ℬ u n n i e

It was an unwritten rule that where Riki was, you were never more than an arm’s length away.

It wasn’t something either of you had ever explicitly planned, it was just the natural gravity of years spent growing up in each other's space.

By now, the boundaries between your lives were so blurred that nobody around you even bothered to treat you as two entirely separate entities.

You knew the exact weight of his head when he fell asleep against your shoulder on late night subway rides home. He knew precisely how you took your coffee, automatically grabbing two sugars and a splash of oat milk before you even reached the counter.

Even today was no exception, the easy silence between you holding the kind of familiarity that only comes from a lifetime of shared moments.

You were stretched out on the couch, wrapped in one of Riki’s oversized hoodies that had been sitting in your closet for so long it was basically yours now. Riki was on the floor right beside you, back propped against the base of the sofa, lazily scrolling through his phone.

Without looking up, he reached a hand onto the coffee table, snagged your iced tea, and took a sip before setting it down by his knee.

"Hey," you said, tossing a pillow softly at his head. "That’s mine."

"You weren't drinking it," he replied, not bothering to apologize as he caught the pillow and tucked it behind his back.

He leaned his head back against the edge of the couch, resting it right near your knee. He looked up at you upside down, a faint, familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Jay and Jake said they're heading over in a bit," he said, tapping his screen. "Told them we were just chilling, so they're bringing food."

"Did you tell them to get the good chicken place?"

"Obviously. I'm not an amateur." Riki stretched his long legs out across the rug, shifting a little closer to rest his shoulder against your calf. "Jay said they'd be here in twenty minutes, so enjoy the peace while it lasts."

"Tragic," you murmured, nudging his shoulder with your toe. "We should've locked the door and pretended we weren't home."

"Thought about it," he grumbled, though there was zero heat behind it.

For the next fifteen minutes, it was just the two of you in your element—stealing bites of snacks, tossing inside jokes back and forth, and enjoying the warmth before the apartment got flooded with noise.

When the familiar, loud footsteps finally bounded up the stairwell followed by a heavy knock on the door, Riki let out a dramatically long sigh, but a soft smile flickered across his face as he pushed himself up from the floor to let the guys in.

The front door didn't just open—it flew wide with the usual whirlwind energy Jay and Jake brought everywhere they went. Jay had two large brown paper bags of chicken slung over his arm, while Jake was already kicking off his sneakers at the door, dropping his keys onto the entryway table with a clatter.

"Smells like home!" Jake announced, striding into the living room and immediately dropping his arm over your shoulder to pull you into a quick, side-hug. "Hey, y/n. Riki treating you okay or do I need to take him out?"

"He’s stealing my drinks, but otherwise surviving," you said laughing.

Jay set the heavy takeout bags down on the kitchen counter first before walking over, giving you a quick, warm hug of his own.

"Don't listen to her," Riki grumbled from the kitchen, casually setting a stack of plates and napkins onto the counter. "I'm the victim here."

"Yeah, yeah, victim of your own laziness," Jay teased, grabbing a cup from the cabinet before heading over to flop onto the middle of the couch.

Within five minutes, the quiet living room was completely transformed. The TV was turned on to some random reality show no one was actually watching, the volume low enough to just serve as background noise while everyone dug into the chicken. Jake sprawled on the rug, leaning back against the front of the sofa, while Jay claimed the cushion on the far end.

You dropped back down into your spot on the floor, resting your back against the sofa. A second later, Riki sat down right beside you, handing you an already opened soda before setting a plate of extra sauce between the two of you to share.

For the next half hour, the room was full of easy, loud chatter. You talked about Riki’s disastrous driving test, Jay’s new gym obsession, and a terrible movie you had all seen in theaters months ago. Everyone was laughing, passing food around, and completely relaxed. l

As the food disappeared, Riki leaned back, reaching behind him to grab a blanket that was folded over the arm of the couch. He unrolled it and tossed half of it over your lap before covering his own legs.

Jake, who was in the middle of taking a sip of his drink, paused. His eyes darted from the blanket to Riki, who was currently opening the small side drawer of your coffee table to pull out his phone charger that he kept stored in there.

Jay caught Jake's eye across the table. A tiny, knowing smirk spread across Jay’s face, and Jake lowered his soda, shaking his head with a quiet snort.

"Okay, wait," Jake said, leaning his elbows on his knees as he looked between the two of you. "I need to ask a genuine question."

"If it's about the last piece of chicken, Jay ate it," Riki said, not looking up as he plugged his phone into the wall.

"No, not about the chicken," Jake laughed. He gestured vaguely around the living room. "I’m looking at your clothes on her couch. I’m looking at your phone charger in her drawer. I’m pretty sure your favorite cereal is in her pantry, bro. You pay rent for an apartment three blocks away, but you literally live here."

Jay leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand with a grin. "Honestly. At this point, you two might as well just drop the act and admit you're a couple. It would save everyone a lot of confusion."

Jake nodded in agreement, tossing a napkin at Riki. "Seriously. You guys are basically an old married couple already. Just make it official."

