nagi

You had been in love with Jay Park since the second year of high school.

It started as something quieter than a crush — a slow, warm pull every time he leaned over your desk to show you a riff on his phone, or when he'd wait for you after class with one earbud dangling, offering the other so you could listen to the same song.

He was always cool, a little sharp with his humor, but never cruel.

He remembered the small things: how you liked your coffee, the way you fiddled with your sleeves when you were nervous, the fact that you secretly wanted to learn guitar even though you were convinced your fingers were too clumsy.

Two months had passed since graduation, and the two of you had slipped into this strange new version of adulthood.

No more uniforms, no more bells dictating your day. just late nights, cheap takeout, and the growing tension that neither of you had named.

You told yourself it was just a silly, accumulation of caring over the years.

But lately it had become something heavier. needier.

Because it wasn't just his smile or the way he looked at you like he could read every thought behind your eyes.

It was the guitar lessons.

Every few nights you ended up in his room — that warm, low-lit sanctuary at the back of his aparment.

Soft golden lighting, the faint scent of his cologne mixed with wood polish and whatever bottle of wine he'd opened that evening.

He'd sit behind you on the bed or on that worn leather stool, chest brushing your back as he guided your fingers along the fretboard.

His voice would drop low when he corrected your posture, breath warm against your ear.

And every single time, you left that room wet, aching, and painfully aware of how badly you wanted more than just his hands on yours.

Tonight, that ache felt louder than usual.

The restaurant was still buzzing when you all stepped outside.

The four of you had taken over a corner table for nearly three hours — pasta plates half-empty, bottles of soju and beer scattered like evidence.

Heeseung had been the calm anchor as always, laughing deeply at Jake's ridiculous stories about his latest failed attempt at cooking.

Jake, true to form, had been loud and playful, teasing you about how red your cheeks got after your third glass.

"Alright, i'm tapping out" Heeseung said, stretching his arms above his head. he grinned at you and Jay. "you two heading back too?"

Jake slung an arm around your shoulders for a second, giving you a quick squeeze. "don't let Jay bore you to death with more guitar talk."

You laughed, the sound a little loose from the alcohol. "too late. i think i'm officially addicted."

Jay stood a step behind you, hands in the pockets of his dark jacket, watching the exchange with that trademark half-smirk.

He hadn't drunk much — maybe one beer the whole night. he never did when he knew he'd be the one making sure everyone got home safe.

"Get home safe, hyung" Jay told Heeseung, bumping fists. "Jake, stop burning your kitchen down."

Jake flipped him off playfully as he and Heeseung headed toward the main road to catch a cab. you waved until they disappeared around the corner, the streetlights catching their silhouettes.

And then it was just you and Jay.

It was barely past 9 PM, but the city had already slipped into that quieter, darker version of itself.

The restaurant sat on a side street lined with closed shops and a few scattered people hurrying home.

Neon signs flickered softly in the distance. your cheeks felt warm, the alcohol humming pleasantly in your veins, making everything feel a little softer around the edges.

Jay glanced at you, dark eyes scanning your face.

"You good?" he asked, voice low and steady. "you look a little flushed."

"I'm fine" you answered, maybe a touch too quickly.

You smiled up at him, feeling bolder than usual. "just… warm. and i don't really want to go home yet. my brothers are probably screaming at some video game right now. your place is quieter."

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. that familiar mix of amusement and something unreadable.

"You sure? i can drop you off. you drank more than usual tonight."

You stepped a little closer, the alcohol loosening your usual shyness. "i'm sure. i'd rather be with you."

The words came out softer than you meant them to, almost flirty. Jay's gaze lingered on you for a beat longer than normal before he nodded.

"Alright. let's go."

The walk to his place wasn't long.

Jay kept pace beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed every few steps. he didn't say much, but he was always like that — comfortable in silence.

Every once in a while he'd glance over to make sure you were steady on your feet.

When you finally reached his apartment, you stepped into his room, the familiar warmth settled over you like a blanket.

The lighting was exactly how he liked it: soft, gold tones from the tall floor lamp in the corner.

His acoustic guitar rested on its stand beside the electric one. a half-finished bottle of red wine sat on the low wooden table next to two clean glasses.

The small leather couch had a couple of blankets thrown over it, and the walls held photos — some of the group, some of just the two of you from random outings over the years.

It smelled like him: wood, faint cologne, and that subtle hint of wine that always seemed to linger here.

Jay shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the back of his chair.

"Sit" he said, nodding toward the couch. "i'll get you some water first. you're going to thank me tomorrow."

You dropped onto the couch, watching him move around the room with that effortless confidence.

Even after years of friendship, you never got tired of looking at him. the sharp line of his jaw, the way his black hair fell across his forehead, the casual way his shirt stretched across his shoulders.

He came back with a glass of cold water and handed it to you before pouring himself a small amount of wine.

"You're really not that drunk, are you?" you asked, teasing lightly as you sipped the water.

Jay chuckled, settling beside you on the couch. not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the heat of his body.

"I'm sober enough to know you're tipsy" he replied, voice smooth. "and sober enough to know you get chatty when you are."

You laughed softly, pulling your legs up onto the couch.

The alcohol made your thoughts swirl — memories of all those guitar lessons mixing with the deeper, filthier ones you tried to push down.

You'd been in love with him for years.

But lately, the need had grown teeth.

It wasn't just romantic anymore.

You wanted him.

Wanted his hands on you for reasons that had nothing to do with chord positions. wanted to know what his mouth felt like. wanted to taste him.

To have his cock in your mouth, heavy and warm, to hear the way his voice would break if you took him deep.

Not anyone else's. just Jay's.

Those thoughts had been getting louder since the lessons started two months ago.

Every time his fingers covered yours on the strings, every time his chest pressed against your back and he murmured instructions against your ear… you left his room throbbing, panties ruined, fingers slipping between your legs the second you got home.

And now here you were again, in his room, a little drunk, heart racing.

"Now you're quiet" Jay observed, tilting his head. his dark eyes studied you carefully. "what's going on in that head of yours?"

You bit your lip, feeling heat rise to your cheeks that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

"Just… thinking about how long we've been friends" you said, keeping your voice light. "feels weird sometimes. like we're actual adults now."

Jay hummed in agreement, taking a slow sip of wine. "yeah. but some things don't change." he glanced at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. "you still suck at guitar."

You gasped dramatically, shoving his shoulder. he laughed — that low, rich sound you loved — and caught your wrist gently before you could pull away.

"See? still easy to mess with."

His thumb brushed over the inside of your wrist, just once. the touch sent electricity straight down your spine. you didn't pull away.

The air between you felt thicker than usual. the golden lighting cast soft shadows across his face, making him look even more unfairly handsome. you could smell his cologne again, warm and familiar.

"Jay…" you started, not even sure what you wanted to say.

He raised an eyebrow, still holding your wrist loosely.

"Yeah?"

You swallowed. the need you’d been carrying for years — the filthy, aching want — sat heavy on your tongue. but you weren't brave enough yet.

Instead, you just smiled, shy but warm, and leaned your head against his shoulder like you'd done a hundred times before.

"I'm glad you're my best friend" you whispered.

Jay was quiet for a moment. then his hand shifted, resting lightly on your knee.

"Me too" he murmured.

But his fingers stayed there, warm through the fabric of your jeans, and neither of you moved to change the subject.

The night was still young, and the tension that had been building for years felt dangerously close to spilling over.

The water helped a little, but the alcohol still buzzed warmly through your system, making your limbs feel loose and your thoughts dangerously unguarded.

You watched Jay move across the room with that effortless grace he always had. he reached for one of his guitars, and your breath caught.

He picked up the acoustic — his prized custom-made gibson Vesper.

The instrument looked beautiful under the soft café-gold lighting: dark wood with elegant black binding, sleek and modern with a vampire-inspired design he'd once explained to you in detail.

It was his baby, the one he played when he wanted something intimate and warm-toned.

"I've been working on a new melody" he said casually, settling on the stool across from the couch. his long fingers wrapped around the neck of the Vesper like it was an extension of himself. "want to hear it?"

You nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. "yeah… show me."

He strummed a few soft chords first, then launched into the short piece. just five or six seconds of a smooth, melancholic melody that shifted into something warmer, almost seductive in its simplicity.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration, lips parted just a fraction as he focused. the way his fingers moved — precise, confident, pressing and sliding along the frets — made heat pool low in your stomach.

God, you didn't even know if you actually cared about learning guitar anymore.

Was it the music? or was it just him?

The way his forearms flexed, the focused set of his jaw, the way the warm light caught on his sharp cheekbones and made his dark hair look softer.

You wanted him so badly it embarrassed you sometimes.

Especially tonight, with the alcohol making your skin feel too hot and your inhibitions paper-thin.

In your head, the thoughts were already spiraling: kneeling between his legs, taking his cock into your mouth, tasting him, hearing that low voice of his break while you sucked him deep. not just any dick. his.

Jay finished the short melody and looked up, smirking when he saw your expression.

"Not bad, right?" he asked.

"It was beautiful" you said honestly, your voice a little breathy. "i love how it sounds on the Vesper."

He stood and walked over, offering you the guitar. "you know the basics now. let's try teaching you your first real short melody. nothing too crazy."

You took the Vesper carefully, the wood warm from his hands.

On the outside, you looked focused and innocent, adjusting the strap and sitting up straighter.

"Posture." Jay reminded you.

He moved behind you on the couch, one leg on either side of your body so he could reach around. his chest pressed lightly against your back as he corrected the angle of the guitar on your lap.

One hand settled on your shoulder to straighten your back, the other sliding down to adjust your left hand on the fretboard.

His touch was warm. deliberate.

You bit your lip hard without thinking, a quiet little sound escaping as his fingers covered yours, guiding them into position. the alcohol made it impossible to hide your reaction — your cheeks burned, your thighs pressed together instinctively.

Jay paused. you could feel him smirk against the side of your head.

"Easy there" he murmured, voice low and teasing near your ear. "don't break my strings with that death grip. or is the Vesper too much for you tonight?"

You let out a shaky laugh. "shut up. i'm trying."

He didn't move away immediately. his fingers stayed over yours a second longer than necessary, then he pulled back just enough to watch but remained close.

"Go ahead. start with the first four chords i showed you last time. slow."

You tried.

Your fingers felt clumsier than usual from the drinks, but you managed to hit the notes — not fluid, not pretty, but recognizable. better than a total beginner.

The Vesper's rich tone filled the room even with your imperfect playing.

Jay hummed approvingly. "not terrible. you're improving."

Then, out of nowhere, he dropped the bomb.

"So… how was that blind date with Sunghoon a week ago?"

Your fingers slipped. a horrible, discordant twang rang out from the guitar. you winced.

"Why are you asking about that?" you said quickly, glancing over your shoulder at him.

Jay shrugged, leaning back against the couch but still watching you closely. his expression was casual, but his eyes were sharp. "just curious. Jake mentioned Sunghoon told him you two… hooked up."

The room felt suddenly warmer. you stared down at the guitar, fingers frozen on the strings.

It was true.

You'd gone on that blind date desperate to convince yourself that your insane attraction to Jay was just horniness. just lack of sex.

Sunghoon was good-looking, you'd slept with him after a couple of drinks. the sex had been… fine. mechanically okay.

But it left you emptier than before. because all you could think about during and after was Jay. how you wished it was Jay's hands, Jay's mouth.

It had only made your filthy fantasies about your best friend worse.

You tried to play it off, strumming a few awkward notes that sounded completely off-key. "Jake needs to mind his own business. why is he such a gossip?"

Jay chuckled, that low, amused sound that always sent shivers down your spine. he reached over and gently corrected your finger placement again, his touch lingering.

"Because he's Jake. and you're avoiding the question."

You huffed, the alcohol making you bolder even as embarrassment burned your face. "it happened, okay? it was… whatever. not life-changing."

Jay raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by how flustered you were getting. "not life-changing? damn. poor Sunghoon. but ifeel like details are missing."

You shot him a look, trying to sound defensive. "i've grown up, you know. i'm not that irresponsible girl from high school who told you every dirty detail about her first time in graphic, disgusting detail anymore."

Jay laughed outright at that, leaning closer again. his breath brushed your neck.

"Oh yeah? because i remember that conversation very clearly. you did not hold back. 'it felt like a sad hot dog in a hallway' was the line that still lives rent-free in my head."

You groaned, covering your face with one hand while still awkwardly holding the guitar with the other. "i was drunk and stupid! and like… seventeen."

"You're still a little drunk tonight" he pointed out, voice teasing but softer. "and still oversharing, apparently."

The conversation hung between you, heavy with years of history. you tried to play again, but your notes kept clashing — messy, out of rhythm, completely unfocused.

Jay didn't stop you. he just watched, eyes dark and thoughtful under the warm lighting.

You sighed. "it was just an escape, Jay. i thought maybe if i… did something, it would quiet my head. but it didn't. it was okay, but… it wasn't..." you trailed off, not brave enough to finish that sentence.

It wasn't you.

Jay was quiet for a long moment. his hand came to rest on your lower back, a casual but intimate touch as he leaned in to adjust your right hand strumming position.

"You're thinking too hard" he said eventually, voice low. "that's why it sounds like the guitar is in pain."

You laughed despite yourself, the sound shaky.

Being this close to him, drunk, with his hands on you and your mind full of filthy thoughts about sucking him off right here in this room… it was torture.

The lesson continued like that for a while longer.

Jay guided you through the simple melody, patient even when your playing fell apart. every correction involved him touching you — fingers on yours, hand on your waist to fix posture, knee brushing your thigh.

Each touch sent sparks through your body.

At one point you shifted on the couch, and your thigh pressed firmly against his. you didn't move away. neither did he.

"You're really warm" he commented after a while, almost absentmindedly. "still feeling the drinks?"

"Yeah" you admitted, biting your lip again as his fingers guided yours into a new chord. "everything feels… a lot right now."

Jay hummed. his voice dropped lower. "i can tell."

The air in the room felt thicker.

And as Jay leaned in once more to correct your hand, his lips accidentally brushing the shell of your ear as he murmured instructions, you wondered how much longer you could keep pretending this was just about learning guitar.

The warmth of his breath sent a shiver racing down your spine. you froze, fingers stiffening on the frets of the Vesper.

The rich, dark wood of the guitar felt heavier in your lap now, like it knew the real reason your heart was hammering.

"I… i think i can't keep playing right now" you admitted, voice softer than you intended. the alcohol made your words feel thick on your tongue. "i'd love to, though. your Vesper sounds so beautiful. it's honestly such a pretty guitar. the tone is just… perfect."

Jay pulled back slightly, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. that sound — God, that sound — always did dangerous things to you.

He reached around you to gently take the guitar from your hands, his fingers brushing over yours one last time.

"Yeah? she's my favorite for a reason" he said, standing up with the instrument.

He walked over to the stand and carefully placed the custom Gibson Vesper back in its spot, adjusting it with the same care he always showed his things.

You watched him move, the soft golden lighting casting gentle shadows along his shoulders and arms.

The room felt smaller now. cozier. the faint scent of wine still lingered in the air, mixing with his cologne and the wood polish from his guitars.

He turned back to you, hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans. "it's getting late anyway. past eleven already. you're pretty drunk, and i'm not letting you go home like this. you can just stay over. saves time, and your brothers are probably still up causing chaos."

You let out a bright, tipsy laugh, the kind that came out a little too loud because of the alcohol. "yeah? okay. i'd like that. a lot, actually."

Jay's smirk deepened, but there was something softer behind it. "didn't even think twice, huh?"

"Nope" you said, popping the 'p' playfully.

He walked over to the built-in closet near the back of the room and pulled out clothes. two oversized t-shirts — one black, one dark gray — and a pair of soft black pajama shorts.

He held them out to you.

'Here. you can wear these. that dress looks cute but it's not exactly sleep-friendly. too cold in here at night if you're not covered up properly."

You stood up, a little unsteady, and took the clothes from him.

Your fingers brushed his, and you felt that familiar spark again. "thanks, Jay."

Before he could say anything else, you grabbed the bundle and slipped behind the heavy cream-colored curtain that separated the small changing corner from the rest of the room.

It was something he'd put up after one too many late-night study sessions when you'd crash here.

You heard him laugh quietly on the other side.

"Drunk you is way shyer than sober you" he teased, voice warm with amusement. "usually you just strip down in front of me like i'm not even here. claiming 'we're best friends, it doesn't matter.' but the second alcohol hits… curtain time."

You fumbled with the zipper of your dress, cheeks burning. "shut up. i'm being responsible."

"Responsible" he echoed, clearly not buying it. you could hear him moving around, already changing too. "sure."

"I am!" you called back, laughing as you pulled his t-shirt over your head. it smelled like him — clean laundry, faint cologne, and that comforting warmth that always made your stomach flip.

The shorts were a little loose on your hips, but they were soft and comfortable. "i've grown up. i'm not that chaotic high school girl anymore."

You stepped out from behind the curtain, adjusting the hem of the oversized shirt. and then you stopped dead.

Jay was in the middle of pulling his own shirt on.

He already had the gray pajama shorts on, hanging low on his hips, but his torso was still bare. the warm lighting highlighted every line of muscle on his chest and abdomen — the result of casual gym sessions.

His skin looked smooth, shoulders broad, that sharp V-line disappearing into the waistband of his shorts.

You let out a soft, involuntary exhale, almost a gasp. your heart skipped hard.

Jay noticed immediately. he tugged the shirt down quickly, but not before you got a full view.

His eyebrow arched, that signature smirk returning.

"Damn. you really are wasted tonight" he said, voice low and teasing as he stepped closer. "if you want, i can tie you up so you can control yourself better. keep those wandering eyes in check."

Your brain short-circuited for a second.

Yes. God, yes. tie me up. use me. anything.

The filthy thought flashed through your mind so fast it made you dizzy. but on the outside, you just let out a nervous laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly.

"Stop it" you mumbled, still smiling. "i'm fine. perfectly fine. just… surprised you're changing in the middle of the room, that's all."

He chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair. "this is my room. and you've seen me shirtless plenty of times. at the beach last summer, remember? or when we went swimming at Sunoo's parents' pool?"

"That was different" you muttered, walking over to the couch and dropping down onto it, pulling one of the soft blankets over your legs.

Your face felt hot. the alcohol wasn't helping you hide anything.

Jay followed, sitting on the other end of the couch but turning toward you. the room felt even more intimate now — just the two of you in comfortable clothes, the golden lights dimmed slightly, the faint sound of the city outside barely audible.

"So" he said after a moment, grabbing the half-empty bottle of water and taking a sip before offering it to you. "you really didn't enjoy it with Sunghoon?"

You groaned, covering your face with both hands. "we're back to this?"

"I'm curious" he said simply. "you're my best friend. if some guy didn't treat you right or couldn't make it good for you, i need to know. i'll kick his ass if necessary."

You peeked at him through your fingers. he looked genuinely relaxed, but there was that focused intensity in his eyes again — the same one he got when he was trying to read you.

"It wasn't bad" you said slowly, lowering your hands. "he was… nice. polite. good-looking, obviously. but it just felt… mechanical. like we were both going through the motions. i thought maybe sleeping with someone would help clear my head about certain things, but it only made it worse."

Jay tilted his head. "worse how?"

You shrugged, tracing patterns on the blanket with your finger.

Your mind was still swirling with images you couldn't say out loud —his low groans filling this exact room.

"Just… confirmed some stuff" you said vaguely. "that i'm probably not built for casual stuff. my brain gets too loud."

Jay was quiet for a beat. then he shifted closer, stretching his arm along the back of the couch until his fingers lightly brushed your shoulder again.

"You've always been like that" he murmured. "even back in high school. you overthink everything. except when you're telling me way too many details about your personal life."

You laughed, the sound breathy. "i was young and stupid. and you were the only person i trusted enough to say that stuff to."

"Still am?" he asked, voice quieter now.

You met his eyes. the tension between you felt alive, humming under the surface. "yeah. still you."

The silence stretched comfortably. Jay eventually stood up. he grabbed another blanket and tossed it over you before settling back down — closer this time, so your legs were almost touching.

"Remember when we first became friends?" he asked suddenly, staring at the ceiling. "you used to sit there during lunch, pretending you weren't listening to me play. i thought you were cute. shy, but cute."

Your heart fluttered. "i had the biggest crush on you for like… two years before i even admitted it to myself."

Jay turned his head to look at you, surprise flickering across his face for a split second before that cool mask returned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah" you whispered, the alcohol making you honest. "but you were always so… you. cool. talented. out of reach. so i settled for being your best friend instead."

He didn't answer right away. instead, he reached over and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. his touch lingered.

"You're not out of reach to me" he said softly.

The words hung heavy in the air. your body felt warm all over — from the drinks, from his proximity, from years of wanting.

You turned onto your side to face him better, the blanket slipping down slightly.

"Jay… can i ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Have you ever… thought about me like that? more than just a friend?"

He was quiet for a long moment, dark eyes studying your face. then he gave you that half-smirk again, the one that made your knees weak.

"I'm not drunk enough to answer that tonight."

You laughed, but there was nervous excitement bubbling inside you. "coward."

"Maybe" he said, chuckling. "or maybe i'm just responsible. one of us has to be when the other is this tipsy."

You spent the next hour talking like that — about old memories, stupid fights you had in high school, the group chats with Heeseung and Jake that always got chaotic, how weird it felt to be actual adults now.

Eventually, you both were in bed under thin blankets.

Jay's voice was low and soothing. every once in a while his hand would brush your arm, casual touches that felt anything but.

At some point you shifted, and your head ended up resting against his chest.

He didn't push you away. instead, his arm came around you, holding you loosely.

"You're warm" you mumbled sleepily, the alcohol finally catching up to you fully.

"So are you" he replied, voice barely above a whisper.

Your mind kept drifting back to filthy places even as sleep pulled at you — imagining sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts, tasting his skin, hearing him say your name in that deep tone.

But for now, you let yourself enjoy the closeness. the safety.

Jay's fingers traced slow patterns on your back through the t-shirt.

"Get some sleep" he murmured against the top of your head. "we'll talk more in the morning. when you're sober."

You nodded, eyes already closing.

But even as you drifted off, safe in his arms in the soft golden light of his room, you knew one thing for certain:

Pretending was getting harder and harder.

You lay there for what felt like forever, curled against his side under the soft blanket, but sleep refused to come.

The alcohol had loosened your body, but your mind was wide awake, buzzing with years of suppressed feelings and the heavy warmth of Jay's arm draped loosely around you.

Every small shift of his body, every steady breath he took, made your skin prickle with awareness.

Jay wasn't sleeping either. you knew him too well — he never could fully relax until he knew you were safe and asleep. it was one of those quiet protective habits he'd had since high school.

With a soft sigh, you sat up slowly, the oversized t-shirt slipping slightly off one shoulder. you stayed close, your thigh still pressed against his.

Jay shifted beside you, propping himself up on one elbow. his dark hair was slightly messy, and his eyes scanned your face with that familiar sharpness.

"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly.

You shook your head. "too many thoughts."

He hummed in understanding but didn't push. for a moment, comfortable silence settled between you again. then you spoke, the alcohol still giving you just enough courage.

"You know… i doubt Jake would've randomly told you about Sunghoon unless you asked him first." you turned your head to look at him directly. "so why the curiosity, Jay?"

Jay let out a slow sigh, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the ceiling for a second. when he looked back at you, his expression was calm but serious.

"Because you're my best friend" he said simply. "it's my job to look out for you. to make sure no dickhead hurts you, gets your hopes up, or leaves you feeling like shit afterward. i've been doing that since we were in secondary school. nothing's changed."

You fell quiet, processing his words.

The weight of them sat heavy in your chest. his protection had always felt safe… but lately it felt like something more. something that made your stomach twist in confusing, needy ways.

Jay noticed your silence. he tilted his head slightly. "why are you thinking about all of this right now? you know i worry about you. that's not new."

You bit your lip, fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. "i guess… i've been wondering lately if i've ever mistaken your protection for something else. like… possessiveness."

Jay stared at you for a beat, then let out a low, genuine laugh — the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

He sat up fully now, swinging his legs so he was facing you directly. the movement brought him much closer, your knees nearly touching, his presence suddenly filling your space.

"Possessiveness?" he repeated, still chuckling in disbelief. "you're way too drunk to be throwing words like that around."

You met his gaze, your heart beating faster. "i'm drunk, but i'm sober enough to notice that you're the one acting weird tonight."

Jay laughed again, softer this time, shaking his head. "me? weird?"

He leaned in a little, voice dropping. "you're the one whose breathing keeps changing every time i get close. the one who keeps pressing your thighs together when my hand brushes your arm or when i fix your posture during lessons. you think i don't notice?"

Your mouth went dry. heat flooded your cheeks.

He was right — painfully right. you'd been doing exactly that for the past two months during every guitar session. and tonight, with the alcohol stripping away your filters, it was impossible to hide.

You stayed silent for a long moment, just looking at him. then you put on that fake-innocent expression you knew he could see right through — wide eyes, slight tilt of your head.

"If you know all of that… why don't you do anything about it?"

The question hung in the air like smoke. Jay's smirk faded into something more intense, more focused. his dark eyes searched yours carefully.

"Because i'd never do anything you haven't asked for" he said, voice low and steady. "not with you. never."

Your face grew hotter. you could feel the blush spreading down your neck.

The tension in the room thickened, wrapping around both of you. you were hyper-aware of everything: the way his bare arm looked under the golden light, the faint scent of his skin mixed with the laundry detergent on the t-shirt he was wearing, how close his mouth was if you just leaned forward a few inches.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "and if i did ask… would you give it to me?"

