this is the most insane video of enhypen ever

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this is the most insane video of enhypen ever
Being a kpop stan is so crazy because they'll tell you on a random Tuesday that the guy the entire group was formed around is leaving out of nowhere
21+ nsfw audio - MDNI.
riding submissive heeseung until he cums inside you
+ bed squakes
PRACTICING FOR HIM.
── synopsis: everyone on campus knows Heeseung’s rules — no commitments, no second chances, and no girl stays long enough to matter. As basketball captain he collects hearts like trophies and leaves them broken behind him without a second thought. You watch him from far away, knowing you should stay away, but you don't just want to be another name on his list. You want him to choose you and see only you. The problem is you're completely inexperienced, a virgin in every sense, while the girls around him know exactly how to move, how to flirt, and how to keep him hooked. So you make a plan: practice with other guys, learn the skills you're missing, and completely reinvent yourself to finally make Heeseung notice you — and choose you over everyone else.
warnings: explicit sexual content (mdni), popping cherry, fingering, oral (f. & m. receiving), deepthroat, panty gag, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, riding, missionary, doggy style, against the wall, overstimulation, pussy slapping, spanking, hair pulling, choking, spitting on pussy, praise kink, light degradation, dirty talk, begging, edging, possessiveness, manhandling, public/risky sex (library + locker room), risk of getting caught, use of pet name (babe, doll, angel, baby, slut, good girl), mostly dom!members with a bit of dom!reader.
wc: 18k ┆ a/n: I know some of you are waiting for part 2 of teacher's pet, but I was just so excited to write this one that I decided to work on it first (the idea actually came to me while listening to drake's 'practice') this ended up being way longer than I expected, but anyway... I hope you guys like it. happy reading! (btw if you guys want to request any fics, my asks are open!)
Heeseung is the sun around which the entire campus orbits.
He’s the captain of the basketball team, the big star whose name echoes through the packed arena during every game. With his lean yet athletic build, dark hair that falls over his sweaty forehead after a match, and that lazy half-smile that screams trouble while charming every girl in sight, he moves like he’s always being watched — and he is. Every head turns when he walks by, the crowd in the hallways parting like the sea for him and his teammates. He loves the attention.
Everyone knows the stories about Heeseung. He doesn’t do relationships — he rotates. A new girl every week, sometimes every day if he’s in the mood. They’re often seen leaving his apartment late at night, or early in the morning if he feels like letting them stay over, hair messy and wearing his team jacket like a trophy.
He usually doesn't appear with them in public, but it doesn't take long for the chosen girl to start gossiping in the hallways about how she's being fucked by him. That doesn’t last long though, because once the thrill fades he ignores them completely, never answering their messages once the weekend is over. "Let’s just have fun," he says, and the girls always agree, secretly believing they’ll be the one to change him.
You’ve been watching him from afar for months, studying the way he laughs too loudly at parties with his arm around whatever girl he’s with at the moment, the way his hand rests on her lower back as he guides her through the crowd, and how his eyes scan the room like he’s already searching for the next target while the current one is still pressed against him. It should disgust you — the casual way he uses people, the trail of broken hearts he leaves behind without remorse. But it doesn’t disgust you. It feeds you.
Deep down, in that secret place where you allow yourself to be completely honest, you want to be one of them. Not just another weekly girl — you want to be the one who breaks the pattern, the one so unforgettable, so incredible in bed and out of it, that Heeseung, the campus player, finally chooses you for good.
The problem is you have no idea how to make that happen.
You’re a virgin, completely untouched. The closest you’ve ever gotten to intimacy was an awkward, too-long hug with your best friend Jake after a tough week of exams. Approaching Heeseung as you are now — inexperienced, nervous, and clumsy — would never work.
"He likes confident girls, experienced ones who know how to dominate and be dominated in equal measure, because he doesn’t waste time teaching the basics. He expects you to already know how to please him." That’s what you heard from one of his teammates.
So after watching him leave the court with yet another girl on his arm, you make a decision.
You’re going to practice.
You’re going to transform yourself into the perfect girl for him — experienced enough to impress him, confident enough to stand out, and irresistible enough that when he finally notices you, he won’t be able to let you go.
────────
You stand outside Jake’s dorm room long enough for your legs to start aching. Your best friend’s room has always been your safe haven — the perfect spot for late-night study sessions, movie marathons, and listening to him ramble excitedly about sci-fi. Jake is kind, a bit nerdy in the best way possible, like a golden retriever with brown hair, a sweet smile, and glasses.
With a deep breath, you knock on the door.
Jake opens it almost immediately and breaks into a wide smile the moment he sees you. "Hey, what took you so long? Come in— wait, are you okay? You look tense."
You step inside and sit on the edge of his bed, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. Jake drops into his desk chair and pulls it closer so he’s facing you directly, his knees almost brushing against yours. "Jake… I need to talk to you about something kind of crazy, embarrassing, and probably really stupid."
He tilts his head, curiosity sparkling behind his glasses. "You know you can tell me anything. What’s going on?"
You tell him everything — how you’ve been watching Heeseung for months, how every time you see him with someone new, something deep in your chest twists, not exactly with jealousy, but with desire. You share the rumors you’ve heard about how he likes girls who know what they’re doing, girls who can match his intensity. Finally, you admit that you want to be the one he chooses — not just for a week, not for a fling, but for good.
"But I’m a virgin, Jake," you whisper, your cheeks burning. "I’ve never even… I don’t know what I’m doing. So if I tried to approach him like this, he’d probably laugh."
Jake’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t interrupt.
"So I’ve decided… I’m going to practice. I’m going to get experience so that when I finally have my chance with Heeseung, I’ll be good enough that he won’t want anyone else."
Silence stretches between you as Jake stares at you for a long moment. He pushes his glasses up, his expression soft — not mocking, not disgusted. Just… Jake. "Wow. That’s… a lot. Heeseung, huh? I mean, I get it, but you’re really willing to do all that for him?"
Biting your lip, you nod. "I know it sounds crazy, but I can’t stop thinking about it. And… I was hoping you’d help me with the first part."
Your voice drops until it’s almost inaudible. "I want you to be my first. I want to lose my virginity with you. You’re my best friend and I trust you. I know you’ll be gentle, you won’t laugh at me or tell anyone. Please, Jake?"
His cheeks flush pink and for a second it looks like he might say no. "You… you want me to what? Oh my God. I don’t even know what to say."
He lets out a nervous laugh, a mix of surprise and something he’s always kept hidden. "I’ve never thought about you like that before or… okay, maybe I have, a little. But you’re serious? This is all for Heeseung?"
"Yes, but right now it’s about learning with someone safe, someone who cares. And that someone is you."
Jake stays quiet for a moment while he thinks, then reaches out and takes your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "Okay… if we’re really going to do this, I want it to be right for you. Not just jumping in headfirst." His thumb keeps tracing slow, soft circles on the back of your hand. "You’ve never done any of this before, right? Not even… by yourself?"
You swallow hard, staring at your intertwined fingers, and admit softly, "No… I mean, I tried rubbing against my pillow once and it felt good, I think? But I got scared and stopped. I don’t know what I’m doing, Jake. That’s why I need you to help me learn."
Jake nods, adjusting his glasses — a nervous habit — with flushed cheeks, but his voice stays as gentle and patient as always. "That makes sense. But before anyone else touches you, you should get to know your own body first. What feels good, what you like. It’ll make everything easier later… for him and for you."
He hesitates for a second, then adds with a small reassuring smile, "Do you trust me enough to try this now? With me here?"
Your heart races with a mix of embarrassment and curiosity. "Yes, I trust you. Just… tell me what to do, please."
Jake stands up slowly and sits beside you on the bed. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your temple, then to your cheek. "Start by getting comfortable. Lie back, and maybe take off your sweater if you want to and feel okay with it."
You do as he says, pulling off your sweater and setting it aside so you’re left in just your tank top and jeans. "Good," he murmurs. "Now touch yourself under your clothes first, over your stomach, along your thighs… feel how your body reacts."
You slide your hand beneath the thin fabric of your tank top. Your fingers graze the soft skin of your belly, then move higher, gently caressing one of your breasts. It feels strange doing this while he watches, but his gaze isn’t hungry or demanding — it’s warm and encouraging, like he’s looking at something precious. When your fingertips brush your nipple, a small sigh escapes you.
"Right there. That’s good. Circle slowly and squeeze just a little."
As he speaks, his own hand drifts down to the front of his sweatpants and then he starts touching himself gently over the fabric, not even trying to hide it. Knowing he’s getting hard just from watching you makes your breath hitch.
Following his instruction, you circle and lightly pinch your nipple, feeling a warm sensation build low in your belly. "Jake, it feels so good…"
"Tell me," he encourages, his hand moving in slow strokes that match the rhythm of your breathing. "Does it make you wet between your legs?"
"Yes," you sigh.
"Keep going, slide your other hand into your jeans and touch yourself over your panties if you’re not ready for more yet."
With your free hand you obey, unbuttoning your jeans and slipping inside. The fabric of your panties is already damp when you press your fingers against yourself and rub lightly, drawing a soft whimper from your throat.
Both of your breathing grows heavier with every second. Jake pushes his sweatpants and boxers down just enough to free himself, stroking slowly while he watches every movement of your fingers.
"Fuck, that’s beautiful," he breathes, the words slipping out like he can’t hold them back. "Rub your clit. Find the spot that feels best."
You circle your clit, experimenting with pressure and rhythm, rolling your hips when you finally discover the perfect way to touch yourself. Jake’s eyes stay locked on your hand while his own speeds up, his thumb brushing over the head of his cock with every stroke.
"Inside your panties now," his voice still gentle but strained. "Feel how wet you are. Explore your body, learn what it likes so you can show someone exactly what you need."
You push your panties aside and slide a finger along your slick folds. "Slide a finger inside, babe," he says and when you do, a moan escapes your lips — it’s tight, but not uncomfortable. Jake groans with the sight, his hand moving faster on himself.
"Add another finger and curl them a little. Yeah, just like that. You’re doing so good, babe." His praise makes you bolder, so you start pumping your fingers slowly, rubbing your clit with your thumb at the same time, while your free hand keeps playing with your breast, pinching harder as the pleasure rises.
"You’re getting close, aren’t you? I can tell by the way you’re breathing. Let it happen. Imagine how good it’ll feel when I’m inside you." His words push you over the edge.
Moaning Jake’s name, completely lost in the overwhelming sensation, your body tenses and your thighs tremble uncontrollably as the orgasm crashes through you. Waves of heat pulse around your fingers, deeper and stronger than you ever imagined.
"Fuck, don’t do this to me." His hand strokes faster until he groans and comes too, spilling over his fingers with a shaky breath.
For a moment, the room falls quiet except for your shared breathing. Jake leans in and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, his glasses tilting slightly. "Hey… you still with me? How are you feeling after that? Overwhelmed?"
You shake your head and let out a small giggle. "I’m good. Really good, actually." Reaching up, you gently fix his glasses and whisper, "Thank you for being so patient with me, Jake. I know this is probably weird for you too."
He smiles, and it makes you smile back naturally. "It’s not weird. At least not with you. Honestly, seeing you like that… it was beautiful. You’re beautiful." He leans in and kisses your forehead, then your cheek, giving you time to calm down while his hand rests on your hip and his thumb draws slow circles on your skin. "If you want to keep going, I’m right here."
You bite your lip, the mix of nerves and curiosity warms your body all over again. This is supposed to be practice — each new sensation is another skill you’re learning — but right now, with him, it feels like something more.
"I want more," you admit, cheeks burning. "Can you… use your mouth on me? I’ve heard it feels really good, but I don’t know what to expect."
Jake’s eyes widen for half a second. "Yeah, I’d love to do that for you." He moves carefully on the bed, helping you adjust the pillows behind your head so you’re comfortable. "Just relax and tell me what feels good, okay? If anything is too much or not enough, say so. Promise?"
"Promise." You extend your pinky toward him and he does the same, linking them together to seal the promise.
He starts with soft kisses on the inside of your knee, then higher up your thigh. Every touch of his lips sends shivers across your skin. "Your legs are already shaking," he murmurs with a low chuckle against your thigh. "That’s so cute."
When his mouth finally reaches your center, it’s feather-light at first — just his lips brushing against your folds — but it’s enough to make you draw in a sharp breath and grip the sheets tightly.
Then his warm tongue drags upward in one long, torturous lick from your entrance all the way to your clit. The feeling is wet, hot, and incredibly intimate, the texture of his tongue adds a new layer of friction that makes your hips jerk involuntarily.
"My God, Jake…" The words slip out before you can stop them.
"Good?" he asks, pulling back just enough for you to see his glistening lips as he looks up at you.
"Yes… really good. Do that again, please."
With more confidence this time, he explores every inch of you — licking along your folds, circling your clit, then moving down to taste your entrance. The wet sounds of him pleasuring you only heighten the arousal building in your belly.
Jake hums in satisfaction as he finds the rhythm you like best, reading it from your moans. "You taste incredible… so hot and wet."
You reach down and thread your fingers through his soft hair. "Right there, when you suck on my clit, it feels so good."
He listens immediately, sealing his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and applying gentle suction while his tongue flicks against it, making the pleasure intensify, stronger than before.
The smooth glide of his tongue, the occasional careful graze of his teeth, and the way he alternates between lavishing attention on your clit and licking down to dip inside you make heat spread through your core — it radiates outward until even your fingertips feel warm. You grow even wetter, and Jake groans in appreciation, licking up every drop like he can’t get enough.
"Jake, I think I’m getting close again," you gasp, your voice breaking into a loud moan as he sucks harder on your clit. Your hips move against his face instinctively, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he doubles down with his tongue. This orgasm builds differently — deeper, more overwhelming — and when it crashes over you, it hits with a full-body shudder.
You cry out his name, fingers tightening in his hair as waves of pleasure pulse through your center. Jake keeps licking you through it all, drawing out every tremor until you’re panting and oversensitive.
He finally lifts his head, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand before leaning over you again. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes shine behind his glasses, and a proud little smile plays on his lips. "You okay? That looked like it felt really good."
You laugh breathlessly. "It was incredible… I didn’t know I could feel so sensitive down there."
Jake chuckles softly. "Good. That’s kind of the point of all this practice, right? Learning what you like." His hand slides over your body again, stopping just above your mound as his fingers trace lazy patterns across your skin. "Are you sure you want me to take your virginity? Your body’s already experienced so much tonight. Maybe you need a break."
You shake your head, caressing his face. "I don’t need a break. I just want to feel your cock inside me, please."
One of his hands drifts lower until his fingers reach your wet entrance, circling it slowly. "I need to make sure you’re ready for me. I don’t want to hurt you. Relax and breathe out for me."
You do as he says, and he slowly presses two fingers inside you.
His longer fingers create a different sensation. The stretch borders on discomfort at first, making your walls clench tightly around the intrusion. "Ah— it’s tight," you whisper, gripping his shoulder. "It burns a little."
Jake freezes immediately. "Want me to stop? We can wait."
"No! Keep going. I want to get used to it."
He nods and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "You’re doing so well… so warm and snug around my fingers. What if I curl them just a little?" He demonstrates, stroking your inner walls gently until he brushes against a spongy spot that sends sparks shooting up your spine.
"Oh!" Your eyes widen. "Right there… my God, that feels so good."
"I found your g-spot," he says, clearly proud of himself. He keeps the movements shallow and slow, pumping his fingers in and out while his thumb draws gentle circles over your clit. The initial burning fades, turning into something hotter, slicker, and far more pleasurable.
"Add another one, Jake," you say after a few minutes, voice breathless. "I think I can take it."
Jake carefully slides a third finger in, the pressure increases and your walls flutter as they adjust to the stretch. Every curl of his fingers against that perfect spot sends waves of pleasure through your entire body, while his thumb on your clit keeps the arousal building higher.
"Talk to me, babe," he says, eyes fixed on your face. "How does it feel now? Too much?"
"It’s full… stretching me," you moan, your hips starting to move in time with his hand. "But it’s turning into something really good. Faster on my clit— yes, like that. God, Jake, your fingers are so deep."
He picks up the pace a little, thrusting more firmly and creating an overwhelming sensation in the best way possible. The pleasure keeps intensifying until your breathing comes in short gasps and your thighs tremble uncontrollably. "I’m getting close again. Please don’t stop."
Jake leans down to kiss your stomach, murmuring encouragement. "Come on, come on my fingers. Let go for me, babe."
You moan loudly, back arching as the orgasm hits you harder than the ones before. A deep wave crashes through you, making your inner walls clench rhythmically around his fingers. Jake keeps pumping slowly and carefully until the spasms ease, then gently pulls his fingers out and brings them to his mouth. "Your taste is addictive."
Smiling you reach up to brush a messy strand of hair from his forehead. "Jake… I want to go all the way. I want to feel you inside me, please."
Jake’s breath catches, then he sits up properly and reaches into the nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom.
"You actually have these," you say with a light teasing note in your voice.
He looks at you with a shy smile as he opens the packet and rolls the condom down his length. "Hey, Heeseung isn’t the only one on campus who has sex, you know? A guy can be prepared even if he’s not out at every party." Jake hovers over you, supporting his weight on his elbows so he doesn’t crush you. "You look so beautiful like this," he whispers, leaning closer and gazing at your lips.
"Can I?" When you nod, he captures your mouth in a slow, deep kiss filled with desire. His lips move to your cheek, your jaw, and then trail softly down the side of your neck, leaving a wet path that makes you shiver. He takes his time, giving attention to every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth and fingers. Only when both of you are breathing heavier does he settle between your legs and position himself.
"Breathe with me, okay? Slow and easy." You nod, inhaling as he begins to push inside.
The initial pressure is intense — a wide, stretching fullness that makes your breath hitch. Your walls stretch around his thickness in an overwhelming way and your body tenses as he sinks into you inch by inch, giving you time to adjust. "Oh my God…"
Jake stops immediately. "Hey, hey… look at me," he says, his voice full of concern. He kisses you softly on the lips, then your nose and forehead. "Is it too much? We can wait. I hate the idea of hurting you, even for a second."
You shake your head and take a deep breath, trying to ease the discomfort. "It’s a lot… really full and there’s some burning, but I want this."
To distract you from the stretch and help your body relax around him, he kisses you again. It works — the pain slowly turns into pressure, and then into something hotter and more intimate. "Okay, you can move a little more now."
Jake slides forward inch by inch until he’s fully inside you — every part of him is wrapped tightly in your heat, making you feel so connected, so completely filled, with a pleasant throbbing where your bodies meet.
"God… you feel incredible," he breathes, staying still for a moment while buried deep inside you. He covers you with more kisses. "So warm and tight around me. Tell me how you feel, babe."
"Full," you sigh. "So deep… it’s starting to feel really good."
Smiling against your skin, he begins rocking his hips in small, gentle movements. Each shallow thrust glides along your inner walls, brushing that sensitive spot and sending sparks of pleasure through your whole body. Jake keeps his eyes on yours, watching carefully for any sign of discomfort.
You wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer. "More kisses," you whisper softly, and he gives them freely — deep, passionate kisses that match the slow rhythm of his hips. His hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers beside your head as he sinks a little deeper and a little firmer. The pleasure builds gradually, a warm wave spreading from your center outward.
"You’re doing so well," he praises between kisses, his voice full of affection. "Look at you… my best friend, letting me do this. You feel perfect, so hot and slick around my cock." His free hand caresses your breast through your tank top, his thumb brushing your nipple in time with his movements, pulling more moans from you.
"Faster… just a little," you ask, voice breaking. "I want to feel more."
Jake obeys, finding a slow but steady rhythm that lets every thrust fill you completely, the head of his cock brushing that sweet spot over and over again. "Does this feel good for you too?" you ask between moans, wanting to make sure he’s enjoying it.
"God, yes," he groans. "You’re squeezing me so tight, but right now it’s all about you. I want you to come like this if you can."
You roll your hips to meet his thrusts, learning the rhythm and experimenting with how it feels to clench around him. Jake’s glasses are completely fogged up and slipping down his nose, he pauses just long enough to take them off and set them aside, then kisses you deeply as he resumes his movements.
"I’m getting there," you moan against his mouth. "Please don’t stop, Jake."
"I’ve got you." He shifts slightly, sliding one hand between your bodies to rub gentle circles over your clit. The extra stimulation pushes you right over the edge. Your walls flutter and clench hard around his cock as the orgasm crashes through you. You moan loudly, nails digging into his back while your body pulses around him.
Jake keeps thrusting softly through your climax, murmuring praises. "That’s it… so good. You’re incredible." Only when you start to come down does he let himself go. His hips snap a few more times before he buries himself deep and comes with a low, shaky groan, filling the condom.
For a long moment afterward, he stays inside you while both of you catch your breath. Then he pulls out carefully, discards the condom, and cleans you both with a warm cloth from the bathroom. "You okay?" he asks, his voice soft and full of concern. "No pain? I tried to be as gentle as possible."
You snuggle into the sheets, feeling a pleasant soreness between your legs and a deep sense of satisfaction. "I’m perfect. A little sore, but in a good way. You made my first time really special, Jake. You’re the best friend I could ask for."
The next morning, you wake up in his bed. The ache between your legs reminds you of everything — the careful way he touched you, the gentle thrusts, the tender kisses. It had all been perfect for your first time.
But as you slip out of bed carefully so you don’t wake him, a realization settles in your mind. It wasn’t enough. Not for what you really want.
Heeseung isn’t gentle. From the rumors, girls get pinned against walls, left breathless and marked. He likes control, intensity, rough hands. Jake would never give you that, even if you begged. He’s your best friend who worries about every little sound you make. He would never push your limits the way you suspect Heeseung would.
You also need to practice that side — the rougher kind of sex that leaves you deliciously sore, the kind that teaches you how to take and give back. You can’t show up to Heeseung soft and inexperienced if you want to stand out, if you want him to crave you for more than one night.
So you leave Jake a note on his desk. "Thank you for last night. Let’s talk soon," and head back to your dorm with a new determination.
────────
That weekend, the hockey team is throwing a big party at their off-campus house — an event that always draws a different crowd from the basketball scene. There’s no explosive feud between the teams, just a quiet rivalry and enough tension that basketball players rarely show up at hockey parties and vice versa. It’s perfect. No chance of running into Heeseung or his circle, and you need that space to level up without any complications.
You take extra time getting ready because you want to be noticed. You choose a short black dress that hugs your curves, the hem riding high on your thighs. It’s simple but dangerous — low neckline, thin straps, the kind of outfit that makes you feel powerful when you look in the mirror. You add a bit more makeup than usual, nothing too dramatic, and slip into heels that make your legs look longer.
The hockey house is already packed when you arrive. Hockey players in their varsity jackets, girls in tight dresses, and red solo cups everywhere. You grab a drink and wander through the crowd, heart racing with anticipation.
That’s when you see him.
Sunghoon, the captain of the hockey team, is standing near the kitchen island, leaning against the counter like he owns the place — and he does. He has a cold, almost untouchable aura that makes people shiver when he walks by. His teammates laugh around him, but he only offers a slight, distant smile, like he’s above it all.
