🪷 Ariadne 🪷

Though letting himself into your apartment like this was nothing new, had become a part of your routine for months at this point, if you're honest, there was something that had been feeling different about Valko's visits to you lately. Less vexing and more… comforting.

An increased awareness of him, maybe? The sound of his voice. His size. The way his laugh and personality managed to fill the room more than his bulky body. Of the way he always tripped over your living room rug or tried to sneak a rub of his scent into every pillow. Of the way he stood so close when he spoke to you, capturing you in the sweet honey of his eyes.

It was something warm that pulsed in your chest, something intimate that had started to hook your gaze to his mouth and magnetize your palms to his skin even today, when you're at your lowest.

His right ear twitches at the sound of his name as he grabs your phone from the floor, a crease of distaste scrunching his nose when he clicks on the screen to stop the noise and tsks, "Looks like my 'dogs are better than cats' speech needs some work."

"Maybe I'll be more in the mood to hear you out–" you take your phone back and set it on the table with a huff, "–when my 'please use the damn front door' speech finally penetrates that thick skull of yours."

A crooked grin scrawls over his face. The pointed tips of his incisors reflecting the dim light of the small lamp you'd flicked on purely to save you from feeling like a complete gremlin while you moped this evening.

"Gonna tell you the same thing I tell Ma every time she says that." He unfurls from the crouching position he'd been in and drops his weight beside you, making your normally sizeable loveseat suddenly feel cramped. "Processing info is for the ears, not the skull."

Resting your cheek in your palm, you narrow your eyes at him with a considering hum.

"What?" Your uninvited houseguest turns to face you, eliciting a concerning creak from the loveseat as his knee comes up to rest on the cushion and his arm drapes over the back. An oversized paw just shy of brushing your shoulder. "What d'you mean, 'hm?'"

"Trespasser, jumpscaring people, terrible manners, and a smart ass to your mother?" You note each transgression by holding up a finger. "No wonder you're always prowling around Linkon alone."

"Hey, hey! Woah, woah, hold on." His hand darts forward, covering yours like it'll hide the evidence. "No– I mean– sure I may be some of those things, but trust me," he puts one of your fingers down and leans forward, another sad groan coming from below the cushion as he rests his elbow on his knee. "I wouldn't be sitting here, or hanging out with you – or breathing – if I were a smart ass to my mother."

Despite yourself, you feel the corner of your lip twitch, the closest you’ve come to a smile all day.

It surprises you how naturally it comes, how much lighter you feel, as you take in his easy grin, his warm palms, his artless gaze. Makes you worry that you're becoming used to this feeling, to something you might be misreading.

"Why?"

"Well, she has this really brutal way of grabbing you by the ear and–"

"No–" the word dissolves on a giggle that has both his ears twitching and an expression you can't quite interpret crossing his face. "I mean, why are you sitting here? Hanging out with me?"

"Oh. I kind of–" He stops, a hint of pink creeping onto his cheeks as he looks down at your still-linked hands. "I mean, I sorta felt like something was… off. With you." You're suddenly glad for the loss of his gaze as he starts to fiddle with your fingers, pressing the pads of his fingers to the tops of your nails as if to test their sharpness. "It's like a.. tug?"

Your mind races with panic as you realize just how much your attraction to him has been tugging at you over his last few visits. "Are you saying that with this– this bond or whatever, you can feel my emotions?"

"Nah, it's not like that." You hope he can't see the stark relief in your gaze when his eyes meet yours again, letting go of your hand to press a palm to the center of his chest. "It's not emotions that call me, it's, well… you. Calling me, that is. Needing me. Or, pulling at me, more like."

Your brows arc upward. "Like a leash?"

His head shoots back dramatically, paired with a groan that sounds almost as distressed as the loveseat still suffering under his weight. "Mercy, little hellion. Let a man keep at least a little dignity." He shakes his head with a bark of self-deprecating laughter. "But yeah. You've got me leashed up good. Happy?"

His question is gentle but pointed, hopeful. His frame still leaning over you, an umbrella shielding you from the sadness and negativity that have been pelting you all day.

Your chest warms at the sight, making it all the harder to respond with a sad smile and the shake of your head as the all the reasons you're not happy come flooding back.

"Alright," he says easily, unphased and unrelenting. A considering look enters his eyes. "Just means I've gotta take more drastic measures here."

In a blur of movements you barely have time to process, he turns his back to you, kicks off his boots – an oddly polite gesture that has you reconsidering just how serious he was about that leash comment – and flops backward. The broad span of his shoulders forces your bent knees down to accommodate the weight of his head as it nestles into your thighs.

"V-Valko! What are you doing?" you stutter, heartbeat galloping as the scent of amber and pine and him wash over you. His ear twitches as he takes your awkwardly hovering hands, placing one behind the wolf ear on his right and the other behind the human ear on his left.

"There," he says with a wiggle of his shoulders, like your thighs are a pillow he's nestling into.

When he notices your hands haven't budged, he gives you an expectant look, nudging the sides of his head into your palms until your lips twitch and your fingers start to move.

"This is your drastic measure?"

He hums in response, eyelashes fluttering as your nails scrape gently over a rose-coloured mix of silky hair and plush fur.

"And this is supposed to…" The question trails off but your hands continue.

He shrugs, the heat of his shoulders anchoring your thighs as one of his arms sneaks around your waist.

"I dunno, distract you? Annoy you, comfort you, take your pick." His eyes lock onto yours, sincere, earnest. "Whatever you need."

The combination of his touch and his words act like a stick of dynamite, blasting through the boulder of tension and worry that's been sitting on your chest all day.

You take a deep breath as he sighs in what you instinctually know is relief. And for the first time since he's mentioned this "bond" of yours, you think, maybe this thing goes both ways.

The thought that you might be starting to figure him out as well as he always seems to understand you brings a small smile to your face.

His lips mirror yours. "That's what I like to see," he says, voice low.

You roll your eyes and flick his ear to disguise the way your stomach flips when the praise rumbles through your thighs, flexing them to jostle him and joke, "What? Me being suffocated?"

His finger comes up to tap the end of your nose with a self-assured grin. "Stop pretending you dont like it, I saw that weighted blanket on your bed." You're not sure if it's you or the loveseat that squeaks when he tugs you into his face and nuzzles into your stomach. "Wanna tell me what's got you down?"

There's something about Valko's bluntness, about his willingness to tackle everything head-on, that catches you more off-guard than his casual and abundant displays of affection ever do. It's straightforward, without artifice. And though there's no hesitation in his request, there's somehow no pressure in it either. As if no response you give him could ever result in offense or resentment or awkwardness, making it feel like the most natural thing in the world to tell the unvarnished truth.

So you do.

"It's just… everything? I don't know, it's all piling up. Like, there's work, lack of sleep, friends I'm not keeping up with, not to mention the general state of the world."

You pause, finding his attentive gaze already on you when you look down to see if you're making any sense. He nods encouragingly, the ears on his head twitching in unison like an attentive audience.

"So I guess I've just been thinking about it all and it feels a little overwhelming. Right here." You press a hand to your chest. "And… heavy, I guess. Like–" You raise a pointed brow. "Like getting crushed by a giant mutt on my own sofa."

His jaw drops in dramatic affront. “You– did you just-” He snaps into a sitting position, your loveseat groaning in despair before he points a finger at himself, as if there could be anyone else you were talking about. “Mutt?! Oh you just crossed a line, you hellion.”

Any response you might’ve had morphs into a high-pitched squeal as you’re scooped up by a muscular arm and thrown over his shoulder.

“Valko! What are you doing? Put me down,” you manage through giggles and laughter as he hauls you to the bedroom with what sounds like a muttered 'I’ll show you a giant mutt.'

You land on the mattress with a breathless oomph, the stray laughs bubbling from your throat feeling foreign but welcome as Valko descends over your figure in an army crawl, finally stopping when you're nose to nose.

Your chests meet on each breath as he reaches up to brush hair from your face. His eyes seem more yellow than amber in the dim light, like marigolds, and you can't think of anything more fitting for the resilient, protective man above you.

"Hi," you breathe, grinning wide.

"Hello, gorgeous," he murmurs, darting a glance at your lips that has your heartbeat pounding against your ribs.

The shadow of his tail swishes behind him as he lowers his weight onto you, fitting his body over yours in a way that anchors and comforts you rather than stifles you.

"Better?" He mumbles into your neck, the heat of his breath awakening gooseflesh over your collarbones. "You know, now that you've made my pedigree your punching bag?"

"Yeah, actually," you realize with a giggle, fingers brushing over the soft bristles of his undercut. "I do."

You haven't laughed this much in a while. In fact, despite being pinned under the heaviest man you know, you haven't felt this light for a few weeks now, you think, which was… the last time he visited you. You close your eyes briefly, mourning the loss of your sanity at the realization that he was right earlier. You had needed him.

"Then listen to me real quick." Your hand slips to his jaw when he raises his head, his smile smaller, his eyes intent. "Next time you feel overwhelmed, or if it's all feeling like too much, you don't have to isolate yourself, or doomscroll, or muscle through it alone. I know I look like I'm all brains but I can help carry things. So just call me, yeah?"

You smile, agreeing with a small nod, pausing before you joke, "With the leash?"

"Okay, who's the smart ass now?" he mutters with a shake of his head, crooked grin back in place. "I meant with a phone. But the leash works too, I guess."

"What's it like?" you ask, curious for the first time since you've learned of it.

"The bond?" His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, a knuckle tracing your cheek. "It's like one of those less traveled paths in the woods. Barely visible to the naked eye, but once you find it and start walking on it, everything starts to feel… right."

"Your chest gets really warm and you have this zappy feeling in your gut." His lips tip up in a faraway smile as his eyes follow the path his knuckle makes over your ear, your neck, your collarbones. "Everything feels possible when it's there. Lighter. And when it's gone? Anything you do feels wrong. Empty."

"But…" You swallow past the heartbeat in your throat. "I thought you couldn't feel my emotions," you protest weakly.

A spark ignites in his eyes, electric enough to charge the air between you as his expression morphs into what you can only identify as a primal satisfaction. He inhales deeply, as if he's trying to memorize the scent of this moment, holding your gaze as his eyelids lower.

"I can't," he breathes, so close his nose brushes against yours when he shakes his head. "Those were all mine."

Your lips part, tongue hovering in wait between your teeth as his palm comes up under your chin, fingers settling on both sides of your jaw to draw you in. Your eyes shut as his lips descend over yours, and despite the warmth of his palm, the first brush of his tongue feel like being doused in flame. You wrap your arms around his neck on a moan, humming when he tilts your head to lick into your mouth again and again.

"Valko." The soft, fuzzy sensation of his buzzed hair grazes your knuckles and he sighs into your mouth, as if you're breathing life back into him with the sound of his name.

You take the chance to nip at his lip, holding it hostage between yours until he answers in kind. The sharpness of his teeth like bee stings on your mouth, soothed only by the sweet honey of a tongue that's licking, tasting, consuming the flushed skin between your lips and your throat.

His body sinks into yours, each of his muscles and contours taking shape around yours like heated metal, a weapon being forged for its master, its weight the heaviest thing you'll ever have to carry again.

➻➻ MASTERLIST

NOTE: They can take my undomesticated wolf man from me in the game but he will live on as a terrible house guest in my delusions forever xoxo

kim seungmin is the smart, annoying friend who always reminds everyone about deadlines two weeks in advance. he is the boy who carries a bag heavier than his own body because he insists on bringing every book “just in case”. he is the boy who sighs whenever one of your friends makes a stupid decision but then immediately helps them anyway.

kim seungmin is the boy who complains the loudest and loves the hardest. 

he loves studying and he loves his colour coded notes and neat handwriting and he also loves getting the highest grade and acting like he doesn’t care much about it.

he likes his routines - waking up at eight, having coffee with exactly one sugar, listening to the same playlists over and over again, walking to university instead of taking the bus because he likes to dedicate those extra fifteen minutes to think.

his life is simple, comfortable and very predictable. or at least most of it is, except for the parts of his life that concern you. 

not that he ever tells you this, god forbid.

because seungmin is brave enough to argue with your professors, brave enough to tell strangers when they’re wrong, brave enough to stand up for every single one of your friends. but when it comes to you? he is pathetic, absolutely hopeless.

you had met years ago during your first year at university, he remembers it with embarrassing clarity - you were sitting one row ahead of him, your hair messy because you had been late to class and your cheeks still red from running across campus. the professor had asked a question and you - very confidently, he has to say - had given the wrong answer. he had laughed at your answer, like a full and proper snort escaped him, and you just turned around and glared at him, making him freeze in his seat. 

“you think it’s funny?”, you had asked him, narrowing your eyes.

he stopped laughing immediately and shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours, and somehow, that was your beginning, because your hatred for him lasted only those twenty seconds, maybe even less, and after that, your friendship began.

now you are inseparable and seungmin thinks that everything about you two is normal, or at least he likes to pretend that it’s normal when he texts you good morning every day, when he walks on the side closest to traffic when you’re together, when he keeps your favourite snacks in his bag, when he knows which things make your eyes light up and when he knows when you’re lying about being okay.

sometimes he thinks he knows you better than he knows himself, and maybe that’s exactly why he’s doomed, because he is completely and utterly in love with you. he knows it, and he also knows that it’s embarrassing and stupid, because now everything revolves around you. every accomplishment means nothing if he can’t tell you first and every joke becomes funnier if you laugh at it.

he tries to ignore his feelings at first, but of course, he fails miserably, because every time you smile at him, his brain short circuits. he’s completely gone and every single one of your friends knows it.

