📁 2026.works. ╰ 📂 JAKE : SMAU — best friend’s boyfriend!jake cheating on her with you (part13)
﹕𝜗𝜚﹕ NOTES : finally part 13 of @jaeyunsbabygirl i’m sooo sorry for the time im taking with the updates… 🫠🫠 im getting less time these days but hopefully next update wont take two weeks to be uploaded lol.. hope you’ll like it!! alsooo you finally have an idea of what hee did.. but it’s not detailed yet soo i will be looking forward to your reactions
synopsis : living next door to lee heeseung has always been a nightmare loud, cocky, and impossible to ignore until one reckless night at a party leaves you waking up in his bed and running before it can mean anything you try to forget it ever happened, until two lines change everything, and suddenly the one person you can’t stand is the one you can’t escape.
pairing : basketball captain heeseung x neighbourf!reader
trope : accidental pregnancy + forced proximity
word count : 30.3k
warnings : blowjob semi public ?? , fingering, breast play, sex during pregnancy missionary, cowgirl, against the wall, abortion / termination discussions, anxiety, panic attacks, crying, self-doubt, identity crisis, fear of the future, toxic family dynamics, threats, pregnancy symptoms mentioned nausea, vomiting, fatigue, dizziness, mood swings, heightened libido/sexual needs, and body changes
🗯️ JO's NOTES < 🐻❄️ 3 ! : and here it is the long awaited part two, have fun reading >.< also listen to the playlist while reading
“and you didn’t bother telling me?”You looked up at him through tear filled eyes, still crying softly.“I I thought it was better this way,” you whispered, voice breaking. “You don’t have to be involved. I didn’t want to ruin your life or your future with the team or anything. I was going to handle it alone.”
Heeseung ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. The congee he had cooked for you was still sitting forgotten on the kitchen counter, its smell now making you look even sicker. He set the pregnancy test down on the sink counter carefully, as if it might break.He didn’t know what to feel.
Part of him was angry that you had planned to go through this without saying a single word to him. Another part understood your fear he knew how much you hated him, how hard you had tried to pretend that night never happened. But the hurt lingered.
The realization that you were carrying his child and had already decided to end it without giving him any say it stung more than he expected.He crouched down slowly so he was closer to your eye level, though he kept some distance.“You were just going to do it and never tell me?” he asked, voice quieter now, but still carrying that edge of pain. “That’s my kid too, you know.”You didn’t answer. You just cried harder, curling in on yourself.
Heeseung stayed there on the bathroom floor with you, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you. The silence between you was heavy, filled with everything neither of you had said since that night.For the first time since he found the test, he didn’t know what to do next.
Heeseung remained crouched on the cold bathroom floor, the pregnancy test long forgotten somewhere . The two red lines seemed to burn into his vision no matter how many times he blinked. The weight of what they meant pressed down on him heavily, making it hard to breathe normally.
You were sitting right in front of him, knees drawn up to your chest, face buried in your arms as quiet sobs continued to shake your shoulders. Your breathing was ragged, broken by hiccups, and your entire body looked small and fragile under the harsh bathroom light.Heeseung swallowed the lump in his throat. He set the test gently on the edge of the sink, then slowly shifted closer until he was sitting cross legged on the floor beside you.His voice came out quieter than he had ever spoken to you before.
“I support your decision,” he said carefully, choosing every word with caution. “If you really want to end this, then I support it. I won’t fight you on it. But I want you to think again, okay? Don’t make the choice right now while you’re scared and exhausted. Just give yourself a little time to be sure.”You lifted your head slowly. Your eyes were red and swollen, tears still streaming freely down your cheeks. Your voice cracked when you finally spoke.
“I don’t know if I can take the responsibility of a child,” you whispered, the words trembling. “I’m still in school my capstone project is due soon, I have exhibitions I want to curate one day I can’t do this. I’m not ready for any of it. I never asked for this. I never wanted this to happen.”
The raw fear and despair in your voice hit Heeseung harder than he expected. He watched as another wave of tears spilled over, and something inside his chest twisted painfully.Without thinking, he opened his arms.“Come here,” he murmured. You hesitated for only a second before you leaned forward and collapsed against him. The moment his arms wrapped around you, you broke completely. Heavy, gut wrenching sobs tore out of your throat as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, hands clutching desperately at the front of his hoodie.
Heeseung held you tightly, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other rubbed slow, soothing circles along your spine. He could feel every shudder that ran through your body, every shaky inhale against his shoulder. Your tears soaked through the fabric of his hoodie, warm and wet, but he didn’t pull away even for a second.
This wasn’t the Heeseung who loved teasing you in the hallway.Right now, he was just a boy holding a girl who was falling apart in his arms the same girl who had spent months hating him, and the same girl who was now carrying his child.
“I’ll book the appointment,” he whispered against your hair, his voice low and steady despite the storm of emotions inside him. “I’ll find a good clinic and take you there myself, okay? I’ll be right there with you the entire time in the waiting room, during the consultation, whatever you need. You aren’t alone in this. I promise you that.”
You cried even harder at his words, your fingers tightening in his hoodie as if he was the only thing keeping you grounded. Your sobs echoed softly in the small bathroom, raw and heartbreaking.Heeseung continued holding you, rocking you ever so slightly as he rubbed your back. He pressed his cheek gently against the top of your head, breathing in the faint scent of your shampoo mixed with the salt of your tears.
“I know you’re scared,” he murmured. “I’m scared too. But we’ll figure this out whatever you decide you don’t have to carry it by yourself anymore.”You stayed like that for a long time curled against his chest on the bathroom floor, his arms wrapped securely around you. Your crying gradually slowed into quiet, exhausted sniffles, but you didn’t pull away. For the first time since that reckless night, the wall between the two of you didn’t feel like a barrier anymore.It felt like something you could both lean on.
Heeseung didn’t rush you. He simply held you, letting you cry until your body grew heavy with exhaustion against him. His hand never stopped its gentle motion on your back, offering the only comfort he knew how to give right now.In that quiet, heavy moment, Heeseung wasn’t the campus king or the arrogant basketball captain. He was just Heeseung and for the first time, you allowed yourself to lean on him completely.
The next few days passed in a strange, heavy blur. After that night on your bathroom floor, something between you and Heeseung had quietly shifted. You had cried yourself exhausted in his arms, and he had stayed holding you without any cocky remarks or teasing. When your sobs finally slowed, he helped you back to bed, made sure you drank some water, and only left after you fell asleep.The following morning, he texted you.
Heeseung : Appointment booked. 7th September, 4:00 PM at the women’s health clinic downtown. I’ll drive you there
You stared at the message for a long time, fingers hovering over the keyboard. You wanted to tell him not to bother. That you could handle it alone. But you were too drained, too scared, and too nauseous to argue. So you simply replied
You : okay
The week leading up to the appointment was one of the hardest you had ever experienced.Your symptoms got significantly worse.The nausea was almost constant now. You threw up multiple times a day sometimes so violently that your throat burned afterward. Smells were unbearable even walking past the campus bakery made you gag. The fatigue was bone deep. You fell asleep in lectures twice, and once you had to excuse yourself from a group meeting because the dizziness became too strong.
Your breasts were painfully tender, and you felt emotionally fragile crying over small things like a sad song or a missed bus.Yunjin and Soobin were growing more suspicious.“Babe, you’ve lost weight,” Yunjin said one afternoon, frowning as she looked at you. “And you look exhausted. This isn’t just capstone stress. Tell us what’s really going on.”
Soobin nodded, his usual soft eyes filled with worry. “If you’re sick, we can help. You don’t have to keep saying you’re ‘fine’ when you clearly aren’t.”You forced a tired smile and gave them the same answer you’d been repeating all week.“I’m alright really just a lot on my plate right now. I’ll feel better soon.”They didn’t fully believe you, but they stopped pushing after a while. Still, you could feel their concerned glances every time you excused yourself to the bathroom or declined food.Through all of it, Heeseung showed a side of himself you had never seen before.He texted you every day.
Heeseung : Did you eat anything today?
Heeseung : How are you feeling this morning?
Heeseung : I’m heading to practice. Text me if the nausea gets bad
You had told him multiple times not to worry.
You : You don’t have to do this im fine
You : Please stop checking on me
But Heeseung ignored your protests completely. Every morning, he waited outside your door to walk with you to the university. When you told him it wasn’t necessary, he simply replied, “I’m going the same way anyway,” and continued doing it. In the evenings, he offered to pick you up from the library if you stayed late. You refused most of the time, but on two occasions when the dizziness was especially bad, you quietly accepted.
He also started cooking for you.He would knock on your door in the evenings with containers of simple, gentle food plain rice porridge with ginger, mild chicken soup, steamed vegetables, and light broths that didn’t trigger your nausea. At first, you felt awkward accepting them, but the meals were the only things you could keep down without throwing up immediately afterward.One night, after he brought over a bowl of warm congee, you finally muttered a quiet “Thank you” while sitting at your desk.Heeseung just shrugged, leaning against your doorway.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly. “Just eat.”You watched him leave and felt a confusing swirl of emotions gratitude, guilt, anxiety, and something warmer you didn’t want to name. This was not the loud, cocky Heeseung you had spent months hating. This version was quiet, patient, and surprisingly caring. It made everything feel even more complicated.As the 7th of September drew closer, your anxiety skyrocketed.You kept having second thoughts.
What if I’m making a mistake?
What if I regret this later?
What if I can’t go through with it?
You would lie awake at night, hand resting on your still flat stomach, tears silently sliding down your cheeks. The fear and confusion were overwhelming. On the night before the appointment, Heeseung sent you one last text
Heeseung : I’ll pick you up at 3:30 tomorrow. Try to get some rest. I’m here if you need anything
You stared at the message for a long time, heart heavy with emotions you couldn’t even begin to untangle.You were terrified.You were grateful.And you had no idea what you were going to do.
The 7th of September arrived faster than you wanted.
You had decided to skip all your classes that day. The thought of sitting through lectures while pretending everything was normal felt impossible. Instead, you stayed in your apartment, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, heart racing every time you checked the clock. Anxiety sat heavy in your chest like a stone. Your hands wouldn’t stop trembling, and the nausea was especially bad today though you couldn’t tell if it was from pregnancy symptoms or pure terror.
You barely ate. You barely moved. You just sat there, staring into space, wondering if you were really about to go through with this.At exactly 3:30 PM, a soft knock sounded on your door.You jumped slightly, even though you’d been expecting it. Taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened the door.
Heeseung stood there, dressed in a simple black hoodie and grey sweatpants. His hair was still slightly damp, like he’d showered after practice — or maybe he hadn’t gone at all. His expression was calm, but his eyes held a quiet seriousness.“I skipped practice today,” he said simply, as if it was no big deal. “Ready to go?”
You nodded wordlessly, grabbing your bag and stepping out. The walk to his car was silent. The ride to the clinic was even quieter.You sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, but your hands betrayed your nerves. You kept fidgeting twisting your fingers, picking at your nails, clenching and unclenching your fists in your lap. The anxiety was eating you alive.
Heeseung noticed after a few minutes.Without saying anything, he reached into the glove compartment, pulled out a small star shaped squishy toy, and held it out to you.“Here,” he said gently. “Squeeze this instead of hurting your hands.”You looked at the soft, pastel yellow star for a second before slowly taking it from him. It was surprisingly soft and satisfying to press. You mumbled a quiet, “Thank you,” barely audible, then started squeezing it rhythmically in your lap.
The small gesture made your throat feel tight.
For a while, the car was silent again, only the low hum of the engine filling the space. Then Heeseung spoke, keeping his voice soft and casual, clearly trying to distract you.“How are you feeling today?” he asked.
You shrugged. “Nauseous tired scared.”He nodded, eyes fixed on the road. “That’s understandable. You don’t have to be strong right now, you know. It’s okay to be scared.”
You squeezed the star toy harder. After a moment, you asked quietly, “Did you really skip practice for this?”“Yeah,” he answered without hesitation. “Coach wasn’t happy, but I told him it was important. He’ll get over it.”
You didn’t know what to say to that. So you stayed quiet. Heeseung didn’t push. Instead, he continued with light, careful small talk asking about your capstone project, telling you a harmless story about Beomgyu messing up a drill during practice yesterday, even mentioning how the weather was supposed to cool down next week. His voice stayed steady and low, never teasing, never cocky just there.
Before you knew it, the car slowed down.
You blinked and looked up. The clinic building stood in front of you modern, discreet, with a small sign that made your stomach drop. You hadn’t even realized how fast the drive had gone.Heeseung parked the car smoothly and turned off the engine. For a moment, neither of you moved. The silence returned, heavier this time.You kept squeezing the star toy, knuckles turning white.
Heeseung turned to look at you, his expression gentle but serious.“We’re here,” he said softly. “Whenever you’re ready I’ll go in with you. Or I can wait in the car. Whatever you want.”Your heart was pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. The reality of why you were here hit you all over again. Tears pricked at your eyes, but you forced them back.You whispered, almost to yourself “I don’t know if I can do this”
Heeseung didn’t reply right away. He simply reached over and gently placed his hand on top of yours, the one still squeezing the star toy grounding you for a moment.“You don’t have to decide everything right now,” he said. “Let’s just go inside first. One step at a time.”You nodded shakily, still clutching the squishy star like a lifeline.The appointment was finally here.
And you had no idea what you were going to do.You and Heeseung walked into the clinic together.
The moment the automatic doors slid open, a wave of cool, sterile air hit you. Your heart was hammering so hard you felt dizzy. Heeseung stayed close beside you, not touching you, but near enough that you could feel his presence like a quiet anchor.The waiting room was brighter and softer than you expected. Soft beige walls, comfortable chairs, and gentle lighting. But what really hit you were the other women.
Several pregnant women were sitting around the room. One was gently rubbing her rounded belly while smiling down at her phone. Another was showing ultrasound pictures to the woman beside her, both of them laughing softly with pure joy on their faces. A third woman, quite far along, was resting her hands protectively over her bump, looking peaceful and content.You froze for a second, taking it all in.
These women looked happy excited ready.
You, on the other hand, felt like you were walking toward something terrifying. Your hand tightened around the star-shaped squishy toy Heeseung had given you in the car, squeezing it hard.Heeseung glanced at you but said nothing. He simply stayed by your side as you both approached the reception desk.
You cleared your throat, voice barely above a whisper.
“Hi… I have an appointment at 4:00. My name is [Your Name].”The receptionist smiled kindly and checked her computer. “Yes, I see you here. Please fill out this short form and have a seat. The doctor will call you shortly.”You quickly filled out the paperwork with shaky hands while Heeseung waited beside you. Once you handed it back, the receptionist nodded politely.“You can wait over there. It won’t be long.”
You both moved to two empty seats in the corner. The moment you sat down, your leg started bouncing anxiously. You kept squeezing the star squishy toy over and over, the soft pressure somehow helping you stay grounded. Heeseung sat quietly next to you, elbows resting on his knees, saying nothing but staying close.The silence between you two was heavy but not uncomfortable.
Every few seconds, your eyes would drift back to the pregnant women around the room. One of them laughed softly as she showed her partner an ultrasound photo. Another woman caressed her belly lovingly while reading a pregnancy magazine.
You felt a sharp pang in your chest.They look so sure so happy.You, on the other hand, felt nothing but fear and confusion.
Your hands were trembling again. You squeezed the star toy even harder.Heeseung noticed. He leaned slightly closer, voice low so only you could hear.
“You’re doing okay,” he murmured. “Just breathe.”
You didn’t reply. You just kept squeezing the toy.
A few minutes later, a door opened and a nurse stepped out.“[Your Full Name]?”You stood up on unsteady legs. Heeseung rose with you.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” he asked quietly.You hesitated for a second, then gave a small nod. You didn’t think you could do this completely alone.The nurse led both of you down a short hallway and into a clean, warmly lit consultation room. A woman in her mid-forties with kind eyes and a gentle smile stood up from behind the desk as you entered.
“Hello,” she said warmly, extending her hand. “I’m Dr. Kim. It’s nice to meet you.”You shook her hand weakly. “Hi I’m [Your Name].”
Dr. Kim’s gaze shifted to Heeseung with the same kind expression. “And you are…?”“Heeseung,” he answered. “I’m here with her.”The doctor nodded understandingly, not pressing for more details. She gestured for both of you to sit down on the chairs in front of her desk.
Once you were seated, Dr. Kim folded her hands on the desk and looked at you with gentle patience.
“So, tell me what brings you here today,” she said softly. “Take your time. There’s no rush.”You clutched the star squishy toy tightly in your lap, staring down at it. Your throat felt tight, and your eyes were already burning with unshed tears.You opened your mouth, but it took a few seconds before any words came out.
“I… I took a pregnancy test last week,” you whispered. “It was positive. I’m… I think I want to terminate it.”
Dr. Kim nodded calmly, her expression full of understanding and zero judgment.“I see,” she said gently. “Thank you for trusting me with that. We can talk about all your options today. First, let me ask how have you been feeling physically? Any symptoms?”
You took a shaky breath and started listing them the constant nausea, vomiting, fatigue, dizziness, tender breasts. Dr. Kim listened carefully, occasionally nodding and writing notes.
Heeseung sat silently beside you the entire time, a quiet but steady presence.Dr. Kim’s voice was calm and professional, yet warm in a way that felt intentionally soothing. She leaned forward slightly on her desk, folding her hands as she looked at you with gentle eyes.
“Since you mentioned your symptoms and the positive test, I’d like to perform a quick ultrasound today. This is just to confirm the pregnancy, see how far along you are, and check for a heartbeat. It’s completely external no discomfort. We’ll use this wand on your lower abdomen. Would that be alright with you?”
You nodded slowly, your throat too tight to speak properly. Heeseung stayed quiet beside you, but you felt him shift slightly closer in his chair.
Dr. Kim led you behind a pale blue privacy curtain to the exam bed. The paper sheet crinkled loudly under you as you lay down. She asked you to lift your shirt just below your ribs. The gel she squeezed onto your skin was shockingly cold, making you flinch.“Sorry about that,” she said with a small smile. “It’ll warm up soon.”
She placed the ultrasound wand on your lower belly and began moving it slowly, pressing gently. The screen beside the bed flickered to life with gray, blurry images. Dr. Kim adjusted the angle a few times, her eyes focused.You stared at the monitor, barely breathing.After a few moments of silence, Dr. Kim’s expression softened.“Here we are,” she said gently. “This is the gestational sac and right in the center do you see that little flicker?”
She pointed to a tiny, rhythmic pulsing on the screen.
“That’s the baby’s heartbeat.”The moment you saw it that small, steady flicker of life something inside your chest cracked wide open. Your vision blurred instantly as hot tears flooded your eyes. A choked sob escaped your throat before you could stop it. The tears spilled over, running down the sides of your face and into your hair.
“I can’t do this” you whispered, voice trembling. Then louder, more broken, “I can’t do this I can’t”
Dr. Kim immediately lifted the wand and set it aside. The screen went dark.Heeseung was already moving. He stood up so quickly his chair scraped against the floor. In one smooth motion, he was at your side, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you up into a tight embrace. You buried your face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably as your hands clutched the front of his hoodie.
“Hey shh, it’s okay,” he murmured against your hair, his voice thick. One of his hands rubbed slow, steady circles on your back while the other cradled the back of your head. “Breathe. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”
You shook your head against him, crying harder.
“I want the baby ” you sobbed, the words spilling out between shaky breaths. “I thought I could do it but I can’t… I can’t get rid of it. That’s my baby. I can’t do this to my baby”
Heeseung held you even tighter. You felt his body tremble slightly, and when you pulled back just enough to look at him, you saw tears streaming silently down his own cheeks. His eyes were red, his jaw tight, but he didn’t try to hide it.“You don’t have to force yourself to do this,” he whispered, voice cracking. He gently wiped some of your tears away with his thumb. “Not to yourself and not to the baby. I’m here. I’m right here, okay? You’re not doing this alone.”
Fresh sobs wracked your body. Heeseung rested his forehead against yours, his own tears falling onto your shirt as he continued speaking, soft and raw.
“We will have this baby,” he said, the words heavy with emotion. “I will do everything and anything for you and the baby. I promise. Whatever you need I’ll be there. Every appointment, every late night, every single thing. You’re not alone anymore. I’ve got you both of you.”
You cried into his shoulder, overwhelmed by fear, guilt, relief, and a thousand other emotions you couldn’t name. Heeseung held you through all of it, rocking you gently, his arms strong and steady around you even as his own tears continued to fall.Dr. Kim stayed respectfully quiet for a long moment, giving you both space. When your crying finally quieted into soft sniffles, she spoke gently.
“There’s no rush to decide anything today. If you’d like to continue with the pregnancy, we can start discussing prenatal care, vitamins, and scheduling your next scans. You can take all the time you need.”
You stayed pressed against Heeseung’s chest, exhausted but no longer feeling completely alone.
For the first time since you saw those two pink lines, the future felt a little less terrifying.Dr. Kim gave you both a moment to collect yourselves after your breakdown. She handed you a tissue box and waited patiently until your sobs quieted into soft sniffles. Heeseung never let go of you again one arm stayed wrapped around your shoulders, his thumb gently brushing your arm in soothing strokes. When you finally calmed down enough to sit up properly, Dr. Kim spoke in a gentle, professional tone. “Since you’ve decided to continue with the pregnancy, let me walk you through what comes next.”
She turned the monitor slightly so both of you could see it better and pointed at the image again.“You’re approximately six weeks along. Everything looks good so far the heartbeat is strong. We’ll schedule a more detailed scan around 8 to 10 weeks to check development. For now, I’m going to prescribe prenatal vitamins. You need to start taking them daily they’re very important for the baby’s neural development.”
She slid a prescription paper across the desk.
“Folic acid is especially crucial in the first trimester. I’ll also recommend a gentle prenatal multivitamin. Try to eat small, frequent meals if the nausea is bad. Ginger tea, crackers, and hydration will help. Avoid raw fish, unpasteurized dairy, and limit caffeine.”Dr. Kim looked at both of you warmly.“I know this is a big adjustment. If you experience severe vomiting, dizziness, or bleeding, come back immediately or go to the ER. I’d like to see you again in two weeks for a follow up. Do you have any questions?”
You shook your head, still overwhelmed. Heeseung, however, spoke up for the first time since your emotional outburst.“What should she avoid? Like food, activities, anything?” His voice was steady but serious.Dr. Kim answered patiently, explaining everything in detail while Heeseung listened carefully, nodding and even pulling out his phone to take notes. You watched him quietly, still surprised by how seriously he was taking all of this.
Before you left, Dr. Kim printed out a small ultrasound picture and handed it to you with a kind smile.
“Here’s your baby’s first picture. Congratulations.”
You took the small black and white image with trembling fingers. The tiny bean shaped spot with that flickering heartbeat was now printed in your hand. You stared at it, throat tight with emotion.
Heeseung helped you stand up. His hand stayed gently on your lower back as you both thanked Dr. Kim and left the room.
The car ride home was quiet. You clutched the ultrasound picture tightly in your lap, staring down at it the entire time. Heeseung drove carefully, one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally flexing like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy. Now that you had decided to keep the baby, the reality of the situation began sinking in for both of you.
Heeseung was going to be a permanent part of your life forever. No more avoiding him in the hallway. No more pretending that night never happened. This baby would tie the two of you together whether you liked it or not. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. His jaw was tense, eyes focused on the road, but there was something softer in his expression something you had never seen before.
What you didn’t know was how deeply this was already affecting him.Heeseung’s heart felt like it was going to burst. From the moment he saw that tiny heartbeat on the screen, something inside him had shifted irreversibly. This baby was his baby it already meant more to him than he could put into words. Despite all the pressure from his father, despite his complicated life and uncertain future in basketball, the thought of this child filled him with a fierce, protective kind of love he had never experienced before.
He already loved this baby.More than he imagined was possible.The car finally pulled into the apartment building parking lot. Heeseung turned off the engine but didn’t move to get out. The silence stretched for a few more seconds.Then he spoke, voice low and serious.“We need to sit down and talk when we get back.”You looked at him, still clutching the ultrasound picture. Your voice came out small.“…Okay.”
Heeseung nodded once, then got out of the car and walked around to open your door. He stayed close as you both walked up to your floor, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you.For the first time, the two of you were about to have a real conversation.And the beginning of whatever this new future was going to look like.“Let’s talk at your place,” he said softly. “If that’s okay with you.”
You nodded. Your legs felt heavy as you both walked up to your apartment. The ultrasound picture was still clutched tightly in your hand. Once inside, you kicked off your shoes and sat down on the couch, exhausted. Heeseung closed the door gently behind him and sat on the armchair directly across from you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.For a few seconds, the silence was thick.
Then, without any warning or buildup, Heeseung looked you straight in the eyes and said “Marry me.”
You stared at him, completely frozen. The words didn’t register at first. When they finally did, a shocked, disbelieving laugh escaped your lips.
“…What?” You let out another nervous laugh, shaking your head. “Heeseung, are you serious right now?”He didn’t smile. His expression remained dead serious, almost solemn. “I’m serious,” he repeated. “Marry me.”
You blinked rapidly, still trying to process what he had just said. Your heart was racing, confusion and shock swirling inside your chest. “Why would you want to marry me?” you asked, voice rising with disbelief. “Heeseung we don’t even like each other. We’ve spent the last few months hating each other. You used to call me Miss Morals and enjoy annoying the hell out of me. Why are you saying this?”
Heeseung didn’t look away. His gaze stayed steady on yours.“Because you’re carrying my child,” he answered plainly. “This baby is mine too. I don’t want to be a part time dad. I want to be there every single day. So marry me.”You let out a shaky breath and shook your head, tears already pricking at your eyes again.
“That isn’t how it works, Heeseung,” you said, voice cracking. “Marriage isn’t something you do just because there’s a baby. It requires trust and love and actually knowing the other person. We don’t have any of that. We don’t even know each other. Not really. All we’ve ever done is argue and avoid one another.”
Something painful flashed across Heeseung’s face a deep, raw hurt that made his eyes darken and his jaw tighten. He looked away for a second, swallowing hard, before forcing himself to meet your eyes again.
“We can make it work if we try,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “People build marriages on less. We can learn to get along. For the baby’s sake.”You felt your chest tighten. The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over.“What if I haven’t met my person yet?” you whispered, voice trembling. “What if I meet the person I’m actually meant to be with while we’re married? What if you do? I don’t want to be bound to you, Heeseung. Not like this. Not when we started all of this hating each other.”
The moment the words left your mouth, you saw it again that same flash of hurt, deeper this time. Heeseung’s shoulders dropped slightly. He looked genuinely wounded, like your rejection had cut him far more than you expected.He stayed silent for a long moment, staring at the floor. Then he let out a slow, tired breath.“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “I understand.”
You frowned, confused by the clear pain on his face. You didn’t understand why he looked so hurt. You two had spent months being enemies. He used to thrive on annoying you. So why did your refusal to marry him seem to affect him this badly?Heeseung stood up slowly, running a hand through his hair.“I should go,” he muttered. “You need rest.”He paused at the door for a second, back facing you.
“I’m still going to be here,” he added without turning around. “For the baby. Whether we get married or not I’m not going anywhere.”Then he left, closing the door softly behind him.You stayed seated on the couch, ultrasound picture still in your lap, feeling more lost and confused than ever before.The silence after Heeseung left the room didn’t last long. Barely ten minutes later, there was a soft knock on your door again. When you opened it, he was standing there, looking exhausted but determined.
“Can I come back in?” he asked quietly.You nodded and stepped aside.Heeseung walked in and sat on the same armchair as before. You returned to the couch, pulling your knees up to your chest. The ultrasound picture was still lying on the coffee table between you two.Heeseung rubbed his face with both hands before speaking.“Look even if we’re not getting married right now,” he said slowly, “we need to at least pretend to date, right? For the baby. So people don’t ask too many questions. So it doesn’t look like some random hookup.”
You thought about it for a moment, then gave a small, tired nod.“Yeah that makes sense.”Heeseung looked relieved. “Okay good.”He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “And about money I’m going to take care of all the expenses. Doctor visits, vitamins, food, whatever you need yours too you don’t have to worry about that.”You immediately frowned and sat up straighter.“I can take care of myself, Heeseung. I’ve been doing it this whole time.”
“I know you can,” he said gently but firmly. “But you’re carrying my child. Let me do this please I want to.”
You opened your mouth to argue again, but the exhaustion in your body and the look in his eyes made you close it. You eventually gave a small, reluctant nod.“…Fine.”Heeseung looked a little more relaxed after that. Then you asked the question that had been weighing on you.
“Are we going to tell everyone that I’m pregnant?”
Heeseung shook his head slowly.“It’s totally up to you,” he said. “You decide who you want to tell and when. I won’t say anything to anyone unless you’re okay with it.”You thought about it for a while, fingers tracing the edge of the ultrasound picture.“Soobin and Yunjin,” you said quietly. “I want to tell them. They’ve been really worried about me. And you can tell your close friends. Beomgyu, Jake, Jay and your coach, I suppose. They’ll probably notice eventually anyway.”
Heeseung nodded. “That sounds fair.”You hesitated, then continued.“What about our parents? We should let them know, right?”Heeseung’s expression changed slightly. He looked more tense.“Are your parents going to be okay with this?” he asked carefully.You gave a small, tired smile.“Yeah I think so. My mom and dad have always supported me no matter what. They might be shocked at first, but once they hear they’re getting a grandbaby they’ll probably be over the moon. They’ve always wanted grandchildren.”
Heeseung smiled faintly at that, but it didn’t reach his eyes. When you looked at him expectantly, he let out a long breath and leaned back in the chair.
“I don’t know how mine will react,” he admitted, voice quieter. “My dad he’s complicated. If he finds out I got someone pregnant while I’m still trying to make it to the NBA” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”
You watched him carefully. For the first time, you saw the weight he was carrying the pressure, the expectations, the fear of disappointing his family.
The conversation settled into a heavy but honest silence. So many things were still uncertain. Your future, your relationship (or lack of one), how you were going to navigate this together.But at least now, you were talking. After the heavy conversation, Heeseung stood up slowly, running a hand through his hair. The air in your apartment felt thick with everything that had just been said and everything that still remained unsaid.
He looked at you for a long moment, eyes soft but tired.“I should go,” he said quietly. “You need to rest. It’s been a really long day.”You nodded, too drained to argue. Heeseung walked toward the door, then paused with his hand on the handle. “Take care of yourself, okay?” he said, glancing back at you. His voice was gentle, almost hesitant. “Eat something light if you can drink water text me if the nausea gets bad or if you need anything. I’m right next door.”
You gave him a small, tired nod. “Yeah I will.”He lingered for another second, like he wanted to say more, but eventually just offered a faint smile and left, closing the door softly behind him.The moment the lock clicked, the silence in your apartment felt suffocating.You were alone.You curled up on the couch, pulling your knees to your chest and hugging them tightly. The ultrasound picture was still on the coffee table, staring back at you. You reached out and picked it up, tracing the tiny bean-shaped spot with your fingertip.
Tears blurred your vision again.Now came the hardest part figuring out how to tell the people you loved.
Your mind immediately went to your parents. Strangely, that felt almost easy.Your mom and dad had always been incredibly supportive. They had raised you to be independent, but they’d also made it clear that no matter what happened in life mistakes, heartbreaks, unexpected turns they would stand by you. You could already imagine your mom’s initial shock turning into tears of joy once she processed that she was going to be a grandmother.
Your dad would probably go quiet at first, then start asking a million practical questions while secretly being over the moon.Telling them felt scary, but safe. You knew they would love this baby. They would support you no matter what path you chose.But Yunjin and Soobin?That felt terrifying.They were your best friends. They had watched you complain about Heeseung for months. They knew how much you couldn’t stand him. They had seen you avoid him like the plague. How were you supposed to tell them that you had gotten drunk at a party, slept with the neighbor you hated, and were now keeping his baby?
Yunjin would probably scream then cry then demand to know every single detail while spiraling with worry. Soobin he would be quiet at first, shocked, but then his concern would kick in. He would worry about your health, your future, your capstone, your dreams. You hated the idea of disappointing them or making them feel like they had failed to notice how much you were struggling.You buried your face in your knees, letting out a shaky breath.
How do you even start that conversation?Hey guys, remember how I disappeared at Sunghoon’s party? Yeah I slept with Heeseung. And now I’m pregnant.
The thought alone made you want to crawl under the blankets and never come out.You placed a protective hand over your stomach, still flat but no longer feeling empty.
This baby was real now. You had chosen to keep it. And that choice was going to change everything your friendship with Yunjin and Soobin, your relationship (or lack of one) with Heeseung, your entire future.
You stayed curled up on the couch for a long time, ultrasound picture still in your other hand, heart heavy with fear and quiet determination.
Telling your parents felt like something you could survive.Telling your best friends felt like walking into an emotional battlefield.But you knew you couldn’t keep this secret forever. Not from the people who loved you most.
The next morning, you woke up to soft, hesitant knocks on your door.Your eyes fluttered open, still heavy from crying and restless sleep. The ultrasound picture was lying on your pillow beside you you must have fallen asleep clutching it. Your body felt sore, your eyes puffy, and your hair was a complete mess. The nausea was already simmering in your stomach, a cruel reminder that nothing about this was a dream.
The knocking came again gentle, almost careful.You dragged yourself out of bed, wrapped a loose cardigan over your oversized sleep shirt, and padded to the door. When you opened it, Heeseung was standing there.
He looked freshly showered, wearing a simple black hoodie and sweatpants, hair still slightly damp. In his hands was a paper bag and two cups of what smelled like warm tea.The moment he saw you messy hair, swollen eyes, tired face you suddenly became painfully self conscious. You crossed your arms over your chest and tried to smooth your hair with one hand, cheeks heating up.Heeseung’s expression softened.
“I got you breakfast,” he said quietly, lifting the bag a little. “Something light. Ginger tea and plain rice porridge with a bit of egg. Thought it might help with the nausea.” He paused, looking almost nervous. “Can I come in and eat with you?”You hesitated for a second, then nodded.“Yeah okay. Just give me a minute to freshen up.”
Heeseung gave you a small nod and stepped inside as you retreated to the bathroom. You quickly brushed your teeth, splashed cold water on your face, tied your hair into a messy bun, and changed into a loose sweater and comfortable pants. When you came back out, Heeseung had already set everything up on your small dining table.Two bowls of warm porridge, the ginger tea, and even a small side of fresh fruit he must have brought along. He was waiting for you, standing awkwardly by the table.
You sat down across from him. The silence was soft, not uncomfortable.You both started eating slowly. The porridge was gentle on your stomach warm, lightly seasoned, and easy to keep down. For the first time in days, you actually managed a few proper spoonfuls without feeling like you’d throw up immediately.
After a few minutes of quiet eating, Heeseung spoke.
“I can drop you at university every morning,” he said, eyes on his bowl. “I’ll adjust my practice schedule if I need to. But I can’t always promise I’ll be able to pick you up in the evenings because of team practice and meetings. Still I want to take you in the mornings at least.”You looked up at him, spoon paused halfway to your mouth.“You really don’t have to do that, Heeseung. It’s not necessary.”He shook his head gently but firmly.
“It is necessary,” he replied. “You’re carrying my child. Taking care of you and the life growing inside you that’s my responsibility now. Whether we’re together or not.”His words hung in the air between you. There was no cockiness in his tone, no arrogance, just quiet determination. You stared at him for a long moment, a strange mix of emotions swirling in your chest, gratitude, confusion and fear.And something warmer you weren’t ready to name yet.You looked back down at your bowl, stirring the porridge slowly.
“…Thank you,” you whispered.Heeseung gave you a small, almost shy smile the softest you had ever seen from him.“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “Just let me help. Okay?”You nodded, too tired and overwhelmed to argue.For the rest of breakfast, you both ate in relatively comfortable silence. Every now and then Heeseung would glance at you, making sure you were actually eating the quiet felt new different not quite friendly yet.But no longer hostile.
You both finished breakfast in a surprisingly comfortable silence. The porridge had settled well in your stomach, and for the first time in days, you didn’t feel like you needed to run to the bathroom immediately after eating. Heeseung cleared the bowls and cleaned up without being asked, moving around your small kitchen like he was trying not to overstep.
When he was done, he turned to you.“I’ll wait for you downstairs in my car,” he said gently. “Take your time getting ready. No rush.”
You nodded, still a little dazed from everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. Heeseung gave you one last look soft, almost careful before heading out and closing the door quietly behind him. As soon as he left, you hurried to get dressed. You chose something comfortable: an oversized hoodie, loose jeans, and sneakers. You brushed your hair into a simple ponytail and splashed some water on your face, trying to look at least a little presentable. Your hands were still shaking slightly as you grabbed your bag and the ultrasound picture (which you tucked safely into your notebook).
When you stepped outside, Heeseung’s car was waiting right in front of the building. You slid into the passenger seat, and he gave you a small smile before pulling out of the parking lot.The drive to university started off quiet, but Heeseung eventually broke the silence.“So…” he started, glancing at you. “I realized I don’t actually know much about you. Other than the fact that you hate loud music and call me an entitled asshole.”
You let out a soft, surprised laugh despite yourself.
Heeseung’s lips curved into a gentle smirk. “What do you like? Favorite food? Favorite artist? Anything.”
You thought for a moment, squeezing the star shaped squishy toy he had given you yesterday, which was still in your hoodie pocket.
“I like quiet places,” you said. “Museums, art galleries, bookstores with big windows. I love matcha, but lately it makes me nauseous so maybe not right now. I like soft music acoustic stuff and I really love curating imagining how paintings and sculptures would look together in a room. It’s calming.”Heeseung listened attentively, nodding.“What about you?” you asked, surprising yourself by actually being curious. “What do you like when you’re not being loud and annoying?”
He chuckled lightly. “Basketball, obviously. But I also like late night drives. And ramyun the kind that makes your nose run. I’m terrible at drawing, but I like watching you sketch when you’re focused. You get this little crease between your eyebrows.”You glanced at him, cheeks warming. The conversation flowed easier than expected. He asked about your favorite movies, what kind of exhibitions you dreamed of curating one day, and what you hated most about university (early morning lectures and group projects with lazy people).
You teased him lightly about his loud parties, and he admitted that he sometimes turned the music up just to see if you’d come banging on his door.By the time he pulled into the university parking lot, you were both surprised at how easily the conversation had come.But the moment you stepped out of his car, reality hit you like a truck.Everyone was staring.
Students walking by slowed down. A group of girls near the entrance openly gawked. Whispers started almost immediately. You were very aware of how it looked you, leaving Heeseung’s car early in the morning, him leaning over to say something to you before you closed the door.
Your face burned with embarrassment. This was a bad idea a very bad idea.You didn’t even thank him. You just lowered your head, pulled your hood up, and walked away quickly, shoulders hunched, eyes fixed on the ground. You could feel hundreds of eyes on your back as you hurried toward the main building.
Heeseung watched you go, his expression unreadable. He stayed parked for a few extra seconds before driving off to find a spot.
You kept your head down the entire way to your first class, heart racing, already regretting how public this was becoming.The secret was no longer just yours and his.And campus was about to get very interested in the sudden shift between the girl who hated Lee Heeseung and the basketball captain who was now driving her to university.
Your heart was still pounding wildly as you hurried across campus toward the Art History lecture hall. Every few steps, you felt like someone was staring at you. Whispers seemed to follow you like shadows “Was that Heeseung’s car?”, “Did you see them together?”, “I thought she hated him?” making your skin crawl with embarrassment and anxiety.You kept your head down, hood pulled low over your face, walking as fast as your tired legs would allow without breaking into a run.
The ultrasound picture hidden safely inside your notebook felt like it weighed a ton in your bag. By the time you pushed open the door to the lecture hall, your breathing was slightly ragged and a fresh wave of nausea was threatening to rise.Yunjin and Soobin were already in your usual seats middle row, near the window. The moment they saw you approaching, their expressions shifted.Yunjin’s eyes widened dramatically. “Oh my god, what happened to you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or ten ghosts.”
Soobin turned in his seat, his gentle face immediately filling with concern. “Are you okay? You’re really pale.”
You forced a weak, tired smile as you dropped into the empty seat between them, trying your best to look normal even though your hands were still trembling slightly.“I’m fine,” you said, voice quieter than usual. “I was just running late this morning. Rushed here from the other side of campus.”Soobin glanced at his watch, then back at you with a small frown. “We still have like fifteen minutes before class starts though.”
You froze for a split second, heart skipping. Your mind scrambled for an excuse.
“Yeah I know,” you mumbled, quickly pulling out your notebook and flipping through the pages as if you were looking for something important. “I thought I was way later than I actually was. My brain’s been all over the place lately with the capstone deadline.”
Yunjin wasn’t convinced. She leaned closer, studying your face like a detective. “Are you sure that’s it? You’ve been acting weird for weeks now. Disappearing, not replying to texts, looking exhausted every time we see you”
You swallowed hard and kept your eyes fixed on your notes, refusing to meet their worried gazes.“I’m alright, really,” you insisted, forcing another small smile. “Just been super busy and stressed. You know how it is with this project.”Before Yunjin could push further, Soobin spoke up again, his tone soft but clearly concerned.“You didn’t reply to any of our messages yesterday evening or night,” he said. “We were both really worried. Yunjin was about to go knock on your door at midnight.”
Your chest tightened. You had seen the string of worried texts from both of them asking if you were okay, if you needed anything, if something was wrong. You had read them all but couldn’t bring yourself to answer.“I was just really busy,” you repeated, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. “Got caught up with work and forgot to check my phone. Sorry for making you guys worry.”
Yunjin opened her mouth again, clearly ready to interrogate you more, but right at that moment, the professor walked into the lecture hall carrying his usual stack of papers and laptop. The room gradually quieted down as he set up at the front.“Alright, everyone. Let’s dive straight into today’s topic the evolution of museum curation practices in the late 19th century…”You let out a silent breath of relief as the lecture began. You kept your head down, pretending to take diligent notes while your mind continued to spiral.
The ultrasound picture hidden in your bag felt like it was burning a hole through your notebook. Heeseung’s words from last night and this morning kept replaying in your head. The weight of your new reality pressed down on you harder with every passing minute.Yunjin kept throwing concerned glances your way throughout the class. Soobin, ever observant, stayed quiet but you could feel his worried eyes on you from time to time.
You knew you couldn’t keep dodging them forever.
But for now, as the professor’s voice filled the room, you clung to this temporary escape, squeezing the star shaped squishy toy hidden in your hoodie pocket for comfort. The lecture hall felt unusually stuffy today. You tried your best to focus on the professor’s voice as he discussed 19th century museum practices, but your mind kept drifting. Your phone vibrated quietly in your lap for the third time. You discreetly glanced down, hiding the screen from Yunjin and Soobin.
Heeseung : Hey, just checking in. How are you feeling right now? Nausea any better?
You stared at the message for a few seconds, then typed back with slightly shaky fingers.
You : I’m okay still a bit nauseous but it’s manageable
Not even a minute later, another message popped up.
Heeseung : Good. What do you feel like eating for dinner tonight? I’ll make something light that won’t upset your stomach. Maybe porridge again? Or soup?
You bit your lip, thinking. The idea of him cooking for you again felt strangely comforting, even if it also made everything feel more complicated.
You : I’m not sure. Anything is fine, really I don’t have much appetite these days
His reply came quickly, as if he had been waiting.
Heeseung : Alright. I’ll go with mild chicken porridge with ginger and some steamed vegetables on the side. Easy to digest. Let me know if you crave anything specific, okay?
You read the message twice. A small, unconscious smile crept onto your lips without you realizing it. The simple thoughtfulness behind his texts remembering what your body could handle right now felt unexpectedly warm. Your thumb hovered over the screen as you considered how to reply.Yunjin, who had been side eyeing you the entire time, suddenly leaned over and whispered loudly enough for Soobin to hear, “Why are you smiling at your phone like that? You look suspiciously happy for someone who’s been acting like a zombie for weeks.”
You startled and quickly locked your screen, shoving the phone into your bag.“It’s nothing,” you muttered, avoiding both of their curious gazes. “Just a funny meme I saw.”Yunjin raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “A meme? Since when do memes make you smile like you just won the lottery?”Soobin chuckled softly beside you but didn’t push. Still, you could feel both of them watching you more closely for the rest of the lecture.
When the final class of the day finally ended, you packed your things slowly, hoping the crowd in the hallway would thin out. But the moment the three of you stepped out of the lecture hall into the bustling corridor, you knew something was wrong.
Eyes were everywhere.Students who usually walked past without a second glance were now openly staring. A group of girls near the notice board pulled out their phones as you passed. Whispers rippled through the hallway like a wave. Someone even pointed discreetly in your direction.
Yunjin noticed immediately and linked her arm with yours. “Okay, what the hell is going on? Did we suddenly become celebrities overnight?”Soobin moved to your other side, creating a small protective barrier. “It does feel like we’re in one of those high school drama scenes where everyone turns to look at the main characters,” he joked lightly, though his voice held clear concern. “Did you do something scandalous without telling us?”
You kept your head down, cheeks burning with embarrassment. You knew exactly why they were staring. The news of you getting out of Heeseung’s car this morning had clearly spread like wildfire across campus.You didn’t respond to their teasing. You just wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.
Just as you turned the corner toward the main exit, Soobin’s phone buzzed loudly. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his expression changed instantly from amused to shocked.
“Uh… guys?” His voice was unusually serious. “You really need to see this.”He turned the phone toward you and Yunjin.It was a notification from Decelis Confessions the infamous anonymous campus Twitter account that loved stirring drama.The post had already exploded with likes, retweets, and comments in a very short time.
Decelis Confessions : “Plot twist of the semester 😳
Spotted this morning basketball captain Lee Heeseung personally dropping off the girl who has publicly hated him for months. They looked pretty cozy getting out of his car together. What happened to ‘I can’t stand him’? 👀
Picture attached.”
Below the caption was a clear, well timed photo of you stepping out of Heeseung’s car this morning. Your face was visible enough for people to recognize you, even with your hood partially up. The comments were already spiraling out of control
• “Wait… wasn’t she the one who always complained about his parties???”
• “Enemies to lovers speedrun 💀”
• “Heeseung finally got the girl who hated him the most”
• “This is the most interesting thing that’s happened all semester”
Yunjin’s eyes widened dramatically as she read it. “What the actual fuck is this?!”Soobin looked at you with deep concern, his usual calm expression cracking. “Is this real? You came to school with Heeseung today?”You felt your stomach drop violently. The nausea you had managed to keep under control all day came rushing back with full force. Your hands started trembling as you stared at the post, frozen in the middle of the busy hallway while more students walked past, whispering and checking their phones.
The secret was no longer contained itwas public.
And it was spreading faster than you could ever hope to control.The three of you stood frozen in the middle of the busy hallway, Soobin’s phone still held out between you. The Decelis Confessions post glowed brightly on the screen, the photo of you stepping out of Heeseung’s car crystal clear for everyone to see. The comments were flooding in so fast the numbers were climbing by the second.Yunjin’s mouth fell open. “This is you this is literally you this morning.” Soobin looked at you with wide, concerned eyes. “You came with Heeseung today?”
You felt your face burn with embarrassment. The nausea that had been simmering all day surged violently, and you had to swallow hard to keep it down. Your hands were trembling as you clutched the strap of your bag.You forced yourself to speak, voice shaky but trying to sound casual.“He just dropped me because I was running late this morning,” you said quickly, repeating the excuse you had given them earlier. “That’s all. I told you guys I was in a rush.”
Yunjin wasn’t convinced. She crossed her arms, staring at you intensely. “Running late? Since when does Lee Heeseung play taxi for someone he supposedly hates?”
You shifted uncomfortably on your feet, avoiding their gazes. The whispers around you were getting louder. More people were stopping to look.“I… I have something to tell you guys,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely audible over the hallway noise. “But not right now. I’ll tell you when the time is right. I promise.”Yunjin’s eyes narrowed. She stepped closer, refusing to let you dodge this.“No way you can’t drop a bomb like that and then say ‘later.’ What is going on? First you disappear at the party, then you look like death for two weeks, now you’re getting out of Heeseung’s car like it’s normal? Spill it.”
Soobin placed a gentle hand on Yunjin’s arm, trying to calm her down.“Yunjin,” he said softly but firmly, “she said she’ll tell us when she’s ready. We should respect that. She’s clearly going through something.”
Yunjin huffed, clearly frustrated, but she backed off a little. Still, she couldn’t resist one last sarcastic jab.
“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Don’t tell me you’re secretly dating Heeseung now and you’re pregnant with his child or something.”She laughed at her own ridiculous joke.You, however, froze.
The words hit way too close to home. Your stomach twisted violently. For a split second, you felt like the entire hallway was spinning. You let out an awkward, strained laugh too loud, too forced trying desperately to play it off.“Haha… yeah, right,” you managed, the sound hollow even to your own ears. “As if.”Yunjin raised an eyebrow at your weird reaction but eventually shrugged it off, linking her arm with yours again as the three of you continued walking.
“Whatever but seriously, you better tell us soon. We’re worried about you.”Soobin gave you a small, reassuring smile, though the concern in his eyes didn’t fade. “Whenever you’re ready. No pressure.”You nodded weakly, forcing another smile as you walked with them toward the exit. Inside, your heart was pounding so hard you thought it might burst. The ultrasound picture hidden in your bag suddenly felt ten times heavier.
Yunjin’s sarcastic joke had been way too accurate.
And you had no idea how much longer you could keep pretending everything was fine.The rest of your classes dragged on painfully.You kept your hood pulled up the entire day, even indoors, trying to hide your face as much as possible. It didn’t help. Everywhere you went walking through the corridors, sitting in the library during break, or moving between lecture halls people stared some whispered some openly pointed a few girls even took subtle photos as you passed by.You felt incredibly small.
Like you had shrunk to the size of an ant under a microscope. Every glance made your shoulders curl inward. Every whisper made your stomach twist with nausea and anxiety. You kept your head down, eyes fixed on the floor or your notebook, clutching the star-shaped squishy toy Heeseung had given you like a lifeline. You barely spoke in group discussions. You barely ate during lunch, pushing the food around your plate while Yunjin and Soobin exchanged worried glances.Soobin noticed everything.He stayed close to you the whole day, walking on the side where more people could see him, subtly shielding you from the worst of the stares. During breaks, he tried his best to lighten the mood with his usual gentle humor.
At one point, while you were sitting on a bench between classes, he nudged your shoulder lightly.
“You know,” he said softly, “if everyone’s going to stare anyway, we should give them something worth staring at. Maybe start doing dramatic poses every time someone looks?”You let out a small, tired laugh despite yourself. Soobin smiled, pleased that he managed to get even that out of you.He kept it up throughout the day sharing funny memes, telling light stories about his roommate’s failed cooking attempts, and reminding you of that time the three of you got lost during a group project trip last semester.
His quiet, steady presence helped more than he probably realized.When the final class ended, Soobin didn’t even ask he simply fell into step beside you.
“I’ll drop you back to your apartment,” he said gently. “No arguments.”You were too drained to protest. The walk to your building was quiet, but Soobin made sure to fill the silence with easy conversation, never pushing you to talk about what was really going on.
When you finally reached your door, you turned to him with a small, grateful smile.“Thank you, Soobin. For today and for walking me back.”
He gave you that soft, warm smile of his. “Anytime. You know that, right? If you need to talk I’m here.”
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I know. Thank you.”Soobin waited until you were safely inside before waving goodbye and heading off.The moment the door closed behind you, you leaned against it, letting out a long, exhausted breath. Your phone buzzed in your pocket.
Heeseung : Did you reach home safely?
You replied quickly.
You : Yes Soobin dropped me back
There was a slightly longer pause than usual before his next message came in.
Heeseung : Oh good that he was there. I’ll bring dinner over later if you want
You stared at the message. It was polite. Normal, even. But something about the “Oh.” and the brief delay felt off. Like a tiny flicker of something unspoken.You didn’t reply right away. You just slid down to the floor, still wearing your hoodie with the hood up, feeling the weight of the day crash over you.
The stares the whispers the rumors spreading like wildfire.Everything was changing so fast.You pulled out the ultrasound picture again and stared at the tiny flicker of a heartbeat, hand resting gently on your stomach.This little life inside you was already turning your world upside down.And now, even Heeseung’s messages carried a quiet weight you couldn’t quite name.
That evening, Heeseung showed up at your door right on time with dinner.He carried a paper bag filled with carefully prepared containers mild chicken porridge with ginger, steamed vegetables, and some fresh fruit slices. Nothing strong smelling. Nothing that would trigger your nausea. He handed it over with a quiet “Eat slowly,” waited until you took a few spoonfuls in front of him, and then left without lingering too long.
From that point on, the next month slowly settled into a new, surprisingly comfortable rhythm between the two of you.
Heeseung became a constant, quiet presence in your life. He was nothing like the loud, arrogant neighbor you had spent months disliking. He was attentive in ways that quietly surprised you. Some mornings, he would knock softly on your door with breakfast already packed simple things like rice porridge or toast with a little honey that your stomach could handle. Other times, he would show up in the afternoon with electrolyte drinks and medicine when he noticed you hadn’t left your apartment all day. On particularly bad nausea days, he would bring over warm ginger tea without you even asking.
He started staying over more often too. Sometimes he would sleep on your couch after bringing dinner, especially on nights when your anxiety kept you awake or the nausea was relentless. You would wake up to find him already making plain toast in your kitchen or folding the blanket he had used. His loud parties had almost completely disappeared. The music was rare now, and when it did play, it was kept low and ended early.
He was there for the small things too. When your favorite hoodie got a tear, a new one in the exact same oversized style appeared at your door the next day. When you mentioned in passing that the smell of your old shampoo made you sick, he came back with a new, scent free one. On days when the fatigue was overwhelming, he would quietly sit with you on the couch, not pushing you to talk, just keeping you company while you rested. You were now two months pregnant.
Your bump was still small enough to hide under loose hoodies and oversized sweaters, but your body was changing in ways that were impossible to ignore. The nausea came in unpredictable waves. The exhaustion made even simple tasks feel heavy. Your emotions swung wildly one moment you felt determined, the next you were crying over nothing. And yet, you still hadn’t told Yunjin, Soobin, or your parents.
Every time you tried to find the right moment, it never felt perfect. The fear of their reactions, their questions, and the overwhelming reality of it all kept stopping you.
This evening, Yunjin was coming over for a group study session. You had already texted Heeseung earlier in the day
You : Yunjin is coming over tonight for study. Can’t do dinner together sorry
His reply had been simple and understanding
Heeseung : No worries lmk if you need anything
At 6:45 PM, there was a knock on your door. You opened it expecting Yunjin.Instead, Heeseung stood there holding a small bag.“I know you said no dinner,” he said softly, “but I brought some light snacks in case you get hungry later. Ginger cookies and cut fruit. Just keep them in the fridge.”You took the bag, feeling that familiar warmth spread through your chest again. “Thank you,” you whispered.Heeseung gave you a small, gentle smile. His eyes lingered on you for a second longer than usual, like he wanted to say more, but he simply nodded.
“I’ll be next door if you need me.”He turned to leave just as Yunjin appeared at the end of the hallway, carrying her bag and laptop. The moment she saw Heeseung leaving your apartment, her eyebrows shot up.She waited until he disappeared into his own door before stepping inside yours and closing the door with a dramatic click.“Okay,” she said immediately, crossing her arms. “What the hell was that?”You froze for a split second at Yunjin’s question, then forced a casual shrug, trying to sound as normal as possible.
“He just had some extra fruits and snacks,” you said, avoiding her sharp gaze. “He was being a good neighbor, that’s all. No big deal.”Yunjin stared at you like you had grown a second head. She let out a loud, disbelieving scoff and crossed her arms tighter. “A good neighbor?” she repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Heeseung? The same guy who used to blast music until 3 a.m. just to piss you off? The one you called an entitled asshole for months? Since when does he randomly bring you snacks like some thoughtful boyfriend? Come on. He’s never been good to you. He’s an asshole, and we both know it.”
Her words hit harder than you expected. You felt a pang of defensiveness rise in your chest, even though part of you knew she was right or at least, she used to be.You rubbed your temple, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Yunjin, can you please calm down? It’s really not that deep. Let’s just get our books out and start studying, okay? I’ll go get the snacks and cut fruits he brought.”You didn’t wait for her reply. You quickly moved toward the kitchen area, grateful for the excuse to escape her intense stare.
Your hands were slightly shaky as you took out the containers Heeseung had brought the ginger cookies, fresh fruit slices, and some light crackers. You arranged them neatly on a plate, trying to buy yourself a few extra seconds to collect your thoughts.
Yunjin muttered something under her breath behind you, but you ignored it and focused on the task.
Two minutes later, you returned to the living room with the plate of snacks, forcing a small smile.“Here, I brought—”Your words died in your throat.
Yunjin was no longer sitting on the couch.She was sitting on the edge of your bed, holding the ultrasound picture in her hands. The same one you had left on your nightstand earlier, half hidden under a notebook. Her eyes were wide, completely fixed on the small black and white image. The room felt like all the air had been sucked out of it. You froze on the spot, the plate trembling slightly in your hands. Your heart slammed against your ribcage so hard you thought it might break.
Yunjin slowly looked up at you, her expression a mixture of shock, confusion, and dawning realization.
“…What the hell is this?” she whispered, voice barely audible.The snacks suddenly felt too heavy. The plate nearly slipped from your fingers as the weight of the moment crashed down on you. You had imagined telling her a thousand times, but never like this. Never with her accidentally finding the proof before you were ready.Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You just stood there, frozen in the middle of your apartment, staring at your best friend holding the ultrasound picture of the baby you were still too scared to fully talk about.
Yunjin’s eyes flicked back down to the image, then back up to your face. Her voice cracked slightly when she spoke again.“Is this… yours?”You stood frozen in the middle of your room, the plate of snacks still trembling in your hands. Yunjin’s eyes were wide, locked onto the ultrasound picture she was holding. The silence stretched for what felt like forever. Finally, you gave a small, shaky nod.Yunjin’s reaction was immediate.
“Oh my god—” She dropped the picture onto the bed and rushed toward you, nearly knocking the plate out of your hands. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, pulling you into a fierce hug. “Oh my god, congratulations!!”You were completely taken back. Your body stiffened at first, but the warmth of her hug and the genuine joy mixed with shock in her voice broke something inside you. Tears welled up in your eyes instantly. You hugged her back, burying your face in her shoulder as both of you started crying.
Yunjin was sobbing softly, rocking you gently. “I can’t believe this You’re pregnant? You’re actually pregnant? Oh my god, I’m so happy for you but I’m also so mad you didn’t tell me sooner!” You cried harder into her shoulder, the relief of finally being seen of not carrying this secret completely alone anymore washing over you in waves. The two of you stood there in the middle of your apartment, hugging and crying for a long minute, the plate of snacks long forgotten on the table.
Eventually, you both pulled back, wiping your tears. Yunjin’s mascara was slightly smudged, and she let out a watery laugh as she cupped your face with both hands.“Tell me everything,” she whispered, still emotional. “When did this happen? How far along are you? Are you okay?” You sat down on the edge of the bed together. You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “We we’re dating,” you said first, the lie slipping out carefully. “Me and Heeseung. It started after Sunghoon’s party.”
Yunjin’s eyes widened, but before she could react fully, you continued, dropping the bigger truth.“And he’s the father.”The words hung in the air.Yunjin froze completely. Her mouth fell open in pure shock. For a few long seconds, she just stared at you, processing.
Then she let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh.
“I I suspected something was going on between you two,” she admitted, still looking stunned. “The way you’ve been acting lately, disappearing, looking exhausted, and then suddenly getting out of his car this morning I thought maybe you were secretly seeing each other. But him being the father? Holy shit.”
She grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly, her expression shifting rapidly between shock, worry, and tentative happiness.“Are you okay? Like, actually okay? This is a lot. And with Heeseung of all people” She trailed off, searching your face. “Do you want this baby? Are you keeping it?”You nodded slowly, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks.“I’m keeping it,” you whispered. “I saw the heartbeat and I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t get rid of it.”Yunjin pulled you into another tight hug, rubbing your back.
“Oh babe I’m here whatever you need. We’ll figure this out together, okay? You’re not alone in this.”
You clung to her, crying quietly into her shoulder again. The relief of finally telling someone, especially your best friend, was overwhelming. But the fear was still there.Because now that Yunjin knew telling Soobin, your parents, and the rest of the world was going to be the next terrifying step.
Yunjin pulled back from the hug but kept her hands on your shoulders, staring at you with wide, teary eyes. She looked like her brain was still trying to catch up with everything you had just told her.“Okay okay, wait,” she said, wiping her own tears. “Let me process this. You’re pregnant. With Heeseung’s baby. And you’re keeping it.”You nodded, sniffling.Yunjin took a deep breath, then launched into full best friend interrogation mode. “Is he taking care of you? Like, actually taking care of you? Or is he being his usual asshole self and making this all about him?” You shook your head slowly.
“He’s been really good, actually,” you said quietly. “He’s been showing up without me asking. He brings me food that doesn’t make me throw up ginger tea, plain porridge, light stuff like that. He checks on me every day. He even skipped basketball practice to take me to the clinic. And when I was crying in the doctor’s room he held me and he cried too.”Yunjin stared at you, completely stunned. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again.
“…Heeseung? Lee Heeseung? The loud party guy who used to piss you off on purpose?” She looked genuinely shocked. “You’re telling me he’s been nice? Supportive?”You nodded again, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips. “He wanted to keep the baby,” you added softly. “When I told him I was thinking about terminating, he said he supported whatever I decided. But he also said he would be there for me and the baby no matter what.”Yunjin leaned back against the headboard, looking completely floored.
“I… I don’t even know what to say. That’s not the Heeseung I know. I thought he was going to be a total dick about this.”
You let out a watery laugh. “Me too but he’s been really different.” Yunjin was quiet for a moment, processing everything. Then, suddenly, her entire expression shifted. The shock melted away into pure excitement. Her eyes lit up as she grabbed your hands again. “Oh my god,” she squealed, voice rising. “We need to come up with a nickname for your baby! Right now!” You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden mood shift, but her energy was contagious. A small, genuine laugh escaped you.
“Already?” you asked, wiping your tears. “Yes! We have to!” Yunjin grinned, scooting closer. “Okay, okay what about ummm Bean? Because they’re bean sized right now!”You wrinkled your nose. “Too basic.”
“Peanut?”
“Even more basic.”
Yunjin tapped her chin dramatically. “Hmm what about Sprout? Little Sprout!”You giggled. “That’s kind of cute.” “Or or Bubbles!” You both laughed, the tension in the room slowly easing as you brainstormed together.Then Yunjin gasped. “Wait what about Bambi?”You paused. “Bambi?” you repeated, testing the name. A soft smile spread across your face. “Like the deer?” “Yes! Because they’re tiny and cute and probably really gentle and soft Bambi.” Yunjin bounced a little on the bed. “Eeek, I love it!” You looked down at your stomach, gently placing a hand over it.
“Bambi…” you whispered. The name felt warm. gentle and right.You looked back at Yunjin, tears still in your eyes but now mixed with a small, hopeful smile.
“I think I really like Bambi.”Yunjin squealed again and pulled you into another tight hug.“Bambi it is! Our little Bambi.”For the first time in weeks, you felt something other than fear and anxiety.You felt a spark of hope. And even though everything was still terrifying and complicated at least now you had Yunjin by your side and a little nickname for the tiny life growing inside you.
After the initial shock and tears settled, you and Yunjin barely touched your books.The notebooks and highlighters lay forgotten on the table while Yunjin sat cross legged on your bed, eyes sparkling with excitement. She was fully in planning mode, talking a mile a minute as she gestured wildly with her hands.
“Okay, first things first I’m calling dibs on being the godmother,” she declared dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “I’m going to spoil this baby so much. They’re going to love me more than you.” You let out a soft laugh, wiping the last of your tears. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m serious!” she grinned. “And I’m team girl all the way. It’s definitely a girl. I can feel it. She’s going to be so cute, with your eyes and maybe Heeseung’s stupidly good hair. We’re going to dress her in tiny dresses and put little bows in her hair—” You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “I don’t know I feel in my gut that it’s a boy.” Yunjin gasped, looking personally offended. “A boy?! No way this baby is a girl. I refuse to accept anything else.” You both laughed, but it quickly turned into a tiny, playful argument.
“You’re just saying that because you want to buy cute dresses,” you teased. “And you’re saying boy because you want a mini Heeseung running around,” she shot back, poking your arm. The lighthearted bickering felt normal, even. For a few minutes, the heavy weight of your secret lifted, replaced by giggles and Yunjin’s dramatic declarations. Eventually, she leaned back against the headboard, looking thoughtful. “I’m going to be in charge of the baby shower,” she announced. “And the gender reveal. And the nursery theme. All of it. You don’t even have to lift a finger.”
You smiled softly, but then your expression turned serious. “Yunjin nobody can know yet,” you said quietly. “Not Soobin, not my parents, not anyone. Not about the pregnancy and not about me and Heeseung att least not right now.” Yunjin nodded, understanding immediately. “Of course. I won’t say a word.” You continued, “Maybe in a month or two, we’ll start publicly ‘flaunting’ the relationship to make it look real but right now we need to keep things quiet.” “Got it,” she said, squeezing your hand. “We’ll take it slow. One step at a time.”
The conversation flowed easily after that. Yunjin stayed the night, just like old times. You both changed into pajamas, turned on a comfort movie in the background, and talked for hours about baby names, nursery ideas, how you were feeling, and how Heeseung had been acting. She listened without judgment, only offering support and the occasional teasing remark. Later that night, while Yunjin was brushing her teeth in the bathroom, you picked up your phone and sent Heeseung a message.
You : Yunjin found out about the pregnancy tonight. She kind of discovered the ultrasound picture on her own. She’s staying over right now. We also came up with a nickname for the baby Bambi >.<
You stared at the message for a moment before sending it. A few minutes later, Heeseung replied.
Heeseung : Bambi? I like it
Heeseung : How did she take it? Are you okay?
You smiled faintly at his concern.
You : She took it surprisingly well she’s excited cried a lot. Declared herself godmother already and yes I’m okay just tired
Heeseung : Good tell her I said hi and get some rest. I’ll bring breakfast tomorrow morning
You put your phone down and looked over at Yunjin, who was now sprawled on the other side of your bed, already half asleep. For the first time in weeks, you didn’t feel completely alone in this. You still had a long way to go telling Soobin, telling your parents, figuring out how to navigate this fake relationship with Heeseung, and actually becoming a mother.
But tonight, with your best friend beside you and a tiny nickname for your baby, things felt just a little bit lighter.
The next morning, you and Yunjin were still half asleep when there was a soft knock on your door.
Yunjin groaned dramatically from her side of the bed, burying her face deeper into the pillow. “If that’s Heeseung, tell him I’m interrogating him before I let him leave.” You smiled tiredly and dragged yourself out of bed, still in your oversized sleep shirt. When you opened the door, Heeseung was standing there holding two large paper bags and a tray with drinks.
“Morning,” he said softly, his voice gentle. “I brought breakfast for both of you. Figured Yunjin might be hungry too.”
He stepped inside after you let him in. The smell of warm food, mild porridge, fresh fruit, and ginger tea filled the apartment without being overwhelming. Yunjin sat up in bed, hair messy, eyes narrowing the second she saw him. “Oh, perfect timing,” she said, suddenly wide awake. She crossed her arms like a judge about to deliver a verdict. “Sit down, Lee Heeseung. I have questions.” Heeseung didn’t even look surprised. He set the bags on the small table and pulled up a chair, calm and composed. “Ask away,” he said simply. Yunjin didn’t waste a second.
“Are you actually taking care of her or are you just playing nice because she’s pregnant?” “I’m taking care of her,” he answered steadily. “Every day. I bring food she can keep down, I check on her nausea, I make sure she’s resting. I was with her at the clinic yesterday.”
Yunjin narrowed her eyes. “And you’re not being an asshole to her behind closed doors?” Heeseung shook his head. “No I'm not. I know how I used to act but things are different now.” She fired off more questions, one after another.
He answered every single one patiently about how he was adjusting his practice schedule, how he was handling the pregnancy emotionally, whether he was pressuring you about anything. He never got defensive. He just answered honestly and quietly.
After nearly ten minutes of intense questioning, Yunjin finally leaned back, looking slightly impressed.
“…Okay. You’re not as much of an asshole as I thought,” she muttered. Heeseung gave a small, tired smile. “High praise.”
Before he left, he turned to you. His expression softened as he stepped closer. He gently cupped the side of your face and leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be telling my coach and close friends about us and Bambi today,” he murmured against your skin. “Just so you know.”
Your heart melted into a puddle at the gentle gesture. The warmth of his lips on your forehead sent a flutter through your chest. This wasn’t the first time he had done this.
You remembered the night a week ago when the anxiety had hit you particularly hard. You had been crying uncontrollably, overwhelmed by fear and hormones. Heeseung had shown up without being asked, held you close on the couch, rubbed your back, and kissed your forehead repeatedly while whispering that everything would be okay until you finally fell asleep in his arms. The memory made your cheeks warm. Heeseung pulled back, gave you one last soft look, and quietly left the apartment.
The second the door closed, Yunjin let out a high pitched squeal and flopped back onto your bed.
“OH MY GODDDD!” she screamed into a pillow. “That was so sweet! The forehead kiss?! The ‘Bambi’?! I’m actually going to throw up from how cute that was. Heeseung?? Doing all of this?? I’m in shock.” You sat down on the edge of the bed, still feeling the ghost of his kiss on your forehead. Your heart was doing strange, fluttery things you weren’t ready to examine too closely.
Yunjin sat up again, grinning widely. “Okay, I take back half the things I said about him. He might actually be good for you and for Bambi.” You didn’t reply. You just smiled softly, fingers brushing over the spot he had kissed. For the first time, the future didn’t feel quite as terrifying. Even if everything was still complicated, Heeseung was proving, day by day, that he wasn’t going to run away from this and neither were you.
ꪆ୧ heeseung’s pov ─── ドラマ.
The day you decided to keep the baby, Heeseung felt something he had never experienced before.
It wasn’t just happiness. It was bigger than that overwhelming, almost frightening in its intensity. When you broke down in the doctor’s room and sobbed that you couldn’t go through with the termination, that you wanted to keep the baby, something inside him cracked open and flooded with warmth. He was over the moon. That same evening, after you had both returned to your apartment and the dust had settled a little, the words had slipped out of him before he could stop them.
“Marry me.”He had meant it. In that moment, with the image of that tiny heartbeat still fresh in his mind, he wanted nothing more than to do this properly to stand by you, to give the baby a real family, to prove he could be more than the guy you used to hate.
But you had laughed at first, then looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. You told him marriage wasn’t something you did just because of a baby. You said it needed trust, love, and knowing each other things you didn’t have.The rejection stung more than he wanted to admit. It hurt.
Not because he was arrogant enough to think you’d say yes immediately, but because for a brief moment, he had let himself imagine a future where you chose him too. Where this wasn’t just about responsibility, but something real.Still, he respected your decision. He couldn’t force you to love him. He couldn’t force you to marry him. He wouldn’t do that to you, and he refused to do that to himself either. That night, after he left your apartment, Heeseung couldn’t sleep. He sat on his couch in the dark for hours, staring at the wall that separated his place from yours. Then he opened his laptop and started researching.
He read everything. Early pregnancy symptoms morning sickness management prenatal vitamins. What foods to avoid. How the baby developed week by week emotional changes postpartum care. He spent hours going down rabbit holes articles, medical websites, forums where parents shared their experiences. When the sun started to rise, he moved on to parenting books. He ordered nearly twenty of them in one go everything from What to Expect When You’re Expecting to guides on co parenting, single parenting, and building healthy relationships after unexpected pregnancies. He even bought books on newborn care, baby sleep schedules, and how to support a partner through pregnancy.
By the time he finally closed his laptop, the sky was bright. He leaned back on the couch, rubbing his tired eyes. His mind was racing with information, but beneath all the facts and statistics was one clear, undeniable feeling he already loved this baby. More than he thought was possible in such a short time.
Even if you never loved him back, even if you never wanted to marry him, even if this ended up being the most complicated co-parenting situation in the world he was going to be there.
He was going to be a good father.
He refused to be anything less.
Heeseung glanced at the wall again, wondering if you were awake yet. He thought about texting you, but decided against it. You needed rest. Instead, he whispered to the empty room, voice rough from lack of sleep “I’ve got you both.” And for the first time in a long time, despite the pressure from his father, despite the uncertainty of his basketball career, despite the complicated feelings he had for you, Heeseung felt a quiet sense of purpose settle over him. This baby was going to change everything and he was ready.
Ever since the day you decided to keep the baby, Heeseung had been living in a state of quiet, overwhelming happiness. It wasn’t the loud, flashy kind of joy he was used to winning games, hearing the crowd cheer his name, or the temporary high from parties. This was deeper steadier. It settled in his chest like a warm light that never quite dimmed, even on his hardest days. He had no idea where he was finding the time, but somehow he was doing everything.
He woke up earlier than usual now, going for runs before practice, then pushing himself twice as hard during training sessions. His shots were cleaner, his focus sharper, his stamina noticeably better. Coach had even pulled him aside last week and said, “Whatever fire you’ve got under you lately keep it going.” Heeseung just smiled and kept working.
In the evenings, after practice, he studied harder than he ever had. He reviewed game footage, worked on assignments, and still found time to cook for you.
Simple, gentle meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach ginger porridge, steamed fish with mild seasoning, fresh fruit, warm soups. He enjoyed it. The rhythm of chopping vegetables, stirring pots, plating everything carefully it grounded him. But what made him happiest wasn’t just the baby it was you. You were slowly opening up to him.
What used to be nothing but sharp arguments and cold avoidance had turned into real conversations. Some nights he would cook in your kitchen while you sat on the counter or at the small table, watching him. You’d talk about your capstone project, about the art exhibitions you dreamed of curating one day.
Sometimes you’d ask him about basketball, about his dreams of going pro. He would catch himself smiling for no reason while stirring the pot, just because you were there, talking to him like he wasn’t the guy you used to hate. He often found himself thinking about you even when he wasn’t trying to.Did she eat today?
Is the nausea better this morning?Did she remember to take her vitamins?What is she doing right now?
These thoughts would sneak up on him during practice, during lectures, even late at night.
And instead of feeling annoyed by how much space you took up in his mind, he felt warm and content.
His friends and coach had started noticing the change too. During one practice, Jake had jogged up to him during a water break, wiping sweat from his forehead.
“Dude, you’ve been weirdly chill lately,” Jake said, grinning. “No more wild parties. You barely hang out with us after practice anymore. What’s going on? You got a secret girlfriend or something?” Heeseung just shrugged with a small smile. “Just focused.”
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “Focused? You look like you’re glowing, man. It’s creepy.” Even Coach had commented once, “Lee, you’ve been showing up with better energy lately. Whatever you’re doing outside of here keep doing it.” Heeseung didn’t tell them the truth yet. Not fully. He had quietly told his closest friends and coach that he was seeing someone seriously and that things were complicated, but good. He left out the pregnancy part for now. That was something you both needed to navigate together first.
His partying had almost completely stopped. The loud nights, the random girls, the chaos it all felt pointless now. He preferred quiet evenings cooking for you, or sitting on your couch while you rested your head on his shoulder, too tired to talk but not wanting to be alone. He was happier than he had ever been.
Even on days when the pressure from his father weighed on him, even when he worried about the future and how he was going to balance basketball, fatherhood, and whatever this was with you he was still happy.
Because for the first time in his life, Heeseung felt like he had something that truly mattered. Something worth working hard for. Something worth becoming better for.And that something was you and the tiny life growing inside you. Heeseung had no real reason to be near the Arts Building that afternoon. Practice had ended early, and he told himself he was just going for a walk to clear his head. When Sunghoon asked where he was headed, Heeseung casually mentioned something about needing to ask Sunghoon about a shared assignment. It was a weak excuse, but Sunghoon didn’t question it.
Deep down, Heeseung knew the truth. He wanted to see you. He didn’t fully understand why. Maybe it was the way you had started smiling at him more often when he brought you dinner. Maybe it was the quiet nights where you let him stay over on your couch. Or maybe it was the tiny life growing inside you that made him feel inexplicably drawn to you. Whatever it was, he found himself walking toward the Arts Building, hands in his pockets, pretending it was completely normal.
They were halfway there when he spotted you. You were walking out of the main entrance with Yunjin and Soobin, laughing at something Yunjin was saying. The late afternoon sunlight caught your face perfectly your warm brown eyes sparkling with amusement, the natural soft pink flush on your cheeks, the way your hair moved as you tilted your head back in laughter. Heeseung stopped in his tracks. God… were you always this pretty? He couldn’t look away. The carefree smile on your face, the lightness in your step, the way you looked so alive and bright despite everything you were going throughit hit him square in the chest.
For a moment, the entire campus faded into background noise. It was just you. Sunghoon walked a few steps ahead before realizing Heeseung had stopped. He turned around, eyebrows raised. “Yo, what are you—” Sunghoon followed Heeseung’s gaze and smirked. “Oh? Staring at someone?” Heeseung blinked, snapping out of it. “What? No.” Sunghoon’s smirk widened. “Sure you were practically frozen. Who is she?” Heeseung quickly looked away and grabbed Sunghoon’s arm, dragging him in the opposite direction. “No one let’s go. I don’t even know why I came this way.”
Sunghoon laughed, letting himself be pulled along but still glancing back curiously. “Alright, whatever you say. But you were definitely staring.” Heeseung didn’t reply. He just kept walking, ears slightly warm.
His heart was still beating faster than usual.
He had no idea when you had gone from being the annoying neighbor he loved to tease to someone whose laugh made him stop dead in his tracks like an idiot. But one thing was becoming clearer every single day he was falling for you and he had no idea what to do with that.