Jay didn't answer with words right away.

Instead, he reached out slowly, his fingers gently brushing your hair away from your face before tucking it carefully behind your ear.

The touch was light, but it sent electricity racing across your skin. His hand lingered there for a second, thumb grazing your cheekbone.

Then he nodded. once. slow and deliberate.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

The simple gesture and that quiet confirmation made your stomach flip violently.

In your mind, the thoughts rushed in unfiltered — filthy, desperate images of his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, finally giving in to what you'd wanted for years. but you stayed still, letting the tension stretch.

Jay's eyes stayed locked on yours, calm but burning with something deeper. he didn't move closer or pull away. he just waited, giving you the space to decide what came next.

"You're really going to make me say it out loud, huh?" you murmured, a nervous little smile tugging at your lips.

He smirked again, that trademark Jay confidence returning. "i'm not assuming anything with you. i've known you too long. if this is what you want, you're going to have to be clear."

You let out a shaky breath, shifting slightly on the bed.

Your thigh pressed more firmly against his. neither of you moved away.

"I've wanted this for so long" you admitted quietly, the alcohol and years of repression loosening your tongue.

"Not just tonight. since we were in high school. every time you taught me guitar… every time we'd end up here talking until 3 a.m.… it's been driving me crazy."

Jay listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable but his body language open.

He moved one hand on the bed near your leg, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him.

"You hid it well" he said eventually, voice rougher than before. "most of the time."

"Guess i'm not hiding it anymore."

He chuckled softly. "No. you're really not."

Another stretch of heavy silence. your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second before flicking back up. Jay noticed, of course.

He always noticed.

"You're nervous" he observed, not teasing this time. just stating it. "your pulse is going crazy right here." his fingers lightly touched the side of your neck, feeling your heartbeat.

You didn't deny it. instead, you leaned into his touch just slightly.

"I'm nervous because it's you" you whispered. "because if we do this… it changes everything."

Jay's thumb brushed slowly along your jaw. "it doesn't have to. not unless we want it to."

His words were careful, responsible — so typically Jay.

Even now, when the air between you crackled with years of built-up desire, he was still thinking about protecting what you had. it only made you want him more.

You stayed like that for a while longer, talking in low voices.

Every small movement — your fingers brushing his arm — felt loaded.

The tension was thick enough to taste. your body ached with it, a deep, warm need that had been growing for years, sharpened by every guitar lesson, every late-night conversation, every moment you'd spent pretending.

But still, you didn't cross the line. not yet.

The silence between you stretched, thick and electric. your heart hammered so hard you were sure he could hear it.

The soft lighting in Jay's room wrapped around both of you like a secret, making every small movement feel heavier than it should.

You shifted closer on the bed, moving until you were on your knees beside him.

Jay was leaning back against the pillows in a way that left space — deliberate space. if you wanted to climb on him, kiss him, do anything… he wouldn't pull away. his dark eyes followed you calmly, patient as always.

"You don't have to feel any pressure" he said quietly, voice low and steady. "even Heeseung and Jake noticed. they've been telling me for weeks how obviously into me you are. i couldn't exactly deny feeling it too… but i didn't want to make things weird between us."

His honesty hit you hard. you leaned in slowly and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering there for a second. his skin was warm under your lips.

"I don't want things to get uncomfortable either" you whispered against his cheek. "if we do this… if something happens… i promise i can pretend it never did. until we figure out how we really feel. no pressure on you either.”

Jay nodded once, then shifted back until he was leaning against the headboard of his bed.

The blankets were rumpled around you both.

You hesitated only a moment longer before swinging one leg over his lap and settling yourself straddling him.

The oversized t-shirt you wore rode up your thighs slightly as you sat down. Jay's hands came up naturally to rest on your waist — steady, supportive, but respectful.

His fingers didn't wander lower. he simply held you there, giving you balance without pushing for more.

For a few seconds, neither of you spoke. you were both breathing a little heavier. your hands rested on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart under the thin fabric of his shirt.

You traced small, nervous circles with your fingertips, exploring the firm muscle you'd stared at so many times during those guitar lessons.

Jay watched you closely, that cool, observant expression still on his face even now.

"You've been thinking about this for a long time, haven't you?" he murmured.

You nodded, biting your lip. your hands slid slowly up his chest to his shoulders, then back down again, feeling the warmth of him through the shirt. "yeah… especially during those lessons. every time you sat behind me… every time your hands were on mine…"

You leaned forward and kissed his other cheek, then the corner of his jaw. your fingers kept moving, sliding over his collarbones, down his arms, learning the shape of him like you'd wanted to for years.

Jay's grip on your waist tightened just slightly — not enough to control, just enough to show he was affected.

"You have no idea how hard it's been keeping my hands where they belong during those lessons" he said, voice dropping lower, a little rougher around the edges.

"Sitting that close to you, feeling you react every time i touch your fingers… knowing you're getting wet just from that. it's been driving me fucking crazy too."

Your breath hitched at his words. the slight dirty edge to them — so rare from him — sent heat rushing through your whole body. you pressed your palms flat against his chest again, feeling how his breathing had changed.

"I want you to teach me what good sex feels like, Jay" you finally whispered, the words spilling out shy but honest.

Your face burned as you said it, but you didn't look away.

Jay's eyes darkened, but he still held himself back. his thumbs brushed slow, soothing circles on your waist over the t-shirt.

"You're sure?" he asked, even now checking. "we can stop anytime. this doesn't change anything if you don't want it to."

"I'm sure" you breathed.

You leaned in and finally kissed him properly.

The first kiss was soft — tentative, testing.

His lips were warm and surprisingly gentle against yours. then you tilted your head a little more, deepening it, and Jay responded with a low hum that vibrated through his chest.

One of his hands stayed firmly on your waist while the other came up to cup the back of your neck, not pulling, just supporting.

You kissed him again, slower this time, savoring it. your hands grew bolder, sliding under the hem of his shirt to touch bare skin.

You traced the lines of his abs, feeling the way his stomach tensed under your fingertips. Jay let out a quiet breath against your mouth when your nails grazed lightly over his skin.

"Fuck..." he muttered between kisses, voice husky. "you've been holding back a lot, haven't you? all those times you sat in this room acting innocent while your mind was somewhere filthy…"

You smiled shyly against his lips, still that mix of timid and needy. "Maybe."

Your hands kept exploring — running up his back, feeling the muscle there, then back to his chest.

You could feel how hard his heart was beating. you shifted slightly in his lap, not grinding, just adjusting closer, and Jay's fingers flexed on your waist.

He kissed you again, a little deeper this time, his tongue brushing yours carefully. when you pulled back for air, he rested his forehead against yours.

"You're shaking" he observed quietly, always noticing everything. "still nervous?"

"A little" you admitted, your fingers still tracing patterns on his chest under his shirt. "but i want this. i've wanted it for so long."

Jay's hand slid up your back in a slow, comforting stroke. "then we take it slow. i'm not rushing anything with you."

His voice dropped again, that slight dirty tone returning. "even if i've thought about bending you over that guitar stool more times than i should admit."

Your face flushed hot. you kissed him again to hide your embarrassment, hands cupping his face now.

The kiss grew heavier, more urgent, but Jay kept control — never letting his hands move lower than your waist, never pushing your hips down against him.

You broke the kiss and pressed your face into his neck, breathing him in as your fingers continued their slow exploration of his torso.

You could feel him getting hard beneath you, but he made no move to do anything about it.

"Tell me what you've thought about" you whispered against his skin, shy but curious.

Jay let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your cheek. "you really want to hear that right now?"

You nodded, kissing his neck softly.

He exhaled slowly. "a lot of nights after you left these lessons… i thought about how pretty you look when you're concentrated. how your breathing changes when i get close. thought about what sounds you'd make if i finally touched you properly instead of pretending it was just about guitar chords."

Your thighs squeezed instinctively around his hips. Jay noticed but didn't comment on it, just kept talking in that low, controlled voice.

"I've wondered how you'd taste" he added, almost casually. "how you'd look sitting on my lap like this, trying so hard to stay quiet because your brothers might hear if we were at your house."

You let out a shaky breath, your hands tightening on his shoulders.

The tension was almost unbearable now — heavy, aching, delicious. you kissed him again, deeper, your body pressing closer against his chest while your hands roamed freely under his shirt.

Jay kissed you back with the same measured intensity, one hand still steady on your waist, the other gently threading through your hair. he was hard beneath you, you could feel it clearly, but he remained the same Jay — cool-headed, teasing even now.

"You're going to kill me if you keep touching me like that" he murmured against your lips, a hint of a smirk in his voice. "those hands have been driving me insane for months."

You smiled, a little breathless, and kissed the corner of his mouth. "good. because you've been doing the same to me every single lesson."

The two of you stayed like that for a long time — kissing slowly, touching carefully, talking in low voices between heated moments.

The world outside felt far away. years of friendship and hidden desire were finally cracking open, but still slowly, still safely.

Jay pulled back after one particularly long kiss, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Still okay?" he asked, eyes searching yours.

You nodded, leaning in to kiss him again.

Neither of you were ready to stop yet. the night was young, the tension was perfect, and for the first time, you weren't pretending anymore.

You kept kissing him, deeper now, with a hunger that surprised even you. despite the innocent, pure look on your face — wide eyes, flushed cheeks — any shyness had melted away under the heat of the alcohol and years of built-up need.

Your hands moved with purpose, sliding down Jay's chest, over his stomach, until you boldly palmed the obvious bulge straining against his gray pajama shorts.

Jay let out a sharp breath against your mouth, then another low sigh as your fingers rubbed him slowly through the fabric. je was hard, thick, and warm under your touch. you didn't hesitate, stroking him with more confidence, feeling him twitch under your palm.

"Fuck…" he muttered between kisses, his voice rougher.

He finally broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look down between your bodies.

There you were — straddling him, hand shamelessly rubbing his erection right beneath where you sat. his dark eyes darkened further.

"You're not playing around tonight, huh?" he said, voice low and slightly amused, but clearly affected.

You leaned in closer, lips brushing his ear, your voice needy and breathless. "i need you so bad right now, Jay… please. i want you to fuck me."

Jay let out a short, surprised laugh, the sound husky. "then take all your clothes off" he said, half-joking, half-challenging, that signature teasing tone still there even now.

But you were too far gone.

Without hesitation, you sat back on his thighs and pulled the oversized t-shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest. then you lifted your hips and slid the pajama shorts down your legs, kicking them aside until you were left in just your panties.

Your skin felt hot under his gaze.

Jay cursed under his breath — a low, impressed "shit…" — as his eyes raked over your body. his hands stayed respectful on your waist for a moment longer before he helped steady you.

"Come here" he murmured, pulling you back onto his lap properly.

The kissing resumed, hotter this time.

Your hand returned to stroking him through his shorts while his mouth moved from your lips to your jaw, then down your neck.

He sucked lightly on your skin, not enough to leave marks yet, but enough to make you whimper softly.

You ground against his bulge slowly, feeling the friction through the thin layers separating you. Jay's breathing grew heavier, his hands finally sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts.

"You've been hiding this body from me during all those lessons?" he said against your neck, voice low and a little dirty. "sitting there acting all innocent while i was trying not to think about how you'd look like this… straddling me, touching my cock like you own it."

You moaned softly at his words, your hand squeezing him firmer. "i thought about it every time."

Jay kissed you hard again, then shifted both of you. he moved you off his lap gently and stood up, quickly pulling his own shirt off and dropping his shorts.

His cock sprang free — hard, flushed, and bigger than you'd imagined in your filthiest thoughts. he was smooth, well-kept, the head already glistening.

He sat back down against the headboard and pulled you back on top, but this time he guided you into a different position.

He turned you so you were facing away from him, your back to his chest, straddling his lap in reverse.

"Like this" he said quietly, voice steady but thick with want. "i want to feel you."

His hands settled on your hips, guiding you as you lowered yourself.

He didn't enter you yet — instead, he pulled your panties to the side and slid his cock between your folds, letting you grind along his length. the heat of him against your wet pussy made you gasp.

You leaned back against his chest, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you steady while his other hand reached down to rub slow circles on your clit.

His mouth was right by your ear, breathing warm against it.

"Slow" he reminded you, always in some control. "we've got all night."

You rocked your hips, sliding along his cock, coating him with how wet you were.

Jay groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your back. he kept rubbing your clit with practiced fingers, occasionally squeezing your breast with his free hand, rolling your nipple gently.

"Feel how hard you made me?" he murmured, lips brushing your ear. "all those guitar lessons… you sitting between my legs, biting your lip every time i touched you. i wanted to pull you back against me just like this."

You moaned, moving faster against him. Jay adjusted his grip, lifting you slightly before finally guiding the head of his cock to your entrance.

"Ready?" he asked, checking one last time.

"Yes" you breathed.

He lowered you slowly onto him, inch by inch.

The stretch was perfect — full, deep, overwhelming in the best way.

When he bottomed out, both of you let out shaky breaths. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust, his arm tight around your waist, the other hand still between your legs rubbing your clit.

Then he started moving.

He thrust up into you in a steady rhythm, deep and controlled.

You braced your hands on his thighs, leaning forward slightly as you rode him in reverse, matching his pace.

The position let him hit deep with every roll of his hips, his cock dragging against that perfect spot inside you.

Jay's breathing was ragged now, but his voice stayed low near your ear. "that's it… just like that. you feel so fucking good."

His hand on your clit never stopped, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

The other hand gripped your hip, guiding you down onto him harder.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the warm room, mixed with your soft moans and his occasional low groans.

You leaned further forward, hands on his knees for leverage, bouncing on his cock while he thrust up to meet you. Jay cursed again, the view from behind clearly affecting him.

"Look at you" he said, voice strained but still teasing. "taking me so well after wanting it for years…"

The pleasure built fast — the angle, his fingers on your clit, the deep thrusts.

Your thighs started trembling. Jay noticed, as always, and wrapped his arm tighter around you, holding you close as he fucked you through it.

Your back arching against his chest, a broken moan leaving your lips. Jay kept moving, slower now, drawing it out, murmuring quiet praise against your neck.

He didn't stop completely. after you caught your breath, he guided you to lean all the way forward, chest almost to the bed, still connected.

He sat up straighter behind you, hands on your hips as he thrust deeper, faster, chasing his own release.

The position was intense — you face down, ass up, Jay behind you thrusting with controlled power. his hands roamed your back, occasionally gripping your hair lightly to pull you back against him.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight" he groaned.

You pushed back against him, meeting every thrust. Jay's pace grew more urgent, but he never lost that cool edge — always making sure you were okay, his hands soothing even as he fucked you harder.

You kept moving on him, rolling your hips in a slow, needy rhythm as you rode Jay in reverse.

Your back was pressed against his chest, his cock buried deep inside you with every downward motion.

The stretch felt incredible, and the position let you feel every inch of him. your hands gripped his thighs for balance while his arm stayed wrapped around your waist, the other hand still teasing your clit with slow, deliberate circles.

But Jay had other plans.

His hands slid to your hips, gripping firmly but not harshly.

With a low murmur against your ear — "let me take over for a bit" — he guided you forward. you leaned down, hands bracing on the bed as he smoothly shifted your body off his lap and onto all fours. the transition was fluid, his cock slipping out for just a second before he positioned himself behind you.

Your hips stayed high, ass up, while your chest and face pressed down into the mattress.

The soft sheets muffled your heavy breathing as Jay knelt behind you.

He reached forward, gathering both of your arms gently but decisively, pulling them behind your lower back. he held your wrists together with one hand, limiting your movement without being overly restrictive.

His grip was secure, controlling, but still careful — classic Jay.

"Fuck… Jay…" you moaned loudly, the sound shameless and needy.

Your voice echoed in the warm room, much louder than you'd ever been with anyone else. "it feels so deep like this…"

He rubbed the head of his cock along your soaked folds for a moment, teasing, before pushing back inside you in one smooth, deep thrust.

You cried out, face buried in the mattress as your ass stayed arched high for him.

Jay started moving — deep and fast, but not brutal.

Each thrust was powerful and controlled, hitting that perfect spot inside you with precision. the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, steady and rhythmic.

"Shit, listen to you" he said, voice low and slightly amused even now.

"You're so loud tonight. all those years pretending to be shy during our lessons… and now you're moaning like this with your face in my bed."

You whimpered loudly in response, unable to hold back. "i can't help it… you're so deep— ahh!" another loud moan tore from your throat as he thrust particularly deep, holding it there for a second before resuming his pace.

Jay kept your wrists pinned at your lower back with one hand while his other hand reached up and gathered your hair.

He didn't yank it — he simply held it firmly, using it as leverage to keep your head down against the mattress while he fucked you. the gentle tug on your scalp sent sparks through your body.

"That's it" he murmured, breathing heavier but still composed. "keep that ass up for me. you feel incredible like this… so wet. been thinking about this view for months every time you left my room."

Your moans grew louder, unrestrained. every deep thrust pushed a new sound out of you — high-pitched whimpers mixed with desperate gasps and full moans.

Your hips pushed back against him instinctively, meeting his rhythm as much as his grip on your wrists allowed.

"Jay— oh god, right there— fuck" you cried out, voice breaking. Your face stayed pressed into the sheets, cheek turned to the side, eyes half-closed in pleasure.

He leaned forward slightly, chest closer to your back, changing the angle just enough to make you see stars.

His thrusts never faltered — consistent, deep, fast enough to make your thighs shake but never rough enough to cross into discomfort.

"You're squeezing me so tight" he groaned near your ear, voice rough but still that familiar Jay tone — teasing underneath the lust. "all that tension from the guitar lessons finally coming out, huh?… you were this wet thinking about me fucking you like this?"

"Yes— fuck" you moaned loudly, almost sobbing into the mattress.

Your body rocked forward with each thrust, but Jay's hold on your wrists and hair kept you exactly where he wanted you. "i need more… please don't stop—"

He didn't.

He kept the pace steady, fucking you thoroughly.

Minutes passed like this — long, drawn-out, filthy minutes filled with the wet sounds of your bodies connecting and your increasingly loud moans. Jay would occasionally slow down to grind deep inside you, letting you feel every inch, before picking up speed again.

After a while, he released your wrists but only to adjust your position further.

He gently pushed your upper body fully down onto the bed, guiding you into a prone-bone angle — your hips still tilted up, legs slightly spread, chest and face pressed flat against the mattress.

He moved with you, covering your back with his chest as he slid back inside.

This new position felt even deeper. Jay's weight pressed you into the bed as he thrust down into you, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other braced beside your head for support.

"Still good?" he asked between thrusts, voice low and caring even as he fucked you harder. "tell me if it's too much."

"It's— ah... it's perfect— Jay, fuck" your voice was loud and broken, moans spilling out continuously now.

The mattress muffled some of them, but not enough. you were loud, needy, completely lost in the sensation.

Jay let out a low chuckle that turned into a groan as you clenched around him. "you're going to wake up the whole house if you keep moaning like that. not that i mind… i like hearing how much you need this."

He kept the rhythm deep and fast, hips snapping against your ass with controlled power.

The angle made his cock drag perfectly against your g-spot with every stroke. his hand in your hair kept you grounded, his lips occasionally brushing your shoulder or the back of your neck as he fucked you.

"You're doing so well" he murmured, voice husky against your ear. "my best friend moaning my name while i fuck her exactly how she needs."

"Jay— please…" you whined loudly, pushing your hips back as much as the position allowed. your hands gripped the sheets tightly, body trembling from the sustained pleasure.

He kept going, deep, fast, relentless but never rough.

Always observant — adjusting when your moans pitched higher, slowing for a few strokes when your thighs shook too much, then building the pace again.

Jay kept his steady, deep rhythm, fucking you thoroughly from behind while you stayed pressed into the mattress. your loud moans continued filling the room without filter — raw, needy, and unrestrained.

But he wasn't done changing things up.

He slowed his thrusts gradually, then pulled out carefully.

Before you could protest the sudden emptiness, he flipped you onto your back with strong but gentle hands.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he was between your legs again, spreading them wide and settling on top of you.

This time, though, he hooked both of your legs over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half.

Your hips lifted off the bed as he leaned forward, bringing his face close to yours. the new angle made everything feel impossibly deeper.

"Jay— fuck—" you moaned loudly as he pushed back inside you in one smooth motion.

Your voice cracked with pleasure, eyes fluttering. "it's so deep like this… i can feel everything—"

He braced his hands on either side of your head, his dark eyes locked on your face as he started moving again. deep, fast strokes that made your breasts bounce with every thrust.

Your legs trembled over his shoulders, ankles near his ears.

Jay's expression stayed focused — that cool, controlled look mixed with clear desire.

He wasn't being rough, but the way he drove into you was relentless, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

"Look at me" he said, voice low and a little strained. "want to see your face while i fuck you."

You tried, but another loud moan tore from your throat as he ground deep inside you, rolling his hips in a way that made your toes curl. "ah— Jay, right there— don't stop—"

Your hands flew up to grip his arms, nails digging into his biceps as he held you folded beneath him.

The position left you completely exposed, hips tilted up, taking every inch of his cock with each thrust.

You were so loud now — moaning, whimpering, gasping his name repeatedly.

The sounds bounced off the walls of his warm-lit room.

Jay leaned down further, almost bending you in half, and kissed you messily.

His tongue slid against yours as he kept thrusting, the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder. when he pulled back, his breathing was heavier.

"You're so fucking loud tonight" he murmured against your lips, a hint of that teasing smirk appearing even now.

"I can't— ah, it feels too good—" you cried out, head falling back against the pillows.

Your face was flushed, lips parted, eyes glassy with pleasure. every deep thrust pushed a new moan out of you. "Jay… Jay, please— it's so much—”

He kept the pace fast and deep, hips snapping forward with controlled power.

The angle made his cock drag perfectly against your g-spot on every stroke. one of his hands moved down to rub your clit again, adding another layer of overwhelming sensation.

You were a mess beneath him — legs over his shoulders, body folded, moaning shamelessly loud with every movement.

Your hands roamed his back, scratching lightly down his skin as pleasure built higher and higher.

"Fuck, you feel perfect" Jay groaned, voice rough but still composed.

He kissed your neck, sucking lightly as he continued thrusting. "been wanting to have you like this for so long. all spread out, taking me so well… moaning my name like you can't get enough."

"I can't— i really can't—" you sobbed-moaned, voice breaking. your hips tried to move to meet his thrusts, but the position left you mostly at his mercy. "it's so deep, Jay… i'm so close already—"

He immediately slowed his pace just enough to keep you on the edge without pushing you over, drawing out the moment. His thrusts became long, deliberate strokes — pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in deep and grinding against you.

"Not yet" he said softly, almost teasing. "we're not done."

He changed the angle slightly, pressing your thighs further back as he leaned over you.

The new depth made you cry out even louder, your voice echoing in the room. Jay's hand stayed on your clit, rubbing slow circles while he fucked you with those deep, fast strokes.

Sweat glistened on both your bodies under the soft brown-gold lighting. Jay's hair fell messily over his forehead as he watched your face, always observant, always checking your reactions.

"Every time I hit this spot right here—" he thrust deep and ground against you to emphasize, making you moan loudly again. "—you get even wetter. you really did want this bad, didn't you?"

"Yes— god, yes— i've wanted you for years—" you gasped, voice loud and broken.

Your hands gripped his shoulders tighter as another wave of pleasure washed over you, keeping you right on the edge.

Jay kept going, deep and fast, but always controlled. he would lean down to kiss you messily every so often, swallowing some of your loud moans before pulling back to watch you again.

His hand never left your clit, building the tension higher without letting it break.

After a while, he lowered your legs from his shoulders but kept them spread wide. he stayed on top, chest pressed to yours in a more classic missionary, but still deep and intense.

His hips rolled against yours in a steady rhythm, grinding deep with every thrust.

"Still okay?" he asked between strokes, always the caring one even now.

"So okay— fuck, Jay, it feels amazing—" you moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper.

The room filled with the sounds of your loud, needy moans, his low groans, and the wet rhythm of your bodies moving together.

Jay kept the pace deep and fast, drawing it out, making the pleasure last as long as possible.

He kissed your neck, your jaw, your lips — mixing tenderness with the raw intensity of how he was fucking you.

His hand occasionally slid up to hold one of your wrists above your head, not pinning hard, just keeping you in place while he drove into you.

"You sound so pretty when you're this loud" he whispered against your ear, voice rough. "moaning for your best friend like this… after all this time."

Your response was another loud, broken moan as he hit that perfect angle again.

The tension kept building, higher and higher, but Jay expertly kept you both teetering right on the edge — not letting either of you fall over just yet.

You were right on the edge.

Your body was shaking underneath Jay, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he fucked you deep and steady. your moans had become desperate, broken cries that filled the entire room.

"Jay— i'm so close— please, i'm gonna cum—" you gasped loudly, your voice cracking with need. your nails dug into his back as the pressure built unbearably tight inside you.

But Jay suddenly slowed down, then stopped moving completely, buried to the hilt inside you. he held perfectly still, breathing heavily against your neck.

"Not yet" he murmured, voice low and composed, that teasing control still fully intact. "you're not cumming yet."

You let out a loud, frustrated whine, trying to roll your hips up desperately, but he pinned you down with his weight, refusing to give you the last bit of friction you needed.

"Jay… please…" you begged, voice needy and loud. "i was so close—"

He kissed the corner of your mouth softly, then slowly pulled out of you, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness.

