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@w2hoonki
I love you, baby, baby, baby
외쳐대느라 내 진심을 동네방네 다 알아 (네가 좋아)
amelia / millie | 18 | she / they | your fav hoonki writer
ults ! (in order) enhypen, boynextdoor, tubatu
your average girl who plays clarinet
requests : i mainly do the basics, i will not write anything that involves harm to anyone. i also make links hehe
ao3 instagram x repost acc mlist
thinkin abt hole inspection w all the members at once im drooling
uhm um ummm im sick … that’s what ! i honestly don’t even know what to say… what immediately came into mind is doctors enha. idk how but please trust me on this. i don’t even know actually please be nice to me
contains: doctors dom ot7 enhypen x patient sub reader, everyone is in the medical field w/ gynecologist jay + dentist jake + surgeon heeseung, noncon, medical malpractice ?, hole inspection, mouth play, video recording, this is moreso suggestive !! lmk what i missed ♡ don’t like it? don’t read it!
what starts as a quick trip to the gyne turns into something so much more. you don’t even know how you got here, but after months since becoming a regular patient, coming in every other week for a check up with your doctor jay, you’ve become well acquainted with him. so much so that you trust him and his intern fully…
“see this? her walls flutter when you look at her too long. it’s like she can sense our eyes on her.”
“god she’s so wet, you’re right jay.” his friend sunghoon intercepts. he has to restrain himself from sticking a finger or two in you, needing to feel the gumminess of your insides himself…
you on the other hand can barely say a word since jay’s dentist friend, who happened to have come to meet up and go hang out with him, sat on the chair by your head with the pads his fingers pressing onto each and every single one of your 32 teeth. it’s jake, a perfect smile forming on his face as he tells the boys, “can’t feel a single cavity… such perfect teeth she’s got. it’s a shame really, otherwise i’d get to see you at my office too. now suck, sweet tooth.” at his command, your lips unwillingly wrap around his index and middle fingers, tongue tasting the rubbery plastic of his glove.
“we came to watch her pussy jake, not her mouth,” sunoo says from the side, hands wrapped tightly in front of his chest as he watches how your drool slicks onto his glove, fingers thrusting in and out at a pace that got you quickly comfortable with them in your mouth.
“hey! her mouth’s a hole too! never fucked a mouth before huh ‘noo? gotta make sure she can take it all,” he replies as he pushes his fingers deeper into your throat, making you choke. “‘s ok cupcake, you’re doing so well.”
on the other end, with jay and sunghoon, heeseung kneels until his face is level with your pussy, clamps spreading it apart as he gulps at the sight. “pay attention riki, and hold the camera still alright?”
riki is heeseung’s intern, but everyone knows that he got that job through connections. otherwise why would a guy so lousy at his job get this chance with the top surgeon lee heeseung of all residents?
“yes sir,” he’s timid. his hand holds onto the camera that points right at your gaping hole, the senior’s lips kissing your ass. you moan from behind the curtain, the blue separating your lower body from your upper body—it’s routine that you got accustomed to, but what you thought would be a pap smear turned out to instead be an invitation to have the rest of the boys do as they please with you, some known yet most unknown.
out of the bunch, you were only familiar with jay, and his intern, jungwon. the same jungwon you thought was a sweet angel, simply following the doctor’s orders and helping him whenever you come for a check up, turned out to be obscenely obsessed with your tits… his mouth licked at your nipples as his hand squeezed the other, feeling the nubs hardening under his touch, or maybe because of how cold it is in the room. he’s always had to keep it in whenever you came in and he could tell you didn’t wear a bra because your nipples we’re soooo hard under your shirts and dresses… the same jungwon who strapped you down to the table, locking your feet and hands in place so you don’t move away, because this has been jay’s plan all along:
to have all of his friends over to do what he’s been aching to do with you since you first entered his room with a smile so innocent, contrasting your pussy he couldn’t resist touching every time, always writing you up for a new examination very soon.
now you’re stuck. you have to tough it out, no other option.
Teaser : Private Tutor
pairing: heeseung x fem!reader
genre: tutor x student, smut
synopsis: heeseung is the top student hired as your private tutor — always in glasses, striped shirt, and cardigan, looking like the perfect nerdy boyfriend.
late-night tutoring sessions turn into something much more when the tension finally snaps.
warnings: 18+ content, smut, minors dni
￣￣
a/n: hihi~ hope it makes your heart race as much as it did mine while writing it. enjoy the study sessions <3
taglist is open! comment or send an ask to be added ♡
likes and reblogs are highly appreciated!
i keep remembering this one post about ni-ki having reader grab his dick bc she had a staring problem if you have that send link?:??
i still remember her 😓
☁︎ . , BETTER THAN HIM? , P.SH & S.JY 18+
PAIRING: bf ! sunghoon × afab reader × bf’s best friend jake. SYNOPSIS: you didn't know how you ended up in this situation with your boyfriend and his best friend, maybe they planned it... maybe they didn't.. but you didn't mind it now. GENRE: basically a threesome short fic, started with jake commenting how y/n would prefer his cock better. WARNING(S): NSFW, MDNI, unprotected sex, fingering, blowjob, jealousy, nipple play, licking precum, creampie, the reader has consented to!! WORD COUNT: 1.4k [LIBRARY]
The wet sound of Jake’s fingers sliding in and out of your slick cunt fills the room, mixing with your muffled whimpers. Your thighs tremble, tightening around his wrist as he pushes you closer to the edge. The sheets beneath you are soaked with your essence, the heavy scent of sex hanging in the air.
Jake’s smug smile grows wider, his fingers shining with your arousal as he raises them for Sunghoon to see. “Damn, she's really soaked,” he mocks, his tone oozing confidence. “Is she always this wet... even with you, Sunghoon?”
Sunghoon’s jaw tightens, his hands clenching into fists, knuckles white from the effort to hold back. The desire to wipe that irritating grin off Jake's face, to make him pay for touching what belongs to him, is nearly unbearable. Of course he doesn't want this. Of course you're not usually this wet. This eager, this desperate for anyone's touch but his. Not with him. Never with him.
So why now? Why with Jake? The question eats away at him, shaking his confidence. Is Jake just better, more experienced? Does he know something Sunghoon doesn’t? The thought makes him feel sick.
You lie there, lost and overwhelmed, your mind spinning. You can’t grasp why Sunghoon brought Jake here, into your bedroom. Into your bed. You bite down hard on your lower lip, trying to stifle the moans that threaten to escape as Jake adds a second finger.
A single tear slips down your cheek, and Sunghoon is immediately at your side. He gently wipes it away, leaning in close. “It’s okay,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “You can let go. Feel it. React.”
Sunghoon’s teeth grazes your sensitive nipple, sending jolts of painful pleasure through your body. He suckles roughly, tugging and twisting the other peak between his fingers. It's a stark contrast to the gentle, worshipful way he usually touches you when it's just the two of you. It feels like he's trying to mark you, claim you, and assert his territory against Jake’s bold advances.
The dual sensations of Sunghoon’s mouth on your breast and Jake's fingers pumping in your dripping cunt are almost overwhelming. You arch off the bed, a long, keening moan escaping your lips. But neither Sunghoon nor Jake lets up, working you from both ends with relentless focus.
“Can I put it in?” Jake asks Sunghoon, his voice low and rough with lust. Sunghoon just shrugs, deflecting the question.
“Don't ask me, ask her. It's her body.”
Jake turns to you, his eyes dark with desire. You bite your lip, torn between the conflicting feelings of shame and arousal. You glance at Sunghoon uncertainly, but he's busy biting and sucking at your tits, your fingers tangled in his hair. The sharp sting of pain mingles with the pleasure, making you gasp.
You hesitate, giving a small nod, unsure if you can trust your voice. Jake flashes a grin, quickly pulling down his boxers and positioning himself at your entrance. You're so wet and ready that he slides in with hardly any resistance, stretching you around his thick length.
“Wow, this feels amazing,” Jake groans, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. “I can't believe you’ve been enjoying this for so long. What a lucky guy.”
You let out a whimper as he begins to move, each thrust dragging his cock along your sensitive walls. It’s not that Jake is necessarily bigger than Sunghoon, but he’s in great shape, his muscles flexing as he drives his hips.
Your mind spins as Jake and Sunghoon work together, their cocks stretching you to the limit from both ends. One thick shaft pistons in and out of your dripping cunt, while the other fills your mouth, muffling your desperate whimpers. It’s almost overwhelming, the fullness, the wet sounds of their coupling.
Sunghoon grips your hair, guiding your head as he thrusts gently between your lips. “That’s it, baby” he breathes, his voice thick with pleasure. “Such a good girl, taking both of us like a champ.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, and tears begin to leak from the corners of your eyes. The salty taste of pre-cum coats your tongue as you swirl it around Sunghoon's length, hollowing your cheeks to take him deeper.
Jake sets a relentless pace, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. The lewd squelch of your sopping wet pussy being pounded fills the room, mixing with the sound of your wet gagging.
It's filthy and degrading, everything you never knew you craved. The taboo thrill of being used like this, sandwiched between two hard, pulsing cocks, sends you hurtling towards the edge embarrassingly quickly.
Your inner walls flutter and clench around Jake's thrusting shaft as your orgasm crashes over you. You moan around Sunghoon's cock, the vibrations making him groan and tighten his grip on your hair.
“She came too soon...” Jake chuckles breathlessly, his thrusts never faltering. “Guess we know who the real stud is, huh Sunghoon?”
Sunghoon's jaw clenches, his ego bruised by the implication. He bucks his hips, driving his cock deeper down your throat until you gag and splutter.
Sensing Jake about to cum. Sunghoon yanks his throbbing cock out of your mouth, his face twisted in a scowl as he roughly shoves Jake away from you. “Told you not to cum inside her,” he warns, his voice low and dangerous. “Only I get to do that.”
Jake holds his hands up in surrender, nodding quickly. “Understood, man. My bad.” He steps back, giving you both some space as he watches Sunghoon line up his cock and plunge into your dripping cunt.
You moan wantonly as your boyfriend's familiar length stretches you open, your tongue darting out to lap up the glistening strands of pre-cum that dribble down your chin. The taste is intoxicating, salty and musky, and you can't help but crave more.
Sunghoon grips your hips tightly, setting a punishing pace as he pounds into you. The wet, obscene slap of skin on skin fills the room, intermingling with your desperate whimpers and moans. “Better?” he pants, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
“Mmm... you always feel better than anyone...” you murmur breathlessly, and it's not even a lie. No matter how good Jake felt stretching you open, nothing compares to the way Sunghoon fills you up, hitting all the right spots with each powerful thrust.
Sunghoon's eyes darken with desire at your words, his hips thrusting forward with renewed intensity. “Yeah? You really mean that, baby?” he breathes, leaning down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss.
Your response is lost in a moan as he drives into you particularly deep, his pelvis grinding against your sensitive clit. The added stimulation sends you spiraling over the edge once more, your inner walls tightening around Hoon’s thrusting cock.
“Fuck, I'm gonna... gonna...” He groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his own climax. With a final, guttural moan, he buries himself deep inside you.
You watch through half-lidded eyes as his hips stutter and jerk, his cock pulsing within your fluttering walls as he reaches his peak. Thick ropes of cum fill you, marking you as his, claiming you in the most primal way. The sensation of his warm seed filling you sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, prolonging your own orgasm until you're both left breathless and panting.
As Sunghoon collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, you catch a glimpse of Jake from the corner of your eye. He's standing there, his hand wrapped around his own impressive length, stroking himself with a look of pure fascination on his face.
“Wow, that was something else,” Sunghoon whispers, placing a gentle kiss on your sweaty forehead. “You were amazing, babe.” You can only nod faintly, too exhausted to speak. Your body feels like jelly, every muscle relaxed as the aftershocks of pleasure wash over you. His softening member slips out of you with a wet sound, a small trickle of his release following behind.
Jake clears his throat, breaking the moment. “Well, uh... I guess that answers it. You definitely prefer Sunghoon’s cock,” he says with a light laugh, though his tone is more impressed than teasing.
Sunghoon smirks, rolling off you to lie beside you on the bed. “You know it. What did I say?" He reaches out to give your ass a possessive squeeze, causing you to squeak in surprise.
© senascoop | tumblr
this was one of the first fics i read 🥺
sorry for not writing i’m highkey not a writer 🍎
i feel like i write serious shit all the time. like... i really need to add a bit of humor into my fics ngl
THAT'S WHY I JUST DRAFTED THIS GEM
tag me pls starving for this
wow beautiful boy 🥺
REAL EMOTIONS lee heeseung
summary. heeseung wasn’t the type to get into serious things, especially when it came to relationships and girls. yet when it came to a special someone, his mind just wouldn’t stop thinking about her
content. bad boy x good girl trope, making out, slight jealousy, fluff, suggestive
decelis college was divided in the way most places are; people knew where they belonged, or at least pretended to. there were the students who arrived ten minutes early to every lecture with color-coded notes, who volunteered at the campus food bank, who followed every rule written in the student handbook. and then there was lee heeseung.
heeseung was the definition of the cliche campus bad boy. he rode a matte black motorcycle that rumbled loud enough to turn heads across the quad, wore a worn leather jacket even when the autumn chill had faded, and had a silver hoop in one ear and a faint, dark tattoo curling just above the collar of his dark shirts. he skipped half his classes, spent more time in the parking lot or the edge of campus than in the library, and had a reputation for being sharp, distant, and untouchable. girls were drawn to him; guys either admired his confidence or kept their distance. no one ever got close enough to see what lay beneath the carefully constructed mask.
no one except you.
you were everything he wasn’t. you sat in the front row, took notes, turned every assignment in days early, and were the kind of person who stopped to help anyone who dropped their books or looked lost. you were soft spoken, kind, and careful, the “good girl” everyone assumed would never look twice at someone like heeseung.
but heeseung knew better.
he knew, with a certainty that both satisfied and unsettled him, that he had you wrapped around his finger. he’d seen it unfold slowly over weeks: the way your pen would still mid sentence when he leaned against the lecture hall doorframe. the way your cheeks would flush pink when he called your name in that low, lazy drawl. the way you’d glance away quickly when his eyes met yours, like you were afraid he could read every racing thought in your head. he knew if he stepped closer, your breath would catch. if he brushed his fingers lightly against yours, you’d freeze and then lean in, almost against your own will. it was easy. too easy.
but what no one else knew, what he barely dared admit even to himself was that he was just as trapped.
at first, he’d told himself it was curiosity. a way to pass the time, something different from the usual noise and empty attention. but it had grown into something heavy, something that settled in his chest like a constant, warm ache. he thought about you constantly. when he was speeding down back roads on his bike, he wondered what you were reading. when he sat in the back of a lecture he hadn’t planned to attend, his eyes never left the back of your head. when he lay awake at night, he pictured the way you bit your lip when you focused, the way your hair fell just so over your shoulder, the faint, intoxicating scent of vanilla that always lingered around you. he could have anyone he wanted, bold, confident girls who knew the game and didn’t ask for anything real, but none of them made his hands itch to touch. none of them made his chest feel tight, like he was being pulled toward something he couldn’t control.
he wanted you. so badly it scared him.
the party at the old fraternity house was exactly the kind of event heeseung usually attended. loud, crowded, full of noise and people who didn’t ask too many questions. but tonight, he barely noticed any of it. he leaned against the wall near the stairs, a half-empty cup in his hand, his dark eyes fixed entirely on you across the room.
you’d come with your friends, as you always did, and were standing near the kitchen, laughing softly at something someone said. you looked so out of place in the best way, bright, genuine, untouched by the chaos around you. he watched as a guy from your biology class stepped closer, leaning in to speak to you over the music. heeseung’s jaw tightened almost instantly.
it was irrational, he knew. he had no claim over you. but the sight of someone else smiling at you, leaning in like they had a chance, made something hot and sharp twist in his chest. he took a slow breath, forcing himself to stay still until he saw the guy’s hand brush lightly against your arm, and something in him snapped.
he pushed off the wall, moving through the crowd with that easy, confident stride that made people step aside instinctively. by the time he reached you, his expression had shifted, the lazy charm was gone, replaced by something sharp and possessive.
“mind if i borrow her?” he said, his voice low and steady, carrying a weight that made the other boy’s smile falter.
the guy looked between you and heeseung, clearly recognizing who he was. “uh, sure. no problem.” he stepped back quickly and disappeared into the crowd.
you turned to heeseung, your heart already racing just from being near him. “you didn’t have to do that,” you said, though there was no real bite in your words.
“didn’t i?” he stepped closer, closing the space between you until you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “you looked uncomfortable.”
“i was fine,” you said, but your voice was softer now. “and even if i wasn’t, you don’t get to just step in like that. you act like you don’t care one minute, and then you act like you own me the next. it’s confusing.”
heeseung’s eyes darkened. he ran a hand roughly through his hair, looking away for a split second before locking his gaze back on yours. “you think i don’t care?” he let out a short, humorless laugh. “you think this is just for fun?”
before you could answer, he reached for your hand, his fingers wrapping gently but firmly around yours. “come with me. we need to talk somewhere quieter.”
you hesitated, then let him lead you. he guided you up the stairs, away from the thumping bass and crowded hallways, until he stopped at a door halfway down the corridor. he pushed it open, checked inside, then pulled you in after him and closed it behind you, clicking the lock into place.
the room was empty, clearly a guest bedroom, with a neatly made bed, a desk in the corner, and curtains drawn against the night. the noise from downstairs was muffled, distant, leaving only the quiet hum of the house. it felt like a bubble, separate from everything else.
you stood near the foot of the bed, your heart beating faster now that it was just the two of you. heeseung stood a few feet away, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, looking suddenly unsure, a look you’d never seen on him before.
“you’re right,” he said finally, his voice quieter than it had been downstairs. “i do act like that. i push you away, then i pull you close. i know it’s confusing. i know it’s unfair.”
he took a slow step toward you, his dark eyes searching your face. “and you’re right about one more thing. i know i have you wrapped around my finger. i see the way you look at me. i know if i asked you to stay, you would. If i asked you to come closer, you’d do it without even thinking twice.”
his words made your cheeks heat, but you didn’t look away. “then why do you do it? if you know that, why make me feel like it’s all just a game?”
“because you’re so much more different than me,” he said, the words coming out rough and honest, like he’d been holding them in for months. “look at you. you’re good. you’re steady. you’ve got everything figured out. and me? i’m the guy who skips class, who gets into fights, who doesn’t know how to keep anything good in his life. i tell myself if i keep it light, if i keep it like a game, then i won’t mess it up. then i won’t get hurt.”
he took another step closer, until there was barely a foot of space between you. the air in the room felt thick, charged with all the tension and longing that had built between you for weeks.
“but the worst part?” he continued, his voice dropping to a soft, raw whisper. “it doesn’t work. it never works. i can’t keep it light. i think about you all the time. when i’m riding my bike, when i’m sitting through lectures i don’t care about, when i’m lying awake at night. you’re always there. i can’t get enough. and when i see someone else looking at you, talking to you like they could be what you need… it drives me crazy.”
he lifted his hand slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, before his fingers brushed lightly against your cheek. his touch was surprisingly gentle, a contrast to his tough exterior.
“you don’t even know what you do to me,” he said, the words falling from his lips exactly as he’d carried them in his chest for so long. “you walk around being all sweet and innocent, and you have no idea how hard it is to stand here and not just give in. i know i’m not what you’re supposed to want. i know i’ve got a reputation. but i can’t stop myself. i need you. more than i know how to say.”
your breath caught in your throat. for so long, you’d wondered if he was just playing if the attention was just something to pass the time. but looking at him now, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes, hearing the raw honesty in his voice, you knew it was real.
“i never thought it was all a game,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “i was just scared. because you make me feel things i don’t understand, things i’ve never felt before.”
something in heeseung’s face softened completely. the walls he’d spent so long building crumbled away, leaving only the boy underneath. a small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips, soft, unguarded, nothing like the smirks he usually wore.
“good,” he murmured. “because i feel them too.”
then he leaned down, and his lips met yours.
the kiss was everything you’d imagined and more: slow at first, tentative, heavy with all the unspoken feelings that had been building for weeks. it was sweet, careful, like he was still half afraid this was a dream he’d wake up from. but when you didn’t pull away, when you leaned into him, your hands coming up to rest against his chest, it deepened into something warm and hungry.
heeseung kissed you like he’d been waiting for this for months, like he was trying to pour every thought, every longing, every moment he’d spent thinking about you into the touch. his lips were soft but firm, moving against yours with a mix of urgency and tenderness. when you parted your lips slightly, a low, rough groan rumbled in his throat, and he deepened the kiss further, slow and deliberate.
his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him until there was barely any space left between your bodies. you could feel the heat radiating off him, the steady, fast beat of his heart beneath your palms. one hand tangled gently in your hair, tilting your head back to give him better access, while the other rested firmly at the small of your back, holding you like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.
he tasted like something warm and familiar, and it was intoxicating. you tangled your fingers in the fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer, and he responded by guiding you slowly backward until the back of your legs met the edge of the bed. he lowered you gently onto the mattress, supporting his weight on one arm so he wouldn’t crush you, never breaking the kiss.
his tongue brushed gently against yours, sending sparks of heat spreading through your entire body. he kissed you like he was starving for it, like he couldn’t get close enough, and yet there was a carefulness to it, a constant awareness of you, checking without words that this was what you wanted.
when he finally pulled back just enough to let you breathe, his lips were swollen, his eyes dark and blown wide with desire. he rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily, the noise from downstairs completely forgotten.
