each of the seven parts is based on a chase atlantic song that provides the feeling throughout the whole story, taking you on an emotional journey and showing the real raw side of each character's struggles.
CAREFUL, this series contains some sensitive and serious topics. Read at your own risk!
CONTAINS: profanity, drug abuse, drug addiction, mental health problems, family problems, toxic relationships, organized crime, infidelity, smoking, violence, alcohol consumption, explicit sex description
MDNI!
Lee Heeseung — The Walls
pairing: dabbler!heeseung x addict!reader (afab)
synopsis: the world of intoxication and ecstasy was something you never thought could be so enchanting, so tempting. until you went spiraling into it, unable to suppress the inner cravings and strong thirst for something so forbidden but so euphoric.
"Everybody's leaning on the walls,
I don't think they're ready for the fall
Had a little, now she wanting more
Told her that I gotta make some calls"
read here
Park Jay — Moonlight
pairing: downbad!jay x grumpy!reader (afab)
synopsis: having a pain in the ass at your heels all the time was not on your bucket-list for this semester. but still he was chasing you, not giving up even if you said it to his face, every time.
"Busy on the weekend
Caught up in your own small world
Well, I might wanna see it then
Call it hesitation, girl"
read here
Sim Jake — DEVILISH
pairing: toxic!jake x toxic!reader (afab)
synopsis: the relationships was falling apart, no thing could salvage the damage it faced, not when you keep drifting from him every chance you get and he is always up for the payback.
"Devilish, fucking with my guys, yuh
I make sacrifices you make lies up
Heaven lost an angel when I signed up
I might fuck your friend, I made my mind up"
read here
Park Sunghoon — OHMAMI
pairing: druglordsson!sunghoon x frutera!reader (afab)
synopsis: fast and luxurious lifestyle wasn't anything spectacular to sunghoon, and it can't be when he grew up bathing in it's glory. who knew that just by stopping at the random frutería in puerto vallarta would be the moment he spotted his next target, you.
"Ooh, Mami, I got blue molly
I throw Louis V, Supreme on top of Murakami
Bitch, I'm fuckin' styling, yeah
I might say I love her, but I'm lying, yeah-ah-ah"
read here
Kim Sunoo — Tidal Wave
pairing: boyfriendsfriend!sunoo x friendsgirlfriend!reader (afab)
synopsis: he shouldn't be doing this. you shouldn't be doing this. you both can't be doing this, but the tension and connection was something you didn't feel with anyone before, not even with your own boyfriend — but his friend was there to make up for it.
"Throw another stone at a glass house
He might kick my ass if he finds out
I don't wanna share, it's a damn shame
I'll still play it fair, won't drop no names"
read here
Yang Jungwon — Right Here
pairing: desperate!jungwon x done!reader (afab)
synopsis: you were done. done with this empty game of leading on. he was like that, everyone told you that but you didn't listen, only ended up being hurt and feeling like the only right thing you could do was finally walk away, and you did just that. but he was not done yet.
"It's happening again
Well, I don't give a fuck about your friends,
I'm right here"
read here
Nishimura Riki — Numb To The Feeling
pairing: addict!riki x goodgirl!reader (afab)
synopsis: who knew that the accidental encounter in a campus library would be such a turning point in your life. was is destiny? or something else?
"I need you to show me love
'Cause I'm getting numb to the feeling, yeah
I need you to ride me harder when we fuck
'Cause I'm getting numb to the feeling, whoa"
read here
COMING SOON...
! this is all work of fiction. in no way this is a representation of enhypen members nor do I believe this is how they behave in real life or condone these actions!
「pairing」 : wooyoung x fem!reader
「word count」 : 12.8k
「synopsis」 : you were in the woods one day when you came across an injured wooyoung who was being chased by hunters. he had expected you to turn him in, but to his surprise, you didn't; you led them away before offering to help him. however, this was only going to be the beginning for you and him.
「genre」 : hybrid!au, fox hybrid!wooyoung, human!reader, angst, fluff, smut
「warning」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, blood, mentions of guns, cussing, wooyoung has severe trust issues with humans, reader stitches his wound, mentions of abuse, familial issues, violence, petnames (sweetheart, baby, babydoll, love, my love...), kissing, rough makeout, unprotected sex, breast play, bulge kink, breeding, creampie, knotting, biting/marking, fingering, cum eating, clit play, overstimulation, cockwarming, mentions of war, wooyoung is unsure in the beginning, mentions of a rut, teasing, big dick!wooyoung, reader has trouble sleeping, lmk if I missed anything!
「notes」 : I wrote this in the span of 12 hrs so I apologize if it seems rushed or kind of all over the place 🫠 but this was a sudden brain rot so I just started writing...
The air was crisp as you sat against the rough trunk of a tree, the bark digging into your skin through your thin jacket. You didn’t seem to mind, though; your attention was far too sucked into the book that was in your hands. You hummed softly as you turned the page, not realizing that you were almost already finished with the book.
A loud gunshot rang through the air, causing you to jump, the book falling from your hands as you scrambled to your feet. There weren’t supposed to be hunters in this area of the woods. The birds squawk loudly overhead, and you start to panic.
Completely forgetting about your book, you rushed in the direction in which the gunshot had come from. You smacked a few branches out of your way until you came to a clearing, yet what you found shocked you.
A man hunched against a tree, his hand clutching his side. Yet that wasn’t what caught your attention; no, it was the ears that sat on top of his black hair. The fox hybrid ears that you had only seen a few times, seeing as the species tends to keep to themselves.
Sensing your presence, he looked up, meeting your shocked gaze with wide eyes. He hadn’t expected there to be another person in the woods. Were you with the hunters who were after him?
“Are yo–” You started to ask, taking a step closer to him when you noticed the crimson liquid that coated his hand, but he quickly shushed you. Confused, you opened your mouth once more but quickly closed it when you heard rushed footsteps.
“Hey!” A voice shouted, causing your head to snap over to a group of hunters, all of them holding rifles, aiming directly at you. Your heart leaped into your throat, and your hands shot up in surrender. You could tell by their appearance that they weren’t just any regular hunters. No, the insignia they wore on their coats was from a very prominent hybrid hunter organization.
You could see the fox hybrid from the corner of your eye, but you didn’t dare glance over, not wanting to give them any hints as to where he was because you were sure that he was who they were after.
Swallowing thickly, you opened your mouth, “can I help you?”
“Did you see a fox hybrid run by here?” One of the men in the front asked, his rifle still aimed at you, and your nerves spiked seeing how close his finger was to the trigger. These people were ruthless and would kill just about any and everything that got in their way.
Wooyoung, in turn, watched you, his heart pounding in his chest at the mere thought of you throwing him under the bus for your own safety. It's what every human does, after all. So he started to rack his brain for any possible ways to get out of this alive. That was until he heard you speak, his ears twitching slightly in shock.
“N-No, it’s just been me out here.” You spoke as your heart hammered against your ribs the longer he held you at gunpoint. The hunter looked at you skeptically as he took a step in your direction, and you quickly spoke again to keep him from coming any closer and finding the dark-haired male. “But I did hear scuffling in that direction on my way over!” You spoke quickly, pointing in a different direction, and the hunter raised an eyebrow, staring you down for a moment, waiting for you to show any signs of lying, but he thought you would have to be some kind of idiot to lie while you had multiple guns pointed directly at you.
“Thank you.” He nodded curtly before lowering the rifle, which in turn resulted in the others lowering theirs as well. You offered a meek smile, your hands still in the air as you watched him motion the others in the direction you pointed them in.
The air around you was silent as you watched their retreating figures, your heart beating so loud you could hear it through your own ears. Then, when they were far enough away, Wooyoung let out a groan, which pulled you out of your daze.
Without much thought to it, you rushed over to make sure he was okay, but as soon as you reached out to him, he growled, bearing his teeth at you, “Don’t touch me.”
He looked at you, a mixture of pain and fear pooling in his dark eyes, and you felt your heart drop. Swallowing thickly, you shrugged off your jacket, not caring that the cold air nipped at your bare arms, and held it out to him.
“I just want to help; I promise I’m not here to hurt you.” You spoke softly, meeting his eyes once more, and he looked between you and the jacket you were holding out. Reluctantly, he took the clothing, his fingers brushing the palm of your hand, sending a flurry of sparks along your skin. “My cabin isn’t too far from here, I can tend to your wound, and you can go after that. I just want to help.” You reassured him, keeping a comfortable distance between the two of you.
Wooyoung looked at you skeptically for a few long moments, weighing the pros and cons. He could either send you away and risk bleeding out in these very woods before he could get home, or worse, the hunters find him again. Or he could swallow his pride for a bit and allow you, a human, to help him and then he’d be free to go on his own way.
“Fine.” His tone was cold as he pushed himself off of the tree, and you stepped forward but stopped short when he let out a low growl.
“You need to add more pressure to it.” You stated as you took a step towards him despite the warning in his eyes and his ears flattened against his head. All signs that you should back off, but you pushed the fear to the side and walked towards him until you were just inches away.
He watched you with a keen gaze as you moved around him to wrap your jacket around his torso and then tie it. You jumped when a pained hiss left his lips, and his hand grabbed your wrist tightly, mumbling an apology as you finished tying off the knot after he released your wrist. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do until you got back to your cabin.
You wanted to offer to help him walk, but judging by the way his ears still haven’t relaxed and his tail is tucked down, he wasn’t going to let you do more than just lead him. Stepping away once more, you noticed that he relaxed a little bit when you weren’t so close, so you took the chance to point in the direction of your cabin.
“It’s just this way, if you need help let me kn–”
“I can walk on my own," he growled. You quickly nodded, backing off and allowing him to follow you.
–
It took a little bit longer to get to your cabin than you originally thought because Wooyoung had twisted his ankle while running, so he lagged behind. You wanted so badly to help him, but you knew not to overstep any boundaries for your own safety. But the two of you made it inside without too much of a problem, and as soon as you shut the door, you pointed towards the couch.
“You can sit there; I have to grab my first aid kit," you told him before turning and walking down the hall, leaving Wooyoung standing there.
He looked around the living room, expecting to find any sign that you might be with those hunters. Yet all he found were paintings of various nature elements and a few photographs of you and two other girls, one he knew was a cat hybrid the moment he saw her ears.
Surprised wasn’t even the word that he would use. After the war that broke out between humans and hybrids, he was sure that no other humans treated hybrids with any semblance of respect. Moving further into the house, he was met with a strong smell of vanilla and cashmere, but your scent overpowered everything else. It was sweet like cherries, but with a hint of vanilla and sage as well—a scent he had never smelled before.
Unbeknownst to him, Wooyoung’s tail started to wave softly behind him, and his ears relaxed a bit more as he picked up on the sound of you in the other room. Even when the place felt safe, he couldn’t help but keep his guard up, knowing he’d fallen into the same trick before, which cost him severely.
After finding the first aid kit, you walked back into the living room, finding the fox limping around the room as he looked at the decorations on your walls. Letting out a small cough, you caught his attention, and he looked over at you. He then walked over to the couch that you had pointed out earlier and sat down, a groan falling from his lips as he did so.
You walked over and sat the first aid kit next to him, and he suddenly froze at how close you had gotten, a low growl reverberating from his throat. You looked over at him, finding his upper lip twitching slightly, and you took a small step back, a huff leaving your lips.
“If you want me to help, you need to let me near you.” You stated, and Wooyoung glared at you but stopped growling, and you took that as a sign. Retaking your spot in front of him, you started to reach for the knot of the jacket but stopped short; he started growling in warning once more. Titling your head to look at him, your breath hitched in your throat when you realized just how close you were to him. Your eyes trailed along his features, the sharp eyes, the beauty mark that was right under his eye, then to the few scrapes he had on his cheek and jaw. His dark eyes bore into you, captivating you, and something about his closed-off nature pulled you in.
Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you ignored his growling and undid the knot of the jacket sleeves before carefully pulling the blood-soaked cloth away. Once it was off, you threw it to the ground to deal with later. Then, without another thought, you dropped down to your knees in front of him, causing Wooyoung to look at you in surprise, the growling suddenly stopping.
“Now you can either lift your shirt or take it off; either way, I need to see the wound, "you told him as you looked up at him, missing the red that dusted his cheekbones.
He looked down at you, his hands hesitantly reaching for his shirt before pulling it up just enough to reveal his lower torso. You had to stop yourself from gawking at his toned abdomen, but that didn’t stop your heart from accelerating.
Shaking your head softly, you rose up to your knees to look at the wound, and you could tell instantly that it was a gunshot wound, which didn’t surprise you. However, you hoped that it was all the way through because you didn’t have the means to remove bullets. Without a word, you peeked around his torso to look at his back, and a sigh left your lips.
“So good and bad news,” You started, moving to sit on your heels once more to look up at him, “good news, I’m pretty sure it missed anything vital, and it went completely through, so there’s no bullet for me to take out.” You told him, and he just looked down at you, not uttering a word, “Bad news, I’ll need to stitch both the entry and exit wounds, which are going to hurt because I have nothing to numb the pain.”
“If you’re worried about me passing out, don’t. I’ll be fine, so just get on with it.” His voice was gruff as he glared down at you, and you nodded before reaching for your first aid kit.
Not a word was spoken between the two of you as you started to clean the area around the wound. When you started to clean the wound itself, Wooyoung let out a pained hiss, and you apologized before blowing on it to try and alleviate some of the pain.
Wooyoung watched you in curiosity; he had never been treated this kindly by humans. Most of the ones he’s met were assholes, to put it lightly, only wanting him to show off to their human friends like he was some kind of prize. Then, the one human he thought he could actually trust turned out to be just as bad, if not worse, than the others, and some of the wounds from then were still healing.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even realized that he had been staring or that you had even said anything until you waved a hand in front of his face. He blinked a few times before focusing on you once more, the same hard gaze returning to his eyes as he raised an eyebrow.
“I need to clean the other side.” You told him as you stood and sat on the couch next to him, but he didn’t move.
Unease settled into his bones at the thought of turning his back to you, knowing that he would be defenseless if you were to attack him. As if you sensed his unease, you offered him a small, reassuring smile.
“I promise I’m just going to clean and stitch it.” You told him, your hands sitting in your lap as you held his eyes.
He stared at you for a few moments more, contemplating, but there was something in the back of his mind telling him that he could trust you. So, with slight hesitancy, he shifted on the couch with a pained groan until his back was to you.
You covered your mouth to muffle the shocked gasp that fell from your lips at the sight of his scarred skin. Most of them were healed and scarred over, but there were a few that were still fresh, meaning they had just happened recently. You reached out, your fingers brushing over the skin, but you were quick to pull away when the dark-haired male growled, his narrow eyes glaring at you from over his shoulder. Muttering an apology, you focused on the task at hand and started to clean the exit wound, repeating the same process from the other side.
You had heard from your friend that some hybrid owners would whip them, and at first, you couldn’t believe it because there had been laws in place before the war. Yet, looking at these wounds, you were sure that they had come from a whip. You then started to wonder if the person who had done this called the hunters to go after him. It pained you to know that humans could be so cruel, and you wanted nothing more than to wash away his pain, but for now, you could just help him with this one.
Goosebumps littered the male's skin when your warm breath met his skin as you blew on the wound once more. His tail twitched before laying itself across your lap, causing your eyes to widen, but you didn’t say a word, scared that it would scare him off again. Once the wound was clean, you grabbed your suture kit before sitting back to look at him.
“I’m going to stitch the exit wound first, but if you need me to stop at any time, just tell me.” You explained this to Wooyoung, and he turned his head to look at you, a dark gleam pooling in his brown iris.
You let out a sigh when he didn’t say a word before moving to sit at a better angle to stitch up the wound. As soon as you started, his hand that wasn’t holding his shirt up gripped the back of the couch, his knuckles turning white. Pain struck your heart seeing him in pain, but you knew you needed to get this done, so you focused unless he told you to stop, but he never did. After you finished off the last suture, you grabbed some bandages and covered the wound before moving away completely.
“Okay, one side done.” You told him, and he turned his body back around, watching as you knelt down on the ground in front of him once more. His eyes were on you the entire time that you started to wipe some of the fresh blood off. As you brushed over the wound again, his body jerked, causing you to lose your balance, and your hands flew out to steady yourself. However, your breath caught in your throat when you realized that it was his leg that you had used, your other hand on the couch next to his hip. Embarrassed, you fumbled over an apology as you moved away, and Wooyoung just shook his head, eyes averting your gaze as heat flushed over his face.
He would never admit it openly, but the feeling of your hands on him was nice, your skin was soft, and your scent was intoxicating, more so the closer you got. Swallowing thickly, he turned his head as you got to work stitching him up.
Once you were finished, you moved back, packing up your first aid kit before turning to look at the fox, his head still turned. “I’m all done. You’re free to leave, but you’re also more than welcome to stay here.”
You didn’t give him a chance to say anything before you scurried out of the room and towards the kitchen. Wooyoung just watched as your figure disappeared into the other room, his mind fighting with him.
He knew that he was going to leave, but why was he so hesitant about doing so? Shaking his head, he stood to his feet, a pained groan falling from his lips as he did so. He then walked around the couch and towards the door, yet when he reached for the door handle, he felt a tug at his being.
‘Don’t go.’
The voice in the back of his head became clearer than ever, the tugging growing by the second. He retracted his hand to look down at his palm. There was no way he was going to trust another human in his life, but why did he feel such a pull towards you?
Looking out the window, he saw that the sun had already set, and he gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going to be able to make it back home safely at this time. So he let out a huff, deciding that it would be best to just stay here for the night and leave first thing in the morning.
You stood in front of the stove, waiting for the kettle to finish warming up, your mind going back to the whip marks on the male’s back. Wondering who would be so cruel to do that to another person, but in this day and age, you knew that that answer would be hard to get because almost ninety percent of the human population saw hybrids as mere toys or prey for their sick games.
Wooyoung followed where you had gone, finding you standing before the stove. His ears could pick up the steady beat of your heart, and your scent once again invaded his senses. Scrunching up his nose to try and alleviate the overpowering smell, he walked towards you, the question that had been on the tip of his tongue finally falling from his lips.
“Why do you care so much?” His voice broke the silence causing you to nearly jump out of your skin, having not heard him walk in. You turned to look at him, thinking about his question for a moment.
“No one deserves to be treated like that.” You spoke softly as you looked at him, and you could clearly see the suspicion in his eyes, which you didn’t blame him; your kind wasn’t exactly the best to his, “after the war broke out, I vowed to help as many hybrids that I could which in turn got me into trouble, but I didn’t care as long as they were safe.” You explained to him before turning around to pull the screaming kettle off of the stove, pouring some of the boiling liquid into a mug with a tea bag.
Wooyoung just looked at you in confusion. He could tell by your steady heart that you weren’t lying, but he was still perplexed at the thought of you genuinely caring about hybrids. No human did, especially if it meant they would have to leave their normal lives.
“My parents ended up kicking me out after they could get me to change my mind.” You told him, answering the question that was biting at the back of his mind. You let out a sigh before opening a cabinet and pulling out another mug and tea bag, not sparing him a glance as you recalled your parents' methods to ‘persuade’ you. “My best friend is also a hybrid, but she only comes around when it's safe.” You tried to change the subject a little bit as you set the kettle back on the stove after turning it off.
The room then fell silent as you finished up the tea before you turned with both mugs, offering one to the taller male. Wooyoung looked at it skeptically but took it from your hand nonetheless, his fingers brushing against yours, and he could have sworn he felt a shock of some kind.
“I never caught your name.” You spoke as you took a small sip from your own mug, your eyes never leaving his. He mulled over whether or not to give you his name, but in the end, he didn’t see any harm in it.
“Wooyoung.” He told you curtly, and you smiled; it fit him, really.
“I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself before the room fell into a semi-comfortable silence.
You watched as Wooyoung took a sip of the tea, and you laughed softly at the disgust that twisted on his face as soon as the liquid touched his tongue. He looked down at the mug as if it had offended him, his ears twitching slightly, and you couldn’t help but find it cute.
“What is this?” He asked as he sat the mug down on the counter and looked over at you as you took another drink from your own mug.
“It’s chamomile tea," you told him with a small laugh before grabbing his mug and setting it next to the sink. It helps calm the nerves.”
“Well, it’s gross as hell," he quipped as his nose scrunched, causing you to smile endearingly. At the sight, Wooyoung felt his heart speed up under his ribs. Clearing his throat, he ran his fingers through his hair, but the pain that shot through his abdomen caused him to hiss, and you quickly looked back at him.
“Are you okay?” You asked, taking a step towards him, but that same warning gleam in his eyes from before stopped you.
“I’m fine. Is the couch free?” he asked, and you looked at him with scrunched eyebrows. Had he not expected you to let him use the bed? Seeing your expression, he let out a huff. He knew you were too good to be true. " Forget it. I’ll sleep on the floor.” He then turned and started to walk out.
Panicking a little, you sat your mug down, not caring that some spilled before you rushed forward to grab his arm, stopping him. He looked back at you, and he half expected you to tell him to sleep outside, but your words caught him completely off guard.
“I have a guest room; you don’t have to sleep on the couch or the floor.” You told him as you released his arm, taking a tentative step back as he looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. Interlocking your fingers, you looked up at him. “I can show you the room. I think I have some of my brother's old clothes in there that might fit you if you want to change them.” You told him hesitantly because you had heard about how male hybrids could be about other males' clothing; it didn’t matter if they were human or not.
He stared at you for a moment, trying to figure you out. Running his tongue over his teeth, you felt your heart leap at the sight of his elongated canines, your fingers tightening around each other. Once he agreed, you led him to the spare room, opened the door, and let him walk in.
“Make yourself at home, be wary of your stitches, and don’t get them wet until the twenty-four-hour mark passes.” You told him as you watched him walk into the room, and you noticed that he wasn’t limping anymore, which wasn’t too much of a surprise, seeing as hybrids have heightened healing. “Um, I’ll leave you to it. The clothes are in the wardrobe, and if you need anything, I’m just across the hall.” You pointed over your shoulder, and the dark-haired male nodded as he looked over at you. You offered a small smile before turning and leaving, closing the door behind you.
Wooyoung stood in the middle of the room for a few more moments before his gaze traveled over to the wardrobe, his lip curling in disgust. He would much rather sleep in his dirty clothes than wear anything that’s been near another male. So he walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge. He started to bend down to pull his boots off, but the pain stopped him.
Growling in annoyance, he pulled his leg up to unzip them, kicked them off, and lay down in the bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was met with your scent once more. It seemed like no matter where he went, you followed, but this was your home after all, so he shouldn’t be too surprised. Rolling onto his uninjured side, he tried to sleep, which wasn’t too hard after the long and exhausting day he had.
The loud rumbling of thunder woke Wooyoung dead out of his sleep, his body jolting upwards. His face twisted in pain as his hand covered his wound, pain erupting from the area. Looking around the room he noticed a digital clock sitting on the dresser that sat on the other side of the room.
‘3:47am’
Throwing the blankets off his legs, he stood from the bed and made his way towards the door. Opening it, his ears twitched as he heard movement from somewhere else in the house. Peeking out, he noticed the lights on at the end of the hall, where the living room was. Listening closer, he tried to see if he could hear anything, but the padding of the rain outside made it hard.
Carefully, he walked out of the room and down the hall with light on his feet in case it was an intruder. However, when he turned the corner all he found was you sitting on the couch, a book sitting in your lap. The dim glow of the lap that sat on the side table next to you cast a faint glow upon your skin. He couldn’t tell if it was just his sleep-fogged brain or not, but you looked breathtaking to him, and he hated that he saw you in that kind of light.
Swallowing thick, he turned to leave, not wanting to bother you or be close to you and your intoxicating scent just in case it got to his head. Yet when another clash of thunder vibrated the house, he grimaced, his hands reaching up to pull at his ears.
Hearing the floorboards creak, you looked over and found Wooyoung standing there, messing with his ears. You knew that they had sensitive ears, so you were sure that the thunder was hurting them. Putting the bookmark back into your book, you closed it before setting it down on the coffee table.
Noticing movement from the corner of his eye, Wooyoung looked over to see you standing and walking towards him. He wanted to back away and tell you to not touch him, but he could force the words off of his tongue. You stopped just a few feet in front of him, looking him over. His hair and the scruff on his ears were all messy from his sleeping, and you took note that he was still wearing his clothes. Looking back up to meet his eyes you could see the borderline fear and pain swirling in his chocolate orbs.
“Why don’t you sit down? We can watch a movie until the storm passes.” You told him as you motioned to the couch. As much as he would like to tell you to screw off, he found himself nodding and following you to the couch, taking the empty space next to you but leaving a good amount of space between the both of you.
After you both got comfortable on the couch, you found a movie and pressed play before turning the volume up just enough to drown out the sound of the rolling thunder outside. You handed him the throw blanket after noticing that he was starting to shake slightly, but otherwise, you left him alone, not wanting to push any limits.
The room was quiet, except for the sound of the movie playing through the speakers. You sat with your legs curled underneath you as you played with the loose threads on the couch arm.
“Why are you awake?” His voice caused your heart to jump into your throat, startled by the sudden noise before you glanced over at him.
“Couldn’t sleep.” You told him before turning your gaze back to the TV, your racing heart starting to calm, but Wooyoung’s eyes never left your form.
“Because of the storm?”
You took a moment to respond, mulling over what you should tell him. "Yeah… " It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to burden him with your problems.
Wooyoung could tell that you hadn’t told the full truth, but he wasn’t going to push for answers, so he just left it at that and went back to watching the movie.
About an hour and a half later, the storm finally calmed, and Wooyoung had fallen back asleep on the couch. You couldn’t bring yourself to wake him up, so you just left him after making sure that he was completely covered.
Grabbing your phone from the coffee table, you looked at the time and saw that it was a little bit after six. So you stood and made your way back to your room to change, trying to stay as quiet as possible. You were going to run to the store to grab a few groceries as well as a change of clothes for Wooyoung, something that you knew he would wear and that wasn’t already worn by someone else.
–
Wooyoung woke up with a groan, his arm covering his face from the harsh rays of sunlight. After a few moments, he lifted himself up and looked around the living room. Had he fallen asleep in here last night? His eyes then fell on a pile of folded clothes that sat on the table, a piece of paper sitting on top of them.
Reaching over, he grabbed the note, thinking that you had just laid out more of your brother's clothes for him to change into. However, as he read the note, his eyebrow raised.
‘I went to the store this morning and got you something to change into; I wasn’t too sure about your size, so I hope they fit. There’s food in the fridge, and if you need anything, I’ll be in the backyard.’ - y/n
He found it hard to believe that you actually bought him something, but as he grabbed the T-shirt, he found that the tags were still attached, and the only scent he could smell was the faint aroma of the store. His eyes then shifted to the backdoor that he could see through the doorway of the dining room back to the shirt in his hands. He was surprised but grateful nonetheless, so he gathered the clothes before heading back to the guest room to change.
When he was done changing, he went to hunt for you, which wasn’t too hard, seeing as he could hear you humming to yourself through the open window in the kitchen. So he opened the back door and found you sitting on a swinging bench with yet another book in your hands.
At the sound of the door opening, you moved your gaze away from the page you had been reading. A small smile tugged on your lips at the sight of him wearing the clothes you had bought. Closing the book, you sat it to the side and gave him your full attention.
“Do they fit alright?” you asked, and he nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment as he noticed the dark bags that had formed under your eyes. You then remembered his bandages and stood to your feet, “Have you changed your bandages yet?”
“No, I was gonna ask you where they were.” He told you that the hairs on the back of his neck stood tall when a gust of wind blew past him, and he shivered. “Why are you out here when it’s this cold?” He wasn’t even sure where the question had come from, but he wanted to know the more the chill settled into his bones, and he started to shiver.
“It’s not that bad as long as the wind isn’t blowing," you explained before grabbing your book. "Now, let's go change your bandages.” You walked back to the door and opened it before walking in, Wooyoung close behind you, ready to get out of the cold.
As you were bandaging his stitches, you started to wonder why he hadn’t left when he looked like he was ready to run out that door any moment yesterday. Unknowingly, Wooyoung was wondering the same thing to himself. He was sure that he would just leave after waking up. Yet he once again found himself being tugged back to you, wanting to stay in your presence. It was annoying as hell.
When you were done, you threw out the old bandages and left everything he needed to change them sitting on the dresser.
“I’ll leave these here for you if you leave, so you have something,” you told him as you made your way to the door. But he quickly caught your wrist in his hand, the skin tingling at the contact. Shocked, you looked back at him with wide eyes, but he kept his gaze averted, his ears folded back.
“Could I stay here?” He hated to ask because the last thing he wanted was to be stuck with a human, but his ‘home’ was merely just an abandoned factory that was on the outskirts of the city that he had made himself comfortable in after escaping the last human he was with.
As if his reaching out to grab you wasn’t shocking enough, his asking to stay here after making it seem like he wanted nothing to do with you shocked you even more. You blinked at him a few times, trying to find the words, but Wooyoung took that as a sign that you didn’t want him there, so he started to let go. At the loss of contact, the shock instantly wore off, and you grabbed his hand, catching him off guard.
“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to ask that, but yes, you’re more than welcome to stay here.” Your words came out rushed, worried that he would try to stop you if you didn’t speak fast enough. Wooyoung looked at you in shock for a moment before his eyes fell to where you were still holding onto his hand, noticing his gaze you quickly let go with an apology, sticking your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. “Uh… I’ll be out back again if you need anything!”
Wooyoung couldn’t help the small smile of amusement that spread on his lips as you tucked tail and rushed out of the room, and he definitely didn’t miss the faint blush on your cheeks. He let out a breath of air before turning and going back to the bed.
Something about you kept pulling him to you, and he wanted to figure out what it was. However, he was also worried that if he opened up too much, it would just be a repeat of last time. So, he decided to keep a good distance between the two of you so he wouldn’t run the chance of trusting another human.
It couldn’t be that hard, right?
The first week that he was there, it was easy to avoid being around you too much unless you were helping him change the bandages on his back. However, the longer he stayed with you, the more that he found himself drawn to you, and it became hard to avoid you.
Even now, as the both of you sat on the couch watching TV, the empty dinner plates were sitting on the coffee table. He sat close to you, wanting to soak in the warmth that you give off, yet he was hesitant about it, but even in the short amount of time you’ve known him you knew what he was wanting. So carefully, you reached over and grabbed his hand in yours, interlocking your fingers together. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes landed on where your hand sat in his, but you didn’t say a word nor look at him.
As much as he hated it he could feel the walls he had built up around him start to crumble the longer he stayed near you. He didn’t really hate it. He just wasn’t sure if he could trust you.
“We can take your stitches out tomorrow morning.” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked over at you, offering him a small smile. That’s when he noticed that the dark bags under your eyes had gotten worse, and his eyebrows scrunched up, causing you to laugh softly. "What are you looking at? Do I have something on my face?”
“Have you been sleeping?” His question caught your off guard and you looked at him with wide eyes.
Was it really that evident that you haven’t been sleeping well? You were sure that you had managed to cover the eyebags, just maybe not good enough. Letting out a short laugh, you reached up and rubbed the back of your neck as you turned your gaze away from him.
“Is it really that obvious? I’ve always had trouble sleeping, but it's been worse here lately.” You explained to him, releasing his hand, and he watched as you laid it on your lap. He started to worry that it had something to do with him, but you were quick to catch on, looking back over at him with a small smile. “It’s not because of you, it’s just…” A part of you wanted to spill everything to him; something about him just drawing you in like a string that was attached to your soul, but you didn’t want to overstep any lines that would make him uncomfortable.
Against his better judgment, Wooyoung reached over and took your hand back into his, interlocking your fingers together once more. Surprised, you looked down at your intertwined hands before looking up to meet his gaze. Then, despite all of the warning bells that were ringing in his head, he opened his mouth and spoke softly.
“You can tell me.” He reassured you, and you felt your heart leap at the sincerity in his eyes.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to trauma dump.” You tried to laugh it off, but he squeezed your hand, pulling your attention back to him. His gaze alone told you that he wasn’t going to let you go until you talked about it, so you just slunk back into the couch with a sigh. “My parents used to um… hit me to put it lightly back when everything was happening with the hybrids. They would wait until I was asleep in bed to come in and drag me out.” Your voice shook softly as you started to explain, averting your gaze to your and Wooyoung’s interlocked hands, watching his thumb brush the back of your hand. “Even after they finally kicked me out, I would wake up from night terrors. They got better after a while, but sometimes they get bad again, and I just can’t bring myself to sleep. I’m still petrified at the thought of them barging into my room again, so I just stay awake. Better safe than sorry.”
After you finished explaining, Wooyoung just looked at you. Even back then, you would rather take those beatings from your parents than turn against his kind. He started to see you in a new light, and he found himself even more drawn to you.
He squeezed your hand once again, catching your attention. As your eyes met his, you could feel the tears pooling in your eyes. You quickly apologized as they started to fall, turning your head to wipe them away, but he caught your chin and turned you to look back at him. He brushed his thumb over your cheekbone, wiping away the tears before he spoke again.
“As long as I’m here, you don’t have to worry about anyone hurting you like that again.” His eyes scanned your face, and he could tell that you were on the verge of breaking down. He wiped a few more tears away before pulling his hand away and you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “You need to sleep; you look exhausted.”
You let out a small sigh, but you knew he was right. It was only a matter of time before something went wrong if you kept yourself awake any longer. So you made yourself comfortable on the couch, propping your arm up to rest your head on the couch, eyes watching the TV.
Wooyoung watched you for a few more moments before turning to look back at whatever movie was playing on the TV. Before too long, he looked over to find that you were fast asleep. Your lips parted slightly, and he couldn’t help but stare. Until he noticed your eyebrows scrunching together, and you started to mumble something.
Releasing your hand, he did the first thing that came to mind: He wrapped his arm around your body and pulled you into his. As soon as your head met his chest, the soft thumping of his heart was heard under your ear. He watched for a moment as your features relaxed and his body went rigid, his ears standing tall when your arms wrapped around his torso. After a few moments, he relaxed, his arm snug around you as he continued to watch TV.
–
When you woke up, you weren’t sure what time it was. Lifting your head, you wiped the sleep out of your eyes but became acutely aware of the body under yours. Moving slowly so as not to wake the male, you reached for your phone and turned the screen to see the time pop up on the screen.
‘2:19am’
Your eyes widened as you realized just how long you had been asleep and without any nightmares at that. Looking back at Wooyoung, you grimaced at the way his head was cranked backwards. Curling your lips inward, you reached out and shook him softly.
“Wooyoung… hey, wake up, Wooyou–” You gasped when he jolted awake, his hand wrapping around your wrist, his eyes alert, and his ears folded back. However, once he realized it was just you, his ear relaxed, and his grip loosed.
“Sorry,” He apologized before releasing your wrist to rub his eyes. “What time is it?”
“A little after two, you should go to bed; you looked uncomfortable.” You told him, guilt creeping up your spine when you realized that he was like that because you were laying on him.
He looked at you for a moment, then said, “If I’m going to bed, then you should, too.”
You wanted to protest, but the stern gleam in his eyes told you that you weren’t going to win this fight even if you tried. So you nodded before standing and turning the TV off, Wooyoung not too far from you.
When you got to your door, you paused for a second, unsure if you would even be able to sleep again. Noticing your hesitance, Wooyoung stopped turning the door handle to his room to look over at you.
“Are you okay?” You jumped at his voice before looking over your shoulder at him.
“I’ll be fine; I’m just not sure if I’ll be able to sleep again.” You told him honestly, but you waved him off quickly, not wanting to bug him further. "Don’t worry about it. Good night, Wooyoung.”
Before he could utter a word, you disappeared into your room, the door shutting softly behind you. He let out a huff, his tail waving behind him, matching his annoyed state. Walking into his room, he decided that it wasn’t really his place to push you, so he just left it be.
You crawled into your bed after changing into a pair of pajamas, but as soon as you lay down and closed your eyes, flashes of those nights came back, and you quickly opened your eyes. Turning onto your back, you stared at your ceiling for a few moments before trying to sleep once again. However, you kept tossing and turning, either too uncomfortable, or fear etched itself in your head as soon as you were about to fall asleep, waking you right back up. With a huff, you started to give up on the idea of sleeping when you heard a knock at your door, nearly scaring the life out of you.
You slowly climbed out of bed and walked over to the door, opening it just enough to look out. Your eyes widened when you found Wooyoung standing there.
“What are you–”
“I can hear you moving around in the other room; I can’t sleep.” He cut you off, and your face dropped. You hadn’t meant to keep him awake. You started to apologize, but he just shook his head, his ear twitching slightly. “You seemed to sleep better when I was with you on the couch, so…” He really didn’t want to spell it out for you, and thankfully, you caught on to what he was saying.
“You don’t have to, I don’t want to trou–” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pushed past you into your room, kicking the door closed behind him and pulling you towards the bed.
“Just be quiet and lay down.” His snarky tone was something that you had grown used to over the past two weeks that he’s been here, so it didn’t bother you. No, what was getting to you was the thought of sleeping in the same bed as him. Hearing the sound of your heart rate pick up, he flicked your forehead, causing you to yelp, “We’re just sleeping. Get your head out of the gutter.”
“I– you–” You stumbled over your words in embarrassment, causing the fox to smirk. Your face was a bright shade of pink, and you thanked the heavens that it was dark so he couldn’t see it; at least, you hoped he didn’t. With a pout, you turned, walked over to the other side of the bed, and laid down, your back facing him.
Laughing softly, he took the empty space next to you, pulling the blankets over his body. The room then fell silent as you both laid there, you could already start to feel yourself drift off. Then before too long you had fallen asleep just as Wooyoung thought you would, he then laid his head back down and started to drift off. However, he was jolted from his slumber when you suddenly turned and moved closer to him, your hand brushed against his side as you moved. He stayed still for a moment until you practically curled yourself against his side before he let out a sigh and went to sleep.
–
The next morning you woke up before Wooyoung, a yawn escaping your lips as you went to sit up only to find Wooyoung’s arm draped over your body. Heat crept up your neck as you realized just how close the two of you were, his soft snores filling your ears.
Carefully untangling your body from his, you climbed out of the bed and grabbed a change of clothes before heading to the bathroom attached to your bedroom. Shutting the door behind you, you walked over to the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror.
“Snap out of it, y/n; he’s just trying to help because you’re bothering him. Don’t let it go to your head.” You sighed, turning on the tap to splash cool water over your face.
“You’re not bothering me.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, a small yelp falling from your lips as you looked up, seeing him in the reflection of the mirror.
“When did you…?” You turned to look at him with wide eyes; you hadn’t even heard the door open.
Wooyoung didn’t say a word as he stalked closer to you and you tried to back away only to be met with the counter. He then trapped your body between his and the countertop, leaning down until his warm breath washed over your face.
Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips that were merely inches away from your own and you swallowed thickly. Wooyoung wasn’t sure what had washed over him or if it was just that his rut was coming up, but that pull he felt towards you was stronger than ever this morning.
His hand then found your waist, pulling you against him, causing a soft gasp to fall from your lips. His head then dipped down, lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, “I can hear your heart hammering in your chest, sweetheart.”
“Wooyoung…” You breathed out, your hand pressing against his chest, and you could feel his own heartbeat against your palm.
The fox hummed as he moved away from your ear to look at you, his tail brushing against your bare thigh. His gaze was intense as he stared down at you, his grip on your hip tightening. You wanted to push him away, but you couldn’t, and neither could Wooyoung as he finally captured your lips with his. Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling of his plush lips against yours.
Any hesitance you felt moments before flew out the window as you melted against him, returning his eager kiss. Your arms snaked around his neck as he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You didn’t give him much of a fight as you parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. A soft moan fell from your lips when he gently bit down on your bottom lip, and Wooyoung could feel his pants grow tighter.
His kisses grew hungrier as his hands started to roam your body, fingers slipping underneath your shirt. Your brain started to go foggy as his lips trailed from yours down your jaw before finding purchase on the sensitive skin of your neck.
“W-Wooyoung.” You choked out as he started to leave hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, nipping every now and then, causing your body to shiver. His eager hands found the back of your thigh, hoisting you onto the counter, eliciting a small yelp from you.
“You smell so good.” He groaned against your skin before his hands slipped under your shirt, squeezing at the skin. “Fuck I need you, baby, so bad.”
You moaned softly at his words, your hands gripping his shoulders, “We can’t… your stitches.” You told him, trying your best not to lose yourself in the feeling of his hands on your skin and his teeth grazing your neck.
“It’s fine, they’re coming out today. You said so yourself.” He told you, pulling away from your neck to look at you. The dark lust that pooled in his eyes made your arousal grow tenfold, and you could feel your panties growing wetter.
His fingertips then brushed the underside of your breast, and his eye flickered down to your shirt at the realization that you hadn’t been wearing a bra. With quick movements, he pulled the shirt over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor. His eyes then fell on your bare breast, drinking in the sight with his eyes.
You felt so exposed under his intense gaze, goosebumps littering your skin before you started to cover yourself. However, he was quicker, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into another bruising kiss. A muffled mewl left your mouth when he cupped your breast in his hand, squeezing the soft fat.
“Don’t hide from me. You’re too pretty to hide.” His voice was hoarse as he pulled away from you; his head then dipped down. His lips latched onto the skin right above your breast, and you could feel your sanity slowly slipping away from you.
Your nails dug into his shoulder as he pressed his hips against yours, allowing you to feel how hard he was against your clothed cunt. A gasp fell from your swollen lips when he latched onto one of your nipples, teeth nipping at the sensitive bud.
“B-Bed.” You gasped out when his hand traveled down your stomach to your clothed heat.
Wooyoung let out a low growl, not wanting to waste time, but he detached himself from your breast nonetheless before picking you up. A small yelp fell from your lips as your arms wrapped your arms around his neck.
Walking back into the bedroom, he dropped you onto the bed, a small huff leaving your lips as you fell. Wooyoung didn’t leave you alone for too long, though, quickly discarding his shirt before crawling over you, his lips finding yours once more.
His hands then found the hem of your sleep shorts, fingers wrapping around the waistband, but he stopped and pulled away from your lips.
“Can I?” He asked despite the overpowering need to have you fully, not wanting to push any boundaries there may be. Your eyes fluttered open to look up at him, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him back down to you.
“Please,” You spoke softly, pressing a kiss on the corner of his lips, and that was all he needed before he hastily pulled off both your shorts and underwear. The way his eyes were devouring you had you pooling even more, your thighs rubbing together to try and alleviate some of the pressure.
Wooyoung’s head dipped down to your neck once more, nipping at the skin softly as his hand traveled down your body. He pulled your thighs apart before his fingers met with your soaping core, and he groaned against you.
“Fuck I could smell how wet you were, but I wasn’t expecting you to be this wet babydoll.” He groaned against your skin as the pad of his middle finger found your throbbing clit. The sinful sound that left your lips nearly made him lose all sense of control, and he tried his best not to bite down on your collarbone.
“W-Woo–” You were cut off by a moan when he slipped a finger into your tight walls.
“Shit baby, you’re so tight,” He chuckled darkly as your eyes rolled slightly when he curled his fingers after adding a second finger. There was no way he was going to be able to hold off for much longer before he lost it, so he sped up his pace, his thumb pressing harsh circles on your clit.
“F-fuck!” You cried out, back arching off of the bed and against him. Your mind was starting to shortcircuit when he brushed over your sweet spot, and a broken whine fell from your lips.
Wooyoung leaned up latching his lips on yours once more, stealing the air right out of your lungs. Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, holding him close to you as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. He bit at your lower lip, enough to draw blood before he started to suck on it; the mixture of pain and pleasure sent you toppling over the edge.
“Wooyoung!” You cried out as he continued to fuck his fingers into you, prolonging your orgasm for a few moments before finally pulling them out of your twitching cunt.
You watched with hooded eyes as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, licking your essence off of his digits. The sight was enough to make your need grow all over again, especially with the way his eyes bore into you. Once he was sure he had licked every last drop of your sweet nectar off of his fingers, he leaned back down over you, pressing his lips against yours again. You mewled at the taste of yourself on his tongue mixed with the tangy, metallic taste of your blood from your lip.
“Next time, I’ll have you cumming on my tongue.” He growled against your lips, and you were sure your brain was turning to putty at the thought of him between your thighs, lapping at your cunt like it was his favorite meal in the world. “But for right now… I need to be in you.”
He moved back far enough to pull the string of his sweats loose and pushed them down his legs. Your eyes grew wide at the sight of his cock, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. He was big, way bigger than anyone you had ever been with before, but for granted, you’ve never slept with a hybrid. You then started to wonder whether or not it would fit, swallowing nervously.
Sensing your unease, Wooyoung crawled back over your body, drawing your attention back to his face. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before whispering, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you, baby, I promise.”
You gazed into his eyes for a moment before nodding softly, licking your lips, “o-okay, I trust you.”
Wooyoung smiled softly before pulling you into another kiss as he grabbed himself at the base, teasing your folds with his tip. You let out soft gasps every time he bumped against your clit that slowly turned into needy whines the more he continued to tease you. Tears from the overwhelming need started to brim in your eyes, and the dark-haired male could have sworn he’d bust right then and there.
“P-please, Woo… I need you, please.” You whined as your fingers tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently.
“Alright, my needy baby.” He cooed before lining his tip with your entrance and slowly pushed into you.
The stretch was like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head as he continued to fill you. “Ah, focus on me, love,” Wooyoung whispered softly, coaxing your eyes open, and you looked at him as tears started to spill from the corner of your eyes. “Good girl.”
You moan at the praise, his length still pushing you until he finally buried himself to the hilt. Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape from the feeling of being stuffed full. Wooyoung groaned as his face fell to the crook of your neck; you were squeezing him so tightly that if he were to move right now, he’d cum.
“W-Woo…” You gasped as he unintentionally rolled his hips against yours. He quickly apologized before stilling his hips, his hand finding yours to interlock his fingers with yours.
Your shallow breaths fanned against his ear as he pressed kisses along your chest, and he groaned at the feeling. Even through your foggy haze, you could notice the effect it had on him. Your free hand moved to the top of his head, your fingers brushing against his ear, and his whole body jolted.
“Fuck baby, don’t do that.” He groaned, moving his head up to look at you and you just looked at him with doe eyes, a small smile tugging on the corner of your lips. You reached up to touch his ear once more but he caught your wrist, a small growl reverberating from his chest. The sound went right to your pussy causing you to clench around him. “I’m trying so hard to not lose control babydoll, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”
A choked moan tore from your lips when he rolled his hips into yours, pleasure washing over you in waves as he hit all the right spots in one single stroke. Wooyoung released your wrist and hand to grab your hips when you gave him the green light to move.
Stars danced across your vision as he pulled out before snapping his hips right back into yours. Your fingers dug into the sheets from the overwhelming pleasure.
“Fuck look at you.” He groaned as he continued his rough pace; it was almost animalistic if you will. His eyes then fell down to where his cock disappeared into your soaping cunt, and he felt himself grow harder at the sight of the small bulge that formed in your lower tummy every time he pushed into you.
“Shit, Woo– fuck!” You cried out as he pushed down on your stomach, making you feel him even more as he fucked into you. Tears spilled from your eyes now as your whole body felt as if it were on fire, your legs trembling around Wooyoung’s waist.
“Are you gonna cum baby?” He cooed down at you as he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, stealing the air from your lungs once more as his tip kissed your cervix at this angle. A loud pornographic moan tore from your lips when one of his hands slid between your bodies, pressing against your clit. “Cum for me, babydoll, please.” He pleaded like he was the one more desperate for your orgasm, but with a few more strokes, you felt that coil in the pit of your stomach snap, and your release gushed out all over his length.
A mixture of his name and broken moans fell from your lips as he continued his fast pace, never slowing down and throwing your body into overstimulation. Your eyes squeezed shut at the overwhelming feeling, pushing more tears out, but Wooyoung was quick to kiss them away.
“Just a little bit more; you can do that for me, can’t you, sweetheart?” He whispered into your ear before leaving a flurry of kisses along your skin. His tail brushed along your leg, the feeling of the soft fur sending a shiver down your spine. “‘M gonna fill you up so good, baby. Gonna get you pregnant with my kits; you would like that, wouldn’t you, my love?”
You mewled at his words, your mind too far gone to truly understand what he was saying to you. Your fingers then found their way back into his hair, your fingertip brushing against his ear, and his whole body shuddered.
“Please Woo– I can’t–” You whined as your hips rolled to meet with his thrusts. Every nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire.
“Shit.” He groaned as he felt his high nearing, and his hips snapped wildly into yours, making your vision turn white, nails digging into his neck. A mixture of a groan and a whimper fell from his lips as he completely buried himself to the hit once more as he came.
“W-Woo!” You cried out when you felt something stretching you even more, and it sent your third orgasm washing over you. Wooyoung buried his face in your neck as you milked his cock for all it was worth.
Once your orgasm subsided, you opened your eyes, blinking away some of the tears before looking over at Wooyoung as he pulled his head out of your neck.
“What is that?” Your voice shook slightly and the fox male just smirked down at you before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.
“It’s a knot, sweetheart. It’ll go down in a bit, but for now, try not to move too much.” He explained to you, and you let out a huff, and your head fell back, but you were sitting there for too long until Wooyoung flipped the both of you and pulled you on top of his chest. “You’ll probably be more comfortable like this.”
You let out a soft laugh before tilting your head to look up at him. "You better hope your stitches didn’t bust.” You huffed before laying your head back down on his chest as he chuckled. He ran his fingers through your hair before gently squeezing the back of your neck. Before too long, both of you had fallen asleep once more.
–
A few hours later, you were in the kitchen with Wooyoung, sitting on the barstool as you took out his stitches. He hadn’t even bothered to put a shirt on after the both of you woke up, seeing that it would be pointless.
“See, I told you they’d be fine.” He teased you as you removed the last stitch from his abdomen, and you glared up at him before raising back up.
“Yeah, and it's probably thanks to your enhanced healing.” You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged on the corner of your lips when he wrapped his hands around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him. “Woo, I need to get the stitches in your back.” You went to pull away, not missing the pout that formed on his lips or how his ears drooped.
The room then fell silent. The only sound was your soft humming as you worked on removing the stitch from his back. Once they were out, you couldn’t help but brush over the scars, and this time, Wooyoung didn’t growl or even move away; he just let you do as you please.
“They’re from the last human I was with.” His voice startled you, and you looked up, but he didn’t turn his head to look at you. You laid your palm flat against his back as you listened to what he was telling you. “She was the first human that I thought I could actually trust. She treated me with so much kindness and lured me in with false promises. Then, when she had me in her grasp, that nice facade faded, and her true colors showed through.” You could hear the slight tremble in his voice as he explained, your heart aching at the thought of the betrayal he must have felt. “She was… evil, and that’s putting it lightly. Even an inch out of line, and she’d have that damn whip in her hand.” He growled lowly as he recalled all of the painful nights he had to endure in the cold cage that she would keep him in.
You stepped closer to him, your arm wrapping around his chest, and he leaned back into you. He let out a content sigh when you ran your fingers through his hair, smoothing the scruff on his ears.
“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, but I promise that you will never have to go through that again, "you promised as you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on his temple. He hummed softly, soaking in your warmth because, for once, he actually believed your words.
You both stood there in silence, enjoying each other’s company. That was until the sounds of loud engines interrupted you. Both of you froze, unsure what that sound was. Quickly pulling yourself away from him, you walked with a light step towards the front of the house, peeking out of the front window. What you saw made your heart jump in your throat.
“Shit!” You cursed lowly as you turned back to the dark-haired male who had just walked into the living room.
“What is–”
“Wooyoung, listen to me; in the closet in the guest room, there’s a crawl space. I need you to go and hide in there, NOW!” You rushed, pushing him in the direction of the room, but he fought against you. “Dammit, Woo, go! It’s the hunters, so please go and hide, and for the love of god, do NOT come out no matter what you hear.” You pushed him towards the room once more, and Wooyoung’s heart dropped at the thought of the hunters being here again.
Reluctantly, he did as he was told, rushing into the guest room and shutting the door behind him. Opening the closet door and looking up, he found the crawl space you were talking about. Looking around, he found a bucket and quickly turned it over so he could use it as a step stool.
With a few pushes, the piece of the ceiling gave way, and he quickly pulled himself up, kicking the bucket away in the process. Once he was inside, he replaced the panel before sitting there, trying to calm his racing heart.
His ears twitched as he picked up on the sound of voices from the other room, and he prayed to god that you would be okay and the hunters would just leave when they couldn’t find what they were looking for.
The hunters had practically busted their way into the cabin and you prayed the Wooyoung made it to the crawl space in time. You jumped when the door collided with the wall roughly, and the group of three men, all wearing the same insignia, walked in.
“You can’t just barge in here.” You stood your ground, glaring at them, but they just looked at you, and the front guy smirked.
“Well, if it isn't the pretty lady from the woods.” He stepped towards you, but you quickly took a step back, keeping a good space between you. “We got word that the fox hybrid was seen in this area.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about; there hasn’t been anyone but me out here.” You stated, heart hammering against your ribs as he signaled for his men to start searching, “hey you can’t just–”
In the next second, your body hit the ground, pain burning on your cheek, and tears stung in your eyes. Looking up, you glared at the man, holding your face.
“See, we would believe that if our sources hadn’t said they saw him right here with you.” He then crouched down in front of you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back, causing a pained cry to leave your lips. “So if you wanna live to see the light of another day, you better start telling the truth.”
Your hands balled into fists as you spit at him, “There is no one but me here, douchebag.”
Another cry of pain fell from your lips when he backhanded you, the metal of his ring busting your lip. Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall as you met the man’s gaze once more. Your eyes narrowed into slits as he leaned towards you.
“You’re quite feisty; I wouldn’t mind keeping you.” He reached toward you, but you quickly knocked his hand away in disgust.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” You growled, heart beating frantically the longer the other two men were out of sight. You prayed that they were dumb enough to just look in the obvious places and not give the crawl space a second thought.
Wooyoung could hear the commotion in the living room, but as soon as he heard the pained cry fall from your lips, he wanted to give up his spot so he could make sure you were okay. However, he knew that he would only end up hurting you more, so he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the shuffling from underneath him.
Eventually, it stopped, and the footsteps retreated back towards the living room.
“We couldn’t find anything, boss.” Both men walked back into the room, and you had to fight the urge to let out a relieved sigh.
“Fucking hell.” The man in front of you growled before standing to his feet and looking down at you with a faux smile, “Sorry about the commotion, ma’am.”
You couldn’t help but scoff as they walked out of the house, slamming the door shut in the process. You didn’t dare move until you heard the sound of their engines fade off into the distance.
“Y/n!” Wooyoung called out as he got out of the crawl space, saw the mess the hunters had left, and quickly made a beeline to the living room.
You were just getting back onto your feet when he rounded the corner, and he felt his shoulders relax when he saw that you were okay. That was until you turned to face him, and he saw the blood dripping down your chin from the cut on your lip. And his vision turned red.
“Wooyoung, wait!” you called out to him as he made a beeline for the door, quickly grabbing his arm. “Wooyoung, stop; you can’t go after them!" you exclaimed as you tugged him back until he turned to look at you.
“Look at what they did to you; they need to pay.” He growled as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumb gently swiping over the cut, causing you to hiss.
“I’m fine, but you can’t go after them. You alone are no match for all of them.” You explained, and he let out a defeated sigh, knowing that you were right.
He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead before pulling away and grabbing your hand. "Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He then dragged you to the kitchen, sitting you on the same stool that he had been in just a while ago, the first aid kit in his hands.
You watched him endearingly as he cleaned up the blood from your busted lip before putting a plaster over the cut. After he was done, he wrapped his arms around your smaller frame, pulled you into his chest, and you instantly wrapped your arms around his torso.
“They shouldn’t bother us again, at least not for a long time, if they don’t want to get in trouble for harassing a human.” You told him as you rested your chin on his chest, staring up at him. He looked down at you, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.
“That's good because I can’t promise I’ll just sit idly by if they show up again.” He growled, and you knew he wasn’t joking, so you hoped they wouldn’t show their faces again.
You sat in his hold for a few more moments before pulling away and offering him a small smile "Why don’t you go get cleaned up, and I’ll make lunch?”
Wooyoung couldn’t help but smile, but he also wasn’t quick to leave your side just yet, so he refused, staying with you in the kitchen while you cooked. His playful remarks and teasing nature almost made everything feel normal once again.
But nothing fully dissipated until you were curled up on the couch with Wooyoung, watching some random movie while the both of you ate, enjoying each other’s company.
In the weeks after, there were no signs of those hunters, and you couldn’t be happier. You and Wooyoung were more than content with each other's company, even if his cockiness and teasing drove you to your wit's end.
The both of you were happy, and that was more than enough for you.
@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
SYNOPSIS — You loved the game Wordscapes and Jaehyun loved you. His long lasting crush was tiresome for his friends, you were only his classmate after all. Nevertheless, what other way was there for him to gain your attention other than playing your favourite game, Wordscapes? None. Well, completely ignoring the fact he wasn’t the best at word games.
PAIRING — loser-crush!jaehyun x crush-fem!reader (ft. boynextdoor, ricky from zerobaseone, yunjin from le sserafim, yeonjun from txt, and hanni from njz).
GENRE(S) — short smau + written, highschool au, classmates to friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slight angst, and crack.
WARNING(S) — profanity, random timestamps, wordscapes and pixel gun 3d obsession, kind of fast paced, kms/kys jokes, joking threats, corny lovebirds, mentions of being sick, and hints at manipulation.
STATUS — completed! (dec 9th, 2024 - feb 6th, 2025)
NOTE — wordscapes obsession is back…! like badly… i’m literally level 244 i can’t LMAOO wordhunt too i’m so good 125 wins ☝️☝️ anyways enjoy this smau in return!
PLAYLIST — nice guy by boynextdoor, your eyes only by enhypen, i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys, light by wave to earth, buzz love by &team, i’m in love with you by the 1975, let you break my heart again by laufey, nothing even matters by big time rush, blue lemonade by red velvet, honeypie by jawny, day 1 by red velvet.
nasty girl ─── wang yixiang ( f. reader ) -> wc 1,794
ⓘ breast fucking, deep throating, cumming on face, breast worship(?), nipple sucking, petnames ( baby, nasty girl, princess, good girl ), needy nicholas, cum eating, raw sex (dont), creampie, fingering. lmk if i missed any !!
note i just had to write this after posting my hard thought abt it … but oh em gee?! first &team work posted LESS GOO !!! if you wish to be tagged in works, apply here !! 💌 ── back 2 catalogue!
── requests are open! ( pls ignore any typos .. )
“f-fuck, baby—“ nicholas groaned, his fist full of your hair as you took his cock in your mouth, softly gagging around his length.
you dont even remember how you got in this situation. one minute you’re just chilling on the couch and the next nicholas has you on your knees in front of him, forcing you to take all of him into your mouth.
not that you were complaining, though.
the painful grip that your boyfriend had on your hair mixed with your throat being full of his cock, your eyes started to tear up. you glanced up at nicholas and his hips stuttered, his breath catching in his throat.
“oh my god—dont—dont look at me like that,” nicholas moaned, pulling your head back slightly so he could watch how deep his tip hits the back of your throat.
“fuck, im close,” he moaned, his pace quickening. your hands gripped his legs as you watched him chase his high. his hips jerking forward before he stilled, his cock still deep inside your mouth while it filled with his cum.
you choked around him which made him pull out, but before you could even do anything else, he was kissing you. forcing you to keep his cum inside your lips, having him taste himself as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.
“swallow it,” he demanded once he pulled away, his eyes staring back at yours, cold and stern. he loved watching you become his nasty girl.
and you did as you were told, you swallowed his release and took a breath, finally able to breathe again from all that. you watched his eyes light up with admiration, he loved watching how pretty you looked whenever he messed you up like this.
he moved you over to your shared bed and climbed on top of you, his hands instantly cupping your breasts from under your shirt. you never wore a bra when around him, knowing how obsessed he was with your tits. it always gave him free access to them whenever he wanted.
“baby, can i take this off?” he asked, referring to your shirt, which you quickly nodded. your nipples immediately hard as the cold air hit them, but it didnt last long before your boyfriend’s mouth was on them.
“fuck, nicho,” you whined. his tongue swirling around each bud, giving both breasts fair attention from his mouth. you could feel yourself getting wet just from this, nicho’s hand giving your tits a squeeze which caused you to whimper.
“you’re so perfect, so so pretty.” he praised as he kissed along the soft skin of your breast, his tongue flattened and sliding across them, leaving saliva all over.
whenever you and nicholas had sex, there was always a break section between the rough and dirty fucking, and that was nicho worshipping your tits. it wasnt until the 2nd year of you dating when you found out his obsession with your chest.
you always knew he liked your tits, what man wouldnt like a nice set of breasts? especially on the woman he loves? but nicholas.. oh he was a freak, he fantasized about yours. all his friends knew it too, he never shut up about it to them.
but he never wanted to rush you to his freaky desires, especially if you didnt like it. but during sex one time, you gave him the word. you pushed his head towards your boob and his face lit up.
“suck.” was all you had to say to change your sex life with him forever. now he never misses his chance to admire you, your body, praise you like you’re the finest piece of art in the world—and to him—you are, of course.
your thoughts were interrupted by his teeth, softly biting down on your skin. oh nicholas, always needing to leave his marks on your skin.
“please,” you moaned, looking down at him. he looked like he was in heaven, your chest covered in his spit and love bites, his cock fully hard again while you soaked up your inner thighs with need.
nicholas’ head snapped up at your plea, his face red with blush but his eyes filled with hunger. hunger for you. he nodded and smirked, settling into his spot right in front of your face, and you knew immediately.
your hands pushed both your breasts together so they were on either side of his hard, leaking cock. it twitched once it felt your soft skin, his lips releasing a loud whine before he looked into your eyes, begging if he could start.
you nodded and his cock started fucking between your tits, his thrusts sloppy due to the weird angle but he didnt care, you didnt care, no one cared.
he sped up, desperately trying to find that intense pleasure he always got from just this, how your head was leaned forward, mouth open, tongue out, so every time he fucked forward the tip of his cock would slide into your warm mouth.
no matter how many times this occurs within your sex life, it will never not be fucking sexy to you. watching how needy and pathetic nicholas gets just from your boobs always amazes you, and you love every second of it.
“oh fuck, fuck, princess—“ nicholas moaned, his cock twitching and begging to release, but he didnt want to end it so fast. he held in his climax, looking down to watch how dirty you looked in this position.
you leaned onto your elbows, causing a shift in the direction of his thrusts but made it even better, but now his cock slipped deeper into your mouth with every thrust. your tongue hitting his slit, nicholas felt like he was on fire.
“oh, oh, shit—“ he cursed, his hips jerking forward as he came. white strips of cum splattering across your face and onto your tongue, nicholas was breathing heavily when he moved himself off of your body to hover you, leaning down to kiss you deeply.
you moaned into the kiss, your hands moving to the back of his neck to pull him closer, deeper. he could taste himself again, never really enjoying it but nothing mattered to him when his lips were on yours, kissing the soul out of him.
his hand moved down to your panties, he gasped against your mouth as he felt how soaked you were. slowly feeling bad about how he didnt notice your needs sooner, but now its here. he pushes your undies to the side and inserted two of his fingers into your wetness.
your back arched at the sudden touch, your eyes rolling back behind your eyelids as you pushed your hips down onto his fingers. nicholas’ tongue still deep inside your mouth, inhaling your every sound.
your legs spread wider for him, giving him more room to finger fuck you. angling his fingers in all the good places, your thighs shaking slightly. “nicho, please, i need you.” you whined, finally pulling away from the passionate kiss.
nicholas didnt waste anytime after those words slipped through your lips. he removed his fingers from your cunt and ripped your panties off. he positioned himself between your legs, his cock already hard again before he pushed himself inside your heat, earning a loud cry from you.
“oh! my god,” you whimpered, finally embracing his cock with your soaked walls. nicholas groaned as even with how wet you are, you were still a bit tight but that didnt slow him down. he knew you needed to be fucked good and fucked good you will be.
“c’mon, princess, you can take it, hm?” he smirked before his pace quickened. the sounds of your needy cries and squelching of his cock sliding in and out of you, oh he was going mad.
you nodded, a small ‘yeah’ was whimpered out of you as you took him, as he used your cunt for his and your pleasure, needing to fill you up with his seed.
his hands gripped onto your hips tightly to keep you still as he pounded into your pussy, the tip of his cock nearly hitting your cervix, your stomach tightened with all the pleasure.
your skin was on fire, you were breathless but couldnt stop moaning, couldnt stop needing more. you felt like you needed him to live inside your pussy, never leaving. that’s how good nicholas always makes you feel, you never want him to stop.
“mmph—please! fuck!” you cry out, your hands gripping the bedsheets, back off the bed in a long arch. he wasnt slowing down, he wasnt going easier, he was fucking you with all he had. he was desperate, almost as desperate as you were.
“fuck, you feel so fucking good, taking my cock so well,” he praised. he was sweating, the sounds of skin slapping against each other was loud, but neither of you cared. you were always prepared to deal with noise complaints, but your pleasure was way more important right now. to the both of you.
“nicho, i’m close, im close!” you squeaked out as your thighs trembled on either side of his body, his nails digging into your skin. he was close too, his cock overstimulated with how much he had already came before.
“cum for me,” he groaned, snapping his hips roughly into you, slower but harder. you let out a loud broken cry as you came, your body shaking from the overwhelming feeling. nicholas was close behind you, his hips snapping hard and still as he filled up your cunt with his cum.
“good girl, good girl..” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your neck, breathless along with you. he stayed inside your cunt, giving you time to come down from the high, his fingers now soothing your hips. his lips kissing softly all around your skin, whispering soft nothings to you.
“‘m good now, fuck..” you breathed out, a small giggle leaving your lips as nicholas gave you his dumb cheeky smile. and just like that, he was your silly annoying boyfriend again.
“let’s stay like this for a while.” he said in a soft loving tone, all seriousness in his voice but all you could do was scoff. he was—mind you—still deep inside your cunt, and he wanted to stay like that? while his cum was dripping out from the sides?
“baby, thats nasty.” you whined, already feeling the stickiness from it all, but nicholas grumbled and pulled you closer to cuddle, a gasp leaving your mouth as his cock moved in you with it.
“you’re nasty, though.” he fought back, a grin across his lips as he held your hand and he said something you couldnt even deny. in the most sincere tone, he said—“you’re my nasty girl.”
synopsis: the world of intoxication and ecstasy was something you never thought could be so enchanting, so tempting. until you went spiraling into it unable to supress the inner cravings and strong thirst for something so forbidden but so euphoric.
genre: angst, smut, fluff
contains: drug consumption, drug addiction, alcohol consumption, coctailing, unprotected sex, smoking, established relationship
smut warnings: dom!heeseung x sub!reader, high sex, unprotected sex, dryhumping, manhandling, overstimulation, begging, cum play, oral (f. & m. receiving), dirty talk, praise, spit play, facesitting, snowballing, masturbation (f.)
NOT PROOFREAD! (english is not my first language)
MDNI!
It was his fault.
No.
It was really his fault.
But he himself couldn't stop, at least not right now.
The kisses you were leaving all over his neck, your hands groping every inch of his shoulders as you grinded over him on his lap made him weak. He threw his head back, moaning in pure bliss, the blood in his veins pumping fast, carrying adrenaline together with something more, something addictive. Cocaine.
You yourself weren't a stranger to it. If not, you were a little too far gone than Heeseung. It was enthrilling. Euphoric. No other feeling could compare to it, no other experience is equal to it. Just pure heaven. The arousal spread through your body faster, tactical. Every sound he made seemed so far yet so close. Your mind was fuzzy, body felt light and limp, it was only desire that moved you.
"Fuck baby—" He groaned out the moment you bit down into his jugular, messily letting the saliva slide down. Your thighs trapped his hips down to the couch, his slight thursts lazyly losing power with each grind down of your clothed cunt. The room felt suffocating, curtains were pulled over the windows, not letting any of the moonlight in. Only source of light was a small lamp right by the couch, casting shadows all over the living room as much as it's weak light reached.
Heeseung threw back his head, whines leaving his parted plump lips whilst you pulled back and locked your gaze on his expression. Fuck. You moaned, half lidded eyes fighting to stay open with each grind of your hips becoming harsher and faster. His sweats were drenched, your juices mixing into a messy patch. His hard lenght pressed into your pantie covered folds, sliding and letting you feel everything even over the clothes.
He was a mess, whiny. He could feel his orgasm approaching with each bump of his covered tip over your clit. Heeseung's head pulsed, the pleasure getting to his every nerve and the only thing he could do to brace himself for the high of the highs was to bite down on his forearm that he drapped over his mouth in a poor attempt to stop the sounds of becoming any louder than they already are. His other hand traveled to your hip, pushing you down harder in a desperate chase of his long awaited orgasm. "Hee, it feels so good!" You whined out, voice already hoarse from all the sounds that you let out for the past hour of humping and making out.
Heeseung was out, his eyes were tight shut, head still thrown back as his teeth dug deeper into his flesh. He nodded vigorously, not caring that you weren't getting the confirmation back. His hips gained the rhythm back, harshly fucking up into your slippery folds, cock already sore, sensitive and on the brink of bursting. You were so gone, the high of the drug not letting you down, only letting your body succumb to the pleasure easier. "Baby I'm gonna cum!" You closed your eyes, focusing on the hot knot on the verge of explosion, hands sliding over your swollen breasts, giving them a rough squezze. "Ah fuck...harder—" You cried out, head thrown back at the harsh slide of his tip over your swollen bud. It was all it took for pleasure to overflow you, hips sttutering, mouth agape open as you humped yourself through the climax.
Heeseung was there too, and the moment he hurriedly looked at your body over his lap, shaking from your own orgasm, and feeling your hot drenched pussy drag in a slightly slower grinds as you indulged in every and each second of your high, he moaned loudly letting his own take over. His tights trembled, humps became sloppy, his heart hammered violently against his ribcage as he released in the confinement of his briefs with the loudest moan he ever elicited.
Hard breathing filled the room, breaths mixing messily as your head spun from the overwhelming pleasure. His chest heavied up and down, glistening with thin layer of sweat, exhsustingly trying to get to some air. You reached over to the night table with the lamp right by the couch and swiped your finger on the residue of white powder, slowly raising it to your lips and sucking it off. You moaned in delight, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Heeseung observed you, the both highs slowly wearing off. But you on the other hand were still having fun. The euphoric smile on your face as you felt the small crytal powder against your taste buds was telling enough. Your hips grinded against him again, getting a small hiss of sensitivity back but you were still out of it, out of this reality. "Heeseung, I want more..." You cuddled into his chest, whiny voice barely sounded stable as you kissed his neck. He chuckled, peeling you off of him and bringing you up to face him.
"You want what Y/N?"
His thumb brushed your bottom lip, pulling it down before letting it bounce back. Just as he was about to pull his finger away you grabbed his hand, hazed red eyes looking up at him through the lashes. "Coke..." You took his thumb into your mouth, sucking harshly and messily. A breathy laugh left his throat at those words and he smiled teasingly. Smiled because he didn't know what mess will be created from just letting you in on his world of dabbling drugs, just simply enjoying the high for fun.
"Got you addicted to high sex, huh baby?"
And it was a mistake.
A big mistake that can't be undone as wished.
• • • • • •
Music hit Heeseung's eardrums unplesantly loud, making him silently wince in response as the entrace door closed behind him. He was hit with a smell of smoke invading his nosetrils, leaving a burning sensation up his sinuses as his eyes stinged due to the toxic fume. As he slowly took steps down the hall here and there couples were scattered around, some talking, some fighting and some making out using the hall as a secluded area for their private matters. He stepped into the living room where the rest of the party was and the scene fully unraveled before him.
Heat rushed over him instantly. The air was thick with the scent of alcohol, sweat and something undistinguishable. A makeshift dance floor had formed near the speakers, bodies moving in a reckless rhythm, lost in the music. A couple lounged on the couch, too deep in their own world to notice the people around them. The coffee table was scattered with red plastic cups and half-empty bottles, illuminated by the soft erratic glow of the neon sign placed on the wall.
Jake always knows how to throw a good party, that's for sure.
"You finally made it!"
The sudden collision with you attaching to his chest and hugging him startled him. He gasped in surprise but quickly, a smile was on his face as he hugged you back. "Woah, slow down girl!" You giggled against his thick hoodie, in the process getting some of the liquor from your cup onto his clean clothes. Heeseung felt the warmth of your body against his, but something was off. Your grip was tight—too tight. Your fingers trembled slightly where they clutched at his hoodie, and when you pulled back, he got a better look at you. Pupils were blown wide, your smile lopsided in a way that wasn’t just from the alcohol. The faint smell of vodka clung to your breath, mixing with something sharper, something artificial. He could tell.
Heeseung forced a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he studied you. "You feeling good?" His tone was casual, but his mind was racing. You grinned, nodding quickly. "So good. You should catch up, baby." You said, pressing a cold cup into his hand. Your fingers lingered on Heeseung's, eyes gleaming with a kind of feverish excitement. "Maybe later." He gave you a tight lipped grin as he placed the cup on the nearest table. Your red and hazy eyes still looking up at him, giggling to yourself.
His stomach clenched. He'd been the one to introduce you to the world of casual highs, to the occasional pill or line at a party when the night called for it. But you had been careful, hesitant even. Lately, though, that hesitation had vanished. And tonight? You were on something more than just alcohol—he could see it in the way your body swayed, like you weren't fully anchored to the ground.
It scared him.
Your relationship was just taking it's leap. Six months and counting, the first day you met still fresh in his mind as a day. And how could it not be? You got together just a few months ago, still getting to know some parts of one another and getting comfortable. You were a good girl, shy at first, always up in your own small world, kind and smart. You were everything Heeseung could ask for in a girl. But now, you were slowly changing. Maybe he shouldn't have brought you to one of these parties a couple of months ago, maybe he shouldn't have let you see him taking a ecstasy pill, maybe just maybe he didn't have to give you that pill too.
"Yo, Hee!" Heeseung's attention was stolen by the new approaching figure. "Hey Jake, what's up? " He stood before him grinning as he dabbed him up. Jake's cologne was mixed with the ever-present scent of booze and smoke in the air, his dark hair slightly tousled like he'd already been through a few rounds of partying. He glanced between Heeseung and your slow body giggling for no reason, and he gave his friend a look of concern, his eyes filled with something that only they could understand at the moment. Heeseung let his eyes drift to the ground before wandering all over the place, scanning the strangers in a attempt to avoid the pressure of his friend's gaze, and Jake got the message.
"You finally decided to show up!" Jake spoke teasingly over the loud music, getting a little closer to Heeseung. Heeseung forced a smirk. "Wouldn't miss it." Jake chuckled and held out a shot glass that he already brought with him in preparation. "Then prove it." Heeseung glanced at you and your swaying figure, the half empty glass he took out of your grip earlier now in your hands again. You seemed loose and carefree, enjoying the rhythmic bass as you let it get to you and be the only thing occupiying your mind. His uneasiness didn't fade, but it was drowned put by the heat of moment — the music, the energy. Maybe he was overthinking. Maybe you were just having fun.
And as if let off the leash, he grabbed the shot from Jake's hand and downed it in one go. The burning liquor left a heating sensation down his throat, making him grimace. Jake whooped in approval, getting himself a unopened beer from the table and handing one to Heeseung too.
And just like that, the night swallowed him whole.
Hours blurred into moments—more drinks, more laughter. Heeseung kept an eye on you, watching for any sign that you were spiraling, but the alcohol dulled the sharp edge of his suspicion. Every time he caught you giggling at nothing or losing focus mid-conversation, he told himself it was fine. You were fine. His concern that sat deep in his chest was replaced with carelessness the more he let himself enjoy the night, but it was till he felt your fingers lacing through his, pulling him with as you both stumbled through the crowd together.
Strangers brushed past him, some with barely a glance, others throwing quick smiles or playful shoves as they moved through the crowd. But it was all a blur to his tipsy mind. Dimly lit hall way was somehow empty, the only two figures that stumbled into it were you two, his hands gripped at your waist as you pushed him harshly against the wall capturing his lips in a hungry kiss.
No slow build up like usual, no teasing. Just a messy hungry kiss. Your mouth moved sloppily against his, making Heeseung smile into the kiss. You were barely standing, pathetically holding onto his shoulders as he held you up against him by the waist, the glass that you refused of letting go the whole night still somehow gripped in your palm. Agitation took over your whole body, but it was fighting with all its streght to stay collected. Your muscles were slowly giving out, but the euphoria that traveled through your system was not persisting.
You were pressing yourself against Heeseung harder, desperate to keep on partying, to keep the heat going. Heeseung whined against your lips, saliva messily dripping between your bodies and right onto your exposed clevage. You lips all of a sudden felt numb, tongue too as if something paralyzed them. No sensation was felt on them whatsoever and then your grip loosened, hands gripped at Heeseung's hoodie, lips disconnected as he was taken aback.
Heeseung barely had time to process it before your body gave out, knees buckling. A choked sound escaped your throat as if your brain was struggling to keep up with what was happening to your own body.
"Hey—" Heeseung caught you before you could hit the floor, his arms wrapping around your waist instinctively. His heartbeat, which had been pounding from the drunken high of the moment, now raced for an entirely different reason. You were trembling.
