Enhypenjsrh

[intromortal]

⭑ AS YOU ARE ⸻ lee heeseung

no matter what you tell yourself in moments of insecurity, your boyfriend is there to remind you that he loves you just as you are.

this work contains ⋆ smut ⋆ minors do not interact ⋆ hurt/comfort, so much overthinking, discussions of depression and low self esteem, body image issues, nothing too specific but weight is hinted once, family issues, jealousy, mentions of misogyny, yuna is hee's bestie but we love her trust, reader is insecure and hee is here to help, this is really just me projecting, unprotected sex, creampie, ceiling mirror, praise, like so much praise, body worship, oral f!rec, fingering, full nelson, choking, marking ⸻ rules m.list

length ⋆ one shot ⸻ 15.3k words

✷ NIA — if you know me you know i went through the circles of hell while writing this. is this good? some parts, maybe. probably not, generally speaking. but it's okay because it's mine! and that's what the fic is about. this is for my own personal polar star, @venomhee <3

The thing about finding refuge in a person's presence is that you never know how long you'll be able to keep doing it.

Stuff like the stars, that's eternal. No matter what the next day might bring, night always comes. Emotions are fleeting, people even more so. They change and lie and deceive.

That could be never be Heeseung.

"I'll be your polar star, when you need me to be," he'd said with his back resting on the stringy grass of his backyard, when for the first time you tried to explain why you find so much comfort in the stars.

Whenever you lose hold of your own self, he's there to guide you gently to shore again. Loving Heeseung feels very much like the summer sun kissing your skin from the comfort of land, toes wiggling into the warm, never too hot, sand.

He pays very close attention to you, no matter what it is. It's been clear from the very start, like when he remembers the brands of chocolate he should avoid buying because you find them too artificially sweet. Or how he walks into the bathroom while you shower to bring you towels long before you realize you need them, because you somehow always forget your own. He knows all your orders by heart, and when you feel like switching it up he can easily tell you which items on the menu you would like and which ones you wouldn't. And if by chance you're really stubborn and still order something he knows you will hate, he gets your usual order for himself as a backup. (He's always right, and you end up eating your usual more than you'd like to admit.)

You joke he keeps a notepad with info about you readily available for him to consult, but he insists he doesn't need instructions to love you because he knows you. He knows you and your mind and understands how you think. You don't need to check your navigator for directions when you're driving down a road you know by heart.

So no, Heeseung would never deceive you, do you wrong. But your brain will. It spills venom wherever there's space for it to fit. In the little time before you get a text back, in the fleeting sentences he doesn't even think twice about but you spend the day deconstructing in your mind, trying to find a clue. There must be a catch, not because Heeseung is insincere or worse, but because you're so not worth it. Your thoughts are poison and it slowly clouds your vision until you barely recognize your surroundings anymore, they dull your senses until they're the only thing you're able to perceive.

He's the best thing that's ever happened to you, and as the saying goes those are the ones that never last. So how long do you have left? You watch your steps as if to prolong his stay in your life, watch your words so carefully around his friends—lest you upset them and they tell him to pick a side—put on your best facade and try to be the best girlfriend possible for him. Try to be a little more like his best friend.

You know it's petty, and she's nothing but respectful of your relationship and kind to you, but that makes it so much worse. If only she could be mean, snarky, jealous, and all those things evil girl best friends are supposed to be in stories like yours and Heeseung's, resenting her would be so much easier. It would feel okay.

Instead she welcomes you right in whenever she sees you, hugging you so tightly someone walking down the road would think you two are best friends reuniting after months, asking you all the right questions to keep the conversation going no matter how uncharming and awkward your answers are, no matter how hard it is for you to find the right words or how long you take. You're not very good with words, so you're also not very good with people, since all people are is an intricate braid made out of their favorite words and conversations.

You imagine the words she's made up of must all be positive and quirky in the way a fairy is, graceful and light, floating across the room and from person to person, each one in her wake with a lingering smile dancing on their lip by the time she's sprinkling her fairy dust on someone else. You don't dwell on what the words you're made out of are, you're not really interested in finding out, but you know Heeseung's name is probably out there in bold letters and underlined in gel glitter pen, sticking out like a sore thumb next to all the other more boring ones.

She's all these things you're not, and she's all the things Heeseung deserves but you can't be, no matter how hard you try.

Of course, it's Heeseung, so he sees right through it every time.

"Almost ready?" A knock on the wooden door frame wakes you up from the daydreaming you hadn't even realizing you were doing, and suddenly you're back in your room.

You turn towards the voice, finding your boyfriend leaning against the door frame. He looks beautiful, his hair messy and wavy and the white shirt he's wearing perfectly complementing his skin tone. You think it's a little unfair for some people to just look like this effortlessly, but it adds to Heeseung's charm. You wish it would be as easy for you to look presentable, no matter the steps you take day to day, you're never fully satisfied with what you see reflected in the mirror by the time you have to leave. It's especially worse when you're in a sour mood to begin with. Even looks that would've been okay any other day suddenly you find horrendous.

"Hee? No baby?" He pouts, stepping into your very messy room. There are clothes flung everywhere, one might think a tornado ran through your closet, but an annoyed you incapable of figuring out what to wear is a far more destructive force, one Heeseung is very familiar with. He quickly glances your way, and you're still in your pajamas, fighting with a makeup brush and with deep expression lines highlighting exactly how you feel. There's a small pout on your lips and Heeseung thinks it might be the cutest thing he has ever seen. "It's okay if we run a little late, baby. Take your time and don't rush too much."

You know he means well, and he's honest in his comforting words. You know he would rather you take an additional half hour instead of seeing you stressed over something as silly as the outfit you're gonna wear at a simple friend gathering. You also know Heeseung would love every single outfit you end up putting together. These are things you should know, and you try to remind that to yourself.

Heeseung loves you.

Heeseung is not annoyed.

Heeseung thinks you're beautiful, even when you don't.

But when you look into the mirror you're facing, with your legs crossed on the cold tile floor, and you find what feels like a stranger staring back at you, you don't know whether you believe those words anymore.

Tears well up in your eyes as you put down the makeup brush, tiny indents littering your palm from how tight you were holding it. You want to fight back the tears, at least in front of Heeseung, but it's hard when you're so frustrated.

Frustrated because you always make a big deal out of nothing, because all it takes to break the composure you so badly try to maintain is a simple sentence no one else would mistake for a jab. Frustrated because now you're gonna ruin Heeseung's night, one he has been looking forward to all week, because you're just so insecure it's almost pathetic. Frustrated because of course he's gonna spend his time consoling you instead of having fun. You know he will because he loves you. Because it's Heeseung.

He loves you and you know it but it feels like reciting words off a script, facts you memorized from a history book. You say the words in your mind but your heart stings because you don't let yourself believe them even when he tries his best to make you feel them.

You're unlovable, still he adores you. And here you are, so undeserving of it.

"Baby?"

A pang of guilt shoots you like an arrow through your heart at the soft concerned tone he calls to you with. He's the most soft spoken man you've ever met, that goes when he's interacting with anyone. Yet there's an almost cautious edge to his voice when he speaks to you in moments like this, an underlying vulnerability that's easy to miss if not paying close attention to it. It says: "talk to me with your heart on your sleeve, but if needed, I'll rip mine out of my chest and hand it to you to hold, if that makes you feel less uneasy at all."

You try to recollect yourself as best as you can before replying, taking deep breaths to slow down your heartbeat, but the pit in your stomach grows bolder with each one. You should tell him you're not feeling your best, maybe you ate something off, maybe you should've worn a scarf that one time he suggested you bundle up and you didn't. You should tell him to go enjoy his night with his friends, you'll stay home and maybe get started on that book you've been meaning to read.

Those are all things you would like to say, but your inner voice doesn't reach your lips, blocked by all the thorns growing from your heart into your throat.

"Do you want to throw on one of my hoodies? I know you like wearing those," Heeseung says from behind you, your heart leaping when his warm breath hits your neck before you even hear his words. He moves your hair away, softly kneading your shoulders with his thumbs, his mouth moving to press a kiss to the top of your head.

It takes all the courage hidden in your body to speak up, "Maybe you should… just go Hee. I'm not feeling it today." You immediately regret it, because he's sitting on the right beside you the second you finish your sentence. And if his touch was soft and caring before, now it's downright concerned as he pulls you into his lap.

