SITRI

"It's a summoning book, dumbass. Specifically for... pleasure demons. Incubi. You know, the kind that are basically designed to fuck you stupid and leave you satisfied." She wiggled her eyebrows. "All you have to do is follow the ritual on that page. Light a few candles, say the words, offer a little blood, and boom—hot demon in your dorm room ready to service you."

You stared at her. Then back at the book. The page she pointed to showed a tall, beautiful male figure with dark wings and glowing eyes, kneeling between a woman's spread legs. The text beneath it was written in elegant black ink that almost seemed to shimmer under the dorm light.

"...You're serious?" you asked slowly.

"Dead serious." Yeri's grin widened. "Come on. It's our senior year. You've been studying so hard you forgot what fun is. Worst case scenario, nothing happens. Best case scenario..." She made a very vulgar hand gesture. "You finally get dicked down, though not by you know, natural way."

You bit your lip, still hesitant... but the idea was already settling under your skin. The grimoire rested heavy in your hands. And for the first time, the thought of doing something reckless felt a little too tempting.

"Well, you don't have to do it if you don't like it, you know," She said, leaning back on her hands. Her tone softened a little. "I just gave you an option. We could still find some other ways. Maybe set you up an online dating profile or something."

You stared down. The book felt heavier now. The strange symbols almost seemed to pulse under the dim light, and the illustration of the incubus kept drawing your eyes back to it—tall, beautiful, powerful, and very clearly designed for one purpose.

The thought alone of doing online dating made you want to groan. Awkward conversations. Bad photos. Guys who only wanted one thing and still managed to be disappointing about it. You'd already tried that route last semester and ended up more frustrated than when you started. You closed the book slowly, fingers lingering on the worn leather cover.

"...What if it actually works?" you asked quietly.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Then you get the best graduation present ever," she said, scooting closer. "Look, you didn't have to do it if you are very unconscious with it. But from everything I've read, these things are bound by the ritual. They can't hurt you unless you ask them to. They exist to please whoever summons them."

You chewed on your bottom lip, heart beating a little faster. The rational part of your brain was still screaming that this was a terrible, dangerous idea. But you are far more desperate than you thought you have been. You are much determined to graduate this college life with experiences you haven't done all your life, and that includes having sex.

"...Fine. I'll try it."

"Great! Let me know how it went, okay? I need the whole story!" she said, already bouncing toward the door. "I'll text you later. And don't chicken out!"

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving you alone in the quiet dorm room with the grimoire resting heavily on your lap.

The dorm room felt different once you started. Warm, dim light spilled from the small desk lamp you had left on, casting long soft shadows across the walls. Outside, the campus was quiet, it's 2:14 am. Inside, the only sounds were your own breathing and the soft cascade of chalk as you dragged it carefully across the floor.

Circle after circle. Lines intersecting. Symbols you didn't fully understand but copied as exactly as you could from the grimoire. The chalk made a dry, whispering sound against the floor, filling the silence until the summoning circle was complete.

You sat back on your heels for a moment, staring at your work. Then came the candles. One by one, you placed four black candles at the points of the circle and lit them.

You knelt inside the completed circle and reached for the first black candle.

"In nomine Ignis voco te..." You lit the first candle. The flame flared to life.

"In nomine Aeris voco te..." The second candle caught, its flame steady and bright.

"In nomine Aquae voco te..." The third candle burned.

"In nomine Terrae voco te..." The fourth candle joined the others, filling the room with warm, flickering light.

Your hands were slightly shaky when you reached for the needle. You pricked the tip of your finger, wincing at the small sharp sting. A bead of blood welled up quickly. You held your hand over the center of the circle and let the drop fall. It landed with a soft, almost inaudible sound, dark red against the pale salt. Then you began to chant.

"Et in nomine Spiriti, Prodi ad me, o noctis creatura; voluntati meae obsequere et in conspectu meo te manifesta."

A drop of blood fell into the center of the circle. You repeated the line, another drop.

"Et in nomine Spiriti, Prodi ad me, o noctis creatura; voluntati meae obsequere et in conspectu meo te manifesta."

Your voice started quiet, almost unsure, but grew steadier with each line of the summoning prayer. The foreign words felt strange on your tongue, heavy and ancient. As you spoke them the third time, the candle flames suddenly stretched higher, burning brighter, casting restless shadows across the walls. The temperature in the room shifted, a chill that raised goosebumps on your arms.

The moment the final drop of blood touched the circle, the entire room seemed to inhale. The candle flames stretched high toward the ceiling before suddenly dropping low, almost snuffing out completely, leaving only a dim, trembling glow. A deep, heavy pressure filled the air, thick and electric, pressing against your skin and making your ears ring, it even pushes you back out of the circle. The chalk lines of the summoning circle began to glow faintly, pulsing once, then twice, as if something on the other side was testing the barrier.

Then the darkness inside the circle thickened and twisted. Shadows pulled together like living smoke, coiling and rising until two tall figures slowly took shape at the same time. Broad shoulders, long legs, and large black wings briefly flared open before folding neatly against their backs. Both men were beautiful in a way that felt dangerous, and both looked hauntingly familiar.

The one on the left had soft yet sharp round and expressive eyes that glowed a deep gold, framed by slightly wavy dark hair that fell messily around his face. His features were expressive and almost boyish at first glance, but the slow, mischievous smirk that spread across his lips—complete with the pair of dimples—made him look anything but innocent. He carried an air of playful hunger, like he was already entertained by the situation.

The one on the right was sharper in every way. His eyes glowed a burning crimson, narrow and cat-like, set in an elegant, finely sculpted face. His dark hair was neat yet slightly tousled, and his expression was calm, intense, and quietly predatory. Everything about him felt precise and controlled, from the way he held himself to the way his gaze dragged slowly over your body without a single wasted movement.

"Well... this is unexpected," the golden-eyed incubus said, his voice low and smooth with a teasing lilt as he tilted his head, still smirking. "So long since the last time I have been summoned, but what's this? I am being summoned with you, huh?"

He glanced sideways at the crimson-eyed incubus with clear amusement, eyes gleaming. The other only gave a quiet, almost lazy hum in response, as if the situation barely surprised him. The crimson-eyed one turned his attention fully to you, stepping even closer until the heat of his body brushed against your front. His smirk widened, dimples faintly showing.

"Hm, not that I'm complaining," he started, a wide grin flashing across his face as his eyes slowly raked over you from head to toe. The look was open, hungry, and completely unapologetic. "I don't wanna hunt this week anyway."

He let the words hang in the air for a moment. His eyes lingered on the curve of your waist, the way your clothes sat against your body, and the slight nervous rise and fall of your chest.

The golden-eyed incubus finally moved. While the other one stayed where he was, still watching you. His bare feet made almost no sound against the floor as he crossed the remaining space between you. You were still sitting just outside the edge of the circle, legs folded beneath you in a loose W-sitting position, hands braced behind you for support as you looked up at him.

He stopped right in front of you. From this angle he seemed even taller, the warm glow of his eyes looking down at you with calm, focused intensity. Without saying anything, he reached out and gently tipped your chin upward with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze fully. His touch was cool at first, then warmed quickly against your skin. He held your face there, thumb resting lightly just beneath your lower lip as he studied you.

"What's your name, summoner?" he asked, voice low and even.

Your voice stayed trapped in your throat. You tried to answer him, but the words refused to come out. You weren't sure if it was the slight fear creeping up your spine from the heavy pressure both of them carried, or if it was the quiet excitement your body kept trying to lean into from the situation you had put yourself in. Either way, you could only stare up at the golden-eyed incubus, lips slightly parted, as his fingers kept your chin tilted toward him.

The silence stretched for a moment too long.

Then the crimson-eyed one spoke, his voice lighter than his companion's but still carrying that same undercurrent of hunger.

"Jisung, you're scaring her."

Jisung didn't immediately look away from you. His thumb brushed once, slowly, along the edge of your jaw before he finally glanced over his shoulder at the other. A faint, almost lazy smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Am I?" he asked, though he didn't sound particularly concerned. His gaze returned to yours a second later, still holding your chin up with the same steady pressure. "Come on, Minho. You can't be that soft for her already. She summoned us. She can handle a little intensity."

Even so, the grip of his fingers softened slightly, becoming less demanding. He kept your face turned up toward him, but the touch no longer felt quite as overwhelming.

Minho stepped closer as well, stopping just beside his companion so that both of them were looking down at you from above. The glint in his eyes remained, but there was a sharper edge of interest now.

Jisung's fingers remained under your chin, keeping your face tilted up toward him even as Minho watched from the side. After a short silence, he asked again, his voice lower this time, steadier.

"I'll ask again," he said, voice low and even. "What is your name?"

This time the words managed to scrape their way out of your throat. Your voice came out hoarse, quieter than you intended.

"...Y/N."

The moment the name left your lips, something subtle shifted in the air between the three of you. Jisung's expression didn't change much, but the glow in his eyes deepened, as if the simple offering of your name had satisfied something in him. His thumb brushed once more along your jaw, slower this time, almost thoughtful.

"Well, hello there, Y/N," Minho repeated, tasting the name like it was something sweet. "I hope you realized what sort of mess you've got yourself into?"

A small laugh escaped from Jisung as he lowered himself down, sitting on the heel so that he was level with your line of vision. His golden eyes stayed on yours, calm and faintly amused.

"I suppose?" he started, glancing at the salt circle, the still-burning candles, and the open grimoire nearby. "Look how prepared she is. Drew a summoning circle, prepared the right offering, she even has the grimoire all about us and our nature. I'd say she thoroughly researched this, no?"

A smile crept onto Minho's face as he eyed both of you, then settled his gaze more directly on you. His eyes gleamed with quiet interest.

"Hm. She must have been so lonely to resort to this," he said, voice low. "Aren't you, summoner?"

Heat rushed straight to your face. Being called out so directly made your cheeks burn, and you dropped your gaze to the floor between you and Jisung, suddenly very aware of how exposed the whole situation felt. It all sounded a lot more desperate when said out loud by two incubi who were currently staring at you like they already knew every thought running through your head.

Jisung noticed immediately. His expression softened just a fraction. He reached out and gently took one of your hands, his fingers warm as they curled around yours. He gave a light tug, guiding you up from the floor until you were standing on slightly unsteady legs. Once you were upright, he kept hold of your hand for a moment longer, thumb brushing once over your knuckles in a quiet, almost soothing motion.

"You shouldn't be embarrassed," he said, voice lower now, calmer. His eyes stayed on your face as he spoke. "Minho and I have been summoned for the exact same reason more times than either of us can count. People get lonely. People get hungry. It's nothing we haven't seen before."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he glanced briefly toward Minho, then back to you.

"Though," he added, "we're usually called one at a time. The fact that your summoning pulled both of us at once either makes you a very talented summoner..." His gaze dipped briefly down your body before returning to your eyes. "Or you're just way too horny for one incubus to satiate that fuzzy feeling you're carrying around right now."

Your face burned even hotter. Jisung's words only made the blush deepen, spreading from your cheeks down to your neck as you tried to look anywhere but at him. The way he had so casually laid out the truth of why you summoned them left you feeling completely seen, and the embarrassment of it made your pulse race even faster.

A slow, almost fond smile tugged at his lips as he watched the color rise in your face. Something about how flustered you looked clearly pleased him. The way he looked at you then was sharper, hungrier, like the sight of you blushing and shifting under his gaze made him want to close the remaining distance and pounce on you right there on the dorm room floor.

Minho, on the other hand, stepped in closer from the side. His eyes drifted over you with open appreciation before he spoke, voice low and unhurried.

"I can practically smell you," he said, not unkindly. "Your arousal. Your need." His gaze flicked down briefly, then back to your face. "It's rolling off you so clearly and it's so distracting."

He tilted his head slightly, a small smile still playing on his lips.

"You don't need to worry, summoner. Just like the reason you called us here... we'll fulfill your wish." His tone was calm, almost reassuring, but the heat behind his words was unmistakable. "That's what we are for, after all."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as the growing fear settled deeper in your chest. You were dealing with incubi, after all. Real ones. The weight of that fact finally seemed to catch up with you all at once.

"I don't know..." you started, voice quieter now as you moved to sit at the edge of the bed. Your hands rested nervously on your thighs. "I didn't really think this would work since this was my friend's idea. I'm honestly scared."

Jisung was the first to respond. He shifted his body facing you. He slightly tightens the grip on your head as if he was trying to pull your head back to you.

"Aw, you shouldn't be scared," he said, his voice low and reassuring. "We know humans have painted us as entities that leave their prey dead, but no... we are not like that."

He rested one forearm loosely across his knee. "We feed on human's sexual energy, not your life force. So the more aroused you are, the more we can feed on you."

Minho, who had been listening quietly, let out a soft hum of agreement. He stepped a little closer to the side of the bed. "Sounds like a good deal, no?" he added, tone calm and almost conversational. "We get fed, you get pleasured."

"Now if we are done with your demonology lessons, Ji, can I get my meal now?" Minho asked, his voice carrying a clear edge of irritation. The hunger in it was obvious, sharpened by how long Jisung had been stalling.

Jisung only chuckled under his breath, clearly used to this side of him.

"You really can't control yourself when you're hungry, no?" he said, glancing over his shoulder at Minho with a faint smirk.

"Fine. I don't wanna deal with your grumpy ass anyway." He turned his attention fully back to you then. Rising from his seat, Jisung reached out and gently took your wrist, his touch warm as he guided you up from the edge of the mattress and further onto your own bed.

"Come here, pretty human," he said, voice lower now, almost coaxing as he drew you closer.

The moment Jisung pulled you close, he closed the remaining distance without hesitation.

His hand slid up to the back of your neck as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours. The kiss started firm but unhurried, lips moving against yours with a slow, deliberate hunger that made it clear he intended to take his time. When your breath hitched, he tilted his head and deepened it, tongue slipping past your lips as he tasted you properly. One of his hands settled at your waist, fingers pressing in just enough to keep you against him while he kissed you like he had all night to explore your mouth.

Jisung kept the pace controlled but intense, occasionally pulling back just enough to let you breathe before claiming your lips again. Soft, wet sounds filled the quiet room as he made out with you thoroughly, his eyes half-lidded whenever he briefly opened them to look at you. Every time you responded—whether by gripping his shirt or leaning further into him—he answered with a deeper press of his mouth, clearly feeding on the way your body was starting to melt against his.

Minho, however, was growing restless. He had been watching from the side with increasing impatience, eyes dark and fixed on the way Jisung kept you occupied. After several long minutes of being left out, he finally moved. Without a word, Minho reached out and shoved Jisung hard enough by the shoulder to break the kiss, forcing him back just enough to create space.

Jisung pulled away with a slightly breathless laugh, lips still shiny, and shot Minho an annoyed but unsurprised look.

"Greedy," he muttered, though there was no real heat in it.

Minho ignored the comment entirely. His attention was already on you as he stepped into the space Jisung had just occupied, one hand coming up to cup your jaw while his eyes dragged over your flushed face and kiss-swollen lips.

"Suit yourself," Jisung chimed, still slightly breathless from the kiss as he wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face. "I'll just busy my mouth with something else."

Without waiting for a response, he shifted down the bed. His hands slid up your thighs until they reached the waistband of your lower garments. He hooked his fingers under the fabric and began tugging it down, pulling the annoying barrier away from your skin. You lifted your hips slightly to help him, and he drew the clothing the rest of the way off, tossing it aside without care. The moment you were bare to him, Jisung's eyes fixated on it with clear hunger. He settled more firmly between your legs, hands pressing your thighs open, and then he dove in.

The first drag of his tongue against your core pulled a sharp, involuntary sound from your throat.

Before the moan could fully escape, Minho leaned down and captured your mouth with his. His kiss was firmer than Jisung's had been earlier. Deeper, more insistent as he used his lips and tongue to muffle every sound trying to leave you. One of his hands stayed cupped against your jaw, keeping you in place while he kissed you thoroughly, swallowing the soft, broken noises that kept rising each time Jisung's mouth worked between your legs.

Jisung was unhurried but relentless. He licked slow, deliberate stripes through your folds before focusing on your clit, sucking gently at first and then with more pressure as your hips twitched under him. Every reaction he pulled from you only seemed to encourage him further, his hands tightening on your thighs to keep you spread open for his mouth.

Jisung clearly loved the way you reacted to him. After a while of devouring your clit, he finally pulled his mouth away, leaving you wet and aching. Instead of giving you any real break, he brought two fingers up and began slowly swirling them over your already overstimulated bud, rubbing tight, deliberate circles that made your thighs jump. A low, pleased sound left him as he watched your face.

Behind him, his tail swayed with open excitement, the tip curling and uncurling as he fed on the sharp spike of your sexual energy.

"You have the sweetest energy I've had in a while," Jisung murmured, golden eyes half-lidded with satisfaction. "It's thick... rich. So addictive."

And before you could fully process the praise, his tail moved. The smooth, prehensile length slid between your legs and pressed against your entrance, slick from how wet you already were.

He let the tip tease you for a moment before pushing inside, the flexible thickness of his tail sinking into you with a slow, sinuous motion no ordinary cock could match. Once buried deep, it began to move in a way that felt almost alive, curling, pressing, and stroking against spots inside you that normal fingers or a regular length could never reach so precisely.