Heeseung had always been honest with himself about one thing girls had never meant much to him beyond a night of fun. It was never emotional, never deep. To him, it was all about sex, release, and moving on the next day. No strings, no feelings, no complications. That was how he liked it, simple and easy. But you you were different. From the very beginning, even when you were banging on his door calling him an asshole, something about you had gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever had. And now, after the pregnancy, after seeing that tiny heartbeat, after holding you while you cried he realized it wasn’t just about the baby.
It was about you. He cared about you. Not because you were carrying his child, but because it was you. The girl who didn’t care about his status, who called him out without hesitation, who had dreams bigger than campus popularity. He loved how different you were from the other girls how real, how stubborn, how unapologetically yourself. It might have sounded cliché as hell, but it was the truth. He was falling for you hard.
That evening, when you texted him that Yunjin had found out about the pregnancy and that the two of you had come up with a nickname for the baby, Heeseung had been in the middle of cooking.
You : Yunjin found out. We came up with a nickname for the baby Bambi
He had stared at the message for a long time, heart suddenly pounding Bambi.The word hit him like fireworks exploding in his chest. He whispered it under his breath, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Bambi”He loved it. He loved it so much it almost scared him. The image of a tiny, gentle little life, his child being called something so soft and precious made something warm and protective bloom inside him. He was starting to fall not just for the idea of being a father, but for the reality of building something with you.
The next morning, when he had dropped off breakfast and kissed your forehead in front of Yunjin, he had felt his cheeks flush with warmth. The way you had looked at him surprised, soft, a little flustered had done something dangerous to his heart. He had to practically run out of your apartment to hide the stupid smile threatening to break across his face.
He loved kissing your forehead. He loved the quiet nights when he held you close until you fell asleep. He loved pulling you into his arms when you cried because of hormones or fear or exhaustion. He loved being the person you leaned on now.
And the scariest part?He was starting to realize he didn’t just want to be there for the baby.He wanted to be there for you.Even if you didn’t feel the same way yet.Even if you had rejected his impulsive marriage proposal.Even if this whole thing was messy and complicated and terrifying.Heeseung leaned back on his couch that night, staring at the ceiling with a small, private smile Bambi.He whispered the name again, letting it settle in his heart like a promise.He was falling in love with you.And for the first time in his life, he wasn’t running away from it.
That same day, Heeseung made up his mind.
He was going to tell them.Not everything, not the messy parts, not the fact that you two weren’t actually dating yet but the important truths. That he was seeing you. That you were pregnant. That this baby was his.He arrived at practice with a strange mix of nerves and resolve settled in his chest. For once, his mind wasn’t entirely on basketball. Every drill, every sprint, every shot he took felt secondary to the conversation he knew was coming afterward.
Practice went surprisingly well. His focus was sharp, his movements clean. He pushed himself harder than usual, and it showed. Coach noticed, giving him an approving nod at the end but saying nothing more.
When practice finally ended and most of the team started heading toward the lockers, Heeseung raised his voice.
“Coach guys can you stay back for a minute? I need to talk to you.”The group Coach, Jake, Jay, Beomgyu, and a couple of other close teammates exchanged curious glances but stayed. They gathered near the benches, wiping sweat from their faces, water bottles in hand.
Heeseung stood in front of them, heart pounding harder than it had during any game. He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly unsure how to start.
“I… uh, I’ve been seeing someone,” he began. His voice was steady, but his hands were clenched at his sides. “It’s serious. And she’s pregnant.”The silence that followed was deafening.Jake’s water bottle froze halfway to his mouth. Jay’s eyebrows shot up. Beomgyu’s mouth fell open.Coach was the first to speak, voice low and serious. “Pregnant?”Heeseung nodded. “Yeah two months along. It wasn’t planned but we’re keeping the baby.”Beomgyu let out a stunned laugh. “Holy shit, Heeseung. You’re going to be a dad?”
Jake stepped forward, eyes wide. “Wait who is she? Do we know her?”Heeseung hesitated for half a second, then said it.“It’s the girl next door. The one who used to hate me. We had a thing after Sunghoon’s party. And now she’s pregnant with my child.”The reaction was immediate.Jay looked like he was buffering. “You’re telling me you got the one girl who couldn’t stand you pregnant?” Beomgyu grinned, still in disbelief. “This is insane. The girl who used to bang on your door? That girl?”
Heeseung let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Yeah that one.”Coach crossed his arms, studying him carefully. “And you’re sure about this? Keeping the baby?”“I’m sure,” Heeseung said without hesitation. His voice softened. “I saw the heartbeat. It’s real I want this. I’m going to take care of both of them.”The group was quiet for a moment, processing.Then Jake broke into a wide grin and pulled Heeseung into a rough hug. “Damn, man, congratulations. This is wild, butI’m happy for you.”
One by one, the others followed clapping him on the back, offering stunned but genuine congratulations. Even the coach gave him a firm nod and a pat on the shoulder.
“This is going to change things for you, Lee,” Coach said seriously. “But if you’re committed, we’ll work around it. Your priorities are shifting. That’s part of growing up.”Heeseung nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief now that the truth was out with the people who mattered most on the team.As they finally headed toward the lockers, Beomgyu slung an arm around his shoulders.“So does this mean no more parties?” he teased.Heeseung smiled, small but real.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “No more parties.”Because right now, the only thing that mattered was you and Bambi.And for the first time in his life, Heeseung was completely okay with that.
ꪆ୧ ─── ドラマ.
Things were starting to get rough.The pregnancy hormones had fully kicked in, and they were merciless.At two months, your body no longer felt like your own. The nausea had eased slightly, but it was replaced by something far more overwhelming an intense, almost constant wave of desire that left you restless and frustrated.
Your emotions swung wildly from one extreme to another. One moment you were crying over a soft song, the next you were irritable for no reason. But the worst part was the arousal.It was relentless.You’d wake up in the middle of the night flushed and aching, thighs pressed together, body throbbing with a need you couldn’t ignore.
During the day, innocent things would set you off the low timbre of Heeseung’s voice when he brought you breakfast, the way his shirt stretched across his shoulders when he cooked, even the faint scent of his cologne drifting through the wall between your apartments. Your breasts were tender and hypersensitive, brushing against fabric made you bite your lip to hold back a whimper.
You tried to take care of it yourself.Late at night, when Yunjin wasn’t staying over and the apartment was quiet, you’d slip your hand between your legs, desperate for relief. But no matter how much you touched yourself, slow circles, faster strokes, even bringing out the small vibrator you rarely used wasn't enough. The orgasms felt shallow, unsatisfying, leaving you even more wound up than before. Your body craved something deeper, something fuller.
Something only another person could give.And the worst part? That person was right next door.
Heeseung. The same Heeseung who had been nothing but gentle and attentive these past weeks. The one who kissed your forehead, held you when you cried, cooked meals that didn’t make you sick. The one whose quiet care was slowly chipping away at the walls you’d built around yourself.You hated how much you wanted him.
You’d lie in bed at night, hand between your thighs, imagining his hands instead his long fingers, his mouth, the way he had touched you that one reckless night. The memory of him inside you, deep and thick, made you moan softly into your pillow as you tried (and failed) to find release.It was getting harder to hide.Your cheeks would flush randomly during conversations with Yunjin. You’d press your thighs together during lectures when a sudden wave of heat hit you.
You found yourself staring at Heeseung’s hands when he brought you food, wondering how they would feel on your skin again. You felt embarrassed, guilty and horny beyond reason.And you had no idea how much longer you could keep pretending everything was fine.
A month had passed since you told your parents.
They had flown in to visit you after you finally gathered the courage to break the news over a video call. The moment you told them you were pregnant and that you were dating Heeseung the reaction was everything you had hoped for but still left you emotional.
Your mom had gasped, then immediately started crying happy tears. Your dad he had gone completely silent for almost ten seconds before his eyes welled up. He shed so many tears that day, pulling you into the tightest hug when they arrived, whispering how proud he was of you and how excited he was to become a grandfather. They both adored Heeseung from the first meeting your dad even clapped him on the back and said, “Take care of my daughter and my grandbaby, son.” The support from them had been overwhelming in the best way.
Now, today was the day. Heeseung’s basketball match is your first public appearance as his (fake) girlfriend in front of everyone.You were three months along. Your belly had started to show a soft, consistent bloat that made your clothes fit differently. You couldn’t hide it completely anymore, but it still looked like normal bloating to most people. Only you, Heeseung, Yunjin, Soobin, and your parents knew the truth.
Heeseung had left early in the morning. As captain, he needed to be with the team for warm ups and strategy meetings. Before he left, he had gently placed his spare jersey in your hands, the one with “LEE 7” printed on the back. “Wear this,” he had said softly, kissing your forehead. “You don’t have to worry about anything today. Just enjoy the game. I’ve got you.” You were nervous as hell. You stood in front of your mirror, adjusting the oversized jersey. It was big on you, falling mid-thigh, but it felt comforting.
You paired it with leggings and a light jacket to hide the slight curve of your belly. Yunjin and Soobin were already waiting for you downstairs.When you finally met them outside, Yunjin squealed at the sight of you in Heeseung’s jersey.“Oh my god, look at you! His girlfriend era is so real,” she teased, linking her arm with yours. Soobin smiled warmly, though his eyes still held that protective worry he’d had ever since you told him the truth two weeks ago. “You look good,” Soobin said gently. “Ready?”You nodded, even though your stomach was doing flips.
The arena was packed when you arrived. The energy was electric cheers, music, the sound of basketballs bouncing during warm ups. The moment you walked in with Yunjin and Soobin, a few heads turned. People whispered. Someone pointed. You kept your head slightly down, heart racing, but Yunjin squeezed your arm reassuringly.
The three of you found seats close to the court, right behind the home team’s bench. As soon as you sat down, the players started coming out for the national anthem. Your eyes immediately found Heeseung.
He looked focused, tall and confident in his uniform. But the second his gaze landed on you wearing his jersey, his expression softened. A small, private smile tugged at his lips. He gave you a subtle nod before turning back to his team.
The game started, and the crowd went wild.
You tried to focus on the match, but your nerves were through the roof. Every time Heeseung made a play, your heart jumped. Every time the crowd cheered his name, you felt a strange mix of pride and anxiety. Yunjin was screaming her lungs out, Soobin was calmly explaining plays to you, but your mind kept drifting.This was real now.You were here as Heeseung’s girlfriend at least in everyone’s eyes.
And you were carrying his baby.During a timeout, Heeseung jogged over to the sidelines.
He looked up at you again, his eyes warm even from a distance. He mouthed “You okay?” and you gave him a small nod and a thumbs up. He smiled that soft, real smile he only seemed to give you these days before jogging back to his team. Yunjin nudged you with her elbow, grinning. “He’s whipped,” she whispered. “Look at him checking on you during the game.”
You didn’t reply. You just squeezed the star shaped squishy toy in your pocket and tried to calm your racing heart.
The game continued, loud and fast paced, but your mind was somewhere else entirely on the tiny life growing inside you, on the boy on the court who was trying so hard to be there for you, and on how complicated and scary and strangely hopeful everything felt right now. The final buzzer sounded, and the entire arena erupted.
Your university team had won by a solid 12 points. The crowd was on their feet, cheering wildly as the players celebrated on the court. Heeseung was right in the middle of it all, smiling wide, laughing with his teammates, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead. He looked so happy. So alive. So incredibly cool as he high-fived his teammates and lifted the game ball in victory. You couldn’t stop staring.
Even from the stands, you could see the pure joy on his face. For a moment, all the complications between you two faded, and you just felt proud. Proud of him.
After the celebrations on the court died down a little, Heeseung jogged over to the sidelines where you, Yunjin, and Soobin were waiting. Without hesitation, he pulled you into a warm, sweaty hug right there in front of everyone.
His arms wrapped around you tightly, one hand gently pressing against your lower back. The crowd around you cheered louder at the sight. Cameras flashed. Whispers turned into audible gasps.
Heeseung pulled back just enough to look at you, then leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering peck on your cheek.“You did great,” you whispered, still a little dazed by the public affection. He smiled, that soft, private smile he only seemed to give you these days.
“I’ll be back with the team in a bit we have to do the post game stuff,” he said, voice low so only you could hear. “Go home with Soobin and Yunjin, okay? I’ll text you when I’m heading back.”
You nodded, cheeks burning. “Okay.” He gave your hand one last gentle squeeze before jogging back toward his teammates. You stood there, heart racing, as Yunjin squealed beside you and Soobin gave you a knowing look. The walk back to the apartment with your friends felt surreal. People were still staring, whispering, taking photos. But your mind wasn’t on them.It was on him. Why are you blushing? you thought, pressing your cool hands to your warm cheeks as you walked. It was just a hug. Just a peck on the cheek. It’s all fake anyway.
But your body didn’t seem to care that it was fake.
A familiar heat had pooled low in your belly. Your pussy clenched involuntarily at the memory of his arms around you, his breath against your cheek, the way his jersey had clung to his broad shoulders and back while he played. The pregnancy hormones were ruthless these days. They turned every innocent touch, every look, every small act of care into something filthy in your mind. You pressed your thighs together as you walked, trying to ignore the growing ache between your legs.
Why did everything Heeseung did suddenly feel so hot? The way he had looked at you after the win, the way he had hugged you so publicly, the way he had kissed your cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world you were horny.Embarrassingly, desperately horny.And it was getting harder and harder to pretend you weren’t affected by him.
When you finally got back to your apartment, you thanked Soobin and Yunjin for coming with you. Yunjin hugged you tightly before leaving, whispering, “Text me if you need anything, baby mama,” with a wink.
Soobin gave you a gentle, concerned smile and reminded you to rest.The moment the door closed, you leaned against it and let out a shaky breath.
Your hand drifted down to rest on your slightly bloated belly three months. You were three months pregnant with Heeseung’s baby and your body was betraying you in the most inconvenient ways possible.
You closed your eyes, remembering the way Heeseung had looked at you after the game, happy, proud, and focused only on you in a crowded arena.
Your pussy clenched again.
“Fuck,” you whispered to the empty apartment, cheeks burning.This was getting dangerous.You couldn’t fight it anymore. The moment you stepped inside your apartment and locked the door, the ache between your legs became unbearable. Pregnancy hormones had turned your body into something foreign hypersensitive, needy, and constantly throbbing. Your breasts felt heavy and swollen, your nipples tight against the fabric of your bra. Your pussy was slick and aching, clenching around nothing.
You didn’t even make it to the bed properly.
You kicked off your shoes, yanked your pants and panties down in one desperate motion, and fell back onto the mattress. Your shirt was pushed up hastily over your breasts. The cool air hit your heated skin as you cupped your swollen tits, squeezing them roughly. A broken moan slipped from your lips when your fingers brushed your sensitive nipples.
“Fuck…” you whispered, eyes fluttering shut.
One hand stayed on your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple, while the other slid down your stomach and between your thighs.
You were soaked. Your fingers glided easily over your swollen clit, rubbing tight, frantic circles. The relief was immediate but not enough. You pushed two fingers inside yourself, pumping desperately, imagining thicker, longer fingers his fingers.
Your hips bucked against your hand. Soft, needy whimpers filled the room as you fucked yourself faster, thighs trembling. The pressure built quickly, but every time you got close, it slipped away. You needed more. You needed him. You were so lost in it eyes closed, lips parted, fingers thrusting wetly inside your dripping pussy that you didn’t hear the front door open
Heeseung stepped inside quietly, holding the spare key you had given him weeks ago. He had come to check on you after the game, worried you might be tired or nauseous.The sight that greeted him made him freeze in the doorway. You were sprawled on the bed, shirt rucked up, pants around one ankle, legs spread. Your fingers were buried deep inside your glistening pussy, pumping frantically while your other hand squeezed your swollen breast. Your face was flushed with pleasure, lips parted in soft, desperate moans.
Heeseung’s breath caught. His cock hardened instantly in his sweatpants. For a second, it was painfully awkward. He should have left. He should have announced himself.But then your eyes fluttered open and locked onto him.You didn’t stop.Instead, your voice came out hoarse and pleading.“Heeseung… please.” He stepped closer, eyes dark with lust but still careful. “Are you sure?” he asked, voice rough. “You don’t have to—” “Please,” you whimpered, fingers still moving slowly inside yourself. “I can’t I need you. Please help me.” That was all it took.
Heeseung climbed onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs. He gently pulled your hand away, replacing it with his own. Two thick fingers slid into your soaked heat easily, curling perfectly against that spot that made you cry out. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, pumping his fingers steadily. His thumb found your swollen clit and rubbed tight circles. “Been thinking about me, baby?” You moaned loudly, hips bucking against his hand. He leaned down, sucking one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth while his fingers fucked you deeper, faster. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers thrusting into your dripping pussy filled the room.
Heeseung added a third finger, stretching you open, curling them just right. His mouth moved between your breasts, sucking and licking your swollen nipples until you were shaking.“I’m close—” you gasped, fingers threading through his hair. “Come for me,” he murmured against your skin, thumb pressing harder on your clit. Your orgasm crashed over you hard. You cried out, back arching, walls clenching tightly around his fingers as pleasure tore through you. Heeseung kept pumping his fingers through it, drawing out every wave until you were trembling and oversensitive.
But you still weren’t satisfied. You tugged at his shirt desperately. “More please, Heeseung. I need you inside me.” He didn’t hesitate. He pulled his fingers out, quickly stripping off his clothes. His cock sprang free thick, hard, and leaking at the tip. He positioned himself between your thighs, rubbing the head of his cock along your slick folds before slowly pushing in.
You both moaned as he sank deep inside you. He was gentle but firm, filling you completely in one smooth thrust. Heeseung groaned at how tight and wet you were, forehead dropping to yours.
“Fuck you feel so good,” he breathed, starting to move. He fucked you with deep, steady strokes, hips rolling against yours. One hand cradled your slightly bloated belly protectively while the other gripped your thigh, holding you open for him. The wet slap of skin and your mingled moans filled the room.
Heeseung kissed you deeply, tongue sliding against yours as he thrust harder, hitting that perfect spot inside you with every stroke. Your hands roamed his back, nails digging into his skin as another orgasm built fast. “Come again for me,” he whispered against your lips. “Let me feel you.”
You shattered around him with a cry, pussy clenching tightly around his cock. Heeseung groaned, thrusting a few more times before burying himself deep and coming hard inside you, hips jerking as he filled you with hot spurts of cum. He stayed inside you for a long moment, both of you breathing heavily. Then he gently pulled out and collapsed beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms. He kissed your forehead, then your temple, holding you close as you came down from the high.
You lay there afterward, breathing hard, body limp and glowing with the aftershocks of pleasure. Heeseung stayed buried inside you for a long moment, forehead pressed against yours, both of you catching your breath. His hand gently stroked your side, thumb brushing over the slight swell of your belly in a protective, almost reverent way.
Eventually, he pulled out slowly, a soft groan leaving his lips as he did. You winced at the sudden emptiness, but Heeseung was already moving, pulling you into his arms and tucking you against his chest.
He kissed your forehead, then your temple, holding you close as your breathing slowly evened out.
Neither of you spoke for a while. The only sounds in the room were your mingled breathing and the faint hum of the air conditioner. Heeseung’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low and rough. “…You should’ve told me it was getting this bad,” he murmured. “I would’ve helped sooner.” You buried your face in his neck, cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and lingering arousal. “I didn’t know how to say it. It’s humiliating. I feel like my body isn’t mine anymore.”
Heeseung tightened his arms around you. “It’s not humiliating. You’re pregnant. Your body is changing because of our baby. If you need me for anything just tell me. I’m right here.” You stayed silent, letting his warmth seep into you. The hormones were still humming under your skin, but the sharp edge of desperation had dulled into a comfortable, sated haze. After a few minutes, Heeseung gently pulled back so he could look at you. “You okay?” he asked softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You nodded. “Yeah, thank you.”
He smiled that small, genuine smile that made your chest feel strangely tight and kissed your forehead again. “Stay here. I’ll clean you up.” He got up, completely naked and unashamed, and returned moments later with a warm, damp cloth. He wiped you down gently between your legs, then cleaned himself before crawling back into bed and pulling you against his chest once more. You let yourself relax into him, one hand resting on your slightly rounded belly.
For the first time in weeks, the constant ache of need was quiet. But as you lay there in Heeseung’s arms, listening to his steady heartbeat, a new kind of nervousness settled in.
Because the line between “fake” and “real” was starting to blur dangerously fast. He held you close against his chest, one hand stroking soothing circles on your back while the other rested protectively over the small, soft swell of your belly. The room was quiet except for your slowing breaths and the faint hum of the city outside the window. You stayed like that for a while, skin warm and slightly damp, hearts still beating fast. Neither of you felt the need to speak right away. It felt strangely peaceful.
Eventually, Heeseung broke the silence, his voice low and soft against your hair. “I’ve been reading parenting books,” he murmured, fingers tracing lazy, comforting patterns along your spine. “A lot of them. What to Expect When You’re Expecting, guides on newborn care, nutrition during pregnancy everything I could find. I wanted to be prepared. For you and the baby.” You tilted your head up to look at him, genuinely surprised. “Really? You’ve been doing that?”
Heeseung nodded, a small, almost shy smile touching his lips. “Yeah. I’ve been learning about the second trimester, what symptoms might get worse or better, how to support you when the nausea is bad, safe exercises, all of it. I don’t want to be clueless. I want to do this right.”
You felt a warm flutter in your chest. You hadn’t expected him to take it this seriously. Before you could respond, he continued gently, "And if you ever have any needs physical, emotional, anything at all I’ll always be there for you. Whether it’s holding you when you’re anxious, helping with the nausea, or anything else. Just tell me. Only if it’s okay with you, of course.” You hesitated for a second, then whispered, “Will that be okay with you? Because we aren’t really a couple.” Heeseung was quiet for a moment, then pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
“It’s okay with me,” he said simply. “I know we’re not traditional. But I care about you. And I care about our baby. So whatever you need, I’m here with no pressure , no expectations. Just me, showing up for both of you.” The sincerity in his voice made your eyes sting with tears. You buried your face in his neck, nodding against his skin. The conversation flowed easily after that quiet, honest, and surprisingly comfortable. You told him about your fears of balancing university with pregnancy, how scared you were about telling more people, and how overwhelmed you sometimes felt by the changes in your body.
Heeseung listened without interrupting, rubbing your back the whole time. He shared his own worries too the pressure from his father, his fears about balancing basketball and fatherhood, and how he sometimes felt unprepared but determined to try his best.
Eventually, the talking slowed. Heeseung shifted lower on the bed, resting his cheek gently against your bare belly. He looked up at you with soft, questioning eyes. “Can I talk to the baby?” he asked quietly. “If that’s okay with you.” Your throat tightened with emotion. You nodded.
Heeseung smiled faintly and pressed a soft kiss to the small swell of your stomach. Then, in a low, gentle voice, he spoke “Hey, Bambi it’s me your dad. I know things are a little complicated right now, but I want you to know I’m really happy you’re here. I’m going to take care of you and your mom, okay? We’ve got you. Both of us.” You felt tears slip down your cheeks as you watched him. Heeseung stayed there for a while, murmuring soft promises and little stories to your belly, his hand resting protectively over it.
When he finally crawled back up, he pulled you into his arms again, skin to skin, warm and safe. You tucked your face against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. You both fell asleep like that completely naked, wrapped around each other, his hand resting protectively over your stomach where Bambi was growing. For the first time in a long while, the future didn’t feel quite so terrifying.
The next morning, you woke up slowly, blinking against the soft sunlight filtering through your curtains. Your body felt heavy in that familiar, exhausted way the pregnancy making even sleep feel like it wasn’t quite enough. You reached out instinctively to the other side of the bed, expecting warmth, expecting Heeseung’s arm around you like it had been when you fell asleep. But the bed was empty. The sheets where he had lain were cool. He must have left a while ago.
You sat up slowly, rubbing your eyes, and noticed a small yellow post it note stuck to the lamp on your nightstand. You reached for it, heart giving a little flutter as you read his neat handwriting
“Made breakfast for you. It’s in the fridge mild porridge with ginger and some fruit. Please eat it before you go to classes. Had some early work with the team, had to leave. Text me when you wake up. Take care of yourself and Bambi today. - Heeseung”
You stared at the note for a long moment, thumb brushing over his name. A strange mix of emotions washed over you warmth, gratitude, and that familiar flutter of confusion in your chest. He had cooked for you again, even though he had practice. Even though he left early. Even though he didn’t have to. You placed the post-it carefully on the nightstand and got out of bed. Your hand instinctively moved to rest on your slightly bloated belly as you walked to the kitchen. True to his word, there was a container in the fridge with perfectly portioned porridge and fresh-cut fruit on the side. A small bottle of ginger tea sat beside it.
You heated the porridge and sat at your small table, eating slowly. The food was gentle on your stomach, exactly what you needed. As you ate, your mind replayed the events of last night the way Heeseung had held you, the way he had talked to your belly, the quiet honesty between you two.It was getting harder to remember that this was all supposed to be fake.
Your phone buzzed on the table. A message from Heeseung.
Heeseung : Did you wake up? Did you eat?
You smiled faintly and replied.
You : Just woke up eating breakfast now thank you
Heeseung : Good let me know how you’re feeling today. I’ll try to finish early so I can bring dinner
You put your phone down and continued eating, one hand still resting on your belly. The reality of your situation felt heavier every day. You were three months pregnant. You were pretending to date the guy you used to hate. You were slowly letting him into your life in ways you never expected. And yet it didn’t feel as terrifying as it once did. After finishing breakfast, you got ready for classes, loose clothes to hide the small curve of your belly, comfortable shoes, and your usual hoodie. Before leaving, you glanced at the post-it note again, then carefully folded it and tucked it into your bag.
As you locked your apartment door, you couldn’t help but think about how much had changed in such a short time. Heeseung was becoming someone you relied on. And you weren’t sure how you felt about that yet.
Heeseung woke up slowly, warmth surrounding him. You were still asleep in his arms, face tucked against his chest, one hand resting lightly on his stomach. Your breathing was soft and even, your body relaxed against his in a way that made his heart feel too big for his chest. The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over your face. He smiled a small, private, uncontrollably happy smile.
He was so happy.
Waking up like this, with you curled into him, knowing there was a tiny life growing between you it felt like something he didn’t deserve but would fight to keep. For the first time in a long time, the future didn’t feel like pressure. It felt like hope. His phone vibrated on the nightstand. Heeseung’s smile faded slightly when he saw the caller ID Dad.
He carefully slipped his arm from under you, moving slowly so he wouldn’t wake you. You stirred a little but settled back into the pillow with a soft sigh. Heeseung watched you for a second longer, heart clenching with affection, before he grabbed his phone and quietly left the room, closing the bedroom door behind him.He answered the call in the living room, voice low.“Hey, Dad.” Instead of a greeting, his father’s sharp voice cut through immediately.
“So it’s true? You have a girlfriend now? And you’re wasting your time on her instead of focusing on the league?” Heeseung’s jaw tightened. He leaned against the kitchen counter, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m serious about her, Dad,” he said, voice steady but firm. “I want to marry her.” A harsh scoff came through the line. “Marry her? You don’t think about getting into the league, about your future, about everything I’ve sacrificed for you but you think about marriage? With some girl who’s probably just using you for your name?”
Heeseung stayed silent for a moment, letting the familiar sting of his father’s words wash over him. He didn’t argue. He knew it was pointless. His dad continued, tone cold and commanding. “I want to meet her and bring her for Thanksgiving. We’ll see what kind of girl managed to distract you this badly.”
Heeseung exhaled slowly. “Sure. I’ll bring her.” The line went dead without another word.
Heeseung lowered the phone, staring at the black screen for a long moment. The happiness he had felt waking up with you in his arms was still there, but now it was shadowed by the familiar weight of his father’s expectations. He walked back to the bedroom quietly and stood in the doorway for a while, watching you sleep. Your hand had moved to rest on your belly in your sleep a small, protective gesture that made his chest ache with tenderness. Heeseung smiled softly despite everything. Thanksgiving was going to be complicated. But for you and Bambi he would face it he always would.
A few days had passed since that emotional night.
Your life had slowly started to find a strange new rhythm. Mornings often began with Heeseung’s quiet knocks or a text asking how you slept. He still brought you breakfast on most days, always something gentle on your stomach. The nausea was still present but no longer as violent. Your belly had grown just a little more noticeable, a soft curve that you hid under oversized hoodies and loose sweaters.
Today was your checkup. You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the oversized sweater over your belly.
Three months and a few days. The doctor had said everything looked good at the last visit, but you were still nervous every time. You gently placed a hand over your stomach, feeling the slight firmness there.
Bambi. The nickname made you smile despite the nerves. Your phone buzzed on the counter.
Heeseung : I’m outside ready when you are no rush
You took a deep breath, grabbed your bag, and headed downstairs. Heeseung was waiting by his car, leaning against the door in a casual black hoodie and jeans. The moment he saw you, his expression softened into that small, genuine smile he seemed to reserve only for you lately. “Hey,” he said, opening the passenger door for you. “How are you feeling today?”
“Better than yesterday,” you replied, sliding in. “Still a little nauseous in the mornings, but not as bad.”
Heeseung nodded, closing the door gently before getting into the driver’s seat. The drive to the clinic was quiet but comfortable. He asked about your classes, about whether the fatigue had eased, and told you a light story about Beomgyu messing up a drill during practice. You found yourself smiling more than you expected.
A few days later, you had your regular checkup.
Dr. Kim was as kind and patient as always. She did a quick scan, confirmed that everything was progressing normally, and then smiled warmly at both of you. “Everything looks great. The baby is growing well. At your next appointment, around the four month mark, we should be able to determine the gender if you’d like to know. Would you be interested in finding out?” You glanced at Heeseung. He looked at you with soft eyes, waiting for your decision.
You nodded slowly. “Yes I think I’d like to know.”
Heeseung’s hand gently squeezed yours. Dr. Kim smiled and scheduled the next appointment before sending you off with more prenatal vitamins and advice on managing fatigue. After leaving the clinic, Heeseung turned to you in the car. “There’s a movie showing that looked pretty light, not too intense want to go? Just the two of us.” You agreed. The theatre was dimly lit and not very crowded. You chose seats near the back, a little more private. Heeseung bought snacks you could handle plain popcorn and ginger ale and settled in beside you.
The movie started, but your mind was elsewhere.
The pregnancy hormones had been relentless lately. Your body felt hypersensitive. Every brush of his arm against yours, every time his thigh pressed against yours in the seat, sent heat pooling low in your belly. You tried to focus on the screen, but your eyes kept drifting to him the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hand rested on his thigh, the subtle scent of his cologne. You couldn’t fight it. Halfway through the movie, when the theatre was dark and quiet, you leaned over and whispered in his ear.
“Heeseung…” He turned his head slightly. “Yeah?”
Instead of answering with words, you reached over and slowly slid your hand onto his thigh. He tensed, but didn’t stop you. Your fingers moved higher, palming him through his jeans. He was already half hard. His breath hitched. “Baby what are you doing?”
You didn’t answer. You quietly unzipped his jeans, reached inside, and pulled his cock out. He was thick and warm in your hand. You stroked him slowly at first, feeling him harden fully under your touch.
Heeseung’s hand gripped the armrest. “Fuck are you sure?”
You nodded, already sliding down in your seat. You leaned over, taking him into your mouth. Heeseung sucked in a sharp breath, his hand gently threading through your hair. You took him deeper, tongue swirling around the head before sliding down his length. He was big you had to go slow, relaxing your throat to take more of him. The salty taste of his precum coated your tongue as you bobbed your head, sucking him with wet, quiet sounds.
Heeseung’s breathing grew heavier. He tried to stay quiet, biting his lip, but soft, low groans escaped him whenever you sucked harder or swirled your tongue just right. His fingers tightened in your hair, not pushing, just holding on. “You’re gonna kill me,” he whispered, voice strained. “So fucking good”
You took him as deep as you could, hollowing your cheeks, one hand stroking what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. His hips twitched slightly, fighting the urge to thrust. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, getting closer.
When he finally came, it was with a quiet, choked groan. Hot spurts filled your mouth as you swallowed around him, milking him through it. Heeseung’s hand trembled in your hair, breathing ragged. You pulled off slowly, licking your lips as you sat back up. Heeseung looked at you with dark, stunned eyes, chest rising and falling quickly. He quickly tucked himself back into his jeans, then pulled you close, kissing your temple. “Fuck… that was…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence.
You smiled shyly, cheeks warm, heart still racing.
The rest of the movie passed in a haze. Heeseung kept his arm around you, thumb gently stroking your shoulder, occasionally pressing soft kisses to your hair. When the credits rolled, he leaned in and whispered, “Let’s get you home.”
The car ride back to the apartment was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Heeseung’s hand occasionally brushed against yours on the center console, a small, reassuring touch that made your chest feel strangely warm. You were still replaying the movie in your head or at least pretending to while your body hummed with the memory of what you had done in the theatre. When you reached your building, Heeseung parked and walked you up to your door like he always did now. But instead of saying goodnight, he lingered in the hallway.
“Can I come in?” he asked softly. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” You nodded, unlocking the door and letting him inside. The apartment was dimly lit, the only light coming from the small lamp on the side table. You both took off your shoes and sat down on the couch. Heeseung turned to face you, looking a little tense. He took a slow breath before speaking.
“My family wants to meet you,” he said. “During Thanksgiving. My dad specifically asked me to bring you.” You blinked, processing the words. Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away. “Oh,” you said quietly. “Are we going to reveal the pregnancy then?”
Heeseung nodded, eyes steady on yours. “Yeah I think it’s time. They deserve to know.” You sat there for a moment, letting the idea settle. A small, nervous smile crossed your face. “I know they’ll be happy,” you said, trying to sound optimistic. “My parents were over the moon when I told them. Yours will probably be excited too, right? A grandbaby and everything”
Heeseung didn’t reply right away. He looked down at his hands, jaw tightening just slightly. You didn’t notice the way his shoulders tensed or the brief flash of worry in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said eventually, voice quiet. “They’ll be happy.”But inside, Heeseung knew the truth.His father wouldn’t be happy. Not even close. The man who had spent years pressuring him to be better than his older brother, who had made it clear that basketball and the NBA were the only priorities that man was going to see this as a distraction. A mistake. A threat to everything he had planned for Heeseung’s future.
Heeseung could already imagine the cold disappointment in his father’s voice, the sharp questions, the comparisons to his perfect older brother who had never “messed up” like this.But he didn’t say any of that to you. Instead, he reached over and gently took your hand, squeezing it. “We’ll face it together,” he said softly. “Okay?” You nodded, leaning into his side a little. You still believed his family would be supportive like yours had been. You had no idea about the tension that existed between Heeseung and his father.
Heeseung wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you there for a long moment.For now, he would let you believe everything would be fine.He would carry the worry alone. Because no matter how his parents reacted, one thing was certain he was going to protect you and Bambi no matter what.
The weeks that followed settled into a rhythm you never expected and one you were desperately trying not to get used to. Heeseung was always there. Quietly, steadily, without making a big deal out of it. He’d show up in the mornings with breakfast he’d prepared before practice, simple things like warm ginger porridge or toast with honey that your stomach could actually handle. Some days he’d stay longer than usual, sitting on the edge of your bed while you ate, watching you with that soft look in his eyes that made your chest feel tight. You told yourself it was just the pregnancy making you emotional.
One morning, after a particularly rough night of nausea, you woke up feeling miserable. Heeseung had let himself in with the spare key. Without saying much, he pulled you into the shower with him, washing your hair with gentle fingers while the warm water ran over both of you. The closeness, the steam, the way his body felt against yours , it ignited something fierce. You ended up pressed against the tiled wall, legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked you slow and deep, water cascading over your joined bodies. He whispered against your neck how beautiful you looked like this, carrying his baby, and you came so hard you saw stars.
Afterward, he dried you off, carried you back to bed, and held you until you fell asleep again. You told yourself it was just hormones. Just physical need nothing more. Another afternoon, you came home from classes exhausted and emotionally drained. Heeseung was already waiting inside, having cooked a light dinner. You barely ate two bites before the tears started. He didn’t ask questions. He just pulled you onto his lap on the couch, kissing you softly at first, then deeper, hungrier. You ended up riding him right there, slow and desperate, his hands cradling your slightly rounded belly the entire time.
He looked up at you like you were the only thing in his world, groaning your name when he came inside you. You hid your face in his shoulder afterward, heart racing for reasons you refused to name. There were quieter moments too. One night, when the anxiety hit you hard, you texted him at 2 a.m. He showed up minutes later, crawling into bed with you fully clothed. He held you close, rubbing your back, kissing your forehead repeatedly until you calmed down.
That night turned heated too you ended up on top of him again, moving slowly in the dark, his hands gentle on your hips as he whispered how strong you were. You came with his name on your lips and tried to convince yourself it didn’t mean anything. Heeseung started leaving little notes everywhere. “Drink water for Bambi.” “You’re doing amazing today.” “Text me when you’re home.” He’d read parenting books late at night and tell you random facts over dinner what week the baby could hear your voice, how to tell if the nausea was improving, safe positions for intimacy during pregnancy.
You’d watch him cook in your kitchen, sleeves rolled up, humming softly under his breath, and feel something dangerously warm bloom in your chest. You told yourself it was just the hormones making you soft. But it was getting harder to lie to yourself. One lazy Sunday afternoon, you were both on the couch watching a movie. Heeseung’s hand rested on your belly, thumb stroking absentmindedly. The simple touch turned into slow kisses, then heated touches.
You ended up straddling him, riding him deep and slow while the movie played in the background. He kept one hand on your belly the whole time, eyes locked on yours, whispering how much he loved seeing you like this. When you came, trembling in his arms, you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from saying something you couldn’t take back. You were trying so hard not to admit it.Every forehead kiss made your stomach flutter. Every time he cooked for you or held you through a crying spell, your heart felt too full.
Every night he stayed over, wrapped around you naked and warm, you had to remind yourself this is just for the baby. This isn’t real. I don’t like him like that.But deep down, you knew the truth was slipping away from you. You were starting to like Lee Heeseung the real him. The one who showed up without being asked. The one who read parenting books at 3 a.m. The one who looked at you like you were carrying something precious. And you had no idea what to do with that.
The day of Heeseung’s game arrived faster than you expected. It was the last match before the team’s short break for Thanksgiving, and you had agreed to go with Yunjin and Soobin. You were three months along now, your belly softly rounded under an oversized hoodie with Heeseung’s jersey number hidden beneath. The nausea had eased a bit, but the hormones still made everything feel more intense emotions, touches, even the cheers from the crowd.
You sat in the stands between your friends, heart fluttering with a mix of nervousness and something warmer you refused to name. Yunjin was practically bouncing in her seat, waving a small handmade sign that said “GO HEESUNG!” while Soobin sat calmly beside you, occasionally glancing at you with quiet concern. The game started strong, but it quickly became clear that today wasn’t their day.
Heeseung played hard you could see the determination on his face every time he drove to the basket or called out plays. But the opposing team was on fire, and your university’s defense kept slipping. By halftime, they were down by 8 points. The crowd grew restless. You found yourself gripping the star shaped squishy toy he had given you, squeezing it tightly every time Heeseung missed a shot or got blocked.
In the second half, things got worse. Heeseung fought until the final buzzer, but the team lost by 14 points.
The arena was quiet as the final score flashed on the screen. You felt a pang in your chest watching Heeseung stand on the court, shoulders slightly slumped, sweat dripping from his hair. He looked disappointed but not broken, still the captain, still trying to rally his teammates with claps on the back and quiet words.
After the teams shook hands and the crowd started to disperse, you told Yunjin and Soobin you’d meet them later. You made your way down toward the court area, heart beating faster as you waited near the tunnel.
Heeseung emerged a few minutes later, freshly showered, hair still damp. The moment his eyes found you, his expression softened. He walked straight to you, ignoring the few lingering people around.
Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck. You hugged him back tightly, one hand rubbing his back, the other resting on the back of his head.
“You played really well,” you whispered. “I’m proud of you.”He let out a heavy breath against your skin. “We fucked up today. I fucked up.” “You didn’t,” you said gently, pulling back just enough to look at him. “You fought until the end. That’s what captains do. One bad game doesn’t change how good you are.”
Heeseung searched your eyes for a moment, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there. His arms stayed wrapped around your waist, careful not to press too hard on your belly.
“Thank you for coming,” he murmured. “Means a lot.”
You stayed like that for a while, letting him hold you in the quiet hallway outside the locker room. A few of his teammates walked past, but no one said anything. The public affection felt natural now part of the “fake” image you were both maintaining. But the way he held you felt anything but fake.When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours. “We leave for my parents’ place in two days,” he said quietly. “You still okay with going?”
You nodded, even though nerves twisted in your stomach. “Yeah. We’ll face it together.”Heeseung smiled faintly and kissed your forehead one more time before letting you go.“I’ll see you later. Get some rest, okay? For you and Bambi.”You watched him walk back toward the locker room, heart doing that annoying flutter again.You told yourself it was just the pregnancy.Just hormones. But as you walked back to meet Yunjin and Soobin, you couldn’t ignore how safe you felt in his arms or how much you were starting to crave that feeling.
The arena slowly emptied as you, Soobin, and Yunjin made your way out into the cool night air. The loss still lingered in the atmosphere, but the walk back felt lighter thanks to your friends’ company. Yunjin was practically glowing Sunghoon had offered to drop her home after the game, and she couldn’t stop smiling about it. “I’ll see you guys later!” she called out, waving excitedly as Sunghoon’s car pulled up. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Soobin chuckled softly beside you as you both continued walking toward your apartment building.
The streets were quieter now, the distant cheers from the arena fading behind you. Soobin walked at your pace, hands in his pockets, glancing at you every few steps.After a comfortable silence, he spoke gently. “So you and Heeseung, huh?” You kept your eyes on the sidewalk, fingers fiddling with the hem of your oversized hoodie. “Yeah I guess so.” Soobin nodded slowly. “He seems different with you. Nicer I’ve seen how he looks at you during games. How he checks on you. It’s not what I expected.”
You smiled faintly, thinking about the way Heeseung had hugged you after the match, the soft kiss on your forehead, the way he always made sure you ate something gentle on your stomach. “He’s been really good to me,” you admitted quietly. “He brings me food that doesn’t make me sick. He checks on me every day. He even reads parenting books e’s trying a lot.”
Soobin was quiet for a moment, processing. Then he asked the question you’d been dreading. “Do you actually love him?” You hesitated.
The words got stuck in your throat. Your heart raced as memories flashed through your mind Heeseung holding you while you cried, cooking for you at 2 a.m., kissing your belly and whispering to Bambi, the way he looked at you like you mattered.You forced a small laugh, trying to sound casual. “Obviously duh.” Soobin stopped walking. He turned to face you fully under a streetlight, his expression soft but serious.
“It just feels really sudden,” he said gently. “One minute you hated him. You used to complain about him every single day. And now you’re dating him and pregnant with his child. It’s a lot to take in. Are you sure you’re okay?” You looked down at your shoes, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. The truth sat heavy in your chest you weren’t sure if you loved him. You were still trying so hard not to admit how much he was starting to mean to you. The hormones made everything confusing. The pregnancy made everything terrifying. And Heeseung himself made everything feel safe.
“I’m figuring it out,” you said quietly. “It’s complicated. But he’s been there for me for us.” Soobin nodded, not pushing any further. He simply walked beside you the rest of the way, offering his quiet, steady presence like he always did. When you reached your apartment building, he gave you a gentle hug. “I’m happy for you if you’re happy,” he said softly. “But if you ever need to talk I’m here. No judgment.” You hugged him back tightly, grateful beyond words. “Thank you, Soobin.”
As you walked up to your door alone, you leaned against it for a moment, hand resting on your belly.
You were still trying so hard not to admit it.
But every day, it was getting harder to lie to yourself.
You finally reached your apartment after the long walk back with Soobin and Yunjin. The moment the door closed behind you, the exhaustion of the day the game, the stares, the emotions settled heavily on your shoulders. You kicked off your shoes, changed into an oversized t-shirt, and crawled into bed. Before turning off the lights, you picked up your phone and texted Heeseung.
You : Reached home going to sleep now goodnight
You set the phone on the nightstand and turned off the lamp, pulling the blanket up to your chin. But sleep didn’t come. Thirty minutes passed. Then forty. You tossed and turned, mind racing with thoughts of the game, the whispers you’d heard, the weight of the secret you were still carrying, and the tiny life growing inside you. The pregnancy hormones made everything feel louder your emotions, your body, your worries. You heard the soft click of the front door opening. Heeseung must have used the spare key you’d given him.
A few seconds later, he appeared in the doorway of your bedroom, silhouetted by the faint hallway light. He looked tired from the game but his expression softened the moment he saw you.“You’re still awake?” he asked gently.You sat up slowly, hugging your knees to your chest. Your voice came out small and tired.“I can’t sleep…”
Heeseung didn’t hesitate. He walked over, kicked off his shoes, and climbed onto the bed beside you. Without a word, you raised your arms toward him. “Cuddles please?” Heeseung’s face softened even more. He pulled you into his arms immediately, wrapping you up against his chest.
One of his hands rested protectively over your small belly while the other stroked your back in slow, soothing circles. “Anything for my baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
The word “baby” made your heart skip. You knew this was all supposed to be fake the relationship, the affection, everything. He shouldn’t be calling you that. But you didn’t correct him. You just burrowed deeper into his chest, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat calm the storm inside you. Heeseung held you tighter, chin resting on top of your head. “Rough day?” he asked softly.
You nodded against him. “The game the stares everything feels too much sometimes.” “I know,” he murmured. “But you did good today. You were there for me. That means a lot.” You stayed silent, just letting him hold you. His hand continued its gentle strokes on your back, occasionally drifting to rub small circles over your belly. The simple touch made something warm bloom in your chest, something you quickly pushed down. It’s just hormones, you reminded yourself. This isn’t real. But it felt real.
Heeseung shifted slightly, pulling the blanket higher over both of you.
“Sleep now,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. Both of you.” You closed your eyes, safe in his arms, and finally drifted off. Heeseung stayed awake a little longer, holding you close, his hand never leaving your belly. He pressed one last soft kiss to your forehead before letting sleep take him too. In the quiet darkness of your apartment, wrapped in each other, the line between fake and real blurred a little more.
Heeseung lay awake in the dark, long after you had fallen asleep in his arms. Your head rested on his chest, breath warm and steady against his skin. One of your hands had unconsciously curled into his shirt, holding on even in sleep. His own hand stayed protectively over the small, soft swell of your belly where Bambi was growing. He could feel the faint warmth of your body, the subtle rise and fall of your breathing, and it made something deep and fierce bloom in his chest. He was so fucking happy.
It was terrifying how happy he was.This wasn’t the kind of happiness he was used to the rush of winning a game, the high of a party, the fleeting satisfaction of a random hookup. This was quieter and deeper. It settled in his bones and refused to leave. He had never imagined himself here lying in bed with the girl who used to hate him, holding her while she carried his child. But now that he was, he couldn’t picture anything else.
His thumb traced slow, gentle circles over your belly Bambi. The nickname still made him smile every time he thought about it. He remembered the first time he felt the baby move just a tiny flutter that you had grabbed his hand for. That moment had wrecked him in the best way. He had stayed up half the night after that, reading every article he could find about fetal movement, what it meant, how to support you through the coming months. He was falling in love with the baby. But he was also falling in love with you and that part scared him more.
He had always been honest with himself about girls before they were fun, temporary, never serious. But you were different. You had always been different. Even when you were yelling at him through the wall, even when you called him entitled and cocky, you looked at him like he was just a person. Not the basketball captain. Not the guy with the rich dad. Just… him and now? Now you let him hold you. You let him cook for you. You let him talk to your belly and kiss your forehead and stay the night when you were anxious. You were slowly opening up to him in ways he never thought you would.
Heeseung pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, breathing you in. He remembered the night he asked you to marry him. The way you had laughed at first, then looked at him with wide, shocked eyes. The rejection had hurt more than he let on. Not because his ego was bruised, but because for one brief, stupid moment, he had let himself imagine a future where you chose him too.
But he respected your decision. He wouldn’t force you to love him. He wouldn’t trap you in something you didn’t want. If all you could give him right now was this, these quiet nights, these shared moments, this careful co-parenting he would take it. He would take anything you were willing to give. Still he couldn’t stop the quiet hope that bloomed in his chest every time you smiled at him. Every time you leaned into his touch. Every time you fell asleep in his arms like you belonged there.
Heeseung closed his eyes, holding you a little tighter.
He didn’t know what the future held, especially with his father waiting at Thanksgiving, ready to judge and criticize. But for the first time in his life, he felt like he had something worth fighting for you and Bambi.
This strange, messy, beautiful thing growing between you. He was going to protect it. Even if you never loved him back the same way. Even if this was all still “fake” to you. Heeseung whispered against your hair, so quietly he barely heard it himself “I’ve got you both.” And in the dark, with you safe in his arms, he let himself believe it was enough for now.
ꪆ୧ ─── ドラマ.
The drive to Heeseung’s parents’ house felt longer than it should have. It was the day before Thanksgiving, and the highway stretched out in front of you, lined with trees that were slowly turning bare for winter. You sat in the passenger seat of Heeseung’s car, hands resting on your lap, occasionally drifting to the small, rounded curve of your belly under your oversized sweater. Three months and two weeks. The bump was undeniable now if you weren’t careful, but you still hid it as best as you could.
Heeseung drove with one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally brushing against yours on the center console. The radio played softly in the background some acoustic playlist he had put on because he knew loud music sometimes made your nausea worse these days. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy. You could feel the weight of what was coming. Meeting his parents. Revealing the pregnancy. Pretending to be in a real relationship when everything still felt so fragile and confusing.
You glanced at him. He looked calm on the surface focused on the road, jaw relaxed but you noticed the way his fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel. He was nervous too. “Are you okay?” you asked quietly. Heeseung gave you a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah just thinking about how this is going to go.” He paused, then added, “My dad can be intense. He has high expectations. But my mom will probably be happy to see you. She’s been asking about you since I told them I was bringing someone.”
You nodded, looking out the window again. Your hand unconsciously rubbed small circles over your belly.
“I’m nervous,” you admitted after a while. “What if they don’t like me? What if they think I’m just some girl who trapped you?” Heeseung reached over and gently took your hand, squeezing it once before returning his to the wheel. “They’re not going to think that,” he said, voice steady. “And even if they do it doesn’t matter. This is about us and Bambi not them.”
You stayed quiet, but his words settled something warm in your chest. You tried to ignore it. It’s just hormones, you told yourself again. Don’t get attached.
The car ride continued with small talk to fill the silence. Heeseung asked about your capstone project, about whether the nausea had gotten any better, about what you wanted to eat when you got there. You asked him about his basketball schedule after the break, about whether he was excited to see his mom. The conversation was easy, almost domestic, and that scared you more than the upcoming meeting. At one point, Heeseung reached over and rested his hand on your thigh not sexual, just comforting. You let it stay there.
Halfway through the drive, he spoke again, voice softer. “Thank you for doing this with me,” he said. “I know it’s a lot. Meeting my family pretending all of it. But I’m glad it’s you.” Your heart did that annoying little flip again. You looked down at your lap, cheeks warming. “Yeah me too,” you whispered. The rest of the drive passed in comfortable quiet. Heeseung kept the music low, occasionally humming along. Every now and then his hand would find yours again, giving it a gentle squeeze.
When the familiar gates of his parents’ large, modern house came into view, your stomach twisted with nerves. Heeseung parked the car and turned to you, his expression serious but kind.“You ready?” he asked.
You took a deep breath and nodded.“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Heeseung leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead the same gentle gesture he had been giving you more and more lately. “We’ve got this,” he murmured against your skin. “Together.”
You stepped out of the car with him, heart pounding, hand instinctively resting on your belly as you walked toward the front door of his family home. Thanksgiving had officially begun. The walk from the car to the front door felt longer than it should have. Your hand instinctively rested on your belly under the oversized sweater, a small, protective gesture you’d developed over the past few weeks. The house was beautiful, modern, large, with clean lines and big windows that glowed warmly from the inside. It looked expensive. Intimidating.
Heeseung walked beside you, his hand lightly brushing against yours before he gently took it. His grip was warm and steady.“You okay?” he asked quietly. You nodded, even though your stomach was twisting with nerves. “Just a little scared.”
He squeezed your hand. “I’ve got you. We’ll do this together.”Before you could respond, the front door opened. A woman in her late 40s stepped out, elegant and poised, with sharp features softened by a warm smile. She had Heeseung’s dark eyes. This had to be his mom.
“Heeseung!” she called out happily, walking down the steps to meet you both. She pulled her son into a tight hug first. “My baby. You look tired. Have you been eating properly?” Heeseung hugged her back. “I’m fine, Mom.”Then she turned to you, her expression softening even more. “You must be the girl my son has been talking about,” she said warmly, stepping forward to pull you into a gentle hug. She smelled like expensive perfume and fresh flowers. “I’m Heeseung’s mom. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
You hugged her back, surprised by how kind her embrace felt. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Lee.”
She pulled back but kept her hands on your shoulders, studying your face with genuine curiosity and warmth.“Please, call me Eunae,” she said. “Come inside, both of you. It’s cold out here.” She ushered you both into the house. The interior was even more impressive high ceilings, modern furniture, and a large living room that opened into a beautiful kitchen. The smell of something delicious cooking drifted from the kitchen. Eunae led you to the living room and gestured for you to sit on the large, comfortable sofa.
“Heeseung told us you’d be coming,” she said, sitting across from you with a soft smile. “I’ve been looking forward to this. He doesn’t bring girls home often, you know.” You felt your cheeks warm. Heeseung sat beside you, close enough that his thigh pressed against yours. Eunae asked gentle questions about your studies, your dreams of becoming an art curator, how you and Heeseung had started dating. You answered carefully, sticking to the story you two had rehearsed. She listened with genuine interest, occasionally glancing at Heeseung with a proud but slightly worried look.
Dinner was almost ready, she said. As she stood up to check on the food, she smiled at both of you.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” she said quietly. “Both of you. This house has been too quiet lately.”You smiled back, feeling a little less nervous. But the tension in the air was still there the knowledge that Heeseung’s dad was somewhere in the house, and that the real test was yet to come.Heeseung squeezed your hand again, as if sensing your thoughts. “We’ve got this,” he whispered when his mom left the room. You nodded, leaning into his side just a little.For now, you were safe.
Later at dinner the dining table was beautifully set. Heeseung’s mom had prepared a generous spread grilled meat, fresh vegetables, rice, and several side dishes. His dad sat at the head of the table, a tall, imposing man with sharp eyes and a serious expression. He had greeted you politely but coolly when you first arrived. The conversation started light. Eunae asked more about your studies. His dad asked about basketball. Heeseung answered calmly, his hand occasionally brushing yours under the table for reassurance.
Then, halfway through the meal, Heeseung cleared his throat. “Mom. Dad,” he said, voice steady but serious. “There’s something we need to tell you.”
Both parents looked at him. Eunae’s expression was curious. His dad’s was already guarded.Heeseung reached over and took your hand openly on the table.
“She’s pregnant,” he said. “Three months along. The baby is mine.” The silence that followed was heavy.
Eunae’s eyes widened, then filled with tears. She brought a hand to her mouth. “Oh a grandbaby?”
The dining room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence after Heeseung’s announcement. Eunae’s eyes were wide with surprise, then quickly filled with happy tears. She brought a hand to her mouth, whispering, “A grandbaby oh, Heeseung” But his father’s reaction was ice cold.Mr. Lee set his chopsticks down with a sharp clack. His eyes narrowed on Heeseung, then flicked to you with clear disapproval. “Pregnant,” he repeated, voice low and cutting. “You got this girl pregnant while you’re supposed to be focusing on your future in the league? Are you serious right now?”
Heeseung’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. “Yes. We’re keeping the baby.” Mr. Lee let out a harsh, disbelieving scoff. He leaned back in his chair, looking at his son like he was a disappointment he could barely stand. “Of course you are. Because that’s what you do, isn’t it? Make reckless decisions and expect everyone else to clean up after you.” His voice grew sharper, colder. “Your brother Heedo never did anything like this. He stayed focused. He trained hard. He made it pro without distractions. And you? You’re out here throwing away your career for some girl you barely know and a baby you’re not ready for.”
The words landed like punches.You felt Heeseung tense beside you, his hand gripping yours under the table. His shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t speak.
Mr. Lee wasn’t done. “You think you can handle this? You can’t even handle the pressure of being captain properly. Always distracted, always partying, always doing the bare minimum. Heedo was never like this. He was disciplined. He was excellent. And you you’re just average. Now you’ve gone and ruined your future before it even started.” The silence that followed was brutal.Eunae looked uncomfortable, glancing between her husband and son. Heeseung’s face was carefully blank
The silence that followed Mr. Lee’s words was brutal.
Eunae looked uncomfortable, her eyes darting between her husband and son. Heeseung’s face remained carefully blank, but you could feel the tension radiating from him the way his jaw clenched, the way his hand tightened around yours under the table. Mr. Lee leaned forward, voice dripping with disappointment. “You think you can handle a child? You can’t even handle yourself. Always chasing girls, throwing parties, wasting time instead of training like your brother did.
Heedo never let anything distract him. He made it pro because he was focused, disciplined, excellent and you? You’re average at best. Now you’ve gone and ruined your future before it even started all because you couldn’t keep it in your pants.” The words cut deep. You felt Heeseung flinch beside you, though he tried to hide it. Something inside you snapped.
You stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. Your heart was pounding, but your voice came out steady and sharp. “Enough.” Everyone at the table turned to look at you. Mr. Lee’s eyes narrowed.
“You don’t get to talk to him like that,” you said, voice trembling with anger but clear. “Heeseung has been working incredibly hard. He’s been there for me every single day since we found out about the baby. He’s reading parenting books, adjusting his schedule, taking care of me when I’m sick all while still being the captain of his team. He’s trying his best, and that’s more than enough.” You looked at Heeseung, who was staring at you with wide, surprised eyes. “We’re leaving,” you said firmly, taking his hand. “We don’t have to sit here and listen to this.”
Heeseung stood up beside you without hesitation. Eunae looked torn, but she didn’t stop you. Mr. Lee’s face was red with anger, but you didn’t give him a chance to speak. “Thank you for dinner,” you said politely but coldly to Eunae. “But we’re done here.”
You pulled Heeseung toward the door. He followed without a word, his hand warm and tight around yours. The moment you stepped outside, the cool night air hit your face. You didn’t stop walking until you reached his car. Only then did you turn to him.
Heeseung looked stunned. His eyes were glassy, and for the first time, you saw raw vulnerability on his face.
“You stood up for me,” he whispered. You squeezed his hand. “Of course I did. He had no right to talk to you like that.” Heeseung pulled you into his arms right there in the driveway, hugging you tightly. You felt him exhale shakily against your hair. “Thank you,” he murmured. “I I don’t know what to say.” You hugged him back just as tightly, your hand resting on his back.
As you both drove away from his parents’ house, the silence in the car was heavy but not cold. Heeseung reached over and took your hand again, holding it the entire drive back. For the first time, you didn’t pull away. And for the first time, you didn’t tell yourself it was just hormones.
The drive back to the apartment complex was quiet.
Heeseung kept one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally brushing against yours on the center console. Neither of you said much. The weight of his father’s cruel words still hung heavy in the car, and you could feel the exhaustion radiating from him. His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight, and every now and then he let out a slow, controlled breath like he was trying to push the night’s events away.
When he finally parked in front of the building, it was already well past midnight. The hallway lights were dim, casting long shadows across the floor as you both walked up to your doors in silence. The air felt cooler now, the kind of late-night chill that made you pull your jacket a little tighter around yourself.
Heeseung stopped in front of his own apartment, keys in hand. He looked tired drained in a way that went beyond the long day and the difficult dinner. His eyes were distant, like he was still replaying his father’s voice in his head.
“I think… I want to be alone tonight,” he said quietly, not quite meeting your eyes. “Just need some time to think.” You nodded, understanding. The night had been draining for both of you. You didn’t want to push him when he clearly needed space. “Okay,” you whispered. “Take care of yourself.” Before he could turn away, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. Heeseung stiffened for a second, surprised, then melted into it. His arms came around you, strong and warm, pulling you close.
You felt his face press into your hair, his breath shaky against your neck. For a long moment, you just held each other in the quiet hallway, the only sound being the faint hum of the building’s ventilation system.
When you finally pulled back, you rose onto your tiptoes and pressed a soft, lingering peck to his cheek. Your lips lingered there for a second longer than necessary, feeling the warmth of his skin.
Heeseung froze. His eyes widened slightly as he looked at you, surprised and something else, something softer, almost vulnerable. Why did you do that? you thought, heart racing. This is all supposed to be fake right? But you couldn’t deny it anymore.
You were in love with him. The realization hit you like a wave as you stood there in the dim hallway.
You loved Lee Heeseung not just because of the baby, not just because of the way he took care of you, but because of him. The man who showed up without being asked. The man who read parenting books at 3 a.m. The man who held you when you cried, kissed your forehead like it was the most natural thing in the world, and made you feel safe in a way no one else ever had. You wanted to build a family with him. You wanted the quiet nights, the shared meals, the gentle way he spoke to your belly. You wanted him.
The thought terrified you and warmed you at the same time. Heeseung lingered for a second longer, eyes searching yours, before he gave you a small, tired smile. “Goodnight,” he whispered. “Goodnight,” you replied softly. He disappeared into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. You stood there alone for a moment, heart still racing, before walking into your own place. You locked the door, leaned against it, and let out a long, shaky breath.
You’re in love with him, you admitted to yourself, pressing a hand to your chest. You want this. You want him. You want a family with him. The realization felt both freeing and terrifying. But before you could sit with it any longer, your phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. You walked over and picked it up. The screen showed a message from an unknown number.
Unknown : Stay away from Heeseung or else your career and his especially are doomed. I will make sure of it
[ ༯ ] pairing - experienced, gentle and dom heeseung x fem, virgin and sub reader
[ ༯ ] a few words to describe the story - smut, 18+, first-time sex, loss of virginity, orgasm, coaching, vulnerability, breeding, dirty talk, thrusting, grinding, mutual desire, possessive, begging, needy, flirty, guided submission, praise, gentle dominance, caring heeseung, tender touch, size kink, creampie, oral praise, reassurance, emotional intimacy, emotional dependency, penetration, innocence kink, body worship, clit stimulation during penetration, sensory focus, aftercare, trust
[ ༯ ] 𝒹ℯ𝒹𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉ℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ: 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃
“𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑖𝑛”
As the sun was setting down painting the sky in subtle orange and pink colours in the approaching evening hours it was assured to say that for you - today was one of the best days you've ever encountered primarily because you were spending time with your best friend after long-awaited weeks. Right in this very moment, Heeseung was holding your hand, fingers intertwined with yours. It wasn't one of those casual hangouts you had. You took a long walk, ate snacks together, brought your favorite cold beverages, shared deep conversations and overall he wasn't JUST a friend. He carried your purse, spoiled you often, and looked after you more than anyone else you encircled yourself with.
He had always had a thing for you but in deep secret. You would often catch him staring deeply, as if he frequently gaped at how you dressed, how you communicated, how you carried yourself and that, furthermore wasn't something you didn't relate to. You also had those unidentified intense feelings for him but you didn't wish to feel embarrassed and confess them out loud. You would scan him often, play with his rings sticking to his fingers, rattle his hair, and merely share affection you generally wouldn't with anybody else. But the timid feelings always swayed your boldness. You also tended to look down on yourself and constantly tell yourself that even though Heeseung was single and you could confess, in the end: he deserved better. Someone more to his level of attention. But you had no hint he was head over heels for you too.
“You zone out often, Y/N” Heeseungs voice was audible now, letting out a low laugh. He gazed down at you. He was really tall standing next to you.
“Right— I’m sorry—, I was just… lost in thought” The moment the sentence initiated passing through your teeth, you let out a stutter. This was caused by his fierce gaze. Always that gaze that left your heart racing a certain way.
You could sense his eyes on you and then drift away. By now, you were getting closer to your house. Heeseung was also a student like you and he asked you two days before your planned hangout to print out some papers for him. The plan was for you to pass them to him when you arrive there.
But... you felt a certain pull this time.
“Are you sure you don't wanna stay over? Maybe we can play some games?” You proposed, voice hardly audible, and eyes coming across his sharp side profile. His gaze didn’t meet you this time.
“You know I’d love to but I really gotta get home, Y/N. I got this project due Monday” he declined, your heart sinking for a moment.
“But— you have 4 days until then… and—” you realised you were pushing it in that moment, lips pouting. You saw Heeseung’s expression shift to something indistinct. He beamed at you and then squeezed your hand a little bit harder in his grasp. That implied only one gesture and something inside you stirred up further to the thought of him switching his mind.
When you arrived at your place, your parents were on a work trip so it was calm. The same neat aroma of the hallway filled Heeseung’s lungs. You both took off your shoes and Heeseung strolled towards you in your cozy bedroom. His eyes immediately drifted towards the teddy bear snuck in between your cushions on the bed. Heeseung placed your purse down on your makeup desk area.
“I’m not sure where I put them..” you muttered as you were searching through the papers. You could feel his presence waiting.
Heeseung put his hands in his pockets awkwardly standing there trying not to stare at your back hunched over the desk. That made your figure more prominent which attracted him further. He saw you scanning your laptop and going through some files. He fixed his throat.
“It’s alright, I can come back another time?” Heeseung uttered in a more delicate tone this time. But you didn't want to miss the opportunity now that he was in your room.
“Yeah—.. Uh..” you paused, face disappointed as you realised you completely forgot to print them out. How can you forget out of all the things that existed on your mind to get HIS request done?
“It’s fine, it’s fine, Y/N seriously” He soothed one more time.
Now, you took a step back from the laptop and sighed unaware of the uncertainty Heeseung was sharing. He couldn't lie to himself - the entire day you spent together, a few inappropriate thoughts struck his mind. Even when he was chucking heavy flirting at you, making a few jokes here and there, and acting playful you never figured out. You were so innocent and adorable that he couldn't help but start to visualize many dreams. And in your head, you were anticipating him to leave as he said. But you didn't desire that. You refused to let the day end.
The tension grew instantly, and you made eye contact with him. The moment you did Heeseung took a step closer, shutting the distance.
“You don’t want me to leave, do you?” His voice dropped to a whisper. His lips are looming over yours and you couldn’t actually doubt it. To respond to his question you reached up and smooched him. Your lips are pressing stiff and unfamiliar, having no actual idea of what it feels like to kiss somebody. Your arms wrapped around him, holding yourself, and you realised Heeseung responded to it with a quiet sigh.
He smirked when you struggled, your ass pressed against the desk, now a few items tumbling to the push of your weight. Your inexperienced tongue tried to taste his lips, saliva coating them, taking Heeseung by surprise. He had his eyes closed trying to really appreciate the moment because who knows what might happen next. He didn’t dare to touch anywhere else except your waist because he also didn’t want to cross boundaries without approval. Your underwear was sticky with the rushing wetness you felt when you finally kissed your best friend. Unexpectedly your mouth pulled back leaving both of you breathless with thudding hearts.
“I wanna know how it feels like” You melted into his palms on your waist, words hardly coming out. “It’ll be my first time, Hee..” Another sentence followed after the first one, attempting to convince him now. His eyes couldn’t stop searching inside yours the entire time, making sure that u really wanted this. And he saw it, but he also wanted to make certain. He didn’t even say anything, he looked down, inspecting your outfit, and swallowed his curiosity about you under these clothes. You saw his Adam’s apple bobbing and then glanced down at him as well. You lifted his shirt, revealing his somewhat softer abs, and felt your mouth water.
“Turn around, Y/N.” Abruptly, Heeseung hissed and bit his lower lip. His hardness was now painful in his jeans. You attended intently, body language slightly hesitant as you didn’t know how to precisely stand. When he noticed, he exhaled patiently. You listened to him undoing his belt and the sound of the zipper followed by.
“Arch your back a little” He couldn’t take his eyes off your ass. He slipped your bottoms down, together with your panties. His member sprang up, ready to fulfill your curiosity. Your skin hit the cooler air and you felt your entrance contract when there was no fabric pressing against it.
“If you feel any sort of pain, you tell me” Heeseung licked his lips and placed a palm on your waist. Fingers slipping under your shirt starting to caress you with his thumb. He could hear your heavier, nervous breathing.
“Relax, I want you to completely relax..” With his free hand, he wrapped the tips of his fingers around the base of his member and aimed the tip against your entrance. He could feel your trembling thighs against him in a very weak vibration. When he scanned your expression from the side he saw your eyes shut and lips mashed nervously. When he pressed the plump tip against your core and started pushing, you let out a squirm. Your thighs were spread enough, all you had to do was loosen up.
“It’s okay.. It’s okay..” He retreated. His eyes gazed down. Your pussy was aroused, but too tense. He continued caressing you with his thumb the entire time.
“He—Heeseung.. wha..what if it doesn’t fit?” You asked, your virgin mind was so eager and needy but also uneasy.
“It will, Y/N.. breathe in.. breathe out..” Heeseung presently reassured you. He started pushing one more time. This time he could feel you were more flexible. You were still learning. He could feel the stretch granting him the stinging sensation but he could also hear your persistent breathing. You were trying your best. And he was also carrying it slowly and gently. Every tiny squirm made him stop.
After a few minutes, Heeseung finally began to feel you differently. He went past your opening and started to feel a different kind of heat circling his foreskin and tip.
“Relax more, I’m in” He exhaled, his eyes squeezing as he was sliding gradually. Making sure that you felt comfortable. This position was perfect for your first time and he already had experience. He felt your gummy walls accept every single inch. Now, he was halfway there but he quit pushing. He must let you adapt to every single movement. You did as he told, reciting in your mind that there was zero to fear from.
Soon, he shoved a little bit deeper. His member is still pulsating hard to eventually feel the friction happen. He was starving.
“I’m going to start moving now, okay?” He alerted as his eyes met your side profile, his hips giving a gentle roll against your ass. You froze wholly, your walls plowed, almost like they didn’t really want him there. Your body was in a mini amazement. You rolled your eyes only to a second of bliss. Heeseung penetrated deeper and reached a different texture more smoothly now because of how soaked you were evolving. He could feel your heartbeat against your walls.
“You.. You are so big, Heeseung” The words fell off your mouth mixed with little concern but also pleasure. The stretch hurt but only when you weren’t calm completely. You concentrated and then let out a moan.
“Yeah? It’s okay.. you’ll get used to it, baby” Heeseung named you a pet phrase that turned your buttons on further.
Now, Heeseung started to move consistently. A slow-tender motion grinding in your walls that made your tummy turn and your mouth hang open. You felt full but so satisfied from every single roll he did. Heeseung noticed and let out a sharp grunt. His palm is still caressing you while the other one finally lets go of his member and lets the hips do the work. His other hand reached to hold your right ass cheek, squeezing just enough to feel it.
“Mm..” You moaned, a little bit louder this time. You both realised how extraordinary it started to feel in this very moment. The burn wasn’t there anymore, just your sealed walls around Heeseung’s hard thick dick. He locked his eyes with the friction of your pussy coating him with gliss and let out a soft moan as well, making your gut fill with butterflies.
“Yeah, Y/N? You like that, baby?” He questioned, pace still polite as he honestly astonished himself: that the slower you fuck a girl, the deeper you feel her.
You started to try to push your hips unevenly together with his, the deeper the better. You made pauses, totally unpredictable, and then abruptly slapped your entire weight revealing to him how good it made you feel. Your eyes rolled once again and your whimpers got louder. Heeseung snapped altogether. He felt so turned on from that kind of body language you were having. He bit his lower lip, HARD, your walls clutching but he yearned to take it sluggish and delicate.
“S..Slow..” He stuttered, throat going dry as he clasped you in place. Your skin is soft against his. He never imagined a sweet and innocent girl like you would be into him like this. He was interested but never knew it could take off like this.
When the steady clash lasted for over 5 minutes now, Heeseung felt your walls become packed with juices and his orgasm approaching. He wanted to make you orgasm too so he softly tugged you back completely, your back arching as he slipped his hand to your wet clit. He directly felt your walls clench as he began to rub you in circles with the tips of his fingertips.
“Ooohh—! M..Mnnyesyes!” You tingled on the inside, your thighs starting to shudder. You felt Heeseung’s chin press against your shoulder and listened to his breathing evolve heavier.
“Fuck, Y/N you are so loud” He honored, you could hear his grin in his voice. Heeseung’s stamina was balanced but it satisfied all of his needs. He felt your pussy’s warmth while provoking your clit to a jiggling vibration. You thought you were going to gush right there from his insane combo and skill. He could do both with no uncertainty.
“I’m.. I’m g..gonna-.. f..feel weird..” Your mouth gasped open to speak. You bit your lower lip to the verge of charm.
“You are.. You are gonna orgasm, baby.. relax.. it’ll feel so good, baby” Heeseung deeply moaned, he felt his own orgasm coming any second. “I’m.. I’m gonna cum”
“Heeseung.. Heeseung—“
Your legs jerked and your brain rushed with dopamine and ecstasy. Your legs went fragile, knees almost died out as you held with all your resilience against the desk. Your head is thrown back and your moans are in tiny, speechless gasps. You could hear a small gasp from your best friend too.
To Heeseung, this was the hottest moment. He instantly spilled inside of you in an audible husky moan. His own body grew vulnerable, muscles relaxing in his legs and hips as he dragged out both of your orgasms. His hand left your clit to save your weak body on both sides, his grasp tight and powerful. Your hair was slipping over his face as you were both catching your breath. Your eyes are closed entirely now, arms are powerless as well.
“Th..That felt so good” You managed to voice out, your voice cracking, thirsty from all the breathing and moaning. You felt Heeseung coated fully when he slowly took his member out in a loud pop. Your hole was still wide and loose, remembering he was inside moments ago.
“Oh yeah.. I definitely wanna do this again another time..” Heeseung smirked, his member going soft as he held you close. “You okay? Wanna lie down?”
You shook your head, finally meeting his gaze. Heeseung helped you pull your bottoms. He also pulled his pants up, zipping them up and fixing his belt.
“I'd better get going now, Y/N..” He found your cheek and placed a soft kiss on it, followed by your lips. You held him close, fingers going through his hair not wishing for that.
“Alright, alright.. I’ll stay.”
ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ
evanshyangel: did this during exam week <\3 im sorry if its short. did the best i could
Package Deal
Ship: Best Friend!Heeseung x Reader x Enemy!Sunghoon
Description: For as long as you were going to be Heeseung’s best friend, you’d have to put up with his other best friend, Sunghoon, who absolutely despises you. Things only get more complicated after an incident that leads people to think you took the package deal.
Warnings: Threesome, Eiffel Tower, MxM action, Dom/BratTamer!Heeseung, Switch!Sunghoon, Oral (m&f receiving), Unproteced Sex, Squirting, Impact Play, Dacryphilia, Creampie, Cum Play, Edging, Overstimulation, Humiliation/Degradation, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Praise, Pussy Slapping, Multiple Orgasms, Sadomasochism, Dry Humping literally this is 90% smut barely any plot, terrible attempts at humor
Wordcount: 15k
A/N: Ahh sorry I keep making the reader not get along with Sunghoon lol. I just love best friends and enemies tropes, what can I say. I hope everyone enjoys this. I started writing it before March and found finishing it cathartic. I still plan to write Heeseung fics in the future and have him be included as a character in future Enhypen fics. You can find the BTS Jungkook & Taehyung version on my blog @littlemisskookie as Group Bonding!
When you first met Heeseung it was for your debate program in University. He was the only one who could match you with for wit, point for point, all within the allotted time and with brevity and well spoken analysis that you were in awe of. Surprisingly the two of you did not become rivals, the way high school you would've fantasized, having read way too much enemies to lovers fanfiction. No, instead you two actually became very good friends, building a friendship based on mutual respect, sticking together even after graduation.
Heeseung was practically perfect in every way except with one minute (major) flaw: his other best friend.
You and Park Sunghoon never really saw eye-to-eye; the moment you crossed paths with his childhood best friend, his original debate partner back in high school, you knew you had entered a battlefield.
It was a never ending fight between the two of you, always vying for Heeseung's affections. Sunghoon had always accused you of being a leech, just another sycophant who would reveal her true colors and nefarious intentions towards his best friend. Apparently they had known each other since childhood, and he had seen a million girls like you come and go. You, on the other hand, found Sunghoon to be an entitled, pompous brat whose rich family provided so much for him he had never been told the word no. He was so used to Heeseung being his and his alone that you had trouble picturing him sharing anything in his life. That was probably the real reason why girls didn't last long around Heeseung.
It didn't help that Heeseung was constantly trying to facilitate things between the two of you, arranging for the three of you to hang out despite both parties' protest.
"If you guys only got to know each other better, I'm sure you'd get along!"
"Won't you guys try, for me? C'mon, I've always pictured what things would be like, the three of us."
"You're both my best friends. Why would anyone choose just one?"
More times than you could count you were invited to hang out with Heeseung, only to find Sunghoon already be there. You tried to get along with the man, really, but it was nearly impossible. He was so possessive of Hee, constantly glaring at the two of you when Heeseung showed you any affection. He always had some snide comment to make about it afterwards, like just seeing you two so close made him want to throw up. You were positively sure at this point that the younger was in love with his best friend, but it was a working theory.
Regardless, anything you showed up to with Heeseung, you'd have to be ok with Sunghoon tagging along as well. Tonight's party was no exception, though you had lost track of the duo when you went to find a drink to drown your sorrows, and then had to do it again after seeing said sorrow to drink over.
You stumbled up the stairs with a heavy heart, downing most of your cup to replace one bitter taste in your mouth with another. To your surprise you see your best friend waiting in the hallway, no Sunghoon in sight, looking just as drunk as you based on the way he was slumped against the wall.
You walked up to him, back pressing against the wall as well, leaning your arm against his for support and also needing the comfort of his body heat against yours right now.