"Why's that, pretty? Is something wrong?"

Avoiding his eyes is hard, even more so when he grabs your face so carefully, thumbs wiping away tears you hadn't even noticed slipping away. You want to speak, want to lay it all out. You want to make a cocoon out of Heeseung's warmth and scent, to lay in his hold and never think about any negative thing ever again. It doesn't matter where you are as long as he's cradling you to his chest.

Heeseung senses your hesitation, a new wound in his heart each time he catches one of your sniffles. "You can tell me anything, baby. We don't have to go, we can stay—" he stops as you shake your head vehemently. Absolutely no way you're gonna ruin his night, you refuse to.

"You go, Heeseung. No reason to stay here." Your voice cracks while speaking, and you internally cringe at how nasal you sound.

"No reason? I can't just leave you here like this."

"Your friends are waiting for you."

"Our friends are waiting for both of us."

"They are your friends, Heeseung. I'm their acquaintance because we're dating, I'm sure it makes no difference to them. Whether I'm there or not." You shrug, trying to ignore the knot forming back up in your throat, like your vocal chords are fumbling and getting all tied up with every word you speak. "And, you've been looking forward to this all week. Don't let me ruin it."

"Ruin it?" He shakes his head slightly, brows furrowing as he moves to make eye contact with you again. "What are you talking about?"

He searches your eyes for a hint of something, anything, to tell him you don't believe what you're saying. His shoulders slump when all he finds in those beautiful eyes he's come to think of as a safe haven is hurt. "Our friends love you, baby. I can barely get a word in before they ask me about you. They're always so excited to see you."

"I don't like feeling like I'm intruding constantly."

"You're never—"

"You guys have your own inside jokes, and things you've been meaning to see, stuff you've been meaning to do together. You're childhood friends. And I know we are too, but I'm not their friend. I'm just… there."

"Jungwon's joined recently too, Jay brought him in. I only got to know him last month and look. It's like he's always been there."

Tears well up in your eyes, and Heeseung's expression shifts to one of quiet panic, but the words tumble out of your mouth before he can take it back. "That's the thing. Jungwon is bright, charming, funny, so easy going. He fits in everywhere. But I always feel like I'm both too much and never enough at the same time. I don't want anyone to feel like they have to be my friend because-because I'm dating you."

"Of course my friends care for you. Anyone would be stupid not to. You belong right next to me. I love you. If you feel like you have nowhere, that's not true. You have me."

"It's just… I'm always so in my head. Why did I say that? I sounded so dumb. Why didn't I say that? It was a funny joke. Can I even say anything right now? It's not my place to. I spend all day and all night worrying about how I'm coming off to other people and by the end of it I wonder if anyone noticed I was even there in the first place. It's not just strangers or your friends. I feel like I'm this ghost, but then I get comfortable and I'm still all over the place. Like I have counted words until someone closer—or you, even you—gets tired of me. Like with every wrong step I take I'm suffocating any good opinion someone might have of me. I'm this object that's supposed to be disposable but you try to use more times anyway and then think 'Wow. Yeah. That's why.'"

You're still cradled against Heeseung's chest, perhaps the only place that's ever made you feel anything akin to a sense of belonging, but right now you wonder if you're even worthy of it. The urgency you felt while speaking, while finally letting out a taste of what's been plaguing your mind, vanishes as quietness envelops you both for a few moments.

Why did you suddenly blow up like that? You shouldn't have, not when your boyfriend was just trying to comfort you. You always do this. Think and think and think too much, just to go ahead say the wrong thing at the wrong time. All you do is overthink, except when it really matters. If you just learned to—

"I wish you could see yourself with my own eyes just for once." His breath tickles your forehead, his lips ghosting on it and every word a kiss. "When you think no one notices you, in the kitchen with your headphones on and too lost in your head to notice the music's been off for a while and you've already grazed your fingertips with the knife one too many times." He brings your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to your fingers as if to kiss them better, even if they sport no wound. The knife twists in your heart instead.

"You do this thing sometimes," Heeseung continues. "When you're around new people, or people you barely see. Your voice gets so small, you speak quieter and slower, like it could offend someone, like you hope you're not heard at all. But then when you let loose, it gets louder, you get bolder. You brighten up. It's my favorite sight, and it's my favorite sound. And when you've laughed so much it turns squeaky, that's my favorite feeling in the world. You think no one notices, I do. If you spend the entire time worrying, I spend it watching you, watching the people around you slowly uncover you. When you think no one's noticed you, know I did. I see you."

"I know," you sniffle. And you do, you know Heeseung has never once given you reason to doubt it. It's just that sometimes it's easy to forget.

Like always, he reads your mind. "And I know you know. Okay? I love you."

"I love you too."

"And so do your friends."

"Your frien—"

"Yours. No arguing. If Jay heard you right now he'd be so offended."

He kisses your forehead again when doubt morphs your features, before you can even get a word in. "How's Y/n? Is she eating well?" he says against your hair, his hand scratching lightly along your nape, the motion sending chills down your spine. "I trust you're treating her well, or I'll have to beat your ass—yes that one's Sunghoon," he laughs, the sound reverberating against your head. You feel every vibration, but it's not the same as when he's carefree and cuddled up in bed next to you, or when his head is on your chest while you two are watching the stars. That one is light and airy, it's ticklish almost, it's a laugh that makes you smile too. This one is thick with sadness, and you can't believe you've managed to make Heeseung's laugh into something somber. You seem to strip even the most cheerful people out of their color, it's precisely why you should stay home tonight.

Heeseung still feels the doubt radiate off of you even while he recounts some of the instances in which your friends have shown care for you, even when you weren't there to see it. He knows it's easy for you to slip into insecurities, even when they couldn't be farther from the truth. But like he'd said all that time back, he's there to guide you back to shore no matter what, until your toes can wiggle in the sand, and your lungs can fill with air properly.

"They all care for you, and they enjoy your company. I can promise you that. Didn't Jake text you about wanting to show you the shots he took the other night?"

You nod. He'd indeed done just that, but then refused to elaborate, adding that he was in his 'mysterious era' or whatever.

"Well, he found a new spot to use his Better More Dashing Dakota, and has been dying to gush to you about the results, but he insisted he wanted to see your live reactions, a text back wouldn't do it for him." Heeseung rolls his eyes as he mentions Jake's telescope and the stupid name he'd given to it. Jay got his dream car before Jake saved up enough for his dream telescope, and named it Dakota, which pissed Jake off, because that was the name he wanted to use too. Of course, not all inanimate objects need a name, but Jake is very particular about stuff like this. He even went out of his way to get a red telescope—same color of Jay's car—instead of the blue one he wanted as a way to get back at him. Not that Jay cared in the slightest, he now calls them twins actually, which only irritates Jake more.

You make a sound that is supposed to be a laugh but is much closer to a sniffle, and your heart clenches while thinking about Heeseung's friends—your friends, people you've come to love and cherish—and their ridiculous antics. You do miss them, but that little insecure monster is gnawing at your heart still.

"Aaand," he continues, "I've been waiting for tonight because I wanted to spend time with you. Sure, I miss my friends, but we've both been so busy with our schedules I honestly don't mind canceling so we can stay in. Just thought you wanted to go."

"I guess. But Yuna's there." You don't mean to sound bitter, but the venom spills out of your mouth before you have time to stop it. So there it is, the cat's out of the bag.

Heeseung takes a few seconds to process, and when he pulls back to look at you again, you can see pure, raw confusion fleeting behind his eyes. Something you've never seen. It makes your stomach fold in on itself.

"Yeah, just like the other guys will—oh. Oh no. Baby?" The realization is sudden, of course it doesn't take long to put two and two together. He starts to anxiously try to pinpoint a moment, something, that could've made you feel the way that you do. "Since when? Is it something I said? Or did? I would never want you to misunderstand our friendship in a billion years. I—"

You try to interrupt his rambling, so you can explain that no, he's not an asshole—

"Was it her? Babe, did she do something to make you second guess anything?"

—Nor is it Yuna. And now you're making him be suspicious of his best friend, the same girl who convinced him he was supposed to give money to the tooth fairy when he lost a tooth, and then told him she could give the five dollar bill to her herself when they were eight. So no, the asshole might just be you.

You hate how remembering that little fact about their friendship makes you burst into tears.