The sensation ripped a louder moan from your throat.

Minho, who had been keeping your mouth occupied, finally pulled back from the kiss just enough to let the sounds escape. His crimson eyes stayed locked on your face as you moaned and whined, clearly enjoying every broken noise Jisung was pulling out of you. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, still wet from their kissing, while he watched you fall apart between them.

Your hips lifted on their own, grinding up to meet the dual stimulation of Jisung's fingers on your clit and his tail working deep inside you. The more you moved, the richer your energy became, and both incubi reacted to it immediately. Jisung's tail curled harder against that sensitive spot inside you, and Minho's gaze darkened with open hunger, the two of them growing more intoxicated with every roll of your hips and every desperate sound you made.

Minho exhaled deeply, the sound low and strained as he clearly fought to keep himself in check. The amount of arousal rolling off you was thick enough that even he, usually the more composed of the two, was affected by it. Still, he didn't rush. Instead, he leaned in closer and began pressing soft, deliberate kisses along the side of your face, first against the shell of your ear, then your cheek, then lower to the sensitive skin of your neck.

"You're making us feel so good," he whispered against your skin, voice rough with restraint. "Feeding us this well... taking Jisung so prettily... You have no idea what you're doing to us."

Each quiet praise sank straight into you. The combination of his warm mouth on your neck and the intimate words he kept murmuring pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Your body reacted instantly, thighs trembling, breath catching until you clenched hard around the tail still buried inside you.

Jisung felt it immediately. A low, pleased sound left him as your walls clamped down around the flexible length. Rather than easing up, he doubled down. His fingers rubbed faster, tighter circles over your clit while his tail curled and thrust more insistently, pressing firmly against that deep, sensitive spot it had already found. The dual stimulation turned sharper, more relentless, clearly meant to drag you the rest of the way over.

"That's it," Jisung murmured from between your legs, golden eyes watching every reaction.

A broken cry left your throat as you came hard around Jisung's tail, your walls clamping down in tight, rhythmic pulses. Your hips jerked involuntarily, thighs shaking as the orgasm tore through you, sharp and overwhelming after how long they had been building it. Wetness spilled around the length still buried inside you, and your whole body arched between the two of them as the pleasure kept rolling in waves.

Neither of them pulled away. Jisung kept his tail moving through it, slower now, curling and pressing to draw the orgasm out as long as possible. His fingers eased off your clit just enough to avoid pushing you into pain, instead rubbing soft, steady circles that helped you ride every pulse. Golden eyes stayed fixed on your face, watching the way you fell apart for them.

"There we go," he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. "Ride it out. Don't hold back."

Minho held you against his chest through it, one hand still cradling the side of your face while the other stroked along your stomach. He pressed another kiss to your temple, then your cheek, his voice low and coaxing against your skin.

"Let it go," he urged softly. "Give it to us."

They stayed right there with you as the climax stretched on, both of them feeding openly on the thick surge of sexual energy that poured off you. Jisung slowly withdrew his tail, the length slipping free as he eased his hands off your thighs. The thick haze of the orgasm still lingered, leaving your limbs heavy and your breathing uneven as you came down from the height they had pushed you to. Only when you seemed steady enough did Minho speak.

"Switch with me," he said to Jisung, voice low but clear with intent.

Jisung let out a quiet, amused sound and moved without argument. He shifted up the bed while Minho guided you onto your hands and knees. Large hands firm on your hips as he positioned you the way he wanted. Once you were on all fours, Minho settled behind you, the heat of his body pressing in close as his palms smoothed over the curve of your ass and down your thighs.

In front of you, Jisung made himself comfortable. He sat back against the headboard slightly, legs open, and reached out to tip your chin up so you were looking at him. His eyes were dark with renewed hunger as he took in the sight of you between them.

"Hm, we met again, Y/N," Jisung murmured, teasing, thumb brushing over your lower lip. "Haa, such a pretty face you have."

Minho's hands tightened on your hips as he lined himself up from behind. The thick head of his cock pressed against your entrance, already slick from everything Jisung had done to you earlier. With one steady push, he sank into you, stretching you open around him until he was buried deep. A low, satisfied sound left him as he bottomed out, fingers digging into your flesh while he adjusted to the heat of your body.

In front of you, Jisung watched the way your mouth fell open at the sudden fullness. A slow grin spread across his face. "Look at that," he murmured. "Your mouth looks so lonely."

He shifted closer and guided the head of his cock to your lips. When you parted them, he pushed forward, sliding into the warm wetness of your mouth with a quiet groan. One hand settled in your hair, not forcing but holding, as he began to move in shallow thrusts that matched the rhythm Minho was setting behind you.

Minho started fucking you in earnest then—deep, deliberate strokes that rocked your body forward onto Jisung's cock with every thrust. The dual sensation left you trapped between them, filled from both ends as the two incubi used you exactly the way they wanted. Minho's hips met your ass with steady, heavy snaps, while Jisung kept your mouth occupied.

"Fuck—just like that," Minho muttered from behind, voice rough with pleasure. "Take it."

Jisung's fingers stroked through your hair, his own breathing growing heavier as he fucked your mouth. The wet sounds of both of them moving inside you filled the dimly lit dorm room, mixed with the low, hungry noises the two incubi made as they fed on every reaction they pulled from your body.

They fucked you in earnest, and neither of them could keep their hands still. Minho's grip on your waist tightened hard, fingers digging into your skin as he drove into you from behind with deep, powerful strokes. Every thrust pulled a fresh wave of sexual energy from your body, and the more he fed on it the rougher his hold became. His palms stayed locked around your waist like he needed the contact to ground himself, hips snapping forward with growing intensity as the dual pleasure of being buried inside you and drinking down your arousal clearly got to him. Low, rough groans left his throat with nearly every movement, the sound vibrating against your back whenever he leaned in closer.

In front of you, Jisung was just as restless. His left hand stayed fisted in your hair, holding your head in place as he fucked your mouth with steady, shallow thrusts. His right hand, however, refused to stay idle, sliding down to grope your breast, fingers squeezing and kneading the soft flesh in time with the way he moved between your lips. Every time you moaned around him, the vibration made his grip in your hair tighten and his hand on your chest grow bolder. Golden eyes stayed half-lidded with pleasure as he fed on both the wet heat of your mouth and the thick sexual energy pouring off you.

"Fuck..." Jisung groaned, the sound low and strained. His fingers flexed against your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple as he continued using your mouth. "You feel so sooo good."

Even while using your mouth, Jisung's golden eyes flicked past you, and a low chuckle left him when he saw the other incubus's tail. The dark length had started to wiggle uncontrollably behind Minho, the tip twitching and curling with clear lack of restraint.

"Oh, Minho," Jisung said, voice rough with amusement and pleasure. "You're so near, aren't you? Your tail's wiggling so much. You do that whenever you're close." His fingers tightened slightly in your hair as he kept moving between your lips. "Come on. Give it to her. She deserves it."

Those words hit both of you at once. A broken groan tore from your throat around Jisung's cock at the same time Minho let out a deep, strained sound behind you. The dual reaction only pushed everything higher. Your walls clamped down hard around Minho's cock as the orgasm crashed through you, pulsing tightly around him while you came all over his length. The sudden pressure and the fresh surge of sexual energy ripped the last of Minho's control away.

He buried himself to the hilt and held there, relishing the tight, fluttering heat of your core for a few thick seconds before he followed you over. With a low, guttural groan, Minho came inside you, spilling deep as his fingers dug hard into your waist and his tail gave one last sharp twitch behind him.

The sight of you and Minho sharing an orgasm pushed Jisung past the point of restraint. He had been holding himself back until then, keeping his thrusts into your mouth relatively controlled, but watching the two of you come undone together made something in him snap. A low, rough moan left his throat as his hips began to move faster, the earlier gentleness forgotten. His grip in your hair tightened, holding your head steady while he fucked your mouth with quicker, deeper strokes, eyes locked on the way your lips stretched around him.

"Fuck— that's it. Take it," he groaned, voice turning more vocal with every movement. Another broken sound slipped out of him as the thick wave of your post-orgasm sexual energy wrapped around him, rich and overwhelming. It fed straight into his system and shoved him right to his limit.

Jisung's breathing turned sharp and uneven. His hips stuttered once, then twice, before he pushed deep and held there with a long, strained groan. He came hard down your throat, making sure you took every drop as the pulses kept coming. His hand stayed firm in your hair the entire time, keeping you in place until he had fully finished.

Only when the last of it was spent did he slowly pull out. The sudden absence made you cough and gasp for air, saliva and the taste of him still on your tongue as you tried to catch your breath. Jisung stayed close, chest rising and falling heavily, golden eyes dark with satisfaction as he looked down at the mess he'd made of your mouth.

Breathing hard, Minho slowly pulled out of you. The sudden emptiness made your body go slack, and you dropped down onto the bed, completely tired and spent. Your limbs felt heavy, your skin still flushed and sensitive from everything they had put you through. For a moment the only sounds in the room were the three of you trying to catch your breath.

Minho sat back on his heels, wiping a hand over his face as he clearly felt the strain of remaining in the human realm. The pull of the demon realm was growing stronger now that your energy had been so thoroughly taken. After a few seconds, he glanced toward Jisung.

"I think I need to go back now."

Jisung's forehead creased immediately. "Already?" he asked, still slightly breathless. "Dining and dashing, are we?"

Minho shot him a flat look, though there was no real irritation behind it

"It's not that. She's already spent and drained after being used by two of us. I don't think her energy will suffice to keep both of us here anymore." He nodded toward Jisung. "Look. You're even starting to come see-through now."

Jisung glanced down at his own hands. Sure enough, the edges of his form had begun to flicker faintly, the solid shape of him growing slightly translucent around the margins. He clicked his tongue in mild annoyance but didn't argue.

"I'll let you handle her for now, since aftercare is what you're good for," Minho said to Jisung, his voice quieter now that the sharp edge of hunger had faded.

He leaned closer to you and pressed a soft kiss against your glistening cheek, the touch surprisingly gentle compared to how roughly he had used you earlier. His crimson eyes lingered on your face for a moment as he brushed a damp strand of hair away from your skin.

"Summon us again once you've recovered, yeah?" he murmured. "I'll wait for it."

With that, Minho finally pulled back. The air around him shimmered as his form began to dissolve, dark smoke curling around his shoulders and wings before he fully faded from the dorm room, leaving only the faint scent of something warm and otherworldly behind.

"God, I feel so full. I don't think I need to hunt for the next week," Jisung said the moment Minho fully disappeared.He wasted no time pulling you against his chest, guiding your spent body to rest on top of him. One arm wrapped securely around your back while the other stroked slowly up and down your spine. His skin was still warm, and the faint translucence around the edges of his form had mostly settled now that he was the only one left feeding on what little energy remained.

Your voice came out hoarse from all the moaning when you managed to ask him. "Are you okay?"

Jisung only chuckled, the sound low and soft against your hair. Although clearly you are the one should be asked that, he still answered.

"Of course I'm good. You gave us so much, human." His fingers kept moving gently along your back. "Minho might look dismissive, but he does like you a lot. To the point he's willing to go back first just so I could take care of you for a while."

After a few more moments of simply holding you, he carefully shifted and laid you down on your back. He propped himself up beside you.

"Here," he murmured. "I have a small gift for you."

He placed his hand flat against your lower abdomen. A mild, pleasant heat bloomed under his palm. Seconds later, a delicate mark etched itself into your skin—an elegant, dark tattoo-like symbol that settled just below your navel before the heat faded.

"There." Jisung brushed his thumb once over the new mark. "I think you know what that is, no? You can summon us again using that by channeling your energy, and we'll answer your call. That way you don't have to go through all the trouble of offerings and chanting a summoning circle. This will also protect you from any harm from other incubi that hunt. So you don't have to worry about that. And of course, only you could see it."

He pulled the blanket up over both of you, tucking it around your shoulders before drawing you back against his chest. His hands moved slowly and carefully—stroking your hair, rubbing gentle circles along your arms, occasionally pressing soft kisses to your forehead and temple. Whenever a residual tremor ran through your body, he only held you tighter and murmured quiet reassurances, letting you rest properly after everything the two of them had put you through.

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Whatever Mr. Hong wanted to say, it clearly wasn't something he intended to discuss in front of the rest of the staffs.

"Chan, sir. I have been your actor for the past six years. So please, stop calling me by my government name," he said as he sat down in the chair across from the desk.

Mr. Hong chuckled softly at the familiar protest. He never really intended to stop. He enjoyed the small flicker of reaction Chan always gave whenever he used his government name.

"Right, Chris," he replied lightly, still amused. "Anyway. Here, take a look."

He slid an iPad across the desk toward Chan. On the screen was a news article about their rival adult production company, Velvet Desire. The headline alone was enough to make Chan's brows lift slightly. Poor Mr. Chen. The scandal looked messy, and from the way the article was written, it was clear the man hadn't handled the situation well at all.

Chan stared at the screen for a moment longer. He hadn't heard about any of this. Between his own packed shooting schedule and the solo contents he'd been buried in, the news had completely passed him by. Still, the name of the production made something tighten quietly in his chest. He was an avid watcher of one particular actress under Velvet Desire, and seeing the company in trouble like this was more surprising than he wanted to admit.

"Since when?" he asked, eyes still on the article.

Mr. Hong leaned back in his chair, watching Chan's reaction carefully.

"Recently enough that the industry is still talking about it," he said. "I heard they are now permanently closed."

The way he said it made it clear this wasn't just idle gossip. Whatever had happened at Velvet Desire, Mr. Hong already had plans, and Chan had a feeling those plans involved him.

"I see. But, sir, what does it have to do with me?" Chan asked, still confused about where the conversation was heading. Mr. Hong leaned back slightly in his chair, watching him with that same calm, knowing expression.

"Ah, yes. By any chance, do you happen to know their star BJ? Ms. Y/N?"

Chan's eyebrows furrowed at the name.

Who in the industry wouldn't know that name?

He was a huge fan of your streams. Finding someone truly attractive was rare for him—especially working in the adult film industry, where he had become extremely picky over the years. But you were different. To him, you looked like someone carved from a goddess's features. If he had to count how many times he had imagined you as the one beneath him during his own shoots, he would need more than just his fingers. He would need his toes as well.

Still, he kept his expression carefully neutral.

"...I've heard of her." Mr. Hong's mouth curved into a small, amused smile.

"Well, of course you have. I heard you are frequent on her streams."

The comment landed a little too accurately. Chan's fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the iPad, though he didn't look away from his boss. For a moment, the quiet office felt a little too sharp, as if Mr. Hong had just peeled back a private corner of his life without warning.

"If I say I offered her a contract to sign for us... do you think it would be a good idea?"

That was what finally caught Chan off guard.

Red Light District, true to its name, only signed male actors. The company had built its entire brand around that exclusivity. Hearing his boss casually suggest bringing in a female BJ made something prickle under Chan's skin. Excitement, maybe. Or something far more than that.

"I'm not sure I understand you, sir," Chan said carefully. "You mean to say Red Light District offered a contract to a female actress? Exclusively?"

"Well, yes."

Mr. Hong turned his swivel chair toward the glass wall behind him, gazing out over the city as he spoke.

"She's a diamond, wouldn't you say so? She's pretty, has a huge fanbase. She would be a very good investment for us."

Chan remained quiet for a moment, eyes lowering to the iPad still in his hands. The idea alone was already stirring something restless in him. You under Homme Fatale's name. Possibly working under the same company as him.

"And what exactly would her role be here?" he asked.

Mr. Hong's reflection smiled faintly in the glass.

"Which is why you are here, Christopher."

Mr. Hong finally turned his chair back to face him fully. His expression was calm, but there was a clear weight behind his words.

"I plan on making her collab with every actor we have. You first, at that. I trust you would take care of her and make her feel comfortable for her first project with us." He held Chan's gaze steadily. "What do you say?"

For a second, Chan didn't answer. The words settled heavily in the quiet office. You. Collaborating with Homme Fatale. With him first. The same woman whose streams he had watched more times than he cared to admit. The same face he had privately imagined during his own shoots. And now his boss was placing her first project directly in his hands.

Chan exhaled slowly through his nose, buying himself a moment to keep his expression composed.

"...You're serious?" he asked at last.

"I am." Mr. Hong leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the desk. "She already has the attention. What she needs is a strong first partner under our name. Someone experienced. Someone who can lead without overwhelming her. That would be you."

Chan's fingers tapped once against the side of the iPad before going still again. Internally, his thoughts were already moving too fast—curiosity, and something far less professional twisting together beneath the surface.

"Or do you want me to hand her to Hongjoong first? He's a good candidate for her too—"

"I'll do it."

The words left Chan's mouth before Mr. Hong could even finish the sentence. There was no hesitation in them. Just a firm, immediate answer that filled the quiet office more sharply than he intended. For a brief second, even Chan seemed aware of how quickly he had spoken, but he didn't take it back.

Mr. Hong's smile widened slightly, satisfied. "Just as I thought."

He leaned back in his chair, the decision already settled in his mind. "You can go now. I'll call for you again once she's here."

Chan gave a short nod and stood from the chair. He placed the iPad back on the desk, then turned toward the door. His expression remained composed, but beneath it, something restless had already begun to stir.

