Wrong Number, Right Person.
Pairing: Ni-ki x Reader (Main), Heeseung x Reader (Main)
Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic, Fluff
Tropes: Neglectful Boyfriend, Best Friend to Lovers, Sick Fic (Cramps/Period Comfort)
Warnings: Emotional neglect, lying, minor angst.
One year with Ni-ki has yielded nothing but cold shoulders and empty promises. Left alone in bed, crying from agonizing period cramps, you finally reach out to his best friend, Heeseung, just looking for a distraction. But when a casual text reveals that Ni-ki lied about coming home to you, your heart breaks completely. You expect to spend the night alone in the dark—until a knock on your door reveals Heeseung standing under the porch light, arms full of snacks, a heating pad, and the exact warmth your boyfriend refused to give.
Ni-ki [08:14 PM]: Can’t come over tonight. Out with the guys.
You stare at the screen, a hot water bottle pressed desperately against your stomach as another wave of cramps hits you. One year. You’d been together for a whole year, and it still felt like you were begging for scraps of his time. No 'are you feeling okay?', no 'do you need me to bring you anything?'. Just a cold, dead end.
Tears prick your eyes, a mix of hormonal exhaustion and pure, heavy loneliness. You just need someone to talk to. Someone to distract you from the ache in your abdomen and the hollow feeling in your chest.
Your fingers hover over your contacts. You can't text Ni-ki again—you refuse to beg. Instead, you tap on a name you probably shouldn't.
You :[08:22 PM]: Hey... sorry to bother you. Are you busy?
You don't expect a fast reply. He's Ni-ki's best friend; they're probably together. But barely a minute passes before your phone buzzes.
Heeseung [08:23 PM]: Never a bother. Just finishing up some gaming. What’s up? You okay?
Just seeing those two words—You okay?—makes a tear finally slip down your cheek. It’s so simple. So effortless. Why was it so hard for Ni-ki to ask that?
You: [08:25 PM]: Not really. Just having a really bad night. Cramps are killing me and I'm just... feeling kind of down.
Heeseung [08:26 PM]: Ah, the worst. Hang on, did Ni-ki not bring you the heating pad? He told me earlier you weren't feeling well.
Your breath hitches. Ni-ki knew. He knew you were hurting, and he still chose to go out.
You: [08:28 PM]: He’s out with you guys, isn’t he?
There’s a long pause. The three dots appear, disappear, and then reappear.
Heeseung [08:31 PM]: No. He said he was going home early to check on you. He's not here.
You : [08:32 PM]: Oh. I see.
You lock your phone and press it face down on the mattress. The physical ache in your abdomen is nothing compared to the sudden, hollow drop in your chest. He lied. He knew you were miserable, used you as an excuse to leave his friends, and then just... went somewhere else.
You pull your knees tighter to your chest, letting the hot tears finally spill over, blurring the dim outlines of your bedroom. A year of your life, and you were completely invisible to him.
Fifteen minutes pass in a miserable haze of pain and quiet sobbing. You’re so trapped in your own head that the soft, rhythmic knocking at your front door almost doesn't register.
You frown, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your oversized sweater. Ni-ki wouldn't knock—he has a key. Forcing yourself upright, you fight through a sharp wave of cramps and drag your feet down the hallway. When you swing the door open, you lock eyes with the last person you expected to see.
Heeseung is standing under the porch light, still wearing his black leather jacket, looking a little breathless. In one hand, he’s holding a convenience store plastic bag; in the other, a brand-new box containing an electric heating pad.
"Heeseung?" your voice cracks, raw and completely betraying how much you’ve been crying.
His eyes soften instantly, a look of pure, protective worry crossing his face. He takes a step inside, closing the door behind him to shut out the chilly night air.
"Hey," he says softly, his voice low and soothing. "I called Ni-ki three times. He didn't answer. I knew you were alone, and I... I couldn't just sit at home knowing you were hurting."
He holds up the bag, giving you a small, comforting smile. "I brought the heavy-duty heating pad. The plug-in kind, so you don't have to keep microwaving that old water bottle. And I guessed on the snacks, but I got the sweet stuff and the salty stuff just in case."
The sheer effortlessness of his kindness catches in your throat. You look from the bag up to his warm, sincere eyes, and before you can stop yourself, a fresh sob escapes your lips.
Heeseung doesn't hesitate. He sets the bags on the entryway table and steps forward, wrapping his arms securely around you. He smells like the cool night air and faint cologne—a safe, steady anchor.