It's so not fair to Heeseung. Not when he gives you all the love in the world, does the absolute best he can to make you happy and secure in your relationship with him. He can't help it that's he's perfect and his best friend is the exact girl one would think he'd end up with. Girly, and always cheerful, and so confident but never arrogant, and loved by everyone, and drop dead gorgeous, and you could go on and on but it would only make you feel worse.

"Angel? Here, here." Heeseung is patient in a way that you don't think you deserve, big warm hand soothing as he massages your back and holds you even tighter, scared you might get up any moment. "I love you so, so much. Please never forget that."

"It's just—" your voice betrays you, whiny but you don't care anymore. You only care about explaining yourself so that he stops questioning himself, or Yuna, or anyone else, when it's all your fault for this big mess.

"It's okay, it's okay baby. I got you. Take your time, mhh?" He breathes deeply, calming his racing heart down because the last thing you need when you're crying in his arms is to see him so affected because of it. To Heeseung, it's always about how you feel. If you're ready to talk about certain things that he can see bother you from time to time but he won't push to know. It's all about giving you time to articulate yourself, because he knows firsthand sometimes finding the words can be just as hard as feeling them, and he thinks you're the most courageous person ever for even trying to.

He loves you so much, and while he knows he's your personal Polar Star—or tries to be—you might very well be his personal Sun, and he can't stand it when it gets cloudy.

He rocks you back and forth, until the mascara on his shirt is dry and your nails aren't digging into his shoulders quite as hard, until you giggle lightly into his shirt in that self deprecating way you do when you think you overreacted. "God. That was so stupid. I'm dumb, sorry. I know you're just friends."

"Hey. Don't say that. You're not dumb, and your feelings are not stupid."

"Really, I don't even know where that came from."

Heeseung turns your head and watches your eyes intently, scanning them for any sign of lingering doubt. His thumb swipes on your tear stricken face, then adjusts your hair ever so gently. "It came from somewhere."

"I'm not gonna sit here and have you overthink your friendships, Hee."

"Then help me understand."

His voice is firm, decisive. The look on his face anything but. You can't recall a single time you've seen him this clueless. Usually he allows you to work through whatever you're feeling, and by the time you open up he's already pieced it together with the trail of tiny and vague hints you leave behind without even noticing. Sometimes it feels like he can read your mind. In a sick, selfish way, you wish he could. You wouldn't have to sit here and openly talk about how you compare yourself to his friend who has no fault other than existing near such an insecure being as yourself.

"It's nothing you or her do. She's great. She treats me like we've been friends forever, even though I struggle to feel part of the group, she tries her best to make me feel included. I can see it."

Heeseung's shoulders visibly relax at that.

"I think you deserve better, and I know you love me. Or you wouldn't be here. I know that. I just can't wrap my head around why."

"Do I need a reason to?"

You recoil just the slightest, but it doesn't go unnoticed. He knows it's not the answer you expect, but it's the one you need to hear.

"I can sit here and list all the things I love about you, all the reasons my heart chose you, and always will. I can do that all night." His gaze somehow softens even more as he makes sure you listen to every single word. You see it, the love. The way his entire being chooses you again and again, second after second, even as he speaks. It never stops, every heartbeat a confirmation. "You don't need to give me a reason to be worthy of my love. Whatever mean thought you throw at yourself, all nasty lies your brain tells you, I know I can't just make them disappear into thin air. I wish I could. I wish I could take it all away right now, but I know I can't. We can try together, but it won't happen overnight. I just need you know, no matter how lowly you think of yourself, I love you as you are, and nothing will ever change that. You're my half, and I love all the uneven ridges. You think I need this perfect piece—which doesn't even exist—to complete me but the truth is that it wouldn't fit anyway. You do, and that's all the reason I'll ever need. It's okay if you don't think you're perfect, the truth is you're perfect for me."

By the time Heeseung stops to catch his breath, you're misty eyed, looking into his wild, blown up pupils. "I just feel like it's so hard to love me sometimes."

"I'll forget how to breathe before I forget to love you. Something so instinctual I need it to survive cannot possibly be hard. I think you're the easiest to love a human being has ever been."

You fall into a comfortable silence, different from the ones that preceded it. Heeseung rocks you back and worth in his embrace while you settle all the remaining ugly feelings. They're still there, but the buzzing is subsiding while Heeseung's love for you takes up the space. It's not that it grew louder, it doesn't need to, you just needed to pay more attention to it.

"I'm sorry," you say. The hardest part about opening up has always been the embarrassment coating you in a sticky sheen after, like an oil stain you can't quite scrub off. Like there is any shame in proving yourself to be human.

"Mhh," Heeseung purrs, his arms tightening their hold on you. "No need to be."

"I really hate causing a fuss about my feelings, but it seems to happen every time anyway."

"That's because you let them fester."

"I guess so. I just don't want to hurt other people with them."

"See? You need to stop doing that. They're your feelings and you're the one experiencing them. No matter how much you think talking about them will hurt other people for whatever reason, you're still gonna feel them anyway. And the more you bottle them up the worse they get. So doing that is definitely not a solution."

Heeseung is right, of course. Everything is more difficult because you're fully aware of the fact that you have a little bit of an overthinking problem going on, so you feel twice as bad for assigning intentions to actions and things someone has said in passing when there was no need for that at all. You're always on edge, but you know that you are. How do you even begin to address something you know you're blowing out of proportion?

Heeseung smoothens the wrinkles formed between your brows with his thumb. "You need to stop doing this too."

"Huh?"

"You think too much. You forget you're allowed to feel things regardless of the reason. You can feel, you don't need to find explanations for everything." He presses a quick kiss to the top of your head. "You can ask for reassurance, it's okay and we all need it sometimes. You have a doubt, you have an ugly little inkling in the back of your head, you come to me with it so we can get rid of it before it gets even worse. If I can do anything to make it better for you, I want to."

"Okay," you whisper. And a little bit of weight instantly lifts off your shoulders because you mean it. It won't be easy, and you might need some time before it's the default and not the exception when you cannot physically hold it together any longer, but it's a start and that's what matters.

Heeseung holds his pinky out for you, and you giggle, swatting his hand away when he brings it even closer to your face.

"I said i will!"

"Nuh-uh. Not enough."

You roll your eyes towards the ceiling, but comply anyway.

"Then?" Heeseung says, encouraging you to make the promise while your pinkies are intertwined.

"Fine," you sigh. "I promise to always come to you when something is off. No matter how stupid i think it is and no matter how infuriatingly perfect you are in comparison."

"Good." Heeseung seems to hesitate for a spare second. "I will too."

"What could Mr. Perfect even worry about?" You watch him as he gets up, groaning when he finally moves his limbs out of the position they've been in for the best part of the last hour. "Old age?"

"So funny." He stretches his arms, lifting his white shirt with the motion just enough to give you a peek of the hair leading down to his quite low waisted belt. "Plenty things. I lack so much, baby. You don't think so because I'm perfect for you, just as you're perfect for me. You're not alone in feeling the way that you do, I'm gonna start being more open about it because it wouldn't be fair to you if I didn't." The thought of your boyfriend hurting like you do is almost unbearable, and suddenly you understand why he's so hell bent on having you open up to him. You too want to help him.

He bends down again to press a fleeting kiss to your lips. "I see you the way you see me."

And somehow that's the nicest thing you've ever been told.

Good resolutions are only as good as resolutions get: useless if not put into practice.

Like Heeseung said, stopping from thinking so lowly about yourself isn't something you can do overnight. You already knew that in the heat of the moment, and even though you made a promise, sticking to it revealed to be harder than anticipated.

Two weeks passed from the day you broke down in tears in the middle of your room, and while that's not nearly enough time for any substantial change to have occurred, things have been overwhelmingly mundane for how big making that promise felt.

Wake up. Worry about how you look. Live life. Wow you don't deserve Heeseung. Fuck you said some stupid shit didn't you. Rinse and repeat.

And while Heeseung started sharing some of his worries with you here and there, trying to hopefully also get you to do it (who would have thought you needed a how to be a human tutorial? Actually, scratch that. That's so on brand.) you still struggle. Some things are way too dumb to even entertain the possibility of voicing out loud, while others are so deep rooted and complicated you don't even know where to start.

So you do what you've always done, squeeze more than you can handle into your flimsy human body, barely held together like a dam with a duct-taped gaping hole.

