But God, you wanted it too badly.

Carefully, you lift the arm draped around your waist and sit up. He shifts, rolling onto his back, his sleepy mind probably assuming you’re heading to the bathroom. But the grin tugging at your lips says otherwise.

Biting your lip, you slowly tug his shorts down. You take your time, watching him, then lean closer. A soft gasp leaves you as you let your spit fall onto him, your hand moving slowly, experimentally.

You glance up at his face. His brows knit together faintly, his body reacting even in sleep.

He hardens in your hand, and the sight makes your breath hitch.

Careful not to put your full weight on him, you climb over him, pushing your hoodie up and sliding your panties aside. Slowly, you sink down, biting back a moan as the feeling pulls a soft sigh from your lips. You watch his face as it tightens, a quiet groan slipping out.

You move gently at first, rocking your hips as you lean down to press soft kisses to his cheek.

His head turns. His eyes flutter open, unfocused, lips caught between his teeth when he realizes what’s happening. His head falls back into the pillow, a low sound leaving him as his hands find your hips.

“Shit… baby,” he mutters, voice rough with sleep.

You laugh softly, picking up the pace as his grip tightens.

You dip down to his neck, sucking dark marks along his pulse as he groans.

“Fuck…” One hand tangles in your hair, instinctively holding you closer as the pleasure builds.

You clench around him, moaning into his ear as his hips begin to move, chasing his release.

“San…” you breathe, lips brushing his collarbone, your own building fast.

“Don’t stop—please,” he groans, fully awake now, helping guide your movements.

He spills into you with a broken sound, rocking you through it as warmth floods you both. You ride it out together until he slows, breath uneven, trying to steady himself.

You lift your hips slightly, both of you catching your breath. Your cum mixed with his dripping down your inner thighs.

“Damn,” he chuckles softly, brushing your hair behind your ear. “You got me first, huh?”

You smile down at him, tilting your head. “How was it?”

“So good, baby,” he murmurs, kissing your lips, his hands resting warmly on you.

You grin and tuck yourself into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply.

“You smell so good,” you whisper. “I couldn’t help it.”

He hooks his hand under your leg, gently lifting it so he can settle between your thighs. You feel his warmth through the fabric, the only barrier between you.

A soft sound escapes your lips as he moves against you. Butterflies erupt in your stomach, nerves and excitement tangling together.

He pulls back slightly, lips trailing down to your neck. “Off?” he asks, fingers resting at the hem of your shirt.

You nod, feeling shy but comforted by the way he asks every time.

Soon, your clothes join the carpeted floor. You’re both under the sheets now, skin warm against skin. He keeps checking your expression, making sure you’re comfortable.

“Han…” you whisper when his thumb finds you, moving slowly, gently.

“Hm?” he murmurs, watching your face. “Good?”

“Yes— God, yes” your voice trembles, hands clutching his shoulders.

Everything feels new and overwhelming in the best way. He’s just as nervous as you are, but he keeps moving carefully, whispering soft praises when you start to shake beneath him.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. A digit sinking in your hole.

"Fuck" you groaned, his finger pumping in and out at a steady pace. Your state making his cock twitch.

He feels you tighten around his finger, pumping it faster. You moaned, your orgasm washing over you as his lips find your cheek, pressing a soft kiss.

He shifts, pausing as he lines himself up. “Tell me to stop if you need to. Anytime, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Keep going… please.”

He smiles softly, noses brushing. “If it hurts, you tell me immediately. We’ll slow down.”

You nod, trusting him completely.

He pushes in slowly, both of you gasping at the unfamiliar stretch. His face tightens, not just from pleasure, but from concentration, making sure he doesn’t hurt you.

“Sorry… is that okay?” he whispers, voice shaky.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, fingers tangling in his hair.

He stills once he’s fully inside, giving you time to adjust. His forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing hard.

He starts moving slowly, careful thrusts, like he’s afraid of doing it wrong. You guide him with your hands on his back, encouraging him when the pleasure starts to build again.

“Like that?” he asks softly.