Your eyes meet across the room and he doesn’t look away. Instead, his gaze slowly travels down your body, taking in the dress you chose so carefully, before returning to your face. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips — not warm like Jake’s, but something sharper, more predatory. It sends a shiver down your spine.
You don’t look away either. After all, that’s exactly why you came.
He pushes off the counter and makes his way through the crowd toward you. The suffocating tension hits you the second he stops right in front of you, like all the air has been sucked out of the room. "You don’t usually come to our parties," he says, his voice low as he tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he’s already halfway to solving. "Or are you from the basketball crowd, doll?"
You take a sip of your drink to steady yourself. "Maybe I was waiting for the right night… Plus, hockey parties have a certain reputation."
A faint smile tugs at his lips as he steps a little closer, invading your space enough to make your pulse race. "Reputation for what, exactly?" He’s so close now that you can smell his cologne — something fresh and expensive that makes your head spin.
You shrug, trying to look calm. "Good music, strong drinks… You’re Sunghoon, right? The captain of the team. I’ve heard a lot about you." The words come out bolder than you expected, but they hit something in him and his gaze darkens.
He raises a thick eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest, making his impressively attractive biceps stand out. "I hope they’re good things."
You smile slightly. "Depends on who you ask. Some say you’re intense. Others say you’re… hard to keep up with."
Sunghoon studies you like he’s deciding something. The air between you grows heavier, and you can feel the pull — the way his eyes drop to your mouth, then lower, before sliding back up. "And what do you think? Do you think you could keep up?"
The question makes your breath hitch. "I think it depends," you reply, taking a small step closer, letting the tension build until it feels almost unbearable. "Are you offering to find out?"
He leans in even closer, his lips hovering near your ear so only you can hear him, his warm breath brushing your skin and sending shivers down your spine. "Careful. Talking like that might get you more than you bargained for."
You turn your head just enough that your cheeks nearly touch. "Maybe that’s exactly what I’m looking for."
His hand settles on your lower back, firm and guiding, pulling you subtly closer. "Come upstairs with me," he says, his voice steady as he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again. "There’s a room up there. Quieter. We can… talk more."
This is it — the next step.
You nod, letting him guide you through the crowd toward the stairs with his hand still resting on your back as you climb the steps.
The door clicks softly shut behind you, and the room instantly feels much quieter than the chaos downstairs, lit only by the soft glow coming through the open window. Sunghoon leans back against the door without saying a word, simply watching you with a playful smile on his lips.
"So," he begins softly, pushing away from the door and walking toward you, "you showed up at a hockey party dressed like that, with your eyes on the captain. You’re either really brave or really curious. Which one is it?"
"Maybe both."
Your back hits the wall before you even realize you’ve been moving backward. "Bold. I like that, I don’t waste time with girls who don’t know what they want." He towers over you, his presence intense and dominant.
You swallow hard. "I know exactly what I want tonight. Someone who won’t hold back."
He leans in closer, one hand settling on your hip, fingers pressing firmly enough for you to feel his strength. "Careful what you wish for… You look like the type who melts easily, and I think I’d really enjoy finding out."
His gaze drops to your mouth, then returns to your eyes, dark and hungry. Without another word, his lips crash against yours in a deep, overwhelming kiss right from the first second. Sunghoon doesn’t take it slow like Jake — he claims your mouth completely, his tongue sliding against yours with raw intensity while his free hand moves up to caress the back of your neck, tilting your head exactly the way he wants.
You try to match the intensity of his kiss, but it’s overwhelming — he devours every sigh and gasp that escapes you. When he finally pulls back enough for you to breathe, his eyes are darker, his lips slightly swollen. "Not bad," he murmurs, voice rough. "But you can do better, doll."
Before you can respond, he kisses you again, slower this time, pressing his body against yours so you can feel the hard line of his cock straining through his jeans. Your stomach tightens with a mix of nerves and excitement.
"Come here." He takes your hand and guides you away from the wall toward the bed. Sitting on the edge, he pulls you close until you’re straddling his lap, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his thighs, your dress riding up as you settle against him.
He pulls you into another deep kiss while one hand slides up your body and the other grips your thigh. You rock lightly in his lap, feeling him grow even harder beneath you, and he lets out a low groan into your mouth. "You’re so fucking hot. I want to see what else that pretty mouth can do." His fingers trace your jaw, thumb brushing over your lower lip. "Get on your knees for me. Show me what that mouth is capable of."
Your heart stutters because his words hit you hard — part excitement, part panic. On your knees. Sucking him. You’ve never given a blowjob before.
You slide slowly off Sunghoon’s lap and drop to your knees, your hands shaking as you reach for the button of his jeans and try to pull down the zipper. Reality crashes over you: you’re on your knees for the hockey team captain, about to give him head with zero experience.
His eyes narrow the moment he notices the tremor in your hands and the hesitation in your movements. A low, cruel, mocking laugh escapes him. "Wait." He reaches down, gripping your chin with two fingers, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "You’ve never done this before, have you?"
Biting your lip, you shake your head. "No… I’ve never done it."
Sunghoon’s expression doesn’t soften with pity. Instead, it sharpens with something darker — satisfaction mixed with pure control. He releases your chin and leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, looking down at you like you’re a player who needs to learn the drill.
"Good, I like honesty. So you’re going to listen carefully. I’m not in the mood for guessing games tonight. You want to learn? I’ll teach you, and you follow my instructions. Got it, dol?"
You swallow hard and nod again.
"Words," he commands, cold and firm. "Use your words when I ask you something."
"Yes," you repeat, your voice steadier this time. "I understand."
He gives a small nod of approval. "Good girl. Now unzip me."
You obey, slowly pulling the zipper down. Sunghoon lifts his hips slightly to help you tug his jeans and boxers low enough to free his cock. It springs out, hard and heavy, the tip already glistening with precum.
His hand rests on the back of your neck, not pushing, but guiding. "Look up at me when I’m talking to you. Don’t just stare at it like you’re lost. Wrap your hand around the base and feel the weight."
Your fingers are still trembling as you obey, curling them around his thick length. He feels incredibly warm and heavy in your palm, the skin smooth over steel. You give an experimental squeeze, watching his reaction.
"Yes, just like that," he praises coolly, like he’s directing a teammate on the ice. "Now stroke up and down. Keep a firm grip. That’s it— good. Don’t be shy."
You pump your hand firmly, finding a rhythm that makes Sunghoon’s breathing grow a little deeper, but he keeps complete control, his eyes locked on you the entire time. "Spit on it, get it nice and wet. Good girls make it sloppy."
You gather saliva and let it drip onto the head, using your hand to spread it all over his length. The wet sounds that follow make your face burn even hotter, but the way his cock twitches in your grip sends a shiver through you.
His fingers twist into your hair with enough force for you to feel it, then he pulls you closer to his throbbing length. "Now use your mouth. Start with the head, wrap your lips around it, no teeth. Suck gently while you swirl your tongue."
Your heart races as you wrap your lips around the tip, tasting a man’s cock for the first time — slightly salty, but surprisingly good. Your tongue moves in slow, hesitant circles, trying to find the rhythm you think will feel best for him.
"Eyes up," he orders sharply. "Look at me while you do it. That’s good, but take me deeper now. Relax your throat, don’t force it. Move your head slowly and keep stroking the part you can’t reach."
You open wider and take him deeper. It feels strange at first — the stretch of your jaw, the way he fills your mouth, the occasional gag when you go too far, causing tears to gather at the corners of your eyes.
"Relax your jaw and breathe through your nose. Faster with your tongue on the underside. Use your hand in sync with your mouth."
You follow every instruction carefully, the clear commands making it easier despite your inexperience. The room fills with wet, obscene sounds as your mouth works on him — licking, sucking, and your hand sliding smoothly along his cock. Sunghoon’s thighs tense under your free hand, and his voice grows a little rougher, though still tightly controlled. "Hollow your cheeks more when you pull back. Take me deeper whenever you can, I want to feel the back of your throat."
Pushing yourself, you take him deeper until your nose brushes his stomach, triggering a light gag. You try to hold it, but end up sliding back up, gasping for air. A thick string of saliva connects his cock to your mouth, and his grip tightens in your hair, the slight sting only heightening the moment.
"Not bad for your first time. Now focus on the head again. Suck harder while you move faster. Yeah— just like that. You’re gonna make me come if you keep going."
You throw yourself into it completely, determined to get better so you can do this perfectly for Heeseung one day. Your hand and mouth work together, faster and sloppier now, until Sunghoon’s breathing turns heavier and his abs tighten visibly.
"Fuck— keep your eyes on me," he growls, his voice dropping lower. "I’m close. When I come, you swallow. Every drop. Understand, doll?"
You murmur something unintelligible around him, the vibration drawing a low groan from deep in his throat. His hand guides you with a little more firmness now as his hips begin to rock, meeting your mouth with each movement. His dominance is intoxicating — no endless questions, no overthinking, just clear and commanding direction that pushes you exactly where he wants you.
With one last deep thrust into your mouth and a low groan, he comes. Hot spurts hit the back of your throat as you swallow desperately, trying not to gag while you take everything he gives you, your hand still gently stroking him through it.
Sunghoon holds you there for a few more seconds before finally releasing your hair and letting you pull back. You release his cock with a wet pop, your lips swollen and glistening. He looks down at you with that same cool satisfaction, his thumb brushing a stray string of saliva from your chin. "Clean every inch with your tongue."
You nod and obey, licking him carefully with slow, deliberate strokes of your tongue until he’s completely clean.
"Good," he says, his voice satisfied. "Now come here."
He pulls you up from your knees and back onto his lap, guiding you into a deep kiss that’s slower and less aggressive than the one against the wall, yet still possessive. His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting himself on you, letting out a soft groan against your lips.
"You did well for your first time," he praises quietly as he pulls back, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. "A little messy, but eager. I like that. You look even better with that flushed face after sucking me off, doll."
The praise sends a warm flutter through your stomach, and before you can respond, Sunghoon moves, flipping you onto your back on the bed. He hovers over you, one hand braced beside your head while the other slides up your thigh, pushing your dress higher. "You’ve never sucked a cock before… so I’m going to ask. Are you a virgin?"
You shake your head quickly. "No, I’m not."
A flash of relief crosses his face, quickly replaced by a darker, almost predatory smile. "Good. That’s actually perfect. It means I don’t have to be gentle with you." His hand glides along your inner thigh, spreading your legs apart. "I hate holding back."
Two of his long fingers press against your entrance, finding you already soaked from everything that’s happened. He pushes your panties aside and slides them inside you in one smooth motion. His fingers are noticeably longer than Jake’s, reaching places that instantly make your breath hitch.
"Fuck, you’re so tight. You sure you’re not a virgin, doll? Because you’re squeezing me like one." He starts moving right away, no slow buildup, no endless questions about how you feel, just his fingers thrusting in a steady rhythm — faster and deeper — while his thumb rubs firm circles over your clit.
You gasp, arching your back off the bed as his long fingers reach so deep that they stroke that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust. "Sunghoon—" you moan, clutching his shoulders.
"Eyes on me." His free hand pins your wrists above your head while the other moves faster, scissoring his fingers to stretch you further. He watches every reaction on your face, adjusting the intensity until you’re writhing beneath him. "You’re already soaking my hand, doll. Come on, let me feel you come around my fingers."
He adds a third finger, pushing deeper and curling harder against that spot while his thumb presses firmer circles on your clit. The combination is overwhelming — fast, deep strokes that tighten the pleasure in your core until your thighs start trembling around his hand.
"I… oh God…" Your words dissolve into a moan as the orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clench hard around his fingers, pulsing with every wave, but Sunghoon doesn’t slow down, he keeps going until you’re shaking and gasping, hypersensitive and completely spent.
Only then does he pull his fingers out, bringing them to his lips for a quick taste while he looks down at you with dark satisfaction. "You taste so good, doll."
Without wasting another second, he shoves the rest of his pants and boxers down and climbs fully on top of you. "Arms up." You lift them without hesitation and he pulls your dress off, tossing it aside somewhere in the room. Your bra follows immediately, exposing your breasts to the cool air. In the same motion, he squeezes one firmly, his thumb brushing over your nipple until it hardens, then leans down to suck it, teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp.
"These are perfect," he murmurs against your skin before moving to the other. His free hand yanks your panties down your legs in one swift pull, leaving you completely naked beneath him. Sunghoon sits back for a moment, his eyes slowly roaming over your bare body with cool appreciation. "Perfect. You’re perfect, doll."
He positions himself between your spread thighs, one hand gripping your hip while the other guides his cock to your entrance. Only then do you realize there’s no condom. This is going to be the first time you feel someone raw. "Wait, Sunghoon…"
"I’m clean," he says dryly, reading your hesitation perfectly. "We’re good." He doesn’t say anything else, simply pushing forward and sinking the thick head of his cock into you with one precise thrust.
With no latex barrier, you feel every inch of him — hot, hard, and completely bare. The stretch is more intense than it was with Jake, deeper and fuller in a way that makes your walls flutter and clench tightly around him. A low moan escapes you as he sinks even deeper, filling you completely until his hips press flush against yours.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Sunghoon groans, closing his eyes for a brief second before locking his gaze on your face again. He doesn’t give you much time to adjust, starting to move with long, deep strokes that brush every sensitive spot inside you while he watches your every reaction, every gasp, fucking you with firm control.
You grab onto his arms, your nails digging crescent moons into his skin. "Sunghoon… it’s so deep like this." Every thrust knocks the air out of your lungs.
He kisses you hard again, swallowing your moans as his hips snap forward faster, growing more intense. The pleasure feels stronger than your first time because there’s nothing between you, but after a few minutes, Sunghoon suddenly pulls out, leaving you empty and whimpering.
"On your knees. Face down, ass up," he orders. "I need to go deeper. I want to watch this ass bounce while I fuck you stupid."
You get on all fours, feeling incredibly exposed with your ass up and back arched. The vulnerability of this new position you’ve never tried before sends a fresh wave of nerves through you. Sunghoon kneels behind you, his hands spreading your cheeks slightly as he lines himself up again.
He thrusts into you hard, burying himself to the hilt in a single stroke. The new angle lets him go incredibly deeper, the head of his cock pressing against spots you didn’t even know existed. You cry out, fingers clutching the sheets tightly. "Oh my God, it’s so much deeper like this."
Sunghoon groans in satisfaction. "That’s exactly what I wanted." His hands grip your hips firmly as he starts fucking you with more intensity. His thrusts are relentless, hips snapping forward with a force that makes your entire body shake.
One hand slides up your back and fists in your hair, pulling your head back sharply and arching you even more. "Fuck, look at you taking it so well like this."
His other hand comes down hard on your ass, a firm slap that makes the flesh jiggle and sting deliciously, drawing a loud moan from you. He spanks the other cheek, then again, alternating while he keeps pounding into you.
Without a condom, you feel every vein, every ridge, the way his cock stretches and fills you completely with every powerful thrust. "This ass looks even better when it’s moving for me," he says, landing another harder slap. Your arms tremble, barely able to hold you up as the pleasure builds hotter and tighter in your core. "You’re clenching so fucking hard. You like it rough like this, don’t you?"
"Yes," you moan, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. "Harder, please."
He obeys without hesitation, fucking you with punishing force that makes the bed creak beneath you and his balls slap against you with every deep stroke. "Touch yourself, rub your clit while I fuck you."
You slide a hand between your legs, circling your swollen clit. Another sharp slap lands on your ass, the sting spreading hot across your skin and making you clench hard around him. "Fuck, do that again, doll." He delivers one more firm spank, then squeezes the reddened flesh possessively. "You’re dripping all over my cock, soaking the sheets like a good girl."
His words, combined with the relentless rhythm, the sharp tugs on your hair, the stinging slaps, and the overwhelming depth of this position, push you straight over the edge. Your orgasm hits hard, your walls pulsing and contracting tightly around his bare cock as waves of pleasure crash through you. You moan loudly into the mattress, your whole body shaking.
Sunghoon doesn’t slow down at all — he keeps fucking you through your orgasm, chasing his own. "I’m gonna come," he growls. After a few more deep, powerful thrusts, he buries himself to the hilt and groans as he fills you with hot pulses of cum, spilling deep inside you for the first time. The sensation is new and overwhelming — warm, wet, and so intimately raw that it makes your mind spin.
Sunghoon collapses beside you on the bed and pulls you against his chest, lazily stroking your back. "You should come to our parties more often. Those basketball idiots don’t deserve someone like you at their parties."
────────
Not everything is about the plan. After all, you are still in college — assignments pile up and deadlines approach without caring about your personal obsessions. When the professor pairs you with Jay for the next project, you don’t think much of it, you just need to finish the work as quickly as possible so you can get back to your plan.
The second-floor library was strangely quiet that night. Most students have already left, and the few who remain are buried in their books. You and Jay sit at a secluded table in a corner, surrounded by tall bookshelves that give you a sense of privacy.
Jay sits across from you, looking effortlessly attractive in a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his veiny forearms. You’ve been discussing the project for nearly an hour, but the conversation slowly drifts away from the assignment and becomes more personal.
"You always seem so put-together," you say with a small smile. "Even during finals week. How do you do it?"
Jay chuckles softly, leaning back in his chair. "Coffee. A lot of coffee… You’ve been glowing lately. There’s a new confidence in class. It looks good on you."
Your cheeks flush slightly. "Thank you. I’ve been pushing myself out of my comfort zone lately."
"I noticed and it’s honestly really attractive." The compliment is light, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. Jay’s voice drops lower as he continues. "You know, it’s easy to talk to you… and easy to look at, too."
You laugh, quickly glancing around to make sure no one is nearby. "You’re not bad yourself. Always so polite and charming... It’s kind of dangerous."
His smile widens, and then he reaches across the table, lightly brushing his fingers against yours. The touch is gentle but sends a spark through you, making the library feel even quieter now, like the rest of the world has disappeared and only the two of you remain behind the shelves.
Before you can overthink it, Jay leans forward over the table. "Come here."
You meet him halfway, and the kiss starts soft and sweet at first — a gentle brush of lips that quickly deepens as he tilts his head. Jay kisses with care and skill, one hand gently cupping your cheek while the other rests on the table for balance. It feels good, warm, and surprisingly right.
When he finally pulls back, breathing a little faster, he whispers. "No one’s around… Come sit with me."
He gently pulls you around the table and onto his lap. Your legs part over his thighs, the skirt riding up as he settles you against him and wraps one arm securely around your waist.
"Jay," a nervous laugh escapes you as you glance at the shelves surrounding you. "We’re in the library… Someone could walk by any second."
"It’s okay," his hand traces slow circles on your lower back while the other rests on your thigh. "Look around, it’s almost empty, and the shelves block most of the view." He leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, then along your jaw. "We’ll be quiet. I just want to be close to you for a little while… if you’re okay with it."
Sitting on his lap like this in a public place feels incredibly bold, but Jay’s gentle confidence makes your hesitation melt away. "It’s okay," he whispers, kissing you again, slower this time. "Just relax. It’s just us right now."
You kiss him back, and it doesn’t take long for your hips to start moving almost on their own, grinding against the growing bulge in his jeans. The friction feels good even through your clothes — a slow, delicious rhythm that builds heat between your legs. Jay lets out a low hum of approval against your mouth, his hand squeezing your thigh encouragingly.
"That’s good… really good." His hips continue moving in deliberate circles, letting you feel him hardening beneath you — the thick outline pressing right against your core.
The kiss deepens as he traces your lower lip with his tongue, seeking entrance, and you open for him. "Yeah… keep doing that." One of his hands slides up to your cheek, tenderly stroking it with his thumb, while the other guides your hips, helping you find a rhythm that feels even better. "You’re driving me crazy doing this… it feels so good."
Jay pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again, his gaze is dark with desire but still incredibly gentle. "Do you want to do this here?" he asks, thumb caressing your hip. "We don’t have to… but if you’re comfortable, I need you right now."
You quickly glance around — there’s still no one nearby. "Yes." The certainty in your voice surprises even you. "I want to."
He pulls you into another kiss, deep and reassuring, before reaching between your bodies to push his pants and underwear down just enough to free himself. His cock springs out — long and incredibly thick, the head flushed red and already glistening. It’s bigger than you expected, heavy, with prominent veins.
Your eyes widen in surprise and nervousness. "Jay… you’re really big. I don’t know if I can take all of that."
He cups your face with both hands, noticing your nerves. "Hey… look at me. We don’t have to rush anything, and if it’s too much, we stop, I promise." A soft, caring expression takes over as thumbs gently stroke your cheeks. "We’ll go really slow… I’ll make sure it feels good for you."
You nod, biting your lower lip. "Okay. I trust you."
One hand stays on your waist while the other guides his thick cock, rubbing the head against your soaked panties, teasing your entrance through the fabric. "Move your panties to the side for me."
With trembling hands, you hook your fingers under the fabric and pull it aside. The cool air hits your wet folds, making you shiver. Jay helps by tugging your skirt up until it’s bunched around your waist. Only then does he position himself at your entrance — the blunt head of his cock brushing against your slick pussy. "When you’re ready."
You take a deep breath and start sinking down, the stretch is immediate and intense — almost too much. His thickness slowly pushes your walls apart as you lower yourself, inch by inch. A soft moan escapes your lips from the burning sensation and the way he fills you so completely. It’s deeper than anything you’ve felt before, his huge size presses against every sensitive spot inside you.
Jay groans, tilting his head back for a moment. "Fuck… you’re so tight. Take it slow, angel. You’re doing so well."
You pause halfway, breathing deeply to ease the burning feeling. It’s almost uncomfortable, but the raw heat of him, bare and deep, sends sparks of pleasure through the stretch. Determined, you continue lowering yourself until you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried to the hilt inside you, your walls fluttering as they try to adjust to his enormous length.
For a few seconds, you stay still, adjusting to the feeling of his cock pulsing deep inside you. Jay’s arms wrap around you, holding you close as his lips brush your temple. "You’re perfect, angel. Taking me so well... Tell me when you want to move."
You start experimenting, at first moving simply — rising and sinking as you’ve seen in porn videos. The motion drags him along your walls, creating delicious friction, but it feels a little awkward. It feels good for him, his groans make that clear, but it isn’t quite hitting the right spots for you.
"This is incredible," he says honestly. "But I want you to feel good too. You don’t have to just go up and down. Grind on me… roll your hips in circles, and when you bounce, use your whole body. Let me guide you, angel."
He gently guides you with his hands on your hips, and you follow, shifting from simple up and down movements to a smooth, rolling grind. The change is instant — his thick cock now rubs perfectly against your front wall, pressing hard into that sensitive spot with every circle of your hips, making a sharp moan escape you. "Yes, just like that. Feel how deep I am when you roll your hips? Now try bouncing while you do that."
You combine the movements — lifting and dropping while rolling your hips on the way down. Each bounce takes him incredibly deep, his cockhead dragging against places that make your toes curl. The stretch remains intense because he’s almost too big, creating a delicious burn.
Jay groans louder, and one hand slides up to cradle the back of your neck as he kisses you again. "Yes… fuck, you’re riding me so well. Look at you, angel." His other hand stays on your hip, guiding you to bounce harder.