“you feel that baby?” he whispered, his voice rough and thick. “thats what you do to me. every single time you look at me. every damn time.”
he kissed you again, slower this time, softer, before his lips began to trail down your jawline, leaving a path of warm, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. he nipped gently at the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you gasp and arch into him, before soothing the skin with a soft, lingering kiss.
“you’re so soft,” he murmured against your neck, his hands sliding slowly up your sides, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of your top. “so good. and you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to touch you like this.”
his touch was warm and reverent, his palms resting flat against your back as he pulled you even closer. you could feel the tension in him, the way he held back just enough to make sure you were comfortable, even as his own desire hummed between you. heeseung had always been confident, even cocky, but now there was a vulnerability in the way he touched you, like he was still half-convinced this was too good to be true.
he pulled back slightly to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours, clear and careful. “is this okay?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady. “tell me if you want me to stop. i won’t do anything you don’t want.”
you shook your head, reaching up to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing gently over his cheekbones. “don’t stop,” you whispered. “please don’t stop.”
“baby,” a shaky breath left him, and his eyes fluttered shut for a second before opening again, darker and more intense than before. “you’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, before his lips found yours again.
this time, the kiss was deeper, hungrier. his hands slid slowly down to your waist, his fingers gripping gently but firmly, pulling you against him until you could feel every line of his body. one hand slipped beneath the hem of your top, his warm palm resting against the bare skin of your lower back, sending a shiver of heat through you.
he kissed you like he was trying to memorize every part of you. the shape of your lips, the way you breathed, the way you responded to his touch. his lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he left a trail of soft, lingering kisses. he nipped gently at the sensitive skin just above your collarbone, making you gasp softly, before soothing it with his tongue, his fingers tracing slow, gentle patterns against your skin.
“you’re mine,” he whispered against your skin, the words rough and possessive but soft at the same time, full of feeling, not just claim. “you know that, right? even when i’m being an idiot, even when i get jealous or push too hard… you’re mine. and i’m yours.”
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours, filled with a mix of longing and uncertainty. “i know i’m not perfect. i know i’ve got a lot to learn. but i swear… i’ll try. i’ll be whatever you need me to be. if you let me.”
you smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of dark hair away from his forehead. “i don’t care about perfect,” you said softly. “i just care about you.”
a slow, genuine smile spread across his face, one that reached his eyes and made him look softer, less like the intimidating guy everyone knew and more like the one who’d been secretly pining after you for months. he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, slower and sweeter than any of the others.
his hands stayed resting gently on your waist, his thumbs brushing slow, soothing circles against your skin, as if he was memorizing the feel of you. when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, both of you breathing a little easier now, the heavy tension turning into something warm and steady.
“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this,” he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. “i think about you every minute of every day. i can’t get you out of my head.”
“good,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close again. “because I don’t want you to.”
🐼 aya’s note. lowkey this was sort of rushed so if anything doesn’t make sense then mb. i also have something thats been cooking in my drafts for like a month so i might be posting that soon :P
hey all just trying to get through this week i hope to start writing again but i’ve run out of furl for ideas and i wish it could come back somehow i have horrible writers block right now 🤷♂️
𝄢 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒
PAIRING : teacher!heeseung × fem!reader
IN WHICH : You have been taking piano lessons with Mr. Lee for months. What began as an innocent hobby quickly turns into an intense, mutual attraction, until the tension finally breaks during a lesson
⚠︎ WARNINGS : explicit content - smut (mdni) including: teacher/student, age gap (not specified), fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, riding, dirty talk, praise kink, light spanking, hickeys/marking, nipple play, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, good girl)
You have been taking piano lessons with Mr. Lee for months. What started as an innocent attempt to pick up a new hobby to relieve stress has slowly turned into something else. Now you attend every class just to see him.
The tension between you has been building day after day. It began with lingering glances across the piano. Then came the gentle touches of his hands when he adjusted your fingers on the keys. And God, his hands were large and veined, you often find yourself staring at his long fingers, imagining how they would feel somewhere else.
He catches himself staring at your lips every time you bite them in concentration. He also notices how carefully you dress for his classes, in those dresses that expose your collarbone and the delicate curve of your breasts, or in those tiny skirts that let him glimpse the lace of your panties.
You both know this is wrong. After all, he is your teacher, older, more experienced. And you are his student, younger, but not entirely innocent.
One afternoon, the air feels heavier than ever. You arrive wearing a tight white dress that clings to your body. He is certain you bought it two sizes too small because the hem barely reaches the middle of your thighs, and your breasts look like they might spill out at any moment.
You are working on chopin's nocturne in e-flat major. Every time you stumble on a complex note, he moves closer.
"Feel it, don't rush." He murmurs, stopping right behind you. You can feel the warmth of his body against your back and smell his masculine cologne.
You turn your head slightly, your faces are only inches apart. His gaze instantly drops to your lips before he suddenly steps back. "Try again."
When the piece finally ends, a heavy silence fills the room. You are aching for him to do something, because you can already feel the wetness between your thighs, your pussy throbbing with need. "Mr. Lee..."
"Heeseung." He corrects quickly, his hands resting on your shoulders. "You've improved so much. But today you're... distracted."
"So are you." You whisper. He squeezes your shoulders harder and lets out a slow breath, as if he is finally surrendering to a fight he knows he cannot win.
"Stand up." You obey, turning around to face him on trembling legs.
He cups your face with one hand and gently brushes his thumb across your lower lip. Your eyes close, waiting for the kiss you've been craving, but then he whispers. "We shouldn't... this is reckless."
Your eyes snap open, your cheeks burning. "I know, but I can't stop thinking about you. Every day, in every lesson."
His eyes travel slowly down your body, taking in your breasts straining against the tight dress and your soft thighs. His cock throbs inside his pants. He is a man who has been fighting this for months, but the way you are looking at him now is too much.
He cups your face with both hands, gently stroking your cheeks. "If we do this, I need you to be sure."
"I'm sure, Heeseung. Please." you whisper.
The sound of his name leaving your lips without formality breaks him. "I'll stop the moment you want me to, sweetheart."
He pulls you into a deep, hungry kiss filled with months of repressed desire. You gasp against his mouth as he effortlessly lifts you onto the lid of the piano.
The kiss only breaks when you are both breathless. But Heeseung doesn't stop. He trails his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling on your skin to leave marks.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to taste you." He growls, gently biting the sensitive spot on your neck. "My pretty girl, sitting here every in that little dress, driving me fucking insane."
His hand slides up your thigh, pushing your dress higher until he reaches your panties, tracing the soaked fabric between your legs.
"You're soaked already." He smiles proudly and pulls your panties aside, stroking your folds and circling your clit with just enough pressure to make you gasp.
Then his mouth crashes against yours again, tongues tangling obscenely as he slides two fingers inside you. He swallows your moans, claiming your mouth. "Stay quiet for me, baby."
He drops to his knees in front of you and spreads your thighs wide. The sight of your hot professor kneeling between your legs makes your mind hazy and your pussy clench. He pulls your panties down, pockets them, and buries his face between your legs. "Oh God- Heeseung..."
His tongue gives long, hungry licks along your folds before sucking hard on your swollen clit. At the same time, he pushes two fingers back inside you, curling them against that sensitive spot. "Fuck, you're so sweet."
His fingers pump in and out of you while his tongue circles and sucks your clit. "This pretty little pussy is already soaked for me."
He eats you like a man starved, making your thighs shake around his head and your hips grind against his face. "That's it, baby, ride my tongue. Let me hear those pretty sounds."
He keeps going until you come hard with a loud moan. Only then does he pull back with a wicked smile and kiss you again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. "Good girl. You did so well for me."
Still trembling, you reach for his belt, freeing his long, hard cock. The tip glistens with precum, making your mouth waters. You wrap your hand around the warm, heavy length and slowly stroke him. "Turn around for me, sweetheart. Bend over the piano like I've imagined a hundred times."
He guides you, bending you over the piano until your breasts are pressed against the cold wood. He pushes your dress up to your waist, fully exposing your ass.
"Fuck, look at you..." He runs his hand over the curve of your ass and squeezes one cheek hard, making you whimper. "Bent over my piano like a dirty little slut for your teacher. So beautiful it hurts."
He gives your ass a sharp slap, watching it jiggle, then he grabs the base of his cock and rubs the head against your slick folds. "I'm going to fuck you so deep you'll feel me for days."
He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, letting you feel every vein. He is big, almost too big, but the stretch burns in the most delicious way. When he finally bottoms out, you feel completely full. "So tight... My good girl's pussy is taking my cock so well."
He stays still at first, letting you adjust to his size. “You okay, baby?"
You open your mouth but only a shaky, pathetic sigh comes out, so you nod frantically, but it's not enough for him.
Smack!
The loud sound echoes through the room. Your ass stings, making you cry out. "Yes! I'm okay, please move."
He starts slow, pulling back until only the tip remains inside, then thrusting hard. The piano resonates with every powerful stroke. Soon his pace becomes faster and deeper. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixed with your moans and his filthy praises.
"That's it, take it." He leans over you, pressing his chest against your back. "This tight cunt was made for me. You've been teasing me for months while I tried to be a gentleman. Now you're bent over my piano like a dirty little slut for me."
His dirty words make you clench around him. "I can feel you everywhere inside me, oh my god-”
He laughs mockingly and pinches your clit. "Yeah? Then cum on my cock, I want to feel you milking me."
You come hard for the second time, moaning his name. He keeps fucking you through your orgasm until he finally buries himself deep and fills you with his hot, thick cum.
He stays inside you, making sure not a single drop is wasted, while kissing your shoulder and gently stroking your back. “Can you give me one more, baby? I want to watch you ride me.”
“Yes, please, Heeseung. I want it." You whisper breathlessly.
He sits on the piano bench and pulls you onto his lap. You sink down onto his cock and begin rolling your hips, riding him slowly at first. “You feel so good, baby."
He lets you set the pace while he finally pulls your dress off and throws it aside. Your breasts are finally free. He takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak.
You move faster, holding onto his shoulders for balance, your clit rubbing against him every time you take him deep. "Hee- that feels so good."
He releases your nipple with a wet pop, but his hand keeps kneading and pinching the other one. "You're so wet and sloppy. I can feel my cum leaking down my balls, baby."
The pressure in your belly builds until your body starts shaking uncontrollably. Your movements lose rhythm, but he grips your hips and helps you keep going. "I'm going to cum inside you one more time. I want to fill this sweet cunt until it's overflowing."
You cum first, falling apart in his arms. He holds you tight, thrusting up into you through your orgasm until he follows right after, groaning in satisfaction as he fills you again.
"You were perfect." He whispers, kissing your forehead tenderly. "Are you okay, baby? Any soreness?
You shake your head, smiling at the softness in his voice. "I'm great."
He smiles and gently runs his fingers through your messy hair. "Good, because these lessons are going to be very different from now on."
𓂃
NOTE : english is not my first language, please let me know if there are any typos!
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
fuck
STILL WET?!
You thought you’d moved on. You had Heeseung now, sweet, safe, perfect. Sunghoon had Sooha, bubbly, convenient. But the fire between you never died. It only waited. One rooftop party, too much alcohol, and a slow R&B song was all it took. Now you’re grinding on your ex’s hard cock in the middle of the crowd, his fingers knuckle-deep in your soaked pussy while your boyfriend chats nearby. From there? A locked bathroom, messy blowjob on your knees, getting fucked raw and creampied over the sink like the desperate little slut you are for the one man you shouldn’t want. Old habits fuck hardest.
pairing: ex!sunghoon x reader !
warnings: cheating (both hoon and reader) betrayal strong language possessiveness jealousy alcohol infedilty complete mess for their exes porn with no plot
warnings (smut): cheating (reader on Heeseung, Sunghoon on Sooha) risky semi public sex heavy sexual tension consented sex even if drunk mutual masturbation blowjob fingering grinding doggy style mirror sex creampie tit play nipple play choking multiple orgasms degradation praise
playlist: Drive You Insane by Daniel Di Angelo [] Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood [] Call Out My Name by The Weeknd [] Into It by Chase Atlantic []
likes and reblogs for a cookie!
☆ WORD COUNT: 5.2k!
(Masterlist)
YOU AND PARK SUNGHOON HAD BEEN TOGETHER FOR ALMOST TWO YEARS BEFORE IT ENDED.
The breakup was mutual but painful, two young, passionate people who burned too hot and too fast. Careers, schedules, jealousy, and the weight of keeping everything secret had worn you both down. One rainy night in his dorm, after another argument about time and attention, you both agreed it was better to let go. The last kiss you shared tasted like salt from tears. Heeseung, Sunghoon’s best friend, had been there through the aftermath, listening to you vent late at night when the pain felt unbearable. Slowly, comfort turned into something deeper. Six months after the breakup, you and Heeseung started seeing each other. It felt right, safe, warm, steady. Heeseung was attentive, funny, and deeply caring. You fell for him hard.
Meanwhile, Sunghoon started dating one of your close friends, Sooha. She was sweet, bubbly, and had always gotten along with him during group hangouts. Seeing them together at first stung like hell, but you told yourself it was for the best. Everyone moved on. Or so it seemed.
The problem was the friend group. You all ran in the same circle, mutual friends from the industry, trainees, dancers, and staff who loved throwing parties, dinners, and weekend getaways. No matter how hard you tried, you and Sunghoon kept crossing paths. At first, it was awkward. Polite nods, short conversations, avoiding eye contact. But the tension never died. It only grew.
Every time you saw him, memories flooded back. The way his large hands used to grip your hips. How he’d pin you against the wall and kiss you until your knees buckled. The low groan he made when he was deep inside you. The way he’d look at you with those sharp, dark eyes right before he made you come. And you knew he felt it too. You’d catch him staring at your legs in short dresses, or the curve of your ass when you bent over. His jaw would tighten, and he’d quickly look away, especially when Heeseung was right beside you with an arm around your waist, or when Sooha was laughing and clinging to his arm.
The air between you two was always thick, charged and dangerous.
It started small. A house party six months after you and Heeseung became official. Sunghoon and Sooha had been dating for three months. The music was loud, drinks were flowing. You were in a tight dress that hugged every curve. Sunghoon couldn’t stop glancing at you. When you passed each other in the narrow hallway on the way to the bathroom, your bodies brushed. Just shoulders and hips, but it was enough. You felt him, hard, warm, familiar, and your breath hitched. He froze for half a second, eyes darkening, before muttering a low “sorry” and continuing. That night you rode Heeseung like you were possessed, but it was Sunghoon’s face you saw when you came.
Another time, at a beach trip with the whole group. Sunghoon was shirtless in the water, water dripping down his toned abs and sharp v-line. You were in a bikini. Heeseung was building sandcastles with friends, Sooha was napping under an umbrella. You and Sunghoon ended up wading in the shallows at the same time. The waves pushed you closer. His hand accidentally grazed your waist as he steadied you. Electricity shot through your body. Your nipples hardened instantly under the thin fabric. You saw the bulge in his swim trunks grow. Neither of you said a word. You both swam away, hearts pounding, bodies aching.
These encounters kept happening. Birthday parties, award after-parties, late-night karaoke sessions. Every time, you’d leave the function wet and throbbing, panties soaked, thighs clenched. You knew he was going home hard too, probably fucking Sooha while thinking about you. The guilt was there, but the desire was stronger.
One particular night, it became unbearable.
It was a small, intimate gathering at a friend’s luxurious apartment. Only twelve people. Heeseung was there, sitting beside you on the couch, his hand resting possessively on your thigh. Sunghoon and Sooha were across the room. The lights were dim, music soft. Someone suggested truth or dare. Stupid idea. When it was your turn, someone dared you to sit on Sunghoon’s lap for three minutes. The room erupted in laughter. “For old times’ sake!” they joked, not knowing how deep the cut went.
You hesitated. Heeseung chuckled and nodded, thinking it was harmless. Sooha looked a little uncomfortable but played along. Sunghoon’s eyes met yours, dark, warning, hungry.
You sat on his lap.
The moment your ass settled over his crotch, you felt him. He was already half-hard. As the timer started, his hands rested lightly on your hips to “steady” you. His cock twitched beneath you, growing thicker and harder against the thin fabric of your dress and his pants. You were wearing nothing but a tiny thong underneath. You could feel every inch of him pressing right against your clothed cunt. Heat flooded you. Your clit throbbed. You shifted slightly, “accidentally,” grinding down on him. He exhaled sharply through his nose, fingers tightening on your hips. His cock was fully hard now, thick and long, the same shape you remembered so well. You were soaking through your thong, your juices starting to wet the front of his pants.
Three minutes felt like eternity. Torture. Bliss. When the timer ended, you stood up on shaky legs. Sunghoon’s eyes were nearly black. A small wet spot was visible on his thigh where you’d been sitting. He quickly adjusted himself. You excused yourself to the bathroom, locked the door, and leaned against it, breathing hard, your pussy was dripping, you wanted to cum so badly it hurt.
That night, after the party, Heeseung fucked you in his car before you even got home. You came twice, but it wasn’t enough.
Two days later, you were alone in your apartment. Heeseung was away for a schedule. The memory of sitting on Sunghoon’s lap had been haunting you. You took a long shower, trying to calm down, but your body was on fire. After drying off, you opened your drawer and found it, the pale pink satin slip Sunghoon used to love.
It was short, silky, with thin straps and a deep neckline. The hem barely covered your ass. There was a high slit on the left side that went almost to your hip. He used to push the strap down, suck on your tits while fucking you in it. You hadn’t worn it since the breakup.
Tonight, you slipped it on. The fabric felt cool and luxurious against your heated skin. Your nipples were already stiff, poking obviously through the thin material. You stood in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom, dim lights on. The slip clung to your body, the hem riding up to show the bottom curve of your ass.
You climbed onto your bed, heart racing with guilt and excitement. This was wrong. So fucking wrong. Heeseung was your boyfriend. Sunghoon was his best friend. He was dating Sooha, your friend. But you couldn’t stop.
You lay back against the pillows, knees bent, legs slightly spread. Your hand slowly trailed up your body. You cupped one breast through the satin, squeezing it gently. A soft moan escaped your lips. You imagined Sunghoon’s large hand instead, bigger, rougher. You pinched your nipple, rolling it between your fingers the way he used to. The sensation shot straight to your core.
“Oh god…” you whispered.
Your other hand slid down, pushing the hem of the slip higher. The slit on the side made it easy. You parted your thighs wider, exposing your bare, dripping pussy. You were soaked. Your fingers brushed over your swollen clit, and your hips jerked.
In your mind, it was Sunghoon touching you.
You pictured his sharp jaw, his intense eyes looking down at you. The way he’d smirk when he felt how wet you were for him. You imagined his long fingers replacing yours, two thick digits sliding inside you while his thumb circled your clit. You pushed two fingers into your tight heat, moaning louder. The slick sounds filled the room as you pumped them slowly, curling them just right.
Your other hand kept playing with your tits, pulling the strap down so one breast spilled out. You pinched and tugged your nipple harder, imagining Sunghoon’s mouth on it, sucking, biting, licking.
“Sunghoon…” you breathed, even though you knew you shouldn’t say his name. It felt too good. You added a third finger, stretching yourself, fucking yourself deeper. Your hips rolled, grinding against your hand. The satin slip bunched around your waist now. You were completely exposed, legs spread obscenely, fingers plunging in and out of your creamy pussy.
You thought about that night on his lap. How hard he’d been. How big he felt. You imagined pulling his cock out right there in front of everyone, sinking down on it, riding him while the party continued. You imagined him bending you over in the bathroom after, slamming into you from behind, hand over your mouth to keep you quiet while he filled you up.
Your fingers moved faster. The heel of your palm rubbed your clit with every thrust. Your other hand switched to your other breast, squeezing hard, twisting the nipple. Pleasure built rapidly, hot and intense.
You were so close.
In your fantasy, Sunghoon was on top of you, thrusting deep, whispering how much he missed your tight pussy, how no one fucked him like you did. You imagined his hips snapping harder, his balls slapping against you, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside.
“Fuck—Sunghoon—yes—” you moaned, voice breaking.
Your orgasm crashed over you violently. Your back arched off the bed, thighs shaking. Your pussy clenched hard around your fingers, gushing wetly. You kept fingering yourself through it, drawing it out, riding every wave. Juices dripped down your ass onto the sheets. The slip was ruined with sweat and your arousal.
Even after you came, you kept your fingers inside, gently stroking as the aftershocks rolled through you. Your chest heaved. Guilt tried to creep in, but the pleasure was too strong, too addictive.
You knew you’d do this again. You couldn’t help it. The tension between you and Sunghoon was only getting worse. Sooner or later, something was going to break.
