just grin, completely unbothered.

“Why? You don’t like my boxers?”

“I don’t like that everyone else can see them.”

He’d lean closer, smoke still lingering faintly on his breath. “I don’t care.”

And then he’d glance down at your hips.

Low rise jeans. A tiny strip of pink lace peeking out when you moved. Belly piercing glinting under the mall lights.

“Oh,” he’d mock, tugging lightly at the strip of your thong on your hip, making it snap back. “And that’s modest?”

You’d swat his hand away. “That’s fashion.”

“Mine is too.”

“You look homeless.”

“You look like a hooker.”

“I do not. You asshole.”

You’d both be smiling by the end of it.

—

It’s one of those perfect late mid-August afternoons.

The sun is low and orange. Everything smells like hot pavement, sunscreen, and cigarettes. The entire city feels outside, kids with scraped knees, girls in denim skirts, boys shirtless with skateboards tucked under their arms.

The skatepark is loud.

Wheels scraping. Laughter echoing. Music playing from someone’s brand new portable speaker.

The whole friend group is there and Riki insisted you’d come too.

His white tank top clinging slightly to his back from sweat. Wired headphones dangling out of the pocket from his jeans. A cigarette tucked behind his ear, which you hate.

Heeseung is beside him, attempting something reckless off a skating ramp.

They take turns.

They hype each other up.

They shove each other when one of them almost eats concrete.

You’re sitting on top of the half-pipe, legs dangling over the edge, flip-flops hanging loosely off your toes. The smallest top imaginable clings to your torso more lace than fabric, blue jeans sit dangerously on your hips, held in place by a big bedazzled belt.

Riki had absolutely hated the top.

“That’s not a shirt,” he said earlier.

“It is.”

“It looks like a bra.”

“It’s hot outside.”

“It’s hot for me too.”

“Then take your shirt off.”

He gave you a glare, you walked ahead anyway.

Now you’re bored.

Bored and slightly irritate because you’ve already watched him light up two cigarettes.

Two.

And you hate when he smokes. Hate the smell. Hate the way it makes his voice raspier. Hate how casual he is about it.

And he knows that, but he does it anyway. Which makes it worse.

He skates toward you suddenly, rolling to a stop between your knees. One hand presses to the ramp beside your thigh, the other still holding his board.

“You look grumpy,” he says, squinting up at you against the sun.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

He leans forward and kisses your forehead anyway.

Then he pushes off again before you can respond.

You sigh.

You’re melting. You’re bored. And you’re watching your boyfriend risk concussions for fun.

Amazing.

Then Heeseung has an even more amazing idea.

“Teach her something,” he says, nodding toward you.

Riki looks up immediately.

You narrow your eyes.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

He’s already skating toward you again.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand. “It’s easy.”

“It’s not easy.”

“It is.”

“I’m wearing slippers.”

“Then take them off.”

You gasp like he’s insane.

He grins.

“Baby, I’ll hold you.”

Everyone’s watching now.

Jay whistles from somewhere near the fence. Sunghoon pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. Sunoo is already smiling like something crazy embarrassing is about to happen.

“If I fall and ruin my outfit,” you warn, pointing a manicured finger at him, “I’ll kill you.”

He laughs. “You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

You step onto the skateboard and it wobbles instantly.

You grab his hands.

“Why is it moving?”

“Because it has wheels.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

He positions himself in front of you, holding both your hands firmly.

“Okay,” he says, focused now. “Just bend your knees a little. Then pop the tail and slide your foot up.”

“Pop what?”

“The back.”

“I don’t know what that means Riki.”

He laughs softly.

“It’s fine. I’ve got you.”

You glare. “You better.”

He counts you down.

“One. Two—”

You jump.

The board flips sideways instead of up.

Your foot lands wrong.

His grip slips and suddenly you’re falling. You hit the concrete with a very embarrassing thud.

There’s a split second of silence, then there’s Laughter.

Sunoo’s laugh is the worst. High and dramatic and absolutely unnecessary.

