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gutsby · 8 months

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Waiting Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel Miller has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.

Warnings: 18+. Protected p-in-v. Praise. Overstimulation. Sweet, possessive, slightly obsessive and pussywhipped Joel. Daddy kink. Drug use. Angst. Accidental creampie. Joel fucking you while on the phone with your father.

Part 2 | Part 3

“You okay, hon? You sound…distracted,” your dad presses. A hint of concern rises from his end of the line.

At length, Joel grips both of your legs and brings them up over his shoulders, and he grins before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.

“Yes!” you yelp as you crush the phone to your ear, hoping your father can’t hear any of the filthy sounds down below, “Just a little stretched—I mean stressed out, is all.”

Aside from the fact that he smoked like a chimney and bumped far more Billy Joel than any man ever should, Mr. Miller was an A-OK friend—your father’s best friend.

All you needed was a ride home for the holidays.

From the second you’d set foot in his old Ford Bronco, you sensed this trek wouldn’t be an enjoyable one—thirty-hour road trips rarely ever were—but you leaned back in the passenger seat, propped your feet on the dashboard, and bopped along to ‘You May Be Right’ for the fifty-fifth fucking time that morning and smiled.

Joel frowned.

“Dogs off the dash,” he muttered, swatting at your bare, polished toes before you kicked his touch away.

“Shotgun puts her feet up, driver shuts his cakehole.”

That wasn’t even how the saying went. Oh well.

Joel slowed the car to sixty in the right-hand lane and smacked your ankles even harder. You yelped.

“Hey! You can’t hit a woman!”

“I’m not hitting a woman, I’m hitting a little gremlin,” Joel tried not to grin as he delivered another tart slap to your foot, and you almost jerked into the passenger door.

He momentarily righted the car before it went veering into the lane beside it, seized one of your feet, and tried to forcibly shove it off the dashboard, to no avail. As soon as he moved one limb, the other would glide right back up to take its place; Joel’s hands were big, but they weren’t massive enough to grab hold of both of your legs at once and make you stay the fuck there, Christ’s sake.

You liked to see him flustered. Brought a whole new hue to his tough, stubbled cheeks that folks rarely got to see. You squirmed in your seat when he reached for your side.

“Wh—NO! No tickling!” you cried, trying your hardest to roll away.

But the man was nothing if not a lover of cheap shots and filthy antics. He’d never played a clean game in his life and wasn’t about to start now.

His gaze darted from the road to your writhing form, pinned against the door and begging him to stop, while he pressed his foot harder on the gas and smirked.

“Too much?” he teased, “Say pretty, pretty please.”

In other words: give up. You would do no such thing. Your elbow jutted out to the side and clipped his fingertips sharply, and right before he could reach for you again, you were heaving yourself up and leaning almost halfway out the open window, trying to shy away from his touch.

“You fuckin’ nuts?! Get down!” he yelled.

“But it just may be a luuuunatic you’re lookin’ for!” you sang along to your old friend Billy Joel and pretended not to see, or hear, Joel Miller twisting desperately across the center console to take hold of your belt loops.

“Get—I swear to God, kid—DOWN!”

Joel had just managed to finagle a loose, feeble grip on your denim waistband as he tried to keep the car from soaring across three lanes of traffic, was just about to yank you back inside and give you a red-faced, fatherly lecture of a lifetime, when a sound startled you both.

A siren, and a set of flashing blue lights behind you.

You scrambled back in your seat and swallowed a lump in your throat the size of a peach. You turned off Mr. Long Island.

“Great! Good fucking going,” Joel griped beside you as he flicked on his blinker and started to pull off the road.

Dogs no longer on the dash—and a very pissed off cop pulling up behind your car on the shoulder of the road—you got the feeling this would be a long couple of days.

You hadn’t even made it outside the city limits of Boston.

Somewhere between Richmond and Roanoke, the two of you turned off the highway to find a place to sleep.

Joel had sat and stewed and ignored you for the customary duration of about two hours before choosing to re-engage in conversation, but deep down, you knew he was still kind of irked by that reckless driving citation he’d received. You couldn’t help but feel responsible.

Though it had been pretty funny when the state trooper had approached the car and pointedly asked, “What the hell was your daughter doin’ danglin’ outta this thing?!” Joel was nowhere near as amused as you, but he managed to roll with it and told the cop you were just trying to wave to the cows in the fields passing by.

The police officer hadn’t bought it.

He probably would have arrested you both if you hadn’t been such a coquettish flirt and somehow managed to persuade the man to let your ‘dad’ off with just a ticket.

You had hoped that would temper Joel’s anger some, but if anything, the sight only seemed to make him more mad at you. You weren’t sure why.

Presently, you pulled up to Balmaceda’s Mountain Lodge and cast a bleak look at the front office before you.

This looked nothing like the snug, homespun mountain retreat you’d been picturing in your mind. Ahead of your car, there stood a single-story concrete slab of a motel, tilted to one side and consumed almost entirely by the dark of night and wide open wilderness. A big block letter neon sign displaying the owner’s name in red now barely flickered above a muddied, pinkish glow. You groaned.

But before you could complain to your travel companion, Joel was already stepping out of the car and heading toward the main office. Hastily, you followed after.

“No way, Miller. No fucking way are we staying in Murder Motel,” you hissed.

“Bal-ma-ceda’s,” Joel intoned with a maddeningly accurate lilt, ignoring your protests, “I think that’s a Chilean name.”

He swung the door wide for you to enter and pretended not to see you shoot him a glare as you strolled in.

“Needin’ a room?”

The lady behind the counter barely graced your entrance with a look.

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you got,” Joel replied, smiling.

“Smoking or non?”

“Smoking, please.”

Of course he would. You could already feel the fetid stench of American Spirits wafting up to your nostrils.

“King or two Queens?”

“Queens,” you and Joel answered in unison.

At first, the woman nodded, flicked through a rolodex on her desk and nosed through a couple yellowed pages in front of her. Then, frowning, she looked back up.

“Sorry. All the Queens are took up. Rest of the rooms are being fumigated but the one—” she tapped a manicured nail on the motel map, “—and it’s got a King. That okay?”

No. No, it was not. You opened your mouth to speak but were shortly cut off by the woman before you could.

“Of course, if you don’t want dad hoggin’ up all the sheets, there’s a pull-out sofa for him to sleep on.”

The sixty-something desk clerk offered a smile, and you likely would’ve returned the favor if you hadn’t been so deeply nauseated at the thought of everyone around you assuming that Joel was your father. You chanced a look at the man, who seemed equally uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. You sighed.

“Alright.”

Defeated, but marginally pleased that you wouldn’t have to share a bed with your ‘old man’ that night.

Joel paid and signed the papers without another word, or look, to you or the woman. By the looks of it, he just wanted to book the room and get the hell out as fast as possible, his brow pinched inward and lips zipped tight.

He’d turned to leave so quick that he was almost approaching the door when the lady called out,

“Mr. Miller! You forgot your keys.”

You hardly needed to steal a glance in Joel’s direction to see that he was flushed. Even blushing a bit.

You strode over to the counter and intercepted the keys she was dangling for someone to take, then politely, finally, were able to manage a smile and a thank-you.

You turned back to Joel.

“Here you go, Daddy.”

In a blink, the small silver set was pelted in his hands, and the man nearly dropped them—and lost his balance. By some miracle, Joel managed to catch them between his big sweaty palms and step aside just in time for you to saunter past him, straight through the door.

“I’m starved,” you announced, then, averting your face to hide your smug expression and lower your voice a bit, “Feed me, Daddy.”

In that moment, Joel thanked every last one of his lucky stars that his pants were made of denim, and that the denim itself was thick. And that the woman at the front desk was swift to turn her attention back to her tabloid magazine, away from you two, and didn’t look up again.

If they weren’t, and if she hadn’t, it would’ve been plain as day to see that Joel Miller was sporting a hard-on.

A huge, swollen hard-on that made it almost impossible for him to walk and haul luggage and try to keep apace with your steps as you sailed along the gravel drive. So big the man had to will himself not to limp, not to make it known how stiff he was, until he eventually failed at both.

Once you’d grabbed your bags back at the car and made it up to your place, you entered Room 102 with a lightness you hadn’t felt all day. Joel slogged behind with all of the baggage and a boner beneath his jeans that probably could’ve cut sheet metal, if needed.

He was fucked. No doubt he’d have to enlist in the Witness Protection Program after your real father found out that his best friend had gotten visibly bricked up for you, his one and only daughter. How awkward holiday dinners were bound to be from that point on; how humiliating it seemed to him to pop a chub at a thing as dumb as saying ‘daddy’; how batshit insane it was that he hadn’t gotten laid in almost a year, and you were still, somehow, the only one he wanted to break the dry spell.

Joel was better than this. A fucking pro at self-control and all things dirty old guys didn’t do. He could chill out.

He just needed to rub one out in the bathroom, fast.

So, while you flopped down on the bed, Joel dropped every bag and made a beeline for the toilet. Slammed the door so hard he probably could’ve knocked the thing off its hinges, but he didn’t care. He was wrestling his belt, button, and zip off in a second. Then haphazardly turning on the sink to mask the sounds of all that was to come. No pun intended.

He yanked his thick, throbbing, rock-hard member out of its confines and had to hiss through his teeth to keep from moaning. The sensitivity he felt was unbearable, the front of his boxers already painted with pre-cum.

Gingerly, Joel wrapped one hand around his cock and raised the other to anchor himself against the sink. He slid his palm, which he’d just barely lubricated with some spit of his, up and down the shaft and groaned. A welt of pleasure formed in his chest, and he rubbed even faster. And, in spite of his legs feeling a bit like jelly, he stood there and fucked his fist and wished with every bit of himself that it was your warm, lush folds opening around him instead. Stifled a groan and would’ve paid any sum of money to hear your moans spilling out while he thrusted. The act here was more mindless and reflexive than anything else—jerking himself and soaking in the sharp, fiery sensations that shot up through his body.

To him, at least, it was all purely physical. Mechanical.

Nowhere near as euphoric and otherworldly as it would have been with your hand actually curled around him.

Or your lips. Or your tongue. Or your tight, wet cunt.

Fuck, he needed a shower.

Blindly, Joel moved inside the tub to his left and yanked the curtain shut over a space almost two times too small for his frame. He turned on the water and made it hot. Then he fisted his cock again, pressed his head to the shower wall, and pumped himself as fast as his forearm would allow him—trying all the while not to think of you.

You, with all your wily, shrewd ways were still the daughter of the man who guzzled down IPAs with him at the local dive bar every Thursday night over jalapeño poppers and buffalo dip. The man who clapped him over the shoulder and shook his frame with the kind of good-natured sneer that only a best friend could make, ‘A man as suave as you oughta get some tail every now and then. Go find you a gal and fuck her brains out, Joel!’

But the only ‘gal’ Joel wanted to rail was the one who called that man ‘dad’—and just called him ‘daddy’ for the first time that night—and he hated himself for it.

Sparks of pleasure continued to ignite across his lower half as he jerked himself in the shallowest, short pumps. He flicked his hand back and forth, circled the tip with his palm, and felt a groan start to claw at his throat. He tried to picture any face but yours but failed miserably.

All he could think, see, or breathe was you—imagining your lips enveloping the head of his cock, jerking him softly, taking him down to the back of your throat and bobbing that pretty little face up and down his length.

That sweaty, desperate fist of his just wasn’t cutting it.

For the first time, Joel couldn’t make himself cum.

Now even more pent-up and pussywhipped than he’d been when he first started, he slammed his palm against the wall and flung the shower handle in the opposite direction—turning the water as cold as it could get.

Five minutes passed, and the icy spray had scarcely left a dent in his raging erection. Joel stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his hips, and stood in front of the mirror to see that he was still very hard.

Fuck this.

He bunched his strewn aside clothing together and held it over his crotch, discreet as he could, and waddled out.

And, either the temperature inside had just jumped fifty degrees or the world outside had just caught fire, but Joel’s face was flooded with heat the second he exited.

You were sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but a thin white tank, shorts, and fuzzy socks—and a scowl.

“Sofa’s broke,” you said.

Joel blinked.

“Broke?”

You nodded toward the busted sleeper couch at the far end of the room, torn to pieces and kicked a half-dozen times since you’d tried unfolding it in Joel’s absence.

The jaws of the old steel frame had simply refused to give way, and now the sofa was so out of sorts and misshapen that you had no hope of putting it back the way that it was. You sank further in the bed and pointed to the floor.

“You can sleep there.”

Joel eyed a flat sheet and a pillow laid across the carpet, visibly coated in dust and grime. He turned back to you.

“You’re smokin’ crack if you think I’m doin’ that.”

“Be grateful I’m not making you sleep in the car, daddy.”

Again with that fucking name. Joel tightened his grip on the clothes he was holding over his dick and tried to fight a thousand dirty thoughts threatening to seep back into his head.

Unfortunately, the dirty thoughts had hands—and were beating his ass to a bloody pulp when he first caught sight of your nipples poking up through your shirt. Just when the man might have started to drool or else begun humping that pile of clothes, you snapped your fingers.

“Miller Lite. Eyes up here.”

Fuck.

“Got a…stain on your shirt,” he grumbled in his defense.

“Shut up. Now, we can flip for the bed if you want.”

By turns, Joel’s focus was slowly coming back, and the man was trying like hell to find a place on your face that didn’t arouse him to no end—to help ease the intrusive thoughts and all. So far his search had yielded nothing.

“Like, uh…coin?” he asked. Endearingly stupid.

“Heads, I win,” you said, nodding, “Tails…”

Joel swallowed.

“Tails, what?”

“Tails, you tell me what was going on in your head when you were jacking off to the thought of me just now.”

Your words came out in a hurry, almost too quick for Joel to comprehend. He still heard them, though, and nearly choked on his spit when he tried to swallow again.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” you bit back, “I heard you moan my name.”

Joel didn’t remember that. Joel didn’t remember much of anything that had taken place in that bathroom apart from being implacably horny and unable to bust a nut. You stepped off the bed to stand in front of him.

“What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” you sneered, “Think I’m just gonna run off and tell my da—”

“Don’t,” Joel’s response was immediate, insistent. Then, setting his jaw in a way you knew too well, contemplating about fifty different thoughts in the span of two seconds, he pressed the clothes pile to his crotch even tighter and sighed, “Don’t…do that, please. I’ll take the floor.”

You raised both brows, mildly amused.

“I said we could flip for it. C’mon,” you said.

“Ain’t got any coins.” Joel was already retreating to his makeshift sleeping pad on the floor, eyeing the shag carpet for any traces of blood, piss, or rodent droppings. Before he made it too far, you reached for his arm.

Joel tensed under your touch.

“We can try something else.” Your voice was cloying, almost too sweet to be trusted.

It had just dawned on you then how bare the man standing before you was. Clad in only his towel, every taut, toned inch of Joel’s body was there on display—coated with sweat and a fine sheen from the shower, his skin practically shone in the glow of the bedside lamp. You watched him shift in place and saw the towel around his hips stir along with it. He never let those old clothes in his hands move an inch away from his groin, though.

“What game?” he asked.

“Something my roommates showed me,” you began, “‘Too Hot.’”

“Too Hot?”

“You heard me.”

“What, like— like Spin the Bottle, or some bullshit?”

Joel could just picture it: a gaggle of your college pals huddled around an old, empty bottle of Bud Light as you watched it turn circles again, and again, and again on the dorm’s linoleum floor. You tugging at the sleeve of some oversized man-child from a frat Joel couldn’t name, leaning in and beaming like the insatiable flirt he knew you to be, asking that boy if he wanted to sneak off somewhere and let his tongue take a tour of your mouth.

The thought made Joel’s stomach turn.

Presently, you wrinkled your nose up at him.

“Spin the Bottle? That’s rookie shit,” you made another face reminding Joel, once more, how little he knew of the life you lived 1,900 miles away from Austin, at college.

He still couldn’t shake the thought of those boys.

“No, Joel,” you shook your head, drawing your syllables out for effect, “‘Too Hot’ is just…edging your opponent.”

Joel’s throat tightened, and he tried not to let his eyes widen too much, but he was almost certain they had. Before he even knew the words he was saying, the thought of your father taking his fist—or a shotgun—to his face made him blurt out in response, stammering,

“We can’t— I can’t— can’t lay one finger on you, darlin’, you know that. Your dad would murder me.”

To his surprise, the smile on your face only widened.

“Bingo,” You stuck one pretty finger in his face like he’d made the world’s finest discovery, “You can’t touch me.”

“Huh?”

“That’s the whole fuckin’ game, Miller. We can kiss, but we can’t touch each other with our hands. First one to crack and grope the other player loses the game.”

Your expression now was something just shy of sadistic. Watching him with keen, narrowed eyes and a wicked little grin, it seemed you were half-expecting him to fold on the spot. No way was this a game your college friends taught you; you just wanted to play him. Make him lose.

And Joel was a man who couldn’t stand to lose, no matter the stakes.

You watched that failure-averse glint eclipse every shade of lust in his eyes, at least momentarily. Suddenly, Joel didn’t look so fearful of your father’s wrath or what lurid implications this night might bring—he just had to win.

“You suck, you know that?” he said, at last, dropping his makeshift shield from the front of his towel and knocking you flat on the bed with a single push.

“You wish I would,” you grumbled, heart still jumping up in your ribcage all the same. You scooted back.

“I bet you will.”

The man was a menace when he had the will to be.

At length, Joel crawled over your body and made room for himself snug between your legs. The bulge that he’d been trying to hide all this time was now heavy on your center, pressed tight to your stupid-thin shorts and the panties you’d conveniently forgotten to wear. He grinned.

“Are tongues allowed?” he hummed.

“Everything but hands,” you shrugged.

Try as you might to play it cool with him, though, every fibre of your being was alight with desire for the man on top of you. You flitted a look between his soft brown eyes and slightly parted lips and could’ve melted in that bed had Joel not lowered his head and dove right in for it.

His mouth was far gentler than expected. Reverent, even. He slotted his lips between your own and made a fine, delicate showing of just how tender and adept he could be while imparting his slow, sweet kisses. Skirted his tongue across your bottom lip before driving it inside, coaxed your mouth open to him in a matter of seconds. He was graceful. And patient. And lithe with that tongue.

Joel Miller was showing off for you—the bastard.

“Sweet little thing,” he groaned against your mouth, “Ain’t felt a tongue this shy on mine in a long time.”

Of course he’d try taunting you, too. Same old Joel.

“What’s it been? Two years since a woman let you touch her?”

“Twenty since I felt one this good.”

You would’ve liked to reach around the back of his head and seize a clump of that thick, dark, grey-speckled hair. But you couldn’t. Your hands remained plastered to the duvet beneath you, and then, just slightly, your fingers started to curl inward. Joel’s palms laid flat on either side of your head.

It felt weird; mashing lips, teeth, and tongue with a man who’d been alive about twenty years longer than you and went further back with your father than you could even remember. What felt even stranger was the fact that you couldn’t touch him, or take him between your two hands.

Joel’s tongue continued roaming every contour and crevice of your mouth like he had an ache for this taste that he just couldn’t quench. Your tongue tried keeping up, too, but frankly, you were too preoccupied by a pulse between your legs—your parts and Joel’s practically throbbing in time with one another—to work just as hard.

Even through the towel, he felt huge.

You whined when Joel started to grind up against you, and shortly, those fingers of yours that had just been grazing the sheets before were gripping them. Tight.

“Earlier…” Joel murmured between kisses, hips working a vicious pace against you, “You said you were hungry.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry—starved,” he corrected himself, and you almost could’ve smacked him for being so smug about it.

“What’s your point, Miller?” You were fisting the sheets beneath your palms and gyrating your whole body to meet the motions of the man currently dry-humping you.

All of a sudden, Joel’s movements stopped.

He peered down at you with a curious look.

“I could go for something to eat, too,” he declared.

You blinked. Stared. And just when you’d opened your mouth to say, well, maybe you should’ve grabbed us a bite to eat when we passed that Burger King on the way in, dipshit, Joel’s torso started to move down your own. Slow and painstaking as ever as he made sure not to graze one inch of your skin with his hands while he did.

You leapt back against the headboard, almost cracking your skull on the wood.

