my luv 4 u was bulletproof but u're the one who shot me ✃𓄧

Summer to you starts in August.

Sure, you'd run your last academic marathon at the end of June, with July spent shackle-free back home where you'd meet up with friends who aren't the same anymore after uni. You'd swelter in the sun, cause havoc in beer gardens and star gaze when the sun finally set after 10. It's the break you've been craving, the aches and pains of academia eased away by the leisure by the warm weather. But it wasn't summer.

Summer to you is the first week of August.

When your university friends and yourself would all pool into your deserted uni town, catching up and reminiscing the night before setting out on a seven hour long drive. First year is when all seven of you go, split between two cars, driving down south to the surfer's paradise of sandy beaches and a blue ocean stretching far beyond the eye. Boardmasters is the first festival you attend, your parents too rigid in fear to let you go beforehand because to them, the only purpose festivals served was for to do drugs.

You can't fault them really, because your first Boardmasters sees you drop your first pill, shapes and colours crossing your line of sight at a rave in the woods. It's an out-of-body experience, pupils blown wide and body brimming with unconditional love as your body moves slow and fluid, as if stuck in honey. Despite the lack of showers and kicked-up sand, it's one of your favourite weekends, long talked after you leave the festival on a cliff. Surrounded by your dearest girls, sticking together in the packed pit of festival goers, pumping your fists to dance and grime. Nothing quite bonds a group of people together like tripping balls, peeing in bushes when the portable toilets are too sickening to enter. 

When you're not nodding along to the music, you're swinging through the air of the select carnivals ride, trying not to throw up your breakfast of pains au chocolat and vodka orange juice. When you're not getting a tan on the white beach, you're jumbled together with avid surfers watching the festival's competition unfold, monstrous waves so close you're convinced they'll swallow you whole. And when you leave on Monday morning, sunburnt with sand in between your toes and a hoarse throat, you can't wait to do it again the next year.

So, you do. It becomes a tradition of sorts, the first time you see your university friends since leaving your belongings in your new residence of the upcoming year. The night before is just as good as the festival, all huddled in your new lounge showing off your new festival clothes, sharing jewellery and scourging around for a sleeping bag because Choerry always forgets hers. It's one of the few times your soul feels alive, every inch of it clinging onto the present moment to now, four years later from your first, standing amidst a sea of people, on the grassy grounds you've come to know and love. 

Early evening paints the sky in an indigo blue, bright full moon creeping into the sky. This year's different, a year removed from university, but you're trying to make it feel like every other time before. One of Friday night's headliners has got the crowd going, the easy-going atmosphere breathing space in between groups of people huddled around each other. It's the kind of let your hair down sensation your body's ached for, head tipped back as you try and sink into the feelings.

In a crowd full of moving bodies, the only sounds occupying the vast grasslands blare from the stage speakers, shaking with every heavy bass thump. It’s a good way to let go, losing yourself in the motions of the crowd high on house among other substances, inhibitions abandoned to the closed fall of your eyes, serenity your being. A necessary ritual, through the slump of everyday life boggled down by work responsibilities and other non-juggable things. A trip down South with friends sparkled in glitter, rustic clothes blowing in the wind as your arms circle each other, happiness so evident on your faces as your heads nod and worries dissipate.

It’s a time you wouldn’t trade for anything for, something precious in your life that comes with no regrets. 

In the swell of the crowd, warm stage lights project outwards, outlining the dancing silhouette of festival-goers. In the few occasions your eyes flutter open, you see your friends exchange words into the ears of guys next to your group, amusement curving your own lips. They’re good-looking, you note, grin widening as the taller one of the group hoists Choerry onto his shoulders, laughter pouring between your two groups.

If not for the tap on your shoulder, you would’ve missed him completely as his soft voice barely meets your ears. “Did you wanna have a go?”

You turn and the world sweeps into a montage, music slowed to reverb as you take his features in one by one. The kind brown circle of his eyes, the sheepish simper in his full lips, his wet fringe curling towards the open space of his forehead. He’s all lean muscles, shoulders like boulders in the grey cybersigilism vest he wears - sturdy enough to support you. However, it’s not his deep outline of his muscles or grunge fashion that grabs your attention, it’s the silver star grill stretched between his canine tooth and accompanying front tooth.

Out your peripheral, his head tilts, snapping you out your gaze. Like this, you can’t fight your fast blinks, not quite believing the sudden attraction rushing over you.

“Why not?” is your non-committal answer.

At your sides, his friends trade sneaky smirks and amused eyebrow raises, whispering in teasing tones. You thank the gods above for the invention of safety shorts, uneasy hands running over any possible creases in your outfit.

“You got a name?”

The divine mix of alcohol and ketamine always did something for your confidence, a good amount of inflation to your ego as your lips curve in a sneaky smirk.

Surprise reflects in the puzzlement of his face, a good-natured chuckle coming from him. “Excuse me?”

“I usually know someone’s name before I do something like this.”

“In case of emergencies?” he asks, grin lopsided.

“More so common decency,” you chuckle, biting back your grin as he lowers himself to the ground, eyes shining up at you. “But that’s a factor too.”

Anton is the singular thing you remember through your exchange, goosebumps peppering your skin despite its feverish temperature the moment his hands meet it. You blame the race of your pulse on the unpredictability of the situation, surprised yelp blending into the heavy beats blaring off the tree-sized speakers as you’re hoisted upwards, a whole new world on your horizon. Everything looks indescribably small from your view, the sea of dancing bodies like a wave on the shore, your worries smaller too. Anton stands his ground, sturdy despite his two-step, hands hooked around your calves for good measure. Butterflies infiltrate the gooey puddle of your stomach, the flight of their wings giving an impression of euphoria, a lighter feeling within you as you allow yourself to sink into this — the flash of warm lights, Anton’s warm hands and the promise of a good weekend, a great weekend even if you let it.

The cusp of greatness starts when that first beat drops, so distinctly vivid and recognisable in your ears as the lights switch to shades of blue and white. Frantic eyes scan for your friends, the same look in all your eyes as your hands come together with Yunjin, lyrics belted out from the depths of your chest. If not for the vibration against you, you would’ve missed Anton singing along, his friends with shades on, draping over each other with pointed fingers in the air. Not a second later, one of Anton’s friends beckons the rest of your friends over, a shared circle of giddy smiles and clumsy steps. It’s sickening sweet, how a single song brings everyone together, setting fire to your soul yelling I wish you that you were mine at the top of your lungs.

Your balance against Anton never wavers, in the face of your necessary minimized dance moves and the pump of his fist, studded bracelet catching against the flickering light show. The melody boils to a simmer, unoccupied by words and only sounds, the perfect opportunity for your eyes to meet as Anton peers up at you, bliss across your faces in a way that makes you the kind of giddy you haven't felt in a while.

He keeps you on his shoulders for two more songs, the last of your friends let down to your feet as the rest of the DJ set goes on. Introductions are made amid the madness, too many names for your fuzzy brain to keep up with but their good company sticks. Jokes, dance battles and a united sing-a-along make you fast friends, enough that when the set ends, Anton's friends look to your group for what's next.

“The rave in the woods,” Anton’s snapback-wearing, doe eyed friend starts. Your memory traces back in time, Sohee remembered as his name. “Were you guys gonna go too?”

Your friend look amongst each other, giggling like you share a secret. "Of course." 

The rave in the woods is a beloved event that without a fail, your friends attend every night. Once the last big acts call it a day, smaller events scatter around for late-night partyers, the rave in the woods one of them. The woodland where you dance into the early hours of the morning is expansive, offering a variety of DJs supplying grime, house and techno to get the crowd moving. 

As first year attenders, Yunjin states how vital the experience is, leading with Sungchan who lends an enthusiastic ear while the rest of you trail behind. Groups of your friends, groups of his, a mixture. Like you and Anton, naturally walking alongside each other as the night chill grazes your skin, a welcome break from the blistering sun. 

"The glitter stars look good on you," Anton breaks the silence, eyeing the mass glitter stars outlining your eye, in the ironic shape of one too. "It's really creative."

"Thank you. It took a stupid amount of time to do," your cowboy boot kicks at a stray rock, the main field's noise being left behind in search of another. 

"Pretty worth it if you ask me."

The woodland is densely populated, all tall scrawny pale trees reaching far beyond the strain of your neck. Low enough for the eye to behold, shiny disco balls hang off the high branches, the poor festival staff having to scale the trees for aesthetics. It does its job though, string lights of the rainbow cascading with flashes that make the space feel like it's been clipped right out of a movie. A smoke machine from various DJ decks blows around the area, cloudy figures moving like apparitions to the elevated eye. 

After you and your new group of friends make your way through the Christmas market-like entrance, dark blue swirly patterns projected onto the red sand floor, your girls split off for the portable toilets, a meeting point of a Tiki bar agreed upon. Since it's still early days, the portable toilets don't swim with waste, three to four of people squeezing into the tight space. Baggies get pulled out of socks and bum bag pockets, pills and grained ketamine their inside contents. 

"I can't believe I'm letting you use my car keys," Sullyoon moans, breaking her blue pill apart. "If the car doesn't start, you're pushing us back to mine."

"It's your fault for saying to leave my keys at yours," you argue, sniffing the substance with a groan. Kazuha does a shitty job at covering it up, coughing after the fact. "Yeah, thanks." 

"You didn't warn me beforehand!" she yelps, squeezing into one of the corners. "You and Jinsol dropping one?"

"Her name is Molly!" Jinsol giggles, handed over half of the pill from Sullyoon. "I've genuinely never felt anything better. I obviously wouldn't push you to do it, but it's great."

"Don't worry, my pink gin gets me high enough for the both of us," Kazuha replies, eyebrow raised to you. "Ready to go?"

One last sniff and a lip-balm swatch earns your go ahead sign, looks of amusement tossed between your girls.

"Must be getting ready for Ant—"

You push her out the door, a stumble of a short ledge her price. Back again outside, the smoke-filled air greets you, a lightheadedness devouring your brain as your group walks back to the agreed meeting spot. There, where Heejin and Choerry purchase drinks for themselves and Kazuha, Yunjin floats over to you. A helpless snicker slips out, your hands cupping her face as your thumb pad swipes a few visible crushed grains on the tip of her nose, her heavy blush only strengthened by her natural one.

Because you can't help but tease, you yank her down her camo cap, her shriek meeting your ears. "What you think? This batch's pretty good, yeah?"

"It's strong, I've only had to do a fingernail after almost k-holing to Wish You Were Mine," she explains, readjusting her cap. "Good song, though."

"The best song, I-" a tap on the shoulder makes your words evaporate, head turning with a sliver of Yunjin's smiling face catching your eyes. "Anton," 

A mellowness lazily tugs at the corners of his lips, his head slightly tilted. "Sorry to keep you waiting. How about I get you an apology drink?"

"Yeah, you took longer than the girls," Yunjin interjects.

Heejin comes up beside her, sipping on her over-priced cocktail. "They were probably sword-fighting in there."

Anton immediately flushes, hands out in alarm. "We were not—"

His platinum blonde haired friend drops onto his shoulders, an arm slung around him with the kind of grin that only speaks of trouble. "He's just shy because he always wins. I mean, how could he not with—"

Anton damn nears folds his neck in half, a sharp look of mortification and warning in his eyes. His friend, who you remember now as Shotaro puffs out a shaky chuckle, patting Anton's chest to slow tempo. "I lied, actually. We were making out. Gotta kiss the homies goodnight, you know?"

Out of nowhere, a head of pink hair — Wonbin — jumps in, pressing a cheek kiss to Shotaro who flinches into himself, buried further when Anton does the same on the other cheek. In a feigned nonchalance, he ignores the unfolding scene of boyish fights and directs you over to the queue, hand curled on your elbow. The mere touch is enough to shoot electricity up your back, correcting the hunched posture. 

"I'm good without one," is your gentle decline, every sense of yours heightened. You need to go, expel all your fizzing energy now. "Let's go dance."

Your head turns to the rest of the group, ears flooded with excited shrieks and bumping music. Your foot taps along, body swaying soon after. "You coming?"

"Course," Heejin answers, head turning to the slithering sight beside her. 

Sohee slides closer, doing footwork similar to a moonwalk with the wave of his body, ending on the tips of his creased sneakers. Must do this often. "Gotta show everyone who's king."

He shows off a snaggletooth smile, so pure with the flex of his biceps, only for his face to fall when his cap is snatched. His deep pink hair is a frizzy mess underneath, sight unseen three seconds afterwards as he chases after the thief, a manically laughing Sungchan.

Your attention shifts back to Anton, who's in the middle of the world's great facepalm, echoed by the collective chaos of your groups mashed together. The dopamine-inducing sight reflects happiness back on your face, body still moving to the oontz oontz music and ultimately getting carried towards it.

Footsteps follow you close by, a stamped of others following close behind. Ignoring the clumpy sounds of grime, your body shimmies over to the packed crowd of dancing bodies, shoulders sunburnt with glow in the dark face paint on. Deep house moves their bodies, heads hitting every bass beat and you follow along, music travelling through you. 

The mob roars to life as the familiar lyrics of The Less I Know The Better come through, speakers blasting the remix of drum snares and heavy bassline. Expressions pull to show their satisfaction, pumping their fists harder with a mean two-step. Head in the clouds, energy bursts through you, your image a mere afterthought as your body moves on its own accord, appreciative yells coming from your group. You soak it in with a grin, the flutter of your eyes capturing the amazement mapped out on Anton's light-drenched face.

Songs go on, the DJ becoming a fan favourite as she remixes crowd pleasers with expertise, bumping along with her excited friends who hop and yell to every beat. Your mind can only hang onto fragments of everything, every blink a snapshot, but it's a movie each time, body bouncing around while you dance with friends. At one point, your fingers thread into Anton's, coaxing him with the words, "Shake your body up and down, let the rhythm take control." It's far better than the multiple take it off lyrics that come and go, but in hindsight, perhaps it could've gone without saying. After all, you thought you'd made it pretty apparent that you liked him.

Eventually, after one too many bathroom trips and songs, your body overheats to an uncomfortable degree, yelling to excuse yourself into Choerry's ear. Eclipsed in hues of orange and pink, she yells she'll go with you. Assuring her you'll be ok, you hear her yell out to text if anything goes amiss as you're shouldering through the crowd, coming out a bit bruised but happy enough to not mind.

Familiarity presents no hesitation in your movements as you wonder off into the woods for a breather, eyes floating between the Island-themed bars run out of caravans and dehydrated festival goers who plot down into any beach chairs available. Perhaps venturing alone into the woods should make you the kind of uneasy that has your eyes bouncing to every possible threat. However, with how large and busy the festival is, even places where the lights are reduced to mere specks, there's always someone loitering around: drunk girls proclaiming their forever-lasting friendship, a couple kissing against a tree, friends huddled with a suspicious chorus of sniffs. It's a bit of a mess; a mess you wouldn't have any other way. 

It's only when you've put some distance between the rave and yourself, you hear the call of your name.

"Wait!"

Your ears can't quite believe themselves, a slow turn unveiling your far-fetched guess.

"You didn't have to follow me out," breathlessness hints at your words, a rise and fall of your chest with each step you take. "I would've been fine."

"I needed the breather too," Anton reasons, only his thumbs visible as his hands slip into his front pockets. "Plus, I know better than leaving someone alone the woods."

The woods, as you amble further into, is hauntingly beautiful, unkept and largely left to its natural beauty. The trees are more dense here, branches folding over each other, trunks thicker, less vandalised. The party is distant, the ketamine having worn off and for the first time in repeated thirty minute intervals, you feel yourself relax, back inclined to lean against the tree behind you.

"I don't think the Big Bad Wolf is much of a raver," you laugh, crossed hands against the bark you press into. "He's busy terrorising others in red." 

"That's a shame, he'd really blow the roof off the place," Anton says in front of you, a stark silence settling in the aftermath of his words. "Sorry, that was so bad. Don't even— "

"I was wondering when you'd slip up," you can't help but snicker. "No one can be that smooth." 

His eyebrow raises curiously. 

“You’re making me nervous again,” his words carry over, only loud enough for the trees and you to hear. 

"I didn't know you were..." you trail, eyes looking left and right, unsure. “Why?”

A humourless laugh escapes him, a hand brushed over his lips to wipe the smile away. “You’re really gonna make me say it?”

You choose silence, pinching your lips together before something clever obliterates whatever following words Anton mulls over. A knit in his eyebrows with a gaze cast to the ground your only tell. It’s informative enough, but you don’t want to get your hopes up.

“Well,” his hand inches closer across the bark, a gulp travelling down your dry throat. “Well, let's just say it's not every day I get to hoist the prettiest girl on my shoulders." 

Floored is how best you can describe how you feel, stapled to the tree your rigid body doesn't dare moving against. The only thing that moves in concern with you is the heavy pump of your heart.

"There's 50,000 people here…" 

"My statement still stands," he answers, not budging. The silence between you is stifling. "Do with that information what you will. I just figured I'd let you know."

Dead leaves crunch under his mud-scuffed hiking boots, body turned as if to walk away. 

"Wait!" you call out, eyes wide like you've seen a ghost. Your chest labours, hand outstretched to Anton whose figure halos with the dulled lights of the faraway rave. "You can't just say that and leave."

His head tilts, arms crossed. Muscles flexing. "I wanted to give you space."

He knows what he's doing. He must, because why else would that easy smile be on his face for if not knowing your next words?

A moment's hesitation almost doesn't allow them to fall. Then, your mind remembers being at the top of the world on his shoulders, how sturdy and safe you'd felt atop them. His warm hands you reached out for on the dance floor, how his eyes could never leave yours even when yours closed. How the current between you is so different to anything you've experienced before, humming just beneath the surface. 

"What if I didn't want any?" are your whispered words, head ducked like there's shame in letting things be known. "You…you, come here and fix this."

Anton comes back immediately, stopping not even an inch in front of you. You catch pine notes and the sea breeze from his skin, radiating a warmth the night chill propels your body towards. 

"Fix what?" he whispers back, head tilted like he'll lean in. You really want him to. "Say the word,"

"Please," your hand grasps onto the front of his vest, desperate more than aggressive. "Just once."

He hums, considering your words. It kills a little part inside of you. 

"You're cute," he says against your lips, a gentle brush. "I'll bite."

Something entirely new happens to you when your lips meet, a gasp muffled against his mouth as you fall apart. Against the rough bark of the tree, your body melts like molten lava, helped only by the loose fumble of your hands against his cheeks, firm hands on your hips. His lips are soft, pursuing you with a gentleness you chase after, arms circling him as your need to be close grows. He groans into your mouth, a soft gasp your response as he presses you further into the tree. When you're through, your body will adorn the marks of his passion, a dull sensation to your back while your world never remains the same again.

"Fuck," his breath fans over your lips, not baring to part from you. "You sound so sweet. Wonder where else you're sweet."

You whimper into him, body running hot as you feel the slide of his smile on your lips. He's holding you like you're something precious, cheeks cupped with the utmost of delicacy and the want just pours out of you, raving your body that desires nothing more to be closer to him. For him to touch you everywhere, to kiss you everywhere too.

"That's it, take my hand where you want it."

Your breath gets caught somewhere in your throat, a blaze set to your skin as your hand tremors over his — knowing where it should go, but not having the gall to follow through. Attuned to your hesitancy, his hand inches by the millimetre down your torso, shiver left in his wake. Eager fingers slot between his for a second, a grasp to take control as you move down until you leave his palm against the safety shorts under your dress.

"You're warm through your shorts. Is that all for me?" He has the audacity to say, smiling to the whine you do. "It's okay, go ahead. You need it, don't you?"

Of course you do. So bad your mind's thrown of rationality in pursuit of the pleasure he may give you. He slots a flexed thigh between your leg, offering a sturdy surface as your hips give out experimental rolls. With so many layers pinched together, the friction generated makes you shiver with a shaky moan, lips trembling away from his. He chases after you, teasing nibbles on your bottom lip done to ruin you, so starved for him your hips rut with every last inch of your need. 

A wolf whistle pierces through the night, commending cheers too boyish for your liking following the aftermath. Brought back to reality, your body can only freeze in terror as a group of shirtless guys in reflective sunglasses clap their hands for Anton, teasing raises of their eyebrows from two-tree rows away.

"Oh my god," you part, an immediate side-step behind the very same tree you'd been caught doing…that on. 

When the obnoxious men are out of ear shot, dead leaves crunch as Anton shuffles closer, his tongue grazing where your lips last were. If you weren't ablaze in embarrassment, you'd probably climb him like a tree. 

"I got a bit carried away there," he huffs, finger pulling at the neckline of his vest. There's minimal visibility here, but enough to catch the heat radiating off him and its accompanied flush. He even has a stray star from your cheek. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just— " your hand swap at the side of your face not plastered with stars, the knot in your stomach still ongoing. "Maybe we should head somewhere more private?"

The suggestion appears to surprise him, eyes flaring with it as his head jerks back a bit. A moment blankets the two of you, his hand raised to run over his throat, consideration heavy in the air. 

"You want to?" he asks instead. 

Your answer is close to immediate. 

"Yeah." 