You sit up slowly, hair in your face, pride completely shattered.

Riki is crouching immediately. “Are you okay?”

You stare at him.

“Did you catch me?”

“I tried—”

“You did not.”

He bites back a smile.

You gasp.

“Don’t you dare laugh.”

He fails. Just a little chuckle, but that’s it for you.

You stand up, brushing off your jeans dramatically.

“I’m done.”

“Baby—”

“No.”

You grab your slippers and stomp back toward the half-pipe.

Sunoo is still giggling when you sit down beside him.

“I’d like to see you try next time,” you snap.

Sunoo chuckles. “I would never fall like that.”

“You absolutely would.”

“I have natural balance.”

“You have natural dramatics.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You wanna bet?”

You both dissolve into a stupid little argument about who would survive longer on a skateboard.

It almost distracts you from Riki.

Almost.

Until you glance over and see some random guy offering Riki a joint.

And Riki… takes it?

Your stomach drops.

He laughs at something the stranger says. Throws his head back slightly. That boxy grin that made you like him in the first place.

Your jaw tightens.

Sunoo is still talking beside you.

“…and then I’d definitely land it because— helloo? Are you even listening?”

You aren’t. Your eyes are locked on Riki.

Then a girl loses control of her board and swerves straight into him.

She stumbles forward and Riki catches her.

One hand at her waist on instinct.

You feel it before you even think, that little sting in your chest.

He lets her go immediately.

“You good?” he asks casually.

She laughs. “Yeah, thanks.”

She lingers half a second too long.

That’s it. That’s your last straw. You’re already on your feet. Sunoo reaches for your wrist. “Wait—”

Too late. You walk fast, hips swaying, chin lifted, eyes low and dangerous.

Riki doesn’t even notice until you’re right in front of him.

You grab his arm and tug him away from the small group of strangers.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He blinks. “What?”

“I said what do you think you’re doing.” you repeat, quieter but sharper.

He genuinely looks confused. “Nothing?”

You look at the joint still between his fingers.

Without breaking eye contact, you reach up, snatch it from him, drop it to the ground and grind it into the concrete with your heel.

“Are you serious right now?” he mutters.

“Oh, I’m serious.” you snap.

He runs a hand through his hair. “What is your problem?”

“My problem?” Your voice rises. “You’ve smoked, like, five cigarettes today. And now this? Oh and you’re just touching girls?”

His head jerks back. “Touching girls?”

“You literally had your hands all over her waist.”

“She ran into me.”

“And you had to grab her like that?”

“She was falling.”

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

“Keep it down,” he says under his breath. “Not everyone needs to know you’re mad at me again.”

That does it.

“Oh, I’m embarrassing you?!” you fire back. “You weren’t embarrassed five seconds ago.”

He steps closer, lowering his voice. “You’re making a scene.”

“You’re smoking in front of me after I told you I hate it.”

He exhales hard. “It’s my choice.”

“Oh my God.”

“It’s called free will,” he adds, clearly irritated now.

You stare at him.

“Right,” you say flatly. “So you just do whatever you want.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You were all up on her.”

“She bumped into me.”

“You didn’t have to hold her like that.”

He scoffs. “Like what?”

“Like—” You stop yourself before you say something dramatic.

He shakes his head. “You’re overreacting.”

You feel your chest tighten.

“Am I?” you ask quietly.

“Yes.”

Silence hangs between you. Then he makes the mistake.

He gestures vaguely at you.

“And don’t act like you’re not out here in that top all day.”

Your eyes widen.

“What about my top?”

“It’s too revealing.”

You laugh once. Sharp. Disbelieving.

“So now this is my fault?”

“I’m just saying—”

“You’re just saying what?” you cut him off. “That I deserve it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But you thought it.”

He looks frustrated now. “You can’t tell me what I thought.”

“You can’t tell me I’m overreacting.”

“You are tho.”

Your face goes cold.

“Okay.”

You step back.

“Okay,” you repeat.