“you are disgusting”, changbin tells him one day.

seungmin frowns, “i’m literally doing nothing”

“you’re staring at y/n as she walks away”

he scoffs and ignores him, but he spends the next ten minutes wondering if it’s so obvious that everyone can see it. well, everyone except you. or maybe you do see it and you just haven’t said anything because you don’t feel the same way and you want to be nice, to still be friends.

seungmin doesn’t know and he’s too scared to find out, so he settles for your friendship and your late night phone calls as well as your movie nights and walking you home every time you go out. 

but he also likes to think that maybe, just maybe, the universe will help him someday, and maybe one day you’ll realise how he looks at you and you’ll look at him the same way. 

but until then, he just wants to be enough for you, your best friend and the person you can rely on. he wants to be good for you, in every possible way, even in ways that he doesn’t understand yet, which becomes a problem because unlike most of your friends, seungmin has exactly zero experience when it comes to romance, and even less when it comes to sex.

zero, nothing, nada. 

he’s never had a girlfriend, never kissed anyone, never gone on a proper date. the closest thing he has to experience is reading awkward advice forums at three in the morning, which he thinks it’s ridiculous, because now, he’s twenty-something and your last year at university is finally here. 

he’s an adult and he still blushes whenever your friends make dirty jokes, he still coughs awkwardly and looks away when there’s a sex scene on tv, and he still pretends to check his phone whenever your friends talk about who they went home with the night before or how many times they came that weekend.

it’s embarrassing, especially because lately he can’t stop thinking about you. not in a bad way, no, not because he wants to disrespect you, it’s quite the opposite really. he likes you so much that he wants to understand relationships better, he wants to know what to do to make you happy, he wants to know how to be caring and gentle but also rough, he wants to know how to make you feel good just in case he ever has the chance to.

so he decides to do some research, because that’s what he always does, research everything. he starts with educational websites, reading some articles and medical journals as well as safe relationship guides. 

he takes notes - yes, actual notes - and reads for hours, learning absolutely nothing useful because every single web says the same things: communicate with your partner, respect your boundaries, be honest, don’t force things… and they are good points obviously, but it’s nothing he didn’t know before and they don’t answer the questions he’s too embarrassed to say out loud.

what if he’s awkward?

what if he’s inexperienced forever?

what if one day you like him back and he disappoints you?

what if you decide to walk away from him? 

those questions keep him awake at night, so eventually, and hesitantly, with his face burning bright red, and in the privacy of his room when he knows changbin is already sleeping in his, he starts looking elsewhere, on different pages, pages where people share their experiences. then he moves to pages where people share videos, pages he had never dared visit before.

he sees one that’s a bit different from the others, a page that shows livestreams too, not just recordings. his cursor hovers over the link for a bit before he rubs his face. he tells himself that this is only to find and learn new things, that he’s only doing this because he has been hopelessly in love with you for years and wants to learn every way to hopefully make you feel good one day, to not make a fool of himself and learn things that you may like. 

his hand hesitates a bit more and then with a racing heart and enough embarrassment to last a lifetime, he decides to explore a world he knows absolutely nothing about and clicks on the link. the screen flashes and a new tab opens, bathing his dorm room in the pale blue glow of it. he sees multiple videos at first before he opens one where a girl is in nothing but a thin white tank top and panties, sitting cross-legged on her bed. her nipples are already stiff against the fabric and she keeps rubbing herself through her underwear, the damp spot growing darker with every pass.

seungmin’s throat goes dry and he closes the livestream fast.

he opens a new one, the girl there naked from her waist down as she fingers herself with two fingers. he sees the chat going crazy, people sending donations and comments, and when he feels his face burn again he closes that livestream too.

another click, another girl, this time lying on her back with her legs spread wide. the livestream doesn’t fully load before seungmin closes that one too, his heart hammering inside his chest. 

he keeps clicking, each new livestream more explicit than the last and then, he finds one that makes him stop when he opens it.

the girl is on her knees in the centre of her bed, her face carefully cropped out of frame. she is wearing a black bra and matching panties and something about the way she moves makes seungmin freeze. she reaches up and cups her breasts over the bra, her thumbs brushing back and forth over her nipples. from the corner of his eye, seungmin can see the chat going crazy, as the comments and donations never stop.

leethighs: fuck yes

aussielord: i’m so hard take everything off 

the girl ignores the comment and keeps touching herself, squeezing and rubbing until her breathing grows heavier. seungmin swallows hard and his hand drifts down without permission and presses against the growing bulge in his pants which he didn’t realise until now. every single sound that comes from the girl makes his stomach twist with a confusing mix of shame and heat and even though he tells himself he is only doing this for research, his cock is already hard and ready to explode. 

the girl on the screen hooks her thumbs into her panties and moves just enough to push them down her thighs and kick them off. then she reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, leaving her completely naked, with her knees spread and her cunt on full display. the camera angle is low enough that seungmin can see everything, including her folds and the way her clit peeks out when she moves. 

she reaches down and traces two fingers along her folds, a moan slipping out of her. seungmin’s hand moves on its own, taking his cock out and giving it one slow stroke, biting his lip to keep quiet. the girl spreads her legs wider and uses her fingers to part her folds, showing the camera how wet she already is. she circles her clit a few times and then slides one finger inside herself, moaning again.

seungmin’s grip tightens and he strokes himself in time with her movements, his eyes glued to the screen, completely hypnotised. 

quokkjone: fuck yourself for us

midnightwolf: such a good girl

maknaeontop: i’m gonna come just watching you

artprince69: add another finger

the girl obeys this time and pushes a second finger inside herself as her hips rock forward to meet her own hand. her moans grow breathier and higher, she’s almost screaming now, letting the sounds fall out of her as she fucks herself harder. 

seungmin’s hand moves faster, his eyes locked on the girl’s cunt, watching the way her fingers disappear inside her again and again. he imagines what it would feel like to be the one inside her, no, how it would feel like to be inside you, making you scream like the girl in the livestream is doing right now. he imagines you, spread open like that for him, begging for him, and the thought alone makes his cock twitch hard in his fist, his orgasm growing faster and unstoppable now. 

the girl adds a third finger, her moans turning into cries now. her free hand moves to pinch one nipple, the chat going feral at this point.

maknaeontop: you look so pretty like this fuck

leethighs: three fingers in i bet you like it rough

he is panting now, trying to stay quiet and not wake changbin up, but he can’t stop looking at the girl and how her fingers keep moving as her moans never stop. her thighs start to tremble and then she comes hard, her juices leaking out around her fingers as she keeps rubbing her clit through her orgasm. 

seungmin’s stokes grow frantic and then his orgasm hits him like a punch, his hips jerking as his cum shoots across his stomach and hand, his vision going white for a second. he keeps stroking his cock through his orgasm, milking every drop as he watches the girl on screen pull her fingers out. she leans forward just enough for the camera to catch the movement of her hand and then, she waves once and ends the stream. 

seungmin sits there in the sudden silence, the screen with the image of the girl close to the camera now, his chest heaving and his cock softening in his sticky hand. his cum is cooling on his skin as he stares at the “stream ended” message. he feels his face burn with embarrassment, he hadn’t meant for this to happen. he just wanted to learn, to understand, to find things, to hopefully be good for you one day.

instead he had just jerked off to a stranger while imagining it was you who was spread open and screaming for him.

two weeks, fourteen days, that’s long enough for everyone to notice how seungmin keeps disappearing. not completely, because he still shows up to every class and hands in every assignment on time, but the moment class ends, he’s gone.

he doesn’t linger in the hallway, he doesn’t grab coffee with all of you, there’s no spontaneous movie nights, no teasing you until you threaten to throw your book at him. nothing, he always has an excuse.

“i can’t, i have to study”

“not today, i have to do some research for a project” 

to be honest they’re believable excuses, they’re seungmin excuses, and nobody questions them. and to be fair, he really does some research, just not the one you all expected him to do.

the first livestream should have been the last one, that’s the first thing he told himself the morning after he watched it. he woke up and deleted his browser history, then avoided opening his laptop for almost the entire day. he promised himself that what had happened was a mistake born from curiosity and that he would move on and forget it happened.

but what happened instead was that that same evening, he caught himself wondering if that girl would stream again that day, then he opened his laptop and found the page and the same girl again, embarrassingly fast he has to admit. he told himself he would look at the account for a minute, just to prove himself that the fascination was gone.

but it wasn’t.

one minute became thirty and thirty became an hour and then he had learnt the days she usually goes live, according to the schedule she had posted. and without meaning to, he started planning his days around her schedule and whenever there wasn’t a livestream, he would watch the old ones, archived in previous recordings. 

there are lots of them, more than he expected, and the girl always starts and ends the livestream with a small wave, which makes her seem less like a stranger. that thought unsettles him a bit because he knows he shouldn’t feel familiar with someone he’s never met, he shouldn’t feel familiar with a girl who he watches with her fingers buried deep inside her as his hand strokes his cock wishing it was someone else’s hand instead.

he wonders why he feels so familiar with her and then, one day, he realises the reason he can’t look away, the reason why something about her has felt strangely familiar from the very beginning - it’s her silhouette, her body.

it reminds him of you, of your body.

when he realises, he closes his eyes and shakes his head. he hates himself for even thinking about it because it feels invasive, wrong. the comparison comes from last summer when you all went on a weekend trip and he saw you wearing your bikini when you went to the beach. it wasn’t too revealing, just a normal bikini, but he remembers how hard he had tried not to stare at you, how hard he had to convince himself he wasn’t staring.

apparently his memory had been sharper than he realised.

now whenever he sees that girl, he sees you. he sees her body and wishes it was yours, he sees her fingers parting her folds and circling her clit and he wishes it was your fingers entering you instead. or even better, he wishes that girl was you and he was the one who had his fingers inside you, well his fingers or whatever it was that you wanted from him. 

and every time he sees you now, the real you and not a figure of his imagination when he has his hands on his cock, guilt settles in his chest like a stone. because even though this all started with him wanting to learn and be good for a possible, hypothetical future where you two are together, the reality now is that he will masturbate while he watches a stranger and thinks about you. he wonders when things got out of hand. 

so, when the second saturday after his little livestreams adventure started comes, all of your friends plan to go to the cinema and have dinner outside, just a little break from all your exams and what not. but to no one’s surprise, seungmin decides to stay in, because he has to do some…

‘research’

changbin says goodbye and clicks the door of their dorm shut behind him. seungmin waits one minute, then a bit more, and only when he’s completely sure that changbin won’t suddenly come back because he forgot his wallet or his phone or something, he closes the door of his room and reaches for his laptop. he opens the page that he knows by heart already and then, enters the account and a small message appears at the top.

live in five minutes.

his heart is already pounding like he had run up four flights of stairs. he shifts in his chair, already half-hard from the anticipation alone and he wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs. then the stream loads and the live begins.

the girl is on her knees in the middle of her bed, her face cropped out like always. she’s wearing a baby blue lace bra that barely qualifies as clothing, leaving very little to the imagination, if anything at all, and the delicate cups are sheer enough that her nipples are seen through the fabric. she’s not wearing panties this time, her bare hips and thighs are on full display, but because of how she’s sitting, her cunt isn’t visible for now. seungmin’s cock gives a hard and immediate twitch inside his boxers.

the girl lifts one hand and gives the camera that same familiar wave and the chat starts working, people already sending their comments and donations.

artprince69: fuck yeah she’s back

quokkjone: that bra and no panties? you’re criminal

aussielord: take it off already

seungmin’s mouth goes dry and he presses the heel of his hand against his swelling cock while he bites his lip. the girl brings both hands up to cup her breasts over the lace, her thumbs dragging slow circles over her nipples until the fabric tents even more. the lace looks so delicate against her skin that seungmin can almost feel how soft it is.

she reaches off-screen for a moment and when her hand comes back into frame, it’s holding something new - a big and thick dildo. seungmin lets out an involuntary groan, his cock getting harder just from imagining what she’s gonna do. she has never used a toy on a live before and the sight of it in her hand makes his cock throb painfully.

the chat goes feral, more donations coming and the comments going absolutely crazy.

leethighs: ride that until you squirt 

maknaeontop: i wish it was my cock instead

midnightwolf: the princess wants to play with fire tonight

seungmin shoves his clothes to his thighs until his cock springs free, already leaking. he wraps his hand around the base and gives one slow stroke as his eyes stay locked on the girl. she leans forwards just enough for her mouth to enter the frame and then she parts her lips and lets a long and thick string of spit drip from her tongue onto the tip of the dildo. the saliva runs down the toy and she uses her hand to spread it, making it slick and shiny.

seungmin’s grip tightens, as he imagines that spit was yours and that toy was his cock, he imagines that you were the one getting it ready for him, and that thought makes his hips jerk upwards into his hand.

the girl shifts on the bed, spreading her knees wider, letting everyone see her cunt now, her clit peeking out and her entrance clenching visibly as she positions herself. she holds the dildo beneath her and then begins to lower herself. seungmin’s breath punches out of him in a ragged moan as the toy disappears inside her. she pauses halfway, breathing hard, and then sinks the rest of the way until her ass meets the bed and the toy is completely inside her, a broken moan slipping out of her.

seungmin strokes himself faster, matching her pace as she begins to move, rising up until just the tip remains inside her and then dropping back down, taking every inch again. one of her hands comes up to squeeze her breasts through the lace, pinching her nipple hard enough to make her scream. 

aussielord: that’s it keep riding that toy sunshine

artprince69: fuck i already came from seeing this

midnightwolf: good girl, taking it like a champ 

seungmin barely registers the comments, as his hand keeps flying up and down his cock. in his mind the girl on screen is you, he pictures your body in that baby blue lace and your cunt swallowing his cock instead of the toy, your moans and screams filling his room instead of hers. he imagines reaching up to tug the bra down, freeing your breasts so he can suck on your nipples while you ride him.

the girl starts riding the toy faster, her moans almost desperate now. her free hand moves to her clit, her thighs shaking with the new sensation. the dildo is soaked, shiny with her arousal and every time she lifts off it leaves a string of wetness connecting her pussy to the toy, and the only thing seungmins wants to do is lick it clean. he can feel his orgasm building fast, hotter and heavier than anything he has felt before.

the girl’s movements grow erratic and then her back arches and she finally comes, screaming as one of her hands keeps pinching her nipple and the other circles her clit. a long and broken cry tears from her throat and seungmin comes with her, his cum shooting from his cock and splattering across his hand, his thighs and his t-shirt. the mess is everywhere but he can’t stop looking at the girl and how her cunt still flutters around the dildo.

she lifts herself off the toy slowly, and then she holds the glistening toy up for the camera one last time. she leans forward just enough to wave goodbye and then ends the livestream, the thumbnail of the video being a full and clear image of the baby blue lace bra and her nipples still visible through the lace.

seungmin sits there staring at it, his chest heaving and his cock softening in his hand. his thighs are still shaking and even though that guilt and heat start a war in his chest again, the image of that bra on the screen stays burned behind his eyelids, he can’t look away. his breathing is still uneven, his heart refusing to settle as guilt washes over him.

he drags a trembling hand over his face, “what is wrong with me…”

he doesn’t close the page, he can’t - the thumbnail remains on the screen, frozen exactly where the stream ended. he snaps the laptop shut, hiding the screen for now, pretending that this never happened. he lets out a long breath and then stands up, moving to grab a clean towel and then heading straight for the bathroom.

the cold water from the shower spills over his shoulders, making him flinch immediately. he welcomes it and hopes that it will help him, because he is still thinking about the girl and you, which makes him half-hard again. 

it helps a little but not enough to erase the embarrassment nor to erase the fact that every time he closes his eyes, he sees fragments of the live replaying in his mind, hoping it was you instead. he presses both hands against the wall, shaking his head.