"I've got you," he murmurs, gently resting a hand on the back of your head, pulling you close. "You're okay. Let's get you taken care of, alright?"
You nod slightly against his chest, gently breaking the hug. The sudden absence of his warmth leaves you feeling a bit exposed, but you give him a small, grateful smile before turning toward the living room.
Heeseung follows closely behind, the soft rustle of the plastic convenience store bag trailing after you. Even in your cramped, dimly lit apartment, his presence feels grounding. He doesn't awkward-out or look around uncomfortably; his focus is entirely on you.
"Sit, sit," he insists gently, gesturing to the couch the moment you reach it.
You sink into the cushions with a quiet sigh, pulling your knees back up to your chest to guard against another impending wave of cramps. Heeseung immediately drops to one knee on the carpet in front of the coffee table, unboxing the electric heating pad with practiced efficiency.
"Where’s the nearest outlet?" he asks, looking up at you. The living room lamp catches the soft lines of his face, making him look incredibly gentle. "I want to make sure the cord reaches the couch comfortably so you don't have to stretch."
You point to the wall just behind the sofa. He nods, plugging it in and waiting a few seconds for it to warm up before handing the plush fabric pad over to you.
"Here. Put it right where it hurts."
As you take it and press the soothing heat against your abdomen, Heeseung turns his attention to the plastic bag. He begins setting your favorite snacks on the coffee table one by one, like a quiet offering. He even bought a bottle of water, twisting the cap off to loosen it before placing it within your reach.
"Ni-ki is an idiot," Heeseung says softly, his voice dropping an octave as he stares at the snacks. It’s the first time he’s openly criticized his best friend to you, and the weight of it hangs heavy in the quiet room. He looks up, meeting your gaze with total sincerity. "You shouldn't have to ask for this. You shouldn't have to be alone right now."
"Right he's an idiot he doesn't even care about me, I don't know, but Does he knows he has a girlfriend, I don't think he knows, he's probably cheating right behind my back.."
Your voice cracks on the last word, the heavy suspicion that’s been brewing in the back of your mind for months finally slipping out into the open. It feels dangerous to say out loud, especially to Ni-ki's best friend, but the exhaustion and pain have stripped away all your defenses.
Heeseung freezes. The hand he had extended toward the snack bags drops onto his knee.
For a long moment, the only sound in the living room is the low hum of the refrigerator and the quiet, heavy rhythm of your breathing. Heeseung looks down at the floor, his jaw tightening so hard you can see the muscle flex. The betrayal stings twice as bad because Heeseung is stuck in the middle—caught between his loyalty to a childhood friend and the absolute wreckage standing right in front of him.
"Hey," Heeseung says softly, his voice dropping to a low, commanding whisper that instantly pulls your gaze back to him.
He moves from the floor, sliding onto the cushion right next to you. He doesn't cross the boundary of touching you again, but he sits close enough that you can feel the steady radiation of his warmth. He looks directly into your tear-stained eyes, his expression dead serious.
"Don't do that to yourself," he says, his tone fiercely protective. "Don't sit here and think you're not enough to keep someone's attention. If he’s doing something stupid—if he's out there messing up the best thing he’s ever had—that is entirely on him. It has nothing to do with your worth."
He lets out a harsh, frustrated breath, looking away for a split second before locking eyes with you again.
"I don't know where his head is at lately," Heeseung confesses, his voice laced with a raw honesty that makes your heart skip a beat. "But I know if you were mine? I wouldn't be anywhere else but right here. I wouldn't give you a single reason to doubt me."
"Well I don't know what to do heeseung..I guess it's time for this moment that I've been wanting to do since ni-ki started acting stupid."
The words hang heavy in the quiet space between you, charged with the sudden shift in the room. Heeseung doesn't move, his eyes tracking the exhaustion etched into your face, but you can see the subtle hitch in his breathing. He knows exactly what you mean. The breaking point you’ve been pushing away for months has finally arrived.
You reach for your phone on the coffee table, your fingers trembling slightly, but your grip is firm. You unlock it, open the chat that has brought you nothing but silence and cold excuses, and stare at Ni-ki’s name.
Heeseung watches you, completely still. He doesn't stop you, nor does he urge you on. He just stays right there beside you, a silent, steady anchor as you finally claim your own peace.
With a final, shaky breath, you type out the words you should have sent weeks ago.
To: Ni-ki [08:54 PM]: We're done, Ni-ki. Don't bother coming by.
You hit send. Before your mind can second-guess the decision, you press down on his contact name, hit block, and toss the phone face-down onto the couch cushion beside you. It’s over. A whole year, ended in a single sentence.