“Joel— Joel,” you hissed as the heels of your feet dug into the mattress below, and Joel just sank even further.

Then he was slowly, scrupulously pinching the fabric of your shorts between each index finger and thumb, gaze trained close on your lower half to make sure he never touched you, and he started pulling it down.

“This isn’t—” you started again, only to be offered a soft shush and an even quieter rustle of the cotton material sliding down both your legs.

You dropped your head on a pillow and probably could’ve burned a hole in the ceiling with the wide-eyed look you fixed on one spot, in utter disbelief of what he was doing.

“No panties, huh?” Joel observed. Gentle puffs of his breath were now fanning across the whole bare expanse of your lower half, and your pyjama bottoms were shortly discarded. His face was just hovering there, and you could tell that he knew you knew by the way he lowered his voice and brought his head to have only the tips of his chin stubble grazing your abdomen, “You needed this.”

Some lone remnant of ire flashed in your eyes.

“I don’t need shit from you, Miller. You need me. And you’re gonna lose this.”

Even though your gaze was still trained to the ceiling, you could feel him grin against your delicate skin.

“Hey,” he mumbled, “You said tongues are fair game.”

Fuck me, you wanted to keen the second his lips made contact with your…lower ones, and Joel swiftly got to kissing you there just as he’d done to you above. Hot, soft, and tender as the first rays of morning sun heralding a new day, he sponged his lips across the seam of your heat and made as if to massage the place, gently.

You could hear as well as you could feel that effusion of desire leaking out of your cunt and pooling around the man’s mouth. How eager he was to lap it up with his tongue, to grace your ears with those delectable squelching sounds, he caressed every inch between your folds and only sank deeper when you whined above him.

“Joel.”

Right now you couldn’t look down. Not with the way your legs were already trembling around his head, your chest heaving with the fastest, most frenzied breaths. You’d sooner die before you watched him unravel you like this.

“Darlin’, you’ve got a man soaked.” Some sound almost resembling a chuckle reverberated between your thighs and sent a brand new shockwave of pleasure in its wake, “You like it when daddy uses his mouth on this needy, wet cunt, don’t you?”

Yes, yes, you did. But your answer was nonverbal: a sharp curl of your toes and a grip between your fingers so tight across the sheets that he saw you veritably could’ve torn the linens in two.

Neither of you had laid a hand on the other.

Joel was perfectly content to make do with his mouth for now.

“Got those sheets all balled up, you’re fixin’ to rip ‘em.”

“My tongue make ya feel that good, honey?”

“Poor thing can’t even breathe it feels so nice, right?”

So he’d seen you hiccup, try to steady your breaths, and fail before succumbing to a string of lewd moans. Joel saw you, and knew how you felt, as if he’d had his own secret gauge for how good his mouth was doing you in.

Surely, he could’ve sensed the words before they ever came out of your mouth.

“Touch me, Joel, please.”

His tongue was just then making a lazy circuit around your clit, mouth saturated in your juices, when he smiled.

“Nah.”

Curt and cruel as ever. Then:

“No matter how fuckin’ perfect this pussy is, I ain’t losin’.”

He completed the arc with his tongue and took your bud between his lips, sucking in. You almost screamed.

“Motherfucker.”

“Miller, baby, Miller. Close, though.”

And just when you thought he’d had his fill of cheeky games, Joel sucked your clit even harder and flicked the tip of his tongue against your bundle of nerves until you were writhing, crying on the bed above him,

“JoelbabypleasebabyfuckmefuckohfuckitfeelsoGOOD.”

It was a bit tough to decipher through your strangled, desperate moans, but Joel got the picture. Heeding your requests, he kept at that pace above your clit and slid his tongue back and forth, over and over, lapping up your honeyed glaze like it was the finest thing he’d tasted. Scruff harsh against your thighs, lips soft in a perfect suction, Joel Miller had your head swimming in desire and your better judgment dissipating before your eyes.

At the first sign of bliss, your muscles clenched, and the last linchpin of your resolve crumbled right along with it.

You carded your hands through Joel’s hair and grabbed hold of those locks with a full-throated moan, using his head for shameless leverage to buck and rut your hips into his face as you rode out the peaks of your high.

And, ever the gentleman, Joel fought like hell to keep his lips and tongue connected to your core while you writhed above him—this time at liberty to work his arms under your thighs and hold them since you’d given up the game. He would’ve smiled if he weren’t so narrowly preoccupied, seeing you thrash about and moan out loud and fuck his face like it was the last thing tethering you to earth. He liked seeing you come undone beneath him.

A bit too much, if he were being completely honest.

While you made the languid descent from ecstasy and your breaths were still slowing in your chest on the bed, Joel was back on his feet. Padding toward the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind him as he had before. When he returned in a minute or two, he was clothed. He fished for his keys in the pockets of his snug, stonewash Wranglers and made a face. He didn’t look at you.

“I’ll be back,” he said, starting toward the door.

“Back?” You sat up, perplexed, “The hell ya goin’?”

“Out.”

This motherfucker.

“Did I miss something? Were we not just seconds away from getting down to some how’s-your-father?”

Joel visibly grimaced at your choice of sex slang. Under the circumstances, you would concede it wasn’t ideal.

“O-kay, sorry,” you returned, crossing your legs out in front of you, “I mean…don’t you want me to get you off?”

Again, Joel’s expression twisted into something just shy of overwrought, weary, and repulsed—a look that you couldn’t begin to understand, for the life of you—and you watched him flit his eyes from the bed to the door, again and again, seeming to be pining for the sweet release of leaving your shared motel room as soon as possible.

You’d been with your fair share of emotionally avoidant fucksticks, but most of them didn’t ghost until after they’d gotten their nut and felt no reason to stick around. Joel’s exit seemed premature. Strange.

“So you don’t want to fuck?” you asked, deadpan. You’d never been one for beating around the bush.

“Can’t,” Joel shook his head, bringing one hand to rest on his hip while the other fiddled uncomfortably with his car keys, “Your dad…that’s just— that’s crossing a line.”

“And being nose-deep in my cunt isn’t?”

You stared him down, incredulous.

So now he decides to claim the moral high ground, after coaxing you to soak every inch of his beard and cum all over his tongue? How very fucking charitable of him.

“That’s different,” Joel retorted, rubbing his knuckles in a nervous tic, “That was a game. I won. We’re done.”

You set your jaw just tight enough to keep your tongue in check and refrained from firing off a brash, unsavory remark. It wouldn’t do either of you a lick of good.

You let him leave. Joel had told you that you could keep the bed, he didn’t mind, and then he slipped out the door without another word. Leaving you cold and alone on the soiled, tawdry floral bedspread of Room 102, wondering what the hell had gone so wrong in the span of the last five minutes. From the center of the bed, you could see Joel’s Bronco pull off into the silent, frigid night.

You were still hungry as shit.

Rolling onto your side and rummaging through the bags at the end of the bed, you found nothing even remotely edible—save for, literally, one of Joel’s brownie edibles—and you groaned out loud. You threw your shorts back on, stepped into your old Luccheses, and did a quick circuit around the room to find your jacket before you left. As it turned out, you’d forgotten it back in Joel’s car.

You dropped to your knees and went back to tearing through luggage, searching for some suitable outerwear.

By the end of that second suitcase foray, though, you found you had nothing of your own that was hefty enough to brave the below-freezing temperatures outside, so you had to settle on a dark brown, fleece-lined coat from Joel’s bag. It was durable enough but about four sizes too big—and reeked of cigarette smoke.

You trudged outside, not really knowing where you were going or what you were hoping to find. Your stomach growled, and a few cool gusts of wind came to lap at the bare skin of your thighs where Joel’s spit was still drying.

You stepped a few feet out and turned toward the road.

Bal-ma-ceda’s, you read the seedy neon sign and heard Joel’s enunciation of the name ring between your ears.

What you wouldn’t give for the greasiest, girthiest, barely-FDA-approved 7-Eleven corndog to kill your thoughts about that sleazy little fucker right now.

You started toward the convenience store across the street but quickly found that it was closed—along with every other establishment on that stretch of road. You glanced toward the front office and caught a glimpse of your old friend dozing behind the counter. The speakers outside were playing a tinny rendition of ‘Piano Man.’

Just as you tried not to barf in your mouth at the sound and silently primed yourself for a long, long trek through the boonies to the nearest gas station, you stopped.

In a compact little breezeway that cleaved the motel in two, you saw light pool around an old vending machine.

You almost fell over yourself trying to get to it.

Never mind the fact that there were about half a dozen ragtag teens decked out in camouflage and comically tattered denim cutoffs crowding the area. All absently smoking and blowing o’s, or else sipping on cans of beer in the cramped, concrete passage, they looked bored. A couple lazy smiles broke out upon seeing your approach.

You nodded back and sidled up to the snack dispenser.

Then you zeroed in on the first sugar-packed products you could find: a pack of sour gummy worms and a bottle of Sprite—no, Mountain Dew—and a chocolate bar. Maybe a bag of Cheetos or Fritos thrown in for good measure. All of the snacks were probably stale as shit and hadn’t seen a replacement since dinosaurs roamed the earth, but you didn’t care. You were prying singles out of your wallet and salivating before you could think.

“Gotta kick it a couple times ‘fore it’ll spit anything out,” one of the boys lounging around you piped up.

You’d just inserted a couple bills and were waiting for the machine to dispense your gummy worms, when the thing appeared to stall. Stuck in its tracks, like he’d said.

You raised a brow and tapped the toe of your boot to the appliance, turning toward the one who’d addressed you,

“Like this?”

“Nope. Nuh-uh.” The redhead got up and strode over, where his much bigger, square-toed boot delivered a kick to the vending machine that almost toppled it.

A bag of Trolli Sour Brite Crawlers dropped out.

The kid—who actually happened to be nineteen years old and a student at some college a few states away, along with his whole group of friends—was kind enough to repeat the same ritual for all of your treats. You’d just gathered your stuff together and were about to thank him for his services, when the guy presently stuck a hand in your direction and introduced himself as Connor.

Then Blake. Then Micah. Then Wyatt. Then Trent. All traveling with their team for a tournament that weekend.

Then a beer was held out to you. You declined. A little homemade deer jerky? No, thanks. How ‘bout some Oreos? I’m good on snacks, really. Well, shit, you seem a little high-strung, why don’t you take a hit right here? And Connor pulled his dab pen out from his pocket.

Well.

You hadn’t smoked in a minute. You might’ve decided to take a bite out of Joel’s brownie back in the room, but you hadn’t known how strong it was—or where the fuck he’d gotten it. The pen this stranger was offering you was one that looked similar enough to the kinds you’d seen passed among your friends a hundred times before that you felt comfortable taking one hit, maybe. Two max.

You felt stupid as soon as you’d sucked in every breath, but you ended up taking four hits in total.

You hacked and sputtered and blinked up at Connor, who was grinning big.

“Alright, hardass,” he chuckled, taking back the device.

“Daddy know you smoke?” Wyatt cut in with a sneer.

Daddy?

There was no fucking way Joel looked that old for everyone to think he was your father. You inwardly cringed.

“Y’all been spying on us?”

“Ain’t shit else to do around here.” That was Blake.

You tried to swallow but found your throat much drier than it had been before. And not just from the weed.

“He doesn’t care,” you said, managing a shrug.

It wasn’t entirely false. Joel did give no fucks about you.

“Dude looks like a— a fuckin’ DEA agent or something,” Micah said, amused.

“Like that guy from Narcos,” Trent snickered.

You’d never seen the show and didn’t particularly care to know what law enforcement archetype Joel appeared to embody—in fact, you didn’t want to discuss him at all.

Just as the first fuzzy beads of warmth began to roll into your head, you were already planning your exit strategy. Thank Connor for his selfless assistance and cannabis, bid the group a good night and the best of luck in their upcoming lax tournament, and be done with this shit, ASAP. You were still trying to steady your tongue in the bone-dry cavern that had become your mouth when one of them kicked at a near-empty case of beer at their feet.

“We’re about out.” Micah announced.

Seconds later, Connor was turning to you.

“Wanna…restock in our room?” he asked, the corners of his lips twisting into a smile as he looked down at you.

You crinkled your nose and shook your head. Connor leaned his whole weight against the vending machine between you, seeming unconvinced by your answer.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, “I think you wanna come.”

“Do I?”

You only entertained the backtalk because your brain was currently swimming in a far-off, pleasant void of contentment and indifference. Every sharp edge dulled in your mind, to an extent, and your body at ease. You didn’t have to be home to anyone, anytime, and Joel was probably halfway plastered at a dive bar down the road. You didn’t move back when Connor stepped forward.

He wasn’t even that close. You could leave whenever you pleased.

“For sure. I think you’d enjoy our shitty beer and even shittier company. We can smoke some more, too.”

The man certainly had a way with words. He muscled in a bit closer.

“You think so?” you hummed.

“I do. I really do.”

“And you’re willing to risk the wrath of my dad if he finds out where I am?” You made it sound like a challenge.

“Wyatt can fight.”

Connor motioned toward his friend, who was mindlessly chomping on deer jerky in his lawn chair off to the side, glossy-eyed and hammered. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, but make sure he’s ready. I can only stay for five.”

Connor seemed wounded as he put a hand over his heart in mock dismay.

“Only five minutes?” he griped, “Why not ten? Or twenty?”

“Six.”

“Fifteen at least.”

You folded your arms over your chest and felt an opaque haze beginning to settle over your brain. It wasn’t quite a high, just a lightness of being that drove tender little streaks up your spine. Like Joel, tickling at your sides while you writhed around in the front seat of his car.

This time you took the beer Connor offered and cracked it open. He seemed pleased—and taken by surprise—to see you down the drink in spite of the overflowing foam.

“Ten,” you returned once you’d swallowed it all.

“Twenty.”

“Honey?”

The last voice didn’t belong to anyone in the group. You turned on your heels and almost coughed up your beer.

It was Joel, of course.

Standing at the threshold of the breezeway like a surly, disconcerted parent, of all things, watching you like he’d just caught you red-handed in the most horrific of acts.

Clutched in one hand was a Burger King takeout bag.

“Daddy. Hi,” you breathed.

Apparently your attempt at casual came across more slurred than anything else, because Joel stepped closer.

‘Let’s go’ was all he said. No accusations, no threats, no outward displays of emotion found anywhere on his face. Just a gruff ‘Let’s go,’ and a free hand reaching for yours.

Instinctively, you recoiled.

“We’re just talking,” you said, gesturing behind you. If you could have seen the uniform looks of discomfort and agita, damn near treading on fear, among them all, you probably wouldn’t have bothered.

“Good. Now you’re leaving,” Joel supplied in a moment.

He was blissfully indifferent. Asserting his will in a space where, less than one hour ago, he couldn’t bear to share a room with you, much less impart a shred of dignity or care to your condition. He had nerve, that was for sure.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, a touch more venom in your voice than you intended.

Joel raised both eyebrows.

“No?”

His expression, directed to you, was infuriating.

“Fuck no,” you answered.

A few of the guys behind you sucked in a breath as if to say, ‘Okaaaaay, time to go!’ but then Joel pressed,

“For someone who wants to be treated like an adult—”

“Adult?” you scoffed, “You treat me plenty like an adult, Joel. Just whenever the designation suits your needs, huh?”

No one moved.

Well, Joel flinched a bit. Then he squeezed your wrist.

Truly, you never failed to underestimate the man’s brute strength when it came to carrying you off at will—but there you were, being yanked behind the big, bad Joel Miller as he hauled you off to who-knows-where. You scowled but didn’t bother to steal a glance behind you at the beer, boys, or vending machine treats you were being forced to abandon. All you could do was stare a hole through Joel’s skull and tug back—largely ineffectually.

“You’re an ass,” you spat, digging your heels into the gravel terrain as he pulled you along.

“You’re a brat,” he fired back.

In a minute, the exterior of Room 102 was coming into view; Joel was practically toting your ass like a knapsack.

“You just abandoned me back here, Miller. You— you don’t get to pretend like you give a fuck now.”

“I was getting you Burger King, for Christ’s sake.”

Joel was fiddling with the lock now. Simultaneously juggling your hand, the paper bag, and a set of keys that didn’t seem keen on cooperating, he huffed, disgruntled.

“Even got you those—” Joel grunted, thrusting his shoulder into the door, “—fuckin’ curly fries you wanted.”

Your jaw slackened. That was supposed to make it okay?

“Joel, FUCK your curly fries!” you cried, “Are you seriously still trying to play good guy right now?”

“If that’s what you—”

“No. You don’t get to tonguefuck your friend’s daughter and buy her a goddamn Double Whopper and act like it’s all good. Sure as hell don’t get to dictate who I talk to.”

Like he had before, Joel cringed to hear your crude language—particularly as it related to what he had done to you but didn’t seem capable of owning up to just yet. You couldn’t bear another second of that look.

“Fuck this. I’m sleeping in the car,” you grumbled.

You thrashed your arm out of Joel’s hold and started off in the other direction. Picked up your pace when you heard the bag of fast food drop to the ground and Joel trotting after you. Calling your name.

Even at your most brisk, you knew you couldn’t outstrip those big, beefy legs of his. He gained on you in seconds.

So you took off running.

Joel gripped his side, thinking, ‘Aw, hell’ before breaking out in a sprint just as fast.

You were pissed at how far he’d parked this time around. You caught sight of the old Bronco perched a ways away from your room and almost opted to change course on the spot, to the front office—maybe dive behind the counter and beg that poor old woman to give you another place to stay—but you kept at it, anyway. For once, you were glad to have had Joel beat by so many years, because the man’s endurance was, evidently, shit.

“Hey, s— stop!” Joel shouted after you.

Fat chance, Miller.

You closed in on the car. Joel rarely ever locked it.

Your hand secured a grip on the door and jerked it back. It swung right open.

Just as Joel was pulling up the rear, you had the driver’s side slammed shut and your palm laid flat on the door lock knob—shoving the little black lever down each time Joel tried to unlock the car.

It was a fruitless endeavor, you knew; you couldn’t keep the man out all night so long as he had the car keys in his hands. You could piss him off some more, though.

“You won the fucking game, just take the bed!” you said, straining against the door with your weight pressed hard on that knob. Joel was furiously working to get it open.

“I mean it, Joel, I-I don’t wanna sleep in there wi— shit.”

You leapt back in your seat as Joel flung the door wide open. You scrambled across the center console, made a desperate grasp at the passenger door to climb out the other side, but your ankle was taken between two hands. Just as you tried to slink out on the opposite end of the vehicle, Joel pulled you right back in. Flipped the center console up so you were sprawled flat across the bucket seat at the front of his car and pinned underneath him.

Then he pulled you over his lap.

Not into it—nestled on top of his crotch, with your ass pointing up in the air. Joel’s big ass Carhartt jacket was bunching up around your torso, collar crowding you up to the chin. Your twisted just far enough to meet his gaze.

“What do you want from me?” Joel demanded, “What?”

You stared up at him, poring over your options in the span of what seemed like two milliseconds. Wondering, silently, why he wasn’t touching you anywhere.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel,” you replied at length.

Seated between driver’s side and shotgun, Joel looked perfectly unperturbed, raking a hand through his silver-flecked hair and letting his gaze trail up to the ceiling, as if considering something of grave importance.

“And what after that?” he asked, still staring at the roof.

Before you could reply, though, he was forging ahead,

“What happens when I can’t even look your dad in the eye knowin’ I’ve been balls deep in his little girl, and every fuckin’ time I’m over at your house or you’re over at mine, I’ll be thinkin’— no, dreamin’ of what it was like to have you wrapped around my cock, screamin’ my name and takin’ it so deep inside you like I know ya want it?”

You paused a beat. Had to bat your eyes a couple times to rid your head of those filthy thoughts he’d planted.

“We could, uh— fuck…then…too,” you ventured quietly.

Joel grinned at the spot he was watching, humorless.

“That easy, huh?” he mumbled.

Again, before you could speak, Joel continued,

“I can’t even cum with you on my mind,” he said, and for a split second you thought that might mean he wasn’t attracted to you in that way, when he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, “I’ve tried beating off twice today—in the bathroom and as soon as I left earlier—and I can’t…even get close with you here. You fuck with my head.”