Your head lolled against his chest, breathing uneven. Heeseung quickly switched your positions, pressing your back against the wall for support. His hands framed your face, tilting your chin up so he could see your eyes. They were unfocused, pupils blown wide, expression dazed as if you weren't fully present.
"Babe—" His voice came out hoarse, the alcohol in his system doing little to soften the sharp panic slicing through him. "Hey, talk to me." Your lips parted, but no words came out. Eyes blinking sluggishly, like you were trying to wake up from a dream but couldn't find your way back. Heeseung sobered up in an instant.
This wasn’t just being drunk. This wasn’t just a high.
His stomach turned as realization hit him all at once—whatever you had taken, it was too much. Way too much. He had seen people go too far before, seen the way their bodies stopped listening to them when the mix of substances became lethal. But never you. Never this. Heeseung swallowed hard, pushing down the rising fear in his chest.
"Jake!" His voice cracked as he turned his head, searching the crowd for his friend through the living room door, hoping that somehow someone will hear. "Jake—help!" Everything around him blurred—the music, the people, the party. None of it mattered anymore. The only thing that mattered was keeping you awake. Keeping you here. Heeseung pressed his forehead against yours, gripping you tighter. "Stay with me, okay?" His voice was barely above a whisper now, his own breath shaking. "Just stay with me."
"Hey what's happe—"
"Jay! Help me get her to the bathroom! Quick!" He picked you up in his arms, running into the living room and through the crowd of piled up people, getting some insults and shows back, but he didn't care. Jay ran after him, being the only one in this whole party that didn't touch a drop of alcohol or any kind of drug since he got here ten minutes ago. The climb up the stairs felt excruciatingly longer than usual, Heeseung dodged bodies and bodies. "Move — move!" Jake barked,dragging open the bathroom door, Heeseung barged inside quickly putting you down by the sink. "Grab the sink Y/N, hold yourself up, come on." Jay slammed the door shut, fiddling with the lock hurriedly until it clicked.
Heeseung instructed to you whilst he got the water facet on, cold water numbing his fingers under the stream as he got it on your face. "Jay, hold her." Heeseung was panicking but still held his composure with his movements sharp and precise. The other boy slipped right by you, grabbing your arms that weakly gripped the sink. "She's burning up..." Jay's hand flew to your forehead. "What the hell did she take?" Jay spoke, his usually playful demeanor nowhere to be seen. Heeseung ignored the question. He didn’t know, and right now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting you back.
The music was thumbing in your head, the bass ringing off in a drowsy melody. Your ears felt stuffed, muscles weak and worn out, eyes were fixed on one dot with your mind blank and dazed. It all felt too unreal. The coldness on your face and neck made you shiver. Slight trembles were shaking you, breathing still shallow. You flinched when another splash of water meet your face, a small gasp leaving your dry mouth and lashes fluttering. Heeseung kept on cupping your face with cold water, bringing it down to your neck too. "Come on Y/N!" He spoke loud and clear, emphasizing your name.
Your breathing was still shallow, but as Heeseung pressed another handful of cool water to your warm skin, your eyes started to clear—just a little. Fingers twitched weakly against the edge of the sink with Jay still clutching you in his arms. "There you are..." Heeseung whispered, his voice barely steady, breathing still deep.
You blinked up at him, lips parting slightly as if you were about to say something—but then a sharp gasp tore from your throat. Before either of them could react, you lurched forward, retching violently into the sink. Heeseung's chest tightened, but relief washed over him at the same time. Your body was fighting back. You were coming down. Jay moved beside you, grabbing a towel and wetting it before handing it over. "She's gonna be okay. " He said, more to himself than anyone else. Heeseung nodded, rubbing your back gently as you clutched the sink, breaths ragged and uneven.
Heeseung hovered over you, one of his hands now grabbing at bits of your hair as the other gripped the wet towel, his jaw clenched tight. His gaze observed your flushed face as you gripped the sink tighter, knuckles turned white from all the retching and the vomit that was spilling from your sore throat. It was agonizing. The stench that filled the room was like no other, just pure filth of alcoholic vapor. Jay grimaced, covering his mouth with the forearm in a poor attempt to dull the smell.
You struggled to breath whilst vomiting, eyes were glossy and felt like they would fall out of your sockets any minute. The vomit slowed down, your spit getting the last bits out. You gasped for air, mind still unaware of what just happened. You slumped down onto the toilet seat right next to the counter, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Your cheeks were flushed, eyes watery but bright, still wide with the remnants of the high. Then, you laughed. A light, airy giggle that echoed off the tiles.
"God... " You said, breathless, looking up at Heeseung with a dazed smile. "That was intense." Jay observed everything, eyes going from your giggly figure up to Heeseung's fuming frame. "I'm gonna leave you two to it..." Jay mumbled before slipping out of the bathroom, giving you two space—or avoiding the fallout. The moment door clicked shut, the world quieted.
You kept on giggling, almost falling off the toilet. Heeseung stood there before you, looking down at your state, party obviously continuing in your head. His fists clenched at his sides, anger raising hot and slow beneath his skin. "Come on, let's go back—" Your hand went to grab his forearm in an attempt to stand up on your wobbly legs but his sharp voice cut you off.
"What did you take?" He asked, voice low, too calm. You blinked up at him, slightly swaying with the smile not faltering. "Relax. I just—" You chuckled softly. "I didn't expect it to hit that hard."
"What. The Fuck. Did you take?" Heeseung spat out through gritted teeth, eyes blazing through you. Your eyes flicked to his again, smile faltered for the first time tonight, eyes squinted as you thought back to it. "I had... two tabs of acid..." You spoke, words dragging against your tongue a little. "Then someone gave me a bump—he said it was just molly... I think there was something else in it. Then vodka. But not that much!—" You smiled up at him at the last part, vision still slightly blurry. His serious expression made you confess, as if he didn't already know. "—not really... "
Heeseung couldn't believe his ears. How reckless you behaved. He took a half step back, racking his hand through his hair with a huff of disbelief. "Jesus Christ—" He stared you down, waiting for any sign of regret, of realization of what you just did for the first time. But none surfaced, only a smiley drunk mess looked back at him, slightly swaying to the beat of music that got to the bathroom. "Are you even hearing yourself right now?!" His tone raised, anger getting the best of him.
"You are so hot when you are angry..." You bit your bottom lip, eyes narrowing in a seductive gaze, back leaning back against the tank. Heeseung was so worked up, not noticing or hearing your comment whilst he continued. "I was not here for the first two hours because of family stuff and you go and do something stupid like this?!" He was particularly yelling at you his hands flying all around with each word. You lazyly grabbed one of his wrist, hooded eyes looking up at him through lashes with his body being pulled close to you. "Why are you so mad? You have done worse. You were the one who told me to stop overthinking this shit and just... feel it."
"Not all at once! Not like this! I didn't tell you to fucking black out" Heeseung was furious, not being able to comprehend that you did something so reckless, something that a month ago would be a story that would creep you out before you went to bed. "You could have collapsed out there!.... If I wasn't with you then what?! You think someone would have noticed?" He stopped, attention finally fully on you that was basically hugging his hips, red glossy eyes looking up at him with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth with your chin resting on his lower stomach. You weren't listening to a thing. He clocked it the moment you two locked eyes, pure lust radiated off you as he huffed in frustration, defeat taking over. "Unbelievable." His voice cut sharp over the distant music letting each syllable bounce off the four tight walls. You giggled at that.
A joke.
This was all a joke to you.
"We are going home. Now."
"Nooo~"
• • • • • •
It's been a month. A month after you almost blacked out. You promised to Heeseung the day after the party when the hangover hit harder then ever that you won't do it again. And boy, was it hard. You got into the relationship with Heeseung knowing that about him. That he does it for fun, occasionally. You were not supportive of it, not one bit, always staying away from any kind of drugs. Throughout the whole high school you never even lit a cigar, let alone tried drugs. So being in relationship with a person who is all about the YOLO motto was kind of new, scary and at the same time refreshing.
You got to try everything that seemed intimidating and always followed with some stigma and fear. You lit your first cigar a month into the relationship at one of the visits to his apartment, surprisingly, on your own request, and he gave you one. The first ever head you got was, again, by him in his car while it rained and you two had to stop due to the downpour. It was mind blowing. Definitely one of the best rainy days to be remembered, that's for sure. The first time you got drunk was again around the same time, a month and a half into the relationship, Jake's house and that hang out is definitely one of core memories.
You could say that you were blooming, finally experiencing all the teenage stuff you missed out on. You felt alive. For the first time in your life you felt the adrenaline of doing something off limits, something that was forbiden for the longest time you could remember. The strictness of your parents that you were under till you turned eighteen was excruciating. But thankfully you were now free of that, the constant nagging now turned into "how was the party" and so on. A breath of fresh air.
On top of all that, you felt safe with Heeseung. One of his biggest virtues is making everyone feel like they belong, like they are protected when near him. And that was what attracted you to him the most. The relationship overall was thriving, you two met at the campus one random day when he actually showed up for the classes, since he had a part time job and could not get to each and every lecture. It all happened so fast, but the instant click was there.
You love him. He was everything you could ask for. Caring, kind, humble, faithful and so on. He was a dream come true. You really hit a jackpot with him as your first boyfriend and you were proud of it, of him.
But it all started slowly crumbling down bit by bit the moment drugs hit your senses. At that time you didn't realize that the clever and occasional highs with your boyfriend would have led you here.
You sat at your study desk, trying to focus and get this part of the lesson over with, but it was hard. Your leg kept on bouncing under the table, fingernails were all the time between your teeth, some of them already bleeding and red. Your mind raced with the words from the paper running around in a hope of distraction. It was no use. Your mouth was dry, no sip of water could get it hydrated enough as the water simply seemed to evaporate from your organism the moment it came in contact with it.
"Fuck." You groaned under your breath, hands coming up and messing with your hair before they rested in it. You need something. You really do or you will go insane. Abruptly getting up, you went over to your drawers and opened the first one, rummaging through it you found nothing. You groaned loudly in anger, slamming the drawer shut. You used up all the weed you had, but you knew you needed something stronger. Well as much as you told and promised Heeseung about staying away from any kind of drug that much you were lying.
The thirst was something indescribable, something you never felt before. And it could not be pushed down or forgotten. You craved the drugs. Your body betrayed you, asking for something you knew was forbiden, but it always won. No matter how hard you tried. Heeseung didn't know about your cravings, but you didn't need to tell him, he saw right through you. He knew you good enough to notice that not everything was right.
You walked in circles in the middle of your room, huffing in frustration. What should you do? Racking a hand through your messy hair you stopped. One name on your mind that you knew you could call up. Your shaky hands grabbed your phone from the bed hurriedly, quickly typing in the name and clicking on it.
One ring.
Two rings.
"Hello?"
"Hey Jungwon..."
• • • • • •
It’d been a quiet night. For once.
The apartment smelled faintly like instant noodles and cologne, the blue glow of the TV flickering across the walls as Heeseung leaned back into the couch, controller in hand, eyes locked on the screen. Jay sat on the floor, legs crossed, fingers moving furiously over his own controller. "Bro, you always camp that corner." Jay complained, tossing his head back. "You are such a rat."
"Strategic positioning." Heeseung smirked, taking another shot in game. "Don’t hate the player." Jay groaned and tossed a chip into his mouth. "Your 'strategic positioning' is annoying." The banter rolled easy between them. Normal. It felt good, like space had formed between Heeseung and everything messy he's been drowning in.
Then, his phone lit up. Heeseung's thumb paused over the controler as his eyes flicked over to the bright phone screen.
Y/N<3: come over. I miss u
He stared at it for too long that Jay noticed. "Her?" He asked, eyes back on the screen, thumbs still working over the buttons. "Yeah..." Heeseung mumbled back, already reaching for his leather jacket. "She wants me to come over." Jay's jaw clenched, hesitating before he spoke. "Wait. Before you go..." Heeseung was already on his two feet, swinging the jacket over his shoulders as he got it on. "What?" Jay shifted uncomfortably, eyes all off a sudden interested in the carpet. "I forgot to tell you... She, uh, asked Jungwon for something last week."
Heeseung blinked. "Jungwon? Like...Jungwon Jungwon?" Jay nodded back. "Yeah. Said she hit him up asking for some pills. Something mellow. I didn't think she would actually follow through but—" Heeseung's gut twisted. "You are joking." Jay raised his hands defensively. "I thought you knew." Heeseung was already walking towards the door, aggressively putting his shoes on. "She told me she was done. She looked me in the face and told me she was done."
"I know man. I didn't wanna stir shit up if she was just asking—"
"You should have told me the second you knew!" Heeseung barked, grabbing his keys. Jay stood up, eyes wide. "Wait, Hee! Don't go there pissed, you will just blow up and—" But his friend was already out the door, slamming it on the way out.
His knuckles were white around the steering wheel. Every red light made his pulse throb harder in his temples. The memory of her last time—laughing, stumbling, trying to kiss him like nothing had happened, the parties where you had no restrains played on repeat in his head. He really wanted to classify them as you just having fun, but it was going out of control even before that infamous blackout a month ago. He noticed all the small signs, the slight shakiness of your hands while at lectures, the bit down fingernails, constant drinking of water in a attempt to try and calm yourself. He noticed all. It was till the point he stopped getting high with you when alone, finding excuses like "I'm tired" or "I have none left" just so he wouldn't have to watch you fall apart. He shouldn't have gave you any in the first place to start with.
He regrets it.
You said you stopped and he believed you. And now you were doing it again. Behind his back. When he pulled up in your driveway, he noticed your parents car was not there, the only light in the house being on was in your room. Great. Getting himself out of the car he ringed once and simply let himself in. You were home alone and even left the door unlocked? Pretty responsible.
Heeseung scanned the dark living room, stepping inside and closing the door making sure to turn the lock and get his shoes off before heading up the stairs. Your door was slightly open, letting the light peak through the slight crack. When he pushed the door open, jaw locked tight, he scanned the room like he expected to see drugs lying out in the open. You flinched at the sudden sound, gripping the towel around you tighter as you turned towards the door a small smile on your lips. "Hey Hee..." You adjusted the towel on your head before taking steps towards him. Heeseung stood there, eyes going over your freshly washed body, but stiil, the smell of your baby talc was not the only thing that lingered in the air. Weed.
"Well that was fast—"
"Did you hit up Jungwon for pills?"
Silence.
You stood before him, staring blankly at his serious face. Your lips parted slightly, like you hadn't expected him to lead with that. "What?" You retorted, almost too innocent, your brows narrowed in confusion, slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "What are you talking about—"
"Don't lie to me." He took a step closer, and he had what to smell. You reeked of weed, the earthy scent faded but still there. You rolled your eyes, tension tightening your shoulders. "I didn't take anything. I just...asked."
"Why?" He snapped. "Why the hell would you do that? After everything that happened? After I carried you to the bathroom so you wouldn't pass out in the middle of a party?! Wh—"
"God, Heeseung!—" You took a step back, overwhelmed. Eyes now full of something he couldn't decifere, something you yourself couldn't quite put a finger on. "Will you stop for once... " Your chest moved shallowly as your tone changed to a whisper. "Acting like I'm a baby and can't care for myself. Stop playing dad, Jesus!" You turned away from him, taking the towel from your head and throwing it on the bed. Wet hair on your shoulders sent shivers down your spine as you grabbed the comb and started doing your hair in front of the mirror, like nothing happened. Maybe it was you just avoiding conflict. Or you were scared of the confrontation you knew will come with the argument.
"Oh, so now I'm the villain? And for what? For caring too much?! Miss me with that fucking bullshit! You think this is only about that one time huh?!..." Heeseung now stood next to you, your peripheral vision blurred by him standing close whilst you slowly dragged the brush through your wet hair, jaw tightening. "You really think I didn't notice what's been happening to you? How you have been slipping further? You think I didn't clock every excuse, every lie, every time you said it to my face and weren't honest? It's not a phase, Y/N. It's an addiction—"
"Get out of my fucking face!" You pushed at his chest, making him stumble back a bit, but not from the force—but from the slight tremble and a crack in your voice. The brush tumbled to the ground, forgotten. He hit a nerve. You trembled, eyes boring through his, fists clenched by your sides. "Hit a nerve huh—"
"I don’t need you standing there like some savior." you hissed, voice shaking—not from weakness, but rage laced with fear. "Like you are above this. Like you haven't done the same shit, worse even." He scoffed, jaw clenching. "Don't turn this on me. I never lied about what I was doing. I never pretended I was okay."
"No, you just gave it to me!" you shouted, pointing at him. "You were the one who got me into this. You handed me the first pill like it was a game. Don't stand there and act like you’re clean."
"I never thought you'd drown in it." he said, almost under his breath, but the words landed like a punch. "I didn't think you would need it." Your throat tightened. That sting behind your eyes rose fast. But you refused to let it fall. Not in front of him. Not now. "You don’t know what the fuck I need." You muttered, voice barely held together.
"That's what you do, isn't it?" he went on, voice bitter. "You push until people leave so you don't have to face what you’re doing to yourself."
"Oh, fuck you!" You screamed. "You don't know me! You think just because you stuck around during a few breakdowns, you have earned the right to speak like you are some authority on who I am?!"
“I do know you." he growled, stepping forward again. "I know you are smart. I know you are strong. And I know you are so goddamn scared of being vulnerable that you would rather burn down every good thing around you than admit you need help."
You shook your head, shaking with anger, frustration, and fear. "Stop acting like you know everything. I don't need you coming in here trying to fix me. I'm not addicted!" The last words sat heavy on your tongue, your glossy eyes looking straight into his but behind them there was something that couldn't be hidden. Unsureness.
Heeseung's face hardened. "You know what? Maybe not. Maybe I’m not good. But at least I’m not hiding behind a bottle and a fake laugh while I rot from the inside out." That one hurt. You physically recoiled. A tense, horrible silence fell between you both. Breathing hard. Shaking. You spoke first, bitter and cold.
"Get out."
Heeseung’s jaw flexed, eyes burning holes through you. "Gladly." He turned on his heels without another word and stormed out, slamming the door so hard it rattled the frame. You stood there, heart pounding, fists trembling, eyes burning.
You didn't cry.
You didn't move.
You were too mad for tears.
Too hurt to call him back.
And way too scared to admit he might have been right.
• • • • • •
It's been days. Days since you talked to your boyfriend and it was weird. Everyone noticed your distance, especially at the campus where you two litteraly avoided each other. Heeseung needed time. He had to process everything and actually think about what he wants out of this relationship. He had to figure where you two stand. It was not so easy.
You on the other hand felt empty. With Heeseung no longer by your side you felt more alone then ever. You were lonely. Sad to admit, but he was your only company. You never had much friends. The ones you had were left behind by you the moment you entered a relationship with him, and you shouldn't have done it. Heeseung was telling you that, to try to rekindle the contact with some, but you were too deep into your relationship, it consumed you to the point you didn't care for anyone else except him.
It now backfired.
As you sat down on your balcony, the starry sky over you shining and illuminating your face, almost as if caressing your heavy lashes, you were lost. Your eyes were red, red from the drug that was rushing through your bloodstream and playing with every nerve in your brain. The pill had kicked in a while ago—maybe thirty, maybe fifty minutes. Time had melted into something meaningless. Benzos always did that. It didn't hit like a train, didn't smack you across the face. It just...hushed everything. The noise in your head, the ache in your chest, the trembling in your fingers. All muted now. Just a soft, slippery nothing.
The metal chair you sat on felt uncomfortable, digging into your leaned back and backside uncomfortably as you held your legs close to your chest, head thrown back against the wall. You fucked up. You did. And your eyes stang, again. A single tear dropping down your cheek whilst you kept a blank face. He was right. He was right about everything.
Another tear.
You had a problem and you didn't know how to fix that. You shouldn't have touched drugs, you shouldn't have even thought about it. But the thrill pulled you in and made sure you kept coming back. It was a game that rarely who managed to escape, and that thought scared you. You were too prideful, no, too scared to admit what path you were going down just days ago, but now, it was all clear. There was not a day you weren't on something. That's how bad it had become. Crises were becoming a everyday thing, your apearence started to exude your inner conflicts, leading to you going to lectures not caring about proper hygiene. The last days were really a spiral that seemed inevitable. Your meals all the together weren't regular. A mess, that's the last week summed up. A fucking mess.
It had been days since you heard from him. Not a text. Not a call. Not even a passive-aggressive story repost you could overanalyze. Nothing. And somehow, this hurt more than all your fights combined. The tears started pouring down, your shaky hand came up to wipe them off but only more were coming. You gasped, hands rubbing your calfs up and down, a nervous tick that kept going even if you weren't nervous anymore.
You should have been angry. But you weren't. Or maybe you were. You couldn't tell anymore. Everything inside you had flatlined.
The highs weren't fun anymore. It wasn't wild or dizzying or euphoric. It was hollow, only acting like a stabilizer that kept you alive. The cravings did not have mercy. You fucked it all up. And maybe you had. Maybe he was done. Maybe he meant it.
The thought left nothing but a painful ache in your chest. Your head pounded, body trembled as the tears heavied your vision, the night sky now dissolving into one big blur, the sobs never stopped .
• • • • • •
The sound of laughter and bicker bounced off the alley walls next to Heeseung's building as the friends kept on talking. The city buzzed in the background, cars passing, distant chatter of people, the light bass of the music on the rooftop bar could be felt. Heeseung sat on the wodden crate with the half-burned cigar between his fingers, legs stretched out in front of him, his head tipped back as he exhaled slowly.
Jay was leaned up against the opposite wall, flipping the lighter open and shut out of habit whilst Sunghoon and Jake debated over some movie trivia, their voices loud but harmless. "Bro, I'm telling you..." Jake insisted, pointing his cigar like it was a mic. "It wasn't his real kid, it was a setup." Sunghoon scoffed at that, rolling his eyes. "Shut up. You always think everything is a conspiracy." Jay let out a chuckle at their stupid argument. "Y'all sound like a YouTube comment section." He looked over to Heeseung. "Back me up."
Heeseung gave a half-laugh, corners of his lips tugging up slightly. "I'm too high for logic right now." Everyone laughed just for a moment. Everything seemed fine. Until Jay's eyes lingered too long on Heeseung's face, reading the quiet behind the smirk. Then he spoke. "So... You heard from Y/N?" The laughter stopped like someone had hit mute, Sunghoon and Jake turning to Heeseung, noticing the uneasiness after the mention of you. His jaw ticked, fingers tightening slightly around the cigar. He didn't look at them, just took another drag, slow and heavy. "Not tryna start something. Just asking." Jay added on in defence.
Heeseung let the smoke sit on his tongue for a second before blowing it out with a scoff. "No, I haven't." The words lingered heavy in the air, Sunghoon and Jake exchanged a look but didn't say anything. Jay leaned a bit, voice low. "You miss her?" Heeseung stared ahead, watching the smoke snake through the air, his mind blank but at the same time racing before be answered. "Of course..." Jay nodded slowly, flicking the ash onto the ground. "You think she is gonna come back from it?"
Silence.
Heeseung finally looked at him, eyes darker then usual. "I don't know. That's the part that pisses me off the most. I don't know." There was a long pause. City was still bustling, but here it felt like it was frozen. "I tried." voice quiter now but still sharp. "I tried to pull her out, talks and talks. But it seems like she doesn't get the weight of it. This is all just a getting loose thing to her and it pisses me off. Acting like a fucking child..." The boys stared at him, their eyes carrying something more—sympathy, maybe. Or guilt.
"And every time I bring it up she turns it on me. I get it! I get it that I shouldn't have let her dabble with me, but I didn't know she was that labile..." Jay nodded again, humming in understanding. Sunghoon cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence with the offer. "You wanna hit something more after this? Grab a drink or something?"
Heeseung blinked, taking the last long drag from the cigar, toxic smoke spreading through his lungs before it exited through his nostrils and slightly parted lips, creating a cloud of fog over his head. He let the cigarette butt down by him, stepping with his heel on it before he answered. "Fuck yeah."
Jake whooped and threw his unfinished cigar. "Let's go!" Like always, he was up for drinking and partying. His reaction got smiles on other boys' faces, light laughter filled the alley. Heeseung knew he needed this. No regret or overthinking tonight, just simple night out with his friends. Carefree and alive. Tonight, he will get you off his mind, even if that only lasted a couple of hours.
He needs this.
• • • • • •
The clicking of cutlery against porcelain echoed softly in the dinner room together with your parents banter. The dinner before you looked beautiful—roasted vegetables, grilled chicken, all neatly plated and ready to be devoured. But you couldn't stomach any of it. You sat at the table, shoulders slouched as you stirred the rice unappetizingly with your fork. Your eyes were tired, the tired that makeup couldn't hide anymore. Your frame was hugged by a baggy hoodie, sleeves run down your arms as if almost trying to swallow you.
"You barely touched your plate." Your mom said gently, pausing her glass of water halfway to her lips. "Are you still feeling sick?" You blinked slowly. "Yeah..." You murmured under your breath. "Still kinda... off." Your dad glanced up from his phone, eyes drifting from a important email and right to your weak figure. His eyebrow furrowed. "You missed three days of classes. You sure you are okay?" Concern could be heard in his gentle tone.
"I'm fine." You answered a little too quickly, voice flat. "It's probably just the flu or something." Your mom gave you a look, skeptical but not confrontational. "Maybe we should take you to a doctor, sweetie." You shook your head. "No. I'm just tired. I'll be okay." A silence took over for a few seconds, your fork again in the plate before you, scraping it. Then your mom spoke again, more careful this time.
"I haven't seen Heeseung around for awhile. Everything okay between you two?"
The fork stilled in your hand. Your eyes locked to the plate, breathing barely noticeable. The question sliced through you —normal, casual, but you still couldn't answer it. Your mouth was opening but nothing came out. Your throat tightened, tongue sat heavy and dry. The silence grew noticeable, both of your parents now hyper focused on you, every movement stopping. Your mothers brow's knitted together. "Y/N?" You still didn’t answer.
You didn't know what to say. How do you explain that the boy they once smiled at across the doorway has not spoken to you for weeks since the last time he looked at you was like a stranger when you were in the same room together? That you couldn't bring yourself to feel normal anymore, not in your skin, not in your thoughts—and you didn't even have a good enough reason for why you spiraled in the first place.
Your dad glanced between you and your mother, he didn't push. He never did.
You finally forced a weak shrug, voice flat. "We have just been... busy. He's been with his friends." Your voice cracked in the middle, so quietly that your mother had to lean in to catch it. More silence. Your mom smiled faintly, not convinced of your words. "Alright. Well... Let us know if you want to talk about anything." You nodded quickly eyes never leaving the plate.
But in your chest, shame coiled tight—hot and choking. They didn't know. Not really. And if they ever did… if they ever truly looked close enough—
You took a shaky breath and stabbed a piece of cold chicken.
Pretending was easier.
• • • • • •
The room was dim, lit by only your bright phone screen and the moonlight that came down through the blinds. The house was quiet, pretty quiet. Your parents were working night shifts again, so that meant no people to distract you. Sheets were tangled at your feet, music playing low from the speaker, something ambient and slow, barely keeping you tethered to reality. You sat up as you clicked on the first icon in the message app, staring at the last message you had sent him.
You: come over. I miss u
It woke up the ache that you worked so hard to avoid. But there's no going back now. Your finger trembled as they danced over the keyboard, typing and retyping the same message with unsureness.
You: I miss you
Send.
You: Please come over
Send.
You: Please
Send. Send. Send.
Your chest tightened, a dull sharp ache pulsing behind your ribs. The benzodiazepines rolled through your bloodstream, turning your thoughts into a slush and muting the sharpness of the world. You didn't feel the pain exactly—not like you should have. It was more like you were watching yourself fall apart from the other side of the room. A weak laugh escaped your lips, cracked and breathy as if you were barely standing. Your hand wiped under your eyes. You didn't know if you were crying again or your vision was distorted from the high. Maybe both.
No reply.
You stared at the screen until the words blurred, until your thumb hit the message bar again and typed without thinking.
You: I'm sorry. I fucked up. I just want you. Please just come.
The silence in the room was unbearable. You fell back against the pillows, eyes locked on the ceiling. Everything felt too quiet but too loud at the same time. Your limbs were warm and numb, heartbeat slow and steady, but your thoughts spun in circles, clashing. You couldn't stop seeing his face. The way he looked at you during your last fight — angry, hurt, done. It made your gut twist at the reviving.
You sent another message.
You: I just want to feel something real again
• • • • • •
The phone buzzed once. Twice. Again. Heeseung looked at it from where he was sitting at the edge of his bed, hair damp from the late night shower, hoodie half zipped up, blunt burning low between his fingers. The screen lit up with your name, over and over again.
Y/N<3: I miss u
Y/N<3: Please come
Y/N<3: I just want to feel something real again
He stared at it, jaw tense, stomach flipping. He could already tell—she was high. The pattern, the desperation, the timing. Everything added up. He knew that too well. His thumb hovered over the screen, his pulse jumped. He hated you for doing this. He hated himself for caring. But most of all, he was hating how fast he was standing up and grabbing his keys.
He was already in your driveway, no sign of your parents car. Of course. Of course you get high and call him when you are alone. He exited the car, pulse quickening with every step he took towards the door. No light was on in the house, not even your own room. The front door creaked open under his hand. Heeseung didn't ring. He never had to.
You always left it unlocked whenever you wanted him to come. It became a unspoken rule that still somehow stood. Even now—weeks after the fallout, after everything that was said and left unsaid.
He took a step inside, slow and cautious, scanning the dark familiar living room. The whole place was quiet, dead almost. He was not even sure if anyone was at all home. He shut the door and made his way up the stairs, no light was needed, it was all too familiar. With each step up the stairs his heart hammered, throat tight. Am I really doing this again?
Reaching the top, he could see the weak light coming from under your door which was slightly cracked open, like always. He took steps and finally was face to face with the comfort of your room, only separated by the thin wood. The moment he pushed the door open, there you were. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, hoodie slipping off one shoulder, hair wild and unbrushed. Your phone was clutched in your hand and eyes red and unfocused, blinking slowly. Your head turned sluggishly when you felt him on the doorway. You didn't flinch, didn't say anything. You just stared at him like he was the only thing keeping you tethered to this world with wet cheeks and watery eyes.
"You left the door unlocked..." Heeseung spoke flatly, almost lifelessly as his eyes scanned you. How glassy your eyes were, pupils blown wide, how you were barely holding yourself together. "You came..." Your hoarse voice echoed through the room, sniffles continued. "I wasn't sure if you would." A bitter smile pulled at your lips.
Heeseung didn't answer, jaw tensed as he shut the door behind him, eyes never leaving you. "You are high." He said, eyes sharp now. You looked down at you lap. "I just needed to feel... less."
"Less what?"
"Just— less."
He slowly made his way towards you, stopping right at the foot of you bed. "You are fucking dissappearing." Your dazed eyes followed him, full of tears that were ready to downpour. You sniffled, pulling your legs up to your chest and hugging them. "Why do you care? You left me." The words left your mouth in a whisper, strained almost inaudible. "I didn't leave!" He snapped. "You pushed me out! You kept lying. Hiding even. You broke my trust!" Tears suddenly started pouring out your eyes quietly, still listening to every word his angry voice spoke. "You became distant, even when I wanted to get close to you!—"
"You think I don’t know what’s happening?! You think I can’t see it too? You think I like being like this?!" You shouted through sobs, finally letting it out. Heeseung’s eyes softened, drinking in every word as his mind raced. "No, I don't th—"
"Then stop acting you you know fucking everything!" You were now gasping from how much tears you were sheding, it was exhausting. You snapped finally, frustration getting the best of you. Everything deteriorated, everything you built collapsed right before your eyes. You chest hurt, hands trembled as cold sweat coated your skin. Heeseung took a step back from the sudden outburst. The rawness of it making his own legs weak. The moment you heard him take steps back your head snapped towards him, eyes wide in fear. "Nonono—" You repeated shaking your head in denial, getting on your wobbly knees and hands. "Heeseung, please! I'll be good. I swear, please—" You crawled towards him, eyes looking up at him through your wet lashes, glowing under the moonlight.
You finally got to the end of the bed, grabbing his wrist before you pulled him back towards the bed, staring up at his upright and strong figure hovering over your crawling one. "Please. Don't go." You got on your knees, attaching yourself to him, hands grabbing at his waist and every inch of his upper body, histerically. Like you would lose him right now, right here.
Heeseung was at a loss for words, blankly staring at your face up close after so long. And you were so beautiful. With your puffy glossy eyes, plump lips swollen, cheeks red from all the stress. You still were so beautiful to him. He gulped, scanning your panicked face, hands still by his side, not daring to lay a hand on you. Not because he didn't want to, but because he was scared he would not be able to stop.
Suddenly your eyes met, your gaze instantly changing, like a switch. Your hands sensually slowed down, caressing his hoodie covered waist. Your breaths mingled, mixing as your eyes traveled down to his lips. Silence became tense, the only sound being your slow and deep breathing. Heeseung gulped and you felt it. That subtle shift in the air, the way his chest raised just a bit more forcefully, the way his fingers twitched at his sides. He was trying, really trying to hold the line. But you could feel him crack under the weight of your desperation.
Your hands moved slower, more intentionally now, sliding up the fabric of his hoodie, gently feeling his muscles contract under your cold touch. "You still want me..." You whispered, eyes hooded and red and voice broken, shaky. "Even now... don't you?" He didn't respond. But the silence was the response.
You leaned in closer, face tilted up, lips ghosting the underside of his jaw. "Say it." You pleaded, voice trembling like your body was. "Please. Just say it." Heeseung's eyes fluttered shut for a second, jaw clenched. He was breathing through his nose, trying to keep control. "Y/N stop—"
"You always love having me like this." The graze of your lips against to corner of his mouth was the last straw, his hands finally moved—grabbing your wrists, gently but firmly, pulling them away from his body. You looked up at him, panic flashing again, eyes wide. But before you could speak, he crashed his mouth to yours.
It wasn't a kiss. It was a collapse.
Your back met the mattress again, his body following, heavy and hot, mouth devouring yours like it's his last. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as his hoodie rode up, fingers digging into the sheets, into his back, into anything you could hold yourself onto. His hands found your waist, your thighs, your face — gripping, stroking like he couldn't decide what to do first. The kiss was messy, uncoordinated, like both of you were leading your own way. Saliva mixing, tongues fighting to get the taste of each other's mouth, hungrily. He suddenly detached, earning a whine from you in response as he let his kisses down your jaw and right over your neck.
"I hate you for this." He mumbled into your neck, voice sharp, breathing erratic. "You drive me insane." You moaned in response, arching your back off the sheets and right into his body asking him to get back to work. "Hee, please..." He dived back in, kissing your neck, your clavicles, leaving open mouthed kisses with his hands traveling up your hoodie. Your skin was cold but sweaty, chest heavied up and down with each touch of his fingertips. He moved down, slowly descending onto his knees at the foot of the bed, meeting with the carpet as his lips grazed every inch of your stomach, hoodie pushed up by his big hands. You gasped for air, raising yourself by your elbows and watching him. His slouched figure grabbed at your thighs, hips, anything that was available. His nose nuzzled onto your waistband, underwear on full display before him.
He raised his eyes, making direct eye contact with you making you almost moan out loud. Heeseung had a sight to see, you meesed up, desperate for him, eyes now puppy like almost begging him to devour you. "Didn't eat this pussy in a while baby..." His fingers grazed your inner thighs, eyes moving down to scan the mess that was already accumulating. The wet patch stabbing his eyes, making him hiss at the slight movement of your hips against his gaze. "You want that, hm?" You hummed out desperately, nodding your head quickly, legs spreading further on their own.
Heeseung caressed it with the back of his fingers, feeling the wetnees over the drenched fabric. You relaxed into the touch, his knuckles hitting your covered clit in a stroking motion just right. It was gentle, teasing, and he enjoyed watching you fall apart just by his simple touch. You were sweating, the drugs still slowing you down, making the slight pleasure feel otherwordly. Heeseung hooked his fingers on your panties, pulling them away from your core before letting it slap back against it, the action making you slightly jolt. The wet sound that came of it making his mind spin. You were humming repeatedly in a haze, your eyes closed and head thrown back, hips chasing the stimulation under his eyes. "Fuck. Don't do that..." He grimaced, his sweats feeling tighter then ever. Just the simple squirm of your body was enough to make his tip leak precum in anticipation.
His hands grasped your hips, adjusting you as he lowered his head, now face to face with your soaked underwear. He blew at it experimentaly, to see if you would feel even the slightest of brush and you did. Your hips rolled in an attempt to meet whatever that was, not nothing. That's how sensitive you were. It was the last straw before he was tipped over the edge, impatience getting the best of him as he pulled the underwear off you, throwing it somewhere behind. Pushing your thighs spread open again with his palms pressing onto them, he left a harsh lick all the way from your hole to your clit. It made you scream in surprise, body aching and trembling the moment his tongue went flat over your bundle of nerves.
He was impatient. His mouth quickly attached to your clit, engulfing it with his soft wet mouth as he sucked. Your back met the mattress again, arms too weak to hold you up. You panted, head thrown back as he refused to let your bud go. It was becoming sensitive with each flick of his tongue as he harshly sucked, even moaning against your wetness. Heeseung was enjoying himself, head bobbing with each squirm of your hips against him. You tasted divine.
You were becoming a moaning mess, cold sweat covered every inch of your skin, the hoodie feeling suffocating on your torso more than ever. Lightheadedness was taking over. You were so sensitive. You can't take it. So you trashed around against his mouth, trying to run away from his savage lips, but it only made him groan, your moans became erratic, a small tight knot forming in the pit of your stomach.
It made him mad. You trying to run from him. His fingers digged harder into your inner thighs, keeping you in place. You hissed in pain from his strong hold, he was too aggressive, his mouth detaching from your clit to just let a filthy glob of spit onto it before diving back in. You sighed in slight relief but the overwhelming pleasure was back, this time his tongue skimmed over your holds, collecting all of your sticky arousal before it circled your hole. You raised your head and opened your heavy eyes, vision blurry from all the tears, cheeks flushed and red, neck heating in a uncomfortable fire. His eyes locked with yours. You moaned, mouth agape as you kept the eye contact. He smirked with his tongue traveling up to your bud and down to your hole again, teasingly poking at it, again and again.
"Tongue fuck me, yes..." You mumbled lowly through a breathy tremble more to yourself as you bit down on your lip and closed your eyes whilst throwing your head back. Hips meeting his shallow thrusts into your cunt. Heeseung almost came from the simple sight of you fucking yourself against his hot muscle. The next thing he did made you whine in need. He grabbed your knees, his hot hands against your sweaty skin made you shudder as he pushed them up and against your chest, your cunt on full display and at his mercy now. He dived right in, folding you in a uncomfortable position as his tongue thrusted into you, harder this time. You bit your bottom lip, pleasure eating you up as he didn't stop, not for a second. His hot muscle rubbed your entrance and walls in such a dirty way, hammering at a speed that had your head spin. You moaned and moaned, voice already hoarse.
"Heeseung fuck!" Your voice strained and breathy as it came out, the knot forming faster then ever, thighs shaking, ears canceling out everything as your body prepared for the climax. Heeseung could feel that you were close, your walls clenching and convulsing against his tongue, saliva dripped all onto your skin, trickling down your ass cheeks and onto the mattress together with your juices. He moaned, tongue already tired but he did not stop. His eyes closed tight in delight, waiting for your orgasm to wash over you.
One more thirst of his was enough for your body to shudder. The heat spread throughout you, blood pumping faster then ever. You moaned one last time, jaw tensing and thighs shaking. You came hard on his tongue as he fucked you through your orgasm, making sure to remember every sound and move your body let out at the moment, his smile never falling. You furiously tried to get your hips to grind against him, but it was no use, he held you down. "Yes fuck keep going— mhm..." Your pussy convulsed, after shocks still shaking you as he slowed down, finally letting your legs down and onto the bed. You were breathing hard, eyes still closed as your ears ringed. Heeseung let out a chuckle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, collecting the wetness that dripped down his jaw. He got onto the bed, knees dipping the mattress right at the sides of your worn out legs before he leaned over you, eyes scanning your panting and flushed face.
He moved a strand that sticked to your glossy lips, and he kissed you. Hard. His hands cupped your face, holding you in place. You could taste yourself on his lips, salty and tangy. It made you whine leading to him moaning in response. You grabbed his wrists, gently but firmly, pulling them away from your face and getting your hoodie finally off. Your breasts raising and falling with each breath in and out, making him lick his lips at the sight. You pressed a peck to his lips before you slowly slipped your body down, eyes boring into his glimmering with mischief. He furrowed his brows, watching your figure slide beneath his slowly, sheets wrinkling with your back dragging against them. "Y/N what—"
You were already beneath him, face to face with his bulge, cupping it as you looked over your head, lip stuck between your teeth, hand squizzing him. Heeseung’s breath got stuck in his throat whilst he stared at your figure under him who was still on his fours, gawking at your head that was now caged with his thighs . The eye contact made him smile slyly down at you, getting the idea you had. Before he could react your hands already pulled down the front of his sweatpants together with his boxers, revealing his raging cock. It almost hit you in the face, tip bulbous and red, leaking precum. Your mouth watered at the sight, and before Heeseung could say anything your tongue slid over the pulsing vein right on the underside of it.
Heeseung's mouth opened, eyes went closed shut, palms fisting the sheets painfully hard. You smirked at his reaction, getting one of your hands around his base and taking the tip into your mouth. Your tongue went over the slit, fluttering around the pulsing head as the hand stroked it. Heeseung let out a shaky breath, adrenaline making his ears hotter than ever, throat dry and hoarse. The moment your hand squeezed his lenght, he got himself upright, knees dipping deeper next to your head as a moan ruptured from his parted lips. You suckeled on the tip, teasing the hell out of him, the hand stopped with the strokes, instead both arms went around his thighs, keeping him close and anchored. His muscles flexed, contracting with each slight move of your tongue over his slit.
His hands went up to his hoodie zipper, finally releasing himself of unnecessary clothes before he threw it on the floor. Your eyes went over his revealed torso, eyes rolling back in distinguished pleasure at the picture before you. His lean body glistened with sweat under the moonlight, abs contracting on their own in tandem with your mouth against him. His chest seemed flushed, shallow breaths left his lungs in a reckless rhythm. Heeseung looked down, his fingers combing through your hair, getting a gentle grip onto it. "So good... so good for me, yeah—" He kept your head in place, giving your mouth a slow and tender thrust, not all the way in yet. You hummed in response, the vibrations sending his mouth agape, eyes narrowed and focused on the way your lips wrapped around him.
"Letting me use your mouth just how I like—"
Another whiny hum.
"Ah— look at you... So desperate that you didn't even wait for me to ask." His grip tightened around your hair, just slightly, enough to make your eyes look up at him. Tears clung to your lashed from the sheer intensity, saliva messily clinging to your chin. Heeseung's thrust gradually became deeper, his pants and whimpers coming out melodically. "You missed this cock... didn't you?—" Your mouth succumbed to him, giving him the full control, letting him thrust steadily as much as he wanted.
"Admit it."
With those words he pushed himself fully in, making you gag before retracting till he pulled out and let his tip rest on your swollen and glistening lips. You did not break eye contact, letting your tongue out and kitty licking the flushed head with the slight nod of a guilty admition. You did miss him fucking you. More than anything. Heeseung could barely breath. "You are so goddamn filthy." He stuttered out.
You teasingly opened your mouth letting it hover over his raging hard on before nodding slowly, eyes looking up at his with a glint of playfulness. "Only for you." And he was in your mouth again. Heeseung started thrusting right away, groans and whines escaping his lips. The whole time your wetness was pooling more and more between your clenched thighs. Every sound, every tremor of his body sent a wave of arousal through you. You clenched your thighs, rubbing them together in a attempt too relieve the swelling that was starting to ache.
The sliding of his cock against your soft flesh felt all too ecstatic. Saliva was dripping from the corners of your mouth, allowing him to glide with ease. His body was unraveling. His thighs were trembling now, muscles twitching from the overload. His chest rose and fell like he’d just run miles, eyes still locked on where you two connected. "You are gonna make me cum so hard…" He growled, voice hoarse, breathless. "You love doing this, don’t you? Love wrecking me."
Another groan ripped from his throat, and this time, it was broken—shameless. His hands slipped behind your head, gently, and he hissed through his teeth as he tried to hold back. You fisted the material on his hips, bracing yourself for his release. "T-take it—take all of it. Just like that—fuck, yes."
And when it finally hit him, it was devastating. His hips bucked, His hand tightened in your hair but not enough to hurt, just to ground himself in you—because he was gone. Utterly gone. Voice lost in the moan that ripped from deep in his chest.
And you didn’t move away once.
Didn’t even flinch. You kept him in your mouth, cum filling your warm cavity, some even collecting at the corners of your tight wrapped lips. You moaned in delight, tasting it against your taste buds after so long. He bucked his hips one more time into you, making sure to fuck it down your throat, and you let him before he pulled out. Cock all sore, still pulsing and limply standing before your face. His hair stuck to his forehead, chest still gasping for air as he racked a hand through his dark locks, tossing it back. You did not swallow, instead kept it in your mouth as you wiggled out from beneath him, getting on your two feet before making your way again on the bed, your knees shifting the mattress and grabbing his attention as you got in front of him. He looked down at you, raising a brow just as you grabbed his face and kissed him. Heeseung’s hands instinctively found your naked waist, pulling you closer and flush against him, your bare skins rubbing and sliding.
It was messy, raw.
His tongue tasted himself on you like he needed it—like it was the only thing that could bring him down. Cum dripped down between your bodies, messily sticking to your hot and sweaty skin. Your palms glided down his neck and right over his bulging biceps' giving them a squeeze as you caressed them, making goosebumps arise on his wet skin. "You are unreal." He groaned against your mouth, teeth grazing your bottom lip. "So fucking nasty—" His tongue licked at the white fluid dripping down your chin. "My nasty girl."
You giggled, breath hitching as his hands groped at your ass, until you were flush against his again hard cock that stood proud onto his abdomen. The way you grinded your body against it made him bite back a deep groan. You left a light kiss on his nose, the action so pure in the midst of a filthy moment. You moved his arms away from you, letting them drop down to his sides as you sat down on the bed, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you retreated all the way against the headboard. Heeseung just observed, your legs, your hips, thighs, waist, breasts — it made blood rush to his already throbbing dick. Waistbands uncomfortably hugging his scrotum, only adding more pressure when it shouldn't.
Your legs already spread, your cunt glistened with slick, the sticky substance covered your inner thighs. Fuck. Heeseung just stood there, still on his knees making sure every move you make is payed attention to till the maximum. You giggled, watching his focused face not take his eyes off of your throbing pussy. You were still glowing from the high of what just happened, skin dewy and flushed, legs spread slightly as you laid back into the pillows. But it wasn't enough. You weren't done.
You let your fingers trail lazily down your chest, between your breasts, your stomach flexing under your touch.
Heeseung didn't speak. His eyes said everything. They darkened the second your hand dipped lower. You felt your own slick, the heat of your body burning into your fingertips as you began to stroke yourself slow and deliberate—like you knew he was watching. Like you needed him to. You just locked eyes with him, fingers moving. A soft gasp left your lips, and Heeseung's expression darkened instantly.
His eyes dropped again.
Watched.
He didn’t say a word. Didn’t move.
You moaned softly, head tipping back, body arching ever so slightly, just for him. You breathed, voice like silk. You moved slow—teasing both of you. Circling, pressing, gasping. All while he watched, unmoving, fists clenched at his sides, chest rising in sharp, ragged breaths. You knew it was driving him mad—the fact that you didn't need him in that moment… but still wanted him to see it. To feel it with you.
"You like this?" you asked, lips curling. "You like seeing how wet I still am for you?" Heeseung growled, low and guttural. "You have no fucking idea." You moaned softly, fingers working against your swollen bud, gradually speeding up as you rolled your hips into your hand, lashes fluttering. He watched your thighs tremble, the way your stomach tensed with each circle of your fingers, the way your breath caught in your throat when you rubbed it in a unexpected good angle. He was painfully hard again. You could see it too, on full display against his lower stomach. His eyes never left your body.
"You are so wet." He muttered lowly, almost in amusement. "Dripping all over that pretty hand. Is that all for me?" Your back arched in response, legs spreading as far as you can, breath catching. "Always for you." You gasped. Heeseung leaned forward, finally breaking. "Let me help." It came out almost as a beg in a whisper as he crawled towards you. But just before he could touch you, your fingers moved faster and slid over your slippery clit, lewd noises filling the quiet air together with your raged breaths—head tilting back, thighs clenching. His name was escaping your parted lips, like a mantra. It was right about to wash over you, one more flick and you would have fallen apart but Heeseung couldn't just watch anymore.
He grabbed your thighs with his arms from underneath and harshly pulled you towards him, your back now flat against the bed as his upright figure stood over you on his knees. Your hand instinctively stopped the movement, instead you gasped in surprise, legs already hooked onto his hips, the back of your thighs pressed against the firm muscle of his, flexing beneath the fabric of his sweats.
Your chest rose with every breath, your heart racing in tandem with his.
Heeseung stared down at you like he was drinking you in—every curve, every flicker of expression in your face. His eyes were dark, unreadable, but you could feel what they meant. That he wanted you. Right now. His hand grabbed the pulsing cock, dragging it between your folds collecting your arousal before he tapped it on your already worn out bundle of nerves. The taps against it sent shocks through you, moans escaping your lips with head tilted back and eyes closed shut. "F-fuck..." Your strained voice echoed, almost sounding a little too painful and aching. It was a groan of desperation. Heeseung stroked himself, tip attached to your clit, his eyes scanning your folds and the way your hole was clenching, asking to be filled.
And he did just that.
He repositioned his knees, pulling them slightly away from you to get the better angle, one of his arms holding himself up next to your shoulders as he leaned over you, still pretty faraway but closer then ever at the same time. His hand led his tip down to your hole, the tip poking against the entrance in shallow teasing thrusts . He bit his lip, looking down at your fucked out expression—lips swollen, eyes half closed, cheeks flushed and hair tousled. Your hips helplessly bucked into his, almost begging him to ruin you. And before you could say anything he slammed into you. Hard. You screamed, not from pain but from pleasure—finally being filled up. He slid in with such ease, every next thrust going in easier then the last. You were getting wetter.
"Ah— shit..." He muttered under his breath, the other hand now next to your waist as he moved steadily. "Didn’t feel this pussy for so long —ah... Fuck!" He was losing it. The way you wrapped around him, hugging his lenght with your gummy walls, the sounds that came from where you two connected, and every whimper you tried to conceal every time his pelvis came in contact with your clit sent him into a frenzy, his thrusts becoming faster. "Heeseung! God— yesyesyes!" You chanted over and over again, getting your eyes down to where you two connected, his hips slamming against your skin, a sound that repeated unstoppably. You did not miss the chance to gawk on his torso—muscles moving and contracting with each movement. He looked like a fucking pornstar.
Your hand went over his forearms, grabbing at them for the support. You were a mess. He continued to ram into you, chasing his own climax—eyes closed, mouth agape. His biceps' and forearms were starting to cramp from holding his whole weight up but he didn't care. Pants filled up the room, moans, whines, groans. It was too good. Your head throbbed, neck burned and felt like it was on fire. You were close. "Heeseung I'm gonna cum! Gonna cum!" He felt you clench and he was losing it. "Yeah? Make a fucking mess baby..." Your back arched, mouth open with endless moans spilling from it, the orgasm shook you to the core with your hips bucking up to meet his, and the moment one of his hands came down to rub your clit it drove you insane. The pleasure prolonged with your thighs shaking and ears ringing, hands clawing at his forearms as if your life depended on it.
"Shit...you are gonna make me lose it!" He gasped out, almost drooling at the feeling.
You trembled, after shock sending your muscles twitching. But his thrusts didn't stop yet, he was still chasing his own release. The overstimulation made you hiss, your body relaxing in an attempt to hold on. But it was too much. "Too much Hee..." It did not reach his ears at all. His thrusts stuttered, but still went hard and deep. Whines were escaping his lips uncontrollably before he let himself fall over your trembling body. His weight trapping you down with his head nuzzling into your neck as he fisted the sheets next to your head. "Please, baby, please!—" His begs sent another spark on in you, making you moan in response. His breathing fanned your neck in rapid brushes, making you shiver. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" His thighs convulsed, a groan escaped his throat as his tip painted your walls white. His hips sloppily fucked the releasing cum into your cervix, making you moan through hard breaths, nails digging into his sweaty back.
He groaned with one last snap of his hips, his cum spilling from your tight hole as he lazily pulled out. Head still in a daze as he threw himself on his back right next to you. Pants filles the room , the silence that took over was loud enough. Both of you stared at the ceiling, up in your thoughts.
Your limbs felt numb, you were sore.
Heeseung felt conflicted and asked himself if he really knew what he got himself into.
The drugs in your system were at the brink of wearing off. And it hurt to admit. It really did.
But you felt it.
The warmth that wrapped around your body like a second skin began to fray at the edges. That false sense of ease, of pleasure, of forgetting—started to peel back. The shadows in the corners of your vision that had looked soft and slow now loomed sharper. The air felt colder, like it had shifted while you weren’t looking.
It was a circle you will be back running in even after all of this.
You knew it.
You felt it.
And stil you rolled over to your side, snuggling into Heeseung deciding that, maybe, just maybe you could ignore it and enjoy a moment for once in pure rawness. No drugs, no nothing. Just you two and the feelings. Like before.
But was it all that easy?
• • • • • •
! this is all work of fiction. in no way this is a representation of enhypen members nor do I believe this is how they behave in real life or condone these actions!
❪ synopsis ❫ after another dangerous mission, jay finds himself coming back to your apartment, injured and in need of help. you, pure at heart, can’t help but offer to treat his wounds despite the internal dilemma that consumes you – giving in to the black spiderman or reject him for the good of your family.
❪ warnings ❫ SMUT ! mdni. sexual tension. making out. grinding. mutual masturbation. slight fingering. handjob. slight dirty talk. jay & y/n almost getting caught ,, ANGST ! jay’s spiderman is not a typical superhero, so he’s a morally gray character. he’s not bad tho, promise 🤞🏻 injuries. mention of fights. y/n’s dad deserves his own warning, yikes… there’s probably gonna be a part 2 🤭
The city of New York sprawls beneath you, its skyline a jagged silhouette against the night sky. The streets are alive, buzzing with the faint hum of traffic and the occasional siren wailing in the distance.
But up here, in your small corner of the world, everything feels quieter – almost too quiet. The only sound in the room is the soft rustle of pages as you scribble down notes for the assignment that have been weighing on your mind all evening.
You sit at your desk, the faint light of your desk lamp casting long shadows across the scattered textbooks, but your gaze keeps drifting from the paper to the window. Through the half-drawn blinds, you can see the city below, its neon lights flickering like a heartbeat, a sign that the city you so love – and yet despise – never truly rests.
Your focus wavers, the words on the page blurring as your thoughts drift, always circling back to him – Park Jongseong.
Jay.
The boy who sat across from you in class, the incredible smart kid that always got paired up with you in science class.
The one who had kissed you at the top of your building after he confessed to you that he wasn’t like everybody else – that he was Spiderman.
The memory of that moment plays in your mind – how his lips had tasted, how the world seemed to vanish as you kissed him under the night sky. That kiss had left you breathless, confused, and yet it still lingered, a warmth you couldn’t shake, even now as you try to concentrate on your homework.
You’d told yourself it was a mistake, that it couldn’t happen again. He was dangerous. He was Black Spiderman, the very vigilante your father – the chief of the police – had been hunting for months.
The same boy who’d saved you from a near-attack once, and who you’d later discovered wore the same mask you saw in the headlines. But it didn’t matter how many times you told yourself to stay away.
Every single thing reminds you of him, as if a part of him is always with you and within you. Like the hoodie you find yourself wearing tonight, the one he usually wears at school – the one he kindly gifted you after saving you the very first time.
But then, as always, your thoughts wandered back to that kiss. You could still feel it, the heat of his lips against yours, the quiet intensity that said so much more than words ever could.
Your heart clenches. You like him. You really like him. Especially because you know – he knows – you can’t be with him. Not with the way your father is closing in on his trail.
And now here you are, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach as you stare at your homework, as if any of this actually matters when everything in your life feels so out of control. When your heart is tethered to someone who might be the very thing that could tear it apart.
The sudden knock at the window shatters your thoughts, making you jolt in your seat. You freeze, staring at the glass, your heartbeat quickening. It’s late.
Too late for anyone but him.
You slowly rise from your desk, your legs suddenly feeling heavy as you cross the room, each step seeming to echo in the quiet room. The knock comes again, more insistent this time, and you don’t need to look to know who’s on the other side.
Your fingers hover over the window latch, hesitation gripping you, but before you can talk yourself out of it, you unlock it and pull the window open.
He stands outside, cloaked in darkness, his silhouette barely visible in the dim light. His usual confident stance is gone, replaced by something… weaker. His shoulders are hunched, one arm pressed against the wall for support as if he’s holding himself together just long enough to make it to you.
“Jay?” You whisper, your voice catching in your throat.
He looks up, his eyes meeting yours with a look that sends a jolt of panic through you. Blood stains his suit, dark and sticky, and there’s an unmistakable tension in the way he moves. He’s hurt, badly.
“I need help,” he says, voice strained and raw. His words are simple, but the desperation behind them hits you like a wave.
You blink, heart hammering in your chest, and for a moment, you just stand there, paralyzed by the sight and the twirling of emotions.
But then he takes a step closer, his hand reaching out, and you feel the weight of his gaze on you, pleading.
You step back instinctively, making space for him. He doesn’t hesitate, stepping through the window with a fluid motion, despite the evident pain in his movements. The moment he’s inside, the full extent of his injuries becomes clear – blood drips from his side, staining the edges of his torn suit, and his breathing is ragged.
You swallow hard, trying to push down the panic rising in your chest. This is wrong. This is so wrong.
But you can’t look away, not when he’s standing there in front of you, vulnerable and waiting for you to do something. “Where can I…?” His voice is barely above a whisper, soon interrupted by his panting.
“Sit,” you say, your tone sweet yet authoritative. You motion towards a small couch next to the window, where the soft light from your desk lamp casts a warm glow. His eyes flicker to it briefly, then back to you, and without a word, he moves to sit down, wincing as he does.
You take a steadying breath before going to your dresser, pulling out a first aid kit you’ve had for years, unused – until now.
As you walk back to him, your hands tremble, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders.
His gaze never leaves you as you sit next to him on the couch, failing to keep the distance. You can feel the heat of his presence, the tension between you thick and palpable.
He’s so close, too close.
Your heart hammers in your chest, your mind racing, but you force yourself to focus on treating his wound.
“You shouldn’t be here,” you murmur, though the words feel hollow, and you know they won’t stop what’s about to happen.
Jay doesn’t respond immediately. He just watches you with those intense, haunted eyes. “I had no choice,” he finally says, his voice strained. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Sunghoon?” you ask, your voice sharp with a mix of concern and confusion. You’ve seen him around, of course. Jay’s ridiculously rich friend – the one who was always lurking in the shadows, despite his social status. But you never thought much about him, not until now.
Jay flinches slightly at the mention of his name, his jaw tightening. He shifts on the couch, his hand instinctively going to the side where the blood flows, but he doesn’t seem to care much about the pain.
“He’s… busy,” Jay mutters, his tone dark, as if the words leave a bad taste in his mouth. “He’s got his own things to deal with.”
You raise an eyebrow, trying to read between the lines, but Jay doesn’t elaborate further. Instead, he seems to close off, his gaze flickering to the window as if he’s listening for something. Or maybe he’s just lost in thought, trying to process everything that led him here.
To you.
The silence stretches out, thick and uncomfortable, but you force yourself to focus. You open the first aid kit, your fingers trembling just a bit as you pull out antiseptic and bandages.
You turn to him, staring the wet patch on his dark suit. The blood seems to flow out from the lower side of his chest, making you wonder how to treat the wound effectively.
“I need you to take your suit off,” you say quietly, but it’s not a suggestion. His injuries are too severe for you to treat them through the fabric, and you don’t want to make this more awkward than it already is, but the words feel like a dare.
He hesitates for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. His eyes flicker to yours, searching for something. A sign that you’re not uncomfortable.
Finally, with a slight groan of discomfort, he shifts, peeling off the outer layers of his suit. The movement causes him to wince, his face tightening in pain as his hand hovers over the cut on his side, clearly still fighting to stay composed. But you can see the blood seeping through the fabric, sticky and dark. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of it, the severity of the injury suddenly hitting you full force.
“Careful,” you murmur, reaching out to steady him, your fingers brushing against his chest as you help him with the last of his suit. It’s all you can do to keep your hands from shaking, but the feeling of his skin under your touch sends an unfamiliar warmth rushing to your face.
Jay doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he’s too caught up in his own pain to care. He leans back against the couch, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. You keep your focus on his wounds, but you can’t help but notice how his body moves, how close you are now, your hands hovering just inches from his skin.
You reach for the antiseptic and dab a cotton ball, pressing it gently to the cut on his side. He flinches, his breath hitching in his throat, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he stares at you, those dark eyes never leaving your face.
It’s almost as if he’s studying you, trying to gauge every reaction, every breath you take.
The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver up your spine, and for a moment, it’s hard to focus on anything other than him. His sharp features seem even more defined in the soft light of your room, and you can’t help but notice how handsome he looks – even in pain.
You keep your movements steady, trying to ignore the heat between you. As you press the cotton ball against the wound again, your fingers graze his skin. He tenses, just a little, and the air feels thicker as he unconsciously lets out a groan of pain.
“I don’t know why you keep coming back here,” you murmur, your voice betraying a trace of uncertainty. The words escape before you can stop them, and you immediately regret them. You know what you’re really asking – why me?
Jay’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you now, like he’s searching for the right words. He exhales slowly, as if the weight of your question settles on his chest.
Before he can respond though, you continue. “I told you not to come back,” you say, your sweet tone contrasting the harshness of your words.
They slip out before you can stop them, but you regret them the moment they’re spoken. You don’t want to hurt him, but the fear that comes with knowing your father is still hunting him is too much to ignore. You don’t want Jay getting caught in the crossfire, and you certainly don’t want to be the one who has to face the consequences.
He doesn’t flinch at your tone, though. He just watches you, his eyes dark and intense. For a moment, you wonder if he’s angry, if your words have stung. But instead, his face softens just a little.
“Y/N…” he calls your name, his voice low, almost soothing. One of his hands reaches up, gently cupping your cold cheek. The touch is so unexpected, so tender, that it makes your breath catch in your throat.
He guides your face toward his, making sure you hold his gaze, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate motions.
“I know you’re scared,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something raw, something you haven’t heard before. “I can see it in your eyes. But pushing me away won’t make it go away.”
The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. You want to look away, to retreat into the safe distance you’ve tried to keep between you both, but something about the way he’s looking at you – vulnerable, yet unwavering – makes it impossible.
You swallow, trying to find your voice. “I don’t want you to get hurt,” you whisper, though the words feel weak even to your own ears. “I don’t want my father to–”
“I’m not scared of your father,” Jay cuts in, his tone harder now, like the weight of your concern for him is something he can’t accept. His thumb brushes a lock of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. “I’m scared of losing you.”
The words hang in the air, sharp and unexpected. You don’t know what you expected from him, but it wasn’t that.
You open your mouth to respond, but the words get caught in your throat, unable to make it past the rush of emotions crashing through you.
You try to shake it off, to remind yourself of all the reasons why you should keep your distance, but with him so close, with the heat of his hand on your cheek and the intensity in his eyes, it feels impossible to hold onto that resolve.
There’s a quiet moment where neither of you says anything, as if the world has paused and everything around you has faded into the background. His eyes, dark and intense, stay locked on yours.
You know what he’s waiting for, and the thought sends a nervous flutter through you.
You can feel the heat rising between you both, the tension building with every second. You want to look away, but you can’t. His gaze pulls you in, like a magnetic force you can’t escape.
He shifts slightly, wincing as pain shoots through his side, but he doesn’t pull back. If anything, it only brings him closer. His face is inches from yours now, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.
“I know I shouldn’t be here…” he says genuinely, as his eyes flicker to your lips and you see the desperation in them.
“But I can’t,” he continues, almost like a plea. His hand still rests on your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw in slow, deliberate strokes. “I can’t stay away from you.”
His voice breaks slightly on the last words, the vulnerability in his tone making your heart ache. You want to tell him to stop, to pull away before things go too far – but you can’t find the words.
You’re dangerously close now. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, the ragged rise and fall of his chest as his breathing quickens. The wound on his side doesn’t seem to matter anymore, not with how much he needs you in this moment. How much you need him.
His eyes flicker between yours, and the intensity in his gaze only makes it harder to breathe.
“Jay…” The word slips out of your mouth, but it’s soft, uncertain.
He doesn’t let you finish. His face leans in, and for a split second, you think he’s going to kiss you – but then, he stops, just a breath away, as if waiting for permission.
You want him, you want him so much, but you don’t know if you can let go of everything else. You don’t know if you can give him the power to tear down all the walls you’ve built around your heart, especially when you know what’s at stake.
But as his hand slides from your cheek to your exposed neck, your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, it's as if nothing else matters but the heat of his touch.
Jay's face inches closer, his lips so near that you can feel the warmth of them without even touching. His eyes search yours, dark and full of something raw, something that makes your heart pound.
“I don't want to hurt you,” he says, the words soft but heavy, like a confession. It feels more vulnerable than anything he's said, as if he's revealing a part of himself he's never shown anyone before. “But I don't think I can stop myself anymore.”
You feel your pulse quicken, the tension between you almost unbearable now. And even though every rational part of you know this is dangerous, you find yourself leaning into him.
He knows this will hurt you.
He knows he will hurt himself too.
But he doesn’t care as he’s so close to what his heart desires.
The world outside your room feels so far away now, a distant memory as your senses sharpen to every little detail. The way his hand grips your neck just slightly, the heat of his body, the way his gaze never wavers from yours, hungry and desperate.
And then, finally, Jay closes the distance.
His lips meet yours in a kiss that's soft at first, tentative, like he's waiting for you to pull back.
But you don't.
Instead, you let yourself melt into it, the heat of his kiss flooding you with everything you've been holding back.
His hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer, and you feel the desperation in his movements, the way he can’t hold himself back.
He deepens the kiss, his lips urgent now, as if he can't get enough of you, as if he needs you more than anything. You let him, giving in to the feeling you tried so long to dismiss.
You're not sure how much time passes, how long the kiss lingers, but when you finally break away, your breath is ragged, your chest heaving. Jay rests his forehead against shoulder, panting heavily as you try to back away but his hand holds you by the neck gently.
“Don't make me leave,” he whispers, his voice hoarse, his warmth breath hitting your neck. “Please.”
For a moment, you close your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions crashing through you. You know the dangers. You know this is reckless. But looking at him, feeling him so close, you know you're not ready to let him go, either.
You want to say something – tell him he can’t stay.
That this can't happen. But the words don't come. Instead, you close the space between you once more, your lips finding his again. It's not gentle this time; it's hungry, messy, as if both of you are trying to make up for lost time, for all the moments you've spent pushing each other away.
Jay's hands find your hair, tugging you even closer, as if he can't get enough of you. He tilts your head back slightly, deepening the kiss, and you melt into him, feeling the ache in your chest grow stronger the longer you stay like this. The feeling of his lips, his body, his presence – it's overwhelming, intoxicating.
You pull away for a brief moment, gasping for air, but Jay's forehead presses against your forehead this time. His eyes are dark, pupils dilated, and he's breathing as heavily as you are, his chest rising and falling with each shaky inhale.
Without thinking, you shift, your hands pressing against his chest as you straddle him, feeling the heat of his body beneath you.
The action is bold, unexpected, but it feels like the only thing that makes sense right now. His breath hitches as you settle on top of him, his hands instinctively resting on your hips, pulling you closer, his fingers digging into the fabric of your hoodie as if he's trying to hold onto you, to keep you from slipping away.
His lips hover near yours, but he doesn't kiss you just yet. Instead, his gaze flickers from your lips to your eyes, his expression a mix of desire and restraint. He's holding himself back, just barely.
“I don't know how to stop,” he admits, his voice hoarse, vulnerable. His hands trace the sides of your waist, slowly, as if he's memorizing the shape of you, the feel of your skin. “Every time I try, you make it harder.”
You swallow, trying to steady your breath, your heart hammering in your chest. His touch is electric, sparking through every inch of your body, leaving trails of warmth in its wake.
You lean in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “Then don't stop.”
His breath catches in his throat, and the tension between you both snaps. His hands tighten on your hips, and without another word, he pulls you closer, closing the small space between you, kissing you again – this time it's desperate, urgent, like he's been starved for it.
You respond in kind, your hands threading into his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss, feeling the weight of everything fall away. It's just the two of you now, tangled up in each other, lost in the heat of the moment. There's no thinking, no consequences, only the pressure building between you with every kiss, every touch.
Jay's hands move to the hem of your hoodie, his fingers brushing against your skin as he lifts it slightly, his touch light but eager.
Your body hums with anticipation as his calloused hands graze your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine. You arch into his touch, craving more. With deliberate slowness, you begin to grind your hips against his, the friction of his suit against your clothed cunt igniting a fire within you.
The fabric of his costume rubs tantalizingly against your core, each subtle movement heightening the pleasure. You bite back a moan, not wanting to break the heated kiss. Instead, you deepen it, playing with his tongue while your hips continue their sinuous movements.
“Fuck,” Jay groans against your lips, his voice strained with barely restrained desire. The sound sends a thrill through you, fueling your movements as you grind harder against him. His hands grip your waist tighter, guiding your motions, urging you on.
Your breaths mingle hot and heavy between kisses, the air thick with the scent of arousal. Jay's fingers trail higher up your back, slipping beneath the fabric of your hoodie to caress the sensitive skin there. Each brush of his fingertips against your flesh ignites new waves of pleasure, making you ache for more.
“God, you feel so good,” he pants, breaking the kiss momentarily to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His teeth graze your pulse point before he soothes the sting with his tongue, drawing a shudder from your lips. “I can't get enough of you.”
Despite the haze of lust clouding your senses, you can't help but remember the wound on Jay's chest. A pang of guilt pierces through the pleasure as you realize how reckless you're being.
“Jay…” you whisper against his lips, trying to pull away slightly. But he tightens his hold around you, keeping you close.
“Don't worry about me, baby,” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses along your jawline. His hands travel lower, sliding beneath your pyjamas shorts to cup your ass. He gives it a gentle squeeze, eliciting a whimper from you.
“But... your wound–” you start to argue, only for Jay to silence you with another searing kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, tasting every inch of its warmth before retreating just as abruptly. He breaks off the kiss only when he needs to catch his breath.
“You're driving me crazy,” he growls out, his voice hoarse with pent-up desire. His hand moves from your ass to the front of your shorts, tracing over the damp spot where your arousal has soaked through the fabric.
Despite your protests, you don't make any move to stop him. Instead, you arch into his touch, silently begging for more. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest, echoing the rhythm of Jay's fingers against the fabric of your shorts.
“I'm fine,” he reassures you again, leaning in to capture your lips once again in a bruising kiss. As if to prove his point, he slides one finger underneath the elastic band of your shorts before hesitating briefly.
Feeling bold, you press your hips further onto his hand, encouraging him to go further. Your breath hitches in anticipation as his finger finally slips inside your shorts, grazing the edge of your panties.
“Mhmmm…” you moan softly into his ear, biting down lightly on his lobe. The sensation of his touch combined with the words he whispers in response send shivers down your spine.
As you press into his touch, Jay lets out a low chuckle, his free hand moving to the small of your back to steady you. His fingers trace circles on your skin, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.
“I can feel how wet you are, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, a smirk tingeing his words. His finger dips lower, skimming across your clit before retreating. He does it again, this time lingering longer as he teases the swollen bud.
The heat between your thighs intensifies, making you squirm restlessly atop him. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you struggle to maintain control.
You whimper softly at the sensation of his finger circling your clit, your hips twitching involuntarily. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to spill from your lips.
With a husky chuckle, Jay guides your hand to the bulge straining against his suit. He grinds into your palm, a low groan rumbling deep in his chest.
“Do that to me,” he orders, his eyes dark with lust. “Touch me like I'm touching you.” His finger continues its tantalising movements on your clit, circling faster now at your responsive whimpers.
You let your hand wander lower, finding the hard length straining against the fabric of his suit. You give a tentative squeeze, testing the water before moving your hand up and down in slow strokes.
You blush at his hardness, almost in awe as you realise you made him that hard.
“Oh fuck yes,” Jay groans out, his head falling back as you work his length through the fabric of his suit. The friction of your hand against him sends jolts of pleasure straight to his already throbbing cock.
He matches your movements, grinding his finger against your clit in time with your strokes. “Just like that,” he encourages, his breathing ragged.
As your bodies move together in sync, a wave of pleasure washes over you. Your breaths come out in short gasps, and you can't help but let out a series of needy whimpers.
“J-Jay...” you stutter out, struggling to form coherent sentences. His touch is driving you wild, alongside the feeling of his hard erection on your hand.
At your stuttered plea, Jay smirks against your lips before pulling away slightly. His eyes are dark with desire as they roam over your flushed face.
“Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he commands huskily, tracing idle patterns on your skin with his fingertip. “Say it, baby.”
The demand hangs heavily between you, the anticipation making your heart pound even harder in your chest.
You swallow, your breath shaky as you prepare to answer, to finally let go and admit what you've both been holding back for so long.
But just as you part your lips to speak, the unmistakable sound of footsteps reaches your ears – the heavy, familiar rhythm of your father's approach.
You freeze, your body tensing, the air between you and Jay instantly shifting. His eyes widen slightly, his smirk fading as the sound registers with him too.
“Shit, is that...” he whispers, the question hanging in the air as he pulls his hands away, already on high alert.
You nod, barely able to breathe. “He's home,” you murmur, panic creeping into your voice.
Jay doesn't waste a second. He's already moving, pulling himself up from the couch, every trace of desire replaced by urgency. He glances around, assessing his options, looking for a quick escape.
He puts his suit back into place with swift, practiced motions, the intensity in his gaze replaced with the careful composure of Spiderman. He stops, though, as he reaches for the window, turning back to look at you one last time, his eyes softening.
“I’ll be back,” he promises, his voice low and full of something unspoken. However, he can’t find himself from leaving you as you look at him with your kind, doe eyes, as if you’re silently telling him not to go.
He launches himself to you, not giving you time to process what’s going on as he gives you one last passionate kiss.
“Take care, my sweet Y/N.”
You give him an honest smile, bringing a hand to his cheek, your thumb tracing the scar carved from a previous battle.
“You too, Spiderman.”
Then, with one last lingering look, he slips out the window, disappearing into the night just as quickly as he came, leaving you alone with the echo of his presence and the pounding of your heart.
Just as you close the window and turn around, your father's voice calls out from down the hall.
"Y/N? You're still up?"
You take a steadying breath, hoping he won't notice the lingering flush on your cheeks or the slight tremor in your voice.
You quickly compose yourself, taking another deep breath before you answer. “Yeah, just finishing up some homework, Dad.” You force your voice to sound steady, casual, but your pulse still races from what just happened.
Your father’s footsteps come closer, and he enters the room, his tired eyes scanning you briefly before he sighs, rubbing his face with one hand. “You should get some rest. You’ve been up late every night this week.”
You nod, but your gaze lingers on him for a moment longer, as if you can sense that something is off.
“Long day for you too, Dad?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze shifting to the wall as he rubs his temples. You notice how tired he looks, the weariness settling deeper into his features than usual. For a moment, the weight of the world seems to hang on his shoulders.
Finally, he exhales and drops his hand.
“Yeah, you could say that.”
You pause, a small knot forming in your stomach. You know what’s been eating at him for months now, and despite everything you’ve tried to bury, the question slips out before you can stop it.
“Is it about Spiderman?” Your voice is low, tentative as your heart races as soon as the words leave your mouth.
He looks up at you sharply, the sudden tension in his body making you regret asking. But then his shoulders relax just slightly, and he lets out a heavy sigh, the frustration clear in his eyes.
“Yeah, Y/N. It’s about him,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m getting close, I can feel it. I just… I need one break, one damn mistake from him.”
You force yourself to meet your dad’s eyes, trying to push away the fear gnawing at you. “Do you really think he’ll slip up?”
Your dad’s eyes harden, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I have to believe it. He’s too careful, too smart, but everyone makes a mistake eventually.” He pauses, his expression softening just a little. “I just need to be there when it happens.”
Your stomach turns at the thought. You know your father won’t stop. He’s not going to give up until he’s found him.
“Dad, don’t you think… maybe you should just let it go?” The words feel strange on your tongue, but you push them out anyway. “You’re getting too close to the edge.”
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t get it. This isn’t about being close, or right, or anything. This is about making sure he can’t hurt anyone else.” His jaw clenches, the lines around his face deepening. “This is about keeping you safe, Y/N.”
You nod, feeling the weight of his words, but the knot in your stomach tightens. You want to tell him the truth, to confess that the man he’s hunting is the same one who makes your heart race, the one who was about to claim you, the one who’s too close to your heart for comfort.