Your pussy throbbed painfully, slick and desperate.

Jay moved down your body with deliberate calmness. he spread your legs wide, settling between them on his stomach.

His dark eyes looked up at your flushed, innocent-looking face as he wrapped his strong arms around your thighs, holding you open for him.

"Since you're being so loud and impatient" he said, voice husky but still teasing, "i'm going to taste you instead. but you still don't get to cum until i say so."

Before you could respond, Jay leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up your soaked folds.

You moaned loudly, back arching off the bed at the sudden intense pleasure.

"Fuck— Jay—"

He took his time, exploring you with his mouth like he had all night. his tongue moved in slow, broad strokes from your entrance up to your clit, savoring how wet you were.

Then he circled your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue, applying just enough pressure to keep you right on the edge without pushing you over.

You were loud — extremely loud. your moans echoed shamelessly in his warm-lit room as he ate you out.

"Oh my god— Jay… that feels so good—" you cried out, one hand flying down to grip his hair. your hips tried to buck against his face, but his strong arms kept your thighs firmly pinned down, controlling your movements.

Jay hummed against your pussy, the vibration making you whimper even louder.

He alternated between long, slow licks and focused sucking on your clit, occasionally dipping his tongue inside you. his technique was precise and confident — typical Jay, even in this.

"You taste even better than i imagined" he murmured against your wet skin, voice slightly muffled. "all those guitar lessons… and i had no idea how sweet this pretty pussy was."

You moaned brokenly, head thrown back against the pillows. "Jay— please— i need to cum so bad— i can't take it—"

He ignored your begging and continued devouring you.

His tongue flicked rapidly over your clit for a few seconds, then slowed down again, edging you mercilessly.

Every time your thighs started trembling harder and your moans pitched higher, he would pull back slightly, kissing your inner thighs or blowing cool air on your sensitive folds until the orgasm threat faded just enough.

You were a complete mess — loud, desperate, and dripping.

"Ah! Jay— your tongue feels too good—" you sobbed, voice hoarse from how much you'd been moaning. your free hand gripped the sheets tightly beside you, knuckles turning white.

Jay slid two fingers inside you slowly while his mouth focused on your clit, curling them upward to press against that sensitive spot. the combination made you cry out even louder, almost screaming his name.

"Jay— fuck— i'm so close again— please let me cum this time—"

But he pulled his fingers out and slowed his tongue once more, denying you for the third time.

You let out a loud, frustrated whimper, tears of overwhelming pleasure pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"Not yet" he repeated calmly, kissing your clit softly. "i want you shaking for me first."

He buried his face deeper between your legs, sucking your clit into his mouth while his tongue flicked rapidly.

The wet, obscene sounds of him eating you out mixed with your loud, broken moans. he kept you spread wide, completely exposed, as he worked you over with expert patience.

Minutes passed like this — long, torturous minutes of Jay's mouth on your pussy.

He would bring you right to the brink with fast, focused licks and suction, then slow down to lazy, broad strokes that kept the pleasure simmering without exploding.

Your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, thighs trembling uncontrollably around his head.

"You're dripping all over my chin" he murmured, voice low and slightly dirty. "such a messy girl tonight. and still trying so hard to be quiet when we both know you can't."

"I'm not— i can't be quiet— Jay, please—" you moaned, almost incoherently now.

He slid his fingers back inside you, fucking you slowly with them while his tongue circled your clit.

The dual sensation had you seeing stars, right on the edge once again.

Your voice was getting hoarser, your moans desperate, needy sobs as he continued edging you with his mouth for what felt like forever.

Jay between your spread legs, focused and in control, while you writhed and moaned loudly beneath his skilled tongue.

He was clearly enjoying himself, occasionally humming in satisfaction against your pussy or glancing up to watch your innocent face contort with overwhelming pleasure.

"You're doing so well holding it for me" he praised softly between licks. "just a little longer…"

Your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release, but Jay kept you right there — teetering, desperate, and completely at his mercy.

Now you were shaking uncontrollably, your thighs trembling around Jay's head as he continued working you with his tongue.

Jay sucked your swollen clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue rapidly while his two fingers curled deep inside you, pressing firmly against that sensitive spot.

His dark eyes flicked up to watch your face as he pushed you over.

"Jay— fuck— i'm cumming—!" you cried out loudly, voice breaking into a high-pitched moan that echoed through the room.

The orgasm crashed over you hard.

Your back arched violently off the bed, hips jerking against his face as waves of intense pleasure ripped through your body.

You moaned shamelessly loud, almost screaming his name as your pussy clenched around his fingers and flooded his tongue.

But Jay didn't stop.

He kept his mouth on you through the entire orgasm, licking and sucking gently but consistently, drawing it out and immediately pushing you toward another peak.

"Jay— oh my god, it's too much... i just came— ah" you wailed, one hand gripping his hair tightly while the other twisted in the sheets. your legs shook uncontrollably around his shoulders.

He hummed against your pussy, the vibration sending aftershocks through you.

"I know" he murmured, voice low and slightly smug against your wet folds. "but you sound too pretty when you're falling apart. i'm not done with you yet."

He continued eating you out with focused determination — slow, broad licks mixed with quick flicks on your oversensitive clit.

His fingers kept moving inside you, curling and thrusting steadily. the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on your dripping pussy filled the room alongside your loud, hoarse moans.

After several long minutes of this delicious torture, Jay finally pulled his mouth away, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal.

He looked up at your flushed, wrecked face with that signature cool smirk.

"On your stomach again." he said quietly, voice rough with want.

You barely had the strength to move, but he helped you, flipping you onto your belly with strong, careful hands.

He pulled your hips up so you were in doggy again — ass high, chest and face pressed down into the mattress, exactly how he liked you.

Jay knelt behind you and rubbed his hard cock along your soaked folds before pushing back inside you in one smooth, deep thrust. you moaned into the sheets as he filled you again.

"Jay— nggh—"

He started fucking you again with those perfect deep and fast strokes, his hips snapping against your ass.

One hand gripped your hip firmly while the other slid up your back. Then you felt it — his thumb circling your tight rim teasingly before slowly pressing inside.

The dual sensation — his thick cock stretching your pussy while his thumb gently worked inside your ass — was overwhelming.

"Shit... Jay" your body trembled as he pushed his thumb deeper, moving it in slow, careful thrusts in time with his cock.

"Relax for me" he murmured, voice low and steady even as he fucked you harder. "just a little. i've got you."

He kept the pace deep and rhythmic, cock driving into your pussy while his thumb gently fucked your ass.

The feeling was intense but not painful — just enough stretch and fullness to make your loud moans turn even more desperate.

You were a wreck — face down, ass up, moaning shamelessly loud with every thrust. Jay's free hand reached around to rub your clit again, pushing you toward another orgasm while he continued the double stimulation.

"Listen to how loud you are" he said, voice husky with arousal but still teasing. "you love this, don't you?"

"Yes... ngf... fuck yes, i love it—" you cried out, pushing back against him desperately. "don't stop... please."

Jay kept going, deep and controlled.

His cock dragged perfectly against your g-spot with every thrust while his thumb moved gently inside you, stretching you just enough to heighten everything.

The room was filled with the wet sounds of sex, skin slapping skin, and your continuous loud moans.

He leaned forward, chest pressing against your back as he fucked you, his mouth close to your ear.

"You're squeezing me so fucking tight" he groaned softly. "both holes. such a greedy girl tonight."

You could only moan in response, completely lost in the pleasure.

Jay's rhythm never faltered — deep, fast strokes in your pussy, steady movements of his thumb in your ass, and his fingers still working your clit.

He kept you right on the edge of another orgasm, drawing it out just like before.

After several long, intense minutes, he pulled his thumb out carefully and focused entirely on fucking you deep from behind, both hands gripping your hips as he drove into you with powerful, controlled thrusts.

Jay leaned down again, kissing the back of your neck as he continued fucking you thoroughly.

"You're doing so well" he said quietly, voice warm despite how hard he was driving into you. "taking me so deep… being so loud for me. my perfect girl."

He kept the pace going, switching between deep grinding and faster thrusts, always keeping you full and stimulated.

He gripped your hips tighter and drove into you harder, his cock sliding in and out of your soaked, sensitive pussy with wet, obscene sounds.

"Jay, fuck... it's too much—" you cried out, voice breaking as he hit that perfect spot over and over.

He leaned forward, chest pressing against your back, and wrapped one arm around your waist to hold you in place. his other hand slid up to grip your shoulder, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust.

"You can take it" he murmured against your ear, voice rough and low. "you've been waiting years for this. take it like a good girl for me."

Then he shifted again, pushing your upper body fully down while keeping your hips raised.

The weight of him on top of you again, the way his cock drove so deep at this angle, had you moaning loudly into the sheets, almost sobbing with overstimulation and pleasure.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of him fucking you thoroughly, Jay's breathing became more ragged. his thrusts grew faster, more desperate.

This was exactly how he needed it.

He fucked you harder, hips snapping against your ass with urgent, almost frantic strokes.

His cock drove deep inside you with every thrust, the angle letting him hit as deep as possible. his breathing was heavy and labored against the back of your neck.

"Fuck— i'm close—" he groaned, voice strained for the first time that night. "you feel too good… i can't hold it anymore."

You moaned loudly in response, pushing your ass back against him as much as you could. "cum inside me, i want to feel you—"

That seemed to break the last bit of his control.

Jay's thrusts became erratic and desperate. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other gripping the sheets beside your head.

His hips slammed against you faster, chasing his release with raw need.

"Shit— fuck" he growled, voice breaking as the pleasure overtook him.

With a deep, guttural groan that vibrated against your skin, Jay buried himself as deep as possible inside you and came hard.

His cock pulsed strongly, releasing thick, warm spurts of cum deep into your pussy.

His hips stuttered and jerked against your ass as he rode out the intense orgasm, grinding deep to push every drop inside you.

He kept thrusting weakly through his climax, desperate and almost whimpering against your neck as the pleasure overwhelmed him.

His body trembled on top of yours, muscles tense, breathing ragged and hot against your skin.

He stayed pressed against you, hips twitching, making sure you took every single drop.

The desperation in his movements — the way he held you so tightly, the broken groans, the way he couldn't stop moving even after he started cumming — was raw and intense. years of tension finally snapping in that exact moment.

He stayed inside you for a long time afterward, breathing heavily, body still covering yours completely as the last aftershocks ran through him.

His cock continued to twitch inside your cum-filled pussy, making you whimper softly at the overstimulation.

The room was quiet now except for both of your heavy breathing. Jay's warm, sweaty body remained pressed against your back, his face hidden in your neck as he tried to catch his breath.

No words yet.

Just the heavy, satisfied silence and the feeling of him still deep inside you, having cum exactly where he needed to — deep, desperate, and completely lost in the moment.

The room felt quieter than it had all night.

You stayed there — face down, body spent and trembling — trying to process the overwhelming wave of emotions crashing over you.

The pleasure was still echoing through your limbs, but something deeper was settling in. something terrifying and warm at the same time.

Jay finally let out a long, shaky breath.

He pressed a slow, almost hesitant kiss to the back of your shoulder before carefully pulling out of you.

The loss of him made you whimper softly. you felt empty.

Exposed. raw.

He rolled off you and lay on his side, facing you.

For a few seconds, he just looked at you — dark eyes searching your face with that familiar intensity. his hair was messy, lips slightly swollen, skin glistening with sweat under the soft brown-gold lighting.

He looked beautiful. and suddenly, painfully real.

You turned your head to face him, cheek still pressed against the bed.

Your heart was doing something complicated in your chest.

"Jay…" you whispered, voice hoarse from how loudly you'd been moaning.

He reached out and gently brushed damp strands of hair away from your face. his touch was careful now, almost reverent.

"Yeah?" he answered quietly. his voice was lower than usual, a little rough.

You didn't know what to say. there were too many things at once.

I just slept with my best friend.

I let him cum inside me.

I've been in love with you for years and now i'm scared.

Instead of speaking, you shifted closer and tucked yourself against his chest.

Jay didn't hesitate — he wrapped his arms around you immediately, pulling you in.

One hand rubbed slow circles on your bare back while the other rested at the nape of your neck.

The silence stretched again, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

It was heavy.

"I…" you started, then stopped.

Your fingers traced small patterns on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slowly begin to calm. "i don't know what to say right now."

Jay let out a soft breath that was almost a chuckle. "me neither."

He tilted his head down to look at you.

His expression was calm on the surface, but you knew him too well. there was something vulnerable behind his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked. the question was simple, but the way he asked it — gentle, serious — made your chest tighten.

You nodded against him. "yeah. just… a lot."

He was quiet for a moment, then spoke again, voice low. "i know. for me too."

You pulled back slightly so you could see his face better. "did you… want this? like, really want it? or did i just—"

Jay cut you off by pressing his forehead against yours.

"I wanted it" he said firmly. "i've wanted it for longer than i probably should admit. but i never let myself think about it too much because… you're you. my best friend. the one person i didn't want to risk losing."

Your eyes stung a little.

You swallowed hard.

"I've been in love with you since second year" you confessed in a whisper. the words felt scary to say out loud, but after everything that had just happened, they also felt necessary.

"Not just… wanting you. loving you. for years. and tonight i just… i couldn't pretend anymore."

Jay's hand stilled on your back for a second. then he pulled you closer, tucking your head under his chin.

"I figured" he murmured. "i'm not blind. the way you looked at me during those guitar lessons… how you'd get quiet sometimes. i noticed. i just didn't know if acting on it would fuck everything up."

You let out a shaky laugh. "and now?"

He was quiet for a long time. his fingers resumed their slow movement on your back.

"Now i don't know" he admitted honestly. "but i don't regret it. not even a little." he paused. "do you?"

You shook your head quickly. "no. God, no. it felt… right. even if it was intense. even if i was so loud i probably woke up your neighbors."

Jay chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest.

The familiar teasing tone returned just a bit. "you were really loud. i didn't know you had that in you."

You hid your face in his neck, embarrassed but smiling. "shut up. you were the one edging me for like an hour."

He laughed again, but it faded into something softer. his arms tightened around you.

"I just… i needed to know you really wanted it" he said quietly. "all of it. not just because you were drunk or horny. i needed to hear you fall apart for me."

You stayed silent, absorbing his words.

The vulnerability in his voice was rare. Jay was always the cool one, the one who had everything under control. hearing him admit that he'd been holding back too made something warm bloom in your chest.

"I've never felt like that with anyone else" you whispered. "not even close. it wasn't just sex, Jay. it was you."

He exhaled slowly, like he'd been holding that breath for a long time.

"Yeah" he said finally. "same here."

The two of you stayed tangled together like that for a while.

You traced a finger along his collarbone. "are you scared?" you asked softly.

Jay was quiet for a few seconds.

"A little" he admitted. "i don't want to lose what we have. the friendship. the late nights. the stupid arguments about music. you're important to me. really fucking important."

You nodded, throat tight. "me too. but… i also don't think i can go back to pretending i don't feel this way."

He tilted your chin up gently so you were looking at him. his dark eyes were serious, but there was warmth there too.

"Then we don't pretend" he said. "we figure it out. slowly. no pressure. you're still my best friend first. everything else… we'll see."

You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they were different. not sad. just overwhelmed.

Jay noticed immediately. he wiped the corner of your eye with his thumb.

"Hey" he said softly, that teasing smirk returning just a fraction. "don't cry on me now. i just made you cum so hard you almost forgot your own name. this is supposed to be a victory lap."

You laughed wetly and shoved his chest lightly. "you're such an asshole."

"Your asshole" he corrected, smirking.

The joke helped. it reminded you that even after everything, he was still Jay.

Your Jay.

You snuggled closer again, legs tangling with his. His hand resumed rubbing your back, soothing and steady.

The emotional weight of the night settled over both of you — the relief, the fear, the hope, the deep affection that had always been there underneath the tension.

It wasn't simple. it wasn't clean. but it was real.

Jay held you tighter, like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

"Get some sleep" he murmured eventually, voice soft. "we'll talk more in the morning. when your brain isn't fried from all the orgasms i gave you."

You smiled against his skin. "cocky."

"Accurate" he replied.

Even in the emotional aftermath, the teasing remained. it felt safe. familiar.

As your eyes grew heavier, wrapped in his arms in the warm glow of his room, you realized something important:

Whatever happened next — whether this became something more or complicated everything — you didn't regret a single second.

And from the way Jay's fingers kept tracing gentle patterns on your skin long after you thought he'd fallen asleep, you suspected he didn't either.

[m] SUNGHOON | rocket science | @heesmiles 33k — You’ve always been the girl everyone knows: sharp-witted, magnetic, the kind of pretty that makes people turn their heads. By day, you’re just another college student with a popular face and a spotless reputation. By night, you’re something far less innocent, an anonymous camgirl, raking in tips from strangers who only know your voice, your body, and the way you make them feel. It was never personal, until it was. When Sunghoon — Heeseung’s nerdy, painfully shy roommate. You’ve barely spoken beyond polite small talk, he’s the kind of guy who still blushes when someone brushes past him. Or at least… you thought so. Until one late night, you hear something you shouldn’t: your own voice spilling from behind Sunghoon’s bedroom door. He doesn’t know you’re still in the apartment. He doesn’t know you can hear him or that you’re about to walk in and catch him in the act. And he definitely doesn’t know the girl on his screen, the camgirl he’s been tipping more than anyone else: is you. So naturally you agree to teach him: it's not like it's rocket science or anything.

[m] HEESEUNG | player rank: platinum | @simpjaes 30k — You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off. 

[m] NI-KI | yes, professor | @kissued 29.5k — an upcoming anatomy final leaves you teetering on the edge of exhaustion, buried under stress and self-doubt. but when professor nishimura offers a steady, guiding hand, the pressure starts to lift — and suddenly, the lines between mentorship and something more begin to blur.

JAKE | strikes out | @enhaflixer 23.5k — Five years ago, Jake Sim walked away to chase his soccer dreams, never knowing he left more than just a broken heart behind. Now, he-s back—unwittingly running a soccer clinic where his five-year-old daughter is signed up. The daughter he doesn't know exists.

SUNGHOON | the red knight | @twocupsofsuga 22k — When a notorious nomad tribe dared to strike your kingdom, your parents responded by assigning you a protector—the kingdom’s most disciplined, unyielding knight. He made it painfully clear that his oath to guard you outweighed your protests, your stubbornness, and your every attempt to slip past him. Yet lately, the man who once felt carved from stone seems to unravel in your presence. And nothing in his contract mentioned losing his composure for you.

[m] JAKE | user error | @gyuuberryy 21.8k — getting partnered with jake, the tall awkward nerd from on of your computer science classes, should've been simple—work on the project, get your grade, move on. except now you're completely obsessed with him and he's totally clueless about it. between tutoring sessions you definitely don't need and "coincidental" dorm hall run-ins, you're pulling out all the stops. too bad jake's more interested in his textbooks than your very obvious flirting. you've never been rejected before, so this should be fine. …right?

[m] SUNGHOON | your eyes only | @m-hypen 21.8k — Enemies to Lovers | Camboy!Sunghoon x Reader

JUNGWON | secrets | @theothernads 21k — After making it to university, you found yourself finding comfort in a cat café worker not too far from your lectures. The cute worker seemed to have a knack for making you fall for his charm. And, how could you not? Your chemistry was perfect- but you never thought that he had secrets and that Jungwon was your secret as well. As much as you two tried to keep everything behind the scenes, things don’t always work out the way they should.

[m] HEESEUNG | waiting room | @heejamas 21k — for three years, you and heeseung have hovered between friendship and something more—stolen glances, late-night car rides, hands brushing under tables. but when the waiting finally ends, you realize you were never just friends to begin with.

JAY | just like heaven | @heejamas 21k — you never planned to fall for your brother’s best friend, jay. but the summer before college, on 1989, something shifts—between mixtapes, quiet drives, and the kind of closeness that sneaks up on you. and after a few cassette tapes and long drives, the love you never planned for starts happening.

[m] SUNGHOON | a con for a heart | @faeyun 19.4k — when an elusive man known as “the curator” hires you under his organization of con artists, you know it’s for more than just your skill set. you accept his offer with motives on your own—find out just what his name is and expose it to his enemies to put yourself on top of the chain. but, as the two of you play a game of cat and mouse, you realize that that’s much easier said than done.

[m] HEESEUNG | one hundred and one | @heesdreamer 19k — returning back home from a failed year at college, you’re reunited with your little brothers best friend who always had a crush on you. this definitely hasn’t changed, but he sure has.

[m] SUNGHOON | honey on ice | @liuhsng 18.4k — you were supposed to save his daughter from loneliness—not him. park sunghoon has it all: medals, money, and a schedule too packed for bedtime stories. when his little girl starts closing off, he hires you—a broke college student with a bright laugh and quiet charm—as her nanny. you’re warm, young, and everything his cold, controlled world isn’t. or where saving him was never in the job description—but you did it anyway.

[m] JAKE | scene one | @rikiliu 17.8k — Working solo in adult content was easy — no crew, no co-stars, no one watching while you filmed. But after signing with the biggest studio in the industry, everything changes. New rules. New cameras. New people. Including Jake — your first scene partner — who just happened to catch every second of your audition tape… and hasn’t stopped looking since.

[m] JAKE | bruises | @dazzlingjaeyun 17.3k — engineering major!jake x nursing student fem!reader

[m] SUNGHOON | bite me | @babyjinsu 17k — a young wife discovers her husband's secret—a bloodied creature chained beneath floorboards. drawn by pity and curiousity, she visits him in secret when her husband falls asleep. but mercy has its price, and hunger always finds a way to bite back—the neck that feeds.

[m] JAKE | the pushover | @jaysbaefie 16.5k — in which jake sim finally stops letting you run the show—only to prove he’s always known how to handle you.

JAKE | love, lies, and sim jake | @shy9-29 16.4k — You were the quiet girl with the not-so-quiet crush on Jake Sim—campus heartbreaker, smooth talker, and everything you should’ve stayed away from. But when a bet turns your name into a game, the rules change fast. He didn’t expect to fall for you… and you didn’t expect to find out. Now it’s your move—and this time, you’re not playing nice.

[m] JAKE | cunnilinguist | @simpjaes 16.1k — Unfortunately for you, no man has ever given you some good head. Fortunately for you, your best friend is more annoyed by it than you are. It’s just a favor, right? or the one where your best friend jake eats you out as a way to admit his own feelings for you, also, apparently sunghoon existing is an issue.

JAY | sugar in the soil | @liuhsng 16k — your fascination with flowers was a quiet love you turned into your future. majoring in biology at decelis university, you often found yourself needing rare blooms, fresh clippings, or just the scent of something calming after long hours in the lab. that’s why the little flower shop down the street became your second home. the staff knew your name. mrs. park always had tea ready. until one afternoon, the usual calm was replaced with someone entirely unexpected—park jongseong, of all people. golden boy. heir to a business empire. the last person you'd expect to be arranging sunflowers behind the counter like he belonged there. or, where your love for flowers leads you to someone who’s far more than just his reputation.

[m] HEESEUNG | rage quit | @guliexe 15.9k — gamer!au, you started as friends who played games at night—now he’s the one making you moan into his pillow.

[m] JAY | losing the war | @babeyun 15k — regency!au, even when the world seems bleak, he can't help but try and prove that love still exists. the love you yearn for exists, because he is full of it - and so are you.

[m] HEESEUNG | beautiful strangers | @si3rren 15k — The world ended in shades of purple. An aurora called the Violet Hour swallowed the sky and never left. In its ruins, you and Lee Heeseung begin as strangers—until survival turns into something softer, and holding each other becomes the last beautiful thing left.

JAY | notoriously yours | @jakesimfromstatefarm 14.7k — jay park is a rich kid. it’s safe to say he has everything every broke college student on his campus could dream of and more. but the one thing he doesn’t have, which money definitely can’t buy, is a girlfriend. and his friends won’t see of it. literally. so what happens when his friends bet him to date someone for more than three months? what happens when jay decides that fake-dating someone would be easier than actual dating (because god forbid Jay–the campus’ notoriously known fuckboy–decides to commit to something once in his life)? and what happens when that someone is you, his childhood best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years..who has absolutely no interest in being in his life anymore?

SUNGHOON | ancient dreams | @stllmnstr 14.3k — vampire hunter reader x vampire sunghoon, enemies to lovers, angst, fantasy/sci-fi

[m] HEESEUNG | adonis | @velvetdolor 14k — You’re a prolific photographer, renowned for your unconventional devotion to your craft. Enter Lee Heeseung—top model, golden boy, and muse extraordinaire. When you discover a leaked tabloid photo of him in bondage, you arrange a meeting and make your offer: become your muse, and in return, you’ll pave the way for his redemption after a career-shattering scandal. The unexpected follows—an intense entanglement and obsession to photograph your muse who serves every whim of yours, offering his unrelenting submission. Yet beneath Heeseung’s charismatic persona and dangerously alluring beauty lurks an unsettling darkness: a possessiveness with a taste for murder and destruction.

[m] HEESEUNG | reflexion | @lassiie 14k — The three of you always had a strange relationship. Heesu, the wallflower twin, loves you in secret when you are in Heeseung's palm, stuck in a one-sided love. But when his twin dies and Heeseung grows closer, his smile, his words, and even his touch starts to feel like someone else's—like the dead twin is slipping through him... or worse.

[m] HEESEUNG | like an angel | @bambidollies 13.8k — In which Heeseung is obsessed with his sweet, innocent, shy sister’s best friend, and not in a healthy way.

