TWO'S A COMPANY

I DON’T HATE YOU THOUGH? — PARK SUNGHOON

[📔] — academic rivals to lovers text with sunghoon. mentions of fainting, not eating, overworking, fevers.

ENHYPEN PERM TAGLIST — @miumura @macapunoz

© JUYEOZ

☆ he got that in him

shy bf jungwon ! (18+) 🪽 🦢 ☀️ 🫧

a/n: i feel like this isn't rlly jungwon :( !! but it's all just fiction 🙄 and i just love this man sooo much. please do let me know if there are typos! i do go over before i publish but i sometimes miss it 😢 reqs are open !! don't be afraid to ask :)

✧ pairing: idol!jungwon x influencer!reader + warnings: smut with plot YAYYY. dom!jungwon x subfem!reader, unprotected sex (don't do that), jungwon hits it from the back lol, riding, ass slapping, degradation (use of the words whore, slut, etc), pet names (baby, won, wonnie, etc), size kink, orgasm denial (so mean jungwon), rough sex, jungwon is such a shy guy wrapped around your finger in public, but is such a freak in bed it’s insane.

word count: [2.8K]

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you quite literally needed jungwon every second in your life. your attachment to him was so strong it was sometimes concerning.

"are you sure you don't want to just go with me in my car?" your boyfriend asks, walking out of your bathroom with a towel wrapped around his lower waist.

you didn't respond but instead stared at the muscles on his stomach, watching how his lower abdomen sucked in a little bit and you were so entranced by the sight infront of you, mouth watering slightly. your whole world stopped for a bit to just simply admire yang jungwon.

you're finishing up some assignments for class. you decided that you're joining jungwon at his group's house gathering an hour or two later than the time he's arriving. you didn't have to worry about missing out too much, the gathering will be going on for a while.

it was jake who decided to throw a mini gathering, including all of the members, and a few other people including you. the gathering including your favorite, an outdoor barbecue and bonfire.

"yeah won." you frown, "have to finish this thesis or else professor jeong will not give me the end of it." scoffing at the mention of your professor. you turn around and your eyes nearly pop out of your socket at what you see. "actually.. are you sure we even have to go..?" you tease, now standing infront of your boyfriend and teasing the sides of the towel that could be down with one small tug, wanting to pull it off your boyfriend.

"quit it perv!" jungwon jokes, "you'll get what's under this towel later tonight." he winks, wrapping a hand around your waist to give you a kiss, you whined when he pulled his soft lips away. "now be a good girl and finish your assignments, i'll see you there in couple hours." patting the back off your ass playfully. going to the closet and picking out an outfit.

you curiously watch your boyfriend style his hair, focus completely shifted from the work you had left with school. "don't you have some assignments to finish?" eyebrows raising at your eyes not blinking once.

"yeahyeah your right." you respond a little flustered, a slight tint flowing on your cheeks. jungwon walks over to your desk, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "see you later baby." then he walked out of your room.

you sigh, already missing the presence of your jungwon. it takes another hour and a half before you're finished with all of your assignments for the week. closing your laptop aggressively, victory filling in your head as you don't have to worry about completing your work this weekend.

you're quick to change out of jungwon's t-shirt, putting on a pair of dark green cargo shorts that hugged your thighs perfectly, and a simple white baby tee with the brands cute logo on the back. grabbing your keys on the counter by the door, dashing out the door, to your car. you had a feeling that you wouldn't be returning home tonight, instead staying over at enhypen's house.

"what's that look on your face jungwon? missing y/n huh?" jake teases him. "she's got him wrapped around her finger! see how she always initiates everything!" jay adds on. "she probably controls ALL the shit that goes on in bed!" someone else says.

"i am NOT talking to you guys about my bed activities." the members laughing at jungwon's quick defense. knowing they're right, atleast they think so.

arriving at the house, you might've underestimated the weather, feeling a little bit cold as you welcomed yourself in, kicking your shoes off at the entrance, carrying them with you to the backyard to put them on again.

"look who's here! we were just talking about you!" ni-ki greets you. "nothing bad i hope." you respond, "don't worry it wasn't anything bad! just talked about how you've practically got jungwon wrapped around your finger." sunoo says, maybe he ran his mouth a little too much, sunghoon glaring at him as sunoo placed both of his hands over his mouth.

you laugh in response to that, "jungwon's just such a loving boyfriend. i really hit the jackpot with this one." beaming at jungwon, you were being held with one arm around your waist. jay started the barbecue and the rest of the members went to help with setting up everything.

jungwon noticed your body slightly shivering. "are you cold sweetheart?" "mm, just a little bit" murmuring that as a reply. your boyfriend taking off his sweatshirt that he was wearing and putting it on you. "i'm not that cold anyways. gotta go help set up stuff, karina's by the pool chairs." he gives you a kiss on your cheek.

"nice arms" you tease, moving one of your hands to squeeze his now bare biceps. you were definitely going to thank heesung later for urging jungwon to frequent the gym more. that white t-shirt was hugging all the right parts of jungwon's upper half.

"not right now baby." he speaks in a low voice to you, "can't help it you look so hot right now." whining and looking up to your boyfriend. jungwon leans down to give you a quick kiss on your lips. karina's waving over to you as you walk towards the poolside, giving a quick turn to see your boyfriend immediately jump in to help with setting up the table.

"girl you have been oogling and staring at your boyfriend for the past five minutes now, without saying anything!" karina says, waving her hand in front of you, making you finally blink again for the first time in a few minutes. "seriously thank your brother for me. he's been taking jungwon to the gym more often." your best friend just scoffs at you in amusement.

"dude, y/n has not looked one second away from you." sunghoon points out, nudging jungwon with his elbow. the members snicker at jungwon's flustered reaction, going back to setting up the table.

"jungwon!" you call out, jungwon jumps at the sudden sound of your voice. "yeah babe what's up!" he exclaims, nearly stuttering at every word. "were you guys bullying my boyfriend." you frown at his fellow members, "because he only gets like this when someone's been teasing him."

"no definitely did NOT!"

"sure, sure." you roll your eyes jokingly, turning to jungwon with a mischievous glint. now he knew that you were up to something.

"won, i think i left something in your room when i was staying with you a few days ago, can i go look for it?" "yeah i'll help you find it pretty." the other members not noticing you and jungwon disappearing, too focused on the food grilling on the barbecue and setting up the table.

walking into the house, your eyes are set on the entrance of jungwon's room, looking behind you and throwing a smirk at jungwon, quickening your pace to his room door. but you felt yourself being tugged into the bathroom.

"do you enjoy teasing me infront of everybody?" he growls, using a hand to hold both your cheeks and turn you to face the bathroom mirror infront of the counter, his other hand gripping your asscheek. you don't respond, eager for jungwon to bend you over the counter and just fuck the shit out of you.

"i asked you a question baby." jungwon says, staring directly at you on the mirror. hand gripping your asscheek a little tighter. you whine and push your hips back, feeling his bulge rub against your clothed ass, shorts rising up and you continued your movements. "need you so bad wonnie please." your boyfriend laughs at your neediness. using both of his hands to grip your waist and hold you in place.

"i don't know sweetheart. you've been teasing the fuck out of me since you've got here." jungwon murmurs, unbuttoning your cargos shorts, sliding your panties down to your knees and moving two of his digits to collect your wetness. "please jungwon! i can't help it that you feel so good everytime!" you babble attempting to wiggle your hips side to side. jungwon finds you so desperate for him to be so amusing.

"you enjoy being a needy whore for me don't you? the way you're dripping around my fingers show me that you do." humiliation tints on your face as you look at yourself on the mirror. it's thrown away when you feel two of jungwon's digits enter you all of a sudden.

you let out a gasp at the intrusion, the stretch of his two fingers hitting you so deep as jungwon already sets a relentless pace, his other hand moving up to push your hair to the side, trailing soft kisses on your exposed collarbone.

"oh shit wonnie, feels so good!" you moan, shutting your eyes as you revel in the feeling of jungwon's fingers working wonders deep inside your cunt. your small noises spurring jungwon to add a third finger.

the feeling of him scissoring and hitting your g spot repeatedly made the pleasure feel so overwhelming. "you gonna close baby?" jungwon noticing the way your pussy tighten and swirled around his fingers. in response, you nodded.

feeling jungwon's pace fasten, your pussy clenches around his digits so tightly, you felt that knot in your stomach about to be undone, but wait… that feeling fades when jungwon pulls his fingers out abruptly, laughing at your pathetic attempt to grind back against him.

"two more hours until i fuck the absolute shit out of you." your eyes widen as you whine at your boyfriend's words. jungwon helped you pull your panties back up, along with your cargo shorts. he gives your ass a playful smack, making you turn around and throw a pout at him.

"you're so mean." your lips curl into a frown looking at the way jungwon has no remorse.

. ✦ · .

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀˚ ⊹ ˚

⠀⠀ ⊹

the sounds of your and jungwon's lips smacking against each other filled the room. everyone else being long asleep, as it was pretty late in the night and the gathering ending a couple hours ago.

all that was left on your was your bra, thin material barely holding together your tits that jungwon adored and worshipped so much. the straps slid off your shoulders, being pulled down and showing your lucious tits. with your bra not even being properly off, jungwon's hands grabbing at your boobs, nipples in between his fingers as he twisted and fondled at them.

you let out low sighs of pleasure, feeling like jelly from your standing position, you would've fell down if it wasn't for jungwon's tight hold. "fuck baby, i would have you blow me right now but i need to fuck that sweet pussy of yours." your boyfriend manhandles you onto your front, onto the bed.

"arch that back for me pretty." jungwon says cursing at the slight of your slick dripping out of your spent pussy, down your legs. if only his fellow members knew he had you wrapped around his finger like this. the way you begged for him to fill you up with his thick cock that sent you into an overdrive of pleasure, fat tears streaming down your face as you go thru an intense orgasm.

and you didn't care to conceal or cover your sounds. jungwon completely forgot about that.. only focused on ruining you tonight.

but before all of this, he gave you a prior orgasm by eating you out. the sight of your needy hole throbbing, practically looking like it was ready to pull his cock in made jungwon let out a long groan.

loosing all of his patience to tease you any further. jungwon's hands are on the side of your hips guiding you to the position. you turn your head, tears slightly fogging your vision, seeing how jungwon slid off his boxers and gave his cock a few harsh strokes, you admired the veins that were decorated along his length, his pre-cum oozing out of his mushroom tip. you were entranced by the sight, mouth watering as you watch jungwon align his tip with your entrance.

circling his tip around your wetness, collecting it on his tip to use as lube. he pushes into you, one hand on your hip, and the other pushing your face into the pillow to try to suppress your loud shrieks and moans of his name. it didn't really help much because the walls were quite thin.. and the sounds of his hips smacking against the the soft plush skin of your ass echoing around the room.

you really tried to contain your sounds, hips pushing back to feel more of jungwon's cock stuffed deep into you. a hard smack lands on your left ass cheek. "naughty girl, is this not enough for you?" you mouth shapes into an 'o' as you felt jungwon increase his pace, relentless strokes hitting all parts of your body so so good.

"oh shit." you groan, eyes rolling head spinning at the sensation. it was nearly impossible with the speed jungwon's cock kept sliding in and out of you. "such a fucking pretty cockslut for me." jungwon groans, the feeling of your walls tightening around him from his words. he moves his hands to spread your asscheeks to see the way your tight walls you envelop his dick over and over again.

you let out a particularly loud moan when you feel your orgasm approaching, jungwon stopping his movements briefly to pull your head up, "shush baby, you don't want everyone hearing you like the cockwhore you are do you?"

"ngh no! too good wonnie i'm close pleaseplease?" you beg, attempting to move your hips back, jungwon's grip was too tight, just simply laughing at your state. he goes back to his moment, one hand pushing your face into the pillows, but the sounds were still quite loud, your muffled moans only spurred jungwon on more.

you lift your face up from the pillow telling jungwon that you're close, he knows by the way your body is tensing up, cunt clenching around his length so impossibly tight.

his fingers moving to your clit and rubbing your pearl as your release approaches, the coil in your stomach finally snapping around jungwon as you drop your body back onto the mattress, arms giving out and just leaving your whole upper body to rest on the sheets.

a laugh falls out of jungwon's mouth as he look at the state of you, slowing down his pace as he finishes inside of you, pulling out and seeing his cum dripping down the insides of your thighs. patting your ass softly, jungwon leans over you mumbling against your ear, "just one more pretty. i want you to ride me."

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀˚ ⊹ ˚

"oh shit" you moan as jungwon finally bottoms out in you, your walls flutter around his walls causing him to throw his head back and groan at the feeling of you. hands placed on both of your hips in a tight grip, moving you up and down on his cock. another moan escapes your lips when one of his hands move to slap one of your ass cheeks, his hand easing the sight pain afterwards. "ride me like you mean it pretty."

jungwon's hands leaving your hips and rests behind his head, enjoying the sight in front of you, your eyebrows furrowed as you try to find a good pace, soft moans of his name repeating like a prayer over and over, it was all just too good.

finally finding a good pace, you feel tired as your pace slows, jungwon groans at the feeling of his cock practically splitting you open. finally giving you some help and moving his hands back to your hips as he moves you up and down.

"mmph jungwon! m' close!" your hands find placement on both sides of his shoulders, velvety walls tightening around his length again.

"come for me y/n." was all it took for you as your eyes rolled back, nails digging into his shoulder as jungwon finishes at the same time as you, stilling his movements and painting your walls white.

⠀⠀ ⊹

your body is sprawled on the sheets, eyes half lidded as your boyfriend brings you up to help you redress yourself in a new set of clothes.

"you're insane." you sigh, knowing the next morning that your legs will be limp. jungwon laughs at you, giving you a small kiss and lays himself beside you.

as the morning comes, jungwon greets the other members a good morning, but an awkward silence is met. jungwon raises and eyebrow at the silence and the way his fellow members looked at him.

"holy shit jungwon! we didn't know you got that in you!"

yang jungwon — love me.

P. fem!reader x bf!jungwon (17+) | W. unprotected sex, jungwon is needy & whiny, kissing, cursing, biting, creampie, mentions of a handjob, breast play, marking, dacryphilia, biting, cockwarming, getting fucked into subspace, pussy slapping, petnames, desperate jungwon & other things i forgot | WC. 3.3k | A,N. wrote this while listening to lights on by normani so i felt n a s t y, anyways this was a request! thank u for requesting <3

in which.. jungwon gets a boner mid cuddling session.

hot.

that's the only word running in jungwon's head. well along with needy.

hot. he felt so fucking hot. and so ridiculously needy.

he felt every nerve ending in his body blazing with heat that's almost borderline painful. fingers twitching to grasp or hold onto something that will ground him before he lost his sanity. his breathing gradually becoming more irregular. the seconds he was counting in his head to get his breathing under control slowly became unusually prolonged before being forgotten completely.

all the blood that should've been pumping in his head to keep his logical side working rushed down his entire body to accumulate in his pulsing cock. he was so fucking hard right now.

and it made him feel so guilty. there was absolutely no reason for him to feel like a dog in heat when literally nothing has happened. the urge to just fuck something almost making him spiral when you're just laying besides him, curled on yourself with your back against jungwon, you're just there.

sure it could've been the way he's been pressing his hips against the curve of your ass, or it could've been the way you were too sleepy and tired to push his cold, veiny hand away when it sneaked under your sweater to cup your breast— fuck. he basically brought this onto himself.

but how could he not practically glue himself against you? you felt so warm. so nice. so cuddly. he loved you so much. needed you so close to him at all times possible. if he could he would genuinely bury himself inside of you. the attempts of him pushing himself down your sweater and poking his head out of your neckline just to kiss you for hours to remain close were nothing.

his arms wrapped around your waist to hold you as close as possible weren't doing it for him. nor was the way his nose was nuzzled into the back of your neck— nothing at the moment could satisfy him.

and he wanted more. needed more. craved so so much more so fucking badly. he felt like if he wasn't inside of you in the next five seconds he might as well explode.

but at the same time how could he? not when you complained about how tiring your day was. not when you already felt fatigued enough to basically melt in his arms when he suggested a cuddling session, fuck and he was the one to suggest it, what was he thinking?

none of that mattered anymore. not when you were on the brink of drifting onto a deep sleep. teetering on the edge of remaining conscious completely. soft, almost unnoticeable whimpers leaving your mouth when you felt so comfortable. so satisfied and comforted in the arms of your lover, clad in his hoodie after a stressful day.

completely unaware of the dilemma jungwon was going through right behind you, unaware of the fact that he was a mere few seconds away from ripping his hair out of his scalp.

well that was until you heard him whimper.

fuck if only he remained stoic. maybe he wouldn't have nudged his raging boner against your ass. the simple friction making the noise leave his throat before he could even process it or try to swallow it down. and you for sure heard him.

he could just play it off, breathing in deeply and ignoring the way his arms unconsciously tightened around you, he tried to speak— “won, are you okay?” shit.

“yeah! i'm fine just— a cramp. yeah i just got a cramp in my leg.” chuckling next to your ear he 'played it off’, trying to not catch your attention further with the way he moved his hips further away from yours. pushing his lower half away from your body in hopes of saving himself from the embarrassment and humiliation of getting hard from cuddling.

“are you sure, baby?” you questioned, clearly not buying his lame excuse. i mean come on, you knew him better than anyone there was no way a simple cramp in the leg would make yang jungwon, your unreasonably strong boyfriend whimper. not when he's suffered through an entire sore body after a long fucking session with you that lasted an entire night (and morning) and didn't even complain one bit.

a cramp in the leg? had him whimpering like a whiny boy behind you?

“yeah, doll. don't worry about it— fuck!” him blabbering on to defend himself somehow backfired instantly as you suddenly pushed your ass against him, his clothed cock coming in contact with the curve of your ass once again making him almost see stars. he cursed under his breath even more when you wiggled your hips against his. making his hardened length twitch uncontrollably in his boxers.

“you're a terrible liar.” you reached behind you, cold fingers sneaking under his shirt this time, tracing the back of your fingers against his chiseled abs. the action making him gasp in sensitivity. closing his eyes, jungwon's arms went limp around you. after neglecting his own needs for hours now he felt like his body was betraying him from the smallest sensual touch from you.

your hand then moved downwards, toying with the hem of his sweatpants, then they went lower. to palm his dick through the two thick articles of clothing. the sensation making your boyfriend behind you gulp. his eyes closing unknowingly as his hips jerked forward into your touch. “touch me, doll. please.” he breathed shakily into your ear before biting the shell of it needily.

you then pushed your hand below his sweatpants, hand squeezing around his throbbing cock to relief him quickly, you could feel the dampening spot of his precum right under your palm while jungwon nuzzled his face closer into the back of your neck. eyes closed and breathing heavy as he felt his body becoming lit ablaze with heat.

“right here, princess.” he moved his shaking hand towards your own, bringing yours inside of his boxers to finally feel your cold fingers around his raging dick. pulsing warm precum that webbed between your fingers while you squeezed and stroked him. “like this baby?” turning your head towards him to whisper the words which had him groaning your name against your skin.

it was so fun to see him so needy like this. so desperate and so turned on. you could tell there was not a singular coherent thought in his mind other than his hard cock and how wet your pretty pussy must be by now. the urge to fuck you against the mattress of your bed building up inside him further. he needed you so bad.

and though you were teasing him by brushing your fingers against his sensitive tip harshly, or with the way your hands suddenly tightened around his length before loosening, you were no different from him. but you pushed the feeling of the pooling wetness in your sticky panties to the back of your head. ignoring your need for the time being just to rile up your cute boyfriend further.

jungwon who usually was in control, so collected and loving in heated moments was whimpering behind you as you palmed his weeping cock. you weren't going to let go of this opportunity so quickly.

“feels good, baby?” you whispered, pressing your ass further against the base of his cock while your hand stroked his tip. the sensation of your movements had jungwon's eyes rolling to the back of his head. nodding along dumbly to your words as his hips jerked more into your hand.

he felt the way his climax was building up in his abdomen, the feeling making his eyebrows furrow in complete pleasure before he tried to desperately push your hand away with his own weak one. not wanting to cum if it wasn't deep inside of you.

“fuck— doll, i'm close. so close. i need to be inside of you right now.” he breathed heavily, his rough voice in making the barrier of your thoughts and need disappear almost instantly. the heat in your core and throbbing of your clit suddenly seemed so overwhelming. you wanted and needed him just as badly as he did you.

with a simple and quick nod from you, jungwon's hands quickly removed both of your clothes, pushing his sweatpants along with his boxers down his legs before discarding them carelessly onto the floor then deciding to move towards your own sleeping shorts, hooking his finger under the hem after lifting himself up to litter kisses down your neck.

once he dragged your shorts and panties down, his arms moved towards your hoodie (that was his), thankful that he decided to stay shirtless today. lifting his hoodie from your body to continue his descent of kisses down your shoulders and stomach.

on usual days, jungwon would take his time to scissor you open with his fingers deep inside of your cunt and his lips wrapped around your clit for hours. but today—he couldn't do that. not when he felt his cock twitching against his abs and the leak of precum reaching his thighs.

he needed to be buried so deep inside of you this instant.

quickly laying down behind you, his arm sneaked under you to toy with your hardened nipple while the other gently lifted your leg open, pushing his hips against yours to finally allow his rock hard cock to push against your wet folds. the feeling of his tip poking against your sopping entrance had the two of your groaning in complete euphoria.

“yeah, baby? feels good?” and there he was. your teasing boyfriend who would go to extreme, unfathomable lengths just to see you begging for his touch, in tears because of his pleasure and your mind reeling because of his actions.

and who were you to deny him of any of this? not when he has you wrapped around his finger, not when he has your body twitching in sensitivity and need right under him.

“so good. so so good. please, baby. i need you so bad.” you begged him just how he likes it. voice desperate and shaky the way you knew had him losing his mind. and he fell right under your spell when he kept thrusting his hips to allow his cock to brush against your wetness.

letting the squelching sounds of your arousals combine with your needy moans. whimpers and whispers of his name fell past your lips, your hand wrapping around his own that cupped your breast, his index finger brushing against your nipple every now and then just to make you twitch in his embrace.

you were growing so desperate under his continuous teasing. his torture that made you crave him more, and right when he began to bite along your shoulder harshly you broke. tears aligning your waterline while shaky begs and mewls escaped your throat.

not able to take it anymore. you needed him so bad. your hunger for him to be so near, so close and so deep in you in every way possible increased by the second. yearning for him to be as snug and connected to you as humanly possible.

and jungwon's resolve finally dissipated, he kissed your jaw one long, tender kiss before he angled his hips against yours, letting your walls welcome him as he pushed his cock slowly inside of you.

and gosh he was so big. no matter how many times he had fucked you, his dick always had you in awe of just how perfectly thick and long it was. his raw length stretching you out so nicely. the burn between your walls felt so delicious to you as you mewled his name loudly.

his breathes altered between needy gasps and shaky groans of your name. your tightness always making him feel on edge, if he could fill you up right now he totally would. but he couldn't ruin your experience like this. not when he was so used to making you cum atleast once before even thinking of emptying his load inside of you.

jungwon knew that you were unbelievably close already. with the way your walls were practically sucking him in so tightly. the way your chest heaved in breaths heavily, his finger tips brushing against your chest and ribs whenever you inhaled in too deeply just to control yourself. yet none of it was working. not when your boyfriend began to thrust himself in so slowly and deeply. allowing you to feel every single vein aligning his cock.

being the tease he is, he decided to push you even further towards the edge. his hand that fondled with your tit now moved down, brushing against your stomach and hip sensually before it settled between your legs, jungwon then suddenly picked up the pace. pressing his palm against your lower stomach to feel the bulge of his cock so deep inside of you.

the feeling of him so close, so deeply connected to you had both of your minds reeling. slowly losing touch with reality as the only thing your brain processed was how close jungwon was to you. both emotionally and physically. he nudged your head with his own, making you turn your face towards him and letting him press his lips against yours.

the two of you now breathing each other's air. so intimately close. drowning in the other's presence and pleasure. sinking further into the euphoria that only the two of you could provide one another. “right there— oh my god.” you whispered against his lips when his middle and ring finger lowered to rub against your pulsing clit.

“fuck— jungwon..” you whimpered his name so sweetly, grinding your hips against his when he began to roll his length inside of you so deliciously, barely pulling two inches out before pressing himself deep into your welcoming cunt again. allowing the head of his cock to kiss your cervix with every thrust. "so good, doll. doing so good for me." his lips brushed against yours with every word.

skin on skin, sweat rolling down between both of your bodies as you connected and pleasured each other so sensually. your bodies becoming one, moving in sync with the purpose of chasing your high desperately. jungwon's tongue brushed against your cheek, licking up the tears you didn't even notice rolled down your eyes as your head was getting foggy with the mind numbing sensation of the tightening coil in your abdomen.

right on the brink of your orgasm with the way jungwon began to slowly pick up the pace, his fingers restless as they abused your clit. pushing you further and further on edge just so you can fall and he can capture you.

“i'm s-so close.” you sobbed against his mouth, eyes closing as the ecstasy just kept on building up and up and up. jungwon nodded to encourage you to cum, to finally unravel in his arms so he can please you more.

“yeah, baby? gonna cum for me?” breathing out heavily, his lips littering wet kisses around your jaw, he mindlessly kissed and sucked along your skin. leaving marks he couldn't even put a name on as he slowly ascended into complete intoxication on you.

minds disoriented, bodies on fire as your hearts beat in sync to chase relief. “gonna cream around my cock like a good girl, doll?”he smiled against your skin, moving his lips towards yours to quieten your sobs as you began to teeter on the edge, completely helpless as jungwon's fingers remained circling your clit, hips still pistoning against yours as the soaking wet sounds of your arousal echoed in the room.

a mix of your wetness combined with his settled in your inner thighs, making the noises sound all the more nasty as his balls smacked loudly against your entrance with every thrust. the pressure building up in your abdomen increasing intensely. in a pace you couldn't even process it but jungwon noticed of course, with the incessant tightening of your walls he quickly kissed you. shushing your sobs as he pressed himself so deep into you.

“go ahead, angel. make a mess for me.” those were the last words you heard before your ears began to ring. your body jerking and shaking between jungwon's arms as he fucked you through your orgasm, his hand that was rubbing against your clit switched to landing slaps against your wet pussy. the sensations of his tip pressed against cervix, the slaps sending jolts of electricity throughout your body while he continued to bite on your lower lip were so fucking overwhelming.

he was everywhere. you felt him everywhere, taking over your body, your soul, your mind and senses all at the same time. driving you into absolute insanity as he tightened his hold on you when you tried to push him away, slowly beginning to feel the dizzying pleasure of being intoxicated. completely high on elation and pleasure.

“j-jungwon— p-please stop-”you stuttered against him, eyes rolling into the back of your head when jungwon only kept increasing his pace, seemingly chasing his own high now. desperation evident in all of his movements as he started to act and move on pure instinct. dazed and completely out of it as he wanted nothing more than the tight coil in his abdomen to snap. his climax to finally wash over him and for him to fill you up with his seed entirely.

“i can't— fuck. i need to fill you up so badly, doll. i need you.” he whimpered against your neck, thrusts turning sloppy and uncoordinated as his cock twitched uncontrollably in your wet walls that milked and sucked him for all his worth. your fingers tightened around the sheets as you felt intense waves of pleasure cascade down your body, unable to differentiate in whether you're cumming again or you're being overstimulated. everything felt so good. everything felt too good. too overwhelming.

broken sobs and choked whispers of his name were all what your throat could produce right now. being fucked into a subspace that made you felt like you were floating and drifting through cloud nine. you felt so unbelievably good with the way jungwon kept his tip pressed so harshly against your bruised cervix, goosebumps aligning your skin as you finally felt jungwon reach the edge of his pleasure before diving in.

a broken chain of fuckfuckfuck made its way past the echoing sound of your heartbeat in your ear. you could process the way he filled you up so well. painting your walls white with his warm load, keeping himself pressed so close to you as his shaky hands tried to keep your twitching leg open, both of you reaching such an unbelievable level of delirium that left your heads aching in pleasure.

jungwon's swollen lips returned to pressing against your shoulder, his hand gently and carefully lowering your leg before wrapping around your waist. he looked over at you, taking in the heavenly sight of your fucked out expression. a sheen layer of sweat making you glow so brightly in his eyes.

his body was so fatigued after reaching the peak of his euphoria, the pleasure and satisfaction running through both of your veins as you laid in each other's embrace to catch your breaths. your eyes remained closed, still feeling the throbbing of his cock inside of you that made you moan his name out breathlessly.

“you alright, doll?” he chuckled softly, hand lifting up to tenderly caress your cheek, cooing when you moved your face closer to his touch, “mhm” you quietly hummed in reassurance, the waves of slumber descending down onto your quickly as you held him close to you.

your boyfriend quickly shifted your positions, turning you around gently after pulling out, he smiled endearingly when you whined at the loss of his length in you, quickly peppering you with kisses as he pushed your face into the crook of his neck just how he knew you liked it. he swiftly pushed himself back inside of you, holding you close when you murmured in satisfaction and content again, eyes shut tightly as you began to slowly drift off to a deep sleep.

“sleep well, doll.” with one final kiss to your head, you both fell into a much needed sleep.

a,note. reposted cuz i love nia ♡ + this wasn’t proofread !

now playing: jaeyuniversal

¡! minnie ❞

¡! any pronouns

¡! usa based

¡! mbti: entp-t

¡! sim jaeyun ult

¡! heeyunki biased <3

¡! slow updates (i’m a uni student…)

¡! my blog will contain fluff & suggestive content (smut)

please do not interact with my blog if you are: homophobic, racist, sexist, ableist, transphobic, etc.

anxiety - n.rk

pairing: stranger!nishimura riki x fem!reader

synopsis: you meet him on a quiet night — a stranger with sharp eyes and a colder edge, nothing like anyone in your sleepy suburb. he won’t talk, barely looks at you, but something about him lingers. maybe you’re just curious. or maybe you’ve seen him before.

featuring: ni-ki & jake of enhypen

genre: childhood friends to lovers, a sprinkle of angst, smut, skinship, kissing, etc.

warnings: smut (18+), difficult relationships with parents, love at first sight lowk, vulnerability, themes of implied watching (not rlly stalking) but it isn't graphic, riki smokes cigs, uhhh i think that's it?? lowercase intended heh

playlist: anxiety by doechii, clarity by zedd & sacrifice by enhypen

(smut warnings under cut)

wc: 9.120k

a/n: this is way longer than i expected but it came to me in a dream... enjoy! also i'm gonna start a perm taglist! comment on any of my fics or send an ask to be added! <3

smut content: riki's PACKING, they cum in their pants lol, dry humping, deepthroating kinda, backshots LMAO, missionary, dom!riki x sub!reader, degradation & praise kinks, creampie, like SO MUCH cum... n e ways! fluffy aftercare, unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap), tit fucking, oral (m. receiving), choking, everything is consensual, riki and reader are both so down bad for each other... lmk if i missed anything :3

(not proofread)

-ˏˋ⋆ 7 months ago ⋆ˊˎ-

it was raining the day you first felt it — that creeping sensation at the back of your neck, like invisible fingers brushing against your skin.

not a storm, not anything dramatic. just that kind of soft, cold drizzle that seeped into your clothes and made the world feel like it was holding its breath. gray sky melted into gray pavement, the horizon smeared like a half-finished painting. you were standing under the chipped awning of the old bakery on the corner, the scent of yeast and sugar mixing with the rain, waiting for your usual thursday pastry that was always slightly overbaked but comfortingly warm.

you remember scrolling through your phone, aimlessly, as your friend, jake, rambled beside you about something he saw on tv. you weren't listening. you were too aware of the feeling — that hum beneath your skin. subtle but unshakable.

“there’s someone watching me,” you’d said earlier that morning, trying to brush it off with a laugh as you stirred milk into your coffee. “it’s my anxiety.” jake didn’t look up from his phone. “or maybe you’re watching yourself spiral.”

you’d rolled your eyes. maybe he was right. midterms were looming, you hadn’t slept in days, and your brain felt like it was being slowly pulled apart by rubber bands. but still. the feeling didn’t go away.

it got worse.

you’d been fidgeting, switching the weight on your feet, chewing the inside of your cheek. and then, like something calling your name without a sound, your eyes had drifted across the street.

that’s when you saw him.

a boy. or maybe a man — it was hard to tell, the rain blurred everything. tall, impossibly still, wearing a black hoodie that clung to his shoulders. he wasn’t under any kind of shelter. he stood alone, soaked to the bone, his face half-hidden by the hood, his gaze fixed. not on the road. not on the buildings. but on you.

you stared. you didn’t recognize him. not really. and yet something deep in your chest stirred like a memory. like a name you almost remembered. like a dream you’d had once and forgotten by morning.

you glanced down for a second — a message lighting up your screen.

when you looked up, he was gone.

no footsteps. no splash. just… gone.

you never told jake. what would you say? you didn’t even know what you’d seen. maybe nothing at all.

maybe your anxiety really was watching you. maybe it had grown arms and legs and a face hidden under a rain-soaked hood. maybe it had always been there, just waiting for the right day to show itself.

either way, it started then.

and it never really stopped.

-ˏˋ⋆ present day ⋆ˊˎ-

the hallway is too quiet for a friday night.

you shuffle down the corridor with a tied-up trash bag swinging limply at your side, socks stuffed in your duck slippers, slapping against the cool tile floor. the overhead light flickers once, buzzing faintly. classic.

you reach the stairwell, already bracing yourself for the sharp chill of the outside air, when you stop short.

he’s there.

leaning against the railing of the third-floor landing, hoodie pulled up over his head, cigarette dangling between his fingers — even though this is strictly a no-smoking building. he doesn’t flinch when you turn the corner. just keeps staring out at the dim skyline, face barely visible under the shadow of his hood.

you slow down, blinking.

he’s not familiar — not really. you pride yourself on knowing every face in this sleepy apartment complex, whether through polite nods in the mailroom or awkward elevator silences. but him? nothing. no name. no room number. just angles and silence.

and yet… something about him rings in your head like a half-forgotten dream.

his profile is soft, almost too pretty to be real. sharp jaw, dark lashes, bangs dipping into his eyes. he looks like he doesn’t belong here — like someone plucked him out of a bigger story and dropped him into yours by mistake.

"hey," you offer, voice casual, just above a whisper. "you new here?"

he doesn’t look at you. doesn’t answer.

awkward.

you shift the trash bag in your hands, trying again. “i live on the second floor. don’t think i’ve seen you around before.”

still nothing. just a small exhale of smoke that curls into the cold night air.

rude, you think. but not in a mean way. more like… distant. careful.

you lean against the opposite railing, letting the silence stretch for a few seconds.