But you can’t. You can’t betray him. Not when you know the consequences.
“I know, Dad. I trust you.”
He seems to relax at your words, his shoulders loosening just slightly, but you can feel the underlying tension still hanging between you. You wonder if he can sense that something’s off, but he doesn’t press further.
“Get some rest, okay?” he says, his tone softer now. “I know you think he’s some kind of superhero. But superheroes don’t exist in our world so don’t worry your sweet little head about him, alright?” His gentle voice trails off, betraying the hatred he actually feels.
You watch him leave, the door clicking softly behind him, and a deep breath escapes you as you sit back on the bed. Your hands tremble slightly, the weight of your promise to your father sinking in as you look out the window, hoping for a glimpse of Jay, but knowing he’s gone.
The city below is alive with its own noise, its own chaos, but all you can hear is the deafening silence of the truth that keeps pulling you in two different directions.
But a part of you knows.
That no matter how much you try to stay away, you’ll always be drawn back to him.
Requested by anonymous via tumblr: cam boy jake. That’s it.Jake is your college roommate and he needs to buy a camera for his online classes. Curiosity gets the better of him, leading to a lot of extra money and, well, finding out that you’ve been a little too curious about what he's doing.
Or the one where your roommate flaunts his secret job at you, not thinking you’d go out and search for him. And definitely not thinking you’d be getting off to him either.
MDNI
WORDCOUNT― 4.9k
PAIRING― cam boy jake x afab reader
CONTENT― college setting but it’s mosting within the apartment they share, cam boy jake, confused best friend reader, smut
WARNINGS― none but brief mention of mommy kink in passing
NOTE―this isn't proof read ;o;
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Seven hundred.”
“What?”
“That’s how much I made last night,” Jake’s eyes shine brighter and brighter with each word, a crooked smile plastered across his face as he sleepily blinks. “I didn’t even have to do anything weird either.”
You pause as you sip your morning coffee, wrapped up in a blanket and head pounding at the amount of stress and work you’ve had to get done while he was too busy playing with himself on camera for dozens of people. Or maybe hundreds. Thousands?
“What did you do then?” You raise a brow, not entirely checked in on his boasting this morning, though it is impressive.
Jake always shares how much he makes after each session. What started with fifteen dollars is now reaching seven hundred. Surely your best friend isn’t just jerking off, right?
“Well, it was a little weird, but not that bad.” He avoids the question with a vague answer, suddenly feeling his face heat up. “Just a little here and there, y’know?”
You narrow your eyes instantly. So he does do weird shit for money! You knew it! No way could someone make that much money in such a short span of time by regular jerking off.
“Just a little what?” You stare him down, now placing your coffee on the table and leaning towards him. He knows better than anyone that you, of all people, can point out if he lies. Meaning, he has to be honest.
And so, he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant about it.
“Mommy.” He says it like he’s saying any other word, as if he’s uncaring, as if it was worth the money. “Just had to say it a few times and the money came pouring in.”
Your eyes narrow at him even more.
“What else?” You question. “There’s no way they’d accept it unless you…”
He raises his brow at you now, tilting his head in cheeky curiosity.
“Unless I cried? Edged? Let them torture me a little bit?” He smiles. “Yeah, I know.”
You’re a bit shocked, the images of what that must have looked like for his viewers forcing your curiosity to grow. His smug face looking back at you now serves as proof that he very well may be into that kind of thing. Almost like he’s sharing a kink with you, which…is not something the two of you do.
Despite being roommates, and without any mention of how long you’ve been friends, sex has never been a topic until he started this whole camboy thing.
You remain calm though. This is Jake you’re talking to. He’s the last person you want to see drooling and cumming all over himself.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Okay so, you’re a liar.
All day, all fucking day you’ve thought about it. It’s not that you’re into the kink, or even that you’re into Jake. You’re just…curious about how smug he is about it. And yeah, it’s probably just a huge confidence boost to have all sorts of people rubbing one out to you while paying your bills, but still.
You’re only a liar because that so-called confidence makes him more open about it. More loud. More comfortable. More…horny?
You can tell by now, weeks after he started. You could never hear a peep from his bedroom, not a single moan or sigh at first. Now though, he’s only gotten louder. You hear the moans, the dirty talk into his camera, the usernames, all of it.
“Thank you–mmf– cumslut2000.”
God, you hate that you didn’t cringe hearing him say that. It was the moan mid-sentence maybe, or the sultry tone you’ve never heard from him until now. You can’t help but squeeze your legs together with an annoyed groan, practically leaping for your headphones shortly after because, absolutely the fuck not.
Not Jake. It’s too weird.
And the days pass like that, casual with him as he discusses his pay where you no longer question because now you’d just think too hard about the details. The nights pass like that too, where he’s louder, louder, louder, until you can almost hear him through your muffled videos and playlists.
Until you are forced to feel the arousal just like the rest of his viewers. You can’t escape the attraction despite wishing, hoping, fucking praying for your head to stop wanting to hear more.
You know better than anyone though, hoping and praying does nothing for you and the only thing that will help this situation between your legs is seeing. Proving to yourself, so to say, that seeing Jake act like that will feel gross. It will turn you off. It will solidify that Jake is your best friend and your roommate, nothing more.
It’s easy to find him too. All you had to do was abandon your headphones tonight, waiting for him to introduce himself via username to his stream.
Doggystyle02.
That’s what he picked? He can’t be fucking serious.
You’re excited as you google the username, enabling NSFW search and finding him within seconds. Excited to lose the interest that’s driving you up a fucking wall, that is. And before you click into his stream, you inspect.
Yeah, that’s definitely his abs oiled up in his profile picture. You choose to ignore his uh…thing under his sweats, heavy, leaving a little spot on the front of them.
Oh, 23k followers? And he started two, maybe three months ago? People want Jake that badly? And you just…live here with him? You get to see him daily, and hear him playing all these kinky roles in real life? God, you just know if the viewers knew they’d be saying shit like “If i lived with you, I’d be on that cock every day.” Blah, blah, blah.
They don’t know Jake like you know him. He’s just a dude, not some sex god.
Then…something in your gut stirs. It flips, it bubbles, your face warms up. The comments on his profile asking him all sorts of things, saying all sorts of things and he just…responds? Reciprocates?
Cumslut2000 comments: god i want you to hold me down and make me take it
Doggystyle02: Don’t sweet talk me like that, you know how I get.
Oh, does she now? How the fuck would she know anything about Jake. Your best friend. Your roommate.
DPlover: can we plllleeease do another private show?
Doggystyle02: book me for later, i’ll even give you a discount <3
Another private show?! A fucking discount?!
Blushy: im too shy to talk when you’re online but i really, really want you.
Doggystyle02: you wanna talk in private? I’ll message you and bring you right out of that shell. let me take care of you baby
You’re speechless. During his private job, where he doesn’t share his name but he shows his fucking face, he publicly talks to people like this? He’s never so much as looked at you for too long after you’ve gotten out of the shower, yet he wants to take care of a fucking loser ass bitch who is too shy to talk to him?
Sexually?!
Safe to say, never in your life did you ever think you’d find yourself jealous of people who get Jake’s attention. To you, he’s always just been, well, Jake. The guy who ran up your apartment stairs on all fours the day you moved in, the boy who constantly did your homework for you in highschool because he knew you wouldn’t graduate with him if he didn’t, the absolute best friend who followed you to the same college, saved you from the dorms by becoming your roommate, and now…somehow, seems…more than just what he was before.
Surely you’re just horny though. Curious, in the mood, whatever. Anyone would be when there’s a porn set just a wall over, right?
You shake your thoughts, knowing you’ll just make yourself sick if you keep reading all of his little public comments and start wondering what he says in private to them. You scroll up instead, glancing at his abs again before your eyes land directly on what you were trying so hard to avoid.
He’s kind of packing, you can’t lie. If he wasn’t Jake, you’d probably be ogling, rubbing out to him just like everyone else. Hah. You chuckle, shaking your head at your own stupidity, ready for these weird feelings to be eradicated the second you click into his stream.
Except…jesus fucking christ.
The comments roll in faster than you can read. The money is pouring in, and he’s sitting there on camera with that same dopey grin he gives you every morning. There’s something else with his smile though, a little lip bite, some tongue darting action to wet his lips. Hair falling into his eyes…jesus.
After a minute or two of staring at your best friend’s face, ignoring the movement of his shoulders attached to the hand that’s…doing something, a pop up covers his image entirely.
SIGN UP OR LOG IN TO CONTINUE WATCHING…
Never in your life have you signed up for something so fast, typing in a string of cute letters and numbers to differentiate yourself in the sea of horny viewers. And then his image is back, and your eyes trail straight down.
Instantly you choke up, watching the way he uses his hands with that expression on his face. It really is just typical jerking off but…something about it. Something about the way he flicks his own nipples with a seething lip bite, bucking his hips up before shining his pouting eyes into the camera, as if wishing any or all viewers were there to do it for him. And god, the way he looks kind of wet? Like, oiled up or lotion, maybe lubed up, you don’t know. His hips slide that thing through his fist so easily, making squelching sounds all the while.
That’s…that’s really him. And he’s not even ten feet from your bedroom door looking like this. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to get up and interrupt him.
What would you even do? What would you say?
So, you just watch, completely forgetting that you were doing this to get rid of the curiosity, not feed into the sexuality of a man you’ve known for so long as nothing more than your closest friend.
Over a thousand dollars made in just one stream by the time he logs off, and those moans echo in your brain. Hearing them so clearly through your headphones just…wow. And, well, you did your best.
You swore you’d never get off to the image of Jake after all this curiosity started, it’s just, you can’t help it now. At least he wasn't on your screen, moaning and whimpering for all the faceless people watching. You waited. Your belly burned and your clit throbbed through all of it, and only when he made a mess of himself with that same fucking smile before logging off did you finally give yourself what you needed.
You don’t know why you did that, and you don’t know why the muffled stream of his shower just down the hallways is what sticks in your head when you finally reach your own orgasm.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Over a thousand this time.”
“Oh?” You awkwardly avoid his eye contact, stiffening your shoulders at the mere mention of his stream from last night.
“Yeah, not sure why they gave me so much this time though…” He trails off briefly, inspecting your posture and sudden defensive stance. “I didn’t even do any of the kinks.”
Well…you know why he made that much. He wouldn’t even need to feed the fetish crowd to make a decent living off of this, not with a face like that, a cock like that. It’s only natural he starts making more and more with each lengthy stream.
“Yeah, that’s weird.” You answer shortly, rummaging through cabinets despite your lunch sitting on the table across from him.
“Yeah…” He notes the shift, feeling tension in the air. “Are you okay?”
“What? Me?” You ground both feet on the floor now, abandoning the cabinet as you turn towards him and look to the floor.
You can’t do it. You can’t look at him.
“I’m perfectly fine, what gives you that idea?”
You hear him stand from the table, taking his usual Jake-esque strides toward you. Then, he leans forward and tilts his head, chasing your eyes with his own and forcing you to look at him.
“Well, you haven’t even looked at me all morning,” He smiles, tapping your chin. “Was I too loud or something? Did it make you feel awkward?”
Oh, an out! An excuse!
“No, no, I just –”
Now, why the fuck did you say no? Why are you looking at him now, stopping mid-sentence entirely stunned because, yep, that’s him alright. You saw him cum. You watched him do it, you listened, and you fucking liked it.
And now you’re looking him in the face, and he’s giving you that same smile, and you’re…oh god.
“I–”
He tilts his head again, blinking twice before narrowing his eyes.
“Spit it out. What happened? Jay do something?”
Your words are caught in your throat, cheeks hot, stomach doing flips…Your eyes glance down without intention, right to his groin and he sees it. He even pulls back a bit, looking surprised before softening his expression.
“Don’t tell me you–” His voice is softer now too, but he calls out your name. “Why are you being so weird?”
You can tell he doesn’t want to make the assumption, and arguably, you’re bad at hiding things from him.
“I kind of, like, accidentally saw your stream last night.” You say it so fast, avoiding eye contact again by embarrassingly staring right between his legs. “It feels weird now.”
He laughs. He fucking laughs, but it’s kind of like, a smug laugh? A chuckle?
“Oh now it’s weird?” He rolls his eyes. “Relax, it’s not weird.”
“It is though! You’re, well, you! I didn’t need to see that!”
“Then why’d you watch?” He smirks, reaching a hand out to tilt your chin up at him again. And he’s done this many times in the past. Platonic, lovely little touches from someone who will protect and appreciate you. This though, this is…
“Go on. Tell me. Why is it weird now?” He encourages you to admit it. “Because you liked it?”
You remain silent, unwilling to answer.
“I grossed you out?”
“No!” An immediate disagreement there, one that only digs your hole deeper. “I just–didn’t expect that.”
“So you did watch it.” He leans back now, crossing his arms and staring you down. “Did you enjoy yourself?
What is he fucking asking right now? The worst part about this is if you don’t answer, it’s still a fucking answer. But you don’t want to like, lie, because already you couldn’t even make it through a fucking morning with him after seeing it. So, with the smallest voice you have, so small you hope he can’t hear it, you whisper.
“Yes.”
And if you were to look him in the face right now, you’d have seen that smug look go to curiosity. You’d have seen the split second of his adoration for you merging with a new view, a new feeling, and possibly a new need.
“Wait, did you–?” He even feels a bit shy now, his ears practically on fire as he keeps his eye on you, and the way you curl in on yourself with the admittance. “Did you..touch yourself?”
A small nod, you squeeze your eyes shut.
Then you hear him hold his breath, taking a step back from you. You’ve touched yourself to him, he can’t believe it. After all these years, never once looking at him like that…not even he looked at you like that but now?
He pictures it. The way you must’ve been in your room all alone, knowing what he’s doing, searching him up, then confirming it for yourself. You liked it. You liked what you saw and you got off to it.
And now he can’t stop smiling. Proud, he feels proud.
“Well, don’t feel weird.” He finally says, trying to ease your discomfort. “It’s just…a normal thing. I don’t think you’re weird.”
With that, the conversation dies, fades entirely into awkwardness as you both split off.
You need space to think.
He needs space to think.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’re doing it again, as if just this morning you didn’t have to bury yourself 6 feet under right in front of him.
Neither of you spoke after that. Avoiding each other consistently throughout the day with knowing, growing, and exhausting tension. Yet still, he’s started his stream, and here you are, watching it with a dazed look.
You don’t know how to feel or what to do. Your head doesn’t anyway, your body knows too well what it wants and needs, and you hate yourself for making it so awkward between the two of you. Why did you tell him? You wonder if he’d be uncomfortable knowing you’re watching again, this time knowing your hand will stray as you watch.
You wonder, and wonder, will he think you’re disrespecting your friendship by doing this not once, but twice?
Then, you hear him.
“Can we do some roleplay today?” He speaks out to the chat, cock pressing against his briefs, head tilted with his messy hair in the very computer chair you bought for him.
Last time, he was sprawled out on his bed, and you wonder if he always starts his streams this way.
“I want you to imagine we live together, and you know I’m in my room fucking myself, begging, needy for anything, anyone to touch me.” He looks into the camera. “Let’s say you’d hear it too. I’m loud on purpose…”
“Tell me what you’d do to me.”
You stare forward blankly, frozen on the spot at his words, then your eyes flick to the chat.
“You wouldn’t see the front door ever again.”
“I’d be on you within seconds.”
“You wouldn’t even be able to turn your camera on, just come home and I'd be waiting.”
Oh.
Jake hums at the responses, whispering them to himself.
“Ah,” Jake reads a specific comment with a nod. “I’d be an idiot to not jump at the opportunity.”
And the rest of his words become muffled as your ears pop. Is he…talking about you right now? Was he expecting you to watch again?
“If that ever happens to me, just know I’d be grateful for all of you. Running to help me feel good, you’re all so good to me.” He giggles now. Fucking giggles. “Alright, enough of that.”
Jake stares into the camera again, and you can’t help it. It feels like he’s staring at you. Straight through your fucking soul at this point.
“I have a lot of stress to relieve.” He ends on that note, skewing his pants down and making haste.
He’s not slow or cute with it like he was before. He’s aggressive, almost frustrated. His eyebrows furrow, his lips become red from his biting and chewing, and you watch the money flood in.
The comments blurring past, words of, “Oh fuck,” and “This is new.” before suddenly, you hear an irritated sigh. A string of curse words pour from his lips, his hand squeezing the base of his cock so tightly, and spurts of cum shooting up his chest, only to drip down slowly.
“What a waste.” He comments shortly at himself, heaving in a breath before he breaks out into his usual smile. “Sorry to end on such a short note, just thought I’d let you guys join me for a quickie!”
Then he’s gone, the stream lasting about ten minutes in total.
And apparently so is your fucking sanity because why is it that now you find yourself getting out of your bed, feeling the wet between your legs drip, and you’re heading for your bedroom door just to get to him?
Why is he standing right outside, as if he was already waiting for you to open it?
And it’s silent now as you stare at each other. Him, with his sweatpants skewed over his waist, cum still on his chest, breath still uneven. Then you, practically vibrating to get on him.
“You’re looking at me like you want me to eat you out.” He says, already pushing you right back through your bedroom door, letting you flop back on your bed as he instantly pulls at your shorts. “Want me to kiss you first?”
You feel your head spin the second you flop back and feel your shorts being pulled off, and before you can even comprehend his question, he’s already kissing you. Hot, heated. He sounds just as frustrated as he did just minutes ago getting off by himself. You don’t even mind the cum on his chest, nor the way he spreads your legs with his knee to get more comfortable.
It’s happening. This is what kissing Jake feels like. This is what everyone wants from him, but it’s you that’s getting it. Has he always been like this? Good at kissing? Firm with his movements? Confident as he kisses down, down, down, giving you what he thinks you want?
You do want it. Perhaps you were looking at him like you wanted him to eat you out, and now he’s doing it. Breathing shortly right against your clit without so much as savoring his view before diving in, tongue instantly licking from your hole straight to your clit and sucking.
He hums around the taste, both hands holding your inner thighs and keeping your legs open. And he just…keeps humming, licking and sucking you so good that you can’t help but cry out and tug at that fucked up mess of hair on his head.
Jake likes that. He likes the way you hold your breath and the way your legs shake around his ears. He likes even more the way he knew you were watching him tonight, and that you looked like you were coming straight to his room to jump him.
So strange how quickly things can change, so strange how good his best friend must have tasted all these years, and he had never once considered it. And now, he blinks up at you, seeing the way you close your eyes and breathe through it, like you’re calming yourself down, thinking both too much and not at all.
Easily he runs his hands up and under your shirt, feeling the soft skin of your belly before gently running his palms over your perked nipples. He continues to stare up, watching you, tasting you, loving this a little more than he ever knew he would.
He did want you, he does want you. His cock has been aching all day for you since the moment he found out you thought of him. Jake thinks you’d be tight, because lord knows you haven’t gotten laid in a hot minute, and that quick jerk off session was absolutely for you.
He wants to show off to you, wants you to see him more than anyone else can. Yet, it’s you he’s seeing more of right now and he doesn’t mind that so much.
His eyes flick back down, allowing his fingertips to toy gently with your nipples as he skews his head, essentially making out with your pussy, slurping the slick you offer and not letting a single bit of it go to waste. Then, he dips in, pointing his tongue right against your pulsing hole and pressing in.
There’s that tug of his hair again, your legs squeezing around him and your hips bucking up.
Oh, you like that.
So, he does it harder and with more focus. He squeezes his eyes shut and prepares to not breathe for a bit, licking as far into you as he can, his nose easily pressing your clit in such a beautiful way that all you can do now is moan.
Genuinely moan for him. His name in a little hiccup followed by a curse.
Fuck, you’re so hot to him right now. Anyone would be fucking lucky to be in your bed at all, and finally it’s him. As if he’s been waiting for years despite never needing a turn previously.
And this continues until he can’t breathe, his fingers growing more needy against your tits, his tongue reaching deeply before pulling out and allowing him to take a deep breath that is scented entirely in you. Then, he fucking nuzzles it.
You glance down with a heaved breath, legs shaking as you watch him do it. Eyes closed gently, rubbing his nose and lips against your clit in such a gentle, loving way that it has you melting instantly.
“Jake–” You whisper in a breath, the first word you’ve said to him since you opened your bedroom door.
All he does is shoot his gaze to you and continues his nuzzles, uncaring of whatever you need to say if it isn’t you asking him to fuck you right now. And arguable, you have nothing to say anyway.
You just…needed to say his name. Needed to solidify that you just broke a boundary with him willingly, and he doesn’t care. You don’t care.
You feel the thumping in your chest, your clit throbbing with each little rub he lends before you sit up slightly on your elbows, balancing yourself before reaching a hand down.
He leans into your palm on his cheek, like a puppy wanting love. Then his hands leave your chest and find their way to your hips. His doe eyes instantly sharpen, and you’re instantly being pushed back down to your bed.
“Want me to be whatever you want? Let you do whatever you want to me?” He finally says, licking his lips as he makes his way up to hover over you, making sure to lift your shirt enough to expose both of your tits. “Just like I ask?”
You find yourself nodding before taking it back, shaking your head.
“I don’t want it to be like that–” You trail off, avoiding his intense gaze and suddenly feeling very vulnerable under him. “I just want you. The Jake I’ve always had.”
Another shocked look reaches his expression. He’s a bit surprised, assuming that all of this was simply because you watched his stream and didn’t expect to be so turned on. He thought this would be a one and done thing. A “let’s forget this ever happened,” thing.
But you want him? Not the acting? Not the kinks, or the cocky grinning? You want the best friend in him, the part of him that was never sexual, never confident, never willing to approach women.
He looks at you in question.
“I don’t know how to be that right now.” He finally says, pressing his hips down and against you with a choked moan. “How can I be that when I want to fuck you so badly?”
You find yourself smiling, running your hands through his hair to get it out of his face before shrugging.
“When have we ever known what we were doing?” You ask quietly, wincing slightly at how hard he’s gotten, knowing that you’re not having to see him through a screen now.
That’s all he needed to hear before keeping eye contact and reaching down with one hand. You can’t bare to look down, knowing some sort of embarrassing sound will leave your throat. You decide to feel it instead.
And goddamn, do you fucking feel it.
He slides in easily, but the size of him stretches you far past anything you could have imagined. This is him, he’s this big. This is what Jake’s cock feels like and it has your chest caving in over it.
All you can do is hug him, clinging to him through the stretch and hoping the way your cunt squeezes around him isn’t hurting him.
“God, fuck.” He says in a quick whisper, arms shaking to hold himself up as you hug him. “You’re so tight, fuck.”
You smile against his messy chest at the compliment, basking in it really before allowing yourself to freely adjust. Your body clenches him tightly, and he remains still through it until he can’t anymore.
He drops to the bed, flush against you without warning and the moans start pouring from his chest. He can’t stop even if he wanted to, can’t control his hips, his words, his thoughts.
He just lays here flush against you, letting his hips move freely and rapidly. In, out, in, out. So clumsy, so loud, and goddamn does it feel fucking amazing.
You moan alongside him, petting his hair with each thrust, feeling his cheek against your tits move with each drop of his jaw. Even when his moans are silent, you know he feels good and that makes you happy.
None of those little bitches in his chat could get him like this, surely. He’s not acting right now. He’s Jake.
And that’s what makes it so good, you think. That’s why he has so much cum to put in you, apologizing through it all because the fear of this act comes with the orgasm. Apologizing for fucking you, for cumming in you, for getting off so quickly, promising you that he’ll make you cum too.
It’s then that you realize, when he’s got his face back down between your legs, sucking his mess out of you…maybe you have feelings now.
And maybe that’s not such a bad thing either.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
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Ever since he was a kid, he would fixate on something (or someone) until it became his or until he grew sick of it. His parents had brushed it off as a normal alpha disposition. They claimed he was territorial like any other alpha, so there was nothing to really worry about. Even back then, Heeseung knew that obsessive was a better word to describe him. Either way, because of this enabling, he never tried to correct his behavior despite knowing it wasn’t entirely normal.
As the years passed, Heeseung was able to control himself better (for the most part). After college, nothing really grabbed his attention the way it used to, and he mistakenly thought it was because he had finally grown out of his obsessive tendencies.
That undesirable part of him lay dormant for so long that he was able to lead a normal life. He even found a nice beta to settle down with. She was older than him and willing to placate him in every way. Even though Heeseung didn’t love her, she gave her entire heart to him. His selfishness allowed him to accept everything she was willing to give him, and he never once felt bad about it. After all, his wife wanted nothing more than to support him and make him a better man. Which she sort of did. At some point, Heeseung was convinced that he was slowly shedding the obsessive part of his personality completely thanks to his wife.
That illusion shattered the moment he met his wife’s daughter.
Heeseung always knew his wife had a daughter that was in college because she told him about you on their second date. Honestly, he’d put the information in the back of his mind because his wife made it clear that you had your own life and weren’t all that interested in hers. According to her, you deviated from the typical omega because you weren’t affectionate or clingy. She made the offhand comment that your unnatural disposition is the reason you haven’t gone through your first heat despite being well past the age for it.
Even though he thought that was beyond strange, he didn’t care enough to ask more. After all, he would probably only ever see you a few times a year.
It’s a hot summer day when Heeseung meets you. His wife isn’t all that thrilled about you coming over, but apparently you need to get something from her that can’t wait for another time. There are no secrets in his marriage, but for the first time ever, his loving wife refuses to tell him what it is that you need so badly.
Heeseung comes downstairs when he hears his wife open the door. Her greeting is unenthusiastic, and he manages to catch the tail end of an awkward hug. At first he thinks it’s because of your supposed aversion to affection, but when he watches his wife shove a small bag in your hands like it’s some big inconvenience, he thinks maybe you’re not the problem.
Once he gets closer, he’s hit with an unnaturally sweet scent at full force. It’s mouth-watering and dizzying in the best way. The beast inside him wants nothing more than to bury its nose in the source and never come up for air.
“Honey!” His wife exclaims as she leads you to the living room. “Come here. I want you to meet someone.”
The second he lays his eyes on you—a pretty college girl that has yet to go through her first heat—he’s unable to control the familiar dark feeling building in his chest. His pulse starts to race, and right then he realizes that his wife hadn’t helped him break his obsessive streak at all.
Your alluring eyes and bashful smile are completely entrancing. They radiate an intense beauty he didn’t believe existed in this world. Somehow, Heeseung is able to hide the dark desire consuming him as he introduces himself. Your voice is soft and gentle when you say your name as if you’re still wary of him. He finds it adorable, and so damn tempting. Already, his cock is twitching and coming alive.
“Why didn’t your little boyfriend come with you?” Your mom’s voice yanks Heeseung out of his trance.
A sickening feeling pinches his gut. Boyfriend?
“Jake and I aren’t together anymore, mom.” You say it so indifferently that Heeseung has to hold back a sigh of relief. “I told you that last time we talked.”
Not that you having a boyfriend would have posed too much of a problem, but it definitely would’ve made things more difficult for him.
“Are you staying for dinner, Y/N?” Heeseung wonders, hoping you’ll say yes.
You tilt your head slightly, eyes shifting beside him to exchange a look with your mom. Whatever you see on her face makes you shake your head. Your pretty lips pull down slightly in genuine regret. “No—Sorry. Maybe next time.”
Heeseung resists the urge to shake off his wife’s touch when her hands snake around his arm. He can feel her smile against his bicep. It’s revolting and puzzling. Why wouldn’t she want her own daughter around?
“That’s okay, sweetie. We’ll have dinner some other time whenever you’re free.”
She sounds smug, but you don’t offer her any reaction. All you do is politely say your goodbyes before hastily leaving the house.
If Heeseung were any other man, he would’ve been happy to have his wife all to himself again. However, all he can think of is you now. His hidden stepdaughter who evoked emotions from him that are intense enough to fuel the sprouting of an obsession.
“Classes start soon,” Heeseung mentions casually the next morning. “Does Y/N usually stay on campus?”
The sour look on his wife’s face is quickly masked when she takes a sip of her coffee. “She started living with that Jake boy after she graduated high school. He has an apartment near the university.”
Heeseung tries not to sneer at the mention of the boy who had clearly been an important part of your life. “It didn’t bother you that she ran off to live with some boy so soon after finishing school?”
His wife scoffs. “She was already an adult when she decided to live with him. It’s not like I could stop her.”
More like she didn’t want to.
“Invite her to stay with us.”
The words are casual and could be seen as considerate to anyone who didn’t know of the dark intentions looming in Heeseung’s mind. His wife almost chokes on her drink when she hears his suggestion. Her eyes widened the slightest bit. An unsettling amount of rage swims in her irises as his suggestion sinks in. It’s gone within a few seconds, but he caught it.
“Honey,” her voice is tight. “That’s very nice of you, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” Heeseung challenges, raising an eyebrow at the fumbling woman.
“I– She—She probably won’t want to,” his wife clears her throat to cover up how flustered she feels. “I’m sure she already made plans to stay with one of her friends instead.”
“Call her.” It’s not a suggestion anymore. “Tell her to come stay with us.”
And that’s the moment his obsession began to spiral out of control.
It’s obvious that your mother isn’t thrilled about having you around, but Heeseung feels the exact opposite. Unlike his wife’s malicious description of you, you’re so unbearably sweet and polite to him that he can’t help but be completely endeared by you. He’s not sure if it’s his natural instinct or the inappropriate feelings he has, but he basks in the emotions you evoke from the depths of his heart.
You’re a sweet girl through and through, always offering to help around the house, or keeping him company when your mom’s working late. Heeseung can tell you genuinely like to help him and spend time with him which makes him all the more crazy for you.
This is incomparable to how he feels when he realizes how comfortable you’ve gotten around him. When Heeseung told you to treat his home as your own, you took him up on the offer (much to his pleasure). You sometimes walk around in a tiny nightie that barely covers anything or tiny sleep shorts and a thin tank top that does nothing to hide the fact that you aren’t wearing a bra.
“Good night, Hee,” you’d call from the door sweetly, leaning against the doorframe with an alluring smile.
His cock would spring awake, loving how you slowly started to use cute little nicknames for him. Heeseung can tell it bothers his wife. Her face twists the tiniest bit any time she hears you call him Hee. Not that he cares. In fact, he was quick to put her in her place when she scolded you for not calling him Mr. Lee. Much to her displeasure, Heeseung made it clear to both of you that you can call him whatever you want.
Making his wife upset was the last thing he cared about because nothing was more important than you and your happiness.
Heeseung usually doesn’t get up so early, but ever since he’s gotten used to sleeping next to his wife, he always notices when she’s not in bed next to him. He looks at his phone to see that it’s four in the morning. Just before sleep can claim him again, he hears faint voices. Even through the sleepy haze, he can tell it’s an unfriendly conversation.
Immediately, his mind goes to you. The thought that something might be happening to you or upsetting you has him springing out of bed. He speedwalks down the hall to your room. You have the second biggest one in the house not only because he wanted you to have the best, but because he wanted you close to him.
“—being serious. Don’t bother Heeseung while I’m away.” His wife’s harsh voice makes his stomach turn unpleasantly. “He’s a busy man, and I don’t want you getting on his nerves.”
“I won’t, mom.” You sound tired.
“Good,” she snaps. “And be grateful that he’s letting you stay here for free. Remember he can change his mind any time.”
Never.
“I know that,” you sound so down that Heeseung wants to gather you in his arms and reassure you that he’d never do something despicable like that. “I won’t get in his way”
“You better not,” your mom hisses. “I mean it, Y/N. We better not get back to find the house smelling like all your little friends.”
Now Heeseung wishes his business trip didn’t fall at the same time as your mother’s. She wouldn’t be berating you so much if he was staying behind. It’s especially infuriating because he explicitly told you it was okay to have friends over, just no boys. You laughed sweetly and promised him just that there would be no one over at all. It made him a bit sad because he didn’t want you being overly cautious.
“I’m not that irresponsible, mom. Like, I’m obviously not going to bring random people to a house that’s not mine.”
That feels like a punch to the gut. Heeseung had worked so hard to make you feel like this was your home, and it pisses him off that your mom is destroying all that work. Never in a million years would he have thought that his biggest obstacle in making you see this house as your own would be your own mother.
“Good. Also, don’t go into my room while I’m gone. I don’t need it smelling like you—”
Heeseung has to walk away. He can’t stand listening to his wife anymore. It makes him sick to his stomach to think that this is what you used to put up with all the time. No wonder you ran off to live with your ex as soon as you were able to.
His wife leaves in a few hours for the airport, and he decides right then and there that he’s going to show you the love you deserve.
Later that morning, Heeseung goes down to the living room to wait for you to wake up. He plans to spend the day with you and make sure you know that he doesn’t mind having you around. Luckily for him, he doesn’t have to wait long. You come downstairs shortly after in a pair of sweats and a large shirt, looking unbelievably cute.
“Good morning, Hee,” you say with a sleepy smile.
“Morning,” he says in a strained voice. It takes everything in him not to call you a cute pet name like he desperately wants to. “Come watch TV with me.”
Heeseung pats the spot next to him with a pretty smile that makes your heart jerk. You can’t deny that the invitation excites you. And so, in spite of the nerves you feel, you go sit by him.
“I’m happy we can spend some time together,” Heeseung hums as he leans back against the cushions, stretching an arm over the back of the couch. “Come here.”
You’re such a good girl that you don’t hesitate to snuggle up under his arm. Heeseung feels completely alive when you make yourself comfortable against him. This is what his life should constantly be like. He drapes his arm across your shoulders and squeezes you against him. Heeseung can’t resist the temptation and presses a gentle kiss on the side of your head. You whimper softly when you feel his lips graze your ear.
Heeseung smirks into your hair and presses another gentle kiss to the tip of your ear. His cock twitches when he sees you press your thighs together but make no attempt to move away. He lets out a pleased hum and starts to press more kisses on the side of your head. Eventually, those sweet pecks start to trail down your neck. Now you can’t hold back your soft sighs of pleasure.
“You feel good, baby?” He wonders against your skin before he starts to bite and suck on it.
You tilt your head to give him more access. “Y-Yeah.”
It’s wrong, but your nipples get hard under your shirt, and you’re starting to feel hot all over.
“Fuck. You have no idea what you do to me.”
You let out a quiet moan, mind swimming. “God, Hee.”
Heeseung nips at your neck. “Be a good girl for daddy, baby. Give me a kiss.”
As if you’re in a trance, you turn to meet his dark eyes before leaning in. Your eyes close when his lips meet yours. His lips are impossibly soft, and you moan when his tongue runs across your bottom lip before he forces it in your mouth. He kisses you with an urgency that makes you feel dizzy. Heeseung groans, cock throbbing as he tastes you to his desire. You’re just as sweet as he thought you’d be.
You whine when your stepdad reluctantly pulls away.
“You want more?” His smile is sweet yet teasing.
The way you nod has his cock twitching in his pants. He gives into your silent request, groaning as he kisses you again. Your tongues tangle together as he devours you, acting like your lips are the sweetest things he’s ever tasted. Every movement is passionate and is making your pussy pulse with need. Once again, it ends too quickly for your liking.
“Another one,” you demand cutely. “Please.”
Your stepdad’s smirk is so attractive, and it matches the heat in his eyes. Heeseung raises his eyebrow at you teasingly before he’s leaning back in to give you what you want. He groans into your mouth again when he feels one of your hands rest on his thigh.
Heeseung kisses you with more need as he slowly guides your hand to his very prominent bulge. He smirks when you gasp into his mouth after feeling how hard he is. You don’t fully pull away, so he uses that to playfully bite your bottom lip. Your cunt clenches at the action as your wide eyes look where your hand is cupping his dick.
“Look how hard you made me, sweetheart,” Heeseung whispers as he presses a gentle kiss on your temple. “Be a good girl and pull my cock out.”
Arousal is clouding your mind, which is why you don’t hesitate to do as he says. You unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants until you see his underwear. Licking your lips, you pull on his waistband while your other hand pulls his dick out.
Heeseung groans deeply as soon as your soft hand touches his hot skin. You’re gawking at it so cutely, and it’s obvious that you can’t look away. He smirks as his cock throbs in your hand.
Your stepdad’s dick is long and girthy. It’s also really fucking pretty—the prettiest one you’ve ever seen. Your mouth waters as you realize that it’s way bigger than Jake’s. The thought of taking it makes your pussy clench in anticipation. Your fingers slowly trail up the prominent veins to tease the leaking head. Fuck. You know it’s going to feel amazing.
“Shit, baby,” Heeseung groans. “Touch me as much as you want. Daddy’s cock is all yours.”
As if to prove his point, his dick twitches in your hand and more precum oozes from his fat tip. You run your fingers through the sticky mess, smearing it along the length as you start to caress the soft skin.
“It’s so big,” you whisper in awe as your clit pulses with need.
Heeseung groans and squeezes you into his side. The hand that’s hanging off your shoulder slowly trails down your body until it’s slipping inside your loose sweats. Heeseung’s cock leaks steadily as he goes to cup your hot cunt. Your stepdad shoves his face into your neck and groans. His lips drag against your skin as you use your hand to work his dick.
“Is this all for me, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you whine as you start to roll your hips into his hand to get some friction. “Never been so wet before.”
Heeseung almost cums from your words alone. He pulls back to watch you grind your needy pussy into his palm. Your nails dig into his bicep as he presses his hand against you harder. Thet soft moans you’re letting out are driving him crazy. He bucks his hips into your hand, and you take the hint and move your hand faster.
“That’s it, baby. Ride my hand like a good little girl. My good girl,” he growls.
“Daddy,” you whine as your juices start to wet his hand.
“God, you’re perfect,” he grunts after kissing your cheek sweetly. “So fucking good for me.”
Slowly, he slips his hand out of your sweats and orders you to pull them off. Your core burns with need as you get off the couch to do as he says.
“Come here.”
Heeseung pulls you into his lap so your back is against his chest. He holds your hips as his soft lips brush against your ear.
“Take your panties off.”
You arch your hips up and slide your underwear down your legs until they’re all the way off. Heeseung groans when he sees your bare pussy. Your stepdad hooks your legs over thighs so your pussy is spread and on display for him. He whispers a quiet be good before he slaps his hand on your sensitive clit. You cry out when he spanks your cunt again.
“You like getting your pussy slapped, don’t you, little girl?”
Your toes are curling in your socks as you arch back into Heeseung, grinding down on the dick you feel against your ass. He starts to fuck it between your plump cheeks, groaning at how filthy you are. He fucking loves it.
“Yes, daddy,” you gasp out wantonly. “I love it when you slap my little pussy.”
Heeseung smirks and gives your swollen clit another stinging slap. Your body jerks like you’ve been electrocuted, and you moan loudly from the tingling feeling coursing through your pussy. The smacks keep coming, each harder than the last. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your stepdad keeps spanking your throbbing pussy. At this point, you can’t do anything other than moan.
Heeseung stops his movements to slip his middle and ring fingers into your tight hole. You’re completely submerged in pleasure as you feel his wedding band glide against your slick walls.
“Fuck, little girl,” Heeseung laughs delightedly. “Even your mom doesn’t get this wet for me. You’re just a perfect little slut, aren’t you?”
You clench hard around his fingers at those words. Your hips are rolling, grinding your ass into his wet cock while you fuck his fingers deeper into your pussy.
“Oh?” Heeseung’s voice gets deeper. “You like hearing that your stepdad likes you better than your mom?”
You’re moaning again as you dizzily nod your head. “Yes, fuck. Tell me how you like my pussy better than hers, daddy.”
Heeseung moans, fucking his cock faster against your plump ass. “Shit, baby. You know you’re better than your mom. Ever since she introduced me to you, I knew you were better.”
“Daddy!” You moan loudly as his fingers continue to plunge into you at a quick pace.
Heeseung feels you tightening around his fingers. Your cunt is so hot and tight, and he knows it’ll feel better wrapped around his cock. He starts to plant wet kisses on your neck, wanting to push you over the edge.
“You gonna cum for daddy, baby?”
Those words are enough to get you to do just that. The coil in your stomach snaps as you cum around your stepdad’s long fingers.
Seeing you cum on his lap helps Heeseung reach his own climax. He cums with a groan of your name, grinding his cock into your soft ass as he releases his thick cum on your lower back. Your stepdad slowly pulls his fingers out of your pussy with a lewd wet sound before bringing them to his mouth and sucking on them. His moan makes your core throb all over again.
“So fucking sweet.”
Before you can say anything in response, Heeseung’s ringtone cuts through the silence. He tugs you closer as he goes to answer the phone. You’re too distracted to listen to what’s being said, but you come to your senses when Heeseung grumbles something about heading to the airport right away.
“You’re leaving?”
It kills Heeseung to hear how vulnerable you sound. He buries his face in your neck again, scenting you to reassure you that him leaving has nothing to do with what just happened.
“The clients want to meet sooner than planned. I have to go.”
You can feel his pout against your skin, and your heart thrums with fondness. Heeseung has always been unexpectedly cute in your eyes. That’s why it was so easy for you to give into him.
“Okay,” you relax against him. “I understand.”
As always, you’re a perfect angel through and through. Heeseung presses a soft kiss to your neck before he helps you stand. Immediately, he helps you clean up before going upstairs to shower. He really doesn’t want to leave, but he can’t act irresponsibly no matter how badly he wants to. And now that he knows you want him just as much as he wants you, he’ll have plenty of time to make you all his.
Once Heeseung has all his things, he goes downstairs to find you waiting for him. He gathers you in his arms, not really wanting to let you go. When he pulls back, he gives you a passionate kiss to remind you that he doesn’t regret what’s happened between you two.
“When you get back, can we play some more?” You ask hopefully.
Heeseung grunts softly at the imagery he’s creating in his head. “Of course, baby. I’m all yours now.”
Coming back home from a long and tiring business trip isn’t anything new for Heeseung. What is new is the excitement he has to get home. He knows you’ll be waiting for him, and he can’t wait to show you how much he’s missed you.
The excitement he feels is ruined completely when he gets off his plane and finds his wife waiting for him. It’s an unpleasant surprise, but she doesn’t realize just how badly she ruined the day. Heeseung almost wishes he would’ve asked for a divorce before he boarded the plane. At least then he wouldn’t have had to deal with her right when he got back home.
“How was the trip, honey?”
“Fine,” Heeseung’s voice is curt, but once again, his wife seems impervious to his obvious attitude.
He doesn’t ask about her trip, but she tells him anyway. She talks all the way back to the house as if Heeseung is actually listening to her. In reality, he’s an expert in blocking her out at this point. This time is way easier since all his thoughts are filled with nothing but you.
The house is quiet when they arrive, and Heeseung barely holds back from calling your name. Your mom is obviously not interested in seeing you because she suggests going out for dinner after they go upstairs and put their things away. He doesn’t feel bad for turning down her suggestion with the excuse of being jet lagged.
As soon as Heeseung and his wife get on the second floor, the overwhelming scent of an omega in heat hits them. Heeseung’s cock comes alive instantly, getting completely hard in less than a minute. Without waiting for his wife to follow, he goes directly toward your room where the pungent smell is coming from.
Heeseung throws your door open without bothering to knock. What he finds is devastating to him. You’re laying in the middle of the large bed in nothing but a large shirt, eyes screwed shut as you tremble in pain. The thin sheen of sweat lining your forehead is evidence that you’ve been in heat for a while now.
Your eyes slowly open and settle directly on your stepdad. They stare at him before slowly trailing down to the large bulge in his pants. You lick your lips, and it takes everything in Heeseung not to rip your clothes off and take you right then and there.
“Y/N!” His wife’s angry voice brings him out of his debased fantasy. “Why the hell are you in heat?”
Heeseung looks back at his wife with an incredulous glare. So many things are going through his mind, but one question keeps coming up. Why is she so angry over something that’s natural?
“Sorry, mom,” you say through a pant. “I ran out of the suppressants you gave me.”
Before you can continue, Heeseung turns to your mother with a murderous look on his face. “You gave her suppressants?”
An omega taking suppressants is practically unheard of since they cause so many health issues. The drugs are practically poison, and the fact that your own mother was giving them to you made him sick to his stomach. It makes him think back to the first time he met you. Now he understands why she was so determined to hide what she was so insistent on giving you.
“They help her,” his wife says frantically. “But that’s not the point right now. She has to leave so her heat doesn’t affect you.”
Heeseung growls under his breath. Over his dead body will you leave his house looking and smelling how you do.
Your mom turns her nasty glare back on you. “Call Jake and have him pick you up. I’m sure he won’t have any problem helping you through your heat—”
“Get out,” Heeseung spits, barely controlling his rage.
How dare his wife suggest that you ask another man to help you through your heat? No one except him is ever going to see you like this.
“What?” His wife’s stunned expression only makes him growl impatiently.
“I’m going to help Y/N through her heat.”
Your mom’s eyes widen in anger, and she glares over at you like what’s happening is your fault. Normally, you’d feel guilty or anxious about upsetting your mom, but the pain isn’t letting you think straight. You need Heeseung’s cock, and you don’t care if it’s going to hurt your mom in the process.
Heeseung ignores his wife and goes to you. He sits down on the bed next to you before pulling you on his lap. A soft moan of relief cuts through the tense silence as his hard bulge presses up right against where you need him the most. You feel so hot all over, and your head is clouded with such potent arousal that you forget your mom is still standing in the room until Heeseung looks at her over your shoulder.
“I told you to get out,” he growls. A mean smirk takes over his face. “Unless you want to watch me knot your daughter.”
You whimper and roll your hips into Heeseung. The fact that he’s saying he’s going to give you his knot is making you gush with more slick. It excites you that he’s going to help you, and to think he doesn’t care to hide it from your mom makes a deep satisfaction settle inside you.
His wife is looking on with tears in her eyes. She’s disgusted and enraged, but she knows no matter what she says or does, Heeseung isn’t going to change his mind.
“It hurts, daddy,” you whine as you grind your pussy on his clothed dick, no longer thinking to spare any of your mom’s feelings. “Want you to make me feel better.”
You swivel your hips and press down harder onto his hard cock. With a throaty groan, Heeseung grabs your ass to help you bounce on his bulge. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s going to give you exactly what you need.”
His voice dips into a low moan when you lean forward to lick and bite at the sensitive spot on his neck. You feel his cock twitch and kick against your panty clad pussy, and it makes you whine.
Your mom flinches when she sees Heeseung’s glare from over your shoulder. It’s a silent command for her to get out, and she finally does. She doesn’t get far, only being able to take a few steps out of your room before she collapses on the floor with a quiet sob.
“Fuck, little girl. Couldn’t wait until your mom was out of the room, huh?” His laugh is cruel, but it only turns you on.
“Don’t care,” you whine before leaning in to smash your mouth against his. “Just want your cock.”
You gently nip his bottom lip before messily forcing your tongue into his mouth. There’s a desperation you’ve never felt before as you grind down on his thick cock. The fact that he’s leaking with enough precum to stain his pants is driving you more insane. You keep rocking your hips so your clit rubs against the rough material of his jeans.
“Yeah?” Heeseung groans when you pull away. He continues to help you grind your messy pussy on his bulge. “You need daddy to stuff your little pussy?”
Your eyes roll back when he dry humps your pussy slowly. He’s grinding the thick outline of his cock right against your wet slit to get you more riled up than you already are.
Eventually, Heeseung decides he needs to prep you. Because as badly as he wants you, he can’t forget that this is your first real heat. So, he pulls you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed.
“I need to taste you properly, sweetheart. Last time wasn’t enough.”
A tingle goes straight to your pussy when he pulls your large shirt off and tosses it across your room. Heeseung buries his nose between your legs, sniffing across your soaked panties. The fabric sticks to your pussy lips, allowing your stepdad to lick at your clit easily.
“Oh, daddy!” you moan, hands reaching down to tangle your hands in his hair.
He grunts and laps up the slick leaking down your thighs before roughly rips your underwear off to lap at your leaking hole.
“You taste so fucking good, little girl,” his muffled voice causes vibrations that make your toes curl. “Fuck. I could eat your little cunt all day.”
“Daddy, please,” you grind against his mouth, eyes locked on his blown out gaze.
He hums and the vibrations make your clit tingle as more slick drips onto his tongue. The thick muscle slides in and out of your hole before he licks his way back up to your clit. You cry out wantonly when your stepdad softly sucks the swollen bud into his mouth. Your thighs tremble as his tongue swirls around your pudgy clit before he starts to gently suckle on it.
“It feels so fucking good,” you moan loudly, thighs falling open as far as they can go.
Heeseung growls, tongue fucking your pussy until sloppy wet sounds fill the room. His hands trail up the underside of your thighs to push your legs to your chest. You moan when he pulls back to spit on your cunt. He quickly dives back in, burying his face in your soaked pussy. Another loud cry tumbles out of you when he starts to lick and suck on your sensitive nub.
“Such a sweet pussy,” Heeseung moans.
His tongue languidly laps at your wet folds, eyes locked with yours from where he’s lying between your legs. Your stepdad’s hands come up to the inside of your thighs and press down, leaving you spread open for his hungry mouth. The sight of his beautiful face buried in your cunt makes you drip with more slick. Heeseung keeps licking into your slick hole like a starved man, desperate to not waste one drop of your sweet essence. You’re crying out for him as your hips roll into his mouth. He pulls away slightly to spit into your pussy again before fucking his spit into your clenching hole.
You moan and pull on his hair. The dark strands are wrapped around your fingers to help guide his face to where you want it most. Heeseung smirks against you and starts to press wet, open mouthed kisses on your throbbing clit. He sucks the swollen bud into his mouth and flicks his tongue against it over and over again. Your stepdad hums into your pussy, suckling on your clit softly as he indulges in your sweet taste.
“I’m gonna cum! You’re gonna make me cum, daddy!" you moan loudly.
“Cum all over my face, sweetheart. Show daddy how good he makes you feel,” your stepdad says before he presses his face between your folds to suck your clit back into his mouth.
“Daddy!” You moan loudly as you cum.
You jolt as your slick completely coats his lower jaw and slowly starts to drip down his chin. He looks so hot covered in your juices that another wave of arousal hits you with full force.
“Messy fucking girl,” Heeseung grunts as he starts to take off his clothes.
Your mouth waters when you see his big cock slap his lower abdomen. Since he’s been gone, you’ve been dreaming about that pretty dick every night.
Heeseung goes to kiss you roughly, eagerly shoving his tongue into your mouth. Tasting yourself makes you arch up into his body. Fuck. You’re so turned on and desperate that you feel like you might die if he doesn’t shove his cock inside you soon.
Seeing you so needy makes Heeseung pull back slightly to stroke his cock. Your eyes follow his movements, and you lick your lips when you see the amount of precum beading at the tip. With a deep groan, your stepdad notches his leaking tip against your clenching hole. Heeseung groans as he glides the fat head up your slit to smack it against your clit.
The feeling of the hot skin of his cock pulsing against your pussy makes you whine desperately. He keeps dragging his dripping cock against your throbbing cunt repeatedly, loving how you’re squirming against him. Teasing you is everything he imagined it would be, and he makes a note to do it often from now on. Heeseung thrusts his hips to rub his cock through the slick dripping from your cunt, moaning at how easily it coats the length of his cock.
“Look how deep daddy’s cock is gonna go, baby.” His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it.
Heeseung uses his thumb to press his tip down against your skin as your unfocused eyes take in how far his cock will reach inside your needy cunt. It pulses and throbs, and more slick leaks out of you.
“Oh god, daddy. It’s too big,” you mewl even though the thought of having his monster cock inside you turns you on to no end.
With an endeared chuckle, he pulls his cock back to slide it across your pudgy bud. The bulbous head grinds against your sensitive clit until you’re whining and dripping more slick onto your sheets.
“Your pretty pussy’s just small, sweetheart,” he coos softly before he licks a broad stripe up your neck. “But don’t worry. Daddy’s gonna stretch out your cute little cunt so you can take my knot.”
Those filthy words make you whine and buck your hips desperately.
“Ready to take this cock, little girl?”
Without waiting for an answer, he slips the head of his dick inside your clenching hole. He presses into your pussy slowly, and it makes you moan wantonly as you instantly feel some of your pain fade. Your moan breaks off into a gasp when you feel the burning stretch.
“Fuck, you’re gonna be tight,” he laughs in delight. “A tight little pussy for daddy.”
You dig your nails into his back, eyes rolling into your skull as his girthy cock stretches your cunt. “It’s too big, daddy.”
“Too big?” Heeseung repeats as he gently bites your neck. “I guess daddy’s just going to have to train you to take his big cock then, huh?”
With that, he sinks his cock another inch into your clenching hole. Your walls clench down on his dick and make his hips stutter. His veiny cock feels so fucking good that you that the unbearable pain fades instantly. You feel so full and stretched out, but you want more. Your body reacts by getting wetter, easing the way for Heeseung to bully his cock further into your pussy until he bottoms out.
“I’m gonna spend all week training you, little girl,” he promises. “Daddy’s staying buried in this cute little pussy until you’re all nice and bred.”
You moan high in your throat, walls clamping down around Heeseung’s thick cock as you cum hard.
“Oh, fuck me,” he laughs, extremely pleased. “You like that? Like that I’m gonna breed this sweet pussy all week?”
He pulls his cock halfway out then slowly sinks back into your wet and willing body. You mewl as your cream coats his cock.
“Yes, daddy! Want you to stuff me full all week long!”
Heeseung starts fucking his cock deeper into your pussy, eager to give you what you want. He reaches between your bodies and begins to rub and pinch your clit. “I’m gonna fuck you through your heat, sweetheart. Gonna cream this pussy over and over again.”
You’re letting out filthy moans like your mom isn’t right outside your room crying her eyes out because you’re fucking her husband. Not that you care. All you can think about is the mind-numbing pleasure you’re receiving.
“Cum on my cock again, baby,” Heeseung groans as he spears his cock into your sloppy hole. “I want you to squeeze me with that hot little cunt while I cum in you.”
You cry out loudly as his leaking tips rams into your g-spot. Your stepdad’s girthy cock is rutting into your squelching cunt mercilessly, heavy balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. Heeseung’s fingers circle your clit until your pussy is clenching and spasming around him again.
“Are you gonna give me your cum, daddy?” Your eyes shine with anticipation. “Your knot?”
“Of course, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna give you a nice hot load. Then, I’m gonna knot you so it takes. That’s how much I love you.”
His words make you gush more slick, eyes rolling back as the musky scent of sex fills the room. You cry out, feeling feral all over again.
“Fuck yes!” You scream in pleasure. “Cream my little pussy, daddy! Want it so fucking bad!”
“Yeah? Then let’s make it easier.”
Without letting you answer, Heeseung pulls out of you with a lewd squelching sound and flips you onto your hands and knees. One of his hands presses down on your back while the other grips your hip to raise your ass up. Your stepdad’s big cock slides into your hot cunt much easier in this position. He bottoms out with a loud groan as you claw at your sheets.
Mewling, you press your ass backwards, working more of Heeseung’s big cock into your dripping pussy. You feel your slick dripping down your thighs and coat his heavy balls.
“Want you to knot me,” you slur, nails digging into your plush bedding. “Want your knot, daddy!”
He growls and starts to slam his cock into your sloppy pussy, making you cry out from the rough movement. Your walls clamp and pulse around his fat dick as he keeps spearing you open. The way you moan and mewl for him only makes him fuck you harder.
“Good girl,” he groans loudly, making you shiver all over. “My good little girl.”
“Daddy,” you whimper as your pussy walls flutter around his thick length.
Heeseung’s cock throbs inside you. He pulls out halfway before roughly slamming his dick back into your sopping wet hole.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he says as he squeezes the globes of your ass. Your eyes roll back as his fingers dig into your skin. “This perfect pussy was made for me. Isn’t that right, baby?”
“Yes!” You gasp out in agreement as Heeseung pounds your cunt hard. “This little pussy is all yours, daddy!”
Heeseung moans loudly and spanks your bouncing ass. You scream, pussy fluttering and pulsing around his dick as your third orgasm takes you both by surprise.
“Good girl,” he coos, grabbing the fat of your ass with both hands again. “Such a good fucking girl. Gripping me with your tight pussy and working for my knot like a good little slut.”
Your body trembles as Heeseung keeps thrusting his fat cock right against your g-spot. His fat tip slams against your cervix, and you can’t stop crying out in pleasure.
“Cum one more time for me, pretty girl,” your stepdad roughly spanks your ass again, making you whine. “Just give me one more, and I’ll knot this pretty pussy so you’re nice and full. Don’t you want that? For your hot cunt to be bred until you’re stuffed to the brim?”
“Please, daddy!” You cry out, ass bouncing back against his rough thrusts. “Want your knot! Want it so fucking bad!”
One of his hands slides down your body to circle the swollen bundle of nerves coated in your slick. Your pussy clamps down on his dick as he softly teases your clit.
“That’s it, baby.” Heeseung hunches over your back to kiss your neck. His tongue laps against your sweaty skin right over the sensitive spot that’s meant to take his mark. “I feel you getting tighter, baby. Cream all over my cock.”
As Heeseung keeps hammering into your pussy, his fingers circle and tease across your pudgy bud until one last thrust has your orgasm whiting out your vision. Your ears ring so loud you don’t even hear as your stepdad curses against your neck while he snaps his hips against your ass before burying his cock deep in your spasming pussy.
“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna cum,” he pants into your neck. “Take my knot. Fuck. Take it.”
You cry out loudly. That desperate noise has Heeseung fucking his cock deep inside you until he cums.
“That’s it,” he’s groaning and panting as he licks at your neck. “Milk my cock, little girl.”
You wail when his knot locks you together, stretching your cunt even further as you feel his hot thick cum spill inside you. Ropes and ropes of his hot seed spill into your pussy, and you love that his knot is keeping it stuffed inside you.
“So good for me,” Heeseung groans, hands smoothing over your sides and back. He starts to scent you. “Such a perfect omega. So fucking perfect.”
You sigh in content, body going limp as Heeseung continues to fill your pussy with load after load. You’ve heard that alphas cum more than usual when helping an omega in heat, but you didn’t expect it to be this much. Not that you’re complaining. You’re taking every drop he gives you with a blissful smile on your face
Your stepdad grinds his dick inside your pussy until the steady stream of cum stops filling you. He slowly shifts your bodies until you’re both able to lay on your sides comfortably. Heeseung buries his nose in your neck as his hands start to caress your body.
“Feels nice,” you mumble, relaxing even further against him.
“Good.” He says before he kisses your neck.
You mewl when he keeps pressing soft kisses on your neck and dragging his teeth over a sensitive spot that no one else has dared to touch. Heeseung keeps you two in the same position until his knot slowly deflates.
You whine when he slowly pulls out. Heeseung watches with dark eyes as his cum leaks out of your pussy. He uses two of his fingers to scoop it up and smear it across your clit. You mewl as slick starts to drip out of you again. Heeseung takes the opportunity to shove your legs open and rub your clit until your body arches off the bed. A mix of slick and cum gushes from your pussy as you climax again.
“Let me lick that pussy, baby,” Heeseung murmurs as he starts kissing his way down your body. “Want to suck on that swollen little bud until you’re creaming my tongue.”
“Fuck,” your whine is high-pitched and needy. “Do it, daddy. I want your mouth on my pussy.”
He groans and sloppily kisses your slit in thanks. When he pulls back a bit, you see his lips coated with your juices. Your pussy pulses and clenches in eagerness.
“So messy, sweetheart.”
With that, your stepdad pushes your thighs against the bed to keep you spread for him. He repeatedly plants wet kisses on your pulsing clit, worshipping you until you’re writhing against him. His teeth scrape and nip your pudgy nub as his dark eyes watch you carefully.
Heeseung spanks your pussy when you keep squirming. He smirks when you jolt with a loud cry. Slick pours out of you, filling the room with your lovely scent. It’s your body’s way of signaling that it’s ready to be knotted again.
“What a needy little girl,” he coos as he blows air on your soaked cunt. “Just desperate for me to clean up this sloppy pussy, hm?”
“Yes, yes!” You moan, pussy throbbing with need. “Eat my pussy, daddy. Lick me clean.”
“Dirty little slut,” Heeseung groans before he slaps your wet cunt again. “I’m gonna stay here with you all night. Keep my tongue buried in your tight hole until you squirt all over me.”
“Fuck. Yes, yes!” you moan as you arch your hips up to entice him. “Let me cum all over your face, daddy!”
Heeseung smirks and buries his face in your cunt to give you what you want.
You lose complete track of time as Heeseung makes you cum on his tongue over and over again. After the second orgasm, you start squirting like he wants. He’s so delighted that he keeps fucking his tongue into you, indulging himself in your addicting taste. You’re happy to lay there and let him eat your pussy until you’re nothing more than a gushing mess.
“Good girl,” Heeseung moans into your cunt, his face completely drenched in your slick.
You mewl in response, hoping he’s had enough fun playing with your pussy to give you his cock. He flips you over and arches your back so your ass and pussy are on full display for him. He groans when he sees your soaked pussy and thighs.
“Hee,” you whimper desperately. “Want your cock.”
“Spread those legs for me, baby. Show daddy that sloppy pussy.”
With a loud whine, you bend forward more and spread your thighs apart further to give him a better view of your holes. Your pussy is dripping with slick, and Heeseung commits the filthy sight to memory.
“Daddy,” you whimper. “Please.”
Your stepdad lets out a deep laugh before his hands slide down your back to cup your ass and spread you open even more. Heeseung groans deeply.
“God, baby. I’m never gonna get tired of seeing this hot cunt gushing for me,” he tells you with a pleased hum. “I’m gonna breed this little pussy all night.”
“Please,” you beg through a moan, pressing your ass back against him. “Want it so bad, daddy.”
Heeseung rubs his cock against your soaked pussy lips, gathering your wetness all over his length. He licks his lips, loving how you feel against him. His cock throbs because he can tell how badly you’re aching to be fucked and knotted and stuffed full of cum.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re gonna get my knot. I’m gonna stuff your little pussy to the brim.” Heeseung promises before he slams his cock into your clenching heat.
Your moan is loud as he completely bottoms out into your needy pussy. Heeseung doesn’t let you adjust and pulls all the way out before slamming back inside. Your stepdad’s instincts completely take over, his only goal being to knot and breed your pussy.
You cry out when you feel your cunt stretching around his dick. He groans and drapes his chest across your back, hips slamming against your ass. The lewd sounds of skin slapping and the wet squelching of your pussy fills the room. You whine loudly, turned on from the fact that your mom can hear all the filthy noises.
“I’m gonna keep you knotted for hours, make sure it takes,” Heeseung groans before he starts to nip at your jawline,
“Fuck!” You mewl wantonly. “I want it, daddy! Want you to breed my pussy so fucking bad!”
Your legs start to shake when Heeseung reaches around to play with your clit. He bites down on your neck and starts spearing his fat cock into your clenching hole. He fucks you deep and fast, his slowly expanding knot brushing your entrance with every rock of his hips. You can only lay there and take it, moaning and whining in pleasure as he fucks your pussy. His cock pounds your soaked cunt, thick head knocking against your cervix.
“Good girl,” he groans, biting at your ear. “Good girls deserve to have their cute little pussies bred, don’t they, sweetheart?”
“Yes!” you cry as he rubs your clit faster. “I’m gonna cum, daddy. Gonna cream your fat knot.”
“That’s it, little girl,” he keeps rubbing fast circles on your swollen bud. “Cum all over me. Show me how much you want me to fill your pretty pussy.”
Heeseung starts to bite and suck on your neck as you moan for him. His hips snap against yours as he roughly fucks you into the mattress. With every thrust, his balls slap against your slippery clit until he’s pulling another orgasm from your exhausted body.
“Best fucking pussy I’ve ever had,” Heeseung groans, pulling out to slam back in, dick bullying into your swollen, fluttering walls. “Goddamn. You’re so fucking tight. My little girl just loves her stepdad’s dick so much.”
“I fucking love it, daddy!” You cry out. “Love your big cock so much!”
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm overtakes your senses. Heeseung groans as your cream stains his cock. Your body trembles as your pussy milks his dick. His hips piston against your ass, dragging your orgasm out until you spiral into a second one. Your stepdad groans, hips pumping his cock into your dripping cunt harshly.
Heeseung buries his cock deep in your spasming hole, knot locking you together as his cum floods your cunt, breeding your pussy full. He groans your name as he cums, walls milking him to shoot hot rope after rope of hot cum inside your little pussy. Pleasure consumes your entire body as you feel each spurt of his thick cum pumping into your cunt.
“Taking it so good, baby,” he murmurs against your neck, tongue licking the sweat beading at your skin. “Such a perfect little slut.”
You hum dazedly, body sinking down across your bed as you feel each spurt of his thick seed filling your pussy.
“So full, daddy,” you mewl, legs shaking as he softly ruts his knot further into you.
That’s how you spend the rest of your night. Being knotted by your stepdad over and over again until you can’t handle anymore.
It’s almost dawn by the time your mom hears all the filthy moans and groans from your room stop. By now, she’s ran her tears dry, and she thinks she might not be able to cry for a long time. With a heavy heart, she gets up from her bed and walks to your room. The heartbreaking sight of you laying on her husband’s chest, sleeping peacefully as he caresses your head is like a breaking point.
There’s a blanket draped over your bodies, but she can te you’re both still naked. She feels sick at the thought of her husband’s cock still being lodged inside you.
Heeseung turns his dark eyes on her, not at all affected by her puffy, bloodshot eyes. Her pitiful face only makes him feel disgusted.
“You’re not coming to bed?” Her voice is hoarse and weak.
“I’m still knotted to your daughter.”
A lone tear slips down her cheek.
“Heeseung—”
“You should leave. Y/N’s heat is more intense because of how long it was suppressed.” Heeseung’s voice is cold. “We can discuss the divorce after I finish helping her through it.”
His wife sobs, but he doesn’t feel sorry. He can’t. Especially not now that he’s finally had you in the way he wants. She turns and walks away from him like a zombie. He groans when you shift against him in your sleep. Your movements tug gently on his knot, and it makes his cock throb and twitch in need.
Heeseung hums in content. When you get up, he’s going to knot you all over again. Except this time, he’ll do it on his own bed since that’s where you’ll be sleeping soon.
As soon as your mom gets out of his house, he’s going to have you take her place. No matter how badly she begs, Heeseung won’t change his mind because he knows that there’s no getting rid of this feeling he has for you, and he doesn’t care what he has to do to keep you at his side forever.
▹ PAIRING — experienced husband heeseung x virgin f. reader
▹ GENRE — smut, fluff, newlyweds au
▹ SYNOPSIS — As teens, you were the uncanny duo that fell in love at first sight. Some odd years later, and you’re now a newlywed couple, spending your first night together in a fit of nerves as you navigate sex and other new feelings…
▹ WARNINGS — KINKTOBER SPECIAL, basically just pussy drunk!husband!heeseung making you squirt for hours on the night of your honeymoon, marriage themes (duh), mentions of food, dom and sub dynamics, kissing with tongue, overstimulation kink (reader cums multiple times), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, petnames (baby, angel, pretty, sweetie), that’s all
▹ WORD COUNT: 3.3k — DAY 1
YOU AND HEESEUNG were like Romeo and Juliet; two people from totally different walks of life, and honestly, no one ever would’ve guessed you two’d end up falling for each other.
Sometimes, it’s hard to tell any time had passed between the first moment you met Heeseung with a hickey on his neck in the lunch hall to now as you sit before him on a king sized bed, ring fingers clad with beautiful bands to match as you stared into each others eyes, speaking a love song of unspoken words.
“You’re fine with waiting til marriage?” You remember asking him a few weeks after you first started dating as teens, “you won’t think I’m a prude for wanting to keep things traditional?…”
“Of course not, sweetie,” you remember him answering while cupping your face in his hands, “a girl like you is worth the wait—” He whispered in between kissing your lips, “—and so much more…”
Since that moment, you and Heeseung have stuck to your guns, not even so much as showering together to keep your purity intact until the right moment…
… That fateful day when you’d say “I do” and he the same, right before venturing off into the sunset on angel’s wings to explore another country together.
Another life, might I add, as a married couple on your extravagant honeymoon…
Everything was so magical in your head, too… but regardless of that, Heeseung was too big of a fucking dork to let himself be romantic for once.
Just an hour ago, he had told the hotel receptionist “you too” after she congratulated you both on getting married—
“Grrrrrrrrr,” he pouted, scrunching his nose at you.
“Did you just… growl at me!?”
“Yes, and I’ll do it again if you keep resisting,” Heeseung threatened playfully, pointing an accusing finger at your frame now.
Sighing, you raised your hands beside your head as a sign of compliance, parting your lips slightly as you held your head back for him.
“Alright, don't move this time, alright? We can do this!” He ordered more passionately this time, cradling a single grape between his fingers before angling his wrist backwards and launching it towards your mouth.
“Oh my gosh, I finally caught it!” You shouted with excitement, words coming out a bit slurred as you bit down into the sweet fruit, “Tastes like victory,” you continued, making Heeseung grace you with his thundering ovation.
“Brava!” He began to cheer, but the rest of his sentence was interrupted by his own burp, which only elicited a fit of embarrassed giggles from the both of you…
Two empty glasses of wine sat on the hotel nightstand beside the bed you were currently sat on, and if it wasn't obvious enough, y'all were already starting to experience the giddy effects of the alcohol dancing in your systems.
“So,” you smiled, a laugh still present in your throat as you fed him a white grape from the bowl between you two, “we're the couple that eats pie in place of dinner now?”
“Sure... but not just any pie,” Heeseung corrected, leaning closer to your ear as he whispered, “blueeeberry pieeee.”
You're not sure if it was the wine or the honeymoon high, but you can't help yourself from laughing out loud at Heeseung's behavior in this moment—
“You’re a legend for always vibing with my horrible sense of humor, y’know that?” Your husband remarked while tilting his head at you endearingly.
“Your humor is definitely one-of-a-kind, but I wouldn't want you to change a thing about it,” you returned tenderly, right before feeding him a fork-full of blueberry pie from the dish between you two, feeling your heart swell as he smiled into the bite.
The kind of smile you’d have a hard time getting out of your mind later—
“Thanks, babe,” he said, a bit of dark blue jam resting in the corner of his mouth now as his eyes sparkled with what you could bet was pure flattery.
You always liked it whenever you managed to get Heeseung all flustered before you, considering how he was usually the one to make you a blushing mess with only his words.
“You've uh...” you stammer slightly, “you've got a little something on your lip there...”
“Really?”
“Yea, just... let me get it for you real quick,” you continue, licking the pad of your thumb before leaning forward to dab at the jam on his mouth.
That's when you noticed his lips curving into a subtle smirk as he whispered in a low voice, “You got it, baby?”
“Y-yea,” you stuttered again, feeling your face heat up at his words, and if you didn't look so hot to him right now, he would've pinched your cheeks—
“Whoops,” Heeseung gasped facetiously, pouting at the streak of blueberry jam he very intentionally just smeared on your lower lip, “must be the wine making me so clumsy today...”
Your eye almost twitched at the sight of him licking his finger clean, a rush of nerves swarming in your stomach now
“I-it's okay, Heeseung,” you said while lifting your thumb to your mouth, “I've got it...”
“No you don't,” he chuckled at your shy demeanor, right before closing the space between you two, taking your face in his hand and kissing you.
And yes, you saw this coming, but it took you a few seconds to fully close your eyes, letting them flutter shut as you both sighed at the taste of each other, almost as if the contact relaxed you…
The kiss was slow at first, with you and him simply breathing against each other’s mouths as his velvety lips moved against yours.
But that pace didn't last long once Heeseung broke from the kiss to move the bowl of grapes and pie out of the way, a few of the glossy green ovals hitting the ground with light thuds as his right hand found the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him.
The kiss grew more intense from there as both your heads were tilting into each other, wet smacks filling the room now as his tongue prodded against yours with every passing second.
“God, you taste so sweet,” Heeseung groaned, desperately clinging to your waist which only made you moan in response.
You and Heeseung had made out countless times in the past, but you could tell something was different this time... you never felt this worked up with him before, and you knew it wasn’t just gonna end with a kiss—
“Can’t wait to taste other parts of you, too, baby…” he hummed, kissing along your neck while pinning your delicate wrists above your head.
And that’s when you felt it…
The twitch between your legs and the heat rushing throughout your entire body…
You were wearing a plaid pajama skirt and white top that matched Heeseung’s plaid sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, as you simply expected to only eat some dessert, discuss the rest of your honeymoon plans, and head straight to sleep right after.
Now though, you knew you wouldn't be able to get much rest with your emotions like this… at least not comfortably, that is…
You’re between his lap at first until he guides you onto your back, kissing down your neck, between your breasts, and down your stomach as he lifts your top, stopping at the waist band of your skirt given the way your body tensed up suddenly.
“Is everything alright?” He asked softly, glancing back up at you with a swollen look to his pouty lips, given all the kissing they had just done.
You knew what was happening right now..
Heeseung was doing exactly what you had asked him to do, and as much as your body craved it, your mind kept fighting it for some reason…
FLASHBACK —
“Just… don’t make it too… formal, okay?”
“Formal?” Heeseung repeated with a slight chuckle as you sat beside each other on the plane that morning.
“Well, yea… I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it—”
“But it is a big deal, baby,” he cut you off by placing his hand over yours. “We’ve been waiting a long time for this, y’know?… Not just to have sex but—” he leaned closer to you as he whispered this in your ear, “—to make each other feel good… in all kinds of ways…”
His breath tickled your ear in that moment… similarly to how his lips were tickling you now as you laid before him on the mattress, his head hovering over the space between your thighs.
“We don’t have to go any further until you’re ready, love—”
“I’m ready, Heeseung,” you said while nodding, but he waited to continue, knowing in his heart that there was still something you needed to get off your chest.
He backed away, pulling your shirt back over your stomach and sitting on the bed normally now.
“Heeseung,” you said again, drawing his sparkly doe eyes back to you.
“I’m listening, love,” is all he replied with, offering you a warm smile, “what’s on your mind?”
What’s in the way? You internally asked yourself right after, knowing deep down that you had no reason to feel so nervous with him right now…
Heeseung had never alienated you because of your inexperience with sex before, and was always very understanding of your moral and sexual boundaries.
But now, things were different; you were a married couple, and one of the many perks of that was being able to explore each others body in a comfortable way…
Turns out though, it was all just your own insecurities clouding your judgment, and you hated that you couldn’t shake the nerves bubbling in your stomach…
“It’s just that,” you started nervously, fidgeting with your manicured nails, “I… I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Yeah, I know,” your husband nodded sarcastically, trying his best to resist the urge to kiss you again—
“And…well, you have a lot more experience than me with this kind of thing,” you continued, lowering your head.
“So what?”
“What if I don’t meet your expectations?…”
“Expectations? What do you mean, ____?”
“Well, you’ve been with a lot of other girls and what if I’m not as good as them? What if you don’t like sex with me?…”
Heeseung’s heart would’ve otherwise dropped at your words, but instead, he smiled softly, taking your chin in his hand and lifting your head towards him. “You’re nothing like those girls I was with in the past, ____, and that’s my favorite part about you,”
You looked into his eyes as he continued, “I’ll be happy with whatever happens tonight. You wanna know why? Because I did it with you, and I love you with my everything, princess…”
“I love you too, Heeseung,” you replied meekly, flashing him a soft smile as he kissed your cheek.
“No expectations tonight, then… okay, baby? I just wanna please you,” he whispered, slowly guiding your body back down against the mattress with a secure hand. “I wanna make you feel so good,” he continued, placing another kiss to the center of your lips.
Heeseung started by letting his plush lips wander all over your body again, lifting your shirt up once more to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your stomach.
“You're so beautiful,” he murmured with warm breath against your skin, caressing your inner thighs with his hands until you naturally craned them open, inviting him to your pulsing core.
Your breath hitched once you felt his nose burry between your clothed folds, but your little sounds only excited him even further, and he wasted no time in removing your panties completely now.
“Heeseung,” you whined, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he spat on your cunt, toying with the moisture there using his middle and index finger.
“Just relax for me, angel,” your husband cooed with a soothing tone, and you're not sure if it was the alcohol or the petname he just called you in his bedroom voice, but your head was starting to feel very dizzy.
And if you weren't so horny, you would've felt bashful in front of him like this... half-naked, and trembling when he's hardly even touched you yet.
The coldness of his wedding band against the warm flesh of your thigh sent shivers down your spine, and he wasted no time in inviting his fingers into your sopping hole, one at a time until your walls practically sucked him in.
He then started to leave kitten licks against your sensitive bud, complimenting the pace by pumping his wrist towards your pelvis with his digits still exploring the gummy walls of your cunt.
Admittedly, you had tried fingering yourself in the past, but it never felt as good as the way Heeseung worked wonders inside you right now, but you still needed something...
Something to hold onto… something to grab, and Heeseung could immediately tell once your nails started weakly nipping at the bed sheets, your pussy throbbing more and more—
“Hee,” you moaned, feeling his fingers curl deeper and deeper inside your tight cunt, “need to touch you so bad...”
“Yea? Wanna hold my hand, pretty?”
All you can manage to do is nod desperately, making him chuckle slightly at your neediness.
“If you hold my hands, I need you to promise to keep your legs open for me on your own... can you do that for me, love?”
“Y-yes,” you stammered, and with that, Heeseung got to work on licking your slick from his fingers before finding your hands in his.