You fuck with my head.

Without meaning to, your hips stirred over his, and Joel audibly groaned. At last, he dropped a palm to your ass and gave it a taut smack, and your whole lower half reverberated with the sensation—and a welt of pleasure.

“You think I want it to be like this?” Joel said, voice strained, fingers kneading over the flesh he’d just struck, “Think I enjoy havin’ the biggest set’a fuckin’ blue balls known to man whenever I’m around ya, honey?”

You winced when you were spanked again, letting out a whimper into the seat’s charcoal-colored upholstery.

“I can help with that,” you hissed, feeling him massage the spot once more. You arched your back into his touch.

“No. You’d make it worse,” Joel shook his head, “Once I get a feel inside this sweet cunt I’ll never wanna stop.”

At the soft rumble of his words, you felt yourself growing aroused. Noticeably so. Your skin broke out in broad swaths of gooseflesh every place he touched, and in the wake of those hands grew a pool of dull warmth. Sticky, slick, soak-straight-through-your-shorts sort of warmth.

Joel’s hand hovered about an inch from the source.

“We’d get bored eventually. It’d be fine,” you said, words crawling off of your parched tongue with some difficulty now. That faint, heady feeling from before had become a high, finally, and it seemed every sense you possessed was ablaze with desire. You were barely able to breathe, much less speak, but there you went, rambling anyway,

“Soon enough, you’ll get over the thrill of screwing me, and I’ll find a nice, polite, age-appropriate boy to spend the rest of my life having nice, polite sex with, and we can both pretend like this never happened. Deal?”

It was quite possibly the dumbest offer you’d ever made.

Joel slotted his hand between your legs to rub against that dampened patch of fabric. You almost jumped.

“Yeah? Just fuck around and forget about it?” Joel spoke, and you truly couldn’t tell if it was a sneer or real sincerity, as your eyes were squeezing shut, “Is that all you want from me, sugar?”

His fingers slipped beneath your shorts and made swift, easy contact with your heat. You buried your face in the seat and tried to muffle the sounds that were clawing their way out of your chest, while your hips tilted up.

“Please, Joel,” you whimpered.

By now, your head was spinning, in a daze, that you almost didn’t notice him tug your shorts down your legs. Or take them off at your ankles. You did get a sense of when he was breaching your folds—taking two, meaty fingers and trailing them up the slick glaze of your cunt.

“Doesn’t seem like this pussy wants ‘nice and polite’ to me,” Joel murmured, eyes gradually fastening to that lovely, exposed spot pointed up to him. He wet his lips, “Needs somethin’ else, doesn’t she, darlin’?”

Speaking of your pussy in third-person wasn’t something you ever thought could be hot, but coming from Joel? While his fingers traced up and down the seal of your entrance, tips circling your tight, hot, throbbing hole? Arousing didn’t even begin to cover it.

You pushed your ass back, and Joel chuckled above you.

“Wanna fuck daddy’s fingers? Is that it?” he taunted.

No, no, no—you wanted his cock buried inside you. But now you just needed reprieve from that ache, and your senses were practically on the fritz trying to get it.

Your hips rocked back and forth over his fingers—sliding the two digits in and out of your cunt with each motion—and, as much as Joel would’ve liked to make you beg and wait a little, your desperate pleas as you fucked his hand were more than enough to satiate him. He worked his free arm under your body and pinched hard on one nipple, eliciting a soft moan of ‘Joel’ underneath him.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, watching you rut your hips for more friction, “That’s it, baby, fuck daddy’s fingers. Use my hand to make yourself feel good— that’s my girl.”

At the last, you probably could’ve cum on the spot, and Joel could tell by the way you clenched around him. He nudged a third finger between your plush, sensitive walls and heard your moans take on an even higher pitch.

“Hurts,” you whimpered, with no real indication of pain. You just felt stretched out, stuffed, and aching again. The only ‘hurt’ was not having even more of him in you, “Need more of you daddy, please. It hurts.”

Joel wanted to see you cum on his fingers. He really did. But when you got down to begging and pleading for his cock like that, the man’s whole heartbeat throbbed in his jeans, and he simply didn’t possess the resolve to refuse.

He hoisted you upright in his lap so you were straddling his hips. The fabric of his jacket hung loose off your frame and both of your arms as you latched around him.

“Are you high?” Joel asked, voice evening out all of a sudden to pin you with a serious look.

“Yeah.”

“How high?”

“I can consent, Joel.” Your thighs tightened around his sides, and your hips had already begun to stir.

“Not just can consent—do consent. Do you want this?” Joel’s hands moved from the small of your back to cup your face. You gave him a squished-together pout.

“Yes, I want this,” you managed through pinched cheeks. When Joel released you, you lowered your own hands to the buckle of his belt.

It felt foreign and familiar at once—this age-old ritual of fumbling for each other’s clothes and wrestling to get them off, like your bodies might catch fire if you didn’t act fast enough. Joel was a tad more graceful as he shrugged his jacket off of you, peeled your tank top off, and helped you maneuver your bare limbs around him. You, on the other hand, felt half-feral and every bit the wide-eyed novice while you stripped his body garment by garment and wordlessly told him just leave the jeans, I can’t wait another fucking second. Joel bit back a grin and had to steady you above him, feeling his cock twitch against his tummy but still slowing down enough to remind you, shhh, shhh, honey, it ain’t goin’ nowhere.

You had a tough time remembering that as you rubbed your wet centre over his shaft. Feeling so good you feared the feeling might escape any second, you whined.

“I know, baby, I know,” Joel cooed as your head fell in the crook of his neck, “Still hurtin’ somethin’ awful, hm?”

The tip of his cock just barely grazed over your clit and you buried your face even deeper, nodding furiously; Joel leaned forward to grab some item out of the glove compartment behind you and braced your body to him.

He tore something with his teeth. You craned your neck just slightly.

“Don’t laugh,” Joel muttered, voice momentarily stifled by bright, metallic wrapping.

“Is that…” You straightened up enough to cock a brow at him. Joel’s tongue rolled across the inside of his cheek.

“Cobwebs and all.”

Beneath your gaze was the flimsiest, dust-ridden, damn-near vintage condom—a decade old, at least.

“You buy that before or after the Great Depression?” you teased.

“Shut up.” Joel was already working it onto his dick.

“So Prohibition-coded.”

“I can find something to shove in that mouth, y’know.”

You were having too much fun at the old man’s expense, blissfully unaware that Joel was about one Gen X joke away from making you suck three of his arousal-soaked fingers. When you opened your mouth to speak—to try another wisecrack or else question the integrity of this ancient relic of a rubber—Joel crashed his lips against yours and made you mute with his tongue instead.

At the same time, he slowly eased himself inside you.

Your mouth fell open when you sank down on his length, fully, but no sound came out. You just gripped Joel’s shoulders and peered into his face as if to say, ‘Shit.’

No way any man was ever meant to feel this good.

No shot your walls were fitting his cock like a glove.

Joel soaked in your gaping, wordless stare with a nod.

“Good?”

“Great.”

You’d give all eight inches of the man a goddamn standing ovation if your legs weren’t feeling like jelly. Joel let out a small grunt when you clenched around him.

“Nice and…easy,” he said, as much to himself as to you. He pinched your hip in one gigantic hand and held you there, “Let ya take a second and adjust, alright, darlin’?”

“But Joel—” you whined, already trying to slide back up.

His grip kept you impaled on his dick, anchored in place. With the other hand, he brought a thumb to your clit.

“Just feel me, sweet pea,” Joel said, slow and languid as molasses while he touched you, “Ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

You couldn’t be sure if the man was a sadist or the world’s biggest fan of cockwarming—or just polite.

The bare, slightly-less-sexy truth was that Joel hadn’t done this in a very, very long time. Even the sex he’d had, close to a year ago, was something more of a flashbang than a bona fide carnal experience; he’d just bent a perfect stranger over the bathroom sink and drilled her. This was a fever dream, a first to end all firsts, and at present, Joel felt himself toeing a razor-thin line between self-restraint and bliss by just your presence alone.

In short, he didn’t want to fuck it up by busting too soon.

When you rolled your hips and squeezed your eyes shut above him, well, Joel almost fell into a panic.

Think of golf. Differential equations. The weather in Kuwait. Anything to get his mind off of how tight your pussy was holding him in, how lithe your body worked to grind above him while he sat there, so helpless and—

“Big,” you whined, stretched to the fullest you’d ever been. Unable to bounce up and down like you wanted but still squirming for more friction, “So big, daddy.”

Hockey. Geometry. Wind patterns around the Maldives. He held you even tighter, but your motions were growing desperate. You had to start moving.

“Joel, please,” you begged him.

“Baby, I’m—”

About to cum. I am two seconds away from cumming.

“Need you now, need you so—” your voice broke off in a moan as you sank your nails into his muscly shoulders, “So bad, daddy, please, please, please—”

On the seat beside you both, your phone lit up, buzzing:

Dad 💙

Fuck.

FUCK.

Your eyes locked on Joel’s in a shared look of panic and horror, and for once, your bodies stopped, perfectly still.

You knew your dad too well. Just as much as Joel did.

Your father wasn’t the type to call late at night unless something was up. And he wouldn’t stop calling until someone picked up.

“Should we…?” That whisper came from you.

Joel was frozen in fear, eyes now glued to the screen.

“Just…give it a sec,” he breathed, “Might be nothing.”

But his tone couldn’t mask the dread behind his words. He gritted his teeth and watched the phone ring.

It stopped.

Then started again.

The pair of you clung to one other in the old Ford’s bucket seat like your dad might veritably hear the two of you having sex from 1,300 miles away if you moved.

It stopped once more.

The screen stayed black.

You let out a small sigh and felt your eyes start to close.

Then the trill of a ringtone under Joel’s ass started up the second they’d fluttered shut, and suddenly your gaze was wide, and frightened, and freaking the fuck out when you realized that your dad was trying to reach Joel.

“Answer,” you hissed.

“What?!” The whites of Joel’s eyes were bigger now than you’d ever seen them.

“He’ll know something’s up! Just—” you slipped your hand under Joel’s rear, completely devoid of any sexual insinuation this time, and yanked his old iPhone 6 out of his pants, “Answer it. Now. Be cool.”

Joel’s expression was still paralyzed with terror, but he brought the ringing phone to his ear anyway. Gingerly tapped ‘answer’ once you’d smacked him on the bicep.

“He-e-y man.”

You were so fucking dead.

Your face hovered mere inches away, and you could almost hear the warble of your father’s voice on the line.

“Great,” Joel answered, stilted as a puppet with someone’s hand up its ass, “So good. How are you?”

A beat.

“She’s good, she’s good.”

For a moment, Joel’s gaze flitted to the spot where your bodies were still connected and you saw a flash of desire, followed by guilt, then his head tip back to close his eyes as he tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand.

“In the bathroom…Uh-huh…Phone must be dead…”

“No, she’s been a trooper—just fine…”

“Somewhere just shy’a Bedford, I think…”

You listened to Joel drone on and clench his jaw, and every now and then you’d feel a squelch in that tiny space between you two when one of you moved, and it occurred to you then that it probably was not in your best interest to stay seated on his dick while he talked. You shifted your legs underneath yourself to get up.

When you started to slide up Joel’s shaft—the first time you’d ever really moved, mind you—you felt a knot in your tummy start to tighten. The friction was to die for.

You sank back down and heard a hoarse little cry spill out from your lips before you got the chance to swallow it.

At the same time, Joel groaned. Then stopped himself. Then coughed—profusely.

“Sorry, just got a little—” Suddenly, a fiery set of eyes were searing holes in your head, angry as they were desperate, “—tickle in my throat is all.”

You ignored the strained Southern drawl and the eyes that looked ready to put a bullet between your own, and you rocked your hips again. The sensation was just too good. Your body practically acted of its own accord, and suddenly you were bouncing up and down in Joel’s lap.

The man beneath you looked enraged. Aroused.

Ready to wring your neck and maybe spit in your mouth.

“World’s movin’ too. damn. fast,” Joel seethed, trying to communicate to you semi-covertly while you rode his cock, “She’s one hell of a— firecracker, man, I’ll tell ya.”

You heard your dad’s laughter on the other end. While the sound subsided to chuckles, Joel grabbed your neck. He covered the mouthpiece for a second, then, in a murmur,

“This is not a fucking game.”

He squeezed your throat so tight you probably could’ve lost all circulation going to your head, but you smiled.

In spite of the hot, glowing embers of pleasure taking shape at the pit of your stomach and the coil that kept twisting and swelling inside, you grinned down at him. Then you mouthed, softly, ‘Yes, it is,’ and you rocked your hips against him even harder.

Joel drew in a breath through his teeth and watched you ride him with bleary, half-hooded eyes—keeping one hand on your carotid as the other hand cradled the phone to his ear. The man was transfixed.

By the pinch of just one set of fingers, you knew you were done for. A dwindling supply of oxygen, combined with your high and the hundreds of nerve-endings being brushed by Joel’s cock every other moment, you were spiraling toward release and didn’t know how to stop it.

When Joel pursed his lips and lifted his hips to start fucking up into you, you had to let go. Couldn’t hold on. You grabbed hold of his forearm, still hovering across your throat, and you moaned as the bliss washed over you. You slid your needy lower half back and forth, squeezed that tanned, tough arm practically bulging with veins above you, and you came around Joel’s cock. You whimpered his name, again and again, feeling him stroke your walls and fuck you through a euphoric high.

The next thing you felt was the seat cushion behind you—and the shift of Joel’s body weight pinning you down.

His cock hadn’t slipped an inch when he flipped you over; his grip was still secure on the phone.

The only thing that had changed was that look: malicious and vindictive with the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Joel felt you pulse around him, starting to come down from your high, and he just decided to fuck you even harder.

“Shouldn’t be much longer now…” Joel hummed aloud, lowering a hand to your throbbing clit and muttering a soft ‘Uh-huh’ to your father while you clawed at his wrist.

“Joel,” you choked.

Now the feeling was too much. You were still so wet, raw, and sensitive that the pad of his thumb almost drew a shriek from your chest when he moved his finger in circles. You heard them chat about football. Joel shared a short, strained laugh with the man on the other end and pretended not to hear your whines as he continued to rail you senseless in the front seat of his car.

With the diversion of the phone call keeping his own climax at bay, Joel was free to fuck you as rough as he pleased—and couldn’t be more in awe seeing you veer close to the edge, again.

“Please, daddy, please,” you beseeched him, tears springing to your eyes as Joel’s thrusts kept shaking you.

He just shook his head and smiled as if to say, ‘Hold still.’

“It’ll be fine,” he said, “Mahomes is next-level. Best they can do is keep their heads down and take it, y’know?”

Your own soft, aching hole was taking the beating of a lifetime, and somehow, you managed to meet Joel’s gaze with a look that almost struck him as loving. That blissed-out, cockdrunk look of pure debauchery crossing your eyes in a way he hadn’t come to find in ages, if ever, was intoxicating. He felt the first fluttering pulses of your orgasm squeeze around him again, and suddenly he was pumping you faster, drilling you harder, gripping your throat and starting to sense his own climax draw near.

He couldn’t finish off like this.

Not talking shop and Super Bowl to your father—no.

Joel had to do something you might rightly hate him for for the rest of your life, and never forget, or forgive.

He lowered the phone, and right before he did, said,

“She just stepped outta the bathroom, actually. No, yeah, she’s right here. Wanna say hello?”

Your heart skipped a beat and nearly jumped into your throat. You tried to shake your head—fast—and even went so far as to try and dodge the phone when Joel brought it down to your ear, but that motherfucker had a grip like you couldn’t believe and wouldn’t stop stroking inside you or holding you down. You hated that you found Joel’s total dominance and control…kind of hot.

You flashed him the most nasty, bratty, ‘I’ll get you for this, Joel’ look you could muster anyway, and when he pressed the phone to your cheek, you mouthed a few more silent expletives before changing your air entirely:

“Hey, dad!”

Joel knew he was cooked from the second you said hello. Something objectively malevolent inside him got a rush to hear you speak to your dad in such a contrived, high-pitched tone of voice, knowing the unspeakable things he was doing to your body the whole fucking time. He could focus, now, with no need for any strained civilities of his own, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t last long. He would not last long.

Might as well make it fun while it lasts.

“He…did,” you hummed, flitting your eyes up to Joel when he brushed your lower lip with his thumb—still holding the phone up for you while he rutted into you, “No, nuh-uh…Mr…Mr. Miller didn’t mind, no sir.”

Shit, the sound of you saying ‘sir’ was something that made Joel’s whole body lurch with pleasure. He made a mental note to have you call him that later and stroked your lip once more.

You tried to turn your face away—telling Joel, wordlessly, that you couldn’t keep up this conversation with your father if you had a thumb in your fucking mouth, but Joel didn’t care. He watched you pause for a moment, let just the tip of his finger press into your tongue, then, battling your better judgment, wrap your lips around the digit almost cautiously and suck. He knew you liked it, too.

He knew it by the way you bobbed your head, hummed, and nodded every time he thrust inside your aching walls and dragged his cock back out. The way your teeth clamped hard on his thumb whenever he grazed a particularly sensitive spot and how your lips held him in like a gag, or some other thing to keep you quiet amidst the moans and the whimpers bubbling up in your chest.

Suddenly, Joel was at your other ear, lips grazing skin and tongue praising your every move.

“My sweet girl.”

“Doin’ such a good job stayin�� quiet.”

“Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, aren’t ya, darlin’?”

From that point on, every single one of your father’s words over the phone fell on deaf ears—all you could hear was Joel. All you could feel was Joel. Your lips parted as if starting to speak, but all that would come out were small puffs of air, perfectly in sync with each one of Joel’s thrusts.

“You okay, hon? You sound…distracted,” your dad pressed. A hint of concern rose from his end of the line.

At length, Joel gripped both of your legs and brought them up over his shoulders, and he grinned before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.

“Yes!” you yelped as you crushed the phone to your ear, hoping your father couldn’t hear any of the filthy sounds down below, “Just a little stretched—I mean stressed out, is all.”

The sick, smug fuck currently wedged eight inches deep inside you almost burst out laughing. If you weren’t so perilously close to your fourth orgasm of the night, you would’ve told Joel to take a long walk off a short bridge.

“Just worried about grades a-a-and all,” you stammered.

Joel leaned forward and almost tore a scream out of your chest—his tip was kissing the edge of your cervix now.

“Yes, sir. I will.” You tried your hardest not to whine and almost let out a sigh, “I’ll…ask him about it, for sure.”

As bone-crushingly fun as this all was, Joel was close.

He could feel it in the furthest recesses of his stomach; he was about to blow his load.

So, leveraging his weight to strike just the right angle and pushing his thumb in to stifle your moans, Joel sped up and drew even closer, face-to-face, so he could see your every expression from a hair’s breadth away.

He was so near he could hear your dad’s droning voice. See you struggle to take cock the closer you got to your release. You hadn’t cum in such quick succession…ever, really. All but one of the guys you’d let between your legs before seemed like amateurs compared to Joel, and to be honest, you weren’t sure if you could make it to four.

You popped his thumb out of your mouth and mumbled some ‘Sure, okay’ or other to your dad before casting a pleading look up at Joel. His hips were working up to a ruthless pace.

You covered the mouthpiece.

“I can’t, Joel.”

“Sure you can, sugar.”

“Joel,” you hissed, and tried to grab his wrist, when you felt your stomach start to cave. Every exposed inch of skin gave way to waves of heat, and your toes curled in. Worst of all, Joel was letting out sounds you hadn’t ever heard—short, ragged breaths that broke off in low groans—and it felt as though he were cradling your head. Holding you to him. Your eyes were locked on one another, your mouths practically panting in time, and what parts of you had not yet become commingled with him were practically coated with sweat. And shaking.

Then, in tones that rang like music to your ears:

“Alright, I’ll let ya head to bed, then. G’night, pumpkin.”

Your dad hadn’t even fully hung up the phone before you flung it across the car. Heels dug deep in Joel’s back.

“Cum for daddy,” Joel coaxed, “Cum all over this cock.”

You didn’t need much more instigation than that.

You came. He followed.