“Yeah… right there,” you whisper.

He groans quietly, burying his face in your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin. Everything is clumsy and slow, but full of affection.

“I’m not gonna last,” he admits breathlessly. “You feel so good.”

His pace sped up, gaining more confidence when you told him to go faster. His mouth finds one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around making your back arch.

"Shit— so close" his hips stutter, bringing his thumb back to your clit as he rubbed in circles, bringing you over the edge with him.

His voice hummed deeply, feeling you clench around him. Pleasure running all over his body.

You cling to him as the tension snaps, both of you trembling as you reach your climax. He slows immediately, pressing gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone as your breathing evens out.

After a moment, he lifts his head, brushing the hair from your forehead.

“You okay, angel?” he asks, voice soft with concern.

You nod, still catching your breath. He presses a long kiss to your forehead.

“You did so, so good,” he whispers. “Wait here.”

He pecks your lips and carefully pulls out, both of you hissing softly at the sensitivity.

A few minutes later, he comes back with a towel, sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“My pretty girl,” he says with a soft smile, gently cleaning you up. His touch is slow and careful, like he’s afraid you might break.

When he’s done, he tosses the towel aside and slides back under the covers. He pulls you into his arms, letting your head rest on his chest. His fingers comb through your hair in slow, soothing strokes.

“Tired?” he asks, voice raspy.

“A little,” you mumble with a soft laugh.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you… for trusting me. For giving me your first.”

You tilt your head up to look at him. “I’m glad you’re my first.”

His eyes soften. “Me too. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.”

He reaches for the glass of water on the bedside table, handing it to you. “Drink a little, okay?”

You take a few sips while he watches, making sure you’re alright. Then he pulls the blanket higher around your shoulders, tucking it under your chin.

“Cold?” he asks.

“Just a bit.”

He smiles and pulls you closer, rubbing your back in slow circles. “We can just stay like this for a while.”

You hum softly, eyes fluttering shut.

A few minutes pass in comfortable silence before he speaks again.

“Does anything hurt? Seriously.”

“Just a little sore,” you admit.

“Okay. I’ll bring you snacks and we won’t leave the bed at all tomorrow,” he says with a small grin.

You laugh quietly. “Sounds like a good plan.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest, angel. I’ve got you.”

"I love you" You pressed a kiss on his bare chest.

"I love you. More than you can imagine" He replied, arms tightening around you.

Wrapped in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat, you drift off feeling warm, safe, and completely loved.

You heard him from the hallway—the unmistakable sound of Jaehyun on the brink of losing it.

When you stepped into the room, he was sitting on the floor in front of your full-length mirror, legs stretched out, shoulders tense as he tugged at his ear again.

“Hey,” you said softly, kneeling behind him. Your hands settled on his shoulders, thumbs brushing over the tight muscles there. “Need help?”

His shoulders immediately dropped, like he’d been waiting for permission to give up.

“Yes, please,” he muttered, hands falling to his thighs. “I swear I’ve been here for, like, thirty minutes.”

You smiled, leaning down to peck his lips when he tilted his head back to look at you. “Okay, okay. Let me.”

You moved around him and knelt between his legs, the position so natural he barely registered it—except his hands did, automatically finding your hips as you tilted his head gently to the side.

“Hold still,” you murmured, fingers carefully gripping the hoop. You tugged once. Nothing.

“See?” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “I told you. It hates me.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Calm down, Myungjae.”

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. He sighed at the contact, tension easing just a little. Trying again, you adjusted your grip, applying just the right pressure—

—and the hoop popped open.

“There,” you said triumphantly, sliding it free and holding it up.

He stared for a second, then scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

You dropped the earring beside him on the floor. “One more,” you muttered, already reaching for the other.

“That one hurts,” he warned, voice quieter now. “It’s tight… I’ve been messing with it too much.”

You noticed how red his ear was, irritated from all the pulling. “Alright,” you said gently. “I’ll be quick.”

You braced your fingers and pulled it apart in one clean motion. “Shit—” he hissed, wincing.