The praise makes you bolder. You brace your hands on his shoulders for balance and start bouncing faster, moving up and down while grinding. Jay is so big that you can feel his cock reaching deep into your stomach, creating a profound pressure that makes your head spin.
Your newfound confidence makes him throb inside you as Jay starts thrusting up to meet you, the added force sending waves of pleasure through your core. "Deeper… like this," you moan.
Jay’s hands roam all over your body — squeezing your ass, caressing your breasts over your shirt, pulling you down for more kisses. He doesn’t take full control, letting you lead while offering guidance and praise. "That’s it… move just like that. You’re getting so wet for me. You look so beautiful riding my cock."
The pleasure builds quickly, a deep, spreading heat that consumes your entire body. You lean forward, changing the angle, and cry out when you hit an even more sensitive spot. Jay groans, holding you tighter. "Right there? Good girl. Keep going, take what you need."
You moan loudly, burying your face in his neck as the orgasm crashes through you violently. Your walls clench uncontrollably around his cock, pulsing and milking him while you keep bouncing, pushing him over the edge right after. He groans, thrusting his hips up against you as he cums deep inside, filling you with hot, thick pulses of cum.
Once you both come down, Jay lifts your chin and kisses you again, his tongue moves lazily against yours, savoring the moment. You kiss him back, feeling his cock still twitching softly inside you.
"You were incredible, angel," he whispers between kisses, smiling against your lips. "So beautiful riding me like that."
Jay’s hands run gently down your back, his gaze dropping to your chest. "Can I see more of you?"
You nod, and he doesn’t waste a single second, pulls your blouse up just enough to free your breasts. The cool air of the library makes your nipples harden instantly. "Perfect,” you sigh softly as he takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.
He sucks harder, then grazes his teeth over the sensitive bud with a careful bite that makes you moan and clench around his cock, which is still buried deep inside you. Switching to the other breast, he gives it the same attention — kissing, licking, sucking, and biting. You roll your hips slowly in his lap, savoring the way his cock twitches inside you every time he sucks harder.
"You’re so sensitive here," he murmurs against your skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses between your breasts. "I could spend hours doing this."
You let out a soft, needy sound, holding his head closer to your chest as he continues marking you with his mouth — sucking hard enough to leave hickeys that will remind you of this moment later. He’s getting hard again inside you, growing thicker and longer, pressing against your sensitive walls.
"Fuck, you’re making me hard again. The way you squeeze around me while I suck on these… you’re driving me crazy." Suddenly, Jay’s arms tighten around you and, in one swift movement, he stands up.
"Jay—!" you gasp, clutching his shoulders.
"I’ve got you," he says carefully, sitting you on the edge of the table with his cock still buried deep inside you. "I need to move for a bit. Okay, angel? Tell me if it’s too much."
Before you can respond, he starts fucking you at his own pace — deep, powerful thrusts that make your body shake on the table. The angle is perfect, making his thick cock drags along every inch of your walls with each stroke.
You try to stay quiet, but the pleasure is overwhelming, and moans far too loud for the silent library keep escaping. "Ah— Jay!"
He quickly covers your mouth with his hand while continuing to thrust firmly. "Shh, angel." His hips snap forward a little harder, testing your silence. "You have to stay quiet… someone might hear."
Even with his palm muffling your sounds, the deep thrusts still pull muffled but audible moans from you. Jay glances around nervously, unsure what to do because stopping isn’t an option, so he makes a quick decision. He pulls his cock out, reaches for your panties, which was pulled to the side this whole time, tugs the wet fabric free and then he pushes it between your lips.
"I’m sorry," he whispers immediately as he slides back inside you with a deep thrust. "I hate doing this… but I don’t want us to get caught, okay?"
You nod slightly, eyes watering from the intensity, but the gag works — your next moan comes out completely muffled. "You’re being so good for me, so wet and tight." Jay returns to your breasts, sucking on one nipple while he continues fucking you senseless.
His pace quickens, hips snapping harder against yours as he tries to keep control. The risk of getting caught and the feeling of you around him push him closer to the edge. "Cum for me. I’m close too… let go, angel."
You scream into the gag, your body shaking in his arms as you cum hard, and the sensation of your walls pulsing around him sends Jay over the edge right after. He buries himself as deep as possible and cums inside you with hot, intense pulses.
Still buried inside you, he strokes your hair and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You were incredible… so responsive and beautiful."
A shy smile tugs at your lips. "You were incredible too."
He runs his thumb across your flushed cheek. "I’d love to do this again someday… if you want. Maybe somewhere more private next time, so I can take my time with you."
Biting your lower lip, you nod. "I’d like that. A lot, actually."
That night, back in your dorm, you realize something: during those hours with Jay, you didn’t think about Heeseung even once because you were completely lost in the moment — in his gentle touches, his warm voice, and the way he made you feel so good.
────────
The basketball team has just won a home game. The crowd is still roaring and the players are celebrating in the middle of the court. Sitting in the stands, you spot Ni-ki — Heeseung’s close friend and teammate. He’s younger than the others but carries himself with an easy, playful confidence.
When the court finally quiets down and the players start heading toward the locker rooms, you walk calmly through the internal hallways of the building, following the path that leads to the locker room area. To avoid being seen by Heeseung, you hide behind a pillar. From there, you have a perfect view of anyone leaving the locker room, while people passing through the hallway are unlikely to notice you.
A few minutes pass before the door opens. A group of players steps out, talking loudly, and Heeseung is right in the middle of them. You press yourself tighter against the pillar, holding your breath as he walks by, laughing at some joke.
More athletes leave after that until the hallway falls completely silent. Knowing most people have already gone and the risk of seeing Heeseung has passed, you finally step out of your hiding spot and walk to a brighter, more visible part of the corridor, right near the door.
When Ni-ki comes out, his eyes land on you almost immediately. He slows his steps, tilting his head with clear interest and a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "No way. You actually waited? Most girls chase after the captain." He stops right in front of you, looking you up and down without even trying to hide it. "Damn, you look dangerous."
You feel a flutter in your stomach but smile back at him. "I thought the guy who kept stealing the ball and grinning like he owned the court deserved some attention tonight."
Ni-ki laughs, running a hand through his damp hair. "You’re bold, huh? I like that." He steps a little closer, his eyes sparkling with playful curiosity. "So what’s your deal? Are you a basketball fan or did you just come here to make my day way more interesting?"
There’s a seductive tease in his voice — arrogant but fun. He clearly likes what he sees and isn’t shy about showing it. "Because if you’re here for me, you should probably tell me your name before I start calling you ‘mine’ in front of the whole team."
If you play this right, he might casually mention you to the team later, and Heeseung would hear your name and maybe get curious. But if you mess up and come across as too eager or awkward, Ni-ki could joke about it in the locker room and ruin everything before you even get close. Still, you trust yourself. "It’s y/n."
"y/n," he repeats, like he’s savoring the sound. "Nice. It suits you. So, y/n… do you always wait outside the locker rooms after games looking this good, or did I just get lucky today?"
"Only when the player on the court is showing off like he’s trying to impress someone."
Ni-ki moves even closer. "Ah, so you were really watching me? Careful, I might get too cocky." He tilts his head, his eyes tracing your face before dropping to your lips. "Or maybe that’s exactly what you want. To make me arrogant enough to do something about the pretty girl who showed up just for me."
His gaze continues sliding down from your lips, appreciating the way your top hugs your body. Suddenly, Ni-ki glances around, checking if anyone is nearby. The hallway is empty. Without warning, he grabs your hand with a grin. "Come with me for a second."
He pulls you into the locker room, but not near the entrance. He keeps guiding you deeper inside, past a small entryway and around the corner of the main area, where he presses your body against the wall. The tension that has been building finally snaps. Cupping your face with one hand, he kisses you with raw hunger — his lips moving against yours with confidence as his tongue teases yours, deepening the kiss almost instantly.
He pulls back just enough to breathe, a cocky little smirk on his face. "Fuck… you taste even better than I imagined."
He presses you harder against the wall and slides one thigh between your legs, creating just enough pressure to make you gasp into his mouth. "You’re so fucking addictive." His hands slip under your top, warm palms gliding over your skin and sending shivers through you.
Suddenly, Ni-ki drops to his knees in front of you, looking up with an even more mischievous smile. "I’ve been thinking about this since I saw you waiting outside." His hands move quickly, unbuttoning your jeans and tugging them down along with your panties. He lifts one of your legs, hooking it over his shoulder, opening you up to him.
Ni-ki presses his mouth against your pussy like he’s starving for it — voracious and rough. His tongue licks long, wet stripes from your entrance up to your clit before swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Oh my God — Ni-ki…" you moan, one hand flying to his messy hair.
He moans against you, the vibration shooting pleasure straight up your spine. "You taste so good." His tongue dives inside you, licking and savoring every inch like he can’t get enough. Messy and eager, his lips suck on your folds before focusing back on your clit with small, hungry sucks and licks.
He eats you out like he wants to memorize every taste, every reaction — switching between long, slow licks that make your toes curl and faster movements that force you to bite your lip to stay quiet.
"Ni-ki… that feels so good." He looks up at you while his mouth works, eyes gleaming with satisfaction and desire, clearly loving the way you’re falling apart for him.
Ni-ki murmurs in response and doubles his efforts, sucking your clit into his mouth while his tongue moves fast. "Ni-ki… fuck, right there," you gasp, fingers tightening almost painfully in his hair as your hips start grinding against his face.
He slides two fingers inside you while his tongue keeps working your clit, curling them instantly against that perfect spot.
Your breathing turns ragged, your thighs trembling uncontrollably around his head. "I… I’m gonna—" you try to warn him, voice breaking, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he sucks harder on your clit and pumps his fingers faster.
Your whole body locks up for a second before a violent tremor runs through you. Your pussy clenches hard around his fingers as your clit pulses wildly against his tongue.
Ni-ki groans proudly against you, licking you through every wave, addicted to the way you fall apart. He keeps going until you’re whimpering, oversensitive and shaking. Only then does he finally pull back, lips glossy and swollen. "Shit, you come so beautifully."
He rises to his feet with a satisfied smirk and pulls you into another kiss so you can taste yourself on his tongue, his hands grip your waist, pressing your body against his. "You’re so sweet. I could eat you every day, all day long."
You open your mouth to respond, but the metallic click of the main door handle cuts through the air.
You both freeze and footsteps echo on the tiled floor, accompanied by a familiar voice humming something.
It’s Jungwon — another teammate, the point guard.
"Shit." Ni-ki quickly grabs your hand and pulls you toward the shower area with its open stalls and curtains. Yanking one curtain aside, he guides you inside, and presses your back against the cold tiled wall.
The footsteps grow louder, closer. "Hey, is anyone still in here?" Jungwon’s voice sounds casual, like he heard something and decided to check.
Ni-ki presses a finger to your lips, leaning in so close that his warm breath brushes your ear. "Don’t make a sound," he whispers, almost inaudible.
Your heart pounds hard against your ribs, but Ni-ki doesn’t seem bothered at all. In fact, the risk seems to excite him even more. Jungwon’s footsteps get closer, and right at that exact moment, Ni-ki pushes two fingers inside you without any warning. Your eyes widen and a sharp gasp almost escapes before you bite down hard on your lip.
He curls his fingers instantly, stroking that sensitive spot deep inside you with ease, a small mischievous smirk on his face as he watches your reaction. He pumps them slowly at first, then faster, while his thumb presses firmly against your swollen clit.
Trembling violently, you bury your face in his neck, desperately trying to muffle the moans threatening to spill out. "Shhh," Ni-ki whispers right against your ear, but his fingers don’t stop — deep, curling thrusts that make your knees buckle. "You’re squeezing me so tight. Does almost getting caught turn you on?"
You nod frantically and bite down on his shoulder through his shirt to stay quiet as Jungwon moves just a few meters away. Ni-ki’s thumb presses harder on your clit while his fingers thrust faster, making your thighs shake and your walls flutter uncontrollably around him as you fight to stay silent. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes from the effort.
Jungwon’s voice echoes again, closer this time. "I heard noises coming from here. Who the hell is in here?"
Noticing Jungwon getting closer, Ni-ki curls his fingers harder, rubbing your sweet spot relentlessly while his thumb works your clit in fast, precise circles. You dig your nails into his back, letting out a silent scream against his neck as pleasure peaks. Your pussy clenches violently around his fingers, dripping as waves of spasms run through you.
Finally, Jungwon’s footsteps retreat. The door opens and closes again. The second it does, Ni-ki pulls his fingers out and kisses you hard, swallowing the broken moan that finally escapes you.
Without breaking the kiss, he tugs down his basketball shorts and boxers in one quick motion, freeing his hard, thick, flushed cock. It’s already leaking at the tip from how turned on he is after eating you out and fingering you.
You reach for him without thinking — and without really knowing what you’re doing — wrapping your hand around his length and stroking slowly at first. You feel the heat and the way he pulses hot against your palm as your thumb brushes over the head, spreading the precum. "You’re so hard… I can feel how much you want this."
"Yeah? Then let me have you." He quickly helps you pull your jeans and panties all the way down your legs, kicking them aside before pressing you against the cold tiled wall of the shower stall. One hand grips your thigh as he lines himself up and with one smooth thrust, he pushes inside, burying his cock deep into your still-sensitive pussy. The stretch makes you gasp at the sudden, overwhelming fullness after everything that’s already happened.
He fucks you against the wall with firm, deep thrusts, his hips snapping forward while he holds you in place. "Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good," he groans, burying his face in your neck as he drives into you harder, each movement pressing you against the tiles. "So wet and tight."
"Ni-ki… you’re so deep," your voice trembles with pleasure as he hits that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. "Don’t stop… it feels so good."
He keeps going like that for a while, fucking you firmly against the wall with his hands gripping your ass. But soon the position isn’t enough for him, with a low grunt, he suddenly lifts you as if you weigh nothing, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist. The new angle lets him sink even deeper, and you let out a muffled cry as he starts bouncing you on his cock, thrusting up with hungry movements that make your breasts bounce inside your top.
"Yes, like that… it feels so good," you moan while he fucks you in the air, your back pressed against the wall for leverage as he holds you like you’re weightless. The sensation is intense, every thrust hits so deep it makes your head spin and your toes curl.
"Open your mouth." He brings two fingers to your lips. "Suck them for me. I want to feel that pretty mouth while I fuck you."
You part your lips obediently and take his fingers into your mouth, sucking them eagerly while he keeps thrusting into you. His cock twitches at the feeling of your warm mouth around his fingers, the taste of you still lingers on them from earlier, making you moan around them.
"That’s it," he says, eyes locked on your face as he watches you suck his fingers while bouncing you on his cock. "You look so fucking hot like this. Keep sucking just like that."
You do exactly that, swirling your tongue and sucking harder as he drives deep inside you, clearly losing himself in how good it feels.
You pull off his fingers with a wet pop and gasp, "Ni-ki… I’m so close again. I’m gonna come."
With a mischievous smirk, he pushes his fingers back into your mouth, moving them in time with his cock as he fucks you harder against the wall. "Then come for me again. I want to feel you squeezing my cock while you suck my fingers."
The dirty words combined with his relentless pace finally push you over the edge. You moan loudly around his fingers as your legs tighten around his waist. Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes through you, making your entire body shake in his arms.
Ni-ki groans at the feeling of you coming and his thrusts turn erratic. He buries himself as deep as possible and comes hard inside you, pulsing with hot spurts while holding you firmly against the wall.
After a moment, he finally lowers you gently until your feet touch the floor again, but he doesn’t pull out immediately, he stays nestled inside your heat, kissing you slowly and almost lazily, like he isn’t ready to end the moment yet. "Fuck… that was incredible. And honestly? That was the best post-game sex I’ve ever had. No joke. I’m gonna be thinking about this pussy for days."
You let out a soft giggle, cheeks burning. "Really? I don’t think I’ll be able to walk properly after this."
Surprisingly gentle, he laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek before finally pulling out slowly. Both of you hiss at the loss. "That’s actually great. Means you’ll be thinking about me too. When can we do this again? After the next game, or maybe after every practice?"
────────
The basketball team had crushed their biggest rival that night, and the victory party at the massive off-campus house is going to be loud, chaotic, and packed with people. This is the moment you’ve been carefully preparing for with every practice session and every new experience. Tonight is the night.
You choose a bold black dress that clings to your body like a second skin, short enough to show off your legs and thighs, with a neckline that reveals just enough to be daring. Your hair is styled exactly the way you like it, and your makeup is flawless, enhancing your features in a way that makes you feel powerful. When you look in the mirror, you look like someone who belongs in Heeseung’s world.
When you arrive at the party, the music is already pulsing through the walls, bodies are moving everywhere, and the air smells like alcohol and sweat. Your eyes scan the room until they find him.
Heeseung is sitting on the large couch in the main room like he owns the place — which he basically does. Two girls are practically draped over him. One is half in his lap, her hand resting possessively on his chest, while he has one arm casually around the other girl, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her shoulder as he talks to his teammates.
Spotting Ni-ki nearby, chatting with some of the other players, you walk toward him with confident steps because you aren’t going straight to Heeseung. No — you’re going to make him come to you. Ni-ki’s eyes light up with immediate recognition and interest.
"I can’t believe you’re here," he says with a grin as he pulls you into a side hug that lasts a second longer than necessary. "You look dangerous tonight. Come here, I want you to meet some of the guys."
You laugh softly and stay close to him, letting him introduce you to some of his teammates, including Jungwon. Your cheeks heat up as you remember that moment in the locker room, and when you glance to the side, Heeseung is watching — the girls are still around him, but his eyes are locked on you, following every move you make.
Ni-ki leans in and whispers in your ear, "You know, I still can’t stop thinking about that day in the locker room. Jungwon almost catching us… My fingers buried so deep inside you while you tried so hard not to moan. I’ve been replaying that shit all week."
Your face flushes instantly and the memory makes your thighs press together in a rush of heat. "Ni-ki…" you whisper back, half embarrassed and half turned on, "you can’t just say that here."
You’re too focused on Ni-ki to notice Heeseung pushing the girl off his lap, standing up, and walking over with his usual confidence. He stops right in front of you, his gaze shifting between you and Ni-ki, who is still grinning widely.
"What’s so funny over here?" Heeseung asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice. "You two look like you’re sharing secrets."
You freeze for a second before answering quickly, a little too fast. "Nothing."
"Nothing? Come on. Nothing stays hidden from the captain, especially when my teammate is standing here grinning like an idiot and you’re looking all flustered." He steps closer, his full attention now on you. "Gonna tell me what got you so worked up, pretty?"
Ni-ki’s playful smile fades, replaced by something closer to jealousy as he watches the captain focus entirely on you. "We're just messing around. It's fun talking to y/n, that's all."
Heeseung looks you up and down slowly, taking in the way the dress hugs every curve of your body. "Want a drink? I can’t have you standing here empty-handed."
"Yeah… I’d like that."
Ni-ki’s jaw tightens as he glances between the two of you, clearly not happy about being sidelined, but he knows better than to push it with Heeseung. "Catch you later, y/n," he says, giving you one last look filled with a mix of jealousy and desire before disappearing into the crowd.
Now it’s just you and Heeseung.
He guides you toward the kitchen, his hand lightly brushing your lower back. “So… y/n,” he says, savoring your name like he’s testing how it feels on his tongue. "You show up at my party looking like sin, talking to my boy while wearing this little dress that makes everyone wonder what you’re hiding underneath." A mischievous smile curves his lips as his eyes flick to your mouth for a moment. "You gonna let me find out, or are you just here to tease?"
You feel yourself getting wet just from the way he’s looking at you — that hungry stare and confident tone making your panties stick to you. "Talking about what I’m hiding under this dress already? We just got to the kitchen… but yeah, I might let you discover it." Your voice comes out bold because you refuse to sound nervous now, after waiting so long for this moment.
Deep down, all you can think about is how badly you want him to stop talking and just fuck you senseless.
Heeseung’s smile deepens, a flash of satisfaction crossing his face. He glances around to make sure no one is paying too much attention, then leans in even closer, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks. "There’s an empty room upstairs. Third door on the left, go up in a few minutes. I’ll follow right after so no one notices."
He pulls back, sliding his hand slowly along your waist before disappearing into the crowd. You wait a few minutes, taking a sip of your drink to calm your nerves, but it barely helps — the ache between your legs only grows with every passing second. After exactly five minutes, you head up the stairs and find the third door already slightly ajar. You step inside with shaky, anticipatory breaths.
Moments later, Heeseung appears. He closes the door firmly behind him and locks it.
The second the lock clicks, he’s on you.
There’s nothing gentle about the way his mouth crashes against yours in a hungry, intense kiss. He bites your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth before sucking it into his mouth, then does it again harder just to hear you whimper.
His hands slide down to grip your ass firmly under the dress, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls you flush against him, letting you feel the hard outline of his cock through his pants.
"Fuck, this ass feels even better than it looks in that dress," he growls against your mouth, squeezing harder and spreading your cheeks. The kiss deepens, his tongue dominating yours while he continues kneading and groping your ass like he can’t get enough.
Heeseung’s mischievous smirk returns when he hears you moan into the kiss. He doesn’t break it as he walks you backward toward the bed. When the back of your knees hit the mattress, he pushes you down and climbs on top of you.
A string of saliva connects his lips to yours when he pulls back to strip your dress off in one quick motion, leaving you in just your bra and panties, his eyes darkening with lust as he takes in every inch of your body.
"Look at you… such a pretty little slut, all dressed up for who? For me?" His hands make quick work of unclasping your bra and tossing it aside before he drags your panties down your legs and throws them away too, leaving you completely naked and exposed for him.
With a firm hand, Heeseung spreads your legs wide, getting a perfect view of your glistening, dripping pussy. "Already so wet for me, but it’s not enough." Suddenly he leans down and spits directly on your pussy, the warm string of saliva hitting your clit and dripping down your folds. The sight makes his rock-hard cock twitch inside his pants so he does it again, spitting a second time, then spreads it with two fingers, rubbing the wetness all over. "Gonna get this pussy nice and sloppy for me."
You moan loudly at the filthy feeling of his saliva sliding through your folds — hips jerk while your pussy clenches around nothing.
Heeseung drags his tongue slowly up your pussy, licking from your entrance to your clit in one long, deliberate stroke that makes you gasp. When you do, he laughs against you — the vibration sending shivers through your entire body.
"You taste so fucking good," he says before diving back in. He eats you out messily, his tongue swirling around your clit before dipping down to push inside you, savoring every drop of your arousal mixed with his spit.
Your hands fly to his hair, gripping it tightly as the overwhelming sensation hits you. "Heeseung, that feels incredible…"
He keeps going, licking deeper inside you while his nose brushes against your clit, but suddenly he pulls back, looking up at you with a devilish smirk. Without warning, he brings his hand down in a sharp, wet slap against your soaked pussy, the sting mixed with pleasure makes you cry out loudly. "Holy fuck, Heeseung."
"You like that too?" He slaps your pussy again, harder this time, hitting your folds and swollen clit. "Such a dirty girl, getting even wetter when I slap this pretty pussy."