He pauses, allowing for a beat where you change your mind, examine your options, consolidate an out.

It never comes.

"Okay. Did you want to tell your friends you're going? Or did you want my driver's license?" he's already sifting through his back pocket for the sleek leather, flipping it open. "That way, they have my details."

A safety precaution. 

One you hadn't really considered. It wasn't often you went off with someone at a festival, the extent being making out with a random during Loyle Carner's set. Rookie mistake, not because your friends clowned you for the rest of the night, but because you'd ruined your chances with Carner who could apparently see you in the middle of the crowd. 

However, as you stand before Anton, whose lips are plump with your kisses and moles on his face good enough to bite, you take your chances. Forgoing travelling back to the rave where your friends are and shooting a quick text, the last of your battery used to send his drivers license where he looks offensively good in. Once sent, your brain catches up to the rabbiting in your chest, clustered rave music jumbled in your ears as you look at him with hopeful eyes, the same reflected back at you. 

"Should we get going?"

The walk to your tent is relatively quiet, the festival making up in non-syllable form. Fingers intertwined, you wonder if he can feel it — the thump of your pulse under his palm, the clamminess of yours. He's the one whose said his sweet confession and yet here you are, shaking like a leaf. When the idea of his attractiveness crossed your mind, no amount of foresight could've brought you here. It's always in passing, acknowledging handsome guys to your friends with nothing done of the matter. Rejection is the overarching reason, but it didn't apply now. Not in the slightest, his desire to be with you overriding the decency of having you behind closed doors. 

Before you get the chance to gulp, your boots thump to a halt, seven-man tent in plain view. It's the first night but the campsite is already chaos — pitched tents, more camp chairs than people while more trash and crushed beer cans litter the patchy greens. Ain't nothing like home.

Through the mess of your bumbag, you somehow manage to find the keys to the tent, shaky hands jiggling the lock. Once both through, you lock back up before standing to your feet, showcasing the common room/Sullyoon's & Jinsol's room. Shades of pastel pink and mint green cascade from the walls of the tent, stray pillows to match. Makeup brushes astray with a trunk stashed with the alcohol you snuck in, the permitted amount perched on the top. 

"I think this room is the size of our entire tent," he marvels, hunched over with wondering eyes. If he's nervous, you can't tell. "Sohee, Taro and I will probably end up sharing a bed — not that Sohee minds."

Then, your eyes catch, knowing smirks volleyed. It undoes the bundled nerves in your stomach, if only by a few centimetres. 

"Sounds better than my set-up," your voice trails, eyes finding his. "Did you wanna see…?"

His eyes flare, a sinking pit plummeting down your belly. "Yes, please."

Your section of the tent isn't glamorous by any means, yourself and Yunjin having packed so much that you had to settle for sleeping bags, waterproof shells of a bed stationed next to each other. Atop yours, your legs cross, Anton's long limbs stretched instead, but he's close. Close enough for a hint of cinnamon and sea salt to hit your nose, the warm spice of his cologne elevating the summer heat inside the suddenly small tent. 

Idle conversation is made: sets you're hoping to catch over the weekend, activities you're waiting to do. There's a lot of crossover, like how you'd both like to go to the mini carnival on the last day, listen to Kings of Leon's set while soaring through the pink sunset sky. 

"I couldn't imagine being anywhere better." he says, fingers fiddling with the hem of your dress. 

He doesn't say the obvious out loud —  with you, but you hear it all the same. React the same too, breaths deepening as your hand inches up to hover his, chocolate brown eyes reflecting up to yours. 

"Me being here doesn't have any implications," he states, a gentleness to his features. There's minimal light in the tent, save for the soft peach orange omitted from Yunjin battery-powered light. He's stunning in it, as he is in others. "We do whatever you're comfortable with." 

"I know, I just— " you huff, searching for the words, the composure. Since when did he have this power over you? "I never know how to…"

Initiate, take the leap of faith.

You'd hit the ground one too many times doing so.

"It's okay," your hand falls from over his, warm presence to your cheek with his thumb's caress. It's comforting, enough to lean into. "I'm here."

I'll guide you. 

The whisper, though never uttered, ripples a chill down your spine, foreheads coming together. Moments pass, close in the intimacy of observation, some shadows cast but your eyes and lips readily in view. This near, you see the mole just beside his nose, like a far dropped tear. His eyelashes do a gradual flutter, pink dusted over the height of his cheekbones. Then you hear it. 

Faint, but unmistakable — the thud of his pulse. Your hand searches for it, fingertips ghosting over thin skin, the pump of his heartbeat fast, contesting with yours. 

You can't help but chuckle, him following along in the bit of sheepishness you wish you could sink your teeth into. So, you do, head angled up to connect your lips again. Somehow, it's better than the first, the butterflies swarming all around you in a delicate dance, body lurching for his. His hand sneaks to the back of your head, pressing you against him, noses folded over each other. You can't get enough, dull burn so good you're moaning into his mouth while his tongue glides over your pried lips. You part further, because you want more too, like everything him pressing you into the tree promised. 

Moving on its own accord, your body folds towards him, a gentle push back as his hands desert your body to support himself, top half shadowing yours. Naturally, your body falls backwards, lowered slowly with your lumpy pillow acting a cushion. Anton kisses you throughout, plump lips the pillow you wished your head would lay upon, drunk off the taste of grape Soju and peppermint. His body brackets yours, arms holding himself up as the rest of him shifts between your legs. You've never hated the shorts beneath your dress more, clothes sticking to blotches of skin. 

Like he said, Anton's here. Hands doing a slow ascent up the flesh of your thighs, he gives you every opportunity to say no — it never comes. Consent echoes in the strained whines hanging in the back of your throat, rough fingertips grazing the waistband of your shorts, smiling at the quiver of skin. 

No time's waisted as he pulls them off you, tossed away somewhere as your legs cross over his back. It's a crutch you fully lean into, need growing by the tenfold as your slick-lined gusset brushes over the bulge in his jeans, back straightening to the feel. He feels…like a lot, desperation unleashing the moans blending into the quiet lock of your lips. A dampened grunt, deep from his chest, sounds when your hips show the extent of your desperation, core grinding hopelessly against him. 

"Shit," he mutters into you. "Hang on, lemme…"

It's the first time your lips truly part since settling atop the sleeping bag, swishing against his movement while his tongue licks away stringed-saliva connecting you two. Further away, he lowers himself, your body hoisting itself onto propped elbows as you beg the question:

"What are you—"

Perfectly slotted between your legs, he peers up at you, pupils fully blown, hands hanging off the hem of your underwear. "Oh,"

Your hand reaches over to his, sheepishness creasing your expression. "You don't have to."

His hand eclipses yours, a firm sincerity in his umber eyes. "I want to."

The only response you manage is a gulp, heat blossoming across your cheeks. All you can do is relax back against your arms, willing yourself not to sound as desperate as you feel while he trails slow kisses down your navel. It's almost trance-like, watching him worship your body, decorating in adoring caresses and chaste kisses, drenching your slick-lined underwear as he picks skin on your inner thigh, gentle love bruises left to remember him by. Hands once fidgeting at your sides curl into his head of waves, teeth sunken into the plump of your lip to conceal your whimpers. A poor job as evidenced by his reserved chuckles, vibration against your skin leading right where you need him — close, but not enough. Hovering, instead of descending where needed.

"Anton," his name comes out in a whine, your expression creased. Drum and bass is alive and well beyond the secrecy of your tent. All you hear is an incessant heartbeat. "We don't have much time. Please."

He pauses high up against your knee, a lasting peck left before he leans his head to your spread thighs, hair tickling your kneecap. "You need me?"

An electric current shoots down your back, brightening your eyes. "I-"

"It's okay, sweet girl," his words hang in the stiff air, kissing a trail from your mid-thigh while you buckle beneath him. He blinks back, seeing right through you. "You're pretty when you can't hide it."

A flush blooms across your sizzling skin, a helplessness to your own desires as features curve into a plead. "Anton, please. I need you — fingers, mouth, anything. Just—"

Words die on your tongue, coming out in a choppy rushed pants as his veined hands pull back your underwear, a string of slick sticking to the wet gusset. The hunger in his eyes intensifies, soiled underwear tossed over his shoulder, forgotten for the sight between your thighs. The fan of his breath enough to make you clench.

"Wanted to do this all night," he muses, a pillowy kiss to your clit. It's a minor action, almost missable, but with a body attuned to his every move, you crumble. He kisses you again just to watch you shudder, only chuckling as he envelopes your clit and folds in a slow, melting kiss. 

It's stupidly good, the feeling of his mouth on you as he kisses you like he did in the forest, slow and dizzying. Moving languidly as if to memorise your taste at every angle. Warm pleasure blooms within, coursing through your bloodstream, fingers weaving through his hair.

When you relax into the slow-mouthed kisses, he surprises you with the swirl of his tongue, broad and all over your clit. A high whine slips through, prolonged to a deep moan as Anton licks up from your weeping hole to your clit again, humming into the flesh. 

Fingers tug automatically, hair released in afterthought. 

“It’s okay,” he chuckles, voice octaves lower. “You can grab my hair. I like it.”

Such innocent words come together, yet paint the opposite. Images quickly shuffle through your hazed-mind, legs wrapped around his middle like a bow as he thrusts up into you, moans and gasps filling the tent. The muscles in his back flexed, beaded sweat a sheen to flushed skin your tongue brushes over, insatiable. He's a bit breathless, as you are, whining low in his throat in a way your ears will remember and burn with. It's so good, it hurts the more you—

"Here?"

Your back bends off the sleeping bag's surface, head lolled back. 

"Is this where you're weak?" he rasps, finger curled to nudge deep inside you, hitting your sweet spot. 

If not for how good you feel right now, you'd be ashamed of how loud you're moaning. 

"Fuck, you sound so good," he grunts, head shaking as he laps at your clit."Want a finger? Why don't you ask me for another?"

Teeth gnaw into the plush of your lip, anticipation rigging your breath ragged as you pant. You're so high off the simple curl of his finger your brain struggles catching up to his words.

"Hm? Want me to finger fuck you?"

That catches your attention, stomach pulling taut. You're nodding, not trusting your voice even if your confirmation still comes out in a breathy, "yes." 

"I didn't take you as greedy," his voice haunts the halls of your mind. Distant yet alluring, evoking an endless desire. "It's okay, I'll give you what you want. I'll keep you satisfied."

Another finger slips in, just as easy as the first. An unmistakable squelch reverberates through the flimsy walls of the camping tent, hitting your ears again and again as Anton keeps hitting that spot in you, drowning you further in a pool of ecstasy. 

"More," he prompts, voice a whisper. "I wanna hear you more. Do it for me."

You don't mean to, your body just complies. No memory serves comparable to what you're experiencing now, pleasure threshold surpassed as your body floats, carried on the cloud of his hands and mouth.

"You're close, aren't you? You're shaking." There's a lick of condescend behind his words, building you up to your demise. "It's okay, we're not finished here. You can come."

The coil snaps, body coming undone. White streaks before your eyes, head flying back as your hands keep his head between your legs, crashing and burning. Hearing nothing but your own screech, you miss the clear liquid drenching Anton's face, making a small pool atop the waterproof sleeping bag. The man between your legs can't quite believe it, huffed disbelief fanning over your cunt as his fingers work you through the release, kitten licks to your clit eventually bucked off due to overstimulation. 

"So sensitive," he remarks after you regain hearing again, body like jelly. "Look at the mess you made with just my fingers and mouth. Imagine what my cock would do…"

Through batted eyelashes, you peer over at him, limbs buzzing. In the shadows of the tent, his lower face shines with your slick, an almost black to his eyes. At least he has the decency to blush so you're not alone, pinkish hue buried beneath his cheek as his hands go for his belt. 

The metal clink of his belt buckle echoes, louder than the rave music a short distance away. With parted legs, Anton's eyes would have watched your cunt clench down on nothing but the image of his cock. Except your eyes are trained on each other, layers of clothing peeled back to reveal who you two really are. 

You couldn't pry yourself from him if you tried. Not when—

A sudden blare of a Fontaines DC song slices through the tent, Anton the first to look away as his jaw ticks with simmered annoyance. It quickly unwinds when he sees the caller ID, phone screen illuminating his face as he takes the call. 

"What's up?" 

An deep exhale lets out of your strained lungs, arms tired from being propped. Gently, your head falls to your beloved festival pillow, lumpy from being packed all kinds of wrong ways. Staring up at the ceiling provides you the chance to piece thoughts together. Everything happened so fast, straggling away from your crowd, smitten words, body pushed up against the bark, held hands on the way to your tent — this. You don't have any words for it because frankly, you've never felt this way before. So at the mercy of someone, someone who learns your tells and shows them to you before you can catch wind. It spins you off your axis, discombobulating what you know as the truth, all with his mouth and fingers.

You're so fucking screwed.

"Hey," his voice calls, a gentle guide back to him. He's got his chin dipped to his chest, a wince to his face. "The guys are with Eunseok at the med-tent, apparently he's in a bit of a k-hole," 

You scramble to sit up, pushing your bunched up dress down over your legs. "Oh my god, is he okay?"

"Probably. This happens often — believe it or not. The last time, he thought the pillar in the club was talking to him," his hand ruffles through his hair, a chuckle coming out that doesn't seem all that amused. Slack at his sides, his arms fall, hands securing his belt back in place. 

Somehow, the sombre silence compels you to jest. "I can't laugh because the one time I came close to one, I skid the skin off my knees running to the girls,"

His veined hands circles around your calf, ghosting the material upto the faded dark patches over your knees. "You're silly. And need to take better care of yourself."

"I was meeting new people that night — overcompensated with all the mixing," you laugh, sound coming out more breathy than intended, Anton's thumb grazing over the skin. His head of hair dips, a sweet kiss inflicting the rise of immediate goosebumps, something like cockiness leftover in his smile. 

"I'm sorry we can't continue," he whispers, slopes of his face emphasized in minimal light. Your heartbeat still prevails over the noise of the festival, house music nothing but a background murmur. "I really, really wanted to," 

Your gaze drops, his erection tucked away, but still very evidently there. 

Dryness coats your throat, cleared in an effort to speak. "Me too."

"The guys and I are gonna be at the beach tomorrow," he suggests, caressing. Always caressing. His eyelashes flutter when he looks through them, at you."I was hoping you could make it there?"

The smirk paints itself, a teasing eyebrow raised. "If you wanted to see me in a bikini so bad, you should've said so."

"I'd rather see you in nothing at all," a force pulls at your legs, his strength pulling you to crash land on his lips. Huffed against you, his need cycles between you two, restraint wavering in a shuddered breath. "Let me go…before I don't go at all."

On your feet, your backs are bent to hunch-walk through the low-ceiling tent, zipped out and back into the wilderness of festival life. Humidity clings to your skin, along with kicked up dust and spotty drizzle. Cheers from the makeshift amusement rides hover close by, lights shining into the sky like a signal. They're no match for the stars, devastatingly bright and reflected back in Anton's eyes as his attention falls to only you.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" his thumb glosses over your knuckles, not quite letting you go.

"Tomorrow." you confirm, a steady nod double proof. 

A lone lip corner picks up at it, teeth indents made into his bottom lip as he dares to pull away, his touch with you until the top of your fingertips. Then, he starts to disappear, parts of his body disappearing past the mass of camping tents. Your body borders on cold, the welcome breeze turning arctic cold. Teeth chatter call for rubbing hands across your upper arms, watching as he walks to his right, towards the med tent. 

Eyes not having left yours, h mouths something like go inside, but you shoo him away, watching each other until neither is visible. Other festival goers come and go, some having DMCs outside their tent while others snog in them. None of them concern you.

Out of the 50,000 attendees, your mind only lingers on one. 

Him and his promise of the beach come tomorrow.

At the beach is a welcome break away from the festival. According to earlier forged traditions, before you'd even check out the festival's stalls or hunt for a dealer, you'd have an afternoon dip in the ocean. Surrounded by moss-covered boulder rocks, the beach is the perfect picture of serene. Vast deep blue, waves outlined in calming porcelain with buttermilk sand serving as its barrier. You'd yell and scream, splashing each other in clothes you'd leave outside your tent to dry, hoping they'd still be there after early-morning venturing raves.

You hadn't fulfilled your tradition this year, the growing attraction to your beloved getaway causing nightmare queues driving into the festival. Some people even walked, lawn chairs and tents slugged under their arms with bucket hats of every colour imaginable on their heads. By the time you'd reached the grounds, midnight blue blanketed the sky and Sullyoon's foot hurt too much from clutch use in start-and-stop traffic. Most of your seven member group hangs back before checking out any last-minute sets, yourself and Kazuha wandering off to the lookout cliff, few friends and coupled straggled around the view overlook the dark ocean. 

"I'm glad we're doing this," you find yourself saying, arms crossed over knees pressed to your chest. "A lot's changed, but at least this hasn't."

"I am too," she muses with an easy smile. "It's been a…weird year. I don't think I was expecting. it."

Graduating university, finding your feet in the adult world, living miles apart from each other. You'd spent so much time with each other leading up to graduation and over the summer that meetups seemed like they'd never end. Like seeing each other every week was a law of the universe. However, as the seasons changed, life makes the unexpected demand for you to be apart, busied by other aspects that require all your attention. You met up when you could, but sometimes that wasn't enough. Heck, you hadn't seen Yunjin in a year before this. 

The wind whistles past your ears, blowing at your hair. 

"Yeah," your agreement is hard to hear, softened by longing. "Me neither."

Out your peripheral, Kazuha turns to you, shoulder nudging into the hand picking at grass. "We've still got this weekend and each other after that. Lots of time to make memories too."

A smile does a slow glide across your face. "Like you getting shouted at in the med tent?"

"I was trying to cheer Jinsol up!" she argues, laughing. "She was scared half to death."

"Yeah, that's what happens when you have a bad trip," you face palm, laughing too. "You either be a good friend and sit still or you get out my tent." 

"Then we all got kicked out," Kazuha folds into you, head on your shoulder. "That pill was really good."

"Yeah, you were more pupil than eyes," your head leans against hers. "I can't wait for the rave in the woods."

I can't wait to make make more memories with you.

"Me too."

After last night's events, the girls are all teasing smirks and quick-raised eyebrows, not asking questions but pretty damn close to it. Even if you don't volunteer information, they know you left with him, see the soft bruising he left on your chest. In the shape of a heart nonetheless. High school or uni didn't offer the enjoyed hell of having a hickey, so it's a bit new. Pressing into the bruising, covering it with concealer, knowing it'll wash off in the ocean. 

On your way there, the chill of the mid-morning tingles numbness into your fingers, you lingering behind your five, side by side with Heejin. 

"I could do with a full breakfast after this," she mentions, squinting at the brightness of the clouded sun. "Turns out not being deathly hungover actually diminishes your appetite." 

"Who would've though," you play along, some sand getting in between your toes. You're coming up to the flight of stairs leading to the beach, sea breeze fierce enough for squeals. "To be fair, that was our first year here and we got carried away with sneaking in alcohol." 

"Those portable charger flasks were our best purchase of the year."

"We got lucky they didn't check all our water packs."

"God bless Yunjin's flirting skills."

"And my VS push-up bra!" she yells ahead, laughter rippling through your group.

Shaking her head, Heejin braces a hand on the rusted metal railing, careful steps onto slanted concrete. "Speaking of bras…."

"Here we go."

A playful shove jostles you towards the opposite railing. "What? Was the tall drink of a man a bust?"

The opposite, actually. "Nah, not even close."

"Oh?"

"But we got interrupted," you sigh, growing beach population dotted amidst the sand. "He said he'd be at the beach today."

"You kept that quiet," she jokes, stepping off the last step. "Well, the beach is pretty big. You'd be lucky if— "

"There they are!" 

Not far from where your group clutters around the bottom of the staircase, Anton's friends occupy a spread of the beach, surfboards, tie-dye towels and a sandcastle amongst their many possessions. Some adorn surf vests while others tan shirtless, ocean's droplets trailing their skin. Unfortunately for you, Anton belongs to the latter, in the middle of taking off his surfers shirt.

At the mention of your group, his head emerges from the piece of clothing, blinking his surprise away. For a moment, there's a flare of self-consciousness, the bob of his Adam's apple evident, but when knowing presents itself in his smile, only you remain flustered. 

Despite clouds crowding the Sun, your skin burns with a sharp prickle, a sinking drop of want conjured in your belly. Thoughts instantly revert to last night, in the low-light of the tent, his face between your legs, lapping at you like you would quench his thirst. The hint of condescend hanging behind his goading words, how he smiled against— 

"You coming?" Yunjin hollers, trance broken. Beyond you, the girls situate themselves within the group, space cleared for your presence. Where Yunjin calls from, she points to a chair conveniently stationed where Anton sits. "Saved you a seat."

As if they couldn't make it any more obvious.

Not that anyone else didn't know. You could the bemused smirks and poorly hid stifled snickers from a mile away. 

Looks like your beach day would be everything but relaxing.

Fallen closed, your eyes flutter open, an almost reluctant sigh out your mouth before your flip flops trudge through the grainy sand. Under their comically large parasol, Anton gazes up at you, book stationed in his lap.

