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Fragments of Us - Chapter 2. | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut (minors fuck off, in the nicest way possible)

warning(s): mentions of drinking, kissing, swearing, yn struggles with finding happiness, fluff (yn and new boo are too cute), DK yells at yn, jihoon and yn get into it pretty bad. EVERYONE IS ARGUING OKAY!!!

summary: two years after a messy breakup, seungcheol and yn reconnect unexpectedly.

word count: 6.6k

start date: nov. 20, 2024

end date: -

I roll over in bed, groaning softly as I squint at the clock on my nightstand. The bright red digits read 9:17 AM. It's later than I planned to wake up, but there's no real urgency. I have the next few days off—a rare self-given break—and I've decided to dedicate today to self-care. The idea of no obligations, emails, or expectations feels like a gift.

With a sigh, I throw off the covers and stretch, savoring the small pops in my spine. The cool air of my room prickles against my skin as I shuffle toward the bathroom. My reflection in the mirror greets me with an unruly mess of bedhead and dark circles under my eyes, but I'm too tired to care. After a long, hot shower that leaves me feeling more like myself, I brush my teeth and throw on my favorite oversized sweater. It swallows my frame in a comforting way. I step to the mirror and see my reflection looks slightly less disheveled now—a small win.

Feeling a bit more alive, I head to a nearby café/bookstore I haven't visited in what feels like forever. It's been a year, maybe more since I last set foot in that little haven. It used to be my second home when I first moved into this neighborhood—a place of quiet comfort where the scent of old books mingled with freshly brewed coffee. The thought of returning excites me. I wonder if it still feels the same or if time has changed it in ways I won't like.

The air outside is crisp, the faint smell of rain lingering from last night's storm. A short walk later, I push open the café's door, a small bell tinkling overhead. The warm aroma of coffee hits me instantly, along with the faint hum of a record player in the background. Nostalgia washes over me.

Then, a familiar voice pulls me from my reverie.

"My eyes must be deceiving me. I haven't seen you around in a while! Where the hell have you been?"

I look up, and there he is, Kim Subin, standing behind the counter with that signature mischievous grin.

Kim Subin was one of the first people I met after moving here. He's a quirky yet soft-spoken guy with a knack for making you feel at ease. He's slender, with sharp features and an effortlessly attractive air about him. I've always thought he looked like someone who wandered out of a dream. Did I also mention how attractive he is?

"Oh, you know. Around," I reply, offering him a slight smile.

His eyes narrow playfully. "Started to get worried about you. You look good," he says, scratching his head in a way that almost seems shy.

I glance down at my outfit—an oversized sweater hanging off my shoulders, well-worn jeans, and scuffed Converse. It's hardly an ensemble worth complimenting. "Do I?" I say skeptically.

"I mean, yeah. You always do," he says quickly. His words feel honest, though the awkwardness in his tone makes me tilt my head curiously.

"Was that weird?" he stammers, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink.

"Kim Subin, are you flirting with me?" I tease, unable to suppress a chuckle. His eyes widen in panic.

"What? No! I mean, not that you're not—you're—"

"I'm joking!" I cut him off, laughing softly. "But thanks. I'll take the compliment."

"You are evil," he laughs, his tension easing.

"Only sometimes," I reply, slipping behind the counter and settling on the stool next to his—a habit I formed during my many visits here. "So, how have you been?"

He shrugs, already stacking a pile of returned books on the counter. "I've been okay. But I miss you hanging around. Seriously, where've you been? The crew was starting to get worried."

I hesitate before responding. "Ah, you know. Just here and there. I've had a lot going on, and I needed some time alone."

He swats my hand away when I try to help with the books. "Don't do that—I'll get fired. Are you okay, though?"

"Yes and no."

His brow furrows as he sets the books aside and leans in slightly. "Care to elaborate?"

I take a deep breath, debating how much to share. "Not to trauma-dump, but... my dad passed away a few months ago. I've just been trying to deal with that, among other things. But I'm doing better now. Promise."

His hand freezes mid-motion, and his expression softens into something almost heartbreaking. "Don't say it," I add quickly, holding up a hand to stop whatever sympathetic words are forming on his lips. "I'm really okay."

The smile he offers me is faint but sincere. "I know you say you're okay, but if you ever aren't, I'm here. Seriously."

"The store's open 24/7?" I tease, earning a laugh from him.

"Don't be a pain in the ass. I'm trying to be serious."

"I know. Thank you, Subin. I'll keep that in mind."

He nods and excuses himself to shelve the books. As I watch him walk away, I can't help but smile. Subin has always been like that—a calm, steady presence who listens without prying. Sometimes, that's all you need.