"Hey, where've ya been? I've been looking for you for the past ten minutes I feel," you pouted, taking another sip of the fruity concoction in your cup, the vodka starting to become less noticeable.
The moment Heeseung registered you he glowed, beaming with a goofy, drunk, genuine smile that made you feel safe.
"Hey, sorry! Hoon broke the seal, and I didn't want to lose more than one person in a single night," Heeseung chuckled, grabbing you arm and tucking it against his, pulling you in closer to his side. "How're you enjoying the party?"
You shrugged, unsure if you wanted to mention the sight downstairs you were currently running from. "It's fine, I guess."
"Yeah, I was thinking about the three of us ditching to go to that party on Brunswick, but none of us seem quite capable of driving just yet."
That put a damper on your hopes of Heeseung whisking you away from this place.
"I just remembered, I forgot to show you earlier today the new watch I got from Etsy!" Heeseung's glazed eyes lit up. "Look, it's called a serpent's watch."
Heeseung flashed the fancy accessory on his wrist, the nontraditional wristband being coils of metal that wrapped down his wrist, the clock shaped closer to an oval or diamond than a circle. It really was shaped liked a serpent.
You absentmindedly nodded, fingers brushing over the way the watch wrapped around Heeseung's wrist. Your mind kept drifting from Heeseung's forearms, however, and without sobriety to keep your mind where it should be, tears were soon falling from your eyes.
Hee noticed immediately.
"Hey hey, what's wrong?" Heeseung cupped your face in his hands, thumbs swiping under your eyes to wipe away at the tears. "It's a party, you should be happy-drunk, not sad-drunk."
Your lip trembled as you melted into Heeseung's touch. "It's Jake," you explained, a pout on your lips as you said the name. "Just saw him downstairs with some girl. I just wasn't expecting it to hit so hard, y'know?"
"Aw, baby, I'm so sorry." Heeseung wasn't the biggest fan of your ex, secretly (not so secretly) elated when the two of you broke up. You didn't share the same sentiments, very clearly heartbroken when Jake dumped you to have sex with other girls. Go figure. "It's natural to be upset."
"I just—" You sucked in a breath. "I want to be over it already, y'know? I'm so sick of being pathetic and still crying about it."
"It was only two months ago. I don't blame you."
"You should. You should be sick of me at this point, crying to you about this. God knows Sunghoon is." You blinked away the tears, slowly coming back down to Earth as you grounded yourself further against Heeseung. "I'm sick of me."
"I could never be sick of you, trust me. Jake doesn't know what he's missing out on. Any sane man would be on his knees for you if you so much as asked."
That earned a laugh out of you, effectively brightening your spirit a tiny bit. You sniffled, resting your forehead against Heeseung's shoulder, sighing as you composed yourself. "Thanks, Hee. I appreciate it. God, why can't more guys be like you? There's too many assholes like Jake and Sunghoon around."
Heeseung chuckled at that. "Hey, Hoon's not that bad."
"He is to me."
"You guys just need to work on getting closer, that's all. Find some shared interest or hobby or something. Anything you might like to do together."
You rolled your eyes a bit. "I don't think there's anything like that that doesn't involve violence."
"He likes you more than you think. He just doesn't realize it yet," Heeseung assured.
You heard a knock from inside the bathroom, Sunghoon's voice calling out. "Heeseung?"
"Speak of the devil," Heeseung grinned. He turned toward the door. "What is it?"
"Can you come in here real quick?"
Both you and Heeseung exchanged puzzled glances.
"Are you guys about to get up to some gay shit?" You whispered quietly. "I mean, it's hot, I guess. Am I supposed to keep watch?"
"Dunno yet. Let me see what he needs," Heeseung said, not even bothering to deny the homosexual allegations as he stepped inside the bathroom. Sunghoon was turned away from Heeseung, looking down and fidgeting with something. "Everything ok man?"
"Yes— I mean no— I mean... shit." Sunghoon turned around, letting Heeseung see his situation. Unfortunately for him, the zipper of his pants had gotten stuck onto his boxers and was refusing to budge. "It's stuck," Sunghoon stated the obvious. "I've been trying to get it loose for like, five minutes now."
"Whoo boy, let's see what we're dealing with." Heeseung gave the zipper an experimental tug upwards. Sunghoon wasn't used to having Heeseung's hands so close to his genitalia, but he supposed it was a testimony to how close they were.
Sunghoon leaned against the sink, ears tinged pink with embarrassment as Heeseung yanked at the zipper with reasonable force.
"Hey, watch it man! I don't need you zipping up my balls, too," Sunghoon freaked.
"Relax, it's not— Jesus Christ, this thing really isn't budging," Heeseung hissed, hands starting to become sweaty with his efforts.
Sunghoon's eyes widened. He buried his face in his hands, feeling how hot his cheeks were already getting "Fuck. Fuck, man, what am I gonna do? I can't go out there with my fly like this!"
"I'd be more worried about the fact you spent, like, 500 bucks on these pants." If Heeseung used too much force on this he was at risk of breaking it beyond repair, and he really couldn't afford repairs for Prada the way Sunghoon could.
"Dude, I literally want to die right now." Sunghoon prayed everybody would be drunker than he was, at least enough where he could make a speedy exit without anyone noticing his problem.
"Wait!" Heeseung's head shot up, as though a brilliant idea came to him. "I know someone who's great with zippers!"
Sunghoon's thick brows furrowed, and all he could think about was lightning somehow shooting into the house and striking him down mercifully. "What? Wait—"
"Y/N! Get in here, we need your help!" Heeseung swung open the bathroom door, dragging you inside without preamble or Sunghoon's approval.
You grumbled, eyes narrowed with confusion. "Do I need to aim for you guys or...?"
"No! Hoon's got a bit of a..." Heeseung's eyes flicked down towards his friend's crotch. "...situation."
Your eyebrows jumped this time. "He has a boner?"
"No!" Now it was Sunghoon's turn to interject. He felt like he could die of embarrassment then and there, having to humiliate himself in front of you of all people. "My zipper is stuck."
"Aw, guess that Prada label doesn't guarantee quality after all, does it?" You jutted your lip out in a fake pout, taking your opportunity to jab at him. You were still suffering from the sting of seeing your ex, and Sunghoon was the best target you could ask for tonight. This was just too perfect.
"Hey, be nice," Heeseung scolded. "Will you help?"
"Maybe..." You tapped your cup against your chin, pondering. "If he begs."
"What?!" Sunghoon was shocked by your sheer audacity.
You shrugged, fighting (and failing) to keep the corner of your mouth from quirking up into a smirk. "If you want me to help, you have to say please. It's only polite."
"Oh my god, you're such a bitch—"
"That's not very nice."
"Nice? I can—"
"Guys, stop!" Heeseung interrupted the both of your squabbling, not wanting to be cramped in a bathroom with the two of you shouting in his ear. "Just say please, Hoon."
Sunghoon's eyes practically bulged out of his sockets when he heard Heeseung taking your side. You stuck your tongue out at him like a child, triumphant.
He gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw as he muttered the words. "Will you please help me with my zipper? Please?"
You looked so cheeky and smug, putting your cup down on the sink. Sunghoon suddenly had the urge to bite you. "Well, since you sound so pathetic."
You reached for the zipper, and Sunghoon hissed to resist the urge of slapping your hands away out of annoyance. "I'm gonna get you back for this, I swear..."
"That's not how you say thank you to a favor, Hoonie," you teased, your fingers twiddling with the metal as you tried to yank it up.
"We both know you aren't doing this as a favor." Fuck, you were so close to him. He could smell both the perfume you wore and the alcohol you drank. Now he had to worry about the friction your jerky little tugs were causing.
"Aw, look at you guys getting along," Heeseung smiled, reaching up to pat your head. "I told ya, you just needed to bond a little."
"We are not bonding— ow!" You tried to turn your head to face him, but something caught in your hair. You tried to move again, only realizing that Heeseung's fancy watch was now tangled in it.
"Sorry!" Heeseung apologized, trying to move his hand back but tugging your head along with it, making you howl. "Oh, sorry again!"
"Stop moving!" You reached one hand back to reach for his wrist, trying to pull a few strands away to get loose.
"Can you get lower? It's hard for me to untangle myself at this angle."
"Fuck!" The hand still on Sunghoon's zipper yanked on it in frustration, the tug doing nothing to free it.
"My hand's getting tired up here, it'll be quicker!" Heeseung whined petulantly.
You rolled your eyes and reluctantly sank onto your knees, the cold tile biting against your skin. You were now staring up at Sunghoon, who found the view a lot hotter than he cared to admit.
But he did say he was going to get back at you.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Look at you. Can't believe you're on your knees in a bathroom for me."
You scowled. "It's not for you."
"Right. You're on a dirty bathroom floor for me and Heeseung." Sunghoon snickered at your glare, soaking in your scowl.
You reached up for his zipper with both hands, tugging it back down in another attempt, your other hand gripping onto fabric to pull it out. "You really shouldn't piss off the one with a zipper to your balls."
"That's if you can do your job correctly down there."
"Oh, you can fuck right off— Oh fuck, Hee!" Your head jerked back again slightly, and your eyes scrunched as you winced in pain.
"Sorry!" Heeseung apologized again, patting your head with the unadorned hand. "It's almost out, just a little longer."
"Fuck!" You gripped onto Sunghoon's pants tighter, pulling him closer to you as you jerked the zipper more, feeling some leeway.
Sunghoon grappled onto the sink counter, trying not to fall against you or get hard, his footing unsteady as you tugged his pants closer to your face. If he wasn't careful you were going to end up with his dick print against your cheek. The sound of your little whine made popping a boner nearly impossible. It was difficult too with the sight of you frustrated and on your knees between the two of them, tiny hands scrambling with his zipper, and his mind was going to places they really shouldn't.
Your hand was moving the zipper up and down, desperately trying to get it loose, the tiny bit of fabric bunched beneath slowly giving way. You fisted at the fabric next to it, trying to pull it in the opposite direction so it would give.
"Fuck, I think I'm close," you muttered quietly to yourself, not even realizing how you sounded.
Fuck. Fuck Sunghoon needed to get his zipper fixed now because any second now he was going to get obviously hard, and there'd be absolutely no way of hiding it from you or Heeseung.
"I-I think I might—"
"Shut up, I'm almost there!" Of course you'd be fucking stubborn when you put your mind to something.
"Me too!" His best friend innocently commented, eyes glued on his watch. Heeseung seemed oblivious to Sunghoon's panic, just as focused as you when it came to the task at hand.
You tugged one more time, the slide finally becoming easier and the zipper making its way successfully to the very bottom, no fabric stuck. "Finally!"
Heeseung managed to free his watch with your hair still intact, though it was a mess from the tangles and pulling from prior. "Yes!" He rolled his wrist with satisfaction, his other, unadorned hand now combing through your mess of hair in attempt to smoothe it. "See, that wasn't too bad."
Sunghoon felt entirely too suffocated, and for the first time in his life he was desperately wanting a woman off her knees. "For you," he huffed, feeling hotter by the minute.
It was just then that the bathroom door, which you neglected to lock behind you, swung open.
The three of you must've been a sight: your hands up near Sunghoon's crotch while you were on your knees, Sunghoon's pants unzipped, your hair a tangled mess and makeup slightly smudged from crying. Sunghoon and Heeseung were also incriminating, both sweating a little from their frustration, breathing heavy from their intense focus on very different missions.
Heeseung looked like a deer in headlights as he turned back toward the people in the doorway, the appearance of the situation seemingly dawning on him.
"Um... I know this is super cliché but... this isn't what it looks like."
—
So everybody thinks you had a threesome in the bathroom with the two hottest guys on campus.
That's just great.
It's not like anyone's dick was even out or anything. Sure, you could see how it'd look like you guys were about to have a threesome, but that's a huge difference! Instead, you were getting bombarded left and right with people you've never even met, asking you what happened, what they were like, who was better, who was bigger. They heard some of the things that were being said, you couldn't fool them. The dialogue alone was incriminating. When you told them the truth they never believed you, some giving you a cheeky smile saying, Fine, keep your secrets.
You were starting to think you might as well have with how many people were convinced.
The mere idea of it was crazy. You, having a threesome with your best friend... and his best friend. Who you hated.
Still, your mind kept drifting back to the image of him looking down at you, so pissed, so on edge. You were lucky he seemed so panicked about the zipper that he didn't notice you pressing your thighs together.
You were a horny drunk, you could admit that much. You just didn't imagine you'd be getting horny for Sunghoon of all people.
Or Heeseung.
You thought of the way Hee's fingers carded through your hair, the assuring pat on your head and the way he cradled your face when you were crying. You thought about how he looked from above as well that night, brows furrowed in concentration, biting down on his lip.
Fuck. You can't be thinking of this. It was just a drunken misunderstanding.
You need to stop thinking about fucking your best friend and his best friend. End of story.
There was no way that was ever happening. Sunghoon hated your guts the same way you hated his, and Heeseung was always oblivious to everything.
You just had to pretend that none of it was bothering you.
That's why you were loud as hell as you barged your way into Heeseung's apartment, holding your copy of his key between your fingers.
"Hee! I'm here!" you called, just in case Sunghoon was inside and you were unwittingly put into a trap with him. You stumbled your way into the living room, where Heeseung sat on his huge ass sofa, solo. "No Hoon today?"
"Nah, he's not going to be out of class for another hour at least. I'm all yours 'til then." He was so cocky with it, crossing his fingers behind his head and leaning back, giving a mischievous grin.
"Lucky me," you chuckled, kicking off your shoes to join him.
With an early start to wine and enough time to get you tipsy, your conversation with Heeseung had delved into the topic no one, you especially now, could take off their minds: threesomes.
At first it started with the two of you laughing over how ridiculous the rumor spreading about the three of you was.
"So, I'm guessing you heard the rumors too?"
"Which one? The one about the dean having the same dealer as us, or the one that Sigma Ki has a cuck hazing ritual?"
You lightly shoved at your friend, rolling your eyes. "You know the one."
Heeseung laughed at your annoyance, positively beaming. "Oh, you mean the one about you, me, and Hoon fucking each other in the bathroom? I may have heard about it."
How crazy that'd be. How stupid everyone was for automatically believing it. Then it continued, getting a bit deeper. You were currently ranting about how the concept of it in the general public, and what was deemed as more "acceptable" was two girls with one guy. It had only become a recent phenomenon of a girl getting to have two guys at the same time, the riskiest it was willing to go before still forcing her to choose one of the two. Meanwhile men's fantasies included harems and two women and expectations for girls that had been ingrained in the misogynistic society you were subjected to today.
"I mean, let's be soooo for real," you droned, the alcohol in your system making you bolder with your opinions. "Threesomes with two guys and one girl don't happen in real life. It's just a porn fantasy, and not one that gets delivered enough anyways because visual porn is much more catered to the male gaze. God forbid a woman's the center of attention."
"I'm sure those threesomes happen more often than you think, you know."
"Think about all the threesomes you know of, with real people you know, and measure out how many of those were two girls and how many were two guys. Those specific pairings. Go."
Heeseung pondered for a moment, giving it some thought. "So it's a bit... imbalanced."
"Guys have it so easy!" You whined, sinking into the couch cushions, crossing your arms with a huff. "Girls are constantly expected to be gay with their girl friends. If a girl isn't down to have a threesome with another girl, she's seen as boring. That's why so many of those Tinder couples are looking for a girl. And it's all catered towards the guy. Hell, if I were with another naked chick, the guy definitely wouldn't be getting all the attention. It's like rowboating with a heavy ass robot in the middle. Sure, hypothetically you can get the job done, but overall it'd just be best if the useless piece of junk were out of the picture."
Heeseung cackled at your comment, shaking his head. "You have the strangest way of describing things."
"I'm pretty sure I heard it from some comedian." You waved aside the thought. "Meanwhile, if you ask a guy to have a threesome with his bestie, he'd look at you like you have two heads! It only exists in porn, not real life," you rambled on.
"I'm still sure it happens in real life more often than you'd think."
"No, I doubt that. That's why it's so silly that everyone's so gullible. Guys are always going on about how it'd be gay to have a threesome with another man, but it's just as hot for the girl as it is for the guy in the switched scenarios," you pointed out. "Why else would girls be reading yaoi or reading gay fanfiction when they themselves are not gay men? Get turned on when they kiss?"
"I don't know. Some guys aren't as insecure in their masculinity as you think."
"Oh yeah? Like who?"
"Me."
You scoffed. "You? Yeah right."
"I don't think I'd mind," he shrugged, as though it were the most casual thing in the world.
"Oh really? So if a woman asked if you and your best friend— if you and Sunghoon, were down to fuck her, you'd do it?" Surely Heeseung was just blowing smoke out of his ass. Your sweet Hee? No way. The mere concept of him and Sunghoon actually sharing a girl was enough to give anyone a nosebleed. Like Sunghoon would be capable of sharing in general.
Heeseung stared at the ceiling, as though thinking about it. "Depends on the woman."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I wouldn't sleep with just any woman, first of all, my best friend included or not."
"Fair point." You thought about it for a moment. "Imagine, like, the hottest girl you've ever seen, then. You'd be down to fuck her no matter what."
Heeseung looked at you with a half-lidded gaze, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek. "Is she as hot as you?"
You rolled your eyes at his typical sleazy compliments, brushing it off with ease. He sometimes unintentionally flirted with you like this, riled you up, reminded you of what you couldn't have. At least, definitely not with Sunghoon in the way. It was always innocent banter, some light teasing, like he doesn't know what it does to you. You wonder if he was truly oblivious or if he was just really good at pretending as a way to watch you squirm. "I forget, this whole thing's easy to you. You forget the rest of us plebeians have trouble even getting one person to want us, let alone two. You could probably pick three for one night, easy." You ruffled his hair, pushing his head to the side. "Not all of us look like we could be on the cover of Vogue, you know."
Heeseung pulled you in closer, arm looping around your waist until your thighs were pressing against one another's. "You're hot and you know it."
"Yeah, but I'm not on like, you or Sunghoon's level," you snorted. Hate Sunghoon all you want, you couldn't deny the man creeped into the edges of your mind when you were getting off to the thought of his doe-eyed best friend. How you got to know two such gorgeous men, even in this sense, was beyond you.
"You're prettier than both of us. Sunghoon would agree." Heeseung leaned in and nosed your neck affectionately, and half of you expected Sunghoon to walk in any minute and scold you two for defiling the couch, even though the gesture was surely done with the purest of intentions.
"Doubt that," you chuckled. "I know I'm sorta pretty—"
"Definitely pretty."
"Definitely pretty," you corrected yourself. "But I have no doubt that I get weird stares when the three of us are in public, and people who don't know us wonder how I was able to pull that off."
Heeseung cocked his head to the side, studying your reaction, assessing your words and narrowing his eyes as though he wanted to argue. Slowly, his gaze drifted further down your face, lingering on your lips. "Ask me the question again."
"What question?" You forgot it already.
"Ask if me and my best friend would be down to fuck you."
Immediately your heart jumped. Your cheeks burned at his clarification, and you squirmed in your seat. "I don't think I phrased it like that!" You couldn't help but feel exposed, even though he misread your question entirely.
"It is now." He leaned in closer, invading your space. You instinctively tried to sink further into the couch. Heeseung stopped his face a few inches from yours, arm hooking over the back of the couch behind you, impossible to ignore, waiting on your answer. He nudged at your chin with his fingers to get you to look at him properly, the way his eyes glittered being far too mischevious for your comfort. "Ask it."
You wanted to tell him to fuck off and quit playing with you, but you were also determined to hide how affected you were. This was so unlike him. Typically he was a clueless dolt, adoring, sweet, not this. The last thing you wanted Heeseung to know was how accurately he was now seeing you now. Did he always? Was he just pretending like he didn't know all this time? You didn't want him to see how excited you were getting by some hypoethical question that could never happen for two very big, very handsome reasons.
But this is Heeseung you're talking about. There was a very real possibility he was just bluffing to get a reaction out of you. You were used to him pulling shit out of his ass to make some contrived point.
"Fine." You squared your shoulders, looking Heeseung in the eye. "Would you want to fuck me with Sunghoon?"
There's something that seemed to go dark inside his eyes, his face serious. "Yes."
You couldn't prevent the immediate small exhale of your nose, shaking your head and breaking eye contact. "You're so full of shit. Anything to prove your point and win an argument, huh?" He was exactly the same back in debate, go figure.
You were about to push him aside when you felt a hand on your knee. You stared up at him in surprise, his face still deadly serious.
"I mean it."
His thumb did a small brush against the side of your leg, and it was enough to make your knee jump beneath his palm. Your heartbeat raced, and you're suddenly left shy, as though this weren't your best friend Heeseung.
"I... That still doesn't prove my point!" Your brain was now melting away, and you're scrambling for whatever solid parts were left to form words. Heeseung was saying he wanted to fuck you. With Sunghoon. What kind of sick joke was the universe playing with you? "The likelihood of one guy agreeing to that in the first place is super low, much less two."
"Sunghoon would say yes, too."
You looked at Heeseung as though he were crazy. "Are we talking about the same Sunghoon?"
"Yes."
"Bullshit." You couldn't help but relax a little, reminding yourself of the impossibility, especially where Sunghoon was involved. "He hates me."
"He doesn't hate you," Heeseung insisted.
"He does, too." Your confidence was slowly returning, and for a moment you pay no mind to Heeseung's hand on your knee, your mind now tuning back into debate-mode. "And I know for a fact he'd think you're crazy for even asking and say no."
"He wouldn't. I saw how he was looking at you in the bathroom."
You swore your heart stopped then and there. "You're bluffing."
Heeseung grinned, and you could practically see the devil horns starting to grow. Perhaps the angel act really was a disguise. "Wanna bet?"
"What on?"
His smile deepened. "If he says no, we forget this whole thing happened. Hell, I'll take you out to that trendy little coffee place you love so much. You win."
The unasked questioned stands in the air before you take the plunge. "And if I lose?"
His eyes flicker down to your lips for just a moment, barely long enough for you to catch. "Guess."
You sucked in a breath at that. The thing about Heeseung was that he could never truly be trusted for when he was bluffing and making shit up or when he was saying fact. It was one of those things that made beating him in the moment, with all his deceit and bravado, even more special.
So that's why you found the courage to say: "Call him."
Heeseung didn't even break eye contact with you, whipping out his phone from his back pocket and ringing up Sunghoon, turning it on speaker so it was loud enough for both of you to hear.
When the first dial rang you started to have second thoughts.
When the second dial rang you started to think about how Sunghoon would believe you were a total freak for wanting this, for wanting to be shared by Heeseung and him of all people, and you'd be ready to die on the spot when you next saw him.
When the third dial rang, you started to believe you were being overdramatic, and that it'd go to voicemail and you and Heeseung could have a big laugh and forget the whole thing ever happened. Maybe make it an inside joke between the two of you. What if he had picked up?
And then he picked up.
You were ready to scream when his deep voice came out of the speaker. "Yo."
"Yo, man, what you up to?" Heeseung sounded so casual, and he only smiled when he saw your look of worry and shock as you mouthed at him to hang up.
Heeseung was so close to you that you could hear everything on Sunghoon's end without the phone even being on speaker. "Just got out of class. What's up?"
"Wanted to know if you're free to come over."
"Sure dude. What're you wanting to do?"
Heeseung's eyes locked with yours, his mouth twitching into a smirk. "Y/N."
There's a moment of silence on the line, and you wondered for a moment if Sunghoon hung up at the mere mention of your name.
Finally, he spoke.
"Tonight?" He didn't ask any further questions about what Heeseung means by that. He didn't sound shocked, only mildly curious. Amused. Not even repulsed the way you were anticipating.
"More like now." Heeseung was clearly loving watching you squirm, seeing you panic at the audacity he had to go through with the stupid bet. "How soon can you get here?"
He said it. He actually said it.
There's some noise on the receiver, but Sunghoon sounded calm. "She asked for this?"
"Directly," Heeseung confirmed. "Explicitly, in fact."
Your cheeks burned further with humiliation. There was silence again. "Is she there?"
Heeseung held out the phone, turning down the volume a bit, tilting his head as though with mock pity. Now whatever answer Sunghoon had to give would be right against your ear. "He wants to talk to you."
Your mouth is suddenly dry as he passed you the phone, and you licked your lips as though that'll do any good. "I'm— I'm here."
"Did you really ask for me and Heeseung to fuck you?"
The words almost felt like a caress in your ear, but you're sure you're mistaking a disgusted scowl as a purr of lust. Your mind clearly couldn't be trusted tonight.
You looked back at Heeseung, still close enough for him to pick up on what's being said. You realized you have a chance to deny it all, pretend it was a joke gone too far, a prank. Heeseung would be true to his word, pretend it never happened.
And then your mind raced with everything that could happen.
God, this could be such a bad idea...
"I did."
There was a pause on Sunghoon's end, and it felt as though everyone in the room was soaking in your small confession, like you were in a booth with a priest at church all over again.
"I'll be there in 30."
Sunghoon hung up, the line going dead.
Your head felt as though it were filled with static, absorbing what had just happened.
Heeseung, however, wasted no time, immediately throwing his phone away and focusing all of his attention on you.
You could barely wrap your head around the situation, still trying to comprehend multiple facts at once. Heeseung wanted to fuck you. Sunghoon wanted to fuck you. Heeseung and Sunghoon were both going to fuck you. Now. At the same time.
You rapidly blinked, not even noticing the fact that Heeseung was drawing in closer, crowding your space more than ever.
"Is this—ha, I mean, well— is this for real? This can't be real." You absentmindedly shook your head, as though trying to wake yourself up from a dream.
"It's real." Heeseung's eyes were intense, staring at you in a whole new light now, one you couldn't help but tremble under. "It's happening."
"But— This can't—"
"Yes, it can."
"No, you're just fucking with me with another one of your silly pranks. Was this planned?" You laughed, knowing the idea would be so Heeseung. If they were secretly recording this there's no doubt the look on your face is priceless. You'd kill him if he posted it. "Funny. Fun one. You got me."
"Y/N." He grabbed your wrists, pulling you in so your chest was against his, staring you in the eye. "Sunghoon's going to be here in half an hour."
You stilled in his hold, gulping at his words as you slowly comprehended the truth of them.
"So you're all mine until he gets here."
That made your heart stop.
You were barely able to make out words.
"I... you don't..."
"I do." Heeseung emphasized. "Do you?"
Your mind felt as though it fully shut down, the only thought in your brain being how Heeseung's lips are closer than ever. "What?"
Heeseung didn't get impatient with you, instead being very understanding of the fact that he already turned you brainless without even really touching you. He moved a centimeter closer, his lips barely brushing against yours, like the particles that made up both of you were just passing by. "Do you want this?"
Your mind was in static mode again as Heeseung pulled one of your hands up to his chest, letting you feel his heartbeat against your palm.
"You want me and Hoonie?" Heeseung questioned further, clarifying. "I think we both made it very clear we want you."
Never in your life had you guessed your best friend would say that. You slowly came to terms that this very much wasn't a dream, and that Heeseung was actually saying this to you. "You want me?"
"I'll want you any way I can have you," Heeseung emphasized, a soft smile on his face. "Even with Hoon."
"I... I can't believe you'd both..."
"Hoon understands," he said, moving his lips closer to your pulse point below your ear. "He's wanted this longer than you'd think." His breath tickled your neck, and you shivered. "I'm more curious about how long you've wanted this."
You shuddered and found yourself pulling him closer, wanting to feel more than just his lips lightly brushing against you, teasing you when Sunghoon could be here in less than half an hour. How long had he known? Had he always been observant, and you just projected some oblivious facade onto him?
"You mean longer than the bathroom?"
Heeseung's gaze drifted down to your lips. "Did you?"
"I... maybe." You wanted to be flirtier, more enticing, but you were still somewhat in shock due to recent revelations. You were too stunned to even try to act sexy right now. "I feel like I'm suddenly discovering new things about you."
"There's a lot of things you're about to figure out. Just ask."
"How is it you know what I want?"
"Because, I know exactly how you feel about me," he purred in your ear, moving a lock of hair behind it. You held your breath when you felt the tip of his nose along your neck, so close, raising goosebumps. "I always have..." He dipped his head lower, pressing a small, soft kiss at the center of your neck. "I know how you feel about Sunghoon, too."
You knew there was no way he could miss the way you gulped at that.
"Constantly fighting with him, building up so much frustration... you wanna know he'd take it out on you, don't you?" He pressed his lips again at the base of your throat, sucking softly, whispering the dirty secret into your skin. "Wanna know how I'd tell him to do it?"
"Fuck." You couldn't deny the wave of heat that flooded to your core with his words.
He chuckled, watching you fight back against the urge of curling in on yourself with how aroused you were. His hands gripped your waist tighter as he slowly got off the couch to move in front of you, lips ghosting over the center of your ribcage as he traveled down your body. "Want me to show you?"
"Where's all t-this coming from?" You breathlessly smiled, still trying to grasp the fact that this was all real, and not a serious maladaptive daydreaming episode. Heeseung was always so sweet, so respectful. How were you supposed to predict this side of him?
"From you telling me you want my best friend and I to fuck you," he hissed, giving a small nip now just to have you feel the sting of his teeth on your skin instead.
"You m-made me say it!"
"Yeah? I'll make you beg for it too." He rose up to your face, brushing your hair out of the way so he could look into your eyes properly. "Tell me what you want, pretty girl."
His hand slid up to your neck, not tight, but present, like he wanted to measure your heartbeat himself to make sure you wouldn't lie to him.
You licked your lips, trying to swallow down your doubts of courage. The feeling of being so vulnerable to him in this context was baffling.
"I want for both you and Sunghoon to fuck me. Happy?" You managed to spit out the words, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Heeseung let out a wicked grin, whistling at your attitude. "Oh? Talk back, don't we? Yeah, Hoonie will fucking love you."
He finally pressed his lips against yours, hand sliding up to the base of your head , fingers tangling into your roots and keeping you locked in place as he devoured you, making sure your head wouldn't hurt from being pressed against the back of the couch. He wasn't tender or sweet, the way you probably would've predicted and fantasized about when you first met him, and the small budding crush you had on his cute features hadn't warped into something darker, more lustful. No, he was sure of his movements, kissing you with purpose, actions deliberate as he moved with noticeable skill that could only come from practice. His tongue slid against yours with an ease that made your knees weak.
Heeseung was infuriatingly good at kissing you. You supposed it was to be expected, with how much action he probably saw, face like that and all, but still. He had this way of kissing you that made the rest of the world disappear, with only his hands on your face and his lips on yours to ground you.
You eyes were fluttering shut, and soon you were both moving in tandem, finding a tune that only you two knew. The soft sounds of his lips smacking against yours filled the room, and the grip he had on your roots, pulling your hair properly this time, was driving you crazy.
"Please," you gasped the word into his mouth. He groaned and kissed you some more, his hand tightening as he pressed you further against him. You gripped onto his shirt, the taste of him so irresistible you forgot completely that he was your best friend, and you shouldn't be doing what you're about to with his best friend too.
You subconsciously spread your legs, drawing Heeseung in so you could grind your core against his.
He chuckled into your mouth, one hand moving down to your hip to pin you down and deny you. "Needy little thing, aren't you? We're just getting started. Let me take my time with you."
You wanted to scream at him that you two didn't exactly have time, but found your brain back to mush the moment he began kissing you again, lowering his hips to yours to slowly press his heat against you. His hand stayed on your hip, halting movement from you so that he could control the gradual pace, teasing and torturous as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. It felt so good to be pinned beneath him already, in his arms, like you two were made to fit together.
You moaned against his lips when the fabric of his jeans hit your clit in a particularly delicious fashion. He growled in response, hand cupping your chin better to angle your face a little more to the side, deepening the kiss as he slid his tongue in, letting it coax your lips along with his. He licked his way into your mouth, greedily swallowing more of your moans as the hand on your hip drifted down to your thigh, hitching it over his own hip to grind more securely against you.
He rolled his hips, pressing you further against the couch as you felt him get harder against you, his hand tightening against your thigh as he tried to pull you impossibly closer to him.
"So fucking good," he rasped against your lips, mind spinning at all the soft, weak little sounds that escaped you. "Can't believe I finally get to have you like this."
You kissed him harder, hands pressed against his face, wanting to memorize the feeling of his cheekbones against your fingertips. You gripped onto his hair, his shirt, anywhere you could reach, try to rock back against his hips and fully feel the bulge pressed against your pussy.
"Fuck, Heeseung..."
"Mmf, say that again." He bit your lip before pulling back.
He pressed up at an angle that hit the sweet spot against your clit, and you had no choice but to obey. "Heeseung!"
"Shit, you sound so whiny." He buried his head into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into the skin just to hear another pathetic sound leave your mouth. He sucked hard, and you knew it'd leave a mark. "Hoon's gonna lose his mind," he groaned into you.
You threw your head back, your hips quickening against him. "Hee, please, do something."
He snarled at your impatience, nipping at your neck again in punishment before smacking your thigh. "Be patient," he grit, blunt nails raking over where he slapped you. "You're mine right now, remember?"
You nodded, a shiver running up your spine as his fingers trailed further down your leg before going back up higher and higher, ghosting over the fabric of your underwear.
His thumb brushed over the lace of your panties, and he bit his lip in anticipation. "Shit, I don't think you even know what's coming."
You canted your hips to receive more of his touch. "M-Meaning?"
"Meaning I need to start getting you ready for when Hoon arrives," Hee said. He pulled on the waistband, dragging them down your legs and discarding them to the floor. "I need to make sure you're wet enough for both of us."
Hearing your best friend talk so dirty was enough to send your mind into a tizzy. You grabbed his hand and pressed him right against your sex, eager to not waste time and see how much he can offer you in twenty minutes. Heeseung took the hint, fingers sliding up and down, getting a feel for the glide and slick you've already produced.
"Shit, you're so wet already," Heeseung said in awe, lips parted as he admired the shine on his fingers from you. "Are you excited?"
"O-Obviously." You were barely able to contain the whine when he slides a digit inside, curling it up to search for your g-spot. "It's not every day a girl gets propositioned by a hot guy, let alone two."
He quirked a brow. "Oh? You think we're hot?"
Your cheeks shouldn't burn this much from stating the obvious. "I mean... you're not bad to look at. Don't let it get to your head."
Heeseung's grin only widened. "And Sunghoon?"
You glanced away, squirming a bit as you felt him find the sweet spot inside of you. "He's f-fine I guess."
"Look at you, getting so flustered," Heeseung cooed, bending down to peck at the flush in your cheeks. "You can admit you want him, baby. It's ok."
Hearing your best friend call you "baby" in this context was something else entirely. Before it always felt so casual, something you couldn't read into. Now he was saying it like you were his. Suddenly your hips were bucking against his hand more, your body beginning to take control of your mind.
He was speeding up, and your mind was steadily beginning to melt. "I-I—"
You felt more pressure build up as Heeseung slid in another finger, the wet squelching sounds of your pussy starting to get louder.
"You can tell him when he gets here," Heeseung whispered against your lips, wanting a front row seat to all of your pathetic whimpers and moans while they were still just for him. "He'll be thrilled."
Another whine escaped your lips from Heeseung's ministrations.
"Fuck, why are you so good at this?" You muttered half to yourself, in disbelief that Heeseung was already making you feel better within five minutes than your ex did in five months.
He sucked against your neck, purposefully marking you, humming against the skin as he sloppily thrust his fingers inside. "Mm, you're just easy to ruin. You can't even hide how turned on you are."
You felt heat pool down into your abdomen, your tells showing. "Hee, I'm getting close."
To your dismay he pulled his fingers out of you, giving the side of your neck sweet kisses in apology. "Not yet. You'll need to wait."
He swallowed your whine of frustration, cradling your face in his hands and kissing you, the glide of his tongue against yours somewhat distracting you from the ache left between your legs. His kiss was wet, using just enough tongue for it to feel filthy, making sure you memorized the way he tasted.
Once your orgasm had surely died down he kissed his way down your jaw and your chest, getting on his knees, face all the way down to your now neglected pussy. He sighed with content when he saw how needy and wound up you already were, your body begging him to break it in properly. He couldn't help himself, giving your sex a sweet kiss as well, mouth trapping your clit and giving it the attention it was so desperate for.
Your back arched off the couch as Heeseung began eating you out, the wet muscle traveling between your folds and lapping at all you had to offer, his jaw widening so he could feel more of you. He moaned, and the vibrations made you buck against his mouth. He pinned you down firmly, throwing an arm over your hips, sucking on your clit reverently. Burying your hand in his hair, you let yourself get lost in the pleasure, his tongue dragging along you.
You looked down at him, his lashes long, kissing the apples of his cheeks as he focused on your taste, your breathy whimpers, the way your thighs twitched next to his head when he focused his tongue on the spot right beneath your clit.
"Fu-uck," you moaned, your nails scratching against his scalp as he got you close to the edge again. "Feels so good, Hee."
He moaned into you again in response, making you dig your heels into his back.
Pleasure pooled down to your abdomen, and you felt your abs begin to tighten. Before you could even think about hiding your orgasm from Heeseung, he's pulling away, making you shiver with the cold air against your hitting your bare cunt.
"No!" You whined, losing your grip on his hair as he rose up, rubbing your thighs in apology as he planted his lips to yours, replacing your complaints with the taste of yourself. His hand came up to your throat, not tight, but enough pressure for you to want to lean into it.
Heeseung didn't stop kissing you until your protests died and your muscles relaxed again, and you were just a desperate, breathless mess beneath him.
When he finally let you have air, your eyes were glossy with the second lost orgasm. You slumped over and laid on the couch, panting with tear-brimmed eyes, frustrated beyond belief.
Heeseung gave an apologetic look, like if it were up to him, you'd be cumming your brains out by now.
"Poor baby." He pouted along with you, hand traveling down to gently caress at your folds, spreading them between his fingers and feeling how wet and denied you were. "Bet it hurts so bad, doesn't it?"
You nodded, squirming under his touch, wanting so badly to cum against his fingers.
He didn't give you hope yet, though, sliding his hand up to your lower belly. "It'll feel better soon," he promised, slowly pushing down and applying more pressure. "It'll feel really good once me and Hoon are right here."
You gasped, biting your lip at the thought of them that deep inside you.
As if on cue, the front door opened, revealing a panting Park Sunghoon.
"That couldn't have been thirty minutes," Heeseung laughed, rolling off you as Sunghoon strolled closer to you two, his eyes devouring the sight of you teary eyed, cunt exposed and swollen, ready to be taken. His chest rose and fell as he breathed heavily, nostrils flaring as he stared at you with hooded eyes. The lust was palpable, every muscle in his body appearing tight, tense at seeing you so vulnerable already. Heeseung moved behind you, propping you up so your back was against his chest, adding to Sunghoon's view.
"I may have sped a little," Sunghoon admitted, biting his lower lip. His eyes never left you, as though he were transfixed. "And used the stairs instead of the elevator."
Heeseung squeezed your face, grinning down at you, like he understood Sunghoon's obsession unquestionably. "Hear that baby? You're not the only desperate one."
Your eyes locked with Sunghoon, whose gaze was intense and made it impossible for you to look away.
Sunghoon cautiously raised a hand to your knee, slowly tracing upward as you shivered under his touch. "Has she cum yet?"
"Not yet. I've been edging her. Figured you wouldn't want to miss it." Heeseung moved your hair to the side to kiss your neck, pulling one of your thighs to the side to open you up more for Sunghoon. "She does this cute little whine whenever she's close."
Your cheeks flushed, and your thighs twitched in response. "J-Just hurry up and fucking touch me already."
Sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek, and before you knew it he landed a sharp slap right against your cunt.
"Fuck!" Your back arched, your hips bucking until Sunghoon roughly slammed them back down, planting another smack against your swollen folds.
"Is that how we ask for things?"
"It's how I—fuck!" You couldn't hold back the pornographic moan that tumbled out of your lips as Sunghoon did it again, though this time rubbing your clit after, as though to blur the pain into pleasure.
"Such a mouth on you still." Sunghoon clicked his tongue, as though disappointed. "Heeseung didn't teach you manners while I was on my way?"
"We didn't have much time for our lesson," Heeseung excused, pulling your shirt further up your torso to run his hand over your exposed skin, his touch gentle in contrast to Sunghoon's. "She's still learning."
"How many times did you edge her?" Sunghoon trapped your clit between two of his fingers, applying pressure on the tiny bud to watch you gasp.
"Twice." Heeseung raised the shirt over your tits now, trapping a nipple between his digits similar to Sunghoon.
"Wanna go for a third, princess?" Hoon slapped your cunt again, making you cry out and shake your head, desperate just the way Heeseung described. Still, your reaction every time he strikes your pussy was noticeable.
Sunghoon wasn't going to let you live it down.
"You like when I slap your little pussy don't you? Don't tell me we've got a painslut on our hands."
Your cheeks burned at the term, and your breath caught with embarrassment. Both could see it all over your face that you were getting hot and bothered by how he treated you.
Sunghoon chuckled a bit at that. "Then be a good girl for us, and maybe, just maybe, we'll let you cum."
Your eyes watered even more, but even then, you nodded in agreement, now under the mercy of two men.
Sunghoon smirked, victorious. "Atta girl."
"You should feel how tight she is," Heeseung suggested, giving a reassuring squeeze.
Sunghoon finally sank two fingers into you, making your breath hitch. Sunghoon's gaze darkened, already imagining how your walls would squeeze his cock. "Fuck, what a tight little slut."
Your thighs twitched at the name, and both men took a mental note your reaction to being degraded.
Sunghoon started curling his fingers inside of you, pressing against your g-spot, having the heel of his palm press deep against your clit. He licked his lips, eyes flickering between your pussy and your face, examining your open mouth and your small mewls as he started to work up what Heeseung started, the wet sounds of his digits inside of you filling the room.
"Fuck, you're so fucking wet. Hee must've really worked you up, huh?" Sunghoon purred, sliding in a third digit easily, not missing how your eyes started to roll back as he stretched you out. "Bet you've been dreaming of this since the party."
"S-Shut up," you stammered out. "Says the one who was forming a boner."
"Yeah?" Sunghoon started increasing the power of his thrusts, veins starting to pop out of his forearm as he did so. "Why don't you just shut up and let out more of those pretty moans?"
"Why don't you—"
Your words were cut off by Heeseung pressing his two middle digits against your tongue, rendering you silent.
"Now now, play nice you two," Hee chastised, shaking his head. "I thought my baby agreed to be good, no?"
He slipped his fingers out of your mouth, earning a glare.
"Come here." Heeseung pulled your jaw to face him, kissing you and muffling any insults you had to throw at Sunghoon. His tongue glided against yours, quelling your anger and making you buck up needily against the younger man's hand.
When you broke apart, you weren't even given a second to breathe, Sunghoon's large hand being the one holding your face now, focusing your attention back onto him.
"What? No kiss for Hoonie?" He grinned at your scowl. "Or is Hee's baby too good for it?"
"Give him a kiss, baby," Heeseung encouraged. "Let me watch."
You licked your lips, only allowing for a moment of trepidation before leaning into Sunghoon. His lips met yours readily, hungry as he kissed you, the pace of his fingers quickening with every stroke. He growled when you moaned against his mouth, grinding his palm firmer against your clit in reward. He pressed his mouth against you like he was trying to brand you with his kiss, make you feel it even after he was gone.
He slipped his tongue inside your mouth, demanding, his other hand sliding into the roots at the back of your head, angling your face just how he liked so he could kiss you deeper. He groaned as you whimpered against him, trying to keep up a good fight. He made it look too easy, the effortless way his mouth dominated yours bringing you to shame. He sucked on your tongue a bit, the helpless sound you made in response only making him harder.
When he broke away you were both left staring at one another, gathering breath, analyzing the blown out pupils of one another.
This was Park Sunghoon. The man you were constantly fighting for Heeseung's attention. The one you couldn't spend five minutes with without starting an argument.
You weren't sure which one of you leaned in first, but suddenly you were both slamming your mouths against each other again, but this time hungrier. More desperate. There was a carnal desire in how Sunghoon kissed you now, like he wanted to eat you and make you cry for every bullshit fight you put up against him.
Heeseung was mesmerized, his eyes never leaving you and Sunghoon as you clung onto the younger, trying to bring him closer to you, clawing at his clothes as you expressed your pent up sexual frustration through the kiss. Heeseung's hand slid down between you and Sunghoon's, his digits playing with your clit. You whined against Sunghoon's mouth, your orgasm starting to approach.
You broke away from the kiss, whining just like promised. "Please let me cum this time, please!"
Sunghoon chuckled at how easy you were to break this time, purposefully slamming his fingers against the sweet spot inside of you repeatedly. "Aw, should I? But you were being such a brat earlier."
"Let her cum," Heeseung crooned, sympathizing with you. "She's got a lot ahead of her."
Sunghoon always did have a habit of going along with Heeseung's desires.
But he wasn't going to be nice about it.
"You hear that?" Sunghoon scoffed, grabbing your face and bringing you close to his, his eye contact intense as he studied your pitiful expression. "Congratulations, sweetheart. You get to cum until your brain fucking melts."
You arched against Heeseung as Sunghoon jackhammered his fingers into your cunt, right behind the spot where Heeseung was still toying with your clit. Hee doubled his efforts, pressing down harder, making sure to give attention to the spot right underneath that had your toes curling. Your thighs began to shake as your orgasm overtook you, and suddenly clear liquid was gushing all over both of their fingers.
Sunghoon's jaw dropped open, watching you squirt against both of their hands. He was completely enraptured, mouth dropping open in awe as he watched you shake like a leaf.
"Fuck, that's it, make a mess for me. Make a mess all over Hoonie's fingers," he muttered to himself.
You couldn't stop it, the pleasure coming over you like a tidal wave. You gripped onto both of them to steady yourself, droplets flying out of you as you shook. Neither man stopped, both continuing until you were drained of every last drop, eventually slumping over against Heeseung, the aftershocks of your orgasm riding it's course along your thighs until it was no more.
Both men pulled their hands away, your legs giving residual twitches at the sensation.
"I... I think I ruined the couch.." Your voice had that breathless, cute little whine that made it impossible for anyone to be mad.
Not they would be in the first place.
"You did perfect baby." Heeseung kissed the corner of your mouth. "It's about to get a lot messier anyways."
You were limp and complaint as they both maneuvered you onto all fours, the dark stain forming on the couch mocking from beneath you. Heeseung yanked off his clothes behind you, shedding each article one by one.
The tip of Hee's cock nudged along your entrance, sliding up and down your folds and catching at your clit every time he wanted to watch you cringe from sensitivity. Soon the small shocks would stop, and when you stopped tensing he focused more on your hole, slowly breaching it. It gave way, letting him push inside the first inch.
You held your breath as he started to get the entire tip inside, your walls stretching despite Hoon's thick fingers. Sunghoon cradled your face in his hands, observing your struggle.
"Poor thing. You look like you're about to cry any second."
He leaned in, kissing you when Heeseung got past the tip, now slipping another inch inside you. Hoon's lips were a good distraction, letting you focus on the natural instinct to follow his flow instead of the overwhelming sensation of Heeseung filling you up. Sunghoon slipped a hand down your body, gently twirling his fingers around your clit, coaxing you to let more of Hee in.
"That's it. Let him in. Let him stretch you out so I can have my turn. I'm not allowed to fuck you until after. "
You moaned against his lips. "Mmf— who says?"
You could feel him smile, like you had been let in on a shared secret.
"We made a deal after the party." Heeseung hissed from behind as he sank further into you. "But we had been thinking about it for a while."
You furrowed your brows, trying to form a coherent sentence and not focus on how good Heeseung was stretching you out right now. "W-What deal?"
Heeseung smirked at the expression you wore as he pushed in more, now over halfway inside. "That if we did this..." Both of you let out a strangled noise of pleasure when he bottomed out inside you, his balls now flush against your cunt. "I get first dibs."
Sunghoon laughed, patting your cheek condescendingly. "Bro code."
That's when it dawned on you that you had fallen into Hee's trap, just as he planned. The moment you asked the question, it was game over for you.
Heeseung pulled back some, giving a few experimental, shallow thrusts, letting you get used to the feeling of him. Eventually you stopped tensing up, loosening as you became accustomed to the sensation, your nerves coming alight as he started to go deeper.
"How's that dick feel, baby?" Sunghoon mocked you with the pet name, combing his fingers through your hair in faux comfort, keeping your face angled up so he could drink in every expression you couldn't hide. "Is it just like you've always imagined?"
"Fu-uck you." Your jab lacked it's usual venom, instead becoming breathy at the end as Heeseung hit a sweet spot.
"Ask nicely," Sunghoon bit back.
You were about to respond when Heeseung's hand jotted out in front of you, grabbing Sunghoon by the nape and pressing his mouth against yours, forcing the two of you to kiss to stop your bickering.
"Behave, both of you," Heeseung scolded, gritting it out as he started using longer strokes, letting you feel how long and deep he was every time he pulled out to the tip to thrust back in to the hilt.
Sunghoon seemed to melt against your mouth, not even arguing with Heeseung as he moved his lips against yours. Every moan that escaped your mouth and into his he took greedily, tilting his head to the right to kiss you thoroughly as each of Heeseung's thrusts pressed you closer together.
Heeseung really was such a good mediator.
You broke away for a breath of air, glaring at Sunghoon and his swollen, pouty lips. He glared back, though it seemed to be because you pulled away when he didn't get his fill of kissing you.
"I still hate you," you said, though the words have no bite. Not when each one comes out breathless and weak along with Heeseung's strokes. Not when you give Sunghoon that stare that lets him know that even if you did hate him, you wanted him in equal measure.
"C'mere. You don't need to talk anymore." Sunghoon grabbed your face, making you arch your back further as he started kissing you again, unashamed with the wet, sloppy sounds of your lips smacking together or the low growls that emanated from his chest.
You two stayed making out for a moment, your lips repeatedly crashing against his as Heeseung rocked you back and forth on his cock. Neither of you seemed to mind, though, both breathless and panting into each other's mouths in a mess of tongue and teeth, and you desperately grasped onto Hoon for stability. Hoon sucked on your tongue, moaning when he felt you melt in his arms.
He finally let you go, pulling off his shirt, hands moving to his pants and pulling his flushed, aching cock out with little finesse. He's about the same size as Heeseung, and your jaw already began to ache as you examined the challenging girth.
Sunghoon tapped the tip of his cock against your pouty lips. "C'mon, open that bratty mouth. There's a good girl."
You gave a gentle kiss to the head, and then another, opening your mouth more with each one as you started using your tongue, slowly making out with it the way you would either of them. You closed your eyes, suckling on it a bit, the same way he did on the tip of your tongue earlier.
Sunghoon seemed to be enamored with the sight, jaw dropping open as you slowly progressed to kitten licks, peering up with them with the faux innocent look that only got him harder.
He muttered under his breath, curling his fingers into the roots of your hair and slowly pressing you down further.
You complied as he pushed your head down, opening your mouth greater as the full head was suctioned by your lips.
Sunghoon hissed when you flicked your tongue on the underside of his cock where the head met the shaft, and he slowly sank you down further, the gradual slide of your throat down on him making his toes curl.
Sunghoon tossed his head back, feeling your throat suction around him as he start to fuck it properly. "Oh shit. Don't stop, just like that baby. Fuck, you're so good at this. Your mouth feels so fucking good."
He was decent enough to give a slow pace, following along with Heeseung who did the same in order for you to get used to being filled from both ends. Sunghoon did his best not to buck into your mouth or push too far into the back of your throat. It started to get harder when Heeseung started fucking you faster, though, your body naturally being pushed forward again and again, making you gag further and further down Sunghoon's cock until his eyes were rolling to the back of his throat.
"Holy shit," Heeseung moaned, slapping your ass thrice in quick succession. "My baby's being such a good whore for us, isn't she? Fuck, yes, take it. Suck that dick baby, c'mon."
Fuck, hearing Hee of all people start moaning that you're a whore was spurring Sunghoon on. Slowly his concerns and restraint of getting you used to two cocks melted away. You seemed to be a natural already, and Hoon was always the type to tease and bully what he was secretly fond of. Heeseung was well aware. How else do you break in a toy?
"Look at me. You want both of us? You want to be a greedy little slut for one night?" Sunghoon moaned, hand cradling your throat to feel how he moved inside of it. "'Course you do."
Heeseung slapped your ass again, your yelp muffled around Sunghoon's cock. Heeseung's hooded gaze stayed glued on how your ass would ripple against his hips with every snap. Every time he looked up he'd see Sunghoon's bottom lip trapped between his teeth, the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, the way his eyes never left your face as he tangled his digits into roots.
His grip tightened on your hair as he bobbed your head up and down, Heeseung's thrusts pushing you further down on both of them from either end.
"Fuck, you're both so fucking hot," Heeseung growled. "Such a good slut, taking our cocks like this. You're such a good girl."
Sunghoon grinned, looking down at your pathetic form, forced to take everything they had to offer. Your face was so flushed, your eyes trying to look up at Sunghoon's without rolling back. When he looked up at his best friend he saw his his hands digging into your waist to pull you closer, how his dark stare devoured the view, how his eyes kept meeting Sunghoon's to see if he was also losing his mind. He was. "How does his dick feel? Is he hitting the spot you need?"
You moaned in response, unable to give a clearer answer due to how thoroughly he was using your mouth.
Sunghoon pulled you off for a moment, letting you moan out loud now in tune with Heeseung's thrusts. He tightened the fist in your roots, angling your head to look up at his cocky grin from above.
"You want me to hit it too?"
You bit your lower lip and grinned in confirmation, finally smiling along with him for once. It melted away though into a face of pleasure as Heeseung's hand came around to your front, toying with your clit as his staccato thrusts picked up rhythm.
"Fuck, I'm fucking close," he moaned. "Need to feel you cum around me. Need to feel everything. Need—"
Heeseung's words were cut off by Sunghoon's free hand grabbing his nape and pulling him in, slamming their lips above you. Sunghoon slipped his tongue inside, eyes closed as he angled his head to deepen the kiss, swallowing Heeseung's moans.
Heeseung grunted in Sunghoon's mouth, panting as his thrusts got sloppier and his digits rubbed harder against your clit. Sunghoon's hold on your roots was firm, keeping your neck craned, forcing you to watch how their tongues tangled together and listen to their lips smack, Heeseung's groans turning into whines as he got closer to the edge, all being devoured by Sunghoon.
It was too much, and before you knew it your cunt was spasming around Heeseung's cock, cries muffled around Sunghoon's.
Heeseung couldn't last much longer, hips stuttering as he felt you cum around him, his whimper against Sunghoon's tongue delicious as he buried himself as deep as he could, cumming inside you.
The two men finally broke apart, a spit of string still connecting them before snapping, leaving both breathless with parted, swollen lips.
Heeseung tried to recollect himself, garner his breath, try to regain some semblance of self. Slowly he pulled out of you, both of you winching at the sensation. You collapsed down onto the couch, a boneless heap. Slowly, white appeared at your entrance, Heeseung's cum beginning to slowly trickle out of you.
"Fuck... look at that." Sunghoon reached over and spread your folds, more cum dribbling out. He put a finger in, coating it in Heeseung and you, pumping it in and out, watching you shiver with sensitivity. "Can you take more?"
"Mmfuck," you whined in response, hips wiggling. Whether you were chasing Sunghoon's digit or running from it, you couldn't tell.
"C'mon, baby. Let Hoonie fuck you good. It's about time you both start getting along," Heeseung cooed, running a comforting hand up and down your thigh to ground you.
Sunghoon added another digit again, watching your face contort in pleasure as you squeezed your eyes shut. "Don't you want to make it up to me? All those times you were an annoying brat?"
Heeseung smiled, hand going up to comb your hair out of your face, his deceiptively sweet face reassuring you. "It's time for you two to fuck it out."
You nodded, and soon Sunghoon was repositioning you onto your back, spreading your legs wider, pushing one of your legs up and over his arm, positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed in, with both of you sucking in a deep breath. You grabbed onto the arm holding up your leg, biting your lip as he buried in hilt deep. Despite how open Heeseung fucked you, you still felt tight as ever around Sunghoon, and you could feel him right up in your guts the way Heeseung promised.
Sunghoon bit his lip hard, trying (and failing) to contain his grunt as he sank into your heat.
"Holy shit. You feel better than I dreamed."
He gave a small, experimental thrust of his hips, examining how your breath hitched and your thighs clenched. Here you were, fucking the man who annoyed you most, who you were always fighting for Hee's attention. You supposed this was a good way for both of you to get it at the same time, Heeseung utterly entranced as he watched Sunghoon's first few strokes inside of you.
More of Heeseung's cum spilled out of you as Sunghoon pushed further in, the first slide going much smoother due to how much Heeseung filled you up.
Sunghoon's pumps were shallow at first, noticing your small winces from overstimulation and possible soreness. Judging by the slight rasp in your voice that's already started to appear, you were going to need a bit of a recovery period after tonight.
Heeseung was growing impatient, however, believing Sunghoon should've came in you closer to yesterday. He was eager to see you filled to the brim with both him and Sunghoon, to see Sunghoon's cock limp and drained because of you. And here the two of you were, wasting time like always when you could be fucking each other's brains out.
"What, don't tell me you're scared of her now Hoon? After all that talk?" Heeseung laughed, clapping Sunghoon on the back of his nape, pulling him close. "Thought you wanted to fuck her?"
That got Sunghoon going a bit, his next thrust sharper than the sloppy, slow rolls he was giving before. Your breath hitched, the sensitive spot inside you slowly drawing in heat.
"Just—" Sunghoon bit his lip, trying to control himself despite the devil at his shoulder. "Don't want it to hurt."
The laugh Heeseung barked out made him feel silly.
The grin Hee gave you bordered on menacing, like he was reaching his wits end. "Did you forget already?" The sharp smack he delivered to your swollen folds had you curl into on yourself, clamping down on Sunghoon and causing him to rut harder into you, trying to sink deeper in. "She likes it."
Hee's words woke Sunghoon up from his worrisome daze, and he drinks in your expression from Heeseung's action. The way your eyes watered and your lower lip trembled, but also the way you opened your legs further, as though asking for more.
The word pops up in Sunghoon's head again.
"Painslut," he growled.
Heeseung grinned wickedly as Sunghoon began to properly pull his hips back, no longer restraining himself and delivering sharp, heavy thrusts that had his balls clapping against your cheeks. The plap plap plap accompanied by the wet gush of your pussy repeatedly swallowing his cock, as well as the pornographic noises you were both omitting, was music to Hee's hears.
Both of you were staring at each other with such intensity, eyes never leaving one another's as Sunghoon drilled into you, mouth dropping open with yours as you both experienced mind-numbing pleasure with each other for the first time when you were supposed to hate each other.
Heeseung could practically taste the mixed emotions from both of you in the air, and he lived off of it.
"Fuck her open." Heeseung bit his lip, watching Sunghoon pull back and roughly slam into you again. "Harder. Make sure she feels it."
Sunghoon furrowed his brows, delivering a harder thrust, savoring the moan that escaped you as he reached in deeper, tip hitting right against the spot that had you feeling weak.
Heeseung sucked in a breath. "That's it. Now you're doing it. Just look how wet she is for you."
You felt Sunghoon twitch inside you at that. Heeseung's commentary was doing wonders for both you and Sunghoon, both of you getting seemingly more flushed. Hoon's thrusts quickened, his enthusiasm showing as he repeatedly hit that spot that had you gasping again and again and again.
"Fuck." Sunghoon grunted, his grip on your waist tightening as he pumped inside. "Feel that? Feel how deep I am?"
He emphasized his question with a brutal thrust that had you scrambling for purchase, grabbing onto Heeseung as your body began to move with Sunghoon's. "Yes, H-Hoon!"
"Fuck yeah you do. You love this, don't you? Love letting me use you like a little slut." Sunghoon groaned, watching the bulge protruding from your lower abdomen. "Still hate me?"
"Yes," you spat out bitterly, your pride still clinging on in some semblance as Hoon started pounding into you.
Both Heeseung and Sunghoon laughed, and it only made your cheeks burn hotter.
"No you don't." Sunghoon landed a smack against your pussy, feeling you clench around him in response. "Holy shit, you got so tight. C'mon, squeeze me baby. Show me how much this pussy loves me."
The cry you let out was pathetic, unwittingly obeying his command as your walls contracted around him.
"There we go. That's a good girl. So you can listen."
Heeseung hummed, enjoying the sight before him, watching both of you slowly unravel in each other. He saw it coming a mile away. He was just glad he got to see it finally happen first hand.
"I'm just so glad to see my best friends finally getting along." He pressed a kiss against your cheek, the action surprisingly tender given the filth of the situation. He pulled back, moving behind Sunghoon so he could watch the view from his friend's perspective.
Both men watched how coated Sunghoon's cock was in Hee's cum, the white glistening along his shaft every time he pulled back. Heeseung's cum helped make the glide easier, extra lubricant added on top of your already dripping wet pussy. You could feel the wetness coating your inner thighs, and wouldn't be surprised if the surface area only grew as Sunghoon continued using you like this.
"Fuck, that's so hot," Sunghoon moaned, tossing his head back and drilling into you with more fervor, veins popping along his forearms as he slammed his hips against yours. "You're so hot. 'Course a pretty girl like you likes being fucked like a slut."
"So pretty," Heeseung agreed, biting his lip, eyes glued to where both of you were joined. "You're both so fucking hot."
He tilted Sunghoon's chin, turning him to face him as he planted his lips against the younger. Sunghoon was responsive to say the least, pressing against Heeseung harder, his hips stuttering for a moment as his brain tried to keep up. Heeseung's other hand slid down Sunghoon's abs, raking his nails along them to make Sunghoon shiver and open his mouth wider.
Sunghoon panted, his thrusts getting sloppier as he moaned into Heeseung's mouth. You could see glimpses of their tongues dancing together with every part of their lips, the whimpers that Heeseung swallowed only driving you closer to the edge. Hearing Hoon's soft pants and moans, muffled against Hee's lips as he held his face tight in his hand, not letting him free for even a second even as he grew breathless and his whines turned needy, was enough masturbation material for a lifetime.
"Fuck fuck fuck, I'm close," Sunghoon moaned against Heeseung's mouth, the words barely decipherable with how Heeseung was devouring him. He whimpered, the sounds getting cut off or replaced with the sound of smacking lips, Heeseung’s grip firm and unrelenting.
Heeseung finally let Sunghoon go, letting the younger man moan and suck in deep, greedy breaths of air. Heeseung's lips were shiny and swollen, and he stared down at where Sunghoon was absolutely destroying you, his thrusts starting to get sloppier with every pump. "Cum inside."
Sunghoon's eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck—"
Heeseung looked down at you, where your eyes nearly crossed with Sunghoon abusing your g-spot, the prospect of being filled up by your biggest annoyance making your back arch against the cushions.
"You want it, right?" Heeseung reached up and pressed his hand down on your lower abdomen, feeling his best friend through the barrier. "I can feel how deep Hoon is inside you. You want it right here, right? Right where I'm pressing."
He pushed harder, making both you and Sunghoon cry out. "Yes! Please, please Hoon. Cum in me. I'm so close."
Sunghoon's hand moved down to your clit, pressing demanding circles against it to drive you to insanity. "Cum for me then. Make your pussy beg for it."
Before you knew it you were doing exactly that.
"Fuck, that's it," Heeseung hissed. He leaned more of his weight on the hand pressing down on you, his grin mischievous and wicked. "Good girl."
The combined stimulation from both of them had you spasming around Hoon, your walls involuntarily quaking and squeezing his girth as promised. Sunghoon let out a guttural groan, your orgasm triggering his own as he hunched over you, his hips stuttering as he began to coat your insides.
You felt the warmth as he starts to fill you up, some gushing out of you already and between your cheeks. Heeseung stopped pressing down on your stomach and grabbed Sunghoon's ass, having him gasp and rut deeper, cockhead firmly pressed against the deepest spot inside of you.
"Keep fucking her," Hee commanded, his tone leaving no room for question.
Sunghoon did as he was told, continuing to pump into you as you started to cringe from the overstimulation. Sunghoon was too, his groans morphing into weak little whines as he let out every drop into you, fucking you still. You could see the mix of pain and pleasure in his face, his thrusts slowing down as his cock began to soften.
Heeseung squeezed. "Don't stop," he ordered. "Keep fucking her. Don't you dare stop."
Hoon, the loyal, pathetic friend he was, obeyed. His weak, stuttering thrusts continued, overstimulating you both as his pelvis rocked against your clit. His pumps were shallower now, lacking the power from before, as though every thrust now took something out of him. Both of you were left breathless, staring into each other's eyes, tears brimming them as you both broke further under Heeseung's command. The man watched with a shit eating grin, clearly pleased watching your glassy gazes.
Sunghoon's head dipped down, and it took every ounce of strength not to collapse on top of you, humping you slightly with what he had left to give, his hips stuttering and sloppy. You felt a tear fall on your collarbone as he whined, not stopping his movements until Heeseung gently pushed him back.
Both you and Sunghoon cringed as he finally pulled out, the white appearing immediately and trickling down on the sheets. Sunghoon slumped over you, breathing heavily, burying his face in the crook of your neck as both of you finally got to come down from your highs.
It turned out, however, that Heeseung was the hardest to satisfy.
He sneered, pulling Sunghoon off of you and scoffing at how he broke before you.
"What are you doing? Clean her up since she's been so nice to you."
Heeseung gripped Sunghoon by the roots, lifting his head and planting him face first into your used pussy.
Sunghoon obeyed, squeezing his eyes shut as he opened his jaw wider, letting you melt in his mouth. He lapped up Hee's and his own cum readily, humming with satisfaction, his ministrations becoming greedy. You cringed from the sensitivity, but Heeseung didn’t let you run from it, using a hand to pin you down as he leaned over you and kissed the pain away. You tried to focus on how his lips moved against yours, but still found yourself bucking against Hoon's mouth and whining into Heeseung’s.
Heeseung smiled, tightening his grip against Sunghoon's scalp as he pushed him harder against you, chuckling at the tears in your eyes.
"See baby? I'm having him make up for being so mean to you," Heeseung cooed. "What do we say?"
"T-thank you," you weakly stammered out, feeling the coil tighten for the last time.
"There we go. I'll even help."
He shoved your legs further apart to make room for himself, pushing Sunghoon's head lower so he could slide his tongue inside. You gasped when Heeseung's mouth joined, the dual sensation of two tongues against you bringing you closer to an orgasm no matter how much your body screamed.
Sunghoon rose his head up higher, tongue meshing against Heeseungs as both slid over your clit, trapping it beneath the pressure of the two muscles. Neither man seemed to shy away from each other, and you could hear the wet smack of their lips against each other as they made out, your cunt acting as a third.
Your thighs trembled, the feeling of both of them at the same time, and the visual stimulus of their eyes peaking up at you from between your legs, made the final orgasm of the night especially satisfying. You gave what was left of yourself, seeing white and feeling as though you were floating for a moment. Slowly, you came back down, feeling their hands rub soothingly along your legs and waist.
Both were panting just as hard as you, their pink, swollen lips an enviable shade, glossed with orgasm who-even-knows. Heeseung had a smug, calm smile on his face, whereas Hoon had heavy lids, exhaustion starting to set in his bones with how spent he now was.
Heeseung patted your head gently, a stark juxtaposition to his rough demeanor prior. "Back to Earth?" He quipped.
You nodded, post-millionth-nut clarity settling in as you realized your best friend and his just gave you the best sex of your life.
"I guess now I have a better answer for all of those people asking if we've fucked," you joked.
That earned a laugh from Heeseung, and even a grin from Sunghoon, who was usually impervious to your quips.
"You're so cute." Whether or not Sunghoon meant to say that out loud was unclear, and you weren't given enough time to think about it because soon he was having you taste yourself on his lips. And him. And Heeseung.
Heeseung was absolutely thrilled watching his two best friends make out, fucking pervert that he is. Everything went just according to plan, even better than predicted, and now he could finally reap the rewards of all his hard work.
pairing: jungwon x reader
genre: soulmate au, mega FLUFF
word count: 6.6k
summary: in a world where each person has a soulmate mark indicating where they will be touched by their soulmate for the first time, there’s jungwon—the soccer team captain you’d like to be ruined by forever—who has no soulmate mark at all. what does that make you, someone whose mark has changed color because of him?
author's note: finally!! here's your most awaited blond jungwon fic that i skipped sleep for<3333 inspired by this amazing prompt my friend sent me.
One touch and you got me stoned. Higher than I've ever known.
You call the shots and I follow. Sunrise, but the night still young.
No words, but we speak in tongues. If you let me, I might say too much.
You sat near the front row, posture perfect, eyes narrowed as Professor Min’s lecture on ancient mythology took a surprising turn. Today’s topic wasn’t just history—it was soulmate lore, the mysterious marks everyone was born with, and the myths that surrounded them. The professor’s calm, seasoned voice filled the room, but the air buzzed with barely contained excitement. Everyone was alert, even the usual back-row whisperers, captivated by the promise of something rare: a sanctioned discussion about their most private marks.
“These soulmate marks,” Professor Min began, his gaze sweeping the room with a faint smile, “are said to be the final traces of a bond forged in a past life. Legends tell us that in each lifetime, we may be separated from our soulmates, lost to distance or circumstance. But the marks,” he gestured to his own faintly darkened palm, “are said to be the soul’s way of leaving a trail—a reminder.”
A murmur rippled through the room. Everyone had a mark, a small patch of inky darkness, as distinct as fingerprints, mapped out on their bodies. Some had them on their palms or fingertips, waiting for the day a handshake or brush of fingers would light up that mark with color. Others had them in more curious places, whispering of fated touches in the most unlikely moments.
"The legend says," Professor Min continued, "that these marks were painted by one’s soulmate in a past life, a vow made in hopes to meet again, to find each other across time."
You clenched your pen a little tighter, the faint tickle of wonder battling the urge to keep your expression blank and unfeeling. You’d always kept your interest in soulmate marks private. They seemed so full of mystery, and the idea of your soulmate waiting for you somewhere was oddly… reassuring. You glanced down, conscious of the mark behind your knee, hidden like a strange secret that even you could barely understand. What kind of first touch would even reach there? The thought was both amusing and baffling, and you stifled a wry smile.
Around you, other students leaned in to chat, loud enough that their conversations blended into a steady hum. Your classmate Arin nudged her friend, laughing as she displayed the faint mark on her palm. “I’ve been dying to know who’ll shake my hand one day,” she whispered excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope.
But your gaze drifted just beyond Arin, landing instead on a familiar figure lounging in the middle row with his legs stretched out, looking every bit like he was born to disrupt things without lifting a finger. Jungwon. Handsome in a way that seemed almost unfair, with striking, dark eyes framed by lashes that cast subtle shadows on his cheeks, and hair the color of midnight that fell in soft, tousled waves. He had this effortless, magnetic presence that drew people toward him, like he knew he didn’t need to try.
As captain of the soccer team and one of the most well-known faces on campus, Jungwon somehow managed to look both sharp and relaxed, as if the attention his looks or reputation brought him meant nothing. You’d been crushing on him since last year, an avid fan always present at his games, cheering him on like a lovesick fool. Whenever he scored a goal, you felt your heart leap, and you couldn’t help but unleash your inner fangirl, your excitement spilling over as you screamed his name. Right now, he seemed half-listening to his friends, a hint of a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back, eyes drifting up to the ceiling before refocusing on his friends. It was that easygoing confidence that made him impossible not to notice—and, for you, impossible not to think about.
It was a boy from his friend group, Jay, who interrupted the class chatter by slapping a hand down on the table and teasing, “Come on, Won. You don’t have a soulmate mark, my foot. No one gets off that easy.” The comment was light-hearted but loaded, and more than a few students turned to look.
To your surprise, Jungwon didn’t react with one of his usual witty comebacks or careless shrugs. Instead, he just rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of something almost vulnerable flashing across his face. “No, really,” he insisted, almost apologetically. “I don’t have one. I checked a million times as a kid.”
Your pen paused mid-note, and a slight, irrational disappointment prickled in your chest. It was hard to believe, especially about someone like Jungwon, whose very presence seemed destined to leave a mark on others. Soulmate marks might be rare, but someone like him not having one? It felt impossible, like a missing piece that no one noticed until it was too late.
For a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe he just hadn’t found it yet. After all, some people only discovered their mark when it finally turned to color. Sometimes it wasn’t a visible spot on the skin but something far subtler—a shadow in the hue of their lips that would only brighten after a first kiss, or a darkness lingering in an eye, invisible until the gentle touch of someone wiping away their tears brought it to life. The thought sent a strange warmth to your cheeks as you glanced back toward him, wondering if Jungwon’s missing mark was just waiting for the right person to unlock it.
Still, he looked surprisingly honest, a faint hint of sadness clouding his otherwise bright gaze. For someone so magnetic, it was as if he was caught drifting in space, without any tether connecting him to anyone at all.
“Alright, alright,” Jay relented, raising his hands in surrender but laughing all the same. “Guess someone’s too cool to be fated to anyone, huh?”
The professor’s voice cut back in, and you forced yourself to refocus, though your mind lingered on Jungwon’s quiet expression and the flicker of something in his eyes, something both resigned and deeply private. Could he really be alone in a world where everyone else was bound to someone?
“Imagine having your mark on your knuckles,” Arin whispered beside you with a grin, oblivious to the moment that had just passed. “You’d probably knock your soulmate out before you even realized they were ‘the one’!”
Another round of laughter scattered through the room, like a shared inside joke. The air felt charged, as if everyone were suddenly curious about each other’s marks, glancing around with new eyes. You let out a small sigh, tapping your pen against your notebook with a faint smile. As much as you tried to keep up the class president, model-student act, the idea of soulmates fascinated you in a way you’d never quite admit.
When the bell finally rang, the room filled with that familiar end-of-class chaos. You started packing up, keeping your head down—until you noticed Jungwon slinging his bag over his shoulder, looking effortlessly put-together, as usual. He laughed at something his friend said, his expression relaxed, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. But you couldn’t help catching the faintest flicker of something else in his gaze as he glanced at his friends—like a momentary, unguarded look that felt… wistful?
Okay, maybe that was just you being overly imaginative.
You let out a little huff as you slung your own bag over your shoulder, shaking off the strange pity you’d felt moments before. So what if Jungwon didn’t have a mark? You barely even knew him. Well, you kind of knew him, but from a distance—and with way more daydreams than you’d like to admit. Still, it was silly to wonder about him, right? With your head full of these thoughts, you walked out into the hallway, lost in a world where maybe, just maybe, he was wondering about you, too.
And as you brushed past a group of friends, laughing and shoving each other, your hand slipped over the back of your knee, where your own mark was hidden—quiet, waiting, and as mysterious as ever.
The sky was an endless blue, stretching wide over the school field as your class spilled out onto the grass for PE. With the teacher conveniently on vacation, today’s instructions were simple: enjoy the free time. Most of your classmates took to the field, breaking off into little clusters for a lazy game of soccer, light stretches, or simple gossip sessions by the bleachers.
As class president, you took it upon yourself to ensure no one went too far or caused trouble. Your duty, as you saw it, was to survey your classmates from a slight distance, keeping an eye out with the calm, serious gaze you’d carefully perfected. Yet even from the sidelines, your eyes found themselves drifting toward a familiar figure on the field, drawn to him like magnets.
Jungwon was at the center of the field with his friends, casual and relaxed, but his every move carried an elegance that made your pulse skip. He was laughing at something his friend said, his eyes crinkling as he kicked the soccer ball back and forth, the glint of a confident smirk tugging at his lips. His ease on the field was mesmerizing, a mixture of strength and grace that made it hard to look away.
You reminded yourself to focus, scanning the field to check on the other groups. But before you could pull your attention back entirely, a voice called out, and you saw Jungwon pivot to chase the soccer ball—only for it to ricochet off his foot, headed directly toward you with alarming speed.
In the split second it took you to react, you felt a sharp thud against the back of your knees. The impact sent you stumbling forward, knees buckling beneath you as you tumbled to the ground. Pain flared up where the ball had struck, but it was drowned out by the shock of it all.
“Oh no—are you okay?” Jungwon’s voice was breathless with concern, his steps hurried as he reached you. You barely had a chance to process his arrival before he knelt beside you, face flushed and clearly panicked. His hand hovered awkwardly as if afraid to touch you, his usual calm replaced with something far more vulnerable.
“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to— Are you hurt?” he stammered, his voice unusually soft. He reached out gently, his hands carefully brushing against your arm as he tried to help you up. “Can you stand?”
Your mind struggled to catch up to the moment, and it took everything you had to keep your stoic demeanor intact. Jungwon was close, closer than he’d ever been, and the intensity of his worried gaze was unexpectedly disarming. Even as pain pulsed through your knee, you couldn’t help but stare, captivated by how intensely he focused on you, as if everything else in the world had fallen away.
“I’m fine, really,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. But as soon as you tried to stand, pain shot up your leg.
Jungwon’s expression shifted to one of determination, and before you could protest, he slid one arm under your knees and lifted you up, his other arm around your shoulders. The world tilted as he held you in a firm, steady grip, his face barely inches from yours. “We’re getting you to the nurse. No arguments.”
You blinked, momentarily stunned by his closeness, by the warmth radiating from him. “Oh—okay.” The words left your mouth almost on instinct, your brain still catching up with the fact that Jungwon was carrying you, his focus set entirely on you. His hands brushed your arm as he adjusted his grip, and you felt a strange warmth bloom under your skin, something unfamiliar and electric.
The walk to the nurse’s office was quiet, but you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze flickered to you, the gentleness in his expression as he murmured, “Sorry again. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt the class president.”
Your lips parted, searching for something to say, but the way he looked at you—soft, maybe even a bit shy—left you wordless. All you could do was nod, your heart pounding louder with each step as you held onto the feeling of his arms around you, wondering if he could hear it too.