"You read?" 

"That's what I was thinking!" Yunjin rips open a bag of chips, tossing some in her mouth. "Thought he was doing the whole performative male thing to impress you."

"Well, not that he hasn't from what I've heard," she shrugs at your appalled expression, focus directed to the man next to you. "I'd school you in feminist literature, so don't even try."

A good-hearted chuckle is introduced, featherlight against your spine. "The world doesn't need me mansplaining feminist literature, don't worry,"

"Besides, I don't get the whole performative male trend thing anyways," he explains, sitting back in his chair, hips jutting in adjustment. Your head is on a prompt swivel afterwards. "Were guys not reading books before?"

In sheer coincidence, all six of your friends look at each other before laughter breaks out, the deep, chesty kind that has you doubled over, teary-eyed. The guys look to each other, taken aback. 

Except for Sungchan, eyes creased with mirth. "I can't remember last time I read one."

"Think I last read one in like, grade two," Sohee offers.

"Explains why you can't differentiate between you're and your." Anton jokes, teasing smirk not deterred by the fake punch Sohee jabs his way.

Wonbin's nose crinkles, slouching further into his blue and white chair fit for a child. "I tried the whole performative thing, couldn't hack the taste of matcha." 

Hovering just behind him, Seunghan rolls his eyes, bleached eyebrows on their last legs. "Clairo was my top artist last year. I've been setting trends."

"Okay, enough with the ego battle," Heejin's eyebrow knit, nodding her head towards the source of her observation. "What's up with the sandcastle?"

It's pretty impressive, all things considered. Dolphins line the exterior of the castle, the two-storey sandy architecture dotted with small plastic starfish and seashells that have somehow found their way into Wonbin's and Shotaro's hair. 

"It's halfway made, had to stop since Sohee complained about getting sand in his eye," Shotaro explains with comedic timing, head turned back to witness Eunseok kick up more sand into his eyes, his shriek accompanied with his friend's laugh. "Wanna finish it?"

On her stripped green and white beach towel, she and Choerry share a look. Then shrug. "Why not?"

The communal conversation ends, people branching off into their beach activities of the day: sandcastle building, tanning and going for a dip in the ocean. You fall back into your designated chair, almost winded from the conversation.

"All I did was ask you a question." you muse, swiping the side of your face, laughing a little.

"That's how it always is — with us, anyways," Anton explains, slouching into his chair. He's got black shades on, sitting pretty on his nose bridge, your stomach's residing butterflies alive and well. "Despite how soft we speak, we actually talk a lot."

Your grin's shit-eating, hand clasped over your ear with a lean over to him. "What was that?"

Something about being with him makes you seesaw between playfulness and nervous wreck. It's the only time you welcome the tide changes. "Had to, sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I should be," he adjusts himself with the lift of his hips, his knee knocking against yours. An air of earnestness comes in with the sea breeze, his sunglasses used to push back his hair, nothing coming between his gaze on you. "I left yesterday." 

He's said it, acknowledged it. Not pretend nothing ever happened like the other douches you had the displeasure of meeting, with your friends present too.

"To tend to a friend, yes," you heave out, hands running up and down the grain of your cargo jorts. Was it always this hot? "Is he feeling any better?" 

Repeated huffs make their way to your ears, attention directed to beyond your mix of friends, Eunseok and Sohee busy themselves with fake jabs and ducked heads. Sohee's motions are more fluid, a jab almost landed to the surprise of them both. Eunseok then prompts him to watch, the older of the two lifting up into a random backflip.

Anton and yourself look at each other, bitten back amusement heavy in your disbelief. 

"Yeah, think so," he answers, a chuckle at the end. Then it dulls completely, only waves crashing and distant conversation hanging around. "Did you enjoy? Last night, I mean."

Your breath stutters, an upheaval in your chest. In the slump of your exhale, your head turns away, nails grating into the chair's wooden arms. 

"Did you?" you ask. Your throat clears, scratchy and lodged. "We didn't get to you."

"What I get isn't the main priority." 

Fuck.

The mouth on this guy. 

Suddenly, the heat dials up to intolerance, skin prickling under layers you shoot out your chair to remove. 

"You going for a dip? I'm kinda feeling hot."

In the ruckus of you tearing off clothing items, his murmured "Wonder why," hits your ears. A look tossed over your shoulder earns held up hands of surrender, something akin to bashful in his features.

His bones creak as he stands, toned torso in plain sight. It's the very reason why your eyes were averted throughout the conversation, ocean droplets hanging off his body in a mean taunt. He could say the same thing as he watches you shimmy out of your jorts and baby tee, bikini draping your curves like a fitted glove. For what feels like a rarity, he coughs into his fist with the turn of his head, hoping you don't see the blush creeping to his cheeks.

You do.

Timidity melts with hours spent in the sun, easiness in your interactions with Anton and his group that quickly become close friends with yours. Some things may skew under the influence but not your opinion of their group, their playful boyish nature almost endearing to be around. The kind of guys who know how to have fun without the expense of someone else, all good natured fun. After your dip in the ocean, water splashed around while you and Anton revert to your child selves, you join your big group again, spectators and eventual participants in tales traded in the conversation that never runs dry. 

Sometime later, when the sun's more gentle on the skin, the girls and yourself trudge your way over to the surf tournament on the opposite end of the beach. The guys hang back to move all their plentiful belongings to the campsite, their seats reserved in the circle you manage to carve out in the tightly packed beach, terrain full of enthusiasts who cheer and clap during warm-ups. 

"Hey," Sullyoon calls out, phone brightness on high to show off the photo of Larry the Lobster next to Jinsol's sunburnt face. "Spot the difference." 

She earns a shove to their shared beach towel, snickers circling round your group. "Not funny. I thought I re-applied it."

Smacking on gum, Kazuha's line of sight lingers on the surfer girl walking past, golden hair like ocean waves. "Too busy thinking about last night." 

Mouth slacking, you knock her knees in surprise. "What happened last night?" 

"You weren't the only one who got some, " Sullyoon chuckles, arms crossing around knees she brings to her chest. "We all saw Jinsol make-out with Wonbin in 4K," 

"I was high on molly!" Jinsol protests, looking for believers amongst none. "I loved everyone at that moment!"

Heejin does a poor job at hiding her amusement, digging her feet into the sand. "No one mentioned love," she muses.

"I get it though. If I kissed someone who pulled off pink hair that well, I'd fall too."

A whistle blows, warm-ups over with the MCs's voice broadcasts throughout the beach, string of surfer lingo lost on you as your group simply resorts to clapping, laughing at Heejin's remark.

"I'm not—" Jinsol's voice reaches an all-time high, the sheer volume making her hunch into herself. Fiddle with the hem of her oversized linen shirt."It was a one time thing, okay?"

Sullyoon nudges her with her shoulder, a kinder tint to her smirk. "Didn't look it." her head falls to her best friend's shoulder, a tinge of longing in her tone. "Can't believe I've been replaced."

Jinsol detects it immediately, a kiss laid upon Sullyoon's cooper brown locks. 

"I could never replace you."

The same sentiment carries through to all six of you huddled together, reliving every past summer with them at your side. Even when the guys come back and settle in like they'd never left, the feeling never diminishes. A red string of fate weaves itself around your pinkies, another one quietly tethering itself to the man sat behind you.

Waking up Sunday morning fills your body with a satisfied sadness. Every year is like this, shuffling around cocooned in your sleeping bag, chatting in stripped voices with friends who are already reliving the weekend's memories. Again, you swear you'll come back next year and every year in university, that was one of life's certainties. However, now when one or two echo the same sentence, you're holding onto straws as tight as possible, wishing — praying it's true. Because, how after four years of coming here, is this the best year yet? 

Excluding Anton's presence, something feels so purposeful about this year. Time carved out with the intention to be together like before, because you're not afforded that casual luxury anymore. Each joke, hug, tumble and song belted together feels all the more special, soul finding its true home in the bodies of your lovely six — the girls you wouldn't trade for anything. Not even for the feeling Anton gives you. 

In a way, he feels like a first. A bouquet of them all wrapped in one — the only you've orbited around and hasn't wanted to lose you in the crowd. Hell, he'd even reach for you like he did when your groups split for different night DJ sets. How ever small the action, it still sticks with you, still does as you're munching on pain au chocolats for breakfast, Heejin smiling a chocolate-chip stained smile for your group in the common room. Laughter surrounds you, everyone so happy, even more so when Kazuha leans in with a stuck out tongue as if to lick it. Heejin cowers, Kazhua collapsing into her lap and it's so beautiful it hurts. Your head leans to your closest, Choerry's shoulder sturdy as you've always known it to be. Even though you can't see it, you hear her smile before her head angles onto yours, united like you've always been.

Like you'll always be.

After freshening up and getting dressed for the day, your plentiful jewellery jangles with each step, making your way to the morning stages. Half the festival's still asleep, groggy over the non-stop days and nights partying. You're all plagued with fatigue, but it doesn't make itself known, triumphing over the fuzzy feeling as your arms drape over each other's shoulders, at the barricade of a small-time DJ your group's been obsessed since your second year, his remix all on your music wrapped top five songs. Not many others are at the set, maybe three to four waves of people behind your bodies but it doesn't deter the DJ. He's even smiling, egged on by the obnoxious belting your friends do to your beloved remix, two fingers flicked into the air.

"I thought it was a myth!" Jinsol yells into your ear, a laughing look of disbelief. "A real-life frat boy flick — in the flesh!"

"You're doing amazing, sweetie!" The comment hurls from you, Sullyoon to your right having detached from you to do a frenzied two step, pumping her body with a complimentary frat flick. It's ridiculous, so much that your stomach cramps from long laughter. But it's so needed, all the hours you spend together before and afterwards. 

Two sets and a lot of dancing later, you grab fish and chips by the beach, ducking and diving in the sand from overly friendly seagulls. After they've snagged half your meal, you all dip your toes in the ocean, kicking up water with the excuse of cooling off. Eventually, your hands clasp together, patches of sea water embedded into your flowy clothing, a firm promise to comeback sent into the universe. 

This time, you don't doubt it to be true. 

At the height of early afternoon, after crawling the trampled grounds for other acts and photo opportunities, you eventually settle on visiting the carnival. There's teacups, a Ferris Wheel and rigged games you play anyways, a stroke of luck awarding Choerry a large Care Bear she promises to share group-wide custody with. Your weekend mascot, Kazuha supplies. 

In the chaos of ring toss and going dizzying-green on the teacups, you almost miss sight of him. Almost. If not for you bumping into him, hands steadying yourself on his chest. 

You blink away the dizzy film across your eyes, swivelled head coming to rest as you feel a chuckle rumble beneath your hands.

"You ok there?"

The same smile plays on his face, figure haloed by the beginnings of a sunset. "Never better."

"Did you enjoy the beach?" he asks, no move done to remove your hands. 

His hands come to rest on your hips, your own bubble created off to the side of the rides. Out the corner of your eye, yours and his friends intersect, dishing out hugs like family. 

"How'd you know I was there?" your eyebrow quirks, hands smoothing over the collar of his black and white baseball long-sleeve. "You stalking me?"

His eyes crease like you're a comedian. "If I knew your handle, then yes,"

"But there's a seashell in your hair," he muses, one hand retrieving it to put it between you two. Iridescent shell curving itself, pearl white its outer shell. "Is this how you keep it safe for the ride home?"

"You'd be surprised what my hair can keep," you respond, the shrieks of teacup riders a hair width away. "Seashells, secrets."

"What secrets?" 

Your hand beckons him over, his head dipped as he lends you an ear, hand cupping around it. On the height of your toes, you whisper. "Kings of Leon are on in five. Let's line up for the Swing Tower." 

Anton pulls away, a deep nod his answer. "We should get going, shouldn't we?"

His head turns behind him, flagging his friends close by. "We're gonna ride the Swing Tower if you wanna join?"

"We'll leave you lovebirds alon— " Sohee's silenced by Shotaro's hand over him, rest of his sentences muffled but widely known. 

"We'll be right behind you." Shotaro says with a convincing smile, eyes moon crescents behind his thin-rimmed silver glasses. 

Another knowing look is traded between Anton and yourself before you lead your group to the queue steps away, Anton's hand a ghost on your lower back. The quiet presence anchors you in place, the floating feeling of a good trip settling in. In the odd gusts of faint wind, you conversate with those closest to you — Seunghan, Wonbin along with Sullyoon and Jinsol. Something about other festivals you've been to over the years, one out of the many mentioned aligning at the start of September. 

"Starting off the summer and ending it together," Wonbin gathers, arms folding. "It's like fate, no?"

Somehow, your eyes find Anton's, startled but all too aware, you would've found each other then. 

"It is." he answers, only to you.

A long moment keeps you unmoving, the orange sun splaying over his large pupils. Without meaning to, your attention strays, witnessing the downturned smiles of the four others. You're about to breach another conversation topic before the worker maning the queue calls you forward, an onslaught of previous customers shuffling off in a line next to you.

Ascending the rickety metal stairs of the ride, jitters nibble away at your flesh. All the restless anticipation built over the day boils down to now, a time where the excitement crosses over into nervous territory with Anton leading the way. You simply follow along to a swing fit for two, its hot pink shade an eyestrain. You fiddle with your rings the entire way, plotting down with the laboured rise and fall of your chest. A real sense of entrapment comes when the same worker comes over, heavy safety bar crushing you into place. 

Somewhere behind you, you hear something akin to Yunjin and maybe Eunseok's yells despite the swing not moving yet. You want to look back, but you're frozen in place, knees weak enough to give out. Thank goodness you were—

Warmth blankets the top of your hand, your palm strikingly cold against the safety bar. What's previously heard as a loud jumble of sound separate from one another, the monster not as scary as your head turns to the hand's source. 

Anton wears the sunset on his face, flow between features like a slow moving river. He speaks the same way too, slow like molasses. 

"Hey, you're good. We're good," he assures, fingers weaving between yours to push your hand harder against the bar. "Kings of Leon deserves to this kind of listening experience."

You crack a laugh despite yourself, his words not all it takes to make the nerves disappear but enough to make friends with them. The exhausted engine the ride starts up with doesn't inspire lots of confidence, sputtering as if on its last legs. But when your swing starts moving, gliding through the chilled air, a lightness takes up your chest cavity. The hard thud of your own heart demands attention, but when the distinct drum solo ending of Manhattan hits your ears, you're unreasonably giddy, sinking into the notes. Hoots and hollers slice through the flowing air, almost child-like as the swings gain traction, hoisting further into the sky. The sun draws closer, almost like you could reach out and grab it. There's a beauty in how cotton candy floss the sky looks, clouds pastel pink dipped in peach around their edges. Their backdrop is almost purple in nature, light blue having since faded. Moisture collects in your squinted eyes, wind cutting through them while you work overtime to admire the view.

It's not really anything you care for in the lulls of your life, but moments like this make the hues sing to your soul, resounded by the gentle guitar strings of Time in Disguise. In your version of events, Use Somebody played like it would in the perfect coming-of-age film. But life isn't like that, a cookie-cutter of perfect events. Sometimes you get your chips stolen by entitled seagulls and sometimes you're so afraid of heights, you're bending the safety bar with your grip. It's not perfect by any means, but it's pretty damn close to it. 

When you're at the top, nothing but clouds and birds around, your head turns beside you. Anton's got one hand raised, fingers spread like he'll catch the wind between them. The sunset does him favours he doesn't need, shadows cast in the sharp angles of his face, a painting of sentimental as his lips part in a silent sing-along. The lyrics amplify out your chest, volume whipping his head round with the flare of life in his eyes. There's a small tremble in your voice, masked by the sky-high winds but even if there's no blanket to hide behind, you're still unashamed. Sharing giggles with each other in lyrics known by heart, each word louder than the last. At the chorus littered with questions, your hand relents, prying off the poor safety bar but tightly-woven into Anton's, kept between your bodies as the other hand extends to catch wind like his did. While you may age years down the line, memory coming and going, you find it hard to say you'll forget this moment — friends' unmistakable cheers adlibs to Caleb Followill's soulful voice, time nothing but a disguise amongst the clouds. 

Eventually, when you reach the ride's pinnacle, it comes to a momentary halt. It's not as thrilling stopped, the denseness of being so many feet in the air putting you on the wrong side of weightless, core tensed. A squeeze to your held hands alerts you over to Anton, his finger extended over into the horizon. 

"See there?" he gestures to the biggest stage of the festival, an unearthly field worth of people watching the performance. "That's where they are. They're playing I Want You — which is their best song, by the way."

"Why do I feel like you're the type to watch music festivals when drunk?" you ask, playing off distant memories at your uncle's house, sipping on grape juice and beer respectively while watching Glastonbury stages.

He cast you a side glance, trying not to smile. "Are you psychic or in my walls?"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." 

Your held hands fall to your shared lap, his broad shoulder free real estate you take upon yourself to indulge, laying your head down. It's only a scarce amount of seconds before his head leans as well, on top of yours before a yell from behind calls to you. 

With a micro shift in your swing, you manage to catch a familiar platinum bob, belonging to none other than Jinsoul. Your head cannot crane further to see who sits beside her. 

"It's Sullyoon," Anton supplies with a wink.

"We snapped a really cute photo! You'll like it!" Jinsoul holler mid-air, your thanks and thumbs up thrown her way. 

"I think looking at my phone would make me sick."

"Don't worry, I've got it." his hand pats his trouser pocket, pulling out his own. Instead of navigating through AirDrop, he opens up his camera app, lens full of the saturating sunset.

"Get it before it goes," you encourage, clicks off going as the camera captures it landscape and portrait, in different frame settings too.

"They'll be all yours once we're back down," he says, holding the device with his non dominant hand. In an absent tap, the camera flips onto you two, the picture of domesticity pulling your head back slightly. "My bad."

"No, take it." you're scooching closer into the frame when there's no need to, cheek squished into the curve of his shoulder. Searching eyes flicker down to yours in a question of reassurance, your head nod all he needs before he shakes his head to fluff his hair.

Lavender makes its way to your nose, dry shampoo doing the heavy lifting for his hair according to Wonbin tidbit shared in the queue. In near direct sunlight, your eyes squint slightly, spying the peace signs posed behind your backs as he snaps the photo, 1 of 1. 

Just as he's stashing his phone away, the ride moves again, swing moving forwards again as the rig lowers. While your fear waits to kiss the ground once back down, a slight longing hangs in the curtains of your emotions, eased by the brush of Anton's thumb to your knuckles, voice louder to sing to Radioactive. 

Back on your own two feet is when your hands finally release, clammy in some areas, but a none issue for Anton who only jokingly bumps into your side on the way tothe rest of your group. In the quick discussion of what to do, quickly deciding to catch the rest of Kings of Leon's set, your phone pings in your bumbag. Unzipped, you unlock it, only to be distracted by an Airdrop request from Jinsol. Looking at her, she, Sullyoon and a nosy Sungchan admire the photos, thumbs up sent your way. Once delivered, the image takes up your entire screen.

It's like you're sitting at the height of the world, feet dangling off the swing as the sunset eclipses your faces. Your face is largely unseen, focused on the ahead sunset, but Anton's side profile is most prominent, eyes drinking in every drop of you. The pastel background emphasizes the affection in his expression, an almost honey-like sweetness dripping from his eyes. It's stunning, very much worthy of the thumbs up.

Another notification blocks the picture, an Airdrop message from Nugu6000. 

You're about to delete it before Anton's soft voice tells you it's him, the shake of your head his only response. There's 17 photos in total, sixteen of them the breath-taking sky at all angles, your favourite amongst many. The last photo, different from the rest, is your picture together. It's just as sweet as Jinsol's photo, maybe even more because now both your faces are visible, the same sentiment displayed in both.

It doesn't take long to be added to your favourites folder, tucked away with the 16 sky photos, phone turned off to the image of you two hanging at the top of the universe. 

For someone who was undecided on going to Kings of Leon's set, you sure knew their lyrics, classics dusted off the shelves of your memory as you bob along with the crowd. No effort's made to venture further like last night, the freedom of the outskirts outweighing the hassle of being swept away. 

Live music is an experience you'll always chase, something deep in you seeking raw vocals and strum of the guitar you feel course through your veins. Even with its' dulled ache through the mileage collected over the weekend, your feet never stop moving, two-stepping into the crowd as Anton shadows you, an enthused nod bringing out laughter in you. 

In curiosity, your eyes comb over your surroundings, starstruck faces many in the crowd, all sharing the look of enjoyment. Of freedom the music gives, telling a story all up to one's interpretation. The same enjoyment tugs at your lips, eyes falling back to your group who again, enjoy nothing more than each other's company, interwoven in ways that seem like forever. Yunjin and Eunseok have their backs to each other, air-guitaring while Shotaro, Choerry, Sungchan and Kazuha have their arms looped over each other's shoulders swaying, singing obnoxiously loud. The rest nod along, unfamiliar with the words but not the sentiment, the same happiness in them too. 

It's a moment you wish you could keep in a glass bottle forever, revisit when life was its clear opposite. 

You don't allow yourself to go there, not even by a millimetre, sinking your teeth into the beauty of the moment. The frontman, Caleb, converses with the crowd, band members egging on crowd reactions as a lone drum beat comes. It brings the crowd alive, a call and response created to jump-start the song everyone knows and responds to.