"Growing up, I used to wish I had a big extended family like yours. Loud, fun, so filled with love." Heeseung sits on his bed with a soft thud, head thrown back to look at his reflection on the ceiling mirror, a sad smile on his lips. "I spent most of my childhood alone, watching those sappy Christmas movies even though it was August, waiting for my parents to come home. I wish I had that so fucking badly. Aunt was never really around though, but I guess mom and dad weren't really either, so it couldn't be helped. I wonder why they don't make sappy big family summer vacation movies."

"No one would buy it," you say, swiping the cotton pad soaked in makeup remover beneath your eyes. "For some reason families getting along is more believable if it's the Holidays. Must be the Christmas spirit or something. But let me tell you, it's all bullshit."

"I guess so," Heeseung lays back, putting his weight on his elbow, and this time his focus is solely on you. Your back is turned to him, sat down on the soft rug. The dress you wore to dinner with your family is discarded on his gaming chair, and as unfortunate as that is, you're now wrapped in a baggy hoodie of his, so every cloud has a silver lining. Dress or hoodie, you look perfectly his. "You're the big extended family expert, not me. The grass is greener or whatever."

"The grass is dead on both sides."

"I suppose it is."

The room falls into silence while you finish taking off the remains of your makeup, the scent oozing from the hoodie wrapped around your body slowly soothing your nerves. Heeseung is still looking at you.

"You're creepy," you say, getting up to throw away the used cotton. You miss the trash can by quite a lot, so you pick it up again and toss it right in. "You and these low lights."

"You're pretty. And don't blame my choice of lighting for your piss poor aim."

Your knee dips into the soft mattress of Heeseung's bed, and he scoots closer to the edge to make room for you. "It really is the low lights."

Heeseung's hoodie, Heeseung's bed, and just Heeseung next to you. He's everywhere around you, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You're exhausted from the rough week you had, and as if that wasn't enough, the family dinner you'd dreaded the entire month drained you of whatever will to live you had left. You love your family, of course you do. You love them in the way children love their parents unconditionally, but not like you love the people you choose to keep in your life everyday. Growing up you were taught to value blood ties over any other relationship in your life, and the older you get, the more you realize it's because blood is the only thing you and your family have in common, the only thing keeping you together.

"Penny for your thought?" Heeseung whispers into your ear, his warm breath fanning your cheekbone.

"Families are complicated."

"Mh. Very true."

You turn your head ever so slightly, just enough to brush his nose with yours. He takes it as an invitation, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest wordlessly. By the way your shoulders relax the second his warmth is on you, you know he knows it was the right thing to do. His heartbeat drums against your shoulder, steady and comforting, so you try to match your breathing to it. His lips twitch a few times, and you can tell he's holding something back. "What's the matter?"

"I was wondering, you can always not tell me if you don't want to, and maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing but—I was wondering if something happened in the kitchen, after you went to help with the dessert and the dishes. I know you weren't exactly excited for tonight, but everything seemed good until… until you came out of there." Heeseung looks into your eyes for a sign of something—what exactly you don't know—but he seems to find it right away, because his grip on you tightens, and with it so does the knot in your throat.

"Nothing out of the ordinary." You look away, his gaze too much too bear, and you clear your throat. The mirror above you reflects the dim, warm lights of Heeseung's bedroom, and with them, both of your figures. Even when you look away from him, you see the way he's completely focused on you, it's like you can't escape the sight of it no matter which direction you turn your eyes to. Heeseung knows, Heeseung sees, and his entire room makes sure you don't forget. "Aunt makes some comments… she always has. It hurts me, everyone tells me she doesn't know better."

"And what do you think? Does she know it hurts you?"

"I'm not sure."

You think about it sometimes. Your family makes off handed comments, says things you would never dare say to anyone, yet you're expected to always take it. It's not even about forgiving time and time again, because to them there's nothing to forgive. If you complain or express your hurt, you're too sensitive. They're older, from another generation, they don't know any better. But you're an adult too now, and you've grown as a person with every passing year, you've learned from your mistakes. How come they never do? If you give them a single droplet of their own medicine, they call it disrespect, they call it being mean to your elders. They know it's wrong, just not when it comes to you.

"I used to think they were jokes when I was a child, but now I look at other kids and I would never make fun of them that way. It's not even things I notice, who picks on children for the way they sit, they laugh, they talk, for the way they look? It doesn't even cross my mind. Then the comments keep going, you see me for the first time in months and the first thing you tell me is that the color of my dress looks bad on me. I don't understand."

"She told you that?" Heeseung's hand wraps around yours, touch light but steady, and brings it to his lips when you nod.

"That, and so much more. When I finally make some progress, when I start being kinder to myself, a simple visit to my family undoes it all in the matter of hours. I tell myself all of these thoughts I have… they're mine and no one else's. I tell myself I scrutinize too hard, that no one else sees me this way or even notices me long enough to pick up on this stuff. But then my family just—they just crack my head open and use all of it against me. Like they can read my mind—which they can't do—so really, maybe all of these thoughts are just the way things are."

A tear slips down your cheek, but Heeseung's lips are on it before you can flick it away yourself. He lingers on your skin, hand still secure around yours, while the other scratches at your head gently, waiting for you to get it all off your chest.

So you do, even when the tiny voice inside your brain yells at you to stop, tells you you sound whiny and annoying, bothering him with things that are not really that important in the grand scheme of things, even when you know he wants to know. He wants to help. Everything in your body is begging you to just shut up, but you don't. You've shut up for a long, long time, and what good did it bring you?

"I was ten years old, begging mom to leave me home because I'd put a bit of weight on and I knew that would be the first thing my aunt would comment on. It was always like this, not a 'hi', not an 'i missed you'. Just straight to 'we need to put you on a diet'. My cousins got the opposite, and we'd stay up all night talking about how anxious visiting aunt made us. Then I was sixteen, and was growing into a woman, so all I got was comparisons. I watched them—aunts and older cousins—rank us younger ones from prettiest to least. Even back then I remember thinking how fucked up that was. Really, who the fuck does that? The guys never got any of this. Growing up, it brought us closer. Now that we're older, I think it pulled us further apart. I hear them make the same jabs that would have them crying in my arms a few years back, to the younger ones, like it's some sort of rite of passage. I want to scream at them, I see the effects they have on the kids, but I'm no mother, and definitely not theirs. I fear they're gonna grow up to be like me."

"That would be the best thing that could possibly happen," Heeseung says, and he means it. You see it in his starry eyes, the way he looks at you like you hold the truth of the world within you. While being adored like this is not something one can get used to, it's a truth you're passively aware of, and that sometimes fades in the back and blends with everything else. Because it doesn't burn brightly and fast, it's composed, a soft murmur in the background, until it zaps you out of nowhere in moments like this. It's paralyzing, a scoff the only response you can manage. "Really. I mean it."

Sometimes you think it would be easier if you didn't believe it.

"Then I was twenty, and everyone but me got into relationships. The running opinion was that I'm just too hard to deal with, not worth the trouble. For some too quiet and shy, for others too emotional and with a real bad temper. Too bitchy. My biggest mistake and fault was being human when perfection was the minimum required out of the women in my family. It feels worse because that's where all the vitriol comes from, even if in different ways, they all went through this. How do you grow up like this and not know better? They spent evenings dissecting every part of me and building me back up in their minds into this being that had nothing to do with me. They made assumptions based on how I sat, how I greeted strangers, how I hosted, never once stopped to have a conversation with me. They decided I'm no good for a man and held it against me, as if that's where all our worth as women lays."

The lamp flickers once, then twice, but Heeseung's attention on you never falters. He listens to you like nothing but the words dripping out of your lips matters, his hold on you tight when it needs to be, and soft when your chest heaves a little too much.

"Then you came, and I thought I'd finally proven them wrong, but they think it was just luck, they thought we wouldn't last."

"But we did."

"We did. And they're almost bitter about it." You shift to lay your head on Heeseung's chest, and he presses another kiss to the top of your head. Your heart is lighter but somehow tighter in your chest, sharing your burdens with someone else does feel good, but it doesn't take away from the pain, or the childish wish that things were different.

"Then we keep proving them wrong," Heeseung says. "And make them even more bitter."

You let out a humorless laugh. "You have nothing to prove, they adore you. You could wake up and cheat tomorrow and they'd find a way to blame me for fumbling you."

"You don't have to prove them wrong either. You can if you want to, because we both know you're so much more than they give you credit for, but it's not something you have to do. Their opinion doesn't define you. Even if they randomly decide to rethink all of it, you'd still be the same person."

