liz

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 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.

“I have a playlist for you, you know that,” Jaehyun laughed softly. He leaned closer, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your left ear before placing the earbud back in—this time, carefully, like it was something precious.

Your heart stuttered at the gesture, warmth creeping up your cheeks.

Jaehyun had been courting you for five months now.

He asked to pursue you during the campus festival, after weeks of lab projects that turned into late-night chats and shared snacks.

Somehow, every day since then, he made you fall a little deeper—effortless, patient, sincere.

“I love this song,” you murmured, your fingers fidgeting with the worn edge of your notebook.

Your faint voice that brushes past me

Please call my name just one more time

“Yeah?” Jaehyun turned his head toward you, eyes bright. “I added this because it reminds me of us.” He glanced down shyly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Your blush deepened.

Though I’m standing under the frozen sunset,

I will walk towards you, one step at a time

“Really?” you asked, laughing softly. “How come?”

He looked at you again, his gaze lingering on your features before settling into your eyes. “Because no matter what happens,” he said quietly, “no matter how long it takes, I’ll always stick by your side.”

Your breath hitched.

For a moment, you just stared at him. The laughter from the field, the rustling leaves, the distant chatter—all of it faded into the background. The song hummed gently in your ears, wrapping around the two of you like a secret.

“Jaehyun…” you said softly, calling his name once.

“Hm?” He hummed in response, eyebrows lifting slightly as his fingers absentmindedly played with yours.

“Can you tell me the date today?” you asked.

His brows furrowed in confusion as he double-tapped his phone. “January 28th?” He looked back at you. “Why?”

“Remember that,” you said, biting your lip, nerves suddenly fluttering in your chest. His head tilted further as confusion set in. “That’s our anniversary.”

His face fell—then froze—like his brain had completely shut down.

“You’re…” He searched your face, as if making sure he read it right. “I’m your boyfriend?” His grip on your hand tightened.

You smiled cheekily and nodded.

He shot up so suddenly that the table shook.

“Jae!” you laughed as one of his books clattered to the ground and both earbuds slipped out of your ears.

“You— you’re mine?” he asked breathlessly, eyes full of disbelief and longing.

You nodded again, laughing harder.

“H-holy shi—” He didn’t finish the sentence because you stood up and clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Oh my gosh, Jae,” you laughed, gently pushing him back down to sit beside you.

He looked up at you, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. “C-can I?” he asked softly.

You answered by leaning in.

Your lips met, warm and tentative, then sure. His hands rose instinctively, cupping your cheeks like you might disappear if he didn’t hold on.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips, a smile in his voice.

“For what?” you asked when you pulled back slightly, your hands resting over his.

“For being my granted wish.”

The song played on quietly in the earbuds now resting between the both of you.

Still with you.

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.”

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.

And you’re not sure if it’s the heat trapped in the gym—or the tension humming between you.

You grunt, pushing the weight up successfully. Sungho praises you softly from behind.

“Good. You’ve got it.”

You lift your eyes to the mirror, catching both of your reflections. His gaze drifts—not to your face, but lower—as you sink back down into another squat.

“Very good,” he mutters, breath warm against the nape of your neck.

You laugh quietly to yourself.

Oh, you know exactly what you’re doing.

Sungho bites his lip every time you dip down, brushing your ass against him and convincing himself it’s unintentional—convincing himself you’re not doing this on purpose.

“Last one,” he says, voice low as he helps guide you down slowly. He exhales quietly, the friction starting to get to him.

You finish and rack the weight, straightening up as both of you pause. Your eyes flick to the mirror again, catching him staring up at the ceiling like he’s trying to calm himself.

Your gaze trails down his neck. His shoulders. His toned arms.

Suddenly, he speaks.

You snap your eyes up, meeting his in the mirror.

He raises an eyebrow, catching you staring.

A slow smile curves onto his lips.

“Cardio,” he says, stepping closer.

“Huh?” you ask, confused. He already finished earlier—what the hell does he mean?

Before you can react, he gently pushes you forward, bending you over the machine in front of you. Your knees rest on the seat, arms braced against the padding.

“You’re really testing me now, huh?” he mutters.

His hand lands against your ass once—sharp enough to make you gasp.

“You keep doing this,” he groans, pressing the bulge in his shorts against you. You bite your lip, heat flooding through you.

“I kept telling myself to behave.” His hips roll slowly, hands sliding over your exposed lower back. “But now that you moved like that? I’m not holding back.”

His fingers hook into your waistband, tugging it down just enough to expose your black panties—already damp.

“Fuck,” he chuckles under his breath.

His thumb slips down, brushing over your slit, making you push back into him without thinking.

“U-uh, Sungho…” your head drops, voice hushed in the empty gym.