As he stepped out of the office and closed the door behind him, one thought stayed fixed in his mind.

He can't wait to finally see you in person.

——

You took your third deep breath of the hour, fingers tightening slightly around the strap of your bag as the elevator continued its smooth climb. Nervousness sat heavy in your chest, no matter how many times you tried to steady it. It wasn't as if the adult content industry was new to you. Streaming had already made that world familiar. But this was different. Being signed as an actress—appearing in actual productions instead of staying behind a camera as a BJ—was a step far beyond what you were used to.

Beside you, the secretary let out a soft chuckle. You turned your head toward her. She was slightly smaller in frame than you, maybe a little younger too, though it was hard to tell. Her expression was kind, lightly amused, as if she had already seen this exact kind of tension in other people before.

"Nervous, Ms. Y/N?" she asked. She must have noticed the way you kept exhaling, one deep breath after another.

You almost wanted to laugh at yourself. Why was this building so big and tall anyway? You could have sworn you had already been inside this elevator for an hour, when in reality it hadn't even been five minutes. Maybe you really were just that tense.

You offered her a small smile instead of answering directly.

"You shouldn't be," she assured you gently. "Everyone here is friendly. Including the boss. You're very pretty and very ideal. He would like you, I assure you."

The words were meant to comfort you, and in a way they did. Still, they didn't completely quiet the restless feeling under your skin. You glanced back toward the glowing floor numbers above the door, watching them climb higher and higher.

The elevator finally dinged as it reached the designated floor.

"Smile," the secretary said softly beside you.

You took another deep breath, straightened your back, and forced a polite smile onto your face just as the doors slid open. The hallway beyond was quiet and elegant, far too polished for the nervous thrum still sitting in your chest. There was only one door in sight at the end of the short corridor.

The secretary stepped out with you and gave a small encouraging nod.

"Just knock on that door," she said. "Good luck, Ms. Y/N."

Then she remained by the elevator, clearly leaving the next part to you. You walked forward on your own, each step sounding a little too loud against the clean floor. When you reached the single door, you paused for half a second, smoothed your expression one last time, and raised your hand to knock.

knock knock

You were just about to twist the knob yourself when the door opened from the inside. The sudden movement made you freeze.

Standing tall right in front of you was a man whose presence nearly made your heart lurch up into your throat. For a second, your mind went completely blank. Out of every possibility you had braced yourself for, this was not one of them. Instead of the company's boss, the first person you saw inside the office was him.

Christopher Chan Bahng.

The same face you had seen countless times in Red Light District's productions. The same man whose work you knew far better than you would ever admit. And now, he's standing only a step away, close enough that you could see the sharp calm in his expression as he looked down at you.

Before you could fully recover, a voice came from behind him.

"Ah, there you are."

Your eyes unconsciously tried to peek past Chan's shoulder toward the source of the voice. Mr. Hong was seated further inside the office, watching the doorway with a composed smile.

"Come inside, Ms. Y/N."

Chan stepped aside slightly, holding the door open for you. The quiet shift of his body made the space feel even smaller, and for a moment you had to remind yourself to move. With your heart still beating far too fast, you stepped into the office, suddenly very aware that your first day under Red Light District had begun with the last person you expected to see.

You gave Chan a small smile and bowed your head just a little.

"Thank you," you said timidly before finally stepping inside.

The office was larger than you expected, clean and modern.

"Just sit wherever you are comfortable," Mr. Hong said. He was already seated on the couch in front of his massive office desk. You hesitated for only a second before moving toward the seat across from him, smoothing your hands over your clothes as you sat down.

Mr. Hong offered you a polite smile.

"Welcome to Red Light District," he said. "I apologize for urging you to come all the way here. I hope you don't mind."

You straightened your back a little, trying to keep your expression calm even as your nerves continued to buzz under your skin. Between Mr. Hong's eyes and Chan sitting nearby, it was hard not to feel the weight of the meeting already beginning.

"Oh no, really. It's a huge pleasure to be here," you said as you finally let yourself sit on the couch across from him.

A few seconds later, Chan took the seat beside you. Not close enough to crowd you, but not far either. You kept your posture composed, hands resting neatly over your lap, even as your awareness of him made it a little harder to focus completely on the man across from you.

Mr. Hong gave a small nod, clearly pleased by your answer.

"So," he continued, "I assume you have read the contract I sent you last time, since you are here?"

"Yes," you answered, fingers resting lightly against your lap. "Although I am not sure why Red Light District is trying to recruit me. I am not an actress... and not a male at that."

Mr. Hong gave a small, patient smile, the kind that suggested he had already expected your confusion. He leaned back slightly against the couch, one arm resting along the top of the cushion as he regarded you.

"You see, I wanted to start a project for all of my current Red Light District roster," he explained. "Each of them will release a video in accordance with the theme of the said project."

Your forehead creased faintly as you tried to follow the direction of his words. Even with his explanation, you still couldn't quite understand where you were meant to fit into something built around an all-male roster.

"And looking for an actress for each of them would be such a huge amount of work, wouldn't you say so too?" he added.

The implication settled in slowly.

A single partner shared across the project, matched with each actor under the same theme instead of the company searching for someone new every time.

"You mean to say you want me to be the one who'll act for each of your roster as their partner?" you asked carefully.

The question left your lips slower than usual. Across from you, Mr. Hong didn't look surprised by the clarification. If anything, he seemed pleased that you had reached the point so directly.

"Exactly," he replied. "The production can pay you whatever you want us to pay. You just have to collaborate with my boys."

Your fingers shifted slightly against your lap as you took a second longer to absorb it. This was no longer just a meeting about recruitment. It was a proposal that would place you at the center of Red Light District's next project.

It wasn't the idea of sex that made you nervous. You weren't inexperienced. Past relationships had already taken care of that, and intimacy itself was not something that unsettled you. What made your chest feel tight was the thought of the people you would be facing. These were not anonymous partners or faceless viewers behind a screen. They were established names in the industry, men with polished images and large followings, and the idea of standing across from them as their partner for a project was what left you unsettled.

After a moment, you lifted your gaze back to Mr. Hong.

"Is there any way I can know who the actors part of this project are?" you asked.

The question came out evenly. If you were truly being asked to take on a role this large, then the least you needed was clarity. Knowing the names, knowing exactly who you would be expected to work with felt necessary before you could even begin to consider the rest of the offer.

"Well, I can't exactly tell you yet who you will be collaborating with," Mr. Hong said. "But all I can say is that Christopher here..." He pointed toward the man seated beside you. "...will be the first one. And everyone who follows will be announced. How about that?"

Oh shit.

Not only did this man have a massive fanbase of women drawn to his build and stamina, but now he was being placed at the very start of the project. You couldn't even tell whether what you felt was pure nervousness or disbelief at the fact that you were actually going to experience him firsthand.

Your teeth caught your lower lip before you could stop yourself.

Mr. Hong must have noticed the shift in your expression, because his tone softened just slightly.

"Of course, if you don't fancy any of them, then we shall look for who you'd be comfortable with. That includes Chris."

"No—no, it's not like I am uncomfortable with him," you said quickly. "I'm a huge fan of his, actually. I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Mr. Hong raised both eyebrows, a smirk flashing across his face. "Oh, are you? What a coincidence then." His gaze flicked briefly toward Chan before returning to you. "He used to watch your streams too."

Your head slowly turned toward Chan. He only gave you a small smile, neither denying nor confirming what Mr. Hong had just said. Sitting this close to him after everything that had just been revealed left a strange heat lingering under your skin.

Mr. Hong continued before the silence could stretch too long.

"You have all the rest of the month to think about it," he said. "Please, don't feel pressured. If you want, we'll give you the script in advance so you can scan through it and decide whether you're going to take it."

His tone remained composed, but there was a clear weight of persuasion behind it.

"Ms. Y/N, I know how much you dedicate yourself to building whatever you have right now, and Red Light District is here to provide more for you. Everything Velvet Desire failed to give you."

The offer settled heavily between the three of you. More pay. More reach. A project large enough to shift the direction of your career. And at the center of it, for the first collaboration at least, was the man currently seated beside you.

You lowered your gaze for a moment, fingers pressing lightly together in your lap as the weight of the decision began to take shape. A full month to think. A script in advance. And an opportunity that was quickly becoming harder to ignore.

——

You didn't realize an entire month had already passed until the deadline was right in front of you. The days after the meeting with Mr. Hong had blurred together, reading over the contract again and again, opening the advanced script more times than you could count, then closing it just as often when the weight of the decision crept back in.

In the end, you accepted the offer before the month ran out. Whether it was opportunity, curiosity, or something harder to name that finally pushed you to say yes, you weren't entirely sure.

And now, you were back at the company.

This time, though, you weren't being led toward the boss's office. The hallway is more private, until the staff member guiding you stopped in front of a door and opened it. Beyond it was the set.

At first glance, it looked less like a studio and more like a real bedroom. Warm lighting spilled softly across the space, carefully arranged to feel intimate under the cameras. A large bed sat at the center, dressed in clean sheets and muted colors. Nightstands, a half-drawn curtain, and a few carefully placed details completed the illusion, making the room feel lived-in rather than staged. Around the edges, however, the truth of where you were remained—cameras already positioned, softboxes waiting, and a small crew moving with quiet efficiency.

This was where everything was going to happen.

"Oh, you're finally here!"

A woman near the edge of the set suddenly lit up the moment she spotted you. Before you could fully step further inside, she was already bolting toward you with bright energy that felt almost too lively for a kind of work she is currently in.

"God, you are even prettier in person," she said, looking you over with open admiration. "How come you were under such a filthy company?"

You stared at her in mild confusion, lips pressing into a thin line. The bluntness of the comment caught you off guard, especially coming from someone you had never met before.

She only chuckled at your reaction, clearly unbothered.

"I'm Hannah, makeup artist—well, Chan's makeup artist," she introduced herself. Then she tipped her head toward the set with a small, eager smile. "Come inside. Everyone has been waiting to meet you."

She turned slightly, already expecting you to follow, her earlier excitement still lingering in the way she glanced back at you. Beyond her, the carefully staged bedroom waited, along with the rest of the people who were apparently already aware that you had arrived.

Hannah didn't waste any time. With the same bright energy as before, she guided you further into the set and began introducing you to everyone nearby. Camera assistants, lighting staff, a couple of coordinators checking the shot list, and the others preparing for the first shoot. Names passed by a little too quickly for you to hold onto all of them, but you still bowed politely and offered each person a small smile.

You weren't used to this.

Streaming had always been controlled. Familiar. Contained. This was different. Here, there were multiple pairs of eyes, quiet assessments, and the knowledge that your work would no longer happen behind a private camera of your own choosing. Shyness tugged at your posture, but you forced yourself to keep your back straight and your expression composed. If you were going to do this, then the least you could do was look confident while standing in the middle of it.

You had just finished greeting another staff member when the bathroom door near the side of the set opened.

Chan stepped out.

A white towel hung low around his hips, the only thing covering him, and water still clung to his skin from the shower. A few drops trailed from his damp hair down the line of his neck, over the hard plane of his chest, and along the defined cut of his abdomen before disappearing into the edge of the towel. He didn't look rushed or self-conscious. If anything, he looked completely used to walking into a room like this.

Your throat tightened before you could stop it.

You swallowed hard, the sound almost too noticeable in your own head as your eyes caught on the water still sliding down his torso. All the composure you had been carefully holding onto slipped for a second, replaced by the sudden, very real reminder of exactly who your first partner under Red Light District was going to be.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Christopher. At least wear something before getting out of the bathroom!" Hannah scolded, already grabbing a robe from a nearby chair and throwing it at him. "Can't you see a lady sitting here? Are you trying to scare her off?"

Chan caught the robe easily against his chest. Instead of looking apologetic, he only raised a brow, the corner of his mouth lifting with mild amusement.

"How rude," he said. "I didn't know Y/N was already here. If I had known, I could have been more of a gentleman and greeted her first." His gaze flicked toward you for a brief second before returning to Hannah. "Besides, there's nothing on me that everyone here hasn't already seen before. So what's the difference?"

The casual way he said it only made the heat in your face worse. Around the set, a couple of staff members chuckled under their breath, clearly used to this kind of exchange. Hannah, however, looked one sigh away from throwing something heavier than a robe at him. Chan finally slipped the fabric over his shoulders, though he didn't bother tying it closed right away, leaving far too much of his still-damp chest visible as he turned his attention more fully toward you.

"Hi," he greeted simply. "Sorry about that."

"Oh no, it's okay. What you said isn't wrong anyway," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

Hannah dropped into the seat beside you with a small paper bag in her hand, clearly catching the exchange. Her brows lifted with immediate interest.

"Oh, so you've watched his videos?" she asked.

The question made your face heat all over again. It wasn't that you were embarrassed about watching adult content—after all, that world was part of your own work, but saying it out loud in front of the actor himself made something twist uncomfortably in your stomach.

"Anyway, since the bathroom is already free... here." She held the paper bag out to you. "Clean yourself up if you need to, then change into this outfit. Come outside whenever you're ready."

You accepted the bag with both hands. Inside was the outfit prepared for the shoot—the first outfit you would wear under Red Light District, and the one Chan would see you in once you stepped back onto the set.

Pushing yourself up from the seat, you gave them both a small nod before heading toward the bathroom Chan had just come out of.

Once the bathroom door was locked behind you, the quiet felt heavier than it had outside. You set the paper bag on the counter and opened it, only to freeze at what was inside.

Nestled carefully within the tissue paper was a wine-red lingerie set. For a second, all you could do was stare. Then, slowly, you lifted it out by the straps.

One look was enough to pull the breath from your lungs.

It was beautiful, but it would barely cover anything at all. The fabric was delicate and expensive-looking, more suggestion than clothing, with fine lace panels and clean cut lines meant to cling rather than conceal. You swallowed hard, fingers tightening slightly around the material as the reality of the shoot settled in even deeper.

Still, you had agreed to this. Shyly, and with no small amount of hesitation, you began to change. Each piece felt more revealing than the last as you slipped into it. The soft material settled against your skin with a kind of intimacy that made you hyperaware of every shift of your body. When you finally turned to face the full-length mirror on the bathroom wall, the breath you had been holding left you all over again.

Your earlier assumption had been right. The lingerie barely covered anything. It hugged your body almost too well, following every curve without leaving much to the imagination. The top had no heavy padding, yet the cut lifted and framed your breasts in a way that made them look fuller, the wine-red lace sitting stark against your skin. Lower down, the hem of the panties was edged in the same delicate lace, resting so high on your hips that it nearly tickled the underside of your ass with every small movement.

This wasn't something new. Not really. You had worn outfits like this in front of a camera before, some even more revealing, if you were being honest with yourself. Streaming had long since made the sight of your own body in lace and barely-there fabric familiar. Under a lens you controlled, it was easier. There was distance. A screen. A barrier between you and the people watching.

But this was different.

The thought of stepping outside and showing this to the crew in person made your nerves tighten far more than you expected. There would be no filter between their eyes and your body. No private setup. No safe little frame you could hide behind. Just a staged bedroom, warm studio lights, and a handful of people waiting on the other side of the door.

You let out a quiet breath and pressed your palms lightly against the edge of the sink, forcing yourself to steady. No matter how revealing the lingerie felt, this was the job you had accepted. And eventually, you were going to have to open that door.

Eventually, you forced yourself to open the door.

Hannah was already waiting just outside, and the moment she saw you she let out a bright, approving sound before ushering you toward one of the chairs near the edge of the set. Almost immediately, she began working, dabbing light makeup onto your skin with quick, smoothing everything into place without making it too heavy. Powder, a soft touch of color, a bit of definition around your eyes. Nothing overwhelming, just enough to hold under the lights.

You tried to focus on that.

But your heart kept pounding hard in your chest, each beat a little too loud.

Across the set, Chan was watching you. Not casually. Not in passing. His stare was steady and intense, following the way you sat there in the wine-red lingerie while Hannah finished preparing you. Even when someone walked between the two of you, you could still feel the weight of his attention like heat against your skin.

One of the producers approached while Hannah was still adjusting the last of your makeup and held out a thin folder.

"Here's the script again," he said. "Same one you've been reading. Just a reminder of the general plot for today's shoot. Keep it intimate and reactive. We'll adjust as we go."

You took the folder with both hands and nodded, but the words only half settled in your mind.

Because even as the producer spoke, your thoughts kept spiraling around the feeling of Chan's burning stare. Every line on the page felt harder to hold onto when your body was so sharply aware of him standing only a short distance away, already looking at you like the cameras were not the only thing about to focus on you.

Reading the script again did nothing to calm you down. If anything, it made everything worse. Sitting there with the folder open in your hands, the plot you had already skimmed through over the past month suddenly felt much sharper now that you were on set, dressed like this. On paper, it had been easier to treat as just another concept. Now, the details settled in with uncomfortable clarity.

You were meant to act as Chan's college roommate.

Your character sufferingw from a sleep disorder it led to sleepwalking. In the scene, that disorder would carry you into his room in the middle of the night, into his bed, where the sleepwalking shifted into sexsomnia. The most intense part came after: your character was supposed to wake up in the middle of it, still in his arms, still in his bed, realizing only then what was happening.