You hum, deep and rich from within. "You're right, I still chase for their approval in everything I do."

"We don't have to go to these dinners all the time if it's best for you to stay away from your family for a little. You can take a little distance." Heeseung looks down at you when you move upwards to rest your cheek on the juncture between his neck and shoulder. You pout, pondering on how helpful that would be but also knowing your presence is expected regardless of your feelings or well being.

"It's not exactly optional."

"Why?" He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, when to you it's the wildest possible option.

"Family comes before everything."

"Even when you're hurt like this?"

You nod before thinking, like it's seared into your DNA, a notion that shouldn't be challenged no matter what. It would hurt your parents, cause problems and drama for the relatives you actually like. It's not like it's all dark and bleak, if it was, things would be so much easier in a way, taking your space would feel justified.

"You don't have to just disappear, you know. It's your family, and it's your choice, but maybe sometimes you should establish harsher boundaries, and if they're not respected that's enough reason to skip a dinner or visit here and there. Hell, you don't even need a reason. If you don't feel like going, that's enough." Heeseung gives you a long look. "Please stop putting everyone else above what you truly want and need. No one's sitting here thanking you for the sacrifices you make. I'd say they're not even noticed. Think of yourself first, try it just one time."

It's harsh, but you it's what you need to hear. Some sick part of you wants to take some of your words back, find a way to defend their behavior. You smother the fire before you lose control of it.

"Okay." You take a deep breath, maybe the most important you have ever taken, and your shoulders feel lighter while the weight on your chest makes dent. Nonetheless, you do what's right for you. "I will."

"I know. Yes. I'm sorry, I really can't make it this time." You throw an exasperated look towards Heeseung, who is in the middle of eating all the seeded grapes you hate out of your fruit salad. "Something came up—"

"What could possibly be more important?" Your mom's voice on the other end of the call is accusatory in a way that would have anyone recoil at the sound of it, but to you, that's just regular schedule.

"Not more important, just—"

"What will everyone think? You're gonna embarrass us."

There it is. You'd spent the entire week worrying about upsetting your mom, when really all she cared about was making a good impression on everyone else. You feel for her, it must be exhausting to always put a performance on for the same people that are supposed to know you like the back of their hand, love you regardless of anything. She was raised like this, it's all she's ever known, but that doesn't mean you have to perform as well. You don't have to, and Heeseung's been helping you break away from the chains adults have put on you since you were a kid.

He reaches his hand towards you, whispering a quiet "I'll handle it."

You're thankful for his intervention, handing him the phone like it would burn to hold it any longer, but a part of you is sad that you couldn't hold your ground until the very end of the call. He leaves the room briefly, and you sit there picking at the fruit salad, your stomach closed from the stress telling your mom you refuse to go to the family dinner scheduled for the weekend brought you.

You abandon the plastic container on the nightstand, crawling into the bed and lowering the sleeves of your boyfriend's hoodie until they cover your palms completely. The headboard is uncomfortable behind your head, but all you care about is distracting yourself from the soft conversation happening in the other room. You breathe loudly through your mouth, sing random tunes inside your head, try to think of anything other than the disappointment you've caused today.

"My god," Heeseung walks into his room again, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "They need to add you to the calendar of saints."

"She's gonna hold a grudge. I'll be fifty and she'll still take any chance to mention today."

"Well, she better get used to this, because from now on, we'll skip all the gatherings you want." Heeseung sits on the end of his bed, his warm hand caressing the exposed skin of your ankle. The slightest touch of his soothes you, and as always the realization of just how much power he has on you makes your stomach flutter in both fear and delight.

"Thank you for talking to her for me. I was starting to think that maybe I should get over myself and just go."

"Anytime, baby. I hope I didn't take away your moment or anything."

You let out a laugh that is halfway to a scoff. As if. Your boyfriend has the incredible gift of knowing when to leave you alone in handling your shit, and when you need him to help you, without needing a single word from you. Had he not intervened today, you would've folded just to make your mom happy, even if it meant going through hours of what you would in all honestly call psychological horror.

Aunt's harsh words from last time still poison your mind from time to time, the last thing you need is a second course of them before you can even get over the first. To be frank, you would only see your family during the Holidays if it were up to you. And it is, that's Heeseung's whole point, one would assume everyone knows they possess free will, but apparently you need to manually learn to make use of it. Thinking about it, you're not even sure if you'd spend the Holidays with your family out of your own want, or only as a way to make Heeseung happy, since it's something he's always yearned for, and he has no real family now to go back home to. Other than you and his friends, that is.

"I wish I could let their judgment roll off my back. Then there would be no need to go to such lengths. I feel like a teenager skipping class." You play with the strings of Heeseung's hoodie, rolling them between your fingers absentmindedly. You could always just get up and start getting ready, but the weight in the pit of your stomach at the thought of it crushes you still. Too cowardly to face your own mother and set boundaries, too scared to straighten your shoulders and walk through that door with your head held up high. Fear freezes you in place, and you wish you could stop time for a little. "I feel disgusting enough as it is, I don't need a night long reminder of how not pretty I am."

You gave Heeseung an idea of what happened last time you two visited your family, when you wandered into the kitchen with nothing but good intentions, and accidentally set foot into a trap. But you didn't really go into heavy detail. Your aunt saw the group pictures you and everyone else took at Heeseung's birthday party. That day, you'd spent hours dolling yourself up for him, planned the look for so long admitting it out loud was humiliating. For the first time in very long, you felt beautiful. Not just pretty, or cute, but beautiful. All of that, only for your aunt to pull out the pictures right there in front of you and point Yuna out. If that alone didn't hurt you—it did, considering how inferior you already felt when it came to her—worry not! Because she went on to comment on how real gorgeous girls don't need to overdo it to draw all the attention on themselves, an obvious jab. She spared no words for you, other than telling you to pick a more flattering color next time, before Heeseung realizes he's out of your league, and then to really add salt to injury, mentioned how good they would look together.

Despite how beautiful you felt on his birthday, that interaction completely destroyed the confidence you had left.

When you're not spending the night at Heeseung's, you lay awake picking your appearance apart in those same pictures. Suddenly the dress is ill fitting, your makeup a little messy from all the dancing, your hair not as well styled as you thought it to be. You notice how your lipstick settles into the lines of your lips and how the polish on one of your nails is chipped, how your hair got puffier and how your nose crinkled in a way you don't like when you smile too wide. Yuna looks flawless, her smile bright as ever, picture perfect like she just rolled out of a salon even when caught off guard in a more candid shot. It makes sense for her to be perfect like that, you however? The more you spend time analyzing every little detail you never noticed before, the more it starts to look like a mask with cracks littered all over it, imperfections peeking through even the most desperate attempt to hide them.

You never talked about it with Heeseung, even after the day he made you promise to always let him into your mind when you needed someone to help you sort through your thoughts, too afraid to taint the memory of such an happy night. But it weighs you down, tremendously so. If by day you busy yourself too much to overthink your appearance, by night the demon on your shoulder yells too loud for you to ignore it.

"What?"

The worst part of it, is that Heeseung is genuinely confused. Like you questioning your looks is some kind of outlandish joke. You really wish it was.

"You? Disgusting? Are you out of your mind?" he says, and yeah, by his reaction, out of your mind sounds about right.

"It's just sometimes, we all have our moments, you know—I don't even have enough time to worry about it that much!" You downplay your feelings towards the flesh cage you call body, because fuck if that's not the most embarrassing thing to talk about with someone else ever. At least top three.

"Why have you never brought this up?"

"I don't know. It feels stupid. Superficial." And it is. You would never waste Heeseung's time like this.

"It's as untrue as all the other things." He inches closer to you, barely, but you notice it, hyper aware of the warmth radiating off of him.

"I told you growing up, I didn't really stand out. I guess this is why I feel the like this."

"But you're the most gorgeous woman I've ever my laid eyes on," Heeseung says, bending down to press his lips against your exposed calf, his thumb still massaging your ankle.

The sight of your boyfriend quite literally at your feet makes your chest erupt from within, and you'd be lying if you said it doesn't make you feel things someone who was just lamenting about the body, the mind and state of things tm shouldn't feel. Damn Heeseung and the effect he has on you.