Use Somebody.

Everyone's hands go sky-high, up as they fall into the rhythm of a slow left to right. The weightlessness is there, infectious with everybody in the largest crowd of the weekend. Anton's behind you, a comforting presence as his hand shadow yours, a brief squeeze of your hands making you laugh with the easiness that comes with him, a warm light shining from within. 

In your ear, you hear him sing, tender like he wants to charm butterflies. You flock to him regardless, turning back around to get a good look at him. He's tanned beautifully over the past sunny days, beloved by the sun bringing out the deep olive of his complexion. His hair's wind swept, not fussed over since the Swing Tower and he…just looks so content. With everything, with the band performing in front of him, his friends around and your hands in his. Something divine swipes over your figures, dissipating the crowd to only your two souls. Eyes dazzling, lyrics flowing and just the right type of romance.

The kind you didn't think as conceivable in the wake of non-committal jokes. The kind wicked uni boys convinced you you'd do without, only amounting to the promise of a good time.

Again, Anton's eyes crease, a crinkle to his nose. He looks at you like you're something special and even without him, you know it to be true. It's just nice to have him see it too.

Kissing him never gets old, but there's a special kind of kiss done lost in the crowd, Sex on Fire beginning in the background. You smile at the irony, looping your arms around his nape while you rock yourself onto your tip toes, wanting it all. There's leftover sugar grains on his lips, the taste of cinnamon and vanilla ice cream on his tongue. His hands anchor down at your hips, the only thing tethering you down to earth as the rest of you floats. Nothing more consumes your mind more than your lips on him, everything an afterthought as his tongue glides over your bottom lip.

Desperate fingers tangle into his locks of hair, pulling when his teeth catch between your lip, the slightest tug drawing a whine out of you. And he has the audacity to smile afterwards, against your lips like your body isn't hot coal level warm. 

When your lungs scream for air, constricted beyond comfort is only when you bear to pry from Anton, eyes blinking apart to focus again. He's so clear to you, wrapped in hues of orange and red, brimming with the same fondness you feel tickle in your chest. 

No part of you wants to stop, neither does Anton who goes back in for more. You swear your hear some wolf whistles, but this time all you can do is laugh, pecking him back before your seeking hands grab ahold of his, set in your way as you lead him through the jostling crowd.

On your way out, your eyes catch on Jinsol, shoulders blanketed in Wonbin's embrace as they nod along to the song's last notes. Like clockwork, she catches onto yours, tawny brown eyes wide all before her lips curve into a knowing smirk, the words 'have fun' mouthed before you pass.

It's Friday all over again, same hand clasped and fingers interlocked, you leading him where more awaits. Except there's no jittery feeling nipping at your turning stomach, no tremble of your hand. Just the satisfaction of having Anton all to yourself, all while you can. 

Not a moment is wasted, the quick unzip and zip of the tent you've called home for the weekend the only thing you grab ahold of before you're swept off your feet. He brings you impossibly close, demanding hands swallowing the underside of your bare thighs as you jump into his arms, rocking yourself on his growing erection with moans that bleed over.

It's hungry, the way you both move for a surface to fuck on, your back eventually meeting the polyester of your trusty sleeping bag. His hand comes from underneath your head, wanting to cushion your fall but as he comes back up for air, you do too, following him in flimsy kisses as clothes get tossed aside, shaky pants all you hear beyond the quiet festival murmur.

"Anton," you rasp, desperately needy as his mouth trails the sweet skin of your neck, marking his presence. "Don't tease. Not now."

He licks a long stripe against the skin, tasting salt and the unique blend of you that makes him moan. "I won't,"

A chaste kiss presses against you, the brush of his lips the aftermath. "Even my patience has limits."

The gruff of his words pool heat in your swirling belly, a pathetic mess between your legs he firms open with skimming kisses, unable to deny himself a sliver of you. Once his hands hit the waistband of your underwear, pretty accent bow a feast for his eyes, they flicker up to yours. He's all pupils, a slim ring of brown around darkness illuminated by Yunjin's pearl light. The way he's looking at you — like he can't wait to eat you — you're surprised he doesn't rip the material in half, having the decency to peel the soaked material off, watching the string of slick connected to the gusset stretch. A pained sound claws from his chest, canines digging deep into his bottom lip as he watches the vulgar show, all until the material is discarded.

"Poor girl. So wet for me," he says, inching closer to you. Anticipation makes your thoughts race, your only focus pinpointed on the man between your legs. "I'll take care of you now. Just be good for me."

In the echo of his words, he lines himself with your weeping cunt, face contorting into the sweet mix of pleasure and devastation as he slides in. As vaguely gauged in moments of intimacy, he's big, fat tip stretching your hole in a preview for what his hard length brings. Immediately, your legs twitch, idle hands not knowing what to do except claw into the sleeping bag's swishing material, long overdue moans filling the thin walls. 

"You're so—ngh," you grunt, eyebrows screwed together, mouth panting. "Fuck."

"You can take it, I know you can," he goads, a teasing curve to his plump lips, back of his finger cascading up your flushed cheek. The hairs on your sweat-slicked neck stand, deep inhale filling your lungs. "Look at how needy you are, squirming for more."

His dense stare bores into your flesh, not addressed as your eyes focus on the view between your legs. Quietly watching, his veined pelvis draws closer, neatly trimmed pubes an airbrush to sensitive skin as his hard cock slides into you, cruel and achingly slow. It's more of a shuddered breath than calm exhale you do as he stretches your walls, quick to come down on him as his hand bruises your hip. Only when he's buried to the hilt can you breath again, a struggling moan climbing out your lips as you peer up with creased brows, the ghost of Anton's smirk all that's left as his mouth parts with pleasure. 

"Should've done this ages ago," he remarks, a grunt heaved out his chest. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so good" 

An experimental roll of his hips has you gripping at the material of your sleeping bag, his pine oak scent embracing you as he gives you more. A lazy fog begins on the edges of your vision, the rush of blood pounding in your ears competing with the slap of skin, his pelvis and heavy balls smacking against the plush of your ass. It's nasty, the indecent squelch echoing where you two meet, satisfaction curving Anton's red-kissed lips. 

"Hear that? Oh, she's crying for me," his sentence ends with a haunting chuckle, cunt clamping down to the filth of it. While he builds a steady rhythm, making sure to touch every inch of your sensitive walls, your eyes roll back, arms shaking to the burst of pleasure quickly overwhelming you. "Just like that, needy girl. Let go, let me make you feel good."

Your toes curl with a teeth-bared grunt, the drag of each vein and ridge pooling a thick, hot ball of insatiable lust in your belly, body hunching into itself. Anton opens the valve to your endless moans, desperate sounds unrecognisable to your burning ears as he goes hard enough to make your breasts jump each thrust. 

"That's so good," you wither, willing the tears of overwhelm not to overflow. "You're so fucking good, oh my god."

"No one does it better, right? No one fucks you like I do?" 

"Yesyesyes!" the confirmation resounds through the tent, for his ears and yours. You sniffle, close to breaking. "Only you, Anton. Only you." 

He grunts, expression taut in restrain."You're so sweet for me, angel," air pushes out his chest rhythmically, echoing the pace of his fast thrusts. 

"Harder, harder!" you squeal, white-knuckling the material underneath you. "Give it to me, please!"

"Fuck," he curses out, a momentary lapse in movement used to adjust himself, both hands iron-tight on your humping hips. "You begging gets me so hard. Makes me wanna do filthy things to you."

"Do it!" your hips buck on him, starved for more. "Want it all, Ton." 

Determination lining the hard edges of his face, thrusts come down on your body with a punishing force, the breath knocked out of you. Your eyes cross, girthy cock splitting you open in the best way, skin friction licking heat up your bowed spine. 

The whole room spins, festival the furthest thing from mind. The world boils to this, to Anton and the only kind of pleasure he gives you, the explosive burst of ecstasy ticking in you like a time-bomb. 

"I'll—ah! I'll come if you d-don't slow down," you warn, weak outstretched hand. The high you're on hurtles you towards ground unknown, the inkling feeling drawing slight panic in your eyes that can only slow blink. "I'm gonna p—!" 

"Sounds like you don't know your body like I do," he has the audacity to smirk, gold chain beating between his collarbones, chiselled torso something of your wettest dreams. One hand relents off your hip, skin perfectly bruised as it slides between you two, bunched fingers rubbing your clit. "You're gonna make a mess for me, baby. Go on, it'll feel good."

A snake to a charmer, your body moves to his notes, the world imploding all around you. You crash into your orgasm hard, air strangled out your burning lungs as your gasp echoes in the back of your mind, head thrown back with a hard thud. Body no longer yours, it moves on its own accord, thrashing around as the pleasure ripples through every micro cell, cunt shooting out a flood of liquid drenching Anton's lower half and your poor sleeping bag (again). You're too out of it to conceive the matter, much less sheepishly apologize, nonsensical babbles running out your mouth.

"Sit tight, pretty girl. I'm right there with you," his words make their way to you, heavy and tormented. "God, gonna fill you up just right. Have you dripping with my come. You want it, don't you? Don't you, sweet girl?"

He's still working circles over your aching clit, overstimulation creeping in ever so slightly, unimaginable bliss close behind. Your body can only shiver, hard and continuously, hips still bucking to meet his thrusts as he ruts one last time before he stills. His tip jabs hard against your cervix, unleashing a deep-seated scream that forces you into your own orgasm, cheeks gathering moisture as you come with a cry. 

It's a long while before the world makes sense again, pulled out of your closest to heaven experience, arms blanketing your eyes. Laboured, your chest heaves, hard pressed for air that makes its way to your brain again, pumping blood slowing in the background. Your core shakes in overuse, not bothering with sitting up and only looking, one eye cracked open with your arms pushing up slightly. In your lethargic film-coated gaze, Anton's top half brackets over yours, pants resounding with a sweat-layered fringe sticking to his forehead, tongue swiping over his lips. 

Mid swipe, his eyes flicker over to yours, kindness blooming across his face. He smiles like he's been caught with his hand in a cookie jar. 

Seems like his words have caught up to him.

"That was," he murmurs, thumb and index finger ironing out his scrunched eyebrows. "A lot. I'm sorry if that was uncomfortable for you." 

"The opposite, actually," you end up saying, surprising yourself and him, owlish blinks shared between the two of you. "I-I liked it — if you couldn't tell."

His eyes drop down to your sleeping bag, clear liquid sat on the waterproof surface. "I had a feeling."

The embarrassment diasrms you, hands running over your hot face while you scramble for words to say. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know I could do that, I'll take care of it."

He laughs like you've told a joke, nose scrunched with a gasp-like laughter. "No hard feelings, I'm glad I could make you feel something good — something new."

Your tongue clicks, enough energy restored to have you sit upwards, scepticism narrowing your eyes. "Should've never believed the girls when they said you're the shy type."

His hand cups around the half of his mouth, voice dropped to a loud whisper. "It's always the shy ones."

You chuckle with him, swatting away his hand, only him to grasp onto you, fingers interlocking in a slow, gentle move. The uptake in your heart rate is comical, breath shallow as Anton's larger hand gives yours a squeeze of comfort, smile like honey. 

"I'm glad I came here," he lets you know, eyes on yours as they've always been. "I'm glad I met you." 

A homeliness engulfs your heart, body warm and buzzing. "I'm glad I met you too." 

Monday is an odd day. The grogginess of non-stop partying finally catching up with your battered body, sandy eyes burning with each lazy blink. Much isn't said as you dissemble your weekend home, packing away your lumpy pillow you really have to replace next year, saying goodbye to Yunjin's pearl light too.

Speaking of Anton, in yet another stroke of fate ─ out of all the cars crawling in the long exiting lines of the festival, their black Land Rover inches right beside yours, surfboards and camping miscellaneous hanging out the back. Along with Sohee and Eunseok, waving to your car. 

In the car seat opposite yours, Anton pulls out his wired earphones, looking frontwards where Shotaro speaks from the driver's sear. A nod in your direction is all it takes for the red string to connect again, your smiles instant and everlasting.

A few mouthed words are traded, left to personal interpretation before he hoists his phone up. Projected on his lockscreen is nothing but sheer coincidence, the song playing sending your heart into a series of flutters. A full circle moment to the summer you'd been longing for. 

Wish You Were Mine. 

And lucky for him, he doesn't have to wish. You are his as much as summer is yours, sea breeze blowing through rolled-down windows as Sullyoon's car chases the sun, fast-tracked to your next adventure.

thank you for reading! („• ֊ •„)੭

comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated.ᐟ ᰔ

At the root of anyone's envy of you, is the easy-going nature you possess. 

Nothing in life seems to deter you. No tears wept over spilt milk, no conversation or adventure too outlandish for the flow you coast on. It's the kind of blasé attitude that makes hardship foreign to you, because even if inconveniences arises, is it not a happy detour to your final destination? A moment for pause, to think, remember the smell of roses despite the figurative collapse of life coming down around you ─ and like everything in life, you don't go through it ─ everything bends to your will, sea parting because that's what life's like when water runs off your back. Life's better that way ─ less complicated, more fun, somehow always finding yourself in situations that earn all the gasps and laughter at the flock of people surrounding you, starved for the stories you tell and whatever way they can possibly weave themselves into new ones.

It's a phenomenon ─ never through your own admission ─ that entices men, suitors hard pressed to be interesting enough to warrant the stray of your life. Sometimes, you indulge, because the mundane is inevitable, but like the rest of your stories, they're in the past, your heart fully present and drenched in the colours of raw emotion, but built with the capacity to move on. It's how you've found yourself at your latest chapter, navigating what should be a serious third-year at university, only for it to be some off-hand detail in the grand scheme of things. Dancing on bar tables, dressing triple your age during pub golf, travelling oceans away on a course trip, celebrating victory wins hoisted up by teammates and ultimately kissed on the pitch, by your adoring and doting boyfriend, Jake.

He has every bit of your heart, swooping in with his charming smile and sun-kissed skin from the vacation you'd met on. All you assume it to be is a summer romance, a whirlwind week where you ride on the back of his moped bike, arms circled around his waist with the coastal winds wisping through your hair. His feather-light giggles float past your ears, manoeuvring through the streets of the obscure European beach town you'd travelled to on a whim. Summer's clutches would not leave you, nagging, and as the due date for the academic year draws nearer, you decide to write another chapter. One more paragraph to close out the summer and it's your best chapter yet. Catching shellfish, cooking them over a fire made on a one-man island, immersing with locals who quickly adopt you as their own, free-floating in the ocean with the little time you spend on land spent exploring. Enriching yourself in the beauty life had to offer beyond the drone of normalcy, and Jake's there for it all. Captivated by you, as you are him and when your last night together comes, some part of you really can't let it go. Wondering if this heartbreak may crack the rose-tinted lens you see the world in, echoing over the plane's roaring engine as you clutch the necklace he'd wielded for you, a singular J etched into a heart that's fully his.

And to your surprise (as if life taught you the concept), the heartache doesn't last long. Not when Jake shows up on your university campus, parting the grump grey clouds plagued by your uni town, but being the sunshine beaming down on you two as you embrace, held in his arms as he twirls you around, giggles free-falling from your fallen lips.

Not a thought is spared, sticking together like glue because that's the thing about whims, you're constantly on one. Doing this, doing that. With someone, then another. Your friends enjoy it for what it's worth, enjoying the fresh flowers he adorns your uni house in and the handiwork he does your maintenance man can't be bothered with, but they know. Know like everything else, this won't last. But Jake sticks, weathers the autumn he comes in and nestles into the winter you creep into, your fingers interlaced as you marvel at the city carnival, somehow finding his way around rigged games and winning the biggest plushie your eyes dazzle from.

It's straight out-of-a-movie, perfect in every way. You're not together like how vacation-you were, building towards ambition as you live your own lives, and it's…freeing. The thing about men before him is that even the securest of them had a knack for insecurity. Feeling small in the grandness of your existence. They couldn't handle anything being more fulfilling than them, they had to be the most interesting thing about you and that, you couldn't stand, serving as a canvas for their own painting. You are your own person with Jake, painting the strokes to your own story while he does nothing but admire yours, a kiss to your cheek before he gets to his own, choosing his own set of colours instead of borrowing your own. You work together, in ways that are conventional and some that…aren't.

Perhaps you're too-free of two souls, no limit to the flight of your wings that situations where someone else would recoil, actually open up earnest dialogue between you two. You're not sure who breaches the topic first ─ you or Jake, but you're in the situation you are in now because of it. So stupidly in love with each other, but still able to fuck other people.

It's a civil agreement. It happens, but isn't discussed at length with each other. There are so many things to try, so many people to meet, why be bound by the ties of monogamy? Sex is something you're nearly matched in, no shortage of kinks explored, but when something new creeps in, when the other is too tired for another rendezvous, isn't it convenient to have an outlet? No sad jerk-off or groan at your battery-drained toy, but another human. Another person you have your moment of relief with, vanishing in the morning where Jake wakes you up with bed in breakfast, looking at you with the same overflowing love in his eyes like he did last.

Initially, you're surprised by your newfound liberty, looking over your shoulder as you scroll through dating apps you'd sworn off, Jake folding over your back and swiping as if he'd be meeting the men. To no surprise, no one draws your attention and even on night outs, those who approach you don't get anywhere beyond a gentle rejection squeeze on the shoulder. It doesn't necessarily worry you, more so opens up an avenue for unconventionality, meeting someone in the waking hours of your crawling campus. 

Jungwon is one of them. 

He's one of the students below you in the tutoring program you'd randomly got roped into. How could you pass up the opportunity to extend a helping hand? Especially when your professor begged with clasped hands, looking at you like you're his sole saviour. It jam-packs your schedule, but you prefer it that way. Less time to ponder, to lose yourself in rumination because you aren't immune to it either. Point is, you take on his request and offer sparse sessions to the two students you're delegated with. One another second year girl whose transition into uni is wobbly at best, but bettered by your assurance. And the other, Jungwon.

In the library is where you first see him, your head lifting at the call of your name. When you're due to confirm it, the answer dies on your tongue. He is strikingly beautiful, an intricate mix of features contrasting between cute and handsome. It hits you like a ton of bricks, nothing but the flutter of your lashes echoing on the talking library floor, background nothing but that in his presence. He smiles like he's caught you, but there's no cockiness to it. If your eyes aren't deceiving you, there's a flicker of reciprocity in it, but it's quickly shut down. No matter how lawless you may seem, your purpose is to tutor him, not to flirt.

So, that's what you do. Flash him a friendly smile, known to charm, and extend your hand, eclipsed in his larger one. You pretend you don't feel the jolt of electricity at the mere touch and immediately crack open your previous notes, the first bit of your session utilized to gauge the basis of his knowledge and build from there. You leave the session rushing off to football practice, promising him the better grade he's searching for and leave feeling accomplished, willing the back of your mind not to draw forwards. You tell Jake about it, the tutoring session that is, over the burger bowl he's invited you to try out. You don't really tell him other things related to Jungwon ─ how your hands sparked to the touch, that from time to time, your attention would stray to the obscene stretch of his shoulders or the sneaky spread of his smile. No, you just mention offhandedly that he's handsome and Jake nods, all good-natured, but ends up laughing into his lettuce, knowing better.

Knowing you.

To be loved is to be seen, and while you'd always thought of the sentiment as reassuring, it now feels like unnecessary exposure. Like you'd been caught with your hand in a cookie jar and while the shame shouldn't come with it, it does. Because like Jake, Jungwon charges you with something similar. Current beneath your fingertips, the extra thump to your heart that bruises your chest and keeps your eyes pried when you really should be sleeping. Not because you're capable of falling in love with him too, but because even the slight question of its possibility poses an issue. Ruins the mirage of what life's been like with Jake because even if you're able to fuck people, there's perimeters for it. Suggestions, Jake had corrected you. While repeat lovers aren't frowned upon, they need to be discussed. Put under a lens for inspection because if they're someone you keep running back to, the foundation of your relationship has no choice but to be called into question.

Why are we together? Where do we not click? Do we need to make it work or are they the one for you? To what extent are they the one for you?

So many question posed, messing with the harmony you love. The constant you've come to crave, so you firm it. Push any possibilities to the furthest points of your expansive mind and run on auto-pilot, teaching Jungwon until he knows better, keeping things friendly until things run their course, his steady good grades no longer requiring your services.

Unfortunately, like you've known him to be, he's lovely about your last meet-up, gifting you the biggest pack of your favourite chocolate ─ the one you'd been snacking on during your sessions ─ and a bouquet of flowers, modest but meaningful because they'd been the same you'd picked up on your walk to the library one time.

"It's the least I could do. Your time has nothing on these," he says, admiring the clutch you do to your chest of all the goodies. Then his eyes find yours, like they always do, sparkling in their earnest way. Except there's a hint of darkness behind them, a doom you know you'll be subjected to.

He steps closer, the grey of his sweatshirt stretched across his chest, glasses balancing on his nose. His hair is a bit shorter, and you loved his long hair, but now you might love his shorter hair more, a bit dishevelled in a stupidly handsome way. And he's there, a hair-length away from you, his fresh linen scent consuming you with the flutter-shut of your eyes, only pried open when you feel him move.