"Yes— God, yes," you moan, thighs trembling. "It burns, but it feels so good at the same time."
That encourages him to give you another slap and right after, he buries his face between your legs again, sucking hard on your clit while two thick fingers push inside you. He fingers you mercilessly, curling them to hit that sweet spot over and over as his tongue works your clit. "Fuck, you’re so tight. Taking my fingers like a good little slut for me."
He spits on your clit again, spreading the saliva with his tongue before adding a third finger, stretching you deliciously while pumping them faster and harder. All you can do is moan, your thighs shaking violently around his head. "Heeseung, I’m getting close… please don’t stop."
He obeys, alternating between long licks, hard sucks on your clit, deep thrusts of his fingers, and firm slaps that make your pussy burn and throb. "I’m gonna come," you moan, arching your back off the bed.
"Then come for me." Your entire body tenses, your walls clenching hard around his fingers as spasms rip through you. You come hard with a loud cry, thighs trembling violently around his head. But Heeseung doesn’t stop, he keeps licking and fingering you through every pulse, drawing out your pleasure until you’re oversensitive and whimpering.
When he finally pulls back with glossy lips and chin, he kisses you again so you can taste yourself on his tongue. "Get on your knees for me," he commands against your lips. "I want that pretty mouth around my cock."
It’s time to put into practice what Sunghoon taught you about sucking dick.
With a confident little smile, you gently push him so he lies on his back. Once he does, you position yourself between his legs and reach for his belt, slowly unbuckling it. He lifts his hips to help as you pull his pants and boxers down, freeing his cock. It springs up thick, hard, and leaking precum, making your mouth water at the sight.
You wrap one hand around the base of his cock, lean in, and press a soft kiss to the tip before dragging your tongue slowly along the underside, drawing a shaky breath from Heeseung. "That’s it… suck me like a good girl."
Feeling confident, you take him into your mouth and slowly suck on the head, swirling your tongue around it while savoring the precum there. Then you take him deeper, bobbing your head as your hand strokes what doesn’t fit, your movements growing smoother as you find the right rhythm. "Fuck… your mouth feels so good."
His praise encourages you to take him even deeper until the head brushes the back of your throat, making you gag. A wet choking sound escapes as your eyes water, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you stay there for a moment, breathing through your nose the way Sunghoon taught you, before sliding back up and sinking down again.
Heeseung grabs your hair and tightens his grip as a needy groan escapes his throat. "Shit, that’s… ahh—"
You keep going, moving your head faster and sucking harder while your hand twists around the base, making his thighs tense and another desperate moan slip out.
It’s hard to believe that Heeseung, the guy everyone on campus talks about, the one with a reputation for being experienced and dominant, is moaning and whimpering under your mouth. It’s unexpected, but not in a bad way, especially because your pussy clenches around nothing every time he makes those sounds.
You pull back a little, sucking on the head while stroking him faster with your hand, which draws another broken moan from him. "Yes— fuck, yes, baby."
Wanting to pull even more reactions from him, you take him deep into your mouth again, gagging softly around his length as your head moves faster. Saliva drips down his entire shaft and onto your hand, making everything slick and messy.
Heeseung’s moans grow louder, breathier, and more frequent. "Fuck, I… I’m gonna come. Please don’t stop… I’m so close, baby."
You moan around him and suck harder until his thighs start to tremble. "Fuck… fuck—!" His voice cracks as the orgasm finally hits him.
His cock pulses hot and hard on your tongue, releasing thick jets of cum into your mouth. You try to swallow as much as you can, continuing to suck him through every last spasm and moan.
When you finally pull off his cock with a wet pop, Heeseung moves fast. He flips you onto your back and hovers over you — the whimpering guy from moments ago is gone. Now his eyes are filled with raw hunger.
"I’m not done with you yet." With a firm hand, he spreads your thighs, exposing your dripping pussy, begging to be fucked. "Now I’m going to fuck you properly."
You blink at him, confused and surprised by the sudden shift because seconds ago he was moaning and almost begging under your mouth, and now he’s trying to act like the dominant guy everyone talks about.
He lines up the head of his cock at your entrance, rubbing it up and down your wet folds, coating himself with your arousal. Without warning, he thrusts into you hard in one brutal stroke, stretching you around his thick length.
The sudden fullness makes you cry out loudly, your back arching off the bed. "Oh my God — Heeseung!" The stretch feels so good, especially while you’re still sensitive from coming earlier.
He fucks you hard and deep from the very first thrust, his hips slamming against yours with relentless strokes that make the bed creak beneath you. "Fuck, this pussy is so wet and greedy," he groans, leaning down to capture your lips in a messy kiss while one of his hands wraps around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. He holds it for a few seconds before loosening his grip, letting you gasp for air. "Look at you, sucking my cock like a good little slut. You love being used like this, don’t you?"
"Yes, fuck, yes," you moan, your voice breaking under the pressure of his hand. "You’re so deep inside me. It feels so good, Heeseung."
He chokes you again, a little harder this time, and the mix of pleasure and lack of air makes your head spin deliciously.
Heeseung pushes your legs back toward your chest, folding you in half so he can fuck you even deeper. The new angle makes his cock hit that perfect spot inside you with every thrust, causing your eyes to roll back.
When he finally releases your throat, you gasp desperately for air, moaning loudly as he keeps hitting that sweet spot over and over. "Please… harder. I can take it."
Heeseung lets out a needy groan at your words, his hips stuttering for half a second before he gives you exactly what you asked for. He fucks you harder, rougher, driving his cock into you with punishing depth. The sound of skin slapping against skin grows louder and wetter as he pounds into you, pressing your body into the mattress.
Just as your next orgasm starts to build, he suddenly slows down, keeping his cock buried deep inside you but barely moving. "Not yet. You don’t get to come until I say so, slut."
You whine desperately, trying to lift your hips for more friction. "Please, Heeseung… I need to come. I’m so close already. Don’t stop— I’ve been so good."
He smirks wickedly, shaking his head as he starts thrusting with slow, teasing rolls of his hips. "Beg better than that, baby. I want to hear how badly you need it."
You’re a complete mess underneath him, tears of frustration and pleasure gathering in your eyes. "Please… I’ll be so good for you. Just let me come on your cock, please. I need it so bad— I can’t take this teasing anymore."
Heeseung groans, but the sound turns into a needy moan as your walls clench around him. He starts fucking you harder again, his hand returning to your throat. But he isn’t done teasing you yet, so he edges you two more times — bringing you right to the brink with deep, brutal thrusts only to slow down and leave you whimpering and empty.
On the third time, you’re crying and babbling nonstop. "Heeseung… please, I can’t take it anymore. It hurts so good… I need to come. I’ll do anything you want. Just let me come on your cock."
"Fuck… you look so pretty when you beg," he groans, his voice rough with his own need to come. He thrusts into you with brutal force, tightening his hand around your throat again while his hips move relentlessly. "Come then. Come all over my cock like the desperate slut you are. Let me feel you."
Your entire body seizes underneath him. Your walls clamp down hard around his thick cock, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as you soak his cock and the sheets beneath you, screaming his name.
Heeseung fucks you through your orgasm, groaning as your pussy milks him. "Fuck, that’s it. Good girl… you’re squeezing me so tight." A few more brutal, deep thrusts and he buries himself as deep as possible, coming hard inside you with thick, hot pulses.
Lying under him with your heart racing and breath coming in short, heavy bursts, his cock still buried deep inside you, your mind keeps returning to the sounds he made minutes ago — those desperate, broken moans and whimpers when you had him in your mouth.
Something about hearing him lose control like that makes heat pool low in your belly. After a few seconds of hesitation, you gather your courage, place a hand on his chest, and push him gently but firmly. "My turn to break you now. I want to hear you moaning under me." You say as you swing your leg over his waist, straddling him.
Heeseung’s breath hitches as his cock, already hardening again beneath you, shows just how much he likes the shift in power. "Baby… fuck," he gasps, his hands reaching for your hips.
"Don’t touch unless I say so." You slap his hands away, then wrap your fingers around his thick cock, stroking him slowly and teasingly while rubbing the head up and down your cum-soaked pussy. "Look at you. The captain of the basketball team. Everyone on campus thinks you’re this untouchable stud who ruins girls and never gets ruined."
You sink down onto him in one slow motion, taking every inch until your ass meets his thighs — the stretch making both of you moan. You stay completely still, clenching around him just to watch him squirm, a mischievous smile spreading across your face. Then you start moving your hips slowly, rubbing your clit against his pelvis. "Ahh— fuck… please don’t tease me."
You begin riding his cock properly, using everything you learned — deep movements, tight squeezes, and powerful bounces that make your ass slap against his thighs and your clit grind deliciously against his pelvis.
"Fuck, baby," he hisses, his hands flying to your hips, but you grab his wrists and push them away. You lean down so your breasts brush against his chest and his cock hits even deeper. "Don’t touch. Just take this pussy like a good boy. Got it, captain?"
Heeseung’s cock twitches hard inside you at your words, and a low, surprised moan escapes his throat. "Shit… yes," he groans, clearly turned on by the way you dominate him. "Use me, baby. Fuck me."
So this was the real Heeseung? A whimpering mess when someone takes control. All that arrogance on the court, all those girls throwing themselves at him, and here he is — moaning and shaking underneath you like he can’t handle how good your pussy feels around him.
You watch every reaction closely, mesmerized by the way his lips part, his breath coming in short, needy gasps every time you bounce and grind on him, and the broken moans slipping from his throat when you clench hard around his cock.
'God, he really is a whimperer,' you think, amazed by the sight as you bite your lip and ride him harder. "All that reputation and you’re crying because a girl is riding you. That’s kind of pathetic… but so fucking hot."
Heeseung lets out another broken moan, his hands desperately gripping the sheets since you won’t let him touch you. "Fuck— you’re killing me. Your pussy feels too good, I can’t… ah— slow down a little, please."
You laugh softly and keep riding him mercilessly, clenching around his cock rhythmically, rolling your hips in tight, dirty circles while bouncing faster and faster, making sure he feels every movement. "You’re going to take this like a good boy, captain."
Heeseung moans louder, letting his head fall back against the pillow as his body trembles beneath you. "Shit, you’re so mean. Please don’t stop. Your pussy is squeezing me so tight— fuck, I’m losing my mind."
You lean back, bracing your hands on his thighs so he has the perfect view of his cock disappearing into your dripping pussy. "Look how deep you are," you moan, rolling your ass on him in small, obscene movements. "You like watching me use your cock like this, don’t you? Such a big, strong captain… and now you’re moaning under me."
The pleasure and the delicious sight of the untouchable Heeseung moaning and whimpering push you toward your own orgasm. "I’m gonna come," you gasp, leaning down to kiss him messily while still bouncing on his cock. "And you’re going to come with me, crybaby."
Heeseung moans loudly, the nickname making his cock twitch hard inside you. "Fuck… I’m coming!" His hips buck up to meet your bounces as thick jets of cum spill deep inside you once again.
You follow right behind him, your orgasm crashing over you as you keep riding him through both of your peaks, milking every last drop from his cock.
"Don’t tell anyone about this," he begs breathlessly, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "That I’m… like this. Please. This is our secret, okay? Just between us."
────────
Jake’s hands grip your hips tightly, you clench around his cock and roll your hips in those filthy, perfected movements. His broken moans fill the room as you bounce faster, grinding harder against him. Suddenly, your phone starts ringing on the nightstand, Ni-ki’s name lighting up the screen.
You slow your movements, reaching over to answer the call while still sitting on Jake’s cock. "Hey," you sigh, slightly breathless.
Jake groans, his hips twitching desperately. "Babe… please don’t stop," his voice is full of need. "I was so close… keep going, please."
You cover his mouth with your hand to silence him to continue the call. Ni-ki sounds frustrated on the other end. "You free right now? We lost tonight and I’m pissed. Come to my dorm… I need that pretty pussy to help me forget this shit game."
"I can come over soon," you say, trying to keep your voice steady while rolling your hips on Jake. "Give me a bit."
"Good. Don’t take too long. I really need to fuck you," Ni-ki says before hanging up.
You drop the phone and start riding Jake again. "Sorry about that. Now be a good boy and come for me.
Later that night, you’re on all fours in Ni-ki’s dorm as he fucks you hard from behind. His hips slam against your ass with deep, aggressive thrusts.
In the middle of a particularly rough stroke, he suddenly asks, "I saw you leaving the hockey rink the other day. What the hell were you doing there?"
You moan and push back to meet his thrusts. "None of your business."
Ni-ki’s hand comes down hard on your ass with a loud smack. The sharp sting makes you clench around his cock and moan louder. He slaps you again, even harder. "Wrong answer."
"Again," you moan, arching your back. "I like it."
Ni-ki laughs darkly and keeps spanking you repeatedly while fucking you harder, his palm leaving red marks on your ass as he pounds into you until both of you come hard.
The next afternoon, you’re on your knees in Jay’s dorm with his huge cock stretching your mouth as you suck him. Jay has one hand gently stroking your hair, looking down at you with proud eyes.
"You’re doing so well. Taking me so deep like this… you look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth, angel."
You relax your throat, taking him as deep as you can, sucking harder, using every technique you’ve learned. Jay groans, his fingers sliding gently through your hair.
"Fuck… you’re incredible. Such a good girl for me. Keep going, you’re making me feel so good."
He keeps praising you the whole time, soft and sincere, until he finally comes down your throat with a soft, shaky groan, lovingly stroking your cheek as you swallow everything.
When you leave Jay’s room, still a little flushed and disheveled, you run straight into Sunghoon in the hallway. He looks at you, then at Jay’s door behind you, and his expression darkens instantly.
"What the fuck were you doing in there?"
You don’t answer, trying to walk past him, but he doesn’t let you. Sunghoon grabs your wrist and pulls you into his own dorm, slamming the door behind you. He fucks you hard and jealous, bending you over the desk, taking you from behind with brutal, possessive thrusts.
"You’ve been fucking everyone lately, haven’t you?" he growls, driving deep and angry. "Greedy little slut."
You moan loudly, loving the jealous tone in his voice.
During the rough thrusts, your phone starts vibrating on the desk — it’s Heeseung sending message after message.
Heeseung:
I can’t stop thinking about that night with you.
Come over.
Baby, answer me.
I know you’re getting these.
Don’t play games with me.
Stop fucking ignoring me.
Sunghoon notices the constant buzzing, picks up the phone, uses your face to unlock it, and opens the chat. With a dark, possessive smile, he takes a photo of your flushed, teary-eyed, moaning face while he fucks you hard from behind and sends it to Heeseung with the caption: "She’s busy."
He tosses the phone aside and fucks you even harder after that.
────────
You finally understand why Heeseung never wants to be tied to just one person. Having options is liberating. Jake, Sunghoon, Jay, Ni-ki, and Heeseung — each one offers something different: different rhythms, different kinds of pleasure, different versions of yourself. You don’t have to choose just one because you can have them all. Now you understand Heeseung’s lifestyle — it’s freeing.
And you realize you want that freedom too.
Thank you for reading! and a special thanks to everyone who asked to be tagged <3
@nithxhoon @megamatt43 @ameliaxantanova @mychemicalrawrmance @pradacava @2dolcee @wonwisps @aeri-xo @leavinglifecrazy @honeymoonave777 @cherrywOn @ruby-0021 @sosocide
𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. — heeseung lee oneshot.
summary. You spend your 20s exactly how you planned it to be—fun, fearless, and unattached. Until your mom introduces you to her old high school friend’s son, who looks exactly like the man you spent one reckless night in another city convincing yourself you’d never see again.
pairing. heeseung x fem!reader
content / warnings. one night stand (flashback, brief), producer!hee, unemployed!reader, the moms are in this, one mention of jungwon, maeumi, nicknames!, protected p in v, oral (fem rec.), fingering, riding, nipple play, lmk if i miss anything xx
w.c. 14k
JUNE 2025
“My head’s throbbing.”
You mutter as you drive to your parents house. Your mom mentioned about inviting her old friend over, who lived across the country, in another city saying something about her staying over for a few days.
You sigh at the thought, blaming the pounding in your skull on last night’s cocktails with your girl friends and the tiny hairs still sticking to your damp shirt from a morning shower. You’re not ready for polite family small talk, questions about your job or relationship—or the endless commentary about how “you should really be settling down.”
You pull over your parents’ street, already noticing a whole luggage outside the house.
“Seems like she’s here.” You mutter to yourself, as you got out the car, quickly looking at the mirror to make yourself presentable, and totally not hangover.
Grabbing your bag, you try to summon your most convincing “I’m totally together” expression. If your mom’s friend was anything like she described, this was going to be a lot of chatter, a lot of smiles, and probably a few pointed questions about your love life that you weren’t ready to answer.
You knock on the door. “I’m home!” you annouce, and almost immediately, you hear your mom’s footsteps scampering over to open it. You chuckle at her cuteness—always so excited to see you, even when you barely had your life together.
“Finally!” she exclaimes, practically dragging you inside. “You’re just in time—she’s already here!”
You groan inwardly, bracing yourself for endless small talk and awkward introductions, but couldn’t help smiling at your mom’s enthusiasm.
When you came inside the house, in the living room, a middle-aged lady—seemingly the same age as your mom—sits on the couch, her posture polite but relaxed. She looks around with a warm smile that could make anyone feel immediately welcome, though your hungover brain mostly registered her as an interruption to your carefully curated morning recovery.
“She must be Mrs. Lee,” you say, glancing at your mom, who was practically glowing with excitement. You couldn’t help but grin despite yourself—your mom always had a way of lighting up a room, and apparently, it was contagious.
“Oh, my, she had grown up to be such a fine young lady!” Mrs. Lee greets with a smile, hugging you warmly.
You return the hug with a polite squeeze, your head still pounding from last night and your brain screaming too early for this kind of energy. “Thank you,” you mutter, secretly hoping your slightly messy hair and damp shirt weren’t too obvious.
“I’ve been telling her so much about you!” your mom chimes in, practically beaming. “All good things, of course.”
You smile faintly, wondering exactly how much she had told her friend about your chaotic, fun-filled nights out with friends—and mentally prepare yourself for a gentle roasting session disguised as small talk.
But Mrs. Lee just look at you softly, a motherly smile plastered on her face, as if she could see right through all the bravado you were trying to put on. It was the kind of smile that made you feel both warm and a little… exposed.
“What about your boy, Lee?” Your mom asks and Mrs. Lee claps her hands as if remembering a completely important detail.
“Right, right!” She laughs. “I told him to buy us some fruits at the supermarket! We can’t stay here and come empty-handed.” She smiles, in which your mom joking hits her arm. “What a hassle! But, thank you anyway,”
Mrs. Lee looks over to you. “I feel like you and my son could be such good friends too!” She grins, in which you awkwardly smile.
Great.
Another one of your mom’s friends trying to set you up with their good-for-nothing sons.
“Honey, help her get her luggage inside!” Your mom says, walking to the kitchen, already arms in arms with Mrs. Lee. You nod before walking towards the entrance.
That’s when you heard a car pull up outside.
The sound of tires against the pavement cut through the room, followed by the soft thud of a door closing. Your mom glanced toward the window almost instinctively, her face lighting up even more than before.
“Oh, perfect timing,” you can hear Mrs. Lee’s voice from inside. “That must be Heeseung!”
You decide to pay no mind to it, as you walked over to carry her luggage.
“Shit, what does she pack in here?”
“Clothes enough for two weeks.” A voice answers your little mutter to yourself.
A familiar one—deep, oh so soft, and far too recognizable—making your breath hitch as you stand straight.
“Do you feel good? Am I making you feel good?”
“Let go for me, baby.”
Your mind suddenly betrayed you, replaying the words spoken in that same voice two months ago—back when you’d been careless, impulsive, and not so smart.
Heat rushed to your face as the memory collided with this current moment. You turn to look and there he was, still wearing the soft eyes you had been so enchanted by that night.
Evan. Evan Lee. At least that’s what he introduced himself as.
The same eyes that had studied you under dim hotel lights now widened, just barely, before masking it with something polite and unreadable.
Mrs. Lee came out before you could even say anything, her voice bright and proud as she introduced you. You barely registered the words, too focused on the way he straightened beside her.
He nodded, polite and distant, the kind of courtesy reserved for strangers. “Nice to meet you,” he said smoothly, without a flicker of recognition in his eyes.
Then he smiled—easy, effortless—before turning to follow his mom into the house. He picked up her luggage, handling it with practiced care as he walked past you, close enough that you caught the faint scent of his cologne.
He didn’t even glance back.
So he didn’t remember.
You had both been drunk that night, after all.
…
Dinner is already laid out by the time everyone gathers around the dining table a few hours later. The familiar smell of your mom’s cooking fills the room—warm, comforting, painfully normal for a moment that feels anything but.
You take a seat near the edge of the table, choosing distance over comfort. Across from you, Heeseung pulls out his chair and sits down smoothly, posture relaxed, expression polite. To anyone else, he’s just a guest—your mom’s friend’s son, well-mannered and quiet.
To you, he’s the man whose voice still lingers in the back of your mind—whose hands had memorized you in the dark, whose lips had left impressions you were foolish enough to think time would erase.
Conversation flows easily between your mom and Mrs. Lee, laughter spilling over shared memories from high school, old teachers, stories you’ve heard a hundred times before. You nod at the right moments, pushing food around your plate, forcing yourself to eat despite the tight knot in your stomach.
“So, Heeseung,” your mom says brightly, turning to him, “Are you okay with the spare room? Her brother hasn’t been home since his marriage, and she doesn’t want to give her childhood room for guests,” Your mom turns to you and snickers.
“That’s because I visit you and dad all the time, I still need a room here.” You groan softly, while Mrs. Lee laughs.
“Yes, ma’am. The room is just nice. Very well-kept.” Heeseung smiles at her.
“Well, that’s good,” she continues. “By the way, you two are around the same age. You should show him around a bit, don’t you think? This isn’t a city he always comes by.”
Your grip tightens around your utensils.
Before you can answer, Heeseung looks up—briefly, carefully—meeting your eyes for the first time since earlier. There’s no recognition on his face. No spark. Just polite interest.
“If she’s free,” he says simply.
If you’re free.
You force a smile. “Yeah. Maybe.”
The lie settles between you, heavy and unspoken.
Under the table, his foot shifts slightly—close enough to make your breath hitch, close enough to make you wonder if it’s accidental. He still doesn’t look at you. Still doesn’t acknowledge the past.
But your body remembers a different name.
And for the first time since he walked past you without a second glance, you realize something unsettling.
Heeseung might not remember you.
But Evan would have.
After dinner, the house settles into silence faster than you expect.
Laughter fades. Doors close softly. The hallway light dims until only a thin strip glows beneath bedroom doors. You lie awake longer than you should, staring at the ceiling you’ve known your whole life, listening to the unfamiliar rhythm of another presence in the house.
You tell yourself it’s nothing.
Just an old insignificant memory overstaying its welcome.
Eventually, thirst wins.
You slip out of bed, careful not to let the floorboards creak, padding your way toward the kitchen. The house smells faintly of detergent and leftover dinner, comforting in a way that almost makes you forget why your chest feels tight.
