blue🫧☆

You shouldn't have come.

The thought circles through your mind for the twentieth time as you stand in Sunoo's living room, clutching a glass of wine. The apartment is packed with familiar faces from the agency, producers, managers, a few artists you've worked with. Usually, you'd be comfortable at these gatherings, laughing and mingling without a second thought.

But that was before. Before you ended things. Before you spent two weeks trying to convince yourself it was the right decision.

Before you knew he'd be here.

You'd asked Sunoo, casually, who was coming tonight. He'd rattled off names, and Sunghoon's wasn't among them. You should've known better than to trust that. Sunoo was Switzerland in your breakup - neutral territory, friends with both of you, too kind to pick sides.

"You okay?" Sooha from marketing appears at your elbow, her eyebrows raised.

"Fine," you say, taking a sip of wine that's too large to be casual. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because your ex just walked in and you look like you're about to run."

Your eyes betray you, flickering toward the entrance. And there he is, Sunghoon, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to Sunoo with that easy confidence that always made your stomach flip. He's wearing black dress pants and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and you hate that you notice. Hate that you remember how those forearms look braced beside your head, how his hands…

Stop.

"I'm not going to run," you mutter, forcing your gaze back to Sooha. "We work together. We're adults."

"Mhmm." Sooha doesn't sound convinced. "Well, adult your way over to the balcony with us. Fresh air might help with whatever... this is." She gestures vaguely at your face.

You let her pull you through the crowd, grateful for the escape route. The balcony is already occupied by a small group, Heeseung and Jake, and a few others. The cool evening air is a relief against your flushed skin.

You slip into the conversation easily, letting the familiar work talk distract you. Heeseung is in the middle of a story about a recording session when you feel it - that prickling awareness at the back of your neck.

You don't have to turn around to know Sunghoon just stepped onto the balcony.

"- and then the mic just completely cut out," Heeseung is saying, but you've lost the thread of his story.

"That's rough," Sunghoon's voice cuts in, smooth and closer than you expected. He's leaning against the balcony doorframe, beer in hand, eyes scanning the group before landing on you. They linger for a second too long. "Should've called me. I could've fixed it in five minutes."

"Not everyone has your gift for salvaging disasters," Jake laughs, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air.

Sunghoon's lips quirk up. "No, I guess they don't."

You know that look. That particular smile that says he's not just talking about equipment. Your fingers tighten around your wine glass.

"Some disasters aren't worth salvaging," you say lightly, not looking at him.

The group goes quiet for a fraction of a second. Heeseung coughs.

"Depends on the disaster," Sunghoon says, pushing off the doorframe and moving into the circle. He positions himself almost directly across from you, and now you have no choice but to see him in your peripheral vision. "Some are worth fighting for."

"And some people don't know when to let things go," you counter, finally meeting his gaze.

His eyes are dark, intense, and there's something hungry in them that makes your breath catch. "Maybe I don't want to let go."

Heeseung clears his throat loudly. "So! Sooha, you were saying something about the press schedule?"

Bless Heeseung for trying, but the damage is done. You can feel everyone's eyes bouncing between you and Sunghoon like they're watching a tennis match. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid.

Sooha gamely picks up the conversation, and slowly the group's attention shifts. But you remain aware of Sunghoon. The way he occasionally adds to the conversation, charming and effortless, never quite looking away from you for long.

Ten minutes pass. Sooha appears at the balcony door, excuse of having to take a call, before disappearing back into the apartment.

Five more minutes. Jake checks his phone and announces he needs to leave early - something about his girlfriend. Heeseung decides to walk out with him, clapping Sunghoon on the shoulder as he goes.

And then it's just the two of you.

The silence stretches, filled only by the distant sound of music from inside and the city humming below. 

"You're avoiding me," Sunghoon says finally, setting his beer on the wide balcony railing.

"I'm not avoiding you. I'm literally standing right here."

"You've been avoiding me at work for two weeks." He takes a step closer. "You take the stairs instead of the elevator. You eat lunch at your desk. You leave exactly at five."

"Maybe I'm just busy."

"You're a terrible liar." Another step. He's close enough now that you can smell his cologne - the same one you bought him last Christmas. "You ended things and now you can't even look at me."

That stings enough to make you defensive. "I can look at you just fine."

"Then do it." It's not quite a challenge, but it's close.

You turn fully to face him, tilting your chin up. "Happy?"

"Not particularly." His voice drops lower. "I haven't been happy for two weeks."

Your heart hammers against your ribs. "Sunghoon."

"You said we lost our spark," he continues, and there's something raw in his expression now. "That things got too comfortable. Too routine."

"They did," you whisper, but even you can hear how weak it sounds.

"Is that why you haven't been able to sleep?" He's close enough now that you have to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact. "Why you look at me in meetings like you're trying to memorize my face? That doesn't feel very 'spark-less' to me."

"You don't know-"

"I know you, baby." The pet name slips out, and you both freeze. He seems about to apologize, then doesn't. "I know you better than anyone. And I know you're feeling this too."

"Feeling what?" But your voice comes out breathless.

"This." He gestures between you, and you realize you've unconsciously swayed closer. "Tell me you don't miss me. Look me in the eye and tell me the past two weeks have been easy for you."

But you've never been good at lying to Sunghoon.

"They haven't been easy," you admit quietly.

Something fierce and victorious flashes across his face. "Then why are we doing this? Why are we pretending?"

"Because comfortable isn't enough."

"Who said anything about comfortable?" He's in your space now, one hand coming up to cup your jaw. His thumb traces your cheekbone and you can't help the way you lean into the touch. "You want spark? You want excitement? I'll give you everything you want and more. But don't stand here and pretend you don't miss this. Miss us."

Your breath hitches. This close, you can see the faint shadows under his eyes, evidence that he hasn't been sleeping well either. Can see the desperate hope mixed with frustration in his expression.

"I" The words stick in your throat. You're saved, or maybe doomed, by Sunoo's voice calling from inside.

"Hey, Is everything okay?"

Sunghoon doesn't move, doesn't look away from you. "I'm leaving," he says quietly. "I can't stay here and pretend to be normal around you when all I want is to be with you and remind you exactly what we had."

Heat floods through you at his words, at the promise in his eyes.

"Come with me," he murmurs, his thumb still tracing idle patterns on your skin. "Or don't. But stop pretending you don't want to."

He drops his hand and steps back, and you immediately miss his warmth. You watch him walk back inside, stopping only to grab his jacket and say something to Sunoo. Your mind is racing, your skin still tingling where he touched you.

Going home with him would only complicate things, blur lines that you've spent two weeks trying to draw. But those two weeks have been miserable. And standing here on this balcony, you can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, can still see the intensity in his eyes when he said he'd give you everything.

Before you can overthink it further, you're moving. Through the balcony door, past the living room where everyone else was, toward where you saw Sunghoon head. You spot him near the entrance, shrugging on his jacket.

He sees you approaching and goes still, something hopeful and cautious crossing his face.

"We need to talk," you say, loud enough to be heard over the music.

His lips curve into a slow smile. "We can talk at my place."

"Just talk," you say, but you're already reaching for your coat.

"Sure, baby." The way he says it makes it clear talking is the last thing on his mind. "Whatever you want."

-

The car ride to Sunghoon's apartment is silent, but it's not peaceful. It's the kind of silence that crackles with electricity, heavy with everything you have been wanting to say. You notice every movement he makes - the way his hands grip the steering wheel, the flex of his jaw when he glances at you at a red light, the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"You're staring," he says, eyes still on the road, but there's a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm not."

"You are." He pulls up to another red light and finally turns to look at you fully. "Having second thoughts?"

"No," you whisper instead.

His eyes darken. "Good."

The light turns green, and he accelerates a little faster than necessary. His apartment is only five minutes away now, and each second feels like an eternity. Your heart is pounding so hard you're sure he can hear it.

"For the record," Sunghoon says as he pulls into his building's parking garage, "I don't think we lost our spark."

He parks the car but doesn't immediately get out. Instead, he turns to you, his expression serious.

"I think you got scared," he continues. "Scared of how good we were together. Scared of how much you felt. So you convinced yourself we were boring, routine, comfortable - anything to justify running away."

"That's not-"

"Isn't it?" He leans closer, and suddenly the car feels impossibly small. "You've always done this. When things get too real, too intense, you find a reason to pull back. But I'm not letting you do that anymore."

"You can't just-"

"Can't what?" His hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin. "Can't call you out? Can't tell you the truth? I've spent two weeks giving you space, letting you figure things out. But tonight, you came with me. That means something."

Your breath catches. "Sunghoon..."

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, leaning even closer. His lips are barely an inch from yours. "Tell me you don't want this, and I'll take you home right now. No questions asked."

Should do the smart, logical thing.But you've never felt less logical in your life.

Instead of answering, you close the distance between you and kiss him.

Sunghoon makes a sound low in his throat, surprise mixed with satisfaction, and then he's kissing you back with four years of familiarity and two weeks of desperation. His hand tightens on your neck, and you melt into him.

God, you'd forgotten how good he is at this. How he kisses like it's an art form, like he's trying to memorize the taste of you. How he knows exactly when to bite your bottom lip, when to deepen the kiss, when to pull back just enough to leave you chasing.