“this is getting ridiculous”, he says to no one in particular.

it is getting a bit ridiculous if he has to be honest, because he started doing this so he could learn and find things that you could like and now? he’s in his dorm, organising his days around a girl he’s never met, making excuses to his friends and avoiding the one person he actually wants to spend time with.

you. 

the irony isn’t lost on him.

when he finishes showering, he goes to his room and pulls on a hoodie and a pair of grey sweatpants and then goes to the kitchen. he opens the cupboards, staring blankly inside, trying to choose what to eat but before he can pull something off the shelf, the bell rings. seungming freezes, he’s not expecting anyone, changbin would use the code and all of your friends are at the cinema. 

another knock, softer this time, and then a voice, “seungmin?”

his heart stops when he realises it’s your voice. every guilty thought crashes back into him all at once and then he quickly smooths down the front of his hoodie as though that somehow could wash away all of them.

“coming!”, he says, his voice cracking.

wonderful.

he walks to the door, clears his throat and then opens it. you’re standing there with an overnight bag over your shoulder and a plastic bag dangling from your wrist.  

you grin the moment you see him, “hello stranger”

“i…”, he says, blinking, “i thought everyone was going to the cinema”

“they are”, you say and he frowns, “but i knew you weren’t gonna go, so i came here instead”

his ears immediately burn, “i’ve been busy”

“mmhm”, you say, not sounding very convinced.

“i really was”, he says.

“mmhm”, you say again. 

before he can think of another excuse, you slip past him into the dorm as though you’ve done it a thousand times before, which you have to be honest. 

“okay so seeing that you’ve been so… “busy”, we’re gonna have our own movie night”, you say as you turn to look at him and hold up the bag you have with you.

he walks towards you and looks inside - he sees popcorn, chocolate, cookies, his favourite drink, your favourite candy.

“you know you can't just invite yourself over, you know?”, he says, teasing you, trying to act as normal as he can.

“too bad i already did”, you say, giving him the bag and then turning around, walking towards his room. 

he walks to the kitchen again just as he hears the squeak of his bed when you flop onto it, before you speak again.

“seungmin!”

“what?”, he says from the kitchen.

“bring food”

“you already brought food”

“no, i brought my food”

he laughs without looking at you, the knot in his chest loosening just a little.

“you’re unbelievable”, he says to himself, but somehow you still hear him.

“i know!”

he shakes his head, unable to stop smiling. he gets some of your snacks and also others for him because you’re really serious about your food and not sharing it and he learnt that lesson the hard way. he then walks to his room, settling everything down on the desk, beside his laptop, before he clumps onto the bed with you. 

“so”, he says, “what are we watching?”

you gasp and turn to look at him, “you mean i get to choose?”

“i didn’t say that”, he says, turning to look at you.

“you implied it”

“i absolutely didn’t”

“you did”

“i really didn’t”

you stick your tongue at him and he laughs, turning to look at the ceiling.

“okay, so… romance?”, you say.

“absolutely no”

“minnie!”

“what?”

“why not? you know they’re my favourite”, you say, hitting his shoulder.

“y/n, they’re too predictable and full of cliches”

“well, i still love them”, you say, turning to look at the ceiling too.

“action?”, he asks you, turning his face to look at you.

“no, too loud”, you say, looking at him again.

“animated?”

“ugh, no”

he laughs and shakes his head and you continue.

“what about… a comedy?”

he pretends to think for a moment, “... maybe”

“yes!”, you say, throwing your hands into the air, “i will go and choose one”, you say and then you swing your legs over the side of the bed, already walking towards the desk where his laptop is. 

it takes seungmin one second to realise what you’re doing, but it’s already too late, there’s nothing he can do to stop you.

“y/n, wait-”, he says as he stands up too, his entire body shaking, every ounce of blood draining from his face. 

you reach his desk and look at him smiling before you turn to look at the laptop, “oh shush and just let me choose one, trust me i will-”

you stop talking the moment you open his laptop and see the screen, his hand half outstretched between you and the laptop but stopping there, already too late. the screen shows the livestream page, the thumbnail from earlier frozen there - baby blue lace and a woman cropped at the neck, the unmistakable layout of a cam site surrounding the image.

seungmin hopes that he can somehow rewind the last five seconds if he reaches far enough but he can’t, you’ve already seen it. your smile slowly fades as your eyes stay fixed on the screen before you turn towards him.

“seungmin?”

he can’t answer, his mouth opens but nothing comes out. you look back at the laptop then at him again.

“what…”, you say, your voice much quieter now, “w-what is this?”

his heart plummets.

“no-”, he says as he shakes his head, “no, it’s not-”

he doesn’t even know what he’s trying to deny, you haven’t accused him of anything or looked disgusted or even stepped away from him. you’re just… confused.

“i can explain”, he says, his voice cracking “i-i know how this looks, but it’s not-”, he shakes his head again, dragging his hands through his hair so hard it almost hurts, “it’s not what you think”

you remain silent, looking at him, waiting for him to explain.

“i’m not…”, he swallows, “i’m not obsessed with porn or camgirls”, the words sound ridiculous the moment they leave his mouth, “i mean- i don’t- i don’t usually watch things like this, i’ve never done this before”, he says as his face burns and his breathing grows quicker.

he continues as his thoughts tumble over each other faster than he can sort them.

“i just…”, he gestures helplessly towards his laptop, “i was trying to… learn”

you blink, “learn?”

“yes”, he says, “i know that sounds stupid but i just… i don’t know anything”

his words come out so quietly he almost misses them himself, but it’s not something you didn’t know before, you had had your suspicions for a while.

“i’ve never dated anyone or kissed anyone before, let alone know anything about relationships and, well… sex”, he gestures vaguely towards the laptop again, “i don’t know how any of… that works”

he laughs then, a short and miserable laugh before he continues.

“so i read some articles and wrote some things down”

“what, like notes?”, you ask him.

“i colour coded them, yeah”, he says, shaking his head, “but i know that normal people probably don’t write and colour code relationship or sex advice”

you stand there still, looking at him, watching him spiralling too quickly.

“so i decided to… watch some streams because i thought that maybe i’d understand some things. i thought that maybe…”, another helpless laugh, “i don’t know, it could be a kind of research or something”

he winces at his own words, he knows how bad it sounds, and he’s sure you must think he’s crazy. 

“i wasn’t trying to be creepy, i wasn’t trying to- i just-”, his words begin tripping over each other completely, “i wanted to know how to be enough. i wanted to know what people liked. how to make someone feel good. how to make someone- because- i- i just-”

he laughs again, sounding close to tears this time.

“because what if one day… what if one day you…”, the sentence catches in his throat because he knows he shouldn’t say it, he’s already embarrassed enough, but the panic has completely stolen whatever filter he normally has, “because what if one day you said you loved me too?”

he closes his eyes, not wanting to look at you, not wanting to see your reaction in case this is the moment you decide to walk away from him.

“i’ve loved you for years, y/n, ever since we first met to be honest, and i just… i kept thinking that… what if the impossible happened and you loved me too?”, he says, his voice cracking, “and then…”, his breathing stutters, “i kept thinking that you’d realise that i don’t know anything, i don’t know how to kiss someone or how to date, i don’t know…”, he gestures weakly towards the laptop again, “any of that, and then you’d think that i wasn’t good enough, that i’d disappoint you and then you’d leave me”

he says, his throat tightening as another broken laugh escapes him.

“i was trying to learn. i wanted…”, he says as his eyes remain glued to the floor now, “i wanted to be someone worthy of you, someone that could make you feel good in case you wanted me to”

the words barely leave his lips as he remains there, completely frozen and unable to look at you.

“i know how insane this all sounds, i know. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, y/n. i’ll delete everything, i’ll never open that web again, i promise. i didn’t mean for you to-”

“seungmin”, you say, but he doesn’t hear you.

“i’m sorry i just-”

“seungmin”

“i swear i wasn’t-”

“kim seungmin”

you cross the distance between you and his words die the moment your fingers grab his hoodie, so firm that they stop him from spiralling more. you tug enough to make him lift his head, to make him look at you and for the first time since you opened the laptop, slowly and reluctantly, your eyes finally meet. 

he looks at you and sees something he has never seen before. you aren’t angry or embarrassed or even feeling sorry for him. if anything, you look completely in control, there’s a confidence in your posture that he doesn’t recognise. 

something has completely shifted the balance between you, and seungmin’s heartbeat somehow manages to speed up even more. he feels rooted to the floor and then one of your hands rises until your fingertips brush lightly against his cheek, your eyes never leaving his.

“let me see if i’ve understood this correctly”, you say as he watches you, unable to look anywhere else, “you’re in love with me, have been for years”, you say and he manages to nod his head, “and because you’ve never dated anyone…”, you tilt your head thoughtfully, “you convinced yourself you had to learn everything before you could ever have a chance with me”, his lips part but he doesn’t say anything so you continue, “so you started… researching… and ended up watching videos of a girl fucking herself so you could learn things that could make me feel good so you wouldn’t disappoint me if we ever got together… is that it?”

his voice fails completely and all he can do is nod his head again. he stands there looking at you and wondering when exactly you became so effortlessly confident, when you started looking at him like this. you smirk and lean closer then, so close that he can feel your breath near his ear and when you speak again, your voice is barely above a whisper.

“well, it’s a good thing that you picked my videos to learn from”

seungmin swears that everything stops right there and then, his brain refusing to process what you just said.

“my videos”

no, he must have misheard you, surely.

“you’ve got to be kidding me”, that’s what he wants to say but his mouth won’t cooperate with him.

you pull back just enough to see his face and a quiet laugh escapes you, “what? you don’t believe me?”

he still can’t answer, nothing makes sense.

“i suppose i can’t blame you”, you say as you shake your head with an almost fond smile.

without breaking eye contact, your hands move to the zip at the back of your dress and then you open it and let it fall on the floor. seungmin’s eyes widen when he sees it - the baby blue bra. his gaze snaps towards the laptop, to the thumbnail, and then back to you. it’s the same one, he’s completely sure of it. his breathing stops but before he can say anything, both of your hands come up to him again, one cupping his cheek and the other settling at the side of his neck, your thumb resting just beneath his jaw.

“and i think that you’ll also be very glad to know that i’m in love with you too”

before he has a chance to say anything, you lean forward and your lips meet his, the kiss lasting only a heartbeat before surprise catches up with him and then instinct takes over. his eyes flutter close and every anxious thought that’s been racing through his mind for weeks dissolves all at once.

his mouth parts under the pressure of your lips and you slide your tongue past his. his hands hover uselessly at his sides for a second before he puts them on your waist, his fingers twitching like he’s afraid he’ll do something wrong. you don’t give him time to overthink, you lick into his mouth again and he follows you without thinking, his tongue meeting yours. 

you break the kiss only to catch his lower lip between your teeth, tugging before letting go. his eyes are glassy when they open and you smile at him, your hands sliding down to the hem of his hoodie.

“arms up”, you say.

he obeys you instantly and you take his hoodie off, leaving his chest bare, his skin flushed all the way down to his collarbones. you run your palms over his ribs, feeling the way his breath stutters and then you lean to kiss the centre of his chest, making him let out a quiet and broken sound. 

“so… you learnt a lot from my videos, you say?”, you ask against his skin.

seungmin nods his head, completely under your spell now.

“good”, you whisper, “then let’s put it to use”

you kiss him again, harder this time and then you walk him backwards until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. you push lightly on his chest and he sits, then lies down when you follow him onto the mattress. you settle on your back in the middle of the sheets, wearing nothing but the baby blue bra and the matching panties that you hadn’t worn on the stream before. the fabric already clings to you, the crotch visibly darker where you’ve soaked through and seungmin’s gaze drops straight to that wet patch and stays there, his lips parted and his cock visibly twitching inside his grey sweatpants. 

you spread your thighs a little wider, inviting him.

“do whatever you want with me, seungmin”, you say, “whatever you saw me do on camera. whatever you’ve been thinking about all this time”

he swallows hard and then crawls over you on shaky arms. his mouth finds yours again, messy and eager, his hips already rolling down against your thigh in unconscious thrusts. you let him grind against you for a moment, feeling how hard he is, but then you guide his head with a gentle hand on the back of his neck.

seungmin kisses down your throat, across your collarbones, until he reaches the swell of your breasts. his fingers fumble with the bra before he finally opens it and then takes it off of you. he stares at you, his breathing ragged as his eyes stay on your nipples. he leans in and closes his mouth around one, sucking gently and shyly at first, then harder when you sigh and arch into him. his tongue flicks over it and you move your fingers to his hair, holding him there against you.