"In the morning before you get to fix your hair," he says against your skin, lips light and barely ghosting over your skin but his words searing. He moves up, slow and deliberate, taking all the time in the world. His palm moves to the back of your leg, tugging it towards his mouth as he keeps kissing up to your knee, his eyes never leaving yours. "With your makeup experiments before a shower, and with water dripping off of you after." His kisses turn wetter, open mouthed and give space for his tongue to taste the saltiness of your skin when you least expect it.

Breath hitches in your throat when he reaches your thighs, watching the sweet man from mere moments ago turn into danger right before your eyes. "Hee—"

"Mh-mh. I haven't done my part as well as I thought I did if you have a single doubt about your beauty left." His voice demands all attention to be on him, and with every words he speaks the room seems to get smaller, a cage for you and him, one you hope to never leave. "My beautiful baby, when our schedules clash—" He skips over your upper thighs, catching you by surprise. Instead, he lifts the hoodie covering your waist and wraps his hands around all he can get, greedy as ever. He places soft pecks on pecks on your lower stomach even when you recoil back just the slightest bit, taken by surprise. "And I come back to you sleeping so prettily in my bed, even when I'm exhausted, I stay awake as long as I can. You look so peaceful, so cozy, in my bed. And most of the time you have my clothes on—fuck. You don't know what it does to me."

You tug weakly at his hair, but it only spurs him on. He licks a stripe from your lower tummy to right below your belly button, and you audibly gasp at this. You're ticklish, you've always been, so your legs kick a bit, yet you can't help but part them further to make space for your boyfriend. His heartbeat is pressed right on your heat, only a thin shirt of his and your even thinner underwear diving you two.

He presses a quick fluttering kiss to your belly button, and your torso lifts off the bed and pushes against him in response. It earns a laugh from him, airy and boyish just like you know his happy laugh to be. "You're so cute. I want to eat you right up." His hands keep lifting the hoodie, facilitating the trail of kisses he's giving you, but the higher he goes, the wetter and messier it gets. By the time he reaches your bra your skin is glistening, and his open mouthed worship turns into small little nibbles that have your back arching against him. "Can I?" Heeseung rests his head on your covered chest, looking up at you so innocently you almost get whiplash. His hands are behind your back, toying with the clasp of your bra, and every time they intentionally ghost on your bare skin there your whole body erupts in goosebumps.

"Only if you hurry up and touch me where I really need you to." Your fingers thread through the strands on his head again, this time gentler, and you almost coo at the way he nuzzles further into your touch.

"In due time, baby," he says as he slides the hoodie off of you. Before you can lay back on the bed, he pulls you into a languid kiss. Your breathing is uneven, even when all you've done is lay there and let him mouth at your body. A small moan escapes you when he bites your lip and pulls it gently, the press of his already hard cock against your core anything but. "Be patient for me, yeah?"

You're eager to please, nodding your head before he can finish the sentence fully, sitting up with your elbow digging into the white sheets just enough to allow him space to rid you of your bra. He unclasps it with one hand, a quick motion that's become routine by now, but never fails to have need pool violently in your lower belly. Your thighs clench around his hips, and the cocky smile Heeseung rewards you with knocks the breath—or what's left of it—out of yours lungs.

"You're so good for me. Fuck—look at these." Heeseung's voice breaks into a whiny tone, and it's the hottest it has ever sounded.

His head dips down immediately, not caring to see where the bra lands after he throws it, and his tongue flicks your nipple a few times, playfully testing the waters and tasting your skin. The second you give him what he want, the cute little gasps of pleasure he adores so much, he latches his mouth on you completely, switching between sucking and rolling your nipple between his lips just when you think he's built a steady rhythm he's satisfied with.

He keeps you on your toes, one hand rubbing circles on your waist while the other swipes gently on the nipple his mouth is not occupied with. He kisses, licks, switches to the other and moans around it when your fingers pull his hair like you need it to ground yourself. His teeth graze your most sensitive spot every so often and knowing he could bite harder but doesn't sends electricity coursing through you from head to toe and then back to your head again, until all the things that filled your mind fade into the back, replaced by him and his scent and his mouth on you.

You throw your head back against Heeseung's pillow, and the scent of his green apple shampoo envelopes you completely. You sigh softly, more relief than pleasure but mostly a mix of both, giving him free reign over and your body. You allow him to love it, you allow him to love you. Part of you might even think you deserve it, after all the stress you've put yourself through.

"There we go, sweetness." Heeseung detaches from your sensitive nipple, slick threads of spit following him while his hand keeps kneading the other. "Relax and let me do the work, alright? I don't want you to worry about a single thing." He kisses along your jaw, soothes the pulse of your neck with his tongue, until he reaches your lobe. His voice is steamy against your ear when he speaks, his hands dipping lower so he can hook his thumbs on your panties. "We're gonna take these off too, yeah? You've made a mess of them, baby. But I wanna see your pretty pussy bare. Will you let me?"

"Please—please take them off, Hee," you say, angling your head towards his mouth, searching for his lips with yours once again. "Please, I wanna feel you."

He gives in to both requests, worded and silent alike. He slides the panties off your hips while kissing the air out of you. It's messy, open mouthed and wet, closer to an exchange of spit than anything else, but you love it. You let Heeseung know just how much by suckling on this tongue.

"You're so hot, such a doll." He bites your lip to remind you who's in charge, but you don't miss the groan that leaves him or the way his eyebrows scrunch tighter.

Cold air hits your pussy when Heeseung lowers the fabric slowly, dragging out the action more than usual. He reluctantly leaves your lips, but the sight that greets him makes up for it tenfold. "Prettiest fucking pussy on the planet."

"You've seen all of them?" You giggle, but it dies down when you notice the expression on his face.

Lip caught between his teeth, eyes dark pools of lust, he watches the way you twitch in anticipation and drip all over his sheets. The curve of your hip, the swell of your tits, the marks of his bites all over your stomach, your beautiful face and your lips bitten raw. He takes it all in with no urgency, like he has all the time in the world to do so. You see it then, how he looks at you like you're the most precious piece of art, a masterpiece gifted to him, and the marks he leaves on you the perfect finishing touches.

"I don't know how you don't get horny when you see yourself in a mirror."

This time, you laugh. "Mh. Nothing of the sort."

"It's okay. We can work on that."

Heeseung undoes his brown leather belt, the loud sound of metal clinking enough to make you push your hips towards his. He is about to unbutton his jeans when the unmistakable ringtone you picked out for your mom specifically fills the room.

Your heart leaps into your throat for a second, like it does every time she calls, like you've come to expect nothing good out of it. If Heeseung is annoyed, he doesn't show it, simply reaching into his back pocket for your phone, and silencing it right there and then.

"I should probably get—"

"I don't think you should. I won't stop you, but I really don't think you should." He pins you down to the bed with his eyes alone, as if challenging you to disobey. You know your mom is only calling you again to persuade you to go to the gathering, hoping enough time passed from the conversation she had with Heeseung for you two to not be around each other anymore. She counts on you to fold when he's not backing you up, and while you'd agree with her if she were to tell you that your spine is made out of jello when it comes to your family, you realize you have had enough. Today you decide to prove her wrong.

"I don't want to answer that," you say, and for once your voice doesn't shake, you don't sound unsure of the words coming out of you.

"Good call, my love." He sets the phone face down on the nightstand, then guides your back down on the bed again. "It's only me and you right now, okay? No need to worry about anything else." He finally kicks his jeans off, giving you the perfect sight of his hard bulge fighting against the constraints of his light gray boxers. There's a wet spot, darker than the rest of the fabric, right where his tip is nestled, and you get lightheaded at the thought of him being this turned on by simply kissing up your body, by simply seeing you the way you are. He hovers over your body, but you tug at his shirt before he can fully reposition himself.

"Off, please. I wanna see you too."

The shirt comes off in one swift motion, and you get a moment to gawk at your boyfriend while he discards it somewhere on the floor. His shoulders look even broader naked, and his figure is very softly shaded by the lighting peeking through the window. Your eyes trail from his dark shaded nipples, all the way down to the tuff of hair fading into his boxers.

"I know, baby. You know exactly how it feels like." Heeseung spreads your thighs apart with a secure grip, bending them towards you to get the clearest view of your cunt possible. "I want to make sure the only thing in that little evil head of yours is how beautiful you are. You already know I think it, but I think it's time I remind you."