Almost.
The kitchen light is already on.
You freeze in the doorway.
Heeseung stands by the counter, sleeves rolled up, a glass of water in his hand. His hair is slightly tousled now, stripped of the careful neatness he wore earlier. He looks… different. More real. More like the man you left sleeping behind hotel curtains two months ago.
He looks up when he hears you.
“Oh,” he says quietly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake anyone.”
“You didn’t,” you reply, voice steadier than you feel. “I just—couldn’t sleep.”
He nods, accepting that without question. No tension. No recognition. Or maybe too much control to show either.
You grab a glass from the cupboard, deliberately choosing the one farthest from him. The tap runs. Too loud in the silence. You focus on the sound, on anything but the awareness of him standing only a few feet away.
“Your mom’s cooking was really good,” he says after a moment. “She didn’t exaggerate.”
You let out a small breath of a laugh. “Her cooking is the best.”
A pause.
Then, softer, almost absent-minded: “You mentioned earlier you don’t live here?”
“Not anymore,” you answer. “I moved to my own apartment a year ago.”
“Oh,” he says.
The word hangs between you.
You take a sip of water, finally glancing at him. He isn’t looking at you—his attention fixed on the counter, jaw relaxed, expression unreadable. If he remembers, he gives nothing away. If he doesn’t, then this ease is genuine.
You hate that you can’t tell which one hurts more.
“Well,” you murmur, setting the glass down. “Good night.”
He looks up then, meeting your eyes fully for the first time since dinner.
“Good night,” he says.
Still nothing. No crack in his voice. No hesitation. Just calm, polite distance.
You walk past him toward the hallway, careful not to brush his arm, careful not to slow your steps. Behind you, you hear him turn off the light.
In the darkness of your room, you lie awake again—heart louder now, thoughts sharper.
You were the one who left that morning.
You were the one who chose silence.
And yet somehow, standing in your parent’s kitchen, it feels like he’s the one holding all the control.
…
Morning comes too soon.
Sunlight filters through the curtains, thin and pale, landing across your face like an accusation. For a moment, you forget where you are—until the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen reminds you that you’re back in your parents’ house. And that you aren’t alone.
You sit up slowly, rubbing at your temples. The night had offered no answers. Just silence, politeness, and the unbearable calm of not knowing.
By the time you make it to the kitchen, your mom is already bustling around, apron tied, hair pulled back. Mrs. Lee sits at the table, sipping tea, looking far too refreshed for someone who traveled across the country.
“Morning,” your mom chirps when she sees you. “Perfect timing.”
You hum in response, reaching for a glass of water.
“Could you help Mrs. Yang walk her dog later?” she continues casually. “You remember—next door. You used to do it all the time when you lived here. Besides, little Jungwon is in Uni now, so no one is there to help her.”
You pause.
“Maeum? Yeah,” you say. “I can do that.”
Mrs. Lee’s face lights up. “Walking outside right now would be so refreshing,” she says warmly. Then, almost as an afterthought, she turns toward the hallway. “Heeseung!”
Your stomach tightens at the sound of his name.
He appears a moment later, sleeves rolled up again, hair still slightly damp like he’s just washed his face. He looks… awake. Calm. Completely unaffected. “Hm?”
“You should go with her,” Mrs. Lee says easily. “It’ll be good for you to get some fresh air after traveling.”
Heeseung blinks once, then nods. “Sure.”
Sure.
Your mom smiles, clearly pleased. “Perfect! Two birds with one stone.” You force a smile of your own, even as your pulse starts to pick up. “Yeah. No problem.”
Heeseung glances at you—not searching, not curious. Just attentive.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he says.
As you step outside together a few minutes later, the morning air feels too crisp, too quiet. The street looks the same as it always has. Familiar. Safe.
And yet, walking side by side with him, you’re painfully aware of the space between you—and how little it would take to close it.
You’re the one who left. It’s a one-night stand.
You remind yourself of that as you head toward the neighbor’s gate.
So why does it feel like this walk might be the first step toward something you can’t walk away from again.
Heeseung kneels slightly as Maeum charges toward him, tail wagging like it could knock him over.
“He’s… lively,” he says, keeping his voice casual as Maeum circles him, sniffing, then jumping up in excitement. A low chuckle escapes him, and you feel your chest tighten unexpectedly.
“Yeah, Maeum’s a handful,” you reply, gripping the leash before he decides to chase a squirrel or something worse. “But he’s harmless… mostly.”
Heeseung brushes a hand along Maeum’s back. “Mostly is good.”
Maeum barks happily, spinning between the two of you. There’s a brief moment where the dog seems to notice the tension radiating off both of you, but of course, he can’t name it.
“Shall we get going?” you ask, starting toward the sidewalk.
Heeseung falls into step beside you, careful not to crowd, careful not to overstep. Close enough to notice the little things: the way you tense when Maeum yanks, the faint crease in your brow, the subtle sway of your hair in the morning sun.
The street is quiet. Early birds call from the trees. Leaves rustle under your shoes. Maeum dashes ahead, then back, sniffing everything in sight.
“So…” you begin, trying to sound casual, “long drive yesterday?”
He shrugs. “Enough to make me remember why I prefer flights.”
You laugh softly. “Fair enough. It is kind of chaos on the road here sometimes.”
Silence falls for a few steps, filled only with Maeum’s padding and your own heartbeat.
Then Maeum stops abruptly, sniffing at a patch of grass right between you and Heeseung. The leash jerks. You stumble forward slightly, and his hand reaches out before you can think, steadying you.
Fingertips brush.
A fleeting touch—but it’s enough. Enough to spark memory, enough to make your stomach twist.
Heeseung doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t say a word. He takes Maeum’s leash and keeps walking.
And that’s the worst part.
Because whether he remembers—or is pretending—you have no idea.
And it leaves the quiet hanging between you like a question that refuses to be answered.
Maeum slows near the corner, distracted by something only he seems to find interesting. You stop with him, shifting your weight as you wait.
Your fingers curl in on themselves without you noticing.
A slow fist.
Tight enough that your nails press into your palm.
Heeseung’s gaze drops.
Not immediately. Not obviously.
But it lingers just long enough.
“You do that often,” he says.
You look up. “Do what?”
He nods toward your hand. “That.”
You follow his eyes, startled, and force your fingers open. Faint crescent marks bloom red against your skin.
“Oh,” you say lightly. “I guess I clench my hand when I’m waiting.”
“Or when you’re holding back,” he replies, tone even. Too even.
The street feels quieter suddenly.
You laugh, trying to brush it off. “You’re very observant.” He doesn’t smile. Not quite.
“Hard not to notice,” he says.
And just like that—
Your mind betrays you.
Dim light. Your back against unfamiliar sheets.
His voice low, close, asking something you can’t quite remember the words to—only the way your hand had curled then too, nails biting into your palm as you nodded instead of answering.
You remember looking down afterward.
The half-moon marks.
The way he’d gently pried your fingers open, thumb brushing over the indents like he was committing them to memory.
The leash tugs.
You blink, pulled back into the morning air, the quiet street, Maeum wagging his tail impatiently.
Heeseung is already looking ahead again, expression unreadable.
“You good?” he asks, as if nothing had happened.
You nod, heart racing, and start walking again.
But your palm still tingles.
Both of you continue walking with Maeum tugging on his leash once in a while, before stopping infront of a convenient store near the park.
“I’ll buy us drinks, anything you like?” He asks. You look at him as you shake your head. “Anything’s fine.”
He nods, entering the store while you wait outside while Maeum settles at your feet. Through the glass, you watch him move with easy familiarity— scanning the shelves without hesitation.
He came out a few minutes later with two drinks in his hand. Americano for him, and another for you.
Green Grape Ade.
“Green Grape Ade?” His voice rings in the loud bar music, looking at you with precise judgement, while you mockingly glare at him.
“What’s wrong with it?” You ask, voice slightly loud trying to drown out the music at the bar. He smiles.
“You’re original.” He clinks his glass againts yours, the ice chiming softly over the music.
“I just prefer sour drinks. Especially from the convenient store.” You drink as your gaze turn to him. He’s already staring at you.
He hums. “That’s why your face so sour?” He teases in which you gasp, mock-offense.
He laughs, before shaking his head. “That was a lie. You might just be the sweetest girl I’ve ever met.”
The memory fades as quickly as it came.
You’re back outside the convenience store, the morning air cool against your skin. The bottle in your hand is cold, condensation slick against your fingers.
Heeseung is already walking ahead with Maeum, Americano in hand, posture relaxed like he hasn’t just reached into something you never gave him permission to keep.
You take a sip. It tastes exactly how you like it. How you were imagining it when you were admant on telling Heeseung or Evan it was your favourite at the bar.
And for the first time since you woke up that morning, you wonder if leaving first had really meant leaving anything behind at all.
You catch up to them, glancing at Heeseung. He has a questionable smug look on his face.
“What?” You ask. He shrugs before looking at you.
“I have a lot of things I remember about you.”
…
A few hours pass.
The afternoon drifts by slowly, measured in the ticking of the clock and the occasional sound of movement elsewhere in the house. You spend most of it in your room, half-lying on your bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone without really reading anything.
Every so often, you hear his voice. Muted through the walls. Calm. Easy. Laughing lightly at something your mom says.
It shouldn’t bother you, but it does.
When hunger finally wins over avoidance, the sun is already dipping lower in the sky. The house smells faintly of reheated food, warm and familiar. You take a breath before leaving your room, practicing a neutral expression in the mirror.
The kitchen is quieter now. You’re just about to turn the corner toward the kitchen when you hear your mom speak.
“…She’s been a little off today,” she says, voice gentle. “Probably tired. Or avoiding something.”
You pause without meaning to. Heeseung answers after a beat. “She does that.”
Your chest tightens instantly.
Your mom chuckles softly. “Does what?”
“Pulls back,” he says, careful. “When she doesn’t know how to react yet.”
Silence. Then the faint clink of a spoon against a bowl. “You sound like you know her pretty well,” your mom says lightly.
Another pause. Short. Measured.
“I had an impression,” Heeseung replies. “A while ago.”
An impression.
Your fingers curl at your side.
“Huh,” your mom hums. “That’s funny. She actually does leaves impressions on people,”
There’s a smile in Heeseung’s voice when he answers. “Yeah. She does.”
Your mom moves on easily, talking about dinner, about how long Mrs. Lee plans to stay. The conversation drifts, harmless again.
But you don’t move because impressions aren’t made in passing. They’re made when someone sees you up close. When you let them.
You step back quietly, retreating before either of them can notice you there. Back in your room, you sit down slowly, heart still racing.
He didn’t say you’d met.
He didn’t say when.
But he didn’t say you were strangers either. And somehow, that middle ground feels far more dangerous.
A soft knock echoes through your room a few minutes later.
“Hey… you awake?” Heeseung’s voice—calm, controlled, but just close enough to make your heart stutter.
You freeze. Your chest tightens, your pulse spiking. Act normal. Just act like you weren’t eavesdropping.
You smooth your hair with a trembling hand, blink rapidly, and open the door. “Yeah… just woke up,” you say, voice a little too bright, trying to sound casual.
Heeseung steps into the doorway, just enough to glance around your room. His eyes flick over you—not accusatory, not teasing—just aware. The way he looks at you makes the air between you feel suddenly heavy, like it’s charged with electricity you both can’t ignore.
“Your mom’s calling,” he says softly. “Everything’s ready.”
You nod quickly, gripping the doorframe as if it can anchor you. “I’m… not that hungry,” you murmur.
Heeseung tilts his head, that faint, knowing curve of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Uh-huh,” he replies, voice smooth, steady, and sharp enough to cut through your attempts at calm.
You step aside, but your foot catches on the edge of the rug. You curse under your breath, forcing a laugh. Too loud. Too sharp.
He doesn’t comment. He doesn’t need to. The silence itself feels deliberate, heavy. The space between you is so tight that you feel him even when he doesn’t touch you.
“I’ll be eating downstairs,” he finally says, straightening, eyes lingering just long enough to make your stomach clench.
“Okay… see you there,” you say, breath uneven, heart hammering.
He nods once, easily, and leaves, closing the door softly behind him.
The click echoes like a verdict.
You press your back against the door, sliding down slowly, hands trembling.
He knows I was listening.
He remembers… more than he should.
And he didn’t say a word.
The thought alone makes your stomach twist.
You straighten abruptly, forcing yourself to move. Down the stairs. To the dining room. To the table.
Every step is a battle between calm and the chaos churning under your skin.
Because you know tonight, nothing is going to feel casual. Not with him. Not after this.
The whole time during dinner, you caught him staring at you. Shamelessly at that, gave you a sheepish smile when you eye him suspiciously. He’d move his leg closer to yours, it’ll bump a few times, but he doesn’t pull away.
After dinner, you volunteer on doing the dishes. Your mom and Mrs. Lee’s voices fade into the living room, laughter and chatter blending together.
You take a steadying breath and move to the sink, rolling up your sleeves. Warm water runs over your hands, steam curling around your wrists. For a second, it almost feels normal. Almost.
Then you sense him before you hear him.
Heeseung steps beside you, quiet as a shadow. You tense instantly, shoulders stiff, fingers tightening around a plate.
“Need some help?” he asks softly, tilting his head. Not teasing, not accusing. Just calm, measured.
“I’ve got it,” you reply quickly, eyes trained on the suds, forcing the tone casual.
He doesn’t insist. He simply picks up a stray plate, moving closer than necessary, letting his hands brush yours ever so slightly as he rinses it. You flinch, heart hammering, but he doesn’t comment, doesn’t linger. Just present.
The silence stretches, heavy, almost oppressive. Every splash of water, every clink of a dish, echoes too loudly.
You scrub a pan a little harder than needed, trying to focus on anything else—the warmth of the water, the smell of garlic, the mundane rhythm of washing—but his quiet presence keeps threading through every thought.
He moves another plate, sets it down. Your hands brush again.
You feel your pulse spike, your chest tightening. Every subtle movement, every glance he doesn’t make—it’s all charged, all deliberate.
The kitchen is small. Empty. Safe. Except it isn’t. Not with him here.
You swallow hard, scrubbing away your nerves as the quiet stretches on, aware that he notices everything, even the things you think he can’t.
And somehow, that makes it impossible to breathe normally.
The sponge squeaks softly as you scrub, the rhythm steady but your thoughts anything but. You’re just about to reach for another plate when he speaks again.
“You know,” Heeseung says, evenly, like he’s commenting on the weather, “you’re not very good at pretending.”
Your hand stills.
“…Pretending what?” you ask, eyes fixed on the sink.
“That you weren’t listening earlier.” He sets a plate onto the rack, movements unhurried. “In the hallway.”
Your chest tightens. You swallow. “I wasn’t—”
He cuts you off gently. “You were.” Not accusing. Just factual. “You always stop breathing when you do that, though your eyes give it away, that you’re pretending everything’s fine.”
That makes your fingers curl instinctively around the sponge.
You let out a short laugh, more defensive than amused. “You don’t know what I ‘always’ do.”
He glances at your hand, then back to the dish he’s drying. “I know because I’ve seen it before.”
You twist the dish towel in your hands, knuckles whitening. The quiet stretches too long, presses too hard against your ribs.
“Are we really doing this?” You snap, turning to look at him directly.
He raises his eyebrows, “Do what?”
You gesture vaguely between the two of you, before sighing. “Implying things happened, without really saying it?”
He watches you for a second, expression unreadable—not defensive, not amused. Just… attentive.
“I’m not implying,” he says evenly. “You are.”
That only makes your chest tighten.
You scoff, turning back to the sink and reaching for another plate you definitely don’t need to wash. “Right. Of course. Because I’m the one who keeps bringing up impressions and ‘remembering’ and—whatever this is.”
He lets out a quiet breath, more tired than annoyed. “I brought it up once.”
“And you’ve been hovering ever since,” you shoot back, voice sharp but not loud. “So tell me—are we pretending we don’t know each other, or are we circling around it until I crack?” The words hang between you.
He sets the towel down, slow, deliberate. “I’m not trying to crack you.”
“Then what do you want?” you ask, finally facing him again.
He meets your gaze, steady. No smile. No games. “I wanted to know if you leaving meant what I thought it did,” he says simply.
Your throat tightens. “And what did you think it meant, Evan?”
His breath hitches at the usage of his other name, “That you didn’t want to stay,” he replies. “Not just that morning. In general.”
You laugh softly, but it’s brittle. “It’s a one-night stand.”
He nods once. “It is, but I clearly told you before we fell asleep, that I’d prefer you staying.”
Silence settles again, thicker now. The kitchen light hums overhead. Somewhere in the living room, your mom and Mrs. Lee laugh at something on TV.
“I didn’t leave because of you,” you say finally, quieter. “I left because staying would’ve made it… complicated.”
His jaw tightens just a fraction. “And now?”
You hesitate. “Now it already is.”
He holds your gaze for a long moment, then exhales slowly. “Yeah,” he says. “It is.”
Neither of you move back to the dishes, he wipes the last plate before walking out of the kitchen.
APRIL 2025
The room is dim, lit only by the city glow slipping through the curtains. Everything feels slower, warmer—like the night hasn’t quite caught up with you yet.
You’re tangled in the sheets, limbs heavy, head resting against the pillow. Your skin is still buzzing, your thoughts pleasantly loose around the edges. Somewhere nearby, Heeseung shifts, the mattress dipping slightly as he turns onto his side.
“You okay?” he asks, voice low, a little rough around the edges.
You hum, half-laughing into the pillow. “I think so. Might need a minute to remember my name.”
He chuckles softly. “Fair.”
The pause lingers, easy and unforced. The city light paints soft lines across the ceiling, and for a moment, neither of you moves.
You’re the one who breaks it first.
“Evan,” you say, voice lazy, still warm with alcohol and comfort. “What do you actually do when you’re not… here?”
He exhales a quiet laugh, turning his head slightly toward you. “That’s a loaded question.”
You smile into the pillow. “I’m serious. You feel like someone with a very normal answer and a very complicated explanation.”
He considers that. “I work in the music industry. Producing. It sounds fancier than it is.”
“Everything sounds fancier at night,” you mumble. “Especially after drinks.”
“True,” he agrees. Then, after a beat, “What about you?”
You shrug, the sheets rustling. “Still figuring it out. I bounce around a lot, job-hunting.”
He smiles and run his hand on your hair, as if wanting to see your face clearly. “You’re tense, like there’s a lot going on here.” He softly taps on your temple.
You huff a quiet laugh, eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touch. “Is that your professional opinion?” you murmur. “Because I didn’t realize producers did mind-reading too.”
He chuckles, thumb brushing lightly through your hair, unhurried. “Not mind-reading. Just… paying attention.”
You turn your face toward him then, cheek sinking deeper into the pillow. “There’s always a lot going on,” you admit. “I just don’t like sitting still long enough to sort it out.”
“Why not?” he asks, not pushing—just curious.
You think about it for a moment, gaze drifting to the ceiling. “Because if I do, I might realize I’m not as put-together as I pretend to be.”
He hums softly, fingers still tracing slow, absent patterns. “That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”
“Easy for you to say,” you mumble. “You seem like you’ve got things… handled.”
He smiles faintly. “I’m good at looking like I do.”
You glance back at him. “Really?”
“Really,” he says. “I just learned how to keep the chaos quiet.”
That earns a small smile from you. “Guess we’re not that different then.”
“Guess not,” he replies.
The room settles again, the air warm and slow. His hand stays in your hair, grounding, gentle—like he’s in no rush to let the moment slip away.
Neither of you says it, but the thought hangs there between you, soft and dangerous all at once:
This feels easy.
Too easy.
He pulls you closer, lips pressing on your temple as he sighs.
“I’d love it if you stay.”
And you felt your heart breaks a little when you doze off.
…
Three days.
Three days until he leaves.
And for the past two, he hasn’t said a word to you.
You can feel it in every glance across the kitchen, every step in the hall, every time the front door opens and closes. He’s there, moving around the house, calm and composed as ever, but the silence between you? It’s deafening.
You try to keep yourself busy—laundry, dishes, scrolling mindlessly through your phone—but the tension follows you everywhere. Even sitting in your room, pretending to read, you can hear him talking to your mom in the living room, laugh light and easy, and it makes your chest tighten.
Your mom insists on taking Mrs. Lee and Heeseung to the city’s famous park for a “little sightseeing and fresh air,” and somehow, you’re drafted along.
“Come on,” your mom says, practically bouncing. “You’ll enjoy it! The weather’s perfect, and it’s not a usual thing that we all went out together!”
So here you are, in Heeseung’s car with your moms at the back chatting mindlessly, pointing out shops, telling stories, laughing easily, while you sit in the passenger’s seat and him driving beside you.
He doesn’t say much, just drives with that calm, effortless composure that makes your stomach twist in ways you’re not ready to name. Your mom and Mrs. Lee chatter nonstop behind you, oblivious to the tight coil of nerves in the seat beside him.
You glance at him occasionally, catching his profile in the sunlight, the way his hands rest lightly on the wheel, the faint line of concentration in his jaw. He doesn’t meet your eyes, but you can feel the awareness there, quiet, unspoken, like a weight pressing just enough to make you swallow hard.
“I hope you like walking,” your mom says suddenly from the back, as if reading your tension, “the park’s beautiful this time of year. Lots of trees, fountains—perfect for photos!”
“Yeah,” you murmur, keeping your voice neutral, though your chest is still tight.
Heeseung hums softly, not answering but shifting slightly in his seat, just enough that you notice.
The car slows, pulling into the park lot. Sunlight streams through the windshield, glinting off the pavement and the scattered autumn leaves. Your mom practically leaps out first, Mrs. Lee following close behind, both chattering excitedly.
You take a deep breath, adjusting your bag, and slide out of the car. Heeseung steps out after you, calm and measured, slipping into the rhythm of the park like he belongs there—yet you feel every step he takes, each one a quiet reminder that the past two days of silence haven’t lessened the tension between you.
As the group moves along the tree-lined path, your mom and Mrs. Lee wander ahead, comparing flowers and pointing out fountains. Heeseung falls in step beside you, hands tucked into his pockets, walking slightly behind but close enough that you can feel the space between you shrinking.
“Nice day,” he says finally, casual.
“Yeah,” you reply, voice careful. “Not too crowded either.”
He hums softly, and you feel that subtle glance he throws your way—quick, unobtrusive, but enough to make your stomach twist again.
The silence between words is heavy, but not hostile. It’s loaded. Sharp. And as you continue along the winding paths of the park, you realize these three days—and these stolen moments in the quiet—might be harder than anything you expected.
You barely get a chance to say more to him before your mom is already digging through her bag.
“Phone—where’s my phone?” she mutters, then brightens. “Oh! There it is.”
Mrs. Lee laughs beside her. “You’re just as excited as ever.”
“Of course I am,” your mom says. “When do we ever get everyone together like this?”
Everyone.
You glance at Heeseung without meaning to. He’s still looking around, taking the place in quietly, like he’s memorizing it. First time here. First time seeing your city like this.
“Alright,” your mom says, raising her phone. “Group photo first.”