The moment the phone hits the fabric, a strange mixture of relief and heavy grief washes over you, and your shoulders slump.
Heeseung lets out the breath he’d been holding. Slowly, deliberately, he reaches out and places his hand over yours, his large, warm palm completely covering your cold fingers. He gives your hand a gentle, grounding squeeze.
"You're brave," he murmurs, his voice incredibly soft, filled with a deep respect that makes your chest ache in a completely different way. "I know that wasn't easy."
You look up at him through a fresh blur of tears, your voice barely a whisper. "What do I do now?"
Heeseung’s thumb gently brushes against the back of your hand, a slow, comforting rhythm. A small, tender smile touches the corners of his lips, trying to ease the heaviness in your chest.
"Now," he says softly, his dark eyes holding yours with total devotion, "you let me take care of you. Eat some snacks, let the heating pad do its job, and just breathe. You don't have to worry about him ever again."
You let out a long, shuddering sigh, the heavy weight that’s been pressing down on your chest for the last year finally starting to lift, leaving a dull, exhausting ache in its place.
"I know..." you whisper, your voice trailing off into the quiet room.
You look down at where his hand is covering yours. The contrast is almost overwhelming—Ni-ki’s touch had felt so cold and fleeting lately, like he was always looking for an excuse to pull away. But Heeseung’s hand is steady, warm, and completely there, anchoring you to the present moment.
Heeseung notices your gaze and shifts slightly, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles one more time before gently pulling his hand back, giving you a bit of space so you don't feel crowded. He reaches over to the coffee table and grabs the bag of sweets you like, tearing it open with a soft rustle.
"Here," he says, offering the bag to you with a soft, encouraging tilt of his head. "Doctor’s orders. You need the sugar, and honestly, you deserve a break from thinking for at least the rest of the night."
You take a small piece, the sweet taste a welcome distraction from the bitter reality of the breakup. As the electric heating pad finally hits its peak temperature, sending a deep, soothing warmth through your aching stomach, you lean back into the couch cushions. For the first time in months, you don’t feel like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Heeseung grabs the TV remote, turning it on and flipping through a streaming menu to find something light and mindless to put on in the background.
"Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?" he asks quietly, keeping his eyes on the screen to give you a moment of privacy as you wipe away the last of your tears. "I can crash on the armchair, or I can head out whenever you want. Whatever makes you feel most comfortable."
Heeseung pauses, the remote still held loosely in his hand as he turns his head to look at you. The soft, shifting light from the TV screen reflects in his eyes, highlighting just how deeply your words hit him.
He sets the remote down on the cushion between you, his entire posture softening. A gentle, genuine smile spreads across his face—the kind of look that makes you feel completely safe, completely seen.
"You never have to thank me for this," he says, his voice dropping into a low, quiet register that feels incredibly intimate in the stillness of the room. "Seriously. I mean what I said. You deserve to be taken care of, especially when you're hurting."
He shifts slightly, leaning his elbow on the back of the couch so he can face you fully, giving you his undivided attention.
"I'm just glad I checked my phone when I did," he adds softly, his eyes searching yours with a warmth that makes the lingering chill of the breakup melt away. "Just rest now, okay? I'm not going anywhere."
You nod, a wave of pure exhaustion finally catching up to you. With the physical relief of the heating pad and the emotional weight of Ni-ki finally lifted from your shoulders, your eyelids feel incredibly heavy.
Seeing your nod, Heeseung’s smile grows even softer. He reaches over and gently pulls the plush blanket from the back of the sofa, shaking it out before draping it carefully over your shoulders, tucking you in without breaking your comfortable boundary.
"Close your eyes," he murmurs, his voice a soothing, low rumble in the dim room. "I'll be right here."
You let your head sink back into the cushions, letting the quiet audio of the TV and the steady, comforting presence of Heeseung lull you to sleep. For the first time in a year, you don't feel lonely.
The harsh, unyielding morning light filtered through the blinds, casting thin lines of gold across the living room carpet. You blinked against the sudden brightness, your senses slowly returning to you. The sharp, agonizing cramps from the night before had finally ebbed away into a dull, manageable ache, thanks to the continuous warmth of the electric heating pad still pressed against your stomach.
You shifted slightly, the soft rustle of the plush blanket reminding you exactly where you were. You were still on the couch.
For a second, the quietness of the apartment made your chest tighten with a familiar, old loneliness—the ghost of Ni-ki’s neglect. But as you sat up, pushing the tangled hair from your face, you realized the heavy, suffocating weight that usually occupied your thoughts was gone. You had ended it. You had sent the text, blocked the number, and severed the cord.