The café looks different than I remember. The old leather sofa near the window has been replaced with a plush forest-green loveseat, and the harsh fluorescent lights have been swapped for warm, ambient lighting. It feels cozy, inviting—more so than ever before. I let myself get lost in the new details until a buzz in my pocket pulls me back.

New Message: Not Donkey Kong 😔 Plans tonight?

I glance up at Subin, who's now struggling to shove a book onto a high shelf, and smile before typing a reply.

Me: Actually, yes.

New Message: Not Donkey Kong 😔 You're lying.

Me: I promise. I'll fill you in later. Love you! New Message: Not Donkey Kong 😔 🤨🤨🤨

Sliding my phone back into my pocket, I turn just as Subin returns, a curious look on his face. "What are you so smiley about?"

"What are you doing later?" I counter, grinning.

"Um, nothing?"

"Perfect! Let's go out!" I declare enthusiastically.

"It's Monday..." he says, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, you're no fun," I pout dramatically.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Where are we going?"

"Give me your phone." I extend my hand, and after a moment of hesitation, he digs it out of his pocket. "Thank you! I'll text you the details later. I have to go grocery shopping now. See you later!"

Before he can protest, I hop off the stool and skip out the door, excitement bubbling in my chest.

That evening, we find ourselves standing in front of Lotte World. Subin surveys the massive amusement park, his expression equal parts surprise and amusement. "Lotte World?" he asks.

"Too much?" I ask nervously, biting my lip.

"No," he laughs. "Just not what I expected. Good thing I dressed... appropriately."

I glance at his casual jeans and hoodie and smile. "Perfect!"

"You're in for a treat. Come on, I know what to do first," he says as we interlock our fingers subconsciously.

We stop in front of the racetrack, and my eyes immediately go wide, sparkling with excitement. Brightly colored go-karts are lined up, and the smell of rubber fills the air. It's exhilarating. My hands clasp together instinctively, and I bounce on the balls of my feet like an overenthusiastic child spotting their favorite candy in a store window.

"I figured you'd like this," Subin says, his voice laced with laughter as he watches my excitement spill over.

"You're so predictable," I tease, unable to keep the grin off my face.

"Predictable? Or thoughtful?" He raises an eyebrow, feigning offense.

"Depends. Are you ready to lose?"

Subin chuckles, shaking his head. "Lose? L/N, please. You're talking a big game for someone about to eat my dust."

I scoff dramatically. "Bold words, Kim. Bold words."

We head over to claim our go-karts, and as we settle in, I notice him chuckling to himself. His laughter is soft at first, but it quickly builds into something uncontrollable, the kind of laugh that has his shoulders shaking.

"What's so funny?" I ask, narrowing my eyes suspiciously.

"You. You seem hopeful," he replies, barely able to get the words out through his laughter.

"You sure are laughing a lot for someone who's about to get their ass handed to them," I say, smirking.

"In your dreams!" he fires back.

The attendant signals for us to get ready, and the countdown begins. My heart races with anticipation as I grip the steering wheel tightly.

Three. Two. One. GO!

As soon as the light turns green, I slam my foot on the gas pedal and take off with a loud whoosh, leaving Subin behind. I glance over my shoulder and burst into a fit of triumphant laughter as I see him fumbling to get his kart started.

"See ya!" I shout, my voice carrying over the roaring engines.

For a moment, I revel in my lead, navigating the first turn with ease. The wind whips against my face, and my chest swells with pride. But my celebration is short-lived. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a streak of movement—Subin's kart.

He's catching up.

"Not today!" I mutter under my breath, leaning forward as if that'll somehow make my kart go faster.

But my determination wavers when, with a cocky smirk plastered across his face, he zooms past me, his kart screeching around the next corner.

"Later, loser!" he yells, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

"Boooo!" I shout after him, though I can't stop the laugh that escapes me.

With my competitive streak ignited, I pushed my kart to its limits, desperately trying to close the gap between us. The next few laps blur together as I alternate between shouting playful insults and laughing hysterically whenever Subin glances back to taunt me.

At one point, I get close enough to almost overtake him, only for him to block my path with a quick swerve.

"Dirty move!" I holler.

"All's fair in love and racing!" he calls back, his voice carrying over the sound of the engines.

I can't even be mad—I'm having way too much fun.

By the time the final lap comes around, my arms are sore from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, and my cheeks ache from smiling so much. Despite my best efforts, he crosses the finish line first, throwing his arms up in victory.

The race attendant waves us over, and I pull my kart into the parking area, pouting dramatically as I climb out.