Jake’s comment hung in the air for a second, greeted by Jay’s amused nod as he took another bite of chicken.

You shoved a fry into your mouth, shaking your head before the words even fully registered. "Goodness, no," you scoffed, rolling your eyes with a light laugh. "Don't start with that. We’d kill each other in a week."

Jake threw his head back, laughing out loud. "Hey, I'm just stating facts. The evidence is literally everywhere!"

"Ignore them," Jay joined in, grinning. "They’re in denial."

The joke easily dissolved into the background noise of the room, with Jake and Jay moving on to argue about whatever was playing on the TV a few seconds later. You reached down to grab your soda, chuckling to yourself at how ridiculous they were being.

Beside you, though, Riki hadn't said a word.

He didn't laugh along with the guys, nor did he toss out his usual sarcastic comeback. He just sat there, his fingers lightly gripping his soda can, staring ahead at the screen. His shoulders had stiffened just a fraction, the easy, relaxed posture he’d had all evening suddenly gone.

You glanced over at him, expecting him to be rolling his eyes too, but his mouth was set in a tight, flat line.

"Riki?" you murmured, low enough so only he could hear over Jake and Jay shouting at the TV.

He didn't look at you right away. When he finally turned his head, his eyes were heavy, searching your face with an intense, unreadable expression that made your stomach do a strange, unexpected flip.

"What?" he asked, his voice quiet, devoid of any warmth or humor.

"Nothing... you good?"

"Fine," he said dryly, turning his gaze back toward the TV.

For the rest of the night, the vibe shifted—or at least, it did for Riki. While Jake and Jay kept up the loud banter, Riki became unusually quiet.

He still sat next to you on the floor, but the casual, effortless warmth was replaced by a heavy, prickly silence. When your knees brushed, he didn't lean into it like usual, he just held still, his jaw subtly clenching whenever you spoke or laughed with the other two.

It left a strange, lingering tension in the air—one that only you seemed to notice, leaving you wondering what on earth had just set him off.

The apartment finally began to quiet down around midnight. Jake stretched his arms over his head with a loud yawn, while Jay started gathering the empty takeout boxes and crumpled napkins off the coffee table, tossing them into the trash.

"Alright, I'm heading out," Jay said, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. "Got an early morning tomorrow."

"Yeah, same here," Jake added, grabbing his keys off the entryway table. He flashed a quick grin over his shoulder. "Thanks for letting us crash, y/nnie. See ya later, Riki."

"Yeah, see you guys," you replied, standing up to walk them to the door.

Riki stayed sitting on the floor, barely giving a low nod toward the door as they left. As soon as the front door clicked shut, the sudden silence in the apartment felt heavy—almost suffocating compared to the noise from earlier.

You turned back toward the living room, setting a few glasses down on the counter. "Okay, what is going on with you?" you asked, leaning your back against the edge of the kitchen counter. "You've been acting weird ever since Jay and Jake were here."

"I'm not acting like anything," he said, his voice flat. He was still sitting on the floor, staring down at his phone, but he wasn't actually scrolling.

"Riki, come on. You literally sat there like a statue for the last hour," you said, crossing your arms. You tried for a light, teasing tone to break the ice. "Did someone steal your favorite piece of chicken or something? You look like you're about to fight the wall."

He finally locked his phone screen with an aggressive click and set it down on the rug. "Just drop it."

"No, I’m not gonna drop it," you pushed softly, taking a step toward the living room. "We were having a good night, and then out of nowhere you flipped a switch. Did we do something to annoy you, just tell me."

Riki let out a low, bitter laugh—the kind that didn't have any real humor in it. He tilted his head back against the sofa, looking up at you with narrowed eyes.

"Goodness, no."

The sharp, mocking bite in his tone caught you off guard. You blinked. "What?"

"That's what you said," he quoted, his voice dropping into a low, quiet imitation of your voice from earlier. "Goodness, no. Like the thought of us being together is the most ridiculous, embarrassing thing you could ever imagine."

The confusion on your face shifted into a light scoff as you shook your head, still trying to defuse the sudden wave of anger radiating off him.

"Omg, knock it off!" you said, tossing your hands up. "It isn't that deep, Riki! Jay and Jake were making a dumb joke like they always do. I gave a dumb answer so they'd stop teasing us. It was a joke."

"Well, it wasn't a joke to me," he snapped.

He stood up from the floor. His tall frame suddenly towered over you, erasing the distance between you two until he was standing just a foot away, the shadowy, tense atmosphere of the quiet apartment settling heavy between you.

The sudden intensity in his voice made your laughter die in your throat. He wasn't playing along. He was dead serious.

"Riki—"

He took a slow step closer, looking down at you. All the defensive anger in his posture seemed to drain away, leaving behind something far more vulnerable.

"It sucked hearing you laugh it off like that," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck as his eyes searched yours. "Because... I actually have thought about it. A lot. So when you said 'goodness, no' like it was the worst idea in the world... yeah. It hit wrong."

The silence in the room stretched out, thick and heavy.