And it probably split his eardrum in two having his name screamed so fucking loud, but frankly, Joel hadn’t seen a reason for going deaf that he could’ve enjoyed so much.

Then, he didn’t sink so much as simply collapse on top of you while you both kicked back and let the waves of ecstasy roll over you. You adored his warmth in spite of the heat practically suffocating you both in that car.

Until it was in you.

Sticky, sweet dripping inside you.

You pushed Joel hard in the shoulder.

“Did it…”

“What?”

“Joel!”

You flipped your legs down and tapped his abdomen furiously, telling him, pull out, pull out right fucking now, and Joel gently obliged. Dragged his cock three-fourths of the way out when a frail, tattered condom came loose around the head of his cock and almost fell off entirely. That damn prehistoric rubber had broken inside you.

“JOEL!”

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I— fuck.”

Joel scrambled to get his cum-drenched cock and what remained of the condom away from your body, but the damage was done. You started throwing on clothes.

“I’m ovulating this week, I am so fucking fucked!”

Joel swallowed, shimmying his boxers and jeans back into place and scoping the front seat for his shirt.

“What’s…ovulating?”

You wanted to tear your hair out at the root.

There was no way this man had survived half a century on earth and didn’t understand the menstrual cycle.

“It means I can get pregnant if we don’t get a Plan B up in this bitch immediately. Let’s GO!”

That part seemed to click. Joel almost fell over himself trying to find his keys, while you slid out of the Bronco.

“Where are you going?!”

“To— to try and get some of this shit out of me first!”

Joel bounded after you, and within the first steps, you were sprinting across the parking lot. Your sweaty, half-naked companion tried—and failed—to slow you down.

“Are you not on birth control?” Joel huffed.

“Are you not capable of buying condoms more than once every fucking decade—or three?” you snapped.

Your strides were growing wider and more frantic by the second. Joel clutched his side and struggled to keep up.

“I’m…sorry,” he grunted, more embarrassed and worn-out than anything at the moment, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t get your cum out of me, daddy.”

Your words couldn’t have gotten any more caustic or merciless—or inopportune—if you tried.

As it was, you were passing by the breezeway where all the bored lacrosse players were still lounging around, cracking cold ones, and craning their necks to see what the fuss outside was all about. The sounds of your feet racing fast on gravel and you and Joel’s raucous, bickering back-and-forth had caught their attention, and shortly, Connor was sticking his head around the corner. His expression—along with all the faces behind him—had twisted with horror. Confusion. A visible look of disgust.

Joel had just slowed down to catch his breath. He doubled over and braced both hands on his knees.

“I’ll fuckin’…duct tape my dick next time I hit it, honey!” he wheezed, barely loud enough for you to hear but perfectly audible to all the terrified guys around him.

Joel turned his head and almost groaned.

Then he was straightening himself back up, starting to retreat from the group who had him pinned with genuinely frightened—and nauseated—looks.

Joel normally wouldn’t care. This time, though, he threw his hands up and thought, fuck it, I’ll clear the air.

Over his shoulder, he grinned, yelling back to the guys:

“I’m not actually her dad!”

All of them stared back. Half-jealous, half-awestruck, Connor stood up, raised his beer, and called after him:

“I SURE FUCKIN’ HOPE YOU’RE NOT!”

#NO ONE SPEAK TO ME FOR AT LEAST A WEEK #THIS IS DISGUSTING #I AM DISGUSTING #DO NOT PERCEIVE ME PLEASEJE HAHAHAHAH #brain rot ❤️#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel

9K notes · View notes

heegyukeluv · 26 days

Text

I offer you my everything (lhs)

pairing: heeseung x afab!reader

synopsis: You never cared about sex, until you did. You grew too afraid of it, scared of disappointing the other person or showing your inexperience. But then you met Heeseung, the hot basketball captain that stole your heart and became your biggest fantasy.

my's note: i loved working in this so much. also i wanna emphasize that for god’s sake do not “lose” your virginity due to pressure or anything related to others. do it because you want to!! take your time, there’s no such thing as being too old for it neither need to rush. you have to enjoy it! that being said, i hope you enjoy this writing 🤭

warnings: fluff, pet names, explicit language, reader is insecure about having sex and some other things, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, virginity loss, kinda pillow princess reader (she doesn’t know what to do, so she just lay down and enjoy), protected sex 💪🏻, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), quick handjob. lmk if I missed something!

wc: 21k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire

Entering college was your dream come true.

There was a whole fantasy of how your life would change for the better, the new ways of seeing life, dealing with problems – new problems!, meeting new people, going to university parties, starting your adult life. Everything sounded ethereal, almost utopian, and although you were a very down-to-earth type of person, you never stopped your imagination from flowing through the excitedly new unexplored area.

You used to have a very simple and ordinary life in your hometown, going to school everyday, getting great grades, not really engaging with romantic relationships and having a normal amount of friends and people who cared about you.

Your parents were good people but quite strict with how you should live your life. It wasn’t much of a problem because whatever they were afraid of you getting into and “losing yourself” wasn’t really your cup of tea; you never really cared about having a boyfriend or a girlfriend – and your dad vehemently explained to you how disappointed he would be if you started to date someone with no goals in life or whatever. Doing drugs was way out of your interests, but you were very curious about the whole alcohol thing. And well, you wanted to become a journalist one day, so you pretty much studied for it and made your parents proud of you.

Overall your life was very… vanilla. And a strong part of you wanted it to be a bit spicy.

Not in an exaggerated way – and you had no problem with who wanted their lives to be –, nevertheless you wanted to really live the university experience, so your first months in college were actually dreamy, especially for being away from your parents’ grip and finally trying the taste of what freedom felt like.

You met your classmates and respectives professors, you got to know better about the available clubs and how to enter them, and you met your roommate, Ryujin, which thankfully ended up having enough common interests with you to make a healthy friendship grow.

Making friends wasn’t a big problem to you as well, because even though you normally showed a very reserved version of yourself at the beginning, people around you just fell for your charms naturally, wanting to be close to you for your aura at first and then because of how supportive and funny you were once they got to know you better.

Now, in your second year, you already had a spot on a small group of friends, who everyday would try to meet during lunch time to catch up on things and not freak out with the amount of assignments they were dealing with.

The conversation always flowed nicely, you never felt insecure about sharing a piece of your mind with them since they listened to you well. You were really glad to have people like that in your daily life.

However, there was a single topic that you often would shut up about to avoid being the center of attention, and the said topic was an ongoing conversation right at that moment.

“I need to get laid,” Julie, one of your closest friends, said in a very dramatic way. You forced a smile that you were pretty sure that looked very awkwardly placed on your face.

You could feel your heart beating fast with the idea of you becoming the subject in that conversation.

“What you really need is a good night's sleep,” Yunjin added with a chuckle, patting Julie’s head who shot a slightly upset look back at her.

“For that I need to sit on someone. Like, I can literally feel my body aching for a dick,” she explained, keeping the drama in her tone as if she was sick. There was a reason for Julie to be in the theater club afterall.

“For God’s sake,” Yunjin muttered, rolling her eyes but not really bothered by her friend’s behavior. She was pretty much used to it at this point, and well, quite the same but with girls.

You just watched as they both bickered with each other, hoping for you to stay out the fire and wondering when that conversation would finally become just a reminiscence of your day.

There was no shame on you for being a virgin. It was quite literally your choice since having sex was your last priority during your teenage years although you had guys interested in you in that aspect.

You weren't expecting the right one, your prince charming, nor to get married before. You just never cared much about having sex, and once you started to care you never felt comfortable enough with someone to show yourself so vulnerable, so openly like sex seemed to be.

Once your university life started to kick in and attending parties became a part of your weekends, you really thought that you would finally be able to free yourself enough to have someone with you in a bed, naked, doing sexual things or whatever. But what really happened was you feeling endlessly frustrated with yourself for panicking, finding lame excuses to run away from the possibility of having sex every time a makeout session started to be a bit more intense.

Alongside that often reaction of yours, you went through a tough moment with a specific guy, one you let yourself comfortable around, leading to you one day being in his bedroom while sharing a passionate kiss. With the amount of reassurance he showed you through the whole moments you were just flirting, you thought that sharing that you never had sex before wouldn’t be a problem. He was about to undress you from your bra when you told him, and then he halted his movements, overreacting as he said “I’m no sex teacher to teach college girls how to have sex”.

You never felt so humiliated in your whole life. Not only it became a trigger but also a new thing to overthink; the fact that some guys would see you as too innocent for their sex drive, refusing to do anything with you.

Nevertheless, you were still a woman with desires, with a libido waiting to be directed and mostly, curiosity.

Your mind would flee to dirty, lascivious places whenever you saw a character you found attractive, such as actors, singers or even real life crushes, sometimes doing the bare minimum but still sparkling in your sexual self, wetting your panties – and in those days you blamed your ovulation.

But the moment you tried to fulfill your fantasies with real people, your body refused to relax, your mind never stopping from the constant overthinking about either disappointing or just showing how inexperienced in the practical area you were, ending up embarrassing yourself.

Since you also never looked out for the help of your friends, none of them knew about that part of your life and you always shared a silent feeling of gratitude for the lack of their interest in that area.

The whole theme being a main focus on conversations constantly made you pretty uncomfortable, because everyone showed to enjoy their sexual lives fully, without any problems like you.

Although you had very incredible friends that you could rely on, you couldn’t help but feel the anxiety of being judged by them, so you always opted to stay quiet or managed to redirect the discussion.

As if someone had listened to your prayers, you noticed another friend of yours – Jake – coming in your direction with a big smile, his backpack hanging loose off his shoulders and someone a bit too familiar alongside him.

You waited for them to be closer to try to recognize the strange and… Shit.

Your breath got stuck in your airlines when you realized that the guy with Jake was Lee Heeseung.

Your eyes followed how he took a seat in front of Jake, who sat beside you. None of your friends stopped the playful argument when they both arrived at the table, and for a little while you were glad for that, because you for sure couldn’t hide your surprised face and sudden dizziness for having Heeseung that close, looking unnecessarily attractive with his usual sly grin, messy black hair and strong presence.

Heeseung was the basketball captain of your university team.

You harbored a love for sports since childhood, not in a way of being a player but a watcher. During the first weeks of college you discovered that your university had a basketball team and you got really intrigued. Since then, it became your hobby to go over and watch them practicing during your free time or just to study for a while using the sound of balls bouncing on the floor as a background.

It was during one of your study days that you first met Jake, when he accidentally threw a ball in your direction and although you safely dodged, he insisted on taking you to what he called a date, but you weren’t much interested in him like that so you two became friends.

Jake was definitely hot, but, well… You had a big crush on the very much attractive ace of the team.

His movements looked meticulously calculated as if he had control of every part of his body, his pretty smiley face whenever he scored a point making your heart miss a few beats, not to mention the shameless winks he gave towards the girls who were watching the match just to make them scream. His overall performance was just sensational, making you wonder if the hands that were harshly used to grip the ball would grip your hips the same way.

Yeah, one of the in real life crushes you would get wet just by thinking about.

You forced yourself to believe that you had everything under control, since crushing on Heeseung was a waste of time and a sentence to have your heart shattered. You knew about his fuckboy reputation and definitely wasn’t planning on being the talk of the week of the “lucky girl that Heeseung fucked” or anything similar, neither wanted to face the consequences of getting involved with him – the amount of gossips going around with your name would increase considerably as people would try their best to destroy your self-esteem.

Or at least that’s what you heard from your friends, wondering for a long time if people were exaggerating just because of jealousy.

You weren’t that desperate to lose your virginity, although the thought of losing it to Heeseung seemed quite interesting – but, again, impossible.

Heeseung's existence in your life always resembled to be like an idol. Not in a sense of you idolizing him, but as someone you were intrigued by, loving to watch him by far, never getting close enough given that nothing could even happen between you two, especially because how would two different worlds collide like that?

So in your own defense of how your body was reacting, no one prepared you to be so close to him without a previous warning, even with the fact that Jake was friends with Heeseung. Your brain just insisted on forgetting that eventual possibility.

“What are you guys talking about?”

And then you really panicked.

You also forgot that Jake was pretty much a gossiper and would rather know what the table was talking about instead of bringing another new subject to it. And now there was Heeseung sitting with all of you, making it harder to breathe and to focus on any other thing. You could feel the sweat dampening your armpits, the idea of you having to talk about your sexual life haunting you to death at that moment.

“Me getting laid,” Julie answered with a cheeky smile.

“Oh,” Jake was taken back with her quick and honest response, you could notice by the way he slightly widened his eyes. Heeseung just laughed. And what a pretty fucking laugh.

“Don’t act like you never fucked in your life, Jake,” Yunjin said narrowing her eyes skeptically, adding to the fuel.

You felt your cheeks and the top of your ears burning. And not only that, there was a very intense gaze right towards you that you refused to look up to meet. The scrunched napkins on the table looked way more interesting than anything else at that moment.

“I’m still not used to all your… Openness,” he motioned with his hands as he explained. You mentally cursed Jake’s oblivious self for giving Julie the right words for her to be even more blatant in her dramatic speech.

“Oh boy, I really wish I’d be open–”

“Julie!” Yunjin now screamed flabbergasted with Julie’s audacity, laughing loudly and smacking her friend's shoulder while you hid yourself in your hands, fully embarrassed. You couldn’t hold back a small, kind of a relieved laugh because the topic apparently was about to end.

You heard Heeseung chuckling with them and decided to search for his eyes just to meet them already on you, shamelessly checking you out. You instantly avoided his not a little soft glances at your chest and lips, but not with enough time to fail to perceive how he bit his bottom lip while still smiling.

“Care to present your friend?” Yunjin directed the question to Jake when she stopped laughing.

“I thought you already knew Heeseung,” Jake sounded confused.

“We do, but I don’t know if Y/N do,” she explained, pointing to you.

Now every pair of eyes on the table was on you and normally that wasn’t a big deal, you loved the attention your friends gave whenever you were the one speaking. But Heeseung being the owner of one of those pairs made it difficult for you not to blush harder.

“O–oh,” you damned yourself for stuttering, swallowing nothing. “I actually know him too, yeah. I– I watch the uni basketball practices sometimes.” You tried to sound cool, forcing a very awkward smile, but your voice was so obviously nervous you just wished no one would notice.

However, Heeseung’s lips curved into a smirk told you that he, at least, noticed. And was enjoying seeing you so flustered.

“I’ve seen you there a few times”, it was his first words since he sat with your group, his voice sounding quite different from when you normally heard him – screaming in the basketball court with his teammates to hype them up.

Your heartbeat was loud inside your chest, and you wondered if the reason behind was because of Heeseung’s intense presence, or how dreamy his voice sounded, or the fact that he had perceived you in his games. All the options sounding very unnecessarily smitten to you, who usually knew your place, grounded with your feelings, but apparently not with Heeseung and his charming face.

Jake nodded, smiling cutely at you. But not a cutely you enjoyed seeing; it was a mischievous grin. You gulped.

“Heeseung insisted on sitting with us today, saying he wants to get to know you better,” Jake nudged your shoulder with his’, wiggling his eyebrows while the girls hummed teasingly at you.

You widened your eyes, your cheeks with a tone of red spreading all over. You noticed Heeseung’s cherry colored lips still with a petty grin, his eyes slightly hooded as he faced you. That alone was enough to get yourself worked up, sending signals directly to your cunt.

You literally clenched around nothing just because Heeseung smirked at you while holding eye contact.

Of course you would react like a teen that just got a confession from her crush mixed with a pervert that never had sex in her life and got horny by little things – which, in part, was true.

Nevertheless, hearing Heeseung laugh along with Jake’s next words completely dashed your hopes and your arousal away.

“I’m joking. It’s funny and cute how you always react with things like this.”

You now had to blink a few times to recompose yourself just enough to fake a smile, trying not to demonstrate that your panties were a bit damp and you, frustrated.

“Not funny to play with a girl's feelings, Jake,” Julie uttered when she noticed your slight discomfort.

Now it was the time to take your realistic persona and act out of the situation, as you pulled your best facial expression in order to cover your kind of hurted heart. “There are no feelings,” you urged to say with a forced laugh, failing to notice Heeseung’s smile dropping for a second. “Yeah, it’s funny now, but I’m pretty sure you were on the verge of crying when I refused to go with you on that date,” you cocked your head with a raised eyebrow facing Jake, watching his expression contort in all the five stages of grief at once, his lips parted with widen eyes at the end.

“You’re mean,” he whined and you laughed.

“Only for you,” and you gave him a little wink before standing up and gathering all your things on the table to put back on your backpack. “I gotta go now, see ya later?” You looked at your girl friends who just nodded and said a cute goodbye to you, avoiding eye contact with Heeseung as you did so.

As you made your way to your upcoming class, your mind automatically flooded with thoughts about what just happened; you yourself questioning for how long you would be able to hide your inexistent sexual life from your friends, or even if you should keep doing it, due the fact that they could help you get over your insecurities and apprehensions.

Besides, it was becoming quite unbearable to cope with the frustration of wanting, yearning, and desiring, yet never being able to make a move beyond it.

And since when would Heeseung pay genuine attention to you? You couldn’t deny that even with your head making sure to remind you of the unrealistic nature of things happening with Heeseung, your feelings seemed to have been crushed in a very hurtful way.

There was a part of you that believed a bit in the fantasy of him being a very warm and approachable guy who would do cute things with you, respect your space and time and also be the one who you have sex with.

On the other hand, you constantly reinforced the thought of being impossible and somehow weird. You felt weird. Like a true pervert of some kind.

You spent the whole class thinking about what Jake said and how Heeseung's eyes wandered your features with something very similar to what you saw in some other guys. Desire.

But at that point you comprehended that your mind had started to like to make things up. Jake was lying after all.

You just wished for your sentiments and needs to vanish quickly, or at least for you to be able to replace the person. In any case, you decided to avoid the basketball court for a few days.

Not showing up to watch the team’s practice and games did not prevent you from running into Heeseung almost everyday, which was the main reason behind your decision – to get over your silly little crush on him.

Apparently fate had other plans for you and you honestly didn’t know how to feel. Heeseung began to be part of your group hangouts alongside Jake, now being a regular presence to the point where your friends would frequently ask his whereabouts, as if everyone in the group suddenly grew a liking for him.

And honestly, you couldn’t blame them. Apart from your tangled, weird feelings that for sure had something to do with how you envisioned him, Heeseung revealed to be a genuine sweet, caring person, easily breaking parts of your pre-concept about his stereotypes.

His “player” aura was fading little by little, even though his confident demeanor kept its place on his every move.

Heeseung had gleaming eyes shooting you the most flirtatious, intense gaze, with equal glistened lips adorning the most endearing smirk, enough to make you lose your words, to lose your mind. Not to mention how often his body leaned towards yours in order to give you full attention.

Heeseung would cock his head and glance at your lips whenever you were the one speaking, simple behaviors messing you over and over, tempting you to dive into the pool of the unexplored, the so lustful field you never let yourself do a proper investigation, too afraid of surrendering to your feelings and needs.

The more you got to know him, the harder it became to dismiss the growing admiration and longing feeling running all over your body. Heeseung wasn’t just some fleeting crush anymore. He became something you couldn’t name yet, still fuzzing your mind, the crawling sensation on your skin wanting more and more of whatever he had to offer – just a look, just a smile, just some words, just some gentle brush of skins. Anything.

At some point your chest started to palpitate just by the mention of his name, your blood running cold instantly as your whole posture changed, terrified of someone knowing about your feelings, about your dirtiest thoughts, about how he would visit your dreams at night to show you how much you craved his body.

God, you were so fucked up, so desperate, and nonetheless, hesitant.

Something strongly held you back, even with Heeseung’s attempts to become closer to you, asking direct questions to you, trying nonstop to get to know you better, just like Jake once told you he wanted to.

You never let him in. Not openly, not with your words, not in front of him – you refused to risk having a broken heart because Heeseung was simply being his normal self and you, seeing beyond his charming facade.

Heeseung had occupied a spot in your mind from day one, ever since his damp, sweaty hair stuck on his forehead together with a cocky smile seemed way too attractive to your eyes and you began to pay more attention to his existence. That was true. But you only allowed him to do his proper mess inside your head after de-idolizing him; after the looks he gave to every other girl started to have you as the main target, after his hands “accidentally” brushed on yours during your moments sitting side by side sending shivers throughout your body, after he questioned about how you day have been and actually paid attention to your answer, your stomach doing flips every time.