“that’s it”, you say, the praise warm in your voice, “suck a little harder- yes, just like that”

he moans around your nipple and then moves to the other breast, licking and sucking until both of your nipples are shiny and swollen, as he is completely lost in the taste of you. he moves lower, kissing a trail down your stomach and pressing his lips just above the waistband of your panties. the wet patch has grown and he stares at it before he lowers his head and kisses right over the soaked lace. the heat of his mouth makes you gasp and he does it again, open-mouthed this time, sucking the fabric and the slick underneath.

your hips jerk up and he groans, pressing his face harder against you, licking broad stripes over the lace until it’s completely drenched. 

“fuck, minnie”, you say, your fingers tightening in his hair, “that feels so good. keep going”

he sucks harder then, his tongue pressing the fabric into your folds, and you can feel every desperate noise he makes, every single move of his body against the bed. your thighs tremble around his head and he keep licking and sucking until the lace is dripping. he looks at you and when you nod your head, he hooks his fingers into the waistband and drags the panties down your legs with your help and the moment they’re off, he dives back in, his mouth sealing over your bare cunt now.

“f-fuck… seungmin”

his tongue is hot and eager, licking from your entrance up to your clit before circling there. you moan loud and unrestrained, your hips rolling against his face as he sucks your clit between his lips.

“such a good boy for me- yes, just like that. fuck… your mouth feels amazing”, you say.

seungmin whines against you, your words making him go crazy. he licks lower, pushing his tongue inside you, fucking you with it before returning to your clit, making you scream louder than before. one of his hands slides up your thigh and you feel two fingers press against your entrance. he hesitates at first but then he slides them inside you, stretching you open while his mouth keeps working your clit.

“don’t stop”, you gasp, your back arching off the bed, “i’m gonna come- seungmin, i’m gonna come on your tongue”

he moans desperately and sucks harder, his fingers curling until you finally shatter, your thighs shaking around his head as you ride his mouth through your orgasm. he doesn’t pull away, he licks you through it until you finally go limp, panting.

when you open your eyes, you look at him and find him still between your legs, his face shiny with your juices. but there’s something uneasy in his expression and you reach down and stroke his cheek.

“hey… what’s wrong?”, you ask him softly.

he looks at you shyly, then looks away, his cheeks burning. he moves a bit then and glances down at his own lap. you follow his gaze and you see the front of his grey sweatpants completely dark and soaked, a large wet patch spreading across the fabric. he came untouched, just from eating you out. you feel yourself clench again at the sight, fresh arousal dripping down your thigh. 

“that’s so fucking hot”, you tell him, your voice completely honest and sincere, “you came just from making me come? oh god, seungmin… come here”, you say as you reach for him.

he obeys you instantly, crawling up your body until his face is level with yours. you pull him into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue, and he moans into your mouth. your hands slide down his back, feeling the way he trembles under your touch, and you kiss him again, slower this time, letting him feel how much you want him. 

your tongues slide together, wet and hungry, both of you breathing hard. you can feel him already getting hard again against your thigh, the sticky mess in his clothes pressing against your skin. you moan into the kiss and he answers with a shaky whimper, completely lost in you.

your hand slips down between your bodies, sliding straight under the waistband of his sweatpants and into his boxers. the moment your fingers wrap around his cock, still sticky from his earlier orgasm, seungmin whines into your mouth, the sound high and needy. his hips jerk forward instinctively, pushing his cock into your palm as if he can’t help himself. you stroke him slowly at first, feeling how he gets hard again, the precum already beading at the tip one more time.

“y/n…”, he moans against your mouth.

“shh, it’s okay”, you murmur, “you’re such a good student, minnie. but i need to see what else you learnt from watching me”

you pump his cock with a firm rhythm, your thumb circling the sensitive tip on every stroke. his breath stutters and his forehead presses against yours as his hips roll into your hand chasing the friction.

you tug at his sweatpants with your free hand, “help me”

he scrambles to obey, lifting his hips so you can shove both his sweatpants and his boxers down his thighs. he kicks them off the rest of the way, leaving him completely naked now. the moment he’s free, he crawls over you again, settling between your spread legs and his cock, flushed and leaking, brushed against your inner thigh. he looks at you with wide and bright eyes, completely under your control, letting you do whatever you want with him.

you reach down and wrap your fingers around his cock again, guiding the tip to your entrance. 

“you ready?”, you ask him, your eyes locked on his.

seungmin just nods, desperate for you, and then he crashes his mouth back onto yours as you line him up. he pushes forward slowly, a bit unsure but so desperate and needy for you that he doesn’t care. a broken moan escapes him and he trembles above you, his arms shaking as he sinks deeper slowly. 

“you feel so good already, minnie. that’s it, take your time. you’re doing so well, my good boy”

he bottoms out with a shaky gasp, buried to the hilt inside you. his forehead drops to your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath, as he tries to stop himself from coming again already. you clench around him and he whimpers, his hips twitching. 

“y-y/n”, he says, his voice trembling.

“come on”, you whisper, nipping at his ear, “show me how much you learnt”

seungmin starts with slow and careful thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. each drag of his cock against your walls makes you moan and you encourage him with kisses and bites on his skin.

“harder. yes, just like that”, you say.

his pace gradually picks up, his hips snapping forward with growing confidence.

“f-fuck… you’re so tight”, he says, his voice breaking, “you feel so good”

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, “don’t stop. fuck me harder seungmin, i wanna feel you”

he starts moving faster, the bed creaking beneath you. your hands roam his back, your nails dragging down his spine as he fucks you with increasing urgency. both of you are loud now, your cries mixing with his broken moans and desperate grunts. when he’s right on the edge, his hand slides between your bodies until his fingers find your clit and he rubs it the way he watched you do on the livestreams.

your orgasm crashes through you without warning then, making you cry out his name as your walls pulse around his cock. the tight squeeze pushes seungmin over too and you come together, both of you screaming and groaning as you break at the same time.

you both tremble together as you come down from your climaxes, breathing hard. he lies on top of you and you turn your head just enough to kiss him slowly, and when you pull back, a teasing smile curves your mouth.

“so… you couldn’t stop watching my videos, huh?”

his face burns and he tries to hide against your neck, but you just laugh softly and stroke his hair.

“congratulations on ruining my life”, he mumbles against your skin.

you laugh louder this time and move his head just enough to kiss him again.

“you’ve ruined me too, you know”, you say, before you lean in and peck his lips again, “but the good thing is that there’s still so much more i can teach you”, you say, pressing a kiss to his temple this time, “and i’m happy to, whenever you want”

he lifts his head, his eyes soft and shining, and he smiles before leaning in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, the perfect ending to his…

research.

a/n: our sweet puppy’s part is up!! again thank you all soooo much for all your love and support, i’m so happy you all love this series as much as i do 🩷 i hope you’re ready for what’s next: our sunshine brownie boy 😏

the library

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated 🌟

dividers by my darling @lariesographic 🩷

Not that anything has to happen. Honestly, you’re just excited to spend some alone time with your crush. It’s fun to humble men in the bedroom, whether you’re tying them to the bedpost or tying the score in a virtual world.  

You adjust the strap of your laptop bag with an excited smile and lift your hand. 

Knock knock~  

Will he like your gaming outfit? You went with blue because you're like 89% sure there’s a blue team, and that’s his favorite color.  

Or was it black? Or should you have worn red to entice his…interest? Not that you’re expecting anything sexual to happen, but it's not like you're about to discourage it either. 

Before you can finish your own thoughts, he answers the door.

"Took you long enough," you tease, hip popped as you stand in the doorway, your blue mini dress hugging your curves. "Ready to lose?"

Oh. Wait a second. Damn. Jisung looks like he's already lost. 

Exhausted eyes all red and swollen, like he’s been up all night without a wink of sleep. His complexion is pale, as if he’s barely stepped outside in days, and his usually soft pink lips are clearly chapped from not drinking enough water. 

And yet, it is beyond obvious he's expecting you not to notice any of this. What with his worn attempt at a smile and quick response, "Ready to be humbled?"

Instead of answering his question (because let's be honest, you hardly heard it), your brow furrows with concern, lips parting gently. 

“Are you okay?” you ask softly. 

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?” 

“You look like hell.” 

“Didn't sleep well,” he shrugs. 

“Since when, last year?” 

“I'm fine, promise.” As if putting the word promise at the end of his lie will make it more convincing. “Come on in. You can set up next to me at the desk.” 

You step inside, slipping your laptop bag off your shoulder as Jisung closes the door behind you.

At first glance, everything appears normal for a guy's dorm room. 

Messy bed. Stickered gaming equipment. Textbooks stacked in uneven piles at random places. A familiar hoodie is draped over the back of his chair. That must be one of his favorites because you recall him wearing it pretty regularly, especially on days he's stressed. 

Then your eyes land on the mini fridge in the corner.

Metal spoons. A whole stack of them, just sitting on top. 

You're not stupid. You've used the cold spoon trick before too, plenty of times. 

It's a temporary fix. A band-aid of sorts. Judging by the collection sitting on top of Jisung's mini fridge, someone has been reapplying that band-aid a lot lately.

Your gaze drifts back to his face. To the faint redness around his eyes. To the exhaustion. To the way the skin beneath them still looks slightly puffy despite whatever efforts he's made to hide it.

Because that's the thing about the cold spoon trick. It works…until it doesn't.

You can only constrict swollen blood vessels so many times. You can only reduce so much inflammation. Eventually, the crying starts to win, the evidence lingers, and no amount of cold metal can disguise the fact that your heart is breaking. 

“Alright.” Jisung rubs his hands together dramatically. "Let's do this. Just so we're clear, I'm not going easy on you."

"I'd be offended if you did." 

You drop into the chair beside him and pull your laptop from your bag while he leans over to help you get everything installed.

His mood seems a little lighter now, thankfully. Not fixed, but definitely distracted at least. This isn't what you want overall, but it's probably the best you can expect right now.

"Okay," he says, scooting closer. "Make an account."

"Done."

"Now log in."

"Done."

"Now prepare yourself for one of the worst mistakes of your life."

You roll your eyes and giggle, “No, silly, that's what you're supposed to do next.” 

A reluctant smile finally wins its battle against his exhaustion. It's small and uneven and brief. Gone almost as quickly as it appears. Nothing remarkable that anyone else would probably notice or care. And yet you find yourself openly staring at it anyway. 

Jisung leans in closer to look at your screen, one hand settling on the back of your chair while the other skillfully drags across your mousepad. Before you realize what's happened, he's completely invaded your personal space. 

Not that you're complaining. The closeness feels effortless and natural as he drifts closer without even thinking about it.

Somewhere along the way, Jisung stopped treating your personal space like it's your personal space. Now he just seems to orbit you whenever you're together, pulled into you by some invisible force he's never once acknowledged out loud, but also has never once fought. 

And the more time you spend around him, the more you start to suspect it means something. Not to be dramatic, of course, he's not secretly in love with you yet. 

But he is surprisingly tactile for someone so introverted, always wanting to be touching in some way. 

Not with everyone! If anything, he's usually quite reserved in the physical touch department. 

But with people he trusts? People he likes? 

It's different.

He'll lean into them without thinking. Sit close enough that his shoulders touch theirs. Let his knee bump against theirs under a table while acting like he has no idea. Absentmindedly reach out just to make sure they're still there while he's talking. 

Physical closeness isn't just physical closeness to him. It's a love language. It's reassurance. It's connection. 

And maybe that's why you've started noticing it more lately. Because the longer you stick around, the closer he gets. Like, he always seems to end up beside you regardless of the room or activity. 

He's started gravitating toward your space instead of away from it, even when it would seemingly be easier to stand alone. And he never appears bothered by your proximity. If anything, he seems calmer when you're close. 

More relaxed. More comfortable. 

Which would explain why he's currently half-folded into your personal space while explaining League of Legends. One look into his eyes is enough to tell you this isn't really about the game. He's clearly hurting. Clearly lonely. So, you're not surprised he's getting a little closer than usual. 

Not that he's being suave or subtle about it, either. Heartbreak has a habit of settling on a person's face before they’re willing to admit it's there, unable to completely hide it no matter what they do. 

But despite wanting to hide the exhaustion, his gaze keeps finding yours.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Every time you look over, he's already looking at you, hand still on the back of your chair, body angled toward yours as if some part of him has already quietly decided you're exactly where he wants to be.

Not flirting. At least, not intentionally, from what you can tell. 

Just...looking at you. 

Like he's trying to remember something. Or maybe trying to forget something. 

His eyes drift over your face while you talk. They linger on your expression, your smile, the way your eyebrows dance when you're being dramatic. Every now and then, they dip briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes.

It's not the look of someone falling in love. At least, you don't think it is. You wouldn't be mad if it was, but there's too much sadness in him right now for that.

No, this is something quieter. 

And maybe that's what’s throwing you so much. Because usually, Jisung is painfully easy to read. He wears his emotions on his sleeve at all times; he can't help it. 

But today, there's too much. Too many emotions competing for space inside him, all crowding his mind and heart – even he can't figure out which feeling is winning.

When he finally tears his gaze away from you to look back at your laptop screen, you miss it.

"So, what's the main objective?” you ask once he's got you in and set up. “I used that word right, right?”

He shoots you a fond look and mods. “Yeah. Destroy the enemy Nexus."

"The what?"

"The giant crystal thing,” he explains. “You'll know it when you see it.” 

"Oh. So, I just like…hit it? Easy.” 

He glances at you while reaching across your keyboard to adjust a setting. "Uh, not exactly.” 

"But basically.” 

