pairing: virgin!lee heeseung x experienced fem!reader
synopsis: you and heeseung are the school’s golden pair — popular, admired, and constantly shipped. the only problem? you can’t stand him. from competing on exams to gym class, you’re always neck and neck, and no one gets under your skin like he does. but while you see a rival, he sees the love of his life. when you overhear a hushed conversation that breaks you, will heeseung be able to win you back?
featuring: all of enha, winter from aespa, yuqi from (g)i-dle, and keeho from p1h
genre: angst... slow burn, some fluff, kissing, skinship, SMUTTTT, college au, first love trope?? sorta? one sided enemies to lovers
warnings: smut so mdni (18+), alcohol consumption, vandalizing property, Sexual Tension, everyone is around the same age (21-23), lowercase intended <3
playlist: you broke me first by tate mcrae & what was i made for — billie eilish
(smut warnings under cut!)
wc: 13.271k
a/n: first fic is here! plsplspls leave feedback as anything helps!! was listening to you broke me first and got inspo for a kinda angsty fic pls bare with me :3 anyways! enjoy the read <3<3
smut content: mention of toys (but no use), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex (not for you), dry humping, switch! hee and reader, riding, mating press, too much kissing, masturbation (m.), breeding kink, slight dacryphilia, oral (m. & f.), deepthroating, belly bulge, creampie, size kinkish, big dick! hee, not much aftercare but it's like fluffy, y/n has a “reputation” that she gets around, VIRGIN HEESEUNG (but no one knows…) i think thats it? lmk if i missed anything ◡̈
not proofread!
lee. fucking. heeseung. you hate him. you can't stand him. he always knows what to say just to piss you off. you might be wondering, "why don't you just try to avoid him?" the issue is... you do. you try with ALL your power but to no avail, he's in the same friend group as you.
your friends, knowing you hate him, decided to combine friend groups to see if you and him could mend things. spoiler alert: it failed miserably.
you felt safe in your small circle with keeho (the man you deemed to be your biological older brother — you aren't related), yuqi (your junior high best friend), and winter (your literal wife).
you guys were well known around the entire city of seoul for being the "it group" — always partying, hooking up, and somehow still acing every class (while nursing massive hangovers).
however, heeseung's friend group consisted of the golden boys in decelis university: park jongseong (known as jay, he hates his given name), sim jaeyun (known as the australian transfer student, jake), park sunghoon (the insanely hot figure skater), kim sunoo (the bubbliest person you've ever met), yang jungwon (the boy with feline features, however you've made a special note to never piss him off cause he has a black belt), and nishimura riki (known as ni-ki because he wanted to be different).
you loved riki. he was like your younger brother — chaotic, blunt, and always three steps ahead of everyone. you’d even joked once that if you had to suffer heeseung’s presence, at least you got riki out of it.
unfortunately, riki had the worst habit of instigating chaos.
“truth or dare?” he asked one friday night, grinning like he already had your life planned out. everyone was crammed into jay’s ridiculously large basement, music low, snacks half eaten, and bodies sprawled on beanbags and plush carpet.
you should’ve said “truth.” you knew you should’ve. but you weren’t a coward.
“dare,” you answered, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
the group erupted in ooooh's in perfect synchronicity.
riki’s grin only widened. “i dare you to sit on heeseung’s lap for five minutes.”
you almost lunged across the room.
“riki,” you hissed, “you are so dead.”
he just wiggled his brows suggestively. “i’m a baby. you wouldn’t hurt me.”
the worst part? he was right.
you looked over at heeseung, who was watching you like a cat watching a cornered mouse — lazy smirk, fingers casually drumming against his knee. “scared, sweetheart?”
“i’ll kill you in your sleep,” you said sweetly as you stalked over and dropped yourself into his lap like he was made of cardboard and air.
he oofed, not because you were heavy, but because he wasn’t expecting you to actually do it.
“wow,” he murmured, lips near your ear. “you smell like citrus and bad decisions.”
you resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs.
five minutes. you just had to survive five minutes.
but then his hands casually settled on your waist, and you felt it — the spark. the electric, traitorous, goddamn spark that told you this was a very, very bad idea.
because maybe, just maybe, your hatred wasn’t as pure as you thought- no. what are you thinking??? you immediately shook the feeling that was buzzing inside you and blamed it on the alcohol swimming in your blood.
you definitely. hated heeseung. yup, yeah, you really did.
heeseung on the other hand? he was just praying to every god he could think of that you couldn't feel how sweaty his palms were getting.
because he was panicking. full blown, internal screaming, oh-no-she’s-sitting-on-me-and-she’s-warm kind of panicking. he hadn't expected you to actually follow through on your usual threats, much less practically straddle him in front of your mutual friends.
but now? now he was just trying to not pass out from the sheer force of your perfume and presence and the weight of years of unresolved tension that sat heavier than you ever could.
"you're sweating," you said flatly, side eyeing him with that expression that usually meant murder or mockery — or both. "you good?"
"totally," he croaked. "i always nearly die when beautiful people threaten me. it's, like, my thing."
you blinked once. twice.
"did you just call me beautiful?"
"i said what i said," he muttered, then immediately regretted everything.
your brows lifted in slow, dangerous amusement. "you feeling okay, heeseung? you hitting on me while i’m threatening you?”
“wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, almost too quiet for you to hear.
and there it was again. the spark. like a lighter flicked too close to your frayed nerves.
you looked away, choosing to focus on literally anything else, but his grip on your waist tightened just slightly, grounding you, almost daring you to acknowledge it.
“how much longer do i have to sit on this assholes lap?” you questioned under your breath, reminding yourself, reminding him, that this was temporary.
"4 minutes!" jake sang back as his accented voice rang in your ears. fuck, it's only been one minute? you thought to yourself... until he spoke.
“i could ruin us in three,” he whispered, warm breath tickling your ear. he was so close you could practically feel his labored breathing against your back. you craned your neck to the side so you could look him in the eyes, "what did you just say???" heeseung was at a loss for words — his brain only drawing blanks.
did he say what he thought he said in his head out loud? impossible. he's hidden it so well, no one in your guys' shared friend group had even suspected his overbearing attraction towards you.
so heeseung did the only thing he could think of. he gulped.
just as your gaze dropped to his adams apple, sunghoon cleared his throat, reducing the fiery tension between you two to reduce to a simmer. "time's up" he stated. and just like that, the warmth you once shared was gone.
as the game progressed, the most interesting things to occur were jake kissing sunghoon on the cheek, riki vandalizing an old alley way that never saw the sun, and winter lady-and-the-tramping a twizzler with keeho.
you and heeseung never dared to even spare a glance in each other's direction for the rest of the night.
───
you laid awake, staring at the ceiling in jay's basement while trying to get comfy on the leather couch that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. you couldn't sleep. and the reason? none other than your self-proclaimed arch nemesis: lee heeseung.
your friend groups slept on different floors to prevent you and heeseung arguing and waking up the entire house. you slowly got up, attempting and (barely) succeeding to not step on a sleeping figure sprawled on the floor.
as you walk up the stairs from the basement, you hear two people whisper shouting at each other.
you glance at the time displayed on your phone.
a measly 3:16 am stared brightly at you. who's awake at this hour?? as you step closer to the hushed voices, you think you can make out the unmistakeable deepness of riki's voice and heeseung's annoying(ly hot) whispers, tinged with sleep.
"why the fuck would you dare HER of all people to sit on MY lap????" heeseung shouts quietly, clearly frustrated. riki bursts into a fit of giggles. "dude, don't tell me you feel something for her, don't you guys like hate each other?" he says between snide little chuckles.
heeseung freezes. there's no way riki really caught on to what he was supposed to never let slip through the cracks... right?! so he musters up all the dignity he has left and defensively grunts a series of defenses "nowhywouldieverseeherlikethatsheisn'tmytypeandithinkshe'sgross"
riki blankly stares back at heeseung's panicking eyes, "okayyy," he drags the word out, "you don't need to put her down like that, she's like my older sister, dude" riki spits back.
your lips twitch in a small smile, just for a second. just long enough for riki to catch your eyes peeking behind the corner. he nods once, subtle and solid. always in your corner.
but the comfort dies as soon as heeseung opens his mouth.
"i could never love someone like her."
and the world stops.
he says it so casually. almost like it’s a joke. like it's just another throwaway comment tossed between drinks and half-meant insults. but it lands with the weight of something cruelly true — or at least, something you believe he means.
you feel the breath hitch in your throat. just once.
riki's gaze is drawn to your frozen frame. and that's when everything freezes. heeseung whips around to see you standing there. eyes blown and glossy.
riki shifts, but he doesn’t move to try and console you — he knows better. knows this is something that'll bruise. something you need time to process, alone.
you bite back tears. “right,” you say, quietly. “of course.”
heeseung’s expression flickers — confusion, regret, something else — but you’ve already masked the pain. emotion draining from your face like you’ve trained for it. like it’s a sport. like if you stop moving, the hurt will catch up.
“i didn’t mean it like that,” he says, a little too late, a little too soft.
you readjust your posture, fixing your shirt.
“you meant it exactly like that,” you reply, and it’s not even bitter. it’s worse. numb.
riki’s there before heeseung can say anything else. standing between you like a wall. like a shield.
“walk away,” he tells you gently, and you do.
because if you stay, you might ask him why not. and you’re not sure your heart could take the answer.
riki turns back to heeseung, flames he's never seen before burning in the younger boys irises that are normally filled with mischief and teasing glints. but all of a sudden none of that is there anymore. it's pure, unfiltered anger. raw emotion.
heeseung wants him to yell at him. say something, anything. but nothing comes. riki just walks upstairs like he doesn't even know who heeseung is anymore.
and maybe he doesn't.
───
the next morning, when heeseung wakes up, it's almost peaceful. until rain begins to tip tap on the roof and everything comes crashing down. his chest is tight and immediately swells with regret. so much he thinks it'll spill out of him just like the rain outside.
he needs to talk to you. make sure you're okay. but he knows he's the last person you want to see right now. still, he has to try
as he descends down the stairs, he doesn't smell the usual feast jay would prepare them: eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice and cereal for jake since he claims, "it doesn't hurt his tummy," (his words).
he actually doesn't see jake. nor sunghoon, sunoo, jungwon, jay, winter, yuqi, or keeho.
after last nights events, he expected not to see riki as he was probably with you.
how did he go from having the girl of his dreams sitting on his lap, to making her hate him even more?
it's simple, really: he fucked up.
he moves through the house like a ghost — rooms too quiet, air too still. no laughter, no music playing off someone’s phone. just him and the rain.
the basement still has the blanket you’d curled up with last night. your mug — half full. he picks it up, and it’s cold. like him.
he tries to call riki. no answer.
he tries to call you.
it goes straight to voicemail.
he types out a text. deletes it. tries again.
“i didn’t mean what i said. i didn’t mean to hurt you. i'm sorry, y/n”
he stares at it. sends it.
and immediately regrets it. because what if you never answer?
as he packs up all his belongings, ready for the uncomfortable drive home, someone enters the house.
heeseung's heart rate picks up. what if it's you? he bolts down the stairs and is ultimately disappointed when he's met with a very disapproving jay.
they stand across from one another, staring into each others eyes.
heeseung's the first to break. he collapses on the bar stool at the counter and drops his head into his hands like it weighs a ton.
jay just sighs and sits down next to his friend.
"is she okay?" heeseung mumbles, his face buried in his hands.
jay’s jaw tightens. "why do you care?" he snaps. "you sure as hell didn’t last night when you said you could never love someone like her."
the words hit hard — harder than jay intended — and heeseung shatters.
the sobs break out of him like a dam giving way, loud and raw. tears stream down his face, and the sound of it makes jay flinch, caught off guard by how real the pain is. how broken heeseung suddenly looks.
still, jay moves without thinking, reaching out and rubbing slow circles on his friend’s back. it doesn’t fix anything, but it softens the edges of the moment.
they sit there in silence, the storm outside echoing the one inside, as heeseung cries himself hoarse.
by the time he’s able to breathe steadily again, nearly an hour has passed. his eyes are red, his voice barely there. he lifts his head and meets jay’s gaze; tired looking into just as tired.
neither of them says much. there’s no need.
finally, jay sighs and stands. “go grab your stuff,” he says quietly. “you’re in no shape to drive. i’ll take you home.”
heeseung doesn’t argue.
because for once, he knows jay’s right.
───
your phone dings.
dni: i didn't mean what i said. i didn't mean to hurt you. i'm sorry, y/n
you stare at your phone. gaze void of emotion. you've cried out everything you could muster.
you don't even know why heeseung's words echo in your head.
were you really that intolerable to be around? surely you weren't. all of heeseung's friends enjoyed hanging out with you and same with your little group.
so why did hearing your supposed enemy say he could never love someone like you hurt so bad?
you suppose you need to distract yourself from thinking that heeseung's words have any sort of impact on you. and that's when your door swings open. riki, yuqi, winter, keeho, sunghoon, jake, sunoo, and jungwon walk into your apartment with food, video games, board games, coloring books, skincare — everything you needed at the moment.
a break.
a break from your spiraling thoughts and endless questions you didn't want answered.
there's a knock at the door, jay comes in after he dropped heeseung off, with a freshly made cake, red velvet. your favorite.
you don’t move at first.
the warmth of your friends floods the apartment — laughter, chatter, the familiar rustle of takeout bags and the buzz of game controllers syncing. but it feels distant, like you’re underwater, watching from behind a thick pane of glass.
yuqi wraps her arms around you from behind, cheek resting on your shoulder. “we got your favorite pork buns,” she says softly.
you nod. you don’t trust your voice.
riki’s the one who notices your phone still clutched in your hand. screen glowing. that message. his message.
he doesn’t say anything, but he takes the phone from you gently, pressing the lock button, letting the screen fade to black. and you’re grateful. because if you kept staring at it, you might’ve started crying again, and you didn’t think you had anything left in you.
“movie?” sunghoon offers, holding up a stack of dvd's none of you ever returned to the library.
“coloring?” sunoo chirps, already spreading out gel pens across your coffee table.
“face masks?” winter insists, already tearing them open.
you let them distract you. you let them love you in the only way they know how — loudly, messily, unconditionally.
there’s a moment, in the middle of the chaos, when keeho makes a stupid joke and jungwon snorts soda out of his nose, that you laugh. actually laugh.
and then it hits you like whiplash — how easily heeseung could’ve been here. how almost close you came to letting yourself believe there was something soft behind his smirks and eye rolls. how you’d dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, the tension between you wasn’t just one-sided delusion.
but then he said it. “i could never love someone like her.”
and even with the people you love surrounding you, something in your chest hurts. like a bruise that won’t stop blooming.
later, after everyone’s settled into pillows and half-finished coloring pages, riki sits beside you. he doesn’t speak for a long time.
then, quietly, “you don’t have to pretend around me.”
and that’s when your lip trembles. just slightly.
“i don’t know why it hurts this much,” you whisper. “i knew he hated me. i knew. so why do i feel so broken?"
“he didn’t have to say it like that,” riki replies, voice firm. “he didn’t have to break something just because he couldn’t admit he wanted to hold it.”
you nod, finally letting a single tear trail down your cheek. riki wipes it away before it can fall too far.
he squeezes your hand.
“he messed up,” he says. “that’s on him. not you.”
you hold onto that — his words, their presence, the comfort of being chosen and cared for.
and for the first time since last night, you breathe. not easily. not painlessly. but it’s a start.
───
heeseung didn't know how hard it would be to try and get any information about you.
how you were doing, if you were okay. anything
your mutual friends? after hearing how massive he fucked up, they sided with you.
sure, jay, jake, sunghoon, sunoo, and jungwon would text him and hang out with him occasionally, but they wouldn't utter a word about you. most of the time heeseung saw them, it would be for awkward movie nights or when they would game together when none of them could sleep.
when he was alone, his mind ached, his chest twisted in pain, but mostly... his body ached.
he tried to stop it, he knew it was wrong.
but when you sat on his lap, something in him shifted.
sure he knew you were pretty (breathtakingly stunning), but he never imagined something he thought about constantly would ever become reality.
he thought back to those 5 minutes. the tension. surely it couldn't have just been made up in his head, right?
the way your entire body tensed when his hands rested on your hips. normally he wouldn't have touched you, but you were shifting and he needed to stop his growing problem before you noticed.
and thankfully it worked.
however, he was already hard as a brick.
his breath hitched as he remembered the look in your eyes — uncertain, but not scared. curious, maybe? or was he projecting again?
he swallowed hard, his hands now clenched at his sides like if he let them loose, they’d betray him again.
five minutes. that’s all it was. but it looped in his head like a damn broken record.
you hadn’t said a word. but your thighs had tensed. and when he shifted, trying to regain his composure, you hadn't moved away — not immediately, anyway.
maybe it meant nothing. maybe you hadn’t even noticed the way his breath had gone shallow or the way he was holding back like his life depended on it.
but god, his body remembered.
he shifted in his bed now, alone, frustrated, angry at himself. this wasn’t who he was supposed to be. he wasn’t supposed to want this — to want you — not like this. not in silence, not in secrecy, not in pain.
but the damage was already done.
and the worst part?
he wasn’t sure he even wanted to stop anymore.
as he stared at his chase atlantic posters, he thought to himself. any guy would get hard when a pretty girl sits on his lap, right? surely it isn't just because he's a pathetic virgin who's had to lie to his entire friend group about how he "gets around."
soon enough, his thoughts were interrupted by the rapidly increasing ache between his legs.
his hands trembled slightly as they hovered over the tent in his shorts. his breathing was shallow, lips parted, eyes half-lidded as if he were caught in some fever dream he didn’t want to wake up from.
he hated how much he needed this.
how much he needed you.
with a low, strangled groan, he finally gave in, palming himself over the thin fabric. the relief was immediate, but it wasn’t enough — it never was. not when the ache ran deeper than just skin. not when every nerve in his body was screaming for more.
he slipped his hand beneath his waistband, hissing through clenched teeth as his fingers wrapped around his thick length, already twitching with need. he was so hard it hurt, painfully stiff and dripping at the tip, slicking his palm almost instantly.
your name burned on his tongue, but he swallowed it back.
he couldn’t say it. shouldn’t say it.
but in his head, it echoed over and over again. your laugh. your voice. the way you looked at him — or didn’t. the way you moved. god, he remembered everything. he was haunted by it.
he shut his eyes tight and let his hand move — slow at first, starting at his base and dragging his fingers up each vein decorating the sides. his patience wore out quicker than he'd ever admit, starting to move up his length, then down with just enough pressure to make his thighs twitch. he bit his lip, hard, trying to hold in the sounds. but as the memory of you shifting in his lap played behind his eyelids like a cruel fantasy, a soft whimper escaped.
he was losing it.
desperation clawed at him with every stroke, every flex of his hand. his hips lifted off the mattress as his muscles tensed. he imagined your fingers replacing his, your body hovering over his, your breath against his neck.
“please,” he gasped into the dark — not even sure what he was begging for. forgiveness? permission? you?
he pumped harder now, faster, chasing that high like it would save him. his other hand gripped the sheets, knuckles white. he was right on the edge, falling apart with nothing but the echo of your presence and the throb of need coiled deep in his belly.
“i need — fuck, i need you,” he moaned, broken and breathless. his body was hot, slick with sweat, twitching under his own touch.
he could feel it. the band threatening to snap at any moment.
he swirled his fingers around his tip, hitting that spot that made his vision go white. he was close.
all it took to unravel him was an image of you, mouth replacing his hand. trying to fit as much of him into your mouth while he just laid there and took it.
eventually the thought was too much, his seed spilled over his stomach in thick, messy ropes, his fist slowing only when the aftershocks wracked his frame like a wave of guilt and pleasure colliding all at once.
he laid there for a moment, chest heaving, skin flushed and sticky.
and then it hit him.
he still wasn’t satisfied.
because it wasn’t your touch. it wasn’t your voice, your kiss, your heat. it was just his hand and a fantasy he couldn't let go of.
and no matter how many times he did this, no matter how many times he used the memory of you…
it was never going to be enough.
───
you’ve held it together for as long as you could — smiled through movie nights, laughed at keeho’s stupid impressions, even ate something other than ramen yesterday. but it’s all surface level. the moment you're alone again, the cracks split wide open.
there you are, sitting on your couch, drowning in your thoughts.
the faint glow of the streetlamp filters through the windows, further highlighting the text message staring back at you
“i didn’t mean it.”
it replays in your head over and over like a broken record until your vision starts to blur. tears flood your waterline but you make no effort to stop them.
you don’t sob. you just sit there, hurting so quietly it’s almost peaceful.
until it isn’t.
your lip trembles slightly, then it all comes pouring out.
“why? why did you say that? what the fuck. did i do to deserve those words?”
riki hears your quiet words from the bathroom. he comes rushing out, empathy and sadness twirling in his eyes.
“hey, hey, hey, talk to me y/n. yell at me if you need to, yeah?” he says. voice barely above a whisper. all you can choke out is a tiny “no, none of this is your fault.”
riki sits next to you, holding you, trying to piece you back together as if he were the one who broke you.
disrupting the mellow silence lingering in your apartment, there’s a knock at the door.
not wanting the worst case scenario, you answering the door to heeseung, riki gets up and makes his way to where the sound came from.
to both of your dismay, a tired heeseung stands in the doorway.
his hair is messy, dark bags under his usually teasing eyes, looking like he hasn’t slept in days.
he freezes when he sees you. your puffy eyes, shaking hands, the way you curl in on yourself like you’re trying to disappear.
riki steps in front of you, but you give him the signal to back down. you and heeseung can handle this alone. what’s another argument anyways?
as riki walks away, heeseung starts slowly “yn…”
you look at him. and no matter how hard you could have tried, nothing could have stopped you from snapping at him.
“why are you here?” “i had to see you. i had to say–” “you already said enough, heeseung.”
god. the way you say his name. all he’s thought about since you last saw each other was you saying his name. and now, he doesn’t wanna hear it ever again.
he opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.
“do you know what it felt like to hear you say i wasn’t lovable? that someone like me could never be enough for you?”
as if you could read his mind, you shake your head, dismissing whatever he was about to spit out.
with every last ounce of energy you can gather, you scream. “you don’t get to feel sorry now. you made your choice the other night. i knew we had a mutual hatred, or at least some twisted distaste, but i never even thought about saying something like that to you.”
he doesn’t respond right away. just stands there, frozen. then you hear it. soft sniffles. ragged breathing. sobs.
he breaks.
because this is the first time he gets it. really, truly understands what he did. what he said. what it cost you.
“i’m sorry,” he chokes out, voice cracked and barely audible. “truly. what i said last week… i didn’t mean it. even thinking it broke me.”
you stare at him for a long, quiet second. and then you say it — flat, but shaking.
“you broke me first, heeseung.”
his breath catches. your words land like a punch to the gut, because they’re the truth. maybe the first truth spoken between you in a long time.
heeseung, who’s always so calm. so composed. the one who rolls his eyes at everything and makes everything feel like a joke. he’s crumbling in front of you now. not fighting. not defending. just falling apart.
and then it hits you. maybe he’s always been like this.
watching you. listening. never the first to strike, only ever the one to react. maybe he was never the villain in this story.
your breath hitches. maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.
you don’t know why the realization crashes down now. maybe it’s the sound of his sobs. maybe it’s the way the silence has more weight than anything he’s ever said. but something inside you shifts.
and for the first time, you see him — not as the enemy. but as the boy who let you hate him, because he didn’t know how to ask for anything else.
you replay every argument like a tape stuck on rewind. you were always the one who started it.
the snide comments. the sideways glances. the venom you dressed up as jokes.
heeseung never really fought back. he always matched your energy, sure, but he never escalated it. never crossed a line. not until that night.
your chest tightens. you realize you don’t even remember what the first fight was about. some hallway bump? a misunderstood glance? maybe it was never about anything. maybe it was just you, projecting every piece of your brokenness onto the only person who saw through it and stayed.
god, had he always stayed?
you remember in elementary school, how he used to bring you extra snacks when you forgot lunch. how he gave you his hoodie that one time you were shivering during morning assembly, even after you’d spent the entire week roasting him in front of your friends.
you remember the way his gaze always lingered—not in a way that felt invasive, but like he was always checking. watching over you without saying a word.
and now here he is. slumped into his knees. back pressed against the wall, crying over you.
you were so busy building walls with your bitterness that you didn’t notice it was slowly breaking him.
the quiet way he tried to reach over them.
you sink to the floor across from him, not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel the weight of everything between you.
for a long moment, you don’t speak. neither does he. you just breathe in the silence together — like it’s the only language you both understand.
“i didn’t know how to stop hating you,” you whisper, voice catching. “because if i stopped… i think i would’ve started needing you.”
heeseung lifts his head. eyes red, lashes wet.
“i already did,” he says. “i never stopped.”
your heart fractures in a way that doesn’t feel sharp, just tired. heavy.
“i don’t know what to do with that,” you admit.
“you don’t have to do anything,” he murmurs. “not tonight.”
you nod. once. then you help him get up. both your legs feel numb, but you walk him towards the door. your hand rests on the handle, taking a second to look up at him. really look at him, and you’re tempted to say something.
but instead, you give him the quietest thing you can offer: a small, broken sort of smile. not quite forgiveness. not quite goodbye.
then, he steps out into the night. and just like that, the quietness of everything settling in takes over. no more lies. just the truth.
as you’re deep in thought, riki walks in with two mugs of hot chocolate — extra marshmallows, your favorite.
-ˏˋ⋆ 3 years ago ⋆ˊˎ-
it’s a chilly summer night. you and riki are sprawled out on the roof of his parents' house, the shingles warm beneath your backs from the day’s lingering sun. crickets hum below. the stars blink overhead, careless and constant.
you shift slightly, seeking warmth, and without a word, riki lifts his arm. you curl into the space beside him, head on his shoulder, fingers tucked into the sleeve of his hoodie. his arm settles around you like it belongs there.
“do you think we’ll ever feel like this again?” you murmur. “peaceful. like nothing’s wrong.”
he hums low in his chest. “you mean without chaos or boys who don’t deserve you?”
you let out a breath, half a laugh. “exactly.”
there’s a pause, the kind that feels thick with unspoken things.
riki’s voice is soft when he finally speaks. “i think… the people who make you feel heavy, like you're constantly questioning yourself, that’s not love, y/n. that’s something else.”
you turn your face slightly to look up at him. he’s gazing at the stars like he’s afraid of admitting he craves the one thing he’s always sworn to never care about.
“love should never hurt,” he says, quieter this time. “not the kind that stays.”
you don’t say anything right away. you’re too busy memorizing the way the night folds around his words. the way he’s always been a comfort for you, the one to pick you up when you’re falling.
and in that moment, you believe him. you really do.
you nod once. “then i hope… when it’s my turn, it feels like this. safe.”
riki swallows. “me too.”
-ˏˋ⋆ present time ⋆ˊˎ-
and now, back in your bedroom, the silence left in heeseung’s absence is deafening.
your gaze flicks toward the window, rain still threading down the glass like tear tracks. your mind lingers on that rooftop — the stars, the safety, the version of you who still believed in soft things.
before all the hook-ups, parties, and one-sided confessions.
you pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders and whisper. either to riki or yourself, you don’t know.
“you said love should never hurt. i think heeseung missed that memo.”
and god, how you wish you could go back to that night — before the spiral, before the ache.
before the boy who made you feel like an afterthought.
before you let yourself fall over someone you thought you didn’t care about.
riki leaves after making sure you’re alright, mumbling something about dance practice.
and again, it’s just you. in the quiet.
then, almost without thinking, you rip a blank piece of paper out of your journal.
you don’t plan it. it’s just instinct — fingers gripping your pen, waiting for permission your heart hasn’t quite given. but then you start writing.
dear heeseung,
i hated you before i knew how badly i could want you. maybe that’s where it all went wrong. because at some point, i stopped seeing you as the boy who annoyed me and started seeing you as someone i wanted to understand. as someone i wanted to look at me and see me. and for a while, i thought maybe you did. i thought maybe the way you pulled me into your lap, the way you whispered near my ear, the way your hand rested on my waist — i thought maybe it meant something. i thought i was stupid for hating you. turns out i was just stupid for hoping. you said you could never love someone like me. and god, that broke something in me i didn’t know was still whole. because even when i told myself i hated you, there was always that small, traitorous part of me that wondered: what if he doesn’t hate me back? what if it’s more? but it wasn’t. and now i can’t unhear it. you probably didn’t even mean it — not in the way it came out. maybe it was fear, or pressure, or ego. but it doesn’t matter, does it? words don’t get erased just because we didn’t mean them. they echo. and yours… yours are still echoing inside me like a song i can’t shut off. i don’t think i’m mad at you anymore. i think i’m mad at myself. for letting you get close. for not guarding the parts of me i only let out in small doses. for thinking i was different to you. i wish you hadn’t said it. but mostly, i wish it hadn’t mattered so much to me that you did. – y/n
you take out an envelope, neatly fold the paper and stuff it inside, writing a neat ‘heeseung’ on the front of it.
some truths aren’t meant to be sent. some confessions are only meant for the rain to witness.
and tonight, that’s enough.
───
the second the door shuts behind him, the silence hits like a punch to the ribs.
heeseung stands there for a second too long, staring at the wood grain of your door like it might open again. like maybe you’ll come running after him. like maybe that small, broken smile you gave him wasn’t the end.
but it doesn’t open.
and it was the end.
he starts walking. he doesn’t even remember moving his feet, just that suddenly he’s outside, and the rain greets him like an old friend. cold, sharp, unforgiving. it soaks through his hoodie in seconds, but he doesn’t flinch.
he deserves it. every drop. every chill. every echo of your voice in his head.
“not quite forgiveness. not quite goodbye.”
god, what did he do?
how did he take someone who was literally sitting in his lap, trusting him with the fragile thread of something real — and turn that into this? this mess of silence and space and words he can’t take back?
“i could never love someone like her.”
he had said it so carelessly. so cruelly. trying to deflect the attention off himself in front of your friends, like a coward. like a boy who still thinks protecting his ego is worth more than protecting a heart.
especially your heart.
he wipes his face with the back of his hand, unsure if it’s tears or rain. it’s probably both.
he thinks back to your eyes right before he left. the way you looked at him like he was someone you used to know. like whatever thread was between you had finally snapped.
and the worst part?
he couldn’t even beg you to stay.
because he knows — he knows — he doesn’t deserve it.
he walks home in silence, the city around him buzzing and breathing like it doesn’t care at all about the wreckage inside his chest. his phone buzzes a few times in his pocket, probably jay or jungwon checking if he made it back safely.
but none of it matters.
because there’s only one person he wants to hear from.
and you’ve already said everything you needed to say. in the way you didn’t ask him to stay. in the way you didn’t cry. in the way you simply closed the door.
so when heeseung finally steps into his apartment, soaked to the bone, trembling from more than just the cold, he collapses on his bed, stares at the ceiling, and whispers:
“i didn’t mean it. i swear i didn’t mean it.”
but there’s no one left to listen.
not tonight.
───
heeseung isn’t the center of your world anymore.
not in the way he used to be.
in the weeks that follow, your friends become your anchor. riki never leaves your side. winter brings over matcha lattes and blankets. sunoo paints your nails while jake tells bad jokes. you laugh again. slowly, but surely.
you start writing more letters.
some are angry. some are soft. some are nothing more than wordless scratches of ink on paper.
but one night, you write a letter that feels different.
you don’t even realize what you’re saying until it’s already down:
i wanted you. for a long time. maybe even when i said i hated you. maybe that was the only way i knew how to say it without crumbling. i masked want with rage. affection with sarcasm. love with loathing. you made it easier to run. but i wanted to stay. god, i wanted to stay.
you fold that letter gently. tuck it into your drawer. it doesn’t matter if he reads it. not now.
because healing isn’t about him.
it’s about you.
and you’re getting there.
lately, the weekends have felt lighter. your apartment has become a familiar gathering place again, only now, it’s just the people who stayed. who showed up. who chose you. heeseung hasn’t come around in weeks, and no one really talks about it. not in a cruel way, just in the quiet, understanding way that friendships shift when someone slips out of the picture.
you used to dread saturday nights, used to flinch every time the group chat lit up with plans. used to wonder if he’d show up, if you’d have to spend the night pretending not to notice the weight of his silence, the way your laughter dulled around him. but somewhere along the way, those nights started to feel easier. not because you stopped missing him — but because you started remembering how to miss him without hurting yourself in the process.
your living room is alive with warmth and laughter. the scent of popcorn and mango smoothies drifts through the air. blankets are piled high on the couch, soft pillows strewn across the floor where riki is dramatically throwing himself down after losing yet another round of mario kart to sunghoon, who’s grinning like he just won the olympics.
“cheater,” riki groans, pointing an accusing finger without lifting his head.
“just admit i’m better,” sunghoon replies smugly, stretching his legs across the coffee table like he owns the place.
in the corner, winter and yuqi are dancing barefoot to a chaotic mix of early 2000s pop and indie throwbacks — somehow still synced up to choreography you’d all made up back in sophomore year. their laughter is contagious, unfiltered and bright, and it tugs a smile onto your face before you even realize it.
keeho is halfway through teaching jungwon and sunoo a tiktok dance in the kitchen doorway, voice loud and arms flailing with exaggerated energy. they’re laughing too hard to get the moves right, collapsing into each other every time they mess up. jake, unfazed by the chaos, is blending something suspiciously green in the kitchen, wearing a headband that reads “chef vibes only.”
you’re curled up on the loveseat, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, a half-finished smoothie in your hands. and for once, you’re not scanning the room for him. you’re not wondering what he’d say or how he’d look at you or if tonight would be the night he pulled you aside and finally said something real.
you’re just… here. and it’s enough.
someone throws a pillow at your head, probably riki, based on the cackling, and you lunge to retaliate, laughing as the pillow war erupts across the living room. it’s messy, loud, ridiculous. and it’s yours. this little world you’re rebuilding, one laugh, one night, one breath at a time.
there’s still a part of you that misses him. maybe there always will be. but tonight, that part is small. quiet.
outnumbered by joy.
meanwhile, heeseung is alone in his apartment.
the place is dim. quiet. it hasn’t felt like home in a long time. he's been staring at his phone for an hour now, hoping for a text that doesn’t come.
he thinks about the group chat. the silence from everyone. he thinks about the night he ruined everything. and how, somehow, he still wants to fix it.
he knows an apology isn’t enough. not this time.
he needs to show you, all of you, that he’s not the same guy who let his fear speak louder than his heart.
he just doesn’t know how yet.
but he will. he has to.
because he doesn’t just want forgiveness.
he wants to deserve it.
───
somewhere in the chaos, one of your unsent letters goes missing.
riki finds it by accident. tucked under a cushion, edges worn. he doesn't mean to read it, but your handwriting draws him in, and before he knows it, he's holding your heartbreak in his hands.
he doesn't say a word. just slips it into his pocket and walks away.
a day later, heeseung finds the letter folded on the seat of his car.
he doesn’t recognize the paper at first. but the second he sees your handwriting, his heart drops.
his hands shake as he unfolds it. the silence around him is so loud, he can hear his pulse in his ears.
and then he reads it.
every word. every line. every raw, aching truth you never meant for him to see.
i thought maybe the way you pulled me into your lap, the way you whispered near my ear, the way your hand rested on my waist — i thought maybe it meant something. turns out i was just stupid for hoping. you said you could never love someone like me. and god, that broke something in me i didn’t know was still whole.
heeseung sits there, completely still. letter trembling in his grip.
"fuck," he whispers. "fuck."
he shows up to the next group hangout like his life depends on it.
he doesn’t talk to anyone. not really. not until you walk in.
you freeze when you see him. part of you wants to turn around and leave.
but he doesn’t let you.
he stands. crosses the room.
"can we talk?" he asks, voice low, not demanding, but pleading.
you don’t say anything.
"please. just five minutes. if you still hate me after, i’ll leave you alone. forever."
there’s a long pause.
you nod.
he takes you outside, away from the noise, into the quiet night.
"i read it," he says.
you blink. "read what?"
he reaches into his jacket and pulls out the letter. your letter.
your stomach drops.
"i wasn’t supposed to see it, i know. but... i’m glad i did."
"heeseung—"
"no. let me say this. please."
his eyes are desperate. glassy. his words shaky.
"i lied. that night. i said that because i was scared. because i felt too much, too fast, and didn’t know what to do with it. i thought if i pushed you away, i could kill whatever it was before it killed me."
he takes a step closer.
"but you weren’t just someone i hated. not really. you were someone i couldn’t stop thinking about. you were the highlight of every party, every night, every moment. i was an idiot. but i never stopped wanting you."
your throat is tight.
"you broke me," you whisper.
he nods.
"i know. and i’ll spend every second proving to you that i’m sorry. not with words — with time. with actions. with everything you’ll let me give."
there’s silence.
then you take a breath.
"you’ve got a lot to prove, lee heeseung."
he gives the smallest, hopeful smile.
"then let me start now."
and he does.
not with fireworks. not with promises he can’t keep. but with the small things. the consistent things.
the next morning, there’s a text from him. simple.
“did you sleep okay?”
you stare at it for a while before replying.
“yeah. you?”
“not really. kept thinking about you.”
you don’t answer that. but your heart stirs anyway.
a few days later, he’s waiting outside your class with a drink in his hand, the one he used to make fun of you for ordering (“that’s basically sugar and foam, y/n”), but now buys without hesitation. he doesn’t try to walk you home. doesn’t push. just hands you the drink, offers a soft “you looked tired,” and walks away before you can respond.
he lets you come to him.
at the next hangout, he doesn’t hover. doesn’t sulk. he helps jake in the kitchen, jokes with jungwon, lets the others tease him without biting back. when you walk in, his eyes find you — but he doesn’t pull you aside. just offers a quiet, careful smile. like he’s waiting. like he’s learning how to stay.
one night, you’re struggling with your laundry, balancing way too many bags and a basket of unfolded clothes, and he appears without a word, grabbing half the load from your arms. you glare at him, but you don’t tell him to stop.
he walks with you to the laundry room, helps you separate colors, folds your towels when you’re too tired to finish. “i owe you way more than this,” he says softly. you don’t look at him. “yeah,” you murmur. “you do.”
he doesn’t reply. just keeps folding.
you start to notice it more after that. the way he lingers behind after group dinners to help clean. the way he listens, really listens, when you talk, even if it’s just about the books you’re reading or the music you’ve been into lately. the way he starts learning your rhythms again, not to manipulate them, but to respect them.
one night, you find a note slipped into your bag.
“this isn’t about getting you back. it’s about being someone who deserves to stand beside you. i don’t expect anything from you. just… thanks for letting me try.”
you don’t know what to do with that. but you keep the note anyway.
and maybe the biggest moment doesn’t feel big at all. it’s late. you’re sitting on the floor of your apartment, overwhelmed with everything—assignments, memories, feelings you’ve tried to ignore—and he shows up.
he doesn’t say anything. just sits beside you. close, but not too close. his shoulder brushes yours. your hand trembles. and without looking at you, he says, “you don’t have to talk. just let me sit here.”
and you do.
because he’s not trying to fix you. he’s just showing up. and maybe that’s what love looks like now.
quiet. patient. real.
you don’t forgive him all at once.
but some nights, it’s harder to pretend you don’t want to.
like the night it rains, and you forget your umbrella. you’re standing under the campus archway, clutching your books to your chest, half-considering just running for it, when a quiet voice says, “hey.”
you turn. heeseung’s holding out his umbrella, expression unreadable, hair already wet from the walk over.
“you’ll get soaked,” you mumble, surprised. “i don’t mind,” he says. “but you hate the rain.”
you want to tell him to leave. want to remind him that knowing those things doesn’t mean he’s forgiven.
but instead, you step under the umbrella. shoulder to shoulder. hearts too close. you don’t say a word the whole walk home. but you remember how he always matched his pace to yours. he still does.
───
there’s another time. movie night.
everyone’s over again, sprawled across the living room. you end up between yuqi and jungwon on the couch, but at some point, someone moves, and when you shift, you realize you’re next to him. again.
the movie plays. people whisper and pass snacks and argue over the plot twist. but all you feel is the space between your knee and his. the ghost of warmth where your arms nearly brush.
you don’t move away. neither does he.
and at one point, you laugh at a stupid scene. without thinking, you glance at him, wanting to see if he found it funny too. he’s already looking at you. and for a second, everything stills.
you look away first. but your heart doesn't stop racing for a long, long time.
───
the third moment is softest of all.
it’s late. everyone’s left. you’re cleaning up alone, stacking plates in the kitchen.
you don’t hear him come back until he’s beside you, rolling up his sleeves.
“thought i’d help,” he says gently. you nod. don’t speak.
you’re both quiet for a while, working in sync. something about it feels… familiar. domestic. like home.
then, as you’re drying the last cup, you glance over. he’s watching you, and there’s something in his eyes. something tender. careful. full of things he hasn’t said yet.
“i miss you,” he says softly.
your breath catches.
you set the cup down.
“heeseung–”
“i’m not asking for anything,” he interrupts, voice thick. “just… i miss you. and i wanted you to know.”
you swallow hard. there’s so much you could say. but instead, you whisper, “i know.”
he nods once. and then he leaves. because he meant it — he wasn’t asking for anything. but that’s the moment you know: you don’t hate him anymore. you never did.
───
it happens a week later.
a rooftop. stars overhead. winter’s birthday, most of your friends are tipsy on alcohol, sugar and too many karaoke songs. you haven’t had a drop of alcohol, wanting to truly feel everything.
heeseung finds you leaning against the railing, eyes on the sky.
“hey,” he says. you nod and let him stand beside you.
the silence isn’t awkward anymore. it’s soft. steady.
“can i ask you something?” he says, barely audible.
you hum.
“do you still feel it?” he asks. “whatever it was… whatever we had.”
you don’t answer for a long time.
and then, quietly… “i never really stopped.”
he turns. slowly.
your eyes meet. and in them is every apology he’s ever whispered with his actions. every moment he gave you space. every time he showed up when he didn’t have to.
you reach for him first.
your hand brushes his. his fingers curl around yours like a prayer.
and then, finally, he kisses you.
soft. aching. full of every unspoken word, every almost, every could’ve been. this isn’t the kind of kiss that demands anything. it’s a promise. a beginning.
you pull back first, just enough to whisper, “i don’t wanna do this while you’re intoxicated, i don’t want you to regret it.”
he stares at you before mumbling into your lips.
“y/n, i haven’t had a drink, but it feels like i’m drunk when i kiss you.”
your heart stops and everything fades into the background. “don’t break me again.” you plead, face inches away from his.
he presses his forehead to yours.
“never again,” he breathes.
and this time, you believe him.
as he reconnects your lips, his hands tremble slightly where they find purchase on your waist. the night air is cool, but your skin is burning—flushed, alive, and aching in a way you haven’t let yourself feel in so long.
he pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes flick between yours and your lips, like he’s still not sure this is real.
“we don’t have to,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “just say the word.”
but you don’t want him to stop. not tonight. not after everything.
so you slide your fingers into the collar of his jacket, tug him closer until your lips brush his again.
“take me home, heeseung.”
and he does.
his apartment is quiet when you get inside, the chaos of the earlier party gone, the night still humming with something electric. you barely have time to kick your shoes off before his mouth finds yours again. hungrier now, more desperate. like all the restraint he’s shown is unraveling, thread by thread.
his hands are everywhere — your hips, your waist, your jaw. like he’s relearning you. memorizing the weight of you against him.
you tug his jacket off, fingers fumbling with the zipper, and he lets out a low, breathless laugh against your neck.
“still impatient,” he teases.
“still hot when you shut up,” you shoot back, and he groans.
you barely make it to the couch.
he sits first, pulling you into his lap like it’s instinct, like he’s needed this for months. your knees straddle him, bodies pressed chest to chest, your hands tangled in his hair as he kisses you like he’s starving for it.
he tilts his head, deepens the kiss, and it’s filthy. slow. wet. your hips roll against his without thinking, and the noise he makes, low and guttural, goes straight to your core.
“fuck,” he groans. forehead against your collarbone. “you’re gonna kill me.”
you arch into him, tug his shirt over his head, and he follows suit, fingers slipping under the hem of yours, eyes flicking up for permission. you nod, and he peels it off slowly, reverently, like unwrapping something precious.
his hands trail over your skin like he’s trying to remember what it feels like to deserve you.
and then his mouth is on your neck, your shoulder, trailing down until you’re gasping his name, your back arching as he presses kisses across your collarbones.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, like it hurts.
as you reach for his belt wanting to make him feel good, he puts his hand over yours. “there’s something i need to tell you.. before we take anything further.” he says like he doesn’t even want you to know.
“what is it, hee?”
god. that nickname.
it’s what all his close friends call him, however when you say it. he wants to lay the world at your feet.
“i’m.. uh– a vir-virgin…” he mumbles. you would have missed it had you not been paying close attention.
you laugh.
heeseung leans back into the couch, hoping, praying, wishing it to swallow him whole.
as you observe heeseung, you realize he must be serious. “you’re a virgin? but you– you always used to talk about your hook-ups and how every week it was like you had someone new hanging off your arm??? what do you mean you’re a virgin?”
he whimpers. he fucking whimpers. “i’m not proud of it, okay? i always came really close to hooking up with girls but i um. i couldn’t you know.. get it… up.”
you sit there quietly, giving him time to compose himself and continue.
“everytime i tried to lose my virginity, i couldn’t get hard unless i thought she was you,” he speaks, not gaining enough courage to look you in the eyes.
you stare at heeseung for a moment, trying to process what he just said. the weight of it settles between you like a delicate secret, and suddenly the playful teasing tone you’d had before feels completely inappropriate.
you can see it in his doe eyes — how embarrassed he is, how much he wants to crawl out of his own skin. the corners of his lips are tugged in a tight line, as if holding in every emotion that threatens to spill out. but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. it’s soft, gentle, but laced with a teasing warmth.
“you’re a virgin?” you ask, letting the words linger a little longer than they should, pretending to be surprised as if he hadn’t just told you, twice.
heeseung’s face reddens, and you see him shrink further into the couch. you could almost feel his desire to hide, to escape. but you don’t let him. instead, you move closer, shifting between his legs, and place your hand on his thigh. a gentle, reassuring pressure.
“god, heeseung,” you tease softly, your lips curling into a smile that isn’t cruel, but playful. “how could you keep that from me? you’ve been all… big talk and ‘i get all the girls,’ and here you are, this nervous little thing, blushing at the thought of being with me?”
his eyes flicker with uncertainty, but you lean in just enough to press your lips to his ear. you feel him tense under the touch, and the subtle shiver runs through his body, telling you everything you need to know. he’s not as confident as he makes it seem.
“you should’ve told me sooner, you know,” you whisper, your voice low, just enough to make his breath hitch. “i would’ve been patient. we could’ve taken it slow.”
heeseung groans softly, his hands gripping the fabric of the couch like he’s holding onto some semblance of control. you smile knowingly, watching the struggle on his face. but it’s not discomfort — it’s desire. you can feel it in the way his eyes refuse to leave yours, in the way his body reacts to the gentleness in your touch.
“i… i don’t want you to think less of me,” he mutters, barely audible, but you catch it anyway. “it’s just… with you, it’s always felt different.”
you gently trace your fingers up his chest, watching as his breath quickens. you’re giving him space to breathe, to process, and then you lean in, brushing your lips against his in a soft, teasing kiss.
“stop worrying about that,” you say quietly, your lips just barely touching his. “i don’t think less of you. if anything, you’re hotter right now than ever before.”
the vulnerability in his eyes shifts. he’s still nervous, but the weight is lifting. and for the first time in a while, you see him start to believe that he doesn’t need to hide anything from you.
then, you shift your focus, teasing him once more with a playful grin. “but you know, heeseung… i could help you with that. we could take this slow, maybe help you get comfortable with what it feels like to be with me. you trust me, don’t you?”
he nods, slowly, not trusting his voice. he’s ready. maybe more than he thought.
and you take that as your cue. you kiss him again, deeper this time, letting the heat between you grow. his body responds to you almost immediately. hands shifting from nervous to eager, pulling you closer as his mouth moves hungrily against yours.
“let me take care of you,” you murmur, your hands trailing down to his belt. this time, you don’t hesitate. you undo it slowly, giving him time to react, but he doesn’t stop you. instead, he leans back into the couch, chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.
heeseung’s eyes search yours one more time, a silent question in them. you nod gently, giving him permission to be vulnerable, to trust you fully.
and when your hands pull his pants down, you can feel the heat of him, see the evidence of his desire. you take your time, enjoying the way he reacts to each touch, savoring the way he trembles under your hands.
you start by rubbing over his bulge when your eyes widen.
he just stares back at you, not blinking, but incredibly nervous. “is– is something wrong?” he stutters out.
“wrong? no, heeseung. you’re huge.”
he blushes and hides his face in his hands. his veiny hands. you’ll definitely need to put those to use later.
you softly drag his hands away from his face and tell him to never hide from you. you think he’s beautiful like this.
after he calms down, you look back into his eyes that resemble a deer, and he nods. signaling you to continue.
you finally trail your eyes down to his raging hard on, you can almost see it pulse.
his breath quickens the longer you take to begin touching him.
you start by teasing his swollen tip, arousal evident in the stain on his gray boxers. he sighs heavily, tipping his head back.
as you rub your hand down to his base, you get a feel for how thick he truly is.
he’s hard. aching. even at the slightest touch, his eyebrows furrow and he holds back soft groans.
you rip your hand off his clothed bulge. “if you want me to continue, you need to let me hear you, baby.”
that was his breaking point, he quickly nods his head yes looking at you with pleading eyes, “c—can you please touch me? it hurts.”
not wanting to tease him any longer, you rip his boxers off his thighs and his throbbing length slaps against his lower abdomen reaching just above his belly button. precum smears on his abs and you get the urge to lick it off.
so you do.
you gently move his dick away from his toned stomach, swiping your wet muscle along his abs, sucking to leave light marks.
the noises he makes are downright pornographic, and you think you’ll never be able to hear them enough.
moving your attention back to the hardness in your grasp, you begin to lick up his shaft, tracing each vein with the tip of your tongue. his head is still tipped back, frustrating you a bit because you want his attention on you.
so… in one swift motion, you take him down your throat until his tip hits the back. his head shoots up and he moans. loud.
heeseung is in heaven. the feeling of your throat constricting around his cock, he never wants you to pull off of him. he gently pulls your hair into a ponytail, hands shaking when you start moving.
his apartment is filled with filthy noises: wet, loud, and obscene.
he can hear and feel your gag reflexes kicking in but you don’t budge. you continue to move up and down, not wanting to stop until he cums.
his tipping point was you somehow taking him even further down your throat, nose brushing his pelvis. he thought you were going to take a break for air but you didn't.
you stay.
swallowing around him.
the pressure in your jaw is almost unbearable but when you feel his thighs shaking, you know he’s close. and you need to ruin him.
hollowing your cheeks, you swirl your tongue around his engorged tip, hands coming up to play with his heavy balls. he can’t hold back anymore. the sensation of you taking his whole cock down your tiny throat and the stimulation of his balls in your hands. he groans.
desperate. low. deep
and spills down your throat. warm, wet, and sticky ropes, pour out of his tip. taking up all the space you had left, some spilling out from the corners of your mouth.
you swallow all that you can, then pull off from his dick.
heavy breathing is the only thing that can be heard. heeseung threw an arm over his eyes, chest heaving, trying to regain control of his senses.
meanwhile, you haven’t stopped clenching your thighs together.
you didn’t even notice you were staring until he clears his throat. he just looks so gorgeous all fucked out.
“wow. did you– swallow.. it?” he asks through pants.
you answer him like it was the most natural thing in the world, “yeah, because it was you”
he moans, again. and that’s when you notice he’s still hard, still aching.
as you move to straddle his lap, he grabs your thighs and wraps your legs around his waist. “not here, i want our first time to be special” he says softly, with a kiss to your temple.
he carries you to his bedroom on wobbly legs and gently lays you down on his bed, hovering on top of you. he plants wet kisses all over your face, trailing down to your neck, collarbones, until he reaches your covered chest.
looking at you with big, lust filled eyes, he waits for your green light. you nod and he fumbles with your bra clasp, eventually tearing the fabric away.
“you’re stunning,” he says completely awestruck by your half-naked form.
as he continues staring, he licks his lips, slowly lowering his head wrapping his soft lips around one of your perky buds.
you instinctively arch into his touch, one of his hands wrapping around your waist as his other hand gently kneads your other boob. soft gasps and whines slip from your lips as you try to grind up in search of any friction where you need it most.
he senses your desperate pleas and starts moving his body to slot between your legs, face in front of your clothed core. you wiggle your hips trying to convince him to speed up and touch you where you need it the most.