He frowns slightly. “Where are you going?”

“Home.”

He grabs your wrist once.

“Don’t leave.”

“Whatever.” You say and you turn and walk away.

You expect footsteps. You expect him to call your name. You expect him to follow you like he always does.

You walk past the fence, the group of boys, past Sunoo’s wide eyes. And still nothing.

You finally glance back and your stomach drops.

He’s back on his board like nothing happened.

Like he isn’t supposed to chase you.

And that hurts more than the cigarette, more than the girl, more than the argument. Because in your head, he’s supposed to follow you and beg you to stay. But instead he just skates.’

—

By nine o’clock it’s almost completely dark, the last bit of orange fading out of the sky. Your room is lit by the glow of your TV, candles and the small lamp on your nightstand. You’re curled up in bed in soft pajamas, a plate of brownies balanced on your stomach while Clueless plays for what might be the hundredth time.

Your flip phone has been buzzing the last half hour.

Four missed calls.

Ten texts.

You’ve read none of them, you refuse to.

Then you hear A small tick against your window.

You pause mid-chew.

Another one.

And then a third.

You sit up slowly, pushing the plate aside and sliding out of bed. The floor is cool under your feet as you walk toward the window and pull the blinds apart.

Riki is standing in the street below, hands filled with tiny rocks to throw, looking up at your room like he’s been waiting for you to appear. When he sees your face, he waves casually, like this is completely normal behavior.

You stare at him for two seconds.

Then you shut the blinds and walk straight back to your bed.

Your phone buzzes again immediately.

You don’t check it.

A few seconds pass.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

You exhale sharply and shuffle back to the window, throwing the blinds open this time and sliding the window up.

“What?” you hiss down at him.

“You need to let me in,” he says like it’s obvious.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“But I want to talk to you.”

“Too bad.”

He steps closer to the house, lowering his voice even though no one is outside. “Please, baby. I wanna make it up to you.”

You cross your arms against the windowsill. “Make what up? You didn’t do anything, remember?”

“Come on,” he tries again. “Are you really gonna let me stand out here looking like a fool?”

“Yes,” you say immediately.

He stares up at you, half offended, half impressed.

You hold his gaze for another second, then slide the window shut and drop the blinds again before he can argue. You get back into bed, pull the covers up, grab your brownie plate, and press play like nothing happened.

For a few minutes, it’s quiet.

Then you hear something strange. Not rocks this time, but a scraping sound. A shuffle. Something brushing against the side of the house.

You freeze.

The sound gets closer.

Your heart jumps as you sit up again just in time to see two hands grab onto your windowsill from the outside.

And then Riki’s stupid face appears.

You let out a sharp gasp and scramble out of bed as he hoists himself up, creased sneakers braced against the brick. He looks mildly proud of himself, slightly out of breath, hair falling into his eyes.

You slide the window open with a dramatic sigh.

“Seriously, Riki?”

He doesn’t answer. He just swings one leg over the sill and climbs into your room like he’s done it a hundred times before, landing lightly on your floor.

“You’re insane,” you whisper-yell, shoving the window shut behind him. “My dad is literally going to kill the both of us if he finds out you climbed through my window.”

“He won’t,” Riki says easily.

“And you smell like smoke,” you add, wrinkling your nose. “If he comes in here—”

“He won’t,” he repeats, completely unbothered.

You stand there with your arms crossed, trying to stay angry while he casually looks around your room like he’s on a tour.

He glances at you slowly, eyes dragging from your messy hair to your pajama shorts. A lazy grin spreads across his face.

“Those make your ass look good.”

Your mouth drops open. “That’s what you have to say right now?”

“I’m just being honest.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable.”

He walks past you toward your bed, picking up one of your pillows and tossing it aside before noticing the plate of brownies. Without asking, he takes one and bites into it.

“You made these yourself?” he asks through a mouthful.

“Yes.”

“They’re good.”

“They’re mine.”