Your fingers tightened slightly on the edge of the script. It sounded a lot more intense now than it ever had during all those private read-throughs in your room. Back then, it had been distant. Contained. Easy to close and put aside. Here, under the warm set lights of the staged bedroom, with the crew finishing preparations and Chan's presence impossible to ignore, the scene felt far more immediate.

Your train of thought was cut short by the director's voice.

"Y/N? Are you ready?"

You looked up at once. Across the set, the crew had already shifted into place, cameras adjusted, lights settled into their final positions. And on the bed at the center of the bed, Chan was already there—seated against the headboard, watching the room with quiet focus as if the shoot had already begun for him.

For a second, your body felt heavier than before. Then you closed the script, set it aside, and stood up. Drawing in a deep breath, you forced the tight feeling in your chest to loosen just enough to move. When your eyes met the director's again, you gave a small nod.

"Yes."

You moved into position at the edge of the set, just outside the frame of the staged bedroom. From there, you watched as Chan settled onto the bed. He lay back against the mattress with practiced ease, shifting once before letting his body fall into the still posture of someone deep in sleep. His breathing evening out until he looked convincingly unconscious under the warm set lights.

Your fingers tightened around the small note in your hand.

It was part of the scene—the folded paper you were supposed to be carrying while sleepwalking, a detail written into the opening before everything turned more intense. The edges pressed into your skin as you held it a little too hard, the only solid thing you could focus on while the rest of the set fell quiet.

"Three... two... one. Action." The director's voice cut through the room.

That was your cue.

You closed your eyes first, letting your expression go slack, shoulders loosening just enough to sell the daze of someone moving without full awareness. Then, slowly, you began to walk toward Chan's bed. Each step was careful and unfocused, measured to look aimless, the note still clutched in your hand as you crossed the staged bedroom floor toward the man waiting for you under the appearance of sleep.

You tried to stay as calm as you could, even though your knees felt close to giving out with every step.

The bed seemed narrower now that you were moving through it under the cameras' focus. Eyes still closed, expression carefully emptied into the daze, you kept your pace slow and uneven.

Then you heard it. The soft rustle of sheets from the bed. You almost cursed under your breath.

"Y/N...?"

Chan's voice reached you before anything else. Even with your eyes closed, you could hear how professional he sounded. His tone was roughened just enough, hoarse in that convincing way of someone who had truly just woken up, still half-caught in sleep.

You remained standing at the side of his bed, unmoving, still holding the note loosely in your hand as the scene required. A second later, you felt his fingers carefully tug the paper free from your grasp.

There was a brief pause as he unfolded it.

"If you are reading this," he read aloud, voice still carrying that freshly woken roughness, "please convince me to go back into my room. I'm currently sleepwalking and I might end up doing something we both are going to have a problem with."

Chan looked up at you. For a moment, his stare lingered too long on your face—on the soft looseness of your expression, the wine-red lingerie against your skin, the way you stood so close to the edge of his bed. You were so pretty under the warm set lights that it nearly pulled him out of character.

He caught himself just in time, swallowing down the break before it could show too clearly. Still, when he spoke again, there was a faint edge of real curiosity beneath the performance.

"What do you mean... something we're both going to have a problem with?"

You felt stuck on your feet, completely unmoving. Nervous? Overwhelmed? Too conscious of the cameras currently recording every angle of the staged bedroom? You couldn't even tell which feeling was strongest. All of it tangled together until your mind went blank. Your fingers curled uselessly at your side, and for one terrifying second, the script you had read for an entire month disappeared from your head.

Then you felt a hand on your wrist. Chan's voice followed, so low and discreet that it could only have been meant for you.

"Don't be nervous," he whispered. "Come on. You need to move. I'll discreetly guide you."

You swallowed hard. The sound of your own throat working felt too loud in your head, but his words were enough to push your body back into motion. Your feet shifted at last. One hand pressed against Chan's chest, guiding him back down onto the bed as you followed the flow of the scene and straddled his hips.

"W-woah, woah. Wait, Y/N. W-what are you doing?"

You didn't know if he was still fully acting, but his tone was painfully convincing—surprised, breathless. His hands settled on your hips a second later, the grip light but deliberate, as if he were silently urging you to continue the movement the scene required.

Right. You were supposed to be in the middle of an episode. So you did.

Your hips rolled forward carefully at first, following the dazed, unfocused behavior written into the sleepwalking sequence. Even though it was acting, the moment you felt the firm bulge beneath you press up against your core, a genuine moan slipped from your lips before you could stop it. The sound was soft, startled, and far more real than anything you had planned to give the cameras.

"S-shit— Wait— don't move— fuck—"

Chan moved so effortlessly that it almost stole the air from your lungs. In one smooth motion, he lifted his upper body and locked an arm around your waist, forcing your hips to still against him. His face buried itself against the curve of your shoulder, breath coming out ragged and hot through the thin fabric of your lingerie.

For a second, it really did feel like he was trying to stop you. Then his mouth shifted closer to your ear, voice dropping into a whisper meant only for you.

"You're way too stiff, baby. Don't mind all the cameras filming you. Just go with the flow, yeah? I got you."

His body moved again after that—but this time it synced perfectly with yours. From the outside, it still looked like you were the one driving the scene. But in reality, it was the opposite. Chan was guiding every roll of your hips with the firm pressure of his hands and the controlled push of his body beneath you, making the movement look natural while taking over the rhythm himself.

Another soft moan slipped past your lips. A shiver ran straight down your spine when he ground up against you, the hard line of him pressing firmly into your core through the thin barrier of fabric. The friction sent a sharp pulse of heat low through your stomach.

"Y-Y/N— damn it— I said don't move—"

His voice was still rough enough to sell the scene, strained and breathless, but the intensity beneath it no longer felt entirely performed. This was not what was supposed to happen. The carefully written sequence from the script was already slipping. And yet, none of the people behind the cameras stopped you. No cut was called. No one interrupted the way your bodies continued to move together under the warm set lights.

Your hand moved on instinct, fingers sliding into his hair and gripping tightly as a slow pool of pleasure began to gather low in your stomach. Every guided grind of his hips only fed it further, blurring the line between what was meant to be acting and what your body was starting to feel in earnest.

Chan's frustration finally snapped through the carefully held rhythm of the scene. His hand slid up into your hair, fingers tightening before he pulled your head back in one firm motion. The sudden force exposed the line of your throat and forced your upper body to arch against him. From the way he did it, it was clear he expected your eyes to open.

But you remained in character. Your eyes stayed closed, expression still slack with that half-conscious look the scene demanded, even as a soft, genuine gasp escaped your mouth from the sting in your scalp. The sound was quiet, but far too real to be pure performance.

Chan's breath left him in a rough exhale.

"Oh, I see," he rasped, staring up at your face. "So you like this, huh? This is what you want?" His grip stayed firm in your hair, keeping your head tilted back as his other hand lifted and gave a light, testing tap against your cheek. "Are you really sleeping? Come on, Y/N."

His voice was low and strained, caught between the aggression of the scene and something sharper beneath it. Beneath you, his hips shifted again, pressing up against your core with deliberate pressure while he searched your face for any break in the act. The cameras continued rolling around you, but in that moment it felt less like a set and more like he was genuinely trying to drag a reaction out of you.

A sharp hiss left Chan's lips as his hands worked over you, only to be stopped again and again by the thin barriers of the lingerie. Every time his palms slid up your waist or over your chest, the fabric caught beneath his fingers and pulled a fresh edge of frustration into his movements. He paused just long enough to tap your cheek once more, checking, as if making certain you're still playing your role well.

When he seemed satisfied, he stopped bothering with the clothing altogether.

Using raw strength, Chan gripped the wine-red lingerie and tore it open. The sharp sound of fabric ripping cut through the staged bedroom, sudden and violent enough that your body nearly reacted on instinct. For a split second, the urge to snarl at him for destroying the outfit rose hot in your throat. You swallowed it down hard, forcing yourself to remain inside the scene, eyes still mostly closed, posture still slack even as cool air rushed over newly exposed skin.

Luckily, the camera was currently angled toward your back.

"What the hell are you doing?" you whispered under your breath, the movement of your mouth hidden from the lens.

Your eyes opened just slightly. Chan was already looking at you, close enough that the heat of his breath brushed your cheek. A slow smirk tugged at his mouth, equal parts mischievous and reassuring, as if the torn lingerie scattered around your body was nothing more than a minor detail.

"Just stay with me, yeah?" he murmured, voice low enough for only you to hear. "I got you."

Before another word could leave your mouth, Chan's lips were already on yours.

The kiss was not gentle in the slightest. It landed hard and hungry, all teeth and tongue, crashing into you with so much force it stole the rest of your breath. There was nothing polite or measured about it. He kissed you like he had been waiting for the chance his entire life, mouth open and demanding as he dragged your bottom lip between his teeth before pressing back in even deeper.

His hand fisted into your hair again, gripping tight at the back of your head as he pulled you closer. The pressure forced your mouths harder together, erasing what little space had been left between you. A low, guttural moan rumbled out of his throat—so rough and feral it vibrated against your lips. It sounded like restraint, like he was trying to hold something back.

Internally, you doubted that very much.

There was nothing restrained in the way he kissed you. His tongue pushed past your lips without patience, tasting you thoroughly, messy and deep. Every angle of his mouth was greedy, almost nasty in how completely he took control of the kiss, as if he wanted to devour the sound of your surprise before it could fully form. The hand in your hair flexed whenever you tried to pull in a breath, keeping you right there against him while his other arm locked around your waist.

Slowly, the sheer dominance in the way Chan kissed you began to overwhelm your senses.

What started as shock melted into something far more dangerous. Almost without realizing it, you were kissing him back. Your mouth yielded under the rough press of his, then answered it, drawn in by the sheer intensity of him. The feeling was ecstatic—dizzying in a way you had never experienced before. No one had ever kissed you like this. Even though it was rough, almost disrespectful in how completely he took from your mouth, your body reacted with unmistakable heat. It liked it. Craved more of it.

Your arms lifted and wrapped around his neck, fingers sliding into the damp hair at his nape as you pulled yourself closer. Chan responded immediately. With a firm tug and the shift of his body, he drew you down until your chest rested against his. The change in position made your breath hitch into the kiss, the solid heat of him rising to meet you.

That was when it fully registered.

He was still topless beneath you. Your palms landed against the sturdy plane of his chest, and the hard muscle under his warm skin made your fingers flex instinctively. For a second, you tried to push yourself up, needing space, needing air, but Chan thrust upward at that exact moment.

The hard line of his cock ground firmly against your already soaked cunt through what little fabric remained between you. The sudden friction tore an audible gasp from your lips, breaking the kiss as your body jolted from the sharp rush of pleasure. Your palms pressed harder against his chest, not quite pushing him away anymore, while your hips stuttered from the feel of him dragging so deliberately against your sensitive core.

Chan's breath was ragged against your mouth, his hands already tightening on your waist as if daring you to try pulling away again.

Your hips started moving on their own.

Almost without thought, they rolled forward to meet his, falling into rhythm with every upward grind of his body beneath you. The thin barrier of fabric did almost nothing to dull the sensation. Each time the hard bulge of his cock dragged against your sensitive core, another spark of pleasure shot low through your stomach and made your thighs tighten around his waist.

Your eyes dropped to half-lidded as you stared down at him, lips parted around uneven breaths. You tried to muffle the sounds rising in your throat, forcing them back down before they could fully escape, but it was impossible. Every time his length grazed over you just right, a soft, broken noise slipped free anyway, too raw to swallow completely.

Chan watched you with dark eyes, his hands steady on your waist as he guided the movement without ever fully stopping it.

"God, I didn't know you were like this," he murmured, voice low and rough. "All hazed and deep in your sleep... but here you are, grinding yourself on top of me." His hips pushed up again, deliberate and slow, pressing his bulge firmly against your soaked cunt. "Does it feel good, hm?" a weak whine left you before you could stop it.

Slowly, almost helplessly, you nodded.

That small admission only seemed to feed the heat between you. Your hips kept moving, chasing the friction with less and less restraint, while Chan continued to meet every roll of your body from below. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the script still existed—but as for whether you were still in character...

You didn't even know anymore.

"Please..." you breathed out, the word barely holding together as your teeth sank into your lower lip.

Your head wobbled, half wanting to tip back from the pleasure building low in your stomach, half wanting to drop forward toward his mouth again. Every grind of his hips beneath you made the choice harder, the hard line of his cock dragging against your soaked cunt with enough pressure to pull another shaky sound from your throat.

Chan's eyes darkened at the plea.

"Oh, baby," he hummed, the softness in his voice edged with something openly mocking. His hands flexed on your waist, guiding your hips into another slow, deliberate roll against him. "What do you want, hm?" He pushed up harder this time, letting you feel every thick inch of the bulge straining beneath you. "You want more? You want to feel better?"

Your fingers tightened against his chest, nails pressing lightly into warm skin as your hips stuttered forward again on instinct. Whatever answer you tried to form dissolved into another soft, needy sound, your body already responding long before your mouth could catch up.

He chuckled under his breath, the sound low and knowing.

"Right. As if you could answer me right now."

Chan shifted beneath you, adjusting his position with easy strength until your balance settled more firmly over his hips. One hand lifted to your face, his palm warm against your cheek as his thumb stroked slowly across your skin. The touch was deceptively gentle compared to everything else he had done, and your body reacted before thought could catch up, your head immediately leaning into his hand, seeking more of the contact.

"Lift your hips for me, baby," he cooed. The soft command sank straight through the haze clouding your mind. Already smitten by the way he handled you, you obeyed without resistance. Your hips rose just enough to create space between your bodies.

Chan didn't waste the opportunity. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down in one smooth motion, dragging the last barrier away from your skin. Cool air touched your newly exposed core for only a second before the heat of his body returned beneath you. You are now left completely bare over him, open and vulnerable under the warm set lights while his hands guided you back into place.

Your hips dropped back down at once, instinctively seeking the heat of him again. The moment your bare cunt pressed against the hard bulge still trapped beneath his clothes, Chan let out a low chuckle.

"So greedy," he murmured, clearly amused. "Can't wait for me to fill you up, hm? This pretty cunt needs some warming, is that it?"

His hands returned to your waist and lifted you with easy strength, creating space between your bodies. You resisted on instinct, stubbornly trying to sink back down against him, chasing the friction he had just taken away. The small struggle only seemed to entertain him further.

"Ah, ah. Keep it up, baby," he warned lightly, though there was nothing soft in the way his fingers flexed against your skin.

Then he finally freed himself. The thick length of his cock sprang free from the remaining fabric, and the moment it did, the tip slapped softly against your entrance. The sudden hot contact tore a louder whine from your throat, the sound slipping out before you could swallow it down. Your hips jerked at the feel of him—bare, heavy, and so close.

Chan held you there for a moment longer, the thick head of his cock resting against your entrance as if he wanted you to feel every second of the wait. Your hips twitched in his hands, a restless little movement that made the tip drag through your wetness and pull another soft, broken sound from your throat.

"Easy," he murmured, though the restraint in his voice was already thinning.

Then he began to lower you. Inch by inch, the blunt head pressed in, stretching you open around him with a heat so intense your fingers curled hard against his chest. A shaky gasp left your lips as he sank deeper, the thick length of him filling you far more completely than the earlier friction had even hinted at. Your body clenched around the intrusion on instinct, walls fluttering as you tried to adjust to the size of him.

Chan's breath hitched beneath you.

"Fuck..." The curse slipped out low and rough, his grip on your waist tightening as he guided you down the rest of the way until you were fully seated on his cock. The sudden fullness punched a louder moan from your throat, your head tipping forward as your thighs trembled around his hips.

For a second, he stayed still, buried to the hilt inside you, letting you feel every hard inch of him.

Then his hips rolled up. The first real thrust dragged a high, needy sound out of you. Chan followed it with another, deeper this time, using his hold on your waist to pull you down into every upward snap of his hips. The stretch, the heat, the wet slide of him moving inside you—it all crashed together so intensely that whatever remained of the script scattered completely.

Your body moved with him, meeting each thrust as best as you could while he fucked up into you with growing force. Soft, unbroken moans spilled from your lips, each one punched out of you whenever he bottomed out. The staged bedroom, the cameras, the crew beyond the lights—all of it faded under the overwhelming feel of Chan filling you again and again, his hands locked on your waist like he had no intention of letting you go.

Chan didn't give you everything at once.

Even with his cock buried deep inside you, he kept control of the pace, rolling his hips in slow, deliberate thrusts that filled you completely before easing back just enough to make your body chase him. Every time the pleasure started climbing too fast, he changed the rhythm—shallower, slower, denying you the exact pressure you needed. Your thighs trembled around his waist as a frustrated whimper broke from your throat.

He fucked you through the first rise carefully, guiding your hips down onto him until your walls fluttered hard around his length and your breath turned sharp and uneven. The moment your body tightened like you were about to tip over, Chan locked his hands on your waist and held you still, stopping all movement. The sudden denial dragged a broken sound out of you, your fingers clutching at his chest as the unfinished peak left you shaking.

Only when the worst of it faded did he start again.

The second build was worse.