Your eyes scanned the room, looking for the boy who had anchored you through the storm. The armchair was empty. The TV was turned off, the remote neatly placed back on the coffee table next to the half-eaten bags of snacks and the empty water bottle.
Then, you saw it. A small, torn piece of notebook paper resting on the edge of the table, weighted down by a fresh, unopened bottle of juice.
You reached out, your fingers tracing the neat, steady handwriting.
"You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you. I plugged the heating pad into the wall outlet so it wouldn't die, and I locked the door on my way out. Please drink the juice and try to eat something. I'll text you later to check on you. — Heeseung"
A small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of your lips—a feeling so foreign it almost ached. It was a stark, undeniable contrast to the last year of your life. With Ni-ki, you were always searching for hidden meanings, decoding blunt texts, and begging for a shred of presence. With Heeseung, everything was just... clear. Safe.
Later that afternoon, the crisp air bit at your cheeks as you walked down the bustling street near the university campus. The sun was bright, but the wind was cool enough to justify the oversized jacket you wore. Beside you, Heeseung walked at a relaxed pace, his hands shoved deep into his leather jacket pockets.
He had texted you a few hours after you woke up, casually asking if you wanted to grab some fresh air and get a proper meal. You had jumped at the chance. Being alone in the apartment made the reality of the breakup feel too loud, but being next to Heeseung made the world feel steady again.
As a group of loud students passed by on the sidewalk, forcing the two of you closer together, you hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then, acting on an instinct you didn't quite understand, you reached out and slid your hand around Heeseung’s arm, clinging softly to his sleeve.
Heeseung froze for a split second, his footsteps stuttering. You looked up, suddenly worried you had crossed a line, but as his eyes met yours, the tension melted from his shoulders. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he adjusted his arm, pulling it slightly closer to his side so your hold was secure, a quiet, unspoken acceptance passing between you.
But the warmth of the moment was instantly shattered.
You felt Heeseung’s posture stiffen entirely, his arm turning to stone beneath your fingers. His eyes locked onto something—someone—further down the block.
You followed his gaze, and your breath caught in your throat.
Walking straight toward you, his leather jacket open and his expression dark, was Ni-ki. He looked disheveled, like he hadn't slept, but the moment his eyes dropped to your hand wrapped tightly around his best friend's arm, his face contorted into pure, unadulterated rage.
"What the hell is this?" Ni-ki’s voice boomed, cutting through the ambient noise of the street as he stopped abruptly in front of you.
You instinctively stepped half a beat behind Heeseung, your grip tightening on his arm.
Ni-ki didn't even look at you. His eyes were burning holes straight into Heeseung’s face, his chest heaving with volatile anger. "Are you serious right now, Heeseung? What are you doing with my girlfriend?"
Heeseung didn't flinch. He stepped forward slightly, shielding you from Ni-ki's towering presence. His voice was incredibly calm, but it possessed a dangerous, icy edge you had never heard from him before.
"Girlfriend?" Heeseung let out a low, humorless laugh, his eyes narrowing. "She’s not your girlfriend, Ni-ki. She’s mine."
The word hung in the air like a match dropped in a powder keg. Mine.
You knew Heeseung only said it to hurt him—to force Ni-ki to face the reality of what he had thrown away, to twist the knife of jealousy into a boy who had taken everything for granted. And it worked entirely too well.
Ni-ki’s eyes turned completely feral. "What did you just say?"
Before you could even process the movement, Ni-ki lunged forward. His fist flew, connecting sharply with the side of Heeseung’s jaw with a sickening thud. The force of the blow tore Heeseung’s arm from your grip, sending him stumbling back against the brick wall of a storefront.
"Heeseung!" you screamed, your voice cracking with sheer panic.
Heeseung wiped a sudden smear of blood from his split lip, his calm demeanor completely evaporating into raw, defensive adrenaline. He didn't hesitate. He lunged back, throwing his weight into Ni-ki, shoving him hard into the pavement.
The fight was messy, fueled by months of unspoken tension and suppressed resentment. Passersby stopped, gasping and pulling out phones, but you were entirely blind to them. All you could see was the brutal flurry of fabric and fists. Ni-ki threw another wild punch, his knuckles catching Heeseung squarely across the eyebrow, splitting the delicate skin open. Heeseung countered, driving his fist into Ni-ki's stomach, knocking the wind out of him until two older men from a nearby cafe finally rushed over, throwing their arms around both boys to tear them apart.