He shrugs and flops down onto your bed like he belongs there, one arm behind his head, chewing lazily while Clueless continues playing in the background.

Your eye twitches.

“I’m still mad at you, Riki” you remind him.

“I know,” he says. “That’s why I’m here.”

You stay standing by the window like you’re guarding it, arms crossed tightly over your chest. Riki, meanwhile, looks entirely too comfortable sprawled across your bed, one hand behind his head, the other reaching lazily for another brownie.

He watches you for a moment, amused.

“Are you gonna stand there all night?” he asks.

“Yes.”

He snorts softly. “Come sit down. You’re making me nervous.”

“You weren’t nervous climbing up my house like a creep.”

He pats the mattress beside him anyway. “Baby.”

You hesitate, but you do it. Of course you do. You walk over and sit cross-legged on your bed, leaving a noticeable gap between you. You grab a pink heart-shaped pillow and hold it against your chest like armor, arms wrapped around it as a clear barrier.

Riki doesn’t look intimidated.

He slowly looks you up and down instead, gaze dragging over your shorts, your bare legs, your messy hair. He takes another bite of brownie, chews thoughtfully, then winks at you.

“Can I get a kiss?”

Your jaw drops.

“You’re unbelievable.”

You lean forward and snatch the plate of brownies out of his hands before he can grab another one. “Start talking,” you demand. “Or I swear I’m throwing you back out that window.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re not strong enough for that.”

“I’ll get my dad to do it.”

He actually laughs at that, like the idea is ridiculous.

You glare harder.

He sighs dramatically and sits up, closing the space between you. The mattress dips as he moves closer.

He reaches out, resting his hand on your thigh, thumb brushing lightly against your skin. The touch is warm and familiar, annoyingly gentle.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You narrow your eyes. “For what?”

He pauses half a second too long.

“For… making you mad.”

That’s it.

That’s the apology.

He doesn’t even fully know what he’s apologizing for, the smoking, the girl, the comment about your top, he just knows you’re upset and that saying sorry usually fixes it.

You try to hold your glare, but your grip on the pillow loosens.

This is how it always goes. One of you gets mad. The other gives a weak apology. And somehow it’s enough.

He watches your expression soften, just slightly, and that tiny shift is all he needs.

“Come here,” he says quietly, patting his lap.

You roll your eyes like you’re still annoyed, but you put the pillow aside and shift forward, settling onto his lap anyway. His hands come to your waist automatically.

He leans in and kisses you.

It starts slow, almost careful, like he’s testing if you’ll pull away. You kiss him back, fingers curling lightly into his black hair. For a few seconds, everything feels lke the argument never happened.

Then you wrinkle your nose and pull back slightly.

“Take your jacket off.”

He blinks. “What?”

“It smells like smoke.”

He smirks immediately. “If you wanted to undress me you could just say that.”

You don’t even entertain it. You grab his shirt and kiss him again just to shut him up.

He laughs against your mouth, hands tightening at your waist, and for now, at least, the fight is over.

Until he chuckles, he pulls back just slightly, still close enough that his lips brush yours when he talks.

“You know,” he mumbles, half smiling, “Sunoo told me to apologize.”

You don’t really listen, just give him another peck on his lips. “Hm?”

He shrugs, leaning back in to kiss you again like it doesn’t matter. “He said I should just say sorry and you’d stop being mad.”

Your lips press together instead of moving with his.

“And?” you ask slowly.

“And it worked,” he says lightly. “I don’t even know what I did wrong.”

You freeze.

He tries to kiss you again, but you pull your head back this time.

“Are you kidding me right now?,” you say.

He frowns, confused at the sudden shift. “What?”

“You don’t know what you did wrong?”

He laughs a little, like this is harmless. “You were just in a mood.”

You slap his arm.

Not hard. But sharp enough.

“Ow— what was that for?”

You’re already climbing off his lap. “I actually can’t stand you.”

“What?” he repeats, genuinely lost.

“You didn’t apologize because you meant it,” you snap. “You just didn’t want me to be mad.”