Oh.

Riki stayed standing there for a long moment, his dark eyes searching your face for any kind of answer as the silence between you stretched thin. But when you didn't immediately speak, he let out a low, heavy breath, rubbing the back of his neck as his gaze dropped to the floor.

He took your stunned silence as a quiet rejection.

"Forget it," he muttered, his voice dropping into a flat, distant tone. He stepped back, turning toward the living room table to grab his phone and keys with quick, stiff movements. "This was a mistake. I’m just gonna head back to my place."

You stood frozen in the middle of the room, your brain scrambling to catch up. You watched him walk over to the entryway chair, snatching his denim jacket off the back of it and shoving one arm through the sleeve. The sudden, looming reality of him actually leaving made a sharp knot form in your chest.

It wasn't until his hand reached out and touched the cool metal of the front door handle that your body finally moved on pure instinct.

"Riki, wait—"

You closed the distance between you in two strides, reaching out and catching him firmly by the wrist before he could turn the knob.

"Just wait, okay?" you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

You kept your gaze glued strictly to the floor, completely avoiding his eyes as your fingers remained wrapped around his wrist. You gently pulled him away from the front door, steering him back toward the living room. Riki didn't resist, though his arm was tense beneath your touch.

You both sat down on the sofa, leaving a quiet, heavy foot of space between you. Neither of you looked at the other—Riki was staring fixatedly at his own hands resting on his knees, his jaw clenched, while you stared down at the pattern of the rug beneath your feet.

Your head was spinning. The realization settled deep in your chest, a strange mix of absolute shock and a sudden, quiet relief.

You had buried your own feelings for him so deeply for so long—convinced that ruining a years long friendship wasn't worth the risk—that having it all laid out in the open like this felt completely surreal. It was everything you wanted, but processing the sudden shift from best friends to this in a matter of minutes was overwhelming.

Beside you, Riki shifted restlessly. The heavy silence was clearly wearing through his remaining patience.

"So are we just—" he started, turning his head toward you, his voice tight.

"I'm sorry," you cut in quickly, finally turning to face him.

He blinked, catching the genuine softness in your tone.

"I'm sorry," you repeated, your fingers nervously pulling at the hem of his hoodie. "I only said that because... I never thought you felt the same way. It was just an automatic response. It was awkward, the guys were teasing, and I just panicked and said the first thing I could think of to deflect it."

Riki watched you silently as you spoke, the sharp edge in his posture finally melting away. He let out a low, slow breath, rubbing his hand over his face.

"I get it," he said softly, looking back up at you. "I do. Still sucked to hear."

"I know," you whispered. "I'm sorry."

The heavy air between you cleared, leaving behind a raw, magnetic tension that was impossible to ignore. Riki reached out, his long fingers carefully brushing against the side of your face, his thumb softly tracing the line of your jaw. His skin was warm, his dark eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart hammer against your ribs.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice dropping into a low, quiet murmur.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat as you stared at him. For a second, the whole room went completely silent. You looked at the soft curve of his lips, then back up to his eyes—dark, intense, and waiting.

"Yes," you breathed out.

He didn't hesitate. Riki leaned in, closing the small gap between you, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss that was warm, deep, and long overdue. Any lingering hesitation melted instantly. The familiar best friend boundary shattered, replaced by a sudden, surging heat that caught both of you off guard.

You shifted closer, your knee bumping against his leg on the cushion before you awkwardly swung one leg over his lap to straddle him. Riki let out a low, heavy breath against your mouth, his hands instantly coming up to grip your waist, helping pull your hips flush against his.

The kiss deepened, turning messy and breathless. You tangled your fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as your other hand slid down the side of his neck to the chest of his shirt.

Riki’s hands roamed over your body with a desperate, possessive grip—sliding down from your waist to firmly cup and squeeze your ass, pulling you down into his lap as you began to slowly grind against him.

A quiet gasp escaped your throat as Riki broke the kiss, trailing hot, wet presses down your jawline and burying his face into the crook of your neck. His breath hit your sensitive skin in ragged, heavy hitches, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks as he held you tightly against him.

Riki’s mouth stayed buried against your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear as he dragged a slow, deliberate bite that made your hips stutter against him. His hands tightened on your ass, pulling you down harder so you could feel exactly how hard he already was beneath you.

“Goodness, no,” he murmured against your neck, the words low and rough, almost a laugh. “Seriously?”

You tried to answer, but the only sound that came out was a shaky breath when he rolled his hips up into yours.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and still a little sharp with leftover hurt. “That’s what you said. Like the idea of this—” he squeezed your ass again, guiding another slow grind, “—was the dumbest thing you’d ever heard.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know.” His voice softened, but the teasing edge stayed. “Still gonna make you take it back.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, tongue sliding against yours while one hand slipped under the hem of your hoodie. Warm fingers skimmed up your bare side, over your ribs, until he found the soft underside of your breast. He cupped you through the thin fabric of your bra, thumb brushing lazily across your nipple until it peaked under his touch.