It wasn’t until you glanced down that you noticed it—a faint shift of color beneath your knee where the ball had struck. The mark, once hidden and dark, now radiated a subtle but unmistakable bright yellow hue, soft and warm against your skin.
You froze, eyes wide, as the realization settled in. Jungwon was still mumbling apologies, unaware of the discovery you’d just made. Only he could have caused the mark to change; he was the only one who had touched that spot. The idea left you breathless, your mind scrambling to make sense of it all.
In the clinic, the nurse examined your knee with a quick, professional assessment. “You’ll be fine,” she declared, sending you off with an ice pack and a faint smile. But your thoughts were still racing, tangled up in the startling realization that Jungwon might actually be your soulmate.
The whole walk back to class, you replayed the moment in your mind, trying to make sense of it. Maybe it was a coincidence. Perhaps someone had brushed the back of your knee at some other time, and you simply hadn’t noticed. But deep down, you knew the truth—the mark had only changed when Jungwon touched you.
And when you returned to class, he was there, hovering near the door with a worried frown. He looked up as you approached, eyes bright with relief.
“Are you okay?” he asked, a slight smile breaking through the concern etched into his features. “I was worried about you.”
Your heart skipped as you nodded, doing your best to keep your voice steady. “I’m fine. Just… a bit shaken up, that’s all.” You felt the weight of the new secret pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to smile.
Jungwon’s shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in that effortlessly charming way of his. “I’m glad. I’ll be more careful with my aim next time.”
You smiled back, feeling the weight of the mark’s new color, of the quiet truth only you knew. As Jungwon returned to his seat, your gaze drifted to the back of your knee, where the mark lay hidden under the fabric of your clothes, now touched by color—by him.
In the days following the incident on the field, the world seemed to shift around you, humming with an energy you couldn’t quite shake. The back of your knee, where Jungwon’s touch had changed your soulmate mark to a soft, distinct yellow color, was a constant reminder of the possibility that your crush—Jungwon, the ever-handsome and kind soccer captain—might be something even more significant than you’d ever dared to imagine.
“How’s your knee?” he asked, his voice warm and tinged with that familiar gentleness that made your heart stutter.
“Oh, it’s fine, really!” You waved it off, attempting to tuck your leg further under your desk, hoping he wouldn’t notice the faint new color to the mark that still lingered behind your knee.
Jungwon didn’t seem to buy it. “Are you sure?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he leaned down, intent on seeing for himself. Before he could get a closer look, you tugged your skirt down a little farther, hiding the mark as best as you could.
“I’m sure, really,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone casual. “It’s just a little sore, nothing to worry about.”
For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on you, unreadable. Then he nodded, standing up with a quiet, sheepish smile. “Alright. I’ll trust you, but only if you promise to let me know if it starts hurting again.”
You managed a nod, clutching your books a little tighter to keep your hands steady. “I promise,” you said, hoping he didn’t notice the flicker of nerves in your eyes.
Your third shared class of the week was English, and just as the teacher assigned the day’s group work, the class began to shift into pairs. Coincidentally (or so you told yourself), the seating arrangement placed Jungwon near you that day.
“Hey,” he said, his voice soft as he approached. He offered you one of his signature, heart-stopping smiles. “Mind if we pair up? I mean…if you’re okay with it.”
With an effort to keep your expression neutral, you nodded. “Sure,” you replied, your voice steady even though your heart was anything but.
Settling at a table near the window, you both pulled out your notebooks. The task was straightforward—analyzing a poem about soulmates. You caught a breath at the irony, and Jungwon, seemingly unfazed, began reading the passage aloud. His voice, low and calm, wove through the words as you listened, though your mind kept wandering to his every movement, the way his eyes flickered thoughtfully over the page, how his fingers held the pencil lightly but with intention.
“What do you think?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.
You cleared your throat, willing your focus back to the assignment. “I think…well, it’s romantic. But it’s also kind of tragic, right? There’s always this sense of waiting—like, what if they don’t meet?”
Jungwon’s gaze flickered up, lingering on your face a little longer than necessary. “Yeah, that’s true,” he agreed, his voice thoughtful. “The idea that you’re waiting your whole life for just one person…it’s a lot of pressure.”
He paused, eyes settling on you, as if searching for something beneath the calm exterior you held so tightly. “Do you… believe in it? Soulmates, I mean?”
Caught off guard, you looked down, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of your notebook. You thought of your parents, of their own lovely story about finding each other through their marks, and how you’d grown up with those tales of destiny. And now, here you were, sitting with the very boy who might be your own fated match.
“I think,” you began slowly, “that I want to believe in it. My parents…they have one of those classic stories. It’s hard not to believe in soulmates when you’ve heard stories like that all your life.”
He nodded, listening intently. “I get that. I guess…sometimes I wonder what it would be like. But it’s hard to picture when you don’t…you know, have any marks yourself.”
The quiet sadness in his tone took you by surprise. You’d never considered what it might be like to go through life without a soulmate mark, to feel like something intrinsic was missing, a feeling that destiny had passed you by. Suddenly, your thoughts flickered back to the legends the elders told—how markless people were said to carry the weight of unrequited love from a past life, doomed to wander without a soulmate to mark them in this one. The idea hung heavy in the air, mingling with your sympathy for him.
“Maybe it doesn’t matter, then,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “Maybe people without marks find their person too, in other ways.” You couldn’t help but think that perhaps Jungwon was one of those souls, burdened by a love that never came to fruition.
The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. Jungwon seemed lost in thought, his gaze drifting out the window as he considered your words. And just then, a strange sense of comfort washed over you, knowing that even if he was unaware of it, you shared a connection that went beyond what either of you could see.
“Maybe,” he said finally, and then he flashed you a lopsided grin. “Well, even if soulmates are real, maybe it’s a good thing I’m mark-free. I don’t think I’d want someone to find out I was their soulmate because I hit them with a soccer ball.”
His laughter rang out, and you couldn’t help but join him, but beneath the mirth, your heart clenched. You wanted to tell him everything—to reveal the secret that could bridge the chasm between you. But as the words formed on your lips, fear gripped you. What if you were wrong? What if he truly didn’t have a soulmate mark, and this moment of connection was just a fleeting illusion?
So you swallowed hard, plastering a smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, let’s just keep that between us, then,” you replied, hoping to mask the anxiety swirling inside you.
Inside, the truth weighed heavy, a secret that felt more like a burden than a bond. Keeping it hidden seemed safer, easier—even if it left you feeling like a ghost, drifting alongside him but never truly reaching out. The thought of him being one of those markless souls—the ones who carried the pain of a love never realized—made you ache. You didn’t want him to feel that emptiness, and yet, here you were, hiding a truth that might shatter the fragile connection you shared.
Perhaps it was better this way. Better to hold onto your heartache in silence than risk shattering the bond you had built, no matter how tenuous it felt. As you returned to the assignment, the bittersweet taste of longing lingered on your tongue, mixing with the thrill of possibility, leaving you torn between the hope of what could be and the fear of what might never come to pass.
Finally, during your biology class, your teacher assigned a laboratory cleaning rotation. By the luck of the draw—or maybe a twist of fate—you found yourself paired with Jungwon. It was supposed to be a simple task, but as the two of you gathered supplies and began tidying up the classroom after hours, you felt the weight of every quiet moment.
Jungwon appeared beside you as you straightened a stack of textbooks, arms full of markers and erasers. His casual, laid-back attitude only heightened the quiet thrill that being near him sparked in you. As he handed you an eraser, your fingers brushed slightly, and you pulled back quickly, heart racing.
"Are you always this… serious?" Jungwon teased, his lips curving into a half-smile. "I mean, you don’t have to look like we’re cleaning the whole school."
You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “It’s just how I work. I take tasks seriously.”
He nodded, still smiling. “You’re impressive, you know. It’s like…you’re always so composed, like nothing rattles you.”
Caught off guard by his observation, you froze momentarily, not sure how to respond. Behind your serious exterior, you were anything but composed—especially around him. Before you could answer, he turned away to tidy the bookshelves, leaving you wondering if he’d picked up on the effect he had on you.
After a while, Jungwon returned to the task at hand, dusting off a few of the windowsills. It was quiet for a few minutes, the sounds of your combined effort filling the room. You both worked in sync, a silent rhythm that had developed without either of you realizing it. And then, with an abruptness that caught you off guard, he spoke again.
“Hey,” he said, hesitating. “I know this might be a weird question, but… where’s your soulmate mark?”
The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications you weren’t ready to unravel. Your heart thudded as you carefully set down the books you’d been holding, gathering your thoughts.
You felt a flush creep up your cheeks. "Um, it's… it's on my knee," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment made you shy, and you instinctively shifted your weight, the hem of your skirt falling to cover your knee even more.
Jungwon raised an eyebrow, curiosity glimmering in his eyes. “Oh? Is it… already in color?”
You hesitated for a brief moment, weighing your words. “Uh, yeah,” you replied, biting your lip. “It changed a while ago. But it’s not a big deal.” You left out the part about him possibly being your soulmate, feeling the weight of that truth settle heavily in the air between you.
His expression shifted slightly, disappointment flashing across his features before he masked it with a casual smile. “That’s cool,” he said, his voice a bit quieter now. “I guess… it must be nice to have that certainty.”
“Yeah,” you said, trying to keep the mood light despite the sudden heaviness in your chest. “I mean, it’s comforting, I suppose.”
But beneath your words, a sense of longing stirred. You noticed how his gaze faltered for a moment, and it struck you then how much he had hoped for something different. He had seemed eager, maybe even hopeful, and the realization stung a little.
Jungwon cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over you both. “So, um… did you see the last soccer game?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. “I think we really need to work on our defense.”
His attempt at lightheartedness felt slightly forced, and you could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Still, it was nice to see him trying to shake off the heaviness from moments before.
“Yeah, I caught a bit of it,” you replied, grateful for the shift in focus. “You guys played well, though a couple of those goals were pretty close calls.”
He chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “Yeah, I think I almost gave our coach a heart attack with that last-minute save,” he said, grinning. It was an infectious smile, and you found yourself smiling back despite the weight still resting in the back of your mind.
The annual school festival arrived faster than expected, and the campus buzzed with activity and excitement. Classrooms were transformed into themed booths, hallways were draped with handmade decorations, and students wore colorful festival shirts and badges, their faces bright with paint and laughter. You found yourself stationed at the face-painting booth, brush in hand, ready to tackle the endless line of eager students.
You’d always enjoyed events like these—participating in the festival offered you a rare chance to relax and feel connected to your classmates outside of the usual seriousness you maintained as class president. Here, you were just another student, painting stars, hearts, and stripes on familiar faces.
“Hey, what’s up? Need a painter?” your friend Taeyoung called out to the next group approaching your booth. You followed his gaze and felt your heart skip when you recognized Jungwon and his friends heading your way, laughing and jostling each other. He wore a loose festival shirt with sleeves rolled up, a casual look that somehow made him even more handsome. You quickly glanced down, suddenly hyper-aware of your paintbrushes and the paper towels you clutched a little too tightly.
The booth was busy, and with most of your fellow painters occupied, it didn’t take long for Taeyoung to pair Jungwon with you. “Hey, Y/N, looks like you’ve got a VIP customer! Captain Jungwon wants to be a canvas today,” he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he nudged Jungwon playfully.
Jungwon chuckled, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—an eagerness mixed with a hint of shyness. “Yeah, I guess I’m in your hands now,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “No pressure, right?”
You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure as your heart raced. “Uh, right! No pressure at all,” you replied, your voice a little too bright. “What do you have in mind?”
You forced yourself to meet Jungwon’s eyes, fighting back the nervous excitement bubbling in your chest. “So… what would you like?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
Jungwon’s usual confident smile softened a little, and he seemed slightly hesitant, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture that made your stomach flutter. “Maybe a couple of stars on my cheeks? And… maybe a small cat on my forehead?”
You stifled a laugh at his request, realizing that behind his composed demeanor, he had a playful side you hadn’t seen before. “A star and a cat. Got it,” you whispered, dipping your brush into white paint. You reached out carefully to steady his face, tilting it slightly toward the light. Your fingers lightly touched his cheek, and you couldn’t ignore the spark that jolted through you at the contact.
Jungwon closed his eyes briefly, letting out a small breath. You tried to ignore the slight flush you felt creeping up your neck, focusing on drawing a perfect star on his left cheek. You painted in silence, but every so often, he’d open his eyes and glance at you, making your heart race each time.
With one cheek finished, you moved to the other side. He leaned in closer, giving you the perfect angle. The space between you seemed to shrink with every second, the sounds of the bustling festival fading into a distant hum. You were hyper-aware of everything—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from him, and how your fingers gently brushed his skin. When you finished with the stars, you pulled back slightly to look at your work, meeting his gaze as you did.
“They look good,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.
You swallowed, breaking eye contact to reach for a new brush and dip it in black paint. “Now for the cat,” you said, trying to stay calm. “Hold still.”
You carefully moved to part his hair at the center of his forehead. As your fingers brushed through his bangs, you froze, your eyes widening as you saw something strange—a small patch of his dark hair was shifting, lightening to a soft honey-blonde under your touch.
“Um… Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you stared at the transformed lock of hair falling against his forehead. “Your hair…”
“What about it?” He turned to you with a hint of confusion, glancing up as if trying to catch a glimpse of the change. “Did I mess it up?”
You shook your head, the words tangling in your throat as disbelief washed over you. “It’s… it’s changing color.”
He blinked, clearly caught off guard, then brushed his fingers through the area you’d touched. His movements stilled, the warmth in his expression fading, replaced by something deeper—something unreadable. The air thickened around you, a heavy silence filled with unspoken questions.
“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, his gaze searching yours as if trying to decode the truth hidden beneath your surprise.
You nodded slowly, your heart racing. “Yeah, I… I thought it was just the paint at first, but… it’s definitely not.”
The realization hung in the air, electric and palpable, igniting a spark of tension that sent shivers down your spine. Jungwon’s fingers gently traced the newly lightened strands of hair, his expression a mix of wonder and trepidation. You could feel your pulse quicken, an exhilarating rush flooding through you as you grasped the meaning behind this strange phenomenon.
Time seemed to stretch in that moment, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in your chest. Here he was, the boy you’d admired from afar, unexpectedly transformed before your eyes. Jungwon—the one who had unwittingly painted your world in vibrant colors, now literally changing right in front of you.
Suddenly, self-consciousness washed over you like a cold wave. You averted your gaze, stepping back instinctively. “I—I should go finish with the others. They’re probably waiting for me…” Your voice wavered, betraying the rush of emotions threatening to spill over.
Before you could dwell on it, a paint container wobbled on the edge of the table, knocking into your elbow. In your panic, you stumbled, sending brushes and colors sprawling over yourself. “Oh no!” you yelped, scrambling to clean up the mess.
“Y/N, wait!” Jungwon exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. He stepped closer, his hand closing around yours, halting your frantic movements. “Stop. Just breathe.”
His grip was steadying, grounding you amidst the chaos of your racing thoughts. “Let’s find somewhere quiet, okay? You need to clean up.” His voice held a calmness that contrasted sharply with the storm inside you.
You felt a rush of warmth at his concern, but your mind spun with confusion. “But… the booth—”
“Trust me,” he said, his gaze unwavering, a silent promise passing between you. “Just for a moment. Let’s talk.”
With a nod, you allowed him to guide you away from the festival’s noise, your heart racing not just from the moment, but from the undeniable connection building between you. The thrill of discovery was tempered by the anxiety of what it all meant, and yet, in Jungwon’s presence, you felt something shift—something new and exciting, just waiting to be explored.
He led you through a quieter section of the campus, where the walls were lined with colorful murals painted by students, the air filled with the faint scent of paint and creativity. The laughter and chatter from the festival faded into the background, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves overhead and the distant sound of music drifting from the booths.
As you turned a corner, Jungwon paused, the air around you suddenly thick with anticipation. He glanced around, ensuring you were alone, then leaned against the cool brick wall, his posture relaxed yet focused. His gaze locked onto yours, intensity radiating from him. “My hair… it’s slowly turning blond. Isn’t this what soulmate marks are supposed to be like?”
His words hung in the air, electrifying the space between you. You felt the weight of the moment press down, your heart racing like a wild drum in your chest. “Right… your soulmate mark,” you stammered, the tremor in your voice betraying the chaos inside. “I didn’t want to say anything because I thought it might just be a coincidence, but now… it's all starting to make sense.”
Jungwon stepped closer, the seriousness in his expression deepening. “You mean you knew?” His voice was low, the edge of urgency evident. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
The air crackled with tension, and you felt your pulse quicken. “I didn’t know it was you! I thought—” you cut yourself off, frustration bubbling within you. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward. You’ve been my crush longer than you’ve been a friend. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep things from being awkward with you, especially when my mark changed?”
Jungwon’s expression shifted, vulnerability breaking through his confidence. “Your mark... is it.… when did it change? Am I—was it before… or after we met?” His voice was tight, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.
You took a deep breath, feeling the memories rush back. “The day you carried me to the nurse’s office, you idiot.”
He blinked, taken aback by your response. “Wait… that day? But I thought...”
His expression softened slightly, the intensity in his eyes shifting as he took a step closer. You held your breath as he knelt down, his fingers hovering over your soulmate mark. The moment felt electric, a mix of vulnerability and anticipation coursing through you.
“Can I…?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, giving him permission to touch it. As his fingers brushed against your skin, a shiver ran down your spine. Jungwon chuckled softly, the sound breaking some of the tension between you. “Can you believe this? It feels just like yesterday when I accidentally hit my crush with a soccer ball at her knees,” he said, shaking his head with a bemused smile. “The same crush I’ve wanted to approach since 10th grade but was always too afraid to mess up, especially with how she glares at boys.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, the image of a younger Jungwon fumbling with his words as he tried to impress you suddenly vivid in your mind. “I didn’t mean to scare you off,” you admitted, your heart swelling with warmth. “I thought you were just… confident, you know?”
He shrugged, a hint of shyness creeping back into his demeanor. “I try to be. But it’s hard when you’re crushing on someone who’s out of your league.”
“Out of my league?” you repeated, incredulous. “Jungwon, you’re the captain of the soccer team! Everyone looks up to you.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous around you,” he replied, his gaze locking onto yours, sincerity pouring from his words. “It’s different with you. You make me want to be better.”
The air between you thickened with unspoken emotions, each heartbeat echoing the connection that had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged. You both stood on the edge of something monumental, the laughter of the festival fading away, leaving only the two of you and the promise of what lay ahead.
The next day, Jungwon strolled confidently down the hallway, his head of hair transformed into a stunning honeyed blonde that turned heads with every step. The shift was striking—bold, noticeable, and oddly fitting—making it seem as though he had always intended to embrace this change. Whispers and awestruck glances followed him like a gentle wave, yet beneath that cool exterior, you could see the spark of mischief in his eyes, especially when they met yours.
“Wow, he really went all out,” Arin murmured beside you, her voice a mix of surprise and admiration. “He must’ve bleached the whole thing. I didn’t think Jungwon had that in him.”
You nodded, trying to maintain your composure while your heart raced. “Yeah… surprising, isn’t it?” you replied, though a smile betrayed your nonchalance as you watched him navigate the crowd like he owned the place.
Unaware of the true significance of his transformation, your classmates continued their commentary. “Looks good on him, though,” one girl remarked, her tone infused with genuine admiration. “Like he was meant to have it all along.”
Jungwon seemed completely unfazed by the attention, wearing his new look with a blend of pride and ease, as if his blonde hair was a badge of honor that only you understood. It was a mark that connected the two of you in ways that no one else could fathom—an intimate secret wrapped in boldness.
As the hallway thinned out, he lingered by his locker, his casual demeanor slipping just a bit as he caught your gaze from across the hall. He lifted a hand, brushing back his hair with an effortless charm that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach—a subtle nod to the secret you shared.
You walked over, your heart pounding just a little faster than usual. “It suits you,” you said, keeping your voice low, the air between you thick with unspoken words.
His eyes softened, gratitude shimmering in their depths. “Good to know,” he murmured, his tone low but filled with warmth. “After all, it’s your fault it looks this good.”
A faint blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and before you could respond, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice even more as he added, “And don’t worry. The secret’s safe.”
In that crowded hallway, with laughter and footsteps echoing around you, it felt like you and Jungwon were enveloped in your own little world. His blonde hair, like a silent vow, was a reminder of what only the two of you understood: a hidden connection, pulsing with promise and anticipation, waiting to be explored.
⋮ ⌗ ┆概要 ⨾ guys come and go, but heeseung's always been the centre of your universe. with his aloof, brooding air, you stop at nothing to make him yours - unknowingly jeopardising the one thing you always had.
李羲承 𝔁 𝒻 .ᐟ读者 𝔁 沈载伦 ── 6.4k
explicit content ⋆ smut (mdni)、dom!heeseung、switch!jake、switch!reader、heavy degradation/humilation、misogynistic themes & language (the portrayal of any characters here does not reflect their real life character)、threesome、car sex、oral (f. & m.)、vaginal fingering、unprotected sex (don't do this)、creampie、breeding kink、ruined orgasm、facial、spit kink、biting、finger sucking、dacryphilia、slight impact play、slight breast play、cowgirl & doggy position、cum eating、petnames used: plaything、pretty、the reader's a bit evil but so are heejake ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ⌇ℳ.list
⋮ ⌗ ┆便条 ⨾ this did not go as initially planned 😭 not that i had an outlined plan to begin with, but i hope that you're able to enjoy this somewhat cohesive mess nevertheless. comments are always much appreciated and really put a battery in my back ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ my next post should be a jungwon fic that's (ofc) longer than intended. until then, much loveeeee! <333
If there's one thing you've always been, it's lucky.
Life for you comes set on easy mode, everything your heart desires coming to you in abundance. Good grades, great friends, luxury, high self-esteem and all the guys you could ever want. Versatile taste with looks that could kill have guys flocking to you in droves, on their knees with the promise of everything you already have. When you were younger, you indulged: tried out what the world had to offer but when men tripped over themselves to be with you, being paraded around as their arm candy began to wear off. You'd become a prop in someone's life, a background character in your own and it just wouldn't do. Your resort becomes restriction, not falling into the arms of the best-looking suitor, someone you thought looked best alongside you to fit everyone's image and became selfish because if men were, why couldn't you be?
Have your cake and eat it too. Some may say it's backwards, but it's none of their business what you do in your spare time. Your life is your life only and what better may to relieve the stress of endless assignment deadlines then a game of cat and mouse? Purposeful in your selection, your needs are met in the careful curation of your suitors' desires, done only to satisfy your own but never extended to entertain the prospect of a relationship. Because if there's anywhere the mere idea of a relationship is repulsive, it's the lawless bubble of uni.
The pattern unfolds as follows: feed your ego, get whatever else you need and dip because who are you, if not, a little evil?
It's a tactic that's served you well, sparing you from the tears you refuse wasting on men. It even serves you now, a means to end in the form of your latest target.
Sim Jaeyun comes into your life a part of a module project, a paired assignment that at least places you with the smartest person in class. Drafting up research is something well within your capabilities, except the program you're tasked with using is your worst enemy. An unnecessarily complicated software that with the workshops you missed first year too hungover to show, an attempt at catching up is futile. Even more so now when Jake allocates himself the task, pushing his thick-rimmed glasses with a giddy smile before he jots it down in a planner scribbled with Physics meets and 'Coding for fun!' as his hobby time.
Nerdy isn't your usual type, but he's handsome to a fault. Soft slopes resembling a prince, especially when his eyes glitter. The itch manifests, his eagerness to make this as least stressful for you cementing him in your clutches. It warps the niceness of your brain, tactics of manipulation utilized as you play into cluelessness. Bend over for your dropped pen, somehow unaware a sliver of your panties peeks through all too short skirt. Lean impossibly close when he's inputting your study's results, hands resting on his arm, giving a good squeeze and glowing smile as you marvel at his work. You are impressed, but not enough to be fawning to such an extent. After he gulps down his lodge of nerves, offering you teach you in a shaky voice, you can't help but smile, sharp at its edges but a smile nevertheless, using the excuse to breach into more personal space until there's none left.
"You feel so good."
Fogged windows are your tell, alerting curious eyes of the nefarious activities occurring in Jake's beat up car. It's an upgrade from the grim state of low-lives you've regretfully slept with, but fucking in the same car your mother drives isn't ideal. It's the result of your pent-up self from the night before, texts sent to Jake going unread. Of course you have options, but Jake currently remains the only source of play you torment, a raspberry blown when you're forced to take matters into your own hands. You'd awoken to a flood of texts, rambled apologies and the promise to make things right. Always on your terms, because a life beyond that didn't exist for you. Therefore, you find yourself here, striking out with unavailable dorm rooms with a settlement of this ─ the backseat of his car.
The car rocks with every bounce, the squelch between your legs amplified off the motor vehicle walls. Pants shake out your parted lips, Jake's lips bitten and quivering as he watches his cock disappear into you, velvety walls wrapping around him, coaxing him into sweet release.
"Squeezing me so good, I can't─" his whimpers pour, head thrown back before his throat bobs with a dire exhale. A trail of sweat trails down the column of his neck, tempting you. You're feral enough to hook your nails into the skin of his nape, licking the salt clean off his skin.
He's docile like this, drunk on you, deciding between which view is better: your cunt dragging up and down his flushed cock or you, thinly veiled in sweat with a part of your lips that's too erotic for words. It tortures him, the pain and the pleasure, evidently heard in the chesty groan he gives, lips forming into a pout as his eyes grow vacant, drifting off far away into his own fantasies. Your ego doesn't need further boosting, but the flattery is nice ─ having someone so gone for you, they'll have you in any way they can. Take you however they can and in the swampy muddle of Jake's thoughts, his intentions shine through. His lips purse, face drawing to yours in a kiss you see coming and don't reciprocate. The best he's given is the splay of your hand as you push him back, forehead against your palm, his head knocked back to the exposure of his neck. He's so sensitive there, one of the things you care to remember for him, your chuckle marrying into his skin as the sink of your teeth preludes the graze of your tongue.
Jake may as well fall apart then and there, the shake of his body speaking to his torment as his hips lift to meet yours, the smack of skin cursing your eardrums as his tip notches into your sweet spot, your claws sinking deeper. Your eyes close, moan softened by the clamp of your lips, pleasure bloomed in your stomach coming into fruition.
Amusement finds itself tickling your chest, cocky grin cracked as Jake continues to shake, all your doing. Your hand migrates to cup his cheek, other hand bound to the car's headrest as your weight's supported by Jake's hands beneath, fingertips digging into the flesh of your ass.
"Am I making you weak?" You don't bother hiding your chuckle, thumb brushing its way over to rest on his lips, his glossy eyes on yours. "You're cute,"
"Better when your mouth's busy."
The prompt parts his lips for your thumb, pillow lips engulfing the finger with a peer up at you best describes as true surrender. Unabashed and hopelessly wrapped around your finger.
Couldn't be you.
Through the accumulated condensation, the mostly desolate parking lot incurs another vehicle, the rumble rocking beneath its wheels as loud music blares from its speakers. Your rhythm suffers, a minute buckle Jake catches you in, an exhale expelled from you as Jake shows his desperation, fingertips digging further as his hips buck up in haste, whines caught between your thumb then released. He thinks you're just as lost in this, body falling over his so his chin's tucked into the crook of your neck, his pants painting your feverish skin. However, you've just leaned forwards to get a better look, a peak of clear rear windshield confirming what you'd suspected all along.
Heeseung's here.
In all the bids of attention men seek from you, his separates itself from others. Primarily because he doesn't even try, never spares the time nor a second glance. He simply exists outside your social circle, feeding into the emo, loner stereotype you thought people outgrew gossiping over at uni. Alias, he remains a permanent fixture in your mind, visiting you deep into the night when you're restless and reminiscing about how he strums his guitar and what other things he could do with his fingers. Calm and collected, he wears cool on his face, branding himself in beat up Doc Martens and Nu Metal rock band t-shirt, a genre you share a commonality in. It's the very same genre he blasts, Fred Durst's rant of breaking stuff cut off when Heeseung kills the car's engine.
Your body reacts immediately, breath caught as you watch him haul out the flung open door, immediately lighting a cigarette he smokes against the side of his car.
"God, you're soaked, I'm gonna come," Jake cries, reminding you of his presence. You cast him an ounce of curiosity, line of sight all pleading eyes and flushed cheeks. "Can I? Can I come inside? I don't wanna─"
His ramble get caught off when you've directed your gaze back at Heeseung, watching the cloud of smoke puff out his lips. At this point, he's nothing more than a blurred figure, the heat of working bodies shrouding the car in meant-to-be mystery. The charade only holds up for so long before someone notices, the someone being Heeseung as his head of pink hair tilts, gaze directed over at Jake's car.
"Come in me," you mewl, coil tightened in your belly as your watchful eyes observe Heeseung creep towards the car. "I need it."
It couldn't be more obvious what occurs in the car's interior, your hips moving with intention as your eyes never leave Heeseung, the image of him pounding into you speed-running you to the cliff's edge. Moisture collects along your waterline, broken moan muffled into your circled arms as your walls clench in a suffocating squeeze, obscene squelches not doing enough to hide the rumble of Heeseung's approaching footsteps. They're only brought to a stall when Jake notches one last time into you, stars crossing your vision as you cry out with your release, Heeseung's name on the edge of your tongue.
He never attends parties.
Every club night, house party and in between has gathered fleeting moments where your eyes looked for him, Heeseung's presence never to be found. Perhaps he didn't care for the drunk crowd, better preferring the quiet of his room as Deftones lull in the background, immersing himself in whatever artistic hobby your mind could concoct. Fantasy fills the gaps left in the lack of interactions, your mind only left to wonder what kind of man he is behind the whispers of gossips, a torn artist with the sweetest voice, an iron-clad expression worn for the public with an immediate melt in the presence of loved ones. It's the exact scene that plays out before you as Heeseung's smokey eyeshadowed eyes cut across the room, landing on the figure that approaches him. Beomgyu, one of the more sociable emos who most likely extended the invitation to Heeseung, the bunch of his cheeks and the kindness of his eyes pouring as he gratefully accepts the drink handed to him.
Your mind is everywhere all at once, diving across realms of possibilities, trying to explain his presence, how to approach him and whether your outfit is approach-worthy. It's attracted a lot of attention, hungry gazes cast your way, but in the same breath as your own satisfaction, you wonder: would he like my outfit? Would he give me the time of day? How do you not seem like a poser when you actually have the same─
"What's got your attention?" Jungwon's voice pierces through, your mirage broken. "Oh, your chemical romance is here."
Eyes rolling to your best friend, your elbow nudges into his ribcage, a snickered yelp his response. "Can you not?"
"What? It's a good one, isn't it?" he beams a proud grin, shrouded in the darkness permeating the open-plan kitchen. A rainbow LED disco ball provides some glimmer of vision, the moonlight a supporting act as it streams through the kitchen's large windows, chatter and loud music dominating the space.
It's funny how in the chaos of it all, your mind narrows down to a single presence. Tucked away in the corner of the living room, on a leather couch as Heeseung chats with Beomgyu. He chips at his black nail polish, face brightening as Beomgyu relays a story full of animation, his friend catching the bug as his back lifts off the couch, an index finger pointed as he laughs. You don't hear it over the music, but you can only imagine what it sounds like.
Saying it leaves you floored is an understatement.
"You're gonna catch flies," Jungwon's hand lifts your jaw back into place, swatted away with a scowl sent his way. "Now you care when I'm handsy."
You grin as you straighten out your skirt, shimmying down the curves of your hips. "Wouldn't want you scaring away prospects,"
"Speaking in plurals when there is none," he gives a chuckle, head tipped to drink while his eyes remain on you. "You gonna approach him or am I taking you home tonight?"
Your head lifts, another roll of the eyes given in the face of his smugness. "You wish."
Then your gaze averts, because it's an inevitable in such circumstances. It happens by pure coincidence, the lock of your eyes, but it sends your chest into a violent ricochet. Seated right beside a lava lamp, Heeseung's side profile bathes in hues of sunset orange and resonate violet, his features soft and pretty, a stark contrast from the glimmer of piercings littering his face. What you'd assume is a gaze cast to Beomgyu is dismantled, his friend's figure vacant from the weathered leather couch, affording Heeseung the real estate to spread his legs, the tartan skirt over his jeans draping over his knees. As such, he looks to you, his chin slightly lifted in a leer of unspoken words. The lyrics of the thumping music boil into a babbled blur, softening to highlight the hard thump of your heart, beating at worrying speeds. It seeks to break free from the bruises of your chest, your hand white knuckling your drink yet still maintaining eye contact.
The one thing you prided yourself on maintaining - initiating - turns on its head when roles are reversed, cotton ball caught in the lodge of your throat as Heeseung regards you. From head to toe, he gives you three quarters of his face with no known expression before his eyes settle back on your eyes again, taking their sweet time at the length of your skirt beforehand. His tongue then darts out, smoothed over the plump of his lip, a slick glide teasing the snake bites accented near the corners of his mouth. It's then you wonder like many times what they'd feel like against your tongue, run over in a wretched drag as you cup his chin in your hand, succumbing to your own rules, diving in for a kiss you can't resist because in the end, you'd deem it worth it. Worth the attachment and mess that always comes as a consequence.
The syrup of your stare clears in the middle, haloed in slow dribble as you witness the uptake of his mouth. On one-side, missable to the naked eye, but never yours.
A sign, one you take and run with despite the rabbit in your chest, shoulders back as your legs take you towards him, the makeshift dancefloor clearing as the only way ahead leads to him. In the rash of your decision, your brain doesn't afford itself the luxury of anticipating what your first words may be to Heeseung, nor does it concern itself with anything else besides keeping your eyes on him, his stretch of satisfaction spreading as you stand over him, cracking a smile of your own.
"This seat taken?"
In the swarm of sloshed alcohol drinks and whispered proposals to head upstairs, Heeseung smiles at you, warm and inviting, ringed hand patting the open space the universe saves for you. And like every other good fortune tossed your way, you settle, no known nerves perceived except the slight tremour of your hand, engaging in your favourite pass-times.
Volleyed flirting.
"My taste's a bit all over the place, but divorced dad is where most my favourites skew," you joke later on, introductions and nervous chatter out the way.
You're more confident now, yourself with a straightened back and head tilted, smiling the same way you do when you've locked eyes with prey. However, what remains different in the game you've played with Jake is the absence of darted eyes, Heeseung headstrong as he observes you with the quiet confidence guys fawning over you rarely possess, babbling themselves into a hole you don't ruin your nails digging them out of. He's slouched a bit, legs still spread, extended knee a hairlength away from yours. He isn't the unreadable force you'd fuelled your fantasies with anymore, a sense of normalcy to him and yet, your heart's still set on him, the slim pickings of his personality given to you only heightening your attraction.
"Like Alice In Chains?"
"Yeah, Deftones, Queens of the Stone Age, Type O Negative, Stone Temple Pilots," you list, his impressed nods encouraging the flattery in your grin. "There was one house party where Unglued came on and I'd had some to drink,"
Your giggle interrupts you, attention lapsing momentarily at the buzz in your lap, your screen lighting up with texts.
You wouldn't answer, not with the current matter at hand.
"The kitchen counter and I made great friends that night. A video's probably saved in my friend's chat somewhere."
Heeseung gives a laugh, shielded by his fist, his bracelets jangling at the action. It's sincere, his shoulders lifted, almost pulled into himself as his eyes crinkle, their shine evident. You have to look away to calm the thunder in your chest.
"I would've paid good money to have seen it," he says, means it too in the soft expression he provides, your eyebrow raised in question. He doesn't bother with words, instead settling for a nod that feels a step closer to your end goal. "Maybe I need to get out more. Not just for concerts."
You point to the t-shirt he wears, a black concert t-shirt of a band you have a soft spot for. "You went to their concert?"
Heeseung peers down, chuckling to himself. "Of course! I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't see Cherub Rock live."
"It's so good live, right?" your exclaim comes with the drop of your hands, phone bouncing in your lap. It buzzes again and you toss it a glance of annoyance. "Crazy to think we went to the same concert."
"I know," he confirms, finger parting the coral fringe crowding his forehead. He shakes its part, eyes on you again. "Limp Bizkit's meant to be touring soon if you're interested?"
Hook, line and sinker.
It's words you've imagined far too many times, playfulness in you enough to toy with the proposition. Reality differs from the imaginary, however, what's meant to be an obvious yes differing in a real-life reply.
"I'd go, but I've got an assignment to hand in," the one you're sure Jake texted you about earlier. Not that you cared to read his messages. All night, the texts you'd received come from him alone, a bid for your attention, especially since the last time you talked. Your usual afternoon work session ended in a confession of sorts, no explicit mention of his feelings, because he's too shy to say otherwise, but he'd proposed seeing each other like it was something you'd be interested in ─ it wasn't.
So, you let him down easy, hand coming to give him headpats like a wounded dog as you relayed some bullshit excuse, giving him the kiss of death on his forehead before departing. You should've ended things there, expressed no interest in pursuing something you didn't envision with him but the looming project deadline proposed awkwardness you'd rather avoid navigating. It's your mess, created by your greedy hands, so you dealt with how you knew best ─ stringing him along, appeasing him because even if the title of your boyfriend could never be his, he was eager enough to serve you at every beck and call.
Your sigh comes out wistful, eyes directed to the man in front of you. The same pair that have been on you ever since your eyes locked. Goosebumps litter your skin. "Exams too. So, I'm a bit stressed at the minute."
Bait.
That's what it is. An opportunity for Heeseung to take your advances packaged in a pretty bow, eyelashes batted with your legs crossed enough to hitch your skirt higher, unexplored skin on show.
His eyes don't miss it, lingering there delicately before they flicker up to yours, a shade darker.
"That's a real shame. Would've been good to go together," his face starts to brim a closed-mouth smile, lopsided with all kinds of mischief. "Then again, if you're with me, you'll get rid of a lot of that stress,"
Chipped nail polish comes into view, a lone fingertip tapped against your knee in the thumps of ongoing music before he draws patterns, watching with a smile as goosebumps follow in his wake. His head lifts after he's derived enough satisfaction, the rise and fall of your chest seen in the cocky expression he displays.
"I'm good at relieving stress."
Which is how you find yourselves searching for the next deserted bedroom, your back meeting the plush mattress with your legs thrown over Heeseung's shoulders, fingers weaved into dyed hair as you sing his praises.
"You're so wet for me, pretty," he moans around your clit, body squirming in its aftermath. "Needed me that bad, huh?"
You have no idea. The thought comes to you, but quickly disappears in the fog of your brain, muddled beyond recognition in the puddle between your ears.
"Poor pussy's just crying for me," he goes on, fingers replacing his mouth as they curl right at the angle bowing your back off the mattress. You face him with a mouth agape and screwed face, stars dancing in your vision's peripheral. "Hate to think what you would've done without me,"
A grin cracks, shit-eating and full of the confidence you give him. "Probably fucked yourself silly on your fingers wishing they were mine. Isn't that right, plaything?"
The cry you let out is released in pure ecstasy, thighs clamping together with the impossible squeeze of your walls, wound so incredibly tight you're gasping for air.
"Close already?" his eyebrow cocks, finger incessant on bringing you there. "Didn't take you as the easy type..."
It's everything you're not, but deep down inside, you know. The ring of truth in his words, that you'd bend over backwards to experience this night again and again, fuck yourself to the very same images and the shame only brings your orgasm closer, so close you could─
"What the fuck?"
The lustful film takes its time clearing your sight, but when your head swivels to the open door of the bedroom, it disappears immediately. Along with your soul as Jake's figure lingers at the doorway, his glasses skew at the sight before him.
Not optimal, you'd imagine.
He at least has the presence of mind to close the door. However, him stepping into the bedroom with an unreadable expression has you worried, body rushing to sit up as your legs close.
Heeseung seems to have other ideas, hand lightly sandwiched between your knees with a flick to keep them apart. In an unbelievable change of circumstances, you'd rather keep them closed.
"What is this?" his eyes bounce between you and Heeseung, the obvious unfolding before him. His vision cuts to you, shock keeping his lips apart. "Are you serious?"
His arms fling upwards, fingers carding through his mess of curls as he spins hopelessly, grappling for reason. Heeseung casts you a sidelong glance, then the mess Jake's unravelling into.
"You know her?" Heeseung asks, fingers retracting as he stands to his feet.
Spun back Heeseung's way, Jake only directs his attention to him, wild eyes blinking fiercely as he stresses. "She's the girl I was talking about."
The girl..they were talking about?
They talk?
A lot, it seems, as Heeseung turns to you with a look of horror.
A boulder sinks to the pits of your stomach.
"That's crazy because I was just─"
"I know what you were doing," Jake cuts him off, eyes swiftly on you. "To think I came here to…"
The words burn in the fire of his building frustration, his groan dulling the distant sounds of the party as his hand swipes across the bottom of his face, jaw tight with tension.
You've never seen him this way, so pissed the shine in his eyes burns to ashes. Expression clouded with features so rigid they stir a mess of emotions in you.
"Did you know?" he looks at you, appalled. "Did you know we were friends? Childhood friends, mind you. Was I just some plaything whilst you were busy with other guys? Were you screwing me around?"
"Jake," your head jerks back, stunned by his audacity. "We aren't dating,"
You continue despite the eerie silence. "I know we've…done stuff, but it was never, we were never…"
Dating.
You might as well have sucked all the life out of the room, every figure unmoving as the party goes on, drunk students blissfully unaware of a different mess occurring metres away.
"I asked you to be exclusive," he states, plain and simple. "I asked for his advice because I was so fucking scared but asked you anyways. Only for you say you weren't sure, that you'd think about it and give me any answer after our submission,"
His index finger gestures vaguely between you and Heeseung. "This your idea of thinking?"
Perhaps your luck has ran out, exhausted by the good graces that kept coming your way for reasons of which always seemed unfair. That much is clear in the rolling horror film staring you as its main lead.
"Jake," Heeseung speaks for the first time, your lifted head spying the hands he braces against his friend's shoulders. "Let's relax, okay? We can solve this."
Jake does a wild blink at him, ignoring you. "What do you mean solve this? You think I can just say keep fucking her bro, I don't even care?"
An amused huff gets out Heeseung's nose, laughter reeled back by the clamp of his lips. "No, that's not what I had in mind."
"What is?"
Heeseung's head turns to yours, then slowly Jake's. He's still mad, more wrecked than harbouring animosity. And Heeseung, he's unreadable as ever. Except when your pupils bounce between them, body curling into itself with a tremble, you sense it before you see it.
The sharp edges of his smirk, the very same one you'd worn when Jake was putty in your hands.
Shit.
Misfortune looks a bit different this time round.
In the four walls of some unfortunate's bedroom, you'd clutched the front of your top, deadset on the assumption that your luck had run out, that karma had finally coming knocking on your door. In the cat and mouse game you'd played with unlucky kills, you'd sold them a dream ─ shapeshifting into the affection they desperately wanted, sweet enough to get what you want and for them to never entertain anything else because they couldn't stand risk of losing you. And when a new, shiny toy came along or their feelings reached boiling point, the kiss of death awaited them, sugar-coated ending words all you could give before it was onto the next one.
There's some questionable morality in it, sure, but no one comes out of this life unscathed. Preachers of holier than thou most yield the bloodiest hands of all and frankly, you screwing over men isn't a crime regarded with the utmost of significance. However, you do have a conscience and in the howls of night, it kept you awake deliberating if your own selfish needs preceded Jake's feelings because if you're honest with yourself, he didn't deserve this. He'd giggle light as air coming across the campus' roaming cat, specifically carrying treats in case he encountered the furry animal, enthusiastically nod along with the prettiest of smiles in the mass of bored lecture hall-bound students making lecturer feel worth while and he treated you well. Made sure you never touched a door and pulled out all your chairs, taught you the missing links of the software you didn't dare mastering and met everything you ever said with eagerness, even the most mundane of details no one else cared for.
If this was an AITA re-telling, screen split displaying someone's mindless Minecraft sprint, the comment section would be aflame with sympathizers. Coddling Jake and calling you the very blatant asshole you are.
Perhaps this is what assholes get, striped of their dignity, all your clothes in a sorry pile on the carpeted floor as Heeseung and Jake remain covered, nothing but sin and vengeance in their eyes. They've only lowered their trousers enough to reveal their cocks, painfully hard in your presence but never giving in to what you push your hips for, because really, you on all fours is nothing but gratification for them, you a mere means to an end.
Funny how things change.
"Should've known you were like this when we fucked in my car," Jake gruffs, a sigh produced as his flushed tip paints your lips in precome. As a reflex, your eyes flicker to his, tongue running over the trail in a motion that makes him groan, his cock wasting no time feeding into your mouth. "So dirty."
Like he's one to talk. Because when Heeseung's suggestion is set in motion, he's all over you, the same song and dance, contrasted by the grain of possession and bottled resentment. His kisses are searing, prying the hunger out of you and when Heeseung sandwiches himself in the mix, hands fondling your nearly exposed chest, a firm grip holds your jaw in place, eyes blinking in a haze. Your vision catches up soon enough, watching as the knit between Jake's brows cements itself in the harsh spit he drops into your mouth, enough force to jerk your head back. Heeseung's finger flicks over your perked nipple, intensifying the moan echoed in the back of your throat. Jake witnesses it all, the twist of pleasure your features mould into and smiles briefly, wicked nonetheless before he proceeds to where you are now.
Behind you, Heeseung pulls out completely, a mewl around Jake's cock he croaks a rasped moan at. The same is mirrored by you as Heeseung traces your soaking entrance, marking it in a mixture of precome and your slick before he slides in again, your walls conforming to his generous size.
"That was you?" Heeseung asks, an incredulous laugh mixed in with the smack of your ass. "Fucking in a car? How desperate are you?"
An imprint sizzles against the flesh of your ass, muffled around the gag of your throat. "Must be plenty if you're moaning for cock like that."
If not for your busy mouth, you'd collapse under the weight of Heeseung's words, so deliriously wound by lust you can't see straight, muscles burning in your arms. The only thing you can muster is a poor gag, saliva dribbling down your chin as you peer upwards. Jake's still mad, his chest laboured with a rigid set to his once soft features, staring you down with an emotion only making your stomach churn.
"Think I prefer her when her mouth's filled. What you think, Jake?"
He talks about you like you're not in the room, tears rippling down your cheek from their tight squeeze. In an instant, they flutter open, blinking rapidly from the force of Heeseung's thrust feeding Jake further into your mouth.
"Yeah," he agrees, voice grounded in gravel as he gives you his dark eyes. "You'd think she'd respect herself enough to not let us do this."
Brought to your knees, the degrading words do something funny to your brain, rewrite its chemistry and fire neurons long left dormant in the play you've busied yourself with Jake. You being the one in control, calling all the shots, only to meet your makers.
"Poor girl's leaking over everywhere," Heeseung chastises, grip bruising on your hips as he fucks you within an inch of your life, desperate gasps for air coming out in gurgles around Jake's length, prioritising his release fast approaching. "Your greed knows no end, huh? That's why you've done all this. Couldn't be satisfied with one cock, had to choke on two,"
Molten lava's poured down your back, arching it in a deep bow only allowing Heeseung to reach deeper, the deepest part of you bruised with punishment, the kind that curls your toes and rolls your eyes back in ecstasy. The twist in your lower bell is weaved so violently, as tight as you feel and the release you're nearing feels too explosive for words, a hopeless claw hinging and falling off the material of Jake's trousers.
Something like please is mumbled around Jake's length, tears clumping your lashes together as your only salvation is Jake, his figure haloed in the wrath of Heeseung's pistons, so persistent on ruining you from the inside out.
"Jake," your neck cranes, a dire inhale taken as your lips detach from his cock, string of saliva connecting you to his tip. "Please, I can't─I'm gonna,"
The end of your sentence frays into a rasped moan, a particular thrust dealt to you rendering you a sack of bones, nearly melting into the pathetic puddle you currently identify with. Jake saves you the embarrassment, jaw in his hand as he props you up, your arms shaking with the rest of your body, taking on more bliss than it can handle.
"Thought you wanted this, to have your cake and eat it too, no?" he relents, your jaw forgotten in the pursuit of his own orgasm, red-knuckled fisting his cock out the reach of your mouth. "You should be thanking us for going easy on you, you should thank me. Say it."
Timidity chooses now to intervene, the scorch of your cheeks incomparable with the palm smacked against your clit, a buck of your body curving it into half a circle as Heeseung laughs behind you, resuming his steady pace.
"I'd listen to him if I were you," Heeseung suggests, words breathy as he nears his own orgasm, chasing it with the bounce of your ass. "Would improve your chances of coming."
A slave to your own pleasure, your fingers curl in the duvet covers of another, line of sight finding Jake's. His lips are caught between his teeth, muffling the same broken moans you've become well acquainted with, the image furthering the twist in your belly as your eyes pinch together, letting shame swallow you whole.
"Thank─"
The gesture dies there, intercepted by the long drawn out moan Jake emits, enveloping the hot room as he orgasms, your face his canvas as spurts of come catch onto your features. Your eyes close on instinct, come landing over the makeup you'd spent the better part of getting ready perfecting, now covered in Jake's act of a get-back, stooping you to the level you'd always regarded him with. It should flare some annoyance, some shred of offence, but in the clench of your walls, memorising every ridge and vein of Heeseung's cock still hitting all the spots that make you weak, you can only let out a gasp, disbelief huffing out your chest in a hollow laugh. Like the delirious chuckle you give, your tongue lolls out over your lips to lick remnants of come within reach.
"Shit, I'm gonna come," Heeseung rasps behind you, grip firming on your hips as all your ears pick up on is the smack of skin, your breaths ragged as your arms crumble to the bed, giving in. Perched on the fold of your arms, your forehead braces, lungs expanding for oxygen you're pressed for, the fire alight in your body all consuming.
"I'll give you a present for your troubles. That's what girls like you like, right? Being filled with come?"
Rhetorical questions never yield answers and if you had one working brain cell, perhaps you could've conjured up a snarky reply, left the room with some semblance of dignity but again ─ if you're ruled by anything, it's your own selfish greed.
So, your legs flail in aimless kicks and circles, dulled ache in your jaw from its permanent extension as desperation flies out your mouth.
"Pleasepleaseplease, please come in me," you wail, release close enough to taste. "You're gonna make me─!"
Your pathetic rambles are cut off by your own scream, unleashed from the depths of you where Heeseung notches himself one last time before he comes, satisfying your bottomless hunger as he paints your walls in white. Your orgasm rocks you beyond comprehension, body lapsing into convulsions, your figure slumping into the plush of the mattress when Heeseung pulls out, the remainder of his come painted across the expanse of your ass.
You're left to shiver and shake, left to wallow in the consequences of your actions as your pressed chest attempts to sustain the aftermath of your body, eventually regaining it enough to lose its laboured rhythm. When you come to, your head lifts to survey your surroundings, finding Jake still there. Perched in front of you, having watched every moment of your undoing.
You must still have some come smeared on you, deducted from the glide of his fingers gathering a sample from your cheek, offered centimetres from your lips. A pout is all it'd take for Jake to relent last, except this isn't like before. The tide's changed and as much as you feign some decency, it's of your volition when your lips pry again, digesting the come sample off Jake's fingers, tongue swirling along his fingers to not leave a drop behind.
"You're fucked," Jake says, stating the obvious. There should be malice in his words, but you can't find any, none detected in the softened hue of his eyes, peripheral spying his fingers leave your mouth with a wet pop. "But you're ours now,"
He gets up to leave, a form of panic flaring in your chest at his departure and what ours mean. True to himself and you, he doesn't leave without the press of his lips to your forehead, a stray hair tucked behind your ear before he utters his last words.
"See you tomorrow."
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livin' in sin is the new thing (are you in?) ᯓ★ part 2
read part 1 here or it won't make sense!
pairing(s) | lee heeseung x f!reader, 02z line x f!reader
synopsis | jake is convinced you and heeseung are dating, which is inconvenient because he cannot prove it, and also because he and his stupid friends have less than innocent feelings about you. unfortunately, you're just too darling and irresistible that putting his friendship with heeseung above his attraction to you might just be a little bit difficult.
wc | 10,273
genres | smut with lots of plot, misunderstanding, comedy, jake fighting for his life, it's still til it's not
warning(s) | explicit sexual content (mdni), infidelity but it's a misunderstanding, heeseung and mc are together but it's not exclusive, gaslighter sunghoon, mc is depicted as very feminine and referred to as cute a lot, jake has very objectifying thoughts about mc, everyone is at least a bit evil, barely beta'd, nsfw tags below!
nsfw tags | dom!hee, dom!hoon, switch!mc, switch!jake, jake is a cuck lol, unprotected sex, public sex (in da jacuzzi), voyeurism, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, crying (mc cries and jake cries, let's celebrate), dacryphilia, masturbation (m and f), cumming untouched, non-consensual biting, so much teasing, somewhat rough sex, finger sucking, that's it methinks.
Few words could describe what Jake was feeling in that moment. It felt like somebody just strapped him to an electroshock machine and maxed out all the dials. His brain was fried before he could begin to make sense of how Sunghoon could possibly fit into the puzzle. The facts were: you clearly arranged for a bath with him and he made a terrible cum joke before getting in with you. Which could mean nothing…?
Jake cautiously opened his eyes a bit wider as he heard water sloshing around, trying to catch a glimpse of what bullshit Sunghoon could be up to with you out there. Under any other circumstances, he would not think twice about you soaking in a hot tub with anybody (he actually would but for a different, hornier reason), but doing it this early in the morning was definitely suspicious. Not to mention, Sunghoon was clearly trying to be discreet though he was decidedly bad at that. Could you really fault Jake for jumping to conclusions that you were going to do a repeat of Halloween Gate, this time with Sunghoon? And too bad for the two of you, Jake was right there again, ready to bear witness to whatever depravity would take place.
The moment Sunghoon sunk into the bubbling water, his hands were on your body immediately. He tucked his face into the crook of your neck and took a deep whiff like the fucking pervert that he was. Your eyelids fluttered shut when he reached for your jaw to connect your lips together in a messy kiss. Jake twitched a little on the couch.
"Not gonna let me soak a little first?" you pouted, though your eyebrows quirked up in amusement.
"Aren't we on a time crunch?" Sunghoon grinned as he pressed his lips to your jaw, his prominent fangs peeking out deviously. He tugged your bikini top down and greedily groped your tits with both of his hands.
Seeing your exposed figure in daylight was so disarming that Jake entirely forgot to have his chastising monologue. He was too occupied with watching Sunghoon strip you naked to even remember Heeseung was in the picture. Jake had to fight back a shudder when Sunghoon lifted you from the water to perch you on the edge of the tub, spreading your thighs apart just enough to slot himself in between. Right before Sunghoon blocked the view with his big head, Jake did manage to get an eyeful of your drooling pussy and that one glimpse was enough to get him rock hard in his pajama pants.
"Thought you said—hmm!" you whimpered when Sunghoon pushed his whole face into your heat, "we were on a time crunch?"
In lieu of a response, Sunghoon gripped the back of your thighs harder and slurped obscenely. Once again, Jake was pissed he couldn't see anything beyond Sunghoon's mop of hair but the sight of your heaving chest and scrunched up face was enough to placate him. Hearing you from Halloween night already made him sick in the head, but with the added visuals, he feared he would never be well again. You squealed and clamped your thighs shut when Sunghoon no doubt sucked your clit into his mouth and Jake so badly wanted to be in his friend's place that his own mouth started watering. He was so hard it hurt but he could only give his length a couple discreet squeezes out of fear that you would see him. Jake could not afford to get caught. He would have to change his name and move countries if that happened.
Whine after whine fell from your slacked jaw, reverberating in the otherwise tranquil morning air and also the insides of Jake's head where they'd remain for weeks. Whatever happened to being discreet? It was almost like you wanted to wake Heeseung up with how loud you were being. You braced yourself with a hand in Sunghoon's hair and rocked your hips erratically like you were already on edge. Sunghoon did brag extensively that he gave excellent head and Jake was never a believer, but maybe he had to change his mind.
"Hoonie," you crooned, head drooping to the side as you fought to keep your eyes open. You tried to say something again but the words got stuck in your throat as Sunghoon lifted your hips fully into the air and groaned into your pussy like he was the one receiving pleasure.
"Gonna cum already?" Pulling away from between your thighs, Sunghoon taunted, sounding so fucking smug Jake had to resist the urge to get up and strangle him. "Cute. This cunt's so fucking easy."
"'m not easy," you warbled indignantly, scrunching your brows together as you explained, "just played with myself a bit before you came."
It took everything for Jake to not curse out loud. Did you touch yourself in the tub and he just fully missed it? Or were you face down, ass up next to Heeseung in bed, humping your hand because you couldn't wait to see his best friend? Somehow the second scenario his brain made up was even worse than the first.
"Yeah?" It seemed Sunghoon was similarly affected by this new piece of information because he looked insane when he pulled away, despite your hips chasing after his mouth in protest. He then got up and perched himself against your side, tucking you into his arms to better watch your face twist as he demanded, "Show me."
Then it was Jake's hips that jumped, this time in anticipation. He knew Sunghoon would make you do some lewd shit like this. And thank fuck his friend decided to switch position, because now Jake could freely drink in the sight of your bare body, from your heaving chest down to your pussy, sensitive and glistening from a mixture of your own arousal and Sunghoon's spit. The face you made was indescribable—your nose twitched like that of a bunny as you chewed on your bottom lip and suddenly avoided eye contact. You looked embarrassed, Jake realized, an expression he rarely got to see on you and he decided right then that he liked it a lot.
"Show me or I won't fuck you." Sunghoon repeated, his face hardening as he dug his fingers into your side meanly. It was an empty threat of course; there was no chance that Sunghoon would pass up an opportunity to stick his cock inside you.
Jake half expected you to claw at Sunghoon in protest because you were so bratty with Jay but this time, you surprisingly obeyed without much of a fight. Sunghoon looked incredibly pleased, which pissed Jake off to no end, to watch you desperately rub your clit in messy circles with one trembling hand while your other one pulled at one of your nipples. Without noticing, you puffed out your cheeks, which was so unfittingly cute for the moment that Jake had to sink his nails into his thighs to stop himself from full on humping the blanket.
No wonder Heeseung was obsessed with you—if you were in Jake's bed every night playing with yourself looking this precious, he would also never leave you alone. It got so much fucking worse when he remembered that you were being so sweet for Sunghoon of all people, his conniving, irredeemable best friend.
"Fuck yeah, that's it," said conniving, irredeemable best friend pressed a kiss to your knee in encouragement. He ghosted his fingers over your lower stomach and grinned when it caved in, "So needy, you want my help?"
"Please," you titled your head up to look at him with big puppy eyes, trying to make him feel bad for you as your movements became more erratic the closer you got to your orgasm, "my fingers—I can't reach."
"Aw, your little fingers aren't enough?" Sunghoon tutted, a satisfied smirk stretched across his stupid mug.
You shook your head no as you begged again, your voice wobbling more with each passing second. Even Jake was getting antsy on your behalf. He was really not enjoying Sunghoon edging both you and him for no reason, especially when the fucker himself said you two were strapped for time.
Sunghoon let you whine and work yourself up a little more before finally deciding to help you out. He eased his fingers inside your hole with little resistance and stretched you open the way you deserved. Jake stifled a moan into his blanket at the way your body instantly locked up, mouth hanging open as you were overcome with pleasure. He needed relief so bad, but you and Sunghoon were right there, separated from him only by a glass panel. He had to at least wait until both of you were too lost in pleasure to notice him.
"'s so good," you hiccuped, your fingers still frantic on your clit as you tried your best to rut into Sunghoon's hand. You were getting there quickly, and Jake knew because he remembered exactly what you sounded like when you were close.
"Bet it is. You gonna cum?" Sunghoon's composure was not all there anymore but he still had this devilish smile on his face when you nodded and started balling your free hand up. He made that heinous looking face because he proceeded to pull his fingers clean from your clenching hole with a delighted chuckle.
Not this bullshit again.
Jake felt bad for you, but not that bad because you started to cry. Shockingly, he had never seen you cry throughout the entirety of his three-year friendship with you. You were actually great at fake crying, puffing your cheeks out all petulant and making your eyes appear shiny with unshed tears like some kind of magic. He'd only seen you genuinely close to tears once before (Heeseung got really mad at you and didn't speak to you for a week. It was a whole thing), but nothing like this.
There was always something slightly cheeky about your expression even when you weren't actively smiling. But right then, when you were denied your orgasm a second time, your whole face twisted into something incredibly distraught before fat tears started rolling down your cheeks. Barely any sound escaped your down-turned mouth, just tiny swallowed gasps while your whole body shook. You just looked so, so vulnerable that Jake felt a huge glob of precum dribble from his tip.
Amazingly, Sunghoon hadn't have to touch himself once up until just then. You bursting into tears was the thing that finally did him in because he shamelessly groaned, looking delirious as hell, then immediately palmed his hard-on for relief. The fact that he was so visibly affected by the sight of your tears woefully reminded Jake that they were cut from the same cloth.
"Oh princess, don't cry," Sunghoon cooed, fighting back a grin when you repeatedly slammed your fists into his chest with all your might, "I feel really bad."
You punched him once more for good measure before calming down, "No you don't, perv!"
You were correct, of course. Jake was amused at how quickly the bratty edge returned to your voice. By then, he was done with the squinting because not missing anything had regrettably taken priority over not getting caught.
"'m cold," you glared at Sunghoon, fully expecting him to do something about it, to which he chuckled and promptly pulled you back into the warm water. He didn't even bother hiding how geeked he was that you were so pissed off.
Jake barely got to lament the loss of his ultra-high-definition view because Sunghoon's patience finally ran out. He kissed your tear-streaked cheek as the last act of tenderness before forcing you up on your tippy toes until your back was flat against his front, your ass flushed to his crotch. Jake had to thank the heavens that this new position gave him more of you and less of his treacherous friend, but it also meant the chances of him getting busted increased exponentially.
"Gonna fuck you now," Sunghoon mumbled, nosing into your neck where he then licked a fat stripe, vile but understandable. Jake opened his eyes as wide as they could go, following Sunghoon's every move as he freed his cock from his shorts and lined up to your hole. You exhaled as if bracing yourself but a cry ripped from your chest anyway as Sunghoon thrust up in one smooth motion.
"Holy fuck—" he gritted through clenched teeth, not allowing you even a second to adjust. After all that teasing, he must be at his limit too and set a brutal pace right away, jolting your body forward with every snap of his hips,"'s fucking tight."
Usually, Jake was not in the business of thinking about what his friends had packed up in their pants but just this once he would allow himself to marvel at how fucking massive Sunghoon was. He had to be stretching you to your absolute limits; the squelches were so loud Jake couldn't even begin to imagine how wet you were and yet the slide still looked difficult. Jake felt his cock throb again. He needed to be inside you too, what the fuck. The visual stimulus, plus Sunghoon's nonstop grunting about how tight you were were borderline unbearable.
You kept blubbering Sunghoon's name like it was the only word you know, so unabashedly loud that he had to stuff his fingers into your mouth. It was a bit late for that but any visuals of you with things in your mouth were much appreciated. When Sunghoon discovered the angle that made your pussy squeeze particularly hard, he quite literally trapped you in place with one of his arms and pistoned his hips fast enough that you started to convulse uncontrollably. Your voice quickly rose in pitch as you tried your best warbling through Sunghoon's fingers, warning him that you'd make a mess.
"Give it to me, c'mon," Sunghoon pulled his fingers from your mouth to rub tight circles on your clit, forcing your head to fall back against his shoulders in a frenzy. You mumbled something that prompted Sunghoon to seal his mouth over yours in a desperate kiss, looking like he was seconds away from combusting himself. Beautiful, now you were sharing romantic secret banter that Jake couldn't participate in.
"'m cumming! Oh god—" your voice was getting all high and squeaky, the same way it did when you were cumming on Jay's cock. While your eyes instinctively clamped shut, Jake's own could not be more peeled. This was the first, and possibly the only time he'd ever get to see you like this. And good god, what a sight—you gushing on a fat cock with the lewdest moan he'd ever heard, clenching so hard that Sunghoon's hips stuttered. The mess you left behind was obscene, coating Sunghoon's cock and your own thighs in a milky, sticky glaze.
"Fuck yeah—" it was Sunghoon's turn to blubber, looking truly fucked up with his eyes rolled and face flushed. Jake had never seen him pull such a face before and it made him feel a little weird in the stomach. Undeterred by your furious spasming, Sunghoon continued slamming into your hole, fucking both you and himself dumb, "Squeezin' me so fucking tight. You're gonna make me cum, baby."
Jake could not agree more with his traitorous best friend. He was driving himself mad imagining you creaming on his own cock like that. In fact, he liked the thought of it so much that he came completely untouched without realizing, shaking violently enough that you would definitely notice if you were of sound mind. He squeezed his eyes shut and fought hard to keep his noises down as globs of cum spurted from his tip.
Well that was humiliating, even more so than fisting his cock to the sound of Jay fucking you in the room over with a Velma wig on his head. Alas, there was no time for him to process anything yet, much less that this orgasm didn't even feel gratifying, just wet and embarrassing. He could tell you were nearing the point of overstimulation, especially when Sunghoon picked you up and slammed you back down like you weighed nothing, your body hovering in the air and entirely at his mercy.
"Pull out," you whined, voice trembling through the aftershocks of your orgasm though it carried no real urgency. Sunghoon grunted in acknowledgement but kept going, certainly too euphoric to even hear what you said. You resorted to pinching his arm and repeated yourself, "Pull out! I'm serious!"
"'m doing it, god—" Sunghoon huffed like this was the worst thing that had ever happened to him before slipping out with a pained groan. Oh, the squelch. Jake's pull out game was notoriously atrocious so if he was balls deep inside you, there was no way he could pull out in time.
Sunghoon rutted against your back, hips bucking wildly before he came with a drawn out moan that Jake could only describe as whorish. As he slowly came down from his high, he tightened his hold on your body with a content sigh, pressing a few kisses into your neck before sinking his teeth into your shoulder blade hard enough that it had to hurt.
Taken aback, your mouth warped into a pained ow, "No!" you flopped your head forward with a deep frown, "I said no marks!"
"So dramatic," he bared his canines, completely disregarding your complaint, "It's a little souvenir for your boyfriend."
Jake's jaw dropped at the audacity, and also at the mention of your boyfriend who he'd conveniently forgot about. Last time, he'd had enough mental clarity to feel all torn up but this time, the sight of you stupefied him enough that he forgot to have his moral policing monologue entirely. If Jake was in Heeseung's position, there was no telling how he would react. If he was your devoted boyfriend, kissing down your sweet little body with love in his heart only to find teeth marks that your secret lover purposefully left behind like an Easter egg, he would create a level of hell specifically for that fucker.
You were mad at Sunghoon, but not that mad clearly because you turned your head for a couple more kisses with your face still scrunched up all cute. This was the mushy bullshit he didn't care to watch at all so he squeezed his eyes shut again.
"D'you think we woke Jake up?" you hummed into Sunghoon's mouth, finally glancing at his crumpled form on the sofa. Jake nearly jumped out of his fucking skin, so grateful that he had the foresight to shut his eyes. His heart was beating so fast he thought he was going to die.
"With how loud you were, probably."
You whined like you were only mildly annoyed by the idea, "You were loud too! Don't pin it all on me."
"You know," Sunghoon spoke in between the sticky smacks, "he saw you Halloween night, with Jay."
"No fucking way, oh my god."
The way you gasp made Jake believe you were genuinely shocked by this information. But that was not the detail he fixated on. He recalled his talk with Sunghoon in the library when he couldn't sit with his secret anymore, and the fucker convinced him he imagined the whole thing. He even pulled his phone out to show him the picture—the picture.
It slowly dawned on Jake that he got fucking played. How could it have been 1:07 am, October 31st. The party was on Halloween night. Sunghoon messed with the timestamp on that photo and did it wrong like the fucking idiot he was.
He couldn't even begin to describe how betrayed he felt, the lump in his throat getting thicker as his eyes stung with tears. Both of his treacherous friends slept with you in front of his face, behind your boyfriend's back and they prepared an alibi in case things went south.
"Made the guy's night, by the way." Jake could hear the grin in Sunghoon's voice and it drove him fucking nuts. Even worse, you didn't have anything to say, just giggled like Jake's ire was funny, and resumed licking into Sunghoon's mouth. He indulged you for another second before peeling from your touch, judging from the water sloshing around, "Okay, stop or I'm gonna get hard again. Go clean up before your little boyfriend wakes up."
Jake could barely hold himself back from getting up and giving Sunghoon a black eye when the two of you got out of the tub. He resorted to gripping his blanket a little tighter until the sounds of your pitter pattering feet faded into the distance, then immediately bolted to the nearest bathroom. Jake thought he would be too angry upon learning the truth to still be horny but who was he kidding. The visual of your tight cunt creaming his best friend's cock was seared into his brain and what was he supposed to do? Not get hard again? He could be stroking himself through tears but there was no chance that he wouldn't do it, especially after that embarrassing and utterly unsatisfying orgasm.
After turning the water on the strongest setting possible, Jake stripped himself bare, grimacing at the mess he'd already made just minutes ago. He moaned unabashedly, praying that the running water muffled some of his noises as he pumped his cock in earnest. Closing his eyes, Jake's mind was immediately flooded with images of your round cheeks, your mouth open and shiny with spit, your eyes heavy with lust and unshed tears.
"Oh fuck—" Jake hissed as he thumbed his slit and imagined you digging your cute little tongue in it. He thought about how pretty you sounded when you begged for Jay's cum in your mouth, then his brain jumped to your cunt making a filthy mess on Sunghoon's cock. Jake thrust into his fist with a broken whimper, pretending that it was your tight hole. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you until you walk funny, to make you scream so loud you lose your voice.
"Take it. That's it—holy shit—"
Jake knocked his head against the tiles, cumming so hard he felt dizzy. He panted, wincing from oversensitivity but couldn't stop moving his hips. This wouldn't be the first time he rubbed himself raw because of you anyway; he was constantly testing the limit of how many times he could cum before he had to check himself into a hospital. It took until he started cumming dry and his skin turned red from the scorching water that he finally got out of the shower.
When he managed to drag his worn out body into the kitchen, you were already there with your clueless boyfriend, clearly looking like he just got out of bed. Heeseung was hunched over the espresso machine with only one eye open and you had your arms around his middle in a tight hug, your face digging into his back. Jake was one second from hurling his entire digestive track out in the middle of the kitchen. To make matters worse, Sunghoon decided to waltz in right after, hair sopping wet with just a robe on like he was trying to die from hypothermia.
"Hey," Heeseung mumbled, pouring his single shot of espresso into a full glass of milk, "morning dip?"
"Something like that, yeah" Sunghoon cracked a tiny inconspicuous smile.
Heeseung grunted but didn't inquire further and Jake felt like clawing all the hair out his scalp. He finally decided to acknowledge Jake standing stock-still in the middle of the living room with a twitch of his lips that bordered on amusement, "Good morning, Jake."
"Good morning, Jake!" you parroted with a grin of your own, finally unsticking your face from your boyfriend's back, "Slept okay?"
Jake felt his blood pressure spike. Sadly, in the aftermath of Jacuzzi Gate, he could never act normal around you again. He took a beat to reply, having to make up some bullshit about needing acupuncture because the couch did a number on his neck.
"Hungry?" Sunghoon quipped, forcing Jake to whip his head towards him with animosity. He was juggling three apples like a fucking clown and tossed one to Jake which he narrowly caught.
Of course right after busting what had to have been the fattest nut of his life, Sunghoon would be doing circus tricks. Jake rolled his eyes but bit into the apple anyway.
He watched mirthfully as Sunghoon casually slotted himself on your right while your boyfriend was on your left at the dining table. Now that the fog had somewhat cleared from his head, Jake was finally processing the fact that not one, but both of his best friends hooked up with you. They were in cahoots the entire time, fabricating evidence and lying to Jake for weeks. He felt ill thinking about what other debauchery you three were up to when he wasn't there. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, specifically at Sunghoon. He was the one that had the nerve to act all confused when Jake fessed up to him. He was the one that doctored the timestamp on the late night ramen selfie and did it wrong, which had to have been the most egregious part. More than anything, Jake felt like the dumbest person in the world because he fell for such a sorry excuse of a cover-up job.
The question then was how would Jake proceed from there. Obviously, he had to tell Heeseung at some point, sooner rather than later. But then Heeseung would inevitably asked what he was doing at the time and why he waited ages before telling the truth. Jake couldn't admit to your boyfriend that he was too busy cumming buckets to the thought of you, clearly. All roads seemed to lead to destruction and at that point he was seriously considering flinging himself out the window.
"What's up with you?" Heeseung mumbled through a sip of coffee, "So clingy today," he continued but made no move to stop you from leaning into his side.
You paused your movement for an millisecond, barely noticeable, "Just missed you."
Jake bristled at how smoothly you lied. Heeseung didn't even notice and just cooed at you like you were so sweet. It was clear that you were clinging more than usual out of guilt, especially since the reminder of your misconduct was siting right next to you and having a grand ole time. Speaking of, Sunghoon had the nerve to chuckle at your lie like he wasn't also responsible. If it was up to Jake he would have been strung up and stoned already.
"You're silly." Heeseung pressed a kiss to your head in a sickening display of affection, fingering the pendant on your chest like it was muscle memory.
Jake was debating if he should just confront you right there. All the offenders in this insane cheating plot were conveniently in one place already. He could just wait a little until Jay woke up and corner both him and Sunghoon at once. It would be so fucking easy for him to prove it too; certainly those teeth marks Sunghoon left on your shoulder were still fresh.
But then what would become of you? Even though you were clearly the most guilty, he just couldn't find it in him to hate you. If he just blurted everything out right then, surely your boyfriend would desert you. Surely, you would be distressed and break down in tears—though he shouldn't imagine that too hard in case his dick sprung up again. Surely, you would hate his guts and that was the last thing he wanted.
After waging war inside his head, Jake decided to wait it out just a bit more, at least until this break was over. He would have to talk to Heeseung about this in a way that would not incriminate you too much, brace himself for punches and also for the inevitable friend group break up. Jake sighed forlornly, which prompted Sunghoon to stare at him with this pointed look on his face. Personally, he could not give a fuck if Heeseung decided to punch Sunghoon extra hard, if anything, he actively manifested it.
The rest of the day proceeded without incident though Jake did have to stomach like five more kisses you shared with Heeseung. Just like Jay, Sunghoon was not moved at all seeing you cozy up to your boyfriend. Perhaps he was content with simply being your sidepiece. Had Jake been the boyfriend or even the sidepiece in this situation, he would have already been on the news for domestic terrorism.
Difficult as it was, Jake did manage to abstain from interacting with you for the remainder of the trip. He stuck to Jay's side most of the time only because he was a little less mad at him. You, ever so observant, picked up on his behavior rather quickly. But aside from some questioning glances, you didn't prod him. Honest to god, he felt terrible about what he was planning to do even though it was technically the right thing. He prayed that if Heeseung decided to throw 20 punches, Sunghoon would get 10 by himself while Jay and him would split the other 10 between them. And if you became single, well, he hoped he would be higher up in your roster than Sunghoon.
Alas, the day Jake had been dreading for weeks arrived—he had to talk to Heeseung.
He contemplated giving himself an out by telling Heeseung over text. But he thought a little harder and decided he had to brave it. If he was your boyfriend and someone broke the news to him via a "hey girlie, u don't know me but" text, he would have to kill everybody and then himself. He did text Heeseung though, mostly to prepare himself for what would transpire.
you: heeseung i need to talk to u
you: in person
hee: ?
you: its serious
hee: lol. sure im free after 8. come over
Jake had rehearsed his line in front of a mirror before hand but as he was pulling into the parking lot of Heeseung's apartment complex, he couldn't pretend like he wasn't about to throw up. He had to perform hypnotherapy on himself to even get out of the car and make it into the elevator. Halfway up, he started praying that the elevator would crash but much to his chagrin, he arrived without a hitch.
Well. This was it. Jake held his breath and rang the doorbell.
He squeezed his eyes shut and braced for impact like Heeseung was about to come out the door fist first.
"Jake? What are you doing here?"
His eyes shot open as the resolve that he'd worked so hard to build crumbled instantly. What the fuck. Why the fuck were you here.
What kind of a stupid question was that, this was basically your house, of course you would be here. He should have specified to Heeseung that they needed to talk without you around. He took back every degrading words he'd ever said about Jay and Sunghoon because he was officially the dumbest one out of all three of them. What was he supposed to do when you were peering up at him from behind the door like that. Also what the fuck were you wearing. Did you usually open the doors for people in these tiny pajamas? Jake was about to have an aneurysm right at your door step.
"Hi Jake," you repeated, wearing an expression he couldn't decipher, "What are you doing here?"
"I need to talk to Heeseung." He mumbled, eyes glued to his feet because he'd be damned if he made it all this way to talk to Heeseung about your infidelity and still managed to be seduced by you.
"Oh!" The easy smile you always wore returned to your face, "Heeseung just went to the store. He'll be back soon."
Against his better judgment, Jake looked at you—to be polite, obviously. Immediately he felt his throat turn into sandpaper as he took in the sight of you dressed in a baby pink camisole and tiny matching shorts. Oh. That meant nothing to him, by the way, he couldn't care less about what you wore.
You cleared your throat, clearly amused by his staring, which prompted him to look down again in shame, "Are you gonna come in or just stand there?"
Begrudgingly, he shuffled in and took as long as possible taking his shoes and coat off. You bent down to give him a pair of fuzzy indoor slippers and he had to do a double take—what the fuck, why were your tits just out. A gazillion flashbacks popped into his head against his will and he had to pinch his thigh so he wouldn't pop a boner. You didn't notice, or perhaps didn't care that you had such an effect on him because you left him to his own devices in the living room and disappeared into the kitchen.