You shuffle closer, standing beside Mrs. Lee. Heeseung ends up at the edge, half a step apart from you, hands in his pockets.
“Wait, no,” your mom frowns. “Heeseung, come closer. You’re getting cut out.”
He obeys, stepping in just enough that his shoulder brushes yours—brief, accidental, but it sends a jolt through you anyway.
Click.
“Again,” Mrs. Lee says. “That one was blurry.”
You barely have time to reset before your mom adds, “Okay, now just you two.”
“What?” you and Heeseung say at the same time.
“It’s nice to have one of the younger generation,” your mom insists. “For memories.”
You exchange a quick glance with him—too quick to mean anything, too loaded to be nothing.
“Just stand there and act normal!” your mom says.
Easier said than done.
You stand side by side this time, not touching, but close enough that you’re aware of his presence—his warmth, the way he’s careful not to move too suddenly.
“Smile,” your mom sings.
You do. Heeseung offers something polite, restrained.
Click.
“That’s nice,” Mrs. Lee says warmly. “You both look good.”
You almost laugh at that.
As your mom reviews the photos, muttering happily to herself, you step back without thinking. Heeseung does the same.
You don’t make it five steps more into the park before your mom stops again.
“Wait—stand there,” she says, already lifting her phone. “The trees look really nice from this angle.”
Mrs. Lee nods enthusiastically. “Oh yes, the lighting is beautiful.”
You exchange a look with Heeseung. Not a look—just a flicker. A silent here we go.
Click.
You start walking again. Ten steps this time.
“Oh!” your mom gasps. “The fountain—Heeseung, you’ll love this. You two, go stand near it.”
“We just took one,” you say weakly. “That was over there,” she replies, like it explains everything.
So you move again, standing side by side while people pass behind you. Heeseung keeps his hands in his pockets, posture relaxed, expression neutral. You keep your arms crossed, suddenly very aware of where you’re standing.
Click. Click.
Mrs. Lee laughs. “You look very natural together.”
You almost choke on air.
The walk continues. The photos do too.
By the flower beds.
Near the bridge.
In front of the pond.
Each time, your mom adjusts angles, steps back, waves you closer, tells you to smile more, tilt your head, stand straighter.
“You don’t have to look so tense,” she tells you at one point.
You laugh, tight. “I’m fine.”
Heeseung glances at you then, quick and unreadable.
At some point, he murmurs quietly, just for you, “If we keep this up, we’ll have enough photos for a family album.”
You blink, surprised.
“…I’m sorry,” you mutter. “She gets like this.”
He hums. “I noticed.”
There’s no edge in his voice. No teasing. Just observation.
Another photo.
Your shoulder brushes his this time, accidental. Neither of you move away immediately.
Click.
“Perfect!” your mom says.
You step away first.
The walk goes on, but your nerves don’t settle. If anything, they tighten with every forced smile, every staged moment, every second you’re made to look like something you’re very much not.
And the worst part?
Heeseung never once complains.
He just keeps walking beside you—calm, composed—letting the photos pile up like quiet evidence of something neither of you is ready to name.
You make it halfway up the stone path before it happens.
“Wait—wait, here,” your mom says suddenly, already lifting her phone again. “This spot is perfect. The water, the rocks—very scenic.”
You glance down at where she’s pointing and feel a flicker of hesitation. The stones near the edge of the stream are uneven, damp from the spray of the fountain nearby. The drop isn’t dramatic, but it’s enough to make you cautious.
“I don’t think that’s—” you start.
“Oh, it’s fine,” Mrs. Lee says cheerfully. “Just be careful.”
Famous last words.
You step forward anyway, because of course you do. Because this is not the hill you’re dying on today.
Heeseung follows a step behind you, quiet as always.
“Stand just there,” your mom says, framing the shot. “Yes, yes—perfect.”
You shift your weight slightly to adjust your footing.
And then your shoe slips.
It happens fast—too fast for you to catch yourself. One second you’re steady, the next the ground tilts and your stomach drops, breath punching out of you as you instinctively reach for anything.
Strong hands grab your arm.
Another slides to your waist, firm and immediate, pulling you back before you can even gasp.
You stumble—not forward, not down—but straight into him.
Your back hits his chest, solid and warm, his grip tightening just enough to keep you upright. For half a second, you’re frozen there, heart racing, fingers clutching at his sleeve.
He’s close. Too close.
You can feel his breath near your ear, feel the tension in his hold, the way his body adjusts automatically to steady yours.
“You okay?” he asks quietly, voice low—meant only for you.
You nod, a little too fast. “Yeah. Yeah, I—thanks.”
He doesn’t let go immediately.
Just long enough to make sure you’re steady.
Just long enough for the moment to stretch thin and dangerous.
“Careful,” he murmurs, almost instinctively.
Then—click.
“Oh my goodness!” your mom exclaims. “That was scary! But—oh, wait. Hold on.”
You stiffen.
“That one looked nice,” Mrs. Lee says, peering at the phone. “Very… natural.”
You finally step away, cheeks burning, suddenly very aware of how his hands had been on you, how easily he’d caught you, how familiar it felt in a way that made your chest ache.
Heeseung straightens too, composure snapping back into place like nothing happened. Hands back in his pockets. Expression calm.
But when you dare glance at him, his eyes linger on you just a second longer than necessary.
Your mom laughs. “See? Good thing he was there. You’d have fallen otherwise.”
“Yeah,” you say, forcing a laugh. “Good thing.”
The walk continues, the photos continue, but something has shifted.
Your heart doesn’t slow down.
And every time Heeseung walks just a little closer after that, you can’t tell if it’s accidental—
—or if he’s making sure you won’t fall again.
…
After dinner, you decide to hog the living room all by yourself, continue binge watching another C-drama you have postponed watching for the longest time.
It’s almost midnight, the moms had already wished you goodnight. You smile to yourself at the very well-earned time to yourself.
Or not?
Heeseung appears at the bottom, slightly disheveled, hair tousled like he’s just run a hand through it one too many times. He’s in simple grey sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt, the kind that clings just enough to show he didn’t bother thinking about how he looked.
His eyes are still half-lidded with sleep as they settle on the TV screen, expression calm.
He looks at you, before taking a seat.
“I watched this one.” He says softly. Voice hoarse with sleep.
“No spoilers, please.” You says, turning away to look at the TV. He laughs.
“Nothing too extreme, it’s a rom-com. Nothing can be a spoiler.” You clutch your heart, dramatically looking at him.
He shrugs. “What? It’s true. You know in the end they end up together.”
You sigh, leaning back. “Well, true that.” He lean back too, making your shoulders touch.
“Why did you wake up?” I look at him. “It’s barely midnight.”
“Can’t sleep. I mean, I kept waking up.” He replies, fingers tapping on his thigh. You nod, continue watching the romantic scenes on the TV.
“You enjoy stuffs like these?” He asks, not looking at you.
“Anything feel-good is enjoyable.”
“So the concept of romance, you like it?” He asks, carefully.
“Where are you going with this?” You look at him, eyes narrowing. He meets your gaze, his expression looking more earnest.
“Just wondering, if you’d like it in real life too.”
You scoff. “You and your nonstop bull—“
“Is it bullshit, really?” He asks, seriously this time. You felt your heart beating fast, you look away, just anywhere. Not sure where to look when he’s all up in your space like this.
“Evan.” You started,
“No, let me tell you this.” He straighten up, body now fully facing you, as he look directlt into your eyes.
“I’m sorry if I ever come up as pushy, talking about you with your mom, hinting at our past to her, making you feel things you don’t like, that wasn’t my intention.” He winces.
“I just…I just wanted to get to know you, really look at you. No dim lights of the bar, no dark night sky as we walk back to some hotel, and certainly no dark hotel room where I spent the whole night feeling good with the woman I knew nothing about.” He sighs.
“It’s just a one night stand, I get it.” He scoffs, “but what if I told you that I wanted more? That I regret waking up without your presence the next morning, how every sound you let out that night made me fantasize the sounds you’d make if it wasn’t casual?”
At this point, you were looking at him speechless. You’re not trusting your voice right now.
“Evan—“
“Heeseung.” He corrects. “Evan saw you first, but Heeseung fell for you.”
You fall silent again. Just staring at him like he didn’t just pour his heart out while you’re watching some corny C-drama.
“Say something. Anything.”
The TV continues playing, characters confessing under scripted rain.
But this?
This isn’t scripted.
And you’re not sure which feels scarier.
Your throat feels tight.
The drama’s background music swells dramatically, the male lead on screen confessing under artificial rain, but it feels distant—like white noise compared to the very real, very raw man sitting inches away from you.
You swallow.
“Heeseung…” you finally manage.
He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t interrupt. Just waits.
“You’re leaving in three days.”
It’s not the response he expected—but it’s the only one that makes sense in your head.
His jaw tightens slightly. “I know.”
“So what is this?” you ask, your voice quieter now. “You confess, we… what? Start something? And then you’re on the road back home in another city?”
He exhales slowly, running a hand through his already messy hair. “You think I haven’t thought about that?”
“I think you’re being impulsive,” you snap, but there’s no heat behind it—just fear. “You’re here. It feels intense. Nostalgic. But when you go back—”
“It’s not nostalgia,” he says firmly.
The way he says it makes you pause.
“It wasn’t just that night,” he continues. “I’ve tried to brush it off. I’ve tried to tell myself it was just chemistry. But then I see you here. The way you argue. The way you laugh with your mom. The way you pretend you’re tougher than you are.”
You glare at him slightly. “I am tough.”
His lips twitch faintly. “I know.”
That softness again. It’s worse than teasing.
“I don’t expect you to promise me anything,” he says. “I just needed you to know that I’m not playing around.”
Your fingers tighten around the blanket.
“You don’t get to say all that and then expect me to just… be calm,” you whisper.
“I don’t want you calm,” he admits. “I want you honest.”
The word lands heavily.
Honest.
You look at him then—really look at him. There’s no arrogance. No flirtation. Just a quiet steadiness that makes your chest ache.
“You think this is easy for me?” you ask softly. “Seeing you in my house. At dinner. At the park. Acting like we didn’t—”
Your voice falters.
“Like we didn’t matter,” he finishes.
You nod.
Silence settles again, but it’s no longer suffocating. It’s fragile. Balanced on something sharp.
“I didn’t plan to fall for you,” he says quietly. “It just happened.”
Your heart pounds harder at that word.
Fall.
“You don’t even know me that well,” you argue weakly.
“Then let me,” he replies immediately.
That catches you off guard.
“Let me know you properly,” he says. “Not just the version from one night. Not just the version that pushes me away when things feel too real.”
Your breath hitches.
“You’re scared,” he says gently.
“Of course I am,” you admit, almost frustrated. “You’re leaving. I don’t do long distance. I don’t do uncertainty, I…certainly don’t just date from one good sex.”
“And I don’t do pretending I don’t care,” he counters.
The drama on the TV ends its confession scene with applause-worthy music. You grab the remote and mute it.
The silence now is entirely yours.
“What are you asking from me?” you whisper.
He leans a little closer—not touching, just closing the space enough that you feel his presence fully.
“A chance,” he says. “Not a guarantee. Just… don’t shut the door before we even try.”
Your pulse is loud in your ears.
Three days before he leaves.
Three days to either build something—or protect yourself from it.
You look at him, eyes searching, trying to find a reason to dismiss this as temporary emotion.
You don’t find one.
And that’s what terrifies you.
“Say something,” he murmurs again, softer now.
This time, you don’t look away. You stare at him for one long, overwhelming second.
Your heart is racing too fast. Your thoughts are colliding into each other. Three days. Confessions. “A chance.” It’s too much. Too sudden. Too real.
You stand up abruptly.
“I—I need time to think,” you say, words tumbling out before you can filter them.
Heeseung rises halfway from the couch instinctively. “Hey—”
But you’re already stepping back.
“I just… I can’t answer you right now,” you add quickly. “It’s a lot.”
His expression tightens, but he nods once. “Okay.”
You don’t wait for anything else.
You bolt down the hallway, heart pounding, shutting your bedroom door a little harder than necessary. You lean against it, breath uneven.
Why now?
Why three days before he leaves?
Why does it feel like if you answer wrong, you’ll lose something you didn’t even realize you were holding?
You slide down against the door and press your palms to your eyes. You needed time. You just didn’t expect it to feel like this.
The next morning smells like butter and coffee.
You frown, your mom does not wake up early on weekends.
You shuffle out of your room, still half-asleep, hair messy, expecting silence. Instead, you hear the sound of a pan sizzling. You blink.
Heeseung is in the kitchen.
Sleeves slightly rolled, apron tied awkwardly around his waist (clearly borrowed), hair still soft and unruly from sleep—but this time he looks very awake.
Focused.
Your mom and Mrs. Lee are seated at the table, watching him like he’s some kind of five-star chef.
“He insisted,” your mom says the moment she sees you. “Said we should let him cook.”
He glances up at you.
Not smug, not teasing. Just steady.
“Morning,” he says.
You clear your throat. “Morning.”
He turns back to the stove. “Scrambled eggs or sunny side up?”
You blink. “What?”
“For you,” he clarifies. “How do you like your eggs?”
Your mom gasps softly. “He even asked me what you usually eat.”
You shoot her a look.
He continues like this is completely normal. “I made toast too. And there’s fruit.”
You step closer to the counter, still confused. “Since when do you cook?”
“Since always,” he replies casually. “You just didn’t stay long enough to see.”
Your ears burn, looking over to your moms if they notice it, they don’t.
He plates the food carefully—neatly, intentionally—and sets it in front of you first before sitting down.
That alone makes your stomach flip.
He doesn’t bring up last night.
Doesn’t push.
Doesn’t corner you.
Instead, he talks to your mom about the park photos. Asks his about souvenirs to bring home. Clears plates without being asked.
Too proactive.
Suspiciously proactive.
When your mom mentions needing to run errands later, he immediately says, “I can drive.”
When Mrs. Lee talks about wanting to visit a bakery nearby, he says, “Let’s go after breakfast.”
You watch him the entire time.
He’s not performing.
He’s consistent.
Intentional.
When your mom leaves the table to grab something from her room, and Mrs. Lee follows, you’re briefly alone in the kitchen.
He stands by the sink, rinsing dishes.
“You don’t have to… do all this,” you say quietly. He doesn’t turn around immediately.
“I know,” he replies then glances at you over his shoulder.
“But I want to.” There’s no pressure in his voice, just effort.
You swallow.
“You said you needed time,” he continues calmly. “I’m giving it to you.” The water runs softly between you.
“But I’m not going to act like I didn’t say what I said.” Your pulse stutters.
“I meant it,” he adds. “So I’ll act like I meant it.”
You stare at him and he turns the tap off and dries his hands slowly.
“I’m leaving in three days,” he says. “I don’t want to waste them pretending.”
And somehow, that hits harder than the confession itself.
…
From the moment breakfast ends, he doesn’t leave your side. Not in a suffocating way. Not hovering. Just… present.
When your mom asks you to help bring laundry out to dry, he’s already reaching for the basket before you can. When you struggle with the stubborn sliding door, he steps in quietly, fixing it without making a show of it.
“You don’t have to follow me everywhere,” you mutter at one point, adjusting the clothespins.
“I’m not following you,” he replies lightly. “I’m staying here temporarily too, remember?”
You glance at him. He looks almost amused—but there’s intention behind it.
Later, when you head to the small grocery store nearby because your mom forgot coriander, he walks beside you without even asking if he should come.
The afternoon sun is warm. The air smells like pavement and fried snacks from a stall down the street.
“So,” he says casually, hands in his pockets. “What did you want to be when you were younger?”
You blink. “What?”
“When you were eight. Ten. What was the dream?” You huff softly. “That’s random.”
“It’s not,” he says. “It tells me things.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “You analyzing me now?”
“Maybe.”
You roll your eyes—but you answer anyway.
“I wanted to be a novelist,” you admit. “I used to write stories. Cringey ones.”
His eyebrows lift slightly. “You still write?”
You hesitate. “…Rarely now, in my notebooks in my apartment, or my notes app.”
“Why’d you stop wanting to be it?”
The question is gentle. Not invasive. Just curious. You shrug. “Reality. Expectations. It didn’t feel practical.”
He nods slowly, absorbing that like it matters.
“It still matters,” he says after a moment.
You glance at him. “What does?”
“The fact that you wanted to create something.”
Your chest tightens slightly.
He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t brush it off. Just lets it sit there like it’s important.
Back home, when your mom asks you to help reorganize some old boxes in the storage room, he follows again.
It’s dusty. Warm. Dim.
You crouch down to open a box of old photo albums. He kneels beside you, shoulder nearly brushing yours.
“That’s you?” he asks, picking up a picture of you at maybe twelve years old, hair shorter, smile wider.
You snatch it lightly. “Don’t judge.”
“I’m not,” he says. And he isn’t. He studies the photo like he’s memorizing it.
“You looked happy.”
“I was a kid.”
“And now?”
You look at him sharply. “What’s with the interrogation?”
“I told you,” he reminds you quietly. “I want to know you.”
There’s no rush in his tone. No desperation.
Just steadiness.
The day continues like that.
When you wash dishes, he dries them.
He asks about your university. Your friends. What stresses you out. What makes you laugh. What kind of music you secretly listen to when you’re alone.
At one point, he says, “You hum when you’re focused.”
You freeze. “I do not.”
“You do,” he insists softly. “You were doing it while cutting fruit earlier.”
You didn’t even realize.
“The thing you do with your hand? That too.” He points out, while taking your hand, opening it and see the crescent marks on your palm.
“You notice too much,” you murmur.
He doesn’t deny it.
“Someone has to,” he replies.
The living room is dim, only the lamp by the window casting a warm glow across the space. The TV is on but forgotten, some late-night rerun playing to fill the silence.
You’re curled into the corner of the couch, legs tucked under you. Heeseung sits beside you—not too close, not too far—close enough that you’re aware of him without feeling crowded.
He’s been quieter tonight. Observing.
“Can I ask you something?” he says eventually.
You glance at him warily. “You’ve been doing that all day.”
A faint smile. “Humor me.”
You sigh. “Fine.” Only because you can’t resist his charming smile.
“That night,” he says carefully, “why were you really there?”
You stiffen slightly. “At the bar?”
“In another city. On a random weekend.”
“It wasn’t random,” you reply automatically.
He waits.
You stare at the muted TV screen for a long moment before answering.
“I party a lot with my friends,” you say finally.
He doesn’t react. Just listens. “More than people expect,” you add.
“Why?” he asks softly.
You let out a small breath through your nose. “Because it’s loud.”
He tilts his head slightly.
“Because when the music’s blasting and the lights are flashing and everyone’s moving,” you continue, “I can’t hear my own thoughts.”
The honesty surprises even you.
He doesn’t interrupt.
“You know how exhausting job hunting is?” you ask quietly. “Applications. Tailoring your resume for every company. Writing cover letters that feel fake. Preparing for interviews. Smiling. Selling yourself.”
His expression shifts—more focused now.
“And then the emails,” you continue, voice flattening. “‘We regret to inform you.’ ‘After careful consideration.’ ‘We’ve decided to move forward with other candidates.’”
You laugh softly, but there’s no humor in it.
“Sometimes they don’t even reply.”
Silence stretches.
“It gets to you,” you admit. “You start wondering what’s wrong with you. If you’re not good enough. If everyone else is moving ahead while you’re just… stuck.”
He doesn’t look away.
“So yeah,” you shrug lightly, though your chest feels tight. “I party.”
“To forget?” he asks.
“To breathe,” you correct.
You shift slightly, hugging your knees closer.
“When I’m out with my friends, I’m not the girl refreshing her email at 2 a.m. I’m not the candidate who didn’t make it to the final round. I’m just… me.”
He studies you carefully.
“And that’s why you were in another city.”
You nod.
“We’d just gotten two rejections that week,” you admit. “Back-to-back. I felt so stupid for getting my hopes up.”
Your voice lowers.
“So we booked a cheap place, took a train, and told ourselves we deserved one reckless weekend.”
“You call it reckless,” he says quietly. “But you sound calculated.”
You frown slightly. “What?”
“You didn’t go there to ruin yourself,” he says. “You went there to survive.”
That makes you blink.
“I like dancing,” you add quickly, deflecting. “I like dressing up. I like feeling wanted without having to prove I’m competent or impressive.”
His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly at that word.
“Wanted.”
“It’s simple,” you say. “No resumes. No interviews. No expectations beyond having fun.”
“And me?” he asks gently.
You swallow.
“You weren’t part of the plan,” you admit.
His eyes don’t leave yours.
“I wasn’t looking for something serious,” you continue. “It was easier that way. Temporary city. Temporary connection. No future to mess up.”
“You think you mess things up?” he asks.
You give him a look. “Don’t psychoanalyze me.”
“I’m not,” he says evenly. “I’m trying to understand.”
You hesitate.
“When you don’t get chosen enough,” you say slowly, “you stop expecting to be.”
The words hang in the air.
He goes very still.
“That night,” you continue, quieter now, “I wasn’t thinking about tomorrow. I just wanted to feel good. To not think about rejection emails. To not feel like I was behind in life.”
“And I was… what?” he asks softly.
“A distraction,” you answer honestly.
The word lands heavy.
But before he can retreat into it, you add—
“A good one.”
His gaze sharpens slightly.
“You were easy,” you explain. “Not in a bad way. You didn’t interrogate me. You didn’t act like you were doing me a favor. You just… were there.”
He exhales slowly.
“And when I woke up alone,” he says quietly, “it didn’t feel temporary.”
You look at him.
“I didn’t want to be just a distraction,” he continues. “I wanted to be something that stayed.”
Your heart stutters.
You look away first. “I don’t know how to let things stay,” you admit.
“Because you’re used to them leaving?” he asks.
The vulnerability in the room shifts everything.
He doesn’t reach for you, doesn’t crowd you. He just sits there, steady.
“You party to break free,” he says after a moment. You nod.
“I’m not here to take that away from you.”
You glance at him cautiously.
“But I don’t want to be another escape,” he continues. “I want to be something you choose even when the music stops.”
Your chest tightens again.
Outside, the night is quiet. No music. No flashing lights. No crowd to drown out your thoughts.
Just him.
And the terrifying possibility that this time, you won’t be the one walking away before you can be rejected.
The room feels smaller after that.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
The lamp beside the couch casts a soft golden glow across his face, catching in his eyes. The TV is still muted, forgotten entirely now. Outside, the world is quiet—no music, no city noise, no chaos to hide behind.
Just you.
And him.
“I don’t know how to let things stay,” you admit again, softer this time. “Nor how to stay.”
He doesn’t rush to fill the silence. He doesn’t try to fix you. He just watches you like your words matter.
“Then don’t decide forever,” he says gently. “Just decide now.”
Your heart pounds.
“That’s how it starts,” you whisper. “Now turns into later. Later turns into expectations.”
“And expectations scare you,” he says.
“They fail,” you correct.
He studies you for a long moment. Then he shifts closer—not abruptly, not cornering—just enough that the space between your knees and his disappears.
“I’m not an interview,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to impress me.”
Your throat tightens.