“can i…?” he practically begs, “yeah” you sigh as you relax into his plush sheets. he drags your sweats down your soft legs planting kisses along the inside of your thighs, all the way down to your calves. he makes his way to your panty clad pussy, pressing a soft kiss to your bundle of nerves aching for him.
you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before.
he looks so good between your thighs, you want this image ingrained into your brain forever.
he brings his thumb up to press on the wet spot that’s formed on your panties, groaning, “fuck, you’re so wet.”
“all for you.”
he replays those words in his head and his patience snaps. tearing your underwear in half, he wastes no time. tongue lapping and the wetness between your legs, like he’s been deprived of any liquid all his life.
you’ve never met someone this desperate to eat you out. or anyone for that matter.
he mumbles against your core, “guide me, please, wan’ you t’feel good, mmh.”
your hands take place in his silky soft roots, gently tugging on the strands.
through whimpers, you tell him to focus on your clit, and surprisingly (for a virgin), he finds it fairly quickly.
he briefly sucks on the nub, flicking it with his tongue to soothe it. “fuck, hee” you moan out into the space of his bedroom.
he groans against your pussy, carefully bringing up his fingers so he can push his tongue into your awaiting hole. the moment he starts fucking you with his tongue, you arch your back and grind into his face, needing more.
he heard his friends talking about “prep” and “stretching girls out,” so he wonders if you need to be stretched out to take him. you said he was huge, did you mean it? he has no idea, he’s a pathetic virgin who has only shoved his dick into his right hand. not even a pocket pussy or fleshlight.
to your dismay, he pulls away for a brief second asking if he should use his fingers. “please, i need you to stretch me out, i can’t– take you without prep,” you rush out feeling your high not far away.
“shit, okay baby,” he mutters back before bringing his middle finger up to spread your juices around.
your hips jerk up when he focuses on your clit, surprised by the stimulation.
slowly, he pushes his finger in, getting used to the warm sensation of your walls.
you clench around his thick digit, feeling fuller than when you finger yourself. as he pumps it in and out, you tell him to add another one and he does.
moaning in relief, you arch into his touch as his tongue finds its way back to your sensitive clit.
between him lapping like a dog and the feeling of two of his fingers pumping in and out of your tight hole, you feel a familiar band in your stomach building up.
your moans increase and heeseung feels dizzy, taking in all that you give.
he curves his fingers all while sucking on your bundle of nerves, causing you to tip over the edge and that band in your stomach to snap.
you come crashing down, chanting his name like a mantra as heeseung helps you ride out your high.
as you lift your head and meet his gaze, he looks more fucked out than you do. hooded eyes, tongue lolled out of his mouth, gaze consumed with lust. you pull him by the collar of his shirt until your lips collide in a mess of tongues and teeth.
your makeout session unfortunately doesn’t last long as heeseung starts whining into your lips.
that’s when you realize his cock found your bent knee, not so subtly grinding against it, trying to relieve some of the ache.
“feeling needy, are we?” you tease, earning a playful roll of the eyes from heeseung.
pulling back, you drink in his bare torso– he’s always been muscular as he was very popular with the ladies (until he got into bed with them).
dragging your hand up his chiseled abs, his stomach tenses and his dick twitches.
you found his second biggest weakness, besides you. his abs.
deciding to end the teasing there, since you’re also becoming increasingly impatient, you flip him over so you land on top of him with a quiet, “oof.”
as you settle your bare core on his rock solid cock, you start grinding, placing your hands on his chest for support.
he can’t hold back the guttural groans spilling from his mouth. not believing you’re really on top of him right now. this isn’t just one of his wet dreams.
he thought this couldn’t get any better, but when he struggles to get out a weak ask for a condom, you just respond with “no, i’m– on the pill. need to feel you. all of you.”
and to that, he moans, not believing his ears.
it’s his first time. and he’s about to have sex with YOU. raw. he thinks he’s dreaming. there’s no way you’re real.
you gently angle his dick towards your awaiting hole, sinking down until his fat tip is inside you.
instantly, you both sigh in relief, starting to feel the pressure ease up.
if you feel a stretch at his tip entering you, you don’t know how you’re supposed to fit all of him inside you. he’s the biggest you’ve seen and he doesn’t even know it.
your attention is drawn back to the man consuming your brain when he whines. “m-more, please.” he’s becoming needier the longer you stay at just his tip but you don’t know how to tell him you’ve never taken a size like him before.
“hee-heeseung i need a sec, you’re– fuck. so thick,” you say between moans.
his grip on your hips tightens, a silent way of telling you to take your time.
when you finally deem yourself ready, you sink lower, wanting to speed it up, bracing the stretch to come.
you feel him pulsing inside you and that’s all you need to sink all the way down, him bottoming out inside you.
it’s his first time feeling anything other than his hand wrapped around him, and he whimpers, loud. it’s overstimulating in the best way possible and before he knows it you move up to his tip and bounce back down. his dick twitches and you feel it. every vein, every pulse, every movement, even his heavy breathing.
heeseung, not in control of his movements, bucks his hips up, making another non-existent inch fit inside your stretched out core.
you moan soft and loud, eyes rolling back, as the pain turned into pleasure. bouncing faster on his girthy cock, you uncontrollably clench around him, causing heeseung’s grip to tighten. you know it’ll bruise tomorrow, but at the moment, he feels too good for you to care.
the room smells of sex, and the only sounds that can be heard are skin clapping and your shared noises.
heeseung must notice your legs becoming tired because before you know it, you’re flat on your back with heeseung on top of you, cock never slipping out from your pussy.
his large hands grab each of your thighs, pressing them to your chest.
his pace is slow at first, testing the waters, getting a feel for a rhythm.
as his hands stay pressed to your thighs, he slowly drags out and pushes all of his dick inside you.
you feel him deeper in this position, a bulge forming in your lower belly.
when he notices, his eyes stay glued there.
you wonder what he’s looking at but the moment you look down, you’re met with his hand pressing slightly on the bulge causing the loudest moan to leave your lips.
he signals you to hold your thighs as one of his hands holds himself up and the other focuses on how he can feel his dick inside your guts with every thrust.
his pace suddenly quickens when you clench hard around him, making his hips stutter briefly.
endless praises leave his pretty lips, telling you how good you feel, how hot you look laid underneath him, taking whatever he gives you.
feeling a familiar, yet new sensation building rapidly, you try to warn him that you’re close but somehow, he already knows. “i know baby, let go whenever you want.” he mutters back, feeling just as close to his high.
“fuck– where do you want it?” he rushes out, not wanting to cum inside you if that isn’t what you want.
but apparently, all the gods are smiling down on him as you release your thighs from the grip you had on them and wrap your legs around his waist. “inside,” you moan.
and at that, he cums. hard. ropes of his hot, gooey, cum spill inside you. tipping you over the edge.
with a loud groan, clear liquid comes rushing out from you, spraying all over his sheets and lower abdomen. soaking his dick.
heeseung moans. again. raw and unfiltered at the fact that you just squirted all over him (he’s seen enough porn and heard too many stories from your shared friend group to know what squirting is).
as you come down from your high, heeseung is somehow still cumming. it spills out of you, creating an even stickier mess on his bed. but he doesn’t care.
not when you’re beneath him, chest rising rapidly, trying to catch your breath.
heeseung’s cock is still lodged inside you, holding half of his cum inside you, not wanting it to go to waste.
as he collapses on top of you, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, holding your trembling body close to his.
you were the first to speak, “i didn’t even know i could do that,” talking about how you squirted all over him. “guess we both had firsts today,” he softly chuckles.
his breath is warm against your skin, his arm tightening just a little around your waist as if anchoring himself in the moment. you don’t respond right away, too caught up in the quiet thrum of your heartbeat, the lingering warmth between you, the way his fingers begin tracing gentle, absent-minded shapes against your spine.
“i didn’t expect it to be like this,” you murmur, your voice almost lost in the hush of the room.
“like what?” he asks, voice low, like he’s afraid to shatter the calm.
you shift slightly to face him, resting your head more comfortably on his chest. “soft. safe.”
Hheeseung lets out a breath that sounds like relief and something deeper, something reverent. “yeah,” he whispers. “me neither.”
for a while, neither of you say anything. he pulls the blanket higher over both of you, his other hand brushing your hair back with such tenderness that it makes your eyes sting. he presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering like he means it.
“you okay?” he asks, voice still rough from earlier, but softer now, like the edge of him has been smoothed by your touch.
you nod, then glance up at him. “are you?”
heeseung meets your gaze, and something in his expression shifts. vulnerability bleeding through the cracks he used to hide behind. “i am now.”
your heart squeezes.
he licks his lips, nervous. “i’ve been so stupid with you. all this time, i kept pushing and pulling, thinking maybe if i kept it messy, it’d be easier to walk away if i had to.” he pauses, his voice thinning. “but tonight just… made me realize i don’t want to walk away.”
your breath catches. “heeseung…”
“i don’t want this to be a one time thing,” he says, eyes searching yours. “not the sex, not the closeness. i want you. the fights, the tension, the way you drive me crazy and still somehow make me want to be better just by being around you. i’m so in love with you, it hurts.”
your lips part in surprise, and he laughs quietly, self-deprecating and shy. “too much?”
instead of answering, you lean up and kiss him, slow, deep, and full of all the things you couldn’t say until now. when you pull back, you rest your forehead against his, smiling as his thumb brushes over your cheek.
“i’m in love with you too, idiot.”
he grins, wide and a little teary-eyed, and pulls you closer like he’s never letting go.
and you know he won’t have to.
pls reblog & leave feedback <3 hope you enjoyed the read ◡̈
[ @jaeyuniversal ] prod. 250417
➺ PAIRING: lee heeseung x female reader
➺ GENRE: stepbrother au, smut
➺ SUMMARY: the story of how your stepbrother’s girlfriend realizes her boyfriend has never really been hers.
➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, possessiveness, heeseung can lift reader, cucking kink, voyeurism, masturbation (f), oral sex (f), fingering, face sitting, unprotected sex, creampies
➺ WC: 4.6k
NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.
A lot of people find your relationship with your stepbrother cute. How could they not? He’s always so doting and protective like a real brother would be. In spite of being only slightly older, Heeseung takes on a very important role in your life. He constantly goes out of his way to take care of you, making sure you have anything you could possibly need.
Heeseung’s girlfriend never thought too much about the relationship between you two. It was natural that he took the naive college freshman under his wing and constantly had you by his side. Mina found it endearing, actually. The way he worried about you like a mother hen who wasn’t ready for her young chick to go into the world alone is adorable and a good sign. After dating so many inconsiderate losers, she thinks she’s finally chosen the right guy.
But somewhere along the way, Mina starts to grow tired of it. Time has gone by, and you’re no longer a naive freshman who can’t get around without her boyfriend’s help. Of course family is important, but it’s not like you’re entirely helpless. And yet, that’s exactly the way Heeseung acts. He’s always ready to drop everything when you need him. On several humiliating occasions, he’s even left her half naked on his bed just to go to you because you bought something you couldn’t figure out how to put together, or because you wanted to hang out with him.
It’s hard for Mina to admit that she’s a little jealous. Especially because it all seems so ridiculous. There’s no way her boyfriend actually wants you like that. But as time goes on, she thinks that maybe she’s not all that crazy. Especially with the affectionate way her boyfriend looks at you. Despite all this, Mina doesn’t say anything. At least, not until Heeseung starts to bring you along to what were meant to be dates.
“Babe, why do you keep bringing your stepsister? i thought we were going on a date?” It’s hard for her to not sound bitter and annoyed.
“Her roommate is going to visit her parents, and I don’t want Y/N to be alone.” His tone is kind and gentle like always, but it’s also firm and leaves no room for arguments.
What’s worse is that Mina can’t bring herself to hate or blame you. In a way, she understands why her boyfriend is always so concerned about you. You’re so nice and trusting that it would be way too easy for someone to take advantage of that. There’s also the fact that you’ve been more than willing to let them have some alone time, but Heeseung never lets you leave.
It’s all so strange and frustrating that Mina feels like she has to take matters into her own hands. So she does.
The key to Heeseung letting you go is getting you a boyfriend—or at least getting you to start dating. It’s easy enough to find a guy who’s interested in you. That’s never been a problem for you, and all it takes is her showing your picture to the cute guy in her communications class for her plan to fall into place. As luck would have it, you’re also into meeting the guy and going out with him.
Little did Mina know, setting you up with him would be a mistake that would cost her everything.
On the night you’re meant to meet up with her classmate, Mina excitedly goes to her boyfriend’s apartment. It’s been a long time since she got to be alone with Heeseung, and she was going to make the most of it.
She’s dressed in tiny tank top and a cute little skirt that Heeseung loves—it barely hides the lingerie she’s wearing underneath. Mina quietly lets herself into her boyfriend’s apartment using her spare key. Quietly, she tiptoes to his room only to find the door wide open. What she doesn’t expect is to find you sitting on his the edge of bed while Heeseung kneels in front of you.
Mina feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on her as his pretty hands rub your soft thighs. You look incredible, clad in a cute little dress with your makeup and hair done to perfection. It’s a mistake for Mina to keep watching, but she can’t find her voice at the moment.
“Seungie, what’s wrong?”
God, Mina hates that you call him that. Mostly because she can tell how much Heeseung likes it.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going out to meet some guy?” Heeseung sounds almost venomous, but it’s like you don’t hear it. “Who is he? How’d you meet him?”
You tilt your head, pretty lips pulled down in a confused frown. “Didn’t Mina tell you? She set me up with a guy from her class. He’s really cute!”
A chill goes down Mina’s spine. She can see Heeseung’s back tense when you tell him how your date came to be. The air feels almost murderous as he gently squeezes your thighs.
It kills Heeseung that he was almost too late in stopping you from meeting some strange guy in the pretty little dress you have on. He softly rubs your thighs, eyes simmering with anger and desire he doesn’t care to hide. Not anymore.
“Oh, angel.” Your stepbrother murmurs, hands slowly trailing up to your thighs. “You know you’re my favorite girl, right?”
An unsuspecting smile graces your lips. “Yeah. And you’re my favorite guy.”
Heeseung hums in satisfaction as his fingers ghost the edges of your dress. He watches your eyebrows furrow, but you don’t say anything. As always, you have blind trust in your stepbrother. That’s all the indication he needs to get up and push you down on his bed. Heeseung hovers over you, loving how you’re staring up at him with sparkling, wide eyes. He swoops down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
Your heart is racing in your chest as Heeseung forces his tongue into your mouth. Despite the initial shock, you quickly melt into the kiss. He swallows your moans, pulling you closer as he deepens the messy kiss. You mewl into his mouth, carding your fingers through his hair with desire you had never realized you had for him.
Meanwhile, Mina can only watch as her boyfriend kisses you with a passion that he clearly never felt for her. It feels like her heart is ripping in half as Heeseung begins to undress you. Tears well up in her eyes when he groans at the sight of the lingerie adorning your body. Mina can see how hard he is from where she’s standing, and the desire in his eyes is very different from the way he looks at her.
“Can’t believe you got all pretty for some other boy.” Heeseung spits as he starts to undress. “Were planning on letting him fuck you?”
You shake your head and go to speak, but you can’t when Heeseung roughly pulls off your lingerie then his own underwear. His cock is thick and big, possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. It’s twitching and leaking as he looks at you with his dark eyes.
“W-We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whine as Heeseung shoves your thighs to your stomach and licks a broad stripe up your wet pussy.
Your stepbrother groans at your sweet taste, thrusting his tongue into your dripping hole. He laps up the juices leaking out of your slit, circling his tongue on your clit for good measure. The noise you let out is downright pornographic and pure music to Heeseung’s ears.
“Seungie!” You keen as you spread your legs and tangle your hands in his messy hair. “I– Fuck!”
Heeseung pulls back with a wet slurp to spread your cunt open with his big hands. “God. You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, angel. Just had to taste it.”
Each one of his words is like a dagger to Mina’s heart and confidence. Wet tears trickle down her face, but she doesn’t say anything as you pull on her boyfriend’s hair. Heeseung only moans and dives back into your slick cunt. He greedily laps up everything that drips out of you, sucking and kissing your clit.
“We shouldn’t be doing this, Hee.” You repeat through a needy mewl, making no attempt to stop him. In fact, you buck your pussy into his mouth as he sucks on your sensitive bud.
“Shh, angel.” Heeseung shushes as he flicks his tongue across your swollen bud. “Just relax and let me eat you out. Been wanting to do this for so long.”
Mina swallows thickly, the hurt slowly being replaced by something else. Her eyes grow bigger when she realizes which feeling is taking over. She shifts slightly, feeling a familiar wetness begin to pool in her panties. Mina feels sick that the sight of her boyfriend cheating on her can turn her on, and she thinks that she should leave right now and never return.
But she stays.
Mina licks her lips and continues to watch. Even she can’t help but think how hot you look, whimpering and writhing as Heeseung pushes your thighs apart so he can bury his face deeper in your pussy. He flicks his tongue, slowly descending until he’s lapping at your hole, slowly fucking the wet muscle in and out. Your eyes roll back as your stepbrother eats your pussy like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.
The sounds coming from your pussy and the way Heeseung messily eats you out has Mina’s own cunt clenching with need. She can feel her underwear start to stick to her cunt as she watches her boyfriend lap up your arousal like a starved man. Mina bites her lip, feeling sick and twisted for being turned on by your pretty moans.
Heeseung suddenly pulls away, but not before he slaps your thigh playfully. He goes to lay on his back all while wearing a filthy smirk. “Sit on my face.”
You bite your lip as a hot flash of arousal pulses through your body. Both your and Mina’s cunts throb at the suggestion. Heeseung sees your hesitation, but doesn’t back down.
“C’mon, baby. Be a good little stepsister and ride my fucking face.” He growls out with dark eyes.
With your pussy dripping, you crawl over to him and kneel over his face. Mina watches with heated eyes as you slowly lower your cunt on her boyfriend’s face. The heat in her stomach grows when she hears Heeseung groan in satisfaction.
“That’s it. I want your pretty pussy suffocating me.”
With that, your stepbrother grabs your hips and pulls your cunt down onto his face with a groan. Mewling quietly, you rub your cunt all over his mouth. Every time he moans or grunts, it sends little vibrations through your pussy. The delicious feeling has you grinding down on his tongue as you chase that feeling. Heeseung eagerly fucks his wet muscle into your hot cunt, already addicted to your sweet taste.
Mina swallows thickly when he sees Heeseung thrusting into the air as he eats you out. His cock is leaking and throbbing with need. Fuck. How she’d like to go and lick all that up, to have him fuck her mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. Mina rubs her thighs to soothe the growing ache in her pussy as she watches you ride Heeseung’s face.
Your eyes roll back when your stepbrother slaps your ass. A loud squeal spills from your lips as Heeseung keeps fucking his tongue up into your cunt. He grabs your ass and kneads it roughly. With one last groan and flick of his tongue, he sits up and takes you with him. The effortless display of strength turns both women on, one containing her moan while the other cries out as she’s pressed back into the mattress.
“Such a sweet little cunt.” Heeseung moans as he buries his face back into your dripping cunt. “Shit, Y/N. You’re fucking soaked down here.”
“Heeseung!” You cry out as he pries your thighs further apart. Your stepbrother shakes his head to grind his tongue against your sensitive cunt.
“Fuck, you have the hottest little pussy.” Heeseung lifts his head with a groan, lips shiny with your arousal. “Missed eating some good pussy. It’s been so long.”
Mina feels pathetic that her cunt throbs at his degrading words. She bites her lip, hands trailing up her thigh and to her soaked underwear. It’s so filthy and humiliating, but the ache in her pussy is getting to be too much. She slowly rubs circles on her covered cunt as she keeps watching her boyfriend cheat on her.
“Fuck, Seungie.” You mewl desperately. “S-Shouldn’t like having your face buried in my cunt.”
Heeseung smirks into your wetness. He gently circles his tongue on your clit, kissing it tenderly before he gently starts to nip at it with his teeth. Mina shoves her panties aside when you moan out in pleasure. Now she’s furiously rubbing at her bare pussy, wanting to see you cum on her boyfriend’s face.
“But you do, baby. You like me fucking you with my tongue, and I fucking love eating this sweet little pussy.”
Your hips buck up at the words, grinding your cunt against his mouth as you moan for him. Juices drip out of you lewdly, leaking down to your ass and onto Heeseung’s sheets. Your head is swimming with pleasure, and you have to remember that this is all so very wrong.
“You like that?” Heeseung teases you, loving how you’ve turned into putty in his hands. “Answer me, Y/N. Do you like your stepbrother telling you how much he loves tasting your juicy cunt?”
Your back arches when Heeseung sucks your puffy bud into his mouth. “God—yes! Feels so fucking good, Hee! Love having your mouth on my pussy.”
Heeseung growls, the vibrations making your cunt throb as he sucks and licks your swollen clit. Eager to have you cum on his tongue, he slips two fingers into your fluttering hole. Mina follows in suit, unable to take her eyes off the erotic sight of you getting ate out and fingered. Fuck. This was better than any porn she had ever watched. Her hand is dripping with her own arousal, and she can’t even feel disgusted anymore that she’s so turned on by the entire situation.
“Mmmh, shit, Hee.” You whine as the tips of his fingers brush against the gummy spot inside you. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
“Do it, baby. Cream all over my tongue.” He purrs in delight. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”
Heeseung flattens his tongue on your clit while his fingers grind into the spongy spot in your cunt. Your back arches off the bed, orgasm whiting out your thoughts as you cum around his long fingers.
Mina has to cover her mouth as Heeseung moans along with you. By now she’s shoved her fingers into her sopping pussy, the squelching sound is drowned out from the sounds coming from your own pussy. The filthy sight is driving her wild, and she’s so delirious with arousal that she wishes Heeseung would just fuck you already.
“You’re amazing, angel.” Your stepbrother praises with his fingers still buried knuckle deep in your pussy as he softly strokes your velvety walls. “So soft and wet. It makes me want to shove my dick into your tight little hole.”
Heeseung slowly pulls his fingers out of you, and you can only watched with a lidded gaze as he moves his body between your thighs. His cock is twitching and leaking as he grabs the base. He smacks his cock down on your slippery pussy, dragging his drooling tip up and down your slit slowly. Mina has to press her hand into her mouth harder to stifle her filthy moans. The sight of her boyfriend pressing his drooling cockhead into your soaking pussy is so hot she might just cum all over her fingers.
“S-Seungie—fuck. We shouldn’t.” You whimper as he leans forward and braces his arms by your head.
You and Mina both know you don’t really mean your words. It’s clear that you want your stepbrother to split you open on his big cock. That becomes obvious when you don’t try to stop him as he shoves his cock into your pussy until he bottoms out completely, balls pressing against your ass. Shuddering with pleasure, you scratch your nails up his arms as you sink into the bed.
“Pretty pussy was meant to take my cock.” Heeseung growls, already drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his dick. “Fuck. I know it’s wrong, baby, but I just couldn’t help myself. Your hot little cunt was just begging for my dick. Doesn’t it feel all nice and full having your pussy stuffed with your stepbrother’s big cock?"
Mina starts fucking herself harder when you nod desperately. Your hands go to tangle in his hair as you grind your hips up to meet his thrusts. “Yes! Fuck! Love my stepbrother’s cock stretching me open! Feels so fucking good, Hee!”
Mina knows better than anyone how good you must feel. Although, she imagines you feel must better than she ever did because from the way Heeseung’s fucking you, she can tell he’s doing it with much more enthusiasm and passion. Even his moans are more guttural and full of more pleasure than she’d ever heard. They’re deep as he pulls out until just his tip is spearing you open. Then, he pushes forward, thrusting his cock deep into your fluttering walls.
“That’s it. Tell me how good it feels.” Heeseung leans down, lips brushing against yours. “Don’t be shy, angel. Let me know how much you like this cock fucking you.”
You gasp wantonly and pull him down further to press your lips together. He groans and licks into your mouth easily, tongue slipping past your lips as his cock thrusts deep into your hot, wet cunt. Your hips buck up to meet his, loving how his dick rams into your sweet spot over and over until your sight is painted with pretty little stars.
“Fucking love it, Hee.” You moan between sloppy kisses. “God—I love your cock!”
The coil in Mina’s stomach is close to snapping. By now, her juices are dripping down to her wrist. Luckily, the lewd squelching and sound of skin slapping together drown out any noise she’s making. Heeseung is fucking you so hard and good that she can smell the musky scent of sex from where she’s standing. The erotic aroma turns her on even more, pussy clamping down on her fingers in desperate need of release.
“Tight little pussy feels so good.” Heeseung moans out between the quick pecks he’s giving you. “God, I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”
Your heart races as Mina’s breaks all over again. It hurts, but somehow that just turns her on even more. She keeps fingering herself as tears pool in her eyes.
With a low moan, your pussy clamps down on Heeseung’s dick tightly as you go to eagerly kiss him. A soft I love you, too goes unnoticed by Mina, but not by your stepbrother. He groans into your mouth, cock throbbing inside you.
“Mmmh.” Heeseung hums against your lips before he trails wet kisses down your neck. “I love my gorgeous girl. That’s why this feels so good. Even your tight little pussy knows how much I love you.”
His gorgeous girl? Mina thinks deliriously, orgasm dangerously close. It’s something he never referred to her as.
You cry out loudly when Heeseung bites your neck and sucks the skin into his mouth. His hips rock against yours, balls smacking against your ass as his pelvis grinds down on your swollen clit.
“Seungie!” You whine in ecstasy. “I’m getting close.”
Your stepbrother doesn’t let up. In fact, his thrusts seem to get faster and rougher. His cock pistons in and out of your cunt, creating sloppy wet sounds as you get even wetter. His eyes are dark as he pulls back to look at you, all pretty squirming and trembling on his cock.
“Cum for me, baby. Cover my cock with your sweet cream so I can fill you up.” Heeseung pants. “Cum on my cock, angel.”
His teeth sink into your neck again, and it pushes you over the edge. Your hot cunt throbs as you squeeze down on his cock. Somehow your pussy only gets tighter and tighter as you get fucked through your orgasm. You tighten your legs around his waist until he can barely pull out, rutting his cock in short shallow thrusts as your climax starts to taper off.
“So fucking tight.” Heeseung hisses by your ear. “Shit, baby. Get ready. I’m about to creampie your cute little pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
With a strangled grunt, he buries his cock to the hilt and shoots his load deep inside your fluttering walls while your pussy softly milks him for every drop of his hot cum. Mina reaches her own climax when she sees her boyfriend cumming inside you. She has to stifle her moans as she trembles and shakes outside the room that’s filled with the smell and sounds of hot sex.
“You’re taking it so well, angel.” Heeseung kisses your jaw tenderly as his fat tip spurts rope after rope of his thick cum into your clenching heat. “Milking my cock like I knew you would.”
He grinds his hips down, cock pulsing as he finishes stuffing you full of his hot, sticky load. Your stepbrother fucks his cum inside a bit more before reluctantly pulling out. Heeseung’s cock throbs as he watches his seed drip from your messy pussy.
He licks his lips, heated gaze never leaving your body. “Let’s do it again.”
You don’t try to protest as your manhandles into a different position. Mina is still coming down from her high when she realizes her boyfriend is still hard and about to fuck you again. She knows she shouldn’t feel excited or aroused by the fact, but she does. Especially when your face is shoved into one of Heeseung’s pillows just before his big cock rails back into your needy pussy.
Heeseung starts fucking you so hard his headboard slams into the wall repeatedly. The harsh sound pairs well with the plop plop plop sound coming from your cunt.
“God, Y/N. You’re so fucking good for me.” Heeseung groans when you clench down on him.
You moan loudly, bouncing yourself back on his cock. “Fu-Fuck, Seungie. This is wrong. We s-shouldn’t be doing this.”
“I know.” Your stepbrother smacks your ass, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “It’s so dirty baby, but I couldn’t help myself. Had to get my dick wet using your pretty little pussy.”
“Mmmh!” You whine out mindlessly, face turned to the side with your ass raised in the air for Heeseung to fuck deeper into your wet hole. “Feels so fucking good!”
“Yeah, it does.” Heeseung’s laugh sounds almost mean as he speeds up his thrusts to fuck his cock harder into your sopping cunt. “Your cute little pussy is the best I’ve ever had.”
His words shouldn’t please you as much as they do, but those lewd words turn you on so much that you can’t stop your cunt from tightening around him as he keeps spearing into you like an animal in heat. They also shouldn’t turn on Heeseung’s girlfriend but that’s exactly what they do. She isn’t angry, only extremely aroused as your ass bounces back on your stepbrother’s pelvis.
“Fuck!” Heeseung groans, fucking his cock right into your g-spot. “You’re so fucking hot, angel.”
You are. So hot that Mina finds herself wishing she could eat Heeseung’s cum out of your pretty cunt. She just knows you taste good, and mixed with her boyfriend she’s sure you must taste even better.
“Seungie, please!” You cry out, dizzy with arousal.
“Shit.” He growls, slipping a hand underneath your hips to rub fast circles on your clit. “Gonna make you cream on my cock again.”
“Heeseung!” You squeal as he picks up his pace, ramming into your squelching pussy as he rubs soft circles into your swollen clit.
Your stepbrother shoves his cock deep into your cunt and grinds, making you squirm and whine as his dick rubs against the spongy spot in your pussy. Your hands twist in the sheets. He flicks and pinches your puffy clit. God, do you look good, and so does Heeseung. Mina is groping one of her tits while the other hand goes to play with her pussy again. Briefly, she thinks she wouldn’t mind having a video of you two fucking so she can watch it over and over again.
“Hee, I’m gonna cum.” You moan against the pillow.
“Do it, baby.” He encourages you, free hand coming down to slap your ass hard. “Cum all over my cock. Want to feel your hot cunt squeeze me.”
It’s not long before your orgasm hits. You’re screaming into your pillow as your cream coats Heeseung’s big cock. Your pussy clamps rhythmically around his dick. Mina can’t see you, but with the way your toes are curling she can tell your eyes are rolling to the back of your head in pure ecstasy.
“Oh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Heeseung praises you. His hands move to slap your ass again, making you squeal and tighten again. “Fucking work your little pussy on my cock. Fuck. Need to fill you up again.”
“Want you to stuff me full.” You whine back at him, pussy fluttering at the thought of Heeseung’s cum filling your cunt again.
“Yeah?” Your stepbrother laughs, sounding way too delighted. “Want me to creampie your hot little cunt again?”
“Please!” You whine as Heeseung’s fingers slide over your hip to start working soft circles into your clit again. You writhe back on him, feeling yourself get even wetter at the filthy thought of him shooting his hot load inside you.
“Cum inside me, Hee.” You pant, mewling when his fingers rub your clit even faster. “Want it so bad. Want to feel it.”
“Oh, fuck.” Heeseung groans, hips snapping hard against your ass when he feels how tight you’ve gotten. “You ready, baby? Fucking take it. Take your stepbrother’s cum in your needy little cunt.”
You moan loudly when you feel his hot cum filling your pussy, stuffing you so full it drips out around his cock. Heeseung ruts his spent cock into your sloppy pussy as he pinches your clit, watching as your back arches as a fourth orgasm sweeps through you. You lazily fuck your cunt back into him, loving the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and coating your thighs.
Heeseung pulls out of your warm cunt with a low groan. He’s quick to pull you against his chest and lays you down with him. His face is buried in your hair, eyes closed in bliss as you both try to catch your breaths. You feel his smile in your hair as he cuddles you and murmurs sweet praises against your temple.
Through your drooping eyes, you catch sight of Mina. Her eyes widen when you two make eye contact. You can’t hide your smirk when you see that she was masturbating to the sight of Heeseung fucking you raw. Instead of saying anything, you give her a seductive wink. Mina clenches around her fingers because the wink is full of understanding and promises.
It’s clear that Heeseung was never hers, but maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing.
I’m a survivor from Gaza, holding on to hope in a world that has fallen apart around me. 💔
The life I once knew — my home, my family, my sense of safety — has been shattered by war. Today, I live among the ruins, trying to find a path forward through the rubble and heartbreak. 🏚
Every moment is a battle against fear and uncertainty. What was once ordinary — a safe place to sleep, a future to dream of — now feels like a distant memory. 🕊️
I share my story not to seek pity, but to keep hope alive — to believe that even in the darkest places, kindness can still find a way. 🤍
If my story touches your heart, please consider sharing it or offering support. Every voice, every act of care, brings me one step closer to safety. ✨
Thank you for taking the time to listen. 🙏
Post Link
i’ll keep you in my prayers <3 sending light love and hope for better days! 🫶🏼🫶🏼
The good looking neighbors never know when to shut up so instead they shut you up
pairing— boxer!jay x fem!reader x boxer!jake
genre: smut minors do not interact, boxer/boys next door au, p without plot
wc: 11.2k
warnings: profanity, kissing, sweat, mention of injuries, mention and scene of violence/fighting(boxing)
smut warnings: filthy, unprotected sex, p in v, threesome, dom!jay, soft dom!jake, dirty talk, creampie, fingering, squirting, oral (f+m rec.), deep throating, praising, slight degradation, cum eating, usage of nicknames (babe, sweetheart, nasty girl, sweet girl)
Groggily opening your eyes, the sleep that once engulfed you now faded away to the muffle loud ruckus. Your eyebrows knitted roughly before taking a look at the time before a deep sigh let your mouth.
Realizing and knowing your neighbors are not going to finish until the crack of dawn—like always. Your chair screeched as you roughly stepped out of your apartment, walking over to apartment 512.
Rubbing your sore neck from the sleeping position you were awakened from,“Do they ever know when to be quiet?” You mumbled, your hands dragging down your face as you tried to ignore the evident loud grunts and sound of rubber colliding drawing closer with each step
At first, you thought having two good looking neighbors would’ve been the best thing to ever happen in your life. Always trying to catch
a glimpse of them in the beginning until the loud ruckus began not even an hour after they moved in.
Trying to give them the benefit of the doubt that it’d just be every now and then while they get accustomed into the new apartment, but when it kept happening every single waking hour possible in the day, you began to grow agitated.
You don’t know how many times you’ve complained to them about the noise or how many times they promised to keep the noise down to a minimum as you promised to not file a noise complaint but they never filled their end of the bargain and you’re tired of it.
Banging roughly on their door, hoping they could hear it past the already loud noise in there and just to your luck, a few seconds later, there was no response.
As you continued to bang at the door, determined to not leave until they opened up, the door opened in a haste but it was too late for you to stop your hand. Suddenly mimicking the knocking motion on a hard chest, you yanked your hand away.
The male in front of you smirked, looking down at the pec you knocked on, “Don’t think this one is going to answer, why don’t you try the other one?” He rested his head against his leaning arm, the sweat trickling down his forehead down to his jaw, tracing it down during its way
Your eyebrows furrowed seeing the new face. This was not either of your neighbors.
“Who’s at the door, Hoon?” You heard a breathless accented voice from inside the apartment and able to immediately recognize it from the sheer amount of times you heard it
“Promise to keep quiet” and “Didn’t mean to be so loud babe”
All empty lies from him—Jake.
“Don’t know but she’s cute” The said Hoon chuckled as he stared at you, his eyes traveling up and down your figure drinking in your appearance
The small compliment managed to tickle your brain as you tried to stop the heating from fully reaching your cheeks. “What’s your name?” The male leaned his head to level with yours but before you could comprehend a plausible answer, he was pulled away and there you saw the familiar face
Sharp jawline, piercing eyes, ruffled hair with a freshly new undercut drenched in sweat. The bulging biceps from the clinging tank top where you could outline every dip and crevice on his sculpture body.
“Jay” You squeaked out causing a light smirk to form on his face as he ushered his friend Hoon away from the door but not before he shot a wink towards your way waving out his thumb and pinky close to his ear, mouthing the words call me
“Sorry about… Just ignore him” Jay panted out, using the back of his hand to wipe away the sweat hanging from his chin
You gulped trying to keep your eyes leveled with his and to not look at the clear muscle definition sticking out with his every movement.
“He’s the least of my concern right now” You mumbled, which in fact was true, you fiddled with the hem of your shirt before clearing your throat, “How many times do I have to tell you guys to keep it down?”
“Sorry about that sweetheart-”
“I’ve told you and Jake to stop calling me those names” You huffed out causing Jay to chuckle using his fingers to brush away the hair sticking to his skin showcasing his sweat filled face
Your eyes looked over and saw a scratch on his forehead that was covered before. “It was a rough match” Jay spoke noticing your interest on the cut, “But don't worry, I won” He pumped his pride filled chest out, a side smile appearing on his face
“I-I didn’t- I don’t care” You looked away to anywhere that wasn’t him already feeling the heat spreading throughout your body, “Just stop or keep it down tonight, please”
“Oh?” Jay raised an eyebrow, never hearing you beg before but quickly loving how you sound, “You really want us to shut up, don’t you?”
“So damn badly” You softly let out making Jay raise his hands up in defense as his wordless apology
“We’ll try but no promises” He smiled hoping it’d satisfy you a little but only received an annoyed eye roll as you walked back to your place
Jay’s hand gripped the door frame, his body leaning forward to watch your hips swaying as you walked away, “Bye” He called out earning a warning glare as you opened the door and slammed it
He smirked to himself, closing his own door. “You guys must be annoying to live next to” Hoon commented as he rested up a chair waiting for Jay to return
“Shut up Sunghoon” Jay sneered earning a howl from his friend hearing the harsher tone used towards him unlike the softer voice used with you
“Just stating the facts” Sunghoon raised his hands up in surrender, “But what’s her name?”
“She’s so my type”
“Fuck off Hoon” Jake striked a direct hit towards the punching bag, the rubber sound echoing out before sending another strike as he spoke, ”She wouldn’t want you”
“Oh I’m sorry, did she tell you that?” Sunghoon raised his eyebrows towards Jake, “Why won’t she be into me? Because I’m not some fucking boxer like you two?”
Jay walked over to his discarded wraps of a glove, wrapping the white fabric around his hand and knuckles with precision making sure not a single piece of skin showing, “Exactly” Jay threw the boxing curved towards Sunghoon who grunted when he revived them on his stomach
“Now get up, I need to practice”
✮⋆˙
Coming back from a tiring day, you were ready to fall asleep the moment you met your bed. You let out a heavy sigh of relief seeing your front door in view. Just as you took a step forward, the door next to yours opened wide.
“Hurry up Jay” Jake yelled holding the door opened but it whacked behind him once he caught sight of you
He hissed at the collision and rubbed the back of his head, you sucked your teeth into a hiss but being the boxer he is, he must be used to it.
“It doesn’t kill you to hold open the door” You heard Jay’s voice once the door opened again, “Fucking move-” Jay shoved the frozen Jake out of the way and there he saw you looking at them standing not far away from them
You looked between the two males, now noticing the different duffle bags they each held. Jake having a lighter washed out green with his name largely written in the front and Jay having a blacked out one with different designs all around, “We have a match today” You looked back up to Jake who’s hand that now hovered over his head noticing your lingering eyes
Your lack of response made them shift to stand side by side with each other, reminding you of the times, very few times why you were happy—almost glad that they were your neighbors in the first place.
Not only one but two good looking boys next door who just so happen to be boxers, with raging muscles that called for you to claw at was the wildest and grandest fantasy you could ever have which became your reality when your two lovely neighbors showed up at your doorstep introducing themselves.
Opting to stay quiet, you slowly nodded your head and took a step in the opposite direction of them but stopped when you heard one of them speak up, “Wanna wish us good luck babe?”
“This match…” Jake looked off to the side catching Jay’s glance towards him, “It might be the biggest one of our career” Jake said turning his gaze back onto you and you furrowed your eyebrows noticing a glint of sparkle in his eyes
Why want you to wish them luck? You had no grand power towards them. “Uh good luck?” Your supposed support ended in hesitance rather than a welcoming gesture
“Who do you think will win? Me or Jake?” Jay suddenly chipped in, wrapping his arm around his friend where it allowed you to focus on the bicep growing in size
Taking a discreet gulp, you shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t know, who’s the better boxer?” Your question meaning to be harmless but noticing the sudden shift in them made you unconsciously straighten your posture
Not entirely sure why you’re deciding to entertain them but it’s definitely more fun than collapsing onto your bed.
“Why don’t you find out sweetheart?” Jay’s voice suddenly dropped into a slurred tone making your insides twist as you crossed your legs trying to hide how easy it was to leave you flustered
You hated the nicknames they used to address you but it sure did leave a squish in between your legs.
Jay’s smirk grew in size once he saw your reaction, Jake on the other hand, grew in dissatisfaction to the lack of attention towards him. He pushed Jay’s arm off his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “No need to worry or stress about it too much, I’ll win since you know” Jake shrugged his shoulder while consciously flexing his arms his shirt lifting in the process showing the bottom outline of his toned stomach in a teasing manner “I’m the better boxer”
“I’ll even dedicate my win to you-”
“You sure sound confident you’ll win” You sucked in your teeth cutting him off, tilting your head to the side, “Isn’t it bad to be cocky?” Jay turned his head to the side to stifle his laugh as Jake’s shoulder dropped along with his face
“No- Not cocky, what- There’s nothing wrong with being confident of yourself ” Jake defended himself making sure to put the emphasis on confident in his sentence causing you and Jay to burst out in an unexpected coordinated laugh
“Alright, if you’re so confident. Then win it” Jay stopped his laughter instantly with a dropped jaw while Jake held back a prideful smile at the faith you have in him
“And what’s in it for us?” Jay grabbed Jake’s shoulder to pull his friend back enough for him to step up
Jake shot Jay a look—a warning one that screamed for him to shut up.
You jerked your head back, thinking it was a terrible joke but seeing the seriousness in his face made you stop from laughing, “You want something for me?”
“I thought pride and dignity would be enough knowing that you won”
Jay shook his head and Jake pulled at his friend’s shoulder muttering something incoherent to you but noticing the snapped look Jay gave Jake who glared at him made you raise an eyebrow.
Jay sighed before shaking his head, “Yeah whatever, pride and dignity stuff is what matters” He waved off, hiking up the duffle bag from his slipping hand
“I-I mean we could play genie…” You cringed at the choice of words but tried to look past it as a terrible humor attempt, “Winner gets one wish but you each grant me one wish in return no matter who wins”
The sudden vocal admit of being able to receive something from you—of their choice triggered something into their mind, already motioning the gears sooner than when they were originally supposed to move.
“Wha-Why do we both have to grant you one wish? Seems unfair to me” Jay narrowed his eyes to hide the excitement building up in him
“You owe me that much at least” You snapped back, “Do you know how much I put up with you two? I think it’s fair game”
“Well in boxing-” Jay started but Jake quickly covered his mouth and pulled him back showing a gleeful smile
“Don’t listen to him, you got yourself a deal” Jake extended his freehand out for you grasp while handling the frantic Jay in his arm wanting to push him away
Feeling the twist of your stomach warning of the lack of care in your words or the situation in general but a wave of excitement took over in a matter of seconds as you focused on greater matters.
What you need to buy for the upcoming birthday this week and the bulging muscles peeping out from underneath their shirts.
Grasping Jake’s soft yet harsh hand, you both shook on it. A way too wide smile on his face and a strained one on yours. Regrets, you’ve had them, you just wish this wouldn’t be one of them.
✮⋆˙
“Remember our deal Jay” Jake reminded his friend and roommate with a smirk as his red mouthpiece showed the hidden excitement slipping out
Jay waved him off, tapping the side of his blue headgear to get in the zone. Both were aware of what could be theirs due to the grand opportunity presented to them by your terms so losing wasn’t really up their alley.
“Hey” Jay turned around hearing the call with furrowed eyebrows
Jake smirked before clicking the strap off, allowing his headgear to slip off his shoulder and down to the ground. Jay’s eyes never left Jake’s once, his stoic face soon grew a smile noticing the insinuation, “No gear, just gloves and mouthpiece”
He didn’t respond to Jake’s words, only following in suit during the silence. He clicked off his headgear to land in his arm and threw it off to the side with a loud clunk as it rolled off. Jake’s smile grew wider before kicking his own piece out to follow Jay’s.
“May the best man win” Jay murmured as he walked over, pushing out his glove covered hands for Jake to clink
Once the tip of their gloves touched, they both went to their respective corners in the confided boxing arena with worn out ropes outlining it that’s long overdue for its replacement.
Jake tapped his bare stomach feeling the crevice even through his glove as he shook out his limbs to get rid of any tension that could alter his performance.
Jay twisted his neck side of side, stretching his upper body backwards enjoying the cracks of the built up pressure releasing. He let out a satisfied groan.
At the sound of the whistle, they marched over to the middle, face to face, a stern determined look that screamed louder than anything they could express through words.
At the weak ding 5 seconds later, Jake striked the first punch causing Jay to step back in haste to avoid it. ”Wasting no time” He muttered under his breath before jumping on his toes
His arms leveled with his head protecting it with the lack of extra protection from the discarded headgear. Jake was still smiling through the whole thing as he twisted his body to the side.
He trains with Jay day in and day out that they are practically one, he knows how his roommate attacks.
Jay took his infamous step forward, his arm coming from below but Jake’s eyes caught it before it could fully land. He blocked the attack with his arm, deflecting it away.
“C’mon Jongseong, you’ll have to be better than that” Jake spat through his mouthpiece and Jay rolled his eyes at the muffled comment
While Jake was silently laughing at his comment like it was hilarious, Jay took the opportunity to swing straight to Jake’s side making him wince upon impact. “Shit” He grunted under his breath from the unexpected attack having Jay chuckle showing a covered teeth smile
You’re the one that’ll have to be better than that was Jay’s famous internal monologue before tumbling back from the strike straight to his stomach knocking him off his feet landing Jake the lead up by 1 point.
The match now tied continued far longer than they wanted but it was to be expected. Grander schemes were at play and in their minds, both of them needed to win this match, the two s’ in their lives depended on this.
Social and the other s that they’ve been denying far too long forcing it to bubble all thoughts in their minds whenever you’re around.
Jay could feel the exhaustion catching up to his body, the faint metallic taste on his tongue when he licked his lips. Jake, having his sweat mixed with whatever else was spilling out of him dragged down his neck, a wild smirk on his face mimicking his crazed gaze.
Having the more stamina out of the two, he barely had a dent in his energy levels unlike his roommate. Jake sucked his bottom lip, victory never tasted so good before.
Right when Jake was going to swing his final punch to end the match and earn the last point needed for his sweet sweet win, he felt the harsh pressure straight to his head knocking him down to the ground without much thought.
His head was pounding against his skull as he landed on his knees and elbows, trying to push his body back up to continue to the match, barely able to hear the faint countdown through his ringing ear.
Jay tapped the floor repeatedly in pure excitement once time was called. He walked around the secluded arena hyping himself up from the great play.
Jake crumbled and turned his body around to face the poorly lit ceiling, “I win” Jay’s bruised face came into view, panting heavily as he extended an arm to help the sprawled Jake up who glared up at him, shoving the helping arm away in a grunt
“Fucking cheater” Jake grumbled, “You swung a foul hook”
“We never said anything about following match rules” Jay twisted his head to the side, shrugging his shoulders like he did no wrong—well technically he didn’t. “I just interpreted it as a free fall” Jake’s face contorted in dissatisfaction at his friend’s words
Jake continued to stare up at Jay, the dim lighting behind blinded him in the process. The cocky demeanor that Jay tried to push down now slipping through that Jake could feel it in himself and he lost.
Rolling his eyes, he sat up his sore body from the hard mattress, the side of his jaw and head tingling with a sensation he tried to ignore from the reality of his loss. “C’mon Jake no hard feelings right?”
“You remember our deal” Being reminded while he finally stood up, Jake tapped Jay’s chest before grabbing his neck to crash and rest their sweaty foreheads together in hopes of the simple gesture being the wordless reminder of the full length of their deal
“Don’t fucking ruin her before me” Jake sneered causing Jay to smile widely as he dragged out the mouthguard, moving his mouth around to the freedom letting out a dark laugh as he stared right back into Jake’s eyes
“Where’s the fun in that?”
✮⋆˙
Your mouth fell slack as Jay stood at your door all bruised up as he dropped the filled duffle bag to the ground with a loud thump, “I won” He breathlessly muttered but his tone secure and firm
“Did you really?” You quietly commented seeing the dried up scratches and faint bruises forming on his sculptured face with his frizzy drenched hair
Something sickening twisted inside of you as you stare not able to peel your eyes away from him. Your legs stuck tighter together, it must be a worrying pity that you were feeling but the excitement that began to rise when you opened the door to see him was undeniable.
Jay huffed snapping you out of it, “I want my wish”
Perplexed, you blinked your eyes harshly, “What?” You asked wanting to make sure you heard him right through the muffling of your ears growing by the second he’s in your presence like this
“You said let’s play genie. So let’s play genie”
Trying to keep your jaw from dropping to the floor now realizing how your words did in fact come to bite you. Your eyes traveled around his face looking past the injuries to see pure determination. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out.
Nerves began seeping into your brain as you tried to make sense of his blazing determination, “I-I wait- Wha-What?” You stuttered out when Jay’s head suddenly leveled with yours as he drew closer
His faint breath fanning over yours, tilting his head to the side staring off to the distance, sucking his teeth in the process, “For my wish…” Jay turned his gaze back to you, nose bumping into each in the process from the closeness, “Take care of me”
You gulped harshly at his conceding words. There felt to be an underlying sense from just what was being said. As you stared at his deep eyes, it was like he read every thought that was crossing your mind—searching for the one that yelled for him.
“I-I don’t have anything to treat you” You softly mumbled but your eyes never looked away making him let out a low chuckle while his unnoticed hovering hand landed on your lower back to squish the distance in between to nothing
“What type of genie are you?” Jay jokingly tooted his lips softly shaking his head, “That’s okay sweetheart, good thing for you I have everything you need”
And a few moments later, you found yourself sitting on Jay’s bed, in his room that is exactly what you imagined it to be. A waif of musky cologne, a bunch of weights scattered around, an inflatable punching bag and to your surprise two guitars—one electric disconnected from the amplifier and an acoustic in the corner.
You dropped your head into your hands from the blur of you stepping out of your place and following Jay back to his only to find yourself in his room, on the edge of his bed and the prominent flutter in your chest growing in anticipation.
You should’ve been more careful with your words.
“What are you doing here?” You remained quiet holding your head in your hand, trying to ignore the question from Jake who you quickly recognized by the accent slipping through, “Babe?”
“I told you not call me any na-” You started hearing his voice drawing in as you lifted your head up only then realizing just how close Jake was to you all of sudden
Jumping from the unexpected closeness, Jake quickly wrapped an arm around you to prevent you from toppling over to the floor. “You should be more careful. Can’t have all three of us hurt” He lightly chuckled
Taking into account his words, you stared at him wide eyed soaking in the bruised lip, a cut on his cheek with a growing redding and a cut that peeked from under the messy fluffy hair faintly covering his eyes that you itched to sweep away.
In a moment of silence, Jake's eyes poured deep into yours—not in search of anything just merely looking, he let out a low sigh, “Don’t think I ever told you how pretty you are” He hummed while his eyes zeroed on your lips for a second longer, making sure you noticed “You’re so pretty” His eyes looked up to catch yours staring right at him, never looking away
Your mouth slightly fell open to respond but instead a strained noise came out of your mouth, “I have a small wish” Jake murmured in a soft hallucinated tone, his lips so close to yours, “Will you give it to me?”
“Jake” You breathlessly let out and Jake crashed his hovering lips onto yours and almost instantaneously, you closed your eyes shut and fell into his plump lips smiling against yours
The puttering of your heart was so loud, you're worried Jake might’ve been able to hear it from how close he was. The pad of his thumb rubbed softly at your back while he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss as much as he could.
His freehand rose and cupped at your jaw to stabilize himself, his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, silently pleading for your permission. You cracked open your mouth as he entered like he’s been waiting for so long.
Your hands grabbed the thin fabric you would barely call a t-shirt clinging to his body for support. Pulling at your lip, you slightly jolt making him smile harder in the kiss. His hand traveled from your jaw to the side of your neck as he pulled away from the kiss.
You chased after his lips with closed eyes not wanting to feel the warmth disappear but your eyes shot wide open when you felt wet splotches placed at the side of your neck.
Jake messily planted feathering kisses all around your neck. Your hands gripped his hair, erupting groans from him as you pulled when he nibbled at your skin.