Heeseung was now part of your thoughts because he showed genuine affection and worry about you, without you asking for it. And alongside all of that, he was so fucking and unnecessarily hot.

But what if all of this was just a game? Just another girl he messes around with, playing with her feelings just because he can. Just because he's attractive and you're foolishly falling for him…?

…Falling for him?

“Stop overthinking,” Sunoo’s voice cut your roam of thoughts as he appeared out of nowhere, dropping his books on the table before sitting across you in the library, catching you totally off guard.

“Damn it, Sunoo!” You nearly screamed, covering your mouth to restrain it, ignoring the librarian's angry glare.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he chuckled softly. “But your frown is screaming at me, what’s on your mind?”

“Ahm, just some media ethics stuff, y’know–”

“Cut that off, sweetie. I’m not asking about your studies. You know that. I’m asking about your frown, your overthinking frown,” he said, gently pressing his finger on your forehead. “What’s really going on in there?”

You sighed.

The two of you had met in your first year when you realized you shared almost all your classes. Since then, Sunoo had become one of your closest friends – the trustworthy one, the always-down-for-anything one, and also the one who worried about you the most. He was a comforting presence, someone you could rely on to listen to your concerns and anxieties without judgment.

Still, despite this, you felt nervous. Your eyes darted around searching for any eavesdroppers, a few students scattered throughout the library, deeply focused on their studies, oblivious to your conversation. Yet your tense nerves inhibited you from sharing your true worries as you opened and closed your mouth a few times without being able to talk.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Sunoo asked softly, eyes offering you comfort as he held your hands and caressed them.

You nodded, watching his body instantly lifting up from his seat to help you grab your things and his own, snatching your hand with his to drag you around the campus until you found a quiet place near some trees.

“Go ahead, sweetie,” Sunoo said as he leaned in one of the trees, watching your gaze avoiding his and your cheeks reddening a bit.

“I’m having some troubles, personal problems, if I’m being honest…” Sunoo said nothing, just nodded his head in a reassuring way although you weren’t looking at him. “It’s–” you gulped. Your mind screaming at you to shut up, because you were certain he would make fun of you. Sunoo, the guy who always had people crushing on, definitely would not understand what you are going through. You searched for his eyes, just to find them filled with compassion. “I’m–” You shut your eyes searching for the best way of saying. “I’m a virgin,” you blurted out in a low tone, your face burning with embarrassment as you refused to open your eyes.

However, Sunoo's nonchalant reaction took you by surprise. “Okay, and?” Then you blinked a few times, trying to comprehend the lack of judgment. This was not what you prepared yourself for. “What’s the problem?” He sounded genuinely confused with your dumbfounded expression. “That’s all? I mean, if it’s really bothering you we can talk through it, but I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, sweetie…”

“So… You think that’s normal for a college girl to be a virgin? You don’t think it’s something to be weird or to be asham–”

“My dear Y/N,” he cut you off by holding your head softly to look directly into his eyes. “First of all there’s no such thing as what's normal or not normal when it comes to many things. Also, please never let someone make you feel ashamed of who you are or how you’ve chosen to live your life, ok?” Your honest reaction was to stare at Sunoo in astonishment. “Promise me, Y/N.”

“I promise,” your voice was muffled since he was holding you still.

“Now spill the real tea, because I’m pretty sure this is just the tip of the iceberg.”

So you vented out about everything running through your mind, your worries, your genuine curiosity mixed with a fear, how you were aching for something you were too afraid of getting – or letting yourself to get.

Relief ran throughout your body, as Sunoo made you comfortable enough to go subject by subject in order to help you name all of your nameless and confused feelings, including to situate where your expectations were set. You wanted your first time to be enjoyable, that’s for sure, so you had to be with someone who would help you erase your turbulent thoughts by reassuring you regularly – a one night stand type of thing was not an option, you realized with Sunoo.

You shared your apprehension on disappointing with your lack of experience, and to that Sunoo settled your nerves by saying “If the person respects you, you don’t have to worry about that,” and you discovered another name for what you wanted.

The anguish of not knowing what to do or where to go was slowly diminishing every time you labeled what previously you were able to describe only as a ‘bittersweet feeling of panic and desire’.

You also didn’t need to directly mention Heeseung, Sunoo himself brought his name after connecting the obvious dots of the said crush being Heeseung, especially since his glances at you and your reactions to it were anything but subtle.

“Don’t have to worry about that either, sweetie. I don’t think any of the others noticed it, they’re too oblivious sometimes,” Sunoo calmed you down after you almost cried due to your embarrassment of someone noticing your messed up self.

Something Sunoo said reverberated throughout your day as well. “You will always be a virgin if you don’t have sex. And if you’re afraid of having sex because you’re a virgin, it’s an unsolved paradox.”

Your talk with Sunoo eased your mind, but also introduced a whole new scenery of thoughts – gladly not anxious one. You were depriving yourself of your own pleasure, of your own desire. And perhaps the real reason was because you feared… liking it.

So after a good night of sleep, you decided to head out to your favorite place during your free time: the basketball court. Not necessarily to watch anything – or someone in particular, but to ponder what you had going through your head the whole night ever since Sunoo’s advices and sweet, reassuring words.

Of course your choice of place would lead you to probably bump into a specific someone, and part of you really hoped for that.

While you drank your iced coffee, you wondered if Sunoo was being serious when he said that the talk about Heeseung in most cases was disconnected with reality. He didn’t explain much about it, but what he said was enough to intrigue you.

“Hey,” a far, but known voice snapped you out of your trance, and instantly your whole body heated.

You watched Heeseung jogging in your direction, panting a big, sweat dripping off his temples and his arms in display for you since he was wearing a sleeveless shirt.

“It’s been a while since I last saw you here,” he said, shooting you a small smile, easily walking through the seats by skipping them with his long legs until he got closer.

“Yeah, I’ve been a bit busy,” you answered, fighting yourself not to tremble and to avoid glazing your eyes on his body, the team’s uniform looking gorgeous in contrast with his skin tone.

“Missed you, Y/N,” Heeseung talked with a gentle voice, his usual sparkly eyes growing wide as he realized what he just said. “I mean, I missed you being around, y’know,” he tried to play it cool and due to your nervous self, you barely noticed he was going through the same emotion.

He was so attractive, and for some reason the mix of his perfume with his sweat inebriated your air lines, making it a little difficult to breathe.

Little did you know that Heeseung was in a similar state, lost in how cute you looked that day, your comfy outfit and the single ponytail doing your face features justice by letting them shine with a natural beauty you carried confidently.

Heeseung noticed you on the very first day you appeared to watch a game. He normally paid little to no real attention to who watched his practice, the flirty glances and winks thrown at the crowd usually was just for fun and no one in particular, but your sudden appearance was overwhelming, his stomach did flips and his so focused self was faltering before your presence.

He had to take a good, long, cold shower after in the locker room to try to get over his exaggerated reactions. How does one get his heart pounding so fast, hands sweating and distracted concentration just because they are good looking?

He for sure knew plenty of attractive people, but none got his heart aching and his body craving like you did.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m the team’s lucky charm,” you acted out of your bubble a bit. That would be a normal saying by you, actually. But around Heeseung you worked differently, actions more withdrawn than ever, flustered by the fact that his focus was on you, and only you.

You barely had any moments alone with Heeseung, most of the time some friend of yours was engaged in the conversation as well, so to talk directly to him without having another person to cover up your nervous state was pretty difficult, especially by the way he held eye contact on you, as he was reading every bare piece of you.

“Yeah, I really don’t know what to do without you,” Heeseung put his hand on his heart dramatically as he said and you blushed, pushing his shoulder and avoiding looking at his face.

And well, he wasn’t lying.

Your constant attendance, whether to really pay attention to what was happening or just to quietly study as you regularly did, threw his mind into chaos. Heeseung had to physically restrain himself from jumping across the seats to ask for your number at first, your aura seeming a bit coy to him – not in an off putting way, but in a way that made him think you deserved someone better than what he could offer. Alongside that, he believed there was no way a hot, beautiful and smart girl like you would pay any attention to him.

It wasn't like Heeseung was insecure, he knew his strengths and how to work with them. A line of girls would eagerly wait for a chance to spend a night with him, though he never went that far with many of them, choosing carefully who he led to his room or allowed in his life.

Nevertheless, the feeling of having that kind of attention was addicting. To feel desired by them fed his ego, he never denied that.

That alone convinced Heeseung that you, out of all his options, would never let him taste a crumb of what he really wanted from you.

And then there was the moment he got to know about Jake being friends with you.

His instincts told him to give up, but he had to try, a demeanor similar to a man who never saw a woman in his life before, just to get a little bit of whatever you would give to him.

Heeseung grew obsessed with your presence, with you. Yet never bold enough to do much about it, too afraid of your so certain rejection. Then you suddenly disappeared and he missed you like crazy, to the point of befriending your friends simply to have a bit of your presence in his daily life.

To get you know better did no good to his health at all. He got enthralled by your sarcastic, funny personality, your endearing laughs and genuine love for your friends, spilling through your actions and words, always supporting them without losing your humor.

Heeseung got a small taste of how it feels to have you around and he grew addicted – even more than for the feeling of being desired by many, more thrilling than the praise for his performance or the rush of winning a game. At the end of the day, Heeseung wanted your attention and your praises.

After realizing it, he decided to step up on his game.

“So…” Heeseung cleared his throat after your silence. “Are you free later?”

The question itself had nothing openly implied, just a normal, simple and direct ask. But God, why did your heart started to beat so fast? Why did your face felt like fire burning all over it?

You forced yourself to meet Heeseung's gaze, his eyes filled with anticipation and eagerness, just like your reply could change the whole path of his life.

“Ahm, yeah, kinda. Why?”

You watched as his expression lighted up and how he tried to hold back his smile while scratching the back of his neck. Spotting Heeseung apparenting to be nervous ignited a different, sudden feeling inside you, as if you now understood that you affected him in some way. Or that he was a very good actor.

“I was wondering if you would like to come over to my place– We’re going to throw a small party, so it’d be cool to have you there,” he nodded to himself, proud for not stuttering at all. When did inviting a girl to a party become that hard?

Unfortunately for him, you paid close attention to his behavior and body language, how he avoided looking at your eyes even though he was the king of maintaining eye contact while speaking and how his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as if he swallowed hard. All the pieces together put you in a new position, one that you felt confident enough to play on his game.

“A party, huh?” You showed him a smile before biting your bottom lip and tilting your head to the side, as if you were thinking about his invitation, Heeseung’s eyes catching every movement and your eyes catching his not a bit subtle glances. “I’ll try to fit you in my schedule.”

And you gave him a wink as you stood up to go back to your dorm without waiting for a response, knowing that your sudden courage would not last long to keep it going, not even realizing you left Heeseung in a total speechless form.

Attending a party alone was not something common to your lifestyle at all, same as accepting going on one just because of an acquaintance of yours.

Usually your friends – Yunjin or Sunoo, in particular – would be the ones to tag you along, since you liked to go out but never got that extroverted side to be directly invited; you didn’t even bother to care much, because as said before, your friends were the ones in charge to lead you to the places.

In addition to that, not only would you have a company so you would not feel alone, but also a friend nearby to look after you – though your alcohol tolerance was pretty high, you didn’t trust yourself to make sound decisions sober, let alone drunk.

Later on, Heeseung messaged you saying you could invite the girls and Sunoo, but to your misfortune and as if fate was tricking you, all of them had other plans and left you hanging this time. Yunjin encouraged you to go by yourself, since Jake would probably be there as well as Heeseung, so you gathered all the courage you had left and decided to go.

Nevertheless, Heeseung wasn’t necessarily your friend yet.

You both shared information about each other during the time he hung out with you and your friend group, enough for you to know his degree and some of his life interests like favorite movies, music and the fact he was a chronic gamer.

Whilst you didn’t trust him enough to have your back if needed to, there was something on the way he oftenly treated you that broke down your doubtful barriers with ease, not only by his respectful manners but also by his desirable glances. Heeseung would look at you with a perfect mix of endearment and craving, like he wanted you so bad he would do anything, but never crossing the line, waiting for you to make the first move.

It was reassuring in some type of way, to feel wanted and at the same time, respected. Upon this conclusion, you felt confident enough to cross the opened door and to enter the house, hearing the loud music boosting through the speakers as a bunch of people danced to it, some of them seeming way too drunk already.

The fluttering sensation in your stomach showed you not only the fear of being by yourself, but mostly the obvious, expected acknowledgment you would eventually bump into Heeseung.

Before you could walk your way to the kitchen to get something to drink – a shot of courage, maybe, someone gave you a sudden bear hug and by the drunken voice you noticed it was Jake.

“You came!”

“Yeah!” You answered with the same pitch, hugging him back, relieved that your whole internal dilemma ended quickly. Or you thought so. “You look kinda drunk,” you stated the obvious with a sarcastic tone, sly smile at him when he pulled out of the hug.

Jake literally giggled as a response and wrapped his free arm around your shoulder, dragging you around, his other hand occupied holding his cup.

“Let me introduce you to my friends, you introduced me to yours so it’s only fair if I do the same, right?” You laughed at his very slurred words, as well as how cute he sounded having his cheeks flustered due to the alcohol.

However, when you realized that he was leading you to his friends – and Heeseung was his friend – you almost froze, stumbling a little on your legs while your whole body tensed. You damned Jake for not letting you take your shot of courage before.

“No need to be nervous,” Jake murmured close to your ear, his hands resting now on your waist as he continued to walk with you. The distance wasn’t that far, but Jake kept stopping to greet everyone along the way so it took you both double the time.

“I’m not–”

“You’re doing the face you do when you’re nervous,” he pointed out.

“Am I that easy to read?” You let out an awkward chuckle, feeling shy at how transparent your reactions were.

“Yeah,” he replied, causing you to now genuinely laugh at his sincerity. “You’ll like them. They already like you. Heeseung doesn’t shut up about you, so they're already familiar with who you are.”

What?

You had no time to think about his words or even react properly, a bunch of new friendly smiles greeting you.

“This is Sunghoon and Jay,” Jake indicated with his fingers to the ones sitting on the couch in the corner of the room. “The two over there are Riki and Jungwon,” Jake pointed with the hand that held his cup to the two who were standing and talking with each other, but when their names were mentioned they looked at you with curiosity. “And Heeseung you already know, but I don’t know where he is.”

Part of you felt relieved by Heeseung's absence, while another part was somewhat disappointed.

“Hey, you must be Y/N,” the one you understood as being Jay stood up to greet you with a hug, followed by Sunghoon.

“Enjoying the party so far?” The taller one asked, looking you directly into your eyes. You showed him a gentle smile as you answered.

“I kinda just arrived, so…” Sunghoon nodded, mouthing an ‘oh’ and sitting again on the couch although his gaze kept focused on you. You shook your head when he silently asked if you wanted to sit as well. “But I can say the music is pretty nice. Whoever chose the playlist has a good taste.”

“Thanks.”

You weren’t expecting to feel Heeseung’s presence close, right behind you. His sweet yet low voice making you shiver, a weird feeling tingling your skin.

“I chose the playlist.”

You gulped down your flustered self to turn around and address your attention to him, just to meet his signature flirty expression, this time a little more… softened. He shamelessly checked you out, eyes sparkling in interest as he tried to hold back his smile, disguising it with a small smirk.

His outfit took your breath away, as he wore a black dress shirt that had the first two buttons open and a beautiful silver chain necklace contrasting his slightly tanned skin, every move of his tempting you to see what was underneath the clothing piece.

You saw how Heeseung’s Adam's apple moved up and down before he raised an eyebrow playfully when his eyes landed on your face again.

He paid attention to the way your cheeks turned into a soft shade of red that he was sure wasn't just because of your makeup blush, and damn, how could you look so hot with black skirt and an oversized black shirt? Your legs in full display to him to savor.

“You look pretty,” he complimented you, sincerity and a taste of desire evident in his tone. You smiled shyly, feeling a warm blush rise to your cheeks.

“Oh, thank you. You look great yourself,” you replied, and although you felt flustered for being that close to Heeseung, you didn’t hesitate to maintain eye contact, focusing the most you could not to falter.

Heeseung chuckled, his hands dipped in his pockets as he straightened his posture, quickly averting from your gaze before coming back to look at you again.

So gorgeous, his heart was beating unnecessarily fast just by seeing you and even faster because of your compliment.

“I’m glad to hear that, y’know, I was hoping to make a good impression,” the alcohol in his system made him a bit bolder than he normally was around you, his body leaning subtly closer to yours, his eyes taking the typical glances at your lips.

You huffed a flustered laugh, looking at him through your eyelashes. “You– You don’t have to try that hard, though,” you tried to speak confidently, and you actually did it, biting your lips as a way of restraining yourself from literally jumping on that hot, attractive, charming, man.

The little giggling noises behind your back made you aware that you were not alone with Heeseung to be that fearless, so you took a step back, suddenly feeling hesitant.

“You think so?” Heeseung, on the other hand, didn’t care about his friends, maintaining his flirty aura as he stepped closer to you, a playful grin adorning the corner of his glistening lips. However, he quickly caught the slight discomfort in your posture and decided to give you some space, backing off. “Well, next time I’ll just let my natural charm do the work, then,” he winked at you and casually sat on the couch arm beside Jay and Sunghoon.

You felt a bit out of your place, your wobbly legs not letting you do much and you awkwardly self not knowing exactly what to do. Jake was long gone already, lost in the sea of people while the other boys chatted between themselves. You stood near to the wall next to the other couch arm, engaging in the conversation as they asked you a few things in order to make you feel included. Eventually, Jungwon and Riki joined as well, bringing you a drink, and you got to know all of them better.

Throughout the entire time, Heeseung wasn’t subtle with his glances, eyeing you up and down, taking his sweet time appreciating your bare thighs and your lips whenever you spoke. And even when you caught him staring, he didn’t flinch, full of confidence, biting his lower lip just to wet it with his tongue right after, definitely not paying attention to their friends talking.

So excessively hot.

Heeseung was torn between awe and frustration. Having you so close, yet so out of reach was killing him inside – he wished for you to take the obvious hints he was giving of being so down to kiss you, his body aching in despair.

And he grew even more desperate and frustrated when Jungwon boldly asked you, “Do you wanna go dance with me?”

Heeseung watched the subtle surprise in your expression as your eyes flicked to him briefly, missing the silent plea for him to repeat what Jungwon had just said.

Still, you hesitated for another reason. Normally one of your friends would push you out of your shell to do what you wanted to, but were afraid of. But not only Jungwon's cute smile got into your heart, you also thought to yourself it was time to make your own decisions, even the simple ones like accepting or not a dance.

“Sure,” you agreed, grabbing the hand he offered you, following him to the makeshift dance floor.

Heeseung’s eyes couldn’t drift away from how your body moved with Jungwon’s precise lead, your hips synchronized with the rhythm, your happy smile lip syncing the song together with Jungwon. He watched his friend get closer to you to whisper something in your ear, making you laugh brightly, wishing to be the one to make you feel that way, to touch, to have you like that.

Heeseung was growing jealous of Jungwon’s demeanor around you, having his hands confidently resting on your waist, guiding you through the music with ease, whispering things he wished so badly to know what it was.

He knew he was shameless staring, Sunghoon mocking his reactions as he scoffed and rolled his eyes, annoyed by the sight of another man touching you.

“Why are Jungwon’s hands roaming all over her body like that?” He asked without taking you out of his sight.

“They’re just dancing, relax.” Sunghoon smiled playfully.

“Jungwon is just being nice to her,” Riki pointed out. “They share a few things in common and they both like to dance, so it was just a convenient situation, y’know? Nothing to worry about.” Riki tapped his friend’s shoulder.

“We all know the girl’s yours,” Jay said.

“She’s not mine.”

Yet, Heeseung completed it on his mind, but his friends knew all too well about that too.