But your core was already missing the stimulation, making your hips rise up and down as if thin air would provide enough friction to ease your craving.
And that's when he licked his first stripe up the center of your pussy, and you're sure your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sensation.
It didn't take long for the pleasure to escalate from there, either.
His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked you in like a starved out man. His tongue was applying pressure in all the best ways before sinking into your hole, filling you up just enough to have you arching your back on the bed.
You felt your first orgasm wash over you, but you knew your husband had no intention of stopping so soon.
You were mewling beneath him at the overstimulation, thankful that he at least slowed down the pace of his tongue, even though he was still very earnestly slurping at your juices…
“Could eat this pussy for hours, princess… you’re just too delicious…” he groaned, and you felt the bed shaking from the way he was rutting his crotch against the mattress, furrowing his eyebrows as his kept eating you out.
“Come on baby, let me hear you,” Heeseung practically begged, his tone sounding so hoarse, so drunk as the vibrations from his voice only tantalized you even further, “tell me how good it feels...”
“F-feels s-so fucking good, baby,” you moaned, words coming out in fragments given how cloudy your brain was becoming, and you're pretty sure you had your second or third orgasm shortly after as your hands squeezed his, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
His tongue was licking between your folds so well, the textured muscle making your skin tingle all over but in the best way imaginable.
Heeseung didn't plan on any of this to happening, which is why it felt so good in the first place. It was natural, raw, and so so messy…
Your own cum was dripping all over his chin and lips, and he was loving every single second of it.
He was obsessed with it. The way your clit throbbed against his lips, the way you squirted your juices all over his face, the way your thighs squirmed while struggling to stay open, and your angelically desperate cries of pleasure as he drew out orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.
He wished he could watch your face contort with need as he fucked you with his face and tongue, but he couldn't look back up at you no matter how hard he tried… He had to keep his face buried between you…
Your strength eventually gave out and your grip released his hands that soon found one of your tits, gripping the mound of flesh in a way that only drew you even further over the edge.
Your hips had even developed a mind of their own, humping against his face like a bunny in heat as he whispered filthy nothings against your cunt, as well as sweet somethings that you'd hear for the next hour or two that Heesueng spent with his pointy nose brushing against your clit.
“You're so fucking wet for me, angel...”
“Love it when you come all over my face.”
“Pull my hair, baby... harder than that...”
“So so beautiful, and just for me.”
“Keep those pretty thighs open just like that, baby…”
“You taste so fucking divine...”
“Please don't tell me to stop... just one more, baby... I know you've got it in you...”
He found just as much enjoyment being between your thighs as you did in having him there, making you cream on his tongue again and again until you finally hiccuped the words, “N-no more, Hee... p-please, I can't t-take anymore...”
But your begging only made Heeseung even greedier, letting his fingers find your clit where he applied enough pressure and stimulation to break that last orgasm out of you, leaving you a shaking mess as he kissed you down, harder than a bullet in his own pants from getting to see you like this so many times and for so long in just one evening.
A series of shaky whimpers filled the room now as your husband crawled back over you, kissing you with his swollen lips while caressing the side of your fucked-out face. “You did so good for me, baby... especially on your first night...”
“Th-thank you,” you said with a weak chuckle, still feeling your orgasms fresh in your hips and thighs as he kept soothing you with his touch, your breath shaky in your chest after hours of coming undone with him…
That's when he moved over to lay beside you, and your eyes almost immediately caught sight of the thick bulge resting behind his pants, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad now given how he didn’t get much action the whole time.
“Do you want me to...” you started timidly, moving your hand to touch him up til he stopped you.
“Not tonight... we can have fun with that tomorrow,” Heeseung smiled, making you giggle again as he changed his position to make the bulge less noticeable, “for now though, let's focus on getting you cleaned up... sound good?”
“Better than good,” you replied tenderly, kissing him on the cheek before he got up from the bed and headed toward the hotel bathroom where he planned to run you a nice warm bath.
“Wait!” Your husband called out suddenly, just as he caught you trying to get out of the bed on your own.
Running over, a confused look remained on your face as he picked you up from the mattress bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.
“I didn't forget how to walk, Heeseung,” you giggled, keeping your hands secure at his shoulder as he cradled you into the tub.
“I know,” he laughed, helping you get your top off and over your head as the water ran in the background, “I just didn't want my precious wife accidentally stepping on any of those grapes I dropped earlier...”
It went without saying that Heeseung had always been a loser, but he was your loser, and that fact alone was the bandaid that covered up every preconceived notion of him you ever created in the back of your mind…
You didn’t see him the way other people saw him… as the former man whore, troublemaker, or hopeless goof from high school, ‘destined’ to never change…
You saw him as the adorable nerd who accepted you for the things you saw as flaws… as the guy who still wore character themed PJ’s every once in a while that you now get to call “Hubby,” “lovey,” and “mine…”
⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who read this little fic of mine, which actually concludes DAY 1 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!
fake bf!Heeseung x being stalked!reader - You kissed Heeseung to escape your stalker’s gaze—but the danger didn’t end there. One fake kiss, and suddenly everything is terrifyingly real.
The fluorescent lights of the subway car flicker overhead, casting an unflattering glow across the half-empty train. It's later than you'd usually be out on a weeknight, but your coworker's birthday drinks ran longer than expected. You check your phone: 11:43 PM. Only three more stops until home.
That's when you feel it—the unmistakable sensation of being watched.
You glance up from your phone, trying to appear casual as your eyes scan the car. And there he is. Third seat from the door. A man in his thirties, wearing a dark jacket despite the warm spring evening, staring directly at you. When your eyes meet, he doesn't look away. Instead, his lips curl into what might be considered a smile, if it weren't so utterly devoid of warmth.
You quickly look back down at your phone, heart rate accelerating. It's nothing, you tell yourself. Just another weird encounter in the city.
The train slows to a stop, doors sliding open. You remain seated, two more stops to go. From your peripheral vision, you see the man stand up. Relief washes over you—he's leaving. But instead of exiting, he simply moves to a seat closer to you. Your stomach drops.
When the doors close and the train lurches forward, you decide you're not waiting two more stops. You'll get off at the next station, find a busier platform, maybe even grab a taxi the rest of the way home. Anything to shake this feeling.
The next stop arrives. You stand quickly, moving toward the doors. As they open, you glance back—he's standing too. Following you.
Panic rises in your throat as you step onto the platform. It's nearly deserted at this hour, just a few late-night commuters waiting for trains going the opposite direction. You walk briskly toward the exit, the sound of footsteps behind you matching your pace.
That's when you see him—a young man leaning against a pillar, scrolling through his phone. He's striking even under the harsh station lights, with delicate features contrasted by sharp eyes and broad shoulders. Something about him radiates both gentleness and strength. You make a split-second decision.
You approach him quickly, heart pounding in your ears.
"Excuse me," you say softly, your voice shakier than you'd like. "Can you please pretend to be my boyfriend for a minute? There's someone following me."
He looks up from his phone, confusion crossing his face for only a moment before his eyes flick past you, assessing the situation with remarkable speed. His expression shifts to understanding, then determination.
"Of course, babe," he says loudly enough to be overheard, smoothly slipping his phone into his pocket. "I was wondering when you'd get here."
In one fluid motion, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours is startling but comforting.
"He's still watching," the stranger whispers against your hair. "Is that the guy? Black jacket, about five-nine?"
You nod almost imperceptibly.
"I'm Heeseung, by the way," he murmurs, maintaining the charade by playing with a strand of your hair.
"I'm Y/N," you whisper back.
You both stand there for a moment, locked in an embrace that feels both foreign and strangely safe. But you can still feel the stalker's eyes boring into your back.
"He's not buying it," Heeseung says quietly, his breath warm against your ear. Then, even softer: "Want me to kiss you? Might be more convincing."
Your eyes widen slightly, but the footsteps behind you seem to be getting closer. You nod again, bracing yourself.
Heeseung's hand gently tilts your chin upward. His eyes meet yours, silently asking one more time if this is okay. There's something unexpectedly tender in his gaze that makes your breath catch. Then he leans down, pressing his lips against yours.
The kiss is gentle at first, almost hesitant—the kiss of strangers playing a part. But as his arms tighten around you, something shifts. His lips move more confidently against yours, and you find yourself responding, your hands instinctively moving to his shoulders. For a brief moment, you forget about the man watching you, forget that this is all pretend. There is only the softness of Heeseung's lips and the steadiness of his hands at your waist.
When you finally break apart, you're both slightly breathless. Heeseung's eyes search yours for a moment before he looks past you, his expression hardening.
"He's still there," he says, voice lower now, a protective edge creeping in. "What's this guy's problem?"
The stalker stands several feet away, his stare unrelenting, suspicious. Clearly, your performance hasn't convinced him.
Something in Heeseung snaps. He steps slightly in front of you, shielding you with his body.
"What are you looking at?" he calls out, his voice echoing in the nearly empty station. "You need something?"
The man doesn't respond, just continues staring.
"What?" Heeseung's voice rises, anger evident. "You need more proof? Want me to fuck her in front of you too?"
You grab Heeseung's arm, both shocked and grateful for his protective fury. The few remaining commuters on the platform turn to stare.
The stalker finally breaks his gaze, muttering something under his breath before walking toward the exit. But the look he gives you before he turns away sends ice through your veins—this isn't over.
"Hey, are you okay?" Heeseung asks, turning back to you, his expression immediately softening. "Sorry if I went too far. I just couldn't stand the way he was looking at you."
"Thank you," you manage, suddenly aware that you're trembling. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here."
"Which way are you headed?" he asks, concern etched across his features.
"I'm two stops down, but I think I'll just get a taxi now."
"I'll wait with you," he says firmly. "Or I can ride with you the rest of the way, if you want."
As you both head toward the exit, you feel Heeseung's hand gently rest against the small of your back—a protective gesture that makes you feel safer than you have all night.
Neither of you notice the stalker watching from the shadows as you leave the station together, his eyes narrowed with suspicion and something more dangerous simmering beneath.
-
The taxi ride is quiet, the silence broken only by the occasional direction you give the driver. Heeseung sits beside you, a respectful distance between you now, but his presence remains solid and reassuring. The adrenaline from earlier is beginning to wear off, leaving you feeling drained and slightly embarrassed.
"I'm really sorry about all of this," you finally say, glancing over at him. In the dim light of the passing streetlamps, his profile looks almost ethereal. "I can't believe I dragged a complete stranger into my problems."
Heeseung turns to you, his expression earnest. "Don't apologize. That guy was seriously creepy. Anyone would have needed help."
"Not everyone would have helped the way you did," you point out. "Most people would have just walked away."
He shrugs, a small smile playing at his lips. "Well, I'm not most people."
The taxi pulls up to your apartment building, and you reach for your wallet, but Heeseung already has his card out.
"Please, let me," he insists, paying the driver before you can protest.
"You really don't have to—"
"Consider it my good deed for the day," he says with a gentle smile that makes something flutter in your chest.
You both step out onto the sidewalk, and suddenly you're not sure how to end this strange encounter. A handshake seems too formal after what you've shared, but anything more feels presumptuous.
"I'd feel better if I saw you safely to your door," Heeseung says, breaking the awkward moment. "If that's okay with you."
You nod, grateful for his consideration, and lead him into the building. The elevator ride to the fifth floor is quiet, but not uncomfortable. Standing next to him, you notice he smells faintly of sandalwood and something uniquely his own.
When you reach your apartment door, you turn to face him. "Thank you again. Seriously. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there."
"I'm just glad I could help," he says, and there's a sincerity in his voice that's rare these days.
An idea strikes you. "Wait here for a second?" You unlock your door and rush inside, grabbing a pen and scrap of paper from the entryway table. You quickly scribble your number on it, then return to the hallway where Heeseung waits patiently.
"Here," you say, offering him the paper. "In case you ever need someone to pretend to be your girlfriend." You attempt a joke to lighten the moment, though your heart beats a little faster as he takes the paper.
Heeseung looks at your number, then back at you, a slow smile spreading across his face. He pulls out his phone, inputs your number, and then you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.
"Now you have mine too," he says. "If you ever feel unsafe again or if that guy shows up, call me. Doesn't matter what time."
"I couldn't possibly—"
"I mean it," he interrupts, his expression turning serious. "Promise me you'll call if anything happens."
Something about the intensity in his eyes makes you nod. "I promise."
"Good." His expression softens again. "Get some rest, Y/N. It's been a long night."
"You too, Heeseung."
He waits until you're safely inside with the door locked before you hear his footsteps retreating down the hallway.
-
The next morning, the whole encounter feels almost like a dream. You might have convinced yourself it was, if not for the new contact in your phone: "Heeseung (Subway Hero)."
Life returns to normal surprisingly fast. You're more cautious on your commute, taking earlier trains and staying in crowded cars, but there's no sign of the creepy man. After a week passes without incident, you begin to relax.
You think about texting Heeseung several times. Your finger hovers over his contact information, but what would you say? "Thanks again for pretending to be my boyfriend and kissing me"? "Want to grab coffee sometime when I'm not being stalked"? Everything sounds awkward or presumptuous. He was just being kind to a stranger in trouble. You don't want to mistaken his kindness for interest.
So you don't text him, and the days pass.
Almost two weeks after the subway incident, you're working late at the office. The design project you've been assigned has a tight deadline, and you've lost track of time staring at your computer screen. When you finally look up, it's past 10 PM, and you're the only one left on your floor.
You pack up quickly, suddenly aware of how quiet and empty the building feels. In the elevator down to the lobby, you check your phone and see a notification for an email from an address you don't recognize.
The subject line reads: "I SAW YOU WITH HIM."
A chill runs down your spine. You should delete it without opening it, but morbid curiosity gets the better of you. The message contains just one line:
"I know he's not really your boyfriend."
Your hands start to shake. Below the text is a photo—of you and Heeseung leaving the subway station together that night. The angle suggests it was taken from a distance, from someone following behind.
As you step out of the elevator into the dimly lit lobby, another email notification appears. Same sender.
"You're alone now. Look up."
Your heart nearly stops. Slowly, you raise your head from your phone screen and scan the lobby. At first, you see nothing unusual—just the security desk (empty at this hour), the entrance doors, the row of potted plants along the wall.
Then a shadow moves near the entrance, and you see him. The man from the subway, watching you through the glass doors, that same cold smile on his face.
Without thinking, you step back into the elevator and frantically press the button for your floor. As the doors close, you see him moving toward the building entrance.
Your fingers tremble as you pull up Heeseung's contact. It's been two weeks. He probably doesn't even remember you. But you promised.
He answers on the second ring.
"Y/N?" His voice is alert, not groggy despite the hour. "Is everything okay?"
"He found me," you whisper, watching the elevator numbers climb. "The guy from the subway. He's here at my office building. He has pictures of us. He knows—he knows you're not really my boyfriend."
There's a brief silence, then Heeseung's voice comes through, calm but urgent. "Where exactly are you now?"
"In the elevator, going back up to my office. I don't think he can get past building security without a keycard, but he was right outside."
"Okay, listen to me. Go back to your office, lock the door if you can. What's the address?"
You tell him, surprised at how clearly you remember his address despite your panic.
"I'm leaving now. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Stay on the phone with me, okay?"
"Okay," you manage, stepping out of the elevator and hurrying down the hallway to your office. You lock the door behind you, then turn off the lights and move away from the windows. "I'm sorry to drag you into this again."
"Don't apologize," he says, and you can hear rustling in the background, the jingle of keys. "I told you to call if anything happened."
"I know, but—"
"Y/N," he interrupts gently. "I'm glad you called. I've been thinking about you anyway."
Despite everything, a small flutter of warmth spreads through your chest at his words.
"He thinks I'm your boyfriend?" Heeseung continues, and you hear a door slam shut on his end. "What are you going to do about this guy?"
"I don't know," you admit, sinking down beneath your desk, phone clutched to your ear like a lifeline. "I guess I should file a police report, but—"
Your sentence is cut short by another email notification. With dread, you open it to find another picture—this one of your office building, with a simple message: "I'll wait."
"Heeseung," you whisper, fear making your voice crack. "Please hurry."
-
"I'm five minutes away," Heeseung reassures you, his voice steady despite the sound of rapid footsteps on his end. "Stay where you are and keep talking to me."
You curl up tighter beneath your desk, eyes fixed on the locked office door. The building is eerily quiet at this hour—every distant sound making your heart race. Is that the elevator? Footsteps in the stairwell? Your imagination is turning every creak and hum of the building into a threat.
"Tell me about your day," Heeseung says suddenly.
"What?"
"Your day. What were you working on that kept you at the office so late?" His tone is deliberately casual, trying to distract you from the panic.
You take a shaky breath. "A design project for a new client. They're launching a sustainable clothing line and needed the branding finalized by tomorrow morning." Speaking helps—focusing on normal things makes the situation feel slightly less terrifying.
"You're a designer?" There's genuine interest in his voice.
"Graphic designer, yeah. What about you? What do you do when you're not rescuing strangers on the subway?" You attempt a weak joke.
There's a soft chuckle on the other end. "Music production, mostly. I work at a studio downtown."
"That sounds amazing," you say, briefly forgetting your fear. "Do you work with anyone I might know?"
"Maybe. I've worked with—" He cuts himself off. "I'm at your building now. Is there a security guard?"
"There should be, but I didn't see anyone when I was in the lobby."
"There's no one here now either," Heeseung says, his voice lower. "How do I get up to your floor?"
"You need a keycard for the elevator after hours," you explain, anxiety flooding back. "But wait—if there's no security guard, where did he go? And how would the stalker get in without a card?"
There's a moment of silence before Heeseung responds, his voice tight. "I don't know, but I don't like it. Is there another way up? A stairwell?"
"Yes, but it needs a keycard too—" You stop as another email notification appears. With trembling fingers, you open it.
The message contains just three words: "I'M INSIDE NOW."
"Heeseung," you whisper, terror making your voice almost inaudible. "He says he's inside the building."
"Shit," he mutters. Then, more decisively: "I'm going to try something. What floor are you on?"
"Seventh."
"Give me two minutes."
The line goes quiet except for the sound of Heeseung's breathing and occasional grunts of effort. You're about to ask what he's doing when you hear a distant alarm begin to wail.
"What's happening?" you ask.
"Fire alarm," Heeseung explains, slightly out of breath. "Building security will unlock automatically. I'm coming up the stairs now."
Relief washes over you—until you realize that if the security systems are overridden, there's nothing keeping the stalker from accessing your floor either.
As if reading your thoughts, Heeseung speaks again. "Stay hidden. I'll be there soon. Which office number?"
"705. It's at the end of the hallway on the right when you come out of the stairwell."
"Got it. Almost there."
You hear the sound of a door banging open through the phone, then rapid footsteps. A moment later, there's a gentle knock at your office door.
"Y/N? It's me."
You scramble out from under the desk and rush to the door, pressing your ear against it. "Heeseung?"
"It's me," he confirms. "Open the door."
Your hands shake as you unlock the door. The moment it opens, Heeseung slips inside, immediately locking it behind him. In the dim emergency lighting, you can see he's breathing hard, hair slightly damp with sweat—he must have run the entire way.
Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, the relief of seeing a friendly face overwhelming in your state of fear. He stiffens in surprise for just a moment before his arms wrap around you, holding you securely.
"Are you okay?" he murmurs against your hair.
You nod against his chest, embarrassed but unable to pull away just yet. His heartbeat is rapid beneath your ear, his body warm and solid—an anchor in the storm of your fear.
When you finally step back, you notice he's scanning the room, eyes alert and wary. "We should go. The fire department will be here soon because of the alarm, but I don't want to risk running into this guy."
"Okay," you agree, quickly gathering your belongings.
Heeseung peers out the office door, checking the hallway. "Clear. Let's go to the stairs—they're closer than the elevator."
He takes your hand as you hurry down the corridor, his grip firm and reassuring. At the stairwell door, he pauses, listening intently before pushing it open.
"Stay close," he instructs as you begin descending.
You're halfway between the fifth and fourth floors when a door slams somewhere below you. Heeseung freezes, pushing you gently against the wall, his body shielding yours. You both listen, hardly breathing.
Footsteps on the stairs—coming up.
Heeseung's eyes meet yours, his expression tense but determined. Silently, he gestures upward. You nod in understanding.
As quietly as possible, you both backtrack, climbing up instead of down. When you reach the eighth floor, Heeseung carefully opens the door, checking that the hallway is clear before pulling you through.
"We'll try the elevator on this floor," he whispers. "The alarm should have reset the security lockdowns."
The eighth floor is darker than yours, with only emergency exit signs providing dim red illumination. Heeseung keeps your hand firmly in his as you navigate to the elevator bank. He presses the call button, and you both watch anxiously as the numbers climb from the lobby.
The distant sound of a door opening makes you both tense. Heeseung positions himself slightly in front of you, his stance protective.
The elevator seems to take forever. Three... Four... Five...
You're about to protest when the elevator finally arrives with a soft chime. The doors slide open, and you both quickly step inside. Heeseung jabs the lobby button repeatedly, then the door close button.
As the doors begin to shut, you catch a glimpse of a figure at the end of the hallway—a man in a dark jacket. Your breath catches.
The doors close fully, and the elevator begins its descent.
"That was him," you whisper, leaning against the wall for support. "That was definitely him."
Heeseung's jaw tightens, a mixture of anger and concern crossing his features. "When we get to the lobby, we're going straight to my car. No stopping, okay?"
You nod, trying to calm your racing heart.
The elevator reaches the lobby, doors opening to reveal chaos. The fire alarm has drawn several security personnel and what looks like the beginning of a fire department response. In the confusion, you and Heeseung slip out relatively unnoticed, his arm around your waist guiding you swiftly through the crowd and out to the street.
"This way," he says, leading you to a sleek black car parked half on the curb—he must have been in a hurry when he arrived.
Once inside with the doors locked, you finally allow yourself to take a deep breath. Heeseung starts the engine but doesn't immediately drive away.
"Are you hurt at all?" he asks, turning to examine you with concern.
"No, I'm fine," you assure him, though your hands are still trembling. "Just scared."
He nods, reaching out to briefly squeeze your hand before putting the car in drive. "I'm taking you to my place," he says, pulling away from the curb. "I don't think it's safe for you to go home tonight."
Under normal circumstances, going to a near-stranger's apartment would set off all kinds of alarm bells. But nothing about this situation is normal, and the safety Heeseung represents outweighs any reservation you might have.
"Thank you," you say simply.
He glances in the rearview mirror frequently as he drives, checking that you're not being followed. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, leaving you feeling drained and slightly nauseous.
"I should call the police," you say after a few minutes of silence.
"Definitely," Heeseung agrees. "But let's get somewhere safe first."
His apartment turns out to be in a secure building with underground parking and a doorman—facts that provide immediate relief. Inside, the space is surprisingly homey: a modern open-concept layout with warm lighting and comfortable furnishings. A keyboard and small recording setup occupies one corner of the living area, confirming his earlier mention of music production.
"Make yourself at home," he says, gesturing to the couch. "I'll get you some water."
As he moves to the kitchen, you sink onto the sofa, the events of the night finally catching up to you. Your phone chimes with another email notification, and you nearly drop it in fear.
Heeseung notices your reaction, returning quickly with a glass of water. "Another message from him?"
You nod, unable to open it.
"May I?" he asks, holding out his hand for your phone.
You pass it to him, watching as he opens the email, his expression darkening as he reads.
"What does it say?" you ask, not sure you want to know.
Heeseung looks up, his eyes filled with protective anger. "He says he knows you're with me now. That you've 'chosen your side.' And that he'll be watching both of us." He sets your phone down. "We're definitely calling the police. This is serious stalking."
While Heeseung contacts the authorities, you sip your water, trying to make sense of this nightmare. How did this happen? One random encounter on the subway has spiraled into a genuine threat to your safety. And Heeseung—a complete stranger two weeks ago—is now putting himself at risk to keep you safe.
When he finishes the call, he sits beside you on the couch, close enough that you can feel his warmth but not touching. "They're sending someone over to take your statement. They also advised documenting everything—all the messages, photos, any evidence of him following you."
You nod, staring down at your hands. "I'm so sorry for involving you in this."
"Hey," he says gently, waiting until you look up at him. "None of this is your fault. And I'm not sorry I helped you that night, even if it means being involved now."
"Why?" The question slips out before you can stop it. "Why would you do all this for someone you barely know?"
Heeseung is quiet for a moment, seemingly considering the question carefully. "I've seen what happens when people look the other way," he finally says. "My sister had a stalker in college. Not as extreme as this, but scary enough. People knew—her friends, her roommates—but no one really did anything. They thought it wasn't their problem." His voice hardens slightly. "I won't be that person. Not ever."
The personal revelation surprises you. "I'm sorry about your sister. Is she okay now?"
He nods. "She's fine. It eventually stopped, but it affected her for a long time. Made it hard for her to trust people." He meets your eyes. "That's why I want to help you end this now, before it gets worse."
His words wrap around you like a shield, and for the first time since you saw that man on the subway, you feel truly protected.
"Thank you," you say again, the words inadequate but sincere.
The police arrive about twenty minutes later—a female officer who takes your statement professionally and thoroughly. She confirms what Heeseung already said: document everything, file for a restraining order as soon as possible, and take precautions with your personal security.
"What about tonight?" you ask as she's preparing to leave. "Is it safe for me to go home?"
The officer hesitates. "We can have a patrol car drive by your residence periodically, but we don't have the resources for constant surveillance. Do you have someone who can stay with you? A friend or family member?"
Before you can answer, Heeseung speaks up. "She can stay here. I have a spare room, security building, doorman. She'll be safe."
The officer looks between the two of you. "That would certainly be safer than being alone," she agrees. "And it might be good to have someone with you for the next few days at least, until we can locate this individual."
After she leaves, a quiet falls over the apartment. You're exhausted but too wired to sleep, and the thought of imposing on Heeseung even more makes you uncomfortable.
"I can take you home if you'd prefer," he offers, reading your hesitation. "Or to a friend's place, or a hotel."
You consider the options, but the thought of being alone—or explaining this bizarre situation to a friend in the middle of the night—seems overwhelming. And a hotel doesn't offer the same security as Heeseung's building.
"If you really don't mind, staying here would make me feel safer," you admit. "Just for tonight. I can figure something else out tomorrow."
"I don't mind at all," he says, and there's such sincerity in his voice that you believe him. "Let me show you the guest room and find you something to sleep in."
The spare room is simple but comfortable, with a queen-sized bed and attached bathroom. Heeseung lends you a soft t-shirt and sweatpants that dwarf your frame but are clean and comfortable.
"Try to get some rest," he says, lingering in the doorway. "I'm right across the hall if you need anything. Anything at all."
"Thank you, Heeseung," you say, the words becoming something of a mantra between you. "For everything."
He smiles—a small, tired smile that still manages to reach his eyes. "Good night, Y/N."
After he leaves, you sit on the edge of the bed, overwhelmed by the events of the day. You should be terrified—and you are—but there's also a strange sense of security that comes from knowing Heeseung is just across the hall. A man who was a stranger two weeks ago has become your shield against a nightmare you never saw coming.
When you finally lay down, exhaustion quickly overtakes your racing thoughts. You fall asleep to the distant sound of Heeseung moving around the apartment, the knowledge of his presence a comfort in the darkness.
-
You wake to sunlight filtering through unfamiliar curtains and the smell of coffee. For a moment, disorientation grips you—until memories of the previous night come flooding back. The stalker, the chase through your office building, Heeseung's rescue, and now... his guest bedroom.
After using the bathroom and attempting to make yourself somewhat presentable, you venture out to the main living area. Heeseung is in the kitchen, back turned to you as he works at the counter. He's wearing a plain white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, his hair slightly rumpled from sleep.
He turns at the sound of your approach, offering a gentle smile. "Morning. How did you sleep?"
"Better than I expected," you admit. "Something smells amazing."
"Coffee and breakfast," he says, gesturing to the stove where eggs are cooking. "I figured you might be hungry."
The thoughtfulness of the gesture catches you off guard. "Thank you. Again."
He waves it off. "Sit. Eat. Then we can figure out what to do next."
Over breakfast, you both discuss the situation more calmly than was possible the night before. You need clothes and personal items from your apartment, but the thought of going there alone makes your stomach clench.
"I'll go with you," Heeseung offers immediately. "And I still think you should stay here for a few days, at least until the police locate this guy."
"I can't impose on you like that," you protest.
"You're not imposing if I'm offering," he counters. "Look, this guy has clearly fixated on both of us now. It makes sense to stick together." His expression softens. "Plus, I'd worry about you being alone."
The admission brings unexpected comfort. "Okay," you agree. "Just until they find him."
After breakfast, Heeseung insists on driving you to your apartment to collect some essentials. The daylight makes the situation feel less threatening, but you're still jumpy, constantly checking over your shoulder. Heeseung stays close, his presence a constant reassurance.
At your apartment, everything looks normal—no signs of disturbance or intrusion. You quickly pack a bag with clothes and necessities for a few days, while Heeseung checks each room, making sure the space is secure.
"All clear," he reports when you finish packing. "But we should let your building manager know what's happening. And you might want to consider getting your locks changed, just in case."
The practicality of his advice grounds you. This isn't just a nightmare to be endured; there are concrete steps you can take to protect yourself.
Back at Heeseung's apartment, you call your boss to explain the situation (leaving out some of the more frightening details) and arrange to work remotely for a few days. Heeseung does the same, rescheduling his studio sessions to work from home instead.
"You don't have to do that," you tell him. "I'll be fine here alone."
"I know," he says. "But I'd rather be here. Just in case."
The rest of the day passes in a strange bubble of temporary safety. You work on your laptop from his dining table while he tinkers with music tracks at his home studio setup. Occasionally, one of you will make coffee or suggest ordering food, and you find yourself settling into an easy rhythm despite the bizarre circumstances.
In the evening, after dinner (takeout from a nearby Thai place), you sit together on the couch, the TV playing a movie neither of you is really watching. Your mind keeps returning to the danger lurking outside—and to the stranger who has become your protector.
"Can I ask you something?" you finally say.
Heeseung turns to you, giving you his full attention. "Of course."
"That night on the subway platform... when you helped me..." You hesitate, searching for the right words. "Why did you believe me right away? Most people would have thought I was crazy."
He's quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "The fear in your eyes was real," he finally says. "I've seen that kind of fear before. It's not something people fake." His gaze is steady, sincere. "And honestly, what did I have to lose by helping? If you were making it up, the worst that happens is I feel a little awkward for a few minutes. But if you weren't..." He shrugs. "Then maybe I could help keep someone safe."
His simple explanation touches something deep inside you. In a world where so many people turn away from others' problems, Heeseung's instinct was to step forward, to protect.
"Well," you say softly, "you definitely did that. Twice now."
A small smile tugs at his lips. "And I'll keep doing it until this is over."
Your phones sit side by side on the coffee table, both silent for now. But you know the stalker will contact you again. And when he does, you won't be facing him alone.
In this moment of quiet, with the city lights twinkling beyond the windows and Heeseung's steady presence beside you, you allow yourself to breathe. The danger hasn't passed, but for now, in this space, you're safe. And that's enough.
-
The following day, a detective calls to update you on the case. Heeseung sits next to you on the couch as you put the call on speaker, his presence steady and reassuring.
"We've identified the individual from the security footage," the detective explains, her voice professional but tinged with concern. "His name is Lee Minhyuk. He has a history of stalking behavior."
You feel Heeseung tense beside you. "What kind of history?" he asks.
There's a brief pause on the line. "I don't want to alarm you unnecessarily, but you should both be aware that this isn't his first fixation. He's been linked to at least two similar cases in the past three years."
"And?" you prompt, sensing there's more she isn't saying.
"And in the most recent case, the situation escalated to physical violence." The detective's voice becomes more serious. "The victim had a restraining order in place, but Minhyuk violated it. She was hospitalized with non-life-threatening injuries. He served eight months before being released on good behavior."
Your blood runs cold. Beside you, Heeseung's jaw clenches, his eyes darkening with anger and concern.
"So what happens now?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear churning in your stomach.
"We're actively looking for him," the detective assures you. "We have units checking his known addresses and places of employment. But until we locate him, you need to take every possible precaution."
"What about police protection?" Heeseung asks.
Another pause. "Unfortunately, we don't have the resources to provide continuous protection at this time. We can increase patrols in both your neighborhoods, but—"
"That's not good enough," Heeseung interrupts, frustration evident in his voice. "If this guy is violent—"
"I understand your concern," the detective says. "Believe me, I do. But the best advice I can give you right now is to stay together, maintain awareness of your surroundings, continue documenting any contact he makes, and call 911 immediately if you believe you're in danger."
After hanging up, you sit in stunned silence. The abstract threat has suddenly become terrifyingly concrete—a real person with a name and a violent history.
"Y/N?" Heeseung says softly, concern etched across his features. "Talk to me."
"I didn't think it would be this serious," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "A violent stalker? How is this happening to me?"
Heeseung reaches for your hand, his warm fingers wrapping around yours. "We'll get through this," he says firmly. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you. We just need to be careful until they find him."
You nod, but the detective's words echo in your mind: escalated to physical violence... hospitalized... released on good behavior.
That night, despite Heeseung's reassurances and the security of his apartment, sleep eludes you. You toss and turn in the guest bed, startling at every small noise in the building. When exhaustion finally pulls you under, your dreams are plagued by shadows and footsteps and cold, unblinking eyes watching you from dark corners.
You wake screaming sometime after 3 AM, drenched in sweat, the nightmare still vivid in your mind. In it, the stalker—Minhyuk—had broken into the apartment and was standing over the bed, watching you sleep, something glinting in his hand.
Before you can fully register what's happening, the bedroom door bursts open and Heeseung is there, hair disheveled from sleep but eyes alert and searching for danger.
"Y/N? What's wrong?" he asks urgently, scanning the room before rushing to your side.
"Nightmare," you manage, still trembling. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to wake you."
The tension in his shoulders eases slightly, but concern remains etched across his features. "Don't apologize," he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Do you want to talk about it?"
You shake your head, embarrassed by your reaction despite the lingering terror. "It was just a bad dream."
Heeseung studies your face for a moment, clearly unconvinced. "Would it help if I stayed? Just until you fall back asleep?"
The offer is so sincere, so free of judgment, that tears spring to your eyes. You nod, unable to voice how desperately you don't want to be alone right now.
Without another word, Heeseung moves to sit with his back against the headboard. After a moment's hesitation, you lay back down, surprised by how much safer you feel with him there. He doesn't touch you, but the sound of his steady breathing eventually lulls you back to sleep.
The pattern repeats the next night, and the next. Each time, the nightmares grow more vivid, more terrifying. Each time, you wake calling Heeseung's name, and each time he's there within moments, a solid presence against the fear.
The third morning after another disrupted night, you find Heeseung already in the kitchen when you emerge from the guest room. Dark circles shadow his eyes—clear evidence of his own interrupted sleep—but he smiles warmly when he sees you.
"Morning," he says, sliding a mug of coffee across the counter. "Just how you like it. Two sugars, splash of milk."
You're touched that he's noticed this detail about you in such a short time. "Thank you. I'm really sorry about last night. Again."
He waves away your apology. "Stop apologizing. It's not your fault."
"But you're exhausted too," you point out, gesturing to the faint shadows under his eyes.
Instead of denying it, Heeseung reaches into a cabinet and pulls out a colorful box. "Nothing that sugar can't fix," he declares with a mischievous grin, presenting the box of Frosted Flakes with a flourish. "Breakfast of champions."
The childish delight on his face as he pours two bowls is so incongruous with the somber situation that you can't help but laugh. "Seriously? Frosted Flakes?"
"Don't judge," he says, defending his choice with mock seriousness. "Tony the Tiger has gotten me through some tough times."
You accept the bowl he offers, taking a bite and exaggerating your enjoyment. "Mmm, you're right. They're grrrreat!"
Your tiger impression is terrible, and it makes Heeseung burst into laughter, nearly choking on his cereal. The sound is bright and genuine, lightening the heaviness that's hung between you for days. For a moment, it's easy to forget why you're here—that somewhere out there, someone is looking for you.
"So," Heeseung says when you've both calmed down, "I was thinking we could watch a movie tonight. Something completely mindless and happy. No suspense, no thriller elements, nothing remotely scary."
"That sounds perfect," you admit.
That evening, after you both finish work, Heeseung makes good on his promise. He builds what can only be described as a pillow fortress on the couch, complete with every cushion and throw blanket in the apartment. He microwaves popcorn and pulls out an assortment of candy that would make a dentist cry.
"What are you, twelve?" you tease, but you're smiling as you say it.
"Sometimes," he admits with a shrug. "Being an adult is overrated."
You settle into the nest of pillows as he scrolls through options on the TV. He ends up selecting an animated film about dragons that's clearly meant for children but is visually stunning enough for adults to enjoy. As the movie plays, you find yourself relaxing more than you have in days, occasionally stealing glances at Heeseung as he laughs unreservedly at the funny parts.
When the movie ends, neither of you makes a move to get up right away. The comfortable silence stretches between you, broken only when Heeseung reaches for his phone.
"Oh God," he says suddenly, covering his mouth to suppress his laughter. "Have you seen this?"
He passes you his phone, showing a ridiculous viral video of a cat walking dramatically to music. It's silly and inconsequential, but soon you're both laughing uncontrollably, sharing more videos and memes back and forth, your shoulders pressed together as you huddle over the small screen.
For the first time since this nightmare began, you feel normal. Just two people enjoying each other's company, finding joy in the absurd corners of the internet. The shared laughter creates a bubble around you both, keeping the fear at bay, if only temporarily.
Eventually, the hour grows late, and you can't suppress a yawn.
"Time for bed," Heeseung says, noticing immediately. Something flickers across his face—concern, perhaps, knowing what sleep has meant for you these past few nights.
On the fourth night, after a particularly brutal nightmare where you couldn't scream, couldn't move as Minhyuk approached, Heeseung makes a gentle suggestion over breakfast.
"Maybe it would help if I just stayed in the room from the start," he offers, his voice careful, non-presumptuous. "The guest bed is plenty big enough. I can sleep on top of the covers if that makes you more comfortable."
The idea of not being alone with your fears is so appealing that you agree without hesitation. "Are you sure you don't mind? I feel like I'm completely disrupting your life."
"You're not," he says simply. "I'd rather be here than listen to you suffer alone."
That evening, a new kind of awkwardness creeps in as bedtime approaches. You've never prepared for sleep knowing Heeseung would be there from the beginning. The nighttime routine you've developed over the past few days—brushing teeth side by side at the dual bathroom sinks, moving around each other with careful politeness—suddenly feels different, charged with awareness.
"I'll give you privacy to change," Heeseung says, retreating from the guest room after retrieving what he needs for the night.
When he returns fifteen minutes later, hair damp from a shower and wearing a soft t-shirt and sweatpants, you've already changed into the pajamas you borrowed from him (a t-shirt so large it reaches mid-thigh and a pair of shorts with a drawstring pulled tight). You're sitting cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through your phone, trying to appear casual though your heart beats a little faster at the sight of him.
"I found something," he says, holding up a small bottle. "Lavender spray for the pillows. My sister swears by it for better sleep." He looks suddenly self-conscious. "It's probably silly—"
"No, it's... that's really thoughtful," you interrupt, genuinely touched by the gesture.
He approaches the bed hesitantly. "May I?"
You nod, and he lightly mists the pillows with the fragrant spray. The gentle scent fills the air, surprisingly comforting.
"And I have one more thing," he adds, reaching into his pocket and producing a small portable speaker. He places it on the nightstand and connects his phone. Soft piano music begins to play, quiet enough to not be distracting. "I use this when I can't turn my brain off after a long day in the studio."
The care he's putting into making you comfortable brings a lump to your throat. "Heeseung, you didn't have to do all this."
He shrugs, a shy smile playing at his lips. "I want you to actually sleep tonight."
You both settle into the bed, Heeseung on top of the covers as promised, you underneath them. Despite the physical barrier of the duvet between you, there's an intimacy to sharing this space intentionally, rather than him rushing in after a nightmare has already claimed you.
"Good night, Y/N," he says softly, reaching to turn off the lamp.
"Good night, Heeseung," you reply, the lavender scent and gentle music already making your eyelids heavy.
You sleep better that night—not perfectly, but the nightmares, when they come, are less intense. Heeseung's presence seems to anchor you, giving your subconscious something to hold onto when the fear threatens to drag you under.
The next morning, you wake to find Heeseung already gone, the side of the bed where he slept neatly made. For a moment, disappointment washes over you until the smell of coffee draws you to the kitchen.
"Perfect timing," he says when he sees you, sliding a plate of toast and scrambled eggs across the counter. "I was just about to come wake you."
"You didn't have to cook," you say, though your stomach growls appreciatively at the sight of the food.
"I didn't mind. Besides, you slept past nine. I was starting to worry you were hibernating." His teasing smile makes the kitchen feel warmer somehow.
Over the next few days, a new rhythm emerges. During daylight hours, you share the apartment comfortably, each working on your respective projects but coming together for meals and breaks. You learn that Heeseung is meticulous about some things (the organization of his music equipment) and charmingly chaotic about others (the state of his sock drawer). He learns that you're grumpy before coffee but surprisingly cheerful during thunderstorms.
Small rituals develop without discussion. Morning coffee prepared just the way you like it waiting for you when you wake up. Evening walks around the secure courtyard of his building, his hand finding yours whenever you pass through a shadowy area. Movie nights where neither of you watches the screen as much as you share childhood stories or debate the merits of different ice cream flavors.
At night, you continue to share the bed, the arrangement becoming less awkward with each passing evening. Your bedtime routine evolves into something almost domestic—Heeseung reading a book while you finish an email, you applying lotion to your hands while he sets the alarm, both of you gravitating to your respective sides of the bed with increasing comfort.
One night, as you're both getting ready for sleep, Heeseung emerges from the bathroom wearing a ridiculous sheet mask that makes him look like a cartoon character.
"What on earth is that?" you ask, unable to contain your laughter.
"Skin care is important," he says with exaggerated seriousness, his voice slightly muffled by the mask. "This one makes me look like a panda. There's a tiger one too if you want to join me."
"Absolutely not," you declare, still giggling.
"Your loss," he shrugs, before lifting his phone. "Wait, this requires documentation."
He sits beside you on the bed, holding up his phone to take a selfie. You try to duck away, but his arm catches you around the shoulders, pulling you into the frame. "Say cheese!"
"I am not posing with you looking like that!" you protest, but you're laughing too hard to resist properly.
He snaps several photos in quick succession, capturing your failed attempts to escape and your helpless laughter. When he shows you the results, you have to admit they're hilarious—Heeseung looking serene in his panda mask while you're caught mid-laugh, head thrown back, joy written across your features.
"Delete those," you demand without any real heat.
"No way," he replies, holding the phone out of your reach. "These are artistic masterpieces."
You make a grab for the phone, but he's quicker, holding it high above his head. What follows is a playful tussle that ends with you both breathless with laughter, the momentary physical contact feeling natural rather than forced or awkward.
Later, when you're both settled in bed, lights off and the now-familiar lavender scent surrounding you, Heeseung speaks softly in the darkness.
"It was good to hear you laugh like that," he says.
You turn toward his voice, though you can only make out his silhouette in the dim light filtering through the curtains. "It felt good to laugh," you admit. "Thank you for... all of this. For making this situation somehow bearable."
"You don't have to thank me," he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "Besides, now I have blackmail material with those photos."
You swat blindly in his direction, your hand connecting with what feels like his shoulder. He chuckles, the sound warming you from the inside.
By the sixth day of your stay, with no word from the police about Minhyuk's whereabouts, your new routine has solidified. During the day, you both work from the apartment, occasionally sharing meals or brief conversations. In the evenings, you watch movies or talk, carefully avoiding discussion of the situation unless there are new developments. And at night, you sleep in the same bed, the space between you a boundary neither has crossed.
Until tonight.
Something wakes you—not a nightmare this time, but some small sound or shift in the atmosphere. The digital clock on the nightstand reads 2:17 AM. The room is dark except for the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the curtains.
That's when you feel it. The sensation of being watched.
Your eyes dart to the window, heart hammering in your chest. The logical part of your brain knows it's impossible—you're on the twelfth floor, the windows don't open more than a few inches, and there's no balcony or fire escape. But in the shadows cast by the streetlights, every flutter of the curtain looks like movement, every reflection like eyes staring back.
You close your eyes tightly, telling yourself it's just paranoia, just your mind playing tricks in the aftermath of so much stress and fear. But when you open them again, the feeling intensifies. You swear you can see a figure in the darkest corner of the room, watching, waiting.
A sob builds in your throat, but you suppress it, not wanting to wake Heeseung again, not wanting to be more of a burden than you already are. Silent tears slide down your cheeks as you stare at the ceiling, trying to control your breathing, trying to convince yourself you're safe.
But your body betrays you. A small tremor runs through you, then another, until you're shaking with the effort of containing your fear.
Beside you, Heeseung stirs. You feel him turn toward you, hear the soft intake of breath as he realizes you're awake and crying.
"Y/N?" His voice emerges from the darkness, heavy with sleep and barely above a whisper. "What's happening?"
You can hear how deeply he'd been sleeping in the thickness of his words, the way he has to clear his throat softly after speaking. The digital clock reads 2:17 AM.
"I'm sorry," you whisper back, voice breaking. "I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."
There's a rustling of sheets as he shifts beside you. Even in the darkness, you can sense him fighting against the pull of sleep, forcing his eyes to stay open for your sake.
"No, s'okay," he mumbles, words slightly slurred. You feel his hand fumbling across the covers, searching until his fingers find yours. His touch is warm, clumsy with drowsiness. "You're shaking," he observes, concern gradually replacing the grogginess in his voice. "Another nightmare?"
You shake your head, though you're not sure if he can see the gesture in the darkness. "Not exactly. I just... I can't stop feeling like someone's watching me. Like he's here, somehow."
Heeseung makes a soft sound of understanding. You hear him yawn, then feel the mattress dip as he pushes himself up to sitting position. He reaches for the bedside lamp, missing it the first time, his movements slow and uncoordinated. On the second attempt, he manages to switch it on.
The warm glow reveals his face, softened with sleep. His hair is completely disheveled, sticking up at odd angles. One cheek bears the imprint of his pillow, and his eyes are heavy-lidded, struggling to stay fully open. Despite his obvious exhaustion, there's nothing but patient concern in his expression as he blinks slowly, trying to focus on you.
"It's just us," he says softly, his voice a comforting rumble in the quiet room. "Just you 'n me here. You're safe."
He rubs at his eyes with the heel of his palm, clearly fighting the heaviness of sleep still clinging to him. The gesture is so innocent, so childlike, that it momentarily distracts you from your fear.
"I know it's irrational," you say, wiping at your tears. "But my brain won't stop. I can't turn it off."
Heeseung's eyes drift closed for a moment before he catches himself, snapping them back open with visible effort. He studies your face, his own expression thoughtful despite the sleep that keeps trying to reclaim him. His eyelids flutter, heavy, but he persists, present with you even as his body begs for rest.
"Can I..." he begins, then pauses to stifle another yawn. "Can I try something? To help distract your mind?"
There's such sincerity in his sleepy determination to help you that you find yourself nodding, willing to try anything to escape the endless loop of fear—and to allow him to go back to sleep.
"Close your eyes," he says, his voice a gentle murmur.
You comply, though a small part of you tenses at the thought of not being able to see any potential threats.
"Focus on my voice," Heeseung continues, his tone soothing despite the drowsiness that makes his words flow together like honey, slow and sweet. "Nothing else matters right now. Just this room..." He yawns again, soft and unguarded. "Just this moment."
The bed shifts as he moves closer, his movements languid with fatigue. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, sense his protective presence drawing nearer despite how desperately his body must be yearning to return to sleep.
You try to follow his instructions, concentrating on the low timbre of his voice, the warmth of his hand still holding yours.
"Y/N," he says, his voice closer now. "Is it okay if I kiss you?"
Your eyes fly open in surprise, meeting his serious gaze. There's concern there, and something else—a softness that makes your breath catch.
"To distract your mind," he explains quietly. "Give it something else to focus on besides fear."
The idea is so unexpected, so far from anything you'd anticipated, that it cuts through the panic clouding your thoughts. You find yourself nodding before you've fully processed the request.
Heeseung moves closer, the space between you disappearing as he gently cups your cheek with his free hand. "Tell me to stop if it doesn't help," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin.
Then his lips meet yours, soft and questioning at first, giving you every opportunity to pull away. But instead of retreating, you find yourself responding, your body instinctively leaning into the contact, seeking comfort and connection.
When his tongue traces the seam of your lips, a soft "mmm" vibrates from his chest—a sound so quietly pleased it makes your stomach flip. You part your lips instinctively, and the moment his tongue slides against yours, a low, satisfied hum rumbles from his throat.
"Is this—" you try to speak, but his tongue sweeps deeper, stealing your words, your thoughts, your very ability to form sentences.
His kiss grows bolder, more insistent, and your brain begins to short-circuit with each stroke of his tongue. The fear that had been cycling through your mind evaporates under the wet heat of his mouth. He tastes faintly of toothpaste and something uniquely him, and when he gently sucks on your bottom lip, he makes another sound—a soft "hmm" that shoots straight down your spine.
You pull back slightly, trying to gather your thoughts. "I—" But that's all you manage before he chases your lips, recapturing them with gentle insistence, and whatever you were going to say dissolves into nothing.
"Shh," he whispers against your mouth, his breath hot against your sensitized lips. "Don't think."
And then he's kissing you again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding alongside yours in a rhythm that makes your toes curl. The hand in your hair tightens just enough to send a shiver through you, and a soft groan—"Mmh"—escapes him when you respond by pressing closer.
His teeth graze your lower lip, and suddenly your mind is completely empty, wiped clean of everything except the sensation of his mouth on yours, his hand in your hair, his body so close you can feel the heat radiating from him.
The kiss breaks for a moment, both of you breathing hard. You open your mouth to speak, to try to articulate how effectively he's scattered your thoughts, but all that comes out is a breathy "I—you—" before words fail you completely.
Heeseung's lips curl into a small smile, understanding in his eyes. "Not thinking anymore?" he asks softly.
You shake your head, unable to string together a coherent sentence. Your brain has turned to absolute mush, every thought process suspended in the warm haze he's created.
"Good," he whispers, and then his lips are on yours again, the gentle scrape of his teeth followed by the soothing slide of his tongue making you gasp. He makes a sound halfway between a sigh and a moan—"Aahh"—when your fingers curl into the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him closer.
Time loses all meaning as he kisses you again and again, each one melting into the next until you're not sure where one ends and another begins. Sometimes gentle and exploring, sometimes deeper and more intense, but always with that same effect—emptying your mind until there's nothing but sensation.
When he finally pulls back, his breathing uneven, pupils dilated in the dim light, you try once more to speak. "That was—" But the words won't come, your brain still offline, thoughts scattered like confetti.
"Did it help?" he asks, his voice rougher now, lower.
You nod, surprised to find that forming words feels like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. "My—" you start, then swallow and try again. "Brain... empty," is all you manage to articulate, gesturing vaguely at your head.
A smile touches his lips, genuine and slightly pleased. "Good," he says simply, his thumb brushing your lower lip, still sensitive from his attention. The small touch sends another wave of blankness washing through your mind.
He starts to move back to his side of the bed, and you make a small sound of protest, hand reaching out to stop him. Again, you try to speak, to ask him to stay close, but all that comes out is a breathy "Don't—" before words fail you once more.
Understanding flickers in his eyes. He settles beside you, closer this time, one arm wrapping around your waist as you turn toward him. The position brings your faces close together, your breath mingling in the small space between you.
"Better?" he asks.
"Much better," you admit.
He kisses you again, slower this time, more deliberate. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, then his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. Each kiss blurs the edges of your thoughts more, until your mind is blissfully, wonderfully blank—no fear, no stalker, no danger. Just Heeseung, his lips on yours, his arms around you, making you feel safer than locked doors or security systems ever could.
When exhaustion finally begins to reclaim you, Heeseung presses one last gentle kiss to your forehead. "Sleep," he murmurs. "I'm right here."
And for the first time in days, you drift off without fear, your head tucked against his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm in your ear—a constant reminder that you're not alone.
The nightmares don't come again that night.
-
Sunlight filters through the curtains when you wake the next morning. For the first time in days, you've slept through the night without nightmares. The space beside you is empty, but the sheets still hold the faint warmth of Heeseung's body. You stretch, a strange mixture of embarrassment and comfort washing over you as memories of the previous night return—his lips on yours, the way your mind had emptied of everything but sensation, how easily you'd fallen asleep afterwards.
The sound of movement in the kitchen draws you from the bed. You brush your teeth and attempt to tame your sleep-rumpled hair before venturing out, unsure what to expect after crossing such an intimate boundary with someone who was a stranger just a week ago.
Heeseung stands at the counter, back to you, humming softly as he measures coffee grounds. He's wearing a faded t-shirt and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, his hair still mussed from sleep. The scene is so domestic, so normal, that for a moment you forget why you're here—that somewhere out there, someone is looking for you with dangerous intent.
He turns at the sound of your approach, a soft smile spreading across his face. No awkwardness, no regret, just warmth.
"Morning," he says. "Sleep okay?"
You nod, relief washing over you at his easy manner. "Better than I have in days."
He pushes a mug of coffee across the counter—already prepared the way you like it. The simple gesture of remembrance makes your chest tighten with something you're not ready to name.
"Thanks," you say, taking a sip to hide whatever might be showing on your face. "For the coffee. And for... last night."
Heeseung's expression softens, understanding in his eyes. "You don't have to thank me for that."
An almost comfortable silence settles between you as you both drink your coffee, the events of last night hanging in the air—acknowledged but not discussed.
"I thought I'd make us a real breakfast," you finally say, needing to do something, to contribute somehow to this strange partnership that's formed. "Since you've been cooking for me all week."
"You don't have to—"
"I want to," you interrupt, already moving toward the refrigerator. "It's the least I can do."
Heeseung watches with amusement as you examine the contents of his fridge. "What did you have in mind?"
"How do you feel about omelets? You have vegetables that need to be used."
"Omelets sound perfect," he says, leaning against the counter as you gather ingredients.
The simple task of cooking is grounding. You wash and chop bell peppers, onions, and mushrooms, concentrating on the steady rhythm of the knife against the cutting board. Heeseung moves around you, setting the table, occasionally brushing against you in the small kitchen. Each brief contact sends a small jolt through you—not unpleasant, just heightened awareness.
You're halfway through dicing an onion when a notification sound from your phone breaks the peaceful bubble. Your hand falters, the knife slipping slightly. It's probably nothing—an email from work, a news alert, anything—but your heart instantly accelerates, your mind immediately jumping to the worst possibility.
Heeseung notices the change immediately. "Hey," he says gently. "Want me to check it?"
You nod, hating how easily your calm has been shattered, how quickly fear reclaims its hold. Heeseung picks up your phone from the counter, checks the screen, and his shoulders relax.
"It's just an email from someone named Sarah. Subject line says 'Project Updates.'"
Relief weakens your knees. Just work. Not him.
But the damage is done. Your hands have begun to tremble, and the vegetables in front of you blur slightly as your mind slips back into the spiral of fear. What if he figures out where Heeseung lives? What if he's watching the building right now? What if—
"Y/N." Heeseung's voice, closer now. You didn't notice him move, but suddenly he's right behind you, his chest nearly touching your back. "You're shaking."
"I'm fine," you lie, but the knife trembles visibly in your grip.
Heeseung gently removes the knife from your hand, setting it safely on the cutting board. Then his hands are on your shoulders, warm and steadying, turning you to face him. You expect to see pity in his eyes, but there's only warmth and understanding.
"You're not fine," he says softly. "And that's okay."
"I hate this," you whisper, frustration bleeding through the fear. "I hate that one notification can do this to me. I hate that he has this power."
Heeseung's hands slide from your shoulders to cup your face, his touch so gentle it makes your breath catch. "He doesn't have power over you," he says firmly. "This reaction—it's just your brain trying to protect you. It's not weakness."
You close your eyes, trying to believe him, trying to slow the racing of your heart. When you feel his breath against your cheek, your eyes flutter open to find his face much closer, his gaze questioning.
"Let me help you think about something else," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a register that immediately sends warmth spreading through your chest.
You nod, barely perceptible, and then his lips are at your jawline, not quite kissing, just brushing against the skin there. Your hands find his waist, needing something to anchor you as he traces a path down to your neck. When his mouth settles against the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, a small sigh escapes you.
The first gentle scrape of his teeth against your skin makes your thoughts scatter like startled birds. He follows it with the soothing warmth of his tongue, and your grip on his t-shirt tightens involuntarily.
"Is this okay?" he whispers against your skin.
"Yes," you breathe, tilting your head to give him better access. "Don't stop."
His lips curve into a smile against your neck, and then he's kissing the spot again, more purposefully this time. One hand slides into your hair, cradling the back of your head, while the other rests at the small of your back, drawing you closer until you're fully pressed against him.
The fear that had been building melts away with each press of his lips, each gentle scrape of teeth. Your mind empties of everything but the sensation of his mouth on your skin, the solid warmth of his body against yours, the faint scent of sleep and coffee that clings to him.
When he finds a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, your knees actually weaken. Heeseung notices, his arm tightening around your waist to support you.
"Still thinking about the notification?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear.
You try to respond, but your brain feels deliciously fuzzy, unable to form words. Instead, you shake your head, managing only a soft "Mmm" that makes him chuckle.
"Good," he says, pulling back slightly to look at your face. His pupils are dilated, lips slightly parted, and the sight sends another wave of warmth through you. "Because the eggs are getting warm and the vegetables are only half-chopped."
It takes a moment for his words to register through the pleasant haze in your mind. When they do, you glance back at the abandoned breakfast preparations on the counter and can't help but laugh. "Oh god, I forgot all about breakfast."
Heeseung's answering smile is bright enough to chase away the last lingering shadows of your fear. "Mission accomplished then."
You reluctantly step out of his embrace, turning back to the cutting board. "Let me finish this before I get distracted again."
"Distracted? By what?" he teases, but he keeps a respectful distance as you resume chopping, though his eyes never leave you.
The rest of the morning passes in a comfortable rhythm. You finish making breakfast together, moving around each other in the kitchen with growing ease. The omelets turn out perfect, and the simple accomplishment of creating a meal feels significant somehow—a small island of normalcy in the storm of the past week.
After breakfast, you settle in to work on your design project, which your boss has been understanding enough to let you complete remotely. Heeseung works on his music in the corner of the living room, occasionally humming or playing soft melodies on his keyboard. The peaceful coexistence reminds you of how it might feel to share a space with someone by choice, not necessity.
But reality intrudes every time you check your email or glance at your phone. Each notification makes your heart stutter, each unknown number that calls either of your phones sends a spike of adrenaline through your system. The stalker hasn't contacted you today, but his absence feels more like the calm before a storm than any true reprieve.
By late afternoon, your eyes are burning from staring at your laptop screen, and the tension in your shoulders has returned despite your best efforts to focus on work. You save your design file and stretch, rolling your neck to release the stiffness.
Heeseung glances up from his keyboard, noting your discomfort. "Break time," he announces decisively. "You've been hunched over that laptop for hours."
"I need to finish this project," you protest weakly, but your body betrays you with another stretch.
"The project will still be there after a proper break," he counters, standing and moving toward the kitchen. "I'm making tea. Then we're going to do something completely unproductive for at least an hour."
You find yourself smiling at his determined tone. "Is that so? What did you have in mind?"
"I'm thinking..." he pauses dramatically, filling the kettle with water, "a heated battle of Mario Kart."
The suggestion is so unexpected, so delightfully normal, that you laugh. "Mario Kart? Really?"
"Don't tell me you're scared of a little competition," he challenges, raising an eyebrow as he sets the kettle on the stove. "Unless you don't think you can beat me."
"Oh, it's on," you declare, grateful for the distraction. "I'll have you know I was the reigning champion among my college roommates."
"We'll see about that," he grins, the playful light in his eyes making him look younger, carefree—a glimpse of who he might be outside the strange circumstances that have thrown you together.
The promised hour turns into two as you both get increasingly competitive, shouting good-natured insults at each other when one pulls ahead or drops a particularly well-timed shell. You haven't laughed this much in days—maybe weeks—and the release of endorphins leaves you feeling lighter, the constant undercurrent of fear temporarily pushed to the background.
"That's it, I'm cutting you off," Heeseung declares after you beat him for the fifth time in a row. "You're too good at this. It's embarrassing for me."
You raise your controller in victory. "Told you I was the champion."
"Yeah, yeah," he concedes with a mock scowl that quickly melts into a genuine smile. "Hungry yet? I was thinking we could order in. Maybe that Thai place again?"
"Sounds perfect," you agree.
As Heeseung pulls up the restaurant's menu on his phone, you find yourself studying him—the way his brow furrows slightly in concentration, the gentle slope of his nose, the fullness of his lips. The lips that were on your neck this morning, that were on your mouth last night, emptying your mind of everything but sensation. Something warm unfurls in your chest at the memory.
He looks up suddenly, catching you watching him. Instead of looking away, embarrassed, you hold his gaze. A moment of silent understanding passes between you—an acknowledgment that whatever is happening between you isn't just about distraction or safety anymore.
Heeseung breaks the moment first, clearing his throat slightly. "The usual? Or did you want to try something different?"
"The usual is fine," you say, grateful for his tact in not drawing attention to the charged moment.
After placing the order, you both gravitate back to the couch, but with a new awareness of each other. You sit closer than necessary, your thigh just barely touching his. When he reaches for the remote to turn on the TV, his arm brushes yours, and neither of you moves away from the contact.
He finds a cooking competition show that requires minimal attention, and you settle in to watch, the domestic scene surreal in its normalcy. At some point, his arm drapes over the back of the couch behind you, not quite touching but close enough that you can feel his warmth.
"This is nice," you say after a while, the words slipping out without conscious thought.
Heeseung glances at you, his expression softening. "Yeah," he agrees quietly. "It is."
His fingers begin to play absently with a strand of your hair that falls over the couch. The gentle tugging sensation sends pleasant shivers down your spine, and you find yourself leaning subtly into the touch. Each brush of his fingers against your neck seems to short-circuit a different part of your brain until you're barely processing the show at all, focused instead on the points of contact between you.
The doorbell rings, startling you both. Heeseung's hand withdraws from your hair as he stands to answer it.
"That'll be the food," he says, but you notice he checks the peephole carefully before opening the door.
The reminder of the danger lurking outside your temporary sanctuary dampens your mood slightly. As you set up dinner on the coffee table, your phone buzzes with an incoming email. You freeze, fork halfway to your mouth, that familiar dread pooling in your stomach.
Heeseung notices your reaction and reaches for your phone. "Want me to check it?"
You nod, setting your food down, no longer hungry.
He scans the screen, relief washing over his features. "It's just a receipt from the Thai place." He hands the phone back to you. "We're okay."
But the moment has been tainted. The fear is back, hovering at the edges of your consciousness, threatening to overwhelm the fragile peace you've built throughout the day. You push your food around on your plate, appetite gone.
Heeseung watches you for a moment, then sets his own plate down. Without a word, he shifts closer to you on the couch, his thigh pressing firmly against yours now. When his hand comes up to tilt your chin toward him, you meet his eyes without resistance.
"He's not here," Heeseung says softly. "Right now, in this moment, it's just us. Okay?"
"Okay," you whisper, trying to believe him.
His thumb traces your lower lip gently, and your body responds instantly to the touch, a pleasant haziness beginning to cloud the edges of your fear. When he leans in, you meet him halfway, your lips finding his with growing familiarity.
This kiss is different from the others—not desperate or distracting, but slow and deliberate. His tongue slides against yours with unhurried confidence, and your mind begins to empty in that now-familiar way, thoughts evaporating like morning dew under the sun.
By the time he pulls back, you've forgotten what triggered your fear in the first place. Your food sits cooling on the coffee table, entirely unimportant compared to the warmth spreading through your body.
"Better?" he asks, his voice lower than usual.
You nod, offering a small smile. "You're getting good at that."
"At what?" There's a playful glint in his eye that makes your heart skip.
"Turning my brain off."
He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his expression growing more serious. "For as long as you need it," he promises.
The rest of the evening passes in comfortable closeness. You eventually return to your food, eating while leaning against each other on the couch. When you finally head to bed, the routine feels both new and familiar at once—brushing teeth side by side, Heeseung waiting in the hallway while you change, the brief moment of adjustment as you both settle into the bed.
But tonight, there's less space between you than before. He still stays on top of the covers while you slip underneath, but when you turn off the lamp, his hand finds yours in the darkness, fingers intertwining naturally.
"Good night, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice already heavy with approaching sleep.
"Good night, Heeseung," you reply, squeezing his hand gently.
You fall asleep with his fingers still linked with yours, the weight of his hand an anchor against the night terrors that might come. Your last thought before drifting off is that you've never felt safer than in this strange limbo—trapped by circumstances beyond your control, yet somehow freer than you've been in a long time.
The morning comes too quickly, sunlight streaming through a gap in the curtains and painting a stripe of gold across the bed. You wake to find yourself curled toward Heeseung, who's still asleep on his side facing you. In sleep, his face is completely relaxed, all traces of vigilance gone, making him look younger and impossibly vulnerable.
You allow yourself a moment to simply look at him, to memorize the sweep of his eyelashes against his cheeks, the slight part of his lips, the way his hair falls across his forehead. There's a strange ache in your chest at the sight—gratitude mixed with something deeper that you're not ready to name.
As if sensing your gaze, his eyes flutter open, landing immediately on your face. A slow, sleepy smile spreads across his features, unguarded and genuine.
"Morning," he mumbles, voice husky with sleep.
"Morning," you whisper back, strangely reluctant to break the peaceful bubble around you.
Neither of you moves for a long moment, content to exist in this quiet space between night and day, between danger and safety, between strangers and something more. Then reality intrudes in the form of his buzzing phone on the nightstand.
Heeseung rolls over with a groan, reaching for the device. As he checks the screen, his body goes rigid, sleep vanishing in an instant.
"What is it?" you ask, dread already pooling in your stomach.
He sits up, running a hand through his hair as he reads whatever message has appeared. When he turns back to you, his expression is carefully controlled, but you can see the tension around his eyes.
"It's from the detective," he says carefully. "Minhyuk was spotted near my building yesterday."
The fragile peace of the morning shatters completely. Fear rushes back in with a vengeance, your heart rate spiking so quickly you feel light-headed.
"He knows I'm here?" Your voice sounds distant to your own ears, panic rising like a tide.
Heeseung's hand finds yours, squeezing tightly. "We don't know that for sure. But the detective thinks we should consider relocating, just to be safe."
"Where would we even go?" The thought of leaving this apartment—the only place you've felt secure in days—sends another wave of anxiety through you.
"I might have an idea," Heeseung says, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "But first, breakfast. And coffee. Lots of coffee."
You nod, clinging to his steady presence as your mind races with terrifying possibilities. The tiny window of normalcy you'd carved out for yourselves is closing, and the world with all its dangers is forcing its way back in.
But as Heeseung helps you to your feet, his hand never leaving yours, you realize something important: whatever comes next, you're no longer facing it alone. And for now, that will have to be enough.
-
The detective's news about Minhyuk being spotted near Heeseung's building leaves you both on edge. Despite Heeseung's attempts at normalcy—breakfast, coffee, casual conversation—there's a new tension in the air, a heightened vigilance in the way he frequently checks his phone and glances at the door.
You try to work on your design project, but concentration is impossible. Your mind keeps conjuring images of Minhyuk watching the building, waiting, planning. By mid-afternoon, you've accomplished almost nothing, your anxiety a living thing crawling beneath your skin.
That's when your phone chimes with a new email notification.
You freeze, looking up to find Heeseung already watching you from across the room, his expression tense. Without a word, he crosses to where you sit, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder as you open the message.
The subject line is blank. The sender's address is unfamiliar—a string of random numbers and letters.
Your trembling finger taps the message open.
There's no text, just an image: a photograph of you and Heeseung standing in his kitchen from earlier that morning, clearly taken through the window of his apartment. The angle suggests it was shot from the building across the street. Below the photo is a single line of text:
"Glass won't protect you forever."
A strangled sound escapes your throat as the phone slips from your fingers, clattering to the floor. Heeseung snatches it up, his face darkening as he views the message.
"That's not possible," he mutters, moving quickly to the windows. "We're twelve floors up."
But as he pulls back the curtain to scan the building opposite, you feel it start—the tightening in your chest, the sudden inability to pull in enough air, the roaring in your ears. The room seems to tilt and spin around you.
"He can see us," you gasp, each breath becoming more difficult than the last. "He's watching us right now. He can see us right now."
Heeseung is at your side instantly, closing the curtains and guiding you away from the windows. "Y/N, breathe. You need to breathe."
But you can't. Your lungs refuse to cooperate, each shallow gasp more painful than the last. Dark spots dance at the edges of your vision, and your hands have gone numb, fingers tingling.
"He's going to—he's going to—" You can't even finish the thought, terror consuming every rational part of your mind.
"Y/N, look at me," Heeseung says firmly, his hands framing your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. "Focus on me. Just me."
He tries all the techniques that have worked before—deep breathing instructions, gentle reassurances, even pressing his lips to yours in that way that usually empties your mind. But the panic is too overwhelming, the fear too visceral. Even his kiss, which normally blanks your thoughts completely, barely makes a dent in the terror.
When he pulls back, your breathing is still erratic, tears streaming down your face. "It's not working," you choke out. "I can't—I can't turn it off. My mind won't stop."
The helplessness in Heeseung's eyes is devastating. "Tell me what you need. Anything."
"Make it stop," you beg, clutching at his shirt. "Please, I don't care what you have to do. Make me go dumb. Turn my brain off. I can't take it anymore."
His eyes darken at your words, understanding dawning in his expression. "Y/N..."
"Please," you whisper, desperation making your voice crack. "Fuck me until I can't think anymore. Until I can't remember my own name. I need to not be in my head right now. I need everything to just stop."
Heeseung's breath catches, his pupils dilating until there's just a thin ring of brown around the black. You watch the struggle play out on his face—desire warring with concern, restraint battling with the need to help you.
"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice lower than you've ever heard it. "Because if we do this... I want to help you, Y/N, more than anything. But I don't know if I'll be able to hold back once we start."
A sob escapes you, your hands fisting in his shirt. "I don't want you to hold back. I want you to make me forget everything but you." You're openly crying now, beyond shame or hesitation. "Please, Heeseung. Please make it all go away."
Something snaps in his expression. His hand slides into your hair, gripping firmly as he searches your eyes one last time. Whatever he sees there must convince him, because in the next moment, his mouth crashes against yours with none of the gentleness from before.
This kiss is different—hungry, almost desperate. His tongue pushes past your lips immediately, demanding rather than asking. One arm locks around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he walks you backward until your back hits the wall.
When his teeth sink into your lower lip, pain mingling with pleasure, your thoughts begin to splinter. His hand slips under your shirt, fingers splaying across your ribs, and your mind fragments further.
"Tell me to stop and I will," he says against your mouth, his breathing ragged. "At any point."
"Don't stop," you gasp. "Don't you dare stop."
His eyes meet yours, something primal and protective darkening his gaze. "I'm going to help you forget everything," he promises, his voice a rough whisper. "Everything but this."
Heeseung's eyes lock onto yours, dark with a raw intensity that makes your heart pound violently in your chest. His fingers twist harshly into your hair, pulling your head back sharply, fully exposing your vulnerable throat. His lips crash against your skin roughly, teeth biting deeply, marking you as his own with bruising kisses that send sparks of pain and pleasure shooting through your veins.
Your breathing is ragged, erratic, your entire body trembling beneath him. His other hand moves urgently down your body, gripping your waist tightly, fingertips pressing deep enough into your flesh to leave bruises, marking you unmistakably as his. You arch your body against his, desperate for more contact, craving the harsh intensity that only he can provide.
"Harder," you plead breathlessly, voice quivering with desperation. "Heeseung, please—use me, ruin me. Make me forget everything else."
A dark, feral growl tears from his throat, his eyes blazing dangerously as he claims your mouth roughly, tongue pushing aggressively past your lips. You moan helplessly into the kiss, surrendering completely to his dominating embrace, your nails scratching feverishly down his back, urging him to take you harder, deeper, to erase every lingering thought from your mind.
Heeseung breaks away, his breath hot and ragged as he trails searing kisses down your trembling body, biting roughly at your collarbone, chest, and stomach, each sharp nip igniting fiery jolts of pain and pleasure that tear gasps from your lips. You writhe helplessly beneath him, mind unraveling with each aggressive touch.
"Please," you beg desperately, voice nearly incoherent, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. "Heeseung, I’ll do anything. Anything you want, just—just make me forget."
A fierce, primal growl resonates from deep in his chest. "Anything?" he rasps darkly, his eyes blazing with barely controlled hunger. "You're going to regret saying that, sweetheart."
He pushes your thighs apart roughly, fully exposing you to his hungry gaze. His mouth descends aggressively, tongue plunging deep and fast, consuming you without mercy. You scream out sharply, hips bucking uncontrollably against him, your hands clutching desperately at his hair, pulling him even closer. Every intense, relentless movement of his tongue drives you closer to a devastating climax.
But before you reach that peak, he stops abruptly, leaving you sobbing in frustration. Your eyes plead desperately for release as you gasp, "Please—don't stop."
Heeseung positions himself swiftly over you, gripping your hips with bruising intensity, plunging deep and brutally into your aching core without warning, tearing a raw scream from your throat. He sets an unforgiving pace, each powerful thrust ruthlessly tearing apart your remaining thoughts, overwhelming you completely.
"Feel that?" he snarls roughly, hips pounding mercilessly against yours. "That's me claiming you. I'm going to fuck every last thought out of your head until you're nothing but mine."
His filthy, possessive words make your entire body shake uncontrollably, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cry out shamelessly for more. His grip tightens painfully on your wrists, pinning them roughly above your head as his hips drive harder, deeper, faster, each brutal thrust sending shockwaves through your body.
"You're mine," he growls harshly into your ear, teeth scraping your sensitive skin. "Say it."
"I'm yours," you choke out weakly, mind fracturing under the relentless assault of sensation.
"Louder," he demands fiercely, slamming even harder into you, movements ruthless and unyielding.
"I'm yours!" you scream, voice cracking from the intensity.
"Good girl," he snarls, rewarding you with deeper, fiercer thrusts, pushing your body to its absolute limits. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, just enough to make your vision blur, enhancing every overwhelming sensation tenfold.
Your body writhes violently beneath him, unable to form coherent words anymore, reduced to sobbing gasps and broken pleas. Heeseung continues relentlessly, his body driving into yours mercilessly until you're utterly consumed, your mind blanking entirely, eyes glazing over, unable to do anything but feel him, hear him, lose yourself completely to him.
"Cum for me," he commands roughly, his voice low and dangerously seductive. "Show me exactly how completely you belong to me."
Your body reacts instantly, violently, shattering beneath him into waves of devastating pleasure that tear through you, obliterating any remaining thought. You collapse, trembling uncontrollably, completely and utterly surrendered to him, mind blissfully empty, lost entirely in the overwhelming force of his claim.
Then his hands and mouth begin their relentless campaign to empty your mind completely, and thinking becomes impossible.
-
Hours later, you lie boneless and spent in Heeseung's arms, your mind blissfully, wonderfully blank. No fear, no anxiety, no thoughts of Minhyuk or danger or what comes next. Just the pleasant hum of your body and the steady rhythm of Heeseung's heartbeat beneath your ear.
He's been silent for a while, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your bare shoulder. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft with something that might be concern.
"Are you okay?"
You have to concentrate to form words, your brain still deliciously fuzzy around the edges. "Mmm. Better than okay."
His chest rises and falls with a deep breath. "I didn't hurt you?"
You shake your head against his chest. "You did exactly what I needed."
His arms tighten around you, and you feel his lips press against the top of your head. "Your mind quiet now?"
"Completely empty," you murmur, surprised to find yourself smiling. "Mission accomplished."
You feel rather than see his answering smile, his whole body relaxing beneath yours. For several long moments, you both drift in comfortable silence, the world beyond this bed temporarily forgotten.
Until Heeseung's phone buzzes on the nightstand.
The tension returns to his body immediately, but he doesn't move to check it, unwilling to disturb the peace you've found. The phone buzzes again, more insistent this time.
"You should get that," you say softly. "It might be important."
Reluctantly, he reaches for the phone, keeping you tucked against him with his other arm. You watch his face as he reads the message, preparing yourself for bad news.
"It's the detective," he says after a moment, his voice carefully neutral. "She thinks we should consider temporary relocation—somewhere Minhyuk wouldn't think to look."
The fear starts to creep back in at the edges of your consciousness, but you fight it, focusing on the warmth of Heeseung's body against yours, the lingering pleasant numbness in your limbs.
"She says they can arrange a safe house, but it would take a few days." He scrolls through more of the message. "Or... we could go somewhere on our own. Somewhere only we know about."
You push yourself up on one elbow to look at him properly. "Like where?"
A thoughtful expression crosses his face. "My family has a cabin in the mountains. It's remote, secure. Only a handful of people even know it exists."
"How far?"
"About three hours' drive. Completely isolated." His eyes search yours. "We'd be alone out there."