“That’s the same thing y/n.”

“It’s not the same thing!”

He sits there, staring at you like you’ve switched languages mid-conversation.

You grab his arm and yank him off the bed. “Come here.”

“Why are you dragging me?”

“Because you’re leaving.”

He stumbles after you as you pull him toward the window again. “I just said sorry!”

“No, you didn’t!” you fire back, pushing the window open. “You said sorry because Sunoo told you to and because you wanted me to shut up.”

“That’s not—”

“That is exactly what it was.”

He steps closer, trying to catch your wrist, trying to pull you back in like he did before. “You’re overthinking it.”

You shove his chest lightly. “Go.”

“Can you calm down for two seconds?”

“No.”

He leans in again like kissing you will solve it, like it always does. You put your hand flat against his chest and push him back.

“Get out.”

“Baby—”

“Go!”

He exhales sharply, clearly frustrated now. “You’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”

“And you’re not making it a deal at all!” you shoot back. “Come back when you can take accountability!”

You don’t care how loud you are. You don’t care if a porch light flicks on somewhere down the street. You’re too irritated to think about neighbors.

He glares at you for a second longer before finally swinging one leg over the sill again.

“This is so stupid,” he mutters as he climbs out.

“You’re stupid!” you yell back.

“You love me though.”

“Bye Riki!”

He drops down to the ground below with a dull thud and looks back up at you. “Throw my jacket!”

You grab it off your floor and hesitate for a second.

“It smells like smoke! Wash it out!” you shout.

“Just throw it y/n, Jeez!”

You toss it out the window a little harder than necessary. It hits him in the face before falling to his arms.

“And pull your up your goddamn pants, you loser!” you yell one last time before slamming the window shut.

He stands there for a second in the dim streetlight, running a hand through his hair and muttering a curse under his breath. “Fucking hell.”

He pulls up his pants anyway, then he turns and starts walking.

Riki walks home with his jacket slung over his shoulder. His jaw is tight, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he kicks at small rocks along the sidewalk. He replays the entire thing in his head.

He apologized.

Didn’t he?

He showed up. Climbed yout house. Said sorry. What else was he supposed to do?

He mutters under his breath, calling the whole situation dumb, ridiculous. Calling you dramatic.

You just crawl back into bed and press play on your movie again, rather relieved than angry.

Cher’s voice fills the room.

You reach for a brownie.

Your fingers hit an empty plate.

You stare at it.

“Oh my god,” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes.

—

The next day feels like nothing happened, it’s a Saturday and you’re at the mall with your friends, like usual

The mall in the center of the city is loud. Every store window is screaming SALE in red letters. Somewhere above them, a movie trailer echoes from the cinema entrance. The air smells like hotdogs, sugar, perfume samples, and fryer oil all blending into one.

Every time you guys go there to “just walk around”, someone somehow leaves with an empty wallet.

The vibe between you and Riki, though? Ice cold.

You walk slightly ahead when he’s near. Conversations split awkwardly around you two. You guys barely acknowledge each others presence. Everyone notices. No one says it yet.

You split up near the giant directory map in the middle of the mall.

Heeseung, Sunoo and you walk towards the arcade, immediately distracted by blinking machines and the sound of digital coins clinking. Jungwon and Jay walk off with one mission only, to eat every free sample the mall has to offer.

Jake, Riki and Sunghoon head towards the skate shop onsecond floor.

“Bro, I’m telling you, softer wheels are better for street,” Jake insists.

“Yeah, if you like going slow,” Sunghoon shoots back.

Riki barely speaks. He flips a board over, studies it, doesn’t see it.

He sees you in his head instead, standing at your window, yelling at him to come back when he can take accountability.

They check every board. Compare prices. Debate colors. In the end, none of them buy anything.

When they walk out into the mall hallway again, the crown hits them full force. Sunghoon stretches his arms above his head.

“So,” Jay says casually. “You and her gonna keep pretending you don’t know each other?”