"you look familiar," you say, eyes narrowing. "have we met before?"

this time, his gaze flickers. not quite to you — just past you. a twitch of recognition, maybe. or annoyance.

you can't tell.

but your brain is racing. you know him. you must. maybe in passing. maybe in a memory. maybe you’ve just seen him out here before, on the edge of your vision, existing quietly in the corners of your routine. maybe your subconscious noticed him long before you did.

he stubs out the cigarette and walks past you without a word.

you don’t move. you just watch him disappear down the hall, hoodie covered by a black jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"okay then," you murmur to yourself, staring after him. and you can’t help it — the way your eyes linger on the spot he stood, heart ticking a little faster.

there’s something about him.

you just don’t know what. yet.

───

it's raining the next time you see him.

you’re standing under the overhang by the front entrance, fumbling with your umbrella, when the door swings open behind you. you glance back — and it’s him. again.

hoodie. same brown timberlands. same unreadable expression.

you swear he pauses when he sees you, just a fraction of a second. but maybe that’s in your head.

"you smoke a lot for someone living in a no-smoking building," you say without thinking, half a joke.

he doesn’t laugh. but his lips twitch, barely, like maybe he almost did.

he steps out into the rain without an umbrella.

"hey!" you call, surprised. "you're seriously just gonna walk in that?"

he doesn't stop. doesn't answer. but this time, he does glance back at you over his shoulder. eyes dark. thoughtful. like he’s trying to decide something.

“i’ve seen you before,” you say — louder, more certain now. “i just don’t remember where.”

his mouth parts, like he might say something. but then he turns and keeps walking, rain soaking into the fabric of his hoodie, blending him into the gray of the street.

and you're left standing there, umbrella unopened, heart kicking strangely against your ribs.

───

it’s quiet in the laundry room — too quiet. the kind of quiet that settles in your chest and presses down, like you’re underwater. the overhead light flickers occasionally, buzzing in protest, but no one’s bothered to fix it. you wouldn’t usually be here this late, but your sheets were stained and the smell was driving you insane. so here you are, half-past midnight, leaning against a rickety folding table, waiting.

your phone barely gets signal this far in the basement, and the wi-fi’s always spotty. it’s just you, the low groan of the washer, and your own thoughts trying to make conversation.

until the door creaks open.

you don’t jump, but your spine straightens on instinct. you don’t have to look up to know it’s him — the presence is immediate, unmistakable. that stillness in the air that follows him like a shadow. you finally glance up, and there he is. same black hoodie. same too-quiet footsteps. same face that looks like it doesn’t belong here. like it was carved into something older than this tiny suburban building.

he doesn’t say a word. just drops a bag on the floor and begins sorting laundry like it’s the most normal thing in the world. like you haven’t already seen him twice this week, always at night, always alone, always watching without watching.

“seriously?” you say, trying to keep your voice light. “do you just hang out in weird corners of this complex to freak people out?”

nothing.

he lifts a pair of dark jeans, shakes them out. you watch his fingers. they're pale. long. too clean for someone who lives in this building. you’ve lived here your whole life and never seen him before last week — and yet...

he feels familiar.

“okay,” you continue, stepping off the table now. the room feels colder suddenly. “do you live here? or are you like... a freak with laundry privileges?”

still nothing. you laugh under your breath, but it sounds too loud in the silence. your heartbeat starts to climb your throat.

then he says it. quiet. low.

“you used to wait outside the bakery every thursday. same dark purple coat. hair in a slick bun. you never looked both ways when you crossed the street.”

the words stop you cold.

“what?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

he still doesn’t look at you. he presses a button on the washer. it whirs to life.

“i remember,” he says simply.

and then he walks out.

no explanation. no glance back. just leaves you standing there, spine prickling, air thick with something you can’t name.

you don’t move for a long time. the washer keeps spinning. and somewhere in the back of your mind, a door creaks open — something old, something buried. you know that voice. you know it.

but from where?

and why now?

───

you see him again the next week.

it’s late. everything always is these days. late nights, late thoughts, late feelings that come crawling out of places you’ve spent years trying to bury.

he’s there again by the mailboxes, half-shrouded in the dim glow of the overhead light. same hoodie, same stillness. like he’s always belonged to the dark. like the world moves around him, but never through him.

you don’t say anything this time. just glance at him, let your eyes linger a little too long. the silence stretches like fog between you, thick and almost heavy.

when you get back to your apartment, you sit on the floor of your room, knees to your chest, staring at nothing. trying to remember.

because it’s not just déjà vu. it’s more insistent than that. it’s something sharper. something that presses at the edges of your mind like a dull knife.

you know him.

or—at least, you’ve seen him before. not in this life maybe, but in another version of it. in a hallway, maybe. in a photograph. in a moment you never thought would matter until it does.

you try to pull it apart, memory by memory. but your brain is tired and tangled, the way it always is when you think too hard about the past. especially your own.

your mom used to say you were dramatic. that you let small things become monsters under the bed. “don’t be so sensitive,” she’d snap, when you cried over things she didn’t understand. “you make everything so hard for yourself.”

your dad never said much at all.

they were loud in the wrong ways. silent in the ones that mattered. and you learned early how to turn your feelings into puzzles with missing pieces — complex enough to keep you distracted, but unsolvable enough to stop you from ever really facing them.

and yet, riki… there’s something about him that pulls at those missing pieces. like maybe he was one of them. like maybe he slipped into your life through a crack in the wall and waited, patiently, for you to notice.

was he from your old school? a kid from your neighborhood? someone you passed in a crowd once and never forgot, even if you didn’t realize it?

you hate not knowing. hate how it makes you feel like a child again — helpless and unsettled. desperate for answers no one’s willing to give.

maybe that’s what this really is. not fear. not obsession. just the ache of a memory that refuses to resurface.

he’s a question mark in human form. and you’ve never been good with uncertainty.

you don’t see him again for days.

which should be a relief. it should give you space to think, to forget. but it doesn’t. it just makes everything louder. the silence, the questions, the feeling in your gut that something is watching you — or waiting.

your sleep turns thin and restless. shadows stretch too long across your walls. you start leaving your bedroom light on. just in case.

one night, you wake up at 3:12 a.m., heart racing for no reason at all. it takes a second to realize what pulled you out of sleep — a sound. something light. deliberate.

a knock?

you hold your breath. wait. nothing.

you get up anyway.

there’s no one at the door. of course not. but something catches your eye as you start to turn back — something lying just at the edge of your doormat. small. folded. a piece of paper.

you hesitate, then pick it up. it’s blank on the outside. no name. no writing. nothing.

you open it slowly.

inside, in rushed, almost messy handwriting, are six words:

“do you really not remember me?”

your throat goes tight. your first instinct is to look around, scan the hallway, check the peephole twice. there’s no one.

no sound.

just that question burning in your hands.

do you really not remember me?

your fingers shake a little as you fold it back up. your brain is moving too fast and not fast enough at the same time. and that feeling — the one that’s been gnawing at you for days — it blooms in your chest like a scream that never makes it out.

because now it’s real. now you know you aren’t imagining it. the familiarity, the tension, the way your spine goes rigid every time you see him —

he knows you.

he’s known you.

and maybe you did know him once, too. maybe you still do, buried under everything you’ve forgotten on purpose.

you think about the look in his eyes that first night. the way he never said a word. the stillness of him.

you think of the hallway. the sound that woke you. the note.

you think of how you told your friend the other day, half-laughing, half-serious: “there’s someone watching me, it’s my anxiety.”

but what if it’s more than that?

what if it’s not just in your head?

what if it’s him? 

───

it hits you in the middle of folding laundry.

something about the way your fingers move. something about the light slanting in through the kitchen window. warm, but not comforting. and all at once, you’re not in your apartment anymore.

you’re in a house. someone else’s. maybe your own. there’s music playing — muffled through a closed door. a cheap stereo with tinny speakers. old j-pop, the kind that loops endlessly on cassettes. the wallpaper is peeling in one corner.

and then—

a voice. soft. younger. yours.

"why do you always hide when they come home?"

someone's sitting in the hallway. knees pulled to their chest. head down. shadows in the space between them like they’re both in different dimensions.

and then he looks up.

not the man in the stairwell. not riki, not yet. just a boy. sharp eyes, hollow cheeks, hair too long in front. there’s a cut on his lip. fading purple under his eye.

“because it’s safer,” he says.

the air warps around that line, like heat off asphalt. she wants to reach for him, wants to say something back, but the memory curls tighter around her, swallowing the end of it before she can hold on.

then it’s gone.

just like that.

you blink down at the pile of laundry in your lap, hands gone still.

your chest feels tight. throat aching, like you swallowed something heavy. the apartment feels colder than it should. that voice — his voice — still rings somewhere in your bones.

because you’ve heard it before. not recently. years ago.

and suddenly you’re thinking about your father’s anger. how he used to break things before he yelled. how sometimes he didn’t yell at all. how the silence always scared you more. how you stopped inviting friends over after age ten. how there was one boy you let in. once.

his name—

you press the heel of your palm to her forehead, hard, like you can shake it loose.

it won’t come. not yet.

but the shape of it is there, curling at the edges of a memory like smoke. and the boy with the bruised mouth and quiet eyes — he's not a stranger.

not even close.

later that night, you can't sleep.

there's a weight on your chest that won’t lift no matter how you shift under the sheets. it’s not insomnia — it’s memory. something clawing at the back of your skull, begging to be seen.

so you get up.

the air in the apartment is too still. even the hum of the fridge feels distant. you don't bother with the lights. just moving barefoot and slow, like any noise might scare the truth away.

the closet in the hallway creaks when you open it. you kneel. pushing past shoeboxes, tangled cords, the mess of forgotten things. until your hand hits the one you’re looking for.

a red box. scuffed corners. cheap velvet peeled at the edges. inside: scraps of a childhood. yours.

old keychains, broken friendship bracelets, polaroids faded to brown. concert tickets. a snow globe from sapporo. and then—

a photograph.

creased down the center. color bleeding with age. a summer day, maybe. you’re younger. seven or eight. awkward teeth, sunburnt nose, some awful haircut her mother swore looked cute. and beside you —

a boy.

not smiling. just… there. close, but not touching. eyes dark and watchful even then.

and it’s him.

riki.

only it wasn’t his name back then, was it? he went by ni-ki.

your breath catches. you sit back on your heels, heart thudding in your ears.

how could you forget? they lived on the same street. just four houses down. his mom used to walk him to school until she didn’t anymore. and then he stopped coming altogether.

after that, he vanished. until now.

until the stairwell. until the way he didn’t speak but looked at her like he knew everything.

you swallow the sick twist in your stomach. the sudden, sharp cold shivering down your spine.

why was he back?

and why you?

you leave the photo on the kitchen island.

maybe it’s careless, maybe even stupid, but you tell yourself it’ll make more sense in the morning. you’ll wake up, look at it with clearer eyes, and it won’t feel like your chest is caving in. besides, you live alone. and it’s just a photo.

just a photo.

you drag yourself to the couch, the blanket scratchy against your legs, exhaustion curling into your limbs like smoke. you fall asleep fast — but it’s the wrong kind of sleep. thick, dreamless, heavy with something you can’t name. a noise pulls at you. a door. or a voice. or your own heart cracking open.

you wake up just as the first light creeps through the windows. your mouth is dry. your tongue tastes like copper.

something is off.

you walk into the kitchen, still half in a fog—and stop.

the photo is gone.

you freeze, staring at the empty spot where it had been, your thoughts moving too fast and too slow all at once. the red box is still there. untouched. the lid sitting open like a mouth waiting to swallow more. you check the floor. under the fridge. between papers. nothing.

no one could’ve taken it.

the door was locked. the windows haven’t budged. you were here. you were alone.

a chill slides down your spine, sharp and crawling. you think of him again. the way he looked at you in the stairwell. not confused. not curious.

just watching.

like he already knew what you would find.

your breath catches. you don’t even realize you’ve backed up until your shoulder hits the wall.

you don’t understand what’s happening, but something is— and it’s closing in.

the silence hums in your ears. the wind slips against the glass like breath. and then you see it.

something on the kitchen table.

not the photo. but something folded.

small. white. placed exactly where the photo had been.

your name is written on the front.

in handwriting you almost recognize.

you stare at the folded paper like it might burn through the table. your name, in soft, slanted letters—almost familiar, like a half-remembered dream. the kind you wake up from with your chest tight and eyes wet, but can’t explain to anyone without sounding insane.

your fingers hesitate.

you don’t want to touch it. you want to burn it. you want to leave the apartment and never come back.

but your hand moves anyway, like it isn’t yours. like you’re being pulled by something older than memory.

the paper is heavier than it looks. the kind of paper someone saves. the kind that lives in boxes under beds, waiting to be found.

you unfold it slowly. deliberately.

the first line makes your stomach drop:

“you used to laugh with your whole face.”

your throat tightens. your vision blurs at the edges. you keep reading.

“i remember when you were afraid of thunderstorms. you’d hide under the table with that stuffed bear. the one with the missing eye.”

you sink into the nearest chair. it creaks beneath you. your heartbeat pounds in your ears like thunder.

how does he know that?

no one remembers that.

not even your mother—too busy fighting shadows of men who never stayed long enough to learn your name.

you blink hard, trying to push away the sting in your eyes. your hand shakes as you reach the last line:

“it’s okay if you don’t remember me. i remember you.”

the note isn’t signed.

but you already know who it’s from.

and you’re not sure if that makes it better… or so much worse.

you find yourself standing at the corner of the street, unsure of where to go or how to breathe. the note is heavy in your hand, the words on it are still too real. still too impossible to wrap your mind around.

but you can’t ignore it anymore. you’ve been running from something, running from the truth, but it’s all catching up with you. and it starts with one thing—one person—who might just hold the answers.

you text jake. i need to talk to you.

he replies almost immediately: come over. i’ll make coffee.

you don’t hesitate. your body moves before your brain can catch up.

jake’s apartment smells like coffee, like books, and like something homey you can’t quite place. you’ve always liked it here—quiet, safe, with jake’s easy smile and the way he always listens like he doesn’t have a million things on his plate.

but today, when he opens the door, his smile falters. his eyes linger on the note in your hand before he invites you in.

“what’s going on?” he asks, his voice soft. “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“worse,” you murmur, sitting down at the kitchen table. “riki. the guy from my apartment building. the one i’ve been thinking about.”

jake’s face changes. his usual calm demeanor cracks for a split second, but it’s enough. enough to make you sit up straighter, enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“what do you mean, the guy you’ve been thinking about?” he asks carefully. “y/n, you’ve been telling me you’ve never met him before. he’s just some weird guy who shows up at random times. are you sure you’re okay?”

you hesitate. the note is still in your hand. you want to show it to him, but something holds you back. you can’t explain this to him without sounding insane.

“he knows things, jake. about me. about my childhood. stuff no one would know.” you pause, swallowing hard. “it’s like he’s been... watching me.”

the silence in the room thickens. jake stands still, his hands gripping the edge of the table. you can feel his mind working through it, piecing things together. finally, he exhales sharply.

“you know who he is, don’t you?” jake’s voice cracks just a little, and you hate that you can hear it.

“he’s riki,” you whisper. “i know it.”

jake looks like he’s just seen a ghost too. but it’s worse than that. it’s betrayal, old wounds you never knew were still there.

“how do you know him?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

jake runs a hand through his hair, his face tight with something you can’t read. "riki... he was my best friend back home. we were inseparable when we were kids, after he randomly showed up one day. before everything in his home town happened. before he disappeared from there."

you lean forward, your heart racing. "why did he disappear?"

jake looks away, his eyes shadowed with memories. "riki got tangled up in some bad stuff, y/n. things that don’t go away, things that ruin people. he got in with the wrong crowd—gangs, debts, all kinds of shit. he disappeared from there too and... no one ever really knew what happened. but the rumors started. they said he ran. he left everything behind."

your throat tightens. “but... he didn’t.”

jake’s gaze is heavy, dark. “no. he didn’t. he’s been trying to stay hidden ever since. but some ghosts don’t stay buried, y/n.”

your chest tightens. you’ve been living in the shadow of something you can’t even remember fully. and now it’s back.

───

later that night, you find yourself standing in front of riki’s door, your heart hammering in your chest. you knock once, twice, and wait.

the door opens slowly, and riki stands there, eyes wide, almost guilty. he looks different in the light, darker somehow, worn and tired. but the same fire is still there. it’s still riki.

“you know, don’t you?” he says, his voice tight, like he’s holding something back.

you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “you disappeared. you ran. kept running. and i don’t understand why.”

riki’s eyes flicker with something—pain, maybe. “it’s not that simple. there’s things you don’t know, things i can’t tell you.”

you step closer, ignoring the hesitation in your chest. “i need to know, riki. everything. i need you to tell me.”

his jaw clenches. but then he opens the door wider, his shoulders slumping as he gestures for you to come inside.

you step into his dimly lit apartment, your heart racing. the room feels charged with something unspoken, like the air is holding its breath.

“i didn’t want you to get involved in all of this,” riki says, his voice raw. “but now that you know, i can’t just leave you hanging.”

you take a step forward, your hand trembling as you reach for him, the tension between you unbearable. “you’re not alone in this anymore, riki. i’m here.”

he looks at you, eyes haunted, like he’s trying to decide if he can trust you. then, without warning, his lips crash against yours.

you freeze for a second, the intensity of it taking you by surprise. but then your body reacts, pulling him closer, kissing him back with everything you’ve been holding in. it’s messy, desperate, like neither of you knows what’s happening but can’t stop it.

his hands are everywhere—on your waist, your back, your neck—like he’s trying to memorize you, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

your heart is racing, your body pressed against his, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s on fire.

riki pulls back, his breathing shallow, his forehead resting against yours. the tension between you two is still there, but it's different now — softer, like a thread connecting you in a way neither of you can fully explain.

"y/n," he says, his voice low but intense, trembling slightly. "there are things i never wanted to tell you, things i couldn't bear to say. i thought it would be easier to push you away, to make you hate me before you found out... but i can't do it anymore. i can't keep lying to myself."

you step back a little, your chest tightening as you watch him. his eyes are full of so many emotions—regret, pain, love—but it’s the last one that makes your heart ache with something you didn’t expect.

"i’ve been in this dark place for so long, y/n. i never thought i could get out of it. i pushed everyone away, especially you, because i knew if i let you in, you’d see the mess i am... but you’re the only one who’s ever mattered. i’ve always known it, even when i was too afraid to admit it. i love you."

his words hang in the air, raw and vulnerable. and you feel something inside of you break wide open—something you’ve been trying so hard to protect, trying to hide.

“i’ve always loved you,” riki continues, his voice softer now, almost like he’s confessing a secret that’s been buried for too long. “even when i tried to run from it, even when i tried to push you away... you were always the one. always.”

you can barely find your voice, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his words. "riki, i—"

but he shakes his head, cutting you off gently. "no, listen. i know i’ve hurt you. i know i’ve been distant, but everything i did... i did it because i was scared. scared of losing you. scared of what you’d think of me if you knew everything. but i can’t hide anymore. not from you. i’ve never stopped loving you. not even for a second.”

tears sting the back of your eyes, but you blink them away, letting his confession settle inside you. your heart feels too full, too full of emotions you don’t know how to contain. you take a deep breath, your voice trembling when you finally speak.

“i’m not going anywhere, riki,” you whisper, the words catching in your throat. “i never was. i don’t care about the past... i don’t care about what happened before. i care about you. i’ve always cared about you.”

for a moment, neither of you moves. the world feels so quiet, like everything has stopped, and it’s just the two of you in this space—this moment where everything you’ve both been hiding finally comes to light.

riki steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face, his thumbs brushing over your skin. his eyes are soft now, almost like he’s memorizing every detail of you, like he never wants to forget this moment.

“can i kiss you again?” he asks, his voice so soft, so unsure. it’s like he’s asking for permission, like he’s afraid of making the wrong move.

you nod, your breath catching in your throat. “please,” you whisper.

and then, his lips are on yours, gentle but urgent, like everything he’s held inside of him is pouring into this kiss. his hands slide to your back, pulling you closer, and you melt into him. you kiss him back with everything you’ve been holding onto, everything you’ve been feeling but never knew how to say.

when you pull back, both of you breathless, riki presses his forehead to yours, his hands resting gently on your hips. his eyes are full of that same tenderness, that same love that’s been there all along.

“i love you, y/n,” he whispers again, this time with more certainty, more peace. “and i always will. no matter what.”

and in that moment, you know, without a doubt, that everything—every question, every fear, every hesitation—has been worth it. because now, in this space, with him, everything feels right.

“i love you too, riki,” you say softly, the words more sure now. “i always will.”

and the kiss that follows is more than just passion—it’s a promise. 

he breaks the kiss and leads you to his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed. he pulls you onto his lap and crashes his lips against yours once again. 

but this kiss, it’s different than the others. 

it’s hot. fiery. desperate. 

his tongue bullies its way into your mouth, fighting for dominance which you happily give him. as you continue making out, he becomes increasingly handsy. they fly from your jaw, to your shoulder blades, sliding down to rest on your ass. he grips your clothed flesh with desire.

and that's when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness settled between his legs. pressed against your burning hot core. 

you gasped into his lips and he swallowed it up eagerly. 

he rolled your hips down onto his crotch, seeking friction to ease his hard on. groaning into the kiss, he broke it, tilting his head back.

you carefully observed how his adam’s apple bobbed each time he swallowed, your self control fading into nothing. reaching out to grab his neck, you lightly apply pressure as you leave sloppy, wet kisses all over his jaw. your eyes drop to his collarbones, noticing his hoodie getting in the way.

you shift in his lap, knees sinking further into his bed as your hands find his shoulders for balance. riki looks up at you, eyes half-lidded, lips parted slightly like he’s caught between breath and want. his hoodie is bunched up from where your fingers had tugged at the hem earlier, and when you reach for it again, he doesn’t stop you.

you pull it over his head slowly, your fingers grazing warm skin as the fabric slides up and off. beneath it, he’s wearing a black tank top that clings to him in all the right places—soft cotton stretched over lean muscle, tracing the shape of his chest and the dip of his waist.

his collarbones catch the low light of the room, sharp and defined, leading down to the elegant curve of his neck. you can see the slight rise and fall of it as he swallows, your gaze drifting lower to the sculpted line of his biceps, muscles flexing subtly under your weight, like he’s holding back.

he looks devastating like this—relaxed and bare in a way that feels forbidden, like you’re seeing something no one else is allowed to.

"you’re staring," he says quietly, a flicker of amusement in his voice, but there's a softness to it too, like he doesn’t mind being seen this way. like he wants you to look.

you smile, brushing your fingers across his shoulder, down his arm, feeling the strength beneath the surface. "can you blame me?"

he laughs under his breath, hands settling at your hips, warm and steady. "not really."

you lean in closer, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, right where it meets his collarbone. he shivers under your touch, and you feel it in your core—how easy it is to fall into him, how right it feels to be here like this.

you push him further on his bed, his back hitting the soft comforter, hands never leaving your hips. 

he captures your lips once again in a kiss that's delicate, like he’s trying to process everything but he can’t. are you really here with him right now? his childhood best friend who he forced himself to cut contact with—but then again, did he ever really cut contact with you? he had to make sure you were okay one way or another, so he watched from the shadows. even if it meant sacrificing his greatest love. you. 

as if you could sense the gears overheating in his brain, you pull away from him and stare into his familiar brown eyes. he pouts and you see a glimpse of ni-ki. the scared, eight year old who you’d give up anything to protect. 

he cradles your face like you’re made of glass and whispers, “are you sure you want this, angel? because once i start… i don’t think i’ll be able to stop.” 

you nod your head, but that doesn’t seem to be enough for him, “words, baby. i need words, hmm?” you bite back a flustered smile, “yeah ni-ki, i want this. you.” 

he grins hearing his childhood name fall out of your soft, sweet lips and picks you up off his lap so he can rest with his back against the headboard. 

settling back on his thighs, and becoming increasingly impatient, you roll your hips against his, surprising him.

he lets out a breathy moan, urging you to continue. you want to hear each of his pretty sounds.

pressing your clothed clit into the tip of his dick, he closes his eyes, biting his lip. you feel him pulsing beneath you, the thin layer of his sweats not doing much to hide his arousal. 

neither of you have ever been this turned on just by kissing, heavy petting, and grinding. but neither of you dare to stop. it feels too good, like a craving you’ve subconsciously had. 

riki pauses the movement of your hips, being the first one to break this careful, but familiar, tension between you two. “baby, give me a sec. i’m c-close,” he mutters.

wanting to see what he looks like when he finishes, you grin, dragging your hips down harder and slower, in a teasing manner. he groans, but with the same teasing energy, bucks his hips up into yours, allowing you to feel just how big he is—and he knows it, too. judging by your reaction, he can tell it’s been a while since you’ve both been intimate with someone else. 

feeling his release closer than he’d say out loud, he takes control of your movements, speeding them up. you can feel how badly he needs this. how desperate he needs you.

the friction of his covered cock rubbing repeatedly on your sensitive clit, feels better than anything you’ve ever tried with others or yourself. you’re both panting, forehead to forehead, when everything comes crashing down. riki releases into his gray sweats, making a mess. he swears he’s never cum that hard. and your panties get increasingly sticky and uncomfortable.

basking in the aftermath of your shared orgasm, riki gently holds you by the waist, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. lots of “you did great,” “that felt so good, baby,” and a lot of whining. “i need you so bad,” “please, angel, i’ll make you feel so so good.” 

who are you to deny your first and only love?

you slowly stand on wobbly legs, stripping, giving riki a show. 

he gawks as you remove each item of clothing, starting with your shirt. he’s surprised you aren’t wearing a bra but when your perky tits come into his eyesight, he’s right in front of you. grabbing—licking—whatever’s closest to his mouth and hands. 

feeling a bit exposed, while he’s still fully clothed, you whimper into his mouth, silently asking him to take his clothes off as well.

speeding up the process, he rips his tank top off and finally. finally. you get a glimpse of what he always hides under his baggy hoodies. sculpted by the greek gods, you nearly drool at his defined torso. reaching out to drag a hand down his abs, riki shivers at your gentle, yet burning, touch. 

you back him up so he sits on his bed and slowly sink to your knees. he leans back on his palms, quiet, but watching you like a hawk. you bring a hand up to cup his bulge, not caring about the sticky stain he’s left. 

he groans, low, hot, and it goes straight to your wetness, practically leaking on his floor. 

with your hands gripping his waistband, you look up into his dark eyes, clouded with lust, and he nods lifting his hips. yanking his sweats down, you’re met with his hard cock, slapping his abs. “no boxers, huh?” you smugly ask, as if he anticipated this. “nah, not when i’m relaxing, sweetheart.” sweetheart. the name he called you the last day you saw him as kids. 

staring at his flushed cock, you lick your lips, ready to devour the man sitting in front of you.

you start by gripping his base, your fingers not fully wrapping around him. how the fuck are you supposed to fit him inside your mouth? a problem you’ve never faced, but for riki? you’d be stupid not to choke on it. 

giving his tip sweet little kitten licks, you dig your tongue into his slit, as if you were trying to drink up all his precum. “fuck,” he grunts out, hoping you didn’t discover how sensitive he was at his tip. 

he thinks you didn’t, but he should really know better. 

you focus all your attention on his swollen head, sucking softly and jerking off the rest of his lengthy dick. his back falls flat, resting on his bed, while he lets out a symphony of moans. 

abruptly, you pull off him and when he leans up on his elbows to see why, he’s met with the sight of spit falling from your lips, landing right on his tip. then, his vision goes white.

you lean down, shoving him in your mouth, lips stretched around his girth. 

you take him halfway, and the stretch alone is painful already. knowing this might be an issue, riki speaks up, “fuck, you don’t have to take all of me, this already feels so—” but you cut him off, when you sink your mouth further, his tip hitting your throat. 

you swallow around him and he whimpers. he’s never felt anything like this before.

when he’s tried to hook up with girls in the past, they normally gave up after a minute of trying to unhinge their jaw to please him. 

but with you? he should’ve known you’d be the one to make him proud. 

noticing how surprised he is, you start bobbing your head up and down, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth. 

it’s messy, wet, and loud. but neither of you care. not when riki is whimpering beneath you so prettily. 

his tip repeatedly slams into the back of your throat, making you gag but it just turns him on more. his thighs start to tense and he knows he’s close to his second orgasm. 

feeling him twitch in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and ignore the tears streaming down your face. only focused on his pleasure. you know exactly what will push him over the edge, so you bring your mouth up his cock, lips wrapped carefully around his tip. 

swirling your tongue around it, occasionally focusing on his slit, you bring one hand up to his balls and the other to wrap around his base, applying pressure to the vein running along his shaft. 

one second later, your mouth gets flooded with his sticky, hot cum. rope after rope shooting from his enlarged tip. his dick is pulsing in your mouth and his cum never ends. it’s spilling out of your mouth onto the floor, but you try and swallow everything you can, not wanting to waste even a drop. 

his chest is rapidly rising and falling when you pull off of him with a pop. you wipe your mouth with the sleeve of your shirt and smile sweetly at him, acting like you didn’t just suck him so good his soul left his body.

“damn, baby, didn’t know you wanted me that bad.” he says through a smirk. “calm down nishimura, i could’ve filled up a gallon of water with how much you came,” you bite back. he just looks at your tear stained cheeks and a sense of pride swells in his chest. 

while he’s lost in his thoughts, you stand up, knees bruised from his hardwood floor. 

glancing between his legs, you notice he’s still hard. how much cum does he have for you? you wonder, taking off your jeans and panties in one go. 

now that you’re both fully naked, riki gets up off his bed and approaches you, holding one of your hands. he spins you around, taking in your fully nude body for the first time. 

noticing his staring, you open your mouth, “are you just gonna stare or fuck me?”

smoothly, he leads you to lie down on his bed, “patience, princess, be good for me while i take care of you, yeah?” oh you’re gone already.

he leans down to kiss you and your hands find his nape, gently grabbing the hair trailing down his neck. 

you mistook riki for an ass guy, when his fascination with your tits makes you break the kiss. he’s sucking gently on your right nipple, his free hand finding your left boob. 

moaning gently, you tip your head back into his pillow that smells like comfort, and something musky, but it’s something extremely riki. you instinctively arch into his touch, bare core desperately grinding into the air of his bedroom, desperate for friction. 

he senses your neediness, bringing his stiff cock down to rub between your soaked folds. his tip catches your clit, eliciting soft whimpers from your parted lips. using your slick as lube, he lines himself up, stopping before he goes further. “condom?” he sweetly asks. you whisper, under your breath, “n-no, i’m on birth—,” however, you don’t get to answer him when you feel his tip slide into your awaiting hole. 

both moaning in relief, he stays with just his tip in, preparing you for the stretch that’s about to come. you relax a bit, a signal for him to push a bit further, cutting off his action with a loud moan. 

it’s better than any porn he could dream of, and he’s only about two inches in. the sheer girth of him alone makes it feel like he’s splitting you open in the best way possible. 

you look down, thinking he’s halfway in, when in reality, he’s about a fourth of the way inside you. meeting his eyes, he senses your nerves, bringing a hand down to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves.

it helps distract you from the pain, allowing him to slide half way in. he groans at the sensation of your warm, wet walls, engulfing his aching cock. “baby, you gotta relax… you’re s’tight,” he drunkenly mumbles. you can only whimper in response, exhaling as you try to calm down.

once your breathing has returned to a normal state, riki slowly pushes in more, but it all comes to a halt when you wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him all the way in. 

he moans, caught off guard, guessing your patience snapped like a thin wire. 

as his thick length rests inside you, you can’t help but let out a string of moans, incoherently babbling about how big he feels, and how deep he’s reaching. 

“f-fuck. baby, please, can—can i move?” he forces out. you hum in agreement. 

he slowly pulls out until only his tip is sheathed inside your warm pussy, then pushes back in all the way. your eyes roll into the back of your head, “fuck. s—s’big, riks.” his pace steadily increases until he notices how your boobs bounce with each thrust he gives you. 

he brings his head down, lips wrapping around one of the perky budd, giving you even more pleasure than you knew what to do with. 

loud moans grace his ears, the only other sound being skin slapping. 

his attention is dragged back to your face when one of your hands reaches for his and brings it up to your neck. his pace falters for a bit until his face contorts, realization dawning over his lust filled features. “oh? does my baby wanna be choked? dirty slut.” you nod in response. 

feeling the pressure of his cold ring clad fingers wrapping around your burning flesh, you let out a sigh of relief, the tension in your tummy building at a rapid pace. 

riki suddenly pulls out of you, flipping you on all fours, placing a pillow under your stomach. he drags your hips up, kneading the plumpness of your ass. he slams back into you, reaching even deeper in your guts, as he hovers over your back. 

“you like feelin’ me this deep, hm?” he takes your hand and places it over the bump you feel with every thrust. your noises are muffled by his bed, which ticks him off—he wants to hear every sound that slips through your mouth. noticing that you liked things a bit rough, he pulls your hair, bringing you flush against the hardness of his chest. 

he stills inside you, letting you feel every inch, twitch, and pulse. he’s holding off his orgasm for as long as he can, but he’s not sure how long he can last when you keep clenching around him. 

he knows it’s unintentional, but it feels too good, he just needs a second. 

you can feel him breathing down your neck when you begin to move. he tries stopping you, but to no avail, you start bouncing on his stiffened cock. 

