Mia's POV:
Mia picked up her phone, the screen’s glare harsh in the dark. She opened his official Kakao account, the one she meticulously curated. The notifications were a waterfall. Hundreds of new followers. Dozens of messages. She scrolled, her thumb a numb metronome of taps.
Her eyes scanned the comments under the post-match interview clip she’d uploaded.
“Jae-il Oppa is the future! ㅠㅠ So handsome!”
“That final goal was insane! Marry me, Jae-il! LOL”
“Can’t believe he’s only 15… he’s built different.”
Then she saw it. A comment from @sunny.eonni, the same girl who’d been spamming his DMs. That bitch! Again!
“You were incredible today, Oppa! You made my heart stop. Let me know when you’re free to celebrate properly 😉”
A hot, sour wave of anger washed over Mia. Without a second thought, her finger hovered over the comment, then pressed down. Delete. Gone. A small, ugly flicker of satisfaction ignited in her chest, a sour victory that tasted like ash.
She knew she shouldn’t. She was his social media manager, not his moral gatekeeper.
It was her job to build his brand, to engage with his fans, not to play bodyguard to his DMs. But she couldn’t help it. The thought of these girls, these women, looking at him the way they did—like he was a prize, a commodity—made her skin crawl.
Perhaps she should relinquish the social media job to Su Ah. The youngest knew her way around the internet, anyway.
With a frustrated sigh, Mia tossed her phone onto her nightstand, plunging the room into a thick, oppressive silence. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, the blue-white light of her phone screen a muted glow in her periphery.
Mia tossed the sheets aside, it was too damn hot. A thin sheen of sweat clung to her forehead and the nape of her neck, making the air feel thicker, harder to breathe in. She couldn’t sleep.
Then again, it'd always been like this lately, especially the last month.
Ever since Jae-il’s success became apparent. Because the more the world noticed him, the more unreachable he became. And the more unreachable he was, the worse the feeling got. Like craving a fruit that hung just a little too high—one you weren't supposed to want in the first place.
Her eyes were still wide open. Wide, awake. Restless.
All she could see was the ceiling. That was all. There was nothing to look at, and she was so damn bored and restless... so she did what she had to do to ease her mind: her hands moved on their own.
To find that place between her legs. Her fingertips traced the edges of her heat. Warmth bloomed across her face.
Mia was aching. Aching with a desire she didn’t fully comprehend, an itch that was relentless and maddening.
She sucked in a sharp breath, the sound magnified by the hush. Her hips jerked towards the touch as she bit down on the corner of her pillow.
Slowly, her index finger circled her entrance, spreading her wetness, the slick sensation echoing in her ears.
"Unnngh."
Her body jerked as her finger breached her warmth. It was a tight fit, she could tell. But the feeling—ah, the damn feeling...
It made her shudder, her back arched from the soft mattress, her eyes rolling back as her toes curled from pleasure. Her breath quickened as her finger moved. In and out. She could hear everything, from every inch of her slick walls and every twitch of muscle, to the wet squelching of her insides, to every heavy pant that escaped her lips.
“J-Jae-il—” His name left her mouth, unbidden, before she bit down on her pillow again, almost as if punishing herself for whispering the devil's name.
Her heart throbbed and ached in a way that left her breathless. A knot twisted and untwisted deep within her gut, sending pulses of heat that left her gasping. She knew she'd feel guilt and shame once she was done—once the euphoria wore off, but right now… right now... she just didn't fucking care.
Mia's eyes squeezed shut, and she let her imagination take flight. She imagined Jae-il over her, his larger, muscular body pressing against hers.
His hands were where hers were now, touching her with a gentleness and roughness in equal measure. "Mia Noona..." The voice in her mind called. A velvety baritone that dripped into her ears like honey. "You're so tight... so, so naughty..."
Purple eyes. A devilish smile.
A moan threatened to spill out from her throat. She tightened the pillow, sinking her teeth even harder to suppress the groans. She tried to mute her gasps and cries, her body writhing and arching as her thoughts consumed her.
He was there. With her. His hands were all over her.
Everywhere, anywhere, inside and outside.
"Ah... ahhh... mm...!"
Her thighs began to tremble. Her back arched again. The bed shook slightly, creaking in rhythm with her motions. The room felt suffocating, as though it was trying to squeeze every sound from her lungs. "Yes..." She whispered.
'Please. Touch me more.' The knot within her stomach began to tighten, constricting her muscles until her breathing came in shallow, labored pants.
"Uuugngh, uugh...!"
She was so close. So close to bliss. Just another touch. Another stroke.
The fire licked across her nerves. Mia's head was light. Dizzy. Hot.
She imagined his eyes. Those mesmerizing, beautiful amethyst eyes watching her, taking in her naked and sweating form.
Then she heard it, a soft whisper that sounded so loud within the deafening silence.
"You're mine. Always and forever. Always, my lovely Noona."
Mia's mind shattered. A loud, shaky scream built in her throat, and it was all she could manage to bury her face into her pillow to muffle the cries. Her whole body convulsed, the knot in her core exploding as pleasure ripped through her.