Jungwon ducks, lowering his head to meet you at eye-level, tone like gravel as he's close enough for your lips to graze if you'll allow it, your lashes weaved together.

"And if you need any of my services," he smirks, the sound etched into your memory. "You know where to find me."

This all happens in a library. A public one, full of said to be concentrating students who mindlessly yap the hours away, laying witness to your knee buckle, willed by a mechanical smile and the close proximity of a nearby table.

He leaves and when he's out of sight, you're not even graceful enough to collapse into a pulled-out chair, a pool of melted limbs on the carpeted floor you can only pray has been cleaned.

Jungwon knows you're with Jake. You haven't shared that part of your relationship, but he knows enough by your Instagram posts where everyone portrays themselves to be happier than they really are. It should make you think different of him, less, because sex is on the table for him despite you being very committed to your partner. You don't know if that makes him sick or somehow captivating, as if he hasn't reduced you to the mess you are, face buried in a bunch of flowers you'll dry so they'll last longer.

You're weak. So fucking weak because whatever high and mighty standards you may have held yourself to now come crashing down on you, leaving you no choice but to yield.

To listen to the voice at the back of your head, even though you know better.

A time is set, one you do share with Jake almost like an admission of guilt.

He won't have it.

"Hey," he calls sweetly, finger nudging your chin upwards. In your vision, he lays himself as its centre, kind eyes offered to you. He's never nothing but understanding, seen in the words he speaks. "This is meant to be a good thing. Your tutoring sessions are over with, so there's nothing holding you back,"

"Frowning doesn't suit you," he jokes, smiling in the face of your own. "Don't think about it too much. Have your cake and eat it too."

thank you for reading! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

comments, reblogs and likes are much appreciated.ᐟ ᰔ

GENERAL/ALL WORKS TAGLIST  ⨾ @ahnoote ノ@angelhyuka ノ @hwrtoni ノ @kookiesnkim ノ@kssniki ノ@user-0703

Heeseung is the sun around which the entire campus orbits.

He’s the captain of the basketball team, the big star whose name echoes through the packed arena during every game. With his lean yet athletic build, dark hair that falls over his sweaty forehead after a match, and that lazy half-smile that screams trouble while charming every girl in sight, he moves like he’s always being watched — and he is. Every head turns when he walks by, the crowd in the hallways parting like the sea for him and his teammates. He loves the attention.

Everyone knows the stories about Heeseung. He doesn’t do relationships — he rotates. A new girl every week, sometimes every day if he’s in the mood. They’re often seen leaving his apartment late at night, or early in the morning if he feels like letting them stay over, hair messy and wearing his team jacket like a trophy.

He usually doesn't appear with them in public, but it doesn't take long for the chosen girl to start gossiping in the hallways about how she's being fucked by him. That doesn’t last long though, because once the thrill fades he ignores them completely, never answering their messages once the weekend is over. "Let’s just have fun," he says, and the girls always agree, secretly believing they’ll be the one to change him.

You’ve been watching him from afar for months, studying the way he laughs too loudly at parties with his arm around whatever girl he’s with at the moment, the way his hand rests on her lower back as he guides her through the crowd, and how his eyes scan the room like he’s already searching for the next target while the current one is still pressed against him. It should disgust you — the casual way he uses people, the trail of broken hearts he leaves behind without remorse. But it doesn’t disgust you. It feeds you.

Deep down, in that secret place where you allow yourself to be completely honest, you want to be one of them. Not just another weekly girl — you want to be the one who breaks the pattern, the one so unforgettable, so incredible in bed and out of it, that Heeseung, the campus player, finally chooses you for good.

The problem is you have no idea how to make that happen.

You’re a virgin, completely untouched. The closest you’ve ever gotten to intimacy was an awkward, too-long hug with your best friend Jake after a tough week of exams. Approaching Heeseung as you are now — inexperienced, nervous, and clumsy — would never work.

"He likes confident girls, experienced ones who know how to dominate and be dominated in equal measure, because he doesn’t waste time teaching the basics. He expects you to already know how to please him." That’s what you heard from one of his teammates.

So after watching him leave the court with yet another girl on his arm, you make a decision.

You’re going to practice.

You’re going to transform yourself into the perfect girl for him — experienced enough to impress him, confident enough to stand out, and irresistible enough that when he finally notices you, he won’t be able to let you go.

────────

You stand outside Jake’s dorm room long enough for your legs to start aching. Your best friend’s room has always been your safe haven — the perfect spot for late-night study sessions, movie marathons, and listening to him ramble excitedly about sci-fi. Jake is kind, a bit nerdy in the best way possible, like a golden retriever with brown hair, a sweet smile, and glasses.

With a deep breath, you knock on the door.

Jake opens it almost immediately and breaks into a wide smile the moment he sees you. "Hey, what took you so long? Come in— wait, are you okay? You look tense."

You step inside and sit on the edge of his bed, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. Jake drops into his desk chair and pulls it closer so he’s facing you directly, his knees almost brushing against yours. "Jake… I need to talk to you about something kind of crazy, embarrassing, and probably really stupid."

He tilts his head, curiosity sparkling behind his glasses. "You know you can tell me anything. What’s going on?"

You tell him everything — how you’ve been watching Heeseung for months, how every time you see him with someone new, something deep in your chest twists, not exactly with jealousy, but with desire. You share the rumors you’ve heard about how he likes girls who know what they’re doing, girls who can match his intensity. Finally, you admit that you want to be the one he chooses — not just for a week, not for a fling, but for good.

"But I’m a virgin, Jake," you whisper, your cheeks burning. "I’ve never even… I don’t know what I’m doing. So if I tried to approach him like this, he’d probably laugh."

Jake’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t interrupt.

"So I’ve decided… I’m going to practice. I’m going to get experience so that when I finally have my chance with Heeseung, I’ll be good enough that he won’t want anyone else."

Silence stretches between you as Jake stares at you for a long moment. He pushes his glasses up, his expression soft — not mocking, not disgusted. Just… Jake. "Wow. That’s… a lot. Heeseung, huh? I mean, I get it, but you’re really willing to do all that for him?"

Biting your lip, you nod. "I know it sounds crazy, but I can’t stop thinking about it. And… I was hoping you’d help me with the first part."

Your voice drops until it’s almost inaudible. "I want you to be my first. I want to lose my virginity with you. You’re my best friend and I trust you. I know you’ll be gentle, you won’t laugh at me or tell anyone. Please, Jake?"

His cheeks flush pink and for a second it looks like he might say no. "You… you want me to what? Oh my God. I don’t even know what to say."

He lets out a nervous laugh, a mix of surprise and something he’s always kept hidden. "I’ve never thought about you like that before or… okay, maybe I have, a little. But you’re serious? This is all for Heeseung?"

"Yes, but right now it’s about learning with someone safe, someone who cares. And that someone is you."

Jake stays quiet for a moment while he thinks, then reaches out and takes your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "Okay… if we’re really going to do this, I want it to be right for you. Not just jumping in headfirst." His thumb keeps tracing slow, soft circles on the back of your hand. "You’ve never done any of this before, right? Not even… by yourself?"

You swallow hard, staring at your intertwined fingers, and admit softly, "No… I mean, I tried rubbing against my pillow once and it felt good, I think? But I got scared and stopped. I don’t know what I’m doing, Jake. That’s why I need you to help me learn."

Jake nods, adjusting his glasses — a nervous habit — with flushed cheeks, but his voice stays as gentle and patient as always. "That makes sense. But before anyone else touches you, you should get to know your own body first. What feels good, what you like. It’ll make everything easier later… for him and for you."

He hesitates for a second, then adds with a small reassuring smile, "Do you trust me enough to try this now? With me here?"

Your heart races with a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. "Yes, I trust you. Just… tell me what to do, please."

Jake stands up slowly and sits beside you on the bed. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your temple, then to your cheek. "Start by getting comfortable. Lie back, and maybe take off your sweater if you want to and feel okay with it."

You do as he says, pulling off your sweater and setting it aside so you’re left in just your tank top and jeans. "Good," he murmurs. "Now touch yourself under your clothes first, over your stomach, along your thighs… feel how your body reacts."

You slide your hand beneath the thin fabric of your tank top. Your fingers graze the soft skin of your belly, then move higher, gently caressing one of your breasts. It feels strange doing this while he watches, but his gaze isn’t hungry or demanding — it’s warm and encouraging, like he’s looking at something precious. When your fingertips brush your nipple, a small sigh escapes you.

"Right there. That’s good. Circle slowly and squeeze just a little."

As he speaks, his own hand drifts down to the front of his sweatpants and then he starts touching himself gently over the fabric, not even trying to hide it. Knowing he’s getting hard just from watching you makes your breath hitch.

Following his instruction, you circle and lightly pinch your nipple, feeling a warm sensation build low in your belly. "Jake, it feels so good…"

"Tell me," he encourages, his hand moving in slow strokes that match the rhythm of your breathing. "Does it make you wet between your legs?"

"Yes," you sigh.

"Keep going, slide your other hand into your jeans and touch yourself over your panties if you’re not ready for more yet."

With your free hand you obey, unbuttoning your jeans and slipping inside. The fabric of your panties is already damp when you press your fingers against yourself and rub lightly, drawing a soft whimper from your throat.

Both of your breathing grows heavier with every second. Jake pushes his sweatpants and boxers down just enough to free himself, stroking slowly while he watches every movement of your fingers.

"Fuck, that’s beautiful," he breathes, the words slipping out like he can’t hold them back. "Rub your clit. Find the spot that feels best."

You circle your clit, experimenting with pressure and rhythm, rolling your hips when you finally discover the perfect way to touch yourself. Jake’s eyes stay locked on your hand while his own speeds up, his thumb brushing over the head of his cock with every stroke.

"Inside your panties now," his voice still gentle but strained. "Feel how wet you are. Explore your body, learn what it likes so you can show someone exactly what you need."

You push your panties aside and slide a finger along your slick folds. "Slide a finger inside, babe," he says and when you do, a moan escapes your lips — it’s tight, but not uncomfortable. Jake groans with the sight, his hand moving faster on himself.

"Add another finger and curl them a little. Yeah, just like that. You’re doing so good, babe." His praise makes you bolder, so you start pumping your fingers slowly, rubbing your clit with your thumb at the same time, while your free hand keeps playing with your breast, pinching harder as the pleasure rises.

"You’re getting close, aren’t you? I can tell by the way you’re breathing. Let it happen. Imagine how good it’ll feel when I’m inside you." His words push you over the edge.

Moaning Jake’s name, completely lost in the overwhelming sensation, your body tenses and your thighs tremble uncontrollably as the orgasm crashes through you. Waves of heat pulse around your fingers, deeper and stronger than you ever imagined.

"Fuck, don’t do this to me." His hand strokes faster until he groans and comes too, spilling over his fingers with a shaky breath.

For a moment, the room falls quiet except for your shared breathing. Jake leans in and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, his glasses tilting slightly. "Hey… you still with me? How are you feeling after that? Overwhelmed?"

You shake your head and let out a small giggle. "I’m good. Really good, actually." Reaching up, you gently fix his glasses and whisper, "Thank you for being so patient with me, Jake. I know this is probably weird for you too."

He smiles, and it makes you smile back naturally. "It’s not weird. At least not with you. Honestly, seeing you like that… it was beautiful. You’re beautiful." He leans in and kisses your forehead, then your cheek, giving you time to calm down while his hand rests on your hip and his thumb draws slow circles on your skin. "If you want to keep going, I’m right here."

You bite your lip, the mix of nerves and curiosity warms your body all over again. This is supposed to be practice — each new sensation is another skill you’re learning — but right now, with him, it feels like something more.

"I want more," you admit, cheeks burning. "Can you… use your mouth on me? I’ve heard it feels really good, but I don’t know what to expect."

Jake’s eyes widen for half a second. "Yeah, I’d love to do that for you." He moves carefully on the bed, helping you adjust the pillows behind your head so you’re comfortable. "Just relax and tell me what feels good, okay? If anything is too much or not enough, say so. Promise?"

"Promise." You extend your pinky toward him and he does the same, linking them together to seal the promise.

He starts with soft kisses on the inside of your knee, then higher up your thigh. Every touch of his lips sends shivers across your skin. "Your legs are already shaking," he murmurs with a low chuckle against your thigh. "That’s so cute."

When his mouth finally reaches your center, it’s feather-light at first — just his lips brushing against your folds — but it’s enough to make you draw in a sharp breath and grip the sheets tightly.

Then his warm tongue drags upward in one long, torturous lick from your entrance all the way to your clit. The feeling is wet, hot, and incredibly intimate, the texture of his tongue adds a new layer of friction that makes your hips jerk involuntarily.

"My God, Jake…" The words slip out before you can stop them.

"Good?" he asks, pulling back just enough for you to see his glistening lips as he looks up at you.

"Yes… really good. Do that again, please."

With more confidence this time, he explores every inch of you — licking along your folds, circling your clit, then moving down to taste your entrance. The wet sounds of him pleasuring you only heighten the arousal building in your belly.

Jake hums in satisfaction as he finds the rhythm you like best, reading it from your moans. "You taste incredible… so hot and wet."

You reach down and thread your fingers through his soft hair. "Right there, when you suck on my clit, it feels so good."

He listens immediately, sealing his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and applying gentle suction while his tongue flicks against it, making the pleasure intensify, stronger than before.

The smooth glide of his tongue, the occasional careful graze of his teeth, and the way he alternates between lavishing attention on your clit and licking down to dip inside you make heat spread through your core — it radiates outward until even your fingertips feel warm. You grow even wetter, and Jake groans in appreciation, licking up every drop like he can’t get enough.

"Jake, I think I’m getting close again," you gasp, your voice breaking into a loud moan as he sucks harder on your clit. Your hips move against his face instinctively, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he doubles down with his tongue. This orgasm builds differently — deeper, more overwhelming — and when it crashes over you, it hits with a full-body shudder.

You cry out his name, fingers tightening in his hair as waves of pleasure pulse through your center. Jake keeps licking you through it all, drawing out every tremor until you’re panting and oversensitive.

He finally lifts his head, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand before leaning over you again. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes shine behind his glasses, and a proud little smile plays on his lips. "You okay? That looked like it felt really good."

You laugh breathlessly. "It was incredible… I didn’t know I could feel so sensitive down there."

Jake chuckles softly. "Good. That’s kind of the point of all this practice, right? Learning what you like." His hand slides over your body again, stopping just above your mound as his fingers trace lazy patterns across your skin. "Are you sure you want me to take your virginity? Your body’s already experienced so much tonight. Maybe you need a break."

You shake your head, caressing his face. "I don’t need a break. I just want to feel your cock inside me, please."

One of his hands drifts lower until his fingers reach your wet entrance, circling it slowly. "I need to make sure you’re ready for me. I don’t want to hurt you. Relax and breathe out for me."

You do as he says, and he slowly presses two fingers inside you.

His longer fingers create a different sensation. The stretch borders on discomfort at first, making your walls clench tightly around the intrusion. "Ah— it’s tight," you whisper, gripping his shoulder. "It burns a little."

Jake freezes immediately. "Want me to stop? We can wait."

"No! Keep going. I want to get used to it."

He nods and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "You’re doing so well… so warm and snug around my fingers. What if I curl them just a little?" He demonstrates, stroking your inner walls gently until he brushes against a spongy spot that sends sparks shooting up your spine.

"Oh!" Your eyes widen. "Right there… my God, that feels so good."

"I found your g-spot," he says, clearly proud of himself. He keeps the movements shallow and slow, pumping his fingers in and out while his thumb draws gentle circles over your clit. The initial burning fades, turning into something hotter, slicker, and far more pleasurable.

"Add another one, Jake," you say after a few minutes, voice breathless. "I think I can take it."

Jake carefully slides a third finger in, the pressure increases and your walls flutter as they adjust to the stretch. Every curl of his fingers against that perfect spot sends waves of pleasure through your entire body, while his thumb on your clit keeps the arousal building higher.

"Talk to me, babe," he says, eyes fixed on your face. "How does it feel now? Too much?"

"It’s full… stretching me," you moan, your hips starting to move in time with his hand. "But it’s turning into something really good. Faster on my clit— yes, like that. God, Jake, your fingers are so deep."

He picks up the pace a little, thrusting more firmly and creating an overwhelming sensation in the best way possible. The pleasure keeps intensifying until your breathing comes in short gasps and your thighs tremble uncontrollably. "I’m getting close again. Please don’t stop."

Jake leans down to kiss your stomach, murmuring encouragement. "Come on, come on my fingers. Let go for me, babe."

You moan loudly, back arching as the orgasm hits you harder than the ones before. A deep wave crashes through you, making your inner walls clench rhythmically around his fingers. Jake keeps pumping slowly and carefully until the spasms ease, then gently pulls his fingers out and brings them to his mouth. "Your taste is addictive."

Smiling you reach up to brush a messy strand of hair from his forehead. "Jake… I want to go all the way. I want to feel you inside me, please."

Jake’s breath catches, then he sits up properly and reaches into the nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom.

"You actually have these," you say with a light teasing note in your voice.

He looks at you with a shy smile as he opens the packet and rolls the condom down his length. "Hey, Heeseung isn’t the only one on campus who has sex, you know? A guy can be prepared even if he’s not out at every party." Jake hovers over you, supporting his weight on his elbows so he doesn’t crush you. "You look so beautiful like this," he whispers, leaning closer and gazing at your lips.

"Can I?" When you nod, he captures your mouth in a slow, deep kiss filled with desire. His lips move to your cheek, your jaw, and then trail softly down the side of your neck, leaving a wet path that makes you shiver. He takes his time, giving attention to every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth and fingers. Only when both of you are breathing heavier does he settle between your legs and position himself.

"Breathe with me, okay? Slow and easy." You nod, inhaling as he begins to push inside.

The initial pressure is intense — a wide, stretching fullness that makes your breath hitch. Your walls stretch around his thickness in an overwhelming way and your body tenses as he sinks into you inch by inch, giving you time to adjust. "Oh my God…"

Jake stops immediately. "Hey, hey… look at me," he says, his voice full of concern. He kisses you softly on the lips, then your nose and forehead. "Is it too much? We can wait. I hate the idea of hurting you, even for a second."

You shake your head and take a deep breath, trying to ease the discomfort. "It’s a lot… really full and there’s some burning, but I want this."

To distract you from the stretch and help your body relax around him, he kisses you again. It works — the pain slowly turns into pressure, and then into something hotter and more intimate. "Okay, you can move a little more now."

Jake slides forward inch by inch until he’s fully inside you — every part of him is wrapped tightly in your heat, making you feel so connected, so completely filled, with a pleasant throbbing where your bodies meet.

"God… you feel incredible," he breathes, staying still for a moment while buried deep inside you. He covers you with more kisses. "So warm and tight around me. Tell me how you feel, babe."

"Full," you sigh. "So deep… it’s starting to feel really good."

Smiling against your skin, he begins rocking his hips in small, gentle movements. Each shallow thrust glides along your inner walls, brushing that sensitive spot and sending sparks of pleasure through your whole body. Jake keeps his eyes on yours, watching carefully for any sign of discomfort.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer. "More kisses," you whisper softly, and he gives them freely — deep, passionate kisses that match the slow rhythm of his hips. His hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers beside your head as he sinks a little deeper and a little firmer. The pleasure builds gradually, a warm wave spreading from your center outward.

"You’re doing so well," he praises between kisses, his voice full of affection. "Look at you… my best friend, letting me do this. You feel perfect, so hot and slick around my cock." His free hand caresses your breast through your tank top, his thumb brushing your nipple in time with his movements, pulling more moans from you.

"Faster… just a little," you ask, voice breaking. "I want to feel more."

Jake obeys, finding a slow but steady rhythm that lets every thrust fill you completely, the head of his cock brushing that sweet spot over and over again. "Does this feel good for you too?" you ask between moans, wanting to make sure he’s enjoying it.

"God, yes," he groans. "You’re squeezing me so tight, but right now it’s all about you. I want you to come like this if you can."

You roll your hips to meet his thrusts, learning the rhythm and experimenting with how it feels to clench around him. Jake’s glasses are completely fogged up and slipping down his nose, he pauses just long enough to take them off and set them aside, then kisses you deeply as he resumes his movements.

"I’m getting there," you moan against his mouth. "Please don’t stop, Jake."

"I’ve got you." He shifts slightly, sliding one hand between your bodies to rub gentle circles over your clit. The extra stimulation pushes you right over the edge. Your walls flutter and clench hard around his cock as the orgasm crashes through you. You moan loudly, nails digging into his back while your body pulses around him.

Jake keeps thrusting softly through your climax, murmuring praises. "That’s it… so good. You’re incredible." Only when you start to come down does he let himself go. His hips snap a few more times before he buries himself deep and comes with a low, shaky groan, filling the condom.

For a long moment afterward, he stays inside you while both of you catch your breath. Then he pulls out carefully, discards the condom, and cleans you both with a warm cloth from the bathroom. "You okay?" he asks, his voice soft and full of concern. "No pain? I tried to be as gentle as possible."