“f-fuck. gonna—cum,” he moans when he attempts to pull out. you push him back down, needing to feel him fill you up. “no. inside,” is all you can muster when he makes a sound of confusion. 

slowly gaining confidence, you turn around, and flip him over so you’re on top of him. 

flustered by the change in positions, riki gasps when you start to move. his hand finds your clit, rubbing in tight circles. 

the band in your stomach starts building, fueling both of your desperation. 

your orgasm comes crashing down in waves, pushing riki to buck his hips up, fucking you through it. “that’s it, baby, let it out. c’mon, be a good girl f’me and make a mess,” he mutters out, wanting to prolong your pleasure for as long as he can. 

as you cum, your walls uncontrollably clench around his dick, making it harder for him to slide in and out. he starts to chase his own high, gently placing your head back on his pillow and picking up your legs to rest on his shoulders. 

he pistons in and out of you, mind hazy, consumed with the need to cum inside of you. 

groaning, he stills in your abused cunt, flooding you with the gift of his cum. each pulse, you clench around his hard cock, milking him dry. 

he’s on cloud nine, feeling the way you’re taking everything he could possibly offer you.

just as he thinks he’s nearing the end of his high, you whisper in a sultry voice, “you’re still hard, riks,” which makes his skin flush a deep red. his balls tighten and somehow a couple more ropes of cum shoot into your womb. he doesn’t know what you do to him, “take it out on me, baby, i can’t imagine how pent up you must be…” and that does it for him. 

wanting to try something new, he straddles your torso, pushing your plush tits together. he aligns his sensitive cock between the flesh and slowly slides through. you stick your tongue out, trying to lick his tip each time it peeks between your boobs. 

his cock is nearly too thick for your tits to wrap around him, but he doesn’t care. the sight is more than enough for him to finish. 

he’s already close. 

the sensitivity gets to him when you begin to hold your tits together, giving him an unobstructed view of you. each time your tongue laps at his slit, he feels himself growing closer to the high he so badly craves. 

what really does it for him, is when you spit between your breasts, further lubing his cock. with a low, drawn-out moan, he paints your tits and face with his cum. the sight is too much, his balls go into overdrive, pulsing out more and more ropes of his white, messy load. 

your mouth hangs open, wanting to taste more of the salty substance. he thinks you’re perfect. 

he collapses on top of you, feeling spent and tired. it’s only when you whine about the stickiness between your legs, on your boobs, and on your face that he gets out of bed, rushing to his bathroom. 

he makes his way back over to you with a warm washcloth, and the softest touch you’ve ever felt. he gently cleans the mess he made, only now realizing how much cum he gave you. 

and you took all of it. his good girl.

once he’s done wiping away his mess, he picks you up bridal style, heading back to his bathroom. to your surprise, he drew you a bath, with scented candles—lavender. he remembered your favorite. 

he helps you into the tub, climbing in behind you. he shampoos your hair, conditions it, and even washes your body with such care, it brings tears to your eyes. 

after many hushed whispers, he drains the bathtub, helping you dry off and get into your (his) clothes. 

you both get back into his bed, snuggled against one another, riki’s embrace wrapped around you warmer than any blanket could provide. 

“riki?” you whisper, afraid to shatter the delicate silence. he hums in response. “please don’t leave me again,” you say trembling, a silent tear slipping down your cheek. 

he turns you to face him, “hey, hey, hey, baby, i’m right here. and i know what i did was shitty, you deserved an explanation. but. i couldn’t let you get caught up in what i was doing. it was risky, i couldn’t be what you deserve,” he croaks out, tears wetting his lashes. now it was your turn to comfort him, “oh my riki,” you cooed, cradling his face. 

“you did what you had to do, but what’s important is that you’re here now. with me. okay?” you plant the softest kiss on his plump lips. “okay,” he says with a small smile. 

you don’t let go. neither does he. his hands stay on your waist, tentative but needing, like he’s still trying to memorize the feel of you. your fingers linger against his jaw, your thumb brushing the damp skin beneath his eye. there’s silence between you, but it’s no longer heavy—just full. thick with everything that couldn’t be said before.

his lips brush against yours again—slower this time, deeper. like a question. and an answer. you lean in, the way you sigh into him. it’s not desperate, not rushed. it’s reverent.

when he pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath is shaky. “i missed you,” he whispers, voice barely audible. “missed you so much i forgot how to breathe without it hurting.”

you cup his face in both hands now, heart aching in the best way. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

and then you kiss him again—like a vow sealed in warmth and want. like a beginning.

reblog if u enjoyed this! and comment or send an ask to be part of my perm taglist <3

[ @jaeyuniversal ] prod. 250419

anxiety - n.rk

pairing: stranger!nishimura riki x fem!reader

synopsis: you meet him on a quiet night — a stranger with sharp eyes and a colder edge, nothing like anyone in your sleepy suburb. he won’t talk, barely looks at you, but something about him lingers. maybe you’re just curious. or maybe you’ve seen him before.

featuring: ni-ki & jake of enhypen

genre: childhood friends to lovers, a sprinkle of angst, smut, skinship, kissing, etc.

warnings: smut (18+), difficult relationships with parents, love at first sight lowk, vulnerability, themes of implied watching (not rlly stalking) but it isn't graphic, riki smokes cigs, uhhh i think that's it?? lowercase intended heh

playlist: anxiety by doechii, clarity by zedd & sacrifice by enhypen

(smut warnings under cut)

wc: 9.120k

a/n: this is way longer than i expected but it came to me in a dream... enjoy! also i'm gonna start a perm taglist! comment on any of my fics or send an ask to be added! <3

smut content: riki's PACKING, they cum in their pants lol, dry humping, deepthroating kinda, backshots LMAO, missionary, dom!riki x sub!reader, degradation & praise kinks, creampie, like SO MUCH cum... n e ways! fluffy aftercare, unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap), tit fucking, oral (m. receiving), choking, everything is consensual, riki and reader are both so down bad for each other... lmk if i missed anything :3

(not proofread)

-ˏˋ⋆ 7 months ago ⋆ˊˎ-

it was raining the day you first felt it — that creeping sensation at the back of your neck, like invisible fingers brushing against your skin.

not a storm, not anything dramatic. just that kind of soft, cold drizzle that seeped into your clothes and made the world feel like it was holding its breath. gray sky melted into gray pavement, the horizon smeared like a half-finished painting. you were standing under the chipped awning of the old bakery on the corner, the scent of yeast and sugar mixing with the rain, waiting for your usual thursday pastry that was always slightly overbaked but comfortingly warm.

you remember scrolling through your phone, aimlessly, as your friend, jake, rambled beside you about something he saw on tv. you weren't listening. you were too aware of the feeling — that hum beneath your skin. subtle but unshakable.

“there’s someone watching me,” you’d said earlier that morning, trying to brush it off with a laugh as you stirred milk into your coffee. “it’s my anxiety.” jake didn’t look up from his phone. “or maybe you’re watching yourself spiral.”

you’d rolled your eyes. maybe he was right. midterms were looming, you hadn’t slept in days, and your brain felt like it was being slowly pulled apart by rubber bands. but still. the feeling didn’t go away.

it got worse.

you’d been fidgeting, switching the weight on your feet, chewing the inside of your cheek. and then, like something calling your name without a sound, your eyes had drifted across the street.

that’s when you saw him.

a boy. or maybe a man — it was hard to tell, the rain blurred everything. tall, impossibly still, wearing a black hoodie that clung to his shoulders. he wasn’t under any kind of shelter. he stood alone, soaked to the bone, his face half-hidden by the hood, his gaze fixed. not on the road. not on the buildings. but on you.

you stared. you didn’t recognize him. not really. and yet something deep in your chest stirred like a memory. like a name you almost remembered. like a dream you’d had once and forgotten by morning.

you glanced down for a second — a message lighting up your screen.

when you looked up, he was gone.

no footsteps. no splash. just… gone.

you never told jake. what would you say? you didn’t even know what you’d seen. maybe nothing at all.

maybe your anxiety really was watching you. maybe it had grown arms and legs and a face hidden under a rain-soaked hood. maybe it had always been there, just waiting for the right day to show itself.

either way, it started then.

and it never really stopped.

-ˏˋ⋆ present day ⋆ˊˎ-

the hallway is too quiet for a friday night.

you shuffle down the corridor with a tied-up trash bag swinging limply at your side, socks stuffed in your duck slippers, slapping against the cool tile floor. the overhead light flickers once, buzzing faintly. classic.

you reach the stairwell, already bracing yourself for the sharp chill of the outside air, when you stop short.

he’s there.

leaning against the railing of the third-floor landing, hoodie pulled up over his head, cigarette dangling between his fingers — even though this is strictly a no-smoking building. he doesn’t flinch when you turn the corner. just keeps staring out at the dim skyline, face barely visible under the shadow of his hood.

you slow down, blinking.

he’s not familiar — not really. you pride yourself on knowing every face in this sleepy apartment complex, whether through polite nods in the mailroom or awkward elevator silences. but him? nothing. no name. no room number. just angles and silence.

and yet… something about him rings in your head like a half-forgotten dream.

his profile is soft, almost too pretty to be real. sharp jaw, dark lashes, bangs dipping into his eyes. he looks like he doesn’t belong here — like someone plucked him out of a bigger story and dropped him into yours by mistake.

"hey," you offer, voice casual, just above a whisper. "you new here?"

he doesn’t look at you. doesn’t answer.

awkward.

you shift the trash bag in your hands, trying again. “i live on the second floor. don’t think i’ve seen you around before.”

still nothing. just a small exhale of smoke that curls into the cold night air.

rude, you think. but not in a mean way. more like… distant. careful.

you lean against the opposite railing, letting the silence stretch for a few seconds.

"you look familiar," you say, eyes narrowing. "have we met before?"

this time, his gaze flickers. not quite to you — just past you. a twitch of recognition, maybe. or annoyance.

you can't tell.

but your brain is racing. you know him. you must. maybe in passing. maybe in a memory. maybe you’ve just seen him out here before, on the edge of your vision, existing quietly in the corners of your routine. maybe your subconscious noticed him long before you did.

he stubs out the cigarette and walks past you without a word.

you don’t move. you just watch him disappear down the hall, hoodie covered by a black jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"okay then," you murmur to yourself, staring after him. and you can’t help it — the way your eyes linger on the spot he stood, heart ticking a little faster.

there’s something about him.

you just don’t know what. yet.

───

it's raining the next time you see him.

you’re standing under the overhang by the front entrance, fumbling with your umbrella, when the door swings open behind you. you glance back — and it’s him. again.

hoodie. same brown timberlands. same unreadable expression.

you swear he pauses when he sees you, just a fraction of a second. but maybe that’s in your head.

"you smoke a lot for someone living in a no-smoking building," you say without thinking, half a joke.

he doesn’t laugh. but his lips twitch, barely, like maybe he almost did.

he steps out into the rain without an umbrella.

"hey!" you call, surprised. "you're seriously just gonna walk in that?"

he doesn't stop. doesn't answer. but this time, he does glance back at you over his shoulder. eyes dark. thoughtful. like he’s trying to decide something.

“i’ve seen you before,” you say — louder, more certain now. “i just don’t remember where.”

his mouth parts, like he might say something. but then he turns and keeps walking, rain soaking into the fabric of his hoodie, blending him into the gray of the street.

and you're left standing there, umbrella unopened, heart kicking strangely against your ribs.

───

it’s quiet in the laundry room — too quiet. the kind of quiet that settles in your chest and presses down, like you’re underwater. the overhead light flickers occasionally, buzzing in protest, but no one’s bothered to fix it. you wouldn’t usually be here this late, but your sheets were stained and the smell was driving you insane. so here you are, half-past midnight, leaning against a rickety folding table, waiting.

your phone barely gets signal this far in the basement, and the wi-fi’s always spotty. it’s just you, the low groan of the washer, and your own thoughts trying to make conversation.

until the door creaks open.

you don’t jump, but your spine straightens on instinct. you don’t have to look up to know it’s him — the presence is immediate, unmistakable. that stillness in the air that follows him like a shadow. you finally glance up, and there he is. same black hoodie. same too-quiet footsteps. same face that looks like it doesn’t belong here. like it was carved into something older than this tiny suburban building.

he doesn’t say a word. just drops a bag on the floor and begins sorting laundry like it’s the most normal thing in the world. like you haven’t already seen him twice this week, always at night, always alone, always watching without watching.

“seriously?” you say, trying to keep your voice light. “do you just hang out in weird corners of this complex to freak people out?”

nothing.

he lifts a pair of dark jeans, shakes them out. you watch his fingers. they're pale. long. too clean for someone who lives in this building. you’ve lived here your whole life and never seen him before last week — and yet...

he feels familiar.

“okay,” you continue, stepping off the table now. the room feels colder suddenly. “do you live here? or are you like... a freak with laundry privileges?”

still nothing. you laugh under your breath, but it sounds too loud in the silence. your heartbeat starts to climb your throat.

then he says it. quiet. low.

“you used to wait outside the bakery every thursday. same dark purple coat. hair in a slick bun. you never looked both ways when you crossed the street.”

the words stop you cold.

“what?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

he still doesn’t look at you. he presses a button on the washer. it whirs to life.

“i remember,” he says simply.

and then he walks out.

no explanation. no glance back. just leaves you standing there, spine prickling, air thick with something you can’t name.

you don’t move for a long time. the washer keeps spinning. and somewhere in the back of your mind, a door creaks open — something old, something buried. you know that voice. you know it.

but from where?

and why now?

───

you see him again the next week.

it’s late. everything always is these days. late nights, late thoughts, late feelings that come crawling out of places you’ve spent years trying to bury.

he’s there again by the mailboxes, half-shrouded in the dim glow of the overhead light. same hoodie, same stillness. like he’s always belonged to the dark. like the world moves around him, but never through him.

you don’t say anything this time. just glance at him, let your eyes linger a little too long. the silence stretches like fog between you, thick and almost heavy.

when you get back to your apartment, you sit on the floor of your room, knees to your chest, staring at nothing. trying to remember.

because it’s not just déjà vu. it’s more insistent than that. it’s something sharper. something that presses at the edges of your mind like a dull knife.

you know him.

or—at least, you’ve seen him before. not in this life maybe, but in another version of it. in a hallway, maybe. in a photograph. in a moment you never thought would matter until it does.

you try to pull it apart, memory by memory. but your brain is tired and tangled, the way it always is when you think too hard about the past. especially your own.

your mom used to say you were dramatic. that you let small things become monsters under the bed. “don’t be so sensitive,” she’d snap, when you cried over things she didn’t understand. “you make everything so hard for yourself.”

your dad never said much at all.

they were loud in the wrong ways. silent in the ones that mattered. and you learned early how to turn your feelings into puzzles with missing pieces — complex enough to keep you distracted, but unsolvable enough to stop you from ever really facing them.

and yet, riki… there’s something about him that pulls at those missing pieces. like maybe he was one of them. like maybe he slipped into your life through a crack in the wall and waited, patiently, for you to notice.

was he from your old school? a kid from your neighborhood? someone you passed in a crowd once and never forgot, even if you didn’t realize it?

you hate not knowing. hate how it makes you feel like a child again — helpless and unsettled. desperate for answers no one’s willing to give.

maybe that’s what this really is. not fear. not obsession. just the ache of a memory that refuses to resurface.

he’s a question mark in human form. and you’ve never been good with uncertainty.

you don’t see him again for days.

which should be a relief. it should give you space to think, to forget. but it doesn’t. it just makes everything louder. the silence, the questions, the feeling in your gut that something is watching you — or waiting.

your sleep turns thin and restless. shadows stretch too long across your walls. you start leaving your bedroom light on. just in case.

one night, you wake up at 3:12 a.m., heart racing for no reason at all. it takes a second to realize what pulled you out of sleep — a sound. something light. deliberate.

a knock?

you hold your breath. wait. nothing.

you get up anyway.

there’s no one at the door. of course not. but something catches your eye as you start to turn back — something lying just at the edge of your doormat. small. folded. a piece of paper.

you hesitate, then pick it up. it’s blank on the outside. no name. no writing. nothing.

you open it slowly.

inside, in rushed, almost messy handwriting, are six words:

“do you really not remember me?”

your throat goes tight. your first instinct is to look around, scan the hallway, check the peephole twice. there’s no one.

no sound.

just that question burning in your hands.

do you really not remember me?

your fingers shake a little as you fold it back up. your brain is moving too fast and not fast enough at the same time. and that feeling — the one that’s been gnawing at you for days — it blooms in your chest like a scream that never makes it out.

because now it’s real. now you know you aren’t imagining it. the familiarity, the tension, the way your spine goes rigid every time you see him —

he knows you.

he’s known you.

and maybe you did know him once, too. maybe you still do, buried under everything you’ve forgotten on purpose.

you think about the look in his eyes that first night. the way he never said a word. the stillness of him.

you think of the hallway. the sound that woke you. the note.

you think of how you told your friend the other day, half-laughing, half-serious: “there’s someone watching me, it’s my anxiety.”

but what if it’s more than that?

what if it’s not just in your head?

what if it’s him? 

───

it hits you in the middle of folding laundry.

something about the way your fingers move. something about the light slanting in through the kitchen window. warm, but not comforting. and all at once, you’re not in your apartment anymore.

you’re in a house. someone else’s. maybe your own. there’s music playing — muffled through a closed door. a cheap stereo with tinny speakers. old j-pop, the kind that loops endlessly on cassettes. the wallpaper is peeling in one corner.

and then—

a voice. soft. younger. yours.

"why do you always hide when they come home?"

someone's sitting in the hallway. knees pulled to their chest. head down. shadows in the space between them like they’re both in different dimensions.

and then he looks up.

not the man in the stairwell. not riki, not yet. just a boy. sharp eyes, hollow cheeks, hair too long in front. there’s a cut on his lip. fading purple under his eye.

“because it’s safer,” he says.

the air warps around that line, like heat off asphalt. she wants to reach for him, wants to say something back, but the memory curls tighter around her, swallowing the end of it before she can hold on.

then it’s gone.

just like that.

you blink down at the pile of laundry in your lap, hands gone still.

your chest feels tight. throat aching, like you swallowed something heavy. the apartment feels colder than it should. that voice — his voice — still rings somewhere in your bones.

because you’ve heard it before. not recently. years ago.

and suddenly you’re thinking about your father’s anger. how he used to break things before he yelled. how sometimes he didn’t yell at all. how the silence always scared you more. how you stopped inviting friends over after age ten. how there was one boy you let in. once.

his name—

you press the heel of your palm to her forehead, hard, like you can shake it loose.

it won’t come. not yet.

but the shape of it is there, curling at the edges of a memory like smoke. and the boy with the bruised mouth and quiet eyes — he's not a stranger.

not even close.

later that night, you can't sleep.

there's a weight on your chest that won’t lift no matter how you shift under the sheets. it’s not insomnia — it’s memory. something clawing at the back of your skull, begging to be seen.

so you get up.

the air in the apartment is too still. even the hum of the fridge feels distant. you don't bother with the lights. just moving barefoot and slow, like any noise might scare the truth away.

the closet in the hallway creaks when you open it. you kneel. pushing past shoeboxes, tangled cords, the mess of forgotten things. until your hand hits the one you’re looking for.

a red box. scuffed corners. cheap velvet peeled at the edges. inside: scraps of a childhood. yours.

old keychains, broken friendship bracelets, polaroids faded to brown. concert tickets. a snow globe from sapporo. and then—

a photograph.

creased down the center. color bleeding with age. a summer day, maybe. you’re younger. seven or eight. awkward teeth, sunburnt nose, some awful haircut her mother swore looked cute. and beside you —

a boy.

not smiling. just… there. close, but not touching. eyes dark and watchful even then.

and it’s him.

riki.

only it wasn’t his name back then, was it? he went by ni-ki.

your breath catches. you sit back on your heels, heart thudding in your ears.

how could you forget? they lived on the same street. just four houses down. his mom used to walk him to school until she didn’t anymore. and then he stopped coming altogether.

after that, he vanished. until now.

until the stairwell. until the way he didn’t speak but looked at her like he knew everything.

you swallow the sick twist in your stomach. the sudden, sharp cold shivering down your spine.

why was he back?

and why you?

you leave the photo on the kitchen island.

maybe it’s careless, maybe even stupid, but you tell yourself it’ll make more sense in the morning. you’ll wake up, look at it with clearer eyes, and it won’t feel like your chest is caving in. besides, you live alone. and it’s just a photo.

just a photo.

you drag yourself to the couch, the blanket scratchy against your legs, exhaustion curling into your limbs like smoke. you fall asleep fast — but it’s the wrong kind of sleep. thick, dreamless, heavy with something you can’t name. a noise pulls at you. a door. or a voice. or your own heart cracking open.

you wake up just as the first light creeps through the windows. your mouth is dry. your tongue tastes like copper.

something is off.

you walk into the kitchen, still half in a fog—and stop.

the photo is gone.

you freeze, staring at the empty spot where it had been, your thoughts moving too fast and too slow all at once. the red box is still there. untouched. the lid sitting open like a mouth waiting to swallow more. you check the floor. under the fridge. between papers. nothing.

no one could’ve taken it.

the door was locked. the windows haven’t budged. you were here. you were alone.

a chill slides down your spine, sharp and crawling. you think of him again. the way he looked at you in the stairwell. not confused. not curious.

just watching.

like he already knew what you would find.

your breath catches. you don’t even realize you’ve backed up until your shoulder hits the wall.

you don’t understand what’s happening, but something is— and it’s closing in.

the silence hums in your ears. the wind slips against the glass like breath. and then you see it.

something on the kitchen table.

not the photo. but something folded.

small. white. placed exactly where the photo had been.

your name is written on the front.

in handwriting you almost recognize.

you stare at the folded paper like it might burn through the table. your name, in soft, slanted letters—almost familiar, like a half-remembered dream. the kind you wake up from with your chest tight and eyes wet, but can’t explain to anyone without sounding insane.

your fingers hesitate.

you don’t want to touch it. you want to burn it. you want to leave the apartment and never come back.

but your hand moves anyway, like it isn’t yours. like you’re being pulled by something older than memory.

the paper is heavier than it looks. the kind of paper someone saves. the kind that lives in boxes under beds, waiting to be found.

you unfold it slowly. deliberately.

the first line makes your stomach drop:

“you used to laugh with your whole face.”

your throat tightens. your vision blurs at the edges. you keep reading.

“i remember when you were afraid of thunderstorms. you’d hide under the table with that stuffed bear. the one with the missing eye.”

you sink into the nearest chair. it creaks beneath you. your heartbeat pounds in your ears like thunder.

how does he know that?

no one remembers that.

not even your mother—too busy fighting shadows of men who never stayed long enough to learn your name.

you blink hard, trying to push away the sting in your eyes. your hand shakes as you reach the last line:

“it’s okay if you don’t remember me. i remember you.”

the note isn’t signed.

but you already know who it’s from.

and you’re not sure if that makes it better… or so much worse.

you find yourself standing at the corner of the street, unsure of where to go or how to breathe. the note is heavy in your hand, the words on it are still too real. still too impossible to wrap your mind around.

but you can’t ignore it anymore. you’ve been running from something, running from the truth, but it’s all catching up with you. and it starts with one thing—one person—who might just hold the answers.

you text jake. i need to talk to you.

he replies almost immediately: come over. i’ll make coffee.

you don’t hesitate. your body moves before your brain can catch up.

jake’s apartment smells like coffee, like books, and like something homey you can’t quite place. you’ve always liked it here—quiet, safe, with jake’s easy smile and the way he always listens like he doesn’t have a million things on his plate.

but today, when he opens the door, his smile falters. his eyes linger on the note in your hand before he invites you in.

“what’s going on?” he asks, his voice soft. “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“worse,” you murmur, sitting down at the kitchen table. “riki. the guy from my apartment building. the one i’ve been thinking about.”

jake’s face changes. his usual calm demeanor cracks for a split second, but it’s enough. enough to make you sit up straighter, enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“what do you mean, the guy you’ve been thinking about?” he asks carefully. “y/n, you’ve been telling me you’ve never met him before. he’s just some weird guy who shows up at random times. are you sure you’re okay?”

you hesitate. the note is still in your hand. you want to show it to him, but something holds you back. you can’t explain this to him without sounding insane.

“he knows things, jake. about me. about my childhood. stuff no one would know.” you pause, swallowing hard. “it’s like he’s been... watching me.”

the silence in the room thickens. jake stands still, his hands gripping the edge of the table. you can feel his mind working through it, piecing things together. finally, he exhales sharply.

“you know who he is, don’t you?” jake’s voice cracks just a little, and you hate that you can hear it.

“he’s riki,” you whisper. “i know it.”

jake looks like he’s just seen a ghost too. but it’s worse than that. it’s betrayal, old wounds you never knew were still there.

“how do you know him?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

jake runs a hand through his hair, his face tight with something you can’t read. "riki... he was my best friend back home. we were inseparable when we were kids, after he randomly showed up one day. before everything in his home town happened. before he disappeared from there."

you lean forward, your heart racing. "why did he disappear?"

jake looks away, his eyes shadowed with memories. "riki got tangled up in some bad stuff, y/n. things that don’t go away, things that ruin people. he got in with the wrong crowd—gangs, debts, all kinds of shit. he disappeared from there too and... no one ever really knew what happened. but the rumors started. they said he ran. he left everything behind."

your throat tightens. “but... he didn’t.”

jake’s gaze is heavy, dark. “no. he didn’t. he’s been trying to stay hidden ever since. but some ghosts don’t stay buried, y/n.”

your chest tightens. you’ve been living in the shadow of something you can’t even remember fully. and now it’s back.

───

later that night, you find yourself standing in front of riki’s door, your heart hammering in your chest. you knock once, twice, and wait.

the door opens slowly, and riki stands there, eyes wide, almost guilty. he looks different in the light, darker somehow, worn and tired. but the same fire is still there. it’s still riki.

“you know, don’t you?” he says, his voice tight, like he’s holding something back.

you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “you disappeared. you ran. kept running. and i don’t understand why.”

riki’s eyes flicker with something—pain, maybe. “it’s not that simple. there’s things you don’t know, things i can’t tell you.”

you step closer, ignoring the hesitation in your chest. “i need to know, riki. everything. i need you to tell me.”

his jaw clenches. but then he opens the door wider, his shoulders slumping as he gestures for you to come inside.

you step into his dimly lit apartment, your heart racing. the room feels charged with something unspoken, like the air is holding its breath.

“i didn’t want you to get involved in all of this,” riki says, his voice raw. “but now that you know, i can’t just leave you hanging.”

you take a step forward, your hand trembling as you reach for him, the tension between you unbearable. “you’re not alone in this anymore, riki. i’m here.”

he looks at you, eyes haunted, like he’s trying to decide if he can trust you. then, without warning, his lips crash against yours.

you freeze for a second, the intensity of it taking you by surprise. but then your body reacts, pulling him closer, kissing him back with everything you’ve been holding in. it’s messy, desperate, like neither of you knows what’s happening but can’t stop it.

his hands are everywhere—on your waist, your back, your neck—like he’s trying to memorize you, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

your heart is racing, your body pressed against his, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s on fire.

riki pulls back, his breathing shallow, his forehead resting against yours. the tension between you two is still there, but it's different now — softer, like a thread connecting you in a way neither of you can fully explain.

"y/n," he says, his voice low but intense, trembling slightly. "there are things i never wanted to tell you, things i couldn't bear to say. i thought it would be easier to push you away, to make you hate me before you found out... but i can't do it anymore. i can't keep lying to myself."

you step back a little, your chest tightening as you watch him. his eyes are full of so many emotions—regret, pain, love—but it’s the last one that makes your heart ache with something you didn’t expect.

"i’ve been in this dark place for so long, y/n. i never thought i could get out of it. i pushed everyone away, especially you, because i knew if i let you in, you’d see the mess i am... but you’re the only one who’s ever mattered. i’ve always known it, even when i was too afraid to admit it. i love you."

his words hang in the air, raw and vulnerable. and you feel something inside of you break wide open—something you’ve been trying so hard to protect, trying to hide.

“i’ve always loved you,” riki continues, his voice softer now, almost like he’s confessing a secret that’s been buried for too long. “even when i tried to run from it, even when i tried to push you away... you were always the one. always.”

you can barely find your voice, overwhelmed by the tenderness in his words. "riki, i—"

but he shakes his head, cutting you off gently. "no, listen. i know i’ve hurt you. i know i’ve been distant, but everything i did... i did it because i was scared. scared of losing you. scared of what you’d think of me if you knew everything. but i can’t hide anymore. not from you. i’ve never stopped loving you. not even for a second.”

tears sting the back of your eyes, but you blink them away, letting his confession settle inside you. your heart feels too full, too full of emotions you don’t know how to contain. you take a deep breath, your voice trembling when you finally speak.

“i’m not going anywhere, riki,” you whisper, the words catching in your throat. “i never was. i don’t care about the past... i don’t care about what happened before. i care about you. i’ve always cared about you.”

for a moment, neither of you moves. the world feels so quiet, like everything has stopped, and it’s just the two of you in this space—this moment where everything you’ve both been hiding finally comes to light.

riki steps closer, his hands gently cupping your face, his thumbs brushing over your skin. his eyes are soft now, almost like he’s memorizing every detail of you, like he never wants to forget this moment.

“can i kiss you again?” he asks, his voice so soft, so unsure. it’s like he’s asking for permission, like he’s afraid of making the wrong move.

you nod, your breath catching in your throat. “please,” you whisper.

and then, his lips are on yours, gentle but urgent, like everything he’s held inside of him is pouring into this kiss. his hands slide to your back, pulling you closer, and you melt into him. you kiss him back with everything you’ve been holding onto, everything you’ve been feeling but never knew how to say.

when you pull back, both of you breathless, riki presses his forehead to yours, his hands resting gently on your hips. his eyes are full of that same tenderness, that same love that’s been there all along.

“i love you, y/n,” he whispers again, this time with more certainty, more peace. “and i always will. no matter what.”

and in that moment, you know, without a doubt, that everything—every question, every fear, every hesitation—has been worth it. because now, in this space, with him, everything feels right.

“i love you too, riki,” you say softly, the words more sure now. “i always will.”

and the kiss that follows is more than just passion—it’s a promise. 

he breaks the kiss and leads you to his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed. he pulls you onto his lap and crashes his lips against yours once again. 

but this kiss, it’s different than the others. 

it’s hot. fiery. desperate. 

his tongue bullies its way into your mouth, fighting for dominance which you happily give him. as you continue making out, he becomes increasingly handsy. they fly from your jaw, to your shoulder blades, sliding down to rest on your ass. he grips your clothed flesh with desire.

and that's when you feel it—the unmistakable hardness settled between his legs. pressed against your burning hot core. 

you gasped into his lips and he swallowed it up eagerly. 

he rolled your hips down onto his crotch, seeking friction to ease his hard on. groaning into the kiss, he broke it, tilting his head back.

you carefully observed how his adam’s apple bobbed each time he swallowed, your self control fading into nothing. reaching out to grab his neck, you lightly apply pressure as you leave sloppy, wet kisses all over his jaw. your eyes drop to his collarbones, noticing his hoodie getting in the way.

you shift in his lap, knees sinking further into his bed as your hands find his shoulders for balance. riki looks up at you, eyes half-lidded, lips parted slightly like he’s caught between breath and want. his hoodie is bunched up from where your fingers had tugged at the hem earlier, and when you reach for it again, he doesn’t stop you.

you pull it over his head slowly, your fingers grazing warm skin as the fabric slides up and off. beneath it, he’s wearing a black tank top that clings to him in all the right places—soft cotton stretched over lean muscle, tracing the shape of his chest and the dip of his waist.

his collarbones catch the low light of the room, sharp and defined, leading down to the elegant curve of his neck. you can see the slight rise and fall of it as he swallows, your gaze drifting lower to the sculpted line of his biceps, muscles flexing subtly under your weight, like he’s holding back.

he looks devastating like this—relaxed and bare in a way that feels forbidden, like you’re seeing something no one else is allowed to.

"you’re staring," he says quietly, a flicker of amusement in his voice, but there's a softness to it too, like he doesn’t mind being seen this way. like he wants you to look.

you smile, brushing your fingers across his shoulder, down his arm, feeling the strength beneath the surface. "can you blame me?"

he laughs under his breath, hands settling at your hips, warm and steady. "not really."

you lean in closer, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, right where it meets his collarbone. he shivers under your touch, and you feel it in your core—how easy it is to fall into him, how right it feels to be here like this.

you push him further on his bed, his back hitting the soft comforter, hands never leaving your hips. 

he captures your lips once again in a kiss that's delicate, like he’s trying to process everything but he can’t. are you really here with him right now? his childhood best friend who he forced himself to cut contact with—but then again, did he ever really cut contact with you? he had to make sure you were okay one way or another, so he watched from the shadows. even if it meant sacrificing his greatest love. you. 

as if you could sense the gears overheating in his brain, you pull away from him and stare into his familiar brown eyes. he pouts and you see a glimpse of ni-ki. the scared, eight year old who you’d give up anything to protect. 

he cradles your face like you’re made of glass and whispers, “are you sure you want this, angel? because once i start… i don’t think i’ll be able to stop.” 

you nod your head, but that doesn’t seem to be enough for him, “words, baby. i need words, hmm?” you bite back a flustered smile, “yeah ni-ki, i want this. you.” 

he grins hearing his childhood name fall out of your soft, sweet lips and picks you up off his lap so he can rest with his back against the headboard. 

settling back on his thighs, and becoming increasingly impatient, you roll your hips against his, surprising him.

he lets out a breathy moan, urging you to continue. you want to hear each of his pretty sounds.

pressing your clothed clit into the tip of his dick, he closes his eyes, biting his lip. you feel him pulsing beneath you, the thin layer of his sweats not doing much to hide his arousal. 

neither of you have ever been this turned on just by kissing, heavy petting, and grinding. but neither of you dare to stop. it feels too good, like a craving you’ve subconsciously had. 

riki pauses the movement of your hips, being the first one to break this careful, but familiar, tension between you two. “baby, give me a sec. i’m c-close,” he mutters.

wanting to see what he looks like when he finishes, you grin, dragging your hips down harder and slower, in a teasing manner. he groans, but with the same teasing energy, bucks his hips up into yours, allowing you to feel just how big he is—and he knows it, too. judging by your reaction, he can tell it’s been a while since you’ve both been intimate with someone else. 

feeling his release closer than he’d say out loud, he takes control of your movements, speeding them up. you can feel how badly he needs this. how desperate he needs you.

the friction of his covered cock rubbing repeatedly on your sensitive clit, feels better than anything you’ve ever tried with others or yourself. you’re both panting, forehead to forehead, when everything comes crashing down. riki releases into his gray sweats, making a mess. he swears he’s never cum that hard. and your panties get increasingly sticky and uncomfortable.

basking in the aftermath of your shared orgasm, riki gently holds you by the waist, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. lots of “you did great,” “that felt so good, baby,” and a lot of whining. “i need you so bad,” “please, angel, i’ll make you feel so so good.” 

who are you to deny your first and only love?

you slowly stand on wobbly legs, stripping, giving riki a show. 

he gawks as you remove each item of clothing, starting with your shirt. he’s surprised you aren’t wearing a bra but when your perky tits come into his eyesight, he’s right in front of you. grabbing—licking—whatever’s closest to his mouth and hands. 

feeling a bit exposed, while he’s still fully clothed, you whimper into his mouth, silently asking him to take his clothes off as well.

speeding up the process, he rips his tank top off and finally. finally. you get a glimpse of what he always hides under his baggy hoodies. sculpted by the greek gods, you nearly drool at his defined torso. reaching out to drag a hand down his abs, riki shivers at your gentle, yet burning, touch. 

you back him up so he sits on his bed and slowly sink to your knees. he leans back on his palms, quiet, but watching you like a hawk. you bring a hand up to cup his bulge, not caring about the sticky stain he’s left. 

he groans, low, hot, and it goes straight to your wetness, practically leaking on his floor. 

with your hands gripping his waistband, you look up into his dark eyes, clouded with lust, and he nods lifting his hips. yanking his sweats down, you’re met with his hard cock, slapping his abs. “no boxers, huh?” you smugly ask, as if he anticipated this. “nah, not when i’m relaxing, sweetheart.” sweetheart. the name he called you the last day you saw him as kids. 

staring at his flushed cock, you lick your lips, ready to devour the man sitting in front of you.

you start by gripping his base, your fingers not fully wrapping around him. how the fuck are you supposed to fit him inside your mouth? a problem you’ve never faced, but for riki? you’d be stupid not to choke on it. 

giving his tip sweet little kitten licks, you dig your tongue into his slit, as if you were trying to drink up all his precum. “fuck,” he grunts out, hoping you didn’t discover how sensitive he was at his tip. 

he thinks you didn’t, but he should really know better. 

you focus all your attention on his swollen head, sucking softly and jerking off the rest of his lengthy dick. his back falls flat, resting on his bed, while he lets out a symphony of moans. 

abruptly, you pull off him and when he leans up on his elbows to see why, he’s met with the sight of spit falling from your lips, landing right on his tip. then, his vision goes white.

you lean down, shoving him in your mouth, lips stretched around his girth. 

you take him halfway, and the stretch alone is painful already. knowing this might be an issue, riki speaks up, “fuck, you don’t have to take all of me, this already feels so—” but you cut him off, when you sink your mouth further, his tip hitting your throat. 

you swallow around him and he whimpers. he’s never felt anything like this before.

when he’s tried to hook up with girls in the past, they normally gave up after a minute of trying to unhinge their jaw to please him. 

but with you? he should’ve known you’d be the one to make him proud. 

noticing how surprised he is, you start bobbing your head up and down, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth. 

it’s messy, wet, and loud. but neither of you care. not when riki is whimpering beneath you so prettily. 

his tip repeatedly slams into the back of your throat, making you gag but it just turns him on more. his thighs start to tense and he knows he’s close to his second orgasm. 

feeling him twitch in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and ignore the tears streaming down your face. only focused on his pleasure. you know exactly what will push him over the edge, so you bring your mouth up his cock, lips wrapped carefully around his tip. 

swirling your tongue around it, occasionally focusing on his slit, you bring one hand up to his balls and the other to wrap around his base, applying pressure to the vein running along his shaft. 

one second later, your mouth gets flooded with his sticky, hot cum. rope after rope shooting from his enlarged tip. his dick is pulsing in your mouth and his cum never ends. it’s spilling out of your mouth onto the floor, but you try and swallow everything you can, not wanting to waste even a drop. 

his chest is rapidly rising and falling when you pull off of him with a pop. you wipe your mouth with the sleeve of your shirt and smile sweetly at him, acting like you didn’t just suck him so good his soul left his body.