Riki clicks his tongue immediately. “She’s mad at me.”

“For?” Jake asks.

“I don’t know, man.” Riki snaps, defensive already. “I apologized.”

Sunghoon snorts. “Did you?”

“Yes,” Riki insists. “I climbed her window. I could’ve fallen and died bro. I said sorry.”

Jake squints at him. “For what?”

Riki opens his mouth.

Closes it.

“…For making her mad?”

Sunghoon actually laughs. “That’s not an apology, idiot.”

Riki runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “She was yelling about the joint, and the cigs, and that girl at the skate park. But I didn’t even do anything with that girl. I just caught her because she bumped into me.”

Jake raises a brow. “By her waist?”

Riki hesitates. “…On instinct.”

“Mm,” Sunghoon hums. “And then?”

“And then she dragged me to the window and kicked me out ‘cause I said Sunoo told me to apologize,” Riki mutters.

Both boys stare at him.

“You told her…” Jake says slowly, “that someone else told you to apologize.”

“I was joking. “And at least I apologized? I don’t see the problem.”

Jake lets out a sigh. “I don’t know how you ever got her to like you, man.”

Riki scowls. “I literally climbed into her room. What more does she want?”

Jake grins. “Maybe don’t touch random girls in front of her.”

“She ran into me.”

“And you caught her,” Sunghoon says dryly. “You couldn’t even catch your own girl when she fell.”

Riki groans. “It’s not like that.”

Jake smirks. “Then go tell her that.”

“She’ll just get mad again.”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Get better at apologizing.”

Meanwhile the boys are discussing how to apologize to girlfriends, you’re at the arcade, trying to win a stuffed animal.

The arcade is chaos, neon lights flickering, pixelated sound effects, the constant clink-clink of coins dropping somewhere. A racing game to your left, a dance machine behind you, and right in front of you—

The claw machine.

Inside it sits the biggest stuffed cat you’ve ever seen. Grey and white, oversized head, cute smile. It’s ridiculous. You want it immediately.

You shove another coin in.

Heeseung leans casually against the machine beside you. “You’ve been trying for like ten minutes.”

“I almost had it,” you mumble, eyes locked on the claw.

Sunoo crouches dramatically beside the glass. “Manifest it. Tell it you love it.”

“I do love it,” you whisper.

The claw drops.

Grabs the cat.

Lifts it.

For one beautiful second it hangs there.

“YES!”

Then slips.

The cat falls back into the pile.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you curse under your breath, stepping back in disbelief.

Heeseung laughs softly. “Y/n, did something happen between you and Riki?”

You don’t even look at him. “He was being a dick.”

Sunoo nods immediately. “Newsflash.”

Heeseung hums in agreement. “Fair.”

No further questions.

You shove another coin in aggressively. The claw misses completely this time and you kick the machine.

Heeseung gently nudges you aside. “Let me.”

You cross your arms, pretending you don’t care. “You’re gonna lose.”

The claw lowers.

It grips the stuffed cat around its head.

Lifts it.

Carries it over to the hole.

Drops.

The cat tumbles into the prize slot.

You and Sunoo scream like he just won an Olympic medal.

“NO WAY—” you laugh. It’s bigger than you expected, soft and and perfect.

Heeseung smiles, brushing his hands off. “All skill.”

He takes the cat from the slot and hands it to you with a small grin. “For your suffering.”

You hug it immediately. “You’re my favorite person.”

He just laughs.

ou three walk out of the arcade a few minutes later, the mall lights feeling calmer after all the flashing machines. You hold the stuffed cat in your arms like it’s something precious, its giant head resting against your shoulder.

Riki notices you.

From halfway down the hall, he spots you walking toward them, oversized plush cat in your arms, laughing at something Sunoo just said.

And unfortunately for his pride, you look cute. And pretty. And happy.

It does something uncomfortable to his chest.

The groups meet in the middle of the walkway.

Sunghoon claps his hands once. “We’re gonna go find Jungwon and Jay before they eat themselves sick.”