JAKE | auld lang syne | @heethera 13k — you ask jake to teach you how to flirt so jay will notice you. he says yes...despite having a 10 year crush on you.

NI-KI | everybody loves jungwon | @heethera 13k — ni-ki likes his best friend. but sunoo thinks he likes self-sabotaging himself more.

JUNGWON | sure thing | @stllmnstr 12.9k — coworkers au, underground boxer jungwon

[m] JUNGWON | sweet talk | @enhaflixer 12k — You’re used to observing Yang Jungwon from a distance. Campus golden boy, dance department star, the kind of person you warn your podcast listeners about—the ones that are too charming, too smooth, too easy to love. But then he starts looking back. Smiling at you across coffee shops. Sitting next to you in lectures. Texting you late at night. Before you know it, you’re in a relationship that feels too good to be true. And that’s because it is. He was supposed to make you fall for him. And he did. The problem? He fell too. (But love doesn’t erase betrayal, does it?)

[m] JAKE | deal with it | @m-hypen 12k — Your best friend, Jake, gets frustrated by your cockblocking and has you make up for it.

[m] NI-KI | every inch | @liuhsng 10.4k — ni-ki isn’t the type to dwell on annoyances. he fixes the problem, gets the job done, and moves on. but when you ask him to come over to help with a project you can barely finish—your deadline bleeding closer by the hour—while talking his ear off about your mutual friends, something ugly and possessive finally claws its way to the surface. maybe it isn’t annoyance at all. maybe it’s the last push he needs to stop holding back.

[m] SUNGHOON | love is cannibalism | @mssishipi 10k — “To love,” they said, “is to consume.”

[m] SUNGHOON | save a horse, ride a cowboy | @hoonkitti 10k — what's better than riding a big horse? ride the owner, and his bigger horse!

[m] NI-KI | fallen angel | @guliexe 9.1k — you were his softest secret in a world full of violence. and even bleeding out, he still only wanted to hold you.

[m] JAKE | shoreline | @guliexe 8.8k — surfer!au, you've loved jake for years, but he's never looked at you the way you wish he would. one summer night, he finally does, and everything changes.

JAY | the prince of polo | @khioneee 8.5k — after a fall in the field, his polo career is at risk. you're the sports therapist assigned to his recovery.

[m] JUNGWON | needy | @jaysbaefie 8.4k — in which jungwon gets too drunk, too honest, and far too handsy, and somewhere between the pulled-over car and the way he begs for you, everything you thought you knew starts to snap.

SUNGHOON | right next door! | @gyuuberryy 8.1k — you and park sunghoon have been tangled in hogwarts' most explosive rivalry since fifth year—all duels in corridors and sabotaged potions and lingering stares across the great hall. now in your last year, you're forced to share prefect duties, and between his infuriating teasing and surprisingly caring moments, you can't decide if you want to hex him or kiss him. but when old wounds resurface and the line between rivalry and something else blurs, you'll have to confront why his attention still makes your pulse race—and whether some bridges are better left burned.

[m] JUNGWON | intact | @dollhoonki 7.8k — yours and jungwon's union is pre-destined, foretold by the founding fathers of your commune. despite your initial hesitations towards him, you learn to love him, as he embraces you - in more ways than one. with your wedding approaching soon and the departure of your best friend, your mind is a mess. with one decision you make costing you that destiny, it's up to jungwon to do whatever it takes to keep it intact - even if that means revealing skeletons buried deep inside of your mind.

[m] JAKE | dancing with our hands tied | @ikeukiss 7.7k — What began as a simple friends-with-benefits situation with your brother's best friend has turned into something deeper, and you now find that your emotions are more complicated than you initially thought.

[m] JAY + SUNGHOON | friends to worry about | @intromortal 7.3k — heeseung hasn't been the best boyfriend, and the further apart you two grow, the closer you get to his best friends. all you need is for him to slip up one last time to finally make your fantasies come true.

[m] HEESEUNG | dirty little secret | @sincerelyneo 7k — Hooking up with the hot soccer player who doesn’t believe in labels (and just so happens to be your brother’s best friend) obviously had to stay a secret.  His rules, not yours. And it’s easy…until Heeseung starts acting like any other guy who so much as looks at you is a problem. Because apparently, he doesn’t do labels. But he does do jealousy.

[m] SUNOO | the best friend syndrome | @si3rren 7k — you always thought sunoo was off-limits—sweet, soft, possibly into guys. you undressed in front of him, slept beside him, teased him without shame. but the moment jealousy breaks him, you realize he’s not safe. he’s obsessed. and he’s been waiting to take you for years.

[m] JAKE | the giver | @sincerelyneo 6.5k — Something doesn’t sit right when Jake hears his childhood best friend’s back in town. It’s worse when he finds out your city-boy boyfriend dumped you. But what really sends him over the edge is learning that the asshole never got you off once during your entire relationship. And as a self-proclaimed giver… Jake’s pretty damn set on fixing that himself.

[m] JAY | backseat | @jaysbaefie 6.2k — in which your older brothers best friend finally stops teasing you and shows you just how much he wants you.

[m] JUNGWON + JAKE | final girl | @xoseong 5.7k — When you agreed to cleaning up the aftermath Halloween night left on Moonstruck Theater, you expected a calm shift with little distractions. But that all changes when a mysterious car pulls into the parking lot, and suddenly you don’t feel so calm anymore.

[m] JUNGWON | the one he waited for | @cbeargyu 5.3k — when you’re finally forced to confront the simmering attraction between you and jungwon, your brother’s best friend, the result is unexpected. one late-night encounter, charged with tension, ends up crossing a line neither of you thought you’d dare. what started as a playful game turns into something deeper and more intense, and now there’s no going back.

JAKE | way back home | @sjyuns 5.1k — breaking news! the friendly neighbourhood superhero spider-man has been caught trying to swing into a girl’s heart — but why is he failing miserably?! is this the spider-man we all know and love? or has our hero lost his spark? or in which sim jaeyun asks you, his best friend out, forgetting that he was still in his spider-man suit.

[m] JAKE | no doubt | @vampelic 5k — jake having an awful reputation with being head over heels.

JUNGWON | breakaway | @wispyn 5k — you’re a sweetheart, which makes you the most popular girl in school. and that has perks, being with the most popular guy in school. what was once a beautiful relationship, suddenly turned toxic and abusive. as a final senior project, you’re partnered up with the one and only—yang jungwon. the nerdiest yet sweetest boy. and the more you hang out with him, the more your heart suddenly heals.

[m] HEESEUNG | the color violet | @velvetdolor 4k — You’ve always liked that Heeseung is cool and calculated—easy, uncomplicated. He’s the ex you can still run to, the Casanova who somehow never held a grudge after you left him the moment things got too serious, too close for comfort. But on an unsuspecting night, you slip back into his life with your usual storm of chaos—crocodile tears, mascara running—and something in his composure finally cracks. In the violet haze of the party, two avoidant storms collide, and the night confesses everything left unsaid.

JUNGWON | hesitation | pt. 2 | @stllmnstr 3.7k — university au, reader is three years older than jungwon

SUNGHOON | drabble | @babyjinsu 3.4k — 90s couple and their toxic arguments

HEESEUNG | fiend | @sa1co 2.8k — Heeseung may be addicted to the drugs, but you're addicted to him in a way that'll probably kill you too.

SUNGHOON | pink white lilies | @hoonkitti 2.5k — you were born into silk and scandal. sunghoon wasn't born to be noticed at all.

[m] JAKE | leave me wanting | @elikajinnie ??k — The tension with Jake has been building for months. You try to ignore it, to play it safe. But when another ruined date ends in a heated confrontation, the truth slips out and so do his hands. One kiss, and suddenly, pretending you don’t want him isn’t an option anymore.

[m] JUNGWON | a crown between us | @wonsiwon ??k — in the halls of the palace, where secrets are dressed in silk and love is the greatest betrayal, a maid finds herself caught in a dangerous entanglement with the crown prince, jungwon. though bound by duty and royalty, their stolen glances and whispered promises bloom into something neither can escape. but when the queen announces his arranged marriage, everything shatters.

[m] HYUNG LINE | drabble | @drunkhazed-archive

[m] JUNGWON | heartbeat | @s4ilorrr — You only signed up for biology because you thought it’d be an easy A. You didn’t expect Jungwon, your too perfect for his own good lab partner, to turn a simple heart rate experiment into something you’ll be thinking about long after the monitor stops beeping.

[m] JAKE | puppy princess | @bambiihee — jake agrees to watch heeseung's puppy hybrid while he's away.

JAKE | drabble | @xoami — In which, Jake is down bad for his older classmate, and it becomes almost too much.

series'.

[m] SUNGHOON | teeth | @romancentold — 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗆—𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾. 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗉 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗌, 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝖾𝗅𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇, 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝖼𝖾. 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗐𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝖽𝗂𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾? 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾.

JUNGWON | safe and sound | @thatfeelinwhenyou — Navigating one year post-apocalypse, when the dead began to walk and the living proved to be no better, you decide that trust is a luxury you can no longer afford. But after a run-in with a group of seven peculiar survivors, you learn that there are bigger problems than just the undead roaming the streets. You also start to wonder if there’s more to survival than simply staying alive.

JAKE | the law of unintended consequences | @chogiwow — astrophysicist!jake x assistant!reader; posits that actions often have unforeseen and unanticipated effects, which may be positive, negative, or neutral, that are not part of the actor's original intent.

[m] SUNGHOON | my baby is a bird | @paarksunghoon — Is three years enough time to heal and move on? Just when you think you’ve got your life figured out, Sunghoon comes barging in and disrupting the peace you’ve built for yourself in the name of fixing his mistakes. It stirs up old feelings and dangerous habits, but Sunghoon is determined to show you that you’re the only one for him, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you love him again.

[m] JAKE | tell me lies | @baekguwu — Keeping Jake Sim off-limits should’ve been easy. He was your twin’s best friend, the one line you swore you’d never cross. But one reckless night was all it took to ruin that promise, and now you’re trapped in a secret you don’t want to quit. Worse? Your big and one of your closest friends has been obsessed with Jake for years, and as far as everyone else knows, she’s the only one who’s ever had a real shot with him. So you lie to everyone, over and over, and find that the deeper you sink, the easier it feels because maybe the truth is uglier than you’ll ever admit. 

[m] JAKE | nicest guy | @heejamas — SMAU; you decide to go to your first college party after two years, and after having to take care of two different drunk men, your college life changes drastically.

-

+ shamelessly, a lil smth smth I wrote... just in case you have more time to kill o.o SUNGHOON | as far and close as here | 21.3k — you meet sunghoon at twelve, fall in love with him at thirteen, and get your heart broken at eighteen. a collection of summer vignettes, some growing up with him as your lover and some without. you never expected that years later, you would be forced to look him in the eye as he recounts what his life has been like without you. [in otherwords] a story about piecing together what it means to love someone who left, and learning that fate has a funny way of bringing people back together again.

Jay and Jake were in something of a social exile, their messy, years long deception finally curdling their reputations but who really cares about people being gay these days? But Sunghoon was a victim, he was the noble boyfriend who had been betrayed by his girlfriend and his best friend. The narrative was perfect and the rewards were even better. His gaze shifted to the door of the ensuite bathroom, you were in there probably fixing your makeup, moving with that quiet, tentative tread you'd adopted lately. For four weeks you’d become a shell of yourself, so consumed by the guilt of your mistake with Jay that you had become a servant to Sunghoon's every whim. You cooked for him, you anticipated his moods, always looking at him with such desperate eyes that it almost made him want to laugh. You were working so hard to earn back the trust of a man who had never actually lost it because he had never been faithful to begin with.

Then there was Leah.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand with a text that he didn't even need to open to know it was from her. Leah was a different kind of fun. Where you were desperate for forgiveness, Leah was oh so desperate for supremacy. She was obsessed with the secret they shared—the adrenaline of cheating right under your nose made her crazy in a way Sunghoon was oddly attracted to. She wanted to be his number one and she was willing to degrade herself in ways you wouldn't dream of just to prove she was more loyal than you.

He had you both exactly where he wanted you, you in his bed seeking redemption and Leah in the shadows seeking a title.

The door opened and you stepped out wearing one of his oversized shirts looking so small and fragile. "I made you coffee," you told him, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out to touch his hand like you were afraid he'd recoil. "What are your plans today, Hoon?"

Sunghoon reached out, tangling his fingers in your hair to pull you closer. He didn't answer immediately, he liked to let the silence stretch until you looked like you were on the verge of tears.

"I’m not sure yet," he finally murmured, his voice smooth and devoid of the hurt he had been weaponizing for the past four weeks. He felt a surge of power, Sunghoon had cheated, he had lied and in the grand scheme of things he had won. He was the only one who knew the truth and as long as he kept you and Leah spiraling in your own competitions, he would never have to pay for a thing, he would never pay for the consequences of his actions.

"You're a good girl," he added, loving the way you visibly melted at the words. He caught his reflection in the mirror opposite the bed, feeling utterly untouchable.

He trailed his hands to your waist and adjusted you so you were now straddling him, his face buried for a moment in the crook of your neck. He breathed you in, savoring the way you stayed perfectly still, as if you were yielding to him completely. This was his favorite part of the game, he loved the absolute submission born from your misplaced shame.

The relentless vibration of his phone against the nightstand broke the silence. He reached for it and immediately let out a hiss of annoyance, tossing the device back onto the mattress as if it had burned him and rolling his eyes so hard it looked painful.

"What is it, babe?" you asked, your hand tentatively smoothing the hair at the nape of his neck. "Did something happen?"

"My father," he spat the name like a curse. "He wants another one of those miserable family dinners tomorrow. God, I hate that word. He always uses it like it's supposed to mean something."

He leaned back again, the mask of the composed victim was slipping to reveal the raw edges of his elitism and if you weren't so blinded by your own consuming guilt, you would've noticed it immediately. "Those people aren't my family. They're more like intruders. That woman is nothing but a gold digger and a whore who caught my father at a weak moment, and her son—" He cut himself off with a bitter laugh. "Jungwon is the most arrogant, insufferable brat I've ever had the misfortune of knowing. He walks around that house like he owns the fucking floorboards and father just eats it up."

You stayed quiet, just letting him vent and tracing soothing circles against his skin until the tension in his shoulders finally began to bleed away. You were the only one who could tame him like this, or at least he let you believe you were. He felt a smug sense of pride watching you work so hard to fix his mood.

His phone buzzed again and this time he snatched it up, you watched his lip curl in disgust as he read the second message. "How fantastic. It gets better, baby. Apparently, the little prince wants to introduce his new girlfriend to everyone. My father expects us to be there to welcome her into the fold."

Sunghoon tossed the phone aside again and pulled you flush against his chest this time, sliding his down to grip your hips possessively. "I can already see her," he scoffed with condescension. "Some airhead who's fallen for Jungwon's perfect gentleman act. Probably some flavor of the month socialite who doesn't have two fucking brain cells to rub together. Jungwon has zero taste, he just picks whoever is going to look best in a photo op."

"But I have to go. I'd rather endure a night of staring at whatever bimbo he's brought home than deal with my father's lectures about unity and him dangling my trust over my head. You're coming with me, of course. I need you there to remind them what a real woman looks like."

His lips nipped at your earlobe, a dark smile spreading on his lips. "And besides...I want them to see how much you adore me. It'll make Jungwon's little debut look pathetic in comparison."

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words

"Hoon...I can't tomorrow. It's my sister's bridal shower remember? I told you about it last week, I'm supposed to be there all day."

Sunghoon's hands on your hips went rigid the second the words left your mouth, he didn't say a word at first, he did stare at you with those piercing eyes that made you feel like a specimen under a microscope.

"A bridal shower," he repeated. "So your sister's party is more important than my father's command? More important than supporting me through a night with those vultures?"

"Hoon, please, I've been planning it for months," your heart already beginning to race. "I'm the maid of honor, I can't just—"

"I bet if it were Jay asking, you'd find a way to be there," he snapped. It was his favorite weapon these days, the ultimate trump card he pulled whenever he wanted to remind you of your place.

"No! Hoon, that's not fair, you know I—I'll do anything to make it up to you, I promise. I'll come over right after, I'll stay the whole weekend, I'll—"

"Shut it," he muttered, his hurt victim act vanishing to reveal the cold tyrant beneath. "I don't want to hear your excuses. You're all the same. You claim you want to earn my trust but the second I actually need you, you have plans."

He stood up abruptly, roughly shifting his weight so suddenly that he tossed you off his lap. You landed on the mattress with a soft thud, scrambling to sit up as he looked down at you with utter disdain. He wasn't even looking at your face anymore; his gaze was fixed on your legs, his expression almost transactional.

"If you're going to be useless to me at dinner, you might as well be useful to me now," he said with no affection in his tone. "Take your panties off. Now."

You looked at him, searching for even a flicker of the boy who used to love you so much but all you saw was the man who held your reputation in his hands. Shaking, your fingers moved to the waistband of your lace underwear, slowly sliding them down your legs while he watched you with a bored look on his face.

He stood there enjoying the sight of your submission. "You're going to stay just like that until I'm satisfied," he murmured as he pushed his pajama pants down slowly. "And maybe, if you're good enough, I'll consider forgiving you for being so selfish."

──.୨ৎ

Sunghoon killed the engine of his car but he couldn't bring himself to move yet, he needed the time to gather himself so he sat in the silence of his leather trimmed sanctuary, gripping the steering wheel until his fingers started to tingle. Outside, the sprawling driveway of the Park estate was bathed in the warm, mocking glow of the mansion's exterior lights but then the his eyes caught the baby blue G-Wagon parked crookedly just a few yards away.

The vehicle seemed to be rocking on its suspension in a rhythmic, almost violent motion that made Sunghoon's lip curl in a snarl of pure disgust. Even though the windows were tinted, the silhouettes were unmistakable.

Of course, Sunghoon thought. The venom in his mind dripping over every word. Of course the little prince couldn't even make it through the front door without acting like a rutting animal.

He stepped out of his car, the click of his shoes against the gravel was sharp and as he drew closer to the car to head toward the front steps, the soundproofing of the luxury SUV failed to drown out the noise. The girl's moans were high pitched and entirely too loud for a residential driveway.

"Do you like that?" His step brother's voice drifted out, it was muffled but recognizable with ghat smug arrogance that made Sunghoon's stomach turn. "Tell me you love my cock. Tell me who you belong to."

"Yes! Yes, I love it! Please, Wonie!" the girl screamed, her voice hitting an airheaded crescendo that echoed off the stone walls.

It made Sunghoon stop in his tracks, his frame rigid and his expression a mask of frozen disdain. Disgusting. Utterly primitive. He looked up at the darkened windows of his father's study, wondering how the man could be so blind. This was the boy his father was constantly comparing him to—a boy who had zero respect for the family home, zero dignity and apparently, zero standards as well.

Jungwon's new girlfriend was exactly what he expected—a loud, brainless girl with no sense of decorum, willing to be bent over the console of a car like a common street whore. To think his father expected Sunghoon to sit at a table to break bread and play nice with a girl who was currently screaming her lungs out in the driveway was an insult to his very existence.

She isn't even worth the effort of an introduction, Sunghoon thought, smoothing his jacket with a sharp motion. She's a placeholder, a toy for a boy who doesn't know the first thing about power or restraint.

He had just spent his whole day yesterday making you beg for a scrap of his grace and here was his step brother, practically begging for the attention of a girl who sounded like she had the depth of a light rain puddle.

He reached the front doors and the heavy oak door swung back to reveal the sterile, golden grandeur of the foyer. He would literally give anything for his father to see the contrast between the son who arrived with composure and the boy who was currently staining the interior of a Mercedes.

He didn't even have his coat off before the sound of heels clicking against marble announced her arrival. "Sunghoon! You're finally here," she chirped, smelling of expensive perfume and desperation—a combination he'd learned to identify long ago.

She reached out, arms opening for a motherly embrace that smelled just as shallow as her wedding vows, but Sunghoon didn't break his stride, he side stepped her instead. Not even a flinch and she was left hugging the air where he had been a second before, her hands awkwardly clutching at nothing, she was quick to catch herself though.

"Where is my father?" Sunghoon asked not even looking at her, too busy adjusting his watch, as if her proximity alone had somehow knocked his perfection out of alignment.

"He's in his study with—"

"Perfect," he interrupted, finally sliding his eyes toward her with the kind of look he usually gave Leah when she cried too loudly. "Try not to hover. It's unbecoming."

"Now, now, Sunghoon," his father's voice boomed from the top of the stairs, bouncing off the walls with that easy confidence that only comes with a high net worth. He descended the steps with a soft smile, looking every bit the patriarch he was. "Don't be so cold to your mother. She's just happy to see you."

He didn't even look at the woman standing there but he felt her presence like a smudge on a clean window. "She's not my mother," the words barely leaving his lips. It was like reflex to him now, a small piece of truth he threw out every time they decided to do this dance. His father swept past him but not before clapping a heavy hand on his son's shoulder. "Let's sit. I'm starving and I have a feeling the kitchen has outdone itself tonight."

"Jungwon is just a little late," his step mother sang out. "He'll be here any second, I'm sure of it."

Little late, Sunghoon thought, his eyes focused on the dust motes dancing in the light of the chandelier. Jungwon is fucking some bimbo in the driveway and he's going to walk in here soon and pretend nothing happened. He pulled out his chair, imagining you sitting there beside him, then he remembered why you weren't there, he remembered you were at your sister's bridal shower and it made a bitter taste flood his mouth.

"Oh, Sunghoon! You really should have met the lovely girl Jungwon brought over last weekend," her voice rising in excitement as she began to pour the wine. "She is just the sweetest thing. So polite and wholesome. She's exactly the kind of girl Jungwon needs."

Sunghoon's gaze stayed fixed on the silver fork in front of him, polite and wholesome. He wanted to laugh at the thought of a girl who could debase herself in the front of her boyfriend's family home as polite and wholesome. He wondered if Jungwon's girl had any idea what kind of animal she was dating or if she was just another prop in his step brother's own twisted theater.

"I'm sure she's a delight," Sunghoon said sarcastically. "I look forward to seeing how long she lasts before she realizes what kind of man your son is." He smiled at her but that smile quickly dropped when he heard his father's raised voice. "Park Sunghoon!" "You will not speak about your brother like that! We respect each other in this house." Those words unfortunately led to a lecture that somehow pivoted to his college education, "Law school isn't just about the pedigree, Sunghoon," his father continued with his usual steady drone of expectations. "It's about the endurance. Your grades are stable, but I need to see more focus. Less time at those campus parties, more time in the archives. You need to understand that once you graduate, the grace period is—"

The heavy dining room doors groaned open cutting the words from his father short. Sunghoon didn't even look up at first, his mind had drifted back to the annoyance he felt toward you for choosing a bridal shower over him. He was ready to watch Jungwon stroll in with some mindless girl he'd picked up from a sorority house, he was simply prepared to be unimpressed.

"Sorry for the wait," Jungwon's voice rang out, making the hair on the back of Sunghoon's neck stand up for some reason. "We got a little...distracted."

Sunghoon's eyes finally snapped up and for a second the world tilted, the grandeur of the room seemed to bleed into a blur of sickening realization. There, standing on Jungwon's arm, was you. You weren't at a bridal shower, you weren't wearing some floral sundress or helping your sister with ribbons and party games. You were wearing something sharp, that made you look expensive and sinful and your lips were slightly swollen—the exact same way they looked when Sunghoon finished with you.

The girl he had been internally mocking for being wholesome, the girl Jungwon had just been fucking in the driveway while Sunghoon watched with clinical disgust from the window.

It was you.

"Oh, sweetheart! You're back!" Jungwon's mother gushed, already on her feet with a beaming, smile. She crossed the room to you and took your hands in hers as if you were already her daughter. "It's so good to see you again. Jungwon hasn't stopped talking about how much he adores you since last weekend."

Sunghoon felt the air leave his lungs, his vision tunneled until all he could see was the way Jungwon's hand stayed firmly planted on the small of your back in a possessive touch that screamed of intimacy.

His mind quickly became a violent loop of contradictions. You told me you were with your family. You told me you were guilty. You're my toy. You're the one I broke. Across the table, Jungwon caught Sunghoon's eyes and he didn't look away when a smirk made its way to his face. Jungwon had been playing a much deeper game than Sunghoon ever realized.

"Sunghoon hyung," Jungwon said, his voice dripping with politeness that really just felt like a slap. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Don't tell me you forgot to say hello to my girlfriend?"

"It's nice to see you again, Sunghoon," you say with no usual tremor in your voice, you even offer him a small smile, the type someone gives a person they’re not close to, or a loser. Every instinct he has is screaming at him to lung forward, to grab your wrist and drag you out into the hallway and demand what the hell you're doing. The bridal shower? The lie tasted like ash in his mouth.

But his father is watching.

"You two know each other?" his father asks, clearly interested in the silence radiating from his eldest son

"We go to the same university," Jungwon quickly answers for you, pulling out your chair at the same time. "Small world, right?"

Sunghoon forced a breath through his nose and looked at you, trying to find a flicker of the girl who had been begging for his forgiveness for the past four weeks but all he could see was the sweetheart his stepmother had praised…Jungwon’s girlfriend.

"Small indeed," Sunghoon finally managed to say.

"Anyway," Jungwon's mother chirped, oblivious to the silent war happening across the centerpiece. "Tell us everything! How did you two meet? It must have been so romantic."

Sunghoon's eyes locked onto yours, like he was still trying to see if he could control you, to have you show some fear or even some shame but you just looked away and answered her question. "It was actually very sweet, Ma’am."