“damn, baby, didn’t know you wanted me that bad.” he says through a smirk. “calm down nishimura, i could’ve filled up a gallon of water with how much you came,” you bite back. he just looks at your tear stained cheeks and a sense of pride swells in his chest. 

while he’s lost in his thoughts, you stand up, knees bruised from his hardwood floor. 

glancing between his legs, you notice he’s still hard. how much cum does he have for you? you wonder, taking off your jeans and panties in one go. 

now that you’re both fully naked, riki gets up off his bed and approaches you, holding one of your hands. he spins you around, taking in your fully nude body for the first time. 

noticing his staring, you open your mouth, “are you just gonna stare or fuck me?”

smoothly, he leads you to lie down on his bed, “patience, princess, be good for me while i take care of you, yeah?” oh you’re gone already.

he leans down to kiss you and your hands find his nape, gently grabbing the hair trailing down his neck. 

you mistook riki for an ass guy, when his fascination with your tits makes you break the kiss. he’s sucking gently on your right nipple, his free hand finding your left boob. 

moaning gently, you tip your head back into his pillow that smells like comfort, and something musky, but it’s something extremely riki. you instinctively arch into his touch, bare core desperately grinding into the air of his bedroom, desperate for friction. 

he senses your neediness, bringing his stiff cock down to rub between your soaked folds. his tip catches your clit, eliciting soft whimpers from your parted lips. using your slick as lube, he lines himself up, stopping before he goes further. “condom?” he sweetly asks. you whisper, under your breath, “n-no, i’m on birth—,” however, you don’t get to answer him when you feel his tip slide into your awaiting hole. 

both moaning in relief, he stays with just his tip in, preparing you for the stretch that’s about to come. you relax a bit, a signal for him to push a bit further, cutting off his action with a loud moan. 

it’s better than any porn he could dream of, and he’s only about two inches in. the sheer girth of him alone makes it feel like he’s splitting you open in the best way possible. 

you look down, thinking he’s halfway in, when in reality, he’s about a fourth of the way inside you. meeting his eyes, he senses your nerves, bringing a hand down to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves.

it helps distract you from the pain, allowing him to slide half way in. he groans at the sensation of your warm, wet walls, engulfing his aching cock. “baby, you gotta relax… you’re s’tight,” he drunkenly mumbles. you can only whimper in response, exhaling as you try to calm down.

once your breathing has returned to a normal state, riki slowly pushes in more, but it all comes to a halt when you wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him all the way in. 

he moans, caught off guard, guessing your patience snapped like a thin wire. 

as his thick length rests inside you, you can’t help but let out a string of moans, incoherently babbling about how big he feels, and how deep he’s reaching. 

“f-fuck. baby, please, can—can i move?” he forces out. you hum in agreement. 

he slowly pulls out until only his tip is sheathed inside your warm pussy, then pushes back in all the way. your eyes roll into the back of your head, “fuck. s—s’big, riks.” his pace steadily increases until he notices how your boobs bounce with each thrust he gives you. 

he brings his head down, lips wrapping around one of the perky budd, giving you even more pleasure than you knew what to do with. 

loud moans grace his ears, the only other sound being skin slapping. 

his attention is dragged back to your face when one of your hands reaches for his and brings it up to your neck. his pace falters for a bit until his face contorts, realization dawning over his lust filled features. “oh? does my baby wanna be choked? dirty slut.” you nod in response. 

feeling the pressure of his cold ring clad fingers wrapping around your burning flesh, you let out a sigh of relief, the tension in your tummy building at a rapid pace. 

riki suddenly pulls out of you, flipping you on all fours, placing a pillow under your stomach. he drags your hips up, kneading the plumpness of your ass. he slams back into you, reaching even deeper in your guts, as he hovers over your back. 

“you like feelin’ me this deep, hm?” he takes your hand and places it over the bump you feel with every thrust. your noises are muffled by his bed, which ticks him off—he wants to hear every sound that slips through your mouth. noticing that you liked things a bit rough, he pulls your hair, bringing you flush against the hardness of his chest. 

he stills inside you, letting you feel every inch, twitch, and pulse. he’s holding off his orgasm for as long as he can, but he’s not sure how long he can last when you keep clenching around him. 

he knows it’s unintentional, but it feels too good, he just needs a second. 

you can feel him breathing down your neck when you begin to move. he tries stopping you, but to no avail, you start bouncing on his stiffened cock. 

“f-fuck. gonna—cum,” he moans when he attempts to pull out. you push him back down, needing to feel him fill you up. “no. inside,” is all you can muster when he makes a sound of confusion. 

slowly gaining confidence, you turn around, and flip him over so you’re on top of him. 

flustered by the change in positions, riki gasps when you start to move. his hand finds your clit, rubbing in tight circles. 

the band in your stomach starts building, fueling both of your desperation. 

your orgasm comes crashing down in waves, pushing riki to buck his hips up, fucking you through it. “that’s it, baby, let it out. c’mon, be a good girl f’me and make a mess,” he mutters out, wanting to prolong your pleasure for as long as he can. 

as you cum, your walls uncontrollably clench around his dick, making it harder for him to slide in and out. he starts to chase his own high, gently placing your head back on his pillow and picking up your legs to rest on his shoulders. 

he pistons in and out of you, mind hazy, consumed with the need to cum inside of you. 

groaning, he stills in your abused cunt, flooding you with the gift of his cum. each pulse, you clench around his hard cock, milking him dry. 

he’s on cloud nine, feeling the way you’re taking everything he could possibly offer you.

just as he thinks he’s nearing the end of his high, you whisper in a sultry voice, “you’re still hard, riks,” which makes his skin flush a deep red. his balls tighten and somehow a couple more ropes of cum shoot into your womb. he doesn’t know what you do to him, “take it out on me, baby, i can’t imagine how pent up you must be…” and that does it for him. 

wanting to try something new, he straddles your torso, pushing your plush tits together. he aligns his sensitive cock between the flesh and slowly slides through. you stick your tongue out, trying to lick his tip each time it peeks between your boobs. 

his cock is nearly too thick for your tits to wrap around him, but he doesn’t care. the sight is more than enough for him to finish. 

he’s already close. 

the sensitivity gets to him when you begin to hold your tits together, giving him an unobstructed view of you. each time your tongue laps at his slit, he feels himself growing closer to the high he so badly craves. 

what really does it for him, is when you spit between your breasts, further lubing his cock. with a low, drawn-out moan, he paints your tits and face with his cum. the sight is too much, his balls go into overdrive, pulsing out more and more ropes of his white, messy load. 

your mouth hangs open, wanting to taste more of the salty substance. he thinks you’re perfect. 

he collapses on top of you, feeling spent and tired. it’s only when you whine about the stickiness between your legs, on your boobs, and on your face that he gets out of bed, rushing to his bathroom. 

he makes his way back over to you with a warm washcloth, and the softest touch you’ve ever felt. he gently cleans the mess he made, only now realizing how much cum he gave you. 

and you took all of it. his good girl.

once he’s done wiping away his mess, he picks you up bridal style, heading back to his bathroom. to your surprise, he drew you a bath, with scented candles—lavender. he remembered your favorite. 

he helps you into the tub, climbing in behind you. he shampoos your hair, conditions it, and even washes your body with such care, it brings tears to your eyes. 

after many hushed whispers, he drains the bathtub, helping you dry off and get into your (his) clothes. 

you both get back into his bed, snuggled against one another, riki’s embrace wrapped around you warmer than any blanket could provide. 

“riki?” you whisper, afraid to shatter the delicate silence. he hums in response. “please don’t leave me again,” you say trembling, a silent tear slipping down your cheek. 

he turns you to face him, “hey, hey, hey, baby, i’m right here. and i know what i did was shitty, you deserved an explanation. but. i couldn’t let you get caught up in what i was doing. it was risky, i couldn’t be what you deserve,” he croaks out, tears wetting his lashes. now it was your turn to comfort him, “oh my riki,” you cooed, cradling his face. 

“you did what you had to do, but what’s important is that you’re here now. with me. okay?” you plant the softest kiss on his plump lips. “okay,” he says with a small smile. 

you don’t let go. neither does he. his hands stay on your waist, tentative but needing, like he’s still trying to memorize the feel of you. your fingers linger against his jaw, your thumb brushing the damp skin beneath his eye. there’s silence between you, but it’s no longer heavy—just full. thick with everything that couldn’t be said before.

his lips brush against yours again—slower this time, deeper. like a question. and an answer. you lean in, the way you sigh into him. it’s not desperate, not rushed. it’s reverent.

when he pulls back just slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath is shaky. “i missed you,” he whispers, voice barely audible. “missed you so much i forgot how to breathe without it hurting.”

you cup his face in both hands now, heart aching in the best way. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

and then you kiss him again—like a vow sealed in warmth and want. like a beginning.

reblog if u enjoyed this! and comment or send an ask to be part of my perm taglist <3

[ @jaeyuniversal ] prod. 250419

hopeless ☆ heeseung lee

☆ horrendously down bad! heeseung x fem! reader ☆ summary: absolutely no one would have expected the dark, brooding, and rough heeseung lee to be hopelessly head over heels in love with the sweet, oblivious you. especially you. even with the help of practically the entire year, it's almost pathetic the way heeseung struggles to utter three, simple words to you, let alone look you in the eye. ☆ genre: fluff!!! pining, SUPER WHIPPED HEESEUNG, high school! au, non-idol! au, a lot of 01 liner idols + the rest of enha make appearances, btw this follows the asian school system, SO MUCH FLIRTING OMG, heeseung is kinda pathetic and awk ☆ warning(s)? swearing and dumb characters lol, there is one SA scene, but it is not graphic + very minor violence ☆ word count: 10.8k ☆ this is extremely based off of "danger" by bts, especially the lyric "you're cute, and i'm pathetic" lol enjoy!

Heeseung Lee was stressed. 

No. He was distraught. 

Distraught about how fucking cute you looked today.

Ever since he was a kid, Heeseung loved Halloween, because he loved Trick-or-Treating with his older brother and cousins. However now, at the age of seventeen, he found himself resenting it. Not because there was any issue with the holiday, but because today was Halloween. 

From across the classroom, Heeseung found himself staring, all dazed and empty-headed, at you, who was clad in your cute bunny costume. The way the fluffy, white ears stuck out from the top of your head, as well as the fluffy white coat draped around your shoulders, made you look so soft and cozy and adorable. The way your nose crinkled as you laughed with your friends, sweet sounds coming from your lips as you threw your head back. 

Were you real? How could anyone be so goddamn beautiful and not be an actual angel sent from above? What country did Heeseung save in his past life in order to get to be in your presence in this life?

"Dude, you're staring," a new voice interjected.

"What?" Heeseung tore his eyes away from you. "I wasn't."

Beomgyu Choi was one of Heeseung's classmates. And, like everyone else in their year, Beomgyu knew how enamored Heeseung was with you. Other than yourself, of course.

"I'm tellin' you," Beomgyu plopped down onto his seat, which was beside Heeseung's. He slid his chair so that he would be closer to his classmate, before throwing an arm around Heeseung. "You need to make a move. Like, now."

Heeseung glanced over at his classmate. If he ignored the fake blood on Beomgyu's chin, as well as the fake, plastic vampire teeth and the god-awful Spirit Halloween Dracula cape, he'd know that Beomgyu was 100% correct. 

Everyone (and seriously, everyone) knew that Heeseung Lee had the biggest, juiciest, most obnoxious crush on you. In fact, your own friends had even tasked themselves with the job of putting in a good word for Heeseung, saying things like "Isn't he so cool?" into your ear to hopefully guide you straight into his arms. It's such a well-known fact that some of your teachers have purposefully placed you and Heeseung next to or near each other in order to help him with his more-than-obvious crush. 

With such a big, school-wide effort, it should be expected that at least some progress was made.

Wrong!

Not even a single stroke of progress has been made.

Probably because there was one teensy, weensy, eensy, problem: Heeseung was an absolute mess around you. Heeseung was known as this tall, blunt, and rough guy at school. When he wasn't silently judging everyone, he hung out with his group of friends, who had a reputation for being delinquents. Heeseung Lee, clad in his iconic black leather jacket, was intimidating, and usually had no problem speaking up for himself. But around you? Absolutely not.

If anyone thought that Heeseung Lee could easily speak to you, they were out of their goddamn mind. There were too many instances where your classmates would push Heeseung and you together, only for him to blow it because he was completely incapable of looking you in the eye without turning red. 

In Heeseung's defense, you were the most beautiful person in the world— How is he not supposed to get nervous?

"You know I can't," Heeseung murmured, clenching his fists.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Hee. What happened to banger Heeseung Lee? Heeseung Lee that beats up kids? I didn't think you'd be scared of talking to girls."

"First of all," Heeseung frowned, "I'm not a banger and I don't beat up kids. And also, I'm not scared of talking to girls."

His classmate quirked a brow. "Really?" Heeseung nodded. "Because the last time I remember, you could barely get a word out in front of [Name]."

At the sound of your name, Heeseung jerked in his seat, reaching out to grasp Beomgyu's arm. "Shhhh, don't say her name so loud!" he hissed, eyes quivering over to where you were with your friends.

"What?" Beomgyu looked around indiscreetly. "It's not a secret to anyone how you feel about [Name]."

"Shhhh! Shut up!"

When the bell rang, everyone scurried to their seat, and class began. As Beomgyu tuned out the sound of the teacher's voice, he couldn't help but notice the way Heeseung's eyes were completely glued to you. It was almost laughable, the way the boy's eyes were wide, staring at you like you were some god.

Oh god, Heeseung Lee was hopeless.

"Heeseung-hyung, are you free tomorrow?"

It was lunch time. Heeseung and his friends liked to hang around the rooftop of the school, because it was always empty. And plus, no one wanted to be where Heeseung and his friends were— they were too scary!

Heeseung looked at his younger Australian friend, Jake Sim (or Jaeyun Sim, as his official documents stated), who had just asked that question. Heeseung took a bite of the instant ramen that they bought from the vending machine.

"Yeah, why?"

"Good. Because you have a date with [Name] tomorrow."

Heeseung choked. As he coughed, his other younger friend, Sunoo Kim, let out a whine.

"Hyuuunggg!" Sunoo pouted. "Why'd you tell him?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise!" Riki Nishimura, the group's Japanese foreign exchange student friend, added, elbowing Jake in the ribs.

"Whatever," Jake crossed his arms. When Riki nudged him again, Jake opened his mouth to holler, "Jay, back me up!"

Jongseong "Jay" Park was another one of Heeseung's friends, probably the closest person to him. 

"You guys know Heeseung-hyung is going to fuck it up either way, right?" Jay said. "Remember last time?"

"Yeah," Sunghoon Park joined in. "No matter how much we prepared him, Heeseung-hyung still acted like a fucking idiot."

"I'm right here!" Heeseung shouted, still hitting his chest to dislodge the ramen that he choked on. 

Jungwon Yang, the seventh person in their friend group, put a hand on the older boy's shoulder, his lips lifting up into a half-teasing grin, revealing sharp canine teeth, "Hyung, don't listen to them. I think you'll really impress [Name] tomorrow."

It was Heeseung's turn to elbow Jungwon in the ribs.

When Heeseung finally finished coughing up a storm, his friends were already onto another topic, making plans for the next weekend.

"Hey, hey!" Heeseung grumbled. "Aren't you guys going to explain this so-called 'date with [Name]'?"

"What's there to explain?" Riki said. "You're going on a date with [Name]. End of story."

The eldest of the group's face contorted. "What are you guys even saying—"

"Well, it's not technically a date," Sunghoon said, taking a sip of his juice box. "You're, like, hanging out with [Name] though."

That still didn't answer Heeseung's question. 

"When? Where? What time?" he spluttered, eager for answers.

Jake huffed exasperatedly. "Do we have to explain to you everything? It's not that deep, man."

Jungwon rolled his eyes. "Hyung, [Name]'s friends are the presidents of the Environment and Ecology Club, and there's a social tomorrow. It's like birdhouse painting, or something. [Name] is attending to support her friend, so we signed you up, too."

"Birdhouse painting?!" Sunoo's features morphed into confusion. "I thought they were making bracelets?"

"No, I thought there were weaving baskets?" Riki frowned.

"Whatever it is, it sounds lame as hell," Jay remarked.

Jungwon rolled his eyes again, earning a punch on his arm. "Whatever it is, it'll be a great opportunity for you to talk to [Name]." 

The younger boy offered Heeseung a reassuring smile, only to receive a pensive one in return.

When classes resumed, Heeseung felt light-headed and distracted the entire time as he processed the fact that he was going to be around you tomorrow.

Oh god, he sounded like a total loser. Did the mere thought of being in your presence make him nervous? Yes, yes it did. You were just so pretty and sweet, he had no idea what to do. Poor boy, his teeth dug into his bottom lip, clammy palms pressing into the underside of his desk. His knee bounced, and there was absolutely no way that he could even make out a single word the teacher was saying.

Heeseung was going to pass out. 

"Hey, Heeseung?"

That's your voice. It was so pretty and nice on his ears. Was he in heaven? He wouldn't be surprised if your voice was the voice of an angel.

"Heeseung?"

Heeseung was convinced that he was in heaven now. What he wouldn't do to hear your voice every second of his life.

"Heeseung!" another voice interjected. That's what snapped Heeseung out of his daze. Too deep in his head, Heeseung hadn't noticed that the class period ended, and the short passing period had already begun.

At his desk stood Yunjin Huh, Minjeong "Winter" Kim, and... oh my god... you. The three of you had somewhat matching Halloween costumes: Yunjin was a gray mouse, Winter was a cat, and you were a bunny. And now that he looked at it, you all were holding a bag of candy.

While your two friends were giving him the"Are you serious?" looks, you looked at him with wide, kind eyes.

"Heeseung?" your beautiful voice said, fingers reaching into the candy bag that you were holding. "Would you like candy?"

He stared at you. You were giving out candy to everyone in class because it was Halloween... You're such an angel... What did the world do to deserve you...

Winter stepped on Heeseung's foot, snapping him out of his daze once again. The boy let out a small yelp in pain, and as the embarrassment settled in, he heard you let out a small giggle, lips raising up to show off your teeth.

Oh my god, he was going to die.

"Y-Yeah," he stammered out, cursing himself internally. Heeseung couldn't help but feel everyone in class's gaze glued to him. When you handed him a piece of candy, your hand brushed up against his. Heeseung could feel his ears becoming hot, the warmth rising to his neck.

You smiled at him, before saying in a sing-songy voice, "Happy Halloween!"

Heeseung had to force himself not to stare like an absolute fool.

He was really hopeless.

hee: jay i don't think i can do it tomorrow

It was 2AM when Heeseung texted Jay. He spent the entire night thinking about the "date" (probably the least necessary word at the moment), and he simply couldn't sleep.

Heeseung had embarrassed himself too many times in front of you. Like that one time you and him were on cleaning duty together, and he was so distracted by you that he tripped over a bucket of water. Or that one time he sat next to you for a few weeks and his shoes kept squeaking against the floor, making it look like he was farting. Or when he tried to look cool and suave in front of you at some social your friends invited him to only to rip a hole in his pants. And then what happened today... He could not embarrass himself again.

hee: like i think i'm going to die if she sits next to me tomorrow

It was only a matter of seconds when his friend texted back.

jay: you'll be fine trust

Heeseung frowned.

hee: stop lying to me

hee: you know how i am around her

jay: i believe in you

jay: like srsly

hee: that's blind faith

Jay typed for a little bit, before stopping altogether. Heeseung huffed. Did his friend just leave him on read? A few minutes later Jay sent a Wikihow article.

'How to talk to your crush,' it was aptly named. Heeseung deadpanned.

hee: are you being fr right now

jay: give [name] your sexy heeseung charm and you'll be walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her in no time

jay: read the article btw

How was this guy an actual person?

hee: kill yourself

jay: give her that passionate, sexy, boiling hot, hotter-than-the-sun, steaming hot heeseung that makes her just want to come up to you and give you the fattest, juiciest kiss on the mouth, i know you can do it soldier

hee: DIE

Heeseung couldn't sleep all night.

At school, the entire day was just plagued with anxiety for what was to come. It didn't help that your friends kept turning around and giving him knowing looks throughout the day. When school finally let out, Heeseung went to the classroom where the birdhouse-painting-bracelet-making-basket-weaving social would be held. His friends told him to go there the moment that school ended, but when he came, there was literally no one there.

Until someone yanked him into the classroom.

"Hey!-" he yelped, before the door slammed. In front of him stood two people that he recognized: Sumin Bae and Sieun Park, two of your friends who also coincidentally were the co-presidents of the Environment and Ecology club.

Sumin cocked a brow at him, crossing her arms. "I hope you're not as hopeless as everyone says you are."

Heeseung opened his mouth to respond, but Sieun cut him off.

"Ugh, that doesn't matter," she pinched her nose-bridge. "We told [Name] to sit near the front, so you better sit there, too."

"Right-" 

Sumin cut him off, too.

"[Name]'s favorite color is pink, and her favorite Sanrio character is Keroppi," Sumin asserted. "And she really likes things that are cute, so like fruit patterns, hearts, stars, yada yada."

Heeseung blinked at them. "And this is relevant how...?"

Sumin and Sieun shared a look.

"You are completely hopeless."

As it turned out, they were giving him details about design-elements that you liked, so that Heeseung could somehow impress you with his birdhouse painting abilities (Jungwon was right, it was birdhouse painting). After info-dumping on him, they kicked him out of the classroom to actually prepare for the social.

As Heeseung was pushed out of the classroom, he bumped into someone. Just as he was about to say, "Watch where you're going," he realized that it was you. 

"Oh, hi, Heeseung!" you greet him cheerfully, your eyes pressing into thin slits as you smile. 

Quick! What does he do? "Hi... [Name]."

"Are you here for the social, too?" The way your eyes gazed at him made him feel shy already.

"Y-Yeah...."

"I didn't know you were interested in the Environment and Ecology club..." You remarked, and Heeseung panicked— Was it obvious that he was here exclusively for you?— but what you said next made him sigh in relief. "That's great! I'm so happy that I finally have someone familiar with me here!"

He's going to faint.

When the social began, you invited him to sit next to you. Heeseung felt stiff as he sat beside you, watching the way that you happily painted your small, wooden birdhouse. Heeseung wanted to start a conversation with you, but each time he thought of something to say, his voice caught in his throat. Sumin and Sieun had given him two dirty looks already, so he needed to make a move now or their efforts would be in vain.

"W-What's that?" he finally stuttered out, pointing to the glob of green on your birdhouse. 

You laugh airily, leaning closer to him so that he can see it better. "Can you guess?"

Heeseung tries to concentrate on guessing, but it's hard when you're close to him. Quick! What's green and something that you like?

"Is that... K-Keroppi?"

"Yeah!" Your face lit up, flashing him a cheeky grin. You nudged him with your elbow, raising your brows at him playfully. "Awww, Hee, you smarty pants! How'd you know?"

Hee?

OhmygodohmygodohmygodyoucalledhimHee.

You stopped laughing, pulling away from him. "Sorry, do you not like being called Hee? Beomgyu sometimes calls you that, so I thought-"

"No, I like it!" Heeseung blurted, a little louder than he wanted to, earning a few questioning looks from people around him. The boy felt abnormally warm, embarrassed at his outburst. "I-I'm okay with you calling me that..."

"Noted!" you said, before your lips curled upward. "Now... are you going to tell me how you could tell that this green blob was Keroppi?"

"Oh uhm..." Heeseung's lips were moving faster than his head, "Y-You dressed up as Keroppi last year for Halloween with Yunjin."

Almost like you were a cartoon character, you perked up at his statement. "You remember?"

Of course he did. How could he forget? You wore a cartoonishly-big red bow around your neck like Keroppi, and had a green Keroppi-style headband. You looked adorable, especially when you went around showing off a Keroppi keychain that you got at the Cinnamoroll Cafe in Hongdae to anyone that was willing to listen.

Heeseung found himself chuckling. "Of course I'd remember your massive red bow."

You stared at him for a few moments, before a bashful grin broke out on your face. You then buried your face in your hands, letting out a groan. "Ughhhh, that's so embarrassing!"

"How?"

It's going good so far, Heeseung thought. Just don't mess it up!

You pouted cutely, your bottom lip jutting out. In the light, he could see the gloss shining off of it so prettily. "My makeup was so fucked up last year, ughhh, it looked so bad."

You? Look bad? Impossible.

"What are you talking about?" Heeseung asked, his doe-like eyes scanning your embarrassed face. "I thought you looked cute."

You stared at him. It took a few pulses for Heeseung to realize what he just said. His face instantly turned three shades warmer and panic was evident in his expression.

"I-I mean— You jus—You were really—"

He shut his mouth when you began laughing. Laughing so hard that you clutched onto his knee, keeling over yourself. His cheeks burned.

You're laughing at him, aren't you? Did he fuck up?

When you noticed the sulky expression on his face, you stopped laughing.

"Sorry, Hee," you said, giving his knee a reassuring squeeze. "It's just... You look so intimidating, when you're really just a sweetheart."

If Heeseung was red before, he was quietly literally the color of a tomato. It was a wonder that the entire room’s temperature didn’t rise given the sheer amount of heat radiating off his person.

"A s-sweetheart?"

"Yeah!" you happily respond. "You're just the cutest, y'know? Like a little puppy."

As much as Heeseung wanted to die happily now that you called him cute, he needed to keep this conversation going. Sucking in a sharp breath, the boy looked at you in the eyes. "W-Well I think the same about you... [Name]."

You looked at him curiously, so he continued, his voice soft and sheepish, "I... also think that you're the cutest."

You blinked at him a few times, before the widest smile that he'd ever seen spread across your cheeks, stretching ear to ear. If only Heeseung wasn't too busy grappling with his shyness, he'd notice the way you let out a soft, bashful giggle, shaking your head and squeezing your eyes shut to keep yourself from being too visibly flustered. Slowly, with all the courage that you had left in you, you raised your hand and placed it on Heeseung's head. You ruffled his soft locks, gushing, "God, you're so cute, Heeseung!"

The rest of the social is filled with soft chatter between the two of you, but Heeseung was honestly too captivated by you to notice the time passing. With his heart on his sleeve, and a sloppily-painted birdhouse in his hands, Heeseung mentally high-fived himself.

Heeseung's friends never heard the end of it. The moment that he got home, Heeseung spammed their groupchat, giving them paragraphs and paragraphs of the events that ensued.

hee: and then she called me cute. like CUTE CUTE, not even like she was alluding it, she used the word CUTE

hee: oh my god i think i'm gonna faint

His friends don't have it in them to flame him. After all, this was progress.

Unbeknownst to him, you were feeling the same things. Everyone knew that Heeseung liked you, except yourself. You had the opposite case: you've had the biggest crush on Heeseung since middle school, but never told a single soul about it. You're a naturally expressive and sweet person, so it was so incredibly hard hiding your feelings for him. 

After all, under that handsome and brooding outer shell, you saw his softness. This past year, you've had so many miscellaneous interactions (at least, it seemed miscellaneous-- everyone but you knew that those interactions were set up) with Heeseung. At the beginning of each interaction, he'd act all mysterious, but as time passed, he'd speak so softly and slowly unravel. 

It was so, so cute. Heeseung was so cute. To say you wanted him would be an understatement. No words were sufficient to fully express the nights that you stayed awake thinking about him, or the makeup looks that you intricately practiced to impress him, or the sheer number of times that you had to hide the fact that you were staring at him.

Maybe you couldn't hide it any longer.

"Wait, what?!"

Heeseung's heart dropped to his stomach the moment he heard the words leave his friend's lips. Chenle Zhong was one of you and Heeseung's mutual friends, and according to him, someone had confessed to you via a letter today.

"Are you serious?" Heeseung asked, pulling his bottom lip into his teeth, chewing pensively. "Do you know who wrote it?"

"Nope, but I'll try to get more info on it," Chenle frowned. "Yunjin says that [Name] laughed at the letter."

When Heeseung didn't say anything, Chenle continued. "Hey, man, that could be a sign, y'know?"

When Heeseung's face morphed into a confused expression, his friend added, "Like, maybe [Name] thinks it's a joke? Maybe she doesn't care for it."

That's what Heeseung hoped for.

Later, Chenle texted him a screenshot of the love letter. To say that Heeseung was appalled would be an understatement. The letter read,

'To my dearest [Name], you're as beautiful as the plum blossoms in the spring. Your lips are soft like pillows, pillows that I would love to fall into an eternal in. I love you, I love you, I'll love you until this paper decomposes and becomes a part of the earth, and maybe then they will be able to force me to forget you. Love, your admirer.'

Heeseung immediately sent it to his groupchat.

jakey: yo who invited shakespeare???

hoon: i had a stroke reading that

sunoo: "your lips are soft like pillows" is crazyyy

hee: chenle gave me updates, apparently [name] knows who the sender is

jay: AND WHO IS THE SENDER??

hee: i don't know

hee: but minjeong says that it's someone from class 2

niki: class 2 is full of snobs

jungwon: i'm still in shock because of "i'll love you until this paper decomposes"

hoon: WHAT IF IT'S JUNGSU HYUNG

niki: oh it's SO over for you heeseung-hyung

As it turned out, it was not, in fact, Jungsu Kim from Class 2, thanks to your friends, who were quite wonderful info-brokers. But he still didn't know who it was.

Laying in bed, Heeseung felt weight on his chest. You laughed at the letter. While that could mean that it was a joke, it could also mean that you thought the person writing the letter was funny... which could mean that you liked them back. Just the mere thought of you with someone else made Heeseung frown deeply. This entire time he was worried about how to act around you, completely ignoring the fact that you yourself could be interested in someone else! God, he was so stupid.

Heeseung needed to know who it was that sent it, and more importantly, if you were romantically interested in them.

Fear makes man do crazy things.

Like walking one's crush to school.

Look, Heeseung was mulling over the situation as he walked to school, when he saw you across the street, walking in the same direction as him. In what could only be called an adrenaline-high, Heeseung ran across the street up to you.

"[Name]!" he called out.

"Heeseung?—Oh my god!"

Poor boy was breathless, flushed in the face. It took him a few moments to catch his breath. Flashing you a grin, Heeseung said, "Let's walk to school together, [Name]."

You're silent for a few moments, before you return the smile. "Of course."

The walk was silent, only the sound of early morning traffic, footsteps against the concrete sidewalk, and the occasional sniffle courtesy of you filling the cold air between the two of you. Speaking of which, your sniffles began to get louder and more frequent. Now out of adrenaline, Heeseung was back to being shy.

Clearing his throat, Heeseung forced his voice out. "Are you— Are you sick?"

You sniffled again, bringing your hand up to swipe your nose. The two of you were at an intersection now, so you pressed the pedestrian button. "No, I just get sniffly when it's cold."

That's. So. Cute. Was what Heeseung was thinking. The way you were rubbing your hands together made you look so adorable, he just wanted to put you in his pocket. 

He must have been staring at you for a while, back in his you-loving daze, because Heeseung did not notice that the streetlight changed, and it was time for the pedestrians to pass.

Not to worry!

Heeseung was completely kicked out of his daze when your smaller hand grabbed his, pulling him along the street. His eyes were glued to the two of your hands, especially where they connected. For someone sniffly, your hands were warm. He liked the way that they fit in his.

Even in the cool morning air, Heeseung suddenly felt warm all over.

You were in the middle of the sidewalk when Heeseung stopped. Feeling bold, he dropped his schoolbag, and began slipping off his thick, black, leather jacket, before draping it over your shoulders. 

When you looked up at him with those curious doe eyes, all his boldness went away.