"Inside," he breathes against your mouth. "Now."

You've never moved faster in your life.

The elevator ride up to his floor is a blur of heated kisses and wandering hands. Sunghoon has you pressed against the elevator wall, one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping your hip. You're trying to maintain some semblance of control, but it's a losing battle when he kisses down your neck, finding that spot below your ear that makes you gasp.

"Still think we lost our spark?" he murmurs against your skin.

You dig your fingers into his shoulders. "Shut up."

The elevator dings, and somehow you make it to his door. Sunghoon fumbles with his keys, the first sign that he's not as composed as he's pretending to be, and finally gets the door open.

You barely register the familiar space of his apartment before he's on you again, kicking the door shut behind you and walking you backward until your back hits the wall. His hands are everywhere, your waist, your hips, sliding up your sides, and you arch into his touch, desperate for more.

"Do you have any idea," he says between kisses, "how hard it's been seeing you at work every day? Pretending I don't want to do this?" His hips press forward, and you gasp. "Pretending I'm over you when you're all I think about?"

"Sunghoon…"

"I'm not done." He pulls back just enough to look at you, and there's something fierce in his expression. "You want to know what I think? I think you ended things because we were too good together. Because you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with me, and that terrified you."

Your heart stops. He's not wrong. He's never been wrong when it comes to reading you.

"So here's what's going to happen," he continues, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that makes your knees weak. "You're going to stop running. Stop making excuses. And you're going to let me show you exactly what you walked away from."

"What if I don't want to?" You manage, trying to regain some control even as your body betrays you, leaning into his touch.

"Then tell me to stop." His hand slides up to cradle your face, thumb brushing over your lips. "Tell me you don't want me."

The words won't come. Because you do want this. Want him. Have wanted him every single day for the past two weeks, even when you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

"That's what I thought," he says softly, reading your silence correctly. Then his expression shifts, becomes something darker, more intense. "But here's the thing, baby. You don't get to call the shots tonight. You gave that up when you walked away. So if you want this - want us - you're going to have to trust me. Can you do that?"

Your breath is coming faster now, anticipation coiling tight in your stomach. This is the Sunghoon you remember, the one who could take you apart with just a look, just a word. The one who knew exactly what you needed, sometimes before you knew it yourself.

"Yes," you whisper.

"Yes, what?"

You know what he wants. "Yes, I trust you."

The smile he gives you is equal parts tender and predatory. "Good girl."

Then he's kissing you again, slower this time but no less intense. His hands map out his territory, the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, the sensitive spot on your ribs that makes you shiver.  "I missed this," he murmurs against your lips. "Missed you. The way you taste, the sounds you make, the way you say my name when I-"

You cut him off with another kiss, because if he finishes that sentence you might actually combust. Your hands find their way under his shirt, skating over warm skin and hard muscle, and you feel him shudder.

"Bedroom," you manage to gasp out.

"So eager." But he's already moving, pulling you away from the wall and toward the hallway. "What happened to 'just talking'?"

"Shut up, Sunghoon."

"There she is." He sounds delighted. "There's my girl. I was wondering when you'd stop being so passive."

He's baiting you, you realize. Trying to get you to push back, to fight for control. It's a game you've played a thousand times before, this push and pull between you.

Well. Two can play at that game.

You stop walking, forcing him to stop too. Then, with more confidence than you feel, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him down for a kiss that's all teeth and demand. He makes a surprised sound, hands coming up to grip your hips, and you smile against his mouth.

"Who says I'm your girl?" you challenge, even as your fingers work at the buttons of his shirt.

"You are." He catches your hands, stopping your progress. "You've always been mine, even when you tried to pretend otherwise. And I'm going to spend all night reminding you of that fact."

Before you can respond, he's lifting you up. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, gasping at the sudden shift, and he carries you the rest of the way to his bedroom like you weigh nothing.

The room is exactly as you remember.  He sets you down on the edge of it, and for a moment you both just look at each other, breathing hard. "Last chance," Sunghoon says, though his hands are already reaching for you. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

You respond by pulling him down onto the bed with you.

What follows is a tangle of limbs and breathless kisses. Every touch is familiar yet feels new, charged with two weeks of longing and frustration. Sunghoon kisses every inch of exposed skin like he's reclaiming his territory, and you can't help the sounds that escape you.

"I love these sounds," he murmurs against your collarbone. "Love that I'm the only one who gets to hear them."

"Confident," you manage, though it comes out shaky.

"Not confidence. Fact." His hand trails down your side, and you arch into the touch. "You're mine. Say it."

"Make me."

Wrong thing to say. Or maybe the right thing, depending on how you look at it.

He chuckles, but instead of biting back, his eyes flash with something dangerous and delicious. And then he's kissing you again, deep and claiming, and you lose yourself in the sensation. In him. In this moment you've been denying yourself for two weeks but have been desperate for every second of every day.

"I'm going to take such good care of you," he promises against your lips. "Going to remind you exactly why we're perfect together. Why you should never have left. And by the time I'm done with you, you're going to wonder how you ever survived these two weeks without me."

You believe him. God help you, you believe every word.

And as his hands and mouth continue their thorough exploration, as he whispers praise and promises in equal measure, as your body responds to his touch like it's been waiting for this exact moment, you realize something.

You never stopped being his. You never stopped loving him. You just got scared.

But right now, with Sunghoon's weight pressing you into the mattress, with his name on your lips and his hands mapping out every inch of your skin, fear is the last thing on your mind.

You shove at his chest, not hard enough to push him away, but enough to make him pause. 'Who said you get to call the shots?' you snap, your voice breathy but defiant. 

He chuckles, low and dark, his breath hot against your neck as he nips at the skin there. 'Oh, kitten, you know exactly who calls the shots. But go on, fight me. Makes it sweeter when you break.' His hands slide down to your hips, gripping hard enough to bruise, and he grinds against you, letting you feel the thick length of his cock straining against his pants. It's been weeks, but your body remembers him like muscle memory - your core clenching, wetness already soaking through your panties.

You bite his lip in retaliation, hard enough to draw a hiss from him. 'Fuck you, Sunghoon. I'm not your kitten.' But even as you say it, you're arching into him, your thighs parting instinctively when his knee nudges between them. Bratty words, but your body's betraying you, craving the way he takes control.

'That's right, keep talking shit,' he growls, one hand fisting in your hair to tilt your head back, exposing your throat. He licks a stripe up your neck, sucking a mark just below your jaw. 'You love it when I put you in your place. Remember last time? How you begged for my cock after I spanked that pretty ass red?' His free hand slips under your skirt, fingers brushing the edge of your lace panties, teasing the damp fabric.

A whimper escapes you before you can stop it, and you hate how it sounds, needy, desperate. But you won't give in that easy. You grab his wrist, halting his progress, and flip their positions with a surge of adrenaline, slamming him back against the bed. It's a clumsy move, your heart pounding, but it works. For a second. His eyes widen in surprise, then narrow with amusement. 'Look at you, trying to switch it up. We both know you can't handle topping me.'

You grind down on his thigh, the friction sending sparks up your spine. 'Watch me.' Your hands work at his belt, yanking it open with fumbling urgency. His cock springs free when you shove his pants down, heavy and veined, the tip already throbbing. You wrap your hand around it, stroking firmly from base to head, twisting your wrist just how he likes. He groans, head laying back against the mattress, but his hand covers yours, guiding the pace slower, torturously so.

'Not so fast, baby. You don't get to rush this.' He spins you again, effortless, like you weigh nothing. You stumble, laughing breathlessly as you both collapse onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs. He's on top, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand while the other shoves your skirt up to your waist. 'Spread your legs for me. Show me how wet you are for the ex you claim to hate.'

You buck against him, testing his hold, but he doesn't budge. You just chuckle mockingly. It's a challenge, and his response is immediate - a sharp slap to your inner thigh that stings deliciously. You gasp, thighs parting on instinct, and he rewards you by ripping your panties aside, two fingers plunging into your soaked pussy without warning.

'Fuck, you're dripping,' he praises, voice rough as he curls his fingers, hitting that spot that makes your vision blur. 'Such a messy little slut for me. Say it. Tell me you missed this pussy getting stretched by my fingers.'

You clench around him, hips rolling to chase the pressure, but you bite out, 'Missed nothing. You're just - ah - decent at it.' Lie, obvious lie, but the way his eyes flash tells you he loves the game.

He adds a third finger, pumping harder, his thumb circling your clit with brutal precision. 'Liar. This cunt's clenching like it never wants me to stop. Come on, admit it. You broke up with me because you couldn't handle how good I fuck you.' His mouth descends, capturing a nipple through your blouse, teeth grazing the hardened peak.

The dual assault has you writhing, moans spilling from your lips despite yourself. 'Shut up and make me cum, then.' You're close, so close, the coil tightening as he scissors his fingers inside you, stretching you open.

'Not yet. You cum when I say.' He withdraws suddenly, leaving you empty and aching, a whine of protest bubbling up. He smirks, licking his fingers clean with deliberate slowness, eyes locked on yours. 'Taste like you’re mine. Always have.'