You arched into his hand with a quiet sound. Riki smiled against your mouth.

He shifted beneath you, then suddenly lifted, turning so your back hit the couch cushions. Your hoodie rode up as he settled between your thighs. He tugged the fabric higher, exposing the soft skin of your stomach. You lifted just enough for him to pull it off completely and toss it aside.

His eyes dragged over you, lingering on the way your chest rose and fell. Then he leaned down and pressed an open mouthed kiss right above the waistband of your shorts.

“Been thinking about this for a long time,” he admitted, voice rough. “Every time you wore my clothes. Every time you stole my drinks. Every time you sat this close and acted like it meant nothing.”

His fingers hooked into the sides of your shorts and underwear together. You lifted your hips, and he dragged both pieces down your legs in one slow pull, dropping them onto the floor. The cool air of the apartment kissed your bare skin for only a second before Riki’s hands were back, spreading your thighs wider.

One thumb stroked slowly along your inner thigh, higher, until it brushed through the already slick folds between your legs. You jerked at the contact. He hummed, almost pleased.

“You’re so wet already,” he murmured. “After acting like you never wanted this.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but the words dissolved into a sharp inhale when he leaned in and dragged the flat of his tongue up through you in one long, deliberate stroke. Your head tipped back against the cushion. “oh fuck—”

Riki made a low, satisfied sound and did it again, slower this time, savoring.

He took his time. Long, thorough licks that started low and ended with a soft suck on your clit. Two fingers slid into you easily, curling just right while his mouth stayed focused higher, tongue working in tight circles that made your thighs tremble around his head.

“Mmm, Riki—” His name slipped out on a whimper as your hips tried to lift. He pinned them down with one forearm, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

He hummed against you, the vibration shooting straight up your spine. Your fingers twisted tighter in his hair.

His fingers worked deeper, stroking that spot inside that made your breath hitch into short, desperate gasps—soft mmphs and half swallowed curses.

“ah—ki, feels so good” Your voice cracked. Legs shaking harder now. “right there—”

Riki felt the way you clenched around his fingers, the desperate little flutter of your hips even with his forearm pinning you down. He slowed, then stopped completely, pulling back just enough that the cool air hit your oversensitive skin.

You made a sharp, frustrated sound at the sudden loss.

He looked up at you, lips shiny, breathing hard. One hand stayed spread low on your stomach, feeling the way you were still pulsing under his palm.

“Not yet,” he said quietly, almost gentle. “Wanna feel you come on my dick first.”

He pushed up from the couch and stood, shoving his pants and boxers down in one rough motion. His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, already leaking at the tip. He wrapped a hand around himself once, stroking slowly while he looked at you still spread out beneath him.

Then he reached for you.

Hands on your hips, he turned you carefully, guiding you until your upper body was draped over the back of the couch,the position left you open and exposed.

Riki stayed standing right behind you, his hands gripping your hips firmly from above as he positioned himself.

You felt the blunt head of him nudge against your entrance. He didn’t push in yet, just dragged the tip up and down through your wetness, teasing until you pushed back against him.

Riki let out a low sound and sank into you in one slow, deep thrust, filling you completely. The stretch made your mouth fall open on a quiet moan. He held you tightly by the waist as he started moving from behind, driving into you with deep, steady strokes that rocked you forward against the cushions.

One of his hands slid around to cup your breast, thumb brushing your nipple in time with every thrust, while the other kept a vice grip on your hip, keeping you locked to his pace.

The wet sound of him moving in and out of you filled the quiet apartment, mixed with the soft, broken noises you couldn’t hold back.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned from above, his voice rough.

He kept the pace controlled at first, like he was still proving a point. Every time you tried to push back harder to speed him up, he slowed his thrusts just enough to leave you hanging, drawing a desperate whimper out of you.

“Ki, p-please,” you gasped out, your knuckles white as you gripped the couch cushion. “Stop teasing.”

He leaned down over your back, his breath hot against the shell of your ear as his fingers dug possessively into your hip.

"Hold still," he murmured, his voice low, gravelly, and completely smug.

You could only shake your head, already too far gone to form words.

Eventually he pulled out, turning you again so your back was flat against the couch cushions. He settled over you this time, one hand bracing beside your head, the other guiding himself back between your legs. When he pushed in again, the angle was deeper. His hips rolled against yours in a steady, grinding rhythm.

You wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned down kissing you messy and open mouthed while he fucked you, the teasing edge still there in the way he occasionally pulled almost all the way out just to watch your face when he sank back in.

The rhythm grew harder, more urgent. His eyes locked on your face as he drove into you again and again. One of his hands slipped between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, perfect circles that pushed you right to the edge.

“Riki, I’m—fuck, I’m close,” you brokenly gasped out, your fingers digging into his shoulder as your hips met his.

“Let go,” he murmured against your ear, his voice low, and completely ruined. “I got you.”

You broke with a soft, broken cry, clenching hard around him. Riki followed a few thrusts later, burying himself deep as he came with a low, raspy sound against your neck, hips stuttering through the last waves.