A surprised gasp leaves you when his lips collide with the plush skin of your thighs, legs slowly pushed open more, until they start aching in that burning way that you don't mind at all. Heeseung kisses all over them, leaving no inch of you unloved, and you wish he would reserve some of that mercy for your fluttering hole that is begging for any attention at all. If he's loving and devoted to your thighs, he's cruel to your pussy. "Hee, please—"

The sound he makes is barely one of acknowledgement, more admonishing. Taking his sweet sweet time in giving what you want isn't something new for Heeseung, when it comes to sex, that is. In the moment, all you want to so is complain, and whine, and annoy him until he hurries up and gives in, but that doesn't exactly get you anywhere most of the time, especially when he's so hell bent on proving a point as he is today. All is good though, because he has never once skipped on delivering you exactly what you need and more.

So really, the only option left is to lay there and let him do his thing until he's had his fill.

His mouth skirts across the expanse of your skin, kissing and licking, gently nibbling here and there until he finds a spot he likes enough to suck marks on. He blooms you up in shades of deep reds and purples, and when even that isn't enough to convey just how he feels about your thighs, he bites on your flesh hard enough for your hips to twitch in his face, but never enough to actually bring harm. His teeth leave tiny indents he's instantly obsessed with, his tongue lapping them up to sooth the sting. He watches you as he does it, holding your eyes through it like he's reminding you he's holding himself back from swallowing you whole.

"And when you'll wear those flimsy mini skirts and dresses I know you keep hidden in the back of your closet, too afraid to be judged," Heeseung says as he inches closer to your core, breath that was warm against your skin turning colder and colder the closer he gets. Your pussy is feverish against his lips when they brush faintly over it, gone in one second. Your whine is loud and with a bratty edge to it, so it goes ignored as he continues. "The ones that make my cock so fucking hard when you give me a little show after you shop with your girl friends—yeah, those ones."

You try your best to not chase his mouth, really, you do. But he makes it impossibly hard with the way every words hits your most sensitive part after every single syllable. Almost like a test where he set you up for failure, and when you do, lower back lifting off the bed without your permission, he giggles into it with such devastating sweetness you're actually glad for your body's betrayal. The vibrations of his laugh have you pressing into him further, and he places a tender kiss on your clit to placate you. "When you wear them, not if or maybes, I want to show you off to everyone around us. I want them all to look at these marks and know how fucking much I love your thighs, how badly obsessed I am with you and every inch of you."

Your hand slides back into his hair, trying to will him closer. You want more, need more. Now that he gave you an inch, you want to take the whole arm.

"Greedy thing, you are." Heeseung spreads your folds with his fingers, biting into his bottom lip so hard it could bleed any second. Wetness seeps out of you, and before it's wasted, his tongue laps it up like it's worth gold. "Taste as good as you look. Mhh, baby. You're so fucking wet for me." Another lick, from your hole to your clit, complete with a gentle suckle on it. He flicks it with his tongue a few time, enough to get you moaning and panting, with your free hand clawing at the bedsheets and then at his shoulder. "You love it when I tease you, right?"

"Mhh, no—fuck." You moan when his front teeth touch your clit, the light show it fires inside of you making your back arch off the mattress.

"But you do. The proof is right here," Heeseung says it with that faux condescension that makes your head spin and your cunt wetter. His thumb plays with the slick pooling at your entrance, and when your hips move too much for his liking, he holds them down with no room for wiggling with his free arm. He gathers all the slick he can, this time ignoring your poor little bundle of nerves, and pops his thumb into his mouth, licking it clean like a man starved.

"Heeseung, oh my god. Please just fucking do something." You grumble lightly and yank his hair, tired of his attention being pulled away from your wet core. You have to stifle a moan when he groans from the pain.

"This pussy is so needy, baby. Trust that I know it. But if I'm gonna make her happy, I need you to do something first."

That piques your interest, and your fingers release the death grip hold you have on his poor hair. His scalp must be sore by now. He wordlessly positions himself behind you, your side pushing onto the bed and your other shoulder warmed by the pants leaving his mouth. His hand rubs down you side, to the curve of your hip and into your inner thigh, spreading you open with the help of his knee. His hard cock is nestled right against your ass, incredibly distracting and inviting, the hand gripping your thigh just as bad.

"You see that?" Heeseung kisses your neck before angling your had with his free hand, digits digging but not quite into your cheeks, so you can see the reflection on the mirror installed into the ceiling. "I want you to praise yourself while you watch."

"That—Heeseung, that's humiliating."

"Then why did I feel you push your ass back on me, mhh? Why did you twitch like that?"

"Hee, I really can't. I don't even believ–"

"Oh, you will. You'll do it until you believe what you say."

What you see in the mirror is downright nasty. Your entire body exposed right there, it's almost wrong to see it in such an erotic scene, the same pile of flesh and nerve endings that more often than not causes you so much pain and misery. Most of Heeseung's body is covered by yours, and it feels wrong in a way, but you suspect it's intentional.

Your heart drums hard against your ribcage, uncertainty gnawing in your belly. "I don't know where to start."

Heeseung presses a long kiss behind your ear, thumb swiping on your inner thigh in reassurance. "We'll take it slow, okay? Let's go stop by step." He waits for you to nod, before continuing, "What's your favorite feature, baby?"

You think about, once, twice, rack your brain for an answer that is both heartfelt and not humiliating, but have nothing to show for. Heeseung is patient, never once rushing you, never once demanding more than you can handle. When you speak again, your voice is smaller, more fragile. Vulnerable. Something you've always been terrified of being. "I don't—I don't have one. What's yours?"

"Not the point right now, my love. It has to be yours." Heeseung's fingers, already dangerously close, slip even higher up your thigh, until you can barely focus on the question you're supposed to be answering.

"My eyes!" you blurt out, and regret it the second it leaves your lips, yeah the most cliche answer you could've gone with, definitely not what Heeseung wants to—

"The prettiest eyes ever, you're right my love." He taps the fingers that were holding your jaw next to your eye. "Watch your reflection, just like that, mh mh. Tell that to yourself in the mirror. I'm right here, okay?"

And you do. "I have pretty eyes." You swallow hard, but despite how embarrassed you are, you can't deny saying it does feel good.

"You're doing so well for me, baby. So fucking well. Give me another one, mhh? What else."

The second time around is easier, the answer slipping out of you before you have time to really think too hard about it. "My lips, I like them."

"Mhh." Heeseung pecks them, both to reinforce your positive thought and as a thank you for the kind words coming out of them, which he has not heard in a while. "Gorgeous. I want to kiss you all day. When you bite them, play with them while focusing, you have no idea what that does to me." Heat rushes to your cheeks, or well, all over you. His hand finally cups your heat fully, making your hips chase for more friction. "Tell me more, keep going."

The third time, you falter. Talking about the individual features on your face is one thing, but the entirety of it? Or worse, your body?

"Heeseung," you plead, feeling the familiar sting of tears and itchiness behind your nose quickly build up.

"You asked me what my favorite part of you is, right? Well baby, what would you say? What do you think mine is?"

"I have no idea, Hee—"

"That's right. I don't have one. It's you, the entirety of you. I love it all because I love you, the parts you like and the ones you don't." His finger dips between your folds, collecting your slick carefully before pushing in. The moan you give him is the best reward, but still, he needs more from you. "It's hard, my love, I understand. So repeat after me, alright? Just please, allow yourself to believe it." The finger inside you slowly withdraws, before entering you again, and Heeseung sets a pace between torture and pleasure. "You have the most beautiful face on the planet, my gorgeous. I stop to look at you whenever I have the chance. When you're doing the dishes, when I'm doing the dishes and you waltz into the room with a blanket wrapped around you because you get cold so ridiculously fast. When you're laying in bed scrolling aimlessly through your phone until you come across something that excites you so much you have to take a quick walk around the room. You light up in ways I can't put into words, and you're always the most beautiful, but somehow you're even more so when you have this look of happiness you can't contain, before you try to quiet it down for the sake of no one."

Everything is overwhelming when he's touching you like no one else will ever know how to, talking right into your ear with his tone rough and raw from restraint, saying things no one else will ever know to say. Another finger joins the one slowly fucking you open, your legs spreading wider in response. He's hot, thick and throbbing against your bottom half, and by now you don't need to take another look at the precum pooling through the fabric to know it's there. It drags almost imperceptibly against you, his hips moving on their own accord to find any friction. Heeseung is a very, very patient man, unbearably so, but even he can go only so long neglecting his needs.