"Let go of me!" Ni-ki roared, thrashing against the grip of the man holding him back. Wipeable blood dripped from Heeseung’s eyebrow, staining his cheek, but he stood his ground, breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he stared his former best friend down.
Ni-ki’s eyes finally snapped to you, frantic, furious, and bleeding from his lip. "You cheated on me," he hissed, the words laced with venom as he pointed a trembling finger at you. "A whole year, and the second I'm not looking, you're sleeping with my best friend? You're a liar. You cheated on me!"
Something inside you snapped.
The lingering fear, the exhaustion, the months of crying yourself to sleep in a dark, empty apartment—it all rushed to the surface, breaking through the dam of your silence.
"I cheated on you?!" you yelled back, the sheer volume of your voice surprising even yourself as tears finally spilled over your cheeks. "Are you out of your mind, Ni-ki?! Look at me! Look at what you've done to me for the past year!"
Step by step, you walked right up to him, completely unbothered by the crowd, completely unbothered by his anger.
"You forget I even exist! You never give me attention, you never tell me anything sweet, you treat me like an absolute chore! Last night I was curled up in bed crying from agony, and you knew it. You knew I was sick, and you used me as an excuse to leave your friends just so you could go somewhere else and lie to me!"
Ni-ki flinched, his furious expression faltering for a split second as the weight of his own actions was laid bare in front of the street.
"You left me alone in the dark!" your voice cracked, a heavy, ragged sob tearing from your throat. "I didn't cheat on you, Ni-ki. You abandoned me a long time ago. Heeseung was the only person who actually cared if I was alive last night. We are done. We've been done. Don't you dare ever look at me again."
Without waiting for his response, without caring about the stunned silence of the street or the look of sudden realization on Ni-ki's face, you grabbed Heeseung’s hand. His fingers were shaking slightly, his knuckles scraped and bleeding, but he held on tight as you pulled him away from the scene, walking as fast as your legs could carry you back toward the safety of your apartment.
The heavy wooden door of your apartment clicked shut, finally sealing out the chaotic noise of the world outside. The silence of the hallway was deafening.
You let out a long, trembling breath and turned to look at Heeseung. He looked terrible. The split across his eyebrow was still sluggishly bleeding, a dark crimson line trailing down the side of his temple, and his lower lip was already starting to swell and discolor.
"Sit on the bathroom counter," you instructed softly, your voice still rough from crying.
He didn't argue. He followed you into the small bathroom, hopping up onto the edge of the counter while you retrieved the first-aid kit from the cabinet. Your hands were shaking as you pulled out the antiseptic wipes, cotton pads, and ointment.
You stepped between his knees, leaning in close to inspect the damage. Heeseung sat perfectly still, his eyes tracking your every movement as you gently pressed a damp cotton pad against his eyebrow to clean away the blood. He winced slightly, his sharp jaw tightening, but he didn't pull away from your touch.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, your heart aching as you saw the bruising forming near his eye. "This is my fault. You shouldn't have gotten hurt because of me."
"It's not your fault," Heeseung murmured, his voice low and raspy. He reached up, his warm, uninjured hand gently catching your wrist, stopping your movements for a moment. His eyes were intense, holding yours with total sincerity. "Don't apologize for his stupidity. I'd take a hit for you any day. You know that."
You stared at him, your breath catching in your throat. The closeness was overwhelming—the scent of his cologne mixed with the metallic tang of blood, the steady rise and fall of his chest right against yours.
You cleared your throat softly, gently pulling your hand back to finish dabbing the ointment onto his split lip. You tried to focus on the task, but the question that had been burning in your mind since the sidewalk finally slipped past your lips.
"Heeseung..." you started, keeping your eyes on his lip as you applied a small strip of medical tape to his eyebrow. "Why did you say that out there?"
He stayed silent, watching you.
"Why did you tell him I was yours?" you asked, finally dropping your hands to your sides and looking directly into his dark eyes. "I know you wanted to make him jealous, but... it felt different."
Heeseung let out a long, heavy breath, leaning his head back slightly against the bathroom mirror. A faint, self-deprecating smile touched his uninjured side of his lips.
"Because it wasn't just to make him jealous," he confessed softly.
Your heart did a violent flip against your ribs. "What do you mean?"
Heeseung slid down from the counter, stepping closer to you until there was barely any space left between you in the small bathroom. He looked down at you, the defensive wall he usually kept up completely shattered by the adrenaline and the raw emotion of the day.
"I’ve wanted to say those words for a very long time," Heeseung said, his voice dropping into a quiet, vulnerable register that made your skin tingle. "Long before you and Ni-ki ever started dating."