For a long moment neither of you moved. Just breathing, skin damp, hearts racing together in the quiet space.

Riki eventually shifted, rolling back onto his shoulders and taking you with him. His hands wrapped tightly around your waist as he pulled you up on top of him. You collapsed against his chest, your cheek resting right over his racing heart while your legs tangled with his on the couch.

His hand slid up your back, thumb brushing light, soothing circles against your bare skin.

“…Still think we’d kill each other in a week?” he asked, quieter now, almost smiling.

You let out a soft, breathless laugh and shook your head.

his touch makes you melt. makes your brain short-circuit. makes you forget about any worries you have about ruining what you already have with him. he drags his tongue over the bite marks he's just made, soothing the spot.

he litters soft kisses all over your chest, and just like that, you forget why you ever held off fucking him like this in the first place. "okay," you whisper. "shit—okay."

he looks up quick, like he's not sure if he even heard you right. but there's this grin on his face. it's wide, toothy, and entirely too smug. like he knew you'd end up agreeing. if he wants to rub it in, he doesn't, which you're a little grateful for.

"fuck, baby, thank you. gonna fuck you so well, i swear you won't regret it."

yeah, just like he swore he wouldn't go past the tip. the retort dies on your tongue, because then he's pushing into you, the bed frame creaking in protest with every thrust. he's just so big, and he barely gives you a moment to adjust.

"mm, wait, hee—"

"sorrysorrysorry," he groans, the words falling from his mouth in a single string. "just spent so long dreaming of fucking this pretty pussy."

PARK JONGSEONG ── "y'know, you're not doing a great job at pretending you don't want this."

your face flushes, and you try to duck your head, but jongseong's hovering over your body. with the hand that's not on your bare hip, he pulls your chin back towards him, forcing eye contact.

"seongie," you whine, a tinge of embarrassment in your voice. "you promised we wouldn't go all the way."

"and you're making a mess all over my cock, baby. just give in. you know you want to." he doesn't say it like he's pleading or trying to convince you. he says it like it's a fact, which might be worse.

actually, it is worse.

because he can read your body. he can read the tremble in your voice as you try to hold your ground. the hitch of your breath when his tongue flicks against your nipple.

even now, when he's barely more than an inch into you, he doesn't miss the way you're squeezing him, practically trying to suck him in. and with how wet you are, it'd be so easy to just slip right in.

"i—i don't know," you stammer out, or try to, as he rubs slow circles onto your clit, smearing your messy arousal all over your thighs. you part your lips, like you're about to protest, but all that comes out is a moan.

"but we're friends—" you bite out, your arms around his neck, instinctively pulling him closer.

"so what? we'll be friends that fuck. or more, if that's what you want. that's what i want. we can work out the details later, can't we?"

the word more rings in your ears, and jongseong can hear the gears shifting in your cock-drunk mind.

"hey, hey. don't worry your pretty little head about that right now. just let me take care of you. it'll be the best you'll have."

you nod once, barely interceptable, but he shakes his head. "words, sweetheart. use your words for me, hm?"

you feel heat creep up your neck, but you nod again anyway. "yes, seongie. i... i want you to fuck me."

god, you really don't have to tell him twice.

it's when he finally bottoms out, that he has to stop and go though a roster of formula 1 teams, in order not to cum.

after all, might not have kept his initial promise, but he would be the best fuck of your life.

SIM JAEYUN ── "please, angel. fuckin' hell... you need this as bad as i do, don't lie."

jake's eyes are so innocent, though the intent behind them is anything but. his gaze, set firmly on you, makes heat pool in your stomach, adding to the wet mess on the sheets beneath you.

sure, you and jake had fooled around before. it wasn't rare. if anything, it was a daily occurrence. you'd humped him mindlessly on the couch before, sucked him off in his studio, and let him finger you for hours at a time. but this?

this wasn't the same. actually fucking him felt like crossing a line. like stepping over an already blurry boundary.

but he's adamant. so adamant. he's got his heart dead-set on this, pouting at you with those pretty pink lips, slightly swollen from kissing. as mentioned, however, it's anything but innocent.

he's spent the better part of an hour marking you up, leaving hickeys and bite marks all over your body. your neck, your chest, your thighs. shades of pink and red have bloomed all over your skin, and he's never looked prouder.

"jakey, 's not that i don't wanna," you say, soft and shaky. because of course you want to. it's all you've ever wanted. to feel his cock inside your cunt, for him to fuck like a dog in heat. "it's that i don't wanna mess this up."

"mess what up? us? angel, you could never. no matter what, okay? you seriously can't get rid of me that easy," he assures you, both efficiently and kindly. and in case his words aren't enough to soothe your doubt, he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, quick but lingering.

"really?"

"really. will you let me feel all of you now? hm? let me fuck you the way you deserve?"

"please," you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. that's all it takes for him to ease into you slowly, like he's trying to memorize this moment and keep it with himself forever. the groan that jake lets out at hearing your soft whimpers—it's straight up pornographic.

"this pussy is so much fuckin' better than my fist."