Jake just barely sat down on Heeseung's plush couch when you spoke again, not allowing him a moment of peace, "Is juice okay? Sorry, we don't have anything fun to drink."
"Yeah. Anything's fine."
You came back with two glasses of ice cold beverages, setting them down on the coffee table before sitting down across from Jake. He instinctively noticed the way your thighs squished out against the couch and it stressed him out so much he had to redirect his attention to the cute bunnies on his glass. Oh, it was Miffy. He didn't know you liked Miffy. You didn't say anything, just had this unreadable twinkle in your eyes and the ghost of a smile on your rosy lips. Jake decided that the best course of action for him would be to count the threads in the rug and not look at you until Heeseung came back.
"Sooooo—" you chirped and Jake didn't even have to look at you to know you were pursing your lips, "what did you want to talk to Heeseung about?"
"'s nothing."
"Well clearly not nothing," you sounded annoyed, but still unmistakeably playful, "if you're this stressed out over it."
Jake tried to maintain his composure but it was hard seeing as he was already sweating through his shirt, "Please—" he said your name with as little desperation as possible, "can you just leave me alone?"
You scoffed and he made a grave mistake by glancing at you. There was this unsettling look on your face like you already knew why he was here and was about to push him out of the window to cover your tracks. Jake shivered a little—why was Heeseung taking so long, did he get fucking kidnapped or something? Did he get taken out by Jay and Sunghoon so they could finalize their grand plan of being a throuple with you?
"Hmm," leaning back on your palms, you cocked your head to the side and hummed, "so you aren't here to tell Heeseung you caught me and Jay at the party?"
Jake was stunned, frozen in his seat as you made your way over to him. He didn't know what to make of the smile on your face—you still looked sweet, somewhat, but there was a hint of something in your expression that Jake belatedly realized was challenge. You were testing him. Jake flinched when you sat down next to him, the scent of your body wash quickly undoing him.
"You aren't here to tell Heeseung you saw me and Sunghoon in the tub?"
You were close enough that Jake could feel the heat radiating off your skin, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when you placed a hand on his knee. Even an innocent touch from you was enough to send all his nerves reeling.
"Why are you doing this?" Jake's voice was surprisingly meek to his own ears. Any nausea that he had managed to quell from before was suddenly coming back as he processed that you definitely saw him humping the blanket while watching Sunghoon fuck you.
"Why am I doing this?" you pressed a finger to your plush lips, pretending to think, "Why are you doing this, Jake?"
Jake had to fold into himself when you inched forward until your arms were caging him in. He felt small despite being physically bigger than you, which was something he'd never thought would happen. One of the straps on your camisole slipped off your shoulder, baring the smooth skin underneath to his eyes and he felt his dick traitorously jump in his pants.
You stuck your lips out in a little pout, making a show of widening your eyes while you smoothed your hands up the expanses of his thigh, "Are you gonna tell Heeseung you were jacking off in the shower while moaning my name too?"
He watched with horror as your pout twisted into a devious smirk. You'd heard him in the shower that time. Jake opened his mouth, an excuse already on the tip of his tongue. For the first time in his life, he felt wary of you. You, who were always cute and giggly, always curling into people's side and preening for affection, were the same person backing him into a corner. If you decided to tell Heeseung exactly and only that—which was the truth—Jake would be done for. Nothing he said afterwards would have any credibility ever again.
"Jaaake," you dragged his name out in that sweet way that would usually make him drool, bracketing him in with your thighs. You quirked an eyebrow, giving him a second to decide if he was going to shove you off before fully settling down on his lap. Jake visibly shuddered. Your fingertips danced against his exposed forearms, leaving goosebumps in their wake, "Are you gonna get me in trouble?"
The pout on your face made his stomach churn—you were doing that doe-eyed innocent shtick again and Jake should feel sick to his stomach but didn't. This was his dream, having you on his lap like this, dressed in not very much clothes at all and close enough that he could smell your hair and feel the heat of your skin—Jake shouldn't have let you get this close to him. Heeseung could come bursting through the front door any second.
"Please—" Jake didn't know what he was begging for. His fingertips froze against the sides of your bare thighs, itching with the urge to grab you.
"Please what?" You cooed, voice so soft it was barely audible.
Jake tried not to stutter, coming up blank. He looked down to avoid eye contact with you only to get slapped in the face with the sight of your chest, slightly exposed in your askew camisole—just the right amount of skin to activate his saliva glands. He glanced back up just slightly and immediately went red in the face because of fucking course you caught him staring at your tits.
"You wanna see?" you flattened your lips like you were trying to hold back a laugh and casually slipped your top off, baring your naked skin to him like your boyfriend was not even in the back of your mind.
It was like a switch went off in Jake's brain because he lost all control and immediately reached for two greedy handfuls of your tits. He thumbed over your nipples, stifling a whimper when they pebbled right up. But when you moaned in response to his ministration, he suddenly yanked his hand back from your body like he'd just been burned. He couldn't believe he just gave into his base impulses so easily.
"This is so wrong—"
"Jake, you just groped me."
The way you snorted at him with that deadpan expression only made him shrink into himself even more. In all of his fantasies, he was the one towering over you and bending you to his will. He never even thought of you as anything other than soft, so you having control over him in such a way came as a shock. Though he made up his mind that he liked this side of you too rather quickly.
"Please, this is not okay—" he tried to pull you off his lap half-heartedly as one last attempt at feigning righteousness. There was a real fear that Heeseung could come back right this second and catch him leaking through his pants and you half naked on his lap. He would not be able to explain himself out of this conundrum. But all his thoughts cease to exist because you pressed your palm against the tent in his pants with this look on your face like you'd won.
"Even you don't believe that," your lips twitched with barely concealed satisfaction, "You're so hard, you like me that much?" You cooed at the way his hips jump, chasing your touch and decided to reward him with a few firm squeezes.
"D'you even have to ask?" Jake figured there was no point in denying it anymore, and your face immediately took on this playful edge like you were so giddy at his admission.
"Why? Because I'm cute?" you pressed your lips to his Adam's apple and grinned when it bobbed. Trailing your fingers up the length of his cock, now freed from the constraints of his pants, you continued, "Or because I'm taken?"
Jake blanched, refusing to process what you just said. You didn't seem to care about the peril you just put him in and continued cooing at his cock dribbling in your palm. You look so pleased with his desperation that he didn't mind acting like a whore for you, when it really should have been the other way around.
"Want a kiss?"
"Fuck, please—" Jake just about exploded in your hands. When you bent down and pressed your lips to his tip, just a little kiss, leaving behind a faint lip gloss print that made his eyes roll all the way back, "Oh my fucking god—" he warbled through the spit in his mouth, "you're the fucking devil, I swear."
You smiled and dragged the tip of your tongue all over his shaft before digging into the drooling slit, exactly how he'd imagined it. Jake felt like he was floating, like he wasn't in control of his own body. The physical pleasure was one thing but the gratification of his fantasies coming to fruition was something else entirely.
"Nuh-uh," you pouted, "Heeseung tells me I'm an angel all the time."
Jake thought he would have a more visceral reaction at the mention of your boyfriend, whose imminent presence should scare the fuck out of him, but he simply didn't. His moral code had an expiry date, which was today, though it was arguably never quite there. He could turn blue justifying to himself that he was cornered, that he just loved you and since when was love a crime. At the very least, he felt some remorse about letting you put your mouth on his cock, unlike Jay and Sunghoon.
"Feels so fucking good—" he panted with a hand threaded in your hair. Your lips were too soft, your mouth too warm and you were slobbering all over his cock like you were starving for it. He needed to be inside you stat and if he was lucky he could fill you up before your boyfriend returned.
Jake smoothed a hand through your hair before forcing you down, surprising both you and himself with the forcefulness. Despite fantasizing about it constantly, this was the first time he was ever rough with you. Though taken aback, you welcomed his manhandling with a sweet little grin, letting him hover over you as he so wished. Jake took a second to marvel at your pliant form underneath him, committing it to memory because this could very well be his last day on Earth. He ran his fingers along the slope of your tits, pushing past the bunched up fabric of your camisole to graze smooth planes of your parted thighs. He had to stop himself from moaning at the sight of your pussy still covered by those flimsy shorts, at the large wet patch that had turned the material transparent; maybe you didn't even have panties on under there. It was right then that he suddenly noticed the absence of your necklace, the physical representation of Heeseung's claim on you.
"Your necklace—" Jake ghosted his fingers over your sternum where the prized piece of jewelry usually resided, "where'd it go?"
You looked surprised that he even realized—you must not have noticed his constant gawking at your tits then. In lieu of a response, you pulled him closer by the hem of his shirt, close enough that he nearly had you folded in half. Maybe you'd finally decided to be honest with yourself and got rid of that pesky thing. Maybe Jake had miscalculated the events and you would be the one to ditch your boyfriend instead, not that it would absolve you of any blame but at least you would be in control of the situation.
When you slipped your hands under his shirt and shamelessly felt his body up, he thought perhaps his desire for you wasn't so one-sided after all. That was the last push he needed to finally sealed his lips over yours, moaning desperately as the months-long ache left his body. All his nerves were on fire, arousal thick in his system, suffocating him from the inside. His eyes were bleary when he reluctantly pulled away for a breather lest he passed the fuck out from wanting you too much. He pulled your ruined shorts to the side and couldn't hold back a feral groan—you were so goddamn wet he could probably slide right in. Perhaps Sunghoon was right to call you easy.
He slapped his length against your swollen clit, smiling when your hips jumped and your ankles naturally settled on his shoulders. If only you would hurry up and get rid of your boyfriend so Jake could fold you in half like this everyday; he'd fuck you until your body was molded to his and the only thing you knew was him.
"It's right here—" you crooned, interrupting Jake just as he was lining himself up to your hole.
"Huh?" he furrowed his eyebrows, his brain fuzzy with the need to be buried inside you.
Your lips corner were slightly upturned as mischief colored your face, "My necklace. Weren't you curious?"
When Jake still couldn't understand, you sighed like you were disappointed then shook your left ankle, and the twinkling sound that followed sent heat coiling in his belly, the bad kind. Out the corner of his eyes, Jake caught it—the shimmer of silver wrapped around your ankle. It finally sunk in that your collar had turned into a fucking ankle monitor (it was an anklet), and that irritating H pendant was still there, dangling like a talisman. The smile on your face was priceless and all he wanted to do was wipe it clean off, his fingers hankering to grab you by the throat and really make it hurt. Instead, he decided to punish you by thrusting inside you in one go, relishing in the way your face twisted in pain before quickly giving way to bliss.
All his noises were let loose, wanton and thick with the desperation of a starving animal finally sinking its teeth into fresh meat. Jake had an inkling your pussy was magic with how you had all these men wrapped around your finger, but experiencing it for himself was a different story. You were so tight around his cock that he felt lightheaded, warm and squishy and so wet that his own pelvis was shiny. He pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back in, again and again, each time rougher than the last. Jake should feel a little bad for treating you so roughly but could you really blame him, he was short on time after all.
"Isn't it so—" you tried to talk through your shaking, "Isn't it so cute?" Your smile was wobbly from the pleasure but still so vexing as you gestured to the anklet that Jake just managed to ignore.
Honest to god, Jake was beyond pissed that you kept reminding him of the man that you rightfully belonged to, reminding him that he should feel guilty. He suddenly understood why Sunghoon bit you that one time. But he tuned out all the voices that told him to do the same thing and just kissed his teeth, "Yeah, it suits you."
Giggling in agreement, you made grabby hands at him for a kiss, which he happily obliged. The weight of your softer body underneath his was floaty and grounding all at once. He pressed harder into you, making sure you could feel his cock in your throat, and rutted his hips frantically.
"Hmm! Fuck, I—" you hummed into his open mouth as your eyes kept threatening to close. You dug your fingers into his back and blubbered, "—love him. I love Heeseung so much!"
Jake felt scorching heat up his spine as he, unthinking, bit down on your bottom lip, hard enough that you wailed and tensed up. He could deal with a little bit of name dropping here and there but that was too far; he figured it had to be some sort of fetish but he could not stomach you professing your love for another man while he was stuffing you to the brim. You even clawed at him in retaliation for the bite.
"You're sick," he panted from exertion and sheer rage.
"You like it, no?" you tried to sound smug but he could only find you cute as you were so clearly close to cumming. To help you out, he furiously started circling your clit and reveled in the way you immediately clamped down hard on his cock. It didn't take that much work to get you there at all, just a couple more swipes on your cute swollen clit and you were coating his cock with your sticky release, moaning so loud that he couldn't hear the click at the door. Jake didn't falter his pace, feeling all triumphant that the fucked up, lewd face you were making was all for him this time, and when your anklet pendant rattle in his ears from all your shaking, it didn't sound all that grating anymore.
He kissed your temple, as if praising you for a job well done, and when he pulled away to look at your face—messy but still so beautiful—he didn't know why there was this nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Then the front door swung open, nothing dramatic, before it was slammed shut so heavily that the walls could have split open.
"What. the. fuck."
Jake could not scramble away from your body any faster.
Heeseung was standing stock still. The plastic bag in his hand toppled to the floor with a loud thump. His mouth was just slightly agape like he was having trouble computing the scene before him. Slowly, skin-crawlingly slowly, he walked towards the couch, his face unreadable.
In that moment, Jake prayed to any and all gods that would listen for a disaster to strike, anything to get him out of this. He had just a second to tuck his erection back into his pants, affording himself a tiny bit of dignity unlike you, still spread apart with your clothes askew and dampened.
Jake's ears was ringing as he slowly felt his throat tighten up. The room was so quiet he swore he could hear Heeseung swallow.
"Was this what you wanted to tell me?" Heeseung towered over both you and him, his tone flat despite the scowl on his face.
This was the worst day in Jake's life, no doubt about it. He opened his mouth but no words would come out, only a stuttered breath.
"Did you not hear me?" Heeseung growled as his face twisted into something truly terrifying, and in a split second, bent down to grab Jake by his collar, jostling him violently, "Was this what you wanted to tell me? That you've been fucking my girl?"
"No, please! I swear it's not—" Jake's hands trembled, frantically trying to get Heeseung to loosen his grip. In all their years of friendship, never once did Heeseung get like this. He was always calm, at most a little smug, but right then, he looked like he wanted to beat Jake with a hammer.
Clearly the frantic explanations were the wrong way to go because Heeseung got even more agitated, if that was possible. His eyes were narrowed into slits as he gritted, "Cut the fucking bullshit."
"Heeseung, please—" you tried to interject meekly to no avail.
"Shut up!" your boyfriend snarled at you with more hostility than Jake thought was possible, "I'll deal with you later."
Heeseung spared a second to take in your crumpled form on the couch, your top still pulled down, shorts still wet, and clicked his tongue. Once he glared back, Jake fully thought all his teeth would be knocked out only for Heeseung to drop him back onto the couch.
"How long?"
"I haven't been—it's the first time, I swear!"
"Hm."
Jake could feel his body lock up as he began hyperventilating. He was not going to cry in front of you and your boyfriend after he just caught you both fucking on the couch. He was not going to sit there and bawl his eyes out like a fucking loser while his two best friends get off scot free despite having done worse things with you. It was just so unfair how things had unfolded, especially since he came here with good intentions.
But that was exactly what he did. It began with just a soft sniffle that he really tried to reel in, but then a wet sob forced its way out his throat. All of the courage he built up over those weeks, all his mental turmoil was for nothing. The shame was so heavy he could only stare at his balled up hands until tears cloud his vision. He bit the inside of his cheeks to keep the sounds in but it couldn't be helped that he was unfortunately the loudest and ugliest crier in the world. Jake wished the ground would just swallow him up.
"Oh my god—" you flubbed, something he could barely make out through the tears, "Oh my god. Are you crying?"
For some reason Heeseung looked shocked too, like the tears came out of left field. Jake figured it wasn't cool to commit a misdeed and then act like the victim, but he couldn't control how his body respond. Nonetheless, he tried to explain himself because if he was going down, Jay and Sunghoon had to go with him.
"It's not—it's not just me," he tried his best though his voice was distorted by the sobs wracking through his body, still avoiding eye contact, "Jay and Sunghoon. They did it too!"
"Oh, I know."
Jake snapped his head up fast enough to give himself whiplash. Heeseung's lips were curled up in something akin to amusement. Jake was really struggling to find the humor in all this but what the fuck did he know. Maybe he deserved to be the laughing stock.
"Heeseung!" it was your turn to guffaw. There was an attempt to sound apologetic but the mirth leaked through anyway, "You made him cry!"
"Oh, my fucking bad." Heeseung was full on smiling, his hands thrown up in mock offense.
What was so funny. Jake was absolutely not following though the confusion did help his crying die down. He did accept the tissues that Heeseung haphazardly shoved into his hands. Now where the hell did those come from.
"Sorry," you scooted over to his side gingerly. For some fucking reason, you still haven't made yourself decent. When you got a good look at his face, you had to hold back a laugh, "just wanted to spook you a little. We didn't mean to make you cry."
"Huh?" Jake rubbed his eyes and dabbed his face dry. Was this another test. Were there hidden cameras.
He flinched just a bit when Heeseung plopped down next to you. That punch could still arrive any second. He watched cautiously as your boyfriend kissed you lovingly like he usually did and apologized for yelling at you. He flinched again when Heeseung glanced at him though his eyes were void of the prior animosity.
"We had a bet to see which one of you would fold first," he explained, lips still pressed to your hair.
"I lost!" you sighed and deflated dramatically.
"Honestly," Heeseung snorted, delighted by your misery, before he once again directed his gaze at Jake, "I'm shocked you held out this long." He resumed kissing your face like he didn't just called Jake a whore to his face.
Jake wrinkled his nose. He just got fucking played again. Though he was admittedly more concerned that you both perceived him to be some horny pervert who could not keep it in his pants. He reckoned he had the right to feel a little wronged.
"What the hell is wrong with you two?" He grimaced, then turned to address your boyfriend specifically, trying to mince his words in case he changed his mind about that punch, "Are you like… a cuck, or something?"
"Look who's talking." Heeseung arched a neat brow and Jake clamped his mouth shut.
He practically froze as Heeseung proceeded to lick into your mouth and feel you up like he wasn't in the room. Why the fuck did this keep happening to him? He wanted to scream and rip his own throat out.
"So sensitive," Heeseung remarked after pulling your shorts to the side for an inspection and try as he might, Jake could not tear his eyes away. Your boyfriend cooed into the give of your shoulder, "He made you cum?"
"Uh-huh," you smiled and looked Jake square in the eyes, "he was a good boy."
His ears burned hearing himself be referred to in such a way. To make matters worse, Heeseung guffawed it was the funniest thing in the world. Jake thought the stress he just went through would suck the depravity out of his system but he was still getting horny over you calling him a good boy while fucking yourself on your boyfriend's fingers. There was a split second where Jake could see the gears click into place inside Heeseung's head. Something fucked up was about to happen to him.
Heeseung started scissoring his fingers in earnest while grinding the heel of his palm against your clit, a winning combo apparently because you instantly thrashed in his hold. It was a differently kind of pleasure to watch you become putty in the hands of someone who knew exactly which button to press. Barely minutes later you were arching your back, hiccuping like you couldn't breathe and unlike you, Jake was still pent up and about to burst into flames.
"Cumming so fucking easy," Heeseung tutted almost disapprovingly as he pulled his fingers out of your sloppy cunt. Jake inhaled sharply at the way those long fingers gleamed, sticky like they were coated in syrup, "You're always making such a mess, baby."
Time seemed to stop when Heeseung beckoned with this tiny, unassuming smile on his face, head tilted just slightly, "Well?"
He presented those messy fingers like a treat and Jake's chest constricted when he realized what he was supposed to do. No further words were exchanged, only a moment of hesitation, before Jake was crawling forward, on all fours no less, before stopping to collect himself. This was fucking crazy. His whole body felt like a furnace, flushed and feverish. He dared to glance up at Heeseung's face and immediately regretted it. His smile had turned heartless, eyebrows raised expectantly.
Jake took the plunge. He parted his lips and fought the full body shudder as he took Heeseung's fingers into his mouth. The taste of you was like an aphrodisiac that activated all the horny neurons in Jake's brain and before he knew it, he was moaning around Heeseung's fingers like a deranged pervert. It was when you mewled, clearly affected by the sight before you that he thought this was worth something.
Heeseung's mouth formed a patronizing pout, "Oh, you are a good boy."
Whatever Jake thought was the lowest point in his life paled in comparison to this. This was rock bottom. Even worse, he fucking enjoyed it. He couldn't hide the stutter of his hips if he tried. At least both you and your boyfriend seemed to like him enough that it gave him the delusion to be a little audacious.
"Um, can I please—" he dared to beg, hoping that the patheticness would work in his favor.
"Nah. That's all you get."
Jake's face fell like he just got doused with a bucket of ice water, which made you giggle like the fiend that you were. Then Heeseung pushed, forcing Jake back onto the far corner of the couch before his expression took on a sour edge.
can you fic writers stop using ai generated images of the members? it's sooo off putting and immediately makes me want to block you even tho you write impeccably.
ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ heeseung x 𝒇 ! reader x jungwon.
after 7 minutes in heaven , you stuck so so close to heeseung , one thing lead to another and you wanted to find a room to continue what had happened . little did you know someone was following you into the room !
𓋰 MDNI pure smut 3some dom heeseung switch won sub reader reader gets overstimulated early voyerism masturbation (m) oral (f rec) p in v unprotected sex double penetration mlm kissing multiple orgams mean heeseung dirty talk objectification squirting slight nipple play spit and drool messy blanking out after sex bi hee + won they LOVEE to use your clit so much slight dubcon creampie 5411
pt 1 | pt 2
this is lowk a 2k special , still !!!!!!!!!!!! thank you guys so muchmuchcmuhc!!!!
as the party went on, you lingered around heeseung. sitting on his lap as the games went on, you could feel your dripping pussy leak on to him. you followed him around as he went to grab another straight red cup of tequilla.
you stoood by him, rocking back and forth on your fear as you watched him pouring the drink with a sharp precision. the rough of his hands slightly shaking as he set down the glass, before naturally coming to relax on your hips.
his free hand handed you a cup, dark eyes flickering towards yours in the orange light of the kitchen. a slow smirk played on his lips as he leaned in, voice a low rumble meant only for you over the bumping music. "you're making such a mess, you know." the hand on your waist was creeping down against the back of your bare thigh, a light touch sending a fresh pulse to your core. "we should… probably find a place to clean you up." he mumbled, words filled with promise as his finger slowly collected the slick between your folds.
you mindlessly let out a moan, grabbing his wrist and dragging him towards the furthest room you could find from the loud party. a soft shlicking sound escaping you with every step you took, mind too clouded to even realise heeseung was smirking at someone. that someone followed you both.
the room's door clicked shut, muffling the bass into something mumbled. your back met the cool wood, and heeseung's mouth met yours before you could even take a breath. his hands, the ones that teased you in the kitchen, now gripped your hips, hauling you up as if you weighed nothing, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist.
he carried you towards the bed in three long strides, falling with you in a tangle of limbs and frantic kissing. your world filled with his scent, his taste, and the rough drag of his shirt against your arms.
"so messy," he breathed against your neck, teeth grazing the pulse of your neck. one hand slid between you, his fingers finding your drenched pussy, collecting the previous cum he had inside of you, rubbing torturous circles against your clit.
you let out a sharp cry, lips bruised from biting. you arched into his touch, back lifting off the dabric as you fisted your hands in his hair.
through your clouded mind, you had heard it. not the party, but another sound. the soft, delicate turn of the doorknob.
a small sliver of light from the hallway cut across the room, before it widening. yet, heeseung didn't stop. if anything, his fingers became faster and more possessive, his body covering yours, as a low grow vibrated in his chest.
yet, his head turned, just slightly, and in the dim light of the doorway, you could see the person. you could see heeseung smirk at him, one slightly dark.
"took you long enough," heeseung whisteled, his voice thick and heavy, doused with arousal and a type of amusement.
standing in the doorway, his silhouette highlighted by the hall, was jungwon. one who fumed with jealousy, who almost busted down the door when he heard you guys in the closet, who saw heeseung's cum leaking down your thighs when no one else did. one who is currently standing in the door way with a raging boner.
a slow huff filled his face as he looked at the scene infront of him: you pinned down onto the bed under heeseung, skirt flipped up and face dishevelled and breathless, all while heeseung's rough fingers rubbed your clit in was you couldn't.
"long enough?" he gritted, taking a step in and closing the door with a quiet, but click sound. no one could stop you three now.
heeseung groaned with rolling eyes, finally pulling back his fingers from your hard clit, bringing them to his mouth, eyes locked on yours as he tasted you. "could've came into the closet when we fucked." he laughed, turning around to glare at jungwon.
he took another long stride into the room, movements deliberate, as proof his own arousal was impossible to ignore. he wasn't looking at heeseung, but looking at you. the smear on your leg, the way your chest rose and fell, the slight glisten of your slick on the bed.
"and join you? puh-lease. rather have that pussy for myself." he groaned, palming his pants as he shot a glare at heeseung, talking about you as if you weren't even there.
"like you could make her squirt." he teased, turning around so his fingers could shower in your wetness, rubbing circles once again.
jungwon's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching against his skin. the deliberate taunt in heeseung's voice and touch had provoked him. he never looked away from you, his gaze hot and scorching. hand moving up and down his clothed pants.
"you think this is about you?" jungwon's voice was rough, as he took another step the space between him and the bed shrinking. his attention was on heeseung's taunts and mocks, atleast not directly. yet it was on you, on your wet pussy, on your relentless breaths, on the mess against the bed of some random person's house.
he let out a groan at his touch, as he watched heeseungs relentless fingers. the fuel in his eyes burning, before he gave in. kneeling on the bed, between your legs. pushing away heeseung's fingers out of raw jealousy and need.
"jungwon—" you gasped, squealing as soon as you felt the heat of his mouth against your cunt. he didn't answer, nor did he look up. he just ate you like it was the best thing he had ever tasted in his life.
where heeseung touch had been playful and jungwon's was the opposite, one claiming and possessive. his mouth was desperate and focused, like he had been waiting to have a taste for years. his hands gripped your thighs, just hard enough to bruise, pinning you to the mattress.
in his mind, this wasn't just for pleasure, but to erase any memory of heeseung. any touch that wasn't his.
you let out a moan as you felt his teeth graze against your clit, hips bucking against his face as your fists tightened in the bedsheets. his fingers flexed against your thighs, eyelids half closed.
he let out a low, possessive sound, one that vibrated against your clit and ran straight to your mind. your mouth opening wide, without any sounds that would escape it. only just silent plea's and whines.
admist all of this, heeseung watched from his new position, leaning back against his elbows. his eyebrows raised as he watched how your back arched, how jungwon's tongue moved against you, how you rutted against his face and how jungwon's hips grinded against the bed.
there was amusement in his eyes, ones that glinted in the dim light. he'd been pushed aside, but was never dismissed. his hand slid from his abdomen, down to the pants he wore. his calloused fingers sneaking past the waistband of his sweats and boxers, thumb sliding over the slit of his cock with a shiver.
"see?" he laughed, voice shaking, his voice carried through the both of your ears. "told you he couldn't just watch— fuck. he had to get in here."
under jungwon's greedy, focused mouth, you were unravelling. your body twitching like a plea as his tongue flattened against your cunt. his grip was iron and possessive, one that made you even more wetter and hornier.
and heeseung's voice, fuck. it felt addicting, like he was the one eating you out instead.
you could feel more than jungwon's reaction, a low growl that vibrated directly into your cunt, a possessive answer to heeseung's taunts. he didn't stop; if anything, he sped up. two fingers slowly entering your hole, making you scream, as if to prove a point, to erase heeseung's touches.
but he could never be erased. the soft sounds of his own hand moving were ringing in your ear, pace matching the wet, frantic sounds jungwon was producing from you. his gaze was heavy, the thought of sharing you between both of them, it almost made you cum on the spot.
"look at him," heeseung panted, his own arousal thick in his voice. "can't stand not being the one making you melt. but he's just… warming you up for me, isn't he?"
with a groan, one muffled by your cunt, jungwon pulled back just enough, his chin glistening, eyes dark as they locked with heeseung's over the curve of your body.
"do you ever shut up?" jungwon snarled, voice ragged. his thumb pressed a relentless, perfect circle against your sensitive bud, one that made you jolt up. "all you can do is watch. and touch yourself like a pathetic—" he cut himself off with a sharp inhale as he watched you clench around nothing, chasing his mouth.
heeseung's laugh was breathless, groans escaping his lips as his hand slowed down. "i'm enjoying the show. but you're the one on your knees for her. so tell me, jungwon, whos really the one winning here."
jungwon snarlled at his words, his thumb's pace quickening by the second against your cunt, riled up by heeseung's words. "yeah? i am, i'm the one eating this delicious cunt of hers" jungwon replied.
the room felt hot all of a sudden, your body between them overwhelming to the point that a small bead drops formed on your forehead.
heeseung's hand, forgotten on himself, stilled entirely. his focus had narrowed in on the way jungwon's thumb moved, a maddening and practiced motion against your slick skin, and the desperate shallow rolls of both of your hips trying to chase an orgasm.
"delicious?" heeseung echoed, voice dropping into a low taunt. he had shifted closer, the mattress dipping slightly as he sat near jungwon. his knuckles brushed your inner thigh, the touch of a ghost compared to jungwon's. "you're describing her like shes a four-course meal, but that's because you're starving, aren't you? look at you, practically humping the mattress."
and it was true. jungwon's composure and ego were slowly fracturing. the previous jealous touches he'd use with his tongue were now gone, replaced by a raw urgency. his breath hitched each time you clenched, a visible tremor in his hand.
"shut… shut up," jungwon gritted out, lacking its previous fire and fight. his protest was swallowed, not by himself, but by heeseung. his index finger and thumb gripping jungwon's chin, and their lips crashed against each other.
jungwon let out a startled noise, which was muffled against heeseung's plump lips, the kiss wasn't gentle, but sloppy. their tongues moved in sync as jungwon closed his eyes, letting out a sound of arousal into heeseung's lips.
heeseung's other hand remained on your thigh, grounding a point of control as his mouth moved against jungwon's with a devouring intensity. he was tasting the desperation of you, but also jungwon, drinking the taste of his fractured ego. jungwon, for a split second, stilled, the shock holding him still. then, with a brown sound that was a mix of a moan and a groan, he broke. his free hand came up to clutch at the fabric of heeseung's shirt, not the push away, but to anchor himself as if he'd run away
the movement on your clit had stuttered, then changed. it was no longer jungwon's perfect rhythm. but had become something more of a subconscious echo of the kiss, a slow, deep circle, then a frantic press, then a pause as heeseung had bit at jungwon's lower lip.
heeseung pulled back, just enough to speak, lips glistening and breath mingling with jungwon's. his voice was a velvet rumble that vibrated the tense and hot air between the three of you in the guest bedroom.
"see?" he murmured, eyes locked with jungwon's dazed ones. "starving. just for her. for anything that feels like this." his knuckles traced higher agaisnt your thigh, an invasion of space with jungwon's touch. "you wanted to prove you can make her come? then do it—"
your lips turned into a pout at the sight of them. the lack of attention on you making you more needier and hornier (not to mention the sight of them making out next to you). you let out a loud whine, kicking your legs slightly to grab their full attention to you.
heeseung's smile vanished, completely cleared by your whine. the previous heat between him and jungwon all gone, replaced by a cold sharpness. he didn't look impressed; he looked annoyed.
"did i fucking say you could interrupt?" he asked, voice dropping, now sharp enough it could cut through paper. his grip against your thigh and jungwon's chin tightened as a warning. his eyes dark and devoided of warmth, slid from jungwon's dazed face to your pouting one.
"you're kicking, just like a spoiled brat who isn't getting her way." he released jungwon's face with a dismissive shove, making the younger boy rock back slightly, thumb removed from your clit making you whine louder.
in one swift motion, heeseung's hand came down against your bare pussy, not to caress it, but a sharp sting bloomed. the sound cracked through the air.
"want our attention? then earn it, be good." he leaned in, face so close you could feel the iciness radiating off of him. "you're a mess. jungwon's a wreck trying his best to please you, and you're pouting?"
he glanced at jungwon, lips curling into a smile. "look at her, this is what you've been starving for? a brat who can't even wait her turn?"
he shifted his weight, planting a knee firmly between your legs, own body physically pushing jungwon to sit behind him, asserting dominance over the space and your body. over the both of you. he didn't touch you with any sort of gentleness. his thumb pressed harshly against your clit, a brutal pressure meant to overwhelm and punish, not to arouse.
"you want to come? then do it. now. on my command. not with his pretty little touches. like this," he grounded the heel of his palm down, the motion devoid of any type of love, but of pure arousal and anger. "show me you can be good. show me you can take what you're given without throwing a tantrum. or… i'll stop everything, and you can spend the night remembering how to behave, while jungwon and i go find someone else."
the air left from your lungs as he finished his words. this wasn't just a competition or the attentino you wanted from before. this was just cruel. heeseung's knee was a metal bar between your thighs, his body a whole wall separating you from jungwon. the brutual pleasure of his thumb wasn't seeking your pleasure, rather it was demanding submission.
behind him, jungwon made a sharp, almost wounded sound. he blended into the shadows, witnessing the scene infront of you, one that practically came out of a porno. you could hear the heat of his body, hear the ragged breathing, soft squelching of his hand up and down his cock, but heeseung had blocked him from your eyesight, from touch.
the threat hung in the air, colder than the sweat on your skin. find someone else. the words didn't promise denial, but erasure. a replacement.
you let out a scared whimper, one raw. your hips tried to tear away from a punishing pressure, yet heeseung's weight pinned you down, making any escape impossible. tears of frustration prickled at your eyes.
"n-no, please," you choked out, the word breaking in your mouth. it wasn't directed at anyone, just a plea tossed into the heated air.
heeseung's eyebrows furrowed mockingly, lips going into a cooing pout. he leaned closer, breath fanning your cheek. "that's not an answer, baby. that's you begging. i dont want you to beg, i want you to listen." he increased the pressure, something deliberate and cruel that made you cry louder. "come. now. or this ends."
it was impossible, the pleasure had been coiling and building under jungwon's soft rubs. now it was just a storm of overstimulation and pain, your body jolting and tensing all at once.
jungwon's hand shot out from behind heeseung, wrapping his fingers around heeseung's wrists, not to pull him away, but to hold him, to make him slow down, drawing out your orgasm for longer. his voice was a shattered whisper against the back of heeseung's head. "hyung, she… she can't…. you're hurting her…"
heeseung didn't even glance back. "she can," he hummed, voice terrifyingly calm and aroused. "and she will. or she'll learn what happens when she wastes my time." his eyes bored into yours. "last chance. prove that you're worth the trouble, worth our cocks."
your vision blurred, sensation turning into a single point of focus, his fingers, the weight of his hand, the emptiness of his threat. it threw you over the edge.
with a final, shuddering gasp, your body, betrayed itsself. your body convulsed, it wasn't the sweet released you had hoped for, it wasn't like the one jungwon had tried to coax you to. it was a sharp, numbing release. one that sent a rip through you, back arching off the bed with a sob and tears rolling down your face. your oragsm flew from your pussy onto both heeseung and jungwon's hand on his wrist.
it left you trembling, thighs shaking against his grip. hot tears and sweat traced down your temple.
heeseung watched you with a precision like no other. slowly, deliberately, he had removed his hand. he didn't look satisfied, rather he looked like it wasn't enough.
"good," he murmured, words flat. he shifted his weight back, finally freeing you from his grip. only to sit behind you, bringing you up so you could sit on his lap, back flushed against his chest as you faced jungwon. "see? she just needed some of the right motivation." he nibbled your earlobe softly, eyes never leaving jungwons.
jungwon ran a hand through his hair, a glint of sweat catching his forehead as you saw his ruined state. hand still glistening from your slick, lips kiss-swollen, his eyes wide and dark in awe, frustration and relentless want.
"look at her," heeseung mocked, voice vibrating against your spine. his hand splayed over your stomach as the other bunched your skirt against your waist. "she's perfect like this, all sensitive and open. just for us. like the perfect fleshlight."
jungwon swallowed hard, adam's apple bopping up and down. his gaze traveled all over you, from your tear-streaked face, to your heaving chest, to the way your legs were spread open in heeseung's lap, waiting just for him.
"but watching her cum wasn't enough, was it?" heeseung continued, tone shifting from flat to something challenging. one of his hands slid down from your stomach, fingers tracing an idle, teasing pattern until he reached your flaps, spreading them open with two fingers to present you to jungwon, making you twitch with oversensitivity. "you got here close for me. but you didn't get to feel it, did you? you just got to watch it happen. just like a kid with his nose against the bakery window."
his eyes watched jungwon's own, how jungwon wasn't looking at heeseung, but at your glistening pussy. how jungwon's jaw had tightened, his earlier submission flickering away with a more competitive jealousy once again.
"fuck you," jungwon muttered, unbluckling his pants, allowing them to hit to the ground, revealing his boxers and the wet stain against them. "really, heeseung, trying to provoke me?" he laughed, slipping his hand to push down the waistband of his boxers, revealing his leaking cock. it looked more girthier than heeseung's thats for sure.
heeseung's lips curled into a slow, triumphant smile at jungwon's words. the insult, it was exactly what he wanted. the flicker of submission now gone, replaced and burnt away by something more hotter and violent.
"provoke you?" heeseung echoed, voice a husky murmur against your temple. fingers still holding you open, giving a deliberate, subtle press against your hole, a silent reminder of his control. "i'm just stating facts. look at you, already leaking for her. you've been hard this whole time, from the circle, to eating her out, to watching me finish her, but getting nothing for yourself. it's honestly pathetic."
he shifted you slightly in his lap, angling your hips upward, making jungwon's gaze even more explicit. or maybe it was so that jungwon could put his dick in you faster. "but you're right. talking is cheap." his eyes dropped to jungwon's leaking cock, a flicker of something unreadable, acknowledgement maybe? or maybe his own arousal, passed through his gaze. "so stop complaining, and do something about it. unless you'd rather just stand there and prove my point, wonnie."
the challenge hung in the air, the nickname made jungwon hitch. he wasn't just giving premission, but a dare. something to try and insult jungwon, pressuring him. heeseung's arms had loosened from your waist, grabbing your thighs to spread you even wider for jungwon.
and jungwon didn't wait. he leaned in, landing a kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself as he slowly guided his cock to your fluttering heat. a groan and moan escaping both of you. the sound that tore from jungwon was pure relief, a deep shuddering groan that vibrated against your lips as he finally sank into you.
heeseung's hands on your thighs were iron clamps, spreading you open, making the fit more painful and burning, more exposing. you were displayed just for jungwon, and even heeseung as he watch jungwon sink into you.
jungwon broke the kiss, forehead dropping to yours as his breaths became hot puffs. his compusre einterly gone, now turning into millions of pieces of primal want and need. his hips began to move, not with the frantic shallow rolls, like his tongue did, but with deep, possessive thrusts, as if trying to reclaim and forget heeseung was even there.
"s—see?" jungwon gritted out, words meant for heeseung, though his glazed eyes were locked onto the part where you both connected. "i can… i can make her feel.. feel it." his claims were proven by each punctuated deep thrusts that stole air from your lungs, drawing a broken and high sound from your throat.
heeseung's eyes narrowed as he watched, his own breath hot and steady against the side of your neck, expression was one of intense satisfaction. he had orchestrated this, he knew jungwon liked you as well, he knew jungwon was most likely fisting his cock outside the closet, he knew jungwon was watching you both in the kitchen. his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, not just holding you open, but guiding the angle for jungwon.
"mhm, prove it." heeseung murmured, voice dark. his lips brushed your pulse point. "don't just thrust. make her beg for it. make her forget anyone else had ever touched her." he was pouring gasoline on the fire of jungwon's jealousy.
jungwon's eyes fluttered close for a second before he felt a muscle tick in his jaw. once they opened, the hunger in his eyes was terrigying and intense. he captured your lips once again, kiss messy and consuming, swallowing every singly one of your whimpers. his pace doubled its efforts, the deep, strokes giving way to a faster more desperate rhythm.
everytime he thrusted into you, you bounced into heeseung's lap, feeling his boner against your ass. you could feel how he wanted twitch, how he wanted to fuck you as much jungwon did.
his hands travelled from your thighs to underneath your shirt, pushing down your bra to pinch your nipples, twisting them softly. your eyes shot open with a loud, desperate moan.
"f—fuc—" you muffled against heeseung's lips, tears once again returning and falling down your cheeks. you could feel your orgasm approaching at the feeling, only to cum as jungwon landed one particularly hard thrust that hit your cervix.
your back arched away from heeseung's chest, ass grinding backwards against his cock, a loud grunt escaped heeseung's lips. and that was his final straw, he needed to be inside you now. his hands quickly let go of your perked nipples, and slipped down the pants he wore along with his boxers, his cock hitting the bottom of your ass and pussy.
"hope you're ready," he grunted, his mushroomy tip catching your hole, pushing up slowly. jungwon's hips slowed down, but never faltered, allowing heeseung to fill you up along side him.
"nonono—" you groaned, eyes widening as you could feel your hole and walls get stretched. and it stung, the feeling almost making you feel too full. it was too much, you swore you were going to rip into two. the world narrowed into a hot point of overwhelming sensation.
jungwon stilled at your words, breatch catching in a sharp gasp as he felt heeseung pressing up into the shared tight space. a deep graon was torn from his throat, a sound of pure intensity.
heeseung's own control shattered at the feeling of your tight, gummy walls. his forehead dropped to your shoulders, as he let out a string of low, filthy curses from his lips as he sank in fully, your bottom finally pressing against his lap and, by extension, against jungwon's own girth.
"fuck," heeseung breathed out, the word shuddering through his whole body. he stayed there for a long moment, letting you — both of you — adjust to the impossible stretch. his hands clamped on your hips, his knuckles white.
"look at her, won." he gritted out a laugh, his voice rough against your shoulder, he forced his head up, eyes locking in with jungwon's own possessive yet clouded gaze. jungwon looked wrecked and possessed, he could feel everything. how your walls twitched, heeseung's veins on his cock, the way his own cock twitched, everything. "feel that? that's me. in her. with you."
he began to move, not giving you anytime to breath, it wasn't a frantic pace, but a slow roll of his hips. a deep, claiming piston that shifted you against jungwon with every single thrust. the friction was everywhere, a chain reaction of pleasurable pain that coiled in your tight belly.
"fuck, n…now," heeseung stuttered, his voice broken, as he set into a brutal, inescapable rhythm. "you move— with me."
jungwon's breath hitched, and nodded. a broken, soft moan escaped him as he met heeseung's upward thrusts with a inward rock of his own hips. the synchronization clumsy at first, before it set into a perfect rhythm built from desperation. heeseung filled you as jungwon pulled out to the tip, and thrusted in as heeseung pushed out as much as he could. repeat.
the sound was obscene, the sounds of slick, wet slide, the slap of skin, heeseung's grunts and jungwon's groans, mixed with your own cries and whimpers, torn between pleasure and the feeling of being split in half.
heeseung's hand was everywhere, gripping your hips, palming your breasts, teasing your nipples with a flick of his fingers, threading into your hair to push your head sideways, teeth biting and nibbling against your skin.
as jungwon's lips met yours, the kiss wet and messy with spit dripping down both your chins. a hand snuck down to your gummy, hard clit, rubbing harsh up and down motions, before pressing against your stomach, which had two clear bulges of the both of them. how their thrusts moved against your walls and skin.
"you can take it," he snarled against your neck, thrusts growing deeper and more demanding. "you take both of us. every inch." his eyes dark and feral, found jungwon's own hungry eyes. "and you… you feel me. everywhere. remember this, remember who let you have this."
you could feel everything, the shift of pressure in you, the filling stretch that was borderline too much, the twitch of their cocks. the distinct shape and rhythm of them, heeseungs deeper measured rolls and jungwon's quicker, sharper thrusts felt too much. it became an overwhelming friction that had you sobbing into jungwon's mouth.
heeseung's hand slid from your hair, down your throat with a squeeze, coming to rest beside jungwon's on your lower stomach. his fingers pressed in next to jungwon, and you both could feel it. the impossible, undeniable press of them moving inside you, faint outline of their cocks present beneath your skin.
"you feel that?" heeseung growled, voice ragged, his lips were against the shell of your ear, but his words werent for you, but jungwon. "thats what you wanted, right? to be here, to be fucked?"
jungwon broke the kiss with a shattered gasp, his forehead falling to the opposite shoulders of heeseungs. his hips stuttered, his control long gone as he stared down at where their hands met on the plane of your belly.
"i…i can't—" he choked out, not in a protest, but in a slight surrender.
"you can," heeseung insisted, own breath coming in a harsh wind. he tightened his arm around you, thrusts becoming powerful and guiding, setting a pace that jungwon was forced to follow. "you will. together with me. for her."
with a small nod, jungwon let out a quiet sound that was mixed with a sob and a moan as he continued to thrust, giving it his all to match with heeseung's own speed. eyes watering as he felt heeseung twitch against him.
jungwons had travelled back to your over stimulated clit, letting out harsh circles, pressure intense. heeseung's hips stuttered, a signal he was going to cum any minute, and so were you. with three final sharp thrusts, the both of them came deep into you.
a groan escaped their lips, as you could feel the hot seed shoot deep into you, making you whine. jungwon's fingers never faltered against your clit, until you felt it. your eyes shot open and mouth hung open as saliva trickled down. your pussy spasmed against his fingers, and harsh stream of liquid had shot out of you, right onto both of their cocks which softened inside of you.
"f—fuck—! oh… god…" you wailed, the sound raw and voice cracking. the squirt seemed endless, a release that left your body convulsing and trembling.
for a long moment, the only sound of the room was ragged breathing, tree different ones that clashed and merged in the humid air. the scent of sex, salt and sweat was over powering.
heeseung was the first to move, his arms, which had been holding your back against him, loosened to a more softer embrace. he let out a slow, breathless laugh against your neck, the sound rich with awe and satisfaction.
"look at that, baby." he murmured, his voice hoarse. his eyes heavy-lidded, dropped to where you all were still connected, the evidence of your orgam's leaking onto the bed. "you've covered us in your, sweetheart."
jungwon, still slumped against you, his froehead on your shoulder, let out a shaky exhale. his fingers finally stilling, soaked from yout squirt, pulled away as he looekd down, his own eyeslid heavy. the competitve fire, now gone and replaced by a daze. he looked up from the mess to your wrecked and fucked-out face, and slowl, a wrecked smile touched his swollen, plump lips.
"hyung," he breathed out, the words full of awe, as his eyes were glued on your face, before glancing up at heeseung.
heeseung's hand came up, brushing a fresh tear away from your check. "i know," he said softly, answering jungwon. his eyes met jungwon's over your shoulder, a silent communication between the two of them. before pulling out softly, jungwon following.
a large seep of cum had escaped your pussy, drooling down onto the bed as you lay there, body twitching occasionally, making the both of them coo at the sight.
"so cute," jungwon muttered, grabbing the boxers that he had left on the floor and slid them up your legs, your thighs twitched at the fabric against your clit before your eyes had closed, mind blank and dark.
heeseung let out a soft laugh, before turning to jungwon and kissing his lips, this time more softer and more tender than the first time.
"lets do this more often, wonnie." he murmured against his lips.
"yeah…"
｡ﾟ･ (>﹏<) ･ﾟ｡ @hoonsocks @gyuzies @ewstain @haruawya @strawberrykkk1 @nanilis @renwon @yvampyr n anyone else on that tag list….
𝙥airing: yang jungwon x fem! reader x park sunghoon.
𝙘ontent: established relationship, explicit mature content, porn without plot, mean doms! sungwon, double penetration, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, blow job, voyeurism, multiple rounds, begging, pussy eating+fingering, squirting, belly bulge, degrading+praising.
𝙬ord count: 4.4k.
part one | part two
Exactly ten minutes later, your ears faintly registered the sound of the door opening and closing, followed by someone dropping the keys into the small cute cat keys holder bowl your friends gifted you as a housewarming gift.
You weren't asleep even though it was close to one in the morning. How can you sleep when you knew what was coming? How can you sleep after reading what Sunghoon had texted Jungwon.
Anticipation coursed through your veins. Your heart rapidly beats against your ribcage. You couldn't help but feel nervous. During your relationship with Sunghoon and Jungwon, this will be your first time doing this with the both of them.
As much as they want to ruin you into oblivion, the two men didn't want to hurt you. God forbid how they will react if they were to find out you got hurt because of them.
You were laying on the bed, dressed in a simple, clean and fresh oversized shirt that belonged to Jungwon. You were able to smell his colgne lingering on it whenever you pulled the collar up to your nose. Sunghoon had stepped out of the bedroom when his phone rang off, much to his evident annoyance.
You heard two muffled voices—to which you assumed they were talking about something before it was silent again. And then, the door opened, showing Jungwon standing on the other end. He was dressed casually—a black hoodie with the hood pulled up, a pair of loose black sweatpants and a pair of thick, black-framed glasses rested on the bridge of his nose.
You pushed yourself up, the sheets falling due to the movement, showing off your neck covered in hickeys left behind by him and Sunghoon. His eyes darkened a shade, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he entered, not bothering to close the door. Jungwon stopped at the side of the bed, reaching out to clasp his fingers around your chin. You let him tilt your head to the left, allowing him to look at the masterpiece left behind.
He used his other hand to trace the hickeys, resulting in a body-length shudder as you trembled in his grasp. Jungwon noticed. Of course he does.
"Beautiful," he breathed out, sounding in awe. His pupils were already blown out, covered in nothing but lust.
"You look pretty like this. Covered in our marks. You belong to us, don't you?" He continued, angling your face to the front, forcing you to look at him.
You whimpered as you nodded your head, clenching down on nothing but thin air. You were seated on the bed with your legs folded by your side. Without the sheets, Jungwon's able to see the bitemarks scattered across your inner thighs, drawing a low groan from him.
"Looks like hyung had his fun with you. Surely you didn't forget about me, right?" He asked, voice dropping to a deceptively soft coo, like he's all sweet and soft when he's the opposite of that.
You swallowed. "No, I didn't."
At Jungwon's expectant eyebrow raised, you hurried to correct yourself. "No, I didn't, sir."
Your boyfriend made a pleased sound at your obedience. He shifted closer, slightly resting his thighs against the side of the mattress. He leaned forward a little, his shadow hovering over you as he tilted your head back while still maintaining eye contact. The air was tense and thick, practically crackling with tension threatening to snap. It's so thick that one could sliced it apart with a plastic knife.
"What are you waiting for? Get to work, baby. Don't keep me waiting."
You obeyed, scooting forward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You raised your hands, untying the knot of his sweatpants as the two long, white strings fell limp, resting against his sweatpants. The tent was visible, a sign of his hardened cock waiting for you. You hooked your fingers into the hem of his sweatpants only, not including his boxers and slowly tugged it down.
Jungwon's hand moved up, tangling his fingers in your hair. You could feel the smooth, cool metal surfaces of his rings against your scalp. You spared him one final, fleeting glance—noting his dark eyes clouded with lust as you leaned forward to plant the lightest kiss on the clothed tip. Your boyfriend's thighs instinctively twitched, blunt nails digging into your scalp at your action.
You made no move to pull his boxers down, leaving it on as you mouthed along the outline of his cock via the fabric of his underwear, purposely collecting more saliva in your mouth so it will drip down, leaving a path behind.
You couldn't help but snicker at the reactions you're getting out of Jungwon—how he clenched his jaw, how he was clearly holding back his restraint to pounce on you and how he wanted to shove you back onto the bed to fuck your mouth with his cock, making you swallow his cum.
"Stop teasing," he grunted, already sounding wrecked even though you haven't done much yet. Just thinking about the effect you have on him made you whined.
With one simple, quick motion, his boxers fell to the floor as it pooled around his legs, joining his sweatpants in meeting the same fate. His cock instantly sprung free from its restraints, the tip nearly slapping you right in the face. Your mouth watered. You knew he's packing and in no way was he considered small.
It's long and thick, with veins protruding from all sides. The tip was already in an angry shade of red with precum oozing from it. You grabbed the base with your left hand, your fingers barely touching and you whimpered, wanting to feel him deep inside you. Jungwon gave a light tug on your hair, canting his hips towards you and you quickly opened your mouth, tongue flattening as you let him glide his cock against your lips, like he's applying lipstick.
You let him pushed his cock into your mouth, wrapping your lips around just the tip as you sucked on it, like a baby sucking on a pacifier. Jungwon's breath audibly hitched in his throat, nails now scratching against your scalp, struggling to control himself. His breathing grew uneven when you took more of him, hollowing your cheeks for better suction.
"Fuck," he sworn as you ran your tongue along the veins on the side. You used the same hand that was holding the base to touch the areas you couldn't reach, occasionally digging your nails into his cock, savoring the melodic sounds he let out.
"So good for me. My perfect cockslut, aren't you?" He panted, starting to rock his hips into your mouth and you let him set the pace, going still while he used you to his heart's content.
You made a choked, muffled sound, the vibrations sending down his body, drawing a low groan from him. You weren't even aware your hips moved on its own as you grind down, rubbing your bare, swollen and sensitive pussy against the sheets. Jungwon noticed and when he did, he barked out a low, dark laugh.
He yanked on your hair, forcing your head up with his cock still in your mouth, his hips never stopped moving. He sneered at your watery, wide and pleading eyes. Although, you weren't sure what you were begging for.
"Look at you, rutting against the sheets like the desperate whore you are. Was hyung not enough for you, hm? You still want more?" He commented.
You moaned, the vibrations eliciting a curse from him. Jungwon continued fucking into your mouth, his pants and moans gradually getting louder and louder. Fat, warm and salty tear droplets rolled down your cheeks.
He didn't warn you when he cum, simply shooting hot, thick and bitter cum down your throat. You swallowed all of it, like the good, loving girlfriend you are, watching with his head thrown back, revealing his neck and Adam's Apple.
"I can't believe you've started without me."
Both of you turned to the direction of the opened bedroom door, to see Sunghoon leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. It's clear he had been watching the entire time, judging from the evident bludge on the front of his sweatpants. Jungwon smirked at his words, pulling his cock out of your mouth with a soft "pop" sound. He didn't tuck himself back in, moving to sit on your left side.
You squeaked when Jungwon pulled you towards him, causing you to awkwardly land on his lap with your back pressed against his firm, solid chest. He hooked his strong, muscular legs over yours, forcing you to spread your legs. He pushed the shirt up until your stomach, showing off your glistening, needy pussy and the wet stains on the sheets.
Sunghoon whistled, the sound low and appreciative with his eyes locked on the sinful sight before him. He pushed himself off the door frame, entering the room as he sat on your right side, his clothed knee brushing against yours. Your mind blanked out when you felt Jungwon's hand snaking down to your core resting between your legs, resulting in you squirming in his arms.
"Shh, baby. Don't hide from us, wanna hear you," Sunghoon cooed, cupping your chin, forcing you to face him.
You whimpered, nuzzling into his palm like a kitten wanting affection from its owner. Your legs twitched when Jungwon pushed two fingers into your gaping, stretched out pussy. There was no resistance, the glide was smooth and he's able to push his fingers in until he's knuckles-deep in you.
Sunghoon's eyes darted down, fingers still on your chin as he watched Jungwon stretching you open, moving his fingers in a scissors-like motion.
"Hyung, she's still tight even after you've stretched her open," he remarked, resting his chin on your left shoulder as he looked down at the mess between your legs.
Sunghoon hummed, absentmindedly drawing lines on your right cheek with his thumb while watching. "Guess that means you need to prep her more. Think she can take it?"
It's unfair, with how they were talking like it's a regular conversation, acting like you weren't here, like you were invisible. But yet, it feels good, in a sick and condescending way. You couldn't speak, eyes rolling up to the back of your head, back arching off Jungwon's chest when he curled his fingers, brushing against that spongy spot.
The bedroom was filled with the loud, lewd squelching sounds of your boyfriend fingering your pussy, spreading the mixture of you and Sunghoon's cum around your pussy. Jungwon hummed, actually thinking about it before giving his answer, even when he's knuckles-deep in you.
"Yeah, she can. I know she can, right baby?" Jungwon asked, directing the question to you and you only let out a pathetic mewl that earned amused chuckles from your two boyfriends.
"Poor princess. Already gone when we haven't even fuck her yet."
Sunghoon drawled, withdrawing his hand as he pulled his pants and boxers down in one go, freeing his cock. It slapped against his shirt, leaving stains of precum behind but he didn't care about the mess. You watched with half-lidded eyes as he began stroking himself to hardness, using his precum to spread it over his cock.
He smirked when he saw you staring shamelessly, leaning back with one hand placed on the bed behind him to support his weight.
"Yes baby, you want something?" He teased, slowly moving his large, pale hand up and down the length of his cock.
You wordlessly nodded, unable to find it in you to use your voice but Sunghoon wasn't pleased. He clicked his tongue, in lieu of a warning and you hurried to save yourself from the incoming doom you would face if you didn't obey him.
"P-Please," you begged, voice cracking.
"Please what? Use your words, baby," Sunghoon coaxed you.
"Mean. So mean," you sobbed, frustrated and aroused tears now freely running down your cheeks.
Jungwon chuckled behind you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he kissed every area of skin presented to him, not paying the two of you any mind while he continued to finger you, slowly pushing you to your climax. Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, mildly impressed with what you said and he laughed, the sound low and dark.
"Mean? Oh poor baby, you say that but you still let me let me do what I want with you," he paused, reaching out with his hand—the very same hand used to touch his own cock, to brush his thumb along your bottom lip, "if I'm really mean, we won't even be here."
You sniffled, attempting to take his thumb into your mouth but he dropped his hand, going back to stroking himself. It's nasty—with how you're about to reach your climax with Jungwon now whispering in a hushed tone, his words sweet and soft—a huge contrast to how he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace.
A series of angelic sounds endlessly spill from your lips, ranging from broken, breathless moans to whimpers to a few chanting of their names—be it Jungwon or Sunghoon's names. Your lips dropped open to a silent "O" shape. You felt the all-too familiar tightening sensation in your stomach, your legs quivering like fallen leaves as you rapidly reached your climax.
"Ngh, g-gonna c-cum-hah," you moaned, throwing your head back to rest it on Jungwon's right shoulder, your hands weakly grasping at his hands as he quickened his pace.
"Cum for us, baby, that's it," Jungwon cooed.
Your mind shattered. Your walls violently convulsed around his fingers, clamping and unclamping as he fingered you through your mind-breaking orgasm.
Hot, transparent liquid gushed out of your pussy, spraying everywhere without a care in the world. You ended up in an over-sensitive, trembling and flushed mess after your climax, body going pliant as you slumped against Jungwon's chest, heaving to catch your breath.
"Shit, she squirted. That's hot," Sunghoon groaned, eyelids fluttering shut when he's reaching his climax. You were so out of it that you didn't notice the glance shared between the two of them.
The next thing you knew, you were being pushed forward with Sunghoon grabbing onto your hair. He dragged you forward until your face was hovering over his cock. You weren't given a chance to regain your bearings, having to squeeze your eyes shut when he cum. Short, thick and white stripes of cum splattered on your face. Some landed on your cheeks. Some landed on your lips and some even managed to land on your hair.
It's a scene shot straight out of a pornographic movie. Your tongue darted out, licking up whatever cum you can reach and swallowed it, all the while locking eyes with Sunghoon. Your boyfriend muttered something under his breath, visibly affected by your action. He shot out his hands, grabbed you by your arms and hauled you towards him.
He crashed your lips together, easily sliding his tongue into your mouth. You heard the sheets rustling behind you followed by a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, drawing circles on your hips.
"If only you can see yourself, so good for us. Think you deserve a reward from us," Jungwon murmured, smirking into your skin at the way you shivered at his words.
◟‿୨୧‿◞ㅤ
As far as you were aware, approximately one hour had passed in a blink of an eye. One hour of both men having you in whatever positions available. Heck, you didn't even know you were this flexible, with how they had you bent forward or backward.
There was a moment when Jungwon had his head buried between your legs, eating your poor red, swollen and sensitive pussy while Sunghoon fucks your mouth. Another moment with Sunghoon fucking you at a frustratingly slow pace, making sure his cock kept hitting that spongy spot hidden between your walls.
At this rate, your voice was hoarse with how much you couldn't stop screaming, protesting or crying. You could barely register your own voice. Your eyes were swollen and puffy with how much tears you shed at your boyfriends' relentless torture. After what felt like centuries, they decided it was time to give you what you've been craving for since the very start.
You let them manhandled you, too exhausted to even lift a single finger but somehow still have the energy to beg for more and more, like you couldn't get enough of having their cocks buried deep inside you. You ended up straddling Jungwon's lap with him laying on the bed, head a few centimeters away from the edge of the bed while Sunghoon's behind you.
All of your clothes were long removed, scattered across the floor of the bedroom. With Jungwon guiding you, you slowly sank down on him, taking him inch by inch. You whimpered, scrunching your nose at the overwhelming pain as you took more of him until he was sheathed to the hilt.
With you on top of him, you sworn you could feel him hitting the back of your throat, hitting places where you thought it was impossible.
"W-Wait-"
You stammered, feeling Sunghoon pushing you down until your back was pushed into a delicious arch, your face awkwardly squished against Jungwon's neck. He kissed your forehead—the display of affection so sweet and intimate despite how you're about to be stuffed full with two cocks.
You bit down onto your bottom lip not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough for you to feel the pain. You could feel Sunghoon's cockhead breaching past your fat, puffy pussy lips.
You cried out, further burying your face in your boyfriend's neck, openly and wetly panting against his skin as Sunghoon continued pushing in. Into the very same hole that currently is holding Jungwon's cock captive.
You can feel your pussy being comically stretched so wide that you had to stifle the pained whimpers. It's a miracle that you didn't start bleeding out of nowhere. You dug your nails into Jungwon's broad shoulders, leaving indents behind as Sunghoon finally bottomed out.
"Oh my fucking god, c-cant-" You keen, feeling incredibly full. Full to the point there was a bulge on your stomach—right over where their cocks were deeply nestled in you.
"Holy shit, hyung, look," Jungwon breathed out, eyes focused on the bludge, showing off the faint outlines of their cocks seen via your stomach.
Sunghoon had to lean forward, the movement drawing moans from all of you, with his cock brushing against Jungwon's cock and sliding deeper into you. You sworn you could feel him kissing your cervix with how deep he is.
He looked over your shoulder to see Jungwon resting his hand against your stomach, his fingers spread out and when he saw the bulge, his eyes darkened a shade. Both of you felt his cock twitched, his fingers twitched from where it rested, resisting the tempting urge to pound into you from behind.
"So good for us, aren't you? Takin' us so well, like you're made for us," Sunghoon hummed, leaning back so he could kiss the sensitive skin under your left ear, giving a light nip to the shell of your ear, eliciting a soft whimper from you.
You pushed yourself up a little, hands resting on Jungwon's shoulders to support yourself as you moved your ass backward, unable to hold back the shameless, needy moan at the heavenly feeling of their cocks rubbing against your sensitive spot. Jungwon grunted, eyes flaring as he watched you setting the pace, slowly rocking back and forth while you ride him.
He moved his hands up, cupping both of your breasts as he kneaded them, like they were dough. He alternated between gentle squeezes and his thumbs flicking your nipples before he pressed down on them. The dual sensation of pleasure from both areas of your body drew a series of sinful sounds from you.
Your arms trembled. Jungwon leaned up to wrap his lips around your left hardened nipple, harshly sucking on it while twirling it with the tip of his tongue. He didn't leave your other nipple unattended, pinching and twisting it with his left hand.
"F-Fuck, s-stop," you weakly protested, squeezing your eyes shut when you feel Sunghoon starting to rock into you from behind.
The bedroom was now filled with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin along with your pleasured sounds filling in the empty spaces in between at every thrust. Jungwon didn't move, letting you take what you need from him while he continued giving attention to your chest. Sunghoon, on the other hand, reached out to turn your face towards him so he can kiss you while you continued riding Jungwon.
He eagerly swallowed your sounds, tongue sensually gliding against yours. Between the three of them, you were the first to reach your climax and at this rate, you have long lost track of how many times you've cum. It's to no one's surprise, considering how both of your boyfriend goes to the gym often to work on their stamina.
When you cum, it was painfully close to dry with your pussy only pathetically gushing out a few streaks of slick. It landed on both of you and Jungwon's stomachs. You outright sobbed when they continued fucking into you through your climax. To say your pussy was swollen would be an understatement, with how long they've been fucking you as they took turns, be it with their cocks or their mouths.
Sunghoon lowly chuckled into your ear. "Pussy so loose it can't even keep the cum in. Naughty girl."
At his words, he increased the pace, ruthlessly thrusting jackhammering into you, his heavy balls smacking against your asscheeks at every thrust. You couldn't breathed, not when you were sandwiched between them with no escape for you. You squirmed about in their grips but it was futile as their strength completely overwhelmed yours.
Both men eventually reached their climax, cumming in your loose and wide pussy, filling your womb full of their cum. Shivers ran down your spine when you can feel their cum trickling down the paths of your inner thighs. Only for you to scream as Sunghoon scooped them up with two fingers before pushing them back into your pussy.
He made a faux sweet coo at how you sniffled, body trembling whenever he moved his fingers inside you. "Aw, poor baby. Can't take it anymore? But we can't let it go to waste, can we?"
Thankfully, Jungwon came to your rescue. He detached his lips from your swollen with an audible "pop" sound, beyond abused nipple to whack Sunghoon on his shoulder.
"Enough, hyung. She's about to pass out if you continue," he chided, voice authoritative but gentle.
Sunghoon scoffed but obliged nonetheless, pulling his cum-stained fingers out of you, making you whined uncomfortably at the feeling of being pumped full of their cum. No matter how hard you clenched down, it's useless as more and more cum continued slipping out of your pussy. Both men slowly pulled their cocks out of you.
Jungwon shifted to lay you on the clean area of the bed—which wasn't much but it will have to do for now. Sunghoon, on the other hand, got out as he moved to start the aftercare routine for you. It's unfair with how you were thoroughly exhaused, with every ounce of strength wrung dry from your body but the same couldn't be applied to them. Curse them and their high stamina.
Jungwon rested his right hand on your cheek, thumb caressing the skin underneath your eye. His features softened at how your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned into his touch.
"You alright, baby? Does it hurt?" He asked softly.
You managed to shake your head lightly. "..I'm fine, I'm sore but it's fine. It was good."
He frowned and you can tell he wasn't convinced.
"No, really, I'm fine, Won. Just let me rest for a few days and I'll be back to normal," you reassured him.
Jungwon hummed, grabbing your hand to press a loving kiss on your palm. The action made your heart skipped a beat, very much like a high school girl whenever she's around her crush. Sunghoon reappeared shortly, now dressed as he held a bunch of towels and three plastic bottles of water. He handed one to Jungwon, who aided you in drinking the bottle, ensuring you were hydrated before downing his own bottle in one go.
"C'mon, up you go, princess," he said, carrying you in his arms bridal-style, chuckling at the startled squeak you let out as you clung onto him, even though you knew he won't drop you.
Jungwon carried you to the joint bathroom as he washed you from head to toe, not leaving any part of your body untouched. He even helped in getting the cum out of your pussy, much to your embarrassment despite the fact you've done this before. Thankfully, Jungwon knew better than to go again. If it was Sunghoon instead, boy you're never leaving the bathroom and the water bills will be incredibly high.
Both of you took turns washing one another, sharing a few giggles and some soft kisses. When you were done, you were feeling more refreshed and clean. Jungwon made you wear his clothes and seeing you in his clothes made Sunghoon cutely scowled when you stepped out.
"Hey, I changed the sheets and you're wearing Won's clothes instead of mine. Talk about betrayal," he complained, acting dramatic like the true dramatic king he is.
You rolled your eyes and because this is Jungwon, he decides to push it further by playfully sticking his tongue out at the older man while holding you close to him.
"You know you can't keep your hands to yourself if you're with her, hyung," he commented and Sunghoon had the audacity to look offended, even though he was right.
"What? I would never!" He exclaimed.
You rolled your eyes. "Alright, the two of you. Stop bickering and let's get some sleep. I'm tired and it's thanks to you."
Jungwon and Sunghoon snickered but they went silent when you shot them a warning look. If looks could kill, they would had died on the spot with how murderous you were. The three of you crawled into bed—with you in the middle, Sunghoon on your right and Jungwon embracing you from behind.
You rested your head on Sunghoon's chest, able to hear his steady, calming heartbeat, which acted like a melody to lull you to sleep. The last thing you heard and felt was the both of them whispering "I love you", followed by two light kisses on your head before you fell asleep, entering the land of dreams, lovingly held in the arms of your two beloved.
JAY knew exactly what he was— big, overwhelming, too much. And you, made of glass, too perfect to damage, too soft to push past its limit without leaving cracks behind. But some things aren't meant to stay perfect, aren't they? — In which Jay is far too huge for someone as delicate and small as you
content tags and warnings: jay x reader, jay is taller than reader and can be carried by him. explicit content (smut): SIZE KINK AGENDA HUHU, unprotected sex, standing sex erm but later on it's not, dubconish content, squirting, overstimulation, hung! jay. MDNI. WC: 2K
note: do not repost, share, or bring my stories to other platforms such as x or tiktok. please keep my stories within this space.
At first, Jay found himself deeply conflicted about taking things further with you.
Look at you—you were his baby girl.
He cared about you in a way that made him unusually cautious, almost overly aware of everything he did around you. There was a constant awareness in him whenever you were near, a sense that you weren’t someone he could treat carelessly or push too far without thinking about the consequences.
He was aware of the physical difference between you two, and more importantly, of how fragile you seemed in his presence when he stood too close or moved too quickly. You were small, delicate in a way that made him naturally slow down, it was like his presence alone carried too much weight for you to handle.
He knew exactly what he was.
Big, overwhelming, too much.
Oh, poor you, couldn’t even take his fingers without falling apart on him, your tight cunt clenching and resisting, your voice breaking into helpless cries, begging him to pull it out for just a second.
It really did feel like you were made of glass, something too perfect to damage, too soft to push past its limits without leaving cracks behind. Jay thought about holding back, about keeping things exactly where they were, untouched, safe.
But some things aren’t meant to stay perfect.
Some things are meant to be used, stretched, tested until they give.
“S-Slow down… p-please…” you whimper, your hands press flat against the wall, fingers splayed.
Oh, a perfect glass to ruin. Your back arches so perfectly in front of him, the curve of your body practically inviting him closer, the way your ass presses back without you even realizing it.
It took time to get you here.
A long fucking time.
“Love you,” he whispers against your ear, his lips brush over the sensitive curve of it, lingering there for a second before pressing a slow kiss just beneath. One of his hands settles around your waist, while the other guides himself down, his grip tight as he drags the thick length of his cock forward, letting the wide tip press and slide slowly against your slick labia.
A soft, breathy moan slips out of you before you can stop it, you glance back over your shoulder, your eyes meeting his for a brief second before you lean in just enough to catch his lips in a kiss that’s clumsy but needy.
Your neck strains with the angle, your smaller frame struggling to keep up with his height, but you don’t pull away.
His hips start to move in slow motions, dragging himself along your folds, teasing your clit with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. The friction sends heat rushing through your body, building steadily, making your thighs tense as you try to hold yourself together.
You shift closer without thinking, your back pressing fully against his chest now, and the difference between you becomes even more obvious as both of his arms wrap around you, caging you in, holding you exactly where he wants you.
Your mind feels scattered, spinning in uneven circles, thoughts tripping over each other as anticipation and nerves twist together in your stomach.
You can take it.
You have to.
“Ya ready?”
“Hm…” you nod faintly as you break the kiss, your head dropping against his chest.
The position is awkward for him, his knees bending slightly to line himself up with you, his grip tightening just a bit around your waist as the thick tip of his cock presses against your entrance, nudging, testing, before slowly starting to push inside.
Fuck!
Both of you react at the same time, your mouths parting as an overwhelming sensation pulls a broken whimper from your throat, your body tensing around him as if trying to resist what it doesn’t know how to take.
“Shhh,” he murmurs quickly, his lips move over your ear again, then down to your neck, pressing slow comforting kisses there.
“Hurts…” you whine softly, your fingers tightening against his arms where they’re wrapped around you.
“I know, baby… just—just a little bit more, hmm?” Jay’s voice comes out strained and clearly slipping his control as he tries to keep his pace slow, his forehead and neck tense with effort while he eases forward in small, careful increments, stopping each time he feels you tighten around him.
But the restraint he’s holding onto is wearing thin, his focus breaking in waves as your warmth and closeness start to undo him piece by piece.
You nod weakly against him, lips parting as you try to steady yourself, “M’kay…” the words slurring a little, not quite clear but obedient in a ways that is trying to be good for him even as your body struggles to adjust.
Your hand stays on his arm bracing yourself as he adjusts your position, his feet nudging yours, guiding your legs wider so he can ease in further.
His mouth is trailing messy, lingering kisses along your shoulder and up your neck, so gentle at first then nibbling the skin, until it turn rougher, biting your neck that made your whole body shiver every time he would push his hips deeper.
Why won’t you let him in?
Each attempt is the same unsteady pattern, a careful push forward followed by a pause, then a slight retreat before he tries again, repeating it over and over as he tries to guide you through the sensation without overwhelming you, though the restraint in him is visibly thinning with every breath he takes.
“J-Jay… slow down… please…”
Your fingers tap weakly against his arm, trying to get his attention, but his focus is fractured. He hears you, but it doesn’t fully register the way it should, because half of his attention is gone, consumed by the overwhelming warm of your pussy, by the way everything feels too much and not enough at the same time.
He exhales sharply through his nose, a low grunt catching in his throat as he tries not to lose control completely, his movements stuttering for a brief second before he steadies again, though it’s clear he’s struggling now.
Let him in. Let him in. Let him in!
“Jay, love... please… wait…” you whimper again, almost embarrassed.
You can take this even if it feels like too much too fast. It isn’t that you can’t—it’s that he isn’t slowing the way you need him to, that everything is happening in rushed, uneven waves that leave you barely catching up before the next one hits. It was overwhelming!
“Jay!” A small, panicked squeal as you try again to pull him back into focus, your body tensing as you realize he’s not fully listening anymore.
Something is coming. Your stomach is tightening in a ways you don't fully understand. Something is fucking coming!
But Jay is gone in it now, lost in the moment, the next moment when he finally moves again, it’s with a sudden, decisive push that leaves no space for hesitation, pushing his cock all the way inside you. Drawing a sharp, breathless reaction from you as your body reacts all at once, your head tipping back, neck straining, vision flashing white at the edges as the intensity overtakes you and the world narrows down to nothing but him holding you in place while your hands scramble against the wall just to keep yourself steady.
“Ahh, fuck, finally.” Jay groans, his breath spills hot against your neck, while your own response breaks apart into soft, helpless whimpers.
Your legs tremble beneath him, muscles refusing to steady, and he feels every tight, fluttering clench that grips him like your body doesn’t know whether to pull him deeper or force him out. His jaw tightens, eyes flicking with a brief, impatient roll at the sensation, because it borders on too much, too tight, too warm, and yet he doesn’t move away, doesn’t give in to the pressure trying to push him out; he stays buried, stubbornly pressing forward, addicted to the heat wrapped around him.
Then he notices the way your thighs shake harder, the slick, sudden liquid spill that follows, spurting, as some of it trails down between your legs.
Oh…
You sniffle, lips quivering as embarrassment floods your face just as quickly as the tears do, streaking down your cheeks.
“Baby…” Hazy, almost dazed, Jay leans down to press a kiss against your head.
A flicker of satisfaction underneath it all, he feels what he’s done to you. God, he really did break you, didn’t he? His baby girl, falling apart right where he wants you.
And fuck, it feels good.
He drags himself out slowly, until there’s nothing left connecting you, the sudden emptiness making you gasp, but he doesn’t give you time to recover. He thrusts back in, forcing a sharp yelp from your throat that cracks into another sob as your hands curl uselessly.
Again—he pulls out, then pushes back in with the same steady force, drawing out that same broken sound from you.
“My baby… my love,” Jay murmurs, his head tilting back for a moment as his eyes roll, lost in the way you feel around him. One of his hands slides up, settling around your neck. “My good girl… it’s okay, shhh…” His tone softens just enough to soothe, even as his hips push deeper, contradicting every bit of comfort with the relentless way he keeps going, dragging you right back into it.
All you can do is moan. Your body feels like it’s burning from the inside out, heat spreading through your chest and stomach, pooling low in a way that leaves you breathless and unfocused. Your legs refuse to cooperate, trembling uncontrollably beneath you, barely holding your weight as Jay keeps setting that relentless pace behind you, driving his huge cock into you over and over again, hitting deep, right where it makes your thoughts scatter.
It’s too much, overwhelming in a way that makes your head spin, pleasure stacking until it feels unbearable. Good—too fucking good. It builds and builds, pressing against your nerves until it almost hurts, until it feels like your mind can’t hold onto it anymore. It feels—
“—Feels like I’m g-going to break, Jayyy—” your voice cracks as you cry out, your knees buckling under you, your body finally giving in to the strain.
You don’t hit the ground because Jay catches you instantly.
A sharp squeal leaves you as he lifts you with ease, one arm locking securely around your waist while the other still settling around your neck in a firm hold. The shift in position makes your head fall back slightly, your eyes rolling as your body reacts all over again, the angle changing just enough to make everything hit deeper, sharper, more intense than before.
“You can take it,” Jay groans right into your ear. “Haaa, I love your pussy, baby.”
Your feet dangle uselessly off the ground, swinging slightly with every movement of his body, your toes curling tight as the sensation keeps crashing over you. You are completely held up and kept in place while he keeps going, each thrust forcing another broken sound out of you.
Your back arching helplessly as the sensation overwhelms you again. It feels like you’re slipping somewhere distant, like your body is still here with him but your thoughts are drifting, dissolving into nothing but feeling.