"He helped me when I was really in need and I couldn’t help myself—I fell for him. Jungwon really is a darling. You’ve raised him well."

Jungwon really was sweet to you, well maybe not in the beginning at least. The silence of the library was usually your sanctuary, it was the one place where the suffocating guilt of that night didn't feel like it was actively crushing your chest. For two weeks, you had been living in a state of self inflicted pain. You had replayed that night a thousand times, from the look on Sunghoon's face, to the sound of Heeseung and Calista’s laughs and without even realizing it, you had let Sunghoon turn that guilt and pain into a collar.

You were trying so hard, you’d even gone to Leah for advice, finding solace and comfort in her from time to time, genuinely believing she was your best friend.

Your phone buzzed on the table with a notification.

Unknown Number: [1 Video Attachment]

You thought it was a scam or perhaps another cruel joke from Heeseung but then you pressed play.

The video was in high definition, filmed from a distant balcony view. You immediately recognized the blue shimmer of the pool in Sunghoon’s family estate from when you’d spent weekends there. He told you he was traveling out of town for family business, he had ben insinuated it was a somber trip he needed to take alone to clear his head from the stress you had caused him.

In the frame, Sunghoon wasn't working or relaxing to clear his head. He was on a lounge chair by the pool, his head tilted back and his hands gripping the waist of a girl who was straddling him with practiced ease.

You dropped the phone like it had burned you when said girl threw her head back and you saw Leah’s face. You began to tremble right there in the library thinking of all the times you’d confided in her, yet here she was—fucking your boyfriend. You picked up your phone again with shaking hands and watched him pull her down for a kiss in that same way he kissed you and you felt your world fracture. The guilt that had been your shadow suddenly vanished, replaced by a cold clarity. Through your blurry eyes filling with tears you see two more notifications.

Unknown Number: He thinks he's alone. Hyung’s always been bad at checking corners.

Unknown Number: It’s Jungwon btw. I believe we have a mutual interest in making sure Sunghoon doesn't get everything he wants. Give me a call if you're tired of being the only one holding the debt.

You hesitated before managing to walk out of the library to dial the number. Jungwon answered on the first ring. "I wondered how long it would take you to watch it," he said sounding entirely too amused with himself.

"Why are you showing me this?" you whispered with a rage you didn't know you had.

"Because my brother has a habit of collecting things he doesn't appreciate," Jungwon said to you. "He likes the way he can make you cry and then make you thank him for it. And I find it so fucking boring. Don’t you think it's insulting to someone with your...potential?"

"What do you want?"

"I just want to see the look on his face when his perfect life finally collapses." You could’ve sworn you could just sense the evil radiating through the phone. "He hates me, you know? He thinks I'm some intruder in his house. Imagine how he'll feel when he finds out his broken little girlfriend is actually mine."

"I'm not yours," you snapped.

"Not yet," Jungwon countered, he really did have alluring energy about him. "But think about it. I’m pretty sure you want revenge and I want to replace him. We could be useful to each other."

You could’ve gotten nominated for an academy award with the way you acted in the weeks leading up to tonight. You played the part of the guilty girlfriend so perfectly, there was no doubt you had him fooled, you nodded when he ranted about his useless problems. You watched him get angry when you told him you couldn’t come to dinner with him, you watched him use your mistake to try and manipulate you into canceling. And for the first time it didn't hurt at all, it just made you want to see him burn even more.

When you first met Jungwon for dinner, you no doubt had your guard up. You fully expected a younger, maybe louder version of Sunghoon. Instead, you found a natural born predator who knew how to hide his teeth really. He was the perfect gentleman, pulling out your chair and listening with an intensity that Sunghoon only ever reserved for his own reflection. He didn't lecture you on your how you’d made a mistake by getting with his step brother in the first place, or that you trusted him too much but by the end of the night you felt like you were the only person in the room.

You had to keep repeating the mantra in your head—they aren't blood, they aren't related. It was the only way to keep the vertigo from taking over. Jungwon was supposedly the intruder in Sunghoon's life, their relationship was simply a byproduct of a second marriage and that distance was exactly what made the idea of him so dangerous.

You didn't intend to go home with him that first night, in fact you didn’t intend to ever go home with him at all and you certainly didn't intend to let him touch you. But then you were in the parking lot and the city lights were blurred by the tinted glass of his car, the air between you turned electric. You quickly found out he had a thing for fucking in cars, maybe it was the claustrophobia of the leather seats or the risk of being seen, you had no idea, all you knew was that it was primal and messy. You also quickly found out you had a thing for how easily he could unravel you.

Sex with Sunghoon always felt like an audition, you were constantly performing for him, having to say the right things so he would be satisfied. Jungwon didn’t care about any of that, he was too focused on the way your face looked when he was bouncing you on his cock, he always made sure you lost your voice and wouldn’t stop until you were shaking and begging.

And tonight in the driveway, he was exactly the same. Pinning you against the backseat and reminding you of exactly what you were about to do. He made you cum so hard you nearly forgot your own name, let alone the fact that you were a mere thirty feet from his family.

"Think of how much he thinks he owns you and then tell me how good this cock feels." It damn sure felt better than anything Sunghoon had ever given you.

Now, as you sit across from Sunghoon at his father's table, you can still feel the faint ache in your thighs, along with the ghost of Jungwon's touch under your dress. You look at Sunghoon, he looks pale as he vibrates with a repressed fury and you realize the debt has almost been paid in full.

As the main course is served and the clink of silverware is the only sound in the room, Sunghoon finally speaks in a voice so low it's almost a growl. "So, Jungwon...exactly how long has this romance been going on? You've been rather quiet about her."

Jungwon takes a slow sip of his wine, his eyes dancing in delight as he looks at you the back at his step brother. "Long enough for me to know she’s the one," he says, reaching under the table to slide his hand up your inner thigh, mere inches away from where Sunghoon's eyes are fixed. "She's so full of surprises, Hyung. I absolutely adore her." He finishes placing a kiss on your cheek at which his mother gushes in excitement.

From then on the night becomes full blown psychological torture for Sunghoon. Every time you laugh at one of his father's dry jokes or offer some soft words to Jungwon’s mother, it’s like you can feel Sunghoon's pulse drumming from across the table. He looks like a man watching his own house burn down while being forced to applaud the flames. The irony is thick enough to choke on. His father, who he has spent his entire life trying to impress is completely charmed by you.

"Sunghoon," his father says, leaning with a rare look of genuine approval on his face. "You should take notes. Jungwon has finally shown some discernment. You'd do well to find a girl just like this lovely lady right here. Not like those...distractions you usually surround yourself with."

Sunghoon's knuckles are white with how hard he’s trying not to scream. He wants to stand up and roar that you are his girl, that you belong in his apartment and under his thumb, drowning in the guilt he spent a month cultivating. But he can't because to speak up now would be to admit he lost control, it would be him admitting that Jungwon, the arrogant intruder, took something right from under his nose.

When dinner finally ends and you and Jungwon reach the doors of the foyer, ready to leave, Sunghoon doesn’t just follow you, he marches towards you and lunges forward, grabbing your wrist with so much force that you wince.

"What the fuck is this, Y/n?" he hissed, his eyes darting between you and his step-brother. "What are you doing here? The bridal shower? You think you can just lie to me and walk into my father's house on his arm?" He turns his anger toward Jungwon. "And you. You think this is some fucking game? You think you can just take whatever—"

"Woah, woah," Jungwon interjects, stepping forward with a lazy calm, not looking the least bit intimidated, he just looks like he's enjoying every second of Sunghoon's meltdown as he places a firm hand on Sunghoon's forearm, forcing him to loosen his grip on you. "Please don't talk to my girlfriend like that, Hyung. It's a bit ungentlemanly, don't you think?"

Sunghoon's eyes go wide as his chest heaves. "Your girlfriend? Jungwon, you have no idea what you're talking about. She’s not—"

"Are you lost, Hoonie?"

You step closer to him, tilting your head and pouting up at him with the same innocence he used to mock you. The look in your eyes is stone cold though, you’re looking at him like he's a stranger and a pathetic one at that. "You seem really confused. Maybe the stress of law school is finally getting to you."

Jungwon chuckles, pulling you back against his side, his arm draping possessively over your waist. "Seems like he is, princess. He's completely lost it."

Jungwon looks his brother up and down, "Tell you what, hyung," he starts. "Why don't you pull up to my penthouse tonight? I feel like I missed out on all the fun the other night. Let's play another game of paranoia. I have a few questions of my own...and I’m sure you want answers."

Sunghoon stands there frozen in the doorway of his own home, as Jungwon leads you toward the car. He even watches the taillights fade until the silence of the estate settles over him like a shroud.

The drive to Jungwon’s place was a blur of neon lights and tight knuckled grips for Sunghoon. His mind was a chaotic mess of logic and jagged anger, he had managed to convince himself he was going there to talk sense into you, to drag you away from the toxic influence of his step brother and remind you of the debt you owed him. But as he stepped out of the elevator and into the sleek entryway of Jungwon's apartment, the air felt different and he began to doubt if he could actually pull it off.

The heavy bass of the music didn't sound like a party to him, it sounded like a taunt.

He walked right to the living room and expected to find you and Jungwon alone in some twisted confrontation. Instead, he was met with a scene that felt like a curated nightmare.

The usual crowd was scattered across the plush sofas. Jake was leaning against the bar, looking entirely too comfortable in Jay’s arms. The litmus test from a month ago had clearly reached its conclusion and Sunghoon was the only one who hadn't been invited to the reveal.

Leah was also there tucked into the corner of a sectional, looking like she wanted to completely disappear. The second Sunghoon's eyes found her, she flinched and dropping her gaze to her hands in her lap. She couldn’t look him in the eye in a way that had Sunghoon wondering if they’d been caught.

Then, he saw you perched comfortably on Jungwon's lap, your fingers idly playing with his chain as if it was the most natural place in the world for you to be. Ume was leaning in close, letting you whisper something into her ear that made her throw her head back in a genuine laugh.

You wouldn't have been brazen enough to invite Calista or Heeseung but this group of people felt more intimate somehow.

"Well, well," a voice chirped, breaking through the ringing in Sunghoon's ears. Jake straightened up as he looked Sunghoon up and down. "Look who decided to show up. You've been a very bad boy, Hoonie. Keeping secrets, hiding away...I didn't think you had it in you to be this messy."

Sunghoon didn't even acknowledge him, his eyes were locked on you, burning with a question he couldn't ask out loud in front of them for fear of humiliation.

Jungwon tightened his hold on your waist and pulled you a fraction closer as he looked up at his brother. The lighting in the penthouse was dim, casting long, predatory shadows across his face. "You're late, Sunghoon," Jungwon said, his voice smooth and almost welcoming, if Sunghoon didn’t know what Jungwon was like, he wouldn’t have noticed the edge his voice carried.

"But don't worry. We haven't started the game yet. We were just waiting for the guest of honor to arrive."

You finally looked at him then, observing his disheveled hair and his erratic breathing with a detached sort of pity that hurt worse than a slap.

"Sit down, Sunghoon," you said mirroring the exact tone he had used on you for weeks. "You look tired. You should have a drink before we start. You're going to need it."

As everyone settled into the makeshift circle, you were clearly the center of gravity on Jungwon's lap, while Sunghoon was an island of his own misery on the far edge of the room.

"Everyone remembers the rules, right?" you asked, your voice cutting through the low hum of the music. You didn't wait for an answer, you immediately leaned into Jungwon, letting your lips brush against the shell of his ear to whisper the first strike. "Who here is a lying, cheating bastard?"

A dark, amused huff escaped him as he looked directly across the space. "Sunghoon."

The silence that followed was deafening. Sunghoon didn't argue, he simply reached for his glass, willing his hand to stop trembling and drained it in one jagged motion. Jungwon's smirk widened as he revealed the question to the room, watching the realization sink into the group like lead.

When the turn moved to Sunghoon, he stared at his empty glass, before muttering a, "Pass."

The room erupted in mock boos and biting whistles. "Afraid of the truth, Sunghoon?" Jake teased before leaning back into Jay's touch. "Golden boy can't even play a party game?"

Jungwon didn't let the momentum die. He leaned toward Ume, whispering a question that made her eyes go wide. She gasped as her hand flew to her mouth. "No way! I don't know—who is it?"

The curiosity in the room spiked while Ume looked around the circle. "The question was...Who here is pregnant?"

Jay and Jake exchanged a stunned look while Sunghoon's gaze darted around frantically, if you weren't reacting, if you were sitting there with that calm smile then it wasn't you. And Ume had already denied it, so that left only one person.

Leah.

Who was sat perfectly still, eyes fixed on a spot on the rug as her face continued to drain of color.

Sunghoon looked at her then at you, feeling the bile rising in his throat. From the pool lounge chair, to the laundry room and every other place he had had sex with her—it all crashed down on him at once, he looked like he was about to be physically sick.

"Leah is pregnant," your voice rang out with a terrifying lack of emotion. The words hit Sunghoon like a physical blow, he had spent a month trying to make you pay for cheating on him with Jay, all while he was planting the seeds of his own destruction in a girl he treated like a toy.

"Is it true?" Sunghoon asked her with his voice sounding like it was being dragged over broken glass. He looked at Leah, eyes wide with a mix of horror and disgust. "Leah, she’s just fucking around, right?"

The silence was her confession.

"Sounds like hyung has some responsibilities he forgot to mention to the family," Jungwon mused, "I wonder what father would think about his future law student starting a family a little ahead of schedule?"

Jake, ever the catalyst of drama leaned into Leah’s space to whisper in her ear, who looked like she was vibrating, a single sob catching in her throat as she forced out a name. "Sunghoon."

Sunghoon didn't even wait for the reveal, he immediately reached for the bottle this time, not a glass to take a desperate swig.

"The question," Jake announced with terrifying cheerfulness, "was, Who here is your baby daddy?"

"You're a lying bitch!" Sunghoon roared, finally losing the mask of superiority he'd worn like a shield for years. He surged forward, his finger pointed at Leah like a weapon. "You're lying! You're trying to trap me because you're obsessed with what Y/n and I have—you'd say anything to stay in my life!"

Leah finally looked up and the fear was gone, now replaced by an intensity that made her eyes burn. "I'm not lying, Sunghoon! I have never been with anyone else! You were my first and only one. You know I'm not lying! Did you ever wear a condom with me? You took everything from me and now you want to call me a liar?" "Screw you."

The silence that followed was so heavy that Jay and Jake couldn’t even mock him anymore, all they could do was just watch the car crash with satisfied expressions. Sunghoon looked around the room with wild eyes, looking for anyone to defend him but he lost all hope when you snorted, "What Y/n and I have is crazy, Sunghoon."

You looked at him with a gaze so filled with fake tenderness that it felt like a twist of a knife.

"Oh, Hoonie," you cooed, echoing the way he used to comfort you after making you cry your eyes out. "Don't be like that. This is a blessing, isn't it?"

"Think about it this way," you continued, "A little girl who looks just like you or maybe even a boy with your grace. You, Leah and the baby. You're going to make such a beautiful family. I can already see the Christmas cards. I'm sure your father will be so proud to see his legacy continuing so...unexpectedly."

Sunghoon looked at you as the realization truly sank in, the realization that the girl he thought he'd broken was the one who had choreographed his funeral.

"I'll even help with the baby shower," you added, the pout returning to your lips. "Since I missed my sister's bridal shower, I have plenty of free time now."

Jungwon let out a low chuckle, his hand sliding up to the back of your neck to tangle his fingers in your hair. "Hear that, Hyung? My princess is even offering to help. You really should be more grateful." He said to him before leaning to Ume to whisper in her ear but she immediately threw her hands up in frustration, the constant whispering finally getting on her nerves. "Seriously? I don't know! Why am I the one getting the hard ones?" She pouted, turning to the circle with her voice loud and fed up. "How am I meant to know who here has lost their inheritance? What does that even mean?"

Sunghoons head snapped toward Jungwon, the defensive look in his eyes was replaced by a sudden dread. He didn't reach for the glass this time, he could barely move.

"What the fuck are you on about, Jungwon?" Sunghoon's voice was a ghost of its former self, all thin and terrified. Jungwon, on the other hand didn't even look up from where he was tracing patterns on your thigh.

"Don’t tell me you didn’t read the fine print, Hyung?" Jungwon asked, "I guess you were so busy being a manipulative cunt that you didn't read the updated trust clauses father had us sign last year."

Jungwon finally looked at him. "It's a purity clause. Father is obsessed with the family image, you should know that better than anyone. It's written in black and white tha any son who produces an illegitimate child, especially one that creates a social scandal, automatically forfeits their entire inheritance. Every cent. The trust, the property, the firm...it all funnels into a single beneficiary."

Jungwon explained and pulled you closer against his chest, "And since I'm currently the only son without a pregnant side chick...it looks like I'm about to become very, very wealthy."

Sunghoon looked like he was seconds away from passing out. His eyes shifted between you and Leah, who was still trembling and clutching her stomach area. One, the girl who had been his broken possession and the other girl who was now the only thing standing between him and complete ruin—and you were sitting comfortably in the lap of the man who was taking his whole life away.

"You knew," he whispered, his gaze landing on you. "You both knew."

"Knew that what, Sunghoon?" "No one asked you to cheat and get a girl pregnant."

"I’d check your pocket if I were you, Hyung," Jungwon said. "I’m pretty sure you’re about to get a call. And you know Father—he hates being kept waiting."

Right on cue, the sharp ringtone of Sunghoon’s phone cut through the sound of Leah’s crying. The name on the screen was enough to make Sunghoon’s knees buckle. He answered with a trembling hand. "Father—"

"You fucking embarrassment!"

The shout was so loud it echoed through the silent room making Sunghoon flinch as if he’d been struck.

"Tell me Jungwon is mistaken!" his father roared over the line. "Tell me you didn't get some girl pregnant! Tell me you haven't been dragging our name through the mud while I was planning your future!"

Sunghoon looked at you as you slowly pressed a lingering kiss to Jungwon’s lips that made him smile.

"Father, please, she’s...she’s a liar," Sunghoon choked out as he looked at Leah. "She’s trying to trap me, I swear—"

Leah’s sob broke into a scream at the word liar but no one moved to comfort her. In the background, Ume was busy gushing over Jay and Jake, her voice a cheerful anddistorted contrast to the carnage. "Oh my god, you guys are actually the cutest! Why did you wait so long?" She pouted at them, watching Jay nuzzle his face deeper to Jake’s neck

"I don't want to hear it!" his father’s voice got louder and louder. "If you’re man enough to play these games then I suppose you’re man enough to fund them. You’re cut off, Sunghoon. Don't bother coming back to the estate to beg for anything! As of right now, you do not exist to me."

The line went dead before he could even think of any sort of explanation to give the man.

The phone slipped from Sunghoon’s fingers and clattered on the floor. He looked at you, then at the happy couple Ume was currently asking a million questions about how they first got together, and finally he looked at the pregnant girl in the corner.

He had spent his life trying to be a masterpiece of calculated moves and manipulative counters but in the end, he was just a footnote in your story.

"Time to go, Hyung," Jungwon said to him with a voice filled with satisfied pity. "You’ve got a family to take care of now."

Before the words could even reach Sunghoon’s ears properly, Jungwon moved with a sudden burst of energy, he hooked his arm around your waist and hoisted you up.

A startled squeal escaped you as you were flipped over his shoulder, your legs kicking out instinctively. "Jungwon! Put me down!" you laughed a mocking laugh that echoed off the walls.

Jungwon didn't listen to you, tightening his grip on your thighs instead as he began to stride toward the hallway. You looked back over his shoulder one last time to see Sunghoon standing frozen like a ghost in a room full of people who had already forgotten him.

"Bye bye, Hoonie!" you called out sweetly with a final dose of irony.

When the heavy door to Jungwon’s bedroom clicked shut, it instantly muffled the sounds of Leah’s crying and the silence of the foyer. Jungwon set you down gently against the door, his hands immediately finding your waist. "So, how did that feel?" he whispered as his eyes searched yours and his thumb traced the line of your lower lip. "Seeing him lose everything?"

"Exhilarating," you breathed, sliding your hands up to cup his face. It wasn't just about the revenge or the power shift anymore.

Jungwon’s expression softened as he looked at you. He didn't just see a partner in a scheme, he saw the only person who truly understood the darkness he had grown up in.

"Good," he murmured with a genuine warmth he saved only for you. "Because from now on, you don't ever have to play for second place again."

He leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss that wasn't for show or for an audience. It was slow, deep, and filled with a real affection—a promise that while the rest of your world was built on paranoia and lies, what was happening in this room was the only thing that was real.

nene’s note ── posting this from the hospital cause my mama didn’t raise no bitch! i loveeee feedback and i hope this met the expectations of everyone who was anticipating it! enjoy💋💋💋

that part snuck up on you slowly, then all at once. first it was admiration—the way he planned everything three steps ahead, the way he never seemed rattled even when things went wrong. then it was fascination—the contrast between his delicate features and the absolute brutality he was capable of, the way he hummed cheerfully while cleaning blood off his knives. and then somewhere along the way it became this. this aching, desperate, all-consuming thing that lived in your chest and made it hard to breathe when he looked at you for too long.

you memorised his coffee order (iced americano, extra shot, barely any water because he was a psychopath apparently), the way he liked his knives arranged (smallest to largest, always within arm's reach), the exact angle his mouth curved when he was genuinely amused versus when he was pretending. you knew he tapped his fingers against his thigh when he was thinking, that he rolled his shoulders back exactly twice before a fight, that he had a tiny scar behind his left ear that you only saw once when his hair was wet.

it was embarrassing how much you noticed. how much you cared.

and the worst part? he absolutely knew. had to know. because you weren't subtle, not even a little bit. you volunteered for every job he mentioned, stayed up late sharpening his weapons even though your hands cramped, laughed too loud at things that weren't that funny just because he was the one saying them. you were obvious and desperate and so fucking transparent it hurt.

he never said anything about it though. never acknowledged the way you looked at him, never called you out on the fact that you basically reorganised your entire existence around him. he just let you orbit him like some pathetic satellite, close enough to be useful but never close enough to actually touch.

tonight started like any other night. you got back from a job—something small, just roughing up some hero-wannabe who was getting too close to one of sunoo's operations—and you were still riding the adrenaline high. your knuckles were scraped, your shirt had someone else's blood on it, and you felt alive in a way you never did doing anything else. sunoo had that effect. he made even the violent things feel like they mattered, like you were part of something bigger.

you found him in the main area of the warehouse, surrounded by his collection. that's what you called it in your head—his collection. knives of every size and style, some plain and practical, others ornate and clearly expensive. he was meticulous about maintaining them, spending hours with whetstones and oil, handling each blade like it was precious. like it was loved.

you wondered sometimes what it would feel like to be handled like that. with care. with attention. with those elegant fingers tracing over every detail like it mattered.

god, you needed help.

"you're back early," he said without looking up from the blade he was cleaning. the silk cloth in his hand was already stained red—whether from today or yesterday or last week, you couldn't tell. "did he give you trouble?"

"no. he folded pretty quick." you dropped your jacket on the back of a chair, trying not to wince at the bruise forming on your ribs. it was nothing serious. you had worse. "threatened to call in backup though. might want to move up the timeline on the next phase."

"mm. predictable." he set down the knife he was working on, finally glancing up at you. his gaze swept over you quickly, cataloguing injuries with the efficiency of someone who did this a thousand times. "you're hurt."

"it's nothing."

"i didn't ask if it was nothing. i said you're hurt." he stood then, moving toward you with that fluid grace that made your mouth go dry. "sit."

you sat. because you always did what he told you to do, because you were completely gone for him and had zero self-respect apparently.

he pulled out the first aid kit—the actual one, not the piece of shit drugstore version you kept in your bag—and started cleaning the scrapes on your knuckles. his touch was gentle, almost tender, and it made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with the bruised ribs. this was the worst part. when he acted like he cared, like you were more than just a useful tool. it made you hope for things you had no business hoping for.

"you need to stop leading with your right," he murmured, wrapping gauze around your knuckles with practiced ease. "you're too obvious. anyone paying attention would see it coming."

"noted." your voice came out rougher than intended. he was so close, close enough that you could smell his cologne, could count his eyelashes if you wanted to. could see the way his lips parted slightly when he concentrated. "i'll work on it."

"you better. i don't need my best enforcer getting sloppy." he finished with your hands and moved on to checking your ribs, fingers pressing carefully against the bruised area. you hissed at the contact and he made this sympathetic sound that absolutely destroyed you. "not broken. you'll be fine in a few days."

"i'm always fine."