Before he could complain further, you leaned in, lips pressing to the sensitive spot just under his ear. His breath hitched instantly.

“G-god…” he breathed, head tilting more as your mouth lingered there. His grip on your hips tightened, the sudden softness making him dizzy.

“You’re fine, hm?” you murmured against his skin. “It’s off.”

Your lips trailed down to his jaw, then to his Adam’s apple, kissing it gently before flicking your tongue out just to tease. Goosebumps broke out across his skin.

His hands pulled you closer without thinking, one sliding down to squeeze your ass. A soft laugh slipped from him as his eyes fluttered shut.

“Should’ve complained earlier,” he muttered, biting his lip. “If this is what I get.” Poor him getting painfully hard just from a few kisses.

You smiled, moving lower, kissing along his exposed collarbone where his oversized shirt had slipped. You grazed your teeth over his skin, and a quiet moan escaped him before he could stop it.

“Fuck,” he groaned, one hand coming up to cradle your head, fingers tangling in your hair. “You’re insane.”

You lifted your head, faces inches apart now, his breathing uneven. “Next time you’re having a hard time,” you said softly, “just ask me, hm?”

You kissed him then—slow, sweet—pulling him closer as you shifted to fully straddle him. His arms wrapped around you immediately.

“Oh, I’m having a hard time, alright…” he murmured against your lips.

“You elbowed someone in the lung,” you shoot back, earning a scoff from him as the crowd shifts, nudging him even closer to you.

“Yeah, no more dancing for us,” he laughs, his head dropping onto your shoulder as the alcohol makes the room spin.

And you’re no better.

“What, giving up already?” Your hands lift to his hair, tugging lightly to make him look at you.

Instead, he accidentally groans at the pull.

“Fuck—don’t do that,” he murmurs against the curve of your neck. His hands, once braced against the wall, slide down to rest on your hips.

“Do what? Come on, get up.” You tug his hair again, finally making him lift his head. His eyelids are hooded, lips reddened from biting them, cheeks flushed with drunken heat.

“Ugh, stop pulling my hair,” he whines, making you frown.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, giving another gentle pull. He sighs, dropping his head back into your neck.

“No. Fuck—it feels nice,” he mutters, his hands instinctively pulling you closer.

“Does it?” you ask, your fingers massaging his scalp, tugging at strands here and there.

His chest rose up and down, hands squeeze your hips as he presses kisses to your skin.

Your eyes flutter shut, feeling his lips trail up your neck while his thumbs draw small circles over the exposed skin beneath your cropped top.

You can’t think of anything else. Neither can he.

You pull his hair harder, forcing him to face you, and crash your lips against his. You move together in sync, the music fading into background noise.

He pulls back suddenly, grabbing your hand and dragging you somewhere else.

Of course—it’s the comfort room.

He locks the door without a second thought, ignoring anyone who might need the stall, wanting the space entirely to yourselves.

He doesn’t wait long, pushing you gently against the wall beside the door and kissing you again. His hand slides down to your ass, squeezing firmly and drawing a moan from your lips.

“Jump,” he breathes against your mouth, tapping your thighs before lifting you onto the sink, settling himself between your legs.

His lips travel down your neck, finding a spot before biting and sucking until he’s sure a mark is left behind. Too drunk to care about painting you with purple marks.

“Hm, San,” you moan softly, your hands returning to his hair, fingers threading through it. His cock twitches at the way you touch him.

“Need you so bad,” he whispers, kissing you again as his hands slide higher up your thighs. Chest rising more evidently as he lets his drunk mind take over him.

You hum into the kiss, your left hand drifting down to grab his belt, pulling him closer until his bulge presses against your clothed cunt.

“Fuck,” he groans, grinding into you harder. Your hands slip under his shirt, fingers tracing his toned stomach.

“Tell me to stop,” he says, pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“Does it look like I want you to?” you reply, the alcohol in your system making you bolder, tugging his hair again to make him look up. You press kisses along his adam’s apple, a smirk tugging at his lips.

His hand cradles the back of your head, pressing you closer as your kisses make his head spin even more.