On your side of the story, despite the warmth of Jungwon’s company, you couldn’t ignore the weight of Heeseung’s gaze, taking a glimpse once and a while of his so unreadable expression. You couldn’t figure out if it was anger or envy or desire or frustration, Heeseung showed you a mix of everything and, God, you wanted so badly for him to do something.

“Heeseung is looking at me like he’s going to kill me,” Jungwon whispered in your ear, and you laughed nervously.

“I hope he doesn't, you’re too nice and young to die.”

Jungwon chuckled at your response, and then noticed how your body tensed up suddenly. He followed your eyes and you both watched Heeseung’s tall figure standing up and walking towards you two.

“Mind if I cut in?” Heeseung’s voice was smooth, just like him. Your heart started to race too fast when Jungwon handed you to Heeseung.

“She’s all yours,” Jungwon winked, saying a quick goodbye to you and heading back to his friends.

Even with now being just the two of you, Heeseung didn’t touch you without your permission, partly because he was scared of not being able to control himself at all. He blinked a few times waiting for you to take the lead and his breath hitched when your hands went directly to rest on his shoulders.

You gave him a reassuring look, allowing him to touch you, and nearly melted when his fingers found their place on your waist, caressing the place gently as he slowly moved you both to the music. Every so often, your eyes would meet and each time you couldn’t help but blush and smile shyly before quickly looking away, Heeseung thinking how precious you seemed acting like that.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you started saying after the silence of your voices. “I’d love to dance with you a bit more, but I have to be honest, my social battery is pretty drained already,” your lips curved into a small, apologetic pout.

“Do you wanna go home?” He asked softly, bold hands now moving a bit more freely on your body. You shook your head, since going home equaled being away from his embrace. “Do you wanna get out of here?” You nodded cutely and he smiled, endeared by your behavior. “Come with me,” he said and kindly held your hand to lead you away from the party, not before stepping briefly in the kitchen to grab you both a drink.

Heeseung took you to the back of the house, being one of the owner’s he knew all the places where people could and couldn’t be, so a big part of you felt relieved for not having to deal with a crowd overwhelming your senses.

“You look quite tired,” he uttered with a hint of concern, as you both walked slowly through the backyard, way less people scattered through it as you just followed him without thinking much about it, focusing on your drink.

“Yep, I think I overworked my social battery today,” you answered with a chuckle. “But it was pretty fun, though. Your friends are really cool.”

“They are.”

You both stopped walking at some point, Heeseung nodded his head towards the low wall that surrounded the house for you both to sit on it, a very peaceful, quiet place to run away from the party chaos.

“What about you?” You asked curiously, tilting your head to catch his profile before he turned to face you.

“Hm?”

“You don’t seem to be the type to just sit back and watch the party,” you stated, swinging your legs as you finished your drink.

“Yeah? What do you think I should be doing then?” Heeseung raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your perception about him.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, averting your eyes to anything but him when you said. “Banging with someone?”

“What!?” Heeseung exasperated, as if he was really offended. You laughed out loud with his extremely exaggerated reaction. “Is that what you think of me, Y/N?”

“Well, y’know, it’s kind of hard to think otherwise. Your reputation doesn't help much,” you explained and forced your best innocent look when your eyes rested on him again. You tried so hard not to laugh at his very deeply offended expression.

“I’m so sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t think I’m the person you think I am,” he huffed a laugh, biting his lips right after to glaze his eyes on you. “Don’t even know when was the last time I– Sorry,” he quickly interrupted himself with an embarrassed smile. “I might’ve overshared a bit.”

You shook your head, smiling away your fluster. “You’re fine. But it's still hard to believe.”

“You should ask my friends, then!” He was really trying to defend himself in this one. “Ask Jake!”

“And he’ll tell me what? That you have a long list of women you hooked up with?” You teasingly wigged your eyebrows, nudging him playfully.

“God, no,” he whined and you laughed at his adorable frustration.

You didn’t know it was this fun to tease Heeseung.

“How do I put this… Mhm,” he looked away, suddenly flustered. You were slightly surprised by his demeanor. It was the first time you witnessed Heeseung being something similar to shy. “I like to kiss,” your eyes grew wide and now was your time to be nervous. “So when I go to parties, I might be found kissing someone if I’m really in the mood, but just because I like to kiss, y’know?” He continued, shrugging, trying his best not to sound crazy to you. “And what I’ve noticed is that the people that I kiss, turn a simple makeout into something more when they talk about it, which almost never really happens if I’m being honest,” he paused. “I can count on my fingers how many women I’ve actually taken to my room.”

You swallowed hard, almost audibly gulped, a mix of sensations running throughout your body with his confessions.

“And I also enjoy the flirting, y’know. Their reactions flatters my ego,” this time he was so obviously teasing you after he noticed your embarrassment, finding it adorable how your cheeks got painted red.

You rolled your eyes, pushing his shoulders in annoyance as he laughed. “I’m not joking, though,” he added. “But once I’m committed, I give up on all of that because I can only think about the person I’m liking.”

All that new information sent your brain into overdrive, unnecessarily attractive the way Heeseung’s voice got low at the end, as if he was telling you a secret, a lustful secret, shivers running all over your spine and you having no idea of what to do. You tried hard not to read between the lines. If you did, you would pick up on the message wrongly, because there was no way he was genuinely hitting on you.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” Heeseung hurried to say, his eyes softening on you.

“No,” you shook your head, chuckling. “I’m just… surprised. Didn’t expect you to be this open,” you admitted, your nervousness waving away from your body, feeling a bit more at ease around him. He still carried his cocky, flirty, charming aura, but now with a taste of honesty you appreciated.

“I just wanted you to know me, instead of what people say about me,” Heeseung confessed with a tender smile. You nodded, glad for his sincerity.

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the muffled noise of the party still going serving as a background. Heeseung was so terribly desperate to touch you again, his hands hesitantly hovering yours, yet never really touching it, as you obliviously looked at the scenery surrounding you, the trees throbbing by the quiet breeze relaxing your senses while you took a few deep breaths.

“Do you wanna go back inside or…?” Heeseung sweet voice eagerly broke the silence, attracting your attention. He was hungry for you, even without tasting you before. His eyes were dripping honey as he watched you consider your options for a bit, pursed lips with a slightly frown.

The peaceful atmosphere embraced you, not only by the cool weather but also Heeseung’s calm, sweet, yet strong presence. You looked through your eyelashes at the adorable bambi eyes that waited anxiously for your answer, blinking slowly. Something has shifted in the air between you two, and surprisingly your body was relaxed with the possible outcome, your heartbeats strong in your chest.

“I’m fine here, actually. What about you? Do you wanna go back?” Your voice sounded way softer than you expected, and just then you realized how close Heeseung’s face was to yours, his alcohol breath mingling with yours mixed with the scent of his cologne, sending you into a trance.

Your eyes naturally wandered through his beautiful facial features, his cute nose, his sparkly eyes, the little mole on his forehead, and of course, the oh, so kissable lips, tempting you so badly. You never had Heeseung that close to you, and he was so fucking breathtaking.

“No,” Heeseung replied under the same tone as yours. You observed how he hesitantly raised his hand near your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, chills running through your body with the light touch.

Heeseung took your reaction of not backing off as a green sign, so he jumped off of his seat to place himself between your legs, your sweet perfume intoxicating him as he looked up at you. Instead of going for a kiss as you expected him to do, he gulped and just hugged you by the waist, his face resting on your chest as you heard him taking a deep, long breath.

Your confused self tried to go with the flow, awkwardly caressing his dark hair, hugging him back. You didn’t understand what he was aiming for, and neither did he, to be honest. He suddenly felt so nervous he forgot how to act, and he realized your presence calmed him down so a hug looked just as right as a kiss.

However, you now were the one growing impatient. “Hee?” You called by his nickname, to which he answered with a muffled “Hm?”, loving the way it sounded in your voice.

“Do you want me to get down so we can kiss?” You audaciously asked, ignoring how hot your cheeks felt right after.

“Please,” he whispered as he parted away from you just to help you to get down, his hand rushing to grab you by the waist while the other cupped your cheek, every touch, every eye contact being so genuinely gentle.

Your fingers traced up from Heeseung’s chest until they reached his nape to scratch the area at the same time you pulled him closer, and closer. His stomach did a flip with how much he was needing you, so it took no time for him to close the distance between you two, lightly shocking his lips on yours.

The first touch was tender, hesitant, as if you both were testing it out. You moved to grab his bottom lip with yours, your breath hitching a little, shivers of anticipation going all over your skin when Heeseung tilted your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss.

Heeseung hummed against your mouth when he finally tasted you, his tongue brushing yours and sending him instantly to heaven; he immediately tangled his fingers on your hair to pull you near, eagerly wanting more and more of you, before sliding the same hand to your waist, pushing your body to lean it on the wall, pressing his own on your’s.

You two shared an intense desire for connection, once fed by days, weeks only by the tension of your imagination, of ‘how it could be’ or ‘happen’. Now that longing no longer occupied just your minds, becoming reality the more your bodies attracted each other with every touch, discovering new places, new pleasures, new cravings.

Heeseung didn’t know he would yearn you even more after getting a taste of you, and God, you were so addicting.

At some point you broke the kiss to catch your breath, Heeseung’s fingers exploring your body with a perfect blend of desire and respect, as if he was still waiting for the moment you would ask for a stop although he couldn’t resist to feel every piece of you. Fortunately for him, you were far from wanting him to halter his movements, his lips on yours making wonders on your system, your body feeling like melting for how amazing it felt to have him that intimately.

Heeseung’s eyes searched for yours, his now darkened gaze made your stomach flutter, your skin tingling from desire. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered on your lips, brushing them slightly. You simply shook your head, capturing his plump-kissed lips again, holding him even closer.

This kiss started urgently, even with Heeseung trying to keep it slow. Your pulse was fast, you needed him more than anything and your whole body was on fire. You could feel Heeseung going through the same, his skin smooth and warm under your hands as you boldly slipped one of them under his loosen shirt to access his back from his neck, mildly scratching the area just to receive a groan as a response.

“Fuck,” he pressed his body flush against yours even more if that was possible, his mouth travelling away from yours to spread hot kisses and small bites all over your jawline and neck.

Naturally your head was thrown back to give him more access to that area, now being your time to moan as an answer. When you paid close attention to every area of yours that was being touched by Heeseung, you noticed his hardened bulge pressing your body and let out a little gasp.

The recognition of you wanting him as much as he yearned you had awakened something inside of Heeseung, making his head lose control and focus on only one thing: you.

Heeseung was craving you like an animal.

And his way of showing that was slowing down his kisses, his hands audaciously squeezing your ass, sliding through your body with a mastery it took your breath away. Hesseung was a fucking good kisser, working his tongue on yours just the right enough to make your legs wobbly.

But then you became too aware of everything that was happening and your mind activated all the insecurity thoughts you once had for knowing that the makeout session would never just end there.

When Heeseung tried to kiss you again, you used your hands to lightly push him away and avoided his lips, both of you panting.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked you with confused, puppy eyes. Your heart shattered instantly.

“No, you’d never,” you kindly caressed his face. “I’m just– I…” You opened and closed your mouth, trying to find words that would not make you sound too off or that would make Heeseung slip away from you, but none seemed right.

“Y/N, it’s fine, yeah?” He caressed your hips and then your right cheek, pecking your lips sweetly with a gentle smile. His dick in his pants painfully reminded him of how much he was in need of your body, nonetheless he would never force you to do anything, and just the kisses you shared was enough to make his whole year worth. With that in mind, he kissed your left cheek before saying, “Let me take you home, how does that sound?”

You smiled, even with the urge of crying knocking on your door so closely, the bittersweet taste replacing Heeseung’s in your mouth as you gulped it down your throat, damning yourself for being such an overthinked, insecure person that was too afraid of going all the way for God’s knows why.

“Sounds great, Hee.”

As your usual response after any encounter involving men and the possibility of intimacy, you tried desperately to escape from meeting Heeseung. You would die to kiss him again, and again, and again… But at the same time, Heeseung wasn’t the type of guy who would stop at just kissing and you got a bit of the taste of that – your whole body was on fire just remembering his firm length pressing against your body, the little sounds he let out through the kiss, his hands pulling you closer and closer… And then you freaked out. As always.

Little did you know that Heeseung grew so obsessed with you and your intimate touch that night, that the mere thought of kissing you again consumed his mind just as much as you already captivated every corner of his head before.

The ghost of your lips lingered on his, haunted Heeseung’s memory, making him crave even more of whatever you would be willing to give to him, he would take anything at this point.

Heeseung noticed you vanished from your obvious encounters, not only by missing the basketball game’s practice, but weirdly not hanging out with your own friends. The possibility of you avoiding him made his heart pound in a mild, strange pain, as he didn’t know the reason behind and simply deduced he did something wrong, like crossed your boundaries or anything similar. He couldn’t live with himself if that was the case and in order to correct that, he needed to see you and properly apologize.

“Do you think I’ve fucked up?” Heeseung was now in Jay's room to vent out his concerns about you, pacing back and forth. Jay was still half-asleep, barely knowing his own name let alone able to deal with Heeseung’s situation.

Fortunately for Heeseung, one of the perks of having a long-time friend is that the said friend would be open to hear you whenever and for whatever reason.

“What do you mean?” Jay’s voice sounded groggy as he squinted his eyes to face the bright light coming through the window before searching for Heeseung in his room.

“She’s been ignoring me, like literally ignoring my texts and avoiding me,” Heeseung explained, fingers messing his hair nervously.

Jay let out a deep sigh with a yawn while he sat straight on his bed, running his hand on his hair to try to make it as presentable as possible. “Have you thought about the possibility that she’s, I don’t know, going through something?”

“And how do I fix this?” Heeseung looked at his friend with a hint of desperation.

“You have to let her deal with her stuff first, Hee.” Jay tried to sound as much as compassionate as he could, watching Heeseung taking the seat beside him on the bed. Jay patted his back. “I don’t think it’s up to you, at all.”

“I know, it’s just frustrating. I want her so bad, bro,” Heeseung rested his elbows on his legs and buried his face in his hands.

“Yeah, never seen you so down for a girl like that,” Jay huffed a little chuckle, amazed by his friend’s behavior.

“How can I not be? She’s so pretty, and we have such a good connection, and, God, her lips taste like honey. Like, her touches are so ligh–”

“Ok, enough,” Jay rushed to cut off Heeseung’s possible one hour speech about you, and now that you both shared an intimate moment, Jay was one hundred percent sure he didn’t need to hear such vivid details about it that early in the morning. “Let her do her thing, I’m sure she’ll eventually reach for you, bro.”

“I hope so.”

You weren’t too different from Heeseung though, feeling completely frustrated and in anguish.

You got your panties dampened in arousal just by having Heeseung touching and feeling you the way he did, and he would not leave your thoughts alone for no second during your days, making it difficult to go through your classes and to focus on your studies without your foots nervously tapping the floor, while biting and licking your lips due to your imagination flying by uncountable scenarios.

All of them with the same outcome: you panicking and leaving him hanging.

“Spill it out,” Sunoo surprised you by hugging you from behind while you waited in the line to order you a coffee.

“God Damn it, Sunoo!” You slapped his arm, hearing him laughing at you. “Why do you always do this?” Your question sounded like a whine. He poked your sides before letting you go from the hug.

“It’s funny how reactive you always are,” he teased with a smirk. “Order one for me, babe. I’ll pick us a table,” Sunoo said simply, as he started to move away from you.

“But–”

“No but’s!” He called out already far from you. ��I can see your frown from a mile away and I’ve known you long enough to know you’re doing what you like to do the most.”

Your flabbergasted expression was the only thing Sunoo saw before heading to a table on the corner of the store waiting for you to pick the both of you a coffee and head to share the seat with him.

“I kissed him.” You blurted out as soon as you sat, eyes expressing a mix of despair and excitement. Sunoo opened his mouth in a perfect ‘oh’ that silently asked you to explain it better. “So I went to that party,” Sunoo nodded for you to keep going. “And I was dancing with one of his friends, and then he stepped in and we danced together. You know I don’t usually socialize alone that much, so I was feeling drained already,” Sunoo eyes were sparkling in interest, he loved a good little love story. “Heeseung led me to the backyard, and we chatted for a bit, he made sure that I knew his reputation was all talk,” you chuckled, remembering how anxious he looked trying to explain himself. “And now that I know this, it makes total sense. I never really saw him doing anything too explicit in public, so…”

“Ok, babe. I got that part,” Sunoo rushed you. Normally he would listen to every single word you were saying in order to fully help you, but he was so invested in getting to the point he couldn’t help his impatience.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Well, we had a little moment y’know and then we kissed, very cute and all that jazz. Until the things… shifted a bit,” your cheeks blushed.

“Oh?” Sunoo's eyes grew wide just like his smile. “Did you..?”

“No! I didn’t,” you pouted. “That's the thing. I freaked out. As I always do. And now I’m even more desperate than before, because I got to taste what he can offer me and I want more, but I’m so, so, so afraid,” you whined, almost crying as the words came out of your mouth without you caring if it made sense or not.

Sunoo sighed, his orbs now filled with reassurance as he held both of your hands. “Did he force you to do anything?” You shook your head. “He stopped when you asked him to?” You nodded. “Then I don’t think you have to be scared of anything, Y/N,” you were about to interrupt him, but he kept on talking. “Listen, if Heeseung is into you the way it looks, he’ll respect your boundaries and wait for your consentment. And if he tries something funny, y’know I’ve got your back. I can punch really hard if I need to.”

You chuckled at his wording, knowing that was actually the truth. You were blessed to have someone like Sunoo in your life. “Thank you, Sunny,” you said sincerely. “I’m very grateful for having you.”

“No need to thank me, sweetie,” he kissed the back of your hand, before clapping his and saying excitedly. “Now let’s work on a plan of how you can relax and finally get that dick.”

“Sunoo!” You exclaimed, exasperated, and your friend's loud laugh was the only response you got.

“See you tomorrow, captain.”

You leaned your back against the wall near the door, watching a group of guys walk out of the locker room, some of them narrowing their eyes at you to which you pretended not to see, fakely paying attention to your phone, hoping none of them would stop to talk to you. You had one person in mind only.

“Oh? What are you doing here?”

And it was definitely not Jake.

“Oh, hey,” you smiled awkwardly, pushing your body away from the wall to face Jake. Your eyes darted over his shoulder, scanning if someone was coming after him just before you turned away from the door. “I’m wai–”

“Y/N?”

Your blood ran cold at the sound of your name being called by the voice you only heard in your dreams for the past few days. You tried to swallow down your tension and your shivers, barely registering Jake stepping away from you two to give the space you both needed.

Your body slowly turned to face Heeseung. His hair was wet, and he had a flustered, tired face from the game, a backpack hanging loose from his shoulder, and a small towel on his hands that he was using to dry off the water from his recent shower. His cherry-red lips were slightly parted, and his heavy breathing made your stomach and heart fluttered.

What a fucking vision, you almost whispered.

He had a blend of surprise, happiness and worry in his expression, which softened right after you showed him a small smile, your voice sounding as sweet as honey. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he mimicked your kind tone, his lips curving into a smile as well. He observed your adorable reddened cheeks and your big doe eyes staring at him, filled with expectation. “How are you?” He tried to sound casual, but his voice came out so obviously holding back his desperation.

His heart was racing fast, a genuine wave of joy and relief running through his body. You had no right to show up looking so damn cute and expect him to act normal, as if he wasn’t missing you like crazy.

“I’m good,” you replied softly.

Heeseung nodded, never breaking eye contact. You tried hard to figure out what was left unspoken through his intense, yet tender gaze; your skin aching, yearning for his warm touch just one more time, just like that night, just as a reminder of how good it felt, just so you could bring to reality everything that went through your thoughts since the last kiss.

You really wished Heeseung were feeling the same way, or at least something close to it, otherwise you weren’t sure if you could deal with rejection after you struggled to gather all your courage to encounter him.

The tension in the air was suffocating you a bit, the endless silence was killing you inside, nevertheless you couldn’t find the right words to start anything coherent. Gladly Heeseung perceived your body reacting to the strange atmosphere between you two, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable or to make things weird in your little relationship.

So he took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he bit his bottom lip.