But for now, in the quiet of your room, wearing the slip he used to love, you let yourself drift in the fantasy of him, your ex, your boyfriend’s best friend, your friend’s boyfriend, fucking you senseless the way only he knew how.
—
A few weeks had passed since that night you spent alone in your apartment. The guilt had lingered for days afterward, especially when Heeseung came back from his schedule and kissed you so sweetly, completely unaware of whose name you’d moaned. But the ache between your legs never fully went away. Every time you saw Sunghoon in the group chat or caught a glimpse of him at a quick schedule overlap, the memory of his hardened cock pressing against you during truth or dare flooded back.
Tonight was another mutual friend’s birthday party, held at a spacious rooftop venue. The city lights glittered below like scattered diamonds, and the air was warm with late spring humidity. Fairy lights and soft neon accents bathed the space in a seductive glow. Music pulsed from hidden speakers, R&B and deep house tracks that made bodies move instinctively. About thirty people were there: dancers, idols, staff, and close industry friends. The drinks flowed freely, champagne, soju cocktails, whiskey on ice.
You arrived with Heeseung, dressed in a dangerously short, deep burgundy silk dress that clung to your curves and ended high on your thighs. The thin straps left your shoulders bare, and the low back dipped dangerously close to the curve of your ass. Heeseung had complimented you endlessly in the car, his hand sliding up your leg the whole ride. But the moment you stepped onto the rooftop, your eyes found Sunghoon across the crowd.
He looked devastating. Black button-up shirt with the top few buttons undone, revealing the sharp lines of his collarbones and the beginning of his toned chest. Tailored black pants that hugged his long legs and narrow waist. His dark hair was styled messily, falling over his sharp eyes. Sooha wasn’t there, she’d texted the group earlier saying she felt sick and was staying home. Heeseung, oblivious as ever, spotted Jay and Jake almost immediately and gave your waist a quick squeeze. “I’ll be back in a bit, baby. They want to talk about the new choreography.” He kissed your cheek and disappeared into a group of guys near the bar.
You were alone, and Sunghoon noticed. The tension started immediately.
You felt his gaze like a physical touch the second you walked toward the open bar. When you turned to order a drink, a strong soju cocktail with peach, he was already watching you from a few meters away, leaning against a high table with a glass in his hand. His eyes dragged slowly down your body: lingering on the way the silk hugged your breasts, the exposed skin of your thighs, the way your hips swayed when you walked. You met his stare boldly, heart racing, and took a long sip. The alcohol burned pleasantly down your throat.
For the next hour, it was a game of stolen glances and near-misses.
You danced with some girlfriends on the makeshift dance floor, laughing as you moved your hips to the rhythm. But every time you turned or dipped low, you felt him. Sunghoon stayed on the edge of the crowd, talking to a few guys, but his attention never left you. You caught him staring at your ass when you bent slightly to adjust your heel. His jaw clenched. When you licked a drop of drink from your lower lip, his eyes darkened.
You grew tipsy. Then drunk. The cocktails hit harder than expected, warmth spreading through your veins, loosening your limbs, making your skin feel hypersensitive. Your cheeks flushed. Your pussy already felt warm and slick just from the weight of his gaze.
Heeseung was still deep in conversation with Jay and Jake on the far side of the rooftop, laughing loudly, safe, distracted.
Sunghoon finally moved closer during a slower song. You were at the bar getting another drink when he appeared beside you, ordering a whiskey. His arm brushed yours. The contact sent electricity shooting through your body.
“Looking dangerous tonight,” he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear. His breath ghosted over your bare shoulder.
You turned your head, lips parted. “You’re one to talk.”
Your eyes locked. The air between you crackled. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the party disappeared. His gaze dropped to your mouth, then lower, watching your chest rise and fall. You pressed your thighs together, already feeling yourself getting wet.
The night blurred deliciously after that.
You danced again, this time with a mixed group. Sunghoon joined casually, keeping a safe distance at first. But the music grew slower, more sensual. Bodies moved closer. You swayed your hips, feeling the alcohol make you bold. Every time you turned, your eyes met his. He watched the way your dress rode up your thighs. You watched the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders when he moved.
Another song, you danced near him, shoulders brushed, then hips. He smelled like whiskey and that familiar cologne that used to drive you crazy, your head felt light, body hot.
Finally, the moment broke. A slow, heavy R&B track started playing. The kind that made people grind without shame. Most of the group had paired off or were lost in their own conversations. Heeseung was still occupied. Sunghoon stepped behind you without a word.
You didn’t resist. His tall frame pressed against your back as you both started swaying to the music. Your ass nestled perfectly against his crotch. Even through the layers of fabric, you could feel him, already semi-hard, thickening rapidly as you moved together.
“Fuck…” he breathed against your ear, so quietly it was almost lost in the music.
His hands settled on your hips at first, guiding you. The dance was filthy. You rolled your body against him, grinding slowly, deliberately. His cock grew fully hard, long and thick, pressing right between your ass cheeks through his pants. You bit your lip to hold back a moan.
The crowd around you was drunk and distracted. No one was paying attention to the exes dancing far too intimately. Sunghoon grew bolder.
One of his hands trailed down your side, fingers brushing the hem of your short dress. He leaned his head down, lips grazing the side of your neck. Not quite kissing, just hot breath and the faintest brush of his mouth. Your skin erupted in goosebumps.
“You’re driving me insane,” he whispered, voice rough with lust. “Been hard since I saw you in this dress.”
You pushed back against him harder, feeling his cock throb. “Then do something about it.”
His hand slipped lower. While your bodies continued swaying sensually to the slow beat, your ass grinding in slow circles against his erection, his fingers crept under the hem of your dress from behind. The rooftop was dimly lit here, and his tall frame mostly shielded you.
He found the edge of your tiny black lace panties. You were soaked. Dripping. His middle finger traced the wet fabric covering your pussy, pressing lightly against your swollen folds through the lace.
You gasped softly, knees weakening.
Sunghoon’s lips finally pressed against your neck, open-mouthed, hot and wet. He sucked gently, then harder, teeth grazing your skin as his finger pushed the lace aside. The pad of his long finger slid directly along your slick pussy lips, parting them, collecting your arousal.
“Shit, you’re drenched,” he groaned quietly against your neck, voice vibrating through you. “This pussy still gets this wet for me?”
You nodded frantically, biting back moans as you kept swaying with him, pretending it was just a dance. His cock was rock-hard, grinding slowly against your ass in time with the music.
He pushed one thick finger inside you without warning. Your walls clenched around it instantly, sucking him deeper. The wet sound was faint but filthy under the music. He added a second finger, stretching you, curling them perfectly against that spot he knew so well.
His mouth worked on your neck, kissing, licking, sucking hard enough to leave marks you’d have to hide later. His free hand gripped your hip tightly, holding you against him as he fingered you deeper, faster. His palm rubbed against your clit with every thrust of his fingers.
You were trembling. Pleasure built rapidly, hot and overwhelming. Your juices coated his hand, dripping down his wrist. The silk of your dress bunched up further. Anyone looking closely might have seen, but the risk only made it hotter. “Sunghoon…” you whimpered under your breath.
He bit your earlobe. “Missed this tight little cunt. Missed how you fall apart for me.”
His fingers pumped faster, curling relentlessly. The heel of his hand ground against your swollen clit. Your orgasm crashed into you without mercy, hard, sudden, devastating. Your pussy spasmed violently around his fingers, gushing slick arousal down his hand and onto your thighs. You moaned softly, body shaking as he held you upright, still swaying slowly to the music like nothing was happening.
He didn’t stop. He kept fingering you through it, drawing out every wave until your legs felt like jelly. When it finally subsided, he slowly withdrew his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth behind you. You heard him suck them clean with a low, satisfied groan.
The song ended. You turned in his arms, flushed, breathing hard, eyes glassy with lust and alcohol. His eyes were nearly black with desire, lips parted, chest rising fast. His cock was straining obscenely against his pants. Neither of you spoke. The tension had finally snapped.
You both knew this was only the beginning of the night.
The song faded out, but the heat between you didn’t. Your legs were still shaky from the orgasm he’d just pulled from you on the dance floor. Sunghoon’s chest was pressed flush against your back, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke in a low, rough whisper.
“We need to go somewhere private. Right now.” His voice was strained with barely contained lust. “Before I bend you over in front of everyone.”
You didn’t even hesitate. The alcohol and adrenaline made you bold. You gave him the smallest nod, and he immediately took your hand, guiding you through the crowd with purposeful strides. Heeseung was still laughing with Jay and Jake near the bar, completely unaware. Sooha was safe at home. No one noticed as the two of you slipped inside the luxurious indoor section of the venue.
The bathroom was a single, spacious unisex room, dimly lit, marble counters, a large mirror above the sink. The second the door clicked shut and locked, all restraint vanished.
Sunghoon was on you instantly. He spun you around and pulled your back flush against his chest, positioning both of you in front of the mirror. Your eyes met in the reflection, his dark and feral, yours glassy and desperate. His hands were rough with urgency as he yanked the hem of your short burgundy dress up over your hips in one swift motion, bunching the silk around your waist.
“Fuck,” he growled, staring at your reflection. Your tiny black lace panties were soaked through, the fabric clinging obscenely to your swollen pussy lips.
His right hand slid down immediately, fingers slipping under the waistband of your panties. Two long, thick fingers dragged through your slick folds, parting them, coating themselves in your wetness. He pressed them against your clit first, rubbing slow, firm circles that made your hips jerk.
A broken moan spilled from your lips. “Ah—Sunghoon…”
He relished it. His eyes darkened further in the mirror as he watched your face contort in pleasure. “That’s it. Let me hear you moan for me again.”
He pushed those two fingers deep inside you without warning, burying them to the knuckle in your dripping heat. Your walls clenched hard around the intrusion, still sensitive from the earlier orgasm on the dance floor. He curled them instantly, stroking that perfect spot he knew better than anyone.
Your head fell back against his shoulder, another loud moan escaping you. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers pumping into your soaked pussy filled the bathroom.
Your hands moved behind you with frantic need. You palmed the massive bulge straining against his tailored pants, feeling how hard and hot he was. Sunghoon hissed sharply as you squeezed him through the fabric. With trembling fingers, you tugged his zipper down, reaching inside to pull his thick cock out.
He was rock hard, veins pulsing, the head already glistening with precum. The familiar weight and girth made your mouth water. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking from base to tip in long, firm pumps exactly the way he liked it.
“Shit—yes,” he groaned, hips bucking into your fist. His fingers fucked you harder, faster, plunging in and out while his palm rubbed relentlessly against your clit. The mirror gave you both a perfect view of everything, your flushed face, your tits nearly spilling out of your dress, his hand disappearing between your thighs, your smaller hand working his cock desperately.
You pumped him faster, twisting your wrist at the head, spreading his precum down his shaft. Every time you squeezed him, his fingers would thrust deeper into you, like a filthy feedback loop. Your moans mixed with his low grunts.
“Look at yourself,” he demanded, voice hoarse. His free hand came up to grip your jaw, forcing you to watch your reflection. “Look how fucking desperate you are for me. Dripping all over my fingers while your boyfriend’s right outside.”
The words only made you wetter. You whimpered loudly, stroking him quicker, feeling his cock throb and twitch in your hand. His fingers curled and scissored inside you, stretching you open, hitting that spot over and over until your thighs started shaking.
You were both lost in it, driven by pure, pent-up lust. The sound of his fingers plunging into your creamy pussy mixed with the slick sound of your hand jerking his cock. Your juices were dripping down his wrist and onto the marble floor.
“I’m gonna—fuck, Sunghoon—I’m close again,” you gasped, eyes half-lidded in the mirror.
He leaned down, biting the side of your neck hard as his fingers sped up. “Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fingers like the dirty little slut you are for your ex.”
Your orgasm hit you like a freight train.
Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, then a loud, broken moan tore from your throat as your pussy clenched violently around his fingers, gushing slick arousal all over his hand. Your knees buckled, but he held you up, still fucking you through it with his fingers while you frantically stroked his cock.
Sunghoon groaned deeply, hips stuttering as your orgasm pushed him over the edge too. Thick ropes of cum shot from his cock, spilling over your hand and onto the sink counter as he came hard. For a few long seconds, the only sounds were heavy breathing and the faint bass of the music outside.
You both stared at each other in the mirror, flushed, messy, and still hungry.
This wasn’t going to end here. The bathroom air was thick with the scent of sex, your arousal and his cum. You were both still panting, staring at each other through the mirror. Sunghoon’s fingers were still buried inside you, lazily stroking through the aftershocks while your hand was covered in his release.
Without a word, you slowly turned around and sank to your knees on the cool marble floor in front of him. His cock was still hard, glistening with cum and your spit from earlier strokes. You looked up at him with hazy, lust-drunk eyes as you wrapped your fingers around the base.
You leaned forward and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his swollen tip, tasting the salty remnants of his orgasm. Sunghoon’s breath hitched sharply, one hand immediately threading into your hair.
“Fuck… you’re really gonna do this?” he rasped, voice wrecked.
You answered by parting your lips and taking him into your mouth. You sucked on the head first, swirling your tongue around it, cleaning every drop of cum. Then you sank deeper, relaxing your throat to take as much of his thick length as you could. The familiar stretch of your lips around him made you moan around his cock.
Sunghoon groaned loudly, hips twitching. “That’s it… just like that, baby.”
You bobbed your head, sucking him eagerly, hollowing your cheeks. Your hand worked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, stroking him in time with your movements. The wet, sloppy sounds echoed obscenely in the bathroom as you deepthroated him again and again, eyes watering, spit dripping down your chin.
He watched you through the mirror above, the sight of you on your knees in that tiny burgundy dress driving him crazy. His grip tightened in your hair as he started fucking your throat gently.
“Missed this pretty mouth so fucking much,” he growled.
You moaned around him, the vibration making his thighs tense. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, growing even harder. His breathing turned ragged.
“Shit—I’m gonna cum again—”
You didn’t pull away. You took him as deep as possible, looking up at him with teary eyes. Sunghoon cursed loudly as he came down your throat, thick spurts of hot cum shooting straight into your stomach. You swallowed every drop, milking him until he was shuddering and oversensitive.
He pulled you up roughly by your arms and spun you around, bending you over the marble sink. Your hands braced against the counter, eyes locked on your own reflection, flushed face, swollen lips, messy hair. Sunghoon yanked your dress up again and ripped your soaked panties down your thighs in one motion.
He rubbed his still-hard cock between your dripping folds, teasing your entrance. Then he pushed in, one long, powerful thrust and he buried himself to the hilt inside you.
Both of you moaned loudly at the same time. “Oh my god! Sunghoon…” you cried out, the stretch overwhelming after so long apart.
“Fuck—your pussy… still so tight,” he groaned through gritted teeth, eyes squeezed shut for a moment. The feeling of your warm, velvety walls clenching around him made his knees weak. “I missed this so fucking bad.”
He gave you only a second to adjust before he started moving, deep, hard strokes that slammed into you with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the bathroom as he fucked you against the sink. Your tits bounced heavily inside your dress with every powerful snap of his hips.
Sunghoon reached around and yanked the front of your dress down, letting your breasts spill free. His large hands immediately grabbed them, squeezing and kneading roughly just like he used to. His fingers pinched and rolled your sensitive nipples, tugging them as he pounded into you harder.
“Look in the mirror,” he demanded, voice low and filthy. “Watch how I’m fucking you.”
You obeyed, eyes glazed with pleasure as you watched his reflection. His sharp jaw was clenched, dark eyes burning into yours through the glass. One hand stayed on your tit, playing with it possessively, while the other gripped your hip hard enough to bruise.
He fucked you relentlessly, cock dragging against every sweet spot inside you. The angle had him hitting so deep you felt him in your stomach. Your moans were loud and broken, impossible to hold back.
“Sunghoon—ahh—fuck, you’re so deep—”
He leaned over you, biting your shoulder as he played with your tits and slammed into you. “This pussy is mine. Always been mine.”
The pleasure built fast and brutal. Your second orgasm ripped through you without warning, your walls fluttering and clenching around his cock like a vice. You cried out his name as you came, juices dripping down your thighs.
The feeling pushed Sunghoon over the edge right after you.
With a deep, guttural groan, he buried himself as deep as possible and came hard inside you. Thick ropes of cum flooded your pussy, filling you up completely. He kept thrusting through it, pushing his load deeper, claiming you in the most primal way.
For a long moment, you both stayed like that, his cock still buried inside you, his hands still groping your tits, both of you breathing heavily as you stared at each other in the mirror.
Reality slowly crept back in. Heeseung was somewhere outside. Sooha was waiting at home. But neither of you could bring yourselves to care yet. Sunghoon pressed a messy kiss to the back of your neck, still twitching inside your cum-filled pussy.
“We’re not done tonight,” he whispered darkly. “Not even close.”
perm taglist:@hellomynameis-jessica @svvtvenom @saeivra @chaebbys @wonswrl @rianzysworld @bxldak @liloaeu @seungsoftly @aezzi @slut4heespam @freakseung2001 @strawberrykkkl @noraa127 @keonhoescafe @isaphn @gardenwonn @saccharinezennie @yjwpout @kpopishgirlie @nishimurarikisgoodgirl @chario1397 @fairygrvngetae
(MDNI‼️) Sending freaky picture while they are touring (hyung line)
Mention of sex, dih, eating pussy , suggestive content.
Pairing idol!hyung line x freaky reader
Summery: they are on tour and you decides to tease them with freaky pictures and they can’t wait to get their hands on you
Note: I don’t proof read anything so pls understand.
Now playing Seven (ft latto) explicit version by JUNGKOOK (ayyy my man 🤤)
A/n: I really kept it very simple 💔 lemme if u want a better version or the maknae version.
©️to me
Taglist : @kristynaaah @heeseungsfavhoe @sugarcwtie
cutie jakey jakey <3
niki twt links . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ . ݁ ❤︎ 18+
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<𝟑 his pretty little fucktoy
<𝟑 desperately fucking yourself on his cock
<𝟑 he loves your cute nipples
<𝟑 fucking on the couch after practice
<𝟑 mutual masturbation
<𝟑 too horny to even undress you
.✦ ݁˖ jake version
mark me yours - l.hs
— a spin-off from love me (k)not
main masterlist
synopsis. heeseung loves omegas, but he doesn’t believe in mates—especially fated ones. that kind of destiny is reserved for people like riki and jay. but then he meets you. and the first thing you ask him to do is scent-mark you: an intimate activity shared only between mates. a spin-off from love me (k)not!
pairing. alpha!heeseung x omega!female reader
genre(s). omegaverse, fated mates, strangers-to-lovers, fluff, angst
warnings. slightly suggestive, fated mates-coded, power imbalance, unjust system and society, harassment against omegas (not by heeseung), &team cameo but they're assholes here sorry! i love them though dw, mating mark, scent-marking, heeseung is a dominant alpha, and a bigger asshole i fear, reader is a cheerleader, alpha!jay being our target again (sorry), alpha!riki, alpha!sunghoon, beta!ahn yujin, omega!rei, sunoo is bi, heeseung is also bi, this omegaverse is partly made up by me! but it’s just a tiny portion of it just to keep the plot going, denial, rejection, angst, not beta read we die like injang, please let me know if i missed anything!
word count. 21,280 words
note. please read this before proceeding 🤎 everything here is purely fictional and it has nothing to do with the members as a person outside of this fanfiction 🤎 also idk how cheerleading works so pls bear with me...
In a private booth of a nightclub, a group of long-legged, broad-shouldered alphas huddle around the table, drinks in hands. The air is layered with pheromones and adrenaline, occasionally flashing with neon lights and blurred with thin smoke.
In the middle of the couch, Heeseung sits leisurely, manspreading with ease. On either side of him, Jay and Riki lean back in a similar posture, each of them engaged in the conversation bouncing between the team.
The team has just won a friendly match against their long-sworn rival, a university from the east, after a frustrating streak of loss for two consecutive tournaments. It wasn’t really a landslide win, considering their competitive skills, but a win is a win. A satisfied smirk curls around Heeseung’s bow-shaped lips, his alpha purring with pride.
Friendly or not, the whiskey surely tastes extra sweet tonight.
“Did you see K’s face just now?” Riki pipes up from his left, still buzzing with adrenaline. Being the last man to score and secure the win for them, it’s obviously hard for Riki to contain his enthusiasm. He’s beaming wide. “I did that. I wiped that smirk off his face, gentlemen!”
The rest of the team roars in reply, infected by Riki’s contagious excitement. Heeseung and Jay wear a fond smile on their lips, clearly delighted to see the younger alpha’s happiness. Glasses clink again as they toast to their win, and to their future wins, and to the sexy, beautiful cheerleading omegas that played a part in keeping their spirits up just now—to which Jay grimaces and Riki rolls his eyes at. Heeseung snorts.
He forgets that he’s friends with a prude and a loyal, claimed alpha.
“Speaking of omegas,” Heeseung tilts his head at Riki when the chatters break into small groups of conversations among the team, leaving him to talk to two of his closest friends. “It’s a surprise to see you here, Ki. Like seeing a four-leaf clover.”