You pull away, and his hands lift your skirt, revealing your damp panties. His thumb settles flat against your core, moving in slow circles that make you sigh.

“Mmm,” you hum, unbuckling his belt and freeing him. He’s already throbbing, precum slicking the tip.

He lifts your chin with a finger and kisses you again while your hand strokes him painfully slow. His tongue slides into your mouth, gathering spit before letting it slide in as you let out a moan into the kiss.

He pulls back, and you understand immediately.

You let the liquid spill from your lips, both of your spit mixing as it drips onto the tip of his cock. Your palm rolls over him, slicking him up until his head falls back.

“Good…” he murmurs, watching your hand work him while his thumb speeds up against your clothed clit.

You quicken your pace, pumping him steadily, occasionally rubbing your thumb over his slit as he presses harder against your core.

“Ah—shit, San—” Your hips buck as your orgasm washes over you, his thumb slowing.

He pulls his hand away, gripping your wrist and stopping your movements, his cock standing flushed and proud between you. More precum leaking from the previous hand job.

“Condoms?” he asks, already reaching for his back pocket.

“No,” you say, grabbing his hands back as he chuckles. “I want to feel you.” Your arms loop around his neck.

“Yeah?” His head tilts as his thumb hooks your panties aside, the tip of his cock brushing over your bare clit.

He bites his lip before slowly pushing just the head in, your hole sucking him in easily.

“God, you’re soaked,” he groans, pulling out just to rub against your clit, making your head fall back.

“Please, please,” you pant, his teasing making you drip even more.

“Greedy,” he mutters before pushing all the way in, stretching you and drawing a loud moan from your lips.

He sets a quick, steady rhythm, both of you breathing hard. His fingers dig into your thighs, already promising bruises, while his head drops into your neck, sucking at your skin as your hands tug his hair harder.

“Feels so fucking good,” he groans, the sound making you clench around him as he hits deep, over and over.

“Fuck—right there. Right there,” you whimper, obscene sounds filling the room as he perfectly drags against your walls.

Taesan’s eyes flick to the mirror, taking in the sight of you tangled together—your fingers in his hair, bodies rocking in sync—making his cock twitch even more.

“God—” he shuts his eyes, the image replaying in his head as the alcohol heightens every sensation. His climax creeps closer.

“Gonna cum—fuck, I’m cumming.” His fingers slip between you, rubbing your clit fast. “Come on, baby, be there with me.”

You squirm, the intensity overwhelming as you clench tighter, gripping his shirt when the pressure snaps.

He slows but drives deeper, making sure you feel every inch. He tries to pull out, but you wrap your legs around him, keeping him buried inside.

“Y/n—fuck, I can’t—” His hips stutter as he loses control.

“Want you inside,” you whisper against his ear.

His eyes squeeze shut as he bites your shoulder and spills inside you, both of your moans echoing in the small room.

“God—please, I need the toilet!” someone yells from outside, making Taesan laugh against your skin.

“He’ll have to pee somewhere else,” Taesan says, kissing you again, his hips still rolling slowly.

Oh well—good luck facing each other after this.

But Dongmin isn’t watching them.

He’s watching you.

From where he’s sitting on the floor, he notices how your pajama top folds at your chest every time you bend forward laughing, giving him an unintentional glimpse of your black bra. Your eyes meet his for just a second—too short to mean anything, too long to mean nothing. He swallows, shifting where he sits, hands clenching at his sides.

The others are too busy laughing to notice when he stands up. Walking over to you and holds a hand out.

“Yes?” you ask, looking up at him as you take it. “You need something?”

“Yeah,” he says casually, already pulling you up. “Borrowing you for a sec.”

Before you can react, he’s dragging you out of the living room and toward the guest room. No one looks twice.

“Oh, come on, Min,” you roll your eyes, though you’re smiling as he shuts the door behind you.

“It’s your fault,” he mutters—and then he’s kissing you.

His hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer, while the other cradles the back of your head. You pull away just enough to speak, your words brushing against his lips.