PARK SUNGHOON ── "you're leaking all over my dick, and still... you're going to say you don't want me?"

one thing park sunghoon always found joy in was teasing you. it didn't matter what for.

whether it was pointing out every time you'd stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, or still bringing up that one time from a year ago when you'd accidentally put the cereal in the fridge and the milk in the pantry—he was relentless when he wanted to be.

like now. especially now. just... instead of sidewalks and cereal boxes, it was the way you were a teary, needy mess, and still insisting that you didn't want any more than the tip of his thick cock.

you shake your head, trying to fight back a moan when he pinches your clit. "d—don't be mean, hoonie."

"i'm not being mean, sweets," sunghoon chides, but he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose nonetheless. "if anything, you're the one being mean. you're such a pretty little thing, thighs spread, all dripping for me... and you expect me not to want to fuck you all the way?"

he clicks his tongue, pushing a little further into you. he watches your eyes hit the back of your head, the cutest, breathiest sound leaving your mouth.

"please," you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders.

"please, what? i can't even tell what you're begging for, baby. 'please, hoonie, fuck me?' is that what you're begging for?"

"fuck—yeah," you blurt, before you can even process the words that are leaving your mouth. it seems to surprise him just as much, because his eyes go a little wide, and for someone who's spent the last thirty minutes with sharp, quick responses, he seems a little speechless.

"well, damn, baby. thought we'd be going back and forth a little while longer," he chuckles, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. "not really complaining, though."

when sunghoon fucks into you, it's so him. harsh and cruel, but with loving intention. the pace he sets is rough, and he really doesn't show you any mercy.

turns out, being a little mean can get you a long way.

KIM SUNOO ── "so insistent on playing this game, huh?"

"sun, it's not... It's not like that," you protest weakly, but the way sunoo's looking at you—like a man who's got the world at his fingertips and knows it—has the rest of your sentence dying on your tongue.

"what is it like, then? you just feel like being a brat?" sunoo's words are sharp, they always are, but never sharper than the feeling of his teeth nipping at your collarbone. he doesn't seem annoyed by the waiting game. a little impatient? well, yes.

not annoyed, though. not frustrated. just... bored. it isn't disinterested-bored. more like give-in-already-so-we-can-cut-to-the-chase-bored. it's different. it's cocky. because he knows you'll end up submitting to him.

the feeling of his tip pressing against the entrance of your wet heat makes you flinch, and it takes everything in you not to beg him to fuck you right then.

"i—i feel," you stutter, "like not losing us over some sex."

sunoo's head snaps up. "some sex?" he asks, almost sounding offended. no, scratch that, he does sound offended. "you're seriously underestimating how good of a fuck i am."

"that's not the point!" if he didn't have your hands pinned together above you, you'd hit him, because he's being so... sunoo. misinterpreting your words on purpose, teasing you, seeing how far he can push you until you snap. and both of you know you're already reaching your breaking point.

he lowers his head to the crook of your neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your chest. his lips wrap around your nipple, sucking and biting, committing your soft whimpers to memory.

"nothing'll happen to us just 'cause we had some earth-shattering sex. i mean it. if anything, you'll just become more obsessed with me," he snickers, dropping a hand between your legs to slip his fingers between your folds.

"fuck you."

"i'm clearly willing."

you're silent for a beat, but the sheer need for him, for wanting to get fucked dumb on his cock, is overwhelmingly loud. "fine," you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. he laughs, condescending, but it just makes you clench.

he pushes into you, and his dick fills you up, makes you feel so good, so full. sunoo's hips snap against yours, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. every thrust makes you cry out, and he drinks up the sweet sound.

"i'll show you some sex," he scoffs.

YANG JUNGWON ── "i know, pretty girl. i know. but you won't regret it."

his words are entirely too convincing. they fall from jungwon's mouth, easy and honey-sweet. there's a soft sheen of sweat on his skin, and the curve of his lashes has you melting into his touch.

"wonnie..." you whisper, soft and uncertain. like there's more you want to say, but can't find the words for.

jungwon just kisses you, his lips slotting against yours. and because he's him, your best friend for ages, you kiss him back. he tastes like strawberries and your coffee that he stole sips from.

he's already more than an inch in anyway, waiting for you to let him in all the way. "you're thinking s'loud," he murmurs, pulling away, a thin line of saliva connecting his mouth to yours. "i can hear you from here. don't overthink it. haven't even fucked you yet, and you're already squeezing around my cock."

his voice dips to a lower register, and he leans down by your ear, his breath hot. "just let yourself have it." the tone jungwon uses makes your face flush, and your heart skips a beat in your chest.

he always looks so gentle about everything, but there's a mocking lilt in his tone right now that makes you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

the movement makes him slip deeper into your cunt, and he groans, "fuck—fuck, princess. give a guy a warning, yeah? gonna make me cum just from that." jungwon's hips stutter as he readjusts, and he shifts his angle, needing more of you.

"sorry," you breathe, looking up at him. his hair is tousled, slightly unkempt from you running your hands through it. "i just... um, i like you. this. us. whatever 'us' is."