“Not basically either. There's a lot more that goes into it.” He points at your screen. "Okay, so there are three lanes: top, mid, and bot. Minions spawn every thirty seconds and automatically path down each lane, so you're gonna want to kill them first. Hitting minions last gives you gold, which you use to buy items. The goal is to build enough gold and XP to hit your power spikes before the enemy team does." 

“Yep. Easy peasy. None of that seems complicated at all.” 

"There’s also jungle camps between the lanes. Junglers clear camps for gold and XP, then gank lanes to create advantages. Also objectives spawn throughout the game, like, Void Grubs, Rift Herald, Dragons, Baron. If you can secure objectives, it gives your team map control, buffs, or siege pressure.” 

“Definitely haven't lost me yet.” 

"Now, waves need to be managed properly and carefully. Sometimes you slow push, sometimes you freeze, sometimes you hard shove depending on lane state or matchup or objective timers. Just know vision is super important, so place wards. Also, remember not to face-check bushes. And don't forget to track your enemy's cooldowns, level spikes, always watch the minimap so you can rotate when necessary. Oh! And whatever you do, don't overextend without vision.”

He finally pauses. 

“Got it?" 

"Sungie?” 

"Yeah?"

"You're really hot when you speak nerd. But I understood exactly three of those words."

He facepalms and sighs into his hand. 

"You're talking really fast!” you whine with a pout on your lips, successfully spawning a smile on his own. “Slow down for me?” 

"I thought you said you were going to beat my ass at this game?” 

“And I will!” you insist, defensively adjusting in your seat. “Right now I'm losing against the tutorial, not you.” 

And then something you weren't expecting, but it lifts your heart and makes your skin tingle with happy goosebumps. 

He laughs. 

Not the exhausted smile he gave you at the door. Or the fake polite chuckle he’s been hiding behind since you arrived. 

A real laugh. Small but definitely there. The sound sends an embarrassing amount of happiness rushing through your chest. 

"Okay, how can I simplify this?” he mutters with a sigh, scooting his chair right up next to yours. “Hit things. Get money. Buy stuff. Don't die."

"Oh!” Your eyes light up with a playful hit on his shoulder. “Why didn't you just say that? I'm great at buying stuff and not dying. I've been doing it my whole life.” 

The look he gives you suggests he's already accepted that you're about to ignore every piece of advice he offers. But strangely, he couldn't care less. 

"So who do I pick?" you ask, scrolling through the list of characters. 

"A champion."

"Which one is the hottest?” 

Jisung sighs (again) and pinches the bridge of his nose, his glasses sitting on his hand for a moment. “That’s not really how you're supposed to choose–” 

“Oh my god!” you gasp. “This one.” 

“That's Jinx. She's an ADC.” 

“She's a clinically insane badass.” 

“I should warn you,” Jisung says unsure, “she's a bit difficult.” 

"I can fix her.” 

"No,” he chuckles breathlessly. “I mean, she might make you lose since you don't know how to use her.” 

"Well, I think you know she's secretly the best character in the game and you're trying to keep all the overpowered champions for yourself.” 

You lock in the champion with a smug click and casually sweep your hair behind your shoulder.

“Cute attempt, Sungie. But your sabotage was a little too obvious.”

“The match hasn't even started.” 

“And yet my instincts remain flawless.”

Two seconds later, you're loading into your first match, confidence skyrocketing and not backing down. 

Jisung watches your screen with the kind of focus usually reserved for brain surgery and bomb defusal. Occasionally pointing and frantically directing you on where to go and what to fight. 

At first, it's funny.

Then it becomes mildly concerning.

And then, somehow, it becomes contagious. 

Every time you glance over, he's leaning forward in his chair a little bit more, eyes tracking your every move, silently evaluating decisions you don’t even realize you’re making. The sheer seriousness with which he approaches this game is ridiculous…and it starts rubbing off on you.

Suddenly, button-mashing for fun doesn't seem like an option anymore. Not when Jisung is watching your performance and reviewing it like a panel of experts.

Before you know it, you're sitting up straighter, concentrating harder, and genuinely trying your best to destroy your enemy’s alien nexium jewel hub thingy. 

Which is honestly ridiculous when you think about it. Because you came here to spend time with your crush, not your laptop. 

And yet somehow, against all odds, Han Jisung has tricked you into caring about League of Legends. 

Oh my god…are you becoming a nerd…!? 

You watch your screen a little closer, trying to focus, but Jisung’s shoulder brushing against yours is hella distracting. 

Your fingers flinch on the keyboard, missing the buttons entirely, your reaction time spiraling. Suddenly, your character takes three steps and walks straight into a tower. 

Ah! Panic! Press random buttons. Run directly toward an enemy. Die instantly.

Silence. 

You slowly sit back, the game over screen flashing mockingly in your face. 

Jisung has covered his mouth with both hands. But he's not surprised. He's trying not to smile. 

"Did you just…?” 

"Don't start,” you warn him, turning in your seat. 

"You walked into the tower."

"I saw what happened, chill.” 

"You literally walked straight into it. I mean, just right into it.” 

"I know.” 

“Didn’t even look where you were going.” 

“Are you done?” 

“Just blindly walked directly–” 

“I get it! Geez!” 

He loses the battle with himself and starts laughing out loud, shoulders bouncing.

You narrow your eyes and snarl at him, but you're pretty sure your pupils are the shapes of hearts right now.

"Enjoy it while you can, Sungie."

"Oh?"

You point dramatically at your screen and then immediately start another match. "I'm about to become a threat, baby.” 

For Jisung, the funniest part is that you're actually terrible at this.

Not hopeless.

Not incapable.

Just genuinely awful. 

You don't instinctively check the minimap. You forget which buttons do what every five minutes. Half your decision making process seems based off vibes and blind confidence alone.

And yet you're trying. Really hard. Much harder than anyone would expect you to. 

Not because you care about ranked matches or champion builds or objective control, because you clearly don't. 

But because you care about him. 

The realization settles deep in his chest, somewhat painful and somehow lovely at the same time. 

League isn't your thing. If he asked you to choose between a gaming session and almost anything else, he'd bet dirty money on you choosing the other thing every time.

But you're here anyway. You downloaded the game. You listened to his explanations. You showed up carrying a laptop and enough enthusiasm to fool even Faker. 

Just to spend time with him. Just to understand something he loves. Just to encourage him. 

It's such a simple thing, really, partaking in someone else's hobby. But somehow it feels bigger than any grand gesture he could think of. 

Because in a world where so much of his life has felt like people wanting things from him – his time, his attention, his effort, his patience, his tolerance, his sacrifice – it never ends. 

You, on the other hand, keep showing up. And all you want is to know him. His favorite boba tea? His school frustrations? What makes him shy? What makes him excited? What makes him tick? Did he sleep well? Did he eat enough? Did he study? Is he being treated fairly? 

He doesn't think you'll ever fully understand how much that means. And god help him…he's not sure he'll ever deserve it.

Deserve you. 

“Ughh!” you groan in frustration, slamming the buttons instead of pressing them like a sane person. “These fucking minions are everywhere! Do they ever quit!?” 

Normally, Jisung would have answered immediately. Probably with an overcomplicated explanation involving wave management or something that only sounds charming when he says it.

But his silence stretches on, long after you expect him to be ranting about how terribly you're handling this objective right now. 

With your fingers still on the keyboard, you glance over, ready to scold him for not telling you which minion swarm to attack first.

But what you see makes you do a double-take. And freeze.

Jisung is staring at the screen, but he's completely motionless, eyes glassy and unfocused.

A tear slips down his cheek.

Then another.

Your stomach drops, the useless game forgotten instantly. 

Softly, you say his name, "Jisung?” And then a little more firmly when he doesn't budge. “Jisung.” 

He blinks himself back into awareness, as if he didn't even realize he was crying while zoning out into nothing. 

You turn fully toward him when he sniffles a few times. "Hey, what's wrong?” 

No response. No reaction. Not even an attempt to wipe his tears away. They just keep falling, tracing down his cheeks already flushed from raw, bone-deep exhaustion. 

Your laptop gets abandoned without a second thought. 

"Hey, hey,” you sooth while reaching for his face, gently cupping his cheeks. “Look at me. Why are you crying?” 

His skin is warm. Too warm to be simply an overheated dorm room. Your thumbs sweep beneath his eyes, collecting his tears although it's pointless. Each time, another one falls immediately. Then another. 

“Jisung, talk to me, please. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” 

He shakes his head, the movement tiny, almost imperceptible, eyes lowering. 

"...tired."

The answer nearly breaks your heart. Because he's not lying; you can hear it in his voice. He is tired. But tired of what, you can only speculate. 

Of course, you have your suspicions, and they're probably accurate. But to be honest, that's not entirely important right now. 

What's important is what you do in this moment. How you treat him, and what he needs. 

You study him for a moment. Then ask quietly, "Do you trust me?"

His eyes lift to yours, red-rimmed and vulnerable. It hurts like hell to see him like this, because his eyes are usually your favorite things about him.

Big, light brown, and impossibly expressive. Deep enough to get lost in for hours. The kind of eyes that crinkle when he laughs and sparkle when he gets too excited about something. The kind of eyes that make him look soft even when he's trying to be sarcastic.

Boba pearl eyes. Round and sweet and comforting and soft. 

But these aren't the eyes you're used to falling into. Something hellish has hollowed them out, and yet, they aren't empty. No, that would almost be easier.

They're full. Full of sleepless nights and too many tears and all the thoughts he hasn't said out loud.

For perhaps the first time since you've met him, those beautiful eyes aren't insisting he's okay. They're asking you for help.

After a long moment, he nods.

You stand, placing a hand on his shoulder to make him sit back in his chair. 

He looks confused but doesn't resist, doesn't even attempt to ask what you're doing. His whole body submits to your guidance with unwavering trust. 

Without a word, you settle yourself across his lap, straddling his waist and resting each of your knees on either side of him. 

Reaching up, you gently remove his glasses and place them on the desk behind you. Then you slide both arms around his neck and fall forward onto him, holding him close to yourself. 

For a second he just sits there. Frozen. Limp. Unsure of what to do. 

Then something breaks. His arms start to lift, his hands following the curve of your legs until they scoop under your thighs and pull you further onto his lap, flush against him so his arms can lock around your waist. 

Hard. 

The sound that leaves his throat is small, more like a strangled inhale before he starts crying.

Really crying.

His face disappears into your shoulder at first, his entire body trembling as you squeeze him tighter. 

You can feel the dampness of his tears soaking into your shirt. Feel the way he keeps pulling you closer, afraid you might disappear or leave. Feel the way his face buries into your neck now, nose sniffling, hands gripping your clothes. 

"It's okay," you murmur, holding him together the best way you know how. “I’m right here. It's okay.” 

Again and again and again. Until eventually the crying slows, softens, and fades. Until all that's left are the occasional, manageable shaky breaths and swallows.

When he loosens his grip for a moment, you pull back just enough to look at him.

"Will you listen to me?"

He nods immediately, no hesitation whatsoever. 

“Do exactly as I say?” 

He nods again, hands mindlessly wandering your waist and fidgeting with the hem of your dress at your thighs, the softness of the material and the lines of your body providing a strange sense of comfort and gentleness. 

"Good." You stand up, his touch dragging off your body. "Stay there. I'll be right back."

He watches you leave, obediently staring at the door for what feels like hours, not moving an inch without you present. 

A few minutes later you return carrying several cold bottles of water from the vending machine downstairs. 

You stock most of them into his mini fridge before placing the last one directly into his hands.

"Drink."

He twists off the cap and obeys without question, throat bobbing with each gulp. Halfway through the bottle, he lowers it and looks up at you for confirmation. 

“All of it, please.” 

Then he finishes the rest without so much as a blink. 

You pull out a stick of chapstick from your bag next and hand it to him. 

"Good job,” you praise him with a stroke of his head, sparking a sense of accomplishment and pride in him he didn't realize was possible.

Fuck, he has to do whatever it takes to hear you praise him like that again.

“Put this on.” 

He gives you a look but doesn't argue, popping the lid off and gently applying it to his chapped lips. 

You decide to leave it out on his desk for later, secretly planning on “forgetting” it so he’ll be more likely to use it in the future as well. 

“Stand up.” 

When he does, you grab the hoodie hanging on the back of his chair. The oversized one that's been washed so many times it's simultaneously the softest thing you've ever touched and falling apart at the seams. 

“This is your favorite hoodie?” 

He nods. 

"The one that helps when you're anxious?” 

You half expect him to lie, because it's not exactly something he's openly admitted to you, and has even been known to avoid in conversation. 

But to your surprise, he immediately responds, “That's right.” As if the fact that you know about his anxiety doesn't phase him at all. Why wouldn't you know? Even with all his attempts to hide that side of himself, of course, you saw through his facades and masks. Of course, you saw the real him.  

“Take off your shirt,” you tell him, not making any implication to move or look away. 

For the first time, he doesn't immediately obey, whether because he's shy or surprised or perhaps both.

But you can see there's a bigger part of him that actually really wants to do what you say. It wants to obey, to follow your directions, to submit. A part of him that wants you to be happy and proud of how well he listens to you.

So, he may hesitate for a moment, but then he slowly pulls his shirt off, dropping it on the ground with a deep inhale that fills his chest.

You hold your breath for a moment, caught up in the quiet intimacy of the scene and the way he sways on his feet, subtly but unconsciously moving in closer to you. 

Gently, you take a step closer, lift the hoodie, and guide it over his head. As it slips past his messy hair, his face comes back into view, close enough that you can see some faint stubble on his chin, a faint pink on his ears, and the way his eyelids flutter with something that could easily be mistaken for falling in lo--

...it's probably not though. He's in pain. That's all.

While you're at it, you reach up to fix the drawstrings, gently tugging them straight and dragging your palms down his chest to lay them flat. Then softly push his bangs back from his forehead and smooth out his eyebrows.