Before you can retort, he's flipping you onto your stomach, yanking your hips up so your ass is in the air. The first smack lands on your cheek, firm and echoing, followed by another on the other side. 'Count them,' he orders, voice laced with that dominant edge that makes your knees weak.

'One,' you gasp, pushing back for more. 'Two, fuck, harder.' By the fifth, your skin's burning, pussy throbbing with need, and you're dripping down your thighs. He soothes the sting with his palm, then spreads your cheeks, his breath ghosting over your exposed holes.

'Look at this pretty pussy. Begging to be fucked.' His tongue flicks out, tracing your tight entrance while his fingers dive back into your pussy. The sensation is overwhelming, wet, hot, filthy - and you bury your face in the pillow, muffling your cries. 'That's it, take it like a good girl. My bratty little bitch, pretending she doesn't need this.'

You reach back, grabbing his hair to pull him closer, grinding against his face. 'If you're so good, why am I still waiting for your cock?' Teasing, always teasing, even as pleasure builds again.

He rises up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and lines himself up. The head of his cock nudges your entrance, slick with your arousal. 'Because I want you begging first.' He thrusts in halfway, stretching you wide, and holds still, letting you feel every inch.

'Please, Hoon, fuck me,' you plead, the words tumbling out. No more games. You need him buried deep.

'There's my girl.' He snaps his hips forward, bottoming out in one brutal stroke, his balls slapping against your clit. The pace he sets is relentless, pounding into you with wet, obscene sounds filling the room. 'So tight, taking me so well. You were made for this cock, weren't you? Say it.'

'Yes - fuck, yes' Each thrust punches the air from your lungs, his hand snaking around to rub your clit in tight circles, building up the pleasure. 

“Feels so good.” he rasps, leaning over your back, his chest pressing against your spine as he grinds into you, the new angle hitting even deeper. His teeth graze your shoulder, biting down just enough to mark without breaking skin. 'Feel that? How I'm owning this pussy? You can fight all you want, but you're mine to fuck whenever I please.'

You push back against him, meeting his thrusts with your own, the overstimulation making every nerve sing. 'Prove it then, harder. Show me why I can't quit you.' Your voice is wrecked, but the defiance lingers, spurring him on.

He laughs darkly, one hand wrapping around your throat from behind, not squeezing, just holding you in place as he picks up speed again. The slap of skin on skin echoes louder, his free hand digging into your hip to pull you onto him with force. 'That's it, brat. Squeeze my dick like you mean it. God, you're perfect, so tight and greedy, sucking me in like you never want me to leave.'

You arch further, chasing the friction as his finger  finds your clit once more, rubbing in firm, insistent strokes. The pressure builds anew, sharper this time, your body trembling under the onslaught. 'Shit, I'm gonna-”. You couldn't even finish your sentence before you cum hard, walls fluttering around him, milking his length as you start to see stars. But he doesn't stop, doesn't pull out, instead, he slows his rhythm, dragging his cock out almost entirely before sliding back in deep and deliberate, letting you ride the aftershocks while building you up again.'

He pulls out, flipping you onto your back, and slots between your thighs again. 'I want to see your face when you cum on my dick again.' His strokes are slower now, deeper, grinding against your g-spot with every pass. You wrap your legs around his waist, nails digging into his shoulders, urging him on.

His hand cups your breast, thumb flicking the nipple as he picks up speed. 'God, I love how you fight me. Makes me want to ruin you every fucking night.'

The dirty talk pushes you higher, your second orgasm building fast. 'Then do it. Ruin me, Sunghoon. Fill me up.' Words filthy and bold, and it spurs him on as one of your hands grip his hair, and the other dragging your nails into his back. He groans, hips stuttering as he chases his release.

'Fuck, gonna cum inside you. Mark you as mine again.' With a final, deep thrust, he spills hot and thick into your pussy, the sensation tipping you over the edge. You clench around him, riding out the waves together, bodies slick with sweat.

He stays buried inside you for a long moment after, his cock softening slowly as your combined releases leak out between your thighs, warm and sticky. His weight is a comforting press against you, but he shifts carefully, easing out with a soft, wet sound that makes you both shiver. 'Easy, baby,' he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before rolling to the side, pulling you with him so you're draped over his chest, legs tangled in the sheets.

The room is still hazy with the scent of your passion, but Sunghoon's focus sharpens on you now, his hands moving with tender care. One palm strokes down your spine in soothing circles, while the other cups your face, thumb brushing away a stray tear of overwhelm from the corner of your eye. 'You okay? Did I go too hard?' His voice is low, laced with genuine concern, the dominant edge from moments ago replaced by quiet vulnerability.

You nod, nuzzling closer, your cheek against the steady thump of his heart. 'Perfect. Just... intense. In the best way.' Your fingers trace idle patterns on his skin, feeling the faint sheen of sweat cooling there.

He smiles, that rare, soft one that crinkles his eyes, and leans down to kiss your temple. 'Good. Stay right here.' He doesn't let go as he reaches for the nightstand, grabbing a soft cloth from the drawer. He goes and wets it just enough to clean you up gently, starting with your thighs. The cool touch is a balm against your sensitive skin, and he works methodically, wiping away the evidence of your pleasure without a hint of rush or judgment. 'There we go,' he murmurs when he's done, tossing the cloth aside and pulling the comforter over both of you, covering  you in warmth.

His arms wrap around you fully now, one hand cradling the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair in slow, rhythmic pets. 'You're incredible, you know that? The way you take everything I give... fuck, it drives me crazy. But more than that, I just... I love seeing you like this. Safe. With me.' The words are hushed confessions, spilling out in the afterglow, his lips brushing your hairline between each one.

You melt into him, the exhaustion settling in like a warm wave, but his touch keeps you grounded. 'Love you too, even when you're a bossy jerk.' It's teasing, light, but your hand finds his, lacing your fingers together and squeezing.

He chuckles softly, the vibration rumbling through his chest. 'Yeah, well, someone's gotta keep that brat in check.' But there's no bite, only affection. He shifts to grab a pillow, propping it under your head for better support, then tucks you closer, his leg hooking over yours to keep you steady. As your breaths even out together, his humming starts - a low, wordless tune from some old song you both used to listen to - and it lulls you deeper into peace in his embrace.

requests are open!

It was an unexpected situation being stuck at home with Heeseung during the pandemic lockdown. He was only a few years older than you, but at very different stages of life - you were still in college while he had already graduated and was just living at home to save money.

With both your parents working the afternoon shift at the hospital as essential workers, you two had the house to yourselves during the day. You figured Hee would spend most of that time holed up in his room, playing video games and chatting with his friends online like usual. And at first, that's exactly what happened. For weeks, he'd wake up late and then disappear into his room, the sounds of gameplay and his friends' voices filtering out from behind the closed door.

Meanwhile, you filled those lonely days by mindlessly scrolling on your phone or napping the hours away in your own room, emerging only to grab food. The house felt eerily quiet and empty even with Heeseung there. You were both just about existing under the same roof, going about your isolated pandemic existence in parallel lines.

Seung had always been the quiet, reserved type - never one to flaunt romantic relationships or bring many girls around. He kept things low-key, sticking to his close circle of friends whom he was intensely loyal to. Looking at him, you would assume he never had any luck with the ladies. But saying he NEVER brought a girl home would be a complete and utter lie.

Back when he was in university, every once in a blue moon, you'd hear some...noises coming from his bedroom late at night. At first, you tried to ignore it, but the sounds of rhythmic creaking and muffled gasps were unmistakable. Your face would burn realizing what was going on in the next room over.

Your bedroom happened to border his, the thin walls giving you unintentionally intimate knowledge of Heeseung’s occasional overnight guests. A soft feminine giggle would drift through, followed by his low rumbling tones, indistinct but clearly meant to be seductive. The telltale sounds of activity would start up again minutes later.

You'd lie awake, pulling your pillow tightly over your ears, trying desperately to block it all out. But it never worked - small creaks, breathy gasps, and rhythmic squeaks of the bedsprings would persistently filter through no matter what. On those nights, you couldn’t help but to slip your fingers into your panties, wondering what it would be like if it were you in the room with him instead. This would even happen on nights of complete silence. The thought of being fucked senselessly by your stepbrother was eating you alive.

But the next morning was always awkward. You'd have to look Heeseung in the eye over breakfast, knowing you'd been an unwitting aural witness to his private activities. He'd act like nothing happened, utterly shameless, while you averted your eyes burning with silent humiliation.

Those rare evenings served as reminders that Hee did indeed have a sexual side, despite his outward personas a quiet, studious homebody.

You were surprised but pleased when Hee first started initiating hangouts and inviting you into his personal space. At first, it seemed innocent enough - watching movies together in his room, playing co-op video games side-by-side, or even just sitting in comfortable silence as you both worked or read. A welcomed change from the isolation you'd both been existing in.

But as the weeks rolled on, those hangout sessions started awakening feelings in you that you never expected to have towards your stepbrother. With so much time spent together in close quarters, you began noticing things about him that you'd previously overlooked - the way his shirts hugged his toned arms, how his brow crinkled adorably when he was concentrating, the rich warmth of his laugh.