"yeah? same here, baby. i care about you too much to ever do anything to jeopardize us." he pauses, tucking hair behind your ear. "do you trust me?"

you don't hesitate. "yeah, wonnie. i do."

"good," he says, his lips meeting your temple. he looks at you, silently acknowledging what he's about to do. when you nod, he bottoms out, pushing himself all the way in. his cock drags against your walls, stretching you out on himself.

"mm—won—" you moan, grasping his arms to steady you.

"shit, you're such a good girl. feels nice, right? didn't i say it would?"

NISHIMURA RIKI ── "screw that promise, baby. to hell with it. this pussy's so perfect, s'begging to get fucked by me."

so far, riki's been true to his word. he's only an inch deep, but you know it's better than anything you've ever had before. he knows that, too—it's what makes him so confident.

"'ki, but you said—"

"angel, i say a whole lotta things. i definitely don't mean them all," he snorts, reaching down to rub your clit with his thumb. it makes your frown melt into an expression of bliss, the kind you only get from pleasure.

it doesn't help that riki's so pretty, and surely it doesn't make any of this easier. because he's the smug kind of pretty. the kind where he's fully aware and doesn't hesitate to use it to his own advantage.

it’s the way he looks at you like he already knows exactly what you’re thinking, and he’s just waiting for you to trip over your words first. it’s not even that he’s trying too hard; it’s just there, in that little tilt of his head or the way he lets a silence stretch out just a second too long.

he knows it gets under your skin. he knows it makes it impossible to actually stay mad at him, which is the worst part. you want to call him out on it, but then he smiles that specific way, and suddenly you’re the one who’s on the defensive.

trembling, you shake your head, though your resolve is wearing away. "friends don't fuck," you say, your tone hush.

"friends don't do whatever this is, either. if you're worrying about crossing some sort of line, i think we're a little far past that point."

you groan, burying your face in your hands. riki always has to go and make everything harder, doesn't he? in response, he just kisses your tit, and then your jaw, before finally pulling your hands into his.

"that doesn't make me feel better," you mumble.

"it wasn't really supposed to. i'm being honest, sweets. we're gonna be fine. we're gonna be okay."

finally, you sigh, "well, okay. i guess—"

you're cut off by his cock abruptly slamming straight into you, without so much as a warning. you cry out, back arching up as you sink your nails into the biceps of his arms.

mid-moan, you gasp, "what the fuck, riki!"

"sorry, fuck, sorry," he grunts, but by the way he isn't slowing down, you don't know if he means it. "ripped the bandaid off, angel."

riki leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy, wet kiss, swallowing the noises you make. with every ram of his hips against yours, you can feel his dick kisses your cervix, the way he throbs inside you, how his pelvis grinds against your clit.

h64: hello babies

permies:

his best friend, sunghoon, had once told him that the way he talked about you was concerning. even more, it got to a point that riki once threatened to throw jake's phone into the han river if he saw another picture of you as his lockscreen.

which was unfair, because riki simply didn’t understand art when he saw it.

everyone was simply jealous that he had the prettiest girlfriend in the world.

you were currently occupying every single wallpaper on his phone. his notes app was filled with things you liked that you’d casually mentioned six months ago: he was simply a man in love.

a very, very in love man.

but the thing about jake was that he never realized he was being sweet.

remembering how you take your coffee wasn’t sweet, it was common sense. carrying hair ties in his bag because you always lose yours wasn’t sweet either.

that’s just what boyfriends do, don’t they?

at least, that’s what he’d always say whenever you’d point it out.

today wasn’t much different.

practice had ended much later than expected and although jake had told you repeatedly not to wait for him, he should’ve known better than to think you’d actually listen.

you’d sent him a text three hours ago saying:

i’ll wait for my handsome boyfriend!!

i stole your hoodie btw.

ok i miss you :(

his favorite notifications were always the ones from you. unlocking the door to his apartment quietly, jake smiled softly at the sight before him.

there you were, curled up comfortably on the couch wearing his hoodie that looked far too big on you. your laptop remained abandoned beside you alongside a half-finished assignment and two empty snack wrappers.

you’d fallen asleep waiting for him. his expression softened almost immediately.

god.

you were so pretty.

he wondered if people would judge him if he cried at the sheer sight of his adorable girlfriend sleeping on his couch.

probably. he didn't care at all though.

placing his bag down quietly beside the door, he crouched down beside the couch to move a strand of hair away from your face. you’d waited all this time just to see him.

that thought alone made his heart feel impossibly warm. sometimes, jake wonders what he ever did to deserve loving someone as wonderful as you.

and perhaps more importantly, what he’d done to deserve being loved by you too.

you shifted slightly in your sleep, reaching instinctively for his hand the moment your fingers brushed against his.

“…jake?” you whispered sleepily, eyes barely opening.

“go back to sleep, pretty girl.”

“you’re home.”

he laughed quietly at the smile immediately appearing on your face despite being half asleep.

“i am.”