You reach behind yourself for his cock, palming it through the thin fabric caging it. As clumsy as your movements are, it's enough for him to push harder against your palm, giving you the hottest pleasured breaths right next to your ear.

"'Wanna feel you, Hee." You moan, throwing your head back into his mouth that's licking stripes all over your neck. The hand between your thighs keeps working you up, and when he adds the brush of his thumb over your clit, you forget what you're supposed to be doing.

"Me too, baby. Want to fill you up so fucking bad." He bites your earlobe, pressing his hips harder and harder into you, the pace of his fingers never faltering. "But you have something to say first. Tell me how pretty your face is."

You want to curse him for being so damn stubborn, but that wouldn't change the fact that you agreed to do it, so now you must. "My face is pretty."

"Not quite there. Eyes open and on the mirror. Again." The circles he's drawing on your tiny nerve bundle grow faster, making focusing on what Heeseung says and his instructions get harder as well.

"My face—fuck, Hee—my face is so pretty." You lock eyes with yourself through the mirror, then travel down to the sight of Heeseung's fingers pumping in and out of you, the squelching noises that you would've found mortifying, now turning you on more than you already are.

"The prettiest." Heeseung encourages.

"The prettiest. My face is the prettiest."

"What a good girl. You're right. So fucking perfect. You deserve a reward for this, yeah?"

You nod enthusiastically when he pulls away, lowering his boxers and kicking them off, then turning back to find you already looking at him with your lip between your teeth. He's heavy, thick and veiny, a darker shade than the rest of his body, and his tip flushed with a red tint. He fists it a few time, before adjusting himself underneath you, this time both of his knees completely spreading your legs open from below, his chest flush with back.

The position he puts you in leaves you no choice but take every single inch of your exposed body in. His hand is back on your jaw to your gaze steady in front of you, closing your eyes the only way to escape it, but the way he watches you through the mirror like a hawk tells you that's not an option either.

"You're gonna tire yourself out too much holding me like—"

"I have a confession to make," he whispers wet close to your cheek. His free hand aligning the tip of his cock to your entrance, a guttural laugh vibrating through him and on your back when your hole tries to suck him in the second you feel the heaviness push into you. "The night of my birthday—mhh, fuck baby. You're so tight." He pushes in more and more, the stretch setting, your sounds a mix between a moan and a hiss. "I almost cancelled the whole party, just to spend the night with you. That's how good you looked." Your senses are on overdrive, and the sight of Heeseung slowly reach the deepest he can, his balls snug against your pussy lips, smeared in your essence. He starts pushing out, hand on your waist to prop you up so he can bend his knees for leverage and work towards setting a pace, still slow to not overwhelm you completely. "The pic of you in that dress I keep in my wallet? I've fucked my fist to it more times that I can count."

Your entire body feels the effects of his words, shivering, twitching everywhere like he's tickling you, your toes bending inwards to try to keep it together. Your sounds grow louder, his thrusts getting harsher the more you try to stifle them.

"Do I sound crazy?" He grazes hit teeth along the pulse point of your neck, and your breath gets stuck in your throat like it hurts to let it out. "You make me this way."

"Oh my god, Hee."

"Feels good?"

"So good, fuck."

"That's what I like to hear. You were made for me, beautiful doll handcrafted down to the details. Fuck, I'm obsessed."

The sound of skin slapping, wet smacking and pleasured moans fills the room in a sinful fog, and the perfect background for the pornographic image your boyfriend is delighting you with. When it's Heeseung's arms around you, his marks all over your skin, even with sweaty mess for hair and spit slobbering down your chin for makeup, you don't dislike the way you look. You might find it hot, even. Somehow, you find the bounce of your tits with every thrust of his hips hypnotizing, the stretchmarks around your hips a decoration instead of a flaw, and maybe, just maybe, you see what he means for once.

"Keep looking at how sexy you are like this, for the two us. Not just when you're all dolled up, I'm crazy for you every single day of my life, my mind is plagued by you no matter what I do. And I love it."

Your mouth hangs open when his thumb finds your clit again, the circles he draws on it lazy, on the slower side, the complete opposite of his precise thrusts.

"Do you have any idea how many wet dreams I have about you? And you wanna sit here and tell me you're not hot?" Your walls flutter, constricting his thick length enough for a broken hum to leave him. His voice gets scratchier, more desperate as he speaks, but he never finishes before you do, so he slows down the pace a little, opting for deeper strokes. "I wake up with your perfect ass on my cock and I have to get myself off in the shower before you even wake up every other day, when either of us is staying over. You go about your day without thinking twice about having my hoodie on, licking breakfast out of a spoon—you're so cruel, baby. It takes me everything, every single fucking thing to not bend you over the counter and have my way with you all day long."

Your head is slumped against Heeseung, and it's lighter than it's ever been. You struggle to keep your eyes open, wanting nothing more than to close them and let the physical sensations swallow you fully. The fire burning behind your chest is where it all starts, but your entire body feels the warmth of it, all of your limbs tingling like you can tell apart every drop of blood from the others. Keeping your sounds in is no longer an option, freeing them the only form of anchor you have left to reality. It's so, so good, better than it's ever been. Too good, even.

Heeseung's hand leaves your jaw and descends to wrap around your neck, firm but not harsh or pushy, and your pussy squeezes his cock so hard he barely stops from getting pushed out. "You like this, mhh? Of course you do." The circles he's simultaneously drawing on your clit speed up, actively working to get you to cum all around him. "This, is how it feels to see you." Fingers start to put pressure on the sides of your neck, squeezing just enough to cut any thought off. "You have me breathless."

The mirror turns hazy as your vision blurs, and if you though you couldn't float to a higher space, you were wrong, because nothing has ever made you feel so airy and empty in the best way possible. No worries, no thoughts running through your mind for sport, nothing but full, thick and otherworldly pleasure.

"I'm close, fuck, close, sosososo close." You warn Heeseung just before it all comes crashing down on you, your vision already blurry from the hold on your neck turning a blackout white, your juices spilling everywhere and making a mess of the sheets beneath you. Your legs shake, cunt fluttering harder than it ever has around your boyfriend's cock. Your weight drops on him, and he uses it to his advantage, allowing himself to fuck into you from below with all the strength he possesses, pistoning in and out of you, your slick gushing and squelching with each move.

You're still coming by the time he bites down on your shoulder as he comes inside you in thick spurts, stuffing you full to the brim. He comes so much, even when his thrusts—sloppy after the orgasm, just trying ride both of your heights out as best as he could—eventually slow down, his cum is still leaking out of you and down his balls, dripping on the soaked sheets.

"Holy fuck," Heeseung mutters, forehead pressed on your shoulder, so sweaty but you have no clue wether it's you or him, most likely both. The room stinks and so do you. "You make me cum so much." He moves to your side, but when he's about to get up, you yank him down again.

"You haven't even caught your breath yet," you say, voice hoarse. "Besides, you owe me cuddles, that was…"

His eyes flash with concern when you trail off. "Too much? Did I hurt you, baby? Was I too rough? I'll go run—"

"The best orgasm of my life."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"You tend to have that effect on people, must've been your sight."

You throw a dirty look at him, but he doesn't catch it because he's too busy turning your phone around to look at your lock screen. It's a picture of Heeseung holding your cat like a baby, matching vests and everything, which, for the record, can't even be seen at the moment because the screen is covered by a slew of notifications. Mostly calls, mostly from the same sender.

"Oh." This time it's you saying it.

"Yeah."

BONUS

"Can't we at least get rid of the cum stained sheets before we have a photo shoot?"

"Not a photo shoot, just one photo." Heeseung is standing on the bed, baby blue polaroid camera in hand as he finds the perfect angle. He cleaned you up, gave you a shirt of his, cleaned himself up, then napped with you until you woke up to a sunset, and more notifications. Then decided that he needed a pic of you like this to add to his wallet, next to the birthday one.

"Sure, hurry up. I'm cold."

"I can see it, your nipples are so hard right now. Pull the shirt up higher."

You roll your eyes, but you do. "Is this angle really necessary?"

He hums. "Gotta get the view from above like in the mirror."

And when the polaroid is ready, you peek your head over his shoulder to take a look, and this time you really cannot deny it. "That does look really good."

[enhypenjayssh]

Who should I write about? (This will be my first story and I'm very excited🥲🥲)

Husband Jake x pregnantreader

Husband Jay x pregnant reader

Voting ended onMay 25