You found yourself stealing sidelong glances at him as he gamed, admiring the sharp line of his jaw and how effortlessly cool he looked with that headset on. Or zoning out while bingeing shows, becoming hyper-aware of him next to you on the bed, close enough that you could smell his subtle cologne and body wash.

At first you brushed off those wayward thoughts and traitorous flutters in your belly. This was just your loneliness and proximity talking after being cooped up together for so long. But you couldn't deny the way your skin grew warm whenever Heeseung’s hand brushed yours reaching for the popcorn. Or how your breath caught when he absently stretched and his shirt rode up, exposing a tantalizing glimpse of toned abdomen.

What started as harmless hangouts quickly began skirting a dangerous line once you registered the undeniable physical attraction simmering between you two. You noticed him sneaking appreciative looks at you as well sometimes. The shifting energy was palpable, brewing tension that went beyond just bonding as stepson and stepdaughter.

Those hangouts that once brought you connective comfort took on a new, charged meaning. You tried to bury the symbolic meaning behind Seung inviting you alone into his private bedroom sanctuary. But it became impossible to ignore when he started finding excuses to "accidentally" graze you with his knee or arm, sending tingles through you at every simple point of contact.

It became a delirious game of brutal restraint and forced obliviousness whenever you were alone with him. You overanalyzed every smile, laugh, and lingering touch, uncertain whether you were reading too much into the gestures or if he felt the same smoldering tension. The captive, heavy atmosphere only grew more stifling with each encounter until you knew something had to finally burn through and break.

————-

The bedroom door clicks shut behind you and instantly that familiar electric tension crackles in the air. Your heart pounds as you turn to face Heeseung lounging on his bed, controller in hand as he's immersed in another video game.

"Hey, wanna join?" he asks casually, patting the space beside him. Such an innocent invitation loaded with so much more weight these days.

You nod, trying to keep your cool as you settle onto the bed, your sides brushing. The warmth of his body so close to yours is utterly disarming. His intoxicating cologne and body wash surrounds you in an arousing haze. You try to focus on the game but are hyperaware of every subtle movement, every shifted position that puts your bodies even closer.

Heeseung curses as his character dies and you chance a sidelong glance at him. The way the words slip from his mouth is so insanely sexy. The tendons in his forearms flex entrancingly as he grips the controller. Your gaze tracks up to the sharp line of his jaw, admiring his beautiful tanned skin. You tear your eyes away before he catches you staring, but not before drinking in the broad expanse of his shoulders straining against his t-shirt.

As the gameplay continues on, you can't resist sneaking admiring looks at the man beside you. The man who has been awakening such unbidden feelings and cravings in you for weeks now. The chemistry between you both has built to a fever pitch you can no longer ignore or rationalize away.

Your entire body is hyper-tuned to him, tingling at every casual point of contact - his knee brushing your thigh, the tickle of his arm hair grazing your skin as he shifts positions. You imagine how electrifying it would feel to have those muscled limbs wrapped around you instead of just these maddening, transient touches.

Hee lets out a dramatic groan of frustration at another death, running a hand through his soft brown hair. You watch hungrily as his shirt rides up to expose a tantalizing strip of toned abdomen. Does he have any idea the effect he has on you with these simple, unaware gestures? The aching need he stokes in you just by existing so close?

As if he can sense your yearning gaze, Heeseung turns his head to meet your eyes. You feel pinned under the heated intensity of his stare, rendered breathless as he deliberately lets his eyes drag over every inch of you. The atmosphere thickens further with the sudden acknowledgment that you both feel this irresistible magnetic pull.

In that searing, loaded look, you see reflected the inner turmoil you've been grappling with - the tangled guilt over these unbrotherly urges warring with the feverish desire that leaves you undone at his smallest glance. The unspoken question of what might happen if one of you finally has the courage to act on those simmering tensions that charge every breath between you.

You can't take this torture any longer. Your mouth is dry, body humming with arousal and need as you open your mouth to finally break the silence. But Heeseung cuts you off by closing the scant distance between you in one decisive movement, capturing your lips in a searing, hungry kiss you've been starving for.

————-

He pulls your head down into a more passionate kiss. You could tell that he has been wanting this. These kisses started turning into rougher, sloppier ones. Your tongues were exploring each other's mouths. He is naturally such a great kisser. He knew what to do and when to do it. He even bit your lip a few times, which was extremely hot.

He sat on the edge of the bed and signaled for you to straddle him. Such an invitation could not go unaccepted, so you crawled onto his lap and continued kissing.

     Without even realizing it, you start grinding your hips while on his lap, creating friction that you both desperately needed. It was so subtle but so effective. It made your breaths shallow but you didn't want Hee to say anything about it. You tried so hard to contain your self but you let out a slight moan.

"Mhmm do you like that baby?, you didn't think I would notice what you are doing here?, don't worry because i'm really enjoying it to."

     WHAT? You think to yourself. "I'm glad you are enjoying yourself." he says as he slightly chuckles.

     This man KNOWS how to make you feel embarrassed, but he doesn't mind what you are doing and you surely don't either. It's as if he were saying these things to provoke you to do it more. So you did. You were desperate.

     You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter. You could also feel his bulge get a lot more obvious under you.

     He gets to the point where he can't take it anymore. He grabs you and picks you up, in the same position that you were sitting on his lap in, and he turns you around and slams you onto the bed, having you laying on your back.

     His pants looked like they were getting tight from his  painfully large erection. You are so tempted to strip him of his clothes and have it your way, but, you knew that he wasn't gonna happen.

     He crawls on top of you and starts kissing you again. This time, more forceful and hungrily. He then starts kissing down your neck and your collarbones. He sucks on your sensitive skin, leaving purple hickies all over your upper chest and neck.

     Both you and him start breathing heavily. He pulls at the bottom of your t-shirt, signaling that he wanted to take it off of you. You lift your arms and he slides your shirt off.  You are left exposed with only a bra on. He goes in and starts leaving hickies on the exposed parts of your breasts.

     He goes back up to kissing your lips passionately while caressing your breasts with his big, muscular hands.

     You feel one of his hands slide down you back, you assume it's to unhook your bra. The feeling of his hand grazing on your back gives you goose bumps. He unhooks your bra and gently pulls it off of you.

     He admires your beautiful, topless body.

"I hope you know that I have wanted this for so long, ever since our parents got together" He said sincerely.

     You can't help but to blush. You are left speechless. You pull him down to give him another kiss.

     He pulls away from your lips and immediately goes down to sucking on your nipples. He swirls his tongue and it make you short of breath. "Ah~h~ you are so good at this Seungie." You hands are gripping his hair, fueling him to do more.

He stands up and towers over you, throwing his shirt off and to the side. His eyes were full of lust and determination. He ran his fingers up your thighs and stopped to hold them around the seam of your shorts. You lift up your hips, assuring him that it is okay to take them off.

He pulls of your shorts and your panties in one go. “You always look so fucking hot in these shorts when you walk around the house, but i’ve always wondered what you would look like with them off” he says in a deep, raspy voice. His bulge poking through his basketball shorts brushes against your naked pussy, making you so much more desperate.

“I have felt the exact same way about you” you return, leaning up and tugging at the waist of his shorts. “Please let me taste you” you begged.

He can’t help but to have a huge smile on his face and his shorts drop to the ground. His throbbing cock springs out, catching you by surprise. You imaged it to be big, but not like this. Heeseung could see the fear in your eyes as you knelt down to the ground.

“Don’t be scared sweetheart, I will make it fit”.

You don’t know of him saying this makes you feel reassured or more scared but you continued either way.

You grab the base of it and start off with small licks, trying to build up the courage to take more of it. He hummed a little bit when you put your mouth on it. He starts to run his fingers though your hair in the midst of it all.

Once you got confident enough to take more, you found yourself putting you mouth around it and sucking on it more. You start bobbing your head up and down. You were only taking about a third of it to tease him.

He is relieved from all of his built of tension finally being released by the feeling of your mouth around his dick, replicating the real thing.

He soon gets tired of you only sucking on the top and he grips your hair and slowly pushes your head a little bit farther each time, which didn't bother you too much because despite being scared of the size at the start, your throat seemed to mold to the size of his dick very easily.

He groans quietly because he doesn't want to admit that this good feeling has taken a toll on him. Suddenly, he pushes your head all of the way down, with the head touching the back of your throat. He repeats the motion, he is face fucking you with no shame.

The sound of you gagging on his dick and the sound of his quiet moans mixed together made you feel really good. Cute tears start rolling down your face and he looks down to you.

"You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth, and with the tears in your eyes... I almost want to take a picture and save it for later." he said admiringly

You wish he fucking did. You wish that you had met him before your parents met, so that you both could be together instead.

When he talks to you this way you can't feel any other way but than accomplished. You, making your stepbrother feel really good, was a hard concept for you to grasp, but you loved it.

He pulls out of your mouth and pushed your back onto the bed. He leans down and hovers him self over you. “Are you sure you want this” he whispered in your ear. You could feel nothing but horniness and desperation and all you could do was agree to cross the line that could never be taken back.