"Y-You're cold aren't you?" He avoided looking you in the eyes. "Just... Just take it. Y-You can give it back later... or whatever."

You giggled, slipping your arms into the sleeves.

God, you looked so cute in his jacket. Heeseung was going to melt.

And he did melt, because you began doing cute twirls to show off the jacket, posing for him.

"How do I look?" you cheekily asked, popping your leg up. 

Heeseung was speechless, his mouth just left agape. He had to force himself to speak.

"Cute..." he answered, barely audible.

A grin was growing on your face. "Sorry, I didn't hear you. How do I look?"

Heeseung squeezed his eyes shut, huffing. "I said you looked cute!"

The sight of Heeseung's pink cheeks and his cute little pout was enough for you to be satisfied. Before the boy could realize what he said, you picked up his school bag for him, shoving it into one of his hands, before snatching his free hand. You pulled him gently to continue walking, but Heeseung was frozen in place, eyes too busy on you.

"Heeeeee," you elongated your syllables. You squeezed his hand twice, tugging him again. "We can't be late to class, can we?"

Heeseung audibly gulped. "Y-Yeah. You're right.."

You guys began walking again, neither of you wanting to let each other’s hands go.

"And then she held my hand— Isn't that crazy?! She held my hand!"

"Heeseung-hyung, please, I am peeing right now."

It was the lunch period once again. As Heeseung and Sunghoon traversed the hallways to get to the stairwell, the older of two chatted about the events that morning.

"So you held her hand?" Sunghoon asked half-heartedly, barely listening. "And then what?"

Heeseung perked up. "And then we walked to class together, and then she—"

"That's cool and all," the younger friend was walking in front of him. Sunghoon turned over his shoulder. "But did you get any more information about the letter fiasco?"

Oh. 

No, Heeseung didn't.

When they reached the rooftop, his friends gently nudged him to get more information about the letter. 

"You don't want to have one of those 'too late' moments, right?" Jungwon said, chewing on his rice ball. "What if by the time you gather the courage to talk to her, [Name] is already walking off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her secret admirer?!"

"What's with you guys and walking off into the sunset..." Heeseung muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

"I'm serious, hyung!"

"I second that," Jay said lazily.

"I second that," Riki mocked in a squeaky voice, earning him a soft smack at the back of his head.

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Heeseung asked, frustrated. "I can talk to her or her friends later, but not right now."

Jake scoffed. "What's stopping you from going back inside and talking to [Name] right now?"

The eldest boy didn't have an answer. That's true. There wasn't anything stopping Heeseung from talking to you right now. All the boys were now watching him for an answer, ready to pounce on him for being a coward.

"I don't know!" Heeseung finally said. "I've used up all of my bravery today... I don't think I have it in me to talk to her!"

His friends stared at him questioningly, until the silence was broken by Sunoo taking a loud and very obviously fake phonecall.

"Hi! Yes! Mhm. He's right here. Yeah. Mhm. Thank you!"

Sunoo hung up loudly, and looked at Heeseung with a cocked brow. "I was just on the phone with Yunjin. She says you should probably go talk to [Name]."

Heeseung looked at Sunoo incredulously, but the expectant expressions on his friends' faces made him groan.

"Fine!"

As Heeseung creeped down the school hallway, he came to the classroom that you hung out in at lunch: your homeroom. Standing outside the door, the boy took a deep breath.

Relax, it's just [Name], he had to tell himself, as if that helped at all. What was he even going to say? 

'Hey, are you dating the person that sent you that letter? If you aren't, do you want to get married to me? Haha.'

????

Just as Heeseung was about to slide the door open, he heard a very familiar laugh from inside. Of course he could recognize it. After all, it was you. 

"Yuri is so cute!" he heard you giggle. "She wrote me that little letter as a joke, but I think I'm actually in love with her."

In.

Love.

With.

Her.

"Awww, Yuri, come here and give me a kiss!"

Come.

Give.

You.

A.

Kiss.

"I'm gonna marry you, Yuri!"

Marry.

You.

Yuri.

To Heeseung, everyone was an enemy. No matter their gender or class, the moment that he heard that you got a love letter, everyone became a suspect. It all made sense now. Yuri Jo, the 'Yuri' that you were talking about and to, was from Class 2. He knew that you and her were friends, but he didn't know that you were romantically interested in her. 

Jungwon was right. Now you were going to walk off into the sunset hand-in-hand with her!

hee: guys what if [name] is already taken :(

jakey: what are you on about this time

There was something scary about a 6-feet tall guy mulling around and sulking all day, so luckily no one got in Heeseung's way as he brooded. Unfortunately, he felt his heart hurt whenever he looked at you. Almost cartoonishly, he'd turn away, close his eyes in dramatic pain, and pout. Although he acted a little bit theatrical, it was no doubt that Heeseung felt sad. He really thought he had a chance with you, and now he felt stupid.

Except, he was stupid.

But for a different reason.

"Jesus Christ, you're actually hopeless, Heeseung."

After school, your friends cornered him, somewhere where you wouldn't see. His friends were somehow in close communication with your friends.

"I can't believe you thought me and [Name] were actually dating!"

Heeseung scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, as he leaned against a locker. Before him stood Yunjin, Winter, Yuri, along with a few other of your friends, Hitomi and Minju. 

"I don't know!" Heeseung huffed. "Everyone is an enemy to me—” he glanced at Yuri— “Including Yuri.”

Yunjin scoffed in disbelief. "You're insane."

Soooo... You weren't in any romantic relationship with anyone. Yuri sent you that letter as a joke, and you were just really close to her. Good.

"I don't know how I feel about this guy getting with our [Name]," Winter muttered to Hitomi and Minju, but loud enough for Heeseung to hear.

"Hey!"

"I know, he's a total dumbass," Minju grumbled back.

"Dude, I'm right here!"

Hitomi rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Well, are you free on Friday after school?"

"Yeah, why?" They always asked Heeseung that question when they had some crazy plan up their sleeve. Not like he was any better.

"Wellll," Hitomi began in a sing-songy voice. "[Name] really wants to go to that Cinnamoroll Sweet Cafe in Hongdae on Friday, but none of us are available."

Heeseung nodded slowly. 

"I think it'd be a good way for you to get closer to her, dontcha think?"

And that's how Heeseung scored his first (unofficial) date with you

When your friends told you that Heeseung would accompany you to Hongdae, you almost jumped for joy. Almost. Friday couldn't come any faster. The plan was that you'd meet Heeseung at the train station at 4:30PM, meaning that you had a bit of time to change and get ready. You didn't want to get too ahead of yourself and call it a date, but oh boy did you want to.

What were you going to wear? What if you were too formal? Should you go for a casual look or something more put-together? You needed to impress him!

When Friday came, you practically ran home to get ready. You perfected your makeup, and put on your prettiest outfit. Spraying yourself with your signature perfume, you looked in the mirror. Hopefully, he'll like how you look. 

At the corner of your eye, you spot a black, leather jacket. His black, leather jacket. Without even thinking, you slinked toward it, slipping into the jacket. It smelled like him, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on the leather.

With a final glance in the mirror, you left for the train station.

On the other hand, to say that Heeseung was nervous for the date was an understatement. His heart was about to fall out of chest. He changed into something more casual, made sure to brush out his disheveled hair, and reapplied his cologne. He came to the train station 20 minutes early, just in case something went terribly wrong. He glanced at his phone. For the date, he managed to get a hold of your number, for “communication purposes.” He’d wanted to text you all week, but didn’t have the courage to.

“Hee?” your soft voice calling his name got his attention. Behold, you standing there before him, all dolled up and pretty. This must be the sight he’ll see when he enters heaven, he thought. 

“Hi,” he said, his eyes glazing over your face. You were so pretty. Did you dress up for him? He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but the idea that you wanted to look good for him made Heeseung’s heart skip a beat. “You look…”

He didn’t mean to say that. You smile bashfully. “I look…?”

“So pretty,” Heeseung breathed. “You look so pretty.”

“Thank you,” you smile. Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt, playing with it, which sends his heart racing. “Well, I think you look handsome, Hee.”

“Th-Thanks.”

The two of you stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments, and Heeseung swears that you’re looking at his lips. You spoke up, breaking the silence. “You notice anything about me?”

Heeseung grasped the collar of his jacket gently with both hands. “My jacket.”

“I was going to give it back to you earlier,” you begin, eyes trained on his lips, “But I think I’ll keep it for today, yeah? Since I look so pretty in it.”

“Oh fuck,” Heeseung cursed under his breath, loud enough for you to hear it and giggle. “Yeah, you can keep it for as long as you want.”

“As long as I want?” you purred, taking a step closer to him. Although it wasn’t clear to anyone else, you were a mess inside. Your heart was palpitating so hard that you could hear it in your ears. Your throat felt dry, and your hands were shaking with mere anxiety and excitement. “What about forever?”

Heeseung cracked a grin. “Do whatever you want. You’re pretty.”

If it wasn’t for the train announcement, you thought you would have kissed his pretty lips right then and there. Taking Heeseung’s hand, you led him to your train cart. 

“Let’s go, Hee.”

The train is much more packed than you expected, but it was the beginning of the weekend after all. The trip from Gyeonggi Province to Hongdae should take no less than an hour. Unfortunately, because of the amount of people in the train, you and Heeseung had to stand for the majority of the time. It should have been uncomfortable, but it simply wasn't. Because you were with Heeseung.

Standing only a few inches away from the boy, your chests almost pressed against each other. You could feel his breath fan your cheeks. The both of you held onto the pole, hands barely brushing against each other when the cart shook against the rails. 

At some point, the shaking was a lot more aggressive than it had previously been. Instinctively, your hand reached for his broad shoulders for stability. Likewise, Heeseung reached for your waist, holding you in place. You and Heeseung shared a long, drawn-out look, eyes getting lost in one another's, before you both avert your gazes shyly, muttering, "sorry." Yet, neither of you moved your hands from their newfound positions.

As minutes passed on the train, your eyes were glued to Heeseung, at least when he wasn't watching. 

You loved the reddish blush that naturally decorated his under-eyes, and the natural corally red at tinted the tip of his ears. His glossy eyes and heart-shaped lips had to be your favorite feature of his, if not for his large, yet delicate hands, so gentle and soft.

You were deep in thought when you suddenly felt a hand creeping on your leg. Nimble fingers from behind, brushing up against the hem of your dress. From the corner of your eye, you saw an older man. He looked unkempt and scruffy, like a delinquent– but nothing like Heeseung. Heeseung looked much better than him.

The man reeked of cigarettes and musk. A nasty grin spread across his face as he peered down at your exposed legs. His hands creeped toward them again, now slightly pushing your dress up. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your entire body stiffening. Your heart began to pound in your chest, your cheeks and skin feeling hot. 

Panic overtook your system. Your once soft breaths became much shorter and quicker, inhaling and exhaling shallow air.

You’ve never been in a situation like this; you’d  never wished, thought, or even considered something like this happening to you– why would you? You had no idea what to do, and were not at all prepared for this. The train was packed to the brim, this man was much bigger and stronger than you, and you did not know how to fight.

The hand moved past your skirt, now under it and directly in contact with your skin. The hand felt dirty, brushing against you. A small frantic whimper escaped your lips when the man’s hand squeezed your bare thigh. It was a small sound, barely audible in the vast bustle of the subway. However, someone did hear it.

Heeseung, doe-eyed and lost in his own world, immediately darted his eyes over to you the moment he heard a sound of discomfort. 

When your eyes met, you could only signal helplessly. Your gaze was wide, pupils dilated, with fear and panic. Heeseung’s eyes narrowed, staring into your eyes for a moment before analyzing your expression. The way you were extremely tense and overwrought casted a sense of suspicion in his head, and your eyes that were seemingly pleading him made him think.

Help, your eyes said.

Heeseung’s dark eyes flickered from your face, to your entire body language, and back to your face, before he spotted a few, foreign fingers creeping around your leg area.

Your shifty eyes kept moving from Heeseung’s to the side, but now that he looked at it, it was like they were pointing behind you. And lo and behold, behind you was a musky pervert, who was shamelessly touching you.

“[Name]…” he whispered. His fists clenched, teeth gritting. He sucked in a deep breath, feeling anger build up in his stomach. You whimpered again in response. He brought a hand to ghost over your shoulder, pushing you very, very, gently to the side. “Move.”

He wound up his fist and sent the hardest punch he could muster to the man square in the jaw.

The man lurched back immediately, his hand moving far, far, away from you. A groan left his lips, his head being thrown back in pain. The man’s fall had pushed a few other people down as well. Other bystanders watched on in shock. Some took out their phones to record and take pictures, others to tell their friends.

You just stood still, leaning into Heeseung, whose fist was a faint red color. With a very careful hand, he brushed the lifted hem of your dress down, which had been messed with earlier.

The man quickly got up once he noticed the new and tense silence over the subway cart.

“Hey!” he shouted, pushing himself up from his downtrodden position. “You little punk, who the fuck do you think you-”

The train announcer called for the stop. Heeseung, ignoring the man, took your arm, pulling you out the door. Before he himself left, Heeseung landed a kick to the man’s crotch, muttering, “Fucking bastard.”

"W-Wait, Hee-!"

Heeseung was silent as the train doors opened, only pulling you along with him. When the two of you were far from the train, he finally stopped, turning to you.

"Are you okay?" was all he asked. You shifted uncomfortably at the thought of what happened earlier.

"Y-Yeah..." you played with the hem of his jacket sheepishly. "Thanks for what you did back there."

Heeseung jolted up at the mention. He didn't love using violence, despite his 'delinquent' reputation, especially in front of you. His hands joined yours at the hem of his jacket, shyly brushing up against yours. 

"Next time," he began, beginning to play with the zipper, "I'll fight every person on that train so that you can sit."

You smiled softly. "You don't have to do that, Hee."

Heeseung slowly zipped up his jacket on you, meeting your eyes, before straightening out your collar. 

"But I want to," he breathed. You gazed at him. His hands were still on the collar of the jacket, close to your face. You noticed the red smudges on his knuckles from punching the man on the train. You took that hand, opening it up, and nuzzling your cheek into it. You took his other hand. To Heeseung's surprise, you pressed soft kisses on his knuckles, rubbing them with your thumb.

"What are you..." his breath hitched when your eyes flickered to his, holding steady eye-contact. 

You pressed one last kiss on his palm. "Thank you, Hee. Really."

"Of course, [Name]," he finally whispered. "Anything for you."

And so, your first date with Heeseung began.

The sweet scent of cinnamon and pastries hit your noses the moment you guys stepped into the Cinnamoroll Cafe. When you were seated, you took a look at the menu. So far, the date was going smoothly. Other than the run-in at the beginning, the chemistry between the two of you was sparking. The conversation was flowing, and if that already wasn't a dream come true, you kept touching Heeseung. On your end, you were practically vibrating in your seat with the sheer amount of excitement you had bubbling in you. You couldn't believe you were on a date with the Heeseung Lee sharing a strawberry banana parfait. 

"Hee," you said, motioning him to come closer to you. He did, so you cupped his cheek, bringing your thumb up to wipe a stray piece of the parfait from his cheek. 

"Oh-" Heeseung's face reddened. How embarrassing! Did you think he was a slob now? You only giggled, bringing both hands up to hold his face. You squished the boy's cheeks, laughing at the way his brows cutely crashed into each other.

"You're so cute, Hee," you said, playing with his cheeks. "The cutest."

That's all you, he thought. You're going to drive him crazy.

Or, at least he thought he thought.

Did he just say that out loud? Heeseung groaned when you threw your head back laughing, hiding his own face in your palms. You chuckled.

Feeling bold, you cupped his cheeks again. You leaned closer, holding his face close to yours. You kissed a soft and chaste kiss on his nose. You couldn't help the heat that rose to your cheeks as the boy flopped over the table, hiding his face in his arms. You ran your fingers through his hair comfortingly, cooing at his cuteness.

"You can't do this to me," Heeseung murmured.

You laughed. It wouldn't hurt to tease him a little more, right? You leaned down, giving the boy another kiss. This time, though, you kissed the top of his head.

"Hee, baby, you're just the cutest, you know that right?"

Heeseung combusted.

After the Cafe, Heeseung and you walked around the Hongdae Festival Street. By now, it was beginning to get darker outside, the air cooling down. It was cold, but to Heeseung, it was perfect, because now he had an excuse to hold your hand. As the two of you walked and talked, you enjoyed the sight of the lights and bustling street. 

Suddenly, a new voice interrupted the two of you's conversation. Turning around, you saw two guys who looked around your age. They were holding a camera and a microphone.

"Hi!" they said, smiling. "We're interviewing couples in Hongdae, would you guys like to be in it? We’ll blur your faces."

Heeseung glanced your joined hands, then back at the two guys, then back at your hands, "O-Oh, we're not a coupl—"

You cut him off. "Of course, we'd love to!"

You flashed Heeseung a grin, squeezing his hand twice, almost as if to say, 'Just go with it.' His ears began to burn, his neck prickling with warmth, before clearing his throat. "Y-Yeah..." he squeezed your hand, "We'd love to."

The two guys cheered, turning on their camera. "All right, first question. How did you guys meet?"

"We went to middle school together," you were quick to answer. "I thought he was really cute, but we didn't start talking until this year."

You didn't know what the fuck you were saying. Was it risky to be so truthful for an internet interview, right in front of your long-time crush? Absolutely. But your heart was pounding so hard in your chest, simply waiting for Heeseung's response.

On the other hand, Heeseung's mind was in complete shambles. Were you telling the truth? The way you answered so smoothly with absolutely no hesitation made it almost seem natural.

"And you?" the interviewer asked. "What did you think about her when you first met?"

"I—" Heeseung's breath hitched. "I thought she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen."

The way you glanced at him made Heeseung's heart feel like it was about to fall out. "I.. I still think that."

Your expression was unreadable, your lips pressing into a thin line. Then, a huge smile broke out on your face.

"Awww, Heeeee! I didn't know you thought about me like that!" You squeezed his hand again, and he squeezed it back.

"How long have you guys been together?" the interviewer asked.

"We just started dating!" You answered enthusiastically, a weird, surprised sound coming from Heeseung.

The rest of the interview went smoothly, with you mostly answering the questions. You quietly thanked the interviewers, and you and Heeseung were on your way.

Your words kept ringing in Heeseung's head.

Especially your answer to the question, "Why did you like him?"

You answered, "Because he's so perfect."

Heeseung? Perfect? He couldn't believe his ears! Were you telling the truth?

A calm silence fell over you and Heeseung as you walked the bustling streets of Hongdae. That question lingered in his mind, and before he knew it, his mouth was moving faster than his mind.

"Did you mean anything you said?"

His voice seemed to reverberate against the night air, ringing in his ears. You chewed on your lip. Then, you sucked in a sharp breath.

"Of course, Hee," you finally answered. "If it's you, I mean everything."

Heeseung sucked his bottom lip into his teeth, biting down so hard he drew blood. Once again, his hands found home on the hem of his jacket draped over you. 

"Good." He couldn't meet your eyes, not with the knowledge that you meant everything you said. He forced his attention onto the hem of the leather jacket that you were wearing, too shy to look at you. 

Heeseung only looked up when he felt your thumb pressing against his lip, eyes widening.

"Don't bite your lip too hard, Hee," you said, a smile in your voice. You thumb swiped against his lip, wiping off the small blotch of blood on it. "You'll bleed, and I'll have to kiss it better."

Heeseung's tongue darted out to swipe over his bleeding lip, brushing against your thumb. "What if I want you to kiss it better?"

"Well, then you better not keep me waiting."

His eyes flickered to your lips. He wanted to kiss them so bad. They looked so soft. What would they taste like? You liked strawberries— maybe they'd taste like that. When he didn't say or do anything, you changed the topic, unable to hide the disappointment in your face.

"Did you mean it?" You asked. "When you said that I was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen?"

"Oh my god, yes," Heeseung said under his breath, eyes still trained on your lips. "Always."

Another silence fell of you two, simply getting lost in each other's eyes. Maybe it was something in the Hongdae air, but Heeseung felt brave. His hand slithered to your waist, bringing you closer to him. When you slid your hands up his chest, resting them on his shoulders, Heeseung audibly gulped. Your faces inched closer and closer, until you could feel his breath against your cheek. You wanted to lean in and close the gap so bad. And you could tell that he wanted to, too.

Just as you were about to, however, the sound of a car honking and tires screeching interrupted you. Heeseung instinctively pulled away, his head whipping around to look at the commotion.

Oh hell no.

You were not going to let that stop you.

You snatched Heeseung's hand, before pulling him with you. You don't know how much you ran, or for how long, but you ran and ran until you found an empty alleyway.

You pushed him against the hard, concrete wall, a bit harsher than you expected too. Holding him by his shoulders, you put all your weight on him, caging him against the wall.

"You'd let me kiss you, right?" you rasped, out of breath.

Heeseung, also breathless, stared at you, lips parted. 

"I thought I already said," he breathed, "Do whatever you want. You're pretty."

With that, you crashed your lips onto his. His lips were soft, a little chapped. It felt so surreal. The scent of his cologne made you feel dizzy. When you pulled away, it was evident that he was feeling the same as you were. 

It was a chaste kiss, but the tension was so thick in the air. Somehow, that made it even more intimate.

"Wow..." was all Heeseung could utter. Under the moonlight, with you pressed up against him, you looked so goddamn pretty. Your face was illuminated with the pale light, making you look like an angel. Was he in heaven? Did he die yet? He wouldn't mind if he died right then and there, now that you (you!) kissed him. "Fuck, you're gonna kill me, [Name]."

"But you'd like it, right? Because I'm so pretty." The teasing tone in your voice would normally make Heeseung melt, but all he could do was grin. 

"You know I would."

The rest of the night, you and Heeseung don't kiss anymore. Not because you guys didn't want to kiss, but because the adrenaline wore off, and now the both of you were shy. It was almost comical, the way both of you completely reverted back to your bashful and sheepish selves, barely able to make eye-contact with each other.

"Thank you for tonight, Hee," you hummed, as you and Heeseung walked to the train station, hand-in-hand. "I had a lot of fun."

He scanned your face. The slight curve on your lips (oh god, your lips, the way the corner of your lip had a smudge of lipstick from kissing him earlier —how badly he wanted to kiss them again) was contagious. "Of course. I had a lot of fun, too."

The train ride back was quiet. You eventually began dozing off, resting your head on his shoulder.

"You did what?!" was the collective reaction of both you and Heeseung's friends. After that Friday together, you called together all of your friends to your house, to spill the beans. Likewise, Heeseung forced every single one of his friends into his living room.

"Ouuu, you little flirt!" Yunjin exclaimed. Currently, Yunjin, Winter, Hitomi, Yuri, and Minju were seated on your bedroom floor, while you dramatically flopped around on your bed. 

It was now that you explained to your friends your long-time crush on Heeseung, much to their pleasant surprise.

"And then what happened?" Minju asked, filing her finger-nails. "Did you profess your undying love for him?"

You groaned into your pillow. "I can't!"

"Why not?" Winter quirked a brow. "You guys literally kissed."

You let out another groan. "What if he doesn't like me like that?"

Your friends deadpanned.

Heeseung Lee didn't like you. He loved you. They would know better than anyone.

"[Name], honey, you're overthinking it," Yuri nudged you with her foot. "He gave you his jacket. I think that says enough."

"Well, what if I'm just getting ahead of myself and he's just being nice?"

"Girl..."

Heeseung had a similar reaction.

All of his friends stared at him like he just punched their grandmothers.

"You can't be serious right now, hyung..." Sunghoon said, pinching his nose-bridge.

All of his friends were piled onto one couch, while Heeseung laid out on the one across from them, almost like they were in a therapy session. 

"What if she just thinks I'm a good friend?" Heeseung used his hands to speak, theatrically moving them.

"What makes you think that?" Sunoo asked incredulously. 

Heeseung groaned. "[Name] tells Yuri Jo that she wants to marry her and they're good friends."

"Okay, and?"

"Well," Heeseung huffed. "What if [Name] kissed me because she sees me the same way that she sees Yuri?"

"Well, I'm good friends with Jungwon-hyung and I don't kiss him," Riki said matter-of-factly.

"Right..." Jungwon nodded his head slowly. "Hyung, do you really think a good friend would pin you against a wall and kiss you?"

"Do you think a good friend would kiss you three times and then call you cute like a bajillion other times?!" Jake chimed in.

"Let alone choose to keep your jacket?!" Jay sounded tired.

Heeseung clasped his hands together, thinking for a few moments.

"Yes."

All of his friends groaned in defeat.

"You're hopeless."

After a lot of urging and cross-communication between friend-groups, both of your friends managed to convince both you and Heeseung to confess to each other the next Monday.

"What if I faint the moment she says my name?" Heeseung catastrophized to Jay in the school bathroom. 

"Uh, I doubt that, hyung."

Heeseung texted you to meet him under the stairwell, and that was when he was going to confess. On your end, the moment that he texted that, you decided that you'd confess to him then.

When the time came, Heeseung headed out to the stairwell. His hands were clammy, and even when he wiped him on his uniform pants, he couldn't stop the trembling of his hands. What if everyone was instilling false hope in him? Gosh, Heeseung thought he was going to throw up. His stomach was churning, he was going to collapse if he saw you right now—

"Hee?" Your voice broke him out of his internal spiral. Seemingly, there was a halo around you, a light so bright that Heeseung was blinded.

"H-Hi," he stammered, straightening out his posture and clearing his throat.

Your hands were clasped behind your back, leaning forward toward him. "You wanted to talk to me, yeah?"

Heeseung couldn't bring himself to meet your gaze, his shoes suddenly becoming interesting. "Y-Yeah..."

The hallway where the stairwell was located was beginning to feel stuffy. Heeseung had never felt so nervous in his life. He was light-headed, barely able to even balance himself.

"Hee," you reached out to touch his arm, noticing his discomfort. "Let's go outside, okay?"

Going outside should have helped him cool down, but when you shrugged on his leather jacket to combat the cool air, Heeseung realized that there was no way in hell that he was going to get through this confession without dropping dead. 

The two of you walked around the school yard for a few minutes in silence. 

How should he start this confession? He had Sunghoon and Jake write out a script for him, and he spent the entire night memorizing it, but now in your presence he couldn't remember a single word. Should he have written a letter like Yuri Jo? Heeseung couldn't possibly contain himself.

"Hee," you finally said, disrupting the silence. "I have something to tell you."

Heeseung's mind wandered to the worst case scenario. 

You're going to tell him that you're moving across the world to marry the love of your life, aren't you? You're going to say that he's a great friend and that you just got a boyfriend, right? 

No, he needed to tell you his feelings first! If he didn't now, he'd never, and he'd burst into a million pieces!

"M-Me too!" he blurted, stopping in his tracks. 

You blinked at him, then smiled.

Oh, no! It's actually happening!

He could already hear your voice saying, "Hi, Heeseung, my boyfriend just proposed to me and you're invited to the wedding."

You sucked in a breath, parting your lips to speak.

He needed to tell you first! The little demons in his head kept replaying the scene of you asking him to be your groom of honor at your wedding with the love of your life next Saturday. He could hear the marriage officiant announcing, “I now pronounce you husband and wife” at your wedding, and he imagined himself sitting in that little wedding venue holding back tears.

Oh my god, he needed to say it now, or he'll never say it ever!

"Hee, I really--"

Heeseung cut you off. He squeezed his eyes shut, hands balling into fists.

"I like you, [Name]!" he yelled.

.

.

.

You stared at him in disbelief. Or were you flustered? Heeseung couldn't tell. With too much adrenaline in his veins, Heeseung threw away all the preparation and drafted scripts he and his friends made for this very moment.

"I-I.. I like you so much, I'm scared that I'm going to explode!" Heeseung continued shouting at you. He had no idea what he was saying. All he was doing was telling you the thoughts he'd had about you all this time. "You're so, so, so pretty and I can't believe that you're an actual, real, physical, person, and you make me feel so fucking stupid, I can't take it."

Your eyes were bulging out of your head at this point, your jaw dropped. 

"I've never liked anyone like I've liked you, a-and I just wanted to tell you this before you... you go off with someone else!"

Heeseung kept his eyes shut when he was done confessing, letting out a labored breath. There was no way that he could face you. The silence that fell over the two of you made Heeseung's heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. He squeezed his eyes in embarrassment. He gripped the hem of his shirt to relieve the bubbling anxiety inside him. Gosh, he was going to puke.

After a few moments, nothing happened. You didn't say a word. Did you just leave him there standing? Of course, you did. You were probably too kind and angelic to outright reject him. He was a fool to think that he had a chance with you—

Heeseung heard footsteps, and before he could react, he felt a pair of lips on his.

His eyes shot open.

You.

Were.

Kissing.

Him.

!!!

After he confessed!

Poor boy was so stiff, eyes wide.

Did that mean you liked him back?

You pulled away.

Usually, you had a reassuring smile on your face by default. Even during times where you were embarrassed, you almost never showed it on your face.

But this time, your entire face was painted with a flustered expression. Your cute lips jutted out in a mini pout, while your eyes were glued to the ground, avoiding his gaze.

A few pulses passed.

"I... I like you, too... by the way," you murmured.

Another few pulses passed.

You. Liked. Him.

Nonononono wait, was he dreaming?

You.

YOU.

The beautiful, angelic you. 

Liked him.

Without thinking, Heeseung stepped forward, gently grabbing your face.

"You're real, right?" he breathed. When glossy eyes stared back at him, Heeseung felt warmth spread across his chest. Your lips looked so appealing right now, he was craving them again. "I'm not dreaming, yeah?"

You blinked at him a few times. The corners of your lips quirked upward.

"Why, because I'm 'so pretty that you can't believe I'm real?' " your voice had a teasing tone in it, referencing his earlier confession. Heeseung chuckled, letting go of your face so that he could slide his hands to where they belonged: around your waist.

"Just kiss me," he mumbled, looking at you with lidded eyes.

You grinned. "Gladly."

With that, you smashed your lips onto his. Instead of the chaste, soft, kisses that you shared earlier, this one was different. You shoved your tongue into Heeseung's mouth, exploring all its crevices. Poor boy was so surprised that he squeezed your waist, letting out a small whine. The feeling of you smirking against his lips gave him butterflies.

You finally pulled away breathless, but gave him no time to breathe. You grasped his chin, giving you easy control. 

"You drive me so crazy," he murmured against the shell of your ear.

You pressed a kiss at the juncture between his neck and ear. "I drive you crazy?" you cocked your brow.

"You," you muttered. You began pressing kisses down his jaw. 

“Drive.” 

Kiss.

“Me.” 

Kiss. 

“So-” 

Kiss.

"Fucking-" 

Kiss.

"Crazy."

Before you could pounce on him with more kisses, Heeseung, red in the face, flopped over you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He let out a cute groan.

"What, are you getting shy on me?" you teased him, running your fingers through his hair. He shook his head against your shoulder, making you coo.

"I can't believe you like me back, that's all," he mumbled, muffled by your shoulder. 

You laughed. "How? I feel like I was so obvious."

Heeseung looked up at you with pink cheeks, frowning. "You don't even want to know how hopelessly in love with you I was."

You quirked a brow at him. 

"Yeah?" You pecked his forehead. "Try me."

Heeseung let out a breathy chuckle. He attacked your lips.

"How about I show you?"

FIN.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated :)

park sunghoon — THE PUSSY EATING COMPETITION!

P. munch!sunghoon x fem!reader (17+) | W. pussy eating (obv), squirting, oral, unprotected sex, cursing, multiple orgasms, munches jakehoon + munchwon , freakseung, subspace, biting, other shit i forgot | WC. 5.7k !! | A,N. this one’s for my babychels ! @ak4e7a ♡ … would anyone like a drabble about heeseung’s experience?

in which… jake convinces sunghoon to join a pussy eating competition with a bet !

“you want me to join the what?” sunghoon questioned, his thick eyebrows furrowed, plump lips parted in confusion.

“the pussy eating competition, bro!” jake rolled his eyes as he repeated his sentence for the third time already. reaching over to flick a concerned looking sunghoon’s forehead.

“and why the fuck would i join whatever the fuck that is?” he smacked jake’s hand away when the stinging pain rushed in his head. cursing jake more under his breath. “why the fuck not?” he huffed, “heeseung was at it yesterday, he won his stupid bet with jay.”

“they had a bet?” sunghoon closed his laptop, deciding that whatever notes he was about to take from their lecture can wait until he figures out if jake is being serious or not. “yeah, dude. jay bet heeseung fifty bucks if he could make his girl squirt three times in ten minutes.” jake chuckled at the memory.

“and heeseung won?” sunghoon questioned, eyebrows raised in anticipation this time as jake’s smile only widened. “won the bet in eight minutes and twenty six seconds.” he laughed, sunghoon wasn’t surprised or shocked in any way. he was surprised at jay’s idiocy of choosing ‘ten minutes’ when all heeseung has been doing since he got laid was boast about his squirting ability in their group chat.

and heeseung called himself ‘the pussy squirting fairy’ way too often for their liking.

and besides who even came up with this stupid competition in the first place? who even agreed to any of this? why did heeseung and jay join? and why the fuck was jake asking him to join too?

“listen bro it’s nothing serious— you go to the pussy eating competition center and ask to join in for a competition with someone— in that case that will be me, and then we’ll get to eat some fire pussy out for free so it’s really just a huge win situation.” jake rambled, balancing between his two feet as he continued to convince sunghoon to join in with him.

“we could even place a bet like hyung and jay did! ten minutes for three squirts is a good deal you know? it’s just that heeseung is a fucking frea—“ jake’s voice slowly got tuned out of sunghoon’s ear as he thought about this more.

considering all the possibilities of this competition that still sounded pretty unreal to him, was this a stupid idea? yes. should he trust jake? no. did he not believe this idea because it sounded like a dream? yes. was the last time that sunghoon got offered pussy around three months ago? unfortunately, yes. did he currently feel like a loser teenage boy with his pants tightening at the thought of eating pussy? … also yes.

but was this an opportunity for him to live up to his ‘certified munch hoon’ title though? yes. and was sunghoon going to take it? fuck yes.

“you could also tap out at any minute—“ “where can i apply?” sunghoon interrupted jake’s irritating speech. “it’s not tha— huh?” his eyes widened in surprised, “you want to join?” he tilted his head to the side in a puppy like manner, a twinkle of excitement in his gaze. “you said you were going to join too, right?” sunghoon eyed him warily, a wave of relief washing down on him when jake nodded with enthusiasm.