Then, with your prompting, he carefully slips his arms into the sleeves. You grasp the fabric and pull it down over his torso as it settles around him, the back of your hands lightly brushing his bare skin. You adjust the material on his shoulders too, making sure it sits just right – not too loose, not too tight – so it feels like a warm, familiar hug.

All the while, he soaks in each of your touches, silently praying to whatever diety might be listening that you won't stop. Watching you like you hung the stars in the sky just for him, that you’re his guardian angel come to Earth, his only reason why. 

Perhaps the only thing that would make this better is if you could climb into his hoodie with him and dissolve into his skin.

You move over to his bed, crawl onto the comforter, and sit against the wall. 

"Come here,” you say, patting the empty space beside you.

Jisung waits, only for a second – to catch his breath at the sight of you on his bed – then crawls onto the mattress and sits next to you, close enough to shamelessly lean his leg against your leg. 

You grab his pillow and place it across your lap. All it takes is one little pat for understanding to immediately dawn on his face. 

Slowly, he lowers himself down. His head dips softly onto your lap, and you run your fingers gently through his hair, feeling him finally surrender a little of the pain he's been harboring. 

His eyes are already drooping less than a minute later. 

"Go to sleep, Sungie. Get some rest.” 

He gives you a sleepy blink, body fighting itself to stay awake. 

“Is this really okay?" His question comes out so quietly it barely exists. You wonder if he really means it, or if he's just asking for your reassurance.

"It's up to you.” Your fingers continue combing through his hair. "If you'd rather I leave, I'll leave."

"No,” he responds immediately, almost desperately. "Stay. Please. I don't want you to go."

You smile softly, because how are you supposed to not smile with Han Jisung laying on your lap, gazing up at you with the prettiest, most vulnerable, tired eyes you've ever had the fortune of seeing? 

"I'll stay as long as you want.” 

“In that case…” He rolls toward you, nuzzling his face into your stomach until you're not sure he can properly breathe like that.

The movement is so instinctual, so trusting, so natural, it stirs up every protective, maternal instinct in you into overdrive.

Within a matter of minutes, his breathing evens out, signaling that he’s fallen fast asleep.

::

Your fingers continue to move carefully through his hair, gentle yet possessive in a way you have no right to admit aloud just yet. It may be a bit premature, but in your heart, you allow the feeling to become one with your veins:

You're desperately in love with Han Jisung. And whoever hurt your Sungie is going to wish they'd never been fucking born.

Best friend!Jisung Who you first met in freshmen orientation in high school, moving from a different part of the city, new school, new area — you pitied him, that's not why you befriended him, you befriended him because he was so shy it was cute — and you saw his phone background and it so happened to be your favourite anime.

Best friend!Jisung Who when you approached him was awkward as hell — you found it adorable, taking an immediate liking to the anxious boy, greeting him with a smile, reminding him that you're all new here and hes only an outsider if he makes himself one.

Best friend!Jisung Who you essentially grew up with, going through all the weird, awkward high school phases, when you both found different groups you always stayed close, nothing ever pulling you apart.

Best friend!Jisung Who everyone was shocked when they found out was your best friend, not because you're popular per say, just very outgoing while he was the opposite, both of you bringing the best out of each other.

Best friend!Jisung Who watched from afar as you make new friends, go on dates — not that he was possessive, no he just didn't want to lose you. You knew him better though, the subtle mood shift he blamed to school. Eventually he reluctantly, with red ears told you he didn't want to lose you — which was ridiculous in your mind, not because his feelings were, but because nobody could ever come close to him in your heart — but he didn't need to know that yet.

Best friend!Jisung who graduated with you — immediately telling you when he got valedictorian, who instantly ran to you as he got off stage, hugging you back tightly when you effectively jumped into his arms.

Best friend!Jisung Who made sure you applied to the same colleges as he did, and when you told him that you wouldnt be accepted into the best ones like he would, he scoffed like you offended him.

Best friend!Jisung Who never told you that the top school accepted him, because he was already set on going to the same school as you.

Best friend!Jisung Who made sure to help you move into your freshmen dorm, even if he wast the strongest, he made sure you barely lifted a finger, even helping you decorate your half of the dorm.

Best friend!Jisung Who lived off campus, rooming with Chan and Minho, a high school friend and a guy he met randomly in a class, much to your envy. Being stuck with an awful dorm mate who kept bringing boys back at odd hours.

Best friend!Jisung Who gave you a spare key to his place as soon as he moved in, even making room in his closet for your stuff, as if you even wear it when your over — stealing his clothes as soon as you step into the apartment.

Best friend!Jisung Who everyone thought was your boyfriend, even your other friends had their suspicions but you both heavily insisted it wasn't romantic.

Best friend!Jisung Who was hot, undeniably. Growing into his broad shoulders, learning how to dress, style his hair with little effort, his personality sweet and kind — willingly to apologise to a plant if he bumped into it.

Best friend!Jisung Who was absolutely clueless to the women who wanted him, because in his mind the only woman he ever wanted was you, even if it wasn't romantic on your part.

Best friend!Jisung Who when paired with a girl for an assignment was absolutely clueless when she was blatantly flirting with him, assuming it was friendly, even inviting her to a group hang out when she asked him to hang out, outside the project

Best friend!Jisung Who was again clueless when you started ignoring him after he brought her into his apartment for movie night, pouting in your direction, ignoring jabs from Minho about looking like a lost puppy dog.

Best friend!Jisung Who when everyone else leaves immediately folds, begging you to say whats wrong, he genuinely feels like his hearts going to burst from you being mad at him.

Best friend!Jisung Who you cant stay mad at — but also cant contain how you feel, all the years of hiding your feelings for him, every wall shattering at his pathetic state.

Best friend!Jisung Who was floored when you pull him by the collar, your lips crashing into his, only taking a few seconds to kiss back, his lips attacking yours in desperation, trying to express every feeling, every almost confession in one kiss.

Best friend!Jisung Who whined when you pulled back, desperate for air, only giving you a moment before crashing his lips back on yours, his tongue prodding your lips before entering your mouth, moaning into yours.

Best friend!Jisung Whose hands never left you, tangling in your hair — holding onto your hips, the boy cant stay still, needing to hold all of you, and when he finally pulls back its with the biggest grin ever.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who nobody was shocked when you told them you started dating — hell even your parents weren't surprised, simply going, finally.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who somehow treated you better when dating, not as if he didn't treat you amazingly when friends, but now he can do so without worrying about crossing a line.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who absolutely was obsessed with you — his love language being touch was apparent, his hands always on you, whether it was his hand linked with yours, his head on your shoulder, or if you arent in the mood for pda, his finger linked through your belt loop or linking his pinky with yours.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who learnt to tell when girls were interested in him, though they quickly backed off considering how often he talks about you, every other conversation he has, he mentions you.

Boyfriend!Jisung Whose nerdy side only makes him even more adorable, insisting on couple costumes and cosplays, calling you his player two ironically of course.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who was the most perfect and caring boyfriend, in and out of the bedroom.

NSFW AHEAD

Boyfriend!Jisung Who if you thought was obsessed with you outside of sex — was insatiable with you. Constantly begging for you — whether its for you to touch him or for him to touch you.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who genuinely would rather spend hours between your legs than head, a munch through and through, he loves the feeling of you cumming on his tongue, squirming around as he licks you through your orgasm and into another one.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who cant stay still as we know, so you're always in different positions — switching from him being between your legs, to you sitting on his face.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who loves using toys on you, his favourite is this pretty purple vibrator, whenever you're being a tease he puts it on the lowest setting, keeping your hands tied up and his hands on your hips so you cant buck up into it.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who only lets you cum again when you're begging for him, even then he teases you about it.

"What — you think i should let you? After how mean you were to me, thought you were all independent, angel?"

Boyfriend!Jisung Who despite his teasing will always let you cum, over and over again. Only removing himself from between your legs when you're begging for more.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who always cums untouched between your legs, the small patch of his cum staining the mattress making him shy away and whimper.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who turns to absolute putty when you take charge, mocking him endlessly.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who whimpers, even when in charge he whimpers, hes so desperate and pathetically in love with you, he just cant.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who cums again within seconds of you putting your hands on his half hard cock, his tip glistening from his previous orgasm, a shade of red that would be so pretty on your nails but that's for another time.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who when you take him into your mouth, bucks into it unintentionally, a string of apologies spewing out as his hands lace into your hair, holding your head in place as he apologies but his hips rut up into your mouth, taking all of him at once.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who manhandles you beneath him, panting and catching his breath, mumbling incoherently under his breath.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who is whimpering as he pushes into you, trying his best not to bust the second you clench around him.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who deadass starts thinking of some mathematical equations to not cum instantly, recounting the digits of pi as he bottoms out inside you.

Boyfriend!Jisung Whose thrusts are shallow and desperate, the feeling of your tight cunt taking him is too much, mixed with the sweet moans escaping from your throat.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who always makes sure you cum first, putting you first and needing the feeling of you cumming around his cock — the way your pussy flutters around him — hes addicted to it.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who kisses you through your orgasm, his thrusts growing mess and sloppy, moaning into your mouth, his orgasm coming right after yours.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who mumbles sweet praises into your mouth, as you ride out the waves of pleasure, slowly stopping to make sure you're okay, pulling out gently, kissing away all the tears you shed.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who rubbed soft circles onto your hip as he kisses over your body, not wanting to pull away from you.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who reluctantly pulls back, quickly grabbing you a snack and water and a cloth to clean you up. Making sure you drink the water as he cleans up the mess between your legs.

Boyfriend!Jisung Who puts on your comfort show, even if he has no idea what the plot is and you have to explain every character relationship and plot, enduring his constant, wait what happened?

Boyfriend!Jisung Who only falls asleep after you do, not wanting you to stay awake without him, needing to make sure you're okay, only after you're snoring away, kissing your temple before turning off the TV, keeping you close to him before drifting off to sleep holding you.

✉️ — @nanilis @hoonsocks @sweethoons @beomiracles @izzyy-stuff @yvampyr @kookiesnkim @owlieuwu @seungminsslut @hyukascampfire @yawngnab @hoonicon @rianzysworld @soobabbee @nainai112 @drkbl00d @lottiesls @xhoinicx @b4echo

Convince this man that his value as a human being isn't dependent on how useful he can be to someone else. That he deserves to be appreciated and respected. That his kindness shouldn't be mistaken for weakness or taken advantage of. That being chosen means absolutely nothing if the person choosing you doesn't treat you with care. 

And sure, it would be great if he developed a life ruining crush on you somewhere along the way. Two things can be true at once.  

Also, since you’re no longer bothering yourself with the obligation to respect his bitch of a girlfriend, you feel free to flirt as hard and as shamelessly as you deem fit. 

And boy, oh boy, has it been fun. 

Unfortunately for Jisung, your full time flirting is deeply flustering. Fortunately for you, the universe seems quite pleased with your plans to spoil him rotten and even fated the two of you to end up in the same class this semester! 

Environmental Consciousness was never going to be at the top of your list, but it's quickly become your favorite. Sitting next to an adorable, studious Jisung for an hour and a half twice a week has proven exceptionally beneficial to your well-being. And your mission. 

“What's this?" he asks, carefully lowering himself into his usual seat beside you.

Except this time, there's something unusual waiting on his desk.

You swivel toward him in your chair, unable to hide your grin as he examines the cup with the cautious curiosity of a puppy discovering a new toy.

"Just something I picked up on the way here," you say casually. "I saw it and thought of you."

"A boba tea?"

"Mhm."

He turns the cup in his hands, reading the label. "Milk tea reminds you of me?"

"Almost exclusively.” 

Jisung stabs his straw through the top and takes a tentative sip.

His eyes widen.

There it is.

That brief flash of delighted surprise he never quite manages to hide when something makes him happy.

Before he can stop himself, he takes another sip.

"It's strawberry taro!” 

"Of course it is,” you reply nonchalantly. “That's your favorite."

He pauses. Then slowly turns toward you, brows furrowed but eyes still sparkling and delicious like the boba in his drink. 

"How do you know that?"

"You told me, duh.” 

"I did?"

"Yeah.” 

"When?"

“Umm, about two – no, three weeks ago, maybe?” 

"No way, I would've remembered that." 

"Yeah, you were talking about how the boba place near your dorm keeps running out of taro, and you were bummed because you hadn't had any in a long time.” 

Jisung blinks, the memory slowly taking shape in his mind. "You remember that?"

"Why wouldn't I?” 

Because he just said it in passing, tucked somewhere between complaining about assignments and ranking fictional characters in terms of survivability during a zombie apocalypse. Because he wasn't expecting you to actually listen. Because people don't usually remember little things like favorite drinks or offhand comments, the tiny preferences that make up the shape of a person. Especially not when they belong to him. 

He looks at the cup again, turning it in his hand when he notices something strange about the label. 

“Wait a second, this isn't from that boba shop.” 

“Oh, you're right,” you reply as if also just noticing. “They were still out. So I went to the other one.” 

“You mean the one on the other side of campus?” 

“Yeah,” you say as if that should be expected. But then your expression changes. “Crap, did I get the wrong one? Their menu is different, so I just picked what looked like–” 

“No, it's perfect!” he quickly assures you. “I just…I don't usually go to that one because it's not worth the really long walk and really long lines.” 

"You're worth it, Sungie."

You say it so matter of factly. Like it's so obvious.

Like the sky is blue, and water is wet, and Han Jisung is worth going out of your way for just because.

Judging by the expression on his face, this information is completely new to him.

He opens his mouth, hesitates, then lets out a quiet laugh of disbelief instead, as though the idea of someone thinking he's worth the effort has short-circuited his ability to speak.

You tilt your head cutely, hair cascading effortlessly over your shoulder, immediately introducing Jisung to a brand new problem.

Your neck.

Has it always been that pretty? Or is he just imagining things?

"Earth to Jisung, you still here?"

Instead of answering, he gives a single nod and seals his useless lips around the straw.

You watch a few boba pearls race up the clear plastic and disappear into his mouth. He chews thoughtfully, eyes fixed very intensely on absolutely anything that isn't you to mask his fluttering heart.