His thumb circles your clit slowly, occasionally brushing lower, teasing your aching hole until a whine slips from you.

One hand grips your hips while the other keeps working you, movements growing faster, more deliberate.

He slides his thumb beneath the fabric, finally touching you properly, easily slipping into your entrance.

“Shit—” you moan, mouth falling open as he plays with you.

“Hm?” he hums. “Gonna cum already?”

When you nod desperately, he pulls his hand away, leaving you aching.

“You’re cumming on my cock, Y/N,” he says, tugging his shorts down just enough to free himself. “You’ve been teasing me all night.”

He grips himself, running the tip along your clit.

“How about I return the favor?” he murmurs—sliding in just an inch before pulling back out.

“Please,” you whine, voice breaking. “Please.”

“Hm?” he chuckles. “But I haven’t gotten my revenge yet.”

He dips in again, then pulls away, dragging his length up and down your clit until you’re clenching around nothing.

“G-god, please,” you beg, hips pushing back.

Then suddenly, he thrusts in fully, setting a fast, relentless pace without giving you time to adjust.

“Fuck—Sungho—” You press the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to stay quiet.

“This what you want?” he grunts, driving into you harder.

“Yes—yes, please,” you cry softly, biting your lip.

He grips your hair, pulling your head up.

“Look,” he commands.

Your eyes meet the mirror wall in front of you.

You’re a mess—bent over, flushed, breathless. Behind you, Sungho looks just as wrecked. His blond hair is pushed back, sleeves rolled up, shirt caught between his teeth, abs fully on display.

The sight pushes you closer to the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you whimper, pushing back into his thrusts.

“Shit,” he groans. “I’m cumming.”

His thrusts grow sloppy and deep as both of you fall apart together, his release spilling inside you.

“Fuck,” he mutters, looking down where you’re still connected.

He pulls out slowly, watching himself slide free before sinking back in once more, laughing quietly as he forces himself to stop before getting hard again.

He straightens slightly, breath uneven.

“Guess we’re not just gym buddies anymore, huh?”

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.

God.

Your fingers drift lower as another edit plays, heat pooling in your stomach.

“Shit…” you murmur, thumb brushing over your clothed core while his face fills your screen. Your head tips back, breath hitching as your movements grow more deliberate, chasing that familiar knot tightening inside you.

“Doing all that without me?”

The voice makes you freeze.

Your fingers still instantly as you look up, heart jumping at the sight of him leaning casually against the doorframe.

“Jae…” you breathe, eyes wide. “You’re not supposed to be home yet.”

His gaze drops to your phone, the paused edit unmistakable. A slow smirk curves his lips.

“I see you missed me,” he says, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. “Couldn’t wait, huh?”

“I—I—”

“Continue, baby.” His hand slips into your hair, gentle but commanding. His other hand hovers over yours before guiding it back down. “Don’t stop just because I caught you.”

Heat floods you as you obey, moving slowly at first while he watches, dark and focused. You feel him harden beneath his pants, his jaw tightening.

“Faster,” he orders quietly.

A soft moan slips from you as you add pressure, circling more urgently.

“Like that?” he murmurs, lips brushing yours in a teasing peck. You bite your lip, need spiraling now that he’s here.

“One finger in,” he says, already helping slide your panties aside.

Your breath stutters as your fingers obey, cold at first before sinking inside you.

“O-oh, fuck…” you whimper, back arching.

“That’s it,” he praises, voice low. “You look so pretty like this.”

His hand grips himself through his pants, the sight of you clearly undoing him. Your fingers move faster, his edit forgotten in the background.

With your eyes closed and your mind overwhelmed, you barely register him standing, undressing. Not until he gently pulls your hand away.

You whine at the loss.

“Don’t know why you’re playing with yourself,” he says, positioning himself between your legs, sliding himself through your folds. “When you could just take the real thing.”

Your mouth falls open as he pushes inside you, thrusting deep and fast.

“So good,” you gasp, arms looping around his neck to pull him closer.

“That’s it,” he chuckles softly. “Squeeze me.”

You clench around him, his tip hitting deep, and the pressure snaps.

“I—I can’t— I’m gonna—”

Your eyes roll back as you come, his lips pressed to your neck, groaning against your skin.

“God, you’re soaking,” he mutters, pace turning desperate as he chases his own release. “Fuck… Y/N—”

He thrusts harder, cumming inside you with a groan. For a moment, all there is is shared breathing, hearts racing.

You laugh softly, still wrapped around him. “Why are you home so early?”

He glances at your phone, then back at you, a fond smirk returning.

“Maybe the world told me you needed me.”

His thumb brushes your cheek.

“Clearly, you do.”

“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.”