“you also said we could place bets, yeah?” he questioned, “yes! like the ten minutes for three squirts hyung mad—“ “make it five.” jake gaped at him, blinking his eyes in surprise. “what?”

his hand came up to rest on sunghoon’s shoulder as he tried to process his words, “five minutes?” his gaze became conflicted as the younger nodded, “five minutes for three?” jake tried to understand him more, really trying his best.

“five minutes for five squirts.” jake gulped.

“for a hundered bucks.”

well fuck.

sunghoon was on a mission.

wearing a white, sleeveless shirt along with jeans to make his movements easier, the shirt given to him by jake in order to ‘tell apart who got the more squirts’ according to the wetness that coated the white fabric.

he was now standing in line with jake, the shorter one walking with a slight bounce in his step from his excitement. “are you ready?” he whispered, eyes travelling all over the place where the competition was held.

countless other contestants from both genders aligned in the waiting line, each pair waiting their own turn, some going neck to neck with other friends and placing bets while others threw snarky glances at each other.

truly a competition for some.

“do we atleast get to pick who we get to eat out?” the taller sighed, his ebony locks sticking further to his temples due to his sweat, it was either unreasonably hot or sunghoon was weirdly nervous.

probably unreasonably hot. it was mid july after all.

“i don’t think so.. i didn’t ask hyung—“ “obviously no.” a foreign voice cut off jake, making the two turn around to greet another guy. that was also wearing a white shirt.

“it’s a competition. you don’t get to choose who you get to eat out.” he rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing. god what an obnoxious attitude.

sunghoon rolled his eyes, “pipe the fuck down, jungwon. we get it you practically live here.” jake snapped back. running his fingers through his hair while he turned around. he looked unusually restless for sunghoon’s liking.

i mean, there was a whole hundred dollar bill on the table for this bet.

“park sunghoon and sim jaeyun! you’re up next.” the same guy who jotted down their names in his board, who sunghoon assumed was the manager— called both of their names up to the front.

where sunghoon wasn’t prepared to have his breath knocked out of his lungs so quickly.

as he and jake stepped up the smal staircase leading to the mini stage where two chairs were situated, there sat two girls. very very pretty girls. dreamlike pretty girls. one hundred percent sunghoon’s type. really really pretty gir—

“stop fucking staring like a creep.” jake elbowed him when he realised that sunghoon was basically two seconds away from drooling at the sight of you. sunghoon covered his awkward staring with a strained cough. lowering his head and unknowingly bringing attention to his reddening ears.

which at the sight of, you chuckled.

and sunghoon’s knees almost buckled.

“take your respective positions and be prepared.” the manager, who sunghoon caught a brief glance at the name tag of— mark. ordered them around. sunghoon stepped closer towards you. who stared at him with the most alluring glint in your eyes. you were wearing a pink top with pink lace panties that were covered by a feather light towel. don’t ask how he noticed them.

“hi.. i’m sunghoon.” he spoke awkwardly, extending out his hand towards yours. finding his demeanour adorable, you quickly shook his hand. a smile gracing your features as you introduced yourself to him.

three months shouldn’t be that much time since he got with a girl but it felt like it was centuries ago. especially with the way his heart began to thump thump thump! between his ribs weirdly.

he spared a swift glance to jake, just in time to catch him throwing a flirtatious wink towards his own girl. goodness that dude was a freak himself.

“spare the introductions and get into your positions, what was your bet again?” mark quickly muttered, glancing at the paper in his hand and back at jake and sunghoon. pushing his glasses above the bridge of his nose.

“a hundred bucks.” jake spoke, puffing out his chest in anxiety, “and that’s for ten minutes right? three orgasms in ten?” mark nodded as he wrote down the timing on his paper.

“no actually… it’s five minutes.” jake bit his lips, sunghoon shook his head in slight disbelief and embarrassment at the current situation they were in right now. totally ignoring the fact that there were two drop dead gorgeous girls whispering and giggling right behind them both.

“five minutes for three?” mark questioned, his eyebrows raising in surprise that increased when sunghoon quickly shook his head in denial, “five minutes for five.” mark blinked.

a slight echoing line of ooo’s made their way into jake and sunghoon’s reddened ears, embarrassment crawling up their backs as mark awkwardly cleared his throat and nodded to their words. quickly changing the numbers on the timer and scribbling a few other random sentences on his board.

“we’ll shortly start the timer and the competition will begin.” he stepped back allowing the two to inch back towards the girls, jake spared a quick glance at mark who was now holding onto the alarm clock between his fingers before lowering down to his knees in front of the chair.

sunghoon swiftly followed suit, dropping onto his knees and lifting his head right between your legs to welcome the heavenly view. gosh you looked divine.

“five for five, hm?” you cheekily smiled at him, a sight that made the boy’s heart throb with the sudden need to always make you smile. he nodded shyly, his slightly wavy locks ruffling in his hair in a fluffy manner at the motion. “better not disappoint.” you then discarded the towel to the ground.

“oh i for sure won’t.” sunghoon smirked, a wave of confidence descending on him at the sight of your soaked cunt so close to his face, he could practically taste your leaking essence from the side of your panties.

“on your marks..” the young manager called out, sunghoon skilfully pulled apart your plush thighs, placing your legs on top of his shoulders as jake did the same besides him. you quickly laid back towards the table behind you on your elbows, giving sunghoon full access to anything and everything.

“get set..” mark called out, eyes glued on the button that will start the timer while sunghoon pushed the tip of his nose against your slit, the contact making you hum in delight as his tip pressed against your throbbing clit while your essence soaked through the thin fabric and onto his skin.

he poked his tongue out just slightly, brushing against your sopping hole restricted by the lace fabric that began to slightly irritate him, and sunghoon was gone.

pineapples. cotton candy. cranberries. straight sugar. you tasted otherworldly. it was not surprising that you would taste delicious as you probably do take care of yourself to the best of your ability because of this competition, but for you to taste this dizzying? to have an essence and nectar that melted against his tastebuds like honey?

sunghoon was gone.

“go!” and just like that, sunghoon’s brain was replaced by a horny puddle of mush inside of his skull. unaware of the fact that he pushed and teared your panties to the side, aiming to lick a long, tantalising stripe starting from your hole till he reached your clit where he applied pressure.

the action made your hand shoot towards his head, gripping a handful of his soft hair in your hands as his tongue circled and pushed against your sensitive nub, his large fingers pried your thighs apart when they began to push against him. normally, sunghoon wouldn’t mind getting suffocated by plush and soft thighs like this. yet today, he couldn’t lose a hundered dollar bill against jake. out of all people.

and fucking jake was going at it next to him. making all sorts of wet noises that had his girl throwing her head back in pleasure. while the timer struck twenty five seconds.

fuck, he only had thirty five seconds left for the first minute.

that’s when sunghoon decided to let go of all of his restraints, allowing all the walls he kept to crumble right apart when he pushed your legs around his head, one hand holding your leg to keep your pressed against him as you needed the extra support while the other pushed his middle and ring finger deep inside of you.

a squeal left your mouth when sunghoon attached his plump lips around your clit. sucking and slurping so loudly, obscene noises followed by your moans and the ticking of the timer barely made their way past sunghoon’s ringing ears. he was completely out of it.

he thrusted his finger in and out. quickly in and out. too busy closing his eyes to savour your flavour on his tongue to take notice of the multiple webs of wetness that connected his knuckles and your entrance. his fingers reached so deep, they were so long and the perfect size to cause the most delicious burn in your walls as he stretched them open.

right when the timer hit forty seconds, sunghoon’s fingertip brushed against your sweet spot.

you mewled his name, back arching off of the table as he hummed in delight at the realisation, “found it, didn’t i? it’s right. here.” he accentuated every word with another thrust against the spot that had you seeing stars. you nodded mindlessly as the knot in your abdomen curled on itself the longer sunghoon abused your cunt.

“f-fuck yes! right there, baby. right there.” you encouraged him, moans increasing in volume the harsher sunghoon sucked around your clit, his fingers became even more restless after the sudden petname. baby. that’s right, he was your baby. the only one that will please you from now on.

“yeah, pretty girl? feels good doesn’t it?” sunghoon spoke against your clit, each word sending a vibration right against your spine as pleasure raked through your body in rough waves. it suddenly felt like you were the only two in the world. your surroundings melting in an instant as you gasped his name and praised him for making you feel so good. so ecstatic.

fifty seconds in, and that’s when the coil in your abdomen suddenly snapped.

your climax washed over you out of nowhere, such an intense and speedy build up that you weren’t even able to process anything till you started to shake under sunghoon’s hold. your wetness was dripping down his forearm as he fucked you through your orgasm, each thrust of his finger made your squirt land over his shirt.

first sixty seconds was a complete and easy success.

“first minute is done! one point for sunghoon, and one point for jaeyun.” mark called out. shit, so that fucker also managed to keep up with him then?

he still had four minutes to redeem himself. with the way he was able to easily make you squirt from the first fifty seconds he felt like he knew your body inside out. knew exactly which buttons to push and what nerve to pull to coax out another orgasm out of you. there was no way he was losing.

“minute two starting now!” mark’s voice reached sunghoon’s ears in a muffled manner as he pressed your twitching legs closer to his shoulders, this time sunghoon pushed his long tongue inside of your gushing hole. a lustful glint in his eyes as he reached his slender fingers towards your clit.

rubbing slow, torturous but powerful circles on your aching nub while he licked all over your walls, slurping against your wetness that leaked down his chin and made its way down his neck, fuck he was so addicted to your flavour.

your moans became weaker as your body tried to calm down from your previous orgasm, such a mind blowing climax washing down on your body so suddenly made your head spin. and sunghoon was already overstimulating you as he worked towards another orgasm. fuck. you, yourself were done for under him.

he felt so good. so skilled as he satisfied and pleasured you in ways you’ve never felt before. his strong, muscular arms keeping your legs open as he buried his face so mindlessly between them, diving into your wetness with no other care in the world as if he was born to do this.

he lived to devour pussy. truly suitable for a competition like this.

“gonna give me another one hm?” twenty nine seconds.

“think you can handle another one, babydoll?” he taunted, barely pulling out his tongue to speak before burying it back inside of you, his fingers never halting to a stop as they began to pinch and pull at your clit. the familiar tightening in your lower stomach made your mind reel while your silence began to frustrate sunghoon.

that’s when he landed a harsh slap against your clit. the sudden pain and pleasure making you jolt under his hold as you nearly screamed out his name. “y-yes, yes i can! please, i’ll give you as many as you want!” you cried out, your broken begs rushing directly into his aching cock in the confines of his jeans. exactly what he needed to hear.

“what a good fucking girl, hm? such a good girl for me, aren’t ya?” he mocked, hand resorting back to circling on your clit as he buried himself in your folds, his nose brushed up against his fingers while he thrusted his tongue in and out of you stimulating you in the best ways possible.

thirty seven seconds was all it took for sunghoon to make you squirt on him for the second time. in the span of a minute and a half.

he slapped against your leaking hole while you convulsed beneath him, each slap getting his shirt wetter which signalled mark to announce “minute two half way done, two points for sunghoon and one for jaeyun!”

jake’s noise of surprised went unnoticed by sunghoon, almost half way in. he thought to himself as he lifted your limp legs off of his shoulders and balanced himself on his knees again.

he pressed your legs together, making your swollen, glistening folds puff up one each other while your nectar slipped out of your hole in heavy, clear droplets. sunghoon wanted to do nothing more than to slurp it all up.

without wasting anymore time, he pushed his mouth against your cunt, kissing up against your folds as the timer showcased fifty seconds, as cocky as this might sound but he already knew he won. especially when he inhaled your scent deeply and pushed his nose and mouth onto your entrance again. successful in making you scream his name this time.

he held your shaking legs up with one hand, grip strong and tight as he relished in your flavour running down his throat. so addicted as he ate you out like a drunk man. completely high on your pussy. he sucked and licked and kissed everywhere so noisily.

sucking up your swollen and sensitive folds into his mouth, coating every inch of your skin in his saliva that combined with your own wetness before returning to slurp around your clit. his mind was reeling. becoming a mushy piece of muscle in his head as the only thought that drove him to continue was to make you squirt again.

“minute three starting now, with two points to sunghoon and two points to jaeyun. yet another tie!” fuck, jake was catching up.

but sunghoon for some reason was starting to not mind.. call it the euphoria of getting high off of pussy or anything else. he no longer wanted to do this to beat jake and win a hundred dollars. he wanted to do this because it felt good. you felt good.

and just like that, he began to indulge himself in your cunt entirely. surrendering and making his rational side disappear as he hummed and moaned at your taste. shaking his head from side to side as he slurped you up so well. drooling your essence further down his chin as he pleasured you because it was his own pleasure.

each moan of his sent shocks around you body. your surroundings blurring as the air around you became electrified. goosebumps aligning your skin when you felt another climax building up gradually in your abdomen. the longer he spent humming around your clit and buzzing up your whole body the further you felt your consciousness slipping away from your fingertips.

guess you couldn’t really handle it after all.

it was at three minutes and fifteen seconds when sunghoon made you squirt for the third time.

your hands shot to grip onto the chair that was by now shaking with your body, hot white ecstasy blinding your vision as your climax washed down on your body in violent waves one after the other. and sunghoon just kept going. noisily slurping up everything you offered. he was being so embarrassingly loud as he kept rubbing his face into your cunt, getting your wetness all over his face and jaw. overstimulating you more with each passing second while your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“three minutes and twenty seconds in! three points for sunghoon and two for jake!” mark announced, his voice becoming unusually strained as the sight of the two men on their knees doing their best to pleasure their girls was starting to get to him.

it was his least favourite part of his job when he started to feel a tightening in his pants.

“so good for me, doll. we only need two more, come on. you can give it to me right?” you nodded with your head spinning. a dizzying sense of pleasure raking through your veins. sunghoon settled down for gentle bites across your thighs, giving you a few moments to cool down as he looked up.

big mistake.

the sight of you had one of his hands shooting down towards his raging boner that began uncontrollably twitching between his boxers. your pretty pink tank top ridden up revealing the underside of the plush skin of your breasts, a sheen layer of sweat coating your body as you breathed in deeply to calm your heart down when it felt like it was seconds away from bursting.

your fucked out expression is what did it for him. eyes hazed and high off pleasure. drunk on the feeling of his plump lips on your swollen cunt that tightened around nothing. sunghoon was so fucked.

“so needy for me isn’t she..?” he whispered only for you to hear, fascinated in the way your gaping hole winked at him. spilling out more of your sweet nectar that became sunghoon’s favourite drug in the matter of a few minutes. you grew flustered at his words, lifting your arm up t cover your eyes while sunghoon blew on your pussy teasingly.

discarding the competition and the fact that there were people around him, sunghoon quickly lifted himself up, leaning his body forward above yours as he began to hover on top of you. your breath hitched at the close proximity while sunghoon smiled adorably, showcasing you his pretty fangs that were sinking down your thighs just a few seconds ago.

“ready to give me another one, little girl?” he whispered. so so close to your face that his wet lips that were covered in your essence brushed against yours with every word. you nodded shyly, slowly getting fucked into subspace as your mind began to shut down. eyes blinking slowly while sunghoon pushed his long fingers back inside of you. gosh you were so cute.

three minutes and thirty two seconds in, and you were gripping onto sunghoon’s bicep that pushed his fingers inside of you deeper.

you were mewling and whimpering his name so prettily. so perfect and delicate under him. under his control allowing him to do anything with your body and it was driving him crazy. he couldn’t hold himself back when he finally pushed his lips against yours.

you moaned so endearingly under him. kissing him back so eagerly as his fingertip massaged your sweet spot making you bite gently on his lower lip. he groaned into your mouth as he fucked his fingers quicker. hitting all your spots with each thrust and making you see stars while he sucked on the tip of your tongue.

he didn’t care that he could be breaking rules right now. did not give a singular flying fuck that mark could be looking around confused wondering if this was accepted. and certainly did not even mind when jake scored his third point. all he wanted and needed right now was for you to cum for him as many times as possible. he needed to feel you tightening as your euphoria made you fall apart in his hold. it was a pleasure that he got addicted to.

“you close baby? feeling good hm?” he didn’t even need you to respond to him. not when your cunt was doing all the talking by clenching and drooling down his wrist. sucking in three of his fingers in so deeply he could only imagine how incredible you would feel around his cock, but in reality he shouldn’t imagine that right now. not when his dick was about to practically rip apart his boxers.

“s’close hoon.. so so close!” you blabbered, brain completely shutting down as you couldn’t tell apart your orgasm and overstimulation anymore. all you could feel and process was the unbelievable amount of pure ecstatic pleasure rushing throughout your whole body so wonderfully that it had you digging your nails into his back. your legs going numb under you as your knot tightened and tightened for the fourth time. almost done.

“come on, babydoll. cum for me like the good girl that you are.” he whispered against your neck and that was enough for you to squirt around his fingers again. he kept fucking into you, riding out your orgasm as your throat was no longer able to produce any noises, only soft whispers of pleads reaching sunghoon’s ear as he scored his fourth point easily.

he kissed along your jawline when he stilled his fingers inside of you, “please what, pretty girl?” he asked, already having a fleeting wild thought in his head that he discarded because he might actually lose his sanit— “i need your cock please. please for the last one, please fuck me.” holy fuck.

“three minutes and fifty six seconds in! four points for sunghoon and three for jaey— why are you taking your pants o?—“ mark’s voice became unreasonably loud towards the end but sunghoon was on a mission.

five squirts is five squirts. a hundred dollar bill is a hundred dollar bill. he’s not about to lose any of this because he didn’t push his cock into a pretty little hole like yours. no he was about to make his win a double win.

sunghoon pushed down both his jeans and boxers down in one go, his leaking cock springing out the tight pieces of fabric with multiple lines of precum dribbling down to his balls, thick mushroom tip that’s a fiery red throbbing in need and desire while your swollen hole gaped at him.

yeah he was gonna lose if he didn’t fuck you for sure.

“you ready, doll?” he asked as if he hadn’t spent the past few minutes stretching you out so nicely. you nodded so eagerly at his words. mouth watering at the sight of his veiny, thick cock pulsating so deliciously in front of you. he was so big. such a perfect size for stretching you out more.

he pushed the head of his cock in and god was he huge. you gasped around his lips when he gave you a few seconds to adjust before pushing his entire length in, bottoming out quicker than anticipated, but sunghoon didn’t care.

he couldn’t care less about the fact that he was fucking you in front of random people right now. why should he care when he knew he was going to bring you home by the end of the day and slither his way into your life after this? in fact, people should be glad because this will be the last time you’ll be seen here.

because he’s planning on having you in strawberry pink lingeries between his silky satin sheets for the rest of his life.

so technically, everyone should be glad they’re getting a show of you both right now. because it’ll be the last one.

“so deep hoon.. so fuckin’ deep..” you mewled, eyes shutting in pleasure when he slightly pulled out, barely by an inch before he thrusted back in. he felt the way your warm walls pulsed around his cock needily. sucking him back in with each movement as if they were not allowing him to pull out at all. so needy and so desperate to have something, anything to plug up your slutty hole.

“feeling good, pretty girl?” he asked, lowering his hand to press on the evident bulge that appeared on your lower stomach. the feeling made the two of you groan in pleasure, sunghoon was fleeting through cloud nine. he couldn’t believe how he went on with his life for so many years without spending each passing inside your cunt. so many time wasted when he could’ve been drunk on the heaven between your legs.

“s’good! so good, hoon.” gasping out the new petname that had his eyes rolling back, he glanced at the timer that was held by a flustered mark, palming his raging boner through his pants and noticed “four minutes and twenty nine seconds.” yeah the game was his. he won.

he switched his position, balancing himself back on his legs as he gripped your thighs, wrapping them around his waist while he sunk his cock in deeper. relishing in the sight of you throwing your head back when he penetrated you so good. the tip of his dick kissing against your cervix harshly. and just like that, he began to pound inside of you.

your unrestrained moans tumbled past your lips at his harsh thrusts. body being lit ablaze with mind numbing pleasure that enlivened every part of you. a different, never felt before kind of thrill rushed through your being. a fervent sensation that you’ve never experienced, one only brought to you by sunghoon as he continued to fuck you. determined on making you crumble completely around his cock.

and his wish was about to be granted with the way your abdomen began to tighten. exhaustion creeping up on you along with an almost scary build up of your climax. you were about to get knocked out with this one and you felt it.

“come on, angel. give me another one. the final one, i know you can do it, doll.” he encouraged, pressing his hand on his bulge that disappeared and appeared with every one of his thrusts, his large hand applying the perfect amount of pressure to have your head spin again. seconds away from cumming on his cock for the first time. his tip pressed and massaged all of your spots perfectly. “it’s right here, isn’t it? this is where you’re weak for me.” he chuckled.

you were slowly losing consciousness at this rate, body burning with euphoria that flashed through your limbs. “f-fuck i’m s’close! hoon— fuck!” you screamed his name as you felt your pleasure crashing down on you for the fifth time. walls tightening and clenching mercilessly making sunghoon hiss in pain while you squirted all over his abdomen.

the pressure from your orgasm made it hard for him to thrust back, but he continued. “and five points for sunghoon! at four minutes and fifty one seconds! park sunghoon is the winner of the pussy eating competition!” a new voice cheered from behind him, one that belonged to a taller manager that appeared since mark had to leave for a quick and ‘urgent’ bathroom break, making his best friend, johnny announce the winner.

but did the winner in question care right now? not really.

ignoring jake’s protests of disappointment and the sounds of his girl comforting him and finding him being upset adorable, also ignoring jake’s yells of shock and disbelief when he looked over and realised that sunghoon was currently balls deep inside of his girl. “i didn’t know you could literally fuck?!” he practically screamed at johnny as his girl tried to hold him back from jumping the taller guy.

yet all of this, went unnoticed by both you and sunghoon. who was now chasing his own pleasure inside of your divine pussy that kept trying to push him out while your back arched in his hold, pushing your chest against his as your body shook with complete overstimulation. he buried himself so deep inside of you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he hugged you when he pressed his tip against your cervix entirely before shooting his load inside of you.

both of you groaned in pleasure, sunghoon whimpering your name as his climax came down on him with intense ecstasy that coursed through his body. each nerve ending of his blazing with fire while his mind melted. you felt so unreal.

he finally came down from his high, allowing the two of you to catch your breaths as he was rooted still so deep inside of you. “you okay, doll?” he mumbled lowly only for you to hear, panting on your skin while you nodded tiredly, eyes clearly droopy and sleepy making him chuckle. finding all of your expressions so adorable.

“you did so good for me, little girl.” he kissed your lips, savouring the taste of you on his tongue and lips before he gently pulled away. pulling his softening length out and quickly fixing his clothing before grabbing your discarded towel to help clean you up. unaware of the fact that there was a looming, pissed jaeyun behind him like his shadow.

“what the fuck sunghoon!?” he suddenly yelled, making the two of you jump in surprise before you tiredly looked over and sunghoon angrily turned around. “the fuck are you yelling for?” he furrowed his eyebrows, seriously what was this dude thinking right now?

“you cheated!” he pointed his finger, eyes wide with the accusation as sunghoon only glanced at him one more time before returning to assist you. “didn’t he basically cheat?!” the shorter one turned around to face johnny who was too busy flirting with the next contestants, “yeah yeah you could do anything as long as you make the girl squirt, sim” he waved him off.

“why the fuck am i just knowing this?!”

at the end of the competition, sunghoon— as predicted won. he walked out of that place with not only an upset jaeyun and a hundred dollar bill, but also the love of his life.

a,note. thanks for reading !! (⺣◡⺣)♡

TYSM FOR 200 NOTES 🥹🫶🏼

you broke me first - l.hs

pairing: virgin!lee heeseung x experienced fem!reader

synopsis: you and heeseung are the school’s golden pair — popular, admired, and constantly shipped. the only problem? you can’t stand him. from competing on exams to gym class, you’re always neck and neck, and no one gets under your skin like he does. but while you see a rival, he sees the love of his life. when you overhear a hushed conversation that breaks you, will heeseung be able to win you back?

featuring: all of enha, winter from aespa, yuqi from (g)i-dle, and keeho from p1h

genre: angst... slow burn, some fluff, kissing, skinship, SMUTTTT, college au, first love trope?? sorta? one sided enemies to lovers

warnings: smut so mdni (18+), alcohol consumption, vandalizing property, Sexual Tension, everyone is around the same age (21-23), lowercase intended <3

(smut warnings under cut!)

wc: 13.271k

a/n: first fic is here! plsplspls leave feedback as anything helps!! was listening to you broke me first and got inspo for a kinda angsty fic pls bare with me :3 anyways! enjoy the read <3<3

smut content: mention of toys (but no use), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex (not for you), dry humping, switch! hee and reader, riding, mating press, too much kissing, masturbation (m.), breeding kink, slight dacryphilia, oral (m. & f.), deepthroating, belly bulge, creampie, size kinkish, big dick! hee, not much aftercare but it's like fluffy, y/n has a “reputation” that she gets around, VIRGIN HEESEUNG (but no one knows…) i think thats it? lmk if i missed anything ◡̈

not proofread!

lee. fucking. heeseung. you hate him. you can't stand him. he always knows what to say just to piss you off. you might be wondering, "why don't you just try to avoid him?" the issue is... you do. you try with ALL your power but to no avail, he's in the same friend group as you.

your friends, knowing you hate him, decided to combine friend groups to see if you and him could mend things. spoiler alert: it failed miserably.

you felt safe in your small circle with keeho (the man you deemed to be your biological older brother — you aren't related), yuqi (your junior high best friend), and winter (your literal wife).

you guys were well known around the entire city of seoul for being the "it group" — always partying, hooking up, and somehow still acing every class (while nursing massive hangovers).

however, heeseung's friend group consisted of the golden boys in decelis university: park jongseong (known as jay, he hates his given name), sim jaeyun (known as the australian transfer student, jake), park sunghoon (the insanely hot figure skater), kim sunoo (the bubbliest person you've ever met), yang jungwon (the boy with feline features, however you've made a special note to never piss him off cause he has a black belt), and nishimura riki (known as ni-ki because he wanted to be different).

you loved riki. he was like your younger brother — chaotic, blunt, and always three steps ahead of everyone. you’d even joked once that if you had to suffer heeseung’s presence, at least you got riki out of it.

unfortunately, riki had the worst habit of instigating chaos.

“truth or dare?” he asked one friday night, grinning like he already had your life planned out. everyone was crammed into jay’s ridiculously large basement, music low, snacks half eaten, and bodies sprawled on beanbags and plush carpet.

you should’ve said “truth.” you knew you should’ve. but you weren’t a coward.

“dare,” you answered, arms crossed, eyes sharp.

the group erupted in ooooh's in perfect synchronicity.

riki’s grin only widened. “i dare you to sit on heeseung’s lap for five minutes.”

you almost lunged across the room.

“riki,” you hissed, “you are so dead.”

he just wiggled his brows suggestively. “i’m a baby. you wouldn’t hurt me.”

the worst part? he was right.

you looked over at heeseung, who was watching you like a cat watching a cornered mouse — lazy smirk, fingers casually drumming against his knee. “scared, sweetheart?”

“i’ll kill you in your sleep,” you said sweetly as you stalked over and dropped yourself into his lap like he was made of cardboard and air.

he oofed, not because you were heavy, but because he wasn’t expecting you to actually do it.

“wow,” he murmured, lips near your ear. “you smell like citrus and bad decisions.”

you resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

five minutes. you just had to survive five minutes.

but then his hands casually settled on your waist, and you felt it — the spark. the electric, traitorous, goddamn spark that told you this was a very, very bad idea.

because maybe, just maybe, your hatred wasn’t as pure as you thought- no. what are you thinking??? you immediately shook the feeling that was buzzing inside you and blamed it on the alcohol swimming in your blood.

you definitely. hated heeseung. yup, yeah, you really did.

heeseung on the other hand? he was just praying to every god he could think of that you couldn't feel how sweaty his palms were getting.

because he was panicking. full blown, internal screaming, oh-no-she’s-sitting-on-me-and-she’s-warm kind of panicking. he hadn't expected you to actually follow through on your usual threats, much less practically straddle him in front of your mutual friends.

but now? now he was just trying to not pass out from the sheer force of your perfume and presence and the weight of years of unresolved tension that sat heavier than you ever could.

"you're sweating," you said flatly, side eyeing him with that expression that usually meant murder or mockery — or both. "you good?"

"totally," he croaked. "i always nearly die when beautiful people threaten me. it's, like, my thing."

you blinked once. twice.

"did you just call me beautiful?"

"i said what i said," he muttered, then immediately regretted everything.

your brows lifted in slow, dangerous amusement. "you feeling okay, heeseung? you hitting on me while i’m threatening you?”

“wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, almost too quiet for you to hear.

and there it was again. the spark. like a lighter flicked too close to your frayed nerves.

you looked away, choosing to focus on literally anything else, but his grip on your waist tightened just slightly, grounding you, almost daring you to acknowledge it.

“how much longer do i have to sit on this assholes lap?” you questioned under your breath, reminding yourself, reminding him, that this was temporary.

"4 minutes!" jake sang back as his accented voice rang in your ears. fuck, it's only been one minute? you thought to yourself... until he spoke.

“i could ruin us in three,” he whispered, warm breath tickling your ear. he was so close you could practically feel his labored breathing against your back. you craned your neck to the side so you could look him in the eyes, "what did you just say???" heeseung was at a loss for words — his brain only drawing blanks.

did he say what he thought he said in his head out loud? impossible. he's hidden it so well, no one in your guys' shared friend group had even suspected his overbearing attraction towards you.

so heeseung did the only thing he could think of. he gulped.

just as your gaze dropped to his adams apple, sunghoon cleared his throat, reducing the fiery tension between you two to reduce to a simmer. "time's up" he stated. and just like that, the warmth you once shared was gone.

as the game progressed, the most interesting things to occur were jake kissing sunghoon on the cheek, riki vandalizing an old alley way that never saw the sun, and winter lady-and-the-tramping a twizzler with keeho.

you and heeseung never dared to even spare a glance in each other's direction for the rest of the night.

───

you laid awake, staring at the ceiling in jay's basement while trying to get comfy on the leather couch that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. you couldn't sleep. and the reason? none other than your self-proclaimed arch nemesis: lee heeseung.

your friend groups slept on different floors to prevent you and heeseung arguing and waking up the entire house. you slowly got up, attempting and (barely) succeeding to not step on a sleeping figure sprawled on the floor.

as you walk up the stairs from the basement, you hear two people whisper shouting at each other.

you glance at the time displayed on your phone.

a measly 3:16 am stared brightly at you. who's awake at this hour?? as you step closer to the hushed voices, you think you can make out the unmistakeable deepness of riki's voice and heeseung's annoying(ly hot) whispers, tinged with sleep.

"why the fuck would you dare HER of all people to sit on MY lap????" heeseung shouts quietly, clearly frustrated. riki bursts into a fit of giggles. "dude, don't tell me you feel something for her, don't you guys like hate each other?" he says between snide little chuckles.

heeseung freezes. there's no way riki really caught on to what he was supposed to never let slip through the cracks... right?! so he musters up all the dignity he has left and defensively grunts a series of defenses "nowhywouldieverseeherlikethatsheisn'tmytypeandithinkshe'sgross"

riki blankly stares back at heeseung's panicking eyes, "okayyy," he drags the word out, "you don't need to put her down like that, she's like my older sister, dude" riki spits back.

your lips twitch in a small smile, just for a second. just long enough for riki to catch your eyes peeking behind the corner. he nods once, subtle and solid. always in your corner.

but the comfort dies as soon as heeseung opens his mouth.

"i could never love someone like her."

and the world stops.

he says it so casually. almost like it’s a joke. like it's just another throwaway comment tossed between drinks and half-meant insults. but it lands with the weight of something cruelly true — or at least, something you believe he means.

you feel the breath hitch in your throat. just once.

riki's gaze is drawn to your frozen frame. and that's when everything freezes. heeseung whips around to see you standing there. eyes blown and glossy.

riki shifts, but he doesn’t move to try and console you — he knows better. knows this is something that'll bruise. something you need time to process, alone.

you bite back tears. “right,” you say, quietly. “of course.”

heeseung’s expression flickers — confusion, regret, something else — but you’ve already masked the pain. emotion draining from your face like you’ve trained for it. like it’s a sport. like if you stop moving, the hurt will catch up.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” he says, a little too late, a little too soft.

you readjust your posture, fixing your shirt.

“you meant it exactly like that,” you reply, and it’s not even bitter. it’s worse. numb.

riki’s there before heeseung can say anything else. standing between you like a wall. like a shield.

“walk away,” he tells you gently, and you do.

because if you stay, you might ask him why not. and you’re not sure your heart could take the answer.

riki turns back to heeseung, flames he's never seen before burning in the younger boys irises that are normally filled with mischief and teasing glints. but all of a sudden none of that is there anymore. it's pure, unfiltered anger. raw emotion.

heeseung wants him to yell at him. say something, anything. but nothing comes. riki just walks upstairs like he doesn't even know who heeseung is anymore.

and maybe he doesn't.

───

the next morning, when heeseung wakes up, it's almost peaceful. until rain begins to tip tap on the roof and everything comes crashing down. his chest is tight and immediately swells with regret. so much he thinks it'll spill out of him just like the rain outside.

he needs to talk to you. make sure you're okay. but he knows he's the last person you want to see right now. still, he has to try

as he descends down the stairs, he doesn't smell the usual feast jay would prepare them: eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice and cereal for jake since he claims, "it doesn't hurt his tummy," (his words).

he actually doesn't see jake. nor sunghoon, sunoo, jungwon, jay, winter, yuqi, or keeho.

after last nights events, he expected not to see riki as he was probably with you.

how did he go from having the girl of his dreams sitting on his lap, to making her hate him even more?

it's simple, really: he fucked up.

he moves through the house like a ghost — rooms too quiet, air too still. no laughter, no music playing off someone’s phone. just him and the rain.

the basement still has the blanket you’d curled up with last night. your mug — half full. he picks it up, and it’s cold. like him.

he tries to call riki. no answer.

he tries to call you.

it goes straight to voicemail.

he types out a text. deletes it. tries again.

“i didn’t mean what i said. i didn’t mean to hurt you. i'm sorry, y/n”

he stares at it. sends it.

and immediately regrets it. because what if you never answer?

as he packs up all his belongings, ready for the uncomfortable drive home, someone enters the house.

heeseung's heart rate picks up. what if it's you? he bolts down the stairs and is ultimately disappointed when he's met with a very disapproving jay.

they stand across from one another, staring into each others eyes.

heeseung's the first to break. he collapses on the bar stool at the counter and drops his head into his hands like it weighs a ton.

jay just sighs and sits down next to his friend.