You stared at him, completely speechless, your mind scrambling to process what he was saying.
"I loved you first," he whispered, the truth finally tumbling out into the open after a year of silence. "Before he ever even noticed you, I was planning on telling you how I felt. I had everything ready. But... Ni-ki found out. He got jealous, he got competitive, and he moved faster than me. He confessed to you before I could, and because he was my best friend, I backed off. I thought... I thought if he loved you, he’d treat you right. So I forced myself to be just the supportive friend."
Heeseung reached out, his thumb gently brushing a stray tear from your cheek, his touch incredibly light and tender.
"But watching him neglect you for a whole year? Watching you cry because of him while I had to sit on the sidelines and pretend it didn't rip me apart?" His voice cracked slightly, his eyes swimming with a year's worth of suppressed pain. "That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. So when I said you were mine today... I meant it. I don't ever want to see you hurt by anyone else again. Especially not him."
Your breath caught in your throat, the walls of the small bathroom suddenly feeling like they were closing in. You stared up at him, your eyes wide as your mind scrambled to process the weight of his words. A year. A whole year of feeling invisible, of wondering what was wrong with you, while the person who actually held your heart in his hands had been standing right next to you the entire time.
"Heeseung..." you whispered softly.
The name was barely a breath, a fragile sound that trembled with the sheer shock of what was happening. You couldn't believe it. It felt like a dream born out of your worst night of exhaustion, a cruel trick of your mind—except the warmth of his thumb against your cheek was entirely too real.
As the reality of his confession sank into your chest, a fresh, heavy tear slipped from your eye, tracking over his skin.
Heeseung’s expression softened even more, a look of profound tenderness crossing his bruised face. He didn't pull his hand away; instead, he let his palm rest gently against the side of your face, his thumb catching the tear before it could fall.
"Don't cry," he murmured, his voice laced with a quiet desperation as he leaned down slightly, bringing himself closer to your level. "Please don't cry. The last thing I ever want to do is add to the tears he caused you."
"I just..." You swallowed hard, your hands instinctively reaching out to rest against his chest, feeling the rapid, heavy thudding of his heart beneath his shirt. "I had no idea. You were always so careful around me. You never gave me a reason to think..."
"Because I had to," Heeseung confessed, a raw, self-deprecating laugh escaping his lips. He closed his eyes for a brief second, leaning his forehead gently against yours. The proximity was intoxicating—the scent of him, the heat radiating from his skin, the quiet safety of his space. "Every time you smiled at him, every time you complained about him being cold and I had to tell you to give him another chance because he was my friend... it was killing me. But I didn't want to ruin your happiness if you really loved him."
He opened his eyes, staring directly into yours with a fierce, unwavering devotion.
"But you're free now," he whispered, his grip on your cheek tightening just enough to ground you. "And I'm not backing down this time. I don't care about the consequences. I just want to show you how you're actually supposed to be loved."
The air in the small bathroom shifted instantly, the heavy angst of the past year evaporating into pure, electric tension. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, your fingers tightening against the fabric of his shirt, pulling him just a fraction of an inch closer.
Heeseung’s breath hitched. His dark eyes dropped to your lips, searching, waiting for any sign that you wanted this as badly as he did.
"Heeseung," you breathed, and that was all the permission he needed.
He leaned down, his mouth catching yours in a kiss that was a whole year in the making. It wasn't the tentative, fleeting touch you had grown used to; it was deep, possessive, and desperate, filled with all the unspoken words and hidden glances he had forced himself to swallow for months. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and Heeseung used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his large hand sliding from your cheek down to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair to hold you completely steady against him.
Your hands tracked up his chest, wrapping around his neck, pulling yourself up on your tiptoes to bury yourself in his warmth. He let out a low, ragged groan against your mouth, his other arm winding tightly around your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he backed you out of the bathroom and into the dim hallway.
You didn't break the kiss for a single second. He guided you backward until your knees hit the edge of your mattress, both of you tumbling down onto the unmade sheets.
Heeseung came down over you, his hands pinning your wrists gently to the mattress beside your head, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your head spin. But as he shifted his weight to get closer, his thigh brushed firmly against your lower abdomen.
A sharp, sudden spike of a cramp flared up, making you involuntarily gasp and tense up beneath him.
Heeseung pulled back instantly, his eyes wide with sudden panic. The haze of passion in his expression immediately cleared, replaced by pure concern. "Oh god—I'm sorry. Did I hurt you? Your stomach?"