The thought should be terrifying after everything that's happened, but instead it brings an unexpected sense of relief. Somewhere Minhyuk can't find you. Somewhere you could breathe again.
"When can we leave?" you ask.
Heeseung studies your face, perhaps looking for signs of fear or hesitation. "Tomorrow morning, first light. We'll need to be careful, make sure we're not followed."
You nod, settling back against his chest. "Tomorrow then."
His arm wraps around you again, protective and warm. "Get some rest," he murmurs, his lips brushing your forehead. "I'll be right here."
As sleep begins to claim you, one last coherent thought floats through your mind: whatever happens next, whatever Minhyuk tries, you're not alone. You have Heeseung—your protector, your sanctuary.
Your mind emptier.
-
You wake before dawn, the sky outside still ink-dark. For a moment, you forget why you're rising so early—then memories of yesterday's message flood back. Minhyuk knows where you are. You're no longer safe here.
Heeseung is already up, moving quietly around the apartment, packing essentials into a duffel bag. He pauses when he notices you watching him, a small smile crossing his face despite the tension in his shoulders.
"Morning," he says softly. "I was trying not to wake you."
"I don't think I was really sleeping," you admit, sitting up. "Too much on my mind."
He crosses to sit beside you on the bed, his hand finding yours. "We'll be okay," he promises. "The cabin is safe. My family's owned it for generations, and it's not listed under my name. There's no way he could trace it."
You nod, drawing strength from his certainty. "What do you need me to do?"
"Just pack whatever you need for a week or so. Clothes, toiletries. I've got everything else covered—food, first aid supplies." He squeezes your hand. "And we should get moving soon. I want to be on the road before the city wakes up."
Thirty minutes later, you're both ready. The apartment is locked down—lights on timers to simulate occupancy, mail delivery paused. Heeseung has even arranged for a neighbor to occasionally move his car in the garage to maintain the illusion that you're both still here.
The detective has been notified of your plans, though not your specific destination. "Just tell her we're heading north," Heeseung had instructed during your call. "The fewer people who know exactly where we are, the better."
Dawn is just breaking as you slip into Heeseung's car in the underground parking garage. He drives cautiously, taking a circuitous route through the awakening city, frequently checking the rearview mirror for any signs of being followed.
"You really think he could track us?" you ask, watching Heeseung's vigilant eyes scanning the traffic behind you.
"I'm not taking any chances," he says simply. "Not with your safety."
The city gradually gives way to suburbs, then to open countryside. With each mile that passes, you feel the vise-grip of fear around your chest loosening slightly. By the time you're an hour into the journey, the weight of constant vigilance has lightened enough that you notice your surroundings—the spectacular autumn colors painting the landscape, the mountains rising in the distance, shrouded in morning mist.
Heeseung must notice your gaze, because he reaches across the console to take your hand. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
You nod, surprised to find yourself capable of appreciating beauty after days of seeing only danger. "I didn't realize how much I needed to get out of the city."
His thumb traces circles on the back of your hand. "We both did."
The drive continues, winding steadily upward into the mountains. Cell service becomes increasingly spotty, then disappears altogether. The isolation that would have terrified you days ago now feels like a blessing—a barrier between you and the danger you've left behind.
"Almost there," Heeseung says as he turns onto a narrow dirt road that seems to disappear into the forest. "It's a bit hidden."
'A bit hidden' proves to be an understatement. The road—little more than a trail—winds through dense trees for nearly a mile before suddenly opening into a small clearing. And there, nestled against a backdrop of pines with a breathtaking view of the valley below, stands the cabin.
It's not what you expected—not the rustic, primitive structure the word "cabin" had conjured in your mind. This is a beautifully crafted home of stone and timber, with large windows facing the valley and a wide porch wrapping around two sides.
"Heeseung," you breathe, taking in the scene. "This is..."
"Home," he says simply, a soft smile playing at his lips as he watches your reaction. "At least, it always has been for me."
He parks beside the cabin and comes around to open your door, offering his hand to help you out. The mountain air hits you immediately—crisp, pine-scented, revitalizing. You take a deep breath, feeling something tight in your chest unfurl.
"Come on," Heeseung says, retrieving your bags from the trunk. "Let's get inside before it gets cold."
The interior of the cabin is even more beautiful than the exterior—an open-concept living area with soaring ceilings, the far wall dominated by a stone fireplace. The furnishings are simple but high-quality, clearly chosen to complement the natural surroundings. Large windows frame the valley view like living paintings.
"This is incredible," you say, turning slowly to take it all in. "Your family built this?"
"My grandfather," Heeseung confirms, setting the bags down. "He wanted a place where the family could escape, reconnect with nature. I spent every summer here as a kid." A wistful smile crosses his face. "Haven't been back in a couple of years though. Work always seemed more important somehow."
You move to the windows, gazing out at the panoramic view. The valley stretches below you, a patchwork of golds and reds and deep greens in the autumn sunlight. In the distance, more mountains rise, their peaks ghostly in the afternoon haze.
"I've never seen anything like this," you admit, momentarily forgetting why you're here—not a vacation, but an escape from danger.
Heeseung comes to stand behind you, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. "Good," he says softly. "I wanted you to see something beautiful after everything you've been through."
The simple statement, so earnest and thoughtful, brings unexpected tears to your eyes. You turn to face him, finding his gaze already on you, warm and steady.
"Thank you," you whisper. "For all of this. For keeping me safe."
His expression softens further. "You don't have to thank me."
"I do," you insist. "Most people wouldn't have done half of what you have for someone they barely know."
Something shifts in his eyes at that. "I think we're well past 'barely know,' don't you?"
Heat rises to your cheeks as memories of yesterday flood back—his hands on your skin, his mouth on yours, the way he'd made you forget everything but him. "Yes," you agree quietly. "I guess we are."
The moment stretches between you, charged with unspoken things. Then Heeseung clears his throat, stepping back slightly. "I should get the generator going and check the water. Make yourself at home."
As he busies himself with the practical aspects of opening the cabin, you explore the space that will be your sanctuary for the foreseeable future. Besides the main living area, there's a well-equipped kitchen, a bathroom with a surprisingly modern shower, and two bedrooms—one large, one small. You peek into the larger one, noting the king-sized bed with its blue-and-white quilt, the bedside tables with reading lamps, the large window offering the same spectacular view as the living room.
Your exploration is interrupted by Heeseung's return. "Everything's working," he announces. "Water's running, generator's humming along. We're all set." He glances at his watch. "I should try to call the detective while we still have daylight. The satellite phone works better outside."
You nod, suddenly remembering the reason for this idyllic retreat. "I'll unpack some of the food supplies."
While Heeseung steps onto the porch with the satellite phone, you busy yourself in the kitchen, organizing the groceries you picked up on the drive. The domesticity of the task is soothing—arranging canned goods in cupboards, filling the refrigerator with fresh produce, setting out cooking utensils. For a few minutes, it's possible to pretend this is just a vacation, a romantic getaway rather than a desperate flight from danger.
When Heeseung returns, his expression is more relaxed than before. "Good news," he says, setting the satellite phone on the counter. "They've got leads on Minhyuk. Apparently he's been spotted in the city, which means he doesn't know we've left."
Relief floods through you. "So we're safe here?"
"For now, at least," he confirms. "The detective says to stay put. They'll contact us as soon as they have him in custody."
You lean against the counter, suddenly exhausted as the tension of the day catches up with you. "So what do we do now?"
Heeseung steps closer, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with gentle fingers. "Now," he says softly, "we rest. We breathe. We let ourselves feel safe for a while."
"I'm not sure I remember what that feels like," you admit.
His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing along your cheekbone. "Then I'll help you remember," he promises.
The first evening in the cabin passes in a peaceful haze. Heeseung builds a fire in the massive stone hearth while you prepare a simple dinner from the supplies you brought. The routine feels surprisingly natural—him pausing to taste the sauce you're making, you passing him logs for the fire, both of you moving around each other with an ease that belies how new this closeness really is.
After dinner, you settle on the comfortable sofa facing the fireplace, a blanket draped over both of you. Outside, night has fallen completely, the darkness absolute in a way it never is in the city. Inside, the fire casts dancing shadows on the walls, bathing everything in warm golden light.
"What are you thinking?" Heeseung asks, noticing your contemplative expression.
You consider the question, surprised by your answer. "That I can't remember the last time I felt this calm."
His arm around your shoulders tightens slightly. "Good. That's what I wanted for you here."
You turn to look at him, studying his face in the firelight—the strong line of his jaw, the fullness of his lips, the warmth in his eyes as he returns your gaze. Something swells in your chest, a feeling too new and fragile to name.
"What about you?" you ask. "What were you thinking?"
A small smile plays at his lips. "That I've never brought anyone here before. Not like this."
The admission sends a pleasant warmth spreading through you. "Not even your...?"
"No," he says simply. "No one. This place has always been just for family." He pauses, his eyes never leaving yours. "But having you here feels right somehow."
The words hang in the air between you, weighted with meaning. Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, you both lean in, lips meeting in a kiss that's different from any you've shared before—not desperate or distracting, but slow and deliberate, a question and an answer all at once.
When you break apart, something has shifted between you yet again. The pretense that this is merely about safety, about distraction from fear, has fallen away completely. What remains is something new and uncharted, fragile but intensely real.
"It's getting late," Heeseung murmurs, though he makes no move to pull away. "We should probably get some sleep."
The practical concern brings a sudden awkwardness. There are two bedrooms in the cabin, but after everything that's happened between you, the thought of sleeping apart feels strange, almost wrong.
As if reading your thoughts, Heeseung adds hesitantly, "I can take the small room if you want space, or..."
"No," you say quickly—too quickly perhaps. "I mean, I'd rather not be alone. If that's okay."
The smile that spreads across his face is like sunrise. "More than okay," he assures you.
The nighttime routine you establish feels like an extension of the easy domesticity you've been building—brushing teeth side by side at the single bathroom sink, taking turns changing in the bedroom, pulling back the covers together. When you finally settle into bed, Heeseung's arm wraps around your waist, drawing you against his chest as naturally as if you've been falling asleep this way for years.
"Good night, Y/N," he murmurs, lips brushing the nape of your neck.
"Good night, Heeseung," you whisper back, marveling at how quickly terror has given way to tranquility.
As you drift toward sleep, one last coherent thought forms in your mind: here, miles from civilization, cut off from the world, entirely alone with a man who was a stranger just days ago, you've never felt safer in your life.
-
Heeseung's eyes soften, his gaze lingering warmly on yours as sunlight filters through the window, bathing your tangled bodies in golden warmth. His thumb brushes gently over your lower lip, sending a shiver down your spine.
Over the next few days, your intimacy deepens, boundaries dissolving entirely as your desire grows increasingly insatiable. Mornings find you waking to his warm body pressed firmly against yours, his hands already exploring your skin, teasing sensitive spots until you're fully awake, panting and desperate for him.
Afternoons turn into hours spent in relentless pursuit of pleasure—Heeseung pressing you against cabin walls, your bodies colliding roughly, passionately. His hands gripping your hips tightly, thrusting deep and mercilessly, leaving you screaming his name, your thoughts scattering as he repeatedly takes you over the edge. His mouth is everywhere, biting, sucking, and marking you until your body feels entirely claimed.
Late nights, he has you bent over the couch, his fingers tangled in your hair, holding you firmly in place as he drives into you with powerful, possessive strokes, whispering filthy praise into your ear. He loves seeing how quickly he can make your eyes glaze over, leaving you utterly mindless and completely his, each climax more intense, more consuming than the last.
One rainy afternoon, your bodies slam together against the window overlooking the forest, your cries blending with the sound of raindrops hitting the glass. Heeseung lifts you effortlessly, pinning you hard against the cold surface, entering you sharply and deeply, pushing you to the edge with a brutal, relentless rhythm. You cling desperately to him, sobbing from pleasure, your vision blurring as you lose yourself entirely to the sensations he's inflicting upon your body.
In quieter moments, he lays you out on the bed, spreading your legs wide, taking his time teasing you mercilessly with slow, torturous strokes of his tongue and fingers, pushing you to the brink repeatedly until you're begging him shamelessly for release. He enjoys reducing you to pleading incoherence, knowing that only he can unravel you so completely.
One evening, under the flickering glow of candlelight, you ride him slowly at first, then harder, more desperately as your need overtakes you. His fingers dig painfully into your hips, urging you on, thrusting up into you roughly until your body shatters, leaving you trembling, tears slipping down your cheeks from sheer overwhelming pleasure.
"How did we ever survive without this?" you whisper afterward, your voice soft, your body warm and languid against his.
Heeseung smiles darkly, pressing a possessive kiss to your temple. "I don't know," he murmurs, pulling you impossibly closer. "But I plan to make sure you never forget exactly who makes you feel this good."
This time, there's no fear driving you together, no desperate need to escape your thoughts. There's only want—pure and simple and mutual. Every touch is deliberate, every kiss intentional. And when you come together, it's with a sweetness that brings tears to your eyes, your mind emptying not from desperate distraction but from sheer overwhelming pleasure.
"That was..." you begin afterward, struggling to find words as you lie tangled together in the sunlit bed.
"I know," Heeseung says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "For me too."
The admission brings a smile to your lips. "How is this real?" you wonder aloud. "two weeks ago, you were a stranger."
He traces patterns on your bare shoulder, his expression thoughtful. "Maybe sometimes life compresses. A week feels like months because we've experienced so much together."
You consider this, watching sunlight play across his features. "I like that explanation."
His fingers continue their gentle exploration of your skin. "Or maybe," he adds more softly, "this was always going to happen, somehow. Maybe we were meant to find each other, even if the circumstances were..."
"Completely terrifying?" you supply with a small laugh.
He smiles, but his eyes remain serious. "I would never wish what you've been through on anyone," he says. "But I can't regret that it brought you into my life."
The simple honesty of his words makes your chest tighten with emotion. You lean up to kiss him, trying to convey without words what you're not yet ready to say aloud.
The satellite phone rings that afternoon—the detective with an update. They've narrowed down Minhyuk's location but haven't apprehended him yet. The news casts a brief shadow over your idyllic retreat, a reminder that the danger hasn't passed. But somehow, it doesn't hold the same power to terrify you anymore.
"We're safe here," Heeseung reassures you after the call. "And they're getting closer to finding him."
You nod, surprised to realize you truly believe him. The panic that has been your constant companion for days has receded to a dull concern, manageable rather than overwhelming.
That evening, a storm moves in, bringing wind and rain that lash at the windows. You build the fire higher, creating a cocoon of warmth against the elements. The electricity flickers once, twice, then goes out completely, leaving you in firelight and shadows.
"Generator must have cut out," Heeseung says, already reaching for a flashlight. "I'll go check it."
"Be careful," you call as he heads for the door, suddenly anxious about him leaving, even briefly.
He pauses, returning to press a quick kiss to your lips. "Always am," he promises. "Keep the fire going—I'll be back in ten minutes."
While he's gone, you add logs to the fire, then gather candles from the kitchen cupboards, placing them strategically around the living area. The storm seems to intensify, rain drumming against the roof, wind howling through the trees outside. For the first time since arriving at the cabin, you feel a prickle of unease, attuned to every sound.
When the door finally opens, admitting a rain-soaked Heeseung, relief rushes through you so strongly that you cross the room in seconds, throwing your arms around him despite his wet clothes.
"Hey," he says, clearly surprised by the reaction. "It's okay. Just a blown fuse—I fixed it, but the power company's out anyway. We'll have to wait out the storm."
"I don't care about the power," you murmur against his chest. "I just... I didn't like you being out there alone."
He pulls back slightly to look at you, rainwater dripping from his hair onto his face. "I'm right here," he says softly. "Not going anywhere."
You help him out of his wet jacket, insisting he change into dry clothes while you make hot chocolate on the gas stove. By the time he returns, you've created a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the fireplace, the closest source of warmth.
"What's all this?" he asks, a smile playing at his lips.
"Camping," you declare with mock seriousness. "Indoor version."
He laughs, the sound warming you more than the fire. "I like the way you think."
You settle into your makeshift camp, sipping hot chocolate, listening to the storm rage outside while remaining perfectly safe and warm within. The contrast isn't lost on you—how something that would have terrified you a week ago now feels almost romantic.
"Thank you," you say suddenly, looking up at Heeseung.
"For what?" he asks, brow furrowing slightly.
"For this," you gesture around you. "For keeping me safe. For... everything."
His expression softens. "You don't have to thank me."
"I know," you admit. "But I want to. Not just for the practical things—the protection, the cabin. But for making me feel..." You search for the right word. "Normal again. Like myself, not just someone who's afraid all the time."
Heeseung sets down his mug, turning to face you fully. "You're extraordinary," he says, his voice low and sincere. "The way you've handled everything that's happened—most people would have broken down completely. But you're still here, still fighting."
The earnestness in his eyes makes your breath catch. "Only because of you."
He shakes his head. "No. I may have helped, but the strength was yours all along." He takes your hand, threading his fingers through yours. "Do you know what I thought when you first grabbed me that night on the subway?"
You shake your head, curious.
"I thought, 'This person is brave.' Not just because you asked a stranger for help, but because I could see in your eyes that you were scared but refusing to be paralyzed by it." His thumb traces circles on your palm. "I still think that. Every day."
Emotion swells in your chest, too big to contain. You lean forward, closing the distance between you, your lips finding his in a kiss that tries to convey everything you're feeling—gratitude, yes, but also something deeper, something that's been growing quietly in the shadow of fear.
The kiss deepens, hands beginning to wander, the storm outside forgotten entirely as you create your own tempest within the circle of firelight. Heeseung's lips trace a path down your neck, finding the spot that makes your mind go blissfully blank, and you surrender to the sensation, to him, to the unexpected gift of feeling safe in a world that had become nothing but danger.
The warmth of the fire bathes the room in soft golden light, shadows dancing gently across your intertwined bodies. Heeseung's fingers glide slowly over your skin, tracing sensual, languid patterns that ignite a slow-burning fire within you. His eyes meet yours, heavy-lidded and filled with desire, making your heart race with anticipation.
He gently guides you to move above him, hands firmly gripping your hips, positioning you carefully until you're comfortably settled with your thighs on either side of his face. A thrill of excitement courses through your body, and you tremble slightly at the intimate vulnerability of the position. Heeseung's gaze reassures you entirely, filled with warmth, adoration, and undeniable lust.
"Take your time," he whispers huskily, warm breath teasing your sensitive skin. "I want to savor you."
His hands slowly stroke your thighs, fingertips pressing lightly into your skin as he draws you closer. Your breath hitches when his lips press softly, sensually along your inner thighs, lingering kisses growing hotter, more intense, making your muscles relax as desire pools deep within your core.
You release a soft, breathless moan as his tongue finally makes contact, moving slowly and deliberately, dragging in slow, teasing strokes, sending waves of languid pleasure cascading through you. Your fingers thread into his hair, guiding his movements gently, hips beginning to rock instinctively, chasing the irresistible sensations he creates.
"Heeseung," you sigh, voice thick with desire, body melting under the slow, sinful movements of his tongue. He hums appreciatively against you, the vibrations rippling pleasure deeper into your body, making you gasp softly.
His touch remains unhurried, deliberately teasing, each slow, tantalizing swipe of his tongue pulling you further into a blissful haze of sensation. He explores every inch of you thoroughly, lips and tongue moving expertly, alternating between slow, gentle strokes and firm, demanding pressure, making you whimper and moan his name repeatedly.
"You taste so good," he murmurs, voice deep and rough, eyes blazing with passion as he briefly pulls away to gaze up at you. "I could do this all night."
Your hips move more insistently now, grinding slowly against his mouth, savoring the deep, languid rhythm you've fallen into. Pleasure coils tighter within you, slow-building yet powerful, as he continues to worship you expertly, driving you steadily toward the edge.
Your breathing becomes ragged, body trembling with need, fingers tightening in his hair as the exquisite sensations push you gently yet inexorably toward release. Heeseung senses your closeness, intensifying his efforts, tongue moving deeply, urgently, drawing you over the edge into a languid, shuddering climax that leaves you breathless and softly trembling above him.
When you finally sink back beside him, his arms wrap around you possessively, pulling you flush against his chest, your bodies tangled intimately as he presses slow, sensual kisses along your skin. The firelight flickers warmly around you, creating a perfect cocoon of warmth, sensuality, and unspoken promises.
Heeseung's fingers trace lazy patterns on your bare skin, his breathing slow and even against your hair.
"What happens when this is over?" you ask softly, the question that's been lingering in the back of your mind finally finding voice. "When they catch him and we go back to the city?"
Heeseung is quiet for a long moment, his hand stilling against your shoulder. Then he props himself up on one elbow, looking down at you with an expression so serious it makes your heart stutter.
"Whatever you want to happen," he says simply. "But I hope... I hope we don't go back to being strangers."
The vulnerability in his voice melts something inside you. "I don't think we could if we tried," you confess. "Not after everything."
Relief softens his features. "Good," he says. "Because I've gotten used to this. To you."
"Me too," you admit, reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. "I can't imagine waking up and you not being there."
His smile is so tender it makes your chest ache. "Then don't," he says, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. "Don't imagine it."
As you drift toward sleep in his arms, the rain pattering gently against the roof, you realize something profound: in running from danger, in seeking refuge, you've somehow found something you weren't even looking for—a connection that transcends the circumstances of your meeting, a sanctuary not just in this remote cabin but in each other.
Whatever comes next—whether Minhyuk is caught tomorrow or weeks from now—that connection remains. And for the first time since this nightmare began, you find yourself looking toward the future with something like hope.
-
The storm rages through the night, wind howling around the cabin and rain lashing against the windows. Despite the exhaustion weighing on your limbs, sleep comes in fitful bursts, each crack of thunder or creak of the cabin jolting you awake. Beside you, Heeseung maintains his vigil, dozing occasionally but never fully surrendering to sleep. The baseball bat remains within reach, a grim reminder of the danger lurking beyond the walls.
Just before dawn, the storm begins to subside, rain softening to a gentle patter against the roof. Through a small gap in the blanket covering the bedroom window, you can see the sky lightening from black to deep blue, the first hint of morning approaching.
"We should start packing," Heeseung says, his voice low and tense. "I want to be ready to leave as soon as it's fully light."
You nod, slipping from the warmth of the bed into the chill morning air. The satellite phone still shows no signal—the storm's aftermath continuing to block transmission. You move through the cabin with careful efficiency, gathering only the essentials, keeping away from windows despite the coverings.
"Do you think he's still out there?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper despite the unlikelihood of being overheard.
Heeseung pauses in his methodical packing, his expression grave. "I don't know. But I'm not taking any chances. We leave in twenty minutes, head straight for the car, and don't stop for anything."
The gravity of his words settles heavily between you. For all your planning, there's still the most dangerous moment to navigate—the brief exposure between cabin and car, when you'll be completely vulnerable.
As the minutes tick by, tension builds in your chest, a familiar tightness that signals the approach of panic. You focus on your breathing, on the practical tasks at hand, on Heeseung's steady presence beside you. When everything is packed and ready, you stand together in the kitchen, the duffle bags at your feet, steeling yourselves for departure.
"Ready?" Heeseung asks, the baseball bat in one hand, car keys in the other.
You nod, swallowing hard against the fear. "Ready."
He moves to the door, checking through the peephole before unlocking the deadbolt with deliberate quietness. The metallic click of the lock releasing seems unnaturally loud in the pre-dawn stillness. Heeseung turns the knob slowly, easing the door open just enough to scan the porch and clearing beyond.
"Clear," he whispers, opening the door wider. "Let's go."
You step onto the porch, the wooden boards still slick with rain, the air cool and misty after the storm. The clearing surrounding the cabin is eerily still, trees dripping quietly, no wildlife sounds yet greeting the dawn. Everything appears peaceful, normal—and that, somehow, makes your nerves stretch tighter.
Heeseung goes first, bags slung over his shoulder, bat held ready. You follow closely, your footsteps seeming thunderous despite your attempts at stealth. The car is only thirty feet away, but the distance feels vast, exposed, each step taking too long.
You're halfway to the car when you see it—movement at the forest edge, a dark shape detaching from the deeper shadows beneath the trees. Heeseung notices in the same moment, his body tensing, placing himself between you and the approaching figure.
"Get in the car," he says, voice low and urgent. "Now."
You fumble with the bag, trying to move faster, but your limbs feel heavy with dread. The figure steps fully into the clearing, and even in the dim pre-dawn light, there's no mistaking who it is. Minhyuk—his face gaunt, clothes dirty and wet from the storm, eyes fixed on you with a terrible intensity.
"Go," Heeseung urges again, pressing the car keys into your hand. "Get inside and lock the doors."
But before you can reach the car, Minhyuk calls out, his voice carrying clearly across the clearing. "Don't bother. I cut the fuel line."
Heeseung freezes, a curse escaping under his breath. You can see his mind racing, calculating options, weighing the truth of Minhyuk's claim against the risk of finding out too late.
"What do you want?" Heeseung calls back, his voice steady despite the tension evident in every line of his body.
Minhyuk takes another step forward, and now you can see what he's holding—the metallic glint of a knife catching the growing light. "I just want to talk to Y/N. To explain things." His voice is eerily calm, almost reasonable, which somehow makes it more terrifying. "You've turned her against me. I just need a chance to make her understand."
"She understands perfectly," Heeseung responds, his grip tightening on the bat. "You need to leave. Now."
A strange smile crosses Minhyuk's face. "Always the hero, aren't you? Playing the protector." His eyes shift to you, somehow both pleading and menacing. "He's not really your boyfriend, Y/N. We both know that. This is all an act."
Fear roots you to the spot, but anger rises alongside it—anger at this man who has terrorized you, forced you from your home, hunted you across counties. "It doesn't matter," you find yourself saying, your voice stronger than expected. "I don't know you. I don't want to know you. Leave us alone."
Something shifts in Minhyuk's expression—the calm facade cracking to reveal something darker, more volatile. "You don't mean that," he says, his voice hardening. "He's manipulating you. Making you say these things."
"No one's manipulating anyone," Heeseung says, taking a half-step forward. "Y/N has made herself clear. You need to go."
Minhyuk's gaze snaps back to Heeseung, hatred twisting his features. "This is between me and her. You're the intruder here."
"Heeseung," you whisper, terror clawing at your throat as you watch Minhyuk's grip tighten on the knife. "Please."
The tension stretches between the three of you, the clearing silent except for the dripping trees and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. Then Minhyuk moves—a sudden lunge forward that sends panic surging through your veins.
Heeseung reacts instantly, pushing you toward the cabin. "Run!" he shouts, raising the bat as Minhyuk charges.
Time seems to slow and accelerate simultaneously—Minhyuk closing the distance with terrifying speed, Heeseung bracing to meet him, the sound of your own ragged breathing as you stumble backward. You want to run as instructed, but can't bear to leave Heeseung alone, your feet refusing to carry you to safety while he faces danger.
The two men collide with violent force. Heeseung swings the bat, forcing Minhyuk to dodge, buying precious seconds. But Minhyuk is fueled by obsession, by a deranged determination that makes him reckless and unpredictable. He feints left, then strikes right, the knife slashing through the air.
Heeseung avoids the worst of it, but the blade catches his arm, tearing through his jacket. He doesn't cry out, doesn't falter, swinging the bat again with controlled precision. This time it connects, striking Minhyuk's shoulder with a sickening thud.
Minhyuk staggers back, but doesn't fall. The injury seems to fuel his rage rather than slow him down. "You think you can protect her?" he snarls. "You think you deserve her?"
"This isn't about deserving," Heeseung responds, voice steady despite the blood now visible on his sleeve. "This is about her choice. And she didn't choose you."
The words seem to strike Minhyuk more powerfully than the physical blow. His face contorts with fury, and he charges again, knife held high.
You're still rooted to the spot, terror paralyzing your limbs. But as Minhyuk rushes toward Heeseung again, survival instinct finally kicks in. Not for yourself—for Heeseung. Without conscious thought, you grab the nearest object—a large rock dislodged during the storm—and throw it with all your strength.
It strikes Minhyuk's back, not hard enough to injure seriously, but enough to distract him, to disrupt his attack. He whirls toward you, eyes wild with betrayal and rage.
"You," he hisses, changing direction, now advancing on you. "After everything I've done to find you..."
Heeseung doesn't hesitate. He lunges forward, tackling Minhyuk from behind before he can reach you. Both men go down hard, grappling in the mud and wet grass. The knife glints in the growing light as they struggle for control, a deadly variable in the chaotic fight.
You search desperately for another weapon, anything to help, when a new sound cuts through the terrible sounds of combat—sirens, distant but approaching. Relief floods through you, followed immediately by renewed fear. Will help arrive in time?
The sound reaches the fighting men as well. Minhyuk freezes for just an instant, his head turning toward the road—and in that moment of distraction, Heeseung strikes. His fist connects with Minhyuk's jaw, a powerful blow that sends the stalker sprawling backward. The knife falls from his grip, landing on the wet ground between them.
Both men lunge for it simultaneously. Your heart seems to stop as they grapple again, the knife now the focal point of the struggle. Then Heeseung shouts in pain, and you see a flash of red—blood, his blood—and terror unlike anything you've ever known seizes your heart.
But Heeseung doesn't falter. Despite the wound, he manages to knock the knife away, sending it skittering across the clearing. Then, with a final surge of strength, he pins Minhyuk to the ground, his knee on the stalker's chest, one hand gripping his throat.
"It's over," Heeseung says, his voice ragged with exertion and pain. "Do you hear those sirens? It's over."
Minhyuk struggles for a few more seconds, then goes still, the fight seeming to drain from him as the sound of approaching vehicles grows louder. Heeseung maintains his grip, not trusting the sudden compliance.
The sirens grow louder, then headlights appear through the trees, illuminating the clearing with harsh white light. Police cars—three of them—bumping down the rough access road, followed by what looks like an ambulance.
"Here!" you shout, waving frantically. "Over here!"
Everything moves quickly after that. Officers pour from the vehicles, guns drawn, shouting commands. Heeseung carefully backs away from Minhyuk, hands raised to show he's not a threat. Minhyuk is immediately handcuffed, his expression eerily vacant now, the manic energy gone.
You rush to Heeseung, heart pounding violently in your chest as you see the blood staining his sleeve, another patch rapidly spreading across his side. His jacket is torn open, revealing a deep gash that makes your stomach lurch.
"You're hurt," you cry out, your voice breaking as tears immediately flood your eyes. Your hands hover over his wounds, afraid to touch and cause more pain but desperate to help. "Oh my god, you're hurt. You're bleeding so much."
"I'm okay," he assures you, though his face is alarmingly pale, his breathing shallow with pain. "It's not as bad as it looks."
"Don't say that!" Your voice rises with panic, tears now streaming freely down your face. "Look at you! This is all my fault. You're hurt because of me."
Your hands tremble as they finally settle on his face, cradling his cheeks as if he might shatter. "You're my baby and you're hurt," you whisper, the words tumbling out without thought, raw with emotion. "Please, you need help right now."
His eyes widen slightly at your words, a softness passing through them despite his pain. He tries to lift his hand to wipe your tears but winces with the movement.
"Don't move," you plead, becoming more frantic as you notice how the blood continues to seep through his clothes. You turn toward the approaching paramedics, desperation in your voice. "Please hurry! He's losing too much blood!"
You turn back to Heeseung, pressing your forehead gently against his, uncaring about the mud and blood. "Stay with me," you whisper fiercely. "I can't lose you. Not now. Not after everything."
Paramedics approach, guiding Heeseung to sit on the steps of the cabin while they examine his wounds. You hover anxiously nearby, unable to tear your eyes from him even as a female officer gently questions you about what happened.
Across the clearing, Minhyuk is being loaded into a police car, his vacant expression finally shifting as his eyes find yours one last time. There's something in his gaze—not remorse, not exactly, but perhaps the first glimmer of understanding that his obsession has led him to ruin.
"He'll be going away for a long time," the detective says, appearing at your side. She looks tired but satisfied. "Attempted murder, stalking, violation of restraining orders—the list goes on. He won't hurt anyone else."
Relief makes your knees weak. You look to where Heeseung sits, enduring the ministrations of the paramedics with stoic patience. When he catches your eye, he manages a small, reassuring smile despite everything.
"You should go to him," the detective says, following your gaze. "We can finish the statements later."
You don't need to be told twice. You cross to Heeseung, carefully sitting beside him on the cabin steps. The paramedics have cut away his sleeve to reveal a long gash on his forearm, already partially bandaged. Another wound at his side has been dressed, though blood still seeps through the white gauze.
"How bad is it?" you ask one of the paramedics.
"He'll need stitches," she replies. "But no major arteries were hit. He was lucky."
Lucky isn't the word you'd use. Brave. Selfless. Incredible. Those come closer.
"We need to transport him to the hospital," the paramedic continues. "Would you like to ride along?"
"Yes," you say immediately, your hand finding Heeseung's uninjured one. "I'm not leaving him."
Heeseung's fingers tighten around yours. "It's over," he says softly, just for you. "Really over."
As they help him onto a stretcher, you remain by his side, your hand never leaving his. Behind you, the cabin stands silent in the growing daylight, its brief role as both sanctuary and battleground now complete. Around you, police officers document the scene, take photographs, collect evidence. Minhyuk is driven away, the police car disappearing down the access road toward a future of concrete and steel bars.
In the ambulance, as paramedics hook Heeseung to monitoring equipment and start an IV for pain medication, he keeps his eyes on you, as if afraid you might disappear if he looks away.
"You saved me," he says, his voice slightly slurred as the pain medication begins to take effect. "With that rock. You saved me."
Tears fill your eyes as you shake your head. "No. You saved me. From the very beginning, you saved me."
His lips curve into a tired smile. "Maybe we saved each other."
As the ambulance begins its journey down the mountain, you hold tight to his hand, to that simple truth. Whatever comes next—hospital rooms, police statements, the eventual return to normal life—you'll face it together. The nightmare is over. Minhyuk can no longer reach you, no longer control your life with fear.
For the first time since that night on the subway platform, you feel truly, completely free. And despite the trauma of the morning, despite Heeseung's injuries and the lingering shock, there's something else growing beneath the relief—hope. Hope for what comes after fear. Hope for a future neither of you expected to find in the midst of danger.
A future together.
-
Three months later
The afternoon sunlight filters through the café window, painting golden patterns across the table between you. Heeseung sits across from you, absently tracing the faint scar on his forearm—a permanent reminder of that morning in the mountains. You reach across the table, your fingers covering his, interrupting the unconscious movement.
"You're doing it again," you say softly.
He smiles, turning his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. "Sorry. Habit."
It's been exactly twelve weeks since Minhyuk was arrested. Twelve weeks of healing—both physical and emotional. Twelve weeks of rebuilding what had been so violently disrupted. Twelve weeks of discovering who you are together when fear isn't the foundation of your connection.
The legal proceedings had moved swiftly. Minhyuk pleaded guilty to all charges, perhaps finally recognizing the gravity of his actions. His psychiatric evaluation revealed a disturbing pattern of obsessive behavior dating back years before he ever saw you on the subway. The judge had been uncompromising in his sentencing: fifteen years with mandatory psychiatric treatment. You'd attended the sentencing hearing, Heeseung's hand tight around yours as you faced your stalker one final time.
"Whatever made him fixate on you wasn't your fault," the detective had told you afterward. "Some people just break in ways we can't understand."
Those words had helped, as had the therapy sessions you began shortly after returning to the city. But what helped most was Heeseung—his unwavering presence, his patience as you worked through lingering fears, his understanding on the nights when you still woke gasping from nightmares.
"What time is your appointment?" Heeseung asks now, bringing you back to the present.
"Four o'clock," you reply, glancing at your watch. "Dr. Kim says this might be our last weekly session. She thinks we can move to bi-weekly."
Pride flickers across Heeseung's face. "That's great. You've come so far."
You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I have a good support system."
His thumb traces circles on your palm, his eyes warm with an emotion neither of you has put into words yet, though you both feel it. "Are you still okay with dinner at my parents' place tonight? We can reschedule if you're tired after therapy."
"I want to go," you assure him. Meeting his family had been a major step—acknowledging that what began in crisis had evolved into something lasting. His parents had welcomed you with genuine warmth, never asking too many questions about how you met, somehow understanding that those details weren't what mattered.
"They like you, you know," Heeseung says, as if reading your thoughts. "My mother keeps asking when you're coming back."
You laugh, the sound still feeling like a small victory each time. "She just wants someone to appreciate her cooking more than you do."
"True," he concedes with a grin.
The waiter arrives with your check, and Heeseung reaches for it automatically. You let him, having learned to pick your battles. Some protective instincts run too deep to challenge—and if you're honest, his devotion is something you've come to cherish rather than resist.
Outside the café, the early autumn air carries just a hint of the coming cold. Heeseung's arm slips around your waist, a gesture that has become as natural as breathing. You lean into him briefly, savoring the solid warmth of him.
"I'll walk you to Dr. Kim's office," he says. "Then I need to stop by the studio for an hour before dinner."
Your paths have settled into a comfortable rhythm over the past months. You returned to your design firm, picking up old projects and beginning new ones. Heeseung resumed his work at the music studio, though he now keeps more regular hours, prioritizing evenings with you. You still have separate apartments, but most nights are spent together, switching between your spaces with easy familiarity.
The walk to your therapist's office takes you past the subway station where it all began—a route you initially avoided but now traverse without the surge of anxiety it once triggered. Progress, Dr. Kim calls it. Reclaiming your city, your life.
"I'll see you at my place around seven?" Heeseung confirms as you reach the office building.
"I'll be there," you promise. "Should I bring anything?"
"Just yourself." He pauses, then adds, "And maybe pack an overnight bag. My parents usually insist we stay late, and I don't want you taking the subway alone after dark."
Once, you might have chafed at the protectiveness in those words. Now, you recognize it as care rather than control. "Already packed," you admit. "It's in my work bag."
He smiles, leaning down to kiss you briefly. "That's my girl."
As he turns to go, you catch his hand, pulling him back for a moment. "Hey," you say softly. "I've been thinking."
"Dangerous," he teases gently. "About what?"
You hesitate, then take the plunge. "My lease is up next month."
His expression shifts, a cautious hope lighting his eyes. "Is it?"
"I was thinking maybe I shouldn't renew it."
The implication hangs between you, clear but unspoken. Heeseung's hand tightens around yours, his voice dropping to match your quieter tone. "Any particular alternative in mind?"
You hold his gaze, your heart beating faster but not with fear—with anticipation, with certainty. "Your place is bigger. And you have that spare room you're using as storage that would make a perfect home office for me."
A smile slowly spreads across his face, transforming his features with such joy that it takes your breath away. "I think that could be arranged."
"Yeah?"
"Definitely." He pulls you closer, public setting forgotten as he kisses you properly this time, his hands cradling your face with the same tender care he's shown since that very first night.
When he pulls back, you're both slightly breathless. "Go talk to Dr. Kim," he says, reluctantly releasing you. "I'll see you tonight."
You watch him walk away, struck by how far you've come from that terrified person who grabbed a stranger on a subway platform. The journey hasn't been easy—there are still moments when fear creeps in, still days when you check over your shoulder more often than necessary. But those moments are becoming rarer, overshadowed by new memories, better ones.
As you turn to enter the building, your phone buzzes with a text. Heeseung, already missing you:
"Just realized we never used the small bedroom at the cabin. Maybe we should go back someday. Make some better memories there."
You smile, typing your reply:
"I'd like that. As long as you're with me."
His response comes instantly:
"Always."
A promise that began in crisis, tested by danger, and now—finally—has the chance to unfold in peace. You pocket your phone and head into your appointment, ready to talk about the future rather than the past.
A future with Heeseung. A future without fear.
A future that began with two strangers on a subway platform, and against all odds, became home.
✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.
✰ word count. — 7k+
✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayal (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!hs, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and hs are both 18+, minors dni. very cliche shit. reader doesn’t know much abt sex tbh.
✰ synopsis. — Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of, "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."
You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.
✰ a/n. revamping this from my bts acc with heeseung this time bc im absolutely obsessed with this couple and need them to exist in every possible universe :P revamping part 2 as we speak and ill post in a few days hehe
Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him.
Lee Chaeryeong isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Heeseung is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.
Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Heeseung very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible.
Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.
It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Chaeryeong for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him.
So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Chaeryeong, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.
"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Chaeryeong delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.
She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."
Deep down, Chaeryeong knows Heeseung won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.
As you're about to ask Chaeryeong if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.
You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Heeseung's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.
His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.
Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.
He nods at you, "What's up?"
"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?
"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.
Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.
"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”
It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.
You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.
When you turn to leave, Heeseung stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"
"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.
A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Chaeryeong is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Heeseung to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.
"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Heeseung interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.
You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you.
A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.
It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.
You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister.
It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Heeseung definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?
Heeseung hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway.
So you leave.
You tell Chaeryeong you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.
The following day isn't any easier.
Chaeryeong posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Heeseung posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Heeseung farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.
"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Heeseung responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'
It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.
Maybe it's for the best that Heeseung's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him.
And you most certainly did.
The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Chaeryeong brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Heeseung on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.
You’re better off without him.
That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Heeseung's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Chaeryeong (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco.
Heeseung was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.
It took days of convincing until Heeseung finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Chaeryeong moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Chaeryeong for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.
He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.
Some of you have debated telling Chaeryeong about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.
Chaeryeong has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."
She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Chaeryeong. She had other plans, however.
"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."
Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Chaeryeong looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.
One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Chaeryeong has to practically yank you through the front door.
Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Chaeryeong even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Chaeryeong would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen.
"Thirsty?" Chaeryeong questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.
"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Chaeryeong pours something into your cup.
"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.
Chaeryeong suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did.
"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.
You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."
You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.
That's when it hits you.
"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.
It's Heeseung. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.
You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.
Panicked, you reach for Chaeryeong's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.
Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Chaeryeong towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."
"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning."
Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."
Chaeryeong squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.
"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"
"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"
"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.
"What are you doing here?" Chaeryeong throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Heeseung steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.
"But—"
"Go."
Chaeryeong's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Heeseung looks at you. "What?"
"You too."
"I'm not—"
"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.
Trudging up the stairs behind Chaeryeong, you wait with her in the hallway until Heeseung arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Chaeryeong protest; there really isn't any point.
As soon as the door is shut, Chaeryeong is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"
"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Heeseung says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"
Chaeryeong glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Heeseung, takes a deep breath, then agrees.
"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Chaeryeong to calm down enough to let him speak.
"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."
Heeseung scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"
Chaeryeong nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Heeseung is your brother, anyway.
"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Chaeryeong mumbles, barely able to look Heeseung in the eye.
"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"
"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."
"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Chaeryeong glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.
You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Heeseung flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).
"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"
"Same way we got here."
"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Chaeryeong shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"
Heeseung's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."
"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Chaeryeong asks the exact question you had.
Heeseung shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."
You and Chaeryeong exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?
"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Chaeryeong questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.
"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."
It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Heeseung says he's taking the two of you home. Chaeryeong, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Chaeryeong is really good at getting what she wants, or if Heeseung was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.
"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Heeseung scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.
A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Heeseung! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"
"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.
You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Heeseung just referred to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Heeseung had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.
What the actual fuck.
—
The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Chaeryeong has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.
"It's time, Chaeryeong," you interrupt, helping her stand.
"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"
"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.
Chaeryeong is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Heeseung's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"
You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."
Stunned, Chaeryeong gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."
"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."
"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"
Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling.
"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.
Chaeryeong snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."
Now, you really have to test the waters.
"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Heeseung? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.
A beat of silence passes as Chaeryeong gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."
"What?"
You've finally reached Heeseung's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Chaeryeong shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."
"First?" You mimic.
"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"
This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Heeseung.
You go to respond, but Heeseung, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.
There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.
He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Chaeryeong opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.
Heeseung calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."
Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Chaeryeong more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.
Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.
Chaeryeong and Heeseung bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Heeseung even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it.
Heeseung parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.
"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Chaeryeong questions, stretching her arms outward.
"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Heeseung turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."
Mockingly, Chaeryeong points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Heeseung had in her.
You turn to go, but Heeseung's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"
"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.
Heeseung shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"
"No, but it's fi—"
"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."
It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Heeseung because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.
"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Chaeryeong, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"
Suddenly embarrassed, Chaeryeong shushes you, gesturing that Heeseung is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Heeseung genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.
She does finally, and Heeseung resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Heeseung humming along to the radio.
He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."
You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."
"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."
Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.
"Well, I only went because Chaeryeong was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.
"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."
"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.
Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"
"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.
"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Sunghoon, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Heeseung does confuses you.
"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."
"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"
Pause. Boyfriend?
You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Heeseung. "Boyfriend?" You ask.
He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"
There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?
After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Heeseung, I do not have a boyfriend."
"Good. Focus on school."
Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."
Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.
"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.
"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."
"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.
He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"
"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.
"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Chaeryeong get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."
He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.
"Yeah, I'll see you then."
The following day, Chaeryeong is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.
"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.
You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice.
"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.
"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.
Chaeryeong clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."
"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.
You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Heeseung strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.
Perhaps you should stay.
"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend.
Chaeryeong wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Chaeryeong makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.
And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Chaeryeong bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.
Heeseung's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.
He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.
"What's so funny?" You ask.
"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body.
"Who?"
"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.
You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."
"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Chaeryeong wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.
You let him know you'll ask Chaeryeong if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Heeseung directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.
"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"
"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."
"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Heeseung's gaze locks on yours.
"Yeah? It is?" He questions.
You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."
He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.
"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.
"For what? Calling me your sister?"
He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."
Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted.
"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."
"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."
Heeseung raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."
There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.
"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.
"Awkward about what?"
God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?
"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."
Heeseung looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"
"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."
What?
"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.
He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Heeseung asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"
He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.
You shake your head.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.
After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Heeseung on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another.
"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.
"I never did." You lie.
"Really? That sucks?"
"Why?"
He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."
You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap.
Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Heeseung can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"
"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."
"Do you trust me?" He asks.
"More than anything."
He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.
You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.
You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger.
"Heeseung…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.
"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"
You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Heeseung doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you.
"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.
His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.
You curse under your breath, and Heeseung makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.
You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.
Heeseung is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.
You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.
Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym.
He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"
You nod.
"Use your words."
“I’m okay, Heeseung.”
"You're still okay with this?"
"Yes."
"You sure?"
Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.
"I'm positive." You assure him.
You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Heeseung catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.
He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Heeseung was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.
He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.
He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"
"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.
Heeseung must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"
"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.
You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.
"You can move, just…not too much. Please."
Heeseung nods, "Whatever you want, angel."
He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.
That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking.
"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.
Heeseung picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.
He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Heeseung finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.
"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.
"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"
"I'm good, I'm good."
As much as you would love to lay naked with Heeseung in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Chaeryeong will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."
He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Heeseung awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.
Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest.
"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.
You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Heeseung reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.
You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty.
Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Heeseung had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?
Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to?
You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Chaeryeong you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.
The next time a Lee sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Chaeryeong finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.
"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.
synopsis: heeseung had an unusual ritual before every competition as a professional league of legends player. one that his ex-girlfriend could no longer fulfill for him, leaving him desperate enough to ask for your help as his best friend.
tags/warnings: SMUT! MDNI! barely proofread lol, heeseungs a professional gamer… idk shit about that tho, you’re his best friend, league of legend mention, oral (m. rec), face fucking, deepthroating obv, praise? heeseung whimpers and whines here and there, name calling bc he calls her a perv hehe, reader touches herself and orgasms bc of his whimpering, cum swallowing, first time writing JUST a blowjob & ball fondling hehe and more probably! [3.3k words]
🖤: im so scared this was only supposed to be like 1k words but i cant shut the fuck up ever.
MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT!
it’s been awhile since you’ve had heeseung linger around your apartment for hours or even days like this. between his time spent with his now ex girlfriend and his professional gaming career, you had rarely seen him. only relying on occasional short lunch meetings or quick coffee runs.
it’s not that his ex disliked you, but more so disliked that you and heeseung happened to be an extremely attractive pair of friends and hated that people would confuse you both as a couple rather than heeseung and her.
you missed your best friend, and it comforted you that he returned those feelings.
before heeseung had stepped foot into a relationship with his ex, he would spend half of his time at your apartment. especially when he had a competition that was near.
“are you nervous?” you ask him, watching as he packs little things he left at your apartment into a small suitcase for the gaming league. it was only one city away but these sorts of things take an entire weekend.
heeseung hums, “i’m confident.” you know he’s not lying either. there’s not much you know about gaming, or specifically, league of legends—but according to your mutual friends, heeseung seems to be a god at the game. yet, he seemed so antsy about something.
“so what are you gonna do about your little pre-competition ritual,” you hope to lighten his mood, easing him of whatever that was on his mind.
“what ritual?”
you clear your throat, “oh, um. your blowjob ritual..?”
the question was asked in a light hearted way, but heeseung didn’t react in such a way at all. the ritual, as you called it, was something heeseung accidentally created a few years ago when he had first gone pro. his situationship at the time gave him head right before he left as a sexy goodluck and a reminder of what he had waiting for him when he got back, but that day he had carried and won the competition for his entire team.
the next year after that he had gotten with his girlfriend and had shyly asked her to suck him off, to which she agreed and it had officially become a routine for every competition, including smaller, less meaningful ones.
“you okay, hee?”
“can i ask you something?” he suddenly speaks up, voice way louder than he intended, causing the both of you to cringe at the volume. “s-sorry.. i just need to ask you something.”
you nod slowly, “yeah, anything. is everything okay?”
heeseung thinks for a few moments before speaking again, “it’s a little personal and it’s okay if you are uncomfortable with this and you absolutely do not have to say yes but i need to at least ask you.”
“heeseung just say it.”
“can you give me a blowjob before my competition this weekend?”
your reaction comes in three stages. the both of you stare at each other in silence for about three minutes before you burst out in laughter, which also lasts about three more minutes. but when you see heeseungs panicked expression, you go silent again.
“wait… seriously?”
heeseung swallows before shaking his head timidly. he debated laughing along with you and passing it off as a complete joke but he felt the need to follow through. the room is silent again. your fingers subconsciously play with the zipper on his suitcase as you think about the question he just proposed to you.
your best friend, whom you’ve experienced half your life with, just asked you if you could give him head before one of his league of legends competitions.
what was the right answer here?
“you.. you don't have to,” heeseungs heart feels like it’s about to fall out of his chest. why on earth would he ask such a thing to his only female friend? no less, his best friend.
it was a joke. yeah, a joke! oh my god, why would i ask that, you pervert! you should’ve seen your face! you guys joke like this all the time, this is no different. he could totally play this off coolly.
“it’s fucking stupid, i know. but it seriously helps me and you know she would do it for me everytime.” he begins rambling without even realizing it. the air is so thick you would have to take a chainsaw to it. “y-you aren’t her, yeah, but i don’t know—it genuinely gets me through the competitions.”
heeseung lets out a shaky breath, “just forget it. ignore what i said.”
“well, no heeseung,” you cut him off, “i can’t just forget that you seriously asked me something like that.”
“please don’t make this awkward. you can say no and we can forget this happened.”
you could tell heeseung wanted to rip his tongue out, and to see your best friend this distressed over something so silly made you want to drop everything and get rid of those feelings for him.
“i mean, i never said no, did i..?”
heeseung looks up, meeting your gaze with a shocked expression, “what?”
“yeah,” you nod, “it doesn’t hurt to think about it, right? it’s not like you’re asking me to completely fuck you—a blowjob wouldn’t hurt us right? especially if it’s going to help you.”
he blinks. heeseung might think you’re going insane, and he’s the one that asked you for the blowjob. no way you were actually considering this for him.
what did he do in his past life to gain such a supportive, pretty best friend.
“so… you’ll think about it?” your best friend's voice is quiet when he asks, like he’s scared to speak up any louder. “like, seriously?”
“yeah,” nodding your head, you flash him a reassuring smile. agreeing to suck off your friend before his professional video game competition, a totally normal request.
when heeseung leaves your apartment, you immediately cuss yourself out. why the fuck would you practically agree to that?
but when you think about telling the boy no, your heart cracks. why? you don’t know. but what you do know is that you would rather die than look at his big sad brown eyes when you tell him you can't give him a special blowjob for his special day.
you were no pro at sucking dick, but you were dedicated to this friendship.
heeseung bounced his leg with nervousness and anticipation. you texted him that you were on the way to his hotel, which would’ve been normal and completely fine considering you attend all of his comps, but today was different.
you never answered his question.
he wonders if maybe you forgot about it. he also hopes you didn’t forget. ever since he asked you the big question, heeseung couldn’t get you out of his mind.
every night leading up to today, he’d lie awake staring at his ceiling trying to push every image of you sitting pretty between his legs out of his mind. the feeling of his cock hardening to the thought of you made him want to dive out of the nearest window.
it’s not like he didn’t think you were hot or that the idea of being intimate with you disgusted him, but it’s the fact that he promised to never be like every other guy.
the two of you were very close. from cuddling while watching movies to holding hands in a crowded area to heeseung beating up creepy men at dive bars for you—you both had a tight knit friendship. and he always promised that he would never cross that line. he might be a total loser but he liked to consider himself a gentleman at the same time.
that day, he did. yet you were still attending something that meant the world to him when you could’ve told him to fuck off and die.
four knocks at the door rips heeseung away from his thoughts.
with sweaty hands and knees that felt like jelly, heeseung grips the door knob and opens it, plastering the fakest smile he could muster up. “hey.” did his voice crack? fuck my life.
“hi!” you hold up two bags filled with a variety of snacks with a large smile on your face, “i brought some stuff for this weekend.”
he clears his throat and steps to the side, letting you enter his hotel room. heeseung averts his gaze to the ceiling as you walk by him, afraid of letting his eyes stay on you–what if he accidentally looks at your ass?
“what time does it start today?” you ask, completely unaware of the emotional distress your male best friend was going through. so nonchalant and unmoving. maybe you did forget afterall.
heeseung takes a seat at the desk in his hotel room, where he had a temporary p.c. set up in case he needed a practice game. “uhh, it’s at six this time.”
“jeez… you guys won't be leaving until late then.” you glance at the clock and back to him. he has to leave very soon. how do you casually start giving your best friend a blowjob within the next fifteen minutes.
“yeah, you know of all people that these things can go for hours. you’re gonna be there for the last few rounds right?”
you nod, wondering if heeseung could notice the way you’re practically gawking at him. was he always this hot? it’s stupid question when you’re fully aware of how attractive heeseung was and currently is. maybe it was the way he was dressed up for his competition tonight, or the way he leaned back on his hands and spread his legs comfortably.
the baggy black hoodie that you knew he was wearing by itself with nothing underneath paired with his baggy jeans that sat so perfectly on his hips. you were fully aware that you were checking out your best friend. he’s fucking hot, why else would you agree to do any of this?
you wonder if he’s thought about this as much as you have. is he nervous? is he vocal? how long does it take for him to get hard and how big is he?
“hey,” you don’t know where the confidence is coming from, but you find yourself kneeling in front of him with your hands on his knees, “you’re gonna do great and win this. like you always do. i’ll make sure of it.”
heeseung almost chokes on his own spit when you suddenly slip between his legs, “wha- what are you doing..?”
“did you not want my help? or did you forget?” you ask him, genuine confusion. “i-if you already-”
“no!” heeseung cuts you off, grabbing your hand with his. “i mean, i still do. i just didn’t think you were down.”
you rub your other hand up his thigh, fingers mere centimeters away from his crotch area. so close to where he needs you, yet so far. “of course i am. what good are best friends if they can’t help each other out?”
heeseungs breath hitches when your hand grazes the zipper of his jeans. he lets go of your other hand and you take it as a cue to keep going.
“just let me take care of you, hee.”
and for the first time ever, that nickname made his cock twitch.
just the view he had of you sitting pretty between his thighs, hesitant but still full of confidence as you softly palmed him through his jeans was enough for him to be leaking.
“can i…” you ask quietly, fingers on the button of his jeans. he nods once and gulps as you immediately pop the button open and move to the zipper. it feels like hours before you’re finally pulling his jeans down below his hips.
you can’t lie and say the bulge of his hardening cock, covered by his calvin kleins, wasn’t making your mouth water. you push his hoodie up slightly, the way your cold fingertips hit his lower stomach as you grab the waistband of his boxers has his stomach tensing under your touch. you let out a small gasp when his cock almost springs out of his boxers.
your best friend is packing.
heeseung almost chuckles when he catches your reaction.
“don’t laugh.”
“i’m not.”
“i can see it!” you argue back.
heeseung rolls his eyes, “please just continue.”
“i won't if you keep up that attitude. you know we have less than fifteen minutes.” you retort after hearing him scoff.
“i can miss rehearsals.”
“heeseu-”
“god, please let me just fuck your mouth.”
oh my god? were you supposed to be turned on? you bite your lip and look down in his lap, taking his cock in your hand with a soft but firm grip. you lean forward and let spit slowly drip from your mouth as you start pumping him.
heeseung lets out a quiet groan and you look up at him—wide eyes that are practically asking, is this good? you continue to gently fist his cock, getting him nice and hard before you start using your mouth on his.
“i hope you win.” is all you say before you kiss his tip and sink your mouth onto him.
the boy is practically seeing stars. you just started and he’s already moaning like a bitch. it felt so good, he can’t rip his gaze from you, watching the way your lips wrap around him tightly and your cheeks hollow out as you literally suck him in.
“fuck, like that…” his hand finds sanctuary wrapped around your hair, not yet pushing you down on his cock completely, but more so as guidance.
you let go out his cock with a pop and continue pumping him with your fist, licking the underside of his base as you make direct eye contact. he lets out a groan and lets his head fall back.
“you don’t have to hold back heeseung,” you mumble, but the lust was evident in your tone. “don’t be gentle, this is for you.”
“holy fuck, don’t say that.” you giggle at his response and smile against his tip before taking him back into your mouth. heeseung grips your hair tighter and pushes you further down his cock per your request. he can hear you inhale deeply through your nose as you attempt to take all of him. but of course you can’t.
you stroke what you can’t fit and let heeseungs hand guide you up and down his cock. he uses all self control to not thrust into your mouth. heeseung hisses through his teeth every time your lips tighten around the tip of his dick, feeling somewhat more sensitive than he usually is.
a guttural moan rips from his throat when your hand comes up to squeeze his balls, offering a helping hand in making him cum soon. time was ticking. but heeseung did not care whatsoever, especially after that move.
he almost wishes he knew how fucking good you were at giving head before all of this. your mouth was so warm, wet and tight around his cock–he was in heaven. heeseung genuinely thinks this is one of the best blowjobs he’s ever gotten. his hips buck, suddenly pushing his cock deep inside of your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. you cough around his cock in surprise but it only spurs your best friend on.
maybe it was the fact that you’re his best friend. sure, it’s not taboo by any means, but there are lines that are never to be crossed in these sorts of relationships–holy shit, heeseung was on cloud 9.
“oh my god,” he whines, “you’re so good at this. fuck–god, don’t stop.”
his words, his moans, his whines–they all send tingles down your spine and straight to your core. you can’t deny the throb in your cunt though.
you continue to squeeze and fondle his balls as you let heeseung completely guide your head deeper onto his cock, thrusting his hips upwards and meeting your mouth halfway. your other hand grips his thigh, keeping you stable and relaxed as he abuses your throat with the head of his cock.
the groan that leaves your mouth when he tugs your hair tighter is accidental, you look up at heeseung. he looks beautiful like this. a pink blush across his cheeks, damp forehead, and hazy eyes. you were surely dripping through your panties now.
“yeah? you like t-this too, huh?” heeseung spits out. now you’re almost jealous of every woman he’s managed to pull, because fuck did that just turn you on even more. “want me to use your mouth however i want?”
you moan in response, nodding your head. heeseung lets out a long exhale as he shoves your head down his cock again. tears line your eyes and threaten to spill over, trying to relax your throat to take him completely.
“y-you’re taking me so good, y’know that? so good, baby.”
immediately, your hand that was once on heeseungs thigh is making its way down and into your shorts. you were soaked.
heeseung lets out another choked moan when he notices your hand in your shorts, circling your clit as you let him fuck your throat. how badly he also wishes you would just take those stupid shorts off and let him see exactly what you’re doing, he yearns to see you play with yourself one day.
“playing with yourself while you let me use this pretty mouth…” heeseung groans, lifting your head for a mere second before pushing you down his cock again. your hand tightens around his balls and he almost whimpers at the sensation. “you like this just as much, fucking pervert.”
you let out a whine, tears falling down your cheeks, you were already so close.
heeseung gets rougher, guiding your head much faster than before. your lips were burning and there was spit completely covering your other hand. but still, you continue to suck and lick at his cock as if it were your last meal, letting him force his way down your throat.
“‘m so close. so fucking close.” now you're both whimpering. “fuckfuckfuck, gonna cum soon, baby. keep going, please, hah–you feel so fucking good.”
his words were enough for you to hit your peak, an orgasm washing through your body immediately. you’re squirming and whining, sending vibrations down heeseungs cock.
“ah, fuck,” he continues to let words fall out of his mouth in the form of broken moans, “y-yeah, ‘ts so good. feels so good.” heeseung suddenly pushes your head all the way down, your nose making contact with the soft hair as the base of his cock, and he cums.
thick, hot ropes of cum covering the back of your throat. you’re gagging and choking at the full feeling, wanting to pull back so badly, but he doesn’t stop–not until he’s milked dry.
after what feels like an eternity, he lets go and you pull back, gasping and coughing but swallowing most of his cum in the process. your hands fly to your neck as you massage it and catch your breath.
heeseung on the other hand was breathing heavily. that was the best orgasm he’s ever had.
“holy fuck.”
you look up at the male, who seemed like he was about to pass out, “hee, you have to go.” your voice is raspy and weak.
“i can’t.” he responds, out of breath. “that was amazing. i can’t move.”
you stand up and pull him up with you, balancing him when he stumbles forward. “seriously, you have to go now.” now you’re putting his cock away for him, he hisses loudly at the feeling but you ignore it and zip up his jeans. “now.”
heeseung sighs and looks down at you, “did you.. get off like that?”
you tighten your lips and nod hesitantly.
“god. god, you’re amazing.” he breathes out, wanting nothing more than to throw you down on the bed and fuck you until he physically cannot. “please, please be here when i get back, i’m literally begging you.”
you nod at him, reassuring him that you’ll be here when he’s done as you usher him out of the hotel room. “i will, hee. just go.” you suppose this is what best friends are for after all.
“and do not show up to the comp tonight or i will be hard the entire fucking time.”
s, smut | f, fluff | a, angst | suggestive is noted
since my fic recs are super popular on my nct blog, I decided to start on this blog! fics with less words and less plot/more smut are near the bottom of the list.
i don't want to be your roommate, i want to kiss your neck [ bestfriend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f,a
let's collab [ camboy!heeseung x camgirl!reader] s
lee heeseung - the brother's best friend trope, part two [ brother's bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f,a
only if you say yes [ enemies to fwb au ] s,f,a
traces of you. [ loser!heeseung x tutor!reader ] s,f,a
cherry [ pervert!heeseung x virgin!reader ] s,f,a
you plus me [ ex-friend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f,a
tides of regret [ ex bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f,a
coffee & cream [ virgin!heeseung x virgin fem!reader ] s,f,a
falling alone [ lieutenant!heeseung x therapist housewife!reader, strained marriage au ] s,f,a
player rank: platinum [ simp gamer!heeseung x fem!reader, sister's bf au ] s,a
only if you say yes (please say yes) [ enemies to lovers au ] s,f,a
two's a company [ incompatible friend!heeseung x fem!reader, forced proximity au] s
i offer you my everything [ basketball captain!heeseung x virgin!reader ] s,f
m.o.r.e. - my only ruined escape [husband's friend!heeseung x fem!reader, toxic marriage au ] s,f,a
not if it's you, part two [ nerd!heeseung x fem!reader, strangers to lovers ] s,f,a
racing, beating [ illegal-racer!heeseung x model!reader, arranged marriaged au ] s
one hundred and one [ little brother's bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,a
how to get back at your ex [ ex!heeseung x fem!reader, coworkers au ] s,f,a
what you need [ boyfriend's friend!heeseung x fem!reader, roommates au ] s,a
you make me [ stranger!heeseung x insomniac!reader ] suggestive
wrong doings [ stepdad!heeseung x stepdaughter!reader ] s,a
cross the line [ childhood best friends to lovers ] s,f
prince charming's mismatch [ prince!heeseung x princess!reader ] suggestive
pool party [ brother's bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader, pool party au ] s,f,a
saint matthew's academy [toxic rich!heeseung x innocent!reader, private school au ] s,f,a
playground crush [ neighbor!heeseung x fem!reader, strangers to lovers ] s
as long as you'll let me [ virgin!heeseung x badgirl!reader ] s
i hate you [ bestfriend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f
the space between [ rich basketball player!reader x flowershop owner!reader ] s,f,a
give it time [ inexperienced!heeseung x jake's sister!reader ] s
conflict of interest [ pool cleaner!heeseung x rich fem!reader ] s
heavenly [ established relationship, stuck inside due to storm au ] s
“just sit on my lap, it’ll be fine” [ gamer!heeseung x fem!reader, no nut november au ] s
two moons [ plug!heeseung x fem!reader ] s
want [ boyfriend!heeseung x fem!reader, first time au ] s
tethered [ emo!heeseung x fem!reader, childhood friends to lovers au ] s,a
mine or yours? [ stepbrother!heeseung x fem!reader ] s
helping hand [ bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s
let me show you [ experienced friend!heeseung x inexperienced fem!reader ] s,f
the girl from the bar [ bartender!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,f
easy access [ ex!heeseung x fem!reader ] s,a
a sucker for the taste [ experienced husband!heeseung x virgin!reader ] s,f
apple cider [ roommate!heeseung x fem!reader ] s
something new [ established relationship au ] s
taste [ munch!heeseung x fem!reader ] s
90 days of pleasure [ enemies to lovers ] s,f,a
teddy bear pajamas [ heeseung x jay's sister!reader ] s
surprise [ established relationship au ] s
plushies and headsets [ bestfriend!heeseung x petite!reader ] s
addicted [roommate!heeseung x tutor!reader ] s
wet [ water gun fight au ] s
road trip [ friend!heeseung x fem!reader, smut in car w friends ] s
diet pepsi [ bestfriend's brother!heeseung x virgin!reader ] s
the love game [ gamer!heeseung x fem!reader, established relationship ] s,f
wet dreams [ roommate!heeseung x fem!reader ] s
attention [ gamer boyfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s
tasty [ bestfriend!heeseung x fem!reader ] s
breaking free [ stoner!heeseung x fem!reader ] suggestive,f,a
forced roommates or forced to be lovers? [ popular pervy!gamer heeseung x popular cheerleader!reader ] s,f
homecoming [ idol!heeseung x fem!reader, established relationship ] s
GENRE: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, squirting, lots of kissing, mention of food, usage of nicknames, featuring jay, jake, sunoo, wonie, karina and ningning (aespa), and beomgyu (txt).
WORD COUNT: 17.4k words
SYNOPSIS: having your enemy in your friend group was tiring enough, however, having him shift into your apartment at the same time all your roommates slash friends had to leave you alone to attend their club’s exchange program for a whole week? yeah, that was your final straw.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni.
A/N: hihi loves <3 i know i’m late, but better late than never, right? this fic wouldn’t have been complete without my loves @hoondrop , @jaeminvore and @jeane-e giving me ideas throughout. i hope you guys will like it :3 (not proofread) all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33
Chapter 1. The café.
The sound of keyboard clicking always clicked your brain in the right way, especially when you were collectively using your brain and will to finish and submit the assignment—which was due in, oh well, thirty minutes.
It should’ve been perfect, you thrived working under pressure, you were researching on your favourite topic and were sitting in the comfort of your favourite cafe. It should’ve been the ideal environment for you to work on and yet, that just wasn’t the case.
You were so close to completing it, finally working your brain to form the best possible conclusion for the assignment, but that was the exact second your train of thought broke, courtesy of the most obnoxiously loud laugh you’d ever had the pleasure of hearing.
“Can’t you shut up for a fucking second?” Your voice boomed through your friend group, reaching the person who was sitting right beside you, “just because you have nothing to do doesn’t mean that others are free of work too,” you ranted, frustration clear on your face.
Your words were clear, however, the guy only smiled in amusement, causing your other friends to sigh.
You took that second to cuss out just how effortlessly devious he looked with his ruffled black hair, his specs perched upon his perfectly upturned nose only hid his dark eyes as he stared at you, his lips a light shade of red from how much he bit it while trying to suppress his laugh, and a smirk always plastered on his annoying little face.
“Can’t you guys stop fighting and fuck it out or something? The sexual tension is so insanely thick, I might have to use a knife to cut it down,” Sunoo huffed out, staring at your way disapprovingly.
“It’s too obvious if I’m being honest, Heeseung can’t stop talking about Y/n even when she’s not around,” Jay went on, giving his input, your eyebrow cocking up his way.
“Wait! Do you remember the Beomgyu guy? Fifteenth March, twenty twenty four, he was coming to ask Y/n out and, Heeseung completely sabotaged it by grabbing her book and running away to some other place as soon as Beomgyu started walking towards Y/n? Which distracted her as she ran after him,” Jungwon said, eyes wide and head nodding as he agreed with himself.
“Oh and, when Y/n got herself the vanilla perfume when she overheard Heeseung mentioning he hated the scent of vanilla?” Winter added.
“Right. When in reality he’s quite literally obsessed with that scent,” Sunghoon chuckled, watching your eyes widen in disbelief.
“And now she smells just like he wants each day, not that he wasn’t obsessed with your scent already,” Ningning helpfully added with a shrug.
You blinked twice to process this, having gone through a series of emotions within the span of two minutes was a tiring process, however, Heeseung was only amused, as if the teasing didn’t get to him at all.
Almost as if he was enjoying it.
“Oh, fuck you guys. He’s not worth my attention.” You side eyed Heeseung, the corner of his lip quirking up with your comment.
You still had your assignment to finish, and there was absolutely no way you were going to sit next to Heeseung with your cheeks heating up at the countless instances of your so called obsession thrown your way, so you got up, trying to collect your papers and laptop, only for your wrist to be grabbed by Heeseung.
“I’m not worth your attention and yet you’re leaving, hm?” He asked, voice so calm, almost as sweet as honey as he stared into your eyes, smirking soon after, “are you sure I don’t affect you in any way, darling?”
A series of hoots slash gasps were heard, which surely disturbed the entire cafe but your friend group lived for the drama.
You scoffed, looking elsewhere, trying to walk away but his grip on your wrist was too strong.
“Let go, Heeseung,” you gritted your teeth.
“Wow,” Sunghoon whispered, sipping on his drink with more interest than ever.
“I think you’re obsessed with me,” he chuckled, voice smoother than velvet, tugging your wrist closer to him, a gasp leaving your mouth as you trip and fall right on his lap, “am I wrong?”
Two flashes went off at that very second, your wide eyes turning to look at Sunoo and Ningning with an accusatory glance as your heart beated out of your chest, his arms holding you close to his body.
“Don’t let us interrupt, go on,” Sunoo nodded, making you groan while Karina tried to say something to calm you down, which your mind didn’t bother registering in the middle of the chaos.
“Don’t fucking create a scene here and let me go,” you warned Heeseung, looking at him, trying to ignore the evident lack of distance between your bodies, and well, your faces.
“Only if you agree to it, darling,” He whispered back.
“I don’t think we should watch this anymore,” Jay coughed out in distance.
“There’s nothing to agree here, Heeseung,” you gritted out, trying to get up and get out of his grasp.
“Yeah?” He asked.
“Yeah,” you whispered.
“Fine, then live with me for a week.”
“What?”
“Wait, what?”
“Huh?”
You didn’t even bother realizing which friend exclaimed what, you just stared at Heeseung in disbelief, hating the fact that his vanilla musk scent was invading your senses.
“Have you officially lost your mind?” You asked, genuinely concerned.
He shook his head with a little chuckle, eyeing the whole friend group as if they’ve been hiding something you should be knowing. Their gulps and inability to meet Heeseung’s eyes only made you more curious, “what the fuck is going on?” You asked.
“We’re practically gonna be roommates now,” Heeseung let out ever so smoothly.
“What?” You asked back dumbly, ignoring Jay’s cough in the background.
“Well, you see,” Karina started with an awkward laugh, “Since Sunoo moved out to live in the dorms now, one room is empty in our apartment,” she explained, playing with her nails just to avoid your gaze.
“And you’re giving it to him?” You asked, thumb pointing at Heeseung in a very demeaning manner.
“Well, ouch,” he commented just to piss you off more.
“Wow guys. And when were you planning on telling me all this?” You asked, annoyance heightened even more, you could feel a headache coming, almost rushing to you from a mile away.
“Well, we’re all going for the exchange program next week so we figured it would be nice for Heeseung to shift before that, given that you both are the only ones in our group who didn’t bother joining our exchange program club,” Jake tried to avoid eye contact as he explained.
Your mind was spinning. Having Karina, Ningning, Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake as your roommates was enough even though Sunoo moved out, albeit you had to pay more rent, but having Heeseung in the same space as you each day? Sharing the necessities, eating together, commenting on your daily lifestyle with the nastiest smirk on his face? Criticizing the way you pair up your comfortable shorts with the same, favourite pair of T-shirt you own each day just because it feels right. The way—
“I don’t think there’s gonna be any problem in all honesty, cause she’s comfortable with me already,” Heeseung pointed out, gripping your waist tighter, a reminder that you were still sitting on his lap.
You gripped on his arm, digging your fingers to hurt him, “I’ll kill you if you don’t let me get up this second,” you seethed out, your ears warmer than ever.
“Just agree to it then, baby,” he whispered, staring at your lips and even your friends had stopped looking your way by now, not wanting to interrupt anymore.
“A week alone with you would be nothing but hell, Lee Heeseung,” you said, still looking into his eyes.
“I’ll take that as a yes then. A bet is a bet baby, don’t fall in love with me,” he winked, loosening his grip on you as you got up right that second.
Even your legs felt wobbly by now, the proximity being too much for you to handle. Yet, you weren’t one to lose.
“Love and me? Ah, yes why not? Your own face is blood red with how much you’re blushing, I hope that helps,” you pointed out before grabbing your belongings and rushing out of the cafe, completely missing the smile on Heeseung’s face.
“They’re down bad, aren’t they?” Jake whisper-asked Jay, who chuckled.
“Yeah. Yes, they are.”
Chapter 2. The humble abode.
Rushing out of the café was the only thing you could manage to do, getting into your car and deciding to do your assignment right there before getting back home and thinking about what happened a few minutes back.
It wasn’t easy.
Not when your ears were burning hot, and you weren’t even sure if it was because of anger or embarrassment. Or the underlying fear of what was to come.
Heeseung was going to be your roommate.
The same Heeseung who had been nothing but annoying throughout your high school years, and now, in your university too. Having the same group of friends helped, it really did as you could avoid him (read: or try to avoid him) but having him invade your personal living space would revoke any sense of comfort for you.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
You were tired, almost lifeless on the couch after you had typed out your assignment, keeping your swirl of emotions to yourself, however, you weren’t gonna let your friends get away with this.
Which is why you attacked Jake as soon as he entered the apartment.
And he silently cussed himself for being the first one to come back home.
“Listen, I know you’re mad,” he started, sighing and brushing his hair back as he made his way towards you, sitting down right next to you.
“I’m so gonna die,” you mumbled.
“But it won’t be that bad, trust me. You won’t even have to be home all day, you can hang out with your friends and just come back, sleep, avoid him and repeat the cycle!” Jake smiled, as if he had solved the biggest problem this world had.
“Right. All my friends, including your stupid ass, will be going out for an exchange program. Did you forget that, Jakey?” you smiled back sarcastically.
“Don’t you have any other friends?” He asked and you slapped his head, “ouch!”
“Where are others anyway?” You asked, looking around the empty apartment.
“Hoon and Ning should’ve been back by now, they left right after you did,” he said, you both stood up a second after in realization.
He tiptoed to the door of Hoon’s room while you made your way to Ning’s room, “ready?” you smiled, “three, two, one—”
And there they were, in their respective rooms, practically eating the faces of their girlfriends.
“Wow, now that’s life,” you chuckled as Ning stopped and looked at you with a red face, while her girlfriend, Nics, waved hi to you.
On the other hand, Sunghoon only cussed out loud, trying to hide his girlfriend, Moon, as he asked Jake to ‘close the damn door.’
“Well, when’s he shifting?” You asked, retrieving back to your old position on the couch.
“I think he’s gonna start sending his stuff in here like, today,” Jake nodded, checking the date.
“I’m gonna explode. This is not how I wanted to spend my vacations,” you groaned and Jake only patted your back softly.
“It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” Jake smiled.
Not even a second later, the sound of the door swinging open startled you, your body shifting close to Jake’s in the process, as he did the same, a hand on top of his beating heart.
As soon as Heeseung entered the apartment, carrying a duffle bag on his back, his eyes fell on how you and Jake sat in close proximity, staring at him with a questionable glare, his eyebrow cocking up at the sight.
“Since when are you guys so close—cozy with each other?” He asked, walking to you both, a scoff leaving your lips as you stood up, standing right in front of him.