Unfortunately for him, the growing pink tint across his cheeks is a considerable giveaway.

Unfortunately for you, watching him try and fail not to blush is ridiculously cute.

You rest your jaw in your hand, elbow propped on the desk as you watch him.

And watch him.

And watch him.

So much so that your previously retracted title of “stalker” may need to be revisited. 

Eventually, Jisung glances over. The moment his eyes meet yours, he freezes.

"What?” 

“Nothing.” Just a soft, enchanted, fond smile. "I like seeing you happy, that's all.” 

Jisung bashfully lowers his gaze again, taking another long sip of his drink, sucking as many boba pearls as he can into his cheeks before chewing. 

Then he swallows, hard. 

Slowly, his eyes lift back to you. The bewilderment on his face is straight comical. Like he just spent the last thirty seconds buffering before his brain finally loaded. 

And for a brief, gloriously adorable moment, you watch it unfold across his face in stages: confusion, recognition, disbelief.

"You called me Sungie."

"Oh." You blink innocently. "Is that not your name?"

He narrows his eyes at you, lips pressing into a flat line to show he's not impressed with your antics. (Jokes on him – his dimples show when he does that.)  

"You know that's not what I mean."

“No, I'm pretty sure that's your name.” 

“No, I'm pretty sure you're just flirting with me again,” he says, voice softening. 

You lean in slightly, chin still in your hand as you give him a playful smirk. “You say that as if you don’t enjoy being flirted with.”

“I don't.” he responds, mirroring your body by resting his chin in his hand as well, leaning in just a bit closer.

“Liar.” 

“I really don't.” 

“Oh wow, that was almost convincing,” you say pretending to be impressed. “But your cute little smile kinda gave it away. Wanna try again?” 

He presses his lips together and clears his throat in an attempt to regain composure.

"I don't like your flirting," he insists, voice steadier but still soft as butter. 

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” you sing-song. 

“What are you, a third grader?” 

“No,” you shrug, “but the kid who beat you in League last week was.” 

Jisung's smile immediately falters. He stammers, trying to come up with a comeback, but before he can, you reach out and poke his nose. His eyes cross to follow your finger, and you pull it back with a playful hiss.  

"Ooh, you might need some aloe for that burn, babe," you giggle with a teasing smile. 

“Hey, some of those kids are ruthless!” he defends, pushing his glasses up his nose – which only makes you want to boop it again.  

"Oh, come on,” you roll your eyes. "He was, like, ten."

"Thirteen!” 

"Whatever,” you sit back, arms crossed in a mock show of superiority. “How hard can League be if you're losing to middle schoolers?”

“You wanna go?” Jisung suddenly asks, voice full of that competitive energy you’d expect from a professional athlete. 

“You're not serious.” 

He leans in that much closer, offering a handshake that looks more like he’s about to set up for an arm-wrestling match. 

“I've never been more serious about anything in my entire life.” 

You eye his hand cautiously. He’s not usually like this, but you’re not mad. Competitive Jisung? Kinda super hot. 

“Alright, nerd.” You shake his hand with an equally confident smirk. “You're on.” 

“Have you ever even played League before?” he asks. 

“Pfft,” you scoff, shaking your head. “No. But that doesn't matter. I'm still gonna wipe the floor with you.” 

“Dream on,” he quips. "But we'll have to schedule your humiliating defeat for tomorrow or Thursday.” 

“Why can't I beat your ass today?"

“I've got a date with Minji.” 

Your hand slaps over your mouth and you jerk forward. “Sorry, gag reflex.” 

Oh, shit. That was too much, wasn’t it? 

Aw fuck, come on! Things were going so well! The banter was bantering. You swear you saw a romantic sparkle in his eye at the idea of playing League together. And now you’re going to have to traverse Jisung defending his stupid girlfriend again.

You brace yourself for the usual, sickening “don’t talk about her that way” speech. 

But instead, he starts laughing. 

Not the polite chuckles or amused huffs you've grown accustomed to. But a genuine, unrestrained laugh that bubbles up from deep within his gut, spilling out without any attempt to hold it back. 

Then suddenly he's laughing so hard he can't seem to breathe.

His giggles climb higher and higher until the sound disappears altogether. He doubles over in his seat, one hand clutching his stomach while tiny tears gather at the corners of his eyes.

He doesn't have anything beside him to smack, so he settles for shoving your shoulder instead, nearly knocking himself out of his chair in the process. 

When Jisung laughs, he laughs with his whole body. Every inch of him is involved. His shoulders shake. His head drops forward. His arms flail uselessly in a poor attempt to regain control of himself.

You love it. You're in love with it. 

Because right now he's completely authentic. Completely uncensored. So unequivocally Jisung. 

At first, you thought you'd seen this before.

Back at the diner, he laughed then too. Enough that you went home thinking you'd caught a glimpse of the real Han Jisung hiding beneath all the awkwardness and nervous smiles.

Apparently, you were wrong.

Because that laugh? That was just the trailer. A sneak peek. This is what happens when he completely forgets to be self-conscious.

No overthinking. No second-guessing. No carefully measured responses.

Just pure, unfiltered joy.

God, if he wanted you to fall in love with him any faster, all he had to do was ask.

Honestly, your slapstick gag wasn't even that funny. A little funny, sure maybe. Definitely worthy of a chuckle or maybe even a snort.

But this? This feels like someone who just really needed to laugh. 

You wonder if he ever laughs like this around Minji. 

Probably not. For some reason, you can't imagine her appreciating this version of him. The loud version. The messy version. The one laughing so hard he’s probably forgotten what he's laughing about. 

Her fucking loss. He's beautiful. 

After a few moments of gasping for air and wiping tears from under his eyes only to crack up again at the sight of himself, Jisung manages to calm down enough to form words. 

“Sorry…” he says, breathless. “That was…I mean, you’re ridiculous sometimes.”

With a hum of agreement, you fold your arms on the desk and rest your cheek on them, peering up at him with a soft smile. “...so cute.” 

Jisung watches you for a moment before almost absentmindedly folding his own arms on the desk too, resting his cheek against them so he can be eye-level with you. 

"I haven't laughed like that in forever,” he admits with a cough. “Don't tell Minji I laughed at her.” 

“Take a drink, giggles.” 

Because he’s a good boy and mostly listens to you, he sits up enough to take a sip of his milk tea. Then he lays back down onto the desk, seemingly more than content to just be near you in the quiet, happy mess of this moment. 

Jisung’s expression softens into a gentle, warm smile. His eyes linger on you for a moment longer, filled with a tenderness that was once shy, but has grown more confident. Which can only mean one thing… 

He's changing. 

The flirty attention that used to make him flustered, nervous, and insecure has instead become what makes him feel safe and valued and attractive. It’s like you’re watching him shed layers of self-doubt, revealing a version of himself that’s more assured, more at ease, more willing to laugh. 

And it's all happening because he’s beginning to see himself the way you see him – worthy, valuable, and undeniably special. Not because someone else determined he is. But because he intrinsically is. 

Of course, that means you’ll have to up your antics and your flirting, pushing just a little beyond what's the typical comfort zone for “friends”, but if it’s helping him believe in himself more, it’s worth every playful challenge. 

The corners of his lips curl upward naturally, and you feel a little flutter of happiness settle deep inside your bones. For a brief moment, looking into each others eyes like this, everything feels right. 

"...thanks," he mumbles.

"For what?"

"The boba,” he takes a breath, “and for making me laugh.” 

Something warm spreads throughout your chest seeing him accept the kind of treatment he should have been receiving from his partner all along. 

"Of course.” 

"You remember a lot of things about me, huh?” 

"Why shouldn't I?" you reply bravely. "It's the bare minimum when you're falling in love with someone.” 

“Yeah, I guess….wait, what–!?” 

“Shh,” you cut him off, sitting up and pointing to the front of the class, “the professor is starting.” 

You look ahead, but you don't miss that Jisung can't seem to keep his eyes from drifting to you the entire class period. 

Eventually, you glance sideways. Only to catch him immediately jerking his gaze back to the front every time. 

Oh, yeah. Subtle as a gun. 

:: 

There’s something about you that draws Jisung in. Something he can’t quite explain, even though he’s spent countless hours lost in his own head trying to figure you out.

The layers around you are seemingly endless. One moment, you're cute. The next, you're flirting. And then, suddenly, you're walking three miles just to bring him his favorite boba tea because it reminds you of him.

Who does that!? Crazy people, that's who. 

You're crazy. In a really attractive way. 

Even more, Jisung feels crazy when he's with you – crazy at ease, crazy shy, crazy confident, crazy himself. 

When he's with you, he feels like he’s worth more than he probably is. Somehow, you’ve planted this idea in his head that he’s supposed to be praised just for existing. When in reality, that’s not true. There’s the bare minimum, and then there’s whatever kind of treatment you give him. 

“Princess treatment.” That's what you called it once. He's your “princess.” 

He prefers Sungie. But he’d also be lying if he said he doesn’t find your other term of endearment just as flattering (maybe even more so). 

Spending time with you feels effortless, even with his heart hammering in his chest the whole time. Definitely more than he should admit, especially since he's spent more time with you than anyone else these past few months. 

Including…in the library when he was supposed to be on a study date with his girlfriend. 

God, that scene hasn't left his mind since. He was…fuck, he was so lost in that moment. No wonder he hasn't been able to find his way back to himself yet. 

All he can remember clearly are your words swimming inside his head and the shape of your lips when you got close to him… 

And when you held his hand? Oh my god, it was like a current of electricity bringing his whole body alive. His skin burned where your fingers intertwined, and he felt jolts of lightning surge through his veins, like every nerve ending was overloaded at once – holy shit, no wonder so many guys chase you. 

Every heartbeat was amplified, in perfect time with yours. And for a moment, all he could focus on was that connection. On how your hand fit so perfectly in his, as if it was made for him. 

And when you looked into his eyes, his whole world stopped. Every word you said was genuine and selfless. He's never had someone feel so strongly about how he's being treated, how he's living. 

Unsure of how to react to your passion, Jisung finds himself replaying your words in his mind at every moment. 

“How am I supposed to respect someone who treats you like that?”

"You say you're lucky. But I think you've got it backwards…she's the one who's lucky to have you.” 

“Get ready to have your ass properly flirted with, nerd. I'm gonna show you how you should be treated." 

Not only did you leave a lasting impression in the library, but you’ve continued to leave impressions every time he sees you. The boba tea, the cute nicknames, going on errands together, remembering his schedule, making him laugh, sending him random texts just to “check in.”  

There has to be a limit, right? Like, some point where you draw the line, when you realize enough is enough. Eventually, you’ll get tired of doing all these things for someone who isn’t offering any benefits in return. And then, perhaps, you’ll slowly back away or just cut him off entirely.  

That’s usually what people do in situations like this, isn’t it? But Jisung gets the feeling that you’re different somehow. That’s not the kind of person you are.  

But what is he kidding? Someone like you wanting someone like him? It’s a joke, a tease, a bit, a laugh. 

Unless…it’s not. And maybe, just maybe, you’re actually falling for someone like him. Which, again, circles him right back to CRAZY.  

The war continues on in his head as he walks. 

He looks down at Minji’s hand tucked in his, slender fingers intertwined and swinging gently in the air. She's wearing a chunky ring on every other finger, so they don't slot with his perfectly. And her hand is overly relaxed, so much so that if he let go, she would probably slip right out of his grasp.

All of this makes him feel very small. Tiny. Like he’s just a shadow in what’s supposed to be a shared moment. He can’t say he feels nothing, because he does feel gratitude and a small hint of affection. 

But it’s not lightning strikes. 

He follows the line of her arm up to her face, where she’s currently glued to her phone, talking animatedly to one of her friends about some guy they hooked up with and wanting “every steamy detail.” 

He watches her smile at her screen, gasp at juicy reveals, and ask more questions than he's gotten in what feels like forever. Never thought it was possible, but turns out he can be a third wheel on his own date. Or, at least, what he had intended to be a date. 

He’d planned to take Minji to the mall because she loves the mall and never once has refused the opportunity. But she said she’d gone yesterday with her friends and didn’t want to go again today. 

So, he suggested a casual walk through the park, just some quiet time to enjoy the weather and each other's company. 

That plan lasted all of three minutes before her phone rang, and suddenly, he was shoved into second place. 

Now, he's here, staring absentmindedly at her hand loosely hung on his hand and the surrounding couples in the park, none of which are on their phones. 

“Jisung?” 

Her voice breaks him out of his daze, his attention immediately locking back in on her. 

“Huh? Yeah?” 

She raises an eyebrow, holding her phone a little ways away for a moment. “What’s wrong?”  

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. 

“You dropped my hand.” 

“Oh,” he answers, lips parting in surprise when he looks down and, sure enough, notices their hands fallen away from each other. “Sorry, umm, it's getting a little sweaty. I didn't want to ruin your rings.” 

A lie. Jisung just lied. To his girlfriend. He's not a liar! And yet, he can't bring himself to be honest: that she makes him feel like an annoyance, a bother, an inconvenience. The conflict, although probably needed, seems futile to him. 

Minji sighs, annoyed, and turns back to her phone. “I'll call you back in a few.” 

“You didn't have to hang up,” he says quietly. 

“Yeah, I did,” she insists with another deep sigh – each one pressing a bruise into his chest. “Now, tell me what's wrong.” 

“But you really wanted to have that call.” 

“You're right, I did. But I hung up for you,” she says sassily, grabbing his hand again. “You're obviously upset. So, talk to me.” 

Why is he hesitating? She passed up her phone call to talk to him. He should feel prioritized and valuable. But actually, this feels far worse. Because now he's a nuisance, an irritation she’d rather ignore but can't. A problem she's obligated to deal with instead of a person she gets the chance to love. 