Jay loves you, his baby girl. He fucking loves you.
A deep, guttural groan leaves him as he spills his cum into you, warmth flooding through your already trembling body, but he doesn’t let go, doesn’t ease up, doesn’t give you the mercy of rest. He keeps you held there, suspended in the air and keeps driving his hips, forcing the both of you in overstimulation.
You’re breaking.
That’s the most beautiful part.
If you crack, if you splinter under his hands, if you come apart piece by piece until there’s nothing left of you—he’ll just gather every shattered part and put you back together the way he wants.
And when you’re whole again— he’ll break you all over again.
best friends who share everything… including their side chick.
𓊆박성훈 & 심재윤& 박종성 x fem reader𓊇 baby, is it me or are you doing something to me? when you smile, it’s shining, but for some reason, you’re lying inside. dangerously, you’re beautiful. you slowly came to me, my dilemma like a habit. ─ baby don't like it, nct127 ⫶ 𐔌masterlist꒱
𓆩♡𓆪 wow hi :< it's been a minute since i wrote + something so long + smut?! + foursome?!?!?! ... i'm super sorry in advance if this is so shit because yk i don't reread my smut and this is genuinely just 10k of filth hahsheahs and i miss u guys so much kisses kisses kisses :x
word count 10k
content advisory heavy infidelity/cheating, lowkey polyamory? possessiveness, side chick, jay is a football player, jake is a nerd, toxic relationship, moral ambiguity, hoes before bros or whatever, no one's a good person here, mentioned of underage drinking (1), kinda sunghoon biased i'm so sorry, non proofread!
smut advisory foursome (fmmm), very nasty mayne, different sex scenes, squirt, fingering, cum stuffing, oral, fellatio, pussy licking/sucking, lots of making out jesus, dirty talk, profanity, locker room fucking, creampie, cumshot, tit play, jake's in love with your tits and sunghoon can't stop kissing you, flirting, jay's gentler than the others, jake is lowkey a softdom/sub, sunghoon's a hard-dom and mean, use of slut, whore, cumdump etc. doggy style, side-fucking, missionary, creampie after creampie, car sex, hotel sex... might miss out some but pls.
growing up as a trio—jake, sunghoon, and jay always, and always made sure that no secrets are kept from one another. from highschool, and attending the same college, they stuck together like glue—rooming in the same dorm block, sharing the same late–night runs, copying each other’s work despite not taking the same major but shared classes.
they called themselves 02z (and sunghoon always thought that it was corny) and no matter what happened, the rule was simple: no secrets. everything got laid out on the table—the good, the bad, the ugly, and the embarrassing.
and they’d proven it time and time again.
like the time jake got stupidly drunk at a house party at the age of seventeen, and jay had to haul his half–conscious ass back through the window of his bedroom while sunghoon knocked on the front door and entertained jake’s father from finding out.
or the time jay accidentally broke the school’s window and to prevent him from getting suspended and kicked out of the football team, jake stepped forward and took the blame—”i threw it too hard to impress a girl, sorry.” he flashed that innocent puppy smile and accepted the week’s detention without complaint. jay never forgot it and paid him back by covering his shifts for two whole weeks.
but the real payment was the tighter bond between them.
“ride or die,” sunghoon had said once. and in a world where friendships were shallow and people stabbed each other in the back, the three of them were unbreakable. like a stream of water, it cannot be cut—
but even the strongest stream can be diverted when the faucet is turned.
——
funny enough—the first time jay saw you was during one of his football friendly matches.
it was a casual friday afternoon game, nothing serious, just the medic faculty versus the business for bragging rights and free drinks afterward. jay was on the field in his number 99 jersey, sweat already soaking the back of his neck under the orange sun.
his girlfriend, minji, was sitting in the small bleachers with a couple of her friends, waving at him every time he glanced her way. he’d blown her a kiss before the whistle, the perfect boyfriend move that made his teammates tease him later.
and you weren’t even supposed to be there for him.
you were merely just a friend with one of the strikers in his team—and had come along because he (martin) had begged you to at least pretend to cheer so he doesn’t look like a loser. you sat on the grass near the sidelines, knees pulled up in those pretty shorts and prettier top.
you weren’t attention seeking or loud, but jay found his eyes travelling to you more often than he’d like to. light, genuine laughter that cut through the noise of the field and scored him square in the chest. he almost lost the ball.
and if it wasn’t after the match that everyone gathered near the benches to talk about what happened and martin pulled you in to join the conversation. you, being youself—ever so friendly and talkative you, even prettier up close and funnier than most girls he know—chatted with the rest of the boys like you’d known them for months.
jay stood there, still catching his breath, tower slung over his shoulder, watching you. the conversation flowed naturally and he found himself grinning wider than he should, eyes lingering on the way your lips curved when you smiled.
“you played so well. even if your team totally got lucky on that last goal,” you commented, casually sitting next to jay on the bench. jay laughed, humming. “yeah? that never happened by the way—so it was probably your luck.”
you raised an eyebrow, amused, turning your body slightly toward him. “you think so?”
the way you said it made something in his chest tighten in the best way possible. most girls would either just giggle or try too hard, but you looked like you were genuinely enjoying the back–and–forth.
he leaned back on the bench, resting his elbows behind him. his jersey clung to his chest, damp with sweat, but neither of you care. for once, he was grateful his girlfriend wasn’t around.
“maybe,” he replied, that smirk tugging at his lips. “or maybe you’re bad luck for the other team. every time you cheered us, their defense fell apart. i saw it.”
you let out the laugh that got him almost distracted on the field earlier—and shook your head. “you’re so smooth, jay. do you use that line on every girl who watches your game?”
uh, oh.
his smirk faltered for half a second. he let out a quick, awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck to play it cool. “of course not,” he said, chuckling a little too loudly. “that would be way too cheesy. i swear i’m not that kind of guy.”
you tilted your head, studying him with glint in your eyes. then, casually, almost too casually, you dropped it—
“i thought so! you kept blowing kisses to a girl earlier. i saw it.”
jay went quiet.
the easy smile on his face froze. his fingers tightened slightly around his water bottle as the words landed. he swore—he swore—he didn’t mean to come off as flirty or anything, but it just… came out naturally.
like it was just you.
for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. he hadn’t even realised you’d noticed that.
“yeah, well…” he started, voice trailing off. he looked away for a second, heartbeat drumming fast, searching for the right words that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete asshole.
before he could finish, you broke into a soft giggle and waved your hand lightly in front of him. “i’m just joking, hehe,” you said, mischievous. “relax. you don’t have to look so guilty.”
jay let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the tension in his shoulder easing as he laughed along. you were teasing him, but the way you said it so playfully made his tummy flip.
he finally met your eyes, watching the way your lips curved when you smiled like that. relax. you don’t have to look so guilty. then, before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it out to you.
“put your number in,” he said, smoother and calmer now. “next time we play, you could be our lucky charm again.”
you’re not stupid. if anything, martin would’ve invited you to the next matches anyway. but you took the phone anyway—fingers brushed against his. you saved yourself as yn, followed with a little soccer ball emoji and handed it back.
“don’t blow me kisses though,” you teased lightly as you stood up, brushing invisible dust from your shorts.
jay watched your back as you walked away, phone warm in his hand, your contact staring back at him. it’s harmless—it’s just a number and you’re just a girl who was easy and fun to talk to.
but the further you got from him, the more it’s clear to jay that he was going to text you tonight.
and the first turn of the faucet happened—quietly, and completely without anyone knowing, not even jay himself.
——
“oh my gosh, my player,” you moaned sensually, tipping your head back as jay lifted you up around his waist with ease.
his strong hands gripped the back of your thighs, fingers digging into your soft skin as he pressed you against the cool metal locker. the contrast between the cold surface on your back and the heat of his body made you shiver.
jay’s mouth was on yours instantly—hungry, deep, messy, and horny. he kissed you like he’d been starving from it since the first whistle was blown, tongue sliding against yours while low groans rumbled deep from his chest.
“fuck baby, you feel so good like this,” he rasped between kisses, grinding his hard cock against your bare pussy. the thin fabric of his shorts was the only thing separating you, and you could feel every inch of him throbbing, already leaking like a little boy for you.
“my little reward.”
you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his damp hair as you rocked your hips against him, chasing the friction. “hngh—you did so well… how are you so good at everything?” another sensual moan slipped from your lips when he shifted and rubbed the head of his cock against your swollen clit.
“am i?” his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, sucking and biting lightly, leaving faint marks he knew he shouldn’t but couldn’t stop himself from making. one hand stayed under your thigh, holding you up effortlessly, while the other squeezed your tit, thumb flicking over your perky nipple until you whimpered.
“look at you,” he murmured against your skin, voice hoarse with list. “so fucking wet and ready for me after i won. you like being my secret celebration, baby?”
you nodded eagerly, pussy twitching and clenching around nothing but the idea of jay’s thick cock inside. sensing that—he pulled his shorts down just enough to free his cock, thick and heavy, tip glistening with a bead of precum.
“i want you—fuck me, please,” you cry out, leaning to kiss him.
without another word, jay lined himself up and pushed inside you in one slow, deep thrust—stretching you open, filling you completely. a broken moan tore from your throat as he bottomed out, walls clenching tight around him. the guy buried his face in your neck, groaning loudly at how perfectly you took him.
“shit… so tight,” he breathed, staying still to let you adjust—but not for long before he started moving, sensual, deep rolls of his hips that dragged his cock against every sensitive spot. “oh god, yesyesyes, just like that,”
the locker rattled with every thrust. your legs tightened around his waist, heels dragging into his lower back as he fucked you against the cool metal, mouth never leaving your skin. he kissed, licked, and sucked at your neck and collarbone while his pace gradually picked up, turning deeper and harder.
“mine tonight,” he whispered roughly, one hand slipping between your bodies to rub tight circles on your wet, sensitive clit. you moaned louder, bud ticklish and feeling like you were going to squirt—which you did, just seconds after.
jay’s so good and gentle with how he’s treating you it’s making your chest flutter. “yours, jay, yours,” you gasped as the head of his cock knocked against your cervix—jerking your body upwards with each pound.
“my pretty little trophy… taking my cock so well after the game.”
your moans grew louder, more desperate, echoing softly in the empty, locked, locker room as he drove into you again and again and again—sensual, hot, sinful, and so fucking good.
jay’s breathing turned ragged, forehead pressed to yours as he chased both your highs, the wet slap of your skin and your shared gasps filling the air. the player ended up cumming—shooting ropes and ropes of warm jizz on your pretty little face, landing some on your head.
seeing how well you’re cleaning his cock—jay realised he was far from done with you.
——
for sim jaeyun, everything had its place, neatly stacked in order of importance.
first came his family—always. then his friends (sunghoon and jay at top, then the rest of the people he knows). layla, his border collie, squeezed into that top tier too. studies came strongly after that because he believed it’s 100% his future—
and finally, only then—way down the list—came fun.
and fun included his girlfriend, chloe. she was sweet, understanding, and never complained when he told her he had to study late or hang out with the boys. jake liked that about her—she knew her place in his priorities, and she respected it.
he never meant to rearrange that list.
“sorry we can’t do this at my apartment,” jake said, rubbing the back of his neck. “my girlfriend’s been staying over a lot lately and… yeah. i didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”
you and jake shared multiple classes since the start of the semester, sitting in the same lecture halls but he’d never really talked to you. not until the professor paired you two together for a major project that counted half of the final grade.
now here you were—tucked away in a quiet, secluded corner of the library on the third floor. jake sat across from you, laptop open, highlighter between his teeth as he scribbled notes. you leaned back in your chair, legs crossed, a small knowing smile playing on your lips.
unlike the easy friendliness you’d shown jay, something about jake brought out a slightly different side of you—a bit more teasing, more… dominant? like you enjoyed watching the good boy squirm a little.
“that’s okay, jakey,” you replied, tilting your head, eyes locked onto his. “anywhere is fine at least we get it done, right?”
jake blinked, caught off guard by the nickname but didn’t comment on it. his cheeks warmed slightly, but he laughed it off. “yeah… exactly. studies first, you know? gotta keep priorities straight.”
you hummed, leaning forward on your elbow, chin resting on your hand as you watched him. jake had to do everything just from glancing at your cleavage sticking out from your shirt. the way your gaze lingered made the air between you feel a little heavier, more intimate—and jake figured this was why most girls wouldn’t want their boyfriends around a girl.
a pretty one at that too.
“that’s good. keeping everything in order like that, hehe.”
the words slipped out casually but jake’s ears turned pink anyway. he shifted in his seat, suddenly hyper–aware of how secluded this corner was—no one could really see the two of you back here.
he tried to steer the conversation back to the project, pointing at the screen as you scooted closer beside him. “so… for this second, i was thinking we could—”
“oh—you typed quantitative wrong here—”
you leaned in and pointed at the typo on his laptop screen. in the process, your chest brushed against his arm, soft and warm through your thin top that jake swore he felt the sponge of your bra.
jake froze.
his breath hitched, eyes widening for a split second as he felt the brief press of your chest against his bicep. a rush of heat shot straight through him and you felt the way he tensed up.
“oh—shit, sorry,” you said quickly, pulling back a little, though your voice didn’t sound even an ounce of guilt if he was being honest. “didn’t mean to interrupt you like that.”
his mouth went dry. he could still feel the ghost of the touch on his arm, and his brain was suddenly struggling to form normal sentences. “n—no, it’s okay,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks now matching the pink of his ears.
“don’t worry about it.”
you bit your lip to hide a small smile, watching the way composed jake was suddenly flustered. the good boy who kept his priorities straight was starting to crack a little. instead of moving back, you stayed right where you were—shoulders almost touching his, close enough that your perfume filled his nostrils.
you pointed at the screen again, this time more carefully, your nails tapping on the lcd. your voice dropped softer, with a hint of light dominant slipping through.
“see? right here. fix it, jakey.”
jake swallowed hard, nodding quickly as his fingers moved to the keyboard. but it was hard to focus on the project anymore—not when every time you shifted even slightly, he became hyper–aware of how close you were, and how dangerous his mind was playing at.
that damn cleavage and top.
maybe it was because jake met you during one of his ‘studying’ sessions, but you were quick to climb up his carefully built hierarchy. just like jay, you were easy to talk to, quick with your thoughts, and somehow jake liked… being told what to do. shamelessly.
“you’re so good at this,” you hummed softly, scooting your chair just a tiny bit closer until your knee brushed his under the table. “what’s something you’re not good at?”
you meant the project—but you also knew men like jake would divert the meaning elsewhere. something jake’s not good at is probably standing on his morals and keeping his priorities straight.
not when he’s easily swayed like this.
——
just two months after that, jake’s stacked priorities crumbled.
parked in a quiet, dimly lit corner of the campus parking lot at 11:49 p.m., the backseat of his car fogged up. he had a chemistry exam the next day—yet here he was.
“jakey…” you whispered against his mouth, voice low and teasing as you cupped his cheeks, fingers tapping against his skin. “you’re thinking too much again.” you continued, straddling his lap and brushing your lips against his.
“it’s late…” he breathed, even as his hands gripped your waist tighter, pulling you down harder against the obvious bulge in his jeans. “test t’morrow… chloe… fuck, this is so wrong.”
you pouted playfully, rolling your hips and grinding against him in the meantime. “but you’ll ace the test tomorrow anyway, why bother?” you hummed, pressing your lips against him. jake groaned, head falling back against the seat. you purposely ignored the latter problem.
his morals screamed at him, but his body betrayed him completely.
clothes were pushed aside rather than fully removed—your skirt flipped up, panties pulled to the side, his jeans shoved down just enough. he had you on all fours, exactly how he liked it best: doggy style.
as all up for him to watch as it jiggles—yeah, fuck yeah. jake’s hands gripped your hips tightly as he pushed into you from behind in one, full, deep thrust—instantly burying himself deep with a broken moan.
“shit—you feel so good, yn,” he gasped, forehead pressing between your shoulder blades for a second. the angle was beyond perfect—the cramped car, and your tight, wet, cunt while being so deep he could feel every clench around him.
“uh huh? what else?”
he started moving, savouring the way your back arched for him, the way you pushed back to meet every thrust, the way your ass jiggled when his pelvis slapped ‘em. “so tight, your pussy’s so tight, yn,” he rasped, picking up his pace. jake’s hips snapped harder, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the space of the car. “i love it—love your pussy,”
jake’s cock was probably the longest you’ve had, reaching so deep your fingers, toys, and other boys had never been able to. “oh god, jakey, you’re so good,” you moaned aloud, palms flat against the fogged window.
“you’re ruining me,” jake groaned, one hand sliding up to push you down lower, chest pressed against the seat while your ass stayed up for him. “can’t stop thinkin’ about this—about you.”
his balls slapped against your wet pussy, dragging you velvet walls with each time he pulled out. you moaned sensually, gripping the edge of the seat as he fucked you faster, coming close. “then don’t stop, just do me all the time.”
that pushed him over the edge.
the boy’s grip tightened. he pulled you back onto his cock, deep with every thrust. the car rocked with his movements. “fuck, fuck, fuck,” he panted, sweat dripping down his temple, morals completely shattered as he took you exactly how he loved—deep, rough, playful.
“want your cum, gosh—fuck, cum all over me,” you gasped, saliva leaking out from the edge of your mouth. your pussy squelched with every thrust, juices splattering on the leather seat. what a shame to the girlfriend, really.
he leaned over you, one arm wrapped around your waist while the other braced beside your head, pounding into you harder as he began chasing his end. “shouldn’t… i really shouldn’t…” he groaned, voice strained and broken.
“c’mon, be a good boy—give it to me, cumcumcum,”
the praise pushed him over—with a final moan, jake pulled out of your dripping pussy. he flipped you onto your back in one motion, trapping you between his knees. his hand pumped his slick, wet cock furiously, eyes dark and wild as he hovered above you.
you looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes—lips parted, chest heaving, already arching your back and pushing your tits together for him. his abs tensed, jaw clenched tight.
“shit—i’m cumming—!”
thick liquidity, warm ropes of cum shot across your chest in messy spurts, painting your tits and collarbones white. some landed right on your nipple, dripping slowly down the curve which only caused jake to cum some more.
fuck, that’s so fucking hot—he thought, swallowing the lump in his throat as he kept stroking himself through it, milking every last drop until his cock twitched empty and his whole body shuddered.
you licked around your lips, smearing jake’s cum all over your pretty tits. it looked like you were lactating his cum.
“fuck… am i good enough, yn?” he murmured, chest heaving. “look at what you do to me.”
——
saturday night and sunghoon’s at a popular off–campus club with a group of his classmates. while he’s not much of a party guy, he came because one of them kept dragging him anyway, and he knew he couldn’t keep rejecting their advances for so long.
he’s sitting in the booth area, nursing drunks, bored, and detached while everyone else is loud and drunk. sunghoon doesn’t dance. doesn’t flirt. just watch.
that’s when he saw you.
you’re on the dance floor with your girlfriends, just being effortlessly sexy and attractive—the way your body swayed, hair sticking on your neck from the heat, the same curve of your smile that jay was starstrucked with.
and that damn black dress that hugged your curves just right.
sunghoon’s eyes locked on you instantly, he didn't smile when your eyes met his as well across the floor—just watching. instead of looking away shyly, you held his gaze for a few seconds, then your eyes travelled from the top of his head down to his shoes, and gave him a slow smile before turning back to your friends.
that was all it took for him.
sunghoon stood up, leaving his classmates’ drinks and stuffs on the table, and walked straight onto the crowd. he didn’t say anything at first—just slid in behind you, one hand slightly resting on your waist as he spun you around to meet him.
“hey,” he murmured, tall frame towering over you. “what’s that about?”
you tilted your head slightly, a playful, faux innocence smile playing on your lips. “what’s what about?”
his eyebrows furrowed just a fraction, but the corner of his mouth twitched—the tiniest hint of amusement and a thought of, wow, the audacity. his hand stayed on your waist, thumb pressing lightly into the fabric of your dress, holding you in place.
“that look you gave me,” he said, shrugging. “are you daring me?”
you let out a soft laugh that almost sounded like a scoff, eyes sparkling and laced with a kind of bratness that he never knew he was into. you didn’t pull away but instead stepped a little closer, letting your chest brush against his as you looked up at him through your lashes.
“and if i am?” you replied, sweetly. “what are you gonna do about it?”
morality had always been quite a blur to sunghoon.
he never lost sleep over it but rules, right and wrong, loyalty—they were just concepts that applied to other people. as long as it didn’t affect his image or his life or his close circle greatly, he didn’t care enough to draw hard lines.
and tonight, those blurry lines had just walked out of the club with him.
sunghoon didn’t say much as he guided you toward his black sedan by holding your hand in his. you glanced up at him, still wearing that same little smile. “you always drag girls out of clubs without asking their name?”
he unlocked the car with a soft beep and opened the front door for you. his eyes met yours—completely unbothered. “sunghoon,” he said simply. “and i don’t bring girls out anywhere.”
you let out a hum, but still slid into the front seat without hesitation. he followed right after, closing the door behind him. the inside of his car smelled strongly of his cologne, and as he started the engine, he didn’t bother with small talks. didn’t ask where you lived, nor did he offer to take you home.
sunghoon pulled out of the parking lot and drove toward the city centre with his one hand occasionally brushing your thigh. you watched the streetlights flicker across his jawline and the way his expression said nothing eventhough the tension between you two in the car reeked with want.
“so… where are we going?”
“a hotel. closer than my place.”
——
the door had barely clicked shut before sunghoon had you pressed against the wall, mouth crashing into yours in a deep. hungry kiss. there was nothing gentle about it—his lips moved against yours with need, tongue sliding in immediately to taste you as one hand gripped your jaw, and the other pressed on your hip.
and you—you kissed him back just as greedily, fingers digging into his shoulders, tugging at his shirt like you wanted it off yesterday. “ngh—hngh,” you moaned into his mouth, tongue intertwining and sucking on one another.
sunghoon broke the kiss only long enough to pull your dress up and over your head at once, letting it drop to the floor. his hands were on you instantly—squeezing your tits, sliding down to grip your ass, yanking you flush against him so you could feel how hard he was through his pants.
“fuck,” he muttered against your lips, voice low. he bit your bottom lip, then soothed it with his tongue before kissing you again, deeper this time.
you moaned into his mouth, hands working frantically to unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders. the moment his bare chest pressed against yours, sunghoon groaned and lifted you up. your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he carried you across the room, lips still on yours.
he dropped you onto the bed, the mattress dipping. before you could even catch your breath, sunghoon was crawling over you, shoving his pants and boxers fully down to free his thick, heavy cock.
and jesus—unlike jay or jake’s, sunghoon was packing.
“you’re so hot,” sunghoon licked his lips, hooked his fingers into your panties, ripped them down your legs, and spread your thighs wide open with his knees. he looked down at you for one brief second, then lined himself up.
“are you gonna fuck me? without even knowing my name?”
sunghoon paused, the corner of his mouth twitching into a cocky smirk. finally, he didn’t look cold. he pushed just the tip inside you, teasing, before answering.
“i know you, yn,”
your eyes almost widened, a mix of surprise and arousal flashing across your features.
“how?”
he leaned down closer, one hand gripping your thigh as he slowly sank another inch deeper, stretching your tight cunt open. “i overhead your friends,” he murmured, hissing through his teeth as your pussy engulfed him.
you let out a soft moan, back arching as the familiar burn of being stretched came back to you. “fuck… you’re really something, hoonie.”
sunghoon bottomed out with a groan, burying himself to the hilt inside you. for a second, he stayed still—letting you feel and adjust every inch of him, his grip on your thighs tightened. you arched your back, eyes half–lidded as you looked up at him, that spark still burning bright behind your eyes.
“fuck me good, hoonie,” you whispered, biting your bottom lip as you began palming and playing with your tits, tweaking the perky buds. “make it worth me leaving my friends for you.”
“shh—shut up and let me do the work.”
that night, sunghoon fucked you for hours—the bed creaked loudly beneath as he fucked you deep and fast, hips snapping against yours with every thrust. his hands held your thighs spread wide, keeping you open as he pounded. the wet sounds of your bodies echoing in the hotel room.
“fuck—your cunt feels s’good,” sunghoon moaned, tipping his head against the headrest, jaw clenched tight. you hovered right over his hard, slick cock. sunghoon’s eyes never left yours as you sank down onto him, taking every inch until your ass met his lap.
a broken moan left your lips at the deeper angle. sunghoon groaned too, his fingers digging harder. “look at you,” he murmured, eyes roaming over your face, your bouncing, marked, tits, lips parted in pleasure with your tongue sticking out.
fuck. this is why sunghoon loved cowgirl. watching every lewd, pretty expression, every flutter of your eyelashes, your mouth opened to moan his name—because of this cock.
you started moving, rolling your hips in sensual circles, then bouncing on his cock with more force. his hands guided you, but he let you do most of the work, just like he liked it. his gaze stayed locked on your face the entire time.
“you’re so big, hoonie, oh jesus fuck,” you moaned eagerly, biting your lip. with each time you bounced on it, the head of his cock kissed your cervix sweetly and it felt so fucking good. he pulled you down closer by the nape of your neck, and kissed you deeply while you rode him.
“that’s it… just like that, baby,” he rasped against your mouth, kissing the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then your jaw. “ride my cock like a good girl—let me see how pretty you look when you cum on me again.”
his free hand moved between your bodies to circle and pinch your perky buds. the combination made your rhythm falter, thighs shaking as you bounced faster, chasing the high.
sunghoon kept watching you—obsessed. he kissed you again and again, swallowing your moans, occasionally bucking his hips to meet your movements and driving himself even deeper.
“cummin’ soon, babe?” he murmured against your lips, now moving his hand to rub that sensitive, wet, clit. “cum on me—then i’ll fill you up.”
you could only moan his name as the pleasure built higher and higher, your hips moving desperately.
sunghoon, who never thought he’d ever cheat on sooha, let alone creampie another girl he just met raw—watched your face with almost possessive gaze. he had always been careful, even with someone who has little to no morals.
and you—who had literally never let anyone cum inside you before—were seconds away from letting him be the first.
your thighs shook as the orgasm crashed over you. “fuck—!” you cried out, clenching hard around him, hips stuttering as you came and squirted all over his cock. the feeling of your pussy pulsing and gushing around him pushed sunghoon over the edge.
thick, hot spurts of semen flooded inside you, filling you up the very first time. he kept thrusting through it, pushing his cum deeper.
one night stand—this won’t ruin anything for sunghoon.
right?
——
“so,” jay started, leaning back against the railing with that smirk of his, “valentine’s next week. you guys already got plans locked in?”
jake nodded, smiling. “don’t even say it. i booked the restaurant last month because i know she’ll kill me if i forget. we’ll probs just have dinner together.” he shook his head, sipping his canned beer. “gotta keep the girlfriend happy, right?”
sunghoon took a slow sip of his as well, shrugging and unbothered as ever. “i’ll probably just take sooha out on a breakfast and shopping. i got plans that night.”
jay raised an eyebrow, turning to him with curiousity. “oh? what are you doing that night?”
he didn’t even flinch, just stared down at the small puddle of water around the can opening where his mouth kissed it. “bringing yeji out,” he said, absentmindedly swirling the alcohol in the can. “she’s been begging me to take her out. figured valentine’s night is as good as any.”
jake let out a laugh, completely buying it. “damn, she’s gonna milk you dry.” he commented, then glanced at jay from where he’s sitting. “what about you? something big again?”
“nah, think minji wants something intimate this time.” he hummed, looking out at the yard—people were chatting, dancing, and drunk to their heads. “maybe i’ll cook and we’ll spend the day at mine. who knows.”
“what a romance.”
the three of them continued talking easily—hopping from one topic to another—arguing whose girlfriend was more demanding, whose more whipped, and reminiscing about things they’ll never get back.
none of them even knew that they each shared the same secret—and little did they know, she was walking around the party downstairs right under their noses.
down in the crowded kitchen, you leaned against the counter, red cup in hand, while heeseung stood in front of you—close enough that his arm rested on the counter beside your waist.
“oh, i don’t have a boyfriend,” you replied, taking a small sip from your cup while holding his gaze. heeseung grinned, leaning in a little closer and lowering his voice so only you could hear him over the loud music.
“good. because i’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. you’re always so hard to catch alone.” his fingers lightly tapped the counter next to your hip. “what do you say? let me take you somewhere nice this valentines?”
you bit your lip, pretending to think about it—
but before you could answer, a familiar voice cut through the noise.
“yn?”
sunghoon.
he was frowning. the usual expression on his face didn’t change much except for the tightness of his jaw, and the way his gaze flicked to heeseung’s hand near your hip.
heeseung turned his head, still smiling. “oh, hey man—”
sunghoon didn’t let him finish.
without a word, he reached out, wrapped his fingers around your waist and firmly pulled you away from the counter and away from heeseung. “come with me,” he said quietly, already leaving the kitchen.
you barely had time to shoot heeseung an apologetic smile before sunghoon guided you through the crowd, up the stairs, and into one of the empty guest rooms on the second floor. he closed the door—but didn’t lock it—the party noise instantly muffled.
“the fuck was that?” he asked, frowning and confused. “heeseung? really? you let him get that close to you?”
sunghoon took a step closer, towering over, eyes narrowed.
“i thought we had an understanding,” he continued, laced with unfair possessiveness. “you didn’t even tell me you’d be here—then i caught you with some dude flirting?”
before you could form a reply, his hand came up to grip your cheeks, forcing you to meet his gaze. “you couldn’t wait till i take you out on valentines?”
you looked up at him, a scoff escaped you—and a small smile tugged at your lips. “so you can have fun with sooha… but i can’t do the same with heeseung?”
his jaw tightened; and for a second, he just stared at you, thumb brushing over your lower lips. he let out a low, breathy scoff, almost a laugh—but there was no humour in it. “you’re really testing me,” he murmured, clicking his tongue.
“sooha’s my girlfriend. she gets breakfast and shopping because that’s what keeps everything quiet. you…” he paused, free hand slid down to your waist where he squeezed the flesh. “you get me at night. isn’t that better? i’m about to fuck you all night and you’re gettin’ jealous over some fucking breakfast?”
he tilted your head slightly, fingers digging into your flesh.
“don’t compare yourself to her. and don’t let another guy put his hands near you again.”
he crashed his lips against yours in a hungry, possessive kiss, gripping your jaw tighter as he devoured your mouth. the kiss was messy and intense—tongues sliding, teeth grazing, low groans between you.
you kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers threading into his hair and tugging hard, making him groan into your mouth.
“fuuuccckkk,” he grunted between the kiss—turning and walking you backwards until your legs hut the edge of the bed. without breaking the kiss, sunghoon pushed you down onto the mattress and climbed on top of you, body pressing into the sheets.
his hands roamed greedily—one sliding under your dress to grip your thigh, the other pinning your wrists above your head. “oh my, hngh,” you moaned softly, arching up into him as he ground his hips down against you. sunghoon bit your bottom lip, then soothed it with his tongue.
“always pissin’ me off—”
his phone suddenly started ringing on the nightstand.
sunghoon ignored it initially, lips moving down to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave another mark as the ringing continued. “jesus—shut the fuck up…” he murmured, merely glancing at his phone. he assumed it was just one of his friends, or just anyone but—
“sunghoon, you in here—?”
jake’s voice died in his throat. jay stood right beside him, phone in his hand—both of them froze in the doorway, eyes wide as they took in the scene.
you lying on the bed, dress hiked up, lips swollen from kissing. sunghoon on top of you, one hand under your dress, his lips glistened from saliva, hair messy from your fingers.
for a long, suffocating second, nobody moved.
sunghoon’s head snapped up, eyes widening in genuine shock, his expression completely shattered—he was caught. fucking caught. by his own bestfriends. they weren’t supposed to fucking know that he’s not loyal to sooha. the same two guys he swore loyalty to since teenangers.
the colour drained from his face.
jake and jay stared, wide–eyed, stunned.
“...yn?” jake breathed out first, voice barely above a whisper, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. jay’s mouth opened, then closed—replaced by pure disbelief. instead of addressing the elephant in the room—which was sunghoon fucking cheating—your name came out first.
the realisation hit them both at the same time—how the fuck did all of them came to know you? if jay knew you because of his affair, and jake knew you too—and sunghoon too—then were they all having an affair with you?
they’d been secretly fucking the same girl for months—?!
you, still pinned under sunghoon, felt your stomach drop.
“oh my fucking gosh…” you whispered, eyes wide, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you before you could stop it. you propped yourself up on your elbows, hand flew up to cover your mouth, but it was useless.
the shock, the absurdity, the fact that you had been playing all three of them without any of them knowing… it was all crashing down at once.
sunghoon finally pulled his hand out from under your dress and sat up slightly. he looked between his two bestfriends, voice strained. “look—this isn’t what it looks like.”
jake let out a broken, disbelieving laugh. “you’re on top of her, dude.”
jay’s grip tightened—he stared at you like he was seeing you for the first time.
“you.. and sunghoon?” his voice cracked. “how long has this been going on?”
the room was thick and silent for half a second.
then it clicked.
sunghoon’s eyes narrowed and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked at jay—then slowly turned his head toward jake. the realisation hit him. “wait…” he muttered. “how the fuck do you know her?”
jake’s face went pale—he blinked rapidly and swallowed the lump in his throat. “yeah… how do you know yn?”
jay’s mouth opened, but no words came out at first. his gaze flicked between you and sunghoon, confusion turning into dawning horror. sunghoon sat up straighter, but not off you. all three boys were now staring directly at you.
“how do you know jay?”
“and how the hell do you know jake?”
“you and sunghoon—?”
now the focus shifted entirely on you.
you were still lying on the bed, dress rumpled, lips swollen, heart hammering in your chest. three pairs of eyes—shocked, jealous, and confused—were locked on you.
“i—”
you tried to sit up, tugging your dress down with shaky hands. “i—i didn’t know? ah, i swear… it just… happened? i mean—”
you were clearly flustered, words tumbling out in a nervous rush. “i never thought—i didn’t know you guys knew each other—?”
before you could finish, jake reached behind him and closed the door with a soft click, locking the four of you inside. both of them walked closer to the bed, their expressions shifting from confusion to something more of—betrayal and disbelief.
jay ran a hand through his hair, letting out a short laugh. “wow… you’ve been fucking all of us?” his voice was low, eyes wide. “our own friend group?”
why didn’t they blame each other—? you thought, swallowing the lump in your throat. you guys were the asshole cheaters in the first place! so they could cheat on their girlfriends, but god forbids a girl have fun with multiple guys?
“have you been playing us the whole time? jake asked. “letting jay fuck you, me, now sunghoon pinning you down like that?”
just as you were about to open your mouth, sunghoon squished your cheeks together and slammed his lips against yours roughly—teeth clashing and grazing your lips. you whimpered into the kiss, hands instinctively grabbing his shirt.
when sunghoon finally pulled back, you grasped for air. his thumb dragged across your botton lip. “there’s no point hiding anymore, is there?”
the tension snapped.
jay moved first, climbing onto the bed and grabbing your wrist, pulling you toward him. “c’mere, baby.” jake was right behind him, kneeling on your other side. sunghoon stayed where he was, between your knees, watching as his two bestfriends started touching you.
in seconds, your dress was being yanked up and over your head. hands were everywhere—jake’s mouth on your neck, jay’s hands squeezing your tits, sunghoon’s fingers hooking into your panties and dragging them down your legs.
you were panting, head spinning from the sudden overload.
“look at her,” jay murmured, voice thick as he pinched your nipple, eliciting a moan. “pretty little side chick… been taking all three of us like a whore.” jake groaned, kissing down your chest. “and we thought we were the only ones… fuck, that’s so hot.”
sunghoon gripped your jaw again, turning your face toward him. “open your mouth.”
the second you did, and he kissed you again—rough and deep—while jay and jake worked together pleasing your tits. jay’s hand wandered along your tummy—down to your bare, wet cunt.
his fingers slid between your folds, groaning when he felt how wet you already were. “shit, so soaked.”
“fuckin’ dripping for us already,” sunghoon said, moving to give jake a space to settle between your spread legs. “turn over,” sunghoon ordered, commanding as he grabbed your hips. “on your hands and knees now, c’mon.”
your body obeyed before your brain could catch up—which shocked jake a little since with him, you were never this obedient. you were flipped onto all fours in the middle of the bed, ass up, back arched, completely exposed.
jake gripped your asscheeks, spreading them wide enough as he leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly from your clit, all the way up to your dripping hole. “fuck, taste s’good,” he moaned, his cock beneath his pants twitched. he dove back in, licking and sucking messily while jay knelt in front of you. he tilted your chin up, hard cock already freed from his pants, thick and leaking.
“open that pretty mouth, baby.”
you parted your lips and he instantly pushed the head of his cock past them, sliding deep into your warm mouth with a satisfied groan. “oh, fuuuuck… your mouth always feels s’good…”
sunghoon stayed at your side, one hand already palming and stroking his cock while the other reached underneath to rub circles on your clit as jake french–kissed your pussy. “look at you,” sunghoon murmured. “what a slut… taking all taken men at once. this what you wanted, isn’t it?”
jake hummed against your pussy and you felt the curve of his mouth forming into a smile—the vibration making your thighs quiver. jay thrusted into your mouth, hand tangled in your hair. “been screwing each of us behind the other’s backs…” jay groaned, pushing deeper until you gagged.
“greedy little girl.”
your muffled moan around jay’s cock was the only answer they needed.
jake was the first to pull back from between your legs, shiny with your juices. he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, swimming with pure need. “i’m going first,” he said, settling behind you. “been dying to fuck you again since the last time.”
sunghoon and jay didn’t argue. they simply shifted positions.
jake moved behind you, gripping your hips tightly and lining up his hard cock with your dripping entrance. without any warning or heads up, he pushed in with one deep thrust—bottoming out in a single stroke.
“oh, fuuuck…” he groaned aloud, head falling back as your tight walls clenched around him. “still so ’ tight… missed this pussy so much.” jake started thrusting—deep strokes that rocked your body forward.
at the same time, sunghoon knelt in front of you. he grabbed your hair gently but firmly, guiding your mouth to his cock. “open up,” he ordered quietly. you obeyed, lips parting as he slid his thick length into your mouth. sunghoon let out a groan, eyes half–lidded as he watched you take him inch by inch.
jay moved to your side, kneeling close enough that his cock was right next to your face. your hand instinctively wrapped around his length, stroking his wet cock while you sucked his best friend’s.
the room filled with wet, porno sounds—jake’s hips slapping against your ass as he fucked you from behind, the slick sounds of your mouth working sunghoon’s dick, and your hand pumping jay’s length. every now and then, jake would slap you ass—gripping, squeezing, and spreading and watched as your asshole twitched.
“aw, pretty baby,” jay grunted, wrapping his bigger hand around yours as he guided you through it out. “taking all three of us so well, mm? perfect girl.”
next to him, sunghoon scoffed. jake panted and runted like a dog—gripping your hips harder as he pounded into you. “oh—hah—you feel so good, oh fuck, i missed this so much—missed you so much.”
sunghoon glanced at jake before his hand tightened in your hair, guiding your head as he picked up his pace fucking your mouth. “that’s it… suck me just like that—how you’d do with all the other guys, babe.”
jay groaned, hips twitching into your fist. “yeah—? do you have other guys you’re fucking aside us, yn?”
you instantly shook your head as much as you could with sunghoon’s cock buried in your mouth, a desperate, muffled, “mm—mm” vibrating around him.
“right,” sunghoon clicked his tongue. the memory of you getting hit on by heeseung playing in the back of his head. if you were able to hide jake and jay from him for months—who knew who else?
every thrust from jake pushed you forward onto sunghoon’s cock, forcing you to take him even deeper down your throat. you were gagging around him, drool slipping from the corners of your mouth but you kept sucking.
jake’s rhythm started to falter. his grip on your hips tightened almost painfully as he fucked you harder from behind. “hah—i’m close, oh god,” he groaned. “wanna fill you up—i can fill you up, right? hngh—you’ll let me?”
he slammed into you a few more times, deep and desperate, burying himself to the hilt. now—jay and sunghoon never knew jake was someone who’s into this but who were they to judge? the contrast between how you were with jake, sunghoon, and jay made them want to laugh.
with jay, you’re treated as the princess of the princess—sweet, gentle, kind words—like you’re the girlfriend. with jake, you got to order and command—and he’s always so fucking into being called a good boy. with sunghoon? with sunghoon—you’re the brat that needed some punishment.
you nodded your head and that was all jake needed.
“hah—cumming—” he rasped. you felt the first hot spurts of his cum flood deep inside you. the puppy boy kept grinding into you, milking every drop as he creampied you, his cock twitching. a low whine escaped your throat, muffled.
when jake finally pulled out, a thick trail of his cum leaked from your cunt.
“next,” jake panted, voice hoarse as he moved aside.
they filled you onto your back.
the player immediately took his place between your legs, but instead of fucking you missionary, he turned you slightly onto your side. he lifted your top leg, hooking it over his hip, and instantly slid his throbbing cock into your cum–filled cunt in one thrust.
“ah—! jay!” you moaned aloud, followed by jay’s groan. the warmth from jake’s cum wasn’t helping the situation at all. it felt so fucking good. “she’s so slippery with your cum, jake… so filthy.”
he started fucking you from the side—deep, rolling thrusts that let him hit every sensitive spot. you’re beyond embarrassed at this point. your creamy pussy that gushes cum with each thrust, how exposed and bare and wet you were for the other two boys to see.
you wondered if this was the consequences of your actions.
jake moved up beside your head, still breathing hard. he groped your tits greeding—how he loved them—squeezing and kneading, pinching your sweaty nipples as he leaned down to kiss and bite along your neck.
‘hngh—yn, i love these so much,” he muffled, sucking and tugging at your boobs. “so soft, you’re so squishy.”
sunghoon shifted to your other side, cupping your jaw and pulling you into a deep, messy kiss. his tongue slid against yours while jay continued fucking you from the side, the wet sounds of his cock plunging into your creampied pussy filling the room.
sunghoon kissed you like he couldn’t bear not doing anything while the other two boys had their fun. he was almost annoyed and pissed that they just had to interrupt him having you all to himself earlier.
“is this what you like?” jake murmured against your neck, his hands never stopping roaming. he groped your breasts, rolled your nipples between his fingers, then slid one hand down to rub your clit in lazy circles while jay thrusted into you. “taking jay’s dick right after i filled you up… you’re so hot, yn.”
“hngh—jay, oh fuck, you’re so big—” you moaned into sunghoon’s mouth in which he instantly shut you up. jay groaned, picking up the pace, hips snapping harder. “fuck. i can feel your cum every time i push in, jake. poor sweetheart, do you like this, baby?”
sunghoon pulled back from the kiss just enough to let you breathe, lips brushing yours. “answer him while he’s fucking you.”
your body trembled between the three guys as you answered: “yes, yes, yesyesyes—! i—i love all three of you, oh my fuck!” you cried out, chasing sunghoon’s lips as you began sucking his bottom lip. you moaned shamelessly into his mouth while jay’s cock dragged against your walls.
“we love you too.”
behind you, jay smirked—and jake couldn’t help from smiling.
“show us how much you love it, please?” jake murmured against your nipple, his fingers never slowing down—pressing and rubbing your clit. “squirt for us—make a mess all over jay’s dick.”
he began rubbing harder—and the pressure coiled fast. too fast.
before you knew it, your thighs started shaking uncontrollably. your back arched sharply as jake’s fingers and jay’s cock worked you together. “oh, i’m gonna—!”
you didn’t even get to finish.
with a loud, broken cry, you squired around jay’s cock. clear fluid gushed out of you, soaking jay’s hips, the sheets, and jake’s hand. your whole body convulsed, pussy clenching and pulsing violently.
“fuck—!” jay groaned, eyes rolling back as your walls squeezed him like a vice. the feeling of you squiring all over him while still full of jake’s cum pushed him over the edge. without any warning, he buried himself deep and came—thick ropes of cum shooting right inside.
he kept grinding into you through his orgasm, pushing every drop deeper as your squirt continued to leak around his cock.
sunghoon watched the while thing, still kissing you through your high, swallowing every broken moan and whimper.
when jay finally stilled, panting against your shoulder, the room was filled with heavy breathing and the obscene sound of cum and squirt dripping onto the sheets. jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your nipple while his fingers slowed on your oversensitive clit.
“good girl…” jay murmured, kissing your temple. “such a perfect girl.”
jay pulled out slowly, another mix of squirt and both their cum leaking out of your used cunt like whipped cream, jay smirked, giving your ass a squeeze.
“my turn.”
sunghoon didn’t waste a single second.
he moved between your legs, pushing them wide open as he settled on top of you in full missionary, his frame caged you in, eyes locked onto yours that always made your tummy flip. without warning, he slid two fingers deep into your cum–filled pussy, curcling them instantly.
“hah—hoonie—!” you gasped, back arching off the bed as he started fingering you—fast and deep, wet sounds loud and filthy as he stirred jake and jay’s cum inside you. “feel that, babe? he muttered. “so full already—yet so slutty for more.”
he pumped his fingers harder, scissoring them, pushing the mixed loads deeper while his thumb rub your swollen clit. your legs trembled around him, overstimulation making tears prick.
only when you were whimpering and gasping did sunghoon finally pull his fingers out. he brought them up to your mouth.
“clean ‘em.”
you obediently opened your lips, sucking his fingers clean of the messy mix of cum while he watched. then, he lined up his thick, needy cock—and pushed into you in one deep thrust, slow enough to let you feel every inch and veins of him.
a broken moan tore from your throat.
sunghoon bottomed out, holding your hips. “shit… so warm and wet,” he breathed, and began to move. his thrusts were hard and deliberate, hips snapping forward with every stroke, driving jake and jay’s cum even deeper.
he kept you in missionary the whole time—face to face, eyes locked, his body pressed flush against yours. one hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider. the other slid up to wrap gently around your throat, holding you there.
“open your mouth.”
you obeyed instantly, lips paring, tongue slightly out naturally.
sunghoon leaned in first. he gathered spit in his mouth and let it drop slowly onto your tongue, watching with a smirk as it landed right on your tongue. jake moved in simultaneously, hovering above you as he spat directly into your open mouth, a thick string of saliva mixing with sunghoon’s. jay too—tilted your head upward gently before spitting into your mouth as well.
all three of their spit mixed together on your tongue—so fucking humiliating in the best way.
“swallow, baby, c’mon,” jay murmured, kissing your cheek. sunghoon tightened his grip on your throat just a little, you swallowed the thick saliva, throat bobbing under his palm. the taste of all three of them made your pussy clench hard around sunghoon’s cock.
“fuck, she just squeezed me,” sunghoon groaned, picking up the pace, fucking you harder. “such a nasty little cumslut.”
jake chuckled, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth as he palmed your tits. jay’s hand slid down to rub your clit as sunghoon pounded into you deeply—”nasty little girl, look at you,” jay murmured, caressing your hair.
“you love being used like this? who taught you to be so slutty, baby, hm?”
sunghoon’s eyes never left yours—your half–lidded, crossed, rolled to the back glossy eyes. he fucked you relentlessly, wet squelching sounds of his cock stirring the mixed cum inside you filling the room. his hand stayed around your throat as he fucked your cunt like a fleshlight, claming while jake had his fun with your tits, and jay continued teasing your clit from the side.
you were a complete mess—trembling, moaning, drooling… barely got to focus on the moving ceiling above. your tits bounced and jiggled with every thrust—a sight jake could cum alone.
sunghoon’s thrusts grew sharper, deeper, and more desperate. his grip on you throat tightened just a fraction as he groaned against your lips. “fuck… ‘m cummin’—”
he straightened up, canines digging into his bottom lip as he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. the hardest he’s ever ejaculated. thick, hot ropes of cum flooded and washed over deep inside you, mixing with the cum from jake and jay before.
as usual, he kept grinding into you, pushing every drop as deep as possible while his cock twitched inside your overused, overfilled pussy.
at the same time, the two boys kneeled on either side of your head—jerking themselves off furiously above you, breathing heavily. “shit, shit, shit,” jay rasped, thick spurts of cum landing across your tits and collarbones.
“oh, gosh, yn, please,” jake whimpered, following just right after as he painted your face and chest with more warm cum. their softened cocks rested on your chest, with jay’s twitching again as it rubbed your nipple.
you lay there, panting, body covered in their cum—tits glistening like you milked out semen, pussy leaking a creamy mix of all three of them, throat marked from sunghoon’s hands and jake’s bites, lips swollen from jay’s kisses.
the room was silent except for heavy breathing and panting.
sunghoon pulled out—agonisingly slow—watching his thick cum drip and burst out from your stretched hole. fuck—what a sight, he thought. he wasn’t sure if this would be the last time. your pussy twitched and spasmed around nothing, thighs trembling with orgasm as you shivered.
jay leaned to press a chaste kiss on your cheek. jake’s softened cock caressed your other cheek as the owner pumped the mixed cum back inside your puffy pussy with his fingers. sunghoon pressed a soft, loving kiss to your lips.
“you’re our secret girl now.”
you lay between them—as the three sworn, soulmates bestfriends who used to swear they had no secrets finally agreed on one secret:
they would share their perfect little side chick—away from their girlfriends, and away from all the other guys out there.
as it turns out, i got reincarnated into park sunghoon’s gold-digging fiancée!
ʚɞ summary - after a truck sends you spiraling out of your old life, you wake in silk sheets and a diamond ring, trapped inside the body of cha y/n: the shallow, borderline-evil fiancée of ceo park sunghoon, fated to be discarded in popular webnovel melting the cold ceo’s heart. you know exactly how this ends: with sunghoon choosing your sweet wedding planner, lee soojin, on your wedding day while you stand alone, humiliated. so, of course, the most logical course of action is not to fight the plot. in fact, you’ll be the most pleasant, agreeable, and completely forgettable fiancée possible. but there’s just one problem with changing the storyline: it forces sunghoon to notice you. and the more you try to push him toward the love he is destined for, the more he pulls toward you instead. fate is one thing. desire is another. and when the man who was never supposed to even like you looks at you like you’re his world, walking away may cost far more than losing ever would.
ʚɞ tags - 18+ MDNI, f!reader, isekai/transmigration, angst, fluff, drama, slow-ish burn (?) vaginal sex (p in v), unprotected sex, breeding kink, window sex, office sex, jealous!hoon, wattpad-ish tropes yet again, sunghoon lowkey loses his mind bc the y/nussy is so good
ʚɞ w.c - 16k
THE LAST THING YOU REMEMBERED WAS THE BLARING HORN, the sound of screeching tires, and a truck’s grille filling your entire world. Then—
—nothing…?
You woke up to the pleasant smell of expensive linen and the feeling of your face pressed into a pillow softer than any cloud you’d ever imagined. Your head throbbed dully, and you groaned, pushing yourself up on elbows that felt strangely delicate, blinking against the morning light filtering through gigantic windows that showcased a city skyline you didn’t recognize at all.
What the hell?
The room looked like something from a spread from a luxury magazine. A chaise lounge in dove grey sat in the corner, next to a vanity table littered with crystal perfume bottles and jewelry boxes spilling over with gold chains and diamonds that glittered even in the soft light. You swung your legs out of the bed, your feet sinking into a plush, cream-colored rug. You were wearing silk pajamas—silk fucking pajamas!—a matching set in a blush pink that felt alien against your skin.
A full-length mirror stood opposite the bed. You stumbled toward it.
The reflection staring back was yours, and yet—it wasn’t. Your face, but perfected, hair that you usually kept in a hurriedly-brushed ponytail fell in artful, salon-fresh waves. Even your skin was flawless, glowing with the kind of health that only comes from expensive facials and a complete lack of real-world stress.
“Okay,” you whispered to the stranger in the mirror. “Okay, breathe. This is a dream. It has to me. A very, very detailed dream brought on by that last glass of soju and that novel you stayed up way too late finishing.”
The novel. Melting the Cold CEO’S Heart. It was a trashy, addictive romance you’d read on a whim, and the male lead, Park Sunghoon, was cold, ruthless, and unfairly handsome, trapped in a business arrangement—an engagement with a shallow, gold-digging socialite named… your blood ran cold as you remembered.
Y/N.
Your namesake, and the villainess of the novel. The one who was pathologically obsessed with Sunghoon’s money and status, who made the female lead’s life miserable, and who was unceremoniously dumped when Sunghoon finally broke free of his family’s shackles to be with his one true love, the sweet and humble wedding planner, Soojin.
You looked at the room around you. You looked at your perfect, manicured hands. You remembered the truck.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” you said, your voice echoing in the cavernous room.
The plot, as you remembered it, was straightforward. The real Cha Y/N would play the devoted fiancée, clinging to Sunghoon’s arm at every event, while secretly making the life of the female lead, Lee Soojin, a living hell. Sunghoon, cold to his fiancée, would find himself drawn to Soojin’s genuine warmth and resilience, and after a series of public scandals orchestrated by Cha Y/N, Sunghoon would finally snap, publicly denounce her, and run into the rain to confess his love to Soojin. Roll credits.
Your old life, by comparison, had been pleasantly predictable. You worked a mid-level office job at a small logistics firm, a job you were competent at but which offered no real passion. Your days were a blur of spreadsheets, lukewarm coffee from the breakroom machine, and polite, surface-level conversations with colleagues you’d never see outside of work hours. Your apartment was a snug, lightly cluttered one-bedroom. Your social life was limited to your best friend, Abby, who you only got to see about once a month for dinner when she wasn’t busy with her boyfriend, Heeseung. Weekends were for laundry, grocery shopping, and maybe a movie if you could muster the energy. It was fine, by all means. Safe. And, if you were being brutally honest with yourself in your most vulnerable moments, a little bit boring.
The thrill, the color, the feeling in your life came from elsewhere:
Webnovels.
They were your escape. During your lunch break, hunched over your phone at your desk. On the subway ride home, packed between strangers. Late at night, curled under your blankets with the screen’s glow the only light in the room. You devoured them. Regency romances, fantasy epics, modern-day dramas. You loved them all, but you had a particular, guilty fondness for the tropiest of the tropey: the cold, domineering male lead and the plucky heroine who thawed his heart.
You knew the formulas by heart. The accidental touch that sent sparks flying. The possessive glare across a crowded room. The misunderstanding that drove them apart for three agonizing chapters before the grand reconciliation. It was comfort food for your soul. In those pages, you could experience earth-shattering love without the risk of a broken heart.
Now, standing in this silent, opulent bedroom, the irony almost made you laugh. You’d fantasized about being in a story like this a thousand times, but—you’d always imagined yourself as the heroine, not the villainess slated for a spectacular downfall.
A soft knock at the door made you jump nearly a foot in the air.
“Miss Cha?” a polite, older woman’s voice called through the wood. “Your breakfast is ready. The car will be here in one hour to take you to Mr. Park’s office for the wedding planning consultation.”
Wedding planning. You felt, suddenly, very awake. That was today. Chapter Four, if you recalled correctly. The first official meeting between Cha Y/N, Sunghoon, and the wedding planner, Lee Soojin. The scene where the villainess would size up her rival with thinly-veiled contempt, make snide remarks about her choice of clothing, and generally establish herself as the obstacle to Sunghoon and Soojin’s true love.
Your stomach churned. You couldn’t do that. You physically couldn’t. The thought of being cruel to some innocent woman just trying to do her job made you feel ill.
But what was the alternative? If you weren’t the evil Cha Y/N, then who were you? A random office worker from another world, trapped in a fictional character’s body. If you started acting completely out of character, what would happen? Would the universe correct itself? Would you be thrown into a mental institution? Would Sunghoon’s powerful family have you quietly disposed of for being an unpredictable variable in their business merger masquerading as a marriage?
Panic, sharp and acrid, rose in your throat. You gripped the edge of the vanity table, your knuckles turning white. Think, Y/N. You have to think.
The original Cha Y/N’s fate was bankruptcy and social ruin after Sunghoon cut her off. She’d tried to fight it, to cling, to scheme, and it had only made her fall harder and more publicly.
So you had to survive. You couldn’t be that person. You wouldn’t. It was simple: do no harm, collect the checks, and get the hell out. Let Sunghoon and Soojin have their epic romance. You’d take the alimony and live quietly on a beach somewhere, far from this world of cutthroat socialites and emotionally constipated CEOs.
It was a coward’s plan, sure, but it was the only one that seemed to offer a path through this nightmare that didn’t end with you being publicly eviscerated.
You took a deep, shuddering breath and looked at the reflection again. “Okay, Cha Y/N,” you said to her. “Let’s do this.”
An hour later, you were in the back of a sleek, silent sedan, watching the city blur past. You’d chosen an outfit from the walk-in closet that felt the least like a costume and foregone most of the jewelry, wearing only small studs in your ears.
The driver held the door open for you in front of a towering glass skyscraper that seemed to pierce the clouds. The logo was etched into the side.
The lobby was cold and elegant, people in sharp suits moving with purpose across the vast marble floor, footsteps echoing everywhere. The receptionist, a woman with a smile as polished as the granite desk, took one look at you and nodded.
“Miss Cha. Mr. Park is expecting you. 67th floor, please.” She gestured to a private elevator whose doors were already sliding open.
The ride up was smooth and swift, and you watched the numbers climb, your heart doing a nervous tap-dance. The doors opened directly into a corner office.
The view was breathtaking, a panoramic sweep of the city and the river beyond. But the room itself was as cold as the man standing before the window, his back to you. He was tall, with broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, silhouetted against the bright sky. He wore a charcoal grey suit that looked like it had been tailored directly onto him.
Then he turned.
Park Sunghoon.
The description from the novel didn’t do him justice. He was handsome in a way that felt almost aggressive. Sharp jawline, dark, intense eyes under thick, perfectly shaped brows, hair styled in a way that looked effortless and expensive. But it was his expression that really hit you. There was no warmth in his gaze, no flicker of recognition or welcome for his fiancée. And how could you fault him? Cha Y/N had been a piece of work.
“You’re early,” he intoned.
“Looks like I am.” you managed, your own voice sounding too small.
He said nothing, just looked at you for a beat longer than was comfortable. Then he gestured with a faint tilt of his head toward a large meeting table off to the side. “Sit. The planner will be here shortly.”
You walked to the table, hyper-aware of the click of your heels on the polished concrete floor. You sat in the chair he’d indicated, folding your hands in your lap to keep them from trembling. He didn’t sit. He remained standing by the window, the picture of impatience and disinterest.
The silence stretched, and you studied the grain of the table, the way the sunlight caught the edge of a glass water pitcher. Anything to avoid looking at him.
You’d read about his coldness, of course you had. You’d found it thrilling in the abstract, a challenge for the heroine to overcome, but experiencing it firsthand was different. It was isolating. It made you feel invisible, inconsequential. You understood, with sudden, painful clarity, why the original Cha Y/N had become so obsessed with his wealth and status. If you couldn’t have his warmth, you’d settle for the things his name could buy. It was a pathetic, hollow consolation prize, but it must have been something to hold onto.
Another soft knock at the door.
“Enter,” Sunghoon said, not moving from his post.
The door opened, and a woman stepped in. She was around your age, maybe a year or two younger. She wore a simple, professional cream-colored blouse and a black skirt. Her hair was pulled back in a neat, low ponytail. She carried a large portfolio and an iPad.
Lee Soojin.
Your pulse quickened. The female lead. The woman who, according to the plot, you were supposed to torment.
She bowed slightly. “Mr. Park. Miss Cha. Thank you for having me. I’m Lee Soojin, from Ever After Planning.”
She was exactly as described, warm and beautiful. She had a kind, fresh face, warm brown eyes, and a smile that seemed genuine, though right now, it was tinged with nervousness as her gaze darted between you and the imposing figure of Sunghoon. She clutched a large portfolio to her chest like a shield.
“Please, come in,” Sunghoon said, and his voice was different, softer.
The meeting was awkward, to say the least. Soojin presented floral arrangements and color palettes, her voice occasionally trembling. You, desperate not to play the villain, said nothing except, “That looks lovely,” or “Whatever you think is best, Miss Lee.” You kept your eyes on the swatches, avoiding Sunghoon’s probing stare. You could feel it on you, a laser of suspicion. The real Y/N would have been picky and dismissive, finding fault with everything to assert dominance.
Sunghoon, surprisingly, engaged. He asked practical questions about logistics, timelines, vendor reliability. His questions were sharp and intelligent. Soojin, after a few stumbling starts, began to answer with growing confidence, her passion for her work shining through. You saw the exact moment he noticed it: a slight tilt of his head, a fraction of a second where his gaze lingered on her animated face instead of the brochure.
There it is, you thought, a strange pang hitting you square in the chest. The beginning. The plan was working.
But then he turned that gaze on you. “You’re not yourself today.” His tone was neutral, but the question in it was clear: What’s your deal?
You met his eyes for the first time that day. “Well,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. “Ms. Lee seems very competent. I just trust her expertise.”
He stared at you again, then gave a curt nod, turning back to Soojin, and the rest of the meeting passed in a blur.
THE MONTHS THAT FOLLOWED WERE A BIZARRE SORT OF DANCE. You attended obligatory social events on Sunghoon’s arm, fit the role of a silent, smiling accessory perfectly. You learned the rules of this world: who to nod to, who to ignore, which fork and knife to use where and why. And through it all, you were forced into proximity with Park Sunghoon.
At first, it was nothing but ice. Silent car rides, silent meals. You didn’t think there was ever a way to hold a conversation with Park Sunghoon. But survival instinct was a powerful thing when it kicked in, and the more nervous you got, the more your immediate instinct to be yourself began to show, especially once you moved in together.
The incident that started the thaw was, of all things, congee.
It was three weeks in. A late-night business dinner had left Sunghoon looking paler than usual, the sharp lines of his face drawn tight. You’d heard him return, the quiet click of the door, then nothing. An hour later, a faint, pained sound from the kitchen. You found him leaning against the island, one hand pressed to his stomach, staring into the empty fridge with blank eyes.
“Stomach ache?” you’d asked, hovering in the doorway.
He’d just grunted in response.
The real Y/N would have called for a maid, despite the ungodly hour. You, on the other hand, having grown up middle-class, were a veteran of questionable street food and late-night stress-eating, so you simply nudged him aside with your hip and rummaged through the pantry. “Sit,” you said, your tone brooking no argument. “You’re blocking the rice.”
He’d watched, silent and wary, as you boiled the rice into a soft mush, shredding the leftover roast chicken from yesterday’s dinner and adding slivers of ginger. The kitchen filled with a warm savory scent, and when you slid the bowl across the island to him, he looked at it like it was a foreign artefact.
“It’s just congee,” you said, suddenly self-conscious. “My mom used to make it when I was sick.”
He took a cautious spoonful. Then another. You had never cooked for someone before, but seeing the almost imperceptible relaxation of his shoulders, the way the tension drained out of his body, made you realize why your mother had loved it so much. When he was done, he placed the spoon neatly in the empty bowl and met your eyes. “It was nice. Thank you.”
You’d snorted. “High praise, coming from you.”
A brief flicker of a smile touched his lips. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
That was the crack in the ice, and after that, indifference became harder to maintain. The silent car rides began to fill with your commentary on the city passing by, or his dry observations about the people you’d just met at some function. Once, you found him one evening in the library, staring blankly at a contract, his tie loose. You’d placed a cup of tea next to his elbow without a word. He’d looked up, surprised, then nodded in thanks. Another time, you’d gotten locked out on the massive balcony during a sudden rain shower. He’d found you, drenched and laughing, and instead of chastising you, he’d handed you a towel with a shake of his head, a genuine, if exasperated, smile on his face. “Only you,” he’d muttered.
Then came the charity gala for the Seoul Arts Foundation. It was a stuffy, black-tie affair, and the champagne was flowing too freely. You, nervous under the scrutiny of a hundred socialites who knew the real Cha Y/N, drank more than you should have. Sunghoon, for reasons unknown, matched you glass for glass.
It was no surprise that the car ride home, inevitably, was filled with giddiness. You were slumped in the backseat, giggling at nothing, the city lights streaking past the window like liquid silver. He was beside you, his posture less rigid, a soft, unfocused smile on his face as he watched you.
“You’re different,” he said suddenly, his voice a low rumble in the dark car.
“Am I?” you hiccupped, turning to him. His face was so close. The sharp angles were softened in the shadows.
“Mm. Before. You were so… loud. Demanding. Everything was—all about money for you.” He reached out, his finger hovering near your temple, not touching. “But now…”
“Maybe I just grew up,” you offered, the lie tasting bitter.
He shook his head slowly, his eyes searching yours with an unnerving intensity. “No. It’s not that. It’s like you’re a completely different person.” He leaned closer, his breath warm and faintly sweet with champagne. “Who are you?”
Your heart hammered in your chest. The truth was a wild, desperate thing clawing at your throat. In your tipsy state, it slipped out, covered up in a joke. “Maybe I’m from a different universe,” you whispered, a playful, dizzy smile on your lips. “One where I’m not a horrible person.”
He stared at you. Then, to your utter astonishment, his lower lip pushed out in the faintest, most fleeting pout. You had never seen an expression so disarmingly childish and vulnerable on his face, but it was gone in a second, replaced by a slight scowl. “Stop messing with me,” he murmured, but there was no heat in it. He leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes, a small sigh escaping him.
The hangover the next morning was brutal, but at least it was a shared misery. You found him in the kitchen, grimacing over a glass of water, still in his rumpled dress shirt from the night before. You wordlessly made tea, and when you handed him a mug, your fingers brushed. He didn’t pull away.
Then you got sick.
It was a brutal flu, a personal betrayal from your own immune system. One day you were fine, the next, you were a shivering, aching heap buried under the duvet in your room. The maids fluttered in and out with tea and towels, but the apartment felt cold.
You drifted in a feverish haze, only semi-aware of the passage of time. But then—
You heard the firm, quiet tread of leather soles on parquet. The room darkened as a tall silhouette blocked the light from the hallway.
Sunghoon stood there, still in his work suit, his tie slightly loosened.
“The staff said you haven’t eaten,” he stated, his voice softer than usual.
“Can’t,” you croaked, turning your head into the pillow. “Everything hurts.”
You heard him set something down on the bedside table—a small tray. Then, to your shock, you felt the bed dip near your hip as he sat on the very edge of the mattress. You kept your eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm that had nothing to do with fever.
For a long, long while, all you could hear was your congested breathing. Then, a touch. Light, hesitant. Fingertips, surprisingly cool, brushing the sweat-dampened hair back from your forehead. The gesture was so tender, so utterly at odds with the Park Sunghoon you knew, that your breath hitched. His fingers stilled for a second, thinking he’d woken you. When you didn’t move, they continued, tucking the hair gently behind your ear.
He didn’t say a word. He just sat there, his hand eventually coming to rest, palm down, on the duvet beside your shoulder. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he stood up. You heard the faint clink of a spoon against ceramic. “There’s broth here when you can manage it,” he murmured.
He worked from the armchair next to your bed that day, the quiet tap of his laptop keys a strangely comforting sound. He’d glance over every so often, refilling your water glass without being asked. It was the most mundane kind of care, but it made your heart squeeze. No one in this glittering, fake world had taken care of you like that. It felt more intimate than any kiss the novel had described between him and Soojin.
Life settled into a strange, peaceful rhythm that was nothing like the plot you remembered. You weren’t friends, not exactly. But you were… something. Allies due to the nature of your situation, perhaps. Your conversations became longer. You discovered he had a dry, wicked sense of humor that only emerged when he was truly relaxed. You learned he hated mint chocolate and loved coffee-flavored ice-cream. And then, one evening, you were in his study, looking for a book he’d said was in there. Your fingers trailed over the spines on a high shelf when you knocked a small, ornate wooden box to the floor. It sprung open, spilling its contents: not jewelry or documents, but a handful of old, laminated badges and a single, well-worn ice skate blade guard.
Curious, you picked up a badge. Seoul Junior Figure Skating Championship, 1st Place, Park Sunghoon, Age 12. Another: National Youth Competition, Finalist. There were photos, too. A young boy with solemn eyes and a shock of dark hair, poised on the ice, his arms outstretched. The resemblance was unmistakable.
You were staring at a photo of him, gap-toothed, holding a trophy with a rare, bright, unguarded smile, when his voice came from the doorway.
“What are you doing?”
You jumped, the photo fluttering from your hand. He was leaning against the doorframe, his expression closed off, but you saw the flicker of something—embarrassment? pain?—in his eyes before the shutters came down.
“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, gathering the items with clumsy hands. “I knocked the box over. I didn’t mean to pry.” You held up one of the badges. “You were a figure skater?”
He walked in, taking the badge from your fingers. He looked at it for a long moment, his thumb tracing the raised lettering. “It was a long time ago.”
“Why did you stop?” The question was out before you could stop it.
He didn’t answer immediately. He carefully placed the badge back in the box, his movements precise. “My father,” he said finally, his voice flat. “He decided it was a frivolous pursuit for the heir of Park Holdings. That it wouldn’t build the ruthlessness required for business.” A humorless twist of his lips. “I suppose he was right, in a way.”
The sadness in his tone made you inexplicably upset. You thought of the cold, ruthless CEO you’d read about, the one who only melted for one person. You were seeing the fossil of the boy who had been melted down and reforged into that man.
On an impulse you didn’t fully understand, you spoke. “When was the last time you were on the ice?”
He looked at you, startled. “I don’t know. Over ten years?”
“We should go.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Ice skating. We should go. There’s that new private rink at your country club. We could rent it out. No one would have to know.”
He stared at you as if you’d suggested flying to the moon. “That’s absurd.”
“Is it?” You pressed, a sudden boldness rising in you. “You loved it once. Don’t you ever… you know, miss it? Just the feeling of it?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. He looked from your face to the open box, to the photo of his younger, smiling self. The conflict in his eyes was a war you could almost see play out in front of you. Finally, he let out a slow breath. “That’s a pointless thing to do.”
But he didn’t say no.
Two days later, his assistant quietly booked the rink for a private two-hour session at midnight. He didn’t mention it to you. You only found out when a note, written in his sharp, elegant script, was left on the kitchen island next to your keys: 8 PM. Dress warm.
An hour later, you were in the empty rink, feeling utterly ridiculous in brand-new thermals. Sunghoon was already laced up, moving with a natural grace as he carved a slow circle on the pristine ice. He made it look effortless. You, on the other hand, sat on the bench, fumbling with the laces. Your fingers felt thick and clumsy. After a minute of struggle, you felt the bench dip beside you. He didn’t ask. He just took the skate from your hands, his fingers brushing yours.
“You have to tie them tightly. Ankle support is everything.”
He bent his head, his dark hair falling slightly over his forehead as he began to lace the boot for you, his movements sure and careful. You watched, mesmerized by the sight of Park Sunghoon’s elegant, powerful hands, the ones that signed countless deals, meticulously tying a double knot for you. It felt impossibly tender. Then he did the same with the other foot, his knuckles accidentally brushing the sensitive skin of your ankle. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold raced up your spine.
“There,” he said, looking up and meeting your eyes. “Now, stand up. Slowly.”
You did, taking one wobbly step onto the surface, and immediately felt your legs betray you. You windmilled your arms, a squeak escaping your throat.
“Careful, careful,” A strong hand closed around your elbow, steadying you. “Bend your knees. Not at the waist.”
“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled, but you bent your knees. His hand stayed on your arm, a firm, warm anchor.
“Now, glide. Don’t step.”
You pushed off, lurching forward. He moved with you, a silent, steady presence at your side. For the first ten minutes, it was a comedy of errors. You wobbled, you slipped, you clutched at his forearm with a grip that probably cut off his circulation. And through it all, he was patient. Surprisingly, infuriatingly patient.
“You’re thinking too much,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice as you stared at your feet in concentration.
“I’m thinking about not concussing myself on this ice!”
“Look at me. Not at your feet.”
You dragged your gaze up to his face. In the cool, bright light of the rink, he looked younger. The usual severity in his expression was softened.
“Better,” he said. “Now, just move with me.”
He took your hands in his, skating backwards and pulling you along. It was terrifying and thrilling. The world narrowed to the sound of blades on ice, the puff of your breath in the cold air, and the solid, reliable grip of his hands. You started to find a shaky rhythm.
“See?” he said, and you realized he was smiling. A real, proper smile that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. It transformed his face completely. Your heart did a funny little stutter that had nothing to do with skating.
“Don’t let me fall,” you said, the words coming out in a soft, breathless rush.
His grip tightened almost imperceptibly. He never looked away from your eyes. “I won’t.”
He guided you around the rink until your legs burned and your cheeks were numb with cold and laughter. Then, he demonstrated a simple spin, a blur of controlled motion that left you gaping. When he stopped, perfectly centered, he was breathing slightly harder, his face flushed.
He looked alive.
“Show-off,” you called, pushing off the wall to glide clumsily toward him.
He caught you easily when you overbalanced, his hands coming to rest on your hips to steady you. You were suddenly, acutely aware of the closeness. The heat of his body through the layers of clothing. The way his thumbs were pressing just above the waistband of your leggings. His face was inches from yours, his breath warm against your cold skin. His eyes were dark and searching.
You looked up at him, your own laughter dying in your throat. The rink was silent except for the hum of the chillers. For a heartbeat that felt like forever, neither of you moved. You could see the faint scar on his brow, the dark fringe of his lashes, the part of his lips as he breathed.
Then, a distant door clanged. The spell broke. He released your hips, his hands falling back to his sides as he took a small half-step back. “You’re getting the hang of it,” he said, his voice returning to its usual register, though it was a shade rougher and, if you listened hard enough, breathier.
All the way home, you replayed the moment at the rink over and over, the feel of his hands on you. It sparked a low, restless heat in your belly that was becoming frustratingly familiar.
That very heat continued to follow you, and it was driving you crazy. In the mornings, when he’d emerge from his bathroom, a towel slung low on his hips, his hair damp, his torso a landscape of lean muscle and faint scars you itched to trace. You’d mutter a good morning and flee to the kitchen, your face hot. Once, you came out of your room in just a thin camisole and pajamas to get water, forgetting he was working late at the dining table. The look he gave you—a slow, sweeping gaze that felt like a physical touch—had you scurrying back to your room, your skin prickling with awareness. You’d lie in your bed, in the dark, and imagine him in his room just down the hall. Was he asleep? Reading? Thinking about the company? Thinking about… you? Your mind would wander, unbidden, to the feel of his hands on your waist at the rink. To the solid heat of him when you’d stumbled against his chest. To the way his sweatpants hung on his hips. And then a slow, aching warmth would pool low in your belly, and you’d press your thighs together, frustrated and aroused in equal measure.
This was not part of the plan. Getting horny for your emotionally unavailable contract-fiancé was the fastest way to get your heart pulverized.
A WEEK LATER, SUNGHOON INFORMED YOU, OVER A BREAKFAST OF PERFECTLY POACHED EGGS, THAT YOU WOULD BE MEETING HIS FRIENDS.
“Friends?” you’d echoed, nearly choking on your toast. The novel’s Sunghoon had only business associates, rivals, and sycophants. Friends were never part of it.
“Yes,” he said, not looking up from his tablet. “Park Jongseong and Shim Jaeyun. They’re very insistent. They want to meet you badly.” He said it dryly, but you caught the slightest tension in his shoulders. “It’s a dinner on Friday, at Jay’s.”
Friday arrived, and with it, a low-cut dress that felt both too much and not enough. Sunghoon was silent in the elevator ride up, his profile sharp in the dim light. But when the doors opened into a sprawling, modern loft filled with the smell of gourmet food and the sound of jazz, his posture shifted. He placed a light, guiding hand on the small of your back.
“Sunghoon! You made it!” A man with a charming, lopsided grin and artfully messy hair bounded over, pulling Sunghoon into a brief, back-slapping hug. Jake, you guessed. His eyes, warm and curious, immediately landed on you. “And you must be the infamous Y/N.” He winked.
Another man approached, slightly taller, with a more composed elegance but a friendly glint in his eye. Jay, of course. He shook your hand firmly. “A pleasure. Come in, make yourself at home.”
The evening was nothing like the functions you’d gotten used to over the last few months, and you found that your initial nervousness bled away easily. Jay was dry and witty, Jake was sweet and genuinely funny. They teased Sunghoon mercilessly about anything and everything, and to your astonishment, he took it. He even smiled a real, relaxed smile that made your heart do that stupid little flip again.
And the best part was, they talked to you. Not to Cha Y/N, the socialite fiancée, but to you. Jay asked about your opinion on the new exhibition at the National Museum, and you found yourself in a debate about Norman Rockwell. Jake, hearing you hum along to the jazz track, pulled you into a conversation about it. You were in your element, laughing, arguing. You forgot, for a moment, the character you were supposed to be playing.
You also forgot to watch Sunghoon.
He had turned quiet, observing from his seat on the plush sofa, a glass of whiskey cradled in his hand. At first, you thought he was just back to being his usual reserved self. But as the night wore on and your laughter grew more frequent, you began to feel it—a tension emanating from him. When Jake leaned in to refill your wine glass, his hand brushing yours as he pointed to a particular album cover on the shelf, you felt Sunghoon’s gaze on you like a hand.
A few minutes later, when you got up to admire the view of the rolling countryside from the windows, Jake followed, standing close beside you to point things out. “There,” he said, his shoulder almost touching yours, “that’s where Sunghoon and I got hopelessly lost on a school trip. He was too stubborn to ask for directions. We nearly froze to death.”
You laughed, turning to him. “I can picture that.”
“Picture what?”
Sunghoon’s voice was quiet, right behind you. You hadn’t heard him approach. He slid between you and Jake with a smooth, deliberate movement. His arm came around your waist, his hand settling on your hip, pulling you back against him.
“Just reminiscing about your navigational failures,” Jake said, his grin not fading, but his eyes flicking between Sunghoon’s face and the hand on your waist.