“And how’s that any of your business?” You asked, walking away and making sure to bump your shoulder to his in the process.
“Ah,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he heard you walk to your room, slamming the door shut behind you, his eyes finally turning to Jake, giving him a look he couldn’t quite decipher.
Jake only tilted his head, not understanding the enmity between you, also the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room, he only looked at Heeseung with confused eyes as he asked:
“What did I do?”
Chapter 3. Not so humble.
Heeseung loved to make his presence known, especially when he observed how hard you tried to avoid him every passing second, as if you didn’t wish to acknowledge him at all. He was settling in just fine. In fact, he made sure to send in his bed the first thing the next day, which only gave him the perfect opportunity to stay for the dinner, rest the night, and stay for the breakfast before winding up his stuff at his old place.
It was still fine when he sat down next to you for meals, at least you had your friends around for four more days, which helped you ignore the said man for a while.
It was still okay when he continuously poked your arm to ask you for a spoon that was clearly closer to him, yet you passed it to him before turning your attention back to Ning, who was around for three more days.
It was still bearable when he played loud music at night, making sure to blast it on the speaker right after playing video games, which definitely irritated all your friends, but Jay was kind enough to lend you his noise cancellation headphones as you went to sleep, which you could keep for two more days.
It was your last straw when Heeseung stabbed his fork way out of where it should’ve been. There was absolutely no reason for Heeseung to eat from your plate, and not just any dish but your favourite side dish. That’s when you took a deep breath, turning to look at him, only to be surprised as he was ready with his fork up, offering you a bite of the exact same snack he had picked up from your plate.
His brow was raised, and Hoon looked concerned, being the only one who sat down to have dinner with you guys, but Heeseung didn’t really seem to mind.
“What? Don’t wanna eat anymore, princess?” He asked.
“I’d rather die than eat from the same plate as you,” you said, trying to ignore his muscles which were clearly visible as he was clad in the comfort of his tank top.
“Why not? I’ve heard it helps in spreading love y’know?” He said, biting his lower lip as he looked your way.
“Hah, as if.”
“Scared you’ll fall for me?” He smirked.
You scoffed, grabbing his hand and taking a bite of what should have been your meal, chewing it before saying, “let’s see what kind of love is gonna spread now, yeah?”
You gave him a look before retreating back to your room.
“Why exactly are you bothering her?” Hoon asked, taking a spoonful of rice in his mouth, “are you that desperate for her attention, loverboy?”
“C’mon, I’m not in love with her,” Heeseung spoke lazily, eyes still on your closed door.
“Right,” Hoon clicked his tongue, “you’ve never once denied it.”
“It’s just fun to see her bothered, she hates me anyway—”
“—which bothers you, and hence you try to grab her attention even more,” Sunghoon said, as calm as ever.
“Stop. You’re crazy,” Heeseung laughed it off, getting up and throwing a piece of carrot on Hoon, who in turn threw a cap of the water bottle right on Heeseung’s head, making him scream out comically as Hoon chuckled, mumbling something under his breath.
“They’ll be fucking by the time we come back.”
Chapter 4. Not your driver.
“Toothbrush?”
“Check.”
“Laptop?”
“Check.”
“Charger?”
“Check.”
“Passport?”
“Oh fuck, I almost forgot that,” Karina gasped as you helped her finish some last minute packing.
“I don’t wanna go to uni, but I have to submit these files,” you sighed while Karina finally zipped up her bag.
“I would have dropped you there but I have to pick up Ningning from her girlfriend’s place,” she sighed.
The door opened right then, “I couldn’t help but overhear—”
You rolled your eyes, “—eavesdrop.”
“Overhear,” Heeseung repeated, “that you need a ride. I’m going that way I’ll drop you off,” he smiled.
You stared at him, expressionless.
You wanted to punch the perfect smile off his face.
“I told him to be nice to you, so hopefully he’s gonna follow that,” Karina gave her input at your obvious reaction.
You looked her way with a surprised smile, “you did?”
“Of course! You should go now,” she said, shooing you away and asking you to get back as soon as your friends will be leaving by the evening.
“Yeah, we should save the gas and travel together, be good to the environment and our Mother Earth,” Heeseung cheeked.
“Oh! Great, I have to go and submit my file too, can I tag along?” Jake asked, looking at you.
“Yes!”
“No!”
You and Heeseung exchanged glances.
“We’ll share, we have to take care of our environment, Heeseung,” you smiled, grabbing Jake’s arm and walking out of the apartment.
You didn’t wait before getting into the backseat, which made Jake opt for the passenger seat, Heeseung looked your way in disbelief, even more so when you smiled his way.
It was one of the few genuine smiles of yours, which Heeseung didn’t get to see much around him, however it was a given that him being irritated brought you happiness.
Jake’s campus was farther away, yours was comparatively closer, and you looked out as Heeseung played music—one of those bands he loved, but he didn’t stop at your campus.
“Hey, she has to get off,” Jake said, looking at Heeseung.
“I’ll drop you off first, you have a flight in a few hours,” he theorized.
You rolled your eyes.
“Since when do you care so much about everyone?” You asked, looking at his eyes through the front mirror.
“I don’t,” he said, winking back at you, “only you.”
You sighed, closing your eyes as Jake got off, saying a goodbye to you both.
However, Heeseung didn’t start the car again, which caused you to open your eyes again, “why aren’t you driving?”
“I’m not a driver, my love. Sit here,” he patted the passenger seat twice.
“You can’t be serious, it’s literally a five minute drive.”
“Six minutes now that you’ve wasted sixty seconds arguing with me,” he spoke, checking his watch as if that would do anything.
You rolled your eyes yet again, something you’d do quite frequently around him, but nevertheless, you got off and walked to the passenger seat, closing the door shut and grabbing the seatbelt, only to turn around and see Heeseung’s face right in front of you.
“W—what are you doing?” You asked, breath shaky.
“Was gonna help you with the belt, but you’re fast hm?”
“I can do it—”
“Shh, just sit comfortably,” he whispered, his warm fingers touching yours, covering your hand fully before you let go of the belt, allowing him to buckle you up.
His messy hair fell on his forehead in soft waves, a constellation of light freckles covered his cheek, a broken eyelash rested there comfortably, and his scent, his ever so present scent invaded your scenes yet again.
“You’ve got a little something here,” you told him gently, pointing out where his eyelash was.
“Oh, just a minute,” he mumbled, carefully picking it up and placing the lash on the back of his hand.
Observing him was all you could do, especially when he looked so innocent as he closed his eyes, mumbling something under his breath before he curled his lips into a sweet pout, blowing the air on his fist in a gentle breeze.
“What did you wish for?” You asked before you could stop yourself.
He chuckled, only looking your way, “let me know if it comes true, princess.”
You couldn’t speak anymore, even when he leaned back with a slight smile on his face, starting the car again and driving.
You somehow subtly kept on noticing him, his grip on the steering wheel, the veins prominent on his hand and arms, his lip bitten in slight concentration. You shook your head, looking outside again, and in no time, you were in front of your campus.
“You’re welcome, princess,” he spoke, voice ever so smooth and you simply squeaked out a thank you before rushing out.
You blamed his scent.
It was all because of his scent.
Chapter 5. Home Alone.
It was three minutes past seven, the sun was setting and so was your mood as you bid goodbye to your friends who were filling up their bags in the backseats of the cabs they had booked.
Jay was busy giving you a list of things to take care of while they were gone. Karina hugged you as she waved a bye, Ningning only winked your way, looking at Heeseung right after. Sunghoon and Winter were already sitting in the car, too excited to leave while Jake waved at you like a happy puppy.
Heeseung stepped right in front of you, waving back with more enthusiasm than he had ever displayed before, screaming happy journey to everyone as the cars left one by one.
That’s what you have to deal with now.
With that, Heeseung made his way into the apartment again as you stood there for a minute more, slapping your forehead a few times, “I can do it,” you whispered, “it’ll be okay, I’ll keep myself busy, I’ll be okay.”
Overthinking was your detrimental forte, the one that Heeseung never failed to fuel. You should catch him off guard too, shouldn’t you? You should’ve grabbed his collar and warned him instead of freezing on the spot.
Your train of thought broke the second you stepped into the house, being caught off guard yet again by none other than Lee Heeseung, who so carefully grabbed one of your wrists and pinned you against the door, closing it right behind you in a swift go, “hi,” he smiled.
You’ve had enough, grabbing his collar into a fist and pulling him even closer, “fuck,” he groaned.
“It hasn’t even been a fucking minute and you’re already making my life a living hell, I swear to god, Heeseung.” You let go of the collar, grabbing his hair by the nape to pull him away.
The action which caused him to moan.
You let go of him that very second as he closed his eyes, “you’re such a pervert. Ew! What the fuck?” You looked at him with wide eyes, even more so when he chuckled deeply, his eyes on you again.
“Can’t blame me for that one, it feels really good, princess,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender.
“This won’t do,” you said, a hand on your forehead again.
“So what? Wanna set up rules like they do in those stupid movies?” He suggested, sitting down on the couch and looking at you, as if he expected you to sit down with him.
“Rules?” You pondered for a second, “yeah, anything to keep your behaviour in check,” you mumbled, and soon, you both were sitting on the opposite chairs of the dining table as you scribbled down the rules.
Y/N and Heeseung’s one week agreement <3
1. No touching each other.
2. No stealing food.
3. No loud music and video games.
4. No bringing guests without prior notice.
“No guests?”
“No. Keep your girlfriends away from here, understood?” You asked.
He chuckled, amused, “why? Would that bother you, princess? You don’t have to worry y’know? You’ll always be the number one in my heart,” he winked, resting his hand on his chest.
“No, thanks. Still don’t want you,” you told him, even though his last statement did sound sincere.
Way too sincere for your own liking.
“Can I write too?” Heeseung asked, and you raised your brow.
“Since you asked nicely.”
5. Chores will be divided equally.
6. One hour bonding time each day.
7. Y/N can’t avoid Heeseung.
“Why do we need bonding time?” You asked midway.
“Cause we’re gonna live together, so we should put our differences aside,” he shrugged, and you stared at him.
“We can just ignore each other.”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?”
“This isn’t a game, Heeseung.”
“But it’s exciting,” he said, and you sighed.
Arguing with him was pointless.
“Okay, fine.”
9. Maintain cleanliness.
That was the last point you added before you both signed the sheet, agreeing to add more in case you come up with any rules. It was the most normal you had been with Heeseung, but you still wanted to be away.
You didn’t wanna hurt yourself.
You tried not to think about it as you went to sleep, but it didn’t work much, not when your mind was hyper aware of the silence in the apartment. That’s when you decided to get up and grab a midnight snack, perhaps a cup of noodles would help you sleep better.
With tiredness still evident in your eyes, you worked the stove on, grabbing a pot to heat up water, standing still as you took the support of the marble countertop, your palms lay flat on it as you stared at the packet of mint chocolate that was in the shelf in front of you, something that Sunoo possibly had forgotten to take with him.
“Not sleepy?” A husky voice made you gasp and turn around, caging you right in between the counter and Heeseung.
“Fuck! You scared me,” you gasped at his shirtless figure, “why the fuck are you awake and why are you not clothed?” You asked, distressed.
“I heard noises from the kitchen so I obviously had to come over and check,” he said, tilting his head innocently right after, “I have to make sure the princess is safe, right?”
“I can very well take care of myself, thanks,” you huffed, waiting for him to move, which did not happen.
“Okay, then try pushing me away,” Heeseung said, a slight close-lipped smile present on his face.
You simply made use of the little space to pour the hot water into the cup noodles, covering it with its lid.
“You love these games too much, don’t you?” You said, finally looking up to see his body right in front of your face.
With thick yet lean muscles, he stood tall, his clavicles visible in an attractive fashion as the dim lights of the room only enhanced the slight traces of his abs, making it evident that Heeseung included working out in his daily routines.
You gulped unknowingly, closing your eyes for a second before meeting him, only for his eyes to fall on your lips for a slight enough, just enough for you to miss it.
“Not gonna push me?” He asked, still playful, but with a gentle rasp in his voice.
“You’re not appropriately clothed for me to touch you, Heeseung,” you said, trying to muster a bored, unimpressed expression, as if your ears weren’t burning warm.
“Why? Does skin to skin contact scare you now?” He challenged, “one touch is all it takes, babe.”
“Oh lord,” you groaned, stretching your neck back, only to find Heeseung’s gaze more intense than ever, “fine, move.”
You placed your cold hand on his warm torso, right above his heart, and you could have sworn it was beating a tad bit faster than how a normal heart should be beating.
Pushing him was practically impossible, especially when he bit his lip and chuckled, not moving an inch despite your efforts. The room felt warm as you scoffed and retrieved your hand.
“Can’t move?” He teased.
“I’m just tired, move.”
“Or, you’re just weak.”
“That’s all you can do Heeseung, challenge a tired girl who’s trying to eat.” You pushed him again.
“I’m strong, princess. Don’t you see?” He pointed at his body, and you closed your eyes yet again, trying to convert your feelings into anger.
“Your body might be strong but your fucking ego is weak.” You said finally shoving him enough for you to move.
“Now, now. That’s wrong, princess.” He said, grabbing your cup noodles and testing your patience yet again.
Messing with you was one thing.
Messing with you while you were sleepy was another thing.
But messing with you while you were sleepy and hungry, that was war.
“Give me the noodles back you small dicked asshole!” You chased after him.
He stopped you easily with a hand, twirling you around and pulling you back, his bare chest pressed against your back.
“Small dick, hm?” He mumbled, keeping the noodles on the counter beside you, dragging his warm fingers across your bare tummy, stopping right on your belly button, “it would go up to here, yeah,” he caressed the area before letting go of you.
You stood there, breathing hard as your cheeks burned with the implication of his cock in your cunt, deep inside you at that.
“How do you even get women, all talk and no action?” You asked, walking back to your room with the noodles in your hands, avoiding the fact that you were completely flustered.
“Oh I’ll show you all the action you need to see, princess,” he winked as you turned to look at him, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatpants, “g’night, darling,” he smirked, walking away as you spent the night punching your pillow, eating your now soggy noodles.
Lee Heeseung was going to be the end of you.
Chapter 6. A proof?
In the span of a few days that Heeseung shifted at your apartment, you realized a few things.
First, Lee Heeseung loved being shirtless.
Second, Lee Heeseung was a good cook.
And third, Lee Heeseung was the biggest flirt known to mankind.
Now, putting them all together; you didn’t expect to wake up with the scent of fresh waffles and fruits spreading around the apartment. Nor did you expect Heeseung to set up a plate full of breakfast for you right around the time you woke up, that too with the biggest smile on his face.
It felt like a dream almost, and you were ready to ignore his shirtless body that gave you goosebumps and a sincere smile that almost made you smile too, to thank him.
But then, he did what he had to.
He opened his mouth and ruined it, going on about how you should eat fruits, it makes the cum taste sweeter, he said munching on an apple, laughing louder when you threw a spoon at him. That added to your annoyance simply because of the fact that he was practically glowing even in the morning, the radiant aura was too much for you to handle and you simply decided to avoid and ignore everything to have a spa day to yourself.
Heeseung did question why you were leaving, and you didn’t miss the hint of frown that was plastered on his face for a split second when he learned that you wouldn’t be around for the day, which you ignored because why would he even be sad? Just because he wouldn’t get to bother you today? That must be it.
“Come back soon, I still have things to prove to you,” he said, and you didn’t know what to expect anymore as you left the apartment.
There’s some sort of power in self care that makes you feel as if nothing could ever go wrong with you once you’re fully pampered, especially when your nails are freshly done, shaded in your favourite tone.
It’s seven in the evening when you get back home with three bags full of clothes hanging on your arms. Retail therapy was the way to go, it definitely de-stressed you for the day. It was too peaceful, and you didn’t know what was to come when you unlocked the door to your apartment, entered the hallway, taking off your shoes and furrowing your brows at the extra pair of heels there, along with the unusual sound.
You couldn’t quite pinpoint the noise that you were hearing. It wasn’t the usual music Heeseung played, nor was it the sound of the gaming system he often used, so you stepped in further, your heart pounding as the weak whimpers and the sound of slapping got closer.
The door to Heeseung’s room was wide open, and you found yourself peeking in before you could stop yourself, only for your eyes to go wider than ever as you saw what was going on inside.
The lights were dimmed, set to blue which made the room look hotter. On the bed was a girl you had never seen before, her face buried into the mattress as she made lewd noises, your mouth hung open, your heart beating faster as your eyes met that of Heeseung’s, his hair messier than ever and the cockiest smirk plastered on his face.
He was naked.
He was fucking the most brutal backshots into the cunt of the stranger, holding onto her waist and squeezing it, as if putting up a show for you as Meddle about by Chase Atlantic played in the background.
“Heeseung?” You whispered to yourself, your eyes never leaving his thick cock, observing his strong thrusts as if you were dazed—which you were.
And if that wasn’t enough, Heeseung had to take it up a notch by groaning out your name, spanking the girl’s ass and throwing his head back, mumbling your name and gulping as you saw his adam’s apple bobbing up and down.
He was fucking another girl and thinking of you, deliberately so.
You were too shocked to function, your arms losing their strength as your bags fell to the ground. The noise made you snap out of your dazed state, and soon you found yourself running to your room, locking the door behind you and leaning on it, covering your mouth as your chest heaved up and down.
That’s when you realized what Heeseung was trying to do—he proved it.
He proved exactly what he had promised you at night, and you knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight, simply because the guy you hated had proved it.
He indeed had a big fucking cock.
And he knew exactly how to use it.
Sleep was merely a concept to you for the majority of the night. How could you even close your eyes when you could see the most vivid image of Heeseung fucking a girl the second your eyelids close?
You had goosebumps over your body, your thighs pressed together as you thought back upon how he specifically groaned your name right after he saw you watching him.
“Ugh!” You groaned, rolling around and punching the pillow out of pure frustration.
You hated Heeseung yet he was the only thing on your mind.
“This can’t be real, there’s no way this is real,” you mumbled to yourself, your face getting hotter by the second but somehow, you managed to shut your eyes and drift to the wonderful place called the dreamland.
Chapter 7. Adulterated retaliation.
Overthinking was going to be your demise.
If it wasn’t enough as it was when you were awake, it was worse when you were asleep in your subconscious because there was no way you had just woken up with a gasp and, well, wetness in your panties that seeped through them and covered the crotch of your shorts.
You had a wet dream about the very man you swore you hated.
Grabbing your pillow, you hid your face as you let out a scream, looking distressed as you stared at your reflection when you got up. Flashbacks of how you dreamed to be the girl Heeseung fucked were scattered all over your mind.
“He groaned my name,” you mumbled, trailing your hand down your pants and into your panties, caressing the length of your cunt only for your pretty manicured fingers to come out soaked in your wetness.
“Fuck,” you groaned, “I need to avoid him.”
You knew for a fact that after last night, avoiding Heeseung would be the most difficult thing to do, cause he wouldn’t let it slide by any means.
However, you were surprised when you saw the kitchen and dining area empty, a plate was still kept there full of food for you, and you couldn’t be happier sitting peacefully and having your brunch, now that you had woken up late.
It was only when you were done washing your hands, wiping them clean of water with the towel, you felt someone’s presence behind you, and before you could fully turn around, Lee Heeseung had his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, your body going stiff as a reminder of what had happened yesterday, but at least he was fully clothed today.
“Pretty nails,” he inspected them, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “hold this,” he asked you, giving you a bottle, not waiting for you to hold it as he practically made you wrap your fingers around it.
“The fuck—” you opened your mouth but Heeseung let go that very second.
“Yeah, they would look pretty wrapped around my c—” he mumbled, walking away, leaving you shocked yet again.
At this point, you were pretty sure he was toying with you cause there’s no way he was acting so nonchalant about everything he did since he shifted to your, now his too, apartment.
You sighed loudly, keeping the bottle away on the counter before you leaned back against it, wondering what to do to deal with Heeseung. There was a bitter feeling in your chest, you weren’t sure why. Was it that easy for Heeseung to bring someone home? Fuck rules, he didn’t care about any of that. You wondered why you both even bothered to make them in the first place.
And somehow, just somewhere deep inside you, there was this feeling that you wanted to do something similar to take revenge on him. But would you call a guy to aimlessly fuck you on your bed? No.
You’d rather call a guy up for a hangout, a guy who was actually your friend and didn’t go for the exchange program, a guy you knew Heeseung despised.
Maybe that would keep Heeseung at bay.
Or maybe that’ll make him jealous and keep you closer.
A voice whispered from inside your subconscious, and you clenched your jaw, wondering why you couldn’t decide which scenario you would prefer more.
Nevertheless, you went on with the plan, texting Gyu to ask him if he was free for the day, mentally thanking the teacher that paired you up with him last semester for a presentation, courtesy of which you got his number. He called you the second his phone chimed from your text.
“Y/N,” he practically cheered, you could feel the happiness ooze out of his voice, and you smiled as you asked him how he’s been, and if he was free this evening.
“Fuck! I have to run errands today, can I come over tomorrow though?” He asked and you sighed, saying yes.
At least you’ll have a distraction tomorrow, right?
“How do you miss me all of a sudden though? Finally realized you’re in love with me?” He chuckled, asking you the question and you shook your head laughing, knowing he couldn’t see you.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Gyu, I’m just bored at home, yeah?” You explained, and he promised that he’d be there to entertain you tomorrow afternoon.
Now though, you weren’t sure what to do for the day. Writing a diary? Nah. Listening to podcasts? Your brain was too clouded for that. You simply opted to take a shower and go out for a drive. It wasn’t like you were inexperienced by any means, it was just the fact that you hadn’t had sex in long which is why you were so frustrated.
Right?
You gulped, letting the warm water droplets caress your skin as they cascaded down the curves of your body. Even the slightest touch made you feel good, the bathroom getting fogged up as you took your time with the shower. But were you satisfied? You could hear the music blasting from Heeseung’s room now and his level of unbothered definitely bothered you.
“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” you groaned, stepping out after getting ready for your drive. You thank the lords that you had a car, and you simply decided to visit the lake nearby as you grabbed your car keys and put on your shoes.
“Where are you going?” Heeseung asked, and you wondered how he always had the perfect timing when it came to you being out of your room.
“Away from you,” you mumbled.
He chuckled, “why, princess? What’d I do?” He rasped, and you didn’t bother looking at him, tightening your laces the second you heard him call you that stupid nickname yet again.
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you grumbled, standing up, “you’ve been breaking rules left right and straight ever since you entered this apartment, and the audacity to bring someone else home to fuck while keeping the door open and—” you said it all in a breath, closing your eyes simply because you couldn’t repeat what he had done.
“And?” Heeseung came closer, and you looked at his wet bangs as if he had freshly come out of the shower.
Your tongue poked your inner cheek as you grabbed his T-shirt, something he did not expect as his hand landed on your waist, pulling you to him, “you’re so fucking annoying, I hate you,” you seethed out.
You could clearly see him being flustered, probably because you instigated this interaction, “you hate me?” He asked, dazed, looking down at your lips, “you sure? Cause I think you’re in love with me.”
“You’re the one who’s looking at my lips, you’re the one who was moaning out my name, you’re the one who’s dreaming about my fingers wrapped around your fucking cock,” you finally let out, “are you sure it’s not you who’s craving me?” You chuckled.
You had officially lost your mind.
“I—” Heeseung started, his eyes never leaving yours, but you could see a hint of uncertainty on his face, as if he was contemplating on saying something, and you didn’t let him.
“You’re pathetic.” You let go of him, pushing his shoulder, but he only grabbed your neck and pulled you back, his other hand now behind your head so you wouldn’t hurt yourself as he pushed you against the wall.
“Yeah? And you’re not? Are you not thinking about last night, Y/N?” You gasped as his lips barely caressed yours.
You would feel your knees giving up, especially when he took your name with such emphasis that you couldn’t help but look at him, his fingers coming up from your neck to your jaw, cupping it gently before he placed his thumb on your bottom lip.
“Isn’t that why you’ve been avoiding me, hm? You wanna be that girl so fucking bad, don’t you?” A shiver went down your spine as his voice got deeper by an octave.
“Shut up,” you breathed out.
“Why, princess? Do you not wanna kiss me?” He bit his bottom lip as you stared at him hopelessly, your breath hitched as your heart hammered against your ribcage.
“No,” you mumbled.
He smirked, “no?”
“Heeseung,” you whispered, frustration clear in your voice.
You hated him.
And you hated yourself more for wanting to kiss his stupidly inviting lips.
“Yes, baby?”
“I—”
“You?”
“Please,” you closed your eyes, not believing the situation yourself.
“Please what, my love?”
You whined, not having it in you to say it out loud.
“I won’t kiss you till you say yes,” he shook his head slowly, his thumb still tracing your lip.
“Fuck it, yes,” you groaned, pulling him closer by his collar as he quickly cupped your face.
His lips were plush against yours, warm and inviting to the point he was rushing to have you closer to him, absorbing the moan that you barely got to let out. He was needy, almost as frustrated as you, your fingers gripping the hair on his nape, a gasp leaving his mouth as you both leaned back for a microsecond, still connected by a string of saliva.
You were on your tiptoes, your body getting warmer by the second, pressed against his as you breathed heavily as he licked your mouth open, shoving his tongue in to get a taste of you, his warm breath made you lose your last bit of sanity. He was groaning, trying to get used to your taste, something which he had wanted to do for a while now. He was practically drooling into your mouth like a hungry puppy, his spit dripping down your chin. Your tongue was quick to lap it up when he leaned back to breathe, but his own tongue was quick enough to rest on yours as you both tasted your mixed saliva.
That’s exactly when you opened your eyes, only to see Heeseung’s flushed face looking at you with dark, desperation filled eyes. That’s when you finally came back to your senses.
You had just kissed Heeseung.
And you liked it.
Well, fuck!
You had to run, you had to leave.
That’s exactly what you did, panic clear on your face as Heeseung saw you rush out of his arms and run out of the apartment, he called out your name but you didn’t look back, your heartbeat skyrocketing as you started your car to drive away.
It was all a blur to you as you somehow managed to reach the lakeside parking, which was almost empty on the side you had parked your car. Your mind was elsewhere, the taste of him lingered on your lips.
“What did I just do?” You asked yourself, covering your mouth as you groaned.
Mentally slapping yourself, even more so when you shifted in your seat, only to discover that you felt wetness in your panties. They were soiled simply because Heeseung had shoved tongue in your mouth.
“Fuck you, Lee Heeseung,” you mumbled closing your eyes and leaning your head against the cold window, slowly unbuttoning your jeans, unzipping them right after.
“I hate you, I hate you,” you whispered, letting your fingers travel down your body, and into your panties.
The cold of your fingertips juxtaposed the warmth of your cunt, the warmth of your clit, your body reacting to the touch as you gasped, the image of Heeseung’s slender fingers crossing your mind as you pressed your cunt to feel something, anything, that would make you feel better. You were soaking wet.
All you wanted was to be taken care of, you wanted this frustration to go away and it didn’t matter that you were in public, your car windows were tinted for a reason as you spread your legs and pulled your bottom wear down, exposing your cunt. A deep shaky breath left your mouth as you placed your fingers yet again.
Heeseung would rub your cunt in gentle circles.
Your subconscious said, as you stimulated your cunt, your eyelids fluttered close, thinking about Heeseung and his veiny hands. That’s exactly what you needed—what you craved.
Heeseung was right, you’re the one who’s been so desperate to have him, that was proof enough as you moaned out his name, shoving two fingers inside your cunt that was begging to be filled with Heeseung’s cock. You threw your head back, desperately fucking yourself, teasing your neglected clit with your other hand.
“Ah—fuck!” You cried out, thrusting your hips up to meet your fingers. It was almost pathetic how needy you were being, especially when you didn’t even remember the last time being this horny.
Truth be told, no guy ever made you this wet with just a kiss, so it was definitely concerning how Heeseung (read: your enemy) had managed to do so just by provoking you non stop.
You mumbled his name, your thighs closing when you felt your high approaching, sweat forming on your forehead as you leaned against your seat, your right on the edge, a few more thrusts and you’d be done.
Your breathing gets louder, the plea of Heeseung’s name only makes your climax approach faster as you thrusted your digits in, sloppily so, a tear rolling down your cheek as the image of Heeseung moaning out your name flashed in your mind. That was your last straw.
Your thighs shook as your body tensed up, the familiar feeling of your unadulterated pleasure approaching washed over your body, now more powerful than ever, coating your fingers with your juices of desperation.
You were breathing hard, trying to come back to yourself after having the quickest, best orgasm of your life which most certainly did fog up your side of the window.
That’s when you let everything settle in your head, a scoff leaving your lips as you realized.
You wanted Lee Heeseung.
Chapter 8. Revenge, sue for damages?
It felt like a walk of shame when you entered the apartment again, being careful to tiptoe, as to not alert Heeseung of your presence by any means. Too much had happened to you in the span of two days, and you weren’t sure how you’d even get on terms with all of this.
You had successfully closed the door to your room by the time a thought popped up in your mind: what would Heeseung be up to now?
He didn’t have any time to react when you left, even then he was calling out your name. You wondered if he even wished to talk to you anymore. You wondered if it was just a game to him, now that you had realized that you actually truly did want a piece of him, you couldn’t help but think if he wanted the same, or was it just his way to maybe bother you?
You had no clue, and you most certainly weren’t going to confront him about it, you hated every bit of confrontations, and this was something that made you want to run away and never come back.
Heeseung on the other hand was wide awake and aware of your presence. He felt calm now that you were back, he had been worried ever since you left hours ago, you never once checked your phone when he called you, it was on do not disturb, and you hadn’t checked it. Heeseung wondered what you’d think of him when you see 26 missed calls on your phone.
He was confused, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he touched his lips again for the nth time today, frowning right after as he thought of you never wanting to talk to him again.
Did he go too far this time?
He was dazed, a groan left his mouth as he punched the pillow next to him, he couldn’t control himself, not when you were so close to him, not when your scent lured him in. That wasn’t how he expected to kiss you, but now that he knew what you tasted like, it was hard for him to think of anything else but your lips.
However, the thought of you hating him kept him awake.
The thought of him hating you kept you awake.
And somehow you both fell asleep at the same time, your mind too tired to form another thought as you let the sleep take over.
You knew you’d wake up late, you were bound to wake up at 2 when you had slept (barely) at four in the morning.
However, in the midst of this chaos, you very conveniently forgot the plans you had made the prior day. Your head was hurting when you woke up, and you had no plans to go out of your room as you got up and took a shower in the bathroom attached to your room.
“Ugh, why’s my life like this?” You asked yourself as you brushed.
There was no answer, which only irritated you more.
It wasn’t the best day, of course, but you decided to dress up a little just so you could feel better—something you did when you felt down, despite not having a reason to dress up. You had to keep yourself occupied, especially when you could hear the cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen, which only made you hyper aware of how Heeseung was so close to you, yet so far away.
Were you making a big thing out of this?
You shook your head, grabbing your favourite cherry gloss and applying it over your lips, the lips that kissed Heeseung last night. It was hard not to stare at your lips in the mirror after that, you simply got zoned out yet again.
You’ve had enough of this, you sighed as you grabbed your phone, getting comfy on your bed yet again as you finally unlocked it, scrolling through the notifications to find something you didn’t expect.
26 missed calls from Heeseung.
Did this mean that he was actually worried? Maybe he had something to say? Maybe he wanted to tell you that he didn’t wish to talk to you anymore? Or maybe he simply wanted to confront you about it?
You were contemplating as you stared at the notifications, almost getting up to ask Heeseung about it, but then another ping of your phone stopped you right before you could go on outside.
Gyu 🐰: I’m here!!
Gyu 🐰: Do I ring the bell or will that be disturbing?
Fuck.
You had called Beomgyu in for the day, the past few events lingered so hard in your mind that this fully skipped your mind. And he was outside already, which means if he rings the bell then Heeseung would probably be the one to answer the door.
“Oh no,” you stood up, almost tripping on your feet as you heard the bell ring.
The door was open by the time you opened the door to your room, only to find Beomgyu and Heeseung right in front of each other.
“—I didn’t know you lived here,” Beomgyu said, patting Heeseung’s shoulder as you observed them carefully.
Heeseung had his jaw clenched, his eyes on the flower bouquet that Gyu had oh so conveniently bought for you. That’s exactly when Gyu spotted you, waving at you and saying your name in a cheerful tone, that made Heeseung turn to look at you.
Only to find you dressed up, as if you got ready for Beomgyu, a scoff leaving his mouth which you missed as you stared at each other for a few seconds, not sure what to say.
That’s when you simply grabbed Gyu’s arm and dragged him to your room, closing the door behind you as he simply let you do everything with a whipped smile on his face.
“Oh so we’re moving fast today, hm? You look so fucking pretty by the way—” he started blabbering, making himself feel comfortable on your bed.
“Shh,” you groaned, “stop please,” you whispered, and that’s when he realized that you were being serious.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, concern evident on his face.
“A lot,” you said, grabbing his arm and making him face you, “are you ready for some gossip, Gyu?”
You didn’t give him a chance to reply, telling him everything from the very start as his eyes widened. He let out a scream or two in between which definitely hurt your ears, and you were hiding your face by the time you reached the part where you kissed Heeseung.
“I’m so jealous right now,” Gyu said out loud and you only gave him a look before continuing, leaving the majority of the part where you touched yourself, but also including the fact that you’ve been sexually frustrated.
“So that’s what happened,” you said, gulping down and looking up at him.
He only blinked, once and then twice.
“So what I’m gathering here is the fact that Heeseung likes you and you, very sadly, like him back. Not to mention how you’re itching to have him fuck you,” he said, counting god knows what on his fingers, “bro really fucked a random girl after being hopelessly in love with you to prove his point, goddamn,” he whispered under his breath.
“Oh shut up,” you mumbled, pouting at the reminder, “he doesn’t love me.”
“Are you blind? He chased me away each time I tried to approach you,” he said, eyes wide as he tried to tell you how wrong you were, your heart beating faster all of a sudden.
“I’m gonna kill myself actually.” A groan left your mouth as you covered your face, “I’m so embarrassed, so confused.”
“You know what? You should fuck me to even things out with him,” Gyu said in the most innocent voice ever and you looked up at him yet again.
“Gyu.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up.”
“Okay.”
He only chuckled, coming closer to you with a mischievous smile, “oh so you wanna fuck Heeseung, hm? Not me? Only Heeseung? Wow, you’re so down bad,” he teased you and you somehow tried to push him away but he only got louder.
“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled as he went on singing something.
“Heeseung and Y/N sitting under a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” He screamed.
That’s when you got up and started tickling his sides, to which he had an explosive reaction as he fully let out a whine like the subbiest-sub ever, moaning out your name shamelessly as you hit his chest, asking him to shut up and lower his voice.
But that didn’t stop him from whining again when your fingers accidentally touched the sliver of his tummy, making him giggle like a kid right after, “please—go slow,” he cried out.
You stopped, looking at him being completely helpless and pouting, which was enough to get a giggle out of you, “oh lord,” you mumbled, shaking your head at his endless antics.
It certainly did help how he was there to listen to you, and of course, how he randomly suggested playing a game right after he was done whining.
However, what you didn’t know was that Lee Heeseung had his ear pressed against your door, his timing ever so convenient as he managed to hear whines and groans reverberating your room, that being his last straw as he stomped away, back into his room to possibly throw a vase away or two, but he simply resorted to punching the wall a few times, his blood boiling at the imaginary image of you being intimate with Beomgyu of all people.
He sighed, punching the wall again, leaning his head against it right after, “this can’t be happening,” he mumbled, getting away and dramatically falling down on his bed with a face that screamed upset.
Heeseung felt like his life was ruined.
Beomgyu was living his best life teasing you.
You felt as if your life was a game as you sat down to play a board game with Gyu.
It was kind of funny how you were playing the game of life.
It was even funnier when Gyu added a blue peg to your car after you got married at the church and named the peg Heeseung.
It wasn’t funny that Heeseung had yet again tried to eavesdrop by standing in front of your room, only to hear you and Gyu laughing about something, a clear reminder that he made you laugh, that you enjoyed your time with him.
Heeseung stared at the door as if he couldn’t believe this.
He had to do something.
Chapter 9. The thin line between hate and love.
It was dark outside by the time Gyu left your apartment, peacefully so, as there was no sight of Heeseung when you got out of your room and it gave you enough time to clean up and take yet another shower, getting comfy in your shorts again.
You weren’t sure what was in your mind anymore, while it was a given that you appreciated the distraction Beomgyu provided you with, you were also confused about everything that’s been happening lately, and even if you did hate confrontations, you wanted to confront Heeseung about this.
However, it was nearing midnight by the time you realized exactly how hungry you are, munching on snacks did not help you much through the day and you didn’t have much energy to go and cook something for yourself.
So, you opted for home delivery from one of your comfort food restaurants, happy about the fact that they were quick to deliver your meal, even if it was late at night. You paid the delivery man and headed straight to the kitchen to grab a plate and fork.
“Hungry, hm?” A deep voice spoke right beside your ear, alarming you as you turned around to look at Heeseung, who didn’t have a hint of a smile on his face, which was an unusual sight as he was always sporting at least a little grin if not more.
“Hee—” you gulped.
“—yeah?” He asked, his warm fingertips resting on your chin as he made you look up at him, “look at me.”
You still couldn’t look in his eyes.
He scoffed, “you’re funny honestly, one second you’re kissing me as if your life depends on it, and the next second you’re fucking another guy,” he said, clicking his tongue before he poked his inner cheek with it.
You didn’t expect this to happen, and you most certainly weren’t expecting Heeseung to be mad about it. Did he interpret it wrong? You didn’t fuck Beomgyu, but that’s exactly what Heeseung thinks it is that you did the whole day, the whines probably didn’t help, and it was no secret that Gyu was loud in everything he did.
Heeseung had you caged in his arms again, something he had done quite a few times after he shifted into your apartment, but the proximity never failed to faze you, his scent was as intoxicating as ever, and but at least he had decency to wear a loose fitted t-shirt this time.
You were zoning out again, but at the same time you were focused on his lips and how bruised they looked, as if he had been biting them out of frustration all day—the same lips you had so desperately kissed just yesterday, the same lips who had taken over your senses. They were so close to you again.
“Why do you care?” You asked, something you’ve been meaning to ask for a while, your face devoid of emotions.
“What?” He asked, taken aback by the sudden irritation that your voice now held.
“Why the fuck do you care, Lee Heeseung? Isn’t this just a game to you, hm? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along?” You pointed your finger at him.
It had started to rain outside, the downpour making the atmosphere seem darker than usual, you weren’t the biggest fan of rain, and the situation only made it worse.
“Why the fuck do you not understand?” He groaned, his arms on either side of you now as he took a shaky breath in, looking aside for a second as if trying to control his emotions from bursting out, “you think it’s a fucking game to me?”
“What else?” You scoffed, you needed him to say whatever was on his mind, you needed to rile him to the point he couldn’t help but tell you exactly what was going on, “is it not a game that you sabotage every time someone tries to approach me? Or when you keep bothering me with your constant attempt to pick fights? So why’s it a problem that I called Gyu here—”
“—don’t call him that.”
“Why not? Don’t like it? It’s so cute—”
Heeseung scoffed, “did he fuck you that good?” He asked, his blood practically boiling by now.
You bit your bottom lip, smirking right after, “better than the girl you fucked, seeing how she didn’t come back for more.”
“Yeah, princess. That’s why you wish you were her, right? You watched me fuck her with wide eyes, you gulped your drool down when you saw my dick thrusting into her cunt—you wanted it to be yours, I saw the jealousy in your eyes, baby. You can’t lie to me,” he whispered, his lips caressing yours.
“Or, you’re jealous cause it wasn’t you who fucked me. Isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that why you were moaning my fucking name?” You asked, your head tilted slightly to provoke him even more.
“Yeah,” he breathed out, making you look up at him in confusion as you saw him being dead serious about what he was saying, his eyes dark, “Yes I’m jealous, I fucking hate it, cause you’re mine.”
“What?” You were taken aback.
“Why? What’s so surprising, princess?” He chuckled, and you swore the butterflies you felt in your body were going feral, “you’re mine, are you not?” He asked in a whisper.
The indirect confession hung in the air, the sound of your breathing along with the heavy raindrops was loud, but not louder than your own thoughts. You couldn’t believe this was happening, it’s you who pushed him to confess, but it wasn’t something you had expected.
There was nothing but sincerity in the way he stared at you, waiting for some kind of reply, and suddenly you were back in fifth grade, trying to make sense of your feelings for the same guy who stood in front of you, your lips parting to say something, but it was hard for you to form words.
He had you trapped, mentally and physically. Did you belong to him? Did he belong to you? Did you wish to see him with someone else again? The thought was enough to make your blood boil. Did you want him to fuck anyone who wasn’t you—
“Are you fucking mine or not, Y/N—?” He asked and you didn’t let him speak anymore, grabbing him by his shirt as you surged forward in a rush to capture his rosy lips to yours.
His body reacted just as quick to kiss you back harder, his warm hand gripping your nape to keep you in place, your familiar taste simply had him groaning into your mouth, invading all your senses as you got dizzier in the essence of him, holding on to him tighter as you let yourself go as he sucked on your lips harsh enough for it to be swollen.
“Mine,” he murmured against your lips, voice deeper than ever as he squeezed your waist, a gasp leaving your mouth, “be good for me, hm?” He said, helping you sit on the kitchen counter right behind you.
He holds on to your leg, wrapping them around his waist as you pull your body even closer before he kisses you harder, even deeper, making sure that there’s absolutely no space left in between you—he needs to be close to you. Your clothed cunt pressed against him in a way that created the slightest amount of friction as you bucked your hips up in a rush.
He gladly swallowed all your whines, anger bubbling up about the fact that other people have gotten a chance to hear your pretty noises before him, but not anymore, cause you belonged to Lee Heeseung.
He was being rough the way he shoved his tongue into your mouth, hungry to taste you again and again, simply because it was impossible for him to get enough of you, your hands roaming all over his body to trace the hard muscles you’ve been feeling up, hidden underneath his T-shirt, the tension lingering, the agitation increasing. You wanted more, you needed more.
“Say you want it,” he whispered, his forehead pressed against yours as you both took deep breaths, practically breathing each other in, his thumb prodding at your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it, making him groan and push his two digits into your mouth, watching how you suck on them so diligently, a whine leaving your mouth as he pulled the fingers back, depriving you of them, “say it.”
“What if I don’t?” You clicked your tongue, pushing him back slightly with a smirk on your face, “won’t you touch me then?” You asked, looking at him innocently as you got off the counter, you could feel your panties being wet, walking to him, taking a step further to whisper in his ear, “won’t you fuck me?” You asked, biting his earlobe right after as you heard him suck in a sharp breath.
With that, you leaned back, walking back to your room as Heeseung stood there for a minute, trying his best to stay in control with his semi hard dick getting in the way, you being a brat wasn’t helping him by any means. A groan left his mouth as he followed you into your room, to find you waiting for him on your bed, sitting comfortably.
“Were you this much of a brat with Beomgyu too?” He asked, the question itself had him frowning as you chuckled and shook your head no slowly, “ah—no.”
He rolled his eyes, jaw clenched as he lifted his T-shirt up, messing up his hair even more as he threw it away somewhere on the floor, “you’re a spoiled little princess, aren’t you? Don’t worry, love, I’ll make sure you beg for me.”
You raised your brows, your eyes travelling down to stare at his body shamelessly, your bottom lip bitten as he walked over and climbed on the bed in a way that excited your body to the point that one touch from him would be enough to give you goosebumps.
“You look cute when you’re jealous, y’know?” You cooed right as he got close to you.
He didn’t waste any second, pulling your body to him easily so you were sitting right on his lap, his back pressed against the headboard, hands resting on your ass, rubbing gentle circles on it with his thumb as he looked down his nose caressing yours in a touch that made your eyelids flutter shut.
“Yeah, doll? Let’s see how cute I look when I don’t let you cum, hm?”
“What?”
“What? Pretty baby wants to cum?” Heeseung teased, his hand inching upwards in a manner that pushed your t-shirt up just enough so his hand could squeeze your waist, his fingers tracing your skin smoothly.
You couldn’t focus, not when he knew exactly how to invade all your senses. You liked the game of push and pull, but with how things have been, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer, not when having Heeseung control your body, touching and guiding you, felt so good. It wasn’t as if he knew what made you feel good, yet he was discovering how to make you gasp out of pleasure with ease.
Your hand on his bare skin only made the atmosphere seem hotter than it actually was. You simply nodded as a reply to his question—you needed to cum.
“Can’t even use your words now, princess? What happened to your bratty attitude?” Heeseung chuckled against your skin, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, your body reacting to it almost instantly as you threw your head back, giving him more space to kiss you down your neck.
You needed to do something, so you lifted your hips slightly, only to sit right on top of his hardened cock, making him groan out against your skin, almost biting your neck which had you whining out loud, your fingers tugging on his hair—something that you had learned would drive him crazy.
“Can’t control yourself, Lee?” You breathed out as a taunt, letting him bite your earlobe and practically growl out of frustration, licking and swirling his warm tongue on the expanse of your skin again, making you shiver and press down on his cock even more.
“So fucking needy,” he rasped out, fingers playing with the hem of your shorts now, which was easy with how your legs were spread as you sat on his lap, making you hide your face in his neck, warmth spreading all over your body.
“Please—fuck!” You cried out, biting on his shoulder as he gently caressed your clothed cunt, making him chuckle even more.
“Please what, princess?” He urged you to speak, even though your voice came out muffled as you pressed your face to his neck, the vibrations of your words making it hard for him to function.
“Want you,” you finally spoke up.
“Yeah? Who do you belong to, doll?” He cups your cunt, just to see how your body would react.
You moaned, hips bucking to get more friction but he only pressed your cunt harder, possessiveness lacing every single one of his touches.
“You.” Saying it out loud was the only way you could stop the teasing.
However, you couldn’t deny how you felt butterflies when he finally repeated after you, “that’s right, you’re my pretty little doll. All mine.”
You nodded meekly, letting him take control of your body as you squirmed under his hold. Heeseung knew he had won as he easily turned you over to help you lay on your back, getting on top of you with ease, staring at you, his chocolate brown eyes sporting a lust filled expression, “I’ll take care of you now.”
He dipped down to pepper kisses over the expanse of your skin, having had enough of your body being fully clothed, he asked if he could take your T-shirt off you and you lazily nodded, watching the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on helping you out of your shirt, scoffing once he learned that you weren’t wearing a bra.
Suddenly, you were hyper aware of his gaze on your body, your hands working quick to cover your tits with embarrassment flooding your cheeks. However, he was still quicker to grab your wrists, pinning them above your head in a swift go.
“Never hide your pretty body from me ever again, it’s mine to worship, yeah?” He whispered, his hot breath nuzzling against your lips as you nodded along with him, as if in a trance.
Your chest heaved up and down with the bubbling excitement in you, your thighs pressed up against each other as the wetness seeped through your panties, soiling your shorts as well.
Heeseung smirked, “such a good girl when you listen to me,” he praised, eliciting a whine out of you. You never knew a praise would be enough to give you goosebumps.
The tip of his nose grazed your skin as he stopped right on your throat, licking your sensitive spot with his warm tongue, your back arching as you obliviously gave him more space to kiss and suck on your clavicle as he grinds against you, and you love how he overpowers you.
Your breath hitches the second his lips reach your torso, right above your left boob, and you’re almost sure he can hear your heart beating out of your ribcage with how much his presence affects you, and he simply looks up at you to press the most daunting yet soothing kiss right above your heart, as if he was trying to get the fact across that it belonged to him now.
You couldn’t look away, gaze peering down as he covered your nipple with his puckered lips, your moans encouraging him even further as he shamelessly sucked your tits, setting your wrists free to fondle your other tit, squeezing it harshly to see your expression contort into that of pain, but it was full of pleasure instead.
His thumb played with your nipples, rubbing circles on it gently to get them hard, only to pinch them right after, covering them with his mouth right after to soothe the pain—something you didn’t think you’d find pleasing but you did, especially when you squirmed around and he held you in place with ease.
Grazing your tits with his teeth had you whimpering, holding on to his arm, digging your nails as you held on to him tight.
“You like that, baby?” He smirked, hand sneaking down into your panties, your eyes rolling back at the slightest touch of his fingers against your sensitive slit, which was wet with your arousal.
“Taste how wet you get for me, princess,” he muttered, proud of how his two digits were covered with your slick, glistening under the warm, dim lights of your room.
You parted your lips, pushing your tongue out to let him rest the two of his fingers there as you took him in, swirling your tongue around his slender fingers coated in your wetness. A hum left your mouth at the same time as Heeseung groaned at the sight of you being a sweet little doll for him, doing whatever he says.
He couldn’t be gentle anymore, he had to taste you.
“Good girl,” he praised, brushing his thumb on your bottom lip before coating your tits with your saliva, circling your nipples as he placed open mouthed kisses as a trail down your torso, trying his best not to leave any area untouched.
You mindlessly chanted his name, moaning out in desperation as he got closer to your cunt, looking at you once. He appeared to be a hungry beast, the one who wouldn’t stop once he gets a taste of your cunt—the cunt he’s been dreaming about for so long.
He made you feel the things you hadn’t ever felt before, sending shivers up your spine with each touch of his. However, he was done being slow with you. As much as he loved to give your tits his undivided attention, he couldn’t leave your desperate little cunt unattended.
Your shorts were off in a swift go, leaving you almost bare with your panties on, his eyes darkening as he let lust cloud his mind. Holding your thighs open, he made himself comfortable in between them, mumbling about how every inch of you is perfect to him, your toes curling his breath got heavier.
He pressed an experimental kiss on your inner thigh, squeezing them once he heard your body react to it, a sweet little whimper leaving your swollen lips in the process. You grab a chunk of his hair, pulling on them and crying when he pushed your knees up, biting and sucking on your soft flesh of thigh as a promise that it’ll leave bruise marks.
His marks all over your body, he needed to mark you up, not even bothering to hide his possessiveness as he mumbled mine under his breath, continuing his ministrations, stopping right in front of your soiled panties, taking a deep breath.
“Oh princess, you smell so sweet for me,” he said, grabbing the thin fabric of your underwear, pulling them to the side, wrinkling them up without any care.
You propped yourself up slightly, the sight of Heeseung staring at your cunt as if he’s found treasure which he wishes to devour carnally wasn’t something you had ever thought you’d witness, but here he was, breathing deeply inches away from your cunt, purposely blowing hot breath on your soaked core, trying to agitate you further.
“Heeseung—fuck! Please,” you groaned, urging him to get closer, to be where you need him the most.
“Yes, princess?” He asked breathily, dark eyes still fixated on your pussy as he whispered, “pretty.”
“Please,” you begged feebly.
“Please what, love?”
You couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his head into your bucked hips was the easy way to get things going, tugging on his silky roots as you held him in place, a loud moan reverberated the room just as he groaned into your cunt, your eyes fluttering shut at the heavenly sensation you felt all over your body.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted this from so long,” Heeseung mumbled like a madman, absolutely letting himself go, not holding back as he devoured your cunt, licking and sucking on your folds, commanding your body well as he held your legs open with his strong grip on your thighs.
Peppering featherlight kisses on your clit, he made you sigh breathily, his name on the tip of your tongue as you kept on whining, even more so when he shoved his face deeper, sucking on your sensitive nub as the warmth of his fingers traced the long strokes on your folds.
“Love—your—cunt,” he groaned with each lick, pulling you into him, easing your thighs on his sturdy shoulders as he slipped his tongue into your clenching hole, “all mine now, all fucking mine.”
His lips were covered with your arousal, his thumb taking over to rub circles on your clit, sending your over the edge as you tried to get a hold of yourself, but it felt good—the best you’d ever felt, and you could already feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he added more pressure to your poor clit.
Your legs shook around his head, your cunt clenching as he continued to fuck his tongue deeper and deeper, as much as he could humanly manage. He could have sworn he was drunk, too pussy drunk to even move from there. He was the reason you were this wet, he got you wet, he needed to take care of your cunt and be accountable for the same.
With his movements getting harsher, it only took a moment longer before you found yourself reaching your high, whines leaving your mouth as you fell apart on his tongue, giving him exactly what he had been so eagerly trying to get out of you.
Your cum covered the expanse of his skin—lips and chin shining as he licked big stripes of your now overly-sensitive cunt just to make sure he laps up every bit of the juice you so lovingly gave to him, “so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your clit again.
You took deep breaths, eyes still closed as you savored the moment, Heeseung staring at you with shiny eyes, trying to memorize every bit of your expressions. You looked like an angel to him, a sweet doll who was made to be kept safe with him. He wanted to keep you safe.
The sight was orgasmic, Heeseung’s raging boner would agree with it, however he wasn’t done having a taste of you, he was greedy by all means, almost as if he got addicted to your taste within seconds, he wanted to taste you again, and again.
Before you could even register what was going on, Heeseung grabbed your panties from the hem, ripping them into two instead of simply sliding them down your legs, your eyes widening at the sight of your now torn underwear.
He doesn’t give you much chance to say anything, his lips latched to your sensitive cunt in an instant, your response of moans almost pavlovian, even more so when his digits prodded your entrance. He buried two fingers at once, deep down to the knuckles, loving how you clenched around him uncontrollably, your lewd noises almost pornographic as he continued his ministrations.
The tip of his nose brushed your clit in the right way, his fingers curling inside you at the same time just for you to try and close your thighs out of sheer pleasure, which overstimulated you, but he was stronger as he held your legs open.
Heeseung didn’t feel sober by any means, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer either, especially with how he’s absolutely drunk on the essence of your cunt and the melody of your moans. Pressing his clothes cock harder on the mattress, he sped up, fingering you with no resistance, your wetness being the perfect lubricant for him.
“Doing so well for me, such a good slut for me,” he groaned against your cunt.
You jolted out of pleasure, his pace and words left your pussy tightening as a signal that your second orgasm was approaching faster than ever, which only encouraged him to eat you out faster, shoving another finger into you as his dick twitched with unadulterated pleasure.
Heeseung’s name was all you knew as you rode out your orgasm with desperation, tears cascading down your cheek and you swore you saw stars with how hard you came undone, watching him lick you up before he got up, getting rid of his pants and boxers in one go.
You could only breathe deeply, eyes shamelessly taking in his hardened cock, the tip red and leaking with how much he’d held back all this while. You clumsily tried to get up, your legs still shaking as you sat up, “can I—” you tried to ask, embarrassed.
“Hm, can you what, princess?” He asked, looking extremely attractive with his hair all over the place, lips cherry red and swollen, still glistening with the remains of your cum all over.
“Wanna taste you,” your voice was barely a notch above whisper.
“Oh—fuck. You’re such a pretty little slut for me,” he chuckled with amusement, “yeah? Is that what my doll wants? Want my cock in your sweet little mouth?” He asked, standing right in front of your mouth.
You nodded, your eyes big and pleading which only had him twitching, even more so when you gently grabbed the base of his cock, placing the faintest kiss on his tip, “a slut for you, yeah,” you mumbled, peppering kisses all over his length as he bit his lip at the sight, adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he gulped.
With your tongue swirling around the tip, you finally took him in the warmth of your mouth, a loud moan escaping his lips once he saw you with your cheeks hollowed, sucking him in so desperately, your hands massaging his balls simultaneously. He grips the back of your head, holding you in place as you sucked harshly on the tip of his dick, his body shuddering with immense pleasure.
He was already leaking when he tasted you, but having you on your knees for him, looking up with tears in your eyes as you drooled and whined, sending vibrations up his cock, that was it for him, but you didn’t let him move back, feeling the warm clawing of his orgasm on your tongue as you let him finish inside your mouth.
He had beads of sweat forming on his forehead by the time he finished, taking deep breaths but still staring at you, eyes full of adoration as you took his cock out of your mouth with a pop.
“You okay, love?” He asked, sitting down next to you, caressing the curve of your cheek gently.
You let him sit down next to you, and he did not expect you to open your mouth to show your tongue after you gulped down his cum.
“Fuck, oh fuck,” he groaned, chuckling right after and cupping your jaw, “we’re so not done here, princess,” he said and your eyes widened.
“W—what?” You asked, breathing in deeply when he pressed a firm kiss on your lips, not moving back as he spoke.
“You really thought I’d let you go without fucking that pretty cunt of yours, hm?”
“Heeseung—It’s so sensitive right now,” you whispered, holding on to his arm.
“Shh, you can take it, right?”
His tone was enticing, the proximity paired with the intoxication Heeseung so eagerly provided had you nodding at his words. No guy had ever made you cum more than once and here Heeseung was, on his way to give you your third orgasm of the night.
“Yeah,” you whispered.
“Yeah?” He asked, tone breathy.
“Yeah, please,” you replied, and he chuckled, pulling you into another rushed kiss, slotting his lips against yours.
His kisses got harsher as he pushed you down on the bed again, holding you underneath him, your body reacting to him in an instant as you spread your legs further when he pushed his thigh up, pressing it on your cunt.
You moaned into his mouth, he swallowed every bit of it, almost greedy as if he didn’t want anyone else to even hear how pretty you sound. It was just for him, you were made for him.
“Ready, baby?” Heeseung asked, rubbing the tip of his cock against your pussy, the wetness lubricating his length as he stroked himself a few times, looking back at you when you nodded, “are you sure?”
“Hm—yeah. Are you?” You asked back.
“Never been more ready for anything, princess,” he whispered, dipping down to press his lips against yours.
He wastes zero time, both your eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy as he pushed himself into your needy hole, your back arching as you both shifted to be closer to each other, the stretch of his thickness was almost delicious and you couldn’t help but dig your nails on his back, trying to get a hold of yourself.
Heeseung moans out loud without any care, the way your walls gripped his bulbous size, “fucking hell you feel so good,” he cursed out loud.
Bottoming out was easy with how aroused you were, your wetness making him slide in deeper than any cock you’ve ever taken before. It felt straight out of a wet dream how Heeseung looked at you with hooded eyes, a smirk forming on his face at your obvious pleasure filled expression.
“You see this, princess?” He pulled back, thrusting in harder as you mewled, his hand coming to rest right on top of your abdomen, pressing down right there just enough so he could feel his cock bulge, “told you it’d reach right here.” He chuckled.
“You’re crazy,” you cried out, “so fucking b—big.”
“And you love it,” he hisses as you clench up around him, moaning and agreeing with whatever your pretty boy had to say.
Ramming into your hole made your tits bounce with each hard thrust of his, tempting him enough to reach forward to capture your nipple between his lips, sucking on them with no gentleness.
You tug on his hair, something that you knew would drive him insane. He practically growled, biting your nipple and sucking on it, littering marks all around your chest all while pistoning into you.
“Mine, you’re fucking mine,” he mumbled, the sound of skin slapping resonating the room, which was the prettiest sound Heeseung had ever heard, simply because it was a harmony of you and him, adding your whines and moans to the mix only made it better.
“God—Heeseung,” you struggled to breathe, now gripping your sheets as he abused your pussy, almost demonic in a way—something you really needed to satiate your desires, which Heeseung was fulfilling oh so beautifully.
Just when you thought it wouldn’t get any better, Heeseung pushed two of his fingers right on your sensitive bundle of nerves, working them in circles as if he was a professional and you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore.
“Did I say you were allowed to look away?” Heeseung asked, coming closer to your face, however you could barely form a reply, which had him scoffing and stopping his actions, finally getting a cry out of you as you looked at him.
“That’s a good doll, keep your eyes on me, yeah?” He whispered, sinking in impossibly deeper as you let your tears out, which turned him on even more than he thought was possible, “love how wet you get for me, shit—you feel so fucking good for me,” he said, dragging his tongue up your cheek, gathering your salty tears and licking them up.
You loved every second of this, his hand coming to slap your ass, grabbing a fistful of it to grope you harder while you absolutely let yourself submit to him, his dirty words only making you clench harder, your skin burning with the traces of his touch all over.
You felt like you were being split open as he rambled about how good you felt, it was addicting how your name rolled off his tongue in a possessive moan as he fucked you with pure need, also kissing you from time to time, his forehead pressed against yours as he stimulated your clit faster.
The room felt misty almost, but that was just the essence of you both being ever so desperate with each other, like your friends had always said—you needed to fuck it out.
And Heeseung was doing a splendid job at it, your legs twitching at this point with how sensitive your body was, body too fucked out, words not making any sense minus the few weak moans of Heeseung’s name.
You were so turned on, you didn’t want this to end but it was beyond impossible for you to hold yourself any longer, “gonna—gonna cum, please,” you begged, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss as he grunted out.
“Yeah, kitten? Gonna cum for me? Do it, baby,” he whispered.
His strong arms held you in place, pushing himself deep in your pulsing pussy as if you were a toy to him, but his kisses said otherwise, they were full of longing and endless desire, and he never wished to stop.
With a deep breath, you pulsated around him, leaking around his size with each aggressive pounding he gave you, and before you knew it, you were squirting all over his cock, ruining your bedsheets and surprising Heeseung who only rubbed your clit harder.
“Fuck—you’re so hot,” he groaned, a final thrust shooting his load of cum inside your cunt, staying right there as you both breathed the same air, taking a few minutes to lay side by side when he pulled out, the mixture of your cum dripping down your cunt.
Heeseung still held on to you, his arms wrapping your body close to him, patting your back gently, “you okay, love? You did so well for me,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead.
A newfound warmth spread your body as you witnessed Heeseung being genuinely sweet to you, a small smile caressing your face as you nodded, snuggling close to him and he let you do that, whispering praises in your ear, making you laugh and laughing along with you.
He knew you both couldn’t sleep on your bed for the night, so he asked you if you wished to sleep with him, and it somehow left you shy as you said yes. Getting up was hard when your legs felt wobbly, but Heeseung was strong enough to help you up and go to the washroom with you.
You both were silent as he helped you sit on the marble counter of the washbasin, grabbing your towel and dampening it with lukewarm water, you simply observed him being absolutely concentrated, devoted almost with how he cleaned you up, a pout forming on his lips as he did so.
It was endearing how soft he was all of a sudden, and you needed him to speak up and talk about everything that’s been happening with you both, the mixed signals, the teasing, the jealousy, and of course, the intimate moment you just shared, it needs to be discussed.
You stayed mum, observing him till he was satisfied cleaning you, asking if you felt okay, comfortable with him. Nodding with a little smile was enough of an answer for him, as he made sure to dress you up in the comfiest oversized t-shirt he owned, and soon you were both getting comfortable under his blanket.
That’s when you decided to finally talk to him about the whole situation.
“So—” you started, slight awkwardness in your voice as Heeseung turned to look at you, his face practically shining.
“Uh—why did you like—hate me? Or did whatever you did to—”
“Woah woah, calm down, baby,” he said, clearly noticing the panic in your voice.
You were never the one to confront.
“I never hated you, how could I? You just ignored me from the fifth grade and I didn’t know what to do—” he paused, as if ashamed of himself in a way.
“You hated me, Heeseung,” you said, eyes widening at the accusation.
“Me?”
“Yeah, don’t you remember?”
“No,” he dragged, as if trying to think of where it went wrong.
You sat up straighter, wincing slightly due to the obvious soreness between your legs, looking at him, “wow, you really don’t know?”
Heeseung looked lost as ever.
“Fifth grade, the house party? The so-called biggest party of the year? You don’t remember playing truth and dare?” You asked, looking up at him with big eyes which he found so adorable.
“Oh, yeah. That’s the party we went to but then you started ignoring me after it,” Heeseung spoke, wondering what went wrong.
“God, you really are so clueless. We all went together, you and our group, we never really talked much but—but I had a little crush on you—hey! Don’t smirk, so yeah,” you continued and he chuckled.
What you didn’t know was that he was feeling all sorts of giddy deep inside. You liked him? You? The girl he’s always wanted, liked him back?
“You were asked this question in front of every single person we knew,” you said, a sad pout on your face, “to name someone you’d be willing to kiss in that room.”
Heeseung finally understood where you were heading but you didn’t let him interrupt, resting your finger on his lips.
“You know what you said?”
“I didn’t mean it that way—”
“Do you really remember what you said?” Your voice was louder now, a genuine look of disbelief on your face, “you said you’d kiss anyone in that room but me.”
There was haunting silence as you finished your sentence, you tried to sit up, only for your legs to give out as you fell directly into Heeseung’s arms. This shut you up in a second before you gulped and folded your arms, face heating up regardless of the whole situation, which almost felt comical at this point.
Then you started whining and complaining about how humiliating the situation was, a clear sign that Heeseung absolutely hated her and how she had to run away from the party with a heavy heart feeling hurt, as her crush had practically rejected her.
In front of everyone at that.
“Listen to me,” he said, voice deep and eyes earnest as he grabbed your arms, making sure your whole attention was on him.
“You never used to look at me, even then. Whenever I tried to, someone would get in between us. That day—I truly wanted to ask you out.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I do think I said it the wrong way. I knew you hadn’t had your first kiss,” he said, looking elsewhere for a second, “and I knew if I took your name then they’d make me kiss you as the dare right after. I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that, in front of everyone, as a dare.”
“You cannot be serious,” you muttered in complete amusement.
“But you ran out of the party and stopped talking to me altogether so I had to resort to other ways—”
“Like pranking and bothering me?”
“—well, it did help me get your attention, didn’t it?” He smirked, and you scoffed.
“You’re such a duffer, Lee Heeseung,” you chuckled, still not over the fact that all of this hatred, jealousy, pranks, and well, weird but angry arguments, were all based on what?
A misunderstanding.
You both stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, him pulling you close as you felt his chest vibrate, chuckling over this ridiculously stupid misunderstanding.
“So, you’ve liked me all along, huh?” He teased, and you pushed him away with a chuckle, mustering a stoic expression.
“Don’t even start, Lee Heeseung. You have been bothering me because you liked me but didn’t have the balls to say it!” You laughed and he looked offended.
“Excuse me?” He raised his eyebrow, tickling you all over with a smile as you squirmed, laughing uncontrollably before hitting on his arm a few times.
“Wait—wait! I have to tell you something,” you said, trying to sit up again.
“Yeah, princess?” He whispered.
“So, about what happened—”
“God, you look so pretty,” Heeseung said out of nowhere, staring at you with heart eyes, making you smile shyly.
If the past you would look at yourself, you’d probably end up throwing up with how cheesy it looked, yet right now, in the moment, everything felt right with Heeseung.
“Anyway.” You shook your head before looking at him sheepishly, “remember when Beomgyu came home right?”
Heeseung frowned at the mention of his name.
“We—didn’t have sex,” You let out.
“What?” He practically exclaimed, “he didn’t touch you? You didn’t do anything? But I heard—”
“Yeah he was bothering me so I tickled him and he moaned—but wait, you were listening to us? Eavesdropping?” You asked, “oh you were that jealous? Couldn’t help but listen pathetically from behind the closed doors—”
He shut you up by kissing you again, not stopping as you pulled him closer with a smile.
“You’re crazy,” Heeseung breathed out and you knew he meant it in a good way.
“And you’re mine,” you smiled, gently rubbing your nose against his.
“So fucking yours.” He mirrored your expression, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.
At that moment, you truly felt happy.
And that’s all that mattered.
Chapter 10: I saw it coming.
It’s baffling.
Transitioning from your so-called enemies to future potential lovers. The bickering is still there, however, now it results in a passionate makeout session and more.
Apparently Heeseung was hellbent on fucking you in every corner of your house, till everyone came back that is. He wouldn’t even sleep in separate rooms, sticking by your side as if his life depended on it, even offering to shower with you saying—“it saves water” only for him to fuck you in there.
It was surprising each time Heeseung acted cheesy in front of you, making food for you, only to feed you with his own hands. He, the one who acted all tough and nonchalant in front of others, was the same guy who begged you for cuddles, head pats, kisses.
You had never thought he would ever be willing to sit down and watch Barbie movies with you but yet again, he proved you wrong. He was so loving, as if it came naturally to him, which was a surprise given he never had a girlfriend before.
He had the biggest pout on his face as you laughed with your whole heart, holding the couple keychain Heeseung insisted you have. As cheesy as it got, you loved it, and he loved seeing you smile.
Especially when he was the one who made you smile.
“Does this mean we’re dating now?”
“W—what? Are we not?” Heeseung asked, slightly taken aback and you chuckled.
“Well, you didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend yet,” you mumbled.
“Oh, okay then let me do it right now,” he said, getting down on one knee with the keychain in his hand, “will you, Y/N, make me the happiest man alive and let me be your boyfriend?” He asked, with glittering eyes.
You rolled your eyes affectionately, “you’re so cute, Lee Heeseung, and yes, I allow you to be my boyfriend,” you smiled, pecking his lips softly.
However, being so engrossed in your own little world now, you both forgot something highly important that was going to happen today.
Your friends were literally standing outside the apartment, opening the door, as you and Heeseung casually sat on the couch, practically eating each other’s faces off.
Safe to say, the reaction was no less than explosive, especially the scream that left their mouths, a look of pure horror gracing their faces, your expression mirroring their own, as if you got caught doing something illegal.
Everyone was shocked, minus Sunghoon, who simply leaned against the door with his arms folded and a knowing smirk on his face.
“Told ya they’d be fucking by the time we come back.”
If there’s anything in life that Jake wants, it’s to fuck. All day, every day, it’s on his mind. He fantasizes constantly, watches porn every free chance he gets, and ultimately has grown bored of his own hand to satiate his need.
or the one where jake is inexperienced, incredibly perverted, and borderline addicted to sex but cannot, for the life of him, land a girl.
leave feedback and reblog to give jake another boner.
minors do not interact.
WORDCOUNT― 13.8k
PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader
CONTENT― smut, inexperienced but pervy and dominant jake, he kind of has an addiction to jerking off, im not joking like he has a boner every twenty minutes it’s probably a medical issue but, reader is really sex positive and lets jake go absolutely insane on her
NOTE― not proof read in the way it needed to be. disclaimer: this is straight up just porn. it had a plot at one point but i deleted all of it and wrote this instead. also this is posted on my other blog [@ncteez] for mark lee. yes, i wrote it for both of them bc they both fit the shoe ok? ok.
smut tags under cut::
smut tags― jake isn’t submissive– just a loser, loads of masturbation, also loads of loads lmfao, jake’s dick is 8 inches in this one, public humiliation, dirty talk, teasing, pussy eating / face sitting, mentions of free use, unprotected sex, wayyyy way too much cum, raw grinding, attempts at deep throat, accidental face fucking, finger fucking, suffocation, riding, squirting, implications to the fact that orgasms are not the end of the fic bc they just keep going, some say they’re still fucking to this day.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Feels so good! Harder! Fuck m-”
Jake slams his laptop shut in an exasperated sigh. Frustrated, annoyed, fucking horny.
Always horny. To the point that nothing excites him anymore. Not his hard-on being palmed at by his own hand, not the make-shift pocket pussy he’s made out of household objects, not the porn on page one or on page seventy-three.
Honestly, even as hard as he is now, it’s arguable that he could just start punching his cock and he’d still remain in this state until something changes. And you know what sucks more than not being able to get off? Being hard so constantly that it’s just a state of living at this point.
It’s sad. He could be washing caked ketchup off of a plate and his cock would still lend a little jump. A reminder that his hand is no longer enough. A fucking threat that if he doesn’t sink into a pretty hole soon, he might as well just kill himself.
The idea doesn’t seem too bad anymore, as he lays flat on his back with his cock in hand on his messy sheets. He stares up at the ceiling with another long-winded groan, wondering why he has to have such an insatiable libido and probably twice as much stamina. If he could just get off he’d have at least a little bit of time in his day to feel normal before it takes hold of his brain again.
It’s the fact that he’s grown entirely numb to his own hand and feels like he’s going crazy because he hasn’t been able to hook-up with anyone in nearly a year. Porn is boring, he swears he’s seen just about all of the good, bad, and bizarre. Post nut clarity barely exists because there is no clarity by the time he finally gets that hard-to-reach nut. Bad luck, maybe. Awful fucking miserable luck? That’s more fitting.
For the sake of the girls in this city, perhaps it’s good that he can’t manage to land a hook-up. Surely they’d be unable to walk by the time he gets his fill, that is if he manages to get a fill at all. And it’s gotten to the point that Jake has almost entirely given up on finding a girl at all. One that’s willing to put up with his near-constant need to get his dick wet, anyway.
Almost given up.
A thought crosses his mind as he lazily palms himself with a bored sigh, knowing he’ll end up locked up in an asylum somewhere if this doesn’t stop. The voice of Jay in his head doing little to make his cock soften, which is…not something Jake is proud to admit.
“Dude, you gotta put a stop to this shit. This is your third laptop this year!” Jay had said to him. “It’s only June!”
Maybe Jay was right, and maybe Jake should have downloaded the new app that was mentioned shortly after the scolding rather than immediately going to another, even more, shady porn site. “Heard this one was really good.” Jay had advertised. “Even got Jungwon laid.”
Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to try another app despite the immense amount of failure Jake has already faced regarding previous attempts with other platforms. After all, if it got Jungwon laid, surely it could get him laid too.
Maybe this one really is better.
And at the end of the day, Jake does download the app. After all, creating a profile is easy, finding a girl though?
We’ll see.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Ah. Okay. Nice.
Jake stays glued to his phone all night. He really had no hope that this app would offer him anything more than what the others did. But, oh.
The app allows specific features, most of which are not aimed towards users looking for a relationship. Dick and body sizes are out in the open, there’s sections you can fill out regarding what you’re looking for in a sexual partner, how often you’re willing to see said partner, and if you’re looking for a regular fuck or a one time fuck.
Safe to say, Jake’s profile went a little something like this:
you can call me jake, im 24. just looking for a girl either for regular visits or a one night stand that’s willing to deal with a guy who literally suffers from chronic-boner syndrome.
LOOKING FOR: Female
PREFERENCE: One Time Only, Occasional Meetups, On-call, Regular meetups, Permanent Friends-With-Benefits, Secret Meet, Virtual Meet, Audio Meet, Rebound C…[Click to see more]
PARTNER REQUIREMENTS: N/A
SIZE REFERENCE: 8 ½” hard, 4” soft, 5.6” circumference
SEXUAL INTERESTS: Vanilla, Free Use, BDSM, Begging, Breeding, Dom/Sub, Dominatrix, CBT, Role Play, Public Humiliation, Edging, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex, Virtual Sex, Group Sex, Humiliation, Cock Play, Cum Dump, Religion, Raw, Multiple Orgasms, Androgyny, Genital Piercings, Older Women, Body Art, Wax, Anal, Financial Domina...[Click to see more]
NOT INTERESTED IN: Cuckolding, Voyeurism
OTHER: im not very experienced in most of these, i just watch a lot of porn
Embarrassing? Yeah, probably.
Looks like a lot of women are into that though if his inbox is anything to go by, anyway. With him checking the app every few minutes to find ten new messages? Yeah, they’re feeling him.
He can only imagine what the fuck Jungwon had on his profile to actually land a hook-up. Couldn’t have been any worse than his own, after all, Jake is desperate and so was Jungwon at one point.
Apparently girls like desperate guys.
Message after message, degrading comments and praise, all from either women clad in leather or sweet looking church girls who must have the app hidden deep within their phones. There’s barely anyone in between those two categories, actually.
“Hi baby boy, you looking for a sugar mama?”
“ur dick really that big? lol, what do you even mean by ‘chronic boner syndrome’?”
“you’re so desperate to get laid, might as well just doxx yourself at this point…please.”
Arguably, these women are very forward and he has a great time sifting through the ones he’s interested in. Scrolling through all of these messages….does not help his case regarding his insatiable need to fuck something either so, naturally, he’s also 100% jerking off the entire time he’s doing this.
Still, never quite able to reach the orgasm he needs by this point.
Up until there’s a message that catches his attention. No degrading, no insults, no borderline-too-kinky insinuations. Which, given, Jake probably shouldn’t have selected the majority of the kinks just to pull more girls, but he did.
And upon reading the message, he almost doesn’t know if this girl is real.
“High libido, no girls around to help you out, I take it? Rough.”
One look at her profile spikes even more interest. Her sexual interests include a list of things he wishes he didn’t fit. But he does, though he’d never admit it. Inexperienced men, losers, virgins, micro-penis, big penis, praise (receiving), body worship–
Oh.
Fuck yeah.
He responds quickly, already feeling the orgasm within him bubble up as he tries to pretend he doesn’t go on a war path of responding to everyone after you, but still. Your message box with him remains in his mind as he awaits the response to his message of “you looking to help me out?”
Every ping on his phone afterwards makes his cock twitch more, makes it dribble out little beads of pre-cum with each pass of his palm, only for him to sigh out of frustration that it’s just another person that wants to devour him whole. Which, he’ll take what he can get if his first choice never responds but still. He wants to get off to you.
He finds himself on your profile more often than anyone else’s too, looking at the same three photos you’ve posted, noting how you don’t seem super active on the app, but active enough to find him by some beautiful grace of God.
You’re kind of perfect, honestly. Fairly mundane compared to most of the women in his inbox, but cool nonetheless. He can tell you have an eye for fashion but it seems to be more geared towards your real life self rather than the secret fetish/kink app you’ve got downloaded.