"is she okay?" heeseung mumbles, his face buried in his hands.

jay’s jaw tightens. "why do you care?" he snaps. "you sure as hell didn’t last night when you said you could never love someone like her."

the words hit hard — harder than jay intended — and heeseung shatters.

the sobs break out of him like a dam giving way, loud and raw. tears stream down his face, and the sound of it makes jay flinch, caught off guard by how real the pain is. how broken heeseung suddenly looks.

still, jay moves without thinking, reaching out and rubbing slow circles on his friend’s back. it doesn’t fix anything, but it softens the edges of the moment.

they sit there in silence, the storm outside echoing the one inside, as heeseung cries himself hoarse.

by the time he’s able to breathe steadily again, nearly an hour has passed. his eyes are red, his voice barely there. he lifts his head and meets jay’s gaze; tired looking into just as tired.

neither of them says much. there’s no need.

finally, jay sighs and stands. “go grab your stuff,” he says quietly. “you’re in no shape to drive. i’ll take you home.”

heeseung doesn’t argue.

because for once, he knows jay’s right.

───

your phone dings.

dni: i didn't mean what i said. i didn't mean to hurt you. i'm sorry, y/n

you stare at your phone. gaze void of emotion. you've cried out everything you could muster.

you don't even know why heeseung's words echo in your head.

were you really that intolerable to be around? surely you weren't. all of heeseung's friends enjoyed hanging out with you and same with your little group.

so why did hearing your supposed enemy say he could never love someone like you hurt so bad?

you suppose you need to distract yourself from thinking that heeseung's words have any sort of impact on you. and that's when your door swings open. riki, yuqi, winter, keeho, sunghoon, jake, sunoo, and jungwon walk into your apartment with food, video games, board games, coloring books, skincare — everything you needed at the moment.

a break.

a break from your spiraling thoughts and endless questions you didn't want answered.

there's a knock at the door, jay comes in after he dropped heeseung off, with a freshly made cake, red velvet. your favorite.

you don’t move at first.

the warmth of your friends floods the apartment — laughter, chatter, the familiar rustle of takeout bags and the buzz of game controllers syncing. but it feels distant, like you’re underwater, watching from behind a thick pane of glass.

yuqi wraps her arms around you from behind, cheek resting on your shoulder. “we got your favorite pork buns,” she says softly.

you nod. you don’t trust your voice.

riki’s the one who notices your phone still clutched in your hand. screen glowing. that message. his message.

he doesn’t say anything, but he takes the phone from you gently, pressing the lock button, letting the screen fade to black. and you’re grateful. because if you kept staring at it, you might’ve started crying again, and you didn’t think you had anything left in you.

“movie?” sunghoon offers, holding up a stack of dvd's none of you ever returned to the library.

“coloring?” sunoo chirps, already spreading out gel pens across your coffee table.

“face masks?” winter insists, already tearing them open.

you let them distract you. you let them love you in the only way they know how — loudly, messily, unconditionally.

there’s a moment, in the middle of the chaos, when keeho makes a stupid joke and jungwon snorts soda out of his nose, that you laugh. actually laugh.

and then it hits you like whiplash — how easily heeseung could’ve been here. how almost close you came to letting yourself believe there was something soft behind his smirks and eye rolls. how you’d dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, the tension between you wasn’t just one-sided delusion.

but then he said it. “i could never love someone like her.”

and even with the people you love surrounding you, something in your chest hurts. like a bruise that won’t stop blooming.

later, after everyone’s settled into pillows and half-finished coloring pages, riki sits beside you. he doesn’t speak for a long time.

then, quietly, “you don’t have to pretend around me.”

and that’s when your lip trembles. just slightly.

“i don’t know why it hurts this much,” you whisper. “i knew he hated me. i knew. so why do i feel so broken?"

“he didn’t have to say it like that,” riki replies, voice firm. “he didn’t have to break something just because he couldn’t admit he wanted to hold it.”

you nod, finally letting a single tear trail down your cheek. riki wipes it away before it can fall too far.

he squeezes your hand.

“he messed up,” he says. “that’s on him. not you.”

you hold onto that — his words, their presence, the comfort of being chosen and cared for.

and for the first time since last night, you breathe. not easily. not painlessly. but it’s a start.

───

heeseung didn't know how hard it would be to try and get any information about you.

how you were doing, if you were okay. anything

your mutual friends? after hearing how massive he fucked up, they sided with you.

sure, jay, jake, sunghoon, sunoo, and jungwon would text him and hang out with him occasionally, but they wouldn't utter a word about you. most of the time heeseung saw them, it would be for awkward movie nights or when they would game together when none of them could sleep.

when he was alone, his mind ached, his chest twisted in pain, but mostly... his body ached.

he tried to stop it, he knew it was wrong.

but when you sat on his lap, something in him shifted.

sure he knew you were pretty (breathtakingly stunning), but he never imagined something he thought about constantly would ever become reality.

he thought back to those 5 minutes. the tension. surely it couldn't have just been made up in his head, right?

the way your entire body tensed when his hands rested on your hips. normally he wouldn't have touched you, but you were shifting and he needed to stop his growing problem before you noticed.

and thankfully it worked.

however, he was already hard as a brick.

his breath hitched as he remembered the look in your eyes — uncertain, but not scared. curious, maybe? or was he projecting again?

he swallowed hard, his hands now clenched at his sides like if he let them loose, they’d betray him again.

five minutes. that’s all it was. but it looped in his head like a damn broken record.

you hadn’t said a word. but your thighs had tensed. and when he shifted, trying to regain his composure, you hadn't moved away — not immediately, anyway.

maybe it meant nothing. maybe you hadn’t even noticed the way his breath had gone shallow or the way he was holding back like his life depended on it.

but god, his body remembered.

he shifted in his bed now, alone, frustrated, angry at himself. this wasn’t who he was supposed to be. he wasn’t supposed to want this — to want you — not like this. not in silence, not in secrecy, not in pain.

but the damage was already done.

and the worst part?

he wasn’t sure he even wanted to stop anymore.

as he stared at his chase atlantic posters, he thought to himself. any guy would get hard when a pretty girl sits on his lap, right? surely it isn't just because he's a pathetic virgin who's had to lie to his entire friend group about how he "gets around."

soon enough, his thoughts were interrupted by the rapidly increasing ache between his legs.

his hands trembled slightly as they hovered over the tent in his shorts. his breathing was shallow, lips parted, eyes half-lidded as if he were caught in some fever dream he didn’t want to wake up from.

he hated how much he needed this.

how much he needed you.

with a low, strangled groan, he finally gave in, palming himself over the thin fabric. the relief was immediate, but it wasn’t enough — it never was. not when the ache ran deeper than just skin. not when every nerve in his body was screaming for more.

he slipped his hand beneath his waistband, hissing through clenched teeth as his fingers wrapped around his thick length, already twitching with need. he was so hard it hurt, painfully stiff and dripping at the tip, slicking his palm almost instantly.

your name burned on his tongue, but he swallowed it back.

he couldn’t say it. shouldn’t say it.

but in his head, it echoed over and over again. your laugh. your voice. the way you looked at him — or didn’t. the way you moved. god, he remembered everything. he was haunted by it.

he shut his eyes tight and let his hand move — slow at first, starting at his base and dragging his fingers up each vein decorating the sides. his patience wore out quicker than he'd ever admit, starting to move up his length, then down with just enough pressure to make his thighs twitch. he bit his lip, hard, trying to hold in the sounds. but as the memory of you shifting in his lap played behind his eyelids like a cruel fantasy, a soft whimper escaped.

he was losing it.

desperation clawed at him with every stroke, every flex of his hand. his hips lifted off the mattress as his muscles tensed. he imagined your fingers replacing his, your body hovering over his, your breath against his neck.

“please,” he gasped into the dark — not even sure what he was begging for. forgiveness? permission? you?

he pumped harder now, faster, chasing that high like it would save him. his other hand gripped the sheets, knuckles white. he was right on the edge, falling apart with nothing but the echo of your presence and the throb of need coiled deep in his belly.

“i need — fuck, i need you,” he moaned, broken and breathless. his body was hot, slick with sweat, twitching under his own touch.

he could feel it. the band threatening to snap at any moment.

he swirled his fingers around his tip, hitting that spot that made his vision go white. he was close.

all it took to unravel him was an image of you, mouth replacing his hand. trying to fit as much of him into your mouth while he just laid there and took it.

eventually the thought was too much, his seed spilled over his stomach in thick, messy ropes, his fist slowing only when the aftershocks wracked his frame like a wave of guilt and pleasure colliding all at once.

he laid there for a moment, chest heaving, skin flushed and sticky.

and then it hit him.

he still wasn’t satisfied.

because it wasn’t your touch. it wasn’t your voice, your kiss, your heat. it was just his hand and a fantasy he couldn't let go of.

and no matter how many times he did this, no matter how many times he used the memory of you…

it was never going to be enough.

───

you’ve held it together for as long as you could — smiled through movie nights, laughed at keeho’s stupid impressions, even ate something other than ramen yesterday. but it’s all surface level. the moment you're alone again, the cracks split wide open.

there you are, sitting on your couch, drowning in your thoughts. 

the faint glow of the streetlamp filters through the windows, further highlighting the text message staring back at you

“i didn’t mean it.” 

it replays in your head over and over like a broken record until your vision starts to blur. tears flood your waterline but you make no effort to stop them. 

you don’t sob. you just sit there, hurting so quietly it’s almost peaceful.

until it isn’t. 

your lip trembles slightly, then it all comes pouring out. 

“why? why did you say that? what the fuck. did i do to deserve those words?” 

riki hears your quiet words from the bathroom. he comes rushing out, empathy and sadness twirling in his eyes. 

“hey, hey, hey, talk to me y/n. yell at me if you need to, yeah?” he says. voice barely above a whisper. all you can choke out is a tiny “no, none of this is your fault.” 

riki sits next to you, holding you, trying to piece you back together as if he were the one who broke you.

disrupting the mellow silence lingering in your apartment, there’s a knock at the door.

not wanting the worst case scenario, you answering the door to heeseung, riki gets up and makes his way to where the sound came from. 

to both of your dismay, a tired heeseung stands in the doorway. 

his hair is messy, dark bags under his usually teasing eyes, looking like he hasn’t slept in days.

he freezes when he sees you. your puffy eyes, shaking hands, the way you curl in on yourself like you’re trying to disappear. 

riki steps in front of you, but you give him the signal to back down. you and heeseung can handle this alone. what’s another argument anyways? 

as riki walks away, heeseung starts slowly “yn…” 

you look at him. and no matter how hard you could have tried, nothing could have stopped you from snapping at him.

“why are you here?”  “i had to see you. i had to say–”  “you already said enough, heeseung.” 

god. the way you say his name. all he’s thought about since you last saw each other was you saying his name. and now, he doesn’t wanna hear it ever again. 

he opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. 

“do you know what it felt like to hear you say i wasn’t lovable? that someone like me could never be enough for you?” 

as if you could read his mind, you shake your head, dismissing whatever he was about to spit out. 

with every last ounce of energy you can gather, you scream. “you don’t get to feel sorry now. you made your choice the other night. i knew we had a mutual hatred, or at least some twisted distaste, but i never even thought about saying something like that to you.”

he doesn’t respond right away. just stands there, frozen. then you hear it. soft sniffles. ragged breathing. sobs.

he breaks.

because this is the first time he gets it. really, truly understands what he did. what he said. what it cost you.

“i’m sorry,” he chokes out, voice cracked and barely audible. “truly. what i said last week… i didn’t mean it. even thinking it broke me.”

you stare at him for a long, quiet second. and then you say it — flat, but shaking.

“you broke me first, heeseung.”

his breath catches. your words land like a punch to the gut, because they’re the truth. maybe the first truth spoken between you in a long time.

heeseung, who’s always so calm. so composed. the one who rolls his eyes at everything and makes everything feel like a joke. he’s crumbling in front of you now. not fighting. not defending. just falling apart.

and then it hits you. maybe he’s always been like this.

watching you. listening. never the first to strike, only ever the one to react. maybe he was never the villain in this story.

your breath hitches. maybe, just maybe, you were wrong.

you don’t know why the realization crashes down now. maybe it’s the sound of his sobs. maybe it’s the way the silence has more weight than anything he’s ever said. but something inside you shifts.

and for the first time, you see him — not as the enemy. but as the boy who let you hate him, because he didn’t know how to ask for anything else.

you replay every argument like a tape stuck on rewind. you were always the one who started it.

the snide comments. the sideways glances. the venom you dressed up as jokes.

heeseung never really fought back. he always matched your energy, sure, but he never escalated it. never crossed a line. not until that night.

your chest tightens. you realize you don’t even remember what the first fight was about. some hallway bump? a misunderstood glance? maybe it was never about anything. maybe it was just you, projecting every piece of your brokenness onto the only person who saw through it and stayed.

god, had he always stayed?

you remember in elementary school, how he used to bring you extra snacks when you forgot lunch. how he gave you his hoodie that one time you were shivering during morning assembly, even after you’d spent the entire week roasting him in front of your friends.

you remember the way his gaze always lingered—not in a way that felt invasive, but like he was always checking. watching over you without saying a word.

and now here he is. slumped into his knees. back pressed against the wall, crying over you.

you were so busy building walls with your bitterness that you didn’t notice it was slowly breaking him. 

the quiet way he tried to reach over them.

you sink to the floor across from him, not close enough to touch, but close enough to feel the weight of everything between you.

for a long moment, you don’t speak. neither does he. you just breathe in the silence together — like it’s the only language you both understand.

“i didn’t know how to stop hating you,” you whisper, voice catching. “because if i stopped… i think i would’ve started needing you.”

heeseung lifts his head. eyes red, lashes wet.

“i already did,” he says. “i never stopped.”

your heart fractures in a way that doesn’t feel sharp, just tired. heavy.

“i don’t know what to do with that,” you admit.

“you don’t have to do anything,” he murmurs. “not tonight.”

you nod. once. then you help him get up. both your legs feel numb, but you walk him towards the door. your hand rests on the handle, taking a second to look up at him. really look at him, and you’re tempted to say something. 

but instead, you give him the quietest thing you can offer: a small, broken sort of smile. not quite forgiveness. not quite goodbye.

then, he steps out into the night. and just like that, the quietness of everything settling in takes over. no more lies. just the truth.

as you’re deep in thought, riki walks in with two mugs of hot chocolate — extra marshmallows, your favorite. 

-ˏˋ⋆ 3 years ago ⋆ˊˎ-  

it’s a chilly summer night. you and riki are sprawled out on the roof of his parents' house, the shingles warm beneath your backs from the day’s lingering sun. crickets hum below. the stars blink overhead, careless and constant.

you shift slightly, seeking warmth, and without a word, riki lifts his arm. you curl into the space beside him, head on his shoulder, fingers tucked into the sleeve of his hoodie. his arm settles around you like it belongs there.

“do you think we’ll ever feel like this again?” you murmur. “peaceful. like nothing’s wrong.”

he hums low in his chest. “you mean without chaos or boys who don’t deserve you?”

you let out a breath, half a laugh. “exactly.”

there’s a pause, the kind that feels thick with unspoken things.

riki’s voice is soft when he finally speaks. “i think… the people who make you feel heavy, like you're constantly questioning yourself, that’s not love, y/n. that’s something else.”

you turn your face slightly to look up at him. he’s gazing at the stars like he’s afraid of admitting he craves the one thing he’s always sworn to never care about. 

“love should never hurt,” he says, quieter this time. “not the kind that stays.”

you don’t say anything right away. you’re too busy memorizing the way the night folds around his words. the way he’s always been a comfort for you, the one to pick you up when you’re falling. 

and in that moment, you believe him. you really do.

you nod once. “then i hope… when it’s my turn, it feels like this. safe.”

riki swallows. “me too.”

-ˏˋ⋆ present time ⋆ˊˎ- 

and now, back in your bedroom, the silence left in heeseung’s absence is deafening.

your gaze flicks toward the window, rain still threading down the glass like tear tracks. your mind lingers on that rooftop — the stars, the safety, the version of you who still believed in soft things.

before all the hook-ups, parties, and one-sided confessions. 

you pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders and whisper. either to riki or yourself, you don’t know.

“you said love should never hurt. i think heeseung missed that memo.”

and god, how you wish you could go back to that night — before the spiral, before the ache.

before the boy who made you feel like an afterthought.

before you let yourself fall over someone you thought you didn’t care about. 

riki leaves after making sure you’re alright, mumbling something about dance practice. 

and again, it’s just you. in the quiet. 

then, almost without thinking, you rip a blank piece of paper out of your journal.

you don’t plan it. it’s just instinct — fingers gripping your pen, waiting for permission your heart hasn’t quite given. but then you start writing.

dear heeseung,

i hated you before i knew how badly i could want you. maybe that’s where it all went wrong. because at some point, i stopped seeing you as the boy who annoyed me and started seeing you as someone i wanted to understand. as someone i wanted to look at me and see me. and for a while, i thought maybe you did. i thought maybe the way you pulled me into your lap, the way you whispered near my ear, the way your hand rested on my waist — i thought maybe it meant something. i thought i was stupid for hating you. turns out i was just stupid for hoping. you said you could never love someone like me. and god, that broke something in me i didn’t know was still whole. because even when i told myself i hated you, there was always that small, traitorous part of me that wondered: what if he doesn’t hate me back? what if it’s more? but it wasn’t. and now i can’t unhear it. you probably didn’t even mean it — not in the way it came out. maybe it was fear, or pressure, or ego. but it doesn’t matter, does it? words don’t get erased just because we didn’t mean them. they echo. and yours… yours are still echoing inside me like a song i can’t shut off. i don’t think i’m mad at you anymore. i think i’m mad at myself. for letting you get close. for not guarding the parts of me i only let out in small doses. for thinking i was different to you. i wish you hadn’t said it. but mostly, i wish it hadn’t mattered so much to me that you did. – y/n

you take out an envelope, neatly fold the paper and stuff it inside, writing a neat ‘heeseung’ on the front of it. 

some truths aren’t meant to be sent. some confessions are only meant for the rain to witness.

and tonight, that’s enough.

───

the second the door shuts behind him, the silence hits like a punch to the ribs.

heeseung stands there for a second too long, staring at the wood grain of your door like it might open again. like maybe you’ll come running after him. like maybe that small, broken smile you gave him wasn’t the end.

but it doesn’t open.

and it was the end.

he starts walking. he doesn’t even remember moving his feet, just that suddenly he’s outside, and the rain greets him like an old friend. cold, sharp, unforgiving. it soaks through his hoodie in seconds, but he doesn’t flinch.

he deserves it. every drop. every chill. every echo of your voice in his head.

“not quite forgiveness. not quite goodbye.”

god, what did he do?

how did he take someone who was literally sitting in his lap, trusting him with the fragile thread of something real — and turn that into this? this mess of silence and space and words he can’t take back?

“i could never love someone like her.”

he had said it so carelessly. so cruelly. trying to deflect the attention off himself in front of your friends, like a coward. like a boy who still thinks protecting his ego is worth more than protecting a heart.

especially your heart.

he wipes his face with the back of his hand, unsure if it’s tears or rain. it’s probably both.

he thinks back to your eyes right before he left. the way you looked at him like he was someone you used to know. like whatever thread was between you had finally snapped.

and the worst part?

he couldn’t even beg you to stay.

because he knows — he knows — he doesn’t deserve it.

he walks home in silence, the city around him buzzing and breathing like it doesn’t care at all about the wreckage inside his chest. his phone buzzes a few times in his pocket, probably jay or jungwon checking if he made it back safely.

but none of it matters.

because there’s only one person he wants to hear from.

and you’ve already said everything you needed to say. in the way you didn’t ask him to stay. in the way you didn’t cry. in the way you simply closed the door.

so when heeseung finally steps into his apartment, soaked to the bone, trembling from more than just the cold, he collapses on his bed, stares at the ceiling, and whispers:

“i didn’t mean it. i swear i didn’t mean it.”

but there’s no one left to listen.

not tonight.

───

heeseung isn’t the center of your world anymore.

not in the way he used to be.

in the weeks that follow, your friends become your anchor. riki never leaves your side. winter brings over matcha lattes and blankets. sunoo paints your nails while jake tells bad jokes. you laugh again. slowly, but surely.

you start writing more letters.

some are angry. some are soft. some are nothing more than wordless scratches of ink on paper.

but one night, you write a letter that feels different.

you don’t even realize what you’re saying until it’s already down:

i wanted you. for a long time. maybe even when i said i hated you. maybe that was the only way i knew how to say it without crumbling. i masked want with rage. affection with sarcasm. love with loathing. you made it easier to run. but i wanted to stay. god, i wanted to stay.

you fold that letter gently. tuck it into your drawer. it doesn’t matter if he reads it. not now.

because healing isn’t about him.

it’s about you.

and you’re getting there.

lately, the weekends have felt lighter. your apartment has become a familiar gathering place again, only now, it’s just the people who stayed. who showed up. who chose you. heeseung hasn’t come around in weeks, and no one really talks about it. not in a cruel way, just in the quiet, understanding way that friendships shift when someone slips out of the picture.

you used to dread saturday nights, used to flinch every time the group chat lit up with plans. used to wonder if he’d show up, if you’d have to spend the night pretending not to notice the weight of his silence, the way your laughter dulled around him. but somewhere along the way, those nights started to feel easier. not because you stopped missing him — but because you started remembering how to miss him without hurting yourself in the process.

your living room is alive with warmth and laughter. the scent of popcorn and mango smoothies drifts through the air. blankets are piled high on the couch, soft pillows strewn across the floor where riki is dramatically throwing himself down after losing yet another round of mario kart to sunghoon, who’s grinning like he just won the olympics.

“cheater,” riki groans, pointing an accusing finger without lifting his head.

“just admit i’m better,” sunghoon replies smugly, stretching his legs across the coffee table like he owns the place.

in the corner, winter and yuqi are dancing barefoot to a chaotic mix of early 2000s pop and indie throwbacks — somehow still synced up to choreography you’d all made up back in sophomore year. their laughter is contagious, unfiltered and bright, and it tugs a smile onto your face before you even realize it.

keeho is halfway through teaching jungwon and sunoo a tiktok dance in the kitchen doorway, voice loud and arms flailing with exaggerated energy. they’re laughing too hard to get the moves right, collapsing into each other every time they mess up. jake, unfazed by the chaos, is blending something suspiciously green in the kitchen, wearing a headband that reads “chef vibes only.”

you’re curled up on the loveseat, blanket wrapped around your shoulders, a half-finished smoothie in your hands. and for once, you’re not scanning the room for him. you’re not wondering what he’d say or how he’d look at you or if tonight would be the night he pulled you aside and finally said something real.

you’re just… here. and it’s enough.

someone throws a pillow at your head, probably riki, based on the cackling, and you lunge to retaliate, laughing as the pillow war erupts across the living room. it’s messy, loud, ridiculous. and it’s yours. this little world you’re rebuilding, one laugh, one night, one breath at a time.

there’s still a part of you that misses him. maybe there always will be. but tonight, that part is small. quiet.

outnumbered by joy.

meanwhile, heeseung is alone in his apartment.

the place is dim. quiet. it hasn’t felt like home in a long time. he's been staring at his phone for an hour now, hoping for a text that doesn’t come.

he thinks about the group chat. the silence from everyone. he thinks about the night he ruined everything. and how, somehow, he still wants to fix it.

he knows an apology isn’t enough. not this time.

he needs to show you, all of you, that he’s not the same guy who let his fear speak louder than his heart.

he just doesn’t know how yet.

but he will. he has to.

because he doesn’t just want forgiveness.

he wants to deserve it.

───

somewhere in the chaos, one of your unsent letters goes missing.

riki finds it by accident. tucked under a cushion, edges worn. he doesn't mean to read it, but your handwriting draws him in, and before he knows it, he's holding your heartbreak in his hands.

he doesn't say a word. just slips it into his pocket and walks away.

a day later, heeseung finds the letter folded on the seat of his car.

he doesn’t recognize the paper at first. but the second he sees your handwriting, his heart drops.

his hands shake as he unfolds it. the silence around him is so loud, he can hear his pulse in his ears.

and then he reads it.

every word. every line. every raw, aching truth you never meant for him to see.

i thought maybe the way you pulled me into your lap, the way you whispered near my ear, the way your hand rested on my waist — i thought maybe it meant something. turns out i was just stupid for hoping. you said you could never love someone like me. and god, that broke something in me i didn’t know was still whole.

heeseung sits there, completely still. letter trembling in his grip.

"fuck," he whispers. "fuck."

he shows up to the next group hangout like his life depends on it.

he doesn’t talk to anyone. not really. not until you walk in.

you freeze when you see him. part of you wants to turn around and leave.

but he doesn’t let you.

he stands. crosses the room.

"can we talk?" he asks, voice low, not demanding, but pleading.

you don’t say anything.

"please. just five minutes. if you still hate me after, i’ll leave you alone. forever."

there’s a long pause.

you nod.

he takes you outside, away from the noise, into the quiet night.

"i read it," he says.

you blink. "read what?"

he reaches into his jacket and pulls out the letter. your letter.

your stomach drops.

"i wasn’t supposed to see it, i know. but... i’m glad i did."

"heeseung—"

"no. let me say this. please."

his eyes are desperate. glassy. his words shaky.

"i lied. that night. i said that because i was scared. because i felt too much, too fast, and didn’t know what to do with it. i thought if i pushed you away, i could kill whatever it was before it killed me."

he takes a step closer.

"but you weren’t just someone i hated. not really. you were someone i couldn’t stop thinking about. you were the highlight of every party, every night, every moment. i was an idiot. but i never stopped wanting you."

your throat is tight.

"you broke me," you whisper.

he nods.

"i know. and i’ll spend every second proving to you that i’m sorry. not with words — with time. with actions. with everything you’ll let me give."

there’s silence.

then you take a breath.

"you’ve got a lot to prove, lee heeseung."

he gives the smallest, hopeful smile.

"then let me start now."

and he does.

not with fireworks. not with promises he can’t keep. but with the small things. the consistent things.

the next morning, there’s a text from him. simple. 

“did you sleep okay?”

you stare at it for a while before replying. 

“yeah. you?” 

“not really. kept thinking about you.”

you don’t answer that. but your heart stirs anyway.

a few days later, he’s waiting outside your class with a drink in his hand, the one he used to make fun of you for ordering (“that’s basically sugar and foam, y/n”), but now buys without hesitation. he doesn’t try to walk you home. doesn’t push. just hands you the drink, offers a soft “you looked tired,” and walks away before you can respond.

he lets you come to him.

at the next hangout, he doesn’t hover. doesn’t sulk. he helps jake in the kitchen, jokes with jungwon, lets the others tease him without biting back. when you walk in, his eyes find you — but he doesn’t pull you aside. just offers a quiet, careful smile. like he’s waiting. like he’s learning how to stay.

one night, you’re struggling with your laundry, balancing way too many bags and a basket of unfolded clothes, and he appears without a word, grabbing half the load from your arms. you glare at him, but you don’t tell him to stop.

he walks with you to the laundry room, helps you separate colors, folds your towels when you’re too tired to finish. “i owe you way more than this,” he says softly. you don’t look at him. “yeah,” you murmur. “you do.”

he doesn’t reply. just keeps folding.

you start to notice it more after that. the way he lingers behind after group dinners to help clean. the way he listens, really listens, when you talk, even if it’s just about the books you’re reading or the music you’ve been into lately. the way he starts learning your rhythms again, not to manipulate them, but to respect them.

one night, you find a note slipped into your bag.

“this isn’t about getting you back. it’s about being someone who deserves to stand beside you. i don’t expect anything from you. just… thanks for letting me try.”

you don’t know what to do with that. but you keep the note anyway.

and maybe the biggest moment doesn’t feel big at all. it’s late. you’re sitting on the floor of your apartment, overwhelmed with everything—assignments, memories, feelings you’ve tried to ignore—and he shows up.

he doesn’t say anything. just sits beside you. close, but not too close. his shoulder brushes yours. your hand trembles. and without looking at you, he says, “you don’t have to talk. just let me sit here.”

and you do.

because he’s not trying to fix you. he’s just showing up. and maybe that’s what love looks like now.

quiet. patient. real.

you don’t forgive him all at once.

but some nights, it’s harder to pretend you don’t want to.

like the night it rains, and you forget your umbrella. you’re standing under the campus archway, clutching your books to your chest, half-considering just running for it, when a quiet voice says, “hey.”

you turn. heeseung’s holding out his umbrella, expression unreadable, hair already wet from the walk over.

“you’ll get soaked,” you mumble, surprised. “i don’t mind,” he says. “but you hate the rain.”

you want to tell him to leave. want to remind him that knowing those things doesn’t mean he’s forgiven.

but instead, you step under the umbrella. shoulder to shoulder. hearts too close. you don’t say a word the whole walk home. but you remember how he always matched his pace to yours. he still does.

───

there’s another time. movie night.

everyone’s over again, sprawled across the living room. you end up between yuqi and jungwon on the couch, but at some point, someone moves, and when you shift, you realize you’re next to him. again.

the movie plays. people whisper and pass snacks and argue over the plot twist. but all you feel is the space between your knee and his. the ghost of warmth where your arms nearly brush.

you don’t move away. neither does he.

and at one point, you laugh at a stupid scene. without thinking, you glance at him, wanting to see if he found it funny too. he’s already looking at you. and for a second, everything stills.

you look away first. but your heart doesn't stop racing for a long, long time.

───

the third moment is softest of all.

it’s late. everyone’s left. you’re cleaning up alone, stacking plates in the kitchen.

you don’t hear him come back until he’s beside you, rolling up his sleeves.

“thought i’d help,” he says gently. you nod. don’t speak.

you’re both quiet for a while, working in sync. something about it feels… familiar. domestic. like home.

then, as you’re drying the last cup, you glance over. he’s watching you, and there’s something in his eyes. something tender. careful. full of things he hasn’t said yet.

“i miss you,” he says softly. 

your breath catches.

you set the cup down.

“heeseung–”

“i’m not asking for anything,” he interrupts, voice thick. “just… i miss you. and i wanted you to know.”

you swallow hard. there’s so much you could say. but instead, you whisper, “i know.”

he nods once. and then he leaves. because he meant it — he wasn’t asking for anything. but that’s the moment you know: you don’t hate him anymore. you never did. 

───

it happens a week later.

a rooftop. stars overhead. winter’s birthday, most of your friends are tipsy on alcohol, sugar and too many karaoke songs. you haven’t had a drop of alcohol, wanting to truly feel everything.

heeseung finds you leaning against the railing, eyes on the sky.

“hey,” he says. you nod and let him stand beside you.

the silence isn’t awkward anymore. it’s soft. steady.

“can i ask you something?” he says, barely audible.

you hum.

“do you still feel it?” he asks. “whatever it was… whatever we had.”

you don’t answer for a long time.

and then, quietly… “i never really stopped.”

he turns. slowly.

your eyes meet. and in them is every apology he’s ever whispered with his actions. every moment he gave you space. every time he showed up when he didn’t have to.

you reach for him first.

your hand brushes his. his fingers curl around yours like a prayer.

and then, finally, he kisses you.

soft. aching. full of every unspoken word, every almost, every could’ve been. this isn’t the kind of kiss that demands anything. it’s a promise. a beginning.

you pull back first, just enough to whisper, “i don’t wanna do this while you’re intoxicated, i don’t want you to regret it.” 

he stares at you before mumbling into your lips.

“y/n, i haven’t had a drink, but it feels like i’m drunk when i kiss you.” 

your heart stops and everything fades into the background. “don’t break me again.” you plead, face inches away from his. 

he presses his forehead to yours.

“never again,” he breathes.

and this time, you believe him.

as he reconnects your lips, his hands tremble slightly where they find purchase on your waist. the night air is cool, but your skin is burning—flushed, alive, and aching in a way you haven’t let yourself feel in so long.

he pulls back just enough to look at you. his eyes flick between yours and your lips, like he’s still not sure this is real.

“we don’t have to,” he murmurs, voice hoarse. “just say the word.”

but you don’t want him to stop. not tonight. not after everything.

so you slide your fingers into the collar of his jacket, tug him closer until your lips brush his again.

“take me home, heeseung.”

and he does.

his apartment is quiet when you get inside, the chaos of the earlier party gone, the night still humming with something electric. you barely have time to kick your shoes off before his mouth finds yours again. hungrier now, more desperate. like all the restraint he’s shown is unraveling, thread by thread.

his hands are everywhere — your hips, your waist, your jaw. like he’s relearning you. memorizing the weight of you against him.

you tug his jacket off, fingers fumbling with the zipper, and he lets out a low, breathless laugh against your neck.

“still impatient,” he teases.

“still hot when you shut up,” you shoot back, and he groans.

you barely make it to the couch.

he sits first, pulling you into his lap like it’s instinct, like he’s needed this for months. your knees straddle him, bodies pressed chest to chest, your hands tangled in his hair as he kisses you like he’s starving for it.

he tilts his head, deepens the kiss, and it’s filthy. slow. wet. your hips roll against his without thinking, and the noise he makes, low and guttural, goes straight to your core.

“fuck,” he groans. forehead against your collarbone. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you arch into him, tug his shirt over his head, and he follows suit, fingers slipping under the hem of yours, eyes flicking up for permission. you nod, and he peels it off slowly, reverently, like unwrapping something precious.

his hands trail over your skin like he’s trying to remember what it feels like to deserve you.

and then his mouth is on your neck, your shoulder, trailing down until you’re gasping his name, your back arching as he presses kisses across your collarbones.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers, like it hurts.

as you reach for his belt wanting to make him feel good, he puts his hand over yours. “there’s something i need to tell you.. before we take anything further.” he says like he doesn’t even want you to know. 

“what is it, hee?” 

god. that nickname. 

it’s what all his close friends call him, however when you say it. he wants to lay the world at your feet. 

“i’m.. uh– a vir-virgin…” he mumbles. you would have missed it had you not been paying close attention. 

you laugh. 

heeseung leans back into the couch, hoping, praying, wishing it to swallow him whole. 

as you observe heeseung, you realize he must be serious. “you’re a virgin? but you– you always used to talk about your hook-ups and how every week it was like you had someone new hanging off your arm??? what do you mean you’re a virgin?” 

he whimpers. he fucking whimpers. “i’m not proud of it, okay? i always came really close to hooking up with girls but i um. i couldn’t you know.. get it… up.” 

you sit there quietly, giving him time to compose himself and continue. 