"because i take care of you." he looked up then, meeting your eyes, and there was something in his expression you couldn't read. something that made your stomach flip. "someone has to."

you wanted to ask what he meant by that. wanted to ask if he felt even a fraction of what you felt, if he ever thought about you the way you thought about him, if he ever lay awake at night replaying conversations and analysing every word for hidden meaning. but you couldn't. because if he said no, if he confirmed what you already knew—that this was one-sided and pathetic and you were just setting yourself up for heartbreak—you'd shatter into so many pieces you'd never find them all.

so instead you just said, "thanks."

he smiled at that. small and private, like you said something amusing. "you're welcome, sweetheart."

and there it was. that stupid pet name that made your entire nervous system short-circuit every single time. he used it so casually, like it didn't mean anything, like he didn't know it made you want to do something insane like grab him and kiss him until neither of you could breathe.

he packed up the first aid kit and went back to his knives, settling into his chair like nothing happened. like he didn't just touch you with those careful hands and call you sweetheart and make you fall even more impossibly in love with him.

you moved to the other side of the table, pulling out the whetstone and selecting one of his knives to sharpen. it was something to do with your hands, something to focus on that wasn't the way your heart was still racing or the phantom feeling of his fingers against your skin. you fell into the familiar rhythm—the slide of the blade against stone, the steady pressure, the high-pitched ring of metal being honed to a perfect edge.

this was safe. this was manageable. you could handle sitting across from him, sharing space, existing in his orbit as long as you had something to concentrate on. as long as you didn't think too hard about how domestic this felt, how right, like you were two halves of something that fit together perfectly.

you were at it for maybe twenty minutes when you felt his eyes on you. that prickling awareness that came from being watched, the weight of his attention making your hands want to shake even though you kept them steady through sheer force of will.

"you're staring again," he said without looking up, and there was this amused lilt to his voice that made your stomach flip. he knew. he always knew when you were looking, when your thoughts went somewhere they shouldn't, when your breath caught because he moved too close or smiled that specific way that made you want to do something stupid.

"sorry," you mumbled, forcing your eyes away, focusing instead on the knife in your hands. you were sharpening them for the past hour, hands steady even though your pulse wasn't. even though being this close to him made your skin feel too tight, made every nerve ending hyperaware of the space between your bodies.

he laughed. it was soft, almost fond, which was worse somehow. "no you're not."

and he was right. you weren't sorry. you'd never be sorry for looking at him, for memorising the curve of his smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he was genuinely amused versus when he was about to kill someone. you catalogued every detail of him like your life depended on it. maybe it did.

the sound of his footsteps made you tense before you felt his presence behind you, close enough that you could smell his cologne—something expensive and sharp that made your head spin. his hand came down on the table beside yours, fingers splayed, and you could see the old scars across his knuckles, the elegant length of his fingers. he was so close. too close. not close enough.

"we have a job tomorrow," he said, voice low and right by your ear. your hands stilled on the whetstone, breath catching. "the heroes are sending their best. should be fun."

fun. he called it fun. you called it watching him dance through combat like he was untouchable, like nothing in the world could hurt him, while your heart tried to claw its way out of your chest because what if this was the time something went wrong? what if—

"you're thinking too loud," sunoo murmured, and then his fingers were under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. they were so dark, pupils blown wide in the dim light, and there was something in his expression you couldn't read. something that made your stomach drop and soar at the same time. "i'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. i've told you this."

the pet name made heat crawl up your neck. he used it sometimes, always with this teasing edge that made you want to combust on the spot. you knew he didn't mean it the way you wanted him to mean it. knew he saw you as useful, as entertaining maybe, but not—

his thumb brushed across your bottom lip and your brain short-circuited.

"you know what i like about you?" he asked, conversational, like he wasn't currently making your entire nervous system malfunction. like his touch wasn't burning itself into your skin in a way you'd never recover from. "you're so easy to read. every thought shows on your face."

oh god. if he could read your thoughts then he knew—he knew about the embarrassing dreams, the way you watched him constantly, the fact that you'd burn the entire world down if he asked you to. the fact that you were so stupidly, desperately, pathetically in love with him it physically hurt sometimes.

you tried to pull away but his grip tightened, not painful but firm, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. "i didn't say you could move."

your heart was hammering so hard you were sure he could hear it. "sunoo—"

"shh." his thumb pressed against your lips, silencing you, and his smile was sharp enough to cut. "you're always so obedient. it's almost boring."

that stung. you knew you were boring compared to him, knew you were just—just there, useful for sharpening his knives and handling the boring logistics and worshipping the ground he walked on like some kind of devoted dog. but hearing him say it made something crack in your chest.

you bit down on his thumb. not hard enough to break skin but enough to surprise him, to show some kind of spine even though your hands were shaking. his eyes widened fractionally before something dangerous slid across his features, something that made every survival instinct scream at you to run.

you didn't run. you never ran from him.

"there she is," he breathed, and he sounded almost delighted. his hand moved from your chin to your throat, not squeezing, just resting there, and you could feel your pulse jumping against his palm. "i was wondering when you'd stop being so scared of me."

"i'm not scared of you," you managed, voice rough. it was true. you weren't scared of him. you were scared of how much you wanted him, how you'd let him ruin you completely and thank him for it, how there wasn't a version of your future that didn't have him in it.

"liar," he said, but he was smiling now, really smiling, and it made him look younger. softer. like maybe underneath the villain there was still some part of the boy he must have been before. "you're terrified. but not of me hurting you."

his fingers flexed against your throat and you stopped breathing.

"you're scared i don't want you back."

the world tilted. your ears were ringing. had he just—did he mean—

"i—" you couldn't form words. your brain had completely shut down, every thought scattering like startled birds. "what?"

sunoo leaned in closer, so close his breath ghosted across your lips, and his eyes were so dark, so intense it felt like falling. "you think i don't notice? the way you watch me, the way your breathing changes when i get close, the way you'd do anything i asked without question?" 

his voice dropped lower, almost a purr. "you think i don't know you're completely obsessed with me?"

you wanted to deny it. wanted to salvage some scrap of dignity. but what was the point? he was right. he was always right about you.

"and what if i am?" you whispered, because fuck it. fuck pride, fuck self-preservation. you were already his in every way that mattered.

his smile turned wicked. "then you should know something." his thumb traced your jawline, gentle in a way that made your chest ache. "tomorrow, during the fight. one of them is going to get lucky. you're going to see something that might scare you."

your blood went cold. "what do you mean?"

"you'll see." he pulled back slightly, expression unreadable. "just remember—i told you i'm not going anywhere."

"sunoo, if you're in danger—"

"i'm not the one in danger, sweetheart. i never am." there was something strange in his voice now, something almost vulnerable. "the heroes are. they just don't know it yet."

he pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled away completely, leaving you frozen at the table, heart in pieces, mind racing.

tomorrow. something was going to happen tomorrow. something that would scare you. but you'd be there anyway, because where else would you be except at his side, watching him tear through heroes like they were nothing, bleeding devotion from every pore?

you were so fucked.

the abandoned district was perfect for what sunoo had planned. empty warehouses stretched out in every direction, windows shattered and walls tagged with graffiti, the typical place heroes loved to use for their dramatic confrontations. you perched on a rusted fire escape three stories up, exactly where sunoo told you to wait, and tried to keep your breathing steady.

you hated this part. the waiting. the watching. being stuck on the sidelines when you were perfectly capable of fighting alongside him.

it was always like this. sunoo never let you join the actual fights, not the important ones anyway. he'd let you handle the small stuff—roughing up informants, dealing with low-level heroes, the grunt work that kept his operations running. and you were good at it. you'd proven yourself over and over, taken down targets efficiently and without complications. but the moment things got serious, the moment real danger showed up, he stuck you somewhere safe and told you to watch.

it drove you insane. made you feel useless, like some helpless thing that needed protecting instead of the competent fighter you'd worked so hard to become. you'd asked him about it once and he'd just given you this soft and unreadable look and said, "humour me."

so here you were again, benched, watching him stand in the centre of the street below with his hands in his pockets, looking like he was waiting for a bus instead of an ambush.

"relax," sunoo called up to you, and you could hear the smile in his voice even from this distance. "you're so tense i can feel it from here."

"maybe because there's supposed to be five of them," you shot back, fingers gripping the railing hard enough to hurt. "and you won't let me help."

"you are helping. you're watching." he pulled out one of his knives—the small one, the one he used for warmups—and examined it in the dim streetlight. "making sure no one tries to run. very important job."

"sunoo—"

"we've talked about this, sweetheart." his voice was still light but there was an edge to it now, that tone that meant the discussion was over. "you stay up there where it's safe. this is non-negotiable."

you wanted to argue. wanted to climb down there and prove you could handle yourself, that you didn't need to be protected like some fragile thing. but you knew that tone. knew it meant he'd already made up his mind and nothing you said would change it.

it didn't make sense anyway. sunoo was invincible—literally, actually invincible. you'd watched heroes land hits that should have shattered bone and he just shrugged them off like they were nothing. watched him take knife wounds and gunshots and falls that would kill anyone else, and he'd just stand back up without a scratch. he'd never even bled in front of you, not once in two years. his superpower made him untouchable in a way that should have meant he worried about himself, not you.

but he did worry. kept you away from danger with an almost obsessive focus, like the thought of you getting hurt was worse than anything the heroes could do to him.

you were about to tell him exactly how annoying that was when you felt it—the shift in the air that meant they were here. heroes. you'd gotten good at sensing them over the past two years, the way they moved with that self-righteous confidence, like the world owed them something for existing.

they came from three directions at once. the one in front was taehyun, some rising star with enhanced strength who'd been making headlines for taking down minor villains. flanking him were two others you didn't recognise—a girl with electricity crackling between her fingers and a guy who looked like he could bench press a car. the last two dropped down from the rooftops behind sunoo, cutting off his escape routes.

classic hero formation. surround and overwhelm.

sunoo just laughed.

"taehyun, right?" he said, spinning the knife between his fingers in that casual way that made your stomach flip even now, even in the middle of this. "i've heard about you. something about justice and protecting the innocent?" he tilted his head, fox-like eyes glinting with amusement. "boring."

"kim sunoo," taehyun said, and his voice had that hero quality—all noble and dramatic. "you're under arrest for—"

"yeah, yeah, crimes against humanity, murder, blah blah." sunoo waved his free hand dismissively. "can we skip the speech? i have plans later."

the electricity girl didn't wait for permission. she lunged forward, hands crackling with power, and you stopped breathing because she was fast, faster than you expected, and her fingers were reaching for sunoo's throat and—

he moved.

it wasn't even a dodge, really. more like he just wasn't there anymore, sliding to the side with that liquid grace that made violence look like dancing. his knife flashed once, twice, and suddenly electricity girl was stumbling back with shallow cuts across her arms, blood blooming bright against her costume.

"first blood," sunoo said cheerfully. "anyone else want to try?"

they all moved at once.

you'd seen sunoo fight before. watched him take down heroes and villains and anyone stupid enough to get in his way. but it never stopped being mesmerising, the way he moved through combat like he was performing, like every strike was choreographed for maximum effect. his knives caught the streetlight as they spun, as he ducked under the strongman's punch and came up slashing, as he used taehyun's own momentum against him to send him crashing into a wall.

he was playing with them. you could tell by the smile on his face, the way he hummed under his breath between strikes. this wasn't a fight to him, more likev entertainment.

one of the heroes from the rooftop—a speedster with silver hair who moved almost too fast to track—managed to get behind sunoo and land a solid kick to his spine. you heard the impact from three stories up, heard the way it should have done damage, but sunoo just turned around slowly, rolling his shoulders back twice—that pre-fight tell you'd memorised—and smiled. "nice hit."

not a scratch, not even a bruise forming all thanks to his invincibility. it was like the hit never happened.

the speedster went for another strike and sunoo met him halfway, knife finding the gap in his defences like he'd known exactly where it would be. like he'd planned for it. blood sprayed and the speedster went down hard, clutching his leg.

taehyun roared something about protecting his team and charged again, enhanced strength making the ground crack under his feet. his fist connected with sunoo's jaw in a hit that should have broken bones, should have knocked him unconscious, should have mattered.

sunoo's head snapped to the side from the impact.

and then he straightened up and grinned, completely unharmed, looking absolutely delighted.

"my turn," he said.

what happened next was terrifying in how easy he made it look. sunoo moved through them like they were nothing, knives finding soft spots and weak points with surgical precision. the strongman went down with a knife in his shoulder. electricity girl tried to taser him and he let the electricity hit him full force, let it crawl across his skin in a way that should have stopped his heart, and just caught her wrist mid-attack, twisted, sent her crashing into the speedster who was trying to get back up.

taehyun lasted the longest, his enhanced strength letting him trade blows with sunoo in a way that would have been impressive if it made any difference. but even he couldn't do anything that stuck. every hit that connected—and there were several, hard enough that you felt them in your own bones—sunoo just absorbed like they were gentle taps.

you watched taehyun land a hit to sunoo's ribs that cracked the concrete behind him. watched him get thrown into a wall hard enough to leave an impact crater. watched electricity crawl across his entire body in a sustained attack that made the streetlights flicker.

and sunoo just kept going.

he fought the way he did everything else—with casual, terrifying ease, like the concept of being hurt didn't apply to him.

because it didn't. nothing could hurt him. that was his power, his gift, the thing that made him untouchable and terrifying and invincible.

"impossible," taehyun gasped, on his knees now, one arm hanging useless. "nothing works. nothing even slows you down."

"mm. perceptive." sunoo crouched in front of him, knife spinning lazily between his fingers. "you know what your problem is? you keep trying to hurt me. but you can't." he leaned in closer, voice dropping to something almost intimate. "no one can. i'm invincible, hero. completely and utterly untouchable."

"everyone has a weakness," electricity girl spat from where she was slumped against the wall. "everyone can be hurt by something."

sunoo's expression shifted. something flickered across his face—dangerous and possessive and real in a way that made your breath catch. "mm. true."

he stood, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket. there wasn't a mark on him. not a scratch, not a bruise, nothing to indicate he'd just fought five enhanced heroes. "but my weakness isn't here. and even if it was, you'd never reach it."

he stepped over taehyun's prone form and walked away, hands in his pockets, humming that same melody from earlier. like he'd just finished a light workout instead of taking down five enhanced heroes.

you were down the fire escape before you consciously decided to move, feet hitting the ground and carrying you toward him. he caught you easily when you crashed into his chest, arms coming around you, and you hated how good it felt. how safe.

"told you," he murmured into your hair. "nothing to worry about."

you pulled back just enough to look at him, hands fisting in his jacket. "you let him hit you in the ribs. you let the electricity girl taser you for like ten straight seconds."

"had to make it interesting." his fingers came up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your cheekbone. "can't just dodge everything. that would be boring."

"you're insane."

"and you're beautiful when you're worried about me." his smile was softer now, private, meant just for you. "even though you know nothing can hurt me. isn't that interesting?"

you didn't know what to say to that. didn't know how to explain that knowing he was invincible and watching him take hits were two different things. that your heart still stopped every time even though your brain knew he was fine.

"come on," he said, taking your hand. "let's go home."

the walk back to the warehouse was quiet. sunoo kept his fingers laced with yours, thumb stroking absent patterns against your skin, and you tried not to think about how natural it felt. how right.

"you know why i don't let you fight with me," he said eventually, and it wasn't a question.

"because you're overprotective and slightly unhinged?"

he laughed, soft and genuine. "well, yes. but also because you can get hurt. you don't have invincibility. you're human and fragile and one lucky hit could—" his fingers tightened around yours. "i can't risk that."

"i can handle myself."

"i know you can." he pulled you closer as you walked, until your shoulders brushed. "i've seen you fight. you're good. really good. but good doesn't matter when you're going up against enhanced heroes who could kill you by accident. and i—" he stopped walking, turned to face you fully. "i can't watch you get hurt. i won't."

there was something raw in his voice. something that made your chest ache.

"nothing can hurt me," he continued, quieter now. "i've tested it. knives, bullets, fire, electricity, falls from buildings, poison, everything. i'm completely invincible. but that doesn't mean i don't understand pain." his hand came up to cup your face, thumb tracing your bottom lip. "i just experience it differently now. through you."

your breath caught. "sunoo—"

"so humuor me," he murmured. "stay safe. stay where i put you. let me keep you away from things that could hurt you. because that's the only thing that actually scares me anymore."

you didn't know what to say. didn't know how to process the fact that he'd just admitted you were his weakness, his only weakness, the one thing that could touch him in a world where nothing else could.

"okay," you whispered, and his smile was devastating.

"good girl."

***

the warehouse was exactly as you'd left it—knives still spread across the table, first aid kit still out from earlier even though you both knew he'd never need it. sunoo headed straight for his chair and started pulling out his weapons, laying them on the silk cloth with careful precision. they were all dirty. blood and god knows what else staining the metal.

you grabbed the cleaning supplies without being asked and settled into the chair across from him, reaching for the first knife. it was automatic now, this routine. he fought, you cleaned. he destroyed, you maintained. two halves of something that worked.

"not that one," sunoo said, plucking the blade from your fingers. "start with the small ones. work your way up."

you rolled your eyes but switched knives, selecting one of his favorites—a thin stiletto with a pearl handle. your hands were steadier than they should be as you wiped away the blood, as you checked the edge for damage. muscle memory from hundreds of nights just like this one.

except tonight was different. tonight felt charged somehow, the air between you thick with something unspoken. maybe it was what he'd said during the walk back. maybe it was the way he kept looking at you, dark eyes tracking every movement.

maybe it was the fact that you were aware now. aware of every breath, every small shift. the way his knee was almost touching yours under the table. the way his fingers moved over his knives with the same careful attention he'd touched you with earlier.

"you're holding it wrong," he said after a few minutes, and then he was standing, moving around the table, and your mouth went dry because he was right there, pressed against your back, his hand covering yours on the knife.

"i'm holding it the same way i always do," you managed, but your voice came out breathless and you wanted to die.

"mm. and you've always done it wrong." his fingers adjusted your grip, tilting the blade at a different angle. his hand was cold against your wrist, long fingers wrapping around easily, and you could feel his breath against your neck. "like this. see the difference?"

you didn't see anything. couldn't see anything past the fact that he was touching you, that his chest was pressed against your shoulders, that if you tilted your head back even slightly it would rest against his collarbone.

"better," he murmured, and his thumb stroked once across your pulse point before he let go and stepped back. 

you forced yourself to focus on the knife, on cleaning the blood from the blade with hands that shook slightly. he settled back into his chair and picked up another weapon, and you tried not to notice the way he watched you. the weight of his attention making your skin feel too tight.

the silence stretched between you like a living thing. 

"you're being quiet," he said eventually.

"just thinking."

"about?"

about how you just told five heroes i'm your weakness. about how you keep me away from danger like i'm something precious. about how you said you experience pain through me now. about how i want to touch you so badly it physically hurts. about how i'd let you ruin me and thank you for it.

"stuff," you said instead.

he laughed, soft and low, and it slid down your spine like honey. "liar."

you looked up and found him already watching you, and there was something in his expression that made your breath catch. something hungry and knowing. like he could see straight through you to all the desperate, pathetic thoughts you were trying so hard to hide.

"i'm going to kiss you," he said, casual as discussing the weather. "eventually. when you're ready."

your brain short-circuited. the knife clattered against the table and you barely noticed. "what?"

"you heard me." he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking absolutely delighted by your reaction. "but not yet. you're not ready yet."

"i'm not—" you couldn't even finish the sentence. couldn't form coherent thoughts past the sudden, overwhelming certainty that you were extremely ready. had been ready for approximately two years.

"you think you are," he said, reading your mind again somehow. "but i want you to understand what it means first."

"understand what?"

"that if i kiss you, i'm keeping you." his eyes were so dark, pinning you in place. "that you're mine. that i don't share and i don't let go." he tilted his head, studying you. "that the only person in the world who matters to me is the same person i'd burn the world down for."

the air felt too thick. you couldn't breathe. couldn't think past the absolute certainty in his voice, the way he said it like it was fact, like there was no other possible outcome.

"so take your time," he continued, picking up another knife. "figure out if that's what you want. because once we start this, sweetheart, there's no going back."

you stared at him. at this beautiful, terrifying, impossible man who'd just offered you everything you'd ever wanted and told you to think about it. like you hadn't already decided. like you weren't already his in every way that mattered.

but you didn't say that. instead you picked up your knife and went back to cleaning, hands somehow steady despite the way your heart was trying to punch through your ribs.

you could feel him smiling without looking up.

the rest of the night passed in that same charged silence, every small movement loaded with meaning. his fingers brushing yours when he handed you a new blade. the way his knee pressed against yours under the table. the absolute suffocating awareness of his presence, his attention, his want.

by the time you finished cleaning the last knife, you were wound so tight you thought you might shatter. sunoo stood and stretched, shirt riding up just enough to show a sliver of skin, and you looked away before you did something stupid like stare.

"go home," he said softly. "get some sleep. we'll talk more tomorrow."

you wanted to argue. wanted to stay. wanted to grab him and kiss him and tell him you didn't need time to think, that you'd already chosen him the moment he offered you something that mattered.

but you just nodded and gathered your things, because he was right. you needed to think. needed to process what he'd said, what it all meant.

the next morning, sunoo acted like nothing happened.

you showed up at the warehouse around noon, earlier than usual because you'd barely slept, mind racing with everything he'd said the night before, everything he'd implied with those careful touches and devastating words. 

you found him at the table organising his knife collection like it was just another day, and he looked up when you walked in with that same casual smile he always wore, the one that gave nothing away. "coffee's on the counter. still hot."

he didn’t mention the fight, or the charged silence while cleaning knives, to the way he'd touched you like you were precious, to the fact that he'd basically told you he was in love with you and then sent you home to think about it. he was just normal. perfectly, maddeningly normal, like the night before had never happened at all.

"thanks," you said slowly, watching his face for any sign of something, anything that would indicate he remembered what he'd said, but his expression was perfectly neutral. friendly in that distant way that made your chest ache with something sharp and painful.

he went back to his knives without another word and you grabbed the coffee, made exactly how you liked it because of course he knew, because he paid attention to every single detail about you even when he pretended not to care. 

you settled into your usual chair and the silence felt different now, heavier somehow, weighted with all the things he'd said and apparently didn't mean. you kept waiting for him to say something, to reference what had happened, to look at you the way he had last night like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. but he didn't. he just hummed under his breath while he polished his blades and acted like you were exactly what you'd always been. his sidekick. his weapon cleaner. his nothing.

it made you want to scream.

"we have a job tonight," he said eventually, still not looking at you, still focused on the knife in his hands like it was more interesting than you could ever be. "information gathering. should be simple."

"okay."

"you'll handle the south entrance. i'll take north. in and out, no engagement."

"sure."

he finally glanced up and for just a second, barely a heartbeat, you thought you saw something flicker in his expression. something soft and vulnerable that made hope bloom stupidly in your chest. but then it was gone and he was back to business, back to treating you like an employee instead of someone he'd held close and whispered promises to. 

"good. be ready by eight."

you wanted to ask what the fuck last night was about. wanted to demand he explain why he could say things like i've been yours since the moment i found you and then act like you were just another person on his payroll. wanted to grab him by the shoulders and make him look at you properly, make him acknowledge what had happened between you. but you didn't. because maybe you'd imagined it all. maybe you'd read too much into his words, into the tension that had felt so real, into everything. maybe this was just how he was and you were pathetic for thinking it meant something more.

so you just nodded and drank your coffee and pretended your heart wasn't cracking into smaller and smaller pieces with every second of his indifference.

it became a pattern after that, this torture of back and forth that made you feel like you were losing your mind. sunoo would have these moments, these brief and devastating instances where he'd touch you like you were precious, where he'd say things that made your entire world tilt sideways, where he'd look at you like you were the answer to every question he'd never asked. and then the next day he'd be distant and professional again. like the intimacy had never happened at all, like you'd dreamt the whole thing.

three days after the knife-cleaning incident, you were inventorying supplies in the back room, trying to focus on the mundane task and not think about him, when you felt eyes on you. you knew without looking that it was sunoo, could feel the weight of his attention like a physical touch, and you let him watch for a full minute before you finally turned around.

"can i help you?" you asked, trying to sound normal and failing miserably.

he pushed off the doorframe where he'd been leaning and walked toward you, slow and deliberate, each step measured like he was stalking prey. you backed up instinctively until you hit the shelves and then he was right there, close enough that you could smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his body. 

"you've been quiet lately."

"i'm always quiet," you managed, even though your heart was trying to punch through your ribs.

"no. you're always thinking. there's a difference." his hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers lingered against your neck, thumb pressing gently against your pulse point like he was counting your heartbeats. "what's going on in that head of yours?"

you. always you. the way you touch me like this and then don't talk to me for days. the way i can't tell if i'm losing my mind or if you actually feel something for me. the way you're driving me insane with this hot and cold routine and i don't know how much more i can take.

"nothing important," you said instead, because you were a coward who couldn't handle the possibility of rejection.

his eyes searched yours for a long moment, dark and intense and unreadable in a way that made you want to scream with frustration. then he leaned in close enough that his lips brushed against your ear and his breath was hot on your skin. "liar."

and then he walked away like he hadn't just touched you in a way that made your knees weak, like he hadn't just proven once again that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

the next two days he communicated exclusively through text messages about jobs, brief and professional, like you were just another contact in his phone instead of someone he'd had pressed against a shelf with his hand on your throat.

a week later you made the mistake of wearing a new shirt, nothing special really, just something that actually fit properly instead of the oversized hoodies you usually hid in. sunoo took one look at you when you walked into the warehouse and went completely still, his entire body tensing in a way that made your breath catch.

"what?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious under the weight of his stare, resisting the urge to cross your arms over your chest.

"nothing." but his eyes were tracking over you slowly, taking in every detail in a way that made heat crawl up your neck and spread across your cheeks. "you look nice."

"it's just a shirt," you said, aiming for dismissive and landing somewhere closer to flustered.

"mm." he crossed the room and then his hand was settling on your waist like it belonged there. just resting there with his thumb stroking against your hip bone through the fabric in a way that made it impossible to think. "suits you."

your breath caught in your throat and his hand was so warm, his touch burning through the thin material of the shirt, and he was close, so close that you could see the exact shade of his eyes and count his eyelashes and smell the mint from whatever he'd been drinking. your brain went completely offline, every thought scattering like startled birds, and all you could focus on was the point of contact where his hand met your body.