"Yes, please, this is exactly what I need."

He smiled at your words and starts massaging your clit with his tip slapping it on you wet folds. One he felt the time was right, he gently inserts himself inside of you.

"Fuuuck~" he said under his breath.

He starts with 1 inch, then 2, then 3 until he is almost all the way inserted in you. Giving you time to adjust to his size. He starts going in and out slowly, making sure that you are as comfortable as possible. You winced at the pain at the beginning, but slowly, the pain was turning into pleasure. You had never taken a cock this big in the past, the new feeling was exciting, but stung as well.

     He starts picking up the pace once you signaled that it was okay for him to do so. His face and chest was glistening with sweat which you found extremely hot. His deep breathing and the faces he would make as he was sliding his member in and out of you is something that you just don't forget.

“We should have been doing this a long time ago, I can’t get enough of this pussy” he groans

Your cheeks turn red at the thought that these forbidden feelings for your step sibling were not one sided.

     He starts going fully in and almost all of the way out with each stroke. He throws his head back in pleasure and his grunts and moans start to get louder. The pace is really fast and it feels like you are on a whole new world. The sound of your skin slapping together and the sound from how wet you are make the atmosphere of the room more intense. Your moans are all over the place, changing from whimpers, to gasping for air, or just screaming his name.

     He used his thumb to stimulate your clit. He was like a professional, knowing every trick in the book to make a woman cum. This in itself would make you reach your high very quickly, but you try to hold it back.

     "I had imagined your pussy to be heavenly, but this is so much better." Seung says smiling. He takes pride in making you really wet.

“It feels- So good” You choke up. A few more strokes and you could start to feel your orgasm approaching.

     "Angh, i'm almost there Hee." you say out of breath.

     "Hold it back for me, for just a little bit longer." he says. You are determined to wait until he says it's okay.

He pounds deeper into your pussy, brushing agains your most sensitive spot, making you scream out. His tip repeatedly pressing against your cervix as he bottoms out, as if his dick was perfectly made to fit inside of only you.

Your walls clenched around his dick and he became more breathless. “Let’s cum together”

“Please Seungie, i’m so close pleaseee”

Your cute begs sent him over the edge. He strokes getting slower and sloppier as he releases his seed inside of you. His dick was pulsating inside of you while you rode out your high, digging your nails into his back while trying to contain yourself.

He slowly pulls his limp dick out of you and grabs a rag to clean you up. He leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead. “You can not not anyone” he states sternly.

“Not a soul” you responded looking directly into his eyes.

Jungwon is just another popular boy in my senior class. He’s on the football team, he has a lot of friends, and I guess, if I had to say something nice about him, his face isn’t the worst-looking thing in the world. But none of those things are the reason I give him any of my attention. He is only relevant to me because we are in competition for valedictorian for my graduating class.

My school usually chooses valedictorian at the end of the fall semester, after final grades are put in. I have been working hard day and night with AP classes and extra study sessions scheduled on the weekends to make sure I am a contender for the top spot. It’s October now, so I only have a month and a few weeks to prepare for finals and perfect my AP scores.

Jungwon, on the other hand, makes the whole ‘top of the class thing’ seem so easy. He’s always at practice or at football games, always out with his friends on the weekends, and seemingly doesn’t seem like he has to put much effort into high exam grades and having a good image with the teachers. He is naturally gifted. I hate it.

——-

AP Calculus Tutoring Sessions Available

- Free for students

- Flexible session times

- Help Prepping for AP exam

Scan QR code below for details

I walk down the hall and see a flier on the school bulletin board. Free tutoring sessions? My ACT prep course just ended, so I might be able to set up some more tutoring? I ended up just taking a photo of the flier and continued walking towards 6th period, AP English IV.

I push open the door, the faint scent of dry-erase markers and overused textbooks lingering in the air. The lights hum softly overhead, casting a glow on the rows of desks already half-filled with my classmates. My only friend, Kazuha, is already seated near the window, idly doodling in the corner of her notebook. I slide into the seat beside her, dropping my bag with a thud. She glanced up, offering me a small smile.

“Hey," she says casually, nudging me with her elbow. “You wanna hang out this weekend? Maybe catch that new movie or just, you know, do something not related to school?"

I let out a soft sigh, already feeling the weight of my responsibilities pressing against my chest. “I’d love to, really," I start, fiddling with the edge of my notebook. “But I might be setting up extra tutoring sessions. I just found this flier about AP Calculus tutoring, and with finals coming up, I can’t afford to slack off."

Kazuha nods knowingly, the disappointment flickering briefly before it’s replaced with understanding. “Yeah, I get it. Valedictorian race and all. Just don’t forget to breathe, okay?"

I manage a small smile, grateful for her understanding, even though a part of me wishes I could say yes without the gnawing guilt of lost study hours. I just wish there was more time in the day so I could spend time with her and not worry about school, but there’s no room for distractions… not when Jungwon exists.

——

The rest of the school day goes by. I head out to my car, slowly packing my things into it. I look over to the football field in the distance. I hear the music playing while all of the sweaty boys practice. I lose my train of thought when I open my driver door and get into my seat. Hands on the steering wheel, I think to myself, maybe I could get a tutoring session set up for tomorrow?

I pull into the driveway, the crunch of gravel beneath my tires grounding me after another long day. The house is quiet, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound greeting me as I step inside. I drop my bag by the door, kick off my shoes, and collapse onto the worn-out couch, my body sinking into the cushions like it’s been waiting for this moment all day.

With a sigh, I pull out my phone, remembering the flier I snapped a photo of earlier. My thumb hovers for a second, debating if I really want to add more to my already overloaded schedule. But the thought of Jungwon’s effortless grades pushes me forward. I scan the QR code, and a simple form pops up: name, subject, preferred time. I type in my details, selecting a 5 p.m. slot for tomorrow, my fingers hesitating only briefly before I hit submit.

The exhaustion catches up with me, and I drift in and out of sleep on the couch, the soft glow of my phone screen the last thing I see. When I finally rouse again, groggy and disoriented, I notice a notification blinking. It’s been almost three hours.

Tutoring Session Confirmed: 5 p.m. Tomorrow.

The message is concise, followed by another asking for my contact information. I reply, exchanging quick details before receiving the tutor’s address. I glance at it, not recognizing the street name, but I plug it into my maps app anyway.

——-

The next day, after another grueling round of practice quizzes, I find myself driving to the address provided. The neighborhood is quiet, lined with neatly trimmed hedges and identical mailboxes. As I get closer and closer to the destination on the GPS, I notice a familiar car in the driveway. I park, double-checking the number on the house, and take a deep breath. This is it. Another step towards securing my spot as valedictorian.

I knock on the door, my heart pounding more from anticipation than nerves. The door swings open, and there he is.

Jungwon.

He’s dressed casually, no football jersey in sight, just a simple T-shirt and jeans. His expression mirrors my own shock for a split second before it shifts into that infuriatingly easy smile of his.

“Well,” he says, leaning casually against the doorframe, “This is unexpected.”

I blink, momentarily speechless, before managing to find my voice. “You’re the tutor?”

“Looks like it,” he replies, stepping aside to let me in. “Guess we’re not just competing in class anymore.”

I step inside, determined to make the most of this, even if it means learning from the very person I’m trying to beat.

——-

“I don’t know if I want to do this anymore,” I hesitate as I wait a second before taking my shoes off.

“Don’t be such a fucking baby, Y/N. I need these hours for my college application, and you need it for…. better grades… I guess,” he complained, rolling his eyes.

Whatever. I take my shoes off and follow him up the stairs to his room. He slowly opens the door to reveal the den he has been living in this whole time.

“Don’t mind the mess,” he blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. Mess? This room is cleaner than my room has ever been.

“I don’t mind,” I reassure him, and I set my bag down on his bed. I glance at his neat desk, textbooks stacked with precision, a single notebook open to a page covered in immaculate handwriting. I pull out my own materials, spreading them across the bed as I settle in, though my mind isn’t fully on calculus just yet.

“Hey,” I start, unable to suppress the question burning in the back of my throat. “Why are you even doing tutoring? You’re set. Everyone knows you’re getting into whatever school you apply to.”

Jungwon pauses, his pencil hovering above his notebook. He doesn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening slightly before he exhales, setting the pencil down.

“Because it looks good on applications,” he says flatly, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes, a crack in the perfect facade he wears so effortlessly.

“That’s it?” I press, arching an eyebrow.

He sighs, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “No. Not really. It’s… expected. My parents think it shows leadership or whatever. Plus, if I don’t keep busy with something ‘productive,’ they think I’m slacking.” He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Can’t just be a kid, I guess.”

That catches me off guard. For a moment, the image I’ve built of Jungwon, the golden boy with the effortless charm, shifts. He’s not so different from me after all.

“Yeah, well,” I mutter, fiddling with my pen, “at least you have people expecting you to succeed. I put all this pressure on myself. No one would care if I wasn’t top of the class, but I’d hate myself for it.”

Silence stretches between us, heavy but not uncomfortable. He nods slowly, like he understands exactly what that feels like.