Jay joins in, his signature lopsided grin on display. “I half-expected you to run home to your girlfriend. It’s hard to see you hang out with us at the club now, pup.”
Riki crosses his arms with a dramatic huff. His bottom lip juts out in a pout. In this light, when Riki shows this side of him, free from fake nonchalance and his cool persona, Heeseung sees him ten years younger than his actual age. Riki is so cute.
“I fully expected to run home to her too, hyung. But she forced me to come here. Said something like I should celebrate my win with y’all,” Riki sighs, messing with his newly-dyed hair and tipping his head back. “So here I am. Drinking with you idiots when I could’ve cuddled with my sweet, sweet omega at home.”
Jay feigns offence while Heeseung laughs. The both of them know too well of Riki’s devotion to his girlfriend. Maybe it’s the alpha-omega bond, or just the fact that they’ve known each other practically their whole lives, but Riki is never at ease whenever she’s not around.
But tonight, the alpha seems more relaxed than usual. He’s not playing with his fingers or toying with the hem of his shirt like he always did when his girlfriend is absent. Heeseung wonders why the sudden change until he catches a glimpse of something at the back of Riki’s neck.
His brows furrow. His movement falters mid-air.
“Riki? Is that…” Heeseung squints his eyes, trying to see better while the tips of Riki’s ears slowly redden. From his right, Heeseung can hear a soft gasp from Jay.
“Holy shit. Is that your mating mark, Ki?”
It is. It is a mating mark, Heeseung realises, when a purple neon light flashes on Riki’s wounded skin. The alpha is rubbing his neck sheepishly now, heat sweeping across his cheeks. Despite his sudden shy demeanour, Heeseung can smell the pride in his sandalwood scent, and in that moment he finally notices the subtle layer of sweet vanilla—Riki’s girlfriend’s scent—in Riki’s pheromones.
“Yeah,” Riki confirms, still red like a tomato. “I mated with her last night.”
“Wow,” Jay breathes out in amazement, eyes sparkling in the dim light. “About time, man! You’re finally mated!”
Jay’s exclamation attracts attention and soon, the whole group is congratulating Riki on the milestone. The said alpha is red down to his neck now, clearly not expecting the sudden shift of focus on him but still relishing in the pride of having his mating mark, if the musky lilt to his pheromones is anything to go by.
Heeseung remains a quiet observer, watching as Riki pulls down the collar of his shirt to proudly show the mark. Two other alphas join him as they speak fondly of their omegas, relishing in their identical mating mark on their napes. Beside him, Jay listens with an adoring smile. There’s a certain longing in his gaze when he stares at the mated alphas that doesn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung.
Heeseung averts his eyes away, trying to forget that familiar look on Jay’s face. He almost scoffs at the image.
He knows that look like the back of his hand.
Jay, too, yearns for a mate. Like Riki. Unlike Heeseung.
Mate. It’s the word that is so common in omegaverse but so foreign in Heeseung’s little world.
If Jay is a walking green flag that effortlessly attracts omegas with his gentleman charms, Heeseung is a running red flag that chases after willing omegas. If Jay stays away from wild sex life, Heeseung lives by it. If Jay dates to marry, Heeseung fucks to breathe. He’s everything Jay’s not that Riki was so bewildered when the two first met him.
Don’t get him wrong—he’s not the creepy kind of chaser. Rather, he likes to call himself the sexy one. It’s not hard for him to pull; just a few flirty comments here and a couple of filthy whispers there and the next hour he’ll have an omega to bring home and under him.
He doesn’t know if he’s the only one wired this way, but where territorial instincts stream in his alpha blood, his sexual desires run even harder and faster. It’s like an itch that just won’t get away if he doesn’t scratch at it. He’s an attractive alpha with a high sex drive, he admits it, but is he really wrong to accept any omegas with his long, eager arms?
He thinks not.
Plus, they’re omegas. Heeseung tries not to objectify them, but gosh, the scent wafting from them is always so sweet and inviting. They’re curved softly, meant to hold and love the right, physical way that he’s known how to. He’s a weak man, and an even weaker alpha; Heeseung can’t resist a good fuck between two consenting adults and he always, always consents to being sucked off dry and scratched to bleed.
Fuck, just thinking about it is already making him excited.
Heeseung’s eyes wander, tuning out the conversation about mate as he scans for any attractive omega. It’s starting to bore him—the talk about mate and having a mate and being mated—so he’s entertaining himself with the exposed skin and swaying hips of dancing omegas on the dance floor.
For someone like him that gets off on having sex with omegas and being drunk on their sweet pheromones, mating culture is a big no for him. The idea of being tied to only one omega makes him laugh; it sounds ridiculous to him. He’s an alpha capable of giving and his knot is not limited to only one hole, so why should he settle?
Only hopeless-romantic alphas believe in the belief of fated mates. And unfortunately, two of his friends do. Heeseung mentally rolls his eyes.
He decides that he’s had enough when the mated alphas start talking about having pups; another commitment that makes goosebumps rise in his skin. Wordlessly, he places his shot glass on the table, having sipped only half of it throughout the night.
“Leaving already?” Jay asks, craning his neck when Heeseung stands. The latter only cocks his head to the dance floor with a knowing look. The corner of his mouth curves into a playful smirk when Jay makes a face.
“The usual.”
Jay shakes his head. “Whatever. Just don’t do it raw.”
“I’m always clean and safe, Jongseong.” Heeseung retorts, already taking his leave. “Call me when you’re leaving.”
Whatever Jay replies is muffled by the loud bass and Heeseung couldn’t care less to know what the alpha has said. Probably throwing him insults for using him as his personal chauffeur again. Heeseung only shrugs. Jay’s not his concern tonight. He has a bigger fish, or rather, a pretty wolf, to catch.
His eyes sweep across the space. From where he’s standing, his nose can pick up different scents of alphas and omegas. Even the faint scent of betas are visible, usually amplified by alcohol and adrenaline. He’s still deciding between two male omegas throwing asses back on the dance floor and a group of female omegas giggling at a table not far from him when a spiked scent stabs at his senses.
His nose instantly scrunches, frowning as he tries to detect that smell. An omega in distress. It’s faint, coming from the direction of the exit door, but he can’t see anyone crying or visibly uncomfortable in his line of sight.
Heeseung looks around, momentarily distracted from his initial mission. Nobody seems to notice the scent, however, and Heeseung blames his dominant traits for this. He sometimes forgets that he’s a dominant alpha. Unlike Jay and Riki, his senses are more sensitive and developed, which is a blessing when he’s looking for a hookup and a curse when he’s inside the locker room after a game when the air is drenched in his teammates’ pheromones. Heeseung shudders at the memories. He’s always the first to shower and leave the room because only Riki smells good when sweating.
His thoughts are brought back when the scent intensifies. Heeseung keeps sniffing and blindly follows the trail of wilting daisies and burnt honey, his shoulders braced and jaw tense. He doesn’t know why, but the scent has awakened his senses to a new degree. His alpha is on full alert now.
He passes by dancing bodies and tables to get to the exit door but he’s stopped by a hand on his arm. Heeseung looks down.
A soft, seductive voice reaches his ears. “Heeseung-ssi?”
Heeseung blinks at the smiling omega. After a second of stunned silence, he finally recognises the logo on her varsity jacket and the makeup on her face. Realisation dawns upon him.
She’s part of his college’s cheerleader squad.
The omega is running a hand up and down his arm now, arching her back to flaunt the soft swell of her chest. Behind her, her fellow cheerleaders watch closely, hiding eager smiles behind their palms. Heeseung looks down at her hand, gulping despite himself.
“Spare me a few minutes, will you, my precious, capable alpha?”
Her voice is so enticing, dripping with the kind of allure Heeseung’s so much familiar with. There is a strong wave of her sweet scent—bubblegum and cotton candy, Heeseung notes—coming from her in full force. She’s fluttering her lashes now, hoping he’ll get the message.
Heeseung does; oh does he get the message so well. He knows what she’s hinting on and on any other nights he’ll succumb to the temptation without putting any efforts to think, melting into a puddle of juices at the slightest touch of seductive omegas. It’s a no-brainer decision for him, usually, because he’s always ready to fuck and he always brings a pack of condom with him for this sole reason.
But tonight his wolf is restless. And the reason is none other than the bitter scent still clinging to his nose.
Heeseung gives a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and removes her hand from his arm. The omega frowns, brows almost uniting at the center when the alpha takes a step back.
“Next time, yeah?”
Without waiting for her reply, Heeseung slips away from the crowd, ignoring the sour turn of her pheromones. He can feel their eyes boring into his back, but that’s not his concern now. Following the haunting scent and the sudden flaring instincts to get closer to the owner of it, Heeseung lets his legs bring him closer to the exit door.
Heeseung hates to admit it, but right now, his wolf is thrashing at the bitter scent and his chest feels like caving in. He can feel the itch in his nails; his claws are threatening to sharpen. He frowns.
He’s never reacted this way to any omegas in distress. So why now? Why this particular scent?
When he reaches the door, Heeseung doesn’t waste a second to push it open and steps outside. As he does so, a weight suddenly crashes into his chest, pushing him slightly backwards from the force.
“Oof—”
Heeseung reaches up to steady the figure by the arms. At this sudden proximity, the scent is thicker, the wilting daisies are more prominent it's making his heart constrict. Heeseung lets out a deep exhale and looks down to the person practically in his arms.
A female omega. Clearly in distress, judging by the unshed tears and the tremble in her lips. A familiar varsity jacket drapes across her frame and Heeseung feels his breath stop when he recognises that face.
It’s you. One of the cheerleaders. Heeseung knows many cheerleaders, having been in bed with most of them; but even the most forgetful alpha will remember an omega like you.
A sweet face with a sweeter scent to match, but you are always detached from alphas and their advances. You’re the shy cheerleader his teammates always talk about. The untouchable one. The politely-smile-and-then-reject omega. Heeseung remembers you too well, being one of those rejected alphas himself.
He still remembers how disappointed his wolf was, whining and pouting when a pretty omega he had his eyes on rejected him. But Heeseung is a respectful alpha. He’ll take a no as a no. And you were also so kind when doing so that he moved on from it pretty fast and well.
That was one year ago.
Now you’re crying in his arms, for whatever reasons he doesn’t know and is determined to find out. He can feel your hold on his arms tighten, the spike in your scent when you recognise him, and the hitch in your breath that follows. The bitter scent is definitely coming from you.
“H-Heeseung?” Your voice is so small, like you’re not sure if you can call his name. It’s shaky and breathless. “Please help me.”
Behind you, Heeseung can see three shadows entering the alleyway. Even from the distance, his nose immediately picks up the pheromones of aroused alphas; thick and unpleasant. Your scent lingers amidst the stench, wavering in fear, so heavy he can practically taste it on his tongue. Heeseung instinctively pulls you closer.
“Are they bothering you?”
You nod frantically, the tears now spilling freely down your cheeks. When you speak, your voice is wet from tears and fear.
Nothing can ever prepare Heeseung for the words that are about to leave your mouth.
“P-Please…Please scent me.” You sob, clutching the sleeves of his T-shirt tighter. Heeseung’s breath stutters. “Please, Heeseung.”
Scent-mark. A low rumble sounds from his chest.
You’re asking him to mark you. To…claim you. It’s basically you asking him to bond with you, to shower you with his pheromones and make you smell like him. Smell like you’re his.
This is not what Heeseung’s looking forward to tonight. The fantasy of saving an omega in distress and scent-marking belongs to Jay, an alpha that was even willing to help an omega in heat out of the goodness of his heart. But not Heeseung. That’s never Heeseung. Heeseung doesn’t play the hero; he’s the one stealing the female lead from them.
Scent-marking is way…too intimate to share between two complete strangers with no interaction—that is, if you consider being rejected to having sex together as zero interaction.
Heeseung looks between you and the shadows closing in, then licks his lips. “I can’t,” he tries, and the broken look on your face damn near makes his heart take the same fate. Heeseung schools his expression, forcing himself to push you slightly away from him.
“I—This is not right. You don’t want this.”
He can’t take advantage of you. This is just your scared omega speaking. Outside of this situation, he’s damn sure you’d refuse any kind of bonds with him. Heeseung might be a sex addict, but he’s not an asshole.
But you pull him with you, shaking your head as you keep taking a glance at the approaching alphas. “I do! Please,” you choke, failing to keep your voice steady as you plead at the alpha in front of you. Heeseung forces restraint to his instincts. “Please just scent-mark me, Heeseung. I-I can’t—They will—” You heave a deep breath, your scent taking a sourer lilt at his refusal.
“They won’t back down unless it’s another alpha.”
Something sharp stabs at his chest, rendering him speechless and frozen for a moment. Heeseung stares at your trembling figure, at your shrinking body as if to make yourself disappear, and it suddenly hits him how disgusting the whole situation is.
They won’t back down unless it’s another alpha.
Alphas only take a no when it comes from another alpha.
Heeseung feels nauseous. His throat closes in and there’s a quiet ringing in his ears. In that heavy, stilled silence, everything is muffled to his senses. Only the echoes of your words ripple in his mind.
Unless it’s another alpha.
It’s a hard pill to swallow; one that Heeseung finds it bitter to believe—because it’s so, so easy to walk away from omegas than force yourself on them. It’s so, so easy to shoot your pride down than dwell on it and go feral over a rejection. It’s so, so easy to respect an omega, even for a fuckboy like him, so why is it hard for other alphas to do so?
And the result of this harsh world, of this fucked up power imbalance is sobbing in his arms, shaking and forcing herself to be okay with an unwanted bond just to save herself. Heeseung’s heart breaks for you, for the fate that follows a beautiful being like you just because of secondary genders and because the world says so.
“Please, I-I don’t—”
“Shh, it’s okay,” Heeseung whispers, rubbing a soothing circle on your arms. Your crying subsides a fraction. “I’ll scent you if that makes you feel better. Is that…okay?”
You blink at him tearily, streaks of salty tears tainting your unblemished cheeks. Even with a swollen face, you still look as pretty as he remembers.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he nods, taking a hold of your wrist when he senses those alphas getting near. “Or we can just get inside and call the cops on them if you change your mind. You can find—”
“No,” you grip him tighter, your previously-calmed scent spiking again. “Cops are useless. T-They won’t—please, Heeseung. You know how they are.”
You know how unfair the system is.
Heeseung swallows hard before he nods, the burnt honey in your pheromones starting to get really thick and sticky. He rubs the inside of your wrists, slow and deliberate, before bringing the scent gland to his nose. It’s the most appropriate point to scent, less intimate than scenting at your neck, which he guesses the last thing you want from him right now.
The tip of his nose caresses the delicate skin tentatively, testing and tasting before he takes a deep inhale. Immediately, the scent of daisies and honey fill up his senses and Heeseung’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling. There is a rush of energy bursting through his veins, his senses tingling and his wolf purring at the sweet combination of your pheromones. Heeseung feels his wolf hum, almost singing and sighing, like his muscles are unknotting in a hot spring.
It’s strange. It’s new. But Heeseung pushes the thoughts aside.
He runs his nose over your wrist over and over again, blanketing you in his pheromones and starting to feel you relax in his arms.
The tension in your shoulders visibly disappears as you let yourself melt into Heeseung. You sigh. Heeseung’s pheromones are just like him; warm spice of cinnamon carried by cool air of sea breeze. It symbolises his fierce persona on the court and his calm demeanour when he’s out of his jersey perfectly. You lean into him further, your squirming wolf unknowingly calms down when being washed by his pheromones.
If Heeseung notices the change in your demeanour, he doesn’t say anything about it, shoving the thought to the back of his mind. His singular focus is entirely on your pulse, nosing at your wrist and pumping out his calming pheromones. When he opens his eyes, they mirror the look in yours: dazed and slightly glassy. The air is now loaded with daisies and cinnamon, intertwining with each other in a perfect, balanced mix of scent.
Heeseung tries to ignore the loud pounding of his heart, but it’s all he can hear. He tries to ignore the stars in your eyes, but it’s all he can see. He tries to ignore how perfectly balanced the mix of your scent is with his. His grip on your wrist tightens, breath caught in his throat. His wolf refuses to let you go, wanting to keep you here, tucked safely in his embrace for as long as he can.
And that thought is so foreign and scary. He really hopes that’s just his wolf and not him.
“Hey, little bunny.” A sick, twisted voice interrupts.
Oh, right.
Those fucking, disgusting alphas.
Heeseung is always slouching, making him appear shorter than he actually is. But in that moment, he’s standing so tall, dominating the space around him like the air is making room for him itself.
He instinctively pulls you behind him, shielding you from the hungry eyes of the approaching alphas. His shoulders are braced like they’re ready for an impact and Heeseung has to force a snarl down his throat when his eyes land on the wolves.
When the shadows step under the light, it takes less than a second for Heeseung to see the jerseys clinging to their bodies before he realises who he’s looking at.
They’re the players from the opposing team that his team just beat tonight.
K, EJ, and Nicholas.
Heeseung grinds his jaw so hard he might pop a vessel.
“If it’s not the mighty Lee Heeseung,” K taunts, wearing a smug smirk like a badge at the sight in front of him. He cocks his head, trying to see you over Heeseung’s shoulders. You cower. “Mind sharing your pretty little cheerleader? She’s exactly my type, shy but slutty.”
Shame spreads across your skin and you screw your eyes shut. Shy and slutty, you bite your lips. You’re nothing but a kinky fantasy for alphas like them.
As if sensing your turmoil, Heeseung stands taller, his eyes narrowing thin.
“Get lost.” Heeseung tries to hold back, but the rage he feels seeps through anyway. “And cover your gland, for fuck’s sake. You stink.”
K’s eyebrows shoot up, his grin turning cheshire. “Come on, man. Are you gatekeeping your cheerleaders?” K tries to take a peek at you, but Heeseung moves and covers you with his whole body. His frown deepens. “You had fucked her already. Don’t be greedy, captain.”
His alpha minions laugh, and Heeseung is now seeing red. Something hot spreads in his chest, burning in his vein like wildfire at the insult. Was it a hit to his ego and his shameless sexual routine? Definitely, but Heeseung never takes it to heart. Rather, it’s the way you gasp and sob into his back, shaken by the disgusting assumption of your dignity and your virginity. The storm of the ocean spikes in the air, taking his pheromones to a dangerous peak, gathering a tide to a new height.
Heeseung doesn’t think he’s ever released pheromones this bad. But something about seeing the same pattern of omegas falling victim to empty-headed alphas makes his blood boil.
Behind him, you whimper, your omega reacting to the agitated alpha in front of you. But Heeseung is now relentless. He holds out an arm around your waist, protecting you from their sight in a tight, almost-possessive grip.
“Watch your fucking mouth. Don’t you get it?” Heeseung seethes, pupils thinning as the laughter dies down. “She doesn’t want you. In what fucking language must she say no for your stupid brain to understand? She’s—”
Mine. She’s mine, his wolf howls. My omega.
Heeseung grits his teeth.
No, she’s not. Get a fucking grip, Lee Heeseung. You don’t have a mate.
“...not a toy.”
The sea-salt bite of his pheromones thickens in the alley. K scoffs, stepping forward in offense but is stopped by Nicholas. The latter has his arm shot out against K’s chest, preventing him from approaching the couple.
“No, K,” Nicholas murmurs, nose sniffing at the heavy pheromones in the air. Underneath the eye-watering spice of cinnamon and the raging storm of Heeseung’ sea breeze scent, there is a tangled sweetness of daisies and honey clinging to it. He visibly gulps. “They’re together. And Heeseung…”
Nicholas throws him a side eye, giving him a once-over briefly. He takes in the sharp glare directed his way, the downturned curl of his mouth, the tense shoulders ready to pounce. Nicholas shudders imperceptibly and shakes his head.
“…He’s a dominant alpha.”
His statement, though meant to deescalate the situation, only rages Heeseung on further. The alpha takes a menacing step forward, eyes narrowing thin at the trio. They falter back.
“Get this in your empty brains you freaks,” Heeseung grits, fuming beyond reason. Nicholas swears he sees something red flickering in his irises.
“When someone says no, you back the fuck off. Dominant alpha or not. Omega or not.” He spits out the word, the venom in his voice nearly poisons the air. “Do you fucking get it?”
His raging pheromones are turning physical, pressing on each pair of lungs like lead on a mattress. Nicholas fights the urge to cover his nose and pulls his two friends backwards with him.
“We get it. Sorry, captain.”
“Not me,” Heeseung hisses. A low growl rumbles in warning. “Her.”
Nicholas licks his lips and nods. He bows down quickly, forcing the other alphas to bend despite it hurting his pride. K reluctantly follows, though his eyes return the glare Heeseung gives him in a similar intensity.
“We’re sorry, omega. Shit, I don’t know your name, but—we’re sorry.”
In the next moment, the three alphas are already retreating. Nicholas aggressively whispers something among them while K visibly restrains himself from running back to Heeseung. He clearly doesn’t mind taking up a challenge with the dominant alpha and Heeseung finds himself not minding to dirty his hands too.