You snuggle into the sheets, feeling a pleasant soreness between your legs and a deep sense of satisfaction. "I’m perfect. A little sore, but in a good way. You made my first time really special, Jake. You’re the best friend I could ask for."

The next morning, you wake up in his bed. The ache between your legs reminds you of everything — the careful way he touched you, the gentle thrusts, the tender kisses. It had all been perfect for your first time.

But as you slip out of bed carefully so you don’t wake him, a realization settles in your mind. It wasn’t enough. Not for what you really want.

Heeseung isn’t gentle. From the rumors, girls get pinned against walls, left breathless and marked. He likes control, intensity, rough hands. Jake would never give you that, even if you begged. He’s your best friend who worries about every little sound you make. He would never push your limits the way you suspect Heeseung would.

You also need to practice that side — the rougher kind of sex that leaves you deliciously sore, the kind that teaches you how to take and give back. You can’t show up to Heeseung soft and inexperienced if you want to stand out, if you want him to crave you for more than one night.

So you leave Jake a note on his desk. "Thank you for last night. Let’s talk soon," and head back to your dorm with a new determination.

────────

That weekend, the hockey team is throwing a big party at their off-campus house — an event that always draws a different crowd from the basketball scene. There’s no explosive feud between the teams, just a quiet rivalry and enough tension that basketball players rarely show up at hockey parties and vice versa. It’s perfect. No chance of running into Heeseung or his circle, and you need that space to level up without any complications.

You take extra time getting ready because you want to be noticed. You choose a short black dress that hugs your curves, the hem riding high on your thighs. It’s simple but dangerous — low neckline, thin straps, the kind of outfit that makes you feel powerful when you look in the mirror. You add a bit more makeup than usual, nothing too dramatic, and slip into heels that make your legs look longer.

The hockey house is already packed when you arrive. Hockey players in their varsity jackets, girls in tight dresses, and red solo cups everywhere. You grab a drink and wander through the crowd, heart racing with anticipation.

That’s when you see him.

Sunghoon, the captain of the hockey team, is standing near the kitchen island, leaning against the counter like he owns the place — and he does. He has a cold, almost untouchable aura that makes people shiver when he walks by. His teammates laugh around him, but he only offers a slight, distant smile, like he’s above it all.

Your eyes meet across the room and he doesn’t look away. Instead, his gaze slowly travels down your body, taking in the dress you chose so carefully, before returning to your face. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips — not warm like Jake’s, but something sharper, more predatory. It sends a shiver down your spine.

You don’t look away either. After all, that’s exactly why you came.

He pushes off the counter and makes his way through the crowd toward you. The suffocating tension hits you the second he stops right in front of you, like all the air has been sucked out of the room. "You don’t usually come to our parties," he says, his voice low as he tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he’s already halfway to solving. "Or are you from the basketball crowd, doll?"

You take a sip of your drink to steady yourself. "Maybe I was waiting for the right night… Plus, hockey parties have a certain reputation."

A faint smile tugs at his lips as he steps a little closer, invading your space enough to make your pulse race. "Reputation for what, exactly?" He’s so close now that you can smell his cologne — something fresh and expensive that makes your head spin.

You shrug, trying to look calm. "Good music, strong drinks… You’re Sunghoon, right? The captain of the team. I’ve heard a lot about you." The words come out bolder than you expected, but they hit something in him and his gaze darkens.

He raises a thick eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest, making his impressively attractive biceps stand out. "I hope they’re good things."

You smile slightly. "Depends on who you ask. Some say you’re intense. Others say you’re… hard to keep up with."

Sunghoon studies you like he’s deciding something. The air between you grows heavier, and you can feel the pull — the way his eyes drop to your mouth, then lower, before sliding back up. "And what do you think? Do you think you could keep up?"

The question makes your breath hitch. "I think it depends," you reply, taking a small step closer, letting the tension build until it feels almost unbearable. "Are you offering to find out?"

He leans in even closer, his lips hovering near your ear so only you can hear him, his warm breath brushing your skin and sending shivers down your spine. "Careful. Talking like that might get you more than you bargained for."

You turn your head just enough that your cheeks nearly touch. "Maybe that’s exactly what I’m looking for."

His hand settles on your lower back, firm and guiding, pulling you subtly closer. "Come upstairs with me," he says, his voice steady as he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again. "There’s a room up there. Quieter. We can… talk more."

This is it — the next step.

You nod, letting him guide you through the crowd toward the stairs with his hand still resting on your back as you climb the steps.

The door clicks softly shut behind you, and the room instantly feels much quieter than the chaos downstairs, lit only by the soft glow coming through the open window. Sunghoon leans back against the door without saying a word, simply watching you with a playful smile on his lips.

"So," he begins softly, pushing away from the door and walking toward you, "you showed up at a hockey party dressed like that, with your eyes on the captain. You’re either really brave or really curious. Which one is it?"

"Maybe both."

Your back hits the wall before you even realize you’ve been moving backward. "Bold. I like that, I don’t waste time with girls who don’t know what they want." He towers over you, his presence intense and dominant.

You swallow hard. "I know exactly what I want tonight. Someone who won’t hold back."

He leans in closer, one hand settling on your hip, fingers pressing firmly enough for you to feel his strength. "Careful what you wish for… You look like the type who melts easily, and I think I’d really enjoy finding out."

His gaze drops to your mouth, then returns to your eyes, dark and hungry. Without another word, his lips crash against yours in a deep, overwhelming kiss right from the first second. Sunghoon doesn’t take it slow like Jake — he claims your mouth completely, his tongue sliding against yours with raw intensity while his free hand moves up to caress the back of your neck, tilting your head exactly the way he wants.

You try to match the intensity of his kiss, but it’s overwhelming — he devours every sigh and gasp that escapes you. When he finally pulls back enough for you to breathe, his eyes are darker, his lips slightly swollen. "Not bad," he murmurs, voice rough. "But you can do better, doll."

Before you can respond, he kisses you again, slower this time, pressing his body against yours so you can feel the hard line of his cock straining through his jeans. Your stomach tightens with a mix of nerves and excitement.

"Come here." He takes your hand and guides you away from the wall toward the bed. Sitting on the edge, he pulls you close until you’re straddling his lap, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his thighs, your dress riding up as you settle against him.

He pulls you into another deep kiss while one hand slides up your body and the other grips your thigh. You rock lightly in his lap, feeling him grow even harder beneath you, and he lets out a low groan into your mouth. "You’re so fucking hot. I want to see what else that pretty mouth can do." His fingers trace your jaw, thumb brushing over your lower lip. "Get on your knees for me. Show me what that mouth is capable of."

Your heart stutters because his words hit you hard — part excitement, part panic. On your knees. Sucking him. You’ve never given a blowjob before.

You slide slowly off Sunghoon’s lap and drop to your knees, your hands shaking as you reach for the button of his jeans and try to pull down the zipper. Reality crashes over you: you’re on your knees for the hockey team captain, about to give him head with zero experience.

His eyes narrow the moment he notices the tremor in your hands and the hesitation in your movements. A low, cruel, mocking laugh escapes him. "Wait." He reaches down, gripping your chin with two fingers, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "You’ve never done this before, have you?"

Biting your lip, you shake your head. "No… I’ve never done it."

Sunghoon’s expression doesn’t soften with pity. Instead, it sharpens with something darker — satisfaction mixed with pure control. He releases your chin and leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, looking down at you like you’re a player who needs to learn the drill.

"Good, I like honesty. So you’re going to listen carefully. I’m not in the mood for guessing games tonight. You want to learn? I’ll teach you, and you follow my instructions. Got it, dol?"

You swallow hard and nod again.

"Words," he commands, cold and firm. "Use your words when I ask you something."

"Yes," you repeat, your voice steadier this time. "I understand."

He gives a small nod of approval. "Good girl. Now unzip me."

You obey, slowly pulling the zipper down. Sunghoon lifts his hips slightly to help you tug his jeans and boxers low enough to free his cock. It springs out, hard and heavy, the tip already glistening with precum.

His hand rests on the back of your neck, not pushing, but guiding. "Look up at me when I’m talking to you. Don’t just stare at it like you’re lost. Wrap your hand around the base and feel the weight."

Your fingers are still trembling as you obey, curling them around his thick length. He feels incredibly warm and heavy in your palm, the skin smooth over steel. You give an experimental squeeze, watching his reaction.

"Yes, just like that," he praises coolly, like he’s directing a teammate on the ice. "Now stroke up and down. Keep a firm grip. That’s it— good. Don’t be shy."

You pump your hand firmly, finding a rhythm that makes Sunghoon’s breathing grow a little deeper, but he keeps complete control, his eyes locked on you the entire time. "Spit on it, get it nice and wet. Good girls make it sloppy."

You gather saliva and let it drip onto the head, using your hand to spread it all over his length. The wet sounds that follow make your face burn even hotter, but the way his cock twitches in your grip sends a shiver through you.

His fingers twist into your hair with enough force for you to feel it, then he pulls you closer to his throbbing length. "Now use your mouth. Start with the head, wrap your lips around it, no teeth. Suck gently while you swirl your tongue."

Your heart races as you wrap your lips around the tip, tasting a man’s cock for the first time — slightly salty, but surprisingly good. Your tongue moves in slow, hesitant circles, trying to find the rhythm you think will feel best for him.

"Eyes up," he orders sharply. "Look at me while you do it. That’s good, but take me deeper now. Relax your throat, don’t force it. Move your head slowly and keep stroking the part you can’t reach."

You open wider and take him deeper. It feels strange at first — the stretch of your jaw, the way he fills your mouth, the occasional gag when you go too far, causing tears to gather at the corners of your eyes.

"Relax your jaw and breathe through your nose. Faster with your tongue on the underside. Use your hand in sync with your mouth."

You follow every instruction carefully, the clear commands making it easier despite your inexperience. The room fills with wet, obscene sounds as your mouth works on him — licking, sucking, and your hand sliding smoothly along his cock. Sunghoon’s thighs tense under your free hand, and his voice grows a little rougher, though still tightly controlled. "Hollow your cheeks more when you pull back. Take me deeper whenever you can, I want to feel the back of your throat."

Pushing yourself, you take him deeper until your nose brushes his stomach, triggering a light gag. You try to hold it, but end up sliding back up, gasping for air. A thick string of saliva connects his cock to your mouth, and his grip tightens in your hair, the slight sting only heightening the moment.

"Not bad for your first time. Now focus on the head again. Suck harder while you move faster. Yeah— just like that. You’re gonna make me come if you keep going."

You throw yourself into it completely, determined to get better so you can do this perfectly for Heeseung one day. Your hand and mouth work together, faster and sloppier now, until Sunghoon’s breathing turns heavier and his abs tighten visibly.

"Fuck— keep your eyes on me," he growls, his voice dropping lower. "I’m close. When I come, you swallow. Every drop. Understand, doll?"

You murmur something unintelligible around him, the vibration drawing a low groan from deep in his throat. His hand guides you with a little more firmness now as his hips begin to rock, meeting your mouth with each movement. His dominance is intoxicating — no endless questions, no overthinking, just clear and commanding direction that pushes you exactly where he wants you.

With one last deep thrust into your mouth and a low groan, he comes. Hot spurts hit the back of your throat as you swallow desperately, trying not to gag while you take everything he gives you, your hand still gently stroking him through it.

Sunghoon holds you there for a few more seconds before finally releasing your hair and letting you pull back. You release his cock with a wet pop, your lips swollen and glistening. He looks down at you with that same cool satisfaction, his thumb brushing a stray string of saliva from your chin. "Clean every inch with your tongue."

You nod and obey, licking him carefully with slow, deliberate strokes of your tongue until he’s completely clean.

"Good," he says, his voice satisfied. "Now come here."

He pulls you up from your knees and back onto his lap, guiding you into a deep kiss that’s slower and less aggressive than the one against the wall, yet still possessive. His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting himself on you, letting out a soft groan against your lips.

"You did well for your first time," he praises quietly as he pulls back, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. "A little messy, but eager. I like that. You look even better with that flushed face after sucking me off, doll."

The praise sends a warm flutter through your stomach, and before you can respond, Sunghoon moves, flipping you onto your back on the bed. He hovers over you, one hand braced beside your head while the other slides up your thigh, pushing your dress higher. "You’ve never sucked a cock before… so I’m going to ask. Are you a virgin?"

You shake your head quickly. "No, I’m not."

A flash of relief crosses his face, quickly replaced by a darker, almost predatory smile. "Good. That’s actually perfect. It means I don’t have to be gentle with you." His hand glides along your inner thigh, spreading your legs apart. "I hate holding back."

Two of his long fingers press against your entrance, finding you already soaked from everything that’s happened. He pushes your panties aside and slides them inside you in one smooth motion. His fingers are noticeably longer than Jake’s, reaching places that instantly make your breath hitch.

"Fuck, you’re so tight. You sure you’re not a virgin, doll? Because you’re squeezing me like one." He starts moving right away, no slow buildup, no endless questions about how you feel, just his fingers thrusting in a steady rhythm — faster and deeper — while his thumb rubs firm circles over your clit.

You gasp, arching your back off the bed as his long fingers reach so deep that they stroke that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust. "Sunghoon—" you moan, clutching his shoulders.

"Eyes on me." His free hand pins your wrists above your head while the other moves faster, scissoring his fingers to stretch you further. He watches every reaction on your face, adjusting the intensity until you’re writhing beneath him. "You’re already soaking my hand, doll. Come on, let me feel you come around my fingers."

He adds a third finger, pushing deeper and curling harder against that spot while his thumb presses firmer circles on your clit. The combination is overwhelming — fast, deep strokes that tighten the pleasure in your core until your thighs start trembling around his hand.

"I… oh God…" Your words dissolve into a moan as the orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clench hard around his fingers, pulsing with every wave, but Sunghoon doesn’t slow down, he keeps going until you’re shaking and gasping, hypersensitive and completely spent.

Only then does he pull his fingers out, bringing them to his lips for a quick taste while he looks down at you with dark satisfaction. "You taste so good, doll."

Without wasting another second, he shoves the rest of his pants and boxers down and climbs fully on top of you. "Arms up." You lift them without hesitation and he pulls your dress off, tossing it aside somewhere in the room. Your bra follows immediately, exposing your breasts to the cool air. In the same motion, he squeezes one firmly, his thumb brushing over your nipple until it hardens, then leans down to suck it, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp.

"These are perfect," he murmurs against your skin before moving to the other. His free hand yanks your panties down your legs in one swift pull, leaving you completely naked beneath him. Sunghoon sits back for a moment, his eyes slowly roaming over your bare body with cool appreciation. "Perfect. You’re perfect, doll."

He positions himself between your spread thighs, one hand gripping your hip while the other guides his cock to your entrance. Only then do you realize there’s no condom. This is going to be the first time you feel someone raw. "Wait, Sunghoon…"

"I’m clean," he says dryly, reading your hesitation perfectly. "We’re good." He doesn’t say anything else, simply pushing forward and sinking the thick head of his cock into you with one precise thrust.

With no latex barrier, you feel every inch of him — hot, hard, and completely bare. The stretch is more intense than it was with Jake, deeper and fuller in a way that makes your walls flutter and clench tightly around him. A low moan escapes you as he sinks even deeper, filling you completely until his hips press flush against yours.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Sunghoon groans, closing his eyes for a brief second before locking his gaze on your face again. He doesn’t give you much time to adjust, starting to move with long, deep strokes that brush every sensitive spot inside you while he watches your every reaction, every gasp, fucking you with firm control.

You grab onto his arms, your nails digging crescent moons into his skin. "Sunghoon… it’s so deep like this." Every thrust knocks the air out of your lungs.

He kisses you hard again, swallowing your moans as his hips snap forward faster, growing more intense. The pleasure feels stronger than your first time because there’s nothing between you, but after a few minutes, Sunghoon suddenly pulls out, leaving you empty and whimpering.

"On your knees. Face down, ass up," he orders. "I need to go deeper. I want to watch this ass bounce while I fuck you stupid."

You get on all fours, feeling incredibly exposed with your ass up and back arched. The vulnerability of this new position you’ve never tried before sends a fresh wave of nerves through you. Sunghoon kneels behind you, his hands spreading your cheeks slightly as he lines himself up again.

He thrusts into you hard, burying himself to the hilt in a single stroke. The new angle lets him go incredibly deeper, the head of his cock pressing against spots you didn’t even know existed. You cry out, fingers clutching the sheets tightly. "Oh my God, it’s so much deeper like this."

Sunghoon groans in satisfaction. "That’s exactly what I wanted." His hands grip your hips firmly as he starts fucking you with more intensity. His thrusts are relentless, hips snapping forward with a force that makes your entire body shake.

One hand slides up your back and fists in your hair, pulling your head back sharply and arching you even more. "Fuck, look at you taking it so well like this."

His other hand comes down hard on your ass, a firm slap that makes the flesh jiggle and sting deliciously, drawing a loud moan from you. He spanks the other cheek, then again, alternating while he keeps pounding into you.

Without a condom, you feel every vein, every ridge, the way his cock stretches and fills you completely with every powerful thrust. "This ass looks even better when it’s moving for me," he says, landing another harder slap. Your arms tremble, barely able to hold you up as the pleasure builds hotter and tighter in your core. "You’re clenching so fucking hard. You like it rough like this, don’t you?"

"Yes," you moan, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. "Harder, please."

He obeys without hesitation, fucking you with punishing force that makes the bed creak beneath you and his balls slap against you with every deep stroke. "Touch yourself, rub your clit while I fuck you."

You slide a hand between your legs, circling your swollen clit. Another sharp slap lands on your ass, the sting spreading hot across your skin and making you clench hard around him. "Fuck, do that again, doll." He delivers one more firm spank, then squeezes the reddened flesh possessively. "You’re dripping all over my cock, soaking the sheets like a good girl."

His words, combined with the relentless rhythm, the sharp tugs on your hair, the stinging slaps, and the overwhelming depth of this position, push you straight over the edge. Your orgasm hits hard, your walls pulsing and contracting tightly around his bare cock as waves of pleasure crash through you. You moan loudly into the mattress, your whole body shaking.

Sunghoon doesn’t slow down at all — he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, chasing his own. "I’m gonna come," he growls. After a few more deep, powerful thrusts, he buries himself to the hilt and groans as he fills you with hot pulses of cum, spilling deep inside you for the first time. The sensation is new and overwhelming — warm, wet, and so intimately raw that it makes your mind spin.

Sunghoon collapses beside you on the bed and pulls you against his chest, lazily stroking your back. "You should come to our parties more often. Those basketball idiots don’t deserve someone like you at their parties."

────────

Not everything is about the plan. After all, you are still in college — assignments pile up and deadlines approach without caring about your personal obsessions. When the professor pairs you with Jay for the next project, you don’t think much of it, you just need to finish the work as quickly as possible so you can get back to your plan.

The second-floor library was strangely quiet that night. Most students have already left, and the few who remain are buried in their books. You and Jay sit at a secluded table in a corner, surrounded by tall bookshelves that give you a sense of privacy.

Jay sits across from you, looking effortlessly attractive in a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his veiny forearms. You’ve been discussing the project for nearly an hour, but the conversation slowly drifts away from the assignment and becomes more personal.

"You always seem so put-together," you say with a small smile. "Even during finals week. How do you do it?"

Jay chuckles softly, leaning back in his chair. "Coffee. A lot of coffee… You’ve been glowing lately. There’s a new confidence in class. It looks good on you."

Your cheeks flush slightly. "Thank you. I’ve been pushing myself out of my comfort zone lately."

"I noticed and it’s honestly really attractive." The compliment is light, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. Jay’s voice drops lower as he continues. "You know, it’s easy to talk to you… and easy to look at, too."

You laugh, quickly glancing around to make sure no one is nearby. "You’re not bad yourself. Always so polite and charming... It’s kind of dangerous."

His smile widens, and then he reaches across the table, lightly brushing his fingers against yours. The touch is gentle but sends a spark through you, making the library feel even quieter now, like the rest of the world has disappeared and only the two of you remain behind the shelves.

Before you can overthink it, Jay leans forward over the table. "Come here."

You meet him halfway, and the kiss starts soft and sweet at first — a gentle brush of lips that quickly deepens as he tilts his head. Jay kisses with care and skill, one hand gently cupping your cheek while the other rests on the table for balance. It feels good, warm, and surprisingly right.

When he finally pulls back, breathing a little faster, he whispers. "No one’s around… Come sit with me."

He gently pulls you around the table and onto his lap. Your legs part over his thighs, the skirt riding up as he settles you against him and wraps one arm securely around your waist.

"Jay," a nervous laugh escapes you as you glance at the shelves surrounding you. "We’re in the library… Someone could walk by any second."

"It’s okay," his hand traces slow circles on your lower back while the other rests on your thigh. "Look around, it’s almost empty, and the shelves block most of the view." He leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, then along your jaw. "We’ll be quiet. I just want to be close to you for a little while… if you’re okay with it."

Sitting on his lap like this in a public place feels incredibly bold, but Jay’s gentle confidence makes your hesitation melt away. "It’s okay," he whispers, kissing you again, slower this time. "Just relax. It’s just us right now."