“everytime i tried to lose my virginity, i couldn’t get hard unless i thought she was you,” he speaks, not gaining enough courage to look you in the eyes. 

you stare at heeseung for a moment, trying to process what he just said. the weight of it settles between you like a delicate secret, and suddenly the playful teasing tone you’d had before feels completely inappropriate.

you can see it in his doe eyes — how embarrassed he is, how much he wants to crawl out of his own skin. the corners of his lips are tugged in a tight line, as if holding in every emotion that threatens to spill out. but you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. it’s soft, gentle, but laced with a teasing warmth.

“you’re a virgin?” you ask, letting the words linger a little longer than they should, pretending to be surprised as if he hadn’t just told you, twice.

heeseung’s face reddens, and you see him shrink further into the couch. you could almost feel his desire to hide, to escape. but you don’t let him. instead, you move closer, shifting between his legs, and place your hand on his thigh. a gentle, reassuring pressure.

“god, heeseung,” you tease softly, your lips curling into a smile that isn’t cruel, but playful. “how could you keep that from me? you’ve been all… big talk and ‘i get all the girls,’ and here you are, this nervous little thing, blushing at the thought of being with me?”

his eyes flicker with uncertainty, but you lean in just enough to press your lips to his ear. you feel him tense under the touch, and the subtle shiver runs through his body, telling you everything you need to know. he’s not as confident as he makes it seem.

“you should’ve told me sooner, you know,” you whisper, your voice low, just enough to make his breath hitch. “i would’ve been patient. we could’ve taken it slow.”

heeseung groans softly, his hands gripping the fabric of the couch like he’s holding onto some semblance of control. you smile knowingly, watching the struggle on his face. but it’s not discomfort — it’s desire. you can feel it in the way his eyes refuse to leave yours, in the way his body reacts to the gentleness in your touch.

“i… i don’t want you to think less of me,” he mutters, barely audible, but you catch it anyway. “it’s just… with you, it’s always felt different.”

you gently trace your fingers up his chest, watching as his breath quickens. you’re giving him space to breathe, to process, and then you lean in, brushing your lips against his in a soft, teasing kiss.

“stop worrying about that,” you say quietly, your lips just barely touching his. “i don’t think less of you. if anything, you’re hotter right now than ever before.”

the vulnerability in his eyes shifts. he’s still nervous, but the weight is lifting. and for the first time in a while, you see him start to believe that he doesn’t need to hide anything from you.

then, you shift your focus, teasing him once more with a playful grin. “but you know, heeseung… i could help you with that. we could take this slow, maybe help you get comfortable with what it feels like to be with me. you trust me, don’t you?”

he nods, slowly, not trusting his voice. he’s ready. maybe more than he thought.

and you take that as your cue. you kiss him again, deeper this time, letting the heat between you grow. his body responds to you almost immediately. hands shifting from nervous to eager, pulling you closer as his mouth moves hungrily against yours.

“let me take care of you,” you murmur, your hands trailing down to his belt. this time, you don’t hesitate. you undo it slowly, giving him time to react, but he doesn’t stop you. instead, he leans back into the couch, peeling his shirt off, chest rising and falling with each shallow breath.

heeseung’s eyes search yours one more time, a silent question in them. you nod gently, giving him permission to be vulnerable, to trust you fully.

and when your hands pull his pants down, you can feel the heat of him, see the evidence of his desire. you take your time, enjoying the way he reacts to each touch, savoring the way he trembles under your hands.

you start by rubbing over his bulge when your eyes widen. 

he just stares back at you, not blinking, but incredibly nervous. “is– is something wrong?” he stutters out. 

“wrong? no, heeseung. you’re huge.” 

he blushes and hides his face in his hands. his veiny hands. you’ll definitely need to put those to use later. 

you softly drag his hands away from his face and tell him to never hide from you. you think he’s beautiful like this. 

after he calms down, you look back into his eyes that resemble a deer, and he nods. signaling you to continue. 

you finally trail your eyes down to his raging hard on, you can almost see it pulse. 

his breath quickens the longer you take to begin touching him.

you start by teasing his swollen tip, arousal evident in the stain on his gray boxers. he sighs heavily, tipping his head back.

as you rub your hand down to his base, you get a feel for how thick he truly is. 

he’s hard. aching. even at the slightest touch, his eyebrows furrow and he holds back soft groans. 

you rip your hand off his clothed bulge. “if you want me to continue, you need to let me hear you, baby.” 

that was his breaking point, he quickly nods his head yes looking at you with pleading eyes, “can you please touch me? it hurts.” 

not wanting to tease him any longer, you rip his boxers off his thighs and his throbbing length slaps against his lower abdomen reaching just above his belly button. precum smears on his abs and you get the urge to lick it off.

so you do.

you gently move his dick away from his toned stomach, swiping your wet muscle along his abs, sucking to leave light marks. 

the noises he makes are downright pornographic, and you think you’ll never be able to hear them enough.

moving your attention back to the hardness in your grasp, you begin to lick up his shaft, tracing each vein with the tip of your tongue. his head is still tipped back, frustrating you a bit because you want his attention on you. 

so… in one swift motion, you take him down your throat until his tip hits the back. his head shoots up and he moans. loud. 

heeseung is in heaven. the feeling of your throat constricting around his cock, he never wants you to pull off of him. he gently pulls your hair into a ponytail, hands shaking when you start moving.

his apartment is filled with filthy noises: wet, loud, and obscene. 

he can hear and feel your gag reflexes kicking in but you don’t budge. you continue to move up and down, not wanting to stop until he cums. 

his tipping point was you taking him even further down your throat, nose brushing his pelvis. he thought you were going to take a break for air but you didn't. 

you stay.

swallowing around him.

the pressure in your jaw is almost unbearable but when you feel his thighs shaking, you know he’s close. and you need to ruin him. 

hollowing your cheeks, you take him a bit deeper, hands coming up to play with his heavy balls. he can’t hold back anymore. the sensation of you taking his whole cock down your tiny throat and the stimulation of his balls in your hands. he groans. 

desperate. low. deep

and spills down your throat. warm, wet, and sticky ropes, pour out of his tip. taking up all the space you had left, some spilling out from the corners of your mouth.

you swallow all that you can, then pull off from his dick. 

heavy breathing is the only thing that can be heard. heeseung threw an arm over his eyes, chest heaving, trying to regain control of his senses.

meanwhile, you haven’t stopped clenching your thighs together. 

you didn’t even notice you were staring until he clears his throat. he just looks so gorgeous all fucked out.

“wow. did you– swallow.. it?” he asks through pants. 

you answer him like it was the most natural thing in the world, “yeah, because it was you” 

he moans, again. and that’s when you notice he’s still hard, still aching. 

as you move to straddle his lap, he grabs your thighs and wraps your legs around his waist. “not here, i want our first time to be special” he says softly, with a kiss to your temple. 

he carries you to his bedroom on wobbly legs and gently lays you down on his bed, hovering on top of you. he plants wet kisses all over your face, trailing down to your neck, collarbones, until he reaches your covered chest.

looking at you with big, lust filled eyes, he waits for your green light. you nod and he fumbles with your shirt then bra clasp, eventually tearing the fabric away. 

“you’re stunning,” he says completely awestruck by your half-naked form. 

as he continues staring, he licks his lips, slowly lowering his head wrapping his soft lips around one of your perky buds. 

you instinctively arch into his touch, one of his hands wrapping around your waist as his other hand gently kneads your other boob. soft gasps and whines slip from your lips as you try to grind up in search of any friction where you need it most. 

he senses your desperate pleas and starts moving his body to slot between your legs, face in front of your clothed core. you wiggle your hips trying to convince him to speed up and touch you where you need it the most. 

“can i…?” he practically begs, “yeah” you sigh as you relax into his plush sheets. he drags your sweats down your soft legs planting kisses along the inside of your thighs, all the way down to your calves. he makes his way to your panty clad pussy, pressing a soft kiss to your bundle of nerves aching for him. 

you don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before.

he looks so good between your thighs, you want this image ingrained into your brain forever. 

he brings his thumb up to press on the wet spot that’s formed on your panties, groaning, “fuck, you’re so wet.” 

“all for you.” 

he replays those words in his head and his patience snaps. tearing your underwear in half, he wastes no time. tongue lapping and the wetness between your legs, like he’s been deprived of any liquid all his life.

you’ve never met someone this desperate to eat you out. or anyone for that matter.

he mumbles against your core, “guide me, please, wan’ you t’feel good, mmh.”

your hands take place in his silky soft roots, gently tugging on the strands. 

through whimpers, you tell him to focus on your clit, and surprisingly (for a virgin), he finds it fairly quickly. 

he briefly sucks on the nub, flicking it with his tongue to soothe it. “fuck, hee” you moan out into the space of his bedroom. 

he groans against your pussy, carefully bringing up his fingers so he can push his tongue into your awaiting hole. the moment he starts fucking you with his tongue, you arch your back and grind into his face, needing more. 

he heard his friends talking about “prep” and “stretching girls out,” so he wonders if you need to be stretched out to take him. you said he was huge, did you mean it? he has no idea, he’s a pathetic virgin who has only shoved his dick into his right hand. not even a pocket pussy or fleshlight. 

to your dismay, he pulls away for a brief second asking if he should use his fingers. “please, i need you to stretch me out, i can’t– take you without prep,” you rush out feeling your high not far away.

“shit, okay baby,” he mutters back before bringing his middle finger up to spread your juices around. 

your hips jerk up when he focuses on your clit, surprised by the stimulation. 

slowly, he pushes his finger in, getting used to the warm sensation of your walls. 

you clench around his thick digit, feeling fuller than when you finger yourself. as he pumps it in and out, you tell him to add another one and he does. 

moaning in relief, you arch into his touch as his tongue finds its way back to your sensitive clit. 

between him lapping like a dog and the feeling of two of his fingers pumping in and out of your tight hole, you feel a familiar band in your stomach building up.

your moans increase and heeseung feels dizzy, taking in all that you give.

he curves his fingers all while sucking on your bundle of nerves, causing you to tip over the edge and that band in your stomach to snap. 

you come crashing down, chanting his name like a mantra as heeseung helps you ride out your high. 

as you lift your head and meet his gaze, he looks more fucked out than you do. hooded eyes, tongue lolled out of his mouth, gaze consumed with lust. you pull him by the collar of his shirt until your lips collide in a mess of tongues and teeth. 

your makeout session unfortunately doesn’t last long as heeseung starts whining into your lips. 

that’s when you realize his cock found your bent knee, not so subtly grinding against it, trying to relieve some of the ache. 

“feeling needy, are we?” you tease, earning a playful roll of the eyes from heeseung. 

pulling back, you drink in his bare torso– he’s always been muscular as he was very popular with the ladies (until he got into bed with them). 

dragging your hand up his chiseled abs, his stomach tenses and his dick twitches. 

you found his second biggest weakness, besides you. his abs. 

deciding to end the teasing there, since you’re also becoming increasingly impatient, you flip him over so you land on top of him with a quiet, “oof.” 

as you settle your bare core on his rock solid cock, you start grinding, placing your hands on his chest for support. 

he can’t hold back the guttural groans spilling from his mouth. not believing you’re really on top of him right now. this isn’t just one of his wet dreams. 

he thought this couldn’t get any better, but when he struggles to get out a weak ask for a condom, you just respond with “no, i’m– on pill. need to feel you. all of you.” 

and to that, he moans, not believing his ears. 

it’s his first time. and he’s about to have sex with YOU. raw. he thinks he’s dreaming. there’s no way you’re real.

you gently angle his dick towards your awaiting hole, sinking down until his fat tip is inside you.

instantly, you both sigh in relief, starting to feel the pressure ease up. 

if you feel a stretch at his tip entering you, you don’t know how you’re supposed to fit all of him inside you. he’s the biggest you’ve seen and he doesn’t even know it.

your attention is drawn back to the man consuming your brain when he whines. “m-more, please.” he’s becoming needier the longer you stay at just his tip but you don’t know how to tell him you’ve never taken a size like him before.

“hee-heeseung i need a sec, you’re– fuck. so thick,” you say between moans. 

his grip on your hips tightens, a silent way of telling you to take your time. 

when you finally deem yourself ready, you sink lower, wanting to speed it up, bracing the stretch to come. 

you feel him pulsing inside you and that’s all you need to sink all the way down, him bottoming out inside you. 

it’s his first time feeling anything other than his hand wrapped around him, and he whimpers, loud. it’s overstimulating in the best way possible and before he knows it you move up to his tip and bounce back down. his dick twitches and you feel it. every vein, every pulse, every movement, even his heavy breathing. 

heeseung, not in control of his movements, bucks his hips up, making another non-existent inch to fit inside your stretched out core. 

you moan soft and loud, eyes rolling back, as the pain turned into pleasure. bouncing faster on his girthy cock, you uncontrollably clench around him, causing heeseung’s grip to tighten. you know it’ll bruise tomorrow, but at the moment, he feels too good for you to care. 

the room smells of sex, and the only sounds that can be heard are skin clapping and your shared noises. 

heeseung must notice your legs becoming tired because before you know it, you’re flat on your back with heeseung on top of you, cock never slipping out from your pussy. 

his large hands grab each of your thighs, pressing them to your chest.

his pace is slow at first, testing the waters, getting a feel for a rhythm. 

as his hands stay pressed to your thighs, he slowly drags out and pushes all of his dick inside you. 

you feel him deeper in this position, a bulge forming in your lower belly. 

when he notices, his eyes stay glued there.

you wonder what he’s looking at but the moment you look down, you’re met with his hand pressing slightly on the bulge causing the loudest moan to leave your lips. 

he signals you to hold your thighs as one of his hands holds himself up and the other focuses on how he can feel his dick inside your guts with every thrust. 

his pace suddenly quickens when you clench hard around him, making his hips stutter briefly. 

endless praises leave his pretty lips, telling you how good you feel, how hot you look laid underneath him, taking whatever he gives you. 

feeling a familiar, yet new sensation building rapidly, you try to warn him that you’re close but somehow, he already knows. “i know baby, let go whenever you want.” he mutters back, feeling just as close to his high.

“fuck– where do you want it?” he rushes out, not wanting to cum inside you if that isn’t what you want. 

but apparently, all the gods are smiling down on him as you release your thighs from the grip you had on them and wrap your legs around his waist. “inside,” you moan. 

and at that, he cums. hard. ropes of his hot, gooey, cum spill inside you. tipping you over the edge.

with a loud groan, clear liquid comes rushing out from you, spraying all over his sheets and lower abdomen. soaking his dick. 

heeseung moans. again. raw and unfiltered at the fact that you just squirted all over him (he’s seen enough porn and heard too many stories from your shared friend group to know what squirting is). 

as you come down from your high, heeseung is somehow still cumming. it spills out of you, creating an even stickier mess on his bed. but he doesn’t care. 

not when you’re beneath him, chest rising rapidly, trying to catch your breath. 

heeseung’s cock is still lodged inside you, holding half of his cum inside you, not wanting it to go to waste. 

as he collapses on top of you, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, holding your trembling body close to his.

you were the first to speak, “i didn’t even know i could do that,” talking about how you squirted all over him. “guess we both had firsts today,” he softly chuckles. 

his breath is warm against your skin, his arm tightening just a little around your waist as if anchoring himself in the moment. you don’t respond right away, too caught up in the quiet thrum of your heartbeat, the lingering warmth between you, the way his fingers begin tracing gentle, absent-minded shapes against your spine.

“i didn’t expect it to be like this,” you murmur, your voice almost lost in the hush of the room.

“like what?” he asks, voice low, like he’s afraid to shatter the calm.

you shift slightly to face him, resting your head more comfortably on his chest. “soft. safe.”

Hheeseung lets out a breath that sounds like relief and something deeper, something reverent. “yeah,” he whispers. “me neither.”

for a while, neither of you say anything. he pulls the blanket higher over both of you, his other hand brushing your hair back with such tenderness that it makes your eyes sting. he presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering like he means it.

“you okay?” he asks, voice still rough from earlier, but softer now, like the edge of him has been smoothed by your touch.

you nod, then glance up at him. “are you?”

heeseung meets your gaze, and something in his expression shifts. vulnerability bleeding through the cracks he used to hide behind. “i am now.”

your heart squeezes.

he licks his lips, nervous. “i’ve been so stupid with you. all this time, i kept pushing and pulling, thinking maybe if i kept it messy, it’d be easier to walk away if i had to.” he pauses, his voice thinning. “but tonight just… made me realize i don’t want to walk away.”

your breath catches. “heeseung…”

“i don’t want this to be a one time thing,” he says, eyes searching yours. “not the sex, not the closeness. i want you. the fights, the tension, the way you drive me crazy and still somehow make me want to be better just by being around you. i’m so in love with you, it hurts.”

your lips part in surprise, and he laughs quietly, self-deprecating and shy. “too much?”

instead of answering, you lean up and kiss him, slow, deep, and full of all the things you couldn’t say until now. when you pull back, you rest your forehead against his, smiling as his thumb brushes over your cheek.

“i’m in love with you too, idiot.”

he grins, wide and a little teary-eyed, and pulls you closer like he’s never letting go.

and you know he won’t have to.

pls reblog & leave feedback <3 hope you enjoyed the read ◡̈

[ @jaeyuniversal ] prod. 250417

bestfriends riki & jake x fem reader

smut please 🙏🙏🙏

PAIRING — ni-ki + f!reader + jake

WARNINGS — there’s somewhat a plot(?), threesome, alcohol, friends/fwb to lovers(???), pet names (lots of good girl’s), oral (both rec & give), double penetration (both holes), raw sex (stay safe), praise, fingering, squirting, creampie, overstimulation, cum eating, some light slapping.

WORDCOUNT — 3.4K

NOTE — pulled this plot out of my ass, i prob didn’t highlight the best friend aspect enough but i hope you can still get it. anyway might be riki biased but like yeah, can u blame me. . i hope i did jake some justice t-t

Another night at a party you didn’t even want to attend. Giselle had insisted, saying you’d regret staying home, but now you were bored out of your mind and couldn’t even find her. She’d ditched you on the dance floor, leaving you to fend for yourself.

Maybe just one drink wouldn’t hurt, you thought, making your way to the kitchen. Grabbing the first cup you spotted, you downed it in one go.

“Woah, easy there,” a familiar voice called out.

You glanced up to see Jake leaning casually against the counter, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

“Don’t start, Jake. I’ve already had a rough night,” you replied, leaning against the opposite counter.

“Left all alone?” he teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement as he tilted his head.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t rub it in,” you muttered, grabbing another cup and sipping slower this time.

Sim Jaeyun. Also known as Jake. You’d met Jake a few years ago through a mutual friend, and things between you had clicked almost instantly. Despite the two-year age gap, he always treated you as an equal, never looking down on you. But tonight, something about him felt different. Maybe it was the alcohol dulling your senses, or maybe it was the way his simple white button-up clung to his chest, the rolled-up sleeves exposing the veins on his forearms. Whatever it was, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Jake moving until he was right in front of you.

“Like what you see, princess?” he teased, his voice low as he stepped closer.

Your breath caught in your throat as you realized how close he was. Trapped between his arms and the counter, you tilted your head up to meet his gaze.

“Hmm. What if I do?” you whispered, your eyes flickering to his lips.

Jake didn’t hesitate. His lips crashed into yours, stealing your breath as his hands deftly took the cup from your grasp and settled on your waist. Your arms found their way around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, earning a deep groan from him as the kiss intensified. The music and the noise from the party faded into the background, leaving just the two of you.

But before you could get lost in the moment, a loud ahem broke through the haze.

“Wow, making out in the kitchen? How classy, hyung,” Riki teased, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

Nishimura Riki—an underclassman Jungwon had introduced to you. From the start, you’d noticed his lingering glances and the way his presence always seemed to hover close. It was obvious he had a thing for you, and though you’d never said it out loud, you didn’t mind. In fact, there had been moments between the two of you—charged and fleeting—that left your heart racing and your mind wandering to dangerous places.

Tonight was no exception. Riki leaned casually against the wall, dressed in a simple Chrome Hearts tank top that clung to his lean frame and a pair of gray sweats that sat low on his hips. His hair was a tousled mess, falling in perfect disarray that made him look effortlessly attractive.

‘God,’ you thought to yourself, biting back a smirk. ‘His hair would be so good to tug on.’

Jake pulled back slightly, still keeping you in his arms, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Bet you’re just jealous I’m kissing her and not you.”

“Please,” Riki scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure I could kiss her better than you. Right, angel?”

Your cheeks burned as both men stared at you, waiting for your response. “O-oh! Uh… well…” you stammered, unable to meet either of their gazes.

Jake and Riki exchanged a look, some unspoken agreement passing between them before Jake grinned.

“Wanna chill in Riki’s room, princess? It’s a lot quieter than out here,” Jake offered, already pulling you along as Riki followed close behind.

“Sure…?” you answered hesitantly, heart pounding in anticipation of what might come next.

You’re not quite sure how you ended up here. Maybe it was the drink, or maybe it was the magnetic pull of staying too close to your two undeniably hot friends. Either way, you weren’t sure if it was a bad idea.

Now, you’re pressed against the headboard, the faint scent of cologne clinging to the sheets around you. Jake’s lips are on yours, his kiss searing and insistent, leaving no room for hesitation. His hands roam your body with a confident ease, each touch sending shivers down your spine. The heat between you is undeniable, and before you can stop it, a soft, needy moan escapes your lips, fueling the fire even more.

“You sure about this, angel?” Riki’s voice cuts through the haze, low and measured, as Jake pulls back slightly to let you answer.

“Mhm. I want you both,” you whisper, your voice breathless yet certain. You reach out to tug the younger boy closer, your fingers curling into his shirt.

Jake chuckles, his tone deep and teasing. “Go ahead,” he says, leaning back into the chair near the bed, his eyes glinting with anticipation.

Riki wastes no time, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s just as heated, his hands traveling to your waist and grazing the bare skin beneath your dress.

“Just take it off,” you murmur, your voice shaky but firm. Riki obeys, pulling your dress over your head in one swift motion, leaving you clad only in a delicate set of white lace bra and panties, ‘Pretty..’ Riki thought.

From his seat, Jake watches intently, his dark gaze roving over your exposed skin. He’s already down to his boxers, his toned abs flexing as he shifts, clearly growing impatient with need.

Now stripped down to your undergarments, you feel suddenly vulnerable, a blush creeping across your cheeks as you instinctively raise your arms to shield yourself.

“No, don’t do that,” Riki murmurs, his voice soft yet firm as he gently pulls your hands away. His gaze holds yours, warm yet possessive. “Let us see you, angel.”

“Mhm, let us take care of you, pretty,” Jake adds, his voice dripping with affection and desire. He moves behind you, guiding your body to rest against his chest. His arms wrap around you protectively as he gently spreads your legs apart, his breath warm against your ear.

Riki positioned himself in front of you, his dark, smoldering gaze fixed on your glistening core. His fingers traced an experimental touch, the light pressure making your body twitch beneath him.

“Look at you, baby. So wet for us, and we haven’t even started,” he teased, his lips trailing slow, deliberate kisses along your trembling thighs.

A soft whimper escaped your lips as you melted against Jake’s shoulder, seeking comfort in his warmth. Jake tilted your chin, capturing your mouth in a deep, consuming kiss, his hands roaming possessively over your body.

Meanwhile, Riki slid your panties down with deliberate care, hooking your legs over his shoulders as his breath fanned over your sensitive skin.

The moment his tongue flicked against your folds, a loud, helpless moan broke from your lips, shattering the kiss with Jake. Your body jerked involuntarily, heat spreading like wildfire through your veins.

“Feels good, pretty?” Jake murmured against your ear, his voice low and sinful. His hands found your bra clasp, effortlessly unfastening it and freeing your breasts to his touch. His fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching them as his lips ghosted over your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses.

Your mind blurred with overwhelming pleasure. Jake’s skilled hands and Riki’s tongue working in tandem left you breathless, your body arching instinctively. One hand tangled in Riki’s hair, pulling a groan from his throat, while the other gripped Jake’s bicep as though to anchor yourself.

“F-Fuck~!” you whined, your voice trembling with need. “N-need more… please,” you begged, your hips rolling against Riki’s mouth.

“What a greedy girl,” Riki murmured, his smirk evident even through his teasing words. He paused just long enough to draw a desperate whine from you. “But since you asked so nicely…”

His thumb brushed over your swollen clit, making you jolt, before his lips latched onto it, sucking with just the right pressure. At the same time, his fingers dipped into your entrance, pushing two inside with ease. The obscene, wet sounds of his movements filled the room as he curled his fingers, hitting the perfect spot that made your cries grow louder.

Behind you, Jake’s deep voice rumbled near your ear. “Don’t forget about me, pretty.” His fingers brushed against your lips, coaxing them open. “Suck.”

Obediently, you parted your lips, taking his fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirling around them as your moans vibrated through you. Jake groaned softly, his free hand sliding down your body, spreading your folds as Riki’s fingers thrust faster, the combination leaving you unraveling.

“Haa… ’m c-close!” you whimpered, your core tightening impossibly as you climbed higher and higher.

“Let go for us, angel,” Riki encouraged, his voice low and coaxing. Jake’s fingers worked your clit as Riki’s thrust deeper, his pace relentless until your body finally shattered.

You let out a high pitched scream. Your release crashed over you in waves, your juices spilling onto Riki’s hand as he leaned down to taste you, his tongue savoring every drop.

“That’s it… good girl,” Jake praised, his hand delivering light slaps to your soaked cunt, sending jolts of pleasure through you. You trembled under their touch, soft whimpers spilling from your lips.

Riki placed a tender kiss against your throbbing clit, the gentleness making you shiver. “Delicious,” he murmured, rising to capture your lips in a heated kiss. The taste of yourself on his tongue made you whine, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck to pull him closer.

You barely noticed Jake moved away until Riki gently maneuvered you onto his lap, his lips never leaving yours as he replaced Jake’s earlier position.

Jake, now fully bare behind you, let his hands slide down his boxers, his cock springing out of its confines, hard and resting against his abs. You moaned softly into Riki’s mouth, tugging at his shirt, eager to feel his skin beneath your fingertips.

Breaking off the kiss, he swiftly pulled off his shirt and pants, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. He reclined back against the headboard, his gaze dark and inviting.

“On your hands and knees, baby,” Riki murmured, his voice low and commanding. He gently guided you into position, his touch firm yet tender.

As you settled on all fours, you felt Jake behind you, now completely bare. His strong hands gripped your hips. His tip brushed teasingly against your entrance, sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

“You good, princess?” Jake asked, his thumbs tracing soothing circles on your hips.

“‘M okay,” you murmured breathlessly, anticipation coiling within you.

“Let us know if it’s too much, alright?” he reassured, his tone gentle. Slowly, he began to press into you, inch by inch. The stretch drew soft moans from both of you, his deep groan reverberating in the space between you as you adjusted to his size.

His hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room. You moaned, your body arching as Jake filled you completely.

Glancing up, your eyes landed on Riki’s hard length straining against his boxers. Slowly, you reached out, sliding them down to free him. Your breath caught at the sight of him, his tip grazing his toned abdomen. A brief hesitation flickered in your chest, but the burning desire quickly overpowered it, broken moans spilling from your lips as Jake drove into you relentlessly.

Noticing your pause, Riki smirked, his fingers brushing tenderly over your cheek. “You can take it for me, right, baby?” he murmured, his voice like honey, soft yet dripping with confidence.

Swallowing your nerves, you nodded, leaning forward to press a kiss to his tip. Slowly, you parted your lips, taking him into your mouth. Riki’s head fell back, a low, guttural moan spilling from his lips as your warm tongue teased over him.

His fingers tangled in your hair, guiding you with a steady, deliberate touch. At first, his movements were gentle, but as you took him deeper, his breathing grew heavier, and his grip tightened just enough to encourage you further.

The overwhelming sensation of their cocks filling you had your head spinning, waves of pleasure surging through your trembling body. Your muffled moans sent vibrations along Riki's length, drawing a low groan from him as he bucked his hips slightly, his restraint fraying with each passing moment. Every sound, every movement, heightened the intensity, pushing you closer to the edge.

Riki’s pace quickened, his hips rolling as he thrust into your mouth, his voice rough with need. “Fuck, sorry, angel. Your mouth feels so good—you can take it for me, yeah?” he murmured, his grip tightening in your hair as his cock brushed the back of your throat.

You gagged briefly, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, but the pleasure dulled any discomfort. The way he groaned your name sent a rush of heat through you, spurring you to take him even deeper.

Behind you, Jake groaned as he began to pick up his pace, his hands gripping your hips firmly. “Her pussy’s so tight, Ki,” he growled, his hips snapping into you with a steady rhythm. “Taking me in so perfectly.”

Your moans are muffled around Riki’s cock, your throat working to accommodate him as drool trickled from the corners of your lips. Jake’s thrusts grew deeper, his movements precise as he found your g-spot.

“Oh?” Jake teased, feeling your body clench around him. “Right there, huh?” He angled his hips, making sure to hit that spot repeatedly, drawing choked sounds from you as your eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“Such a good girl, taking us both,” Riki murmured softly, his thumb stroking your flushed cheek as his hips continued their relentless rhythm. He gazed down at you, a hint of admiration in his voice. “You look so pretty like this. Are you close, baby?”

You nodded weakly, unable to speak, humming around Riki’s cock as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. The vibration sent a shudder through him, and his voice grew more strained, his own release teetering on the edge.

“Cum for us princess,” Jake replied, his pace becoming erratic as his fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles in time with his thrusts.

The pleasure became too much to handle, and your body tensed as you tipped over the edge. Your release came in waves, your walls clenching around Jake as he groaned, his own climax following quickly. Warmth flooded you as he spilled inside, filling you completely. At the same time, Riki’s release spilled down your throat, his hands tightening in your hair as his moans filled the room.

You pulled back from Riki’s cock, swallowing every drop before opening your mouth to show him. “Good girl,” he murmured, his thumb grazing your lips in approval.

Jake slowly pulled out of you, a mix of his release and yours dripping from your folds. You took deep breaths, trying to come down from your high. Jake gently helped you lay down, and you instinctively turned onto your side as they both settled beside you—Riki in front, Jake at your back. Your hand began pawing at Riki’s chest.

“Want you inside too,” you whined, draping your leg over his hips.

“You sure you can take it, baby?” Riki asked, his tone soft, his hands steadying your hips.

You nodded, humming softly as you reached down to guide his cock to your entrance. He got the message, pushing inside you slowly. Though Jake had stretched you before, Riki’s size was overwhelming, reaching deeper and making you sigh in bliss.

You heard him groan under his breath, his voice low and gravelly. “Fuck, you’re so tight...”

Turning your head, you glanced back at Jake, your eyes heavy with want. “Want you too,” you murmured, your voice trembling with need.

Jake smirked, brushing your hair back with surprising tenderness. “Gotta prep you first, sweetheart,” he whispered, his fingers tracing down your spine. “Got any lube?”

“It’s in the drawer, hyung,” Riki answered from behind, his voice thick with restraint. He shifted against you, his shallow thrusts betraying his impatience as he struggled to hold back. Each movement sent a soft moan tumbling from your lips, the anticipation curling in your stomach like a spark waiting to ignite.

Jake retrieved the lube, squirting some onto his fingers before gently probing your tight hole. His touch was careful, his fingers moving with slow precision to loosen you up, while Riki caressed your hips to counter any discomfort.

Once Jake was satisfied, he aligned himself with your other entrance, pushing in slowly. You moaned loudly, the sensation of being filled by both men leaving you trembling and breathless.

Your hips began to move instinctively, but they quickly stopped you, holding you still. Riki hooked your leg over his arm, his eyes dark with desire.

“Just stay still and take what we give you, baby,” Riki said, his voice low and commanding as he started thrusting into your pussy.

Jake followed, his movements timed with Riki’s so they alternated thrusts. The squelching sounds of their movements mixed with your moans, filling the room. A creamy ring coated Riki’s cock, a mix of Jake’s release and yours, as both men moved relentlessly inside you. Your body trembled with overstimulation, hands clutching Riki’s biceps desperately, soft moans spilling uncontrollably from your lips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” Riki groaned, his thrusts growing more erratic.

“Mhm.. only for you,” you whimpered, trembling as pleasure coursed through your body.

Jake chuckled lowly behind you, his lips brushing against your ear. “What a good girl… no one can make you feel this good, right, princess?” he teased, his voice a sinful growl as his hand tightened on your waist.

“N-no… just you two,” you stammered, your voice barely audible through the haze of pleasure. Riki smirked, leaning down to kiss you as his pace quickened.

“That’s right, baby. You’re ours,” he whispered against your lips before pulling away.

Their thrusts grew harder, Riki filling your pussy while Jake claimed your ass, stretching you to the brink. The pressure built quickly, pleasure overwhelming as they moved in sync, driving you closer to the edge.

“Gonna cum for us, angel?” Riki murmured, his fingers brushing over your clit in tight circles.

You could barely form words, nodding frantically as your body tensed. “Y-yes!” you cried out, your voice breaking into a sob of pleasure.

“Come on, princess, let go for us,” Jake coaxed, his pace relentless as he leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder.

The tension in your core snapped, and you screamed their names as your orgasm tore through you, your walls clenching tightly around Riki and Jake. Your body trembled violently, the pleasure washing over you in waves.

Riki cursed under his breath as your pussy milked him, his hips snapping into you one final time as he came, filling you with his warmth. Jake groaned deeply, his own release spilling into you as his movements stilled, the three of you collapsing into a tangled mess of limbs and heavy breathing.

“Good girl,” Riki murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your damp forehead as he kissed you softly.

Completely spent, you collapsed onto the bed, your body trembling from the aftershocks. Their cocks still inside you, the mix of fluids leaving you sticky but utterly satisfied.

As you nestled between them, their warmth lulling you into a state of blissful exhaustion, Riki’s voice broke the silence. “Think you can handle one more, angel?”

Jake grinned, his lips brushing tenderly against your shoulder. “Just one more, pretty… you’ve been so good for us. You can do it, yeah?” His voice was soft, almost coaxing, but his words sent a shiver down your spine.

Both of them were already moving again, their thrusts relentless, the lewd sound of skin meeting skin and slick noises filling the room.

“F-Fuck, can’t—!” You whined in overstimulation, your cries quickly muffled by Riki as he captured your lips in a desperate, heated kiss.

“Just one more, princess. That’s okay, right?” Jake whispered in your ear, but you knew it wasn’t. They wouldn’t stop until they’d pulled every last tremble, every broken moan from you, until your mind was hazy and all you could do was babble about how good they felt.

Their names spilled from your lips in a breathless chant, the pleasure crashing over you in waves, leaving you utterly spent, trembling, and completely undone in their arms.