A beat of heavy silence falls upon you. You stay rooted in place, pulse racing in your ears. Heeseung is still facing away from you, ragged breathing slowing down. The air of dense pheromones is thinning out, leaving behind trails of spicy cinnamon and soft daisies.
You let out a breath and your knees buckle.
Heeseung is by your side in a flash, the same, now-familiar arms caging you against his tall frame. You put your hands on his chest, trying to steady the wobble in your legs.
“Hey, hey. You’re okay now. They’re gone.”
They really are. You cry. They’re actually gone.
An ugly sob racks through your chest and soon, the wilting daisies are back, staining the air with crumpled petals and sad flowers. Heeseung tightens his hold. He doesn’t like seeing people cry, but his alpha apparently despises it the most when he sees you in this state.
His calming pheromones pour out in waves, hands carding through your hair gently. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re safe now.”
You’re safe with me.
Your crying slows down. For a few seconds, you let yourself savour the warmth of Heeseung’s embrace. Closer, his pheromones, layered with a faint trail of his body wash, are stronger, filling up the almost-nonexistent space between the two of you. Strangely, the spice and the salt work wonders on calming you down.
Your wolf—previously anxious and distressed—is now quiet.
Heeseung adjusts his hold on you, and in that moment do you only realise in horror how long you’ve been shamelessly hugging him. Like a reflex, you pull away from his embrace, cheeks now flaming red when his shirt is now stained with two big spots of your tears.
“I’m sorry!” Your palms instinctively rub at the stains, as if they can dry out the tears out of the fabric. “I’ll buy you a new shirt.”
Heeseung looks down, silently watching the small of your palms against his broad chest. There’s a strange flutter that follows, quiet and unfamiliar. He hopes that you can’t feel it through the fabric.
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” Heeseung murmurs, eyes finding their ways back to your face. Red nose, swollen eyes, blotched cheeks. You really went through it, still sniffling as you still try to fix the stains on his shirt. A small part of him twists uncomfortably.
Heeseung catches your wrists, his thumbs moving almost instinctively against the soft skin.Your breath catches as you lift your gaze to look at him.
“Are you okay?” Heeseung asks, voice soft and gentle. You immediately nod, admittedly feeling better after being bathed in his calming pheromones.
“I’m okay. Just a bit thirsty.”
He searches your face, as if trying to detect any kind of discomfort or distress. But in the end, he ends up staring into your eyes, counting the lashes that guard your beautiful eyes.
It should end there. He really should just escort you back into the safety of your friend group and leave you be. Perhaps, he can go find the previous omega, seduce his way back and bring her home. The normal. The usual.
But something inside stirs in protest to that idea, and so instead he finds himself saying: “Let’s get you something to drink.”
The convenience store is bright under the dark sky, located just two blocks away from the nightclub. It’s already past one in the morning, but to the people of the night, it’s only the beginning of fun. From a distance, the queue line is only getting longer.
Beside you, Heeseung is walking on the edge of the pavement, looking out for cars despite the slow traffic. He’s been quiet since the alleyway, seemingly lost in thought. Occasionally, his hand will brush yours, a quiet graze that sends electricity in your system. You try not to react.
The convenience store is empty, save for a group of partygoers sobering up around the round table outside, leaving only a long bench beside the door empty. You stop when Heeseung does, his hand already tapping on the sensory handle.
“Wait here. I’ll buy you something to drink.”
You nod, obediently sitting down. Heeseung takes one last look at you before he enters the store, the harsh lights greeting his tired eyes. He grabs the coldest mineral water and stops in front of the necessities shelves.
Without thinking, his hand moves like it has a mind of its own, grabbing whatever his eyes land on—a heat pack, chocolate, a pack of wet tissues. It’s only when the cashier scans the items that he pauses, staring at the items with wide eyes.
Since when does he…do this?
“Anything to add, sir?”
Heeseung gulps, looks past the cashier’s head, and lands on the rows of pills behind him.
She cried too much, she might have a headache.
And so, as if on instinct, Heeseung adds paracetamol to his receipt.
Outside, the air is cooler, biting at exposed skin like a bug. Heeseung wordlessly sits beside you, placing the plastic bag on his lap. You curiously peek into the bag.
“That’s a lot. Are you hungry?”
Heeseung pauses, realisation dawns upon him. His instincts flare again. “No. Are you? Do you want ramyeon? Or packed rice? I can—”
“No! It’s fine, Heeseung,” you laugh softly, the sound like a melodious chime of a bell to his ears. “I had dinner.”
Heeseung visibly relaxes and nods. He hands you the bottle first, twisting the cap open before passing it over without a word. He watches you drink, takes the bottle from you, and gives you the heat pack next.
You blink at him. “It’s cold,” Heeseung shrugs, pulling your hand towards him and placing the heat pack on your palm. He closes your fingers over it. “This will warm you up a bit.”
For a second, you just stare at him. The warmth in your hand spreads from your fingers up to your chest, where your heart is thumping wildly at his gentle act.
You bring the heat pack to your neck, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you stare at him, cheeks blooming red. They put him in a trance, your eyes, as Heeseung finds himself unable to look away. His gaze then drops to your lips when they move, already clinging to every syllable without even knowing it.
“Thank you, Heeseung.”
The flutter comes back, now more frantic and aggressive than before, like a caged bird trying to escape. This time, Heeseung forces himself to look away, the plastic bag wrinkles under his tightening grip.
“Don’t mention it.”
“I mean it, though.” You counter back, gazing at the passing cars as you feel a gust of chilling wind breezing through. You scoot closer to the heat beside you. “It was really scary. Thank you for helping me out.”
There’s a bitter tone, faint and subtle, to your scent, as if you’re recalling the ugly incident that just happened almost half an hour ago. Heeseung clenches his jaw.
Before he can stop it, his pheromones spill out like soft waves, calming and comforting, cocooning you again like a safety blanket. His wolf hums in quiet satisfaction, watching the way your shoulders loosen, the tension melting off you bit by bit.
Heeseung doesn’t know when or how it happened, but there’s no gap between you now. But he doesn’t hate it like he thought he would. Here, you’re so close to him, your shoulder practically glued to his, seeking warmth from his body heat.
It’s a foreign feeling. A comfortable, foreign feeling.
You stay in that position, slowly getting drunk on his pheromones. Your eyes droop, fighting sleep, but the exhaustion from running away from scary alphas has finally caught up to you. Before you know it, your head dips against his shoulder, breath evening out as your fingers lose their grip on the heat pack.
Heeseung swallows. He doesn’t dare move. From the proximity, he can smell your fruity hair wash, blending smoothly with your scent.
It’s so unfair. Every inch of you smells really good, whether it’s your natural scent or the products that you use. It’s like every inch of your skin decides that you only deserve to smell the best, and Heeseung himself can’t help but agree too. It’s so unfair.
Heeseung finds his hands hover awkwardly in the air, hesitating for a second before settling carefully on your head. His fingers thread through your hair, slower this time.
“Don’t feel scared anymore,” he mumbles, gently caressing the dark strands of your hair.
It’s me who should feel scared.
His fingers freeze in your hair.
Scared. He is scared.
This is not him. If Riki or Jay were to walk in to see him in this state, they’d drag him to the nearest police station and demand they find the real Heeseung. The normal Heeseung. The usual Heeseung.
The Heeseung that doesn’t stay, or spend his time watching people breathe in their sleep. The Heeseung who’s out the door before the sheets even cool down. The Heeseung that dislikes small touches like these; like caressing the hair of the girl he just saved, because the only physical touch he brands himself with is sex.
Not this. Not whatever this is.
He wants to move, but his body doesn’t listen—he stays despite himself. His wolf, like it’s found something it’s been looking for all along, settles deeper instead, quiet and satisfied. You nuzzle closer into his body and Heeseung feels his chest tighten.
Something uneasy creeps up his spine.
This should feel suffocating. It should itch under his skin, make him want to pull away, shake you off, leave.
But it doesn’t. It feels easy. Too easy, in fact.
And it scares the shit out of him.
When your senses return to you, the first thing that greets you is someone’s scent.
Warm, spicy cinnamon and calm, salty sea air.
The memory follows not long after; of angry frowns and disgusting smirks that make your skin crawl. Amidst it all, a familiar face flashes in your mind and you feel your heart stutter.
Heeseung.
The pulse in your wrist thuds violently, as if not letting you forget the owner of the pheromones now wrapped around you like a soft blanket. You faintly remember, in your subconscious, being carried to a car and your roommate, Yujin, hugging you in panic. Unconsciously, you pull your blanket closer to your chest.
Did Heeseung send you home? Did he really…scent-mark you to help you?
You bite your lips between your teeth. The clarity is palpable now that the haziness of pheromones and distress are no longer around. There’s no way an alpha—a dominant one, at that—is willing to scent-mark an omega he has no connections to. The implications are more than the action itself. Heeseung surely knows about that, right?
It feels like a dream. It has to be a dream.
What a capable alpha, your wolf preens. Shut up, you hiss.
Then, as if the universe was insistent to prove you wrong, your eyes land on a plastic bag placed neatly on top of your vanity, a damning evidence of last night’s incident.
No way.
Your brain swirls with possibilities and your own made-up theories that it has started to throb faintly. Before you could lose your sanity, thread by unraveling thread, you rush to the bathroom to, hopefully, get rid of his scent, even when your omega begs you not to.
Unfortunately for the human-you, the cinnamon trails after you even post-showers. It clings to your clothes when you change and it doesn’t let you go even as you sit for breakfast prepared by your doting roommate. It’s strange, really. No one’s scent ever clung to you so stubbornly like this, like a chewing gum latching on shoe soles. You always cuddle with Yujin and even her green tea pheromones never stay with you after washing up.
“It’s a bit odd, yes,” Yujin munches through a mouthful of her own signature pancake. “But it’s not totally out-of-this-world. His scent will fade by this evening, I promise.”
You chew painfully slowly, eyes going wide at another possibility. “You don’t think that I conjured some kind of bond with him, right?”
It’s common knowledge that a thin, fragile bond can be easily formed when an alpha and an omega scent each other, mated or not. After all, context and intention are greatly considered, whether it’s meant for familiarity, protection, or possessiveness—each one will determine how long it’ll last.
You pull at the sleeves of your cardigan, a telltale sign of your anxiousness. The same wilting daisies accent of your scent from the night before comes back, signalling your impending distress. Yujin drops her fork and reaches a hand to yours.
“Hey, hey. Calm down for a sec, Y/N.”
“It’s just,” you swallow harshly, your traitorous mind replaying the scene from last night. Your heart thumps at the base of your throat. “I don’t know—fuck. I forced him to do this. And—and despite the circumstances, he still helped me and now…now I think…”
Your eyes turn glassy, reminded of the wolf residing deep inside you.
“I think my omega might like him.”
Yujin is silent for a moment, assessing the right words to say. It’s obvious to everyone on campus of the nature of Lee Heeseung. He’s not exactly the alpha you’d seek for companionship or commitment; he seems to be allergic to those things.
And to get your wolf to like him…well, let’s say that you’re already set for thousand-words of angst and a life of yearning. Yujin isn’t exactly fond of the idea of dishing out what you already knew. You already seem restless enough with your own thoughts.
“Okay. That’s valid.” Yujin starts slowly, treading through every syllable like a mother to her kindergartener son. “He’s super attractive. It’s understandable. But you can, you know—unlike him.”
You perk up at that, though the doubt clouding your face is more prominent now. “How?”
“Find a better alpha,” Yujin shrugs, as if explaining the world’s simplest equation. “For the record, I do think Heeseung’s a good guy, just not in the romantic department. I don’t know why your wolf is picking a fuckboy out of all alphas, but taste is subjective.”
“It’s because he stepped up and protected me!” You deflect and pause, realising how defensive of him you have become. Yujin raises a brow and you sigh, defeated, slumping in your seat.
“Fuck. Now my omega hates you for badmouthing him.”
“Sucks to be you.”
“Just kill me.”
Yujin shoots you a small smile, pushing your now-cold plate closer to you. You reluctantly take a bite. “Why not someone else, though? You could ask literally any other alpha, like—” Yujin pauses and it takes her less than a second to pick a name. “Jay. Like Jay. He’s like, the safest option, the greenest flag. But why Heeseung? And don’t tell me it’s because he was the only one there—you could’ve just barged in and found someone else. It’s a freaking nightclub.”
You freeze, unmoving for a slow second. There is, of course, an answer to that. One that you admittedly avoid to admit, because admitting it will admit that there is something underneath that only you know, and you admit that it’s scary to admit that. Fuck this admission! Yujin wouldn’t make fun of you, right?
“I…” You trail off, second-guessing your decision. Should you really tell your roommate? Seeing the eager look on her face, with her sweet, cute dimples showing up, you decide that people with dimples should be banned from this world. Promptly, you’re reminded of your junior—an alpha with Jungwon or something as his name. The both of them possessed dimples that could make any alpha (or omega) drop down to their knees.
Alas, you force yourself to tell the truth.
“I smelled him for afar.” You watch carefully for Yujin’s reaction. “Like, from outside. While I was running from those scary alphas.”
Yujin contemplates. “Did you feel some kind of a pull towards him?”
You don’t even contemplate. “Yes.”
“Holy shit,” Yujin laughs, her grin turning giddy. “This shit is actually real?!”
“What is?!” You frown, not liking being kept in the dark. A playful punch lands on Yujin’s shoulder, who’s now throwing her head back in laughter. Unconsciously, a pout is formed on your lips.
“What is it? Tell me!”
“It’s just, there’s this joke going around,” Yujin hiccups between every inhale, “that an omega will eventually crave for his knot. I can’t believe it’s happening to you!”
The lines in your forehead deepen. You regard your roommate with a look of contempt, thinking of the best spot to hide a body.
“That’s not true. I don’t crave his knot, or whatever it is.” You sigh, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose. “You know what? I’m just gonna pretend last night didn’t happen.”
Resigned and defeated, you rise and bring your plate to the sink. Your class doesn’t start until the next three hours, and then the evening is reserved for your new routine practice for the upcoming tournament. The ninety-two unread messages from the group chat are still left unopened; you haven’t had time to review the routine video yet.
You put on your apron and reach for the cabinet. When in distress or deep thoughts, other than nesting in your bedroom, you often opt to stress-bake instead. The scent of baked goods always puts you at ease, and it blends sweetly with your daisies and honey pheromones. Everyone who knows you knows to empty their stomach and be ready for a mass sweet-feeding whenever you’re in your stressed baker mode.
Behind you, Yujin’s laughter dies in her throat. Then, a question that stops you in your tracks comes.
“Hey, you don’t think it’s because you and Heeseung are fated mates, right?”
Fated mates. The words settle like a heavy blanket, pressing you down with its weight and keeping you warm altogether.
It’s sacred. It’s ancient. It’s something that you never speak of lightly, afraid that a slip of a tongue would taint the purity of such a bond. Against all odds and critiques on the concept of fated mates, you’re part of the minority who believed in it, no matter how foolish or ridiculous it may sound.
You believe in fated mates. You believe in the name written in the stars, in the love that has been shaped and created just to cherish you. You believe in spending the rest of your life looking for a face that your heart would recognise in a heartbeat, feeling that inevitable pull like you’re each other’s missing half.
But after last night, do you think it’s because you and Heeseung are fated mates?
Heeseung, who’s always made it clear to everyone about his relationship with commitments?
Heeseung, who never shies away when the boys tease him about the girls he sleeps with?
You’re never one to judge someone’s sex life, but you might be a little too concerned about how they view a long-term, committed relationship. Because that’s what you’ve been looking for.
An alpha who’s not afraid to love you loudly. An alpha whose instincts are to love and protect you.
Sometimes, you really envy mated couples. You envy how loyal Riki is of his girlfriend, craving the same kind of devotion to be directed to you. You envy how proud Taesan is to show off his mating mark, like it’s a badge of honour and love that promises forever.
Eventually, your mind drifts to Heeseung. The captain of the basketball team. Someone who deceives people with how approachable he seems, but is actually the most detached.
Heeseung is a perfect and capable alpha. You’ve seen it.
He leads his team with the kind of leadership that becomes a glue, keeping the team together no matter what challenges they’re going through. You know that he’s from the music department, and there are a few songs with his name being credited as the producer, composer, lyricist—you name it. Heeseung is a dominant alpha and uses his authority well, and he knows how to fend for himself.
You admire him, you really do.
But will he devote himself to you? Will he look only for you in a crowd of beautiful omegas, and beautiful omegas who have spent the night with him? Does he share the same sentiment as you when it comes to fated mates?
The churn in your stomach provides an answer clearer than any of your exams had ever done.
You let Yujin’s question fade in the background, letting yourself lose in your element—baking and baking and baking until it feels like you could feed a whole team of athletes. Which is what Yujin has suggested before she leaves for her lab session, after saving a big jar of cookies for herself.
Fated mates.
What a scary thought.
For the first time in his life, Heeseung is actively avoiding omegas.
It’s not any omegas, though. It’s only you. But since it’s you, it’s actually a pretty big deal to him.
Heeseung doesn’t play favourites. He doesn’t believe in fated mates, remember? But last night left a lasting impact in the form of your scent still clinging to him this morning, even after showering. Not to mention how excited his wolf has been when realising that it’s you.
It’s you, for fuck’s sake! The one who rejected him one year ago, and, admittedly, one of the prettiest omegas on campus. You might as well be every alpha’s ideal type. Well, maybe not Riki, that man is proudly claimed and fiercely loyal to his mate. But it’s definitely the case for him and Jay.
Knowing his best friend, Heeseung’s sure you’re just Jay’s type. And his. No. He didn’t say that. He doesn’t have a type, remember?
As if to make it worse, you also have a scent that might just be his favourite one yet. The same scent that is currently invading his senses, dampening other pheromones in the court despite being on opposite ends from you. The same scent that his wolf decides to pick up and single out the moment he steps foot in the campus, recognising you before his eyes can even see you first. The same scent that still lingers in his lungs, mingling with his cinnamon and sea breeze notes like dancing partners.
Yeah, Heeseung is starting to think that he’s slowly going insane.
“Dude, stop staring. You’re scaring them.”
Heeseung blinks, Jay’s voice successfully snapping him out of whatever omega-spell that you have casted on him. Yeap, he nods. It’s definitely that. You’re actually a witch. There’s no other explanation to this other than that.
A blob of freshly-dyed blonde hair pops up beside Jay. “Hyung showed up smelling like daisies and honey and suddenly he’s staring at the cheerleaders like they owe him money.” Riki teases, then grins when he realises something. “Wait, that kinda rhymes—”
“I’m not staring!” Heeseung almost shouts, belatedly realising that he, indeed, has been staring at the group of cheerleaders stretching across the court. Or, to be more precise, he’s been staring at you. He glares at Riki.
“Okay. So why do you smell like one of them then? What’s her name again, Jay hyung?”
Heeseung grumbles. “It’s no one—”
“Y/N.”
“Yes, that one. The shy one.”
Heeseung groans. He kicks Riki’s shins and makes a show of turning his back facing the cheerleaders. But for some reasons he refuses to admit, as if he has eyes on the back of his head, he still can point where you’re standing just from his senses alone.
These stupid, useless alpha senses.
At least Jay takes pity on him. “Your Heeseung hyung saved her from perverts last night. He scented her to calm her down because she was reacting pretty badly.”
Heeseung mentally thanks Jay and continues warming up. He opts to just watch his teammates dribble and stretch just like him. The faint hum of scent neutraliser—a new, advanced one, thanks to that incident with Riki’s girlfriend—rumbles slowly. Somewhere behind him, he can hear you laugh and taste the sweet spike in your scent on his tongue. Heeseung grits his teeth.
What is wrong with his wolf? Please get your tail together.
Riki, on the other hand, is intrigued. “Really? Did it happen after I left? Who were those alphas?”
“Some idiots from that team we beat last night.”
Riki frowns, clearly displeased with the news he just heard. “Well, I’ll keep my eyes on them. How did Heeseung hyung find her?”
Jay shrugs and shoots him a look. Heeseung really hopes he can slap that annoying smirk off his face one day. “Dunno. Ask him. His alpha probably recognised her from miles away.”
Heeseung doesn’t like what that sentence implies. “Shut up. It’s just instinct. Normal alpha-omega reaction.”
“Keep lying to yourself. I can practically see your tail wagging when you smelled your pheromones on her just now.”
“I didn’t—” Heeseung closes his eyes, forcing himself to calm down despite the sudden flare of defensiveness exploding in his chest. He doesn’t know why he’s so reactive and not in his usual calm composure, but he’s pretty sure it has something to do with you. Jay and Riki snicker.
“The only people that believe in fated mates are you two idiots. Do you know that?”
“Yeah, I know,” Riki snorts and looks at him, amused. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean I have a fated mate. That shit is rare. It’s like finding my size in Calvin Klein.”
Jay frowns. “I don’t see the correlation.”
“There is. My dick is just too big, hyung. There’s no size for me—”
“I don’t need to know that!” Jay slaps at Riki’s shoulders while the younger alpha only lets out a full-body laugh. “Save that information for your girlfriend, Riki. I didn’t raise you like this.”