Your neck fell pliant in his hand, providing all access to him. Jake roughly stuck his body to yours, curving your body with his. “Jake” You breathlessly pant, your eyes fluttering shut
“That’s right, say my name” He grumbled against your skin while his fingers dug into your sides not wanting to let you go even for a second
“You fucking sleeze” You jumped at the sudden voice not far from you or Jake
Jay stood at his door, an amused smirk resting on his face. He pushed back his hair from his forehead with a dark chuckle causing your stomach to erupt in butterflies.
Jake let out a heavy sigh, dropping his head down but his hands never letting go. He craned his neck back to see his roommate staring right at you, ignoring his presence as a whole.
Jake shrugged his shoulders as Jay threw the first-aid kit on his neat desk scattering the stuff around in the process, “You wasted your time”
The door behind him closed with a click following after and you watched, realizing you were locked with the boys next door. “No you’re just impatient and couldn’t wait your turn” Jay sneered as he strutted towards you and Jake, the bubbling anger in him filled the room
You looked between the two and Jay took notice of your wavering eyes between them, his eyes trailed down and saw when you squished your legs tightly together under his gaze.
The feel of anger melted away as he stepped closer, placing his hands on his knees as he leveled at your head. He chuckled while his thumb reached out and softly stroked your cheek. “Or maybe you’re the impatient one” He grinned and you looked at him like an animal caught in headlights
His eyes bore into you, his side smirk only grew wider when you looked away from him. That was the answer he needed. He patted his roommate’s shoulder until he looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.
Jay tilted his head, pointing towards the lonely chair in his room far from the bed. Jake aggressively shook his head, not wanting to give up what he already started but Jay gripped his shoulder tighter and repeated the motion. “Move. A deal is a deal”
The reminder trickled the built-up sweat down the back of your neck. A moment of silence for the lost session before Jake grumbled under his breath, his hands loosening on your waist before pushing Jay’s hand off with an annoyed huff.
You watched Jake hunched over to the chair, kicking the chair in the process before sitting down with a loud deep sigh, folding his arms—the biceps and triceps peeking from underneath one another as he stared in front of you two.
Jay’s hand cupped your chin and pulled your head away from Jake’s direction onto him. “Let him wallow in his self pity for now. Right now, let’s focus on us genie” The name shouldn’t have let you hot and bothered the way it did but when Jay’s calloused hands cupped your face lifting it high up for him, all thoughts went out the window
Your eyes stared up at him and Jay felt a familiar carnal bloom inside of him. The crease at your cheek reappeared as he toppled his head down to capture your lips with his.
The initial shock melted away as your eyes fluttered closed again and you were enclasped in the moment with Jay. His hand held your jaw delicately, different from how you originally anticipated.
His lips moved with yours and you felt everything around you turn into nothing, even the other male sitting eyes burning into your existence.
Jay’s hand traced down to your neck, holding it firmly in his hold. Your hands gripped at his nape, your fingers tugging at the bottom hairs making him groan as he softly pushed you on his bed.
Your mind was dizzy, you could feel the twitch of his mouth, your lips would graze his damaged one. “Sorry” You managed to say through the kiss but Jay only smiled as he pressed his lips harder against yours hoping that it’d mold together as one
Letting out a squeak from your throat, you felt Jay’s hand drag up your side. The roughness contrasted Jake’s eagerness, whose leg bounced up and down as he watched the scene before him.
Jay’s lip melted with yourself that you could nearly taste the metallic taste on your taste bud when his tongue slipped past.
Your hand tangled with his hair, his hand roughly grabbing at your side as he hovered over your body.
Sinking into his mattress, you melted further into cloud 9. The lack of oxygen started to infiltrate your foggy brain, worsening it by the second, your mind screamed for a second of air while your body interpreted the kiss as your only need of oxygen.
Hearing your heavy shallow breaths Jay pulled away from the kiss and with hooded eyes, he took a glimpse towards you which stunned him. Your swollen lips begging for more, your closed eyes and hanging open mouth as you finally took in deep breaths to make up for the lack of it.
Before him was a scene he wanted to burn in his mind forever.
Feeling Jay pull away from you, you lazily opened your eyes to see him looking at you with a certain glint in his eyes making your insides churn.
Jay dipped his head down to the crevice of your neck and began planting soft kisses just like how Jake had done. You lifted your body off the bedding feeling his mouth messily leaving wet splotches on your neck. Your chest rumbled out with a satisfied held back moan.
“Let me- No Let Jakey over there hear how good I’m making you feel” The mention of the male made you turn to the side to see Jake with folded arms glaring at the two of you
You made eye contact with his strong one’s and saw the faintest smirk ghost his face as he slightly jerked his lips forward pointing to where you lay sprawled with Jay hovering over you—ushering you to pay attention to what’s in front of you.
“You’re shivering sweetheart” Jay pointed out feeling the goosebumps forming on your skin, he smirked before taking a nip at your neck causing your attention to come back to him
Jay’s kisses furthered down your neck until he reached the starting point of your shirt’s neckline. His eyes looked to yours, silenting asking for permission—waiting for the sign. You stared right at him as you softly nodded your head.
The smile he gave was different from the other’s he has given you, this being more genuine and softening. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, feeling the material against his touch before carefully hiking it up exposing your skin.
It felt like it was in slow motion. Jay’s eyes never trained off of yours, as you shivered once the cold air hit your skin and you could feel the warmth radiating off his hands grazing your skin. “I got you” He softly whispered just enough for you to hear noticing your shuddered
Your arms lifted up as Jay peeled the fabric off before throwing it behind him to be discarded.
Jake watched the shirt thrown his way and the sneak of a glance Jay took towards him, a prideful expression—gesture. His jaw clenched as he quickly unfolded his arms and the chair he was sitting in screeched from under him.
“Uh oh I think someone is growing impatient” Jay voice filled with a teasing tone as he saw how Jake walked over in strides
You lifted your head to see Jake standing next to the bed, “Can I help you?” Jay raised an eyebrow causing Jake to scowl before it instantly melting when he looked at you
He cleared his throat before tapping at Jay’s shoulder, “Time’s up” He told trying to make his tone firmer than usually which was followed by a stifled laugh from Jay who dropped his head for a moment at his roommates sternness
“Let’s see…” Jay caught your flickering eyes with a smile tilting his head just a little, “What do you think? Should we let him join us?”
You gulped down the lump in your throat. Through the fog of your mind, you registered your two good looking neighbors, the beat up boxer’s before you—both looking at you with a look that you couldn’t decipher but could feel in your bones.
You opened your mouth only to close it not trusting yourself to speak coherent sentences that wouldn’t end up with you tangled in the bed with the two of them but deep down it was what you wanted.
Only able to let out out a breathlessly tone as you roughly nodded your head , “Yes please”
Jake’s smile grew wildly as he hastily removed his shirt in one swift motion. Jay rolled his eyes at his friend before being shoved to the side by Jake who replaced his position. “What the-” You heard Jay off to the side but couldn’t focus on what else he said as your focus fell back onto Jake
You shifted in your spot at the sudden switch but Jake’s comforting smile eased your nerves. Hovering above you, his arm with his bulging bicep supporting him while his other hand stroked against your cheek.
Your eyes took in his face before trailing down body. The biceps are prominent with no distraction covering it, the cut of his triceps trailing down, his collar bone sticking out that your hand itches to grab at—more preferably gnaw at to keep you quiet and the outlining of his toned stomach that you’ve only seen through teasing manners in all its glory.
As you trailed further down, you see the raging bulge being restrained in his sweats. Your jaw nearly dropped seeing the print against the material but forcibly keeping your mouth closed was easier said than done.
Your eyes looking back up to see Jake’s hungry filled ones, a smile that melted your heart almost instantaneously. “You’re the prettiest girl ever” He softly murmured before going to capture your lips in a chaste kiss
Receiving it just as easily as it was given to you, your hands tangled into his fluffy hair that you’ve waited so long to rake through. Yet, through the muffle of your ears, you were able to pick up off the shuffling beside you.
Jake sucked at your bottom lip, tugging at the flesh with a grin before pulling away with a heavy breath. He rested his forehead against yours before making his way down your cheek then to your jaw, “Picking up where I left off” He blabbed against your neck as he softly sucked on the skin
His hand softly pushed your head to the side as his mouth traveled all over your neck. Having your neck craned, you’re faced with Jay smirking as he watches you and Jake.
His shirt and sweats were long discarded somewhere as he adjusted himself on the bed in a sitting position, his arm extending from behind to hold himself up. He turned his head to the side in a tilt, a smirk never leaving his face.
Your mouth opened, ripping out a soft moan when you felt the cold air hit your now bare chest which was then warmed by a wet sensation wrapping around the hardening bud.
You gasped loudly as your hands immediately grasped Jake’s hair, throwing your head back further into the sheets.
A sound fell from Jake the moment he came into contact with your breast, his tongue gliding over the hardening bud as his other hand fondled with the other.
Your mind became filled with his touch and mouth on you, your back arched as you squealed when he tugged at it between his teeth.
He smirked when he heard you, “J-Jake” You softly moaned, tugging at his hair harder earning a faint strained noise to rupture out of him, your heart hammered against your chest that you were sure he could hear and feel it
“Keep saying my name out of that pretty mouth of yours” Jake hummed as he never once let the slightest attention slip through his finger. He pulled at your hardened nipple in a teasing manner, one harsher than the last before running his tongue over the burning sensation
You melted further into the mattress as everything around you disappeared as you felt like you were lifted into a cloud. “Jakey”You called out the nickname you heard Jay call him and he harshly tugged at your nipple making your squeal
He usually brushed off the nickname as nothing hearing it from others yet, hearing it from you only fueled his farther down a rabbit hole he could never escape from—which he would never want in the first place.
His mouth popped your saliva covered bud out of his mouth only to move down the middle in between the crevice before sinking further down.
Your pants were heavy as he inches closer to the growing wetness in between your legs. Unconsciously squishing your legs together before he could reach in between, his eyes flickered up pleading for permission while his fingers stopped toying with your waistband. “Getting shy on me now?” His tone dipped deeper into a hum making your body shiver
With the lack of response, his mouth tugged to the side and peeled his hands away as he began pulling away. The warmth that hovered over your bottom half was disappearing only to feel the burn inside of you that you quickly wrapped your legs around his shoulder causing a yelp to fall as you stopped him, roughly shaking your head.
His hands gripped at your hips to stabilize himself as your legs hooked around him. The giggle he let out surrounded the room and your ears as you felt his head level with your leaking entrance with a nod.
His fingers glided up the side of your leg, able to feel the warmth of his hand through your pants before he tugged at the waistband again, “Going to have to let me go for a second babe” He teased running his hand up and down your legs causing warmth to rise to your cheeks
“Sorry” You murmured, loosening your legs around him to feel the tips of his finger tug at your pants before slowly pulling them down
Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him, the tenderness and precision he had for simply peering the clothing off of you was warming.
Once it passed your ankles, Jake threw it off and immediately returned to his place right in between your thighs. Adjusting your legs over his shoulder easily exposing the damp undergarment sticking to your entrance. “So pretty” He blabbed, “Wet already”
Jake hummed as his eyes scanned over the wet patch on your panties, “Is this because of me?” He tilted his head to the side, having his shaky hand moved from your hips to swipe across the damp fabric making you squeal at the contact
Your head felt dizzy while your lower body moved with his finger, soaking in the feel, “Well?” He ripped his finger away once you weren’t responding
“Y-yes” You let out a broken cry, “It’s because of you”
Jake smirked to himself in pride, taking an obvious glance towards Jay who only let out a silent scoff at the ego growing in Jake. “Good” He hummed
He stuck out his tongue and took a long stride against your covered core, mixing his saliva with your soaked panties as his fingers teasing your folds just over the material. You jumped from the sudden touches as your hand flung to his hair, biting your lips as you held back the noise daring to fall
While being ignored long enough after being such a good friend, roommate and neighbor, Jay can no longer deny his own problem growing in size hearing your beautiful sounds.
Your eyes screwed shut, whines falling out as you let yourself feel Jake’s tongue protrude into your covered hole in a teasing manner to him sucking harshly on the bundle of nerves when his finger was at the brink of your entrance ready to slip in.
But, at the sudden lifting of your head, your eyes shot wide open to Jay placing your upper body to rest up against his while his arms came up from behind straddling over your bare skin.
The contact of flesh pressed up against your back with the sensation of Jake’s finger tugging your panties to the side to finally see your smeared covered pussy was consuming you whole.
Jay’s hand reached higher until finally landing on your chest, feeling it with his own hand after having to watch Jake do it first. Your body arched off his but he quickly dragged you back with a harsh pull. “Stay with me” He whispered into your ear leaving a shiver to run up your spine
One hand remained fondling with your breast fondling while the other traced up your neck, lifting your fallen head up, craning it to allow him to place his mouth messily on top of yours.
You hummed in satisfaction feeling how he kissed you, his hand holding the juncture between your neck and jaw firmly as he sucked on your bottom lip, the familiar taste of metallic hitting your tongue.
Yet, your mouth dropped in the kiss letting out a quiet gasp as you felt the intrusion of two fingers entering your hole. “Shit” Jake breathlessly pants watching how his two fingers disappeared inside of you
You whipped your head towards the male as he began pumping his fingers in a shallow thrust. Your hand landed to the side, gripping the sheets into a fist only for it to be replaced by Jay intertwining your hands.
With an agape mouth, the moans you’ve been trying to hold back slowly began to spill, feeling how Jake’s finger pushed deeper inside—curling up to feel your gummy walls surrounding him.
“He makes you feel good?” Jay lulled in your ear which you weakly nodded your head at, “Tell him how good he’s making you feel”
Your bottom lip shivered, “S-So good” You managed to get out feeling how he slipped until he was knuckles deep inside of you, “Jake” You called out his name as you threw your head back onto Jay’s shoulder
“So good Jake- Please”
Jake was too fascinated watching his fingers disappear that his name fell deaf on his ears. He watched how his dry fingers were now drenched in your arousal and he couldn’t miss out on anymore. He dipped his head close as he placed the first kiss against your entrance—elighting a soft moan from you.
Jake groaned the moment he tasted you on his taste buds. He pressed his face closer to you, his tongue gliding in between your folds “The absolute sweetest” He mumbled pulling at the bundle of nerves screaming for attention, his finger never faltering in pace
He sucked any essence that was slipping through his fingers, his tongue lathering itself all over you. His body felt so heavy and his mind too light, he lost himself.
Jay smirked, feeling you squirm against his chest, holding his hand tightly with the feel of his hands running over your breasts, softly playing with them as he ever so often twists your nipple, timing it when Jake tugs at your clit, to earn a louder squeak from you.
Your senses were heightened as they focused on their respective actions—perfectly in sync and coordinated with each other without having uttered a single word.
Jay gripped on your mound as he sloppily left kisses at the side of your face whilst Jake could feel you clenching around his finger when he intentionally shoved deeper.
The hot build up in your stomach was daring to snap, the rubbing mouth and hands on your body left your mind reeling.
“Look at what you’re doing to Jake” The mention of the man down below, you looked through heavy eyelids to see Jake’s tongue flickering as he matched his pace with his finger but you could see him softly rutting his hips against the mattress
At the sight, you could feel the fluttering shut of your hole around his fingers as the snap in your stomach erupted a loud moan, while your body shook from the ecstasy that washed over you, ”Shit” Jake breathlessly muttered seeing how along with you coming, there was another soaking stream coming out of you
Jake pulled out his finger quickly before rubbing at your folds roughly, wanting to earn more of your release out of you. You gasp at the stimulation as your body arches and slightly trashes but Jay hooked his arms at your waist keeping you in place.
Your pants were strained and heavy, “J-Ja… Please” You cried out until Jake finally pulled his hand away without dipping one finger into your hole
Gasping loudly, soft whimpers falling from your mouth, allowing your body to rest against Jay. “Now that was…” Jay softly said, pulling his arms away from your heaving body
“Fucking hot” Jake finished his sentence as he admired his soaked covered hand
You turned your head away in embarrassment but Jay quickly coddled you, “Hey, hey, don’t” Placing soft kisses against your head, your tensed body soon relaxed melting into the praise, “That was amazing. You did amazing”
You looked over to Jake who looked from his hand over to you. Your glistening eyes, your mouth hanging slightly open with your chest on full display rising with each shallow breath.
He dipped his hand flat onto the mattress, inching his head closer to your to catch your lips in a chaste chase. Cringing at the taste at first and the smearing of your arousal at the lower half of his face landing on yours. He held your chin, sucking at the lower bottom of your lip in need as you could feel Jay’s hand traveling down your body.
Feeling like you were on the fire, your blood ran cold when you felt the soft fingers inching closer until it reached the warming bundle of nerves and slid the tip of a single finger down the center of your drenched hole. You moaned against Jake’s mouth who gleamed hearing your noises reappearing.
Immediately you trashed when you felt Jay’s finger teasing your entrance, “Sensitive?” His seductive tone wished into your ear, infiltrating your mind with ease
A deep hum rumbled out of his chest as he slipped just the tip of his finger back in. You softly bit at Jake’s bottom lip letting a hiss fall from him.
But as Jay’s finger slipped further in, he messily planted kisses at your head and Jake’s mouth moved from your mouth to the side of your jaw down to your.
Jay ripped his hand away and Jake detached his mouth from your skin, a silent coordinated moment, leaving your body all hot and bothered. Your eyes wearily darted between them.
Jake and Jay noticed your confused gaze as they snuck a look to each other—Both seeing the familiar craze that only shows when they’re in the rink appear in each other now. “I still need to be taken care of” Jay’s voice dropped in tone and you churned your head back catching a glimpse of his gaze turning your insides to mush
“Will you take care of me? Sweetheart” His tone slurred soaking into you
You licked your lips before folding them and letting them go in a shaky breath, “Yeah” Your voice barely above a whisper as you softly nodded
“Atta’ girl” Jay chuckled softly tapping at your side
He shifted positions until you were sprawled back on his bed, looking up to the very neighbors you couldn’t stand their inability to stay quiet but at this moment, they didn’t seem that bad—not in the slightest.
Your heartbeat patterned against your chest harshly, anticipation growing by the second when suddenly a hand landed at your side, tapping at it, “Flip over” Jake’s voice rang through the room and not wanting to test either of the patience unable to know if it would be the end just like that
You gulped down the lump before planting your body up on your elbows, turning around but just when you were going to lay your front to the mattress, a hand stopped you, ”On all fours for us” You heard Jay’s voice from behind and a chill ran up your spine from the lack of sight of either of them
An inevitable shudder of your breath left you as you landed on your hands and knees, a burn resting upon your cheeks at the more revealing position.
Your neighbors remained silent, hearing each breath you took alerting them of the nerves growing in you. Taking a look at each other, unspeakable words understood, Jay switched positions with Jake.
Your eyes looked from the bed below you to see Jake’s warming smiling greeting you, “Hi” He giggled
Noticing how the tension in your body silently lifted, you felt roaming hands threading from your back to your hips until you felt a cup at your core making you gasp.
Shooting a look behind your shoulder harshly tugging at your mouth. Jay pulled at your cheek, baring the sight before him greater to see the soaked covered crevice glistening before his eyes.
He licked his lips in anticipation, tasting the hint of whatever was on it mixing together on his tongue.
Your head was turned back staring at Jake’s toned stomach, the lines dipping with each drop and your eyes fell further down to the bulge now in front of you.
You gulped feeling your hole subconsciously fluttering around nothing, having Jay smirk noticing your pulsating entrance.
Your eyes trained at Jake’s hardened cock making his heart hammer out of his chest that he swore you could hear it. Taking a look behind you to his roommate noticing his actions, he quickly shifted his eyes back onto you, creasing your head.
Right when you were going to look up to Jake, you suddenly felt the tease of your folds being pushed apart by a wet sensation. The obscene sound of the small taps against your dripping pussy made you shiver as Jay’s tip rubbed over your smeared entrance, mixing the already wet arousal everywhere.
“Jay” You whined at his tease and he sent a light slap onto your side
“What’s wrong? Still being impatient?” He hummed, his hand soothing the tingling sensation before slapping the same spot again, “What do you want sweetheart?”
Knowing what Jay was searching for, you harshly tugged at your mouth, “P-please…” Your voice too low to hear anything
“What was that?”
“Please fuck me”
Unable to see him, you were going to peer over your shoulder when the stretch at your entrance caught you off guard. You loudly gasped as you gripped at the sheets, your knuckles turning white from your hold while your body almost fell foward but was stopped by Jake.
Jay slowly eased himself into you, holding himself back from filling you up in one thrust, a hiss leaving his mouth feeling how you clenched around him. “Fuck” He stroked your hips harshly, “So good- Taking me so fucking good” His voice cracked each inch he pulled your walls apart, sinking and relishing in the tight feel around him
“J-Jay” Your voice squeaked as the stretched that quickly began to swift into a pleasurable feel, your mind too preoccupied when you suddenly felt a poke to your cheek
Your gaze shifted to see the raging tip, you looked up to see Jake sneering a cheesy smile towards you, no words were exchanged and yet, you opened your mouth wide as you looked up at him.
His expression twitched as the smile grew, “Who knew” Jake groaned more so for him rather than for you under his breath before grazing his leaking tip on your unblemished lips
Stroking the side of your face, making all around fall to silence. Maintaining eye contact with you, Jake could feel the throbbing at hand. Passing the warmth of your lips, you engulfed the tip in, welcoming the unwavering taste on your tongue.
Jake groaned, feeling the warmth around his cock lighting his whole body in fire.
At a harsh thrust jolting your body forward, you unintentionally gagged around Jake at the sudden harsh push deep inside of you.
Trying to even out your breathing in any way you can, you suddenly felt the drag of Jay’s cock slipping out of you in a slow manner before easing himself back in where he left.
Still not used to the stretched, you whined making the vibration send straight through Jake’s fuzzy mind and down the rushing blood to his twitching self resting heavy in your mouth.
Jay’s thrust started off slow and rhyminc, low groans leaving as he tried to keep himself rational to allow you to somewhat get adjusted to his size.
Your full mouth moved when Jay suddenly sent a harsh thrust forward as his rationality began to fade away, landing you further down Jake’s resting heft, who let out a stuffed grunt at the movements, having to remind himself to not release in your mouth so quickly.
Tears brimmed at your eyes, Jake’s roughed hands, the calloused feel of them rubbed against your cheek, wiping the fallen tears away. “Doin’ so good for us babe… You can do it” His words of encouragement raised your mind higher into the cloud of pleasure
You meekly nodded your head causing the movement to rupture around Jake having him let out a breathless moan when your tongue strung over, you mouth tightly wrapped around, sucking at what you can without choking.
Yet, you froze closing your eyes tightly shut when you felt the drag of emptiness before being filled again, “S-Shit” You managed to hear Jay through your ringing ears
Your shaky freehand managed to grasp the base that wasn’t in your mouth and stroke Jake focusing on your tongue swirling around tasting the faint precum that’s been leaking out.
Jay’s hand rested at your hips, the shallow thrust growing deeper after each one, his once even breathing shifted into a heavier one as he focused on the way you welcomed him in and allowed him to slip out with ease.
“Such a fucking sweetheart, taking me so good” He hissed, “Bet you were waiting for this” His finger pinched at your side making you muffle out a yelp
“C’mon tell us you’ve been waiting for this” Jay’s resting hand semt a slap towards your hips rippling out the sound followed by your huffed whine
“Y-yes” You weakly wailed trying to speak as clear as possible for them to hear
“Look at you trying to talk with your mouth full” Jay sneered seeing how you attempted to take more of Jake in your mouth
Jake’s hand rested at the back of your head helping you meet his weak thrust to push you further down his length. Your eyes tracked upwards to see Jake’s thrown head to the side, hooded eyes staring right at you.
He let out a smile watching how you looked with your lips wrapped around him. He stroked your head softly, “Pretty girl next door couldn’t wait to get fucked by us, isn’t that right babe?” He raised an eyebrow causing you whine
Jay’s pace soon grew faster, his hips slamming against you as his fingers dig at your sides for support that the form of idents could be felt. With how you clenched around his cock, taking more than the last time made his heart soar.
“Such a nasty girl but, you’re our nasty girl, aren’t ya?” Jay darkly chuckled sending a harsh thrust that made you swallow Jake whole
The moment that he hit the back of your, he groaned loudly, his fingers wrinkling as he could feel your throat contracting around the new feel of him deeper. “Fuck” Jake loudly grunted followed by your gagging sounds
The feel of Jay’s tip everything inside of you was a pleasurable feel you never felt before to feeling Jake hitting the back of your throat, your senses heightened as your mind faded into a fog of just your two neighbors.
“J-Ja-“ Your muffled voice was barely audible causing each of them to let out a laugh, the jolts of your body kept moving forward from Jay’s cock hitting your insides, molding you just for him
Jake softly drew himself back from your mouth, a wash of breath air filling your lungs making you suck in the deep breath before he bucked his hips back in and out, filling your mouth again of him, “You’re taking him so good, look at you”
You clamped around Jay’slength, “Fuck, you like getting praised?” He commented in a deep groan, “Like knowing you’re being such a good girl for us?”
You weakly nodded your head, unable to respond but wanting to show some type of response and that fueled Jay’s heart—seeing your efforts to get something out for him. He rubbed his hand over your lower back and hips, his touch leaving fire trails on your skin the moment of contact.
Spit accumulated at the side of your mouth, dripping down in its wake down your chin as Jake softly slammed his hips, his cock going back down your throat as your hands grabbed whatever it could to keep you hoisted up.
Your gargle sounds filled the room with the faint sounds of Jay meeting you and the inevitable moans falling from your stuffed mouth.
Jay snapped his hips faster, his eyes trained on how all of him disappeared inside of you perfectly as Jake slowly chased after your mouth when he pulled away, only for you to grasp on him and lick his hard on from the base all the way to the top—sucking whatever he was giving you.
You could feel how Jay’s thrust was growing frantic and irregular, the muffled moans leaving your mouth only grew louder the harder he slammed his hips against yours which only fueled their growing desire further.
“Come all over him” Jake whispered, encouraging you and somehow you managed to pick it up through the noises bouncing off the wall and your mind was set
Jake’s cock was throbbing in your throat, the closing and opening of each sound you released mixed with a gagging noise made him draw closer to tie daring to snap in his stomach.
He rutted his hips faster feeling the familiar coil build up in his stomach. “You’ll take it right? What I give you, right babe?” Jake’s voice squeaked higher as his stomach began to tighten
Jay’s hand thread over your back to your waist, wrapping his arm around as he slammed his hips harder against yours, his fingers pressed over your stomach and pushed deep into it, “Nasty girl is going to take what we give her” He grumbled it as a statement rather than a question and you knew that you wouldn't have to try—you would
Jake’s groans turned into small pants as he stilled his hips and let out a gruntled whine as the warm liquid filled your mouth and you jerked, feeling how it slicked past your throat. “So good-So fucking good”
Yet, Jay continued to ram his hips causing your mouth to vibrate around Jake having him hiss at the simulation still dragging out through his high, “H-Hurry up Jay” Jake sneered as he tried to pull away from your mouth, the shaking of his body worsening if he stays any longer
Yet, he stopped when you weakly wrapped your hand around his shaft that he could only pull away halfway. You pumped what wasn’t in your mouth, your tongue licking his tip clean seeking in the air that you could before taking a big gulp to get rid of the remnants of Jake’s cum in your mouth.
Your mouth fell open as the obscene sounds lolled off your tongue with Jay’s cock filling your insides with each trust and through it all, Jake caught a glimpse of the inside of your cleaned mouth—with the exception of a few white strings lingering behind.
“F-Fuck” His voice cracked when you sucked his tip cleaned regardless of his softening cock at hand, “P-please” Jake pleaded when you took him back in your slacked mouths
Muffled through the sounds, Jay’s harsh thrust after another soon came to a stop. “S-Sweet girl, such a good damn girl” One harsh thrust sent before another as he bottomed himself forcing himself as deep as humanly possible as he marked up your once velvet walls full of him in a loud groan—bliss taking over.
You moaned at the sudden warm fillment flowing in your inside as you let go of Jake with a loud pop, landing face first—your head on the mattress while your body shivered from Jay filling you up.
Your hands weakly crumbled the sheets beneath you as pitiful whines rumbled out of your chest.
Jay remained inside of you, stuffing you full of him as his calloused bruised hands roaming all around your back, “Did so good. So fucking proud of you-Took the both of us too damn good” His voice was warm that you could feel it in your body but wasn’t able to properly comprehend in your mind
“Sweetheart?” He softly called out and you turned your head to the to side catching a glimpse of the dismantled Jay behind you
The few hairs stuck to his forehead, the bruised face glistening in sweat as it trickled down his neck and past his collarbone to stop at his built chest.
You fluttered around Jay making his eyes whip to where he and you were still attached. He watched the few remnants of his release inside of you managed to escape where it could, his heart raced at the scene.
The feel of drag from his cock out of you made you whine at the sudden emptiness and stretch leaving you as Jay watched at how your hole flattered around nothing before the few spurts of his cum leaked out, his eyes widened realizing that it couldn’t stop at just that—after just one mere round.
Jake shushed your heaving self, his hand carefully stroked your head. Turning your head, you see Jake’s warm smile, his red cut cheek still catching your gaze and his side bruised lip.
Your eyes flickered closed as he dipped down capturing your mouth with his and his face slightly scrunched at the faint taste of him on your lips.
You melted in the plush of his lips meeting yours but you gasped when you felt fingers glide across your messy folds, gathering whatever was smeared around it and pushing it back inside of your entrance—where it’s meant to be, “Sticky” Jay whispered in a daze like haze as he watched his fingers disappear inside of you
Jake gave one longer peck as he softly gripped your face, a hum in his chest erupting out before he pulled away. “Can you go one more?” He asked past his swollen lips
Your heart was hammering out of your chest, your body was trying to catch up from the previous orgasms.
And yet, you nodded your head causing a bloom over his chest before he excitedly captured your lips in a quick peck. “So good for me-For us. Promise it’ll feel good. Just let us take care of you” Jake mumbled before giving a smile and letting go of your face to shoot a harsh glare towards Jay—different from how he looked at you
His roommate didn’t flinch for a second, already having been looking at him with a smirk resting on his face. Jay curled his fingers inside of you causing you to hiss loudly because even if he had his time—he’d enjoy it if you were still acknowledging him.
“You heard him sweetheart, let us take care of you” Jay planted a wet kiss on your bare back, his eyes falling into a hooded look that made your tired insides twist
Your body was turned over, your back meeting the soft mattress and a satisfied hum slipped past your lips at the stern support lifting your body.
Through your half-lidded eyes, you looked up to see Jay and Jake looking at you, a glistening look in each of their eyes that screamed something ineligible to you—fueled by a desire to devour you whole.
“Just focus on us. No need to think of anything else in that pretty head of yours”
✮⋆˙
Your face scrunched hearing the loud banging rupturing in the distance. Shifting in the sheets, you buried your head deeper into the warmth that engulfed you, believing if you ignored it long enough then it'll seize to exist.
When your eyes and mind began to fade back into slumber, the warmth at your side disappeared with the exception of a feathering touch ghosting your head with an inaudible whisper before disappearing.
Dazedly opening your eyes adjusting to the sunlight peeking inside, you looked next to you, noticing the once occupied space now empty with a dip in the mattress of who once laid there.
Your sore body is now catching up to your mind when you try to move with the addition of a weight holding you down and forcing you closer to the body behind you as the head nuzzles deeply into your back, holding you close.
You looked down to see the bruised red skin resting at the knuckles, the faint scratches on them wrapped around your waist.
However, at the sound of the door carefully opening, you lifted your head up to Jake’s loose clothing hanging onto his body, his disheveled messy hair, and his heavy eyes shining in the sunlight.
“Who was at the door?” Your voice low and strained as you rubbed your eyes, trying to slip out of Jay’s bear like hug at your waist who was yet to wake up
Jake smirked, closing the bedroom door behind him just to lean up against it with a sigh before pushing himself off, his steps slow and nearing until his head was leveled with yours.
Your breath hitched in your throat as he placed his finger over his tugging upwards lips.
The hands wrapped at your waist threaded higher nearing your chest in a slower manner, Jay rested his head onto your shoulder. Jake sank to his knees, his hands moving down to your knees before having pry them open.
“Neighbor. Told us to keep the noise down next time”
——
a special dedication and tag to @hearts4hee, for you hon<3
pairing: stranger!nishimura riki x fem!reader
synopsis: you meet him on a quiet night — a stranger with sharp eyes and a colder edge, nothing like anyone in your sleepy suburb. he won’t talk, barely looks at you, but something about him lingers. maybe you’re just curious. or maybe you’ve seen him before.
featuring: ni-ki & jake of enhypen
genre: childhood friends to lovers, a sprinkle of angst, smut, skinship, kissing, etc.
warnings: smut (18+), difficult relationships with parents, love at first sight lowk, vulnerability, themes of implied watching (not rlly stalking) but it isn't graphic, riki smokes cigs, uhhh i think that's it?? lowercase intended heh
playlist: anxiety by doechii, clarity by zedd & sacrifice by enhypen
(smut warnings under cut)
wc: 9.120k
a/n: this is way longer than i expected but it came to me in a dream... enjoy! also i'm gonna start a perm taglist! comment on any of my fics or send an ask to be added! <3
smut content: riki's PACKING, they cum in their pants lol, dry humping, deepthroating kinda, backshots LMAO, missionary, dom!riki x sub!reader, degradation & praise kinks, creampie, like SO MUCH cum... n e ways! fluffy aftercare, unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap), tit fucking, oral (m. receiving), choking, everything is consensual, riki and reader are both so down bad for each other... lmk if i missed anything :3
(not proofread)
-ˏˋ⋆ 7 months ago ⋆ˊˎ-
it was raining the day you first felt it — that creeping sensation at the back of your neck, like invisible fingers brushing against your skin.
not a storm, not anything dramatic. just that kind of soft, cold drizzle that seeped into your clothes and made the world feel like it was holding its breath. gray sky melted into gray pavement, the horizon smeared like a half-finished painting. you were standing under the chipped awning of the old bakery on the corner, the scent of yeast and sugar mixing with the rain, waiting for your usual thursday pastry that was always slightly overbaked but comfortingly warm.
you remember scrolling through your phone, aimlessly, as your friend, jake, rambled beside you about something he saw on tv. you weren't listening. you were too aware of the feeling — that hum beneath your skin. subtle but unshakable.
“there’s someone watching me,” you’d said earlier that morning, trying to brush it off with a laugh as you stirred milk into your coffee. “it’s my anxiety.” jake didn’t look up from his phone. “or maybe you’re watching yourself spiral.”
you’d rolled your eyes. maybe he was right. midterms were looming, you hadn’t slept in days, and your brain felt like it was being slowly pulled apart by rubber bands. but still. the feeling didn’t go away.
it got worse.
you’d been fidgeting, switching the weight on your feet, chewing the inside of your cheek. and then, like something calling your name without a sound, your eyes had drifted across the street.
that’s when you saw him.
a boy. or maybe a man — it was hard to tell, the rain blurred everything. tall, impossibly still, wearing a black hoodie that clung to his shoulders. he wasn’t under any kind of shelter. he stood alone, soaked to the bone, his face half-hidden by the hood, his gaze fixed. not on the road. not on the buildings. but on you.
you stared. you didn’t recognize him. not really. and yet something deep in your chest stirred like a memory. like a name you almost remembered. like a dream you’d had once and forgotten by morning.
you glanced down for a second — a message lighting up your screen.
when you looked up, he was gone.
no footsteps. no splash. just… gone.
you never told jake. what would you say? you didn’t even know what you’d seen. maybe nothing at all.
maybe your anxiety really was watching you. maybe it had grown arms and legs and a face hidden under a rain-soaked hood. maybe it had always been there, just waiting for the right day to show itself.
either way, it started then.
and it never really stopped.
-ˏˋ⋆ present day ⋆ˊˎ-
the hallway is too quiet for a friday night.
you shuffle down the corridor with a tied-up trash bag swinging limply at your side, socks stuffed in your duck slippers, slapping against the cool tile floor. the overhead light flickers once, buzzing faintly. classic.
you reach the stairwell, already bracing yourself for the sharp chill of the outside air, when you stop short.
he’s there.
leaning against the railing of the third-floor landing, hoodie pulled up over his head, cigarette dangling between his fingers — even though this is strictly a no-smoking building. he doesn’t flinch when you turn the corner. just keeps staring out at the dim skyline, face barely visible under the shadow of his hood.
you slow down, blinking.
he’s not familiar — not really. you pride yourself on knowing every face in this sleepy apartment complex, whether through polite nods in the mailroom or awkward elevator silences. but him? nothing. no name. no room number. just angles and silence.
and yet… something about him rings in your head like a half-forgotten dream.
his profile is soft, almost too pretty to be real. sharp jaw, dark lashes, bangs dipping into his eyes. he looks like he doesn’t belong here — like someone plucked him out of a bigger story and dropped him into yours by mistake.
"hey," you offer, voice casual, just above a whisper. "you new here?"
he doesn’t look at you. doesn’t answer.
awkward.
you shift the trash bag in your hands, trying again. “i live on the second floor. don’t think i’ve seen you around before.”
still nothing. just a small exhale of smoke that curls into the cold night air.
rude, you think. but not in a mean way. more like… distant. careful.
you lean against the opposite railing, letting the silence stretch for a few seconds.
"you look familiar," you say, eyes narrowing. "have we met before?"
this time, his gaze flickers. not quite to you — just past you. a twitch of recognition, maybe. or annoyance.
you can't tell.
but your brain is racing. you know him. you must. maybe in passing. maybe in a memory. maybe you’ve just seen him out here before, on the edge of your vision, existing quietly in the corners of your routine. maybe your subconscious noticed him long before you did.
he stubs out the cigarette and walks past you without a word.
you don’t move. you just watch him disappear down the hall, hoodie covered by a black jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets.
"okay then," you murmur to yourself, staring after him. and you can’t help it — the way your eyes linger on the spot he stood, heart ticking a little faster.
there’s something about him.
you just don’t know what. yet.
───
it's raining the next time you see him.
you’re standing under the overhang by the front entrance, fumbling with your umbrella, when the door swings open behind you. you glance back — and it’s him. again.
hoodie. same brown timberlands. same unreadable expression.
you swear he pauses when he sees you, just a fraction of a second. but maybe that’s in your head.
"you smoke a lot for someone living in a no-smoking building," you say without thinking, half a joke.
he doesn’t laugh. but his lips twitch, barely, like maybe he almost did.
he steps out into the rain without an umbrella.
"hey!" you call, surprised. "you're seriously just gonna walk in that?"
he doesn't stop. doesn't answer. but this time, he does glance back at you over his shoulder. eyes dark. thoughtful. like he’s trying to decide something.
“i’ve seen you before,” you say — louder, more certain now. “i just don’t remember where.”
his mouth parts, like he might say something. but then he turns and keeps walking, rain soaking into the fabric of his hoodie, blending him into the gray of the street.
and you're left standing there, umbrella unopened, heart kicking strangely against your ribs.
───
it’s quiet in the laundry room — too quiet. the kind of quiet that settles in your chest and presses down, like you’re underwater. the overhead light flickers occasionally, buzzing in protest, but no one’s bothered to fix it. you wouldn’t usually be here this late, but your sheets were stained and the smell was driving you insane. so here you are, half-past midnight, leaning against a rickety folding table, waiting.
your phone barely gets signal this far in the basement, and the wi-fi’s always spotty. it’s just you, the low groan of the washer, and your own thoughts trying to make conversation.
until the door creaks open.
you don’t jump, but your spine straightens on instinct. you don’t have to look up to know it’s him — the presence is immediate, unmistakable. that stillness in the air that follows him like a shadow. you finally glance up, and there he is. same black hoodie. same too-quiet footsteps. same face that looks like it doesn’t belong here. like it was carved into something older than this tiny suburban building.
he doesn’t say a word. just drops a bag on the floor and begins sorting laundry like it’s the most normal thing in the world. like you haven’t already seen him twice this week, always at night, always alone, always watching without watching.
“seriously?” you say, trying to keep your voice light. “do you just hang out in weird corners of this complex to freak people out?”
nothing.
he lifts a pair of dark jeans, shakes them out. you watch his fingers. they're pale. long. too clean for someone who lives in this building. you’ve lived here your whole life and never seen him before last week — and yet...
he feels familiar.
“okay,” you continue, stepping off the table now. the room feels colder suddenly. “do you live here? or are you like... a freak with laundry privileges?”
still nothing. you laugh under your breath, but it sounds too loud in the silence. your heartbeat starts to climb your throat.
then he says it. quiet. low.
“you used to wait outside the bakery every thursday. same dark purple coat. hair in a slick bun. you never looked both ways when you crossed the street.”
the words stop you cold.
“what?” you ask, your voice barely audible.
he still doesn’t look at you. he presses a button on the washer. it whirs to life.
“i remember,” he says simply.
and then he walks out.
no explanation. no glance back. just leaves you standing there, spine prickling, air thick with something you can’t name.
you don’t move for a long time. the washer keeps spinning. and somewhere in the back of your mind, a door creaks open — something old, something buried. you know that voice. you know it.
but from where?
and why now?
───
you see him again the next week.
it’s late. everything always is these days. late nights, late thoughts, late feelings that come crawling out of places you’ve spent years trying to bury.
he’s there again by the mailboxes, half-shrouded in the dim glow of the overhead light. same hoodie, same stillness. like he’s always belonged to the dark. like the world moves around him, but never through him.
you don’t say anything this time. just glance at him, let your eyes linger a little too long. the silence stretches like fog between you, thick and almost heavy.
when you get back to your apartment, you sit on the floor of your room, knees to your chest, staring at nothing. trying to remember.
because it’s not just déjà vu. it’s more insistent than that. it’s something sharper. something that presses at the edges of your mind like a dull knife.
you know him.
or—at least, you’ve seen him before. not in this life maybe, but in another version of it. in a hallway, maybe. in a photograph. in a moment you never thought would matter until it does.
you try to pull it apart, memory by memory. but your brain is tired and tangled, the way it always is when you think too hard about the past. especially your own.
your mom used to say you were dramatic. that you let small things become monsters under the bed. “don’t be so sensitive,” she’d snap, when you cried over things she didn’t understand. “you make everything so hard for yourself.”
your dad never said much at all.
they were loud in the wrong ways. silent in the ones that mattered. and you learned early how to turn your feelings into puzzles with missing pieces — complex enough to keep you distracted, but unsolvable enough to stop you from ever really facing them.
and yet, riki… there’s something about him that pulls at those missing pieces. like maybe he was one of them. like maybe he slipped into your life through a crack in the wall and waited, patiently, for you to notice.
was he from your old school? a kid from your neighborhood? someone you passed in a crowd once and never forgot, even if you didn’t realize it?
you hate not knowing. hate how it makes you feel like a child again — helpless and unsettled. desperate for answers no one’s willing to give.
maybe that’s what this really is. not fear. not obsession. just the ache of a memory that refuses to resurface.
he’s a question mark in human form. and you’ve never been good with uncertainty.
you don’t see him again for days.
which should be a relief. it should give you space to think, to forget. but it doesn’t. it just makes everything louder. the silence, the questions, the feeling in your gut that something is watching you — or waiting.
your sleep turns thin and restless. shadows stretch too long across your walls. you start leaving your bedroom light on. just in case.
one night, you wake up at 3:12 a.m., heart racing for no reason at all. it takes a second to realize what pulled you out of sleep — a sound. something light. deliberate.
a knock?
you hold your breath. wait. nothing.
you get up anyway.
there’s no one at the door. of course not. but something catches your eye as you start to turn back — something lying just at the edge of your doormat. small. folded. a piece of paper.
you hesitate, then pick it up. it’s blank on the outside. no name. no writing. nothing.
you open it slowly.
inside, in rushed, almost messy handwriting, are six words:
“do you really not remember me?”
your throat goes tight. your first instinct is to look around, scan the hallway, check the peephole twice. there’s no one.
no sound.
just that question burning in your hands.
do you really not remember me?
your fingers shake a little as you fold it back up. your brain is moving too fast and not fast enough at the same time. and that feeling — the one that’s been gnawing at you for days — it blooms in your chest like a scream that never makes it out.
because now it’s real. now you know you aren’t imagining it. the familiarity, the tension, the way your spine goes rigid every time you see him —
he knows you.
he’s known you.
and maybe you did know him once, too. maybe you still do, buried under everything you’ve forgotten on purpose.
you think about the look in his eyes that first night. the way he never said a word. the stillness of him.
you think of the hallway. the sound that woke you. the note.
you think of how you told your friend the other day, half-laughing, half-serious: “there’s someone watching me, it’s my anxiety.”
but what if it’s more than that?
what if it’s not just in your head?
what if it’s him?
───
it hits you in the middle of folding laundry.
something about the way your fingers move. something about the light slanting in through the kitchen window. warm, but not comforting. and all at once, you’re not in your apartment anymore.
you’re in a house. someone else’s. maybe your own. there’s music playing — muffled through a closed door. a cheap stereo with tinny speakers. old j-pop, the kind that loops endlessly on cassettes. the wallpaper is peeling in one corner.
and then—
a voice. soft. younger. yours.
"why do you always hide when they come home?"
someone's sitting in the hallway. knees pulled to their chest. head down. shadows in the space between them like they’re both in different dimensions.
and then he looks up.
not the man in the stairwell. not riki, not yet. just a boy. sharp eyes, hollow cheeks, hair too long in front. there’s a cut on his lip. fading purple under his eye.
“because it’s safer,” he says.
the air warps around that line, like heat off asphalt. she wants to reach for him, wants to say something back, but the memory curls tighter around her, swallowing the end of it before she can hold on.
then it’s gone.
just like that.
you blink down at the pile of laundry in your lap, hands gone still.
your chest feels tight. throat aching, like you swallowed something heavy. the apartment feels colder than it should. that voice — his voice — still rings somewhere in your bones.
because you’ve heard it before. not recently. years ago.
and suddenly you’re thinking about your father’s anger. how he used to break things before he yelled. how sometimes he didn’t yell at all. how the silence always scared you more. how you stopped inviting friends over after age ten. how there was one boy you let in. once.
his name—
you press the heel of your palm to her forehead, hard, like you can shake it loose.
it won’t come. not yet.
but the shape of it is there, curling at the edges of a memory like smoke. and the boy with the bruised mouth and quiet eyes — he's not a stranger.
not even close.
later that night, you can't sleep.
there's a weight on your chest that won’t lift no matter how you shift under the sheets. it’s not insomnia — it’s memory. something clawing at the back of your skull, begging to be seen.
so you get up.
the air in the apartment is too still. even the hum of the fridge feels distant. you don't bother with the lights. just moving barefoot and slow, like any noise might scare the truth away.
the closet in the hallway creaks when you open it. you kneel. pushing past shoeboxes, tangled cords, the mess of forgotten things. until your hand hits the one you’re looking for.
a red box. scuffed corners. cheap velvet peeled at the edges. inside: scraps of a childhood. yours.
old keychains, broken friendship bracelets, polaroids faded to brown. concert tickets. a snow globe from sapporo. and then—
a photograph.
creased down the center. color bleeding with age. a summer day, maybe. you’re younger. seven or eight. awkward teeth, sunburnt nose, some awful haircut her mother swore looked cute. and beside you —
a boy.
not smiling. just… there. close, but not touching. eyes dark and watchful even then.
and it’s him.
riki.
only it wasn’t his name back then, was it? he went by ni-ki.
your breath catches. you sit back on your heels, heart thudding in your ears.
how could you forget? they lived on the same street. just four houses down. his mom used to walk him to school until she didn’t anymore. and then he stopped coming altogether.
after that, he vanished. until now.
until the stairwell. until the way he didn’t speak but looked at her like he knew everything.
you swallow the sick twist in your stomach. the sudden, sharp cold shivering down your spine.
why was he back?
and why you?
you leave the photo on the kitchen island.
maybe it’s careless, maybe even stupid, but you tell yourself it’ll make more sense in the morning. you’ll wake up, look at it with clearer eyes, and it won’t feel like your chest is caving in. besides, you live alone. and it’s just a photo.
just a photo.
you drag yourself to the couch, the blanket scratchy against your legs, exhaustion curling into your limbs like smoke. you fall asleep fast — but it’s the wrong kind of sleep. thick, dreamless, heavy with something you can’t name. a noise pulls at you. a door. or a voice. or your own heart cracking open.
you wake up just as the first light creeps through the windows. your mouth is dry. your tongue tastes like copper.
something is off.
you walk into the kitchen, still half in a fog—and stop.
the photo is gone.
you freeze, staring at the empty spot where it had been, your thoughts moving too fast and too slow all at once. the red box is still there. untouched. the lid sitting open like a mouth waiting to swallow more. you check the floor. under the fridge. between papers. nothing.
no one could’ve taken it.
the door was locked. the windows haven’t budged. you were here. you were alone.
a chill slides down your spine, sharp and crawling. you think of him again. the way he looked at you in the stairwell. not confused. not curious.
just watching.
like he already knew what you would find.
your breath catches. you don’t even realize you’ve backed up until your shoulder hits the wall.
you don’t understand what’s happening, but something is— and it’s closing in.
the silence hums in your ears. the wind slips against the glass like breath. and then you see it.
something on the kitchen table.
not the photo. but something folded.
small. white. placed exactly where the photo had been.
your name is written on the front.
in handwriting you almost recognize.
you stare at the folded paper like it might burn through the table. your name, in soft, slanted letters—almost familiar, like a half-remembered dream. the kind you wake up from with your chest tight and eyes wet, but can’t explain to anyone without sounding insane.
your fingers hesitate.
you don’t want to touch it. you want to burn it. you want to leave the apartment and never come back.
but your hand moves anyway, like it isn’t yours. like you’re being pulled by something older than memory.
the paper is heavier than it looks. the kind of paper someone saves. the kind that lives in boxes under beds, waiting to be found.
you unfold it slowly. deliberately.
the first line makes your stomach drop:
“you used to laugh with your whole face.”
your throat tightens. your vision blurs at the edges. you keep reading.
“i remember when you were afraid of thunderstorms. you’d hide under the table with that stuffed bear. the one with the missing eye.”
you sink into the nearest chair. it creaks beneath you. your heartbeat pounds in your ears like thunder.
how does he know that?
no one remembers that.
not even your mother—too busy fighting shadows of men who never stayed long enough to learn your name.
you blink hard, trying to push away the sting in your eyes. your hand shakes as you reach the last line:
“it’s okay if you don’t remember me. i remember you.”
the note isn’t signed.
but you already know who it’s from.
and you’re not sure if that makes it better… or so much worse.
you find yourself standing at the corner of the street, unsure of where to go or how to breathe. the note is heavy in your hand, the words on it are still too real. still too impossible to wrap your mind around.
but you can’t ignore it anymore. you’ve been running from something, running from the truth, but it’s all catching up with you. and it starts with one thing—one person—who might just hold the answers.
you text jake. i need to talk to you.
he replies almost immediately: come over. i’ll make coffee.
you don’t hesitate. your body moves before your brain can catch up.
jake’s apartment smells like coffee, like books, and like something homey you can’t quite place. you’ve always liked it here—quiet, safe, with jake’s easy smile and the way he always listens like he doesn’t have a million things on his plate.
but today, when he opens the door, his smile falters. his eyes linger on the note in your hand before he invites you in.
“what’s going on?” he asks, his voice soft. “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“worse,” you murmur, sitting down at the kitchen table. “riki. the guy from my apartment building. the one i’ve been thinking about.”
jake’s face changes. his usual calm demeanor cracks for a split second, but it’s enough. enough to make you sit up straighter, enough to make your heart skip a beat.
“what do you mean, the guy you’ve been thinking about?” he asks carefully. “y/n, you’ve been telling me you’ve never met him before. he’s just some weird guy who shows up at random times. are you sure you’re okay?”
you hesitate. the note is still in your hand. you want to show it to him, but something holds you back. you can’t explain this to him without sounding insane.
“he knows things, jake. about me. about my childhood. stuff no one would know.” you pause, swallowing hard. “it’s like he’s been... watching me.”
the silence in the room thickens. jake stands still, his hands gripping the edge of the table. you can feel his mind working through it, piecing things together. finally, he exhales sharply.
“you know who he is, don’t you?” jake’s voice cracks just a little, and you hate that you can hear it.
“he’s riki,” you whisper. “i know it.”
jake looks like he’s just seen a ghost too. but it’s worse than that. it’s betrayal, old wounds you never knew were still there.