"You cheated," I declare as he approaches, his face lit up with the kind of grin that could rival the sun.

"Cheated?!" he repeats, pretending to be scandalized. "Nah, I just think you're too slow."

"Slow?! Please. You were probably sabotaging my kart," I argue, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Oh, sure. I secretly rigged your kart to go slower. Totally plausible," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

I narrow my eyes at him. "You're lucky I'm a good sport."

"A good sport?" He raises an eyebrow. "You're pouting like you just lost a national championship."

I gasp, feigning outrage. "I am not pouting!"

"You totally are," he counters, grinning as he pokes my cheek playfully.

In retaliation, I swat his arm lightly, and he laughs, the sound warm and contagious.

"Admit it," he says, leaning closer. "You had fun."

I roll my eyes but can't suppress my smile. "Fine. I had fun. But I still think you cheated."

"And I still think you're just slow," he teases, earning another playful slap on the arm.

"Don't push your luck, Kim," I warn, though my tone is anything but serious.

Subin simply grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Ready for the next ride, loser?"

"Only if you're ready to lose," I retort, already feeling the excitement building for whatever comes next.

The rest of the night unfolds like a fever dream, surreal and too fragile to touch. We start with the swinging pirate ship, its dizzying arcs making my stomach drop and my laughter bubble out in a way I haven't heard in... months? Years? Subin laughs beside me, carefree and bright, his voice cutting through the screams of the other riders. For a second, I let myself forget.

Forget the quiet void my father left behind just a few months ago. Forget the ache that reared its head when I got a call from an unknown number, telling me Seungcheol had been in a car accident. I don't even know why I went. Maybe it was muscle memory, or guilt, or that strange pull that never fully went away, even after two years of silence.

"Go live a little," Sonya had told me right before I left her apartment the night I confronted her about the engagement. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. You deserve to breathe, to laugh, to feel human again."

So here I am, taking her advice, sitting next to Subin as we stagger off the ride and wander toward the churro stand. I dust sugar off my fingers absentmindedly, watching the crowd buzz around us.

"This is the first time in years I've let myself have fun," I blurt out, the words slipping out before I can second-guess them. "Thank you, Subin."

The vulnerability in my own voice catches me off guard, but Subin doesn't miss a beat. His gaze softens, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by something warmer. He steps closer and wraps me in a quick, secure hug.

"You deserve it," he murmurs, his tone simple but firm as if daring me to argue.

And I can't. Not with him.

Later, we rent one of those glowing moon boats, the lake stretching out around us like a pool of melted neon. The lights from the park shimmer on the water, soft and otherworldly, as we drift lazily in the cool night air. The breeze sends a shiver down my spine, and before I can adjust, Subin shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over my legs.

"What a gentleman," I joke, trying to inject some fun into the moment.

He grins, his dimple flashing. "Only for you."

The boat rocks gently, and the quiet between us feels like it's holding something. I glance at him, the sharp angles of his profile softened by the carnival lights. He catches me looking but doesn't turn away.

That's when it hits me, sharp and sudden: I think I like him.

The thought is like stepping too close to the edge of a cliff. My chest tightens, my pulse quickens, and my brain scrambles to keep up. No. No, this isn't safe. Not now. But the way he's looking at me like I'm more than just the broken pieces I've been carrying around makes me want to lean in despite myself.

The last time I felt anything like this, it fell apart. With Seungcheol, it started with sparks but ended with silence, with words unsaid and wounds unhealed. The hospital visit reminded me of that, of how easily something beautiful can shatter.

But Subin isn't Seungcheol. And even though the thought terrifies me, it also stirs something tender, something hesitant but alive.

I shift my gaze to the water, hoping he didn't notice the way my breath hitched. He says nothing, just sits there with that quiet steadiness of his, as if he knows I need the space to figure it out.

And I do. Because for the first time in years, I'm not just surviving—I'm feeling. And it's terrifying. And it's exhilarating. And it's him.

We head back to the car, the cool night air wrapping around us like a blanket. The sound of distant chatter and occasional laughter from other people enjoying the evening fades as we reach his car. For a moment, we just stand there, talking. It's light and easy, the kind of banter you fall into without even thinking about it. But then, I notice it again. Subin's eyes flicker to my lips. It's subtle, barely noticeable, but it's the millionth time tonight, and I'm not one to ignore such a pattern.

A boldness I didn't know I had bubbles to the surface, and before I can second-guess myself, I speak.

"If you're gonna kiss me, just do it already," I say, my tone confident even as my heart pounds in my chest. His eyes widen, just for a second, before a slow, mischievous smile spreads across his face. A low chuckle escapes his lips.