And that’s the thing. Most of these women, beautiful or not, are dressed in their best sexual attire just to message a possible fuck, while during their daily lives they probably wear conservative dresses and pant suits. Which….arguably that’s kind of hot. Then again, what isn’t hot to him these days?
You though. You have normal pictures posted just like he does. Your tits aren’t out, your legs aren’t open, you don’t have a pile of sex toys behind or beside you and yet still your pictures turn him on more than those who do. Insane how his cock twitches at just these three photos, fucking insane how he grows a near instant obsessed thinking about how you…uh, deal with the losers you seem to be looking for.
Then again, maybe it’s the mystery of what’s under your clothes, or what’s in your stash of sex toys. Oh, whatever you’re hiding has got be so fucking hot. Naturally, he groans at the amount of sexuality you barely give. Thinking far, far too hard about it all, given the circumstances.
Don’t get him wrong, he can get down with the hoes. In fact, he very much wants to get down with a hoe. But man, the way you stand out because you’re somehow….boring compared to everyone else?
Please.
Fucking pretty please, let him in between those thighs.
And just as he scrolls again through your photos, that long-awaited orgasm hits him like a brick.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
A mere two days later you find yourself in the inbox with the self-proclaimed boner-god. He’s since proven his size with photos involving different objects beside said penis, and even a video or two of his frantic hands jerking off to you.
Ah, he’s kind of perfect if you think about it. At first you thought that it was just roleplay for him or something. Where he plays a guy who can’t get enough, though he clearly probably does. It wasn’t until you were woken up at four in the morning with him spamming your inbox that you suddenly realized this dude is actually as desperate as he seems.
Normally, being spammed awake by your phone pinging consistently would bother you. But goddamn was he needing it. Just three hours before now it was mostly casual conversation with him, albeit about hooking-up, but still. The two of you agreed to determine on the following day if you were compatible enough for a meet up. He said goodnight to you, and you said it back.
Then you woke up to three dick pics, one voice note with a borderline pathetic apology (only because you could still hear him going at it), and then like fourteen messages of him trying to wake you up intentionally.
JAKE_02 sent you a message: You awake?
Dick pic #1.
JAKE_02 sent you a message: You’re so pretty, sorry lol
Dick pic #2
JAKE_02 sent you a message: Wake uppppppppppp!
JAKE_02 sent you a message: Please? :(
Dick pic #3, precum smeared across his fingers as he grips it.
JAKE_02 sent you a message: Do you already have me silenced?
JAKE_02 sent you a message: I’d let you silence me hahaha….
JAKE_02 sent you a voice memo: “Sorry about all this, I really meant it when I said I have a problem. You should probably just block me because I’m going to end up begging to see you otherwise”
Oh, he has an accent.
JAKE_02 sent you a message: your profile says you like inexperience…..well i’ve only slept with like 3 girls, is that inexperienced enough?
JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like to tease guys like that? like edge them and stuff?
JAKE_02 sent you a message: oh damn, that’d be so hot
JAKE_02 sent you a message: do you like it when guys beg btw?
Etcetera.
And, well, apparently he just has a lot to say. It’s cute how embarrassed he must feel basically getting himself off with a one-sided sext session with you as you were sleeping. At least, you hope he’s embarrassed.
You let his messages simmer for a while, waiting to see if he sends anything else. And when he doesn’t, you respond.
YOURUSERNAME: that was cute.
It’s the way he’s instantly trying to respond that really gets you going. You chuckle first, knowing already that you’d probably help him out based on this situation alone.
YOURUSERNAME: trying to wake me up because you can’t stop touching yourself? :( poor baby.
JAKE_02: oh god please don’t say that
JAKE_02: im gonna end up awake all night trying to get it to go down again
YOURUSERNAME: that’s good to hear. so you can go for a long time then?
Yes, you’re teasing him.
JAKE_02: if you’d let me
YOURUSERNAME: you already got off tonight tho, didn’t you?
JAKE_02: i don’t think you understand just how bad it is. i’m already getting my dick out again
You lend yourself a sly chuckle after a deep yawn, knowing for a fact that you’re about to make him prove to you that he’s either still hard or really did get off only to get hard again by a mere few messages from you.
YOURUSERNAME: show me?
And he does. Similar to the other three photos, only this time he sends a short video with his shorts pushed down his thighs and his cock raging hard and pathetic against his stomach. Again, he’s big, that much is true, but the fact that such a dick is always ready to fuck? To the point he’s desperate? To the point he’s embarrassing about it?
YOURUSERNAME: how bad do you wanna bury that in me?
Oh, shit. Jake could fucking die right now. You seem so willing, which is truly what he needs at this point in his sexual sickness.
JAKE_02: i’ll come over right now.
JAKE_02: let me come over and show you
YOURUSERNAME: let’s wait a bit for that, gotta meet officially before I let you fuck me
And you do intend to make him wait, knowing for a fact that you’re not meeting this guy tonight. There’s too much danger in that. Given how desperate he actually is, you can argue that if you changed your mind upon meeting, he very well may not care. Which, that’s something you need to worry about with any person you meet on such an app, but still.
Public meeting first.
Always.
JAKE_02: right, right, that makes sense.
JAKE_02: so can i see your pussy then
You stifle a laugh as if the man can hear you, he’d probably like that though. But yeah, no. As much as you know he’d enjoy that, it’s best to let him experience it for the first time in real life if all of this goes well. So, you settle with tits.
Meaning, he has to settle with them too.
And the photo is all but enough for Jake. The ping of his phone was far too exciting with the flash of the image sinking into his eyes. Sure, he wanted to see your hole open for him, he wanted to see your pretty hands spreading your lips for the picture, he wanted to see what he might get to fuck into someday– but…
This is good enough for him, honestly. Seeing your tits alone is hot enough, but it’s the fact that you only barely let him see. The plush skin of your lower breasts are peeking from under the shirt you're wearing, one nipple barely out, the other completely hidden.
He moans out at it, holding his cock tight and painfully as he glares into the screen of his phone. God, he can almost taste it.
JAKE_02: thats so hot…but….
JAKE_02: pussy….
JAKE_02: please show me your pussy
Another chuckle at how desperate he really is. You lower your phone just a bit, not at all intending to show him all of it but you do lend a panty shot with your legs spread. He’ll live with it, he doesn’t have a choice.
And he does live with it because he cums almost instantly upon seeing just your thighs open. He wouldn’t have been able to hit climax so quickly had you already had this photo posted for all to see. It’s the fact that you sent it to him in the dms. It’s the fact that you presumably just took it for him. It’s the fact that he can almost see the outline of your folds, and the lines of your pussy that deserves to fucked open.
When he doesn’t respond immediately, you know it was enough for him. Already you’re preparing to roll back over and get some more sleep, but your phone dings again.
JAKE_02: tht was hot lol….um
JAKE_02: can u come to the mall tomorrow? i work at [redacted store name], u can come see that im actually very normal if u want
You stop for a second through another yawn, thinking long and hard about it. You shrug to yourself because tomorrow is a saturday and there’s plenty of public spaces to meet him in. And despite how fun it could be to tease him for weeks on end before officially meeting him, you, yourself, have been in a dry-spell lately.
And he fits your interests perfectly. In other words, yeah, you could fuck.
YOURUSERNAME: you sure you’re not gonna take me in the back and fuck me on the spot?
JAKE_02: ….would u want me to?
YOURUSERNAME: no, i wanna bring you home if i think you could make me feel good
JAKE_02: hahah damn
JAKE_02: so you’ll come see me?
YOURUSERNAME: yeah, i’ll come see you
JAKE_02: ok cool :)
And then it’s silent for a long while. In fact, you’re nearly asleep again when your phone pings one last time. All you need to see is the notification to know that meeting Jake is gonna be fun.
JAKE_02 sent you a message: for the record…i definitely will fuck you good
Sounds promising.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You knew he was cute but holy shit, he’s like, cute cute.
Fucking handsome and charmingly cute.
Perhaps even, hot.
You stand from around a shelf to check him out. That same accent you’ve heard previously rings loud and clear in your head, and his hair is definitely a stylistic mess, the type of hair you can imagine grabbing and tugging to guide a tongue between your legs. His eyes are pretty and piercing yet equally as filled with some sort of wonder. His hands, his body.
Oh wow.
On any other day, you’d think he’s just some poser emo-guy working a shitty retail job so he can buy his first guitar and play it totally out of tune. But on this day, you’re aware that this is a man with a need that you very much wouldn’t mind satisfying.
Seeing him go about his work tasks behind the counter is another thing. Checking customers out both through the register and with his eyes when they walk away. You know he isn’t aware that you’ve actually shown up, and it feels nice to watch him in his element before he attempts to play himself up as a totally normal, cool dude. Especially now that you can see him secretly be a pervert on the clock.
Customer after customer, he smiles at them when he hands them their items, he offers small talk and little chuckles that ring in your ears, and every single time one of the pretty ones walks away, his head turns to watch them leave for a few seconds too long.
Anyone can tell he needs it if they watch him for long enough.
You’re not sure why this guy is getting to you the way he is, but there’s just something about the way that he carries himself in public that turns you on. You already know for a fact that he’s a horny motherfucker. You know that behind those charming smiles and laughs, he’s got a neglected cock needing to be used.
No one else in this store is aware of it. You’re the only person here who knows he was spamming a stranger last night with dick pics and begging to see her pussy.
It’s hot.
And when you approach, Jake nearly doesn’t even know it’s you at first.
“Hi, did you find everything you–” Jake stops mid sentence. “Oh, fuck. You’re here.” He adds, trying to primp his hair into a spot that may look a little better than it did already.
You watch as he studies you for the first time, nervously darting his tongue out and against his bottom lip just for a split second before shifting his eyes behind you, and then turning to look around to see if anyone is within ear shot.
No one is paying attention to either of you, and no one is going to hear what you’re about to say to him. Good.
“Do you wanna see my pussy?”
It’s a joke, mostly. Kinda.
You chuckle at his stunned reaction. His hands move to the counter as he clutches it and continuously looks around to make sure no one just heard those lewd ass words from a girl so goddamn hot. Like, oh god, it’s you. You really showed up to see him and already he’s not acting normal.
No, no. You’re the one acting out of pocket, not him.
“I’m–” He tries to start, but his voice cracks in a very, very, embarrassing way. You hear him clear his throat before continuing. “I’m supposed to be showing you that I’m normal.”
You tilt your head at him playfully, leaning against the counter and pushing your tits together with your arms. You wore this shirt here for a reason, and boy are you glad you did. You watch his eyes go straight to your chest and stay there.
“Public Humiliation.” You echo one of his sexual interests to him from his app profile. “Dirty talk.”
Jake swallows around his words in stunned silence, feeling his cock wake up immediately. Fuck, this is the only place he finds peace of mind from…that. Yet here you are, with that soft and pretty voice reminding him of everything he wants but hasn’t been able to have. Standing there like you know he can’t bend you over right now and make you stop talking.
“Eight and a half inches hard.” You continue, leaning in even closer and moving your hand to the collar of your shirt. Tugging down just a little bit. “Five point six inch circumference.”
Jake squeezes his eyes shut as he leans back with a sigh, pressing his hips against the counter for some sort of relief. To think the “boring” girl on the app wouldn’t be like this? God, he knew there had to be a catch considering you were on that app to find him in the first place.
“Please–” He groans as his ears redden, lazily opening his eyes to look at your tits again. “Please don’t do this to me.”
“I can imagine you’d fit it in me just right, wouldn’t you Jake?” You continue briefly, noting the bulge he blatantly presses against the counter. “Can you say ‘please’ again? It’s kinda hot.”
“Please–” Jake blatantly groans now, his voice sounding hoarse and low. As much as he wants you to keep going, he’s at fucking work. He can’t be doing this.
“Okay!” You gleefully agree as you switch up like you didn’t just fuck him up, lending him a bright and innocent smile as you lean back and away from him. “So you don’t want to see my pussy then?”
His relieved face falls right back into that of pained frustration as he narrows his eyes at you.
“Right now?” He asks curiously, nodding his head without realizing it. Sure, he’s at work but like….your pussy is also at his work place right now.
“Yeah! Can you show me to the fitting room, actually?” You ask, louder this time in case anyone has moved around within ear-shot by now. Can’t make him lose his job, or whatever.
Jake swallows thickly with a nod, his eyes still narrowed at you but his mind racing a mile a minute at the fact that you’re really here right now, and this is what you’re doing to him? Enjoying his pain? Enjoying his suffering? Making it worse?
Five minutes ago he was perfectly fine. You’re using his need against him and god, he loves it. Yeah, maybe he will take you to the back and try to fuck you at this point. Even if you said that you wouldn’t let him…what the fuck is this then?
Really, he expected you to show up with an awkward hello and irritating small talk. He wanted to show you that he’s not always thinking about sex. Except he is, and it seems you want him to. You want him to think about fucking you.
You really just walked into this establishment and asked him if he wants to see your pussy.
Of course he wants to see it. You already fucking know that. He wants to fuck it too, like, right now.
And as he walks you to the fitting room, he has to try his damndest to adjust his growing cock. He nods to each customer as he walks by them, hands repeatedly going back to his lap to hide what he’s packing.
“Here it is.” Jake says in an unfocused voice, nearly staring a hole through you. “Now show me.”
You dip your head in a smile, heading for the room and opening the curtain. Cheap ass store, really, most places have actual doors, but whatever.
It’s easy to step inside and leave the curtain skewed a bit, knowing that Jake is hovering around the room, knowing that it’s probably protocol that an employee assist this space when it’s in use to prevent stealing and to prevent others from walking in on naked customers.
You like the way you see him take peeks, trying to be discreet. You like the way he keeps his hands in front of his lap, hiding that you’ve definitely made him a mess of him already. You love the way he whispers a curse to himself when you sit against the bench in this small room and spread your legs wide open.
You bet he loves the skirt you’re wearing for him today too. Though this wasn’t exactly planned or anything, you didn’t expect to be this turned on upon seeing him act as desperate as he sounds. You wore this shirt so he can look, and the skirt too…but looking this much wasn’t in your mind originally.
He’s hot though. The way he needs it is hot.
“Hurry up.” He groans, trying to make it seem like he’s frustrated but you know it’s just because he’s anxiously horny.
And, well, you’re not actually gonna show him your pussy, but at this point you feel bad because he seems really stiff right now, almost robotic in the way he likely feels uncomfortably aroused in his least favorite place.
“Jake,” You whisper-chuckle. “If you wanna see it, you’re gonna have to come in here and take my panties off of me.”
You hear him sigh, and see his eyes flick back to you through the small open space in the curtain.
“You’re insane. I can’t come in there, I’ll lose my job.” He argues with a hushed tone, eyes fixated on the very panties he wishes he could remove.
Even against his protests though, he reaches an arm in as he looks away. As if on extreme watch of other customers and employees roaming around. Probably pretending to grab a garment that doesn’t work for you, probably just doing normal, good-employee things.
And, well, it’s pathetic really, the way he hopes for more. The way you offer more knowing he can’t get exactly what he wants. You actually feel a bit bad for doing this, especially because it wasn’t entirely in the plan.
You really were just coming to meet him. It’s not your fault that watching him work turned you on solely because you know what he needs. So, you stand and walk towards the curtain, grabbing his arm and holding it in place.
“Well–” You start, pressing yourself against the backside of his fingers, feeling him move his hand slightly against your clit. “Touch it then.”
He goes entirely silent but you feel the way he fumbles his hand, immediately grabbing your panties and moving them to the side just to really feel. And you let him, finding it somehow cuter in the way he doesn’t even ask. He does it like he needs to, like it’s instinctual to touch it. He feels for a second or two, probably closer to about five seconds before you step back. Really, it’s enough for him to know you’re wet, enough for him to suffer, enough for him to want more.
Jake’s brain is on fire at it. Touching it before getting to see it? Goddamn, you’re so fucking mean.
And it’s silent for a few more moments after that as Jake keeps his hand in place, seemingly searching for a pussy just out of reach when you slide the fabric down your legs and place them directly into his hand.
“When do you get off work?” You ask slyly now, ripping the curtain open and moving his hand for him, forcing him to shove your panties in his pocket.
“Uh–” He stutters, swallowing again around his words before clearing his throat of the moan he really needs to let out right now. “Seven– I get off at seven.”
You nod with a smile, leaning in real close before patting his pocket.
“I’ll text you my address.”
And you leave without sparing him another glance, knowing that by the time his shift is over, he’ll probably pounce the second you open your door for him.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake suffers through the rest of his shift aggressively trying not to suck on his fingers. Fuck, he wants to taste you so bad, but to go as low as sucking the remnants for several hours just to hold him over? Truly, he’s at his wits end.
Mostly because he absolutely does suck his fingers any chance he gets. Tapping his lips with them as he sees a customer off, licking against them discreetly, trying to make it look normal for him to have his fingers in his mouth so consistently.
It’s not doing anything to hold him over though.
He keeps glancing at the clock, and then at the message that reads your address. Just one more hour and he can leave. Just one more hour and he can bury his cock so deep into you that you’d never think twice about letting him do it again, and again, and again.
Oh god, really, he feels like he’s going insane as he checks out customer after customer. Every word they say somehow reminds him that he’s about to finally get laid again.
“Can you wrap this up for me?” One customer said to him, nodding to a set of candles.
Jake wishes you’d wrap him up in that pussy.
“Do you have this in a bigger size?” Another customer had said to him as they held up a plush sweater.
Jake doesn’t think you’d ever need a dick bigger than his. He’ll fill you up just right.
“69.99?!” One customer argues. “The sign said it was 30% off!”
Jake would sixty nine you all night long if you asked. He bets you taste sweet, you probably get really wet too.
And by the end of the night, rain pounding on the roof, his last customer unfortunately has to hear a low groan leave his throat at their comments. He’s very quick to cover it with a cough.
“Sorry for coming in right before you close, the rain is bad tonight and I forgot my umbrella, thank god you guys sell them! I didn’t mean to drip all over the floor like this, I hope you don’t have to stay late cleaning up my mess!”
“I didn’t mean to drip all over your floor like this” Replays in his head, over and over again. God, he’d make you drip. He hopes you drip all over the floor for him. He’d get on his knees and lick it right up, god.
He needs to leave. Right now.
“S’all good,” Jake shakes his head after the initial moan and cough cover, trying to remain casual. “It’s my job to clean it up, after all.” He smiles, his brain stuck on the feeling of how wet you were when he touched you. Shiiiit. “Have a good night, stay dry!”
And finally, Jake can close out his register and lock the doors. That, he does. Performing his end-of-night tasks at lightning speed with a cock throbbing so bad that he worries he might have to get off in his car before making it to your apartment. He genuinely needs to get off, especially knowing these pretty panties are in his pocket ready to be soaked in his cum.
He doesn’t though, no. He holds off, thrusting his hips up and against the inseam of his pants with every passing second as he drives. He’s practically writhing by the time he gets to your place. Honestly, he moans with each movement because he’s sensitive. It’s so, so fucking sensitive. Everything feels good, he could genuinely cum the second you open your door if he’s not careful.
Careful isn’t something Jake can be at this moment though, not when he lands a single knock at your door and you’re immediately opening it, looking at him with that same fucking evil smile you gave to him while he was at work.
He looks at you and instantly lets out a frustrated moan before stepping in without another word. You feel his hands grab you much harsher than you originally thought he would, but you let him as you laugh out in a nervous chuckle.
“Hello to you too.” You pat him on the back as his arms wrap around your middle. You hear him kick back against your door, slamming it shut before his lips hit your neck.
He isn’t talking but goddamn you can hear what he needs to say through the way he presses his lips against you. He’s rough with it, kissing all across your exposed skin before slipping his hand right between your legs from the back as if he doesn’t have to chase anymore.
You were going to jerk your hips back to make him chase, but his grip is too tight and he’s nearly lifting you off the floor entirely to get a feel. You were going to force him to look at you and the outfit you changed into for him, but again, he’s not having it, it seems. He moans when he moves his lips up and against yours, hot breath desperate and needy as he finally speaks.
“Did it turn you on to torture me like that?” He nearly growls against your lips. “Got me so fucking hard.”
You’re genuinely surprised with how he’s acting and talking. Then again, he’s desperate, that much is obvious if that monster bulge rubbing against your leg is anything to go by. Perhaps he may be desperate, but you guess that doesn’t always mean someone will end up submissive as a side effect.
“It did.” You smile against his lips, pushing yourself forward to try and plant your feet back on the ground, chasing the ability to gain control over him. “Did you like that?”
Jake nods before shaking his head, allowing you to push forward, loving the way your hands reach for him and run through his hair before tugging. He did like what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that it was fucking torture to stand there at work like he wasn’t losing his mind.
“I’d like it more if we skip all the bullshit,” He starts, hand still attempting to reach the spot between your legs and lips landing at the corner of your mouth. “Could go all night.”
You nod to him, gripping his shirt and pulling him back to your living room couch and spinning him around, only to shove him back.
“Is that a promise?” You ask, looking at the lazy way he spreads his own legs and rests his head against your couch cushions, eyes staring straight at you and cock twitching in his pants. “You gonna fuck me all night?”
“Yeah–” He breathes as if he’s in disbelief, hand reaching between his legs just to grab himself and squeeze as his eyes trail your body. “You have no idea how bad I need this.”
“Show me then,” You nod your head to his length that’s hidden under his pants. “Let me watch you first.”
Jake groans, rolling his eyes back both out of frustration and arousal, but he does as you say. His palm feels better with you watching, at least. He doesn’t feel so numb to the pleasure with you promising your body to him, at least. He doesn’t mind proving his size to you by shoving his pants down to his thighs and presenting said neglected cock to you either.
It’s heavy, dark in color due to the blood that’s likely rushing throughout every inch of it. He feels sensitive to even the air in your living room as he twitches and aches to hear you talk again, to see you in front of him watching how he pleasures himself, wishing his hand is yours.
“You wanna watch?” He says in a low-rumbled voice, tracing his fingers along the head of his cock and seething out a breath through his now, bitten bottom lip. “Wanna know how tight I want you to feel?” He asks now, bold and in the heat of the moment. You watch him when he squeezes the base of his cock tightly, you can almost feel yourself choke at that alone.
“How wet you need to be to take it?” He continues, dragging his hand back and licking his palm before spitting into it.
The wetness against his hand is horrifyingly pornographic. So wet when he reaches back down to his length, allowing you to hear it squelch and slip with ease. His breath is hitched while he does it too, which nearly has you seeing him in tunnel vision.
“Yeah…” You tune into him entirely, swallowing around the lump in your throat and feeling yourself drip already. “I can’t imagine how good–” You cut yourself short to moan at the way his other hand holds his pants down while he jerks his hand up faster and faster. “Oh god, you’re–”
“Wanna see how fast I can cum just looking at you?” He continues, hand only moving faster and faster as his grip tightens more, shamelessly grunting proudly over how he could probably cum now if he wanted to. “I told you, I can go all night.”
You pause, because goddamn. You thought he would be embarrassing, pathetic, needy. You thought he would beg, plead, and cry. But…you feel like you’re the one who needs to do that. God, you’ve never seen a man so desperate to fuck yet be so powerful about it. As if he’s in your face whispering, “You’re gonna let me fuck you, right? You’re gonna love it too, right? You’re gonna let me use you to take care of this little problem of mine, right? It’s what you want, right?”
If he were to say those things to you right now, you’d nod without a doubt. But…he doesn’t. He simply looks at you now, heaving out broken moans that sound too sexy to be considered pathetic. His hips chase each movement of his hand and goddamn does he fuck his fist hard.
Your mind is spinning watching him, knowing that he’s probably going to fuck you twice as hard as he fucks himself. And it’s not surprising to you at least that you can feel your own clit swell and throb for touch too. You easily move your hand between your legs, standing right there in front of him, toying with yourself as if you don’t have the power to ask him to do it for you.
“Ah, fuck–” Jake groans, thrusting his hips up into his hand one last time before strings of his cum make a mess on his shirt. And it seems to go on forever too, spurt after spurt of it pumping out of him alongside his pretty moans and open-mouthed expression. You can feel your body react to him more than it ever has for anyone else, especially in the way….
“God–” You moan yourself now, watching him spread his legs and slouch more against your couch with a relieved sigh from his messy orgasm. But…his cock doesn’t soften. No, it stays stiff and heavy against his stomach, twitching and dribbling more and more of his cum out in little beads.
The proof of his issue is right here, he really can and probably will go all night. And you say nothing else to him after that. In fact, he wouldn’t be able to answer you if you did say something simply because you find yourself stepping up onto your own couch, resting your knees against the back of it, and gripping his hair.
Jake lets out a half-moan-half-hum, as expected, when he feels your hand drag his face under your skirt. You didn’t have to do that, but goddamn does he fucking love it. He loves how he can feel your knees buckle and force you to balance on the couch, loves how your cunt is just as needy as he feels, fucking adores the way you drip all over his tongue when he pushes your panties to the side and starts licking you up.
It’s the fact that he didn’t even have to ask you to put it in his face. The slight taste against his fingers all night at work is nothing compared to the way you drown him now. He needs to do this for you. Hell, he needs to do this for himself.
“Jesus,” You breathe, rolling your hips on his mouth. He’s truly eating you like his life depends on it. You can hear his muffled hums at the taste, you can feel his shoulder shake as he starts jerking off again, you can feel the way his tongue goes deeper and deeper, licking each clench of your walls, only to pull back and suck the wet from your panties in a deep breath.
He coos at it too, as if he’s in love with the moment, as if he truly can’t believe he’s finally got a pussy to lick. And he swallows each mouth full of your slick before muttering curses and promises against your swollen little bud.
“Please,” He moans, nipping and licking against you. “Been so long since I’ve eaten pussy, rub it on me- fuck-” he continues to babble, heat-of-the-moment-talk coming out as far more arousing than cringe if you listen hard through your ringing ears. “Come on,” He continues, now neglecting his own cock and gripping your ass with both hands, shoving you back and forth on his face in painfully slow and harsh grinds. “Come on, harder.”
As if you can function at all right now with how rough he is about trying to pleasure you? Fucking hell, the words ignite something in you as you pull back and away from him. For a split second, you see his blown out pupils and fucked up hair as he licks his lips and presents that shining lower-half of his face to you.
You don’t look for long though, no. Because you’re too busy pushing him to the side and forcing him to lay back on the couch instead. You resume your position afterwards, straddling the couch on either side of his head with your knees and planting your pulsing cunt right on his eager tongue.
“You’re too hot,” You moan, feeling his hands go straight back to your ass to force more of those harsh grinds against him. “If you could see yourself right now–” Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you feel his moaned out chuckle hit you right in the clit. It’s like he knows he makes you feel good, but does he really?
Does he truly understand how fucking good at this he is?
“God, if you could feel how good your tongue is–” You continue, now losing yourself in the heat of the moment, feeling his fingers nearly bruise your ass with the death-grip he has on you.
He nods his head in what little space he has as he spirals into heaven behind his eyes. The smell of you suffocates him, the taste of you drowns him, the weight of you is nothing short of sexy as hell. This is all he could ever want. A pretty girl using and abusing his face, much like he wants to do to you. But oh, there’s so, so much he wants to do after so long of having no one but himself.
Eat you out, finger fuck you, slide his cock down that pretty little moaning throat of yours, grip that hair and kiss those tits. God, he wants to do everything right now but he can’t bear to push this perfect clit off of his lips. He cannot fathom losing the taste of you and the way you clench around the tip of his tongue.
Oh fuck.
“Ahh- '' Jake moans open-mouthed against your clit as his brain hits a wall, his cock standing stiff from behind you as he spills out against himself again. Untouched completely, he cums without any effort where as previously it took him hours just to get off because he’d grown so fucking bored of everything.
You’ve ignited him. His drive is higher than it’s ever been after being neglected for so long. God, he wants to fuck you so full that you can’t bear to leave him.
“Fuck–” He continues, trying to lend licks between his jerking body to keep your arousal peaked. “See how bad I need it?”
He finally manages to pull back, feeling you lift from his face just for a moment after noting the way his entire body is shaking. He’s not having it though, as he cranes his neck in chase of your dripping hole once more.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He adds now, enveloping his lips around your clit again and using both hands to force you right back down on his face.
There, you feel the way he almost passionately makes out with your pussy. As if he’s thanking you for a second orgasm within the past ten minutes. As if he truly can’t stop wanting to fuck something, someone, anything at all.
Goddamn, what a fucking deal. All hail the hook-up app that brought this insatiable sex beast to your apartment.
“Jake–” You start, grinding down for him and feeling his hands now move to rub up and down your back. “Keep your tongue in me.” You choke out, gripping his hair to hold his face in place as you sit his tongue inside of you, short and jerky thrusts forward to bump your clit against his nose.
He’s gotten off twice now, it’s your turn.
And you watch as he drops his arms from you and grips your outer legs through it, letting you use his face until he can’t breathe. Both of you are seeing stars through it, your orgasm bubbling up so quickly that you can barely warn him when your hips halt in a stiffened clench and he’s finishing the job for you.
Your legs squeeze around his head, your fingers pull his hair, and still he manages to find the space to tilt his chin up just to tongue-fuck you deeper, just to rub his nose harshly against your clit, up until he feels your quivering pussy spill all over his chin, down his throat, stealing any breath or moan he could possibly give right now.
You’re out of breath by the time you finally slide off of his face, your hands immediately shooting to both of his cheeks as your sensitive clit drags down his stomach for the easy position change. You wince when you lick against his lips at the sensitivity, being sure to seat yourself right against his cock.
“Hah–” Jake lends a breathy laugh against the way you lick his lips, his hands going right back to your ass and landing a sharp slap to it. “Couldn’t even get our clothes off first.”
You take a second to pull back and look at him, noting the redness against his cheeks and nose, likely from your panties consistently getting in his way and then you chuckle back at him. You’re thankful for the short break the two of you seem to be taking at the moment. Still, you lift up from him just to remove your shirt, exposing your tits in an instant solely because you didn’t wear a bra for this exact purpose.
He’s still hard, despite two orgasms. You feel him rubbing it against you every few seconds, right up against your saliva and cum-soaked panties which, mind you, are insanely uncomfortable right now. It feels as if they’re slicing through your thigh with the force of how Jake managed to keep them shoved out of his way.
“Just lay back,” You smile at him, allowing him a longer rest for now as you take it upon yourself to remove the barriers. “Let me take care of you now.”
Jake has hearts in his eyes as he watches you. Normally, a girl would already be falling asleep after all that, leaving him with not enough orgasms and no actual fucking. It’s not his fault he could do foreplay for upwards of three to four hours before going for the finale. Which, arguably, can and will last several hours longer.
Still, you appear to not be finished either, with your breathless smile and gentle hands. He bites his bottom lip through a smirk as he watches you, tits on full display to keep him satiated for now as you move around on the couch to get his pants off of him. He helps a bit with a little kick, his cock still so sensitive and pathetically weeping for more. He feels lucky to have found you, almost baffled that he may have met his match.
You lend several glances at his cock, not quite realizing the way he’s blinking at you right now. To be fair, it’s only natural to have your attention on that thing right now. You swallow around your nervousness regarding the size but equally want him to fuck you senseless with it. You already feel entirely fucked out, but…that. Oh, that could change your life, probably. You can imagine he won’t be as gentle as you expected before all of this too. Would probably shove it in all in one go and lose his mind at the feeling.
He’s probably going to split you open and make it feel good for you too. Somehow.
Anyway, enough of that. You’ve still got to get his shirt off, your uncomfortable skirt and panties too.
You make quick work of it, as you stand to your feet and expose yourself entirely to him. Jake just watches, humming and moaning at each new expanse of skin you show to him. He keeps his hands to himself though, likely so used to feeling of them that they’d bring no pleasure at this moment if he were to jerk off to you doing this. And you just…look right back at him.
“Come on,” You smile at him again, lending your hand out for him to grab. “Bedroom will be more comfortable.”
Right. Bedrooms exist.
Jake follows, cock heavy and sensitive against his thigh with each step as he tries to get up close behind you. His eyes stay on your ass as you walk in front of him, and it’s not hard for him to keep his hands on it. In fact, he’s touching you as often as he can, trying to remind himself that he’s with someone right now who actually wants him.
You seem to be willing to let him do what he needs tonight, and hopefully it won’t be the only time.
You feel him on you, clinging so closely, hands constantly groping, lips always trying to reach the back of your neck and shoulders, to the point it’s actually difficult to get to your bedroom because you want nothing more than to turn around and shove him against the wall, all to try and take him into your mouth just to see if you can.
He doesn’t really let you think about that for too long though, because the second you get to your bedroom, he’s grabbing you from behind and lifting you in his strong arms. You writhe in his grasp with playful giggles, feeling the strong hold he has on you, keeping you in place against him as he stumbles forward with a deep inhale into your neck.
He’s quick to make his way to your bed, dropping you onto it, flipping you over onto your back, and immediately slotting himself between your legs. He hovers over you for a minute, looking directly into your eyes as his hair falls forward.
Somehow, you’re more focused on his face than you are of his cock that he’s sliding up and down your core right now. You reach up to his hair, brushing it out of his face and feeling the sticky sweat at his scalp.
“Could eat you out again.” Jake mentions, hips thrusting against you but eyes calm and level with yours. “Could lock me up in here and just use me all day if you want.” He continues, partially being serious about it, but treating it as if it’s some kinky joke instead.
Because let’s be honest. If there’s any job Jake could do better than anyone else, it’s be a woman’s fuck toy. Always ready to go, always stiff and horny, always willing to please.
“Could slide in right now and let you feel how hard I am.” His voice gets breathier as he talks, and you can tell he’s just imagining everything he wants to do. He probably worries he’ll have to go home at some point tonight only to resume his search for potential fucks to keep his need satiated.
He probably thinks he’s going to exhaust you.
“Could let you do all of that and more.” You respond, lifting your hips just slightly to press his cock between your bodies, throwing your legs around his waist simultaneously with the way you wrap your arms around his neck. “You want me to lock you up in here?”
Jake nods with a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if he can imagine it.
“Do you work tomorrow?”
He shakes his head with another sigh, focusing on the way you keep humping up against his length, sliding yourself in whatever way you can against him.
“Maybe I’ll just have to do that then.”
Oh, damn.
The heart eyes are back. The very thought of being in this room all night and all day tomorrow drives his cock to pulse and twitch. Foreplay can come whenever, fucking can come whenever, he can cum whenever. There’s no need for a to-do list. No need for a specific structure of rules on how this needs to happen. Foreplay, sex, sleep. Not with Jake.
Sex. foreplay. sex. foreplay. for hours. He’ll keep you up all night if he can, fucking and sucking every part of you, into the morning hours straight into tomorrow night.
Free use with you from now until you’re tired of him. You can do anything you want to him but for now…
“Yeah?” Jake breathes out in excitement, arching his back slightly to let his cock land against your hole, and then he pushes forward slowly. The bulbous head spreads your lips and stretches out your slick pussy with ease as he continues to speak. “Feel that?”
Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, fingernails already digging into his shoulders at the anticipation as your legs loosen around him. He continues to push forward, inch by inch, painfully slow as if he wants you to feel the burn and stretch even while being as wet as you are.
“Ah–” He confirms for himself as he watches your face, wincing, mouth falling open. “Yeah, you feel it.”
God, yeah. You do. You feel the weight of his size inside of you, stretching you open so good he probably wouldn’t even have to move for it to hurt. But he does move, he does continue to slide in, savoring every second of your walls quivering and suffocating his cock.
“Goddamn,” He groans, lifting up on both arms and bracing himself as he looks down, only to find he’s only slid half of his dick into you, and already you’re about as breathless as he is. “Didn’t realize how tight you’d actually be–”
He chokes when he says it, sliding out little by little before fucking back in, pushing just a bit more into you.
“S’okay.” You try to reassure him, but it’s more for you than it is for him. You really didn’t think a cock could feel so big that it actually hurts, yet, here you are. “I’m adjusting.”
Jake moans at your broken voice, no longer holding himself back to look at your pussy grip him when he pulls out slightly. He looks at your face instead, witnessing how you take all of it in one solid movement from him. All of it, until he can feel his pelvis rest against your clit and your entire body stiffens in a tight hug around his body.
“Mhm,” He leans back down now, humming against your cheek as he tries to control the urge to fuck. “Taking all of it, aren’t you?”
With those words, he slides out slightly before pushing back in again, trying to force your pussy to relax so that he can stop holding his breath. One hand finds its way to your leg to hold onto, the other holding himself up beside your head, and he just…watches.
Little by little, he thrusts. Plunging into you in short-tight snaps of his hips just to watch your tits jiggle with the movements, up until he really, really can’t hold back anymore.
You feel his cock leave you almost entirely, only to slam right back in and cause your vision to go white with a pang of pleasure. Your loud yelp pairs well with his relieved sigh of a grunt, and it appears that this is what breaks him entirely.
That single, full thrust, lets him fall forward and nuzzle his nose against your neck and his body just goes. Instinctually chasing the deepest parts inside of you, hitting your cervix with each thrust only to drag back and make your toes go numb at the way your g-spot feels entirely too sensitive with this alone.
And god, Jake loves the way you cling through it. The way you moan each time he bottoms out, the way your nails cut into his back and the way your legs continuously fail to stay wrapped around him. He…
Oh no.
“I can go all night–” He breathes out through his relentless thrusts, almost as if he’s pleading with you. “I swear, I’m not done–” He continues to cut off his own words with choked moans as he pulls back and leans up, frantically forgetting to apologize over the fact that he’s already about to cum again.
And you feel him try to slide out, that face he made twice before already alerting you that he really must have so much to pump out of himself at this point. You don’t mind if he’s about to hit a third orgasm, in fact, you’re glad.
Your legs hold him in place as he fights to pull out, his eyes snapping to you in realization after the second time he tries.
“No fucking way, you– you want it?” His eyebrows fall into that of a relieved release as he, too, falls right back down against your chest and lets his hips fuck freely.
He’s not controlling it at this point. You feel him stretch you open more through his orgasm, rolling his hips but not pulling out even in the slightest now. Moving back and forth, as if trying to stuff you impossibly full while he releases those thick ropes of cum. It…feels so good even with the way the base of his cock continues to swirl and loosen you up in a painful stretch that almost feels like he’s ripping you open. Still, the pain is gone as he shakes on top of you, in fact, you feel your clit throb at the feeling of how big he is, of how hard he manages to stay.
He didn’t even fuck you that roughly before this, but it feels like you’re already ruined. Ruined enough to want more. Enough to need more.
“Bet that feels good,” You chuckle against his hair, feeling each pulse of him and loving the way he pants against your ear. “Not having to pull out, knowing you can fuck me for as long as you want.”
That only pushes his orgasm to hit harder. He thought he was nearing the end of it, but instead, his body goes into overdrive as more pulses of cum shoot out of him at your words. There’s so…so much of it he can give you. And if this is what you want, he’s the perfect man to do it for you.
“Don’t say that, oh god–” Jake mumbles through the end of his orgasm, keeping himself tucked nice and deep into you as he releases his body weight and makes you feel slightly suffocated under him. “Please.”
Well, he minds his manners well enough, you shrug under him, clenching around his length unintentionally and reminding him that you genuinely can go all night, just like him.
Reminding him that maybe you really will just lock him up in this room all tonight, all tomorrow. He seems into the idea anyway, right? Both of you just free-use sex dolls for the time being…Hell yeah.
And as Jake catches his breath, he finally lifts up, pulling you with him, and sits you directly on his lap now.
“Keep going then, don’t let it get soft.” He nearly whimpers, solely due to the sensitivity his cock is now offering and the fact that after that third orgasm, he truly is gaining the ability to go flaccid between orgasms.
And you follow his direction, though not entirely how he wanted you to. Instead of rolling your hips, you slip him right out of you and sink your face down between his legs, loving the way his cum spills out of you all the while. You don’t even say anything, not that you’d need to. He watches you, a smirk forming on his lips as he raises an arm and throws it over his eyes.
“Shit, You’re so my type.” He groans out of the sexual frustration that still bubbles within him. You look so good down there with his cock just inches from your mouth. God, no woman has been able to go down on him for too long despite really fucking wishing they would.
His hips always lose control, they don’t like face fucking, he’s too big to fit, they’re gagging too much, their jaw is hurting. What the fuck ever. Look at you, blinking up at him like you want nothing more in the world than to take it all down your throat. Ah, fuck, if you did that…
His hips buck up on instinct, forcing you to hold him down with your arms as you lick your lips.
“You really live up to your promise, you know that?” You smile with warmed cheeks as you speak, blowing air gently against the head of his cock. It’s softened up a little, but it’s no longer going flaccid. You’re sure that the second you work it into your mouth, he’s going to be blocking your airways.
Good.
“You say that like I’m not overwhelming you with all of this,” He chuckles as he moves his arm from his face and down to yours. “Most girls would have already sent me home.”
You circle your lips around the bulbous head, tasting the remnants of both you and him as you gently suckle before popping off and licking your lips.
“Well, Jake–” You look back down and lend his cock a little kiss. “I’m not most girls. Besides, most guys get their nut and leave me hanging. You’ve gotten, what? Three orgasms by now? And you’re still in my bed? Wanting me to lock you up tomorrow too? What a fucking win.”
Jake rolls his eyes because you don’t even know the fucking half of it. If he were a normal guy, he probably would have done the same thing. Maybe not to you, but to others? Yeah. The thing is, he’s not like most guys. And you’re right in saying you’re not like most girls either, considering…your sex drive appears to be just as insatiable as his.
“Fuck, let me eat you out again–” Jake groans now, needing to pleasure you again, aroused by the fact that he’s basically met a female version of himself. Even if he’s just exaggerating and making himself believe such a woman could exist close enough to him. “Let me– Ahh…”
You cut off his words, dragging a loud and sensual moan from him as you sink down. Mostly to shut him up, mostly so you can return the favor for him from earlier before letting him have another lick of you. After all, you truly do appreciate him for all of this.
“Mmf–” You mumble unintentionally, feeling each inch of his length that you swallow up pressing your tongue further and further down in your mouth. Up until you’re entirely open mouthed on him, gagging yourself when he hits your throat only to angle yourself up on your knees to point it straight down your throat instead.
It hurts, but you close your eyes in concentration, breathing through each gag, ignoring the dribble of saliva that runs from the corners of your mouth and– you swallow.
Mostly because you can’t suck. Again and again, you swallow around him just to stimulate his length, the girth stretching your lips out to the point you feel your jaw could break, but it doesn’t and it won’t.
Within an instant of taking his whole length down your throat, you feel his hands in your hair. Your ears are ringing, otherwise you would also be listening to him choke on his words at how you’re doing this to him. All of it. You’re taking him in full, not leaving an inch out, seemingly proving that your mouth can be fucked just as good as your cunt.
He’s in heaven, head spinning as you stimulate him through each gag and sputtered out chokes of a moan. He can’t help it when he grabs your hair, he really doesn’t mean it when he pushes your head down while pressing his hips up. Essentially choking you and suffocating you in full with a paused hold.
You brace yourself on his hips when he does this, squeezing your eyes shut and continuously gagging from the way he abuses your mouth with just that small movement, and then– he pulls back.
“Ahh,” He groans, snapping his hips back and holding you by the hair to keep you from chasing. “You like that?” He continues, letting you breathe but not answer at all before he’s pushing your head right back down, holding you there again and fucking his hips up repeatedly into your throat this time.
The sounds are pornographic at best, concerning at worst. You, searching for air somewhere between his thrusts, the sounds of wet sputters, drooling, whimpered groans from him, and desperate gasps and gags from you. Truly, Jake is in heaven right now. With you, specifically, you’ve brought him to heaven.
For you, it feels like he does this forever. You’re losing the ability to comprehend what breathing ever was in the first place, thankfully though, Jake can see the tears pouring from your eyes and feel the way you fall slightly limp, letting him do as he pleases before he realizes– he may actually be overwhelming you now.
He snaps his hips back quickly, pulling you up and off of the last remaining inches of his weeping cock before taking a good, long look at your gasped breath and abused lips. Tongue licking out and eyes stained.
“I’m sorry, fuck, I–”
Instantly you press yourself down on him once again, resuming your original position of sliding him in until you can’t stand the feeling in your throat, gagging and swallowing around him time and time again. You feel proud of it, proud of the pain, proud of the suffocation.
Fucking proud to not be finished with him compared to every other person, apparently.
“Jesus–” He groans now, his entire body slouching against your bed as he slams his head back and starts petting your cheeks. “It’s like you were born for this. For me.”
You hum around the gags, growing accustomed to swallowing him up and feeling your jaw strain. And just a few moments later, you pull up with a deep breath, a smile, and you start rubbing your jaw.
“Maybe I was,” You try to talk dirty, wanting to drive him insane. “You taste so good.” You add, dipping down again to lick a long stripe up the underside of his balls up to his tip. “Any girl should be proud to say you’d fuck her mouth like that.”
A twitch, he rolls his eyes back and clenches his jaw.
“How are you so…” He breathes out, reaching his hands blindly for you, only to feel you shift on the bed and essentially sit your tits into both of his hands. “perfect?”
You shrug when he opens his eyes, you’re now hovering over him, both hands covering his on your tits as you force him to squeeze and grope.
“Maybe it’s best to not ask questions.” You tilt your head playfully. “Besides, if I’m lucky maybe you’ll stop trying to find other girls to fuck. They can’t take care of you like I will, anyway.”
Oh, you damn fucking right they won’t.
“You can have it any time you want.” Jake smiles, relishing in your tits warming under his palms, watching the way you hover over him tall and proud on your knees. “Could play with you every day and never get bored.”
You feel him move his hand from under yours, going straight between your legs and sliding not two, but three fingers into you with ease.
“Still so wet too,” He hums, eyes narrowing at you with that same pretty grin. “You always this horny?”
You shake your head.
“Not usually, you just turn me on.”
Jake feels proud of that. He doesn’t feel like the odd ball with a dick that can’t be satiated no matter how many pussies he plows through in a night. Which, again, for the past year has been a total of zero pussy. You getting turned on by that makes him feel…capable. Makes him feel like maybe he can be put to use by a pretty girl.
Makes him feel like his need is wanted and well taken care of.
“So, I can keep calling you?” He asks now, fucking his fingers up, loving the warmth and slide, anticipating for when he gets to bury his cock in you again.
“Mhm.” You hum, closing your eyes to enjoy the pleasure of how deep even his fingers reach. Kind of ready for him to stop talking and just focus on what he’s doing to you.
“Even if it’s every single day?” He continues to ask, now using his thumb against your clit. “Even if I need you in the middle of the night?”
Anything he wants if he can keep hitting your g-spot like this.
“Yes, Jake,” You sigh out of aroused frustration, now wiggling your hips to chase that stimulation inside of you. “I’ll give you the fucking key to my apartment if you want. Just let you walk right in and start fucking me.”
His fingers move faster at the image, the implication of not just free-use, but true free use. Real free-use.
“Yeah? Wake you up with my cock sliding into you?” He urges you to keep talking, now removing his other hand from your chest and circling it around his cock. “Just walk right in and get my mouth on you while all your friends are here?”
You lend a surprised chuckle, but pay no mind to his words past the arousal it brings to you. You’d tell him about how you have a total of like two friends, and half of the time they’re too busy to show up anyway. Still, the image is hot at the moment. All of it is hot.
“You’d let me?” He continues pressing every button both physically and mentally, unaware of how easy it is for him to talk as if it’s a normal conversation solely because it’s kind of his general state of living at this point. You, on the other hand, are not used to having a full conversation while your g-spot gets abused. “Even if you’re not home? Let you come home and find me fucking myself for you?”
Oh.
“Fuck–” You groan out at the image, feeling his fingers reach so perfectly, thinking of how it would feel to walk into your apartment just to see this pretty man chasing that tight ring of fingers his fist creates. Probably so turned on and frustrated that you’re not home…so frustrated that all he could do is drop to the floor and start fucking. “God, yeah.”
So that’s what you’re into. You love that he’s that pathetic to fuck. And lucky for you, he’s more than willing to continue to be that fucking pathetic.
“Does that feel good?” He hums now, watching how you fuck yourself against his fingers, lifting slightly to lick against your nipple. “Can I use my cock again?” He babbles almost, brain on constant loop of you actually giving him free reign of your apartment someday so he can come and–”Please, do this on my cock.”
This is the second time he’s asked you to ride it, and you think that may be one time too many. You almost feel guilty for taking him down your throat first, but then again, you don’t. Your body vibrates knowing you’re about to split yourself open on him again, only this time having full control.
“You want me to sit on it, Jake?” You smile, thrusting your hips down and sinking his fingers into you so deep that you physically can see his brain malfunction.
The frantic nod he gives is somehow less powerful than how he lifts his hips, forcing you higher on your knees as his fingers slip out of you and immediately land in his mouth.
Man, this guy must love the taste of pussy. The image of him doing that alone is insanely arousing to you as you lend him a short nod and slide back, your pussy sucking in the head of his cock instantly as if the two of you move together so well, that it was only natural to not need a guiding hand for it.
He sinks his head deep into the mattress with the way you try to sink down on him. He holds his breath with those same fingers in his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut at how tight you still are, how wet you still are.
And he’s shocked, almost, at the way you just keep sliding down. Not letting yourself re-adjust to his size, holding your own breath and bracing yourself on his abdomen just to keep balance and you wince through the stretch.
“That’s it.” Jake soothes your hips as you sit, clenching around each one of his twitches inside of you. “Doing so good.” He breathes out this time, trying to hold back his moan just for a moment as he awaits your moan first.
And it comes quickly when you lean back rather than against him, arms by his knees as you practically present his cock to him buried entirely into you with this position. He lifts his head and stares at it before reaching his thumb to your clit, immediately pressing hard circles against it.
“Ride it,” He pleads now. “God, please ride it.” He loses his mind at the image, really, as you do start moving.
Pained whimpers falling from your lips as you circle your hips, fucking just an inch of him in and out of yourself, forcing the deepest part of your pussy to take the abuse more than anything else. And you know he loves it with the way his thumb stops rubbing your clit, with the way he can’t decide on if he should look or throw his head back and fall into the sensation.
It’s really cute to witness, and you’d lean forward to kiss him if you had the strength to do it, but you don’t. In fact, all the strength you have is currently bubbling up inside of you with a sharp, almost burning sensation.
You know exactly what this is. You’ve practiced it time and time again alone in this bed.
“Oh, oh shit, Jake–” You groan as you frantically start moving your hips through the full and splitting feeling of him inside of you. Your voice sounds so panicked, it almost scares him. And honestly? Had he not have finger fucked you against your g-spot previously perhaps you could last longer on him, but no.
“What– What’s wrong?!” Jake’s voice is broken when he quickly leans up, hugging around you as you continue to ride against him, faster now, chasing, chasing, chasing.
Pushing, pushing, pushing.
“No, no!” You moan out, shoving him back against the bed and now lifting entirely from his length before slapping your own clit, fast, rough circled motions before each slap. “Oh, shit!” You nearly yell, witnessing it squirt from your body straight against his abdomen and chest.
Jake just watches, mouth agape and eyes wide.
“Oh–” He stares. “Oh yeah?”
And you’re not even done when he seemingly takes full control. Allowing all that squirt to fall out of you, ignoring your shaking legs, tipping you straight back and plunging his cock right back into that release of pressure inside of you.
“You just weren’t gonna tell me you could do that?” He grunts against your ear, fucking into you so hard and so fast that your orgasm just keeps coming. It feels too good to speak, too good to breathe.
Even as it subsides and you’re trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t let you. He just keeps going, grunting incoherently against your ear, snapping his hips harder than you think he’s probably ever done before.
Honestly, with each yelp you let out, your sensitivity goes from being unbearably painful to–
“Do it again–” He urges you. “Give me another one.” Babbling, cooing, fucking moaning all over your neck until his lips hit yours.
Somehow, that gives him exactly what he wants as he feels your legs tense up and fall open around him. Your pelvis slamming into his so hard that it’s, quite literally, splashing out of you in loud and painful sounds.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He nods and whispers against your tongue, sucking it into his mouth before licking into yours, nearly rabid with the way he’s both kissing and fucking you, he can’t help it. He forgot words the second he felt the gush rush past his length, trying to force it out of you only for him to go harder. Like hell he’s not going to feel you literally squirt on his cock. “So fucking messy.”
At one point, you think you might have actually died. You’re not sure but you swear you saw him fucking you in third person for two solid seconds before being slammed right back into your body. The pleasure genuinely is so overwhelming that…well, suddenly you understand why girls probably think he’s too much.
But goddamn he’s…so good. Like, you remember him mentioning his body count through his one-sided sext session with you and you can argue his inexperience probably made this that much better. He’s a fucking natural.
And as he continues fucking into you, all you can do is lend him a distant smile. You’re definitely not experiencing real life at this moment, and you know he sees it with the way he lifts and keeps his eyes on your zoned out expression.
“Look at you.” He echoes against your walls. “So, so pretty.”
And he just keeps doing that, whispering praises, working you through his presumed last orgasm of the night because he genuinely can’t not fill you up with his cum one last time before letting you rest.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The rest didn’t last long, but to be fair you didn’t need it to. All night, and all day. That promise was kept and Jake remained insatiable throughout all the time he spent with you.
To the point you very nearly felt strange about him leaving. Like you’d grown so accustomed to having someone literally attached to you at the dick that you knew the loneliness and silence would hit you a little too hard once he leaves.
And, well, he does leave in a sense, but not completely.
Though you never truly meant that offer in the midst of sex-talk, Jake seemed to have clinged to the idea of it. Lock him up, but still give him the key.
Never in your life would have imagined giving a person the key to your apartment, and yet…there he goes. Backing out of a guest parking spot in front of your building with your spare fucking apartment key in his pocket right next to those fucking panties.
꒰ ﹒ pairing: heeseung x fem!reader ... ﹒ friends to lovers, fluff ... ﹒ w/c: 21k
synopsis: for three years, you and heeseung have hovered between friendship and something more—stolen glances, late-night car rides, hands brushing under tables. but when the waiting finally ends, you realize you were never just friends to begin with.
꒰ ﹒ warnings: smut, mdni! explicit sexual content, petnames, unprotected sex (dont do it!!!!) not proofread
💿 % (◠﹏◠ ✿) #nowplaying: waiting room - phoebe bridgers
Three years ago, you met Heeseung at a Halloween party. And, in a way, he never really left.
You remember the night in sharp, neon clarity, the kind that only exists in memories warped by time and too many cheap drinks. The bass of the music was rattling against the walls, distorting into something unrecognizable by the time it reached your ears. The air was thick, humid with the breath of a hundred strangers crammed into an apartment too small to hold them. It smelled like spilled alcohol, synthetic fog from a cheap smoke machine, and the faintest trace of cinnamon, probably from some idiot who thought Fireball was a good idea.
You were standing in the kitchen, gripping a plastic cup half-full of something blue and questionably sweet, when you felt it. The warmth of someone moving too close. The press of a shoulder against yours. And then—disaster.
A smear of green, across your arm, your ribs, your stomach.
You stared at it, confused. It looked like paint. Wet, sticky, and clinging to the fabric of your skeleton costume like it belonged there. You blinked once, twice, before dragging your gaze upward, locking eyes with the culprit.
“Oh, shit.”
He was green. No, really, he was covered in it, from his jawline to his collarbone, down his arms, streaked across his hands. He was, in fact, one of the Ninja Turtles.
“Are you radioactive?” you asked, because that felt like a genuine concern at this point.
Heeseung—though you didn’t know his name yet—blinked at you, then looked down at his own arm as if just realizing that, yeah, maybe painting his entire body for a costume wasn’t the best idea. “I, uh—fuck, I didn’t think—”
“Didn’t think what?” you repeated, glancing down at your once-pristine skeleton costume. “That maybe body paint takes a while to dry?”
“No, see, I thought it was dry. I waited, like, an hour before putting the costume on.” He sounded both defensive and regretful, like someone who had just now realized the full extent of their mistake.
You sighed, poking at the stain. “Well, congrats. You’ve officially made me the first skeleton in history to die of green slime exposure.”
He let out a breath of laughter, then scratched the back of his neck—a habit you’d later come to recognize as his go-to nervous tic. “On the bright side… at least now you match me?”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re trying to make me feel better.”
“Is it working?”
“Not even a little.”
A slow grin spread across his face, lopsided and teasing. “Damn. Guess I’ll have to try harder.”
And he did.
That was the beginning of it, you suppose. A stupid mistake, an even stupider conversation, and a boy painted green who somehow managed to wedge himself into your life like he belonged there. You didn’t know then that he’d become your best friend. That in three years, you’d be sitting next to him in a car at two in the morning, singing along to songs you didn't really know. That you’d learn the exact way he liked his coffee, the rhythm of his breath when he fell asleep next to you on your couch, the way he always looked at you like he was on the verge of saying something important but never quite did.
No, back then, all you knew was that he was an idiot. And that, somehow, against all odds—you kind of liked him anyway. But you and Heeseung became friends by accident.
It wasn’t an immediate thing, not like some cosmic force snapped its fingers and tied the two of you together. No, it was slower than that, more like a series of small collisions, a gradual intertwining of orbits. And most of it had to do with Yunjin.
You and Yunjin had been friends since the beginning of college. One of those friendships that happens fast, like flipping a switch. One day, you were just two people forced into the same group project, and the next, you were sneaking snacks into late-night study sessions, texting each other memes at 3 a.m., and laughing until your stomach hurt over things that weren’t even that funny. She was the kind of person you felt like you had known forever, even though it had only been a few years.
But somehow, despite all that time, you had never actually registered who she lived with. You knew she had a roommate—she’d mentioned him in passing a few times, usually accompanied by an exasperated sigh or an eye roll—but you had never put much thought into it. The guy could’ve been a faceless NPC for all you cared. Just a background character in the world of Yunjin’s apartment. Until one fateful Tuesday afternoon.
You had gone over to Yunjin’s place to work on a mind-numbing, soul-draining research paper, and the two of you were sitting cross-legged on her living room floor. The atmosphere was calm, quiet—at least, until the front door swung open with the force of someone dramatically entering a scene in a sitcom.
“YUNJIN,” a voice rang through the apartment, loud and excited. “I JUST BOUGHT ZELDA: BREATH OF THE WILD. I NEED TO PLAY IT IMMEDIATELY.”
You barely had time to process before the source of the chaos came bounding into the room. A guy, slightly breathless from what must have been a very passionate journey home, clutching a Nintendo Switch game case like it was the most important thing in the world.
And he was green.
Well, not literally—he wasn’t still covered in body paint—but your brain made the connection instantly. The excitement, the unfiltered enthusiasm, the slight air of someone who had been making questionable life decisions since birth.
It clicked.
“Oh my god,” you blurted. “You’re the Ninja Turtle guy.”
Heeseung froze mid-step, eyes flickering to you like he was only now realizing there was another person in the room. For a second, he just stared, lips parted in muted shock, like you had just caught him committing a crime.
Then, in a tone that was both confused and slightly mortified, he said, “Oh. Uh. Yeah. That’s me.”
You squinted at him, taking in the full picture—the messy hair, the slightly wrinkled hoodie, the expression of someone who had absolutely not been expecting to relive his Halloween mistakes today. Then, you turned to Yunjin.
“You live with the Ninja Turtle guy?”
Yunjin, who had been watching this interaction unfold with barely concealed amusement, grinned. “I guess.”
Heeseung cleared his throat, regaining some of his composure. “For the record, my name is Heeseung.”
“Really?” you said, nodding slowly. “I thought your name was Donatello”
He looked mildly offended. “Excuse me?”
“Well,” you said, gesturing vaguely, “I feel like I at least deserve to know which turtle was responsible for my suffering. I thought it was Donatello.”
Heeseung rolled his eyes but played along. “Leonardo. Sunghoon was Raphael, Beomgyu was Michelangelo, and Jake was Donatello.”
You considered this for a second, then turned back to Yunjin. “I can’t believe you live with Leonardo.”
Yunjin, deadpan, replied, “Trust me, I can’t either.”
And that was the second collision.
You didn’t know it then, but this was how it would always be with Heeseung—dramatic entrances, loud declarations, and an energy that burst into the room like an unexpected firework. You had met him twice now, and both times, he had been the human embodiment of chaos. But for some reason, that chaos felt a little less like a background character now. And after that day, Heeseung stopped being just Yunjin’s roommate.
You started seeing him everywhere. Not because you were seeking him out—not at first, anyway—but because he had a tendency to appear in your life like some kind of recurring side character in a sitcom. You’d be minding your own business in Yunjin’s apartment, and he’d burst through the door, ranting about how someone stole his favorite study spot in the library. You’d go to grab coffee before class, and there he’d be, dramatically arguing with the barista about why oat milk was a scam. He just kept showing up, like the universe had decided that, for better or worse, he was part of your story now.
And then, you found out you had a class together. It wasn’t a real class. Not in the sense that it required effort or critical thinking. It was one of those ridiculous elective courses that the university offered purely to fill up credit requirements—something slapped onto the catalog as an afterthought, designed for students who were too lazy or too exhausted to take anything serious.
You had signed up for it without even reading the description, choosing it solely because it fit into your schedule and had a reputation for being an easy A. Heeseung, apparently, had done the same.
That was how the two of you ended up in "The Philosophy of Memes and Internet Culture."
The class was exactly as stupid as it sounded. The professor was a guy in his late 40s who still said things like “epic fail” unironically. The syllabus included assignments like “analyzing the impact of Vine on modern humor” and “writing a 500-word essay on the evolution of the Rickroll.” It was the kind of class that could only exist in a university desperate to appear progressive and relevant, and you were 90% sure the school administration had no idea it was happening.
It was, in short, the best class either of you had ever taken.
You and Heeseung immediately became the worst students in the room. Not because you weren’t paying attention, but because you were paying attention too much—finding everything so absurdly hilarious that neither of you could take it seriously. Every lecture felt like a fever dream. Every assignment was an excuse to see how much nonsense you could get away with before the professor caught on.
And then, of course, came the group project. It was a simple assignment: pick a meme, trace its origins, and present its cultural impact. Most people chose something predictable—Doge, Grumpy Cat, Distracted Boyfriend.
You and Heeseung, however, chose Shrek. More specifically, you chose Shrek’s cultural legacy as an ironic meme figure.
It was supposed to be a joke. A way to entertain yourselves in a class that was already ridiculous. But the further you got into your research, the more serious it became.
Somewhere along the way, you and Heeseung stopped just pretending to care and actually started caring. You spent hours deep-diving into obscure Shrek forums, analyzing the rise of “Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life” discourse, debating whether or not the character’s internet resurgence was fueled by genuine appreciation or detached irony. You became scholars of the Shrek Renaissance.
The night before your presentation, you were in Yunjin’s apartment, sitting on the floor with your laptops open, surrounded by a mess of half-empty snack bags and unfinished slides. The clock blinked 2:37 AM, and neither of you had any business still being awake.
Heeseung was slouched against the couch, staring at his screen with the expression of a man who had seen too much. “I think I know too much about Shrek,” he said, voice hollow.
You let out a dramatic sigh, rubbing your temples. “Yeah. We flew too close to the sun on this one.” There was a beat of silence.
Then, Heeseung slowly turned his laptop around, revealing a slide titled ‘Shrek and the Post-Ironic Era of Internet Humor: A Critical Analysis.’ And for some reason, that was it. That was the moment you broke.
Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the fact that you had just spent the past three hours watching deep-fried Shrek memes with Gregorian chants in the background. Maybe it was just the sheer, stupid absurdity of the entire situation. But suddenly, you were laughing.
Not just laughing—cackling. The kind of breathless, full-body laughter that made your stomach hurt. That made you feel like you were going to die right there on Yunjin’s living room floor, lost to the void of Shrek academia.
And Heeseung—poor, equally sleep-deprived Heeseung—was right there with you. He doubled over, gasping for air, his head nearly colliding with your shoulder as he choked out, “We’re never recovering from this.”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. You turned to him, trying to catch your breath, and found him already looking at you. His eyes were crinkled at the edges, his cheeks flushed from laughter, his whole body still shaking slightly from the aftermath. And for a moment—just a moment—you thought, this is nice.
Not just the laughing. Not just the inside jokes and the chaos.
But him.
You pushed the thought away before it could settle.
Because, at the end of the day, Heeseung was your friend. Your dumbass friend who still had green body paint under his fingernails two weeks after Halloween. Who got irrationally angry at mobile game ads. Who had just spent the last six hours dissecting Shrek memes with you like it was a matter of academic integrity.
And that was all he was.
Right?
Heeseung, on the other hand, wasn’t sure when it started. That feeling.
That weird, stupid, barely-there feeling. The one that sat quietly in the back of his mind, like a notification he refused to check. Like a waiting room. A vague, almost imperceptible awareness that he enjoyed your company a little too much—that your laugh had started to feel like background music in his life, something he didn’t know he needed until it was gone.
Not that it meant anything. Obviously.
He liked lots of people. He was a social guy. He made friends easily, enjoyed being around them, and—despite Yunjin’s many accusations—was not emotionally repressed. He just… liked the things you liked. That was normal.
It was normal that he started watching that terrible reality show you always talked about, even though he swore he hated it. It was normal that he got a random impulse to buy you a weirdly specific snack he saw at the store because “it just screamed your vibe.” It was normal that he sent you voice notes every time he saw something even remotely related to Shrek, even months after your presentation.
That was just friendship. Which was why, as a friend, he invited you to an arcade.
It was one of those places that felt like it had been stuck in time since the 90s—neon lights, sticky floors, a vague smell of burnt popcorn in the air. The kind of place that probably hadn’t passed a health inspection in years, but had an undeniable charm to it. You were too good at skee-ball.
It was honestly annoying. Heeseung had challenged you three times, and each time, you had obliterated him without breaking a sweat. It wasn’t even close. “You’re cheating,” he accused, arms crossed as he watched you land another perfect shot.
You grinned, tossing the last ball effortlessly. “You’re just mad because you suck.”
“I don’t suck,” he argued. “This game is just—rigged. The physics are all off.”
“Oh my god. Did you just say ‘the physics are off’ in a skee-ball game?”
“Yes,” he said, completely serious. “I am a man of logic and reason.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Sure. Okay. Man of logic and reason. If you’re so smart, let’s see how well you do at Dance Dance Revolution.”
Heeseung froze. “I—uh—what?”
“Come on,” you said, already dragging him toward the machine. “Let’s see those skills.”
Here was the thing about Heeseung: he was good at a lot of things. He could play video games for hours without blinking. He could talk his way out of almost any bad situation. He could even recite the entire “All Star” lyrics from memory.
But he could not dance. At all. And that became painfully clear the second the game started.
Heeseung missed every step. Every single one. While you moved effortlessly, barely even glancing at the screen, he was flailing. His feet weren’t in sync with his brain. His arms kept jerking awkwardly, and he could hear you laughing beside him, and somehow, that made it worse.
By the time the game ended, Heeseung was defeated. He doubled over, hands on his knees, gasping dramatically. “I think I died,” he announced.
You patted his back. “You fought bravely.”
He looked up at you then, about to retort, but the words got lost somewhere in his throat. Because you were smiling at him—really smiling. Your eyes were crinkled at the edges, your face still flushed from laughing. The neon lights flickered against your skin, casting everything in shades of blue and pink, making you look—
Well. Heeseung swallowed. That weird, stupid, barely-there feeling? Yeah. It was there.
But you were just his friend.
So, when Beomgyu casually mentioned, in the most offhanded, unbothered way possible, that he thought you were cute, Heeseung should’ve just let it go. But he didn’t.
“You think she’s what?”
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “Cute. You know, in a hot way.”
Heeseung felt something in his chest twist. It was irrational. Objectively, completely irrational. Because, yeah, you were cute. That wasn’t news to him. He had eyes. He was aware. He had just… never thought about the fact that other people might also be aware.
Heeseung almost laughed. It was a knee-jerk reaction, the kind of dry, disbelieving scoff that came when someone said something so absurd it didn’t even process at first. But then, Beomgyu kept talking.
“I was thinking of asking her out.”
And Heeseung felt it. That twist, low and tight, in the pit of his stomach.
He blinked at Beomgyu, waiting for the usual rush of banter to kick in, for the easy teasing to roll off his tongue. But for some reason, his mouth felt dry. Beomgyu liked you. Beomgyu thought you were cute. Beomgyu wanted to date you.
It wasn’t that wild of a concept. People liked you all the time. You were funny and charming in that effortlessly chaotic way, the kind of person who made friends in the span of a single conversation. It made sense that Beomgyu, out of all people, would look at you and go, Yeah, she’s my type.
And it wasn’t like Heeseung had a say in the matter. So he shrugged, leaning back against the couch, and said, “Yeah, good for you, man. Good for you”
And that should’ve been the end of it. Except. Beomgyu actually did ask you out. And the worst part? You said yes.
At first, Heeseung didn’t think much of it. He was fine. It was fine.
So what if you had gone out with Beomgyu last Friday and came back looking kind of flushed, kind of happy? So what if, the next time he saw you, you had that soft, secretive look in your eyes, the one that said you were thinking about something that made your stomach twist in the good way?
So what. You weren’t dating. You weren’t his. And he sure as hell wasn’t jealous. Except then it wasn’t just one date. Because you went out again. And again. And again. And suddenly, Beomgyu wasn’t just one of Heeseung’s friends anymore—he was the guy you were seeing. And that, for some reason, was so much worse.
The thing about Beomgyu was that he was annoying. Like, Heeseung had always known this, but now, for the first time in his life, it felt personal. “Dude,” Beomgyu groaned, stretching his arms behind his head as they sat in their usual spot in the campus lounge. “Y/N is so fun, bro. Like, actually so fun.”
Heeseung clenched his jaw. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. She’s, like… different.” Heeseung made a face. “No, I’m serious,” Beomgyu whined. “She’s not like other girls.”
I’m gonna walk into traffic, Heeseung thought.
“No, like—” Beomgyu hesitated, looking off into the distance. “She’s just cool, you know?”
And Heeseung didn’t know why that pissed him off. Maybe because he knew that already. He had always known that. He had known it before Beomgyu, before any of these dates, before whatever the hell this was.
He had known it since the night he met you. Since the moment you called him Donatello when he was, in fact, Leonardo. Since the first time you said his name with that teasing edge, like you were permanently in on some joke he didn’t even realize he was making.
So, yeah. Maybe he didn’t like hearing Beomgyu say it like he had discovered it first.
But whatever. Heeseung let it go. Because it wasn’t like this was going to last forever. And then, it didn’t.
One day, you walked into Yunjin’s apartment, kicked your shoes off in a way that sent one flying across the room, and threw yourself onto the couch with all the weight of someone carrying a great and terrible burden.
Heeseung, sitting on the floor, scrolled mindlessly through his phone, pretending he hadn’t immediately noticed you. But then, you sighed. A deep, world-weary, existentially exhausted sigh.
Yunjin looked up from where she was painting her nails. “Jesus,” she muttered. “What.”
You groaned, stuffing your face into a pillow. “I think I’m over it.”
Heeseung’s thumb froze mid-scroll. Casual. He had to be casual. So, without looking up, he mumbled, “Over what?”
Another dramatic sigh. You rolled onto your back, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to life itself. “Beomgyu.”
Heeseung blinked. Okay.
Yunjin, who had been the biggest advocate of this whole thing, frowned. “Wait, what do you mean? You were literally texting him heart emojis yesterday.”
“I don’t know.” You stretched out your legs like the weight of your own existence was exhausting you. “I just… don’t feel like it anymore.”
Yunjin gave you a look. “Like, what? He’s a hobby you got bored of?”
“No! It’s just—” You hesitated, pressing your lips together. “Like, I liked the idea of him. And at first, it was fun. But then, the more time we spent together, the more I realized… I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
You exhaled, shutting your eyes. “I feel like I was trying to make myself like him the way I was supposed to. But it just wasn’t working.”
And that was when Heeseung’s grip on his phone tightened. He forced himself to keep his face neutral, tilting his head slightly as he looked at you. “The way you were supposed to?”
You turned your head towards him. “Yeah. Like, Beomgyu is great, okay? He’s funny, and he’s cute, and he’s nice, and I should like him.” You paused, expression softening. “But every time he kissed me, I just…”
You trailed off, lost in thought. Heeseung swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He wasn’t sure why.
Yunjin made a gagging noise. “Okay, ew. Please don’t get all sentimental about kissing Beomgyu on my couch.”
You laughed, pushing her half-heartedly with your foot. “I’m just saying—it’s not clicking. You ever get that? Like, you try to like someone, but no matter how much you do, it just doesn’t fit?”
And the way you looked at Heeseung when you asked that—like you expected him to understand—made something in his chest tighten. Because yeah. He knew exactly what that felt like. He just… couldn’t say it.
So he swallowed, rolling his shoulders back, and forced a small smirk. “Damn,” he said, voice light. “Tough loss for Beomgyu.”
You let out a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah.” Then, a pause. “Guess I’m single again.”
Something in Heeseung’s chest lurched. But he just nodded, keeping his expression neutral, easy, unfazed. Like it didn’t mean anything. Like it didn’t change everything.
A few weeks later, Heeseung showed up at your apartment. It was raining that day.
Not in a dramatic, cinematic way, but in that soft, half-hearted drizzle that made everything look just a little bit duller. The sky was gray, the streets were damp, and Heeseung had definitely stepped into at least two puddles on his way up to your place.
Which, in his opinion, was already way too much effort just to fix your stupid kitchen cabinet.
“Okay, I just wanna say,” he announced as soon as you let him in, dragging his slightly-wet socks across your floor, “I don’t know how the hell you managed to completely detach a cabinet door, but honestly? I’m kind of impressed.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping aside to let him in. “Are you gonna help me or are you gonna make fun of me?”
“Oh, I’m definitely gonna make fun of you.” He grinned, toeing off his shoes before making his way to your kitchen. “But I’ll fix it after.”
You followed behind him, crossing your arms as you watched him inspect the broken cabinet. It wasn’t like you had meant to break it. You had simply been existing in your own kitchen, minding your own business, when the handle somehow got caught on the sleeve of your hoodie—one tug too strong, and suddenly the door was in your hands instead of on its hinges.
“I literally don’t understand how this happened,” Heeseung muttered, crouching down to assess the damage.
“Okay, handyman,” you shot back. “Can you fix it or not?”
Heeseung snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, let me just—” He held out a hand. “Pass me my phone.”
You blinked. “Huh?”
“My hands are kinda full,” he said, nodding towards the cabinet door that he was currently balancing on one knee. “Look up how to fix this real quick.”
You huffed but grabbed his phone from the counter, unlocking it without thinking as you leaned against the kitchen island. You didn’t love the idea of looking up a YouTube tutorial like some kind of DIY newbie, but considering that Heeseung was already physically here fixing your problem for you, you figured you could at least meet him halfway.
So, with one hand holding his phone, you typed "how to reattach cabinet door" into the search bar—
And then, your thumb froze. Because right there, at the top of the screen, was a notification. A message. From Chaewon. Your stomach twisted.
It wasn’t like you didn’t know who Chaewon was. Of course, you did. You weren’t stupid. Chaewon was his ex.
The one he never really talked about. The one who had, at one point, been a name you’d only heard in passing, just a piece of his past that you had no real reason to care about. Except… you did.
Because now, here she was. On his screen. Texting him. And suddenly, you felt fucking ridiculous. Because why were you even reacting like this? It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend. It wasn’t like he owed you an explanation. So, then… why did it feel like this?
You forced yourself to look away from the message, pressing the YouTube link on the screen as if nothing had happened. But something had. Because when Heeseung glanced at you, waiting for your next words, you just… couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.
“Uh.” You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper-aware of the way your voice didn’t sound normal. “It says you need a screwdriver.”
Heeseung raised an eyebrow at your abrupt shift in tone, but he didn’t question it. “Okay,” he said slowly, getting up to grab one from his bag.
You took the moment to shove his phone back onto the counter, clenching your jaw as you crossed your arms tighter over your chest. It was fine. You were fine.
“Hey.” His voice cut through the air, slightly muffled as he rummaged through his bag. “Can you hold this while I—”
“No, it’s fine.” The words came out too fast, too stiff.
And Heeseung noticed. He glanced at you, pausing with the screwdriver halfway in his grip. “You good?”
You forced out a laugh. “Yeah. Why?”
He narrowed his eyes slightly, tilting his head. “You just got all weird all of a sudden.”
“I didn’t.”
“You definitely did.”
You exhaled sharply, schooling your expression into something that wasn’t betrayal or insecurity or whatever dumb thing was currently buzzing inside your head. “I’m just tired.”
It wasn’t a total lie. Heeseung didn’t look fully convinced, but he didn’t push. He just hummed under his breath, turning back to the cabinet as he started working again.
And maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was irrational. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it. The notification. The name. The way your stomach had twisted on instinct before you even had a chance to tell yourself it didn’t matter.
Because maybe… Maybe it did.
The next time you’re at Yunjin’s apartment, Heeseung isn’t there.
It’s not intentional, not entirely. Maybe there’s a small, petty part of you that’s relieved when Yunjin mentions he’s out, like the universe decided to grant you a break from the exhausting push and pull of whatever this thing is between you. But mostly, you’re just here because you always are.
There’s an old episode of some dating reality show playing in the background, and Yunjin barely glances at it as she paints her toenails a shade of red so deep it’s almost brown. You pick at the hem of your sleeve, casual, too casual, before finally asking, “Does Heeseung still see Chaewon?”