Chan thrust up into you deeper, harder, letting the wet sound of your cunt taking him fill the narrow space between your bodies. Your moans grew higher, less controlled, every stroke pushing you back toward the edge with ruthless precision. Heat pooled low and tight in your stomach until your whole body was straining for release—And once more, he stopped.

A sob caught in your throat. Your head dropped forward, hair sticking to your damp cheeks as frustrated tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. You were trembling in his hold now, oversensitive and aching, the emptiness of being denied twice leaving you a mess against his chest.

"Please—" The word broke out of you raw. "Chan, please—"

That was when he finally gave in.

His grip tightened and he snapped his hips upward hard, burying himself to the hilt before fucking into you in earnest. There was no more teasing after that—only deep, relentless thrusts that forced broken moans from your throat with every impact. The slick, nasty sound of skin meeting skin filled the bedroom, wet and filthy as he drove into your soaked cunt again and again.

Your bodies moved together in a rough, desperate rhythm. Chan's hands stayed locked on your waist, pulling you down into every hard thrust while your arms wound tightly around his neck. Moans spilled freely from both of you now, bouncing softly off the walls of the set as the heat between you swallowed everything else. The cameras, the crew, the fact that this was supposed to be a shoot—all of it disappeared. There was only the punishing pace of his cock, the slap of his hips against yours, and the way your bodies clung and shuddered through every stroke.

"Fuck— you feel so good—" Chan groaned, forehead pressing against yours as he fucked you faster.

Your sobs turned into high, helpless sounds of pleasure, the earlier frustration burning straight into overload. The coil inside you snapped without warning. You came hard around him, walls clenching and pulsing as a broken cry left your lips, body jerking through the force of it.

Chan followed almost immediately.

A deep, guttural moan tore from his chest as his hips slammed up one last time and stayed there, burying himself as deep as he could while he spilled into you in thick, heavy pulses. His hands gripped you hard enough to bruise as he rode out his release, forehead still pressed to yours, both of you shaking through the shared climax.

For several long seconds, neither of you moved. Only the sound of ragged breathing filled the space between you, bodies locked together, slick with heat, completely lost in each other. 

"CUT! Fantastic! That was phenomenal Y/N. You did so great!"

The director's voice cut cleanly through the haze, sharp enough to drag the rest of the world back into place.

If it hadn't been for that call, you might not have remembered this was supposed to be a video at all. You had been too carried away. Chan had been incredible, more than you could have imagined, and the intensity of it had pulled you under so completely that the line between performance and reality had disappeared.

Even after the filming officially ended, you remained flopped against his chest, too weak to move. Your muscles felt useless, heavy with exhaustion and the lingering tremor of release. Every breath pressed your body closer against his damp skin, and for a moment all you could do was lie there, cheek resting over the steady thrum of his heartbeat while the set slowly came back to life around you.

But you stayed right where you were, boneless and spent on top of Chan, still trying to gather enough strength to remember how to move at all.

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You're not weird.

Well, you like to believe you're not.

You have a normal job, you go outside, go on date — with people you meet normally.

You have a normal 9 to 5 job, you go outside, you have a regular social life — you go on dates with guys you meet 'normally.'

So what if you sometimes like to unwind with a video game —

Or multiple hours of it.

Okay but to be fair you deserve it! To decompress playing a silly little gacha game.

You've also made a small community — through one of your friends who does play Genshin and other games, Felix.

That's where you met Chan — joining VC after a long day to hear him and another friend Jisung laughter over playing some stupid game.

Since then you've pretty much been inseparable. Spending hours on VC gaming, watching movies, you name it.

Now have you seen all of his face — not really… But you know you're not being catfished! Felix can vouch for that.

It's honestly surprisingly amazing, he listens to you, doesn't immediately go to fix your problems, letting you just vent — hell he's even shown you some of the tracks he's working on.

He also spoils you rotten in genshin, now its not a transactional friendship he just loves spoiling you!

So when you see him and Jisung hanging out in the servers voice chat on the way from a horrible date, that you have no doubt you'll be telling him about.

You rush home faster than you care to admit, not even bothering to get changed, just joining the call with the familiar ping sound, immediately hearing Jisung cheer.

"Y/N!!! finally, i need your help on this quest — Chan's useless." Jisung whines into his mic, noticing it cut out from the loudness. You cant deny the small flutter when you hear Chan's laughter and profile turn green.

"Im not bad — you just refuse to listen to me." He resorts, Jisung goes back to rambling about something — probably about his stupid roommate who keeps unplugging the router when Jisung gets too loud.

"You okay?" Chan's familiar voice breaks Jisung's streak, pulling you back into reality, getting comfortable on your bed, your phone propped up by your pillows.

"Yeah, bad date, that's all." You brush off, Jisung offers a silly comment before continuing, Chan on the other hand just hums, you swear if his camera was on you would feel his eyes on you.

After around 20 more minutes Jisung finally breathes it seem, letting out a dramatic sigh. "I gotta go — I got to help my roommate tomorrow, see you guys in the lobby tomorrow?" He hums, taking your joint sounds of agreement as queue to leave the call.

"So"

"So.."

The call fills will a comfortable silence, faintly hearing him moving on the other end of the call.

After a moment you hear Chan let out a groan, stretching presumably "How was the date." He mumble.

"It was fine." You say almost automatically, not really wanting to go deeper but knowing Chan he was going to pull it out of you.

"You just said it was bad, not its fine?" You can nearly hear the smug in his voice, rolling your eyes as you turn onto your back, looking at the ceiling.

"Do you have to remember every tiny thing?" Feigning annoyance when you hear him laugh, cutting out slightly.

"When it comes to you? Yeah." Okay so that definitely shouldn't have worked on you, but you cant help but feel the blood rush to your cheeks.

"Its just —" Finding yourself wanting to speak to him, not that your other friends don't care, you just always find yourself feeling — light, after talking to him, not feeling like a burden. "He kept talking about his exes and how they were the problem, which if you have that many exes it seems to be a you issue."

Hearing Chan laugh through the speaker only makes you feel lighter, a small smile finally breaking onto your face for the first time tonight.

"God — he sounds awful." Chan is barely holding back a laugh himself, picturing this guy you went out with.

"I know! He also kept talking about how he is sooo good at sex because, it only lasts a few minutes before they cum." You find yourself laughing as you reminisce

"You're kidding."

"I wish i was."

The room echoes with the joint sound of your laughter, unable to stop smiling even as it dies down.

"At least you didn't sleep with him." Chan's voice cuts out almost perfectly with the comment, suddenly feeling a tinge of something you don't particularly know.

You and Chan have never talked about this stuff — you've had no reason to, so why does it feel like this — dangerous, right?

"I mean, that was a reason i was going out with him, i guess." As soon as the words leave your mouth you regret it, the silence that follows feels like it stretched on for minutes.

"Been that long?" His words shatter the silence, a breath you didn't even know you were holding escaping as you let out a small laugh. "Something like that."

"Oh, well now you have me curious."

"Shut up."

"No, come on — tell me, consider my interest piqued." You can nearly hear the smirk in his voice, letting a long groan escape, despite the smile on your lips.

"I just — its hard for me to y'know — without help." Your voice growing quieter and quieter as you finish talking, immediately feeling ice cold as you realise what you said, considering if you can backtrack —

"Hard for you to what, sweetheart?" Chan's voice cuts off whatever thoughts you were having.

Pause, sweetheart? That's when you finally realise what that feeling was — you were turned on.

No — surely not, you weren't turned on, you haven't even met this guy! You barely know what he looks like, the only photo you've seen of him, his face is half covered by a mask!

"C'mon — don't get shy on me now, you were all for telling me earlier."

You hope he doesn't catch the way you take an audible breath, trying desperately to figure out what the hell is happening — also not wanting to focus on the fact your pressing your thighs together at his words.

"Don't make me say it Chan —" You're about to ask him to forget, change the conversation when he cuts you off.

"Say what? That you can't come without help — let me guess, one too many nights by yourself, you go on a stupid dating app to meet someone and they left you feeling high and dry?" His voice having the edge of mockery, his words bordering on crossing a line that definitely shouldn't be crossed.

"Chan.." You don't know what else to say, your brain clouded with thoughts of him — ones you have had before but always pushed away because this is not happening, right?

"What? You started this, sweetheart — started talking to me about how you cant cum by yourself, willing to sleep with some guy who couldn't care less about you." His voice straining with every word, almost like he's been holding back saying this

"Chris, i don't know what you're saying." You seriously don't, your brain working overtime trying to process this, because you don't know this guy — Chan, your Chan, you never thought could say this stuff.

"Im saying — let me help you."

Silence fills the line, only hearing yourself breathing heavily.

"What? Cat got your tongue sweetheart?" You can nearly hear the smirk through the static of the call, picturing him on his bed, maybe he's already touching himself —

No.

You cant reply — you try and speak and all that can come out is a broken whine, you hope it doesn't catch, that somehow it wasn't picked up but you know it was.

"Remember when you got back from shopping that one time? you turned your camera on and started showing the guys your hall." His words pull you back, the sudden change in topic confusing but you let him continue.

"You dropped something — you bent over and i could see you — those pretty pink panties, had to pretend i wasn't hard while you were gushing over some stupid conversation you had with a guy at the store."

His words immediately make you clench unconsciously, a pathetic whine escaping before you can stop it. Feeling your fingers itch to touch yourself.

"Chan.." Your voice barely audible — uncertainty, worry — lust, coursing through your veins.

"Tell me to stop — tell me you don't want this and ill stop, let you forget this happened." His words honest, you know Cha, he'd never do anything you weren't comfortable with, which makes this worse because fuck — you want this, almost an embarrassing amount.

A moment passes that feels like an hour honestly, your words coming out unsure, cautious — like a baby deer ready to flee.

"I've never done anything like this before." The admission feels embarrassing, it shouldn't but it does — the inexperience in something you never even thought about.

Before you can think any further you hear a glitched laugh come from your phone, Chan's laughter cutting out, his laugh which may as well be contagious makes you smile, feeling slightly better.

"Sweetheart, you're acting as if i do this on the daily." Feeling your cheeks heat up from his teasing comment you groan in response.

Chan continues, his laughter dying down. "Poor baby — haven't even started and you're a mess."

You groan, throwing your phone down beside you, looking at the ceiling, you can almost feel the blood rushing through your body, the new experience that's about to happen barely processing properly in your brain.

"What are you doing?" Your words coming out more unsure, timid then you hoped, if Chan wanted to laugh he didn't, which you're grateful for.

"You mean am I touching myself yet?" His confident and direct words make you whimper almost, wanting to bury yourself deep into your blankets.

Another part of you is turned on — the confidence of his voice, the slight rasp going straight to your core.

"Shut up."

"You asked, angel."

"Chan."

A deep laugh echoes through the speaker, "sorry sweetheart — no, not yet."

The not yet hangs in the air, the silence that follows isn't awkward its full of unresolved tension that's bubbling over.

"What do you think about — when you…" You don't finish the sentence, you're not a prude — or a virgin, you just don't fully grasp what's happening.

"You." His simple, one word response leaves you breathless.

When he can only hear your uneven breathing he continues. "Think about you — here, underneath me, squirming as I touch you — ruin you."

Your hands drift to the hem of your skirt, still in the outfit earlier from your date, you can feel your clit throbbing against your soaked panties.

"Wonder what you taste like, what you feel like under me." You can faintly hear him shuffling on his side of the call, hissing suddenly.

"Already hard from just thinking about it."

An unapologetic moan escapes from your throat, your nails dragging on your thighs.

"Still dressed up from that date, yeah? Take it off for me, angel." His voice smoothing over any doubts you have, your heart fluttering.

You do as he says, slowly removing every article of clothing, almost to tease him, even if he cant see it.

"Its off." Your voice soft, uneven — the first proper sentence you've said in minutes.

"Such a good girl for me." He coos, his own breathing growing unsteady, the distant sound of movement on his end.

A pathetic moan rips from your throat, you're becoming shameless, the need for him overtaking any doubts and uncertainty.

"Oh you like that, huh? Should've guessed, you always get shy whenever someone compliments you." You don't know what's come over you, maybe its the fact months of hidden feelings or maybe need.

"Wish you were here.." The words leave your lips before you can process, immediately Chan groans.

"I know sweetheart, I need you so bad." You can hear the need dripping from his voice, then you catch it, the quiet wet sounds — his breathing uneven — is he touching himself already? Reality dawning on you that he want you just as bad.

"What would you do if you were here?" The sudden confidence does exactly what you hoped, it ruins him, an uncharacteristic whine leaving his lips, catching the sounds of heavy breathing and gasping as you look to the phone watching his profile picture glow green whenever the sounds escape his lips.

"Shit — first thing id do is taste you, ruin you with my tongue, fuck —" a hiss escapes through his lips. Chan on the other end of the call, fucking his fist to the sound of your voice, the whole experience of this turning him on more than it should.

The sound of him touching himself, fisting his cock — god you wish you could see it, his thumb dragging over the slit, his head thrown back in pleasure —

A desperate moan escapes your lips, your own hands trailing over your body, finally — two of your fingers drag over your slit, collecting the slick coating your pussy, brushing over your clit only to pull a pornographic moan from deep in your throat.

The sudden jolt of pleasure only leads you wanting more — reaching to your nightstand grabbing the small purple vibrator settling it on your stomach as your finger move back to your clit.

"Wish it was your hand — so much smaller than mine, watch as you take me — struggle to fit it all in —" A shaky breath comes from your phones speaker, the sounds Chan's making only growing louder and needier.

A small whimper leaves your lips, growing consumed by pleasure, your fingers not feeling like nearly enough — reaching for the vibrator, spreading your slick with the silicone head before a a faint buzzing fills the room, taking a sharp breath at the pleasurable vibration.

You don't even register the lack of sound from Chan — so focused on pleasure, the jolts of vibrations making you curl into the mattress.

"Shit — is that a vibrator sweetheart? If i had know you were so fucking perfect i would have said something earlier." His words have an edge, the coarse words only sending shivers down you.

"Chan.." You moan, pressing the vibrator harder onto your clit, squeezing your legs shut around your hand and the plastic, bucking your hips up to meet the vibrations.

"I know sweetheart, you're doing so well for me, yeah?" His breathy praises only make everything worse, the situation is overwhelming, his presence only making the pleasure feel more real — raw.

"Need more.."

"Shh I know — wish i was there — keep it on that pretty clit for me, turn it up okay?" His voice growing deeper, words coming out slower, small curses leaving his lips.

You don't respond — you cant, only letting out a pathetic moan, your eyes rolling back into your head. You do as he says — messily trying to find the button, a strained sound leaves you as the vibrations grow louder and harder against your aching clit.

"That's it good girl — making yourself feel good? all for me right?"

"Only you Channie — please.." Your whines only making him even more desperate, the sound of your begging and the nickname — he's in heaven.

"Please what? tell me what you want pretty." Chan is pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven, your pretty moans and begging for him pushing him closer to his own release.

"Wanna see you." The request makes him silent before you hear the sound of his camera turning on, using your free hand to grab your phone.

Instead of seeing him you just see his cock his hand — god his hands.

"Look at what you're doing to me, angel." he hisses, the camera flipped to see his cock, glistening at the tip — fuck he's thick, his hand twisting around his cock, his thumb gliding over the tip, letting out a deep moan.

You're so close, turning up the vibrator to the max setting, bucking desperately into it, blabbering and turning into a moaning mess, completely ignoring the thin walls separating you and neighbours — oh yeah and the fact you're still in the servers voice chat where anyone can join.

Chan's no better, his own breathing growing erratic and his moans barely being contained. "So loud — fuck, if i was there id do anything for you."

"Want your hands." You're brain is lagging behind, so consumed by Chan, everything about him is turning you into mush.

"Yeah? where?"

you can barely think, you can feel your orgasm building in your cut, your legs growing restless, eyes lolling shut.

"Around my neck — on me, in me — Channie its too much!" a choked sob escapes, a string off incoherent whimpers echoing through your room.

"C'mon, baby you got this, gonna cum for me — s-shit." Chan's just as ruined, if you could see the screen his hand shaking, gliding over his cock, his tip leaking cum.

"Sound so pretty — wonder what you'd sound like when you cum around my cock — splitting you open, begging me for more, turning you into a mess."

Your vision goes blurry, his words sending you over the edge, that tight coil snapping, your back arches off the mattress, your grip right on the sheet, fat tears rolling down your cheeks, your hand loosely holding the vibrator against your clit as you ride out your orgasm.

your back arching off the bed as you moan, the overwhelming pleasure making you cum.

Chan's heavy breathing mixed with a string of curses signal his own orgasm, mumbling your name under his breath.

For a moment all that can be heard is breathing, catching your breath — both of you respectively processing what just happened.

Then your heart drops.

The familiar ping of someone joining the voice chat.

Felix's cheerful voice breaking the silence, completely oblivious to what happened mere moments ago.

"are you guys playing without me?"

a few days after the incident, Chan became distant.

Not distant per say, but less active.

whenever he did talk it was so the same flirty, acting like nothing happened.

which is what confused you, because he started this he acted like it meant something and now he's acting like nothing happened.

you weren't heart broken, just confused maybe a little bit hurt.

your friends know something was up not what but that's something definitely happened.