“They’re literally right outside.”

You feel him smile.

“As if they’re not used to this,” he murmurs, laughing softly as his hand drifts lower, squeezing your ass.

He guides the both of you toward the bed, sitting down with you standing between his legs.

“Just… ride me? Please?” He looks up at you, moonlight spilling through the window and lighting his face perfectly. “I need you. So bad.”

“Then be quiet,” you warn, fixing him with a stern look as you straddle him, settling right on top of his already hard bulge.

He sighs, satisfied, his hands sliding under your shirt to rest against your bare skin.

You roll your hips slowly, and his head falls back with a quiet groan.

“You’re ridiculous,” you whisper, pressing kisses along his neck until his thoughts scatter.

“Fuck me, please,” he mutters, making you laugh softly. You bite his earlobe once before sitting up and tugging your shorts off. His eyes never leave you as you pull your panties down, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

You climb back onto him, freeing him and wrapping your hand around his length, pumping slowly while he bites down on his lip to stay quiet.

“You’re pathetic,” you tease softly, squeezing him. “Begging when I haven’t even done anything to you.”

He groans.

You sink down on him, both of you muffling your sounds as you move together, foreheads pressing close.

He pulls you in for a kiss as you start to move, his fingers digging into your skin while your hands tangle in his hair.

“Shit,” he moans against your mouth, hands sliding up to your chest, finally squeezing what he’s been staring at all night.

You keep going, thighs burning as you chase your high. His hands move to your ass, guiding your hips as his breathing turns uneven.

“Fuck—fuck,” he whispers. “Yes…”

He lets out a sound a little too loud, and you kiss him again, swallowing his moans.

Both of you moan quietly as everything crashes, moving just enough to ride it out together.

Back in the living room

“No fucking way,” Sungho mutters, staring into space, clearly focused on something else entirely.

“What?” Donghyun asks, glancing around at the sudden shift in energy.

“They’re doing it again!” Sungho groans, throwing his arms up. “In my house, man.”

“Fuck…” he mutters when you back into him again.

You’re tangled under the comforter, the room cold enough that you keep seeking warmth. Unfortunately, that warmth is him.

Your ass presses flush against the growing bulge in his pajamas.

Leehan exhales slowly through his nose, teeth grinding. “Unbelievable.”

You shift, arching just a little, your head rolling across the pillow. Your waistband slips lower, exposing the smooth line of your lower back.

He clicks his tongue, annoyed—at you, at himself.

“Stay still,” he murmurs, even though you can’t hear him.

He hooks a finger into your waistband, tugging it up. The elastic snaps back softly, and you turn in your sleep, your hips rolling—right into him.

His hands slide to your hips on instinct.

“Han… it’s cold,” you mumble, half-asleep, voice soft and needy.

That’s it.

He scoffs quietly, arms wrapping around you and dragging you back against his chest. “You don’t know when to stop, do you?”

Your back molds into him, heat building fast—too fast. His palm settles on your hip, fingers tapping like he’s deciding something.

His dick twitches, trapped and aching.

“Still cold?” he whispers, lips hovering near your ear.

You hum, nuzzling back into him.

Leehan smiles, sharp and humorless. “Thought so.”

His hand slides lower, slow and deliberate, settling between your thighs. He lifts your leg, propping it over the pillow like he owns you, opening you up without hesitation.

You react immediately—body tensing, breath hitching.

“Mm… there you go,” he mutters.

He cups you through the fabric, heat blooming under his palm. He moves slowly, controlled, watching your face as your brows knit even in sleep.

“Look at you,” he whispers against your neck. “Acting all innocent.”

His thumb finds your clit, circling with intention. You squirm, fingers gripping the pillow as your hips push back into him.

He doesn’t stop.

Your eyes flutter open, unfocused, gaze dropping to his hand moving between your thighs.

“Leehan—what the fuck?” you whisper, panic and confusion mixing in your voice.

He chuckles, low and mean, propping himself on one elbow so he can loom over you. “Relax. You’re the one who wouldn’t stay still.”