It was all she could manage to stay quiet, to not wake up the rest of her sleeping family, even as she bit harder into her pillow, her body spasming, contracting, releasing. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.
The moon shone through her window, bathing the room in an otherworldly light as her orgasm crested and subsided. The only sound in the room was Mia's heavy, labored breath.
When she finally came back to herself, when her breathing had settled and the tingling aftershocks had died away, reality began to sink in.
Ah, but she was a little used to it now. It wasn't the first time she had imagined this. And she knew it wouldn't be the last.
She slowly eased herself into a sitting position. "Fuck..." Mia whispered. It was all she managed to mutter.
With her feet on the ground and her face buried in her hands, a different sensation began to seep through the remnants of her self-pleasure: a bone-deep sense of longing, a void so palpable she could feel its ache. 'Why am I like this?' She questioned the dark. 'What the fuck is wrong with me?'
'I'm sick.'
She wiped her hand on a damp tissue, crumpling it with disgust.
'I'm fucked. I'm a total pervert.'
What if Jae-il knew? She'd... she’d die.
Her mind ran wild, imagining how horrified he'd be, how disgusted. No, how disgusted her entire family would be. But for him...
It was like... no, no, it couldn't be anyone else.
She only ever wanted him to touch her.
Only him.
The thought was comforting and horrifying all the same.
...
Once she cleaned herself up and changed her panties, she crept out of her bedroom. A desperate thirst clawed at her throat. Water. She needed water. She descended the stairs, each step a muffled echo, and tiptoed towards the kitchen.
She filled a glass and drank deeply, the cold liquid soothing the rawness of her voice. But even as the discomfort ebbed, her heart kept its furious pace, an endless reminder of her transgression.
Mia put the glass down, leaning heavily against the countertop, eyes screwed shut, willing her heartbeat to slow down. She managed it, somehow. Good. 'It's fine. As long as I don't do anything, I can... I can...'
"You okay?"
She froze.
Oh, damn.
Like a rusty machine, she turned around. Of course it had to be him! Jae-il. Did he know of her inner conflict and decided to torment her for it?
He was there, standing in the doorway of the living room; he had been outside, a towel clinging to his shoulders. Shit. Had she been so out of it that she didn't even hear him?
His hair was damp and messy, a sign of his late-night dip in the backyard pool. Their father recently bought it to encourage Jae-il to relax after practice. She hadn't even considered he'd use it this late at night!
"You okay?" Jae-il repeated, a frown crinkling his forehead.
She could see the lines on his brow.
"Yeah." Mia croaked out, quickly trying to clear her throat. "I'm fine. Couldn't sleep. My room's... too hot."
He stepped closer, the faint scent of chlorine mingling with the fabric conditioner, and stopped a couple of feet from her.
Her eyes traced his form. He was shirtless, the waistband of his briefs peeking over.
Mia forced her eyes away from his abs to stare at the clock behind him, her mind conjuring the image of those strong, capable fingers caressing her—
She shook herself inwardly. 'No, stop!' She told herself.
Mia turned away from him to grab a second glass of water, the cold from the refrigerator washing over her as she reached in. The icy chill of the water helped ground her.
He settled himself beside her, sighing. "Yeah, it's been warmer lately. The pool helped."
"That's great." She answered, her voice a thin veneer of calm. She handed him a glass.
His fingers grazed hers.
She quickly pulled back. "How... how's practice?" She asked quickly. Desperately changing the subject to distract her traitorous mind from wandering places she couldn’t allow it to go. 'Focus on the conversation.'
"It's been intense, as always." Jae-il took the water gratefully, draining half the glass in a single pull.
"I can tell." Mia remarked, her gaze lingering on the muscles flexing in his throat. "But you seem happy doing it."
He finished off his drink and nodded slowly. "I am." The answer was short and sincere, and a small smile tugged at his lips as he turned away, placing his glass on the countertop next to her empty one. "It's what I've always wanted, so of course I enjoy doing it."
"Hmmm..." Mia hummed, absent-mindedly.
Spacing out helped, a little.
"Anyway... how's my Kakao page going?" He asked.
Her cheeks burned. Her hands fumbled.
"Oh! It's... great. You have, uh, so many more fans now." She responded. “Like a celebrity. Your last video went viral and people have been leaving so many... umm... nice comments about how talented you are." She hid one of her eyes behind a curtain of butter-yellow hair.
"Really? That's good. I don't really care about social media presence and all of that stuff, but I'm glad you're taking good care of my page." He smiled gently. The moonlight caught the curve of his mouth, casting a soft glow. "Thank you, Noona."
"Ah! Of course!" Mia responded, the compliment feeling heavier than it should have, her heart skipping a beat. “Of course! I told ya I’d be doing a good job, didn’t I?” She grinned widely.
Jae-il nodded. A moment passed before he leaned back.
"Hmm, say, since tomorrow is our day off, why don't you join me in the pool? You look sweaty, red, and kind out of it." He offered, the words rolling from his lips without thought.
The offer itself was innocent enough. Yet Mia couldn't help but feel as though something heavy had dropped in her stomach.
'No. Absolutely not.'
"Sure, why not."
She blinked.
Fuck.