skye!

“A little bit of all three,” you admitted, rubbing your temples. “But I hate thinking people only see me as his partner. Like I wouldn’t matter if I wasn’t there with him. Or worse—if he gets hurt, it’ll somehow be my fault because I wasn’t there.”

You buried your face in your hands, overthinking a simple, stupid news report.

“Hey, hey,” Haechan crawled closer, gently pulling your hands away. His lips pressed to your palms, warm and grounding. “You’re more than enough. Spider-Man can’t do half of what you can. Do you really think you’d have as many fan clubs as you do if people didn’t see you as a hero? Do you think they’d chase you down for pictures, beg for autographs, or fake risky situations just to be saved by you if you weren’t loved?”

His voice softened, eyes locked onto yours—deep, endless, filled with stars. “And for the record? I follow all of them. The big ones, the small ones. Even the ones that just popped up yesterday.”

A smile finally tugged at your lips. “You’re Silk’s biggest fan, huh?”

“I’m your biggest fan.” he puffed his chest out proudly. “And no Jun or Yizhuo can take that title from me.”

Laughing, you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you, Chan… I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

He held you tighter, voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, my dear Sweets… I’m the lucky one.”

Yizhuo sat frozen, fingers curled so tightly around her phone that her knuckles turned white.

Not because of Jisung. He and his new girlfriend could fuck off for all she cared.

But because of you. And because of the friends she had been shutting out, the ones who had stood by her when she couldn’t even stand herself.

Her finger hovered over the screen, inches away from unblocking him.

But she hesitated. Was it worth it? After everything she heard? After everything he had done?

She thought back to the moment she still had hope.

The day she wrote the letter.

It wasn’t something she would normally do, but Ningning wasn’t brave enough to say the words out loud. Not yet. So she wrote it all down—every bottled-up emotion, every lingering thought, every little thing she had been too scared to confess.

Then, heart pounding in her chest, she had slipped the light pink envelope into Jisung’s locker.

And she waited.

For hours, she stole glances at him in class, at lunch, in the hallways—hoping for something. A smile. A glance in her direction. Anything.

Then she found him.

In an empty classroom, talking to Chenle, spinning his phone between his fingers like none of it mattered.

“You won’t believe what I found in my locker earlier,” Jisung started, bothered.

Chenle barely looked up. “Yeah, I’m not interested.”

Jisung let out an unamused sigh but continued anyway. “A love letter. From Ningning.”

At that, Chenle finally turned to him. “From Ningning?” his brows furrowed. He had never heard her talk about Jisung that way. But… maybe that was the point. Maybe she had kept it a secret for a reason. “So? Did you read it? Did you like it?”

Yizhuo held her breath. A flicker of hope, fragile and desperate, bloomed in her chest.

Jisung scoffed. “Yeah, I read it. Then I tore it up and threw it in the trash.”

A sharp gasp caught in her throat.

Chenle froze, disbelief flashing across his face. “You did what?”

“She won’t know anyway.” Jisung shrugged, his tone laced with discomfort. “I don’t like her, Chenle. She’s just…” He paused, searching for the right words before chuckling uncomfortably. “How do I say this nicely? She’s unattractive. Boring. A little girl—”

“She’s your age, Jisung.” Chenle’s voice turned sharp, cutting through the air like a knife. “And she’s way more mature than you’ll ever be. If this gets back to her… if Mark or Haechan, or worse, Y/N hears about this? You’re screwed.”

But Ningning was already gone, sprinting through the hallways, tears burning hot trails down her cheeks.

She barely registered anything until she slammed into someone—Haechan.

“Whoa—Ning? What happened?” his voice was gentle, concerned.

But she couldn’t answer. She could only clutch onto him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

And Haechan, without a word, wrapped his arms around her and let her break.

That was the moment something inside her shattered.

That was the moment she told herself she would change.

She had convinced herself to move on—to prove him wrong, to make him regret ever underestimating her. And maybe accept her.

She changed her habits, her style. She learned hacking just because it was his passion, just to have something—anything—in common.

But none of it mattered. Because when she finally gathered the courage to stand before him, to say the words out loud instead of hiding behind a letter—

Jisung had barely even blinked.

“So…? What’s so important that you couldn’t even wait for the classes to end?” he chuckled, adjusting his backpack.

For a second, she almost forgot his past words. The way he had ripped her apart without even knowing she was listening.

“It’s just…” she hesitated. But his curious expression made her push forward. She had come this far. “Promise me you’ll let me say everything first. Then you can talk.”

Jisung shrugged. “Alright.”

She exhaled, fingers tightening around the hem of her skirt. “I’ve done this before. Through a letter. But you didn’t seem to like that very much. So here I am, saying it to your face.” she took a shaky breath. “Jisung, I like you. I’ve liked you for months. And no one knows, because I wanted to be sure. I wanted to know if I was just going crazy, if this was temporary. But it’s not.”

She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bear to see the look in his eyes.

She didn’t notice his regret in agreeing to this conversation.