“Guess we’re both kind of screwed, huh?” he says with a crooked smile.

I can’t help but laugh softly. “Yeah. Guess so.”

We start the calculus work after that, the tension easing as we argue over derivatives and integration techniques. His explanations are sharp, concise, but I refuse to let him have the satisfaction of thinking he’s a better tutor than I am a student. Our bickering is light, almost playful, each sarcastic comment met with an eye-roll or a smirk. Maybe even a playful punch on the arm here and there.

Before I know it, the session is over. I pack my things slowly, feeling oddly reluctant to leave.

As I sling my bag over my shoulder, Jungwon clears his throat. “Hey,” he says, like the words are heavier than they should be, “you should come to the homecoming game next Friday.”

I blink, surprised. “What? Why?”

He shrugs, trying to seem casual, but there’s a hint of something genuine underneath. “I don’t know. Maybe for a break from all… this,” he gestures vaguely between us, “or maybe just to see me crush it on the field.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s a warmth spreading in my chest I can’t quite explain.

“I’ll think about it,” I reply, already knowing I probably will. “Are we set for another session next Saturday, same time?” I say while inching towards the door.

“Yes, that’s fine. I’ll text you if anything changes.”

——-

Monday dreadfully rolls back around. Going back to the same routine of class every day and studying every night. When I get to 6th period, I set my stuff down next to Kazuha and slide into my chair, the same as usual. As the bell rings, signaling the start of 6th period, she’s sketching absentmindedly in the margins of her notebook again, her pen gliding effortlessly. I steal a quick glance at her, my heart oddly racing.

The words are right there, teetering on the edge of my tongue: "Do you want to go to the homecoming game on Friday?" But they catch in my throat, refusing to come out.

I tap my pen against my notebook, pretending to focus on the lesson, but my mind’s a mess of overthinking. What if she thinks it’s weird? What if she says no? I chew the inside of my cheek, stealing another glance at her. She’s humming softly under her breath, completely unaware of the silent battle I’m waging beside her.

Finally, I muster a shaky breath. “Hey, Kazuha,” I start, my voice softer than I intended. She looks up, her eyes meeting mine, warm and curious.

“Yeah?” she says, smiling slightly.

I hesitate, gripping my pen tighter. “Uh, do you… um… want to—” My words falter, and I pretend to adjust the papers on my desk like that was what I meant to say all along. “—want to go watch the homecoming football game with me on Friday? You know, maybe school you could come to my place and we could get ready together? You’re the only person that I could have that would consider going with me.”

Kazuha’s pen halts mid-sketch, her eyes lifting slowly to meet mine. For a heartbeat, she just stares, as if processing whether she heard me correctly. The corners of her mouth twitch, not with amusement but genuine surprise.

“Wait what?” she finally blurts out, blinking rapidly. “You… want to go to the homecoming game? Like, the football game?”

I nod, feeling my face grow warm. “Yeah, I mean… if you’re free. Just thought it might be fun.”

Kazuha leans back in her chair, tapping the end of her pen against her chin, her expression a perfect blend of disbelief and delight. “Wow, okay. That’s… unexpected. You never want to do stuff like this.”

I shrug, trying to play it cool, though my heart’s thudding like a drum. “Yeah, well, maybe I wanted to switch it up for once.”

She grins, her surprise melting into something soft and genuine. “You know what? Sure. Let’s do it.”

A wave of relief washes over me, mingling with a spark of excitement I didn’t expect. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she says, nodding with a chuckle. “It’ll be fun. And honestly, I’m kind of flattered you asked.”

I smile, the weight of the question lifting off my shoulders. “Cool. Maybe we can hang out at my place before the game, figure out what to wear or whatever.”

“Sounds good,” Kazuha says, her grin wide and bright. She taps her notebook playfully. “Now look at you, pulling me into spontaneous plans. Who even are you?”

I laugh softly, my chest feeling lighter than it has in weeks. “I guess I’m full of surprises.”

That really wasn’t it though. I wanted to go to see Jungwon play, but I couldn’t actually tell her that.

——-

The week continues like normal, and it’s already Friday. I am anxious to get out of bed because I am scared about tonight. About going to my first school even since I’ve even started high school.

Message from: Jungwon

I hope to see you in the stands tonight ;)

??? Why is he texting me? I’ve only texted his number for things related to tutoring. I flash a quick smile as I put my phone back into my pocket, my cheeks a light tint of pink.

The rest of the school day unfolds with the usual lectures, note-taking, and the occasional group discussions that I only halfway participate in. My mind keeps drifting back to the text from Jungwon and the looming excitement of the game tonight. I find myself glancing at the clock more often than I care to admit, willing the hands to move faster.

By the time 6th period rolls around, I’m practically buzzing with anticipation. I slide into my seat next to Kazuha, the familiar squeak of the chair grounding me slightly. She looks up from her doodles, her eyes immediately narrowing in on my face.

“Okay, what’s up with you?” she asks, setting her pen down. “You’ve been weirdly fidgety all day.”

I chuckle, feeling my face warm. “I’m just… excited for the game tonight, I guess.”

Kazuha raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Excited? Now that’s a word I never thought I’d hear you use about a school event.”

Rolling my eyes, I nudge her playfully. “Well, it’s something different. Plus, I mean, it’ll be fun hanging out with you outside of school and not worrying about AP exams for a change.”

She grins, leaning closer. “You know, I’m starting to think this has less to do with AP burnout and more to do with a certain football player.”

I nearly choke on my own breath. “W-What? No! That’s ridiculous.”

Kazuha laughs, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. “Relax, I’m just teasing. But seriously, it’ll be fun. We’ll cheer obnoxiously loud, eat overpriced snacks, and maybe even pretend to understand the game.”

I snort, the tension easing slightly.

The rest of the class passes in a blur, my mind already jumping ahead to tonight. As the final bell rings, Kazuha and I gather our things, chatting about what we should wear.

——-

When we get to my house, we rummage through our closets, trying on different outfits and laughing at how dramatic we’re being. Eventually, we settle on something comfortable yet spirited in school colors, of course.

As we head out the door, my heart races with a mix of excitement and nerves. I’m not sure if it’s the game, the change of routine, or the possibility of seeing Jungwon on the field. Maybe it’s all of it. We take Kazuha’s car.

“I don’t know if I told you, but Jungwon was the one who wanted me to come to the game.” I mention on the drive there.

“What? No, you don’t mention it! Are you crazy? This is insane news.” Kazuha exclaimed, eyes widening as she turned her whole body towards me.

“Really? I could have sworn I said something about it.” I chuckled in response to her dramatic reaction.

“Didn’t mention it, not once. Because trust me, I would remember if my best friend was invited to a football game by her ‘rival’. Who even knows if y’all are rivals anymore? Y’all could have eloped and have a baby on the way at the point.” She exaggerates.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, you can 100% confidently believe that is not the case.” I let out a choked-up, airy laugh.

——-

We arrive at the football field. The school band is playing loudly as the stadium lights shine over the field. The crowd is getting loud as it is almost time for our team’s big entrance.

“Where do you want to sit?” Kazuha yells over the loud ruckus in the background. The stands are packed, and there are not many options for seating.

“I think I see an opening in the edge of the front row,” I say, directing my voice into her ear. We make our way through the crowd to get to our squished-together seats. We are seated right in front of the home team’s sideline.

The stadium lights glow down on the field, casting long shadows across the neatly painted white yard lines. The roar of the crowd swells as the announcer’s voice echoes through the speakers, hyping up the audience. I didn’t think it could get louder than it already was.

The marching band bursts into a triumphant tune, drums pounding in rhythm with the pounding of my heart. From the tunnel at the far end of the field, the football team charges out, breaking through a giant paper banner painted with bold, school-colored letters. The players sprint onto the field with a burst of energy, helmets gleaming under the floodlights.

My eyes scan the lineup, and that’s when I see him, Jungwon. He’s not just on the team; he’s in the starting lineup. The number on his jersey stands out against the dark fabric, and for a moment, I’m frozen. I had no idea he was a starter.

Kazuha nudges me, shouting over the cheers, “Is that Jungwon? He’s starting?!”

I nod, my mouth slightly open, unable to form words. He looks different out here. Focused, fierce, and completely in his element. I hate to admit that I found it attractive. The whistle blows, and the game begins.

The first few plays are fast and intense. Jungwon moves with quick precision, effortlessly dodging defenders, his agility making him stand out. His coordination is almost mesmerizing, and I find myself more invested in the game than I ever thought I’d be. Each touchdown, each tackle sends waves of excitement through the crowd.

Midway through the second quarter, after an impressive sprint that nearly led to a touchdown, Jungwon gets subbed out for a quick break. As he jogs off the field, his helmet tucked under his arm, he glances toward the stands.

Our eyes meet.

A lopsided grin spreads across his face, and then…he winks.

My heart does an unexpected flip. I blink, caught off guard, my face heating up. Kazuha catches the whole thing, of course.

“Oh my gosh,” she yells, laughing. “Did he just WINK at you?”

“Shut up,” I mutter, trying to focus on the game, but the warmth in my chest betrays me.