Your body betrays you, shaking as pleasure spikes too fast, too sharp.

“Shit—” you gasp as you come in your panties, thighs trembling.

Leehan watches you with a satisfied smirk. “Yeah. Just like that.”

“What are you doing?” you ask weakly, breath unsteady.

“You said you were cold,” he replies flatly, leaning in. “I’m fixing it.”

Before you can protest, his mouth crashes into yours, biting your bottom lip hard enough to make you gasp before his tongue forces its way in.

“You kept pushing your ass into me,” he murmurs against your mouth. “Don’t act surprised.”

He tugs your pajamas down, freeing himself. He drags the tip of his cock over your clit, fabric soaking through as he grinds deliberately.

You whimper into the kiss, overstimulated, hips jerking as his grip tightens.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he taunts, rocking into you harder. “Knew it.”

“This isn’t right,” you whisper, voice breaking.

He scoffs. “Yeah? Then why are you shaking?”

His hand slides up, fingers curling around your throat—not choking, just enough pressure to remind you. Control snaps tight in your chest.

“Oh my god—”

Your second orgasm crashes over you, messy and overwhelming. He doesn’t give you time to recover—he pushes inside, filling you in one smooth thrust.

“Fuck,” he groans. “So warm.”

The bed creaks as he moves, pace rough, unforgiving. You try to push him away, hands weak against his chest.

“No—please—”

He grips your hip harder, slamming you back onto him instead. “Take it.”

Tears spill as your body stays sensitive, nerves screaming. He kisses you again, swallowing every sound, fingers dropping to rub your clit relentlessly.

“I’m gonna cum,” he mutters, thrusts growing sloppy. “Don’t you dare waste it.”

Your body clenches around him, and he groans loudly as he spills inside you, dragging you over the edge with him.

He slows eventually, breathing heavy, still inside you.

You shove at his arms weakly. “What the fuck was that, you idiot?”

He grins down at you, unapologetic. Mean.

“Then stop pushing your ass into me next time.”

You look… distractingly pretty when you’re stressed.

It makes him dizzy.

“Ugh,” you groan, finally giving up and letting your forehead drop onto the desk with a dull thud. “Nothing is getting consumed by my brain.”

A soft laugh comes from behind you.

“Y/n,” Taesan says, pushing himself up against the headboard. “You’ve been staring at that same page for hours. At this point, you’re not studying—you’re torturing yourself.”

You turn slightly in your chair, pouting. “I don’t trust myself right now. I could forget everything the moment I sit down for the test.”

He hums, eyes scanning you thoughtfully. Then his lips curve into something mischievous.

An idea forms.

“Well,” he says slowly, sitting up straighter, “how about we test your memory?”

You blink at him. “Test it… how?”

Instead of answering, he pats his chest. “You point out the parts. On me.”

Silence.

“O-on you?” you stutter, heat instantly crawling up your neck. You’re grateful for the dim lamp casting shadows across the room.

“Yeah,” he shrugs casually, though the smirk on his face gives him away. “What? I’m a visual learner too.”

You hesitate, then stand anyway, nerves buzzing under your skin. “Okay…”

You sit on the edge of your bed as he rises to stand in front of you. He towers just slightly, close enough that you can smell his cologne—something clean and warm.

Then he lifts his shirt over his head.

You blink.

Once. Twice.

Your eyes absolutely betray you, tracing the lines of his toned stomach, the subtle flex of muscle as he tosses the shirt aside.

“Go ahead,” he murmurs, looking down at you. “Study anatomy.”

Your heart pounds as you clutch your notes with slightly trembling fingers. “O-oh… okay.”

You face him, trying—failing—to focus.

“Acromial… cervical…” Your finger taps his shoulder, then his neck. He nods encouragingly, watching your every move.

“Thorax…” Your hand drifts lower.

He hums, not even pretending to look at the paper anymore.

“Abdomen,” you whisper, cheeks burning as your fingers hover over his stomach.

“Mhm,” he agrees quietly.

Your gaze drops to the waistband of his sweats, where the strings hang loose. Your breath stutters.