"You sure?" he asks, his voice teasing but with an undercurrent of something deeper.

"Oh, for the love of God," I groan, half laughing, before l lightly grab the back of his head and pull him toward me.

The moment our lips meet, it's like everything else fades away. The kiss is soft at first, exploratory, but it quickly deepens. His lips move against mine, and it feels electric-like, something I didn't know I'd been craving until now. He steps closer, and I instinctively step back, my back pressing against the car. The cool metal contrasts the warmth of his body as he leans in, his hands making their way to my waist.

His touch is firm but not aggressive, just the right amount of pressure to make my head spin. Without thinking, I tug lightly on his hair, eliciting a low groan from him that sends a shiver down my spine. One of his hands moves, hesitating for a moment before giving my ass a light squeeze. The action catches me off guard, and I laugh into the kiss. He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against mine, both of us breathless and grinning.

"Let's go," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, stepping back, and we both climb into the car. The ride back to my apartment feels longer than it should, the tension between us lingering in the confined space. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and every time I catch his gaze, I can't help but smile.

When we finally park, I almost sigh in relief, eager to shake off the tension and let the night end on a high note. But as we make our way up the stairs to my apartment, I hear familiar voices.

"What the hell..." I mutter, confused.

As we reach the top of the stairs, my suspicions are confirmed. Sonya, Jihoon, and Dokyeom are standing outside my door. Their conversation ceases the moment they see me, and their eyes go wide.

"Um, hi?" I say, raising an eyebrow.

"Where the hell have you been?!" DK demands, his tone half accusing, half relieved.

"Lotte World," I reply, my voice bright and unapologetic.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" he whines, pouting.

"You change your code?" Sonya adds.

"I did tell you I had plans, and yes, I did," I counter, crossing my arms.

"Yeah, but I thought you were lying and just wanted to stay home alone," he says, sulking.

I glance between the three of them and chuckle. "I guess that explains why you're all standing here like you've seen a ghost."

"Who's that?" Jihoon asks, nodding toward Subin, who shifts uncomfortably behind me.

"Oh, everyone, this is Subin. Subin, meet everyone," I say, gesturing between them.

"Hello, everyone," Subin says, giving an awkward little wave.

For a moment, the air is thick with silence. Subin looks like he'd rather be anywhere else, and I don't blame him. He clears his throat.

"I'm gonna... go," he says, taking a small step back.

"No, you don't have to-" I start, but Dokyeom cuts me off.

"I planned on staying for a bit. How about you guys?" he asks, turning to Jihoon and Sonya, who nod in agreement.

I glare at them, but they feign innocence. Subin looks at me apologetically.

"I'll see you later?" he says softly.

I sigh and nod. "Yeah, I'll text you. Thanks for today."

He smiles before walking away, and I watch him disappear down the stairs before turning back to my friends.

"Alright, what's going on with you guys?" I ask as I unlock the door and usher them inside.

Sonya crosses her arms, her expression demanding answers. "Who was that, really?"

I roll my eyes. "I told you. Subin."

"No, yeah, I got that. But who is he?" she presses.

"Whoa, calm down, Mom," I say sarcastically. "He's...a friend."

"I've never heard that name before," Jihoon adds, his tone skeptical.

"He works at the bookstore I always go to," I explain.

"Hm," DK says, drawing out the sound like he doesn't believe me.

"Dokyeom, I told you I had plans. Seriously, what is your problem?"

"Min and I have been calling you nonstop," Sonya says.

"Your phone kept going to voicemail. We got worried."

"Oh." I glance at my bag, remembering my dead phone. "My phone died. Sorry. But as you can see, I'm fine."

"I see that," DK says, smirking.

"Don't do that," I warn, narrowing my eyes.

He raises his hands in mock surrender, but the grin on his face says otherwise.

"Guys," I say, exasperated. "I don't need you checking in on me 24/7, okay?"

Sonya's expression softens, but only slightly. "Last time you didn't answer your phone or call back, I came to check on you and-"

"Sonya," I interrupt, my tone sharp. "Don't."

Jihoon and DK exchange curious glances, but I shake my head, silently pleading with them to drop it.

Dk's eyes suddenly light up, his grin widening. "Wait a second. Did we just... cock block you?!"

"What?! No!" I exclaim, my cheeks heating.

"Oh my God!" Sonya says, her voice gleeful. "You were about to get laid!"

"I was not!"

"How long have you two been seeing each other?" Jihoon asks his tone a mix of curiosity and something colder.