So when Jeongin invited you to small get together he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Stepping into the apartment you immediately see at least 12 people, a mix of boys and girls.

Definitely not the 'small' get together Jeongin claimed.

As soon as you entered Jeongin comes to greet you, bringing you over to the living room, while you've been friends for ages you've never really been to his place.

When you awkwardly introduce yourself to everyone, most people say Hi, one person doesn't.

You cant say you recognise him but god does he seem familiar.

Almost as if he can sense it, he gives you a little wave before focusing back onto the TV.

The night was going great, you've been hanging around with Sana and Mina, you've met them a few times before but definitely happy you're not completely clueless to everyone here.

Exchanging a few words with everyone, well — nearly.

Everyone except him, because every time you go near him he's suddenly pulled away — hell you don't even know his name because everyone just yells at them to get their attention.

throughout the night you could feel eyes on you, you're sure of it.

You take solace in the kitchen, raiding Jeongin's fridge when he appears behind you.

"Rude." His words lacking any animosity.

"All the snacks have been raided — who only brings out one bag of chips for like a dozen people." You mumble your eyes wandering the fridge.

"That would be my roommate — hey, speak of the devil." Jeongin's cut off when a strangely familiar laugh echoes the room.

"C'mon — i didn't think a dozen people would show up! You left me unprepared —" You've heard that voice before, not tonight either.

suddenly flashbacks of a week ago come flooding back, standing up quickly from the fridge to turn around.

It's him.

Of course its him.

it seems he didn't know it was you there. the grim that was plastered on his face shifting to something of surprise.

Jeongin casually grabs the drink he came in here for before leaving the kitchen, leaving only you and him left.

"Chan." you say almost unsure like you're dreaming. A part of you is thinking that he's going to correct you tell you what his name actually is, but he doesn't.

"I didn't know — okay?" he takes a second before replying, trying to calculate his response carefully.

"You didn't know I was coming or that you didn't know i knew Jeongin?" the words coming out sharper than you expected, your voice shaky and confused trying to process what the fuck is happening.

"That you were coming." His words acting like a confession. So he knew — he knew you knew Jeongin — all this time. When did he find out, how did he — did he know when?

you don't say anything, you can't. thoughts racing through your mind trying to form answers that you don't even know if you want.

Chan takes your silence and tries to explain.

"I found out after — Jeongin was showing me photos he took at a part and i saw you and i just — panicked i guess." he looks guilty, not because he did anything wrong but because he hated ignoring you.

"I didn't know how to act around you know that I knew you were closer to me than I ever thought, I didn't want to scare you." He continues, the confession bringing polite some of your questions. suddenly the hurt faded. You understood why he did it but still.

"You think you could scare me?" You question, moving forward slowly.

"Well if I just went to you and told you, hey i actually live with your best friend, how would you react?" His words lightening the mood slightly, a small smile forming on your lips.

"Fair point."

A few moments pass, both of you unsure of what to say — what to do.

Because now that you finally talked you realise. this is the first time you've seen him — well, most of him. The call replaying in your head momentarily, before you take a deep breath.

"I meant it though." His voice breaking the silence capturing your attention again. Meeting his eyes you let him continue, your heart fluttering slightly as you look at him.

"Everything I said — every last word." His voice drops, sounding so much more different — hotter.

"You cant just say that Chris." You quickly, looking around to make sure you're alone.

"C'mon you've said a lot worse, sweetheart." Realising how close he suddenly is — you can feel his fingers graze over your cheek as he forces you to look at him.

"Chan you can't be serious." Your voice barely above a whisper, extremely aware of your surroundings, anyone can walk in — catch you, almost mirroring that night in the call — the feeling of potentially being caught.

"Dead serious." His eyes stay on you, not looking away for a moment — you can't do this right? Do what exactly — seriously what was going to happen.

"Heres what's going to happen."

"Oh, do tell."

A small smile cracks through his facade at your little jab, before looking around.

"You're gonna tell Jeongin im driving you home." His voice is dangerously calm, like he's planned this, which honestly maybe he has.

"Seriously, why would you be driving me home you don't even know me to Jeongin's knowledge."

"He's too drunk to actually think it through."

Okay so maybe he has thought about it, realistically you know there is so many things that can go wrong —

"This is only if you want it." His sudden interruption makes you finally look at him properly, he's giving you an out.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

You can see the grin instantly spread on his face at your agreement.

The drive to yours was short — too short for you to properly comprehend what's happening, also the fact Chris — the guy you've had a stupid thing for, for months lived only 10 minutes away.

It was also hard to focus when his hand was on your thigh — instinctively as soon as he started driving it drifted to your thigh, giving you a moment to say something, to stop him, before giving it a small squeeze before looking ahead.

By the time you got to your apartment you were already a mess, his whole mood shifted to something you cant place, the change making you squeeze your legs together unintentionally.

Walking up to the apartment should have felt calming, or at least a bit better than the ride but no — the realisation that Chris, the guy you met on genshin, is about to set foot into your apartment.

Andddd also do something else.

As you reach down to your bag, fiddling with the key, trying to find the correct one, you can feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, hearing Chan laugh softly behind you before grabbing the set of keys, first try opening the door.

Stepping inside only worsened your nerves, was your place clean enough? Oh god what if you left something out?!

All thoughts leave your head as soon as you feel Chan's hand press against the small of your back, pushing you further into the apartment.

"Relax, i don't bite — unless you want me to." He whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

His hand slides down your waist, settling onto your hip, spinning you to face him — before you can even process his lips crash onto yours.

His tongue glides over yours, his hands moving all over your body, grasping at you, holding you in place like you'll disappear if he lets go.

Unable to stop yourself your hand glides over his stomach, over his abs, moaning instinctively into the kiss.

Chan uses that and pushes his tongue into your mouth, dominating the kiss — guiding you blindly through the apartment.

Before you know it your back hits the bed with a bounce, quickly followed by Chris crawling over you, your fingers lacing through his hair pulling him down into another heated kiss.

His hips grind against yours — his constrained cock rubbing against your clothed clit, your legs spreading instinctively to allow his shallow thrusts to deepen.

His lips leave yours only for them to glide down the column of your throat, nipping at the delicate flesh, pressing an apologetic kiss on it before his tongue slides across the marked kin again. "So pretty under me — always knew you would be, don't have such a smart mouth without the screen, huh?" His words muffled by your throat, his fingers gliding up your side, under your shirt.

Getting the hint you lean up, pulling the shirt over your head before falling back down against the mattress.

Chan can only marvel at you, your top half left only covered by a flimsy bra that ridden down, half of your tits spilling out. You don't know what to expect but Chan's gaze never leaves them, his thumb gliding over the soft flesh.

Unexpectedly his fingers tug down the bra fully, your tits falling out of the flimsy bra, as soon as it happens his plush lips wrap around one of your perked nipples, arching immediately into his mouth, a moan rips out of your throat, your fingers tug on the strands of hair but that only makes his suck harder. His tongue glides over the swollen bud, teeth grazing over it, moaning desperately into your chest, his hands holding you in place.

"S-shit!— Chan!" You can barely speak coherently, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, the pleasure going straight to your core, mixed with the uneven rolls of his hips into yours, his cock teasing your covered cunt.

When he pulls off there's a string of spit connecting you — when he looks at you through his lashes you nearly cum right there.

Chan pulls off momentarily to look at your ruined state, mumbling something you cant hear under his breath. you lose focus for a moment before snapping back to see Chan pushing his pants and boxers down, letting them fall somewhere on the floor with his shirt following quickly.

Moving back to you his fingers trace at the band of your shorts, waiting till you give a small nod to pull them off, a groan escaping as he watches your panties pull away sticky from your cunt.

"Don't get a big head, Chan." Your words sharp but a cover for the nerves coursing through your veins, your eyes trained on him — fuck did it look that big on the phone?

"Think its too late for that, sweetheart." You don't catch the small wink he throws your way, focused on the way he moves between your legs, hooking your ankles around his waist.

"Tell me to stop —"

"Chan if you don't do something i will kill you." Your voice lacking any seriousness, still Chan only smiles in response, pressing a kiss to your neck, his cock running down your cunt, gathering all the slick that made a mess of your cunt before finally slipping in.

The stretch is immediate, Chan slowly sinking into your tight cunt, you can feel him everywhere — the wet sound of his cock pushing deeper and deeper into you.

When he finally stops moving you swear you can feel him in your gut — the throb of his tip grazing against that sweet spot as he twitches inside you.

"Look at you — taking me so well already." He coos into your ear, fisting the sheet beside your head, his lips grazing over your neck — trying to hold back from moving.

"Too big Channie —" You whimper as you feel him shift, thrusting ever so slightly, the sting blurring with pleasure.

"Shh i know sweetheart — you can take it yeah? Doing so well for Channie." You can barely hear the taunt in his voice, so focused on the full feeling in your gut.

Chan experiments with small shallow thrusts to test it, when you moan into his neck he goes further, pulling out entirely before shoving his cock back into you.

Setting the pace — his cock pistols into you, the moans and incoherent mumbles only fuelling him, your nails dragging on his shoulders.

Every roll of his hips sends you into overdrive, his cock curves right into that sweet gummy spot like he was carved for you. His finger dig into your hip like you're his lifeline — mumbling sweet nothings into your ear.

You can feel your orgasm build deep in your gut — fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you choke out a sob, arching deep into his mean thrusts.

"I know baby — gonna cum for me? That's it good girl — just like that." Chan coos into your ear, his low husky voice sending you over the edge, clenching hard around his cock, squeezing him tight. The wet sound of your release getting fucked back into you echoing through the room.

The feeling of you cumming around his cock was what sent him over the edge — with a low strangled groan he cums — instead of slowing down he keeps thrusting into you — fucking his releasing into you till its smearing down your thighs. Riding out his orgasm his thrusts grow sloppier and shallow before stopping.

As your vision clears all you can see is the outline of Chan's broad shoulders covering over you in the dim room, your heart still racing as you calm down from your orgasm.

Chan leans down capturing your lips in a kiss, making you whine, feeling his cock twitch inside you — already feeling him grow hard again.

"You think we're done here?"

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

🌿 — @emotional-zebra @geni-627 @emmalovesjisung @volcanohan @mvkas @abriefnirvana @velvetmoonlght @channlust @viisstrayy @kloversung @b4echo

"That necklace doesn't exactly match your usual aesthetic," he teased, tilting his head. "Hand it over."

You turned slowly to face him, a smirk curling on your lips beneath your own mask. The city lights painted both of you in shifting hues of blue and pink as you straightened up, rolling your shoulders with feline grace.

"And here I thought you'd finally learned to mind your own business, Spidey," you purred, voice smooth and teasing. "Didn't your mother ever teach you it's rude to crash a girl's private party?"

He chuckled, the sound low and warm even through the mask. "Only when the girl in question keeps stealing things that don't belong to her." He took one graceful step closer, head cocked. "C'mon, Black Cat. Don't make me chase you again. You know how much I enjoy it."

The tension between you crackled like electricity in the night air, familiar, dangerous, and undeniably thrilling.

You let out a soft, mischievous giggle that danced through the night air, the sound light and taunting. You took a few graceful steps backward until the heels of your boots were right at the very edge of the rooftop. The vast city sprawled endlessly behind you, a glittering sea of ​​lights and concrete far below.

With your back to the dizzying drop, you tilted your head, eyes gleaming with playful challenge beneath your mask.

"Catch me, Spidey!" you purred, voice dripping with sweetness.

Then, without hesitation, you let yourself fall.

You tipped backwards off the ledge, arms spread like wings as gravity claimed you. The wind rushed violently past your ears, whipping your hair as you plummeted through the cool night air. For a split second, the world became a thrilling blur of neon and stars.

A heartbeat later, you heard his familiar shout, half exasperated, half exhilarated.

"Seriously!? Again!?"

The wind roared past you as you dropped through the open air. Seconds later, you heard Spider-Man's familiar shout as he dove after you like a crimson bullet.

"Got you-!"

He reached out with both arms, ready to catch you against his chest. At the very last moment, you twisted your body with feline grace, spinning mid-air like a black shadow. His fingers barely brushed your suit before you slipped through his grasp.

You fired your grappling claw towards the opposite building, swinging yourself smoothly onto an open balcony on a lower floor. The landing was silent and perfect.

Spider-Man was left soaring past you, still carried by his momentum through the night sky. He quickly shot a web and swung back around, landing on the railing of the balcony you were standing on.

You turned to face him, mask hiding your smirk. The city lights painted your figure in shades of violet and silver as you gave him the sweetest, most innocent smile.

"Till next time, Spider-Man," you purred softly, voice full of playful promise.

Before he could lunge forward, you blew him a teasing kiss, turned on your heel, and disappeared into the dark hallway of the building like smoke, silent, graceful, and completely untouchable. Just like the black cat you were.

Spider-Man stood frozen on the railing for a moment, staring at the empty space where you had just been. He let out a long, amused sigh and shook his head, a reluctant laugh escaping him.

He was about to swing away when something small and glossy on the floor caught his attention.

A tube of red lipstick.

He raised an eyebrow beneath his mask, a faint, amused smile forming on his lips as he crouched down and picked it up. The lipstick was elegant, sleek black casing with a silver accent. He turned it over in his fingers, still slightly warm.

A soft chuckle escaped him. "Now, that's interesting." he murmured, amused. "I shall hold this thing for you for now, Kitty."

He knew you well enough to understand this wasn't intentional. You were always precise, always in control. The fact that your lipstick had fallen without you realizing it made the discovery feel strangely intimate.

He popped the cap open for a moment, staring at the bold red shade before closing it again. With a small smirk, he tucked the lipstick safely into a hidden pocket on his suit.

He shot a web towards the next building and launched himself back into the night sky, the city lights blurring around him. Even as he swung through Seoul, the faint smile never left his face.

Meanwhile, several buildings away, you moved silently across rooftops, completely unaware that you had left a small trace of yourself behind.

--

"Well, this is new," Jisung drawled, leaning back in his chair with a lazy grin. "Never thought the ever-so-punctual Y/N could be late to class too."

You rolled your eyes and let out a heavy sigh the moment you heard his voice. Of all days, he just had to be your seatmate today. It wasn't that you hated him, really. Far from it-but your morning had already been a disaster, and the last thing you needed was his teasing.

"Don't start," you muttered, dropping into the chair beside him with more force than necessary. You shoved your bag under the desk and ran a hand through your slightly messy hair, still feeling irritated.

Jisung tilted his head, studying your face with open curiosity. His playful smile didn't fade even a little.

"Rough morning?" he asked, voice softer this time, though the teasing glint in his eyes remained.

"Worst," you replied flatly, exhaling through your nose as you slumped forward, resting your chin against your palm on the desk.

Jisung turned in his seat to face you properly, his usual playful expression softening a little.

"I could tell," he said. "You barely wore any makeup today. Woke up late?"

You shook your head.

"I spent the entire morning looking for my favorite lipstick," you grumbled. "The red one I always wear. I swear I left it on my desk last night but I couldn't find it anywhere. Had to leave the house bare-faced because of it."

"Oh, yikes," Jisung said, trying his best to sound genuinely sympathetic. "That sucks. You really like that one, right?"

"Yeah," you sighed, clearly still annoyed. "Now I feel weirdly naked without it."

Jisung leaned his cheek against his hand, watching you with a small, comforting smile

"Well, you still look pretty even without it," he said casually, then quickly added with a teasing grin, "-but I get it. Girl things are important."

You let out a small huff, somewhere between annoyed and amused, and gently bumped his arm with your elbow.

"Shut up."

Just as you were about to reply, the classroom door opened and Professor Kim walked in, looking slightly hurried.

"Morning, class. Let's jump right in," he said, setting his laptop on the desk. "We're starting a major project today. It will count for 35% of your final grade."

He projected the assignment on the screen. The title read: "Innovative Solutions in Environmental Science."

"You'll be working in pairs. The task is to choose a real-world environmental problem, conduct research, design a scientific solution or prototype, and present your findings with supporting data. This includes literature review, methodology, and experimental design."

A wave of murmurs and a few groans filled the room. Professor Kim smiled . "And I've already assigned the pairs randomly."

He began reading from his list. When he reached your name, your stomach dropped slightly.

"Y/N..." he paused, "and Han Jisung."

You slowly turned your head towards Jisung. He was already looking at you with a bright, cheeky grin, clearly entertained by his luck.

"No way," he whispered, leaning closer. You let out a long, tired sigh and dropped your forehead onto the desk.

"How unlucky." you mumbled.

Jisung chuckled softly, nudging your arm playfully.

"Hey, don't sound so heartbroken. I'm actually really good at science, you know," he teased. "Plus, now I have to help you find that missing lipstick. Can't have my project partner in a bad mood the whole time."

You turned your head on the desk to glare at him with one eye. He just smiled wider, looking far too happy about this arrangement.

"Partners?" he asked, holding out his hand.

You stared at his hand for a second before reluctantly giving him a weak high-five.

"...Partners," you groaned.

The weekend arrived wrapped in velvet darkness.You moved like liquid shadow across the rooftops of Seoul's most exclusive district. The cool night wind pressed against your sleek black suit as you slipped in and out of the heavily guarded mansion. Minutes later, the 637-carat diamond necklace rested heavily against your chest, its weight warm and satisfying.You were perched on the edge of a tall glass building when his voice rang out behind you, smooth and teasing.