You kiss him back, and it doesn’t take long for your hips to start moving almost on their own, grinding against the growing bulge in his jeans. The friction feels good even through your clothes — a slow, delicious rhythm that builds heat between your legs. Jay lets out a low hum of approval against your mouth, his hand squeezing your thigh encouragingly.

"That’s good… really good." His hips continue moving in deliberate circles, letting you feel him hardening beneath you — the thick outline pressing right against your core.

The kiss deepens as he traces your lower lip with his tongue, seeking entrance, and you open for him. "Yeah… keep doing that." One of his hands slides up to your cheek, tenderly stroking it with his thumb, while the other guides your hips, helping you find a rhythm that feels even better. "You’re driving me crazy doing this… it feels so good."

Jay pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again, his gaze is dark with desire but still incredibly gentle. "Do you want to do this here?" he asks, thumb caressing your hip. "We don’t have to… but if you’re comfortable, I need you right now."

You quickly glance around — there’s still no one nearby. "Yes." The certainty in your voice surprises even you. "I want to."

He pulls you into another kiss, deep and reassuring, before reaching between your bodies to push his pants and underwear down just enough to free himself. His cock springs out — long and incredibly thick, the head flushed red and already glistening. It’s bigger than you expected, heavy, with prominent veins.

Your eyes widen in surprise and nervousness. "Jay… you’re really big. I don’t know if I can take all of that."

He cups your face with both hands, noticing your nerves. "Hey… look at me. We don’t have to rush anything, and if it’s too much, we stop, I promise." A soft, caring expression takes over as thumbs gently stroke your cheeks. "We’ll go really slow… I’ll make sure it feels good for you."

You nod, biting your lower lip. "Okay. I trust you."

One hand stays on your waist while the other guides his thick cock, rubbing the head against your soaked panties, teasing your entrance through the fabric. "Move your panties to the side for me."

With trembling hands, you hook your fingers under the fabric and pull it aside. The cool air hits your wet folds, making you shiver. Jay helps by tugging your skirt up until it’s bunched around your waist. Only then does he position himself at your entrance — the blunt head of his cock brushing against your slick pussy. "When you’re ready."

You take a deep breath and start sinking down, the stretch is immediate and intense — almost too much. His thickness slowly pushes your walls apart as you lower yourself, inch by inch. A soft moan escapes your lips from the burning sensation and the way he fills you so completely. It’s deeper than anything you’ve felt before, his huge size presses against every sensitive spot inside you.

Jay groans, tilting his head back for a moment. "Fuck… you’re so tight. Take it slow, angel. You’re doing so well."

You pause halfway, breathing deeply to ease the burning feeling. It’s almost uncomfortable, but the raw heat of him, bare and deep, sends sparks of pleasure through the stretch. Determined, you continue lowering yourself until you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried to the hilt inside you, your walls fluttering as they try to adjust to his enormous length.

For a few seconds, you stay still, adjusting to the feeling of his cock pulsing deep inside you. Jay’s arms wrap around you, holding you close as his lips brush your temple. "You’re perfect, angel. Taking me so well... Tell me when you want to move."

You start experimenting, at first moving simply — rising and sinking as you’ve seen in porn videos. The motion drags him along your walls, creating delicious friction, but it feels a little awkward. It feels good for him, his groans make that clear, but it isn’t quite hitting the right spots for you.

"This is incredible," he says honestly. "But I want you to feel good too. You don’t have to just go up and down. Grind on me… roll your hips in circles, and when you bounce, use your whole body. Let me guide you, angel."

He gently guides you with his hands on your hips, and you follow, shifting from simple up and down movements to a smooth, rolling grind. The change is instant — his thick cock now rubs perfectly against your front wall, pressing hard into that sensitive spot with every circle of your hips, making a sharp moan escape you. "Yes, just like that. Feel how deep I am when you roll your hips? Now try bouncing while you do that."

You combine the movements — lifting and dropping while rolling your hips on the way down. Each bounce takes him incredibly deep, his cockhead dragging against places that make your toes curl. The stretch remains intense because he’s almost too big, creating a delicious burn.

Jay groans louder, and one hand slides up to cradle the back of your neck as he kisses you again. "Yes… fuck, you’re riding me so well. Look at you, angel." His other hand stays on your hip, guiding you to bounce harder.

The praise makes you bolder. You brace your hands on his shoulders for balance and start bouncing faster, moving up and down while grinding. Jay is so big that you can feel his cock reaching deep into your stomach, creating a profound pressure that makes your head spin.

Your newfound confidence makes him throb inside you as Jay starts thrusting up to meet you, the added force sending waves of pleasure through your core. "Deeper… like this," you moan.

Jay’s hands roam all over your body — squeezing your ass, caressing your breasts over your shirt, pulling you down for more kisses. He doesn’t take full control, letting you lead while offering guidance and praise. "That’s it… move just like that. You’re getting so wet for me. You look so beautiful riding my cock."

The pleasure builds quickly, a deep, spreading heat that consumes your entire body. You lean forward, changing the angle, and cry out when you hit an even more sensitive spot. Jay groans, holding you tighter. "Right there? Good girl. Keep going, take what you need."

You moan loudly, burying your face in his neck as the orgasm crashes through you violently. Your walls clench uncontrollably around his cock, pulsing and milking him while you keep bouncing, pushing him over the edge right after. He groans, thrusting his hips up against you as he cums deep inside, filling you with hot, thick pulses of cum.

Once you both come down, Jay lifts your chin and kisses you again, his tongue moves lazily against yours, savoring the moment. You kiss him back, feeling his cock still twitching softly inside you.

"You were incredible, angel," he whispers between kisses, smiling against your lips. "So beautiful riding me like that."

Jay’s hands run gently down your back, his gaze dropping to your chest. "Can I see more of you?"

You nod, and he doesn’t waste a single second, pulls your blouse up just enough to free your breasts. The cool air of the library makes your nipples harden instantly. "Perfect,” you sigh softly as he takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

He sucks harder, then grazes his teeth over the sensitive bud with a careful bite that makes you moan and clench around his cock, which is still buried deep inside you. Switching to the other breast, he gives it the same attention — kissing, licking, sucking, and biting. You roll your hips slowly in his lap, savoring the way his cock twitches inside you every time he sucks harder.

"You’re so sensitive here," he murmurs against your skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses between your breasts. "I could spend hours doing this."

You let out a soft, needy sound, holding his head closer to your chest as he continues marking you with his mouth — sucking hard enough to leave hickeys that will remind you of this moment later. He’s getting hard again inside you, growing thicker and longer, pressing against your sensitive walls.

"Fuck, you’re making me hard again. The way you squeeze around me while I suck on these… you’re driving me crazy." Suddenly, Jay’s arms tighten around you and, in one swift movement, he stands up.

"Jay—!" you gasp, clutching his shoulders.

"I’ve got you," he says carefully, sitting you on the edge of the table with his cock still buried deep inside you. "I need to move for a bit. Okay, angel? Tell me if it’s too much."

Before you can respond, he starts fucking you at his own pace — deep, powerful thrusts that make your body shake on the table. The angle is perfect, making his thick cock drags along every inch of your walls with each stroke.

You try to stay quiet, but the pleasure is overwhelming, and moans far too loud for the silent library keep escaping. "Ah— Jay!"

He quickly covers your mouth with his hand while continuing to thrust firmly. "Shh, angel." His hips snap forward a little harder, testing your silence. "You have to stay quiet… someone might hear."

Even with his palm muffling your sounds, the deep thrusts still pull muffled but audible moans from you. Jay glances around nervously, unsure what to do because stopping isn’t an option, so he makes a quick decision. He pulls his cock out, reaches for your panties, which was pulled to the side this whole time, tugs the wet fabric free and then he pushes it between your lips.

"I’m sorry," he whispers immediately as he slides back inside you with a deep thrust. "I hate doing this… but I don’t want us to get caught, okay?"

You nod slightly, eyes watering from the intensity, but the gag works — your next moan comes out completely muffled. "You’re being so good for me, so wet and tight." Jay returns to your breasts, sucking on one nipple while he continues fucking you senseless.

His pace quickens, hips snapping harder against yours as he tries to keep control. The risk of getting caught and the feeling of you around him push him closer to the edge. "Cum for me. I’m close too… let go, angel."

You scream into the gag, your body shaking in his arms as you cum hard, and the sensation of your walls pulsing around him sends Jay over the edge right after. He buries himself as deep as possible and cums inside you with hot, intense pulses.

Still buried inside you, he strokes your hair and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You were incredible… so responsive and beautiful."

A shy smile tugs at your lips. "You were incredible too."

He runs his thumb across your flushed cheek. "I’d love to do this again someday… if you want. Maybe somewhere more private next time, so I can take my time with you."

Biting your lower lip, you nod. "I’d like that. A lot, actually."

That night, back in your dorm, you realize something: during those hours with Jay, you didn’t think about Heeseung even once because you were completely lost in the moment — in his gentle touches, his warm voice, and the way he made you feel so good.

────────

The basketball team has just won a home game. The crowd is still roaring and the players are celebrating in the middle of the court. Sitting in the stands, you spot Ni-ki — Heeseung’s close friend and teammate. He’s younger than the others but carries himself with an easy, playful confidence.

When the court finally quiets down and the players start heading toward the locker rooms, you walk calmly through the internal hallways of the building, following the path that leads to the locker room area. To avoid being seen by Heeseung, you hide behind a pillar. From there, you have a perfect view of anyone leaving the locker room, while people passing through the hallway are unlikely to notice you.

A few minutes pass before the door opens. A group of players steps out, talking loudly, and Heeseung is right in the middle of them. You press yourself tighter against the pillar, holding your breath as he walks by, laughing at some joke.

More athletes leave after that until the hallway falls completely silent. Knowing most people have already gone and the risk of seeing Heeseung has passed, you finally step out of your hiding spot and walk to a brighter, more visible part of the corridor, right near the door.

When Ni-ki comes out, his eyes land on you almost immediately. He slows his steps, tilting his head with clear interest and a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "No way. You actually waited? Most girls chase after the captain." He stops right in front of you, looking you up and down without even trying to hide it. "Damn, you look dangerous."

You feel a flutter in your stomach but smile back at him. "I thought the guy who kept stealing the ball and grinning like he owned the court deserved some attention tonight."

Ni-ki laughs, running a hand through his damp hair. "You’re bold, huh? I like that." He steps a little closer, his eyes sparkling with playful curiosity. "So what’s your deal? Are you a basketball fan or did you just come here to make my day way more interesting?"

There’s a seductive tease in his voice — arrogant but fun. He clearly likes what he sees and isn’t shy about showing it. "Because if you’re here for me, you should probably tell me your name before I start calling you ‘mine’ in front of the whole team."

If you play this right, he might casually mention you to the team later, and Heeseung would hear your name and maybe get curious. But if you mess up and come across as too eager or awkward, Ni-ki could joke about it in the locker room and ruin everything before you even get close. Still, you trust yourself. "It’s y/n."

"y/n," he repeats, like he’s savoring the sound. "Nice. It suits you. So, y/n… do you always wait outside the locker rooms after games looking this good, or did I just get lucky today?"

"Only when the player on the court is showing off like he’s trying to impress someone."

Ni-ki moves even closer. "Ah, so you were really watching me? Careful, I might get too cocky." He tilts his head, his eyes tracing your face before dropping to your lips. "Or maybe that’s exactly what you want. To make me arrogant enough to do something about the pretty girl who showed up just for me."

His gaze continues sliding down from your lips, appreciating the way your top hugs your body. Suddenly, Ni-ki glances around, checking if anyone is nearby. The hallway is empty. Without warning, he grabs your hand with a grin. "Come with me for a second."

He pulls you into the locker room, but not near the entrance. He keeps guiding you deeper inside, past a small entryway and around the corner of the main area, where he presses your body against the wall. The tension that has been building finally snaps. Cupping your face with one hand, he kisses you with raw hunger — his lips moving against yours with confidence as his tongue teases yours, deepening the kiss almost instantly.

He pulls back just enough to breathe, a cocky little smirk on his face. "Fuck… you taste even better than I imagined."

He presses you harder against the wall and slides one thigh between your legs, creating just enough pressure to make you gasp into his mouth. "You’re so fucking addictive." His hands slip under your top, warm palms gliding over your skin and sending shivers through you.

Suddenly, Ni-ki drops to his knees in front of you, looking up with an even more mischievous smile. "I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you waiting outside." His hands move quickly, unbuttoning your jeans and tugging them down along with your panties. He lifts one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder, opening you up to him.

Ni-ki presses his mouth against your pussy like he’s starving for it — voracious and rough. His tongue licks long, wet stripes from your entrance up to your clit before swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Oh my God — Ni-ki…" you moan, one hand flying to his messy hair.

He moans against you, the vibration shooting pleasure straight up your spine. "You taste so good." His tongue dives inside you, licking and savoring every inch like he can’t get enough. Messy and eager, his lips suck on your folds before focusing back on your clit with small, hungry sucks and licks.

He eats you out like he wants to memorize every taste, every reaction — switching between long, slow licks that make your toes curl and faster movements that force you to bite your lip to stay quiet.

"Ni-ki… that feels so good." He looks up at you while his mouth works, eyes gleaming with satisfaction and desire, clearly loving the way you’re falling apart for him.

Ni-ki murmurs in response and doubles his efforts, sucking your clit into his mouth while his tongue moves fast. "Ni-ki… fuck, right there," you gasp, fingers tightening almost painfully in his hair as your hips start grinding against his face.

He slides two fingers inside you while his tongue keeps working your clit, curling them instantly against that perfect spot.

Your breathing turns ragged, your thighs trembling uncontrollably around his head. "I… I’m gonna—" you try to warn him, voice breaking, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he sucks harder on your clit and pumps his fingers faster.

Your whole body locks up for a second before a violent tremor runs through you. Your pussy clenches hard around his fingers as your clit pulses wildly against his tongue.

Ni-ki groans proudly against you, licking you through every wave, addicted to the way you fall apart. He keeps going until you’re whimpering, oversensitive and shaking. Only then does he finally pull back, lips glossy and swollen. "Shit, you come so beautifully."

He rises to his feet with a satisfied smirk and pulls you into another kiss so you can taste yourself on his tongue, his hands grip your waist, pressing your body against his. "You’re so sweet. I could eat you every day, all day long."

You open your mouth to respond, but the metallic click of the main door handle cuts through the air.

You both freeze and footsteps echo on the tiled floor, accompanied by a familiar voice humming something.

It’s Jungwon — another teammate, the point guard.

"Shit." Ni-ki quickly grabs your hand and pulls you toward the shower area with its open stalls and curtains. Yanking one curtain aside, he guides you inside, and presses your back against the cold tiled wall.

The footsteps grow louder, closer. "Hey, is anyone still in here?" Jungwon’s voice sounds casual, like he heard something and decided to check.

Ni-ki presses a finger to your lips, leaning in so close that his warm breath brushes your ear. "Don’t make a sound," he whispers, almost inaudible.

Your heart pounds hard against your ribs, but Ni-ki doesn’t seem bothered at all. In fact, the risk seems to excite him even more. Jungwon’s footsteps get closer, and right at that exact moment, Ni-ki pushes two fingers inside you without any warning. Your eyes widen and a sharp gasp almost escapes before you bite down hard on your lip.

He curls his fingers instantly, stroking that sensitive spot deep inside you with ease, a small mischievous smirk on his face as he watches your reaction. He pumps them slowly at first, then faster, while his thumb presses firmly against your swollen clit.

Trembling violently, you bury your face in his neck, desperately trying to muffle the moans threatening to spill out. "Shhh," Ni-ki whispers right against your ear, but his fingers don’t stop — deep, curling thrusts that make your knees buckle. "You’re squeezing me so tight. Does almost getting caught turn you on?"

You nod frantically and bite down on his shoulder through his shirt to stay quiet as Jungwon moves just a few meters away. Ni-ki’s thumb presses harder on your clit while his fingers thrust faster, making your thighs shake and your walls flutter uncontrollably around him as you fight to stay silent. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes from the effort.

Jungwon’s voice echoes again, closer this time. "I heard noises coming from here. Who the hell is in here?"

Noticing Jungwon getting closer, Ni-ki curls his fingers harder, rubbing your sweet spot relentlessly while his thumb works your clit in fast, precise circles. You dig your nails into his back, letting out a silent scream against his neck as pleasure peaks. Your pussy clenches violently around his fingers, dripping as waves of spasms run through you.

Finally, Jungwon’s footsteps retreat. The door opens and closes again. The second it does, Ni-ki pulls his fingers out and kisses you hard, swallowing the broken moan that finally escapes you.

Without breaking the kiss, he tugs down his basketball shorts and boxers in one quick motion, freeing his hard, thick, flushed cock. It’s already leaking at the tip from how turned on he is after eating you out and fingering you.

You reach for him without thinking — and without really knowing what you’re doing — wrapping your hand around his length and stroking slowly at first. You feel the heat and the way he pulses hot against your palm as your thumb brushes over the head, spreading the precum. "You’re so hard… I can feel how much you want this."

"Yeah? Then let me have you." He quickly helps you pull your jeans and panties all the way down your legs, kicking them aside before pressing you against the cold tiled wall of the shower stall. One hand grips your thigh as he lines himself up and with one smooth thrust, he pushes inside, burying his cock deep into your still-sensitive pussy. The stretch makes you gasp at the sudden, overwhelming fullness after everything that’s already happened.

He fucks you against the wall with firm, deep thrusts, his hips snapping forward while he holds you in place. "Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good," he groans, burying his face in your neck as he drives into you harder, each movement pressing you against the tiles. "So wet and tight."

"Ni-ki… you’re so deep," your voice trembles with pleasure as he hits that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. "Don’t stop… it feels so good."

He keeps going like that for a while, fucking you firmly against the wall with his hands gripping your ass. But soon the position isn’t enough for him, with a low grunt, he suddenly lifts you as if you weigh nothing, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist. The new angle lets him sink even deeper, and you let out a muffled cry as he starts bouncing you on his cock, thrusting up with hungry movements that make your breasts bounce inside your top.

"Yes, like that… it feels so good," you moan while he fucks you in the air, your back pressed against the wall for leverage as he holds you like you’re weightless. The sensation is intense, every thrust hits so deep it makes your head spin and your toes curl.

"Open your mouth." He brings two fingers to your lips. "Suck them for me. I want to feel that pretty mouth while I fuck you."

You part your lips obediently and take his fingers into your mouth, sucking them eagerly while he keeps thrusting into you. His cock twitches at the feeling of your warm mouth around his fingers, the taste of you still lingers on them from earlier, making you moan around them.

"That’s it," he says, eyes locked on your face as he watches you suck his fingers while bouncing you on his cock. "You look so fucking hot like this. Keep sucking just like that."

You do exactly that, swirling your tongue and sucking harder as he drives deep inside you, clearly losing himself in how good it feels.

You pull off his fingers with a wet pop and gasp, "Ni-ki… I’m so close again. I’m gonna come."

With a mischievous smirk, he pushes his fingers back into your mouth, moving them in time with his cock as he fucks you harder against the wall. "Then come for me again. I want to feel you squeezing my cock while you suck my fingers."

The dirty words combined with his relentless pace finally push you over the edge. You moan loudly around his fingers as your legs tighten around his waist. Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes through you, making your entire body shake in his arms.

Ni-ki groans at the feeling of you coming and his thrusts turn erratic. He buries himself as deep as possible and comes hard inside you, pulsing with hot spurts while holding you firmly against the wall.

After a moment, he finally lowers you gently until your feet touch the floor again, but he doesn’t pull out immediately, he stays nestled inside your heat, kissing you slowly and almost lazily, like he isn’t ready to end the moment yet. "Fuck… that was incredible. And honestly? That was the best post-game sex I’ve ever had. No joke. I’m gonna be thinking about this pussy for days."

You let out a soft giggle, cheeks burning. "Really? I don’t think I’ll be able to walk properly after this."

Surprisingly gentle, he laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek before finally pulling out slowly. Both of you hiss at the loss. "That’s actually great. Means you’ll be thinking about me too. When can we do this again? After the next game, or maybe after every practice?"

────────

​The basketball team had crushed their biggest rival that night, and the victory party at the massive off-campus house is going to be loud, chaotic, and packed with people. This is the moment you’ve been carefully preparing for with every practice session and every new experience. Tonight is the night.

You choose a bold black dress that clings to your body like a second skin, short enough to show off your legs and thighs, with a neckline that reveals just enough to be daring. Your hair is styled exactly the way you like it, and your makeup is flawless, enhancing your features in a way that makes you feel powerful. When you look in the mirror, you look like someone who belongs in Heeseung’s world.

When you arrive at the party, the music is already pulsing through the walls, bodies are moving everywhere, and the air smells like alcohol and sweat. Your eyes scan the room until they find him.

Heeseung is sitting on the large couch in the main room like he owns the place — which he basically does. Two girls are practically draped over him. One is half in his lap, her hand resting possessively on his chest, while he has one arm casually around the other girl, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her shoulder as he talks to his teammates.