"It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, okay?"

"Right," he says, clearly unconvinced.

I hesitate before muttering, "Okay, fine. We might've... kissed."

"I knew it!" DK shouts, throwing his arms in the air.

"Oh my God," Sonya and Jihoon say in unison, though their tones couldn't be more different-one excited, the other disapproving.

"Guys, calm down," I say, trying to regain control of the situation. "It was just a kiss. A good day. We got caught up in the moment, that's all."

"Bullshit," Sonya says, grinning. "You like him."

"I do not!"

"Look at her! She's blushing!" DK exclaims, rushing over to pinch my cheeks. "My baby is growing up!" I laugh despite myself, swatting his hands away.

"Listen," I say, rubbing my temples. "It's been a long day. Can we table this conversation? I'd like to shower and unwind."

"Fine," DK says, but he points at me. "I want details. Full details."

I nod absentmindedly, but my eyes drift to Jihoon. He hasn't said much, but his silence speaks volumes. His expression is unreadable, and it unsettles me.

"Hey, Ji," I say softly as the others head toward the door. "You okay?"

His jaw tightens. "Are you just going to throw away everything you had with Seungcheol?"

The question hits me like a slap. My chest tightens, and I stare at him, hurt and angry.

"That's not fair," I say quietly.

"I'm just saying," he starts, but I cut him off.

"No. You don't get to do that. You, of all people, don't get to judge me. Whatever Seungcheol and I decide is between us, not you."

Jihoon exhales sharply. "I think you're both being ridiculous. I mean come on! You were engaged for fucks s-"

"No, Ji! It's no secret he's trying to move on, and guess what? So am I, okay? I think I speak for both of us when I say the last two years have been miserable. Miserable. But today—today has been the best day I've had in so long, and you don't get to take that away from me. I get it, alright? You had this perfect plan in your head, this fantasy where we'd all stay together forever, like the old days—you, me, Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and DK. But guess what? Life doesn't work that way. Things happen, people change, and you need to accept that. Why can't you just be happy for me? Why can't you see that I'm finally happy?" I cut him off, my voice trembling with frustration.

For a moment, he doesn't respond and seems conflicted.

"Look, Jihoon-" I start, but he shakes his head.

"Fuck this," he says and then walks off.

"Jihoon!" I yell, but he disappears down the stairs.

"Fuck this," I say mockingly and close the door.

Later, lying in bed, I can't stop replaying the argument. My fingers hover over my phone's keyboard, debating whether to text Jihoon. But before I can decide, a message from Subin pops up.

Subin: Well, that was awkward...

I laugh, the tension in my chest easing.

Me: Trust me. Be glad you left when you did. Subin: Uh oh. Did I get you in trouble? Me: Nothing I can't handle. Don't mind them. They're just looking out for me. Subin: Well, for what it's worth, I had a lot of fun today. Sooo... I want to return the favor. What are you doing Friday? Me: I have a feeling you're about to tell me. Subin: Guess you'll have to wait and see... Goodnight, YN. Me: Goodnight, Subin.

As I put my phone down, I catch myself smiling. For the umpteenth time, it feels like things might actually be okay.

"Kim Subin," I whisper, the name rolling off my tongue like a secret, before I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.

“What do you mean we're not having a sleepover anymore?!" DK yells through the phone, his voice loud enough to make me wince.

I roll my eyes and sigh. "Seriously, Kyeomie? It's not a big deal."

"Is this because of that stupid argument between you and Jihoon?" he presses.

"So you heard, huh?"

"YN, it's not like you live in a soundproof fortress. Of course, we heard everything. And honestly, it didn't take a genius to figure out something happened. Ji was pissed when he got to the car," he explains.

"Well, I don't know why. He started it," I snap, feeling my irritation rise.

"Cut him some slack, YN," DK says, his voice softening. "He's just trying to adjust to everything. It's been a weird week, and even if he pretends otherwise, he's struggling. Coping with you being gone and suddenly appearing again isn't exactly easy for him. You were...are his best friend."

Hearing that stings more than I want to admit, but I shove the feeling aside. "Yeah, well. You're not treating me like shit or being a jerk about me trying to move on," I retort.

"You two are so fucking annoying! You fight like siblings. Can you just make up and move on already?" he groans.

"Not unless he apologizes. And honestly, shouldn't you be telling him this? I didn't do anything wrong."

"He won't listen to me!" DK exclaims, exasperated.

"Well, that makes two of us," I mutter.

"He's even ignoring Seungcheol now! Come on, can't you just talk to him?"

"Kyeomie, I'm busy. Can we talk about this later?"

