the way you reached out to him, the way your fingers brushed against his skin — everything about it made his heart race, his thoughts stumble over themselves, and his body freeze up in ways he couldn’t control.

and you had no idea. of course you didn’t.

how could you? to you, it was all so easy, so natural. but to jisung? it was torture in the best, most confusing way.

and now, here you were again, doing something so normal, yet to him, it felt like everything.

“you’re doing it again,” you said, leaning across the library table, tapping your pencil against his forehead.

jisung blinked, startled. “d-doing what?”

“zoning out,” you replied, grinning as you pulled back. “you’ve been staring at your laptop screen for ten minutes and haven’t typed a single word. what’s going on in that big brain of yours?”

“nothing,” he said quickly, pushing his glasses up his nose and averting your eyes.

you tilted your head, studying him like you always did when you knew he was lying. “really? because you’re fidgeting with your hoodie strings again.”

he immediately dropped the strings and shoved his hands under the table, cursing himself silently.

“i’m just… tired,” he mumbled, knowing how unconvincing he sounded.

“mmh,” you said, not buying it for a second.

instead of pressing him further, though, you leaned across the table again, your chin propped on your hand.

“want me to type for you? you’re obviously useless right now.”

“i’m not useless!” he protested, his voice cracking slightly.

you grinned, your free hand reaching out to ruffle his hair. “relax, i’m kidding. but seriously, what’s up? you’ve been weird all day.”

jisung’s heart skipped a beat at the contact, and he quickly ducked his head, hoping you wouldn’t notice the redness creeping up his neck. “i’m fine. promise.”

you frowned, leaning closer until he could feel the warmth of your presence across the table. “you sure? because you know you can tell me anything, right?”

that was the problem.

you were too kind, too attentive, too you.

you made it impossible for him to hide his feelings, but at the same time, the thought of telling you the truth terrified him. what if it ruined everything? what if you didn’t feel the same way?

he couldn’t lose you.

“i-it’s nothing,” he said weakly, staring at the blank document on his screen.

you didn’t look convinced, but instead of pushing him, you reached out and rested a hand on his arm. your thumb brushed lightly against the fabric of his hoodie, a simple, unconscious gesture, but it was enough to send his heart into overdrive.

“sungie,” you said softly, your voice full of patience and warmth. “you’ve been acting off for weeks. did something happen? did someone say something to you?”

“n-no!” he said quickly, shaking his head.

“then what is it?” you pressed, your eyes searching his face.

jisung felt his chest tighten, the weight of his feelings threatening to crush him.

he couldn’t keep doing this. he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when it so clearly wasn’t.

“i…” he hesitated, his fingers clenching into fists under the table. “i need to tell you something.”

you straightened slightly, your expression soft but serious. “okay. i’m listening.”

his heart was pounding so hard he thought it might burst. he couldn’t look at you — not directly.

instead, he stared at his hands, the words spilling out in a frantic rush.

“i love you.”

he blurted out, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. his voice shook, and his chest felt tight.

“like, really love you. more than a friend. a lot more. and i’ve been trying to ignore it, trying to keep it to myself because i didn’t want to ruin anything, but it’s been eating me up inside. every time you smile at me, or touch me, or just say my name.. god, it drives me completely crazy. and i know you probably don’t feel the same way, and i’m sorry if this makes things weird between us, but i—”

“jisung, wait—”

“no, let me finish!” he interrupted, panic bubbling up as the words rushed out faster than he could think. “you mean everything to me. you’re the best part of my day, every day. and i can’t stop thinking about you, and i know you deserve someone better than me, but i… i can’t help it. i don’t want to lose you, but i—”

“jisung,” you said, your voice steady but gentle.

you reached out and placed your hand over his, your touch grounding him in the moment. it was soft, but firm enough to make his heart skip a beat.

he froze, his breath caught in his chest as he finally looked up at you.

“breathe,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “it’s okay. you’re okay.”

he let out a shaky exhale, his shoulders slumping slightly.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. “i didn’t mean to dump all of that on you. i just…”

“stop apologizing,” you said gently, your fingers tightening around his. “you didn’t ruin anything.”

he stared at you, his eyes wide and unsure, searching for any sign that this wasn’t just some dream. “i didn’t?”

you shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “no, sungie. you didn’t ruin anything. if anything, you just made my day.”

his heart skipped a beat. “w-what?”