“how do you know him?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
jake runs a hand through his hair, his face tight with something you can’t read. "riki... he was my best friend back home. we were inseparable when we were kids, after he randomly showed up one day. before everything in his home town happened. before he disappeared from there."
you lean forward, your heart racing. "why did he disappear?"
jake looks away, his eyes shadowed with memories. "riki got tangled up in some bad stuff, y/n. things that don’t go away, things that ruin people. he got in with the wrong crowd—gangs, debts, all kinds of shit. he disappeared from there too and... no one ever really knew what happened. but the rumors started. they said he ran. he left everything behind."
your throat tightens. “but... he didn’t.”
jake’s gaze is heavy, dark. “no. he didn’t. he’s been trying to stay hidden ever since. but some ghosts don’t stay buried, y/n.”
your chest tightens. you’ve been living in the shadow of something you can’t even remember fully. and now it’s back.
───
later that night, you find yourself standing in front of riki’s door, your heart hammering in your chest. you knock once, twice, and wait.
the door opens slowly, and riki stands there, eyes wide, almost guilty. he looks different in the light, darker somehow, worn and tired. but the same fire is still there. it’s still riki.
“you know, don’t you?” he says, his voice tight, like he’s holding something back.
you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “you disappeared. you ran. kept running. and i don’t understand why.”
riki’s eyes flicker with something—pain, maybe. “it’s not that simple. there’s things you don’t know, things i can’t tell you.”
you step closer, ignoring the hesitation in your chest. “i need to know, riki. everything. i need you to tell me.”
his jaw clenches. but then he opens the door wider, his shoulders slumping as he gestures for you to come inside.
you step into his dimly lit apartment, your heart racing. the room feels charged with something unspoken, like the air is holding its breath.
“i didn’t want you to get involved in all of this,” riki says, his voice raw. “but now that you know, i can’t just leave you hanging.”
you take a step forward, your hand trembling as you reach for him, the tension between you unbearable. “you’re not alone in this anymore, riki. i’m here.”
he looks at you, eyes haunted, like he’s trying to decide if he can trust you. then, without warning, his lips crash against yours.
you freeze for a second, the intensity of it taking you by surprise. but then your body reacts, pulling him closer, kissing him back with everything you’ve been holding in. it’s messy, desperate, like neither of you knows what’s happening but can’t stop it.
his hands are everywhere—on your waist, your back, your neck—like he’s trying to memorize you, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.
your heart is racing, your body pressed against his, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s on fire.
riki pulls back, his breathing shallow, his forehead resting against yours. the tension between you two is still there, but it's different now — softer, like a thread connecting you in a way neither of you can fully explain.
"y/n," he says, his voice low but intense, trembling slightly. "there are things i never wanted to tell you, things i couldn't bear to say. i thought it would be easier to push you away, to make you hate me before you found out... but i can't do it anymore. i can't keep lying to myself."
you step back a little, your chest tightening as you watch him. his eyes are full of so many emotions—regret, pain, love—but it’s the last one that makes your heart ache with something you didn’t expect.
"i’ve been in this dark place for so long, y/n. i never thought i could get out of it. i pushed everyone away, especially you, because i knew if i let you in, you’d see the mess i am... but you’re the only one who’s ever mattered. i’ve always known it, even when i was too afraid to admit it. i love you."
his words hang in the air, raw and vulnerable. and you feel something inside of you break wide open—something you’ve been trying so hard to protect, trying to hide.
“i’ve always loved you,” riki continues, his voice softer now, almost like he’s confessing a secret that’s been buried for too long. “even when i tried to run from it, even when i tried to push you away... you were always the one. always.”
you can barely find your voice, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his words. "riki, i—"
but he shakes his head, cutting you off gently. "no, listen. i know i’ve hurt you. i know i’ve been distant, but everything i did... i did it because i was scared. scared of losing you. scared of what you’d think of me if you knew everything. but i can’t hide anymore. not from you. i’ve never stopped loving you. not even for a second.”
tears sting the back of your eyes, but you blink them away, letting his confession settle inside you. your heart feels too full, too full of emotions you don’t know how to contain. you take a deep breath, your voice trembling when you finally speak.
“i’m not going anywhere, riki,” you whisper, the words catching in your throat. “i never was. i don’t care about the past... i don’t care about what happened before. i care about you. i’ve always cared about you.”
for a moment, neither of you moves. the world feels so quiet, like everything has stopped, and it’s just the two of you in this space—this moment where everything you’ve both been hiding finally comes to light.
riki steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face, his thumbs brushing over your skin. his eyes are soft now, almost like he’s memorizing every detail of you, like he never wants to forget this moment.
“can i kiss you again?” he asks, his voice so soft, so unsure. it’s like he’s asking for permission, like he’s afraid of making the wrong move.
you nod, your breath catching in your throat. “please,” you whisper.
and then, his lips are on yours, gentle but urgent, like everything he’s held inside of him is pouring into this kiss. his hands slide to your back, pulling you closer, and you melt into him. you kiss him back with everything you’ve been holding onto, everything you’ve been feeling but never knew how to say.
when you pull back, both of you breathless, riki presses his forehead to yours, his hands resting gently on your hips. his eyes are full of that same tenderness, that same love that’s been there all along.
“i love you, y/n,” he whispers again, this time with more certainty, more peace. “and i always will. no matter what.”
and in that moment, you know, without a doubt, that everything—every question, every fear, every hesitation—has been worth it. because now, in this space, with him, everything feels right.
“i love you too, riki,” you say softly, the words more sure now. “i always will.”
and the kiss that follows is more than just passion—it’s a promise.
he breaks the kiss and leads you to his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed. he pulls you onto his lap and crashes his lips against yours once again.
but this kiss, it’s different than the others.
it’s hot. fiery. desperate.
his tongue bullies its way into your mouth, fighting for dominance which you happily give him. as you continue making out, he becomes increasingly handsy. they fly from your jaw, to your shoulder blades, sliding down to rest on your ass. he grips your clothed flesh with desire.
and that's when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness settled between his legs. pressed against your burning hot core.
you gasped into his lips and he swallowed it up eagerly.
he rolled your hips down onto his crotch, seeking friction to ease his hard on. groaning into the kiss, he broke it, tilting his head back.
you carefully observed how his adam’s apple bobbed each time he swallowed, your self control fading into nothing. reaching out to grab his neck, you lightly apply pressure as you leave sloppy, wet kisses all over his jaw. your eyes drop to his collarbones, noticing his hoodie getting in the way.
you shift in his lap, knees sinking further into his bed as your hands find his shoulders for balance. riki looks up at you, eyes half-lidded, lips parted slightly like he’s caught between breath and want. his hoodie is bunched up from where your fingers had tugged at the hem earlier, and when you reach for it again, he doesn’t stop you.
you pull it over his head slowly, your fingers grazing warm skin as the fabric slides up and off. beneath it, he’s wearing a black tank top that clings to him in all the right places—soft cotton stretched over lean muscle, tracing the shape of his chest and the dip of his waist.
his collarbones catch the low light of the room, sharp and defined, leading down to the elegant curve of his neck. you can see the slight rise and fall of it as he swallows, your gaze drifting lower to the sculpted line of his biceps, muscles flexing subtly under your weight, like he’s holding back.
he looks devastating like this—relaxed and bare in a way that feels forbidden, like you’re seeing something no one else is allowed to.
"you’re staring," he says quietly, a flicker of amusement in his voice, but there's a softness to it too, like he doesn’t mind being seen this way. like he wants you to look.
you smile, brushing your fingers across his shoulder, down his arm, feeling the strength beneath the surface. "can you blame me?"
he laughs under his breath, hands settling at your hips, warm and steady. "not really."
you lean in closer, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, right where it meets his collarbone. he shivers under your touch, and you feel it in your core—how easy it is to fall into him, how right it feels to be here like this.
you push him further on his bed, his back hitting the soft comforter, hands never leaving your hips.
he captures your lips once again in a kiss that's delicate, like he’s trying to process everything but he can’t. are you really here with him right now? his childhood best friend who he forced himself to cut contact with—but then again, did he ever really cut contact with you? he had to make sure you were okay one way or another, so he watched from the shadows. even if it meant sacrificing his greatest love. you.
as if you could sense the gears overheating in his brain, you pull away from him and stare into his familiar brown eyes. he pouts and you see a glimpse of ni-ki. the scared, eight year old who you’d give up anything to protect.
he cradles your face like you’re made of glass and whispers, “are you sure you want this, angel? because once i start… i don’t think i’ll be able to stop.”
you nod your head, but that doesn’t seem to be enough for him, “words, baby. i need words, hmm?” you bite back a flustered smile, “yeah ni-ki, i want this. you.”
he grins hearing his childhood name fall out of your soft, sweet lips and picks you up off his lap so he can rest with his back against the headboard.
settling back on his thighs, and becoming increasingly impatient, you roll your hips against his, surprising him.
he lets out a breathy moan, urging you to continue. you want to hear each of his pretty sounds.
pressing your clothed clit into the tip of his dick, he closes his eyes, biting his lip. you feel him pulsing beneath you, the thin layer of his sweats not doing much to hide his arousal.
neither of you have ever been this turned on just by kissing, heavy petting, and grinding. but neither of you dare to stop. it feels too good, like a craving you’ve subconsciously had.
riki pauses the movement of your hips, being the first one to break this careful, but familiar, tension between you two. “baby, give me a sec. i’m c-close,” he mutters.
wanting to see what he looks like when he finishes, you grin, dragging your hips down harder and slower, in a teasing manner. he groans, but with the same teasing energy, bucks his hips up into yours, allowing you to feel just how big he is—and he knows it, too. judging by your reaction, he can tell it’s been a while since you’ve both been intimate with someone else.
feeling his release closer than he’d say out loud, he takes control of your movements, speeding them up. you can feel how badly he needs this. how desperate he needs you.
the friction of his covered cock rubbing repeatedly on your sensitive clit, feels better than anything you’ve ever tried with others or yourself. you’re both panting, forehead to forehead, when everything comes crashing down. riki releases into his gray sweats, making a mess. he swears he’s never cum that hard. and your panties get increasingly sticky and uncomfortable.
basking in the aftermath of your shared orgasm, riki gently holds you by the waist, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. lots of “you did great,” “that felt so good, baby,” and a lot of whining. “i need you so bad,” “please, angel, i’ll make you feel so so good.”
who are you to deny your first and only love?
you slowly stand on wobbly legs, stripping, giving riki a show.
he gawks as you remove each item of clothing, starting with your shirt. he’s surprised you aren’t wearing a bra but when your perky tits come into his eyesight, he’s right in front of you. grabbing—licking—whatever’s closest to his mouth and hands.
feeling a bit exposed, while he’s still fully clothed, you whimper into his mouth, silently asking him to take his clothes off as well.
speeding up the process, he rips his tank top off and finally. finally. you get a glimpse of what he always hides under his baggy hoodies. sculpted by the greek gods, you nearly drool at his defined torso. reaching out to drag a hand down his abs, riki shivers at your gentle, yet burning, touch.
you back him up so he sits on his bed and slowly sink to your knees. he leans back on his palms, quiet, but watching you like a hawk. you bring a hand up to cup his bulge, not caring about the sticky stain he’s left.
he groans, low, hot, and it goes straight to your wetness, practically leaking on his floor.
with your hands gripping his waistband, you look up into his dark eyes, clouded with lust, and he nods lifting his hips. yanking his sweats down, you’re met with his hard cock, slapping his abs. “no boxers, huh?” you smugly ask, as if he anticipated this. “nah, not when i’m relaxing, sweetheart.” sweetheart. the name he called you the last day you saw him as kids.
staring at his flushed cock, you lick your lips, ready to devour the man sitting in front of you.
you start by gripping his base, your fingers not fully wrapping around him. how the fuck are you supposed to fit him inside your mouth? a problem you’ve never faced, but for riki? you’d be stupid not to choke on it.
giving his tip sweet little kitten licks, you dig your tongue into his slit, as if you were trying to drink up all his precum. “fuck,” he grunts out, hoping you didn’t discover how sensitive he was at his tip.
he thinks you didn’t, but he should really know better.
you focus all your attention on his swollen head, sucking softly and jerking off the rest of his lengthy dick. his back falls flat, resting on his bed, while he lets out a symphony of moans.
abruptly, you pull off him and when he leans up on his elbows to see why, he’s met with the sight of spit falling from your lips, landing right on his tip. then, his vision goes white.
you lean down, shoving him in your mouth, lips stretched around his girth.
you take him halfway, and the stretch alone is painful already. knowing this might be an issue, riki speaks up, “fuck, you don’t have to take all of me, this already feels so—” but you cut him off, when you sink your mouth further, his tip hitting your throat.
you swallow around him and he whimpers. he’s never felt anything like this before.
when he’s tried to hook up with girls in the past, they normally gave up after a minute of trying to unhinge their jaw to please him.
but with you? he should’ve known you’d be the one to make him proud.
noticing how surprised he is, you start bobbing your head up and down, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth.
it’s messy, wet, and loud. but neither of you care. not when riki is whimpering beneath you so prettily.
his tip repeatedly slams into the back of your throat, making you gag but it just turns him on more. his thighs start to tense and he knows he’s close to his second orgasm.
feeling him twitch in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and ignore the tears streaming down your face. only focused on his pleasure. you know exactly what will push him over the edge, so you bring your mouth up his cock, lips wrapped carefully around his tip.
swirling your tongue around it, occasionally focusing on his slit, you bring one hand up to his balls and the other to wrap around his base, applying pressure to the vein running along his shaft.
one second later, your mouth gets flooded with his sticky, hot cum. rope after rope shooting from his enlarged tip. his dick is pulsing in your mouth and his cum never ends. it’s spilling out of your mouth onto the floor, but you try and swallow everything you can, not wanting to waste even a drop.
his chest is rapidly rising and falling when you pull off of him with a pop. you wipe your mouth with the sleeve of your shirt and smile sweetly at him, acting like you didn’t just suck him so good his soul left his body.
“damn, baby, didn’t know you wanted me that bad.” he says through a smirk. “calm down nishimura, i could’ve filled up a gallon of water with how much you came,” you bite back. he just looks at your tear stained cheeks and a sense of pride swells in his chest.
while he’s lost in his thoughts, you stand up, knees bruised from his hardwood floor.
glancing between his legs, you notice he’s still hard. how much cum does he have for you? you wonder, taking off your jeans and panties in one go.
now that you’re both fully naked, riki gets up off his bed and approaches you, holding one of your hands. he spins you around, taking in your fully nude body for the first time.
noticing his staring, you open your mouth, “are you just gonna stare or fuck me?”
smoothly, he leads you to lie down on his bed, “patience, princess, be good for me while i take care of you, yeah?” oh you’re gone already.
he leans down to kiss you and your hands find his nape, gently grabbing the hair trailing down his neck.
you mistook riki for an ass guy, when his fascination with your tits makes you break the kiss. he’s sucking gently on your right nipple, his free hand finding your left boob.
moaning gently, you tip your head back into his pillow that smells like comfort, and something musky, but it’s something extremely riki. you instinctively arch into his touch, bare core desperately grinding into the air of his bedroom, desperate for friction.
he senses your neediness, bringing his stiff cock down to rub between your soaked folds. his tip catches your clit, eliciting soft whimpers from your parted lips. using your slick as lube, he lines himself up, stopping before he goes further. “condom?” he sweetly asks. you whisper, under your breath, “n-no, i’m on birth—,” however, you don’t get to answer him when you feel his tip slide into your awaiting hole.
both moaning in relief, he stays with just his tip in, preparing you for the stretch that’s about to come. you relax a bit, a signal for him to push a bit further, cutting off his action with a loud moan.
it’s better than any porn he could dream of, and he’s only about two inches in. the sheer girth of him alone makes it feel like he’s splitting you open in the best way possible.
you look down, thinking he’s halfway in, when in reality, he’s about a fourth of the way inside you. meeting his eyes, he senses your nerves, bringing a hand down to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves.
it helps distract you from the pain, allowing him to slide half way in. he groans at the sensation of your warm, wet walls, engulfing his aching cock. “baby, you gotta relax… you’re s’tight,” he drunkenly mumbles. you can only whimper in response, exhaling as you try to calm down.
once your breathing has returned to a normal state, riki slowly pushes in more, but it all comes to a halt when you wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him all the way in.
he moans, caught off guard, guessing your patience snapped like a thin wire.
as his thick length rests inside you, you can’t help but let out a string of moans, incoherently babbling about how big he feels, and how deep he’s reaching.
“f-fuck. baby, please, can—can i move?” he forces out. you hum in agreement.
he slowly pulls out until only his tip is sheathed inside your warm pussy, then pushes back in all the way. your eyes roll into the back of your head, “fuck. s—s’big, riks.” his pace steadily increases until he notices how your boobs bounce with each thrust he gives you.
he brings his head down, lips wrapping around one of the perky budd, giving you even more pleasure than you knew what to do with.
loud moans grace his ears, the only other sound being skin slapping.
his attention is dragged back to your face when one of your hands reaches for his and brings it up to your neck. his pace falters for a bit until his face contorts, realization dawning over his lust filled features. “oh? does my baby wanna be choked? dirty slut.” you nod in response.
feeling the pressure of his cold ring clad fingers wrapping around your burning flesh, you let out a sigh of relief, the tension in your tummy building at a rapid pace.
riki suddenly pulls out of you, flipping you on all fours, placing a pillow under your stomach. he drags your hips up, kneading the plumpness of your ass. he slams back into you, reaching even deeper in your guts, as he hovers over your back.
“you like feelin’ me this deep, hm?” he takes your hand and places it over the bump you feel with every thrust. your noises are muffled by his bed, which ticks him off—he wants to hear every sound that slips through your mouth. noticing that you liked things a bit rough, he pulls your hair, bringing you flush against the hardness of his chest.
he stills inside you, letting you feel every inch, twitch, and pulse. he’s holding off his orgasm for as long as he can, but he’s not sure how long he can last when you keep clenching around him.
he knows it’s unintentional, but it feels too good, he just needs a second.
you can feel him breathing down your neck when you begin to move. he tries stopping you, but to no avail, you start bouncing on his stiffened cock.
“f-fuck. gonna—cum,” he moans when he attempts to pull out. you push him back down, needing to feel him fill you up. “no. inside,” is all you can muster when he makes a sound of confusion.
slowly gaining confidence, you turn around, and flip him over so you’re on top of him.
flustered by the change in positions, riki gasps when you start to move. his hand finds your clit, rubbing in tight circles.
the band in your stomach starts building, fueling both of your desperation.
your orgasm comes crashing down in waves, pushing riki to buck his hips up, fucking you through it. “that’s it, baby, let it out. c’mon, be a good girl f’me and make a mess,” he mutters out, wanting to prolong your pleasure for as long as he can.
as you cum, your walls uncontrollably clench around his dick, making it harder for him to slide in and out. he starts to chase his own high, gently placing your head back on his pillow and picking up your legs to rest on his shoulders.
he pistons in and out of you, mind hazy, consumed with the need to cum inside of you.
groaning, he stills in your abused cunt, flooding you with the gift of his cum. each pulse, you clench around his hard cock, milking him dry.
he’s on cloud nine, feeling the way you’re taking everything he could possibly offer you.
just as he thinks he’s nearing the end of his high, you whisper in a sultry voice, “you’re still hard, riks,” which makes his skin flush a deep red. his balls tighten and somehow a couple more ropes of cum shoot into your womb. he doesn’t know what you do to him, “take it out on me, baby, i can’t imagine how pent up you must be…” and that does it for him.
wanting to try something new, he straddles your torso, pushing your plush tits together. he aligns his sensitive cock between the flesh and slowly slides through. you stick your tongue out, trying to lick his tip each time it peeks between your boobs.
his cock is nearly too thick for your tits to wrap around him, but he doesn’t care. the sight is more than enough for him to finish.
he’s already close.
the sensitivity gets to him when you begin to hold your tits together, giving him an unobstructed view of you. each time your tongue laps at his slit, he feels himself growing closer to the high he so badly craves.
what really does it for him, is when you spit between your breasts, further lubing his cock. with a low, drawn-out moan, he paints your tits and face with his cum. the sight is too much, his balls go into overdrive, pulsing out more and more ropes of his white, messy load.
your mouth hangs open, wanting to taste more of the salty substance. he thinks you’re perfect.
he collapses on top of you, feeling spent and tired. it’s only when you whine about the stickiness between your legs, on your boobs, and on your face that he gets out of bed, rushing to his bathroom.
he makes his way back over to you with a warm washcloth, and the softest touch you’ve ever felt. he gently cleans the mess he made, only now realizing how much cum he gave you.
and you took all of it. his good girl.
once he’s done wiping away his mess, he picks you up bridal style, heading back to his bathroom. to your surprise, he drew you a bath, with scented candles—lavender. he remembered your favorite.
he helps you into the tub, climbing in behind you. he shampoos your hair, conditions it, and even washes your body with such care, it brings tears to your eyes.
after many hushed whispers, he drains the bathtub, helping you dry off and get into your (his) clothes.
you both get back into his bed, snuggled against one another, riki’s embrace wrapped around you warmer than any blanket could provide.
“riki?” you whisper, afraid to shatter the delicate silence. he hums in response. “please don’t leave me again,” you say trembling, a silent tear slipping down your cheek.
he turns you to face him, “hey, hey, hey, baby, i’m right here. and i know what i did was shitty, you deserved an explanation. but. i couldn’t let you get caught up in what i was doing. it was risky, i couldn’t be what you deserve,” he croaks out, tears wetting his lashes. now it was your turn to comfort him, “oh my riki,” you cooed, cradling his face.
“you did what you had to do, but what’s important is that you’re here now. with me. okay?” you plant the softest kiss on his plump lips. “okay,” he says with a small smile.
you don’t let go. neither does he. his hands stay on your waist, tentative but needing, like he’s still trying to memorize the feel of you. your fingers linger against his jaw, your thumb brushing the damp skin beneath his eye. there’s silence between you, but it’s no longer heavy—just full. thick with everything that couldn’t be said before.
his lips brush against yours again—slower this time, deeper. like a question. and an answer. you lean in, the way you sigh into him. it’s not desperate, not rushed. it’s reverent.
when he pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath is shaky. “i missed you,” he whispers, voice barely audible. “missed you so much i forgot how to breathe without it hurting.”
you cup his face in both hands now, heart aching in the best way. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”
and then you kiss him again—like a vow sealed in warmth and want. like a beginning.
reblog if u enjoyed this! and comment or send an ask to be part of my perm taglist <3
[ @jaeyuniversal ] prod. 250419
TYSM FOR 200 NOTES 🥹🫶🏼
pairing: virgin!lee heeseung x experienced fem!reader
synopsis: you and heeseung are the school’s golden pair — popular, admired, and constantly shipped. the only problem? you can’t stand him. from competing on exams to gym class, you’re always neck and neck, and no one gets under your skin like he does. but while you see a rival, he sees the love of his life. when you overhear a hushed conversation that breaks you, will heeseung be able to win you back?
featuring: all of enha, winter from aespa, yuqi from (g)i-dle, and keeho from p1h
genre: angst... slow burn, some fluff, kissing, skinship, SMUTTTT, college au, first love trope?? sorta? one sided enemies to lovers
warnings: smut so mdni (18+), alcohol consumption, vandalizing property, Sexual Tension, everyone is around the same age (21-23), lowercase intended <3
(smut warnings under cut!)
wc: 13.271k
a/n: first fic is here! plsplspls leave feedback as anything helps!! was listening to you broke me first and got inspo for a kinda angsty fic pls bare with me :3 anyways! enjoy the read <3<3
smut content: mention of toys (but no use), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex (not for you), dry humping, switch! hee and reader, riding, mating press, too much kissing, masturbation (m.), breeding kink, slight dacryphilia, oral (m. & f.), deepthroating, belly bulge, creampie, size kinkish, big dick! hee, not much aftercare but it's like fluffy, y/n has a “reputation” that she gets around, VIRGIN HEESEUNG (but no one knows…) i think thats it? lmk if i missed anything ◡̈
not proofread!
lee. fucking. heeseung. you hate him. you can't stand him. he always knows what to say just to piss you off. you might be wondering, "why don't you just try to avoid him?" the issue is... you do. you try with ALL your power but to no avail, he's in the same friend group as you.
your friends, knowing you hate him, decided to combine friend groups to see if you and him could mend things. spoiler alert: it failed miserably.
you felt safe in your small circle with keeho (the man you deemed to be your biological older brother — you aren't related), yuqi (your junior high best friend), and winter (your literal wife).
you guys were well known around the entire city of seoul for being the "it group" — always partying, hooking up, and somehow still acing every class (while nursing massive hangovers).
however, heeseung's friend group consisted of the golden boys in decelis university: park jongseong (known as jay, he hates his given name), sim jaeyun (known as the australian transfer student, jake), park sunghoon (the insanely hot figure skater), kim sunoo (the bubbliest person you've ever met), yang jungwon (the boy with feline features, however you've made a special note to never piss him off cause he has a black belt), and nishimura riki (known as ni-ki because he wanted to be different).
you loved riki. he was like your younger brother — chaotic, blunt, and always three steps ahead of everyone. you’d even joked once that if you had to suffer heeseung’s presence, at least you got riki out of it.
unfortunately, riki had the worst habit of instigating chaos.
“truth or dare?” he asked one friday night, grinning like he already had your life planned out. everyone was crammed into jay’s ridiculously large basement, music low, snacks half eaten, and bodies sprawled on beanbags and plush carpet.
you should’ve said “truth.” you knew you should’ve. but you weren’t a coward.
“dare,” you answered, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
the group erupted in ooooh's in perfect synchronicity.
riki’s grin only widened. “i dare you to sit on heeseung’s lap for five minutes.”
you almost lunged across the room.
“riki,” you hissed, “you are so dead.”
he just wiggled his brows suggestively. “i’m a baby. you wouldn’t hurt me.”
the worst part? he was right.
you looked over at heeseung, who was watching you like a cat watching a cornered mouse — lazy smirk, fingers casually drumming against his knee. “scared, sweetheart?”
“i’ll kill you in your sleep,” you said sweetly as you stalked over and dropped yourself into his lap like he was made of cardboard and air.
he oofed, not because you were heavy, but because he wasn’t expecting you to actually do it.
“wow,” he murmured, lips near your ear. “you smell like citrus and bad decisions.”
you resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs.
five minutes. you just had to survive five minutes.
but then his hands casually settled on your waist, and you felt it — the spark. the electric, traitorous, goddamn spark that told you this was a very, very bad idea.
because maybe, just maybe, your hatred wasn’t as pure as you thought- no. what are you thinking??? you immediately shook the feeling that was buzzing inside you and blamed it on the alcohol swimming in your blood.
you definitely. hated heeseung. yup, yeah, you really did.
heeseung on the other hand? he was just praying to every god he could think of that you couldn't feel how sweaty his palms were getting.
because he was panicking. full blown, internal screaming, oh-no-she’s-sitting-on-me-and-she’s-warm kind of panicking. he hadn't expected you to actually follow through on your usual threats, much less practically straddle him in front of your mutual friends.
but now? now he was just trying to not pass out from the sheer force of your perfume and presence and the weight of years of unresolved tension that sat heavier than you ever could.
"you're sweating," you said flatly, side eyeing him with that expression that usually meant murder or mockery — or both. "you good?"
"totally," he croaked. "i always nearly die when beautiful people threaten me. it's, like, my thing."
you blinked once. twice.
"did you just call me beautiful?"
"i said what i said," he muttered, then immediately regretted everything.
your brows lifted in slow, dangerous amusement. "you feeling okay, heeseung? you hitting on me while i’m threatening you?”
“wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, almost too quiet for you to hear.
and there it was again. the spark. like a lighter flicked too close to your frayed nerves.
you looked away, choosing to focus on literally anything else, but his grip on your waist tightened just slightly, grounding you, almost daring you to acknowledge it.
“how much longer do i have to sit on this assholes lap?” you questioned under your breath, reminding yourself, reminding him, that this was temporary.
"4 minutes!" jake sang back as his accented voice rang in your ears. fuck, it's only been one minute? you thought to yourself... until he spoke.
“i could ruin us in three,” he whispered, warm breath tickling your ear. he was so close you could practically feel his labored breathing against your back. you craned your neck to the side so you could look him in the eyes, "what did you just say???" heeseung was at a loss for words — his brain only drawing blanks.
did he say what he thought he said in his head out loud? impossible. he's hidden it so well, no one in your guys' shared friend group had even suspected his overbearing attraction towards you.
so heeseung did the only thing he could think of. he gulped.
just as your gaze dropped to his adams apple, sunghoon cleared his throat, reducing the fiery tension between you two to reduce to a simmer. "time's up" he stated. and just like that, the warmth you once shared was gone.
as the game progressed, the most interesting things to occur were jake kissing sunghoon on the cheek, riki vandalizing an old alley way that never saw the sun, and winter lady-and-the-tramping a twizzler with keeho.
you and heeseung never dared to even spare a glance in each other's direction for the rest of the night.
───
you laid awake, staring at the ceiling in jay's basement while trying to get comfy on the leather couch that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. you couldn't sleep. and the reason? none other than your self-proclaimed arch nemesis: lee heeseung.
your friend groups slept on different floors to prevent you and heeseung arguing and waking up the entire house. you slowly got up, attempting and (barely) succeeding to not step on a sleeping figure sprawled on the floor.
as you walk up the stairs from the basement, you hear two people whisper shouting at each other.
you glance at the time displayed on your phone.
a measly 3:16 am stared brightly at you. who's awake at this hour?? as you step closer to the hushed voices, you think you can make out the unmistakeable deepness of riki's voice and heeseung's annoying(ly hot) whispers, tinged with sleep.
"why the fuck would you dare HER of all people to sit on MY lap????" heeseung shouts quietly, clearly frustrated. riki bursts into a fit of giggles. "dude, don't tell me you feel something for her, don't you guys like hate each other?" he says between snide little chuckles.
heeseung freezes. there's no way riki really caught on to what he was supposed to never let slip through the cracks... right?! so he musters up all the dignity he has left and defensively grunts a series of defenses "nowhywouldieverseeherlikethatsheisn'tmytypeandithinkshe'sgross"
riki blankly stares back at heeseung's panicking eyes, "okayyy," he drags the word out, "you don't need to put her down like that, she's like my older sister, dude" riki spits back.
your lips twitch in a small smile, just for a second. just long enough for riki to catch your eyes peeking behind the corner. he nods once, subtle and solid. always in your corner.
but the comfort dies as soon as heeseung opens his mouth.
"i could never love someone like her."
and the world stops.
he says it so casually. almost like it’s a joke. like it's just another throwaway comment tossed between drinks and half-meant insults. but it lands with the weight of something cruelly true — or at least, something you believe he means.
you feel the breath hitch in your throat. just once.
riki's gaze is drawn to your frozen frame. and that's when everything freezes. heeseung whips around to see you standing there. eyes blown and glossy.
riki shifts, but he doesn’t move to try and console you — he knows better. knows this is something that'll bruise. something you need time to process, alone.
you bite back tears. “right,” you say, quietly. “of course.”
heeseung’s expression flickers — confusion, regret, something else — but you’ve already masked the pain. emotion draining from your face like you’ve trained for it. like it’s a sport. like if you stop moving, the hurt will catch up.
“i didn’t mean it like that,” he says, a little too late, a little too soft.
you readjust your posture, fixing your shirt.
“you meant it exactly like that,” you reply, and it’s not even bitter. it’s worse. numb.
riki’s there before heeseung can say anything else. standing between you like a wall. like a shield.
“walk away,” he tells you gently, and you do.
because if you stay, you might ask him why not. and you’re not sure your heart could take the answer.
riki turns back to heeseung, flames he's never seen before burning in the younger boys irises that are normally filled with mischief and teasing glints. but all of a sudden none of that is there anymore. it's pure, unfiltered anger. raw emotion.
heeseung wants him to yell at him. say something, anything. but nothing comes. riki just walks upstairs like he doesn't even know who heeseung is anymore.
and maybe he doesn't.
───
the next morning, when heeseung wakes up, it's almost peaceful. until rain begins to tip tap on the roof and everything comes crashing down. his chest is tight and immediately swells with regret. so much he thinks it'll spill out of him just like the rain outside.
he needs to talk to you. make sure you're okay. but he knows he's the last person you want to see right now. still, he has to try
as he descends down the stairs, he doesn't smell the usual feast jay would prepare them: eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice and cereal for jake since he claims, "it doesn't hurt his tummy," (his words).
he actually doesn't see jake. nor sunghoon, sunoo, jungwon, jay, winter, yuqi, or keeho.
after last nights events, he expected not to see riki as he was probably with you.
how did he go from having the girl of his dreams sitting on his lap, to making her hate him even more?
it's simple, really: he fucked up.
he moves through the house like a ghost — rooms too quiet, air too still. no laughter, no music playing off someone’s phone. just him and the rain.
the basement still has the blanket you’d curled up with last night. your mug — half full. he picks it up, and it’s cold. like him.
he tries to call riki. no answer.
he tries to call you.
it goes straight to voicemail.
he types out a text. deletes it. tries again.
“i didn’t mean what i said. i didn’t mean to hurt you. i'm sorry, y/n”
he stares at it. sends it.
and immediately regrets it. because what if you never answer?
as he packs up all his belongings, ready for the uncomfortable drive home, someone enters the house.
heeseung's heart rate picks up. what if it's you? he bolts down the stairs and is ultimately disappointed when he's met with a very disapproving jay.
they stand across from one another, staring into each others eyes.
heeseung's the first to break. he collapses on the bar stool at the counter and drops his head into his hands like it weighs a ton.
jay just sighs and sits down next to his friend.
"is she okay?" heeseung mumbles, his face buried in his hands.
jay’s jaw tightens. "why do you care?" he snaps. "you sure as hell didn’t last night when you said you could never love someone like her."
the words hit hard — harder than jay intended — and heeseung shatters.
the sobs break out of him like a dam giving way, loud and raw. tears stream down his face, and the sound of it makes jay flinch, caught off guard by how real the pain is. how broken heeseung suddenly looks.
still, jay moves without thinking, reaching out and rubbing slow circles on his friend’s back. it doesn’t fix anything, but it softens the edges of the moment.
they sit there in silence, the storm outside echoing the one inside, as heeseung cries himself hoarse.
by the time he’s able to breathe steadily again, nearly an hour has passed. his eyes are red, his voice barely there. he lifts his head and meets jay’s gaze; tired looking into just as tired.
neither of them says much. there’s no need.
finally, jay sighs and stands. “go grab your stuff,” he says quietly. “you’re in no shape to drive. i’ll take you home.”
heeseung doesn’t argue.
because for once, he knows jay’s right.
───
your phone dings.
dni: i didn't mean what i said. i didn't mean to hurt you. i'm sorry, y/n
you stare at your phone. gaze void of emotion. you've cried out everything you could muster.
you don't even know why heeseung's words echo in your head.
were you really that intolerable to be around? surely you weren't. all of heeseung's friends enjoyed hanging out with you and same with your little group.
so why did hearing your supposed enemy say he could never love someone like you hurt so bad?
you suppose you need to distract yourself from thinking that heeseung's words have any sort of impact on you. and that's when your door swings open. riki, yuqi, winter, keeho, sunghoon, jake, sunoo, and jungwon walk into your apartment with food, video games, board games, coloring books, skincare — everything you needed at the moment.
a break.
a break from your spiraling thoughts and endless questions you didn't want answered.
there's a knock at the door, jay comes in after he dropped heeseung off, with a freshly made cake, red velvet. your favorite.
you don’t move at first.
the warmth of your friends floods the apartment — laughter, chatter, the familiar rustle of takeout bags and the buzz of game controllers syncing. but it feels distant, like you’re underwater, watching from behind a thick pane of glass.
yuqi wraps her arms around you from behind, cheek resting on your shoulder. “we got your favorite pork buns,” she says softly.
you nod. you don’t trust your voice.
riki’s the one who notices your phone still clutched in your hand. screen glowing. that message. his message.
he doesn’t say anything, but he takes the phone from you gently, pressing the lock button, letting the screen fade to black. and you’re grateful. because if you kept staring at it, you might’ve started crying again, and you didn’t think you had anything left in you.
“movie?” sunghoon offers, holding up a stack of dvd's none of you ever returned to the library.
“coloring?” sunoo chirps, already spreading out gel pens across your coffee table.
“face masks?” winter insists, already tearing them open.
you let them distract you. you let them love you in the only way they know how — loudly, messily, unconditionally.
there’s a moment, in the middle of the chaos, when keeho makes a stupid joke and jungwon snorts soda out of his nose, that you laugh. actually laugh.
and then it hits you like whiplash — how easily heeseung could’ve been here. how almost close you came to letting yourself believe there was something soft behind his smirks and eye rolls. how you’d dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, the tension between you wasn’t just one-sided delusion.
but then he said it. “i could never love someone like her.”
and even with the people you love surrounding you, something in your chest hurts. like a bruise that won’t stop blooming.
later, after everyone’s settled into pillows and half-finished coloring pages, riki sits beside you. he doesn’t speak for a long time.
then, quietly, “you don’t have to pretend around me.”
and that’s when your lip trembles. just slightly.
“i don’t know why it hurts this much,” you whisper. “i knew he hated me. i knew. so why do i feel so broken?"
“he didn’t have to say it like that,” riki replies, voice firm. “he didn’t have to break something just because he couldn’t admit he wanted to hold it.”
you nod, finally letting a single tear trail down your cheek. riki wipes it away before it can fall too far.
he squeezes your hand.
“he messed up,” he says. “that’s on him. not you.”
you hold onto that — his words, their presence, the comfort of being chosen and cared for.
and for the first time since last night, you breathe. not easily. not painlessly. but it’s a start.
───
heeseung didn't know how hard it would be to try and get any information about you.
how you were doing, if you were okay. anything
your mutual friends? after hearing how massive he fucked up, they sided with you.
sure, jay, jake, sunghoon, sunoo, and jungwon would text him and hang out with him occasionally, but they wouldn't utter a word about you. most of the time heeseung saw them, it would be for awkward movie nights or when they would game together when none of them could sleep.
when he was alone, his mind ached, his chest twisted in pain, but mostly... his body ached.
he tried to stop it, he knew it was wrong.
but when you sat on his lap, something in him shifted.
sure he knew you were pretty (breathtakingly stunning), but he never imagined something he thought about constantly would ever become reality.
he thought back to those 5 minutes. the tension. surely it couldn't have just been made up in his head, right?
the way your entire body tensed when his hands rested on your hips. normally he wouldn't have touched you, but you were shifting and he needed to stop his growing problem before you noticed.
and thankfully it worked.
however, he was already hard as a brick.
his breath hitched as he remembered the look in your eyes — uncertain, but not scared. curious, maybe? or was he projecting again?
he swallowed hard, his hands now clenched at his sides like if he let them loose, they’d betray him again.
five minutes. that’s all it was. but it looped in his head like a damn broken record.
you hadn’t said a word. but your thighs had tensed. and when he shifted, trying to regain his composure, you hadn't moved away — not immediately, anyway.
maybe it meant nothing. maybe you hadn’t even noticed the way his breath had gone shallow or the way he was holding back like his life depended on it.
but god, his body remembered.
he shifted in his bed now, alone, frustrated, angry at himself. this wasn’t who he was supposed to be. he wasn’t supposed to want this — to want you — not like this. not in silence, not in secrecy, not in pain.
but the damage was already done.
and the worst part?
he wasn’t sure he even wanted to stop anymore.
as he stared at his chase atlantic posters, he thought to himself. any guy would get hard when a pretty girl sits on his lap, right? surely it isn't just because he's a pathetic virgin who's had to lie to his entire friend group about how he "gets around."
soon enough, his thoughts were interrupted by the rapidly increasing ache between his legs.
his hands trembled slightly as they hovered over the tent in his shorts. his breathing was shallow, lips parted, eyes half-lidded as if he were caught in some fever dream he didn’t want to wake up from.
he hated how much he needed this.
how much he needed you.
with a low, strangled groan, he finally gave in, palming himself over the thin fabric. the relief was immediate, but it wasn’t enough — it never was. not when the ache ran deeper than just skin. not when every nerve in his body was screaming for more.
he slipped his hand beneath his waistband, hissing through clenched teeth as his fingers wrapped around his thick length, already twitching with need. he was so hard it hurt, painfully stiff and dripping at the tip, slicking his palm almost instantly.
your name burned on his tongue, but he swallowed it back.
he couldn’t say it. shouldn’t say it.
but in his head, it echoed over and over again. your laugh. your voice. the way you looked at him — or didn’t. the way you moved. god, he remembered everything. he was haunted by it.
he shut his eyes tight and let his hand move — slow at first, starting at his base and dragging his fingers up each vein decorating the sides. his patience wore out quicker than he'd ever admit, starting to move up his length, then down with just enough pressure to make his thighs twitch. he bit his lip, hard, trying to hold in the sounds. but as the memory of you shifting in his lap played behind his eyelids like a cruel fantasy, a soft whimper escaped.
he was losing it.
desperation clawed at him with every stroke, every flex of his hand. his hips lifted off the mattress as his muscles tensed. he imagined your fingers replacing his, your body hovering over his, your breath against his neck.
“please,” he gasped into the dark — not even sure what he was begging for. forgiveness? permission? you?
he pumped harder now, faster, chasing that high like it would save him. his other hand gripped the sheets, knuckles white. he was right on the edge, falling apart with nothing but the echo of your presence and the throb of need coiled deep in his belly.
“i need — fuck, i need you,” he moaned, broken and breathless. his body was hot, slick with sweat, twitching under his own touch.
he could feel it. the band threatening to snap at any moment.
he swirled his fingers around his tip, hitting that spot that made his vision go white. he was close.
all it took to unravel him was an image of you, mouth replacing his hand. trying to fit as much of him into your mouth while he just laid there and took it.
eventually the thought was too much, his seed spilled over his stomach in thick, messy ropes, his fist slowing only when the aftershocks wracked his frame like a wave of guilt and pleasure colliding all at once.
he laid there for a moment, chest heaving, skin flushed and sticky.
and then it hit him.
he still wasn’t satisfied.
because it wasn’t your touch. it wasn’t your voice, your kiss, your heat. it was just his hand and a fantasy he couldn't let go of.
and no matter how many times he did this, no matter how many times he used the memory of you…
it was never going to be enough.
───
you’ve held it together for as long as you could — smiled through movie nights, laughed at keeho’s stupid impressions, even ate something other than ramen yesterday. but it’s all surface level. the moment you're alone again, the cracks split wide open.
there you are, sitting on your couch, drowning in your thoughts.
the faint glow of the streetlamp filters through the windows, further highlighting the text message staring back at you
“i didn’t mean it.”
it replays in your head over and over like a broken record until your vision starts to blur. tears flood your waterline but you make no effort to stop them.
you don’t sob. you just sit there, hurting so quietly it’s almost peaceful.
until it isn’t.
your lip trembles slightly, then it all comes pouring out.
“why? why did you say that? what the fuck. did i do to deserve those words?”
riki hears your quiet words from the bathroom. he comes rushing out, empathy and sadness twirling in his eyes.
“hey, hey, hey, talk to me y/n. yell at me if you need to, yeah?” he says. voice barely above a whisper. all you can choke out is a tiny “no, none of this is your fault.”
riki sits next to you, holding you, trying to piece you back together as if he were the one who broke you.
disrupting the mellow silence lingering in your apartment, there’s a knock at the door.
not wanting the worst case scenario, you answering the door to heeseung, riki gets up and makes his way to where the sound came from.
to both of your dismay, a tired heeseung stands in the doorway.
his hair is messy, dark bags under his usually teasing eyes, looking like he hasn’t slept in days.
he freezes when he sees you. your puffy eyes, shaking hands, the way you curl in on yourself like you’re trying to disappear.
riki steps in front of you, but you give him the signal to back down. you and heeseung can handle this alone. what’s another argument anyways?
as riki walks away, heeseung starts slowly “yn…”
you look at him. and no matter how hard you could have tried, nothing could have stopped you from snapping at him.
“why are you here?” “i had to see you. i had to say–” “you already said enough, heeseung.”
god. the way you say his name. all he’s thought about since you last saw each other was you saying his name. and now, he doesn’t wanna hear it ever again.
he opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.
“do you know what it felt like to hear you say i wasn’t lovable? that someone like me could never be enough for you?”
as if you could read his mind, you shake your head, dismissing whatever he was about to spit out.
with every last ounce of energy you can gather, you scream. “you don’t get to feel sorry now. you made your choice the other night. i knew we had a mutual hatred, or at least some twisted distaste, but i never even thought about saying something like that to you.”
he doesn’t respond right away. just stands there, frozen. then you hear it. soft sniffles. ragged breathing. sobs.
he breaks.
because this is the first time he gets it. really, truly understands what he did. what he said. what it cost you.
“i’m sorry,” he chokes out, voice cracked and barely audible. “truly. what i said last week… i didn’t mean it. even thinking it broke me.”
you stare at him for a long, quiet second. and then you say it — flat, but shaking.
“you broke me first, heeseung.”
his breath catches. your words land like a punch to the gut, because they’re the truth. maybe the first truth spoken between you in a long time.
heeseung, who’s always so calm. so composed. the one who rolls his eyes at everything and makes everything feel like a joke. he’s crumbling in front of you now. not fighting. not defending. just falling apart.
and then it hits you. maybe he’s always been like this.
watching you. listening. never the first to strike, only ever the one to react. maybe he was never the villain in this story.
your breath hitches. maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.
you don’t know why the realization crashes down now. maybe it’s the sound of his sobs. maybe it’s the way the silence has more weight than anything he’s ever said. but something inside you shifts.
and for the first time, you see him — not as the enemy. but as the boy who let you hate him, because he didn’t know how to ask for anything else.
you replay every argument like a tape stuck on rewind. you were always the one who started it.
the snide comments. the sideways glances. the venom you dressed up as jokes.
heeseung never really fought back. he always matched your energy, sure, but he never escalated it. never crossed a line. not until that night.
your chest tightens. you realize you don’t even remember what the first fight was about. some hallway bump? a misunderstood glance? maybe it was never about anything. maybe it was just you, projecting every piece of your brokenness onto the only person who saw through it and stayed.
god, had he always stayed?
you remember in elementary school, how he used to bring you extra snacks when you forgot lunch. how he gave you his hoodie that one time you were shivering during morning assembly, even after you’d spent the entire week roasting him in front of your friends.
you remember the way his gaze always lingered—not in a way that felt invasive, but like he was always checking. watching over you without saying a word.
and now here he is. slumped into his knees. back pressed against the wall, crying over you.
you were so busy building walls with your bitterness that you didn’t notice it was slowly breaking him.
the quiet way he tried to reach over them.
you sink to the floor across from him, not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel the weight of everything between you.
for a long moment, you don’t speak. neither does he. you just breathe in the silence together — like it’s the only language you both understand.
“i didn’t know how to stop hating you,” you whisper, voice catching. “because if i stopped… i think i would’ve started needing you.”
heeseung lifts his head. eyes red, lashes wet.
“i already did,” he says. “i never stopped.”
your heart fractures in a way that doesn’t feel sharp, just tired. heavy.
“i don’t know what to do with that,” you admit.
“you don’t have to do anything,” he murmurs. “not tonight.”
you nod. once. then you help him get up. both your legs feel numb, but you walk him towards the door. your hand rests on the handle, taking a second to look up at him. really look at him, and you’re tempted to say something.
but instead, you give him the quietest thing you can offer: a small, broken sort of smile. not quite forgiveness. not quite goodbye.
then, he steps out into the night. and just like that, the quietness of everything settling in takes over. no more lies. just the truth.
as you’re deep in thought, riki walks in with two mugs of hot chocolate — extra marshmallows, your favorite.
-ˏˋ⋆ 3 years ago ⋆ˊˎ-
it’s a chilly summer night. you and riki are sprawled out on the roof of his parents' house, the shingles warm beneath your backs from the day’s lingering sun. crickets hum below. the stars blink overhead, careless and constant.
you shift slightly, seeking warmth, and without a word, riki lifts his arm. you curl into the space beside him, head on his shoulder, fingers tucked into the sleeve of his hoodie. his arm settles around you like it belongs there.
“do you think we’ll ever feel like this again?” you murmur. “peaceful. like nothing’s wrong.”
he hums low in his chest. “you mean without chaos or boys who don’t deserve you?”
you let out a breath, half a laugh. “exactly.”
there’s a pause, the kind that feels thick with unspoken things.
riki’s voice is soft when he finally speaks. “i think… the people who make you feel heavy, like you're constantly questioning yourself, that’s not love, y/n. that’s something else.”
you turn your face slightly to look up at him. he’s gazing at the stars like he’s afraid of admitting he craves the one thing he’s always sworn to never care about.
“love should never hurt,” he says, quieter this time. “not the kind that stays.”
you don’t say anything right away. you’re too busy memorizing the way the night folds around his words. the way he’s always been a comfort for you, the one to pick you up when you’re falling.
and in that moment, you believe him. you really do.
you nod once. “then i hope… when it’s my turn, it feels like this. safe.”
riki swallows. “me too.”
-ˏˋ⋆ present time ⋆ˊˎ-
and now, back in your bedroom, the silence left in heeseung’s absence is deafening.
your gaze flicks toward the window, rain still threading down the glass like tear tracks. your mind lingers on that rooftop — the stars, the safety, the version of you who still believed in soft things.
before all the hook-ups, parties, and one-sided confessions.
you pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders and whisper. either to riki or yourself, you don’t know.
“you said love should never hurt. i think heeseung missed that memo.”
and god, how you wish you could go back to that night — before the spiral, before the ache.
before the boy who made you feel like an afterthought.
before you let yourself fall over someone you thought you didn’t care about.
riki leaves after making sure you’re alright, mumbling something about dance practice.
and again, it’s just you. in the quiet.
then, almost without thinking, you rip a blank piece of paper out of your journal.
you don’t plan it. it’s just instinct — fingers gripping your pen, waiting for permission your heart hasn’t quite given. but then you start writing.
dear heeseung,
i hated you before i knew how badly i could want you. maybe that’s where it all went wrong. because at some point, i stopped seeing you as the boy who annoyed me and started seeing you as someone i wanted to understand. as someone i wanted to look at me and see me. and for a while, i thought maybe you did. i thought maybe the way you pulled me into your lap, the way you whispered near my ear, the way your hand rested on my waist — i thought maybe it meant something. i thought i was stupid for hating you. turns out i was just stupid for hoping. you said you could never love someone like me. and god, that broke something in me i didn’t know was still whole. because even when i told myself i hated you, there was always that small, traitorous part of me that wondered: what if he doesn’t hate me back? what if it’s more? but it wasn’t. and now i can’t unhear it. you probably didn’t even mean it — not in the way it came out. maybe it was fear, or pressure, or ego. but it doesn’t matter, does it? words don’t get erased just because we didn’t mean them. they echo. and yours… yours are still echoing inside me like a song i can’t shut off. i don’t think i’m mad at you anymore. i think i’m mad at myself. for letting you get close. for not guarding the parts of me i only let out in small doses. for thinking i was different to you. i wish you hadn’t said it. but mostly, i wish it hadn’t mattered so much to me that you did. – y/n
you take out an envelope, neatly fold the paper and stuff it inside, writing a neat ‘heeseung’ on the front of it.
some truths aren’t meant to be sent. some confessions are only meant for the rain to witness.
and tonight, that’s enough.
───
the second the door shuts behind him, the silence hits like a punch to the ribs.
heeseung stands there for a second too long, staring at the wood grain of your door like it might open again. like maybe you’ll come running after him. like maybe that small, broken smile you gave him wasn’t the end.
but it doesn’t open.
and it was the end.
he starts walking. he doesn’t even remember moving his feet, just that suddenly he’s outside, and the rain greets him like an old friend. cold, sharp, unforgiving. it soaks through his hoodie in seconds, but he doesn’t flinch.
he deserves it. every drop. every chill. every echo of your voice in his head.
“not quite forgiveness. not quite goodbye.”
god, what did he do?
how did he take someone who was literally sitting in his lap, trusting him with the fragile thread of something real — and turn that into this? this mess of silence and space and words he can’t take back?