You let out a breathless, slightly embarrassed laugh, your cheeks burning bright red. "No, no, you're fine. It's just... my period. I forgot for a second."
Heeseung blinked, and then a incredibly soft, amused smile broke across his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners despite his bruised eyebrow. He let out a breathless chuckle, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead.
"Right. The heating pad," he murmured, his voice still deep and raspy from the intensity of the moment. He rolled off you, lying on his side next to you and pulling the heavy blanket up over both of your shoulders. "As much as I want to keep kissing you, doctor's orders take priority."
He reached over to the nightstand where you had moved the electric heating pad earlier, plugging it back in and gently sliding it under the blanket, placing it right over your stomach. Then, he wrapped his large arm around your waist from behind, pulling your back flush against his chest, holding the heating pad securely in place with his palm.
"Better?" he whispered into your hair, his breath warm against your neck.
You nodded, melting completely into his embrace. You were tangled in the sheets together, your heart still racing from the kiss, but wrapped in a warmth that Ni-ki had never given you.
The next week passed in a blur of soft, easy transitions. Without the constant anxiety of a failing relationship hanging over your head, your apartment felt lighter. Your period had finally ended, taking the physical ache with it, and for the first time in a year, you felt entirely like yourself again.
Tonight had been your first official date with Heeseung. No hiding, no lingering shadows of his former best friend—just the two of you at a quiet, late-night diner, laughing until your chest hurt, holding hands across the table under the warm glow of the neon lights.
By the time Heeseung unlocked your apartment door, the clock had long passed midnight. The apartment was cool and dark as you stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind you and sealing out the quiet hum of the city.
You turned around to take off your jacket, but before your fingers could even reach the zipper, Heeseung’s hands were there. He gently slid the fabric off your shoulders, letting it drop carelessly onto the entryway chair.
When you looked up, his eyes were dark, heavy with a patience that had finally run out. A whole week of waiting, of being careful, of holding back—it all culminated in the intense glance he leveled at your lips.
"I've been thinking about this all night," Heeseung murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration in the quiet hallway.
He didn't wait. He stepped into your space, his hands coming up to cup your face, his long fingers anchoring into your hair as he brought his mouth down to yours.
The kiss was entirely different from the desperate, frantic one in the bathroom a week ago. This was slow, deliberate, and dizzyingly deep. A soft sigh escaped your throat, and Heeseung caught the sound, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he pressed you back against the closed front door. The cool wood against your back was a stark contrast to the absolute fire of his touch.
His lips parted yours with a practiced, intoxicating rhythm, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones. You reached out blindly, your hands gripping his shoulders, feeling the hard muscle beneath his shirt as you pulled him closer, wanting to erase every inch of space between you.
Heeseung broke the kiss for a fraction of a second, his breath hitching as his lips tracked down the line of your jaw, his stubble scraping pleasantly against your skin. He found the sensitive pulse point at your neck, nipping lightly before sucking the soft skin, making your knees go completely weak. You whimpered, your fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him back up to your mouth.
"The bedroom," you breathed out against his lips, the words a desperate whisper.
Heeseung let out a breathless, raspy laugh, his eyes flashing with dark heat. He didn't break contact, keeping his mouth pressed to yours as his hands slid down to your waist. In one smooth, effortless motion, he hoisted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.
He carried you down the short hallway, the heavy thud of his boots the only sound in the apartment. You kissed him through the darkness, your hands mapping the broad lines of his back, completely drunk on the smell of him and the safe, consuming weight of his body.
When his knees hit the edge of the mattress, he tumbled down with you, hovering over you in the center of the bed. The dim moonlight filtered through the blinds, illuminating the sharp angles of his face, his messy hair, and the faint, fading bruises on his lip and eyebrow—a reminder of exactly who had fought for you.
Heeseung pinned your wrists to the sheets beside your head, his large palms locking yours down, though his grip was incredibly gentle. He looked down at you, his chest heaving, his dark eyes tracing every detail of your face in the shadows.
"No cramps this time?" he whispered, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, his voice laced with a dangerous, heavy affection.
You smiled up at him, your heart hammering wildly against your ribs. "No cramps."
"Good," Heeseung murmured, leaning down until his lips were barely a millimeter from yours, his hot breath fanning over your skin. "Because I'm not letting you go tonight."
Heeseung didn’t give you a chance to reply. He closed the tiny distance between you, his mouth melting over yours in a kiss that felt completely limitless. Without the underlying panic of the week before, this was pure, unadulterated devotion. His lips were soft but demanding, parting yours with a slow, heavy rhythm that made your head spin.