The game continues with fierce energy. The players clash with determination, the sound of pads hitting echoing above the crowd’s cheers. The band plays fight songs after big plays, and the cheerleaders lead chants that ripple through the stands. The night air feels electric with school spirit.

As the final quarter ticks down, our team scores the winning touchdown. The crowd erupts into deafening cheers, students jumping up and down, waving their hands in the air. I can’t help but get swept up in the excitement, shouting alongside Kazuha, my voice hoarse from cheering.

When the final whistle blows, signaling our victory, the players flood the field, celebrating with high-fives and hugs. I catch Jungwon glancing back at the stands once more, his eyes lingering just a little longer before he’s swept away by his teammates.

“Wow, that was actually more entertaining that I thought it was going to be” I admitted, still flustered about my interaction with Jungwon.

“Mhmm, are you sure that not because of a certain someone playing on the field?” she teased.

“Shut up”

——-

We are walking to Kazuha’s car in the jammed parking when we hear a faint voice in the distance. “Do you need a ride?” I look around to try and figure out where it was coming from. By the time I turned around again, Jungwon was walking towards us.

He looks at both of us and then just me, his eyes were mesmerizing, and his hair still wet from the sweat. “Do you need a ride?” he repeats.

I stop for a second and glance over at Kazuha. She gives me the ‘go ahead’ followed with a smirk. She slowly starts to walk away.

“Uhh…. yeah I guess..” I hesitate.

Jungwon's dark red Jeep glimmers faintly under the soft glow of the stadium lights, its sleek exterior a striking contrast to the bustling parking lot. I climb inside, immediately enveloped by the rich scent, a mix of clean leather, faint cologne, and something subtly sweet, maybe a lingering hint of vanilla. The interior is surprisingly nice: smooth leather seats, a tidy dashboard, and a faint hum from the radio playing softly in the background.

The hum of the tires against the road fills the comfortable silence before Jungwon breaks it.

"So… what did you think of the game?" he asks, glancing over with a quick smile, his hand relaxed on the steering wheel.

I chuckle, shaking my head slightly. "It was… better than I expected. You were pretty good out there, I have to admit"

He grins, his eyes crinkling slightly. "Glad you came. It was nice seeing you in the stands." His voice is light, but there's an undercurrent of sincerity that makes my heart skip just a little.

As we cruise down the quiet, dimly lit streets, the space between us feels charged with an unspoken tension. Our hands rest awkwardly close on the center console, fingers brushing occasionally with each turn of the car. Each accidental touch sends a jolt through me, and I catch him stealing quick glances, his lips twitching like he's fighting a smile.

Finally, without thinking too hard about it, my fingers inch closer until they lightly graze his. He hesitates for the briefest moment, then his hand slides over mine, lacing our fingers together. The warmth of his touch is comforting, grounding.

We don’t say anything about it. We don’t need to. The quiet hum of the Jeep, the soft music, and the steady rhythm of our joined hands say enough.

We pull up in front of my house. No porch light on. Pitch black outside beside his headlight gleaming over the road. “This is it, right?”

“Yes, thank you for the ride” I say before starting to grab my things. Before I am even able to undo our interlocking fingers, he pulls me closer by my hand and kisses me. Our fingers remain intertwined, the warmth of his touch still lingering as he gently pulls me closer. The suddenness of the kiss catches me completely off guard. My heart stumbles, racing with a mixture of surprise and something unspoken that’s been simmering between us.

I instinctively pull back, just enough to create a small space between us, my breath slightly uneven. My eyes find his in the dim glow of the dashboard lights, his gaze soft yet intense, searching mine for any hint of regret or hesitation. But there’s none, just the same bewildering mix of curiosity and something deeper reflecting back at me.

Neither of us speaks, words feeling unnecessary in the weight of the moment. His eyes flicker from mine to my lips and back again, his silent question hanging in the air. My heart pounds louder than the faint melody playing on the radio.

Without overthinking it, I close the space between us, leaning in with certainty. This time, the kiss is deeper, slower, filled with the unspoken emotions we’ve both been avoiding. His hand cups the side of my face gently, his thumb brushing over my cheek.

The world outside the car fades away, leaving just us, lost in the quiet intensity of the moment. Then my phone dings. It’s my Mom texting me.

“I should get going, thank you again for the ride” I say giving him one more peck before I get out of the car.

——-

I walked up to the front door, butterflies still in my stomach, I waved to Jungwon. I get inside and all I can think about is that damn kiss. I set my bag down next to the door and take my shoes off and go upstairs to lay down.

Message from: Jungwon

I can’t wait to see you tomorrow😘

Tomorrow? I completely forgot about the tutoring session booked for tomorrow. What am I gonna do? I have to sit in the same room with him while he talks about math equations with his gorgeous hair and unforgettable voice, his cute chuckles and his sweet scented cologne. I’ll have to fight the urge to kiss him… again. This is going to be a disaster.

The night stretched on, filled with the soft glow of my phone screen as Jungwon and I exchanged a flurry of cute texts. Each message made my cheeks warm with an involuntary blush, my heart skipping every time his name lit up. Our playful and sweet words were comforting, wrapping me in thoughts of him. Eventually, sleep claimed me, but even then, my dreams were painted with his easy smile and the memory of our kiss.

——-

Morning light filtered through my blinds, pulling me from a cozy slumber. I stretched lazily, my mind immediately drifting to Jungwon. A soft smile tugged at my lips as I rolled out of bed. It was Saturday, my favorite routine day. I went about my morning, brewing coffee, flipping through my study notes with half-hearted focus, and tidying up my room. However, the usual rhythm felt different, with excitement and anticipation.

When the clock hinted it was time to get ready for my tutoring session, I stood in front of my mirror longer than usual. I picked out my outfit with more care, opting for something effortlessly cute yet comfortable. A hint of gloss on my lips, a dash more mascara than usual, just enough to feel confident. My heart raced with a mix of nerves and excitement, the thought of seeing Jungwon again making my pulse quicken.

With one final glance in the mirror and a steadying breath, I grabbed my bag, ready to face the ‘disaster’ of sitting across from Jungwon. But deep down, I knew it was a disaster I couldn’t wait for.

——-

I get into my car and prepare for my trip to Jungwon’s house. Don’t over think it. Just go in like you would for any other tutoring session.

I repeat these words to myself, the souls of my thoughts overplaying the music in the car.

I pull into Jungwon’s driveway, the familiar sight of his dark red Jeep parked out front making my heart race faster than I’d like to admit. The nervous energy bubbling within me feels different this time, heavier, laced with anticipation. I take a few deep breaths, willing myself to focus. It’s just a tutoring session, like any other… right?

I step out of my car, smoothing down my clothes and adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder. Approaching the door, I can’t help but replay every moment from last night in my head, the game, the ride, the kiss. My heart pounds in rhythm with each step.

Before I even have the chance to knock, the door swings open. Jungwon stands there, leaning casually against the frame, his smile easy and disarming. But this time, there’s something different in his eyes—a warmth that wasn’t there before.

“Wow,” he breathes out softly, his gaze sweeping over me with unmistakable admiration. “You look… beautiful.”

The compliment catches me off guard, sending a warm flush creeping up my neck to my cheeks. I manage a small smile, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Thanks. Uh, you look good too,” I mumble, feeling shy under his gaze.

He chuckles softly, stepping aside to let me in. There’s a playful glint in his eyes that makes my heart flutter. I follow him inside, the familiar scent of his home wrapping around me like a cozy blanket. We climb the stairs to his room, and he pushes the door open with an exaggerated gesture.

I set my bag down on his bed, trying to shake off the lingering tension. He sits at his desk, motioning for me to join him. As we pull out our textbooks and notes, his knees brush against mine beneath the small desk, an innocent touch that sends a jolt straight to my heart.

We dive into derivatives, our usual dynamic slipping back into place. But this time, there’s something unspoken, I find it hard to focus entirely on the math with him sitting so close, his voice a soft, melodic distraction.

At one point, he leans over to correct a mistake in my notes, his hand brushing lightly against mine. He pauses, his fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary. Our eyes meet, and for a heartbeat, the calculus problems blur into the background, replaced by the quiet pull between us.

But then he clears his throat, pulling back slightly with a small, sheepish smile. “Focus,” he says softly, tapping my notebook with his pencil. “You’ve got this.”

The scent of his cologne mixed with the sight of his collarbones being exposed from the way he is positioned made my mind drift to things… other than calculus.

When he turned his head away from my notes, I found my self instantly turning his face towards me, locking eyes with him again. His brown, cat-like eyes were heavenly. His pupils dilated as his eyes trailed down to my lips, then eventually down to my barely exposed chest, complimented to the design on my shirt. His eyes trail back up to mine and he stutters “I-“

Before he could even mutter a fraction of a sentence, my lips crashed into his. His lips melted into the kiss and he started to move to my rhythm immediately.

The kiss deepened almost instantly, all the tension from the tutoring session melting away into something electric and consuming. His hands found their way to my waist, fingers pressing gently against the fabric of my shirt as he pulled me closer. The calculus notebook slipped forgotten to the floor as I shifted in my chair, our bodies naturally gravitating toward each other.