“i could never love someone like her.”
he had said it so carelessly. so cruelly. trying to deflect the attention off himself in front of your friends, like a coward. like a boy who still thinks protecting his ego is worth more than protecting a heart.
especially your heart.
he wipes his face with the back of his hand, unsure if it’s tears or rain. it’s probably both.
he thinks back to your eyes right before he left. the way you looked at him like he was someone you used to know. like whatever thread was between you had finally snapped.
and the worst part?
he couldn’t even beg you to stay.
because he knows — he knows — he doesn’t deserve it.
he walks home in silence, the city around him buzzing and breathing like it doesn’t care at all about the wreckage inside his chest. his phone buzzes a few times in his pocket, probably jay or jungwon checking if he made it back safely.
but none of it matters.
because there’s only one person he wants to hear from.
and you’ve already said everything you needed to say. in the way you didn’t ask him to stay. in the way you didn’t cry. in the way you simply closed the door.
so when heeseung finally steps into his apartment, soaked to the bone, trembling from more than just the cold, he collapses on his bed, stares at the ceiling, and whispers:
“i didn’t mean it. i swear i didn’t mean it.”
but there’s no one left to listen.
not tonight.
───
heeseung isn’t the center of your world anymore.
not in the way he used to be.
in the weeks that follow, your friends become your anchor. riki never leaves your side. winter brings over matcha lattes and blankets. sunoo paints your nails while jake tells bad jokes. you laugh again. slowly, but surely.
you start writing more letters.
some are angry. some are soft. some are nothing more than wordless scratches of ink on paper.
but one night, you write a letter that feels different.
you don’t even realize what you’re saying until it’s already down:
i wanted you. for a long time. maybe even when i said i hated you. maybe that was the only way i knew how to say it without crumbling. i masked want with rage. affection with sarcasm. love with loathing. you made it easier to run. but i wanted to stay. god, i wanted to stay.
you fold that letter gently. tuck it into your drawer. it doesn’t matter if he reads it. not now.
because healing isn’t about him.
it’s about you.
and you’re getting there.
lately, the weekends have felt lighter. your apartment has become a familiar gathering place again, only now, it’s just the people who stayed. who showed up. who chose you. heeseung hasn’t come around in weeks, and no one really talks about it. not in a cruel way, just in the quiet, understanding way that friendships shift when someone slips out of the picture.
you used to dread saturday nights, used to flinch every time the group chat lit up with plans. used to wonder if he’d show up, if you’d have to spend the night pretending not to notice the weight of his silence, the way your laughter dulled around him. but somewhere along the way, those nights started to feel easier. not because you stopped missing him — but because you started remembering how to miss him without hurting yourself in the process.
your living room is alive with warmth and laughter. the scent of popcorn and mango smoothies drifts through the air. blankets are piled high on the couch, soft pillows strewn across the floor where riki is dramatically throwing himself down after losing yet another round of mario kart to sunghoon, who’s grinning like he just won the olympics.
“cheater,” riki groans, pointing an accusing finger without lifting his head.
“just admit i’m better,” sunghoon replies smugly, stretching his legs across the coffee table like he owns the place.
in the corner, winter and yuqi are dancing barefoot to a chaotic mix of early 2000s pop and indie throwbacks — somehow still synced up to choreography you’d all made up back in sophomore year. their laughter is contagious, unfiltered and bright, and it tugs a smile onto your face before you even realize it.
keeho is halfway through teaching jungwon and sunoo a tiktok dance in the kitchen doorway, voice loud and arms flailing with exaggerated energy. they’re laughing too hard to get the moves right, collapsing into each other every time they mess up. jake, unfazed by the chaos, is blending something suspiciously green in the kitchen, wearing a headband that reads “chef vibes only.”
you’re curled up on the loveseat, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, a half-finished smoothie in your hands. and for once, you’re not scanning the room for him. you’re not wondering what he’d say or how he’d look at you or if tonight would be the night he pulled you aside and finally said something real.
you’re just… here. and it’s enough.
someone throws a pillow at your head, probably riki, based on the cackling, and you lunge to retaliate, laughing as the pillow war erupts across the living room. it’s messy, loud, ridiculous. and it’s yours. this little world you’re rebuilding, one laugh, one night, one breath at a time.
there’s still a part of you that misses him. maybe there always will be. but tonight, that part is small. quiet.
outnumbered by joy.
meanwhile, heeseung is alone in his apartment.
the place is dim. quiet. it hasn’t felt like home in a long time. he's been staring at his phone for an hour now, hoping for a text that doesn’t come.
he thinks about the group chat. the silence from everyone. he thinks about the night he ruined everything. and how, somehow, he still wants to fix it.
he knows an apology isn’t enough. not this time.
he needs to show you, all of you, that he’s not the same guy who let his fear speak louder than his heart.
he just doesn’t know how yet.
but he will. he has to.
because he doesn’t just want forgiveness.
he wants to deserve it.
───
somewhere in the chaos, one of your unsent letters goes missing.
riki finds it by accident. tucked under a cushion, edges worn. he doesn't mean to read it, but your handwriting draws him in, and before he knows it, he's holding your heartbreak in his hands.
he doesn't say a word. just slips it into his pocket and walks away.
a day later, heeseung finds the letter folded on the seat of his car.
he doesn’t recognize the paper at first. but the second he sees your handwriting, his heart drops.
his hands shake as he unfolds it. the silence around him is so loud, he can hear his pulse in his ears.
and then he reads it.
every word. every line. every raw, aching truth you never meant for him to see.
i thought maybe the way you pulled me into your lap, the way you whispered near my ear, the way your hand rested on my waist — i thought maybe it meant something. turns out i was just stupid for hoping. you said you could never love someone like me. and god, that broke something in me i didn’t know was still whole.
heeseung sits there, completely still. letter trembling in his grip.
"fuck," he whispers. "fuck."
he shows up to the next group hangout like his life depends on it.
he doesn’t talk to anyone. not really. not until you walk in.
you freeze when you see him. part of you wants to turn around and leave.
but he doesn’t let you.
he stands. crosses the room.
"can we talk?" he asks, voice low, not demanding, but pleading.
you don’t say anything.
"please. just five minutes. if you still hate me after, i’ll leave you alone. forever."
there’s a long pause.
you nod.
he takes you outside, away from the noise, into the quiet night.
"i read it," he says.
you blink. "read what?"
he reaches into his jacket and pulls out the letter. your letter.
your stomach drops.
"i wasn’t supposed to see it, i know. but... i’m glad i did."
"heeseung—"
"no. let me say this. please."
his eyes are desperate. glassy. his words shaky.
"i lied. that night. i said that because i was scared. because i felt too much, too fast, and didn’t know what to do with it. i thought if i pushed you away, i could kill whatever it was before it killed me."
he takes a step closer.
"but you weren’t just someone i hated. not really. you were someone i couldn’t stop thinking about. you were the highlight of every party, every night, every moment. i was an idiot. but i never stopped wanting you."
your throat is tight.
"you broke me," you whisper.
he nods.
"i know. and i’ll spend every second proving to you that i’m sorry. not with words — with time. with actions. with everything you’ll let me give."
there’s silence.
then you take a breath.
"you’ve got a lot to prove, lee heeseung."
he gives the smallest, hopeful smile.
"then let me start now."
and he does.
not with fireworks. not with promises he can’t keep. but with the small things. the consistent things.
the next morning, there’s a text from him. simple.
“did you sleep okay?”
you stare at it for a while before replying.
“yeah. you?”
“not really. kept thinking about you.”
you don’t answer that. but your heart stirs anyway.
a few days later, he’s waiting outside your class with a drink in his hand, the one he used to make fun of you for ordering (“that’s basically sugar and foam, y/n”), but now buys without hesitation. he doesn’t try to walk you home. doesn’t push. just hands you the drink, offers a soft “you looked tired,” and walks away before you can respond.
he lets you come to him.
at the next hangout, he doesn’t hover. doesn’t sulk. he helps jake in the kitchen, jokes with jungwon, lets the others tease him without biting back. when you walk in, his eyes find you — but he doesn’t pull you aside. just offers a quiet, careful smile. like he’s waiting. like he’s learning how to stay.
one night, you’re struggling with your laundry, balancing way too many bags and a basket of unfolded clothes, and he appears without a word, grabbing half the load from your arms. you glare at him, but you don’t tell him to stop.
he walks with you to the laundry room, helps you separate colors, folds your towels when you’re too tired to finish. “i owe you way more than this,” he says softly. you don’t look at him. “yeah,” you murmur. “you do.”
he doesn’t reply. just keeps folding.
you start to notice it more after that. the way he lingers behind after group dinners to help clean. the way he listens, really listens, when you talk, even if it’s just about the books you’re reading or the music you’ve been into lately. the way he starts learning your rhythms again, not to manipulate them, but to respect them.
one night, you find a note slipped into your bag.
“this isn’t about getting you back. it’s about being someone who deserves to stand beside you. i don’t expect anything from you. just… thanks for letting me try.”
you don’t know what to do with that. but you keep the note anyway.
and maybe the biggest moment doesn’t feel big at all. it’s late. you’re sitting on the floor of your apartment, overwhelmed with everything—assignments, memories, feelings you’ve tried to ignore—and he shows up.
he doesn’t say anything. just sits beside you. close, but not too close. his shoulder brushes yours. your hand trembles. and without looking at you, he says, “you don’t have to talk. just let me sit here.”
and you do.
because he’s not trying to fix you. he’s just showing up. and maybe that’s what love looks like now.
quiet. patient. real.
you don’t forgive him all at once.
but some nights, it’s harder to pretend you don’t want to.
like the night it rains, and you forget your umbrella. you’re standing under the campus archway, clutching your books to your chest, half-considering just running for it, when a quiet voice says, “hey.”
you turn. heeseung’s holding out his umbrella, expression unreadable, hair already wet from the walk over.
“you’ll get soaked,” you mumble, surprised. “i don’t mind,” he says. “but you hate the rain.”
you want to tell him to leave. want to remind him that knowing those things doesn’t mean he’s forgiven.
but instead, you step under the umbrella. shoulder to shoulder. hearts too close. you don’t say a word the whole walk home. but you remember how he always matched his pace to yours. he still does.
───
there’s another time. movie night.
everyone’s over again, sprawled across the living room. you end up between yuqi and jungwon on the couch, but at some point, someone moves, and when you shift, you realize you’re next to him. again.
the movie plays. people whisper and pass snacks and argue over the plot twist. but all you feel is the space between your knee and his. the ghost of warmth where your arms nearly brush.
you don’t move away. neither does he.
and at one point, you laugh at a stupid scene. without thinking, you glance at him, wanting to see if he found it funny too. he’s already looking at you. and for a second, everything stills.
you look away first. but your heart doesn't stop racing for a long, long time.
───
the third moment is softest of all.
it’s late. everyone’s left. you’re cleaning up alone, stacking plates in the kitchen.
you don’t hear him come back until he’s beside you, rolling up his sleeves.
“thought i’d help,” he says gently. you nod. don’t speak.
you’re both quiet for a while, working in sync. something about it feels… familiar. domestic. like home.
then, as you’re drying the last cup, you glance over. he’s watching you, and there’s something in his eyes. something tender. careful. full of things he hasn’t said yet.
“i miss you,” he says softly.
your breath catches.
you set the cup down.
“heeseung–”
“i’m not asking for anything,” he interrupts, voice thick. “just… i miss you. and i wanted you to know.”
you swallow hard. there’s so much you could say. but instead, you whisper, “i know.”
he nods once. and then he leaves. because he meant it — he wasn’t asking for anything. but that’s the moment you know: you don’t hate him anymore. you never did.
───
it happens a week later.
a rooftop. stars overhead. winter’s birthday, most of your friends are tipsy on alcohol, sugar and too many karaoke songs. you haven’t had a drop of alcohol, wanting to truly feel everything.
heeseung finds you leaning against the railing, eyes on the sky.
“hey,” he says. you nod and let him stand beside you.
the silence isn’t awkward anymore. it’s soft. steady.
“can i ask you something?” he says, barely audible.
you hum.
“do you still feel it?” he asks. “whatever it was… whatever we had.”
you don’t answer for a long time.
and then, quietly… “i never really stopped.”
he turns. slowly.
your eyes meet. and in them is every apology he’s ever whispered with his actions. every moment he gave you space. every time he showed up when he didn’t have to.
you reach for him first.
your hand brushes his. his fingers curl around yours like a prayer.
and then, finally, he kisses you.
soft. aching. full of every unspoken word, every almost, every could’ve been. this isn’t the kind of kiss that demands anything. it’s a promise. a beginning.
you pull back first, just enough to whisper, “i don’t wanna do this while you’re intoxicated, i don’t want you to regret it.”
he stares at you before mumbling into your lips.
“y/n, i haven’t had a drink, but it feels like i’m drunk when i kiss you.”
your heart stops and everything fades into the background. “don’t break me again.” you plead, face inches away from his.
he presses his forehead to yours.
“never again,” he breathes.
and this time, you believe him.
as he reconnects your lips, his hands tremble slightly where they find purchase on your waist. the night air is cool, but your skin is burning—flushed, alive, and aching in a way you haven’t let yourself feel in so long.
he pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes flick between yours and your lips, like he’s still not sure this is real.
“we don’t have to,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “just say the word.”
but you don’t want him to stop. not tonight. not after everything.
so you slide your fingers into the collar of his jacket, tug him closer until your lips brush his again.
“take me home, heeseung.”
and he does.
his apartment is quiet when you get inside, the chaos of the earlier party gone, the night still humming with something electric. you barely have time to kick your shoes off before his mouth finds yours again. hungrier now, more desperate. like all the restraint he’s shown is unraveling, thread by thread.
his hands are everywhere — your hips, your waist, your jaw. like he’s relearning you. memorizing the weight of you against him.
you tug his jacket off, fingers fumbling with the zipper, and he lets out a low, breathless laugh against your neck.
“still impatient,” he teases.
“still hot when you shut up,” you shoot back, and he groans.
you barely make it to the couch.
he sits first, pulling you into his lap like it’s instinct, like he’s needed this for months. your knees straddle him, bodies pressed chest to chest, your hands tangled in his hair as he kisses you like he’s starving for it.
he tilts his head, deepens the kiss, and it’s filthy. slow. wet. your hips roll against his without thinking, and the noise he makes, low and guttural, goes straight to your core.
“fuck,” he groans. forehead against your collarbone. “you’re gonna kill me.”
you arch into him, tug his shirt over his head, and he follows suit, fingers slipping under the hem of yours, eyes flicking up for permission. you nod, and he peels it off slowly, reverently, like unwrapping something precious.
his hands trail over your skin like he’s trying to remember what it feels like to deserve you.
and then his mouth is on your neck, your shoulder, trailing down until you’re gasping his name, your back arching as he presses kisses across your collarbones.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, like it hurts.
as you reach for his belt wanting to make him feel good, he puts his hand over yours. “there’s something i need to tell you.. before we take anything further.” he says like he doesn’t even want you to know.
“what is it, hee?”
god. that nickname.
it’s what all his close friends call him, however when you say it. he wants to lay the world at your feet.
“i’m.. uh– a vir-virgin…” he mumbles. you would have missed it had you not been paying close attention.
you laugh.
heeseung leans back into the couch, hoping, praying, wishing it to swallow him whole.
as you observe heeseung, you realize he must be serious. “you’re a virgin? but you– you always used to talk about your hook-ups and how every week it was like you had someone new hanging off your arm??? what do you mean you’re a virgin?”
he whimpers. he fucking whimpers. “i’m not proud of it, okay? i always came really close to hooking up with girls but i um. i couldn’t you know.. get it… up.”
you sit there quietly, giving him time to compose himself and continue.
“everytime i tried to lose my virginity, i couldn’t get hard unless i thought she was you,” he speaks, not gaining enough courage to look you in the eyes.
you stare at heeseung for a moment, trying to process what he just said. the weight of it settles between you like a delicate secret, and suddenly the playful teasing tone you’d had before feels completely inappropriate.
you can see it in his doe eyes — how embarrassed he is, how much he wants to crawl out of his own skin. the corners of his lips are tugged in a tight line, as if holding in every emotion that threatens to spill out. but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. it’s soft, gentle, but laced with a teasing warmth.
“you’re a virgin?” you ask, letting the words linger a little longer than they should, pretending to be surprised as if he hadn’t just told you, twice.
heeseung’s face reddens, and you see him shrink further into the couch. you could almost feel his desire to hide, to escape. but you don’t let him. instead, you move closer, shifting between his legs, and place your hand on his thigh. a gentle, reassuring pressure.
“god, heeseung,” you tease softly, your lips curling into a smile that isn’t cruel, but playful. “how could you keep that from me? you’ve been all… big talk and ‘i get all the girls,’ and here you are, this nervous little thing, blushing at the thought of being with me?”
his eyes flicker with uncertainty, but you lean in just enough to press your lips to his ear. you feel him tense under the touch, and the subtle shiver runs through his body, telling you everything you need to know. he’s not as confident as he makes it seem.
“you should’ve told me sooner, you know,” you whisper, your voice low, just enough to make his breath hitch. “i would’ve been patient. we could’ve taken it slow.”
heeseung groans softly, his hands gripping the fabric of the couch like he’s holding onto some semblance of control. you smile knowingly, watching the struggle on his face. but it’s not discomfort — it’s desire. you can feel it in the way his eyes refuse to leave yours, in the way his body reacts to the gentleness in your touch.
“i… i don’t want you to think less of me,” he mutters, barely audible, but you catch it anyway. “it’s just… with you, it’s always felt different.”
you gently trace your fingers up his chest, watching as his breath quickens. you’re giving him space to breathe, to process, and then you lean in, brushing your lips against his in a soft, teasing kiss.
“stop worrying about that,” you say quietly, your lips just barely touching his. “i don’t think less of you. if anything, you’re hotter right now than ever before.”
the vulnerability in his eyes shifts. he’s still nervous, but the weight is lifting. and for the first time in a while, you see him start to believe that he doesn’t need to hide anything from you.
then, you shift your focus, teasing him once more with a playful grin. “but you know, heeseung… i could help you with that. we could take this slow, maybe help you get comfortable with what it feels like to be with me. you trust me, don’t you?”
he nods, slowly, not trusting his voice. he’s ready. maybe more than he thought.
and you take that as your cue. you kiss him again, deeper this time, letting the heat between you grow. his body responds to you almost immediately. hands shifting from nervous to eager, pulling you closer as his mouth moves hungrily against yours.
“let me take care of you,” you murmur, your hands trailing down to his belt. this time, you don’t hesitate. you undo it slowly, giving him time to react, but he doesn’t stop you. instead, he leans back into the couch, peeling his shirt off, chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.
heeseung’s eyes search yours one more time, a silent question in them. you nod gently, giving him permission to be vulnerable, to trust you fully.
and when your hands pull his pants down, you can feel the heat of him, see the evidence of his desire. you take your time, enjoying the way he reacts to each touch, savoring the way he trembles under your hands.
you start by rubbing over his bulge when your eyes widen.
he just stares back at you, not blinking, but incredibly nervous. “is– is something wrong?” he stutters out.
“wrong? no, heeseung. you’re huge.”
he blushes and hides his face in his hands. his veiny hands. you’ll definitely need to put those to use later.
you softly drag his hands away from his face and tell him to never hide from you. you think he’s beautiful like this.
after he calms down, you look back into his eyes that resemble a deer, and he nods. signaling you to continue.
you finally trail your eyes down to his raging hard on, you can almost see it pulse.
his breath quickens the longer you take to begin touching him.
you start by teasing his swollen tip, arousal evident in the stain on his gray boxers. he sighs heavily, tipping his head back.
as you rub your hand down to his base, you get a feel for how thick he truly is.
he’s hard. aching. even at the slightest touch, his eyebrows furrow and he holds back soft groans.
you rip your hand off his clothed bulge. “if you want me to continue, you need to let me hear you, baby.”
that was his breaking point, he quickly nods his head yes looking at you with pleading eyes, “can you please touch me? it hurts.”
not wanting to tease him any longer, you rip his boxers off his thighs and his throbbing length slaps against his lower abdomen reaching just above his belly button. precum smears on his abs and you get the urge to lick it off.
so you do.
you gently move his dick away from his toned stomach, swiping your wet muscle along his abs, sucking to leave light marks.
the noises he makes are downright pornographic, and you think you’ll never be able to hear them enough.
moving your attention back to the hardness in your grasp, you begin to lick up his shaft, tracing each vein with the tip of your tongue. his head is still tipped back, frustrating you a bit because you want his attention on you.
so… in one swift motion, you take him down your throat until his tip hits the back. his head shoots up and he moans. loud.
heeseung is in heaven. the feeling of your throat constricting around his cock, he never wants you to pull off of him. he gently pulls your hair into a ponytail, hands shaking when you start moving.
his apartment is filled with filthy noises: wet, loud, and obscene.
he can hear and feel your gag reflexes kicking in but you don’t budge. you continue to move up and down, not wanting to stop until he cums.
his tipping point was you taking him even further down your throat, nose brushing his pelvis. he thought you were going to take a break for air but you didn't.
you stay.
swallowing around him.
the pressure in your jaw is almost unbearable but when you feel his thighs shaking, you know he’s close. and you need to ruin him.
hollowing your cheeks, you take him a bit deeper, hands coming up to play with his heavy balls. he can’t hold back anymore. the sensation of you taking his whole cock down your tiny throat and the stimulation of his balls in your hands. he groans.
desperate. low. deep
and spills down your throat. warm, wet, and sticky ropes, pour out of his tip. taking up all the space you had left, some spilling out from the corners of your mouth.
you swallow all that you can, then pull off from his dick.
heavy breathing is the only thing that can be heard. heeseung threw an arm over his eyes, chest heaving, trying to regain control of his senses.
meanwhile, you haven’t stopped clenching your thighs together.
you didn’t even notice you were staring until he clears his throat. he just looks so gorgeous all fucked out.
“wow. did you– swallow.. it?” he asks through pants.
you answer him like it was the most natural thing in the world, “yeah, because it was you”
he moans, again. and that’s when you notice he’s still hard, still aching.
as you move to straddle his lap, he grabs your thighs and wraps your legs around his waist. “not here, i want our first time to be special” he says softly, with a kiss to your temple.
he carries you to his bedroom on wobbly legs and gently lays you down on his bed, hovering on top of you. he plants wet kisses all over your face, trailing down to your neck, collarbones, until he reaches your covered chest.
looking at you with big, lust filled eyes, he waits for your green light. you nod and he fumbles with your shirt then bra clasp, eventually tearing the fabric away.
“you’re stunning,” he says completely awestruck by your half-naked form.
as he continues staring, he licks his lips, slowly lowering his head wrapping his soft lips around one of your perky buds.
you instinctively arch into his touch, one of his hands wrapping around your waist as his other hand gently kneads your other boob. soft gasps and whines slip from your lips as you try to grind up in search of any friction where you need it most.
he senses your desperate pleas and starts moving his body to slot between your legs, face in front of your clothed core. you wiggle your hips trying to convince him to speed up and touch you where you need it the most.
“can i…?” he practically begs, “yeah” you sigh as you relax into his plush sheets. he drags your sweats down your soft legs planting kisses along the inside of your thighs, all the way down to your calves. he makes his way to your panty clad pussy, pressing a soft kiss to your bundle of nerves aching for him.
you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before.
he looks so good between your thighs, you want this image ingrained into your brain forever.
he brings his thumb up to press on the wet spot that’s formed on your panties, groaning, “fuck, you’re so wet.”
“all for you.”
he replays those words in his head and his patience snaps. tearing your underwear in half, he wastes no time. tongue lapping and the wetness between your legs, like he’s been deprived of any liquid all his life.
you’ve never met someone this desperate to eat you out. or anyone for that matter.
he mumbles against your core, “guide me, please, wan’ you t’feel good, mmh.”
your hands take place in his silky soft roots, gently tugging on the strands.
through whimpers, you tell him to focus on your clit, and surprisingly (for a virgin), he finds it fairly quickly.
he briefly sucks on the nub, flicking it with his tongue to soothe it. “fuck, hee” you moan out into the space of his bedroom.
he groans against your pussy, carefully bringing up his fingers so he can push his tongue into your awaiting hole. the moment he starts fucking you with his tongue, you arch your back and grind into his face, needing more.
he heard his friends talking about “prep” and “stretching girls out,” so he wonders if you need to be stretched out to take him. you said he was huge, did you mean it? he has no idea, he’s a pathetic virgin who has only shoved his dick into his right hand. not even a pocket pussy or fleshlight.
to your dismay, he pulls away for a brief second asking if he should use his fingers. “please, i need you to stretch me out, i can’t– take you without prep,” you rush out feeling your high not far away.
“shit, okay baby,” he mutters back before bringing his middle finger up to spread your juices around.
your hips jerk up when he focuses on your clit, surprised by the stimulation.
slowly, he pushes his finger in, getting used to the warm sensation of your walls.
you clench around his thick digit, feeling fuller than when you finger yourself. as he pumps it in and out, you tell him to add another one and he does.
moaning in relief, you arch into his touch as his tongue finds its way back to your sensitive clit.
between him lapping like a dog and the feeling of two of his fingers pumping in and out of your tight hole, you feel a familiar band in your stomach building up.
your moans increase and heeseung feels dizzy, taking in all that you give.
he curves his fingers all while sucking on your bundle of nerves, causing you to tip over the edge and that band in your stomach to snap.
you come crashing down, chanting his name like a mantra as heeseung helps you ride out your high.
as you lift your head and meet his gaze, he looks more fucked out than you do. hooded eyes, tongue lolled out of his mouth, gaze consumed with lust. you pull him by the collar of his shirt until your lips collide in a mess of tongues and teeth.
your makeout session unfortunately doesn’t last long as heeseung starts whining into your lips.
that’s when you realize his cock found your bent knee, not so subtly grinding against it, trying to relieve some of the ache.
“feeling needy, are we?” you tease, earning a playful roll of the eyes from heeseung.
pulling back, you drink in his bare torso– he’s always been muscular as he was very popular with the ladies (until he got into bed with them).
dragging your hand up his chiseled abs, his stomach tenses and his dick twitches.
you found his second biggest weakness, besides you. his abs.
deciding to end the teasing there, since you’re also becoming increasingly impatient, you flip him over so you land on top of him with a quiet, “oof.”
as you settle your bare core on his rock solid cock, you start grinding, placing your hands on his chest for support.
he can’t hold back the guttural groans spilling from his mouth. not believing you’re really on top of him right now. this isn’t just one of his wet dreams.
he thought this couldn’t get any better, but when he struggles to get out a weak ask for a condom, you just respond with “no, i’m– on pill. need to feel you. all of you.”
and to that, he moans, not believing his ears.
it’s his first time. and he’s about to have sex with YOU. raw. he thinks he’s dreaming. there’s no way you’re real.
you gently angle his dick towards your awaiting hole, sinking down until his fat tip is inside you.
instantly, you both sigh in relief, starting to feel the pressure ease up.
if you feel a stretch at his tip entering you, you don’t know how you’re supposed to fit all of him inside you. he’s the biggest you’ve seen and he doesn’t even know it.
your attention is drawn back to the man consuming your brain when he whines. “m-more, please.” he’s becoming needier the longer you stay at just his tip but you don’t know how to tell him you’ve never taken a size like him before.
“hee-heeseung i need a sec, you’re– fuck. so thick,” you say between moans.
his grip on your hips tightens, a silent way of telling you to take your time.
when you finally deem yourself ready, you sink lower, wanting to speed it up, bracing the stretch to come.
you feel him pulsing inside you and that’s all you need to sink all the way down, him bottoming out inside you.
it’s his first time feeling anything other than his hand wrapped around him, and he whimpers, loud. it’s overstimulating in the best way possible and before he knows it you move up to his tip and bounce back down. his dick twitches and you feel it. every vein, every pulse, every movement, even his heavy breathing.
heeseung, not in control of his movements, bucks his hips up, making another non-existent inch to fit inside your stretched out core.
you moan soft and loud, eyes rolling back, as the pain turned into pleasure. bouncing faster on his girthy cock, you uncontrollably clench around him, causing heeseung’s grip to tighten. you know it’ll bruise tomorrow, but at the moment, he feels too good for you to care.
the room smells of sex, and the only sounds that can be heard are skin clapping and your shared noises.
heeseung must notice your legs becoming tired because before you know it, you’re flat on your back with heeseung on top of you, cock never slipping out from your pussy.
his large hands grab each of your thighs, pressing them to your chest.
his pace is slow at first, testing the waters, getting a feel for a rhythm.
as his hands stay pressed to your thighs, he slowly drags out and pushes all of his dick inside you.
you feel him deeper in this position, a bulge forming in your lower belly.
when he notices, his eyes stay glued there.
you wonder what he’s looking at but the moment you look down, you’re met with his hand pressing slightly on the bulge causing the loudest moan to leave your lips.
he signals you to hold your thighs as one of his hands holds himself up and the other focuses on how he can feel his dick inside your guts with every thrust.
his pace suddenly quickens when you clench hard around him, making his hips stutter briefly.
endless praises leave his pretty lips, telling you how good you feel, how hot you look laid underneath him, taking whatever he gives you.
feeling a familiar, yet new sensation building rapidly, you try to warn him that you’re close but somehow, he already knows. “i know baby, let go whenever you want.” he mutters back, feeling just as close to his high.
“fuck– where do you want it?” he rushes out, not wanting to cum inside you if that isn’t what you want.
but apparently, all the gods are smiling down on him as you release your thighs from the grip you had on them and wrap your legs around his waist. “inside,” you moan.
and at that, he cums. hard. ropes of his hot, gooey, cum spill inside you. tipping you over the edge.
with a loud groan, clear liquid comes rushing out from you, spraying all over his sheets and lower abdomen. soaking his dick.
heeseung moans. again. raw and unfiltered at the fact that you just squirted all over him (he’s seen enough porn and heard too many stories from your shared friend group to know what squirting is).
as you come down from your high, heeseung is somehow still cumming. it spills out of you, creating an even stickier mess on his bed. but he doesn’t care.
not when you’re beneath him, chest rising rapidly, trying to catch your breath.
heeseung’s cock is still lodged inside you, holding half of his cum inside you, not wanting it to go to waste.
as he collapses on top of you, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, holding your trembling body close to his.
you were the first to speak, “i didn’t even know i could do that,” talking about how you squirted all over him. “guess we both had firsts today,” he softly chuckles.
his breath is warm against your skin, his arm tightening just a little around your waist as if anchoring himself in the moment. you don’t respond right away, too caught up in the quiet thrum of your heartbeat, the lingering warmth between you, the way his fingers begin tracing gentle, absent-minded shapes against your spine.
“i didn’t expect it to be like this,” you murmur, your voice almost lost in the hush of the room.
“like what?” he asks, voice low, like he’s afraid to shatter the calm.
you shift slightly to face him, resting your head more comfortably on his chest. “soft. safe.”
Hheeseung lets out a breath that sounds like relief and something deeper, something reverent. “yeah,” he whispers. “me neither.”
for a while, neither of you say anything. he pulls the blanket higher over both of you, his other hand brushing your hair back with such tenderness that it makes your eyes sting. he presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering like he means it.
“you okay?” he asks, voice still rough from earlier, but softer now, like the edge of him has been smoothed by your touch.
you nod, then glance up at him. “are you?”
heeseung meets your gaze, and something in his expression shifts. vulnerability bleeding through the cracks he used to hide behind. “i am now.”
your heart squeezes.
he licks his lips, nervous. “i’ve been so stupid with you. all this time, i kept pushing and pulling, thinking maybe if i kept it messy, it’d be easier to walk away if i had to.” he pauses, his voice thinning. “but tonight just… made me realize i don’t want to walk away.”
your breath catches. “heeseung…”
“i don’t want this to be a one time thing,” he says, eyes searching yours. “not the sex, not the closeness. i want you. the fights, the tension, the way you drive me crazy and still somehow make me want to be better just by being around you. i’m so in love with you, it hurts.”
your lips part in surprise, and he laughs quietly, self-deprecating and shy. “too much?”
instead of answering, you lean up and kiss him, slow, deep, and full of all the things you couldn’t say until now. when you pull back, you rest your forehead against his, smiling as his thumb brushes over your cheek.
“i’m in love with you too, idiot.”
he grins, wide and a little teary-eyed, and pulls you closer like he’s never letting go.
and you know he won’t have to.
pls reblog & leave feedback <3 hope you enjoyed the read ◡̈
[ @jaeyuniversal ] prod. 250417
☆ horrendously down bad! heeseung x fem! reader ☆ summary: absolutely no one would have expected the dark, brooding, and rough heeseung lee to be hopelessly head over heels in love with the sweet, oblivious you. especially you. even with the help of practically the entire year, it's almost pathetic the way heeseung struggles to utter three, simple words to you, let alone look you in the eye. ☆ genre: fluff!!! pining, SUPER WHIPPED HEESEUNG, high school! au, non-idol! au, a lot of 01 liner idols + the rest of enha make appearances, btw this follows the asian school system, SO MUCH FLIRTING OMG, heeseung is kinda pathetic and awk ☆ warning(s)? swearing and dumb characters lol, there is one SA scene, but it is not graphic + very minor violence ☆ word count: 10.8k ☆ this is extremely based off of "danger" by bts, especially the lyric "you're cute, and i'm pathetic" lol enjoy!
Heeseung Lee was stressed.
No. He was distraught.
Distraught about how fucking cute you looked today.
Ever since he was a kid, Heeseung loved Halloween, because he loved Trick-or-Treating with his older brother and cousins. However now, at the age of seventeen, he found himself resenting it. Not because there was any issue with the holiday, but because today was Halloween.
From across the classroom, Heeseung found himself staring, all dazed and empty-headed, at you, who was clad in your cute bunny costume. The way the fluffy, white ears stuck out from the top of your head, as well as the fluffy white coat draped around your shoulders, made you look so soft and cozy and adorable. The way your nose crinkled as you laughed with your friends, sweet sounds coming from your lips as you threw your head back.
Were you real? How could anyone be so goddamn beautiful and not be an actual angel sent from above? What country did Heeseung save in his past life in order to get to be in your presence in this life?
"Dude, you're staring," a new voice interjected.
"What?" Heeseung tore his eyes away from you. "I wasn't."
Beomgyu Choi was one of Heeseung's classmates. And, like everyone else in their year, Beomgyu knew how enamored Heeseung was with you. Other than yourself, of course.
"I'm tellin' you," Beomgyu plopped down onto his seat, which was beside Heeseung's. He slid his chair so that he would be closer to his classmate, before throwing an arm around Heeseung. "You need to make a move. Like, now."
Heeseung glanced over at his classmate. If he ignored the fake blood on Beomgyu's chin, as well as the fake, plastic vampire teeth and the god-awful Spirit Halloween Dracula cape, he'd know that Beomgyu was 100% correct.
Everyone (and seriously, everyone) knew that Heeseung Lee had the biggest, juiciest, most obnoxious crush on you. In fact, your own friends had even tasked themselves with the job of putting in a good word for Heeseung, saying things like "Isn't he so cool?" into your ear to hopefully guide you straight into his arms. It's such a well-known fact that some of your teachers have purposefully placed you and Heeseung next to or near each other in order to help him with his more-than-obvious crush.
With such a big, school-wide effort, it should be expected that at least some progress was made.
Wrong!
Not even a single stroke of progress has been made.
Probably because there was one teensy, weensy, eensy, problem: Heeseung was an absolute mess around you. Heeseung was known as this tall, blunt, and rough guy at school. When he wasn't silently judging everyone, he hung out with his group of friends, who had a reputation for being delinquents. Heeseung Lee, clad in his iconic black leather jacket, was intimidating, and usually had no problem speaking up for himself. But around you? Absolutely not.
If anyone thought that Heeseung Lee could easily speak to you, they were out of their goddamn mind. There were too many instances where your classmates would push Heeseung and you together, only for him to blow it because he was completely incapable of looking you in the eye without turning red.
In Heeseung's defense, you were the most beautiful person in the world— How is he not supposed to get nervous?
"You know I can't," Heeseung murmured, clenching his fists.
Beomgyu rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Hee. What happened to banger Heeseung Lee? Heeseung Lee that beats up kids? I didn't think you'd be scared of talking to girls."
"First of all," Heeseung frowned, "I'm not a banger and I don't beat up kids. And also, I'm not scared of talking to girls."
His classmate quirked a brow. "Really?" Heeseung nodded. "Because the last time I remember, you could barely get a word out in front of [Name]."
At the sound of your name, Heeseung jerked in his seat, reaching out to grasp Beomgyu's arm. "Shhhh, don't say her name so loud!" he hissed, eyes quivering over to where you were with your friends.
"What?" Beomgyu looked around indiscreetly. "It's not a secret to anyone how you feel about [Name]."
"Shhhh! Shut up!"
When the bell rang, everyone scurried to their seat, and class began. As Beomgyu tuned out the sound of the teacher's voice, he couldn't help but notice the way Heeseung's eyes were completely glued to you. It was almost laughable, the way the boy's eyes were wide, staring at you like you were some god.
Oh god, Heeseung Lee was hopeless.
"Heeseung-hyung, are you free tomorrow?"
It was lunch time. Heeseung and his friends liked to hang around the rooftop of the school, because it was always empty. And plus, no one wanted to be where Heeseung and his friends were— they were too scary!
Heeseung looked at his younger Australian friend, Jake Sim (or Jaeyun Sim, as his official documents stated), who had just asked that question. Heeseung took a bite of the instant ramen that they bought from the vending machine.
"Yeah, why?"
"Good. Because you have a date with [Name] tomorrow."
Heeseung choked. As he coughed, his other younger friend, Sunoo Kim, let out a whine.
"Hyuuunggg!" Sunoo pouted. "Why'd you tell him?"
"It was supposed to be a surprise!" Riki Nishimura, the group's Japanese foreign exchange student friend, added, elbowing Jake in the ribs.
"Whatever," Jake crossed his arms. When Riki nudged him again, Jake opened his mouth to holler, "Jay, back me up!"
Jongseong "Jay" Park was another one of Heeseung's friends, probably the closest person to him.
"You guys know Heeseung-hyung is going to fuck it up either way, right?" Jay said. "Remember last time?"
"Yeah," Sunghoon Park joined in. "No matter how much we prepared him, Heeseung-hyung still acted like a fucking idiot."
"I'm right here!" Heeseung shouted, still hitting his chest to dislodge the ramen that he choked on.
Jungwon Yang, the seventh person in their friend group, put a hand on the older boy's shoulder, his lips lifting up into a half-teasing grin, revealing sharp canine teeth, "Hyung, don't listen to them. I think you'll really impress [Name] tomorrow."
It was Heeseung's turn to elbow Jungwon in the ribs.
When Heeseung finally finished coughing up a storm, his friends were already onto another topic, making plans for the next weekend.
"Hey, hey!" Heeseung grumbled. "Aren't you guys going to explain this so-called 'date with [Name]'?"
"What's there to explain?" Riki said. "You're going on a date with [Name]. End of story."
The eldest of the group's face contorted. "What are you guys even saying—"
"Well, it's not technically a date," Sunghoon said, taking a sip of his juice box. "You're, like, hanging out with [Name] though."
That still didn't answer Heeseung's question.
"When? Where? What time?" he spluttered, eager for answers.
Jake huffed exasperatedly. "Do we have to explain to you everything? It's not that deep, man."
Jungwon rolled his eyes. "Hyung, [Name]'s friends are the presidents of the Environment and Ecology Club, and there's a social tomorrow. It's like birdhouse painting, or something. [Name] is attending to support her friend, so we signed you up, too."
"Birdhouse painting?!" Sunoo's features morphed into confusion. "I thought they were making bracelets?"
"No, I thought there were weaving baskets?" Riki frowned.
"Whatever it is, it sounds lame as hell," Jay remarked.
Jungwon rolled his eyes again, earning a punch on his arm. "Whatever it is, it'll be a great opportunity for you to talk to [Name]."
The younger boy offered Heeseung a reassuring smile, only to receive a pensive one in return.
When classes resumed, Heeseung felt light-headed and distracted the entire time as he processed the fact that he was going to be around you tomorrow.
Oh god, he sounded like a total loser. Did the mere thought of being in your presence make him nervous? Yes, yes it did. You were just so pretty and sweet, he had no idea what to do. Poor boy, his teeth dug into his bottom lip, clammy palms pressing into the underside of his desk. His knee bounced, and there was absolutely no way that he could even make out a single word the teacher was saying.
Heeseung was going to pass out.
"Hey, Heeseung?"
That's your voice. It was so pretty and nice on his ears. Was he in heaven? He wouldn't be surprised if your voice was the voice of an angel.
"Heeseung?"
Heeseung was convinced that he was in heaven now. What he wouldn't do to hear your voice every second of his life.
"Heeseung!" another voice interjected. That's what snapped Heeseung out of his daze. Too deep in his head, Heeseung hadn't noticed that the class period ended, and the short passing period had already begun.
At his desk stood Yunjin Huh, Minjeong "Winter" Kim, and... oh my god... you. The three of you had somewhat matching Halloween costumes: Yunjin was a gray mouse, Winter was a cat, and you were a bunny. And now that he looked at it, you all were holding a bag of candy.
While your two friends were giving him the"Are you serious?" looks, you looked at him with wide, kind eyes.
"Heeseung?" your beautiful voice said, fingers reaching into the candy bag that you were holding. "Would you like candy?"
He stared at you. You were giving out candy to everyone in class because it was Halloween... You're such an angel... What did the world do to deserve you...
Winter stepped on Heeseung's foot, snapping him out of his daze once again. The boy let out a small yelp in pain, and as the embarrassment settled in, he heard you let out a small giggle, lips raising up to show off your teeth.
Oh my god, he was going to die.
"Y-Yeah," he stammered out, cursing himself internally. Heeseung couldn't help but feel everyone in class's gaze glued to him. When you handed him a piece of candy, your hand brushed up against his. Heeseung could feel his ears becoming hot, the warmth rising to his neck.
You smiled at him, before saying in a sing-songy voice, "Happy Halloween!"
Heeseung had to force himself not to stare like an absolute fool.
He was really hopeless.
hee: jay i don't think i can do it tomorrow
It was 2AM when Heeseung texted Jay. He spent the entire night thinking about the "date" (probably the least necessary word at the moment), and he simply couldn't sleep.
Heeseung had embarrassed himself too many times in front of you. Like that one time you and him were on cleaning duty together, and he was so distracted by you that he tripped over a bucket of water. Or that one time he sat next to you for a few weeks and his shoes kept squeaking against the floor, making it look like he was farting. Or when he tried to look cool and suave in front of you at some social your friends invited him to only to rip a hole in his pants. And then what happened today... He could not embarrass himself again.
hee: like i think i'm going to die if she sits next to me tomorrow
It was only a matter of seconds when his friend texted back.
jay: you'll be fine trust
Heeseung frowned.
hee: stop lying to me
hee: you know how i am around her
jay: i believe in you
jay: like srsly
hee: that's blind faith
Jay typed for a little bit, before stopping altogether. Heeseung huffed. Did his friend just leave him on read? A few minutes later Jay sent a Wikihow article.
'How to talk to your crush,' it was aptly named. Heeseung deadpanned.
hee: are you being fr right now
jay: give [name] your sexy heeseung charm and you'll be walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her in no time
jay: read the article btw
How was this guy an actual person?
hee: kill yourself
jay: give her that passionate, sexy, boiling hot, hotter-than-the-sun, steaming hot heeseung that makes her just want to come up to you and give you the fattest, juiciest kiss on the mouth, i know you can do it soldier
hee: DIE
Heeseung couldn't sleep all night.
At school, the entire day was just plagued with anxiety for what was to come. It didn't help that your friends kept turning around and giving him knowing looks throughout the day. When school finally let out, Heeseung went to the classroom where the birdhouse-painting-bracelet-making-basket-weaving social would be held. His friends told him to go there the moment that school ended, but when he came, there was literally no one there.
Until someone yanked him into the classroom.
"Hey!-" he yelped, before the door slammed. In front of him stood two people that he recognized: Sumin Bae and Sieun Park, two of your friends who also coincidentally were the co-presidents of the Environment and Ecology club.
Sumin cocked a brow at him, crossing her arms. "I hope you're not as hopeless as everyone says you are."
Heeseung opened his mouth to respond, but Sieun cut him off.
"Ugh, that doesn't matter," she pinched her nose-bridge. "We told [Name] to sit near the front, so you better sit there, too."
"Right-"
Sumin cut him off, too.
"[Name]'s favorite color is pink, and her favorite Sanrio character is Keroppi," Sumin asserted. "And she really likes things that are cute, so like fruit patterns, hearts, stars, yada yada."
Heeseung blinked at them. "And this is relevant how...?"
Sumin and Sieun shared a look.
"You are completely hopeless."
As it turned out, they were giving him details about design-elements that you liked, so that Heeseung could somehow impress you with his birdhouse painting abilities (Jungwon was right, it was birdhouse painting). After info-dumping on him, they kicked him out of the classroom to actually prepare for the social.
As Heeseung was pushed out of the classroom, he bumped into someone. Just as he was about to say, "Watch where you're going," he realized that it was you.
"Oh, hi, Heeseung!" you greet him cheerfully, your eyes pressing into thin slits as you smile.
Quick! What does he do? "Hi... [Name]."
"Are you here for the social, too?" The way your eyes gazed at him made him feel shy already.
"Y-Yeah...."
"I didn't know you were interested in the Environment and Ecology club..." You remarked, and Heeseung panicked— Was it obvious that he was here exclusively for you?— but what you said next made him sigh in relief. "That's great! I'm so happy that I finally have someone familiar with me here!"
He's going to faint.
When the social began, you invited him to sit next to you. Heeseung felt stiff as he sat beside you, watching the way that you happily painted your small, wooden birdhouse. Heeseung wanted to start a conversation with you, but each time he thought of something to say, his voice caught in his throat. Sumin and Sieun had given him two dirty looks already, so he needed to make a move now or their efforts would be in vain.
"W-What's that?" he finally stuttered out, pointing to the glob of green on your birdhouse.
You laugh airily, leaning closer to him so that he can see it better. "Can you guess?"
Heeseung tries to concentrate on guessing, but it's hard when you're close to him. Quick! What's green and something that you like?
"Is that... K-Keroppi?"
"Yeah!" Your face lit up, flashing him a cheeky grin. You nudged him with your elbow, raising your brows at him playfully. "Awww, Hee, you smarty pants! How'd you know?"
Hee?
OhmygodohmygodohmygodyoucalledhimHee.
You stopped laughing, pulling away from him. "Sorry, do you not like being called Hee? Beomgyu sometimes calls you that, so I thought-"
"No, I like it!" Heeseung blurted, a little louder than he wanted to, earning a few questioning looks from people around him. The boy felt abnormally warm, embarrassed at his outburst. "I-I'm okay with you calling me that..."
"Noted!" you said, before your lips curled upward. "Now... are you going to tell me how you could tell that this green blob was Keroppi?"
"Oh uhm..." Heeseung's lips were moving faster than his head, "Y-You dressed up as Keroppi last year for Halloween with Yunjin."
Almost like you were a cartoon character, you perked up at his statement. "You remember?"
Of course he did. How could he forget? You wore a cartoonishly-big red bow around your neck like Keroppi, and had a green Keroppi-style headband. You looked adorable, especially when you went around showing off a Keroppi keychain that you got at the Cinnamoroll Cafe in Hongdae to anyone that was willing to listen.
Heeseung found himself chuckling. "Of course I'd remember your massive red bow."
You stared at him for a few moments, before a bashful grin broke out on your face. You then buried your face in your hands, letting out a groan. "Ughhhh, that's so embarrassing!"
"How?"
It's going good so far, Heeseung thought. Just don't mess it up!
You pouted cutely, your bottom lip jutting out. In the light, he could see the gloss shining off of it so prettily. "My makeup was so fucked up last year, ughhh, it looked so bad."
You? Look bad? Impossible.
"What are you talking about?" Heeseung asked, his doe-like eyes scanning your embarrassed face. "I thought you looked cute."
You stared at him. It took a few pulses for Heeseung to realize what he just said. His face instantly turned three shades warmer and panic was evident in his expression.
"I-I mean— You jus—You were really—"
He shut his mouth when you began laughing. Laughing so hard that you clutched onto his knee, keeling over yourself. His cheeks burned.
You're laughing at him, aren't you? Did he fuck up?
When you noticed the sulky expression on his face, you stopped laughing.
"Sorry, Hee," you said, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze. "It's just... You look so intimidating, when you're really just a sweetheart."
If Heeseung was red before, he was quietly literally the color of a tomato. It was a wonder that the entire room’s temperature didn’t rise given the sheer amount of heat radiating off his person.
"A s-sweetheart?"
"Yeah!" you happily respond. "You're just the cutest, y'know? Like a little puppy."
As much as Heeseung wanted to die happily now that you called him cute, he needed to keep this conversation going. Sucking in a sharp breath, the boy looked at you in the eyes. "W-Well I think the same about you... [Name]."
You looked at him curiously, so he continued, his voice soft and sheepish, "I... also think that you're the cutest."
You blinked at him a few times, before the widest smile that he'd ever seen spread across your cheeks, stretching ear to ear. If only Heeseung wasn't too busy grappling with his shyness, he'd notice the way you let out a soft, bashful giggle, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut to keep yourself from being too visibly flustered. Slowly, with all the courage that you had left in you, you raised your hand and placed it on Heeseung's head. You ruffled his soft locks, gushing, "God, you're so cute, Heeseung!"
The rest of the social is filled with soft chatter between the two of you, but Heeseung was honestly too captivated by you to notice the time passing. With his heart on his sleeve, and a sloppily-painted birdhouse in his hands, Heeseung mentally high-fived himself.
Heeseung's friends never heard the end of it. The moment that he got home, Heeseung spammed their groupchat, giving them paragraphs and paragraphs of the events that ensued.
hee: and then she called me cute. like CUTE CUTE, not even like she was alluding it, she used the word CUTE
hee: oh my god i think i'm gonna faint
His friends don't have it in them to flame him. After all, this was progress.
Unbeknownst to him, you were feeling the same things. Everyone knew that Heeseung liked you, except yourself. You had the opposite case: you've had the biggest crush on Heeseung since middle school, but never told a single soul about it. You're a naturally expressive and sweet person, so it was so incredibly hard hiding your feelings for him.
After all, under that handsome and brooding outer shell, you saw his softness. This past year, you've had so many miscellaneous interactions (at least, it seemed miscellaneous-- everyone but you knew that those interactions were set up) with Heeseung. At the beginning of each interaction, he'd act all mysterious, but as time passed, he'd speak so softly and slowly unravel.
It was so, so cute. Heeseung was so cute. To say you wanted him would be an understatement. No words were sufficient to fully express the nights that you stayed awake thinking about him, or the makeup looks that you intricately practiced to impress him, or the sheer number of times that you had to hide the fact that you were staring at him.
Maybe you couldn't hide it any longer.
"Wait, what?!"
Heeseung's heart dropped to his stomach the moment he heard the words leave his friend's lips. Chenle Zhong was one of you and Heeseung's mutual friends, and according to him, someone had confessed to you via a letter today.
"Are you serious?" Heeseung asked, pulling his bottom lip into his teeth, chewing pensively. "Do you know who wrote it?"
"Nope, but I'll try to get more info on it," Chenle frowned. "Yunjin says that [Name] laughed at the letter."
When Heeseung didn't say anything, Chenle continued. "Hey, man, that could be a sign, y'know?"
When Heeseung's face morphed into a confused expression, his friend added, "Like, maybe [Name] thinks it's a joke? Maybe she doesn't care for it."
That's what Heeseung hoped for.
Later, Chenle texted him a screenshot of the love letter. To say that Heeseung was appalled would be an understatement. The letter read,
'To my dearest [Name], you're as beautiful as the plum blossoms in the spring. Your lips are soft like pillows, pillows that I would love to fall into an eternal in. I love you, I love you, I'll love you until this paper decomposes and becomes a part of the earth, and maybe then they will be able to force me to forget you. Love, your admirer.'
Heeseung immediately sent it to his groupchat.
jakey: yo who invited shakespeare???
hoon: i had a stroke reading that
sunoo: "your lips are soft like pillows" is crazyyy
hee: chenle gave me updates, apparently [name] knows who the sender is
jay: AND WHO IS THE SENDER??
hee: i don't know
hee: but minjeong says that it's someone from class 2
niki: class 2 is full of snobs
jungwon: i'm still in shock because of "i'll love you until this paper decomposes"
hoon: WHAT IF IT'S JUNGSU HYUNG
niki: oh it's SO over for you heeseung-hyung
As it turned out, it was not, in fact, Jungsu Kim from Class 2, thanks to your friends, who were quite wonderful info-brokers. But he still didn't know who it was.