He released your wrists, his large hands immediately sliding down to frame your jaw, his thumbs sweeping across your cheeks as if he were trying to memorize the exact contour of your face. You let out a soft, shaky sigh into his mouth, your arms instantly wrapping around his neck to pull him down as close as physically possible.
A low, ragged rumble vibrated in Heeseung’s chest at your compliance. He shifted his weight, his thigh sliding between yours, the heavy denim of his jeans a delicious friction against your bare legs. The sheer heat radiating off his body was overwhelming, erasing the cool midnight air of the bedroom entirely.
His lips left yours, tracking a path of burning kisses down your jawline to the sensitive dip beneath your ear. You gasped, your head tilting back into the pillows as his teeth lightly grazed your pulse point. Every touch was deliberate, laced with a reverence that made your chest ache.
"You have no idea," Heeseung breathed against your skin, his voice incredibly rough and deep, sending a shiver straight down your spine. His hands traveled down to the hem of your sweater, his warm palms making direct contact with the bare skin of your waist. His hands were large, slightly calloused, and so beautifully warm. "How long I’ve had to pretend I didn't want this. How long I’ve had to look away when you walked into a room."
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes heavily hooded, filled with an intensity that made you feel completely consumed. His thumbs stroked the soft skin of your sides, anchoring you to the mattress.
"I'm never looking away again," he whispered, his gaze dropping to your lips before he bent down to take them again.
This time, the kiss was deeper, hungrier. Your fingers tangled in the soft, messy strands of his hair, pulling him closer as you arched your back into his touch. Heeseung groaned, his grip tightening on your waist as he pulled your hips up to meet his, completely burying you beneath his frame. The scent of his cedarwood cologne and the clean, masculine warmth of his skin filled your senses until you couldn't think of anything else. You were entirely safe, entirely cherished, completely drowning in him.
Heeseung broke the kiss for just a second, his breath hitching as he looked down at you in the dim moonlight. The heat in his eyes was undeniable, a silent question hanging in the air. You met his gaze, your hands moving down to the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward in a clear answer.
He sat up on his knees, his eyes never leaving yours as he pulled the soft cotton over his head and tossed it blindly to the floor. The shadows of the bedroom caught the sharp lines of his shoulders and chest, a sight that made your breath hitch. Before you could even think, he leaned back down, his hands slipping under the hem of your sweater. His large palms were warm against your bare skin as he gently lifted the fabric, helping you slide out of it until it joined his shirt on the floor.
The sudden coolness of the room faded the second Heeseung came back down over you. The direct contact of his bare chest against yours was electric, a rush of pure warmth that made you gasp against his lips. He unbuckled his belt with a quick, practiced movement, kicking out of his heavy denim jeans before helping you slide out of yours, stripping away the final barriers between you.
Now completely untethered, Heeseung pulled you flush against him, the full weight of his body pressing you deep into the mattress. His hands traced the curve of your hips, pulling you up to meet him as his mouth found yours again—sweeter, deeper, and completely unrestricted. Every touch was heavy with the realization that you were finally, completely his, wrapped together in the quiet sanctuary of the sheets.
He closed his eyes for a split second, his jaw clenching as he pushed all the way into you, burying himself completely within your warmth. The absolute finality of the movement sent a wave of heat straight to your core, making you cry out softly against his skin.
Heeseung didn't hold back anymore. His hands locked firmly underneath your thighs, lifting your legs higher around his waist to pull you even deeper against him. He began to move in a heavy, relentless rhythm, his chest slick with sweat as he drove into you again and again, each deep stroke completely overriding your senses until your thoughts were entirely consumed by the friction of his body against yours.
"ahh you feel so good baby" heeseung said with low voice letting out moan, before speeding up and going deeper "I didn't realize what I've missed this whole fucking year"heeseung said before going lower and kissing you again.
"heeseung, your dick is so big" you said letting out a loud moan, after breaking the kiss, and gripping tightly at his shoulders, he let out a groan.
"fuck ...ahh..I'm..close.." you said while gripping more tight on his shoulders, after that you orgasm hit like a wave, while you let out a loud moan, but heeseung didn't stop.
"oh fuck..I'm also close..ah.."heeseung said breathing hard, in seconds he came and filled you up with his cum.
"oh..yes..babyy.." he said still didn't pulled out, after some minutes he finally takes out, And his cum dripping on you, he finally kissed your forehead, before collapsing next to you.
While he was laying next to you, he pulled you closer, your back hitting his bare chest.
"your completely mine now." He said while kissing your head.