"NO! Why can't you guys just be—" I hang up before he can finish, pinching the bridge of my nose as frustration bubbles up.

I get where he's coming from, but putting this all on me is ridiculous. I glance at my phone as it buzzes on the desk next to me, debating whether to check it. I sigh and get up, needing a distraction. Cutting my vacation short to work today seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I regret it as a migraine starts to creep in.

I check my phone for what feels like the tenth time in five minutes—no new messages. The only notifications are from DK spamming me, and he is most definitely offended by the fact that I hung up on him. I sigh again, glancing at the clock: 4:39 p.m. Please let the next 21 minutes fly by.

Just then, my work phone rings. Seeing it's my boss, I grabbed it and answered immediately.

Good afternoon, Sumin," I greet warmly.

"So the rumors are true. Why are you working today?" she asks, her tone teasing.

"I appreciate the extra time you gave me, but come on, Sumin. You can't keep me away forever."

"This is why you're my favorite. Always so eager to work," she laughs. "How are things? I see you've got a few meetings lined up next week, and the team you've put together is impressive."

"Oh, yeah! I wanted to ask if you would mind sitting in on a few. I have a really good feeling about this project," I say, feeling a spark of enthusiasm return.

"I trust your judgment. But I'd be willing to join... under one condition."

"You always have to make things complicated, don't you?" I chuckle.

"Come back to the office. We miss you here," she says, her voice sincere.

"About that..."

"No way! You're thinking of coming back?"

"I'd be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind."

"YN! This is amazing!" she squeals, practically bouncing through the phone.

"Thinking," I emphasize, laughing.

"Oh, please! You wouldn't have told me if you weren't considering it," she teases, and I can't help but smile because she's absolutely right.

"You know me too well. Let's talk on Monday. I still have a few emails with project details to send out, and I'll send one your way," I say, pulling up my email tab.

"And here I thought my day couldn't get any better. I better hear from you on Monday!" she says, and we exchange goodbyes.

After finishing the last bit of work, I clock out and head to the kitchen, grabbing a bowl of ramen. I settle on the couch, scrolling through movie options until I pick something random to play in the background. As I savor the warm meal, the comforting noise fills the room.

About 30 minutes later, my phone rings. Subin's name flashes on the screen, bringing a smile to my face as I answer.

"And here I thought you'd forgotten about me," I tease, laughing as he chuckles on the other end.

"I could never forget that beautiful face of yours," he replies confidently, making my stomach flutter.

"You better not. I'd be a little sad if I'm being honest."

"Oh? My opinion matters that much?"

"Shut up," I laugh.

"So, what's up?"

"I don't want to wait until Friday to see you," he admits.

"You do realize Friday is only three days away, right?"

"You're ruining the moment," he jokes, his laugh warm and familiar.

"Alright, alright! Does this mean the oh-so-secret plan is finally being revealed?"

"Absolutely not. We're still waiting for Friday. But how about we go out for drinks?"

"On a Tuesday night?" I ask, raising an eyebrow even though he can't see me.

"Look who's suddenly not so fun."

"You're so annoying. Fine. I can be ready in 10."

"I'll be there in 15," he says eagerly.

"See you then."

"15 it is," he confirms, and we hang up.

Practically flying off the couch, I rush to my room and fling open the closet doors, searching for something to wear.

"Shower or no shower?" I mutter to myself before darting to the bathroom for a quick rinse.

Back at my closet, I pause. "Wait... Is this a date?" I wonder aloud. Drinks could mean a lot of things. After debating, I settle on a black skirt that hugs my curves just right, a fitted black long-sleeved shirt, and a black and green flannel to dress it down.

I quickly apply eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss in the bathroom. Just as I finish, my phone dings from the bedroom.

New Message: Subin ◡̈ Your chariot has arrived 😉 Me: Better not keep you waiting!

I give myself one last look, grab my bag, and head out the door, excitement and nerves bubbling inside me.

The neon lights of Seoul shimmered in the puddles as Subin, and I strolled through the winding streets of Gangnam. Our destination was an unassuming bar he'd mentioned earlier. The city was alive with energy, but my thoughts were stuck on last night.

Lotte World had been perfect—laughter, dizzying rides, and moments that felt suspended in time. But what I couldn't shake was the kiss near the car. It hadn't been planned or calculated. It just... happened.

Even now, the memory of it makes my heart race: the warmth of his hand grazing mine, the way he leaned in like he'd been waiting forever, and the quiet conviction in the way his lips met mine.

But the moon boat ride—that was where it started for me. Floating under the glowing lanterns, his face soft in the warm light, I saw something in him I hadn't dared to notice before.