"wear it more often," he murmured, voice low and intimate, and then he let go and walked away like he hadn't just set your entire body on fire with a single touch.

that night he sent you on a solo job and didn't speak to you until you returned hours later, and by then he was back to being distant and professional like the moment in the warehouse had never happened.

it was torture, actual psychological torture, this constant back and forth that left you reeling. you didn't know which version was real anymore, the sunoo who touched you like you were precious and looked at you like you hung the stars, or the sunoo who acted like you were just another piece on his chessboard, useful but ultimately replaceable.

you were starting to think maybe they were both real, that maybe he did care about you but didn't know how to show it consistently, or maybe his feelings were just as fucked up and complicated as yours and he was struggling with them the same way you were. 

or maybe, and this was the thought that kept you up at night staring at your ceiling, maybe he just liked having power over you. liked knowing you were obsessed with him, liked watching you orbit around him desperately waiting for scraps of affection, liked the control he had over your emotions.

you didn't know which option was worse.

it was three weeks of this torture when everything fell apart.

you were supposed to be gathering intel on a hero safehouse, simple reconnaissance that should have been easy. in and out, no engagement as always (sunoo had been very clear about that part). but when you got to the location you found him already in the middle of a fight with three heroes instead of the one target you'd been expecting.

one of them was heeseung, some hotshot hero with energy manipulation who'd been climbing the ranks fast and making a name for himself taking down villains. he was good, really good, moving with a precision that spoke of serious training, and he'd brought backup that was equally competent.

sunoo was handling them fine because of course he was, nothing could hurt him after all, but they were coordinated enough to be annoying. they were keeping him busy, working together to contain him, and you could see what they were doing even from your hidden vantage point. they were stalling, buying time, waiting for more backup to arrive and overwhelm him with numbers.

you should have stayed hidden like sunoo had told you to, should have trusted that he had everything under control, that he could handle three heroes without breaking a sweat. but then you saw heeseung pull out some kind of device, something that glowed with concentrated energy that looked dangerous even from a distance, and he was pointing it at sunoo's back while sunoo was occupied with the other two heroes. 

your body moved before your brain could fully process what you were doing, before you could think about consequences or strategy or the fact that sunoo specifically told you to stay out of it.

you dropped from your hiding spot and tackled heeseung, momentum and surprise on your side, sending the device skittering across the pavement. his eyes widened in surprise before narrowing with recognition as he recovered quickly.

"the sidekick," he said, already shifting into a fighting stance. "sunoo's little pet."

"fuck you," you snarled, already moving because you'd committed now and there was no backing out, no retreat.

heeseung was faster than you'd expected, stronger too, his energy manipulation letting him create shields and weapons simultaneously in ways that made him incredibly difficult to pin down. but you were good too, sunoo had been right about that even if he never let you prove it in any way that mattered. you'd trained for this, spent hours preparing for exactly this kind of fight, and you held your own against him.

at least until one of the other heroes broke away from sunoo and joined heeseung against you. then you were outnumbered and outmatched, fighting two enhanced heroes at once, and you felt the exact moment things shifted from manageable to genuinely dangerous. you heard the crackle of energy building, felt the heat of heeseung's power gathering in the air around you, and you knew with sudden terrible certainty that you were about to take a hit you might not recover from.

your eyes found sunoo across the chaos without meaning to, some instinct making you seek him out. he was closer now, had taken down one of the other heroes and was moving in your direction, and his eyes met yours across the space between you. they were dark and unreadable and intense in a way that made your breath catch even now, even in the middle of this disaster.

then heeseung's partner appeared next to sunoo, the hero with enhanced speed that you'd forgotten about in the chaos. 

"got something you want?" he called out, gesturing at you with one hand while holding up the device you'd knocked away from heeseung with the other. "then come get it!"

sunoo's eyes moved between you and the device and you could see the calculation happening in real time, could see him weighing options and running through scenarios, could see the exact moment he made his choice.

he went for the device.

turned away from you, from the fact that you were surrounded and outmatched and about to get seriously hurt, and went for the fucking weapon instead like it mattered more than you did.

the smirk he threw over his shoulder as he moved, that tiny curve of his lips that usually meant trust me i have a plan, felt like a knife sliding between your ribs and twisting.

heeseung's energy blast caught you in the ribs before you could process what had just happened, before your brain could make sense of sunoo's choice. the pain was blinding, white-hot and all-consuming, spreading through your entire body like fire. you went down hard and your head cracked against the concrete with enough force to make your vision blur at the edges, everything going fuzzy and wrong.

you heard heeseung saying something but the words were muffled, distant, like you were underwater. you felt hands grabbing your arms and hauling you up and you tried to fight, tried to make your body respond, but everything hurt and nothing was working right.

"hey, hey—stop." that was heeseung's voice, much closer now, and he sounded concerned in a way that didn't make sense. "she's actually hurt. we need to—"

"she's a villain," his partner said from somewhere to your left. "we should call it in, get her processed—"

"she's a person," heeseung interrupted, and suddenly his hands were on your face, tilting it up gently, and his expression was genuinely worried in a way that made something crack open in your chest. a hero was worried about you. a hero was checking your injuries with careful hands and looking at you with concern while sunoo, while your partner, the person you would have died for, had just walked away like you didn't matter.

"where's your backup?" heeseung asked, and he sounded almost sorry, like he felt bad for you. "your partner. he should be here, he should be helping you—"

"he left," you said, and your voice came out broken and shattered, barely recognisable. "he left me."

heeseung's expression shifted to something like anger mixed with disbelief. "what?"

"got what he wanted." you tried to laugh but it turned into a cough that brought the taste of blood to your mouth. "the device was more important than me."

"that's—" heeseung looked genuinely furious now, more angry on your behalf than you'd seen him during the entire fight. "you jumped in to save him. i saw you. you protected him from the device and he just left you here?"

"yeah," you said, and the word felt hollow and empty, like it was coming from someone else. "he did."

the pity in heeseung's eyes was somehow worse than the physical pain, worse than the cracked ribs and the head injury and the fact that you could barely stand. this hero who was supposed to be your enemy understood that you'd just been abandoned by the person you loved, the person you would have died for, the person who apparently didn't think you were worth choosing.

"i'm sorry," heeseung said quietly, and you could tell he meant it, could hear the genuine sympathy in his voice. "that's not—you deserve better than that."

the laugh that escaped you was bitter and sharp and tasted like blood. "apparently not."

you managed to create an opening then, throwing a smoke bomb you'd been saving for emergencies and using the confusion and heeseung's momentary distraction to run. your ribs screamed with every breath and your head was pounding and your vision kept going fuzzy, but you didn't stop or look back. just ran until your legs finally gave out three blocks away in some abandoned alley.

you'd cracked at least two ribs, maybe three. there was blood in your mouth and dripping down your face from somewhere and your vision kept threatening to go dark at the edges. but you were alive. you'd saved yourself because apparently no one else was going to do it.

the worst part, the absolute worst part that made you want to curl up and sob, was that a hero had shown you more concern in five minutes than sunoo had during that entire fight. he had looked at you like you were a calculated risk he'd decided not to take.

you pulled out your phone with shaking hands that you couldn't quite control and called the one person who might help you. not sunoo though, never him again.

"yeonjun," you gasped when he picked up, barely able to get the words out. "i need a favour."

yeonjun was a former villain who'd gone straight, someone you'd worked with before you met sunoo. he didn't ask questions, didn't demand explanations, just gave you an address and told you to get there however you could manage.

you abandoned your phone in the alley after you hung up because sunoo could track it and you weren't stupid enough to think he wouldn't try to find you eventually. you took only what you could carry in your current state and disappeared into the night, every step agony but necessary.

if sunoo thought a device was more important than you, then he could have it. he could have everything—his knives and his plans and his fucking invincibility and his empty warehouse. you were done.

the safehouse yeonjun set you up in was small and dingy, but it was off the grid and that was all that mattered. he helped you patch up your ribs without asking what happened, just gave you supplies and space and resources and promised not to tell anyone where you were.

you were there for three days when the nightmares started, vivid and terrible and relentless. dreams where you watched sunoo turn away over and over, where you felt heeseung's energy blast hit you again and again, where you died alone in that alley because you weren't important enough to save.

but worse than those were the dreams where heeseung's pitying expression played on repeat, the way he'd looked at you like you were pathetic, like he felt sorry for you. a hero feeling sorry for you because even he could see that sunoo had abandoned you, that you'd been left behind.

you woke up gasping every time, ribs aching with the movement, and you'd remind yourself that you'd made the right choice. that leaving was self-preservation, that staying would have killed you eventually if not physically then emotionally, that you deserved better than someone who would leave you to die.

but it hurt. god, it hurt so much it felt like dying anyway. because despite everything, despite him choosing a weapon over you, despite the mind games and the hot-and-cold behaviour and the way he'd played with your feelings for weeks, you still loved him. you still wanted him. you still missed him with an intensity that felt like it was tearing you apart from the inside.

you were so pathetic. heeseung had been absolutely right to pity you.

but at least you'd had enough self-respect left to leave. at least you could say that. at least you'd chosen yourself when sunoo had made it clear he wouldn't.

you stayed in the safehouse and tried to figure out how to rebuild a life that didn't revolve around kim sunoo, that didn't orbit around him like he was the sun and you were just a planet caught in his gravitational pull.

it felt impossible.

sunoo stared at the empty alley where your phone lay abandoned, screen cracked and battery dying. the tracker he'd embedded in it blinked weakly before going dark and something in his chest went cold in a way he didn't recognise. you were gone. he'd come back for you, of course he'd come back for you, it had been a few minutes, the device was fake anyway, just a test from the heroes to see if he actually cared about his sidekick, and you were just. gone.

the heroes had scattered. you'd disappeared. and sunoo felt something he hadn't felt in years, not since he'd discovered his invincibility and realised nothing in the world could touch him. fear. actual bone-deep terror that made his hands shake and his breath come short because you were his and you were gone and he didn't know if someone had taken you or if you'd left on your own and he wasn't sure which option made him want to burn the world down more.

he tore through the area with increasing desperation, checking every shadow, every hiding spot, every possible place you could have gone. his knives were out and his hands wouldn't stop shaking and the fear was morphing into something darker now, something that tasted like rage and felt like madness

he found the smoke bomb residue first. then the blood, your blood, spattered on the concrete in a pattern that spoke of injury and pain. there were signs of a struggle, of you fighting your way out, of you getting hurt while he was dealing with a fake fucking device that didn't matter, because the only thing that mattered was you and he'd left you and now you were gone.

something in sunoo's chest cracked wide open and what poured out was violence.

the first building went down at dawn. sunoo walked into the heroes' main headquarters and started killing people. anyone who got in his way, anyone who might know where you were, anyone who existed in his path became a target. he was calm about it, almost detached, asking each person the same question before his knives found their throats.

"where is she? where did you take her?" 

none of them knew. they were all surprised, confused, trying to fight back against someone they couldn't hurt. it didn't matter. sunoo killed them anyway because maybe the next one would know, maybe the next one would tell him where you were, maybe the next body would bring him closer to finding you.

heeseung found him three buildings later, surrounded by corpses, covered in blood that wasn't his own because blood was never his own, nothing could make him bleed, nothing could hurt him except apparently the gaping absence of you.

"sunoo, what the fuck—" heeseung stopped in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in the destruction.

"where is she?" sunoo's voice was deadly calm. he turned to face heeseung with his knives still dripping. "my sidekick. where did you take her?"

"we didn't take anyone—" heeseung's expression shifted as he processed the scene. "holy shit, what did you do?"

"where. is. she." sunoo started walking toward him and there must have been something in his face, something terrifying, because heeseung actually backed up a step. "i won't ask again."

"i don't know! we let her go after—" heeseung stopped and his expression changed to something like understanding mixed with disgust. "after you left her."

the words hung in the air between them, sharp and accusatory. after you left her. like it was sunoo's fault. like sunoo had abandoned you instead of making a tactical choice that should have taken forty-five seconds and somehow cost him everything.

"i came back," sunoo said quietly, and his voice was empty in a way that made heeseung tense. "i came back and she was gone."

"yeah, well." heeseung's hands crackled with energy, preparing for a fight he had to know he couldn't win. "can you blame her? you chose a device over your own partner. she was hurt, sunoo. cracked ribs, possible concussion, bleeding, and you just walked away like she was nothing."

sunoo moved. he was across the room before heeseung could blink, knife pressed against the hero's throat, and his hands were shaking again but his voice was steady. "don't. don't you dare act like you know anything about what she means to me."

"i know you left her to die," heeseung spat, and there was genuine anger in his voice, genuine disgust. "i know i showed more concern for her in five minutes than you did in that entire fight. she was devastated. she actually thought—she believed you didn't care about her."

something in sunoo's chest twisted violently and the knife bit into heeseung's skin, drawing blood. "the device was a fake. a test. i knew it was a fake. i was calling your bluff, proving it was empty so you couldn't use it as leverage. i was going to come right back for her."

"but you didn't," heeseung said, and his eyes were hard. "you didn't come back in time and she ran. and honestly? she deserves better than someone who would leave her surrounded by enemies just to prove a point."

sunoo's knife sliced deeper and heeseung choked, hands coming up to try and push him away, but sunoo was invincible and furious and utterly past caring about consequences. "she's mine. she's mine and i'm going to find her and i'm going to fix this."

"you really think she's going to take you back after—" heeseung's words cut off as sunoo's blade found his throat properly this time, cutting deep, and blood poured hot over sunoo's hands.

"i'll make her understand," sunoo said to heeseung's dying face. "i'll make her see. she belongs with me. she'll forgive me because she has to, because we're meant to be together, because i'll burn this entire city down before i let her go."

he left heeseung bleeding out on the floor and continued his search, and over the next two weeks sunoo tore apart half the city looking for you. he destroyed three more hero headquarters, killed anyone who got in his way, followed every lead no matter how slim. he didn't sleep, didn't eat, could barely breathe properly because you were out there somewhere thinking he'd abandoned you. thinking he didn't want you. thinking you didn't matter when you were literally the only thing that had ever mattered in his entire life.

he finally found you through yeonjun. he had tracked down the former villain, cornered him in some shitty apartment, and the look on sunoo's face must have been terrifying because yeonjun gave up the address immediately, hands raised in surrender.

"she doesn't want to see you," yeonjun warned, but he was already backing away from whatever he saw in sunoo's expression. "she thinks you abandoned her. she's hurt and angry and she told me if you came looking to tell you to fuck off."

"i don't care," sunoo said, and his voice was hollow. empty. "i'm getting her back."

"sunoo, maybe you should give her space—"

"i've given her two weeks." sunoo was already moving toward the door, toward the address yeonjun had given him, toward you. "i'm not giving her another second."

the safehouse door didn't stand a chance against him. sunoo kicked it open hard enough that the wood splintered and there you were, on your feet immediately with wide eyes and an expression that was half shock, half something else he couldn't read. 

you were alive. real and solid and in front of him after two weeks of losing his mind, and sunoo couldn't help it, couldn't stop himself from crossing the room in three strides and pulling you into his arms.

he held you so tight it probably hurt but he couldn't make himself loosen his grip because you were here, you were okay, you were safe and alive and he'd found you. his hands shook where they fisted in your shirt and his face was buried in your hair and he couldn't breathe properly, couldn't think past the overwhelming relief that was making his chest ache.

"you're okay," he breathed against your hair, and his voice cracked on the words. "you're okay, you're here, you're safe, i found you, you're—"

you shoved him away hard enough that he actually stumbled back a step, too surprised to resist, and when he looked at your face you were crying. angry tears were streaming down your cheeks and your expression was furious and hurt and devastating.

"don't fucking touch me," you snarled, and your voice was shaking with rage. "you don't get to touch me. you don't get to just show up here after two weeks and act like everything's fine—"

"i'm sorry," sunoo said, and he could hear the desperation in his own voice. "i'm so sorry, i looked everywhere for you, i tore apart the city trying to find you—"

"sorry?" you laughed and it sounded broken, jagged around the edges. "you're sorry? you left me, sunoo. you looked right at me, you saw that i was surrounded and outmatched and about to get hurt, and you turned around and left."

"it was a test," he said desperately, taking a step toward you even as you backed away. "the device was fake, heeseung was testing to see if i cared about you more than the mission. i knew it was fake so i called the bluff. i was going to come right back for you, it was only going to take a minute—"

"but you didn't come back!" your voice cracked and more tears fell. "you didn't come back and i was hurt and bleeding and a hero showed me more concern than you did. heeseung looked at me with pity, sunoo. actual pity. because even he could see that you'd abandoned me, that you didn't give a shit about me, that i was just—just—"

your voice broke completely and sunoo felt something in his chest shatter because you believed it. you actually believed that you didn't matter to him, that you were disposable, that he could just walk away from you.

"that's not true," he said, and his voice came out rough and desperate. "that's not true, i came back, i swear i came back. a few minutes, that's all it took to dismantle the device and prove it was fake and i turned around and you were gone. i've been losing my mind for two weeks thinking someone took you, thinking you were hurt somewhere and i couldn't find you—"

"so what?" you backed further away from him and your hands were shaking. "you want credit for that? you want me to be grateful that you went on a murder spree after you abandoned me? that doesn't change what happened. that doesn't change the fact that when it mattered, when i actually needed you, you chose wrong."

"i chose strategically!" his voice rose to match yours and he was moving toward you again, unable to stop himself. "i made the smart call, the one that would get us both out safely. how was i supposed to know you'd run before i could come back for you?"

"maybe because you've spent weeks playing mind games with me!" you were yelling now and your face was flushed with anger and hurt. 

"you touch me like i matter and then ignore me for days. you tell me i'm yours and then treat me like i'm nothing. you say you'd burn the world down for me and then you literally turned your back on me when i needed you. you've given me nothing consistent except the absolute certainty that i'm not your priority, so yeah, when you walked away, i believed it. i believed that the device mattered more than me. i believed that i was expendable."

sunoo felt like he'd been stabbed, like something vital had been punctured and was bleeding out inside his chest. "you're not expendable. you're everything—"

"liar!" you grabbed something off the table, a glass, and threw it at him. he didn't dodge, didn't even try to, and it shattered against his chest and fell harmlessly to the floor. "you're a liar and i hate you and i want you to leave."

"no." sunoo shook his head and took another step forward. "no, i'm not leaving. not again. never again."

"i don't want you here!" you grabbed something else, a plate this time, and threw it harder. it hit his shoulder and shattered. "i don't want to see you, i don't want to hear your excuses, i don't want—"

you were grabbing things faster now, throwing anything you could reach, and sunoo just stood there and took it. took the mug that hit his chest, the book that caught his jaw, the vase that shattered against his ribs. he didn't dodge or defend himself, just let you express your rage in the only way you could because he deserved it. he deserved all of it and more.

your hand found a knife on the counter and you threw it with actual intent to harm, put real force behind it, and it hit him square in the shoulder and stuck there.

and he bled.

you froze immediately, eyes going wide as blood started soaking through his shirt, as the knife stayed embedded in his shoulder, as actual visible injury appeared on his body for the first time in the two years you'd known him.

"what—" your voice came out shaky and confused. "how did i—you're invincible, you can't—nothing can hurt you—"

sunoo looked down at the knife in his shoulder and the smile that spread across his face was delighted, absolutely manic, his eyes bright with something unhinged and adoring. he pulled the knife out slowly, watching blood drip from the blade, and then he was crossing the room in two strides and grabbing your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"no," he said, and his voice was soft and reverent and slightly crazed. "i'm not invincible, sweetheart. i'm immune to harm from everyone and everything in the world. except one person."

his hand came up to cup your face and his thumb stroked across your cheekbone, smearing a bit of his own blood on your skin, and his smile was soft now, tender in a way that made your breath catch.

"my true soulmate," he murmured, and his eyes were so dark, so intense as they stared into yours. "the other half of my soul. my perfect match. the only person in the entire world who can actually hurt me." his other hand tightened on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. "you. it's you. it's always been you."

your brain couldn't process this, couldn't make sense of what he was saying. "that's not—no. that's not possible. you've been fighting for years, you've never been hurt, you're completely invincible—"

"to everyone else," he interrupted, and his voice was patient like he was explaining something simple. "to everyone else i'm untouchable. but to my soulmate? to the person i'm meant to be with? i'm completely vulnerable. and i've known since the day i met you. i've known you were my mate since that jewelry store because you bumped into me while running and i felt it. this little spark of sensation that i'd never felt before. you could have hurt me then and you can hurt me now and you're the only one."

"stop," you whispered, but you didn't pull away from him, couldn't make yourself move out of his arms even though you were still so angry. "stop saying things like that."

"it's the truth." his forehead pressed against yours and his eyes slid closed like he was savouring this, savouring your proximity. "i'm obsessed with you. i've been obsessed with you for two years. i think about you constantly. the way you bite your lip when you're nervous, the way you try so hard to hide how you feel about me, the way you look at me like i hung the stars even when i know i don't deserve it. i kept you away from fights because i knew if you got seriously hurt i'd lose my mind. i pushed you away emotionally because i was terrified of what it meant that you could hurt me, that i had this weakness after years of being untouchable."

"you have a really fucked up way of showing you care about someone," you managed, but your voice was weak and your hands had somehow ended up fisted in his bloody shirt.

"i know." his eyes opened and the vulnerability in them made your chest ache. "i know i fucked up. i should have told you from the start. should have explained what you are to me instead of playing games and keeping you at a distance. but i was scared. i've never been vulnerable before. never had someone who could actually hurt me. and then you showed up and suddenly i had this thing in my chest that ached when you weren't around and i didn't know how to handle it."

"so you decided to give me whiplash instead?" you couldn't keep the bitterness out of your voice. "hot and cold, back and forth, never letting me know where i stood?"

"i was trying to protect myself," he admitted quietly. "if i kept you at a distance emotionally then maybe it wouldn't hurt so much that you could hurt me physically. if i didn't let myself care too much then maybe i'd survive it when you eventually figured out you could do better than me and left. but it didn't work. i just made you think i didn't want you when you're all i've ever wanted."

"you left me," you said again, and your voice cracked on the words because that was the core of it, the thing you couldn't get past. "you looked at me and you turned away and you left me there."

"i made a mistake." his hands were shaking where they held you and his voice was wrecked. 

"the worst mistake of my life. i thought—i was so sure i'd be right back, so certain i could handle it quickly and come back for you. i didn't think about how it would look from your perspective. didn't consider how it would feel to watch me walk away. i just saw the tactical solution and took it because that's what i always do, but i should have—" his voice broke. "i should have chosen you. fuck the strategy, fuck the heroes, fuck the optics. i should have gone to you first. always you first."

you wanted to stay angry, wanted to hold onto the hurt and use it as armour against the hope trying to bloom in your chest. "this doesn't fix everything."

"i know," he said immediately.

"i'm still furious with you."

"i know."

"you're going to have to work for this. no more games. no more pushing me away. no more making me guess how you feel."

"anything." his voice was fervent, desperate. "anything you want. i'll be so honest it's uncomfortable. i'll tell you every single thought i have about you. i'll stop protecting myself and just—i'll give you everything. i'll prove that you matter more than anything else in my life."

you opened your mouth to respond, to say something about how words were easy and actions were what counted, but he kissed you before you could get the words out. it was rough and desperate and consuming, his hands fisting in your hair and pulling you closer, angling your head exactly how he wanted it. you made a sound, half protest and half something else entirely, and he swallowed it, deepened the kiss, licked into your mouth like he was trying to devour you whole.

you bit his lip hard. hard enough to break skin and taste blood, and he moaned into your mouth like it was the best thing he'd ever felt.

"still mad at me?" he murmured against your lips when you finally broke apart to breathe, and you could feel his smile even though your eyes were still closed.

"furious," you gasped, but your hands were tangled in his shirt and pulling him closer instead of pushing him away, completely betraying your words.

"good." he walked you backward until your back hit the wall and his body pressed fully against yours. "stay mad. yell at me. hurt me. i don't care as long as you're here. as long as i can touch you. anything is better than the last two weeks thinking i'd lost you forever."

"you're insane," you managed, but it came out breathy and weak because his mouth was on your neck now, teeth scraping against your pulse point in a way that made your knees weak.

"for you, yes." his hand slid under your shirt and his fingers splayed across your ribs, right over the bruises that were still fading from heeseung's attack. "i've been going insane for two weeks. tore apart half the city. killed anyone who got in my way. couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't think about anything except finding you and getting you back and making you understand that you're mine."

your breath caught as his fingers traced over the bruises with devastating gentleness, like he was memorising the exact shape of them. "he hurt you," sunoo said, and his voice had gone cold and dangerous. "heeseung hurt you."

"you killed him already, remember?"

"not slowly enough." his fingers pressed just slightly harder against the bruised ribs and you hissed at the spike of pain. "i should have made it last days. should have made him suffer for every mark he left on your skin. should have made him understand what it means to hurt something that belongs to me."

"sunoo—" you didn't know if you were protesting or encouraging him, didn't know what you wanted except more.

"i'm going to make this up to you," he promised, and when he pulled back to look at you his eyes were dark with intent, pupils blown wide. "i'm going to make you feel so good you forget about the last two weeks. i'm going to touch you until the only thing you can think about is me. i'm going to prove that you're mine and i'm yours and nothing else matters."

"that's not how apologies work," you tried to say, but it came out shaky because his hand was sliding higher under your shirt and his thumb was brushing against the underside of your breast and you couldn't think.