"Stealing from corrupt politicians now, Kitty? That's bold, even for you."

You turned with a smirk, silver claws glinting under the moonlight. Spider-Man stood on the adjacent rooftop, his red-and-black suit glowing against the neon cityscape, the white spider emblem bold across his chest.

You let out a soft, playful laugh. "What can I say? I have excellent taste," you purred, tilting your head. "Besides, this necklace would look much better decorating my neck than his greasy one. Don't you agree, Spidey?"

He took a graceful step closer, head tilted in amusement.

"I'd say it would look even better in a museum. Or better yet..." His mask lenses narrowed playfully, "in my hand after I catch you."

You grinned beneath your mask and took a few steps back, muscles coiled like a spring.

"Then come and get it," you challenged sweetly. Without another word, you spun and leapt off the building. The chase began. You soared through the night, landing lightly on the next rooftop before immediately jumping again. Spider-Man was right behind you, swinging gracefully from building to building with powerful webs.

"You're getting slower, Kitty!" he called out mid-swing, voice full of teasing affection. "Or maybe you just like it when I chase you?"

You landed on a narrow glass ledge and shot him a sultry look over your shoulder. "Maybe I do," you replied flirtatiously, voice carrying through the wind. "It's cute watching you try so hard to keep up with me."

He laughed—bright and warm—as he swung closer. "Cute? I'll show you cute when I finally catch you and pin you against a wall."

Your laughter rang out like bells as you leapt to the next building, heart racing with thrill. You glanced back at him, eyes sparkling with challenge.

"Promises, promises, Spider-Boy. You've been saying that for months, yet here I am... still one step ahead."

The two of you danced across the Seoul skyline, a dangerous, flirtatious game of cat and spider. Every jump, every swing, every teasing word crackled with electricity between you. But in the middle of a particularly daring leap to a lower rooftop, you miscalculated.

Your hand slipped on the wet concrete edge. A sharp cry escaped your lips as pain tore through your right palm. You landed hard, rolling across the rooftop, warm blood instantly soaking through your glove.You clutched your injured hand to your chest, teeth gritted against the burning pain.

Spider-Man landed a few meters away, concern flashing in his lenses. "Kitty—?!"

Before he could reach you, you forced yourself up and fired your grappling claw, swinging away into the darkness once more. You disappeared between two buildings like a shadow swallowed by night. Even wounded, you still escaped.

--

The image of you—Black Cat— clutching your bleeding hand refused to leave Jisung's mind. All week long, he kept replaying that moment, the sharp cry you tried to hide, the way you still forced yourself to keep running despite the injury. Every night he swung through the city, hoping to catch even a glimpse of you, just to make sure you were okay. But you hadn't appeared again.

Even now, as he stood in front of his closet on Saturday afternoon, Jisung was still distracted.

"Shit..." he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. He had spent the entire week half-present. During lectures, during practice, even while hanging out with the guys, his thoughts kept drifting back to you. The flirty, untouchable Black Cat who always slipped through his fingers. The same girl who got hurt because he had been chasing her too aggressively.

A heavy sigh left his lips as he finally grabbed a simple black hoodie and threw it on. It was only when his phone buzzed with a new message that reality hit him like a truck.

You: Hey, are you still coming over today? It's already 2:30 pm.

Jisung blinked at the screen, eyes widening in panic.

"Fuck. It's already Saturday?" He had completely lost track of time. The project meeting with you had completely slipped his mind. He quickly typed back.

Jisung: Shit sorry!! I'm on my way right now. Give me 15 minutes.

Grabbing his bag and notebook, Jisung rushed out of the dorm, still mentally distracted. Even as he walked toward your apartment, his thoughts kept circling back to Black Cat.

Is her hand okay? Did she patch it up properly? Why the hell do I even care this much...?

He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away as he finally reached your building. He took a deep breath before pressing the doorbell to your unit.When you opened the door, Jisung offered an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Hey... sorry I'm late. I kind of... lost track of time."

You raised an eyebrow, noticing how slightly disheveled he looked. He seemed more distracted than usual.

Jisung stepped inside your apartment, still trying to shake off the fog in his head. He was about to apologize again for being late when his eyes casually swept over you, and then froze. Your right hand was wrapped in a medical cast. His eyebrows furrowed deeply, concern flashing across his face. The playful, distracted expression he wore just seconds ago completely vanished.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked, voice suddenly serious. He took a small step closer, eyes locked on the white cast. "That looks pretty bad... Did you get into an accident?"

You shrugged, trying to play it off casually. "It's nothing serious. I just slipped and fell the other night. Landed on it wrong."

But Jisung wasn't convinced. His gaze lingered on the cast a second longer, and suddenly, his mind violently flashed back to that night.

Black Cat.

The way she had cried out in pain mid-jump. The way she clutched her right hand to her chest before disappearing into the shadows. The blood he had seen glistening under the moonlight.

His stomach twisted.

No... It can't be.

That's when Jisung remembered something. He dropped his bag on the floor beside the couch and crouched down to rummage through it.

"Is this yours?" he asked, pulling out a familiar sleek black tube with silver accents and held it up.

Your eyes widened the second you saw it. Without thinking, you lunged forward and snatched the lipstick out of his hand in a panic, clutching it tightly against your chest.

"Where did you get this?!" you asked sharply, voice a little too high.

Jisung blinked at your sudden reaction, slightly taken aback. "I found it on the floor in the hallway outside the lecture hall last week,"

You stared at him, heart hammering wildly in your chest. Your fingers tightened around the lipstick like it was a lifeline. For a split second, a wave of paranoia washed over you. Did he know? Could he possibly suspect anything?

Jisung tilted his head, watching your reaction with curious eyes. He noticed how tense you suddenly became, how tightly you were gripping the lipstick.

And then... the pieces started clicking together in his mind. The right hand injury, exactly where Black Cat had hurt herself that night. The same red lipstick he had picked up after she disappeared. The way you just panicked the moment he showed it to you.

No way...

He tried to push the thought away, but it kept growing louder. Jisung felt his heartbeat pick up. "You okay?" Jisung asked, forcing his voice to stay light even though his mind was spiraling. "You look really pale all of a sudden."

You quickly slipped the lipstick into your pocket and tried to act normal. "Yeah... I'm fine. Just surprised you found it. Thanks."

Jisung smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time. His gaze lingered on your cast once more.

"Then I guess I'm glad I kept it for you."

-- 

The next few weeks blurred into a tense routine. On weekdays, you and Jisung met at the library to finish the remaining sections of their research paper, the deadline now looming just a month away. The quiet corner they had once claimed felt smaller each time, the air thicker with everything unsaid.

Conversations stayed painfully polite—short exchanges about citations, methodology, and formatting. Every sentence was measured. Every glance carefully guarded. You both walked on eggshells, hyper-aware that a single slip, a careless word, or an unguarded expression could unravel the fragile secrets you'd both been hiding for so long.

Yet the nights told a different story.

Jisung's suspicions had grown into a storm he could no longer ignore. Every weekend, after parting ways with Black Cat beneath the city lights, he would see you the next morning bearing fresh marks of the battles they had fought together.

A vicious slash across Black Cat's cheek became a thin band-aid on your face by Monday morning. A deliberate trip in a narrow alley—one he had staged to test his theory—left you limping into the library the following day, your steps stiff and uneven. Each minor injury he inflicted on Black Cat, even though guilt twisted in his chest every time, appeared on your body like an undeniable signature.

He hated himself for it. But the evidence kept piling up, too consistent to be coincidence. The way you winced when you reached for a book. The fresh bruise on your wrist that matched the one he'd left on Black Cat's. The way your eyes would flicker with quiet panic whenever his gaze lingered too long on your injuries.

The more he tested the connection, the more certain he became.

Jisung made up his mind. Tonight, everything would end, one way or another. He knew about the ruby. He had overheard you muttering about it during one of your late-night rooftop conversations as Black Cat. The legendary Crimson Heart, a blood-red gem recently "donated" by a reclusive billionaire to the City Museum of Antiquities. The official story was polished and perfect. You both knew better. The ruby was stolen, another glittering piece of corruption hidden behind glass and security lasers.

He didn't plan to stop the heist. He planned to confront you in the middle of it. As Spiderman, he swung through the rain-slicked streets, heart pounding harder than it had in months. The cool night air did nothing to calm the storm inside him. Part of him still desperately hoped he was wrong. That the girl who sat beside him during classes, the one who never backed down when it comes to bickering with him wasn't the same person who danced across rooftops with him as Black Cat. That the consequences hadn't bound their fates together in such a cruel, intimate way. But deep down, he already knew.

"I knew you'd be here."

Your head snapped toward the voice, heart jolting in your chest. There he stood—Spiderman—perched at the far edge of the opposite rooftop, silhouetted against the glittering city skyline. The red and blue of his suit caught the moonlight, making him look almost unreal.

"Spidey," you mused, a playful lilt curving your lips beneath the mask. You tilted your head, letting the teasing tone drip like honey. "You're always where I am. At this rate, I might start thinking you've already fallen for me."

A low chuckle rumbled from Spiderman's chest, the sound surprisingly soft against the steady patter of rain. With a graceful flick of his wrist, he swung forward, landing just a few steps closer on the same rooftop.

Your body tensed instantly, every instinct screaming at you to stay alert.

"Hm?" He tilted his head, voice laced with something unreadable. "Why are you stepping away from me?" He took another slow step forward, rain sliding down the sleek surface of his suit like liquid shadows. "Don't tell me you're suddenly afraid of me."

Your stomach dropped. You forced out a soft, disbelieving laugh, trying to cling to your usual playful confidence. "Me? Afraid of you?" You took another careful step back, the edge of the rooftop now much closer than you liked. "Oh, Spidey..."

But every time he moved forward, you mirrored him with a step back. Your heart hammered wildly against your ribs, loud enough that you wondered if he could hear it through the rain. A nervous gulp betrayed you as your fingers twitched, ready to summon your claws at any moment.

"Y/N."

Your breath hitched sharply, the sound catching in your throat like a blade. The world seemed to tilt for a second. He had said your name with quiet certainty, as if it belonged on his tongue.

He knows. He fucking knows who you are. Ice-cold panic flooded your veins. How? When? Who the hell was he beneath that mask?

You forced a breathless, disbelieving laugh, taking another instinctive step back. "Who are you calling Y/N?" Your voice came out sharper than intended, laced with defensive edge. "You've got the wrong person, Spiderman."

"I wouldn't say a name if I wasn't confident about who you are. I know you're exactly who I think you are."

You pressed your lips together, your grip tightening around the jewel hidden behind your back. A nervous laugh almost escaped you, but you swallowed it down.

"I think all this chasing has been giving you the wrong idea," you said, shaking your head lightly. "I'm sorry, but I think we should end this here. This—"

The rest of your sentence got stuck in your throat.

A rustling sound came from him. At first, you thought he was simply shifting his weight, but then your eyes caught the movement of his hands rising toward his mask. Your brows furrowed in confusion. For a second, you could only stare as his fingers hooked beneath the fabric.

Wait. What was he doing?

Your heart skipped a beat. Slowly, he pulled the mask away from his face. The moment the fabric fell, your entire body went still.

Brown eyes met yours. Warm, familiar brown eyes. Your breath caught as your mind scrambled to make sense of what you were seeing. The face in front of you was one you knew. One you had seen countless times before. Without his usual glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, he looked different enough to throw you off for a second, but not different enough to hide who he was.

Han Jisung.

The name echoed in your head as you stared at him, unable to look away. Out of everyone, every single person, you could have expected to find beneath that mask, Han Jisung had never once crossed your mind.

"Jisung..." you breathed, the name slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Of course he heard. He was Spiderman, after all.

The moment his eyes met yours, panic surged through your chest. "I'm sorry—I need to go."

You didn't give him a chance to respond. Before he could say anything, you turned and leaped away, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible. The wind rushed past your ears, but it did little to quiet the frantic thoughts racing through your head.

Han Jisung was Spiderman.

No matter how many times you repeated it to yourself, it still didn't feel real. Your heart wouldn't stop pounding, a mixture of shock and nervousness making it difficult to think straight. How were you supposed to face him now? How were you supposed to sit beside from him, talk to him, and pretend everything was normal after learning something like this?

The more you thought about it, the more your head spun.

The person you had spent months pining after, wondering about, chasing after without even realizing it, turned out to be someone who had been right beside you the entire time. Someone you laughed with, talked to, and saw almost every day.

You landed on a quiet rooftop far away from the city's glowing center and pulled your mask off, breathing hard. Your hands were trembling. It should have made things easier. Instead, it only made everything more complicated.

You couldn't wrap your head around it. Every conversation you'd ever had with him suddenly felt different, taking on a meaning you hadn't noticed before. Moments you once brushed off kept replaying in your mind, making you wonder how you had missed something so obvious.

That revelation alone was enough to keep you awake for nights, staring at your ceiling while the same thought circled endlessly through your mind.

The following weeks became a careful game of avoidance. Whenever Jisung tried to approach you after class, you'd suddenly remember something you forgot and rush off in the opposite direction.

Thankfully, the two of you had worked so efficiently that you finished most of the project ahead of schedule. There was no real reason for the two of you to meet anymore. That made avoiding him easier.

But Jisung was nothing if not persistent. He was determined. The questions in his head had grown too loud to ignore. He needed to hear the truth from your mouth. He needed to know if the girl he sat next to every week, the one who rolled her eyes at his jokes and snatched her lipstick in panic, was really the same person who made his heart race every night on the rooftops.

So on Thursday evening, without warning, he stood in front of your dorm room. He took a deep breath and knocked.

You were lounging on the couch in oversized clothes, hair messy, scrolling through your phone when the knock came. Thinking it was your roommate's boyfriend (who always came over unannounced), you didn't even bother checking.

"Coming!" you called out lazily.

You opened the door without a second thought. And froze.

Jisung stood there, hands in his hoodie pocket, looking unusually serious. His eyes met yours with an intensity that made your stomach drop.

Without thinking, you moved to slam the door shut. But Jisung was faster. His arm shot out with surprising speed and strength, his palm slapping against the door just before it could close. The impact made the wood rattle. You pushed harder, but it barely budged, his arm was unyielding, muscles tense under his sleeve.

"Wait—" His voice was firm, but not aggressive. "Don't close the door. Please."

You stared at him, breathing heavily painfully aware of how close you two are now, only inches away from yours. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the mixture of confusion, determination, and something softer.

"I'm not leaving until we talk," he said quietly, still holding the door open with surprising ease. "You've been avoiding me all week. Running away every time I try to get close to you. Just like how she always run away from me."

You chewed on your  lower lip. Your eyebrows furrowing, whispering to yourself and praying to all the Gods and Goddesses you know that he should not asked that question.

"Is it you, Y/n? You're Black Cat, aren't you?"

With a sharp, frustrated exhale, you grabbed the front of his hoodie with your uninjured hand and yanked him inside the dorm before anyone could see him. Jisung stumbled slightly but didn't resist as you pulled him straight through the living room and into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you with a firm click.

The moment the door closed, you let go of him and took a step back, breathing heavily. The cast on your right hand suddenly felt like a glaring beacon between you two.

"What do you even want from me?" you snapped, voice sharper than you intended. "If you're looking for all the jewels I've stolen, none of them are here. I don't keep that stuff. I don't know what else you want me to say."

You took a shaky breath, eyes burning with a volatile mix of defiance and vulnerability as you glared at him.

"Sure, I'm Black Cat. And what about it?" Your voice cracked slightly. "Are you here to arrest me?"

Jisung stood near the center of your room, looking strangely out of place among your things. His eyes slowly drifted across your space. The neatly organized desk, the black hoodie hanging on the back of your chair, the faint scent of your perfume lingering in the air, before finally settling back on you.

He didn't speak right away.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and electric. You could see the storm of emotions behind his eyes. Shock, confusion, something else.

"I'm not here to arrest you," he said finally, his voice low and steady. "I'm not here as Spiderman right now."

He took one careful step closer, then stopped when he saw you tense up. "I just..." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I've spent the last week losing my mind trying to connect the dots. The injury on your hand, the lipstick, the way you move, the way you talk when we're on the rooftops... And then I realized it was you. The girl who sits next to me in class. The girl who rolls her eyes at my stupid jokes but still smiles when she thinks I'm not looking." Jisung's voice softened, almost pained.

"So yeah... I know you're Black Cat. But I'm not here to take you in or demand answers about what you've stolen." He looked straight into your eyes, vulnerable in a way you'd never seen from him before, not as Jisung, and certainly not as Spiderman.

"I'm here because I can't stop thinking about you. The real you. Both versions of you."

He swallowed hard, voice dropping to a near whisper. "So tell me... was any of it real? The flirting? The tension? Or was I just some game to you?" The air in your room felt impossibly thick as you stood there, back pressed against the door, heart racing wildly in your chest.

"Don't tell me you've seriously fallen for my other persona?" you said, forcing your voice to stay firm even as your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. "You must be losing your head if that's the case."