Yunjin snorts, like it’s the dumbest thing she’s heard all day. “God, I hope not.”
Something in your stomach untwists just slightly, but you don’t let the relief settle. You just raise an eyebrow, feigning indifference. “What happened with them, anyway?”
Yunjin pauses, her brush hovering mid-air. She gives you a look. The kind that says she sees through you. The kind that makes your skin prickle with the discomfort of being known. But then she sighs, leans back against the couch, and says, “They burned out.”
You blink. “That’s it?”
Yunjin tilts her head. “You ever leave a candle burning too long?” She dips the brush back into the bottle, shaking her head. “They were good until they weren’t. And when they weren’t, it was obvious. Chaewon got tired of waiting for him to catch up.”
You frown. “Catch up?”
Yunjin shrugs. “She loved him first. And she wanted him to love her back just as fast, just as much. But Heeseung…” She sighs, blowing lightly on her nails. “Heeseung takes his time. He doesn’t fall in love all at once, he kind of… eases into it. Like the dumbass that he is.”
Your chest tightens.
Because you think about the way he looks at you when he thinks you’re not watching. About the way he always notices when you’re cold before you even say anything. And then you think about the way he doesn’t say anything. About the way he’s always on the edge of something, always almost.
Yunjin is watching you. You can feel it. And you know, you just know, she’s about to say something that’s going to ruin you.
So you get up, stretch your arms above your head like you can shake the weight of this conversation off your skin. “Right. Well. That was fun. Thanks for the gossip.”
Yunjin smirks. “You’re so fucking obvious.” You ignore her, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table. But before you can shove it in your mouth, she says, “Heeseung’s not stupid, you know. He just doesn’t like to move until he’s sure.”
You pause. And because you’re you, and because this is Heeseung, and because everything about this whole thing is a goddamn waiting game— You pretend you don’t hear her.
And then it’s 2:14 a.m. when your phone buzzes.
You’re half-asleep, curled up in bed, the glow of your screen slicing through the darkness. You squint at it, groggy, before reading the message.
heeseung: you awake?
heeseung: also. do u want mcdonalds
You blink. Then again. You type out a response with fingers that still feel half-dead from sleep.
you: is that even a question
heeseung: valid. be outside in 10
And just like that, you’re stepping into your slides, and slipping out the door like this is the most normal thing in the world. Because with Heeseung, it kind of is.
The streetlights cast long, tired shadows across the pavement, and the air is that weird mix of crisp and stale that only exists at this hour, like the city itself is pausing, caught between the last breath of night and the first inhale of morning.
Heeseung’s car rolls up exactly nine minutes later, music already playing low through the speakers. When you slide into the passenger seat, he barely even looks at you before reaching into the back and tossing you his hoodie.
“You’re gonna get cold,” he says simply.
You huff, but you put it on. It smells like him—faint detergent, something vaguely woody, and the unmistakable scent of McDonald’s fries from however many late-night runs have preceded this one.
Heeseung pulls out onto the street, the familiar hum of the engine settling between you. He’s got one hand lazily resting on the steering wheel, and there’s a soft shadow of exhaustion under his eyes, but he still looks… at ease.
It’s quiet for a while. Comfortable. The kind of silence that doesn’t feel like it needs filling.
Then, as he turns onto the main road, he says, “You ever think about how weird time is?”
You glance at him. “That’s an insane way to start a conversation.”
“I’m serious,” he laughs, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “Like, right now. It’s 2:30 a.m. for us, but somewhere else, it’s a normal afternoon. Someone’s getting lunch, someone’s going to work. And here we are, about to eat McNuggets in a parking lot.”
You hum. “I feel like this is your way of convincing me that time isn’t real.”
He nods solemnly. “Nothing is real.”
“Except McNuggets.”
“Exactly.”
A beat passes, the soft rumble of the tires against the road the only sound for a moment. Then, quieter, more thoughtful, Heeseung asks, “Where do you think you’ll be in a year?”
The question catches you off guard. You tilt your head, thinking. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I mean, I have plans, but… life never really goes how you expect it to, does it?”
Heeseung exhales a small laugh. “No. It really doesn’t.”
You hesitate before adding, “Where do you think you’ll be?”
He takes a moment. His grip on the steering wheel tightens just slightly, like he’s holding onto the words before letting them go. “I don’t know either.” He pauses, then glances at you with something unreadable in his eyes. “I just hope I’m somewhere that still feels like home.”
You feel something shift. A small, almost imperceptible weight settling between the two of you.
And maybe it’s the hour. Maybe it’s the fact that your brain isn’t fully awake yet. Or maybe it’s just him—this version of Heeseung that only exists at 2:30 a.m., the one who speaks in half-truths and unspoken things. But you suddenly feel like you understand exactly what he means.
The McDonald’s drive-thru is basically empty when you pull in. The girl at the window looks like she hates her job, and Heeseung, being Heeseung, makes it his personal mission to get her to smile.
“Are McFlurries still a scam?” he asks solemnly.
The girl raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “You mean, is the machine broken?”
“Yeah.”
“Obviously.”
Heeseung sighs. “I knew it. A tragedy, really.”
Her lips twitch—just barely—but he sees it. He shoots you a triumphant look as he pulls forward.
With the food secured, he parks in a near-empty lot. There’s something about eating fast food in a car past midnight that makes it taste ten times better—something about the way the city is so still, like the world has shrunk down to just the two of you and the glow of the dashboard lights.
For a while, you just eat in silence, the occasional rustle of a fry bag or the quiet click of a sauce container the only noise. Then Heeseung says, “If you could live in any movie, which one would it be?”
You think for a moment. “Probably something stupid and fun. Like… a rom-com where everything works out in the end.”
Heeseung snorts. “Yeah? You want to be the main character that badly?”
“Obviously.”
He grins, dipping a fry into his BBQ sauce. “You’d be the chaotic best friend, though.”
You throw a fry at him. He catches it in his mouth.
“What about you?” you ask, popping a nugget into your mouth.
Heeseung leans back against the seat, thinking. “I don’t know. Something small. Quiet. One of those movies where nothing really happens, but it still makes you feel something.”
You tilt your head. “Like a waiting room.”
Heeseung turns to you. “What?”
“A waiting room,” you say, like it’s obvious. “That’s what those movies feel like. Like something is about to happen, but you don’t know what, and maybe it’s okay if nothing does.”
He stares at you for a long moment. Then he smiles. And it’s not his usual grin, not the teasing, lopsided smirk. It’s something smaller, softer. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Like a waiting room.”
Neither of you say anything after that. The city hums in the background, neon lights bleeding into the darkness, the last remnants of fries sitting forgotten between you.
And then, a party. Not the kind you remember from three years ago, not the one where you met a boy covered in green body paint who changed your life without even meaning to. But still, a party. The music is just as loud, the air just as thick with heat and laughter, the night just as full of things waiting to happen.
You’re not sure why you came. Yunjin had begged, of course, had stood in your doorway with her most dramatic expression, wailing about how you never do anything fun anymore. But even then, you could have said no. You could have curled up in your apartment, wrapped yourself in something soft and safe, ignored the way your stomach flipped when you thought, what if Heeseung is there?
But you didn’t.
And now, you’re here, standing in the middle of someone’s too-small living room, holding a lukewarm drink, feeling like a puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit. And then, you hear your name.
It cuts through the music, through the laughter, through the static in your brain. It pulls you toward the kitchen, toward the familiar lilt of a voice you know better than your own. And there he is. Heeseung.
Standing in front of the fridge, cracking open a beer, wearing a faded t-shirt and jeans that hang just right. His hair is a little messy, his eyes a little bright, and when he sees you, he grins—that same lopsided, teasing, dangerous smile.
"Look who finally decided to show up," he says, raising his drink in a mock toast.
You roll your eyes, taking a sip of whatever’s in your cup. "Don’t make a big deal out of it."
Heeseung hums, leaning against the counter. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
But he’s looking at you like it is a big deal. Like maybe he’s been waiting for you all night. Like maybe he always is.
Hours pass, the party moves around you—people spilling in and out of rooms, music shifting from one song to the next—but you and Heeseung stay where you are, orbiting around each other.
At some point, someone suggests a game. Cards, or maybe something more ridiculous—something designed to make people confess things they wouldn’t say otherwise. You should say no. You should step away before you find yourself caught in something you can’t get out of.
But you don’t. You sit next to Heeseung on the floor, close enough that your knees touch. The game starts, questions fly, people laugh. And then—
Jake turns to you. "Alright, Y/N. Who was your first college crush?"
You blink. "What?"
The group whoops in unison. Jungwon throws an arm around your shoulder. "Come on, don’t be shy."
Your throat goes dry. Your eyes flicker to Heeseung, just for a second, but it’s enough. His smirk twitches—just barely, just enough to be noticeable—and suddenly, you know you have to get out of this.
You clear your throat, reaching for your drink. "I think I’ve blocked it out," you lie.
A chorus of boos erupts, but the game moves on. The moment passes. But beside you, Heeseung is watching you, his fingers tapping against his knee, like he’s putting something together. You pretend not to notice.
Later, when the party has blurred into something soft and distant, when most people are drunk or half-asleep, when the night has stretched itself out into something too fragile to hold forever, Heeseung finds you on the balcony.
You’re leaning against the railing, breathing in the cool air, staring out at the city lights. "You hiding from me?"
You don’t turn around. "You think everything’s about you, don’t you?"
He laughs—soft, amused, something warm threading through the sound. "It usually is."
You roll your eyes, but then he’s beside you, resting his forearms on the railing, close enough that you can feel the heat of him even through the night air.
For a moment, neither of you speak. The music inside is muffled now, the party nothing more than background noise. The city stretches out before you, endless and alive, full of people who have no idea that this moment is happening.
And then, quietly, Heeseung asks, "You really don’t remember your first college crush?"
Your fingers tighten slightly around the railing. You exhale. "I remember."
A pause. "Yeah?"
You glance at him. He’s watching you, expression unreadable, something deep and knowing in his eyes. You swallow. "Yeah."
Heeseung tilts his head slightly, and for a second, you think—Is he going to ask? Does he already know? But he doesn’t.
He just nods, looking back at the skyline, and says, "Me too."
And somehow, that’s worse. Because you think—no, you know—that he’s not talking about some early college memory, some long-forgotten infatuation.
He’s talking about you.
And for the first time, you wonder if this thing between you—this waiting, this almost, this three years of something unspoken—has been more obvious than you thought. You wonder if maybe, just maybe, you’re not the only one waiting.
One month later. The thing about time is that it moves whether you’re ready or not. It stretches, it folds, it carries you forward even when you feel like you’re standing still.
And ever since the party, things with Heeseung have been… different. Not in an obvious way. Not in the way that people would notice, not in the way that Yunjin would tease you about over breakfast. But in the small things.
In the way his eyes linger just a little too long. In the way your stomach flips when he says your name. In the way every conversation feels like it’s balancing on the edge of something you can’t name.
Because you and Heeseung have always been close, always been drawn together like something written into the universe itself. But now? Now, it feels different. Like someone turned up the volume on something you didn’t even realize was playing in the background.
And the worst part? Neither of you are talking about it.
Instead, you’re doing what you do best—pretending. Pretending that nothing is different, that things are still light and easy, that three years of something unspoken aren’t finally starting to spill over the edges.
Until one day, when you’re sitting on Yunjin’s couch, your phone rings. It’s your mother. You hesitate before answering, already bracing yourself for whatever she’s about to say.
And the moment you put your phone down, you groan, collapsing onto the couch, like the weight of the conversation is physically pressing down on you. Heeseung and Yunjin are both looking at you expectantly, their attention fully on you in a way that makes you regret opening your mouth at all. But it’s too late now, so you just exhale, pressing your fingers against your temples before muttering, "My mom called."
Yunjin snorts. "Yeah, we got that much. What did she want?"
You roll your eyes, but the annoyance in your chest is directed at yourself more than anything else. "There’s a wedding. My cousin’s. Next weekend."
Heeseung, who had been absentmindedly rolling a bottle cap between his fingers, finally glances up, eyes curious. "You going?"
"Yeah." You sigh again. "Didn’t really have a choice. If I said no, she would’ve found a way to guilt-trip me into oblivion."
Yunjin grins knowingly. "Classic mom move."
You hum in agreement, then hesitate, picking at the hem of your sleeve. "And then she made it weird," you mutter.
Heeseung raises an eyebrow, shifting slightly on the couch so he’s facing you more fully. "How weird?"
You pause for a second, then groan, throwing your head back. "She brought up the fact that I’ve never brought a boyfriend to anything."
Yunjin cackles. She actually leans forward, hands on her knees, cackling. "Oh my God," she wheezes. "That’s so embarrassing for you."
You glare. "Thank you, Yunjin, for your endless support."
But Heeseung doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t tease. He just tilts his head, watching you with an unreadable expression. "She said that?"
You nod, rubbing your temples. "Yeah. She was all, ‘You can bring someone, you know,’ and then just immediately went for the ‘You’ve never brought a boyfriend to anything,’ like I don’t already know that."
Yunjin wipes a fake tear from her eye, still far too entertained. "Damn. She really called you out like that."
"Okay," you deadpan, "I think we’ve established that this is humiliating for me. Can we move on?"
But Yunjin grins, her eyes practically glowing with mischief, and that’s when you know you should have never said anything at all. "Well," she says, stretching out the word, "if it bothers you that much… you could always bring Heeseung."
Silence.
You feel it immediately—the way the air shifts, the way your stomach twists, the way your breath catches for just a second too long. You don’t look at Heeseung. You can’t.
Instead, you scoff, shoving her shoulder. "Oh my God, shut up."
"I’m serious!" she laughs. "It makes sense, doesn’t it? You need a date. Heeseung’s around."
Heeseung is silent. And that—that’s what makes your chest tighten. Because Heeseung is never silent.
You finally force yourself to glance at him, just a flicker, just to see how he’s reacting to this. And when you do, you find him already looking at you—his expression unreadable, his fingers stilling where they had been absently playing with the bottle cap.
Something tightens in your throat. Because it’s one thing to laugh it off. It’s one thing to pretend this isn’t something charged, something delicate, something that feels like standing on the edge of something too big to name.
But Heeseung isn’t laughing.
When you open the door on the wedding day, Heeseung is already leaning against his car, hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks, looking entirely too good for someone who is supposed to be doing you a favor. His hair is neat but still has that slight, careless tousle to it, his sleeves are pushed up just enough to reveal his forearms, and his black dress shirt is criminally well-fitted.
You try very hard not to notice any of that. But Heeseung is looking at you like you just stopped time.
It’s not obvious—he doesn’t say anything right away, doesn’t let his jaw drop like some kind of movie cliché—but his fingers twitch slightly where they’re resting in his pockets, and his throat bobs as he swallows. His eyes move over you in a way that isn’t just admiration but something deeper, something heavier, something that makes your chest feel too tight.
You pretend not to notice that, either. Instead, you lift an eyebrow, shifting your weight onto one foot. "You gonna open the door for me, or are you just gonna stand there?"
Heeseung blinks, snapping out of it. He clears his throat, pushing off the car, his usual smirk creeping back into place. "Right, yeah. My bad."
You roll your eyes, but your face feels warm anyway. The ride starts out easy. The hum of the road fills the space between you, the occasional comment about the directions or a song playing on the radio breaking the silence.
"You, uh," Heeseung starts, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "You sure your mom’s gonna be cool with me coming?"
You blink. "What? Yeah, of course. I already told her."
He raises an eyebrow. "You told her?"
"Yeah," you say, adjusting the hem of your dress. "I mean, I talk about you all the time, so it’s not like it’s weird or anything."
Silence. You don’t notice it at first, but when you glance over, Heeseung is staring straight ahead, gripping the wheel a little tighter than before.
And the thing is—Heeseung is not someone who gets flustered easily. He doesn’t trip over his words, doesn’t get all weird when people talk about him. But now, he’s sitting there, completely silent, like his brain just blue-screened.
Because you talk about him all the time. To your mom. His ears burn at the thought.
Because it’s one thing to be close. It’s one thing to be your best friend, to be the person you go to for late-night McDonald’s runs and life-altering conversations on balconies. But it’s another thing entirely to know that he exists in your life even when he’s not there.
That when you’re on the phone with your mom, when you’re recounting your day, when you’re talking about the people who matter—he’s there. And it’s so stupid how much that does to him.
He coughs, forcing himself to sound normal. "Oh. Cool. Yeah. That’s cool."
You snort. "I told her you’re my friend, and that’s it."
Heeseung hums, tapping his fingers on the wheel again. "Yeah. Right."
But for some reason, the word friend doesn’t sit right in his mouth.
The wedding is beautiful. Not in the over-the-top, fairytale kind of way, but in the way that feels real. The ceremony is held outdoors, the late afternoon light draping everything in gold, the air carrying the soft hum of laughter and clinking glasses. There are flowers on every table, music drifting lazily through the air, and a warmth that lingers beneath the chatter of distant relatives catching up.
And you almost forget that you’re here with Heeseung. Almost. Except—you can feel him.
You can feel him next to you at the table, the warmth of his presence settling into your skin. You can feel the way his hand brushes against yours when he reaches for something, the way his eyes flicker toward you when he hears you laugh.
And the worst part is that he looks good as hell.
It’s almost unfair, the way he carries himself. The way his sleeves are still rolled up, the way his shirt is slightly undone at the collar, the way he leans back in his chair, legs stretched out, watching everything unfold like he belongs here.
And for the first time in a long time you don’t know where you stand with him.
Because this is Heeseung. The boy who sends you Shrek memes at 2 a.m. The boy who once argued with a barista about oat milk for a full five minutes. The boy who makes you laugh until you can’t breathe.
But right now? Right now, he’s something else, too. Something that makes your stomach flip. Something that makes you forget how to breathe.
The music shifts. It’s not immediate—not some grand, dramatic moment where the world slows down—but you feel it.
The moment the first notes of the song drift through the air, you feel it in your chest. Like something tightening. Like something pulling at a thread you don’t want to unravel. Because you know this song. Of course you know this song. And so does he.
You don’t even have to look at Heeseung to know he recognizes it too. That he knows exactly what’s playing, that he knows how much you love her, that he knows you’ve played this song before—in his car, in your apartment, in the quiet spaces between friendship and something else.
You know he knows. And yet, he still turns to you, his voice a low murmur beneath the hum of conversation. “Phoebe Bridgers,” he says.
You swallow. “Yeah.” Heeseung hums, watching you carefully. His fingers drum lightly against the table, slow and steady, in time with the beat of the song. Then, after a second—
"You should dance with me."
You blink. You blink again. Your stomach twists. “What?”
Heeseung shrugs, like it’s nothing. Like it doesn’t mean anything. “You love this song.”
Which—okay. That’s true. But this is not a song you dance to. This is a song you listen to alone, in your room, in the quiet, when it’s too late and you’re too restless and you’re thinking about things you shouldn’t be thinking about.
This is not a wedding song. And yet, Heeseung is still looking at you like that, like this is a dare, like he’s waiting for you to say no, to call him out, to pull away before it’s too late.
And yet, his hand is outstretched, waiting, patient, warm. And yet— You take it. You don’t think, you just do it, just let yourself be pulled. And Heeseung holds you like he’s afraid to press too hard.
One hand on your waist. The other clasping yours loosely, like he’s letting you decide how close to be. Like he’s still waiting for you to laugh and push him away and say, ‘This is so stupid’.
But you don’t. You just breathe. You just exist here, in this moment, with him.
If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor
I would sit there with my first-aid kit and bleed
Your throat tightens. Because God, this song.
Because you know every lyric by heart, because you know what it means, because there’s something about it that always makes you feel like you’re standing in the middle of something you’ll never quite have.
And now, here you are, dancing to it with him.
Heeseung exhales softly, tilting his head toward you. “You ever think about that?”
You blink. “Think about what?”
His fingers twitch slightly against your waist. “How music reminds you of people.”
Your stomach flips. Because of course you do. Of course, you think about it. Of course, this song, this moment, this whole damn night is going to be tied to him now, forever, no matter what happens after.
You nod. “Yeah,” you say quietly. “I think about it.”
Heeseung hums, like that makes sense. Like he already knew what you were going to say. Then—
"Does this song remind you of me?"
Your breath catches. The air between you thickens.
Because that shouldn’t be a question. Because he already knows the answer. Because you’re standing here with him, swaying to a song that makes your chest ache, and you know, you know he hears the lyrics just as clearly as you do.
I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery.
You clear your throat, forcing yourself to sound normal. “Maybe.”
His lips twitch. “Maybe?”
You narrow your eyes. “Don’t push it.”
Heeseung laughs, soft, breathless. And God, you hate him.
You hate the way he makes everything feel like a game, like he’s always hovering right at the edge of something and waiting for you to push him over. You hate that it’s working.
And when broken bodies are washed ashore—who am I to ask for more?
You shiver. Because this is the part of the song that gets to you every time. Because who are you to ask for more?
Who are you to ask for something that maybe, just maybe, was never meant to be yours? But then Heeseung, of all people, says “I think this song reminds me of you, too.”
Your heart stops. You look at him, and he’s already looking at you, and suddenly this doesn’t feel like pretending anymore.
This doesn’t feel like something you can laugh off. Because Heeseung is serious.
Because his hand is still on your waist, his fingers still brushing against the fabric of your dress, his breath still warm against your cheek, and you don’t know how to go back from this. You don’t know if you want to.
Heeseung shifts slightly, his grip tightening for just a second. “You ever think about it?”
You blink. “Think about what?”
Heeseung hesitates, his eyes flickering over your face. His jaw tightens—just barely.
"Us."
Your stomach drops.
Because he says it so simply, like it’s nothing, like it’s a passing thought, like he hasn’t just destroyed your entire world in one syllable. Us. The word sits heavy in the air between you, impossible to ignore, impossible to pretend you didn’t hear.
Heeseung doesn’t move, doesn’t look away, doesn’t do anything to make this easier for you. He just keeps holding you, keeps swaying with you, keeps waiting—like he has all the time in the world.
You want to say something.
You want to throw your head back and laugh it off, tell him he’s being ridiculous, tell him to stop playing with you. You want to scoff and roll your eyes and pretend that the thought of you and Heeseung has never crossed your mind, that it hasn’t been haunting you for years, that it hasn’t been living under your skin since the first time he looked at you like you were something worth remembering.
But you can’t. Because this is Heeseung. Because he knows you too well, because he’d hear the lie in your voice, because there is nowhere left to hide when he’s looking at you like this.
So instead, you stall. You breathe in, slow and careful, and say, "What about us?"
It’s a cheap move. A pathetic attempt at deflection. And Heeseung knows it.
He exhales, the ghost of a laugh slipping past his lips, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on your waist. "You know what I mean."
You glance down at your hands, the way your fingers are still laced together with his, the way your other hand rests so easily on his shoulder, like this is something you’ve done a thousand times before. And maybe you have.
Maybe you and Heeseung have always been dancing around each other like this. Maybe you’ve just never let yourself notice. The song keeps playing, keeps taunting you, keeps threading its meaning between your ribs, pulling you closer and closer to something you don’t know how to name.
I wanna make you drive all night just because I said, maybe you should come over
You let out a slow breath, forcing your voice to stay steady. "We’re friends, Heeseung."
He hums. "Yeah. We are."
But he doesn’t let go.
He doesn’t move away, doesn’t drop his hand from your waist, doesn’t step back into the safe distance you’re used to. He stays. And that’s the part that gets you.
Because if he really believed that was all this was, he wouldn’t be holding you like this. If he really believed that was all this was, he wouldn’t have asked the question in the first place.
You glance up at him again, searching, waiting for him to say something else, to give you an out, to change the subject, to laugh and let it go. But he doesn’t. He just watches you. And suddenly, you feel exposed in a way you never have before.
Like every late-night conversation, every half-smile, every almost has been leading here, to this moment, to this song, to this feeling that you don’t know how to escape. You force yourself to swallow.
"Why are you asking me this?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
Heeseung tilts his head slightly, considering you, considering his words.
"Because I think about it, too."
Your breath catches in your throat. Your fingers tighten against his shoulder. Your heart slams against your ribs.
You feel like the whole world has shrunk down to just this. To the space between your bodies, to the way he’s looking at you, to the fact that he thinks about it, too.
Heeseung’s fingers twitch slightly against yours, but he doesn’t let go. He’s watching you with this careful intensity, like he’s waiting for something, like he’s giving you the chance to decide what happens next.
And that’s the problem.
Because you don’t know what happens next.
Because you’ve spent years existing in this strange, untouchable place with him, in this in-between, in this waiting room of a relationship that never moves forward but never lets you leave either.
And now, suddenly, here you are. Standing on the edge of something irreversible.
She'll be the best you ever had if you let her
Your heart stumbles. Because this song knows too much.
Because this song feels too much like the two of you, like something ripped from your ribs and put into lyrics, like a truth you weren’t ready to confront. And maybe—just maybe—Heeseung feels it, too.
Because he leans in. Just a little. Just enough.
Not enough to cross the line, not enough to destroy the thing you’ve built, but enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath, enough that the scent of him—clean soap, something faintly woodsy, something entirely him—wraps around you.
Enough that you could close the distance if you wanted to. And God, you do.
But you don’t. Because you’re afraid. Because you don’t know what happens when you let this become real.
Because Heeseung is still looking at you like that, like he could ruin you if he wanted to, like he’s giving you the chance to ruin him first.
I know it's for the better
You exhale, too shaky, too uneven. And Heeseung notices.
His gaze flickers, barely, to your lips, to the space between you, to the way you haven’t moved away from him yet. And then his jaw clenches.
Like he’s just realized how close you are. Like he’s just realized this is about to happen if neither of you stop it. And that’s the thing, neither of you stop it.
Not immediately. Not when his fingers tighten slightly on your waist. Not when your grip on his shoulder trembles just a little. Not when the air between you stretches so thin it might snap in half.
Not until you hear, Know it’s for the better…
The song starts to fade. The moment fractures. And just like that, you both pull away.
Not much. Just an inch, a breath, a single second too late. But it’s enough.
Enough for reality to settle back in. Enough for the noise of the wedding to come rushing back, for the chatter and laughter and clinking glasses to remind you where you are, who you are, what you almost did.
And Heeseung, he knows it, too. You see it in the way his throat bobs, in the way he blinks hard, in the way he forces himself to take a step back, to drop his hand from your waist, to roll his shoulders like he can shake off whatever just happened between you.
The song ends. And neither of you say a word.
And three months later, silence.
At first, it’s subtle—just a missed text here, a conversation that doesn’t last as long as it used to, an inside joke that no longer lands the way it should. But then it becomes something else. Something colder. Something that feels less like a pause and more like a choice.
And that’s what happened to you and Heeseung.
You didn’t stop talking completely. That would have been too obvious, too final, too much like admitting that something had shifted beyond repair. You still sent the occasional meme, still ran into each other at Yunjin’s, still had conversations that skimmed the surface of what they used to be.
But it was different. The late-night McDonald’s runs stopped. The effortless teasing felt strained. The ease of being around each other—the one thing you never questioned—was suddenly gone.
Neither of you did anything about it. You let it happen. Because it was easier that way.
Because acknowledging it meant admitting that something had changed, that you had gotten too close, that something had almost happened that night at the wedding. And you weren’t ready to admit that.
You weren’t ready to ask if Heeseung had almost kissed you, or if you had almost kissed him, or if you had both just been caught in some stupid, fleeting moment that meant nothing at all. So, you didn’t.
And now, three months later, all that’s left is silence.
The rain comes down in sheets, heavy and relentless, drumming against the windows of your apartment. You sit curled up on your couch, blanket wrapped around you, phone abandoned on the coffee table. The storm had rolled in an hour ago, sudden and unforgiving, and now the whole city feels swallowed by it, the streetlights barely visible through the downpour.
Then, there’s a knock at your door. You weren’t expecting anyone. It’s too late, too stormy, too much of a nothing kind of night for visitors.
But something in you knows—before you even open the door, before you even take that first breath—that it’s him.
And it is. It’s Heeseung.
Standing in your doorway, soaking wet, hair plastered to his forehead, breathing unevenly like he just ran here.
You freeze. "Heeseung?"
His eyes flicker over your face, searching, desperate, wild in a way you’ve never seen before. His clothes are damp, sticking to his frame, his hands clenched at his sides. But it’s his expression that gets you.
Like something is breaking inside of him. Like something has already broken.
“I can’t—” His voice catches, hoarse and raw, and then he shakes his head, like words are failing him, like they’re too small for what he’s trying to say.
Your heart is pounding. “Heeseung, what are you—”
"I can’t stop thinking about you."
The words crash into you like a wave, knocking the breath from your lungs. You stare.
Heeseung swallows hard, shaking his head like he’s trying to clear it, like he’s trying to find a way to make you understand.
"I’ve tried," he continues, voice shaking. "I really, really tried. But you’re always there. You’re in every song I hear, in every dumb inside joke, in every single thing that happens to me. I see something stupid and my first thought is always, ‘Y/N would think that’s hilarious.’ I go to text you and then I stop because I don’t know if I’m supposed to anymore. I—"
He lets out a sharp, frustrated laugh, dragging a hand through his wet hair. “I thought if I just gave it time, it would go away. I thought I could just—move past it. But I still feel like I’m standing in that damn Halloween party with you, waiting for something to happen.”
Your throat is tight. “Heeseung—”
“I miss you,” he interrupts, pushing forward, stepping into your space like he’s afraid you’ll shut the door on him if he doesn’t. "I miss you so much it’s making me lose my goddamn mind."
Your pulse is roaring in your ears. You should say something. You should do something. But you can’t. You just stand there, staring at him, your body frozen in place. And Heeseung just keeps talking.
"I don’t know how to be your friend anymore," he admits, wrecked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know how to sit next to you and act like I don’t want more. I don’t know how to look at you and pretend that you’re not the first person I think about when I wake up and the last person I think about before I fall asleep. I don’t know how to listen to that fucking song without remembering the way you looked at me that night."
The air is too thick. Your vision is blurring.
Heeseung breathes out a shaky, desperate laugh, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "And the worst part?" He meets your eyes, and it destroys you. "I don’t think I want to stop thinking about you."
And that’s it.
That’s what breaks you. That’s what makes you move.
You don’t think. You don’t hesitate.
You step forward, grab the front of his stupid wet shirt, and kiss him.
The storm rages outside. And for the first time in three years, neither of you pull away.
The moment your lips crash into his, Heeseung stumbles back a step, caught off guard, but then he’s pulling you closer, like he’s been waiting for this forever.
His hands cup your face, fingers threading into your hair, holding you like you might disappear if he lets go. And you grip the front of his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you standing, like if you let go, the moment might shatter around you.
Heeseung sighs into the kiss, like he’s relieved, like this is something he’s needed more than breathing itself. He tilts his head, deepening it, and you melt into him, the heat of his mouth sending shivers down your spine.
It’s surreal, familiar and foreign all at once, like stepping into a dream you’ve had before but never been able to hold onto. Because this is Heeseung. The boy who has always been by your side, the boy who has spent years making you laugh until your stomach hurts, the boy who has always been a constant in your life.
But now, he’s something else too. Now, he’s the only thing you can feel. And that’s the strangest part, how utterly consuming this is. Because your brain is struggling to keep up, still caught in the absurdity of it—Heeseung is kissing me, I’m kissing Heeseung, this is happening, this is happening.
And then he moves forward, stepping into the apartment fully, finally, his hands still tangled in your hair, still refusing to let you go. The door clicks shut behind him, the sound almost lost beneath the roar of the storm outside.
Heeseung doesn’t hesitate. His lips find yours again, his hands skimming over your waist, like he’s memorizing the shape of you, like he’s trying to make up for all the time he spent pretending he didn’t want this. And you can’t breathe. Because this isn’t like any kiss you’ve ever had before.
You’ve kissed people you liked. You’ve kissed people you thought you could love. But you have never, never felt this. This heat, this ache, this impossible, indescribable pull. Like your entire life has been leading up to this moment.
Like every other kiss you’ve had before this was just a poor imitation of what it was supposed to feel like. And that’s terrifying. Because how do you go back after this? How do you pretend this doesn’t mean something?
Heeseung exhales against your lips, his breath uneven, his fingers tightening just slightly against your waist. Like he’s thinking the same thing, like he’s struggling just as much as you are to make sense of this.
You should stop. You should pull away, take a breath, process. But you can’t.
Because he tilts his head, kisses you deeper, and suddenly, you’re walking backward without realizing it, your body moving on instinct, your hands clutching at his shirt as if he’s the only thing keeping you steady. Heeseung follows, one hand sliding down to rest against the small of your back, guiding you without thinking, without hesitation.
Your legs hit the couch. You stumble slightly, your balance faltering for the first time, and Heeseung, on pure reflex, catches you. His hands tighten instantly, pulling you against him, steadying you before you can fall.
But the movement leaves zero space between you. You can feel everything, his chest rising and falling against yours, the heat radiating off of him, the way his fingers twitch slightly where they’re curled into the fabric of your shirt.
His breath brushes against your lips, his nose bumping against yours as you both hover, just for a moment, just long enough to realize how close you are, just long enough to make it worse.
Before you can stop yourself, before you can think, you kiss him again. This time, it’s slower. This time, it’s deeper. This time, it’s not about the rush, the adrenaline, the storm raging outside. This time, it’s about everything else.
About the way his hands move carefully now, like he’s trying to remember every single detail, about the way he tilts his head slightly to fit his mouth against yours like he’s done this a thousand times in his head, about the way he lets out a soft, wrecked sound when you slide your fingers up into his still-damp hair. And you’re drowning in him.
You fall back onto the couch, pulling him with you, and he follows without hesitation, bracing himself with one hand on the cushion beside you, the other still gripping your waist, his fingers trembling just slightly against your skin.
His lips leave yours only for a second, just long enough for him to breathe, just long enough for his eyes to flicker over your face, like he’s trying to memorize you at this moment.
And then, so softly you almost don’t hear it—
“Tell me you want this.”
Your breath catches. Because God, you do. You do. You always have. So you don’t say anything. You just pull him down and kiss him again.
The weight of him settles over you, his body pressed against yours, his hands everywhere and nowhere at once—on your waist, your ribs, twitching like he doesn’t know where to hold you first, like he doesn’t want to stop touching you long enough to decide.
It's overwhelming. His warmth, his scent, the soft, unsteady breaths he exhales between kisses, the way his fingers slide under the hem of your shirt just slightly, just enough to brush against bare skin. It’s careful. Hesitant. Like he’s testing something fragile.
Heeseung groans softly, his grip tightening, his lips parting against yours in a way that sends a full-body shiver down your spine. His hands move up your sides, down to your hips, fingers pressing into the fabric of your clothes like he wants to commit this exact moment to memory. You arch just slightly, chasing his warmth, and the movement makes Heeseung suck in a sharp breath, his forehead pressing briefly against yours.
“You’re gonna kill me,” he mutters.
You laugh, breathless, hands sliding up into his hair, tugging just enough to make him shudder. “That’s dramatic.”
His lips graze yours again, barely there, just enough to drive you insane. “You have no idea.”
And you could stay here forever—wrapped up in him, in his weight, in the way his lips brush over your jaw, the corner of your mouth, like he’s learning you one kiss at a time.
He shifts just slightly, pressing more of his weight into you, his thigh slipping between yours, and your breath catches. Heeseung notices immediately. You feel it in the way his body tenses, in the way his grip on your waist tightens, in the way he exhales shakily against your cheek.
You don’t move. He doesn’t move. The air changes. Slows. Thickens. And suddenly, it’s not just kissing anymore. Suddenly, it’s so much more than that. It’s every feeling you’ve been ignoring, every second of the past three years, every single moment leading up to this one catching up to you all at once.
And Heeseung feels it too. Because he pulls back, just a little, just enough to look at you properly, his expression wrecked. His fingers brush against your cheek, light, careful, like he’s waiting for you to tell him to stop. Like he’s scared of what happens if you don’t.
You stare up at him, breathless, your pulse pounding in your ears, and— God, he’s beautiful.
His hair is still damp from the rain, strands falling over his forehead in a way that makes him look softer. His lips are kiss-bruised, parted slightly as he catches his breath, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.
You exhale slowly, one hand sliding down his chest, feeling the way his heart slams against his ribs, and he shudders. You know what this means. You know there’s no going back after this. So you whisper—soft, shaky, everything all at once—
"Heeseung."
And that’s all it takes.
Heeseung exhales—a shaky, uneven breath, like he’s barely holding himself together. His fingers tighten slightly where they rest on your waist, his body still hovering over yours. Then, softly, barely above a whisper—
"Say my name again."
Your stomach flips. You don’t, not at first. Because you feel lightheaded, because this is Heeseung, because what the hell is happening right now?
But Heeseung isn’t impatient. He doesn’t push. He just watches you, his gaze flickering over your face—your lips, your eyes, the way your breath catches in your throat. And then, carefully, deliberately, he grabs your wrist.
Your breath hitches as he lifts your hand, as he guides it slowly, until your palm is pressed flat against his chest. You can feel it. His heartbeat. It’s slamming against his ribs, too fast, too unsteady, completely out of control.
You stare at your hand, at where it rests over his racing pulse, at the way his skin burns beneath your touch. Heeseung swallows hard.
"You feel that?" he murmurs, his voice low, rough, wrecked.
And you do, because it’s all you can feel, because it’s like his entire body is responding to you, and you nod, your fingers twitching slightly against his shirt.
Heeseung lets out a breath like he’s relieved, like he needed you to know this, to feel this, to understand what you do to him. Then, slowly, carefully, giving you every chance to stop him, he leans down, brushing his lips against the curve of your jaw. You suck in a breath, your eyes fluttering shut as he moves lower, pressing the softest, slowest kiss to the side of your neck. Your fingers curl against his shoulders, your pulse hammering beneath your skin, and he feels it.
“Heeseung,” you breathe, and it’s embarrassing how it comes out, a little too soft, a little too needy, like you’re already losing yourself in him.
He shudders, letting out a sharp breath. “Fuck—”
Then, his teeth graze your pulse point, and you gasp, back arching instinctively into him. Your hips shift beneath his, your hands moving without thinking, fingers grasping at the hem of his hoodie, your skin itching for more of him, more warmth, more of everything.
Heeseung lets you. He lets you push the fabric up, lets you brush your fingers over the bare skin of his stomach, lets you feel the way his muscles tense under your touch. He exhales a groan, head dropping to your shoulder like you’ve just taken the breath right out of him.
He murmurs your name, voice strangled, his fingers digging into your waist as if you’ve completely unraveled him. You suck in a breath, your hands still fisting his hoodie.
“I want to hear you,” he admits, so quietly, like he almost wasn’t planning to say it out loud. “I want to—”
He cuts himself off with another soft groan as you push the hoodie all the way up, your fingers skimming over his bare chest before you finally tug it over his head. It hits the floor with a soft thud, but you barely register it.
Because Heeseung is above you, half-naked, breathing heavy, flushed, and looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that exists. You don’t know what to do with yourself. So you just stare up at him, breathless, waiting. And then, finally, you whisper—
"Heeseung, tell me what you want."
Heeseung exhales sharply, his breath warm against your skin, his fingers still pressing into your waist like he’s trying to ground himself, steady himself, like he’s trying not to lose his mind completely.
His hand slides up, fingertips grazing your ribs, slow and deliberate, and you shudder beneath him. His thumb brushes the fabric of your shirt, his touch gentle but knowing, and he meets your eyes, and God, he looks ruined.
"I want—" He starts, but then he laughs breathlessly, shaking his head like he can’t believe himself, like this is too much, like you are too much. His hands are still moving, still exploring, still teasing at the fabric of your shirt, still making your body burn in ways you’ve never felt before. "I want all of you."
Your stomach flips. Because he’s not even touching you properly, and yet it’s the way he says it, the weight of his voice, the truth in it, that makes your pulse stutter.
And then, before you can respond, before you can tease him for how wrecked he sounds, his hands move, slow and deliberate. Fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt, pushing it up, knuckles skimming over your stomach, over your ribs, over every single inch of skin he reveals as he goes.
Your breath stutters, your body arching up into his touch. His jaw clenches, his lips part, and then he’s leaning down, pressing his mouth to your collarbone, trailing featherlight, open-mouthed kisses along your skin as he slowly tugs your shirt over your head.
And then, finally, your shirt joins his hoodie on the floor. And suddenly, you’re both bare and breathless, staring at each other like you don’t know what to do next, even though you both know exactly what’s about to happen.
"Heeseung," you whisper, and his eyes flicker, dark, burning, like your voice alone is enough to unravel him.
"You’re not making this easy," he murmurs, his fingers skimming up your sides, his thumb brushing along your ribs, his body pressing down just slightly, just enough to feel how perfectly he fits against you.
Your breath catches. "Good."
And that ruins him. Heeseung groans, low and deep, and then he’s leaning down again, lips trailing along your jaw, down your neck, to your collarbone, soft, open-mouthed kisses, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every single second. His voice is strained, thick with something raw, something undeniable.
"You feel so good."
You whimper at his words, your nails digging into his shoulders, and Heeseung reacts immediately, his hips pressing down, his body slotting perfectly against yours, his breath catching as he feels you, all of you, right there beneath him.
"Shit," he mutters, his head dropping to your shoulder, his hands gripping your waist like he needs something to hold onto. You’re both breathless now, bodies pressed so close there’s no space left between you, every single movement sending heat crashing through your veins. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this."
Your heart stumbles. Because neither of you were supposed to say it. Neither of you were supposed to acknowledge it. But now—it’s out there. And there’s no taking it back.
And then Heeseung looks at you, really looks at you. His eyes, dark and hooded with something deeper than just desire, trace every inch of your face, your parted lips, the flush spreading down your neck, the way your chest rises and falls, rapid and uneven beneath him.
“You’re…” He swallows hard, his voice thick with something close to reverence. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
His hands move lower, squeezing your thighs before dragging up again, pushing your legs further apart beneath him. Heeseung exhales sharply, his pupils blown wide as he takes in the way you look beneath him, flushed, needy, completely and utterly his for the taking.
“Fuck.” His voice is raw, thick with barely restrained need. “You’re perfect.”
His mouth finds your collarbone, lips hot and insistent as he moves lower, tasting, worshiping. His tongue flicks over the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing lightly before he sucks, leaving a mark. His fingers dig into your skin as he rolls his hips down against yours, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips. He watches, fascinated, as your body reacts to his, as your fingers clutch at his arms, as your lips part with another breathy whimper that shoots straight through his bloodstream.
“You like that?” he murmurs, dragging his lips up to your ear, his voice nothing but a low rasp. “Like feeling me this close?” You nod, but it’s not enough. Heeseung needs to hear you say it. “Tell me,” he demands, his fingers tightening just enough to make you squirm.
“Yes,” you gasp, your voice barely more than a breath.
Heeseung smirks against your skin, the sound of your desperation fueling the heat building between you. “Good.” His lips trail back down, kissing, tasting, exploring every inch of you. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”
Heeseung hovers over you, his breath warm against your skin as his hands trail lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your pants. His fingers toy with the fabric at your hips, teasing. His voice, when he speaks, is deep and laced with restraint.
“Can I take these off?”
His eyes flick up to meet yours, and the sight of him like this—his lips swollen, his gaze dark with barely contained desire, sends a shiver down your spine. Your stomach tightens, heat curling low in your belly as you whisper, “Yes.”
And the second the word leaves your lips, Heeseung exhales sharply, like he’s been holding back this whole time. His hands move with deliberate slowness, sliding under the waistband, his fingers warm and firm against your hips as he starts to pull your pants down.
His hands guide your pants lower until they slip past your thighs, pooling somewhere near your ankles, and he takes his time, his lips pressing slow, reverent kisses along the soft skin of your lower belly, just above the edge of your underwear.
He groans against your skin, his voice husky. “You have no idea how good you look right now.”
His hands splay over your thighs, his lips follow the same path, pressing kisses, biting gently, dragging his tongue across the warmth of your skin as he moves lower. You let out a shaky breath as he spreads your legs just a little more, his fingers gripping, massaging, his lips marking every inch of your inner thighs as he inches closer to where you need him most.
Heeseung hums against your skin, his breath hot, teasing. “So soft,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with admiration, with hunger. His hands squeeze your thighs, his fingers digging in just enough to make you arch slightly. “So perfect.”
His lips brush dangerously close to the edge of your underwear, his nose nuzzling against the sensitive skin just beside it, inhaling deeply like he wants to drown in you. His grip tightens. His lips part, and he looks up at you.
The sight of him between your legs, hair messy, lips swollen, his dark eyes filled with something you can’t quite name—it’s almost too much.
His voice is thick, teasing but affectionate. “You’re shaking,” he notes, his thumb brushing the inside of your thigh in slow, soothing circles.
Your breath catches. “Because of you.”
Heeseung groans softly, his hands gripping tighter, his lips trailing higher again, back to your hip, back to your stomach, his teeth scraping lightly against the sensitive skin there. “You have no idea how much I love hearing that,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.
Slowly, he starts to move up. His fingers slide up to cup your face, his thumb brushing softly over your cheek, like he needs to feel every part of you, like he’s grounding himself in your presence. He exhales sharply, his forehead resting against yours for the briefest second, like he’s gathering himself, like he’s trying to hold back.
“I need to taste you,” he murmurs, his voice nothing but a raw, desperate rasp. “Please.”
Your breath stutters, your fingers gripping onto his arms, feeling the tension coiled tight beneath his skin. You swallow hard, trying to steady yourself, but the truth is, you want this just as much.
“I need to hear you say it,” he murmurs.
Your pulse is a pounding rhythm against your ribs, your whole body thrumming with heat, but somehow, you manage to find your voice.
“Yes,” you whisper. “I want it. I want you.”
Heeseung groans, his grip tightening for just a second before he’s moving again, kissing down your neck, your collarbone, your chest. His hands slide back down your body, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every inch of you.
And then he’s sinking back down between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours, his hands parting your legs with a reverence that makes your head spin.
Heeseung grips the hem of your underwear between his fingers, his breathing ragged, his hands slightly trembling as he looks up at you. His eyes search yours, dark and full of something raw. “Can I?” His voice is hushed, reverent, like a prayer whispered into the silence.
Your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths, as you nod. “Yes,” you murmur.
Heeseung exhales, almost like he’s relieved, like he was afraid you’d stop him. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he slides the fabric down your legs, his fingers grazing your skin as he does, his touch both featherlight and electric.
And then he sees you. His breath catches in his throat, his hands tightening slightly around your thighs as he takes you in. His gaze, hooded and heavy with admiration, rakes over you like he’s trying to commit every inch of you to memory, like he can’t quite believe you’re real.
“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his voice almost disbelieving.
The way he’s looking at your body, so intense, so completely captivated, sends a flush of heat racing up your spine. Your instincts kick in, your legs twitching slightly as the urge to close them overtakes you. But Heeseung doesn’t let you.
His hands move quickly, firm but gentle as he grips your thighs, keeping you open for him. “Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs. “You’re fucking perfect.”
Your breath hitches, your whole body thrumming under his touch. Heeseung leans in, lips ghosting over your inner thigh, his breath hot against your already burning skin. He looks up at you again, his eyes locking onto yours, and what he says next sends a sharp pulse of anticipation straight through your core.
“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he promises, his voice low, edged with something sinful. “So good that you’ll never forget me.”
And then he dips down. The first press of his mouth against your clit is enough to steal the air from your lungs. Warm, wet, hungry—Heeseung doesn’t just touch, he devours. His tongue moves slow at first, tasting you, savoring every single reaction you give him.
You gasp, arching against him, your body already trembling from the sheer intensity of his touch. Heeseung groans against you, the sound vibrating through your core, sending shockwaves up your spine. His grip on your thighs tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he keeps you exactly where he wants you.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your heat. “Just like I knew you would.”
Your moans come freely now, breathy, desperate, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as Heeseung works you open with his mouth. He hums against you, pleased, lost in you, whispering praise between every stroke of his tongue. “So good for me.” Kiss. “So fucking perfect.” Lick. “You’re mine.” Suck.
And when you whimper his name, broken and pleading, Heeseung only grips your thighs tighter and pulls you even closer, determined to ruin you completely.
Heeseung groans against you, the vibrations sending a shiver up your spine as he keeps his mouth latched onto your clit, sucking, licking, savoring you like he’s starving. Then, slowly, he moves one hand between your legs, his fingers tracing a teasing path through your slick folds. You shudder, your hips instinctively bucking at the sensation, and Heeseung chuckles, a low, rough sound against your skin.
“So wet for me,” he murmurs, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before glancing up at you through dark lashes. “So fucking perfect.”
And then he presses a finger inside you. The stretch is slow, deliberate, his touch both gentle and utterly devastating as he sinks into your heat. You gasp sharply, your walls fluttering around him, and Heeseung groans, low and guttural.
“Fuck,” he hisses, watching the way you take him in. His finger curls inside you, testing, feeling. “You’re so tight, baby.”
The words send another wave of heat crashing through you, your body tightening at the sheer hunger in his voice. Heeseung doesn’t stop, he eases his finger in deeper as he continues working you open, his tongue never once leaving your clit. Your back arches, your fingers tangling in his hair, and Heeseung groans again, the sound muffled as he devours you, the heat of his mouth sending you spiraling closer to the edge.
“Heeseung—” His name slips from your lips, breathless, desperate.
Heeseung growls against you, deep and possessive, and you swear you can feel the sound reverberate through your entire body. His grip tightens, his pace quickens, his finger thrusting deeper, curling, coaxing pleasure out of you with every calculated stroke.
And then he adds a second finger. Your body tenses, the stretch just enough to make you whimper, and Heeseung groans at the way you clench around him.
“You’re taking me so well,” he praises, his voice thick, raspy, dripping with admiration. “So fucking perfect for me.”
His lips wrap around your clit again, sucking hard, and your body seizes, heat curling so tight inside you that you can’t hold back any longer. Heeseung feels it, and he sucks harder, pumps his fingers deeper, his other hand pressing down on your stomach to keep you still as your moans turn into cries, your body trembling beneath him.
“Cum for me,” he murmurs against your skin. “Let me feel it.”
And you do. The pleasure slams into you all at once, stealing the breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping as your body locks up, your thighs trembling around his head. Heeseung doesn’t stop, he keeps licking, keeps sucking, drawing every last drop of pleasure from you as you fall apart beneath him.
Your body shudders, aftershocks rippling through you, and Heeseung finally slows, his touch turning soft, reverent, as he presses one last lingering kiss to your sensitive clit before pulling back.
He looks up at you then, his lips glistening, his pupils blown wide, his breath ragged. And then he smirks, his voice low and utterly wrecked.
“Told you I’d make you feel good.”
You smile softly, but before you can even reach for him, he moves, fast, precise. A startled gasp escapes your lips as he manhandles you, lifting you effortlessly off the couch, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips, his hands gripping your thighs with a possessiveness that sends a shiver through your entire body. His hold on you is strong, unwavering, his fingertips pressing into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.
You cling to him, your arms locking around his shoulders as he carries you with ease, moving through the dimly lit apartment. Your lips find his neck, tasting the warmth of his skin, inhaling his scent. The closeness, the heat between your bodies, makes you whimper softly against his throat.
And Heeseung groans. A low, deep sound that rumbles in his chest as he grips you tighter, his pace quickening like he’s growing just as desperate as you are.
Because this isn’t just anyone. This is Heeseung.
The boy who has been stitched into your life for years, who has laughed with you, argued with you, known you in ways no one else has. This is the person you love most in the world—and you’re finally having him like this for the first time. The thought makes you cling to him even harder, your lips trailing messily along his jaw, your fingers gripping at his shoulders, needing more, needing all of him.
When Heeseung reaches your bedroom, he doesn’t hesitate. He kneels onto the bed with you still wrapped around him, letting your back sink into the soft mattress as he gently lays you down, his body hovering over yours.
His breath is heavy, his chest rising and falling as he looks down at you, his gaze deep, searching. His Bambi-like eyes, so wide, so full of something tender, something real, hold you in place more than his body ever could.
His hands, still gripping your thighs, slowly loosen, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your skin. Like he’s memorizing you. Like he’s realizing, holy shit, this is happening.
And then, without breaking eye contact, he reaches for his belt. The soft sound of the buckle unfastening fills the space between you, followed by the quiet rustle of fabric as he pushes his pants down, revealing his bare skin, the strong lines of his toned body, every inch of him that you’ve never seen before but already crave more than anything.
You exhale sharply, your eyes dragging over him, admiring the way the soft glow of your bedroom light casts shadows over his sculpted stomach, the definition in his arms, the sharp cut of his hips. He’s breathtaking. And every second that passes, the ache inside you grows, the need twisting tighter and tighter.
You swallow hard, your voice soft but certain when you finally whisper, “I didn’t know I needed you this much until now.”
Heeseung stills. For a moment, his breath catches, his fingers twitching where they rest against your skin. The flush that spreads across his cheeks, blooming down his neck, his lips part slightly, his eyes flickering between yours, something breaking, something giving way inside him.
Then he looks down at you again. And this time, his gaze is molten. Dark, intense, filled with something raw and unfiltered as he leans down, his lips hovering just above yours.
“I think,” he whispers, his voice low, breathless, “I’ve always needed you like this.”
And then he kisses you. Deep, slow, pouring everything into it, every ounce of longing, every unsaid word, every moment spent waiting for this. His hands roam, tracing the curves of your body, feeling, memorizing.
The moment you feel him, thick and hard against your aching core, you let out a soft, needy moan against his lips. Heeseung still has his underwear on, but the heat of him, the way his hips press down, grinding slowly against you, makes your body arch instinctively, chasing the friction.
Heeseung groans into the kiss, deep and guttural, the sound vibrating against your lips. His teeth catch your lower lip, tugging gently, before he soothes the sting with a slow, lingering kiss.
Your hands wander, trailing down his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the firm ridges of his toned stomach, lower, until your fingers reach the waistband of his underwear.
Your breathing is ragged, your body thrumming with anticipation as you whisper, “Please, take this off.”
Heeseung curses under his breath, his body tensing above you. He doesn’t want to tease you, doesn’t want to drag this out. He wants you just as much, he needs you just as badly. Without hesitation, he pushes his underwear down, freeing himself completely. The air between you thickens, the weight of the moment settling in as his bare body hovers over yours, his skin flushed, his muscles taut with restraint.
You lean in, hands splaying across his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath. Your fingers trace every inch of him, his collarbones, the defined lines of his stomach, the dip of his lower abdomen, moving lower. But before you can go further, Heeseung catches your wrist. His grip is firm but gentle, his breathing heavy, his eyes dark and searching as he looks at you.
“Y/N,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “I need to ask you…” He swallows hard, his thumb brushing slow circles against your wrist, like he’s grounding himself in your touch. “Are you totally sure?”
Your chest tightens at the rawness in his voice. His expression—so open, so vulnerable—makes your heart clench.
“Because once this happens,” he continues, his forehead nearly touching yours, “I’m not ever letting you go.”
And there it is. The unspoken truth, finally laid bare between you. This isn’t just a night of pleasure. This isn’t just a long-overdue release. This is everything.
Your lips part, your throat tightening with emotion, and for a second, you can only stare at him, overwhelmed by how much he means to you, how deeply you feel this. Then you whisper, with more certainty than you’ve ever had about anything in your life:
“I’ve never been so sure about something before.”
The moment the words leave your lips, something shifts in Heeseung. His entire body tenses for a beat, then he exhales shakily, like he’s been holding his breath this whole time, like he’s just now letting himself believe this is real.
And then he kisses you. It’s not slow. It’s not careful. It’s hungry, possessive, filled with all the pent-up emotions neither of you ever dared to voice until now.
His hands slide up your arms, capturing your wrists, pinning them above your head as he presses you deeper into the mattress. His body presses against yours, skin to skin, warmth melting into warmth.
And then you feel it, the tip of his cock, hot and heavy, pressing against your entrance, so achingly close. Heeseung breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his breath uneven. He looks down between you, his jaw clenched, his grip tightening just slightly on your wrists as if this is the moment he’s been waiting for all his life.
His voice is nothing but a hushed rasp when he says: “Tell me if it hurts.”
Heeseung lets go of your wrists, his hands sliding down your body with a deliberate slowness, like he’s savoring the feeling of your skin beneath his palms. His fingers find your hips, gripping them gently before one hand moves lower, wrapping around the base of his cock.
He watches you carefully, his gaze dark, hungry, yet filled with something soft, something almost reverent, as he presses the tip against your entrance. He doesn’t push in just yet. Instead, he rolls his hips slightly, dragging himself against your slick folds, teasing, his length brushing against your clit in slow, deliberate strokes. The sensation sends a shiver through you, a breathless whimper escaping your lips as your fingers dig into his biceps, your body tensing in anticipation.
Heeseung groans, his grip tightening around himself as he watches the way your body reacts to him. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice wrecked. “You’re so wet… so fucking perfect for me.”
Your nails sink deeper into his skin as he finally begins to press inside, the stretch slow and steady, filling you inch by inch. The feeling is overwhelming, him, thick and hot, splitting you open so exquisitely that all you can do is moan softly against his shoulder, your body trembling beneath him.
Heeseung curses under his breath, his forehead dropping to the crook of your neck as he stills, letting you adjust. His hands slide up your sides, fingers grazing over your ribs, your waist, gripping you firmly like he’s afraid to let go.
“You feel so good,” he rasps, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “So fucking good, baby.”
His words send another rush of heat straight through your core, and you can’t help the way your hips shift slightly, taking him even deeper. Heeseung groans at the feeling, his lips parting against your skin.
He lifts his head, searching your face, his eyes filled with both need and restraint. “Is this okay?” he murmurs, his thumb brushing softly over your hip. “Can I move?”
You nod quickly, breathless, your fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms, his shoulders, needing him closer. “Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”
Heeseung exhales sharply, his grip tightening on your hips as he begins to move, rolling his hips in slow, deep thrusts. Your breath stutters, a moan slipping from your lips, and Heeseung loses it.
His movements quicken, his hips snapping against yours, his grip turning bruising as he holds you in place, thrusting deeper, harder. His breath is ragged, his chest heaving, and with every stroke, he sinks further into you, like he’s trying to become a part of you.
“Fuck, baby,” he growls, his voice rough against your skin. “You’re taking me so fucking well. So perfect for me.”
His lips find your jawline, tracing a path down your neck, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin before he sucks, leaving a mark, claiming you in every way possible. Your moans grow louder, your body arching against him, and Heeseung groans, loving the way you respond to him, the way you cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded.
His lips travel lower, over your collarbone, down to the valley between your breasts. He kisses, licks, nips, worshiping every inch of you as he keeps thrusting into you, each movement deep and unrelenting.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice wrecked, possessive. “Only mine.”
His grip on your hips tightens as he pounds into you, his pace growing desperate, wild, his body completely losing control in you. And all the while, he praises you. “Tighter than I ever imagined.” Thrust “So fucking beautiful.” Kiss “You feel like heaven, baby.” Groan.
His words, his touch, his everything push you closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling beneath him as the pleasure coils tightly inside you, ready to snap. And Heeseung feels it. He knows you’re close. And he’s not stopping until he sends you over the edge.
Your body trembles beneath him, pleasure curling tight inside you, hot and overwhelming. Your fingers cling desperately to his skin, your legs wrapped around his waist, trying to ground yourself against the way he moves, deep, unrelenting, perfect.
“Heeseung—” Your voice is breathless, wrecked. Your nails dig into his back as another wave of pleasure crashes over you. “God, you feel so good.”
Heeseung groans at your words, his hips stuttering for just a second before he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he rasps, voice dripping with praise, with something darker, something possessive.
And that’s when you snap. The coil inside you tightens dangerously, winding so tight you know you’re seconds from breaking. But you don’t want to break, not yet.
So, with the last shred of control you have left, you grab Heeseung by the side of his neck, your fingers tangling in the damp strands of his hair, holding him in place. “Let me ride you,” you plead, your voice thick with desperation. “Please.”
Heeseung growls. A deep, guttural sound that sends a shiver through your entire body. His fingers dig into your hips, his thrusts faltering for a moment as your request sinks in. Then, he moves. In one smooth motion, Heeseung shifts, rolling over and pulling you with him. The world tilts, and suddenly, you’re on top, straddling him, his cock still buried deep inside you.
A sharp, choked moan leaves your lips as you feel him fully, the angle changing, the sensation making your entire body tremble.
“Fuck,” Heeseung groans beneath you, his hands flying to your waist, holding you steady as his eyes drag over your body, your heaving chest, the flush painting your skin, the way you’re clenching around him, barely able to contain yourself.
His pupils are blown wide, his lips parted, his entire expression wrecked with need. “You look so fucking beautiful like this,” he murmurs, his voice thick, reverent.
His hands move, Heeseung slides them up your torso, fingers splaying across your ribs before catching your breasts in both hands, squeezing, worshiping. His thumbs flick over your nipples, and the sensation sends another jolt of pleasure straight through you, making you whimper.
“You’re so delicious,” he groans, his thumbs circling your hardened peaks, his hips rolling up slightly into you, making you gasp.
Your head tilts back, your hands bracing against his chest, your body arching into his touch. The heat between you is unbearable, your body already on the edge, but you refuse to let this end too soon.
You start to move, slowly at first, rolling your hips in a deliberate, teasing rhythm, feeling every inch of him stretch and fill you completely. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, pleasure pooling deep in your stomach as you watch Heeseung’s reaction.
Heeseung groans, his grip on your thighs tightening, fingers digging into your flesh like he’s trying to ground himself, trying not to lose control too soon. His head tilts back for a moment, his chest rising and falling with deep, uneven breaths as he tries to contain himself.
“Fuck,” he grits out, his jaw clenching as his eyes squeeze shut, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. His hands flex on your thighs, squeezing, like he’s trying to hold back, like the feeling of you around him is too much.
But then he opens his eyes, and the second his gaze locks onto you, dark and hooded with raw, unfiltered hunger, your whole body burns. His pupils are blown wide, his lips parted, sweat glistening along his collarbones as he watches you move above him, taking him so perfectly, so effortlessly.
“You’re fucking unreal,” he groans, his voice rough, biting down his lips, barely above a whisper. “Just like that, baby. You feel so fucking good.”
His words send a jolt of pleasure through you, making you clench tighter around him. Heeseung feels it, and his breath hitches, his fingers twitching against your skin.
One of his hands moves from your thigh, sliding up your body, tracing along your stomach, your ribs, before finding the back of your neck. He grips you there, firm but gentle, and pulls you down until your foreheads almost touch, your breath mingling with his.
His other hand stays on your thigh, stroking, soothing, before he snaps. A deep growl rumbles in his chest, and he picks up the pace, his hips rolling up to meet yours, his hands guiding your movements. The pleasure intensifies, your thighs burning with the effort, but Heeseung doesn’t let you slow down.
His hands slide to your hips, gripping hard, his fingers pressing into your flesh as he takes control. And then he slams into you. A sharp, broken moan escapes your lips as he thrusts up, driving deeper, harder, filling you so completely that you swear you might lose your mind.
“That’s it,” he groans, his grip unrelenting as he pounds into you, chasing the feeling of you wrapped so perfectly around him. “Take it, baby. Take all of me.”
His voice, deep, rough, dripping with praise, sends you spiraling, pleasure building, your body trembling under his relentless pace. His mouth finds your jaw, then your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your skin between ragged breaths. His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt of your sweat, and then his teeth graze your pulse point, his lips closing around it as he sucks.
Your fingers claw at his shoulders, your body arching against his, your moans coming faster, higher, completely overwhelmed by the way he’s taking you.
Heeseung doesn’t slow down. His thrusts stay deep, hard, relentless, his grip unyielding as he drives into you, chasing the pleasure building between you both. His hands remain at the back of your neck, keeping you close, keeping you exactly where he wants you, his breath hot against your skin.
He groans, voice wrecked, rough. “Fuck—baby, you feel so good. So fucking perfect.”
His words send another wave of pleasure crashing through you, making your thighs tighten around his hips. You’re close, you can feel yourself unraveling, your body tightening as the coil inside you threatens to snap. And Heeseung knows. He feels it.
His fingers tighten against your skin, his movements growing desperate, erratic, as his own release begins creeping up on him. His forehead presses against yours, his breath uneven, his voice nothing but a strained rasp.
“Cum for me again, baby,” he pleads, his words like fire against your skin. “Let it go.”
The command, the way his voice drips with authority and adoration, is what finally undoes you. A sharp, broken moan rips from your throat as your body tenses, pleasure surging through you like wildfire. Your walls clench around him, pulsing, milking him, and Heeseung loses it.
A deep, guttural groan escapes his lips as he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself deep, his entire body shuddering as he lets go, his release spilling into you. The pleasure crashes over both of you at once, your moans mixing together, filling the room, raw and unrestrained.
And then, stillness.
Your body, still trembling, collapses against his chest, your forehead pressing into the slick heat of his skin. Your breaths are ragged, uneven, matching his as he tries to catch his pace, his chest rising and falling beneath you.
Neither of you speak for a long moment, the silence filled only with the sounds of your slowing breaths, your racing heartbeats.
Heeseung moves his hands, still firm but now gentle, slide down to your lower back, his fingers tracing lazy, soothing circles against your damp skin. His touch is tender, reverent, like he’s memorizing you all over again, like he can’t believe this moment is real.
His lips brush against your hair, barely a whisper of a kiss, before he exhales shakily. And then, he murmurs—soft, breathless, like a vow.
“I’m never letting you go.”
Your chest tightens at the raw emotion in his voice. His arms wrap tighter around you, holding you impossibly close, his hands never stopping their slow caresses against your back. His lips press against the top of your head, again and again, each kiss softer than the last.
“Never,” he whispers. “Never, never, never…”
His words sink into your skin, into your bones, into you. And as you melt further into his embrace, letting the warmth of him envelop you completely, you realize: You never want him to let go.
You slowly lift your head, your breath still uneven, your body still thrumming with the remnants of pleasure.
You meet his eyes, his Bambi-like, doe eyes, wide and full of something so deep, so undeniable, it makes your chest tighten. They glimmer under the dim light of your bedroom, reflecting every unspoken word, every silent confession hanging thick in the space between you.
You let out a breathy, almost disbelieving smile, your gaze sweeping over his face, his flushed cheeks, his damp hair clinging to his forehead, the soft sheen of sweat on his skin. He looks wrecked. He looks perfect.
And he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.
Heeseung mirrors your smile, soft and hazy, his expression filled with something tender, something so Heeseung that it makes warmth flood your entire body. His hands find your face, large and warm, his knuckles grazing your cheeks in slow, delicate strokes, like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you.
You lean into his touch, nuzzling against his palm, and the way he exhales, soft, shaky, like he’s feeling everything too, sends a shiver down your spine.
Then, barely above a whisper, you say, “I…”
And suddenly, you stop yourself.
Because the weight of what you were about to say hits you all at once.
Your lips part slightly, your throat tightening. The words are right there, sitting heavy on your tongue, aching to spill out. But there’s fear too, fear of what this means, fear of how much this changes everything.
Heeseung notices. His fingers pause against your cheek, his brows twitching just slightly, his gaze flickering between your eyes like he’s searching, trying to read you.
But then, he smiles. Soft, knowing, patient. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his touch featherlight, his voice a quiet murmur in the space between you.
“I know,” he whispers.
Your breath catches. Because you believe him.
Heeseung has always known you better than anyone, always understood you in ways that no one else could. And right now, in this moment, with the way he’s holding you, looking at you, you realize you don’t have to say it.
Because he already knows.
Heeseung leans in, his nose brushing against yours, his lips hovering just above yours, waiting, giving you the choice. And when you press your lips to his in the softest, most deliberate kiss, you’re telling him everything you couldn’t say in words.
Heeseung sighs into the kiss, his hands sliding down your back, pulling you closer, pressing you against his warmth, his heartbeat steady beneath your palm.
And when you finally pull away, when you rest your forehead against his and breathe him in, you realize: You were never afraid of loving Heeseung.
You were afraid of admitting that you always have.
But now, with his arms around you, his lips brushing against your temple, his heartbeat syncing with yours, you don’t have to be afraid anymore.
Because he’s never letting you go.
And neither are you.
That’s why he stays at your house the next day. And the day after that. And for the few days that follow, until time becomes a blur and neither of you think to question it.
Because how could he leave, how could either of you go back to a world where you weren’t tangled up in each other like this?
The first morning, you wake up wrapped in Heeseung’s arms, your head tucked against his chest, his fingers absentmindedly tracing soft, lazy circles against your back. Neither of you move for a long time. Neither of you want to.
His lips press into your hair, a silent good morning, and you melt into him because it feels natural, because this is Heeseung, your best friend, the boy who has always been a constant, and yet, now, everything is different.
And it’s better. He doesn’t leave. You don’t ask him to.
Instead, you spend the morning like you have a thousand times before: lounging on the couch, talking about nothing, watching movies you’ve seen a hundred times. Except now, there’s a new rhythm, an unspoken understanding.
His fingers brush yours absentmindedly. His arm finds its way around your waist without hesitation. His lips press against your temple between conversations like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Because maybe, it is.
The second night, he kisses you in the kitchen while you’re making dinner, stealing a taste of the sauce on your lips, grinning when you roll your eyes. The third night, you fall asleep with your fingers intertwined, his breath warm against your neck, his hand resting over your heart like he’s afraid you might slip away in the night. By the fourth day, he’s using your shampoo, leaving his clothes in your drawers, stealing your socks because he swears they’re more comfortable than his own.
By the fifth, you don’t even realize he never went home. Because this is home now. Not the walls. Not the bed. But this. Him. You. Together.
One night, a week after everything changed, you find yourselves in your living room, curled up against each other, laughter spilling into the quiet air.
It feels surreal, how easy this is, how natural. And yet, when you look at him, really look at him, you realize this was never sudden at all. This wasn’t a moment. This was a lifetime in the making.
It was in the late-night phone calls when you both should’ve been asleep. It was in the way he always kept your favorite snacks in his kitchen without thinking. It was in the stolen glances, the inside jokes, the nights spent shoulder to shoulder, pretending you didn’t feel the weight of something more. It was in every single thing before this.
And now that the truth is out in the open, now that you know, you don’t ever want to live in a world where you don’t wake up next to Heeseung. And it doesn’t feel real.
Not because you don’t want it to be—but because it still catches you off guard. The quiet way Heeseung reaches for your hand without thinking. The way his presence in your space isn’t something fleeting, but something constant. Something permanent.
It’s been two weeks since everything changed, and somehow, the world didn’t shift to match it. The sun still rises the same way. Your friends still send memes in the group chat. Life moves on, but now, there’s this.
This is Heeseung pressing a sleepy kiss to your shoulder when he wakes up before you. This is him playing with your fingers absentmindedly when you’re watching something together. This is the way he still teases you the same, still makes fun of you the same, but now he kisses you after like he can’t help it.
Yunjin is the only one who knows.
She had her suspicions, she always had her suspicions, but it became painfully obvious the moment you showed up at her place wearing a hoodie that was at least two sizes too big, one she distinctly remembered seeing Heeseung wear last week.
Which is why, at her birthday party, there’s this lingering tension in the air. It’s subtle, the way you and Heeseung hesitate just slightly when you’re around the others, the way you don’t know if you’re supposed to act like you always have or like something’s changed.
Because something has changed. But the world doesn’t know yet.
You and Heeseung sit at the dining table, pretending everything is normal, pretending that you’re not constantly aware of the warmth of his body next to yours, the way his knee brushes yours every time he shifts.
And then, under the table, he takes your hand. It’s subtle, careful, the warmth of his palm slipping against yours, his fingers threading through yours in a way that makes your stomach flip. Heeseung doesn’t look at you, doesn’t acknowledge it, just holds your hand beneath the table, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Finally,” Sunghoon mutters, watching Heeseung with a knowing smirk.
Heeseung freezes. You both turn to see Sunghoon leaning against the chair next to him, arms crossed, eyes flickering down to where your hands are intertwined beneath the table.
“I was wondering when you were gonna stop being a coward,” Sunghoon teases, nudging Heeseung’s foot under the table. “Took you long enough, man.”
Heeseung groans, dropping his head back against the chair. “Jesus, Sunghoon.”
Sunghoon just grins, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Nah, I’m happy for you guys. But also, I knew you two had something going on.” He points a lazy finger at you. “Your whole ‘we’re just friends’ thing was so fake.”
The table erupts in laughter, and you sigh, shaking your head. But then, Heeseung squeezes your hand, and when you glance at him, he’s already looking at you. Soft. Quiet. Certain. And you realize, this feels right. Being here. Being together. Being this.
The night winds down. People leave. And you end up in Heeseung’s car, the windows slightly fogged from the cold air outside. The soft strum of Waiting Room fills the quiet, the melancholic chords settling deep into your chest.
You watch Heeseung, his hands gripping the wheel loosely, his face relaxed, bathed in the glow of the streetlights.
“Wanna go to McDonald’s?”
You blink. “What?”
Heeseung smirks, eyes flickering to you before turning back to the road. “You heard me.”
A beat of silence. You laugh. “Yeah. I do.”
You order fries and ice cream and talk about the dumbest things. about how Niki's new girlfriend is the worst, about how Jay got too drunk, about how Jake still doesn’t know how to properly pour a drink.
But somewhere between the laughter, somewhere between the way Heeseung licks salt off his fingers and tosses fries into your mouth, somewhere between the way you lean against his shoulder in the drive-thru line.
Heeseung sighs. And then—
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”
You still. Your fingers tighten slightly around your drink, your breath catching at the quiet, vulnerable way he says it. And when you turn to look at him, he’s already looking at you, soft, so soft, his gaze deep, searching.
Your chest tightens. “Heeseung…”
He smiles, a little shy, a little unsure. Then, he reaches out, sliding his fingers over yours, his thumb brushing your knuckles.
“I just—” He swallows, then exhales. “I think I’ve loved you this whole time.”
Your breath catches. And in that moment, in the soft hum of the radio, in the glow of the streetlights, in the taste of salt and ice cream and the warmth of Heeseung’s fingers against yours, you know.
“I thought maybe it would go away,” he continues, his lips quirking slightly, like he’s laughing at himself. “Like—it’s just Y/N, right? My best friend.”
You hold your breath, watching him, the streetlights casting soft shadows across his face, making his eyes look even softer, warmer.
“But then,” Heeseung shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Every time I thought I had it under control, you’d do something stupid, like wear my hoodie and refuse to give it back, or make me watch Shrek 2 for the tenth time, or grab my hand in a crowded room like it was nothing.” He swallows, his voice dropping to something even softer. “And I’d realize—I was never going to stop feeling this way.”
Your chest tightens. Because it’s always been like this, hasn’t it? The quiet kind of love. The kind that slips into the cracks of everyday moments, unnoticed until one day, it’s too big to ignore.
You feel the words sitting heavy in your throat, pressing against your ribs, and when you finally speak, your voice is barely a whisper.
“Heeseung.” He looks at you, his brows lifting slightly, like he’s bracing himself. You take a slow breath, steadying yourself, then squeeze his hand. “I think I’ve loved you this whole time, too.”
The tension in his shoulders dissolves instantly. His lips part, his eyes searching yours like he wants to make sure he really heard you right.
And then, he smiles. Not the teasing kind, not the smirk he throws at you when he’s making fun of you, but something real. Something deep. The kind of smile that says, I know. I knew before you even said it.
You shift closer, your forehead brushing against his, the warmth of his breath mixing with yours. “I don’t know why it took me so long to realize it,” you murmur. “But I do now.”
Heeseung hums, tilting his head slightly. “You sure?”
You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Good.” He squeezes your hand, his nose nudging against yours. “Because I would’ve had to spend another three years waiting for you to catch up, and I don’t think I could survive that.”
You groan, shoving his shoulder lightly, and he chuckles, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you in, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head.
And just like that, it’s easy again. The way you tease each other, the way you fit against him, the way you fall back into the rhythm of your friendship except now there’s no pretending.
Now it’s all out in the open. And it’s better.
As Heeseung drives you home, the song still playing softly in the background, your mind drifts back. To three years ago. To that stupid Halloween party where you met, you in your skeleton costume, him in that ridiculous Ninja Turtle onesie.
To the late nights spent working on that Shrek project, arguing about PowerPoint transitions like it was life or death, only to laugh until your sides hurt. To the wedding where he spun you around on the dance floor, looking at you like he already knew, like he was just waiting for you to catch up. To every car ride, every inside joke, every time you almost realized what he meant to you.
Your fingers tighten around his, and Heeseung glances at you, his eyes flickering between you and the road.
“What?” he asks, a small smile tugging at his lips.
You shake your head, but you’re smiling too. “Nothing.”
Because you understand now. Because Waiting Room plays softly in the background, and the lyrics echo in your chest—know it’s for the better.
You do. You know now that keeping Heeseung in your life like this, is the best thing you’ll ever do.
And when Heeseung looks at you, his grip on your hand tightening like he knows too, you realize.
For you, it was worth waiting.
my masterlist 🧦 ☆★ // previous fic
author's note: hey guys! this is my first long fic about heeseung, the first one i've ever written, and i hope you liked it! i know 21k+ words is a lot, but i had so much fun writing it. thank you for reading! <3