“Mm,” Sunghoon murmured, his breath stirring the hair near your ear. His thumb moved, a slow, unconscious stroke against your dress. “Don’t believe a word he says. He was the one who dropped our map in the mud and got us lost in the first place.”
Despite the conversation not dying out, Sunghoon kept you anchored to his side, his fingers splayed on your hip, the warmth of his chest against your shoulder. Sunghoon’s interjections became more frequent in your interactions with Jay and Jake, his dry remarks steering the conversation away from anything that involved you and his friends directly interacting.
You couldn't say you didn’t expect that the journey back would be shrouded in a heavy silence. Sunghoon stared out the window, his jaw tight.
“Did you have a good time?” he finally asked, his voice devoid of inflection.
“I did,” you said carefully. “They’re lovely.”
“They seemed to think the same of you.” The words were clipped.
You turned to look at his profile. “Is that a problem?”
He didn’t answer. He just kept looking out at the passing lights, the muscle in his jaw working. The possessiveness he’d shown at the penthouse was gone, replaced by this cold, withdrawn sulk. It was so childish, and so utterly at odds with the man in the novel, who wouldn’t have batted an eye if the original Y/N had flirted with an entire football team. He’d found her disgusting, but he hadn’t cared. He’d been indifferent.
This wasn’t indifference.
The realization sent a dangerous thrill through you, followed immediately by a wave of guilt. You were messing with the script, and you had no idea what the new plot was.
Back at home, he headed straight for his study without a word. You stood in the grand living room, feeling unmoored. The heat from his touch still lingered on your skin, but the silent treatment felt worse than any cold remark. You took a deep breath and followed him.
He was standing by the window, a dark silhouette against the city’s glitter.
“Sunghoon.”
He didn’t turn.
You walked closer, your heels silent on the rug. “Are you angry with me?”
“No.” The word was short, final.
“You seem like it.”
He finally turned. In the dim light from the window, his expression was unreadable. “I’m not angry. I just don’t appreciate your…” he pretended to think. “Acting.”
“Acting?”
“The laughing. The leaning in. The wide-eyed interest in everything they said.” His tone was low, edged with something you couldn’t understand. “It was a bit much, don’t you think?”
A flash of irritation burst through you. “I was being polite. And for your information, I was genuinely interested. They’re good people, it was a normal conversation.”
“It didn’t look normal from where I was sitting.” He took a step closer. The air between you crackled. “Looked like you were enjoying their attention a little too much.”
You closed the remaining distance between you, stopping just an arm’s length away. You looked up at him, at the storm in his gray eyes. “Sunghoon,” you said, your voice tender. “They’re your friends. I was nice to them because they’re important to you. That’s all.”
But if anything, your softness seemed to make it worse.
A low, frustrated sound escaped him. He finally turned, but not to look at you. His gaze swept over his desk, the neat stacks of papers, as if searching for an escape. “That’s not the point,” he said, his voice clipped and cold.
The aching in your chest curdled into a sharp spike of annoyance. You’d spent the entire evening navigating his unpredictable moods, from his possessive display at Jay’s to this petulant silence. You’d offered an olive branch, and he was swatting it away.
“Then what is the point, Sunghoon?” you asked, the calm in your voice beginning to fray. “Because from where I’m standing, you invited me to meet the only people in your life who seem to actually like you, I had a genuinely pleasant conversation with them, and now you’re treating me like I’ve committed some kind of crime. So, please, enlighten me. What exactly did I do wrong? Was my laugh too loud? Were my interests too provocative?”
He flinched, just a tiny tightening around his eyes, but it was enough. He looked at you then, and the storm in his brown eyes was now a cold front. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” he said, the accusation falling like a blade. “You have this—” he ran his hands through his hair. “This way. You turn it on and off. For the press, for my employees, for my friends. That wide-eyed fascination. That laugh that makes men feel like they’re the wittiest person in the world. It’s an act. And a very convincing one, apparently.”
The accusation was so absurd, so wildly off-base, that for a second you were speechless. He was describing the original Y/N. Not you. You’d forgotten to act tonight.
That was the whole problem.
Your own frustration boiled over. “You are impossible, Sunghoon,” you stated, the words leaving your lips before you could temper them. “And you’re not even making sense. You’re jealous of your own friends for having a regular conversation with me. Do you hear yourself?”
You didn’t wait for an answer. The conversation was going in circles, spiraling into a void where his logic couldn’t follow. The warmth of the evening, the feeling of connection with Jake and Jay, the heat of his hand on your hip—it was all being poisoned by this stubborn, childish sulk. You were tired. The emotional whiplash was exhausting.
“You know what? Forget it,” you said, turning on your heel. The silk of your dress whispered against your legs as you strode toward the study door. “I’m going to bed. You can stand here and brood at the skyline all night for all I care.”
You reached for the polished brass handle, your fingers closing around the cool metal. You pulled.
The door didn’t budge.
A large, warm hand was splayed flat against the dark wood, just above your head, holding it shut. You hadn’t heard him move, but he was right there behind you, his body warm. The scent of his cologne enveloped you. You froze, your breath catching in your throat.
“Wait.”
His voice was close, right by your ear. It had lost its icy edge. Now it was just rough, scraped raw.
You didn’t turn. You stared at the grain of the wood, at his long fingers pressed white-knuckled against it. “Let me go, Sunghoon.”
“I said wait.” The hand on the door slid down, his arm now caging you in, his chest not quite touching your back but you could feel the heat of him through the thin layers of your dress and his shirt. “Just—please. Wait a moment.”
The fight drained out of you, replaced by a shaky, breathless awareness. You leaned your forehead lightly against the door, closing your eyes. “Why?”
A long pause. You could hear his breathing, slightly uneven. “Because you’re right,” he said, the words so quiet you almost didn’t hear them. “I’m being impossible.”
You blinked, your eyes still closed.
Huh?
He continued, the words coming out in a reluctant, stilted rush, as if being forced past a great internal resistance. “It wasn’t an act. I could see that. Tonight. With them.” He took a deep breath, his chest expanding behind you. “You were—yourself. And they liked you. Jake was practically hanging on your every word about that absurd painting with the floating clocks.”
“Dali,” you murmured automatically.
“Yes, Dali.” he echoed. He shifted, his arm brushing against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. “The point is…” he cleared his throat. “I’m not used to it.”
“To what? To people liking your fiancée?”
“To caring if they do,” he admitted. “To watching it happen and feeling like I…” He trailed off. “It’s unfamiliar. And I handled it poorly. I apologize.”
The formal, stiff apology was so like him, yet the vulnerability laced through it was entirely new. The annoyance melted away, leaving that strange, aching tenderness in its place.
You finally turned, slowly, under the arch of his arm. You had to tilt your head back to look at him. In the dim light, his handsome face was all sharp angles and shadow, but his eyes… they held a turmoil you’d never seen before.
“You were jealous,” you said, not as an accusation, but as a simple, gentle observation.
He held your gaze for a long moment, then looked away, his jaw working. A faint, almost imperceptible flush touched the high points of his cheeks. “I was. It was… illogical.”
“A little,” you agreed, a small smile touching your lips. “They’re your best friends. Jake looks at you like you hung the moon. Jay clearly adores you. They were just being kind to me because I’m with you.”
He looked back at you, searching your face. “You’re not upset?”
“I was annoyed,” you said honestly. “Because you were being a grumpy, silent statue and it was confusing. But I’m not upset.” You reached up, tentatively, and placed a hand lightly on his chest, over his sternum. You could feel the steady, strong beat of his heart beneath your palm. “It’s okay to feel things, Sunghoon. Even if they’re messy and confusing and don’t make sense.”
He stared down at your hand on his chest, then his gaze lifted to yours. His brows were knitted upwards. “I don’t know how to do this,” he said, the words so quiet they were almost swallowed by the room.
“Do what?”
“Any of it.” The admission seemed to unlock something. The words started to tumble out, low and rushed. “This. Having someone here. Someone who—who argues with me and really listens to me and doesn’t look at my friends as potential social climbing opportunities. Someone who gets annoyed when I’m being an ass instead of just simpering. And then seeing you with them, so natural, so easy… it felt like you fit. You fit into a part of my life that has nothing to do with mergers or board meetings. And I didn’t know what to do with that. I still don’t. It’s—well, it’s kind of unsettling. It’s ridiculous. I know it’s ridiculous. Jay would laugh himself sick if he knew. He’s probably already guessed. He’s annoyingly perceptive about these things. Which is another problem, because now I’ll have to hear about it for weeks, and he’ll make some comment about me being emotionally stunted, which is technically accurate but still rude to point out, especially when I’m the one usually paying for his overpriced whiskey—”
He was rambling. Park Sunghoon, the master of terse, cutting remarks, was rambling.
You let out a breathy, incredulous little giggle.
He stopped mid-sentence, his brows drawing together again. “What?”
You shook your head, your smile widening. “Nothing. It’s just… you’re cute when you’re flustered.”
He blinked. Cute. You were certain no one had ever used that word to describe Park Sunghoon in his entire life. A series of emotions flickered across his face: disbelief, offense, and then a dawning, bewildered wonder. The faint blush on his cheeks deepened.
“I am not,” he stated, but the protest sounded almost petulant.
“You are a little,” you insisted, your thumb making a small, unconscious circle on his shirt. “All this big, brooding energy because your friends and your fake fiancée got along too well. It’s adorable.”
He stared at you, utterly disarmed. The hand that wasn’t braced against the door came up, hesitated, then gently brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face. His touch was feather-light, tentative. “You’re the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met,” he murmured.
“I know,” you whispered back.
Your eyes dropped to his lips, then flicked back up to his. His gaze was locked on your mouth. For one heart-stopping second, you thought he might kiss you. The air grew thick, your breath coming shorter. His head dipped slightly, his eyes darkening—
—but then he stopped. He closed his eyes, took a deep, shuddering breath, and straightened. The moment shattered.
His hand fell from your face, and he took a small, deliberate step back.
He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at you. “Go to bed,” he said, his voice rough, scraping over the words. “We have the drive to my parents’ estate tomorrow.”
THE PARK FAMILY ESTATE WAS LESS A HOUSE AND MORE A DISPLAY OF WEALTH. It was all severe lines, imported stone, and meticulously manicured gardens that looked like no one was allowed to walk in them. The air itself felt several degrees cooler when you stepped out of the car.
Sunghoon’s father, Chairman Park, was exactly as the novel had foretold: a man carved from glacier ice, a crueller, harsher version of Sunghoon. His greeting was a curt nod, his eyes assessing you. His mother, on the other hand, was far more complex. She was elegant, with a smile that reached her eyes but didn't quite warm them, and she welcomed you gracefully, complimenting your dress, asking after the wedding plans with a tone of mild interest.
Dinner was a silent, formal affair. The clink of silverware against fine china was deafening. Chairman Park grilled Sunghoon on work, dismissing his answers with grunts. He ignored you completely. Mrs. Park attempted lighter conversation, asking you about your family, your interests. You answered as blandly as possible, sticking to the script you imagined the original Y/N would have used: mentions of charitable boards, designer names.
“You must be so excited for the wedding, dear,” Mrs. Park said as dessert was served, a fragile porcelain cup of tea placed before her. “It’s such a wonderful opportunity to solidify your future.”
You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yes, of course.”
“Sunghoon tells me you’ve been spending a lot of time together since you’ve started living together. Getting to know each other.” Her smile remained, but her eyes were sharp and beady. “That’s good. A strong foundation of… understanding is so important in these arrangements.”
At the word ‘arrangement’, Sunghoon, beside you, went very still.
After dinner, Mrs. Park suggested a walk in the garden. “The roses are in bloom, Y/N. Come, let’s get some air.”
It wasn’t a suggestion. You followed her out into the twilight, the scent of roses indeed thick and almost cloying. She walked in silence for a while along a gravel path that wound past sculpted hedges and a large koi pond.
“You are a very different girl from the reports I received,” she began, her voice conversational. “The Y/N we researched was rather more acquisitive. I thought that before, you knew what this marriage was.” She turned to you. “A strategic alliance for your family’s benefit and for the stability of ours.”
You kept your eyes on the path, your stomach knotting.
“But it seems this new version of you,” she continued, stopping by the pond to watch the orange and white shapes glide beneath the water’s surface. “Is quite confusing for my son, I think. He is a man who values clarity. He understands transactions.” She turned to you, her smile still perfectly in place. “Your job, my dear, is to be a compliant partner and an asset to him. Not to… confuse him by making him question the nature of the transaction.”
The gentleness in her tone made the words cut deeper. “I’m not trying to confuse him,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Aren’t you?” she asked, tilting her head. She let out a soft, pitying sigh. “You’re forgetting your place. This is a business arrangement. When the time is right, and his position is unassailable, you will both go your separate ways with the agreed-upon compensation. Any emotional complication is a breach of contract.” She placed a cold, delicate hand on your arm. “Do not make the mistake of believing this is a love story, Y/N. Remember who you are. And more importantly, remember who he is.”
Your head was spinning.
She gave your arm a faint pat. “I’ll leave you to enjoy the pond. Do find your way back before it gets too dark.”
She walked away, her footsteps silent on the gravel, leaving you alone by the darkening water.
The dam broke.
Tears, hot and shameful, welled up and spilled over. She was right. Of course she was right. You were an imposter in every sense. An imposter in this body, in this life, and now, an imposter in your own feelings. You were muddying the waters of a simple deal, risking everything for a man who was made to love someone else. The sobs came then, quiet and wrenching, your shoulders shaking as you stared blindly at the koi, your tears making small splashes in the pond.
You didn’t hear his approach. You only sensed a presence, and you quickly wiped your cheeks with the backs of your hands, turning your face away.
“Y/N?”
Sunghoon’s voice, close. Panic spiked inside you.
You couldn’t let him see.
“I’m fine,” you choked out, your voice thick. “Just—um. Admiring the pond. Give me a minute.”
“Look at me.”
“No, really, I’m—”
“Y/N.” His voice was low, but it was a command nonetheless. “Look at me.”
Slowly, you turned. The last of the twilight caught the tracks of your tears, glistening on your skin. His expression, which had been carefully neutral when he found you, shattered. His eyes widened, then darkened with fury.
“What did she say to you?” The question was a soft, deadly thing.
You shook your head, fresh tears falling. “Nothing. She didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”
“Tell me.” He took a step closer.
“She just—just reminded me of my place,” you whispered, the words tasting like ash. “That this is just an arrangement. That I shouldn’t… forget what it is. That I’m—I’m confusing you. And she’s right, Sunghoon, I am. I’m messing it all up, and I’m—” you sniffed. “I’m so sorry—”
“Stop.” The word was a whip-crack. He closed the final distance, his hands coming up to frame your face. His thumbs brushed the tears from your cheeks. “She has no right. No right to speak to you like that.”
“She does,” you cried, the frustration and heartbreak pouring out. “This is her world! These are her rules! I’m just a temporary fixture, and I’m acting like—like I’m something else. I’m sorry for being confusing. I’m sorry for the skating and the congee and for talking to your friends and for just… for just being here all wrong!”
You were babbling, tears streaming freely now. You tried to pull away, but he didn’t let you. Instead, he pulled you into his chest.
One arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, the other hand cradled the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair. He held you firmly, securely, as you cried into the crisp cotton of his shirt. He didn’t shush you. He didn’t tell you it would be okay. He just held you, his chin resting on the top of your head.
“Y/N,” he murmured into your hair. “You are the only thing that has made any sense in a very, very long time.”
You clung to him, your fists bunching in the fabric of his shirt. His hand moved from your head to stroke your hair, slow, calming strokes. You could feel the steady, strong beat of his heart against your cheek, and the last of your resistance melted away, and you sank into the embrace, letting him hold the pieces of you together.
You stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped in the silence of the garden and the sanctuary of his arms. The tears eventually subsided, leaving you hollowed out and shaky. He didn’t let go until finally, you took a ragged, shuddering breath. He leaned back just enough to look down at you, his hands moving to cup your face again. His thumbs wiped away the last of the moisture on your cheeks. His eyes searched yours.
“We’re leaving,” he said.
He kept one arm around you, guiding you firmly back toward the monstrous house, not to say goodbye to his parents, but straight to the car. He opened the passenger door for you, got in the driver’s side, started the engine, and pulled away from the estate without a backward glance.
You looked out the window, watching the dark countryside blur past, feeling the ghost of his arms around you, the sensation of his fingers in your hair. Your skin still tingled where he’d touched you. Then you snuck a glance at his profile, lit by the dashboard lights. His jaw was set, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but the cold fury had settled into a deep, simmering resolve. He had chosen a side. And for tonight, at least, he had chosen yours.
Though, of course, life humbled you. Confusion had to come from the other side of the equation: Lee Soojin.
The wedding planning continued as normal. You made a point of being pleasant, supportive even. You praised her ideas, deferred to her taste. You were the dream client, and her initial nervousness around you melted into a warm, professional respect. You liked her. She was kind, hardworking, genuinely talented.
And Sunghoon always noticed her. It was natural that he did—that was how it was meant to go. In meetings, he was engaged, asking questions, offering solutions. You’d catch him watching her as she meticulously arranged sample centerpieces, a considering look on his face. Once, when she dropped a binder, he was out of his chair in an instant to help her gather the scattered papers. Their hands brushed. You saw the faint pink that tinged Soojin’s cheeks, the way she couldn’t quite meet his eyes afterward, and the jealousy brewing in the pit of your stomach almost became acidic.
It was exactly as the novel said. The cold CEO, melted by the genuine warmth of the commoner. You’d see them talking quietly in a corner of his office after a meeting had officially ended, and that strange pang would hit your chest again.
THE WORST WAS THE DAY OF THE FINAL VENUE WALKTHROUGH. You’d arrived separately from Sunghoon, caught in a snarl of downtown traffic.
The location was a stunning, glass-walled conservatory overlooking the river. By the time you rushed through the arched entrance, the late afternoon sun was casting long shadows across the polished floor.
You saw them before they saw you.
They were at the far end of the conservatory, standing on a temporary wooden platform that marked where the altar would be. Lee Soojin was pointing towards the ceiling, explaining something about hanging floral installations, her face animated with passion. And Sunghoon…
Sunghoon was listening. Not just listening, but absorbing it all. He stood beside her, his hands in the pockets of his trousers, his head tilted slightly toward her. The sunlight streamed through the glass panes, catching the dust motes in the air and painting them both in a soft, golden glow.
It was a perfect picture. The ambitious, brilliant CEO and the creative, warm-hearted wedding planner. He was asking a question, his expression serious but open, and Soojin smiled, gesturing with her hands as she answered.
You could see it, the rows of chairs filled with Seoul’s elite. The live music swelling. Soojin, in a simple, beautiful dress that wasn’t the one you’d picked, walking down this very aisle. And Sunghoon, waiting for her right there, on that platform, his brown eyes fixed only on her. The image was so vivid that it stole the breath from your lungs. Your chest constricted, a sharp ache that had nothing to do with the hurried walk from the car.
This was it. The real beginning of the end for Cha Y/N.
Sunghoon’s gaze finally flickered away from Soojin and landed on you, standing frozen in the doorway. The open, engaged expression on his face closed down, smoothed into the more familiar, neutral mask. He straightened up.
“You’re late.”
“Traffic,” you said, your voice sounding brittle and thin to your own ears. You forced a smile, directing it at Soojin, who had turned and was now offering you a polite, slightly nervous bow. “Sorry, Miss Lee. Please, show me what you’ve finalized.”
You walked forward, your heels clicking a sharp, lonely rhythm on the stone. As you passed Sunghoon to join Soojin by the platform, he did something unexpected. He reached out and briefly, almost absently, tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers were cool against your heated skin. “You look flushed,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Did you run?”
The gesture was so intimate. A week ago, it might have sent a thrill through you. Now, it just felt like salt in the wound. He’s just playing his part, a vicious voice in your head whispered. The attentive fiancé in front of the help. It doesn’t mean anything. He was just looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world.
“Just the heat,” you lied, pulling away slightly, your smile feeling more like a grimace.
The rest of the walkthrough was agony. You nodded and agreed to everything Soojin proposed: the arch of white orchids, the string quartet placement, the timing for the sunset ceremony. But you felt like a spectator haunting your own life. Your responses were automatic. “Lovely.” “Perfect.” “Whatever you think is best.”
You watched Sunghoon and Soojin discuss the practicalities. Lighting cues for the photographer, the route for the caterers, backup plans for rain. Their rapport was seamless. He’d ask a sharp, logistical question, and she’d have a thoughtful, prepared answer. He’d nod, a flicker of approval in his eyes, and suggest a minor refinement. She’d consider it, then agree with a bright, “Yes, that’s much more efficient!” Every shared titter over a hiccup, every moment of unspoken understanding as they examined a floor plan, felt like a tiny paper cut on your heart. A hundred small, insignificant slices that left you feeling quietly, profoundly bloody.
As she got to her binder, Soojin tripped slightly on a loose cable snaking across the floor. Sunghoon’s hand shot out, steadying her by the elbow. “Careful,” he said, his voice soft.
“Oh! Thank you, Mr. Park,” Soojin stammered, her cheeks flushing a pretty, delicate pink again. She quickly righted herself, but her gaze lingered on his face for a second too long before she busied herself with her clipboard.
You looked away, your throat tight.
A little while later, as you were examining sample table linens, Sunghoon stood close behind you, leaning over your shoulder to point at a fabric swatch in Soojin’s hand. His chest brushed against your back. “I like the ivory better, not the stark white,” he said, his voice a soft rumble near your ear. “It’ll be less harsh under the lights.”
You stiffened, every nerve ending hyper-aware.
“Yes,” you managed to whisper. “Okay. The ivory is better.”
He stayed there for a moment longer than necessary, and then he straightened up, the warmth leaving your back.
The walkthrough concluded with polite bows and assurances. Soojin promised to have the revised layouts emailed by the morning. Sunghoon gave a curt nod. “Your work is impressive, Miss Lee. Thank you.”
The praise, so directly given, made Soojin beam. “Thank you, Mr. Park! I won’t let you down.”
No, you thought, the ache in your chest deepening. You certainly won’t.
That night, back in the penthouse, you were curled on the vast living room sofa, a book (decidedly not a romance) open but unread on your lap. You were replaying the image of them by the window, trying to quash the hollow feeling it left behind. This was the plan. This was what you wanted. For them to fall in love, for the story to proceed, so you could leave.
So why did it feel like this?
You heard his footsteps first, then the subtle shift in the air as he entered the room. He didn’t sit. He came to stand behind the sofa, looking down at you. You kept your eyes on your book, but you could feel his gaze like a physical touch, tracing the line of your shoulder, the curve of your neck where your hair had fallen away.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice dropping into that lower register that seemed reserved for these late-night moments.
You swallowed. “Nothing. Just tired.”
The lie hung in the air. He was quiet for a long moment. You could almost hear him weighing his next move. Then, you felt the cushion dip slightly as he leaned forward, his hands coming to rest on the back of the sofa, one on either side of you.
“You’ve been quiet since the venue,” he stated, his voice a soft rumble near your ear. “Was it something Miss Lee said?”
The mention of her name was like a splash of cold water. You closed your book with a soft snap. “No. She was perfect. Everything is perfect.” You made to get up, to escape to the safety of your room.
A hand, firm and warm, landed on your shoulder, gently pressing you back down. “Y/N.”
You froze. He almost never used your name. It was always “you,” or “Miss Cha” in formal settings. The sound of it in his voice, so close, did something dangerous to your insides.
“Look at me.”
Slowly, you turned your head to look up at him. He was leaning over the back of the sofa, his face serious, his storm-cloud eyes searching yours. The distance between your faces was less than a foot. You could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the slight pulse at the base of his throat. Your breath caught.
“I don’t believe you,” he said softly
Fine, you wanted to say. Something did happen. The entire plot of a trashy romance novel happened. And I saw you smiling at her, and it’s supposed to happen, but it feels all wrong now.
“I mean it,” you said instead. “It’s nothing. Really.” You offered him a weak smile. “Just pre-wedding jitters, I guess.”
He studied your face for a long moment, his own unreadable. Then he nodded slowly, not looking convinced. He reached out, and for a heart-stopping second, you thought he might touch your face. But his hand just brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead, the contact brief.
“Okay. Get some rest,” he said, his voice quiet. He stood and left the room, leaving you alone with the echo of his touch and the churning confusion in your gut.
Here lay the entire problem: the more you saw of the real Park Sunghoon, the more the fictional version paled in comparison. The attraction you’d felt for a character became a terrifyingly real pull towards the living, breathing man. You’d catch yourself watching him, a hollow ache blooming in your chest, before violently shoving the feeling down. He’s not for you. This story isn’t yours. His happiness is with Soojin
The pang in your chest was no longer alien, it was a constant, dull companion. And it was your cue to exit, stage left.
Enough. You had played your part. You had been harmless. You had, against all odds, built something resembling a civil friendship with the male lead. Now it was time to give him his freedom, take your cushy payout, and vanish. You had your lawyer draw up a simple, clean, no-fault dissolution of the engagement agreement, and then you requested a meeting in his office. The same office where you’d first met Soojin.
HE WAS AT HIS DESK, BUT HE WASN’T WORKING. He was waiting for you, leaning back in his chair, watching you as you entered. The afternoon light slanted across the room, splashing everything in gold and shadow.
“You wanted to see me,” he said. His voice was deceptively casual, but his posture was alert.
You managed a nod, your throat suddenly dry. The leather folder in your hand felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
He pushed off the desk and closed the distance between you in a few unhurried strides. Before you could step back or offer a handshake—any kind of businesslike gesture—his arm slid around your waist, pulling you gently against him. He dipped his head, his nose brushing the hair at your temple as he inhaled softly. “It’s nice to have you here,” he murmured, the words a warm puff against your skin.
You forced yourself to relax into the half-embrace, your mind screaming at the contradiction. This was the man who’d taken care of you when you were sick, who taught you to skate. This was also the man whose destiny was written in ink, intertwined with another woman’s name. The hollow ache in your chest expanded, threatening to swallow your resolve.
“I just needed to talk to you about something,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. You extricated yourself from his hold.
He frowned, returning back to his desk. “Is that right?”
“Yes.” You placed the sleek leather folder on the desk between you. “I need you to sign these.”
He didn’t look at it. His eyes stayed on your face. “What is it?”
“The termination of our engagement.” The words came out steady, practiced. “My lawyers have already reviewed it. It’s very straightforward. The settlement terms are there, and I think you’ll find them reasonable.”
For a long moment, there was nothing but silence from him. The gold light glinted off the edges of the folder, off the sharp line of his cheekbone.
He didn’t move. He didn’t blink.
Slowly, so slowly, he leaned forward. He didn’t reach for the folder. He placed his palms flat on the desk, his knuckles white. When he spoke, his voice was a low, controlled vibration.
“What?”
“I’m calling off the arrangement,” you repeated, your own voice sounding thin in comparison. “It’s for the best. We both know this was never a real—”
“For the best,” he echoed, cutting you off. The control was cracking. You could see it at the edges—a muscle jumping in his jaw, a storm gathering in those dark eyes. He pushed back from the desk and stood up, the movement fluid and predatory. He loomed over the desk, over you. “For the best? Are you serious? You come into my life, you—you change everything, you act like a completely different person for months, and now you just… you just drop this on my desk and say it’s for the best?”
“Sunghoon,” you startled at the emotion in his voice, taking an involuntary step back. “We both don’t want this. It’s a business deal that’s run its course. You can be with—”
“With who?” he snapped, his voice rising. He came around the desk, stopping a few feet from you. The space between you crackled with his fury. “Who is it that you think I want to be with? Tell me.”
“Soojin!” you blurted out. “Lee Soojin! It’s obvious, Sunghoon. You’re good together. She’s sweet, she’s genuine, she’s everything that—that this arrangement isn’t. You should be with her. You’re meant to be with her.”
He stared at you as if you’d started speaking in tongues. The anger seemed to freeze, then shatter into pure, unadulterated disbelief. “Soojin,” he scoffed, the name a flat, incredulous syllable. “Our wedding planner.”
“Yes! You talk to her, you laugh with her, you look at her like…” You trailed off, the memory of those looks twisting inside you.
“Like a competent professional whose work I respect?” he fired back, taking another step closer. You could see the faint flecks of gold in his irises, the rapid pulse at the base of his throat. “Is that the crime? Is that what this is about? You’ve decided, based on God-knows-what, that I have feelings for our wedding planner, and so you’re, what? Nobly stepping aside? Is that it?”
It was too close to the truth. You floundered. “It’s logical. This engagement is a farce. We should both be free.”
“Free?” he laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “Are you fucking with me?” He was right in front of you now, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the subtle, clean scent of his cologne. His gaze bored into yours, searching for something you were desperately trying to hide. “For months, I’ve been trying to understand you. I thought—I actually thought…” He broke off, shaking his head, a hand raking through his perfect hair in a gesture of utter frustration. “And now you hand me this. Did I do something? Did I upset you? Is this some new, elaborate game? Because if it is, I need you to tell me the rules right now, because I can’t keep up.”
The pain in his voice, the sheer, bewildered hurt mixed in with the anger, was your undoing. This wasn’t in the novel. The Sunghoon in the novel would have taken the papers with relief, maybe a cutting remark. He wouldn’t be standing here, looking at you like you’d just reached into his chest and pulled out his entire heart.
“It’s not a game,” you whispered, your own resolve crumbling. “And you didn’t do anything wrong. You’ve been—you’ve been lovely. That’s the whole problem.”
“That’s the whole problem,” he repeated, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “I’ve been lovely, so you’re leaving.” He ran his hands through his hair. “That makes no sense. None of this makes any sense, Y/N, I don’t accept this.”
“You have to sign the papers,” you said weakly.
“I don’t have to do a damn thing,” he said, and the final shred of his control vanished. His eyes blazed with conviction. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to walk in here, change every single thing, and then just walk away because you’ve decided what’s for the best. You don’t know what’s best for me.” He leaned in, his face inches from yours. His breath was warm against your skin. “The only thing I know for certain right now,” he said, each word deliberate, hammering, and emphasised, “is that I am not signing those papers.”
“You have to,” you insisted, your voice trembling despite your resolve. “Sunghoon, this isn’t real. What we have is a contract. You’ll get over this. In a month, you’ll look back and be grateful I let you go to be with someone you actually—someone who actually means something to you. Soojin is—”
“Enough.” The word was a guttural snarl that vibrated in the marrow of your bones. His hand, still hovering near your arm, finally closed around your wrist firmly. “Enough about Lee Soojin! You think this is about her?”
He pulled you closer, the motion so sudden you stumbled a half-step forward. The storm in his eyes had broken.
“You want to know what I’ve been thinking about?” he demanded, his voice a ragged scrape of sound. “When I’m in a meeting so boring I want to put my head through the glass, I think about coming home. Not just to this place. To wherever you are. That’s home. I imagine walking in and finding you asleep on the sofa with a book on your chest. I think about picking it up, reading the page you dog-eared, just to know what was in your head before you drifted off. If you’re in the kitchen, I think about you humming to yourself, that off-key little tune you do when you’re making tea, and I wonder what would happen if I came up behind you and put my hands around your waist.”
Your breath hitched, trapped in your throat. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. This was a deviation, a crack in the universe.
“And you think I’ve been—been thinking about her?” He let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “Before you, this place was just a building. I’d work until I couldn’t see straight just to have an excuse not to come back.” His eyebrows were drawn together. “You’ve fucked me up, Y/N. Now I find myself watching the clock like some pathetic highschooler, inventing reasons to wrap things up early. Because you’re here.”
He leaned in, his forehead almost touching yours. “You want to know when I think about Lee Soojin? I think about her when she’s emailing me timelines and invoices. That’s it. She’s a good planner, and she’s doing an excellent job planning a wedding that I don’t want with anyone but you.”
“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, a last-ditch defense. “It’s just… the arrangement, Sunghoon. It’s confusing your feelings—”
“Y/N,” He released your wrist, but only to bring both hands up to frame your face, his thumbs stroking over your cheekbones. The touch was devastating in its tenderness. “You think I don’t know what I feel? You think this is confusion? This is the only thing that has ever been clear to me.”
“Sunghoon, please—”
“No.” The word was soft, final. “It’s you. It’s only you. It has only ever been you.” His voice broke on the last word, the raw vulnerability of it slicing through you. “Do you understand? There is no one else, there will never be anyone else for me.”
The world tilted. The solid ground of the plot, of your predetermined escape, crumbled into dust beneath your feet. He was looking at you like you were the sun, but you were just a thief standing in its light.
“You’re wrong,” you choked out, tears spilling over now, matching his. “You have to be wrong. This is a trick. I tricked you. I didn’t mean to, but I did. I’m not her, Sunghoon. The person you think you—the person you feel this for, it’s not me. It’s a lie.”
His brow furrowed, bewildered concern overtaking his features. He wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “What are you talking about? Of course it’s you. Who else would it be?”
“The real Cha Y/N!” you cried, the words tearing free from some deep, secret place of panic. “The one who was supposed to be here! The person I was a year ago! That’s who you were supposed to be engaged to. That’s who you were supposed to hate. And I—I came in and I messed it all up. I was nice to Soojin. I made you congee. I laughed with your friends. I’ve been pretending to be someone,” you sniffled. “Someone better, and you fell for the act. You fell for this—this character.” You were sobbing in earnest now, the guilt and fear and desperate, unwanted hope pouring out of you. “You’re a good man, Sunghoon. You’re just—you feel responsible because I’ve been kind. That’s all this is.”
For a long, suspended moment, he just stared at you, his hands still cradling your face. The anger had drained from his expression, and, to your surprise, he wasn’t looking at you like you were crazy. He was looking at you like he was finally, finally putting the pieces together.
“A character,” he repeated slowly. His thumbs stilled on your skin. “You think you’ve been playing a part.”
“Yes.”
“And the real Cha Y/N… you believe she was someone else. Someone I was meant to despise.”
“Yes.”
He took a deep, slow breath, his gaze searching every inch of your face as if seeing it for the first time. “The night in the car. After the gala. You said you were from a different universe.” he said slowly. “I thought you were joking.”
You couldn’t speak. You just looked at him, your eyes wide with terror.
His voice dropped to a whisper, filled with awe and a terrible, heartbreaking softness. “You weren’t joking, were you?”
The last of your resistance collapsed. You shook your head, a tiny, helpless movement.
“Oh, Y/N,” he breathed. The sound was full of wonder. His grip on your face gentled even further. “My impossible, ridiculous girl. Do you really think it matters to me?” A faint, incredulous smile touched his lips, though his eyes were still wet. “Do you think I’m some honorable hero from one of your books?”
You flinched at the accuracy of it.
His smile faded, replaced by that same conviction. “I told you. I’m not a hero. I’m a selfish man. I want what I want. And I have never, not for one second since you woke up in this world, wanted anyone but you.” He leaned closer, his gaze dropped to your lips, then back to your eyes, dark with a hunger that stole the air from your lungs. “I have spent the last few months in a special kind of hell, Y/N. Do you have any idea what that’s been like? To have the woman I’m contractually bound to be the only woman I can’t fucking have? To watch you walk around in those little sleep shorts, with your hair messy in the morning, and have to pretend I don’t see it? To sit across from you at breakfast and want to clear the entire table with my arm just to get my hands on you?” He leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. His voice dropped to a vicious whisper that scraped over every nerve ending. “I’ve thought about bending you over this very desk. I’ve thought about pinning you against that glass and watching the whole city see who you belong to. I’ve thought about your mouth, your thighs, the sounds you’d make if I finally stopped being a gentleman. I’ve fucked my own hand more times these past few months than in my entire life before you, and every single time, it was your name I bit into my pillow to keep from shouting.”
A dizzying wave of heat crashed through you.
“Sunghoon,” you started, but you had no words.
“No,” he growled, pulling back to look at you, his gaze scouring your face. “Listen to me.” He released your wrist only to bring both hands up to frame your face, his touch searing. “You are not leaving me. This engagement is not ending. The only thing that’s ending is this pathetic charade where we pretend this isn’t real.”
He released you so suddenly you swayed. In one fluid, violent motion, he snatched the leather folder from the desk. You watched, hypnotized, as his hands searched for the papers. He tore them in half, then quarters, then let the pieces flutter to the floor.
“The only paper you’ll sign next,” he said, his voice low and final, “is our marriage certificate. Do you understand me?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. His attention was already on his tie. With a sharp tug, he loosened the knot of his silk tie, the dark fabric slithering free. His eyes never left yours as he began to stalk toward you, a predator with its prey finally cornered.
You took a step back. Then another. Your heart was a wild drum against your ribs. The heat between your legs was a throbbing, insistent ache. Your back hit something cool and unyielding—the massive floor-to-ceiling window. The panoramic view of the city sprawled behind you, a dizzying drop of steel and glass. You were trapped between the cold glass and the furnace of his body.
He closed the final distance and planted his hands on the glass on either side of your head, caging you in.
“Now,” he breathed out. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you haven’t thought about it. Lie to me.”
You couldn’t. Your breath hitched, your lips parted. A small, desperate whimper escaped you.
That was all the answer he needed.
He kissed you like he was starving, and you were the first thing he’d had in a lifetime. He kissed you like he was trying to erase every word about leaving, every mention of another person’s name. His teeth grazed your lower lip, a sharp sting of pleasure-pain that made you cry out against his mouth. Your hands flew up to clutch at the crisp fabric of his shirt. A low groan rumbled from his chest into yours.
He swallowed the sound, his tongue tangling with yours, deep and filthy. When he finally broke for air, it was only to drag his lips along your jaw, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.
“You think I could look at anyone else,” he growled, his voice a scrape against your ear as he bit your earlobe. “When you’re in my house? In my bed? Fuck.” His hands left the glass and gripped your hips, fingers digging in through the thin fabric of your dress. “Every night. Every goddamn night, Y/N.”
“Sunghoon—” you whimpered, the explicit confession flooding your system with heat.
“Y/N,” he breathed out. He spun you around, your front pressing against the cool, unyielding glass. The city sprawled below, and your breath fogged the window. His body covered yours from behind, his erection a hard, insistent line against the curve of your ass. He pushed your hair aside and buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “I couldn’t stand it,” he whispered, the words a dark, delicious sin directly into your ear. One hand slid around your waist, splaying possessively over your lower belly. The other hand yanked at the hem of your dress, gathering it up around your waist. The cool air kissed your bare thighs, and you shuddered. “Tell me you thought about it, too. Tell me you touched yourself, thinking about my hands on you.”
“Yes,” you breathed, the admission torn from you.
“Good.” The word was a satisfied rumble. His fingers hooked into the lace of your panties. With a sharp tug, the delicate fabric tore, and he palmed your bare ass, then slid his hand between your thighs.
You were soaked. Achingly, shamelessly wet for him.
He groaned, a deep, pained sound. “Look at this.” He dragged two fingers through your slickness, circling your clit with a pressure that made you cry out and press your forehead to the cold glass. “All that talk of leaving,” he breathed out, his voice thick with lust, “but your body knows the truth. It knows who it belongs to.”
He pushed a finger inside you, then a second, curling them expertly. Your inner muscles clenched around him, a pulse of pure need. You moaned.
His other hand slid up your torso, roughly palming your tits through the silk of your dress before finding the zipper at the side. With a sharp tug, he pulled it down, the fabric gaping open. He shoved the material off your shoulders, baring you to the waist. The cool glass met your feverish skin, your nipples pebbling into tight, sensitive points against the smooth, unyielding surface.
“See?” he whispered hotly against your ear, his fingers still working inside you, stretching you, preparing you. “See how pretty you look? Pressed against my window. My view.” He bit down on the junction of your neck and shoulder, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to brand you. “I want the whole city to see. I want every man in every building to look up and see my pretty little wife getting fucked by her husband. To know you’re taken. That you’re mine.”
A shudder of pure, wanton heat racked your body. “We’re—we’re not married yet,” you gasped out, a feeble defense as you ground your hips back against his hand. “We’re just—hngh!—business partners.”
His fingers stilled. Then, slowly, he pulled them out. You whimpered at the loss, the emptiness. You heard the rustle of clothing, the clink of his belt buckle, the slide of a zipper. Then the replacement of the hot, heavy weight of his erection pressed against the cleft of your ass with the velvety head of his cock nudging against your soaked folds.
“Is that so?”
His voice was a low, dangerous purr against the shell of your ear. He held his cock there, just brushing your pussy, his hips making tiny, maddening circles that smeared his pre-cum against your sensitive folds.
“If we’re not married,” he continued, his tone deceptively light, almost conversational, as his hands gripped your hips, “then I suppose this would be improper. A breach of our purely business arrangement.” He pulled back slightly, the loss of his heat a physical pain. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we should stop.”
“No,” you gasped, the word torn from you. You tried to push back against him, but his grip was iron, holding you still. “Sunghoon—”
“No?” he echoed, mock-thoughtful. One hand smoothed over your bare hip, his thumb digging into the sensitive dip. “But you were so clear about the terms just now. About it being just business.” He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “Business partners don’t do this, do they, Y/N?”
You were trembling. Your muscles clenched around nothing, aching. “Sunghoon, please.”
“Please what?” he purred, his other hand coming up to circle your throat. “Use your words. Tell me what you need.”
You were beyond pride, beyond the script of the novel, beyond everything but the pounding of your blood and the empty, throbbing want between your legs. “I need you,” you gasped, your forehead grinding against the cool glass. “I need your cock. Please. Please, just… fuck me. I need it. I need you inside me.”
“Where inside you?” he demanded, his voice dropping to a filthy whisper. One hand slid from your hip, around to your lower belly, pressing down. “Here?” He rocked his hips, the blunt head catching on your entrance, pushing in just a single, devastating inch before retreating. A broken cry of agreement left your lips. “You feel that? That’s where I belong. That’s where I’m going to fill you up.”
“Please,” you sobbed, shameless now. “Please, Sunghoon, I need it so bad—”
He sheathed himself to the hilt.
The world dissolved into a white-hot shock of sensation. The stretch was immense, breathtaking, a burning fullness that stole the air from your lungs completely. You screamed, the sound muffled against the glass. He was so deep, you could practically feel him in your womb.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his body going rigid against yours, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “God, you’re tight. You’re taking me so well, baby. So perfect for me.”
He didn’t move for a long moment, letting you feel every inch, letting your body adjust to the overwhelming intrusion. You could feel the heavy throb of him inside you, the way your own muscles fluttered and clenched around him, trying to pull him deeper.
Then he moved.
He pulled out slowly, almost completely, dragging it out before slamming back in. A choked cry was punched from you with each relentless thrust thrust that jolted you forward into the window, your palms squeaking against the glass. The sound of skin slapping against skin, of his ragged breaths and your desperate moans, filled the silent office.
“You thought you could leave?” he panted, his pace increasing, becoming less controlled, more frantic. He wrapped one arm around your waist, hauling you back onto him with every drive of his hips. “You thought you could walk away from me?” He slammed into you, and a sharp cry was punched from your chest. “I’d have found you. I’d have torn the world apart to bring you back. You’re mine.”
“Big words,” you managed to taunt, your voice shaking. “For a man who—ah!—needed a contract to get a wife.”
“You have a smart mouth for someone getting split open on my cock,” he snarled. The arm around your waist tightened, and his other hand came down in a sharp, stinging slap on your ass.
The shock of it made you clench around him harder.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his thrusts becoming harder, more erratic. “You like that?” He spanked you again, on the other side, and you moaned, pushing your ass back into the contact, into his thrusts. “This perfect cunt,” he hammered into you, “this perfect body. All mine. In a month, you’ll be my wife. Then it’s forever.” His breaths were shaking too, now. “You’ll carry my children. You’ll wear my ring and my marks and my cum every single day until you forget there was ever a time you weren’t mine.”
Your nails scrabbled against the smooth glass. “You’re—you’re insane,” you gasped out.
“For you,” he growled, nipping at your shoulder. “It’s all for you.” His pace became brutal, a piston-like drive that had you seeing stars with each impact. The tightness in your belly wound faster, faster, a spring of sensation ready to snap. You could feel the sweat slick between your bodies.
“That’s it,” he whispered, watching your desperate, pleasure-twisted expression in the darkening reflection of the glass. “See how beautiful you are? Taking all of me. Made for me. My perfect girl.” He slid a hand around your hip, his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing tight little circles. “You want me to put a baby in you, don’t you?” he breathed. “You want to be so full of me you can’t forget for a second who you belong to.”
Your hips rocked back, meeting his thrusts, seeking more, deeper. “Yes,” you whimpered. “Yes, Sunghoon, please.”
In one brutal, fluid motion, he spun you around. Your back hit the glass with a soft thud, the city lights a dizzying backdrop behind him. Before you could process the new position, his mouth was on yours, swallowing your gasp. His tongue mapped the interior of your mouth as his hands gripped your bare thighs, hiking them up around his hips. He entered you again in this new, face-to-face angle, and it was somehow deeper. You could see his face—the dark flush on his cheekbones, the sweat beading at his temples, the madness in his eyes.
His cock sank back into your soaked pussy with a slick thrust, stretching you wide in this new angle that let him grind right against that spot deep inside. Sunghoon groaned low in his throat, his forehead pressing to yours as he started moving again, slow at first, savoring the way your walls clenched around him, pulling him in like you were made to milk every inch. "Fuck, you’re incredible," he rasped, voice rough with awe. "So tight, so wet for me. ‘S like your body's begging to keep me forever."
You clung to his shoulders, nails digging into the taut muscles of his back through his shirt as he picked up the pace, hips snapping forward. Each plunge drove him deeper, the head of his cock dragging along your inner walls, hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves that made stars burst behind your eyelids. The cool glass bit into your spine, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every thrust. All you could focus on was Sunghoon: his breath hot on your neck, his hands bruising your thighs as he held you open, fucking you so hard you were sure you’d forget your own name by the time he was done.
"That's my girl," he murmured, lips brushing your ear, his rhythm turning relentless. He loved it, the way your pussy fluttered around his thick length, the obscene wet sounds of him sliding in and out, the way your tits bounced with each thrust. He shifted his grip, hiking you up higher so that one hand could slide up to cup your breast, thumb flicking your hardened nipple while he lowered his mouth to the other.
Your head fell back against the window, a series of punched-out moan and whimpers tearing from your throat. His thrusts grew harder, faster again. You could feel him everywhere—his cock throbbing inside you, his hands on your body, his mouth on your tits, and the tightness climbed further and further, your clit pulsing under the friction of his body—until it snapped. You cried out his name as you rode the waves of your orgasm, legs trembling in his hold.
Sunghoon followed seconds later, burying himself to the hilt with your name on his lips. His cock pulsed, hot spurts of cum flooding your depths, marking you from the inside out. He held you there, grinding deep as he emptied himself. Then slowly, carefully, he pulled out. A hot trickle slid down your inner thigh. He released you from his grip gently, his expression utterly shattered. He looked at you—your flushed face, your kiss-swollen lips, your dress rumpled around your waist—as if you were a miracle.
He leaned down and kissed you softly. “I’m in love with you, you impossible woman,” he whispered against your lips. “I think I have been since you shoved me out of the way to make congee.”
A watery laugh-sob escaped you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on.
He kissed your forehead, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. Then his expression grew serious again, though the tenderness remained, and he reached for his discarded suit jacket, draped over his desk chair, and wrapped it around your shoulders. Then looked at the scattered shreds of the termination agreement on the floor, then back at you, a dark gleam in his eye. “And just in case you get any more noble, self-sacrificing ideas…” He placed his large hand over your lower belly again, thumb stroking the skin. “We’re not done here. We’re going home, and you can forget about work tomorrow.”
THREE YEARS LATER, THE SOUND OF GLEEFUL SHRIEKS WAS BETTER THAN ANY ALARM CLOCK.
You stirred, a soft smile already on your face before you even opened your eyes. The early morning sun filtered through the gauzy curtains of the bedroom in the penthouse—your penthouse, your bedroom—covering everything in warm, honeyed light. The space beside you in the vast bed was empty, but still warm. You could hear the distant, deep complaints of Sunghoon’s voice mixing with the high, piping laughter of your daughter, Via.
You pushed yourself up on your elbows, one hand automatically cradling the gentle, firm swell of your belly. Twenty weeks along with your second. A little brother for Via, the ultrasound had confirmed.
Padding out to the open-plan living area, you leaned against the doorframe, watching. Sunghoon, dressed in soft grey sweatpants and a worn t-shirt, was on his hands and knees, being conquered by a two-year-old warlord in ugly green dinosaur pajamas. Via was perched triumphantly on his back, tiny hands fisted in his shirt, shouting “Daddy, horsey! Faster!”
“I am a CEO,” Sunghoon grumbled, but his voice was full of laughter as he obediently crawled a few more feet across the rug. “I negotiate several deals before you even eat breakfast. I am not a horse.”
“Horsey!” Via insisted, shrieking.
“You heard the boss,” you called out, grinning.
Sunghoon’s head snapped up. His face, which still took your breath away, softened instantly when he saw you. Even with sleep-tousled hair, he still made your heart do that stupid flip with a smile that reached his crinkled eyes. “Look, Via, Mama’s awake,” he said, carefully rolling so he could scoop your giggling daughter into his arms as he stood.
“Mama!” Via reached for you, and Sunghoon carried her over, depositing a wriggling, warm bundle into your arms before leaning down to kiss you, slow and sweet.
“Good morning, baby.” he murmured against your lips. “How did you sleep?”
“Perfectly,” you said, meaning it. You kissed Via’s dark hair. “Unlike someone who was apparently running a rodeo at 7 AM.”
“She has her mother’s energy,” Sunghoon said, his hand coming to rest on your belly, his thumb stroking the curve. “And her mother’s terrible sense of timing.” he mock-frowned. “Why’d you have to get up now? I was just about to bring you breakfast in bed.”
“Mm, no,” you leaned into him. “This is much better.”
my first long-ish fic...thats why i used dividers but wow its lowkey too many sweats anyway she is my baby this took me so long (literally over a month lol) but i hope u like her....... to be honest with u guys,,, i dont like it 😭 i was super excited abt this idea but i dont like at all how it came out and i honestly think i could have done so much better but i just wanted to get this done even if it was shit i cant lie im sorry 😞 it felt so weird to finish off after everything,, im still pretty torn up about it so if anything at all came off a little weird thats my bad 🥲🥲🥲 anyway i hope u liked it tho, and i hope ur all doing good and keeping healthy (and boycotting belift !!) <3 much love from ur mona heedimples 💝
#thinking about how sunghoon would absolutely weck the fuck out of your pussy after looking for you for three years after you guys got separated in the chaos of the apocalypse.
taking you back to his military base where lots of survivors now live making sure you get the right treatments and care before taking you to his room, tying you to the bed rail, riping your new and clean pants off and shoving his full length into your tight hole.
ramming repeatedly into that nice spongy spot, making your stomach tighten up with that bliss feeling you haven’t felt in years. you tried so hard to keep quiet but you knew that everyone outside the door heard what was going on…
sunghoon lets go of your waist and grabs the back of both of your knees. deepening his thrusts and getting the wet mixture of his cum and your arosual all over the bed.
“Look at that..” he groaned out, still abusing your hole.
dispite his roughness and the burning knot in your stomach about to explode you look down at the delicious mess you guys were making. watching how his thick dick disappears and reappears in and out your pussy, #noticing his length covered in your juices. you moan out at the sight, looking up at sunghoon who’s focused on your tight little hole.
“Fuck baby I’m bout to cum.”
his sudden voice pushed your over the edge, arching your back off the bed, trying so hard to close those pretty legs of yours but his grip was too strong and when you came you let out a loud scream and squirted all over his chest.
he soon came after you pulling slowly out your hole which made you shiver at the sensation.
your vision was blurry and there was a ringing in you ears.. it was soo worth it but now everyone definitely knew sunghoon was fucking you.
!! synopsis: it was all fun and games having the two biggest heartthrobs on campus chasing after you. jake the steady one who showed up, who waited, who looked at you like you were the only thing that made sense. and heeseung the wild one who teased, who pushed, who looked at you like he was trying to figure out what was underneath. two boys. four years. and you, stuck in the middle, never choosing, never needing to. until you had to.
!! genre: college au, love triangle, mutual pining, smut + suggestive, crack, fluff
!! warnings: jealousy, possessive behavior, alcohol consumption, smut(mdni), switch reader, soft dom + sub jake, mean dom heeseung (hes so dada), threesome, praise kink, tit play, pet names, dirty talk, oral (female + male) , piv, light spanking + choking, degrading, unprotected sex cs we young ho's (jk wrap it before u tap it pls), cum + spit play, overstimulation, squirting, mxm if u squint (mb was feelin freaky) double penetration, orgasim denial (lots of it sry), lmk if i missed anything
!! wc: 23K
!! a/n: hihihi amazing ppl i hope u enjoy reading dont hate on my queen y/n its heejake we talking abt here. I attempted to proof read while half asleep so if something doesn't make sense js ignore it ok?? ok!! shoutout to my baddie my everything the mother of my kids @arelyvn for being my motivation to try out something new js know u getting it tonight anyways happy reading!!
Students stream past you in waves, you're halfway across the quad, when you feel it. A shift in the air. The way conversations sometimes dip and rise when someone important walks by.
You don't need to look to know who it is. You've been here long enough to recognize the sound of campus adjusting to the presence of certain people. Jake and Heeseung are crossing the quad from the opposite direction, accompanied by the rest of their friends. Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon and Ni-ki, the names everyone on campus knows, the group that's been at the center of everything since freshman year. They move through the crowd like they own it, and in a way, they do.
You watch them as they pass. Jay is mid-rant about something while Sunghoon is beside him, pretending to listen. Sunoo is laughing at something on his phone, his head thrown back, and Jungwon is trying to grab the phone from him. Ni-ki is walking backward in front of them all, saying something that makes Jay throw his hands up even more, and something that makes Sunghoon look away from the crowd and pay attention.
And then there's Jake and Heeseung. Jake is the one people notice first. Something about him draws the eye without demanding it. He's got his hands in his jacket pockets, his head tilted as he listens to whatever Ni-ki is saying. He's the kind of person who makes you feel seen without trying. People have been talking about Jake since freshman year, about how he helped that transfer student find her way to the dining hall during the first week, about how he stayed up all night helping Sunghoon study for a final, about how he's the reason their group became a group in the first place.
People have been talking about Heeseung for just as long. They talk about the way he plays basketball, the way he's been scouted since his first season. Where Jake makes you feel safe, Heeseung makes you feel like you're standing at the edge of something dangerous. He walks with his eyes scanning the crowd like he's looking for something or someone and when his gaze passes over you, it lingers for just a second longer than it should. He's been doing that for four years.
You've known them both for four years. You've watched them become the people everyone talks about. You've heard the whispers of the girls who want Jake's attention, the ones who want Heeseung's, the ones who want both and the girls who've tried and fail to get there attention. And you've been in the middle of it. Not by choice, maybe, though you've never exactly stepped out of it either. You've let them orbit you, let them watch you, let them want you. You've told yourself it doesn't mean anything, that you're not doing anything wrong by letting them both stay close. And that you're not responsible for what they feel, that you're not leading anyone on, that you're just existing in the space between two people who have been there for four years. The problem is you're not sure you believe yourself anymore.
The library is quiet when you get there, the way you like it. You find your usual table near the window, spread out your books, and try to focus on the reading you've been avoiding for three days. You make it ten minutes before a coffee cup appears in your peripheral vision. You look up. Heeseung slides into the chair across from you. Oat milk vanilla latte. Exactly how you like it.
"I didn't ask for coffee."
"You didn't have to." He leans back, stretching his arms behind his head, and you try not to notice the way his shirt pulls across his chest. "You always come here on Tuesdays. You always get tired around ten. You always need a second cup."
You wrap your hands around the cup, letting the warmth seep into your palms. "That's creepy."
"It's observant. There's a difference."
"There really isn't." He grins. It's the same grin he's been giving you for four years. The one that says he's always a step ahead, that he's been watching you long enough to know exactly how to get under your skin. A puzzle you can't quite solve.
"Are you going tonight?" you ask, already knowing the answer.
"Wouldn't miss it."
"Why? Thought you hate Sunghoon's parties."
"I don't hate them. I tolerate them." He leans forward, elbows on the table, and his voice drops. "I'm going because you'll be there."
You hold his gaze. Four years ago, that kind of line would have made your stomach flip. Now, you've learned to meet him where he is. "You always say that."
"Because it's always true."
You try to hold back a smile. He catches it of course and his grin softens into something that looks almost genuine.
"See you tonight," he says, standing.
He's halfway to the door when you call after him. "Heeseung."
He turns.
"The coffee's cold."
He laughs, a real laugh the kind you don't hear often and pushes through the exit. Leaving you alone with your lukewarm latte and the strange, familiar ache in your chest.
You sit there for another twenty minutes, staring at the same page. When you finally pack up your books and head for the exit, not paying attention. You push through the doors, your eyes on your phone, your mind still tangled up in thoughts you don't want to name, and you walk directly into someone's chest.
"Watch-"
You look up. Jake.
He steadies you with a hand on your arm, his grip gentle, his face shifting from surprise to something warmer when he realizes it's you. "Sorry," he says, his hand still on your arm. "I wasn't looking."
"I wasn't either."
He doesn't let go right away. His thumb brushes your sleeve, a small, absent movement, like he's not even thinking about it. His eyes are warm in the afternoon light, the kind of warm that makes you forget you were in a hurry to leave.
"You okay?" he asks. "You look like you're somewhere else."
You pull back, tuck your hair behind your ear. "Just tired. Long week."
He nods slowly. He doesn't push. That's one of the things you've always loved about Jake.
"Sunghoon's party," he says. "You going?"
You laugh, a little breathless. "You're the third person to ask me that."
"Third?"
"Heeseung asked. Yunjin asked. Now you."
His expression doesn't change at the mention of Heeseung. You're not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. "So what did you tell them?"
"I told them I'd think about it, but I'll most likely be there."
He smiles and steps aside to let you pass, but as you move by him, his hand brushes yours. Barely anything. But you feel it.
"I hope you come," he says, and there's something in his voice that makes you stop.
You turn to look at him. "Why?"
He holds your gaze. "Because I always have a better time when you're there."
You don't know what to say to that or why your body wants to step closer. Instead, you smile. "I'll think about it," you say again, and this time, it sounds like a promise.
He's still watching you when you walk away. You can feel his eyes on your back, warm and steady, and you let yourself wonder, for just a moment, what it would be like to stop pretending.
You're halfway across the quad when your phone buzzes. You pull it out of your pocket, expecting Yunjin or your mom or one of the dozen group chats you've muted and forgotten about. It's Heeseung. Don't think about it too hard. Just show up.
Your thumb hovers over the keyboard. You type out a response, delete it, type another, delete that too. Finally, you settle on: I'll be there.
His response comes almost immediately. Good.
You shove your phone back in your pocket and keep walking, your heart pounding, your mind racing, the weight of the weekend pressing down on you like something you're not ready to carry.
Sunghoon's party is in full swing by the time you arrive. The apartment is packed, bodies pressed together in the kitchen and the living room and the hallway. Fairy lights are strung across the ceiling, casting everything in warm gold, and someone has set up a makeshift dance floor. You walk in like you own the place. Because you do. You've been coming here for four years. You know where Sunghoon keeps the good alcohol, which corner of the couch is most comfortable. You know these people. You know this room. You know exactly what you're doing here.
Yunjin finds you immediately, her hand closing around your wrist, pulling you toward the kitchen. "You're late."
"I'm never late."
"You're always late. Drink this." She shoves a cup into your hand. "Sunoo made his special punch. It's terrible but it's strong."
You take a sip. It is terrible. But it's also strong, and you're here, and the music is loud enough to drown out the voice in your head that's been asking too many questions lately. You let Yunjin pull you through the crowd, introducing you to people you've already met, making you laugh at jokes you've already heard. She's in her element tonight, bright and loud and impossible to ignore, and you're happy to let her take the lead. But your eyes are moving.
Jake is across the room, leaning against the wall, a cup in his hand. He's talking to Niki, but his eyes find you almost immediately, like he knew exactly where you'd be. He smiles, small and easy, and you smile back before looking away. Heeseung is on the other side of the room, near the windows. He's not talking to anyone. He's just watching, the way he always watches, his hands in his jacket pockets, his face unreadable. When your eyes meet, he doesn't smile. He just tilts his head, a small gesture, a question you don't know how to answer. You look away first.
An hour later, you're on the dance floor. The music has shifted to something slower, heavier, the kind of beat that settles into your bones and makes you want to move. You're dancing with Yunjin at first, then with Sakura, then with no one in particular, just letting the music move through you.
You feel someone behind you before you see them. A hand on your waist, light, questioning. You turn. Jake is there, close enough that you can see the slight flush on his cheeks from the heat of the room.
"Dance with me," he says. It's not a question.
You raise an eyebrow. "That sounded like an order."
He grins. "Is it working?"
You let him pull you closer, his hands settling on your waist, yours finding his shoulders. He's warm, steady, the way he's always been. His hands are careful, respectful, the hands of someone who has been waiting for a long time and isn't going to rush now that he's here.
"You're a good dancer," you say.
"I'm a terrible dancer. You're just easy to move with."
You laugh, and his hands tighten on your waist, just enough for you to feel it. Across the room, you see Heeseung watching. His arms are crossed, his face unreadable, but there's something in his posture that tells you he's not as casual as he's pretending to be.
You smile at Jake. You lean in close, your lips brushing his ear. "He's watching."
Jake doesn't turn. He doesn't need to. "I know."
"Does that bother you?"
His hands slide down your waist, just slightly, just enough to pull you closer. "Not tonight."
You dance for another song, maybe two. Jake's hands stay on your waist, his eyes stay on your face, and for a moment, you let yourself exist in this space, in the warmth of him, in the steadiness of his hands. When the song ends, you pull back. He doesn't let go immediately.
"I'm getting a drink," you say.
He releases you slowly, his fingers trailing down your arm, your wrist, your hand. "I'll find you."
You know he will.
You're at the makeshift bar in the kitchen when Heeseung appears beside you. He doesn't say anything at first. He just stands there, close enough that his arm brushes yours, far enough that you could pretend you don't notice.
"Jake looked happy," he says.
"He usually does."
"Not like that." Heeseung turns to look at you. His face is close, closer than you expected, his eyes dark in the low light. "He only looks like that when you're around."
You hold his gaze. "And you?"
He doesn't answer. He reaches past you, his arm brushing your waist, and grabs a bottle from the counter. When he pulls back, he's close enough that you can smell whatever cologne he's wearing.
"What do you want, Heeseung?"
He looks at you for a long moment. Then he smiles, and it's not his usual smirk. It's something else, something that makes your stomach tighten.
"You," he says. "But I'm not the one you're dancing with tonight."
You could let it go. You could walk away, find Yunjin, pretend this conversation didn't happen. But you've been running for four years, and you're tired of running. You step closer. Close enough that your chest almost touches his. Close enough that you have to tilt your head to meet his eyes.
"Then stop watching," you say, "and do something about it."
His breath catches. You see it the moment his control slips. His hand comes up, his fingers brushing your waist, your hip, pulling you toward him.
"You're playing a dangerous game," he says, his voice low.
"Am I winning?"
He laughs, low and rough, and for a moment, you think he's going to kiss you. His face is close, his lips inches from yours, his hand tight on your waist. But he doesn't kiss you. He pulls back, just enough to breathe.
"You're going to be the death of me," he says.
He disappears into the crowd before you can respond.
You later find Yunjin on the couch, her legs draped over Jay's lap, a glass of wine in her hand. She looks at you with the particular expression she gets when she knows something you don't want her to know.
"What?" you say.
"Nothing." She takes a sip of wine. "Just watching you work."
"I'm not working."
"Oh babes you're working alright." She grins. "Jake danced with you for twenty minutes. Heeseung looked like he wanted to eat you alive. And you're standing here like you didn't do anything."
You settle onto the couch beside her. "I didn't do anything."
"That's what you think."
She laughs, and you laugh, and the night moves on.
Later, much later, you find yourself on the back patio. The air is cool, a welcome relief after the heat of the house. The city is quiet, the stars faint overhead, and for a moment, you're alone. But you're not alone for long.
Jake appears beside you, his hands in his pockets, his face half lit by the light from the house. He doesn't say anything at first. He just stands beside you, close enough to touch, far enough to let you breathe.
"You had fun tonight," he says.
"I always have fun."
"You had more fun than usual." He turns to look at you. "Heeseung looked like he wanted to kill me when I was dancing with you."
You laugh. "Heeseung always looks like that."
"Not like that." He steps closer. "Not when it's you."
You look at him. At the person who waited, who showed up, who never asked for anything except the chance to be near you.
"You're staring," you say.
"You're worth staring at."
He leans in. His forehead touches yours. His breath is warm on your lips.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks.
You think about the years of not choosing, of running back and forth, of being too scared to want what you wanted. "Yes," you say.
He kisses you. It's soft, gentle, the way he's always been. His hands cup your face, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones, and he kisses you like you're something precious, something worth waiting for. You kiss him back. Your hands find his chest, his shoulders, his hair. You pull him closer, and the kiss deepens, and for a moment, you forget about everything else.
He pulls back first, his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven.
"That was-" he starts.
"Don't ruin the mood Jake."
He laughs, low and warm. "I was going to say perfect."
You smile. "Yeah? Need you so bad Jake."
Your words seemed to be the final straw for Jake, as he's tugging you from the porch to his car and before you know it in his apartment.
Jake's apartment is quiet. The windows are open, letting in the cool spring air, the sound of the city muffled to a distant hum. His room is clean in a nice comforting way. He's standing in the middle of the room, watching you. His hands are shoved in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched, his hair falling across his forehead. He looks nervous. He looks like he's been waiting for this moment for years and now that it's here, he doesn't know what to do with himself.
"You're staring again," you say.
"You're worth staring at yet again."
You move toward him slowly, watching his face, watching the way his eyes track your movements, the way his chest rises and falls a little faster with each step you take. You stop when you're close enough to touch, close enough to feel the heat of him, close enough to see the slight twitch in his hands.
"What do you want tonight?" you ask.
His throat works. His hands come out of his pockets, hovering at his sides like he's not sure where to put them. "I want to try something."
"What kind of something?"
His jaw sets. He straightens his shoulders, lifts his chin. There's something determined in his expression, something that looks like he's been practicing for this. "I want to be in control and have you in ways I've always dreamed," he says.
You raise an eyebrow. "Is that right?"
He steps closer. His hand finds your waist, his fingers pressing into your hip, and he pulls you toward him. His other hand comes up to your face, tilting your chin, making you look at him. "Yeah," he says, and his voice is lower than usual, rougher. "I want to take care of you. I want to make you feel good. I want to be the one who decides how fast this goes."
You let him hold you. You let him tilt your chin, let him press his body against yours, let him try to fill the space the way he thinks he's supposed to. He's trying so hard. You can see it in the set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, the way he's holding himself like he's playing a role he doesn't quite know.
He leans in to kiss you. It's harder than usual, more demanding, his tongue sliding against yours, his hand tight on your hip. He's trying to set the pace, trying to be the one who leads, trying to be rough in a way that doesn't come naturally to him. You kiss him back. You let him have this. For now.
He walks you backward toward the bedroom, his mouth never leaving yours, his hands everywhere from your waist, your back, your thighs. He's trying to be commanding, trying to push, trying to be the one who decides. But there's a hesitation in his touch, a carefulness that betrays him. He pulls at your shirt like he's not sure how hard to pull. His fingers tremble against your skin. His breath comes in short, sharp gasps that sound more desperate than dominant.
When your back hits the bedroom door, he presses into you, his body hard against yours, his mouth on your neck. "I've been thinking about this all night," he says against your skin. "About taking my time with you. About making you beg for it."
You bite your lip to keep from smiling. "Is that so?"
He pulls back to look at you. His eyes are dark, lips a plump cherry red his chest heaving, his hands pressed against the door on either side of your head. He's trying so hard to look commanding, trying to look like he knows what he's doing, trying to be someone he's not.
You reach up, your fingers tracing his jaw. He leans into your touch without thinking, his eyes fluttering closed, his whole body softening under your hand. "Jake," you say softly. He opens his eyes. "You're not very good at this."
He blinks. "What?"
You push against his chest. He stumbles back, surprised, and you step forward, reversing your positions. His back hits the door. Your hands press against his chest, holding him there. "You're trying to be someone you're not," you say. "You're trying to be rough. Trying to be in control. Trying to be the one who decides."
His throat works. His hands hang at his sides. "I want to be what you need."
You slide your hands up his chest, his shoulders, his neck. Your fingers thread into his hair, tilting his head back the way he did to you. "What I need," you say, your mouth close to his ear, "is you. Not some version of you that you think I want. Just you."
His breath catches. His hands find your waist, but they're not pushing, not pulling. They're holding on.
"You want to be in control tonight?" you ask. He nods. His eyes are wide, his lips parted. "You're not going to get it."
You kiss him. It's soft at first, teasing, your tongue tracing his lower lip, your fingers tightening in his hair. He makes a sound against your mouth something between a gasp and a whimper and his hands tighten on your waist, but he doesn't push. He doesn't pull. He just holds on.
You pull back. Look at him. "You want to be good for me?"
His eyes are glassy, his chest heaving. "Yes."
"Then do what I say."
He nods. His hands fall to his sides.
You step back. Look at him. His shirt is rumpled, his hair a mess, his lips swollen from kissing. He's standing against the door like he's waiting for something, like he'd do anything you asked.
"Take off your shirt."
He reaches for the hem, pulls it over his head. His skin is warm in the low light, his chest bare, his muscles tensing and relaxing under your gaze. He drops the shirt on the floor, his hands falling back to his sides.
"Good," you say. "Now the pants."
He fumbles with the button, his fingers clumsy, his eyes never leaving your face. The pants fall to the floor. He steps out of them, kicks them aside, stands in front of you in nothing but his boxers. His chest is still heaving, his hands shaking, his whole body strung tight.
You circle him slowly. His shoulders are tense, his breathing shallow, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. You run your fingers down his back, feel the muscles jump beneath your touch, hear the sharp intake of his breath. "You've been waiting for this," you say. "Haven't you?"
His voice is hoarse. "Four years."
You stop behind him, press your chest against his back, your mouth close to his ear. "Then stop trying to be in control. Let me take care of you."
He shudders. His head falls forward, his hands braced against the door.
You reach around, your fingers finding the waistband of his boxers. You pull them down slowly, feeling his breath catch, feeling his body tremble beneath your hands. The boxers fall to the floor. He steps out of them, kicks them aside, and then he's bare, his skin warm, his body hard, his heart pounding so hard you can see it in his neck.
You turn him around. He's fully hard tip already leaking, his eyes dark and wide. He looks at you like you're the only thing in the world.
You push him toward the bed. He goes willingly, his legs unsteady, his eyes never leaving your face. When his knees hit the edge, he falls back onto the mattress, his arms bracing himself.
You climb onto the bed, kneel between his legs. His thighs are warm beneath your hands, his muscles tense, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. You run your fingers up the inside of his thighs, feel him shiver, hear the small sound that escapes his throat.
"Lay back," you say. He lays back. His hands fist in the sheets. His chest rises and falls, his whole body waiting.
You wrap your hand around him. He's hot, heavy, pulsing beneath your fingers. His hips jerk up, a desperate, involuntary movement, and he makes a sound that's a whimper.
You stroke him slowly, watching his face. His eyes are closed, his lips parted, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He's already falling apart, already losing himself, and you've barely touched him.
"Look at me pretty boy," you say. He opens his eyes. They're dark, glazed, barely focused.
You lean down, your tongue tracing the head of him. He gasps, his hands flying to your hair, but he doesn't pull. He doesn't push. He holds on like you're the only thing keeping him grounded.
You take him into your mouth. The sound he makes is desperate, broken, your name caught in his throat. His hips jerk up again, but he stops himself, his hands trembling in your hair, his whole body shaking with the effort of holding still. You move slowly, your tongue circling, your lips tight, your hand working what your mouth can't reach. You feel him pulse on your tongue, hear his breath turn to ragged gasps, feel his thighs trembling beneath your hands.
"I'm not going to-" His voice breaks. "I'm going to-"
You pull back. Just before he falls over the edge.
He whimpers. His hips buck up, searching for your mouth, your hand, anything. "Please-"
You stroke him slowly, watching his face. His head is thrown back, his jaw slack, his hands fisted in the sheets. "Please," he says again. "Please, I need-"
"You need what?"
"I need to cum. Please. I've been waiting-I've been-" His voice cracks. His hips jerk up, desperate, searching.
You lean down, take him in your mouth again. His whole body arches off the bed, a broken sound tearing from his throat. You work him fast now, your hand moving with your mouth, feeling him swell, feeling his thighs shake, feeling his control slip away.
"I'm-" His voice is barely a word. "I'm-"
You pull back again.
He cries out. His hands fly to his face, covering his eyes, his whole body trembling. "Please- I- mmm stop being so mean," he whispers. "Please, I can't-I need-"
You climb up his body, straddle his hips. His hands fall away from his face, his eyes finding yours. They're wet. His cheeks are flushed, his lips parted, his whole body open and waiting.
"You want to cum?" you ask. He nods. "Then beg."
His hands grip your thighs. His voice is hoarse, broken. "Please. Please, I'll do anything. I've been waiting for four years. I've been wanting you for four years. Please let me- please let me feel you-"
You reach between your legs, position him at your entrance. His hips buck up, desperate, but you hold him down. "Say my name."
"Y/N." His voice cracks. "Y/N, please-"
You sink down onto him.
He cries out. His back arches, his hands grip your thighs, his head falls back against the pillows. You move slowly at first, watching his face, watching the way his eyes roll back, his jaw slack, the rise and fall of his chest. "You feel so good," he gasps. "So good-"
You move faster. His hands slide up your thighs, your hips, your waist. He's not trying to control. He's just holding on, his fingers pressing into your skin, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"I'm close," he says. "I'm so close-"
You slow down. He groans, his head thrashing against the pillows. "Not yet," you say. "Please," he begs. You start moving again, fast, hard, watching his face, watching the way his control slips, the way his body strains beneath you.
"I'm going to-" His voice is desperate. "I can't-"
You slow down again.
He sobs. His hands grip your thighs, his nails digging in, his whole body shaking. "Please," he begs. "Please, I need to cum. I need-"
You lean down, your mouth close to his ear. "Flip us over."
He moves before you finish the sentence. His hands find your waist, rolling you onto your back, settling between your legs. His breaths coming out unbalanced, his face flushed, his eyes wild. He looks down at you. His hands are trembling. His whole body is trembling. "Can I?" he asks, his voice rough. "Can I-"
You nod.
He pushes into you fast moving even faster. Deeper than before. His forehead is pressed against yours, his breath hot on your lips, his hands tangled in your hair. Each thrust deliberate, each movement pulling sounds from your throat you didn't know you could make.
"You feel that?" His voice is low, rough. "You feel what you do to me?"
You nod. You can't speak.
He moves even faster. His rhythm is sloppy, uncontrolled, the kind of rhythm that comes from someone who's found his place and found his pace. "I've got you princess," he says. "I've got you."
His hand slides between your bodies, his fingers finding you, working you in time with his thrusts. The pressure builds, spiraling, tightening, until you can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything except feel.
"I want to feel you cum," he says. "I want to feel you fall apart on me."
You shatter. Your body clenches around him, your nails dig into his back, his name tears from your throat. He follows a moment later, his face buried in your neck, his body shuddering against yours, his voice breaking on your name.
He collapses beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you against him. His chest is heaving, his skin slick with sweat, his heart pounding so hard you can feel it through his ribs. For a moment, neither of you speaks. The room is quiet, the city distant, the world reduced to the space between you.
He lifts his head, looks at you. His face is soft, open, the way it only is when it's just the two of you. "You did that on purpose," he says.
You smile. "Did what?"
"Edged me. Made me beg." His fingers trace patterns on your skin. "You liked that."
"You liked it too."
He laughs, low and warm. "I loved it." He pulls you closer, his arm tight around your waist, his face buried in your hair. You close your eyes. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, his breath warm on your skin, his arms holding you like you're something precious. He presses a kiss to your forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."
You smile against his chest. "Good."
The library is quiet in that particular way it gets on Thursday afternoons. You're at your usual table near the window, your books spread out around you. You've been staring at the same page for thirty minutes, your mind elsewhere, replaying the party. Jake's hands on your waist. Heeseung's voice in your ear.
You're still thinking about it when a coffee cup appears in your peripheral vision. You don't need to look up. You know that cup. You know that hand. You look up. He's sliding into the chair across from you, his jacket unzipped, his hair still damp from a shower. He looks tired, the shadows under his eyes darker than usual, but there's something in his face that makes your chest tighten.
You take a sip of the coffee. It's perfect. It's always perfect.
"Why are you here, Heeseung?" you ask. "It's three o'clock on a Thursday. You don't come to the library. You've never come to the library."
He shrugs, but there's something in his expression that shifts. "Maybe I wanted to see you."
"You see me every day."
"I see you across the quad. I see you in the dining hall. I see you dancing with Jake at parties." You notice the way his jaw tightens, just slightly at the mention of Jake. "That's not the same as seeing you."
You don't know what to say to that. You don't know what to do with the weight of his words, the way he's looking at you.
He leans forward, his elbows on the table, his voice dropping. "There's a game this weekend. Last one of the season. Scouts are coming."
You raise your eyebrows. "Scouts?"
"Professional teams. They've been watching me for a while." He shrugs, like it's not a big deal, like it's not the thing he's been working toward his whole life.
"Heeseung, that's huge."
"It's just a game."
"It's not just a game and you know it."
He's quiet for a moment. His eyes are fixed on something outside the window, something you can't see. When he looks back at you, his face is different. Softer. More open. "I want you there."
You stare at him. "What?"
"The game. I want you to come." He says it like it's simple, like it's the easiest thing in the world. Like he hasn't been watching you for four years, like he hasn't been waiting, like he hasn't been standing on the edge of something he's not sure he's allowed to want.