“She already knows that.”
“Nishimura Riki!”
Heeseung is back to zoning out, his energy is suddenly drained out of his soul. That’s usually the case when you have to deal with a Nishimura Riki and a Park Jongseong on a daily basis. His mind, choosing to move at the pace of a snail today, is replaying Riki’s words back like a broken loop.
The realisation hits him five seconds late. “Wait. Did you mean that you and your girlfriend are not…fated mates? I thought you were!”
Riki is trapping Jay in a headlock when he answers. “Nope. We only imprinted on each other from early on because we’re childhood friends.”
“So like…what’s the difference?” Heeseung pauses and hesitates for a moment. He glances at you and then thinks, fuck it. If curiosity didn’t kill the cat then it’ll definitely kill him. “Can you smell your girlfriend in a sea of people?”
Riki scrunches his nose, his hands busy play-fighting with Jay. Heeseung ignores them like it’s a daily occurrence to see them act this way. Which is probably not far from the truth. “Not really? If they’re too many people, like right now, with your stench and too many omega scents—it’s difficult to find her.” Jay tackles his side and Riki yelps. “B-But it’s getting better after the mating bite, though—Jay hyung! I just got my tattoo there!”
“So…you can’t like…” Heeseung licks his lips, his throat suddenly dry. He has a feeling that he’s not going to like the answer Riki’s going to give him once he finishes his sentence. Jay is now on the floor while Riki is pulling him by the legs and dragging him around like a used rug.
“You can’t single her out from her scent alone?”
There. He said it. His two idiotic friends will catch on it and grill him for the problem he partially caused. The other part is, no doubt, his wolf’s fault for deciding to like one single scent. You’re not at fault at all. Never. Wait, who said that?
Riki is breathless from the laughter and play-fight, but he still manages to listen and answer, thanks to his alpha senses. If he finds Heeseung’s questions strange, he only shares his suspicion through a knowing look with Jay.
“Sometimes. Like I said, it’s only when the crowd isn’t too big and when she’s in the same room as me.” Riki finally spares Heeseung a glance, tilting his head in a feigned curiosity. “Why are you asking, hyung? Did you smell Y/N from miles away or something?”
How the fuck did that idiot know?
Heeseung looks away from the teasing grin thrown his way. He really doesn’t like this. “No,” he grumbles. “I’m just afraid if I might be Jay’s fated mate because his pheromones are fucking everywhere.”
“Hey! What the fuck did I do to you?!”
Riki bursts out laughing and high-fives Heeseung with a cheeky smile. On the floor, Jay is already huffing and sulking, mumbling something about ‘always catching strays’ and ‘citrusy pheromones aren’t smelly’. Heeseung sighs quietly when the topic takes a turn into a debate about who has the best smelling pheromones, which is an easy win for Riki, if Heeseung’s going to be honest.
Don’t tell Jay though. Heeseung doesn’t want to lose his passenger princess privilege so soon.
Much to his relief, it’s already time for practice. Heeseung tries to ignore the prickle in his neck coming from your direction as you and your fellow cheerleaders leave the gym to go to your own practice room. He fights the urge to look back, to stride forward and ask you to stay—which is insane, by the way, what the fuck is wrong with him?
Before he slips into his captain mode, however, Jay approaches him with a more serious look on his face. “Calm your flat tits, Hee. It’s normal for her scent to linger; you kinda scented her aggressively to protect her last night.”
Heeseung weakly nods. Jay pats his shoulder. “A deep bond can’t be conjured just from scenting alone, unless you’re fated mates.”
This time, Heeseung doesn’t move, his tension visible in the rigid lines of his posture, the frantic movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.
“Yeah,” he croaks, his pulse louder than his own voice. “Hope not.”
Practice goes on for the next two hours. Heeseung eventually falls into routine, finding himself lost in adrenaline and competitiveness. The thoughts of you cease for a moment, replaced by his quick-thinking strategy and sharp reflexes. He keeps dribbling, scoring, and making passes, not even aware of the ticking clock or when the cheerleader squad comes back in to take a break.
The last whistle finally blows before the players dramatically fall in a heap of sweaty, breathless alphas. The practice was particularly grueling, which made his body ache and his shirt clung to his skin. The coach is on fire today, all because his wife has been giving him a silent treatment. Apparently, he forgot to buy diapers on his way home last night.
Source: Nishimura Nosy.
“I think I might die,” Jay huffs, claiming a bench all to himself. His chest rises and falls in a rapid motion. “But even as a ghost, I bet the coach would still unearth my grave to force me to practice.”
“I’ll be Ghost Number Two.” Heeseung deadpans, lying down on the bench next to Jay. The latter continues to talk about something else, which Heeseung would know and remember if he didn’t get distracted by daisies and honey.
Fuck. You’re in the court again.
The urge to corner you, to grab your wrist and ask if you were okay, crawls under his skin again—restless, unrelenting.
Heeseung isn’t stupid. He knows last night, ugly as it was, doesn’t just fade by morning. His alpha has been clawing at him since then, sharp and impatient, demanding he go to you.
But Heeseung doesn’t move.
For once, he’s a coward.
He shoves it down, buries it deep, treating his own wolf like a disease he refuses to catch.
Heeseung blinks at the ceiling in an active effort to not start looking for you and staring at you like a creep. This time, he wonders quietly why your scent smells stronger than before. Perhaps the adrenaline from your routine. But even so, you don’t only smell strong, but you also smell closer—
“Free cookies!”
Heeseung jolts in surprise and whips his head in the direction of that voice. Or, precisely, your voice. His heart, as if trying to shorten his life span, decides not to take a break from the session just now and continues beating even faster.
There, just a few paces away from him, is you, standing in the middle of the court with one of your cheerleader friends. In her hold, there’s a purple Tupperware, its lid nowhere to be found. You stand slightly behind your friend, shyly looking over her shoulders as she talks to his teammates.
“Oh my God, they brought us cookies?!” Jay is already standing up, stretching lazily like a cat. “C’mon, Hee. It’s free cookies.”
Heeseung’s quick to refuse, despite his wolf begging him to go. “Nah—”
But before he can spit out any excuses, Jay is already dragging him, his weeks spent in the gym working out with Riki are finally paying off. “Don’t be ridiculous. Take your portion and give it to me.”
Heeseung groans. He really should start joining their workout session. He can’t be manhandled by his two best friends easily like this.
Distracted, Heeseung fails to register the decreasing distance between you and him. It’s only when your scent spikes sweetly, which hits him in the face like a fucking tidal wave, does he catch your eyes and realises that, fuckfuckfuck she’s here ohmyGod—
“Hi, Jay. Hi, Heeseung.”
Wait hold on, why does his name sound even more beautiful coming from your voice?
He stands like a flag pole beside Jay, actively avoiding your eyes while being fully aware of that pretty pair staring at his face. The floor suddenly looks very interesting, with skid marks from their shoes and some sweat trails. Okay. Ew. That’s gross.
“Hey, pretty ladies.” Jay greets, flashing his attractive smile as he gestures at the container. “Heard there’s free cookies for the taking? Mind if we have some?”
Smooth as ever, Jay doesn’t even realise how easily he has charmed your friend with his simple greeting. Poor omega is already blinking rapidly, almost bouncing on her toes as she practically shoves the Tupperware into Jay’s chest.
“Yes! Yes, of course you can, Jay. There’s only little left! Take them all!”
Your eyes, fixated on Heeseung since he arrived, tries to search his face as you shyly interrupt, whispering into your friend’s ear.
“Offer some to Heeseung too…”
Heeseung doesn’t know whether to curse or thank the Goddess for his advanced dominant-alpha senses, because overhearing those words…it makes his chest feel warm and tight at the same time.
But your friend doesn’t pay you any mind, urging Jay to take the Tupperware from her. Jay, ever the gentleman but still a little shameless shit when it comes to food, takes it from her eager hands. He takes one bite and immediately lights up.
“This is so good! I love that it’s not too sweet.”
Like a mirror reflecting light, you beam widely, returning Jay’s enthusiasm. Heeseung tries to ignore the ugly twist in his chest. “Really? That’s…good to hear.”
“She made these, by the way!” Your friend proudly announces, which makes red blooms across your cheeks, ducking your head down slightly. You’re so shy, so pretty, Heeseung can’t stop staring.
And so good at baking. Such a perfect omega, his wolf continues. Shut the fuck up, Heeseung hisses.
“You’re really good at this, Y/N,” Jay interrupts his internal war, his voice sounding wrong in his ears. “Care to share the recipe?”
Now, is Jay flirting with you? Since when does his voice sound like that?
Heeseung tries to inhale, attempting to calm his fucking irrational wolf down, but all he can smell is the sugary scent of yours, tangling delicately and blending seamlessly with his spicy cinnamon and salty sea breeze. Somewhere in his chest, his heartstrings soften, drunk in the perfect mix of your pheromones, a ghost of a mark from last night.
Maybe that’s what possessed him to snatch the Tupperware from Jay.
Heeseung wastes no time and starts munching two cookies at once, ignoring the gasps from you and your friend and the bombastic side-eye from his fellow alpha friend. The flavour of buttery vanilla and sweet chocolate chips melt on his tongue and Heeseung almost purrs at the taste.
Outside, he makes an effort to look calm.
“These are good,” he comments coolly, trying to make it sound more like a statement than a compliment (he’s failing). This time, he dares himself to meet your eyes, and has to force down another purr when he sees the sparkles in your eyes. “Thank you, Y/N.”
There’s a strange satisfaction blooming in his chest when the blush in your cheeks deepen. You quickly look down to the floor, mumbling softly that could’ve been missed had it not been for his senses.
What kind of pull is this? Why is every sense of his attuned to you? Heeseung swears he can smell the subtle spike of your scent, the sound of your heartbeat and your soft breathing. It’s like his whole body has decided that it wants to worship you.
And Heeseung doesn’t worship. Fuck. This is terrifying.
“Thank you, Heeseung…”
There. Your voice again. Heeseung swallows. His grip on the Tupperware tightens. Seeing you under this light, flushed and softly smiling to the ground while sneaking glances at him—it undoes him in ways he never dared imagine.
The question is already at the tip of his tongue without his realisation. ‘Are you okay? Does what happened last night still bother you?’ The urge to comfort and soothe, now growing like a rolling snowball, threatening to spill from his mouth.
And the scary part is: Heeseung isn’t sure if that desire comes from his wolf or himself.
However, he never gets the chance to, because Jay with his perfect, universe-timing is already pulling him backwards. “Thank you for the cookies! We’ll eat them well!”
Heeseung reluctantly nods, the grip he has on the Tupperware turning knuckle-white.
“What the fuck was that?” Jay whisper-yells when they’re out of earshot, walking back to their previous spot. “And those are not only for you. Give them back to me!”
Heeseung dodges his grabby hand. “Why the fuck are you eating more?” He asks, failing to mask the bitterness in his voice.
“Didn’t they give all ten of them to us?”
“You’ve had two.”
“And you’ve had five!”
“I don’t care. These are mine.”
“You are being ridiculous.”
That’s what it takes for Heeseung to freeze in his tracks. Seeing an opening, Jay quickly snatches the Tupperware from his grasp and runs back to his spot on the bench, not forgetting to flip off the burgundy-haired alpha as he does so.
Heeseung is losing his fucking mind.
Sighing, Heeseung closes his eyes, a faint trail of daisies and honey still clinging to his senses. Even across the room, among the murmur of the gossiping cheerleaders, it’s your voice, the only one clear and crisp to his ears.
I’m being ridiculous.
This isn’t me.
Slowly, his human side starts taking over, all flowery images of you vanish within seconds.
Fuck, he curses. He wishes this scent-marking will be gone by tomorrow morning.
Three mornings later, much to his dismay, your scent still clings to him. On the bright side, it has been notably fading, now only the remnants of daisies and honey underneath cinnamon and sea air; like crunched petals along the shoreline, waiting to be washed away.
Against his own judgment, however, his wolf is fucking devastated.
He’s been whining like a kicked puppy ever since he walked to practice this morning and couldn’t smell his scent on you instantly. He still can spot you from two buildings away, which is still strange, but the lack of spice and salt in your scent is what does it. Heeseung has to fight the urge to march towards you and start scenting you.
His wolf has been restless. And, inevitably, it puts Heeseung in a terrible mood, too. He never knew his wolf was that desperate.
Practice ends late that night. With the tournament just around the corner, everyone is being a little shit at managing their emotions and competitiveness on the court—the downside of having an all-alpha team that people rarely talk about.
Heeseung is not excluded from the equation, though. He almost threw the ball to Taesan’s knot and made his omega pups-less and pregnancy-free when he accidentally made a bad pass. The court had smelled like tension and a barely held-together brotherhood when he left before a cheerleader came up to him to flirt and he wasted no time to drag her to an empty classroom.
Now, Heeseung finds himself making out with that omega, tongue licking up into her mouth while she breathlessly moans into his. It’s been five days since his last fuck, and while he usually can go on without sex for weeks (one month was his best record), he’s been at his wit’s end today. Add the confusion and silent wars he’s been having about you into the mix, and Heeseung is nothing more than a stressed body waiting to be relieved.
Weirdly enough, the frustration he hopes to get rid of stays as frustration. The old sparks he usually feels when having this intimate moment with an omega seems to disappear tonight. In the back of his mind, like a looming cloud carrying a storm, is a hazy image of teary eyes and red, trembling lips.
Something stirs uneasily in his chest.
His huge, veiny hands slip under her skirt and find purchase on her cunt, gathering the slick leaking from her arousal. Her scent spikes as she bucks up her hips and, to Heeseung’s own surprise, he recoils from the smell of it and breaks the kiss. The girl doesn’t stop her advances, switching to kiss down his long neck instead.
He subconsciously scrunches up his nose, his finger halting its movement for a second.
“What perfume are you wearing?” He asks, voice hoarse from the makeout session. He tilts his head back, allowing access and finding stimulation, but the usual thrill is a bit dull tonight.
“My pheromones,” she manages between kisses, “you like it?”
It’s quite the opposite, to be honest. Heeseung finds himself hating it. It’s too sweet. Too sharp. It sits wrong in his nose, burns at the back of his throat, like inhaling smoke for the first time. His eyes water.
There’s something wrong. He’s not enjoying this.
And to make things worse and more confusing, his chest hurts. It constricts, like his lungs decide to shrink into a ball of unexplained pain. Heeseung’s breath stutters, almost doubling over. His mind is a frantic buzz of noise, chanting something that he can’t seem to fully register yet.
Not my omega. Not daisies. Not honey.
Heeseung feels something twist in his gut.
The nameless omega—he forgot to ask for her name—doesn’t notice the shift yet, the way Heeseung is already a frozen statue of confusion and frustration in her embrace. She continues, trailing down hot, wet kisses along the prominent line of his collarbone and sucks the tender skin.
“Ow!” Heeseung yelps, instinctively pushing her away. The spot stings like a pulsing heartbeat, void of any pleasure that it usually would give. He staggers backwards once.
The girl frowns, clearly not happy being pushed like that. “What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”
“I—” Heeseung hisses, his shirt sitting wrong on his skin, her scent smelling wrong in his nose. He shakes his head. “Shit. I’m sorry, I—I have somewhere to be.”
The girl scoffs, disbelieving. “What?! Heeseung, you can’t just—”
But Heeseung can, and he already does. The alpha is out of the room in the next minute, deliberately the calls of his name and the strings of insults that come from behind him. He makes a run for it.
What the fuck did just happen? Heeseung is never one to refuse a good time with omega, but his wolf is quiet tonight. Too quiet, like it’s being silent on purpose in solidarity for something he’s yet to know—or yet to realise.
The hazy image comes back to his mind, slowly becoming sharp and clear. Heeseung thinks his lungs have turned into bricks when he realises that he’s been imagining you. That his head has been loud with the thoughts of you, even when he’s with someone else.
Why? Why is this happening? Why you?
Heeseung makes a turn to where the locker room is, planning to grab his duffel and leave, when he bumps into Riki and Jay, freshly out of the shower.
“Heeseung hyung?” A shirtless Riki calls his name, then raises a brow when he sees his condition. “Was wondering where you were. But those lipstick stains told me enough.”
Heeseung wipes his neck harshly. Wordlessly, he yanks his locker open and checks himself out in a mirror. He turns his face left and right, yanking down his under eyes, then sighs. Riki and Jay exchange looks. The air is slowly thickening with the pheromones of a distressed alpha, coming from none other than Heeseung.
“You good, mate?” Jay decides to ask him. Heeseung doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he’s as good as he wants himself to be. The alpha lets out another sigh and slams the door closed.
“I think something is definitely wrong with me.”
“Is it practice?” Jay softens his voice, already switching on his therapist-friend mode. “Hee, today’s just that day. Everybody was losing their shits, it’s not just you.”
Heeseung leans his back on the locker and tilts his head upwards. “It’s not that. I mean it biologically. Ever since—” Heeseung pauses, suddenly unsure if saying out loud would make things right. But Riki and Jay have already caught onto it.
“Ever since what?”
Heeseung chooses to deflect. “Look, I was trying to make out with this one pretty omega just now. But no matter how much kissing we did, I just couldn’t enjoy it.” Heeseung points to his sweatpants. Riki and Jay curiously follow with their eyes. “She was practically sucking my tongue and I’m not even bricked up, man!”
Riki furrows his eyebrows. “Not even a spark?”
Heeseung shakes his head. “I couldn’t feel anything. At all. Only,” he swallows harshly. “I only felt disgusted. By her.”
Silence hangs in the room at his revelation. Riki’s expression morphs into something akin to genuine surprise, while Jay only stares at him with a gaping mouth before he starts typing on his phone.
“This is dead serious. You can’t have sex without your dick. That's like a banana cake without bananas.”
Heeseung and Riki grimace. “Please don’t ever compare my dick to a banana again.”
“Or a banana cake.” Riki slaps his shoulder. “That’s my favourite, hyung. Don’t be gross.”
Jay waves a dismissive hand, eyes still glued on his phone. “Right, right. Anyway, I texted Sunoo.”
Heeseung’s eyes go wide like saucer plates at the name and groans. “Sunoo?! Jay, you know he’s still mad at me.”
“I know, but he’s the only one who probably knows the answer to this.” Jay smacks his lips when he reads a new text from Sunoo. “He’s staying back for a lab session. Let’s go to the medicine building.”
And that’s how Heeseung finds himself cramped into a tiny booth of a ramyeon stall, located by the road near the faculty of medicine. A pouty Sunoo is sitting across from him, shooting him his foxy side-eyes as he whines at Jay.
“Jay hyung, why did you bring this traitor with you?” Sunoo pulls at the sleeves of Jay’s hoodie, sulking away from Heeseung. It’s only the three of them since Riki had gone home with his girlfriend just now. “I thought the three of us would include you, me, and Riki.”
Jay sighs exasperatedly. “I had to, Sunoo. That traitor is having a critical dick malfunction and he needs your help.”
The waitress arrives with three bowls of steaming ramyeon. Jay and Sunoo pause their not-so-quiet argument and help her place the bowls on their table. She clears her throat awkwardly, and takes a quick glance at Heeseung before leaving. Heeseung groans internally.
Great. Now words about him and his dick problem will spread around the campus.
“Is STD finally catching up with you?”
Heeseung should know that it was never that easy to get Sunoo off his back. That boy is a professional pouty sulk-er, he’ll never let Heeseung go easily. Not after harassing him with his sass, at least. Heeseung holds back a sigh, already resigned and defeated.
With a grim voice, he apologises to the brown-haired alpha. For the fifth time.
“Sunoo, I am so sorry. I know it was my fault, but for the record, I didn’t know you were serious about pretending to be an omega. Why would you even do that, anyway?”
“Because I like the attention!” Sunoo is fast to defend himself, his pout only deepening. “And because alphas will only spoil me if I was their pretty little soft omega—which I am not! And you exposing my secondary gender to that alpha just ruined my chance to be with him. Who would even call their friend, ‘my cutie little fake omega’, anyway?!”
“I was drunk!”
“A drunk traitor is still a traitor!”
Heeseung turns to Jay, sending him signals to help him out. But his best friend deliberately ignores him, too engrossed in his own bowl, pretending to be a wall. Heeseung rolls his eyes and looks back at Sunoo.
It might not be that easy to console the sulky boy, but Heeseung is labelled a sweet talker for a reason.
“You’re already a pretty alpha, Sunoo. Prettier than any omega I know. Anyone would drop everything for you even if they knew you weren’t an omega.”
Like a switch being flipped, the frown on Sunoo’s melts away, replaced by a beam so wide it shows off his perfect teeth.
“Aw, Heeseungie hyung. You’re now forgiven. Now tell me about this dick problem of yours.”
Jay and Heeseung look at each other and relax into their chairs in relief. Heeseung sends him a look of, ‘That was easy,’ to which Jay raises his eyebrow, ‘Why hadn’t you done it sooner?’