“I’ve missed you,” he confessed without realizing he just did, voice quiet, almost like a whisper. You watched his eyes growing subtly wide before you drifted away from them.

Your heart skipped a beat, your cheeks heating up and your hands trembling with the unexpected confession. “I’ve missed you too, Hee.” You admitted looking at the floor, unable to keep looking at the eyes that showed you too much affection right now.

The desire once never forgotten grew stronger inside Heeseung’s chest, he needed you more than anything. His hand reached out for yours, the light brush of your skins sending chills through your spine and taking your breath away.

“Can we talk?” He asked softly, relief running on his body when you held his hand back.

“Yeah, we can,” you nodded, now looking up, not containing your smile as soon as you met his face all lightened up.

“Okay,” he left out a little chuckle, too happy for his own good. “But not here.”

Heeseung and you walked out of the building together, his hands’ grip tight on yours as you simply followed his lead. Your brain was spinning inside your head with the amount of thoughts going on.

You didn’t know what to expect the conversation to be, let alone what he would do with you – or what you would do with him. The anticipation was eating you alive, and you thanked God when he stopped in the private area of the campus’ parking lot, guiding you to stand in front of him while he leaned his back on the wall.

“I was not joking when I said I’ve missed you,” he started, now holding both of your hands. You took a step closer, so you could show that you weren’t lying either. “I have to ask, though. Did I–”

You interrupted before he could even start the question, because from the little you knew about Heeseung, he was going to blame himself.

“I’m sorry for my reaction that night. I– I think I was a bit overwhelmed,” you explained, focusing the drawings on his shirt to avert his eyes. “I really enjoyed kissing you, God, you have no idea,” you said with a soft laugh. “But I freaked out,” you gulped. “I freaked out because I’ve never–” Your cheeks were burning like fire due to your embarrassment, your words stuck on your throat. Heeseung gently squeezed your hands in a reassuring way, leaning a bit forward to search for your eyes. You finally looked up at him.

“I’ve– I’ve never gone further kissing someone,” your voice came out as an unsteady, low whisper, while you quickly avoided Heeseung’s gaze again.

But he made sure you would be looking right at his eyes when he said his next words, tilting your chin up with his finger.

“I’m sorry if I put any pressure on you, angel,” and he was so, so tender to you.

His hand left yours to caress your face with a softness that almost made you melt, automatically leaning into the touch. The new nickname sent a flutter through your stomach.

“No,” you hurried to say, shaking your head. “You didn’t. It’s just… Me. Me being an insecure mess, I guess,” you laughed awkwardly.

“Hey, you’re not a mess,” he now held your face between his large hands, forcing you to maintain eye contact. “I loved kissing you, baby. Would love to do more than that,” he smirked, not only showing his desire, but also his understanding. His words and his actions worked in a perfect sync to make your body instantly react, the pulsing sensation between your legs showing how much you were affected by him. “But I would never force you to do anything.” He released your face, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before his hands rested on your waist in a comforting manner. “Would it help if we talked through your insecurities?”

Heeseung was an angel, you realized. A perfect blend of a compassionate angel and a devil who fed your deepest fantasies.

You blinked twice to process his offer, not once in your life imagining you would meet someone willing to hear you so openly.

“Are you sure?” You asked, hesitantly placing your hands on his shoulders.

His lips curved into a mischievous, shameless smirk. The so known cocky, flirty aura making its appearance just to falter right away, as if he remembered it wasn’t the moment to act like that. You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side when he vacillated to speak.

“Now you have to say exactly what you’re thinking.” You said firmly.

“I don’t think I sho–”

“Lee Heeseung,” your voice was serious and he sighed defeated.

“Okay, okay,” he locked his eyes on yours, a hint of playfulness and craving mixed, causing your heartbeat to increase. “Yes, I’m sure I wanna hear what you’re insecure about, Y/N,” he leaned in closer, just to murmur. “I have to know what I’ll be fucking out of you.”

Your eyes grew wide with his sincerity. Yes, you did ask, but fuck, how does one say something so casually? Your whole face was burning with fluster, your flabbergasted expression was as clear as crystal water, your brain stopped working properly and you had no fucking idea of what to say or do.

“I’m sorr–”

But for some reason, shutting Heeseung up with a kiss sounded right.

Your lips shocked against his with a passion you never felt before. Heeseung’s words, the way he touched you, how his body reacted at the simple act of kissing you and having your hands discovering places on his body – everything made you feel secure and desired, the right mix to make it work on you.

Heeseung made his way through your shell, placing himself right before your insecurities and little by little, without doing much, he was helping you get over them.

Heeseung shamelessly moaned against your mouth when you bit his bottom lip, sucking it before coming back with your tongue hungrily searching for his, your heavy breaths mingling while you both devoured the kiss with vigor.

You parted away to speak, your voice sounding low and too sensual for Heeseung’s health. “I hope you’re loyal to your words, Heeseung.”

He took in your now darkened, full of lust, eyes and your swollen, glistened lips due to the urgent kiss you just shared. The view alone made him go insane.

“Oh, I am,” he murmured, voice deep and husky, his cocky grin making him look even hotter. He gripped your waist tightly and maneuvered your both so he could press you against the wall, placing his lips on your ear to spread a few kisses before saying, “I’m a man of my word, Y/N. And I’m gonna make sure you never doubt yourself ever again.”

You let out a small gasp and then a little whine, your lips parting and your eyes hooded as you relaxed your body, ignoring your mind screaming at you to run away, replacing the anxiety with the craving you cherished for God’s know how long.

“I want to hear every single thought that is holding you back, and then, I’m gonna make you forget about all of them,” Heeseung’s breath was hot against your skin, just like his lips, biting, sucking, kissing every area he had at his disposal.

“Is that a promise?” You decided to play with him on his game, knowing you had no chance against the player anyway. Nonetheless, the foreign feeling growing inside you made words come out of your mouth without you really thinking about them, and it was so fucking good.

“Yes, angel. It is a promise,” Heeseung halted his intense diving into your neck to look deep into your eyes. “But I can’t take your virginity here, in a public parking lot.”

Normally you would fumble into a chain of embarrassment and nervousness with your intimacy being said that openly. However, Heeseung managed to word it in a totally different way. His voice was low, sultry, filled with a raw desire that made you realize he still wanted you, even after you admitted inexperience. Heeseung ignited an intense fire in you.

And then you remembered. You lived in a dorm. “Don’t get me wrong,” your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling it back a little. “But I can’t take you to mine.”

His forehead rested on yours while he chuckled, a bit disappointed. But not on you. “Yeah… I can’t take you to mine, as well. Not today, though.”

“So…” You blinked innocently, not knowing exactly what to say or do.

“We’re not finished yet, angel.”

Unfortunately for you, you realized that what made you so confident and down to go all the way with Heeseung was the fact he was with you, his smooth foreplay skillfully easing your body to relax and enjoy instead of overthinking.

His kisses helped you to forget your concerns and his hands guided you in a way you didn’t have to worry about what to do, not to mention the fact that he was willing to have sex with you even after you shared your insecurities with him.

When you two realized that it wasn’t going to happen that day, the heat went down and you both decided to sit in Heeseung's car to share some more kisses while chatting.

Heeseung always reassuring you through his caring – and hot – touches, listening to every word of yours with compassion dripping out of his eyes, understanding and explaining openly to you about what you were curious about.

You didn’t really open up about everything as you usually do with a friend like Sunoo, partly because you believed it would work as a huge turn off and Heeseung would leave you. But also because you recognized that a lot of your thoughts were beyond your control, like the shape or size of your breasts and other similar things.

Heeseung made sure you understood that besides anything, he would find you sexy no matter what, which made you blush and hide your face on his chest while he laughed at your reaction, but it also made you believe his words and feel more confident about sex.

Nevertheless, through a whole week, a bunch of “do you wanna come over?” texts were dismissed with a lame excuse from you. As said before, his kisses made you ease your mind, and answering such an important question like that without having his mouth working on yours to make you forget about your messy mind, was damn difficult.

What you didn’t know is that Heeseung wasn’t actually planning to have sex with you the times he invited you. He literally just wanted to hang out. Of course he aimed to kiss you eventually, however his main objective was to make you comfortable with him being around, touching you in places you never got to be touched before, making sure you knew how much he craved your body, how much he wanted you, and that you were safe.

It was a busy week, afterall, full of heavy practices because the final game was getting closer and your presence on the bleachers was one thing that didn’t stop happening this time.

You avoided being alone with Heeseung as much as you could, but your lips always missed him, so you had to make the tremendous effort of watching him in every practice.

“He’s so good,” Julie whispered close to your ear, startling you.

“Who?” You asked confused.

“Your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you rushed to reply with your cheeks already gaining some color.

“Cut that off, he’s head over heels for you, girl,” Yunjin pointed out on your other side. “It’s almost annoying.”

“Yeah, and you always have this weird look in your eyes whenever you see him,” Julie nudged you with her shoulder. “Like you’re always wanting him so bad,” she said with a forced sensual voice. “I bet the sex is amazing.”

“I don’t think you should be talking about Y/N’s sexual lif–” Sunoo tried to interrupt the subject, noticing your discomfort for being smashed between two – sometimes – very indecent girls.

“No, but like. She never talks about it. I’m so curious,” Julie whined. “They say the quiet ones are the worst.”

The whistle indicating the last quarter of the practice was over and you jumped out of your seat, running down the stairs to meet Heeseung, not only to be with him but mostly to avoid Julie and Yunjin's inconvenient questions.

You didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell them about anything sex related, since they both were very sexually active and their actions seemed a bit off whenever you became the topic of the conversation.

“What’s with the hurry, baby?” Heeseung smiled big while hugging you when you jumped on his arms, caring little to nothing about his sweat sticking to your skin.

“Missed you,” you said muffled against his neck, your heart beating fast while you felt him moving you to walk on your back, still clinging onto him.

He stopped walking at some point and you let go of him.

“I gotta take a shower. I’m getting you all dirty, angel,” your cheeks burned with how you interpreted his words, widened eyes as you looked at him. Heeseung noticed it. “Hey, you dirty minded girl, I’m talking about my sweat on you,” he sneaked his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him to walk with you towards the locker room.

“I don’t think your explanation makes it less worse.”

He laughed out loud, throwing his head back with your audacious phrase, and typically you would find it endearing how he looked so handsome smiling big. This time you paid more attention to his neck and how his Adam’s apple seemed more attractive than ever. His sweat dripping out of his honeyed skin was doing no good to you as well, messing with your head, filling it with horny thoughts.

When you arrived, you patiently waited for Heeseung outside the locker room, greeting a few team’s members you’ve come to know, since it’s become a routine for you to be around.

You were playing on your phone when he left the room, glancing at you with a pretty smile and offering you his hand.

You two walked your way to the parking lot, a common everyday thing you started doing after the days he had practice. Oftenly you would be in his car for a few minutes, sharing caresses and sweet talks, before he drove you to your dorm.

“Will you watch me tomorrow?” He asked with sparkly, expectant eyes, swinging your arms.

“Of course I will, Captain,” you looked at his side profile. “Don’t forget, I’m the team’s lucky charm,” you winked playfully at him, remembering one of your firsts dialogues alone you shared.

“Yeah,” he stopped walking to pull you closer by the waist, his voice softened. “And I don’t know what to do without you,” his eyes glazed on yours for a while, dripping affection.

It took just a second for his lips to find its home on yours, kissing you slow and sweet, enjoying every bit of your addicting taste.

He parted with a little smack sound, pecking your lips a few times. Your breath hitched with his tender touch. He held your hand again so you could keep walking.

“The coach was afraid of me dating you, he said you could be a distraction to me and bla-bla-bla,” he huffed a laugh, you, on the other hand, froze. Dating? “Little did he know you’re the main reason I have a good performance. I need to impress my girl.”

You had a very shocking expression on your face when Heeseung looked at you to see why you went quietly suddenly. You stopped on your tracks and turned to him, lips parted as you blinked without saying a thing.

“What?” Heeseung cocked his head, his bambi, confused eyes shined, trying to read you.

“We’re dating?”

“Oh,” he scratched the back of his head nervously. “I never asked yo–”

“You never asked me–” You both said at the same time and stopped, also at the same time.

Heeseung cleared his throat and with a deep breath he rested his eyes on yours, automatically smiling.

“Well, if you’re okay with it, I’d love to call what we have dating.” He said adorably with his hand squeezing yours, “I just assumed we were on the same page, but I’m okay if you don’t want to define it or wanna talk about it more. I’m always all ears for you, Y/N.” He leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I mean, I just wanna be with you, and if you are fine with me calling you my girlfriend, then I’d be more than happy to call you that.”

All his words sounded like babbling to you, because that moment, in the middle of the parking lot, you heart skipped a beat as you realized you were so fucking in love with Lee Heeseung.

You were sure you had heart eyes while staring at his anticipating expression, and you couldn’t care less. You pushed yourself forward so you could kiss him passionately, his hands coming to hold you by your jawline, moving so slowly, so lovingly, so sincerely.

It was a different kiss, it was a love kiss, a confessional kiss, a kiss you only were able to have because of its genuine intentions.

“I’d love to call you my boyfriend, Hee,” you whispered against his mouth, smiling brightly as he shared the same expression, the same emotion.

As intense as a final game normally is, you couldn’t help but tap your feet on the ground, to the point of you standing up to pace back and forth. The rival university was ten points ahead in the fourth quarter and the minutes were ticking down.

You could see Heeseung's tensed body from afar, the seat you had helping nothing with the view of the game – you took advantage of being the captain's girlfriend to ask to watch the game from up close. But it was your worst decision so far, because you barely saw anything.

The tension was palpable in the air, your breath caught in your throat at every pass. Your university team managed to close the gap at some point, and when you looked at the clock, the 10 seconds countdown was shining.

Your heart dropped when you saw Heeseung’s bold move of stealing the ball from one of the opposing team member, the crowd yelling as he sprinted down the court, for a fraction of seconds you catched his glance at you, before he focused fully in dribbling whoever entered his way, and then he launched himself into the air, his perfect form aiming directly for the three point line.

Everything became slow motion as you watched the ball going straight through the hoop, the whole gym exploding with loud cheers as you yourself jumped and hugged whoever were near you with a big smile.

The whole team crowded Heeseung to celebrate, everyone of them shining big smiles but you paid attention to only one. And the said one was searching for you in the sidelines. He broke free from them to jog to you, who also was running in his direction. You jumped on his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and he swirled you while screaming excitedly. “We did it!”

“You did it, Hee. I knew you could do it.” You answered as happily as him, laughing with joy and tightening the hug.

Heeseung softly landed you on the ground, his eyes gleaming with his victory. He cupped your face with his large hands, pulling you into an eagerly sweet kiss, no trophy topping the feeling of having you like that.

The cheers grew louder as everyone watched the romantic scene, however nothing seemed real around you two, lost in the bubble you’ve created. “I did it for you, angel,” he murmured against your lips, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I told you before. I have to impress my girl,” and then he kissed you again, your smiles you shared mingling between breaths and small pecks, before he hugged you tightly one more time.

The celebration went for a while. From afar, you observed Heeseung being surrounded by his friends and teammates, getting praised for his skills and how well he did that match.

You watched from afar how bright and full of joy Heeseung was, his whole face glowing, surrounded by his friends and teammates, celebrating the win, getting showered with praise by everyone. There was a faint blush on his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but remember all the times he got flustered by your compliments, his shy smile in contrast with his darkened eyes, as if your words woke something inside him. You made a mental note to take a little advantage of that later on.

“The guys left the house for me tonight,” Heeseung murmured as he finally approached you, already outside the building, placing his hands on your waist while yours naturally settled on his shoulders. His voice dropped to a tone only you knew the meaning of.

Instantly, your heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah?” Your voice came out low.

You took in every detail of his beautiful face, his demeanor softened since a big part of the adrenaline had left his body by now. Despite that, his eyes still sparkled with adoration and a hint of desire. Heeseung licked his lips, sucking his lower one while shifting his gaze between your mouth and your adorable, innocent, yet lustful eyes.

“Yeah,” he mildly nodded, leaning in closer, but he unfortunately got interrupted by a voice you recognized immediately. Your eyes grew wide.

“Look at you two!” Julie squealed with a smile, clapping excitedly. “You did amazing, Heeseung.” She complimented your boyfriend giving two thumbs up, and you tried to hide your embarrassment by tilting your head towards Heeseung’s chest, who hugged you sideways.

Yunjin, who was with Julie, nodded in agreement, also smiling. “Yeah, that last point was incredible,” she added, giving your shoulder a teasing nudge to whisper closer to you. “I bet you’re dying to get out of here, huh?”

“Thank you,” Heeseung said with a smile, while you gave an awkward grin in response to Yunjin.

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Julie said with a wink. “Looks like someone’s eager for some private time.” With a final ‘goodbye’ and ‘good luck,’ Julie and Yunjin left, leaving you with an astonished, shy expression, and Heeseung with a contained mischievous grin.

“I’m sorry about them,” you whispered, watching them go before searching for Heeseung’s eyes just to see them already glancing playfully at you.

“Are they lying, though?” Heeseung asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

You smacked his chest, unable to give a proper response as you buried your face on his neck, muffling a quiet “Stop,” while he hugged you and let it out a precious laugh.

“But… Can I take you to my place today?” His question sounded a bit hesitant, still sweet as honey, while his fingers gently caressed your back. “We don’t have to do anything, I just wanna be with you,” he added with kind eyes after you released yourself from his embrace to face him.

You nodded, “You can,” and offered him a small, genuine smile, making him lose control with your beauty and cuteness and kiss you before heading to his car with you.

The drive was calm, nonetheless your body was pretty tense on the car seat. Your brain was spinning with that night’s outcome. While you had an intense desire to finally have Heeseung the way you dreamed of, you couldn’t help but feel anxious about it too.

You craved his body, his touches, his lips, overall, him. And he had demonstrated to be a good guy so far. Heeseung respected your boundaries, always making sure you felt comfortable even with the minimal invasive touches, like when he tried to touch under your skirt one day and you startled in response.

He murmured a billion “I’m sorry’s” after the episode, and that alone had your heart fluttering in passion, allowing him to slide his bold touches wherever he wanted to, but never further enough to have you fully.

You gulped down your nervousness, looking at Heeseung’s side profile illuminated by the night lights – his honeyed skin was glowing, his black hair messy with sweat, some strands of hair sticking on his exposed forehead, his perfect nose and kissable lips, everything made you dive into your dirtiest thoughts.

You only noticed you arrived at his house when he broke the silence by announcing it, opening the door for you and grabbing your hands instantly as he led you inside the house all the way to his room.

“Imma take a quick shower, okay?” You nodded. “Make yourself comfortable. Don’t be shy.” He pecked your lips before heading to his bathroom.

You sat on the edge of his bed, analyzing how simple his room seemed to be – just the right amount of things he needed to have, like a wardrobe, a big bed and his gamer computer setup. Being in one’s room, for you, always felt like an act of intimacy itself.

You were in the same place he changed clothes, he listened to his favorite music, he played his favorite games, he studied… And the same place he touched himself, he had sex with other persons, he had wet dreams…

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, fidgeting your fingers even faster. Your panties got slightly dampened and your body overheated just by thinking of how close you were to Heeseung right now, although you didn’t even had him in your sight.

The sound of the shower turning off indicating he was done showering had your stomach fluttering because he was about to come out of the bathroom, and not a single soul in the earth had you prepared to face his upper body in full display to you – his toned chest, a bit red because of the hot water, being accentuated by a subtle abs, his arms muscles contracting as he dried off his hair.

Heeseung’s boxers peeked through the hem of his sweatshorts, and you swore to God you saw a single droplet of water running all the way down in his beautiful, hot, tanned skin, stopping on his V-line.

“Are you hungry?” Heeseung’s voice broke you out of your trance, finally making you stare at his face instead of his body. He didn’t deny that your voracious eyes eating him alive sent signals directly to his dick, making it twitch inside his clothes. He watched you blink two, three, four times with an unreadable expression, making him frown. “Y/N?”

“Y–yeah?” You snapped out of your imagination of kissing, licking, sucking every part of his body, feeling his skin through your lips. Your mouth watered, but not because of hunger for food.