You tried to sound cold. Detached. You needed him to believe that this—whatever this was—could never work. You were a thief who lived in the shadows. He was a hero who protected the light. Nothing good ever came from crossing that line. You knew that better than anyone.

But Jisung didn't back away. Instead, he took a slow step closer, until your faces were only inches apart. His hand rose, pressing against the door beside your head, effectively caging you in without touching you. His warm breath brushed against your lips as he spoke.

"And if I do?" he breathed, the question hanging heavy between you. His eyes, dark, intense, and unwavering, searched yours desperately, looking for even the smallest crack in your armor. The playful, easygoing Jisung you knew from class was gone. In his place was someone raw, honest, and completely unguarded.

"If I told you I've fallen for both versions of you..." he continued, voice low and rough, "the girl who I argue most of the time, and the girl who makes my heart race every time she runs across rooftops... what of it then?"

Your back was pressed firmly against the door. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. His gaze never left yours, not even for a second, as if he was afraid you'd disappear the moment he blinked.

You opened your mouth to protest, heart racing wildly.

"Jisung, we can't— this isn't—"

But he didn't let you finish. Before the words could fully leave your lips, Jisung closed the remaining distance and captured your mouth with his. The kiss was sudden, urgent, and breathtaking. Like he had been holding back for far too long.

Your eyes widened in shock. Your hands instinctively rose to push against his chest, wanting to pull away, knowing this was dangerous, knowing you shouldn't let this happen. But the moment his warm, soft lips moved against yours, all your resolve crumbled. A quiet, helpless sound escaped your throat as your body betrayed you. Your clenched fists slowly loosened, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie instead of pushing him away. The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself melting into it, knees weakening under the intensity.

Jisung's hand slid from the door to gently cup the side of your face, tilting your head as he kissed you harder, pouring months of hidden tension, frustration, and longing into every movement. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

You knew you should stop this. But God... his lips felt like heaven. The way he kissed you, desperate, tender, and hungry all at once made your mind go blissfully blank. A warm shiver ran down your spine as you finally gave in completely, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Your left hand rested gently against his chest while your other hand slid up to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. A soft sigh slipped into his mouth as you surrendered to the feeling.

Jisung let out a low, shaky breath against your lips, like he couldn't believe this was really happening.

You barely had time to catch your breath. Jisung's hands slid down to the back of your thighs, gripping them firmly. With surprising strength, he lifted you up effortlessly. A startled gasp escaped your lips as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. He didn't hesitate. His mouth found yours again in a hungry, heated kiss as he carried you across the room.

Your fingers tangled deeper into his hair, kissing him back with just as much desperation. Every step he took sent sparks through your body. The feeling of being held so securely in his arms while his lips moved against yours made your head spin.

Jisung reached the edge of your bed and sat down, keeping you wrapped around him. He pulled you closer until you were straddling his lap, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his thighs. His hands stayed firmly on the back of your thighs, holding you flush against him.

He broke the kiss for just a second, breathing heavily against your lips, eyes dark with want.

"Tell me to stop..." he whispered, voice rough and low, "and I will."

But you didn't tell him to stop. Instead, you leaned in again, capturing his lips in a deeper, slower kiss. Jisung groaned softly into your mouth, one hand sliding up your back while the other stayed gripping your thigh, pulling you even closer. The warmth of his body, the way his chest rose and fell against yours, and the undeniable hardness growing beneath you made heat pool low in your stomach.

You rocked your hips slightly without thinking, drawing another quiet groan from him. His fingers flexed against your skin as he kissed you harder, tongues brushing, breaths mingling. Jisung pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes half-lidded as he looked at you with pure reverence and desire.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he murmured, voice husky. "How long I've wanted you."

Jisung's hands tightened on your thighs as he pulled you even closer on his lap. The kiss grew deeper, slower, heavier. No longer just desire, but months of unspoken longing finally breaking free.

"Can I?" he softly asked, as he try to lift your shirt up. Your eyes fluttering shut trying to look at him, and when you nodded your head giving him the permission he needed, he stopped hesitating.

He pulled your shirt over your head in one smooth motion, lips immediately attaching to your neck, sucking and kissing down your collarbone as his hands explored your bare skin. You moaned softly, arching into him. The feeling of his warm palms sliding up your back, unclasping your bra, and cupping your breasts made you shiver.

You tugged his hoodie and shirt off together, finally feeling his bare chest against yours. The heat of his skin, the firmness of his muscles, the way his heart pounded wildly under your palm, it was intoxicating.

Jisung flipped you gently onto your back, hovering over you as he kissed down your body with reverence. Every touch felt like worship. He took his time, lips brushing over your breasts, tongue circling your nipples until you were whimpering, hands gripping his hair. Lower and lower he went, until he was between your thighs, pulling your pants and underwear down in one go.

When his mouth found your core, you cried out, back arching off the bed. He groaned against you, the vibration sending sparks through your body. He ate you out like a man starved, slow, deep, and devoted. Like he had dreamed of tasting you for months.

"Jisung— fuck—" you moaned, thighs trembling around his head.

He didn't stop until you came hard on his tongue, gasping his name like a prayer.

Only then did he crawl back up, kissing you deeply so you could taste yourself on his lips. You reached down, palming him through his pants before pushing them down. When you finally wrapped your hand around his hard, throbbing cock, Jisung let out a broken groan, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

"Baby... I need you," he whispered, voice shaking with restraint.

Jisung pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, breathing ragged. His hand gently caressed your thigh as he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, voice hoarse with need.

You answered by pulling him into a deep kiss. He pushed in slowly. A broken moan slipped from both of you as he stretched you open, inch by inch. Jisung's eyes fluttered shut, forehead pressed against yours as he sank deeper.

"Fuck... you're so tight," he breathed shakily, voice trembling with restraint.

You gasped softly at the fullness, your walls fluttering around his thick length. He kept going until he was buried to the hilt, hips flush against yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, just feeling each other completely.

The stretch was perfect. The warmth. The way he throbbed inside you.

Jisung let out a soft, broken moan against your neck, his fingers digging gently into your hip. "You feel... so fucking good. I've been dreamed about this."

When he started moving, it was slow, deep rolls of his hips. Every thrust was deliberate, dragging against that perfect spot inside you. Soft, breathy moans filled the room as your bodies rocked together.

"Ah— Jisung..." you whimpered, legs tightening around his waist.

He groaned lowly, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Fuck, say my name again."

"Jisung..."

He kissed you deeply as he picked up the pace just slightly, still making love to you rather than fucking you. Every thrust was long and sensual, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, savoring the way your walls clenched around him.

You moaned softly in his mouth as a response, your hands sliding up his back, feeling the muscles shift under your fingers with every movement. The slow, steady rhythm made the pleasure build gradually, warmly, spreading through your entire body.

He angled his hips a little differently, and a sweeter, higher sound slipped from your lips. Jisung groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your throat as he kept that same perfect pace, thrusting deeper but never faster.

Neither of you spoke much, just soft gasps, quiet moans, and whispered names. You could feel every inch of him sliding in and out, the way he throbbed inside you, the slight tremble in his arms as he held himself back. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core, warm and heavy.

"I'm close..." you breathed, nails lightly pressing into his back.

"Me too," he whispered, voice strained. "Let go, baby."

A few more deep, smooth thrusts and you came with a soft, broken moan, clenching tightly around him. Jisung followed right after, burying himself deep as he groaned lowly against your neck, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you.

Both of you trembled, breathing heavily in sync. Jisung stayed buried inside you for a long moment, placing lazy, gentle kisses along your shoulder and collarbone as you both came down from the high.

Silence settled over the room. The only sounds were your slowing breaths and the faint hum of the city outside your window. Neither of you spoke right away. The weight of everything that had just happened slowly sank in. Your body was still buzzing with pleasure, your skin flushed and sensitive, while a deep, warm emotion bloomed in your chest.

Jisung's fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare back. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, steady but a little faster than normal. After a few minutes, he finally shatters the silence.

"...What does this make us?" he asked softly, his voice low and a little uncertain. His hand paused on your waist as he waited for your answer.

You lifted your head from his chest and looked at him. His eyes were warm, vulnerable, and full of quiet hope. For a moment, you just stared at him—this boy who was both your annoying seatmate and the hero who had chased you and made you feel so many emotions.

You let out a small breath, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "If you're okay dating someone like me... a thief," you said quietly, "then I guess we're dating?"

Jisung's eyes softened. A slow, genuine smile spread across his face as he pulled you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You lay quietly in Jisung's arms, your head resting on his chest as his fingers gently stroked up and down your back. The silence between you was comfortable now, warm and full of unspoken feelings.

After a while, Jisung spoke again, his voice soft against the top of your head.

"You know you're not just a thief, right?" When you lifted your head again slightly to look at him. He was already watching you, eyes gentle and sincere.

"One of the main reasons I never tried too hard to stop you from stealing those jewels... is because I know where they're going," he continued quietly. "Your methods might not be justified in everyone's eyes, but you're a hero too, Y/N. In your own way."

That acknowledgement hit you deeper than you expected. Your heart fluttered strongly in your chest, warmth spreading through your entire body. For so long, you had carried the weight of being the bad guy, the thief, the villain in someone else's story.

But hearing it from him—from Spiderman—made something inside you shift. You buried your face back into his chest, hiding the shy, emotional smile threatening to break out. Jisung chuckled softly and tightened his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair.

"Maybe... just maybe," you whispered against his skin, "falling for Spiderman wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

Jisung smiled, a bright, heart-shaped grin you could feel even without looking. "Good," he murmured, voice full of affection. "Because you're stuck with me now, Kitty."

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LEE LEEKNOW MINHO

Minho is a teasing sadist even when he’s losing control. He has you on all fours, one hand fisted in your hair as he fucks you hard from behind. Every deep thrust makes him groan, and instead of letting the sounds out freely, he leans down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder blade.

The bite is sharp and deliberate, meant to muffle his pretty moans. “Quiet… or I’ll bite harder,” he whispers, voice sweet but threatening, right before his teeth dig in again. He loves the way you whimper when he bites, the way your pussy clenches around him. He alternates between soft, teasing nips and hard, possessive bites that leave clear teeth marks.

He’ll bite the back of your neck, your shoulder, even the curve of your waist if he can reach it. Each bite is accompanied by a low, muffled groan that vibrates against your skin. When he’s close, his rhythm becomes punishing and his bites turn almost feral. He cums with his teeth sunk deep into your shoulder, groaning loudly into your skin as he fills you. Afterwards, he licks the bite marks almost apologetically while calling you his pretty kitten.

SEO CHANGBIN

Changbin is loud, intense, and completely unable to stay quiet when he’s lost in you. He has you bent over the edge of the bed in a deep doggy-style position, his powerful body completely covering yours from behind. His thick, muscular thighs slap against the back of yours with every brutal thrust, the sound wet and obscene in the room.

Every time his fat cock slams deep into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your toes curl, a deep, guttural groan builds in his chest. He tries to hold it back, but he can’t. Instead, he leans forward, pressing his broad, sweaty chest against your back, and sinks his teeth hard into your shoulder. The bite is strong and possessive, his jaw clenching as he muffles a loud, animalistic moan against your skin.

“Fuck— baby, you’re so tight,” he growls, voice deep and rough, the words vibrating through his teeth into your flesh. His massive hands grip your snatchable waist tightly, fingers digging deep into your soft skin as he uses your body like a handle to pull you back onto his thick cock. The contrast is overwhelming. His huge, muscular frame against your smaller one, his teeth sunk into your shoulder while he pounds you mercilessly.

The position lets him hit even deeper, and his muffled moans become louder, more broken. He growls into your skin, teeth clenched tight as his hips stutter. He cums with a loud, deep, muffled roar, sinking his teeth hard into your shoulder as thick ropes of cum flood deep inside you. His whole body shakes against yours, muscles flexing as he holds you in place, refusing to let go until he’s completely emptied himself.

HWANG HYUNJIN

Hyunjin turns even something as raw as biting into something almost poetic. He has you riding him slowly, his back against the headboard, hands gripping your hips as you sink down onto his cock. His head falls back at first, long hair messy, lips parted in pleasure. But as the intensity builds and his thrusts become deeper, needy moans start slipping out.

He suddenly leans forward, burying his face in the curve of your neck and shoulder. His teeth graze your skin teasingly at first, then sink in with a low, breathy groan that vibrates against you. “You feel too good… I can’t stay quiet,” he whispers hotly before biting harder, teeth pressing into your soft flesh as he snaps his hips up sharply.

The bite is firm but graceful enough to leave a clear imprint, but never truly painful. He loves the way your body jolts when he bites, the way your pussy clenches around him in response. His long fingers dig into your waist as he uses your body to bounce you harder on his cock. Every deep thrust is paired with a new bite. On your collarbone, the top of your breast, the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

Then he'd moans against your skin, teeth grazing before sinking in again. His voice is breathy and beautiful, even when muffled. As he gets closer, his bites become more desperate, almost frantic. He holds you down on his cock with one hand on your waist while his mouth stays latched onto your shoulder, moaning loudly into your skin as he cums deep inside you. Afterward, he gently kisses and licks every bite mark, admiring how pretty they look on your skin while whispering how perfect you are.

HAN JISUNG

Jisung is loud, desperate, and completely unable to stay quiet when he’s inside you. He has you in missionary, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks you hard and fast. His face is buried in your neck, hot breath fanning against your skin with every thrust.

Every time his cock hits that perfect spot deep inside you, a loud, broken moan tries to escape him. He solves it by sinking his teeth into your shoulder, muffling the sound against your skin. “Fuck— baby, you feel so good I can’t—,” he whimpers before biting down harder, teeth digging in as his hips snap forward desperately.

His bites are messy and needy, lots of small, overlapping marks all over your shoulders, neck, and collarbone. He can’t control himself. The harder he pounds into you, the harder he bites, using your body to muffle his loud, whiny moans. “I’m sorry— you’re too tight,” he whines pathetically against your skin, teeth still latched on.

When he gets close, his thrusts turn frantic and sloppy. He buries his face completely in your neck and bites down hard on your shoulder as he cums, moaning loudly into your flesh while filling you up. His whole body shakes against you. Even after he finishes, he keeps his teeth gently pressed against your skin for a few seconds, breathing heavily, before he starts kissing and licking the marks apologetically.

LEE FELIX YONGBOK

Felix’s deep voice makes his muffled moans incredibly sexy. He has you in missionary, body pressed close to yours as he fucks you with slow, deep rolls of his hips. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin.

Every time he bottoms out, a low, rumbling groan builds in his chest. He muffles it by sinking his teeth into your shoulder, the vibration of his deep voice traveling straight through the bite. “You feel so fucking good, angel,” he groans against your skin before biting harder, teeth pressing firmly into your flesh as he grinds deep.

His bites are sensual and possessive. He loves leaving a trail of marks across your shoulders and chest. The combination of his deep voice, his teeth on your skin, and his thick cock stretching you open is overwhelming. He’ll switch between soft, teasing nips and harder bites that make you gasp. “Can’t stay quiet when you’re this tight around me,” he moans, voice beautifully low even when muffled.

When he’s close, his thrusts become deeper and more intense. He holds you tightly and bites down on your neck as he cums, groaning deeply into your skin while filling you up. The feeling of his teeth and his low, vibrating moans pushes you over the edge with him. Afterward, he gently kisses every bite mark, his deep voice soft and loving as he tells you how perfect you felt.

KIM SEUNGMIN

Seungmin tries to stay composed, but you feel too good for him to stay quiet. He has you pinned beneath him, fucking you with sharp, precise thrusts. His face is in your neck, and every time a moan threatens to slip out, he bites down on your shoulder.

The bite is firm and teasing. “Can’t even stay quiet for me?” he mocks softly against your skin before sinking his teeth in again. His bites are tender, never too painful, but hard enough to leave clear marks and make you whimper. He loves the way you clench around him when he bites. “Pathetic… getting wetter every time I bite you.”

He keeps one hand in your hair, pulling your head to the side so he has better access to your neck and shoulder. His thrusts are relentless, each one paired with a new bite. When he’s close, he bites down harder, muffling his rare but beautiful moans as he cums deep inside you. And even that bite couldn't hide how desperate his moans are spilling ending up with his whole body rigid. Afterwards, when you tried to open it up with he'll act as if that thing never happened.

YANG JEONGIN

Jeongin gets surprisingly possessive and eager when pleasure overwhelms him. He has you in doggy style or spooning, body pressed close as he fucks you hard. His face is buried in the back of your neck or shoulder, breathing heavily.

Every deep thrust makes him moan, so he solves it by biting down on your shoulder. “Noona… you feel too good,” he groans before sinking his teeth in, trying to muffle the sound. His bites start a little shy but quickly become more confident and possessive. He loves leaving marks on you, clear evidence that he was there.

As he gets more lost in pleasure, his bites become harder and more frequent. He grips your waist tightly with one hand while biting your shoulder, using your body to pull you back onto his cock. “I can’t stop… you’re too tight,” he whimpers against your skin, teeth still latched on. When he cums, he bites down firmly on your shoulder, groaning into your flesh as he fills you up, making up pull his head up just so he could gasp the pleasure out. Afterward, he becomes very soft and clingy, kissing the bite marks gently while asking if he was too rough.

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