"You want me to come to your game."
"I want you to be there." He leans back in his chair, his eyes don't leave your face. "I've been playing for four years. Every game, I look for you in the stands. Even when I know you're not there."
Your chest tightens. "Heeseung-"
"You don't have to say anything." His voice is quiet now, almost careful. "I'm not asking you for anything. I'm not asking you to choose. I'm just asking you to be there. For one game."
"I'll think about it," you say.
He nods slowly. "That's not a no."
"That's not a yes either."
He stands up, pushing his chair back, grabbing his coffee. He's halfway to the door when he turns back. "It's Saturday. Six o'clock. The gym." He pauses. "I hope to see you."
He's gone before you can respond. The door swings shut behind him, and you're left alone with a heart that won't stop pounding.
Saturday comes faster than you expect. The gym is packed when you arrive. The stands are overflowing, students crammed into every seat, people standing along the walls, the air thick with anticipation. There are faces you don't recognize in the front row men in suits with clipboards, scouts from teams you've only seen on TV. The energy is different from the other games. Heavier. Like everyone in this room knows they're about to witness something.
You find a seat near the middle this time. Not hiding. Not tucked away. You want him to see you.
Heeseung is on the court, warming up. He's focused in a way you've never seen, his movements sharp, precise, like he's running through every play in his head before the game even starts. He doesn't look at the stands. He doesn't look at the scouts. He just moves.
The game begins. It's brutal from the start. The other team is good, better than anyone expected. They double team Heeseung every time he touches the ball, throw everything they have at him. For the first half, it works. He's frustrated, you can see it in the set of his jaw, the way his hands clench at his sides when he comes off the court.
At halftime, the score is tied. Heeseung sits on the bench, his head in his hands. You watch him. You watch the coach crouch beside him, say something you can't hear. Heeseung nods. He looks up. He looks at you.
For a moment, everything else fades. The noise, the crowd, the pressure. He looks at you like you're the only thing keeping him grounded. You give him a small smile with a little nod. Just once. He nods back.
The second half is different. Heeseung comes out like a different player. His movements are faster, sharper, like something has unlocked inside him. He drives past defenders, sinks shots from impossible angles, directs his teammates with confidence. The crowd feels it too the shift, the electricity.
The score tightens. The clock winds down. Ninety seconds left. Heeseung's team is down by two. He takes the ball. He drives. Defenders close in on all sides, three of them, bodies pressing against him, hands reaching. He should pass. Everyone in the gym knows he should pass. But he doesn't. He jumps.
The ball arcs through the air. Time slows. The crowd holds its breath. The ball hits the backboard, spins on the rim once, twice- Drops through.
The gym explodes. He stands there for a moment, frozen, the noise washing over him. Then he looks up. He finds you. His face breaks into something you've never seen before pure, unguarded joy. He points at you, just a finger raised, a gesture that says I did this for you. His teammates mob him, lift him onto their shoulders. You stay in your seat, your heart pounding, they won. He won.
After the game, you wait for him outside the locker room. The hallway is empty, the crowd long gone, the noise of the celebration faded to a distant echo. You lean against the wall, your hands in your pockets, trying to calm your heart.
A player you recognize from the team walks out, his bag over his shoulder. He sees you, stops. "You looking for Heeseung?" You nod. He grins. "He's in there. Took the longest shower of his life. Said he needed to cool down." He nods toward the door. "Go ahead. He won't mind." He disappears down the hallway before you can respond.
The locker room door is heavy. You push it open slowly, the sound echoing off the walls. It's empty. The benches are covered with towels, the air thick with the smell of soap and sweat. You hear water running from somewhere in the back, the hiss of a shower, the low hum of someone humming under their breath. You follow the sound.
Heeseung is standing at the sinks, his back to you, a towel slung low on his hips. His hair is wet, dripping onto his shoulders, onto his back, onto the floor. His skin is still flushed from the shower, still warm, still damp. The muscles in his shoulders move as he reaches for something on the counter, a roll of tape, a bottle of something you don't recognize. Water drips down his spine, following the line of his back, disappearing into the towel at his waist.
You can't breathe. You can't move. You can't stop watching.
He turns. He sees you.
For a moment, neither of you moves. The water drips from his hair onto his chest, trails down his stomach, disappears. His chest is still heaving from the game, from the shower, from whatever he was thinking about before you walked in. His arms are bare, the muscles defined in a way you've only imagined, his skin warm and damp and close enough to touch.
"You came," he says. His voice is rough, lower than usual.
"I said I would."
He takes a step toward you. Water drips from his hair onto his shoulders. "You watched?"
"Every second."
"You saw the shot?"
You nod. "I saw it."
He takes another step. He's close enough now that you can smell the soap on his skin, something clean and sharp. Close enough that you can see the water still clinging to his collarbone, his chest, the hollow of his throat.
"I made that shot for you," he says. "Every point. Every play. I did it for you."
Your heart stops. "Heeseung-"
"You want to know why I asked you to come? Why I needed you here?" His hand comes up, his fingers brushing your cheek, leaving a trail of water on your skin. "Because I can't do anything without thinking about you. I can't play without looking for you in the stands. I can't breathe without wondering if you're thinking about me too."
His hand slides into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands. His face is close, so close you can feel his breath on your lips, warm and uneven. "I've been waiting for four years," he says. "I've been watching you with him. Watching you not choose. Watching you pretend you don't feel this. And I can't do it anymore."
"Feel what?" Your voice is barely a whisper.
He responds by kissing you. It's not soft, not careful, not gentle. It's the kind of kiss that's been building for four years, the kind of kiss that doesn't have room for hesitation. His hands are in your hair, your waist, pulling you against him, and his skin is warm and wet and you can feel every inch of him pressed against you. You kiss him back. Your hands find his chest, his shoulders, his neck, pulling him closer, and he makes a sound against your mouth that sends heat flooding through your body.
He pulls back just enough to breathe, his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. His skin is hot beneath your hands, his heart pounding so hard you can feel it.
"You're still wet," you say.
He laughs, low and rough. "You're not complaining."
Your hands slide down his chest, following the trail of water, feeling the muscles tense beneath your fingers. His breath catches. His hands tighten on your waist. "If you keep doing that," he says, "I'm not going to be able to stop."
You look at him. His hair is dripping onto your face, his skin flushed, his eyes dark. He's shirtless, wet, close enough to touch, and you've never wanted anything more. "Then don't stop."
His hands slide down your body, finding the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. His mouth follows, hot against your collarbone, your shoulder, the space between your breasts. He kisses like he's been waiting his whole life for this, like he's memorizing every inch of you. Your back hits the lockers behind you, metal cold against your skin, and he presses into you, his body warm and solid and everywhere.
"Four years," he breathes against your neck. "Four fucking years I've wanted this. Wanted you."
You pull his face up, kiss him again, and he groans into your mouth, his hands sliding down your back, your hips, your thighs. He lifts you without effort, your legs wrapping around his waist, your back against the lockers, his body pressed against yours. "You have no idea," he says, "what you do to me."
"Then show me Hee."
He kisses you again, and you let yourself fall.
You look at him. His hair is drying, curling at the ends. His face is open, vulnerable. His lips linger on yours for a moment longer, like he's not ready to let go. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark, his breathing uneven. The locker room is quiet around you, the celebration moved somewhere else. It's just the two of you, the lights humming overhead, the smell of soap and sweat still clinging to his skin.
"We should probably get out of here," he says, but he doesn't move. His arm is still around your waist, his fingers still tracing circles on your hip.
"Probably," you agree. You don't move either.
He looks at you for a long moment. Something shifts in his expression something that looks like decision. "Come with me," he says.
You raise an eyebrow. "Where?"
"My dorm. It's closer." He pauses, his thumb stilling on your hip. "Unless you want to go back to your place."
"Your dorm," you say.
He smiles. It's small, real, the smile he only lets you see. He stands up, pulls you with him, his hands finding yours. His palms are warm, his fingers interlacing with yours like it's the most natural thing in the world. "Let's go," he says.
The walk to his dorm is quiet. Heeseung's hand is in yours. His thumb traces patterns on your skin, absent, unconscious, like he's not even thinking about it. His jacket is draped over your shoulders, he put it there before you left the locker room, his hands lingering on your arms, his breath warm on your neck. "You're cold," he had said. "I'm fine." "You're shivering." He had wrapped the jacket around you, pulled it tight, his hands resting on your shoulders for a moment longer than necessary. The jacket smells like him. You've been breathing it in ever since.
Now you walk side by side, not talking, not needing to. The silence between you is comfortable, the kind of silence that comes before something you've been waiting for. You look at him. His face is half-lit, half-shadowed, the streetlight catching the angles of his jaw, the curve of his lips. His hair is almost dry now, falling across his forehead. He's looking at you like you're the only thing in the world that matters. Then he leads you inside.
His dorm is small. The room is cluttered in that particular way boys' rooms are clothes draped over a chair, textbooks stacked on the desk, a basketball in the corner that you know he's had since freshman year. He closes the door behind you. The lock clicks. The sound echoes in the quiet room.
He moves toward you slowly, like he's giving you time to change your mind. His hands find your waist, his fingers settling on the fabric of his jacket, still wrapped around you. His face is close, close enough that you can see the sparkle in his eyes, the slight tremor in his hands. "You have no idea," he says, "how long I've wanted this."
You reach up, your fingers brushing his jaw. His skin is warm, slightly rough, and he leans into your touch like he's been waiting for it. "Then stop talking about it," you say.
He kisses you. It's different from the locker room. Slower. Deeper. His hands slide under his jacket, finding your waist, your hips, pulling you against him. Your back hits the door, and he presses into you, his body warm and solid, his mouth moving against yours like he's learning you, memorizing you. His hands push the jacket off your shoulders. It falls to the floor, pooling at your feet. His mouth is on your neck, your collarbone, your throat, and every kiss sends heat flooding through your body.
"We should move to the bed," he murmurs against your skin.
"Then move."
He laughs, picks you up, carries you across the room. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck, and he lays you down on his bed, the sheets cool against your back, his body warm above you. He pulls back just enough to look at you. His hair is falling across his forehead, his eyes dark. "You're so fucking beautiful," he says. "You have no idea."
You pull him down, kiss him, and let yourself fall.
"You think about me when you're with him?" His thumb traces your jaw, tilting your face up. "When he's inside you, are you thinking about me?" You shake your head. "I don't-" "Don't lie to me, thought I wasn't going to find out that a pretty girl like you is out messing with a boy who cant handle all this?"His voice is soft, almost gentle, but his hand tightens on your throat. Just enough. Just enough to make your head spin. "I can smell him on you. I can see it in your eyes. You've been thinking about me this whole time. Wondering what it would be like if I was the one making you fall apart."
Your knees go weak. He feels it, pulls you closer, his thigh pressing between your legs. "That's what you want, isn't it?" His mouth is at your ear, his breath hot on your skin. "You want me to take over. You want me to make you forget his name."
"He was just-"
He cuts you off with a kiss. Hard. Deep. His tongue slides against yours, and his hands are everywhere your hair, your waist, your thighs. He kisses like he's claiming you, like he's erasing every other touch you've ever felt. His teeth catch your lower lip, pulling, biting down just enough to make you moan into his mouth. When he pulls back, you're breathless. Your head spins. Your hands find his shoulders just to steady yourself, but he grabs your wrists, pins them above your head.
"You want to know what I thought about all night?" His thumb traces your lower lip, pulling it down, watching the way your breath hitches. "I thought about getting you alone. Thought about taking you apart. Thought about making you forget your own name. Thought about the sounds you'd make when I finally got my hands on you."
Your knees go weak. He notices. His mouth curves into something that's not quite a smile but something darker, hungrier. "That's what you want, isn't it? You want someone to take control. Someone to tell you what to do. Someone to make you stop thinking for once. Someone who knows exactly how to take you apart."
You swallow. Your throat is dry. Your wrists are still pinned above your head, his grip firm enough that you couldn't move even if you wanted to. "Yes Hee."
His hands drop to the hem of your shirt. He pulls it over your head in one motion, and the cool air hits your skin. His eyes move down your body, slow, deliberate, like he's cataloging every inch of you. His gaze lingers on your breasts, on the way your chest rises and falls with each ragged breath. "Good," he says. "Because tonight, you don't get to think. You don't get to decide. You don't get to do anything unless I tell you to. Understand?"
You nod.
His hands move down your body, finding the waistband of your pants. He pulls them off slow, his eyes never leaving your face. Your underwear follows, and then you're bare beneath him, your chest heaving, your thighs pressed together, your body aching for his touch. He spreads your legs. His hand slides between them, his fingers finding you wet and ready.
"So wet for me," he says. "You've been thinking about this all night, haven't you?"
"Fuck yes I have."
"What were you thinking about? Tell me."
His finger slides inside you, slow, and you gasp. "Thinking about-about your hands. Your mouth. The way you-"
His finger curls, finds the spot that makes your hips buck. "The way I what?"
"The way you take control." Your voice is barely a whisper. "Mmmm the way you make me feel like nothing else matters."
He adds a second finger. His thumb finds your clit, circles it slow, and the sounds coming out of your mouth are desperate, broken, nothing you've ever heard yourself make before. "You take it so well," he says. "You're so good for me. So fucking perfect."
His fingers move faster, his thumb pressing harder, and the pressure building in your belly is too much, not enough, everything you've been waiting for. "Look at me," he says. "I want to see your face when you cum."
You open your eyes. He's watching you, his eyes dark, his mouth parted, his hand working between your legs. "That's it," he says. "Let go. Cum for me."
You shatter. Your body clenches around his fingers, your back arches off the bed, his name rips from your throat. He doesn't stop. He keeps moving, keeps pressing, keeps pushing you higher, until the waves of your orgasm are still rolling through you and he's still not done. "You can give me more," he says. "I know you can." You shake your head. "I can't-" "You can." His fingers curl inside you, his thumb presses harder. "You're going to cum for me again."
The pressure builds again, faster this time, the sensitivity making your whole body tremble. He doesn't let up. He pushes and pushes and pushes, and when you come again, it's with a scream, your body convulsing, liquid flooding his hand, soaking the sheets beneath you. "Good girl," he says.
He pulls his shirt over his head. His chest is bare, his skin flushed, his muscles tensing as he unbuckles his belt. His pants fall to the floor, and then he's above you, his body covering yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He kisses you again, slower this time, like he has all the time in the world. His hands find the clasp of your bra, undo it, let it fall. His mouth follows, down your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breasts. He takes his time. He doesn't rush. He wants you to feel every second of this.
His tongue circles your nipple, and your back arches. Your hands find his hair, fingers tangling in the strands, pulling. He bites down just enough to make you gasp and then his mouth is on the other breast, his hand replacing his mouth on the first, his thumb and finger rolling your nipple until you're squirming against him. He pulls back. "I didn't say you could touch." Your hands drop. Your chest heaves. He watches you for a moment, his eyes dark, his lips parted, a thin line of saliva still connecting his mouth to your skin. He kisses down your body connecting his lips to your wet pussy.
The first touch of his tongue makes your hips jerk. His hands grip your thighs, holding you in place, his fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks. He works you slow, deliberate, his tongue moving in circles that make your vision blur. He knows exactly what he's doing. Your hands find his hair again. This time he doesn't pull away. He lets you hold on, lets you grip the strands, lets you use him to ground yourself as the pressure builds in your belly.
He adds a finger. Then two. Curling them inside you, finding the spot that makes you see stars, and his mouth never stops. His tongue is relentless, circling, pressing, sucking, driving you higher and higher until you're trembling, until you're gasping, until you're right on the edge. The sounds coming out of your mouth are desperate, broken, nothing like the composed person you are in the rest of your life.
"I'm close," you breathe. "I'm-"
He pulls back.
You cry out. The sound echoes off the walls, raw and needy. Your legs are shaking. Your whole body is shaking. Your hands pull at his hair, trying to drag his mouth back to where you need him, but he doesn't move. "Did I say you could come?" You shake your head. Your voice is gone.
He lowers his mouth again. Slower this time. Teasing. His tongue traces patterns on you, learning you again, taking you apart piece by piece. He spells out letters- your initials, his, words you can't quite make out and each stroke of his tongue sends electricity through your body. His fingers move inside you, slow and deep, and he builds you up again, higher this time, pushing you toward something you can't name.
Your hips move against his mouth. Your hands pull his hair. You're beyond thinking, beyond words, beyond anything except the feeling of him, the pressure building, the need coiling tight in your belly. "Please," you gasp. "Please, I need-"
He pulls back again.
You sob. The sound tears out of you, raw and desperate, and he stands up, his mouth slick, his chin wet, his eyes dark, his chest heaving. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, watching you fall apart against the door. "You want to cum?" he asks. "Mhhmm Yes." "Beg like the good fucking whore you are."
You look at him. His face is hard, his jaw tight, his hands on your hips. His thumbs press into the hollow of your hip bones, holding you in place. He's not going to give you what you want. He's going to make you ask for it. He's going to make you earn it.
"Please," you say. Your voice cracks. "Please, Heeseung. I need to cum. I need you to let me cum. I'll be good. I'll be so good. Just please-"
He kisses you. You can taste yourself on his lips, slick and sweet, and he swallows your sounds as his hands move to his belt, slow, deliberate, and the sound of leather sliding through metal makes your thighs press together. He sees it. His mouth curves. He pulls his jeans down, kicks them aside. His boxers follow. He's hard, thick, his cock curving up toward his stomach, and your mouth waters at the sight of him. He wraps his hand around himself, strokes once, twice, watching your face.
"You want this?" he asks. "Yes." "How bad?" "So bad. I need it. I need you."
He climbs onto the bed. His body covers yours, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his hips settling between your legs. The heat of him radiates through your skin. "You want to cum for me?" he says against your mouth. "Then cum for me."
He pushes inside you in one motion.
Your body arches. Your hands claw at his back. He's thick, stretching you, filling you, and the pressure of him inside you after being denied for so long makes your eyes roll back. He doesn't wait. He doesn't give you time to adjust. He moves hard, fast, his hips driving into you, his mouth on your neck, his hands gripping your thighs.
The sound of it fills the room. Skin slapping against skin. The bed frame hitting the wall. Your moans, his grunts, the wet sounds of him moving inside you. He fucks you like he's been waiting for this, like he's been holding back for years, like every night he spent watching you with Jake is being driven out of him with every thrust.
"You feel that?" he asks, his voice rough in your ear. "You feel how good you are for me? How perfect you are when you're not thinking, not fighting, just taking what I give you?"
You can't answer. You can't speak. Your nails dig into his back, leaving red trails down his shoulder. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groans, his rhythm faltering for just a moment before he drives into you harder.
"Look at you," he says. He pulls back just enough to watch his cock disappear inside you, to watch the way your body takes him. "Look how wet you are. How hungry you are. You've been waiting for this. Waiting for someone to fuck you like this."
He reaches between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, pressing in time with his thrusts. The pressure builds faster this time, coiling tighter, pushing you toward the edge you've been denied twice now. Your vision blurs. Your hands grip his arms, his shoulders, anything you can hold onto.
"You're going to cum for me," he says. "You're going to cum so hard you forget your own name. And when you do, I want you to say my name. I want everyone to hear who you belong to."
His thumb presses harder. His hips drive deeper. His body is slick with sweat, his hair falling across his forehead, his jaw tight with concentration. He's watching you fall apart, watching the moment your control breaks, watching you shatter underneath him.
"Now," he says. "Cum for me. Now."
The pressure inside you breaks.
You scream. His name tears from your throat, loud in the quiet room, and your body clenches around him, pulling him deeper, holding him there. Your back arches off the bed, your hands grip his arms hard enough to bruise, and you feel everything every nerve, every muscle, every cell of your body release at once.
He groans, his face buried in your neck, his hips stuttering against yours. His body tenses, his grip on your thighs tightens, and he follows you over the edge, his voice breaking on your name, his body shuddering against yours, his cock pulsing inside you.
He collapses beside you. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you against him, his face buried in your hair. You're both breathing hard, your skin slick with sweat, your bodies tangled together in the sheets. His chest is heaving against your back. His heart is pounding so hard you can feel it through his ribs.
He presses a kiss to your shoulder. "You okay?"
You nod. Your voice is gone.
He pulls you closer. His hand finds yours, his fingers interlacing with yours, and he holds you in the quiet. He laughs low and warm, the sound vibrating through his chest into your back. "Amazing. You were amazing."
You turn in his arms, face him. His face is soft now, the hard lines gone, the control slipped away. He looks like the boy who brought you coffee on Tuesdays. His hair is damp, his lips swollen, his eyes heavy-lidded and warm. "I need water," you say.
He kisses your forehead. "I'll get it."
He disappears into the kitchen. You lie in his bed, the sheets tangled around you, your body still humming, your mind quiet for the first time in weeks. Your thighs are sticky, your back is marked with scratches, your lips are swollen. You can still feel him inside you, the ghost of him, the memory of how he filled you.
He comes back with a glass of water, helps you sit up, watches you drink. His eyes move over your body, the marks he left, the way your hair is tangled, the flush still on your skin. When you're done, he takes the glass, sets it on the nightstand, and pulls you back down beside him. His arm wraps around your waist. His leg hooks over yours. He holds you like he's afraid you'll disappear.
"Stay," he says.
You look at him. "Okay."
His arm tightens around you. His breath evens out. His heart slows beneath your ear. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself be held.
The days after the game feel different.
You tell yourself nothing has changed. You still go to class. You still study. You still let Yunjin drag you to the dining hall. But something has shifted. You feel it in the way your body remembers Heeseung's hands, his mouth, the way he said your name. You feel it in the silence that stretches between you and Jake now, the things you're not saying, the secret you're carrying. You're going to tell him. You know you have to. You just need to find the right moment.
The right moment finds you first. It's Thursday. You're sitting on the steps outside the library, trying to focus on a reading you've read three times without absorbing a word. The afternoon sun is warm, the campus quiet, and you've been here for an hour while your mind drifts. You hear footsteps. You don't need to look up to know who it is. You know the rhythm of his walk, the weight of his presence. Jake sits down beside you. He doesn't say anything at first. That's not unusual. Jake is comfortable with silence. But this silence is different. Heavier. Charged.
You look at him. His face is tight. His jaw is set. He's looking at the quad, not at you, and there's something in his posture that makes your stomach tighten. "I heard about the game," he says. You knew this was coming. You've been preparing for it. "Jake-" "I heard you were in the locker room with him. After." His voice is clipped, controlled. "I heard you left together." You take a breath. "Yeah." He turns to look at you. His eyes are cold. You've never seen Jake look at you like this. "So it's true," he says. "You fucked him."
The word lands like a slap. You stare at him. "Excuse me?" "You heard me." He doesn't look away. His voice is flat, emotionless. "You've been stringing me along for four years, making me wait, making me think I had a chance. And the whole time, you were just waiting for him to finally make a move." Your hands curl into fists. "That's not what happened." "No?" He laughs, but there's nothing funny in it. "Then what happened? You just happened to end up in the locker room with him? You just happened to leave together? You just happened to-" "Stop." Your voice is sharp. "You don't get to talk to me like that." "I don't get to?" He stands up. You stand with him. "I've been here for four years. Four years of waiting. Four years of watching you run back and forth between us. And you couldn't even tell me? You let me find out from other people?" "I was going to tell you." "When? After you fucked him again?" His voice rises. "After you decided which one of us was worth your time? After you got tired of playing games?"
Your blood runs hot. "Playing games? You guys are the ones who are acting like I'm some kind of prize." He flinches. Just slightly. But he doesn't back down. "That was back then," he says. "I was stupid. I'm not treating you like a prize anymore. I know what I want. But you've been playing games this whole time. You liked it. You liked having both of us chasing you. You liked the attention. You liked being wanted." The words hit you like a blade. "You don't mean that." "I mean it." His voice is cold, steady. "You've had four years to choose. Four years to figure out what you want. And you didn't. Because you didn't want to choose. You wanted to keep us both on the hook. You wanted to know you could have us whenever you wanted."
Your chest is heaving. Your hands are shaking. "You're just saying this because you're hurt." "I'm saying it because it's true." He steps closer. "You slept with him, and you didn't tell me. You let me sit next to you in class. You let me hold your hand. You let me think-" His voice cracks, but he steadies it. "You let me think I meant something to you. And all that time, you were just waiting for him." Your voice is shaking. "You're standing here, acting like I'm the one who did something wrong, because I slept with someone I've known for four years? Because I didn't tell you fast enough?" "Jake you're not even my boyfriend." He opens his mouth. Closes it. For the first time, he doesn't have a response. Your voice is steady now. "You don't get to be angry because I made a choice you didn't like. You don't get to call me names because I didn't choose you."
He stares at you. His face is pale, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. But he doesn't apologize. He doesn't take it back. "You know what?" he says. "Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you're not worth waiting for." The words hang in the air between you. You feel them like a wound, sharp and deep. "Get away from me," you say. He doesn't move. "I said get the fuck away from me." He turns. He walks away. His shoulders are stiff, his head down. You watch him disappear across the quad, and you don't call after him. You don't run after him. You stand there, your hands shaking, your eyes burning.
You sit back down on the steps. Your books are still spread out around you, your coffee long cold, your phone buzzing in your pocket. You don't look at it. You don't move. You think about what he said. You liked the attention. You liked being wanted. The words echo in your head, looping and repeating. You think about the years of watching them orbit you, never choosing, never having to. About the way you let them both stay close, let them both hope, let them both wait. Your phone buzzes again. You look at it. Yunjin: Jake just showed up at Jay's. He looks like shit. What happened? You stare at the message. Your fingers hover over the keyboard. You type: He found out about Heeseung. He called me a game player. Said I like the attention. Said I wasn't worth waiting for. Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again. Do you want me to come over? You think about it. No, I need to be alone. You type. Okay. I'm here if you need me. You put the phone down. You sit on the steps as the sun sets, as the campus empties, as the light fades to gray. You let the anger settle in your chest. You let the hurt settle underneath it. He was wrong. You know he was wrong. But some part of you wonders if he was right.
Three days pass. You don't talk to Jake. You don't talk to Heeseung. You go to class, you sit in the back, you leave before anyone can catch your eye. Yunjin brings you food you barely eat. Sakura leaves notes on your door. Chae sends you memes that you look at without seeing. You're not sad. You're not angry. You're just empty. On Friday, Yunjin shows up at your apartment. She doesn't knock. She uses the key you gave her freshman year and walks straight into your bedroom, where you've been lying on your bed for the past two hours, staring at the ceiling. "You're coming tonight," she says. You don't look at her. "I'm not going anywhere." "Sunghoon's having a party. Everyone's going to be there." She sits on the edge of your bed, her hand finding your arm. "You need to get out of this apartment. You need to see people. You need to-" "I need to not see them." "Then don't see them. But you can't hide forever." She's right. You hate that she's right.
She pulls out her phone, scrolls for a moment, shows you the screen. A message from Sunghoon in the group chat. Party tonight. Everyone come. No excuses. And then another message, sent a few minutes later. Heeseung said he's coming. He asked if you'll be there. Your heart stutters. You stare at the screen. Three days of silence, and he's asking about you through Sunghoon. Yunjin watches your face. "You don't have to talk to him. But you should go. Get dressed. Dance. Forget about everything for one night." You think about it. About the silence that's been pressing on your chest for three days. About Heeseung's hands, his mouth, the way he said your name. About Jake's voice, cold and sharp, saying maybe you're not worth waiting for. "Fine," you say. "One hour." Yunjin grins. "That's what you always say."
As always the party is already in full swing when you arrive. The music loud enough to feel in your chest, the lights low and golden. You let Yunjin pull you through the crowd, let her put a drink in your hand, let the noise wash over you. For the first time in three days, you feel something other than the weight of everything you've been carrying. You see Heeseung across the room. He's leaning against the wall, a cup in his hand, his jacket unzipped, his hair falling across his forehead. He's talking to Sunoo, but his eyes are scanning the room, looking for something. Looking for you. When he sees you, his face changes. Softens. He excuses himself from Sunoo and starts walking toward you. You could walk away. You could find Yunjin, find Sakura, find anyone who isn't him. You don't. You stand there, your drink in your hand, your heart pounding, and wait.
He stops in front of you. Close enough to touch. His eyes move over your face, your dress, your hands, like he's checking that you're real. "You came," he says. "You asked." He smiles. It's small, real, the smile he only lets you see. "I didn't think you would. After-" You shake your head. "I needed to get out." He nods. He doesn't bring up the locker room, the dorm, the night that's been sitting between you for three days. He just stands there, close enough to touch, and lets the silence be whatever it needs to be. "Drink?" he asks. You hold up your cup. "Already have one." He looks at it, raises an eyebrow. "That's Sunoo's punch. You're braver than I thought." You laugh, and it's the first time you've laughed in days. "It's terrible." "It's always terrible." He takes the cup from your hand, sets it on a nearby table, and offers you his hand. "Dance with me." You look at his hand. At his face. At the boy who's been watching you for four years. "Dance with me," he says again. "Forget about everything. Just for tonight." You take his hand.
He pulls you onto the dance floor. The music is loud, the beat heavy, and he moves with you like he's been waiting for this. His hands find your waist, yours find his shoulders, and for a while, you don't think about anything else. You don't think about Jake. You don't think about the argument. You don't think about the four years of not choosing. He's a good dancer. Not in the careful way Jake is, but in the way that comes from confidence, from knowing exactly what his body can do. His hands move down your back, your hips, pulling you closer, and you let him. "You're staring," he says. "You're worth staring at." He grins. "That's my line." "You've used it enough. I figured I'd borrow it." He pulls you closer, his mouth near your ear. "You look beautiful tonight." Your chest tightens. "Heeseung-" "I just wanted you to know."
The song changes, something slower, and he pulls you against him, your cheek against his chest, his arms around your waist. You can feel his heartbeat, steady and real. "I've missed you," he says quietly. You close your eyes. "I've missed you too." He pulls back after a while. His face is flushed, his hair damp at the temples, his eyes bright. "I need to use the bathroom," he says. "I'll be right back." You nod. He squeezes your hand once, then disappears into the crowd.
You wait. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. The music plays on, the crowd moves around you, and you stand there, waiting for him to come back. Something doesn't feel right. You push through the crowd toward the hallway where the bathrooms are. The hallway is quieter, the music muffled, the lights dim. You pass the bathroom door empty, the light off. He's not there. You keep walking. Toward the back of the house, toward the rooms you've never been in. You find him at the end of the hallway. He's pressed against the wall, a girl in front of him. Her hands are on his chest. Her mouth is on his. And he's kissing her back. You stop. Your hands go cold. Your chest caves in. You watch his hands slide down her sides. You watch her press closer. You watch him kiss her the way he kissed you, and something inside you breaks.
He pulls back first. He says something to her, something you can't hear. She laughs, runs a hand through his hair, and disappears into one of the rooms. He turns. He sees you. His face goes white. "Y/N-" You don't run. You don't cry. You walk toward him, slow and steady, and stop when you're close enough to see the panic in his eyes. "You said you were going to the bathroom," you say. Your voice is calm. You don't know how. "Y/N, it's not what you think." You laugh. It's hollow, empty. "You were kissing her. I saw you." "She came onto me. I wasn't-" "You were kissing her back." Your voice is rising now. "You were kissing her like you kissed me. Like I meant nothing." "That's not true." He reaches for you. You step back. "Don't touch me." He drops his hand. His face is pale, his eyes wide. "Y/N, please. It didn't mean anything. I was drunk. I wasn't thinking. I-" "Really this is the best excuse you got."
His jaw tightens. "That's not fair." "Not fair?" Your voice cracks. "You asked me to come tonight. You danced with me. You told me you missed me. And then you disappeared to kiss someone else while I was waiting for you." "I told you, it didn't mean anything." "Then what did I mean?" You're shaking now. "Was I just something to pass the time until something better came along?" His face hardens. "You're the one who ran back to Jake. You're the one who never chose. You're the one who-" "I didn't run back to Jake. I was trying to figure out what I wanted." "And what did you figure out?" He steps closer, and his voice is sharp now. "Because from where I'm standing, you don't know what you want. You've never known. And you've been dragging both of us along for four years because you're too scared to make a decision."
The words hit you like a blade. "Heeseung, are you serious right now?" "Yes, I'm serious." His voice is cold. "You like the attention. You like knowing we both want you. That's why you never chose. Because if you chose, you'd have to give something up. And you're too selfish to do that." You stare at him. The boy who brought you coffee. The boy who said you were the best thing that ever happened to him. "I slept with you," you say, your voice breaking. "I trusted you. And you're standing here calling me selfish because I caught you kissing someone else?" For a moment, something flickers in his eyes regret, maybe, or shame. But then it's gone. "You should go," he says. You don't move. You can't. "Go, Y/N." His voice is flat. "Go find Jake. Go run back to him like you always do."
The tears come before you can stop them. Hot and fast, streaming down your face, and you hate that he's seeing this, hate that he's the one making you cry. "Fine," you whisper. "You know what I will go run to Jake." You turn. You walk away. You don't look back.
You make it to the front porch before your legs give out. You sink onto the steps, your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking. The tears won't stop. They keep coming, hot and ugly, and you can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything except sit and fall apart. You don't hear the door open. You don't know anyone is there until a jacket settles around your shoulders and a familiar voice says your name. "Y/N." You look up. Jake is kneeling in front of you, his face close, his eyes worried. He's not angry. He's not cold. He's just here. "Hey," he says softly. "Hey, I've got you." You shake your head, try to pull away. "You said I wasn't worth waiting for." He flinches. "I didn't mean it. I was angry. I was hurt. I didn't mean a word of it."
You look at him. His face is open, raw, the way it's always been when it's just the two of you. "He kissed someone else. Heeseung. I saw him. And he said-" Your voice breaks. "He said I'm selfish. He said I like the attention. He said I never choose because I'm too scared to give anything up." Jake's jaw tightens. Something dark passes through his eyes. But he doesn't say anything about Heeseung. He doesn't defend him or attack him. He just looks at you, and his hand finds yours, warm and steady. "He's wrong," he says. "You're not selfish. You're not attention seeking. You're someone who's been hurt, who's been scared, who's been trying to figure out what she wants. And that's okay. That's more than okay." You stare at him. "You really believe that?" "I believe that you're worth waiting for." He squeezes your hand. "I've always believed that. And I'm sorry for what I said. I'm sorry for making you feel like you weren't."
The tears come again, but they're different now. Softer. He pulls you into his arms, his hand on your back, his chin on your head, and you let him hold you. You let yourself be held. "I've got you," he says again. "I'm not going anywhere." You close your eyes. His chest is warm, his arms steady, his heart beating beneath your ear. For the first time in days, you let yourself breathe.
You sit on the steps for a long time, Jake's jacket around your shoulders, his arm around your waist, his hand on your hip. The party noise is muffled behind you, the voices fading into background noise. The night is cool, you're still trying to catch your breath, still trying to stop the tears that keep coming no matter how hard you press your palms to your eyes. Jake doesn't say anything. He doesn't tell you it's going to be okay. He doesn't ask any questions. He just sits beside you, his arm steady around you, his thumb tracing slow circles on your side, waiting.
Your breathing evens out after a while. The tears slow, then stop. You lean into him, your head on his shoulder, and let yourself exist in the quiet. "I'm sorry," you say finally. Your voice is hoarse, raw. "What for?" "For everything. For not telling you about Heeseung. For-" You stop. Your throat tightens. "For making you feel like you were waiting for nothing." He's quiet for a moment. His hand stills on your side. "You didn't make me feel like that," he says. "I said things I didn't mean. I was angry. I was hurt. And I took it out on you. That wasn't fair." "You were right, though." You pull back, look at him. His face is half lit by the porch light, his eyes dark and soft. "I have been running back and forth. I have been scared to choose. I've been so scared of losing one of you that I never let myself have either."
He reaches up, his hand cupping your face, his thumb brushing the tear tracks from your cheek. "You're allowed to be scared. You're allowed to not know what you want. That doesn't make you selfish. That doesn't make you anything except human." You lean into his touch. His palm is warm, his fingers gentle. "I don't want to be scared anymore," you whisper. He looks at you for a long moment. Something shifts in his expression something soft, something careful, something that looks like hope. "Then let me help you forget," he says. You blink. "What?" "Tonight. Forget about Heeseung. Forget about the fight. Forget about everything that happened." His hand slides into your hair, his fingers threading through the strands. "Let me take you somewhere quiet. Somewhere that's just us. And let me remind you that you're worth everything." Your heart pounds. "Jake" He leans in, his forehead touching yours. His breath is warm on your lips. "I'm not asking for anything you're not ready to give. I'm just asking you to let me be here. Let me help you forget." "Okay," you say.
He smiles. The smile that's been yours since the beginning. He stands, pulls you up with him, and his hand finds yours. "My place," he says. "It's closer." You nod. He squeezes your hand once, and you let him lead you off the porch, away from the party, away from Heeseung, away from everything that happened tonight. The night air is cool on your skin, the streets quiet, the campus empty. His hand is warm in yours, his thumb tracing patterns on your palm, and for the first time in days, you let yourself breathe.
The morning after Jake's apartment, you wake up in your own bed. You only remember his hands, his mouth, the way he said your name. You remember the quiet afterwards, his arm around your waist, his breath warm on your neck, the way he held you like he wasn't ready to let go. You stayed until the sun came up. And then you left. Now you're lying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece together everything that's happened in the past week. Heeseung in the locker room. Jake on the porch. Heeseung's hands, Jake's mouth. The way both of them said your name like it meant something. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You reach for it without looking. Yunjin: I'm coming over. Don't try to stop me. You don't try to stop her.
She shows up twenty minutes later with coffee and a bag of pastries. She doesn't say anything at first. She just sets the coffee on your nightstand, kicks off her shoes, and climbs into bed beside you. You lie there for a moment, side by side, staring at the ceiling. "I slept with Jake after Sunghoon's party and with Heeseung after his game," you say. She doesn't react. You keep going. "Then Jake found out. He said some things. I said some things. We didn't talk for days." You take a breath. "Then at Sunghoon's most recent party, Heeseung kissed someone else. I saw it. We had a fight. He said I was selfish. He said I like the attention. He said I never choose because I'm too scared to give anything up." Yunjin's hand finds yours. She doesn't say anything. "And then Jake found me on the porch. He took me to his place. And I slept with him again."
The words hang in the air. You wait for her to say something to tell you that you're wrong, that you're making a mistake, that you need to figure out what you want before you hurt everyone including yourself. Instead, she squeezes your hand. "That's a lot," she says. You laugh. It's weak. "That's all you have to say?" "I have a lot to say. I'm just trying to figure out where to start." She turns on her side, facing you. "How do you feel? About both of them?" You think about it. About Heeseung's hands in the locker room, the way he looked at you after the game, the way he said he made that shot for you. About Jake on the porch, his arms around you, the way he said you're worth waiting for. "I don't know," you admit. "I care about both of them. I've cared about both of them for four years. And I keep thinking that if I just had more time, I'd figure it out. But it's been four years, Yunjin. And I still don't know."
She's quiet for a moment. Then "Can I tell you something?" You nod. "When I was trying to figure out what I wanted with Jay, I kept waiting for a sign. Something that would tell me it was the right choice. And I waited so long that I almost missed it. I almost let fear keep me from something that could have been really good." She looks at you. "You're not going to get a sign. You're not going to wake up one day and magically know. You have to choose. And it's going to be scary. And you might make the wrong choice. But not choosing that's a choice too. And it's the one that hurts everyone the most."
You stare at her. "Since when did you get so wise?" She smiles. "Since I spent two years watching you do exactly what I was doing." You laugh, and it's real this time. "What should I do?" "I think you should talk to him. Heeseung. Hear what he has to say." She squeezes your hand. "Not because you have to forgive him. Not because you have to choose him. But because you deserve to know the whole story before you make up your mind."
You think about it. About Heeseung's face in the hallway, the way he said you should go. About the fight, the words that are still echoing in your head. "What if he was right?" you ask. "What if I am selfish? What if I do just like the attention?" Yunjin's face hardens. "He was wrong. He was hurt and he was angry and he said things he shouldn't have said. But that doesn't mean you should let those words live in your head forever." She sits up, swings her legs over the side of the bed. "Talk to him. Hear him out. And then decide what you want." She leaves before you can respond. The door closes behind her, and you're alone again, staring at the ceiling, thinking about her words.
He texts you that afternoon. Can we talk? You stare at the message for a long time. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard. Where? The library steps. Where we always used to meet. I'll wait. You put your phone down. You get dressed. You walk across campus, your hands in your pockets, your heart pounding.
He's sitting on the steps when you arrive. His jacket is unzipped, his hair is messy, and he looks like he hasn't slept. When he sees you, he stands up, and for a moment, neither of you moves. "Thanks for coming," he says. You don't say anything. You sit down on the steps. After a moment, he sits beside you. Not too close. Far enough that you could walk away if you wanted to. "I was wrong," he says. "At the party. Everything I said it was wrong. I was angry. I was hurt. And I took it out on you." You look at him. "You kissed someone else." He flinches. "I know." "After you asked me to come. After you danced with me. After you said you missed me." "I know." His voice cracks. "I don't have an excuse. I was scared. I was-" He stops. Runs a hand through his hair. "I saw you with Jake. At the party before. I saw you dancing with him. And I couldn't stop thinking about it. About you. About him. About what it would be like when you finally chose him." "That doesn't give you the right to kiss someone else." "I know." He turns to look at you. His eyes are red rimmed, his face open in a way you've rarely seen. "I've been in love with you for four years. And I've been watching you with him, watching you not choose, telling myself that if I just waited long enough, you'd see me the way I see you. And then you came to the game. You came to the locker room. You came to my dorm. And I thought-" His voice breaks. "I thought maybe I'd finally won. Maybe you'd finally chosen me."
You don't say anything. You let him talk. "And then I saw you with Jake at the party. The way you looked at him. The way he looked at you. And I realized-" He stops. Swallows. "I realized I was never going to be him. I was never going to be the one you ran to when things got hard. I was never going to be the one who stayed." "You never stayed," you say quietly. "That was the problem. You were always leaving. Always disappearing. Always making me wait while you figured out what you wanted." He looks at you. "Is that what you think?" "That's what you did."
He's quiet for a moment. "I was scared. Every time I get close to you, I get scared. Scared that you'd choose him. Scared that I wasn't good enough. Scared that if I let myself want you too much, I'd lose you. So I pushed. I pulled away. I made excuses. And I hurt you because I was too scared to let myself be hurt." You look at him. At the man who's been running from something he's wanted for four years. "I'm not asking you to forgive me," he says. "I'm not asking you to choose me. I just-I needed you to know before it's too late, before I-." Your throat tightens. "Before you what?" "Nothing, it's nothing dont worry about it." He says voice shaky letting you know it is something to worry about but you don't push.
You look at his hand. At his face. At the years of wanting and waiting and never quite choosing. You take a breath. "I'm glad we were able to talk things out." His hand tightens around yours. "Does that mean-" "It means I'm not going to disappear. It means I'm going to think about what you said. It means-" You stop. Look at him. "It means I'm not going to make a decision right now. I need time." He nods slowly. "I can wait." You pull your hand away. Stand up. He stands with you. "I'm not asking you to wait," you say. He smiles. It's small, sad, real. "I know." You turn. You walk away. You don't look back. But this time, it doesn't feel like an ending.
The weeks after your conversation with Heeseung settle into something you didn't expect. It's not a relationship. It's not a choice. It's not anything you can name. But there's a rhythm now, a balance that wasn't there before. You see Heeseung at practice, watch him from the stands sometimes, let him walk you to class when your schedules align. You see Jake at the dining hall, let him save you a seat, let his hand find yours under the table when no one's looking. Neither of them pushes. Neither of them asks. Neither of them makes you choose. You're not sure if that makes it easier or harder.
"You're doing it again," Yunjin says. You're sitting in her apartment, a textbook open in your lap, your phone face-down on the couch beside you. She's sprawled on the other end, a bag of chips in her hand, watching you with the particular expression she gets when she's about to say something you don't want to hear. "Doing what?" "Staring at nothing. Thinking about them." You look at her. "I'm studying." "You've been on the same page for like an hour." You glance down at your textbook. She's right. You haven't read a single word. Yunjin sets the chips aside, pulls her legs under her. "Talk to me." You close the book. "I don't know what to do." "About which one?" "About both." You lean your head back against the couch, stare at the ceiling. "I keep thinking that if I just had more time, I'd figure it out. But it's been four years, Yunjin."
She's quiet for a bit then says. "Maybe you're not supposed to know. Maybe you're supposed to stop trying to figure it out and just feel." You look at her. "That's very philosophical for someone who spent two years pretending she didn't like Jay." She throws a pillow at you. "I'm trying to help." You catch the pillow, hold it against your chest. "I know. I just don't want to hurt anyone. And I feel like no matter what I do, someone's going to get hurt." She slides closer, her knee bumping yours. "You can't control that. You can only control what you do. And whatever you choose, whatever happens, I'm here. Okay?" You look at her. At the person who's been your anchor for four years. "Okay."
She grins. "Good. Now stop moping. We have a party to get ready for." You blink. "What party?" "Sunghoon's end of semester thing. The big one. Everyone's going to be there." You groan. "Another party?" "This one's different." She's already on her feet, pulling you up. "This is the last one. The final party. The one everyone talks about for years after. You can't miss it." "I'm tired of parties." "You're tired of thinking. That's different."
She pulls you toward her closet, starts flipping through hangers. "You need to let loose. Dance. Drink. Forget about everything for one night. And everyone's going to be there. Jake. Heeseung. The whole group. It's going to be perfect." You lean against the doorframe. "What if I don't want to see them?" "Then don't see them. But you can't hide forever." She pulls out a dress, holds it against you. "Besides, you look hot in this. And if you look hot, you feel hot. And if you feel hot, you stop thinking about stupid boys for five minutes." You look at the dress. It's black, short, the kind of dress you wear when you want to be noticed. The kind of dress you haven't worn in weeks. "Fine," you say. "One hour." She grins. "Ughhhh That's what you always sayyy."
Sunghoon's house is packed as always, the music loud enough to feel in your chest, the lights low and golden. You can hear laughter from every room, see bodies pressed together, catch glimpses of faces you've known for years and faces you've never seen before. Yunjin pulls you through the crowd, her hand tight on your wrist, her energy infectious. She's wearing the dress she bought for tonight, the one she's been saving, and she looks like she's ready to take over the world. "Drink," she says, shoving a cup into your hand. "Sunoo's punch. It's terrible. Drink it anyway." You take a sip. It is terrible. You take another. You let her pull you onto the dance floor, let the music move through you, let yourself forget for a moment that you came here with weights on your chest. Yunjin is laughing, her arms around your neck, her voice loud in your ear, and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself exist in the moment.
You see Jake across the room. He's leaning against the wall, a cup in his hand, watching you with something soft in his eyes. When you catch his gaze, he smiles, small and real, and something in your chest loosens. You see Heeseung on the other side. He's standing with Sunghoon, his favorite leather jacket on , his hair falling across his forehead. He's watching you too, his expression unreadable, but when your eyes meet, he nods. Just once. You look away first.
The night moves on. You dance until your feet hurt. You drink until the edges of the room go soft. You laugh at things that aren't funny, let yourself be pulled from room to room, let the noise and the lights and the bodies press in around you until you forget why you were ever scared. Yunjin finds you in the kitchen, her face flushed, her hair escaping from the clip she's been fighting all night. "Sunghoon's setting up a game," she says, breathless. "What game?" She grins. "Seven minutes in heaven. You're playing." You shake your head. "I'm not playing." "You're playing." She grabs your arm, pulls you toward the living room. "Everyone's playing. It's tradition."
The living room has been transformed. A bottle sits in the center of the floor, surrounded by pillows and cushions, and the hallway leading to the bedrooms is dimly lit, a closet at the end waiting. People are gathered in a circle, sitting on the floor, leaning against walls, cups in hands, faces lit up with anticipation. You see Jake on one side of the circle, Heeseung on the other. They're not looking at each other. They're looking at you. Yunjin pulls you down beside her. Sunghoon is in the center, his phone in his hand, his face serious. "Rules are simple," he announces. "Spin the bottle. Seven minutes in the closet. Whatever happens in there stays in there."
The first spin lands on Sunoo and a girl you don't recognize. They disappear down the hallway, and the room holds its breath. Seven minutes later, they emerge, flushed and laughing, and the circle erupts. The bottle spins again. And again. Each time, two people disappear down the hallway, and the room waits, and the night stretches on. You're watching, not participating, when Sunghoon calls your name. "Your turn." You look at him. "I'm not playing." "You're playing." He's already reaching for the bottle, his fingers wrapping around the glass. "It's your senior year. You can't say no." He spins. The bottle turns. Once. Twice. Three times. It slows, wobbles, stops. Pointing directly at Jake.
The room erupts. Yunjin shoves you forward, and you stumble into the center of the circle. Across from you, Jake is already standing, his face unreadable, his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on you. "Seven minutes," Sunghoon announces, pulling out his phone. "Timer starts now." Someone pushes you toward the hallway. Jake follows. The closet door closes behind you, and suddenly it's just the two of you, in the dark, the noise of the party muffled to a distant hum.
The closet is small. There's barely enough room for the two of you, your shoulders touching. Clothes hang above you, jackets and coats that smell like Sunghoon's house, like the parties you've been coming to for four years. For a moment, neither of you moves. "Hi," he says. "Hi." He laughs softly. "This isn't how I pictured our next conversation going." "How did you picture it?" "I don't know. Less... closet." You laugh, and it's nervous, maybe, or something else you don't want to name. "It's very closet." "Very closet." He shifts beside you, his arm brushing yours. "I've been wanting to talk to you. For a while. About what happened at the party. About ya know everything." "You don't have to explain." "I want to." He turns to face you, and even in the dark, you can see his face, the sparkle in his eyes, the openness that's always been there. "I've been in love with you since freshman year. I know you're not ready to hear that. I know you're still figuring things out. But I needed you to know. Before everything changes."
Your heart is pounding. "Jake-" "I'm not asking you to choose. I'm not asking you to be ready. I'm just asking you to let me be here. For as long as you want me." You step closer. He doesn't move. He waits. You kiss him. It's soft. Gentle. The way he's always been. His hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks, and he kisses you back like he's been waiting for this his whole life. His lips are warm, his hands steady, and for a moment, there's nothing else. No party. No future. No choices. Just him. He pulls back first, his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven. "I don't want to rush you," he breathes. "You're not rushing me." "I don't want to be something you regret." You look at him, his dark eyes, his swollen lips, the way he's looking at you like you're the only thing that matters. "You're not something I regret," you say. "You never have been." He kisses you again, and this time, there's nothing careful about it.
Neither of you hears the timer. The door opens. Light floods in, and you blink, disoriented, your hands still tangled in Jake's hair, his arms still wrapped around your waist. Heeseung is standing in the doorway. His face is unreadable. His hands are clenched at his sides. He looks at you. He looks at Jake. He looks at the way Jake's hands are on your waist, the way your fingers are still in his hair. "Time's up," he says. His voice is flat. You step back. Jake's hands fall away. The hallway is crowded. People are watching. You can feel their eyes on you, waiting to see what happens next. Yunjin is at the front of the crowd, her hand over her mouth. Sunghoon is beside her, his phone still in his hand, the timer long since finished.
Heeseung doesn't move. He just stands there, blocking the door, his eyes fixed on you. "Out," he says. You move to leave. But before you can step past him, his hand shoots out, blocking the door. "Not you," he says. He looks at Jake. "Him." Jake tenses. "Heeseung-" "Out." For a moment, no one moves. Then Jake looks at you, something unreadable in his eyes. And walks away. Heeseung doesn't give you time to process what's happening before he drags you into a room. Little did you know Jake was just a few steps behind.
It's just you and Heeseung, in the room, the noise of the party fading to nothing. He doesn't touch you. He doesn't move. He just stands there, his hand still on the wall behind you, his breathing heavy. "You've been doing this for four years," he says. "Running back and forth. Making us wait. Making us want." "Heeseung-" He turns to face you. His eyes are dark, his jaw tight, his chest heaving. "I've been watching you with him. Watching you not choose. And I told myself it was fine. I told myself I could wait. But I can't keep doing this." "What are you saying?" He steps closer. Close enough that you can feel the heat of him, smell the familiar scent of his jacket, see the pulse beating in his throat. "I'm saying that if you want him, I need you to choose. Not because I think I deserve you. But because I can't keep being the person you come to when you're not sure about him."
Your throat tightens. "I never used you." "I know." His voice is softer now. "I know you didn't. But I've been waiting for four years for you to see me the way I see you. And I don't think you ever will." You stare at him. "Don't say that." "It's the truth." He steps closer, his body nearly touching yours. His hand comes up, his fingers brushing your cheek. You lean into his touch without thinking, your body betraying you, wanting him even when you're not sure you should. "Then stop pretending," you whisper. His eyes darken. His hand slides into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands. "Tell me what you want," he says. You look at him. At the man who's been chasing you for four years. "I want you," you say. "I want both of you." His breath catches. His hand tightens in your hair. "Both of us?" You nod. Your heart is pounding, your chest tight, your body humming with something you've never let yourself want before.
He pulls back, just enough to look at you. Something passes through his eyes, surprise, maybe, or hunger, or something else you can't name. He opens the door of the room. The hallway is empty now, the crowd moved on, the game forgotten. But to your surprise Jake is right outside the door looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "Jake," he calls. His face is guarded, his hands in his pockets, his eyes moving between you and Heeseung. Heeseung looks at Jake, and something passes between them, something that looks like understanding. "She wants both of us," Heeseung says. Jake's eyes widen. He looks at you. "Is that true?" He says stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.
You step forward, your hand still in Heeseung's, your eyes on Jake. "I'm tired of choosing," you say. "I'm tired of running back and forth. I'm tired of pretending I don't want what I want." Jake stares at you. His hands drop to his sides. His face is open, raw, the way it only is when it's just the two of you. "And what do you want?" he asks. You look between them. Heeseung on one side, his hand tight around yours, his eyes dark, his chest heaving. Jake on the other, his face soft, his hands reaching for you, his heart in his hands. "I want you," you say. "Both of you. Tonight."
The silence that follows is louder than anything they could have said. Heeseung moves first. He pulls you toward him, his hand cupping your face, his mouth finding yours. He kisses you hard, desperate, like he's been waiting for this his whole life. You kiss him back, your hands fisting in his jacket, pulling him closer. When he pulls back, Jake is there. His hand finds your waist, turning you toward him, and his mouth is on yours, softer, slower, the way he's always been. You're between them. You've always been between them. But this time it's different. Heeseung's hand slides down your back. Jake's hand finds your hip. They're both touching you, both holding you, both looking at you like you're the only thing in the world that matters. Heeseung's lips brush your ear. "You sure about this?" You look at Jake. He nods. You look at Heeseung. His eyes are dark, his breathing uneven, his hand steady on your waist. "I'm sure," you say.
Heeseung looks at Jake. Something passes between them years of competition, of wanting, of waiting. And then Heeseung nods. "You've been thinking about this," he says. His voice is low, rough. "Haven't you?" Your breath catches. "Heeseung-" "Answer me." His hand slides up your throat, giving it a slight squeeze and letting it rest there, his thumb pressed against your pulse. He can feel how fast your heart is beating. He can feel how much you want this. "Yes," you breathe. He smiles. It's not the smile you're used to. It's darker, sharper, the smile of someone who knows exactly what he wants and knows exactly how to get it. He turns you to face him, his hands cupping your face, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones. "Yes what?" "I need words cause once I start there's no going back." "Yes," you say. "I'm sure. I want this. I want both of you so much." His mouth curves into something dangerous. "My good girl."
He kisses you. Hard. Deep. His tongue slides against yours, and his hands are everywhere from your hair, your waist, your hips. He kisses like he's claiming you, and you let him. You arch into him, your hands fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. When he pulls back, your head spins. Your chest heaves. You're already breathless. He looks at Jake over your shoulder. "You want to touch her?" Jake's voice is rough. "Yes." "Then touch her." Jake's hands find your waist. His touch is softer than Heeseung's, gentler, but no less hungry. He pulls you back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you, his mouth finding your neck. Heeseung watches. His eyes move over you, over Jake's hands on your body, over the way you lean into his touch. Over the way Jake leans into your touch. "Take off her shirt," Heeseung says. Without hesitation Jake's hands slide under your shirt, pushing it up. He pulls it over your head, and the cool air hits your skin. His hands are warm on your stomach, your ribs, the sides of your breasts. "Her bra," Heeseung says. Jake unhooks it. His fingers are trembling. The bra falls to the floor, and Jake makes a sound behind you something low, something desperate as his hands cup your breasts.
Heeseung steps closer. His hand slides into your hair tugging it to tilt your head back. "You like this? You like the attention? Having both of us touch you?" "Yes, fuck I love It so much." His thumb traces your lower lip. "You're going to be so good for us tonight. Aren't you?" You nod. Your tongue flicks against his thumb. His eyes darken. "Get on the bed," he says. You lie back on the mattress. The sheets are cool against your skin, and the two of them stand at the foot of the bed, watching you. Jake's hands are shaking. Heeseung's are steady. "Jake," Heeseung says. "Her breasts. Seems to need some attention." Jake moves onto the bed, settling beside you. His mouth finds your nipple, and you gasp. His tongue is soft, gentle, the way he always is. He sucks lightly, his hand cupping your other breast, his thumb circling your nipple. Alternating between the two.
Heeseung kneels between your legs. His hands push your thighs apart, and you spread for him without thinking, your body already responding to his touch. "Look at you," he says. "Already so wet like some stupid slut. You've been wanting this, haven't you?" "Mhmm yes, want it so much." His fingers slowly trace your slit, gathering wetness, circling your clit. Your hips buck trying to get more. He presses you back down with his other hand. And lands a smack to your clit making you squirm under him. "Behave, not yet." "We're going to take our time with you pretty girl."
He slides one finger inside you. Then two. Your back arches, and Jake's mouth is on your breast, sucking harder now, his tongue flicking against your nipple. Heeseung's fingers curl inside you, finding the spot that makes your vision blur. "That's it," Heeseung murmurs. "You like that? You like when he plays with your nipples while I finger you?" You can't answer. Your hands grip the sheets. The pressure is building, coiling tight in your belly, and you're so close, so close- He pulls his fingers out. You cry out. The sound is desperate, broken, and Heeseung looks at you with satisfaction in his eyes. "Did you think I was going to let you cum that easily?" "Please," you gasp. "Please, I need- I want-" "Already so fucked out cant even form words huh? Tell me what do you need?" "I need to cum. Please, Heeseung. I'll be good. I'll be so good for you guys. Just let me cum."
He looks at Jake. "Eat her out. Make her taste herself on my fingers." Jake moves down the bed. His hands push your thighs apart, taking a moment to take in how wet you are, before you know it his mouth finds you. His tongue is soft at first, tentative, then firmer, faster, lapping at you like he's been starving. His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you open, and the sound he makes loud yet low, desperate and hungry sends heat flooding through your body. Heeseung is watching. His hand is in his pants, stroking himself, his eyes fixed on your face. Then down to Jake eating you out like a starved man. "She tastes good, doesn't she?" he asks. Jake moans against you sending waves throughout your body. His tongue circles your clit, faster now, and your hips buck against his face. He holds you down, his mouth relentless, his jaw working, and you can feel yourself getting close again, can feel the pressure building.
Heeseung pulls his hand out of his pants. His cock is hard, red and wet with pre cum at the tip begging for attention, he moves up the bed straddling your chest. "You're going to open your mouth for me right princess?" He says. You open your mouth. He slides his cock across your face and lips spreading his pre cum all over than finally into your mouth. The taste of him is warm and salty you moan around him, your tongue working, your lips stretching. His hand tangles in your hair, guiding you, setting the pace. "That's it. Take all of it like a fucking champ." Jake's mouth is still on you, his tongue still working, all while rutting onto the edge of the mattress pants already damp leaving a wet mark. Heeseung's hips are moving fast, pushing deeper into your throat, and you're drowning in sensation of the taste of him, the feel of Jake's tongue, the pressure building stronger in your stomach.
Heeseung pulls out. A strand of saliva connects you to him, and he smears it across your lips. And takes a look at Jakes wrecked state. "Pathetic fucking loser." He says loud enough for Jake to hear and make him let out a high pitched moan. Heeseung diverts his attention back to your flushed face lips parted trying to catch your breath. "I want to cum on your face," he says. "You want that?" "Yes Hee want it so much, please." He strokes himself over you, fast, hard, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on your face. When he cums, it's across your cheeks, your lips, your chin. Hot and thick. You feel it dripping down your skin, and you lick your lips, taste him, swallow. Then open your mouth to show. Heeseung watches you. "My good fucking girl."
He looks at Jake. "She came on your face?" Jake lifts his head. His mouth is slick, his chin wet, his chest heaving. "Not yet." Heeseung's hand finds your clit. You jerk. Your body is oversensitive, trembling, and the pressure is unbearable. "Then make her fucking cum loser." He pushes Jakes head back down holding it down until he's done. His tongue is faster now, harder, and Heeseung's fingers are inside you, curling, pressing, driving you toward the edge. Your hands find their hair Jake's soft strands, Heeseung's thicker ones and you hold on as the pressure builds, as your body tightens, as the world narrows to the feel of them. You cum on Jake's face. Your body arches, your mouth opens, and Heeseung's name tears from your throat. Jake drinks you down, his tongue lapping at you, and Heeseung's fingers work you through it, drawing it out until you're shaking, until you're begging him to stop.
He pulls his fingers out. Licks them clean. Dives his finger back in coating his fingers with your slick. "Open," he says leaving no more for argument. The second you open your mouth he hovers right above it and spits into it than finger fucks your mouth. Heeseung's fingers curl deeper into your mouth, pressing against your tongue, and the sound you make is wet, desperate, muffled around his knuckles. Saliva drips down your chin, pooling in the hollow of your throat, and your eyes water from the stretch, from the way he's holding you open, from the way he's watching you with something dark and satisfied in his expression. "My good little whore," he says. Making u moan against him. "Jake, fuck her dumb." He states
Jake is frozen, absolutely dazed, face flushed in awe at the way you're literally glowing. And watching Heeseung's fingers slide in and out of your mouth. Watching the mess he's making of you. Watching the way you take it. "What? Want me to finger fuck you to or something?" He teases, making himself let out a low chuckle. And Jake a high pitched whimper. "No fucking way" Heeseung says making direct eye contact with Jake. "You like watching?" His voice is low, rough, pitched for Jake's ears. His fingers never stop moving in your mouth. "You want to know what it feels like?" All of a sudden Jake's throat feels dry. His voice comes out strangled. "I-"
Heeseung's fingers slide out of your mouth with a wet pop. He reaches down, his fingers dragging through the mess on your chin, your throat, collecting the wetness on his knuckles from spit, tears and his cum all over you. Then he turns to Jake. He holds his hand out. His fingers are soaked, glistening in the low light. Jake stares at them. His breath catches. His lips part. Heeseung's thumb presses against Jake's lower lip, pulling it down. "Open up." Jake's eyes flutter. His mouth falls open. Heeseung pushes his fingers inside, slowly, watching Jake's face the whole time. Jake's eyes widen. His hands grip the sheets tighter. He makes a sound something between a gasp and a moan and Heeseung's expression shifts, something hungry surfacing. "There," Heeseung breathes. "That's it. Take it little boy." His fingers slide deeper. Jake's eyes close. His mouth works around them, tongue sliding against Heeseung's knuckles, and the sound he makes is low, desperate, muffled.
You watch them, your chest rising and falling, your body still trembling from Heeseung's hands on you. Jake's face is flushed, his lips stretched around Heeseung's fingers, his whole body arched toward him. Making you feel dizzy. Heeseung pulls his fingers out slowly, dragging them across Jake's tongue before letting them slide free. Jake gasps out of breath, his eyes opening, dark and wide. Heeseung looks at his hand, slick with spit, and then he looks at you. His mouth curves. "Liked the show didn't you," he says, his voice low teasing.
Before Jake lets his thoughts consume him he moves over you. His body covers yours, his arms bracketing your head, his hips settling between your legs. His face is wet, his lips swollen, his eyes dark. "You okay?" he asks. His voice is soft, checking. You pull him down, kiss him. You can taste yourself on his lips, taste Heeseung on your own. "Fuck me Jake." He pushes inside you. You're so wet that he slides in easily, and you both moan at the feeling of it him filling you, you clenching around him. He moves slow at first, his hips rocking against yours, his mouth on your neck. "You're so tight," he groans. "So fucking tight."
Heeseung is beside you. His hands find your breasts, playing with your nipples, pinching, rolling, sending sparks of pleasure through your overstimulated body. His mouth finds your ear. "You like that? You like him inside you while I touch you?" "Mmm fuck yeahh." He pinches harder. Your hips buck. Jake groans. Heeseung's hand slides down your stomach, finds your clit. He presses, circles, works you while Jake fucks you, and it's too much, not enough, everything. "I'm close," Jake gasps. "I'm going to-" "Not yet." Heeseung's voice is sharp. "She cums first." Making Jake groan. He presses harder on your clit. His fingers circle faster. Jake's hips drive into you, faster now, losing control, and you can feel yourself climbing, feel the pressure building, feel the edge approaching. "Come on," Heeseung says. "Cum for him. Let him feel you."
You break. Your body clenches around Jake, your hands grip his shoulders, your voice breaks on his name. He follows a moment later, his face buried in your neck, his hips stuttering against yours, his body shuddering. He collapses beside you. His chest heaves. His skin is slick with sweat.
But Heeseung isn't done. He rolls you onto your stomach, pulls your hips up. You feel him behind you, his cock pressing against your entrance, already hard again. "She's done," Jake says. His voice is concerned. "She needs a break." Heeseung looks at you. "You're my good girl you take whatever I give you, right?" You nod your head. Your voice is hoarse. "I want- I need- you- more- give me please." He pushes inside you. You cry out. You're oversensitive, raw, and every nerve is on fire. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady, and he fucks you hard, fast, the way he fucks when he's lost control.
Your body arches. Your hands claw at anything you can get a hold of. He's thick, stretching you, filling you, and the pressure of him inside you makes your eyes roll back. He doesn't wait. He doesn't give you time to adjust. He moves hard, fast, his hips driving into you, his mouth on your neck, his hands gripping your thighs. The sound of it fills the room. Skin slapping against skin. The bed frame hitting the wall. Your moans, his grunts, the wet sounds of him moving inside you. He fucks you like he's been waiting for this, like he's been holding back for years, like every night he spent watching you with Jake is being driven out of him with every thrust. "You feel that?" he says. "You feel how good you are? How perfect you are for this?" Your hands fist the sheets. Your body is shaking, your mind blank, your mouth open. You can't form words. You can only feel.
He reaches around, finds your clit. You sob. It's too much. You can't take it. But he doesn't stop. His fingers work you, his hips drive into you, and the pleasure is so intense it hurts, burns, consumes you. "I can't," you gasp. "I can't, I can't-" "You can." His voice is hard. "You're going to cum for me. You're going to cum so hard you forget your own name." Jake moves closer. His hand finds yours, holds it. His other hand cups your face, turns you toward him. "I've got you," he says. "We've got you." Heeseung's fingers press harder. His hips drive deeper. "Cum on my cock. Show me who you belong to." Was your final straw leading the pressure inside you to break.
You scream and chant both of there names like a mantra. Your body convulses, your vision whites out, and you feel yourself gush around him, soaking the sheets and soaking him your body releasing everything. Heeseung groans, his hips slamming into you one last time, and you feel him cum inside filling u up, the heat of him, the way his body shakes. He pulls out. You collapse onto the bed. Your face is wet. You're not sure if it's tears or spit or cum. You can't move. You can't think. You can only lie there, trembling, while they clean you up. Jake's hands are gentle, wiping your face, your chest, your thighs. Heeseung brings a towel, warm water, cleans the mess between your legs. They turn you over, lift you, change the sheets while you lie there, too spent to help. When they're done, they pull you between them. Jake's arm wraps around your waist. Heeseung's chest is warm against your back. "Too much?" Jake asks. You shake your head. Your voice is barely a whisper. "Perfect." Heeseung presses a kiss to your shoulder. "You did so good baby." Your eyes close. Their hands are on you, gentle now, soothing. Jake's fingers trace patterns on your hip. Heeseung's breath evens out against your neck. The last thing you feel is their arms tightening around you, holding you together as you drift.
The next week is strange. You see them both around campus, but you don't seek them out. You don't text. You don't call, allowing yourself to form your thoughts. You let the days pass, let yourself exist in the space between what happened and what comes next.
Heeseung shows up at your apartment on a random Wednesday. "Can I come in?" he asks. You step aside. He sits on your couch. You sit across from him. The space between you feels like miles. "It started as a bet," he says. "Freshman year. We were drunk. Jay made a joke. It was supposed to be stupid. Something we'd forget about by the next day." You don't say anything. "But then I saw you at the library. You were sitting by the window, and you looked up when I walked in, and you-" He stops. Swallows. "You smiled at me. Like you knew me. Like you'd been waiting for me. And I forgot there was ever a bet."
You look at him. "You never told me." "I was scared." His voice cracks. "I was scared that if you knew how it started, you'd never believe how it ended. I was scared you'd look at me and only see the stupid kid who made a bet, not the person who fell in love with you." He moves to kneel in front of you, his hands finding yours. His fingers are cold, trembling. "I love you," he says. "I've loved you since the first time I saw you. And I've spent four years trying to be someone worth loving back. I know I've messed up. I know I've hurt you. But the bet was never real. Not after the first week. Not after I knew you."
"I love you too," you say. "But I don't know if that's enough." He closes his eyes. His hands tighten around yours. "I'm leaving, I got scouted to play in the major leagues" he says. "At the end of the summer. I'm moving across the country. And I'm not going to ask you to wait." He looks up at you. "I think- I think I need to start over. Somewhere new. Somewhere I'm not the person who made a bet. Somewhere I'm just me." Your throat tightens. "Heeseung-" "I'm not saying goodbye." His voice is rough. "I'm not saying this is the end. But I need to go. I need to figure out who I am when I'm not chasing you. When I'm not waiting. When I'm not hoping."
You don't know what to say. Your chest is too full, your throat too tight. He stands up. He pulls you with him. His hands cup your face, his thumbs brushing your cheeks. "If it's meant to be," he says, "I'll find my way back. And if it's not-" He stops. Swallows. "If it's not, I need you to know that you were the best thing that ever happened to me. And I'm sorry I was too scared to tell you sooner." He kisses you. Soft. Slow. The way he kissed you in the locker room. He pulls back. He looks at you one more time. And then he walks out the door.
You stand there for a long time after he leaves. Your face is wet. Your hands are shaking. You don't know how long you stand there, in the middle of your apartment, the door closed, the silence pressing in. Your phone buzzes. You don't look at it. It buzzes again. You pick it up. Jake: Can we talk? You stare at the message. Your fingers hover over the keyboard. Come over.
He's at your door in fifteen minutes. He doesn't sit. He stands in the middle of your living room, his hands at his sides, his face open in a way you've never seen. "You know about the bet," he says. You nod. "I should have told you. I should have told you a hundred times. But I was scared. I was scared you'd walk away. I was scared you'd look at me the way you're looking at me now." You don't say anything. You let him talk. "It started as a joke. A stupid, immature joke. And I spent four years trying to make up for it. Trying to be someone worth choosing." He looks at you. "I love you a lot. I've loved you since the first time I saw you. And I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But that bet was never real. Not after I knew you."
"I know," you say. He stares at you. "You know?" "I know it wasn't real. I know it stopped being a bet a long time ago." You step closer. "I'm still angry. I'm still hurt. But I know." His face crumples. His hands find yours, his fingers cold, trembling. "I thought I lost you." "You didn't lose me." "I thought you were going to choose him. Heeseung. I thought-" His voice breaks. You reach up, your hand cupping his face. "I need time. I need to figure out who I am when I'm not being chased. When I'm not being fought over." He nods. His eyes are wet. "I'll wait. I've been waiting for four years. I can wait a little longer." You pull him into your arms. He holds you like he's never letting go. "I love you," he says against your hair. "I've always loved you." You close your eyes. His arms are warm around you, his heart beating against your chest, his breath steady in your ear. "I love you too," you say.
He pulls back, looks at you. "So that means-" "It means I'm not going anywhere. It means I'm going to take some time to figure out what I want. And when I'm ready-" You stop. Look at him. "When I'm ready, I want it to be you." He kisses you. Soft. Gentle. The way he's always been. When he pulls back, he's smiling. It's the smile that's been yours since the beginning.
Graduation comes faster than you expect. The ceremony is long and hot, the speeches predictable, the crowd a sea of caps and gowns. Yunjin cries during the address. Sakura pretends she isn't crying too. Chae takes approximately seven thousand photos. Jake is in the row ahead of you. He turns around when your name is called, his smile wide, his eyes bright. You walk across the stage, diploma in hand, and when you sit back down, his hand finds yours.
After the ceremony, everyone gathers on the lawn outside the auditorium. The whole group is there, Yunjin with her arm looped through Jay's, Sakura and Chae are taking photos with Sunoo. Sunghoon is trying to get everyone organized for a group picture, which is proving impossible. Jungwon is laughing at something Ni-ki said. Heeseung is standing with his family nearby, his cap already off, his gown unzipped. You find him after a moment. He sees you coming and excuses himself from his parents. "Congratulations," you say. "You too." He shrugs. "I just threw a ball through a hoop. You, on the other hand, did something impressive." You laugh. "You're ridiculous." "You've mentioned that."
Jake appears beside you. His hand finds your waist. Heeseung looks at him, and for a moment, neither of them says anything. Then Heeseung smiles. "Take care of her." "I plan to." "She's stubborn. She doesn't eat when she's stressed. She pretends she's fine when she's not. You have to watch for that." Jake nods. "I know." Heeseung looks at you. "And you stop pretending you have it all figured out. No one does. That's the secret." You laugh, and it's real, and it hurts, and it's exactly what you needed. "I'm going to miss you," you say. "I'm going to miss you too." He pulls you into a hug, quick and tight.
When he pulls back, his eyes are wet. "Don't let him be boring. He has a tendency." Jake rolls his eyes. "I'm standing right here." "I know." Heeseung grins. "That's the point."
They look at each other. Four years of competition, of wanting, of waiting. And now, this. "When you're on TV," Jake says, "I'm going to tell everyone I knew you before you were famous." "I'm going to deny it." "I'm going to ask you for money." "I'm going to block your number." They laugh. You laugh too. And for a moment, it feels like everything is exactly the way it's supposed to be.
Sunghoon finally gets everyone organized for a group photo. The whole crew gathers on the steps of the auditorium. Yunjin and Jay, Sakura and Chae, Sunoo and Sunghoon, Jungwon and Ni-ki, you and Jake, and Heeseung, who's stayed even though he already took photos with his family. "Everyone squeeze in," Sunghoon calls, setting up his phone on a tripod. "Ni-ki, stop messing with Jungwon." "I'm just fixing his shirt god fricking forbid." "You're messing it up." The timer counts down. Three. Two. One. The photo captures everyone mid-laugh, mid-argument, mid-moment. It's messy and imperfect and exactly right.
After the photo, people start to drift. Sunghoon is already planning the after party. Yunjin is dragging Jay toward the parking lot. Sakura and Chae are arguing about where to go for food. Sunoo is trying to get everyone's drink orders. You're standing with Jake and Heeseung, the three of you off to the side, watching the chaos. "One more," someone says. You turn. It's Jungwon, holding up his phone. "One more photo. For old times." You laugh. You pull Jake closer. Heeseung steps in on your other side. Jungwon lifts his phone, and Ni-ki appears beside him, leaning into the frame. "Three, two-"
"Wait," Ni-ki says. He's not looking at the camera. He's looking across the lawn, at a girl standing near the fountain, holding what looked like her brother's cap while taking pictures for him. "Who's that?" Jungwon follows his gaze. His phone lowers. "I don't know. I've never seen her before." "Me neither." Ni-ki tilts his head. "She's cute." Jungwon looks at her. "She's really cute." They stand there for a moment, both of them watching her, both of them forgetting about the photo.
Jay appears beside them, Sunghoon trailing behind. "What are you two staring at?" Ni-ki nods toward the girl. "Her." Jay looks. He looks at Sunghoon. Sunghoon looks at Jay. A slow grin spreads across Jay's face. "Oh no," Sunghoon says. "What?" Jungwon looks between them. "What is it?" "Nothing." Jay's grin widens. "I've just seen this before." Sunghoon shakes his head, laughing. "Not again." "Not again what?" Ni-ki asks.
Jay puts an arm around each of them. "Let me tell you a story. About a bet. About two guys who thought they knew what they wanted. About four years of chasing and fighting and messing everything up." Jungwon and Ni-ki look at each other. They look at the girl by the fountain. "Here's the thing," Jay says. "That bet? Neither of them won. Not really. But they both ended up exactly where they were supposed to be." Ni-ki looks at the girl again. She's laughing at something, her head thrown back, now posing for pictures. "So what you're saying is-" "I'm saying be careful." Jay's voice is lighter now, teasing. "That girl? She might be trouble." Jungwon grins. "We like trouble." Sunghoon groans. "Oh my gosh here we go again."
They're still talking when you turn away, your hand in Jake's, Heeseung walking beside you. The afternoon sun is warm, the campus spread out before you, the future waiting somewhere beyond the gates. "You think they'll figure it out?" Heeseung asks, nodding toward the younger boys. You look back. Jungwon and Ni-ki are already walking toward the fountain, already finding their way toward something new. "I think," you say, "they're about to find out." Jake squeezes your hand. "Let's go home." You walk together, the three of you, out of the campus, out of the years you've spent here, into whatever comes next.
a/n: omgg if u made it this far tysm for reading I hope u enjoyed the fic and will enjoy my future works. no frl tho thank u if u made it this far ily
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