“A few months ago… when I left that letter, I overheard you and Chenle talking about it.” she swallowed the lump in her throat. “You said I wasn’t attractive because I looked like a little girl. So I changed my style. You said I wasn’t interesting, so I learned some of your interests. You like spending time with Y/N so I thought that now that we have some things in common, maybe you could also like spending some with me and...” she forced herself to meet his gaze, even as her voice cracked. “Do you… do you like me now?”

Silence.

Jisung hesitated.

For a split second, she thought maybe—just maybe—he would say something different.

But then he spoke.

“No, Yizhuo.” his voice was final. Cold. “I don’t like you now. And I never will.”

The breath left her lungs.

“I thought you had gotten over it already.” he ran a hand down his face, frustration creeping into his tone. “I didn’t even notice your style change. I still don’t find you attractive.”

She felt something inside her crack.

“You’re like a little sister to me,” he continued mercilessly. “I get that we’re the same age, but the way the guys treat you… it made me feel the same. But you got it wrong.” a humourless chuckle escaped him. “I like spending time with Y/N because she’s the older sister I never had. We share more than just interests. That’s why.”

Then, he took a step back, the distance between them growing impossibly wide.

“And I think you should stay away from me now.”

Her chest tightened.

“I don’t want you, Yizhuo.”

He turned away.

“I just want you to leave me alone.”

And then, just like that—he was gone.

Leaving her standing there, heart in ruins for the second time.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, soaking into her shirt. How could she let someone have this much control over her happiness? How could she let a boy who never even cared wreck her like this?

Something inside her shifted.

She wiped her tears, pulled out her phone.

And as she stared at Jisung’s chat, her hands trembled—not with sadness, but with anger.

This time, she wasn’t going to beg.

This time, she wasn’t going to let him reduce her to nothing.

This time, she didn’t give a fuck about his feelings.

Not that he had ever cared about hers.

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★ the energy went down so i brought myself into finishing the chapter hehehe

She only giggled, voice still laced with sleep. "Relax, baby. Yours has me addicted too."

You groaned, exasperated but amused, as she shifted in your arms. "I just wanted a peaceful, cute morning with my girlfriend, but she wakes up like this. How can I?"

Giselle pouted, batting her lashes at you with an innocent smile. "Don’t do that," you warned.

"Or what?" she challenged, and before you could answer, she was already straddling your waist, her bare skin pressing against yours. A mischievous glint shone in her half-lidded eyes as she leaned in, voice dropping into a sultry whisper. "I was dreaming of you, you know?"

You smirked, hands instinctively finding her thighs. "Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell me more?" Your voice was barely above a breath, already affected by the way her body moved against yours.

She didn’t answer—not with words. Instead, her hips began rolling against you, slow and teasing, her movements betraying the impatience she tried to mask. Whatever she had been dreaming about, it had left her needy, desperate. And the realization alone sent heat pooling in your core.

"You really don’t leave me alone," she murmured, her lips ghosting over yours. "Not even in my sleep."

The thought made your stomach flutter. You owned her, just as much as she owned you.

She bit your lower lip, tugging playfully before moving lower. You barely had time to process before she was slipping between your legs, her breath hot against your inner thighs.

You instinctively parted for her, your need just as evident as hers.

"I guess someone is just as eager as me…" she mused, pressing a lingering kiss to your clit. The contact alone made you shudder.

"Can’t help it," you admitted, fingers threading through her pink strands. "Not when you were grinding against me like you were in heat."

Giselle let out a soft laugh before biting the tender skin of your thigh, making you gasp. "And I can’t help but get in heat when you look like a fucking goddess," she purred.

Then, without warning, she dove in.

Any smart remark you had died on your lips the moment you felt her tongue against you. It was impossible to form a coherent thought—her mouth, her fingers, her touch, all of it rendered you utterly mindless.

She knew exactly what she was doing. She had learned your body last night, memorized every reaction, every gasp, every arch of your back. And now, she was using that knowledge mercilessly.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate as she worked you open, pushing you to the edge with ease. The way her fingers curled just right inside you, the way her lips latched onto your clit with the perfect amount of pressure—it was intoxicating. And from the satisfied hums she let out against your skin, she knew the effect she had on you.

Giselle lived for this—for the way you melted under her, for the way your body responded so perfectly to her touch.

The pressure in your core coiled tighter, your moans breaking into choked gasps. You were so, so close—

And then, with one final stroke, one last flick of her tongue, you unraveled, crying out her name in bliss. Your body trembled beneath her, waves of pleasure crashing over you.

But she wasn’t done yet.

Giselle took her time, savoring you, making sure you felt every lingering stroke of her tongue as she cleaned you up, her fingers still inside, coaxing every last aftershock from you.

When she finally pulled away, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a smug grin on her lips.

"Now, it’s my turn, isn’t it?" she murmured, crawling back up your body. She kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on her lips before pulling away just enough to whisper, "Because I know my good girl wouldn’t leave me hanging… right, baby?"

She positioned herself above you, her arousal just as evident as yours had been, glistening in the soft morning light.

And as you gazed up at her, completely wrecked yet still aching for more, you knew one thing—

You’d spend forever worshiping this woman.

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