“P-pelvis.”

You freeze.

Your mind short-circuits completely.

“See?” Taesan says softly. He lifts a hand, thumb and fingers gently holding your jaw so you’re forced to look up at him. “You’re doing great.”

Your lips part without permission.

“You deserve a reward, don’t you?”

“What…?” you whisper.

His smile deepens.

He steps closer, and you instinctively lean back until your shoulders hit the mattress. He follows, bracing himself above you, his weight caging you in.

“Taesan—”

“Shh.” His face dips closer. “You worked so hard.”

His fingers comb through your hair, slow and gentle. “I’m so proud of you, Y/nie.”

His lips brush your cheek, making your breath hitch.

“San…” Your thoughts blur—heat and confusion twisting together in your chest.

He’s your best friend.

So why do you want him closer?

“Let’s take a break from studying,” he murmurs. “Yeah?”

His lips finally capture yours in a soft, unhurried kiss. It’s sweet at first—until he tilts your chin, coaxing your mouth open, his tongue slipping inside.

You gasp when his body presses down, his growing bulge grinding against your core. Your hands clutch his arms as he moves slowly, deliberately.

“You’ll pass that test,” he whispers against your lips. “You’re so smart.”

Your head falls back as he praises you, his mouth trailing to your neck, kisses turning hungrier as his pace picks up.

“T-Taesan…” you moan, hips bucking on instinct.

“Feels good, huh?” he murmurs, grinding harder. “I know.”

Your shorts grow damp, your body reacting faster than your mind can catch up. The pressure builds until—

“San, I’m gonna—”

Your voice breaks as you come, trembling beneath him.

“Shit,” he mutters, breathless. He stills, staring down as he realizes how affected he is.

His thumb hooks into your waistband, tugging your shorts down just enough before he frees himself—

And suddenly, he’s inside you.

“Fuck!” you cry out at the stretch.

He groans, hips rocking as he chases his release, your body clenching helplessly around him.

“God—I’m cumming,” he gasps, pulling out at the last second, spilling over your clit with a shaky laugh.

He stares at the mess, then at you—still flushed, still breathless.

“Wow,” he chuckles softly. “You really do things to me.”

He glances at the clock on your nightstand, then smirks. Holding his member to smear his cum all over your cunt with his tip.

“A thirty-minute break won’t hurt,” he says.

goodnight, baby.

Then the photo loads.

You, sprawled lazily in a black nightdress that clings in all the right places—cleavage pushed just enough to be sinful, lace peeking beneath the hem like a secret meant only for him.

“Fuck me…” he mutters, dropping onto the edge of the bed.

How dare you send this when he’s so far away.

His jaw tightens as he stares, thumb brushing the screen like he could touch you through it. His other hand drifts down without thinking, palm pressing against the ache already straining his boxers.

A low groan slips out as he squeezes himself, head falling back. Every thought is you—your teasing smile, the way you know what you’re doing to him.

“Shit, Y/n…”

He frees himself, spits into his hand, slicking himself up before wrapping his fingers around his cock. His phone stays upright beside him, your photo glowing like a temptation he can’t look away from.

Poor him imagining himself sliding between your breasts, the way you’d look up at him, lips parted—

His hand pumps faster, wet sounds filling the quiet room as he twists his grip, thumb circling his flushed tip just right.

“O–oh fuck…” he groans, breath shaky as pleasure coils tighter in his stomach.

His eyes squeeze shut, body tensing as he chases it, strokes turning desperate.

“Oh—yes, g-god—”

He comes hard, spilling over his hand and onto his thighs, hips jerking as he squeezes himself one last time to pull out every drop.

When he finally steadies, chest heaving, he opens his eyes and looks back at your photo. A slow grin curls at the corner of his lips.

“Naughty girl,” he chuckles.

Then an idea strikes.

He grabs his phone, snaps a photo of himself—hand wrapped around his cock, streaked with cum—raw, unfiltered, meant only for you.

He sends it.

Then types:

goodnight, sexy.