“I missed you.” you let out quietly.

three simple words.

three words that somehow still managed to make his heart skip a beat after all this time.

“i missed you more, pretty.”

“that’s impossible.”

“is it?” he smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “i’ve been missing you since breakfast.” jake chuckled, his hand meeting your face as he cupped your cheek. you giggled sleepily at his response.

you laughed quietly as he sat down beside you, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist while you buried your head against his shoulder.

it was moments like these that made him realize he’d choose this life over and over again if he could.

he took a second to just look at your face, how could anyone be this beautiful? he thought to himself, "my beautiful girl..." he muttered under his breath, his thumb gently stroking your face.

coming home to you. holding you after long days. watching you fall asleep in his arms while rambling about your day.

“did you eat?” you suddenly asked, looking up at him worriedly despite being half asleep yourself.

“i did.”

“really?”

“you know... 'cuz half a sandwich counts, right?”

you sat up immediately.

“SIM JAKE.”

“MY BABY I’M SORRY.”

he smiled helplessly as you began lecturing him about proper eating habits for what was probably the hundredth time this month. he wasn’t listening particularly well, admittedly.

mostly because he was busy thinking about how pretty you looked when you cared about him.

perhaps he was concerning. because if loving you this much was concerning, then he had absolutely no intentions of getting better.

after all, you were his favorite person in the world. and jake thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life making sure you know that.

every single day.

“Ah, sorry.” He immediately retracts. 

It was an accident. He didn’t even realize you were there until he almost walked on top of you. The papers you were holding were scattered across the floor. 

You say nothing, calmly bending down to pick them up. Yoichi stutters, but falls silent when he notices the lack of translators on your ears. You obviously didn’t know Japanese, and he isn’t sure if his English is that good to carry on a conversation. 

Instead, he sits next to you, helping you gather the pages. When he hands you the last one, you meet his gaze and smile. 

You have a pretty smile. He didn’t know why it took him so long to notice before. 

He sees you a lot more after that. It’s like learning the name of a color he hadn't seen before, and finding its hue wherever he looked.

But then he starts noticing a few things he shouldn’t have. 

How nobody else in Bastard München brought their partners to Blue Lock. How you sat in the bleachers during every practice. How quiet you were. How you’d never talk to anyone, except for Kaiser. 

Only to Kaiser. 

Your relationship with him is a little strange. You’re like his shadow, with him whenever he’s not on the field, and lingering on the side when he is. You sit quietly by his side during meal times. He wouldn’t be surprised if the two of you shared a room. 

He keeps noticing Kaiser would always have some sort of contact with you. A hand on your waist. A loose hold on your shoulder. His weight slightly leaned against yours. Anyone else would call it affection. Critics might call it ‘too much PDA’. 

Yoichi keeps thinking of it like control. 

It feels corrupt. He wants to brush that thought away immediately. He doesn’t like Kaiser. He hates Kaiser. To him, Kaiser resembles poison. He needs to step on the King and crush if he wants to get any better. 

But Yoichi can’t bring himself to think Kaiser could do something like this. 

(He only heard your voice once. It was so soft, barely a whisper as you leaned into Kaiser’s side, saying something in his ear. Yoichi didn’t even know what you said, but you had a nice voice. It’s almost as nice as your smile) 

It’s not often, but whenever Yoichi would find you alone, he’d smile at you. It was quick, barely even a glance. He didn’t know why he did it. You didn’t know him. He barely knew you. Maybe it was because he wanted to give you a glimpse of friendliness. Maybe it was because he knew it was the only interaction you had that didn't involve Kaiser. Maybe it was because none of the other players ever even glanced at you.

You’d smile back. It felt enough. 

It’s moments like these where Yoichi feels something bubble inside his stomach. Hot and fluctuating. It builds up and up and up. 

Everything collides, not on the field, but during a random training session. 

It was purely an accident. They were running laps when Kaiser brushed past him. It was yet another ploy to bait him, Yoichi knew that. 

He fell for it anyway. 

Everyone stops when the two hands of Bastard München clash. Kaiser’s grin is infuriating as they stand toe-to-toe together. In the background, Kurona is saying something. Maybe it’s some words to calm both players down. Yoichi isn’t sure. He’s barely listening. 

Maybe they both could’ve walked away if Yoichi hadn’t looked. 

It was barely a glance. His eyes stray from Kaiser’s to look at the bleachers, where you sat. 

Kaiser catches it. 

The punch to Yoichi’s face lacks any mercy, and the thing swirling within Yoichi’s stomach breaks. 

In the end, Raichi breaks the fight. It barely lasted a minute, a scuffle at most. There are scratches all over Kaiser’s face. Yoichi can taste blood in his mouth. 

His teammates from Blue Lock crowd around him. Kurona asks if he needs an ice pack. He’s glancing out from the crowd. He can only watch as Kaiser stomps to where you quietly sit. His grip on your elbow is too tight when he drags you away. 

He doesn’t see you until days later. There’s a large mark at the base of your neck. It was clearly meant to be seen. A claim. 

You never look at him ever again.