Laying in bed, Heeseung felt weight on his chest. You laughed at the letter. While that could mean that it was a joke, it could also mean that you thought the person writing the letter was funny... which could mean that you liked them back. Just the mere thought of you with someone else made Heeseung frown deeply. This entire time he was worried about how to act around you, completely ignoring the fact that you yourself could be interested in someone else! God, he was so stupid.
Heeseung needed to know who it was that sent it, and more importantly, if you were romantically interested in them.
Fear makes man do crazy things.
Like walking one's crush to school.
Look, Heeseung was mulling over the situation as he walked to school, when he saw you across the street, walking in the same direction as him. In what could only be called an adrenaline-high, Heeseung ran across the street up to you.
"[Name]!" he called out.
"Heeseung?—Oh my god!"
Poor boy was breathless, flushed in the face. It took him a few moments to catch his breath. Flashing you a grin, Heeseung said, "Let's walk to school together, [Name]."
You're silent for a few moments, before you return the smile. "Of course."
The walk was silent, only the sound of early morning traffic, footsteps against the concrete sidewalk, and the occasional sniffle courtesy of you filling the cold air between the two of you. Speaking of which, your sniffles began to get louder and more frequent. Now out of adrenaline, Heeseung was back to being shy.
Clearing his throat, Heeseung forced his voice out. "Are you— Are you sick?"
You sniffled again, bringing your hand up to swipe your nose. The two of you were at an intersection now, so you pressed the pedestrian button. "No, I just get sniffly when it's cold."
That's. So. Cute. Was what Heeseung was thinking. The way you were rubbing your hands together made you look so adorable, he just wanted to put you in his pocket.
He must have been staring at you for a while, back in his you-loving daze, because Heeseung did not notice that the streetlight changed, and it was time for the pedestrians to pass.
Not to worry!
Heeseung was completely kicked out of his daze when your smaller hand grabbed his, pulling him along the street. His eyes were glued to the two of your hands, especially where they connected. For someone sniffly, your hands were warm. He liked the way that they fit in his.
Even in the cool morning air, Heeseung suddenly felt warm all over.
You were in the middle of the sidewalk when Heeseung stopped. Feeling bold, he dropped his schoolbag, and began slipping off his thick, black, leather jacket, before draping it over your shoulders.
When you looked up at him with those curious doe eyes, all his boldness went away.
"Y-You're cold aren't you?" He avoided looking you in the eyes. "Just... Just take it. Y-You can give it back later... or whatever."
You giggled, slipping your arms into the sleeves.
God, you looked so cute in his jacket. Heeseung was going to melt.
And he did melt, because you began doing cute twirls to show off the jacket, posing for him.
"How do I look?" you cheekily asked, popping your leg up.
Heeseung was speechless, his mouth just left agape. He had to force himself to speak.
"Cute..." he answered, barely audible.
A grin was growing on your face. "Sorry, I didn't hear you. How do I look?"
Heeseung squeezed his eyes shut, huffing. "I said you looked cute!"
The sight of Heeseung's pink cheeks and his cute little pout was enough for you to be satisfied. Before the boy could realize what he said, you picked up his school bag for him, shoving it into one of his hands, before snatching his free hand. You pulled him gently to continue walking, but Heeseung was frozen in place, eyes too busy on you.
"Heeeeee," you elongated your syllables. You squeezed his hand twice, tugging him again. "We can't be late to class, can we?"
Heeseung audibly gulped. "Y-Yeah. You're right.."
You guys began walking again, neither of you wanting to let each other’s hands go.
"And then she held my hand— Isn't that crazy?! She held my hand!"
"Heeseung-hyung, please, I am peeing right now."
It was the lunch period once again. As Heeseung and Sunghoon traversed the hallways to get to the stairwell, the older of two chatted about the events that morning.
"So you held her hand?" Sunghoon asked half-heartedly, barely listening. "And then what?"
Heeseung perked up. "And then we walked to class together, and then she—"
"That's cool and all," the younger friend was walking in front of him. Sunghoon turned over his shoulder. "But did you get any more information about the letter fiasco?"
Oh.
No, Heeseung didn't.
When they reached the rooftop, his friends gently nudged him to get more information about the letter.
"You don't want to have one of those 'too late' moments, right?" Jungwon said, chewing on his rice ball. "What if by the time you gather the courage to talk to her, [Name] is already walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her secret admirer?!"
"What's with you guys and walking off into the sunset..." Heeseung muttered, running a hand through his hair.
"I'm serious, hyung!"
"I second that," Jay said lazily.
"I second that," Riki mocked in a squeaky voice, earning him a soft smack at the back of his head.
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Heeseung asked, frustrated. "I can talk to her or her friends later, but not right now."
Jake scoffed. "What's stopping you from going back inside and talking to [Name] right now?"
The eldest boy didn't have an answer. That's true. There wasn't anything stopping Heeseung from talking to you right now. All the boys were now watching him for an answer, ready to pounce on him for being a coward.
"I don't know!" Heeseung finally said. "I've used up all of my bravery today... I don't think I have it in me to talk to her!"
His friends stared at him questioningly, until the silence was broken by Sunoo taking a loud and very obviously fake phonecall.
"Hi! Yes! Mhm. He's right here. Yeah. Mhm. Thank you!"
Sunoo hung up loudly, and looked at Heeseung with a cocked brow. "I was just on the phone with Yunjin. She says you should probably go talk to [Name]."
Heeseung looked at Sunoo incredulously, but the expectant expressions on his friends' faces made him groan.
"Fine!"
As Heeseung creeped down the school hallway, he came to the classroom that you hung out in at lunch: your homeroom. Standing outside the door, the boy took a deep breath.
Relax, it's just [Name], he had to tell himself, as if that helped at all. What was he even going to say?
'Hey, are you dating the person that sent you that letter? If you aren't, do you want to get married to me? Haha.'
????
Just as Heeseung was about to slide the door open, he heard a very familiar laugh from inside. Of course he could recognize it. After all, it was you.
"Yuri is so cute!" he heard you giggle. "She wrote me that little letter as a joke, but I think I'm actually in love with her."
In.
Love.
With.
Her.
"Awww, Yuri, come here and give me a kiss!"
Come.
Give.
You.
A.
Kiss.
"I'm gonna marry you, Yuri!"
Marry.
You.
Yuri.
To Heeseung, everyone was an enemy. No matter their gender or class, the moment that he heard that you got a love letter, everyone became a suspect. It all made sense now. Yuri Jo, the 'Yuri' that you were talking about and to, was from Class 2. He knew that you and her were friends, but he didn't know that you were romantically interested in her.
Jungwon was right. Now you were going to walk off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her!
hee: guys what if [name] is already taken :(
jakey: what are you on about this time
There was something scary about a 6-feet tall guy mulling around and sulking all day, so luckily no one got in Heeseung's way as he brooded. Unfortunately, he felt his heart hurt whenever he looked at you. Almost cartoonishly, he'd turn away, close his eyes in dramatic pain, and pout. Although he acted a little bit theatrical, it was no doubt that Heeseung felt sad. He really thought he had a chance with you, and now he felt stupid.
Except, he was stupid.
But for a different reason.
"Jesus Christ, you're actually hopeless, Heeseung."
After school, your friends cornered him, somewhere where you wouldn't see. His friends were somehow in close communication with your friends.
"I can't believe you thought me and [Name] were actually dating!"
Heeseung scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, as he leaned against a locker. Before him stood Yunjin, Winter, Yuri, along with a few other of your friends, Hitomi and Minju.
"I don't know!" Heeseung huffed. "Everyone is an enemy to me—” he glanced at Yuri— “Including Yuri.”
Yunjin scoffed in disbelief. "You're insane."
Soooo... You weren't in any romantic relationship with anyone. Yuri sent you that letter as a joke, and you were just really close to her. Good.
"I don't know how I feel about this guy getting with our [Name]," Winter muttered to Hitomi and Minju, but loud enough for Heeseung to hear.
"Hey!"
"I know, he's a total dumbass," Minju grumbled back.
"Dude, I'm right here!"
Hitomi rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Well, are you free on Friday after school?"
"Yeah, why?" They always asked Heeseung that question when they had some crazy plan up their sleeve. Not like he was any better.
"Wellll," Hitomi began in a sing-songy voice. "[Name] really wants to go to that Cinnamoroll Sweet Cafe in Hongdae on Friday, but none of us are available."
Heeseung nodded slowly.
"I think it'd be a good way for you to get closer to her, dontcha think?"
And that's how Heeseung scored his first (unofficial) date with you
When your friends told you that Heeseung would accompany you to Hongdae, you almost jumped for joy. Almost. Friday couldn't come any faster. The plan was that you'd meet Heeseung at the train station at 4:30PM, meaning that you had a bit of time to change and get ready. You didn't want to get too ahead of yourself and call it a date, but oh boy did you want to.
What were you going to wear? What if you were too formal? Should you go for a casual look or something more put-together? You needed to impress him!
When Friday came, you practically ran home to get ready. You perfected your makeup, and put on your prettiest outfit. Spraying yourself with your signature perfume, you looked in the mirror. Hopefully, he'll like how you look.
At the corner of your eye, you spot a black, leather jacket. His black, leather jacket. Without even thinking, you slinked toward it, slipping into the jacket. It smelled like him, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the leather.
With a final glance in the mirror, you left for the train station.
On the other hand, to say that Heeseung was nervous for the date was an understatement. His heart was about to fall out of chest. He changed into something more casual, made sure to brush out his disheveled hair, and reapplied his cologne. He came to the train station 20 minutes early, just in case something went terribly wrong. He glanced at his phone. For the date, he managed to get a hold of your number, for “communication purposes.” He’d wanted to text you all week, but didn’t have the courage to.
“Hee?” your soft voice calling his name got his attention. Behold, you standing there before him, all dolled up and pretty. This must be the sight he’ll see when he enters heaven, he thought.
“Hi,” he said, his eyes glazing over your face. You were so pretty. Did you dress up for him? He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but the idea that you wanted to look good for him made Heeseung’s heart skip a beat. “You look…”
He didn’t mean to say that. You smile bashfully. “I look…?”
“So pretty,” Heeseung breathed. “You look so pretty.”
“Thank you,” you smile. Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt, playing with it, which sends his heart racing. “Well, I think you look handsome, Hee.”
“Th-Thanks.”
The two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments, and Heeseung swears that you’re looking at his lips. You spoke up, breaking the silence. “You notice anything about me?”
Heeseung grasped the collar of his jacket gently with both hands. “My jacket.”
“I was going to give it back to you earlier,” you begin, eyes trained on his lips, “But I think I’ll keep it for today, yeah? Since I look so pretty in it.”
“Oh fuck,” Heeseung cursed under his breath, loud enough for you to hear it and giggle. “Yeah, you can keep it for as long as you want.”
“As long as I want?” you purred, taking a step closer to him. Although it wasn’t clear to anyone else, you were a mess inside. Your heart was palpitating so hard that you could hear it in your ears. Your throat felt dry, and your hands were shaking with mere anxiety and excitement. “What about forever?”
Heeseung cracked a grin. “Do whatever you want. You’re pretty.”
If it wasn’t for the train announcement, you thought you would have kissed his pretty lips right then and there. Taking Heeseung’s hand, you led him to your train cart.
“Let’s go, Hee.”
The train is much more packed than you expected, but it was the beginning of the weekend after all. The trip from Gyeonggi Province to Hongdae should take no less than an hour. Unfortunately, because of the amount of people in the train, you and Heeseung had to stand for the majority of the time. It should have been uncomfortable, but it simply wasn't. Because you were with Heeseung.
Standing only a few inches away from the boy, your chests almost pressed against each other. You could feel his breath fan your cheeks. The both of you held onto the pole, hands barely brushing against each other when the cart shook against the rails.
At some point, the shaking was a lot more aggressive than it had previously been. Instinctively, your hand reached for his broad shoulders for stability. Likewise, Heeseung reached for your waist, holding you in place. You and Heeseung shared a long, drawn-out look, eyes getting lost in one another's, before you both avert your gazes shyly, muttering, "sorry." Yet, neither of you moved your hands from their newfound positions.
As minutes passed on the train, your eyes were glued to Heeseung, at least when he wasn't watching.
You loved the reddish blush that naturally decorated his under-eyes, and the natural corally red at tinted the tip of his ears. His glossy eyes and heart-shaped lips had to be your favorite feature of his, if not for his large, yet delicate hands, so gentle and soft.
You were deep in thought when you suddenly felt a hand creeping on your leg. Nimble fingers from behind, brushing up against the hem of your dress. From the corner of your eye, you saw an older man. He looked unkempt and scruffy, like a delinquent– but nothing like Heeseung. Heeseung looked much better than him.
The man reeked of cigarettes and musk. A nasty grin spread across his face as he peered down at your exposed legs. His hands creeped toward them again, now slightly pushing your dress up. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your entire body stiffening. Your heart began to pound in your chest, your cheeks and skin feeling hot.
Panic overtook your system. Your once soft breaths became much shorter and quicker, inhaling and exhaling shallow air.
You’ve never been in a situation like this; you’d never wished, thought, or even considered something like this happening to you– why would you? You had no idea what to do, and were not at all prepared for this. The train was packed to the brim, this man was much bigger and stronger than you, and you did not know how to fight.
The hand moved past your skirt, now under it and directly in contact with your skin. The hand felt dirty, brushing against you. A small frantic whimper escaped your lips when the man’s hand squeezed your bare thigh. It was a small sound, barely audible in the vast bustle of the subway. However, someone did hear it.
Heeseung, doe-eyed and lost in his own world, immediately darted his eyes over to you the moment he heard a sound of discomfort.
When your eyes met, you could only signal helplessly. Your gaze was wide, pupils dilated, with fear and panic. Heeseung’s eyes narrowed, staring into your eyes for a moment before analyzing your expression. The way you were extremely tense and overwrought casted a sense of suspicion in his head, and your eyes that were seemingly pleading him made him think.
Help, your eyes said.
Heeseung’s dark eyes flickered from your face, to your entire body language, and back to your face, before he spotted a few, foreign fingers creeping around your leg area.
Your shifty eyes kept moving from Heeseung’s to the side, but now that he looked at it, it was like they were pointing behind you. And lo and behold, behind you was a musky pervert, who was shamelessly touching you.
“[Name]…” he whispered. His fists clenched, teeth gritting. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling anger build up in his stomach. You whimpered again in response. He brought a hand to ghost over your shoulder, pushing you very, very, gently to the side. “Move.”
He wound up his fist and sent the hardest punch he could muster to the man square in the jaw.
The man lurched back immediately, his hand moving far, far, away from you. A groan left his lips, his head being thrown back in pain. The man’s fall had pushed a few other people down as well. Other bystanders watched on in shock. Some took out their phones to record and take pictures, others to tell their friends.
You just stood still, leaning into Heeseung, whose fist was a faint red color. With a very careful hand, he brushed the lifted hem of your dress down, which had been messed with earlier.
The man quickly got up once he noticed the new and tense silence over the subway cart.
“Hey!” he shouted, pushing himself up from his downtrodden position. “You little punk, who the fuck do you think you-”
The train announcer called for the stop. Heeseung, ignoring the man, took your arm, pulling you out the door. Before he himself left, Heeseung landed a kick to the man’s crotch, muttering, “Fucking bastard.”
"W-Wait, Hee-!"
Heeseung was silent as the train doors opened, only pulling you along with him. When the two of you were far from the train, he finally stopped, turning to you.
"Are you okay?" was all he asked. You shifted uncomfortably at the thought of what happened earlier.
"Y-Yeah..." you played with the hem of his jacket sheepishly. "Thanks for what you did back there."
Heeseung jolted up at the mention. He didn't love using violence, despite his 'delinquent' reputation, especially in front of you. His hands joined yours at the hem of his jacket, shyly brushing up against yours.
"Next time," he began, beginning to play with the zipper, "I'll fight every person on that train so that you can sit."
You smiled softly. "You don't have to do that, Hee."
Heeseung slowly zipped up his jacket on you, meeting your eyes, before straightening out your collar.
"But I want to," he breathed. You gazed at him. His hands were still on the collar of the jacket, close to your face. You noticed the red smudges on his knuckles from punching the man on the train. You took that hand, opening it up, and nuzzling your cheek into it. You took his other hand. To Heeseung's surprise, you pressed soft kisses on his knuckles, rubbing them with your thumb.
"What are you..." his breath hitched when your eyes flickered to his, holding steady eye-contact.
You pressed one last kiss on his palm. "Thank you, Hee. Really."
"Of course, [Name]," he finally whispered. "Anything for you."
And so, your first date with Heeseung began.
The sweet scent of cinnamon and pastries hit your noses the moment you guys stepped into the Cinnamoroll Cafe. When you were seated, you took a look at the menu. So far, the date was going smoothly. Other than the run-in at the beginning, the chemistry between the two of you was sparking. The conversation was flowing, and if that already wasn't a dream come true, you kept touching Heeseung. On your end, you were practically vibrating in your seat with the sheer amount of excitement you had bubbling in you. You couldn't believe you were on a date with the Heeseung Lee sharing a strawberry banana parfait.
"Hee," you said, motioning him to come closer to you. He did, so you cupped his cheek, bringing your thumb up to wipe a stray piece of the parfait from his cheek.
"Oh-" Heeseung's face reddened. How embarrassing! Did you think he was a slob now? You only giggled, bringing both hands up to hold his face. You squished the boy's cheeks, laughing at the way his brows cutely crashed into each other.
"You're so cute, Hee," you said, playing with his cheeks. "The cutest."
That's all you, he thought. You're going to drive him crazy.
Or, at least he thought he thought.
Did he just say that out loud? Heeseung groaned when you threw your head back laughing, hiding his own face in your palms. You chuckled.
Feeling bold, you cupped his cheeks again. You leaned closer, holding his face close to yours. You kissed a soft and chaste kiss on his nose. You couldn't help the heat that rose to your cheeks as the boy flopped over the table, hiding his face in his arms. You ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly, cooing at his cuteness.
"You can't do this to me," Heeseung murmured.
You laughed. It wouldn't hurt to tease him a little more, right? You leaned down, giving the boy another kiss. This time, though, you kissed the top of his head.
"Hee, baby, you're just the cutest, you know that right?"
Heeseung combusted.
After the Cafe, Heeseung and you walked around the Hongdae Festival Street. By now, it was beginning to get darker outside, the air cooling down. It was cold, but to Heeseung, it was perfect, because now he had an excuse to hold your hand. As the two of you walked and talked, you enjoyed the sight of the lights and bustling street.
Suddenly, a new voice interrupted the two of you's conversation. Turning around, you saw two guys who looked around your age. They were holding a camera and a microphone.
"Hi!" they said, smiling. "We're interviewing couples in Hongdae, would you guys like to be in it? We’ll blur your faces."
Heeseung glanced your joined hands, then back at the two guys, then back at your hands, "O-Oh, we're not a coupl—"
You cut him off. "Of course, we'd love to!"
You flashed Heeseung a grin, squeezing his hand twice, almost as if to say, 'Just go with it.' His ears began to burn, his neck prickling with warmth, before clearing his throat. "Y-Yeah..." he squeezed your hand, "We'd love to."
The two guys cheered, turning on their camera. "All right, first question. How did you guys meet?"
"We went to middle school together," you were quick to answer. "I thought he was really cute, but we didn't start talking until this year."
You didn't know what the fuck you were saying. Was it risky to be so truthful for an internet interview, right in front of your long-time crush? Absolutely. But your heart was pounding so hard in your chest, simply waiting for Heeseung's response.
On the other hand, Heeseung's mind was in complete shambles. Were you telling the truth? The way you answered so smoothly with absolutely no hesitation made it almost seem natural.
"And you?" the interviewer asked. "What did you think about her when you first met?"
"I—" Heeseung's breath hitched. "I thought she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen."
The way you glanced at him made Heeseung's heart feel like it was about to fall out. "I.. I still think that."
Your expression was unreadable, your lips pressing into a thin line. Then, a huge smile broke out on your face.
"Awww, Heeeee! I didn't know you thought about me like that!" You squeezed his hand again, and he squeezed it back.
"How long have you guys been together?" the interviewer asked.
"We just started dating!" You answered enthusiastically, a weird, surprised sound coming from Heeseung.
The rest of the interview went smoothly, with you mostly answering the questions. You quietly thanked the interviewers, and you and Heeseung were on your way.
Your words kept ringing in Heeseung's head.
Especially your answer to the question, "Why did you like him?"
You answered, "Because he's so perfect."
Heeseung? Perfect? He couldn't believe his ears! Were you telling the truth?
A calm silence fell over you and Heeseung as you walked the bustling streets of Hongdae. That question lingered in his mind, and before he knew it, his mouth was moving faster than his mind.
"Did you mean anything you said?"
His voice seemed to reverberate against the night air, ringing in his ears. You chewed on your lip. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath.
"Of course, Hee," you finally answered. "If it's you, I mean everything."
Heeseung sucked his bottom lip into his teeth, biting down so hard he drew blood. Once again, his hands found home on the hem of his jacket draped over you.
"Good." He couldn't meet your eyes, not with the knowledge that you meant everything you said. He forced his attention onto the hem of the leather jacket that you were wearing, too shy to look at you.
Heeseung only looked up when he felt your thumb pressing against his lip, eyes widening.
"Don't bite your lip too hard, Hee," you said, a smile in your voice. You thumb swiped against his lip, wiping off the small blotch of blood on it. "You'll bleed, and I'll have to kiss it better."
Heeseung's tongue darted out to swipe over his bleeding lip, brushing against your thumb. "What if I want you to kiss it better?"
"Well, then you better not keep me waiting."
His eyes flickered to your lips. He wanted to kiss them so bad. They looked so soft. What would they taste like? You liked strawberries— maybe they'd taste like that. When he didn't say or do anything, you changed the topic, unable to hide the disappointment in your face.
"Did you mean it?" You asked. "When you said that I was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen?"
"Oh my god, yes," Heeseung said under his breath, eyes still trained on your lips. "Always."
Another silence fell of you two, simply getting lost in each other's eyes. Maybe it was something in the Hongdae air, but Heeseung felt brave. His hand slithered to your waist, bringing you closer to him. When you slid your hands up his chest, resting them on his shoulders, Heeseung audibly gulped. Your faces inched closer and closer, until you could feel his breath against your cheek. You wanted to lean in and close the gap so bad. And you could tell that he wanted to, too.
Just as you were about to, however, the sound of a car honking and tires screeching interrupted you. Heeseung instinctively pulled away, his head whipping around to look at the commotion.
Oh hell no.
You were not going to let that stop you.
You snatched Heeseung's hand, before pulling him with you. You don't know how much you ran, or for how long, but you ran and ran until you found an empty alleyway.
You pushed him against the hard, concrete wall, a bit harsher than you expected too. Holding him by his shoulders, you put all your weight on him, caging him against the wall.
"You'd let me kiss you, right?" you rasped, out of breath.
Heeseung, also breathless, stared at you, lips parted.
"I thought I already said," he breathed, "Do whatever you want. You're pretty."
With that, you crashed your lips onto his. His lips were soft, a little chapped. It felt so surreal. The scent of his cologne made you feel dizzy. When you pulled away, it was evident that he was feeling the same as you were.
It was a chaste kiss, but the tension was so thick in the air. Somehow, that made it even more intimate.
"Wow..." was all Heeseung could utter. Under the moonlight, with you pressed up against him, you looked so goddamn pretty. Your face was illuminated with the pale light, making you look like an angel. Was he in heaven? Did he die yet? He wouldn't mind if he died right then and there, now that you (you!) kissed him. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me, [Name]."
"But you'd like it, right? Because I'm so pretty." The teasing tone in your voice would normally make Heeseung melt, but all he could do was grin.
"You know I would."
The rest of the night, you and Heeseung don't kiss anymore. Not because you guys didn't want to kiss, but because the adrenaline wore off, and now the both of you were shy. It was almost comical, the way both of you completely reverted back to your bashful and sheepish selves, barely able to make eye-contact with each other.
"Thank you for tonight, Hee," you hummed, as you and Heeseung walked to the train station, hand-in-hand. "I had a lot of fun."
He scanned your face. The slight curve on your lips (oh god, your lips, the way the corner of your lip had a smudge of lipstick from kissing him earlier —how badly he wanted to kiss them again) was contagious. "Of course. I had a lot of fun, too."
The train ride back was quiet. You eventually began dozing off, resting your head on his shoulder.
"You did what?!" was the collective reaction of both you and Heeseung's friends. After that Friday together, you called together all of your friends to your house, to spill the beans. Likewise, Heeseung forced every single one of his friends into his living room.
"Ouuu, you little flirt!" Yunjin exclaimed. Currently, Yunjin, Winter, Hitomi, Yuri, and Minju were seated on your bedroom floor, while you dramatically flopped around on your bed.
It was now that you explained to your friends your long-time crush on Heeseung, much to their pleasant surprise.
"And then what happened?" Minju asked, filing her finger-nails. "Did you profess your undying love for him?"
You groaned into your pillow. "I can't!"
"Why not?" Winter quirked a brow. "You guys literally kissed."
You let out another groan. "What if he doesn't like me like that?"
Your friends deadpanned.
Heeseung Lee didn't like you. He loved you. They would know better than anyone.
"[Name], honey, you're overthinking it," Yuri nudged you with her foot. "He gave you his jacket. I think that says enough."
"Well, what if I'm just getting ahead of myself and he's just being nice?"
"Girl..."
Heeseung had a similar reaction.
All of his friends stared at him like he just punched their grandmothers.
"You can't be serious right now, hyung..." Sunghoon said, pinching his nose-bridge.
All of his friends were piled onto one couch, while Heeseung laid out on the one across from them, almost like they were in a therapy session.
"What if she just thinks I'm a good friend?" Heeseung used his hands to speak, theatrically moving them.
"What makes you think that?" Sunoo asked incredulously.
Heeseung groaned. "[Name] tells Yuri Jo that she wants to marry her and they're good friends."
"Okay, and?"
"Well," Heeseung huffed. "What if [Name] kissed me because she sees me the same way that she sees Yuri?"
"Well, I'm good friends with Jungwon-hyung and I don't kiss him," Riki said matter-of-factly.
"Right..." Jungwon nodded his head slowly. "Hyung, do you really think a good friend would pin you against a wall and kiss you?"
"Do you think a good friend would kiss you three times and then call you cute like a bajillion other times?!" Jake chimed in.
"Let alone choose to keep your jacket?!" Jay sounded tired.
Heeseung clasped his hands together, thinking for a few moments.
"Yes."
All of his friends groaned in defeat.
"You're hopeless."
After a lot of urging and cross-communication between friend-groups, both of your friends managed to convince both you and Heeseung to confess to each other the next Monday.
"What if I faint the moment she says my name?" Heeseung catastrophized to Jay in the school bathroom.
"Uh, I doubt that, hyung."
Heeseung texted you to meet him under the stairwell, and that was when he was going to confess. On your end, the moment that he texted that, you decided that you'd confess to him then.
When the time came, Heeseung headed out to the stairwell. His hands were clammy, and even when he wiped him on his uniform pants, he couldn't stop the trembling of his hands. What if everyone was instilling false hope in him? Gosh, Heeseung thought he was going to throw up. His stomach was churning, he was going to collapse if he saw you right now—
"Hee?" Your voice broke him out of his internal spiral. Seemingly, there was a halo around you, a light so bright that Heeseung was blinded.
"H-Hi," he stammered, straightening out his posture and clearing his throat.
Your hands were clasped behind your back, leaning forward toward him. "You wanted to talk to me, yeah?"
Heeseung couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze, his shoes suddenly becoming interesting. "Y-Yeah..."
The hallway where the stairwell was located was beginning to feel stuffy. Heeseung had never felt so nervous in his life. He was light-headed, barely able to even balance himself.
"Hee," you reached out to touch his arm, noticing his discomfort. "Let's go outside, okay?"
Going outside should have helped him cool down, but when you shrugged on his leather jacket to combat the cool air, Heeseung realized that there was no way in hell that he was going to get through this confession without dropping dead.
The two of you walked around the school yard for a few minutes in silence.
How should he start this confession? He had Sunghoon and Jake write out a script for him, and he spent the entire night memorizing it, but now in your presence he couldn't remember a single word. Should he have written a letter like Yuri Jo? Heeseung couldn't possibly contain himself.
"Hee," you finally said, disrupting the silence. "I have something to tell you."
Heeseung's mind wandered to the worst case scenario.
You're going to tell him that you're moving across the world to marry the love of your life, aren't you? You're going to say that he's a great friend and that you just got a boyfriend, right?
No, he needed to tell you his feelings first! If he didn't now, he'd never, and he'd burst into a million pieces!
"M-Me too!" he blurted, stopping in his tracks.
You blinked at him, then smiled.
Oh, no! It's actually happening!
He could already hear your voice saying, "Hi, Heeseung, my boyfriend just proposed to me and you're invited to the wedding."
You sucked in a breath, parting your lips to speak.
He needed to tell you first! The little demons in his head kept replaying the scene of you asking him to be your groom of honor at your wedding with the love of your life next Saturday. He could hear the marriage officiant announcing, “I now pronounce you husband and wife” at your wedding, and he imagined himself sitting in that little wedding venue holding back tears.
Oh my god, he needed to say it now, or he'll never say it ever!
"Hee, I really--"
Heeseung cut you off. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands balling into fists.
"I like you, [Name]!" he yelled.
.
.
.
You stared at him in disbelief. Or were you flustered? Heeseung couldn't tell. With too much adrenaline in his veins, Heeseung threw away all the preparation and drafted scripts he and his friends made for this very moment.
"I-I.. I like you so much, I'm scared that I'm going to explode!" Heeseung continued shouting at you. He had no idea what he was saying. All he was doing was telling you the thoughts he'd had about you all this time. "You're so, so, so pretty and I can't believe that you're an actual, real, physical, person, and you make me feel so fucking stupid, I can't take it."
Your eyes were bulging out of your head at this point, your jaw dropped.
"I've never liked anyone like I've liked you, a-and I just wanted to tell you this before you... you go off with someone else!"
Heeseung kept his eyes shut when he was done confessing, letting out a labored breath. There was no way that he could face you. The silence that fell over the two of you made Heeseung's heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. He squeezed his eyes in embarrassment. He gripped the hem of his shirt to relieve the bubbling anxiety inside him. Gosh, he was going to puke.
After a few moments, nothing happened. You didn't say a word. Did you just leave him there standing? Of course, you did. You were probably too kind and angelic to outright reject him. He was a fool to think that he had a chance with you—
Heeseung heard footsteps, and before he could react, he felt a pair of lips on his.
His eyes shot open.
You.
Were.
Kissing.
Him.
!!!
After he confessed!
Poor boy was so stiff, eyes wide.
Did that mean you liked him back?
You pulled away.
Usually, you had a reassuring smile on your face by default. Even during times where you were embarrassed, you almost never showed it on your face.
But this time, your entire face was painted with a flustered expression. Your cute lips jutted out in a mini pout, while your eyes were glued to the ground, avoiding his gaze.
A few pulses passed.
"I... I like you, too... by the way," you murmured.
Another few pulses passed.
You. Liked. Him.
Nonononono wait, was he dreaming?
You.
YOU.
The beautiful, angelic you.
Liked him.
Without thinking, Heeseung stepped forward, gently grabbing your face.
"You're real, right?" he breathed. When glossy eyes stared back at him, Heeseung felt warmth spread across his chest. Your lips looked so appealing right now, he was craving them again. "I'm not dreaming, yeah?"
You blinked at him a few times. The corners of your lips quirked upward.
"Why, because I'm 'so pretty that you can't believe I'm real?' " your voice had a teasing tone in it, referencing his earlier confession. Heeseung chuckled, letting go of your face so that he could slide his hands to where they belonged: around your waist.
"Just kiss me," he mumbled, looking at you with lidded eyes.
You grinned. "Gladly."
With that, you smashed your lips onto his. Instead of the chaste, soft, kisses that you shared earlier, this one was different. You shoved your tongue into Heeseung's mouth, exploring all its crevices. Poor boy was so surprised that he squeezed your waist, letting out a small whine. The feeling of you smirking against his lips gave him butterflies.
You finally pulled away breathless, but gave him no time to breathe. You grasped his chin, giving you easy control.
"You drive me so crazy," he murmured against the shell of your ear.
You pressed a kiss at the juncture between his neck and ear. "I drive you crazy?" you cocked your brow.
"You," you muttered. You began pressing kisses down his jaw.
“Drive.”
Kiss.
“Me.”
Kiss.
“So-”
Kiss.
"Fucking-"
Kiss.
"Crazy."
Before you could pounce on him with more kisses, Heeseung, red in the face, flopped over you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He let out a cute groan.
"What, are you getting shy on me?" you teased him, running your fingers through his hair. He shook his head against your shoulder, making you coo.
"I can't believe you like me back, that's all," he mumbled, muffled by your shoulder.
You laughed. "How? I feel like I was so obvious."
Heeseung looked up at you with pink cheeks, frowning. "You don't even want to know how hopelessly in love with you I was."
You quirked a brow at him.
"Yeah?" You pecked his forehead. "Try me."
Heeseung let out a breathy chuckle. He attacked your lips.
"How about I show you?"
FIN.
likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated :)
𝑹𝒐𝒂𝒅 𝑻𝒓𝒊𝒑 - 𝑳. 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈
✿Pairing: heeseung + female reader!
✿Warnings: smut, pure filth, car sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, cum eating, breeding kink, daddy kink, male masturbation, cursing, implied round 2. (Since the daddy kink won on votes, I added it 🤭)
✿Genre: smut, 18+, read at your own discretion.
✿Summary: in which a road trip leads to you riding your friend in the back seat of a minivan, that’s literally it lol I didn’t add Niki for obvious reasons, and just to save any controversy, the last thing I need is drama in here.
✿Number of words: 3,184k
Find your way around!
You’re not sure whose idea it was to invite you and your best friend on the road trip or who thought it would be a great idea to travel in a minivan given the fact it only held seven people and there were eight people, including you and you’re also not sure why you agreed, but here you sat on one of your guy friends lap on a whole 4-hour road trip and halfway into the drive it was getting really uncomfortable more than uncomfortable.
Not only that but why the hell did you have to sit on heeseung’s lap? Couldn’t someone else sit there?
You didn’t even ask cause you knew they’d give you a bullshit excuse about you being smaller and weighing less.
You wouldn’t mind sitting on him in any other circumstance cause he was undoubtedly a hottie, but right now, your mind couldn’t even travel there as the pain in your body increased.
And on top of that, Jake and his girlfriend were practically sharing a seat, so why on earth were you crammed in the back with heeseung while Sunghoon told a series of terrible jokes?
You couldn’t believe how Jake and his girlfriend seemed to be having the time of their lives while in the seat in front of you in your same position, except your best friend was only halfway on jakes lap.
You wished you were having that much fun, but your back ached, and there was still a whole hour left. “Umm, can we stop? I have to use the bathroom,” heeseung spoke up. He had been quiet for most of the ride, only laughing awkwardly when you sat on his lap after muttering a small “hey,” which you returned just as awkwardly.
And little did you know heeseung was just as uncomfortable, if not more uncomfortable than you.
“Really, heeseung, can you just hold it? We’re almost there,” Jay piped up from the driver's seat.
No.
In fact, heeseung couldn’t hold it well. There was nothing to really hold other than the erection that was about to become very evident to you if he didn’t get a break real soon. “We’re not even almost there yet!” he shouted to the front seat, nearly blowing out your eardrum in the process.
“Be a man and use a bottle 'cause we’re not stopping,” Jay dismissed, and heeseung only groaned behind you.
Heeseung was doing alright for the next ten minutes, but once Jay ran over a bump and your ass brushed against his bulge, he couldn’t help but whimper. “Fuck” he whispered and clutched tightly onto the leather seats.
You were now fully aware of why heeseung wanted to stop and even more aware of what you were feeling under you, and you didn’t know if you should feel disgusted or flattered.
You supposed you were indifferent to the situation, and you tried shifting so you’d be sitting more on his thigh, but that seemed to make it worse as he squeezed your waist to hold you in place. “Please just stop moving,” he breathed out and rested his forehead on your back. “Shit, y/n, I’m sorry” He lowered his head in embarrassment. “Can we please take a break?” He spoke up, and Jay mumbled out a curse, finally pulling off at a gas station a few minutes out, although it was too late now that heeseung had already humiliated himself in front of you.
Heeseung practically threw you off his lap and hurried off to the restroom.
It was one outside the gas station around the back, and it was more than janky, but it’d have to do.
At first, he tried to make his erection go down by rinsing his face with cold water and taking deep breaths, even going as far to try and flex certain muscles in his body to make the blood go somewhere else, but no matter what, he could not stop imagining you sitting on top of him and it didn’t help that you had to wear shorts he knew it was like ninety degrees outside so he couldn’t blame you but still.
“Fuck” he moaned when he rubbed over the tent in his basketball shorts.
He quickly dropped them and his underwear on the ground fisting his cock at a fast pace. He had to hurry if he didn’t want anyone getting suspicious of him.
He bit his lip as he swirled his palm over his wet tip. “So fucking good, y/n” He closed his eyes, picturing you without those shorts on, wondering how good it’d feel for you to sit on his lap with nothing on. He’d love watching your perfect ass jiggle while you bounce on his big dick.
He had dreamed about it so many times he couldn’t even count. He knew it was wrong to like you cause you were only friends, but you made that extremely difficult for him, especially today.
He tugged at his balls, squeezing his sack softly while stroking his warm length. “Y/n, please don’t fucking stop” He was full-on fantasizing about you jerking his cock instead, wondering how you’d do it. Would you tease him? Would you do it nice and slow or rough and fast? Just the thought was getting him close. “Feels so good, baby,” he whispered.
Frankly, he wouldn’t care how you did it just as long as you were touching him.
“Hurry up, will you! I gotta go next,” he heard jakes voice outside the door and panicked.
“Shit” He knew if the guys knew what he was doing in here, they’d never let him live it down ever.
He quickly pulled up his shorts, tucking his erection in his waistband and hoping for the best.
“Sorry about that, it’s all yours” heeseung smiled awkwardly at Jake, hoping he wouldn’t notice anything, and to heeseung’s luck, he didn’t.
Now you, on the other hand, that’s a different story.
He avoided all eye contact with you and hopped in the back of the van while you left to buy something, he assumed, but just then, he got an idea. “Can I sit up front? I can give directions.”
“No!” They all said in unison, and he couldn’t help but wonder why all the guys were being such ass hats today. Just his luck.
But he did also get them lost when he was in control of the navigation on their road trip last year, so he supposed they had a right to respond that way.
Once you came out of the gas station, you made your way to the back, and heeseung peered out the window as if the scenery was just that beautiful, which it wasn’t. It was literally a dead-end gas station with flickering lights. You figured he must have just been embarrassed, but you understood it wasn’t intentional, and that just happens sometimes, and you didn’t judge him for it.
You sat on his lap once more, and Jay hit the road again. “Would you like some?” You offered him a drink of your ice-cold water, and if he’s being truthful, his body felt like it was on fire right now, partly cause you were sitting on his lap and the burning weather outside, so he accepted your offer.
“Thanks,” he whispers and drinks at least half the bottle in one go.
“I’m not disgusted by you or anything if that makes you feel any better,” you whisper to him, and you feel him tense up.
That definitely made him feel better, but it was still embarrassing for him.
You leaned back slightly, and you’re not sure if he had gotten hard again or he was still hard from earlier. You thought that’s why he went to the restroom to relieve himself. “Are you feeling any better?” you could only hope it didn’t make him more uncomfortable, but you just didn’t want him suffering for the next fifty minutes.
“Do you actually want to know the answer to that?” He whispers close to your ear so no one else would hear as his warm breath fans lightly across your face making you feel a shiver run up your spine.
“Yes,” you reply back in a whisper.
“No,” he replied honestly, and at this point, he’s been so hard for so long that it almost felt painful.
“I can help if you want?” You said boldly and pushed up against him a little, giving him a hint in case he didn’t know what you meant already.
You and heeseung were friends, yes, but that never once stopped you from thinking he was an attractive guy, and who cares? You were all on vacation to act crazy, party, and have fun, so why not start the fun right now?
Heeseung could have sworn he misheard, but he definitely saw the way you backed your ass up and pressed it on his aching length. “N-no, we’re almost there. I can take care of it later,” he politely declines.
You knew he was just being nice, but you really didn’t mind, and you can’t lie feeling his thick cock beneath your ass was turning you on, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t soaking wet right now. “Sure?” You gripped his knee and rotated your hips on his crotch teasingly, and he said fuck it and gave in.
He squeezed your hip with his right hand guiding you back and forth on his lap, groaning softly in your ear when your clothed ass brushed over his tip.
He grabbed your waist with his other hand pushing you down on his cock. You put your hands over his stopping his movement, and he was hesitant to do anything further in case he was making you uncomfortable. “Sorry, did I do something wrong?” You didn’t say anything. You lifted your hips and shimmied out of your shorts and underwear, and he gasped at the sight, watching a thick string of your arousal sticking to your thigh. though the sight was extremely hot to him, he didn’t want his friends to see you naked. “Are you crazy?” He whisper, yelled, and tried to cover your body with his hands. He looked around and thanked the stars that Sunghoon had fallen asleep beside him. Jake, his girlfriend, and Jungwon were too immersed in their game to care, and Jay was focused on driving while Sunoo was in the front seat giving directions which gave you and heeseung the green light.
“Relax,” you giggled and tugged at his shorts.
“Fuck okay,” he breathed out once he deemed it to be safe plus, nightfall had come already, so even if anyone did wake up, he could discreetly cover you and himself before anyone saw anything.
He pulled down his shorts, and you looked behind you while biting on your lip, looking at his huge dick resting on his abdomen.
You sat back down on his lap, dragging your pussy over his cock getting it nice and slippery so he could enter you with ease. “God baby, you’re so wet,” he mumbled in your ear groggily, already in a daze-like state from feeling your warm pussy gliding on his length. Evidently, he wasn’t the only one turned on.
He pushed his cock down at the base, sticking it between your legs, making it easier for you to grind on it. “So fucking big.”
“Yeah? You like that, huh?” He gripped your waist, now controlling the movement of your hips. “You gonna let me stick it in that pussy, baby? Wanna feel this big dick inside you? Hmm?” He kissed your neck sloppily while squeezing your hips.
“Yes, please,” you whined out, nearly moaning when you felt his tip poking at your quivering hole.
“Ooh, so polite” You could tell he was smirking by the tone of his voice. “You know just how to get what you want, huh, baby?” He nibbled your ear and bucked his hips up, pushing his cock past your tight entrance.
You had to cover your mouth to muffle your moan as you felt him stretching out your tight walls. You were thankful that he started out slow and let you adjust first cause he was huge. He slowly thrust in and out inch by inch until you could take all of it. He bit down on your shoulder softly and took a deep breath while he bottomed out. “You feel so good,” he moaned out after finally getting the relief he’s been needing for the past hour.
“You do, too” You swirled your hips while placing your hands on his knees to get a good angle to ride him. “Mmph,” you moaned.
“There you go,” he whispered, mesmerized by how you were swaying your hips in such a small space so effortlessly. “Just like that” He pulled his shirt up so he could watch his cock getting buried in your little cunt each time you moved back and forth on him.
He reached around you slipping his hands underneath your shirt to massage your tits, cupping them in his large warm hands and squeezing on them occasionally, not too rough but just right.
“Fuck heeseung,” he chuckled lowly in your ear.
“Like that? Having your tight little pussy filled with daddy’s dick?” Heeseung definitely made his dirty jokes here and there, but this was a whole new side of him you had never seen before. The filthy words coming from his mouth just made you wetter by the second.
“Mmh yes, Daddy,” he snuck a hand inside your bra, rolling your hard nipple between his fingers while he kissed on your neck.
“Shit, baby, you’re taking my dick so well” His comment made you clench down on his dick, squeezing your walls involuntarily. “Bounce on it,” he commands in a hushed voice, and you immediately obey, bouncing up and down on his cock just the way he ordered you to.
He breathily moaned in your ear, making you tighten your walls around him yet again. “S-so full” You could literally feel his dick everywhere inside you. The thickness brushing against your wet aching walls was absolute heaven.
“All for daddy’s girl” He dropped his right hand from your chest, cupping your mound with his palm before using his two fingers to massage your little swollen clit.
You threw your head back on his shoulder as he tugged at your sensitive nub.
“Gonna be good and let daddy breed his girl? Come on, baby, let Daddy fill you up. I know your little pussy wants it” He matched your pace when he felt your legs giving out, and he started bucking his hips into you, helping you ride him.
Luckily Jay had the radio on, and the quiet sounds of your guys' sweaty skin clapping against each other were drowned out.
“Yes, Daddy cum in me, please” You chewed on your lip, quieting your moans in the stifling van.
“Cum with Daddy, okay?” He said hurriedly, feeling high coming up on him.
“Hee- heeseung, I’m coming,” you breathed out.
“Oh god,” he grunted out. “Me too, y/n me t-too,” He spoke softly in your ear, and you felt his cock stiffen even more while he fucked into you and eventually spilled his seed inside you.
“Shit,” your squeak of a moan fell from your lips as he rubbed your clit in fast circles tipping you over the edge at the same time as him while his cock continued to ruin your spent pussy.
“Fuckkkkkkkk,” heeseung panted heavily in your ear as you felt his cock throbbing inside you and his warm ropes of cum staining your walls.
He didn’t think it was possible for an orgasm to feel so good, and to make it even better, your pussy just kept clenching on him nonstop, milking his dick for everything he had to give, which was a lot given the fact he hadn’t came in awhile.
“Fuck your cum into me, Daddy. Please, I’ve been a good girl for you,” you begged. Even though you were sensitive, you still needed to feel more of him.
“Fuck my girl is so dirty, such a naughty baby” He fulfilled your downright filthy wish, bucking his hip and fucking his cum back inside your used hole. He swiped his fingers over his length, collecting his release before holding it up to your mouth for you to suck on as he created a creamy mess between your sweaty bodies. “Does Daddy taste good?” You hummed around his fingers, and the lewd sticky sounds in the quietness of the van just made it ten times hotter you felt so dirty but so good at the same time.
Heeseung dared to look down and saw your pussy was nothing but a mess of his and your cum the creamy white ring around his base made him groan in pleasure as your pussy lips stretched around his length, taking everything he was giving to you.
After a few minutes, his cock had begun to soften, and he pulled out of you. You could feel his cum drip from your hole, and you put your hand under the small stream catching it in your palm once it leaked out of you.
You held your hand up to your mouth, licking it clean, refusing to let even a drop of him go to waste. “Such a good fucking girl for Daddy,” he breathed in your ear.
You looked back, smirking at him and showing him the creamy white on your tongue. “Let Daddy have a taste. Wanna have you on my tongue, baby” He gripped your jaw lightly, turning your face to the side so he could kiss you. You both kissed messily, playing with the liquid and passing it back and forth on each other’s tongues until it got lost in your guys' saliva and trickled down your throats. You both gulped each other's fluids down, humming in satisfaction before eventually pulling away.
You both pulled up your shorts and underwear once the post-orgasm clarity had kicked in, and the air was now quiet and peaceful heeseung’s hands fell on your waist. He then offered you some water, and you quietly accepted, swallowing the now room-temperature water.
He traced his hands over your belly, lifting up your crop top just a little to feel more of your skin on his fingertips as he kissed your neck occasionally.
You reached your hand back, tugging him forward by his neck, allowing him to press more wet kisses all over your exposed skin.
You’re not sure who rolled the windows down, but you were both so thankful when the cool breeze hit your warm skin. Both of you released a breath from the relaxing feeling of the chilly night air.
You cupped your other hand over his and ran your fingers through his dusty blonde hair. “We should do this again when we get to the hotel,” he hums against your neck. “Want to?”
“I’d love to,” you whisper, and you can feel him smiling on your skin.
So maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, after all, to accompany the boys on their road trip.
FIN.
Thank you for reading. Please reblog and leave feedback! - 🐹
pairing ᝰ.ᐟ sim jaeyun x reader
genre ᝰ.ᐟ smut
warnings ᝰ.ᐟ fingering, pussy eating, unprotected sex, tit play, daddy kink, etc.
natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ mdni, hate comments will be deleted.
you had always kept to yourself, preferring solitude over pointless small talk and meaningless interactions. socializing never appealed to you—why waste energy caring about people’s lives when they were just as irrelevant as the next? you were content in your own world, detached from the gossip, the hierarchy, the petty dramas that surrounded you.
but if there was one person who could pull you out of your quiet indifference, who could bring out the worst in you, who could make your blood boil with nothing but pure, unfiltered rage—it was sim jaeyun.
the golden boy. the poster child of perfection. the captain of the soccer team and the walking, breathing ego that came with it. jaeyun was obnoxiously charming, devastatingly good-looking, and painfully aware of it. you hated to admit it, but he was infuriatingly hot—the kind of attractive that made it even worse when he opened his mouth and let that cocky, self-assured, utterly insufferable personality spill out.
and yet, no matter how much you tried to ignore him, he was always there—always in your space, always testing your patience, always pushing you toward the edge of absolute hatred.
like right now.
the distant shrill of a whistle cut through the air, a cruel reminder that karma had decided to be your enemy today. all you wanted was a moment of peace to focus on your studies, yet the universe had other plans.
your fingers gripped the edge of your notebook, trying to block out the noise, but curiosity—or perhaps masochism—had your eyes drifting from the pages to the field below.
and there he was.
jaeyun stood in the middle of the field, black compression shirt clinging to his body like a second skin, accentuating every toned muscle, every sharp dip and curve of his figure. his sleeves stretched tight around his biceps, flexing every time he moved, and his broad shoulders carried the kind of natural confidence that made it impossible not to look.
his hands—god, his hands—looked buffer than ever, fingers flexing as he wiped the sweat from his brow. damp strands of hair clung to his forehead, framing his face in a way that was unfairly attractive, his jaw clenched in focus, lips parted as he caught his breath.
and just like that—you hated him even more.
you hated how good he looked. hated how someone so cocky, insufferable, and utterly arrogant managed to crawl his way under your skin with nothing but a smirk and a well-timed stretch. hated how, despite everything, your body reacted to him in ways that made you sick with frustration.
because no matter how much you despised sim jaeyun, there were nights where you couldn’t help yourself.
nights where the memory of his voice—low, smooth, teasing, always dripping with mockery—played in your mind like a broken record. nights where your fingers gripped the sheets, your body aching, your mind clouded with filthy, shameful fantasies about how he’d be in bed.
rough. harsh. demanding.
a man like him wouldn’t settle for anything less than full control, wouldn’t be soft or hesitant, wouldn’t let you get away with your usual bratty attitude. his cock—of course it’d be big, thick and veined, the kind that made your thighs clench just thinking about it. and he’d know exactly how to use it, how to ruin you, how to make you choke on his name the same way he always made you choke on your words when you argued.
there had been too many nights where you’d touched yourself too much, too desperately, too often, chasing a high you could only ever reach by thinking about him. remembering the way he spoke to you, taunted you, tested you. he never even had to do anything overtly sexual—just the sound of his voice, the way he said your name with that condescending smirk, was enough to make your stomach twist with something you refused to name.
maybe it wasn’t hate. maybe it wasn’t even anger. honestly, you didn’t know what the fuck it was.
but you knew you were fucked.
and he knew it too.
because the moment your gaze lingered for too long, the moment you let your eyes betray you, his head snapped up, locking onto yours with deadly precision. his lips curled into a smug, knowing smirk, one that told you he could read your thoughts, see the way your thighs subtly pressed together, feel the heat burning under your skin.
and then he did something unforgivable.
his hands dropped to the hem of his compression shirt, fingers teasing the fabric, dragging it up slowly—too slowly—revealing the toned ridges of his abs, the sharp v-line disappearing beneath his shorts. his skin glistened with sweat, muscles flexing as he wiped a hand over his face, and that was it. that was your breaking point.
your thighs clenched before you could stop them, heat pooling between your legs at the intrusive, unholy thought of grinding against his abs.
but your face? your face remained impassive, indifferent, perfectly annoyed.
except he saw right through you.
his smirk widened, and then—because he was a menace, a fucking devil—he lifted two fingers, forming a V, and flicked his tongue between them, slow and deliberate.
your breath caught, a sharp gasp nearly escaping, but you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to glare.
because this was his favorite game.
he loved to push you, tease you, provoke you, just to see how far he could take it before you snapped. and you? you hated that it worked.
hated that your body betrayed you every time.
hated that instead of looking away in disgust, your mind ran wild with images of that tongue on you, between your legs, ruining you in ways your own fingers never could.
because the truth was—as much as you hated his teasing, hated his smug expressions, hated the way he knew exactly how to get under your skin…
you hated even more that it turned you on.
you couldn’t take it anymore.
the heat pooling in your stomach, the unbearable ache between your legs, the way jaeyun had looked at you like he knew everything you were thinking—it was too much. you needed to get away, needed space, needed somewhere secluded where he wouldn’t find you, wouldn’t push you further, wouldn’t see just how much he was affecting you.
gathering your belongings in a flustered haze, you left the bleachers, forcing yourself to walk, not run, as if that would somehow keep him from noticing your sudden, desperate retreat. the moment you stepped inside the girls’ bathroom, the tension in your shoulders loosened, the silence finally giving you a moment to breathe. it wasn’t ideal, but it was private, safe, far away from him.
or at least, it should have been.
but even as you reopened your notebook, pretending to refocus, your mind was already wandering. drifting back to the way jaeyun had looked standing on that field, his sweat-slicked skin glistening under the sun, his shirt riding up just enough to drive you insane.
you exhaled sharply, pressing your thighs together, feeling the uncomfortable stickiness between them. you couldn’t take it anymore. and though it was a reckless, dangerous thing to do here—on school grounds, in a public bathroom where anyone could walk in—you didn’t care.
your fingers trembled slightly as you set your books aside, reaching down to drag your skirt up, revealing the dampened fabric of your panties—soaked, ruined, completely exposing how badly he had affected you. the cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the fire burning in your core.
hesitation didn’t exist.
your fingers traced over the damp fabric, pressing down on your clit through your panties, delivering soft, teasing strokes that made your body twitch, thighs clenching involuntarily. your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth, suppressing the moan that threatened to spill out as you circled your fingers again, testing the sensitivity, reveling in the fact that it was all because of him.
never in your life did you think you’d be getting off at school, but you had one person to blame.
and that same person was going to pay for it later.
your mind drifted, unraveling into dark, forbidden thoughts—starting first with his hands, the way they flexed when he wiped sweat off his face, the veins running along his knuckles, his fingers long and thick, so perfectly built for touching, gripping, fucking. you imagined those same fingers curving inside you, pressing deep, dragging along your walls, knowing exactly where to touch, how to break you apart with just his hands.