“did it seriously never cross your mind that i might feel the same way?” you asked, tilting your head. “because i do. i have for a while actually.”

he blinked, unable to process the words.

“you… you do?”

you grinned, leaning closer until your forehead was nearly touching his. “of course i do, idiot. why do you think i’m always all over you?”

jisung’s face burned, and he let out a shaky laugh, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose. “i thought you were just… you know. just being you.”

“i am me,” you said, your grin softening into something more tender. “and you’re you. and that’s exactly why this works.”

he let out another breathless laugh, his heart feeling too full to contain. “i can’t believe this is happening.”

“believe it,” you said, squeezing his hand one last time before letting go — only to immediately ruffle his hair again. “but next time, maybe don’t spiral so much before confessing, okay?”

“no promises,” he said, grinning despite himself.

you rolled your eyes, but the affection in your expression was impossible to miss. “you’re such a dork.”

“but i’m your dork, right?” he said shyly, his voice full of wonder.

“yeah,” you said, your smile widening as you rested your chin back on your hand. “of course you are.”

you’re already in jisung's lap when he starts to fall apart. not even moving — just sitting, like he asked you to. his cock is buried inside you to the hilt, and somehow, that’s what’s killing him the most.

the stillness. the restraint. the heat of you clenching around him like your body can’t tell this was supposed to be a pause. his fingers dig into your hips, holding you down like he’s trying to keep himself from doing something stupid.

his back is pressed against the headboard, legs spread wide, and you’re straddling him with nothing but your oversized sleep shirt hitched up over your thighs. you aren’t wearing anything underneath. he knows, he’s the one who told you to take it off.

the moment you sank down on him, he swore under his breath, low and broken, like it hurt. and now, maybe ten minutes later, he’s still swearing. still breathing hard. still losing his grip on the promise he made.

“just the tip,” he’d said, voice dark and velvety against your neck. “let me put it in, baby. just sit on it, yeah? we won’t move. just wanna feel you for a bit.”

you had nodded. you always do, soft and pliant and so good for him. you’d let him guide the head of his cock into your soaked entrance, had gasped when he didn’t stop, when he pressed all the way in, thick and aching and slow. you’re wet enough to take it easily, but the stretch still left your mouth parted in shock, breath stuttering. you clung to his shoulders and he kissed your cheek like an apology.

then he told you not to move, so you didn’t. and that’s the problem.

now he’s trembling under you, hands gripping your hips like your body is the last stable thing in the world. his jaw is tight, brows furrowed, his mouth pressed to the curve of your shoulder, not kissing, just there, breathing hot and fast against your skin like he’s seconds away from begging.

“fuck,” he mumbles. “you’re so warm. you’re so—shit, you’re squeezing me.”

you don’t mean to. It’s not on purpose. you’re trying to behave, sitting still just like he told you, but the way he fills you makes it impossible to relax.

you can feel everything, every twitch, every pulse, every little movement of his hips under yours that he tries so hard to control. he’s thick and hot and pressing against that spot inside you without even thrusting. you feel stretched to the edge, stuffed so full it borders on unbearable.

he curses again under his breath and leans his head back to stare at the ceiling. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. one of his hands lifts, drags through his hair, like he’s trying to cool down. it doesn’t work.

“you don’t even know,” he groans, voice low and wrecked. “you don’t even fucking know what you’re doing to me right now.”

you look down at him, his flushed cheeks, the sweat starting to gather at his temple, the way his lips part every time you clench just slightly around him without meaning to.

“i’m not doing anything,” you whisper.

he looks up at you like you’ve just committed a crime. like he’s been stabbed.

“exactly,” he says, nearly breathless. “you’re not doing anything and I still wanna flip you over and fuck you stupid.”

that makes your breath catch. your hands curl in the fabric of his shirt. he feels it. his hands flex, fingertips pressing bruises into your skin without meaning to.