Subin walked beside me, his long strides effortless as he talked about some celebrity scandal I wasn't entirely following. His voice was warm, rich with the teasing tone he reserved specifically for me. I let him ramble, focusing instead on the rhythm of his steps, the way his hand brushed close to mine every so often.

"You're not even listening," he said, glancing at me.

"Hmm?" I replied.

Subin stopped abruptly, spinning on his heel to face me. "I just told you the juiciest drama of the year, and you give me a hmm? Unbelievable."

I laughed, nudging him forward. "Your 'juicy drama' was about an actor getting caught at a club. That's not news, Subin. That's another Tuesday."

"Wow," he said, holding a hand to his chest. "First, you ignore me. Now, you insult me. Should we just call it a night?"

"Don't tempt me," I said, grinning.

He chuckled and kept walking, but his smile lingered, just like mine.

We turned the corner, leaving the bustling main street behind for quieter, dimly lit side roads. The shift in the atmosphere was immediate—a calm, intimate vibe replaced the vibrant chaos. Subin stopped in front of a small door tucked between two buildings, its frame outlined in soft, warm light.

"This is it?" I asked, arching a skeptical brow.

"This," he said, holding the door open with an exaggerated flourish, "is my favorite hidden bar in Gangnam. Trust me, you're going to love it."

I stepped inside, immediately hit by the cozy warmth of the space. The dim lighting cast golden shadows on the walls, and a jazz rendition of a familiar pop song hummed softly in the background. It smelled like citrus, aged wood, and a hint of something floral.

"Okay," I admitted, sliding into a corner booth. "This is nice."

Subin sat across from me, his grin smug. "Told you. I have excellent taste."

"What are you drinking?" he asked, handing me a menu.

"Something fruity," I said without hesitation.

"Of course," he teased, his lips twitching into a smirk. "Peach soju cocktail?"

"Wow, one kiss, and suddenly you think you know me," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

His smile froze, and I felt my face heat up. Damn it. I hadn't meant to bring it up so casually.

"You said it, not me," he said, recovering quickly. He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table. "But since you mentioned it..."

"Don't," I warned, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Don't what?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"You know what," I said, glaring at him, though the corners of my mouth betrayed me by twitching upward.

The server arrived, mercifully interrupting, and we placed our orders—peach soju for me and a whiskey sour for him. Once they left, the silence stretched just long enough to feel noticeable.

When our drinks arrived, I sipped my cocktail, savoring the sweet tang of peach and soju. Subin watched me with a curious expression.

"What?" I asked, setting my glass down.

"You make this little sound when you like something," he said, his voice teasing but soft.

I blinked, caught off guard. "I do not."

"You do. I noticed it yesterday when you bit into that churro as well," he said, leaning forward slightly. "It's cute."

I felt heat creep up my neck and tried to play it cool. "Careful, Subin. If you keep talking like that, I might think you're flirting with me."

"Good," he said, his voice low but steady.

Caught off guard again, all I can say is, “What?"

"I'm flirting with you, YN," he said, leaning back with a small smile. "In case that wasn't obvious."

The air between us shifted, the playful banter giving way to something heavier, more real.

"You're awfully bold tonight," I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

"Last night got me thinking," he admitted, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "About us. About you."

I swallowed hard. "And what exactly were you thinking?"

"That I've been holding back when I shouldn't have," he said simply.

His honesty caught me off guard. Subin wasn't usually this direct. He hid behind jokes and banter, always deflecting when things got too serious. But now, he was looking at me like he wasn't afraid of what I might say next.

"And why were you holding back?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Because I wasn't sure if you felt the same way," he said, his gaze unwavering. "But then last night, after the moon boat ride... you looked at me like—"

"Like what?" I prompted, leaning in slightly.

"Like you saw me the way I see you," he said.

The words hit me like a wave, and I had to look away, focusing on my drink.

He was right. I had seen him differently last night. On the moon boat, surrounded by glowing lanterns, he'd looked at me like I was whole—not broken, not something that needed fixing, but just... me.

I let out a soft sigh, my fingers gripping the edge of the table. "You make it sound so simple."

"Isn't it?" he asked gently.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "It's not."

He waited, his expression patient, and something about the quiet understanding in his eyes made the words spill out before I could stop them.

"Most people... they look at me and see someone who's a mess," I said, my voice faltering. "Someone who's been through too much. They try to fix me or pity me, and it's exhausting."

"YN—" he started, but I held up a hand.

"But you," I continued, my voice softer now, "you don't do that. You see me, all of me, and somehow, you make me feel like I'm enough."