“Too late,” Heeseung says dryly.

They all start walking, Sunghoon and Jake up front debating something again, Sunoo walking slightly behind them.

Heeseung slows just enough to walk beside Riki for half a second.

He gives him a small nod toward you.

Go.

Riki exhales through his nose.

Fine.

He steps up, walking beside you.

You don’t look at him.

He notices that immediately.

He shoves his hands into his pockets, trying to sound casual. “Where’d you get that?”

Your eyes stay forward. “Arcade.”

“Obviously.”

“Heeseung won it for me.”

There’s something about the way you say it, so simple, that hits him wrong.

He glances at the stuffed cat.

Heeseung won it… not him.

“Oh,” Riki mutters. “Cool.”

You finally lift it slightly, showing him the cat’s stupid stitched smile. “It’s my new boyfriend.” You say it teasingly.

But Riki doesn’t smile.

Something annoyed flickers across his face before he masks it.

“Yeah?” he says, voice calm but a little tight. “He looks like he’d treat you better.”

You glance at him briefly, catching that tone.

“It doesn’t climb through windows uninvited,” you reply.

He huffs softly. “Yeah. It also doesn’t have legs.”

You shrug. “Less likely to run around with random girls then.”

He goes quiet for half a second.

Then he nudges the cat’s head lightly with his fingers. “He looks dumb.”

Your eyes narrow. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

“You really replacing me with a stuffed animal?”

You keep walking straight ahead.

“Depends. Can he apologize properly?” You say, then you step up your pace to nonchalantly walk away from Riki.

You eventually find Jungwon and Jay exactly where everyone expected them to be, around a food stand with tiny paper cups in their hands.

Jay is mid-sentence when the group walks up. “I’m telling you, if you circle back in ten minutes they forget your face.”

Jake nods seriously, holding up another sample. “This one’s teriyaki chicken. Third time.”

Heeseung sighs like a tired parent.

“Are we leaving?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon says.

Everyone slowly makes their way toward the mall exit.

Riki walks quietly behind everyone.

You do too.

By the time the glass doors slide open, the air outside is thick and warm, with the hum of traffic and laughs from somewhere down the street.

Sunghoon and Jake walk ahead, arguing about the best type of flipphone. Jay tries to convince Jungwon to stop at a convenience store on the way. Sunoo keeps poking Heeseung about the stuffed cat like it’s some kind of trophy.

You and Riki walk a few steps behind them again.

For a minute, neither of you says anything.

Your arms are wrapped around the giant plush cat, its soft head resting against your shoulder. Riki glances at it once, then looks ahead at the group, then down at the pavement like he’s building up the courage to say something.

Finally, he exhales and speaks.

“Y/n...”

You glance at him.

“I was being an asshole yesterday.”

You blink slightly.

He keeps walking beside you, hands in his pockets, gaze locked on the ground instead of on you.

“And… I’m sorry,” he adds. “For the cigarettes. And the joint. And that girl at the skatepark.”

You don’t interrupt.

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“And I’m sorry for not knowing how to say sorry,” he admits. “I know I kinda… suck at that.”

For a moment you just look at him.

Then a small giggle slips out before you can stop it.

He looks over immediately. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, smiling a little. “I just like hearing you apologise”.

He shakes his head with a quiet laugh.

“I maybe shouldn’t have kicked you out the window.” You say hesitantly.

He snorts. “Maybe?”

“Okay, I shouldn’t have done that.”

He slides his hand out of his pocket and slowly, almost carefully, he lets it brush against yours. When you don’t pull away, his fingers curl around your hand.

The group ahead of you turns a corner toward the quieter streets leading back to your neighborhood.

You glance at Riki. “Do you wanna come to my house?”

His eyebrows lift. “You gonna let me in trough the door this time?”

You roll your eyes. “If you behave.”

“I always behave, baby.”

You scoff softly. “Mhm… just pull your pants up before my parents see you.”

⊹

extra note: I rlly hate the ending, I had writers block…