“you’re sitting on my cock like it belongs to you,” he murmurs, voice dropping lower, “and you’re so fucking good—not even moving. you’re just taking it. letting me feel how warm you are. how wet. how tight.”

he bucks up into you — not enough to fuck, just enough to make you gasp.

“baby,” he says, voice unraveling, “’m gonna lose it.”

your thighs squeeze around his hips, and his head tips back again with a groan.

“I was trying to be good,” he mutters, like he’s confessing something awful. “I just wanted to feel you. just wanted a little.”

he looks back at you, wide-eyed, flushed, barely holding on.

“but now I need more.”

the words fall out of him like he’s helpless against them. he is. you can see it, the tension in his arms, the wrecked look in his eyes, the way his cock twitches inside you like it’s begging for friction.

he’s past the point of pretending. past control. his fingers flex at your hips, and suddenly he’s pulling you forward — not harsh, but urgent, like he can’t stand another second of not moving.

“bounce for me, baby,” he whispers, voice hoarse and shaking. “just a little. please.”

you hesitate, shy, unsure, still not quite believing how wrecked he is just from sitting still inside you. but the moment you shift your hips, even slightly, he chokes out a moan so raw it makes your thighs tremble.

“that’s it,” he gasps. “just like that. fuck—fuck, I knew you’d feel like this.”

you roll your hips again, slower this time, testing the way he stretches you, the drag of his cock against your walls, how deep he hits even without effort. his hands slide down to your ass, squeezing, guiding, urging. his eyes are locked on your face now, feverish with need.

“go ahead,” he says, voice pitched high with want. “ride me, baby. take what you want.”

you start to move — small bounces at first, shy and careful. but he meets you halfway, hips jerking up with every grind, every rock of your body, until your pace grows clumsy, frantic, all rhythm gone in the haze of how good he feels. his moans get louder, his grip tighter. the desperation is everywhere now, flooding the room like heat.

“so t-tight,” jisung groans. “I can feel everything. you’re milking me.”

you whimper at the way he says it, at the raw praise in his voice. his hands are all over you now, sliding up your back, clutching your waist, trailing under your shirt to grip your ribs like he needs to hold you together while you fall apart.

“look at you,” he murmurs, dazed. “so good for me. my pretty girl, taking it so well..”

your head falls forward, forehead resting against his as you sink down harder. the wet sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, obscene and desperate. jisung’s eyes flutter shut, his mouth parted, sweat clinging to his neck.

“I was trying to behave,” he whispers. “I swear I was— but the second you sat down, I couldn’t think straight.”

you whine, riding him faster now, driven by the way his voice breaks, the way his cock twitches with every drop of your hips.

“fuck, baby, yes—ride me. ride me just like that. I’m not gonna last if you keep—shit, just like that—”

his head falls back against the headboard with a thud, and you swear he’s close already. he’s panting, groaning, fingers bruising into your skin as he helps you slam down harder, deeper.

your clit drags perfectly against the seam of his abdomen, sparking white heat through your core.

“can’t—can’t hold back,” he chokes out, voice thick with tears. “you’re gonna make me come. you want that? you want me to fill you up like a good lil slut?”

your breath catches. you nod. “say it,” he growls, thrusting up into you so hard your thighs quiver.

“I want it,” you gasp. “want you to come inside me, jisung—please, I need it—”

he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you down into a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue and moaning into your mouth as he fucks up into you like he’s lost control.

your hips stutter, your thighs begin to shake, and his free hand slips between your bodies to rub fast, desperate circles over your clit.

“come first,” he pants against your lips. “come with me—please, baby, wanna feel you clench.”

you do — seconds later, crashing down around him with a broken cry, body tightening, shuddering hard as you come all over his cock. that’s what breaks him.

he thrusts up into you one last time with a wrecked gasp and spills deep inside, burying his face in your neck as he groans through it.

you stay like that — panting, tangled, skin hot and slick and trembling — with his cock still twitching inside you, his arms wrapped tight around your waist like he’ll never let go.

“..fuck,” he breathes after a long moment. “that was not just the tip.”

you laugh weakly, still catching your breath. “you lasted longer than I thought.”