“Seriously? You're not going to share?” Minji asks in (what Jisung suspects was intended to be) a cute voice. “Come on, I cut my phone call short for you, and you're not even gonna tell me?” 

“Well…” Jisung finally speaks, guilt ridden to tell her something. “You know how I'm taking a coding class this semester?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I have this project that spans the whole class, and then I submit it as my final grade.” 

“Mhm.” 

“I have to write the code for my own app using my own original idea.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“And I'm not sure what to do. I mean, I really like the class so far, and I want to get a good grade, so maybe I shouldn’t aim too high? But there's so many things I could do. Like, should I make the app for fun, or educational, or medical care, or business? I guess, I actually do have a lot of cool ideas now that I say it out loud. I just don't know which one to…” 

He glances over and sees Minji has pulled out her phone again, texting.  

“...choose,” he finishes softly. 

A brief silence settles between them as her thumb swipes over her phone screen, holding down for a second before sending whatever she found to multiple group chats.  

Once she notices Jisung has stopped talking, she turns her head back toward him. “Yeah? I'm listening.” 

He hesitates for a moment before asking, “What do you think I should make?”  

“I don’t know. That’s a tough one,” she hums thoughtfully. “You should make whatever you want. It’s your game, after all.”  

“So, you think I should make the app a game?”  

“Uh, sure! Yeah, that's what I meant,” she shrugs, eyes already gone back to her phone and whatever saucy reply she just got from the chat. “Umm, what level of the league thingy or whatever is this for again?” 

Is it bad he doesn't want to dwell on it any longer? Honestly, Jisung doesn’t really feel like talking at all right now, let alone thinking about deadlines and projects. 

So, instead, he does something that always works when he wants to avoid sharing or engaging – a way to deflect that has yet to fail him. 

“It's not important. How’s the guy your friend’s seeing?”  

And that’s all it takes.  

“Oh my god, he’s a piece of work,” Minji immediately replies, voice filled with character and emotion Jisung was never going to get any other way. “I swear, this is the craziest shit she’s pulled in a minute. I told her not to let him buy her drinks. I told her! And now, she’s got this guy on the hook for her, which is hilarious because he’s so not her type. But she's already bagged him like three times! I’m dying laughing at her, like, she’s actually insane for this—”  

She keeps talking, but Jisung tunes her out pretty easily once she gets going. Her rant will probably last for another fifteen minutes or so, the cycle repeating as he asks another question about Minji, her friend, or some guy, and she launches into another story.  

It's not that Jisung tries to avoid talking about himself, but it's hard to talk about himself when his partner smiles more at her friend’s spicy text messages than she ever has at him. He doesn't want to see her bored or annoyed. And she looks happiest when talking about herself and her friends. 

So, what starts as a walk in the park quickly turns into a one-sided monologue about her friend's sex life, making Jisung feel more invisible than ever. 

But she’s happy – that’s all that matters. So, the date is a success.  

Right?  

Yeah. As long as she's happy. No matter how much he sacrifices or how much he holds back, his greatest wish is for her to find joy, peace, and contentment in their relationship. That's what a boyfriend is supposed to provide. Even if it means putting his own feelings aside every time. 

Carrying that quiet sense of obligation when he's with Minji is just part of the deal. It's what he signed up for. He feels compelled to give her the better parts of himself – his kindness, his attentiveness, his gentle patience – because that’s what a boyfriend should do. Even when those efforts go unnoticed or unappreciated, it’s still his duty to treat her well, regardless of how she responds. 

Deep down, Jisung knows that love isn’t about keeping score or expecting gratitude, but…sometimes the fact that he’s constantly giving more than he’s receiving is hard to brush under the rug. 

But he has to push those feelings aside. His responsibility is to be better – more caring, more patient, more loving. Because that’s what it means to truly care for someone. 

Even if she doesn't care about— 

She does care about me…right? 

:: 

When they reach his dorm, Jisung hesitates in front of the door, his mind still racing. He gently swings her hand now that it's not holding her phone, a silent gesture filled with all his unspoken thoughts. 

Maybe he shouldn't be waiting so long to take the initiative based on the way Minji checks the time and sighs. But for the first time since they started dating, he's pausing, carefully weighing his feelings before asking… 

“Do you want to come in for a bit?”

A question Minji has heard at the end of every date he's taken her on, though he's usually more enthusiastic than this. 

Perhaps it's because, for the first time since they started dating, he's not expecting much from her. 

It’s not like she’s given any indication that she’s going to say yes or that she even wants to. Minji doesn’t crave Jisung the way he craves her, and he’s come to accept that. (Although it hurts more than he cares to admit.) 

He’s exhausted himself trying to understand her, trying to piece together what she wants or what she’s really thinking. Every effort feels like banging his head against a wall. Maybe this is just who she is – indifferent, detached, always a step ahead, always leaving him to wonder if he’s enough. 

Minji smiles softly and slides her arms around his shoulders, leaning in close so he can feel her breasts against his body. 

“I guess we haven’t cuddled or made out in a while, huh?” she hums softly, her pitying eyes drifting to his lips. 

He nods silently, feeling his cheeks warm when she moves in a little closer to brush their noses. 

“Does my baby need some attention?”  

He nods again, leaning into her a little more, instinctively chasing that closeness. 

For someone who openly lives for intimacy and knows that physical touch is one of his love languages, it’s rare for Minji to offer this kind of attention without a catch. 

So, when moments like this happen, Jisung can’t help but feel a little bit of excitement. Despite being an inexperienced nerd, he’s still a guy – one who yearns to make his partner feel all kinds of things. Fantasies, fairytales, desires hiding in the deepest, darkest corners of his mind. 

And he knows Minji would be down if she would take two minutes to listen. If he could only figure out why she always stops halfway. 

The theories about why she hasn’t slept with him after almost six months of dating haven’t changed since the last time he spiraled. He’s gone over every possibility, every excuse, every reason so many times he has a semi-permanent headache. 

Maybe it's his room? Maybe it's too messy? Maybe it's too cold? Maybe it's cursed? 

Maybe it's his bed? Maybe it's too firm? Maybe it's too small? Maybe it doesn't smell right? 

Minji can be rather particular. 

Maybe it's him? Maybe he's too quiet? Maybe he's too thin? Maybe he's too dorky? Maybe he's not good enough? 

As they step inside and his dorm door swings shut behind them, it becomes painfully obvious that this isn’t about his room or his bed. 

Before he can even process what’s happening, she’s on him. Minji’s hands bunch the fabric of his shirt, guiding him backward with a confident, relentless energy, shoving him onto the bed with a force that leaves no room for hesitation. 

He stumbles, his body hitting the mattress with a grunt as she falls on top of him.  

Her kiss is nothing short of masterful. Lips confident and commanding, capable of turning even the most stoic of men into beggars. Her touch is precise, her presence overwhelming, and her skills unmatched. There's no question as to how she's able to command men the way that she does. 

It's hopeless. Jisung feels himself get drawn in within seconds, the weight of her body settled over his waist, the press of her hands on his chest as they drag down to the hem of his shirt, slipping underneath without permission. 

Jisung has never considered himself to have the most tempting body, but he often wishes that Minji would be inexplicably and irresistibly drawn to him. And in this fleeting instant, he allows himself to believe that she actually is.

With her hips not-so-gently rocking against him and her nails dragging down his chest, Jisung feels his world start to melt away and fall out of his mind. His eyes roll back into his head, and all the sensation on his skin amplifies at the feeling of her lips on his neck. 

This. This is what he's been craving. 

Although it may be embarrassing to admit out loud, in his heart, Jisung knows he's a hopeless romantic. He wants nothing more than to share any and every kind of intimacy with his person. To feel them in and around every part of him – emotionally and physically – and to make them feel just as encompassed by him. 

How often Jisung's pictured his first time is borderline delusional. Always with a girlfriend who’s kind, experienced, and able to guide him all the way through. The kind of girlfriend that could snap her fingers and have anyone she wants, but she chooses him anyway. The kind who's gentle but dangerous, sensual but eager, rough but caring. 

The longer Jisung lays underneath Minji’s touch, eyes shut and body heated, he can't keep convincing himself that it'll be like that with her. 

Minji’s not the type to guide. She's not the type to slow down or appreciate every inch of him. And she's not the type to care if he does any of that crap for her. 

Then comes a dangerous thought. His hands are on her waist, his hips matching her rhythm, but behind his eyelids, another face appears.

Not hers. 

“Fuck—” he mutters, his voice cracking. 

He tries to curse the image away, but you remain, like a stain in his mind he can't erase. 

Each time her lips brush against his skin, he feels you.  

Every time her hips grind against him, he feels you.  

Every time her hands glide across his abdomen and beneath his waistline, he feels you.  

You. You. You.  

Fuck! You're all he can think about. 

Minji lifts her head just enough to meet his gaze, a teasing yet proud smile curling on her swollen lips.

“You sound pretty,” she says softly, then shifts to sit upright on his lap, letting her weight settle right where he needs her most, yet offering no relief. “I'm going to go freshen up, okay? Don’t move.”

Damn, the agony of her dragging herself away is like peeling a sticker off paint. Jisung stays reaching for her, not wanting or even caring if she freshens up. They're already in it, why leave now? 

Then again, maybe it's a good thing he takes a moment to clear his head. Or at least, clear his mind of anyone else. 

Where did the thought of you even come from!? Of all the times to think about you, now is perhaps the most inconvenient and inappropriate. He can't have sex with Minji while thinking about you! And yet, no matter how hard he tries, every time he closes his eyes, he doesn't see his girlfriend…he sees you. 

Beautiful, caring, sexy, funny, charming, crazy you. 

Is he insane!? He's about to finally, finally have sex with the girl he's been bending over backwards to date. And his mind and heart aren't even in it! Sure, his dick is getting happy, but the rest of him feels…out of place. 

It’s as if her lips and hands are moving with familiarity, but not the warmth or urgency he believes is supposed to be present when you're about to make love to someone. 

When she touches him, he doesn't feel like she's touching deep inside his bones. He doesn't feel like she's reaching into his soul, let alone past the first layer of skin. Everything she does and says and kisses is on the surface. Nothing deeper. 

As if she doesn't even really…want him at all.  

The sudden sound of a phone vibrating against his side startles him to sit up. When he reaches over, he finds Minji’s phone lost in the comforter. It must have fallen out of her pocket when she climbed on top of him. 

He doesn't mean to, honest, he doesn't. Jisung isn't the type to snoop, and he's definitely not the type to invade someone else's conversation. But he gets a glimpse of the screen when it turns on automatically, and the texts just keep coming in. 

[Jae] hey

[Jae] u busy? 

[Jae] got 25 min before my class 

[Jae] usual spot? 

[Jae] come on baby i miss u 

[Jae] dont tell me ur with that nerd again 

[Jae] ditch him already

[Jae] need u so bad baby 

[Jae] my hands just not the same 

[Jae] need ur mouth 

[Jae] fuck baby answer me

[Jae] im dying over here 

[Jae] dont make me beg 

[Jae] …again 

Can he even admit it? That a part of him figured as much. 

Without opening the texts, Jisung tucks the phone back into his blankets where he found it. Laying still as if nothing had happened. 

No. He can't bring himself to say it out loud. Minji isn’t about to, so maybe some foolish part of his heart doesn’t want to accept it either. If she never comes clean, then maybe he can keep pretending it’s not happening too, keep pretending everything’s fine?

Minutes pass in silence.  

Then, Minji steps out of the bathroom, hair tousled and face shimmering. She climbs back on top of him, her body pressing soft and warm against his. Without so much as a word or smile, her lips find his again, slow and deliberate, trying to ignite that familiar spark.  

But he can't feel anything now. Not even you. 

“Minji?” Jisung mutters against her lips, not waiting for a natural pause or for her to pull away. 

“Yes, baby?” 

“While you were in the bathroom…umm, something--"

A deep rumble of vibration suddenly echoes from somewhere inside his blankets, making them both freeze in surprise. Minji’s fingers fumble instinctively through the comforter as she searches for it. When she finally finds the phone and looks at the screen, her eyes widen, and she gasps softly, her breath catching in her throat.

“Oh no!” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks with a hard swallow. 

“My sister was in an accident. My mom needs me to call her,” she says hurriedly, placing a hand on his chest and trailing her finger along his septum. “I’m so sorry, baby, can we take a rain check?” 

This isn’t a breakup. So why does it feel like he’s about to let her walk out of his heart instead of his dorm room? 

“Of course. Go call your mom. Text me so I know you're okay?” 

“Mhm!” She quickly kisses his cheek and says she’ll text him later. But as he watches her skip away, he can’t shake the feeling that she’s much too giddy for someone who just got bad news.

He sits up in his bed in silence. Alone. 

So. This is what it feels like to be played. Cheated on. Used. Discarded. 

It's a lot more fragile than he anticipated.  

His heart feels heavy, but deep down, he probably always kind of knew the truth. He’s just background noise in her life, someone she keeps around for when she’s bored or lonely.

In the subconscious parts of his mind and heart, he prepared for this. But he’d prepared himself for something far worse than this quiet, lingering, persistent ache.  

Isn’t heartbreak supposed to cause a storm? To shatter his every reality and tear him apart at every seam?  

But no. His heart is breaking so slowly. Softly. Slipping through tiny cracks in ways he never anticipated, letting water seep in little by little. Just enough to cause panic, but not enough to drown him.  

He stares at the door she left through, feeling hollow, betrayed, and barraged with questions. 

How long has he been just a pawn in her game? How long has he been nothing more than someone she uses when it suits her? How long has he been blindly devoted while she ran around treating his loyalty like shit? Was any of it ever real? Was she ever into him at all?

He closes his eyes, trying to breathe, trying to process. But all he can feel is a gnawing emptiness inside his chest getting bigger, bigger. And he doesn't know how to stop it. 

There's no pretending or denying any longer. He’s just another player in her sick game. And no matter how much of himself he gives, he’ll never be more than that to her. 

He'll never be enough.

::

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