“fuck…” the word slipped past your lips, soft, breathy, needy. your fingers picked up their pace, rubbing tight circles over your clit, imagining him doing it instead.
then your mind wandered lower.
his thighs—thick, strong, built from years of training—the way they’d feel underneath you, how he’d let you grind down against them, flexing just to make you feel it harder. you could almost hear him in your head, that low, mocking voice filled with amusement as he teased, “is this all you can do, baby? i thought you hated me.”
your breath hitched, your fingers working faster, needier, the tension tightening in your stomach, winding tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any second.
your mind spiraled deeper into the fantasy of him, completely lost in the intoxicating thought of jaeyun ruining you. his plump lips—the same ones that always curled into a cocky smirk, the ones that taunted you endlessly—now pressed against your body, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your skin, sucking harshly just to claim you. you could almost feel the bruises he’d leave behind, marking you up just to prove a point, just so everyone could see that you were his.
but then it was his tongue—your mind whirling at the filthy images of him trailing it over every inch of your body, slow and teasing, cruel in the way he’d drag it across your skin with no urgency, knowing you’d squirm under his touch. especially when he finally settled between your legs, hovering, smirking at how soaked you’d be for him.
he wouldn’t give in easily—no, jaeyun would make you beg, make you say his name the way he wanted before rewarding you. you could picture it too vividly, the way he’d flick his tongue over your clit in agonizingly small strokes, just enough to tease but never enough to satisfy, forcing you to writhe beneath him. you’d grip his hair, try to push him closer, but he’d only laugh, his voice thick with amusement as he murmured, “desperate, aren’t you?”
and the worst part? you would be.
but nothing—nothing—would compare to the thought of his cock.
his thick, veined length, the way he’d stretch you open, the way he’d find pleasure in watching you struggle to take him in. your mind twisted into filthier images, ones that made you ache with need, thinking about him forcing himself past your lips, groaning as he watched your mouth stretch around his size, watching you choke, struggle, drool as he shoved himself deeper.
he’d mock you for it, for your watery eyes, for the way you tried to take him so obediently despite the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. “what’s wrong, baby?” he’d taunt, “too much for you?” but he wouldn’t let up. he’d hold you there, letting you suffer with your mouth full of him, finding twisted amusement in your helplessness.
“fuck, jaeyun—” the moan escaped before you even realized it, his name falling from your lips with ease, your fingers working faster, deeper, more desperate. the sound of wetness echoed off the bathroom walls, mixing with the heavy, uneven breaths slipping from your lips. but you were too far gone to care.
your mind whirled into new possibilities, wondering—which position would he love most?
doggy?
would he want you on all fours, back arched for him, ass perfectly presented as he pressed his cock deep into you, one hand fisting your hair while the other came down in harsh, stinging slaps on your skin?
the image alone had your body tensing, your core tightening, the thought of him commanding you, ruining you, owning you tipping you dangerously close to the edge.
“shit—!”
your body jerked, pleasure crashing into you, breaking you apart as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving your thighs shaking, your breathing heavy and uneven.
your fingers slowed, the aftershocks pulsing through your body as the last waves of pleasure settled deep in your core.
but as the high faded, as the reality of what just happened sank in, only one thing lingered in your mind.
you needed to get back at him for this.
as the waves of pleasure slowly faded, leaving behind a lingering buzz of sensitivity, you fumbled for the toilet paper, wiping the slick from your fingers with shaky hands. your breathing was still uneven, erratic, the aftershocks of your orgasm pulsing faintly through your body as you reached for your phone. the screen lit up, the time glaring back at you—past 4.
you needed to get out of here. now.
with slightly trembling fingers, you tugged your sticky panties back into place, the damp fabric clinging uncomfortably against your sensitive core, a stark reminder of what you had just done. pressing down your skirt with forced nonchalance, you exhaled slowly, trying to steady yourself, trying to act as if nothing had happened.
your bag swung over your shoulder, your belongings clutched tightly in your hands as you pushed open the stall door—only to freeze.
your breath caught in your throat.
what the actual fuck.
there he was.
jaeyun.
leaning casually against the sinks, his arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted downward in what looked like bored amusement.
but then—he lifted his gaze.
his smug, infuriating, cocky gaze.
the second he heard the stall door open, his head snapped up, lips curling into a slow, devastating smirk.
his eyes—dark, knowing, utterly unreadable—swept over you in a way that made heat prickle down your spine, that made your heart slam against your ribs.
and in that moment, you knew.
he had been here the entire time.
your entire body locked up, every muscle in your frame going rigid as a sudden, burning heat crept up your neck, flooding your cheeks, settling deep in your stomach. the air in the bathroom felt thick, suffocating, the weight of jaeyun’s gaze alone pinning you in place, rendering you completely, utterly speechless.
your mind scrambled, trying—desperately, frantically—to piece together some kind of snarky response, something sharp and biting, something that would make it seem like you weren’t caught red-handed. but the words never came, vanishing before they could even form, leaving you stranded in the unforgiving silence that stretched between you.
his presence felt all-consuming, taking up every ounce of space, every breath of air, every single thought in your head. and you knew. you fucking knew there was no talking your way out of this.
because you had been caught.
completely. undeniably. irreversibly caught.
jaeyun let out a soft scoff, the sound laced with amusement, disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed—but was entirely enjoying it. he shifted, his posture straightening, his hands lowering to press against the sink counter, his grip firm, calculated, like he was settling in for a show.
but his eyes—sharp, teasing, deadly—never wavered from yours.
“had fun, baby?”
his voice was smooth, lazy, dripping with pure, unfiltered arrogance.
and it was deadly.
“i-i don’t know what you’re talking about..”
the words tumbled out, weak, unconvincing, betraying you before you could even attempt to sound believable. your voice stammered, breath still uneven, the aftermath of your orgasm clinging to you in ways you couldn’t hide. it was pathetic, really—grasping at the thin veil of denial, desperately gaslighting yourself into believing that maybe, just maybe, jaeyun had heard nothing.
he hadn’t walked in on you touching yourself to the thought of him.
he hadn’t heard the breathless, wrecked moan of his name spill from your lips as your fingers worked you to the edge.
and he sure as hell hadn’t been standing there, watching, listening, waiting, while you fell apart over him in the most shameless way possible.
right?
jaeyun pushed himself off the counter, his movements slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to watch you crumble. his gaze dragged over your face, taking in the way your lips parted slightly, the way your eyes darted away, flustered, panicked, guilty.
he knew. he fucking knew.
his steps were unhurried as he made his way toward you, closing the space effortlessly, like a predator playing with its prey. his hands stayed tucked in his pockets, a move that would have seemed casual if not for the way he subtly angled his hips, discreetly camouflaging what you already knew was there.
“no?” he echoed, voice mocking, smooth, his head tilting slightly, lips curling into something dangerous.
he stopped just close enough, forcing you to look up at him, the space between you nonexistent, suffocating.
“are you sure about that?”
his voice dropped lower, his tone dipping into something dark, knowing, completely unforgiving.
you were fucked.
“i have t-to go…”
your voice barely held steady, coming out in a breathless, shaky whisper, but you forced yourself to move anyway, clutching your bag like it was some kind of lifeline. your body screamed for an escape, your mind racing for any possible way out of this mess, but the second you tried to squeeze past him, it was over.
jaeyun’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist, spinning you effortlessly before your back collided with the cold, unforgiving wall. the force made you gasp, your bag slipping from your fingers, its contents spilling onto the tiled floor, but you barely noticed—not when he was this close.
your breath hitched, sharp and uneven, your chest rising and falling too fast as he closed the distance, his body just inches from yours, pressing into you without actually touching. but the heat radiating off him, the sheer intensity of his presence made it feel like he was everywhere.
his breath—hot, teasing, deliberate—cascaded over your ear, sending a shiver straight down your spine.
“why don’t i make it happen?”
his voice was low, dark, dripping with suggestion, and before you could even process his words, his tongue flicked out—a teasing, feather-light lick against the shell of your ear. your body jolted in response, heat coiling low in your stomach, a betrayal to your own desperation to resist him.
his hands slid down, coming to rest on your waist, fingers firm, possessive, gripping you like he was testing just how badly you wanted to run.
except you didn’t.
you couldn’t.
you never thought—not even in your wildest, filthiest fantasies—that this would actually happen.
you had dreamed of this—had spent too many shameful nights lost in the thought of him, picturing his hands gripping you just like this, his lips ghosting over your skin, his voice laced with the same dark amusement he carried now.
but you never thought it would go this far.
you never thought he’d know.
“i heard it all, y/n. don’t lie to me.”
the words sent a shockwave through you, making your stomach drop, your body locking up instantly.
he was so close now, so unbearably close, his breath ghosting over your cheek, his voice low, smooth, completely in control.
your wide, stunned eyes met his—dark, full of lust, unreadable in the worst way. your lips parted, chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow breaths, every ounce of air in the room suddenly gone.
the tension was suffocating. electric. devastating.
you weren’t even sure which one of you was breathing harder.
but you knew one thing—you couldn’t take it any longer.
your hands shot up, sliding over the firm lines of his neck, your fingers gripping him desperately as your lips crashed into his.
he didn’t hesitate.
his mouth moved against yours just as urgently, his grip on your waist tightening, grounding you, pulling you flush against him.
the kiss was messy, rushed, uncontrolled, tongues colliding, fighting for dominance, a battle neither of you were willing to lose.
jaeyun tilted his head, deepening the kiss, pressing into you with more force, more hunger, his fingers digging into your hips, like he was staking his claim.
his lips broke away from yours, leaving your mouth swollen, tingling, but before you could even whimper in protest, he was already moving—trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck.
his tongue flicked out, dragging over your pulse, his lips following with a sharp, lingering suck before his teeth sank into your skin, biting down just enough to make you shiver.
“fuck, jaeyun—”
his name slipped from your lips in a breathless moan, your fingers burying themselves into his damp hair, tugging him closer, harder, as if you could make him devour you faster.
his hands slid under your shirt, rough and impatient, fingertips pressing into your ribs before curling around the fabric.
and then—he ripped it off.
the shirt was discarded somewhere, anywhere, his breath hitching as his hands immediately found your tits, cupping them in his palms, squeezing just enough to make you arch into him.
his thumbs rolled over your nipples, watching in dark fascination as they pebbled under his touch, slick from the heat between your bodies.
“fuck—” he groaned, his thumbs brushing, teasing, rubbing, eyes fixated on the way your tits bounced every time he played with them.
he had thought about this too many times, too many nights spent fisting his cock to the idea of it, imagining your tits wrapped around him, squeezing him, his cock sliding between them while your mouth was open, tongue flicking out to catch his tip.
and now, you were here—real, warm, desperate beneath him.
his hands moved behind you, unclasping your bra in one swift motion, tossing it aside without a second thought.
his gaze devoured you, drinking in the sight of your bare skin, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your nipples hard and begging to be in his mouth.
and then—he dove in.
his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, tongue swirling, flicking over the sensitive bud before his teeth caught it, tugging just enough to make you gasp.
“so fucking pretty,” he muttered against your skin, his breath hot, damp, intoxicating.
he sucked hard, determined to leave bruises behind, claiming you in deep, dark marks that would take days to fade.
his mouth trailed higher, pressing kisses up your collarbone, along the curve of your throat, before descending again, this time onto your other tit.
“mm—fuck, jaeyun—” your head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut, your panties soaked, sticky, unbearable with how badly you needed more.
but he didn’t give in—not yet.
“jaeyun, please—” your voice broke, your fingers tightening in his hair, tugging hard, trying to ground yourself, trying to make him move faster, harder, give you more.
but he only smirked against your skin, his grip on your waist tightening as he murmured, smug and cruel—
“beg better, baby.”
he lowered himself slowly, sinking to his knees before you, his lips dragging over your stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. his hands found the hem of your skirt, fingers gripping the fabric as he pushed it up, letting it bunch around your waist, exposing just how much you needed him.
his hands guided your trembling thighs over his shoulders, positioning you perfectly, his face so close, too close, his breath hot, teasing, fanning against your soaking, ruined panties. his eyes darkened at the sight—your slick glistening through the thin fabric, staining it completely, proof of how wrecked you already were for him.
“fuck—” jaeyun groaned, his fingers hooking into the waistband, yanking harshly, tearing them away in one swift movement. the ripped fabric was tossed somewhere, forgotten, and before you could even process the loss, his hands grabbed at your ass, grounding you, keeping you balanced as his mouth descended upon you.
his tongue darted out, licking one slow, deliberate stripe through your folds before thrusting inside you, his mouth sealing around your dripping heat as if he were starving.
“ah—!” the scream ripped from your throat, your thighs clamping down around his head, your fingers flying to his hair, gripping tight, pulling hard.
but jaeyun didn’t care—he wanted it.
he wanted you to hold him there, wanted you to lose control, wanted to feel your body breaking apart in his hands.
his tongue moved in long, devastating licks, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking, flicking, devouring. he moaned into your heat, the vibrations shooting through you, making your body jolt, shudder, tremble.
“fuck—jaeyun, please! please—!”
your hips rocked against his mouth, chasing the friction, chasing relief, and he let you, let you use him, let you grind down on his face, his tongue fucking into you, licking you so deep, so perfectly, every flick of his tongue making the coil in your stomach tighten, tighten, tighten—
his hands squeezed your ass, pressing you even closer, his mouth slurping, messy, loud, and he groaned against you, the sound deep, guttural, pure sin.
“so fucking sweet, baby,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire, his lips wet, glistening, ruined with you.
“gonna eat this pussy till you cry for me.”
your head slammed back against the wall, the dull ache barely registering over the overwhelming pleasure flooding your senses. the way jaeyun’s tongue worked inside you was nothing short of sinful—precise, merciless, devastating. every flick, every deep stroke of his tongue sent you spiraling, your thighs trembling violently atop his shoulders, threatening to give out completely.
your pussy clenched around the relentless movements of his tongue, soaking him, ruining him, making him groan into you like he was addicted to your taste. you could hear it—the obscene, wet sounds of him devouring you, drinking you in, savoring every drop like you were the best thing he’d ever had.
“jaeyun, please—c-can i cum? please, can i—i?”
your pleas turned to whimpers, then to sobs, your voice breaking under the weight of your impending climax, under the unbearable need to let go. your fingers gripped at his hair, desperate, pulling, tugging, trying to ground yourself, trying not to fall apart too soon.
jaeyun only chuckled against your heat, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you, making you twitch, gasp, tremble even harder.
“aww, you wanna cum, baby?” his voice was mocking, condescending, yet dripping with pure filth, his hands digging into your thighs, pressing them harder around his head. “wanna make a mess on daddy’s face?”
the word—that fucking word—sent a shudder through you, a sharp, visceral reaction you couldn’t suppress.
your moan was loud, desperate, wrecked, your body jerking involuntarily, the filthy nickname feeding into every sinful fantasy you’d ever had.
“please, please, daddy—”
your voice cracked, high-pitched, teetering on the edge of ruin, your climax hanging by a thread, so dangerously close, so impossibly unbearable.
jaeyun groaned against you, tongue flicking faster, his hands spreading you open wider, his movements completely unrelenting.
“then cum, baby,” he murmured against your clit, voice dark, commanding, merciless. “make a fucking mess for me.”
the second the words left his lips, you broke.
your orgasm crashed into you with full force, a violent, breathtaking release that tore through every nerve in your body. a loud, uncontrollable scream ripped from your throat, your entire form convulsing, trembling, muscles tightening so hard that for a second, you felt like you might black out from the intensity.
jaeyun groaned, his grip on your ass tightening, fingers digging in as he held you in place, his mouth devouring every drop of your release.
“fuck, baby—”” he rasped, voice thick with pure, ravenous hunger, the vibrations against your clit sending aftershocks ripping through you, making your thighs spasm uncontrollably around his head.
but he wasn’t done.
his tongue licked long, deliberate strokes, lapping up every bit of your arousal, cleaning you up with slow, torturous drags, drinking you in like he never wanted to stop.
“oh fuck—” your moans came in shaky, gasping breaths, your chest heaving aggressively, body still shuddering in the aftermath.
and yet, he still didn’t let up.
his mouth was relentless, his tongue dipping back in, pressing another slow, suffocating lick through your folds, his lips wrapping around your clit just to feel you twitch again.
but before the overstimulation could truly wreck you, he finally lifted himself off you, his face slick with your release, his lips glistening, wet, ruined.
and yet, he didn’t wipe it away.
he licked his lips—slow, deliberate, greedy.
“so fucking good, baby.”
his voice was hoarse, rough, completely wrecked.
and his cock—fuck, his cock was aching.
his hunger for you was insatiable, he could spend hours between your thighs, ruining you over and over with his tongue alone, but the ache in his pants was now painful, throbbing, unbearable.
he wanted to feel you. all of you.
finally.
his hands moved with ease, picking you up effortlessly, his strength barely faltering as he carried you off his shoulders, setting you down onto the cool, porcelain sink.
his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart just enough to take in the mess he made of you.
his cock twitched in his shorts, straining painfully, the evidence of his arousal obvious in the thick wet patch covering the front of his sweats.
he didn’t waste another second.
with one hand, he dragged his shorts down, his boxers following, both pieces of clothing pooling at his ankles as he finally freed himself.
and fuck—your assumption had been right.
he was huge.
his cock stood heavy, thick, angry, his veins prominent, his slit already leaking precum, twitching with need as he gripped himself at the base, giving himself a few rough pumps.
“you’re doing so fucking good for me, baby,” his voice was pure sin, filled with dark satisfaction as he fisted himself, teasing his tip against your soaked, pulsating entrance. “such a good fucking girl.”
your body shuddered, still raw, overstimulated, desperate, but you wanted him more than anything.
“are you gonna take me well, baby?” he murmured, his voice taunting, teasing, his cock dragging along your folds, smearing his precum over your entrance. “gonna show daddy just how fucking desperate you are for his cock?”
your only response was a soft, wrecked whimper, your body too dazed, too lost in the haze of pleasure to form a coherent thought.
but jaeyun wasn’t feeling patient.
one hand slid up to your breast, squeezing it harshly, his fingers pinching your nipple as he finally pushed in.
the stretch was instant, breathtaking, overwhelming.
your walls clamped around him, your body struggling to take his sheer size, your head tilting back, mouth falling open in a silent scream as he pushed deeper, filling you inch by inch.
“oh fuck, baby—” his groan was deep, strained, broken, his grip on your breast tightening, fingers digging into your skin as he bottomed out completely.
his cock throbbed inside you, buried to the hilt, your tight walls gripping him so perfectly, so sinfully, so impossibly tight.
“shit—” he gritted out, his jaw clenching as he held still, letting you adjust, reveling in the way your body wrapped around him, sucked him in.
he had waited for this.
and now, he was going to ruin you.
his other hand moved to your neglected breast, fingers gripping, kneading, squeezing with just enough force to make your back arch deeper, a series of soft, low grunts escaping his lips as he drank in the sight of you.
“gonna fucking ruin you…” his voice was husky, dark, dripping with sin, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear before he snapped his hips forward.
“i’ll have you begging for more, baby.”
and then—he slammed into you.
his thrusts were merciless, brutal, unrelenting, each one hitting deeper, harder, sharper, the sheer force making your entire body jolt against the sink. your fingers desperately clawed at his back, nails digging into his skin, leaving burning, red trails that only made him groan louder.
“fuck—” your eyes rolled back, pleasure crashing over you as he found your sweet spot instantly, his cock pushing into you so deep, so perfectly, stretching you so good that your thighs trembled violently, your breath coming in shaky, uneven gasps.
and then—his hands left your tits.
only to come slamming down onto your skin.
hard.
the sharp sting of his palm meeting your flesh made your body jolt, your head tilting back as a loud, broken scream spilled from your lips.
“fuck, daddy!”
your cry echoed in the small space, your hands flying up, searching for something—anything—to hold onto as the pleasure overwhelmed you.
your fingers latched onto his broad back, nails raking down the sculpted muscles, leaving deep, red scratches that only fueled him further.
“fuuuck—” jaeyun groaned, voice thick, slurred, completely wrecked.
his head tilted back, his jaw clenched, his stomach flexing beautifully, sweat dripping down his abs as he pounded into you harder, the force of it rocking the sink beneath you.
“this pussy—taking me so fucking well—”
his words were half-spoken, half-moan, his voice drenched in pleasure, his hips never faltering, never slowing.
“you love this fucking dick, don’t you, baby?”
his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them even wider, pushing himself even deeper, watching as your body shuddered beneath him, completely ruined, completely his.
“fuck yes! yes!”
your scream echoed through the small space, bouncing off the bathroom walls as your body convulsed, every muscle tightening, your core clenching around him like a vice. each ruthless, punishing thrust sent you spiraling closer, the coil in your stomach winding tighter, tighter—
“gonna cum on my dick, baby?”
jaeyun’s voice was thick, strained, completely wrecked, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. his grip tightened around your legs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he lifted them higher, pushing them closer to the mirror behind you.
“oh—s-shit!”
your head snapped back, a scream ripping from your throat as his fingers descended, pressing against your swollen, overstimulated clit, flicking harsh, precise strokes over the bundle of nerves.
“wet my dick, baby,” he groaned, his voice hoarse, shaking, desperate.
his cock twitched violently, the feeling of your tight, spasming walls squeezing around him, sucking him in, milking him for everything he had sending him dangerously close to the edge.
you could barely breathe—barely think—your body thrashing, pleasure swallowing you whole as the dam finally, violently shattered.
“fuck, jaeyun—!”
your hands shot down, gripping your own thighs, holding them open, wide, vulnerable, and then—you snapped.
your orgasm crashed into you like a violent wave, knocking the air from your lungs as liquid pleasure gushed out of you, squirting harshly, uncontrollably against jaeyun’s lower stomach and soaking his cock.
“oh, fuck—yeah, baby—fuck!”
his moan was loud, shameless, raw, his rhythm stuttering, his hips snapping forward in a series of fast, erratic thrusts.
his cock throbbed aggressively, the feeling of your release covering him, dripping down his abs, your walls still fluttering around him sending him spiraling right after you.
“fuuuck—” he gasped, his voice wrecked, trembling as his head fell forward, his grip on your thighs turning bruising.
and then—he came.
thick, hot ropes of cum spurted deep inside you, coating your walls, filling you completely, stuffing you full, each pulse flooding you even more.
his hips jerked in tiny, shallow thrusts, riding out the last waves of his climax, his chest heaving, his body shuddering, both of you a mess of tangled limbs, hot skin, and ruined breaths.
but when he finally pulled out, a soft whimper of protest left your lips, your walls clenching around nothing, already missing the stretch of him inside you.
his low, satisfied groan sent another shiver down your spine as he watched, completely enthralled, entirely mesmerized, as his cum spilled out of you, thick and messy, dripping down your thighs.
“fuck, baby—look at that.”
his fingers traced over your wrecked entrance, pushing some of the cum back inside, watching it slowly ooze out again, a dark smirk curling on his lips.
you were completely spent, body trembling, breath still unsteady, but in the back of your mind, one thing became clear.
maybe—just maybe—your hate for him had never been real to begin with.
maybe it had always been masked by something deeper, something filthier, something much, much worse.
and now?
it had been completely, irrevocably fulfilled.
natty’s notes ᝰ.ᐟ i hope you all liked it !!
summary: you needed money. he needed a fake girlfriend. easy deal, right? except he’s your best friend’s boss. and you’re one minor inconvenience away from setting something on fire. he’s cold, rich, emotionally unavailable. you’re loud, broke, and very good at pretending this isn’t slowly turning real.
genre: fluff | fake dating
characters: ceo!heeseung x f! broke ass reader
words: 12k?
warnings: none in this part
a/n: damn didnt know tumblr had a word limit so heres a 2 parter i didnt realise would be a 2 parter
part 2
You were in your final year of college, living what could only be described as the off-brand version of Hannah Montana. Two jobs, endless assignments, zero glam. You had the double life down—student by day, overworked part-timer by night—except instead of rocking out on stage, you were rocking a polyester apron and a mild caffeine addiction.
Despite working like a hamster on an espresso wheel, your bank account stayed somewhere between “embarrassing” and “haunted.” Thanks, student loans. They followed you like an ex who couldn’t take a hint—except this one charged interest and occasionally sent you emails that made your eye twitch.
Still, you powered through. Broke, yes. Sleep-deprived, absolutely. But functioning? Debatable.
Fortunately, your best friend Jake—resident golden boy, and somehow always suspiciously well-rested—had just landed a Big Boy Job. He was now the personal assistant to the Lee Heeseung. Which sounded impressive… you guessed. You wished someone had warned you what a big deal this guy was, but no one did. You didn’t know. You really didn’t.
You were three bites deep into your third roll of bread, barely chewing anymore. It wasn’t about manners—it was about survival. Tuition was due, your rent deadline loomed like a jump scare, and your bank account balance looked like a bad joke.
Jake sat across from you at the glossy conference room table, watching you with an expression that landed somewhere between mild horror and disbelief.
“Slow down,” he said, nudging the breadbasket just out of your reach. “The bread’s not running anywhere.”
You glared at him, a crust still stuck to your bottom lip. “Easy for you to say. You’re not living on instant noodles and silent sobbing.”
He wrinkled his nose. “You literally had coffee and a spoonful of peanut butter for breakfast.”
“Because I couldn't afford a second spoonful.”
Flipping through your notes with one hand and clutching a half-eaten roll with the other, you tried to cram half a semester’s worth of marketing strategy into your already overloaded brain. You were multitasking. Efficient. A legend, if legends were broke and hungry.
Jake looked personally offended. “This is a workplace, you know. There are millionaires walking around here. You’re dropping crumbs on a seven-thousand-dollar chair.”
You paused mid-bite. “Seven what now?”
He tossed you a napkin with the kind of disappointment only a best friend could perfect. “Just—try not to look like a starving Dickens orphan if my boss walks in.”
You frowned. “Your boss?”
And that’s when the air changed—like a cold draft had slinked in through invisible cracks. Jake straightened. The playful glint in his eyes flickered out.
Speak of the devil in designer slacks.
The door creaked open, and in walked the heir to Luxen Technologies: Lee Heeseung.
Cold. Polished. Annoyingly symmetrical.
You promptly choked on your bread.
"That's your... boss?" you asked, staring as the man strolled in like he was walking on a Calvin Klein runway in slow motion, his coat flaring just slightly, hair annoyingly perfect.
Sure, he was good-looking. Objectively. Like, if you had a dollar for every sharp angle on his face, you could maybe afford two spoonfuls of peanut butter.
But you didn’t have time for men. You barely had time for yourself.
Here you were, fully dependent on your best friend and roommate’s snack stash and corporate pantry privileges, inhaling free carbs like your life depended on it—which, honestly, it kind of did. This had become your daily routine: roll out of bed, survive uni, raid Jake’s office for bread and maybe some emotional support tea every morning.
Jake sighed, already bracing for impact like someone who'd lived through this exact scenario too many times. “Look, you have to leave before he comes over and kicks you out.”
You snorted, entirely unbothered, and waved him off like he was being dramatic—which, to be fair, he usually was. Reaching for another roll from the meticulously arranged snack spread (which you were absolutely not supposed to touch), you said breezily, “He wouldn’t do that. Right?”
Jake didn't answer immediately. Instead, he gave you the kind of look reserved for people about to learn something the hard way. “He’s kicked people out for less,” he muttered, casting a wary glance at the growing constellation of crumbs you were generously distributing across the sleek, glass conference table—like you were decorating it for a carb-themed holiday.
Your chewing slowed. “Oh,” you said, mid-bite, hand frozen halfway to your mouth.
Silence.
The kind of silence that prickled.
Something shifted in the air, and you felt it—like animals sensing a predator approaching. You turned your head slowly.
And there he was.
Lee Heeseung. In the flesh. A few steps away and looking like he’d just walked into a crime scene. He was tall, sharp, and immaculately put-together, holding a tablet in one hand like it offended him. His eyes scanned the table, then landed on you—the uninvited guest currently mid-chew, hoarding bread rolls like it was your last meal.
If disapproval had a face, his was it.
Your brain, bless its useless soul, screamed: Run.
Your stomach had other plans: Finish the bread first.
And your hands? They casually reached for two more rolls while maintaining steady eye contact with the most terrifyingly attractive man you’d ever seen.
Honestly, if you were going to get kicked out, you might as well be full.
You glanced at Jake. With as much dignity as one could muster while chewing, you gave a dramatic bow, wiping a suspicious smear of butter off your cheek with the back of your sleeve. “Good day, Mr. Sim. I shall see you again tomorrow. Absolutely lovely businessy chat. So productive. Okay. Bye now.”
Jake snorted. Loudly. But you ignored him, choosing instead to hoist your laptop bag like a makeshift shield, holding it in front of your face in an attempt to avoid the burning scrutiny of one Lee Heeseung. Eye contact was the enemy. Recognition was a death sentence. And above all else: pantry access must be preserved.
If he ever put two and two together—that the very person chewing her way through his conference table like a feral carb-goblin was you—you were done for.
Goodbye, free bread. Goodbye, Jake’s fancy office snacks. Goodbye, dignity… not that there was much left to begin with.
You began edging toward the door, sidestepping like a raccoon caught red-pawed in the middle of a kitchen raid, trying not to look suspicious. Which only made you look so much more suspicious. And to make matters worse, the more you tried to vanish, the longer Heeseung stared.
His eyes followed you with a slow, assessing calm—like a predator trying to decide whether the strange creature in his territory was worth the energy to chase. He didn’t say a word. Just watched. Silently. Intensely. Unreadable.
Probably wondering who let the help in.
“Smooth,” Jake muttered behind his hand, clearly enjoying every second of your descent into awkwardness.
“Shut up,” you hissed, tripping slightly over your own bag strap on your way out, a quiet wheeze of panic slipping from your lips.
You didn’t dare look back until the elevator doors had closed behind you, safely sealing you in a metal box where embarrassment couldn’t reach you. Heart pounding. Mouth dry. Still tasting sourdough.
So that was him, you thought. Jake's boss.
And if he ever figured out who you were? You were screwed.
Meanwhile, back in the war zone formerly known as the conference room, Jake turned back around slowly to face his boss.
Heeseung didn’t look up. He was scrolling through his phone like none of that had just happened. “What time’s my meeting again?” he asked casually, thumb gliding across the screen.
“Three,” Jake replied quickly, slipping back into assistant mode with the smoothness of someone who really needed to keep his job. “Then another one at five with the UX development team. They’re presenting the wearable AI prototype.”
Heeseung gave a brief nod, still scrolling.
There was a beat of silence. Jake almost allowed himself to exhale.
And then—“Who was the girl?”
Jake blinked. “Girl?”
Now Heeseung did look up. One perfectly shaped eyebrow lifted just a fraction. “The one eating the bread like it owed her money.”
Jake choked. “She's just...she's my friend.”
Heeseung narrowed his eyes, the phrase clearly not satisfying. “Your friend. In my conference room. During working hours. Helping herself to my carbs.”
“To be fair,” Jake offered, voice cracking like a freshman in choir, “they’re technically Luxen’s carbs. Also, you don’t even eat the bread—”
“She wiped her mouth with her sleeve,” Heeseung said, looking deeply betrayed. “Do people do that?”
Jake had no idea if he was supposed to laugh, apologize, or call security on your behalf.
“She’s harmless,” he said quickly. “You won’t even see her again. I think."
Heeseung hummed, a noncommittal sound that somehow said everything. His gaze drifted back to his phone.
But Jake caught it.
A flicker at the corner of Heeseung’s mouth—so quick it almost didn’t happen.
Not irritation. Not disapproval.
Curiosity.
Almost.
—
Heeseung sighed.
It wasn’t that he hated his life. Far from it, actually.
He liked working. Loved it, even. There was something deeply satisfying about losing himself in spreadsheets, contracts, and a calendar so tightly packed it could give a scheduler heartburn. He was good at it—no, great at it. The kind of great that turned heads in boardrooms. The kind of great that earned nods of respect from executives twice his age. Even his notoriously competitive older brother and stone-faced father begrudgingly acknowledged his brilliance when it came to the company.
They weren’t jealous of his success—not exactly. Just… quietly resentful that their grandfather, the patriarch of the empire, seemed to have written Lee Heeseung in bold letters at the top of every metaphorical will, wish list, and family legacy blueprint. Heeseung was the golden boy. The prodigy. The one who could do no wrong.
Well—except in matters of the heart.
His grandfather, a man of steel nerves and silk pocket squares, had one tragic flaw: he was a hopeless romantic. The handwritten-letters, crying-during-Hallmark-movies, “Love conquers all” kind. Back in his youth, he had famously eloped with Heeseung’s grandmother after her parents forbade the match. It was the tale he recited at every family dinner like a dramatic bedtime story, wine glass in hand, pausing for emphasis with misty eyes and unnecessary violin music playing in everyone’s heads.
Now, he’d made it his personal mission to marry off every last descendant like he was casting a period drama.
And naturally, he took particular offense to Heeseung—the youngest, most accomplished, and most emotionally unavailable—refusing to so much as glance at romance. Not a flicker. Not a whisper. Not even the vague interest of someone who knew love existed in the same universe.
So imagine Heeseung’s horror when, despite all logic, he found himself distracted. Haunted, even. By the mental image of some girl with a mouthful of carbs, an unapologetic sleeve-wipe, and crumbs on her cheek like a personal brand.
Utterly ridiculous.
Infuriating, even.
There were precisely three things Lee Heeseung could not abide during work hours:
Unexpected visitors.
Long-winded conversations.
Family.
So, naturally, all three arrived in one dramatic flourish when the office doors slammed open with the subtlety of a wrecking ball wearing designer shoes.
“Seung!”
Heeseung didn’t glance up. He didn’t need to. That voice had the energy of a Broadway debut and the volume to match.
“Why is he here?” Heeseung asked flatly.
Jake froze mid-sip of his iced Americano, nearly choking on the absurdity of being blamed for something he had very clearly tried to prevent. “I told him not to—he didn’t even call—”
Heeseung finally looked up, just in time to watch the hurricane make landfall.
Grandpa Lee swept into the room like he still ran the place, all charisma and cologne, his cane purely decorative and his expression full of self-satisfaction. Former CEO. Founder of Luxen Technologies. Current full-time menace to his grandson’s blood pressure.
“Grandpa,” Heeseung said through clenched teeth, voice just shy of a groan. “You can’t keep barging in here every time you have a thought.”
“Of course I can,” the old man said cheerfully, already heading for the plush chair across from Heeseung’s desk. “It’s my building. My company. My bloodline. And also, you left Sunday dinner early, again, so I brought the discussion to you.”
Jake slowly sank into his seat, doing a decent impression of a man attempting to fuse with office furniture. He opened his laptop, not to work, but to pretend like he was somewhere—anywhere—else.
Across the room, Heeseung dragged a hand down his face, the weariness in his expression not from deadlines or meetings but from the familial storm that had just rolled in, all bluster and dramatic flair.
It wasn’t that Heeseung didn’t love his grandfather. He did. Deeply. He’d grown up listening to Grandpa Lee’s stories—some romantic, some insane, all borderline exaggerated. He loved the old man’s fire, his flair for theatrics, his unwavering belief in love.
But the thing was, Heeseung didn’t believe in love. At least not for himself.
Love happened, sure. It was cute in theory. Like puppies. Or those couples who held hands in grocery store aisles. But for Heeseung? The concept belonged in other people’s lives. He had things to build. A company to run. An empire to uphold. There wasn’t room in his carefully scheduled, emotionally vacuum-sealed world for candlelit dinners and grand declarations.
“Seung,” Grandpa Lee began, already digging into the contacts on his ancient phone like he was summoning a spell. “One of the kids—from—uh—SunTech, I think. His granddaughter—”
“Not interested,” Heeseung groaned, dragging his chair out and dropping into it like a man preparing for battle. He turned on his computer and focused all his energy on his Google Calendar, as if the overlapping blocks of color could protect him from whatever matchmaking scheme was brewing.
“She’s your age,” Grandpa insisted, swiping through what looked like a very poorly lit photo. “Exceptionally bright. Lovely eyes. Probably fertile—”
“I don’t care,” Heeseung said, without even blinking.
Grandpa Lee scoffed so hard, Jake briefly checked the air conditioning to make sure it wasn’t just the vents.
“Jake, my boy,” the old man thundered, turning to Jake with the dramatic flourish of a stage actor mid-soliloquy, “you best prepare an umbrella for tonight. The ancestors are going to cry from how rude my grandson is.”
Jake coughed behind his hand, clearly losing the battle not to laugh.
“Rude?” Heeseung repeated, eyes still fixed on his screen. “Didn’t you run away from your family to marry Grandma?”
“She was the love of my life,” Grandpa snapped, puffing out his chest like he was about to monologue about moonlight and destiny. Again.
“And didn’t you yell something along the lines of—what was it?” Heeseung pretended to think for a beat, then smirked. “Oh right. ‘Kiss my ass.’”
Grandpa Lee’s face wrinkled into an affronted frown. “You little—!”
He stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor, cane in one hand like he was about to duel.
Jake peeked up from behind his laptop, eyes wide, mildly alarmed.
Heeseung leaned back in his chair, looking irritatingly calm. “Just saying, if rebellion for love was good enough for you, maybe rebellion against love is good enough for me.”
“You’re twisting my legacy, you arrogant little–” Grandpa snapped.
Heeseung let out a long-suffering sigh. “I love you, Grandpa,” he said, not without sincerity, “I really do. But I don’t think—”
Whack.
The cane came down with expert precision, connecting with the top of Heeseung’s head before he could finish the sentence.
“Ow—! What the hell?! Grandpa!” Heeseung hissed in pain, one hand flying up to his hair as he recoiled in disbelief.
“That,” Grandpa Lee said, lowering his cane with the pride of a seasoned warrior, “was for being stupid. I may be old, but I’m not senile.”
Jake, valiantly trying to remain neutral, let out a sound that could only be described as a muffled snort, quickly masked behind his coffee cup. He was, unfortunately, enjoying this far more than his employee handbook allowed.
“You assaulted me,” Heeseung muttered, rubbing his scalp and glaring at the very man who used to tuck him in with bedtime stories about elopements and destiny.
“That wasn’t assault,” Grandpa countered, straightening his lapels. “That was discipline. You’re welcome.”
“You could’ve said something.”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
Jake quietly slid a packet of ice from the mini fridge toward Heeseung’s desk like a peace offering. Heeseung took it with a scowl, pressing it to his head as Grandpa settled back into the chair he had so dramatically abandoned.
“I’m not saying fall in love today,” Grandpa continued, voice a touch gentler now. “But open your eyes. One day, someone is going to walk into your life—and she won’t give a damn about your meetings or your title or your five-year plan. She’ll probably be a disaster. A whirlwind. And exactly what you need.”
Heeseung stared at him, unimpressed. “You’ve been watching those stupid dramas again, haven’t you?”
“I like them,” Grandpa sniffed, unbothered. “They speak to the soul. And unlike you, they have range. Emotional range."
Jake lost the battle with his laughter, letting it escape in a quiet wheeze.
Heeseung gave him a sharp look. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Not at all,” Jake said, already typing something into his notes app with far too much amusement. “Should I call Legal and ask about emotional damages from relatives?”
“Call a therapist while you’re at it,” Heeseung muttered.
Grandpa Lee stood again, “I’m not cancelling the date with SunTech’s granddaughter,” he announced, as if this declaration were final, written in stone, sealed by the ancestors themselves.
Heeseung groaned, already feeling the migraine bloom behind his eyes. “Grandpa. Cancel it. I’m not sitting around awkwardly sipping tea with some random girl—”
“Not random. SunTech’s granddaughter,” Grandpa corrected, his tone haughty, as though the corporate pedigree alone should be enough to send Heeseung into a frenzy of romantic interest.
“You don’t even know her name.”
“It’s something to do with the sun,” Grandpa said, waving a dismissive hand. “Sunny? Sunrise? Sunhwa? Something celestial. The details aren’t important.”
“Oh, I think they are,” Heeseung deadpanned.
“Seung.” His grandfather’s voice softened with a rare touch of sincerity. “Please. Just one date. One.”
Heeseung hesitated. Not because he was considering it, but because he was trying—desperately—to find a way out that didn’t involve disappointing the man who once taught him how to drive and also how to spot a bad merger.
“I can’t,” he said finally.
“And why not?”
Heeseung opened his mouth, then closed it. Thought. Thought harder. Came up with absolutely nothing. His brain was a clean whiteboard where excuses usually lived, but today, apparently, they’d taken the morning off.
He glanced at Jake. Still in his chair. Still sipping his iced Americano. Still laughing silently behind his laptop like this was a free improv show with catered snacks.
“Because…?” Grandpa prompted, eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“Jake?” Heeseung said, turning toward his assistant like a man clinging to the edge of a lifeboat.
Jake blinked. The sip of coffee in his mouth stalled somewhere in his throat.
Oh, no. Oh, no no no.
Heeseung’s eyes screamed Help me. Jake’s brain screamed Why do I work here. But somewhere between panic and pity, an idea emerged—terrible, reckless, and unquestionably effective.
Jake cleared his throat. “Because,” he said slowly, “Mr. Lee already… has a girlfriend.”
The room went still.
Utterly, impossibly still.
Heeseung blinked once. “I what.”
Grandpa Lee's gaze sharpened like a hawk spotting prey. “You what?”
Jake could feel the weight of both their stares, but he pressed on, fully embracing the reckless commitment of a man now in far too deep.
“Yes,” he nodded, his voice unnaturally bright. “He has a girlfriend. Very real. Extremely non-fictional. You just haven’t met her yet.”
Heeseung turned to him slowly, his face a portrait of stunned betrayal. “Jake.”
Jake gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Go with it.”
Grandpa folded his arms, skeptical. “And why haven’t I met this girlfriend?”
Jake hesitated for only half a second—just long enough for his brain to spin a web of half-truths and whole lies. “Well, it’s still new. They only started seeing each other last month. And Heeseung’s, you know…” He looked at his boss meaningfully. “Shy.”
Heeseung let out a sound that could only be described as internal screaming.
“Shy?” Grandpa repeated, eyebrows raised like the concept was foreign.
Jake nodded solemnly. “Very reserved when it comes to feelings. Doesn’t like to share until he’s sure. That’s why he hasn’t said anything. It’s still early, and he’s trying not to mess it up.”
For a moment, Grandpa said nothing.
Just stood there, his sharp eyes narrowing, gears visibly turning behind them like he was piecing together a very juicy puzzle.
Then—“It’s that… Bread Girl, isn’t it?”
Heeseung blinked. “Bread girl?”
The name rang a bell. Faintly. Something Grandpa had muttered earlier about a chaotic woman who’d been assaulting his company’s carb inventory with reckless abandon. Right. Jake’s friend. The one who'd been in his conference room. The one who chewed like it was a competitive sport and wiped her mouth on her sleeve.
Jake’s eyes widened in alarm. “You… you saw her?”
“She knocked into me on her way out of the conference room just now,” Grandpa said, nostrils flaring like he was reliving the moment. “Nearly knocked my cane out of my hand. I was ready to launch into a full lecture on manners and public decency—until I saw the amount of bread she had crammed in her arms.”
He smiled, clearly delighted. “That’s when I knew. She wasn’t being rude. She was just in love. Hungry and in love. My favorite combination.” And without further warning, he pulled Heeseung into a firm, proud hug. “Keeping my granddaughter-in-law well-fed. That’s my boy.”
Heeseung stood there like a mannequin in a hostage scenario, arms limp at his sides, staring over Grandpa’s shoulder with wide, blinking disbelief. His gaze locked on Jake, who looked dangerously close to either exploding with laughter or faking his own death.
Was he going to throw his best friend under the bus?
Apparently, yes.
“Yep,” Jake said with a helpless shrug. “That’s her.”
Heeseung opened his mouth to protest—but then paused. The wheels in his brain, previously stuck in panic mode, began to turn. Slowly, reluctantly, but undeniably. There was an idea forming. A stupid, dangerous, possibly reputation-ruining idea.
But it might just work.
“She’s… shy,” Jake added, already spinning the web a little further, clearly hoping Heeseung would not kill him in his sleep later. “Which is why she hasn’t been introduced yet. It’s still… new.”
Grandpa pulled back just enough to give Heeseung a squint of suspicion. “New?”
Heeseung hesitated.
And then, with the kind of sigh one gives right before jumping off a metaphorical cliff, he nodded. “Yeah. We, uh… only started seeing each other last month.”
“She’s still adjusting,” Heeseung continued, falling into the role with the grim acceptance of a man who’d rather fake a relationship than go on another one of Grandpa’s curated matchmaking setups. “Not really used to… all this.”
“All this?” Grandpa gestured around the office.
“The… CEO thing,” Heeseung said, waving vaguely. “The attention. The—uh—pressure. You know how it is.”
Grandpa narrowed his eyes further, scrutinizing his grandson with the intensity of a man deciding whether to believe a magician or demand to see what’s up his sleeve.
Finally, after a beat of silence: “So you’re saying the girl who wiped her face with her sleeve in your conference room... is your girlfriend.”
Heeseung nodded once. “Yes?"
Grandpa considered. Then smiled. “Well, damn. That explains the crumbs.”
Heeseung exhaled slowly, like he’d just avoided death by PowerPoint. “So you’ll cancel the SunTech date now?”
Grandpa chuckled, already heading toward the door. “Of course, of course. I would never interfere in true love. But now that I know she’s real…” He paused dramatically at the door. “I expect to meet her properly next week. Bring her to dinner. No excuses. And tell her to bring an appetite. There will be baguettes.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
Silence.
Then Jake leaned forward, voice dry and just the right amount of judgmental. “You do realize what you just did, right?”
Heeseung leaned back in his chair, groaning as he pinched the bridge of his nose like he could physically squeeze the consequences out of existence. “Jake… I’m gonna need your friend’s phone number.”
Jake stared at him. Blinking. Processing.
“She’s going to kill me,” he muttered.
—-
You were halfway up the street, your backpack tugging at your shoulder and your feet dragging after a long day, when someone came jogging toward you from the bus stop.
“Hey! Hey hey—!” Jake’s voice rang out, breathless but chipper, his hand waving like he was flagging down a taxi.
You squinted at him. “Why are you running like I owe you money?”
He didn’t bother answering. Just grinned—way too wide, way too bright—and looped his arm through yours, tugging you along.
“I brought you dinner,” he announced, tone suspiciously light.
You stopped walking, brows pinched. “What?”
Jake held up a plastic bag in front of your face with exaggerated pride. The aroma hit you first, warm and familiar. You peeked inside.
Your eyes widened. “Is this—Sue’s? As in the good roast chicken?”
“With the chili oil packets,” Jake said smugly, clearly pleased with himself.
“You went all the way across town?” you asked, mouth falling open as you cradled the bag like it was gold.
He nodded, almost bouncing. “And there’s more.”
You narrowed your eyes. “More?”
“I ordered your bubble tea too. It should be here any minute.”
You gasped, hand flying to your chest. “Taro oat milk with brown sugar pearls?”
Jake mimicked a solemn oath, placing a hand over his heart. “Taro oat milk. Brown sugar pearls. No ice. Less sweet. Just how you like it.”
Your face lit up immediately. “You’re my favorite person. EVER!”
“I know,” he said, leaning into you with an overly sweet smile. “Just remember...that I love you. I love you. Deeply. Eternally. Unconditionally.”
You snorted, nudging him away with your elbow. “Okay, drama queen.”
But then he paused. His voice dipped just slightly, soft but steady. “I’m serious. I love you.”
You froze for a second.
Your smile faltered.
There was something off in his tone—too sincere, too heavy for a roast chicken and bubble tea run. You turned to look at him properly.
“Jake,” you said carefully.
He straightened, schooling his face into something resembling innocence. “Yeah?”
Your eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
Jake blinked, feigning confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You only say ‘I love you’ like that when something’s wrong. It’s your guilty voice. So what is it? Did you clog the sink again? Spill something on the couch? Sign me up for something I didn’t agree to?”
His laugh came out high-pitched and thin. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Jake.”
“It’s not bad,” he said quickly, holding up both hands.
“Oh my God,” you groaned. “What did you do?”
“It’s not illegal,” he added, stepping back slightly as you took a slow, threatening step forward.
“Jake.”
He held out the roast chicken bag like a shield. “Eat first. Yell later.”
You snatched the bag but kept your gaze locked on him, lips pressed into a flat line. “Talk.”
He scratched the back of his neck, clearly stalling, eyes darting around like he was hoping a car would hit him and end the conversation.
—
The door to your shared apartment swung open with a slam, and you stormed in like a woman possessed.
Jake had barely made it through the front door before you launched yourself at him like a sleep-deprived hurricane.
“YOU—YOU ABSOLUTE MENACE—”
“Wait—WAIT—THE CHICKEN—!” he squeaked, still trying to kick his shoes off as you flailed your arms with righteous fury.
You were half-thrashing, half-swatting at him with the plastic bag still clutched in your hand, the scent of roasted garlic and chili oil trailing behind every slap. Jake yelped, stumbling backward as he grabbed the nearest couch cushion to shield himself.
“IT’S FIVE HUNDRED PER DATE!” he shrieked. “WHY ARE YOU YELLING—”
“I’M YELLING BECAUSE YOU SOLD ME LIKE I'M SOMETHING YOU CAN BUY FROM THE STORE!” you cried, swinging the chicken like it owed you rent.
Right then, Jungwon’s bedroom door flew open with a bang. His hair was sticking up in all directions, eyes wide with panic, an oversized hoodie hanging off one shoulder like it had lost the will to live.
“WHAT’S GOING ON?” he demanded, voice still hoarse with sleep. “Is someone dying?!”
“HES A FUCKING IDIOT, THAT’S WHAT’S GOING ON!” you shouted, jabbing a finger at Jake like a prosecutor presenting Exhibit A.
From behind the couch cushion, Jake winced. “Okay, I understand that you're mad."
Jungwon blinked, processing. “Dude, what the hell did you do?"
"HE WANTS ME TO FAKE DATE HIS BOSS!” you screamed again, nearly vibrating with rage.
Jake raised a finger. “For money,” he added helpfully, as if that made the entire situation perfectly reasonable.