His lips were soft and warm, moving against mine with a tenderness that made my heart race. I could taste the faint sweetness of mint on his breath, feel the slight tremor in his hands as they traced along my sides. Every nerve ending seemed to come alive under his touch.

When we finally broke apart, both of us breathing heavily, his forehead rested against mine. His eyes were darker now, pupils dilated with something that made my stomach flutter with anticipation. The room felt smaller, the air charged with an energy that hadn’t been there during our study session.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all morning,” he whispered, his voice husky and low. His thumb brushed across my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear with such gentle care that it made my heart skip.

I could only manage a soft smile in response, still dizzy from the kiss. The way he was looking at me, like I was the only thing that mattered in the world, made me feel beautiful, desired, completely lost in the moment.

This time, the kiss was hungrier, more urgent. His hands slid up from my waist to cup my face, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on my cheekbones as our lips moved together. I could feel his heart beating rapidly against his chest where our bodies pressed closer.

Without breaking the kiss, he gently guided me up from my chair, his hands steady and reassuring on my waist. We moved together, until I felt the edge of his bed against the back of my legs. He pulled away just enough to look into my eyes, his gaze searching for any hesitation.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his hands still resting on my waist.

I nodded, unable to find words, my heart pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. He smiled that gentle smile that had become so familiar, then leaned down to kiss me again, this time slower, more deliberate.

His kisses started to trail down the side of my face, down my neck, leaving all of my sensitive spots with a gentle peck. He then went down to my collar bones and traced them with kisses down to my sternum.

“Can I take this off?” he whispers when he reached to top of my shirt. I give him a quick nod and hum of approval.

He begins to unbutton my shirt and leans back in for a kiss. Underneath the first few buttons reveals a jade colored lace bra that complimented my tits perfectly. He grabs one of them in his hand and squishes it a little before continuing to unbutton my shirt, eventually taking it off.

He brings his body closer between my thighs and I can feel his cock already fighting to break through his pants. He grabs both of my breasts and moves my bra out of the way, exposing my nipples.

“Mmmmm, such perfect tits” he says, bringing my nipples between his pointer finger and thumb. I let out a small gasp in reaction to the stimulation. He leans down, his breath hot against my skin as he takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. I arch into him, a soft moan escaping my lips. He alternates between the two, sucking and nibbling until they're both hard and aching. I can feel the heat building between my legs, my body throbbing with need.

His hands roam over my body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin. He unbuttons my jeans, sliding them down slowly, his fingers grazing my thighs. I lift my hips to help him, and he tugs them off, along with my panties, leaving me completely bare in front of him.

He stands back for a moment, his eyes dark with desire as he takes in the sight of me. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with want. He reaches out, tracing a finger along the inside of my thigh, making me shiver with anticipation.

I reach for him, pulling him down on top of me. Our bodies align perfectly, his hardness pressing against my softness. I can feel the heat of him,He kisses me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth as his hands roam over my body.

I reach down to his waist and lift his shirt up a bit. He lifts up his arms so I could slide off his shirt on one smooth motion. His abdomen was stunning. He wasn’t insanely muscular, but just enough to faintly see the outline of his abs. His shoulders were broad and his arms were toned and glimmered slightly from the sweat.

He reaches around my back to unhook my bra, slid it off from around my arms, and throws it to the side. “God, I’ve been waiting to see you like this.” he admits.

He kisses down my chest, to my stomach, then my waist and inner thighs. My soaked heat right in front of his mouth. He leans in closer, his breath hot against my sensitive flesh. I can feel the anticipation building, my body aching with need. He starts with gentle kisses on my inner thighs, teasing me, making me squirm. He slides his fingers between my folds, collecting my slick.

“Damn baby, you’re already so wet” he’s amazed at the sight of my bare pussy.

When his tongue finally makes contact, I gasp, my back arching off the bed. He takes his time, exploring every fold, every inch of me. His tongue is soft and warm, moving in slow, deliberate circles. I can feel the pleasure building, coiling tight in my belly.

He finds my clit, his tongue flicking over it lightly, sending jolts of electricity through my body. I moan, my hands gripping the sheets as he continues his torturously slow exploration. He slides two fingers inside me, curling them to hit that perfect spot. I cry out, my hips bucking against his hand.

He picks up the pace, his tongue and fingers moving in sync, driving me closer and closer to the edge. I can feel my orgasm building, my body tensing as the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear.

Just as I'm about to tip over the edge, he pulls back, his fingers still inside me, his thumb taking over the task of circling my clit. He looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Come for me," he whispers, his voice husky and low. "I want to feel you fall apart."

His words send me over the edge. I cry out, my body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me. He rides out my orgasm, his fingers and thumb never stopping their relentless assault on my senses.

As I come down from my high, he leans up, his lips finding mine in a deep, passionate kiss. I can taste myself on him, and it only serves to stoke the fires of my desire once more.

He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against mine. "You're so beautiful when you come," he murmurs, his voice filled with wonder and desire.

I smile, still breathless from my orgasm. "Your turn," I manage to gasp out, my hands reaching for his pants.

He chuckles, a low, sexy sound. I unbutton his pants and slide them down with his boxers. His cock sprang free with the tip leaking of precum. It’s a lot bigger than I expected. I don’t know how i’m going to fit this inside of my mouth, let alone my pussy.

I grab the base and guide the tip toward my lips, circling it with my tongue before attempting to suck it. I only manage to get about an inch or two in my mouth because of his girth. I lick up and down the base, stroking it with both of my hands.

“Yes baby, just like that” he groans, grabbing a fish full of my hair. He gently guides my head up and down, without force, as he feels the inside of my mouth.

He gets off of the bed and lays me on my back. He rests my legs on his shoulders and he slides his tip thought my wet folds. “Are you. ute you want to do this?” He asks

“Yes please, I want this more than anything” I cry out in desperation

He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, stretching me, filling me. I gasp, my nails digging into his back as he moves deeper and deeper. He starts to move, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm. I can feel every inch of him, every ridge, every vein.

He slowly bottoms out and stays still, making sure I get used to his size before he continues splitting me open like a watermelon.

He leans down, his lips finding mine in a deep, passionate kiss. Our tongues dance together as our bodies move as one. “You can move now” I whisper as we pull away from the kiss.

He begins to move, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm. I can feel every inch of him stretching me, filling me completely. The sensation is intense, almost overwhelming, but it's a pleasure I've never experienced before. I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him deeper, wanting to feel him as close as possible.

His movements become more urgent, but he maintains a deliberate pace, drawing out the pleasure. I can feel the sweat slicking our skin, our bodies sliding against each other with each thrust. The room fills with the sounds of our pleasure, the wet slapping of skin, the harshness of our breaths, and the soft moans escaping our lips.

He reaches down, his hand finding my clit, his fingers circling it in time with his thrusts. The dual sensations are almost too much, my body tensing as another orgasm builds deep within me. I can feel my inner muscles clenching around him, trying to draw him in deeper.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his voice strained with effort. "I want to make this last."

I can feel his cock swelling inside me, but he pulls back slightly, slowing his pace, drawing out the pleasure. "Don't hold back," I whisper, my voice breathless and pleading.

"Yess grip that dick" he grains breathlessly as i grip tighter from the overstimulation.

He leans down, capturing my lips in a fierce, demanding kiss as he continues to move, his hips rolling in a slow, steady rhythm. He reaches down, his fingers finding my clit again, circling it with a gentle, teasing touch. The sensation is intense, my body tensing as another orgasm builds deep within me.

He pulls back slightly, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate pace, drawing out the pleasure.

He leans down, his lips finding mine in a deep, passionate kiss. Our tongues dance together as our bodies move as one. "You can move faster now," I whisper as we pull away from the kiss.

He increases his pace, his hips moving in a faster desperate manner. I can feel his cock swelling inside me, his movements becoming more erratic. I meet his thrusts, my hips lifting to match his rhythm, urging him on. "Come with me," I whisper, my voice breathless and pleading. "I want to feel you come inside me."

His eyes meet mine, dark with desire and something more, something deeper. He leans down, capturing my lips in a fierce, demanding kiss as his body tenses. I can feel him pulsing inside me, his release triggering my own. I cry out into his mouth, my body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me.

He collapses on top of me, his body shaking with the force of his release. We lie there for a moment, our breaths coming in ragged gasps, our hearts pounding against each other. He rolls off me, pulling me into his arms, our bodies still slick with sweat and desire.

"Wow," he murmurs, his voice soft and content. "That was... incredible."

I smile, nestling closer to him, my head resting on his chest. "It really was," I agree, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin. "You were incredible."

He chuckles, a low, satisfied sound. "So were you. I've never felt anything like that before."

I prop myself up on one elbow, looking down at him. "Me neither. It was perfect."

He reaches up, cupping my face, his thumb brushing gently across my cheek. "You're perfect," he says, his voice filled with sincerity and something more, something that makes my heart skip a beat.

I lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "So are you," I whisper against his mouth.

We lie there for a while longer, our bodies entwined, our hearts beating in sync. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of us, lost in the afterglow of our passion. It's a moment of pure bliss, a connection that goes beyond the physical, a promise of something more.