“I already like you,” he continues. “On your stressed days. On your stubborn days. On the days you party too hard to feel free.”
You huff softly. “I don’t party too hard, I still control myself.”
He almost smiles. “You know what I mean.”
The tenderness in his voice makes your chest ache.
“You don’t have to earn staying,” he says.
The words hit somewhere deep.
You look at him, really look at him. His hair is still slightly messy from earlier. He’s not styled, not composed like the first night you met. He’s just… him.
And he’s looking at you like you’re not temporary.
Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. “You’re leaving.”
“In two days,” he says.
“And then?”
“Then we figure it out,” he replies. “Or we try. Or we fail. But at least we won’t be wondering.”
Your breathing feels uneven.
He lifts his hand slowly, like he’s giving you time to pull away.
When you don’t, his fingers brush lightly against your cheek.
The touch is soft. Careful.
Nothing like that first night.
That night was heat and impulse and dim lights and stolen glances.
This is quiet.
Intentional.
His thumb traces gently along your jawline, barely there. You feel your pulse everywhere at once.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
You swallow.
He doesn’t laugh at you.
Doesn’t tease.
His hand shifts slightly, cupping your cheek fully now. Warm. Steady.
“Tell me to stop,” he says quietly.
You don’t.
Instead, you lean in first.
It’s small. Barely an inch, but it closes the distance.
His breath brushes your lips before they meet. Slow. Careful. Testing.
When he kisses you, it isn’t rushed.
It isn’t hungry.
It’s soft.
Like he’s asking a question.
Your fingers clutch lightly at the fabric of his T-shirt without thinking. The kiss deepens just slightly—not intense, not overwhelming—just enough to make your heart feel like it might burst.
He pulls back a fraction, forehead resting against yours.
His voice is low. Almost unsteady.
“This isn’t an escape,” he says.
You nod faintly, breath mingling with his.
“I know.”
He kisses you again.
This time with more certainty.
Not claiming. Not demanding.
Choosing.
Your hand slides up to the back of his neck, fingers threading lightly into his hair. He exhales softly against your lips, one hand moving to your waist—secure, but not pulling you in without permission.
The world outside the living room feels nonexistent.
No rejection emails.
No interviews.
No expectations.
Just this moment.
When you finally pull back, your lips feel warm, your thoughts scattered.
“Now,” he murmurs softly, echoing his earlier words.
You let out a shaky breath.
“Now,” you repeat.
And for the first time, it doesn’t feel like something you’re running from.
It feels like something you’re choosing.
The living room feels impossibly small after that kiss. Your pulse is racing, every nerve on fire, yet your mind is dizzy in a way that makes thinking impossible.
Heeseung pulls back just slightly, his forehead still resting against yours, and you can feel the warmth of him everywhere. For a heartbeat, neither of you moves, the air thick with unsaid words.
“I—” you start, but your voice falters.
“I’ve got you,” he says suddenly, firm but gentle. His hands slide under your arms, and before you can protest, he lifts you effortlessly.
Your stomach flips. “Heeseung! Put me down!” you squeak, half-laughing, half-panicking, but you don’t resist.
“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the side of your temple as he carries you toward your room. His voice is low, intimate, and the closeness makes your chest tighten even more.
Your room feels impossibly far and yet too close. The walls, the soft glow of your lamp, the familiar smell of your space—all of it is suddenly charged.
He sets you down gently on your bed, but the tension doesn’t leave. His hands linger near your waist, fingers brushing against the soft fabric of your shirt. You feel the deliberate weight of his gaze on you, assessing, quiet, patient.
“Are you… okay with this?” he asks, voice husky but careful, and you can’t tell if he’s asking about the kiss, being alone together, or everything.
You swallow hard, your pulse loud in your ears. “I—I think so,” you admit, your words trembling just enough to betray your certainty.
He shifts closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand resting lightly on the mattress near yours. You’re inches apart, every movement amplified. The air feels electric, charged with anticipation and heat.
His eyes trace your face slowly, almost like he’s memorizing every line, every shadow. “You’re warm,” he murmurs, voice softer now, almost a whisper.
Your breath catches. The room is quiet except for the distant hum of the city outside. Your fingers twitch at the edge of the blanket, trying to ground yourself, but he leans in, closing the space further.
His hand moves to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, brushing against your jaw as he does. You feel your own hands rise, unconsciously resting on his forearm. The intimacy is subtle, teasing—every touch deliberate, careful, yet charged with something unspoken.
“You’ve been on my mind,” he admits quietly, gaze locking with yours. “All day. Since breakfast. Even when we were doing the dishes… I couldn’t stop thinking.”
Your chest tightens. The honesty in his tone, combined with the nearness, makes your head spin. “Maybe you also have been lingering in my head all along for the past two months.”
“I—” you start, but he leans in closer, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. It’s slower, deliberate, exploratory—but there’s a hunger there too, restrained yet unmistakable.
Your hands find his chest, fingers brushing against the fabric of his T-shirt, feeling the solid warmth underneath. The kiss deepens slightly, teasing, suggestive, daring—but still measured.
He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, reading your reaction, searching for consent in your gaze. Your pulse is racing, your thoughts scattered, but the answer is clear in the flutter of your heartbeat.
His lips hover over yours again, close enough that you can feel the warmth and breath, and for a moment, nothing else exists: no hesitation, no past regrets, just the two of you, the quiet room, and the thrilling, dangerous pull of something more.
And then he whispers, low and husky, “Do you trust me?”
Your answer is a shiver, a nod, a soft, “Yes,” barely audible—but it’s enough.
The air between you thickens, charged with a suggestion, a promise, a question that doesn’t need words—because the way he’s looking at you, the way he’s close enough to touch, it says it all.
…
Heeseung’s lips trail down your neck with a slow, teasing warmth—each kiss featherlight at first, then lingering just enough to leave faint tingles in their wake. His breathing is uneven but controlled, clearly trying to balance the haze with focus.
“Always smell so good.” He murmur between kisses. One hand rests tentatively against your shoulder while the other tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear before continuing his path lower.
Then he pauses abruptly near your collarbone as if remembering something, “I don’t have condoms with me,” He looks at you.
You huff, turning to your handbag. Pulling out the small foil packet, he smiles at you. “For your other one night stands?” You laugh.
“That was the plan, but I stopped doing those after you.” He doesn’t question it, You tug at his shirt, signalling you want it off.
Heeseung makes quick work of his shirt, tossing it aside before popping the button on his pants. His movements are fluid—confident but not rushed—as he steps out of them and kicks them toward the floor.
“Better?” He asks, voice low as he reaches for you again, now only in his boxers.
His fingers are gentle but eager as he helps you out of your own clothes—each piece discarded with care until there’s nothing left between you. His touch lingers on bare skin, like he’s relearning every curve after months of yearning.
"God… I love this,"he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. “So beautiful.”
Heeseung trails kisses downward—slow, deliberate—each one hotter than the last. His hands follow, mapping your body like he’s memorizing it anew. When his lips finally reach the place you have been dying for him to touch, he glances up at you through his lashes, smirking.
“Want me to touch you here?”
You nod, he tsks. “Need to hear you, baby.” As his breath brushes your open folds.
“Yes.” You gasped, “Yes, please.”
He smiles, Heeseung doesn’t waste another second—his mouth sealing over you with practiced devotion. Every flick of his tongue, every hum against your skin is calculated to unravel you.
And it works.
His free hand grips your thigh, holding you steady as he focuses entirely on pleasuring and loving you—like this is the only mission that matters tonight.
Heeseung zeroes in on your clit instantly—his tongue circling it with just the right amount of pressure before sucking lightly. His eyes stay locked on yours, gauging every twitch and gasp to adjust his technique.
"This okay?" he murmurs against you, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear you say it anyway.
You nod, he hums in approval—taking your nod as permission to double down. His tongue flicks faster now, alternating between broad strokes and precise little darts while his fingers slip inside you, curling just right.
You yelp at the sudden intrusion, Heeseung pauses immediately—pulling back just enough to check your expression. His brows furrow in concern, but he keeps his fingers still inside you.
"Too much?" he asks softly, ready to adjust at your slightest hint. You shake your head, “It’s good, s’good..”
He exhales in relief—his tension melting into renewed focus. He resumes with even more care now, his movements deliberate and gentle as he coaxes you toward pleasure rather than overwhelming you.
"That’s it," he murmurs, lips brushing your inner thigh between words. "Just relax… I’ve got you."
“I’ll make you feel better than that night.”
He adds a second finger—stretching you gradually as his thumb replaces his tongue, rubbing slow circles over your clit instead. His eyes stay locked on your face, tracking every flutter of pleasure.
“Tell me if anything’s too much," he reminds, voice thick with concern beneath the desire.
Heeseung's touch remains gentle and attentive, his fingers moving in a steady rhythm that builds pleasure without rushing you. Every now and then, he glances up to make sure you're still comfortable—his expression soft with care even as desire burns in his gaze.
“So good for me, you’re so good for me.” He murmurs againts your skin, words warm and reverent.
He senses you're close—your breaths hitching, your body tensing around his fingers. He presses a final open-mouthed kiss to your clit before murmuring,
"Come for me, baby.”
His words are the last push you need—your climax crashing over you in waves as Heeseung rides it out with his fingers, his touch never faltering. When your tremors subside, he presses a kiss to your inner thigh and slowly withdraws his hand.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, crawling up to claim your lips in a deep kiss—letting you taste yourself on him.
“Need you, now.” You breath againts his lips
Heeseung groans at your words, his body responding instantly. In one fluid motion, he flips onto his back—pulling you atop him, before rolling the condom on with practiced ease.
“Ride me,” he rasps, before teasing his tip on your folds and guiding himself to your entrance. He hisses as you sink onto him—his hands flying to your hips, gripping hard as he adjusts to the sudden tightness. His head falls back against the pillows, eyes squeezing shut for a second before he forces them open again, needing to see you.
"Fuck," he grits out, "You feel…"
Words fail him—too overwhelmed by how perfectly you take him in.
His breath comes in ragged bursts as you start moving—his hips instinctively bucking up to meet each of your descents. One hand slides up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you down into a searing kiss while the other presses possessively against your back.
He loses himself in the rhythm you set—every roll of your hips sending sparks through his veins. His hands roam your body, worshiping every curve as he murmurs praise against your skin.
“Gonna kill me like this, baby.” He cups your breasts as he pinches one of your nipples, you moan.
His control starts to fray—his thrusts becoming less measured, more desperate. He can feel his climax building rapidly, but he refuses to let go until you do first.
Heeseung flips you onto your back with surprising gentleness despite the urgency in his movements. The second he’s nestled between your thighs again, he surges into you—each thrust deep and deliberate.
"Look at me," he demands softly, cradling your face as his pace turns relentless. "Want to see you when we finish."
His thrusts grow erratic—his breath coming in sharp gasps as he chases his release. But even now, at the peak of pleasure, his focus stays on you, making sure you’re right there with him.
“Searched for you like crazy, kept..kept..asking around.” He went down to latch on your nipple, sucking softly and twirling his tongue making you whimper underneath him.
“Need the girl that made me fall hopelessly from just one night.”
Heeseung’s eyes lock onto yours, the intensity in his gaze nearly overwhelming as he pushes you both toward release. His thrusts grow sharper—each one hitting that perfect spot inside you while his thumb circles your clit with just enough pressure, making your moans slightly louder than before.
"Close?" he rasps, voice strained with restraint.
You nod frantically, your body coiling tight with impending pleasure. Heeseung’s answering grin is fierce—he can feel it too.
"Then let go," he urges, his own rhythm faltering as he chases his own peak alongside you.
The moment your climax hits—waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless succession—Heeseung follows with a broken groan. His thrusts stutter before he buries himself deep, shuddering through his release as he holds you close.
For several breathless seconds, all either of you can do is cling to each other, sweaty and spent but utterly satisfied.
“Don’t go. Don’t leave this time.” He says, pressing a lazy kiss on your shoulder.
“Can’t run even if I tried,” you laugh, finally aware that you guys fucked in your childhood bedroom, in your parents’ house. With his and your moms just a few doors away.
…
Morning comes softly.
Not with alarms. Not with loud footsteps downstairs.
Just sunlight.
It slips through the thin gap in your curtains, warm and golden, stretching slowly across your walls, across your desk, across the edge of your bed.
You blink awake gradually, consciousness returning in pieces.
The warmth against your back registers first.
Then the weight around your waist.
Then the steady rise and fall of someone else’s breathing.
Your heart stutters.
Heeseung.
His arm is draped securely around you, palm resting flat against your stomach like it belongs there. Your back is pressed lightly to his chest, his face buried somewhere near the back of your neck, breath warm against your skin.
For a second, you don’t move, you just lie there and lets the reality settle.
Last night wasn’t loud or reckless or fleeting. It wasn’t dim bar lights and alcohol-blurred edges.
It was slow.
Intentional.
You remember how careful he was. How he kept checking in. How he looked at you like this wasn’t just physical.
Your cheeks warm at the memory.
Behind you, he shifts slightly. His arm tightens instinctively when you move.
“Mmm,” he hums, voice thick with sleep. “Don’t go.” You freeze.
“I’m not,” you whisper, even though you hadn’t actually planned to.
He exhales softly against your shoulder, clearly not fully awake yet. His fingers flex slightly against your waist, like he’s grounding himself.
The sunlight climbs higher.
You slowly turn your head just enough to glance at him.
His hair is a mess, falling into his eyes. His lips are slightly parted, expression relaxed in a way you’ve never seen before. No guarded composure. No teasing edge.
Just him.
Peaceful.
He blinks awake a moment later, eyes adjusting slowly.
There’s a brief second of confusion.
Then recognition.
Then something softer.
“Morning,” he murmurs. Your heart flips.
“Morning.”
Neither of you moves away.
Neither of you makes it awkward.
He studies your face like he’s making sure you’re real. Like he half-expected to wake up alone again. “You’re still here,” he says quietly.
You swallow. “So are you.” A small smile touches his lips.
He lifts a hand, brushing his thumb gently along your cheekbone. Not suggestive. Not urgent. Just… tender.
“Regrets?” he asks carefully.
You consider it. The sunlight. The warmth. The quiet. His arm still wrapped around you.
“No,” you answer honestly.
Relief flickers across his face so subtly you almost miss it.
“Good,” he murmurs.
Silence settles again, but it’s comfortable.
You’re suddenly aware of the house. Of your mom downstairs. Of Mrs. Lee probably already awake.
Reality creeping back in.
“We should probably get up,” you say softly. He groans lightly. “Five more minutes.”
You roll your eyes, but you don’t move. His fingers trace lazy patterns against your waist absentmindedly.
“Last night,” he begins quietly, “wasn’t just… heat.”
You turn slightly to face him more fully now, the blanket shifting around you.
“I know,” you reply. His eyes search yours.
“I meant what I said,” he continues. “About wanting more.”
The weight of it is still there. But this time, it doesn’t feel suffocating. It feels steady.
You reach out, brushing a piece of hair away from his forehead. “I’m still scared,” you admit.
“That’s okay,” he says immediately.
“But I don’t want to run,” you add.
Something shifts in his expression—something hopeful. “We’ll figure it out,” he says quietly. “One step at a time.”
He leaves tomorrow.
But right now, he’s here.
Warm. Real. Looking at you like you’re not temporary.
His hand slides into yours under the blanket, fingers intertwining slowly.
SEPTEMBER 2025
Three months later, your apartment feels both fuller and emptier at the same time.
Fuller — because his hoodie is draped over the back of your chair. Because there’s a mug he likes that you bought “accidentally.” Because your call logs are filled with his name. Because there’s a toothbrush tucked into the corner of your sink like it belongs there.
Emptier — because right now, he isn’t here.
Long distance wasn’t glamorous.
It was: falling asleep on video call, propping your phone against your pillow just to see his face, texting “reach home safe” every long rides he takes back home, syncing up dramas and pressing play at the same time,
It was him visiting every three weeks without fail. No excuses.
He comes by Friday night, spends the weekend before saying goodbye Sunday night. Sometimes with a small bouquet.
Sometimes with your favorite snacks.
Once with nothing but a tired smile and open arms.
And every time he left, the goodbye got quieter. Less dramatic. More heavy.
But you were trying. Both of you were.
Tonight, you’re expecting him again.
You’d cleaned the apartment earlier, even though he’s seen it messy before. There’s a faint scent of citrus from the candle you lit. Your heart always beats a little faster on visit days.
When the knock finally comes, you don’t pretend to be calm. You open the door.
Heeseung stands there with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder.
And that smile, the one that makes three weeks feel like three seconds.
You don’t even greet him properly—you just step forward and hug him. He laughs softly, arms wrapping around you tightly, lifting you slightly off the ground for a brief second.
“I missed you too,” he murmurs into your hair. When you pull back, you notice something. He looks… different.
Not physically.
But there’s a weight behind his eyes.
“What?” you ask immediately. He exhales lightly. “Can I come in first?” You narrow your eyes but step aside.
He drops his bag near the couch, looks around your apartment like he always does—taking it in, grounding himself.
You close the door.
“Okay,” you say, crossing your arms. “What’s going on?”
He runs a hand through his hair—a nervous habit you’ve come to recognize.
“I have news,” he says. Your stomach drops slightly.
“Good news?” you ask cautiously.
He hesitates just enough to make your heart pound.
“I’m moving.” The word hangs in the air.
Your mind scrambles. “Moving?” you repeat. “Where?”
He steps closer. “Here.”
You blink. “…What?”
“I got a transfer,” he continues, the words coming faster now. “There was an opening in the branch here. I applied a month ago.”
“A month ago?” you echo.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to promise something that might not happen.”
Your heart is racing now. “I got it,” he says quietly. “It’s finalized.” Silence fills your apartment.
“You’re… moving here?” you whisper.
He nods. “I don’t want to do long distance anymore,” he says. “Not when I don’t have to.”
Your brain is still catching up.
“But your mom? Your place? Producing?”
“She supports it,” he replies. “And my job is still my job. Just different location.”
You stare at him.
“You did this… because of me?”He steps closer until there’s barely space between you.
“I did this because I want a life where I don’t count down weeks just to see you,” he says. “Because I don’t want to miss small things. Your bad interview days. Your random 2 a.m. thoughts. Your victories.”
Your throat tightens. “I don’t want to visit you,” he continues softly. “I want to be here.” Tears prick at the corner of your eyes before you can stop them.
“You’re serious,” you whisper.
He cups your face gently, thumbs brushing just beneath your eyes.
“I’ve never been more serious.”
Your laugh comes out shaky. “You’re insane.”
“Probably,” he admits. “But I’m yours.”
note: freaking finally! i know i promised you guys this a month ago, and yes i’m alive. just wanted to wrap things up with my semester and have a small break after stressing out for finals, but alas! here we are! first work kinda nervous >< hope u guys love it!
taglist: @gardenwonn @vayuzzz @prettygirlthings-world @yenienha @enhypen437 @rayofsunshineeee @somuchdard
WAIT! DO THAT AGAIN!
[⪩. .⪨] ── "wait, you should do that again!" [⪩. .⪨] ── heeseung LOVES when you ride him.
[⪩. .⪨] ── warning: 18+, smut, mdni, pinv!, riding (duh), dom!evan, explicit content, sub!reader, unprotected sex, sexual content
[⪩. .⪨] ── heev4n!: this is short and ass but oh well!
heeseung loves when you ride him, it was such a turn on whenever you were on top of him. he would go absolutely feral just at the sight of you.
"fuck princess….just like that.." he groans as his head is thrown back against the soft cushion. your hands rested against his chest as you softly glided your lower body in smooth motions, generating a sweltering heat to flow through his body. his teeth latch onto his bottom lip, trying to suppress his moans but every sound that left his throat caused him to choke on his breath.
"f-fuck— you ride me so good baby." his soft voice, sweeter than honey, only added to the overwhelming pleasure as your minds were losing every train of thought, every word — only to be replaced with sounds that couldn't be controlled. his soft, velvety hands find themselves on your waist, feeling every movement you make as his bambi focused eyes scan your body, cherishing every little detail like time was slowing down.
you could feel his grip tighten against your waist with his eyes dark and possessive that makes your stomach twist with butterflies. the pleasure only grows more intense as you grew more sensitive. "heeseung i-i'm getting close…" you whimper, dripping with desperation and his grip only tightens.
"me too baby — keep riding me….feels so fucking good." he groans lowly and dark. the sensation was overwhelming, nerves thrumming beneath your skin as his dick was massaging your gummy walls, your skin coated with the mixture of slicks sticking onto your skin as you begin to feel your limit approaching.
your hips continue to grind and heeseung's hands on your hips were digging into your skin, feeling his nails push through your skin, leaving crescent shaped marks. he could feel your core tighten, signalling that you were getting close. you were squeezing him so tight, his sensitivity only growing, making his body jolt.
"hee— i'm gonna!" you yell out, grinding faster as a wave of pleasure crashes over your body like a tidal wave, with puddles of your cum drowning his dick.
you feel a warm splash fill your womb as you were catching your breath as his breathing became slow and gentle, watching his chest heave up and down carefully.
"let's do that again." he says.
"do that again?"
heev4n!: long time no see....
A LITTLE CLOSE THIS TIME [¯◉°] 이희승/EVAN
film features…….bsf!Heeseung & bsf!freader
film contains…….You are doing skin care for your best friend by sitting on his lap as usual, while he is gaming, but accidentally grind on him, ending up with his cock inside you
film caution …….MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Unprotected sex(don’t do it) dry humping, making out/ kissing, grinding, fingering, edging, nipple play, talking abt fem!reader body parts, neck kisses, nipping the neck, spanking, usage of the word ass, clit play?, mentions of nick names like baby and etc, riding, tell me if anything more should be mentioned.
film length………5.2min(5.2k)
film keeper whispers ……….This is my first ever time publishing fic, I’m learning to write since I imagine a lot, I want to get it into words and now I got an idea for this with the help of Pinterest 😪. I tried my best, and slowly I’m gonna start my oneshot, idk how long it’s gonna be 🤷♀️. If any mistakes, let me know. Please request if u want anything. I will try my best to write butI’m a slow writer 😢. Would love moots, reblogs and likes ♥️ (part two)
film melody playing……….. into you- ariana grande
˚ ༘ 🎞️ 。𖦹 ° 🎥 ⁀જ⁀➴ film starting……..
The chaotic bursts of neon light from the monitors washes over the room, casting long, jagged shadows against the walls of Heeseung’s room.
The room smells of expensive cologne, ozone from the humming PC, carrying the faint and sterile scent of rosewater and gentle soap in the air.
You are seated on Heeseung’s lap, straddling his hips, knees around them, on his chair, facing him in a position that the friction of your thighs against his jogger’s can’t be ignored.
Heeseung is fully concentrating on his game for now.
His eyes are sharp, darting to every move in the game, playing it very carefully though you are quite a distraction to him.
The headset he has on is filled with sounds of explosions and gunshots, and he pushes one piece of the headset aside so he can hear you.
You hold a small glass jar aloe vera gel, the product cool and smooth between your fingertips.