“Do you wanna order a delivery or something?” Heeseung cocked his head, shamelessly checking you out as well. If you had the right to devour him with your intense gaze, he had it too, undressing you with his eyes while biting his bottom lip.

Your skirt was placed gently on your thighs, your tight crop top evidenced your breast and a little part of your belly was being shown, all too tempting to him, eager to see more of your body.

You swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on anything but your desire of having Heeseung fucking you, failling disastrously. “Um, sure. Sounds good,” you managed to say, your voice clearly trembling as your breath got stuck in your airways.

You had to contain a whimper when Heeseung took a step closer, his towel now hanging in his shoulders as he towered you, lifting your head with two fingers holding your chin.

“What do you wanna eat, angel?” He questioned, and he was definitely not talking about food anymore at this point.

You felt the heat increase in your stomach, your body shivering with his light, warm touch, acting like it was in withdrawal of whatever he could give you. And you wished so hard for him to offer you everything.

“I– I don’t know,” you murmured, blinking slowly, parted lips letting out your hitched breath. “What’s your suggestion?” You forced yourself to take a glance at his look, gasping slightly with how he had shifted to an almost breathtaking lascivious one, slightly hooded, serious and attractive just the right amount to make you squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

“I’m afraid my suggestion does not involve food, my love.” Heeseung’s voice dropped a few tones as he bended forward to lean closer, inches away from you, his warm air brushing against your face, his gaze savoring every single one of your reactions.

“What–” You bit your lip. “What does it involve, then?” You asked under breath, a burn sensation taking place on your cheeks as Heeseung’s grin grew. Your pulse increased in the silent, yet full of unspoken desires, room.

“Well,” he murmured, eyes almost closing as he got closer and closer, lips now touching lightly yours, as he said “I might have to show you. Would you let me?”

Your answer came through actions, your hands quickly took place on his neck and pulled him down to you, tossing the towel to the floor while your mouth chased for his’, desperate for a kiss. It took Heeseung just seconds to react to your intensity, kindly pushing you to lay down on the bed as you tried to keep your lips occupied while moving upwards in a comfortable position; Heeseung crawling on the mattress, never daring to break out the touch.

His fingers dug into your waist while his other arm supported his weight, grinding slowly against your body, pressing his hardened cock on your clothed cunt in order to get any friction he could. A moan escaped your lips, muffled by the kiss, as the heat between your bodies intensified, the thought of causing that reaction in Heeseung making you feel even hotter, more impatient, more desperate for anything he was giving you.

His mouth was working wonders – hot, skilled, passionate as he sucked your tongue, his little groans getting lost in the middle of the kiss. At the same time your fingers brushed his naked chest, his hands infiltrated under your shirt, and your body instantly reacted to the feel of his warm and smooth skin on yours.

Though Heeseung had waited for what felt like ages to have you underneath him like that, he was aware of your insecurities and the fact that it was your first time. Despite how your body responded to his touch, he knew that taking it slow was the right choice, so he made sure you felt safe and cherished as he savored every second.

Heeseung unhurried his movements, gently parting the kiss to catch his breath and taking the opportunity to enjoy the view – your parted, glistened and swollen-kissed lips, your hooded eyes, hiding your lust behind them, but showing him adoration. He smiled, placing a sweet, tender kiss on your jawline, downing to your neck and collarbone, getting drunk on your scent with his lips trailing kind and lascivious touches on your skin.

You grabbed his hair with your hands, pulling Heeseung even closer to your body – as if it was possible – in a way of distracting the anxiety building up on your core. But then you pushed him away, and he showed you a confused gaze.

You smiled shyly and moved your hands so you could undress yourself from your shirt and toss it onto the floor, revealing part of your gorgeous body to his eyes, your breasts placed in your black bra attracting his attention.

“You’re beautiful,” Heeseung whispered, filled with sincerity and care, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, the most cherished treasure he ever had, with the perfect mix of desire, eyes dripping the need of having more of you.

His touches were light as he traced his fingers from your waist all the way to your clothed boobs, his eyes never leaving yours, taking in every little reaction, every little sound. He paused to ask tenderly.

“Can I take these off?” And when you nodded and helped him to remove your bra, he smiled, not holding back his delighted sigh at the sight of your pretty and hardened nipples.

You felt exposed and your cheeks flushed with a dark ton of red, you had nowhere to hide so you just let Heeseung adore you, until his mouth placed kisses near your breasts, giving you time to assimilate that new experience.

You couldn’t hold back an audible gasp when his lips brushed your sensitive bud, his hot tongue swirling it to suck right after, not too intense, not too light, just the right amount, as if he knew exactly what to do with your body to make you go insane.

“Hee–” you moaned his name when he drifted away to give the proper attention to your other boob while his hand massaged the already a bit swollen one.

The sound of your voice whining Heeseung’s name sent a wave of electricity all over his body, directly to his neglected dick. While he kept going down with his mouth through your belly until he reached the hem of your skirt, he humped slightly on whatever could give him some friction on his sensitive bulge.

He halted his movements when he achieved your inner thighs to look at you with reassuring eyes and a soft smile.

“Tell me to stop if you want me to,” his lips kissed the area and you tensened your legs, not used to being touched in there. However, if it felt too good and in no world you wanted Heeseung to stop.

“I trust you, Hee.”

And Heeseung couldn’t ask for a better way of you saying what he needed to hear. He kept placing hot kisses on your thighs and you bent your knee, the position giving him the full view of your ruined panties, a pool of arousal making it stick to your cunt, the drawing of your folds making its personal show right in front of his eyes.

Heeseung’s mouth watered. He remembered every time he imagined being buried between your legs and, God, he didn’t know if he would be able to hold himself down on this one.

“Would you be okay if I–” He gulped, searching for your eyes, which were already glancing at his drunk-looking figure with curiosity. You never saw that expression on Heeseung’s face, and for some reason it made your clit pulse, walls clenching around nothing. “If I eat you out? You can say no if you don’t feel comfortable doing it on your first time, but I would appreciat–”

“I meant it when I said I trust you.”

You cut off his ramble for two reasons: one, because you weren’t prepared to hear his speech that would pretty much make you feel even more embarrassed; two, you were desperate for some relieve, your body literally aching in desire to feel your release, and if his hot mouth and tongue felt that good on your skin, you shivered just by the thought of having them on your sensitive area.

“Thank you,” Heeseung sounded really relieved that you accepted his request. “I’ll remove your skirt, is that okay?” He asked softly and you nodded, hands gripping on the sheets without knowing much more what to do.

Heeseung tossed your clothing piece on the floor, and when he was about to prepare himself to dive into your pussy, you grabbed his hair. He instantly stopped what he was doing, his heart did a flip with the thought of you giving up on your words, although he would obey whatever your decision was.

But when he looked at you, he noticed your shy smile. “Can you remove your shorts too?”

He let out a little chuckle, “Of course,” and stood up to do what you asked so adorably for him to do.

You enjoyed the view of his dick hard inside his, now, tightened boxers. You wondered if he would fit in you, but you didn’t have time to think much of it as he went back to his position, gaze shifting between your clothed cunt and your anxious eyes.

“Are you okay, princess? Remember, you can always ask me to stop.”

“Yes, Hee. I’m okay,” your voice came out between hitched breaths. “Please, do something, it’s hurting,” you pleaded with a little whine, and that was the green sign for Heeseung to sigh and groan by the sight of you, needy of his mouth on your pussy.

He placed a delicate kiss right on your clothed clit, simply for you to feel comfortable with your area being touched for the first time. Heeseung heard your little moan before losing himself in his mind, distributing hot touches with his lips all over the area.

He then removed your last piece of cloth, the view of your pussy in full display made him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so, his cock throbbing inside his boxers.

You had your eyes closed, trying to ignore the fact you were very exposed, to focus on the amazing feeling of Heeseung’s hot breath directly where you needed him the most. You moaned when his tongue licked experimentally your folds.

Heeseung slipped his hands under your legs to hold you in a position he gained a better support and kept you open for him as he worked on your cunt.

Your sweet taste melted on his mouth as he ate you out willingly, the tip of his nose brushing on your sensitive clit as he skillfully moved his head to stimulate you in as many areas as he could – his tongue teasing to enter in your entrance, the foreign feeling making you squirm in a bit of a discomfort that quickly waved out of your body because of how good your clit being stimulated was making you feel.

It was a mix of sensations you never really felt; you had touched yourself before, but nothing compares to Heeseung’s amazing mouth and tongue licking, sucking and making out with your pussy. You could feel the knot forming on your stomach as you tensed your body.

“Heeseung,” you moaned a bit loud. “I think I’m close–”

Heeseung broke out of the trance he got himself into to listen to you, afterall he wanted to take care of you.

“I want you to cum on my mouth, is that okay princess?” He asked between little pecks and licks on your folds and clit. You nodded, not knowing exactly if he was seeing you do so.

“Could you look at me, angel?” He questioned, his voice sounding too sweet to the lustful view he was offering you. Hair stuck on his forehead, nose and chin glistened with your arousal. “There you go,” he smirked before diving again into your pussy, his eyes now never leaving your face, even when you rolled your eyes and threw your head back, trying hard to keep with his request.

Your orgasm hit almost instantly, the mix of his devilish looks and how he ate you so passionately worked together for you to achieve your release in his mouth, Heeseung drinking not only your juices, but all of your moans and whines.

He left the area after pecking two, three, four times, and then trailed kisses through your body until he reached the corner of your mouth, watching you breathing heavily with a small smile adorning your lips.

Heeseung decided not to kiss you right away, not only giving you time to recompose but also avoiding you to feel the taste of yourself in his tongue. He loved you for a while, gently brushing his lips on your skin, kissing once and a while, until he felt your hands caressing his hair, tenderly.

“Are you alright?” Heeseung questioned after a while, searching for your eyes.

“Mhm,” you nodded lazily. However, you knew it wasn’t the end, and mostly, you wanted more.

“Do you want to stop?” He caressed your face, moving away some strands of your hair. You shook your head, mischievously smiling. You could feel his still clothed dick literally twitching on your leg, and although your last orgasm was intense and you got a bit tired, you needed to have him even closer to you.

“You are hard as hell, Hee,” you giggled, catching his eyes darkening again. “And I need to feel you inside of me,” you looked at his lips before pulling him down to kiss you properly.

As earlier, the urgency of the touch grew faster and faster, and Heeseung had to remind himself once more that he needed to go slow.

He parted the kiss just to ask with a serious voice “Are you sure about this?”

“More than anything in my life, Hee. I want you,” you gently caressed his cheek, smiling when he pecked your lips before getting on his feet to finally remove his last clothing piece, revealing his whole body to you.

You swallowed when his dick jumped out of his boxers, throbbing, covered in precum, all because of you. You whined with the view, propping yourself up on your elbows when he got closer to your face since he had to get a condom in his nightstand. Your hand automatically rushed to grab his length, peeking up at his face at the right time to catch his face contorted in shock and then, pleasure.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, enjoying the warmth of your skin on his neglected, sensitive cock. It was clear you didn’t know exactly what to do, but the movement of going up and down was enough to make Heeseung’s knees weak. He was weak for you, afterall.

Heeseung let you try out whatever crossed your mind and enjoy yourself for a bit, because it meant you were comfortable enough with him to do so, and your endeared and erotic gaze hypnotized him too strongly for him to stop you.

He made sure to moan your name, watching your body reacting to it, trying his best to make you get wet again and make things easier later. He wasn’t faking it, though. Your hands really were doing wonders on his shaft – he watched you positioning yourself to sit on your knees, face with a faint focused frown as you cupped his tip, moving your hand in circles.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, the sensitive area of his dick getting the attention he needed was sending him out of orbit, and you were using just your hands.

“You– You have to stop,” he said as he gently held your wrist, halting your movements. His closed eyes prevented him from noticing your guilty expression, until he heard your voice.

“Sorry,” you murmured quietly, thinking you have done something wrong.

“No, baby. It’s not– I almost came,” he admitted. You didn’t know simple words could make your body heat that fast, your stomach instantly did a flip with his sincere confession.

Heeseung’s lips met yours right away, his body leaning forward so you both could go back to the previous position.

He placed himself in between your open legs, his gaze softening as he watched your anxious face. “I’m going to prepare you,” he explained with a low voice, kissing your neck as his hands went down to find your folds, touching you to collect your arousal and use it to lubricate his finger, “Don’t forget, your word is what guides me.”

Your body fully tensed when he pressed his digit near your entrance, “Relax, my love,” he murmured and kissed your cheek and then your lips. Your heart fluttered with the pet name. “I’ve got you, okay?”

You nodded, closing your eyes tightly, afraid of the pain you were so sure you would feel, however, Heeseung’s light touches on your sensitive area and the kisses he spread over your face got you distracted, almost making you miss when he slid a finger inside you. Your breath got stuck on your throat and he didn’t move, waiting for your body to adjust to the new intruder.

“I’ve never– I’ve never ever put anything inside me before, so it’s all new,” you admitted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief for verbalizing your discomfort.

“Yeah? You’re doing great, angel.” Heeseung encouraged, gently pulling his finger out while kissing you. You squirmed, a bit uncomfortable. “Such a good girl for me, mhm?”

His wording caused you to clench involuntarily around his finger, a reaction that didn’t went unnoticed by Heeseung. He kept kindly pumping his single finger inside you, teasing to add one more as you whined against his mouth, while he whispered sweet words of encouragement.

“You feel so amazing,” Heeseung said, and something popped into his mind. He decided to test the waters with a dirtier talk, his hot breath tickling your ear. “I can’t wait to feel you around me, so tight and wet,” he kissed your earlobe, his husky voice and words making you whole body shiver, “I promise, Y/N, I’ll make you feel so good,” his teeth nibbled your sensitive spot on your neck and you slightly arched your back, moaning, not even noticing when his second finger entered you.

You were panting a bit, messily whining and squirming, your fingers threaded through his hair, gripping it firmly, forcing him into your neck.

“You’re so tight, I don’t think I’ll last long when I get inside you,” Heeseung sounded muffled, loving the way you squeezed even more around his digits. “Can you feel how my fingers stretch you so well, baby?” His question sounded rhetorical to you, because it was obvious you felt the way he stretched you so amazingly good, your toes curling just by that.

“Hee, please–” You pleaded not quite sure what you were asking for, but your eyes locked onto his with a desperate need. His fingers worked so perfectly inside you, making you wonder how you could be so close to tearing, yearning for his dick, which you never ever had before.

Heeseung grinned, eyes dripping with desire and fondness, wandering your whole body as he removed his digits from you.

“My baby seems a bit desperate, doesn't she?” He teased, chuckling. You watched as he coated his dick with a condom, jerking it off with the precum he collected before to prepare himself for you, never breaking eye contact. He leaned closer. “Don’t worry, I’m just as desperate as you are, my love,” and with that he positioned his tip in your entrance.

You tensed again, but Heeseung's sharp instincts caught the subtle change in your reaction. To help you relax, he covered one of your nipples with his mouth, warm lips sucking the sensitive area, making you moan. His body pressed into yours distracting you from the pain as well.

��Ah–” you gasped, frowning with a flicker of discomfort as he slid his dick inside you; your hands grabbed his shoulders, squeezing with a certain strength as you tried to get over the burning feeling in your cunt.

Heeseung was on the verge of insanity, his sensitive cock aching with your walls tightening around it, so eager for some more friction. He had to dig self control from the deepest place of his mind in order to keep going.

“Shh. I’ve got you, my love,” he kissed your wrist, and then your shoulder, and then your neck, and then your cheeks, and finally your lips, while slowly getting himself fully inside of you, moaning as he did so. “You drive me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, loving how messy you were kissing him, your expression changing little by little from a discomfortable to a pleasant one.

Heeseung remained still for a moment, making out with you while waiting for your body to adjust to his dick. You gently waved your hips forward with a little groan at some point, a silent plea to get more of what he was offering you, and he got the sign immediately.

With a tender smile and after pressing his lips in yours once more, Heeseung began to move, thrusting into you with a necessary slowness at first, that became unneeded the second you started to feel only the delight of being full.

His tip rubbed a certain spot in you that made you flutter your eyes shut while rolling them, moaning loud.

“You liked that, angel?” He asked, desperate to pound harder and faster onto you, still controlling himself. “Tell me, please,” he looked at your lips parted, his name being the only thing coming out of them.

“Y–yes, Hee. It’s so fucking good– Ah,” you threw your head back in the pillow, his response to your compliment making him thrust deeper. “You feel so good, fuck.”

Needless to say that your praise to Heeseung’s work was enough for him to almost fully lose his inner battle of going easier with you. His head rested beside yours and while his movements grew faster, your voice got louder and louder; your fingernails sinking into the skin of his back, his moan close to your ear making you see stars with the overwhelming feeling.

“I’m close,” you whispered, feeling the known knot on your stomach growing stronger as Heeseung kept pounding into your g-spot. You opened your eyes to lock eyes with him, who already had positioned himself to do the same – both of you wanting to see each other reaching their respective climax.

“Come for me, princess,” he demanded with a groan. “Show me how good I’m making you feel.”

The view of Heeseung’s forehead damped in sweat with strand of hairs sticking to it, his parted lips every so often being bit by his teeth while letting out the prettiest sounds and his heavy breaths, his eyes showing your affection, desire, urgency in achieving his own release, and his dirty words, all of it blended together, worked perfectly for you to achieve your orgasm.

A strong wave of desperation and pleasure ran over your body and took you milliseconds to cum all over Heeseung’s dick with a loud moan, your pussy tightening harder around his cock while he drove you through your high at the same time he chased for his own.

“Fuck,” Heeseung moaned, keeping thrusting faster and faster, a frown of concentration adorning his forehead and then he saw you, pretty face contorted in pleasure, your mouth letting out the hottest moans of his name. You felt his cum filling up the condom inside you the same time he moaned your name, making you hiss while he pumped into you a bit more. Eventually he removed himself from you, flopping into your body, tired.

You thought you just had hit cloud nine with the amount of joy and excitement running inside you. A sense of realization making you smile brightly. You enjoyed the sound of your respirations working its best to recompose itself and Heeseung’s heartbeats against your chest.

“I have to say,” your voice came out a bit husky as you lovingly caressed Heeseung’s sweaty back. “Now I do accept the food.”

You heard Heeseung chuckle on your neck, before he kissed there and then your lips. “Yeah, me too.”

The morning after your first night together with Heeseung was filled with doubts.

After the sex, you both got cleaned up and ate the said delivery while watching something on the tv.

Obviously Heeseung didn’t let you go back to your dorm, needing to feel your warm embrace as much as possible. So you two slept together on his big bed, cuddling.

But then you woke up earlier than him, and you took your sweet time to appreciate his serene expression, deep in his sleep – his soft breath, his pretty eyelashes, his slightly parted lips. You sighed, a weird feeling eating away you inside, afraid of being left alone after the last night.

What if he said all of that just to have you one time? What if he did all he did just for that moment to happen? What if he didn’t really mean any of his words? What if he didn’t enjoyed it the way you did?

“What’s with the frown?”

You startled with Heeseung’s groggy voice breaking the silence of the room. “Nothing,” you awkwardly smiled and of course Heeseung didn’t buy it.

“Tell me,” he blinked slowly to focus on your pretty face, snuggling his body into yours. “Tell me what’s going on in this pretty head of yours, my love.”

You gulped, heart racing with his new way of calling you.

Love.

You got lost in your mind for a while before asking “Will you leave me now?” The question came out a bit more stupid than you expected, but at the same time, it was sincere.

Heeseung propped himself up on his elbow to give you a proper look. He removed the hair from your face with a gentle touch, caressing your cheeks with the same amount of care. His voice sounded low. “No,” he shook his head, eyes full of adoration, endearment, and love. “I’ll not leave you. Actually, I’m even more attached to you, my love,” his, oh, so known smirk tugged the corner of his lips. “I’m not going anywhere, unless you want me to.”

You hurried to shake your head, taking in every detail of his pretty features.

“Then I’m staying, and I’ll be taking anything you offer to me,” Heeseung kissed your lips in a different way. Slow, tender, filled with this new emotion – love.

You parted the kiss to look into his sparkly eyes, smiling.

“Then I offer you my everything, Heeseung.”

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