"then tell me to stop." he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes properly, and despite the heat in his gaze there was genuine question there too. "tell me you don't want this and i'll stop. i'll leave. i'll give you space. i'll do whatever you need, even if it kills me."

you looked at him and saw the desperation in his expression, the way his hands trembled slightly where they touched you, the blood still soaking through his shirt from where you'd stabbed him. you thought about the last two weeks of nightmares and pain and missing him so much it physically hurt. thought about how even after everything, even after he'd left you and broken your heart, you still loved him. still wanted him. still felt like a piece of you was missing when he wasn't around.

"i don't want you to stop," you whispered, and your voice came out broken and honest. "i hate you and i want you and i'm so tired of fighting it."

something in his expression shifted, softened and sharpened at the same time, and then he was kissing you again. properly this time, slow and deep and thorough, like he had all the time in the world to learn the taste of you. you kissed back with everything you had, two years of want and frustration and love pouring out.

your hands tugged at his blood-stained shirt until he had to break the kiss to pull it off, and then you could see the wound on his shoulder properly. it was still bleeding sluggishly, the skin around it red and irritated, and you pressed your fingers against it without thinking.

he made a sound low in his throat and his eyes fluttered closed. "does it hurt?" you asked, fascinated despite yourself.

"yes," he breathed, and when his eyes opened again they were glazed with something that looked almost like pleasure. "do it again."

so you pressed harder and watched his face as he reacted. watched his breath catch and his pupils dilate and his hands tighten on your waist hard enough to bruise. there was something intoxicating about it, something that made heat pool low in your stomach. having this kind of power over someone who was otherwise completely invincible. being the only person who could hurt him, the only one who mattered enough to break through his immunity.

"you want to hurt me?" he asked, and his voice dropped to something dangerous and inviting, something that made heat pool low in your stomach. "go ahead, sweetheart. take one of my knives and make me bleed. i know you want to."

your breath caught because he was right. you did want to. wanted to see him bleed for you, wanted proof that you had this power over him, that you could affect him the way he'd been affecting you for two years. wanted to make him feel even a fraction of the pain you'd been carrying around.

"you're still angry," he continued, reading you like he always did, like you were his favourite book and he'd memorised every page. "still hurt. so take it out on me. i can handle it. i want you to."

he pulled a knife from his pocket, one of his favourites, the one with the black handle that he always kept razor sharp, and pressed it into your palm. his fingers closed around yours, warm and steady, holding your hand around the weapon. "go on."

you looked at the blade, then at him, at the absolute certainty in his expression. the trust. he was giving you the power to hurt him, offering himself up to the only person in the world who could actually damage him, and telling you to use it. encouraging it even.

your hand was shaking as you brought the knife up to his chest, pressing the tip against his skin just above his heart hard enough to dimple the flesh. "you really want this?"

"i want everything with you." his hand covered yours on the handle, applying gentle pressure until the blade bit into his skin and blood welled up around it, bright red against pale skin. "even the pain. especially the pain, because it means you're touching me. means you're here and real and mine."

you dragged the knife across his chest, not deep but enough to hurt, enough to part skin and draw a thin line of blood, and watched his eyes flutter closed like he was savouring it. watched his lips part on a sharp intake of breath that might have been pleasure. 

"fuck," he breathed, and when his eyes opened again they were glazed with something that looked almost euphoric. "again."

something dark and possessive unfurled in your chest at his reaction, something that liked having this power over him. you made another cut, parallel to the first, and he groaned low in his throat, a sound that went straight between your legs. his hands tightened on your waist hard enough to bruise and you were mesmerised by the blood running down his chest in thin rivulets, by the proof that you could do this to him.

"you like this," you said, and it wasn't quite a question because you could see it in his face, in the way his breathing had gone ragged.

"i love it," he admitted without shame, without hesitation. "love that you're the one doing it. love that you have this power over me. love that i can bleed for you when i can't bleed for anyone else."

you pressed the knife harder against his chest, dragging it down toward his ribs in a longer line this time, watching blood well up in the blade's wake like you were painting him. his stomach muscles tensed under your touch and his breathing was getting heavier, more erratic, more desperate.

"fuck," he hissed when you pressed the tip of the blade just above his hip bone, twisting it slightly to make it hurt more. his hand shot out to grab your wrist, not to stop you, just to steady himself, fingers digging in hard enough that you'd have marks later. "you have no idea what you're doing to me."

"i think i have some idea." you could see it in the way his pupils were blown wide, black almost completely swallowing the brown. could see it in the way he was already getting hard, the bulge in his jeans obvious and growing. "you're getting off on this. on me hurting you."

"of course i am." his free hand fisted in your hair, pulling you closer until your faces were inches apart and you could feel his breath on your lips. "you're the only person in the world who can make me feel pain. do you understand how fucking intoxicating that is?"

you dragged the knife across his collarbone, following the line of bone, and he groaned again. the sound was rough and desperate and so clearly pleasure that it made your own breathing pick up. blood was everywhere now, painting his chest in abstract patterns, dripping down his stomach to soak into the waistband of his jeans. he looked absolutely ruined and it was all because of you.

"that's enough playing around," he said suddenly, and his hand wrapped around your throat, not squeezing but possessive. his other hand plucked the knife from your grip easily. "my turn now."

he tossed the knife aside and before you could protest, before you could even process the loss of the weapon, he was on you. his mouth crashed against yours and the kiss was immediately desperate and consuming, his tongue sliding against yours while his hand tightened slightly on your throat. you could taste something metallic and realised with a start that it was his blood from where you'd apparently cut his lip at some point.

"been so patient with you," he muttered against your lips, walking you backward until your back hit the wall hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. "letting you have your little tantrum. letting you cut me up like i'm your personal canvas. but i think that's enough attitude for one night, don't you?"

"i'm still mad at you," you said, even as your hands fisted in his bloody shirt, pulling him closer instead of pushing away like you should.

"oh, i know." his smile was sharp and mean as he pulled back just enough to look at you properly. "and i'm going to fuck that right out of you."

"you think it's going to be that easy?" you challenged, lifting your chin defiantly even though your heart was racing and you could feel how wet you already were.

"easy? no." his hand left your throat to work at your top, yanking it over your head roughly enough that you heard fabric tear. "but it'll be fun watching you try to stay bratty when you're falling apart on my cock."

"big talk from someone who—" your words cut off in a gasp as he shoved his hand down your pants without warning, fingers immediately finding how wet you were.

"from someone who what?" he asked, voice dripping with condescension as his fingers slid through your folds, spreading the evidence of your arousal. "go on, finish that sentence. oh wait, you can't, can you? not when you're this fucking wet for me already."

"fuck you," you managed, but it came out breathless and weak.

"you will be soon." he pulled his hand out and brought his fingers to his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he sucked them clean with obvious enjoyment. "mm. tastes like you're not as mad as you're pretending to be."

"i am mad—"

"then why are you dripping down your thighs, sweetheart?" he popped the button on your jeans and shoved them down along with your underwear in one rough movement. "why are you trembling? why can't you stop looking at me like you want me to ruin you?"

you opened your mouth to snap back with something cutting but he chose that exact moment to push two fingers inside you and the words dissolved into a moan that echoed embarrassingly in the small space. "

there we go," he said, and he sounded so pleased with himself it should have been annoying. "that's much better than all that talking back."

his fingers worked you with devastating efficiency, like he'd studied your body and knew exactly what you needed. they curled to hit that spot inside you that made your knees weak while his thumb circled your clit with perfect pressure. you were already embarrassingly close, wound tight from weeks of missing him and the adrenaline of the knifeplay and having him this close after thinking you'd never see him again.

"look at you," he murmured, his free hand coming up to grip your jaw firmly, forcing you to meet his eyes. "getting so close already. want to come on my fingers, baby?"

"yes," you gasped, past the point of playing hard to get or pretending you didn't want this desperately.

"ask me nicely."

"what?"

his fingers slowed to an agonising pace that had you wanting to cry from frustration. "i said ask me nicely. where are your manners?"

"please," you gritted out, hating how desperate you sounded but needing the release too badly to care about pride.

"please what?"

"please let me come."

"hmm." his fingers stopped moving entirely and you actually whimpered, a pathetic needy sound. "i don't know if you deserve it yet. you've been pretty bratty. throwing things at me, stabbing me, running away for two weeks and making me think you were dead..."

"sunoo, please—"

"tell me you're sorry," he demanded, and his eyes were dark and intense and utterly serious. "tell me you're sorry for leaving and i'll let you come."

your pride warred with need and need won decisively. "i'm sorry," you gasped out. "i'm sorry for leaving, please, i need—"

"good girl." his fingers resumed their movement immediately, faster now, harder, and you were right back on that edge within seconds. "see how easy things are when you behave?"

you came with a cry that was probably too loud, clenching around his fingers rhythmically, and he worked you through it with a satisfied smile on his face. but before you could catch your breath, before you could even start to come down, he was pulling his fingers out and spinning you around, pressing your front against the wall.

"now here's what's going to happen," he said against your ear, his body a solid line of heat against your back. "i'm going to fuck you against this wall until you forget why you were mad at me. and you're going to take it and thank me for it. understand?"

"you're so full of yourself—" you started, but cut off with a gasp as you felt him line himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

"and you're about to be full of me," he said, and thrust in with one brutal movement that punched the air from your lungs.

you cried out at the stretch, at the way he filled you so completely you could barely breathe. he was big, bigger than you'd expected, and the angle had him hitting so deep it bordered on too much, on the edge of pain.

"fuck, you're tight," he groaned against your neck, and his voice was wrecked in a way that sent another wave of heat through you. "squeezing my cock like you don't want to let me go. thought you were mad at me?"

"i am," you managed, but it came out weak and breathless and completely unconvincing.

"sure you are." he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, setting a punishing pace that had you seeing stars. "that's why you're taking my cock so well. that's why you're already getting wet again. because you're so mad at me."

"shut up," you gasped, but you were already pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts, chasing the pleasure.

"make me." his hand came up to wrap around your throat from behind, not squeezing but possessive, claiming, owning. "oh wait, you can't. you're too busy moaning for me."

he was right and you hated it. every thrust hit perfectly, the angle letting him go so deep you could feel him everywhere, feel him splitting you open. your legs were shaking, barely holding you up, and if it wasn't for his grip on your hip and throat you would have collapsed.

"this is what you needed, isn't it?" he panted against your ear, and each word was punctuated by a thrust. "needed me to fuck some sense into you. needed to be reminded who you belong to."

"i don't belong to anyone," you tried to argue, but it came out more like a moan than actual words.

"liar." his hand slid from your hip to between your legs, fingers finding your clit and circling it with maddening pressure. "you're mine. have been since that jewelry store. you just needed a reminder."

"sunoo," you gasped, feeling yourself getting close again impossibly fast, your body responding to him like it was made for this.

"that's right. say my name. let everyone know who's fucking you this good." his pace got harder, more erratic, and his fingers worked your clit in tight circles. "come on my cock, sweetheart. show me who you belong to."

your second orgasm hit even harder than the first, your whole body seizing up as pleasure crashed over you in waves. you heard yourself crying out his name, felt yourself clenching around him rhythmically, and it was so intense you actually saw stars, your vision whiting out at the edges.

"fuck, that's it," sunoo groaned, and his rhythm was faltering now, getting sloppy. "feel so good when you come. so perfect. gonna fill you up. gonna make sure you remember this."

he thrust into you one final time, grinding deep, and you felt him pulse inside you, filling you with heat. for a long moment neither of you moved, both gasping for air, bodies slick with sweat and blood and completely wrung out.

then he was pulling out carefully, gently, and turning you around. he caught you when your legs threatened to give out, his arms coming around you to hold you steady. his expression had shifted, the mean dominant edge smoothed away into something softer, more vulnerable.

"can you walk?" he asked, and there was genuine concern in his voice now.

"maybe," you managed, still trying to catch your breath and make your brain work again.

"good enough." he scooped you up easily like you weighed nothing, carrying you toward the bed. "we're not done yet."

"sunoo, i can't—" you started, genuinely not sure your body could handle more.

"yes you can," he said simply, and there was that commanding tone again that made your stomach flip. 

"you're insane," you said, but you didn't push him away when he laid you down on the mattress and settled between your legs.

"we've established that." he looked up at you through his lashes, and even covered in blood and sweat he was beautiful. "now be a good girl and let me taste you."

before you could respond, his mouth was on you and his tongue was licking through your folds, tasting the mixture of both of you. you nearly came off the bed from the sensitivity, it was almost too much.

"too much," you gasped, hands flying to his hair, trying to push him away.

he just grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your sides, not even pausing in his ministrations. "i don't remember asking," he said against you, the vibration of his words making you whimper. 

"sunoo—"

"what did i say about talking back?" he looked up at you and his eyes were dark and stern. "every time you argue, i'm adding another orgasm. want to keep going?"

you shut your mouth immediately, and he smiled. "that's what i thought. now stay still."

he went back to work with renewed focus, his tongue circling your clit while keeping your wrists pinned to the bed. you were so sensitive that every touch felt electric, overwhelming, bordering on painful but in a way that still felt good.

"that's better," he murmured between licks, his breath hot against your oversensitized flesh. "no more attitude. just taking what i give you like a good girl."

despite the oversensitivity, despite thinking it was impossible, you felt it building again. he was making it happen with that devastating tongue, working you with the kind of precision that came from paying attention, from caring.

"sunoo, i'm—" you gasped, your hips trying to move but he held you down effortlessly.

"i know." his tongue moved faster and you could feel him smiling against you. "give it to me. one more, baby. you can do it."

when you came this time it was almost painful, the pleasure so intense it felt like electricity shooting through your entire nervous system. you were vaguely aware of crying, of making sounds that didn't sound human, but you couldn't stop it, couldn't control your body's response.

sunoo worked you through it gently this time, his tongue softening as you came down, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs while you shook and gasped and tried to remember how to breathe. when he finally pulled back, you were completely wrecked, trembling and boneless and utterly spent.

"look at you," he said softly, crawling up your body to gather you into his arms. "so pretty when you let go."

you couldn't even form words, just buried your face in his chest and breathed in the scent of him. blood and sweat and something uniquely sunoo that made your chest ache with how much you'd missed it.

"come on," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "let's get you cleaned up."

he carried you to the bathroom and this time you didn't protest, too exhausted and wrung out to do anything but let him take care of you. he started the shower and helped you under the spray, his hands impossibly gentle now as he washed you with careful attention.

"did i hurt you?" he asked quietly, his fingers tracing over the marks he'd left on your body. the bruises blooming on your hips and wrists, the fingerprints on your throat. "too rough?"

"no," you said honestly, leaning into his touch. "just... intense."

"good intense or bad intense?"

"good," you admitted, feeling heat rise to your cheeks despite everything you'd just done. "really good."

he smiled softly at that, genuine and so beautiful it made your chest tight. "good. i never want to actually hurt you. even when i'm being mean."

"you were pretty mean," you said, but there was no heat in it, just fond observation.

"you liked it," he countered, and when you didn't argue, his smile widened into something more smug. "knew you would. knew underneath all that attitude you just needed someone to put you in your place."

"don't get cocky."

"too late." but then his expression softened again as he washed your hair with careful fingers, working through the tangles with patience. "but i'll try to be humble. for you."

"you're bleeding," you pointed out, looking at the cuts on his chest that were still seeping blood sluggishly into the water running down the drain.

"i know." he sounded almost pleased about it, like the wounds were a gift. "they'll scar. i'll have marks from you forever. i like that idea."

when you were both clean, when the water had finally run clear and all the blood was washed away, he dried you off with a towel and found one of your shirts. he helped you into it despite your weak protest that you could dress yourself, then carried you back to bed and settled you against his chest with your head tucked under his chin.

"i love you," he said quietly into the darkness, his hand stroking through your damp hair in soothing motions. "i know i'm fucked up about showing it. i know i hurt you. but i love you more than anything. you're my everything."

"i love you too," you whispered. "even when you're an asshole."

"especially when i'm an asshole," he corrected with a soft laugh. "that's when you get the most worked up."

"shut up."

"see? bratty even now." but his tone was fond, affectionate, full of something warm. "get some sleep, sweetheart. i'll be here when you wake up."

"promise?"

"i promise," he said seriously, and you could hear the weight of it in his voice. "i'm never leaving you again. never making you doubt how important you are to me. you're stuck with me now. for better or worse."

"mostly worse," you mumbled, already drifting off, exhaustion pulling you under.

you fell asleep wrapped in his arms, feeling safer and more content than you had in weeks, and for the first time since everything fell apart you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

note 2: the whole soulmate thing was inspired by this!

if you liked this please comment or reblog to give me your feedback! <3

"If the p-value is less than alpha, we reject the null hypothesis," Jay explained, leaning in closer to see the open pdf on your iPad, he smelt fucking amazing and you were resisting the urge to sniff him.

"Yes, reject it," you squeaked as you pointed at the screen but just when you were about to scroll, a notification banner dropped down with a sharp ping.

bestie westie: bitch! are u riding that presidential dick yet?? 💦 u know he's famous for that tongue first policy. stop being a fuckin nerd and let him bend u over ur desk and show u why they call him the president of orgasms!!! 👅

You could’ve sworn your stomach dropped to your ass and your finger paralyzed on the glass, staring at the incredibly graphic text that was now glowing between you and the most powerful student on campus. You lunged for the device but Jay was faster, he didn't even snatch it, he simply put a firm hand over yours, holding your finger in place so he could read every single vulgar word.

"J—Jay, I—I am so so sorry. She's...she's had way too much caffeine, she's insane, I'm going to kill her, I swear—"

"Quite the imagination your friend has," he laughed mostly to himself. He leaned back against your bed frame, watching you squirm with a smirk that made your heart hammer against your ribs. "But she brings up an interesting point. You've been sitting here for an hour, stumbling over your definitions and barely able to look me in the eye."

He brought face inches from yours and didn’t even hide the way his gaze dropped to your mouth. "You can't even handle me tutoring you through a basic statistics chapter, baby doll. So tell me...how would you handle it if I actually gave you that tongue first policy? If I took you right here on this desk and made you forget every single number in that textbook?"

Before you could move or think of more ways to apologize, his hand left the desk and found the hem of your skirt. His fingers were warm as they began their way up your thigh, the friction of his skin against yours was electric.

"You're shaking," his other hand came up to cup your jaw and his thumb dragged across your bottom lip. His fingers moved higher up your skirt, ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh with a precision that told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

"I'm going to keep going," he said with an unshaken heat in his eyes. "Unless you tell me to stop. Right now. Are you going to be a good girl and let me go ahead?"

Every logical part of your brain, the part that valued your reputation and your strict rule against meaningless flings was screaming at you to pull away. You'd always told yourself you wanted something slow and meaningful.

But Jay wasn't looking at you like a student or a peer. He was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, like the world outside your door didn’t even exist, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity with a man who felt like a force of nature and that’s exactly why you gave him a little nod.

Jay's movements were so efficient, he gripped your hips and hauled you toward him until your back hit the softness of your rug and his body was wedged between your thighs, forcing them wide. The friction caused your skirt to flip up until your panties were fully exposed to the harsh dorm lighting.

He reached down, hooking one of your legs and draping it casually over his broad shoulder to pin you open. His fingers began an agonizingly torturous walk up your leg, tracing the line of your calf with his touch light as a feather, till he reached the hem of your fuzzy socks. He paused there and a small, genuine smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. "Fuzzy socks," he commented. "God, you're cute. It's almost a crime what I'm about to do to you."

His thumb flattened against the crotch of your panties, the warmth of his hand seeping through the thin fabric. Then, with the expertise of someone who had clearly earned those rumors, he found your clit and began a steady rub.

The sensation was so sharp, so immediate that your back arched off the floor almost instantly. A loud whine of a moan escaped your throat and your hands flew up to grip his shoulders as your entire body buckled under his touch. You weren't just turned on by him, you were completely overwhelmed.

Jay froze at the way you were trembling, realizing it wasn’t just with pleasure but also with an unpracticed demeanor he hadn't expected. He pulled his hand back just an inch and snapped his eyes to yours, to search your face.

"Shit," he breathed while he watched you try to catch your breath just from a little rubbing. "Wait...are you a virgin?"

You gave a small quick nod, unable to find your voice as the weight of the moment settled over you.

"Aw," he cooed, the word vibrating against your skin as he leaned closer. "I fucking love virgins."

"Are you absolutely sure, baby doll? I won’t want to stop once I start."

You couldn't form a coherent sentence, the friction of your thigh against his shoulder and the heat of his gaze was making your head spin but you managed a breathless "Yes," that was barely more than a squeak.

Jay's smirk quickly returned, sharper than before. "Good girl," he rasped. He reached down and hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, peeling them away to expose you to the cool air of the room and his appreciative gaze.

"You’re really something, aren’t you?"

He didn't give you time to overthink it. He moved his head between your legs and let his hands grip your thighs to hold you steady. When his tongue made first contact with your wet folds, it wasn't just a tentative lick, like you expected, it was a broad, wet, and authoritative stroke that made your entire body jump.

He was clearly using that tongue first policy your friend had joked about with terrifying confidence. He lapped at you with a steady pressure, swirling and slurping his tongue around your sensitive clit before dragging all the way down to your gushing hole and prodding at it with the tip of his tongue. Is this what it’s like to get eaten out?

This was so overwhelming, it was so much more than anything you'd imagined, so much better than anything you’d ever managed to give yourself, so much so that you found yourself keening, moaning and whining so loud that it echoed off the dorm walls. You tangled your fingers in his hair, helplessly trying to pull him closer and push him away all at once but Jay just groaned against your skin, drinking in every sound of your undoing.

Your fingers had never been able to mimic the wet heat of his tongue or the way he seemed to know exactly when to flick and when to use a dragging motion that made your toes curl inside your fuzzy socks.

You went from soft, embarrassed whines to full moans, your hips bucking off the floor when you started to chase his mouth. You were desperate for the friction and your legs tightened around his shoulders cause you were trying to ground yourself against the fervor of what he was doing to you.

"J—mmm! Jay," you sobbed, your head thrashing against the rug.

The sound of his name seemed to ignite something in him, when you opened your eyes to look down at him you realized he as well was losing his composure. He wasn't just focused on you anymore—he now was reacting.

He was letting out small moans that vibrated against your sensitive pussy, his breath was coming in hot puffs that felt like fire. He was drinking all of you in, his tongue becoming more erratic, more starved. As he worked, you felt his body shifting below you, his larger frame was pressed against the floor and you could see his hips twitching cause he had started to hump your fluffy dorm carpet in short, involuntary movements, the friction of the floor was providing the only relief for the ache clearly building in his own pants.

Hearing and feeling him moan into you sent you over the edge, the fact that the most powerful guy on campus was losing his mind over you, was the ultimate aphrodisiac.

"Please," you gasped, fingers digging into his scalp and pulling him even harder against you. "Jay, oh please—don't stop...please! Ah!"

He responded with a deep hum, circling his tongue in a way that made your vision nearly white out. The final push of pleasure was nearly too much for your virgin cunt to bear. As Jay's tongue continued its excited assault, he reached one hand up with his long fingers finding your nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt and gave it a sharp tweak. You didn’t stand a chance against his wet tongue in your pussy and the sudden pinch above. You let out a high, wavering scream as your entire body stiffened cause you were shattering into an orgasm so violent you're left shaking.

As the aftershocks rolled through you, you instinctively tried to close your legs around his head, feeling your face burn with a mix of post orgasmic bliss and sudden shyness. But Jay didn’t budge, he kept your legs pinned wide, his eyes satisfied as he watched your chest heave. He leaned back on his knees on the rug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Look at you," he drawled. "You're almost adorable like this."

The word adorable felt sharp, condescending even, coming from the man who was just moaning into your thighs. You tried to ignore the sting cause your head still felt foggy with need, need that made you reach out, fingers fumbling for the waistband of his grey sweats, desperate to return the favor. But Jay caught your wrists with ease and didn’t pull you closer like you expected. "That's enough for today, doll," he says, voice suddenly shifting back into that crisp, professional tone. He stood up, adjusting his clothes with an efficiency that made your stomach drop. "I have a meeting in twenty minutes. I'm free again on Thursday if you still need help with the next chapter."

You sat there, exposed and trembling on the floor, watching in stunned silence as he starts packing his things into his bag. He had just given you the best experience of your life and now he was talking about Thursday? You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, you felt like a quick thrill he just checked off his to do list before a meeting.

"Wait," you whispered, your voice cracking as hot tears sting your eyes. "Why are you...why are you leaving like this?"

Jay stopped, his hand frozen on his laptop, looking at you and seeing the way your lip was trembling. The coldness in his eyes melted instantly, a look of genuine realization immediately replacing it, making him drop his bag and cup your face with both his hands.

"God, y/n," he breathes. "No, no—come on, please don't cry. I'm an idiot. I just...I didn't want to be the guy who took your virginity on your dorm room floor during a tutoring session."

"You deserve better than that, no? I want to take you out. I want to do this properly. Well..." he paused, a flash of hunger crossing his face. "Maybe I will eventually fuck you on the floor but at least let me take you on a date first."

He didn’t wait for an answer, catching your lips in a kiss, a slow, grounding claim, and as his tongue slid against yours, you could taste yourself, the salt and sweetness of your own pussy, still lingering on his mouth. It's the most intimate thing you've ever felt. He pulled back just an inch, his eyes hooded and intense. "I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow. Wear something cute for me?"