Now, with Sunoo not threatening to kill the burgundy-haired alpha anymore, Heeseung can finally enjoy a few bites of his untouched ramyeon. It’s already a bit cold and soggy, but the broth makes up for it. He retells the story to Sunoo between bites, watching the ever expressive boy react to it with various expressions.
“It’s not uncommon, though. But since it’s you, it must have felt very concerning.” Sunoo hums in thought, tapping his full lips with the thinnest tips of his chopsticks. “Well, Heeseungie hyung, did you imprint on any omegas?”
Heeseung hesitates for a moment before he shakes his head, feeling Jay’s eyes on him.
“No.”
“Hm, okay. Even if it’s due to imprints, it has to come from both sides,” Sunoo rubs his chin, now looking every bit a live action of Detective Conan, minus the glasses. “Did you conjure a bond with anyone? Maybe accidentally?”
Heeseung’s lips part. “I…would’ve known, right?”
“Right.” Sunoo nods firmly, then tilts his head. “Did you scent one of your hookups, then?”
“An almost-hookup,” Jay cuts in, clearly enjoying this interrogation. Heeseung shoots him a look. Jay is always out to rat him out and he’s actually so close to disowning him.
He grunts. “Just…someone.”
Sunoo smiles in amusement. “So you did scent someone. Was it someone you like?”
“Define like.”
“Like them enough to want to kiss them. Like them enough to want to fuck them. Like them enough to even want to scent them to begin with.” Sunoo shrugs. “Pick one.”
Heeseung closes his eyes. Does he like you? Wanting to kiss and fuck someone don’t equal to liking them. Because if that was true, then there’s no other explanation to Heeseung ‘liking’ every omega he has fucked other than him having an insanely big heart—which he doesn’t. He liked the sex and their company; that was all there was to it.
Which leaves him option number three.
Heeseung’s never the guy to sit with his feelings—at least not the romantic kind. You’re an unfamiliar territory; something that he deliberately avoids his entire life, simply because he never sees settling down with a mate as a desirable goal or accomplishment. And, perfectly hidden under his fuckboy persona is also a thin layer of fear.
Fear of getting hurt by the thing that’s supposed to be love.
But does he like you?
Maybe he does. He’s always liked the way you laugh; you always cover your mouth with one hand when you do, like your smile is only visible in the privacy of those who really know you. He’s always noticed the way you touch the tip of your nose when people’s eyes are on you. He’s always thought the natural blush that you have when you’re shy is adorable.
In that one single minute, Heeseung realises that he’s been paying attention to you more than he thought he did.
Fuck. He does like you.
But does liking have to lead to being mated?
That responsibility is way taller and heavier than him and Heeseung is beyond freaked out.
“Earth to Heeseungie hyung?”
“Why does it even matter? What does it even have to do with me not getting a boner during a makeout session?” Heeseung demands, frustration bleeding into his voice. Is Sunoo punishing him for being the reason he fumbled that tall, hot alpha two weeks ago? Will Sunoo truly ever forgive him? He already apologised five times!
Sunoo, seeing enough of his hyung’s suffering, finally relents. “Geez, relax. I wasn’t playing with you. I asked because most of the time this happens,” he gestures at Heeseung and his crotch. Heeseung instinctively closes his long legs. “It’s because the wolf has already liked one omega. An omega they recognise as their mate. It’s the only explanation why you felt disgusted just now.”
Mate. That cursed word again. Beside Sunoo, Jay is whistling.
“Sorry. You mean my wolf, my alpha, likes one omega and decides I shouldn’t fuck around anymore?”
Sunoo nods. “Basically, yeah. But it usually isn’t that easy, hyung. A bond has to have been conjured between your wolf and their wolf by any kind of markings.”
“Like?”
“Like biting. Or scenting.”
Scenting. Heeseung didn’t just do scenting with you, he was scent-marking you.
“But that’s impossible,” Jay interrupts, confusion etching onto his handsome features. His leaning forward now, his empty bowl pushed to the center of the table, which reminds Heeseung of his own bowl. The alpha quickly finishes his noodles. “Scenting between unmated alpha and unmated omega will only conjure a temporary, fragile bond. It should’ve been gone by now—the scenting happened five days ago.”
“Are you sure about that? Because I can detect some floral scent in Heeseungie hyung’s pheromones.”
Heeseung almost chokes on his noodles. “You do?”
Sunoo leans forward, squinting his eyes at him like he’s some kind of lab specimen. “Yeah. It’s faint, but it’s there. Sweet. Floral. Clingy.” He tilts his head again. “It’s weird.”
Across from him, Heeseung is frozen. His grip on the chopsticks tightens. He swallows harshly.
“That’s not supposed to happen…right?”
“Exactly,” Sunoo points at him. “That’s why I’m saying it’s weird.”
Jay leans back, arms crossed. “But if it’s still there after five days—”
“It doesn’t automatically mean fated mates,” Sunoo cuts in quickly, tone sharper this time. He shoots Jay a look before turning back to Heeseung. “Don’t jump to that conclusion. That’s, like, extremely rare. And also very dramatic.”
Heeseung exhales, shoulders dropping just a little.
Right. Dramatic. His alpha begs to differ.
“It could just be a stronger-than-usual temporary bond,” Sunoo continues, more thoughtful now. “Maybe your alpha overdid it when you scented them. Or the omega was in a heightened emotional state, so the bond lasted longer.”
Jay hums, not entirely convinced.
“But the whole not getting turned on thing?” He gestures vaguely. “That still doesn’t explain it fully.”
Sunoo taps his chin again. “Mhm. That part’s interesting.” He levels Heeseung with a curious look. “Who is this girl, anyway? You seem pretty fucked over her.”
Heeseung groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Can you not say it like that? Like I’m some kind of a broken alpha?”
“You kinda are right now,” Sunoo says bluntly.
“Sunoo.”
“I’m serious!” He leans forward again, eyes lighting up. “Your body is rejecting other omegas. That’s not normal for you. Like, at all.”
Heeseung slumps deeper into his seat. As if it’s not already obvious enough, Sunoo just had to spell it out loud.
“I noticed,” he mutters, defeated.
Sunoo softens slightly at that, sighing as he rests his chin on his palm. “Okay. Look. Don’t panic yet.”
“I’m not panicking.”
“You’re literally here because your dick stopped working.”
“…Okay, I’m a little panicked.”
Sunoo waves his chopsticks dismissively. “It’s probably not fated mates. If it were, you’d be way worse right now.”
Heeseung stills. “Worse?”
“Yeah,” Sunoo shrugs. “You’d be obsessing. Unable to stay away. Your senses would go crazy. You’d feel everything they feel, more or less.”
Jay slowly turns to look at Heeseung. Heeseung immediately avoids his gaze. That fucker is always eager to catch his ‘Gotcha!’ moment, it irritates him to the core.
“That doesn’t sound like me,” he says a bit too quickly, the lie tasting acidic on his tongue.
Sunoo mustn't know about the knot of uneasiness in his chest. Sunoo mustn’t know about the face that comes to his mind when he’s kissing someone else. None of his friends must know that he’s obsessing right now, itching to flee and find you in the middle of the night.
“Exactly,” Sunoo nods, unaware of his friend’s turmoil. “So relax. I’ll look into it more, yeah? Might be some weird hormonal response or delayed imprint reaction.”
Heeseung lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “Yeah, okay.”
“Or you can do a try-and-error,” Sunoo suggests, reaching over to pat Heeseung’s shoulder. “Just do what you always do—try hooking up with different omegas. Maybe the one you made out with tonight was just a bad compatibility for you.”
Heeseung perks up at that. Sunoo and Jay, not noticing the shift in the air, are already moving forward with a different topic, completely oblivious to the newly-lit determination now burning up his body.
Just do what you always do.
Right. Heeseung has a high body count for a reason. He decides, with a final resolution, that he should solve this his own way.
If Heeseung spends every night for the next two weeks trying to bed different omegas, Sunoo and Jay don’t have to know.
If Heeseung fails each time, unable to enjoy every kiss and friction, Sunoo and Jay don't have to know.
If the pain in his chest worsens every time he leaves the barely-warm beds, Sunoo and Jay don’t have to know.
If Heeseung avoids looking at you, avoids bumping into you, avoids speaking to you—he hopes you don’t know about it.
A quiet voice from his wolf whispers something that he refuses to acknowledge: He hopes you’ll forgive him for being unfaithful.
You’ve been sick for two weeks.
At first it was subtle, like a faint throb in your heart that makes you stop whatever you’re doing. The first time it happened, you were in the middle of a group discussion for an elective subject.
A quiet alpha, or a wolf hybrid named Sunghoon, to be exact, had noticed the way you winced from the pain. He didn’t say anything, but you guessed he told an omega about what he saw because right before you exited the library, one of the girls had passed you a free menstrual pad.
He thought you were experiencing period cramps. You wished it was just period cramps.
Then, it gradually grew to something worse. A sudden stabbing pain in your chest. A twist in your gut, like you were expecting something bad to happen. Sometimes it was random palpitations, where your heart was skipping huge beats, as if you were about to go down on a roller coaster.
Each time it happened, you only placed your palm over your heart, hoping it’d go away. You never understood why, but those pains only came at night, preventing you from getting any good sleep and rest. And each time you tried to close your eyes, there was only one face flashing behind your eyelids.
Heeseung.
Yujin had dragged you to the clinic, but the doctor came to a conclusion that you were just having pre-heat symptoms—which couldn’t be further from the truth, because you just had your cycle one month ago. You’re not supposed to go on your quarterly-cycle of torture for another two months.
“Oh my Goddess, you’re burning up.” Yujin’s palm is cold against your forehead. Her face is pulled into a tight expression. “Let’s just skip today’s classes, okay? I’ll stay with you.”
You weakly nod, barely registering Yujin’s movement around the room. Your body feels like a furnace, the heat simmering in your veins almost rivaling a volcano’s lava. You discard the blanket to get some sort of relief, only to shiver in the cold when the air touches your skin.
After a few minutes of exiting and entering your room, Yujin finally sits by your bed. She helps you with a glass of water and a dosage of paracetamol, careful to wipe any loose drops like a concerned mother. It doesn’t get better, but at least your throat doesn’t feel like it’s being scrubbed with sandpaper anymore.
“How’re you feeling now?”
“Dying, but a bit less dramatic.”
“Good. Wouldn’t want to give Suho from True Beauty a run for his money, would we?”
You chuckle softly, though it sounds more like a seal with a sore throat.
“But seriously, though. It’s been two weeks.” Yujin purses her lips, the worriness still marring her beautiful face. “I’m so worried, Y/N. What’s happening to you?”
You don’t answer right away. “It’s my omega.”
Yujin’s eyebrow jumps. “What about her?”
You also wonder the same thing. Swallowing, you finally let your friend in on the torturous days you have been going through. “One night, after our practice ran quite late two weeks ago, she went a bit hysteric. I couldn’t stop vomiting.” You recalled, eyes distant in memory. “She kept yelling something about a traitor, about rejection. I don’t know, really. But that’s how it started.”
“Two weeks ago, at night, you say?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Yujin is quiet for a few extended minutes, caressing her thumb over your knuckles. The motion puts you at ease, and slowly, you feel the pills begin working their chemicals.
“Did you, perhaps, hear about anything that happened that night?” You shake your head, unsure if your cheerleader squad had mentioned anything. Yujin hums. “Because I think I did.”
“What?”
“So I’m friends with this one omega named Sunoo from my faculty. A pretty boy and a petty gossiper.” Yujin starts, now treading her words slowly as if walking on eggshells. “He knows everyone on this campus. Especially the hot stuff, you know—student body, athletes, cheerleaders.” Yujin eyes you but not unkindly. “He knows you too. Just the basic stuff.”
“Like?”
“Your name, your major, your Instagram account.”
You let out a breath, a bit unsure where this is heading, but listen anyway. “Okay.”
“And because of his impeccable knowledge of gossip, I heard from him about a cheerleader breaking down in the group chat after a certain alpha left her mid-making out, all slicked and horny while he didn’t even pop a borner.”
You hold onto her every word, but for some reason, a dread has settled deep in your bones, like your body is already anticipating some bad news. Your heart, previously beating fast, is now sprinting like it might escape your rib now.
“And that alpha was Heeseung.”
It hits before you can even think.
A sharp, twisting pain lances through your chest, knocking the air out of your lungs like you’ve been struck. Your fingers curl into the sheets, clutching at nothing.
Your omega whines—hurt, betrayed. And suddenly, you understand why. The cries about betrayal. His face haunts you every night, like a painful reminder of the destiny you're subjected to.
You try to swallow once, then twice, before you find your voice back.
“Heeseung?” You try. His name now tastes bitter on your tongue.
Yujin, ever the empathetic, senses it, and tightens her hold on your hand. “Yeah,” she nods. She lets a moment of quiet pass, fidgeting and swallowing like you. Like the news has more stories that she’s yet to tell; an extended part to a nightmare that’s been keeping you up at night. You brace yourself.
“And two nights ago I saw him at Jake’s frat party with a girl. Doing sexy stuff. The usual.” Yujin can’t look at your face, choosing to stare at your intertwined hands instead. “The frat boys told me that he’s been at it almost every night. For two weeks.”
Is it possible to hurt someone this much in a span of five minutes? Getting shot multiple times would’ve hurt less than this.
There’s a heavy silence, then there’s your small, quiet voice, laced with unfiltered hurt.
“What does this have to do with me?”
“I’m saying, Y/N, that you might be facing bond rejection symptoms right now.” Yujin licks her lips. “I’m saying that you and Heeseung just might be fated mates. That night he scented you? You guys conjured a half-bond. And him fucking around with other omegas like this hurts your wolf because she knows—only this kind of bond can do that.”
Is having a fated mate supposed to hurt like this? Like your chest is caving in, collapsing under the torment of unwanted love. Can you even call it love? Whatever it is that you and Heeseung unknowingly have been sharing—Is it even love?
It’s not. It’s just…fate.
You shake your head. There’s hot pain behind your eyes, a sign of an impending doom. “This doesn’t make any sense.”
“It’s okay. It’s a lot to take in.”
A drop of tears rolls down your face and in the next blink, everything is already blurry. “I—I think I already knew it.” Your voice is wet from despair, the pain almost feels tangible. “He never meets my eyes anymore and—and every time I see him, I feel like I might die.”
A warm pair of arms pulls you close, and instantly the scent of green tea fills up your senses. Your roommate holds you tight, letting you rest your head in the crook of her neck as you sob into her chest.
Your wolf, the contradict that she is, hopes that it was Heeseung embracing you. Still hoping it was the alpha comforting you, soothing you with his voice and that calming pheromones of his. Still foolishly longing for him despite everything.
You feel pathetic.
Your crying subsides after a while, still curling up against Yujin like a hurt puppy. You’re already losing track of time, if it’s still proper to have breakfast or if it’s already time for lunch. It is Yujin who finally speaks first.
“Do you hate it?”
You let the question linger in the air, turning it over in your thoughts like what you’ve been doing the past hour since you woke up. “I don’t hate the bond. Nor him.”
You pause, gnawing at your lower lip. Then you exhale.
“I just hate that I was never given a chance to do this properly.”
Yujin pulls away and makes you face her. She wipes your tears using her sleeves, murmuring sweet words as you feel your chest slightly loosening at her kind gesture. “You might still have it. Go and talk to him, Y/N. If he’s avoiding you like this, he might’ve felt something too, right?”
“If he’s avoiding me like this, he might just not want anything to do with me.” A humourless chuckle escapes your lips. “And to think that I thought I had a chance.”
“Wait, I never asked you this. Do you like Heeseung? Both of you; your wolf and you.”
You don’t answer right away. The question sits between the two of you, heavy and fragile; like a mark refusing to be looked over.
Do you like Heeseung?
Your wolf stirs immediately. Yes, I like him.
The answer is quick. Certain. Definite.
But you purse your lips, forcing yourself to think harder, deeper. Forcing yourself to think about you, not her. You can only come to one conclusion.
“I don’t know,” you whisper, honest. It sounds weak even to your ears. Beside you, Yujin keeps rubbing small, grounding circles over your hand.
“I already know my omega likes him,” you admit softly. “She decided that the moment he stayed and took care of me that night.”
Oh, how pathetic is it to fall for someone for doing something as mundane as staying and taking care of you?
It’s laughable. But it makes your chest ache even more, like your heart was an empty can and fate was crushing it with its tight grip.
“But me…” you continue, voice quieter now, “I don’t even know him like that.”
You shake your head, frustration flickering through your expression.
“I don’t know what he’s like when he’s not surrounded by people, or when he’s not—” you gesture vaguely, like you can scoop up every rumour tied to his name. “That version of him everyone talks about.”
You stare at your hands. “But I wanted to.”
Yujin follows, voice soft. “Wanted to?”
“I wanted to get to know him,” you continue, voice trembling. “When I first found out how my wolf feels for him, I thought it could be like how I’ve always imagined having a fated mate would be: slowly falling in love with them. With him.”
A wistful smile graces your beautiful features, soft and vulnerable. “I wanted to know which game he remembers the most. I wanted to know if the number on his jersey means anything. Silly things like that. Not this.”
Your hand moves to your chest unconsciously, rubbing the surface softly.
“Not like this. Not when it hurts every time I—” you cut yourself off, breath shaking. “Not when it hurts every time I look at him.”
You still remember, after one grueling routine, when the pain was still kind enough to let you come to practice. The players had just finished their practice too, slicked with sweat and looking exhausted as ever. Among the tired alphas, your eyes locked onto Heeseung’s.
You had the instincts to go to him and pass him the cold mineral you’d unknowingly saved for him. But the look in his eyes—it was unreadable. Cold. An abyss that was enough to make you stay rooted in your place.
Then, without even a graze of a smile, he looked away, taking a bottle from Riki’s hand.
It had hurt more than you’d like to admit.
“I think…” you try again, more carefully this time. “If things were different, I would’ve liked him.”
Your throat tightens. This time, you’re reminded of that night before everything turned cruel like this. The warmth of his embrace that lingered. The spice of his scent that clung. The safety of his company that comforted you.
Was any of it real?
“And if things were the same…I think I would've still liked him anyway.”
That’s the truth. A quiet, terrifying truth that settles deep in your chest like an unshakeable ground. The kind of truth that makes even your most grounding friend sit still in your bed.
“And that’s what makes it worse,” you whisper.
Because now it’s not just your omega.
It’s you, too.
The one-week intervarsity basketball tournament has finally begun. Around seven universities have sent their representatives, leading to a flood of humans in different-coloured jerseys wandering around on your campus, its official host.
You’re excused from the whole week’s classes, seeing your cheerleaders and bunches of alphas more than you have ever seen your classmates since the tournament started. It was exciting at first, to participate in such a prestigious tournament that is always the talk of town. But the tight schedules between games is becoming more taxing and demanding.
It doesn’t help that the bond rejection symptoms have only gotten worse, hindering you from giving your best potential at each routine. Which, of course, catches the attention of your captain, and she’s not very amused with it.
“Y/N. If you’re not telling me what is wrong with you, then don’t make me find excuses to put you on the bleachers.” Narin once whispered to you on the third day of the tournament. You merely nodded, trying hard not to scrunch your noise at the sour smell of bubblegum and burnt cotton candy. She eyed you up and down, before she scoffed.
“Don’t get too butt-hurt that Heeseung’s fucking other cheerleaders,” she grunted. You froze. “At least you got your round that night. He fucking rejected me.”
What? The confusion must be clear on your face, because then Narin rolled her eyes, fixing the blue ribbon in her hair before she turned to face you.
“You smelled like him for weeks, Y/N. Don’t think people didn’t know that you two fucked after they won against that eastern university that night.” And then she left, leaving a dumbfounded you in the hallway, standing still like a lifeless statue.
Realisation starts settling in. Did people think you and Heeseung—fuck. You should’ve known.
No wonder many eyes were on you during those days when you still smelled like Heeseung. You thought it was just because Heeseung was one of the most sought after alphas on campus. Not this. Not whatever allegation this is.
Still, the bomb Narin had dropped wasn’t enough to stop yourself from pushing yourself past your limits. You don’t even know what your limits are anymore. They seem to keep expanding with every new pain that blooms in your chest.
You’re still a bit sluggish, but at least Narin is off your back. Whatever bitterness she harbours for you, though not forgotten, is at least tamed on the last day of the tournament.
You knew she wouldn’t understand, but you couldn’t help it if the pain worsens. You wish, for once, that Heeseung would take it slow with the cheerleaders from the opposing teams. Because the pain has become unbearable; cracks turning into holes of emptiness in your heart, faint pulsing turning into straight-up invisible stabbing in your gut. You’re actually surprised that you’re not already bleeding from how real it has felt.
However, deep down, there’s a small, barely-there gratitude for Heeseung for not doing it in front of you. At least you can spare yourself from whatever possible torment this fate has destined for you to face if you had to watch Heeseung fucking another omega in the empty locker room.
But you guess it’s time you finally, actually reach your limit, and your body can’t seem to be more dramatic to choose the last game as its last straw. As Heeseung hoops in the last score for the team, sealing their title as the champion, the audience erupts into the loudest cheer you’ve ever heard. You quickly get to your feet to perform the celebratory routine, but the world is spinning and your head is light when you stand up. You stagger backwards.