Jungwon stood there for a beat, then tilted his head. “...Is the boss hot?”
The entire room fell into silence.
You turned to Jake slowly, brows lifting. “Wait. Is the boss hot?”
Jake’s grin spread, lazy and far too pleased with himself. “You tell me. You met him.”
Your brain stuttered. Froze. Replayed the memory of a tall man in a dark suit, judging you with cold eyes while you stuffed your face with carbs like a gremlin.
“Oh my god,” you muttered, dropping onto the couch like gravity had finally won. “You’re all insane.”
Jungwon wandered over and sat beside you, already reaching for the plastic bag. “I’m just here for the roast chicken,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Can someone pass me a leg?”
Jake, still crouched like a man dodging emotional bullets, gently placed the bag on the coffee table like it was a sacred offering. Then he looked over at you, head tilted, eyes wide and hopeful.
“So,” he said softly, “can I explain now? No hitting this time?”
You stared at him.
He grinned anyway.
And unfortunately for him, he was still within arm’s reach.
—
You sat on the couch like a judge ready to deliver a life sentence, arms crossed so tightly your shoulders were starting to cramp. The look on your face could’ve wilted houseplants. Jake, for once in his life, had the good sense to sit on the floor at a safe distance, hands folded on the coffee table like he was about to pitch a startup you were morally opposed to.
Jungwon sat cross-legged between you, gnawing on a chicken leg and swiveling his head left and right like a referee at a very dramatic tennis match.
“So,” Jake began carefully, voice high and overly gentle, “first of all, I just want to say that I love and appreciate you—”
“No,” you cut in, eyes locked on him. “Start with the part where you volunteered me—your best friend, your roommate, your tragically broke companion in poverty—to pretend to date Lee Heeseung. The CEO. The multi-billionaire. Your boss.”
Jake opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again.
Jungwon, through a mouthful of chicken, offered, “That guy’s scarier than my thesis supervisor. And mine once made someone cry over a missing footnote.”
“THANK YOU!” you shouted, pointing at Jake like you were about to sentence him to community service.
Jake threw his hands up. “Okay, okay, yes, I panicked! Grandpa Lee was in the office, demanding to know why Heeseung was single, and I didn’t know what to say! So your name just—came out!”
“Like a demon leaving your body?” you snapped.
Jake pointed a finger at you. “Also, this is kind of your fault!”
You blinked. “Excuse me?”
“HE SAID YOU BUMPED INTO HIM!” Jake practically shouted, voice cracking. “And he saw, like, four bread rolls in your arms!”
“It was three!” you yelled, scandalized.
Jake flailed. “Okay, THREE! Doesn’t change the fact that Grandpa Lee saw you, assumed you were stealing company bread, and decided obviously you and Heeseung were secretly dating.”
You stared at him. “In what world does that even make sense—”
“SO THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” Jake yelled dramatically, pointing like you’d been caught on a crime scene.
You gaped. “I didn’t know the old man I bumped into was Heeseung’s grandfather! How is that my fault?!”
“I don’t know!” Jake shouted back. “But somehow it is!”
Jungwon raised a hand without looking up. “To be fair, you did look suspicious carrying that much bread.”
“I WAS HUNGRY!” you barked.
Jake groaned. “Look, I didn’t plan this, okay? It happened. It’s done. And now we just need to go along with it for a few fake dates—three, four tops—and we’re good.”
You glared. “This is literally fraud.”
Jake held up a finger. “This is capitalism—and you get paid. Five hundred per date.”
You opened your mouth to yell again—then paused.
Because five hundred… times four…
Your gaze dropped to the roast chicken on the table, suspiciously thoughtful.
Jake leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “You’re doing the math.”
“No.”
“You are.”
Jungwon didn’t miss a beat. “Two grand.”
“Shut up,” you and Jake snapped in unison.
You sagged into the couch like the weight of student loans had finally won. “He’s not even going to like me.”
Jake tilted his head. “He already noticed you. Asked about the girl who ‘wiped her mouth with her sleeve like she was raised in the wild.’”
Jungwon snorted so hard he nearly choked.
You exhaled, long and slow. “...Fine.”
Jake’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.
“But if this backfires,” you said, pointing a chicken drumstick at him with all the gravitas of a loaded weapon, “I’m shitting in your room.”
Jake didn’t even blink. “That’s fair.”
Jungwon nodded solemnly. “Reasonable terms.”
—
As Heeseung always said—often, and with great pride—he wasn’t the relationship type.
Too much work. Too much noise. Too many unnecessary emotions clogging up the schedule.
People around him dated like it was a seasonal hobby. Fell in love in spring, broke up by fall, recycled the whole cycle again by winter. But for Heeseung? It had never been appealing. He didn’t need anyone. He liked being alone. He thrived alone.
He was an expert at sidestepping dating scandals. A pro at slipping out of flirty conversations with a well-timed smile and a conveniently urgent phone call. He could survive dinner parties full of “When are you getting married?” aunties without so much as a twitch in his left eye.
Composed. Controlled. Untouchable.
Until now.
Now, he was sitting in his office—his very sleek, very expensive office—surrounded by floor-to-ceiling glass, watching the Seoul skyline stretch out like a smug reminder that his life was supposed to be pristine.
And it was. Mostly.
His suit was charcoal grey, custom-tailored. His coffee, bitter and scalding, sat in its perfectly symmetrical spot on the table. His hair, of course, was slicked back with enough precision to win a military medal. Everything in his life was polished.
Everything… except this one absurd detail.
He exhaled slowly.
Jake.
Jake and his chronically reckless mouth.
This wasn’t the usual “Oops, I told the intern you’d review their pitch” kind of trouble.
This was “Oops, I told my grandpa you’re dating a girl you don’t know, and now she’s coming to a meeting at 2:30” kind of trouble.
Heeseung had handled high-stakes mergers. He’d stared down stone-faced investors and charmed half a dozen billionaires before lunch. But now? Now he was apparently in a fake relationship.
And paying for it.
Five hundred dollars per date.
He wasn’t sure which part offended him more—the relationship, or the invoice.
Jake had made it sound like she was some half-wild creature who pillaged the office pantry and vanished into the wind. Which… wasn't entirely inaccurate. But what Jake didn’t know—and what Heeseung would rather jump out the boardroom window than admit—was that he had noticed her.
Actually, he’d remembered her quite clearly.
Big eyes. Crumbs on her cheek. Confidence like she owned the place, despite clearly not belonging there. She’d looked him dead in the eye with a mouthful of bread and the pure, unbothered energy of someone who’d never been told “no” in her life. Honestly? It was a little bit impressive.
And yes. Fine. Maybe she was cute.
Not that it mattered.
Because Heeseung didn’t do feelings. He didn’t get involved. He didn’t believe in all that heart-fluttering, stars-aligning nonsense.
Cute or not, this wasn’t going to turn into anything.
It was just a favor. A fake setup. A temporary solution to a very loud grandfather.
That was all.
Heeseung leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and breathed through his growing irritation. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to perform feelings. He didn’t want to drink overpriced coffee with some girl pretending to be his girlfriend so his matchmaking grandfather could sleep peacefully at night.
A quick glance at his watch: 2:27 p.m.
—
You were pinching Jake’s side like your entire financial future depended on it.
“Ow!” he yelped for the third time, swatting at your hand. “Okay, I need those ribs!”
You didn’t care.
You were terrified.
No—beyond terrified. Every synonym in the English language applied. Petrified, horrified, on-the-verge-of-spontaneous-combustion. Your heart was trying to launch itself into space. Your soul was threatening to exit your body via sheer panic.
“Breathe,” Jake said gently, trying to peel your claw-like grip off his hoodie. “You’re gonna be fine. You look amazing. Honestly, if you weren’t my best friend, I would've totally tried to kiss you by now.”
“You’re not helping, Jaeyun,” you hissed, teeth clenched, eyes wide and manic like you’d just seen the end of civilization.
“Right, sorry,” he said quickly—still grinning, because Jake had zero fear of death, apparently.
You glanced at your watch.
2:25.
Ten minutes until showtime.
Your heart was doing Olympic-level gymnastics. Your stomach was performing Cirque du Soleil. Your brain was stuck on a loop of elevator music and “what if” scenarios.
You looked ahead—at the sleek, modern glass door of Heeseung’s office. Too clean. Too intimidating. Too expensive-looking. Even the potted plants screamed, You don’t belong here.
The panic hit like a freight train.
Without thinking, you grabbed Jake’s arm and yanked him back, nearly slamming both of you into a very offended-looking potted plant near the elevator.
“I can’t do this,” you whispered, voice shaking, hands clammy. “I cannot do this.”
Jake blinked. “Whoa—okay. Deep breath. You can do this. You’re just nervous.”
“Nervous is messing up a group project. This is like—I don’t know—faking a relationship with a corporate cyborg while praying I don’t end up blacklisted from every job ever.”
Jake made a soothing gesture. “He’s just a guy. A guy in a very expensive suit with the social skills of a brick and a caffeine addiction that’s borderline medical.”
You let out a half-sob. “Jake, what if I say something weird? What if I trip? What if he hates me on sight and then cancels the whole thing and somehow calls my school and gets me expelled just for existing—”
“Hey.” Jake grabbed your shoulders, firm but gentle. “Look at me.”
You did. Barely.
“You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re gorgeous. You’re the only person I trust with this because you’re the only one who could handle him. Even when he’s acting like some emotionally stunted AI in a suit.”
You sniffed. “I hate you.”
Jake smiled, soft and annoyingly sincere. “Love you too. Now breathe, princess.”
You inhaled. Exhaled.
Inhaled again. Slower.
It helped. Barely. But it helped.
Jake stepped back and nudged you gently toward the glass doors. “Go in there. Pretend you like him. Pretend you’re not thinking about chicken. Smile. Look mysterious. Say something deep like, ‘I don’t really believe in love.’ He’ll be confused. That’s how you win.”
A dry laugh escaped you—half squirrel, half dying engine. But still. A laugh.
Your watch blinked again.
2:28.
Showtime.
You straightened your shoulders, fixed your expression into something halfway pleasant, and took a step forward.
Let the corporate fake dating games begin.
—-
Heeseung sat alone in his office, posture perfect, fingers wrapped loosely around a coffee cup. His suit was sharp, pressed so crisply it practically gleamed. His expression, as always, unreadable.
Except for the slight crease in his brow.
Because she was late.
He glanced at his watch.
2:31.
Not catastrophic. But still. He didn’t like being made to wait. Especially not by someone he was paying.
He exhaled quietly, sipped his coffee, and shifted his gaze to the window—
—just in time to watch a girl crash headfirst into the glass office door.
He blinked.
There was a muffled thud, followed by a dramatic, “OW, MY FACE!” and Jake’s voice yelling, “OH MY GOD, ARE YOU OKAY?!”
The girl stumbled back, one hand pressed to her forehead, the other still valiantly clutching a bubble tea with a bent straw and a leaking lid. Her dress was cute, her hair a little windswept, and her face was lit up in full, blazing embarrassment.
Heeseung stared.
“This is your fault,” she snapped at Jake, rubbing the growing red mark on her forehead.
“If you hadn’t roped me into this, I wouldn’t have walked straight into your invisible death door.”
Jake gasped, wounded. “My fault?! Are you blind?! The door wasn’t even moving!”
“I was panicking! I thought you were going to shove me through it like a sacrificial lamb!”
“You were already walking!”
“You said, ‘smile and act normal’ right before I hit it. What part of that was helpful?!”
“You looked cute! Until, you know… the impact.”
Inside the office, Heeseung remained still. Coffee in hand. Silent. Watching.
Through the glass, their chaotic little argument carried on without shame. You were waving your hands in frustration; Jake was holding your elbow with exaggerated concern, both exasperated and wildly entertained.
It was loud. Messy. Unprofessional.
It was… oddly funny.
A faint tug pulled at the corner of Heeseung’s mouth before he even noticed it.
Not quite a laugh. Not quite a smirk.
Just… the suggestion of something warm.
Jake finally spotted him and started waving like a man trying to signal an aircraft.
“Let’s go already! He hates tardiness.”
You turned.
Your eyes met Heeseung’s through the glass—annoyed, wide-eyed, bubble tea still clutched like a fallen soldier in one hand.
Heeseung raised his coffee in silent acknowledgment.
And nodded.
You swallowed. “Great,” you muttered. “He saw all of that, didn’t he?”
“Every second,” Jake said cheerfully.
You groaned and took a cautious step forward. Jake placed a hand on your back and gently—but undeniably—shoved you through the door like you were an offering to royalty.
He guided you across the room like a handler walking a nervous show dog.
“Mr. Lee,” Jake said smoothly, already shifting into his polished Assistant Mode. “This is my friend.”
Heeseung didn’t respond right away. His gaze remained fixed on his coffee mug, fingers tapping lightly along the rim like it was conducting an orchestra only he could hear.
You stood stiffly in front of him, hands clasped like you were about to deliver a public apology. Jake stood beside you with the smug energy of a man watching chaos unfold exactly as he planned.
Finally, Heeseung looked up.
His eyes moved from Jake to you.
To your forehead.
Back to your eyes.
“…You’re late,” he said flatly.
You blinked. “It’s 2:32.”
“Yes,” Heeseung replied. “Which is not 2:30. Like we originally planned.”
Your jaw twitched. “Psycho,” you muttered, just loud enough for a small god to hear.
Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
You straightened. “Sorry. I meant… yes, I know. Won’t happen again.”
Jake nudged your side and whispered, “Off to a strong start.”
—
The past five minutes were the longest of your life.
You stared at your feet. Then your thumbs. Then the floor again, like something might appear to save you. A trapdoor, maybe. Or the sweet embrace of the earth swallowing you whole.
Heeseung, meanwhile, had been staring at you. The entire time.
Not speaking. Not blinking. Just… watching.
Jake sat between you like a silent referee, sipping his coffee with the energy of someone watching a sitcom he’d accidentally created.
It was weird. Weird. Weird. Unbearably weird.
Finally, mercifully, Heeseung cleared his throat. The sound cut through the silence like a scalpel.
“I prepared a contract,” he said, voice calm. Businesslike. As if you weren’t about two minutes away from passing out in his office.
You blinked. “A contract? For something as—” you stopped, but it was too late—“as stupid as this?”
There was a pause.
Heeseung’s brow lifted. Just slightly. “Stupid?”
You froze. Your mouth opened. Nothing helpful came out.
“I didn’t mean—it’s not—I’M stupid,” you blurted, clapping your hands over your face. “That’s what I meant. I’m stupid. Please ignore everything I say for the next ten years.”
Jake choked on his drink.
You kept your face buried in your palms, wondering if anyone in the building would trade places with you. Janitor? Security guard? Plant in the corner?
Heeseung said nothing. For a long second.
Then, very dryly: “Good to know.”
You groaned.
Jake leaned over, voice low and unhelpfully cheerful. “You’re doing great.”
“Mr. Lee has written up a draft of the contract,” Jake said, slipping into full assistant mode, posture straight, tone clipped and professional.
You squinted at him. “Ew. Why are you talking like that?”
Jake glanced at you, then back at Heeseung with a sigh. “I’m working, you idiot,” he muttered under his breath.
“Oh. Right.” You scratched your neck, sheepish. “Forgot.”
Across the table, Heeseung bit his bottom lip—subtly, quickly—but it didn’t go unnoticed. His gaze lingered on you, and for the first time since you walked into the room, something shifted. His eyes didn’t look annoyed anymore.
Amused, maybe. Just slightly.
Dangerously close to smiling.
Jake cleared his throat, snapping back to task. “In the contract,” he continued, “you’ll find a breakdown of the terms—including Mr. Lee’s expectations, your responsibilities as his… companion—” he winced a little at the word “companion,” “—and a list of things you’re explicitly not allowed to do.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Like what? Wear Crocs in public?”
Jake didn’t miss a beat. “Actually, yes. Clause six.”
Your jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”
Heeseung finally spoke, smooth and unbothered. “I don’t joke about footwear.”
You stared at him.
He stared back.
Jake leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee again like he was watching live theatre.
“Okay… and what else?” you asked, trying—and failing—to sound chill.
Jake cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “Clause five…Physical…”
Heeseung looked up, expectant. “Yes?”
Jake made a face like he was already regretting his entire existence. “Do I… have to explain it?”
“Yes,” Heeseung said calmly, without even looking up from the contract. “It’s in the terms.”
You squinted at him. “Terms? What is this, fake dating or joining the military?”
Jake pressed on. “Physical contact. Mr. Lee has stated that there should be… none. Or at least not without clear, mutual agreement. No uninvited touching. No sudden… anything. Basically—don’t grope the CEO.”
You choked. “What?! I wasn’t—Why would—That wasn’t even on the table—”
Jake raised both hands. “I’m just reading the clause!”
Your face went red. Hot. Instantly.
You turned to Heeseung, eyes wide. “Not that I was planning to touch you or anything! Like, why would I—Not that you’re—okay, you are technically—”
You made a sound that wasn't even a word and slapped a hand over your own mouth.
Jake let out a slow, gleeful exhale. “This is so much better than I imagined.”
You groaned and sank lower in your seat. “I hate it here.”
Heeseung, annoyingly composed, glanced up at you. His expression unreadable… but his lips twitched. Barely.
You swore he was enjoying this.
You had been in the office for an hour.
One full hour.
Sixty minutes of your life you were never getting back, spent listening to Jake read through a contract like a local news anchor trying to make tax reform sound exciting.
“…Clause twelve: Should the second party—meaning you—be asked to attend any corporate function, you will refrain from referring to the first party—meaning Mr. Lee—as ‘my sugar daddy,’ even in jest.”
You blinked. “That… needed to be clarified?”
Jake didn’t look up. “You’d be surprised.”
You slowly slid further down in your seat, gripping your bubble tea like it was the last tether to your sanity. Your legs had gone numb. Your dignity had long since packed its bags and fled the room. And the worst part?
You still had to sign this thing.
All this—for a whopping two grand.
Across the table, Heeseung was unmoved. He hadn’t spoken in the last twenty minutes, just sipped his now-cold coffee and occasionally made a small note in the margins like he was preparing for a stockholders’ meeting instead of a fake relationship.
Jake flipped the page. “Clause thirteen…”
You groaned. “There are thirteen?”
Jake looked up. “We’re only halfway through.”
You dropped your head to the table.
This was your life now.
—
You had officially entered hour two of your Fake Dating Orientation.
Jake, your overly enthusiastic best friend and traitor to your dignity, was seated across from you like a talk show host who’d been waiting all day for the drama. He’d already gone through the entire contract. Twice. And now, unfortunately, it was time for the “chemistry test.”
“We’re going to do a little practice,” he announced, clasping his hands together. “Let’s see how well you two can sell this.”
You blinked. “Sell what, exactly?”
Jake beamed. “That you’re in love, of course.”
You visibly recoiled. “Oh god.”
Heeseung, seated beside you, didn’t say anything, but his entire body tensed like he’d just been told he had to perform on a game show. His fingers gripped the armrest, jaw tight.
You glanced at him.
He glanced at you.
Then you both looked in opposite directions so fast it would’ve given a chiropractor whiplash.
Jake leaned forward, utterly enjoying himself. “Okay. Pretend you’re on a casual third date. You’re into each other. You’re comfortable. There’s hand-holding. Eye contact. Smiles. Soft laughter. Possibly some light touching of the knee if you're really ambitious.”
You turned your head just enough to catch Heeseung already looking your way. Your eyes met. Instantly, you looked back at the floor.
Your cheeks were burning.
So were his ears.
Jake let out the loudest, most exaggerated sigh in human history. “You two haven’t even held hands yet.”
“I don’t—this is ridiculous. I don’t need acting lessons,” Heeseung muttered, running a hand through his hair in mild frustration, clearly more flustered than he was willing to admit.
“Clearly you do,” you mumbled under your breath.
He turned his head slowly. “Your face is flushed.”
You raised a brow. “Your ears are red.”
That shut him up.
For a second, the two of you just stared at each other. Not blinking. Not smiling. Like two cats waiting to see who flinched first.
Then you both sneered. Simultaneously.
Jake, watching from the corner of the room like a director overseeing a painfully awkward indie film, clapped once. “Amazing. So natural. This is going great. Really convincing chemistry.”
You and Heeseung didn’t look away from each other.
He raised an eyebrow like this was some kind of silent battle.
You narrowed your eyes in return, mouth twitching.
Jake clapped his hands together like a game show host about to announce the bonus round. “Alright. Let’s take it out there.”
You squinted at him. “Out where? Hell?”
Jake ignored the comment. “The office. The hallway. The real world. You two need a test run.”
Heeseung exhaled through his nose. “This is stupid.”
Jake raised a brow. “Should I just go ahead and reschedule that SunTech date, then? I’m sure she’d love a Thursday dinner.”
Heeseung shot him a look. “You’re forgetting you work for me.”
Jake smiled sweetly. “And you’re forgetting you need me to fix this mess.”
You, meanwhile, were sprawled on the couch like an exhausted Victorian heroine. “I’m bored.”
Jake turned, hands on hips. “You’re getting paid five hundred dollars per date to fake-date a CEO. Try to look alive.”
“Fine,” you groaned, hauling yourself up. “Let’s get this over with. What exactly do you want us to do? Gaze longingly into each other’s souls and whisper sweet nothings about fiscal responsibility?”
Heeseung rolled his eyes. “She’s really dramatic.”
“And you’re really uptight,” you shot back.
Jake clapped again, delighted. “Perfect. Just like a real couple.”
You both glared at him.
“Okay,” Jake continued, stepping into director mode. “Stage one: casual physical affection. We’re going for subtle intimacy. Nothing over-the-top. Just enough to make people go, ‘Hmm. They might be sleeping together.’”
Heeseung nearly choked on air.
You blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
Jake gestured between you like a choreographer. “Heeseung, arm around her waist. And you, try not to look like you’re being taken hostage.”
Heeseung looked vaguely alarmed. “Do I have to?”
“Yes,” Jake said cheerfully. “Like you’ve touched another human being before. Preferably without looking like it’s a tax audit.”
There was a long pause.
Then, reluctantly, Heeseung stepped closer. His hand hovered awkwardly near your waist like it had never been introduced to the concept of touch.
You raised your eyebrows. “You’re not disarming a bomb.”
He cleared his throat. “You’re… shorter than I thought.”
“I’m wearing flats.”
“Still. Noted.”
Jake watched with glee as Heeseung finally, finally placed his hand on your waist—so lightly it was barely there. You tensed anyway. Because apparently your nervous system hadn’t signed off on this level of contact.
Jake turned to you. “And you, sweetheart, try not to smile like you’re being held at gunpoint.”
You bared your teeth in what could only generously be described as a grimace.
Heeseung glanced at you. “That’s your fake dating face?”
“It’s a work in progress.”
“You look like you’re about to offer me life insurance.”
You sighed. “Okay, let’s not pretend you’re Mr. Suave. You touched me like I’m made of porcelain and trauma.”
“I didn’t want to overstep.”
Jake, now leaning on the doorway like a proud parent at a talent show, was positively glowing. “This is amazing. I should be charging admission.”
You groaned. “Are we done yet?”
“Almost,” Jake said, eyes twinkling. “Now walk out there. Just a quick lap around the office. Arm around her waist. Maybe whisper something flirty if you’re feeling bold. Bonus points if someone drops their coffee.”
You turned to Heeseung, who looked like he’d rather be hit by a bus.
He glanced back at you.
You both exhaled.
And in perfect, miserable unison, you muttered, “Let’s just get this over with.”
—-
At the entrance of Heeseung’s office, Jake had—because of course he did—another brilliant idea.
“Let’s try a… scenario,” he’d said, eyes gleaming like he’d just discovered a new form of social torture. “Something romantic. Circumstantial. Like you just got caught in a moment. You know, one of those ‘oh, didn’t see you there, just happened to be holding each other and laughing softly’ kind of deals.”
You and Heeseung stared at him in silence.
Jake pointed to the glass wall just beside the door. “Over there. That’s your stage.”
So now, here you were—pressed awkwardly to the side of the office entrance, standing shoulder to shoulder with Lee Heeseung, the human embodiment of a luxury watch ad.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
“I’m gonna be completely honest,” you whispered, glancing up at him. “I forgot the plan.”
He looked down at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “There shouldn’t be a plan.”
You frowned. “What?”
“This kind of thing,” he said, voice lower now, thoughtful, “should be natural. If we rehearse every little move, it’ll look fake.”
You didn’t respond right away.
Because honestly?
You had no idea how to make it look real.
You’d never been on a fake date before.
Actually, you’d never even been on a real date.
You’d spent your entire life chasing deadlines, side gigs, tuition payments, and discount ramen packs—love had never exactly made it into the schedule. Flirting was an optional elective you never had time to take. The closest you’d ever gotten to romantic tension was arguing with a vending machine.
And now here you were. Being gently stared at by a man with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass and eyes like he was actually trying to understand you. You had half a mind to pull the fire alarm and flee.
Instead, you cleared your throat and said, “Right. Natural. Got it. So should I just… laugh at nothing? Flip my hair and pretend you said something charming?”
Heeseung smirked—actually smirked—and looked away. “You’re really bad at this.”
“I’m trying,” you hissed.
“I can tell.”
You gave him a sharp look. “Well, you’re not exactly oozing romance either, Mr. Emotionally Constipated.”
He huffed a small laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Do you always insult the people you fake date?”
“Just the ones who critique my performance before the show starts.”
He glanced back at you then, gaze lingering a bit longer this time. “You’re nervous.”
You stiffened. “No, I’m not.”
“You’re fidgeting.”
“No, I’m—”
“You keep tapping your fingers.”
You looked down. Your hand was, in fact, tapping against your thigh like it was performing a solo.
“…It’s called rhythm,” you muttered.
Heeseung just gave you a look.
And for a moment, just a moment, the tension shifted. Slightly softer. Slightly less unbearable.
Heeseung exhaled slowly and said, almost reluctantly, “Let’s just… be still for a second. Pretend we’re mid-conversation. Look relaxed.”
You nodded.
Neither of you moved.
From inside the office, Jake was pressed dramatically against the glass, holding his phone up like he was filming a nature documentary.
You both ignored him.
Mostly.
Then, quietly, Heeseung said, “You’ve never done this before, have you?”
You blinked. “What, pretend to be someone’s fake girlfriend?”
He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow.
You hesitated. Then sighed. “I’ve never been any kind of girlfriend.”
Heeseung looked at you.
Not judgmental. Not surprised.
Just… quiet.
And for the first time, you wished this moment wasn’t fake. Just for a second.
Then Jake knocked on the glass like a proud zookeeper.
“THAT LOOKS AMAZING!” he yelled. “Now do a forehead touch!”
You turned back to Heeseung, mortified.
“Don’t,” you warned.
Heeseung nodded. “Absolutely not.”
But when he looked at you again, his ears were pink. And this time, yours were too.
—-
The next few days were absolutely unhinged.
When Jake told you Heeseung was meticulous, you thought he meant the occasional Google Calendar reminder. What he actually meant was: this man plans your fake relationship like it’s a Fortune 500 company launch.
From Monday to Friday, he had everything scheduled down to the minute.
Monday
"Coffee shop. 2 p.m. Look approachable."
Those were his exact words. Not cute. Not casual. Approachable. Like you were a storefront. You showed up early—naturally—and promptly spilled oat milk across the table trying to jab your straw into your cup. It exploded like a dairy crime scene.
Heeseung just stared at you. Then slid a napkin across the table, deadpan. You muttered, “You're welcome for the entertainment.”
You made fun of his black coffee. “You drink it like a bitter old man who’s lost faith in humanity.”
He looked at your lavender oat milk iced monstrosity. “And your drink choices are one of a six-year-old’s.”
You laughed.
He didn’t.
But his eyes softened. Just a little.
Tuesday
PR strategy, according to Jake: “Be seen. Look adorable. Pretend you like each other.”
You: showed up in his office.
Also you: immediately raided the pantry and stole three muffins.
Heeseung watched from his desk. Said nothing. Pretended to type very seriously while clearly watching you.
You plopped down on his couch, opened your laptop, and made very dramatic “working” noises.
At one point, your laptop screen dimmed. Before you could even react, he walked over silently and plugged in your charger.
You blinked. “Oh. Thanks.” He just shrugged and returned to his desk. But you caught it. The ghost of a smile as he sat down. Like he was trying not to like you. Failing, obviously.

Wednesday
You accompanied him to a fake business lunch.
There were women in designer outfits, expensive perfume clouding the air, and stiletto heels you were sure doubled as weapons. They looked at you like you’d crawled out from under the table.You sat there in an old blouse your mom gave you, heart thumping in your chest, suddenly hyper-aware of the ketchup stain you thought you removed.
You fidgeted. Overthought. Considered hiding under the table.
Then Heeseung leaned in, so close his breath grazed your ear. “You’re doing fine.” That was it. Just those words.
And you didn’t remember a single thing after that. You just nodded and smiled and let those three words replay in your head like a calming song.
Later, in the car, you kicked off your heels like they’d personally betrayed you. He raised an eyebrow.
“A little dramatic, no?”
“I’ve suffered,” you whined.
He handed you a water bottle and rolled the windows down.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
You rested your feet on the dash. Caught him looking at you at a red light.
He looked away too fast. Suspiciously fast.
Thursday
You brought takeout to his office, unannounced.
He looked up when you entered, blinking like you’d just done something absurd. “You brought food?”
“Yes. Humans eat. Shocking, I know.”
You sat on the floor beside his desk. He joined you. In a full suit. Cross-legged like a model student, tie undone, sleeves rolled to his forearms. You offered him a dumpling. He took it. No hesitation.
You grinned. “Isn’t it so good?”
He chewed. “Greasy.”
“But good?”
He hesitated. “If I say yes, will you stop bothering me?”
“No.”
“Then yes.”
You pretended not to notice the way his eyes lingered on your face longer than they needed to.
Friday
You were late. By five minutes.
He texted: “Late.”
You texted back: “Cry about it.”
He didn’t reply.
You arrived out of breath, annoyed, hair windswept and bag hanging off one shoulder like you’d run a marathon to get there.
He just handed you a drink. Your favorite.
Didn’t say anything. Didn’t look smug. Just passed it to you with one hand and opened the door to a rooftop garden with the other. Of course he had a rooftop garden. Because he was secretly the male lead of a tragic romantic comedy and you were starting to hate how well the role fit.
You sat on the bench beside him, knees brushing under the table. “You’re so serious all the time,” you said, teasing. “Do you even know how to smile?” He scoffed.
“Do you even know how to tell a joke?”
“Excuse me—I am hilarious.”
“You’re… something.”
—-
You lay in bed, burrito-wrapped in your blanket, one arm tucked under your head and the other dramatically thrown across your eyes like a Victorian ghost overcome by mild emotional instability.
Your ceiling stared back at you like it knew.
And unfortunately, your brain did that thing it loved to do: play a full highlight reel of the past week.
It had been five days.
Five fake dates.
You were getting paid five hundred dollars per day to pretend to like Lee Heeseung.
That was the deal. The entire deal. Nothing more, nothing less.
And honestly? Not a bad one. Amazing hourly rate. Low stakes. You just had to hang out with a man who looked like a luxury perfume ad and acted like a spreadsheet given life.
You could do that.
You had survived retail during Christmas and three years of sharing a bathroom with Jungwon.
And yet… somehow, you were the one spiraling.
Because Heeseung wasn’t awful.
Actually—he was kind of…
Nice.
Underneath the sleek suits and emotionally stunted persona, he was… oddly considerate. The kind of guy who noticed when your laptop was dying and plugged it in without comment. Who remembered your coffee order after one chaotic spill. Who didn’t flinch when you shoved dumplings into his mouth like a sleepover buddy instead of a business partner.
And okay, fine. He was also really easy on the eyes.
With his annoyingly sharp jawline and those lips that were probably illegal in several countries. And the way his tie loosened around his neck by Thursday, and how he laughed—actually laughed—at your dumb joke on Friday.
You groaned and rolled onto your stomach, burying your face into your pillow.
“Nope. No. Absolutely not.”
You barely knew him. You’d been fake-dating for a week. You didn’t even know what kind of music he liked. For all you knew, he could be a hardcore jazz saxophone guy. Or worse—he liked podcasts about finance.
This wasn’t real. You were faking it.
Professionally.
And still…
You wondered what it would feel like to hold his hand with no one watching. No “scene” to pull off. No Grandpa to impress. Just… you. And him. And the quiet weight of something unsaid.
You wondered—horrifyingly—what it would feel like to kiss him.
Just once.
Just to see.
You smacked your forehead. “I need therapy.”
The worst part? It wasn’t even entirely about Heeseung.
You were realizing, in a slow, sinking kind of way, that your romantic life was… embarrassing.
Jake, your best friend-slash-chaos goblin, didn’t count. Jungwon, your honorary brother, sure as hell didn’t count. And your last date had been someone who said “let’s split the bill” and then left you with it.
You hadn’t been around someone kissable in a long time.
And now you were being paid to fake-date someone who might actually ruin your life if you let him.
You groaned into your mattress again.
At this rate, you were going to fall for your fake boyfriend before your first paycheck cleared.
—
Heeseung was not sleeping.
It was after midnight. The city outside was quiet. His entire house was dark.
And all he could think about… was you.
Which made no sense.
You had shown up in his life like a whirlwind. Unpredictable. Loud. Crumb-covered. You drank rainbow-colored lattes and wiped your mouth on your sleeve and called his contract “stupid” without blinking.
But you’d also fed him dumplings on the office floor—the office floor—which he’d never sat on in his life. But then you’d whined, kicked your feet like a brat, and said, “Just join me. Or are you too much of a rich bitch to?”
And that was all it took for Lee Heeseung—the picture of corporate perfection—to sit beside you, cross-legged, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You’d teased him until he smiled without realizing. You’d let your legs rest on the dashboard and talked about nothing like it mattered. And you hadn’t cared who he was. Not the CEO. Not the heir. Just… Heeseung.
He exhaled, staring at the ceiling with all the enthusiasm of a man confronting his own emotional shortcomings.
Was he really catching feelings after five “fake” dates?
Apparently, yes.
Which was alarming.
He had spent his entire adult life navigating business galas and high-end blind dates with elegant, polished women. The kind who wore heels taller than his emotional range. He knew how to charm. How to play the part.
And yet none of them had ever stuck.
None of them made his hands twitch when they leaned in.
None of them made him smile like an idiot when they were five minutes late.
But you?
You with your loud opinions and easy laughter and tendency to steal muffins like they were currency?
You were dangerous.
And you were fake.
A fake girlfriend, in a fake arrangement, for a fake relationship.
And yet here he was—imagining what your hand might feel like in his. What your laugh might sound like in his apartment, in the morning, when you were still sleepy.
Heeseung groaned and dragged a hand down his face.
This wasn’t good.
He was supposed to be managing this. Keeping things professional. Keeping his head clear.
Instead, he was lying awake at 1:34 a.m., thinking about your smile and the way your voice got all soft when you called him out for being too serious.
God help him.
He was catching feelings.
And he was completely, utterly screwed.
part 2
WARNINGS: SMUT so mdni, nsfw twitter link, kisses, clit rubbing, belly bulge, neck grabbing, hair pulling, everything is consensual, cursing, making out, unprotected sex (pls don’t), proofread but i'm sorry if there's mistakes! (Imk if i missed something pls!!)
genre: smut
anon’s req: “i've thought of this alot, heeseung and belly bulges >I//<”
pairing: bf!heeseung x afab!reader
wc: 4k
the evening had settled into a comfortable rhythm as you and heeseung relaxed on the couch in his living room. you were perched on his lap, enjoying the close, intimate proximity. the conversation was light and easy, punctuated by occasional kisses that were sweet and lingering.
so, what’s the plan for the weekend? you asked, your voice teasing as you leaned in for another kiss. heeseung’s lips met yours eagerly, his hands resting gently on your hips. his touch was soft at first, but there was an underlying tension that hinted at a deeper connection.
as you continued talking, you could feel the warmth between you both intensify. heeseung’s hands began to move more deliberately, his fingers grazing your sides with a growing sense of urgency. you shifted slightly on his lap, feeling the evidence of his arousal pressing against you.
you decided to test the waters, rubbing against him in a way that felt both teasing and intentional. the reaction was immediate. heeseung’s breath hitched, and you could sense the tension in his body. a mischievous smile spread across your lips.
seems like you’re enjoying this, you said, your voice low and suggestive. you continued to shift your hips, feeling the warmth growing between you.
heeseung let out a soft groan, his eyes dark with desire. you’re soaking wet, he said, his voice rough with need. his fingers moved to your hips, guiding you closer as he tried to manage the growing urgency. i can feel how much you want this.
the acknowledgment only spurred you on. you shifted your movements to increase the contact, rubbing against him with a more deliberate intent. heeseung’s hands slid down to your thighs, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your clothes.
fuck, you’re so wet, heeseung muttered, his voice strained. he began to rub your clit through your clothes with a focused touch. his movements were slow and deliberate at first, each stroke designed to build the pressure and intensity.
the sensation was overwhelming. you could feel every touch as if it was magnified, and your breath grew heavier with each passing moment. heeseung’s fingers worked in a steady rhythm, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp and moan.
does that feel good? he asked, his voice a mix of anticipation and desire. his eyes were fixed on your face, watching every reaction as he continued his ministrations.
yes, you gasped, your voice barely a whisper. it feels incredible. you arched your back slightly, pushing into his touch as your body responded to his skilled fingers.
heeseung’s touch grew more insistent, his fingers rubbing your clit in a way that made the pleasure build slowly but intensely. the moment stretched on, the sensation of his fingers combined with the heat between you creating a prolonged, intoxicating experience.
don’t stop, please. you could feel the pressure mounting, your body trembling as you approached the edge. the slow, deliberate pace of his touch made every moment feel like it was stretched out, heightening the anticipation and desire.
come on, heeseung murmured, his voice a low, encouraging whisper. cum for me.
the combination of his touch and his words was too much to resist. you felt your body shudder as the climax hit you, waves of pleasure crashing over you with an intensity that left you gasping. heeseung continued to rub you through your release, his touch steady and guiding.
after the waves of your climax had subsided, you rested your head against heeseung’s neck, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breath as you tried to steady yourself. the aftershocks of pleasure still made your body tremble slightly, and the intimate contact between you both was both comforting and exhilarating.
heeseung’s hands were still on your hips, but his touch had softened to a tender caress. he could feel the dampness of your panties against his lap, and a satisfied smile curved his lips. he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, you did so well.
you managed a weak, contented smile, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin. thank you, you murmured, your voice still breathless. that feels so good...
heeseung’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. i’m glad you think so, he said softly. but i want to continue this somewhere a bit more private. his voice was filled with a mix of tenderness and desire, and you could sense the anticipation in his tone.
before you could respond, heeseung effortlessly lifted you into his arms in a bridal carry. his grip was strong and secure, and you felt a sense of safety and closeness as he held you against him. you nestled into his embrace, your head resting on his shoulder.
let’s do this upstairs, he said, his voice low and filled with promise. i want to make sure you’re completely taken care of. his words were both reassuring and electrifying, making your heart race with excitement.
heeseung carried you up the stairs with a gentle but purposeful stride, his arms keeping you close as he navigated the familiar path to his bedroom. the anticipation of what was to come next was palpable, the connection between you both growing stronger with every step.
as you reached the top of the stairs, heeseung’s lips found yours in a soft, lingering kiss, a final reassurance of his affection before the more intense exploration of your desire continued. the promise of the night ahead hung in the air, and you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.
as you entered his bedroom, heeseung gently set you down on the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on yours with a deep, dark hunger. his hands cupped your face as he leaned in for a kiss, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that contrasted with the intense desire in his gaze. the kiss was soft at first, a gentle exploration that quickly deepened into something more passionate.
you responded eagerly, your hands finding their way to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. the heat between you both intensified, each kiss growing more urgent as you lost yourselves in each other. heeseung’s hands roamed down to your shoulders, his touch sending shivers through your body.
with a soft, teasing smile, you began to slowly remove your clothes. you started with your blouse, your fingers deftly unbuttoning it while keeping your gaze locked with heeseung’s. each button undone revealed more of your skin, and heeseung’s eyes darkened with every inch that was exposed.
as you shrugged off the blouse, heeseung’s hands moved to your waist, his touch exploring your bare skin with a mix of reverence and eagerness. his kisses followed the path of your exposed neck, trailing down to your collarbone. each kiss was deliberate and tender, the sensation of his lips against your skin creating a delicious contrast to the heat of his breath.
you shifted slightly, giving him better access as you continued to undress. your fingers worked on the clasp of your bra, and with a practiced motion, you let it fall away. heeseung’s breath caught at the sight, his eyes tracing every curve of your body with a look of pure adoration.
heeseung’s lips found yours again, his kiss fierce and hungry as he guided you to lie back on the bed. his hands traveled down your body, his touch igniting every nerve. he took his time, savoring the feel of your skin against his, his kisses following a path from your lips to your chest, lingering on each sensitive spot.
as your panties were the next to go, you slowly slid them down your legs, heeseung’s hands helping you remove them with a careful touch. once they were discarded, he didn’t immediately dive into the next step. instead, he took a moment to appreciate the sight of you fully exposed, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and awe.
good god, you’re beautiful baby, heeseung whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion. his hands cupped your thighs, spreading them slightly as he moved between your legs. his kisses returned, this time focusing on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, his lips brushing softly against the area just above your cunt.
the sensation of his lips, combined with the anticipation of what was to come, had you shivering with need. heeseung’s hands explored your body, his touch both gentle and possessive as he slowly made his way up, pausing to savor every moment. each kiss and caress built the tension, heightening the connection between you both.
finally, heeseung’s fingers traced the dampness that had already accumulated, feeling the evidence of your arousal. his touch was reverent as he began to rub your clit with a slow, deliberate motion. his kisses continued, now moving up to your neck and collarbone, his breath hot against your skin.
the pressure and pleasure from his touch were overwhelming. heeseung’s movements were steady and focused, his fingers expertly stimulating you while his kisses and murmurs of encouragement only heightened the experience. the moment stretched out, each touch and kiss adding to the intensity of the pleasure building within you.
let me know if you need anything, heeseung murmured, his voice a soothing balm amidst the rising waves of desire. i’m here for you.
you moaned softly in response, your body arching toward his touch as the pleasure continued to build. the combination of his fingers rubbing you, his lips on your skin, and his whispered words created a symphony of sensations that made every moment feel both intense and intimate.
the scene continued to unfold, with heeseung’s touch becoming more urgent as you both approached the peak of desire. his kisses grew more fervent, his touch more insistent, until you could no longer distinguish between the pleasure and the intensity of your connection. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of desire and affection.
as heeseung’s fingers continued to work their magic on your clit, the pleasure began to build to an overwhelming crescendo. his kisses were fervent, and you could feel the heat of his arousal pressing against you. you reached down with a teasing smile, your fingers wrapping around his hard length.
heeseung let out a sharp intake of breath as your touch made contact. fuck, just like that, he groaned, his voice trembling with need.
you stroked him slowly, your hand moving up and down his shaft with a deliberate rhythm. you’re so hard hee, you whispered, your voice sultry. i can feel how much you want this.
heeseung’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, lost in the sensation of your touch. you’re driving me insane, he admitted, his voice strained. i need to be inside you, but i wanna make you feel good first princess.
you continued to stroke him, your touch firm but gentle, teasing him as you felt the warmth of his skin. the rhythm of your hand was slow and steady, building the tension between you both. i want you inside me too, you murmured, your voice filled with a mix of desire and satisfaction.
heeseung’s breathing became more ragged, his hands gripping your hips as he tried to hold back his own urge. i don’t think i can wait any longer, he said, his voice a low rumble of need.
with a final, deliberate stroke, you released him, your hand sliding away as heeseung repositioned himself. he guided his tip to your entrance, the anticipation making both of you tremble. he took a moment to savor the closeness, his fingers brushing against your skin as he leaned in for a heated kiss.
ready? he asked, his voice a low growl.
you nodded, your body aching with anticipation, i’m ready, you whispered, your voice trembling with excitement.
heeseung pushed into you slowly, the sensation of him filling you inch by inch causing you to gasp. each thrust was deep and deliberate, his eyes locked with yours as he filled you completely. the connection between you both was intense, the fullness of him inside you creating waves of pleasure that made your body shiver.
heeseung’s hands tightened on your hips as he began to move, his thrusts steady and purposeful. his breaths were heavy and erratic, the pleasure overwhelming both of you as you adjusted to the new depth of connection.
heeseung’s grip on your thigh tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh with a possessive intensity that left you breathless. the roughness of his touch sent a thrill through you, making you crave more, and he used that grip to angle your hips just right, allowing him to sink even deeper inside you. the sensation was overwhelming, a heady mix of pleasure and fullness that made you feel like you were on the edge of something dangerous and exhilarating.
fuck, i can feel how tight you are, heeseung growled, his voice rough and filled with need. he pulled back slightly, only to drive back into you with deliberate force, each thrust making your entire body jolt with the impact. the pace was slow at first, almost torturous in its precision, as if he was determined to make you feel every inch of him.
your hands, needing something to hold on to, instinctively reached up to grip his hair, pulling him closer as you tried to steady yourself against the onslaught of sensations. the softness of his hair between your fingers was a stark contrast to the roughness of his movements, grounding you as he pushed you closer to the edge.
heeseung leaned down, his lips just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. do you feel that? he whispered, his voice thick with lust, each word sending a shiver down your spine. he took your hand and guided it to your belly, pressing it firmly against the bulge he was creating with each deep thrust. that’s me, baby. i’m all the way inside you, he said, his tone possessive and dark, his eyes watching your every reaction with a mix of pride and desire.
your fingers trembled as you felt the hard outline of him through your skin, you took a look at your belly seeing him move inside you, and the reality of how deep he was inside you making your mind spin. your grip on his hair tightened, pulling him even closer, as if the physical connection could somehow anchor you in the overwhelming sea of sensations.
heeseung, b-big! you gasped, your voice a desperate plea, almost disbelieving of the intensity of the sensation. it was like nothing you’d ever felt before—the sheer fullness, the way he was stretching you to your limits. your words were cut off as heeseung thrust into you harder, his movements no longer slow and controlled but rough and unrelenting. each thrust forced the air from your lungs, the intensity building as he picked up the pace, his control fraying with every moment that passed.
yeah, that’s right, he murmured, his voice low and dark, lips brushing against your ear. i’m right here, baby. i want you to feel me everywhere. he was relentless now, each thrust making that bulge in your belly more pronounced, more impossible to ignore. your breath caught in your throat, your fingers twisting in his hair as you tried to anchor yourself in the storm of sensations.
heeseung suddenly lowered his head, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. he sucked hard, leaving a mark as his teeth scraped lightly against your skin, moaning against your skin, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. he moved down to your collarbone, his lips and tongue working in tandem to drive you wild, before moving lower, sucking on the soft flesh of your breasts, leaving a trail of bruised kisses in his wake.
it’s so deep, you whispered, your voice shaky, filled with a mix of awe and desperation. the way he was filling you, the way he was forcing your body to accommodate every inch of him—it was almost too much, and yet you craved more, wanting him to push you even further. your back arched off the bed, your body straining toward him, needing more of his touch, more of his lips on your skin.
heeseung’s eyes darkened with even more desire at your words, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. you love it, don’t you? feeling me this deep, knowing that i’m filling you up completely. his tone was rough, his words tinged with pride and possessiveness, like he was reveling in the way your body was responding to him.
your only response was a whimper, the sound escaping your lips as your body tightened around him involuntarily. the way he was speaking to you, the roughness in his voice combined with the sheer physical sensation, sent you spiraling closer to the edge. heeseung felt you clench around him and groaned, his hips stuttering for just a moment before he regained his rhythm, thrusting into you harder, deeper.
fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight, he groaned, his voice strained as he struggled to maintain control. his free hand slid up your body, his fingers wrapping around your throat lightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, to remind you of the power he had over you in this moment. your grip on his hair loosened slightly, your focus shifting to the feeling of his hand on your throat, the way it made your pulse quicken, your breath hitch in your throat.
look at me, he commanded, his voice dark and dripping with lust. i want to see your face when i make you fucking cum on my cock. the authority in his tone left no room for hesitation, and you forced your eyes open, meeting his intense gaze. the look in his eyes sent a jolt of desire through you, making your body tighten even more around him. your hands slid down from his hair to his shoulders, your fingers digging into his skin as you tried to hold on to something solid, something real.
heeseung’s grip on your throat tightened slightly, his thumb brushing against your jaw as he thrusts into you with a brutal rhythm. each movement was rough, almost punishing in its intensity, but the way he was watching you—like he was drinking in every reaction, every moan, every gasp—made it clear that he was savoring this moment just as much as you were.
fuck, so so tight, he groaned again, his voice rough and filled with a desperate need. you feel so fucking good, baby. i can’t get enough of you.
heeseung, please, you whimper, your voice a desperate plea as the pressure inside you builds to an almost unbearable level. the way he was thrusting into you, the way his hand was still pressing yours against that bulge in your belly—it was all too much, your body trembling as you teetered on the edge of release. your hands instinctively tightened on his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to hold on, needing something to anchor you amidst the storm of sensations.
please what? he growled, his grip on your throat tightening just slightly, his eyes narrowing as he watched you struggle to find the words. you want to come? is that it?
you nodded frantically, your eyes pleading with him as your body trembled beneath his relentless pace. yes, please, i need to— you tried to say, but your words were cut off by a sharp intake of breath as he slammed into you harder, his thrusts rough and unrelenting, each one making that bulge in your belly more pronounced. your hands slipped from his shoulders and grabbed at his arms, your fingers digging into his skin as you held on for dear life, needing something to ground yourself in the overwhelming pleasure.
you can’t even talk, can you? hmm? heeseung chuckled darkly, but there was a breath less quality to his voice, a sign that he was just as affected as you were by the intensity of the moment. you’re so fucking full of me that you can’t think straight.
you could only moan in response, your mind too foggy with pleasure to form coherent thoughts. the sensation of his hand guiding yours over your swollen abdomen, combined with the roughness of his thrusts, drove you closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with the need for release. your grip on his arms tightened, your fingers digging into his skin as you held on for dear life, feeling like you were on the brink of something explosive.
heeseung’s free hand moved to grip your thigh again, pulling you even closer, his pace relentless. i want you to feel me everywhere, he growled, his voice low and filled with a dark desire. i want you to remember this, how fucking deep i am inside you, how you’re mine.
heeseung, you gasped, your voice a desperate plea as your body tightened around him, the pressure building to an unbearable level. the intensity of his movements, the roughness in his voice, the way he was making you feel so completely filled—it all sent you spiraling toward the edge. your hands slipped from his arms to his back, your fingers digging into his skin as you held on to him, needing to feel him, to know that he was real, that this moment was real.
cum for me, baby, heeseung muttered against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. i want to feel you creaming all over my cock. his words were the final push you needed, your body arching beneath him as you cried out, the pleasure crashing over you in waves, each one stronger than the last. your hands tightened on his back, your fingers clutching at his skin as you held on for dear life, feeling the intensity of your release, the way it made you shudder and gasp for breath.
heeseung groaned loudly as he felt you tighten around him, his own release following closely behind yours. f-fucking hell…! this feels so— he thrust into you one final time, burying himself as deep as possible as he spilled inside you. the sensation of him filling you completely, combined with the sight of the bulge in your belly, made your orgasm last even longer, your body shaking with the force of it.
as you both came down from your highs, heeseung’s movements slowed, his touch becoming gentler. his hand remained on your belly, tracing the outline of the bulge with his fingers as he pressed soft kisses to your forehead. the contrast between his roughness moments before and the tenderness now only made the intimacy between you more intense.
you did so good, baby, he whispered, his voice filled with affection as he stroked your skin. you’re amazing. his words were soft, but there was a warmth in them that made your heart swell, the emotional connection between you two just as strong as the physical one.
you were too exhausted to respond, your body limp beneath him as you tried to catch your breath. heeseung noticed and smiled softly, his hand moving to cup your face as he leaned in for a tender kiss. the kiss was slow and sweet, a stark contrast to the intensity of what you’d just shared, but it felt perfect, a soothing balm after the storm.
rest now, he murmured, his voice gentle as he pulled you close, his body still connected to yours. i’m not going anywhere. his words were a promise, a reassurance that he was here, that he was yours, and that he wasn’t letting go anytime soon.
the two of you lay there, tangled together, your bodies still connected as you caught your breath. the room was filled with the soft sound of your breathing, a comforting reminder of the intense connection you shared, both physically and emotionally.
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