His expression softened, and he reached across the table, his fingers brushing mine. "That's because you are enough," he said quietly. "More than enough."

I felt a lump rise in my throat and quickly took a sip of my drink, trying to steady myself. "You make it sound so easy," I said again, my voice trembling slightly.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be as complicated as you think," he said.

I looked up at him, my heart pounding. "Subin, I like you. I really do. But this feels... fast. And I don't want to ruin what we have by rushing into something we're not ready for."

He nodded, his lips curving into a small smile. "Fair enough."

I blinked. "That's it? No argument?"

"Why would I argue?" he said, his tone light but sincere. "If you're not ready, then we take our time. I'm not going anywhere, YN."

His words made my chest ache in the best way. Subin always had a way of making me feel seen, but tonight, he made me feel safe, too.

"Let's see where this goes," I said finally, my voice steady.

His smile widened, and he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. "That works for me."

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter, shared stories, and stolen glances. By the time we stepped out of the bar, the streets had quieted, and a soft breeze carried the crisp scent of rain.

As we walked towards the car, Subin's hand brushed against mine. I glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you going to hold my hand, or are you just going to keep teasing me all night?" I asked.

He grinned, his fingers intertwining with mine. "What can I say? I'm a multitasker."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're ridiculous."

"And you love it," he said, his voice warm and sure.

I didn't respond, but I couldn't stop smiling as we walked hand in hand.

The ride back was filled with friendly banter, and when we pulled into my parking space, he decided to walk me all the way to my door.

"This is me," I say as we approach my door.

"Thank you for coming along with me tonight," he says softly. I only smile.

We stand there for a few seconds before he leans in, but he stops himself.

"Is this okay?"

"More than okay," I reply with a shy smile.

Our lips meet. And unlike last night, this kiss is slow and slightly more intimate. I pull away before I get too caught in the moment and place my hand on his chest.

"Baby steps," I say through a breathless chuckle.

"Baby steps," Subin says.

"I'll see you soon?"

"Of course."

He turns to descend the stairs, but he calls for me before he can get out of my sight.

"Stop by the bookstore soon; Nayeon has been asking about you," he says, and then he leaves.

I enter my apartment and get ready for another night, thinking about Subin, and before getting into bed, my phone dings.

Son-yuh: Invite for the engagement! Bring your friend 😏

"This girl is going to be the death of me."

#seventeen #choi seungcheol #dokyeom #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #woozi

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cheollollipop · 26 days ago

Text

TWO MOONS - L.HS

pairing. plug!heeseung x reader

genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!

word count. 4k+

warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]

synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.

a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe

Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed.

Fucking ridiculous.

It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.

“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”

Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”

“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.

“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.

You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”

“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”

The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies.

It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.

His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.

“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”

“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”

“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.

“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”

“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.

“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.

“I am not her bitch.”

He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.

Heeseung * 2:47 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo

YN * 9:06 AM

omggggg ur the fucking best how much??

You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.

Heeseung * 10:31 AM

1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more

YN * 10:40 AM

no cash? :(

Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.

YN * 10:41 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(

It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.

Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.

Heeseung * 10:50 AM

Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol

YN * 10:59 AM

omg :o are u sure? don’t want u to lose out on money >.<

Heeseung * 11:11 AM

It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky

YN * 11:12 AM

thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o

There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.

His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.

Heeseung * 11:13 AM

Must be :)

After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.

There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.

Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.

He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.

Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.

However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.

“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”

Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”

Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.

Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.

He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.

You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”

Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”

Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.

He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”

You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”

You grimace, shaking your head in response.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”

It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”

Heeseung nods, “I swear.”

You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer.

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.

You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.

You shake your head, “I’m not.”

“You are, I feel you shaking.”

“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.

Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.

“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.

You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.

Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”

You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”

You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”

“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”

“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”

Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.

“Mind if I try something?”

You perk up, “Try what?”

“I do all the work but you still get high.”

You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”

He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”

Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”

Here goes nothing.

He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.

You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.

“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.

Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.

“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”

Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.

As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.

On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.

You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.

Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.

You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.

You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”

He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.

You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.

Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth.

You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”

You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.

It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.

His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.

He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”

You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”

“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.

“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.

Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.

Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”

“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.

“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”

“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”

“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door.

“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”

You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”

“I do! Just let me, please.”

“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”

“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”

He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”

A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”

Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.

He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.

“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”

“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.

This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”

Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.

Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.

He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.

“H-Heeseung…hold on…”

He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.

He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.

You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”

He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”

“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”

His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”

You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”

Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.

“No.”

He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”

“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

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