Spotting Ni-ki nearby, chatting with some of the other players, you walk toward him with confident steps because you aren’t going straight to Heeseung. No — you’re going to make him come to you. Ni-ki’s eyes light up with immediate recognition and interest.

"I can’t believe you’re here," he says with a grin as he pulls you into a side hug that lasts a second longer than necessary. "You look dangerous tonight. Come here, I want you to meet some of the guys."

You laugh softly and stay close to him, letting him introduce you to some of his teammates, including Jungwon. Your cheeks heat up as you remember that moment in the locker room, and when you glance to the side, Heeseung is watching — the girls are still around him, but his eyes are locked on you, following every move you make.

Ni-ki leans in and whispers in your ear, "You know, I still can’t stop thinking about that day in the locker room. Jungwon almost catching us… My fingers buried so deep inside you while you tried so hard not to moan. I’ve been replaying that shit all week."

Your face flushes instantly and the memory makes your thighs press together in a rush of heat. "Ni-ki…" you whisper back, half embarrassed and half turned on, "you can’t just say that here."

You’re too focused on Ni-ki to notice Heeseung pushing the girl off his lap, standing up, and walking over with his usual confidence. He stops right in front of you, his gaze shifting between you and Ni-ki, who is still grinning widely.

"What’s so funny over here?" Heeseung asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "You two look like you’re sharing secrets."

You freeze for a second before answering quickly, a little too fast. "Nothing."

"Nothing? Come on. Nothing stays hidden from the captain, especially when my teammate is standing here grinning like an idiot and you’re looking all flustered." He steps closer, his full attention now on you. "Gonna tell me what got you so worked up, pretty?"

Ni-ki’s playful smile fades, replaced by something closer to jealousy as he watches the captain focus entirely on you. "We're just messing around. It's fun talking to y/n, that's all."

Heeseung looks you up and down slowly, taking in the way the dress hugs every curve of your body. "Want a drink? I can’t have you standing here empty-handed."

"Yeah… I’d like that."

Ni-ki’s jaw tightens as he glances between the two of you, clearly not happy about being sidelined, but he knows better than to push it with Heeseung. "Catch you later, y/n," he says, giving you one last look filled with a mix of jealousy and desire before disappearing into the crowd.

Now it’s just you and Heeseung.

He guides you toward the kitchen, his hand lightly brushing your lower back. “So… y/n,” he says, savoring your name like he’s testing how it feels on his tongue. "You show up at my party looking like sin, talking to my boy while wearing this little dress that makes everyone wonder what you’re hiding underneath." A mischievous smile curves his lips as his eyes flick to your mouth for a moment. "You gonna let me find out, or are you just here to tease?"

You feel yourself getting wet just from the way he’s looking at you — that hungry stare and confident tone making your panties stick to you. "Talking about what I’m hiding under this dress already? We just got to the kitchen… but yeah, I might let you discover it." Your voice comes out bold because you refuse to sound nervous now, after waiting so long for this moment.

Deep down, all you can think about is how badly you want him to stop talking and just fuck you senseless.

Heeseung’s smile deepens, a flash of satisfaction crossing his face. He glances around to make sure no one is paying too much attention, then leans in even closer, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks. "There’s an empty room upstairs. Third door on the left, go up in a few minutes. I’ll follow right after so no one notices."

He pulls back, sliding his hand slowly along your waist before disappearing into the crowd. You wait a few minutes, taking a sip of your drink to calm your nerves, but it barely helps — the ache between your legs only grows with every passing second. After exactly five minutes, you head up the stairs and find the third door already slightly ajar. You step inside with shaky, anticipatory breaths.

Moments later, Heeseung appears. He closes the door firmly behind him and locks it.

The second the lock clicks, he’s on you.

There’s nothing gentle about the way his mouth crashes against yours in a hungry, intense kiss. He bites your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth before sucking it into his mouth, then does it again harder just to hear you whimper.

His hands slide down to grip your ass firmly under the dress, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls you flush against him, letting you feel the hard outline of his cock through his pants.

"Fuck, this ass feels even better than it looks in that dress," he growls against your mouth, squeezing harder and spreading your cheeks. The kiss deepens, his tongue dominating yours while he continues kneading and groping your ass like he can’t get enough.

Heeseung’s mischievous smirk returns when he hears you moan into the kiss. He doesn’t break it as he walks you backward toward the bed. When the back of your knees hit the mattress, he pushes you down and climbs on top of you.

A string of saliva connects his lips to yours when he pulls back to strip your dress off in one quick motion, leaving you in just your bra and panties, his eyes darkening with lust as he takes in every inch of your body.

"Look at you… such a pretty little slut, all dressed up for who? For me?" His hands make quick work of unclasping your bra and tossing it aside before he drags your panties down your legs and throws them away too, leaving you completely naked and exposed for him.

With a firm hand, Heeseung spreads your legs wide, getting a perfect view of your glistening, dripping pussy. "Already so wet for me, but it’s not enough." Suddenly he leans down and spits directly on your pussy, the warm string of saliva hitting your clit and dripping down your folds. The sight makes his rock-hard cock twitch inside his pants so he does it again, spitting a second time, then spreads it with two fingers, rubbing the wetness all over. "Gonna get this pussy nice and sloppy for me."

You moan loudly at the filthy feeling of his saliva sliding through your folds — hips jerk while your pussy clenches around nothing.

Heeseung drags his tongue slowly up your pussy, licking from your entrance to your clit in one long, deliberate stroke that makes you gasp. When you do, he laughs against you — the vibration sending shivers through your entire body.

"You taste so fucking good," he says before diving back in. He eats you out messily, his tongue swirling around your clit before dipping down to push inside you, savoring every drop of your arousal mixed with his spit.

Your hands fly to his hair, gripping it tightly as the overwhelming sensation hits you. "Heeseung, that feels incredible…"

He keeps going, licking deeper inside you while his nose brushes against your clit, but suddenly he pulls back, looking up at you with a devilish smirk. Without warning, he brings his hand down in a sharp, wet slap against your soaked pussy, the sting mixed with pleasure makes you cry out loudly. "Holy fuck, Heeseung."

"You like that too?" He slaps your pussy again, harder this time, hitting your folds and swollen clit. "Such a dirty girl, getting even wetter when I slap this pretty pussy."

"Yes— God, yes," you moan, thighs trembling. "It burns, but it feels so good at the same time."

That encourages him to give you another slap and right after, he buries his face between your legs again, sucking hard on your clit while two thick fingers push inside you. He fingers you mercilessly, curling them to hit that sweet spot over and over as his tongue works your clit. "Fuck, you’re so tight. Taking my fingers like a good little slut for me."

He spits on your clit again, spreading the saliva with his tongue before adding a third finger, stretching you deliciously while pumping them faster and harder. All you can do is moan, your thighs shaking violently around his head. "Heeseung, I’m getting close… please don’t stop."

He obeys, alternating between long licks, hard sucks on your clit, deep thrusts of his fingers, and firm slaps that make your pussy burn and throb. "I’m gonna come," you moan, arching your back off the bed.

"Then come for me." Your entire body tenses, your walls clenching hard around his fingers as spasms rip through you. You come hard with a loud cry, thighs trembling violently around his head. But Heeseung doesn’t stop, he keeps licking and fingering you through every pulse, drawing out your pleasure until you’re oversensitive and whimpering.

When he finally pulls back with glossy lips and chin, he kisses you again so you can taste yourself on his tongue. "Get on your knees for me," he commands against your lips. "I want that pretty mouth around my cock."

It’s time to put into practice what Sunghoon taught you about sucking dick.

With a confident little smile, you gently push him so he lies on his back. Once he does, you position yourself between his legs and reach for his belt, slowly unbuckling it. He lifts his hips to help as you pull his pants and boxers down, freeing his cock. It springs up thick, hard, and leaking precum, making your mouth water at the sight.

You wrap one hand around the base of his cock, lean in, and press a soft kiss to the tip before dragging your tongue slowly along the underside, drawing a shaky breath from Heeseung. "That’s it… suck me like a good girl."

Feeling confident, you take him into your mouth and slowly suck on the head, swirling your tongue around it while savoring the precum there. Then you take him deeper, bobbing your head as your hand strokes what doesn’t fit, your movements growing smoother as you find the right rhythm. "Fuck… your mouth feels so good."

His praise encourages you to take him even deeper until the head brushes the back of your throat, making you gag. A wet choking sound escapes as your eyes water, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you stay there for a moment, breathing through your nose the way Sunghoon taught you, before sliding back up and sinking down again.

Heeseung grabs your hair and tightens his grip as a needy groan escapes his throat. "Shit, that’s… ahh—"

You keep going, moving your head faster and sucking harder while your hand twists around the base, making his thighs tense and another desperate moan slip out.

It’s hard to believe that Heeseung, the guy everyone on campus talks about, the one with a reputation for being experienced and dominant, is moaning and whimpering under your mouth. It’s unexpected, but not in a bad way, especially because your pussy clenches around nothing every time he makes those sounds.

You pull back a little, sucking on the head while stroking him faster with your hand, which draws another broken moan from him. "Yes— fuck, yes, baby."

Wanting to pull even more reactions from him, you take him deep into your mouth again, gagging softly around his length as your head moves faster. Saliva drips down his entire shaft and onto your hand, making everything slick and messy.

Heeseung’s moans grow louder, breathier, and more frequent. "Fuck, I… I’m gonna come. Please don’t stop… I’m so close, baby."

You moan around him and suck harder until his thighs start to tremble. "Fuck… fuck—!" His voice cracks as the orgasm finally hits him.

His cock pulses hot and hard on your tongue, releasing thick jets of cum into your mouth. You try to swallow as much as you can, continuing to suck him through every last spasm and moan.

When you finally pull off his cock with a wet pop, Heeseung moves fast. He flips you onto your back and hovers over you — the whimpering guy from moments ago is gone. Now his eyes are filled with raw hunger.

"I’m not done with you yet." With a firm hand, he spreads your thighs, exposing your dripping pussy, begging to be fucked. "Now I’m going to fuck you properly."

You blink at him, confused and surprised by the sudden shift because seconds ago he was moaning and almost begging under your mouth, and now he’s trying to act like the dominant guy everyone talks about.

He lines up the head of his cock at your entrance, rubbing it up and down your wet folds, coating himself with your arousal. Without warning, he thrusts into you hard in one brutal stroke, stretching you around his thick length.

The sudden fullness makes you cry out loudly, your back arching off the bed. "Oh my God — Heeseung!" The stretch feels so good, especially while you’re still sensitive from coming earlier.

He fucks you hard and deep from the very first thrust, his hips slamming against yours with relentless strokes that make the bed creak beneath you. "Fuck, this pussy is so wet and greedy," he groans, leaning down to capture your lips in a messy kiss while one of his hands wraps around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. He holds it for a few seconds before loosening his grip, letting you gasp for air. "Look at you, sucking my cock like a good little slut. You love being used like this, don’t you?"

"Yes, fuck, yes," you moan, your voice breaking under the pressure of his hand. "You’re so deep inside me. It feels so good, Heeseung."

He chokes you again, a little harder this time, and the mix of pleasure and lack of air makes your head spin deliciously.

Heeseung pushes your legs back toward your chest, folding you in half so he can fuck you even deeper. The new angle makes his cock hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, causing your eyes to roll back.

When he finally releases your throat, you gasp desperately for air, moaning loudly as he keeps hitting that sweet spot over and over. "Please… harder. I can take it."

Heeseung lets out a needy groan at your words, his hips stuttering for half a second before he gives you exactly what you asked for. He fucks you harder, rougher, driving his cock into you with punishing depth. The sound of skin slapping against skin grows louder and wetter as he pounds into you, pressing your body into the mattress.

Just as your next orgasm starts to build, he suddenly slows down, keeping his cock buried deep inside you but barely moving. "Not yet. You don’t get to come until I say so, slut."

You whine desperately, trying to lift your hips for more friction. "Please, Heeseung… I need to come. I’m so close already. Don’t stop— I’ve been so good."

He smirks wickedly, shaking his head as he starts thrusting with slow, teasing rolls of his hips. "Beg better than that, baby. I want to hear how badly you need it."

You’re a complete mess underneath him, tears of frustration and pleasure gathering in your eyes. "Please… I’ll be so good for you. Just let me come on your cock, please. I need it so bad— I can’t take this teasing anymore."

Heeseung groans, but the sound turns into a needy moan as your walls clench around him. He starts fucking you harder again, his hand returning to your throat. But he isn’t done teasing you yet, so he edges you two more times — bringing you right to the brink with deep, brutal thrusts only to slow down and leave you whimpering and empty.

On the third time, you’re crying and babbling nonstop. "Heeseung… please, I can’t take it anymore. It hurts so good… I need to come. I’ll do anything you want. Just let me come on your cock."

"Fuck… you look so pretty when you beg," he groans, his voice rough with his own need to come. He thrusts into you with brutal force, tightening his hand around your throat again while his hips move relentlessly. "Come then. Come all over my cock like the desperate slut you are. Let me feel you."

Your entire body seizes underneath him. Your walls clamp down hard around his thick cock, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as you soak his cock and the sheets beneath you, screaming his name.

Heeseung fucks you through your orgasm, groaning as your pussy milks him. "Fuck, that’s it. Good girl… you’re squeezing me so tight." A few more brutal, deep thrusts and he buries himself as deep as possible, coming hard inside you with thick, hot pulses.

Lying under him with your heart racing and breath coming in short, heavy bursts, his cock still buried deep inside you, your mind keeps returning to the sounds he made minutes ago — those desperate, broken moans and whimpers when you had him in your mouth.

Something about hearing him lose control like that makes heat pool low in your belly. After a few seconds of hesitation, you gather your courage, place a hand on his chest, and push him gently but firmly. "My turn to break you now. I want to hear you moaning under me." You say as you swing your leg over his waist, straddling him.

Heeseung’s breath hitches as his cock, already hardening again beneath you, shows just how much he likes the shift in power. "Baby… fuck," he gasps, his hands reaching for your hips.

"Don’t touch unless I say so." You slap his hands away, then wrap your fingers around his thick cock, stroking him slowly and teasingly while rubbing the head up and down your cum-soaked pussy. "Look at you. The captain of the basketball team. Everyone on campus thinks you’re this untouchable stud who ruins girls and never gets ruined."

You sink down onto him in one slow motion, taking every inch until your ass meets his thighs — the stretch making both of you moan. You stay completely still, clenching around him just to watch him squirm, a mischievous smile spreading across your face. Then you start moving your hips slowly, rubbing your clit against his pelvis. "Ahh— fuck… please don’t tease me."

You begin riding his cock properly, using everything you learned — deep movements, tight squeezes, and powerful bounces that make your ass slap against his thighs and your clit grind deliciously against his pelvis.

"Fuck, baby," he hisses, his hands flying to your hips, but you grab his wrists and push them away. You lean down so your breasts brush against his chest and his cock hits even deeper. "Don’t touch. Just take this pussy like a good boy. Got it, captain?"

Heeseung’s cock twitches hard inside you at your words, and a low, surprised moan escapes his throat. "Shit… yes," he groans, clearly turned on by the way you dominate him. "Use me, baby. Fuck me."

So this was the real Heeseung? A whimpering mess when someone takes control. All that arrogance on the court, all those girls throwing themselves at him, and here he is — moaning and shaking underneath you like he can’t handle how good your pussy feels around him.

You watch every reaction closely, mesmerized by the way his lips part, his breath coming in short, needy gasps every time you bounce and grind on him, and the broken moans slipping from his throat when you clench hard around his cock.

'God, he really is a whimperer,' you think, amazed by the sight as you bite your lip and ride him harder. "All that reputation and you’re crying because a girl is riding you. That’s kind of pathetic… but so fucking hot."

Heeseung lets out another broken moan, his hands desperately gripping the sheets since you won’t let him touch you. "Fuck— you’re killing me. Your pussy feels too good, I can’t… ah— slow down a little, please."

You laugh softly and keep riding him mercilessly, clenching around his cock rhythmically, rolling your hips in tight, dirty circles while bouncing faster and faster, making sure he feels every movement. "You’re going to take this like a good boy, captain."

Heeseung moans louder, letting his head fall back against the pillow as his body trembles beneath you. "Shit, you’re so mean. Please don’t stop. Your pussy is squeezing me so tight— fuck, I’m losing my mind."

You lean back, bracing your hands on his thighs so he has the perfect view of his cock disappearing into your dripping pussy. "Look how deep you are," you moan, rolling your ass on him in small, obscene movements. "You like watching me use your cock like this, don’t you? Such a big, strong captain… and now you’re moaning under me."

The pleasure and the delicious sight of the untouchable Heeseung moaning and whimpering push you toward your own orgasm. "I’m gonna come," you gasp, leaning down to kiss him messily while still bouncing on his cock. "And you’re going to come with me, crybaby."

Heeseung moans loudly, the nickname making his cock twitch hard inside you. "Fuck… I’m coming!" His hips buck up to meet your bounces as thick jets of cum spill deep inside you once again.

You follow right behind him, your orgasm crashing over you as you keep riding him through both of your peaks, milking every last drop from his cock.

"Don’t tell anyone about this," he begs breathlessly, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "That I’m… like this. Please. This is our secret, okay? Just between us."

────────

Jake’s hands grip your hips tightly, you clench around his cock and roll your hips in those filthy, perfected movements. His broken moans fill the room as you bounce faster, grinding harder against him. Suddenly, your phone starts ringing on the nightstand, Ni-ki’s name lighting up the screen.

You slow your movements, reaching over to answer the call while still sitting on Jake’s cock. "Hey," you sigh, slightly breathless.

Jake groans, his hips twitching desperately. "Babe… please don’t stop," his voice is full of need. "I was so close… keep going, please."

You cover his mouth with your hand to silence him to continue the call. Ni-ki sounds frustrated on the other end. "You free right now? We lost tonight and I’m pissed. Come to my dorm… I need that pretty pussy to help me forget this shit game."

"I can come over soon," you say, trying to keep your voice steady while rolling your hips on Jake. "Give me a bit."

"Good. Don’t take too long. I really need to fuck you," Ni-ki says before hanging up.

You drop the phone and start riding Jake again. "Sorry about that. Now be a good boy and come for me.

Later that night, you’re on all fours in Ni-ki’s dorm as he fucks you hard from behind. His hips slam against your ass with deep, aggressive thrusts.

In the middle of a particularly rough stroke, he suddenly asks, "I saw you leaving the hockey rink the other day. What the hell were you doing there?"

You moan and push back to meet his thrusts. "None of your business."

Ni-ki’s hand comes down hard on your ass with a loud smack. The sharp sting makes you clench around his cock and moan louder. He slaps you again, even harder. "Wrong answer."

"Again," you moan, arching your back. "I like it."

Ni-ki laughs darkly and keeps spanking you repeatedly while fucking you harder, his palm leaving red marks on your ass as he pounds into you until both of you come hard.

The next afternoon, you’re on your knees in Jay’s dorm with his huge cock stretching your mouth as you suck him. Jay has one hand gently stroking your hair, looking down at you with proud eyes.

"You’re doing so well. Taking me so deep like this… you look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth, angel."

You relax your throat, taking him as deep as you can, sucking harder, using every technique you’ve learned. Jay groans, his fingers sliding gently through your hair.

"Fuck… you’re incredible. Such a good girl for me. Keep going, you’re making me feel so good."

He keeps praising you the whole time, soft and sincere, until he finally comes down your throat with a soft, shaky groan, lovingly stroking your cheek as you swallow everything.

When you leave Jay’s room, still a little flushed and disheveled, you run straight into Sunghoon in the hallway. He looks at you, then at Jay’s door behind you, and his expression darkens instantly.

"What the fuck were you doing in there?"

You don’t answer, trying to walk past him, but he doesn’t let you. Sunghoon grabs your wrist and pulls you into his own dorm, slamming the door behind you. He fucks you hard and jealous, bending you over the desk, taking you from behind with brutal, possessive thrusts.

"You’ve been fucking everyone lately, haven’t you?" he growls, driving deep and angry. "Greedy little slut."

You moan loudly, loving the jealous tone in his voice.

During the rough thrusts, your phone starts vibrating on the desk — it’s Heeseung sending message after message.

Heeseung:

I can’t stop thinking about that night with you.

Come over.

Baby, answer me.

I know you’re getting these.

Don’t play games with me.

Stop fucking ignoring me.

Sunghoon notices the constant buzzing, picks up the phone, uses your face to unlock it, and opens the chat. With a dark, possessive smile, he takes a photo of your flushed, teary-eyed, moaning face while he fucks you hard from behind and sends it to Heeseung with the caption: "She’s busy."

He tosses the phone aside and fucks you even harder after that.

────────

You finally understand why Heeseung never wants to be tied to just one person. Having options is liberating. Jake, Sunghoon, Jay, Ni-ki, and Heeseung — each one offers something different: different rhythms, different kinds of pleasure, different versions of yourself. You don’t have to choose just one because you can have them all. Now you understand Heeseung’s lifestyle — it’s freeing.

And you realize you want that freedom too.

Thank you for reading! and a special thanks to everyone who asked to be tagged <3