“Oh my Goddess, are you alright?” One of your cheerleader friends catches you in her arms, shaking you out of your pained daze.
“I…” you cough, your voice only scratching at your throat. “I just need to. Sit. Yeah. I need to sit down and talk to Heeseung.”
“Heeseung?” The girl, who you finally recognise as Rei, looks over at the center of the court, where almost the whole school is hooting and hollering in joy. “Wait—let me sit you down first. You’re pale as hell, damn.”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you’re finally seated. Rei has passed you a bottle of mineral water and fans you with her pink hand-fan. She stays by your side, looking after you as the rest of the world celebrates the first champion of your university team. You’re painfully grateful to her for it.
“Hey. Can I call one of your friends? Or maybe, do you have an alpha I can contact?” Rei starts when you’re not speaking, too focused on not focusing on the pain to remember to talk. “You asked for Heeseung just now. Is he your alpha?”
Is he?
You wish you knew the answer to that too.
Instead, you shake your head. “He’s not my alpha. I just…need to have a few words with him.”
Rei purses her lips, clearly not pleased with your priority at the moment but obliges anyway. “Alright. Let me text my cousin real quick.” She says, already rummaging inside her bag for her phone.
Her statement intrigues you. “Cousin?”
“Nishimura Riki. And he’s not replying. Gimme a sec.” You watch as Rei presses the call button on her phone and puts the device over her ear. You follow her line of sight as she turns to look at the court again. The crowd hasn’t calmed down from the high of the win yet.
“Hello, adopted fuck. I need you to read my text ASAP—Nobody’s stealing your girlfriend, Riki! You can go back to kissing her face after you read my text—Okay, okay! My friend, Y/N, needs to talk to Heeseung. President-level urgent.” Rei pauses, taking a quick look at you before she continues. “Yes. It seems very important. Just get his ass here fast. Yeah—Congrats, by the way. I’m not buying you that Chrome Hearts chain. Bye.”
Rei sighs as she pockets her phone. “Heeseung will be here in five minutes. You good? Do you still need anything? I feel like I should call someone else. You’re friends with Ahn Yujin, aren’t you?” She rambles on. For someone who barely speaks to you, Rei sure is a caring omega.
You give her a small smile.”I’m alright, Rei. I’ll rest after seeing him.”
Rei hums, checking her phone when it vibrates. “Aight, if you say so. I’ll be around here until they move to celebrate at Jake’s frat tonight.” She gathers her stuff and stands up, brushing her pleated skirt with practiced elegance that you know is instilled in every cheerleader’s demeanour.
“You take care of yourself. And I better not see you at the party.”
“Thank you, Rei.” You wave at her and watch as the lines of her frame get smaller, disappearing into the crowd.
Now alone, the weight of reality is finally hitting you square in the chest. You curse, pulling your hair when you realise your stupid, impulsive decision, made in the whim of desperation to get the pain go away.
“This is stupid,” you whisper. Without thinking further, you grab your bag and stand to leave. But before you can flee the scene, a heavy presence with the familiar scent of spicy cinnamon and salty sea breeze drifts into your senses.
“Y/N?”
The sound of your name leaving his lips has locked you in place. The haunting familiarity of his voice, one that follows you into your restless sleeps and every waking hour, engulfs you almost like the night he held you in his arms.
Except this time, there’s a piercing pain in your heart that comes with his presence. A dull, throbbing ache that’s been a constant company to you, manifested into the shape of the man that your wolf yearns for.
Lee Heeseung.
“Y/N?” He repeats, but you don’t dare to face him just yet. “Riki said you wanted to, uh, talk to me.”
Licking your dry lips, you turn to Heeseung, and the sight has almost rendered you breathless.
Heeseung’s still wearing his jersey, standing tall to his height like he’s dominating the air around him. His burgundy hair looks softer under the light, some small strands sticking to his forehead from sweat. His shoulders are squared up, still lined with pride and the high from winning the tournament. He looks at you calmly, but the edges of his eyes are somewhat gentler; if the lights weren’t tricking your eyes.
You gulp, already losing the battle before it has even started. Why does he have to look so handsome?
You force yourself to say something. “Yeah. I did. I mean, I do. It’s important. I think.”
Heeseung is patient. If your nervousness is something unusual to him, he doesn’t comment on it. After all, you’re indeed known as a shy girl among the cheerleaders.
“I’m…I’m going straight to the point and be honest with you.” Is this really happening? You’re scared that if you were to speak more, your heart might leap out of your mouth from how hard it is pumping behind your ribs. You hold your bag tighter, trying to ground yourself.
“I’m listening,” he hums.
The words are simple. His voice is calm. Too calm, like he’s unaffected, like he doesn’t have a clue about what you’re about to say. It almost makes you falter.
For a second, you just stare at him. At the same face your mind has been haunted for weeks, at the same eyes you’ve been avoiding because they make everything feel too real.
Except everything is actually real. You’re just not ready to admit it yet.
Your fingers curl tighter around your bag.
“Did you…feel anything?” you ask, voice smaller than you intended. “That night.”
Heeseung’s brows pull together, confused. “What do you mean?”
Your throat burns. Stop. Turn around. Leave.
“When you helped me,” you stubbornly continue, ignoring the self-preservation act your wolf’s pulling. “When you scented me. Did you feel something? Anything?”
There’s a shift in the air. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Heeseung’s shoulders stiffen. His jaw tightens a fraction. A flash of something that leaves your heart hopeful crosses his face, but it leaves as soon as it comes.
“I was just helping you,” he finally says, almost too quickly. “You were in a bad state.”
The ache in your chest pulses, turning alive with each passing second.
“I know that,” you nod, almost too fast, the throbbing in your head comes back. The headache is well-guaranteed after this, you’re sure of it. “I know. I’m not saying you did anything wrong. I just—I just need to know if you felt it too.”
“Felt what?”
You stare at him. God, he’s really making you say it. Is he truly clueless or is he playing with you? Whatever he is trying to do, he’s succeeding at making you feel smaller and…desperate.
“The pull,” you whisper after a while, “the connection.”
Silent stretches between the two of you. Heeseung returns your gaze, but his black eyes reveal nothing about his thoughts.
You try again. “You felt it too…right?”
There it is. For a fleeting second, you think you see it. That flicker in his eyes. The subtle hesitation. The twitch in his jaw. It almost makes you feel hopeful.
Heeseung exhales through his nose, running a hand through his hair.
“Y/N,” he starts slower this time, like he’s choosing his words carefully. “There’s no such thing as that.”
If your heart was made of lead, you’re sure it’d clang to the floor so loud for how fast it drops.
“What?”
“Fated mates. Bond. Whatever you’re thinking.” He shakes his head, like he’s making a show of how ridiculous you sound. “That’s not real.”
The cracks finally shatter, allowing a big, gaping hole filled with utter anguish to take place in where your heart used to reside. Your mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens.
“But—” you try, voice undeniably trembling now. “Then, what is this?”
Your hand presses weakly against your chest.
“Why does it hurt like this? Why does,” your voice cracks, your omega thrashing wildly inside you, “why does it hurt so much?”
For a split second, panic flashes across his face. There’s a change in his scent. A sharp, biting spice that’s stinging your nose and thick, briny salt that leaves your throat itchy.
Because he knows. He knows this isn’t normal. He knows how he almost went psychosis the moment it happened to him three weeks ago.
But Heeseung’s always been good at leaving—it’s the one thing that’s been keeping his heart in a safe chest without any chances of getting hurt. It’s almost cruel that he never really cares if leaving right after sex would hurt any of the omegas, but he’s never felt bad enough to stop.
And you feel like someone who will make him stay.
So he does what he knows best.
“It’s in your head,” he says, firmer now. “Probably just your heat cycle messing with you. Or stress.”
The moment those words leave his mouth, your chest feels hollow. Your omega, previously hysterical and angry, is now awfully quiet and wounded.
Right. It’s just stress, he said.
You wish it was just stress.
“Oh,” is the only word you can utter. Heeseung nods, as if convincing himself too, and takes a step back.
But for you, it feels too much like a line being drawn.
“Maybe you should get some rest. You look kind of pale,” he suggests, though his voice is slowly getting small the longer he watches the changes in your expression. You’re not looking at him now, just staring at your feet with trembling fists.
The wilting flowers are back in his senses, filling up his nose and beating at his heart like a bat. Heeseung bites his lips, swallowing down the guilt.
“I’ll see you around, Y/N.”
The sight of his retreating back…why is it so blurry?
“You are so fucking stupid, Heeseung.”
Heeseung’s always wondered how his best friend’s citrusy pheromones are going to smell like when he’s mad. Because Jay never gets mad at him. His friend has so much patience that every playful banter always stays as just a playful banter.
But tonight, Heeseung finally senses it. Jay smells bitter, like overripe lemon left too long in hot water. There’s a sharp, metallic tang to it too, representing the control that he’s trying so hard to keep in check. In response to the alpha’s irritated scent, Heeseung’s dominant wolf is itching to draw his claws out, sensing it as a threat.
They’re standing at the backyard of the frat house, where the pool is glowing blue and the night sky is blinking stars. It’s quieter here, with less people hanging around. Many guests have preferred to dance inside, still in celebration mode post-winning.
“What the fuck were you thinking, trying to get into someone else’s pants right after her—her confession?” Jay scoffs in disbelief. He has his back facing Heeseung, the tense muscle of his shoulders visible through the outline of his Polo shirt.
Heeseung, on the other hand, looks more disheveled. The collar of his shirt is misplaced, and there are faint lipstick marks staining his neck and the corner of his mouth. Jay had heard from Riki about what happened between Heeseung and you and the alpha was determined to drag Heeseung out of the bedroom, not before muttering a small apology to the omega he was with. It was all shouts and aggressive whispers between the two alphas until Riki managed to shoo them out.
Which brings them to this moment, where Jay is a ticking bomb and Heeseung is trying his best to calm down. Jay didn’t exactly know who she was, just that he’d seen her face among the cheerleaders. While Heeseung, well, he’s too worked up to explain.
“Confession? What made you think—”
“You guys are fated mates, Heeseung. Can’t you fucking see it?” Jay whips his head around. “This pull you’re feeling is because you guys are fated mates. There’s no other explanation to it.”
Heeseung clenches his jaw. “Those things don’t exist, Jongseong. Not to me.”
“Oh, come on. Then explain your sex problem.” Jay hisses, his eyes turning sharper. “You think I don’t know that you still can’t get your dick wet with other omegas?”
The burgundy-haired alpha doesn’t blink. “It’s none of your business.”
“It is when she could’ve died!” Jay snaps, his scent flaring with his nose. Heeseung grits his teeth, feeling challenged.
Then, softer, like vulnerability leaking through his anger, Jay continues: “You could’ve died, Heeseung.”
Heeseung stills. “What?”
Jay lets out a harsh laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think so little of this matter, don’t you?” His voice drops, tight and furious. “A half-bond between fated mates when left too long can cause death. And with the speed you’re going with all these nameless omegas, I bet it’ll be her turn to die first.”
Heeseung scoffs, but it’s weaker now. There’s a new fear settling in his chest. “You’re being dramatic.”
“No,” Jay cuts in sharply. “You’re being stupid. I saw her just now. She’s pale as fuck.”
Heeseung’s quiet for a moment, staring into his friend’s eyes with almost the same amount of resentment. “It has nothing to do with me.”
Like a punishment to his lie, something twists sharply in his chest. But Heeseung is quick to mask his pain under a calm facade, gritting his teeth so hard he might break his jaw. Jay scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“Oh, so you’re doing this again.” Jay steps closer, not backing away. “You’re running away again, like the coward that you are. You’ll just run and run, deflect and disappear. Typical Heeseung.”
Jay knows he’ll hit a spot if he says it, but he couldn’t care less. He watches as the expression on Heeseung hardens, giving away the emotions he kept locked in his chest.
“Don’t.”
But Jay doesn’t stop. Of course he doesn’t.
“You think I don’t see it?” Jay presses, voice rising. “Every time something starts to mean something, you bolt. New omega, new bed, new distraction—anything to avoid actually feeling something real.”
“That’s not—”
“That’s exactly what this is!” Jay gestures wildly, frustration spilling over. “You found your mate, and instead of dealing with it, you’re out there fucking anything that moves just to prove you’re still in control.”
Silence slams between them, heavy and ugly. Both alphas are holding back from spiraling, neck straining from self-control and simmering anger.
Heeseung’s laugh this time is cold. “Mate?” he repeats, like the word tastes disgusting. “You really believe in that shit?”
Jay stares at him, disbelief flickering across his face. “I believe in what’s right in front of me.”
“There’s nothing in front of you,” Heeseung shoots back. “She’s just an omega I helped. That’s it.”
“Then why her?” Jay fires immediately. “Why can you find her in a crowd? Why does your scent stick to her for days—for weeks? Why can’t you even touch another omega without looking like you’re about to throw up?”
Heeseung falters, his words failing him as Jay hits him with those facts. His shaky stance doesn’t go unnoticed by the alpha, though. He’s quick to seize the chance.
Jay inhales sharply. “You know I’m right, Heeseung. You and Y/N share a bond.”
“So what?!” Heeseung snaps, frustration finally cracking through. “So what if there’s a bond? You want me to just—what? Drop everything? Play house? Act like I’m suddenly someone I’m not?”
Heeseung meets Jay’s fiery gaze head-on and shoves his friend harshly. “Stay out of it, Jay. I swear to fucking God.”
“And what? Watch you let her die because you couldn’t care less to acknowledge the bond?” Jay lets out a hollow laugh, pushing Heeseung back just as hard. “And then I watch you die?”
“Shut the fuck up. You know nothing about this.”
Their scents clash; sharp citrus and aggressive spice filling up the space like a warning siren. It almost turns physical, Riki almost bursts through the door when he sees their chests almost touching. But it is Jay who stops first.
Not because he wants to. But because he’s thinking of you.
“My parents are fated mates, Heeseung.” Jay starts, quieter, his voice losing its harsh edges. “Doesn’t mean you don’t believe in it, it isn’t real to other people.”
Heeseung remains quiet, his chest still moving rapidly.
Jay’s eyes turn glassy. He retreats one more step away from Heeseung. “If you don’t want her, reject the bond properly,” he says, breathing hard. “You’re letting someone know that you don’t want her as your mate. At least have the decency to be kind about it.”
Jay unclenches his fists.
“Don’t drag her through this half-assed bullshit where you keep hurting her just because you can’t make a decision.”
Heeseung freezes. Out of all words being shouted tonight, it is this quiet resignation from Jay that hits his heart the hardest.
Am I being cruel? Heeseung lowers his gaze. Am I a coward?
Heeseung doesn’t wait too long for an answer.
“Stop being a coward, Heeseung. I beg you.”
The words hang between them, like unwanted vines curling around a trunk of a tree. Heeseung’s gaze stays rooted to the ground, trying to find his voice.
But he doesn’t get the chance to.
“...Heeseung?”
Your voice, soft as it is, cuts through the air like a blade. Both alphas turn to where you’re standing by the door. The faint light spilling from the moon only highlights how pale your face is, void of any warmth and colour.
You stand there, one hand gripping the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping you upright, your other pressed weakly against your chest. Your eyes, God, your eyes. They’re glassy, unfocused, yet locked onto him like you’ve found something you’ve been searching for your entire life.
Beside him, Heeseung can sense the way Jay’s body tenses the way his does.
“Heeseung…” you call for him again and move to get closer.
But then you flinch. Your entire body recoils, your nose scrunches.
There, lingering around Heeseung like an unwanted mark, is a scent you know too well. Fruity bubblegum and cloying cotton candy; a scent that flashes pink in your head, turning into a female rage that hits too close to home. Your gaze catches the shape of someone’s mouth staining his golden skin, and something inside you breaks.
Narin.
Heeseung smells like Narin.
Your hand instinctively goes to cover your nose, eyes slowly going wide. The room goes silent, holding its breath as Heeseung feels it.
The fleeting second where something inside you shatters.
Heeseung steps forward. “Y/N—”
But you retreat faster, away from him like he’s a disease that could kill you.
“No,” your voice cracks, shaking your head as if trying to physically deny what your body is already registering. “No, no, no…”
Your breath comes out in shallow bursts, your fingers clawing at your shirt.
It hurts. It hurts so bad.
It’s like every system in your body is collapsing, failing to cope with the ultimate rejection that comes in the scent of another woman. Your fist hits your chest, forcing the air to flow in because it suddenly feels almost impossible to breathe.
Heeseung feels it now—really, really feels it. The bond is thrashing, frantic, like it’s holding onto something that’s slipping through its grasp. The pained scent of withering daisies starts filling up the air, suffocating both alphas instantly. Jay shifts uncomfortably, looking back and forth from Heeseung to you in alert.
“Hey, hey—Y/N,” Heeseung tries again, softer this time, reaching out instinctively. “Look at me. Y/N—”
“Don’t!” Your voice spikes, sharp with fear. Heeseung freezes, his throat closing up when he sees something you’re yet to realise.
That’s when you feel it—something warm trickling down your nose. You instinctively wipe it and stare at the red liquid smearing your fingers.
Blood. Then another drop falls on your palm. Before you can react properly, it already spills down your chin, past your fingers, dripping onto the floor, tainting the white tiles like a crime scene.
“Fuck.” Jay curses under his breath, his wolf perking up in alarm.
Beside him, Heeseung is beyond agitated. “Y/N!”
He doesn’t think. Heeseung lunges forward, longing to be close to you at that moment. But you’re already shaking your head rapidly, tears spilling uncontrollably now.
“Stop!” you gasp, pale lips trembling like dying petals. “I can’t do this—I can’t—”
Inside you, your omega is screaming in pain. In betrayal. In self-preservation. Her voice, raw and jagged, torn by pain, echoes in your head.
An instinct, primal and desperate, takes over your being.
Cut it off.
Cut it off before it kills you.
You clutch at your chest, lungs burning up like a wildfire. Tears spill out freely, drenching your face in anguish and agony.
Cut it off!
And finally, you let go.
Across from you, just a few paces away, Heeseung feels it like a force, stopping him in his tracks.
It doesn’t come gradually, or slowly. It rips through his body. A violent, invisible force tearing straight through his chest like something sacred being forcibly severed. His breath is knocked out of him.
“Fuck!” Somewhere behind him, Jay is also spiraling, realising what’s going down.
But Heeseung doesn’t know. He staggers, his knees almost giving up as excruciating pain spreads from the scent gland in his neck down to his chest. Something inside him—something he never fully acknowledges—finally snaps. He almost screams.
A thick veil of tears wells up instantly, blurring his vision faster than he could process it.
“Y/N,” his voice breaks, the cracks showing up like poison in daggers. Across from him, you’re already sobbing.
It’s loud and raw, a wailing that stops even the loud music from inside. Your scent, bitter and beyond distressed, is now flooding the space like a broken dam. Your body folds in on itself as if trying to contain something that’s already shattered beyond repair.
Inside of you, your omega goes silent completely.
And it terrifies him. A lot.
Heeseung clutches his neck, where his scent gland is pulsing violently, throbbing in an indescribable pain that feels like it could kill him. And when his eyes find yours, he realises with dread that the pull is no longer there.
He can’t feel you. His wolf can’t feel your wolf.
The constant, aching thread that’s been tying him to you; it’s gone.
You cut the bond from your side.
The half-bond, already fragile with doubt and cowardice, is hanging by its loose thread. If it was a red string like many people had said, Heeseung’s sure it’d waver pathetically by his finger, trembling like a thread losing its kite.
“What…What did you do?” he whispers, voice hollow and shaky.
Heeseung takes a step forward again, ignoring Jay’s warning voice from behind him. His focus becomes singular on you, not minding the many pairs of eyes watching from the other side of the door.
This time, his step is slower and careful, like approaching something fragile. Something that is already broken.
Someone wounded.
You don’t move toward him. You don’t even spare him a look. You just cry, quietly, as now it feels empty where the bond used to be. You can’t feel him.
You can only feel pain.
“Y/N…”
“...I want to leave.”
You wipe your nose, the blood still fresh and wet. You lean on the door for support, still trying to hold yourself up despite the urge to just collapse. Heeseung has to force restraint on himself, holding himself back from running to you. He searches your face, trying to catch your eyes, terrified beyond reason.
The silence is deafening.
At last, you lift your gaze, misty eyes meeting misty eyes.
“I ended it.” Your voice, used to be soft and warm, is now cold. Heeseung feels his lungs stop functioning.
“There’s nothing between us anymore.”
And that’s when it hits him brutally.
Heeseung didn’t just push you away.
He’s lost you.
sorry for the cliffhanger! part 2 coming soon 🔜
dividers from: @cursed-carmine 🤎
perm taglist: @kristynaaah @seungiesdoll
fic taglist: @twocupsofsuga @rayofsunshineeee @all4moi @cutehoons02 @barbiecuedotcom @vmpiricou @kitteaasstuff @sosocide @lhspeachie @sooooobean @bingka @yenienha