You’ve been massaging it on his face for the past ten minutes or maybe you just use it as an excuse to stay on his lap longer.
But then still, you don’t care about the game he was playing, you just wanted to end the ‘washing face with whatever soap is there in the shower’ routine for him, so he can get good and fresh skin.
“Stop moving idiot” you murmur, voice soft but firm and commanding him a little because he keeps on moving.
You can feel the heat radiating from him as you blend the cream on his face in small upwards circles.
His jaw is clenched, trying his best not to feel you and your stupid tactics as a distraction, which you are sitting innocently on his lap like you don't understand what’s wrong in doing this.
“I’m in an important fight, Y/N” he grunts, though there’s no real anger behind his voice.
“If I lose this round, I’m gonna blame you and your so-called skincare routine” he adds, mocking lightly.
“Uhh, my skincare routine is obviously way better than whatever you do in the stupid shower,” you retort, sliding your fingers on his temple now.
“No soap is gonna clean your face like my skincare does, your skin feel shit, and it’s screaming for help, so think of this as an upgrade for your face”
He lets out a laugh, his eyes fixed towards the screen. “Sure,” he says as if it’s nothing, “My skin has a mouth and it’s screaming”.
You roll your eyes at that, moving a little back so you can look at him even though he doesn’t.
“Just because it doesn’t have a loud, cocky mouth like you, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” you shoot back.
“And for your kind information,” you continue, leaning closer to his face again, to spread the gel on his face, “You’re skin is so dehydrated, maybe it looks fine, but it really isn’t, so be grateful”
“I should be— What? grateful? Why? And what? I have a cocky mouth?” he splutters, turning towards you showing an exaggerated, horrified expression which was totally just acting.
"First place, I don’t even care about my skin, Second, you should be grateful that I’m letting you do this while I’m literally in the middle of a serious fight, Third—”
“Hey, dont move!,” you interrupt, pushing back his face towards the screen.
“I can’t do it properly, if you keep moving” you add and he becomes quiet and goes back to playing his game very seriously.
You slowly get even more closer to his face.
For real, you’ve done this almost a hundred times before, sitting on his lap touching his face and all stuff, but today something in the air feels different.
For the first time the closeness doesn’t feel normal.
It feels dangerous, surreal and maybe something new.
Every time he breathes near you, every time his chest brushes against yours, you feel your pulse raise.
You try to ignore it, focusing your attention back to what you are doing, but it only makes it worse, because now, you’re actually looking at him.
The sharp line of his nose, the long lashes that fall against his skin, the bambi-like looking eyes, and then your gaze drops down— unintentionally.
You blink, realizing you are staring at him, you shake your head slightly to clear it, pushing those sudden, distracting thoughts away as quickly as they come.
You don't want to be caught by him, which will only make it more embarrassing.
You quickly turn back to your work— properly this time.
So, you shift your weight, moving closer to him, trying to adjust the position so reaching the bridge of his nose would be easier.
As you move, your thighs slide against his joggers, hips very slightly against each other, the friction sending a sudden spark through your body, but you push it away.
It was just a small moment for you, which you just want to ignore, but it sent a shudder through Heeseung’s body which you didn’t know.
“Fuck—” Heeseung groans, throwing his head back against the chair, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down, suddenly gripping your hip with one hand so tightly as you freeze at the pressure.
“Don’t—Don’t fucking do that, I’m trying my best to concentrate, baby” he forces out softly, the words tight as he grits his teeth.
You don’t understand what happened.
One second, you’re applying the gel on his face, moving closer to reach his nose—and the next, he throws his head against the chair and it’s pissing you since you already told him to not move.
“I said to not move, Heeseung!! And seriously, it’s not my mistake that you can’t concentrate on your game” you say, a hint of irritation slipping through your voice.
You don’t understand what is wrong or what is his problem, even though it was quite obvious you couldn’t figure it out, so you just get back to working on his face.
You shift your weight again, trying to adjust your position to get a better angle on his face, slightly moving left.
This movement causes your leggings to unintentionally rub your thigh against his growing hardness.
“Baby, fuck—“ he rasps, as his other hand also leaves keyboard to grab the other side of your hip and holds you so tightly with both of the hands that you were sure it will leave few bruises by tomorrow.
His head abruptly falls on your shoulder as the room fills with the loud harsh blares from the monitor which indicates he lost the game but you didn’t know it.
“Heeseung what the—” before you could even scold him, you gasp from him pulling you down, pressing you against him in a way that you can feel his big bulge on your core.
“Heeseung….” you whisper, your voice trembling.
“Don’t—fucking don’t,” he starts, speaking as his head is still on your shoulder, you hear it in his voice, how he is trying his all best to control himself.
“Don’t tell me stop when all I was doing was sitting here….trying my all best to control myself, while here you are sitting on my fucking lap, moving how ever you want……. God! Y/N you’ve been killing me here, I can’t stop anymore—”
He stops talking, lifting his head from your shoulder before capturing your lips in a searing, aching, desperate kiss, hands moving from your hips to your waist, gripping it so tightly it knocks the air out of your lungs.
He kisses you rough, like gentleness isn’t even an option right now, like he’s done holding back, done pretending this doesn’t mean anything as the gel smears on your face from his face.
All the years of your friendship, when he did his best to hold back, but now he’s done.
For a second you forget how to breathe, the intensity, the desperation and the desire from his mouth against yours, knocking the thoughts out of your brain.
You don’t even process the fact that HE, HE, your best friend is kissing you right now. Never in a million years did you think this out of all would happen—a lie you had a lot of sex dreams with him cuz he was too hot, and……..never mind.
You are still trying to process this when the grip on your waist tightens to pull you out of your thoughts.
The jar slips from your hand, shattering into pieces, and gel spreads everywhere on the floor, but you don’t even notice it.
You melt against him, your hand slowly moving from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, fingers curling tightly in the hair as you pull him closer and kiss him back with the same desire, desperation and intensity.
He lets out a low deep growl, something filled with satisfaction like he knew you would kiss him without holding back.
It vibrates through your whole body, slowly heat starts coiling up in your lower belly more than what you felt a while ago.
You start feeling needy and want him more than you ever did.
But then he pulls back, forehead against yours, his breath hot, and his lips swollen from the hard rough kiss.
“Tell me to stop—” he whispers against your mouth in a low hoarse, octave voice which sends a shiver through your body.
You shake your head instantly before he can even finish.
“No,” you whisper, the word barely leaving your throat. “Don’t. Please don’t ”
You roll your hips against his voluntarily.
You need more.
You need the friction to not be a tease and start being the truth. The reality.
“Fuck—“ Heeseung hisses the moment he hears the deny and feels the roll of your hips directly against his bulge.
This time you’ve done it on purpose, you need more and you are clearly showing it.
He roughly grabs your jaw,tilting your head back, and crashing his lips on to yours again.
This time it’s all tongue and teeth, he doesn’t ask for permission, he claims it like it’s his.
You gasp into the kiss, this was more aggressive and desperate han before.
He takes his chance to enter his tongue into your mouth when you gasp.
His tongue plunges into your mouth, taking in your whispers and every inch of your mouth, he doesn’t waste a single single second.
His palm is hot.
He moves his hand from your waist to your hips as they slowly slip under your long hoodie or probably his which you wear all the time.
His hands move on your lower back, pulling you closer that there isn’t a millimetre also left between you both.
He breaks the kiss to move lower, his lips dragging along your jaw, sucking gently, before moving down to the column of your throat.
You tilt your head back without thinking, giving him more, your fingers going to his shoulders to hold tightly as his kisses grow firmer, more lingering.
“Hee….mm….Hee…” your breath stutters, his name coming from your mouth like a chant, unsteady whispers, which you can’t hold back anymore.
His hand moves down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before delivering a spank.
His palm against your ass made you leave out a loud gasp, your back arching slightly.
He doesn’t pull away, he soothes it down slowly, in a way it makes your toe curl.
The literal sensation sends sparks right over to your core, making you clench a round nothing.
He starts placing open mouthed kisses near your collarbone and neck, his breath hot and damp, leaving the warmth of his mouth behind.
He moves below your ear, instantly financing your sweet spot and nips your skin lightly.
You let out a sharp cry, breathing unsteadily.
The moment you let it out, he leans in again, nipping it harder than before, sucking a dark, purple mark, visibly claiming you.
He follows down to your collarbone, nipping wherever he finds your sweet spots to let out those sweet little sounds that feel like music to his ears.
You don’t stop, you keep whimpering his name, gasping when his tongue darts out to lick gently after nipping on your sweet spots.
You are drenched.
Your panties are suffocatingly tight because of the silk clinging to your folds as you leak for him.
You need him.
You need to feel full.
You were sure it is making it hard to even take in air properly just because of his hot kisses on your body.
One of his hands tugs the hem of your hoodie, asking you permission if he was allowed to remove it while he was still busy marking you up.
“Yes! Please—remove it” you please, your voice cracking a little bit.
He doesn’t even take a second to tug it off, the moment you accept it, in one fluid motion he pulls it off you.
For a second he freezes.
You aren’t wearing a bra, the cool air hitting your bare skin, making your nipples harden and maybe you weren’t even sure if it was air or his gaze all over your body making you turn again and again and again…..
You aren’t wearing anything else except the black lace of your panties peeking out of your tiny shorts you wore.
“Fuck baby—” he growls, his eye’s darkening, pupils expanding until his hazel is almost entirely black.
He looks at you like you’re both sin and miracle given to him at once.
“This is what you have been gatekeeping from me, huh?” he asks, his hands moving to cup the underside of your breast, lifting them up slightly, as his thumb slightly grazes over the peck.
You whimper, throwing your head back at that little touch surge of pleasure shoots to your core.
“This tiny waist,” his hands moving to the mid section, squeezing the softness there, devouring your body with his eyes.
“These wide, beautiful hips,” his finger moving on the waistband, pulling the elastic tight.
He bends a little, pressing a hot, lingering kiss right above the fabric of your panties, his lips grazing the skin of your hip.
The sensation sends a jolt through your body, sending shivers as your legs shake.
“Including the ass you’ve been teasing me with for years,” he said his voice filled with lust and love, and then he looks at you, how you look wrecked just for his touch.
He spanks you again, harder and more firm this time.
You cry out, a sound filled with shock, pleasure and pain, but please wins it all for now.
You thought he would probably soothe it again but no, it was paining harder but he made no movement to touch or soothe it, just casually leans back on to the chair.
He just lets it linger there, making it a reminder for you.
To remind you, who you actually belong to though he hasn’t fucked the shit out you yet.
Now his gaze isn’t on your face, it moves lower.
Your neck. No
Your collarbone. No
Your Shoulders. No
Just shamelessly, directly looking at your breasts with a hungry gaze, something you wanted to see all along.
“And finally……these beautiful, big boobs” he whispers.
He bends down, his lips hovering right over your breast, his hot breath teasing your nipples.
And then he pecks it…..to just tease you more.
The moment his hot breath was on your nipple.
Just his hot breath.
Hot.
Breath.
You found yourself getting hungrier for him, you didn’t want him to tease you, you needed him, right then and there.
He knew it, he knew how you felt, how you are breathing, how you need him, but won’t give you what you want right now.
“Hee please—” you grind on him again but he holds back your hips making you stop, before you please again or tell him how badly you need him.
Then he starts sucking it, like he can’t hold back anymore, like this was the last thing left on the earth, maybe even like he was thirsty for them.
He wants to tease you, but couldn't hold himself back from you either, that grinding, those pleas from your mouth, made him rethink his decision from teasing you.
You could hear his sucking sounds, wet and vulgar, because of the wetness of his saliva spreading on to your nipples.
Your back arches, your hands instinctively find his hair, gripping it tightly.
He groans at the tight pull of his hair, making him harder underneath.
He sucks on your nipples, tongue circling around the peck, and tugging it slightly before sucking it again, doing the same thing over and over again, while his other hand finds your breast, squeezing, kneading it and rolling your nipple in between his fingers.
You moan, loud, honest, no stopping.
The pleasure was too good.
Your hips start bucking instantly against his bulge again, rolling your hips harder than before, grinding more.
He notices it as he pulls back from sucking with a wet plop.
“Eager now baby?” He teases, his voice dropping low.
You nod, hips moving harder, searching for friction.
For a second he thought to let you do something at least for yourself or not stopping you like he was before but no, straight away his hands move to your hips stopping you right when you thought it was getting better.
Then he bends down and moves to the other breast without a word to you, giving it the same attention as before, while his other hand was on the breast which was wet from his saliva, but still playing with it, satisfying you with his hand.
It was good, undeniably you like you, but the fact that your pussy was throbbing to be filled was not ignorable.
You didn't want to wait.
“Hee….please…please..I need you so bad—ahh” you let out a sharp cry as he bites down your nipples, his hands lowering, across your thighs and rids your shorts from your legs without asking you.
“Needy baby?” He asks as he pulls back, like knew nothing.
“Hee—ahhh” you moan when his fingers touch the wetness of your pussy just through the lace black panties.
“So wet for me baby” he coos as he feels the moisture soaking through the lace.
He finally strips them away also, leaving you bare on his lap, pressing against him.
The contact is sharp, as now you are directly pressing against the rough fabric over his bulge.
He finds his way to your clit, pressing on the swollen bud right away, rubbing it in circles with no patience, but with punishing pressure that makes your vision blur.
Your mouth opens, letting out sharp breaths, eyes shut, finally getting whatever you’ve been longing for, you instinctively bite down on your lips as choked sobs and moans come out of your throat.
“No baby, don’t bite your lip, don’t stop, moan for me, darling” he says softly, before pushing 2 fingers into your soaking warmth at once.
You scream from the sudden push, it wasn’t warned, it was too sudden.
He starts pushing deeper into your spongy walls, as your walls clench around his fingers, he groans in your neck, his fingers curling in spots making you moan and vision blur from the pleasure.
“Fuck baby, thats it, take my fingers like a good girl” he finally adds the third finger, stretching you apart as you wail, and then heeseung leans to kiss you again, tongue entering your mouth directly, taking in all your sounds while pumping his fingers in and out, while his thumb presses and circles on your bud.
He moves faster, pulling away from the kiss, gripping your hips tightly while pumping his fingers faster, your hands move to his shoulders tightening as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, while whimpering and gasping, leaving out breathy huffs.
As you feel your orgasm building, tightening low in your belly, just the tension in your thighs becomes unbearable.
“Hee— I’m—” before could even finish your sentence, he pulled out his fingers, just only the pad of his thumb pressing over your swollen clit, trapping the pleasure before it could explode.
Your eyes open wide, blown in shock as a moan of frustration screeches from your throat at the literal loss of his fingers inside.
“Hee, why–” you gasp, hips bucking instinctively towards his hand wanting more.
“Mmm” he just hums, looking down at your pussy while circling your clit, rubbing it in small circles but never quite providing the friction you need to tip over the edge.
“Hee, please!” you whine, trying to grind his hand, but he holds your hip tight enough to not let you move, he is still looking at your pussy, but then finally looks up.
Eyes dark with lust, his smoldering gaze at you making you pause for a second before he says “please, what?” in a low octave, his voice sounding husky.
“I-I need to come,” you wail, grinding on his bulge over his rough fabric making you want more, in fact you’ve never felt this needy.
Him edging you just made it worse, you couldn't take the teasing now, you need him and you won't stop asking for it.
“please hee please I need you, I want you so badly. I can’t take it anymore!!” you beg.
He chuckles, a dark, hungry sound.
He doesn't put his fingers back in you or do anything you asked for.
Instead, he starts to kiss you, deep, demanding kisses that taste of mint and desperation.
The intensity of the kiss swallows you while leaving you breathless and your hands move to his head, running your hands through his long, lustrous black hair.
His tongue slides against yours, sucking and swirling desperately while sliding down his joggers and boxer to pull his cock out.
He pulls away from the kiss, pulling your head back away from his.
You look down into his hands and the moment you saw it, you were starstuck.
He is big.
Not big like you think, very big in a way you weren't sure if you could even take him.
It was shocking.
You knew this was coming, when you guys crossed your lines today but god he is just so big.
His cock is big, fucking standing straight, curling a little but still so so straight in way you never stood in your whole life, wow, it is hot and swollen, throbbing as the tip is in a beautifully pink color, glistening with precum as he held the shaft in his hand.
You are staring at it shamelessly, because who wouldn't look at something so beautiful and gorgeous.
“Like what you see baby?” he asks, when he caught you staring at his cock.
You snap out of your thoughts, raising your head up, eyes locking on to his eyes, as your cheeks burn from embarrassment.
“Want it inside you baby?” he questions as he feels your arousal just by looking at you face.
You nod slightly and that's what it takes before he jerks it on your pussy once, slapping his cock against it a few times, spreading his precum all over.
An unfiltered screech comes out of your throat, showing how needy you are when he slaps the tip on your pussy.
You move a little, rubbing it a little on his cock, whimpering a little.
“You want it so bad right? You’ll get it baby” he doesn't wait another second.
He grips your waist and heaves you upward and then slams you down on to his cock.
Your hands find their way to his shoulders as you scream into the crook of his neck when he buries himself, all the way to the hilt inside you in one fluid, powerful motion.
The fullness is overwhelming, a blunt pressure that hits your cervix and sends ripples of pleasure radiating through your entire lower body.
The sensation is overwhelming, the feeling of being completely filled, the stretch of your pussy, the sudden, intense heat of him deep within your pussy.
You feel your internal muscles spasm around him, clamping down tight, clenching it so tight which makes Heeseung leave a raw guttural growl out feeling you all around him.
His cock twitches inside you, showing how badly he needed this.
“Baby–fuck, so tight…you feel so good baby” he says, his hands sliding down to your ass gripping.
You stay still for a moment, both of you catching your breath, the only sound the heavy thrum of the PC fans and your synchronized gasping.
The gaming chair creaks as you begin to move, tentatively at first, lifting your hips a few inches and then sliding back down.
You only lift an inch before slamming back down, the impact making the gaming chair rock precariously.
The feeling of him filling inside you was so so good, that you didn't care about anyone hearing your moans, as your moans echo all through the room.
Your grip on his shoulder tightens as the pleasure of him being inside you, stretching you apart with his cock was the best feeling you ever felt.
The squelching and wet sounds of your pussy moving on his cock, taking him all the way down to his shaft, then moving back halfway, and falling back down, with your moans and Heeseung’s groans fill you the room.
The sounds are lewd, obscene or even pornographic, it didn't feel real.
You riding your best friend's cock feels like a dreaming true.
You slowly find your rhythm, more confident, more desperate.
Your mouth falls agape, moaning loudly every time you ride him, head falls back as the tip hits that spot that makes you see stars, your breasts bounce with every downward thrust, your hardened nipples scrape against his shirt every time.
“Yes, just like that baby” he groans as his head hits the chair, while he grips your ass and starts lifting you higher so he can move deeper.
You are desperate now, the need for release overriding everything.
The friction against your clit is intense, a searing heat that builds with every slide.
You lean forward, your hair falling over your face, your mouth finding his again.
The kiss is sloppy, desperate, the sound of your tongues clashing mixing with the wet slaps of your bodies.
Tentatively, Heeseung also starts moving his hips up, thrusting upward slowly, testing the waters to see how it would be.
And fuck it, it was so so so good.
“Ahh” you moan as the tip of his cock hits deeper in your pussy, as your walls clench around him in pleasure.
You scream into his mouth, it is so intense, your pussy takes him all the way on to his shaft.
You keep riding him until you feel that low tingling feeling in your lower stomach.
You are about to come, you needed it any minute now.
You are moving faster, breath uneven, shamelessly moaning so loudly, you are sure your neighbours could hear it but you couldn't care less.
“Ngh heee” you wail, you dont know if its pain or pleasure or all together but it was good and stretching you apart and finally you are about to come.
“Hee–hee i-m im coming!!” you choke out, the orgasm is about to come as he moves his hips faster, thrusting harder.
“Yes baby, yes, come for me, come on my cock baby” he says, holding your hips, gripping it so hard, it could leave red marks on it and speeding up the movements, slamming you down onto his cock, taking control.
“Ahh–mm yess, yess im coming!!” you throw your head back, a loud, uncontrolled cry escaping your lips as waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you breathless and shaking.
Heeseung doesnt stop, he fucks you through it, chasing his orgasm.
“Hee—” you scream so loudly, it was too much, you are overstimulating, you coat his cok, milking it all the way.
“I-i cant..too much–”
“Yess, you can, you can for me baby” his movements becoming faster, more erratic. He's grunting now, the sounds guttural and raw.
He lifts you slightly and then slams you down, the leather of the chair creaking loudly under the strain.
The sound of your pussy engulfing him is a wet, rhythmic squelch, the air being pushed out of your orifice in small, needy puffs.
“Im-im coming baby” he moves faster again and again.
“Im gonna fill you up, you’re gonna take me like a good girl and fill you up right?” he says as he looks at you and captures your lips into kiss again.
You feel him tense, his entire body turning to stone beneath you.
With one final, deep thrust that feels like it reaches your very soul, he lets out a loud, guttural roar, his entire body tensing.
He gives one final, massive thrust, burying himself as deep as possible as you feel the hot, pulsing jets of his cum hitting your cervix, filling you up, the liquid warmth spreading through your internals.
“Fuck–take it baby”
You moan as he fills you up, while he grunts and finally comes undone inside you which felt so so so good.
As the intensity fades, he doesn't move.
He keeps you pressed against him, his heart hammering against your ribs.
You can feel his cock slowly softening inside you, though he remains deep within. A small amount of semen and lubricant leaks from the junction of your bodies, dripping onto the black leather of the chair with a soft patter.
“That was–soo good” you whisper to him.
He smiles, that goddamn smile that melts you right away, probably even your bones.
He pushes a wet hair stand behind your hair as he finally speaks.
“Very good. Are you happy?” he asks and that genuinely made you feel happy that he was asking your opinion.
You nod, you look wrecked so did he, both of you breathing heavily, faces flushed.
“Are you ok?” he asks you sweetly after showing his dark side which you loved and so did you like that gentleness in his which made your heart filp and beat faster.
You blush as you nod and hide your face in the crook of his neck.
“Dont hide baby” he pulls you back cupping your face.
“Mm” you whine sweetly.
He kisses your forehead gently.
"So," he says, a small, tired smile playing on his lips. "I think I lost that match."
You let out a soft laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder.
"Worth it?"
"The best loss of my life," he whispers, kissing your temple.
Heeseug twitches inside you, making you whimper.
“You’re still inside me hee” you say to him as it hurts a little but don't bother but it's still sticky and messy altogether.
But then he shrugs it off as if it's nothing, you frown and ask him “what?” and try to pull away.
He doesn't let you, he slams you back down as you scream and squeal from shock.
“Hee–” then while you are still inside him, he abruptly stands up, while still holding you tightly around your waist and still inside you.
“Ready for round 2 baby?” he asks as you widen your eyes in shock while his cock gets stiff all the way till his shaft again.
“Hee~” he crashes his lips on to yours slamming you onto the wall and starts moving inside you.
˚ ༘ 🎞️ 。𖦹 ° 🎥 ⁀જ⁀➴ film ending.......
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